((My my! You guys certainly have done a lot since the last time I've posted And Mugen is a sexy best. Also one of my favorite anime's second only to Digimon, 'o course! ))


Ele went down hard when a foot landed squarely with the middle of her back. Between the stomping feet and fighting bodies she saw the second doll, the male, sail into the air as if he where flying. She would have been more appreciative of the beauty if he hadn't used her as a spring board. "Dam runt!" Eleanor gasped from her position, holding the floor down. She'd gotten the wind knocked out of her.

Her one compensation was the feeling she'd had of ripping cloth. If there was any justice in this world that ripping would have come from a certain person's purse. To keep from being trampled, Ele had tucked herself against an over turned table, covering her head as best she could with her arms. Peeking out of her half-assed shelter, she caught many glimpses of the two combatants. 'Is he insane!?' She wondered, watching with a mixture of disbelief and anger. 'Why hasn't some one sliced him open yet?' Although Ele didn't much hope that some one would. It would serve nicely to wipe that cocky, shit-eating grin from his ugly mug, but then she'd just have some one new to kill to get that gold.

Speaking of which. Things where beginning to quiet down now. Only a few left alive and those who could where beginning to high tail it out. That meant her cover was leaving. "Shit..." Eleanor unfolded herself form her cover and slowly sat up, thankful she'd been unnoticed as of yet. There was no way she would be able to go toe to toe with that guy. Sheer strength was on his side. But maybe speed was on hers. Ele only had one shot at this. If she missed, well, there where worse ways to die.

She fell into a low crouch, her legs squarely under her. Her knife at the ready, Eleanor pushed herself forward, her body slicing through the air like a bullet. Her target was the ship-less captain, or more specifically, the baggie hanging off his belt. Behind him was a window, the expensive glass broken out from the fight. It would be her escape route. Just a quick swipe of her blade and Ele could jump out that window a much richer woman. Granted it all depended on if Mr. Wannabe Pirate King was as slow as he was stupid.

Reaching out her hand before her, Ele grabbed the purse in her fist. she held it so tightly that the coins inside actually bit into her palm, leaving red marks on her skin. Not that she cared. The strings snapped with a sharp pop. She didn't pause to thank the gods for her luck. Eleanor was still going all out for the window. Escape was in her grasp.

((Isn't he? I love Mugen. ^ ^ ))

Basil was surprised when he heard the dashing footsteps of the wannabe thief. He turned as he dropped down into a stance that was more ready for an attack than for a mugging. When she grabbed onto his coin purse he couldn't help but yell out, "Fucking coward!" as he dashed after what he assumed to be some girly looking bastard. He even dropped his sword on his way after her! When she jumped for the window, Basil leaped after her.

They landed in a tangle outside in the snow where Basil attempted to pin the little thief to the ground and thoroughly pummel him before taking back the wallet.

((If he pins her, then this is how it'd go~ If not, skip over this part and I'll write what he'd do if she got away.))

Basil was straddling the fucking girly looking bastard and was about to punch the thief's lights out when he noticed something. This guy's figure was a bit too... feminine. Basil held the girl's wrists down to the ground as he took a closer look at her face. Then, he realized something.
"You little bitch." Basil practically spat at her,
"You'd better be happy you're not a man or you'd have some serious problems with that pretty little face of yours right about now." His voice was practically dripping with rage.
"There's almost nothing I hate more than a coward." He looked down at her for quite a while with that anger still in his eyes.
"The next time I see you, you'd better hope you're as lucky as you were this time." He began to scan the ground for his wallet, still being sure to keep the girl pinned. Every now and again he'd glance back at her with a look of complete disgust. Once he spotted it, he got up, but dragged her with him by the wrist. Once he picked up his wallet, he held her palm out in front of himself and dropped a couple of coins into it, saying,
"If you're that desperate for money, then take this, you little shit." He was still obviously very pissed off. But, it almost seemed like it was for a different reason... That or he was angry because he couldn't punch the living daylights out of her because of gender.
"You fucking bitch," he mumbled under his breath before turning, closing up his coin purse, and putting it away in it's original and much safer place on his person. He went back through the window and into the bar.
Once inside, he made his way back across the room to Nero, and offering the doll his hand a second time he said,
"Nice to meet you, Nero, I'm Basil."

((Then, basically, if she got away, Basil chases her down until he gets a chance to tackle her or catch her or something to get his money back.... He'd be pretty determined. Or if he ended up losing sight of her, he'd search the town over all night. If he found her, he'd probably punch her regardless of gender and take his money back. But, if he didn't, then he'd just be one grumpy person while he stole and gathered up funds other ways. You know, until he had enough to persuade someone into 'selling' him a ship. Aaaand... Yeah. Basil's got a code. O: Surprising, yeah? Especially since he's a pirate.... I don't really get it much myself.))

((Since I enjoy longer posts, I'll go with that he catches her.))

Eleanor stared down at the coins in her hand. They felt weighty and warm against her chilly skin. The snow was beginning to melt into her clothes, making her shiver. Ele's lips pulled back over her teeth in a silent snarl. 'How dare he!' she thought, her fingers closing over the gold and squeezing tight till her knuckles where white. How dare that fool just give away his gold to her like she was some beggar! Ele was many things, but she was not some one who took charity.

A smarter girl would have taken the coins and left, thankful to be able to live another day. But apparently, Eleanor was not one of those girls. "Oi! Bastard!" she yelled, stomping back into the Inn. So Basil was his name, eh? Ele spat to the side, even hearing it just made her angrier. "Don't you dare act like your better then me! Your not!" She didn't care if she sounded juvenile, she didn't care if she was acting suicidal. All Eleanor felt was that her pride had been ripped to shreds and she was dam well gonna do something about it. It was almost all she had left.

