Possibly Pirates: Behind the Scenes

[Jadeling Hawkins]

This is a thread for 'behind the scenes' scenes from Seven Cities of Gold. Basically, this is where you can post any scenes that you and a fellow player (or just you alone) want to post for all to see, providing the scene meets a few simple criteria:

1. It takes place with at least one character that existed in Possibly Pirates: Seven Cities of Gold.
2. It takes place somewhere between the first post in the game (James -in a dress- and Richelle have just arrived in Port Royal) and the last post in the game (James is arrested and led away singing 'A Pirate's Life for Me').
3. It follows the rules of the game.

And that's it. Simple, no?

Now, the layout of this thread is going to be a bit different than most. To keep things neat and readable, please follow this criteria for each post in this thread.

A. List the title (it can just be a description of the story, such as 'Raff Gets a Dog'), the players involved and who they are playing (such as, 'Tigerz-Peace as Elizabeth, Irish Wolf as Raff, and Drako11 as the dog).
B. List approximately when the post takes place. (After the battle with Habbo, while sailing towards the Dutch port...it can be general.)
C. One story per post. (this means that you will have to write it elsewhere, and if you are writing it with another person, you'll have to do it either in the chat or via PM or somewhere other than here.) This is to avoid confusion between posts, as there will be several very different stories going on.

And that's pretty much it. I hope that's clear. If not, just PM me and I'll try to explain it better. I'll try to get an example up soon, but don't feel like you have to wait on me

Yo ho, everyone.

EDIT: Now allowing scenes from any moment in the Possibly Pirates universe. All other rules still apply.

[Jadeling Hawkins]

Title: Between the murder and the Monsignor
Taking place between Maya murdering the boy and the day that the Monsignor is captures.
Characters/players: Raff Kelly/Irish Wolf, Elizabeth Darson/Tigerz-Peace, James MacLeod/Skallagrim, Richelle Oaken/Jadeling Hawkins


EDIT: Finished!



Lucky James: The bow of the Fledgling breaks over the deep blue water along the Fench coast, James walked along the deck of the ship. His mind busy with how to deal with the girl in the brig, that and Richelle.

Raff: Raff stood in the powder magazine, shifting around hte large barrels full of explosives. If he didn't do that every few weeks, the black powder would seperate and be useless to teh gun crews.

Richelle: Richelle stirred in the bed, emitting a soft moan as she felt her muscles creak in protest. Her health had only continued to grow worse, at a rather alarming rate, as though her body had decided to simply quit defending itself. Most disturbing.

Lucky James: Seeing the way the crew went about their duties, James was slightly angered. Elizabeth was a good captain and fair. The crew had it better than most pirate crews, yet there still seemed a melancholy that stuck to the ship as a clod of mud to a carriage on a rainy day.

Raff: As the barrels scrapped over the wooden decking under then, Raff frowned. He could feel the mod of the ship. There had been murder done and he had been the one to find the dead boy and his murderess, knife still stuck in his chest. He had carried the poor boy to the chaptains quarters with a feeling of sorrow. The lad had saved him and now Raff could do nothing to help him.

Richelle: With a grimace, Richelle finally managed to roll herself off of the bed. She was feeling ill, but she still had duties aboard the ship. And if she didn't do them, who would? After steadying herself and pulling on her shoes, she pushed the door open and, with a few soft coughs, made her way up to the deck.

Lucky James: Inhaling the deep and salty air from the sea, James allowed his green eyes to wander the deck. He had to figure out a way to resolve the ships doldrums, shaking his head he turned and found some newer sailors complaining. "Look you lot, shut yer clack, we be needing nary a word of any foppishness regarding a curse anymore. Do ye hear me?'

Raff: Add to that, Richelle had some kind of strange illness. He sighed heavily. There was a half carved block of Holly in his cabin. He would have been working on the healing charm right now but he needed the light of the moon to make it truely work. Stealing James from the hangman was easy but then things had taken a turn for the worst.

