Roleplay Online with RolePlayGateway

This is an rp based in 1720, when privateers are a real issue, and the sun never sets on England.
We will be starting in Port Royal.

If you want to join, just bare in mind, we're looking for people that follow the basic rules on RPG (no godmodding, no behaving like whiny children, etc.), and people that have at least a basic grasp of the English language. Also, please try and stick to the story. Don't just ignore everyone else's posts when you're writing

Have fun!

Richelle strode along the cobbled streets, head turning this way and that with delight as she examined Port royal and all it had to offer. It was considerably brighter and friendlier than Tortuga...though this may not have been saying a lot. There was considerably less smoke and mayhem than the pirate port she had so recently been in. She had her arms hooked around the arms of her 'sister,' who was considerably taller than her. If anyone had bothered to look closely, they may have noticed a certain mannish, muscular nature about the 'woman' Richelle was bringing around with her.
"Oh, Jamie, just smell that pork! Have ye ever smelled anythin' so heavenly?" Richelle gave her 'sister' a particularly bright grin.

"Oh, Jamie, dear, are you alright?" Richelle cried out in a voice far more womanly than that of her 'sister.' As she rushed to help her clumsy sibling, her deft hand slipped over to the overweighted belt of the merchant, preoccupied with Jamie, and removed the plump coin bag. Then, struggling to haul Jamie to her feet, she scampered off, offering only a brief curtsy to the merchant and his fellows. Leading Jamie into a dark alley, she gave her a bright grin, emptying the bag of gold into her handsome sister's hands. "I imagine a couple of fine ladies like ourselves could find decent lodgings with this, don't you?"

Richelle nodded eagerly, smile wide as any river. "Might I suggest we try somewhere less populated with the Navy? Some peasant's tavern should do nicely...they're likely used to women with stubble!" She winked at him, took his arm again, and set off in search of such a place.
It wasn't too hard to find. After passing several taverns full of men with plumed hats, they came across 'The Salty Pig,' a dingy little place with smoked-over windows and rather unpleasant smelling people mingling with rather pleasant smelling food.
"Well, this looks to be our sort of place...sister." Richelle grinned at James and led him in. The room had a blanket of smoke, and various broken pieces of wood on the floor, likely the result of fights. All was peaceful at this moment, however. Being settled into one of the less broken tables, food was ordered, and they were left to their own devices for a moment.
"What was the artisan's name, again? Elizabeth, wasn't it?" Richelle drummed her fingers on the table as she thought. "She was mighty talented, it seemed. It would be a stroke of luck if'n we were to find someone of her caliber...that wouldn't want to turn us in." She grinned.

Richelle bit her lip to keep from laughing, twirling a bit of dark hair around her finger. "Well, sister dear...I do believe that first things first, we should get ourselves some well earned rest. We've been runnin' amok, hither an' thither, for long enough, says I. It would seem wise if we-"
She was stopped by the approach of a young man with about as much scruff as he had scars. "Affernoon, ladies.."
"Er...hullo.." Richelle gave the man a disturbed look as he settled himself in next to her.
"How's about I git you two lovely..." The man trailed off, looking at the 'woman' now seated across from him, "...er...ladies...somefin' to wet yer gills?"
"We haven't any gills, here, but thanks anyhow!" Richelle replied with a sort of terse politeness in her voice. The last thing they wanted was to attract attention. Especially considering how disappointed this young man would be if he was wanting to cuddle with 'Jamie.'

Richelle had to fight not to laugh at James' reception of the over eager man, and nearly lost the fight when the man slowly pulled his arm, which had wandered around her shoulders, back to his own person and left to get drinks. And then, the officer came in, offering reward for...well, James.
Clearing her throat slightly, she leaned forward, touching her 'sister's' hand. "Jamie, dearest...I believe t'would be wise if you retired for the night. You look rather spent."
At this point, the man returned with three drinks, carefully depositing one in front of the touchier of the two sisters, and sliding in to deliver another in front of the bonnier one. "Yer...ah...brandy, miladies."

The boy grimaced slightly at 'Jamie's' touch, but managed not to recoil.
"Arg...right...there be a smallish inn 'cross the street...'tis few an' far between what stays there, too small fer most folk's taste...if'n yer lookin' fer privacy, that be yer best bet."
Then he turned back to Richelle. "An' you, liddler sister, you ain't done fer the day, are ye?" He leaned in as though seeking a peck on the lips, only to find his face - and arm - empty.
Richelle had jumped to her feet, slipping out of the eager young man's grasp, and grabbing James' hand. "'Fraid so, dear sir. What sort of sister would I be, lettin' dear Jamie run amok on her lonesome? Perhaps we shall be fortunate enough to meet again in the next few days. Until then....adieu."
And she dragged James out of the bar, towards the pointed out inn.

Richelle felt her face warm slightly, and she winked at her 'sister.' "Well, I do believe I said we might be meetin' again, didn't I?"
Then she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to enjoy a slight warm breeze. "Days like this shouldn't be hogged all to port, Jamie dear. 'Tis a shame we can't just take off now...unless, accourse, you're in the mood for a brisk swim. If'n that's the case...we might not make it far, but we'd still enjoy ourselves for a brief moment, now, wouldn't we?"
Shooting James a quick grin, she curtsied to a man that held open the inn door for them. "In the meantime...we'd best get that loverly face o'yours outta the open, lest more lustful men come seeking it."

Richelle's face split into a wide grin, and she performed the deepest curtsy she could manage without falling over.
"Why, thankee ever so much for such glorious comments, marm. And we return 'em seven fold, accourse."
She had never actually expected to run into the impressive seawoman again. A happy occassion indeed, for this meant that they were one person closer to leaving Port Royal (and James' potential noose) behind.

Richelle bit her lip once more to keep from laughing at Jamie's horribly unfeminine mannerisms. At this rate, she was going to bite right through her lower lip and into her chin.
Seeing a few bits of rabble casually glancing over at them, she quickly grasped both James' and Elizabeth's hands, hauling them inside.
"Me sisters an' I would like a room fer the night, if'n ye please!" She spoke as sweetly as any thief could to the innkeep, who nodded his head and accepted a handful of coins. Money exchanged and key given, she grabbed the two hands, one feminine, one magnificently not, and once more towed the two behind her as they went up the stairs, down the hall, and into a slightly cramped room with two beds, a table, and little else.
Finally secreted away, Richelle flopped onto one of the beds and proceeded to let out the (stifled) laughter she had been holding back so valiantly. "Oh, Jimmy, do be a dear an' at least take off that bonnet! You ain't even half bad lookin' as a man, but garn if you don't make one of the ugliest girls I've ever laid me eyes on! Me funny bone can only take so much!"
Sitting up, she wiped at an amused tear that had squeezed from her eye, highly entertained grin pushing tight dimples onto her cheeks.