piratejournal | 003 [voice]

[You all remember Hector, of course. The ass who's torn apart most of the folks who've asked stupid questions? And has been highly offended at the assumptions about the way he speaks? Well, he's just come upon a thought that struck him out of the blue, and really, in his opinion you just might want to pay attention.

But hoo boy, does he sound full of schadenfreude. Because he is.]

Just as an aside, as that execution do bring some things to mind. At least for meself, as I'm a bit more versed in the laws and rules of the sea...

You do realize, o'course, with your sailing and bartering without proper papers - letters o' marque or otherwise granting you permission to do such from a nation - you are all, in fact, committing acts of piracy, aye?

No papers, no authority to conduct yourself as a legitimate crew. No authority, of course, to organize yourself in a militaristic force. You aren't privateers. You aren't merchants, and you aren't treasure hunters.

You're pirates. Piss poor excuses for pirates, I'll grant ye that, but not a single soul brought to this place has authority to do anything. You're conducting in black market trade, operating a craft that is not, in fact, registered in any home port, and not a single one among ye has a place ye make berth.

This, of course, does include our little ship full o'sparkle and light in the name of justice et cetera, et cetera.

Pirates, the lot of you. Every last one of you be staring at Jack Ketch, waiting to be the next to dance the jig. No matter your noble intentions.

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[He's already gotten used to the time differences, and being honest, weird is a state of being for him anymore, anyway, so not an eyelash is batted at that.]

I can't say I'm surprised. Piracy was well on its way out in me own time, thanks to the likes of the East India Trading Company. Though I wonder, too, if they've come and gone by then, as well. Even they can't last forever, I imagine.

East India Trading My Arse--

Ah-- Right, yes they were-- [He stares out at nothing in particular, drums his fingers on the nearly empty tankard.]

1874, first of July. Took them in as part of the Empire's armies, there was a very nasty rebellion in India in the 1850's. I won't deny the Company in practice bolstered the Empire brilliantly, but there are reasons that rebellion happened in the first place.

And other things, of which you no doubt are aware.

[tips the tankard up. Where's the rum gone? HE SIGHS.]

Piracy as you know it does fade I'll admit, but it won't ever die out completely. It's not like it was.

I imagine in the coming times it will have to evolve. Or die. You can't keep doing the same thing forever and expect it to work, piracy be no different.

[He has his own reasoning for that, though that's something he'll never mention to a living soul. Instead, he signals the bar wench for another bottle. It's Arthur's round but...Well.

The rum is, in fact, gone.]

I'd drink to that if-- [Arthur trails off as he reads over his own journal, having been musing in his rum instead.]

--"She"? Excuse me Captain, but do I look like I'm wearing skirts?

Dismal island am I?

... Alright, I'll give you the dismal bit.

[Yes, yes, that whole...Living...Country nonsense, if it's true. He's seen stranger.

But really, you've opened yourself up to trolling, Arthur.]

Aye, dismal. And the southwest the most dismal of all. Though given what's been told about this and that, mate, I wouldn't be surprised if ye did run about in skirts and stays.

[sits upright, drums his fingers on the empty tankard with a patient thoughtfulness. This is the first decent conversation he's had since arriving. A battle of casual mocking insults? He requires those just as most life requires oxygen to breathe.]

You'll not see me in any lady's garments, even if you asked. The southwest though... [he smiles]

Bristol, I take it? [An odd thing begins to happen: England's accent drifts up north. When he's buzzed and relaxed and feeling pleasantly sardonic, he just can't help himself.]

Must've hit my head between home and here. Aye, Lord knows a fellow couldn't hardly pinpoint another fellow's accent not even after listening to it for God knows how long. Such an embarrassment on my part really.

Wouldn'ta ever known if you'd said not a word.

[Such banter is like an initiation of sorts in getting to know someone. If they can gloss right past it and take the piss in stride, there will be less judging.]

Really, given the circumstances and attitude so far, mate, I'm simply going to count me blessings and be glad you didn't point in me face and call me pirate.

[Despite, of course, the fact that he is a pirate.]

Really, a curious thing, how me own accent got associated with such nonsense.

003 [voice]

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