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| Victoria's Secrets | |
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| Topic Started: 15 Dec 2009, 11:35 PM (764 Views) | |
| Frederick St Montgomery | 15 Dec 2009, 11:35 PM Post #1 |
Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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St Montgomery was roused from entertaining himself with the assistance of thoughts of the errant governor's daughter, when an increase of shouting and noise on the deck interrupted his concentration. At first he resolved to simply ignore it in favour in favour of the delightful terror-filled eyes, but the entire effect was spoiled by men shouting. Pissed off, he swung out of his hammock after doing himself up, and he made his way to his door grumbling. He opened it and fixed the marine sentry with a glare. "Find out what the hell is going on up there, I'm busy and wish not to be disturbed by inconsequential noise, if you please!" He slammed the door shut, not waiting for any answer and hobbled over to his writing desk and pulled out a stack of letters, shuffling through the one which had confirmed his rank. When thoughts like before weren't enough to do the trick, this one usually did. He had considered procuring a frame and hanging it up, but finally rejected that course of action admitting that it might show too much concern for the opinion of his, not truly that, superiours. A hesitant knock at the door, and one barked "Yes!" later, he was now in possession of the knowledge that a boat was coming aside, and some of the new crew were to be transferred about. This was certainly good news. One of his first actions upon becoming admiral, beyond vowing that he would find a way to demote or hang (preferably the latter) Norrington's lapdog Gillette (who had so graciously now provided him with an excuse, should he ever show his face again in Jamaica), was to mix up the crew compliments of all the vessels in Port Royale, and to switch many in Kingston. It was best to break up all those groupings of mutineers now, and prevent another tragedy. A tragedy, he lamented, that was easily preventable had Norrington simply followed his own advice prior to the mutiny. The fact that he had never spoken such advice to his then-superiour officer, not even though upon it until after the mutiny did little to change his opinion on the matter. Facts were an inconvenience at best. He leaned back in his chair, and dropped the letter back into the desk. There would be little time for that now. He'd give the new officers at most five minutes to come and make themselves known to him. Any more than that, and there would be harsh punishments. After all, what else was he to amuse himself with, now that that tart Lynette was off in Port Royale? |
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| Tobias Bailey | 16 Dec 2009, 12:06 AM Post #2 |
Ordinary Seaman
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Almost there. Almost up. Almost on deck. Well all those almosts soon became a solved certainties. From nearing the ship, to coming alongside her, to hearing the chaos that reigned above, to beginning to climb the ladder, all went quickly and smoothly. He did not need to observe his chest being lifted from the boat nor worry that he would be flunk or slip into the water. He knew his ropes, he was not attentive when classes were in session, but when he was to lay his hands on the job, he was fairly efficient. Not that Bailey needed to do much. The other midshipman seemed, as before, to have it all under control and the Tars were hurrying with evident want to have things done fast. There was no fire that he could see, else he would've thought that this was the reason for such urgency. Compared to his old, he could already spot differences that were unrelated to the cut of the ship's jib or the curve of her sides. Above him a seagull passed caring less about the men than it would if the ship was a fishing sort. A splat on the railing though allowed a speculation if such was the opinion of the bird of what it had seen or rather just bad luck for any unfortunate man or boy, who would happen to place their hand there in a short time. If the bird was lucky a lieutenant would've found himself leaning to see better and in such grasping where no man should if they would not like to be unpleasantly surprised. Tobias straightened up and adjusted the angle of his hat, pulling at the coat's ends to straighten it. It rode up a little when he had his hands reaching up while climbing. The shirt and vest would do. They were neatly covered by the far too thick wool and lay beneath the long line of buttons. It took them about seven or eight minutes, through which the young lad observed with mild curiosity the securing of the boat. He'd seen it done before, but it would never have hurt to see it again. As Slater had gone to say earlier, it sounded like the finest idea that they should report first. To an officer of the watch, was the initial idea, all until they were informed to see the captain. Took them another three minutes for that, and to cross the distance that would have taken them to the door of the king's lair. With a bite at his lip Bailey reached forward and knocked ,then stood back studying one of the red coated marines. Tall, imposing and sour-faced. Felt like that man swallowed a whole bucket of lemons, which were now popping back up. He grinned at the image. Pop goes a lemon, and there another one. Would they have come out whole on the other end if he'd have gulped them whole? |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 28 Dec 2009, 05:13 PM Post #3 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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Five minutes, five minutes, five minutes...after about three, St Montgomery decided to hell with giving them a chance to prove themselves, better off that they were scared straight from right off the bat. More efficient that way, since he would eventually end up having to yell at them. Take a hard stance now, and then he wouldn't have to spend time fixing misconception that had taken root that they were His Majesty's Coddling Service. He wasn't any of these young middies' father. Well...most likely he was not. There was still that small chance... He sat at his desk and awaited the knock. When it did come he had already rehearsed in his several times what he was going to say. The minimum number of words and expressions necessary to scare the new lads into messing up their breeches. "Enter!" He barked and turned in his chair to observe who entered. First in was, in his opinion a rather unimpressive midshipman. Hopefully the first part of that first impression was wrong, for first impressions were indeed the most important to St Montgomery. Namely, they allowed him to figure out where on his list they would land, for they were undoubtedly even at this point, either for him, or against him. