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Post by Ladorak on Apr 17, 2010 23:22:06 GMT -5
The badger Lieutenant wrinkled his snout. Really? Their own pain medicine? That would indicate this recruit's family was well off....and if that were the case, what was this young kit doing in the Navy? If they were wealthy enough to afford their pain medication, why would they send a kit so young into the Navy? The Navy was a method of getting rich over the years....not a method of relieving boredom in a rich family.
Shaking his head, he shrugged. "Suit yourself." He couldn't order them down there unless he saw something physically wrong, and that jill didn't seem to be a part of the regular crew anyway...which made the whole thing irregular. He was turning on his heel when something caught his eye. "Hey!" he shouted at Spender, who was perched on the gunwale. "Back to work!" he gave the ferret a dark look, and turned the names of the kits over in his mind. Who was this lad.....something with a C right? Ciel something or other...the Rosferian. "Aren't you supposed to be down three decks with the Stewards? Was pretty sure I saw your name in connection with them."
He tapped his foot, then grumbled. "Ah forget it. Must be close to dinner time by now anyway. Just make sure you report to your station when you're back on duty." He shook his head, and walked off. Sure enough....a bell was struck, and the crew on duty dropped what they were doing and began heading for the companionway.
*********
The order had come from Captain Fugate. A voice had interrupted his thoughts. "Hey! You! What are you doing loafing around up here?" The First Lieutenant had spied Carrow, standing off by himself, seemingly inactive. The stoat Captain turned, and noticed the youth.
"Ah it's alright...he's supposed to be training under the Quartermaster and his mates...though he's NOT supposed to be just standing there." the stoat's eyes narrowed slightly behind his spectacles. The Third Lieutenant struck the bell on deck, indicating it was noon. It broke Ladorak's chain of thought as he looked over to Quilliam. "Signal for dinner Mr. Quilliam." the Lieutenant nodded, and passed the orders on to the trumpeter, who promptly sang the notes off on his horn, informing the crew it was time for dinner.
Ladorak took the time to slowly approach the mouse. "Don't be so afraid to approach the wheel next time. You're supposed to be working under the Quartermaster, so it's not like you lack permission to go up and speak with him. Go and have your dinner...and enjoy your leisure time after." the Captain spoke with a firm but understanding voice. He wasn't going to be harsh on the lad's first day....he was brand new after all...a cobbled shoe that hadn't even been fitted to the sole yet. It wasn't in Ladorak's nature to dish out particularly harsh punishments anyway....though he would if the need called for it.
He gave Carrow a brief smile so that only he could see before he turned back to Molly. "I'll be dining with you in my personal dining room. I'll skip the wardroom until tonight...for supper. I have something special planned for supper anyway. Join me then Jis Serra?" he once more offered her his arm. At least they didn't have far to walk...it was just straight back to his private quarters.
************
Caden's stomach rumbled at the sound of the trumpet. About time! Dinner! The Boatswain looked down at him, and waved him off. "Ach, dinner time. Go and enjoy your meal master Fugate, and your off time afterward. The Starboard watch takes over from here on out." Yep! They were off duty from noon until 5 PM. Five hours of free time! Five whole hours! Their First Dog Watch would begin at five..but that was five hours away. Grinning, the marten trotted down to the main deck, heading for the companionway. Mess was eaten two decks below, on the lower gun deck.
The upper gun deck wasn't used, as that's where the wardroom was and Officers always dined alone. The regular crew messed on the lower gun deck, where all the tables were currently being lowered from their suspended position in the ceiling to down in between each cannon. Each table was called a "mess", and contained generally four crew apiece. They would eat together for the rest of their time at sea....although once a month the Captain allowed the crew to change their mess if they weren't happy with it, but only on a certain day each month, and never more than once a month. Today was obviously not that day.
The marten proceeded down the two flights of stairs to the lower gun deck, the smell of food already fumigating the place and fighting back the stench of the bilge. He started to make his way forward, toward the bow of the ship, as that's where the small galley was tucked away. The galley was really just a very small enclosed area directly behind the foremast where the stove was located as well as the steep tub. The steep tub would be where the meat was soaked or "steeped" was what they called it beforepaw in order to get the preserving salts off before it was thrown into the huge boiling vat of water that sufficed as the stove. The meat was cooked and then served to the crew on plates along with cheese, oatmeal, bread, and sometimes vegetables, depending on how long they had been at sea. Dinner was also one of two times you could choose between having rum or beer instead of just water to drink. Supper was the other time that alcohol was served. Breakfast of course was kept to strictly water.
