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Post by Ladorak on May 10, 2010 23:47:34 GMT -5
"Above yer 'ead." the hedgehog pointed up above him to the hanging equipment that the gun crew would use in battle. There were mostly ramrods with different devices attached. A brutal looking corkscrew that twisted and turned in upon itself. A sponge used for cooling down the gun. Something that looked like an odd shovel, but more like a cup that had been cut into a shovel shape. The regular ramrod...and mops. The mops were mostly used for swabbing the decks after a battle, for if they weren't caked in blood they'd be caked in sawdust, which would be spread out before battles in order to soak up the blood and keep the decks from becoming too slippery.
"Ye most certainly don't 'ave to do that ye know." the Master-at-Arms commented to Elliot. "However, it's nice of you to help. Demonstrated good conduct on your part." Just don't stick up for him too much....if he gets into serious trouble, it'd be best if you stayed out of our way. he didn't add. He was of course hoping this ferret COULD stay out of trouble for the foreseeable future. He hated having to report the kits and striplings. He was a big softy inside when it came down to it, though you'd never know to look at him. When his job required him to be harsh though, he was like a swift brewing tempest. Would fall upon you fast and hard.
Monty, who was still a good few paces away, shrugged. "Merely about jobs for you. I mean I'm not sure if they'd make you a Corporal or not. You'd probably have to have a good understanding of the regulations of the vessel. However....perhaps assisting with training isn't entirely out of the question."
Caden was just coming down the stairs now, humming a tune. He had been whistling earlier, but had suddenly stopped, remembering the old superstition about bringing bad luck to a ship if anyone aside from the Boatswain whistled. So instead he was humming, an old sea shanty he often heard Ladorak singing, or more like mumbling bits of from time to time around the house.
Paddy lay back! Take in your slack! Take a turn around the capstan, heave a pawl! About ship's stations boys be handy! For we're bound for Valparaiso 'round the Horn!
It was a song typically sung by the Marines and Seajacks who'd winch in the anchors and turn the great capstan around and around. Such a ritual could take hours if the anchor was particularly deep, and long, endless shanties were needed to pass the time. This one in particular had a nice bounce to it, and Caden had always enjoyed it when Ladorak had let slip the ditty here and there.
He was walking with a smile upon his features, and his footpaws were perfectly timed. One, two. One, two. One, two. His tail wagged back and forth behind him as well, swaying to the tune he was playing out in his head. He was also rocking his head back and forth a bit, joy evident in his entire frame. He seemed an odd sight, this bubbly albino with a big smile on his face and a tune in his head. His good spirits might have had something to do with that chocolate cake in his arms. Wait until Spender and Elliot could see this!
But his cheer quickly melted like ice cream on a hot day when he noticed the work going on ahead of him....and that smell...was that....vomit? He stopped dead in his tracks, and wrinkled his features up when he saw Spender on all fours sponging up what could only have been his....disgusting work of gastrointestinal adroitness.
Well...there went his sunshine. It had been sucked behind a menacing gray cloud. "Ugh! Gross!" he exclaimed, his tongue splaying out. Could Spender ever be normal for just five minutes? Maybe this cake wasn't the best thing to show off right now....
Turning on his heel, Caden started walking in the opposite direction, towards the stern and the partitioned gunroom. Much more privacy back there, and he wouldn't have to fight down his own stomach because he wouldn't have to look at that lake of puke.
Should he help? Well....maybe in a bit, but it seemed that Elliot was already on that, and besides, Caden really didn't want his appetite ruined at the moment. It was CAKE after all...and CHOCOLATE CAKE at that! He pushed through the canvas curtains, and walked past the cabins on the left and right of him. He skirted a Marine Lieutenant, getting a defensive look when the red coated officer nearly smashed his cake right into his chest.
Heading back to the tiller, the kit placed the cake on top of the slightly swaying beam of wood. So long as they didn't tack or wear, this thing would serve as quite the table! A claw flashed out, and in two licks had sliced through the gooey layers, forming a nice wedge shape that equaled a quarter of the cake's circumference.
Grinning devilishly, the marten retracted his claw and licked his chops. Now....if he could help himself after having this first slice...he'd save the rest for Carrow, Elliot and MAYBE Spender. But only if he could help himself! It WAS chocolate after all!
~~~~~~~~~~~
The mole was the first to speak, his speech a slow drawl from the uplands, but it lacked the typical mole speech of the west, fortunately. "I be Jasper. Armorer's mate...though I guess that's o'vious! Served a few years on land as an apprentice, though this'll be the biggest job I'm taking yet." He hooked a claw at the jill. "She have more experience than I do."