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 28 Dec 2009, 07:54 PM Post #4 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Enter!" A deep voice boomed from behind the thick and heavy wooden doors. Bailey's expression looked somewhat less cheerful. It didn't sound like an officer glad to welcome new brood to his company. A lone bird flew above, made a sharp cry dove and quickly disappeared into the depths of the sea. He didn't see it reappear, mostly as he was just entering when it had gone. He made a quick glance around the room, taking in each little detail, from where the table had been standing, to what sort of a mess was on its surface, from how much light came into the cabin, how well the windows were and where positioned to finally the man himself. It felt eerily silent, given he should perhaps have introduced himself early, right after he'd stopped a few feet from St. Montgomery. "Sir." He began, disturbing the pleasant silence - well it was as silent as it can ever get on a ship which might necessarily not be as quiet as on land in the middle of the night even. "...Midshipman Tobias Bailey." He cleared his throat. He shouldn't have seemed as distracted, not even with his curiosity believing to take an upper hand in this. "..new....newly arrived, sir." Again he was silent and blinked. It downed on him then, what he was forgetting and he quickly reached into his coat and produced the package of papers, the sort that spoke of his past service, any sort of comments by his earlier captain and similar. He held it out towards the man, hoping he would take it. "Come to..."He paused. "Serve aboard this fine vessel." He felt uncomfortable, though he knew not why. Just the way this man looked, and the way he held himself, was it only that? Or also what he had learnt? |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 29 Dec 2009, 06:34 PM Post #5 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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The midshipman sounded nervous, the way he was on about clearing his throat and stumbling over his words. His least expectation of the boys was that they were at least able to speak, and knew where the head was, and could make it there on time. He expected more of them of course, unwavering obedience, the ability to read his mind and cater to his whims and unexpected mood swings, but so few managed that. No, it was better if they could meet those bare minimums, one which the lad was close to not passing. St Montgomery reached out and accepted the package, ripping it open like a man long at sea might rip the laces of a woman's bodice, and he stood from his chair looking at the papers without acknowledging that the boy even spoke. It was a test. To see if he could stay still and silent, or if he would crack under the pressure as the minutes passed by and nothing was said by his new captain. His new Admiral. God, how St Montgomery loved that title. He looked over the papers, frowning as he read them, making sure to shake his head and make unencouraging noises. He walked back to his cabin window and looked out towards the docks and Kingston. He dropped his hand holding the notes and let it rest against his hip as he turned to regard Mr Bailey. "I would hope, Mr Bailey, that a young gentleman such as yourself sets a higher bar here than your previous posting. You are serving on the flag ship of the Caribbean, and more importantly, you are serving under me. I will tolerate no childish antics as seem to be the curse of your rank, I expect discipline, punctuality, courage, and professionalism." He turned to face the midshipman. "Gossip is as rampant in the fleet as the pox, and I am not deaf to what is said about me as many think. Let me assure you now that if you do your duty, and you never even think of associating yourself with known mutinous factions, then there shall never be problems between us. For rumours are true about one thing, my ire is one thing you never wish to experience." |
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| Tobias Bailey | 29 Dec 2009, 08:32 PM Post #6 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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The man sure looked eager. He'd tore out at the package to read from the papers inside, nearly as if his life depended on it. It was without doubt not the life of the Admiral though, but rather that of his new midshipman. It took Bailey a few moments to realise that St. Montgomery, was not listening to him at all. he was taking his sweet time to read though, making a few grunts and sounds that were meant to make any young lad nervous and worried that he was met with disapproval. He did feel his throat turning quite dry and his tongue feel as if it had been weighed down by a pair of cannon balls. Easy now, he told himself then, without moving his lips. Patience wasn't one of his virtues but he could atleast busy himself and distract himself with the sight of the cabin. Have his eyes a bit of a free reign to see what was what. He could take on a dutiful expression, surely! He took a silent deep breath and eased the tension that his muscles seemed to have begun on their own. He would not fidget. He had to give the Admiral as much time as he needed. One good impression might set his name in the right books, a bad one might make his life utterly miserable. Admiral or not, any man impressed would act better than unimpressed. He did not nod, though the urge was to do so to confirm his thoughts. Instead he stilled himself, gazed ahead a bit like a marine, he mused at that, like a puppet, better so, and waited. Not fidgety, not moving, not even looking as if he was bored or worried or trembling. He could have all those emotions come out at a later time but now he would do his best to look as a midshipman.. a man .. should. He lifted his eyes a little as he heard the Admiral speak. Still a bit lower than the eyes of the man when turned, showing humility and respect and hoping that it would be understood as such. "I would hope, Mr Bailey, that a young gentleman such as yourself sets a higher bar here than your previous posting. You are serving on the flag ship of the Caribbean, and more importantly, you are serving under me. I will tolerate no childish antics as seem to be the curse of your rank, I expect discipline, punctuality, courage, and professionalism." The back of his head felt much nicer to see than his face, though that delight lasted for not much longer. St. Montgomery turned and he stiffened to attention, giving a short, curt nod to what he'd just heard said. No childish antics? No, no of course not. None that he'd be caught doing, that is! Inwardly he smiled. "Gossip is as rampant in the fleet as the pox, and I am not deaf to what is said about me as many think. Let me assure you now that if you do your duty, and you never even think of associating yourself with known mutinous factions, then there shall never be problems between us. For rumours are true about one thing, my ire is one thing you never wish to experience." "Yes sir." He dared speak, hoping his voice sounded confident, though not bold. He cursed the fact he hadn't chosen to practice with his fellows before. He could have done so much better if he knew to pretend as well as his old friend Brown. Now that was a midshipman who knew how to play any role. No wonder he'd been the star of a little play that the midshipmen once made and presented to the greater audience. "It will be an honour to serve under you, sir." He spoke, careful of his speech. Pronounce it well, try to keep any sort of accent from your talk, he kept warning himself. Talk like a gentleman! Show you've listened, and don't be cocky on your first day! He could at last proudly say he didn't stumble over any of those words like he had before. Perhaps the long time of silence actually helped him. |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 2 Jan 2010, 07:57 PM Post #7 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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"It will be an honour to serve under you, sir." St Montgomery gave a strained smile, "Indeed it is." He looked over the midshipmen fully, weighing whether or not the lad would be any useful. Appearances were often deceiving, but they gave an expectation to measure performances against. Locking