"That's a dress."
It is Wednesday morning, April 19, 1690, in the sleepy town of Misty Waters and a sleepy town it is indeed since it is still the wee hours of the day.
The sun has not yet risen, and no cock has even dared to crow; nothing is stirring; no man nor beast is out and about in the thick layer of mist covering the world. Except for the lights flickering in the windows of the Floundering Footman, everything is quiet.
Candles are lit inside the inn, bathing the bar area in warm, moving light, the shadows hiding the dire need for repairs the place is perpetually suffering from. The atmosphere is buzzing with anticipation and excitement, and there might even be a pinch of fear in the air, mingling with the smell of old ale and watered-down rum.
Most of the crew of the sloop, The Happy Harpy, are gathered in the bar that would've been deserted at this hour of the day if it weren't for their presence. The proprietor of this less-than-fine establishment, Hanford Abernathy, is well known for looking the other way and accepting coins from whoever is willing to pay him. He himself is constantly playing fast-and-loose with the law and in no position to betray others who do so too.
Trust and loyalty are things that are earned through time... and sometimes, it is forced on others by threats. In the case of the captain and crew of the Happy Harpy, Abernathy's trust and loyalty were gained through a little of both.
The government body of this specific town has long ago learned that keeping their noses out of the things going on in the underbelly of the dockside means that the less savoury people and activities stay in this area and don't spread out to the good folks of the... uhm... upper belly?
Right now, about 50 or so members of that less-than-savoury variety are sitting, standing and lounging around the bar, creating more customers than any usual night would have, and Hanford is not about to turn up his nose at them. He is gleefully re-filling chipped glasses and putting out battered wooden platters of crudely cut bread, cheese and ham, even though the sun is yet to peak over the hills.
At least, he was pouring drinks and handing out food at the scratched and pitted long shelf of the bar, but he has now joined the gathered men in gaping at the foot of the staircase, where a vision in pink and white lace and brocade has appeared from the bedrooms above the bar.
Her hair could do with a good brush, but Olivetta Brown doesn't need fancy updos and fine jewellery to enhance her sultry beauty. A white lace bow carelessly gathers some of the cascades of brown ringlets behind her head, and the trimming of lace at the dress's bodice barely keeps her creamy breasts from escaping their confines.
First Mate Olivetta Brown
There is an audible sigh of wonder and desire rippling through the onlookers as they gaze at her glowing lips and her long, languid lashes. Most of the gathered men finally decide that drowning their fantasies in a mug of ale or rum is much healthier than engaging in any romantic ideas (some valiant, others not so much) involving the second in command of the Happy Harpy.
"Of course, it's a dress," she snaps, turning her emerald eyes to glare at the man who'd dared to state the obvious in a tone filled with shock and contempt, Rhyder Bayne, captain of the Happy Harpy. With swaying hips, she walks down the last couple of steps, cutting a path through the crew to stand in front of the captain. She has to tilt her head back to look at his face, but that in no way detracts from the defiance of her pose. "I'm not going to go about wearing trousers like a savage anymore. I am a lady, after all."
"So, only savages wear long pants?" Jaxx, the resident scribe and keeper of secrets, enquires, tossing his black dreadlocks over his shoulder and moving his spectacles to get a better look at his own trousers and that of the auburn-haired man closest to him, casually leaning against the bar next to the captain, grinning at the young woman who came to a stop near them.
Scribe Jaxx... just Jaxx
"Doesn't that mean that she definitely should be wearing long pants all the time then?" he asks Jaxx, grunting when Olivetta steps closer to elbow him in the stomach. Flynn O'Brien, the Quartermaster, rubs the spot where she'd hit him, still laughing, unperturbed by the sudden show of violence. "Aw, Lass, I've always fancied yer savage side."
Quartermaster Flynn O'Brien
"Aye," Rhyder nods his head, giving Olivetta a sarcastic smirk. "Ye sure are a fine lady, Ollie."
Olivetta tilts her head to the side, as sure a sign of looming danger as the saucy smile she's now directing at him, narrowing her eyes. Rhyder, as always, is undaunted in the face of peril, mainly because he is too dense to spot the signs.
"We're about to board and set sail," he tells her, frowning in a way that makes his usually jovial face look rather menacing. Captain Bayne is saved from being pretty by a long, jagged scar running from his left ear in an arch across his cheek to the corner of his chin. Thanks to that scar, he obtained a few months ago, he is now quite handsome.
At the moment he is, however, scary-looking rather than handsome, but his second in command is holding his gaze with her steamy green eyes, staring him into submission. Rhyder is one of few beings who don't quake before those burning eyes, probably because he grew up having glaring competitions with the wench.
Captain Rhyder Bayne
"How are ye going to go out raping and pillaging, burning down villages, fighting monsters and mermaids on a pirate ship in a frilly get-up like that?" he asks what he believes to be a very reasonable question.
