Light duties and men

" Sar'nt." He repeats and nods:"Sar'nt then!" He smiles and hands over another of the muskets, then reaches for the next at the same speed. Blinks surprised at the thanks.

"You..." He hesitates and stammers." are welcome sar'nt. Thank..... thank you for no' takin' advantage of me offer ter help n'.. fer lettin' me." He holds another musket to Quinn, feeling his muscles protest, but willing them into silence. " N'.. thank you for that medicinal grog."

"I would never take advantage of anyone, Mister De Guarde. And I would never treat an offer of help as anything but just that." He took the musket and returned it to the rack. "I just hope you don't get into the habit of takin' rum, or brandy, or anythin' like that, to help you in a situation, because it'll only make things worse in the long run." He smiled at the lad; the words were not meant as a criticism, after all.

He took another and passed it as the one before, placing a hand at the others which had just started to shift, threatening to clutter to the floor in force.

"Sar'nt." He did feel offended that he mentioned the rum as a thing not to take. It helped, it did cause trouble too, got him in quite a few, but it always helped for that short while when he was drunk and he did not feel. Himself having a habit already though the warning came late:" I don't drink in excess." He spoke somewhat sulkily.

"Maybe not, but if you keep on the way you are, you'll end up a drunk midshipman of thirty, instead of a passed lieutenant at nineteen. And you want to pass your examination, don't you?"

He saw what was happening and came to rescue the other muskets before they went, and got damaged.

"Yes I do!...But I doubt t' cap'n will send me." He looked relieved that the muskets did not end up in a pile on the floor. Adjusting a few alongside Quinn he shrugged:"..Bu' if he does. .then certainly.. most certainly I will pass, I know not to drink too much." He did just overly much.

"Shall we?" He held a musket to Quinn, glad that the others remained put.

"If you apply yourself, and see how things work here and do your best, of course he'll send you. If you learn to do your duties as a midshipman as well as you've helped me here, he would be very happy to send you, I should think."

He held out a hand for the musket, accepting the weight, but paused, puzzled. "Why wouldn't he send you, then?"

"He doesn't like me." He took the next and paused. "A middie is at his captain's mercy.. if he decides he will not favour me.. then I may be excellent in all, but I'll remain here still. And he don't like me." He was convinced. "So why I think he wouldn't." He shrugged. "I don't know why he don' like me though." Well he did, but he thought it was a very poor reason.

"He doesn't like you." Quinn repeated the bald statement. "But have you given him any reason to like you? Or for the sailors to like you?" He felt sorry for the lad. "Men can always change their minds, if you give them a good enough reason to. And that includes the captain."

(OOC - dinnertime!)

"He won't change his mind, sar'nt." He paused at the muskets lifting one and studying it. It was too heavy that he could try to fire it and if he had, it would probably have been a greater danger to those around him than to the enemy.

"I thought these were lighter." What he wished to ask next would not sit well. Could he gather the courage and ask the sergeant about the officers? Ask him to explain what he ought to be careful in doing around them, and what were their strengths and their weaknesses. Even if he were a child, the kind of nosyness could be understood wrongly.

(ooc - Enjoy the food! See you!)

"Captain Bolitho will always give a man a second chance, if that man deserves it. And you've been aboard a dogwatch, not long enough for him to have made up his mind for definite one way or the other, anyway."

He smiled at the boy hefting the muskets, one at a time. "Solid walnut, them things are. In a fight, you can put a man down with the butt as easy as with the bayonet."

"If you can lift it up high enough first, that is though, right
sar'nt?" He smiled not willing to argue with Quinn. The scar on the
palm of his hand was briefly seen as the cuff was pulled back when the
boy extended his hand. And just as easily it disappeared back under the
cloth when he held the musket close to his chest.

"Have you seen
action on Terpsy yet?" He asked deciding to postpone that other
question just for now. He lifted the musket then as if testing if he
would be able to swing such a weapon at any one ever. And realised that
the weapon turned no lighter if it came further from the ground.

"True enough. But you'll grow into it, you know. Give it time. And aye, we have had a couple of fights since I joined Terpsy. None this voyage, though. Have you ever seen action?" As he spoke, he took the musket to return it to the rack, and turned back for another one.

"Some... yes." He offered a new musket to the sergeant, more at ease in passing it over and perhaps taking quite a bit less time in handling the weapon. He felt the ship's movement change ever so slightly. The sea was changing which must've ment only one thing. The weather was changing with it.

He looked at the sergeant, and held another musket to him. "We might yet encounter more soon." He was in no doubt that in the direction that they were sailing dangers awaited them, that and prize money.Something that they all could delight in, with a captured and defeated ship on their side.

The roll of the ship again warned that the outside world was not to remain as tame for long.

[OOC: I actually missed this post. Sorry]

Private Thompson wrote:"If summat's so outlandish you can't even try to believe t, they still reckon we will." He indicated his jacket. "There's them sailors, and us Marines, and we don't usually mix, or get together off-duty. We'm supposed to keep them in order, after all, so why would they want us?"

He grinned. "And sure there's mermaids. They like to sit in the sunshine, combin' their long hair. But they'm bad news if you takes a fancy to one of 'em. Haven't seen a sea-serpent, though. Mebbe they was out visitin', that voyage."

Edrington smiled back. "Mermaids are like the Rhine Maidens who lure fishermen to their deaths with their song. But have you actually seen one?" He thought about the role of Marines, and said: "But there seems to be little antagonism on the Terpsichore. Or at least, not between the sailors and the Marines."

(OOC - Easily done. No worries!)