Throwing the gold pieces at Basil's feet, Eleanor traded him glare for glare, dirty look for dirty look. "Where the fuck does a piece of trash like you get off calling me shit? Huh!" She took a step forward, brandishing her knife.

((sheesh, so violent. Really Ele? ))

(o.o guys...did you forget me or something?
-goes to sob in a corner-
No, no, you can keep roleplaying all day without me! ;-; See if I care! -sobsob- How dare you hurted mah feelers? Jerks.
-sobby le sob sob-

Also: mochi-PANda says that she's a bit caught up in moving and so won't really be able to continue the roleplay. Dx everybody mourn this fact.)

After the fight, Garret was less than pleased. He was soaked in blood, ashamed of himself and actually a bit tired. It was a good exercise, and against his better judgment he let his lips curl upwards slightly from the rush of adrenaline. There was no way he would admit that underneath all that guilt was a tinge of excitement, especially to the two - no, three. There was a woman marching in after attempting to steal Basil's purse, screaming her head off with some insults - inside the building. None of them seemed reputable. Unlike him.

Need I remind you how many people you just killed? A nagging voice at the back of his head said, sending a pang of guilt through him. You're not as innocent as you think.

Seeing the woman pull out a knife, he gave a small sigh. Really? More violence? He did his best to stand between the pirate 'captain' and the young woman. "I think both of you need to think before you speak." He said, more like a scolding mother than anything. That's who he was: strong, capable, and way too annoyingly goody-goody. Why would they even consider dragging him along?

One look down at his scarlet sleeve answered all the questions he may have had. What had originally been a nice creme colored shirt was absolutely ruined, and carried the stench of death along with it. All in all, even with his cautious words of warning he must have seemed rather terrifying. It didn't help that he still had his sword in his off hand, either.

"I mean, I think we can prove a more useful asset to each other alive, is all." It was half mumbled as he became more withdrawn, but it was still audible thankfully. Running a hand through his hair he pulled his lips into a thin line, trying to figure out exactly what to do.

He should have walked away, or just let them kill each other, but he felt obliged to stay and obliged to try and help them work it out. Damn my good nature. A little of his rage from battle had seeped into his thoughts, and it took him a second to calm down. The last thing he wanted was to be as irrational as everybody else here.

From the doorframe Amma watched the entire scene unfold. Her eyes were immense as she realized that, despite all the unlikelihood, the two succeeded over the many. That and multiplied into four while she wasn't looking. Not making a sound (it's not as if she could even if she wanted to) she simply stared, not trying to hide but certainly not making herself known. They were all strangers, even the ragdoll. After she saw him kill so many, she wasn't even comfortable around him.

No, siree. She would play it safe. Stay back and play the observer. See how events unfolded. Then she would go get her bag, with all her belongings in it. Her speech cards, her journal full of all her thoughts, memories and discoveries, her clothes, her money. If it wasn't taken.

That thought immediately sent her moving. Nobody was taking her stuff. She didn't want to scrounge that money again, to buy those cards again, and write every little important word or phrase on it again. She didn't want to lose her detailed recordings of events, and she sure as hell wasn't going to be wearing this same pair of clothes every day. Sure she only had one change, but she would not lose it to some mismatched group of murderers.

Her flat shoes padded softly against the ground, and she was welcomed once again with the warm embrace of the tavern. Not as warm now that the windows were broken in, but warm enough compared to outside to stop her rampant shivering. Avoiding eye contact but still watching each of the four warily, she picked up her knife from the corpse of one of the pirates the other ragdoll had killed, then, brandishing it so as to alert them to her having defenses, she made her way to her bag.

Quietly, oh so quietly. She would not be noticed. They would just ignore her and let her go away, right? Of course they would! Why would they pay attention to her? She was useless, boring, unimportant.

She quickly snatched her bag and, just as slowly, attempted to make her way out without being noticed.

(( D: I sorry we didn't wait for you~ ;__; and... even more sorry that I don't have the time to post today. /crais in corniner. I've got a chemisty assignment due tomorrow and, while I've only got two problems left, I think that chemistry is the last thing I'll be able to think about before going to bed. D: Again, I'm really sorry, I'll either edit Basil's part into this post or post with him tomorrow. Or, if you'd like me to quit only posting ooc every now and again, let me know and I'll send you a pm, Bleak, to let you know what's going on. I can still keep up with it, just... Not tonight. I'm really sorry.))

(( Sorry about that. I was trying to be good though. I thought to stop rping for a while, if that matters in anyway. Also yeah for more digimon fans *gives high five to Snacky*))

Nero just barely caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his bad eye and instinctively jumped away. Only after he had already shyed away did he see that it was no more then some random theft. No, it wasn't just a random theft, he realized. It was the same one he sprung board off from earlier. "Well its good to know she wasn't hurt by me stepping on her." he thought to himself as he started to come to realization on what had just happened.

As Basil went off after the thief, Nero stood dumb struck and staring at the surrounding area. Then barely managed to stammer out, "Did did... Did I... Do this...?" But before the only guy that was left in the Tavern could answer, two more people had come in. One seeming vary angry at the one that they were tailing.

When Basil said Nero's name he nearly jumped out of his skin. And stood wide eyed and staring at the hand that Basil had offered out to him. Nero blinked a couple of times and had his hand in mid air, as though pondering on weather or not to take this Basil person's hand. All he could think at the moment was, "How does he know my name?!"

Before Nero could react the mad woman started yelling at this seemingly nice enough gentlemen. Then to add to the confusion in came the bystander to add his since worth.

Shacking away the dumb look on his face as he silently blinked at the three of them for a while as they tried to 'reason' with each other. "I don't believe that well work out." Nero said out loud though he himself seemed to not have even realized it, for he was still observing the surrounding area.

Then he heard a slight squeaking noise and immediately averted his attention in that direction. It was the doll from earlier the one that he saw right before passing out. "Perhaps she'll know what happened here, since she must of been here when it started." Nero thought to himself as he started to wander off in her direction. He either didn't realize how she was holding her knife or he didn't care for he still made his way over there even after she had brandished it.