Walking past the various cannon on either side of him, Caden tried to pick out a table that was free so that all four of them could sit down. They had already formed a mess.....so they should be guaranteed a table at least. Down here in the gun deck it was a noisy, hubbub of a place as crew walked every which way, some to get in line for their food and others to sit down. The bilge smell vied with the smell of fresh food for attention, but overall the food was winning. The gunports were kept open, as they weren't in rough seas and it was nice to be able to watch the waters glide by while one ate.
Standing in line, Caden could see he'd have to a wait a bit before he'd get to the galley. There were two lines, one each side of the gun deck, and he stood in the starboard line. He looked behind him, hoping his companions would be down here so he could at least have someone to talk to as he waited on his food. They had an hour for dinner, from noon until 1, so plenty of time to get served before eating time ended.
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Post by Carrow on Apr 18, 2010 5:02:13 GMT -5
Carrow's face flushed with embarrassment as the First Lieutenant caught him idling, and he sniffed a little, sighing. Another mistake of his he could put down to his shyness. Damn it... where was all this timidness appearing from again?!
The mouse shuffled his paws nervously, and was about to venture a reply when he heard the unmistakeable voice of that good stoat Captain. He kept his gaze on the deck for a moment, then he overcame his bashful nature and brought his eyes up to meet the mustelid's gaze - well, at least from a distance.
"Er, s-sorry sir..." His voice carried the slightest catch of a stammer. The rodent was one of those creatures whose nerves showed quite easily when he was anxious about something. He'd have to try get over that too... but he'd probably need help of some kind. Once again, he remembered what Archie had told him.
Great seasons, had it only been this morning that he had left?! So much had happened since then, and the pace at which things were moving made his head spin. The youngster soon snapped out of his reverie, though, and continued speaking. "H-hope you can f-forgive me for that, sir... w-won't happen again, I s-swear."
Ladorak's response reassured him, and he returned the Captain's smile with a brief one of his own. He'd been trembling a little as he'd been spoken to, but that stopped as soon as the stoat had finished speaking. He'd learn from this, and the next time he had the opportunity to approach the Quartermaster, he'd take it. Ladroak wasn't going to punish him for this mishap, that much was clear - and hopefully, as far as this was concerned at least, he wouldn't need to.
The Dibbun long-tailed field mouse padded off down to the mess hall, passing the companionway before taking the two flights of stairs down. He was doing relatively well already, but told himself he had to take opportunities like the one he had just missed. The youngster was on quite the learning curve now it seemed.
He started his approach to the galley, the smell of food filling his nostrils (and thankfully cancelling out the stench of the bilgewater) as he passed the cannon. His eyes swept the room as he searched for a table. Then the familiar sight of a white-furred pine marten caught his eye, and he headed for the starboard line.
Cerinus got in behind Caden, tapping him gently on the back (as it would have been more trouble than it was worth for him to try the mustelid's shoulder), murmuring, in that distinctive, high-pitched voice of his, "Hello Caden!"
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Post by spender on Apr 18, 2010 8:03:52 GMT -5
Quite possibly the only reason Spender didn't musk himself again was that he had put on Mario's Tanooki Suit beneath his slops and had pressed 'down' and 'B' upon sighting the badger, although curiously enough his statue form did not carry a staff.
Spender sighed when the Lieutenant shuffled off. Thank the fates! Off the hook again. He was just one lucky ferret. But what the heck was he going to be doing with Stewards three decks below? No one had told him to go anywhere! ... had they?
Well, he couldn't be bothered now. It was time to eat!
"Hey," he said, slipping off the gunwale and tapping Elliot's arm. "Time t'eat. 'Course," he added, "you don't get to..." He grinned at the beech marten's expression. "Jus' kiddin'! Hey, that wos somethin' up there. You're one crazy critter."
