[M] New Beginnings are Never Easy (Murko)

...especially with a pair like this...

Old Rose Harbor is Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld.
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Luella Blythe
Posts: 7
Joined: Fri Apr 05, 2019 12:29 am
Topics: 3
Race: Human
Character Sheet: Luella's Character Sheet
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Writer: Euphoria
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Sat Apr 13, 2019 5:01 pm



7th Day of Bethas, 2719
The Black Dove Tavern

“Another,” was Luella’s gruff demand as she walked up to the bar, sliding a quart’penny across the bar to Mr. Spitz. The older barkeep looked up at her with his grizzled features, accepting the coin with a shake of his head and sliding it into his pocket. Then again, who could really expect politeness among pirates?

“Haven’t seen ye ‘round much lately, Miss Blythe,” the man commented as he poured her another beer, sliding it over the bar’s surface and ignoring the dour expression that rested on her face as if it were born there. “Saw Anders an’ Will sometime las’ week. Was surprised ye wasn’t wi’ ‘em.”

“Anders an’ Will can suck me left tit,” the pirate growled in response, snatching up her ale and offering Mr. Spitz a particularly dark glare. As if to punctuate her statement, she spat violently on the ground next to her before fixing him with that stare again. “Mind yer own clockin’ business, ye nosy ol’ bastard.”

“Been a pleasure, as always, Lu,” the man replied, unphased by the woman’s biting retort. Luella had never been known for her amiable demeanor, and, obviously, today was no different. Mr. Spitz couldn’t help but wonder what had happened with the woman’s crewmates to put her in such a pointedly foul mood, but he wasn’t about to press her. He’d seen firsthand what the fiery bitch would do when she lost her temper.

Instead of a verbal reply, Luella offered only an obscene gesture of her hand, heading back to her preferred table and settling down in her seat. Bringing the swill to her lips, she grimaced, glaring at the mug as if it was single-handedly responsible for all of her life’s ills. “Wonder if he collects the kenser piss for this himself or if he makes Naulanda do it,” the irritated woman muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes, but continued to drink it, nonetheless. It wasn’t like the Black Dove was known for its top shelf liquor.

Tipping her chair back, Luella rested her booted feet on the table and took another swallow of the revolting beverage while she stewed in her own personal medley of anger and resentment. Anders and Will, she thought bitterly, brown eyes glazing over with an emotion akin to rage. Pair o’ chickenshit poxy luggers, those two. It had been Will’s pistol that had forced her off the deck of The Hammerhead’s Prize, and it had been Anders’s voice that ordered it. If I had my way, they’d both be chokin’ on Hulali’s lifeblood and beggin’ for reprieve. Gulping down the rest of her beer, she slammed the stein back on the table. They don’t know who it is they’s messin’ with.

Her murderous reverie was interrupted by a loud guffaw of laughter from another nearby table, Luella reflexively turning in the direction of its source. What she saw had her raising her eyebrows in mild surprise, though the surprise wasn’t exactly a happy one. A Mugrobi man of moderate height with a broad smile that stood to hide the conniving mind beneath and a roguishly handsome face that had the pirate rolling her eyes all over again. Murko Muelton. A name she knew well enough and one she had little fondness for. He was a fellow pirate and a fellow Bad Brother, but their similarities ended there. They’d never held any great affection for each other, and Luella was silently cursing herself for happening upon the tavern at the same time of day as her loose associate.

Sinking down in her seat and letting her hair conceal her face, the woman could only cross her fingers in the hope that he didn’t notice her, perfectly content to wile away the rest of the afternoon alone with the poor excuse for alcohol the Black Dove served. She wasn’t about to leave just because someone she didn’t like was present; if she did that, Luella would never leave her own home. But neither was she keen on the idea of forced conversation with an overly cheerful bastard who’d rob her blind as soon as he’d crack a joke.

Should’ve found somewhere else to drink today, she thought with a grumble, lip lifted in a silent sneer. Not sure why I keep coming back to this hovel in the first place.


word count: 782

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Murko Muelton
Posts: 14
Joined: Fri Mar 22, 2019 2:45 pm
Topics: 4
Location: Old Rose Harbor
Race: Galdor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Satyr
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Sun Apr 14, 2019 6:51 am

7th of Bethas, 2719
The sorrows of morrow were often absorbed by a deluge of liquor. Whelming in the wake, but gone with one's sleep, Murko Muelton bathed himself in whiskey while a second glass festered, untouched, at his right-hand side. There were others around the pirate, of course. The Anaxi to his right was zealous, and his utility in bloodshed was only eclipsed by the swell of his ego. The Mugrobi daw fit to raise a glass with him, but he left it at that. He shook his head, and shooed the man off as beady black eyes followed along the short line that'd formed in front of him.