The jill glowered deeper, rising up to her full height, which was just shy of Luxe's. "Birth name is Emmeline....but don't EVER call me that....sir." she stated, in quite the challenging tone. "Means "little rival"....though I'm hardly anything but little. I prefer Zephyr these days." And I've been on ships longer than you have I'm sure she continued silently, her beady eyes fixing Luxe's own and coming to lock gazes with him. She wasn't hostile...mostly more defensive. "Been an Armorer's mate for for five years now." But don't you dare ask me why I've never been promoted. "Haven't made Armorer yet..." she said, and there might have been a trace of bitterness to her tone. "Anyway....I'd be your more experienced of the two mates you have." she hesitated upon seeing his proffered paw. Narrowing her eyes even more, she reluctantly took hold of it, her grasp iron, and pumped it once.
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Post by spender on May 11, 2010 11:46:25 GMT -5
Molly 'hrmed' at the news about the galley. No baking? Well, that would be boring. She supposed they had a good reason for it. Fire at sea was supposedly the worst thing... nobeast had told that to the Imperium, but then again, they didn't have gunpowder stores to worry about.
"I suppose so long as there's something to make, I can help. Something to do for a week, eh?" she said.
She couldn't help but smile at Caden and his cake escapades. Guess it's all his, then. I hope we'll still have dessert after supper. Awful lot of cake for a small beast, though. I hope he doesn't get sick. Molly remembered her first treacle salmon. For the first time in her kithood, she'd been unimpressed by her parents' portrayal of the bog monsters from under the harbour pier (she'd learned a lot under that pier, more than just that bog monsters didn't come from there.) As per holiday tradition, she'd been allowed to stay up as late as she wanted with all the candy she wanted. She'd eaten the entire salmon treacle and then passed out under the kitchen table, having made a mess not unlike the one a deck below...
Clasping Ladorak's arm again, and grinning a bit madder for all his shock, she shook him. "Well, what did he wish for? Tell meeee..."
~ ~ ~
Spender stared. There were... holes in the side of the ship? Well, why hadn't anybeast told him in the first place?
"Don't tell me wot t'do," he snapped, pulling away from Elliot's guiding paw.
Wiping away his tears, he began scrubbing in the other direction, herding the horf towards where he and Elliot had been napping. He glanced up once to make sure his picture book was quite out of the way, and then slapped the sponge against the deck with fervor.
All this action simply served to weaken his stomach further, and he found himself leaning momentarily against the cannon, a little more forcing its way up his throat. It seemed not everything had escaped the first time.
Once he was done hacking, he glared up at the others.
"Don't need no stupid help," he growled, pointing at Elliot. "Don't help me! I can do it my--" another gasping retch "--self."
It was at this point that the ferret's eyes were stolen away from his job. He stared, mouth agape, as Caden passed by with ... cake. Moist, delicious cake. So delicious. So moist. So chocolate... He could smell it over the mess at his footpaws.
"That's not fair!" he blurted. "H'come he gets cake an' I get - get this?!" He threw down the sponge and folded his arms. At a look from the Master at Arms, he immediately picked up the sponge and began the final assault on the cheese-oatmeal troops gathered in Deck's Valley. "I ought t'get cake too, 's not fair... wot'd he do so special?"
Cleaned the dishes! That must be it. It was the only logical thing that Caden had done that none of the other three had. Tomorrow, he would do them, he decided. Or after supper tonight. He couldn't stomach the thought of Caden getting another cake after supper!
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Post by Ladorak on May 11, 2010 20:46:50 GMT -5
"He....he asked me....well didn't ask just wished...that I could be his dad....or da' as he put it." It was indescribable right now, like a great fire burning slowly within him, warming all of his insides and causing a fuzzy feeling to spread like a wave cascading down.
"I....he's NEVER called me that before. Ever. It's been over a year since I've found him and not once have those words left his mouth. I was hoping they would of course but I guess the whole transition took some getting used. To be honest...I never ever expected to hear those words. I still feel as if I'm dreaming...." He trailed off, walking forward now in a bit of a daze. He moved out of the wardroom and onto the gun deck.
