On Stormy Seas

Subject: On Stormy Seas Fri Dec 07, 2012 5:31 pm

Captain Arthur Kirkland stood on the bow of his ship, gazing boredly at the white-capped sea that seemed to mock him with its eternity. A glance at the clouded sky told him a storm was brewing, and he quickly barked an order to his crew to batten hatches and tie the sails lest his mast be destroyed by a wild gust. The Black Rose was a strong sea-bird, but even she wouldn't stand up to the wicked sea-winds of the Atlantic's storms unless they played it safe and made use of every hand to ensure her weathering the gale. It'd been awhile since they'd last hit land, after all, and awhile till they would again. Sinking out in the middle of the ocean was simply not an option, especially when many of Arthur's men couldn't swim, including (though he outright refused to admit it) the Captain himself.

He strode to the fo'c's'le, taking hold of the polished brass spyglass kept there, and held it to his eye. Ahh, yes. Storm clouds indeed, nigh two degrees off starboard bow. "Two marks off starboard bow!" he shouted, and distantly heard it repeated towards the stern. The sails would need to be tied; with the storm so close, there was no time to sail around it, and they couldn't risk being blown back or worse, having their mast broken. Blasted weather. But his crew had been through many a storm, and most had survived. Arthur had confidence in his crew to pass through this one mostly unscathed. He was surprised the man in the crow's nest hadn't spotted it first, but a glance upward told him the man was nowhere to be found. Lazy arse.

A voice regained his attention deckward, and Kirkland turned to look at the crewman who had called his name. The boy was scrawny, but spry, and the Captain barked at him to secure leaks in the hold; they didn't want anything springing open during the squall. The young man nodded and ran off below deck. Arthur watched him go for a moment, then returned his attention to the dark clouds moving in. He braced himself, and seemed to count... then all at once, the skies opened and steely rain slashed through the sky to shoot the deck.

Guest

Matthew always hated storms. They were bad enough on the land but on ship, it was pure torture and he could never, ever understand how some people found them exciting and claimed that sailing on the stormy, rough sea was the true essence of real piracy, battling against nature, laughing in her face as you emerge victorious from each and every peril...

If this was the true essence of piracy, Matthew was not impressed.

Currently, the ship was swaying roughly, tossing him around in his tiny cabin, scattering old maps, all of his equipment and generally making a giant mess out of everything. Water was sneaking in through under the door and through the small cracks in the wooden walls and he long ago gave up trying to block it; it was useless. He stacked whatever he could as far away from the water as possible, the precious maps very fragile (ink and paper were not very water-proof and with all the innovations in sailing, no one actually thought of updating that), going as far as to give them his bed and cover with blankets, tying it all with ropes and belts and clothes just so it would stay still.

He could hear the captain barking orders to change navigation and groaned. It was hard enough to keep up with navigating with the winds tossing the ship all around, he didnt need people messing with it. And who would take the blame if things went wrong? He would, of course. 'Oh, Navigator, we were supposed to hit land two days ago, whats up?', 'Oh, navigator, this isnt the island we were looking for'.

The box with his navigation equipment fell off the shelf, the contents spilling all over him and Matthew stood up, annoyed, swaying towards the door. He was useless on the deck but by Dieu, at least he would let the arrogant arse of a captain know if he was going to change the course like that, he could navigate himself. "No, not two marks off!" he yelled, marching towards the figure with the largest hat. "We're not supposed to go two marks off! I told you we need to stay on the course!"

Subject: Re: On Stormy Seas Sat Dec 08, 2012 4:17 am

Arthur turned at the voice, a bit surprised by its volume given the usually soft-spoken source. He growled as the navigator stormed up to him, not amused by the outburst.

"Don't be daft, boy," he yelled over the noise of the wind, "If we don't change course she'll sail straight through the worst of the storm! Mizzenmast won't stand a bloody chance in that wind. At least if we move two marks we might survive." As though to prove his point, a gust ripped through and threatened to topple those on the deck; the Captain braced himself and skidded a little on the wet wood, somehow managing to right himself but removing his hat lest it be blown over.

"Look. You can fuss with the navigation again after we've made it through this storm. Until then, shut your trap and allow your captain to make sure we've got a ship to navigate," he growled, before bellowing again towards the ladder that led below deck "Two marks off starboard bow! Man the rudder!"

