Dockside Tavern - Open for business.....

[Carlotta]

The Letter

Sitting at her desk within the small office of the Dockside, she stared at the Gazette and the bold headlines. Several times she had set quill to parchment, only to toss it aside and walk away. It wasn't a matter of knowing what to write, but that in doing so, they'd know where she was. Something she had tried to hard to keep hidden.


Several weeks had passed, and once again she found herself at that desk. She had many she needed to protect, and she'd pay the price of letting her parents know where she was in order to do this.

A soft sigh before she'd put the quill to parchment and begin writting.

To the Constable of Scottland Yard,

Upon having brought to my attention the most astounding story I had ever heard, I am forced to send to you this letter of explaination. I am Carlotta Estelle Basinstoke, the very woman that the Gazette has listed as being a victim of some piracy. I know not where such a flamboyant story was created from, nor if this falsety was placed in order to gain wealth and or recognition.

I assure you that the story you have been told is quite untrue. I am fine and well, living in a kingdom known as Heathfield. I keep residence at Barrett Bay, where I'm employed as the manager of the ports upscale inn. (Of course the Dockside was far from upscale, but she'd not let them know this.).

I was not abducted as the story reads, but left on my own to leave the place that was once home. I beg you to not inform my family of where I am, but I know that you'd not do such a thing, in order to put their minds at ease, and perhaps to even follow up on this letter sent to prove it's validity.

When you see my parents, tell them I am fine and well, and that I intend to remain where I am. I am also informing you of this as well, so there will be no mistaking that this is my choice. I also ask that a retraction of that story also be made and clarification of that which was printed was nothing more than a fabrication.

Sincerally

Carlotta Estelle Basinstoke


Once the letter was written, she'd then set to the task of having it sealed and delivered to the next ship heading to London. Instructions given to have it delivered immediately to Scottland Yard upon the ships arrival. That should put an end to JD being blamed for her disappearance. Now she would have to brace herself for any actions that will now follow. The one she'd dread the most? That her parents would decide to come and try to make her return with them. Time will tell what will happen next

[JD Black]

[shadow=red,left,300] [glow=blue,2,300]Meeting of Jack Flynn

Captain of the Cruel Mistress
[/glow] [/shadow]

[shadow=black,left,300] SSDD[/shadow]

The black trousers he wore were a fair bit better, yet somehow still managed to convey their age and the harshness of the life the Irishman lived. The boots came up to mid calf, and were scratched beyond any amount of polishing. Jangling softly were the spurs he wore upon his boots, perhaps harkening back to another age.



It was at the bar's end that she sat, in deep conversation with the large burly, older man behind the bar. When the door was opened, both would glance up and conversation would halt. He glanced at her, a nod of silent communication would be shared between the two. Jim would step away and position himself, ready to serve those who entered. She retained that lean against the bar's end, the only utilization of the stool at her side, would be for foot's perch on a lower wrung. Adorned in a dark cobalt blue poets shirt, the front lacings left slack in their hold, worn beneath the form fitting vest of black satin. Cotton breeches of the same coloration of vest, conformed to curves, legs tucked into the top of tall boots, reaching just above the knee with a rounded edge over the lower portion of thigh. Scarf fashioned as a cap, as blue as the shirt worn, upon the head of thick mane of hair, a raven coloration. The intensity of those cold, dark blue oceanic depths, thinly lined by kohl would fix upon the newest entrant. Weighed and measured he'd find himself, before the third step within taken. An assessment that openly took place, in a brash manner. Features devoid of any expression, which only intensified that of eyes. A bottle set before her, three quarters empty, and a glass which was grasped in hand, having just recently been refilled. This would rise to partake of a long, sip, though open regard would continue over it's rim.



The Irishman offered a roguish smirk to Cap'n Black as she weighted and measured him. For all of an instant, dark blue eyes would be meet by the Irishman's own. A bit of weighing and measuring when on in the Irishman's eyes. When the bar was reached, the tricorn hat he wore was removed from his head and placed upon the bar's surface. For all the world it looked like a hat a navel official in the British navy would ware. It too had age. The edging from the tricorn's top was starting to become frayed, and the small bit of red, white, and blue decoration was starting to drop. There were also other disquieting features: the cloth of the hat was splattered with a reddish brown substance, harkening no doubt what fate the former owner of the had had met with. The Irishman slid his eyes to the barman, offering a bit of a nod. As he lounged against the bar, in such away he had a wall pressed against his back, one hand rested against the butt of his flint lock pistol, "A whiskey iffen ye please, an' none o' 'at Scottish swill."



Just a hint of a smirk to touch upon her own lips as that glass was lowered. "Bus'mill, Mister Jim." A hushed tone of insistence to be given the tender, then a glance back to Captain Flynn. "It should sait a discerning taste." An amused glint to briefly appear within winter cold depths. The glass held in hand lowered slightly, never to touch the bar's surface within hand's hold. "Unless ye be perferin' Potcheen. Nay many a lad can stomach such." Brow to rise ever so slightly. Either a comment in passing, or a challenge offered forth, it would all depend upon the Captain's perception.



The Irishman thought quietly, a soft smirk of his own. "Seems 'at I be havin' tasted Potcheen afore in another port." A soft nod of his head given to Jim, all it would take to change his order, "Dae nae be recalin' where. Thar about 'Eathfield er somethin'." The Irishman shrugged his shoulders. "One tae many ports agao fer me ta be rememberin' clearly. That er its tha booze." Or the touch of hulk fever that put a light in his eyes."From tha cut o' ye, I be sayin' 'at ye are a cap'n. "



Don't mind that chortle, she just couldn't help it. "Ye been deep in ye cups, Capt'n?" Amused glint to appear a bit brighter. "Ye be in a port o' 'S'arks Bay now, t'is be, a principality o' Black Jade Skull Islands." A nod to be offered in response to the last. " 'bout as much as I b' sayin' t' same o' ye."