Thompson grinned. "You wouldn't believe me if I said I had, sir, and you'd be right not to. Though I should spin you a wonderful yarn about seein' them down in the Great South Sea, an' you wouldn't be able to tell me wrong."

He paused for a moment, thinking. "Don't like the look of them clouds," he said. "There ain't any bad feelin' between the Marines and the sailors, not really, sir. But when we wear uniform and they don't, you've two separate groups right there. And it's only natural to stay in your own group, with folks who do the same job as you. And there's joshin', sure enough, but there ain't any bad feelin' in it." He shrugged. "I'm sorry, sir, I can't explain it properly."

Quinn automatically adjusted his feet to keep his balance as the ship's motion increased. There was heavy weather on the way, that was for sure. The question was, how many of the spares could they check before the storm hit?

He put the next musket back in the rack. "Well, action's a fine thing. Stops the men gettin' rusty, like the muskets. Seems that we'll be havin' a different sort of action soon, though. Have you ever been in a storm?"

"I have been two years out at sea." He answered and smiled, though a worried look came to his features. The storm was the last that he wished right now. Already he felt walking was hard, but with the deck rocking and thrusting as if it were dancing the most cruelest and wildest a dance or it turned into the most dangerous a horse, was hard to grasp. He was adjusting his stance well to the swell of the ship, though he looked less than pleased with it. Just a few more muskets and then the last three, and they would be done and could head for the spare ones. Unless of course they were called on deck.


"..I hope it shall pass us." He murmured uneasily. He had heard stories of ships lost at sea and knew of one or two that never returned. It wasn't that he thought Terpsy's fate would be sealed that way, yet there was always a chance. He would do his duty of course. Pain or no pain. These were the times when nothing but the ship's survival mattered, and that of her crew with it.

"Two years? So what made you choose the Navy then?" He reached for another musket, slipping back into its place in the rack. The way the swell was increasing, he thought it was probably best not to start checking any more or they'd never get them put away before the storm hit.

"I think, once we've got these away, we should lock up. We don't want muskets all over the deck should the storm hit us in the middle of checking them, after all."

"I.. didn't choose." He nodded with the last three in tow." Might be best that we don't. Could have some damaged like. N' we wouldn't want that now. 'specially with ter enemy able and willing."

He held to one of the muskets and rested it close to his chest. "My parents were convinced it was the way to go.." He added after a moment. "..I just went." And then he added in haste, near rehearsed as it seemed: "Of course I would have chosen it myself.. if I had been asked. ..'s no finer thing than t' service to our King and country.."

Edrington had noticed the clouds, which were beginning now to be more than a streak on the horizon. The sea too was rising, a long swell crossing their way. "Perhaps even talking of mermaids brings bad luck," he murmured. "Or it is just the Bay behaving in its normal way."

"I don't think so, sir," the Marine answered, hastily touching his musket barrel anyway, just in case. "You get all sorts in the Bay anyway." The quality of the light had changed too, making everything look hard and slightly off-colour.

"I hope you don't get seasick, sir, only this looks to be a bad'un." Or at least, it had the possibility of being a bad one.

"I have only been so once, since I grew up - and that was when the weather was so bad that they confined the army below decks, where I shared a - a berth, with several other officers, all of whom were indeed sea-sick. For a couple of days at least. Provided they let me come up on deck, or at least in the fresh air, I think i will not succumb."

The officer of the watch had also noticed the change in the weather and hands were beginning to take some steps to help weather it.

"I assume you don't - but do you enjoy storms?"

"Depends, sir. Some storms, yes. Worst one I was ever in was roundin' the Horn. That was horrible. Seas runnin' high - waves as high as the mainmast. An' we lost the mizzenmast, and there was a hand went overboard with it, an' we lot him too. But the Captain - the mast had been damaged earlier, in action, and we was chasin' the ship that had done it, so we had no time to land and get a replacement, or the Captain says we didn't. He... he knew we was goin' to lose it, though I don't reckon he knew we was goin' to lose a man with it."

He sighed, and came back to the present. "Biscay storms can be bad too, like, though not like that was, sir."

"But ships are lost here, too. Once lives are at risk, or the ship, bad weather is no longer an interesting experience, with a touch of excitement." The swell already made the boat rock and lurch in an unpredictable fashion, and Edrington had taken a firmer hold on the rail. "I have no desire to be required to pump day and night while we limp into Lisbon."

He hesitated and then said: "Do you think the Captain that took you round the Horn counted one man lost a small price to pay for the chance to catch up with the other ship? Officers do have to make that judgment - you can't fight a war without casualties."

"Captain Aubrey, that was, sir, in Surprise." He considered the question. "I... Well, he weren't so happy about it, of course. But he saved the rest of us, and we did get a chance to catch up to the other ship, and took her."

The swell was increasing noticeably and Thompson could see the lift and pitch of the deck, even as he shifted one foot to give him a wider, more stable stance, allowing his knees to do the work of keeping him vertical.

"What happened was that the mast went, but all the cordage was still holding it to the ship." He indicated the mass of rigging each side of the mizzen mast. "I think one side had given way when the thing went, but the rest... the mast was holding us back, making her drag. And with seas that high, there wasn't good. And the sailor - he'd been flung clear, but he was swimming for the wreckage and darn near made it when the Captain said to cut it free." He looked at Edrington. "He made the last cut his own self, sir, and saved us doing it. He knew what it meant, like."

He was silent a moment, remembering. Then, looking up, he said, "I'm glad I ain't an officer, havin' to do things like, sir. If you'll forgive me for sayin' so."