Mess deck

"Right. " He held onto his next plate for a few moments longer than he'd needed. He scrubbed at it absentmindedly, only careful of his fingers on the wooden surface. " Ye'um.... a fair good sailor." There was the uncomfortable silence again, as the boy struggled with words and what he wanted to say. Tried to look defiant at the same and stiffle his inquisitiveness.

"Topman.." He added. "...Ye'um... expectin' anythin' in return fer.. yer help?" He asked, still with the same plate.

There it was. That expectation of a return favour, even for something as simple as helping wash plates. Chase shook his head.

"Nope," he said.

"Nothing?" He spared a short fleeting glance at Chase and then quickly returned to the plate. The same plate as it was and as clean as it could ever be without water.

"..I'um." The word clung to his tongue with all fours, and the one that should follow it refused to even come as far. He held the plate at last to Chase. "..Would ye.. come ter see t' stallion I have ter watch?" He was again looking away, as if afraid that by looking directly at Chase any of his thoughts. and his mind was aflame with so many, could be read clear on his face.

Chase shook his head, confirming his denial of wanting anything in return. Other seamen would demand answering favours, but Chase saw little use in such things.

"Be glad to," the topman said, offering De Guarde a grin. Horses were strange creatures and he'd never seen one confined in the hold before.

"Then, then come with me after we'um finished. I'll show ye 'im up close." He felt himself relax. Chase was a strange fellow, so much he was learning. "But..ye 'ave ter be careful. He bites n' he tries ter stomp ye feet if yer come too close. A nasty temper...sometime. 'specially if ye um a freshest new face to him."

He bit at his lip. There was so much he'd suddenly blurted out that he felt embarrassed and ashamed about it. "'ere." He said quickly and held the plate to Chase. With the count they'd soon be done for their mess and then the kid was last to be scrubbed and washed clean.

"An evil-tempered beast? Sounds like ol' Cross-eyes in horse form."

Chase chuckled to himself and dunked another plate into the bucket. He wouldn't ever have thought it possible for there to be another living creature as foul-tempered as Corporal Johnson.

Mathew narrowed his eyes at Chase. It looked as if he would remind Chase that he were not to speak ill of someone higher in rank. He held that gaze, his hands working dutifully at the filth on the plate, the worn knot catching some of t' food specks in it's weave.

But then his features softened into a light chuckle. "Aye... jus' like 'im. 'cept I'um bein' in charge of him! N' he can't be demanin' none! Not even an apple, he can't."

He smiled, sheepishly.

"That's summat, sure!" Chase tapped excess water off a newly-washed plate and set it aside. "Gotta be better'n havin' t'deal with that devil-corporal, I'll wager."

"Oh, much. He's quiet mos' of t' time. He don't talk any neither. Jus' makes a sound like or a stomp. You 'ave ter watch his ears.. they tell some 'bout 'im. Warn you like!" He handed the next plate and peered into the kid to see if there were any more, for he'd lost count in how many he had.. they had finished already.

"As .. 's alright when they are up forward. Or towards you. He's jus' listenin' then. But when they'um back.. can mean trouble!" He smiled and held the final plate (I lost count myself XD) to Chase. " I'd pick Copenhag'n.. anytime over t' Corporal. Think t' marines would too. "

"I'd be dead worried if horses could talk," Chase remarked as he piled the newly-cleaned plates up on the messtable. "But I'll see fer meself if this four-legged fellow's any better'n Cross-eyes!"

" Might see t' mares too. We have two of 'em. They'um sweet'earts though." He lifted the kid.

" 's all we have left now, is this. Will we be jus'.. pourin' t' salt water in it, scrub around it n' pour it out into ter bucket?" He asked peering into the kid which did look rather filthy.

"Mares is lady-horses, right?" Chase peered down at the bucket of sea-water and decided it was still clean enough to be used to clean the mess kid.

"Aye, it'll do. Jes' like that!"

"Aye, mares are lady horses. Stallions are t'... male horses. " He shuffled the kid closer and waited for the water to be poured in, the knot squeezed tight in hand.

