Cutlass part 1/?-fixed
anonymous
June 8 2010, 00:12:05 UTC
Damn that word count its way to short! -_- err now its readable and the rest of them will be longer...T.T ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The salty smell of the sea was thick in the air and the darkening storm clouds above were electrified with the thunder that would amplify the magnitude of the storm. Down below the ship’s crew scrambled as Captain Kirkland shouted orders to ‘Man the decks!’ ‘The sails, the sails you lubber!’ and ‘Gangway!’ as the storm began. When the storm started fate decided to show up too. It did this by going straight for the British pirate’s ship and barreling into it.
“Blimey! Was the only word that Captain Kirkland could say as he readjusted his now sopping wet tricorn*. That was a big storm. Actually big was a huge understatement because as the dazed crew rearranged themselves Captain Kirkland was still knuckle-white and holding on to the ship’s helm.
Now Captain Kirkland was not someone to be trifled with. He battled against France’s ships and privateers, stole booty from kings, and was quick on conquering any land (or person) he could; a little storm was nothing to him. Which was why this storm had ruffled him so badly, he had not seen a storm that big since … since … ever and for a man as old as he that was definitely something.
“Cap’n! We need to leave the ship!” Yelled one of the crewmen. He flinched as the Captains stern gaze fell on him.
“What we need do to is get the bloody hell out of here.” Captain Kirkland responded while moving his arms around to indicate the island the ship had sailed into.
Of course they’d check for damage first and any injuries would be treated but he did not want to spend too much time on an unknown island. His men were powerful but for all he knew a tribe of cannibals could be living there and his men would not be able to take on a huge tribe without some of them dying. Worse it could be French occupied and he could run into Francis. He shuddered at the thought of running into that groped obsessed, smug faced, landlubber frog.
“Err Captain we won’t be able to do that…for awhile.” If there was one thing that the Captain did not like was being told what to do so when his crew told him that they weren’t going to do something ‘for awhile’ he listened…and they better make it a damn good reason too.
At the look he got the man quickly said “Look at the side o the ship Cap’n.”
Captain Kirkland calmly climbed down the ships rope-ladder. Once he did the Captain stared and stared and stared at the ships side like he wanted to burn a hole through it with the still to be invented x-ray vision. He then promptly started to spew every swear word know to pirates in the history of privacy starting with ‘bloody hell and ending with wrench ship!’ The crew did not cover their ears, they were defiantly hardy men.
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The salty smell of the sea was thick in the air and the darkening storm clouds above were electrified with the thunder that would amplify the magnitude of the storm. Down below the ship’s crew scrambled as Captain Kirkland shouted orders to ‘Man the decks!’ ‘The sails, the sails you lubber!’ and ‘Gangway!’ as the storm began. When the storm started fate decided to show up too. It did this by going straight for the British pirate’s ship and barreling into it.
~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*
“Blimey! Was the only word that Captain Kirkland could say as he readjusted his now sopping wet tricorn*. That was a big storm. Actually big was a huge understatement because as the dazed crew rearranged themselves Captain Kirkland was still knuckle-white and holding on to the ship’s helm.
Now Captain Kirkland was not someone to be trifled with. He battled against France’s ships and privateers, stole booty from kings, and was quick on conquering any land (or person) he could; a little storm was nothing to him. Which was why this storm had ruffled him so badly, he had not seen a storm that big since … since … ever and for a man as old as he that was definitely something.
“Cap’n! We need to leave the ship!” Yelled one of the crewmen. He flinched as the Captains stern gaze fell on him.
“What we need do to is get the bloody hell out of here.” Captain Kirkland responded while moving his arms around to indicate the island the ship had sailed into.
Of course they’d check for damage first and any injuries would be treated but he did not want to spend too much time on an unknown island. His men were powerful but for all he knew a tribe of cannibals could be living there and his men would not be able to take on a huge tribe without some of them dying. Worse it could be French occupied and he could run into Francis. He shuddered at the thought of running into that groped obsessed, smug faced, landlubber frog.
“Err Captain we won’t be able to do that…for awhile.” If there was one thing that the Captain did not like was being told what to do so when his crew told him that they weren’t going to do something ‘for awhile’ he listened…and they better make it a damn good reason too.
At the look he got the man quickly said “Look at the side o the ship Cap’n.”
Captain Kirkland calmly climbed down the ships rope-ladder. Once he did the Captain stared and stared and stared at the ships side like he wanted to burn a hole through it with the still to be invented x-ray vision. He then promptly started to spew every swear word know to pirates in the history of privacy starting with ‘bloody hell and ending with wrench ship!’ The crew did not cover their ears, they were defiantly hardy men.
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