The Middies' Berth

"I mean, a bit like we are now, sir. Other folks can be respectful-like, when talking with an officer, you know. And.. if you'm still prepared to write for me, I'll have to talk with you even when I ain't standin' sentry on you any more. You... you will still do that, won't you, sir?"

Bare feet drummed over the deck and several grinning, cheerful faces appeared. One of the seamen cried, "We carried 'er, sar!"

Another called "Let's go up forrard, Chicken, the sawbones got ol' Williams up there!"

The seamen bustled away, chattering and cheering as they went.

(OOC - back. It was fun, nobody got hurt!)

"..I will still write for you, private. I have made that deal with it in mind. It would be strange were I to suggest.. only while under watch." He shook his head and chuckled:" Hope you don't think I'll be that frequently down below!"

And then he heard it. The English tongue of merry voices. They won.

"Think we won't need those coats as distraction after all." He spoke and began to stand." Best take them before someone comes.." He looked down at Thompson and smiled:" I'll be back on duty in an instant..But.:" He nodded shortly:" Once I'm free, I'll write for you as agreed." He made his way for his middie's coat. "Don't forget ter stock." He added turning to his watch man.

Thompson grinned. They'd won! There'd be prize money and to spare, surely? He picked his stock up and sighed as he slipped it into place, buckling it up at the back of his neck. He stood up to take his crossbelts off and pulled his jacket back on, then settled his equipment back into place.

"I'll have to think what to say, sir," he said, and bit his lip. "I reckon... I reckon I'd best stand outside now, if'n they'm all comin' back here, sir."

"Best you do, yes. " He nodded adjusting his coat around his shoulders, and tightening his neck cloth as well around his neck. Straightening his hair with a hand that ran through it he turned to Thompson. "..what to say?.." He blinked and shrugged his shoulders lightly. Placing all the hats in their proper chests and rolling his cloath back up and placing it into his own, he left only his wet coat and stockings and such outside to dry.

Pleased with the arrangements he wondered if prize money went for all, or just those that were permitted to fight. And frowned thinking that logic said one thing surely.

The Marine felt shy suddenly and looked down - as far as the stock let him, anyway.

"I... thank you, sir, f'r chattin'. It was real nice talkin' to you."

He turned around, from where he was peering at his sea chest and paused. For a moment he looked serious, near as if he'd returned to his cold self, but then he smiled and nodded. "...." He opened his mouth to say something turned back to the chest, then again at Thompson. "...it was pleasant." He murmured. His form of thanks, for it seemed he was not yet fully ready for a proper one. Still the smile on his face and the softness of his words agreed to what the true meaning had been.

"Took our time.." He added and then turned to the door, listening for the footsteps.

"I'll be... I'll be just out here, sir."

The middy might not have been able to say the words, but Thompson recognised the meaning in what he had said. He reluctantly moved to the door, slipping outside to resume the appearance of a dutiful sentry. And now he could start worrying all over again about what Mister Yates was going to say, and to whom.

He nodded and watched as the marine slipped out the door, and then he placed himself to lean against the outher wall of the berth, feeling the very slight movement of their vessel and the soft screetch as wood rubbed against wood. They'd have to bring the two ships fully appart soon and then.. he wondered how great the damage was and if they had already sanded the floors which were possibly covered in blood. Have they been chugging the limbs that were too damaged to keep over board already?

How many had died in the mayhem , the number of wounded also interested him, on both sides and well, he was just glad that he had not been kept restless and bored below even if nobody was to know. Except, Yates did. And he swore that if the boy dared anything... well, he hoped the midshipman would be smart enough to keep his tongue.

There would be all the clearing up and things that always needed doing after engaging them enemy, but Lieutenant Bush, or Leat, would surely remember them soon, and finally sort things out down here too, allowing Thompson to return to his own berth and the middy to think about what they'd talked of, and maybe to show the others some of what Thompson had seen.

He hoped the officers wouldn't take too long.

De Guarde did feel slightly more nervous now. With the battle over the strange time when rank had been mostly forgotten was over as well. Now the sour reality returned and with it the memory of the anger that both Leat and Bush had shown upon him. There was the slightest hope that the lieutenants fell during the fight, but as luck went.. the ones one wished most to go, usually lived to a very old age.

