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The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 5:38 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme Marc was not, in fact, here to ask for help. "Captain?" she said, entering the room. Do I really have to go to this? She didn't ask that, though, knowing full well that he would reply, "yes," and send her on her way. "What're we... what're we doin', exactly?" She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I mean, what's the plan? Are we just gonna grab Heckett and run?" She cocked her head to one side, her next words spilling forth before he could answer. "'Cause if we are, y'know, you're gonnna need someone to help make sure things outside the ball are clear enough to get her back to the ship without any trouble. I mean, you'd only need a few people dressed up, right? I could help with all the stuff that happens afterward." Her words were coming faster now, giving away her panicked desperation to find some other way to be useful-- some way that didn't involve wearing a dress or sticking her chest out. "Y'know? I'd probably be more help if I wasn't wearin' all those stuffy clothes and all." |
Digithe Joined: 24 Aug 2003 Posts: 884 | Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 9:58 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Digithe: This theme, Any theme Frost took a deliberate breath after Marc ended her torrent of words. He tapped the tip of his pen against the paper then set it down, sat up straight, and looked at her, folding his hands together on the desk. It was certainly not like Marc to be so anxious about anything. Perhaps now he would get some answers.
"Grab and go? You know that's not my style," he said with something resembling curiosity in this tone. He paused, taking another breath. Explanations, ugh, he thought with disgust. "I suppose you have some right to ask as first mate. Very well. In addition to Heckett's presence, I hear of a treasure map hidden in a certain painting. The level of intellect needed to find and interpret said map is not something common among my crew. You, and perhaps Jenny, are among the few who can help. Inside." Captain Frost paused for a moment, picking up his pen as it started rolling and placing it in its holder. "The others are for pick-pocketing, look-outs, et cetera. I don't plan on causing a huge raucous unless absolutely necessary. The map is my... 'safe bet.' Heckett is the risky bet. "But, I suspect that's not really your concern," Radley continued with almost no pause or change in tone to indicate his sudden topic shift. "It's not like you to shy from treasure and glory. Why are you so against this? Most would kill to be in your situation. Murder." |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Sat Mar 17, 2007 4:36 am | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme Marc shrugged uncomfortably. Probably 'cause I will get killed for being in this situation, she thought. But she couldn't explain that to him, of course. How did one begin something like that? You see, Captain, I'm actually a girl who's been dressing like a guy and I'm afraid that if you make me stick my chest out people'll find out that I have parts most guys don't?
It sounded rather ridiculous. She wouldn't believe a story like that if she'd been the one behind the desk. "Nevermind, Captain." She turned to leave, knowing he might not let her just walk out-- but then, he might. "Oh, one more thing," she said suddenly, turning back for a moment. "They crew's gettin' annoyed out there. They don't know what you mean by 'book.'" |
| Digithe Joined: 24 Aug 2003 Posts: 884 | Posted: Sat Mar 17, 2007 10:18 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Digithe: This theme, Any theme "Nevermind doesn't float," Frost said flatly, not hesitating for even a moment. He gave Marc a moment to think, then pulled a fairly weathered copy of the Holy Bible from a drawer and tossed it to him. "Throw this. But first, an answer." He didn't like that Marc was avoiding his question. Frost no longer worried too much about military regulations and such garbage, but one thing he insisted on was respect for the chain of command. On the Red Triumph, it just so happened that he was at the head of that chain. He expected everyone to respond appropriately at any given time.
Besides, he could come up with no logical reason for Marc to be so distraught. There was absolutely no sense behind it, and the not knowing was slowly starting to bother him. It wasn't that he had any need to understand everything about everyone. He simply didn't trust the sudden, inexplicable change in his trusted first mate's character. |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 9:58 am | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme "Um." Marc caught the book and thought for a minute. "You see, Captain..."
