[IC] Strait Up Theft

[Supercape]

Flintlock pulled the knife away, unconsciously. Old men could be a threat, but not this one, she felt. A spark of shame hit her. 

 

Instead, she tucked it away, and stood up. 

 

"I apologise, old man. I had a shadow of suspicion blacken me. The night is full of peering eyes and silent ears. And my friend here, Mr. Jeff, had tales to tell. It seems that many would like my friend to keep silent, and his tales be neither spoken nor heard. Why, I almost though the Squirrels were listening in on us..."

 

"Maybe they are..." she said, giving a suspicious look to said animal. 

 

"Or maybe I have drunk too much. Or too little. Or both..." she finished. 

 

She peered into the darkness, examining the man. Men changed with the years, but still...

 

"I have made introduction to my friend, and you seem to know me. But tell me, in this dim moonlight, I cannot recognise you, good sir. Pray tell, introduce yourself!"

[olopi]

The man’s shoulders lowered much like Flintlock’s knife. He took a few steps closer, walking slowly. Clearly, his age was starting to get to his body, walking took it’s strain.

 

“So you aren’t here for … that. Good. It has been quite a while since I had last heard of you, but judging by your words it seems you’ve not changed a whole lot. Can’t say the same for many people. “

 

The man took a few more steps, by now he was close enough that Flintlock could properly see his face. It was that of an old man, wrinkled and marked by years of hard work. A few scars too.

 

“Hui Jun Kai. Singapore Navy. Used to be a major, but I retired a few years back. We had our fair share of tussles back then. Say, did the Black Flag modernize too, or is it still what it was back then? Judging by your attire, you have gone with the times in that regard, but what about your ship and crew? “

 

Edited June 11, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

Hui Jan Kai!

 

Her memory was a little hazy, what with rum and centuries, and centuries of rum. Everything blended and blurred. 

 

But she did recall some tussles with the Singapore Navy. Some storms, the smell of cannon fire and rain. Cutlasses and sabres, knives and muskets. 

 

"Well greetings good sir"

 

Was this coincidence? The knife was still in her hand. Not raised, but not sheathed beneath her skirt either. 

 

"I do recall some battles, some chases around these seas. Over many years, but not so much recently. Times change, and enemies can become friends. Or the other way" she conceded. "The Black Flag still sails, wood and sail, and black powder. As do her crew" she explained, without reference to the fact they were undead. 

 

"I have come to Singapore to stop...well, truth is, so to speak, I don't know what I am stopping. But methinks it should be stopped. Disappearing cargo, under most mysterious of circumstance!"

[olopi]

The man’s eyes showed a bit of surprise upon Flintlock mentioning the stolen cargo. Clearly he knew something on the subject. Most likely it had to do with his connections to the military, but who knew?

“I see you have heard of it too. I really shouldn’t be surprised considering who you are, but I assumed the military was making sure this wouldn’t spread too much. The fact I know is surprising enough, but that’s the benefit of still knowing people in high places.

So, cargo disappears, people don’t know anything about it. Dealing with this does sound like something down your alley, yeah? “

[Supercape]

"It does, although my alley is dirty, rotten, and smells of stale booze and the water of drunkards" she laughed. She had certainly spent enough nights staggering out, trying to forget about tentacles and bubbling horrors, singing, drunk, and decorating the cobblestones with her excrement and vomit. 

 

"My leaf is turned, Sir, at least, part-ways. The age of piracy is past, and now me eyes are opened. Horrors in this world, horrors in others. Something I would not see on land or sea" she said, a little more grim in manner. 

 

"If 'twas just a regular Pirate, well, I would let ye good folks sail to that mystery, but this seemed out of the normal, beyond ken, it seems. Pray tell, should I be looking? and if so, where would you suggest?"

[olopi]

“If you want to be a step ahead of the people in the military, I suggest you look around on the black market. Recently, there’s been a sudden influx of goods, if my contacts are anything to go by. And it’s everything, from alcohol, machines, to plastic. Surprisingly enough there’s a lot of buyers too. You would expect plastic to not sell, but according to a source, there’s quite a few companies that get theirs like this.