Maybe he was just feeling lucky, or maybe it was the stress talking, but Spender found himself rather warming up to Elliot. Unlike Caden or Cerinus, the beech marten hadn't actively tried to bully him in return, despite their run-in that first day of training. There was the added bonus that Elliot was neither a freak of nature nor a rodent; Spender had been raised to only consider a select group of species as his equals. Things were different in Welkin, of course, but he still remembered his kithood bedtime stories of bloodthirsty badgers and genocidal mice...
"Elwin, 's your name, right? Race you to th'food place!"
With that, the ferret blasted off.
~ ~ ~
"It would be my pleasure to, Captain," Molly giggled, taking his arm. "Such a privilege I would be foolish to pass up. Oh, also... I know you took care of this earlier, but where might I find my luggage? I'd packed a bottle of wine... I'd been saving it since I left the Imperium. I don't know, would it be alright to open it now?"
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Post by Ladorak on Apr 18, 2010 12:50:15 GMT -5
"Now would be a superb time to open that bottle. As a matter of fact....don't worry about running out. Officers get their choice of wine for dinner and supper, so even if we polish off this bottle, we'll have plenty more where that comes from." he took her paw in his own, gazing down at her as he moved toward the stern and his quarters. The entire stern of the vessel was left to them...his dining room, sleep chamber, and cabin.
Such a thing could only encourage a jack, and he pawed off command to the First Lieutenant, whose turn it was to stand watch while the Captain dined. Moving past the Marine sentries, Ladorak Fugate was soon out of sight with that ravishing jill on his arm, and wouldn't re-emerge until after meal time had ended. The mainsails would need to be set then, but that was up to the Starboard watch, as Larboard watch went onto leisure time after dinner.
***********
It was a common misconception that food on board a jack-of-war was rotten. Generally the press had picked up on one or two incidents and stereotyped it for the entire Navy. By and large the food was edible, and rarely had weevils and maggots crawling around inside of it. If the ship spent more than two months at sea then you would start to taste very dry meat, incredibly hard bread and stale cheese, but preservation methods by and large were not as bad as the public made it out to be.
Truth be told, beasts in the Navy ate far better than the average beasts on land did, and had far more of a balanced diet than said land beasts. The food only got bad if the ship was at sea for months at a time, but even then, conscientious captains like Ladorak would ensure that supply ships almost always resupplied their vessels as often as possible, to keep the food nice and fresh and to offer more variety to the crew. The Agamemnon was no exception to this, and as she'd just left port, she had the freshest of the fresh aboard. Indeed, most sailors were agreeably surprised when they stepped aboard ship at the quality of the food. The Captain of course dined the best, with a very broad choice of meats at his disposal, as well as wine. The Officers under him ate just about as good, and the crew had the most basic but still healthy menu.
The crew were encouraged to drink water only on the main deck, at the scuttlebutts. At mealtimes, beer, rum, or water was offered, but most of the crew was urged to drink alcohol, as the drinking water on board a ship would either run out after a month at sea, or go bad after said month, and unless they got a lot of rain in order to collect more, water was the scarcest of drinks aboard a jack-of-war. Beer was the quickest to go behind water, as it didn't last as long and went stale after about two months in storage. Rum however was the strong point of any warship, as you could let centuries pass and all of the Black Forest to freeze over before you could come back, open up a cask of the rum you had left behind hundreds of years hence (provided you lived that long), and it would still be as good as the day you stored it.
Drunkeness was a serious offense however, and was normally punished by flogging. To prevent inebriation, the alcohol was watered down to an extent, but it was still alcohol all the same...just much less potent than you would find on land. If a crew member was still unable to tolerate this mixture, then he was asked instead to simply choose water as his main drink, and avoid the alcohol ration altogether. However, there was an exception. If the seajack wasn't on duty after their meal....such as Caden, Elliot, Spender and Carrow were, then it was OK to get a little "tipsy" so to speak, but only if they didn't break any regulations while doing so. Drunkeness on duty was absolutely not tolerated, but on leisure time it was permissible, so long as no damage was done or rules were broken. One, in other words, walked a very fine line with the rum and beer ration.
