Libertymen Ashore, 23rd May, Oporto

Taylor grinned. "I ain't sayin' a thing," he promised. It had been his quick work that had gotten Shepherd slops that fit. "Aye, a game'd go nice with this."

"Sticks?" Last he remembered that lad was on duty aboard the ship, or should've been. He'd seen him.. or atleast seen a drummer boy up with a drum, before he left. So, here was another sneak, if his memory did not fail him. He grinned and relaxed, for with two in the same boat - literally and figuratively, there was bound to be silence. Taylor's promise helped, and the boy nodded to him with a grin.

"Oy." He scooted his way behind their table. He took a gulp of drink from his mug and watched as the lass collected a handful of mugs, all filled without doubt, and passed them, serving a couple of soldiers from the side.

"Why's your hat lookin' like that?" He asked, glancing at the older marine, noticing small details that looked out of place. And then he looked to Taylor.

The girl returned, leaning low by Thompson's side, so that her bosom was quite close, her breath easy even with all the tiresome serving she needed done. A mug for the marine, and she was already moving around him, to give one to Taylor. Equal manner, and a warm smile. Men meant money from all the drinks they would pay for.

"Cards.. fine by me if yer lot is teachin' n' not cheatin'!"

"So, ain't none of goin' to split on you, Buckles," Thompson said, and began shuffling his cards. He grinned as the girl brought their drinks over, though he shifted a little in his seat as she leaned over to give him his. It was fair mean of a girl to do that to a man... He'd have to find somewhere to get that sorted, when they left here.

"Summat simple, I think," he said. "How 'bout Twenty-Ones?"

"That'll do," Taylor said, wrapping his hands eagerly around his mug.

Sticks eyed the cards with interest. "Twenty-Ones, eh? Better'n tossin' dice with Grattan an' them!"

"Twenty-Ones. If'um yer say so." He drank some more from his mug before he placed it on the table. He didn't even think to ask what tossing dice with Grattan meant.

The girl returned and a mug was dropped right under Sticks's nose, her smile broad. "Anything like?" She asked, perhaps indicating whether they wanted anything more? She giggled and rested one hand on the red coat and the other on Taylor's shoulder. "More ..more this?" She held a finger pointed to the mug.

"'Most anythin's better'n playin' dice with Grattan," Thompson said, and began dealing. "You know the rules, dontcha. Buckles, you gets two cards each. Ace is one or 'leven, jack, queen an' king are ten, the others are their face value. The idea is to get cards that make twenty-one, or as close as you can get, without goin' over. You can't stick under sixteen, an' you get more'n twenty-one, you're bust. Make sense?"

Grinning, Taylor swept up his two cards and stared at them thoughtfully. A nine and a two. Not near good enough.

Sticks cursed quietly at his cards.

"F'course I knew that!" Though he couldn't exactly hide his gratefulness at being told the rules before they were to play. Jumping up and down all thrilled, when he was actually holding the loosing pair of cards would not be lived down for months to come.

"Hmmph." His pair was a 3 and a 7. Barely made a 10. Sticks sounded as if his cards were very low too. He waited, unsure if he was supposed to ask for more or wait in line for others to do so first.

"We playin' fer summat?"

Thompson reached for his cards and paused as de Guarde spoke. "Dunno that we've got summat to play for... An' ain't it a bit late to say that now, anyhow?" the Marine asked.

"Mebbe later, we'll play fer twigs," Taylor said.

Shepherd scowled. "Or mebbe we better not."

"Could play fer who's doin' stuff fer whom." He arched an eyebrow at Taylor. "..wot's wrong if we do?" He asked turning to Shepherd. "Summat wrong with twigs?" Whatever the twigs were in this sense.

"It's gamblin', whatever we end up playin' for. Let's just have a game without playin' for anythin', at least to start, how's that sound?" Thompson said, looking between them.

Sticks shook his head. " 'Twigs' is bits of wood that ain't worth nothin'."

"Aye," Taylor said, agreeing. "Better off jus' playin' anyway. So..." he tapped his cards. "Dealer shows first?"

"Why'd ye ever want ter play for that?" He looked at Sticks. "s' like playin' fer air, that." And took a swig from his mug, deciding to agree on indeed playing for nothing.

He glanced over his cards curiously at Thompson, waiting to see what would've happened next.

Thompson grinned, and flipped over his cards. A six and a king. "Sixteen."

Taylor turned his cards over to show the nine and two. " 'Leven," he said.

"Eight," Sticks announced, flipping his own cards over. A five and a three.

"Ten. " De Guarde unfolded his pair of cards looking anxiously at the rest. "Three n' a seven." He murmured, straining a bit to see if he'd gotten the proper number of one of the two cards.

