The Hog's Head [Open]

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

The tension in the room was subtle, no one walking in suddenly would notice it, but everyone who'd been there since the beginning of the night had noticed the jabs between two men playing cards. There were other gents around the table, sure, but it was these two guys that were the ones stirring up the trouble. One was the toothless chap with gray chin-hairs, a middle-aged sailor of less than reputable standard; he looked like he'd drank here steadily every night for the last thirty years. The other was a younger, dirty blonde with one eye, pleased as peaches with the money he was pulling out of this game, and pleased further still by the steady stream of responses he had flowing in retort to the sailor's cursory cursing.

"I'll string you up by yer' heels if you win this game." The man grimaced, drawing a new hand for a new game. "I s'pect luck isn't part of yer strategy." He spat to the side, taking a swig from his mug.

The blonde lazily drew another card, half-filling his hand before he looked back up to the elder gent, a subtle tip that he was both losing his patience, and gaining confidence. "I had yer mam up by the heels less'n a fortnight ago, if ye catch me." His intoxicated slur was hardly detracting from the intense look in his eyes. A thin strip of smoke rose off his cigar. "Asides, you sayin' I'm nat playin by yer rules? I'm usin' the same cards as the next guy."

The sailor sprang up out of his seat, ready to brawl, but he hadn't launched across the table yet. "We all know yer a swindle, boy."

Alabaster stood up, staring at the other, unfaltering, from beneath his bandana. "Well, I suppose if that's the way it'll be between us, we oughta settle it right." He picked up his mug. "A toast!" He then exclaimed to the bar at wide, and said nothing, pulling his cigar out of his mouth. Saying nothing, he downed the entirety of the mug, and then spat it back in a spray at the sailor's face, simultaneously flicking his cigar and causing it to ignite the alcohol in a bright flash. "To Justice!"

[/blockquote]

[prythian]

The man, outraged at the sudden noxious spray in his face, was just rearing back to hit Alabaster when the alcohol ignited in a flash, knocking him back several feet-

-right into a rather LARGE, muscular man, wearing nothing but pants. He was also bald for some inexplicable reason. "I don't appreciate you callin' my friend a cheat." He rumbled, standing up and placing his large hands on his shoulders. He shoved him back away from him, knocking over a nearby group of chatting sailors.

Within a minute, a full-blown brawl had broken out in the bar. Enamon smiled cheerfully, revealing missing teeth, as he punched another man square in the face, giving him a smile to match Enamon's.

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

A raucous laughter burst from Alabaster as he rolled beneath a table, having a general idea of which direction Enamon'd want to take this. Some of the other men in the bar watched the skinnier of the pair with odd looks before the bar had been embroiled in a full-fledged brawl. This was the pumping-blood that made every evening truly worth it. Having a good time. Living in the moment.

Placing his hands on the underside of the table, Alabaster sprang up and forward, pushing the table up and into a group of three men beating each other. He was so entertained by these exploits that as he turned, laughing to find someone else to tango with, he didn't even realize what he was seeing- until it was smashed and broken over his face causing him to stumble back. A shattered chair leg in the hands of the man across from him. Alabaster pointed with a bloody grin. "You cheeky bastard!" He cried, hollering and laughing before he launched a fist at the man's jaw.

[/blockquote]

[prythian]

Enamon, meanwhile, was having his own difficulties in the bar fight. Not being the brightest fellow, he had made himself into the largest target in the brawl, leaving himself wide open. He continued bashing fellows in the gut, happily grabbing two of the men leaning over and smashing their heads together, letting them drop.

But the difficulty came in the fact that the bar had a second floor, and tables dropped from it hurt. A lot. As the flimsy wood broke over him, he looked up with pain in his eyes... and began wading through the brawl towards the pillars that held up the balcony of the second floor.

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

Alabaster was in the middle of a scuffle with three or four gents, having the time of his life, smashing a glass over this guy's head and taking a swig while he kicked that lad in the stomach. And that's when a certain, toothless and tattooed individual brandished a blade before him. "Hey, hey, brother. None of that now."

