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Drunken Seas
Many pirates were known for being pilagers and rapists and town-torchers and all around very nasty people. Some pirates were legends, some pirates were infamous, and some pirates just happened to have nothing better to do.
Captain Delilah McIntyre was the last type of pirate. Having been raised in a port town to a fisherman father and mother, it was apparent that it was to remain a family business and Del was the next in line. It certainly was not a prosperous, fortuitous career, but it put food on the table (even if it was fish) and it gave her an education (even if it was about fish) and gave her opportunities to meet other fascinating people (even if most of them were fisherman).
But by the time she was age twelve, it was becoming very clear that Del's heart wasn't in it. It could have had something to do about how she never retained anything she learned about, how she asked for something other than crab for dinner almost every night, or how she sank two boats in the span of two weeks. By the age of sixteen, she had sunk four boats and her family had decided the very best thing would be for her to live with a well-to-do fisherman named Benjamin and his daughter, Katrina.
In their years growing up, the older Del took to Kitty like a pet owner took to a poodle. The girls practiced swordplay and taught themselves how to handle pistols (this resulted in Del's fifth sunken ship, by long story). Finding themselves in a more independent lifestyle, Delilah, at age twenty, stole a ship, painted a new name on the side, and took her younger cousin and ran.
Two years on the open sea hadn't fixed anything.
"I'm not drunk." A slurred, mopey voice gurgled from the captain's quarters. "I said, hmmmnggggI'm not drunk!"
A loud head-meets-desk sound reverberated next and a remarkably loud snore shook the cabin.
"Oh. Okay." A straightfaced, dark-haired girl exited the captain's quarters, moseying around deck. Once at the helm, she paused, addressing the crew: "Gentlemen! Your captain is drunk and fainted!"
A loud gaggle of cheers rocked the ship.
Captain Delilah McIntyre was the last type of pirate. Having been raised in a port town to a fisherman father and mother, it was apparent that it was to remain a family business and Del was the next in line. It certainly was not a prosperous, fortuitous career, but it put food on the table (even if it was fish) and it gave her an education (even if it was about fish) and gave her opportunities to meet other fascinating people (even if most of them were fisherman).
But by the time she was age twelve, it was becoming very clear that Del's heart wasn't in it. It could have had something to do about how she never retained anything she learned about, how she asked for something other than crab for dinner almost every night, or how she sank two boats in the span of two weeks. By the age of sixteen, she had sunk four boats and her family had decided the very best thing would be for her to live with a well-to-do fisherman named Benjamin and his daughter, Katrina.
In their years growing up, the older Del took to Kitty like a pet owner took to a poodle. The girls practiced swordplay and taught themselves how to handle pistols (this resulted in Del's fifth sunken ship, by long story). Finding themselves in a more independent lifestyle, Delilah, at age twenty, stole a ship, painted a new name on the side, and took her younger cousin and ran.
Two years on the open sea hadn't fixed anything.
"I'm not drunk." A slurred, mopey voice gurgled from the captain's quarters. "I said, hmmmnggggI'm not drunk!"
A loud head-meets-desk sound reverberated next and a remarkably loud snore shook the cabin.
"Oh. Okay." A straightfaced, dark-haired girl exited the captain's quarters, moseying around deck. Once at the helm, she paused, addressing the crew: "Gentlemen! Your captain is drunk and fainted!"
A loud gaggle of cheers rocked the ship.