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Hector

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a character in “Sea of Darkness”, as played by MadMax

Description

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ImageTitle: Captain Hector Voss

He is the son of the Duke that was raised by pirates.

So begins...

Hector's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hector Character Portrait: Eleanora

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#, as written by MadMax
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The ocean waves crashed against the dark wood of his ship. A storm was brewing, a bad one. However, they would be on the shore by the time it hit. Hector stood at the helm of the ship, The Red Wind. It wasn’t a large ship, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in speed. With the wheel in his hands he sung the main part of one of his favorite shanties, Roll boys roll, while his crew joined in to sing the secondary parts together.

“Sally Brown, she's the girl for me, boys
Roll boys, roll boys roll
Sally Brown, she's the girl for me, boys
Way high, Miss Sally Brown

Oh way down South, way down South boys
Roll boys, roll boys roll
Oh bound away, with a bone in her mouth boys
Way high, Miss Sally Brown.

By the time they reached Rutland, all the men were in good spirits. They were laughing and carrying on, so much so that Hector had to quiet them down. “Listen up boys, we’re here on a mission that requires secrecy.” He already had them take down the pirate flag, and The Red Wind now appeared to look like a cargo ship. “Therefore, we need to remain cautious and not bring any unnecessary attention to ourselves. Hobbes, Ridley, Finn, you’re coming with me to the ball.” The three men cheered, while the rest started cursing him. “Calm yourselves! Once we get the map, there will be plenty of balls for us to crash, not to mention a plethora of women.” The women part sold the rest of them and they went about their places on the ship.

Hobbes, his quartermaster, came up to him. “You ready Cap’n?”

“Ay, as soon as you and the other two wash off. We want to look like pirates, but we don’t want to look like pirates.”

As they went to wash off, he pondered over the plan. A few weeks ago, rumors of a map were spreading around and after some investigating, if you call kidnapping and torturing English soldiers  investigating, and were told that the Duke of Rutland was protecting it. So naturally, Hector did what any respectable pirate in his position would have done, he concocted a plan to steal it.

They were to make their move tonight during the extravagant masquerade ball that was taking place in the Rutland house. Hector suspected that while the place would be heavily guarded, there would be too many people there to take notice of them. The costumes would only further their success as they could all go as pirates and still blend in perfectly with everyone else. He would have taken the rest of the crew, but he needed them to watch the ship and too many pirates would bring too much suspicion.

Therefore, Hobbes, Ridley, and Finn were the only ones he could risk having with him. The story they had decided on was that they were brothers on the search for wives. They had decided on the last name of Wilkinson and had varied their own names. Hector was going as Henry, Hobbes was going as Harrison, Ridley was going as Robert, and Finn was going as Fredrick.

Hector was to sneak off and go look for the map, while the others were distracting the people near him. It was a simple plan, but it was foolproof. He took great pride in his plans. His cleverness and quick hands always being helpful to carry them out. He could steal anything and everything in the snap of a finger. It had almost become a compulsive habit, but that was what he was taught to do. He was raised by pirates after all.

His adoptive father, Richard Voss, had found Hector when he was only a newborn. He had been tucked inside a crate sitting near the Red Wind. Rather than leave him there, Richard raised him as own, wanting an heir to pass his ship on to. His father’s crew had quickly taken a liking to him as well and often watched him when he was young.

Being on the sea the first 6 years of his life, he learned to walk on a ship. When he first stepped on land, he struggled to walk correctly because of the constant swaying of the ship. He would stand straight up and slowly begin to lean until he fell to the ground. After a few hours on land, he adjusted and was able to walk normally though.

Of course, he grew up, learned the ways of pirates, and became a valuable member of the crew. When Hector was a mere 16 years old, he became Captain of the Red Wind. Richard had been murdered by another pirate captain making Hector the new captain. It took him several weeks to track down the other captain, but once he did, he avenged his father’s death. The crew held him in high regards after that and did not pay attention to his young age. Now, at 20, he was still one of the youngest pirate captains to ever sail the seas, and he loved it.

Hobbes, Finn, and Ridley came up to him, their faces now clean of the grime that covered them earlier. “Let’s go steal a map, boys.”

*****

The ball was extravagant all right. Hector had never been inside so fine a place. His men were in awe as well, so much so that he had to make them snap out of it. "This," he gestured to the grandeur of the ballroom around them. "Is normal to us, remember?" They slowly broke out of their dazed states to nod their heads. "Now, go make nice with the rich people."

He watched as they eagerly went off to mingle. They would steal the map later, first they had to act like proper guests. Looking around, he noticed all the interesting costumes. Some had gotten into the full spirit of dressing up, while others simply had their finer clothes on.

Hector was clad in a pair of laced up leather trousers, and a loose white shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows. On his feet, he wore a pair of black bucket boots. He had left in the small golden hoop earring in his left ear to make it seem more like a costume and planned to claim that it was a fake if anyone asked. He let Hobbes wear his dark brown waistcoat and his hat, so he looked more like a crew member in his outfit. The only strange thing he wore was the black piece of cloth he had tied around his face. He cut out holes for his eyes and wore it as a mask.

His eyes scanned the fine women in the room. They were much cleaner than the ones he was used to and most of them were wearing large wigs. There was one woman in particular that intrigued him though. She wasn't dressed as a Harlot as so many were, she was adorned in flowers, taking on an magical appearance. An unbearable flirt by nature, his feet were walking towards her before he even knew what he was doing.

