Sorela Dalca

Florence Pugh. 27. Cook aboard The Jewel of Antigone.

[sorela-dalca]

WHO: @ivan-da-costa​ WHERE: The Jewel of Antigone WHEN: Second Watch, daybreak

Sorela stepped out onto the decks of The Antigone in the early morning fog with a bucket full of food scraps. She set the bucket down by the edge of the ship and picked up the rope tied to the mid-mast and tied it around her waist. One of the ship cats made herself known so Sorela fished out a few shrimp tails and tossed them her way before taking the rest of the bucket and heaving the contents into the ocean.

She placed the bucket back down and began to untie the rope when she saw Ivan come closer. 

“Didn’t see you at dinner,” she commented as she realized she’d somehow missed his face in the galley the night before. “Everything alright? You want something now?”

[sorela-dalca]

WHO: Open WHERE: The Restaurant at the Inn WHEN: Evening

Sorela sighed and dropped her head down against the table where she sat waiting. “I think they forgot where the damn oven is,” she muttered. She’d drank two mugs of beer already and was not truly interested in getting a third. She didn’t want to fill up on beer and become a miserable soul instead of having a meal and staying decent the way she’d planned.

She glanced over and noticed the occupant of the table next to her was still waiting on their order as well. “Do you frequent this place?” she asked unenthusiastically. “Is this extensive wait for food common here?”

[sorela-dalca]

thehonourablepirate·:

Jacob raised his brow as the young woman began to complain. He suddenly regretted inserting himself into the situation. The woman obviously didn’t want help despite needing it unless she wanted the conversation to end violently. It almost certainly would, given the pirate she was arguing with was known for being hot-headed and bloody thirsty. “Y'know, most would say thank you. Do you have any idea who you were getting into a confrontation with? You may be able to look after yourself, Miss, but trust me, he is not a man you want to be fighting with.” He warned her, shaking his head as he gestured to the barkeep for another two drinks. 

The male scoffed, looking the woman up and down; she was a feisty little thing. “If I had stood by and let you throw your drink at him, the whole tavern would be fighting right now, and you probably wouldn’t be in any condition to throwing drinks at anyone again.” He told her with an amused look on his face. “Now, you can sit down and have a quiet drink with me, or you can piss off – I honestly couldn’t care much either way." 

Sorela stood her ground and kept the furrowed brow she’d been sporting trained on Jacob.  “He was treating the barmaid like his property even well after she’d tried to get away from him on more than one occasion.” She made a motion toward the woman in question. “I didn’t see you jumping to save her. Was I to sit idly by the same as everyone else?”

She looked at Jacob holding his drink and sitting there looking regretful that he’d even started this conversation, but she pulled out the chair and decided to sit down anyway.

“Are there truly things like that you just let pass you by?” Sorela asked. “Don’t they make you have to do something?”

[sorela-dalca]

tw: blood, minor injury Sorela hissed the second she sliced down her finger and dropped the knife to the side as she grabbed the end of her apron and shoved her hand into it in a fist. “You would think one day, I would learn,” she mumbled to herself. With her other hand, she motioned to the pot she had just put on to cook and looked at one of the new younger recruits who had dropped by the kitchen. “As of this moment, you’re the new cook. I’ll be back in a bit. Just keep stirring that pot. Don’t let anything stick or burn.” She walked down the length of the ship with her hand still wrapped in the apron, blood staining the already stained fabric.

When she reached Iseult’s quarters, she knocked against the doctor. “Avery, would you mind stitching up my hand again?” Sorela called through the doorframe. “I did exactly what I did the last two times.”

@iseultavery​

[sorela-dalca]

thehonourablepirate·:

WHO    :    open WHERE    :   the tavern WHEN    :    late afternoon Quiet in his seat, Jacob continued to watch the scene between the two in front of him unfold as he nursed his drink. He’d had a busy day and wanted nothing more than to just enjoy a tankard of ale and his own company but it would seem that the two arguing in front of him had another idea in mind. Looking down at what was left in his tankard, he chucked his neck back chugging what was left, leaving a pleasant burning of alcohol in his throat. Taking a stand as he noticed them getting more aggressive with each other, he let out a sigh and began to walk over. “Enough.” He stated, his voice calm yet with a sharpness to it. Jacob looked at them both straight in the eye as he put an arm between them. “If you’re going to behave like children, then I will be your daddy. Now, you go that way and you come sit with me.” The male instructed with a warning look that told them it would be safer not to argue with him. 

Sorela got up and followed him to his table just so she could stand beside it with her hands on her hips. “You think that because you’re in the same area, you have the right to insert yourself into another’s confrontation? If you didn’t come to solve the issue, you should learn not to get involved, pirate.”

She set her jaw and looked the man over. He didn’t look like anyone Sorela should take on physically, but she rarely backed down from a challenge and didn’t expect this man to either.

Sorela shot a glare toward the other man she had been arguing with just moments before. “You didn’t even let me throw my drink at him before you interrupted. And that would have been amusing for all of us, not to mention deeply satisfying for me.” 

[sorela-dalca]

Sorela Dalca

General Information: Full Name: Sorela Anca Dalca Birthday: 13 June, 1688 (Current Age: 27) Orientation: (regrettably) heterosexual Current Status: Single Nationality: Wallachian (Romanian) Languages: Romanian, English, bits of others Religion: Orthodox

Background: Place of Birth: Braila, Principality of Wallachia (Romania) Hometown: Nassau, New Providence, Bahama Islands Father: Radu Dalca, ambassador (alive) Mother: Adelina Florica, housewife (deceased) Step-mother: Maricela Diana, housewife Siblings: perhaps much younger ones in Braila that she’s never met in person

Physical Traits: Face Claim: Florence Pugh Gender: Female Race: White (Thracian) Eye Color: Hazel Hair Color: Dark Blonde Height: 5’3” (162cm) Weight: 125lbs (57km) Distinguishing Marks: only small scars from cooking and battle

Hobbies & Talents: -cooking -can sing and will be caught singing while cooking -building up others (especially women)

Bio: Born the only daughter to a Wallachian ambassador and his loving wife, Sorela grew up traveling with doting and adoring parents. Her family was loving and her father always insisted on taking his whole family with him as he traveled so they could always be near to one another. At age seven, while traveling home from a trip, her mother was collecting firewood for dinner when she was bitten by a venomous snake and died shortly thereafter. For many years following that, Sorela traveled with her then overprotective father. It was only the two of them; and Radu, because he was educated, taught his daughter everything that he could. It wasn’t until Sorela was in her late teens that he remarried. Sorela never minded Maricela but because she was already so close to adulthood when they met that Sorela considered Maricela more like a friend than a mother.

When she was twenty, she told her father she wanted to stop reading of foreign places and go to see them for herself. She tearfully told him and their homeland goodbye and set out on her way. She’s lived many places now, never staying anywhere for long, but always hoping to find one she loves enough to never leave.

She took the cook position aboard the Jewel of Antigone after befriending Captain Angelina Pritchard somewhere between France and England. She believed in Angelina’s cause and wanted to help the captain avenge her lost lover. Despite Sorela not being much of a fighter, she managed to hold her own and the two women were very close for two years, the best of friends and thickest of thieves, before Angelina’s untimely death. Sorela then returned to Nassau looking for her next step in life, but feeling rather lost and conflicted and suddenly missing her father more than ever before.