Coffee
Grain
Sugar
Tea
Arms
Cotton
Wool
Furs
Ivory
Jewelry
Silk
Spice
Liquor
Tobacco (?)

~ ~ ~ ~

Middle East:
Spices... Uh

America:
Furs, Cotton, erm

Birth Name:
Unknown (Born as a Miss Liberty Vane)

Aliases:
• Shanty: Unknown origin. For many it is the only name they know her as.
• Whitebeard: A nickname that plays upon other famous pirates, referring to her rugged and almost masculine appearance.
• The Ghost Captain: Used by superstitious sailors and fishermen, deeming her unnaturally pale, strangely translucent pelt as paranormal. Originally given when she was spotted one night alone at the helm from afar, rumours of a ghost ship spread around the port the next day.


Gender:
Female (more or less)

Age:
Mature Adult • Six Years

Seniority:
Four Years • Officer of Twenty Eight Months

Scars:
Several wicked slashes mar Shanty's once admirable face. Slashes from swords, reminders of battles from long ago. One in particular goes from  the top of her forehead, along her brow to the corner of her left eye, to her cheek bone and ending somewhere along her jaw, giving her a slightly lopsided appearance. The other was not quite as deep a wound, however it cut through part of her lip, which can mangle some of her words beyond meaning. A mangled ear with several holes and tears. What's also quite noticeable to the wide-eye cabinboy is that she is missing half of her tail, carried off in a tragic incident involving chain-shot.

Build:
Most of Shanty's mass is her thick, shaggy fur. Only when soaking wet you can see the somewhat less awe-inspiring frame beneath, riddled with half-healed scars and strong muscle. In the day-to-day life of a pirate captain, she doesn't bother much with cleaning and grooming what her barber would affectionately refer to as her "rat's nest." At times it can be stained with blood and leftover gore, tangled and ruffled to Hell and back. If she plans on entertaining or going to shore she will wash up as much as she dare, however it's usually up to her barber to make her look presentable.

Garb:
Shanty is equipped as a modest pirate captain, a plain leather tricorn complete with pheasant and ostrich feathers shelter her photophobic eyes. She also carries a simple gold-gilded calvary sabre of good steel tucked into a sash of red silk as a sign of her rank. A lone gold earring pierces her left ear, a telltale sign of her career. The wrist of her front left is usually covered by a bracer or bit of sailcloth for mysterious reasons.

Soundtrack:
Gypsy And His Lady
Hills of Hell
Bottom Of The Sea
Onboard A Man O' War
Awoke T'Hear The Cry
Pleasant Days Gone By
Haul For Better Weather
Captain On Deck
Goddamn Them All!
Early In The Morning
Before The Storm
The Voyage Is Done
Sailing Homeward
Lonely Night On Shore
Setting Sail for The Inevitable

Shanty is very rarely seen during the light of day. There's rumours spread by superstitious sailors that she's a supernatural creature and that sunlight harms her, which is partially correct. Her eyes are ultra sensitive to light and the pale skin on her nose burns easily. She prefers to move about during the wee hours of the morning and from dusk til dawn. She doesn't cower in her cabin during action should it happen during the sun's zenith, however. She uses her hat or a kerchief to shade her eyes as best she can, but her enemy still has an advantage over her.

I was not born the monster I am.

Shanty was born to a relatively wealthy merchant class family and was their only child for many years. Although, some would say that the couple never had any children. With her heavenly white pelt and devilishly coloured eyes unlike either of her makers, she was hidden from the world, her parents wary of the harsh rumours and gossip of scandal.

Even so, she was raised in the respectable way and didn't want for nothing at all. At least, that fatefully morn when she was sent out to the local fishmongers.

Despite being promised to the heir of a grand estate who was willing to overlook her flaws, she naively fell for a sailor despite all of her mother's warnings. Both of them were young and full of the purest form of love, often meeting in secret at the gypsy's camp outside of town.