"Do you know what happened here?" He whispered to her. "It looks like a mad person went threw here." He then added, seeming to be entirely on aware of the situation or the event that took place.

((Wow sorry this took me so long to make out. I lost track of what train I was going to jump on with this character and had a mess of what was going on. Also its still kind of short))

The (hopefully) soon to be pirate ‘captain’ immediately withdrew his hand from the confused looking Nero as soon as he heard the woman storm into the bar. She threw down the money at his feet and started complaining that he had given her a few gold coins. What was her problem? Obviously, if you steal money, you need money, right? Unless you’re just a whore for thrills, he thought. Then you’ll steal anything just for the ‘fun’ of it. If you can even call that fun…

Basil said the first thing that came into his head.
“Where the fuck does a piece of shit like you get off calling me trash?” He glared down at her. Sure, she was glaring back, but he wasn’t fazed.
“I let you off easy, bitch. Just be glad you’re not a man. I would have beat the shit out of you just a few seconds ago.”
He slowly crouched down, picking up his sword and the pieces of gold that were now at his feet.
“And now you’re challenging me? Are you stupid?” He was watching her the whole time, too. She’d probably charge the minute he blinked or something distracted his attention from her.

But, then the Navy guy stepped in. Basil agreed with what he was saying. (Even though he didn't really say that much. The guy was only trying to diffuse the situation.) He didn’t really want to hurt a woman. Even if she did have it coming, he would feel bad about it. He swung an arm up on the shoulder of Garret’s non-bleeding arm and lightly leaned against the other man. He crossed his legs at the ankle and rested his other hand on the sword’s hilt (having the tip of the sword on the ground). ((**))

“See, we should listen to this guy. We wouldn’t want you’re pretty little face to have any more scratches, now, would we? And you wouldn’t want to make me do anything that the either of us would regret, would you?”
Basil meant that he may end up killing her, though realized after he said this that it could be taken as a threat to rape her. He really hoped that she wouldn’t take it like that.
Sure, pirates rape all the time, but Basil harbors special feelings of hatred towards that crime. He tried to ignore that the it could have been taken the wrong way, but it showed on his face that something had seriously bothered him.

“So, will you put up your dagger and get out of here? Or will you stay and fight?” He watched the woman carefully, waiting for her to move in any direction, and preparing himself for whatever fight would come (or not even happen). Basil really didn’t think the girl would back down, but was really hoping that she would. Killing all those men (if you could even call them that) was one thing, but killing a woman (even if she does have a knife and is about ready to kill you for giving her money. Come on. GIVING her money) is different. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth for months. God doesn’t forgive people who kill women and children. Basil was sure of this.


((**Does this description make sense? D: If it doesn't, I could try to explain it again or do a little sketch to show what I mean...?))

Eleanor kept her peace as Basil shot his mouth off a little more. Her anger cooled considerably as she listened to the Navy man speak his few words. They made sense and she again thought about simply backing down and letting this drop. But now it had become a matter of pride. Ele had few things left, so she wasn't going to let something a precious as her pride go without a hell of a fight.

She let her arm, holding the knife, fall to her side and looked at Basil coldly over the rim of her glasses. "So I guess you really don't get it after all. And here I thought.." she chuckled, although there didn't seem to be anything funny. "Oh well. Thats what I get for expecting something from a pirate. Just disappointment." Ele shook her head and laughed again, the sound grating on the ears of those listening. She rocked back on her heels, resting her free hand on her hip.

"Scratch my pretty face, will you?" Eleanor ran one finger along the scar that marred the left side of her face, following the trail from her cheekbone, down her neck and disappearing under her shirt. " 'Fraid your a bit late for that." she commented dryly, pushing her glasses farther back on her nose. Really, Ele had expected Basil to understand about pride. He certainly seemed to have enough for ten men. But maybe that wasn't pride so much as it was cockiness. He was certainly cocky enough for twice as many men. But what ever. Eleanor had really left herself open for that little let down. She shrugged, mentally letting go, really, she'd thought she was a better judge of character then that.

"Although," Ele looked Basil in the eye, a feral grin stretching her lips, "I might just take your eye if your not careful." She crouched and sprinted forward, the movement faster then lightening. Eleanor tried to come at him from the Navy's side so he couldn't slash at her with his sword without taking his friend down with her. Aiming her own blade at his gut, Ele drove her arm out and up, trying to gut him from groin to sternum.

Basil had been watching her very carefully and didn't let his guard down for a moment. When she rushed forward, he jumped back, barely "dodging" the strike. the knife cut through his shirt and a thin line of blood curved up his stomach and chest. The shirt opened up like a jacket and showed off all the muscles he was so proud of. It's not something he ever bragged about, though. He was slightly embarrassed, to tell the truth. Especially in this situation. Having his chest and stomach showing in front of both the Navy guy and the crazy bitch made him feel a little bit more than uncomfortable.

"Scratch up more!" He said defensively, "I said scratch up more!" He was fretting over details...? Obviously he didn't know what to say... Or do for that matter.

All Basil did was dodge and block. He would start to parry, but then pull back.
"Comon, stop it already! I don't want to hurt you!" This wasn't a lie at all. Basil, who loved to fight more than anything in the world had absolutely no interest in trying his sword against this woman. She certainly was interesting, though. He ended up getting scratched quite a bit, nothing that wouldn't heal quickly enough and he managed to dodge anything that would cause death. He wasn't sure if anything would be deep enough to leave a scar, but he already had so many of those that he hardly could remember what a few of them were from.

Oddly enough, while she attacked and Basil dodged, he thought that he might be forming a bit of a crush on this crazy proud thief lady.... Basil smiled that devilish and crazy grin of his before saying, "Join me!"

