Post by Hippolyta on Dec 11, 2009 11:45:37 GMT -5
(08:03:48 )
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... Leans against the wall and looks out the barred window. Luckily the window overlooks the harbor. fine mess you have yourself in this time Jack me boy My fathers words echo in my ears. My eyes track a fly buzzing close by, I chuckle soflty as it zips out thru the bars. Well if it where only that easy.
(08:08:58 )
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... I look at the bars embedded in the stone and mortar. Gripping one and giving it a pull, hmm a little movement but not much. the sounds of keys jingling and the heavy foot falls of the jailer lets me know to move against the wall, even before he shouts for everyone to back away from the doors. I almost gag at the sight of the slop bucket that he spoons from onto plates for our midday meal. Boiled rat perhaps, the cook has no imagination. I watch as he is followed by two armed guards. Shaking my head as the carry bayoneted muskets in such an enclosed area. Dark eyes shift as I watch some of the other helpless wretches gobble up their meal, using their hands and licking the dirty plates with their tongues.
(08:15:55 )
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... I give a brief shudder. I watch as they stop at my cell, opening the door and watching as he spoons the nasty concoction onto the plate. I shake my head as he drops it on the floor watching it splatter some. The two guards laugh, even from where I stand I can smell their foul breath. The door locks closed and I move, picking up the plate and sitting it on the bed. Flipping the waste bucket over to make a stool I take a seat. I pull the spoon from out of my vest and clean it on the sleeve of my uniform jacket. Glad that a breeze is blowing up from the harbor, bringing a fresh and exotic scent. I concentrate on that as I properly eat the slop. I hear the odorus language of the other inmates as the make fun of me while I eat. I refuse to be baited by them. I am an Officer of the Kings Navy after all, and I will disprove these horrible charges brought against me, if it is the last thing I do.
(08:25:08 )
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... I finish the meal, finding a rag I clean the spoon off and replace it in the pocket of my jacket. Standing I look around and decide I have had enough of the hospitality offered by the jail. I go back to the window and inspect the bars. The jail is old, built by the Spanish long ago. The mortar is weak with the constant dampness of the tropics. Luckily I was afforded a bed with some sheets, unlike the other cells where the men slept on the floor with rags. With my eyes I start measuring things and formulating a plan. I move back to my bed and inpect it. Nothing fancy but it is made of some good wood. My eyes land on the wood waste bucket and a smile curls my lips.
(08:30:41 )
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... I will have to wait till dark. I go back to the window and look, it is a 20 to 30 foot drop to the ground below. I can use the sheets as a rope to assist in removing the bars and then as a rope to climb down. Knowing it will not reach all the way but will get me close enough so I won't injure myself when I drop. I rub my chin. I will eventually need a ship but that is still in the future. right now the bars are the window are my first order of business, followed by escape and not getting caught.
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... Leans against the wall and looks out the barred window. Luckily the window overlooks the harbor. fine mess you have yourself in this time Jack me boy My fathers words echo in my ears. My eyes track a fly buzzing close by, I chuckle soflty as it zips out thru the bars. Well if it where only that easy.
(08:08:58 )
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... I look at the bars embedded in the stone and mortar. Gripping one and giving it a pull, hmm a little movement but not much. the sounds of keys jingling and the heavy foot falls of the jailer lets me know to move against the wall, even before he shouts for everyone to back away from the doors. I almost gag at the sight of the slop bucket that he spoons from onto plates for our midday meal. Boiled rat perhaps, the cook has no imagination. I watch as he is followed by two armed guards. Shaking my head as the carry bayoneted muskets in such an enclosed area. Dark eyes shift as I watch some of the other helpless wretches gobble up their meal, using their hands and licking the dirty plates with their tongues.
(08:15:55 )
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... I give a brief shudder. I watch as they stop at my cell, opening the door and watching as he spoons the nasty concoction onto the plate. I shake my head as he drops it on the floor watching it splatter some. The two guards laugh, even from where I stand I can smell their foul breath. The door locks closed and I move, picking up the plate and sitting it on the bed. Flipping the waste bucket over to make a stool I take a seat. I pull the spoon from out of my vest and clean it on the sleeve of my uniform jacket. Glad that a breeze is blowing up from the harbor, bringing a fresh and exotic scent. I concentrate on that as I properly eat the slop. I hear the odorus language of the other inmates as the make fun of me while I eat. I refuse to be baited by them. I am an Officer of the Kings Navy after all, and I will disprove these horrible charges brought against me, if it is the last thing I do.
(08:25:08 )
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... I finish the meal, finding a rag I clean the spoon off and replace it in the pocket of my jacket. Standing I look around and decide I have had enough of the hospitality offered by the jail. I go back to the window and inspect the bars. The jail is old, built by the Spanish long ago. The mortar is weak with the constant dampness of the tropics. Luckily I was afforded a bed with some sheets, unlike the other cells where the men slept on the floor with rags. With my eyes I start measuring things and formulating a plan. I move back to my bed and inpect it. Nothing fancy but it is made of some good wood. My eyes land on the wood waste bucket and a smile curls my lips.
(08:30:41 )
Black Jack
[PIC]
Crispin Storme
"Black Jack"
== Port Royal ==
- in/at the jail-
: says to ALL:.... I will have to wait till dark. I go back to the window and look, it is a 20 to 30 foot drop to the ground below. I can use the sheets as a rope to assist in removing the bars and then as a rope to climb down. Knowing it will not reach all the way but will get me close enough so I won't injure myself when I drop. I rub my chin. I will eventually need a ship but that is still in the future. right now the bars are the window are my first order of business, followed by escape and not getting caught.