Richelle: After allowing her eyes to adjust to the light, Richelle headed for a group of men that were huddled together murmuring things about...her, she realized. Her brow furrowed as she picked up words such as 'cursed' and 'fading,' things one generally did not want to hear about themselves in murmured conversation. On the other side of the deck, she could hear James digging into a few of the other men for slacking. And as she settled in behind the group on her side of the ship, she spoke with a forced chipper tone. "Ramblin' the lips when one could be settin' to seein' after our journeyin's, eh? Come on, lads, back to work wiv ye."

Lucky James: Hearing a melodic voice carry on the gentle breeze, James turned his eyes searching. Once he saw Richelle,his heart leaped into his mouth, she was...what in the good Laird's name was she doing above deck? Snarling softly James strode across the deck, his lean body swaying with the motion of the ship. His eyes never leaving the dark-haired beauty.

Raff: Raff frowned, sitting on a barrel. He pulled his dirk from the orange sash wrapped around his waist and started throwing it at a small knot in the wall, pulling it put and throwing it again. Something needed to be done.

Richelle: Richelle nodded approvingly as she watched the men hustle back to their stations. Some of them moved as though particularly hungry hounds of hell were nipping at their heels. But after a moment, she felt an odd sort of warmth at her back and frowned. Once she realized what it was, she cringed inwardly. Turning, she faced James with the warmest smile she could muster. "Hullo, Jimmy."

Lucky James: Narrowing his eyes in his best scowl...which evaporated in a smile a few seconds later, James leaned in close to Richelle, "Aye mi'lovely, what be ye doing above deck? I was under the impression by our chuirgeon ye were ta be resting until we made port?" Looking past her at the small framed lad, "You boyo, get back ta yer duties or I'll be using me boot ta remind yer rump of yer tasks!" Flicking his emerald eyes back towards Richelle, James smiled, but his eyes held a sadness.

Richelle: Richelle's smile became a tad more genuine. She lifted one hand to lightly touch James' cheek, using the free one to wearily wave away another pirate that was straggling. "I be just wunnerful, James. There's no need for fuss!" But even as she said it, her complexion seemed to pale another level, and her hand against his cheek was cool, if not yet cold. "Asides, I have me duties, an' I cannae jest leave them to be undone."

Lucky James: A snort came from James as he looked at Richelle, it was obvious she was weak, and weaker still today than yesterday. A frown crossed his lips as he stared at her, "Poppet...this be my deck and if I say ye don't belong here ye don't belong here. Do I have ta get Raff to tie ye to yer bunk to keep ye off yer feet?" Even as he said it James regretted it, he wanted more than anything to yell at the world and duel the Laird himself if that would help Richelle, but he couldn't but he could order her off the deck. As he looked at her his heart pounded in his chest, he turned quickly and shook his head, fighting back a tear.

Richelle: Richelle's face fell. The thought of upsetting James was a terrible one, far worse than the strange illness that had been coming over her. But at the same time, the twisting of her heart caused a sort of spark in her gut. "I...I jest want ta help, James!" She replied with a weak sort of protest. She turned away as well, feeling deeply frustrated with herself. She felt guilt over bickering while she knew he was only concerned for her health...but she felt even guiltier about the thought of lounging about while others kept the ship running. "I'm...fine, truly..."

Elizabeth: Elizabeth sighed gently, resting her chin in her hand and casting her gaze out over the gently lapping water. The sight caused her heart to flutter, almost as much as it did when she saw Raff, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm as a gentle blush reached them, as her thoughts once again drifted to Raff. Glancing down onto the deck, Elizabeth failed to see her favorite Irishman, and she assumed that, like usual, he was with his weapons. Not that she needed to see him at that very moment to know what he looked like. In her mind she could picture him as if he did stand before her. The way his fiery hair stuck out in every direction, those green eyes that made her do all she could to not blush and shy away when his gaze was upon her. Elizabeth giggled girlishly as she blushed again, thinking about how she couldn't resist watching for at least a few moments when he worked on the deck, her eyes straying over him... Pursing her lips to stop her giggles, Elizabeth swung herself onto the ropes, shimmying and climbing down onto the deck. Glancing about, Elizabeth spotted Richelle and James for the first time in the past few minutes. She frowned, grumbling slightly at the fact that Richelle was on deck.