What would he possibly believe? She couldn't come up with anything. I have a mysterious back problem which prevents me from sticking my chest out and has never manifested itself in the past despite all the swordfighting and manual labor I've done? No. Wearing a dress is against my religion? Hah. As if he'd care. I'm not secure enough in my manliness and if you make me wear a dress I might just go insane and try to molest your entire crew? The truth was starting to sound less and less absurd. "Well," she said slowly, carefully, but not quite certain where she was taking it, "I don't think I could stuff all this hair under one of those powedered wigs. So that kind of rules out me being a gentleman." She paused. What am I doing? She was effectively digging her own grave here-- but somehow, she thought that perhaps not digging her own grave would result in the Captain digging her grave, which just might be worse. At least this way she could offer to leave at the next port and maybe save herself a little humiliation. "And I can't wear a dress," she said suddenly, running with it before she could change her mind and chicken out-- she felt she was very, very close to changing her mind and chickening out-- "because I'd look too good in it, Captain." She clutched tightly at the Bible in her hands. "I, uh, I think it'd fit a little too well." There. It was said, and he probably wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about, but that was all right. She'd backed herself into a corner, which was a far cry better than being backed into a corner by someone else. OOC:Bwahahaha. Poor, poor Marc. |
| Digithe Joined: 24 Aug 2003 Posts: 884 | Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 11:38 am | Characters: All for this theme; By Digithe: This theme, Any theme Finally, a clear explanation. Or, at least, that's what Frost expected when Marc finally began speaking.
He was to be disappointed yet again. The captain waited patiently for his first mate to explain himself, sitting like a rock behind his desk; he did not even twiddling his thumbs. As awkward as Marc must have felt telling it, Frost possibly felt even more so, if for no other reason than his abject confusion which only grew as the explanation continued. When it was finally finished, Frost remained silently, mulling over the words in his mind -- particularly the very last few. He sat, still motionless, staring straight into Marc's eyes, hoping perhaps to look into his mind as he might have that bible, and pick out a few particular scriptures that would explain the cryptic words more clearly. Suddenly, Frost stood up, nearly knocking his chair down. It wasn't really what he saw in Marc's eyes that struck him, but the eyes themselves. Still not uttering a word, he walked swiftly around his desk and leaned in abnormally close to Marc's face, narrowing his eyes and looking straight into Marc's. He stayed for a moment, then backed up slightly, looking at the whole face. Again, a pause, before he snatched Marc's hand and looked at it, turning it over and cradling it in his own. How have I been so blind? he wondered, his thoughts almost finding their way to his lips. There was no mistake; those were a woman's hands, face, and eyes. Just as suddenly as he stood, Frost released Marc's hand and turned around. He stepped towards his desk and folded his hands behind his back. There was good reason for this movement: for the first time in years, ignoring those few times of sickness, his cheeks had adopted a more rosy shade than normal. He cleared his throat, then spoke as evenly as he could manage. "I.. err... forgive me," the captain stammered. He paused for a moment to regain his composure. It was not like him to stumble over words, and he didn't particularly care to show weakness in front of any member of his crew. "That... explains a lot." At length he turned around again, hoping that his cheeks had finished their annoying display of his embarrassment. "So you don't want the crew to know?" His level tone of confidence had fully returned at last. "There are ways. Still, you will have to wear a dress, and well." He paused, not sure how she would react. "Your secret is safe. Interested?" OOC: Mwehehee... Yes, poor Marc. Also, poor Frost XD But definitely poor, poor Marc. |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 1:43 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme Marc, too, had turned rather red; her blushing, however, had started well before her Captain's. It multiplied itself several times when he leaned in close, and even more when he took her hand. I am so dead, she thought, squeezing shut the blue eyes that had made her secret so obvious. Don't throw me to the sharks, don't throw me to the sharks, she thought, forgetting in her desperation that Frost was not one to harm women. Kick them off a ship, maybe-- she didn't know for sure one way or the other-- but not harm them, at least not directly. "I'm sorry, " she burst out, his words never making it past her ears. "I'll leave at the next port if you want, but please don't tell the crew, Captain, I--"
She stopped abruptly. He was looking at her again, and had just said something... He's not angry? She stood there for a moment, entirely confused, feeling for all the world like a young child who's just been caught at the cookie jar and yet was not going to be reprimanded. It felt strange. "I'm-- I'm still going?" Marc's confusion came through clearly in her voice; she had not Frost's talent for hiding emotions (nor, it seemed, did he at the moment. His cheeks were still a little pinker than usual, which was extremely strange for him. She, of course, was much redder, and so could not hold that against him, even if she'd been inclined to.) She hesitated for a minute before narrowing her eyes, suspicious in spite of herself, and asking the question that had to be asked: "What ways?" OOC:LOL |
| Digithe Joined: 24 Aug 2003 Posts: 884 | Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 3:26 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Digithe: This theme, Any theme "No need for apology. I have no use for superstition -- it has not affected me thus far -- and besides, I always prefer a woman's company to a man's."
