topside, Wensday, mid-afternoon

after being relieved from his duty guarding the entrance to the Captains cabin, Dick would make his way forward out of the way, before siting on an over turned bucket, taking a wad of chewing tobacco from his tobacco pouch he would place it between his teeth and his right cheek. That done the marine would begin to strip and clean the lock of his musket, occasionally pausing to spit a stream of tobacco stained saliva over the side, careful not to let a drop hit the deck

Of all the places aboard ship, the foc's'le was indisputably the best for any man wishing to work on his kit without interruption. Branning laid out his red coat and crossbelts before opening the cloth sack that contained the necessary supplies to mend and clean both items.

He was not the only Marine to think of using the foc's'le to look after his kit, either. Dick Brown appeared with his musket, which he began breaking down to clean almost as soon as he arrived.

"Hullo there, Dick," Branning greeted as he tried again to re-thread his sewing needle.

Dick would look up from his musket as he pauses in his work of trying to pin the main spring back with a nail, he grins as he sees branning.

"hello Tom, taking the old coat in for a more rakish look perhaps?"

He would look back towards his musket his tongue sticking out slightly as he manages to finally pin back the main spring before picking up a rag and continuing to wipe down the inner workings of his musket.

Finally! Branning fumbled with the end of the thread for a moment before he managed to tie it off in a knot.

"Rakish...?" He had to think about that for a moment. "No, not today. Ain't got enough thread to take it any good bit."

He glanced at Brown's broken-down musket and grinned. "Finally giving the old girl a polish, eh?"

he smirks and cuckles before pulling out a small metal tin of greese, opening it he used his finger to work a large dab of it into the main spring and inner workings.

"aye, the salt and damp plays havic on the old girl, got to keep her ship shape, wouldn't want the old girl failing on me when there are Frogs about now would I?"

He looks over at te jacket and grins. "Too bad, I here tight and rakish is all the rave with the most stylish of officers." he winks.

"Officers got they own style, aye. But it don't look right on lads what gotta wear all this kit," Branning said wisely.

He grinned. " 'Sides, don't gotta have a painted-on coat t'be perfect!"

He chuckles "aye, there is that. I still don't know how wearing breeches that tight is comfortable, must be all painful around the equator, if you know what I mean?" he winks.

"So tell me Tom, is Terpsy your first ship or have you served else where?" he would ask, as he begins to grease up each piece of the inner workings before slowly putting the musket lock back together, and then sending a stream of tobacco spittle out over the side of the ship.

Branning grimaced. "Mebbe that's 'cause they ain't got nothin' in their equator."

He started to work closing up the separation in the seam of his coat sleeve, but paused when Brown asked about his past service. "I been in ol' Billy Ruff'n for a couple year," Branning replied. "Spent a bit of time in Swift brig too. And Sparrow sloop too. I miss Billy Ruff'n, she were a right noble ol' girl."

With a shrug, he slipped his needle up through the red wool. "What 'bout you?"

He blinks and looks at Branning "I thought you looked familiar I was ten years in old Billy Ruff'n served in her at the Nile and Trafalgar, damn near died in the last one. was briefly on the Bedford after the battle for the trip to Lisbon but they figured it were best if I were to plant my feet ashore for a spell until I was ship shape once more, been serving as guard for admiral ashore ever since."

He shakes his head "Tis a damn shame those damn Don's and Frogs hurt her so bad, the Terpsy seems like a good ship but she won't ever be no Billy Ruff'n to me."

Having replaced the face plate her would bring the musket to his shoulder, pull back on the dog head and pull the trigger the head falling to the frizan pan with a "clack" and a spark.

Ten years with Billy Ruff'n? The lucky sod!

"I were there with her at Trafalgar, but they put me ashore after," Branning said. "There was a lot of lads damn near died in that one."

But to get stuck being an admiral's guard? The very idea made him shudder. "Aye, Terpsy's all right, being she's a frigate an' all. But she's got some guts to her. 'Sides," he added with a grin, "ain't so easy to go chasin' quick after a Frog in a third-rate!"

He seems to think this over for a few moments before nodding slowly. "aye well there is that, I've heard frigate duels can be quite lively however to me nothing can compare to the line of battle, being in the thick of a fleet battle."

He set the musket aside for the moment, pulling out another small rag and a small metal container from his pocket, he then opens it revealing beeswax which he began rubbing into the stock of the musket bringing out a shine in the wood.

"Though, don't get me wrong, I'm happy as a all hell to have my feet back on a moving deck, let the bloody bullocks stick to the land tis no permanent job for marine."

"That they is." Branning shrugged slightly and paused in his work to study the line of stitches in his coat sleeve. "I've got used to bein' in a frigate, I s'pose. Better chances fer prize money, anyhow."

Which was not say that he didn't miss Billy Ruff'n or two little ships he'd been on after leaving the third-rate, though. But Terpsichore was his home now and he'd become rather fond of her.

"Aye," he added, "nothin' better'n bein' at sea again, sure. How long was you ashore?"

He pauses in his polishing and nods slightly at the mention of prize money. "aye there is that...though we did make a pretty penny after Trafalgar and I didn't do to badly after the Nile either, but a few more coins to rub together wouldn't do me too badly" He grins.

He sighs and starts polishing the butt with extra gusto. "would you believe close on two damn years, all that time in view of the harbor but no transfer to any of them beauties floating out there."

True, true. Branning still had part of his own share from Trafalgar, safely stowed away at his brother's rooms in London. It would be needed when he finally got back to England at the end of this commission.

"Two years?" Branning shook his head. "Too bloody long for any lad to be stranded ashore." He'd been stuck ashore for a few months himself after Trafalgar, but that was nothing when set against two years. Poor Dick!

"aye twas almost enough to make a poor man ponder running, thank the good lord he saw fit to have me transfered back out to sea before that thought festered too long." He shook his head and went back to polishing.

"Think we'll see any action again soon?"

Branning could well understand how being ashore for that long might make a lad consider legging it.

"Dunno," he answered, "but there's a Frog frigate roamin' about out there that wants needs dealin' with. Somethin' to hope for, anyhow!"

He nods at that "I hope we catch her and she don't make a run for it, theres damn good prize and head money in a frigate I hear told"

"Aye, that's so," Branning told him. "I jus' hopes we get her 'fore any other ship does. That Frog's the one that came lurkin' about when Doctor Crozier was ashore for his surg'ry. 'Member?"


(OOC - Crozier's Operation thread, for reference.)

"aye, I remember now, though we owe the bugger for taking a runner on us bloody cowards"

Branning shook his head. "Glad she did, though. We wasn't havin' a good time of it ashore, y'know!"

But who could've expected Frog marines to turn up while they were gathering firewood? He thought of poor Billy Barrow and sighed. They should've stood and fought those bastards back, instead of leading them right back to the boat.

"True there is that... though the way I heard it the anchor was cut without much of a broadside"

They should have given those Frog Marines a what for, they were only Frogs after all, no steel in their bellies for a hard fight.

"Maybe so, but the cap'n's cox'n took a ball in his lungs an' there was a couple other lads wounded besides. Couldn't stand an' fight too long either, for havin' Doctor Matter-in with us too."

Branning shrugged and worked the needle through the coat sleeve a few times. How he'd ever managed to tear the seam was quite beyond him.

"Aye I suppose your right Tom, just don't like the idea of running from frogs is all, tis a hard bite to swallow."

He set his musket aside and spat another stream of tobacco juice out over the side and watched branning sow.

"what was it you did Tom before you put on the red coat?"

Before the red coat? Branning had to think about that.

"I was a shoe-black," he answered after a moment's recollection. "Down around Covent Garden."