[/color] He tried to detract the man, but the blade was swung quick, and Alabaster barely rolled backwards across a table to avoid it. He looked above the crowd to see Enamon. He seemed to be holding his own fairly well, but he had a certain look in his eyes. Alabaster didn't have long to ponder, as the slash of a blade came at him from his peripheral, and he jumped behind the bar.

But maybe it would have been smarter to face the sailor with the sword. Behind the bar crouched the tender and the owner, both with furious looks in their eyes as they loaded a rifle a piece, and several pistols, and he'd practically landed in their laps. As they looked up to him, they sneered, and lifted one of the several pistols. "Ah, greetings, sirs!"[/color] He yelled, but even then he was up and dashing away, along the counter and away from the two men. A gunshot rang out behind him, and even then he was dashing across the thick heads of the men. "Enamon! We're shippin' off! The guns are about to come out!"[/color] He shouted through the din of the fight, as he dropped down beside the larger other, and began to make way for an exit.[/size][/blockquote]

[prythian]

Enamon's head lifted up, and he changed his course, automatically following Alabaster's instructions. It was instinct for him now, and he moved towards the nearest wall to the outside. He lifted one hand as he got there, balling it into a fist- no time to try and get to the door, after all- and struck the wooden wall a mighty blow, tearing open a hole large enough for him to simply walk out.

Which, of course, he then did, wooden fragments scattering across the street. He then looked about, not seeing Alabaster yet. "Alabaster?" He called, seeming undecisive. "Alabaster!"

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

Alabaster hadn't exactly suspected Enamon to take the conventional route, so when he went straight for one of the flimsy walls, Alabaster couldn't be too terribly shocked. However, he had his own problems to deal with didn't he? As now, a group of men had gathered between him and any chance of exit. There was hardly any time more, as Alabaster decided he wanted out now. He pulled out his pistol and shot up in the air, to tense the other men up, then shot a foot right into a small man's beard. The guy shot out a window, and it opened up enough of a path for Alabaster to dash toward and dive through.

He managed to catch himself on his feet despite skittering on the glass a little, and miraculously he avoided the form of the small man, who was now unconscious. "Right here mate."

[/color] He reassured the other. "Better make our way out of town for the night."[/color][/size][/blockquote]

[prythian]

As usual, and right on cue...

"You lead." Enamon said, nodding, his anxiety gone now that his partner was back. He picked up the unconscious man, moving him over to the other side of the street, and sitting him up, so that the next person out the window wouldn't land on him, and then moved back to Alabaster, all silently.

He stood there and waited for Alabaster to move, avoiding the glass on the ground now that the man had been moved.

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

Alabaster smiled. Enamon's surprising attentive carefulness was sudden and stark sometimes. You didn't think of him like that most times, the big lug. And yet the careful, thoughtful movement of the man was both productive, and afforded Alabaster a solitary moment to make his official decisions on which way to go. He'd lost his previous day's wage, considering the game had never officially ended and all his munny had been on the table that he'd tossed around. Well, he had a little bit, but not much. Just for the sake of it, he tossed the last of his coins toward the broken-out wall. Who knew, there might be a small chance the owner would pick them up.

So they couldn't stay anywhere in town, or else run the risk of running into grumpy officials. And jail was the last place either of them would enjoy being. "This way."

[/color] The ex-sailor directed, starting his way down the darker direction of the alley. "Should take a few minutes to get from here to the beach. It'd be best to avoid any trouble if we can."[/color][/size][/blockquote]

[prythian]

"Aye, Alabaster." Enamon nodded. He followed after, at ease even within the darkness of the alley. And why should he be scared of the dark? His partner was here, and he was really strong. If any supernatural being of the darkness threatened him, or the ghosts of his past came upon him, he could beat them up.

...Just in case, though, he flexed his muscles nervously, like he always did in the darkness. Alabaster would know that he did it to frighten away the spirits that haunted in the dark.

When he got to the beach, though, he had to speak to Alabaster about something.

