The Watch Dog

[Pew]

::Before I can reach the second step, the Captain called me back to the rail.

"Mister Pew, six armed men of the watch continuously throughout the night.  I want the muskets and pistols traded out and oiled by each retiring watch.  Two aloft.  Four on the weatherdecks."

I see the Captain point to the various positions on the ship. Nodding at each spot, I immediately begin to think of who is below for the first watch.

Turning back to the ladder stairs . .

"And, Mister Pew..."

"Dinner in the Ward Room at the second bell, if you please."

"Aye sah." With a quick salute of my knuckle to my forehead, I head below and to the armoury. Eric is at the door with Mr. Woodington behind him.

"Gent's . . . Cap'ns orders . . the pistols and muskets are ta be traded out and oiled by each retiring watch. Cap'n wants two men aloft and four on the weatherdecks. Eric, I'd like ya ta take the first watch with Mr. Flint. Rouse Dinwiddie, Press, Whiting, Thatcher and make 'im aware. Fresh guns at each change ' tha watch. At second bell, I'll be wit the Cap'n and Mr. Lasseter in tha Ward Room. Send McGinty ifin ya need anythin'."

With that I spin around to see Mr. Lasseter making his way to the armoury. Wearing his slops, and a dry shirt, three pistols and sword on baldric, "Yes sah, o' course. No worries. Fresh pistols right away. Lads, 'and Mr. Lasseter a fresh brace . . " I lean against the bulkhead looking at the dry clothes of our Quartermaster, "I muss be getting meself inta some dry clothes as well sah. Dinnot 'ave much aboard . . ."

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Aye, Pew, ye does.... Go 'head an' get some fresh togs... I'll fetch me own oil..."

He nodded and let Pew by, to get to his cabin, then headed into the Armoury where he found a rag and a cask with oil for the weapons. He sparingly oiled his pistols and sword til they shined. He also oiled down the scabbard, inside and out.

"Ah... that'll do...."

He slid the sword back into the scabbard and headed topside, then back to his cabin to spread out his damp clothes...

Once back in his small domain, he strung out the damp shirt, slops, and stockings by running a thin piece of line between the ringbolts where his hammock usually hung, then laying the clothes across it. His shoes were just damp, so he shook out the sand and brushed them off, placing them on top of his sea chest. Picking up his wesket next, he brushed it off, it was somewhat damp, the linen and wool felt mostly dry, but when squeezed, water issued fourth... So it too joined the shirt and slops on the line after he emptied the pockets into the top drawer of the desk.

"Well... Looks like I be dressed down fer dinner this day..."

He shrugged and headed to the Wardroom...

[William Brand]

William retired to the ward room and dressed down from his weather gear. He spread a few of the days charts to compare the notations from the logbooks to the maps of La Blanquilla. After a short time he put them away again and settled into the chair at the head of the small table. He placed two olds friends of similar name in front of him, Tyndale and Shakespeare. He was just settling into a play that he had read three times before, when Mister Lasseter knocked and entered the room.

They exchanged greetings at the same time, each marking the other by title, then William waved him to an empty chair.

"The Bard and the Bible...?" Mister Lasseter inquired as he drew out a chair. His eyebrows were raised with a look of amusement.

"Aye." William said with a small smile of his own. "I often mix blasphemy and blessings with my afternoon tea."

The Quartermaster nodded, helping himself to cold bread left over from the meal before. "'e daily doth frequent with unrestrained loose companions."*

William huffed a little laugh, and marking his place with an unused napkin, he set the books aside. The rain above was quickening again and it ran down the narrow windows behind the wheelhouse. William could just make out Mister Warren on the quarterdeck, but the men beyond in the rigging were a blur.

"What have you discovered about our castaways, Mister Lasseter".

*From Shakespeare's Richard the II

[Bloody Bill Flint]

As Bill and Eric took their positions along the deck Bill turned to his friend. "Perhaps t'd be best if'n we supervise the oilin' betwixt watches. Swap out every shift, what say ye?". Franklin paused for a long moment before turning and clapping a hand on Flint's shoulder. "Look mate, I know yer looking to prove yerself aboard the Dog but ye needn't fret so much about it, the lad's are more'n capable of seein' to it themselves."

"'Sides mate ye've accounted fairly well fer yerself minus yer little dust up with that McCormick fella, but even so yer not entirely ta blame. Pew's startin' ta come around to ye I think, and the Cap'n appoints himself the judge of no man. You jes keep on bein' handy and you'll more'n earn yer keep."