"So... you'll all be twistin', then?" Thompson said, and dealt everyone another card, face-up.

(I'm getting my rules from here - minus the stuff on betting.)

"Um..yes." De Guarde nodded agreeing and peered at the number that he was dealt. A five. Altogether his hand was worth 15. Still a good six points from the 21.

He gulped his last bit of drink from his mug setting it down. He peered in and watched it with a frown of a man caught out in the desert and thus without any water to save himself from thirst.

Sabela, which was the girl that brought them the drinks, had a handful to bring to the table close by, the men much drunker already than any of the card playing lot were. One of the stockier sort, who might've been called John, Jack or a form of the later, had an arm around the lass's shoulders, laughing merrily in his deep bass. Sabela tapped his head lightly, and pushed a hand with small, yet persistant amount of force smiling pleasantly to the chap. "..get no more , no let go." She spoke playfully before her Portuguese took over. The men blinked blankly at the later and laughed, nudging their friend. "Oh, let'er go now. We're thirsty!" Which they were by far not any longer. John had made a face, had the girl hugged before she was released and given a chance to hand the mugs to each of the men. Her younger assistant Márcia was rubbing her wet hands on her apron, carefully observing what went on. Satisfied that nothing had gone in the direction the rowdy visitors might sometimes attempt, she filled out another of the orders.

"Miss." He would nearly have missed her, swooshing by with such gait and quickness. Mathew caught Sabela's wrist and near earned himself a smack for it. She turned around and finding a harmless young Tar at the end of her arm she tilted her head questionably.

"'nother like one, please." The boy lifted the empty mug. She gazed over him at the table and the cards that were played. She smiled and moved closer to pick up the mug, so close so that the boy's face came no else but just having seen a lass so up close. His cheeks burnt bright red as he found himself gazing above and at the bodice a good few moments too long. Sabela chuckled and ruffed the boy's hair disappearing again in a flutter of her long dress.

Thompson grinned, hiding the expression in his mug. Maybe... maybe if the girl was so intent on showing her charms to everyone as she served them... maybe she'd be agreeable enough to another sort of transaction, later.

He put the mug down and ran the back of his hand over his mouth. "You all right, lad?" he asked, noticing de Guarde's expression of discomfort.

Taylor shook his head slowly as he tallied up the numbers of his cards. It was nine, two, and seven. Eighteen.

"Eight an' six..." Sticks muttered to himself, blind to anything but the equation he was trying to puzzle through.

"Fourteen," Taylor told him. Then he grinned, having seen the barmaid pass close to De Guarde. "That's his first real 'tention from a servin' girl, I thinks."

De Guarde patted his hair, trying to sort the strands, freed by the ruffle, back in their place. His cards suddenly looked so completely interesting that he could not tear his gaze from them. He shuffled a bit in his seat, grumbling something and when he moved his gaze from them, it was at the cards belonging to Thompson, that were given some attention.

"Is not that at all!" He exclaimed defensively. He looked up at Taylor and scowled. "isn't that at all!" He repeated it, as if saying it twice would make it so much more true. His cheeks were still hot, and he grumbled muttering a soft. "I twist.. " Before adding." .. why wouldn't I be, Thomps'n?"

"Hush you lot." There was something happening at the door. It was too dark and there were just too many people that he could see exactly what went on, but his first guess was that they were the provosts searching for those men who had caused havoc at another tavern. Or atleast, they were searching for someone. Some of the drunkards lifted their heavy heads from the tables and peered blearily at the new arrivals. Their coats were clean and well cared for as if they've all just come with a new ship and hadn't yet tasted first battle.

"Provosts.." The man whispered. "I think." He added as the men at the door tried to push further into the room.

There was some sort of ruckus at the door behind them. Thompson turned his head to see what was going on.

Ah, bother. Provosts. Well, hopefully, they'd managed to get here and looking settled down enough that the Provosts would decide there was nobody here who could have caused any problems anywhere else, and would bugger off sharpish.

"Who won that round?" he asked, picking up his tankard and taking a decent slug of its contents.

"Dunno." De Guarde had in the meanwhile managed to drink half of his mug again, and was smiling a good deal more brightly. He looked at his cards and wondered if they added up to a win. Probably not, though he'd forgotten what others have claimed to have. He tapped his fingers against the table, then reached for his mug again and drank from it.

" Why's the provosts here?" He murmured gazing at the crowd, which was luckily rather well behaved. Two of the provosts had tried to move in further, but were hindered by the people, who didn't exactly mean to stand in the way, but did. He looked at his mug with a frown. It was nearly empty. "Thompson, can yer catch that lass t' next time she's comin' around... I'd like a refill, that I would."