eyes with the midshipmen he was sure that he had his full attention, which meant now was the time to impart the most important information for all newcomers of the fleet. "One thing I wish to impress upon you, before you start, is that if anything ever seems out of place, or a mutinous suggestion is made, even if only in jest, I am to be informed of it immediately." He moved to his desk and picked up a glass and poured himself something to drink, swallowing quickly before he continued. "Unfortunately the previous Admiral made a poor choice when it came to choosing the man in charge of the Port Royale squadron, and as a result a good number of the men onboard these vessels are to be found sorely lacking in discipline and work ethic. When you receive your men, you are to ensure that they overcome this...unfortunately ingrained habit. "What I suppose is truly unfortunate is that these same qualities are found in many of the officers, which may well include some of your superiours. If you discover them to be mutinous, or of that quality, then you should come and inform me immediately. For those who inform me of such things in the Navy shall have the satisfaction of knowing they have done their duty, and will be recommended for advancement. Men who are in my favour, and that does include young gentlemen such as yourself, are also my favoured dining companions." He finished of the glass with a last gulp. "Any questions?" |
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| Tobias Bailey | 3 Jan 2010, 02:01 PM Post #8 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"One thing I wish to impress upon you, before you start, is that if anything ever seems out of place, or a mutinous suggestion is made, even if only in jest, I am to be informed of it immediately." Bailey dropped his gaze somewhat, but he was still listening to the man. Jest was something he did not consider mutinous even if the content could have been. If he thought back, he was warned about this and felt some secrecy be had that warned him that the Admiral was far less than he was thought to be. He could not bring himself to speak of it though. It was spoken in good faith and this man, though powerful, would not be the one with whom he would spend the next decade with. He gulped down a bit of saliva and shifted on the spot. His leg was beginning to ache and he felt even more hot than he had, when leaving his ship to enter the port. "Unfortunately the previous Admiral made a poor choice when it came to choosing the man in charge of the Port Royale squadron, and as a result a good number of the men onboard these vessels are to be found sorely lacking in discipline and work ethic. When you receive your men, you are to ensure that they overcome this...unfortunately ingrained habit. He did not feel to be the right address to have something of the sort confided in him. It felt that it could instill doubt in his superiors and that no midshipman could afford. The officers of higher rank were to be gods to them or at the very least people they wished to be like. Not the people they would hold in distrust and think in adequate for the service. What his subordinates were concerned though, he felt his chest swell as he stood more errect. Those he would made full sure to train into men of great valour, work etic and skill. .... if he did not get distracted or bored with them or want to finish the book of questionable content that he'd brought with him. The book itself carried a nice cover that would suggest it was a learning book of seamanship, not quite so on the inside. "What I suppose is truly unfortunate is that these same qualities are found in many of the officers, which may well include some of your superiours. If you discover them to be mutinous, or of that quality, then you should come and inform me immediately. For those who inform me of such things in the Navy shall have the satisfaction of knowing they have done their duty, and will be recommended for advancement. Men who are in my favour, and that does include young gentlemen such as yourself, are also my favoured dining companions." As distracted as he had been about his thoughts, and how his eyes have dulled for a moment with that, he snapped quickly back to attention, just to catch the jist of what the old man wanted. Report on his superiors? He blinked. It went against things, such as - how could a word of a midshipman be beleived over a word of a superior officer? Honestly, if he dared do something like that, even justified, he'd probably end his career right there! Couldn't believe a promise.... of a good patron. He blinked as he jerked his head up. Like a child offered candy, but demanded something return he was now howevering above a decision. Dining companions. He felt his belly stirr at that. It was no secret that captains had the finest food! Finest drink and all in all the greater amoutn of it too. What riches could an admiral have! He chewed on his lip, imagining the table laden with all most delicious things a boy could imagine. "Any questions?" "Questions?" He paused. His mind raced and he moved nervously again. Such a long speech, so muchi nformation that he was given, had his mine reel and want to block. He shook his head to clear it then quickly added. "Wait, sir." Because a shook head could've meant an answer to that too. "I.." What to ask, what to ask? "What happened.. here before?" He gulped. "You've mentioned mutiny sir... surely it hasn't happened around here? .." He hesitated :" Well.. well I mean, you mean to say right... " Never negate what an superior officer would have told you it is a sure way into trouble. ".. I mean, I believe... you uh.. Sorry sir, what I wanted to ask is...how did the mutiny happen?" |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 5 Jan 2010, 09:42 PM Post #9 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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St Montgomery was ready to dismiss the lad when he seemed to have abruptly changed his mind. That certainly didn't speak well of him, instead it stunk of all the horrible indecisive men he had under him already. No doubt they would be pleased to learn there was yet another one like themselves being added to the ranks. Real men made a decision and went with it, never changing their mind no matter the consequences. They made their choices, and then they lived with them. Regret was a useless emotion, better suited to weak minded fools who had not the guts to seize and make all rightfully theirs. "What happened.. here before? You've mentioned mutiny sir... surely it hasn't happened around here? ... Well.. well I mean, you mean to say right...I mean, I believe... you uh.. Sorry sir, what I wanted to ask is...how did the mutiny happen?" St Montgomery snorted, and then abruptly decided that perhaps a better tactic was in order. Castigating the boy would certainly feel nice, but might just not bring him to be as loyal to him as he needed him to be. Time to possible reward. By not punishing. "Oh, how I remember the follies of my own youth, believing that such events were impossible!" he said, "but alas, I must assure you they are not. And if you disbelieve my account," his voice took a hard edge, "there are always others who were witness to such an event and will no doubt confirm my story, but no, it is no mere fiction. "While it did not happen in here proper, it occurred in Port Royale, back when I was captain of the Proserpina. We were not safe from the insanity that caused many in the fort, and other ships to rise up against their superiours and comrades. In fact, the battle spilled over into the town, and while those casualties are not important to enumerate, many were lost of our men. "So you can of course see the importance of reporting such signs of all the men." |
