Mynx

I know I've been buried under RL of late, and I think the Wolf is in the same boat... UPDATE: Tanny is too busy to mod right now; she said to put this on hold and someone else can start up a game if they'd like

You know, Snyp, I probably needed someone like you around when I was a teenager. I sure as hell couldn't tell when a boy was flirting with me... >.> Also: lololol

Candy corn is an abomination so Reese's wins by default. Originals or remakes?

Confirming sign up. Character to come.

Whereas my luck always kicks in that I find myself enjoying the RP too much to act entirely on my suspicions

Carey leaned against the ship's railing and looked out over the water, gnawing on his bottom lip. It didn't feel right. Nothing felt right anymore on this ship, and Carey had no idea what to think. There seemed to be so few of them left, so few possibilities as to who could be the monster. It could even be his friends, and as much as Carey tried not to think about that he couldn't help but consider the possibility. Where did that leave him, then? OOC: Thought I had more but I'm out of words today. Vote for Vene/Adam

"There's just no winning, is there?" Carey said glumly to Kipling as they mopped. No one had told them to - no one was telling anyone anything at this point - but they both felt they needed to do something to keep their hands busy if not their minds. "The monster kills someone, we turn on each other. The monster doesn't kill someone and we still turn on each other." "If the monster is still around," Kipling argued. "We got rid of the Asante, and nothing happened last night." "You heard that noise though. Something wasn't happy and with all the food we're getting right now don't tell me it was your stomach," Carey arched an eyebrow at his friend. When Kipling rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue, Carey managed a brief grin. "So who are the likely suspects now, at this point?" "Depends. How's your luck been on your past suspicions?" "We'll never know, I guess." Carey brooded down at his mop. He still wasn't sure what to make of either the Lieutenant or Michael's behaviour since the attacks had started, and couldn't decide if the familiar mutterings he'd heard were encouraging or concerning. And what did it make him, if all he did was join in with the mob? Kipling's elbow in his side pulled him from his thoughts, and when Carey looked up his friend pointed to where Davey was huddled under the mast. Poor kid, Carey thought. This mess was no place for a minor. Moving closer, Carey made sure the water in his bucket was relatively clean before he dipped his mop in it and flicked some at the young boy. "You been assigned to hold the mast up with your back now?" He asked, trying to keep his voice light. OOC: another vote for the Lieutenant/DoR

Carey grimaced and looked away as Equiano's body was dragged to the edge of the ship and tossed overboard to the sharks, a pair of sailors moving to help the Lieutenant treat the spear in his shoulder. He couldn't quite decide how he felt about the decision; certainly Equiano was - had been - strange and 'other' enough that it wouldn't have surprised him to learn the Asante had access to unnatural powers. But on the other hand, he'd also been the first to warn them... And now they were armed. What could possibly go wrong with that? "Carey?" Davey's timid voice spoke up at his side. "How do I hold this properly?" Glancing down at Davey, Carey blanched when he saw the small boy was peering into the barrel of the musket he'd been given, one hand far too close to the trigger for comfort. "Davey! Don't look down the firing end while it's loaded!" "Oh." Blushing, Davey immediately dropped the barrel. So that it pointed at Carey. Swearing and darting to the side, Carey snatched the musket out of Davey's hands, struggling for a moment to juggle it with the one he'd already been given. "Hell's bells, Davey. Haven't you ever used a gun before?" "Of course I have!" Davey half-glared, half-pouted. Not quite true, actually... but close enough - he did go with his father on a few hunts, and it shouldn't be too difficult to shoot, really. Just hold... and pull the trigger, right? "What kind of a man you think I am?" "A young one," Carey said, shouldering both muskets and holding out his hand. "Maybe you'd better give me your pistol, too." "Hey!" Frowning, Davey slapped Carey's hand away. "I may be young, but I'm still big enough to carry a pistol of my own!" At least it didn't weigh as much as the musket... and wasn't half a big as he was. "How am I going to defend myself from the monster?" "The monster is going to be the least of your problems if you blow a hole in yourself first," Carey scolded. "Or knock yourself overboard from the recoil." "Oh..." The young boy hesitated, looking at the pistol he'd pulled from where he'd stuffed it into the back of his trousers - another cause for Carey to wince. "Can it really do that? If we give one to the monster, do you think the recoil could throw it overboard?" He grinned. Despite himself, Carey laughed - sometimes he just couldn't tell if Davey was being serious. "I don't think the monster has the hands for it, but maybe that's an idea. Here, give me that-" he took the pistol from the younger boy with more gentleness than he'd taken the musket. "Let's go put these below deck and see if we can't scrounge something off Adam, hmm?" OOC: Special thanks to Tanny for writing Davey's parts.

