chivalry is dead

[James Vaughn]

Tag: Rose Fletcher

i have sworn

TO DO VERY FOOLISH THINGS

Vaughn despised being idle. He missed the chase. The pursuit of other ships. The thrill of a storm. And the victory that came with every effort. Instead of it all . . . he was currently stuck in a loud stuffy bar, with idiotic people, and piss pour drink. Which, he had now had 2 pitchers of. He was in the company of another one of his crewmen, as they just watched the crowd, occasionally exchanging meaningless words. For nothing held meaning here in the city.

He was eager to return to the open sea. To put his actual skills to good use yet here . . . his only skill was his high tolerance for alcohol. The door swung open which would have ordinarily not caused Vaughn to pay any attention but it was clear . . . this man was a nobleman. Bloomsbury was not exactly a place that nobility frequented, unless they wished to be out of the eye of the ton. Vaughn just sneered at him, spitting on the floor even if the man did not see him.

The pirate's gaze continued to follow him, as he approached a young woman. James was not so much paying attention to what he was doing to her . . . perhaps he was making flirtatious remarks. Perhaps he was putting his hands on her when his attention was clearly unwanted by the woman. But it was neither of those things that soon prompted Vaughn to his feet. It was the combination of boredom and his contempt for upper classman. He began to walk up to the duo, standing behind the man for a moment as he appeared to be trying to get closer to the woman.

"Here," he began to say, intruding on the scene. "Allow me to help you." His voice sinister for he had no intention of actually helping the man. With that, Vaughn raised his leg and put his foot on the man's ass, aggressively pushing him forward toward the woman with enough force, that the man missed his target all together. Instead, he stumbled to the side, falling over the table next to them and eventually, landing on the floor. Vaughn stood there with a smirk, rather pleased with the outcome as well as prepared for a good fight should that ensue.

[Rose Fletcher]

source tagged James Vaughn words 710 notes oop

London wasn't what she'd envisioned. When she'd first pictured what her life would be after moving to the city, it was far from the reality of the situation. Drinking alone in a crowded bar while she contemplated all of her decisions that had led her to this point.  The city was dirty and crowded, the people rude and self-involved. She missed the quiet community of her hometown, where the people cared for their neighbours as if they were family. It was easy to feel alone in a place where everything moved so fast and no one spared someone like her a second glance.  She beckoned the bartender over and ordered another drink, grimacing after the first sip. They definitely watered their shit down here. It almost wasn't worth paying for, but she was trying to wallow in her own self pity and sure as hell didn't intend to do that sober. Rose didn't hear the door open, too focused on the brown liquid in her glass to pay the comings and goings of other patrons much mind. She barely glanced up when a man stopped beside her, leaning against the bar and calling loudly for the bartender in a way that spoke volumes of his entitlement.  She cast a sideways glance towards him, he was dressed in fine clothes, the sort that made him stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this. That explained a lot about his actions and they way he carried himself. The unrivalled confidence of a nobleman who believed he was Gods gift to humanity. He glanced her way and their eyes locked briefly before she had a chance to look away. That was the only invitation that he needed, and she felt him lean towards her. The closeness was uncomfortable and she felt the urge to move away, but remained in her seat and continued to stare into the depths of her drink. He said something. She wasn't listening. "-hello, are you deaf?"  Lowering her glass to the bar, she sighed. Apparently nobles weren't capable of taking a hint, and she had been so looking forward to spending the evening alone. "Not deaf, just not interested" she said, hoping that the frown on her face would be enough to persuade him to move onto an easier- and more willing target. "At least let me buy you a drink?" "I have one, buy me another if you'd like but then you can leave" she wasn't the type to turn away a free drink, but the company that came with it? That, she was not interested in. She'd been told that she was hard to get along with, that wasn't news to her. It seemed that nobles took rejection harder than the lads back home though, because this apparent gentleman looked as though she'd slapped him in the face. Was he such a stranger to the idea that a woman might have more productive ways to spend her time than with him? Rose wondered if he would stay to pester her further, or leave her alone. But before she could find out, another man approached the bar and abruptly interrupted their conversation. He had a rather unconventional way of helping the man to admit defeat, but his methods still had her reeling from the sudden escalation of events. The noble was sent tumbling to the floor from the mans kick and Rose practically slid from her stool in an attempt to remove herself from the middle of what could potentially be a rather hazardous situation.  "What the bloody hell are you doing?!" she demanded of the stranger who'd initiated the apparently unprovoked attack. Did the two men have history that she was unaware of? Could it not have waited until they were outside to start some kind of brawl? Men, honestly could they never resolve matters with a conversation? It was always about whoever could throw the first punch. She almost thought about helping the man up from where he had fallen, before remembering that she didn't care for his comfort.  "Is that how you solve all your problems, by throwing your weight around?" whatever it was, she wanted no part in it and wished she had been left alone to finish her drink.

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