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[ OPEN!! ] yo ho ho
WHO: Charles Vane & YOU!
WHAT: A pirate wanders around civilization for the first time.
WHEN: July
WHERE: Kirkwall - Docks, gallows, taverns.
NOTES: Bad words, violence, idk
WHAT: A pirate wanders around civilization for the first time.
WHEN: July
WHERE: Kirkwall - Docks, gallows, taverns.
NOTES: Bad words, violence, idk
I. PORT;
[ the galleon that bears no nation's flag sits silent and still, like an omen, at the mouth of Kirkwall's port, just out of gun range, seeming like any other merchant ship that comes and goes, but strange in its distance and its anonymity. only a few launchers come forth from it, carrying a few people, and a stash of cargo - several chests, all equally unremarkable unless you know what you're looking for (pick the lucky barrel). Unless you're Captain Flint or Charles Vane. What remains of the crew sit in the rigging and watch from the railing on every deck, as the few approach the docks.
After a short, quiet jumble of whispers between three of them, a lady in an elegant gown and finery takes off with a handful of sailors towards the Gallows, and the Inquisition. The captain, to a tavern, and whatever other winding roads he might take to keep the chest safe. And Vane - he stays, on watch, perhaps, though their single vanguard ship is far out of harm's way. Nerves, maybe, and his arms cross over his chest, eyes in narrowed slits that skim over the other sailors working the ships, primarily. A glance or two, maybe, for the remaining passersby, clearly not so interested in them.
Some crews may actually take note of how closely he eyes each ship, as if inspecting, assessing. Maybe looking for a weakness, maybe trying to figure out the best way to steal it. Old habits die hard, and he is a pirate captain without his own ship. Devilishly clever as Flint is, Vane isn't one to comfortably take orders from any man besides Blackbeard.
Vane will be lingering in the area for some hours, before one of the crew comes jogging back to give him news. In the meantime, he explores the docks, watches, and occasionally tosses a glance out to the galleon in the wider port. He may pause to chat with someone who looks in charge of one of the docked vessels - likely a quartermaster or something similar. not the captain or merchant prince that owns the ship, just someone who knows it well, questioning where they came from, how the seas fared, how they like Kirkwall as a port. Nothing too suspect. ]
II. KIRKWALL/DARKTOWN;
[ Once their dealings are settle with the Inquisition, and they have some form of tentative partnership, Vane sets out to bolster what they'd lost. Most of all - men, crew. Allies, supplies, connections. This isn't Nascere, and they won't be able to reach out to the good old channels. Time is of the essence, and they need to be on their feet, ready to run. He spends much of the next week wandering Darktown, familiarizing himself with the territories, the gangs, the carta, the boy selling drugs on the street corner, the whore houses and how committed they are to plying out secrets. The markets and the special passwords one might need to see the VIP stock. The gossip. Those are the simple things to accomplish.
Finding men - men that can be trusted, relied upon, that care for the same freedoms he and Flint do - is not so easy. But, one's to start with the basics. Best they know their way around a ship. One night, after sitting in a tavern for an hour or so, Vane stands, stepping up on a chair to call out over the others' heads, gravely voice the kind of thing that demands immediate attention - ]
I don't suppose there's any actual sailors in this shithole, is there? [ Tact is not his strong point, and tone policing is not something that will fly for even a second on the Walrus. Best they get that out of the way first. ]
And I do mean sailors. [ a beat, in no hurry to get his words out, as his eyes cast around those others in the tavern, already assessing. ] Ferry skippers need not apply.
[ and by sailors, he means pirates. or privateers and bored shiphands that could be convinced into being pirates. assuming he can stomach them long enough to recruit them. it's been a long, long time since Charles Vane has ever needed to actively recruit, most in Nascere willing to jump at the chance to join his crew. it feels like starting all over, from the first step he'd taken out from under Blackbeard's wing. Perhaps there's something apt in that.
Not that he cares to mull on it - sentimentality has never been a close friend of his. ]
III. GALLOWS
[ Vane is the least likely of the new pirate initiates from north to wander and hang about the Gallows, but during their first handful of weeks, he's set to familiarizing himself with their resources. His end destination will be the Naval Presence offices, as he'll be joining the project and wishing to see how the crew and ship he sailed in with will be employed by the Inquisition. Flint's ship, sure, but an asset of Nascere that they're loathe to part with for long to unknown hands. Should he find the door to the office open, Vane will be letting himself in to inspect what he can of maps and charts. If not, he'll quietly wait outside for others from the project, eyes cast out a window to where the Walrus is docked.
However, he makes several stops along the way, one of them to the training grounds, where he watches a set of Templars running drills and sparring, leaning back against a post to watch from a distance with a crowd of others - either spectators or other soldiers waiting for their turn to train. After watching one fall to the ground with a heavy klunk, Charles snorts, murmuring. ] You'd think they'd bake in all that metal. They at least have the sense to take it off before loading them onto ships?
[ the latter asked to the nearest Inquisition member that seems more at home here than him. He's just imagining an entire squad of these fools trying to strip down while a ravaged ship starts going under, or they're told to prepare to board an enemy vessel.
from there, Vane trails over to the dining hall, inspecting the food, grabbing a turkey leg to chomp down on and a pint of ale to toss back like it's water. The captain takes his own table, off in a corner, part because he doesn't know any of these people, part because he certainly doesn't trust them, and part because he's just an anti-social vagrant. either way, he's the most still and relatively safe looking as he's been all day, so if someone's wanting to come snoop on this new pirate crew the Inquisition inducted, or curious to see what rumors about them are true or not (or which there are many, Vane's own stories not the least disturbing of them) - this is your best chance.