Upon hearing her interest, Captain Frost grinned -- at least, he might have grinned. It was so sudden and fleeting that perhaps it was nothing more than the product of imagination. "Why Marc, you look ill. You may have to rest for the entire duration of this operation." As he spoke, his voice elevated slightly so that anyone listening at the door might hear it, he walked swiftly to a small chest in the corner, next to his dresser. He produced a large key from one of the pockets on his jacket, turned the lock, and opened the chest. It seemed to almost glow from the bright colors inside. "These dresses were found in a raid a few months back," Radley explained in a more normal voice as he placed the key back in his pocket. "Choose one, put it on, and come back out. I assume you can figure it out, but if not...." I had to help my younger sisters sometimes, as my parents were too busy and the maids weren't always competent. He decided that such an explanation would only make him look more ridiculous, and was at any rate unnecessary for the moment. Frost looked at his pocket watch again, then headed towards the door. "You have fifteen minutes before I check up on you." "I'll handle things when you come out," he continued, his tone vaguely reassuring -- at least, by Frost's standards. "First, though, I must ask your real name. Have you any questions?" His hand was on the handle to the door; he did not expect any questions. OOC: I think Marc just might hate me really soon ;) that is... if she doesn't already |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 3:56 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme At his request for her name, the automatic answer sprang to her lips: "Marc." She blinked, blushed, and corrected herself. "Sorry. It's Marguerite," she said quietly, wondering why she was suddenly so apologetic. She hadn't done anything wrong (unless you counted lying, which was something one could hardly hold against a pirate.)
She watched him leave, and couldn't help but wonder at his meaning... How does he plan to explain the sudden appearance of a woman on board? she thought. She'd spent a good four minutes trying to guess what his plan might be before she remembered that she only had fifteen minutes to begin with. Moving over to the chest, she took a cautious peek at the clothing inside. Her gaze was met with lovely silks and satins in ever color, brocades in patterns she'd never seen before, heavy fabrics and petticoats and so many ruffles and bows and beads and jewels that she hardly knew where to look. She was fascinated, and spent a good two minutes running her fingers over them appreciatively. They were beautiful-- she'd seen dresses before, but never like this. Her attention had always been occupied by the gold and other traditional treasure; selling dresses found on raids had seemed to her a complete waste of time, and so she'd never looked twice at them. They were, after all, uncomfortable, impractical, and extremely conspicuous, and a pirate had no use for any of those things. Still, she couldn't help but admit that they were gorgeous. What a raid that must have been, she thought, trying to remember whether she'd been in on that one. After another three minutes, she decided that she must have been busy elsewhere, probably stabbing people or looking for money. It took another four minutes to choose a dress. She had them spread out everywhere-- on the desk, on the bed, on the floor. She eliminated several of the gaudier ones immediately, but, being a girl, she could not choose from among the others right away. She had it narrowed down to two-- an emerald green with long sleeves and a rich-looking ruffled trim along the bottom, and a burgundy with a beautiful ruched skirt. She finally decided on the green and removed her shirt, as well as the bindings that so long preserved her secret. She chose a corset from the chest that looked like it would fit her-- she didn't know much about dresses, but she remembered her mother wearing them when they'd still been on the Desert Rose. (Her favorite color had been emerald green. That memory almost made Marguerite feel nostalgic, and then she remembered that she only had two minutes left before the Captain came in to see whether she was dressed.) She struggled with the corset, trying to wrestle it into place. When she finally got it where it needed to be, she came to a stunning realiation: The strings were in the back. "Dammit," she muttered, trying to lace herself up and failing miserably, hoping very hard that the Captain would lose track of time. (He rarely lost track of time.) She stomped on the floor in frustration. The strings weren't cooperating and she'd wasted the two minutes she had left trying to make them do so. She didn't fancy being caught by the Captain in pants and underwear. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" OOC:XD Again, very glad she's just a character.
