In the night on Terpsy

[Mathew De Guarde]

(OOC: Take two! Everybody on set, get to your places! We'll be shooting in a moment! ^.^;... Ye t' be in the water. NO complaining, ye hear! We don't care if you can't swim...

Err.. aanyways If by any chance the topic reappears again, it will be that one in which to continue! )

The men were slowly leaving, the party mostly over. Several shadows joined together and approached the mid's berth, where the young gentlemen slept peacefully. They were quick about the elder boys, and did not make a sound that could disturb them. Soft footsteps stopped.

++

He thought it was all just a dream. Two pairs of hands hoisted him up and carried him silently out of the berth. He dreamt that a hand had been pressed to his lips, to stifle any sound that with weak struggles, he made. Then he dreamt he was flying for he felt no pressure at all, just the sensation of air, passing his skin.

And then he was stirred from his sleep by something terribly cold and wet, which engulfed his body completely. He couldn't breathe, and choked as water rushed through his mouth and nose, his body kicking out wildly to bring him back to the surface.

At last, he broke it. He was splashing as if he was trying to take flight, coughing and sputtering. Then his body was pulled under the surface again, and the struggle started right over again. He was dazed and confused.

[George Thompson]

Something hit the surface of the water with a loud splash that made Thompson turn from his conversation. A glimpse of white broke the black of the sea, already sliding past.

"MAN OVERBOARD!" he bellowed, pointing to the white blob in the dark water.

[Billy Barrow]

"MAN OVERBOARD!" the cry was passed along the deck. Sitting close to Thompson, Billy leapt up and leaned over the rail to see where he was pointing, peering into the dark.

"There!" he cried, pointing at the same white speck. "Five points abaft - no, broad on the starboard quarter! There! There!" And being one of the few who could see the speck that was fast moving away from them, and being one of the few seamen who could actually swim, he clambered up onto the rail and dove into the sea.

[Mathew De Guarde]

When he managed to catch more of his breath, he felt weaker, his limbs heavy under the soaked coat. It was painful to watch the ship go on and not know whether they've even noticed the fallen man. He couldn't hear the shouts coming from the deck and did not see one of the sailors dive into the water. With his eyes blurred by the salt stinging them, he could barely see anything before him, let alone the alarm that was raised aboard.

Bubbles rose to the surface about him, where he had made foam with his fervent and desperate struggle."Help..!"His voice weak, shaky. Again he was drawn beneath the surface, reaching towards the air, as if he could grasp it, and pull himself up by an invisible thread.

[Guest]

Peter had woken once in the night, and listened to the sounds of the ship, and his sleeping companions. A glance across had shown de Guarde, a pale face in the almost total darkness, and he had thought how sick the boy would feel in the morning - perhaps that would be the time to send him to see Dr Crozier.

It was the sound of the watch below being called that woke him, and the others. In the confusion it was difficult to see who was up first, although it was probably Kinsella, who did everything with energy and speed, dressing by guess and by God in the darkness. Peter was still tucking his shirt in as he climbed the companionway, and found that the men were already in the yards, taking in sail and wearing. A boat was being launched. "What ..." Everyone was busy, carrying out their practised tasks, but there was no panic - his first thought, that they had run aground, or some other danger, seemed unlikely.

Chandos was in the boat, as it was lowered, and he shouted back at the others. "Man overboard. Go and keep a lookout for him!" And Peter could see the men lining the starboard railings, watching.

[Tom Branning]

"Blimey!" Branning stared at the white blot floating swiftly past, feeling a bit useless because he couldn't swim. "Wunner who the unlucky bugger is!"

[Richard Bolitho]

After Crozier had departed, Bolitho had retired to his quarters. He had not been feeling so very tired, but just the same he was worn out from the dinner and its attendant fiasco. So, upon removing his coat and waistcoat, he seated himself in a chair, and found himself simply sitting there staring out at the night sky and the inky waters.

