Venefyxatu

Whoops - I was going to play too! The theme is indeed quite... intimidating :-) Allow me to introduce Soido Topleaf... at least if we can find him. Soido? Soido, get over here! It's not as if these people are going to eat you! *snickers* That scrawny little guy coming out of hiding there would be him. The poor guy inherited the family butchery about three weeks ago. Too bad he can't stand the sight or smell of blood. Makes him nauseous at best, unconscious at worst. Not the bravest, but rather eager to leave the business in his wife's more than capable hands. She's good with a cleaver. Really good.

It's been too long since I read the books, so I couldn't tell the difference between them and the movies from memory if my life depended on it. As long as that is not grounds for a real-life lynching, I'll play

There seems to have been a lot of luck on the villagers' side in this game. Good times were had Patrick, I believe Wolf-Lady is considering a game: http://patrickdurham.net/themightypen/index.php?/topic/17315-werewolf-possible-new-game/

Like just about everyone else on the ship, Adam had heard the shot and the ensuing commotion. He was just on his way back from another late night spent in the kitchen, having finished the last of the cleanup duties some time after Michael had gone back to his cabin. With his own pistol in one hand and his cross in the other he continued on his way, not sure whether he should try to run for the relative safety of his own cabin or try to be as quiet as possible. The beast nearly did get a kill, as Adam's heart skipped a few beats when he saw it bolt through a door further down the hallway. There seemed to be something... familiar about it, too. He did not sleep well that night. For once, he couldn't get out of the kitchen fast enough. His usually so beloved activities weren't enough to distract him so as soon as breakfast was done he made his way up to the deck to get some fresh air. He lumbered over to the railing but froze when he saw Carey and Davey leaning on it. With what he'd seen last night flashing thorugh his mind again he almost didn't dare, but then he figured that the curse had, so far, only acted at night and decided to risk it. He went to lean on the railing next to them and shook his head sadly. "I can't blame you, you know. Carey, for a while I thought it was you. But after what I saw last night... I know it isn't. I should have seen it. We all should have seen it. After all, a curse affects the weakest minds first, doesn't it? With the Lieutenant it was obvious. He was never the most stable mind on the ship. He probably would've flipped on one of the next voyages anyway. And Davey... with you always being so uncertain. Are you even aware of it? Or is it nothing but bad dreams to you?" OOC: Dammit! Took too long to write my post Rewrote, but keeping the vote for Tanuchan / Davey

Even Adam, usually at ease in his kitchen, was glad he was carrying the pistol around now. Not just because of the curse; he'd seen how little conventional weapons helped against that. No, with all the murders added on top of the curse, if a mob did come for him, at least he wouldn't go down without a fight. And if the beast did come for him... all he could do was hope that the cross would have some effect. When Michael came down to the kitchen for a drink, Adam sat down with him. He was about done for the day anyway and could use a drink himself as well. "You're right. If only the captain had still been alive, he'd at least be able to keep the men in line. But now? We're fast on our way to becoming a ghost ship..." They sat in silence for a while, both men lost in sombre thoughts, until Adam suddenly looked up. "If I survive this, I'm never setting foot on another ship again. There's a cute redhead in our destination port... I think I'll marry her and start an inn, just like all the retired adventurers in the stories. What about you? What are you going to do if you survive?"