It didn't make any sense. Not even to him. But, he knew that she'd be a great asset to his little one man crew. Well, maybe two, but Nero had looked so confused when he had offered him a hand shake and said it was nice to meet him. No, Basil wanted this girl and that Navy guy. She was a decent fighter, Basil didn't get to see too much of what Garret did, but he made it through that room of money hungry pirates with (from what Basil knew) only a scratch on his arm. These two would be good.

"We'll kick pirate ass, take their jewels, and then use the money to buy off corrupt officers so we can get them kicked out of the Navy! It's a great idea, right? Then whatever's left over gets split evenly between the three of us! Or, not so evenly. I wouldn't mind not getting as much gold if I got to fight."

Basil was trying very hard to get two birds with one stone: the (hopefully) moral Navy guy would go for getting corruption out of his government and the girl would (hopefully) go for getting extra money. Especially if it was split unevenly in her favor, right? Win-win-win situation, right?

(I should by all reason be in bed right now, considering how it's 1 and I have to get up at 6 to go to Psychology. However, I'd rather drive half an hour to learn about brain parts when I'm half-dead than I would let you guys make a million more posts without me. xD

Is that bad?)

Amma was surprised as Nero came up to her conversing. He looked surprised, and very, very confused. Without even being aware of it she pulled herself slightly away from the murderer. Whether or not he could remember what he did - who was to say he wasn't lying? - the deed was still done, and she wasn't one to endanger herself for no reason.

And yet, he seemed to baffled. She pointed to her throat, then her mouth and shook her head, hoping to signify that she couldn't speak. Still holding her knife in a threatening manner, she ruffled through her bag and pulled out three cards. Her expression was one of frustration as she realized that there was no way she was going to be able to communicate this properly even with the cards she was about to show him.

Grabbing his arm and dragging him along her to one of the few tables still standing, she placed a sheet of paper on it (one of the few she had left that were blank), as well as her quill and ink, and began to write. After only a few seconds her quick penmanship was complete, and she moved her arms away from it for the fellow ragdoll to see.

'You killed the pirates, that woman started a bar fight, the man made it a slaughterhouse and now they're all dead.'

It was quick, concise and accurate. Looking up towards Nero, wishing that her mysteriously soulless eyes could converse sincerity, she simply had to settle with a dead serious look and a small shrug. What could she do? She was simply an observer. A speechless observer.

Garret wasn't paying attention to Nero or his mysterious rantings, but rather those of the two people about to kill each other. He was doing his best to come up with an excuse to keep Basil and Eleanor from fighting, but found himself unable to invent a good enough argument. Perhaps if given enough time he could have, but they apparently would have none of it.

As she charged at the 'captain' Garret sighed, crossing his arms and looking like a concerned mother. What were they, children? The discipline of the navy had been his life, and so seeing people quite so...uncoordinated didn't quite make sense to him. Where was the order, the respect, the sensibility, the frugality?

Nowhere to be found, and I'm most likely stuck with this. He thought, answering his own question. Some side of him wanted to just roll with it and let himself free like the others, but not now. His habits ran deep, and it would be hard to fight it off. With horror he realized that, by thinking this, he knew he would eventually cast off what he saw as sanity for this mercilless, nonsensical-

-did he say to kick corrupt officers out of the navy?

That was all it took to sell Garret to the crowd. All too often he had seen his fellow officers do things he knew to be wrong, but feared to bring to light in case the populous began to side with pirates rather than their protectors. But if he could somehow do his job and still remove those crooked men of power, he would be able to sleep at night effortlessly.

A smile came on his face against his will and, without thinking, he said, "Where can I sign on?"

It looked like he was changing a bit already.

(I'm thinking of, somewhere along the line, killing off Amma. Not immediately, but I just don't feel like she's fitting in with the others, and I'm not having as much fun with her as I am with Garret. Unless someone has plans for her in the future, I'll just off her when the time is right. Any complaints?)

Rumours that there was a fight in the tavern? That's what Becca had been hearing, and that was what brought the girl to the door of the tavern to investigate.

The last thing she needed was her mother in here while a fight broke out.

The woman was usually out of her mind with drink anyway, and could wind up getting in a load of trouble. But when Becca stepped through the doorway and peered around, there was no sign of her mother there. A lot of other chaos to be sure, but her mother was absent from it.

Her mother was safe.

Well, that was a good thing, at least. That was a -very- good thing. But...the way the tables were overturned, the way the tables were looking...

Something seemed eerily familiar.

Standing essentially in the doorway was a young lady no more than fifteen years old. Standing at five foot four, she was neither unusually small nor noteably tall. Her black hair was long and unbound, falling past her waist and staying mostly untangled simply by virtue of the sheer length of it. The only really noteable feature about her was her eyes, a deep and striking shade of cobalt blue. But they were hidden behind very thick glasses--likely she would be all but blind if something were to happen to the battered-looking frames she wore.

Most of her looked battered, actually. Time had taken its toll on her clothes--they were carefully mended in each place, but the simple dress and functional leather shoes she wore were definitely showing their age. Same had the long cloth bag tied to her belt, and that was what she was fishing through at the moment, looking through its contents.

She pulled out a few carefully rolled pieces of paper, and finally managed to pull out the one she was looking for, unrolling it and looking at it in comparison to the tavern as she saw it now.

Overturned tables, two people fighting... Yes, even the -people- were, for the moment, =exactly= as she had drawn them several days ago. Of course, once she'd spread it out, -anyone- could see what it was she'd been drawing. And the carefully detailed sketch would -have- to have taken hours to do, so...how had she captured the tables -exactly- as they had fallen so recently?

Eleanor stopped her wild attacking as Basil started to yell how he didn't want to hurt her. This guy was thick as a post. If a lady tries to cut out your blasted eyes, wouldn't the last thing she'd want to hear be something chivalrous like that? It got Ele to stop, although she scowled darkly at him while he kept talking.

