The Middies' Berth

"Thank you, sir. It's just that... that I want you to be able to understand my Navy... to know that you can have it be yours as well. Only I don't know how to help you learn that, sir. 'Cause it's learnin' to think in a whole different way, sir. An' mebbe they'm too different - the ways you learnt on your first ship, and the things I know. But I want to help you learn, sir. That's all."

Because if the boy kept on doing things the way Confidence did them, he was going to keep all on getting into trouble. Only he couldn't see that, and it seemed that the lieutenants didn't see it either. And Thompson couldn't just walk up to Lieutenant Leat and tell him he'd got it all wrong and Mister De Guarde needed help to learn Terpsy's ways of discipline and doing things. That would be asking for trouble, lots of it - even here.

"They'll soon be t' same. Ye were sayin' Terpsy's young.. n'.. n' that means in time she'll mature inter bein'.. well, like them all." He nodded even if he remembered Thompson saying that not all of them were as Confidence, but that instead many were quite the opposite. He'd have to have seen it to believe it.

"So nay yer worry your head, private. I'm a midshipman. m' not so easy ter break, N' I've not been' like that yet!"

"It ain't the people that make a ship the way she is - it's the captain. And it don't take an old crew to be like your old ship. Surprise had been in commission for years and she was proper happy, and real nice to serve on, even if she was a bit small, only havin' twenty-eight guns, not thirty-two like Terpsy here has. And who said anythin' about breakin' you, anyways, sir?"

"Well.. yer all talkin' how I should be changin' ter what Terpsy seems ter want.." He turned his head away. "... Yer placin' odd things on ter table.. Thompson. Odd thoughts. "He placed hand to his temple as if those thoughts had been pushing down at his mind so that he felt physical pain from it. He of course did not feel pain, but it was just something that he hadn't thought before and one could only read such things in children's books where the world was made of honey.

"Why ye'um even tellin' me that?..ye know that I'll write fer ye, on an account of gettin' yer ration of grog. I don't ask fer more..well. Not in that way. Could ask that yer tell me about t' middies n' t' lieutenants, n' t' cap'n. But that's quite another story."

(OOC - sorry. Yahoo just made Firefox freeze up on me and I had to restart the computer. )

"If... if you don't like what I'm goin' to tell you, sir, I'm sorry. All right? Only, it seems to me that... you'm gettin' in trouble here 'cause you're tryin' to do things the way you're used to doin' them - the way they'm done on Confidence. An', cause that ain't the way things are done here, the Lieutenants don't like it. But they don't know why you'm doin' things that way, and haven't told you how they'd rather have you do things. I ain't criticisin' you sir - you bein' a middy, an' all. I'm just sayin' what it looks like to me."

( ooc - No problem . As long as all is well!)

"I'm not gettin' in trouble." He shrugged his shoulders faintly. " I'd be in proper trouble if I sat and idled n' then a lieutenant were ter know I'm there only once they tripped over me. That would be trouble but 'ere.. ye think 'twas trouble I was in?"

"I dunno 'bout bein' in trouble, exactly, sir. Only, I don't know quite what else to call it, like. But I think you should try Terpsy's way, just for a little while, and make your own mind up what works best. An', please don't get angry with me for sayin' that, sir."

De Guarde... this De Guarde was turning out to be much more pleasant than Thompson had imagined, only he was still a little nervous of the middy's temper. If he said something wrong, the lad could easily make things very unpleasant for him.

"I won't." He said with an air of finality. "Nor do I know it.. even with your words attempting to describe, neither do I wish to be with sailors anything more but their superior. They aren't my friends and I'll hardly consider them as anything but tools in having the ship work as she should. They deserve not to be pampered, nor to they deserve ter be treated as if they were special."

His voice remained kinder, even if the topic he spoke of was less than appealing. "Not only would me changin' air be somethin' that might make me weak in their eyes... n' have me loose me credibility but it would also .."He could pretend, and yet even pretending to do so felt by far less worthy of his effort. Beneath him.

"It would have me to be seen as equal with them...an aspect I'd most certainly prefer to avoid."

