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Post by Afonso Silva on Oct 1, 2010 12:56:09 GMT -5
Sitting in a bar, Afonso Silva sipped from a glass of Port and sighed, putting his hand in his chin. It wasn't the first time he'd been to this bar, and it certainly wasn't the last. After all, he was what many in this place called a 'drifter'; someone who dropped from crews like a fly.
But he had good reason to! That last escapade with his crew had not gone so well; after all, having to guide a rather murderous pirate captain and his crew to a false treasure with a gun at the back of his neck was not exactly his idea of a good time. So, putting the Spanish crew he'd been a member of behind him, Afonso slipped away in the night and returned to this place, being a bar on the English coast. It wasn't the nicest and certainly not the cheapest, but the crowd was one he fit into well. Spinning a little on his chair, the Portuguese navigator looked into his glass before sitting back against the bar and watching the boisterous pirates in the room. He'd have to find himself a new crew eventually.
Smiling slyly over his glass, he murmured, "Quem espera sempre alcança.*[/i]" before closing his eyes and taking a long sip. Someone would pick him up eventually.They always did.
*good things come to those who wait
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Oct 1, 2010 15:00:36 GMT -5
He had so many better things to do, and yet at the same time nothing. He'd been sat on his arse for far too long, and so what better why to relax than a gander down to the local? Well, not local. Not by a longshot. To him the local would be the Bishop's Blaze down a rather secluded back ally in London, but no, instead he was at Bell wharf beach. It was a quaint little bay, one a few miles east of his home city... Thus it was perfect, utterly ideal for going unknown. It avoided so many of the problems being in your actual local could bring, problems such as some bloody wanker of a little brother coming looking for you whilst you were smashed. That alas had not ended at all well, and indeed he hadn't quite been able to show his face again after the utter embarrassed that had caused him. Damn it all, damn it to hell. This was just... daft!
With a sigh he shouldered his way in, the hood of his cloak covering a vast majority of his face. It had very much the desired effect, keeping attention firmly away from the stranger who walked in. He'd long ago found that blending in when you did it in plain sight. People never looked at what was right there, what was right in front of them. However he did, and thus he noticed someone relatively inconsequential... Or not, as it so happened. He'd heard of the Spanish looking fellow, a navigator for hire... A freelancer so to say. How interesting, figuratively speaking at any rate. There was a matter he found of greater importance right now, far greater. "Pint of ale," he ordered, looking off to the side as he did. He couldn't say he cared for bars like this, not for the most part. Too loud and full of people just itching for a fight, so barbaric and unrefined...
"'ere you go," grunted the somewhat heft man grunted, pushing an amber bottle to him.
Paying the man he took the bottle, turning to lean on the bar before swallowing a swig of the rather poor quality alcohol, a sigh following soon after. There was so much going on, the damn Fly Boys were clamping down on piracy, it was getting harder and harder... But in the end that only made it all the more satisfying. They'd try to ensnare him, catch him out even, yet it'd not work. The were such fools to actually think and hope that they had a chance, but the they wouldn't even think that. They had no clue as to who he was, or why he did what he did. That was perfect, utterly splendid. Changes needed to be made though, serious changes. After the last outing it had been an all together close call, far too close. It had been due to a simple mistake, too. I mean really, getting lost? What in the name of the queen had they been thinking!? Pirates were not meant to get lost, especially not in the damn skies. However they had, and thus changes needed to be made.
With another swig he pushed himself up slightly, walking up the the seated fellow, before sitting himself in the chair before him in an all too uninvited fashion. Bottle being placed between them, elbows upon the table as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "So, you're that freelancer, correct?" He queried, no introduction offered for now. Such a thing would wait, wait until he was ready to give such. Right now he was not. "Now I shan't dally about the point, my good man. I need a navigator, and you're a navigator. So correct me if I'm wrong in my presumptions here, but you're looking for work." A vague smirk was visible below the hood as he ran his finger around the mouth of the bottle, not waiting for an answer before he continued. "I'm not looking for a part timer, they're useless as shit in my book, no loyalty. I need someone full time, nothing more nor less." And there he left the comment, leaning back once more to bring the bottle to his lips where upon he promptly emptied it of the remaining contents.
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Post by Afonso Silva on Oct 1, 2010 23:00:07 GMT -5
Guess he had been right, after all. A figure with a hood had plopped right down and started propositioning him. It was easy to figure out from the accent and the word choice that he was from here, probably from London. Afonso sipped his wine and leveled the stranger with a green-eyed look--not angry, not even mildly insulted at being called useless--just...curious. It was an interesting proposition, none the less. Afonso took a long sip and set the glass down, resting his chin in his hand and speaking with a touch of almost amusement in his voice. Combined with his accent, it was rather lilting. "I suppose you could say that, yes. Although, the last time I made a deal with a man who refused to show me his face, it didn't go so well for me."
