"Nassau" James Bradford Nassau, Bahamas, Among the few men that resided in Nassau; many were of Pirates. It was a shanty town of an island who's residents were drunken vagrants working on Ex-Privateer ships. Rum flowed in Nassau, it was the epicenter of trade on the island, that and sugar. To many Pirates, Rum was as good as any treasure. It kept the drunks drunk and the poor wealthy. It was a very profitable alcohol that could be sold for many pounds. Resting at one of the nearby taverns was James, drinking a cup of spiced Rum recently stolen from a Merchant Ship near Cuba. The bitterness of the Rum made James mouth cringe, he wasn't too big on strong alcohols, but he still drank them to fit in with the typical Pirate stereotype.
Striding gallantly along the beach front, wielding a half-empty mug of Rum was Captain Compton. He was drunken, as was the normality for him. Compton had a stomach of steel, that of which could maintain anything fed to it. It was an endless chasm for booze and unsettling foods that came with his gracious appetite.
"Captain Compton!" James calls out from his seat at the tavern.
"Aye?!" Compton slurs, drunkenly turning towards the direction of James call.
"Will you be sharing a drink with me and the others?" James responds.
"Will I? Of course I will!" Compton shouts as he unsteadily changes his course of direction to the tavern.
Along the seats that were set in front of the taverns bar counter sat the pirates who served proudly under Compton. They drank to their successful journey to Nassau, jesting amongst each other and sharing old sea tails. Compton joined the pirates at the tavern, they raised their mugs and cheered for him as he took a seat next to James. Compton smiles widely as he strings his arm around the neck of one of the pirates who sat next to him. James laughs as the crew tells jokes to Compton, he felt at home, even though his mind wasn't.
"Nassau" James Bradford, Nassau, Bahamas,
The sand of Nassau glistened brightly in the afternoon sunlight, a gleam of land made the crew anxious. It'd been three days since Captain Compton of the Raven and his crew had strode on land. Among the crew resided fellow Ex-Privateer James Bradford. James had served approximately three years under Captain William Compton, in this span of time, he'd faced unparalleled, difficult decisions that would twist his morals. As with all the other pirates, James was twisted not by merciless killings encouraged by Compton, but by the greed and desire of wealth and possessions. This greed muddled his mind, quickly had James sought after a life spent at ease. He wished for an easy, fair life, not the one he'd come to know through experience.
Pulling the ropes to the moth eaten white sails that strode high and proud into the skies; James tugged hard against the wind. The Raven was slowing down to dock at the nearest port in Nassau, a pirate haven. Listening to the steady commands of Compton, James took note of his direction. Compton was a man of iron, void of practically any emotion or coherent thought process. He did as he pleased, no predilections set him back on his motives. In taking note of Compton's commands, James was sort of better-minting himself to be a more efficient man, so that one day, maybe he could be the Captain at the helm of a ship.
Dinh, accepted, Tom, your Character is fine, but your ship(s) seem to be overpowered. Reduce the classification of your ship(s) to a reasonable starter then work your way up. I'm starting as a Pirate under a Captain.
Physical/Facial Description-Standing around roughly six-feet tall, James is a slim yet bulky man. He possess upper body strength which helps him carry out most of his endeavors. Having a muscular build, James has toned muscles that and a broad-shoulders. His skin is rough, callus, and sun-tanned due to manual labor. Tattoos paint his biceps and portions of his chest, depicting various icons of importance to him. Described by many as a fairly attractive man, James has a rather distinguished complexion. His features are defined, mostly his cheekbones. Dark, unkempt blondish-brown hair resides atop his head, a slight stubble connecting to his hair.
Clothing/Armor-James wears typical pirate clothing, portions of the armor are plated to add protection. The armor is light to enable maneuverability in combat.
Clothing Accessories(Gun Holsters/Sword Sheathes/Etc)-Two pistol hip holsters, Two hip sheathes, Two chest holsters, all made of strong leather
Weapons(8 Items or less)-Four Flintlock Pistols, Two Scimitars, Bow with ten arrows, Curved Dagger
Equipment(Misc.Items/10 Items or less)-Compass, Spyglass, Mother's necklace
Personality(Optional)-James is a rather optimistic man, driven by the greed like most Pirate. However, unlike most Pirates, he somehow retains a certain politeness. Often contradicting his Pirate-like behavior, James has a charismatic persona which often wins over the appreciation of many, making him more of a figure head than an enemy. He's stubborn and persistent, these traits drive him to succeed in his missions for obtaining goods. Being a cunning, quick-thinker, James can easily plan things out and perform them with ease. In total, James is a clever, calculating man with a witty sense of humor.