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| Tobias Bailey | 5 Jan 2010, 10:44 PM Post #10 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"While it did not happen in here proper, it occurred in Port Royale, back when I was captain of the Proserpina. We were not safe from the insanity that caused many in the fort, and other ships to rise up against their superiours and comrades. In fact, the battle spilled over into the town, and while those casualties are not important to enumerate, many were lost of our men." The Admiral's voice had an unpleasant edge. It didn't leave Bailey surprised that it did though. The sort of insanity was dreaded in any navy, on any ship and even his previous vessel with its fair crew, with faults as any, the thought and fear of it still existed. The illegal assemblies with the intention of mutiny were not permitted. And still the men's word was watched. It was just so, that the men were good and for the most, either not brave or not displeased enough that they would want to risk their lives and well being. "So you can of course see the importance of reporting such signs of all the men." "Yes sir." St. Montgomery's speech could almost be called inspirational. He wondered if his friend overreacted when he spoke about this man. He was fair, he made sense when he spoke and frankly, no officer would want the men that wanted to bring chaos to a navy's order. "...I will train my men to be reliable and loyal to you sir. Won't let them go about thinking such ill meaning thoughts neither." He spoke with the confidence of a young man, a child that was attempting to pretend that the shoes fit. He was relieved that the man did not mind the few minutes that he took at leisure to be late. Or the stop that he and his new middie friend made, before even considering coming aboard. They've ate nice and drunk. The food was really as good as he was told. The drink could've been better, but in such a distant place complaining about that was a fool's errand. Perhaps there'd be more food to be had on board, that was better than the usual sort that midshipmen got. How they did not know what the right portion for them would be, he could not understand. They had so many midshipmen serving and yet the boys always remained hungry, or was it just him? But an Admiral's ship had to have a better sort of cousine, right? He grinned to himself and looked almost dreamy at the prospect that his imagination offered. Was he not forgetting something though? Something like standing right infront of the man that was to decide his future, the man that was probably not happy about day dreaming midshipmen and the very man he was meant to impress. He cursed himself and straightened again, stiffer than a marine. "Is there anything else sir?" He asked. "..Uh.. when am I to meet my men?" If that was an appropriate thing to ask, couldn't suggest he wished to attend a dinner, though if there was a way he could have hinted to it, the boy would've been all over to that. |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 9 Jan 2010, 06:55 PM Post #11 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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(ooc- ugh, sorry for the short reply) "...I will train my men to be reliable and loyal to you sir. Won't let them go about thinking such ill meaning thoughts neither." St Montgomery smiled at the lad. He very much doubted the capabilities of any man but himself, but who knew, perhaps the boy would get lucky and train his new charges appropriately. Based off of the answer now, there would be reason to hope, if St Montgomery saw a point to such an ultimately futile gesture, that the lad would report suspicious activity to him. It was quite an achievement he felt, ensuring that none of the officers or men under him felt any misplayed loyalty to each other, when it should, and soon would be, owed and given only unto him. "Is there anything else sir? ..Uh.. when am I to meet my men?" "There will be nothing else," St Montgomery said, turning and walking back to his his window, "Lievtenant Acton will show you where you are needed. He should be on deck at the moment." He paused for a moment, and then added, "Oh, and Mister Bailey, I have much faith that you will turn out as a fine officer. I'd hate for it to be misplaced." He smiled staring through his reflection. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 9 Jan 2010, 10:25 PM Post #12 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Lievtenant Acton will show you where you are needed. He should be on deck at the moment." He raised his hand and knuckled his temple in response. About to turn, the voice of the admiral stopped his progress. He tilted his head, glad that he was faced again with the man's back. He only knew St. Montgomery for a few minutes, not even an hour and he felt confused. Not because he would be certain that his new friend was altogether unfair in his evaluation of the admiral, but rather because he was in doubt of both. The admiral did not present himself as a purely dark character, but rather as a player who knew his cards well and perhaps knew the hand of his other players. The suspicion and imagination of a young man such as Bailey, could run wild. He could not allow it a distraction from his duties, as it was this that he was meant to follow once aboard his new ship. He did not arrive to speculate on the character of the commanding officer, he was quite correctly scolding himself about that, but to serve him and do his outmost, as his father had written. That, and alas to see what fun could be had. He was still young and midshipmen, if all were like Slater, were a promising bunch for more than playing the stiff lipped, sour faced role, of a back so erect and straight that it would probably begin bending backwards or break. "Oh, and Mister Bailey, I have much faith that you will turn out as a fine officer. I'd hate for it to be misplaced." "Yes, sir. Thank you sir, It won't sir." He hurried to speak, knuckling his brow one more time, though either action must've been missed, unless the reflection was not only that of the admiral, but himself as well. Quickly he turned on his heel so that the tails of his coat - even with the given length - snapped about in mid air, his queue taking a similar path , airborne and landing by his other shoulder. He stifled a groan, and left quietly. Click, click, click. The doors opened and then were shut again, carefully and as quietly as it could be mastered, as if afraid that an abruptness in the action might send a wrong message to the old officer. The lightest of breezes, that came rushing against his cheeks felt a welcome change from the stuffy interior of the confines of the cabin. He inhaled deeply. Unfortunately he had to bring his hand to his nose quickly, as the offensive smell intruded his senses. He was reminded not to forget that no matter the fact they were aboard the ship, the port itself was not far from it and with it its sweet smell of decay, foul waters where ships and people were plenty. The heat could only amplify such a problem, for it hastened anything, which was already in process of rot. The worst of the foul smell was gone and he guessed it might've had a definite source rather than just the port itself. With a simple shrug though he made his was past the Tars, young and old, and the few ship boys who looked more somber than he was used to. With a hand at his brow, raised to shield his eyes from the worst of the sun's glare. Whoever