"Why won' ye give Terrance a chance?" the pirate was asked. Easy was the lie that parted his lips, one eye closed in a playful wink before he raised his hands to his lips to demonstrate a yawn.

"Eh? Well, think on it, kov. What kin' of smuggler's gon' fear the name Terrance? Fresh feet're needed for what's ahead, aye?" he answered before drowning his lips and tipping his head back. The sweet burn of whiskey scorched his throat as Murko let the glass crash to the wooden surface. He shrugged his shoulders, looking over the few that stood in the line with varying degrees of appreciation. All of them without exception were faces he'd seen in similar lines before.

I don' keep a crew for my own reasons, but these sorry fools look like they want to start one wit' me, he mused. He found both an eerie satisfaction in denying them and steep embarrassment at the quality of wretch that he attracted to his call.

"Oi, Terrance," the Mugrobi added, beckoning for the Anaxi to approach as those conniving black eyes wandered past him. He looked through the rest almost as his tongue threw itself ahead of his thoughts.

Is that Luella Blythe? he thought as he found his words. Lips curved into a smirk as he told Terrance, "You can join me... if she does. Figure it out, mate," he said before clapping Terrance on the back and sending him on his way. The Mugrobi Bad Brother watched as the lubber's knees trembled. Even among the common rabble of Old Rose, Luella had a sort of reputation. Vicious. Cold. Brutal. And perhaps... hiding something? Murko heard many things about the woman, and yet... he knew so little as well.

I don' see Doofus and Dingus with her, though. So maybe I've got me an ace, he reasoned. Bad Brothers, even those that didn't like one another, held some sort of rapport.

"Why don' you ask her, Muelton?"

"I plan on it, mate. But then... you'd be sleepin' on the table tonight and not in a cot, hmm?" he nudged, at last extending his arm and pushing Terrance forward and into the fray.

The Anaxi was lanky, with long shaggy black hair framing his face. He stumbled over his legs, making his way towards Luella. He didn't sit, nor did he meet the pirate lass' eyes. His voice, when he spoke, was riddled with fear, though he spoke clearly enough for Murko to hear him from a distance.

"Oi, Blythe. Yer Brother o'er there's goin' on a raid. You... me... 'im... how bout it, yeah? Ye look like you can use a bird," he added, trying to appeal to her reason.

Murko listened, but kept his gaze trained on a game of dice that'd begun to unfold, half tempted to pry open his coin sack and put some shills on the table for the fuck of it all.

Maybe later... he half-promised himself, all too aware of the whiskey at his right festering, untouched, in its glass.


word count: 650
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Luella Blythe
Posts: 7
Joined: Fri Apr 05, 2019 12:29 am
Topics: 3
Race: Human
Character Sheet: Luella's Character Sheet
Post Templates: Luella's Templates
Writer: Euphoria
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Sun Apr 14, 2019 4:22 pm





Luella didn’t even look up when Terrance sat down, her face schooled to careful neutrality even though she’d already overheard every word. Muelton thought sending this trembly-legged swine over here was going to win her over? If so, he had another thing coming.

“Fuck off,” was all she said to the sad, lily-livered excuse for a “pirate” shaking at her side. “Ent interested.” Pointedly ignoring her unwanted companion, she lifted her glass and shook it at Naulanda, who snatched it up to be refilled.

“Come on, Luella, don’ be like that,” the man wheedled, visibly sweating even though the woman had yet to spare him a glance. “Don’ ye wanna get yer hands a li’l boody?”

“Don’ you know wha’ ‘fuck off’ means?” The waitress had already returned, handing off Luella’s beer in exchange for another quart’penny. The pirate grimaced when she took the first sip but persevered, nonetheless. Bad booze was better than no booze.

Terrance sighed, but he wasn’t about to give up. Not yet, not while he still had this kind of chance. “Wha’ else ye really got goin’ on, Blythe?” he persisted, leaning forward and hoping to catch her eye, something which she was stringently avoiding. Opting for a different tack, he went on, “Y’know, we’ve all heard-“

At this, Luella finally caught his gaze, immediately causing the man to regret ever wanting it in the first place. Her own eyes were afire, jumping out of her seat and catching him up by the shirt collar before he could even blink. “Ye’ve all ‘eard what, Terry-boy?” she hissed, her face only a hairsbreadth from his. Terrance gulped, struggling in vain to pull himself from the woman’s grasp. “That ol’ Lu got ‘er ass ‘anded to ‘er by some scraggly whelp wi’ barely a hair on ‘is cheeks?” By now, her own cheeks were blood red, practically breathing smoke from the vehemence in her tone. Just as she had before with her last mention of Will Saunders, she spat on the ground and gave him a rather violent shake. “That wha’ Anders been blabbin’ ‘round town, eh?” She shook her head with a curl of her lip. “Luella Blythe ent no charity case. I ent gon’ be taken in outta pity.”

