The Middies' Berth

Thompson shrugged. It wasn't his choice, whether to follow through with the threat. But he knew that Lieutenant Bush never made an idle threat; he was always prepared to carry it through unless given a very good reason to change his mind.

"Ain't any harm in bein' friendly, is there?" he said, and thought of something else. "Did you... did you have many friends on Confidence?" he asked, slowly, trying to think. "Anyone you could talk to about things, share jokes with, that sort of thing?"

Thompson himself had never lacked for friends, being a friendly, willing soul. His closest friends were among his fellow Marines, as was only to be expected, but he was on fair terms with several of the sailors too. They didn't mind much what he had to do when on duty, so long as it didn't affect them too much.

As for them seeing him on friendly terms with a middy... "Just so long as you don't make me choose between you and them, sir, they won't have any problems with me talkin' friendly-like with you. Mister Yates, now, he's good as talkin' to the sailors, and they don't think any less of him f'r doin' it."

"No." It wasn't hard to answer that question. Didn't take much thought, consideration or deliberation. They weren't friends, they lived with each other, worked with each other and hoped to establish themselves higher in the middie's berth, on the unnoficial ladder of rank that Mr. Hollow had made. Which decided who would do what for whom, and who would get the better pieces of their rations. They talked, but rarely without wanting something.

"We were young gentlemen,.. in training to become officers, not a group of friends on an adventure. Of course. You went to one to talk if you needed something.. you'd be daft to go and expect to be a friendly ol' chap.."

He shrugged his shoulders gently and frowned:". ..there was a man that was nice.. met him when we were in action, really met him like... he were bindin' me hand n' then a ball got him. Right across the chest n'.. maybe face. I don't quite remember." It wasn't something pleasant to remember. He had been sprayed with the blood of the deceased and so had been in fair shock. He could even have remembered feeling it pass. The cannon ball. And then see that sickening crunch, and all red. Nightmares of good ol' Mr. Hollow, the captain and his lieutenants and their ways, were replaced by that scene repeating itself for a good while.

"He wasn't nice in terms of Terpsy's like. Wos' a marine.. bu' he was fair." He shrugged at the mention of Yates. The lad wasn't right to talk friendly with the sailors. And that was his opinion , to which he stood firm.

No friends... to be aboard a ship and have no friends at all. Thompson looked at him in shocked surprise, shaking his head in sheer disbelief. "No friends at all?" he said softly. "Oh, you poor boy." He could no longer see De Guarde as a midshipman. Instead he was looking at a young lad who'd never had the chance to learn right, and had no friends to help him through the worst times.

And the one man who'd been at all friendly had died almost as soon as the lad had met him, from the sounds of it.

"It's not good, to have no friends," he said, still trying to take it in. Even in the worst days of training, there had been other lads there he could talk to. He couldn't imagine coping with that alone, and felt a sudden urge to hug the boy close. He couldn't though, not now.

Maybe that was why De Guarde had reacted so strangely earlier, pulling Thompson's arm closer about him so sharply.

"No." He thought that it wasn't something he needed to elaborate. It was something he had learned to be used to. If you opened up, you were used. Simple as day. Those who wanted something were either to use their 'rank' against you or, if they could not, they were sweetest one could be. Pretending. Sailors hadn't been exempt from that. It was what had made the boy so suspicious of Thompson earlier, and what had made him act upon simply using Fletcher to get his drink.

He wanted something, so he would get it. Fletcher was the weak boy, who could not have said no. Naive enough perhaps, even with some experience aboard. He sensed it, and he went to snatch it before it was too late. Of course, Yates came inbetween. Came in the bloody way.

"..We can't have friends..." What he had with Yates had been a form of.. boy to boy, a colegue testing out the grounds? He didn't know to put a name to it, but it wasn't the friendship which would have one saving the life of the other. Not unless he'd get something out of it. He didn't know about Yates and his thoughts on that matter. And it didn't quite matter now. The lad hated him.

He looked up at Thompson with a small, faint smile. "s' not like .."But he didn't know what to say to that.

(Ooc - ok, have to run now, for a couple of hours! See you!!)

"Everyone should have friends," Thompson said. "T'ain't right not to, sir. But to get a friend, you have to be friendly, like. Treat other folks how you'd like them to treat you. Be polite, like. Listen, look... learn things. If someone does something and you don't know how it's done, ask 'em to show you. Offer to help folks who can't do things as well as you can. It don't mean you have to be best mates with the sailors, but you can talk to 'em friendly-like, and learn things from 'em."

