June 20th, Afternoon Watch: A Venereal Predicament

Not sure if seeing the doctor was better then just bleeding all over the ship, Guus slowly walked towards the doctor who had started a lively conversation with the man behind him.

Well, lively. He spoke lively, the man behind him just looked pale.
Very pale.

Guus took his hand of his forehead and looked intrigued at his bloody hands, but also trying to follow the conversation.
Which was hard, for the doctor spoke a quick English, but he managed to understand a few words. Child...He knew what that meant. Labour...Wasn't that the same as work? Were they discussing him?
He looked questioning at the other man.

"Oh Dieu, he is ever so bloody!" He gawked openly for a good fat second before advancing toward the wash basin to dampen a cloth to try and clean him up a bit.

"Poor thing. Was there a fight?" Dabbing at his wound carefully, and touching Dr. Gallien on the shoulder. For some reason.

Guus wasn't sure what to do or say so he just grinned.

The youngman, who actually didn't look much older then him, asked him something in a very caring voice.
Offcourse, he didn't understand it, but it was rather nice getting a bit of attention after such a long time, so Guus just smiled.

Kock was caught off guard when the doctor asked him if he had any children – well, of course he did and so he said, “Why, yes, sir, I have two of them.”

Unsure of where Gallien was going with this inquiry, he began wondering why he had asked in the first place. Surely, Gallien had a wife and perhaps child of his own? Or perhaps the doctor had several children, eight little Galliens running about in dresses and boots, and if not then millions?

And then he just had to mention a poet, not his favourite poet but a poet none the less. Kock did love his poetry. He preferred Wordsworth and Coleridge – talented fellows; Kock knew that he would never ever reach their gifted ability.

Again he was caught off guard, he could not imagine either his sweet little daughter or devilish son working in factories and sweating to the point that they had no water in them, “I… I…it sounds awful… I think it’s the most dreadful thing ever, it’s sad.”

Kock wanted to ask Gallien what other poets he liked, that was if he liked poetry at all, but decided not to in the end.

Russell did not move from his position and examined the child as René washed his wound. There was surprisingly a lot of blood to which Russell wondered if it would require stitching or what the extent of damage it might have done to the boy.

“Two of them,” Russell remarked slightly surprised at the fact that Kock had, in fact, reproduced in addition to the imagery that appeared uninvited into his head. “It is dreadful,” he agreed, “and upon reading them I felt conflicted. Do the children on our ship go through similar circumstances and what should I think about it?” As he made his statement, he settled a firm hand on Guus’s shoulder as if to emphasise what he had just said and to make a show of the fact that he supposedly cared; even though, truthfully it was unclear considering how his usual condescending tone when addressing those younger than him.

“So what are your children’s names? Are they sons or daughters or perhaps both?”

René took a generous look at the doctor in utter dubiousness. Yes. Such a bleeding heart indeed.

"So how did you get to be in this way?" He'd cleaned off most of the blood, and wheeled the boy around to sit him in a chair. The bloody ones were easier. Especially when the blood was...coming from anywhere other than...well.

The lad with the baby blue eyes said something to him.
He spoke in a funny and quick way...almost...a more sweeter kind of English. Not that Guus understood it.

"Ik...van de mast...gevallen...een val..." he said, convinced that the lad would understand just as much as he did from him. Wasn't the English word something similair to the Dutch one? "A fall?"

Kock nodded when Doctor Gallien spoke, he had never thought about the boys on the ship as labour – perhaps the boys in the lesser ranks; however, they were working because they wanted to, were they not? They were being fed and paid… or so Kock thought and hoped. The middle-aged man did not think that the higher ranked boys had many problems and besides, for some of them it was a ticket to fame and fortune.

Kock didn’t say anything about the boys on the ship but he hoped that there was nothing out of the ordinary going on or that they were not being worked to death, without food or money or anything rewarding.

The next question got caught the man off guard, “A boy and a girl – Hermione and Alfred. And you, sir, do you have any children of your own?”

Kock did not want to imagine anything, pushing any sort of intrusive thought of Gallien reproducing OUT of his head.

"A fall?" He looked rather shocked. THen again, it could be precarious around here with all the ladders and ropes. The poor little thing. He gave him a look of unadulterated sympathy, perhaps a bit more in penance for the callousness he'd given to that other boy. He wasn't a rat all the time...

"Perhaps we shall lie down this one, docteur?" He eyed Gallien, who seemed rather more occupied with talking to Monsieur Kock...

“No, I don’t,” Russell answered shortly, “I never really thought about marriage, children, and those sorts of things myself.” It was partially a lie, though Russell would never dare to fully disclose his decisions. When René interrupted their discussion, he nodded to the boys and began walking towards a vacant cot before gesturing towards it, “this one will do.” The little Dutch boy could likely walk there himself or with René’s assistance. It was clear from Russell’s behaviour that he was more interested in his discussion with Kock and that he did not deem the boy’s injury to be anything life-threatening or long-lasting.

“Your children have charming names, though. Hermione… are you familiar with Classical mythology or are you perhaps interested in Shakespeare?” Looking at Kock, Russell was certain the man was educated, at least to some degree.