He stopped near her however, when a man started talking to her. Unashamedly eavesdropping into their conversation, he was quick to realize that this Eleanora, as he had heard, did not want to dance with Franklin who was her cousin. Seeing her lie from a mile away, he was quick to help her out.

"Me." he stated firmly as he moved in between the two of them. "Now, if you'll excuse us." He grabbed Eleanora's hand and led her to the center of the ballroom where they began to dance. Unfortunately, this kind of dancing was not what he was used to so he fumbled a bit, stepping on her toes a few times.

Looking down at his feet he said, "Your welcome, Eleanora." Hector's voice was always clear and smooth. He had been told on more than one occasion that he had a captivating voice. "The name's Henry Wilkinson, and since I saved you back there, I think it would only be fair if you reserved the next dance for me as well." His lifted his head up to meet her eyes, which stood out against her mask.

"A creature as beautiful as yourself has no room to be dancing with anyone but me anyways." He grinned playfully at her.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hector Character Portrait: Eleanora

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It all happened so fast. In a stupendously lucky heartbeat. Eleanora peered over her saviours shoulder to the belligerent figure of her cousin. If looks could kill . . . This stranger would be dead. Franklin stood at the edge of the dance floor watching them . . . Watching her. It was relief mingled with curiosity that washed over her that was until . . . "Ouch!" Eleanora frowned up at the masked angel who'd saved her from a fate worse than death. Or should she say the devil? She regarded him as he looked down at her through piercing eyes.

Whoever he was, he was a danger to her feet. Eleanora's frown deepened as he continued to speak. Oh his voice was certainly honeyed, like buttered milk but his words lacked conviction. Conviction enough to impress her. He wasn't the first man who'd try to impress her with a glib tongue and listing of their prowess. Yet, the Lady noticed, as clear and precise was his way with the language, there was an unusual lilt to it. Almost exotic in manner.

Eleanora straightened her spine, jutting her chin out as she slapped his solid upper arm and gestured for him to watch her feet and follow her lead. Well, at the very least, he could take direction it seemed.

"A creature am I? Like a ferret? Or a badger? A parrot maybe?" Eleanora replied haughtily. She would not be taken in by that roguish grin of his, trying her best not to sigh. When she had been snatched away from her cousin, for the merest of moments she had the feeling that this dark stranger would be different but he was turning out to be just like any other man of the ton. "I don't recall thanking you?" She added at his earlier audacity to assume she was grateful - she was - but the arrogance to presume! "And that's Lady Eleanora to you Sir, but . . . Thank you." Deciding to be gracious after all, looking back up into those strangely familiar eyes when she deemed her feet were safe at last. "All the same." Eleanora shivered visibly in his arms at the thought of the alternative.

"No, actually, really, thank you." She shivered again as she caught Franklin's eye and looked quickly back up to Henry, her saviour, deciding to focus on him for fear of catching her cousin's eye again. Anyway, even with the band across his eyes, Henry was far more better to look at than Franklin. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so coarse, it was just that . . . family." As if that word was explanation enough, she laughed uncomfortably, hoping he was gentlemanly enough to take a hint to drop the subject. However, just in case and seeing as she was stuck with him for at least this dance - the next depending on his conversational skills - Eleanora questioned. "Henry Wilkinson you say? How come I've never seen your face around here? I know every single face around here- Wait! Wilkinson? . . . You must be the mysterious son of the Earl of St. Merryien?" Wilkinson . . . Yes. That was the family name of the Earl. "You've been the talk of town for a few weeks now. Everybody said you were back but no one had seen you."

Eleanora began to laugh at his cleverness and her own as she believed to have deciphered it all in her head. "And you've come dressed as a . . . a bandit! Right here in the middle of all these people and they don't have a clue as to who you really are. Very clever my Lord- Lord . . . Oh shoot! What is your title again . . . Viscount Hartford! Yes! I remember."

Truly it was marvelous disguise. She sensed he had a twisted sense of humour. Not in a devious way but in a ingenious way. Eleanor'a thought's were cut short as the orchestra were coming to the end of the set and over the diminuendo she could hear . . .

"Eleanora! Eleanora!"

Franklin.

He was coming to claim his dance. To claim her. Even from a distance she could hear the terseness in his voice. The truth was, it frightened her to be alone with him. He was becoming more and more bold in his actions towards her and altogether more possessive. Without realising it, Eleanora clasped Henry's shirt in a tight grip looking up at him with alarm in that innocent hazel gaze.

"You can have all the dances." She told him feeling an odd safety in his presence. Even though it wasn't proper to dance with the same man more than once, Eleanora did not care. Yet, it was completely possible that Franklin would call Henry out for having designs upon her if he kept dancing with her. It wouldn't be fair to this man who had saved her to be launched into a dangerous duel because of her. Guilt rode her, so Eleanora forced herself to untangle her tight grasp in his shirt and smiled up at him thought it looked completely miserable. "But I think I-I owe this one to my cousin."

"Eleanora!" Franklin roared before arranging his tone to a more suitable level when he was upon them and with barely contained rage declared. "This dance is mine, I believe."

Much to her dread, it seemed there was no amount of wishing that could get her out of this one . . .