Charles will pass through the dorms, the armory, and walk the Gallows walls to inspect fortifications as well. Feel free to run into him wherever along the way. ]
IV. WILDCARD;
[ idefk hit me ]
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She doesn't seek Vane out right away. Instead, she takes a moment to observe. Kitty looks exactly like what she is - a thin, ferocious scrapper, an alley cat of a girl. And although she's definitely a girl, with glimmers of a teenager's gawkiness and a bit of roundness persisting in her face, there's a hardness to her face and her manner. Her hand never strays far from her knife, and her eyes flash suspiciously to the least movement, and she does not allow herself to get too far from where the gangplank provides an escape to the dock.
She watches the men here, too - looks at the way the deck is organized, tries to suss out the patterns in the ropes and the masts and the sails (yeah, she has no idea), tries to figure out who has which jobs and who answers to who and whether the workers look desperate or resentful or afraid. (They don't. These aren't slaves, she can tell; they're not even debt-slaves. There's no bobbing, terrified deference here.) And only once she's studied the ship does she do what she came for. ]
Hullo. You're Mr Vane, right?
[ Captain, Kitty. Captain. ]
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the men certainly aren't slaves currently, and vane works alongside them rather than standing at a higher deck barking commands, but what she likely doesn't know is that some were slaves once before. those that came from vane's most recent crew addition - the ones he'd freed from Albinus, or those from the slaver ship they'd hunted, ending up joining into a crew once they came to Nascere.
as for kitty, she just seems to be peering around for the time being, so Vane doesn't bother approaching her. If she needs him, it's clear enough who he is. And, as expected, when she's ready to address him, she does, Vane stepping back from one of the ballista pieces he'd been helping to move. ]
Captain Vane. "Mister" is what you call a quartermaster, boatswain or mate otherwise.
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[ Right, she'd known that. Or, well, she'd known that ship captains got called captain. She hadn't necessarily known that the title was obligatory. This wasn't the information she'd come for, of course, but her curiosity always gets the better of her; she cocks her head and asks - ]
What if someone doesn't recognize you as captain? Like, say, people who don't respect your authority to command a ship?
[ Like the Tevinter navy, for instance, who don't take kindly to pirates. ]
What would they call you?
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[ he tells her with a smirk, because yeah, that's about what every Tevinter soldier or sailor calls any of them. it makes no difference if they're a common sailor or captain of an entire fleet. ]
But if someone's on the ship I'm currently commanding, either I'm 'captain', or they can leave.
[ a ship, especially one this size, has no room to be arguing that. ]
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Is this your ship, then? I know that you lot came in on a single ship, didn't you, and isn't Flint also a captain?
[ It's not said cheekily - she's asking for information. But it seems that Kitty does not exactly have much of an instinct for diplomacy. ]
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[ well, sort of. the crew was whoever managed to get away from the island fast enough, most of them Flint's to begin with, as they were already on board. but by the rules pirates go by, a ship belongs to it's crew, not it's captain, which is why a captain can be voted off, but the crew remains.
still, vane doubts flint would ever allow it to happen, much like how he maneuvered around Singleton, back when Vane had an interest in seeing him deposed. Flint tends to be in a category of his own, tends to make things happen just by force of will. ]
When he's here, Flint's the captain. When he's not, I am. [ and currently, he is not. a beat, and vane adds on - ] And seeing as Flint near sailed my crew's ship into a fucking blockade, then sent it off on a wild goose chase, he owns me one.
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Is he the sort of man who pays off his debts? Are you going to get your ship, d'you think?
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then again, the last time flint owed him a ship, vane just fucking took it. he's not one to allow himself to go unpaid. after a pause of thought, he answers shortly. ]
We'll find a way to make it even. We both in agreement that it's not what's most important right now.
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So - you said that this ship is the crew's ship. That's with regards to shares, right? That all the crew gets a part of the proceeds?
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Higher ranked officers have a larger cut, due to experience, skill and increased difficulty of the job. Part goes to the upkeep and supply of the ship at large as well.
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But for something like sailor to mate? Always. Captain included.
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[ You know. Muscles. ]
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My old Quartermaster. Never been much good with the fighting and shit, but he could play a crew like a fiddle.
[ there’s perhaps just a tiny hint of something sad in his voice, because vane still has no word on where jack, or anne, are, if they’re safe, if they’re alive. He prays the rescue from rogers won’t be the last time he sees him.]
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Kitty watches Vane with some interest. More than anything, she's interested in whether...well. Whether there's room for different sorts, in his pirate-democracy. Whether it's only brutality and strength, or whether others can rise to the top. Whether there's room for peacemakers, for diplomats, for scholars... ]
So - not everyone has to fight, then?
wtf i swear i remember writing this tag, did i just not post it???
Everyone fights if they're crewing a ship. I said Jack wasn't good, not that he didn't join us over the rails.
[ well, sometimes, anyway. jack had his ways of getting around stuff, but vane wasn't typically of the mind that he could slack off just because he was the captain's best friend. at least, not all the time. ] He'd a friend, Anne, who was one of my best fighters. She kept an eye on him when it got dangerous.