The Irishman gave a laugh of his own, "'Aven't ye noticed? I'm Irish, an' therefore always in me cups." The information was taken with a nod, and a mental note to mark out Sharks Bay upon his charts, "Aye, true 'nough. I be Jack Flynn, Cap'n o' tha Cruel Mistress." And a hand was extended to her.



A moment to study that extended hand, as if inspecting it for anything hidden, before her own would reach out. Palm heavily calloused, proof of years of rope work, the surface of the back severely scarred. It looked as if someone melted wax over it and it immediately dried. "JD b' me name. I own t'is 'ere place ye in now." A nod of her head to indicate the tavern. "As well as a nuther 'pon a nuther o' t'ese 'ere isles. As well as captain o' t' Swan 'n her sisters." Indicating more than one ship under her command. A firm grip given of his hand, before her's would release it's hold and draw back.



"Pleasure ta be makin' yer audience," And the Irishman smirked, "Ne'er pegged yer fer a commodore, tho." And his eyes did slowly did take in the tavern, "A fine bit o' land 'at ye got fer yerself. How it be daein' ye?"



"Commodore b' 'n official title, Capt'n Flynn. T'ere b' nay 'nyt'ing offical 'bout me." Low throaty chuckle as she rested back. "I call it a firm investment." Not to mention a very clever front. "I' b' doin' well 'nuff. C'n be payin' me staff well 'nuff, 'n keep 'er well stocked wit' substance 'n patron alike." Glass now on the rise, finishing off what was contained within. Once done, it would be set upon the bar, the bottle there after snagged up in hand, to immediately refill it before being set aside. "W'ot be bringin' t' t'ese 'ere parts, Capt'n?"



"Tha ocean wind an' tha currents," The Irishman shrugged. The next round for both of their drinks were one his own, and as a toast he said, "'Ere ta those 'at knae tha true meanin' o' a ship." Then a bit of his Potcheen was consumed. He suspected as much, was a bit bright to than go mucking about in her territory. After all, while the Cruel Mistress was a forty-two gunner, she'd be no match in a fight against two ships.



"Ay, t' t'at I b' drinkin'." Her own glass on the rise to take a healthy swig. Not that she needed much urging, in which to drink. She may not be Irish, but she held the taste for drink as well as they, or even the Danes, and Norse.When the glass lowered, those wintry depths would rise to settle upon him. " 'ow long ye be intendin' on b'in 'bout?" Not that she was a busy body, but she viewed all Captain's as competition or possible prey.



"I knae the length o' me welcome," The Irishman said. A subtle way of saying he had no desire to be poaching her pray, or having to tangle with her impressive ships. "Be makin' me rounds ta tha ports, seein' whats ta be seen an' such. Nae much else. Might be taken a 'ome port, just cannae be sayin' just yet."



"Ye b' cartin' nyt'ing special? 'R jest a merchant s'ip?" Delving further in that questioning of hers. She could carry off it being out of genuine curiosity, or to fill conversation with. Ulterior motives, always the drive beneath that thick mane of raven hue. "Tend t' passengers now 'n t'en?" The glass again on the rise to taken another healthy drink.



The Irishman smirked, "'Bout as much a merchant as ye are. When tha swag is low, I dae take a few passengers (read: hostages) now an' again an' a bit o' cargo haulin' (read: smuggling)."



That smirk of his spoke volumes and offered perfect interpretation of that said. " 'Ard werk we tend t', yet profitable 'n evra way." Stated as that glass lowered to rest before her. "Jest got back frem a profitable voyage..." It was then she'd ponder for a moment, and again she'd speak. "...'ad a queer run 'n tae, we did..." Leaning forward on the bar a bit, as she prepared to impart the next tid bit of information, though his features to be that which she'd focus upon, and those eyes of his. "...'n d' wake o' a storm, waves t'at nearly carried bot' me s'ips t' a watery grave. Out o' the fog came a most peculiar sight." Features took on a serious note. " ...A s'ip, bu' nay jest 'ny s'ip. T'is one glowed a color as red as blood, she did. T'ere 'n gone in a blink o' 'n eye." Slowly shook her head and rested back. "Lost a few goot men ova t'at." Good hell, cowards they were. As soon as land was reached, they grabbed their sacks and departed the ship, as if the devil himself was hot on their tails.



Did she see the Irishman's eyes roll and storm with mentioning of the sea's storm. Yet there was a weariness to them, one that showed every sailor's fear of the unknown. Not even he would murmur the name of the ship that he dared even hint at, "Be thinkin' a ship lost roun' tha 'Orn?" Aye, the Dutchman. Never would the Irishman say it, or other superstitions native to his own sod. Such as the true name of the Fairy Folke and the Queen of the Sea.



Just the slightest rise of shoulders in a shrug. "I b' nay sure, t' b' true. Tho, I intend t' searc' i' out, 'n s'ow i' b' nay t' fear." A hardness to over take her features. "I' b' skeerin' t' men frem takin' position out t' sea, wit' t' rumors o' i' bein' out t'ere. Bad fer me business. I kinnay stand by 'n let t'is 'appen." Glass lifted in a form of salute, to show she was meaning business. A drink taken before it was heavily set back upon the bar. "Rumor 'as i', i' b' a ghost. I b' sayin' i' a ruse, wit' a vera smert Capt'n at t' 'elm."



The Irishman, who knew well the bean-shied's wail and the baying of the wild hunt said, "There be thin'n's at dae gae beyond tha keen o' us mortals. Careful in what ye meddel wit', least ye nae understand what eye seek." For a moment, the Irishman was quiet, thinking over the tale of the Dutchman and this new stroy, "Iffen it be a cle'er captain, I be pitchin' in me Mistress iffen ya be needin' tha extra guns an' powder."