And she doesn't hate you yet... but she will, if you're planning what I think you're planning. |
| Digithe Joined: 24 Aug 2003 Posts: 884 | Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 7:41 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Digithe: This theme, Any theme Frost nodded, bowed almost subconsciously, then turned and left. Back on deck, he found his crew with a rather pathetic assortment of "books." One person actually had a travel log, but that success was weakened by the fact that another had brought a wooden log. Still others brought planks, but most of them were simply standing around confusedly. That was when he remembered the bible that was still in his quarters. Oh well. She still has fifteen minutes, and I wouldn't want to enter in before that.
"That'll do," the captain said flatly. "Everyone will take turns with the planks. This will not be easy, because of the waves, but you must be able to walk with one of these balanced upon your head, like so." He snatched a plank from the nearest sailor, placed it neatly on his head, and took several steps, turned, and walked back. "The water is reasonably calm here, so I expect you all to do the same." He returned the plank to its owner and signaled for them to begin. He watched for a while, offering verbal and physical criticism and checking his watch periodically. Fifteen minutes. "Jenny, you're the closest. Take over for a moment." With that, he walked back to his quarters, opened the door just enough for himself, turned around and backed in, pulling the door shut. He turned around slowly, caught one look at Marguerite, then turned back around quickly. He coughed suddenly, then cleared his throat. After so many years as a pirate, he'd forgotten that women tend to take time to get dressed when wearing dresses and such. Furthermore, he'd forgotten about the concept of knocking before entering a room that might be occupied. Besides, it was his room. "You look like... you might need some help," he said evenly, doing his best to maintain his composure. It wasn't so much that that the sight of an undressed woman bothered him or unnerved him. It was mostly the fact that this particular woman had been a man for the longest time. That revelation rightfully shattered Frost's understanding of how he -- rather, she -- would react to a given situation. OOC: That depends on what you think I'm planning... It's nothing sick, so you can get those sick ideas out of your head now! |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 8:17 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme OOC:I'm not thinking anything sick. I don't know what you think I'm thinking. Sicko.
Marguerite let out a startled gasp when the Captain entered, though it wasn't exactly a complete surprise. She should've known she'd wasted fifteen minutes already, she thought, as she clutched the gown to her chest in an attempt to cover up. She didn't know why she was so worried; the corset covered everything important. Still, the idea of being seen half-dressed by her Captain, of all people, was absolutely mortifying. "Yes," she said simply, blushing furiously. She clutched at her braid with one hand, just to have something to hold on to. "Why, does Jenny know how to tie a corset?" The thought that Frost could help never crossed her mind-- if it had, she would have been even more shocked and embarassed than she already was. |
Melia Stahlflugel Joined: 4 Aug 2005 Posts: 613 | Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 9:26 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Melia Stahlflugel: This theme, Any theme Jenny was doing her best to teach the pirates how to walk... using a plank. "Well, I guess we have to use what we have... but still, a plank on a moving ship...?"
