bakerstreet | Age of Sail

Age of Sail

Age of Sail Meme

Welcome to the high seas and the Caribbean, in the Golden Age of Sail—and Piracy! Hoist anchors and set sail, because there’s adventure—and treasure—on the horizon.

Roles:
Piracy
A. Ship captain, of course, would you be found anywhere else? Command and the sea, those are your callings. Along with, of course, plunder.
B. Quartermaster, elected representative of the crew’s interests, and with power to veto the Captain’s decisions whenever the ship is not engaged in battle.
C. Crew. You’re in it for the plunder, and can’t be bothered with those pesky decisions. Unless, just maybe, you’ve got a mutiny in mind.
D. Cabin boy. Lowest in rank and newest on the ship, without any sailing experience of your own, but you’ll work your way up.
E. Stowaway. Whatever ship you’re on, whatever reason you have for running, you’d better hope you aren’t found.

The Law
F. Pirate-hunter. Maybe you’re working freelance, taking bounties where you find them, or maybe you are an officer of a royal navy, but either way, you’re tasked with bringing those lawless pirates to justice. There’s money in it, and glory for you.
G. Governor. You are the law, in your little corner of the Caribbean. Troops from the homeland, money and resources are yours, but anarchy is just one mistake away, and the pirates are always threatening your ships and those of your traders.
H. Honest sailor. You follow orders and don’t ask too many questions about them. Or the cargo.
I. Innocent Passenger. Honestly, you were just trying to get home, or to your new home in the new world. But now? Pirates.

Land-Lubbers
J. Innkeeper or Brothel Madam. When the pirates and sailors come into town, they’re going to need food, drink, and companionship. You’re here to provide that.
K. Shipwright. Ships and repairs, it’s all your business. You’re willing to serve any customer, and you don’t ask too many questions.

L. Wildcard! Who would your character be in the Golden Age of Sail?

Mix and match, pirates and pirate hunters, raid a ship or follow a map to treasure. Go get that horizon!

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[Navigator. He can be either a pirate or an honest sailor.]

[he's got his own cutlass!]

[definitely stowaway]

( Ship captain, of course. )

[Would you like a stowaway?]

( Open to playing any role, so let me know what you wanna play and I'll adapt accordingly. Or I can just RNG it. )

( open to all the options! )

( open to all options )

( anything/everything is fine! )

[Lived during pirate age in canon, open to any role.]

[Either a pirate or the law, probably not just an honest sailor but I can roll with whatever.]

[Could be a noble lady who was captured for ransom or a stowaway, but I'm open to other ideas as well. M/F for any shipping.]

[Did someone say Golden Age hi hello I am here.]

[ It had been a long ten years.

Ten years of Jack Sparrow all but running in place. Ten years of Jack desperately trying to play catch up to his mutinous first mate, to enact the revenge that he is more than entitled to at this point. Those three days on the rumrunner's island gave him a serious disadvantage, and there is no way he was going to win this race now.

Not unless he wises up. Not until he thinks about things differently. There had to be a way to get revenge that wasn't showing up at places Hector had been. He needed to be smarter than Hector, and more resourceful on top of it.

And truly, he has the greatest resource anyone could ask for: A compass that can lead him to whatever he wants.

All this time, he'd set his compass on Hector with nothing more than the idea to shoot him dead with the pistol Hector himself had given him. But without enough time to stop and enough time to think, he realizes there is a better way to go about all of this. He doesn't need to seek out Hector. He needs to seek out the things Hector is going after with a desperation that is nearly identical to his own.

He'd asked around, found out there were 882 pieces of gold that have to be returned to the chest before their curse is lifted. The advantage that Jack has in doing this, is that he does not need every single piece. He only needs a couple to make this work.

The rest had been easy.

When he gathers enough pieces, he takes all of them and makes his way to Isla de Muerta. He is very methodical, careful to stow away his dingy and erase any signs that anyone had been there. And then he waits, patiently, for Hector to show up on his ship. When he does, when Hector and his men make it into the treasure room to return their own coins, what they will find is this:

Jack Sparrow, sitting on the chest itself as though it were a throne. He'd swapped out his hat for a solid gold crown, tilted sideways onto his head. His neck and his fingers are decorated in any and all jewelry that had caught his fancy. And in his hands, he plays with three solid gold Aztec coins.

He smirks when all clamor comes to a halt, when everyone is shocked into silence upon finding him alive. His grin is bright and it is beautiful and it is victorious and smug and everything else that comes with a plan being pulled off perfectly. ]

Ah, Hector! Fancy seeing you here, eh?

[ /BREAKS DOWN THE DOOR, HONEY I'M HOME ]

Edited 2016-06-16 14:07 (UTC)

[It has been, in Hector's experience, always come down to two types of victories. There are shades and variations in that, of course, but they all fall in one of two categories, ultimately.