"Ay ye b' sayin'." A throaty chortle to sound as she leaned back slightly. Arms rose to cross over the swell of chest, head tipped to the side, whilst those cold dark blues, would again openly assess the man; now closer than the first time. "I ken many a bloke b' speakin' o' fears founded afta a jug o' good rum t'." Bit more of a smirk to form. "I b' intendin' t' b' boardin' t'is 'ere .....ghost." Lack of fear, or ignorance to the tale, perhaps both would be exhibited here. "Iffen i' b' a cleve' Capt'n, I b' a willin' t' wager a sac' o' gold, he b' 'avin' more 'n one s'ip at 'is command. Man power' 'n t'at o' guns, b' a roight useful t'ing t' 'ave a' mea disposal."

*"Half o' tha plunder iffin' it be a cle'er Capt'n?" If it really was the Dutchman, he had no doubt they'd probably end up cooking in Hell.



A moment taken in consideration. "One-t'ird. I b' riskin' two s'ips t' ye one. I' only b' fair 'n t'at. Nae t' mention two s'ips o' men to consider."

"One-t'ird, plus tha guns, shot, an' powder 'at tha ship be carryin' -- barin' we send it ta tha bottom."



Glass lifted and a drink taken as the offer was considered. Soon it'd lower to rest upon the bar's surface. "One-t'ird o' t' plunder, 'alf t' guns 'n one-t'ird t' powder, plus ye get t' keep 'ny wenc'es 'board fer ye 'n ye crew." Sounded reasonable, the Inn was almost filled to capacity on the number of sleepers she could house.

"One-t'rid o' tha plunder, 'aft tha guns, 't'ird o' tha powder, an' all tha ye be gettin' a t'ird o' tha provessons."



To that she could agree, since both her ships would carry enough provisions for all. Hand to release it's hold about that glass and offer it forth. "Ay, a 'ard bargin' ye b' makin' Capt'n, I fin' meself bucklin' t' ye way." A bit of a smirk to touch upon her lips. "Ye 'ave yese'f a deal." Though she's spit upon the palm that would be awaiting his grasp.

And a hand extend as well, but only after he too had spat in his palm. Then the hands would be shaken, and the bargain struck.



Taking up the bottle, once hands released, both their glasses would be filled. "A drin' t' findin' t' Devil o' the Sea." What she'd moniker the glowing vessel. How many times had she heard it refered to as the Ship of the Dead? Enough that it made her chuckle, after all, there were several names moniker' d her ships and crew, not to forget those of herself.

The Irishman shook his head ruefully, "'Ere ta be beatin' tha Devil 'at 'is own game, aye?"



A throaty chortle. "I intend t' dance wit' t' devil beneat' t' pale moon light, Capt'n Flynn." A wink to be directed his way, the glass then lifted to take a good swig of the contents.

"'Ell, might as well be fiddlin' ye tha tune ta dance tae," The Irishman said. Give him some credit, he thought about making a crack about dancing with her would get him smacked.



Glass lowered and a smirk to form. "A lively tune it's t' b' too. I intend t' make 'im d' t' jig." Daring? Quite. For good reason too.

"As lively as I can be makin' it." The Irishman studied a bit,his mind wandering just a bit to things that would no doubt get him trounced if he asked. Best to put out of his mind, a shake of his head given.



A nod to that. It was then she'd stand from that lean against the bar. "Sin' we b' in business t'geter. Ye 'n ye crew 'ave access to t' rooms above, ...." A bit of a grin. "..lass's b' a costin' a few coin tho." Another chortle. "A goot meal t' b' found 'ere. Frenchy 'as a talent ...." Smirking now. "Jest dun bend ova befer 'im." Sound advice there. Two fingered salute. "I b' seein' ye 'round." All the forewarning he'd get, before she'd turn, that tell tale sauntering swagger set into motion, would carry her directly to her office, and behind it's door she'd disappear.

[JD Black]

[shadow=red,left,300] [glow=blue,2,300]'The Pirate and the Bounty Hunter'
[/glow] [/shadow]

[shadow=black,left,300] SSDD[/shadow]

The door to the dockside tavern swung open, the long strides of the tall bounty hunter strolled on through the doorway. That steel blue gaze of his searched the faces of each person in the place, the few that were in the joint tonight. Behind him billowed a long swede coat; swept out, with the quick pace of his steps. He was on a mission tonight.

It would be at her usual table, the one which sat upon the raised platform to over look the entire room, that she sat. As per usual when in public at the Dockside, her appearance was not like that of aboard ship.
Adorned in a cobalt blue colored gown of silk make, one of the newer fashions made in France. The plunging neckline offered viewing of ample swell and depth of cleavage. Long dark hair was brushed to a satiny shine, permitted to fall freely over shoulders, though at the moment it was drawn to one side.
Her head bent forward as she read over one of the parchments that sat upon a stack others, along with several ledgers. Hands were lifted, so that fingers could slowly massage temples. Not paying attention to the few milling patrons, as all focus was upon the paperwork before her.

She was there, just like he'd hoped, sitting behind a desk piled high with papers. Raine stepped up onto the platform and walked to the side of the desk, taking up a casual lean beside her. He looked over the mounds of paperwork that cluttered up the top of the desk. "You look as pretty as ever dove. Pity that you're wasting away, holed up inside of this place." He trained his glance back to her face, half smiling, half smirking.

A brow rose as did the intensity of those dark blue oceanic depths. A bit of a smirk to rest upon her lips. "Well, well, look what the cat drug in. It's been quite some time.
Sitting back as her hands lowered from rubbing those temples and a chuckle to sound. "Out on the town? With all this work crying out for my attention?" Hand to indicate the stacks of papers and ledgers alike. Manifests, inventory sheets, ledger of cliental staying at the Inn, and those who visited the hourly rooms. Her gaze would meet his. "So what do you propose I do?"