Steal pirate gold and jewels, eh? Eleanor's expression changed from murderous to merely extremely pissed off and thoughtful. She kept her knife in hand and crossed her arms. It was her default pose for when she was thinking hard on something. It sounded too good to be true, so of course it was. Going to sea wasn't the big threat, even though Ele couldn't swim worth beans. But being lumped in together with this lunatic was going to catch them some serious heat, probably sooner then later. After a few moments, Eleanor dismissed this as well with a small shrug and roll of her eyes. She'd evaded the Navy scum for nearly all her life. She would keep out of their clutches for many years more.

Another little thought struck her. She wouldn't get the tempting bag of gold that sat in front of her, just begging to be stolen. But that didn't mean she wouldn't get it later. It was obvious that Ele wasn't able to land a decisive blow on Basil even though she was going all out. He was much faster then she'd estimated. His torn shirt highlighted why too. Ele snapped her eyes away to stare at the wall. Her glare deepened but she managed to keep herself from blushing. So getting the gold in a head on confrontation was out. Oh well, she could always just get it when he was asleep or something.

"Fine. I'm in too." Eleanor growled out. She didn't offer a hand and gave him a look that said, 'try it and you'll loose it'. The sound of the door opening and closing behind her, made Ele turn. Maybe another bevy of water front drunks, come to try and avenge their brothers? But no, it was just an ill dressed, bespectacled little girl. Not too odd,considering the types of whores that wandered the streets, but Eleanor still raised an eyebrow. Surely even a prostitute would avoid this place because of the blood and fighting, so recently ceased. "Hey! Girl!" She called over, turning half-way round to get a better look at the young culprit. She was unrolling pieces of paper on one of the few standing tables. It couldn't have been wanted posters, Eleanor told herself. She'd been much too careful to get one for herself and neither of the two men behind her seemed like a big enough threat on their own to warrant one. At least not yet. "What are you doing in here? You should get home to your mother!" Ele started to walk over to the girl with the intention of tossing her out so she could make her way home.

Lei Tong enjoyed traveling, especially by ship, except for weeks like this week. He had been en-route, and then the ship had been caught in a storm. Not even a big storm, but by some dumb luck, one of the masts had been damaged anyway, and the ship had just spent the last two days limping into this port to make repairs. Fortunately, the old man was on no particular schedule, but this place was still cold. Even before arthritis had started to set in to the firework maker's knees and back, he had never been particularly fond of the cold.

Once he had unloaded his small rolling cart of supplies and belongings, Lei Tong sniffled and dug his wool cloak out of one of the locked trunks. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and blew warm air between his palms before securing the lock again, then started into town, pushing the cart ahead of him. The sounds of excitement (probably a fight) led the man to one particular tavern; as he arrived, he caught sight of a girl slipping in through the doorway and observed that, at least for the moment, the commotion seemed to have calmed.

Activity generally meant sailors, which naturally meant ships, and so he hoped he would be able to find a ship with which to catch a ride to at least a warmer locale. However ... as he bumped his cart carefully over the door's threshold and into the establishment and he caught sight of blood and upset tables, Lei Tong hoped that his desire for a reputable ride was not asking too much. He glanced around until he caught sight of the young girl he had seen on the way in, and edged his cart along the wall so he could at least keep an eye on her. He had to wonder what one so young was doing here, and figured if violence erupted here again, then perhaps he could offer what strength he had to keep the young lady from ending up like the unfortunate fellows draped over the upset tables.

At the same time, though, the fireworks maker also noticed that there seemed to be a makeshift crew forming for some vessel or another among the patrons still standing. Lei Tong raised an eyebrow, then pulled his folding fan out from where it had been tucked behind his sash. With the sound of quickly scraping metal, he flicked the fan open and signaled to the nearest waitress; fortunately two of the somewhat hassled-looking ladies had taken refuge near the door, and one scurried to the old man's side.

"A pint of hot cider, to warm these old bones, if you please, ma'am," he told her, giving her a quick smile and a wink before returning his attention to the coalescing crew.

As he waited for his drink, he watched them a moment longer, then called out, "Might I ask where you folk are headed? And if you may have room for an old man to join you a bit of the way?"

Basil was actually very surprised when both Ele and Garret said that they would join. Truthfully, he hadn't thought that either of them would go for it. He saw the other girl come in, but Ele had already gone to talk with her and take care of whatever it was.
So, Basil decided to talk with Garret and possibly the two dolls on the other end of the room. But, maybe not Nero. There was something off about that doll... Well, maybe there was just something off about all dolls. Basil hadn't met enough of them to really know.

Right now, though, Basil wanted to talk with Garret, he sheathed his sword for the time being and then tried to strike up a conversation,
"I'm not exactly sure how we'll pull this off yet, though. And how to get a ship is an entirely new problem, and--" He was cut off by the old man.

"Might I ask where you folk are headed? And if you may have room for an old man to join you a bit of the way?"

For a moment, you could see in his expression that he was thinking, but then Basil smirked. He wanting to say that they were headed straight for GLORY! But managed to hold that comment back. Instead he shrugged,
"That's undecided as of yet."
He walked over towards the old man, nonchalantly saying that,
"We've got room if you can work."

But, instead of watching the old man he was supposed to be speaking to, or the dolls on the other end of the room, or even Ele who had just tried to steal his wallet, Basil was staring at the old man's cart. There was a lot of stuff there and it smelled like gunpowder. How strange!

"What is all this stuff?" He asked, clearly interested.

((I like Amma. D: But, if it really does look like we can't go anywhere with the character, then I guess she should be written out.... When Basil gets a chance, I know he'll go over and talk to her, though. I think he's going to try and get everyone in the room to join him... If he thinks they'll be useful, that is. And Amma could be a good cook...? Or something. I dunno, but since she can't talk, I'm sure he'll be at least curiuos about her.))

