Boy's Night Out 0110.01

Amrahly'nn: The Harpy Tavern

Avast ye oh brave dog who enters the shady doors of The Harpy. From the blood stained wooden floor, to the one-eyed bartender, you know this is not your Umbrella-in-your-Drink sort of place. This is where the scoundrels, and sea dogs meet. Deals are made, murders planned, and ransom notes written. This bar is not for the weak of heart, or slow of sword.

The pale lighting in here is provided by brass lanterns affixed to the walls, and tables and chairs fills the majority of the room, and dark corners. Have a mug of ale, or grog, and plot with your shipmates. Just be sure to always have your guard up or you might end up shanghai'd...

Charlemagne saunters into the pub, humming a little dirge to himself. He spots the crewmates, and struts over, his flowing black hair and cloak rustling as he moves. Grinning at BlackBlood, he says loudly to Crowe, "What kind of a lousy bar stacks the garbage at a prime table instead of the alley, eh, Crowe?"

BlackBlood wonders when the heck these two got so friendly... Oh well, it's probably the darned elf that dragged him on the ship. Not minding the grin he was given, he simply points out "I do hope you heard about what you're supposed to do tonight". How cryptic. Hopefully, the man does know...

Crowe blinks, and just keeps sipping at his elderberry wine. It has been FAR too long since he has had this to drink, instead of that Dramboie swill the Captain fills him with. He is not going to lose the moment of relaxation in a brawl. "I don't know Charlemagne, what sort of Bar does?" he says at last.

Charlemagne pulls up a chair and spins it around, leaning against the back, "I'm aware of the captain's orders, NlackDoor, and I know whats expected of me." He leans over to sniff Crowe's drink, "Whatcha drinking there?"

BlackBlood gets that deadpan look. NlackDoor? That guy really does bother him. "Oh... and would you care to tell me in a few words what these orders were..? I do think it had something to do with me, if I'm not mistaken..." Yes, he loathes these two...

Crowe actually makes a hissing noise as Charle comes close to his wine, and grabbing the mug, and accompanying bottle, he leans back away from the larger man. "Leave me alone..." he says in a low tone, green eyes glaring from behind stray strands of crimson hair.

Charlemagne narrows his eyes at Crowe briefly, his ice blue eyes seeming to flicker an emotion of hurt, from the way he tended to Crowe yesterday, one would think he'd be a little nicer. He turns back towards BlackBlood, "I don't think that discussing things of that nature in a bar with so many wenches would be prudent...but to sum up, I'm to dispatch certain messages, dispatch being the operative word."

BlackBlood frowns lightly. Dispatch messages..? Well, it might be a very very cryptic way to say it, but it just might work. "hmm... I see. Try and enjoy the drinks.. it is an important task coming up" he then drowns the smirk by taking a large gulp out of his glass. The contents look like whisky.

Crowe continues to drink at his dark red wine. He does not sip it with a connoseurs ease, but that of a hurried man. Glass after glass he drinks, carefully watching all those around him from his crew.

Charlemagne gestures to the bar wench, who brings him a tankard of dark ale, "Quite, quite - though, I'm not sure I would prefer that means. I quite enjoy the blood sport, myself. Honor among men...I prefer being stabbed in the front verses in the back..." he peers across his mug at BlackBlood, "Catch my meaning, mate?"

Crowe ;makes a sniffing motion with his nose, being an elf he has extremely sensitive senses of smell and hearing, which can be a curse in this place. As near as Blood and Charle are to him, he can tell exactly how long it has been since their last bath, and who was whoring last night. He wrinkles his nose in disgust, and keeps drinking.

BlackBlood mutters a faint "aye aye" from his glass' rim. He's got his answer, so it's all right in his head. As for who was whoring... it wouldn't be him, no... okay, yes.

Charlemagne takes a long draw on his ale, "Aah... nice and dark... black and unforgiving as the seas." He did bathe this morning... with a WHORE!

Crowe casts a look around the Tavern and makes note of the new faces in here, committing them to memory for a report to the Captain. He listens to all the banter going on in here, without seeming to do so.

Charlemagne grins wide and pulls out his daggers, and jams them into the table top. Looking around, he spies the barkeep stacking mugs, "Ok Blackie... first one to shatter a glass without knocking it over wins. Wager is 5 pieces of gold, you may toss first."

Crowe opens his eyes a bit wide, this could get ugly and dangerous quickly. He remains in his dark corner table, and just watches, and drinks.