would've had a hangover at such a time, would be a poor, miserable creatures. If he was not mistaken, then that there was the Lieutenant the admiral mentioned. Or one of them. He wished the other midshipman was here to set him to rights and distance him from the wrongs. With a one final glance he began to make his way towards the man he deemed to be Mister Acton. |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 10 Jan 2010, 10:32 PM Post #13 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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Lievtenant Acton turned from lecturing one of the sailors, to see a midshipman approaching him. He had been within earshot earlier of the officer on watch and heard him presenting himself before he was set off for the Admiral's cabin, so it was obvious that they did have some new officers. Not that anyone ever bothered to inform him of such things until they actually occurred, he thought darkly. "Midshipman....Bailey?" he asked. He hadn't paid enough attention to the name so he didn't have much confidence in his guess but it was at least a start. He had to wonder though why the midshipman chose him of all men to approach. It wasn't like he didn't already have enough to do. Perhaps he could pass him off to one of the other lievtenants, and have him sort out the mess, or maybe one of the other midshipman... If there was anything in the end he was certain about, it was that he felt slightly sorry for the midshipman being posted on Victoria, and that he felt more sorry about his own posting on her. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 10 Jan 2010, 11:38 PM Post #14 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Midshipman....Bailey?" Bailey knuckled his brow quickly and answered a smooth: "Aye, sir." It was a pity that the officers did not have a broad sign on their faces identifying them as one or the other of the lieutenants that he was looking for. Perhaps it would hardly matter whether he'd have approached a different man, but as the admiral mentioned an exact name, it was better not to be superficial about that. Once he was well learnt in the ways of the ship and its people he could see how far his boundaries would go, and what was permitted and what might earn a lad to land in a worse predicament. He relaxed visibly. "I've been sent to find lieutenant Acton, sir." He waited to see if there was recognition of the sort on the man's face that would suggest he knew the man or such that he would be the man. "Admiral St. Montgomery sends his regards." Which wasn't exactly what he was told, but it was a habit nonetheless, which had him say it. He hesitated. He could make the guess and the decision to speak with this man as if he were indeed Lieutenant Acton, or ask of the whereabouts of him and hope he was not asking the very man that. Or he could make a third choice and just say:" ...with respect, sir, ..for I'm really new here." With a fine excuse, that actually was no lie. "..do I have the honour of speaking to lievtenant Acton?" He gazed at him in earnest, hands at his back rather than his sides and his head tilted just a little, so that he resembled a curious creature that had found something new to explore. He could see the men go about their business with the corner of his eye and though it could've proved itself an interesting distraction, an observation which in itself would be a lesson and an aid to evaluate the character of the people, he was not yet to stray thus far. Not until he would even learn which of these fine specimen of man was going to fall under his keep. |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 11 Jan 2010, 03:41 AM Post #15 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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Acton nodded, glad that he was right. So this was one of the new men coming aboard. "I've been sent to find lieutenant Acton, sir." "That'll be me," Acton said, nodding to midshipman. So some jerk did tell the kid to seek him out. If he found out who it was, he was going to have a word with them. "Admiral St. Montgomery sends his regards." Ahhh, that jerk. No word with them necessary. "I'm sure," he said dryly, thinking that the day he ever saw St Montgomery send his regards to a subordinate, would be the day he would strip off his clothing and dance to a jig on the deck of the Victoria. "Well, I must confess that I am ill-prepared for seeing around a new midshipman," Acton said, "you'll soon find that good communication here is a hard to find commodity. But never mind that, I think I'll quickly show you around." He waved his hand around them, "the deck." He motioned for the lad to follow him and led him down, "I'll see you to the midshipmen's berth, and leave you in their capable care. I'll assign one of them to finish the tour for you, no doubt he'll have some quality wisdom to impart to a fellow midshipman." No doubt, he though, like the finest whore houses to visit. "Ahh, here we are, let us see who is around." |
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| Tobias Bailey | 11 Jan 2010, 01:05 PM Post #16 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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(ooc thinking that the day he ever saw St Montgomery send his regards to a subordinate, would be the day he would strip off his clothing and dance to a jig on the deck of the Victoria - now that will be something to see. :P) "You'll soon find that good communication here is a hard to find commodity. But never mind that, I think I'll quickly show you around." An open critique albeit without the fingers pointed at no names. Bailey arched a brow. "the deck." Mister Acton stated the obvious, leaving the young midshipman to bite at his tongue. Better than what came to mind just then, a thought to add - no doubt - or perhaps - who would've thought - just to name a few of a selection of fine retorts. Instead he gave the man a serious nod and followed, with a smooth gait, befitting a young gentleman. A serious young gentleman, which he would be just about the length of time that it was needed of him. "I'll see you to the midshipmen's berth, and leave you in their capable care. I'll assign one of them to finish the tour for you, no doubt he'll have some quality wisdom to impart to a fellow midshipman." Was that sarcasm? Bailey glanced at the lieutenant, waiting. Just in time he turned to set his foot right on the floorboard beneath him. Both his hands remained at his side, not even needing to raise as to keep the boy's balance. "Ahh, here we are, let us see who is around." He could see his sea-chest, neatly stored. He looked at the beams and hoped his hammock would not end up to be one by the wall or a rib jutting out from it, above. "Sir." He was unwilling to interrupt, but it was a question none of the midshipmen could answer him. Even if not minding to be kept in ignorance of the answer and left with the finest excuse to do little for a fair while, perhaps it would not leave the best impression. "When will I be able to meet the men assigned to me?" Then he turned to look across the Middie's berth grinning. Big. Much bigger than he was used to. It looked cozy and though not showered with light, quite pleasant. The scent in the berth was quite similar as through the whole ship. It was of sweat, of men and confined quarters, possibly of wetness that came from further below and of a distinct tinge of wood smell. It was stuffy, quite so as he'd expected. With the sun searing hot above, and the air itself of the tropics, he could really not expect to experience the nice cool breeze of his home. |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 11 Jan 2010, 05:22 PM Post #17 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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(ooc- England expects that every naval officer shall do his duty and strip and prance around on deck a bit.  )"When will I be able to meet the men assigned to me?" "Oh, hmmm," Acton said, thinking, "Like I said, communication issues. I'll find out which of our gun crews needs someone, and I'll have to get back to you on that. I had thought we were all covered, but perhaps one of the midshipman were transferred off, and you can have his crew..." Well, there was a quick way to get an answer to that question. Otherwise it would involve a lot more work, and delay for Mr Bailey. Not that he particularly cared about any delay to the new midshipman, but if it didn't involve him chasing down more people then he would be happy about that development. "Oy!" he said yelling at the other midshipmen, "you lot! Has anyone been transferred out from your berth?" Someone muttered while reading a book. "I didn't catch that," Acton said. The midshipman looked up, "Georgie." "Ah," he looked at Bailey, "you shall have Georgie's men." "Come, come, I need a volunteer to show your fellow midshipman around, Mr Bailey." |
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| James Slater | 12 Jan 2010, 03:52 PM Post #18 |
Signals and Bunting
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"Come, come, I need a volunteer to show your fellow midshipman around, Mr Bailey." A guide? Slater sat up in his hammock. "Why didn't you say so, sir?" It was all he could do not to grin eagerly. Lieutenant Acton was a fool. "Come on, Nate. Let's you and me give Bailey a proper tour. He'll not get one, else!" Nate Quinn marked his place in the book and set it aside. "With pleasure." That was it for Lieutenant Acton, Slater thought as he shrugged into his coat. He could go topside again and pretend to be worth something. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 12 Jan 2010, 04:26 PM Post #19 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"you shall have Georgie's men." That solved the problem for the moment. It would be fully solved when he saw the faces of the men and knew that they used to belong to Mister Georgie, but that could be postponed for later, when it mattered. And the problem would be even more solved when he was the one sitting on a sea-chest or someplace, reading his thrilling book of seamanship - or what was really in there - and enjoying his free time. Though perhaps a situation during which food was provided would be quite as pleasing. "Come, come, I need a volunteer to show your fellow midshipman around, Mr Bailey." He glanced at the midshipmen that were seated about the berth, some concentrated on books or other less tiring tasks. "Come on, Nate. Let's you and me give Bailey a proper tour. He'll not get one, else!" Bailey recognised the face. "With pleasure." And gave another its name. He arched an eyebrow at the excitement and decided that once they were through, he would double check that all his things were still in his chest and not wrinkled, dipped in tar or covered in itchy stuffs. Better of, he'd watch his step and be on his guard till that grin and excitement was recognised as good natured and not that of mischief. "Well.." His voice trailed off. Blinking, his eyes at last adapted fully to the darker interior. "Wherever you want to start." He motioned with his hand in the general direction. He was certain to get his hat off later. Give himself a bit of a wave with it. If he could, the neck tie could be loosened some too. |
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| Freondsceap Drake | 19 Jan 2010, 03:04 PM Post #20 |
NPC
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"Come on, Nate. Let's you and me give Bailey a proper tour. He'll not get one, else!" Acton studied Midshipman Slater for a moment before shrugging. The lad volunteered, and he hated to have to just pick one of the midshipmen for the duty. Even though this was certainly a bad combination, so long as they took care of Bailey, and left him to more important tasks, then what could possibly go wrong? "Wherever you want to start." "That's a good lad!" Acton said, clapping Bailey on the shoulder, "now if you do not mind, I am needed elsewhere." As he was leaving he paused briefly to shout, "Good luck!" chuckling the whole way out. [exit] |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 20 Jan 2010, 05:34 PM Post #21 |
Master of Puppets
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"Well," Nate Quinn said. "What better place to start than the tops?" Slater, grinning broadly, mashed his round hat onto his head. "Of course. Best first, an' all. C'mon then!" A dash up the rigging naturally risked notice and censure from the admiral, but like as not the man was in his cabin terrorising his steward again. He'd never be any the wiser. Quinn shoved his feet into his shoes and said, "Well? What're you standin' there for, boy? Up top with you!" |
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| Tobias Bailey | 22 Jan 2010, 08:36 PM Post #22 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Of course. Best first, an' all. C'mon then!" Slater said, once Quinn suggested they start with the tops, and probably work their way down. That lieutenant sure could give a good clap on the shoulder. It might not have had Bailey stumbling, but it certainly remained to be felt, with a few moments passed. But those thoughts aside, the tops would enable him to see the ship from its highest point, and who wouldn't have enjoyed a run up the rigging anyway? "Well? What're you standin' there for, boy? Up top with you!" Had he not been yet again day dreaming, a habit he was better to drop fast, he might've made a move sooner. Never the less he moved forward in the direction of the companion way. He glanced at his two guides. "Waiting fer someone to show the way." He answered with a chuckle. Not that he didn't know, really. "Say, have us see who's fasted up there?" He asked , glancing over his shoulder. If the admiral had said something about behaving like a gentleman and being a proper, calm, not childish sort, it wasn't remembered at that moment. |
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| James Slater | 9 Feb 2010, 04:52 PM Post #23 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Waiting fer someone to show the way." To show the way? Slater managed to not roll his eyes as he scampered up the ladder. This one couldn't be much of a midshipman if he needed to be shown up to the shrouds. "C'mon then!" He cried, swinging himself onto the well-tarred cordage. "Fastest it is!" Quinn was already on his way up. "Too slow, boys! Up, up!" |
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| Tobias Bailey | 9 Feb 2010, 05:21 PM Post #24 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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Bailey waited for a few moments. It did look as though he was not going to climb after all. He studied his palm, his nails. They have seen better days, though atleast he hadn't had the awful habit of one of his fellow midshipmen of the other ship. Chewing on nails, while a favourite past time of that lad, did ruin them terribly in a while. It wasn't that appealing to watch either, especially if they hadn't been cleaned much before the bite. He tapped his foot against the floor and looked up. They were higher now. He smiled and then smoothly swung himself into the shrouds. He'd moved quickly up the ropes, showing very little effort as he hauled his weight higher. He felt a little strain, as he'd forced his legs and his arms to move him up quicker than they were used to, when speed wasn't the very goal. " Hurry up or out of the way!" He called merrily. He wasn't tired yet, but the heat did have a trickle of sweat come down his brow. he rubbed it in mid move, where his arm had to make a journey back to his face before it would up to find it's next hold to haul itself by. The hat was nudged by it enough that it just began to slide backwards when the second hand caught hold of it. Jerked it back in place and reached up and forward again. The tails of his coat, flapped neatly, the movement adapting a small bit to the sway of the ship, which might've been felt more the higher they went. |
