Off-watch with the Marines

That's as may be, emily thought with a slight huff as she wriggled, trying to get comfortable in the boy's arms. The finger stroking her head went some way to calm her, but she flicked her tail a couple of times to display her annoyance.

He let her get comfortable and stroked her soothingly. "'M real sorry, miss," he said, noticing her flicking her tail. "You won't go and tell Mister Leat, will, you?"

So you should be! Though it was not exactly as if she could go and tell her lieutenant - or she could, but he would not understand and just pet her.

She did, however, tilt her head in a way that did indicate the boy might be forgiven if he scratched behind her ears and under her chin.

He grinned and scritched behind her ears. "Reckon you like that, don't you, Miss?" he said. He was feeling tired from hauling things around, and there was just about room next to Bakewell for him to sit down, which he did with a sigh, stretching his legs out under the table, careful to avoid kicking Thompson.

"Don't kick us, Ox lad," Bakewell grumbled pleasantly. "Here, how ee do, cat?" He held up a beefy hand to stroke the cat but pulled it back quickly before she could sniff it. "Oi! Watch it. Sommat wrong wi' dat cat. Always lookin' like she gonna bite me or scratch. Don't trust 'em, cats. Now Missus Bakewell, she likes a cat." He regarded the cat through narrowed eyes. "Women."

"Sorry," Oxley replied. "Ain't nothin' wrong with Miss Emily. You just got to let her get used to you. Give a finger to smell - she won't bite ye."

Bakewell laughed doubtfully. "No she won't, not if I don't give her a finger to bite! No thank you, I'm keepin' me fingers attached to me hands."

"Cats don't bite. Not like dogs do. She just needs to get used to you, see. An' I never known anyone like Miss Emily for likin' to be stroked an' all that." He grinned. "Don't think she could bite your finger off anyways - her mouth ain't so big an' strong as all that."

Still Bakewell shook his head, resolute. "I ain't trustin' no animals with me hands, not me. Hey! Did ee see them horses down below? Ohhhh, they'd bite your arm off as soon as look at it, they would. Nasty brutes. And they smell.

"Horses is different. Look, if you just giver he back of your hand, like, she'll only sniff it. Likes folks makin' a fuss of her, she does, and won't say no to it. Not our Miss Emily." He kept stroking her, apologetic for scooping her up unawares the way he had.

"Nope. Nope, cats ain't for me."

He shrugged. "A'right, then. Dare say she don't mind much. She gets enough of a fuss fr'm the rest of us, it won't matter to her if you don't." Though how anyone could not like cats was beyond him. She wouldn't harm a fly, though the rats might think differently.

Branning shook his head. It didn't surprise him that Bakewell professed a dislike for cats. "Miss Emily's the best cat I ever knowed," he said wisely, shifting his position on the sea-chest so he could reach out to scratch the cat's ears.

Oxley shifted position a little to let the big Marine fuss the cat without stretching too much. "Ain't that the truth, mate," he said, grinning, stroking her soft fur gently.

Thompson grinned at the expression on Bakewell's face as Branning leaned over to scratch Emily's ears.

"Y'know, mate, you'm a lot bigger'n her. If anythin', she ought to be more a-feared of you than you is of her."

Not that it worked that way, of course, but it was amusing to see an old Marine like Bakewell trying to keep as far away from Miss Emily, a lovely, friendly cat, as he could.

"Aye, maybe, but I don't go about scratchin' an' clawin' at folk," Bakewell grumbled.

Branning chuckled. "Mebbe she does all that, but she don't mean it cruel-like, like we might."

"Only time she scratched me is when I put me hand down in the dark, an' startled her awake. I thought it was a rat at first, 'cause it was furry. Got the shock of me life when she scratched me. Though I reckon I gave her a fright, an' all." He grinned. "Didn't see her for nigh on a week, after that."

"Must've scairt her out o' one of her lives, then," Oxley grinned, stroking her head. "Reckon the yowl must've scairt you out o' your skin an' all, nearly."

Thompson nodded. "It did, that."

"Hoi, lads," Ware broke in, stirring from where he had been napping nearby. "Did I hear the ol' corporal stompin' around jus' now?"

"Yup. Just come fr'm an ear bashin' with the new Lieutenant - Mister Cartwright." Oxley added the name despite the fact that all the Marines were perfectly well aware of their new officer's identity.

"Oh." Ware looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged and scratched himself. "Prolly deserved it anyhow. Must be all right, Mister Cartwright."


OOC - Dare I add that Ware is a Kent-man too?

Oxley shrugged. It didn't bother him at all, so long as Johnson didn't decide to take it out on him afterwards. "Seems all right," he said doubtfully. He hadn't really seen that much of the new officer, anyway.

(Seems half Terpsy's Marines are from Kent - and the other half are from Hampshire. Fun times! )

Ware only half-heard Oxley, preoccupied as he was with studying a hangnail on his thumb.

"Well, anythin's better than what's his name. That last one."

From his place perched on the sea-chest, Branning grunted and rolled his eyes. "Mister Brandeson, y'means. He does got a name, Berty."


OOC - Almost! Higgins is from Somerset, Everett from Birmingham, and Cartwright and Branning from London, but the Shepherds and Ware are Kentish. And Johnson is a Hampshireman. (Remind me some time to post up the full muster roll I've got stowed away...)

Oxley grinned. He was surprised anyone remembered they'd even had an officer before Mister Cartwright came aboard. He'd spent all his time three sheets to the wind - more - and could barely stay upright on the odd occasion he wasn't in his hammock.

(OOC - Thompson's from Kent, Quinn and Oxley both decided to be from Hampshire. Don't forget: if you're born east of the Medway - the Chatham side - you're a Man of Kent, but west of the Medway you're a Kentish Man. Only works for men, though - all women are Fair Maids of Kent. Also, don't forget to post the full muster roll...!)