His brow would raise, shift a little up and down as he smiled one of those boyish, dashing ones of his. He stood up and reached a hand out to her. "You didn't think I'd stay away from such a beauty, now did you dove?" As to what she should do, he was quick to answer there, too. "Gotta take you out of here. Just a little break." Suddenly he snapped his fingers and pressed a hand to his chest. "Why in fact. I'm free." That smile kept stretching. "How 'bout it dove?"

A chuckle as her hand moved to settle upon his offered. "Very well, how can I argue a point such as that?" A glance towards Jim, working hard behind the counter. "Jim, see that these papers end up back in my office." A direct order, yet harshness need not be added, she knew the man would do as she bid. Looking back to Raine as she stood from her seat. "Seems my evening just became open."

His gaze followed hers to the man, the tone of her voice well noted. When she stood from the chair, he turned back to her, smiling again. "What luck." He chimed in and took her carefully by the hand. Raine stepped down from the platform, carefully guiding her, as he turned around so he could escort her out of the tavern.

A glance back towards Jim, a look is all that was needed to share her thoughts as to what she expected him to do, followed by a glance towards the table, then back. He would find some instructions written on a parchment there. This took not long, and focus was back upon Raine. "So what plans do you have for me?" Walking at his side as he escorted her out of the tavern proper.

Raine opened the door, letting her step out first, then followed promptly behind, catching up and taking her gently by the arm. "Oh, let's see. A night to paint the town red. Swoon my favorite dove and keep her giddy, laughing and unsuspecting." He quietly murmured. Down the street he'd escort her, turning the corner near an alleyway to head towards the main part of town, a little more upscale.

That had a brow to rise as she glanced over at him. "To swoon me?" That caused a throaty chuckle to sound. "I don't swoon easily Mister Raine, and I haven't been giddy since I was but a slip of a girl." A glimmer of amusement to touch the cold depths of dark blue. "Laughing? You accomplish that quite readily, just as you did now." Touch of a smirk to rest upon her lips. With almost what one could consider regal, would be the way she carried herself as she moved. Gone was the sauntering swagger of normal motion, though there was a hint of that swagger that just couldn't be kept at bay.

Raine stopped beside a dark building, turning to face her. Slow, cautious steps would bring him up next to her. "Oh I don't know." He said softly, a hand reaching out to cup underneath her chin and lift it. He turned her face from side to side, inspecting her. "You seem a bit swooned to me now, dove." That voice of his lowering. His face came in beside her ear, lips warmly brushing like a whisper.
"Makes me wonder, JD. What happened to that dockside accent you first had." He dipped his head down, sweeping the warmth of his lips along and just behind her ear for a moment.

She'd watch his every move. So still she stood as he cupped her chin. Though the side to side inspection would gain him another chuckle. It was then he spoke of the change, having been gone so long, she forgot what ruse she used when meeting whom. That did cause that smile to waver slightly, only to regain herself and keep it in full. "I guess it comes and goes, like the tide. Depending on whom I'm exposed to the most on that day."
A good enough excuse. So she'd think. When he placed the kiss, her head would draw back slightly, to turn and gaze upon him. "Besides, it wouldn't be proper for a business woman to present herself as anything less, no?"

His lips would pause, pulling back just a bit so he could meet her gaze. Raine smiled at her, but it was more of a knowing smile. "It that what it is?" He mused, nodding some, then went back to work. In he came, with lips trailing along her jawline and rounding up until they hovered above hers.
"I would have guessed it was because you're leading a double life." He kissed her fully on the mouth then, capturing her in momentary silence with a kiss of heated, pent up passion. His one hand lifted to cup the side of her face, fingers tracing in to lift the locks of dark hair off her shoulder.

Her gaze met his as he pulled back. When he moved close once more, her hands would rise to rest upon his chest. Light pressure applied, not enough to push him away, but it'd not allow him to come much closer than he already was. The comment about the double life would effect her within, but outwardly, no reaction would be gained. Just as she was about to retort, her lips were captured by his. This was something she wasn't prepared for, taking her by surprise.
The first urge was to straighten her arms and push him clear away. What halted that action, and had her returning his kiss, would be something she'd dwell upon later. Perhaps it was a need of her own, then again, it could be a part of the game.

As Raine heated up that kiss, his hand reached into the pocket of his coat, there was a light ruffling sound of paper being removed and held in his free hand. He stroked her lips with his tongue, once, twice, then parted them gently and laved her mouth thoroughly. His mouth moved onward towards her temple, then to her ear.
"Open your eyes, dove." He whispered through a thick voice.

Soon lips parted, and she'd feel the heat of his lips and breath upon her skin. The sound of paper would awaken curiosity, for sure. Slowly those eyes would open, first gazing upon him, before shifting their focus to seek out the rattles source. Then back up at him her attention returned, with a questioning rise of that brow. No words would be necessary.

As he watched her gaze shift away from his eyes to the paper he held up, the moonlight spilling down into the alley way just enough to see what he held, he spoke again. "I've been thinking about you for a very long time now, dove." His gaze would shift with hers to the paybill he held in his hand. It was a reward note for 50,000 lbs. for the capture of one notorious Captain JD Black.
"Who would have ever thought that Captain Black could have been a woman? I could still be wrong, but I don't think I am. Do you, JD?" He held her pinned underneath that steel gaze, but it wasn't harden, more searching...and something else. His gaze shifted back to her face.
"It took me a long time to put the pieces together."

When she realized what he had, she'd turn into a rigid frame of steel. A brow to rise as her gaze would shift to the playbill then back up at him. "Who ever would have thought. Now tell me Mister Raine, do I seem the type of person who could be responsible for the crimes listed there?"
She'd meet his gaze fully, her expression to be void of any thoughts or reaction. The intensity of those dark blues, to meet steel. Trying to read him the best she possibly could. She was placed in a position she wasn't liking. Thoughts did rush through her mind as various scenario's played out, in case a response would be needed.