Biography(Optional)-Born in Bristol England around 1678, James was the second child of a family of six. Living a mostly impoverished life; nothing came easy to James, he always had to work hard. With his Father away, sailing for the King's navy, James was left with his sickly mother and siblings. In his late teens, James' mother died from Tetanus, leaving him to take care of his siblings, on top of this tragedy in the family, another was added a few years later after his father was wounded in action. Sent home with a missing limb, James' father returned from the British Navy a changed man. Left as an alcoholic, James father would plunge his family into a desperate state due to surmounting unpaid debts. As a way of paying off these debts, James worked on a plantation for a spell of five years in his twenties. Bored of the simple life, he decided to take up Privateering and was sent to the West Indies with Captain Compton. Shortly after, the crew decided to convert to Pirating as a form of rebellion against the outlawing of Privateering. This is where James story begins.
Post 1648, Privateering(commerce raiding authorized by nations)had been outlawed in the Western Indies due to the signing of the Osnabrück and Münster treaties. As a result of the end of Privateering, many sailors were left jobless and angered by the sudden change in direction. Many squandered their problems looking for odd jobs, others took up the banister of stirring trouble. Ex-Privateers took to Pirating, an act that was extremely prohibited by the Nations that ruled the West Indies. Pirates were primarily hunted by militant ships such as the Spaniards and British.
It's 1711, Piracy is at it's height, topping the global conflicts that encompass European nations. Many notorious names have been cropping up around the Caribbeans and North Atlantic seas, reports of their violent raids on Cargo Ships have stricken fear into many sailors. And while Nation flags soar in the skies, crimson blood pollutes the seas.
Sails set high for the New World!
Masts painted with the flags of nations wielding immense power scour the Caribbean skies
It's a time of exploration and adventure!
Will you be the next notorious Pirate to claim the seas as yours?
It's 1711, pirating is at a high, due to the outlawing of privateering by the Peace of Westphalia treaties.
The West Indies are ridden with fear of an overwhelming and unwelcome "militia" of Pirates.
Pirates are deemed scourges of the North Atlantic and Caribbean seas, often attacking massive cargo ships in search of valuable goods.
In a time of violence, the waters run crimson red with the blood of those unlucky enough to befall by the blade of a Pirates sword.
And while Britain and Spain take drastic measures to put an end to pirating, they are none too lucky in halting the wildfires that have spread throughout West Indies.
You are either a Pirate, Citizen, or Soldier of the West Indies.
This is an Interest Check/Out-Of-Game Thread
Apps, RP discussion, and more will be posted here.
((Sorry for bein away)) Six Years Ago, "The One Who Got Away" Jeffery Ryan and Jennifer Grey, Primm, Iridescent in the hot Nevada landscape resided Primm, a small quaint settlement just a few miles from Vegas. It resided comfortably along the route from Goodsprings, well guarded by the NCR, a safe haven for weary travelers passing through the barren wastelands of Nevada. It was one of the few towns that had some uniqueness to it. Most of the towns near the Strip were modernized in Vegas's shadow, dawning the typical attire most had adopted due to popularization of the casino life.
Standing by the front door to the Vikki and Vance casino stood Jeffery and Jennifer, or as they were typically branded by the Nevada folk, Jen and Jeff; wielding high-powered assault rifles.
"Ready?" Jeff asks gruffly. "You bet I am." Jennifer responds fiercely.
Smiling, Jeff casually turns and kicks open the double doors to the casino. Light shines through the large cap created by Jeff. Raising his assault rifle to the air, Jeff unleashes bullets into the humid casino's air. Immediately, screams follow, glasses break, and pandemonium is stirred within the casino.
"ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY SETTLE DOWN, GET DOWN, IF ANYONE SO MUCH AS MOVES A MUSCLE; I'LL PUT A BULLET IN ALL YALL'S HEADS!" Jennifer commands.