The first kind are easiest. Find a target. Hoist your colors once you've closed in enough that your prey has no chance to run, and watch as they strike their own - whatever the ensign, it doesn't matter when you owe allegiance to none but your own - and it ends up being a civil enough affair. Oh, those that are ready don't get to slake their blood thirst, no, but usually the takings make up for it, and it's easy enough to wound a ship just so, in order to make sure if they try to pursue, they won't get very far. All in all, the rarest of types, true enough, and his least favorite, true enough again, but one that works out well enough for both sides involved.

The second type are the hard victories. Victories where, yes, you won, but the cost is high and in the end it's either worth it, or it's not. Fights where the stakes are high, the opponents matched, and neither side has any intention of losing. Where the air is laced with the smell of blood and gunpowder and smoke, words lost in the thunder of the guns, becoming nothing so much as white noise, a vibrating hum under pistol shot and steel, punctuated by screams and splintering wood. They're a giant, noisy mess, where even he, leather lungs that he is, loses the sound of his own voice in it all.

The types of victories that after all is said and done, and the opposing side has laid down their arms, he can look at the crew and know exactly how hard it's been to secure it.

This has been one of those victories. The deck has, at least, been cleared of most of the debris, the more badly wounded dragged into the cabin for tending; they have nothing like a surgery, after all. And he would, really, much prefer to sit down for a minute or two himself, to tend to his own wounds. He can feel the tackiness of the drying blood down one side of his face, and rubbing at it gets him nothing but a sticky hand, and reopening the wound it's come from. A small one, probably, at least it doesn't scream at him for it, but enough that it's bled like crazy, helped along from clotting by the rain from earlier. There are holes in his coat sleeve, and he figures there are probably splinters from the railing he'll have to dig out later. He's not keen on the idea of infection from letting it sit too long, now that those are worries that are all to real to him again.

And beyond all of that, he's simply tired. Hasn't seen a wink of sleep since before arriving at the Cove, the night before spent refitting the Pearl with every bit of shot and powder he and Jack could get their hands on, driving the crew like two things possessed, because if they don't do it, who will? And there after a hard battle, won by luck and the skin of their teeth, the outcome, he'd been sure since the beginning, stacked against them.

But they're alive, at least. Banged. Bruised. Beaten about, most of them bleeding in some manner or another, and exhausted, but the Pearl survived and they along with her.

And while he wants to sit down, and he wants to at least peel of his coat and shirt and look at his arm, which aches like a misbegotten son of a bitch, he knows he can't. Not yet, anyway. Someone has to hold it together with the exhausted crew. Someone has to provide direction until they're in what he can deem safer waters, once they're well and truly sure the armada has turned away for good (because wouldn't that be something, to let their guards down now and be overrun).]

Well. [Said vaguely in Jack's direction, though he pays him no actual mind, instead leaning against a solid part of the railing of the quarterdeck, his weight shifting to his weaker leg to take some of the pressure off of his opposite arm.] That were smoother than I expected it to be.

[Which is, probably, quite the laugh, as he does glance over then, out of a mask of his own rain-streaked blood. Well, mostly his, he figures.

But there's no cheer in his voice at that at all, and he's too tired to even go about forcing it. They've won the day, and that's all well and good. But now Calypso is free to claim the sea once more (that he finds he's less worried about than he probably should be), and yes, they've taken Beckett out of the picture, but Beckett is a symptom of a much larger problem. One he - with great futility - hopes they haven't drawn the eye of in a bigger way. It's a hard victory, and he's not entirely sure this one is exactly worth it.]

[ Captain or a not-so-innocent passenger, just minding his own business.... ]

The last ship looted was from the far east, bringing treasures from the desert to the west. However, despite all the gold and silver treasures plentiful though they were, there was one very garishly painted purple bottle that stood by itself in the Captain's quarters. The Captain had seemed extremely upset to have to give it up, but refused to say why.

[ Jaded, retired captain-turned-innkeeper. Or we can go canon routes (passenger, captain, etc), I'm easy. ]

[unintended stowaway]

[He would be an excellent navigator, but he could also be an innocent passenger ~~or possibly cargo~~.]

Edited 2016-06-17 03:39 (UTC)

[Can be a Pirate, Governor, Innocent Passenger, or just a noble. M/M for shipping/smut.]

[robin hood-esque pirate captain or freelance pirate-hunter!]

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Age of Sail

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blue sargent | the raven cycle

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Commander Lexa | The 100

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Mary Crawley | Downton Abbey

Hector Barbossa | PotC | OTA

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Jack Sparrow | Pirates of the Caribbean | OTA

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Ezio Auditore | Assassin's Creed

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Elizabeth Swann | Pirates of the Caribbean

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