Finally coming to his senses, he turned around, a grin plastered on his features. "He FINALLY said it! Ha!" he ran his claws through his headfur, disbelief and pleasure written on his face. "I...I'm sorry." he blinked a few times, refocusing on her. "I guess I just thought that would be the last thing he would wish for. At any rate, why not continue our tour then? Galley is one flight down on the lower gun deck. Let us continue our trek." he offered her his arm again, seeming to get even more handsome now that he was glowing. He looked almost ten years younger, if such a thing were possible. Early twenties, back then they'd first met. It seemed Caden's words had done a wonder for the still young stoat Captain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Slapping the cover of the watch closed, the hedgehog frowned, thinking a moment. "Thirteen minutes. Not bad I suppose. At least you're getting used to swabbing the deck in a timely manner. Very well young ferret....you're free to go." He looked behind him, seeing nothing but the canvas curtains.
"Cake? What's this about cake? I see no cake lad." the Master-at-Arms shook his head. Striplings these days....always conjuring up sweets around every corner. And a CAKE on board? Wouldn't that be something, considering they didn't generally bake things! He hadn't seen Caden disappear behind the curtains into the gunroom, so he naturally just assumed Spender was fantasizing.
Walking over to the nearest gun port, he smirked, tapping it with a claw. "Next time you have to hurl, make sure you do it out of one of these. That means you won't have to clean up after yourself as the sea will take care of that. Now dump that filthy bucket's contents out this here port and hang it back up above your head on one of the hooks. Good job lad. Won't be going in the logbook today." he said, chuckling to himself as he went off.
He suddenly paused though, and turned back to Spender, tapping his starter in his paw. "Oh yes....make sure you say 'sir' from now on. It's only your first day so you're getting used to it...but such an omission in the future will earn you one of these across your back." He held up the thin wooden cane for Spender to gawk at. "Keep that in mind. You're lowest of the low right now...so don't you forget it." Turning away, he moved over to his two Corporals.
"Henley, take the orlop deck. I'm taking the upper gun deck. Clements can stay here on the lower." the two weasels saluted, and Henley moved off to the stairs to make his way one deck down to his post. They would wander about and make sure no regulations were being broken. They had to do this until midnight, when others would take over. It was a long day for the Master-at-Arms and his ilk.
Monty approached now, clearing his throat so the hedgehog would hear him before he wandered off. "Ahem....Master-at-Arms sir. The Right Honorable Montegu Sylver, at your service. I'm traveling as a guest you see, and I would very much like to speak with you." the weasel doffed his cap and presented a leg, knocking his head on the beams slightly when he came back up.
"Ow..." he flinched, earning a snicker from the Master-at-Arms. "Yes well....Jis Talian here was wondering about perhaps working with you. I'm not quite sure if she wants to go for Corporal, but at the very least she'd like to assist in weapons exercises."
"Oh?" the hedgehog asked, raising a brow and looking over at the jill. What was this gentlejack doing on board? He had to be a guest of some sort, but a guest of what purpose? "Is this true then Jis?" he asked, giving her an ear.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Soooooo......good! Caden was working on his slice, eating in the relative privacy of the gunroom. He had briefly gone back out to the gun deck to retrieve a fork from one of the table racks, and was currently giving his taste buds the time of their life.
Still back at the tiller, the marten had moved over to one of the stern chasers, or one of the two cannons facing out the back of the ship. The gun ports back here were closed, but Caden had opened this one up to get some fresh air. Perched with his back to the stern, he was chowing down, practically hidden from the rest of the gunroom by the tiller on his left and the cannon on his right.
Now the big question was...when he was done, would he save the rest for his mates or keep eating? It would all depend on one thing....his ability to resist the chocolate...
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Post by bookity101 on May 12, 2010 11:16:59 GMT -5
El smiled slowly at the hedgehog, shaking her head as she retrieved the mop and quickly did a few drying swipes over the mess, behind Spender’s back of course… no need to upset him any more than he was. And she too had noticed the cake that Caden had been carrying, but unlike Spender, she vaguely remembered that Caden’s birthday was around this time, so she knew, well somewhat, what the cake was for. Hanging the mop up before Spender could notice, she turned to him.
“Hey Spender, I’m going to look around, see if I can find Caden or Carow” She picked up her book, making sure her bookmark was in its place. “Join me if you want to, if not I’ll see you at supper.” With that, ‘he’ left, following the same path she had seen Caden take in his retreat.
El wandered the ship, taking the areas more fully, noting the position of the many different rooms and the like. Mostly she avoided the older beasts, staying out of their way so they could do whatever job they were assigned. And mostly she was doing a good job of it, till she ran into a large brown blob.