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| James Slater | 3 Mar 2010, 04:55 PM Post #25 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Hurry up or out of the way!" Nate Quinn glanced down, just once, and grimaced. "Hard on our heels, that one. Almost faster than the Jacks!" "Put some energy to it!" Slater snapped, straining to get moving just that little bit faster. The indignity of getting bested by a newcomer aboard was too great to contemplate. They'd likely get caned for it. It was not a question of 'if', but rather of 'what', in the case of their admiral's mood. At least one of them had to make it to the crosstrees ahead of their pursuer. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 3 Mar 2010, 09:04 PM Post #26 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Put some energy to it!" He could hear it said, even if it wasn't meant for him. Slater didn't want him up there as fast, was it? It wasn't a surprise considering he would've been just as unhappy if a new midshipman coming to his previous ship, would have suddenly made better progress up the mast than any of the old hands. This idea however did not mean that the boy would slack or slow. As much as he understood, he still wanted to be up there first if it was possible. He grinned brightly. He was without pressure to reach the top before the others and so defend his honour. He was solely attempting it out of want and his competitive spirit. It was enough to drive him higher, faster however. "Come on lads." He swung himself on a rope, dangerously free from much contact with the rest of it. And up again, gazing up as if to try and find a quicker way past the boys. If he could risk it, there was a chance he could swing himself over the platform, sooner. He pushed himself up, hoped he could be past the boys on time. Forced his muscles to strain and work double time, just to more speedily haul the body up. He felt the swing and sway of the ship and used the natural movement of the ship in his favour. And up, and over, a bit like an acrobat, a lot like a fool, and a tiny part like a lad who was too sure of himself and the reaching of his end goal. |
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| James Slater | 14 Mar 2010, 04:26 PM Post #27 |
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Signals and Bunting
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The new midshipman was going to be trouble, Lieutenant Acton thought, watching the three boys race each other up the rigging. He'd suspected it when the boy came aboard, and the lack of offence professed by the admiral had confirmed it. There would be trouble from the lad, without a doubt. ~ "Damn his eyes," Slater gasped, hanging for the barest second from the futtock shrouds. They'd been bested, both of them. Somehow. He dragged himself over the edge of the mast platform and snorted out a bemused laugh. "Devilish fast, you are!" |
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| Tobias Bailey | 16 Mar 2010, 10:29 AM Post #28 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Was just lucky." Bailey looked satisfied with himself, but didn't feel like he needed to rub the fact he had won, in. It was a fun game, and that was where he meant to leave it. He grinned instead and sat himself comfortably on the platform, leaving his feet dangling over it. He peered over it as well, hands holding comfortably onto the edge. The world from up here, looked so much smaller, so distant. It felt like watching a dream unfold, and a bit like being a God who was casting a glance at his pawns and their daily life. Of course, one could imagine that, while keeping in mind that they were still only mere midshipmen, meant to listen to their superiors and hope to please them. "Pretty nice view." He said offhandedly. "You two are fast." He averted his gaze at the two fellow midshipmen, and smiled. A gust of wind tore about the trio then, giving a boost to the flight of seaguls, but also another object, much less meant or made for such a journey. It blew suddenly, and violently. Bailey lost his his 'anchor. His hands gripped at the edge more tightly as his body inclined forward. And then his hat took flight, twirled, twisted then fell, a moment later it was picked up by the wind, which carried it higher, still out of reach of the boys, then released it so that it could sail towards the deck yet again. " ... Oh bugger." |
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| James Slater | 28 Mar 2010, 04:12 PM Post #29 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"That's... bad." Slater and Quinn watched the hat drift down toward the deck, mirrored expressions of terror on their faces. That was very bad. They'd both forgotten about the race aloft and the pleasantry of sitting in the tops. If the admiral saw that... "Get down. Quick!" Quinn hissed, already slinging himself down onto the futtock shrouds. They were all going to be in trouble if the admiral saw. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 28 Mar 2010, 04:43 PM Post #30 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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Bailey was taken slightly aback by the reaction that his departed hat had caused in Slater and Quinn. It could have been no less an expression of horror if they had seen a man fall from the tops. It was a loss sure, but the hat had even gone towards the deck and not over board. It was there, soon to be safe. It was a terrible thing that it had fallen, but surely not so awful as a man splattering its guts on the hard timbers. "'right going!" The lad said, not in as much of a rush as the two boys, too startled to be aware of the gravity of the situation. "Didn't go over board, that's a relief." He said with what was a some sort of gratitude given to the winds. Below the hat had managed to land neatly on the ground, it remained motionless for a few moments. It only slid a bit further before it seemed to refuse on going any further for that moment. |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 7 Apr 2010, 02:18 PM Post #31 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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A hush fell over the ship as the hat descended from the heavens and came to rest on deck. Lievtenant Acton went ashen and looked like he might keel over. The men around did their best to look busy, and the marines straightened. It may have looked like the hat's appearance may have caused this sudden change in the mood of those on deck, but rather, it was now the lone figure approaching that was inspiring such a reaction. A pair of booted feet came to rest by the hat, and the towering figure to whom they belonged looked down at the object in his way. "Apparently," said the Admiral, "my men are either so incompetent as to be unable to keep their heads," he looked up and around at the men on deck, after deliberately stepping on the hat and squashing it with his weight, "or, one of my men cares so little for the image that he must project of His Majesty's Navy. "I care little for either options. Especially, as it would appear that this is an officer's hat." He spun around angrily his eyes seeking out all the officers on deck, looking for the one whose head was bared to the world. "Where are you? Which one of you is cluttering up my deck?!" |