James: James just stood dumbfounded, in a quick step he grabbed the whistle and piped the Master Gunner to the deck. The shrill whistle carried across the deck and the word was passed along to everyone to get the Master Gunners' attention. James replaced the whistle and looked again on Richelle, his eyes moistened a moment as he looked at her frail frame. The way her face betrayed the pain she felt. James bit his lower lip a moment while he waited for Raff.

Raff: Raff was about to throw his dirk at the small knot again when one of the Fledgling's powder monkeys popped his head through the open door. A young lad, maybe only eight or ten years old at most.
“The Quartermaster want you on deck sir” he said. His head then vanished from the doorway. Raff raised his eyebrow in a questioningly manner and hopped off the barrel. After tucking the dirk in his orange sash, he had his way up to the top deck.
“You wanted me James” said Raff, as he came into the sunlight, not able to see Richelle right away.

James: Turning the bright green eyes fell on Raff's burly frame, "Mr. Kelly...I have a problem with someone on my deck..." James said gravely as he looked past Raff towards the far horizon, his heart pounding, the words being forced through clenched teeth. Bowing his head, James continued, "I have a sailor who is disobeying the chuirgeons orders."

Raff: "I see" said Raff, glancing around James a little. His one remaining eye caught sight of Richelle. He straightened a little, his hands clapping behind him. Even after being free from the Navy, he still felt the need to be formal at times like theses. "What be you wanting me to do?"

James: Stepping forward so he was parallel with Raff, James kept his attention on the horizon, "Mr. Kelly I want you to escort Miss Oaken to her cabin and post someone outside her door." James inhaled and exhaled softly after finishing his instructions. Glancing at Raff, James whispered, "She cannot be here on deck it's killing her. Me mess mate I ask ye to do this fer me."

Raff: Raff closed his one eye and nodded. "James" he said softly, placing his hand on James' shoulder and opening his eye, "I once said I was ye're man......I still am shipmate" He stepped around James, giving his shoulder a pat and up to Richelle. "Miss Oaken" he said formally, "You must to return to your quarters. Do you require aid in reaching there?"

Richelle: Richelle felt her jaw drop. She couldn't believe what had just happened, what James had just said and done, and along with it what Raff had replied with. For a moment she could do little more than stare at James with a wholly betrayed look. Then, decided that she was not in a position to be treated like an unruly sailor, she straighted her back and pursed her lips stubbornly. "Nay, Master Gunner, I be fully capable of escorting me own self to me quarters." Holding herself as high as she could, and utterly refusing to glance back at the Quarter Master, she headed back the way she had come with the straightest steps possible.

Raff: Raff nodded with a tug at a lock of his red hair. He glanced over at James with a look trying to say, "You did what was needed". He then hurried after Richelle, just to make sure she returned to her bed and didn't try to make the trouble that only an angry woman could.

James: James' heart broke. Lowering his head he felt the heat rise along his neck and flood his face, stepping forward so he stood against the railing he stuck out hard and fast onto the railing, the loud crack carried across the deck. The wind swirled around him, the breeze lifted and filled his shirt, a single tear rolled down his cheek. With out turning James said, "Steady lad, keep her steady as she goes."

Richelle: Richelle continued on, her fists clenched as tightly as she could make them in her weakened state. What blood managed to make its way to her face had made it there in a hurry, ushered on by the shame of being treated, as she felt, like an ill behaved passenger. To add to the humiliation, nearly at the steps her knees buckled as though she had been running on them all day. She caught herself, but two of the nearby sailors still dove to catch her just in case. Tugging her arms from their grasps, she murmured with great frustration, "I'm fine, I just stumbled!" As she finally made it into the safety of the darkness below decks, hot tears began trekking their way down her cheeks.

Raff: Raff waved the other sailors back to their duties and followed after Richelle. When they were in the shadows, his eye sight became keener, readjusting quickly. He walked so he was level with her. "He's worried about ye" he said softly.

James: Hastily wiping the tear away, James took out his spy glass and extended it, scanning the horizon. In reality he saw nothing, his mind racing through a myriad of thoughts. Should he run to her and beg forgiveness, no damn it she was told to say in her cabin and rest. James' voice a low murmur, "Poppet cannae ye see..." Glancing around he spotted a deck hand scrubbing hard, his eyes watered as he looked at James. It was one of the younger lads, he shook his head and went back to is task.

