squintingbrachyura-blog

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Destan's to do list:

stop dicking around and get some damn work done

keep dicking around and get some work done

continue dicking around and get no work done

bemoan lack of motivation to get work done

Louis' To Do List:

-Play with the ship cats. -Practice maneuvering around the ship. -Bake various baked goods. -The captain. -Groom the ship cats. -Nap with the ship cats. -Read. -Work on secret maps in secret. -Practice linguistic lessons. -Practice handling a sword.

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Well, yeh. Ain't no reason t' leave them anyplace someone could find them. But also paid not t' leave it in a real remote location, just in case the deal turned sour.

He'd left them in a run down stablehouse a little out of town. Theguy guarding the place took note of his apprearence, and after a hurried conversation he doubted anyone in this town would understand (language barriers and all), he had arranged for the boy to keep them there until he returned. For a price of course, but it was little considering how much he assumed they were worth.

"I really don' mind either way." He replies. "Ain't got much t' do anyways. So if y' don't mind a tagalong, I don't really mind comin' with ya."

Dubious items for sale?

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

"Well yeah. I wouldn't think y'd jus' take m' word fer it." He explains. Because really, doin' that would guarentee yer bankruptcy and considerin' this guy, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be that stupid.

Right?

He eyes the bottle. He knows not drinkin' would be rude and suspicious, but honestly, he doesn't want to get off his face in the middle of a deal. But refusing...

Well, he guesses he can probably just drink real slow. Or not at all and just accept it. (Probably the former because hell, what a waste right?

"Yeh, sure. Thanks fer that." He nods, raising his tankard.

Dubious items for sale?

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

He gives the other a baleful glare as he's lead away, further into the treeline and he's real happy the pool of water is a decent size. Heck, they'd probably find fish in there if they really tried for it. Still, with (so far) only one source of fresh water, he wasn;t about to contaminate it doin' anythin' stupid.

...But, well, there was nothing else for them to do but wait it out.

Dammit.

Commandeering Ships | Alois and Destan

Welp, nothin’ more t’ do but make themselves comfortable. Mebbe make the shelter a little more flash, but other than that; it seems like he was gonna have an easy time stranded.

For fuckin’ once.

"So, y’ gonna show me where th’ water supply is or what?"

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Welp, nothin' more t' do but make themselves comfortable. Mebbe make the shelter a little more flash, but other than that; it seems like he was gonna have an easy time stranded.

For fuckin' once.

"So, y' gonna show me where th' water supply is or what?"

Commandeering Ships | Alois and Destan

If the guy was suggesting something with the fruit he didn’t register it at all. Becuase, yaknow, finding fresh water and food? Talk about lucky. Like, really lucky. And if there were fruit there’d likely be birds or small animals which meant meat and also meant possible fish bait.

They could probably hold out here for a long time if it came to that.

"Hey, good job guy. Not too shabby." He replies, impressed as he pats the guy on the shoulder. "Also good news fer us. Jus’ a guess until th’ sun goes down, but m’ pretty sure this here’s a trade route island. Meanin’ somethin’ has t’ pass us eventually.”

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

If the guy was suggesting something with the fruit he didn't register it at all. Becuase, yaknow, finding fresh water and food? Talk about lucky. Like, really lucky. And if there were fruit there'd likely be birds or small animals which meant meat and also meant possible fish bait.

They could probably hold out here for a long time if it came to that.

"Hey, good job guy. Not too shabby." He replies, impressed as he pats the guy on the shoulder. "Also good news fer us. Jus' a guess until th' sun goes down, but m' pretty sure this here's a trade route island. Meanin' somethin' has t' pass us eventually."

Commandeering Ships | Alois and Destan

Oh. Well that answers that, he supposed.

"Made a fire hole n’ a shelter thing on th’ beahc if y’ interested." He replies, waving back behind him. "But hey, fresh water? Ain’t that lucky fer us."

Because hell, fresh water was a rarity and he had his fair share of being stuck on islands, let me tell you what.

"Find anythin’ else?"

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Oh. Well that answers that, he supposed.

"Made a fire hole n' a shelter thing on th' beahc if y' interested." He replies, waving back behind him. "But hey, fresh water? Ain't that lucky fer us."

Because hell, fresh water was a rarity and he had his fair share of being stuck on islands, let me tell you what.

"Find anythin' else?"

Commandeering Ships | Alois and Destan

Kindling done.

Shelter thing, done.

Now he’d haveta locate food n’ water and that guy. Hopefully he weren’t dead. Or, if he were, he had the decency to die somewhere convenient so he could use parts of his corpse to fish or something.

"Hey! Alois, y’ alive r’ what?" He yells, beginning his search trampting through the trees along the shoreline.

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Kindling done.

Shelter thing, done.

Now he'd haveta locate food n' water and that guy. Hopefully he weren't dead. Or, if he were, he had the decency to die somewhere convenient so he could use parts of his corpse to fish or something.

"Hey! Alois, y' alive r' what?" He yells, beginning his search trampting through the trees along the shoreline.