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| Tobias Bailey | 12 Apr 2010, 07:57 PM Post #32 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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The silence was so utter and complete, that it had the boy pause and look down just to check that there were any men there and alive. What he found was men who were repeating their meager task as if it was quite hard and needed their utter attention, the marines looked stiff and straightened up to the point that he wondered if their backs could snap. His gaze wandered to his hat and there he saw a man, a figure of age and of experience, but also of cruelty which only needed a moment to reveal itself. He still held onto the ropes, motionless, when to his horror or perhaps more to his shock, the man's foot came down on his hat. His mouth was agape, and his hold nearly slipped, so surprised he was that it had happened. Surely, it wasn't the best conduct of a man to loose his hat, but to damage it, step on it as if it were nothing, was a bit much! He barely caught himself from making a sound, and rather to lift his jaw up and press his lips into a tight line. He recognised the aged man. St. Montgomery, sadly an admiral. Meaning, basically, that he could do nothing, not even protest at this display but only hope that he could brush and tend to his hat later and that the step hadn't damaged it too much. Even with that, his pride was wounded somewhat. Bailey began to climb again after a few moments, his eyes for a while on the foot and the hat till he heard the angry voice and he wondered if he'd have been better off, climbing back up and hoping not to be seen. His head was bare, glaringly so even if his hair was anything but of few strands. He gulped as his feet hit the deck and tried to look inconspicuous, invisible, a mere shadow passing the Tars, with a purpose, but as every day as the wooden planks on a ship. Maybe, if St. Montgomery wouldn't see him, he could get away with....well, he'd plan ahead later. |
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| James Slater | 16 Apr 2010, 09:00 PM Post #33 |
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Signals and Bunting
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Bad bad bad bad. Slater and Quinn were frozen in the rigging, staring down at the deck. The admiral had taken possession of the hat and in his usual manner was thundering at the watch on deck to find out who belonged to that unfortunate piece of felt. It was Quinn that broken the terrified silence first. He spoke in a hushed whisper that Slater could barely hear. "Get moving. We can't let the boy on his own." Which was only good sense. Even though the three of them each were in bad positions. Quinn was senior midshipman aboard, Slater was signals midshipman, and poor Bailey... the two of them shinned silently down toward the third lad, whereupon Quinn held out his own hat. "Put that on and don't say a sodding word when we're on deck," he said. |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 7 May 2010, 06:40 PM Post #34 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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St Montgomery's piercing gaze detected none of the officers on deck to be missing their hats. Several did look...almost akin to being in disarray and thus a great discredit to himself, and no doubt a deliberate attempt to make him look the fool and undermine his authority. He'd have ordered them flogged, but apparently...a snitch of some sort sent a letter back to his superiours and he had been directed to keep the floggings to every other day at the least. Once he found out who had written that letter he intended to have them flogged every other day for a month. Such a ridiculous directive to work under, especially when those admirals had no right to be interfering with his command and telling him how he was supposed to run his ship. "Hmm," he said, staring at some of the marines, and wondering how he might draw out the guilty party. Regardless of having not found the leader of this little hat insurrection, he was not willing to give up now. To give up now was to prove weakness, and look like a fool before his men, and he'd have whoever intended to make him look like a fool feel his wrath. "Every officer out from the crowds stand before me now. Send someone below to rouse and assemble all the officers who are not currently here. We shall find out who this hat belongs to, even if it takes a bloody inquisition. " |
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| Tobias Bailey | 7 May 2010, 09:39 PM Post #35 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Put that on and don't say a sodding word when we're on deck," He heard Quinn say, while a hat was thrust to him. It was a noble offer. Quinn would have easily taken blame for it, been the one without the hat even if the other would've been ill fitting to the younger upstart. It would be a coward's way accept it though. Even if the mentioned lad was a willing participant it would still mean blaming someone else with whom he had been racing and skylarking and then be standing by while they had to face the storm head on. Bailey studied the hat, turned it in hand. It wouldn't fit him as well as his own. He looked at Quinn and shook his head. It was a nice offer, but he could take the blame for an accident. It wasn't as if he had thrown his hat onto the deck on purpose and aimed it to hit and knock out an officer, a marine or an unsuspecting tar. Now, if he had wished to do that, the hat wouldn't be the best subject to aim at people. It floated and swayed rather then fell in a straight line. A pebble from the port, a bit of hard bread or cheese, anything the cook thought to represent as food, now those would be excellent weapons to throw! "Thanks, but I don't want you getting in trouble for it. It was just and accident. I'm sure he'll understand." Which, judging by what shouting was going on on deck, was not it at all. But Bailey was, as was often his habit, not paying attention to the right things. He held the hat back out to Quinn. He meant to hide earlier, but knew now that any attempt to bolt below might only prolong this farce. It would anger the officers whose duty would be to report on deck, it would set a terrible example to the Admiral, for found he would be. And if he were found, while covering in a dark place it would be as bad as being discovered as the only midshipman that was not present and thus disobeyed a direct order. Infact, if all things were considered it was the smartest thing that he was to report swiftly. Certainly there might be a telling to for it wasn't right to drop a hat, but worse than that? On any normal ship it could not lead to anything but the telling, Bailey reasoned as he started in the direction and past the few marines that obstructed his progress. "Sir." He called. If he prolonged it all, for it could never just end with any of them getting away with it, the nerves would be twisted in all the wrong ways, the temperaments would be frayed and there'd be not a single officer feeling warm and fuzzy to see the culprit. |
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9:31 PM Sep 3