‘Oi, Watch it squirt!” El grimaced. She remembered that voice; she glanced up, yep same ferret from earlier.
“Look, I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking, I’ll jus-” El felt her eye’s widen as the much bigger stripling shoved a paw across her mouth.
“Shut up squirt, this is the second time you ran into me..” El grimaced, ‘I was trying to say sorry…’ El narrowed her eye’s, matching his glare. “I’m watching you squirt, so watch your step..” El felt herself being shoved into the hull as the ferret strode rather shakily past, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. ‘Great, I got on the bad side of a bully who likes to drink… wonderful…’
El moved on to the gun deck, wondering if Caden was around. Not seeing him, she decided to poke her head into the gunroom, calling out.
“Hey Caden, you here??” *********** Miri followed Monty over, smiling a little as he bumped his head on the ceiling. Apparently, not everyone had her inborn sense of space. It didn’t hurt that she had been drilled in always knowing her surroundings for months on end. Miri shrugged and nodded to his question saying;
“Yes sir, I would like to help.” Miri allowed a grin to spread on her face. “I have a tendency to go stir crazy if I’m cooped up in one place for to long.” Miri waved a paw around her. “And there is no place that I feel more cooped up than in a cell, or on a ship.” ************ Luxe’s smile widened a bit when he felt her grip. This one knew what she was doing, if the feel of her paw was anything to go by. His brow had quirked at the amount of time she had spent, and the look she shot him when she said it. Zephyr needn’t have worried about him asking about her promotion though, being as new as he was, he didn’t know anything about the normal amount of time to be promoted from Mate to full Armoror, he just appreciated the amount of experience she had.
“Well then,” He brought his paws together with a soft clap. “Jasper, Jis Zephyr,” Luxe had chosen to ignore the challenge in Zephyr’s voice, and had called her ‘Jis’ out of habit.
“Why don’t you too fill me in on what you are most comfortable doing, and we’ll get to work.”
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Post by Ladorak on May 12, 2010 22:40:14 GMT -5
Caden couldn't hear Elle initially at first, mostly because he was all the way at the stern of the ship. The open gun port behind him lent itself to noise, but when he thought he heard a voice calling his name, the marten's big ears perked up. Was that....Elliot?
Standing up hurriedly and threading his way out from between the cannon and the tiller, the albino started heading forward, past the row of six cabins, three on either side of him. Ahead of him, poking "his" head through the canvas curtains, was Elliot. "Elliot!" Caden exclaimed, running forward and trying to usher him out of that area quickly. "Elliot...you're not allowed back here. Here..." he swiftly moved past the curtains and out onto the gun deck proper. "That's the gunroom back there, and it's mostly for the Gunner, the Marine Lieutenants and the officer cadets. If any of the Lieutenants caught you back there...." he trailed off, looking around him. Good...it didn't seem as if any had noticed. At least she'd only poked her head in and not actually gone past the canvas.
"I was just trying to eat my cake back there." he nodded down at the chocolate cake in his arms, pushing his fork down into it and retrieving another piece to feed upon. Stuffing it into his mouth, the marten vigorously chewed. It was evident from the look on his face that he was enjoying it. He waited to swallow before speaking again. "Ladorak gave it to me for my birthday. If you grab a fork, you can have some too. What do you need?" he asked, wondering why the "male" beech had called him out of the gunroom.
It was strange though. Caden was experiencing newer changes in his body everyday as he was hitting stripling age, and he thought...but couldn't be certain....that Elliot smelled...a little different. He couldn't put his claw on what the difference was, and it was faint compared to the scent of that cake, but it was still there. Caden couldn't understand at the moment, so didn't give it much of a second thought for the time being.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Master-at-Arms looked her over. She was lithe and fit, and probably could match with some of the jacks on board. He smiled at her comment. "Well that's typical for being aboard ship. It's a routine day in and day out, broken by landfall and combat. I won't blame ya for wanting to get off as soon as we touch port. Now what I'm curious about..."
He stroked his chin, offering a thoughtful frown. "Such a thing is highly unusual for jills I must admit but....are you actually looking for a Corporal's post or more just along the lines of helping out with weapons training when it's time for that?" the hedgehog began to smile now, indicating the spines underneath his coat. "I have my own built in arsenal ye see, though don't think that's what got me Master-at-Arms. Had to know the regulations inside and out. If it's employment you're seeking....I'll see what I can do, but make no promises." He informed her.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Zephyr released her grip, giving him an indifferent look. He seemed pleased with her strength.....well at least he appreciated something about her...but she didn't trust him all the same. She grated her teeth without opening her mouth when he called her "Jis." Did she LOOK like a proper jill to him?