Richelle: "He's placing me under quarantine like a diseased animal!" Richelle replied with her weak anger, rubbing hastily at her cheeks. Raff was her friend, but she was no more pleased with him than she was James at the moment. And the embarrassing event that had just occurred did not help matters.

Raff: "He wants ye to rest and get well" said Raff, "As do we all. Your sickness after the murder does not bide will with the lads and should ye tire yeself out and die.....well things will go from bad to worst. But should ye get well.....it will hail as a sign of hope to the crew."

Richelle: Richelle considered replying to this, but was interrupted by another fit of pitiful coughing. This did not serve to improve her view on the situation.

Raff: Raff lightly laid his arm over Richelle's shoulders and waited for the coughing to subside. If need up, he would carry her to her cabin though he doubted that would improve her mood.

James: Watching the three other pirate ships that Esath had brought along with them, James frowned, it was not a good sign. So many ships would attract attention of a pirate raider, that would be bad. As fast as the pirates ships were, they couldn't handle a battle with a Royal Navy raider. Sighing he shook his head, as he turned he spotted Twigs, she seemed to be chatting with Caesar, and the Englishman was casting glances towards James. Clenching his fist James instinctively touched the hilt of his cutlass. There had to be a way to release the melancholy the crew was feeling, there had to be a way.

Richelle: Once she could breath normally, Richelle sniffled a bit and rubbed at her once more drenched cheeks. "I'm fine," She repeated as she lightly shrugged out of Raff's grasp. "And 'tis easy enough for ye to say...I'm a bloody prisoner in me own home and in me own body, 'tis ridiculous an' worrisome as any ever-loving devil wiv 'is horns tied together. I feel like a bloody waste of cabin space, Raff!" Moping wasn't going to help the situation, she knew, but she could think of no solid solution just yet. With a frustrated sigh, she opened the door to her quarters.

Raff: "Bah" said Raff, "Ye're not wasted space...ye're hope to the crew. Thats worth more then all the gold or silver in a merchantman's hold. Now get in bed and get better"

James: Standing there James felt that feeling, slowly the creep began along his back, slowly working its way up towards his neck. James blinked, then blinked again...turning swiftly he scanned the horizon...there a sail. Barely visible a sail, so distant and far many would have missed it. Leaping upon the rail and extending the spy glass James stare for a full twenty seconds before he let out a whoop. Jumping down on the deck he raced to the bell and rang it with all his might. James had spotted at merchantman, but it was flying the Cross...it was a papal emissary ship. James voice carried, "Shift yer helm lad...Sheets and tacks, sheets home me boyos..We've a ship ta plunder!" The bell ringing loudly, it was hard to mistake the frantic nature of the ringing, something was happening and James seemed excited.

Richelle: Richelle had crawled back into bed, the blanket pulled up over her head. Dealing with a new wave of nausea, she did her best to ignore the happy ringing. It only made her feel a twinge of guilt for the argument with James.

((Okay, so, a few obvious differences than the actual way things played out in the IC. Just pretend they're exactly the same at the end/beginning << >>))

[Jadeling Hawkins]

Title: With the Monsignor Captive...
Takes place: After capturing the Monsignor, after things have settled down a bit.
Characters: Raff Kelly/Irish Wolf, James MacLeod/Skallagrim, Richelle Oaken/Jadeling Hawkins.



Richelle: Richelle sat next to Raff's cot, her knees tucked up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She watched after the Irishman carefully, her mouth pulled into a tight frown with every moment that passed without him rising and demanding rum. The last words she had uttered to him had not been entirely kind, and it was gnawing at her soul almost as badly as the fact that she had yet to apologize to James. She was still certain that she was not entirely at fault for their...misunderstanding...but her adoration for the Scottish pirate stretched even beyond the bonds of womanly pride. It just had yet to overflow and result in her seeking a mend. In the meantime, she watched over Raff and dabbed at his brow when he seemed over heated, added another blanket when he seemed cold, and waited patiently for him to awaken.