Casino goers quickly shuffle onto their knees, hands raised by their heads, hearts racing. Jeffery quickly rushes over to the chip exchange booth, tossing a rucksack onto the counter before the teller.
"ALRIGHT, FILL IT UP! PUT EVERYTHING YOU HAVE IN THE BAG!" Jeff yells, pointing his assault rifle at the scared, balding teller.
Obeying Jeff's commands, the teller grabs the bag and opens the cash register, removing stacks of NCR dollars, bottle caps, and other treasures and stuffing them into the bag. With trembling hands, the teller places the bag on the counter, slowly backing away; hands raised.
"Let me in; I wanna see your safes!" Jeff commands.
"B-But there's nothing in 'em, we emptied them out last week." The teller responds.
"We'll see about that! Let me in!" Jeff yells, raising the gun to the teller again.
"Okay, okay!" He cries out.
Rushing over to the door, the teller unlocks it and opens it up for Jeff who pushes him aside.
"Open these safes!" Jeff yells.
"We ain't got the time, them NCR will be 'ere any minute!" Jennifer shouts to Jeff.
"To hell with the NCR! Open the goddamn safes, now!" Jeff yells.
The teller grabs his ring of keys from his pocket and fumbles around for each separate safe key. Unlocking the safes with trembling hands, Jeff watches with anxious eyes, looking into the dark boxes for anything valuable. Nothing but left over receipts and documents littered the safes.
"You said they emptied these safes a week ago? Where'd they take the items?" Jeff asks the teller.
"I-I don't know." The teller responds, his eyes glued to Jeff's gun.
"Imma ask you again, where did they take them?" Jeff says raising his gun to the man's forehead.
The man cries out in fear.
"They took them away for the war efforts back in California, they're bein shipped away!" He says, crying.
"Do you know where they might be?"
"I don't know, I swear, please don't kill me!"
Jeff looks onto the mans sobbing face, littered with tears and empty pleads to spare his life.
"Jeff! The NCR, they're headin over, we need to leave!" Jennifer screams.
0
James Bradford
Nassau, Bahamas,
Among the few men that resided in Nassau; many were of Pirates. It was a shanty town of an island who's residents were drunken vagrants working on Ex-Privateer ships. Rum flowed in Nassau, it was the epicenter of trade on the island, that and sugar. To many Pirates, Rum was as good as any treasure. It kept the drunks drunk and the poor wealthy. It was a very profitable alcohol that could be sold for many pounds. Resting at one of the nearby taverns was James, drinking a cup of spiced Rum recently stolen from a Merchant Ship near Cuba. The bitterness of the Rum made James mouth cringe, he wasn't too big on strong alcohols, but he still drank them to fit in with the typical Pirate stereotype.
Striding gallantly along the beach front, wielding a half-empty mug of Rum was Captain Compton. He was drunken, as was the normality for him. Compton had a stomach of steel, that of which could maintain anything fed to it. It was an endless chasm for booze and unsettling foods that came with his gracious appetite.
"Captain Compton!" James calls out from his seat at the tavern.
"Aye?!" Compton slurs, drunkenly turning towards the direction of James call.
"Will you be sharing a drink with me and the others?" James responds.
"Will I? Of course I will!" Compton shouts as he unsteadily changes his course of direction to the tavern.
Along the seats that were set in front of the taverns bar counter sat the pirates who served proudly under Compton. They drank to their successful journey to Nassau, jesting amongst each other and sharing old sea tails. Compton joined the pirates at the tavern, they raised their mugs and cheered for him as he took a seat next to James. Compton smiles widely as he strings his arm around the neck of one of the pirates who sat next to him. James laughs as the crew tells jokes to Compton, he felt at home, even though his mind wasn't.
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0
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James Bradford,
Nassau, Bahamas,
The sand of Nassau glistened brightly in the afternoon sunlight, a gleam of land made the crew anxious. It'd been three days since Captain Compton of the Raven and his crew had strode on land. Among the crew resided fellow Ex-Privateer James Bradford. James had served approximately three years under Captain William Compton, in this span of time, he'd faced unparalleled, difficult decisions that would twist his morals. As with all the other pirates, James was twisted not by merciless killings encouraged by Compton, but by the greed and desire of wealth and possessions. This greed muddled his mind, quickly had James sought after a life spent at ease. He wished for an easy, fair life, not the one he'd come to know through experience.