She wasn't about to talk back to her superior though, so she only clamped her mouth shut tighter and let the mole speak first. "Well...sir. I'm new here, so hoping to learn what there is to know from you. I've only worked on land before this you see, and never owned my own shop. Didn't have the money to start one." he explained a bit glumly. "Taking this job to save up for one though when I do get back and the war ends and all."
Zephyr cleared her throat. "And I well...am proficient with probably anything you can throw at me Armorer....sir. I've served on two different vessels before this one, so I know the ins and outs of Armorer's Mate. Small arms, cannon, anything metal really...it doesn't matter. You won't have to spend much time training me. I'm comfortable working anywhere sir." she answered matter-of-factly.
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Post by bookity101 on May 14, 2010 10:36:37 GMT -5
El grinned and grabbed a fork from a near by, taking a bite from the offered cake. “Thanks Caden,” where “thanks” sounded more like “phanks” because for once, she didn’t worry about proper manners. After all she was a ‘he’ now, on a ship no less. Swallowing, she continued.
“I was bored, I’d been reading aloud to Spender, then he threw up…” ‘Which was really gross….’ She shook her head to clear the memory from her minds eye. “Then I didn’t feel like reading any more and I was wondering what you and Carrow were doing…” El snagged another bite of cake, asking as she did;
“So where is Carrow anyway?” ******** Miri smiled at his arsenal comment. Yes she knew the potential for a hedgehog in a fight… all to well. Miri’s eye’s paled just a bit remembering the time she had fought one of them, she had some out of it looking a bit like a pincushion… Miri shook her head, to clear and in answer to his question.
“I already have an employer, sir.” She waved a paw in the vague direction of Monty, unsure if the Master-at-Arms would catch it or not. Didn’t matter if he did or not, after all she was Monty’s employee, and Monty knew that very well.
“I’m just looking for something to fill time, and I’m fairly certain it would be confining to be assigned to a position on the ship.” She felt her smile fade a little. “I’m a mercenary by trade; I don’t do ‘confined’ very well.” Miri paused for a moment then added,
“But I’m the not type that switches employers by whomever has the bigger purse.” She ran a paw through her hair, which she had in a ponytail rather than a bun for once. “I’m Welkinite by birth, and I won’t go against my country… no matter how much money I'm offered.” Miri’s nose had wrinkled in disgust as she talked. Personally, she thought anybeast who switched based on the purse load, was a spineless idiot. ********
Luxe noted the clenched teeth when he addressed Zephyr, but he couldn’t understand why she did so, but he knew it was something he said.
“Well then, because I am rather new to the sea” Luxe glanced between the two. Jasper was new to this line of work, but Zephyr had years of experience at sea.
“Jis Zephyr, you go ahead and choose what you are most comfortable doing. And if you wouldn’t mind lending a paw with helping Jasper get used to his work, I’d appreciate that.” With that Luxe headed out to find the Master-At-Arms, wanting to check over the small arms on board. They may not have needed checking, but he was not one to leave things to chance. If they were going to be needed soon, they would be in perfect working order. That was a promise that Luxe intended to keep, and he’d do the first check himself, just to get used to stock of weapons kept on board.
Luxe was soon on the lower deck again, looking for the hedgehog he had seen earlier, but seeing the weasel Corporal he approached him.
“Excuse Corporal, would you point me in the direction of the Master-at-Arms?”
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Post by spender on May 14, 2010 11:21:28 GMT -5
Spender hung up the bucket. Phew. Thirteen minutes? Felt like an hour... Somehow, he'd avoided trouble. Somehow, no one had hit him yet. Somehow. The ferret smiled a little bit to himself. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, if he could refrain from getting sick again. Not like school... It wasn't like any of the senior sailors were going to jump him with a math problem, cuff his ear for getting it wrong and then whip his bottom for having dirty claws...
He hoped.
He watched Elliot go after where Caden had vanished to, and decided not to follow. He really wanted to hear the rest of the story, but he didn't trust himself not to punch that white freak of a marten for getting cake and not offering to share. Plus, the thought of eating made him queasy. Things were still wobbling about in his head and stomach. Maybe he could do with a nap...