The way the ration worked, on one last note on that, was that the crew member also had a choice as to when he could receive it. He could take a half pint at dinner, and another half pint at supper, or, conversely, he could not take any ration at all during dinner, and then have an entire pint for supper. However he wanted to divide his pint up was his choice. A whole pint at dinner and none at supper was another option, and the Stewards kept a close eye on which crew member received what in order to ensure that no more than a pint was dished out to individuals over the course of the day.
As it was, Caden found himself drawing closer to the front of the line, and felt someone tapping his shoulder. Turning about, he grinned when he saw Carrow, though the mouse seemed to be a bit out of sorts for some reason. "Hey Carrow! You managed to get behind me...great! Say...where's Elliot though? And...Spender not to mention." His pink eyes kept scanning the stairs, waiting for mostly Elliot to appear. Had something happened back on deck? He bit his lip now when his fellow marten failed to appear in either of the lines...at least at first.
"How's your day been so far?" he added on, getting closer to the stove. The smoke was piped out onto the main deck two decks up, through a slinky black vent. "Has everything been OK?" he asked frowning a bit when he saw the look on Carrow's face. Was everything alright?
"Whatche want?" Caden didn't hear the voice at first, or it didn't register that he was being spoken too, but then a sharp jab in his back got him to turn around.
"Agh! Hey what's the....oh...sorry." he muttered, not realizing he was at the front of the line. The cook had jabbed him in the ribs with his wooden spoon, and the marten rubbed his side as he looked over everything. There was the cook, who, contrary to what most believed was not in fact a prestigious chef but rather an older crew member who had lost a limb in combat, and seeing as how there was no real place in the crew anymore for such a beast, was given the honorary post of "cook" in order to give him something to do. Their only real duty was to steep the meat and then boil it before pawing it out. The Stewards assisted him with everything else.
Sure enough, Caden could see that this fellow was indeed crippled. He was a rat, probably about four times Caden's age, with a thick wooden peg sticking out from his left knee on down, and a black eye patch resting over his right eye. Disabled veteran indeed....but at least he had a job and a way to support himself. His fur was black on white, monochrome, and was graying with age. He scowled, but he wasn't aggressive. Probably just bored. "Ye got pork or beef, take yer pick."
"Um....I will go with....beef please." Caden said, thinking about it a second or so.
"Very well." the cook scooped his ladle down into the stove and fished around for a chunk of beef. Withdrawing it from the vat, he placed it upon a wooden plate and pawed the plate over to Caden. "Move along. 'ow about you?" the rat asked Carrow. "Beef or pork?" Caden moved down the line a bit further to where the diligent Purser stood. Part of the Purser's job was to ensure that no crew member took more than he should, or else his numbers would be off and the whole thing would be blamed on him and come out of his paycheck. Thus, he and his underlings, the Stewards, had all the more reason to be extra careful when keeping watch on the crew during mess.
"Would you like some oatmeal?" the ferret Purser asked him.
"Yes please. I'll take some." he was handed a bowl of prepared oats, and moved off further down the line. A Steward was ahead of him, next to three large barrels, one of rum, one of beer, and one of water. The Steward held up a ladle of peas, and also a slab of cheese.
"Cheese and peas?"
"Sure." Caden nodded, and got dished some peas onto his plate, as well as the slice of cheese. The Steward also pawed him some bread. Wow...full meal. That was the benefit of having just left port.
"Now then...ye want rum, water, or beer? Ye can take a full pint of alcohol now, but ye won't get any for supper, or take half a pint now, half a pint at supper, or save it all for a pint at supper. Yer choice."
Here it was...the moment he'd been dreading. Caden's stomach formed a knot, one that didn't sit well with him. Ladorak had told him his mother had been a drunk....a very bad one at that. Alcohol...the forbidden drink. He was only 12 yet...he was permitted to partake legally of this stuff now. He'd always wanted to try it....like a deep thirst that needed to be quenched from somewhere within him. But he'd resisted too...every time Ladorak had offered him a drink, even just a sip, he'd turned it down. The liquid in the barrels swirled a bit before him.....hypnotic in its own right.