Guest

"WE might survive and then we might starve, stranded in the middle of this ocean, with no land in sight for months!" Matthew countered; he knew Arthur had a very good point but at the same time he knew he had a very good point too and he wasnt going to just back down because if Arthur wanted to change directions so randomly, go ahead, but then dont take it out on the navigator when his random choices miraculously wont produce the desired effect. And Matthew knew just who would become the scapegoat of the Captain's decisions; he would have Arthur breathing down his neck as if he was to blame for no land appearing in sight for yet another day.

"If youre going to change direction and expect me to navigate for you later, have the decency to inform me and not just yell out orders counting on me to hear them-" he finally started to say, figuring a compromise would be the best solution here - the best he could hope for, anyway, and really, Arthur, he'd gladly fuss about navigation later and now just hide it out in his cabin, how about tomorrow at afternoon tea, would that be a good time to fuss over it? Cause its not like navigation was something you had to constantly watch over, it could be moved to a more convenient date, no problem.

Of course he knew better than to say that.

Besides, as he was busy speaking, the gust blown over the two of them and Matthew lost his balance, feet uselessly sliding over the wet wood, unable to stand on the uneven surface; he flailed his arms comically for a moment before another sharp tug of the ship shattered whatever remains of balance he had left and he fell ungracefully right on his behind, groaning at the discomfort and glaring at the Captain who got to witness the whole performance. It felt quite humiliating and Matthew had to bite back the remark that yea, thats what happens when you leave navigation to fuss over later - but that was unfair, the storm was bad and he knew it.

He grimaced as he realized his glasses fell off too, skidding over the wet wood, disappearing among the rain and sea water that washed over the deck. Everything was even more fuzzy than usually now but given the current weather, its not like glasses helped much. Arthur was a blur and he'd stay a blur until Matthew got back to his cabin with spare glasses, which might as well wait. "At least let me stay here." he huffed, scrambling to his feet carefully. "I need to be aware of whatever other decisions you make about the direction."

Subject: Re: On Stormy Seas Sat Jan 19, 2013 7:10 pm

Arthur scowled at the navigator, frustrated with is arrogant insolence. He was by no means the captain of this vessel, and so would not act like it under any circumstances. Glowering, he pulled the boy closer by the front of his shirt and growled, very slowly and clearly but very, very loud, "Then allow me to inform you now, Williams. We are moving two marks off starboard bow so that when we are ready to resume course, we will have a ship with which to stay upon it!"

He released the boy not a moment before a particularly strong gust of wind whipped through the decks, knocking Matthew off his feet and onto the slippery wood. The captain managed to steady himself somehow, sighing as the navigator struggled to his feet. Something glinted by his left boot, and Arthur bent to retrieve it. Glasses. Shoving them at their owner, he began to walk past him toward the stern to help with ropes. "Fine," he barked in response to the haughty request, "So long as you make yourself useful instead of squawking at me in such a way." He paused to smirk over his shoulder at the navigator, "You might even learn something about navigation."

Oh my god I am so sorry this post is so late and short and failtacular aaaaagh...

Guest

Matthew placed his glasses back on and glared defiantly, annoyed when he felt a hint of gratitude towards the captain for returning them so easily. "Thank you, o gracious leader. I'll be sure to implement today's lessons to my current strategy of, you know, randomly guessing which way to go. Obviously it was pure dumb luck we managed to find the land we were looking for almost every damn time." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and irony. And under normal circumstances he'd be horrified at himself, his manners and words; later he would be kicking himself repeatedly (in a purely metaphorical fashion, of course) for letting his anger get the best of him. But now, the ship was rocking violently, people were running, slipping, shouting all around him, he was being shaken and pushed around by wind, water, other bodies and adrenaline was pumping through his veins, loud and ruthless, fueling his annoyance and taking control over him.

He almost wished the ship would crash. Then, he swore vehemently, then he'd laugh in the captain's face, consequences be damned and he'd tell him 'I told you so' until his voice was hoarse and gone.

And yea, he wasnt the best navigator out there, fair enough. So what? Given his age, he was already plenty good. You cant expect a boy his age to be the master of all navigators, it just didnt happen. He wasnt going to be ashamed of his imperfections and lack of certain... skills. He tried his best, he kept improving and honestly, that mattered the most.

One of the sailors tossed him a line and he grabbed at it, barely maintaining an upright position when it tensed and tried to slip out of his grip, even if it meant pulling his body along. Two marks off starboard... he made a mental note, repeating the four words a few times to make sure he got it right. He heard a loud snap and couldnt see what happened because of the rain but given the shouts of some men, he concluded that it wasnt anything good. His glasses kept sliding off, down the bridge of his nose, down the wet skin... any moment and hed lose them again. Merde.

