learning the hard way (open)

[brooke]

BAD COMPANY, I CAN'T DENY.

[atrb=width,380px][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true] "Come on now boys, you can do better than that," she taunted, letting go of her opponents hand and wiping her own on her shirt as if to get rid of any contaminants that could be there. Brooke was doing her favorite thing today: hanging about the Tirtouga Tavern, betting down money against men who thought they were stronger than her. Oh man were they idiots. Besting them in a simple arm wrestling match was probably one of the most satisfying things Brooke had ever discovered she could do. You'd think that some of these guys actually knew how to throw a bit of weight around, but nope! The morons relied simply on brawn. All you had to do was twist their wrists a little too hard and the muscles up their arms would cramp. An easy win. Cheap - but when did Pirates ever play fair? "It's not hard to beat me you know. Y'all are just stupid." and with that she laughed, a wide, toothy smirk stretched across her face as the man that had just lost threw a couple of silver coins her way. "Anyone else? I'll throw down double the amount I did last time."

BAD COMPANY, TODAY I DIE.

words: 199 || tagged: anyone|| notes: herp derp
(( CODED BY SMIFF OF SB! DO NOT STEAL! ))

[michi]

this looked lonely! :D

    Elliott did not make a habit of visiting dirty, infectious pubs such as Tirtouga Tavern, but there were occasions when boredom struck and he caved to curiosity. Visits to such places weren't always a loss, in part because it was never a bad thing to do a little recon, to get a feel for what the enemy was up to. It was for this reason, hoping to blend in as well as possible, that he had left his uniform at home and opted for something casual – khaki trousers, a white shirt, and a loose-fitting leather jacket. Was that what pirates wore? He wasn't exactly sure, but it was believable enough, he supposed – better than wearing the trench coat of a Royal Guard, decorated with pins of honor and loyalty, right?

    The fact remained that Elliott didn't much fit in with the bar crowd. He had been a street rat once upon a time, but his work ethic had kept him far away from such places. He was not into drinks, contaminated bar food, or potentially diseased women... But gambling? That was a possibility, he supposed, dark eyes watching the arm wrestling matches that took place in a dimly lit corner of the tavern. Judging by the pile of coins laid before the woman (ha, a woman!), the bar was full of a bunch of weaklings... “I'll have a go at it.” Without hesitation, he took the seat across from her and placed his elbows on the table. For the moment, his guard was up for any sort of tricks from the woman, though Elliott hardly knew what to look for.