ALEXANDRA WILKES-BRADLEY

[ALEXANDRA WILKES-BRADLEY]

ALEXANDRA WILKES-BRADLEY



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[/b]: Alexandra.
SURNAME: Wilkes-Bradley.
ALIAS: Alex.
TITLE: Miss.

AGE:
AFFILIATION: Pirate.
BRANDED?: Thankfully, no.
RANK: First mate.
SHIP: Lucky Shrew.

Let me start at the beginning. Though, even then, what I have to say would only take a few minutes of your life. I'm not an interesting person, with some amazing back story. I'm a simple girl, born to a pirate, and raised on a ship. See? Simple. Straightforward and to the point. I'm a twenty-four year old woman, though that doesn't mean much in these times. And even when I'm trying to blend into the background, I most always pop out because of my bright red hair and fiery temper. I'm not someone to be pushed around, mind you, and I don't mind giving others a piece of my mind, especially if you're a man.

On to other things now.

My father's name was John Ian Wilkes-Bradley the Fourth, long? Maybe, but his name meant many things when he was alive. He was the greatest pirate to sail the seas. Well, he was to me anyways. He was a gentleman, an English gent who'd been unrightfully branded by the Royal Navy as little more then scum. They labeled him a pirate after sordid affairs with a foreign diplomat, and that's what my father became. But he raised me to be a lady. I learned what all proper Englishwomen should know, I just learned it all on a ship. Reading, writing, the correct way to stand, and sit, how to make pleasantries with others, but it was all rather boring. I enjoyed the other side of our life much more. I was skilled in the art of picking pockets, and using my natural born charm to get out of any trouble.

I've got some slick fingers, and I do enjoy using them. But, as my father taught me: It's better to give back, then to keep it all for yourself. So, I always gave back what I never really needed. And I never bought anything that was too expensive, never wore dresses, dreadful things, and I most certainly never acted like a girl. Unless, it was absolutely necessary. I guess, I'm what you would call a tom-boy. Sometimes I wish I had been born a boy, would have made things a lot easier.

My mother died shortly after my birth, she was a real lady, one of those that wore big fancy dresses, and walked with umbrellas, and never spoke out of turn. Sadly, we're almost exact opposites. I have a mind of my own, and I darn well want to use it. And I will admit I've got something of a temper too, but my mother was all sweet, even temper, and proper speech. Yet her death meant that I had to be raised on my father's ship, Lucky Shrew, odd name don't you think? Didn't matter to me, that thing was beautiful, and better then any land dwelling I could ever hope to live in. My favorite place was the crow's nest. Loved to sit up there and watch the sea, and practicing with a sword. Not that my father ever approved of me waving one of those things around.

I miss that ship something awful. It was more then just a home to me, and it held everyone I'd ever known or loved. Ernie was like a grandfather to me, granted he was older then time itself! And there was Milo, he was kind of like an older brother... One I wouldn't have minded kicking off the ship a time or two. But he was bigger then three of me put together! And the twins Milton and John, those two were almost as big as Milo, yet were probably dumber then that brute even put together. And Rihard was closer to my age, but he was still a hulking build of a man. The only one I was really close to was Hank. Heh, I had quite the crush on him growing up. He was only a year or so ahead of me, and stronger, faster, smarter. He was the only one I didn't mind being better then me.

That is until he marooned me. Sometimes I really do hate men.

But that's what you're here for right? My story?

Well that was the beginning, and the end isn't much better. My father was killed during one of his usual raids. Dragged off and hung by that blasted Royal Navy. I'll have you know, and you best remember this, my father never killed a single person in his entire life, and he was a better captain then any man could ever hope to be. But his death was a short one, ended with the sting of rope and smell of manure. I know, I was there.

Then I was quickly whisked off to my father's ship, holed up in my cabin for three days, then left stranded on some God forsaken island in the middle of the Caribbean with no more then a pence to my name. Stupid men. Couldn't handle having a woman in charge so they threw her over board. If only my father was alive... Ah well. Times change, men... Never do. And one day I'll get my boat back. Even if it means having to come close to the East India Trading Company at some point.

Not that I want to, mind you, but I may need help taking over a ship with a bunch of brutish men aboard. Now, to find a way out of Port Royal.

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TWENTY-ONE࿂ EVAN RACHEL WOOD ࿂ FIVE YEARS
ASHE

RP SAMPLE. <3

I don't need one! <3

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