He felt his knees shaking, and his curiosity overcoming him as he stared down into the tub of rum. "I'll take....rum." he said slowly, as if dreaming. His curiosity overpowered everything else. What was it about this stuff that had ruined his mother? He blinked, realizing what he'd just said. Wait! But it was too late, the Steward had pawed him a half a pint of rum, and he was stuck with it now.
Gulping, he moved off to the side, waiting for Carrow to catch up with him so that they could pick out a table for themselves and form their mess.
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Post by bookity101 on Apr 18, 2010 15:29:43 GMT -5
Miri led El towards the steps. "You have a mess to eat with don't you kit?" El glanced up at Miri, who was leading 'him' by his good arm. "Yes Ma'-" El held up a paw "I am Miri, not 'Ma'am'" She shook her head "I hate being called Ma'am, makes me feel old." El smiled slowly. "Ok Miri, thanks for helping me, I can get to my friends from here." 'He pointed "There just down the steps." Waving good bye to Miri, El trotted over towards the steps where she met up with Spender, wincing as he touched her sore arm.
"Umm it's actually Eli-" El stopped mid-sentence, then smiled. "Hey! No way am I gonna lose!" El pounded the deck after Spender, finding it odd that the ferret would be friendly at , to anyone. El had always been quick on her feet, and more sturdy pawed than most beasts, and now that her sea legs had finally kicked in, she managed to catch up with the older Spender, cutting in front of him at the door to the steps, but was thrown off balance by an especially strong swell, which allowed Spender to take the steps first. ****
Miri shook her head as she watched the two kits run off towards the hatch. She followed them down, at a much more sedate pace.
El and Miri got in line just after one another, allowing Miri to keep an eye on the wounded one, and for El to meet up with Spender, tapping him on the shoulder. "Hey, you know only beat me because I slipped, don't you?"
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Post by Carrow on Apr 18, 2010 16:07:07 GMT -5
"'ve no idea... haven't seen tail nor whisker of either since we got the call to set sail...," Cerinus murmured in response to his pine marten friend's query. He shuffled his paws in an awkward manner, gulping slightly.
"Has everything been okay, you ask? Hmm, well, I'd much rather I sit down before I answer things properly, but, er, yes and no." The rodent gave such a vague reply as he didn't have time to go into detail here in the line, being jostled every now and then by the creature behind him.
The young rodent was in fact a little shaken by what had transpired earlier. It had been completely his own fault, and he knew that as well as anybeast, but he was concerned nonetheless, as there was no way he should have been that nervous... that skittish.
Further conversation was cut short by the mustelid's cry of alarm. Another reason why I don't want to talk, he thought, chuckling a little to himself. Caden had soon gone on to get his other food, and Carrow padded up to take his place at the front of the line. "Move along. 'ow about you?" the rat cook asked his fellow rodent. "Beef or pork?"
Giving it some thought, as both options definitely appealed to him, the moue soon had his answer ready. He went for his preferred option. "Er... beef, please," he told the cook. His beef was soon on a plate before him. "'ere you go." The wood mouse nodded his thanks, and spotted Caden had moved on further down to the Sreward. So next was the... Purser. Right.
"Would you like some oatmeal?." the Purser asked Cerinus once he'd reached him. Carrow shook his head, replying, "No thank you, sir," before moving on. Oatmeal had never exactly sat well with him, so he decided to give it a miss this time around.
Then he moved on to the Steward beside the three barrels. "Cheese and peas?," he was asked, and "Both, please" was his response. He put both onto his plate, smiling at the relatively large wedge of cheese he had procured. Being a mouse, he was predisposed to being fond of cheese... whenever he could get it.
"Rum, water or beer? If'n you go with alcohol, son, you have three options: full pint now, none for supper; half-pint now, half-pint for supper; or none now, but a pint at supper." He flashed the long-tailed field mouse the smallest of smiles. "What's it to be?"
"Neither, thank you. I'll pass." He'd never had a drink in his young life, and even though it was legal for him to start doing so now, he was unsure how he would be affected by alcohol. Better to be sober and safe, than be drunk and sorry, he thought. He just couldn't take that risk.
Caden was finished now. The Dibbun could see his albino friend waiting for him, and he smiled as the two met up again. "Right then. That's that settled. I'm all for sitting down as soon as I can, I reckon."