Pulling the ropes to the moth eaten white sails that strode high and proud into the skies; James tugged hard against the wind. The Raven was slowing down to dock at the nearest port in Nassau, a pirate haven. Listening to the steady commands of Compton, James took note of his direction. Compton was a man of iron, void of practically any emotion or coherent thought process. He did as he pleased, no predilections set him back on his motives. In taking note of Compton's commands, James was sort of better-minting himself to be a more efficient man, so that one day, maybe he could be the Captain at the helm of a ship.
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Masts painted with the flags of nations wielding immense power scour the Caribbean skies
Will you be the next notorious Pirate to claim the seas as yours?
The West Indies are ridden with fear of an overwhelming and unwelcome "militia" of Pirates.
This is an Interest Check/Out-Of-Game Thread
Apps, RP discussion, and more will be posted here.
0
Six Years Ago,
"The One Who Got Away"
Jeffery Ryan and Jennifer Grey,
Primm,
Iridescent in the hot Nevada landscape resided Primm, a small quaint settlement just a few miles from Vegas. It resided comfortably along the route from Goodsprings, well guarded by the NCR, a safe haven for weary travelers passing through the barren wastelands of Nevada. It was one of the few towns that had some uniqueness to it. Most of the towns near the Strip were modernized in Vegas's shadow, dawning the typical attire most had adopted due to popularization of the casino life.
Standing by the front door to the Vikki and Vance casino stood Jeffery and Jennifer, or as they were typically branded by the Nevada folk, Jen and Jeff; wielding high-powered assault rifles.
"Ready?" Jeff asks gruffly.
"You bet I am." Jennifer responds fiercely.
Smiling, Jeff casually turns and kicks open the double doors to the casino. Light shines through the large cap created by Jeff. Raising his assault rifle to the air, Jeff unleashes bullets into the humid casino's air. Immediately, screams follow, glasses break, and pandemonium is stirred within the casino.
"ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY SETTLE DOWN, GET DOWN, IF ANYONE SO MUCH AS MOVES A MUSCLE; I'LL PUT A BULLET IN ALL YALL'S HEADS!" Jennifer commands.
Casino goers quickly shuffle onto their knees, hands raised by their heads, hearts racing. Jeffery quickly rushes over to the chip exchange booth, tossing a rucksack onto the counter before the teller.
"ALRIGHT, FILL IT UP! PUT EVERYTHING YOU HAVE IN THE BAG!" Jeff yells, pointing his assault rifle at the scared, balding teller.
Obeying Jeff's commands, the teller grabs the bag and opens the cash register, removing stacks of NCR dollars, bottle caps, and other treasures and stuffing them into the bag. With trembling hands, the teller places the bag on the counter, slowly backing away; hands raised.
"Let me in; I wanna see your safes!" Jeff commands.
"B-But there's nothing in 'em, we emptied them out last week." The teller responds.
"We'll see about that! Let me in!" Jeff yells, raising the gun to the teller again.
"Okay, okay!" He cries out.
Rushing over to the door, the teller unlocks it and opens it up for Jeff who pushes him aside.
"Open these safes!" Jeff yells.
"We ain't got the time, them NCR will be 'ere any minute!" Jennifer shouts to Jeff.
"To hell with the NCR! Open the goddamn safes, now!" Jeff yells.
The teller grabs his ring of keys from his pocket and fumbles around for each separate safe key. Unlocking the safes with trembling hands, Jeff watches with anxious eyes, looking into the dark boxes for anything valuable. Nothing but left over receipts and documents littered the safes.
"You said they emptied these safes a week ago? Where'd they take the items?" Jeff asks the teller.
"I-I don't know." The teller responds, his eyes glued to Jeff's gun.
"Imma ask you again, where did they take them?" Jeff says raising his gun to the man's forehead.
The man cries out in fear.
"They took them away for the war efforts back in California, they're bein shipped away!" He says, crying.
"Do you know where they might be?"
"I don't know, I swear, please don't kill me!"
Jeff looks onto the mans sobbing face, littered with tears and empty pleads to spare his life.
"Jeff! The NCR, they're headin over, we need to leave!" Jennifer screams.