First, he had to put his book away before it got lost. Having done this, the ferret found himself faced with a dilemma: should he take out his bag of blocks to play with, or should he leave it and go to sleep instead? But he wasn't sleepy, just sick. Maybe blocks would keep his mind off it. Yes. He would take out his toys and find a nice nook between cannons, out of the way... no one would get mad at him.
On the way back, however...
Was that ... Cerinus? Carrow, or whatever his name was? Spender grinned. It was. The mouse was fast asleep! And no Caden around to gang up... Ahh, but there were lots of adults around, and even a few young beasts - Spender saw one ferret almost his age saunter by with a sneer.
Well, he decided, he wouldn't hurt the mouse... today. But he had something special still the same. Waiting until the immediate vicinity was clear, Spender swept his cap off his head and dug out the glob of oatmeal he'd saved from the meal. He knelt and smeared it on the boards beside Carrow. The mouse's whiskers twitched, but he didn't wake. Spender held his breath and finished depositing the mess, then licked his paw clean and stepped away, glancing up and down the deck. Nobeast saw him? Good.
This'd be fun to watch...
A cannon or two down the aisle, Spender nipped in and set down his bag of blocks. Leaning his back against the cannon so he could see down the aisle for when someone found Carrow and the oatmeal-cheese mess, the ferret splayed out his footpaws and began building a little tunnel over his tail.
~ ~ ~
Molly laughed - a bright, careless noise, full of happiness. Oh, for a marten to have a stoat for a father - a stoat who had ferrets for a grandmother, a half-brother, and a nephew! What sort of family was she getting herself involved with? Maybe I should adopt a baby chinchilla...
"Maybe you are dreaming," she said coyly. "Would–" Would you marry me? Her tongue froze in her mouth. "Wouldn't be surprised. I still feel like I haven't woken up this morning..."
She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "Yes, let's continue. I can't get over how different this ship is. I want to see these... steeping tubs." She winked up at him. "Might give me some inspiration, mm? And... thanks, for telling him the cake was from the both of us. Maybe–" Maybe next he'll wish I was his mum...
But the words didn't come, yet again. The stoat jill sighed a little, but it felt like a contented sigh, not one born of the loathing and disappointment she had for herself.
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Post by Carrow on May 14, 2010 13:20:52 GMT -5
One moment, Cerinus was asleep. The next, he had rolled over and felt a horrible stickiness on his fur. The mouse's brown eyes snapped open, and he took a peek about him. What he saw absolutely disgusted him. But then he remembered what he'd seen earlier. A sickening sense of inevitability filled him. He didn't need to seek out the creature who had given him such an awakening. There was only one beast on board who he could think of who would have wanted to get at him in such a way- and furthermore, the rodent had seen said mess of oatmeal before, and this told him it could only have been one creature.
"Fates damn you, Spender," he murmured, burning inside with indignation. If anybeast had been right next to him, they would have seen his eyes glisten with tears once again. He knew that something like this would have to have happened eventually, but it nonetheless pained him terribly. Not only because he had literally been caught napping, but because the bullying ferret's antics had brought certain memories back from his schooldays...
Plastered with the revolting mess, Carrow used a sticky paw to wipe his eyes, though he was too late to to stop some trickling down his cheeks. He really wouldn't have been upset as much by this if he hadn't been made as much of a target in his younger years. As it was, though, he was absolutely devastated. He'd tried to escape all that. He'd been pretty sure he wasn't going to succeed - so used was the poor creature to things constantly going pear-shaped for him - but he hadn't bargained for this. That infuriating creature was out to make his life, and the lives of other beasts, a living hell - and the worst part was that the mustelid got some demented sort of pleasure from it.
Despondent, with drooping whiskers and tail and a lump in his throat, the humiliated wood mouse padded resignedly off, looking for some higher-up or other to explain things too. He knew he'd need to clean the oatmeal-cheese mix up. He didn't care whether the blame was pinned on him or not. He was just at that moment very, very uncertain if he could live with Spender around, and such thoughts were no longer merely fleeting. Why, oh why did things always have to be like this?, he thought. The day'd been going relatively well up to that point, but of course Spender had to throw a spanner in the works.
Despite the fact that he had toughened up a little since signing up for the voyage, the truth was that the Dibbun remained extremely fragile. He wanted to stand up for himself, but it was so hard to, especially after the life he'd had: just one setback after another.
The youngster knew that he was stuck with the ferret, but that didn't trouble him nearly as much as the fact that that trying to reason with the creature was like trying to talk with a brick wall - that really was the worst thing of all.