The unfamiliar weight of the pistol on his belt bothered Adam, but at least he'd managed to avoid having a musket forced on him. That would've been a bother in the kitchen! He filled bowls with rations that were bigger than usual: with so many deaths and desertions they had plenty to spare. And with mutiny only a hair's breadth away and a too narrow escape still fresh in the Lieutenant's mind, the extra grog rations continued as well. Anyone who complained about getting too much food (and, to Adam's surprise, there were quite a few) got told off gruffly. "Are you trying to fatten us up?" "Eat it. You can't defend yourself on an empty stomach. No use starving yourself to make yourself look less tasty, either. If that beast was out for substance I wouldn't be standing here." He kept filling bowls until everyone was served. There was a lot of talk among the men today, and none of it was good. Accusations were flying, both openly and muttered under breaths, and more than once he had to use his ladle to swat someone over the head in order to prevent a fight breaking out right in front of him. The talk kept his own thoughts returning to the big question as well: who? Whose mind was weak enough to be affected by the curse? One of the youngsters? He doubted they'd have the cunning to hide it for very long. The carpenter? Why would he be handing out crosses to ward off the beast if it was him? The Lieutenant, though... always walking the exact same path on the ship, as if the slightest change in routine would knock his mind off balance. He couldn't put it out of his mind... OOC: Death of Rats, I hope you don't mind me making assumptions about grog rations and motivations! If you do: let me know (either via PM or public shaming) and I'll change my post accordingly. Also: that you don't mind that I'm still voting for you/the Lieutenant

While he still wasn't sure how he felt about giving double rations to slaves, Adam prepared them without protest. The distinction between ordinary men and slaves suddenly became a lot less important when a bloodthirsty beast could be tearing anyone apart as soon as the sun set. As soon as most of the lunch preparations were done, he made his way up to the deck as well. He wanted some fresh air, and maybe one of those wooden crosses the carpenter was handing out. When he came across Michael and was offered a wooden cross, Adam took it gratefully and put it on a piece of string around his neck. "Thank you mr. Walters, I'm sure a lot of the men will sleep better because of this." He wanted to say more, but at that moment the mercenaries barreled past and separated them. Riots and mutiny... as if this ship didn't have enough problems yet. And Equiano taking on more of a leader's role. Then again, the orders made sense and were given with a lot more confidence than those of the Lieutenant. He wondered whether last night's discussion with the youths made any sense at all. After all, the curse could have affected anyone, not just the ones who were responsible for bringing the witch doctor on board. Still, there were more pressing matters right now... He made sure to stay off to the side - he'd be no use in a fight. Too much of a target. OOC: Voting for the Lieutenant / Death of Rats Edit: added vote, not enough inspiration / time for a new IC post

Adam patted the kid on the back and, when he had calmed down a little, gave him some water to wash the rum down with. "Here, drink this and be a little more careful next time. Or do it often enough that you get used to it. Either way works." Then he got a pensive look on his face while the two youths discussed the possibilities. Eventually he shook his head, unable to figure out who would be more to blame. "I'd see the Lieutenant and Equiano as equally responsible. Both of them should've known better. Mister Walters might feel some resentment but in all honesty, I wouldn't want to be on board of this ship if a cage breaks and there's no carpenter around. Besides, I don't think he gets involved in much of the decision-making around here."

Upon seeing the other youth enter his kitchen, Adam grumbled, "Looks like I'm not the only one who can't sleep. I suppose you'll be wanting something to wash down your midnight snack with as well?" Without even waiting for the reply, he put down a piece of bread and a small amount of rum in front of Davey. He hadn't planned on sharing that, especially with the youths, but then again... they might all be dead tomorrow. Besides, he doubted they'd be able to get drunk off the small amounts he was handing out. "Be glad ours were the only sounds you were hearing, boy. Something tells me there's going to be a lot worse sounds before this night is over... we never should have brought that witch doctor on board."

Adam slept poorly that night. As if being on a cursed ship with a monster on board wasn't bad enough yet, the sailors were now trying to apply their own brand of justice. Two attacks in one day in addition to the gruesome attack by the victim of the curse last night was a little too much for his liking. After nearly flipping out of his hammock for the umpteenth time that night, he got out with a groan and decided to go for a midnight snack. If nothing else, at least the food would calm his stomach a little. He briefly considered that it might not be safe, but then again, staying in his cabin hadn't exactly done the captain much good, either, had it? He shuffled to the kitchen to see what was left of his stash of extras for this trip... OOC hint for anyone who might have trouble sleeping and feels like writing a post in which Adam is encountered: even though he never officially announced it it's fairly common knowledge that he will happily hand out extra snacks on occasion, especially in stressful times. An empty stomach only adds another reason for stress!