His idyll was broken by a muffled shout from up on deck. It was a cry of "MAN OVERBOARD!"

Immediately, Bolitho leapt to his feet, tugging on his shoes and running out of the cabin. He practically flew up the stairs, emerging on deck and hurrying straight to the rail. Peering down into the water, he thought he could make out the shape of someone, but he had no idea who it was. Raising his head for a moment, Bolitho looked around to see who was near him. The first man to catch his eye was one of the marines, Private Branning.

"Branning! What happened? Who fell in?" Bolitho demanded.

[OOC: I know Branning just said he doesn't know, but Bolitho was in transit, and obviously he didn't hear the above comment. ]

[Tom Branning]

The captain was on deck now. Branning stared at him, wide-eyed. "I dunno, sar! Weren't lookin' aft, 'til Thompson called it out."


OOC - Off to work now. See y'all tomorrow, if not sooner.

[Mathew De Guarde]

The count of midshipmen arriving from below was left with but two missing. Mr. Fletcher, who hurried now to report of the sightings, worried terribly that it had been his own fault a human being has left the deck of their ship and Mr. De Guarde, who could've possibly slept through thick and thin in his state of affairs. A drunken lad might have missed the signal of alarm, could he not?

The flash of white was seen more stark against the contrast of the black sea, the blue coat somewhat obscuring the back of the boy, making him look as one with his surroundings, if he turned t' improper way. The eyes of men, still followed the movement. So easily the white could be lost from sight, and be mistaken for anything else but a man overboard, when another glimpse was taken. It was dark, and the sea did not care of the wishes of men.

He gasped, his mouth filled with the taste of the salt water, the sensation of breathing it in quite unpleasant. Mr. Barrow must've been close by now, but the boy still had no sight of him, nor expectations.

[Richard Bolitho]

"Alright Branning. Thank you," Bolitho said, quickly.

He was not angry at the marine, but he was anxious to know who was in the water and how he had gotten there. Looking over the side again, he saw that a boat had already been lowered and was sailing out towards the splashing shape. At least that meant whoever it was would hopefully be recovered soon.

[Billy Barrow]

The sole splashing shape was in fact Billy, swimming towards the spot where he had last seen the flailing arms. They were below the water now, but he had seen where the man had gone down. He dove, his hands reaching blindly until he caught at a piece of cloth. The drowning lad seized him as well, and it was difficult to bring him up without being pulled down himself. "Bloody hell!" Billy gasped as he reached the surface. "Stop thrashing, mate. AHOY TERPSICHORE. Shut up and stop it, let go!

[Mathew De Guarde]

The boat was approaching the two figures with fair strokes of their paddles. Mr. Chandos observing the familiar large figure of one of the sailors. For a moment he thought it was the man that they were after, before he'd noticed the smaller trashing figure in his hold.

Chandos's voice carried strongly across the waves, as he called to the pair.
The near drowned midshipman had panicked, unawares that the grip that was holding him above the water was of his savour. His eyes were wide, his heart racing wildly against his chest, easily felt through the fabric of his soaked vest and shirt.

He has coughed and he twisted, like a fish outa the water, and tried to take grip, at first, of Barrow. To climb higher above him, so as to get further from the water. His body had showed a small minute explosion of strength, fueled solely by adrenaline. But it was no question that t' moment his injection of energy was gone, the boy would surely loose his bearings, perhaps even completely.

[George Thompson]

The boat had nearly reached the man, and Thompson lowered his arm, still watching the water intently. He hoped whoever it was, was safe and had been reached in time.

The Captain's voice as he addressed Branning, brought him back to his senses and he snapped to attention... though not quite by the book; he was still watching the sea.

[Billy Barrow]

"All right, mate, you're safe, you're safe," Billy gasped, trying to get hold of the young man's arms. "Terpsichore! Terps..." He choked as his call was interrupted to swallow more of the sea. He mentally swore, and when he broke the surface he verbally swore at the young idiot who had fallen or jumped overboard and was now trying to drown him like a lubberly slab-sided Dutch-built sodding beggar.