BlackBlood gets that deadpan look again. "...Blackie? Who ever allowed you to call me that?" He never even uttered that guy's name.. it might feel something ugly on his tongue if he did. "Sheesh.. anyway, first shot's mine" he reaches into his trenchcoat's folds, pulling out a small knife.Shatter the glass.. not knock it over. He can simply try an aim for the base of it. "Yo, Barkeep, don't move an inch if you don't want some red splotches on the floor" he warns.. then extends his arm back.. and lets it swing outwards, releasing the knife. It goes sailing through the air and... um.. well since the player is nice, he won't decide the outcome.

Charlemagne moves like a cat and snatches up one of his knives, flicking it at your blade in flight. It taps the side of your projectile, sending it sailing into the glass the barkeep is currently stacking, shattering it. Charle's knife heads in a reverse arc, back towards him in a ricchocent. He tilts to the side, lifting his own glass, letting his very blade impact on it, shattering the half full mug. Grinning wide, he states, "Looks like it was a draw, care for a second round?"

BlackBlood throws a glare at Charlie. Well this was simply an horrible way of... Did he trick him? No, he stated no rules. He reaches for a second knife... but withdraws his hand, not turning his glaring green eyes away. "I'd rather it stays as it presently is. You wouldn't want to cause any injuries."

Crowe goes slack jawed at the demostration of Charlemagnes knife throwing, and watches with wide eyes. He is drinking much slower now. When one of the bar whores slips into the booth next to him, he runs her off with a look.

Charlemagne grins at Blackblood, tapping a dagger handle against his palm, "We could step it up a bit - knock a pint off Crowe's head? Daggers blunted, of course." He offers, casting a glance at Crowe.

Crowe slowly turns a look to the two of his shipmate, and his expression makes his opinion on that idea perfectly clear.

"I refuse" is the straight, harsh answer that Mr Blood delivers in a steel-edged voice. "You are out of your mind! I will not participate in such disgusting games. Even if have a low esteem of that brat, I don't wish any harm to him. Besides, if you deflected my knife once, you can do it again.." he narrows his eyes, glare returning. "You play dirty, dangerous games...." Who cares about blunted daggers? It still hurts when it goes into an eye.

Charlemagne chuckles quietly and slips his blades back into his jacket, and tosses a few pieces of silver on the table, "That's for the messs, don't try to steal it." He throws his cloak over his shoulder, giving a last glance at Crowe, "I'm going to find some trouble, see you currs back on ship!" With that, he saunters back out, in the same style he arrived in.

Crowe watches Charle go, and keeps his expression as before. He considers NONE of these men friends. He knows that none of them think of him as nothing more than the Captain's Whore. That suits him just fine.

BlackBlood snorts and turns his narrowed eyes at Crowe. "...and what do you have to say? Wipe this expession off your face or I'll regret not taking up his offer."

Crowe continues to smirk at Mr Blood, and slowly his hand comes up from around his mug of wine. The gesture he makes with his hand at the First Mate is known the world over.

BlackBlood goes around the counter, picking up his knife. Of course the barkeep says nothing.. Then, Mr Blood simply leaves..Who knows what he feels right now? No one, not even the narrator.

Charlemagne goes out the front door of The Harpy to the Docks. Charlemagne has left.

Crowe watches his two nemesis' leave the tavern, leaving him peace at last. He resumes drinking his wine, and waits, knowing the Captain will soon be there, and then they can begin their work. Several minutes later, the tall and imposing form of Captain Bullet entering the Tavern. Crowe smiles softly and lifts a hand to signal to the Captain, letting him know his instructions thus far as he had directed him.

Bullet strolls casually through the loud and rowdy bar, watching the majority of the men part for him to pass. At last he reaches the table, and a slight brightening in his eyes shows when he sees the bottle of Dramboie, and a mug waiting for him. "Well done Crowe," he says as he sits down at the table, and opens the bottle. He pauses, and pressing on his chin with his right hand, he loudly cracks his neck.

Crowe notes this, and getting up slips around to sit behind his Captain, and begins to deep massage his neck with his slim nimble fingers. He carefully watches the Captain for his reaction, knowing he can switch moods faster than a rattlesnake can strike, so he moves carefully.

Bullet makes a soft, sighing sound in his throat only the Elf hears, but says nothing else.