He frowned when he found himself pacing and stopped again leaning against the wooden frame. All would be well of course, he kept on telling himself.

How soon would things be sorted out on the French ship and topside on Terpsy? Thompson wanted to know who had been hurt, what had happened... and what was going to happen to De Guarde. Despite all the reassurances he'd offered the lad, he knew that, were he to get turned before the mast, he would find it very different to life as a midshipman. He hoped it would do the lad good, but it all depended on what the Captain said. And the sooner this uncertainty was over, the better for all concerned.

He just hoped it was be dealt with soon.

Seeing that there was still noone that would come down to retrieve them he wondered if he could steal himself a few more moments in which he would converse with the red clad man. He was still ignorant of the fact that there was a lieutenant - Leat - that had been injured badly enough that he was brought below unconscious, and that moreso, the Captain was also suffering an injury which had set him in need of rest and in time of danger. If he knew, he might've thought that the whole would be complete with only the last lieutenant to hold ill will against him as strong as Leat, lieutenant Bush, be equally undisposed.

He could as easily have slipped behind the door again if he heared voices and would keep his own more silent now, so that only them two could still hear it.

So decision mostly made, and knowing not for how long they would still remain waiting, he slowly nudged the door open and peered outside and at the marine: "Seems, they're cleanin' up now." He spoke in a soft , light tone that barely carried itself to the other man. "Might take them a while.. if they won' have mind to celebrate firs'." He glanced down one side and then the other before averting his gaze back at Thompson. "Heared anything.. of the injured?"

And the door was pushed open behind him, and De Guarde peered out to ask about the wounded.

"No, sir, I ain't heard anythin' of 'em at all. Though I think the surgeon's gone across to the Frenchy to see 'em. Are you all right there, though?"

The ship was still quiet apart from the occasional creak and groan where the Terpsy was still locked together with her French opponent.

"I am. No Frog hiding in 'ere ter try and jump an unsuspecting middie." He made the joke and smiled." Aye, I am. A bit.. " He wanted to say nervous but he bit his lip reminding himself it was not right for a gentleman to show his weakness, even if there was plenty enough of that earlier. So instead he just shrugged and smiled.

"Two ships now. They'll probably keep all the French prisoners on the.... .. other ship." He didn't even know what the Frenchy was called. Oh well. "They'll just send some of you marines, and some of the crew and a lieutenant or so over to man her. Atleast till we get into port." Which was something Thompson probably already knew.

"Good that t' storm's gone. ..Don't sound like Terpsy's in a fair good state. Rammin' against the other one like she did."

"I dunno what they was thinkin', doin' that, sir. Can't have done Terpsy any good at all, poor old girl. An' I reckon they'll send a proper prize crew aboard the Frenchy as you say, sir."

He reckoned the middy was nervous. Only a fool wouldn't be, when in trouble with the First Luff. But there was nothing much he could say to reassure the lad, much as would like to. he could only repeat what he'd said earlier, and that wasn't much use to the lad.

"Just keep your pecker up an' try an' look on the bright side," he said, wondering if there was a bright side for the lad.

"Well 'tleast she's not sinkin' on us. Didn't hear the pumps doin' any more than their usual. " He looked down aft again and then the other way as if expecting a figure to materialize. He did calm himself with the thought that they were most busy at this time. Taking care of the wounded, bringing them to the surgeon or having a surgeon run to them, the rest had to clear out the remains of splinter and rope, retie loose ends, see how much of a beating the sails have taken, make sure that they are in fit enough condition for once they will use them. Even have the ships slowly set to sail alongside each other rather than against.

"I'm jus' wishin' we could go up already. They'll be short of hand, I'm sure. " Perhaps any more midshipmen had been injured in the melee.
He tried to think that the threat was and had been one made by a Luff as a bluff. And he found it more and more important that he was telling himself that to have himself believe it. Then again, Confidence hadn't had such a case happening, so really.. it must have been a sure bluff.

" n'.. I want ter see." Mild curiosity of a youngster.

"So do I, sir, but I ain't allowed to let you leave here without the Captain, Mister Bush, Mister Leat or Mister George tellin' me you can. Not even to have a look. Otherwise it'd be the gratin', and I ain't having that again." Thompson sounded regretful but firm.

