Off-watch with the Marines

Sometimes Ware was an idiot. Branning shook his head again. Must be a side-effect of Ware's friendship with Higgins.

"Don't care if he does got a name," Ware was saying lazily. "Didn't stop him bein' a disgrace."

"Here, Miss Emily," Branning said, pointedly ignoring Ware. "Betcha gettin' tired of us lads prattlin' on so much."


OOC - I'll have to remember that. And I recoded and posted the roll up on LJ. It's the short one though.

Allen stifled a laugh upon hearing that Ware couldn't even remember Brandeson's name. Obviously most of the Marines had tried to forget about him, yet Allen had always found it mighty hard to forget an officer's name--even if he was a drunken fool. He glanced at Branning and then looked down at Emily.

"Ah, I'm sure she don't mind, jus' as long as someone's givin' her some attention. She could prolly care less if we're prattlin' on or not," he said.

[OOC: Yay for Hampshire Marines! And Kent ones too, of course! ]

Oxley grinned down at the cat in his arms. "She stops visitin' us, it'll be 'cause she've got tired of all the prattlin' on. She just likes a fuss, is all. Dontcha, Miss?" He rubbed under her chin.

(OOC - Yay! Anyone for cricket?!)

Ware pulled a face at Branning, shifting forward so he could scratch Miss Emily's back. "Course she likes a fuss, ain't she a lass? Even if she's a cat."

"So that's the trick of it, huh? Give the girls a fuss?" Emily seemed to be enjoying all the attention, anyway - and much better to talk about her than Brandeson.

"Oh aye," Ware said, looking faintly smug. "Harf the trick's keepin' 'em interested, y'know. Flighty as brids, lasses are. 'Less ya treats 'em just right."

Branning rolled his eyes. Ware spent more time chasing skirts whenever he was ashore than he did with his mates.

Well, Oxley knew how to treat this one right, and scratched behind her ears again. No wonder she liked visiting the Marines' messdeck when Mister Leat wasn't around, he thought. The Marines always gave her a fuss. Well, most of them did - Corporal Johnson was as bad as Bakewell at not wanting her near him or his things, though that was probably more to do with her leaving fur all over everything.

"You ain't found a lass you wants to marry then, Ware?" he asked, grinning. Ware and marriage... nah, wouldn't happen. Good for a tease, though.

"Marry?" Ware looked incensed at the idea. "Not me! Where's the fun in that?"

Oxley shrugged. "Some nice lass to cook an' clean for you... I'd've thought you'd like that well enough."

Though he'd only recently discovered the idea of girls himself, it was still fun to tease the older man. Couldn't take it too far, though, or he'd get in trouble.

At that, Branning chuckled. The idea of Ware wanting anything more from a lass than a fling was pretty amusing.

Smirking, Ware said, "Mebbe when I'm old an' feeble, that'd suit well. Place I came from, a lad did better shiftin' fer himself than relyin' on a lass."

Oxley nodded at that. That sounded familiar - most of the lads he knew had had to shift for themselves and found it easier to do that in the King's service than out of it.

"But what if there ain't a lass who wants to marry you when you're old an' feeble?" he said. "Can't imagine you gettin' thataway, anyhow."

The idea of Ware growing so old he couldn't fend for himself was a strange one, after all.

"If there ain't, there ain't," Ware replied, stretching idly. "Don't plan on gettin' feeble anyhow. Old, mebbe, 'cause that happens, but not feeble."

Branning shook his head. "Me ol' grand-da used to say that. He got so he couldn't move wi'out somebody helpin' him, 'fore he died."

Oxley looked at Branning. That was old.

"I never heared o' that happenin' afore," he said, pausing in stroking the cat. "Musta bin real strange, that."

Bakewell shook his head, still thinking of marriage. "Don't get married when you're old and feeble, mate. Need to be a strong and healthy man to put up with a wife. And even then it ain't so easy. Don't know how men on land can do it, livin' at home all year."

Thompson grinned. "They get used to it - most of 'em ain't known no diff'rent, growin' up wi' a father an' mother, both."

He shifted a little, trying to ease the ache of his ankle. At least it was only aching now that he wasn't having to try to put weight on it, hobbling from one place to another. And the doctor had given him a crutch too, which had helped a bit when coming back from the sickbay.

"Hmph," Ware grunted. "That's assumin' ma an' da is both worth anythin'."

Branning glanced at him in surprise. "Ain't right, talkin' bad 'bout yer parents."

"Ya din't know mine," Ware said with a smirk. "An' I don't plan on getting married anyhow, Bakewell. Old or not!"