 

Don’t ask me where the black market is however. That, I have never been told, they don’t trust me that much. I don’t know whether or not it’ll lead you anywhere, but I imagine it is where you want to go, if you don’t want to deal with the military. Considering that bounty is still on your head, you might not want to. “

 

The retired major clearly was a bit uncomfortable saying that, he could’ve come off as condescending, or even threatening the pirate standing next to him with a knife in hand, so he quickly added another sentence.

 

“Don’t look at me, I’m retired. I’ve got enough money, and I’ve seen you do enough good, I won’t attempt to claim it. I know what you can do, after all. “

Edited June 15, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

"Ah yes, a fine idea!" replied Flintlock, slapping her thigh. Something she should have thought of. 

 

"Following the trail. Finding what was stolen. But, as you say, as one path is illuminated, it too is obscured. Whence the black market?"

 

Of course, she had dealt with Black Markets in her days. Singapore had a brutal one. The Bone Bucket. Plenty of blood and guts and unpleasant internal organs had spilt on the stone floors there. Sometimes, it seemed more dangerous and violent to sell your stolen goods than to actually acquire them in the first place. Still, it had been over a century since she had fought her way of the Blood Bucket with her crew by her side. It was probably not even open still. And if it was, it surely had changed. 

 

If it had not, that was probably worse still, given the manner of her last clashing of blades at its doors. 

 

A better bet than starting a war with the Singapore military, that was for sure. 

 

"Jeff, help a lady out. Where could I find the black markets of Singapore? Mayhap you hear a loose tongue or two?"

[olopi]

After the old Navy Officer had mentioned Flintlock’s name, Jeff’s expression had changed just a bit. Clearly, he had heard of the swashbuckling sorceress before. It wasn’t an expression of fear, or disgust, or anything along those lines. No, it was one of relief. He looked a lot less stressed than when Flintlock had originally met him, just a few minutes ago. More relaxed, more calm. And a bit more talkative.

 

Black Market? Never been one to search for those. But aye, I’ve spent the last weeks in a bar, so I heard a lot. Drunken ramblings, you know the deal, some true, some less so. Few days ago a bunch of shady folk were saying something about the next gathering being … tomorrow actually. Down by the docks, an old cargo hall. It sounded like they were talking about the black market, talking about merchandise and all. I’m no expert on that business, but that might be worth a look.

 

Edited June 16, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

"It might indeed, my good friends!" answered Flintlock, pleased. 

 

"I think it would be most wise to look. But perhaps under cover of spell, unseen and unheard, hmm?" she said, drumming her fingers together. She wished she had not drunk as much as she had. 

 

For a spell might be in order. And the sorcery she knew was not for the sane or sound, it was for the mad, and terrible it was. Rites to summon Dagon, the Unspeakable one, and to hear the insane piping music at the centre of all things unknowable. 

 

Which meant getting more drunk. 

 

"To the Black Flag! I have books to read and rum to drink. And you are welcome to say, Mr. Jeff, food, and lodgings, and me crew will treat ye well enough. You will have to stomach Gutboy's cooking, though..."

 

"He's French" she added, as if that explained anything. 

 

 

 

 

[olopi]

The former officer said his goodbyes, then continued walking down the road. Not a whole lot of emotion in his stance. Just a slow walk, just an old man enjoying the night. Meanwhile, Jeff and Flintlock took a quick detour to a hotel, where Jeff had left the few belongings he had on him, and packed them into a bag, to bring them with him. A picture of a woman, a few pieces of clothing, and a laptop. He had packed lightly, as was clearly seen.

 

A few minutes later, the two of them had arrived back at the Black Flag. The crew was doing what they were usually doing, and business was as usual. The sea was quite calm, and the sky clear. Yet, there were no stars to be seen, thanks to the vicinity to a major metropolis.

 

Jeff seemed quite amazed by the privateer, the subject of a few tales of the sea itself. He spent some time conversing with the ship’s crew, but retreated to his quarters early on, seemingly quite exhausted by what he had been going through during the past few days.

 

Meanwhile, Captain Annabelle Flint started to prepare a ritual. One like she had done many times before, but not a pleasant one.

Edited June 16, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

The Malleus Maleficarum, The Book of Dyzan, The King in Yellow, Unaspechlichen Kulten...