[Richard Bolitho]

Bolitho heard the cry and realised that it was Billy Barrow's voice calling out to them. He was the man who had fallen overboard? But wait...it seemed he was trying to drag something along with him. He must have jumped in the water to rescue the fallen man. Now that he looked more closely, Bolitho could discern a second, smaller figure thrashing near to Barrow. It looked like one of the midshipmen.

"Dear Lord..." Bolitho whispered, wondering which of the young gentlemen it was and how on Earth he had ended up in the water.

[Billy Barrow]

Thanks to the young lad, Billy was already half drowned before the boat came alongside, and all he could do was gasp and will them into hauling him up and the sorry young fellow he had dived after. Coxswain that he was, his mind registered that Spencer was at the helm. Good man. Spence would see 'em all right.

He could feel that the lad had gone limp now, floating on his back. "Wake up, mate," he whispered hoarsely. "Are ye drowned? Boat's coming. S'coming..."

[Mathew De Guarde]

He was a handful perhaps for a little while longer, but then his strength did , at last, run out and his mind registered the sailor's words. Safe. He took a mouthful of water, when his own grip slipped and turned to choking instead of an attempt to drown the poor man. A source of twice the bliss came in the shape of the boat slowing to the side of the two men, and with the youth's own strength giving out.

His body had slackened till he would have certainly slipped under the surface, if not for the hold of Billy Barrow, and now of the hands reaching for both from the boat. Chandos stared a moment at whom they were rescuing.

The new midshipman? What on earth was he doing in the water at all? Or outside their berth, where all others were sleeping! And rightfully so! He could thank god that this Barrow was here, for he'd certainly been able to keep the boy breathing for long enough.
The young gentleman was unconscious now, and lay in Barrow's arms like a puppet whose strings have been cut. His head lolled to the side in response to Billy's question. He was pulled into the boat and as they carried both of the men finally out safe, they turned back to bear to the ship, which awaited it's charges.

[Billy Barrow]

Billy himself had not yet registered who it was that they pulled from the water, nor did he care in the least. The ship had been moving fast when the lad had gone overboard, and Billy had known they would quickly lose sight of the fellow. He also knew that most of his shipmates could not swim, silly though it was. (He'd learned it himself as a boy, apprentice to a fisherman, and wasn't it as easy as walking? As long as another lad wasn't trying to drown you, of course.) And sure enough, it had taken many moments, many long and agonizing moments for the boats to be launched and for the ship to come about, and it felt like he had been in the water for hours now.

They heaved him into the boat, and he lay at Jim Spencer's feet, coughing. He looked up for a moment with a bleary smile at the stars, and at Jim Spencer's face. "Spence," he said dreamily. And then he closed his eyes. He was tired.

[Mathew De Guarde]

The boy lay silent, his hair a mess, his clothes so much heavier now that water could be wrenched from it, and fill a good few casks. He was still alive. A good thing too, so that Barrow's near meeting with death had not been in vain. That man had risked his life, for it could have been possible that they would have been lost from sight, and with the sea as dark, and the night as young, who knows how far appart they would've drifted. Perhaps never to be found again, with all the efforts given aboard.

The boy's skin had turned paler, and shone a soft frail white, with the moon's light upon it. "What went on?" Chandos inquired, his voice calm and composed, yet carrying authority with it.There would be much time to recollect the events once aboard, so he would not press if the man was too tired to reply.

Their primary objective was, to get the middie aboard and to the doctor as soon as it were possible. And to this the men were ordered, so that the boat picked speed as it swayed across the sullen waves. Jim Spencer doing no less than a marvelous job so far, as did the rest of men.

(OOC: And now I depart to sleep. Don't drop me too much please! and see you around tomorrow!)

[Tom Branning]

Base instinct kicked in as the boat idled close to the side. Branning hurried toward the rail, tossing his hat aside as he went. "Here lads!" He called, leaning as far over the rail as he dared, stretching his arms out to the men in the boat. "Give 'im here!"