He leaned back from her, stuffing the paybill back into his coat pocket, but his gaze remained fixed on her. Then he laughed, boldly. "Actually, JD. Yes, you do. And you do it so well, that who would ever guess that Captain Black was a woman? Certainly not the crown of England. Why those pompous asses couldn't find their way out of a hole with shovels." He studied her demeanor, noting she seemed guarded though she tried to remain cool and aloof.
"But I'm not English, nor do I work for the crown. I'm a Bounty Hunter, JD. It's my job to hunt down wanted criminals for their reward and turn them in. Dead or Alive." He said with a smoothness in his voice. He fiddled with something in another pocket and pulled out a document.
"Then again, I might have a solution to your problem. That is, unless you wish to keep denying the fact that I'm probably right." Steel eyes trained on her to watch for that reaction, another denial.

"A solution?" She'd watch as he extracted another document. "Tell me Mister Raine, what solution have you found?" No denial, yet no admittance either. For too long she had been the fox in the game, the one which always out smarted the hunters. She'd hear him out, she'd give him that. She didn't detest bounty hunters, they lived their lives in much the same way she did, under the guidelines of the law. In many ways they were alike, just as in many they differ.

So, she was willing to at least listen, instead of protesting further from what he perceived to be the truth. So Raine handed her the document. Then waited. For her to either laugh at him, slap him in the face, or run a dagger into his heart. He'd had worse things happen to him. Couldn't think of any at the moment though.
"Just one to hide your identity under better circumstances. If I was able to finally figure out who you are, then others will eventually too." He explained, though there were other reasons he didn't mention at the moment.

She'd accept the document, then take several steps away, to pause beneath an area where there was more light to read what was given. She just stood there staring at it, then slowly her eyes would rise to settle upon him. Surprised? You're d**ned right she was. Holding the document out towards him.
"You want me to marry you?" Talk about the last thing she ever expected, and this was it.
"What's the catch? There's got to be some reasoning behind this." Trusting? Hell no, not when it had to do with a man.

Raine raked a hand through his hair and took a step towards her, gently removing the document from her fingers as he slipped it back into the pocket of his coat. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Just take it at face value that I want to help you out." After the document was safely back in the pocket of his coat, he looked up into her eyes.

[JD Black]

[shadow=red,left,300] [glow=blue,2,300]The Pirate and the Bounty Hunter [/glow] [/shadow]

[shadow=black,left,300] SSDD[/shadow]

"I could have tried to take you in JD. Though I'm sure with the reputation you carry and if it holds true to it's weight, it would be no easy feat." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "But after learning this and who you were." He sighed and tipped his face up towards the moonlight sky.
"Ah, hell. What's the fun of that?" Raine simply didn't go after women...and especially not this one.

She just stood there looking at him, as if he'd turned into something right before her eyes. "So, if I refuse, you take me in and collect the bounty offered..." More a statement than a question, he was right on many counts. Others had figured out whom she was, but had gone before they could blow her cover.
"...If I say yes, then you intend to protect me with your name ... for how long, Raine? ...How long do you intend this ruse to last?" This would be the closest he'd get to a confirmation that he had figured it out, and she was whom he thought she was.

Black mail? He hadn't thought of that. d**n himself too! If Raine told her that he was smitten with her, she'd never believe him. So he didn't bring it up. She was considering it; there was a possibility. "As long as it's needed." He said, taking a step near her once again. Carefully he reached up and cupped the side of her face with his hand.
"It's a good plan, JD. If you just look past the papers. Who'd suspect then?" The Bounty Hunter was scheming again, but for a different cause. If she needed to think he'd turn her in, maybe that would work for him. So he let it hang there for a moment to await her answer.

She was up a creek without a paddle, or so was her way of thinking. Bounty hunters weren't mindless buffoons. They were cunning and skilled hunters, their prey the most vicious beasts of humanity to ever walk. She should know, for she was the very nature of that beast. Yet, his idea was plausible, and if need be, she could gain her freedom, as she had from many cells in the past.
"It seems my choices are slim. Of course, I could just call you on it and battle it out. There's as much of a chance that I'd survive, as not." Then there was the matter of Carly, what help would she be to the lass if she were imprisoned or dead. She had unfinished business, and this would allow her to see it through.
"Very well, Raine. I'll let you have this victory. I accept your proposal, but with strict stipulations." Again those dark blues would meet his gaze of steel. "You don't get in my way of things that I need to do." Keep it vague as to what that was, and it would give her free rein to continue on.

So she was considering it. Raine held back that grin, schooling his features. "True, we could battle this out. But I don't want to harm you JD." He paused. "Nor do I wish to die by your blade." He joked. Then for that sinker.
"Plus ...." Nevermind the plus. She just agreed. "Deal." He simply said and extended his hand. "Umm..." No, he'd wait to ask if there'd be a wedding night. She'd likely deck him if he brought that up now. The Bounty Hunter would actually have to work this one to earn the woman's trust.

It was with some hesitation, then her hand would rise to clasp his in a firm hold. The heavily calloused and scarred appendage had a strength that proved she could hold her own if necessary. "Ay, deal." It was then she met his gaze once more. "My ships are mine alone, I'll tell you that now. If you try to lay claim, our agreement is nullified and I will fight you Raine."

He could have laughed, but he didn't. Her hand was held in his and he looked down, noting the scars and callouses. "I don't want your bloody ships, JD." He quietly said, running his fingers smoothly along each scar. "I have my horse, Leopold." He was as passionate about the Andalusian horse as she was about her ships.
"Besides, I'm rich." He quietly added in. Then took her hand to run along the scars on his own hand, he had more, hidden underneath his clothing. Raine lifted her hand to his lips and kissed several of the rough spots on her skin, then stepped in and recaptured her mouth, kissing her once more. She tasted his flavor, rich and male and exciting. His tongue was in her mouth again, giving her his honeyed taste, he released her hand and slipped his about her small waist. His idea of sealing this deal, better through a kiss.