The two men exchanged a smile and went about their duties.

[Silkie McDonough]

The porthole splashed with rain confirmed what she heard above, it was raining again. Murin slouched in the chair provided, rested her head on the back and closed her eyes. The bundle of their possessions lay beside her on the floor. She questioned her decision to gather everything they had scavenged. The weapons would be useful but the bottles of liquid and that thing that Ana had called a quadrant. Why ever would she bring those along?

Ana’s query of the doctor brought her out of her musings. Didn’t the man she spoke to say the surgeon was a woman? They would know soon enough. She inspected her swollen hand it was hot and red; it hurt to move her fingers. She would be glad to have someone look at it.

Hot and sticky, soaked to the bone she knew she must look like a wild animal. She gingerly removed her feet from the boots that she wore a stretched her toes, her legs, a wide yawn escaped as she continued to stretch. She cringed in pain; her tight burnt hide objected to such movement, the linen shirt was no match for the tropical sun. Had they not found the cave they would surly have perished.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The Ward Room

"Can't say I've found any more out than wot I mentioned on deck... Twer a merchant ship named 'Apollo', they wrecked 'bout three week back r' so the one can remember... an' they ain't see a soul alive til we come along... damn lucky ta be alive I think... dunno wot they survived on.... Damn lucky indeed..."

He then took a drink of hot tea that was brought in earlier.

"And who will come looking for these survivors, should they come? The British? William pressed.

Dorian's brow creased and he pursed his lips, before replying he broke off a lump of sugar from the cone on the tray and added it to his tea.

"I s'pose we need ta ask 'r guests wot they might know of such... an' these waters ain't exactly friendly ta th' brits... That is, if it were a brit merchant, though th' name does make it appear so... Ya want I go an' see wot more knowledge o' such things can be had?"

[William Brand]

William considered saying yes, but his consideration might be inconsiderate to those poor women just now brought aboard. "No." he said shaking his head. "Not yet. We shall let them find their sea legs again and respite from their recent tribulation. The answers should come on their own."

William stood and turned to the windows astern. He watched the rain fall on the sea for a time with his hands behind his back, pondering on the matter of castaways and the man Jonas. He had not yet determined what to do with the man and already he was beset with others to deal with. He turned again to the Quartermaster.

"What think you of this man Jonas? Can the man be persuaded to join us here? I would rather have another working man upon this ship than a man to be dealt with, but can such a thing work? What think you?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

Mr. Lasseter had almost forgotten about Jonas McCormick, and took a moment to refreshen his memory of him. He stood and began to pace with his hands behind his back, then stopped before speaking.

"I think that as long as friction betwixt He and Mr. Flint can be relieved, we may very well 'ave another able seaman... Though I do fear 'e may do as bidden out o' fear... I s'pose we'll give 'im th' option.... If 'e chooses ta leave our company............. Dunno wot we'll do with 'im... Sendin' 'im ta th' colonies might encourage 'im ta seek a ship ta come hunt us, out o' guilt of wot 'e done... Or mayhaps he'll just drown 'is misery in a bottle... "

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then began to pace again...

[William Brand]

"All very different possibilities with significant outcomes."

They were both pacing now. When one would stop the other would circle. They were buzzards hovering around the same undying problems.

"The 'Dog is quickly becoming a sanctuary for the most unlikely vagabonds. The luck is ours that so many of them get along. A full fourth of our crew is women and I've never known the company of so many aboard a ship that wasn't shipping passengers."

He shook his head and sat himself down again.

"I'll be performing marriages next."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian continued his pacing until the Captain had mentioned preforming marriages. This stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned to William with raised eyebrows. He went to speak, reconsidered his words, went to speak again, then waved off his thoughts and continued to pace a minute or two more. Finally he stopped his wanderings and put his hands on the back of a chair.

"I think we're safe fer th' time... Once we learn more from th' two in Tempest's care, that may change... But m'gut ain't tellin' me one way 'r th' other..."

He reached over and picked up his tea, took a swallow and grimaced as it had gone cold. Setting it down he stood tall and stretched his shoulders.

"Mayhaps I should go check up on thier progress..."

[William Brand]

William turned away from Mister Lasseter or else he might have made a comment or two on the Quartermaster's false starts. Instead his thoughts drifted away at once to more personal reflections, and only when Mister Lasseter offered to excuse himself to further inquiry touching the new arrivals, did William return again.