 

Flintlock skimmed them all, drunk and full of distaste. She tried to not to think too hard. Not for the first time, she was glad she had no copy of the fable Necronimicon to tempt her. She wondered about the Cthaat Aquadingen, that horrible tome she had found, bound in human skin, in Silvermans book store. She doubted that Fae creature would approve. 

 

The shining lamp of Alhazred, the Dust of Suleman, ahhh!

 

The dread mist of Leng!!!

 

Little should be  heard of that ritual. The unspeakable one was spoken. Captain Flintlock locked herself in her library, reciting cantations. Screams were heard. And not just her own. The dread mist of Leng was dank, and both seen and unseen. It was madness. It was a good think that Captain Flintlock was blind drunk when she summoned it. 

 

When the screams and garbled insanities stopped, the door of her library creaked open. There was a wet sound for a moment, and she stepped out. 

 

Except now, cloaked in the mist, she could not be seen by mortal eyes. 

 

"Aye, M' hearties. I be invisible! And now, before I wear this too long and go mad from it, 'tis time to get to see what's been stolen!"

 

 

[olopi]

7^th of June

An old warehouse in the docks, Singapore

Evening

 

 

 

An old warehouse, down in the harbour. Here it was. To Flintlock it wasn’t old, merely a few decades. But, not everybody was immune to the effects of the streams of time. The warehouse, for example, was not. It was just keeping together, a few cracks in the wall, a few broken windows. Suspiciously, there were quite a few trucks parked in close vicinity. Some more subtle than others. And, outside the warehouse, two people. More muscle than man. Both wearing white tees, both looking quite menacing. And, if Flintlock’s experience was anything to go by, both wielding a gun of some sort.

 

Every few minutes, somebody walked into the warehouse. Most of them dressed in black. People of all walks of life, from what appeared to be a lowly street thug, to men looking like he had just come off their personal yachts. A group arrived, got searched, then entered the building. Every 4 minutes a new group arrived, all from the same direction. Clearly, there was some pattern here.  

 

Edited June 16, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

These so called "automatic pistols!" pfmuaha!

 

She patted her antique flintlock. 

 

Ill be keeping my black powder, thank you!

 

Fortunately, there we people around to muffle her footsteps. Unfortunately, there was more chance to bump into somebody. Best be nimble, best be quick. If only her feet would obey her drunken brain. She was a nimble thing, full of sea legs, but alcohol would so stumble the legs. 

 

Invisible as she was, there was, she thought, little risk of being seen. Joining the wake of some new group, she marched into the warehouse, trying not to fall over. She hoped nobody would smell her breath, for she fancied it would be somewhat pungent, full of hours of swirled rum. 

[olopi]

Getting in alongside the crowd was surprisingly easy. While these guards certainly searched everybody, they were not that attentive to their surroundings. Even the sudden smell of lots of rum didn’t seem to affect that much. Considering what the people they were currently searching looking like, it was fair to assume the smell was accompanying the four of them, not an invisible, immortal pirate with magical powers.

 

And so Flintlock arrived inside. The area was a lot bigger than it looked, and actually located on multiple levels. The general warehouse, where lots of people were currently conversing. Some at booths, some within the crowd. Up a stairway, a few more guards. It looked like a former small office section, now some kind of VIP area. And then, there also was a line leading to what probably was a cellar of some sort, once again guarded.

 

The main area itself, a lot of people. There were some small booths set up along the walls. Mostly small-time arms dealers. Various crowds in the areas in between. Some standing around a single person talking. Some just talking with each other. And some people just standing on their own, everywhere. Some more attentive than others, looking around, at the crowd, at the ceiling, where a few dim lights hung. Still, thanks to lamps set up on floor level, the brightness was no problem.

Edited June 17, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

It was busy enough, and, she concluded, dangerous enough. She was drunk, impaired of judgement, and there were just two many guards and people to mean anything but rampant chaos if she was discovered. 

 

Well then, may the mists of Leng and their horrible cling remain a little longer. 

 

She felt a little sick. 

 

The cellar was tempting, but mayhap a ledger or account would be more useful. Pirate or no, she had seen a few maritime bookkeepers in her time. Even had a romance with a French portsman back in 1973. Naive young boy with the most wonderful fingers. 

 

Up the stairs she went, without undue haste, and clinging to the rails. 

 

Avoiding the guards as best she could, she crept to the office, peering in...

