Afternoon antics, Sunday

De Guarde watched the two drummer boys climbing the shrouds. Twins working their way up competing against the other and quite surprisingly both sporting an injury to their hand. He remembered how this would've gone if they were Tars or perhaps even as marines, in the past. They'd have both gotten a telling to at best, and gotten in trouble for it, most usually. At the moment though he hadn't cared for it, but for their Andrew to get up, get down faster than the other one.

His hands balled into fists as he watched in anticipation.

It was hard going, trying to keep from losing his bandage on the rough ropes of the shrouds. Thomas had managed to gain a slight lead on his brother as they got closer to the crosstrees, but it was an advantage that could be easily lost when they had to make their way back to the deck.

A quick touch of the rag and go for the nearest backstay. Andrew had caught up, but he'd always been quick at sliding down backstays. Thomas cursed and whooped as he hit the deck just half a step behind his brother.

"Gettin' slow in your old age, Andrew," Andrew crowed, deliberately addressing his brother by his own name. It was another game they played from time to time.

"Long's I'm faster than you," Thomas replied.

Oxley blinked, looked from one to the other, and grinned. 'Thomas' had his shirt half-untucked, something that only Andrew Shepherd would ignore. He shrugged mentally. If they wanted to play that game, he wasn't going to spoil it. Let the other lads try to work out who was who for once.

He grasped a shroud in one hand, pulling himself up and round to stand on the bulwark before scrambling up the ratlines, Jacky Fisher a bare second or so behind him.

"Go boys!" Thomas shouted, his gaze fixed on the two boys flying up the rigging. Jacky Fisher had better make up the distance even though it was barely noticeable.

His brother was cheering both boys, not really caring who was ahead of who.

They'd reached the futtock shrouds by now. Oxley didn't even think as he shifted to hang backwards at what appeared to those unused to it to be an alarming angle. He wriggled into the top, and reached for the next set of shrouds. Marine or not, he was determined to be the one to bring the piece of rag down.

The boys beneath cheered for their team mate, urging them on and raising many a head from the common sailors that were about. Some went to look to see what was going on, while others sat on, mending their shirts, tying their hair again or just sitting about.

The chanting had grown in volume enough that even furthest below decks could hear it. Some jumped in excitement, others lifted their fists up. De Guarde cheered for a while, then turned silent, breath caught in his throat, as he watched Oxley. Could he do it? And not fall. Best he not fall too! There was the cloth, one of the two boys would be first to it.

The noise from topside could be heard on the Marines' messdeck. It was enough to cause Branning to pause in his carving to look up at the deck overhead. Whatever the ship's boys were up to, it was going to draw an officer's attention before too much longer.

"Damn fool boys," Shriver muttered from his hammock, bad-tempered as always. "Course they can't ever behave themselves."

Branning rolled his eyes and tucked the half-carved block of wood back into his sea-chest. He was intrigued by the cheering from topside, and decided to check it out. The big Marine made it topside in time to see Oxley and Jacky Fisher scramble up the futtock shrouds high above.

"Din't know there was a pack of monkeys loose up here," Branning commented playfully, looking over the group of boys in amusement.

Some of the boys turned quiet enough to grin at Branning. They knew the man for a kind sort, unlike Shriver. Two of the boys exclaimed in union:" Oxley/Fisher's winning!" They looked at each other then both looked up at the shrouds.

It might have only been organised between the boys, yet it had been as intense as if the whole crew had compeeted.

"That good?" Branning shaded his eyes as he looked up into the rigging again. It seemed a dead-close race. The two lads were close to the fluttering white rag and the cheers of the boys on the deck increased in volume.

"Jacky's gonna get it!" One of the Shepherds cried, leaping up onto the base of the shrouds, trying to see better what was going on above.

Jacky was not going to get there first - Oxley was determined he wouldn't. He grabbed for the rag, seizing it as it fluttered in the wind. Jacky's fingers brushed it as they closed on empty air and Oxley grinned, waving it once above his head before wrapping it quickly around his hand and moving to a backstay to head back down to the deck.

There was a groan from Jacky Fisher's supporters when Oxley grabbed the rag just an inch before Jacky could reach for it. Branning grinned. He was pleased that it was a Marine coming up on top, even if it was a drummer boy.

"C'mon, Ox!" Andrew - or at least Branning thought it was Andrew - Shepherd cried, waving his fist in the air.

The delay in wrapping the rag around his hand so he didn't lose it gave Jacky a head start down towards deck, but Oxley didn't care. He had the rag safe, which was all that mattered, as he came hand-over-hand back down the stay, arriving on deck a matter of seconds after the younger lad got there and let go of the stay. He grinned across at him. He tried to catch his breath before crossing to the other team.

"No hard feelin's, eh, Jacky?" he said, offering his hand for the other boy to shake.

"You're good, I'll say that, Tom," Jacky replied, shaking with a rueful look on his face.