Nero seeing that the doll seemed frighted of him at first stepped away when she shied back from his presence. He then looked at her with confusion written all over his face. "Why is she not saying any thing." Nero thought nervously to himself as he began to fidget with his hands. Then looking a bit more hopeful as she rummaged threw some sort of bag as near as Nero could tell. He stood and watched her waiting to see what she would pull out of it.

"What?" Nero questioned as she lead him to the table and began to write. Luckily Nero knew how to read, but not vary well and not vary many of the words looked to failure to him. But then he recognized three of them, 'you,' 'killed,' and 'dead.' Nero then looked back up to the dolls stoic seeming eyes, his own starting to get a little misty. Then while bracing himself on the table with one hand he reached down with the other and woozily picked up one of the chairs. After setting it up right he then shakingly set himself down on it. "Why?" Nero called out to the sky as if asking the heavens for an answer.

He sat there quietly sulking to himself not even realizing the flow of new faces coming into the tavern.

(( I too think you should keep her around. I don't want to be a lone doll.))

The paper was too small to be a poster, just big enough for her to have drawn the scene on, really. Once she'd made sure that she was indeed seeing the same thing in the room that she had Seen in her vision, she drew out a burned stick and carefully drew a star in one of the corners.

The fight going on in the main part of the room wasn't bothering her--she -knew- when she was to die, so why would she worry about it coming any sooner? She would escape death here, because it would be coming soon enough anyway. She sighed softly and looked up, only to see one of the people from the fight approaching her.

She left her paper, abandoned and unfurled on the table for the world to see as she turned to properly face the...man? She had to make the guess randomly, since it could have gone either way. But what sort of respectable lady would wear a man's clothing?

A ragdoll, maybe, if the vivid scars were anything to go by. But Becca didn't shudder, certainly not frightened in the slightest. Nothing was frightening, not any more. Well. Dying was frightening, but...that was something else again, now wasn't it?

That man (for she assumed Eleanor was a man) must not have known her, must not have known her mother--otherwise it would likely have been an easy why Becca had at least initially come to the tavern.

"Get home to my mother? You must not know her, sir. I'll be more likely to find her waiting here than going home."

She moved out of the old man's way as he came in--she hadn't gotten very far from the door as yet, so when he rolled in his cart she adjusted herself to make sure he had the room he needed. He looked strange, he looked wild, he looked -exotic-, and she couldn't help but stare.

Someone so strange, surely she would have forseen? She started looking through the rolled papers in the bag tied to her waist. ((OOC Asahi, rather than me godmoding Lei Tong and auto finding a picture, would you tell us in your next post if she finds a drawing of him? I'm fine either way. :) ))

"Work?" the firework maker repeated, one brow lifting momentarily. He set one hand on the top compartment of his cart, hard enough to make a sound, but not a loud or angry one. "You think I push this thing around for fun?"

He then touched his fingertips to his chest and smiled, adding, "This old man is hardly a freeloader, I promise you that. Maybe I cannot do the work of one like you, but these certainly will not be idle hands."

The cider did not take long to warm, though (perhaps longer for the waitress to weave her way around the upset tables than to pour and heat the drink), and Lei Tong snapped his fan shut before digging coins out of his pockets to pay for the steaming mug. When the payment had been made, he accepted it in both hands, allowing the fan to dangle from its long cord from his sash, and blew a bit of the steam away before taking a sip.

As he worked on the cider, enjoying both the taste of the beverage as well as the warmth it restored to his fingers, he kept quiet but also spared the occasional glance at Basil, to see if his potential ride and temporary employer had anything else to add. After a moment, he moved over to the table where the small girl was shuffling through papers, though, since it was close by and he was curious about what was on the pages.

Though he was hardly stealthy about it, Lei Tong cast furtive glances down at the drawings, and frowned a little as his eyes then returned to the scattering of tables around the room. The layout appeared near identical. And he could see his cart, as well, there against the wall. So that would mean the figure nearby, standing at the table, was supposed to be ...

Lei Tong shivered, resisting the overwhelming urge to look over his shoulder, and instead took another long drink of cider. After he swallowed it, he rubbed the back of one hand against his mouth, then he asked the girl, "Ah, did you draw these yourself?"

Basil was going to say more, but then the old guy wandered off. He frowned, but then called after him, "I don't have a ship yet, old man, but if you want, you'll be welcome aboard." He was grining, of course.

Basil then turned to go back and talk with Garret. He reached out his hand, intending to shake, and said, "We haven't really introduced ourselves yet. I'm Basil."

((I'm wondering if I should have even posted this... It's so short. D: ))

((When in doubt, post it. It can't really hurt anything? ))

Eleanor listened calmly to the young girls explanation. Right up until she called her 'sir'. Ele's expression darkened, but a smile spread over her cheeks. "Little brat..." She growled, unintentionally sounding more masculine. "What do you mean by 'sir', huh? I'm a woman!" Eleanor's voice rose in pitch rapidly as she yelled. Reaching out she grabbed ahold of one of the young girl's cheeks between her thumb and the knuckle of her pointer finger. The pinching hurt, but Eleanor had no business pulling. She did it, just to make herself feel better.

"And pay attention when your talking to your betters! Don't just let your little mind wander off!" Ele dragged the girl closer and peeked into her bag full of drawings while she lectured. It was stuffed almost full of folded and rolled up papers. Some she could see, one in particular caught Eleanor's attention.

She only saw it for a second, but it was an almost exact replica of a scene she had seen that very morning. Two stall keepers had gotten into an argument, over what Eleanor didn't care. But the two figures in the sketch where frozen in their poses. It sent a chill up her spine. It could have been any pair of shop keepers, but something told Eleanor that no, those two where the ones she had seen. The next thing she knew, razor sharp pain exploded over the wrist that still held the girl as an even younger boy exploded from the door to latch his teeth into her arm.

