And yet, I now find myself with four days left before the day when it’s meant to go online, and not one of this multiplicity has delivered!
I find myself in this moment of dark desperation in a position of asking any woman among my readership who is in possession of a microphone and who has the capacity of producing noises with her vocal cords to aid me in this grand and noble endeavour.
For those who missed it, I re-produce the description of the character below the cut. What I need, at the moment, is about ten lines of dialogue. If you can aid me in this, you will earn not only my profound gratitude, but a lump sum of fifteen Reader Points; a currency which I am just now instituting, and which I’m sure will be of some significance or import at some point down the road.
On the far side of the room, Captain Guinee was no more concerned by Blackhawk’s presence for her own reasons; she was – rather obscenely, I thought – seated atop Ivan’s lap, as she so often was, teasing his great, hideous beard with one hand while holding one of her grotesque French “cigarettes” in the other, and quite occupied with her vile, ape-like paramour. The current captain of the Regal Swine, she was a woman whose name I at first had a great deal of difficulty pronouncing. It wasn't until I came to realize that Gwenhwyvac Guinee, like so many Welsh names, was meant to be pronounced as one would a deep-throated moan of otherwise-unutterable anguish that I was so much as able to address her by name. That realization not only made communication with her a great deal easier, but so too did it make understanding of her character.
She had entered into my service some five years prior, when The Swine had come under attack by pirates and the previous captain killed. Though the pirates were soon enough subdued and in large part dispatched, there remained the sticky matter of providing my vessel a new captain. I decided that the best course of action, given the circumstances, was to replace the captain with one of the surviving pirates. The crew were initially quite unhappy with this decision, pointing out that I was in essence not only giving her what she had wanted, I was indeed rewarding her for her part in having murdered so many of their crewmates. This was true, naturally, and indeed it was a part of my plan. It seemed to me that the crew could come together around that shared sense of anger and tension, and that this would make them a more efficient group. Likewise did I feel that playing upon the old nautical superstitious dread regarding women at sea and indeed their moral outrage at needing to obey the orders of a woman might serve as sufficient incentive for them to work harder. The various mutinies which I had to put down in the coming months put paid to that idea, but I would be hanged from a length of piano wire before I would admit it publicly, and as such, I remained, to all appearances, her most vocal supporter, even if privately I prayed each and every night that she be devoured by a mighty kraken, even if it meant the sinking of the Swine itself in order to erase the stain of my tragic miscalculation from this Earth.
As to the woman herself, she was only middlingly-effective as a captain, and her various efforts to make off with my ship over the years were in and of themselves frustrating to me on a professional level. This having been said, I had to admit a certain grudging admiration for her ruthlessness with her underlings and the degree to which she had managed not to be murdered in her sleep by them in spite of - or perhaps because of - the grip of inhuman terror she held the crew in. Though one might, in the ordinary course of events, expect desertions to run rather on the high side aboard the Swine, this was not, after a brief, initial spate of disloyalty on the part of the crew, the case. The cause for this was doubtless a complex one, but of the various elements which contributed to it, the abrupt disappearance of any man who did desert, and Captain Guinee's tendency to ostentatiously wear a bloodied article of their clothing as one might a trophy of war in the weeks and months afterwards had to place highly.