Again he completely amazed and surprised her, more by the tenderness being exhibited. If he was trying to keep her unsteady, he was doing a d**n good job of it. Those of dark, met that of steel blue once more, just as he moved in for the claim of her lips. Few men could hold claim to being able to touch her in the manner that he did. Most of those, no longer lived to be able to hold bragging rights; she seen to that. Though she had to admit, she could have done worse and been placed in a rougher situation.
This one was at least workable. Yet there was something that had laid dormant within, and as much as she fought to keep it there, it kept trying to awaken. The kiss being shared was being a big part of that. Mister Raine was in for a very big surprise of his own. He may have figured out whom she was, but he knew her not.
There was another secret that she held, maybe he'd learn that too, maybe not. Being drawn closer to him with that hold about her waist, her hands would rise and settle upon the width of shoulders. A silent minuet would be that in which tongues would dance. Just as she tasted him, he would her. Whiskey, a hint of vanilla that came not from drink. It's sweetness still upon her lips from the smoke she had enjoyed prior to his arrival.

God she tasted wonderful, the bounty hunter relished the moment as it lasted. His hands would moved up, cupping her at the back of her head as he tipped her face up at a better angle. His lips ravished her mouth, the center and to each corner. He trailed a slow, path to her eyelids and then against her temple. He liked how she tasted, enjoyed that she sought the same pleasure in things he did. He could taste the sweet smokes on her lips, that and other delicious things. His eyes opened and he whispered to her.
"Tell me your first name JD." Came his request, the first of two, he'd be asking her.

Now, deep down, she is a full blooded woman, and who wouldn't be moved in some small part by what was shared? Decades of denial might very well be catching up with her. Then his lips left hers, to touch upon places never before kissed. None could ever claim intimacy with the Reaper of the Sea.
When she heard his request, slowly her eyes would open to look up at him. A long pause in silence, as she mulled over if she should, or give one of the many alliances she held claim to. After a moment, her mind was made up. There was always a chance that he could very well turn out to be an alia.
"Jacquotte.." The name would also give the basis of part of her heritage. None would ever had guessed that the infamous Captain Black had French connections.

"Jacquotte." He softly repeated. The name suited her and he liked it. The bounty hunter smiled down at her, nodding once. "We'll keep that between us. For now I'll refer to you as JD...or dove." His personal preference for her. "I do request this of you though. I'll stay out of your way and how you do business. I'm not here to change that or what you are, but I do ask that you let me watch your back."
Raine knew he'd have to earn her trust. Maybe in time she'd reveal the real identity behind who Captain Black really was. The pad of his thumb swept slowly along her cheek, to the very corner of her mouth.

She searched his eyes, for any tell tale signs, that this was a ruse being used to entrap her. "Good, few know my given name. I prefer to keep it that way." For good reason, past ties were best left broken. The anagram of her name did help to keep it buried. Then the request, it would have a brow to rise slightly.
"I have plenty who watch my back, Raine, just as I watch their." A moment longer she'd search his eyes, for any hint of ulterior motives to be give away. "Very well, if that's what you want. It wouldn't be a very good performance if we steered clear of each other all the time." A bit of a smirk to appear.
"We do have to be convincing, don't we." In a sense, this could be a very enjoyable game. Imagine the looks on many faces when they get wind of this tale. What a whopper!

"But they aren't bounty hunters." He'd argue his point. His motives were clear cut. To protect her, especially from others like himself. "No, the ruse we're creating has to be believable." Maybe in time, even to each other.
"Now, how should we go about this? Just blow everyone's minds and announce that Miss Black has eloped? Or would you prefer a swift, whirlwind courtship?" That boyish grin came into play.

"A courtship?" She nearly blanched at the thought. "I won't act like some young pup all starry eyed. None would ever believe that, who know me." She'd pause a moment in thought.
"I think a few times being seen together, then a quick elopement will be just fine. I know plenty of sea captains that can tend to the matter." A wry smile to appear. "Could even do it on the Swan, wouldn't that be monumental." To that she had to chuckle, her men were going to freak. Of that she could be sure.

Raine just had to joke here. He leaned back from her a little and brushed his knuckles against his chest. "Yah, I am rather dashing and all. They'd buy it that I simply swept you off your feet and talked you into eloping too."
He'd give her a wink then sound with laughter at the notion of marrying on the deck of the Black Swan. "Sounds perfect to me, dove." He quieted after that, thinking. "Guess we better get you back to the tavern. Make plans for a date with me tomorrow night, to be seen out in public again, okay?"


"A date!?!" Now this would be a first. Business meetings a plenty she's had. Then setting up dinners and outings in which to pull off a ruse. Though this was different, the Captain had finally sailed into uncharted waters.
"Tomorrow night. Yes, right." Her thoughts were running a million miles a minute. "Alright. You can find me at the Dockside." A brow rose slightly. "How should I dress?" Since he was making the plans and all.

He slipped his arm about her waist, grinning to being witness to her acting like a young female on her first date. "Wear a pretty dress, though I like you just as well in those tight breeches you sport, too. I'll take you out to dinner and dancing." That should stir things up a bit.