Good to see you again, Boaz

Isn't there a vote in for Adam too?

You can count me in provided you're willing to put up with my ignorance

Carey shook his head slowly at Davey's question, putting an arm around the boy's shoulders and guiding him back out of the way of the crowing crowd. "Just do our best to stay out of it if we can, Davey. Mutiny isn't going to help anyone." "And staying on this death-trap is?" Kipling grunted, arms crossed as he watched Michael's attempts to negotiate. "Maybe we would be better off taking our chances on a skiff." "Don't be a fool, Kip," Carey said harshly. "Hell, for all we know the monster is one of the mercs anyway; where would it get you to be in even closer quarters with one?" "Where's it getting us just staying on this dump and waiting to be butchered?" Kipling countered, though he made no move to join the mutineers. "And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? We don't even. Know who we can trust, Carey." And wasn't that the truth. Keeping his expression neutral and a comforting hand on Davey's shoulder, Carey chewed on his lip as he studied Michael. The man did seem to know an awful lot about the mysterious, but he also seemed to be using it to try and help them. Assuming a cross would hold anything at bay, that was. And what about the Lieutenant? Or Captain now, or whatever. He certainly had gained from the misadventure that had fallen upon them all... OOC: turnabout is fair play 0:) voting for Death of Rats/the Lieutenant

"I still want to know who made that decision," Carey repeated, sipping at the meager amount of rum he was given. "Normally I'd blame the Captain, but..." He grimaced. "Who does that leave, then?" Davey asked, his eyes wide. "The Lieutenant has the rank, I suppose," Adam scratched at his chin thoughtfully. "But a lot of decisions are advised by Equiano." "And he was the first to realise what was going on," Carey mused. "But what about Mister Walters? I can't imagine anyone being in his situation without harbouring a little resentment." "Three possibilities," Adam agreed. "Present company excluded. The question now, though, is who is the more likely threat?"

Carey gave up trying to sleep after Kipling's snoring startled him awake for the fourth time. How it was his friend could sleep even in the most stressful of times Carey would never know. Grumbling a little under his breath at the hour, he slouched off to the kitchen in the hopes of getting something to drink. Surely Adam wouldn't notice if one bottle went missing. The sounds coming from the kitchen soon put paid to that, however, and once he was sure that the noises belonged to Adam and not the monster, Carey shrugged and pushed the door open. "Don't suppose you have some rum you're willing to part with, my friend?" "Rum?" Adam pulled his head out of the larder and looked at Carey. "That's not a snack, young man." "I am eighteen you know." Carey protested. "You and every youngster on this ship." Rolling his eyes, Carey took a seat at the table and started picking at a bread roll. "Something to wash a snack down, then?" He grinned, before sobering quickly and shaking his head. "I can't even get my head around what's been happening. Whose bright idea was it to bring a witch doctor on board anyway?"

Carey didn't sing that morning as he mopped the deck. Not only because it would have been more than a little morbid, but also because he was worried he might throw up if he unclenched his jaw. He'd made the mistake of being too quick to respond to the screams, and had seen more of the bloodied remains than he cared for. Some pirate he'd be, with a stomach weaker than a woman of society. Kipling, working quietly beside him, glanced over at his friend's pale face. "Who do you think it was?" "Huh?!" Carey jumped, cheeks flushing in embarrassment a moment later. "What are you on about?" "Who do you think did this?" Kipling repeated quietly, glancing around to make sure they weren't being overheard. "We'd have found a monster on board by now, and did you hear Equiano going on about a curse?" "I thought he already got rid of that body, though," Carey mumbled, his stomach lurching again at the thought. "Maybe the curse spread," Kipling suggested weakly. "It could be anyone at this point." Carey wished his friend hadn't pointed that out; he was feeling paranoid enough as it was. Glancing up out of habit when he saw motion out of the corner of one eye, Carey frowned when he saw Tiney heading for the lower decks. Odd kid, that one. Odd, scrawny kid. It wasn't hard to imagine someone that small looking for a way to get more strength and power - and strength had definitely been employed in the Captain's decapitation. And Tiney didnt even complain about working down amongst the slaves. Was that just a sign of quiet obedience, or because Tiney was actually working with some of them? Such as the one who had cursed this ship... Shaking his head to dispel the grim thoughts, Carey returned to his mopping. OOC: voting for Tiney/Sweetcherrie