Raff: Raff was lost in a dark and unknown world. Random flashes of unknown things passed him by, some of pure terror, some of sadness and a few of joy. Flash: a metal cart with some sort of fast reloading musket mounted on it crawled over a blasted field filled with broken bodies. Flash: His mother weeping in the sea and himself swimming out to meet her. Flash: a wedding but the bride and groom were faceless

James: James had been busy with the Monsignor, it was a bad thing to kidnap a man of the cloth usually, but even more so when kidnapping a Papal Emissary. James had cleaned out one of the store rooms and turned it into a cabin. James mind was racing, he had committed a grave sin... he knew he'd burn in hell for it but if it allowed him a few more years with Richelle, well then it was worth it. Kneeling before the Monsignor, James said softly, "Forgive me father for I have sinned." The priest smiled wryly and nodded, placing a well worn and tanned hand on James' head, "Continue my son." It was twenty minutes later when James left the cabin, his soul cleansed and his spirits lifted.

Richelle: Richelle frowned and shifted, but didn't go to Raff yet. He appeared to be in the midst of some uncomfortable dream...it made her think on what it might have been like to watch her sleep, during the last few days when she had been so horribly ill. She now felt nearly like her old healthy self, although she knew what was wrong with her, and that it would require fixing. But for now her concern was on Raff, and seeing that he was repaired as soon as possible. And eventually, in repairing the uncomfortable moment between herself and James.

Raff: Raff continued his uneasy sleep, twitching now and then. His eye flicked from side to side rapidly under his closed lid. Flash: Elizabeth screaming, blood everywhere, her eyes closing forever. Flashing, the sound odd cannon fire, blazing pain, a glance down, seeing a body (maybe his) stuck like a pin cushion with small slivers of wood.

James: James clomped onto the deck, his eyes wide and bright. Yet for all that had just happened, raiding a ship and kidnapping a Cardinal Bishop, finding out the that his poppet was cursed. And that damned burly Irish rogue was too proud to get help for his injury. James frowned and looked around, the action had seemed to increase spirits of the crew, yet the truth was they needed to sail to Elkab to remove the illness on Richelle. Narrowing his eyes James looked at the sky, "Ye make it difficult Laird, yea though ye make it harsh on pirates as we, we shall fight ole'rot himself if ye deem it needed ta save me poppet."

Richelle: Richelle shifted to her feet, taking a cloth and lightly resting it against Raff's brow. She sighed. It did not look as though he were going to be awaking any time soon. So she carefully set the sick-bell (something for those truly decrepit to be able to summon aid with from the chuirgen) within reach of her Irish friend, then headed for the door. It was time she spoke with James...those she wasn't certain what she would say.

Raff: Flash: a cold land, covered in ice and snow with a city free of winter grip, a grove of trees in the middle. Flash: screams and bellows, bodies pilled up in a street, red coated soldiers shooting any the moved for beg for help. Flash: Metal ships filled the sea, not a sign of sails but moving swifter then the wind could carry one

Richelle: A few moment of quick stepping, and Richelle arrived in front of James' door. She gnawed at her lower lip, her eyes scrunching in concern as she considered what to say. Just a few days ago, they had met for the first time in two years. Now, at the first chance she had, she had gone and started an argument. Or at least had taken part in one. Surely some of the fault lay in him as well....with a frustrated sigh, she walked away from the door and instead headed to her own. She didn't know what to say, what to do...it was a seemingly impossible situation. But rather than going into her own quarters, she found herself heading to the area that had been made into a cabin for the Monsignor. Hesitating only a moment, she lightly tapped at the door. "Monsignor? May I come in, sir?"

James: James sighed as he felt the gentle sway of the ocean. He would have to speak to Richelle of course, but damnable swells he didn't look forward to it. Wiping the tin bead of sweat from his forehead, James climbed the deck to the quarter and watched the crew go about their duties. This moment was perfect, a crew of mess mates tried and true, a bonny lass that he loved more than life it self. Smiling a moment James exhaled, reaching forward he leaned on the railing, his green eyes catching the movement on the deck, and beyond to the azure sky that lay far ahead of them.