"We'um keepin' them appart. Jus' in case. Safer that way." He looked at his hands. Both of them had begun to show signs of wear and work. Actual work that did not consist only of climbing at times and otherwise mostly yelling and delivering messages and orders. Within the short time since the loss of his rank and heavy work, he was beginning to get more adapted and less in pain from all the physical work that the sailors had to do. Subtle changes were there.

"..'s there anythin' more we'um have ter do today? ye' know?"

Chase carefully poured some water into the kid so De Guarde could scrub it clean. "Safer, y'say?" He grinned, imagining just why that would be.

"Fer t'day, nothin' really, unless All Hands is piped or summat. Might be a little skylarkin' up topside if there's any lads wantin' it."

"Aye. Yer know.. bein' they'um mares n' stallions. " He leaned over the kid and began to scrub at its sides. There was much of the filth still clinging to the sides and it required some more force and commitment to remove it. He leaned in closer, and then slipped to one knee not to strain his back too much. He had been tempted to tell Chase to scrub the kid or come around having him do it. It was clear that it was not a thing he should be doing. Cleaning? Not something for a middie! Not something for him. He'd looked up, contemplating on the idea.

Chase had done some work already, much of what he needn't have. Not that he couldn't do more of course.

"Wonder if they'll have a dinner at t' cap'n's.." He felt his mouth water at the vague memory of food and drink served at a captain's dinner. If only he were a midshipman and they were invited to eat! The wine aplenty, the food most delicious! How he would be glad to have a plate of what they had that evening. And some of the dessert that he'd heared was served after wards. "I'll be a middy soon.. you know." He uttered. He was sore about not being one, but torn whether he would really have himself returned to his post. Sending a letter home would take far too long, probably.

Once finished his sore mood returned. It had been a few days but he felt himself far from fitting in.. nor wanting to. He stood and nodded to the kid."..It's done." He rubbed his hands, feeling salt burn at the small cuts that he'd gotten with the hard physical work.

"Ye can poor t' water out o' it." He motioned to the kid. "I have ter see back t' d' horses." And inquire on their guests. Any little bits of amusement he could find on that doctor. As well he wished to learn if it were true. A Frenchman on His Majesty's ship? Free to roam around? If it were true it would have been yet another confirmation of the ship's madness!

He straightened and wiping his hands at the table, then feeling them clean enough, tenderly dabbing them against his slops he pulled at his shirt, straightened it properly. Tugged at his slops, made them look presentable. A midshipman in disguise. He'd reached to his hair, remembering how a marine had bound it into a neat queue. Hair was now beginning to have its own mind though it looked hardly unpresentable. He Smoothed it out a little before being ever satisfied about it.

Chase had begun humming absently to himself as De Guarde, busying himself with thoughts of their next destination and what it might be like. He looked in near-surprise when the boy spoke up, announcing that he was finished.

"Right then," the topman said, hefting the mess kid and carefully pouring the water back into the bucket. "Meetcha in the hold, I s'pose, once I heave this lot over the side."

"..hold.. ah, 'right." The young former midshipman nodded, distracted by his attempt to make himself more presentable. Glad to be rid of the kid and the duties of the mess cook, he was quick on his feet to depart. Better be away sooner, it seemed. Before Chase would change his mind.

His bare feet carried him with a collection of soft patter away from the mess deck and back a few turns and squeezes, past the sailors in his way, to where he has left the stallion and the two mares. He approached cautiously and saw that the groom was not present. He imagined him curled up in his little piece of heaven and feeling as if he were in hell.

He studied the stallion wearily. Even with so many days passed he still did not feel as if to trust the animal not to try and kick him at the first opportunity it got. Slowly he approached the horse, and avoided an attempt at a bite. "Easy..."

The water in the bucket sloshed about as he carried the bucket up the companion ladder and across to the rail. When he up-ended the bucket over the side, he watched the water and bits of scrubbed-off food trail away into the curl of wake turned up by the bow.

Then, with that task completed, Chase returned to the messdeck. He stowed the bucket away, tidied up the cleaned plates and mess kid, and headed for the hold once he was satisfied that his particular mess had been set to rights.


OOC - Chase goes here.