He softened a little. "I know it ain't fair, but this is the Navy. An' you'll get your chance to see soon enough, I know you will. An' you might wish you was back here when you do." Though he'd try to stick close to the lad until they knew what was going to happen. And if he did get turned before the mast, he'd want to see one friendly face at least.

"I Know.. I know." He did not like it a single tiny bit and yet he knew that even if he would demand it, his word stood as nothing against the lieutenant's and even less against a captain's. Ofcourse it didn't mean that he had wished to see it and thus hoped that someone would come and say that his stay below was no longer needed and that he is allowed and also given an order to head above. That in relation to working as the rest to clear the ship and make her savy again.

" Ye think i'd be shyin' away from t' carnage?" He asked somewhat bluntly and glanced past the marine then back to him. " 's not t' most pleasant thing to see certainly, but it's t' ladies that shy and whimper away from it.. not proper gentlemen." He was of course, speaking of him in that term.

"N' yer not allowed to leave either, till any of them come ter tell you different or.. ter another marine takes yer place, ain't it?" He grinned. Well, Thompson was as stuck here as he was.

"I ain't seen you in a fight, sir, but no, I don't think you'm shy. And yes, I have to stay here till I'm relieved or you'm sent for. Ain't nothin' I haven't done afore, that." He grinned. "That's all you folks think we do, stand sentry, though. Ain't it?" He offered a shrug, then.

"Though we c'n pull ropes and stuff like anyone else, o' course. It ain't pulling ropes - sheets, braces, clewlines and the like - that makes a sailor out of a man, or we'd all be rated 'able'. First thing a pressed man learns, how to sweat an' tail, like, haulin' on a brace or some such."

(OOC - I have shopping to do this afternoon, and will be back later.)

"Aye, we all consider yer t' sentry most'.. n' sometimes t' ones that run around with packs for no good reason only gettin' in t' way! " He chuckled, grinning at the marine.

"N' t' ones that keep sailors from trying ter escape when in port sometimes too. Well.. las' I guess some of us think you as men of continuous drill. Which is summat you do, don't ye , Thompson." He leaned a bit against the door frame, keeping an eye out for any form coming their way, and an ear at attention for any sound announcing one approaching.

"Ye ain't sailors. Dressed too prim for that." He added as if that was the sole reason why the marines were marines and were not rated able seamen instead.

( Ooc have fun shopping! Might be a bit late today meself too! See you!)

"Well, someone has to look smart an' do drill and ain't no sailor goin' to stand up as straight as we have to. Though Marines off-duty look pretty much like sailor, 'ceptin' for the forage hat. 'Cause we'm allowed to buy slops from pusser as well, to try to keep our regimental shirts an' things nice for when we need 'em."

Thompson' own favourite shirt was from the purser's slop chest; a blue-checked thing that had grown soft from wear, though the weave was still as coarse as ever.

"I see." It was interesting to learn the habits of marines from an actual source and not to speculate on his own from what he could observe and when he could.

"Well, I'd be damned if I ever see a sailor standin' as straight n' smart as a marine. They're not..t' right cut fer that." He smiled lightly and turned his head briefly to the left and right, checking again as he did earlier.

Why d' ye have that..." He pointed up to indicate the fluff thing on one's hat: "..'s jus' a part of the marine's wardrobe, like yer cross belts n' yer stock?"

"Aye. In th'Army, they have them the same as us, or green for Light Comp'ny, or white for Grenadiers. We don't have Lights or Grenadiers, though I think they used to, years ago. Just makes the hat look a bit smart-like. Not that it don't anyways, o' course."

He was a right curious lad, this middy. Just the same as the others, though less willing to show it, maybe, than some of the others. And that was probably to do with the captain and other officers on his old ship. At least he could ask his questions, here, and Thompson would try to answer them. The Marine hoped the lad would learn that he could ask questions of folks here without getting in trouble for it. He was only young, after all, and there was no need, in Thompson's opinion, for him to grow up too soon.

"Pardon me sayin' this.." He could not help but say it though:"...'s looks like summat ye'd use.. ter dust things away..'s.. .. like that. N' don't think you use it ter shine your.. t' plates like it , aye? Nay yer shoes." He looked aghast that he had said it and though he was confident that the marine would not dare to show offence, even if he felt it, he'd felt quite a fool for doing something of the sort.

"Ever got it caught on summat?.. Walkin' with t' low beams of ter ship?"