Eyes half-lidded, looking quite bored, she tried to help Frost's men. "Suck in your gut, man, no one's going to want to dance with that in the way..." She said to one, poking him in the stomach with her cane. "Next." The next was lithe, but hunched when he walked. "Straighten up," she commented, cracking him in the back with her cane. He yelped, and then passed the board to the next man, and so on... Jenny sighed. They're going to spot us the minute we come in and shoot us. Or... if we get a particularly dense bunch--it's the Navy, after all--we'll be fine. But, something's bound to go wrong. Something always does... OOC:I dunno if I wanna do Aiden's nightmare anymore >__> It doesn't really matter. |
| Digithe Joined: 24 Aug 2003 Posts: 884 | Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 8:18 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Digithe: This theme, Any theme OOC: Jeez, I can't even imagine what you're thinking that I think you're thinking. That's just sick that you would suggest something like that
Confident that he'd regained his composure sufficiently (All of this feeling awkward is getting annoying.) he turned around and calmly moved to his desk, removing his large jacket and setting it on the desk. He suspected that if he'd put it on the chair, that char would have fallen over. He then rolled up his sleeves and walked around to Marguerite's back, knelt down, and took the laces in his hands. "She may," he responded at last, as though he were tying her shoes and not her corset. "But do you really want the whole crew to find out?" Sensing her embarrassment, he offered a brief explanation: "Sisters." Whether or not she understood was none of his concern. If she asked for clarification he might be inclined to explain further, but he was certainly not going to bother without prompting. As it was, he wasn't sure if he really needed to offer the very brief one that he did. |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 8:25 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme Marguerite might have been curious as to what, exactly, he meant, but she was too busy being embarrassed. She was still clutching the dress to her, as though covering up her front would prevent him from seeing her back-- it was, she supposed, just an attempt at feeling less exposed.
It didn't work. She waited quietly until he was finished. "How do you plan to explain this to the crew, then?" she asked, pulling the dress on over her pants. She could always remove the pants later-- or, she thought (and the thought gave her some comfort) she could leave them on beneath the skirt. It felt less strange that way, albeit a little heavier than she would've liked. |
| Digithe Joined: 24 Aug 2003 Posts: 884 | Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2007 8:58 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Digithe: This theme, Any theme As a response, Frost merely raised an eyebrow. The meaning behind this gesture was quite obscure, but in his eyes he was smiling. He offered Marguerite his arm: Perhaps she needs help getting used to walking in such a frilly contraption, he wondered to himself. He walked with her to the door, opened it for her, and allowed her to pass through first.
"Presenting," he announced as soon as he had emerged and closed the door behind him, "Mrs. Fitzwilliam Radley." He opened his mouth as though he were going to continue but hesitated, seeing blank stares greeting him. "Mrs. Captain Jack Frost," he corrected himself, remembering the silly nickname he had been given. In truth, he didn't particularly care what his crew -- or anyone, for that matter -- referred to him by, so long as they did so with respect. He didn't even care about Jenny's tendency to call him "Frosty McFrostFrost" or the like. "She is to take... Marc's place in the upcoming ball, as he has fallen unfortunately ill." Radley had almost slipped, but was getting used to it now. "If you still don't understand, she is my wife and a better pirate than you all, so respect her. I will have none of this superstitious nonsense. She has been on the ship since our last stop in port. Besides, if you've forgotten, Jenny is also a woman." He paused, allowing this to sink in. He could tell that some of the men were still unsure, but they slowly remembered that questioning captain Frost was not a good idea. "Marc appears to have immediate post prandial upper abdominal distension*, to which only myself, and by association my wife, have immunities to. As usual, you must all stay strictly clear of my quarters at all times, unless you wish to develop an acute case yourself. There are no questions, so let us see what progress you have made." OOC: *Ah, Bones McCoy is so amazing XD |
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