"No, Mister Lasseter. Let us leave them to the ministrations of the Doctor for the present. I must have an answer to the Jonas problem before I can move on to other matters. Perhaps an audience with Mister Flint is in order?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Aye, it can wait til they be somewhat recovered..."

He then nodded and paced from Larboard to Starboard and back.

"Aye... I do believe Flint be on deck presently... shall I send fer 'im when 'is watch is up?"

[William Brand]

William nodded.

The matter would depend a great deal on Mister Flint. He and Jonas had come aboard together and shared a past and perhaps an animosity that might prevent them from sharing that space forward. The fo'c'sle was small enough, even for those who got along, but let there be enemies together there and the place would not contain them. Fights and even murders were not unheard of before the mast.

William wondered, and not for the first time, how Mister Sons had met his untimely end.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Mr. Lasseter nodded back, then left the captain to ponder... He headed out the ward room dooor and down the passageway, opened the door at the break of the deck and stepped out, turned to face the quarter.

"Master of th' watch! send Mr. Flint to th' Wardroom at the end o' his watch, Cap'n's orders..."

He then headed back to the shelter of the wardroom, shaking off the slight chill. As he passed the Surgery, he heard some murmurings and paused. He wanted to check up on those within the boundaries of the ward, but the captain, in a certain respect, had ordered them to be left in peace til further notice. So with a sigh he instead headed to the Galley to fetch a fresh pot of either coffee or tea to take back into the wardroom...

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

They had maintained rail stance as the survivors were led past and below. A few minutes were allowed to pass before rain sodden companions followed to the Surgery's destination and as the entrance was gain, Chanault reached forward to stay his charge's movement. Tempest cocked a brow minutely and waited as the young Frenchman took lead, entering the medical chamber to pause just within the thresh hold.

The newly admitted looked up in unison to the doorway's occupation, their escort gave nod of greeting. Chanault removed the soaked form of wide brimmed hat to reveal the youthful features hidden by shadow's cast. The intense sights roved over the neophites before he moved to the side to allow his companion into the surround.

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin was startled to see such a young man enter the surgery ward. Handsome with sharp features his pale green eyes scrutinizing the two women sitting before him. Her eyes locked briefly with his. She had nothing to hide but felt if he looked long enough he would see into her soul. She diverted her eyes by looking at her injured hand.

Her attention returned to the door as another figure entered. The doctor she presumed. The figure appeared to be a bit slighter than the first under the rain gear. He removed his hat with one graceful sweep. It was indeed a woman standing before them. She was slight; her deep green eyes and pixyish features were framed by auburn locks. Murin could not recall ever seeing such proud and strong bearing in a woman. Instantly she respected her and felt a sense of relief at her mere presence.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon gave swift and well practiced visual inspection of the two woman handed over to her care. Stepping around Chanault, Tempest removed the length of rain cast wool and offered a smile of warmth in welcome. Raphael retrieved the outerwear, moving to the well worn desk to hang it in addition to his own on accompanying chair.

"Welcome to you both. Judging from your current states, I am sure it is a welcome well received. My name is Doctor Fitzgerald and the young gentleman to the left is my Surgeon's Mate, Monsuier Chanault. We shall do our best to ensure that your constitution is restored to its former standing. I should not wish to harry you overmuch, being that you both look well in need of rest. Never the less, if you would be so kind as to inform me as to how long you have been cast away from proper existance, it would do much in aiding my next actions."

[Silkie McDonough]

“Um…” Murin stammered slightly as she met the doctor’s eyes. “It’s nil been tree weeks yet.” after a dry swallow she continued “We found d’cave f’ter …d’fort er fift dey …I tink.” Her voice sounded raspy and weak. Her eyes dropped, “Too late fer d’gentelman det saved us.” She paused wishing that he too had survived. Setting her resolve she looked at Ana. “She’s nut well, uv been in d’sun fer a few munts but …she’s nut use t’it.” Her eyes dropped to her hand again. Breaking the brief silence she lifted it to the doctor. “I fell on one a’dose wicked plants.” making eye contact she continued. Her eyes danced golden in the lamp light “Gud send once ya get past d’needels.” She managed a weak smile through her cracked lips.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Chanault had returned to former post as the Irish girl relayed past events. He had listened with an aloof manner, mimic to domestic feline in faux disintrest, though all was noted by visual or hearing. The Speaker's companion seemed fit to allow the oratation without interuption, whether induced by exhaustion or other reasonings was yet to be deemed.