James: Dark eyes looked up from the bible that lay open, Cardinal Bishop Montoya inhaled softly, "Truly the Lord's work is never done aboard a pirate ship." Standing upright and straightening his cossack he inhaled deeply and in his most authoritative voice said "Entre"

Richelle: Richelle cleared her throat softly, stepping into the room and shutting the door as softly as possible. She had never, before this day, been this close to a high ranking man of the cloth. "Forgive me...my intrusion, Father." She decided to speak with the high-class lingo she had learned as a lass, as the highest sign of respect she could manage. "I was wondering if you might have a spare moment."

James: A gentle smile crossed the mans face, his dark eyes stared at the young woman he had just a few hours before helped. Bowing his head, he nodded and spoke softly, "Indeed Lady, come I shall minister to they needs." Turning the Monsignor pulled the chair out and indicated Richelle should sit in it. Closing his bible, the tall man cleared off a barrel and seated himself, his eyes peering into the petite brunette before him.

Richelle: Richelle quickly moved to accept the seat, forcing her hands to quit fiddling with one of her braids and rest neatly folded in her lap. It was certainly awkward, being catered to by a prisoner. But at the same time, the Monsignor had a sort of gentle strength to him that reminded her ever so much of her own handsome sailor. Inhaling deeply, she spoke. "Father, I..." She closed her eyes, her shoulders sagging some. "I am at a loss, Father. I'm turned about, as some of my..." Her eyes opened and drifted to the door, indicating the other pirates, "...friends would say. I feel as though I've..." And suddenly, her eyes were brim full of tears.

James: Monsignor Montoya frowned then reached out a strong hand, " You walk the...how you say, the Via Dolorosa...the road of anguish." Nodding his head he continued, 'Your James, he is... he walks at cross path as well. Both of you and this ship carries a taste of the serpent upon it."

Richelle: Blinking a few times in an effort to banish the tears, she only succeeded in sending them down her cheeks. Rubbing at the moisture with her sleeve, Richelle emit a shaky sigh. "'Tis not myself that I'm worried for, Father. James is..." She lifted her head, looking to the man of the cloth as though seeking some sort of confirmation. "Father, I've forsaken everything to be with him. My family and family's home, my country, anything I had before...and I'd do it again, gladly. But..." And she dropped her head once more, sniffling and angry at how pitiful a sound it was. "...I've put a rift between us that I don't know how to close...Father, what should I do?"

James: The Cardinal Bishop smiled and knelt before the weeping girl, his hands traced her tears, "Forgive me...is this the man that led an attack on my ship and captured me...to save you from the devil? And in the process damned his eternal soul to suffering in hell?" A beaming smile flashed from the tanned face as Monsignor Montoya lifted Richelle's chin, "Senora, the love the man has for you should embrace and encircle you. I doubt any rift you have would be wide enough to stop his love for you." Sighing softly the man bowed his head, '"Perhaps you should trust your heart my child and leave the anguish to God."

Richelle: Richelle remained silent for a moment, the Monsignor's words slowly sinking into her core. Slowly, very slowly, a smile started to develop beneath her tears. Sliding off of the chair, she went to her knees before the Monsignor and gingerly took his hand, placing a grateful kiss upon his knuckles. "Thank you, Father. And...forgive me, but I truly believe that the devil could never handle James. He's far too jolly, and likely a better swordsman to boot. I cannot imagine a soul as pure and earnest as his being cast anywhere but northward, to the good Lord's graces, if you will. Thank you, Father." And with this, she rose to her feet and curtsied deeply. "If there's anything you need, please let me know."

James: Monsignor Montoya smiled as the door closed, shaking his head, "Gloria in Excelsis Dio." He whispered and crossed himself, seating himself again he opened the bible and began reading again, a smile crossed his lips, he knew that the Holy See would certainly ask for and recieve advice to hunt down this crew of pirates. But the Monsignors prayers would be with the pirate and his amore.

Richelle: Richelle first dropped in the check on Raff. Finding him still fitfully asleep, she then headed to her own quarters, where she quickly set about washing her face with cold water to remove the redness of her eyes and brushing her hair out briefly so it did not look as though she had spent the last several days wasting away in bed...which she had. Then, satisfied with her appearance, she braced herself for what she hoped would be a small amount of anger from James and headed back to the door that led to his chambers. Taking a few deep breaths, she lifted her fist, hesitated, then gently knocked on the door.