There was none of the usual joking or tomfoolery in the food line that day but there were all the more muttered conversations. Talk of one of their own being cursed and having killed the captain. As he handed out the food and extra grog rations, Adam couldn't stop his mind from wandering in that direction as well. Who? Who would do such a thing? Everyone had shifty eyes today as trust seemed to be evaporating quickly. Then again, there was a reason to distrust everyone; if it really was a curse, there wouldn't even have to be a motivation. OOC: voting for everyone. Yes, everyone. No exceptions. That includes you, Patrick

Adam was, obviously, in the kitchen, grunting orders to his apprentice while he himself took care of the more delicate jobs. It was interesting, having to cook for both the crew and the cargo; usually the cargo got whatever was left when the crew was done. He had to admit that he rather preferred it this way; Equiano had taught him about the ingredients he supplied and the food he could make with them, and once he got the hang of working with them, he'd started experimenting. Some extra spice here, a different vegetable there, subtly altering the taste of each meal. He sampled everything before it left his kitchen, and he had to admit that he actually liked the African food. At lunch, the crew lined up in front of his kitchen. Everyone got a big spoonful out of the huge pot he'd prepared today's stew in. The ones who had complained too often already had their food land in their bowl with slightly more speed than the others, resulting in splatters and annoyed grumbling. Still, nobody dared to protest too loudly. Not since the time Jacob had attacked Adam, and gotten some special spices in his next meal. The whole ship had heard his painful howls during the day-long bowel movement that followed. *splortch* "NEXT!" The next person moved up. When Adam saw that it was Tiny, he nodded towards the cabinet next to him to indicate that he'd stocked it with some extra supplies. " 's not natural, eating as much as you do and not getting any rounder." *splortch* "NEXT!" Carey, Kipling and Davey all moved up at once, standing next to each other. He knew they did it just to break up the line, and managed to bite back a chuckle today. "What, you guys are sharing one spoon now? As you wish." He splortched food into Kipling's bowl and was about to call next, when their incredulous looks made him chuckle after all. With a little more enthusiasm than strictly necessary, he splatched food into Carey and Davey's bowls as well, before calling out for the next person.

Yarr! (that loosely translates to "count me in", even if google translate doesn't know it) Adam Peters is a "very" man. Very round. Very gruff (most of the time). Very good cook. And secretly: very kind, though not always in the mood for it. When he was a kid, one of Adam's uncles arranged an apprenticeship for him with the cook of a merchant ship. He discovered that he didn't dislike the ocean, and that he absolutely loved the sights, sounds and smells of the different ports around the world. When he got older, he discovered that he also liked certain inhabitants of all of those ports. With at least two women in every port eagerly looking forward to his next visit (and the included meal!) and tons of new and exotic ingredients to discover everywhere he's never bored, no matter how long the ship is in port. He got assigned to the Fat Slug at the same time as John York and the two get along well enough, in spite of their culinary differences.

The moment he saw his own body falling to the ground without him in it was the moment when Graham felt his mind clear for the first time in... he didn't exactly remember how long, but it was a long time. It was a little strange how he didn't even feel sorry about his final eviction, but he decided not to dwell on it, instead setting out for a float around town while the villagers were still busy cooling their anger on his now useless ex-body. He had just barely gotten used to this new way of moving around when he saw Tennison and Abercrombe. They were talking to each other and pointing, and Graham decided to join them. "... over there; he's not taking part in the lynching, and he's looking rather... hairy, don't you think?" Graham looked at where Tennison was pointing and saw Lord Bartholomew M. Persius the Third enter the tavern. The man was indeed looking a lot hairier than usual. He immediately realised what that meant and muttered, "I told them. But does anybody coffee-pot old Graham? Nooosir, the cupcakes are flying with the pigs, that's what!" The confused looks of both Tennison and Abercrombe told him that the shock was beginning to wear off, and he just sighed and shrugged. At least there were still certainties, even in the afterlife...

Congratulations Team Wolf - it was fun :-) Looks like Graham was more observant than his ramblings implied... even I'm surprised by this