"I don't mean for you to treat 'em like they was equal to you, sir. Only... I dunno. Just watch how Mister Leat, or any of the other officers, talks to 'em. They... they expect to be respected an' saluted and that. If anyone didn't give 'em that, he'd find hisself in trouble sure enough. I just mean... well, talk to 'em like you've been talkin' to me, a bit." He shrugged. "I ain't stopped callin' you 'sir' and started talkin' to you like you was another Marine, 'cause I know well enough that you're a midshipman in His Majesty's Navy. But you ain't been talkin' down to me." He paused again, and sighed. "I don't think I'm very good at explainin' what I mean, sir, an' I'm sorry for that."

"You are much skilled in apologisin' though." He mused and observed the marine. It was a play of cat and mouse although this cat hadn't thought to eat the mouse once it was done. It seemed to be more interested in why the mouse looked as frightened and yet at the same time as daring towards it.

"I would hope to expect I am saluted.. my, they'd have ter salute even t' buttons of me coat, me not bein' in it!" He nodded again and straightened out, then he flexed one arm, followed by the other. It was more tiresome to stand, but he had little doubt that lying down would be a rather more awkward motion for a midshipman now that the others may arrive at any moment. Though he was starting to have doubt that they would come below to the berth at all.

"You'd think it pretty strange of me to say what I've said without apologisin' for it, though, sir," Thompson observed mildly. "Like, if I was to stop callin' you 'sir', you'd soon snap at me and 'mind me of me place."

He wondered how long it was going to be before someone came back down here to tell the lad he was wanted by one officer or another, though now that the battle was over, he couldn't sit down and chat with the lad quite as he had done earlier. Sit down, and there'd be a middy there with a summons as soon as his bum touched the deck. And then he'd be in real trouble.

"True. But it is then used as an excuse. Like callin' one names n' making it seem that you were not and then tellin' them sorry. Makes it all the more evident you were wantin' ter call them such."

Made a few steps from the wooden wall, turned made a few back and then turned again, shifting his weight from his left to his right foot and back.

"Yes.. if yer stopped calling me sir, you would be in trouble. Wouldn't phantom the respect you ought to be giving me." He spoke mildly in return. " N' that wouldn't be good for you. ..But you know that yourself, my words may only sound as if I were repriminding you."

He shifted again then stopped. "Yer coat is slight' off. Private. on the larb.... left corner side."

"Ain't much difference between soundin' like you'm reprimandin' someone, and doin' it for real," the Marine said, tugging at his jacket, and pulling his crossbelts straight. "Is that any better, sir?"

"Much. Wouldn't want that yer Sergeant or corporal finds you in disarray and thinks you've been slacking." He nodded and studied Thompson with a critical eye as if searching for anything out of place. " Fair it is."

He concluded that and stopped again to adjust his own vest and his breeches and stocking and with them his neck cloth and collar as well. He did so till he was certain they were all as prim and as proper as if he was heading out for parade. No need to lack an impression when he had lacked the opportunity to fight.

" Don't drop ter musket neither.. though I'd wonder if the musket did more damage to the floor than the floor did to it."

"I ain't likely to drop me musket, sir. I take too much care of her to risk that." He was standing at ease, the musket tucked firmly between his body and the crook of his right elbow. "She ain't goin' nowhere, sir, trust me." Twelve years in the Corps, most of them at sea, had given Thompson ample experience of keeping his balance when on sentry belowdecks, and keeping firm hold of his musket at all times.

He could hear footsteps and voices from for'rard but nothing that sounded as if it was coming their way. Not yet, anyway.

"Yer think of your musket as a lass?" Well they called their ships as a she, and there were ample examples that many an article that was pampered with frequent attention got such sentiments to follow them around.

"What do you think of her...or how better to phrase this." He glanced at the weapon. "Do you see 'er as anything but a musket.. no, not quite it.. but try ter answer and we'll see!"

He lifted his gaze upwards and then he peered out left and right again and the result remained the same. No officer, no midshipman, no sailor even, to come or just pass them by. Atleast a rat proved that it wasn't a ghost ship on which they just stood. Scampering and squeeling at the time she had seen them. She hopped across a few planks, ran the rest of the way, turned a corner and slid inbetween the chests stored further ahead.

( ooc - and now this middie needs have some shut eye else there'll be zombies out and about tomorrow! Good night!)

He scowled at the rat, while thinking about what he'd just been asked. Doubtless Emily would be on the prowl round here soon, if the rats were out.

