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A Corsair's Tale

| Author Captain Salgari |
| History Captain's Stories |

I saw it happen! (Friends-Locked) [Mar. 19th, 2007 ♠ 07:16 pm]
Emilio Salgari
[Locus |Isla di Salgari]
[Spirit |zomgwtfbbq]
[Hymn |Offspring, "Bad Habit"]

I saw it happen! I couldn't sleep so I was just staring out of my window and trying to get some reading for class done and then I turned to look and BOOM. It just exploded into a fireball! It was great!

I'm not asking, and I don't want to know: but whoever it was? You are skillful indeed. Good thing I hid my things yesterday afternoon...

... I can't believe someone exploded Dean Alfric's car. Righteous retribution indeed.
Link4 rogueswalk the plank

Normalcy is a façade. [Mar. 16th, 2007 ♠ 11:32 pm]
Emilio Salgari
[Locus |MacArthur Hall, Eupheme, Icaria]
[Spirit |contentcontent]
[Hymn |Blindspot, "Misfit"]

As some of you may know via my own words in person, I've been looking for work. I am quite elated to say that after five interviews and three call backs (not all from the same place), I've finally landed a job.

Bill, you were good luck, it seems: the restaurant took me. Maybe it was the chance to have access to my nona's recipes, I don't know, but from now on I will be a sous-chef at Benito's. It's a small but very fancy restaurant down Paris Street, past downtown. But it's not too far, honest.

Anyway, that's about it as far as news goes. I should go to the minimart; I have things to buy for future endeavors.
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Email to Lucy Montgomery. [Mar. 16th, 2007 ♠ 10:56 pm]
Emilio Salgari
[Locus |MacArthur Hall, Eupheme, Icaria]
[Spirit |lonelylonely]
[Hymn |Gatsby's American Dream, "Theatre"]

To: lmontgomery@euphemewebmail.net
From: esalgari@euphemewebmail.net
Subject: Us.

Principessa,

I am sorry I didn't respond to your initial email as to your whereabouts. I'm glad that you told me, because I was slightly worried when you didn't show up for class. Yes, despite the way we parted that night, I was concerned anyway.

I do not know what to say, for the most part. Only that at this moment my tongue is loose and, as I cannot speak to you (more from self-apprehension and lack of funds than want) it has transmitted to my typing.

I miss you. You are my princess. I still am hurt by your actions; they felt like a knife to the back and while I cannot understand them, I am willing to forgive them. I'm not all words and actions, Lucy; I am a person of thoughts and emotions and some times those emotions rage beyond my control.

But it was you that said we should try. I was willing to wait; to bide my time and play the game. You wanted to be with me, and in no way should you think that I did not want the same, but you voiced it, you braved it... it makes the sting harsher, some how.

I love you, Lucy; I wasn't lying when I said so. But you are far away, and I cannot touch your face or feel your voice in my ear; and that cuts me deeply. I am willing to forgive and forget, as they say.

But you need to come back, if that is what you want.

I love you,

Emilio Salgari.
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Ebb and Flow. [Mar. 7th, 2007 ♠ 12:11 am]
Emilio Salgari
I think I took a wrong turn somewhere. Every captain gets it wrong at least once, but this is ridiculous. I am starting to realize that maybe I lost something more important than I once thought when I left; something crucial, a part of me that I can't get back no matter how I try because of how I lost it, or perhaps because of where I lost it. Maybe it is because I don't know exactly what it is I lost that I can't find a way to get it back.

Lucy left. I don't know what to think about that. I told her I needed some time, and she gave it to me with distance. I miss her, but I wonder if this isn't for the best. A lot has happened since I came back, and at the same time, very little has occurred. It feels as though I'm constantly sailing upstream, always advancing and never getting anywhere. It's entirely possible I am simply sailing sideways; though I have the nagging notion that perhaps my ship is on the wrong route entirely.

During the course of this past week, I've had my eyes opened to many levels. I have noticed things, seen things, and felt things that I had no previously sensed. I had so much anger; this vengeance just boiled inside me, my blood red vapors crawling in my veins. But that's gone now, to a degree. I'm still angry, though more than angry I am hurt. And yet I feel as though I have no right to be; and it's not because she didn't do something wrong: she did. I think it's because so did I, and it may not even have been to her.

