[Brinniel]

Th' crew was slightly disheartened by th' death 'o their claimed spy. It didn't help that they couldn't completely take her word fer it; while some did, others were more cautious. Thar would be no way to be knowin' th' staggerin' drunk's true alignment so long as her ghost wandered th' ship.

Th' second day was just as intense as th' first, if not more, as th' crewmembers began to turn on each other, one by one. Mira Blythe couldn't take th' insanity. Halfway through th' day, she fell silent 'n as she stared out into th' sea, she wondered if she would be better off in Davy Jones' treasure chest. But she did not jump, as this day th' sea looked cold 'n uninvitin' while th' deck remained warm 'n gleamin'.

Meanwhile, th' other crewmembers were not grog-filled wit' Dancin' Mira's self-removal from th' conflict at hand.
"'Tis not fair," complained Boromir th' Malformed. "She's not even tryin' to help figure out who the culprits be. We'll never get anythin' done if not all hands participate."
"Aye," Puffy Shirt Rikae agreed. "We might as well murder her. 'tis not like she wants to stick around anyway."
'An so it was decided that Mira Blythe would be th' next to be off.

"But how we dispose 'o her?" wondered Cowerin' Gwath.
Th' crew scratched their heads as they attempted to come up wit' a clever execution.
"Ooh ooh, I be knowin'!" cried out Eomer Bonny. "If Dancin' Mira loves to dance so much, why not gift her some proper dancin' shoes?" He held up a pair 'o iron shoes. "Poop Deck Kath 'n me can even provide th' music."

Dancin' Mira's dancin' shoes were fitted 'n prepared as they sat under some steamin' coals. When th' iron began to glow orange, they were ready to be placed on th' striker's feet. Th' musicians began to play; Poop Deck Kath piped a jolly tune while Whinin' Eomer screeched on his violin what th' crew could only assume were notes. Once th' shoes were on her feet, Dancin' Mira immediately hopped up 'n started to dance a jig. Th' crew clapped 'n cheered as she hopped up 'n down shriekin' from th' pain, her feet beginnin' to sizzle. Th' others enjoyed it so much, they didn't notice that Mira Blythe had shifted her jig towards th' edge 'o th' deck. "Ow, ow, ow," Dancin' Mira gritted through her teeth, but she continued to put on a fake smile purely fer entertainment reasons. Her feet nearly seared to th' bone, suddenly th' cold sea did not look so uninvitin'. As she neared th' ship's railin', she grabbed hold 'n threw herself over. Dancin' Mira disappeared wit' a splash followed by a hiss.

"Well, I guess that takes care 'o it," Mac Sparrow shrugged.
"Not quite," answered a voice.
Th' crew turned around to find a extra wet seaweed-covered Mira Blythe standin' behind them.
"Shiver me timbers," gasped Shark Tooth Shasta.
"Ye were just- how did ye get back up here?" gaped Ham-Hands Izzy.
Dancin' Mira shrugged. "I be in Davy Jones' treasure chest, remember? Cursed to walk th' ship among all th' other ghosts hearty thanks to ye lot."
It was yet another reminder to th' crew that death would not necessarily solve all their problems.


The Living:

-Legless Sally Dawkins ~ Carpenter
-Puffy Shirt Rikae ~ Cabin Boy
-Pirate Lommy the Infected ~ Quartermaster
-Gangrenous Inziladun Jones ~ Pilot
-Pirate Boromir the Malformed ~ Gunner
-Stutterin’ Wilwa Scab ~ Cook
-Shark Tooth Shasta ~ First mate
-High-Pitched Annu ~ Surgeon
-Whinin’ Eomer Bonny ~ Musician (Pur-loined Violin)
-Snifflin’ Mac Sparrow ~ Cooper
-Almost-Blind Nerwen ~ Navigator/Sea Artist
-Poop Deck Kath ~ Musician (Pipe)
-Cowerin' Gwath Slasher ~ Powder Monkey
-Pirate Nogrod the Fashionably Late ~ Gunner
-Ham-Hands Izzy ~ Striker
-Short Ruth Mithril ~ Cook
-Stinkin' Eön Bloodbeard ~ Powder Monkey


The Ghosted:

-Black Death Brinn ~ Captain ~ shish kabobed (mod)
-Slippery McCabbie Dagger ~ Boatswain ~ danced the hempen jig
-Lil' Green the Staggering Drunk ~ Powder Monkey ~ drank up all the rum
-Dancin' Mira Blythe ~ Striker ~ danced her way off the deck


Night 3 has begun. Aggressors, protectors, spies, avengers, whatever....do what you need to do.