(( D'awwww, I dont think so at all! If anything, I fail XD" Im sorry for bugging you, I'll get new topics going soon so you wont be pressured to update this one so often...

Subject: Re: On Stormy Seas Fri Feb 08, 2013 6:10 pm

Captain Kirkland growled to himself against the roaring wind as he strode toward the stern, casting aside his frustration in regards to his navigator's unusually haughty attitude. By rights he ought to send the boy adrift in a rowboat set for the original course, and see how well he "navigated" back to the ship after the storm, if he even made it through. Of course, that would put him without a navigator, and while Williams was currently acting as though he did not answer to the Captain, Arthur could not afford to lose him. He was a competent navigator, his age and occasional rebellion aside. Kirkland couldn't help but smile a little to himself. Williams reminded Arthur of himself a bit, he supposed. But now was not the time for such thoughts, endearing though they were. He grasped a rope firmly in calloused hands and pulled, managing with the help of one of his deckhands to secure it to a tieoff.

No sooner had he noticed the fray in the rope than a loud snap sounded, and Kirkland and the deckhand dove out of the way of the heavy topgallant sail fluttering fast toward them in the wicked wind. He roared for his crew to get out of its way, the call carried on the gale away from him, but not quite reaching one of the crew. Bloody hell, he was going to kill that blasted navigator! "Get DOWN, you fool!" he barked as he pulled the young man by his shirt away from the heavy sail and its wooden poles that crashed deckward where Williams had just stood. "For a navigator, you've got a knack for not looking where the hell you are going," he growled over the wind. "Just get back below deck. I've got a ship to save."

Guest

Matthew was busy trying to see and keep holding onto that bloody piece of string like he was supposed to, apparently, thankyouverymuch, when there was more shouting (but its not like that was anything new, there was shouting and more shouting all the time, often even without the storm raging around and he couldnt even make out more than few words and how was he even supposed to know which one was directed to him) and he felt a firm yank on his shirt, which sent him stumbling backwards, the oh-so-familiar voice snapping at him and a rope went flying just before his face and what the hell.

The next words he heard, once he actually focused on listening to the captian and ignoring the overall shouting and scrambling and excuse him for not fluent in 'grown men yelling like baboons one over another'. But the captain's words did spark a hint of embarrassment; yes, he shouldve been more careful and alert, probably. But the thing was, he didnt know such things happened; how could he know? He never worked with things like that, he was a navigator, his job description didnt include watching out for snapping ropes. He navigated and he helped out in the kitchen and he could mope the deck and carry things that needed to be carried (he was surprisingly strong for his scrawny frame) but he never actually had to do things like this. "You were the one who told me to make myself useful!" he replied, loud enough for the other to kill. "You know, for a captain, you change your mind far too often!" And oh he just might get flogged a bit for that one. Not too much. Just a bit, probably. But it was a storm and everyone was agitated and stupid Kirkland was going to mock and make fun of him when he wouldnt be able to locate the land.

Stupid hoser of a captain.

Hoser or not, though, an order was an order and frankly, Matthew had enough. He tried to tell Captain Kirkland that perhaps going off the course without consulting your navigator might not be a good idea and he got all drenched, jostled around, almost lost his glasses and had a rope smash into his face for his troubles and enough was enough. He glared at Arthur one last time and then all but stomped towards the entrance to the below deck area, taking care not to slip too much. He would pass the time daydreaming about a quiet life on the land, a small house, a small garden and beautiful men surrounding him, on his beck and call (forbidden, sinful, wrong, wrong, wrong fantasy but too tempting to resist and its not like he didnt try to think of women, he tried but he couldnt and then he gave up).

Below the deck it was and when Arthur gets lost and they all starve or eat each other or something, maybe then hed finally learn a lesson that navigation is serious business indeed.

(( Gyaaah this post is so so crappy Im sorry its just, Ive been a bit busy and distracted lately)

Subject: Re: On Stormy Seas Wed Mar 27, 2013 10:34 pm

Putting in a little bit of a timeskip here ^^'

It was hours before sunlight finally streamed in glorious rays through the clouds, as though God himself had decided to give the crew of the Black Rose a reprieve from the storm. Swearing under his breath, Arthur shed his dripping coat. A shivery sort of breeze wafted its way through the ship's decks, chilling the Captain though such a breeze might normally relax him. Nonetheless, he breathed deep the sunshine and the wind that brought with it a light scent of green.