But then the sailor had to go away on a long voyage. But before he left, he gave her his heart and half of his mother's ring. Seasons passed and the young lass's heart grew heavy, convinced that he had been lost at sea.

Meanwhile, her parents were plotting her marriage to the prestigious heir, and without any sort of closure or proof except a piece of golden twine the young she-wolf had not choice but to go ahead with their plans.

She could only watch as her whole life changed around her. She and her dowry went to live with her new spouse on his family's nearby estate. But still, every noon over two long years she would go to the wharf and look out longingly to sea.

One evening a young officer approached her and questioned what a lady was doing out so late alone. In a moment of weakness, she confided in this stranger that she was mourning her love long lost. The officer challenged her affection toward this lowly deckhand, perhaps long gone. Surely she could find someone more worthy of her attention? Appalled, she turned to face this officer to voice her disgust, only to recognise her childhood love, his warm smile and the same fondness in his dark eyes. He revealed a familiar crescent of gold that hung around his neck, otherwise hidden in his fur. It was him.

And their love was still true.

But it was folly. She was married now. For several nights they met under the moon, like they had once done, before she gained the courage to tell him of her plight. Although heartbroken, he understood.

A six weeks later he returned to sea.

But the damage had been done. Her husband has grown suspicious of her frequent outings and pressed her and the servants into questioning. In defence of the poor maids and tired of living in secrecy, she confessed.

The lord demanded the identity of the sailor so he could find his and duel him for his honour, but she would not speak out of loyalty.

Disgraced and perhaps in disbelief, the lord shunned his wife and servants, refusing to leave his study. She was not permitted to leave the grounds, having become the very thing her parents had been afraid of. Even so, rumours still lingered as to why the lord and lady no longer visited town.

The days were grim from then on.

Several months passed and nothing changed. At least, until she caught word from one of the servants that a charming new Captain had come to town.

She knew it had to be him.

Finally, she grew tired of her life in gilded chains. She and one of her chambermaids, a feisty young servant girl who had taken a shine to the mistress and with nothing to her name, left in the dead of the night, never to return.

Two hooded figured entered the dusty pub where the dashing Captain was said to have been hiring.

The Captain asked for their positions, not looking up from his list of names. The rugged young wolf replied in their gruffest voice.
He would be the carpenter's mate. The Captain looked up and caught a glimpse of red from under the hood and his eyes widened, only to be silenced by a very purposeful cough.

So they were bound for the East Indies and for several years did they serve on a vessel of the East India Company in disguise with everyone none the wiser except the trio.

It was a battle somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean where their lives would be shaken once more. It was a gruesome battle with a pirate vessel that left both crews dissipated.

Upon the deck lie the dark-eyed sailor, battered and beaten, and by his side was the bonny sailor lass who had loved him.

With time the wound had scarred over, but she was still serving upon a merchant vessel. A different one. A galleon. Her voice had grown so hoarse and her appearance so rugged that no one batted an eye when she had signed on as a midshipmate. It was on this ship that she met the rapscallion Davies. Although she didn't much like him at first his charisma soon charmed the entire crew when he told stories of adventure and glory from back in his days as a cabinboy aboard an infamous pirate.

It wasn't surprisingly that he was the one nominated Captain after sowing the seeds of a mutiny, however it did indeed startle some of the senior sailors when he chose a certain midshipmate as his Lieutenant.

It turned out that Davies had been a small-time pirate who had recently been marooned by his crew and left to die if it hadn't been for a fisherboat that had found him and brought him to shore. He had since sworn that he would captain his own ship and bring them to justice.

[somehow he leaves/betrays her]

• Was pressed into service?
• Lord Admiral orders Darcy to engage in a suicide mission pretty much; breaks her loyalty

[vague version doesn't mention any sort of love (instead refers to them as "comrades"), her previous name or wealth. Probably does mention she was once married though.]