Alex had really seen quiet enough by the time he'd decided to make his grand entrance. He'd been lurking in the deep shadows just outside the light, cast on the street by the wide open doors of the tavern. He knew he would be in major trouble from Becca, but he couldn't very well stand by and let her get picked on by some scary scarred guy! Alex wasn't even supposed to be out, he was grounded, no if's, and's, or buts about it. He thought it was all stupid of course, get in one little fight and you can never live it down.

Whatever. It was obviously a good idea that he'd tailed Becca tonight. Alex even thought he'd looked pretty cool saving her like he did. Glasses bumping against his chest as his teeth connected satisfyingly with the crazy weirdo's wrist. The copper taste of blood welled in his mouth. "Ow! Sonofabitch!" the weird guy screamed, grabbing a painful fistful of Alexander's messy dark hair. His grey eyes closed shut with a snap as he was ripped off and then thrown face first to the floor.

"Fuck that hurt!" Eleanor held a hand against new bite marks that adorned her skin. She wouldn't have thought it would hurt so bad. Did that dumb little kid have razors for teeth or something!? "What was that for!" She screeched, advancing on the cur, one arm raised to lay some justice on his dirty head. "That was for hurting my sister!" He yelled back, one hand holding his freely bleeding and probably broken nose.

Becca looked over at Lei Tong as he spoke, then back down onto the paper he had been looking at. Ahh, he was already -there-. She started to say something, but then the one that had spoken to her before shouted so angrily and reached forward to grab her face. She flinched, to be sure, but she didn't fight back. She didn't -dare- fight back, lest it bring the woman's wrath upon her.

But when Alex burst in to the tavern, she cried out immediately, throwing her arm to the side not to stop the little terror but to protect him from Eleanor. But she didn't move fast enough, hadn't been warned by her vision that she needed to move early. Though Eleanor's attack on Alex meant Becca was now free.

She whirled around to stand between the two of them, wrapping her arms around Alex and turning her back on Eleanor to shield him with her body from any blows that might rain down on them.

"Please no! Don't hurt him, he's only a child...I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you somehow..."

Later, when they were home and safe perhaps, she would have words with Alex about going against her when she told him he was grounded. About pulling such a stunt. About a -lot- of things, but...that would wait. She had to make sure he was -safe- first.

While everybody was busy introducing each other and meeting each other, Garret stood in thought. Already it seemed he was on the brunt end of this deal - he had been the one forced to fight alongside Basil in the chaos, only to be snubbed as new people distracted the man - and he doubted it was going to get much better. The ambitious 'captain' appeared to enjoy the new and exciting as much as a child did something sparkly: it was his addiction, and he would abandon safety and sanity just for it.

Safety and sanity in this case meaning the naval officer - ex naval officer, really. Already he was thinking about how quickly he would become a fugitive after going MIA - who felt he was going to become the 'mother' of this group. Shaking his head and letting out a heavy sigh he tried to take these thoughts off his mind and make the best of things. He was out doing what he always wanted to do! He was going to get rid of corruption without fear of going against orders, doing what he had always felt was right. So why did it feel so simultaneously wrong?

When the easily distracted Basil finally brought his attention to Garret again, a silly thought crossed his mind: Now he talks to me, I see. Even in his head it was dry, scolding and very maternal. Normally he didn't realize just how over-the-top his parenting behavior could be, but in this case he noticed it. He hoped to God that Basil was going to get that trait out of him, as doubtful as it was.

There was a second's hesitation in shaking Basil's hand, but it went away quickly enough and he gave a firm, confident handshake. (A man, in Garret's mind, was easily judged by his handshake.) "I gathered that when you introduced yourself around. I'm Garret." He gave his best roguish grin, but it came out as the same concerned, loving sort of smile he always gave much to his disappointment. "I guess you can tell my occupation?"

As much as he tried to hide himself, most of the men in Greyhelm could spot a navyman anywhere. They were scoundrels and ruffians, so they were very familiar with the stances, speech patterns and behaviors the lawmen were prone to. They wouldn't act as long as he didn't represent himself as what he was, but if anybody saw the tattoo on the back of his thigh (which, as with all naval officers, was his identification number: 566B in this case) there was a good chance they would kill him on the spot. As long as he just seemed a navy man he would be fine, but if it were made clear he was doomed. Amongst this group of 'comrades' he felt his life not in danger by making it official.

"You've got quite a patchwork party growing." He noted, unable to hide the small tinge of envy in his voice. It had been less than half an hour since Basil had announced his decision to make a ship and crew, and already the boat could easily be considered full-up. Lucky bastard.

Amma put a comforting hand on Nero's shoulder (still with the knife in reach: a girl can never be too careful) and gave him a sympathetic look. Once more she was stuck in a situation where words could mean so much more. She did her best to hide her frustration at her inability to express her pity, and instead decided to settle with just giving him a long look. It probably seemed a bit unsettling when you considered her eyes, but he would understand.

The instant Lei Tong entered the building her eyes snapped up, and as soon as she laid eyes on him she backed away from the fellow ragdoll. There was something about the man she just didn't like...

Gunpowder. It was the smell of gunpowder.

Gunpowder was fine with guns, but she could tell immediately he had no intentions on making a clockwork pistol. That old, innocent looking man could very easily make an explosion, and explosions killed all in their path without mercy. By god, if a single spark hit that cart who knew what could happen? She could very well be hit by a wall of flame! Or at least hit by debris!

If she could have, she would have left. Unfortunately the exit was blocked by none other than the man with the cart, and without speech she wasn't going to be able to kick him out. After a second she fished out a single card and walked over very, very cautiously, setting it gingerly near the old man and his cart, biting her lower lip nervously. After she set it down she ran away as fast as she could to the other edge of the tavern, obviously unsettled. Amma was a girl to save her own hide, and she wouldn't accept herself being endangered by careless old men.