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

Alabaster watched their routes warily. He wasn't exceptionally quiet, but he was dramatically aware. Looking down alleys and listening around corners when he could. And generally it paid off, maybe because Alabaster was exceptionally careful, and would stop them until he was completely sure a road was empty of drunkard's rats and late-night roughnecks looking for some easy coin. But as they got to the end of their path, Alabaster knew the sailing had been too smooth. It was just two or three more turns, and they were off without a hitch, but for maybe the third time so far the one-eyed sailor put up the signal to stop, the subtle sound of a shifting boot-heel passing by. It was a soon Alabaster knew too well. Naval boots. Nothing else sounded so stiff and staccato against cobblestones. Not in a town like this.

Maybe it was against his better judgement, but he inched just to the opening of the street, and peered down. Three men stood about the gate leading out of town to the beach. It was strange, because if anything they ought to have been patrolling, but they looked of a higher rank than your guardsmen. They were just barely out of earshot for now, but Alabaster looked back to Enamon, as if wondering whether he would want to chance moving closer to hear what they were saying.

[/blockquote]

[prythian]

Enamon wasn't sure what, exactly, Alabaster was looking at him for, not being in a position to peer like he had. So, he simply shrugged, leaving the task of thinking to Alabaster, like usual. After all, he'd gotten them through this maze without being spotted so far. He nodded towards Alabaster indicating the direction his thoughts, if they could be called such, had been running.

Then he looked behind them, preferring to watch their backs in case someone had been coming from the other way too.

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

With the relative consent of Enamon, Alabaster stole a short ways forward, hiding in the shade of a doorway. A jagged chalkline of lunar light scrawled across his one eye, placed there by the hand of a child moon peering over the edge of a rooftop across the way. Alabaster's ear twitched.

"They're late." One of the men spoke to the others. "Late?

[/i] A scoff whipped back, "By their standards, I'm sure they're perfectly on time."[/i] The skittish one spoke again. "Hmmph. They seemed different-" The third, and more authoritative spoke up. To Alabaster, the voice was familiar, even from this distance. "Whether they call themselves Privateers or Pirates does not make them different from one another. But do not worry, Samuel. This... unexpected development works to our advantage."[/u]

Captain Shay. Alabaster slipped slightly several small stones skittering across the road. The three men looked up immediately to see Alabaster already moving out into the open, having moved to a more. "What's this I hear about pirates, cap'n?"[/color]

The skittish one was quick to fall back, but the other two had their weapons half-drawn. "Who is this drunkard, Timothy? An acquaintance?"[/i] Captain Shay was quick to denounce his relation to the man. "I don't know him,"[/u] Then he leaned in close to his companion. They both seemed to ease, but with the navy it was hard to tell precisely how they were feeling. "But he has some familiarity with us, so it would be rude to ignore his interest. How can we help you sir?"[/u] The two men approached slowly, the timid peeking up from his hiding place.

Alabaster palmed his gun, though did not lift it out of his coat just yet. "Whatcher sayin, cap'm?"[/color][/size][/blockquote]

[prythian]

Enamon waited back for a few moments, weighing his options... Follow Alabaster, or don't. Pretty easy choice for him. He followed Alabaster out towards the group, the large man looking intimidating without even trying. He glanced at the two men with half drawn weapons, and scowled. "I don't like it when men look like they're about to attack my friend." He rumbled, looming.

He walked over to stand right besides Alabaster, his sheer force of presence probably drawing attention to him and the large sledgehammer hanging down from his belt. "No, I don't like that at all."

[The Mysterious Mr. Jameson Q.]

As Enamon approached, the timid guard who had just peeked up immediately dashed off; obviously he had no intentions of fighting in the first place. That left the other two, who had drawn their sabers, although they knew the odds didn't look good. Alabaster drew his rapier and pointed it forward, pistol in his offhand. "Thanks for the help Enamon, no doubt this rabble'd be a lot more trouble without you."

[/color]

His eyes focused on his ex-commanding officer, Captain Shay. He had a hook nose, and was relatively slim. While the other a little heavier, with a considerable amount more of muscle, while his facial features were more squinty. The two muttered something to each other.

Alabaster took a step up and launched forward, Rapier at the ready.[/size][/blockquote]

Marking: Captain Shay