That gained him a throaty chuckle. "Very well, I'll wear my breeches beneath my skirt, how's that?" Head tilted slightly as a smirk would form upon her lips. "That way you can have them both."
She'd make light of the situation, there was little else she'd be able to do. Though she would ponder on just how far this would go, and what would be expected of her. Thoughts that wouldn't be voiced at the moment, they'd come in time as things changed.

d**n he liked her spirit. He just grinned, escorting her back to the front of the tavern. When someone was passing by, Raine stopped her there on the porch and pulled her in for a goodnight kiss. Letting it linger long enough for those watching eyes to bare witness to the bounty hunter kissing the captain. Once they began to move on again, Raine pulled away and looked down at her.
"Now, go inside and make a little fuse, not overly, about enjoying a night out and the freedom to just relax. Get them wondering about this man making a fool of himself over you." He gave her a light pat to her rump, flicked a wink at her, then turned to stroll off.
"I'll see you tomorrow night, dove. Eight o'clock sharp." Then the bounty hunter headed off down the street until the shadows swallowed up his form.

"Make a fuss? Me?" That had her laughing, the man definitely didn't know her very well. The questions asked were not meant to be answered.
"Eight O'clock it is." She'd watch as he turned to walk away, she'd then turn to enter the tavern. She couldn't help that smirk that was upon her lips. This could prove to be interesting.
Never before had she attempted something of this magnitude. The cutting edge, and perhaps as dangerous as any other encounter she's faced. For the man was most definitely dangerous, he knew too much. Knowledge at times could be a person's best weapon, and for the moment he had her out gunned.

[JD Black]

[shadow=red,left,300] [glow=blue,2,300]Gather the Masses

[/glow] [/shadow]

[shadow=black,left,300] SSDD[/shadow]

Business had brought her to the Port of Shark Island, and
one of her business ventures the Dockside Tavern. Business now concluded, it
was time for leisure and relaxation. It would be her personal table that she
now relaxed at, a would be towards the back, near the center of the table
that she rested, with feet kicked up on the chair at her side. A bottle of
Bushmill whiskey sat on the table before her half full, along with a glass
that was held in hand, of equal amount within. Adorned in a cobalt blue poets
shirt, worn beneath a black vest that was created with a soft leather and
satin. Black breeches hugged that lower portion, what was able to be seen and
not covered by boots that curved just above the knees, covering the lower portion of
toned thighs. Long dark hair fell freely, although a hankerchief worn as a
skull cap was tied atop her head. While the servers moved about cleaning the
place, she was busy pelting them with occassional tosses of peanuts gained
from a bowl upon her table. Not making an undue mess for the girls to clean
up, but for target practice, and the girls were giving back as well as
receiving, for she would get afew peanuts tossed back in her direction, which caused her
to snicker in amusement.

It was with a thingyy smirk, that a rather familiar figure
made his way toward the Dockside Tavern. The smirk turned into a faint grin,
as he filched an apple from a street vendor's stall. The bright red apple
was polished against a course homespun shirt whose color had long since been
drained by the hard life upon sea. A frock of dark blue, one of the elbows
patched with sail cloth, again showed the hard life the pirate captain had
lived. While there was the typical rolling gate of a sailor was marked by a knee
never to bend due to a musketball's path. The Irishman's steps were marked
by the soft jangling of spurs were soon heard upon the floor boards of the
tavern as he made hisway with the familiar dockside dive. It was a dive like
all the other's he'd seen. Yet, as he went to belly up at the bar, he saw a
familiar sight. The footsteps changed course, and J.D. would know an old
salt had returned with the words, "Well, well, iffen it is nae tha nefarious
Cap'n J.D. Black. Are ye still a good kisser?"

Oceanic depths would follow that familiar swagger when it
entered. Their intensity to never leave the form as it passed by her,
oblivious at first of her presence. It would be when he turned to gaze upon
her that thingyy smirk would form upon lips. A peanut that had been intended for the
passing server would change direction. Even the hard working Veronica would
chuckle when she noticed the intended victim of the Captain which employed
them all. Upward arch, where it would hit would depend upon the action in which
the good ole sea salt would take. "I bae a t'inkin' mae bite b'better n'mae
kiss Capt'n Flynn." Oh yes, she recognized the man who approached, and since
there were plenty of seats that surrounded her private table, she'd maintain
that comfortable position in which she sat. No easy access made to her from
behind or before, so he'd not be claiming her lips with any ease to find out,
which even amused her all the more. "T'w'at curse d'wae owe yae presence n'our
'umbled establishment Capt'n Flynn?" Smirk grew all the more as did that
glimmer of amusement within those dark blue eyes.

d**ned bloody bastard! ::He yelled over his shoulder as he
made his way down the docks from the local general store.:: Blasted piracy!
Near double wha' I 'ad t'pay las' time! ::It was obvious he wasn't actually
talking to anyone, hewas simply venting his rage after recieving what he
thought was a poor deal on the supplies he purchased to be loaded on his
ship.:: Labor fees my arse! Lucky I didn' jus' slit th'bastards throat where
he bloody stood! ::He shook a balled fist in the air before he finally settled
some, seeing the tavern ahead of him. With a shoulder the grey bearded sailor
shoved open the door, stepping inside and straight to the bar, saying nothing
more then a low grumble as he passed the others. Slapping a open hand down
on the bartop he eyed the tender behind a moment before he lightly spoke.::
Scotch, an' make it quick.

"Tha curse o' a sailor," The Irishman said, "Ta 'ave no
'ome save tha sea." A chair would be pulled out, and the Irishman dropped
into a chair across from her. His feet joined J.D.'s upon the table, as he
took another bite out of his ill-gotten apple. There was a smirk given to her, and
around a mouthful of apples, "An' what curse is it, Cap'n Black, that sees ye
ashore?"

How could she not hear the rant and ravings of Black Dogg?
The man was anything but quiet or demure. Smirk grew a bit more, although
attention deviated not from the sea captain that now sat across from her.
"Business o'course m'matey. Udderwise I'd bae enjoyin' d'salt o'dae sea 'pon
mae face." Smirk took on an uneven twist as one side of her mouth drew up
more than the other. A glance cast in Dunlap's direction. "Bae nice t'Ronica
t'ere Mister Dunlap. Shae been ken t'bae spittin' n'yae drink iffen yae bae a
snippin' at 'er." Light chuckle as that glass was lifted to finish off it's
contents. A lean to snag her bottle and set to the task of refilling it.
Resting back upon that seat, Jack would gain her attention next. "Sae w'ot bae
yae reasonin' fer bein' 'ere?" Free hand rose to indicate not so much the
tavern he was in, but the Islands themselves. "Lost?"

