Liver Licking Boot Lovers
So, here we are the chapter I wrote like third, and here you go. By the way, gramaticly is probably not a word, but what the hell I think it is amusing. So, today I have to go write chapter 6 (which is Chapter 6 I promise). Of course, I don't quite know what is going to happen next. Currently if I get a random idea and it works, it is getting slipped into the story (hence the Liver Licking Boot Lovers).
Also, this is as rough can be, rougher in fact then a crew of Sky Pirates, in there red and gold air ship of Awesomeness!
So here it is
Chapter 5: The Sky Pirate Captain And his employer
Captain Beauregard walked up and down his mismatched crew above the city of London. “You lost Christian Craymore?” his crew each looked sheepish, they each wore the uniform for the Firebird, the heavy leathers, with the crimson skull and crossbones the traditional sign of piracy in all the years. Beauregard was a tall man dressed in a suit of Leather with a pair of bronze goggles on his head and a massive triangular top hat. His heavy burly figure slammed up down looking at his crew now three short all thanks to a botched kidnapping of two people. “You sorry excuse for liver licking boot lovers, you had a simple job to do. Bring me Christian Craymore, and the girl Stephania, and you too bit sponge snogging snail swimmers, couldn’t handle that.” He stopped before one of his crew his finger, handling the small flamethrower that became Beauregard’s trademark weapon and earned his ship it’s name. The bronze under his feet rang out as he turned “Fast Draw, I want this ship ready to launch once we know there destination. I will see our employer before we head out.” Fast draw snapped a salute. Fast Draw Flannigan was Beauregard’s first mate, and the fifth fastest draw in the world. I didn’t suppose you knew that there was lists of the fastest draws in the world. You could hunt down a copy of the list if you like, but unfortunately the list is often a little out of date, for one of the flaws to this list is when some one challenges another on the list out side of specific tournaments, the loser commonly ends up not being on the list at all, because the loser is dead.
Captain Beauregard walked threw his ship, the fine bronze bird covered with fire guns, it’s large balloon above it as he headed down the docking tower near the center of London. He glanced up at his baby, the massive balloon above holding the red and gold painted bronze and wood vessel carved in the shape of a winged bird, leading to it’s head a massive bird shaped head. He turned and move threw the brick and stone structure as his men hussled around the ship tuning, and building, making sure the Firebird was up to snuff. He moved down to the base of the tower on to a bussling London street, pulling his massive red leather over coat over his shoulders. His massive red beard and long hair tied back, on top of his his massive form moved threw the crowds causing them to shift like a elephant moving threw tall grass. He paused after several blocks, turning down a darkly lit alley, which tall walls of the buildings blocked the light from the sun casting the red bricks in a deeper darker light then should have been for the late morning. The door, stood there in the back of the alley. The strange red wood door, with those symbols which meant something to the people inside but he had no idea how to translate them he nocked twice on the door, two harsh short nocks. A slot in the door slid open followed by a pair of eyes, then the door was opened by a man serveant of some sort, which bowed to him.
Beauregard moved inside past him, when the man serveant glared at him. Beauregard looked at him, a little confused “Your hat sir.” Beauregard nodded taking his hat off and holding it under his arm as he was led into a large library. The wood grain walls matched the color of the floor. The room was windowless, and surrounded by books only a few of which were in English, he picked up one he hadn’t read on modern theories of airship design when another door opened and a gentleman dressed in a simple suit of a mild grey, which matched the grey in his eyes and the grey hair on the ageless man before him. “My lord, we failed to bring in the Craymore, and the russian woman.”
The man in a grey suit nodded “Please Capt. Beauregard I am fine with you using addressing me by Desmond. As to the pair, I have it from a good source that Christian and Stephania have been booked on a steamship to the America’s. I would be most pleased if you could retrieve them both for me, I will pay you double what I have offered no three times if you bring me both of the Craymore brothers. It would be for the best if this could occur.”
Beauregard nodded “Aye, I shall ready my ship to set chase for the ship. Would you have the name of it.” He paused looking at the man who he towered over which some how just set off all of his alarms, as this man is dangerous. “Desmond, the steam ship?”
Desmond, moved towards his desk and pulled out a note pad “It’s called the Damnable Yankees. The ship has a reputation of being a rough sort. Very American in it’s operation. The paddle wheel ocean going vessel is run by a New York inventor and mechanic Joseph Hack. Next time I see you I would like better news.”
