Threading Scene Example - PB

THEM:: Gentleman Jack. It wasn't a bad name, was it? Certainly couldn't link anyone to the ragged boy he'd once been. No, it was a fine name, Jack decided. If he must have another name, Gentleman Jack would do. It was a good way to leave his past behind, for who would suspect Gentleman Jack, known for his fine clothes and skills with a sword, to be little Jack Read? Such a street urchin could never have scraped together the money, the ship, that Gentleman Jack had. Yes, his ship was the fastest on the sea, he'd seen to that, and although it was too small to carry much cargo Jack had a good eye for what cargo to keep and what cargo to toss. He'd pulled off just enough successful looting to be noticed, but he was sure that his true infamy would come in time.

Yes, he'd come a far way.

Jack Read had been desperate to join the Navy, but Gentleman Jack had realized there was a far better way to feel the sea air whip past. He owned the sea and himself now, why would he settle for serving beneath some rotund nobleman with no sea-legs? And it was with this thought he propelled himself onto the riggings. He wove his way quickly higher and higher; he'd spent many years as a cabin boy for the honor of his own boat, and now that he was captain he made a point to show he wasn't too good to do a bit of work. A little huff of pleasure and he surveyed his domain - the wide open sea with just a hint of land in the far, far distance.

And another boat, it looked like.

No matter. Just one would do him no harm, and could even be a boon; a new target. He called down below and watched his men scuttle to deck to peer and wonder and set about making ready for whatever it was.

ME: Captain William Hodgins strolled along the deck, his hands behind his back, taking some fresh air. His crew scurried about performing their duties. Good crew, good ship, and he was only the youngest captain in the fleet. He liked to think it hadn't all been about family connections though, which he had in abundance. No, he had worked hard as a boy, proved himself, and his reward was catching the eye of Lord Hodgins, who in turn, took him in as his ward. The title and money he had inherited had bought him into the service and he was all too happy to serve King and country.

The sky was clear and a smudge on the horizon was visible and it wasn't long before the deckhand in the crow's nest shouted the sign of another ship and the word was carried back from the officer of the watch until his first mate murmured the pressing question into his ear. "Ship sighted, sir. Shall I run up the colors?"

William nodded decisively. "Yes, Mr. Bluth. Let's see if she's friend or foe."

THEM:: Foe, and not willing to engage in battle. Not willing to, but it seemed...

Jack let out a curse that would leave a few of the newer sailors' eyes wide when he realized he was nigh trapped against the rocks of the shore were he to try and avoid the ship. He hadn't even thought of that, but there were many rocks beneath the waves, and he couldn't risk a breach in his hull. The other ship was too big for him to truly take, and the colors were undeniable. There was little he could do but run up the fake colors of one of the merchant ships they'd looted and pray the captain was a fool, for his ship was obviously not a merchant ship.

He drifted closer though, despite his sailor's protests. Perhaps they could just slip by, off onto the open sea to escape. They had few other options that did not involve death in battle or on the hangman's noose. He shouted out an order for them to ready themselves though as they got closer and closer to the other ship.

ME: "Does that ship bear any similarity to a merchant ship?" He tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Not a whit, sir." said his first mate.

"That was rhetorical, Mr. Bluth." He let a smile play along his lips. His eyes narrowed decisively. "Signal for them to come about. If these braggarts really are one of our merchant ships, like they claim to be, then they should do so immediately." He ordered, although in his mind he had very little doubt that they were anything but pirates. "If not...then prepare the men to beat to quarters." He was not about to be caught unawares by such a tiny ship and such a cutthroat crew. Besides, he had taken down far bigger ships in far more dire circumstances.

THEM:: What could he do? Go in a bit. How well could they pretend to be a merchant ship?

The signal signaled near unavoidable death, either way. Better to pretend to obey. So he called for them to come about. Perhaps if he spoke with the Captain. Perhaps if he killed the Captain. Perhaps if he...too many options, too little time. And what would the Captain do if he did dock? Find himself at the end of quite a few barrels. Better to deal with the men on board in person rather than the ship, as the naval ship was undoubtedly better prepared to handle a battle.

They obeyed immediately, coming about. Easing closer. Gentleman Jack kept his men in good condition - they could pass for honest folk, if the other Captain didn't look too close. If the other Captain didn't board. Maybe this show off faith would convince him to back off. If not...well, Jack slid into his cabin for a quick bit to grab his pistol and his sword and to search for his fake registration papers.

He couldn't find them, and they'd never been very good anyway. So he'd just have to bluff until a better plan came to him. Right. And hope his crew didn't mutiny and get them all hung.