"Heh, better than Tortuga," The Irishman said with a
devilish grin. Then he laughed softly, "I could be sayin' tha I 'ave come to
be wooin' ye away from yer lordly love. But, I knae tha tis nae possible.
I've swag ta unload an' weatherin' port to make. Side from tha, this is purely
pleasure."

Bah! ::He never was much of a fan of spit in his scotch,
but it all went down the same, eh? Narrowed eyes glanced over his shoulder at
JD, attempting to hold back a small smile.:: Was chasin' a blasted spanish
cargo ship.. ::He eyed the man with JD, his face not familiar, but he assumed
since he sat at JD's table he was.. good people.:: Nearly 'ad th'bastard
after a couple days o' good chase, then t'was all fo' no' when we los' 'er in
a blasted storm. 'Ere be the closest port so I decided t'stop an' resupply an' give
the gents some time t'spend a few coin. ::He nodded to the tendress as she
brough his scotch, hopefully spit free, he did not bother looking and quick
tipped back the mug, downing a few gulps before loweing it, satisfied. He now
turned to face the others, leaning his back against the bar.::


"Pleasure yae bae a sayin'." Brows rose just a tad. "T'ere
bae plenty t'bae 'n offerin' t'ere." Indicating the upper level of the
tavern, more the rooms which were there. "Two silver n'hour, some o'dae best
leg yae'll find fer 'undreds o'miles." Of course being in the middle of the
ocean did guarantee that fact. "At least dae cleanest, t'at I kin guarantee."
Emphatic nod to accompany words. When Dunlap spoke, full attention turned
back upon him. Listening as he spoke of the latest business venture. Brows to now
furrow in thought, head to cant slightly to the right. "Hmm. Guess we'll be
'avin' tae take on two t'make up fer dae one t'at got away." Nonchalantly
stated. It was just the Spanish Main after all. They've contended with them
sevreral times before, always catching them with their pants down. At least
that's how they were left, just the very thought did give her a thoughtful
glow in a smile. Once the moment of daydream passed, it'd be upon Jack attention now
turned. "Bae yae Cruel Mistress still sailin' strong?" It wasn't uncommon for
those in their line of work to lose a ship, although it would be quickly
replaced out at sea. Not uncommon to find a ship just floating about, awaiting
their talents to sail her away.

"Aye, tha Cruel Mistress be sailin' strong. 'Ave nae yet
gotten ta the point o' numberin' me ships, unlike some captains I can be
namin'," The Irishman said. There was a rueful smile sent to J.D., then he
laughed, "Why? Ye lookin' ta be gettin' a bit 'at an' style yerself a commadore?"
The Irishman was only half-joking, when it came to that. He thought enough
of J.D.'s ability as a captain to sail under her command -- so long, as
always, he was granted a bit of freedom to plunder what he saw fit and when. "An'
if sae, what percentage o' me haul ya be after?"

I jus' b'prayin' the sea finished th'job.. she don' look
t'kindly 'pon bloody cowards. Blasted spanish.. th'be too concerned wit'
lookin' like a lass then 'avin' a spine when it comes t'facing danger. ::He
nodded in agreement with himself before he took another long gulp of the scotch.::
An' d'no' worry 'bout business. ::He grinned largely:: I'll get ye three
t'make up for the loss. ::He laughed and finished off his mug, setting it
behind him.:: Tendress, another... please. ::He forced a smile::

She always suspected Jack had a bit of a brain, his
perception did indeed strengthen her thought on this fact. "Twenty n'five
percent iffen yae bae a usin' mae isles t'off yae goods. Fourty percent iffen
yae bae a usin' mae ladies n'crew t'bae a backin' yae arse up!" Ocean blues would
settle upon the Captain of the Cruel Mistress. "In return, yae 'ave full
access t'dae dry docks fer repairs 'n a 'aven fer yae n'yae crew." Glance
over to Dunlap and she'd just grin. "I 'ave faith yae will Mister Dunlap, grand faith
indeed." Proof in her trust in the man was the very ship in which he stood at
the helm. Her right hand man, so to speak, more important than her very own
first mate. He held control over one her private ships, which paid him
handsomely, he couldn't balk at that. Glass lifted to halve the contents
before it lowered. "Captain Black Dogg Dunlap o' the Black Swan II, dis bae
Captain Jack Flynn o'dae Cruel Mistress." Introducing the two men before her attention
was upon Jack to see if he accepted her offer, refuse, or wish to barter more
upon the deal. A hand motioned for Dunlap to join them, since any business
that dealt with her would include him also.

There was a bit of an absent minded nod to Dunlap, as Jack
munched thoughtfully upon his apple. When a tendress swung by, Jack caught
her arm lightly, "A whiskey, iffen ye please." Then he smirked to J.D., and
said, "Ya would nae be interested in' bringin' down tha price iffen I threw in
a big 'at fer ye?" The Irishman thought still, checking the apple
thoughtfully. Then he shrugged softly. It could be worse, she could be
asking for fully half of his swag on a given ship. As it was, it was still a gamble.
Jack narrowed his eyes, deadly serious, and said, "Me ship ye'll nae be
gettin', nae matter 'ow bad a voyage is. Iffen ye wish ta tempt tha Fates,
sae be it. Ye 'ave moreships than I, true 'nuff, but I rather be seein' tha Cruel
Mistress upon tha bottom than in another's hands -- e'en if they are yer's,
Cap'n Black."