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Post by spender on Apr 18, 2010 22:26:41 GMT -5
"Hey, you know only beat me because I slipped, don't you?"
"Pfft, right," Spender snorted. "Only a sore loser blames 'is lack of skill on somethin' like that."
Contrary to Spender's own opinions on his speed, most of his run had been more in the form of a waddle. He wasn't fat, but there were a lot of parts of his body that definitely weren't made out of muscle. The ship, too, was affecting him, although subtly at the moment. He hadn't spent enough time below decks to really get a feel for the movements, and above decks, where his brain could make sense of the movements in relation to the rest of the world, had mostly been spent scurrying around ratlines, which swayed in the wind anyhow.
Spender butted his way into the line and went through the motions of getting food. Upon spotting oatmeal, he denied either choice of meat. He blanched at the peas, and asked for a bigger helping of cheese. And, of course, he went for the entire pint of beer.
He sat down, studiously ignoring Caden and Carrow, and began shredding his cheese with his claws, mixing it into the oatmeal, mashing it in with his spoon. He hummed as he worked the food, and then, taking a pawful of the mixture, swept his cap off and deposited the blob inside. He jammed it back on his head and grinned.
"Savin' that'n fer later," he said. He took another glob of cheese-oatmeal and dipped his paw into his pint before eating. "Mmmmm..."
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Post by Ladorak on Apr 18, 2010 23:56:59 GMT -5
Caden found an empty table on the starboard side and set his plate down, noticing that above him was a rack for wooden forks, knives, and spoons. Convenient. Reaching up, he took his utensils down and set to work. The term "four square meals a day" originated from the ship's mess because the plates they were eating off of were square, and thus started a saying that would endure more than three hundred years later.
Caden didn't touch the rum just yet. It was in a wooden mug, and he gazed down at it ruefully. He about nearly gagged on his meat however when Spender stuck the cheese both in his cap and in his oatmeal....what was...how was.....gross!
He fought to keep himself from throwing up, and swallowed heavily, blinking. "Yeah....well...uh...." but he was at a total loss for words. What could he say to something like that?
It was with some relief that he saw Elliot show up. Good....at least "he" wasn't in trouble or missing. Caden did his best to NOT look at Spender as he ate, instead trying to keep his pink eyes directly on his plate. He occasionally glanced at the open gunport behind him, watching the sea pass by beneath them. Carrying them over the vast blue expanse....what was Elle doing now? Was she looking at the fleet departing on the horizon? He was a bit sad that she hadn't showed up to see him off but.....he couldn't necessarily effect that.
The Purser strode into the middle of the gun deck after all beasts were sitting. The Corporals wandered up and down the deck, checking for any breaking of regulations, the hawk like gazes wandering the tables and keeping a sharp lookout.
"'HEM!" the ferret cleared his throat, calling for attention. "h'alright! Your attention please!" Some crew kept talking, but by and large they started falling silent as they one by one noticed the Purser. "Quite a busy line that was right? Right! So from now on, to avoid long lines and crowds and waiting forever to get your food, the Navy has devised a little process that you will all abide by in the future. From now on ONE of you and only one of you will be appointed 'mess cook' as we call it, and their job is to come up during mess and take the food back to the table for the rest of their messmates based on their food orders. Their job will also be to clean the utensils after mess is over and stow them back in the racks above head. This person must be responsible as they'll have to partly remember who had what alcohol ration throughout the course of the day as guess what? They'll be shepherding the alcohol back to the table as well. So go ahead and appoint your mess cook. It can change each week or stay permanent, however you want it. That will avoid clutter, long wait lines, and make things so much easier the next e 'round, yes?"
The Purser gave what might be called a condescending smile before he walked back over to his station to paw out the last of the rations to those stragglers who were streaming in.
Caden dipped his spoon into his oatmeal, turning it around and swirling it before raising it to his lips and slurping it in. Not bad. The cheese was fresh too, making it quite palatable. He glanced up, looking at his messmates, his pink eyes going from Spender (quickly averting themselves) over to Carrow and then to Elliot. "So....uh...I could volunteer for that. I don't mind doing it and cleaning up afterward." Caden wasn't fully sure for his own motives in this. Maybe because he was aiming for an Officer post someday he wanted to start acting responsibly and proving himself in his surroundings....or maybe something else entirely.