Crowe continues to work at his Captain's shoulders, and neck, he leans over to whisper in your ear. "Does this please you Captain? I can stop if it does not..." he says purposely making his voice sound submissive.

Bullet nods slightly, "Ah yes.. my neck's always bothering me..." He leans into the rubbing.

Crowe nods, and continues to massage you, he watches the crowd in here, and every now and then, he leans down to whisper in your ear, things you should know that he overhears.

Bullet sighs softly as his neck gets the proper attention it so sorely needs. He wraps his hand around his mug of dramboie, and brings it to his lips, he tilts it back and takes a swig. He's going at a moderate pace tonight, he must be tired. He pulls the mug away from him with a small expression of gratefulness, to the dramboie of course. "Ahhhh." He leans back just a tad so he can listen to the whispers of Crowe.

Crowe lets his captain know what is being discussed in here, pirate matters and such. So far no talk of the plans made by the Sea Hawk Crew. Other gossip, and then his progress with something the captain gave him to decipher. Crowe keeps up with the deep tissue massage of the Captain's neck and shoulders too of course.

Bullet nods his head slightly as Crowe speaks, not in agreement, but just acknowledging that he heard him. The mug of dramboie, slowly disappearing, but not nearly at the rate that it normally does. He's apparently enjoy Crowe's manipulations greatly. (An elven chiropracter, who'd have thought?). << Well, at least this is hard for him to screw up... >> He thinks to himself. Bullet lets out a long long sigh. He apparently decides it's a good idea to make some sort of chatter, he doesn't want to look to terribly suspicious. A red haired long ears, rubbing a well feared captains neck. "So, Mr. Crowe... what did you do with your shore leave last night? Not too busy pilfering and plundering I imagine..."

Crowe inclines his head a bit to the side, shooting a deathly serious glare at someone making snide comments on the other side of the bar, then addresses his Captain. "I was working on that new project you gave me captain, the studying matter, then I did run into Mr Charlemagne..." he says voice trailing off. "He made veiled threats, but nothing I took seriously." he says matter of factly.

Bullet makes an odd face when you mention Charlemange, of course from your position, it's sort of difficult to tell. He says, "aye.. good man, spending your shore leave well... you may get somewhere at this rate." He doesn't say where, and more than likely, it'll probably be the same place that you've been heading, wherever that is. "Ah yes.. Charlamange. You be careful around him, I don't trust him farther than I can throw him right now.. he's not had any sort of tests to prove his loyalty, only his cunning. And a cunning man, is a very dangerous one is he's not loyal." He says, as if he was giving a speech. He then asks, right as you hit a particularly tense spot, "AHhhhh, what kind of threats?"

Crowe smiles wanly as you mention that he is a good man, and he keeps his comments about Charlemagne to himself. It's fine that you think he is a bumbling idiot, this just means no unwarrented suspicion comes his way. When you ask about the threats he made, he pauses in his massaging, recalling Charle's words. "He didn't threaten you captain." he says simply, chosing to be truthful in the matter. It doesn't pay for him to start shit.

Bullet nods softly, and makes another face as you stop. Actually, it's a continuation of the face from before. "Yes... well, that's all in well, but the last thing you need to be doing is having people threating you for no reason. At least in your position. Threating you with a reason, maybe, but I wouldn't have thought Charlamange would have already found a reason..." He thinks about what he's saying for a second, and he's slightly confused, it was somehow suppose to start off good as a compliment, but it just sort of turned downhill. Oh well. He wraps his hand back around the mug, takes it to his mouth and sips it slowly, he puts it back down on the table and asks, "So what did you make of the maps?"

Crowe internally boils at the comments Charle made about him, but he won't tell the Captain. Not a chance. A Toy he may be for now, but that is now how things will always be for him. He clears his mind of that, and resumes the massage, as he speaks, "It was cleverly written. Old language, and encoded within that. I have solved parts of it, but not all of it by a long shot. I shall keep on it Captain. You will have what you want." he says softly, near the Captain's ear.

Bullet nods softly, "Aye, I always do." He adds. Bullet's mind races with all thoughts of what sort of treasure could be buried there, jewels, gold deblumes... he gets a little bit of a glazed look in his eye as he thinks. His hand reaches down and wraps around his mug. He takes a small sip, and finishes the mug off. "Hrm.. you have any idea when you may have it solved?" He asks.