Green?

Green meant land. Land meant Port. Port meant that perhaps they'd somehow wound up precisely where they had been headed. Unable to contain his curiosity (and perhaps a little glimmer of hope), Arthur rushed to the side of the deck and peered out over the ship's side.

His face fell immediately into a scowl. This was wrong, all wrong. The green scent was deceptive, led Arthur's nose to believe what his eyes proved terribly incorrect. It was not the port that greeted his tired eyes, but a pristine white beach, glinting mockingly at him.

"Cap'n?" a voice called his attention. He wheeled to face its owner. "She's run aground, Cap'n. There's damage to the hull."

".....Well, fuck."

Guest

Matthew wisely stayed below the deck all the time while the storm outside raged and tried not to think how tough it would be for him to find their current location and navigate to the nearest port and how hed be blamed for not being able to do the impossible. The other crew members hidden there, the very few who couldnt help outside, mostly ignored him, not so much out of spite but more like because it was easy to forget and overlook the boy hunched down in the dark corner, squeezed between boxes so that he wouldnt end up flailing all around each time the ship gave a violent jerk.

He slipped into a sleepy daze, only partly aware of what was going on and it took him a moment to realize that all the noise, all the shaking stopped and everything was now still and quiet. He jerked awake, eyes looking around wildly; he was alone and... and were those birds he heard?

The short moment of elation at the discovery - birds meant land, land meant safety - was quickly tampered down by reality. Those werent seagulls. Those were actual land-birds which yes, meant there was a land nearby but it also meant that the land was not inhabited by people, at least not anywhere nearby. Such birds resided in trees, and trees didnt grow for long with humans around.

Best case scenario: They were simply a bit away from a human settlement.Worst case? They were stranded on some unknown islands, like there were thousands of them in the world and probably many more to discover. And Matthew could perhaps estimate on the basis of plants and animals where they ended up but there was no way he could say exactly and design a good route to the nearest port. Not to mention he didnt know the damage to the ship which might be so excessive that they wouldnt be able to fix it without human technology.

He thought about all of this as he was standing up, stretching his sore legs and wincing at the familiar prickling that followed. Once he was sure he could move properly, he went outside, squinting at the bright sunlight and taking his time to let his eyes get used to it before he ventured out. The view wasnt very optimistic; as far as he could tell, there were no signs of any people anywhere in sight. His damp clothes were starting to itch and he made another promise that the very next time they get to a port - if they get there - he was going to run for it and never set his feet on a ship again.

He promised that to himself thousands of times before. He never followed up.

He wandered around, hearing various men exchange their observations which mostly seemed just as grim as Matthew's thoughts and then he spotted the Captain, talking to someone and looking generally pissed off at the whole world. It was a dumb idea to annoy him now and Matthew felt too drained and uncomfortable to even try. "Captain? Can I get a permission to go ashore? I cant help much here and Id like to see if I can more or less estimate where we are." Well, his first priority would be to find a clean stream and wash himself off and maybe some fresh fruit if he found any familiar ones but hey, he could multitask.

Subject: Re: On Stormy Seas Fri May 03, 2013 4:22 pm

Arthur's mood worsened with each word the crewman spoke, the furrow between his eyebrows only deepening. "Yes, I understand that, you dolt, how much damage has she suffered?" He only rolled his eyes as the young man said they hadn't yet seen how much. "Well, you'd best be the first one down to shore to look, then, and the first one out to gather supplies to repair her!" he barked, his fists clenched with the effort of not simply punching the crewman out of rage at the situation.

A quieter voice just barely caught his attention, and he wheeled on its source, glaring daggers at the navigator who had a hand in getting him into this mess. "What." he demanded, his frown only deepening at the request. It would be useful for the boy to look and see where in the world they were…. Especially since he was the one who'd need to figure out a way to get them back to civilization. They needed supplies, badly, and quite a few of their crew had been lost in the storm. "Fine," he ground out in answer, "It's not like you'll be of any use with repairs…." he muttered, eyeing the other's skinny frame. "Go on then, and report back to me by sundown at the latest."

It seemed they'd probably be staying here awhile… At least there were fish in the shallows, and there might be fruits and edible vegetation they could eat on the island.

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