Occupation: First Mate on the Revenge
History/Family Information: Life as the only child of the Grancourt name was never easy for Sybil. Born a woman instead of a man, she provided no comfort for a widow saddled with all of the gambling debts of a philandering husband. Not to mention that their once proud name had been soiled by the fact that her father had been killed in a duel over the honor of some local duke’s daughter. Her family in ruins, but still a member of the realm at least by name, Sybil’s mother began to devise a plan for how to revitalize their social standing.
In other words, Sybil Annalise Grancourt was to be put up for public auction. Of course, no one ever spoke of it in such terms, but Sybil knew a meat market when she saw one. At the tender age of seventeen she was paraded throughout society, presented to every single bachelor with money and a title one the face of the kingdom. It was horrible. All of those men leering at her, kissing her hands, not even pretending that they would listen to a single word she said. For years Sybil resisted, refusing every single offer of marriage that came her way or finding some way to debase herself so that the men broke their engagements. It worked quite well, if Sybil could say as much herself.
That is, until Lord Renfry Moran appeared. Sybil had newly turned twenty years old, and at the small party her mother threw in order to attract the few remaining suitors that hadn’t already heard stories of the Grancourt shrew in angel’s garb, the two were introduced. He was at least sixty years old, apparently extremely wealthy after finding a stretch of gold that had yet to be tapped, and a widower to boot. Mother was all in a twitter as she heard him loudly complaining about how much disrepair his estate had fallen into these past few years without a feminine touch to spruce it all up. That he’d give half of his riches just to have it all set to rights again.
The papers were signed nearly the next day. So Sybil quickly set to her usual tricks, temper tantrums, disagreements, staged ‘trysts’ with stable boys whom she had grown up with, anything to get him to leave. Yet the old man only ever laughed at her, shrugging to himself and saying that Moran could use a young spirit among its halls… “And between its sheets” he’d whispered in her ear one night before kissing her hand and taking his leave.
That night Sybil packed a bag and ran as far away from home as she could. Perhaps she only had a few gold coins to her name, but surely it would be enough to buy her passage somewhere far, far away. She had always enjoyed examining her father’s old atlases and reading stories of adventure upon the high seas. It had sounded so glamorous. Surely a life on the sea or across it would be better than a life trapped within a golden cage.
Yet as Sybil wandered the docks, her reticule held tight to her chest, none seemed to be willing to take her. Each captain turned her down, shuffling their feet and looking away as she held out her few coins, saying that she’d go anywhere. It didn't matter. “It’s bad luck, miss… Fearful luck to have wimmens aboard.” Exhausted as the night dragged on, Sybil nestled herself among some barrels on a flat, pulling her bonnet tight over her eyes and deciding she’d try again in the morning to find some passage far away.
Instead, the girl was rudely awakened by a bucket of cold, brackish water poured over her head by a man dressed all in black with eyes that sparkled in the bright morning sun. “Well, well, what do we have here? A pretty little stowaway, hmm? We’re not much for stowaways aboard the Revenge now are we, boys?”
“Please… Please.” She had sputtered, fumbling for her bag of coins. “I merely wish passage. Anywhere. It doesn't matter.”
The man she would soon come to know as Godfrey LeFey had laughed in her face, saying that he knew who she was and that if he had any sense, he’d take her measly bag of coins then send her packing back home for the rest.
“No! Please! I beg of you… I’ll do anything to keep from going back there… Anything.”
And thus Sybil Grancourt, once a Countess of the highest degree, found herself aboard the pirate ship Revenge as a cabin boy. Every night Godfrey would tell her he’d surely send her home in the morning, but every day he’d give her yet another responsibility. On and on it went for a few years until finally he named her First Mate…
And there was no more talk of sending her home.
Personality: Though Godfrey may like to think of himself as the most charismatic person aboard the Revenge, Sybil has given the man quite a run for his money. Perhaps it had taken her a few months to get her sea legs and become used to life aboard a pirate ship, but she thrived there--far more so than she ever did playing her part as Countess on the Courtly stage. Here she can laugh loudly, drink deeply and swear more vilely than ever before, though she still retains that courtly edge. She has played the game of intrigue from the moment she was born, and it takes a great master to fool Sybil Grancourt.
But even a steely heart and a keen eye cannot always keep a woman safe when she is sailing the high seas. Sybil learned early on that she was the only one who would be able to take care of her, and so has learned to defend herself in any way possible. She has a code of allowing a man three chances to remember to hold his tongue… After that, she gets to cut it out of his mouth and keep it for herself. Sybil learned to fight and to be good at it as quickly as possible, to learn how to intimidate a man who has had a bit too much rum in his system, how to use their momentum against them.
Sybil may be a woman, but she is a force to be reckoned with. Easily set to anger, ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and will always, always win. Her emotions are as reckless as the sea, and just as changeable. But what else could she do? A girl has to survive.
Goals/Hopes for the Future: To be honest, Sybil is quite content with her life as it is. Life out at sea is exciting, and every day is an adventure. She is free here, never tied down by anything or anyone. As long as she wishes to stay, she stays. Though perhaps she wishes for a more concrete reason to feel attached to the ship—a reason just the shape and size of a certain Captain—she knows that her life here is better than any she could have had if she had stayed on land.
Romantic Life: Love had never really been a part of the picture for Sybil. She had been born and raised to be sold to the highest bidder. Yes she had longed for it, as every little girl did when she read her fairy tales, but Sybil had never thought she’d actually find it. Nor did she think it would be found somewhere as unlikely as a pirate ship she accidentally stowed away upon.
Godfrey LeFey was her weakness, it was true. Sybil hated herself for loving him, truly, for what was the point in loving a pirate? Especially one as uncaring and full of himself as Godfrey. Yes, indeed, they were attracted to each other—as their somewhat frequent tumbles in bed would suggest—but there was never to be anything more between them. Or at least nothing they could speak of.
This was partially for business reasons, of course. Already some of the crew were murmuring that Sybil had slept her way to the top of the ship, her eyes too full with the glimmer of the First Mate share of the spoils. It was also partially for her own safety. Once before Sybil had nearly killed a man after he insisted that if the Captain got to have a go at the ship whore, they might as well all get their turns.
But, if Sybil were to be honest with herself, she kept her distance from Godfrey as well because she was afraid. No man in her life had ever truly loved her, and as far as she knew, love was something someone had made up for her story books. After all, her father had never loved her mother as his string of affairs came to show. And the men who were all to marry her were only looking for titles and land that they believed was worth something. Who was to say that Godfrey would be any different? So instead she teases and baits and harasses her Captain, taking the nights that she can and locking her heart away into the most buried of treasure chests.
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