Beauregard nodded and bowed heading back out, grumbling and cursing under his breath as he made it back to his vessel. Flannigan waited for him “Prepare the bird for launch, we are heading to New York.”
Also, this is as rough can be, rougher in fact then a crew of Sky Pirates, in there red and gold air ship of Awesomeness!
So here it is
Chapter 5: The Sky Pirate Captain And his employer
Captain Beauregard walked up and down his mismatched crew above the city of London. “You lost Christian Craymore?” his crew each looked sheepish, they each wore the uniform for the Firebird, the heavy leathers, with the crimson skull and crossbones the traditional sign of piracy in all the years. Beauregard was a tall man dressed in a suit of Leather with a pair of bronze goggles on his head and a massive triangular top hat. His heavy burly figure slammed up down looking at his crew now three short all thanks to a botched kidnapping of two people. “You sorry excuse for liver licking boot lovers, you had a simple job to do. Bring me Christian Craymore, and the girl Stephania, and you too bit sponge snogging snail swimmers, couldn’t handle that.” He stopped before one of his crew his finger, handling the small flamethrower that became Beauregard’s trademark weapon and earned his ship it’s name. The bronze under his feet rang out as he turned “Fast Draw, I want this ship ready to launch once we know there destination. I will see our employer before we head out.” Fast draw snapped a salute. Fast Draw Flannigan was Beauregard’s first mate, and the fifth fastest draw in the world. I didn’t suppose you knew that there was lists of the fastest draws in the world. You could hunt down a copy of the list if you like, but unfortunately the list is often a little out of date, for one of the flaws to this list is when some one challenges another on the list out side of specific tournaments, the loser commonly ends up not being on the list at all, because the loser is dead.
Captain Beauregard walked threw his ship, the fine bronze bird covered with fire guns, it’s large balloon above it as he headed down the docking tower near the center of London. He glanced up at his baby, the massive balloon above holding the red and gold painted bronze and wood vessel carved in the shape of a winged bird, leading to it’s head a massive bird shaped head. He turned and move threw the brick and stone structure as his men hussled around the ship tuning, and building, making sure the Firebird was up to snuff. He moved down to the base of the tower on to a bussling London street, pulling his massive red leather over coat over his shoulders. His massive red beard and long hair tied back, on top of his his massive form moved threw the crowds causing them to shift like a elephant moving threw tall grass. He paused after several blocks, turning down a darkly lit alley, which tall walls of the buildings blocked the light from the sun casting the red bricks in a deeper darker light then should have been for the late morning. The door, stood there in the back of the alley. The strange red wood door, with those symbols which meant something to the people inside but he had no idea how to translate them he nocked twice on the door, two harsh short nocks. A slot in the door slid open followed by a pair of eyes, then the door was opened by a man serveant of some sort, which bowed to him.
Beauregard moved inside past him, when the man serveant glared at him. Beauregard looked at him, a little confused “Your hat sir.” Beauregard nodded taking his hat off and holding it under his arm as he was led into a large library. The wood grain walls matched the color of the floor. The room was windowless, and surrounded by books only a few of which were in English, he picked up one he hadn’t read on modern theories of airship design when another door opened and a gentleman dressed in a simple suit of a mild grey, which matched the grey in his eyes and the grey hair on the ageless man before him. “My lord, we failed to bring in the Craymore, and the russian woman.”
The man in a grey suit nodded “Please Capt. Beauregard I am fine with you using addressing me by Desmond. As to the pair, I have it from a good source that Christian and Stephania have been booked on a steamship to the America’s. I would be most pleased if you could retrieve them both for me, I will pay you double what I have offered no three times if you bring me both of the Craymore brothers. It would be for the best if this could occur.”
Beauregard nodded “Aye, I shall ready my ship to set chase for the ship. Would you have the name of it.” He paused looking at the man who he towered over which some how just set off all of his alarms, as this man is dangerous. “Desmond, the steam ship?”
Desmond, moved towards his desk and pulled out a note pad “It’s called the Damnable Yankees. The ship has a reputation of being a rough sort. Very American in it’s operation. The paddle wheel ocean going vessel is run by a New York inventor and mechanic Joseph Hack. Next time I see you I would like better news.”
Beauregard nodded and bowed heading back out, grumbling and cursing under his breath as he made it back to his vessel. Flannigan waited for him “Prepare the bird for launch, we are heading to New York.”