Inspiration:
Dark Eyed Sailor
Black Jack Davy
Spancil Hill
The Story of Anne Bonny
The Story of Mary Read

Spancil Hill: Dreams of what might've been if she didn't go down this path ("the old ones were gone, the young ones turning grey"), comes to the grave of her first love ("Johnny, I love you still") but wakes up on the ship's deck ("but I woke in California, many miles from Spancil Hill").



"Yes, I was married once." "... He was not the man I loved."


She has a tattoo curled up her wrist of an anchor and compass points, a scroll curled around it with the words "Darcy, The Pilgrim, '94." It is revealed when Shanty gets a horrible slash and has to get it treated by a doctor. Upon being pressed, Shanty says it's the name of the first ship she sailed on and her Captain. With the anchor, it is to ground her and remind her of where she came from, the compass to keep her from becoming lost. However, it is learnt that The Pilgrim did not sink in '94. After speculation, it is revealed to have been the name of the man she had loved, the ship they had served on, and the year he died.

Birth Name:
Currently unknown.

Titles:
Captain, Admiral.

Gender:
Female.

Age:
Matured Adult • Thirty Years

Seniority:
Ten years • Officer of a Hundred and Twenty Four Months

Birthplace:
London Town.

Nationality:
English, partially Celtic.

Allegiance:
None.


:PERSONALITY:
Decisive • Dignified • Dutiful • Firm • Guarded • Principled • Resourceful • Jovial • Unpredictable • Unstable

Shanty is usually seen as an intimidating and unapproachable, perhaps even indifferent captain. She doesn't give anything anything away and shows little emotion to anyone. Her thoughts and actions are impossible to decipher, which is just the way she likes it. She keeps her cards close, her enemies closer.

She is of the firm belief that action says more than words. At times there is a swashbuckling flair to her that the younger members of her crew idolise and the older criticise. While she revels in the horrified awe in the eyes of her opponents after she perfectly executes a dangerous manoeuvre, she is by no means a rash or foolhardy captain. After all, she is responsible for more lives than just her own. She's a decisive and cautious leader, she won't sail into the storm if the risk is higher than the reward. She tries to balance keeping her crew alive and not looking like a coward, the hardest part of keeping a pirate vessel.

Shanty loves the sea, much simpler than life on land. On good days, she'll jolly and interacts with her crew. Celebrating and entertaining are things she truly enjoys, right next to the thrill of action. She was a popular officer before she became a captain, however the recent tension and the barrier of rank have made things irritatingly complicated. She still dines in the gun room and invites the officer and midshipman of the night watch to her cabin for dinner with utmost enthusiasm, but she seems further away. In full honesty, she envies her officers.

Not much is known about Shanty except that she was once wed, not even her true name is common knowledge. Most are either too afraid or respectful to ask her more of her past, however it's of the general opinion that she's suffered a loss or hardship of some sort, for she doesn't seem the sort to run off to sea for no reason. One might come across her standing on the quarterdeck, looking out to sea with a melancholy longing. Sometimes she seems hesitant to talk to certain wolves, or to even remain in public view. It's an unsolved mystery, for within even just a turn of the glass she will be back to her proud and jolly self.

Shanty is by no means a jealous or vicious wolf, although she can be somewhat spiteful. She still has a heart and morals, although she isn't what most would call virtuous. She has a strong distaste for cowardly backstabbers, plotting mutineers, unsavoury blackguards, liars and authority. She detests the law and all it's petty regulations, the cowards who wrote it and hide in port, ordering their valiant pawns to spill their blood for them. The blood of innocents, of complete strangers. She is not a murderer, she fight honestly (although perhaps not fairly), with her opponent armed and never with their backs turned. She believes the blood on her name is there for a reason.

Her twisted sense of honour is perhaps her fatal flaw, despite it's good intentions. It will be her downfall, and was partially the cause of the mutiny that threatened her life. But even that did not waver her mindset. She is firm and unyielding, as she must be, and never voices her doubts. She is very much flawed, but whatever you say, she is no deserter.