By then, the area around them had cleared and quieted, just about every eye in the run-down establishment trailed on their little scene. Luella didn’t care; it wouldn’t be the first time she’d inadvertently started a brawl in the Black Dove, and she doubted it would be her last. If it came to it, that was. Growling in frustration, she yanked Terrance out of his chair, slapping him upside the head when he thought to fight her on it. Pulling her “prize” none too gently in the direction of Murko’s table, she let go of him, at last—shoving him to the floor at the Mugrobi’s feet with an expression that made clear her displeasure.

“Listen, Muelton. Nex’ time ye wan’ a job done fer’ye, either do’t yerself, or send sum’un else who ent ‘bout t’piss ‘is knickers wi’ fright.” The look she cast Terrance’s way was nothing short of disdainful, placing her boot in the exposed hollow of his throat. Glancing back up at Murko, her look was no friendlier. “Y’got a proposition fer me? Then y’come talk to me like a man, instead of sending this steaming hunk of kenser shit in yer place.”

Leaning in to punctuate her point, she took hold of the galdor’s chin in a claw-like grasp. “Got it?”


word count: 625
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Murko Muelton
Posts: 14
Joined: Fri Mar 22, 2019 2:45 pm
Topics: 4
Location: Old Rose Harbor
Race: Galdor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Satyr
Contact:

Mon Apr 15, 2019 8:40 pm

7th of Bethas, 2719
Murko Muelton was certainly no fool. He didn't send Terrance to win her over at all. Instead, the galdor used him as a tool to see what the heavily-tattooed pirate lass held behind that impassive expression.

"Fuck off. Ent interested," was the beginnings of a very fruitful conversation. At least, as far as the galdor was concerned. It was almost impressive how Terrance, a human the galdor had fought alongside multiple times, could be so thoroughly undone just by the thought of Blythe. Of course, the sour pirate had her reputation, but there was more to her than the aggressive bitch the rest pf them saw. Murko needed fighters on his side, people with the talent to carry him towards what was now the broken dream of long-form piracy.

Shipment to shipment lootin' ain't what I signed up for, he reasoned, knowing that with whelps and drunken curr at his side he wouldn't get much done at all. The galdor felt the stupor grip at his senses, his feet heavy and his tongue fat even as his sharp mind remained intact. He didn't want a crew, not after the dream of one died with Tom, but the more he thought on it... the possibility was rife with profit.

Blythe is seasoned, unlike the rest of these fools. Even if she don' like people... She don' gotta to slit their throats, he affirmed, more and more taken with the idea of recruiting her. He knew he'd made the effort harder for himself, sending Terrance along, but he needed to see for himself without being directly involved. How deep in the shitter was she, really?

Then, Terrance pulled the dick move.

"Wha' else ye really got goin' on, Blythe?" he began, throwing the conversation into the furnace. Murko shook his head in distaste, knowing the flame that'd come next.

"Y'know, we've all heard-"

And then he was cut off. Finally Luella caught Terrance's eye, and the hell that was in them brought a smirk to Murko's lips.

There it is, he ruminated, quite pleased to see the hatred in those eyes before she cought him by the collar. Then, Blythe spoke out, and she threw her weight around, causing the terrified Terrance to nearly shit himself with fear. Murko watched as she slapped him upside the head, then she threw the other man to the floor in front of Murko.

Rather than be intimidated or remotely displeased by the confrontation, he spread his lips in a grin. He remained seated, moving towards the empty glass of whiskey and setting it on the table in front of Blythe. He motioned for the bar waitress to approach, raising his glass for it to be filled, exchanging it with some coin for her trouble. The waitress couldn't get out of there fast enough, nearly running to the safety of the bar.

"I know how it feels to lose, Blythe. Yer probably seethin'. Gotta get some shit off yer chest. I threw Terrance at ye for the chuckles and gods damn it, I wasn' disappointed. Sit wit' me, we can chat all serious-like, if you wan'. Or ye can remember that you're me Brother, and we can go tear some shit up for the King, savvy?"

He invited the woman to sit in front of him, placing the untouched glass of whiskey well within her reach regardless of whether or not she chose to listen to him. Murko Muelton had every intention of speaking regardless. He provided her no opportunity to speak, for he had more to throw at her before decisions were to be made.

"I dunno what sort of mess yer Dingus and Doofus made out of me oceans, but there's plenty of fish to catch, ay? I've heard some rumours. Some nice rocks that'll get all the junkies nice n' high is up floatin' down the way. With yer skills and me ship, they don' stand a chance. Ye in? Or ye up to stew in yer misery a while longer?"

"And wha' about me?" Terrance chimed in, still, on the floor, his voice a croak at best as Luella's boot continued to hover over his neck.

"Ye'll get what ye deserve if ye deserve it, aye? From wha' I'm seeing, yer jus' a lil bitch with a blade."


word count: 756
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