It probably wasn't making any sense to the confused young middy, but he needed a friend, and he hadn't started out the best way to make any here. "'N' you can talk to me, as well, you know, sir."

(OOC - I'll probably have gone to work by the time you get back then. See you later!)

Peh. What did the man know. What did he? He didn't need friends now. He was a midshipman, fear was enough when it was on his side, and this is what the young middie had tried to tell himself for so long through the years he was stationed on the Confidence, that he near believed it by now.

Still he gave the young private space to speak, and even listened to his words and what he had to say, without a grimace or without the vacant look on his face. He had given him attention, and that was a fairly good treat, in his opinion.

Listen, look, learn. Him, asking a sailor how something is to be done? Surely not! What would the sailor think then, teaching a midshipman. He would get in over his head, think he was smarter than a young gentleman. Which.. in some ways he must've been, more specilized at least. Still there was little right to give him that feeling! He remembered his seadaddy, newly apointed Chase. If Bush had meant to loose his nerve and send him anywhere, he would not have appointed the sailor to him, now would he. It would be bad enough that he'd have to listen to the man as if he were his pupil. Bad enough that it was THAT sailor that he had to stand together with. The one who he had gotten flogged no less.

And..He did offer to teach Yates, it was only that their agreement had been sealed by drink and went to pieces. The boy poured grog over board! How terrible was that!

"Talk with you, private?" He then asked and slowly nodded. Though he was not quite sure he would believe Thompson much on the topic of friendship, nor on asking to be taught things he did not know in a kindly manner, he had thought it better that he was able to speak with the red coated man. Even as a midshipman and as he was now. No harm done. Perhaps something gained.

"What would you have from talking to me?" He though asked. Not in spite and not in suspicion, but rather to know. Just to know what Thompson expected from this small deal. A bold and direct question it was, but he reckoned beating about the bush would confuse and just take too much time. He smiled, and while they talked he listened to the sounds from above too. He thought the Frenchman was replying, but he wasn't sure. Well, sure as day he would be feeling and hearing if the ship had any balls bouncing of her hull up above the water.

"I don't need anything from you, sir. I just want to... want to show you that maybe there's another way of doin' things than the way your old ship has. Not a better way, but different. Terpsy's way." He shrugged. "I want you to be a Terpsy, like the rest of us are."

Though why it mattered to him, he couldn't say. The boy had looked so lost and lonely earlier, and still seemed mixed up and confused, a little. And Thompson knew no other way of persuading him to the way that Terpsy did things than by befriending him, however tentatively. Though whether, as a Marine Private relating to a midshipman, it would work, Thompson didn't know. There was just something in him that seemed to respond to the loneliness he saw in the middy, even though the middy himself didn't necessarily know it was there.

A Terpsy. He looked to the marine, and the longer he observed him, the more his features were not as judging, not as suspicious nor perhaps as stiff. With a slight nod he decided that the Marine did not lie. Not this time, and that the warm words he had spoken, he meant. He hadn't said ill of his former ship and that eased the boy's mind. He would have retorted otherwise.

A feeling of belonging. Nay, he was a Terpsy's officer lad now! He frowned and shook his head and wished he weren't as tired, because it was the day that nothing made sense and all he knew was that his head was beginning to hurt slightly, that his posteriors were aching a fine deal and that his thoughts were not in the right place at all.

"Yer.. a strange fellow.. private." He spoke, but with little betraying tone to his voice."...Don't fear a midshipman who'd had one flogged, wishin' to tell n' show what's best for him." He had a lifted eyebrow as he glanced at the marine again. " And.. you've got me convinced that we may talk.. once I'm back on duty." And to that he added more firmly." As a midshipman with my full authority back in place."

He hoped that De Guarde would indeed be given another chance to get things right as a middy, but thought that the chances were he would have to get used to talking with the men - being a sailor - a lot quicker than he thought.

He grinned. "I know I'm strange, sir. But it's a nice sort of strange, at least. An' Sergeant Quinn would have summat to say if you try to get any of us flogged." There was no warning or censure in the words; Thompson merely stated it as fact. "I know me duty, after all."