[olopi]

Getting in was not nearly as easy as getting past the first guards. These guards paying more attention, Flintlock needed to keep a fair bit of distance. And also, the amount of people walking to the area was significantly lower. After a good ten minutes of waiting, trying her best to not get noticed, a man hastily moved up the stairs.

Of Chinese origin probably, wearing a black suit and sunglasses. From his face, it was easy to tell he was late, and that he had just ran quite the distance. The two guards standing at the door further up the stairs noticed him. They seemingly knew him, as they opened the door as soon as they saw him. A valuable mistake, as it allowed Flintlock to quickly slip inside, without having to try and get past the man currently running upwards. As the moved through the door, one of the guards moved his nose. He had probably noticed the smell of rum, but he didn’t move or do anything else, so chances were he thought it was nothing big.

Inside the room, it was quite cramped. Only a small light, lighting up a table in the middle of the room. And around said table, people on all sides. An estate of about 14 people, all standing, only a bit of personal space. Most of them wearing suits. Currently, there was little organization. Everybody was clearly waiting, some spent their time talking, others by looking around cautiously. Flintlock managed to notice the latecomer was now rushing into the room, running right at the bit of space she was currently occupying!

[Supercape]

Azazoth be damned! I is in for it!

 

She stumbled this way, stumbled that way. Neither her drunken head nor her drunken feet knew which way to turn. They both came to an excellent decision, one which would guide her from a collision. 

 

And yet, her drunken head and drunken feet had taken different decisions, and as a result she twisted, spun, and stumbled, and collapsed into the rushing man. 

 

There was a hiss, a smell of rotting roses, and a damp sickly wetness to the air. The dread mists of Leng lifted from her body, back to the land of nightmares. 

 

"Ah! Gazooks! D'ya fancy a dance, handsome?" she asked the man she had stumbled into, looking at him with drunken eyes, clinging to his tie, and puckering her lips, which gave out a pungent alcoholic odour. 

[olopi]

The atmosphere took a sudden change. Where before it was cautious and disorganized, suddenly everybody stopped what they were doing. Complete Silence, and all eyes turned towards the now-uncovered pirate. Nobody really knew how to act, they all stood there, doing their best to not have the smell off the broken spell affect them. Showing weakness was not good at a place like this. All and all, the scene was awkward primarily. Nobody wanted to take the first move, everybody waited for what the people standing next to them would do.

 

Meanwhile, the man that had rushed in was lying on the floor. Having suddenly slipped, and having caught his leg beyond the force of him falling down. And also, having a fully grown person on top of him. At this distance, Flintlock was able to make out a scar, drawn down his entire right cheek.

 

“Wha-?“

Edited June 18, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

"Aye, you be a handsome fellow, I just had to kiss you!" said Flintlock, pecking his cheek. 

 

She got, up unsteadily, planted her feet on the ground, and her hands on my hips. 

 

"Now this, my friends, is a party! I had to come! It would not be seemly to miss out on the guns and knives" she declared, eyes indicating the surely - armed guards. 

 

"Allow me to introduce myself" she said boldly, bowing deeply. 

 

"My name is Captain Flintlock, scourge of the seven seas. And seas beyond" she declared. "Now, I heard this is the place to do trade, and more than that, the place to trade in things that would not otherwise be traded elsewherelike" she said, mangling her words but doing so with steel. 

 

"I come to sell, I have Penguin fat from the Arctic, Elephant Horn from Africa, Spanish Gold, French Furs, and even, if you have the money, the famed black moon-eye of the Nile!" she waffled. "But most of all, I come to buy!" she said, calling their bluff. 

[olopi]

The silence continued. The tension in the room was sharp.  Nobody really wanted to be the first to act still. The guards looked inwards in a mix of disbelief and uncertainty, while most of the men in the room took a step backwards. Some may have known of the Captain, but all in all, if somebody dressed in unusual clothes suddenly appear in a room, taking a step back was always a good option. Meanwhile, the man had gotten up again, and joined the crowd with its safety distance.

 

An old man standing at the table, opposite of the door, raised his hand. The guards turned around, and continued looking outwards, making sure nobody got into the room. Then, the man, clearly a leader of some kind, started to speak. Slowly, with an Australian accent.