Did I go too fast, and if so what is too fast, what is too slow; too much, too little, and how do I find a spot between that grants me immunity to doubt and indecision? You think a pirate's life teaches you all those things and more; you think after a year at sea, traveling and learning life's lessons via harsh and cruel methods, you come back wiser in all ways possible.

You don't. I have lost something. I have lost something valuable and I don't know what it is, and there is no X to mark the spot where I buried it; the winds and tide have washed away the marker, and I'm digging holes where I'm not sure I should be. But I keep finding things. I find things inside me and I toss or keep; it's a dissection of my soul and it hurts so very much.

I see them every day and we don't talk. I have spent weeks saying not a word and thinking they were better off. I think that for once I have presumed far too much. It stings, like a lash across my back, that I could have been so wrong and risked so much; and I wonder what the price I have to pay is. I wonder if there's enough left of me to pay it.

But through all this I know there are some things that I can't not fight for; some things that I took for granted. A platform doesn't stay stable unless you hold it up once in a while and tighten its hinges.

Don't get me wrong, I hope she comes back. I love her; she's my princess whether she fit the role or not, and at this point I don't think I could say no. But it's up to her now. She can read this; she'll know. But someone told me I can't have romance without a life outside it; and I think she's right. I think I've been ignorant.

I think it's time I stopped dwelling.
Link5 rogueswalk the plank

Correspondance from Across the Sea. [Jan. 26th, 2007 ♠ 10:29 pm]
Emilio Salgari
[Locus |Icaria, Massachusetts, USA]
[Spirit |nostalgicnostalgic]
[Hymn |Rancid, "La Bamba"]

This letter is in Italian, carefully written with intentionally beautiful calligraphy and a feather-tip pen.



Dearest Nona, I am sorry I have not written in some time...Collapse )

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Happy New Years everyone! [Dec. 31st, 2006 ♠ 01:51 pm]
Emilio Salgari
[Spirit |celebratory!]
[Hymn |Molotov, "Mi Amigo El Puma," (Sandro Cover)]

Hey ho, comrades and mateys, this is your (formerly gone, now returned) Captain speaking!

Some of you may not know me, others may; but either way, I want to wish everyone a Happy New Year.

To those I don't know, I wish for you happiness and light-hearts; there is a time and place for grief and sorrow, of course, but never forget that what gets bad, gets worse unless you do something to stem the tide. Make sure your friends, those closest to you, remember that you're there; do this by remembering they are there, as well. Don't forget them and they won't forget you. Trust me. I know.

Moving on to personal salutations:

Shout Outs.Collapse )

To all of you, I wish a very Happy New Years; and those that know me know that when I say that my loyalties are forever intrinsically united to you. I have never known people like you, and I never will again.

Happy New Years, Eupheme, may the next hold adventures for everyone.

P.S.: Fingers says, "Whaddup, dawgs."

Link11 rogueswalk the plank

The more things change... [Dec. 25th, 2006 ♠ 05:39 pm]
Emilio Salgari
[Spirit |home]
[Hymn |AC/DC, "Back in Black"]

Merry Christmas, everyone.

P.S.: I'm back. :D
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Mysteriously Persistant. [Nov. 27th, 2006 ♠ 10:22 pm]
Emilio Salgari
((The following texts are both in Italian, IC-wise.))

Yet another text is scrawled in one of Dot's journals.Collapse )

- - - - -

A few hours later, this appears below the text above. It is hard to read; scrawled hastily and without much strength.Collapse )
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From a far and distant land. [Nov. 10th, 2006 ♠ 03:37 pm]
Emilio Salgari
One of Dot's notebooks has been written in. The handwriting is smooth and calligraphic; and it's in Italian.Collapse )
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A letter to a lass. [Nov. 8th, 2006 ♠ 03:32 pm]
Emilio Salgari
Slipped beneath a door at Delaney, an envelope. All it says is: Lucy.Collapse )
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