"I thought we do not do the whole raping, pillaging and burning down villages thing," one of the newer recruits, a young man named Reyansh, saved from being fed to alligators on the Island of the Burning Shores (long story), observes. His nervous tick, a twitching eye, kicked into effect at the mention of such unsavoury business. This is the third time since showing up at the inn that he is rethinking his decision to sign up for the crew of the Happy Harpy. The only reason he did so was because he has some hope of returning to the home he'd been stolen from by rovers (Indian pirates) to serve as a deckhand on their ship.
Rey (Reyansh) Kaul
Bayne and his crew saved him when their paths crossed and brought him to Misty Waters. If he wants to return to his beloved mother in India and not fall into the hands of other pirates or die at sea, being a crew member of the Happy Harpy is his best bet. Captain Bayne never resorts to using press-gang methods to ensure sufficient crew members for his ship; all his followers and associates are with him by choice.
Most of the men in this rugged, wooden hut excuse of an inn were saved from death or freed from involuntary service by him at one time or another and simply decided to stay with him.
"It's a figure of speech," the captain explains, softening his expression and giving Rey a reassuring smile. "When I said raping and pillaging and burning down villages, I meant that there will be no raping, very low-key pillaging, and we won't be burning down any villages... unless the residents try to eat us again."
There is a general murmur of discontent going around the room now, causing Rhyder's scowl to return, and he nimbly hauls himself onto the edge of the bar to have a little more height from which to glare at every person in the place more effectively.
"I joined the crew of yer father's ship to gain fortune and have adventures, but ye're turning us into upstanding, law-abiding citizens of Nowhere. That does not seem fair," one of the more hardened and older crew members jeers; most of his brain and at least half his limbs are already pickled in rum. Many of Rhyder's officers have raised their misgivings about having this man on their crew as his true loyalty to the fine art of piracy and to Rhyder's father, Grosvenor Bayne, also fondly known as Bayne the Baleful, always shows up when he is drunk... which is almost all the time.
Seamus Munro
Rhyder insists on keeping him by his side, saying that it's better to keep your enemies close and that Seamus Munro has a depth of experience to be tapped, but there is going to come a day when his commanders are going to pitch the vile man overboard.
Rhyder is turning that scowl of his onto his men now, his brown eyes snapping from face to face, each faltering under his glare, except for the faithful members that have sailed with him since before their voices broke and they left their childhood behind. They had all been children together, learning the ropes as members of Rhyder's father's crew, some willingly, some forced into it, and theirs is an unbreakable bond... mostly.
"I see we have a mutiny on our hands now, and we haven't even boarded the ship yet. Just what the hell kind of crew have we gathered for ourselves, Mr O'Brien?" Most of the mumblers have fallen silent; they were, after all, not lamenting the fact that they won't be allowed to sow mayhem and murder around at will. They were thinking about the lack of fame and fortune serving under Rhyder Bayne awards pirates.
Rhyder has a bad name among civilized people because he is the son of a notorious pirate and does have a strong habit of skirting the law and breaking those he sees as unnecessary or in his way. Many man-made laws fall into those categories. He also has a bad name among pirates, as he thinks nothing of relieving them of their ill-gotten gains, thwarting their evil plans and releasing crew members who didn't volunteer for the job.
Rhyder has as little respect for pirate laws as he does for those of general civilization and, therefore, often finds himself on the wrong side of both.
He is also known for forgoing treasures and riches in pursuit of more noble goals, something that drives the fortune-driven members of his crew up the main mast in frustration. They complain, they brawl, they threaten, and yet they stay with him because they also love him. Well, most of them do. Seamus is deep in his cups this morning; the man probably didn't stop drinking when the rest of the crew went to bed and is still glaring daggers at his captain.
"I am seriously starting to regret saving yer sorry lives," Rhyder grumbles, and almost all of his crew lowers their heads, including Seamus, who is one of those whose lowly lives were saved by Rhyder, either indirectly, directly or by accident. "So, what's it going to be? Are ye going to knock me off and steal me ship? Is that the plan?"
The discontent is now displaced by murmurs negating the stated plans for mutiny. Some regret their flare-up and desire to return to their old and wicked ways, while others know that Captain Bayne's officers will cut them down before they could even think of striking. Most of the men (and the woman, in Olivetta's case) closest to Rhyder are fierce and undefeated in combat; only ignorant or foolish people dare to cross them.
Most of them are fairly young, and many are too good-looking and friendly in appearance to be recognised as dangerous at first sight, but crossing them is a mistake most enemies only get to make once.
"We're jus' sayin', Cap'n," Ham, a man who calls himself a bard but doesn't seem to play any musical instruments and cannot carry a tune, tries to explain. "We be missin' somethin' to be lookin' forwar' to. I be bar'd." There he goes again, declaring himself to be a bard.
Ham (Hamish) Dunne
"That's right, Cap'n," a young volunteer pipes up in agreement with Ham. "If there's not going to be any fun and fortune to be had, there's not much point in signing up for yer crew, now is there? I can work me fingers to the bone and be bored right here in me home town."
A handful of young fishermen and sons of farmers who dream of exploring the wide seas, of adventure and treasures, have signed up to form part of Rhyder's crew. It is partially due to the captain's charisma but also sheer boredom from living in a small town and listening to the drunken ramblings of sea dogs... and believing them. Generally, Rhyder tries to put them off the idea, and only those adamant about joining get to do so.