ME: William watched as the other ship turned obediently toward them. Interesting, he thought. They could be one of their own ships, but even that was a dangerous bargain at best. Many days and nights and sea, long months in fact, could cause a simple freight ship captain to begin thinking about selling their cargo. Perhaps they weren't pirates, but they could still be traitors to the crown. It was unthinkable to him. How could a man sell out his own country? Not all men are made of the same stuff. It's what Lord Hodgins would say. In his years as a naval officer, William had learned that first hand.

"Assemble my boat crew, Mr. Bluth." He ordered. "I want everyone armed to the teeth. We're going to board her." He glanced back at his first mate. "You have command in my absence, stay sharp and keep the cannons ready."

THEM:: Dammit. Why couldn't they have a nice stupid captain? Now they'd have to get boarded. Hope their fake papers were in order. Perhaps ransom the captain. He could kidnap the captain, that was an idea.

In any case, he was dressed to look respectable enough. He could go down and meet whoever came. And so they sat, like sitting ducks, despite his crew's unease. And his crew was uneasy - shifting and tense as they were boarded. It was Jack that went down to greet them, his face immobile, his fake-papers in hand.

ME: The ship looked in order. The papers looked in order. The captain...was a different story. William considered himself to be a good judge of character, but there was something about the man that he couldn't put his finger on. Something of the familiar about him.

His men stood outside the door of the Captain's cabin. William took the offered wine with a curt nod. "Thank you, sir. By the by, what cargo did you say you were carrying again? And how is it that you came to be so damned far from a friendly port of harbor? Really extraordinary that you haven't been taken yet." He played his cards close to the vest. A true merchant man might take offense to him telling him how to steer a ship. A pirate? Well they might take more than just offense.

THEM: More than familiar, and Jack didn't like it. He didn't like the man's face, he decided - or the strange sensation he'd seen him before. The papers he gave to the captain named him as Samuel Johnson, and the wine was offered with a curious brush of fingertips.

"Aren't you awfully young to be in charge of a ship?" His question was rude, but he was stalling until he could find a good lie. The question wasn't unusual - not really. A respectable captain (even an equally young one) could get a little short with someone so obviously young and so curt. He looked out towards the sea, with a smooth shrug and a politer: "We take care of ourselves." His crew was restless. He licked his lower lip and then half-glared at the other.

ME: "I sense your apprehension, sir. And please let me speak frankly..." He took a step closer, meeting his gaze with his own harsh one. "I may be a younger man than most gentlemen in my position, but I assure you that my service to my country is of the most importance." He didn't trust this man and for some reason, wanted nothing more than to be off his vessel. Off the vessel and back to their sailing. They had been on their way home when this ship was seen. Another night's sailing...maybe two. He could be back in port and refreshing the ship with supplies and men and waiting for orders. He had hoped he had paid enough dues and could get a real mission quite soon. William very much wanted to be in the thick of things.

THEM:: He definitely knew that voice. Jack's brow furrowed for a long moment as he tried to place it. He didn't tense at the man moving closer, although he wasn't intimidated - even though he was definitely a few inches shorter. "Textiles." He finally decided on, his eyes flicking up to meet the other man's. He couldn't really afford to let the man into all of his hold, but he couldn't hold himself back from snapping: "Do you need to check every inch of my hold as well?"

And then because he was spiteful and he'd heard of some corruption in the navy - and bribed a few naval officers himself: "Or is it a fine piece of cloth you're after? Lady at home to take care of?" That was downright cold. Jack couldn't stand corruption like that - it seemed like such a petty, stupid thing to do. He managed to look down his nose at the other man and then suddenly...well. He placed him - and his mouth dropped. "Holy God - Will!"

ME: "How dare you address me as someone familiar to you, sir." He sputtered indignantly. "I assure you that I..." He trailed off as he studied the face in front of him. He had known him. It wasn't just something he couldn't place. That nagging sensation in the back of his mind finally bloomed into recognition and he was nearly speechless.

"Jack?" He muttered. "It...you can't be him." He reached out to touch his shoulder, as if assuring himself that the man before him was, indeed, real. "I haven't seen you since...by God, Jack. What's become of you?"

THEM:: He let the other touch him and then gave an easy smile and a shrug. "Changed my name." A lie, as the name on his papers wasn't Jack. A frown slid over his face though. So Will had actually become a naval officer then. How...stuffy of him. He raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'become of me'? I have my own ship." A motion of his hand. "I'm doing well for myself." A thin smile. "As are you, it looks."