James: James had been watching the crew for a while when boredom set in, shaking his head he clapped his hand on the back of the helm and headed down to his cabin. As he did he spotted a familiar shape knocking on the door. Puzzled, James padded up to her and said softly, 'Argh me poppet...have ye come to accept me apology for acting like a lubber?"

Richelle: Richelle very nearly jumped out of her skin. Which would have been an interesting sight, to be sure, but would have made the issue of apologizing much more difficult. Turning and fiddling nervously with a braid, she faced the most handsome being on the world with all the smoothness of a grated porcupine. Twiddling with her hair and staring at her toes, at the railing, at the grains of the floor, anywhere but him, she began rambling. "Well, no, I haven't...I mean, aye, but...no, well, I came to...to, um...." Realizing what she was doing, she felt her face grow hot. After finally dragging her eyes to his face, she gave him a horribly sheepish smile, tinged with grief. "James..." With her gaze stuck on his, she completely forgot what it was she had been attempting to say.

James: James paused a moment then smiled as he stepped close to Richelle, wrapping his arms around her he leaned down and whispered, "Say yes..." Then he kissed her, no longer or more passionate kiss had ever happened. All other kisses before this one were mere practices, simply a way to prepare for this moment.

Richelle: Richelle's eyes widened a moment, but just a moment. They then quickly closed as her heart pounded, matching against his as she pressed close. She considered slipping her arms around him, but decided instead to rest her hands at either side of his face as the rest of the world faded save for the wonderful creature that had descended from heaven and somehow convinced himself to love her. With every positive emotion ever known to man flooding her senses, she ceased considering and worrying and simply enjoyed the moment, offering her apology and promises to avoid future issues such as this one with her half of the kiss. When they finally parted, with just enough room betwixt the two of them for the kiss to be considered 'over,' she managed to breath a simple word. "Yes."

Raff: Flash: that dragoon saber again, striking at his face, the horrible pain of his eye being slice apart. Raff's one eye popped open and a low moan of pain escaped his lips. A dull ache plagued his left eye and a throbbing pain was in his leg.

Elizabeth: Elizabeth hugged her legs to her torso, her chin resting on her knees as she rocked slightly on the crate she had taken up as her seat, watching Raff's face as he continued to lay as if dead, and only the slight rise and fall of his chest, and the subconscious expressions that crossed his face allowed Elizabeth the comfort that he continued to live. Worry creased her face in frowns, slight quivers of her mouth, which was turned down at the corners, and the forlorn look in her eyes revealing her feelings. With an inward sigh, Elizabeth rose, stretching her stiff limbs as she took two small steps to close the gap between herself and her Irishman, her hand snaking out to allow her hands to brush along his cheek. The Fledgeling's captain blinked back tears furiously as she leaned down and kissed the cheek of the unconscious Raff. Pursing her lips, she brushed a few strands of his red hair from his forehead, just as his eye flickered open and a groan of pain escaped him. With a small gasp of surprise, Elizabeth's hand pressed again Raff's cheek as a wet cloth in her other hand brushed over his feverish forehead. "Raff... Raff, love, can ye hear me?" Murmured Liz as she stared down at him worriedly, her slate gray gaze casting over his face fervently.

Raff: Raff groaned again and closed his eye. The dim light in his cabin hurt after a few days of darkness. He then opened his eye again and looked over Elizabeth, looking for a sign that would tell him if he was still in those horrible dreams. No screams or blood just bubbling from her and no shots could be heard. "Aye" he said, reacing up and weakly touching Elizabrth's face, wanting to make sure its real. "Be I dreaming anymore" he whispered in a fear choked voice.

Elizabeth: Elizabeth's hands rose her own face as Raff touched it, her fingers entwining with his as she lowered her face and kissing him softly, relief washing through her in waves. "Nay Raff, ye ain't dreamin'." Liz whispered, somewhat hoarsely as she pursed her lips, glancing down at his injured leg to see that only a small patch of the bandage was soaked with blood - considerably less then the last bandage.


((And then I'm not sure if we're continuing from there or not. But there you go ))