And if the sailors and other Marines looked askance at Thompson's attempt to help De Guarde, let 'em. He didn't particularly mind what they thought, after all.

"He would. Think he'd say.. allright, make your pick?" He asked in faintly amused tone. He wasn't too sure that Quinn would do anything but deny him the right of a punishment of the marines. Nor would he be satisfied with any reason he were to give, unless of course the crime of a redcoat was clear to his eyes. It did not sit well with the boy, but at the moment he doubted he'd care.

"T' strange may some day be your undoing.. private." He spoke in half thought.".. You may see kindness in men that may.. so not be." He knew not what he said it, just that he'd felt to warn the man who had offered his own generous nature in return.

"..Best you hope that the Terpsy is indeed all that you think it can be." He looked up."... Any moment now... n' the French will respond to our salvo. " And the thought gone he turned and was thinking of lying back down , but wasn't quite sure if it were proper in the presence of the red coat.

"I've not before had a lobster flogged." A musing, what it was.

Thompson snorted and grinned. "Don't reckon so, no, sir. And... thanks for sayin' that. I'll be careful who I speak to, then sir."

The guns were still firing somewhere above their heads, but Thompson didn't think the French had yet fired back. He hadn't heard anything to make him think they had, anyway, though they did have a habit of firing into the rigging, aiming for sails, cordage and spars. He wondered what was going on up there.

He shot a wry look at the middy. "And I ain't a-goin' to be the first lobster you bring t'the gratin', neither, sir."

"...I'd thought you had volunteered when you came down here to watch me." He answered in a near nonchalant manner, and was surprised, for if Thompson would learn what his tone had meant, he'd know this had been as close to a fair tease as he'd ever gotten. Even more so, on board a ship such as Terpsy.

".. Ain't it so, lobster?" He held his smile at bay, and with it the indication that he did not mean it. Not unless the private would do something that warranted punishment of course. But so far, he could have felt somewhat lucky.

"Aye, I did, sir. What's that got to do with anythin'?" Thompson frowned a little, slightly confused, wondering where De Guarde was going with this. "I just happened to be the first one to get to the companionway, sir."

And the result had been rather interesting, to say the least. If any of the others had got there first, they'd have stood outside and kept a politic silence, which would've led to both 'prisoner' and sentry being bored stiff.

"..You were first to volunteer. Of course." A grin spread across his face, but he didn't laugh. It wasn't the frown that held him back, but he felt more that it was wrong. Wrong to laugh and present himself as one who hasn't even got a control over his lighter emotions.

Satisfied he leaned against one of the chests, elbows against it, his back away from it. "...I won't have you.."Flogged. He tapped his fingers against the hard surface of somebody's chest. Probably Fletcher's. "So you can fair loosen t' stiffness from those shoulders of yours, private." He was risking and breaking an unwritten rule, to be talking and standing here. The boy should have demanded that the law is obeyed and that Thompson is to be at his station. But of course it would mean he would become bored again, and loose company that he was well enough enjoying. As much as he delighted in making others follow the said and written rules, he was now ignoring the later. Selfish perhaps, but done.

"Seein' as you've had to look down.. fer longer than your usual.., is your neck feeling any more sore?"

Where was this leading? Thompson' didn't know, but he did wish the boy wouldn't use the threat of the cat even in a teasing way... if that's what he was doing.

"A bit, sir. Nothin' I can't cope with, though."

Why, though? What made the young lad ask that of him? He tried to relax his shoulders a little, but the uncertainty just made him tense up. Hopefully it wasn't noticeable, because of the way he was standing. The woollen coat he wore, and the boatcloak over the top of it helped hide that a little.

He fumbled with the clasp of the cloak. "Reckon I'm warm enough now, sir. Thanks for lettin' me use it for a bit." He held the garment out to the lad, with a slightly hesitant smile.

".. very well." He took the cloak from the private and folded it first and then carried it to his chest. There he thought of placing it inside, but decided against it, and rather spread it out as he had earlier done with his other coat and his stockings. He hadn't cared if there were complaints about the moist garments on anybody's chest. None was present, and so he'd damn well make full use of the berth.

He sighed again and felt annoyed that he were meant to be kept down below like he'd done something wrong. What he did to the sailor was hardly a crime. If he had him talk, he'd know he had done it, he would have the men in question hung. And Chase would have bin flogged for insolence.

"You're scared... are ye?" The stiffness hadn't escaped him."..and worried?"

