After the Battle

"...I've done me duty.. well enough." He replied coldly and looked at the rope. Though the sailor was quite right, and even he knew that he was doing it wrong, he was damned if .. well if he wanted to do any more.

And so he turned blame back on Chase:"...yer not doin yers.. playin' 'round n' stainin' other people's clothes."

Inside? Hardy looked sceptical. "Ain't seemed so nice every time I seen him. Well. Mebbe them Tars'll set him right. Hope they does, anyway."

"He don't seem to want to be nice. Hope he can learn how to be a Terpsy, though it's goin' to take a while, I think." He was feeling sceptical about it himself, but the lad would learn. He'd have to.

"Mebbe ya've done it, but yer duty as an Able don't hardly ever stop even if ya think it should or ya've done 'nuff." Chase lifted a hand to indicate all the other seamen who were busy working on various repairs. "An' mebbe I'm playin' 'round a bit, but I also done more work'n ya've in two bells than ya've done since movin' yer berth."

"For his own sake, an' ours too," Hardy agreed.

Thompson nodded. "He's a seaman now. If'n ya need to box his ears, ain't none of the officers goin' to say anythin' to ya. He's got to learn our ways. Cap'n don't want Terpsy turnin' inta his playroom - 's'why he's turned afore the mast, that."

He glared at the sailor at the mention of 'Able'. He'd felt it right true as an insult, and though it was what he now was, he still couldn't bear it to be said.

"...Tch.." He turned his gaze away from the sailor. "Don't ye fer one momen' think that I'm anythin' like ye, jus' because I was ... turned before ....jus' because I'm here." He couldn't even say it.

John rolled his eyes. "Ye'll get used enough so ye can say it soon, de Guarde. Ain't nothing ye should be ashamed of, really. Just think of it as a chance ter learn, when any mistakes wont' cost too dear."

He doubted that would help, though. But this constant sighing and lack of pride was enough to make him frustrated and close to joining in the general sentiment of teaching him to...swim.

"Ain't no one here who'll be soft, but fair we'd better be...and he'll get used ter it and be thankful, too, I reckon."

If their paths crossed again in the same way, Hardy wouldn't hesitate to box the boy's ears. That one would learn somehow.

"We'll see how he turns out. Might be them Tars sort him out on their own."

"Yer 'here' fer a reason," Chase said simply. " 'Sides it, yer ratin' is who y'are now, like it or not. Jus' like the rest of us. Sooner y'get used t'that an' start actin' right, the easier it'll be fer ya."

And now there was the fife playing "Nancy Dawson."

"Supper time, lads!" Billy called with a grin, abandoning his work immediately.

Keiju wrote:If their paths crossed again in the same way, Hardy wouldn't hesitate to box the boy's ears. That one would learn somehow.

"We'll see how he turns out. Might be them Tars sort him out on their own."

"Hope so. Or he'll get Mister Watts' rope's end, or worse, one o' these days." Thompson wondered whether even that would have any effect, though.

(OOC - I'm going to head for bed, I'm feeling really tired tonight. And I don't think I'll be around much at all this week; I've got a monster of an essay to write.)

Dropping the rope after Billy's sharp call he wiped his hand firm against Chase's shoulder and shrugged at the both that either sailor had to say to him. ".. If yer say so." Was what he answered, more interested now at the food that would be served.

With that thought on his mind he turned to follow the other sailor, his stomach growling and grumbling in agreement to the delight of food.

(ooc - best of luck with the essay.)

John eagerly followed the rest of them, hunger coming to life with the tune signalling food. he grinned to himself imagining the change in fare de Guarde was about to feel, and trying to work out if there was any reason to sit further away from the spare seat than he normally did.

However that was not to be, so instead he flopped in his normal seat, close to de Guarde. "Ye hungry, de Guarde?" he gave a nod to the rumbling stomach next to him, smiling.

The boy met Westdale with a cold glare, and a frown as his tummy betrayed him, and brought colour to his cheeks. "..Yes." He decided to say, tilting his head to see how food was to be served down below. He had never taken part or sight of the sailors eating, most because it was their sacred time that even the officers did not disturb unless if the ship was in danger and hands needed to get aboard to save it.

He was barely seated, and looked quite as uncomfortable, for his rear ached and he couldn't right kneel on the chest to be eating. He shifted again and a grimace appeared on his face, before he added with a frown: "My food's me own. Don't ye think ye'll be snatchin' any." He warned the sailor who'd heared the whole song of his belly.