"Ye'll still get to fight monsters," Rhyder is, of course, referring to unknown animals that often tend to attack those that cross their paths. Many will one day have names and be identifiable and avoidable, but for now, the sea and the world are mostly undiscovered, and the discoveries don't always work out well for either party involved. "There will be some fortune because we're bound to run into freebooters, cut-throats, marauders and rovers, and we'll help them get rid of their loot."
At the mention of these bloodthirsty, greedy predators of the sea, Rey's twitch starts up again, and he pulls the eyepatch from his forehead to cover his winking eye. The eye patch gives him a menacing look that does not fit with his meek, good-natured personality at all.
"Didn't we have fun last time?" Rhyder asks his returning crew members, once again glancing from man to man, his anger dissipated by his infectious grin.
Memories of islands with ponds and waterfalls as pure and clear as rain, fresh fruit, beautiful, welcoming women and treasures re-claimed from other pirates and fairly distributed are being recalled, and soon the crew members of the Happy Harpy are joyfully eating their bread and drinking their liquor, no longer interested in complaining. Many are still interested in Olivetta and her curves and her thick, lush hair, though, but they're trying not to show it.
Usually, Olivetta only shows this side of herself and brings out her alluring gifts to use against enemies. She is a master at creating distractions in aid of the crew. Right now, she is distracting almost everybody, which might have one wonder if she is going to attempt a mutiny of her own.
"I'm wearing this dress," she tells Rhyder when he slides off the bar to stand in front of her again. She has little patience for speeches and uprisings and a low tolerance for nonsense like mutinies. She is, therefore, quickly bringing the discussion back on topic.
"I know there's no stopping ye once ye get it into yer head to do something, but can ye still fight in that getup?" Rhyder demands to know, pressing his lips in a tight line and glaring down at the woman standing in front of him.
Olivetta gazes into his eyes for a few quiet seconds, ignoring Flynn and Jaxx, picking at their stale bread, sniggering in amusement at the pair and then she shrugs. She takes a step closer, ducking under Rhyder's arm and hooks his foot with one of her own, shoving him off balance against the edge of the bar.
Before the dolt can even realise that she's giving him a demonstration, she already has one of her many hidden knives at his throat. Moving the blade to the side of his neck, she carefully cuts through the top layer of his skin, just deep enough to make him flinch.
"I think she can still fight, Captain," Flynn informs Rhyder and winking at Flynn, Olivetta lowers her knife, kisses Rhyder's cheek, and tousles the crazy mop of curls, softly flopping over his forehead. Rhyder keeps his hair very short, but he never touches those curls. He has a theory that they become more curly and grow faster if he cuts them, so he thinks it best just to let them be and only trim them out of his eyes when they get out of hand.
"Why, though?" he can never just let anything go. If something does not make sense to him, he picks at it and questions it and pokes at it until it does. It often causes fights, but he is always like a dog with a marrow-filled bone.
"I want to look beautiful all the time now," Olivetta tells him, which only serves to make the man even more suspicious.
"Why, though?"
"I'm too old to go chopping off me hair and wearing breeches and pretending to be a boy, like Billy over there," she flings a hand out, indicating the 11-year-old boy they saved from being a powder monkey in the British Navy two years ago.
"I am a boy," the kid objects, a little put out, but Olivetta is not looking at him; she is looking down at the twin hills straining against the lace at her bosom and now most of the men are looking at them too. "I'm almost a man," Billy grumbles, not old enough yet to be fully interested in the First Mate's curves.
Cabin Boy / Cook Billy (William) Bennett
"I like wearing dresses," Olivetta informs Rhyder. "I like how they feel and how they move. I like pretty things, and besides," she places a hand on either side of her chest, squeezing her breasts together for a couple of seconds. Nobody notices the few men falling off their seats or choking on their rum; Olivetta's performance has everybody enthralled. "These are really pretty now, and they don't want to remain in hiding anymore."
Rhyder is gaping at her with huge eyes, blinking as if he got sand tossed in them.
"Please put those away," he mutters, making her laugh, and next to him, Flynn is now snorting his drink.
"No," Olivetta huffs, shoving past Rhyder to join the quartermaster, the scribe and the sailing master at the bar. She picks up Flynn's mug of ale and takes a couple of deep sips from it since he is too busy coughing up his lungs to have any use for it at the moment.
"I don't have time for this now," Rhyder growls, not because his First Mate (very unusual for a pirate ship) is being insubordinate in front of his crew, but because they literally don't have time and he has things to do. Besides, everybody is used to their squabbles, and a dress is not all that important; Olivetta never crosses him on important matters; they always form a solid unit against their enemies and in commanding the ship.
"We sail in two hours, just before sunrise," Rhyder announces to the room while he crosses the floor to the exit. "Anybody not on board will be left behind."
"Does that include ye?" Olivetta asks, giving him a sulky look, which he answers with his usual arrogant, half-mast-lidded eyes and a smirk before he slips out the door.
♣♣♣