That rum stared up at him, and he stared down at it briefly. No...no..not yet. I'm not ready yet. I'll eat a bit more...then try it. He sawed at his beef, noting it had a slightly salty taste to it due to being preserved with of all things salt, but it wasn't terribly noticeable. Just enough to slip by on his senses. He worked on this now as he waited for his companions' responses.
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Post by Carrow on Apr 19, 2010 7:55:06 GMT -5
Cerinus, too, had to really fight the urge to throw up when he glimpsed Spender's absolutely revolting display. My word, he thought, how old is he again? Because he certainly isn't acting his age. In fact, the ferret's desperate plea for attention was quite quickly ignored by the wood mouse.
It had almost made him lose his lunch... but then again he was absolutely famished. He hadn't touched a thing at breakfast earlier that day due to his nerves, but even though they still remained, his appetite won out. He cut into his beef with a smile and an anticipatory lick of his lips.
Then he heard the Purser speak. Mess cook, eh? Well, that sounded like some kind of responsiblility he could definitely pawdle. Caden was the first to speak. The rodent wasn't surprised the pine marten was volunteering. After all, he seemed quite diligent.
"You'd want to try this out then, mate?," he responded. "Well, I suppose I could give it a whirl too sometime. We won't be appointing a permanent one just yet. Maybe pass the position around each week? How's that suit, guys?," he asked his three companions.
He then remembered that there was something he needed to speak to Caden about, but he obviously wasn't ggoing to here, especially not with Spender around. So, the long-tailed field mouse Dibbun leaned over and spoke in his softest whisper into Caden's ear. "Could I have a word with you later on, privately if you don't mind?"
There was definitely something the mouse needed to get off his chest - well, at the very least, one thing - and he felt that Caden was the only one he could really confide in at the moment.
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Post by Ladorak on Apr 19, 2010 23:20:11 GMT -5
Caden gave a small smile, accepting the fact that Carrow wanted to try mess cook as well. Caden had no intention of hogging it to himself after all. "Sure Carrow, I'll let you have it the second week out then. And we can figure out who takes it from there. Either back to me or maybe Elliot." He purposely didn't say Spender, because he figured the ferret wouldn't have any desire to wash plates.
It was with some surprise when Carrow leaned over and whispered into his sizable ears. His pink eyes widened a bit, and he looked at Carrow out of the corner of his eye, leaning in himself in order to hear him over the din of the mess. Privately? A word with him? What was this about?
Pulling back when the mouse was done, Caden nodded in a serious fashion. "Uh sure Carrow....we've got some leisure time after this, so maybe during that." He glanced down at the rum again. Urk.....could he really go through with this?
But that urge rose up within him again, and even the fresh air blowing in the from the gun ports and splashing his face couldn't quench that desire. Raising the mug nonchalantly to his lips, the marten tipped it up and let the liquid flow into his mouth. It coursed over his tongue, rolling into the back of his mouth and down his throat. He closed his eyes, cringing as he waited for the inevitable but wait...you didn't get drunk off of one sip silly.
Smacking his lips, the albino reopened his eyes. Sweet.....sugary really...though it definitely had a bitter flavor to it as well. Swallowing, he felt it traveling down his esophagus and toward his stomach. OK.....so that was his first sip of what hopefully wouldn't turn into an addiction for him. His mother had been addicted...quite severely he'd been told. Not bad though...it didn't make his mouth sing as he'd expected it to, but it wasn't bad.
He took another gulp, washing some of that slightly salty taste from the beef out of his mouth. Moving over to his food, he ate some peas, and more of his cheese. His teeth weren't naturally disposed for plants, but he knew a lack of certain vegetables might help fight off disease if he ever got sick. Ehhh....he wasn't necessarily used to this. He could eat fruits OK but vegetables? Did he even need it as part of his diet? Probably not. He'd wanted to try it out, but he wasn't sure if he'd be coming back to it. It was something more along Carrow's line.
The cheese and oatmeal however he could get used to. "I think we can meet up during our off time when mess is over." he finished, glad that the worst fear of the rum was behind him, for now at any rate.
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