A dirty business

"No. Doctor Crozier's much better. He looks at things afore decidin' what's needed. Like, he made sure of me ankle, that it was a proper sprain, and bandaged it up prop'ly. Let me have a crutch an' all, to help."

"Aye, he gave yer a crutch so ye can do more than sit n' beg fer someone ter help ye about or risk fallin' yeself. He asks too many questions though sometime. " He nodded. " N'... he writes letters.. that don't flatter us I think!

(Ooc _ and with this, this middie shall sleep, for he can barely find the keyboard xD night!)

"Mebbe he does ask too many questions, but he's the surgeon so he's allowed to. An' I never heared o' him flatterin' anybody. Least of all two lads who had a fight. Good thing you wasn't caught, I'll say that."

(OOC - Night then! See you!)

" Well, I said ter him that we fell, which we did. he couldn't write a letter sayin' summat else then , could he? " He didn't read that letter, so what was inside, was still a mystery to him. He knew, or atleast expected though that the thing that followed the reading of that letter were somehow related to it. He could've ofcourse been mistaken.

"Well..'tleast he's doin' 'is job n' he makin' sure yer ankle is safe n' healin' rather than telling you to hop on t' other leg n' not mind yer hurt one." He glanced at the crutches: "But he makes some unnecessary decisions too. Like tellin' yer your rations are stopped for a while! That's not at all needed n' don't help health neither."

"I dunno, lad. But even though you won't say it - which I c'n understand - folks know you an' Oxley had a fight. Mebbe the doctor just wrote to say you still said you tripped, I don't know." He shrugged. "I wasn't there, was I? And my grog's bin stopped till Monday 'cause of bein' on the sick list till then."

"..I'm still on t' workin' 'list' clearly. N' mine's been stopped too. Supposedly they be sayin' because I was clumsy, n' cos' of me eye being covered up.. but if I can work I think I should be gettin' t' ration's worth too." He frowned and stretched a little.

"N' even if ye were there.. ye wouldn't have known much more.. neither of us , Oxley n' me, did. N' he didn't let us get t' letter ter read it.. or that we'd stray about with it. He called Johnson to come along.. jus' for that. " He nodded and rubbed his ears in memory.

"Don't you think... when people hide it most, it starts to be most interestin' n' ye get your curiosity peaked n' ye can't help but want to see what t' thing they'um hidding is?"

"I dunno... Though he was the one who had them switch your wine at the captain's dinner, 'cause you was gettin' drunk. Mebbe he think you drink too much?" He shrugged; he really didn't know. And when it came down to things like that, the surgeon should know best.

"Aye, it is the way, that. If you ain't allowed to know summat, that's just what you want to know the most." He saw the boy rub his ears, and grinned a little. "You really should stop windin' the Corporal up. I ain't sayin' he's goin' to be all nice an' pleasant, 'cause chnces are he won't. But stop makin' his temper worse'n it already is. If he tells you to do summat, you just says 'Yes, Corp'ral' an' do it. Then he wouldn't box your ears or anythin'."

(OOC - got to go out...)

"But I dun' drink too much." He still remembered.. well partially remembered the dinner. He had drunk too much that day admittedly.

"Oh, I learnt that. I did. Though he ain't right fair. Oxley should've got his ears boxed too!" He scowled and crossed his hands. " I'um glad I don't have Johnson' fer me officer. He's got a temper worse than an a taunted bull! Not a gentleman like that at all.A proper gentleman..." And he grew quiet for he did realise that if loosing temper was concerned, neither was he a proper gentleman. For one such was not going off at a moment's notice, was he?

" Anyho'. Yer got a new officer, didn't ye? Wot's he like, ye rekon?"

(OOC - awww. See you!)

"Mebbe he should have. Life ain't allus fair, y'know." He shrugged again and crossed his injured leg over the other. "Seems all right. The sort who'll take charge prop'ly 'stead of leavin' it to other folks all the time. I ain't seen much of him to know for sure, though."

"Ah..not t' bes' time to fall down t' companionway eh?" He chuckled. "..Well you'll learn soon enough, n' from wot' others will be telling you. Wot' happened with your other one?.. t' drink hadn't .. right gotten him?" It was no secret that the man was drinking, even to the new arrival - de Guarde.

Thompson grinned ruefully. "No, that it wasn't. Mister Brandeson... Don't rightly know what happened to him. He was put ashore in Lisbon, though I don't know for sure why. Left everythin' to Sergeant Quinn, he done, which ain't right."

"Do ye know why he was drinkin'?.. Brandeson that is. Sure he had a reason, aye?"He wondered about the marine who stayed behind. Was it something he'd wanted or something he was to do.