Crowe shrugs, but of course you can't see that movement. "Hard to say Captain. What with all the rest of the things I have to do now a days. I suppose a week or two..." he says with a leading tone to his voice. "If I am to go after Lotti, and need to prep for that, I would not of course be able to devote as much time to the Map as I would.... as you would like."

Bullet runs his hands through his black greasy hair, keeping it pulled back. An executive decision. He really does want that fat fuck cut up, but what's at the end of this map is really gratting on his nerves. Secretly, he also wants to put off the potential loss of his bed warmer for just a little bit longer. "I want you to crack the map before you crack Lotti's head." He orders. He pulls his mug up to his lips, and seems a bit surrpised when he finds it's empty. He throws the mug up against the wall. It lands about 3 feet awar from a bar maid's head, who pays no attention. It's something she puts up with everyday.

Crowe nods, and works you muscles a bit more diligently, feeling the sudden rise in tensions. Inwardly he is relieved to not be going on the Lotti mission right away. "Aye Captain, as soon as we... as soon as I return to the ship, I shall return to work on it. Can I order you more of your Dramboie?" he asks, leaning around to look you in the face for the first time since you arrived. He blinks, awaiting an answer.

Bullet blinks suddenly not expecting you to 'pop out in front of him' as you did. "Na'ery.. I don feel like another mug right now, our chef's dinner is not settin right, and I have no desire to be ill at the moment, so despite the sheer beauty of the drink, our chef managed to fuck it up." He notes. Apparently you are the not the only one on the ship who does screw up. (Although you could have already guessed that, you just get blamed for everything)

Crowe Keeps working at your shoulders while he still looks at you, a sympathetic look now on his youthful face. "Perhaps retiring early would sit better with you Captain? I could make you comfortable in your room, then get to work on the map." he offers in a straightforward manner.

Bullet nods slightly to you as you continue to knead away at his shoulders. Although he does seem content with your massages, he does feel it may be time for some rest. "Aye.." He trails off for a second, enjoying the rubbing for all it's worth. "I'm not staying up and raising hell as much as I used to when I was younger.. god forbid the thought that I'm getting old. I've still so much more hell to raise." He grins slightly. (Old? The man's not a day over 24, captaining a ship obviously puts much stress on the body and mind!)

Bullet adds, "I can't handle our chef as much as I used to either it seems."

Crowe gives you a playful little grin, and slips around from behind you to stand alongside the table. "I can kill the the cook for you if you like." he smirks. he offers only because in all seriousness, he KNOWS you won't give him such a task. "We might all fare better than..." he says, then waits for you to join him on the walk back to the ship. He waits to see if you will need assistance walking or not.

Bullet stiffles a laugh, "No no... no need to kill the man.. maybe just cut off his hands." Of course, you can tell by his ton of voice, he is joking. He stands up slowly, he does seem a little wobbly, but nothing that he can't handle under his own power, just slow. He walks towards the door.

Bullet goes out the front door of The Harpy to the Docks. Bullet has left.

Crowe follows you into your chambers, closing and locking the doors behind you as you lead him. Once inside the inner room, he waits for you to sit down, and begins to help you remove your boots and set them aside. Once they are discarded, he looks up at you for more instructions, then says, "Bath tonight Captain?"

Bullet looks down at you a bit confused... bath.. oh yes! It's been about a week. "Yes.. I suppose it's about that time for that." (He thinks in his head.. that chore. What a waste. Sit in a tub of water) "I suppose I should stink of clean again for a little while." He alowly walks over to his little japanese screen and throws his overcoat atop it, managging not to topple it this time. He slowly undoes his belt, and places his holster on the ground.

Crowe makes a little cheerful noise, and quickly rushes out for Hot water from the Galley, and dumps them into the tub. Once the hot water is added, he adds cold water, and avoids the scented oils HE would use. He doesn't want to push his luck. He strips down to just his threadbare pants, and sits on a stool next to the tub, holding a sponge and a bar of soap.

Bullet removes his shirt over his head and runs his hands through his greasy hair. He unbuttons his trousers and simply lets them fall to the floor. He stands there for a second, in all his *ahems* 'normal state' glory. He has a somewhat disgusted look on his face. He sort of likes his smell. It makes him scary, and even worse of a person to have to come up and talk to. He walkes over to you and very very carefully steps into the tub. He stands there, only up to his calves looking down at you, "We shall make this quick _right_?" He doesn't seem to pleased about the idea of staying in any longer than necessary

Crowe nods quickly, he knows is the most dangerous battle he will ever engage in. Getting you as clean as possible before you tire of it, and beat him. "Aye Captain, just take some off the top layer..." he grins, and waits for you to sit down, he has the sponge in one hand, the soap in the other, and is ready to wash like a hurricane once you are in position. "It will relax you Captain, really." he says with the most innocent of smiles.