The Surgeon coaxed subtly what information lay in grey areas to that which was already assumed, nodding here and there with and expression of empathy. As the young woman's explainations trickled to drought, the soft tone of native tongue played to Jacquelyn's hearing and she in turn gave nod of approval. She pursed her lips in thought as Raphael left the chamber then her focus returned to the young woman and companion.

"I would seem that the order of the day would be proper attire and a light meal for you both, then rest. I am sure that cleansing would be desired, as well...But I will leave that choice to your descreation for now."

She paused in momentary thought before continueing, " I can offer you a safe haven and well deserved rest. Monsuier Chanault will look to your offended apendage upon his return, mademoiselle..."

[William Brand]

William changed his mind almost at the very moment that Mister Lasseter left the ward room. He decided himself to ask after those in the surgery. He made his way forward from the Ward Room, meeting the Quartermaster as he came out of the galley, teapot in hand.

"I have changed my mind, Mister Lasseter. We will ask them some questions together and avoid this chain of communication and have everything in the open at once."

He went to rap gently on the door of the surgery, mindful that the ladies might be undressed in examination, but it opened at once, as Chanault made his exit from the room.

[LadyBarbossa]

"Thank you," she replied in a weak, scratchy voice indicating she was exhausted. Yes, a good rest, something decent to eat and some proper attire other than a shift and the remains of a daydress that barely covered her that was dirtier than ever and her haphazard hair that cascaded all over and wet from the rain. Looking nothing like a Lady.

Her eyes shifted towards the door slowly upon hearing a knock.

[Pew]

::Changing into what dry gear I had, I made my way topside, fearing I had missed the second bell and the Captain's invitation. Reaching the weatherdecks, I ascend the small stairway near the wheelhouse, and peer in the windows only to find the Captain and Mr. Lasseter absent.

"Awww . . . bloody 'ell"

[Dorian Lasseter]

"I have changed my mind, Mister Lasseter. We will ask them some questions together and avoid this chain of communication and have everything in the open at once."

Dorian nodded and followed behind, watching as the Captain knocked on the door that was immediately answered by Chanault, who was actually exiting.

He nodded to the frenchman and recieved a slight raise of an eyebrow in return. Looking past the Captain's shoulder, he saw the ladies was comfortable, and the two crewmen were as they had been before. Woodington knuckled his forelock and tried to back himself deeper into a corner.

[Silkie McDonough]

"Ken I have somtin t’ moisten m’mout? M’wet on d’outside but am utterize parched.” Murin winced as the smile she tried to display pulled at the splits in her lips.

Her attention was drawn to the door as Chanault departed. She could see the man she had faced on the shore and a red haired man outside the door about to enter. Noting the gesture from the man in the corner, she concluded that both men were officers or the like.

She continued to address the doctor. “M’indeed tired but wit dees wet clothes on, I doubt I’ll sleep. Ifin ya could kindly provide some privacy where we could strip down, wash r’selves n’dry off b’for we sleep. Den d’clothing would be dry once we was well rested.” Looking down at what she wore she modified her request. “Actually, a tub fer m’clothin as well as m’self might b’n...” Blushing she stopped short. "M’soory. We’ll be grateful fer a place to close our eyes fer a while.” Her head droped and she fell silent.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon glanced from the young woman before her, then to the other. The were what one could consider an odd combination of duo if one were to consider the obvious and not so obvious revealings in their contrasted poise. The younger of the two was without doubt, of some higher order in social class. The elder of more common origins overtly displayed in accent and enunciation; though the distinctions of age could not be more than a small of years. Jacquelyn pondered if perhaps the elder was a servant of indentured nature to the younger; musings that quickly vanquished with twin soundings of familiare trod from behind.

Without turning her center from newest guests, the Surgeon smiled with reassurance and addressed newest arrivals to Medical Realm. She cut a brief sidelong glance to the flame crowned man and partner. "So good of you to join us, I was correct in my assumption that you would not be overlong in paying us a visit."

The Surgeon stepped to the left, allowing William nearer proximity, "You will pardon my lack of proper manners in regard to formal introductions, for it seems that I am quite unaware of your names..." The deep emerald sights gave a hint of amusement to the situation. "I do, however, believe that you are already aquainted with Mister Lasseter, our Quartermaster, and the gentleman accompanying is the Master of this vessel, Captain William Holland."