Thompson shook his head. "He allus drank, fr'm the first time I seen him, nearly, an' I dunno for why. An' everythin' we did, Sar'nt Quinn ended up takin' charge, which just... Well, it ain't right, that." He sighed. "The officer's s'posed to be the one who's resp....res... in charge for everythin', an' takes the blame if'n it goes wrong." He grinned. "An' all the credit if'n it goes right, o' course."

"Who's responsible , ye mean?" He grinned. " An officer takin' t' blame? Nah.. well, infront of t' court aye, but not infront of 'is subordinates. " He smiled.

"Would be odd to hear Leat say: I did wrong! Or summat. ..." He shrugged: "Can't imagine t' captain saying it.. but, if he did do summat wrong n' t' ship got stranded.. then.. well, he'd be certainly answerin' later!"

(ooc - and with this the middie curls up and.. good night!)

"Be worse if'n summat happened an' there was an officer around, but the Captain hadta lay into the Sar'nt, 'stead o' the officer, though. 'Cause it don't work that way, neither." He looked past de Guarde at the horses.

"You'd best get on with what you'm s'posed to be doin', lad," he said, speaking kindly. "Don't want to get in trouble f'r slackin' 'cause you was jawin' with me. An' just 'cause you'm a-workin' don't mean we can't still talk, y'know."

(OOC - Night!)

"Aye. Yer' right. Not too much sound here, ter prevent us from doing so." He hopped to his feet, missing his shoes with those nice buckles and make, and walked his way back to the horse,

More hay was to bedistributed, and the water, waiting for the horse, was also 'on the menu'. He decided to change that first, and so hewted with him the bucked containing it. "Easy there." He uttered to the horse. "Just don't bite now." He added.

[Crozier comes from organizing medical stores]


Crozier had come to the hold to search for his misplaced stores. The crate of bottles, both tincture and salt mouth, had been found in the main hold without inordinate pains. And then, after much searching in the darkness of the spirit room, Crozier had at last managed to discover his lost carboys. He had sent Bridgens back up to the dispensary with them, and he himself had now to return the key to its master. He decided to take a short cut through the hold, but he stopped when he was hit with the unmistakeable smell of horse.

"I forgot about these stalls. Halley, how are you?" he called to the figure dimly visible up ahead.

Thompson nodded, satisfied. The lad was learning, slowly but steadily. He thought that even a few days ago, he might have protested at having to get back to work instead of sitting and talking.

"You got anythin' you want to talk about?" he asked.

"Thompson?" Crozier recognized the voice, and when he had come closer he saw the marine sitting and watching as De Guarde, not Halley, worked. "What are you doing coming down here with your ankle in that state? If it were up to me you'd be lying in a cot, resting easy. How is your ankle today?"

Thompson jumped at the voice behind him and turned to see the doctor.

"Oh. Hello, sir." He shrugged. "It's gettin' better, sir. Still aches a bit, an' I can't put much weight on it yet. Though it helps havin' the crutch, sir."

And if he wanted Thompson to end up spending his time in a cot in sickbay, just for a sprained ankle, the Marine thought he'd go mad with boredom. it was bad enough as it was, anyway.

"Well just be sure that you use that crutch. And don't over-exert yourself going up and down stairs. Coming down to the hold?" He shook his head disapprovingly. "And De Guarde, how is your eye feeling?"

Mathew peered from behind the stallion's head. His face contorted unhappily. All that was missing now was for Crozier to demand Thompson to leave! He dropped the bucket on the floor, his blind eye turned towards the stallion. Then he bent down to heft the water container up in a fashion that would enable him to pour it. The stallion stomped it's leg down, visibly restless from the shouting.

At the question , that the boy had nearly missed, he turned around, so he could actually see the doctor. "'s fine enough sir. Aches like a bruise.. but then 'tis a bruise, no?"

"Of course, sir." As if he wouldn't! He was grateful for it, actually, because it meant he could get around a bit better without putting his foot down. Putting any weight on his injured foot hurt, anyway.

Crozier nodded absently and moved closer to see the horse. "So this is General Wellesley's stallion, is it? I heard that you liked horses, De Guarde. This is probably the only time you'll ever see horses in a frigate. How are they behaving?"

"This one is a right.." De Guarde begun, turning to answer Crozier, and coming perhaps a tad bit too close to the animal. Copenhagen has been restless at it was , which the time on a ship, stuffed in such a small place hardly helped. He stood as still for a moment as if he were a good horse.

" badtempered." De Guarde murmured. His back to the stallion. The animal though looked to not be interested at all in moving. Almost as if he had settled. Perhaps calmed down. A true security at last? His beady eyes observed the young Midshipman as the first water was poured. Perhaps he was just thirsty. " 'n aye he's Wellesley's.. or so they say. He bites like there's nothin' else he could try... a mean thing." And the horse acted as if to fully disprove the boy's words.