:APPEARANCE:
Build:
Most of Shanty's mass is her thick, shaggy fur. Only when soaking wet you can see the somewhat less awe-inspiring frame beneath, riddled with half-healed scars and strong muscle. In the day-to-day life of a pirate captain, she doesn't bother much with cleaning and grooming what her barber would affectionately refer to as her "rat's nest." At times it can be stained with blood and leftover gore, tangled and ruffled to Hell and back. If she plans on entertaining or going to shore she will wash up as much as she dare, however it's usually up to her barber to make her look presentable.

Features:
The ruggedness of her face and the way in which she swaggers about give Shanty the impression of one who might've once been a rather handsome young sailor. Only upon close inspection could you see that she is in fact a rather feral lady. The unkept fur, permanent scowl and disfiguring scars make it hard to tell her true gender. She might've been pretty long ago, but all that's left now is a filthy pirate.

Garb:
Shanty is equipped as a modest pirate captain, a plain leather tricorn complete with pheasant and ostrich feathers shelter her photophobic eyes. She also carries a simple gold-gilded calvary sabre of good steel tucked into a sash of red silk as a sign of her rank. A lone gold earring pierces her left ear, a telltale sign of her career. The wrist of her front left is usually covered by a bracer or bit of sailcloth for mysterious reasons.

Scars:
Several wicked slashes mar Shanty's once admirable face. Slashes from swords, reminders of battles from long ago. One in particular goes from  the top of her forehead, along her brow to the corner of her left eye, to her cheek bone and ending somewhere along her jaw, giving her a slightly lopsided appearance. The other was not quite as deep a wound, however it cut through part of her lip, which can mangle some of her words beyond meaning. A mangled ear with several holes and tears. What's also quite noticeable to the wide-eye cabinboy is that she is missing half of her tail, carried off in a tragic incident involving chain-shot.


:HISTORY:



:DETAILS:
Aliases:
• Shanty: Only the oldest remaining members of the crew remember how the mysterious and seemingly nameless lass earned her nickname. Most only assume it was because she was the designated shantyman for most of her early days. For many it is the only name they know her by.
• The Ghost Captain: Used by superstitious sailors and fishermen, deeming her unnaturally pale, strangely translucent pelt as paranormal. Originally given when she was spotted one night alone at the helm from afar, rumours of a ghost ship spread around the port the next day.
• Whitebeard: A nickname that plays upon other famous pirates, referring to her rugged and almost masculine appearance. She doesn't like being called this, but she tolerates it.

Albinism:
Shanty is very rarely seen during the light of day. There's rumours spread by superstitious sailors that she's a supernatural creature and that sunlight harms her, which is partially correct. Her eyes are ultra sensitive to light and the pale skin on her nose burns easily. She prefers to move about during the wee hours of the morning and from dusk til dawn. She doesn't cower in her cabin during action should it happen during the sun's zenith, however. She uses her hat or a kerchief to shade her eyes as best she can, but her enemy still has an advantage over her.

Soundtrack:
Gypsy And His Lady
Hills of Hell
Bottom Of The Sea
Onboard A Man O' War
Awoke T'Hear The Cry
Pleasant Days Gone By
Haul For Better Weather
Captain On Deck
Daughters of the Sun
Goddamn Them All!
Early In The Morning
Before The Storm
The Voyage Is Done
Sailing Homeward
Lonely Night On Shore
Setting Sail for The Inevitable

Character Arc:
Due to her role as a busy captain whose main purpose will be to keep us rolling, I don't think Shanty will go through much character development or have many complicated relationships. So, in the spirit of trying new things, she will start off as having an intense history which will be revealed over time. My general goal is that she will be something of a mystery, or perhaps even considered a threat to some. I plan to have a couple of characters be connected with her history (a servant she ran away to sea with and basically knows everything about her, the first pirate captain she met and was betrayed by, and possibly the disgraced admiral that condemned her and her first fleet action to certain death), so message me if you're interested and I'll let you know the relevant parts of the story so we can conspire!