On the card, in bold, cursive handwriting were two words:

'Get out!'

She felt the message was very clear.


(I'm sorry it took me so long, luvvies! D:
When we need to throw in a villain, gimme a heads up and I'll gladly play one for us. Mehehehe. x3

also: I love Amma again now. xD Anybody who is quite so matter-of-fact as to just be all "gtfo" for no apparent reason earns a special place in my heart.)

Eleanor's hand stopped in mid air. Nothing took the wind out of her sails faster then making her feel bad. And looking down at the girl, shielding her vile little pet with her body, made Ele feel exactly like a bully. She scratched at the back of her head before letting her hand fall entirely.

Alex kept glaring at her from between his sister's protective arms. 'This isn't over yet, brat.' Eleanor thought, trading harsh look for harsh look. "Well, if your now in my debt..." Ele smiled to herself, ideas of how she could use this new service to her advantage dancing round her head. She might not have enjoyed being a bully, but she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity for some free child labor. "I'm sure I can find something for the two of you to do." She smiled down at the cowering pair.

Alexander pushed away from Becca and stood. His nose had stopped it's bleeding but the whole front of his shirt was awash in blood. It looked like it wasn't the first such stain either. Ele's sharp eyes picked out half healed bruises and scrapes all over the small body. Alex was shaking, pretty badly. But it was hard to tell if he was scared or very very angry. "Don't think you can make my sister do anything!" He shouted, only an inch away from stamping his foot. "Oh?" Eleanor loomed over him, smiling wolfishly. "And what makes you think you have any say, brat?" She asked. Alex looked stuck for a moment, then his lips pulled back, showing slightly crooked teeth in a fiercely triumphant smile. "I was the one that bit you! I'll do everything!" He looked smug.

Lei Tong stepped back, his brows first lifting in surprise, then drawing together with concern, as fisticuffs began anew. After sipping his steaming mug of cider down a little (for fear that someone might bump into him and spill some of the drink), he fumbled for his metal fan, just in case. Much as he was loathe to see the children end up like the bodies draped over a few of the tables, the firework maker knew he was hardly the man to break up a physical altercation. He opened his mouth to caution the youngsters to settle down, but then closed it again without saying a word; this place was not as safe as many he had been.

He turned his attention back to Basil long enough to tell him, "When you get one, I will be there to do what I can in return for the ride." The old man was not about to interrupt further when the other sailor-looking fellow went to talk to him, and it was about that time that the little ragdoll girl delivered the card.

Sparing a moment to take another drink of warm cider, Lei Tong closed his glass eye and leaned down to get a good look at the writing - the cursive was bold, and easy enough to read, and the meaning could not have been clearer. As for why, though, the old man could only guess. Of course he was a bit worried for his safety in this decidedly lawless town, though the weather alone would have been enough to wear down the elder's health if he was not careful; was the girl trying to warn him? Concerned for his safety?

Though, as he followed her with his eyes while she moved away between the others in the room, Lei Tong was not so sure she was worried about him....

The old man sniffed as he felt his nose start to run, and rubbed it with the back of a wrist before finishing off his cider. Well, he would just have to keep his eyes open moreso than ever. And perhaps not just for the ones who looked obviously like pirates.

Once the fireworks maker had drained the mug, he set it down on the corner of the nearest table, then wheeled his cart slowly and carefully towards Basil and the other man with him.

"You say you still need a ship, sir?" he inquried when he could slip appropriately into the conversation between the two younger men. "I would offer one if I had one, but the one that brought me here is in no shape to sail. There looked to be a few others in fine shape, though, if I might be of any help to find the captain of one of those vessels for you to speak with?"

Becca gave Alex a look. One that most parents had perfected as 'the look', that frequently brought unruly children to heel. Why hadn't it been working lately? The little boy had been hell-bent on causing a ruckus as of late and she couldn't figure out why.

She was going to die soon, if her visions were right. She wanted nothing more than to be able to keep her head down, settle in, and have as much peace as she could before the inevitable came. And Alex was determined to not let her do that, to keep her busy and on her toes sorting out his messes and trying to get things in order so he would be taken care of when she died.

Because their mother certainly wouldn't do it.

The bruises on Alex's body were mirrored on Becca's, though the girl had taken great pains to make sure as much of herself was covered as possible. She didn't like to advertise what went on at their home, didn't want people asking too many questions.

She watched Eleanor carefully, whimpering a little bit. When Alex spoke up so defiantly, she tried to get her hand over his mouth, afraid it might provoke the woman into doing something truly drastic. "No, Alex. You've still got growing up to do, I'll handle the hard work till you're bigger..."

It hurt when his sweet, caring older sister gave him that look. It made Alex want to crawl back home and dig himself a nice deep hole. But he was tired of being protected! He knew painfully well just how small he was. The kids on their street wouldn't let him forget it, not even for a second. And the older he got the more he'd come to dread his sister's protection, almost as much as he appreciated it. Only cowardly men hid behind a woman's skirts. Unfortunately, Alex wasn't up to the point where he could bite Becca's hand that she's clasped over his mouth. All he could do now was wriggle and make much muffled curses.

Eleanor watched the little display of family relations with the expression of some one watching a half way decent comedy routine. The girl, Becca she'd been called, must have been a mite stronger then she looked. She was holding down her little brother fairly easily despite his frequent and heartfelt attempts at freedom.

"You won't have to worry. There will be plenty to do for both of you. I can assure you." She smiled. For a moment Eleanor wondered if her face muscles could get sore. She couldn't remember smiling this much in a very long time. "And I'm afraid I don't have all the time in the world anymore to make the pair of you suffer as you should." She meant it all in jest, but had added the last part, mostly out of spite. It was extremely satisfying to see the little bugger's eyes go big as saucers while he immediately stilled in his sister's protective, and restricting grasp.