Chuckling lightly, he leaned forward. "You are asking me to stop doing what I've done my whole life and...settle down, correct? I certainly hope you have some sort of incentive. And preferably one that isn't 'or else'."
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Oct 2, 2010 11:41:58 GMT -5
"I suppose you could say that, yes. Although, the last time I made a deal with a man who refused to show me his face, it didn't go so well for me."
More the fool him, was all Arthur had to say. "That was your own fault," he grunted nonchalantly, shrugging along with it. Truly this man's mistake had not been Arthur's, and he was hardly willing to take the repercussions of such. "Trust the first pretty face you see, and they'll drag you along on a fool's folly." As it seemed this fellow had worked out, though of course he should have seen it sooner. Really he should just count his blessings that he was alive, and hadn't had his throat slit. Arthur had heard many a tale of someone putting trust in a pretty lady, or fella, only to find out it was a trick. It really was a dog eat dog world. "Trust my words, not my face. The former has nothing to do with this, not right now," he chided. Many an innocent face could lead you astray, it was the words that one would have to trust.
"You are asking me to stop doing what I've done my whole life and...settle down, correct? I certainly hope you have some sort of incentive. And preferably one that isn't 'or else'."
Wasn't he just the brightest thing out there~? Ah-hah, hardly. "Correct, very well done." Whether it was a genuine compliment or not remained to be seen. "Tsk, at least give me some credit. Of course I damn well do, I wouldn't bloody well be sat here had I not." Drumming a finger against the table in a beat only he heard he sighed. He really did hate bartering for things like this, the 'or else' method was so much fast. Though in the long run it simply lead to a rickety crew who was ill-contented with where they were, usually leading to some sort of rebellion. Not fun. "Obviously the pay's damn better than you'd usually receive, more constant. Just ends up with everyone taking a percentage of whatever's nicked. It's far safer too when you have the backing of a crew, just as long as you don't piss me off anyroad." Wasn't that just what they were all after? Most everyone could be bought with money or protection, he really did wonder which short this bloke was. Though as an afterthought he added; "Unless there's something else you were after?"
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Post by Afonso Silva on Oct 3, 2010 12:35:51 GMT -5
Afonso sat back and contemplated what the other was saying. He was one who tended to examine situations, anyway--always to look before he leaps. Commenting with a low chuckle, "Yes, but I didn't trust the pretty face, I trusted the stranger who hid himself from me.", Afonso allowed the other to continue.
At the final mention of the proposition, he took a long sip of his port and leaned back in the chair, swirling the liquid idly in the glass. "I'm a man of few needs, senhor. Very few. I only ask for pay and a place to rest my head. However..." Trailing off, he leaned a bit forward, a smile on his face. "I do have but one request before we go off gallivanting and do whatever you pirates do. I want to go East."
Simple enough request. The mapmaker had told him great stories of the East, of the trade and the people and the gold--he'd said it would be a dream of his to visit before he died. Well, the mapmaker never got that chance. But the bit of his ashes worn in a vial around Afonso's neck said otherwise. He'd manage to scatter them all over the world, now; and the final place was to be the East.
"I realize it might be a touch out of your way," he continued, "But. If you would only take me there, then I would be willing to join you, as your navigator. "
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Oct 5, 2010 5:16:10 GMT -5
"Yes, but I didn't trust the pretty face, I trusted the stranger who hid himself from me."
Again, not Arthur's fault or problem. He honestly wasn't concerned with the mistakes he made, they weren't his damn well problem. "Well you're rather daft then." There he left the point, not much caring for whatever else came. This was how he did things, how he worked. If this man were to actually he'd learn the meanings of such things. If Arthur didn't want to do something there was no force on this god's earth that could actually get him to do so, let alone some cocky little upstart who looked a good few years older than him. In the end this was a like it or lump it situation, Arthur's words were true, very much so. It was unseemly to lie, especially when conducting business. Yes, of course it was perfectly acceptable to tactfully avoid the truth, but not lie~ Even if one could strictly say that both things were the same. Eh, he knew what he thought, sod whatever opinion anyone else had on the matter.
"I'm a man of few needs, senhor. Very few. I only ask for pay and a place to rest my head. However... I do have but one request before we go off gallivanting and do whatever you pirates do. I want to go East. I realize it might be a touch out of your way. But. If you would only take me there, then I would be willing to join you, as your navigator. "
Cocking a brow arms folded across his chest, well then... "How far east?" He questioned. "East is a big old place, you know. Fuck, every where's east if you keep damn well going for long enough," he chuntered on. It hadn't been a flat out no, but then again he did need a navigator, and by hell did he need one soon. This wasn't to say he was desperate, and should it not work out the way he wanted well... He knew exactly where the door was. There were many navigators in the world, many that freelanced. Arthur had little doubt in his mind that if push came to shove he'd rather easily find someone else willing to take on the job. For now though he was amiable, willing enough to listen and negotiate. Besides which, this chap did seem at least mildly more trustworthy than most of the scallywags you tended to meet in these parts. That much was a positive he supposed.