"A bit, sir." Nervous, more than scared, but that was the general way that Thompson was feeling. Off-balance and unsure of himself, would be another way of putting it. Though he thought that what he'd said had been fairly well received, considering how De Guarde usually reacted to things.

If he thought he was facing some sort of interrogation, as he'd done earlier, he'd probably be standing to attention right now. Though that wouldn't help anything, of course. But if De Guarde started... stalking him, was the only way Thompson could think of it, the way the middy asked innocent-sounding questions before dumping the poor lad in it... he'd stand to attention and worry about the consequences later. Right now, though, he was watching the lad, looking slightly puzzled and feeling a little wary.

"... Then I'll have to remind you, private. .. We are confined... or rather, I am confined down below. You are apointed to keep watch over me. As much as I may feel, that such a setting is unfair,.. "He hadn't added , to both of us, though he had considered:" I am neither in a possition to file a complaint.." He lifted his hand and made a slight wave as if to emphesize his point: " Nor have I willingness to do so." His eyes narrowed on Thompson and he spoke as seriously as any adult would.

"... See here, private. If I am to threaten you.. you shall turn lobster like on me. You'll stand outside. Won't ye?... n' be as quiet as a mouse. Am I to gain from that?.. No. I've not meant it seriously earlier.. when I've suggested that you might be the first. " His voice softened, though he still looked like he was explaining it to a child. " Will that now put you at ease?"

That was fair enough, Thompson thought, and he nodded. "Though I dunno quite what you want fr'm me, sir, that I ain't tried to give already." He consciously made himself relax a bit more, trying to put the lad at ease. trying to put himself at ease, indeed, for he still wasn't sure if the young gentleman didn't have some ulterior motive in what he was doing. Though quite what he could be up to, the Marine didn't know.

He gave a half-smile. "All right, sir. You don't threaten me, and I won't go back outside. But you'll have to tell me what else you want, sir."

"...to talk." He answered simply. "What I want from you, is the ability to talk..with you and pass the time in which we are both to be set here, below." He motioned around at his berth. He didn't dare ask for a certain few things and though that they were foolish in considering any how. It was interesting to see the man react to his words, earlier that he stiffened up all sharply and now that he was relaxing again.

"..Dare bet how many times it may take for us to fire, before the Frenchman will give?" He knew this time was as bizzare as it was a once in a life time occasion. Fate had brought them to talk, permitted him to discover a good portion about the marine, his habits, his past, his skills and his musket. He wasn't quite sure how he could benefit from it, he didn't believe some of his words of guidance, but the company was pleasant and somehow it had him desire to continue. Atleast till he was released from his punishment, as this was surely. Perhaps even later. A marine on one's side never was a bad thing. Even more so, one willing. "N'.. I won't threaten' yer. .." He finally added. "...I promise."

"All right, then, sir." Though the Marine hoped De Guarde wouldn't think he could take advantage of his friendliness some time in the future and make him choose between his mates and the middy.

"Ain't got much to bet, and all Frogs are diff'rent, sir. Could take all afternoon, or it could be over afore the end of the watch. I reckon it'll take till six bells of the afternoon watch*." It had not long struck six bells of the forenoon watch, 11am.

*3pm

"Allright. I'll say 't will be four..." He shifted. It had been a good plenty of water and drink he'd been having since morning and the strain was finally to be shown. "...I hope 'tisn't fer long..." He mumbled and shifted at his spot again. "... I'll need ter..." He didn't have his sentance finish, but he did not in the direction and looked less than happy about it.

If the lad needed the head, he'd have to wait. It wasn't that Thompson would mind having to escort him, but up topside was where the battle was, and therefore it was a dangerous place to be. Not that Thompson was shy, it was just he preferred to be able to join in if he had to be exposed to enemy fire. And then a thought occurred to him.

"Um, do you use the heads, or the officer's privy, sir?" The officer's privy was less exposed, though still likely to be dangerous, if the French were firing at that side."

"Could go.." He hesitated. "'s not as if any officer would need it ..at t' moment." He didn't want to expose himself to unnecessary danger, though at the same he could well want to do something about his small discomfort.

"Straight there, and straight back, sir. Or we'll both be for it." Thompson didn't fancy watching an increasingly desperate middy try to restrain himself and hold it in - and who knew how long the battle was going to go on for?