 

“It appears we are complete now. So, let us begin. As you all know, we have gathered here because of the yakuza’s recent attacks. For years, our city has been peaceful, everybody minded their own business. But now, they dare directly attack us. We cannot accept this. This goes against every tradition we, as groups, have. I have called you here because we need to discuss how to put an end to this. …“

Edited June 18, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

Whats an Australian doing here? Bunch o' em descended from Crooks. And worse, prison guards!

 

She gave a little smile. How she wished she was not drunk. Still, restraint was not in her nature, and neither was it, in her experience wise. Or fun. 

 

"Damn the Yakuza!" she said, shaking her fist and spitting on the floor. "I'll gut 'em like a rotting fish! Let me at them! I'll make a soup of their entrails! Spiced with chives!" she added for effect. She always quite liked chives. 

 

"Where are they? If they attack us directly, I say we directly attack back! No surrender! No Mercy! Victory!" she said, loud and proud. 

 

Of course, she had no intention of a gang war. But on the other hand, the mood was tense, and confidence was her shield. Or so she hoped. 

[olopi]

A second or so of silence followed Flintlock’s remarks, then suddenly, a second person joined in, and soon the entire room was loud and unruly, all talking about the yakuza and how they’d deal with them. A lot of talking followed. Some more pleasant than other, some more organized than other. All in all, a good hour was spent talking about the yakuza. The various representatives of organized crime did not come to a conclusion however. Everybody had their own ideas, and how they would get there. There was quite a situation developing here. Maybe it would be something to look at later. But alas, no information could be gathered about the strange happenings that had brought Flintlock here in the first place.

 

And so, the talks were coming to their close. Some people started to leave, some of them happier than others. Most of them did their best to avoid Flintlock, but some didn’t really pay her too much attention. People were only slowly leaving the room, so if anybody wanted to talk to somebody personally, now was the time.

Edited June 18, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

Flintlock collared the nearest gentleman. Or at least the nearest Gentleman she judged to be of weakest character and flimsiest resolve. 

 

"Ahoy there my friend" she said, blending a lippy seductiveness with a grey steel to her eyes. "Tell me, what do you think of the Yakuza? Spineless swine, to be sure, but how do you think it has come to this? A war of bullets and knives might fill the streets. Why would they risk such blood?" she asked, pressing him. 

 

"What have they done to you?" she asked, a pertinent and penetrating question of a personal nature. "Why do you join this night? I know I have my quarrel with them, but before we stand together, I would know what bends your heart to stab and shoot and cut throats by moonlight?" she said, all bluff and iron. 

[olopi]

The gentleman with the weakest character in this case was a rather young man. Most people in the room certainly had some experience, but he looked a fair bit younger than all others. Dressed as back as them, but no grey in his hair. He hadn’t expected Flintlock to speak to him, but he handled the surprise quite well. His answer probably wasn’t spontaneous, but more something he’d prepared should the question come up.

 

“They’re … on our turf. Selling things for less money. We’ve been making a lot less profits. And we’re the lucky ones. Some had their boys killed. Some had their places burned. For us, they’ve only done some provocation, no direct attacks just yet.

 

 But, you can’t always wait for things to go wrong first. Sometimes you have to act. I won’t go for violence for some minor thing. But all this – yeah, we might just have to act the violent way. I highly doubt they’ll accept talking, considering they’ve been aggressive. Too bad, really. “

Edited June 20, 2016 by olopi

[Supercape]

Young and stupid. Maybe not stupid, mayhap. But young. 

 

"Why, can't be the standing for turf - takin'!" she answered, slapping fist into palm. 

 

She was hardly a businesswoman. Her long life had been taking or paying or selling, but not in what might be termed a regular business model. But it was still skullduggery, still thieving. 

 

Whilst she had little sympathy for thieves and backstabbers, despite (or perhaps because) she was a distant cousin to organised crime, she knew the reality of blood and broken bones. Lives taken, and lives broken. And not just those of the warring thieves. True, the cut throats cutting each others throat would not right highly on her agenda, but on the other hand this smelt funny. A needless war, despite the relative virtue of the soldiers, was still needless. 

 

"Tell me though, how do we know it was the triads, and not some chess master playing us like unwitting pieces? Things move strangely in the shadows, and I would not be taken for a fool, or, worse, as a tool!"