Log in

No account? Create an account
Where there is a sea there are pirates
Life's pretty good, and why wouldn't it be? I'm a pirate, after all
Lost in thoughts until... 
6th-Sep-2006 04:13 pm
It has been about two hours since his “delightful” conversation with his best friend, and fleet admiral Draven Rimington. These two hours were spent doing nothing in particular besides chit chatting with soldiers within the gray building that housed much of the navy’s superiors in Port Royal. It was built for the politics and gatherings of officials that had busied them selves into any form of military action within this “pirate’s” port.

Taiven found it silly to attempt a massive reconstruction of the port. It was and still is considered a haven for buccaneers. Absolute poppycock in his mind to start a “war” upon their own turf, and expect a pleasant atmosphere to continue. There were natives to worry about, or was he the only one that had thought of them?

It is different to chase pirates out on the sea, but to start a battle…a conflict…around small children, that wasn’t civilized. Taiven knew that most men in the military didn’t care for the natives – the races were different and thus made these natives “worthless” – but he also figured that these men were blinded by their hatred. Children are children anywhere – any race, any gender, any religion, ect.

He hated the thought of fighting and killing men for sport – public hanging for example – in front of these children. It would have to be hard upon them, not to mention dramatizing.

All of his thinking was interrupted abruptly by the rumbling of his stomach, and these thoughts would have to be second rate now.

The commanding Lieutenant knew it was raining quite steadily outside but that didn’t bother him at the least – he wasn’t going to take an umbrella, or a raincoat.

Saying his goodbyes to his soldiers Taiven sung the door to the building open and started making his way towards a little restaurant.
7th-Sep-2006 03:56 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
He gives a quick sharp nod and snaps backwards while slamming the window closed. Draven with one gesture locks the window swiftly, and does the same to his door after he exists it with a large umbrella tucked under his left arm.

Draven just nods at the secretary and doesn’t give a word. Just an assumption – Draven never feels that he must explain his actions.

Just as soon as he opens and hears the fast shut of the door the umbrella is open before a drop hits him. With a fire to his step Draven makes his way over to Taiven, “Bloody good than,” he points with his open hand, “Lead the way Tarragon.”
7th-Sep-2006 03:58 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
He walks along side of Draven but not under the umbrella, “You can be so uptight good friend.” Taiven sticks his hands deep into his pockets, and watches the drips of rain fall from his hair that is slicked onto his face.
7th-Sep-2006 03:59 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
“You know what I hate Tarragon?”
7th-Sep-2006 03:59 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
7th-Sep-2006 04:00 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
“Deeper than that…”
7th-Sep-2006 04:00 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
“All living and breathing creatures?”
7th-Sep-2006 04:00 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
Rolls his eyes, “Well yes, but more specific than that…”
7th-Sep-2006 04:01 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
“Your deceased wife?”
7th-Sep-2006 04:01 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
“Less server than that…”
7th-Sep-2006 04:02 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
“Less server than that? And not those choices? I haven’t the foggiest than.”
7th-Sep-2006 04:03 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
“Your dry witty sarcasm.”
7th-Sep-2006 04:04 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
Smiles, “But you did say “witty” so I shall take a compliment when I am given one!” He stops right in front of a restaurant and points to it, “Here Rimington.”
7th-Sep-2006 04:04 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
Looks disgusted, “Quaint.”
7th-Sep-2006 04:05 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
“I thought you would approve! You were the one that invited yourself.”
7th-Sep-2006 04:06 am (UTC) - Re: The hell?
“You could have told me “no” and saved me the disgust,” he walks into the building and shakes the wet umbrella on their floor with no care in the world.
This page was loaded Jan 19th 2019, 2:07 am GMT.