"Dunno quite what you mean, sir. She ain't as nice as holdin' a proper lass, of course, though she needs the same sort attention to keep her lookin' right, and firin' proper. An' she can be a bit, well, bad-tempered at times, an' not fire at all when there's no reason. So I have to treat her nice so that she don't let me down. An' I don't s'pose that made any sense to ye at all, sir."

He grinned and pulled his musket a little tighter into his side.

(Night! See you tomorrow, I hope?)

(Certainly !)

"It makes all sense, if yer want ter believe me or not. T' Terpsy herself .. n' t' Confidence.. I thought them as lasses too. N' they are jus' lots bigger than a musket, but they are sometimes even worse like. A moody kin' of creature.. n' ye can't even jus' hold her like ye can do a musket. 's on her that you stand n' she provides shelter for you n' yet at the same time she can right buckle n' throw ye." He lowered his gaze and gently ran a hand against the wood. "...but they're nice. They let yer..." He turned silent and shrugged.

"Well. .we were talkin' bout ye musket aye. Ye be talkin' to her sometimes? Like, when yer cleanin' 'er? or when ye're pickin' 'er up?"

"When I'm firin' her, mostly, but otherwise when I'm cleanin' her. She'm a right good lass, but that's 'cause I look after her right. An' Terpsy's a right good lass, too, of course."

He smiled and raised his free hand to the beam just above him. "It might take a bit of time and effort to understand the way she does things, but she'm right nice. An'... even if you don't think so, I think Cob Chase will help you understand her a bit."

"I don't want him to teach me. I don't trust him." He sighed."..You have nought but good ter say about t' Jack Tars, but would ye have any good to feel if I had yer flogged?.. Deserved or no, ye'd be certain not to do me good. N' neither will he."

He glanced at the musket: "m' not needin' ter tell ye to take care good of her. Yer know that already, by' t' sight of it."

"I didn't say as it'd be easy - for either of you, sir. I just meant... you could both learn a lot from it, if you'm willin' enough. But you have to be willin', or it ain't goin' to work, and it'll just be a trial for the both of ye. And if he feels like that, you'll have to work a bit harder. That's what an officer'd do, right enough. The sort of officers I've had, I mean."

He smiled shyly, running his hand gently over the barrel of his musket. "Thank'ee kindly for the compliment, sir."

"I don't need ter work for a sailor ter do his duty!" He muttered and looked at Thompson sharply. He held the gaze for a moment and then it softened slowly:" I don't like him.. 's summat that won't change. N' I'm sure it's still 'is fault for all that happened. Maybe he didn' order it.. but I'm sure 't was done because of him."

He noticed the shy smile and looked atleast kinder than before: "..'s.. alright." He added subtly and nodded. " Jus' keep ..what yer doin'." He wasn't used to telling someone that what they did was good, and though it showed he hoped it wouldn't.

"You don't know him, to know whether you like him, sir. Like you didn't know me afore all this talkin' we done. At least give 'im a chance, sir. Please. An' if it don't work, then it don't work. But you'll have tried, and folks'll know that."

He smiled properly at De Guarde's final words. "Aye, sir. She'm a good lass, worth a bit o' work, like."

"Yer a marine. I've told yer, that's different. A marine 's not like a sailor." He answered, but whatever more he wished to say was lost to that smile.


" I won't ask you to show her to me again now. There may be officers coming and it would do no good, were you to be found exchanging a weapon with one you are to guard. But later I would wish to see her yet again. I can carry her weight, as you have seen. Even If I may be unable to fire her yet." He nodded, and made sure that Thompson understood he did wish to see it, not to see if she was clean. For he had seen that twice. But to look at her as a lass and the pride that Thompson carried with him.

"How good of a shot are you with her?" He turned his attention from the weapon back to the man holding it.

(OOC - have to go for a short while! Will be back later!)

"'Course you c'n see her ag'in, sir." Thompson's pride was evident in the warmth of his words. "I'm a fair good shot with her, sir. Can hit a barrel at a hundred yards - y'know, towed out by a boat. And a bottle at twenty-five. Both from deck. Ain't many as can say that, sir. Not with a musket, at sea, anyway." Thompson was proud of his uniform, the Corps he was part of, his ship, and his expertise with a musket, and he hoped that one day the lad would understand what it was to be proud like that.

(OOC - I'm away till about lunchtime, when I'll be back for a short while before going to work)