There must be somebeast around here to lend a paw..., he thought. He'd just had the best hour's sleep of his life, but felt as though there was a sort of weight holding him down now, tiring him out again. He was vulnerable and quite easily reduced to tears, but now he just felt tired of it all. I'm sick of having my spirits crushed, time and time and time again... but then I suppose it's just my lot, Carrow thought dejectedly. He continued on his way, starting to slide into despair once more.
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Post by Ladorak on May 14, 2010 23:09:21 GMT -5
((If anyone is confused.... upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/49/Jibing.svg that's what wearing looks like. Ours was reversed though, as the wind was moving from our right to our left instead of left to right like in this picture. The red arrow is the direction of the wind.)) Ladorak took note of Spender entering the upper gun deck from the lower gun deck, but didn't pay him much mind when Molly seemed to stumble on some of her words. Jerking his head back to her, he gave her a smile. What was this? Unsure of herself about some thing? "Tell me about it." He agreed when she mentioned feeling as if she hadn't woken up this morning. He was moving her to the stairs down to the lower gun deck, taking them slowly as she spoke to him. He loved hearing her speak for some reason, as if her voice itself were music to him, a five string quartet maybe, with a few woodwinds thrown in to boot. She definitely wasn't brass...but what was this? A maybe? "Maybe....?" he asked her, but was suddenly cut off by the cries echoing throughout each deck above, below and right in front of them. The Midshipjacks were charging here and there, making sure that every deck got the message. "Preparing to wear! We're preparing to wear! Make ready! Make ready! Prepare to wear!" This caused Ladorak to pause, but offer Molly a reassuring smile. "Ah! I see the First Lieutenant is preparing to wear us....and no, not like clothing. Wearing is....well hard to explain unless you're familiar with sailing and ship pawdling, but let's say it's a turn executed in which the stern of the ship will pass through the wind. We'll be shifting from a starboard to a larboard tack, so you see how we're leaning to the left at present?" he indicated the lean of the ship to larboard. "That's called heeling. The wind is coming over our starboard side, so it pushes the ship to larboard. However, when we wear, we'll pass our stern through the wind, and the wind will shift over to our larboard side, pushing the ship over to the right, or starboard so...." he slowly slid an arm about her waist, keeping her securely against him. With his free paw he reached up, to the beams overhead, and planted his paw firmly on one of the hooks for the hammocks. "Just hold tight and brace yourself. The lurch from left to right is going to be a little violent, so that's why I'm making sure we won't go flying about. A wear is just a routine turn in order to change course...so I'm guessing Admiral Hood is ordering the entire fleet to wear to adjust our course. Bring us down into the Bay of Biscay would be my guess. Either that or the wind is shifting.....but regardless....get ready. You'll get used to this after awhile...." And so it was. The crew started making themselves ready for the wear, bracing themselves so they wouldn't go tumbling to the starboard side when the ship switched over to a larboard tack. The Master-at-Arms donned his cap, and motioned behind him. "We're about to wear. Brace yourselves, and I must be getting off to my post on the upper gun deck, one flight up. I don't see any problem with your request Jis. I'll speak to you later about this." the hedgehog charged off, throwing a quick salute at the Captain as Ladorak arrived down on the lower gun deck. The Midshipjacks continued to relay the progress of the wear....and then it began. Admiral Hood's orders flapped from the stern of the HMS Victory. "Fleet to wear in formation. Bringing wind to larboard quarter. Commence broad reach on the larboard tack and hold course at completion of wear." The fleet began executing it's turn to larboard, bringing their sterns to the wind. The yards were hauled on, and started to turn the sails over to a larboard tack. The ships began to heel from larboard over to starboard now, and inside the decks tilted from one side to the other as the ships were brought about. "Wear! We're wearing!" Caden exclaimed, trying to remember what that meant. "That's a uh...turn with the stern passing through the wind! We're gonna shift over to a larboard tack so the decks are going to slant the other way...over to starboard! Here...lean against the hull!" fortunately for both of them, they were standing on the starboard side of the ship as it was, so all Caden had to do was press his back against the hull...and he was along for the ride. Instead of being on top of a small hill the starboard side of the deck gradually sank down....down...down....and finally lurched into its final position, slanting downward now instead of up as it just had been. Now the larboard side was up and the starboard side slanting down. "Phew, that was wasn't so bad!" the stripling (for he believed he could call himself this now) breathed, glad his cake hadn't been ruined in the wear. He'd put his back to the hull so there was little chance of the cake getting smashed into anything other than his chest, but that would have only been if he had fallen forward....impossible since the ship had heeled over to starboard. "Carrow?" Caden asked now. "He's uh...sleeping. One deck above us, on the upper gun deck. That's where I last left him at least. Why?" the albino asked now, unaware of the mouse's current plight. The thought occurred to him as well that Carrow probably would have been woken up by the yelling Midshipjacks...though of course that wasn't what had happened. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Ladorak unfastened his paw from the hammock hook and gave Molly another smile as he let her go. "There now...that wasn't so bad was it? I'd say....the wind is off our stern somewhere...larboard quarter probably, which makes this a broad reach. Well that's over and done with. A good fleet can wear with minimal trouble provided it's trained in the act and knows what it's doing. So....where were we? Heading forward to the galley yes?" he had forgotten about her trailing "Maybe...." "So the steep tubs...." He wondered what sort of ideas Molly would get from them. Taking her forward, they passed the rows of guns on either side, approaching a small compartment that had walls on three sides of it close to the bow. A massive, cast iron stove was inside, as were racks and shelves for various types of food, though at present they were all empty, the food having been depleted for dinner. "When mess is piped, the food is brought up from the holds by the Stewards and stored here in the galley. So that's why it's a little empty at present." A pipe ran up from the stove through the ceiling, and would eventually lead to a vent on the forecastle that sent smoke from the cooking out to the open air. Impellers were positioned in the pipe to ensure the smoke made it outside and didn't clog the decks. "These are the steeping tubs...empty right now of course, but normally filled with water to steep or soak the meat and get rid of the preservative salts." he tapped a couple of wooden tubs with his shoe. "So it's a bit private...the side that points to the bow is open, but otherwise you have walls on all three sides. Much smaller than you're used to I bet." he reckoned, backing out a bit to let her get a feel for the place. ~~~~~~~~~~~ The Corporal pointed up above him. "Two decks up, on the upper gun deck sir." He didn't have to salute Luxe because Luxe was an idler, though he did have to address him as "Sir", as Luxe was still a Warrant Officer, and the Corporal weasel was only a Petty Officer, subordinated to the Warrants. "That's where he said he'd be stationed. Upper gun deck sir. Two flights up." the weasel hoped this was enough, and moved off to continue his patrol.
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Post by spender on May 15, 2010 7:32:25 GMT -5
Molly had to chortle at Ladorak's joke about wearing. It was almost, but not quite, in bad taste - ermine pelts were popular in some parts of the world. Of course, given the chance, she'd have her own parents stripped and sold. It wasn't like they were doing anything else with their fur these days. What with being dead.
She clung to him quite happily as the ship tilted around, although she bore the change with grace. (Next time the ship did that, she wanted to try standing in the middle just for the adrenaline rush of staying in place without hanging onto a hook... or handsome hob.)
"Yes," she said, as they investigated the kitchen. "It's... really quite small..." Peering into a steeping tub, she grinned. It looked just big enough to lay in, maybe a little curled up. They reminded her almost of coffins. "I'd say cozy, actually. A nice corner out of the way. I kind of like it. Do these lids have tubs?" She looked up at him, then her eyes crossed. "...do...these... oh! Do these tubs have lids?"
She wanted to kick herself for having such an ermine moment. A few more weeks, she sighed. She always felt better with a brown coat. Molting was such a tiresome process...
She wrinkled her nose as another thought struck her. "The pantry's in the hold? Doesn't food get wet down there?"
~ ~ ~
Darn darn darn! Spender growled at he stuffed his blocks back in the sack. He'd almost finished the tunnel. He'd been hoping to find some bugs to make them run through it and stomp on whatever one came out last, but... It seemed ship life had other things in mind. It seemed everything had to wear things these days. First he'd been put in trousers, and now they were doing what to the ship? He didn't even know.
He glanced up across the aisle and noticed that Carrow had gone, although some of the oatmeal was still smudged on the deck. He grinned at this - then frowned. He'd missed getting to see the look on the mouse's face...
The stripling ferret had just pulled the string to close up his sack of toys when things started going weird. He almost threw up again, but again, had nothing left. He sat down, hoping the feeling would pass, but it didn't. The walls were tilting! The floor was tilting! And -
"Oh, noooooo..." he drawled lethargically, as he was sent rolling across to the other side of the ship, a small furry ferret log in striped slops.
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