John's smile grew. "Ye reckon I've got naught ter do but steal yer food, de Guarde? I'll be busy enough eating mine, ter start off with."

He risked a glance up towards the man sitting next to him, ignoring the slight note of pain that he might otherwise have picked up on. "Though, de Guarde, if ye don't want ter eat it...ye know where I am."

"You think me a fool. What else would I then eat, eh?" He asked sharply and frowned as his tummy made itself yet again known and he pressed a hand against it, trying to silence the rumble. Alas, it did no better than before, and he chewed at his lip waiting for it to pass.

He'd taken the first and perhaps only empty space that he could find, and a number that he received might have been of the earlier passed sailor. if it were so, the boy would have given it no care nor respect.

He dared a glance across the table and left and right of him, where Westdale was and beyond him, then to his other side at the men that were twice if not more of his height, and were compared to his weight, well enough to think him light as feather. He felt intimidated by that, for in the middie's berth some were taller and some shorter, and there were fewer in a greater amount of space. Quite on the contrary below with the sailors. He fidgeted more nervously at his seat and had to again shift so that he pressed most of his weight against his thighs.

His usual seat was between Dyer and Dunnett. With a grin, Chase tucked himself into the space between the other two. De Guarde was already acting up but it was amusing within the context.

"Nobody'll nick yer food, boy, 'less y'deserve it," the topman said. "Now stow it, or yer plate'll be the last filled."

He opened his mouth in protest, and bit down a retort. If looks could kill, his wooden plate would have been twisting in its last deathly pains. He did grumble something under his breath, and he did actually fear that they would make true with Chase's threat.

As his tummy impatiently announced, it wasn't something he'd most desired to happen even if the food was bare edible. "... How long then?" He asked annoyed, not used to the waiting as much neither.

"So" he began, trying to start a conversation that was safer, less likely to get him in trouble.

"what's yer normal fare, then, de Guarde?" He was always ready to talk about food, and there was a few minutes as the men slowly made their way, distributing food amongst themselves.

"My Fare?" with an eyebrow quirked upwards he turned to look critically at Westdale. "I'll assure you it is normally better than anything I expect in recieving 'ere." He leaned his head against his left hand, palm flat against his cheek. His right hand was also laid upon the desk and tapped impatiently against the wood, his feet dangling in mid air, for they did not reach the floor yet. They were pushed against his seat as if seeking out some support, and then made with shifting again, leaving the boy disgrunted.

"What is yours?"

John shrugged. "Filling food, salt meat, dough, tack, that sort of thing."

He eyed the move of the food filled plates down thte mess, waiting eagerly till it was their turn to receive their food.

"it's good, though, de Guarde. Jes' not quite what ye'd expect served at a fancy dinner on land, is all." he grinned in anticipation.

(ooc- I'm not sure what day it is, what food we're getting or how far we have to move to get the food, sorry. Maybe I should go to bed!)

"I'm sure it isn't." Nothing could compare to a fancy dinner out on land nor even with the dinner at the captain's table. At the thought of which the young boy's mouth watered and he looked near dreamily, imagining the food that was served that fateful night. He felt a twist at his heart as he looked around himself. The loss seemed so much greater now, that he could compare either choice food, either choice company and space.

He made a face, oddly glad that he had Westdale close as well as Chase. The two men he knew, and of them they proved atleast not to be vengeful yet. He wasn't sure if that was lulling him into false security, till the two, or trio if Billy was also included, would strike full worse. Something as simple as his clothes misplaced and hidden, would have him stand in full shame and embarrassement and know not what to do.

"We all get t' same don't we... Rations now too? T' Grog, I be meanin'?"

(No, no! And hm.. didn't we have Sunday sometime around ..eh, was it yesterday? I'm not sure either! Or was the Sunday talk for the Army?))

"Aye, we does," Chase confirmed with a nod. He passed Dyer's plate to him and added, "Rum ration's after we eat."

Taking the plate he studied it briefly and nodded, more eagerly than he had first wished. But with a shrug he turned to Chase.".. Since I am to have a mug borrowed, am I ter receive it t' same as this?" He pointed to his plate, remembering to have left all his worldly possessions in his chest, which was now safe in the hold, standing beside Dunnock's.