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Post by Afonso Silva on Oct 8, 2010 19:32:20 GMT -5
"I want to go to India." he replied simply, shrugging his shoulders and downing the last of his wine. India had always been a booming trading center, had it not? It was where the navigators that ran in his family had always tried to go. And it was somewhere he'd sworn he'd get to, too.
It was good that this stranger seemed to be willing to bargain. Frankly, no other crew Afonso had ever joined had been able to do this for him--although, occasionally he had been taken on to said crews by force--and it had been one of the many reasons he'd quite literally, jumped ship.
But there was something different about this. Afonso offered the other a smile. "That's my offer, and I am sticking to it."
(o-orz sorry this took so long, band has been a bitch this week ;A; )
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Oct 10, 2010 18:00:56 GMT -5
"I want to go to India."
India? Hm... Chewing his bottom lip for a moment he drew his finger along the table, as if mentally plotting the route. It was a long way, a very long way. Even for as finer ship as his it would still take a while, that and it could be pretty damn dangerous. In a way he saw more pros than cons, and that didn't vote well. Yet... Oh, and yet one had to take risks, no? Yes, of course. A life without risks was dull, it was boring. Even someone as rigid as Arthur knew that, he couldn't deny taking one or two unnecessary risks in his time. Actually he could, and every probably would. It was but a simple fact that Arthur liked to maintain the persona of an utter gentleman, if only because it was somewhat hardwired into that head of his. It had become near enough a reflexive second nature, one he failed from time to time... A lot of times, actually, but hey who cared~
"That's my offer, and I am sticking to it."
Such a demanding chap. "That's a rather expensive demand," he hummed out. "It's a long way, too. You're asking a lot." Though in a way it was no more than what Arthur himself was asking. He was trying to get this fellow to give up his way of life, something that he knew better than most was pretty bleeding hard. Still, the situations between the two were totally different. Arthur had changed utterly, whilst still clinging onto what he'd had. He was offering this fellow a more stable job, he really should be thanking him. At least this was how he saw it. "Very well then," he stated, a flicker of a smirk as he leant back in his chair. "You'll navigate us to India. However," he warned, voice this time somewhat... colder, than before. "Fuck up and I'll slit your throat myself. Trust me when I say I'd have no qualm in doing so." He didn't, and he would. Simple as that.
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Post by Afonso Silva on Oct 14, 2010 15:50:27 GMT -5
Afonso watched the other's movements, wary despite the relaxed expression on his face. Maybe it was time for a change. He'd been hopping ships for so long, after all. A little stability--if you could call it that, really--might be just what he needed. The man seemed powerful enough. Or more of, he had that sort of air about him; the proud posture, the tone of voice. Almost like a noble.
Pirate captains tended to be that way though. One of those ego things. Hearing the other affirm him, Afonso smiled, seemingly unaffected by the threat. He'd heard that one before. "Ah, fair enough. I feel as though I wouldn't be a good navigator if I got you lost, hm?" Ignoring the fact that he'd done that before. Whoops. He offered his hand as if to seal the deal, looking affable. "I would be pleased to be of service then, Captain."
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Oct 15, 2010 16:21:21 GMT -5
"Ah, fair enough. I feel as though I wouldn't be a good navigator if I got you lost, hm? I would be pleased to be of service then, Captain."
With a firm nod he rubbed at his neck for a moment. "I'm pleased we have an understanding then." With that he stood, rolling his shoulders slightly. As the joints loosened themselves up the barest of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, dissipating only when he turned back to speak to the seated stranger. "Meet me in London in a week, I'll have everything fit and ready for then." With that he'd bury his hands into his pockets. "Meet me in front of Jackson's on Cheapside. It's a butchers, rather easy to find for a navigator such as yourself, no?" And it really wasn't, not at all. In fact Jackson's was a cobblers, next to the Talbort. Indeed it wasn't even on Cheapside, rather... Well actually it was down an ally a short ways away. That was the point though, if the man couldn't find him then he wasn't worth his salt. He'd have been nothing but a waste of Arthur's time.
"And I suggest you drink your fill of that. It's not something I stock." If only because it reminded him of a vile bastard he'd much rather forget. Spiteful? Oh fuck yes he was, totally and utterly. However, whilst this was so he was a gentleman, and thus he shoved a couple of notes to the man, at least willing to pay for a bottle of the vile liquid. "Remember, Jackson's at noon." And with that he simply left. The night was young, and there were many other pubs calling his name. There was no doubt that by the wee hours of the morn he'd be shitfaced. But hey, who cared~ Concluded \o/?
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