[Billy Barrow]

Billy tried to tell them that he could climb the ladder himself, that he didn't need any help, but his tongue wouldn't work and neither would his legs. He let himself be hauled up unceremoniously by that enormous marine Higgins, and he was vaguely aware of other hands reaching out for the young lad who was being handed up ahead of him. In the boat he had registered that the fellow was alive - by gum, he'd better be, after all that fuss - but then he had seemed to lose interest. It was someone else's watch now, someone else's problem, and Billy could close his eyes in the bottom of the boat. His job was done. But now on deck, with someone wrapping a blanket around him and offering a swig of rum, he came to himself again and looked around. "Who--?" he started to ask through his chattering teeth.

[Tom Branning]

Higgins the wild Somersetman had appeared and had gone half over the rail, his shirt seeming very bright in the darkness. He beat Branning to the sopping wet boy being passed up from the boat and swiftly hauled the lad aboard. "Fetch the sawbones!" Higgins snapped, carefully laying the boy out on the deck.

Above him, Branning watched the smaller Marine with something akin to shock. That was Mister De Guarde who'd been hauled back aboard! "Cor!" Branning gasped. "S'the new young gennelman!"

[Mathew De Guarde]

(Apologise for any mistakes in advance! )

"Fletcher.. send my regards to t' doctor. He's to come at t' greatest haste he can master.. Dunnock,inform t' capn'..n' lieutenants.."Chandos hauled himself aboard, straightening his coat with a distinct single tug.
"Aye, aye!" The first young gentleman turned on his heel, pushing past the bodies cluttering the deck. He was followed quicky by Dunnock, who had needed no more explaining in what he was to do.
Many a spectator was present was now just curious to see what they've lost over board, rather than they had any use by being there.

"Make space..!" The two survivours needed some air and it would not do to make a spectacle of them, let alone have either lost because there were too many men crooning over them. To the side of Billy Barrow, lay De Guarde. The midshipman looked rather peaceful, more like he was sleeping than that he's been just hauled, freezing cold, out of the water and over the railing. He lay in the exact manner as he was laid down, his head slightly to the side, with his coat rather unceremoniously sprawled and wrinked beneath him.

"You there!.."It was addressed to the marine Branning. "..Get them t' move back!" Chandos looked to Barrow and the young De Guarde. If not for the swimming skills and courage of the first, they'd have lost a midshipman so soon into the voyage. The boy did not look like he'd known how to swim else why would he be trashing so violently? He felt relief, though it was not yet the moment for it.

A portion of the men were ordered to help get the boat secured so that the crowd diminished at least a a speck of a deal.

[Tom Branning]

Both Branning and Higgins stirred into motion at the midshipman's order, herding the curious onlookers back several paces from the two soaked, sprawling bodies on the deck.

"Back there!" Higgins snarled, pushing a slow-to-move seaman away. Branning had no need to be verbal. His size was enough to convince the men in the crowd to move.

[Edward Leat]

Leat had been asleep in his cot when the alarm had been called, and woken in a half-dazed state he had rolled out of his coat (ejecting Emily with a hiss) and raced up on deck, pausing only to hop into his boots along the way, so his shirt flapped open at the collar, clearly displaying the wide bandage he kept wrapped around his chest. The captain had beaten him up here it seemed, and he threw a hasty salute which may or may not have been acknowledged as he leant over the rail, watching the proceedings.

The boat had just picked up whoever it was the had gone over, and was on its way back; Chandos in command and Spencer at the tiller. As the boat hooked onto the side Branning and Higgins helped haul two figures up the side - one a somewhat drowned Billy Barrow, and the other...

"Cor!" he heard Branning exclaim. "S'the new young gennelman!"

Immediately Leat's expression went black as pitch. De Guarde by the last reports had been sound asleep passed out in his cot. There was no way a young gentleman in his state would have been topside unless he had 'help'.

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