The boys cheered and gathered around Tom, the former midshipman, stood a bit to the side but he was smiling too. They've won and had a great time. Still the cheers were loud, the boys forgetting perhaps that they were aboard a ship and being their usual selves.

It was a good time, that sort of skylarking. He glanced up to see the sailor who had to wait up through the whole time, easily and quickly descending from the tops.

"That's our Old Tom!" The Shepherds exclaimed, bursting into an impromptu jig.

Branning laughed and pushed through the crowd of boys to heft Jacky Fisher up onto his shoulders. He had made a noble effort and even Branning understood the worth of letting the boy share in the moment.

Oxley grinned as Private Branning pushed through the boys to heft Jacky up onto his shoulders. The others were laughing and cheering and Jacky Fisher seemed just as pleased as any of them. The Shepherds' antics made him chuckle and he grinned at them both. "Couldn't've done it without you, lads," he said. "Or you, Buckles," he said, pulling de Guarde into the group of boys.

From his perch on Branning's shoulders, Jacky Fisher laughed and cheered as the Shepherds grabbed hold of Fingers and Johnny Stenhouse, pulling both into the jig with them.

"Seems a whole group effort," Branning observed, grinned at Oxley and De Guarde. "Ain't seen all you boys together in one spot in ages."

"Ain't bin together in ages. Thought it was 'bout time we had ourselves a right good skylarkin'," Oxley said, grinning as he grabbed the nearest boy to join in with the Shepherds' impromptu jig.

De Guarde found himself grinning as he observed the boys entertain themselves with the jig. He chuckled softly as two more joined in the fray, and general cheers and laughter was heard from the rest of the boys.

The racket from the group of ship's boys couldn't be ignored. Chase had glanced over from time to time while he was working, amused by the unrestrained happiness being displayed, but made no move to join the merriment. Any other time, he would have at least wandered over to ssee the cause for such celebration.

Dyer noticed his distraction and elbowed him. "Ain't you gonna see what all that fuss is about?"

"No." Chase shook his head, then grabbed Dyer's sleeve when the other seaman started to move toward the group. "Leave 'em be, it's their party."

Frowning, Dyer settled back to his work. It was unusual for Chase to turn down the chance to join in a skylarking. Across the deck, there was a fresh outburst of laughter as Jacky Fisher balanced himself upside down on the big Marine Branning's shoulders.

De Guarde blinked in amazement as Jacky was able to pull such a stunt. He glanced at the other boys who looked to have been used to that, though they still cheered and grinned anew. It did look amusing to have a huge marine, such as Branning be stood on. With the ship's boys taking on one side of the ship's crew and the marines taking another it looked as only the adult Tars were missing. The officers no. They were there to come up, regain order and yell a few. But that was hopefully to happen as late as possible, rather than as soon.

He clapped watching Fisher at his antics. He glanced over to the sailors and shifted around the boys that were still dancing, pulling himself onto the railing to see all of the happenings better.

Oxley cheered at Jacky's antics and laughed at de Guarde's reaction to them. It was easy to see he'd never been involved in the sort of fun they were having now. He let go of his partner, who grabbed someone else, and seized de Guarde's hand.

"C'me an' have a bit o' fun, like. Don't just stand there watchin' - join in!" he said.

De Guarde blinked, wide eyed at Oxley. "I .. don't know how to dance like that!" He protested, already on his feet as he'd slipped of the railing. He was flustered, allowing the taller boy to pull him after him. "I really don't Tom." He offered another weak protest. It looked a lot more intimidating than when he'd watched it and the least on his mind was to make a fool of himself even if on the other hand, he'd felt a dragging want to join in too. Just not really gathered up that amount of courage.

"It's all right, just follow me!" Oxley knew the ex-midshipman wouldn't know what to do. "It's only a bit o' fun, like. Ain't nobody goin' to say nothin' 'bout how well you can or can't do it." He grinned as one of the others danced a passable hornpipe, arms folded and feet moving in time to some tune only audible in the lad's head.

"Alright." The boy nodded quickly, his gaze dropping to see what Oxley's feet were doing as a first. He followed, albeit reluctantly. Looking more a stumble than a proper hop, more stiff for sure, he was trying too much and relaxing too little. He blushed , his eyes still on Oxley's feet, trying to copy their exact movements. When he looked up he blinked at one lad doing another odd interpretation without the tune, then turned to do his best to do better. He wondered if Oxley was already regretting pulling him in and exchanging that boy for him.

Oxley grinned. "Shouldn't try so hard. Just... have fun, like. Relax a bit." It seemed the whole foc'sle was alive with dancing, grinning boys, although they did try to keep out of the way of the off-watch sailors who were up on deck enjoying the sun and relaxing in their own ways.

"You'll do fine. You know a bit o' music, don't you? Just... just imagine someone's playin' 'Portsmouth' an' you'll get the rhythm."