Bullet rolls his eyes and sits down slowly, making sure not to splash any water up into his face as he sits down. He turns so his back it is towards you. You can hear him muttering things to himself, but his mouth is shit, so even elf ears can't quite make out what he's saying.

Crowe quickly gets the sponge soaking wet, and starts with your hair, getting it wet, then soaping it up, and rinising it off again. He takes great pains to keep water and soap out of your eyes. Strangely enough, your intense eyes and stare are his favorite trait of yours. Once the hair is washed, he starts scrubbing your back, and arms, then wraps his arms around you to get to your chest. Once those are done. He pauses, slighly winded as he come around the tube to reach in for legs. He looks over at you, giving you a sly smile, then looking away again.

Bullet does not seemed to thrilled about having you wash his hair. He was trying to avoid getting any part of his head wet, but it's a bit to late as you start right on it. Once you move on past it though, it doesn't seem like he hates it quite so much. He actually lets out a bit of a sigh as you wash his back, apparently he almost likes it. He does something somewhat odd when you wash him below the belt. He was seemingly unsuspecting of that one. Chest, back, hair was a pain, but he was already sitting in the water, isn't that clean now? Apparently not. But back to the reaction. He coughes. Just slightly, and if you were looking at him, you could almost make out a bit more of the presecnece of the color red in his face. << Ugh, this is so humiliating, he acts like I'm a child. He must be sick in the head, he enjoys this. >>

Crowe looks over at you, as if sensing your unease, and looks up at you as he quickly finishes washing you down in the now cloudy water. The most high and wealthy are tended to in this way Captain. Plus you know I never speak of the things.... " he pauses. "I NEVER discuss what transpires in here between us Captain, although... many have their suspicions as to what occurs..." he says, blushing himself now across his pale face, then looks away as he sits back on the stool. "Done Captain." he says, slightly winded."

Bullet very quickly stands up, and steps out of the top, dripping water everywhere. He's looking for a towel, however, it's a very short search in order to find one. The first order of business is getting the 'wet' off of his hair and head. His words are slightly muffled by the towel, "I know you never discuss anything that happens, because it's in your health's best interest not to discuss it. I really could Mmpph careless about what the crew thinks, they are off laying whores anyways." He pulls the towel over his shoulders, and begins to wipe them off, "I don't care if the rich do live like that, the rich like to think of themselves as infeebled." He notes. Too him it really wouldn't matter who was scrubbing him, it's still a chore.

Crowe looks up at you from his seated position as you towel off, and a sadness comes over him as you seem to liken him with the whores the crew lies with. He is not sure if the comparison was intentional or not, but in any case, it wounds him to the core of his being. He does not show it however. He quickly gets up, and gets you a nightshirt from your wardrobe, and then starts disposing of the fetid water in the tub by dumping it out one of the portholes. "I'll get to working on that map now Captain..." he says idly.

Bullet pulls the night shirt over his head, and looks to you, a bit disappointed, he's tired, and has na'ery the energy to even attempt any sort of 'recreational activity' with you. He's too tired, and he doesn't have the urge to demand anything right now. He's still realing from being bathed. Ick. He does however let out a very audible sigh as he walks over to the bed, and lies down on it. "Aye Crowe, bounty awaits." He says quietly before pulling a sheet overtop of him.

Crowe looks over at you and inwardly is releived the bath took the wind out of your lust sails, and the only person abusing him tonight will be him, if he gets the chance. "Good night Captain." he says softly, and turns down the lanterns in the room leaving just one over the desk for him to work by. He sits down at the desk and after unscrolling the map, begins to work to decipher it again. Softly he hums to himself in the near dark as he works.

Bullet yawns, and within a minute of him pulling the sheet over himself, the heavy breathing of sleep can be heard. Bullet's a heavy sleeper, and an even heavy breather. You can see his chest rise and fall slowly through the thin silk sheets, very hypnotic. He doesn't toss or turn any, he just lies there on his back, much in a way young kids will lie down in the grass to watch the stars at night.

(Continued)