Commandeering Ships | Alois and Destan

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Considerin’ this were a sealed fuckin room, he doesn’t know what the fuck th’ other dude’s thinkin Ain’t no ventilation in here, and he really don’t wanna die of smoke inhalation. (Nevermind that fire made him real fuckin’ uneasy, and his eyes couldn’t quite leave the flicker of a flame as the man lit the pipe.)

The cat’s a little distractin’, but he shoots the other a incredulous look when he speaks.

“C’mon guy, I ain’t fuckin’ stupid. Ain’t no such thing’sa free ride, n’ I ain’t ‘spectin’ one. But yeh, m’ willin’ t’ hook up with ya fer a bit.”

‘Sides, there was a better chance he’d find what he was lookin’ for with a crew this big n’ considerin’ the size of the ship; they probably got around. Hell, goin’ solo hadn’t turned up anythin’ but dead leads, so mebbe a crew was what he needed. Might as well give it a shot, right?

The stack of papers made him a little wary though (yaknow, considerin’ th’ last stack of papers basically signed their grandad’s freedom away, or at least, that’s what his ma always said) and he’s  got it in his head enough to read over the damn thing before signing it.

“Lemme read it first guy. Ain’t told me nothin’ about terms ‘f service, years ‘f service r’ nothing. Gimme a sec.”

Retroactive | Diethelm | Destan

Eh? How fuckin’ drunk was this guy last night? And was the proddin’ really fuckin’ neccessary?

"Destan." He  replies blandly. "Y’ tol’ me I could sail with ya, ‘member?"

He hopes he does. ‘Cos as much as he doesn’t mind swimmin’ n’ shit; he’d rather avoid swimmin’ back to shore right now. Still, seems like a light sparks behind the guy’s eyes n’ he recalls somethin’; ‘cos he’s bein’ real friendly and draggin’ him int’ his cabin.

But hey, ain’t much for him to do but take a seat n’ see how it goes.

"Do I look italian, guy?”

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

'Esteemed Sir'? Hell, that was a new one. Still, he ain't gonna correct th' guy 'cos why would he. Ain't no harm in it.

"'m th' one askin.' He replies plainly. "'n I got m' hands on some armour, yeah? Ain't nothin' worng with it 'cept ain't real patriotic that I have it. 'N m' pretty sure we both know what folks around here do about guys fiddlin' with heathens."

Especially if the fella doin' the fiddlin' looks like a heathen.

Dubious items for sale?

Well, he ain’t really interested in liftin’ the guy’s shit so much as tryin’ to sell the shit he already has. Still, he sits his ass down n’ doesn’t care t’ glance at the journal (why should he care, really?) rather take a look at the guy’s dressin’s properly.

Yeah, this guy probably had some cash to spend. But he ain’t too fussy r’ strapped fer cash t’ try fer moren’ what the things were worth. On the other hand, he wasn’t so cheap to sell it for less neither.

"Word is y’ liketa buy shit ain’t no-one else wants ta buy." He starts, drumming his fingers on the table. "S’at true?"

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Well, he ain't really interested in liftin' the guy's shit so much as tryin' to sell the shit he already has. Still, he sits his ass down n' doesn't care t' glance at the journal (why should he care, really?) rather take a look at the guy's dressin's properly.

Yeah, this guy probably had some cash to spend. But he ain't too fussy r' strapped fer cash t' try fer moren' what the things were worth. On the other hand, he wasn't so cheap to sell it for less neither.

"Word is y' liketa buy shit ain't no-one else wants ta buy." He starts, drumming his fingers on the table. "S'at true?"

Dubious items for sale?

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Eh? How fuckin' drunk was this guy last night? And was the proddin' really fuckin' neccessary?

"Destan." He  replies blandly. "Y' tol' me I could sail with ya, 'member?"

He hopes he does. 'Cos as much as he doesn't mind swimmin' n' shit; he'd rather avoid swimmin' back to shore right now. Still, seems like a light sparks behind the guy's eyes n' he recalls somethin'; 'cos he's bein' real friendly and draggin' him int' his cabin.

But hey, ain't much for him to do but take a seat n' see how it goes.

"Do I look italian, guy?"

Retroactive | Diethelm | Destan

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Rudely, not so much considerin' he's balled up under the blanket enough that only his hair's showin'. And he doesn't know what the next guy on shift is thinkin', but he's very gently, if nervously woken up.

Acourse, he's outta there fast when the guy gives him a good lookin' over, and he grumbles as he clambers down the mast just in time to see the rest of the crew spring to life.

The anchor is drawn up, the riggings are loosened and the sails are set loose, the galley lurching forwards and moving onwards and out of the bay. He himself helps out with the mainsail, along side a spotty kid who grins far too much and kinda gets on his nerves when he thinks Destan don't know how t' let loose the sail. He weren't new t' this, yaknow. Still, he ain't too keen on a fight this damn early, so he lets it slide and soon enough they're out in the open sea. Miles and miles of stunning blue streching out across the horizon.

A'course, as soon as everythin' seems to be going smooth, most of the crew decide to get going with... whatever it is they usually do.

And, of course, Destan is wonderin' if there's anythin' he should be doin'. Sure, when yer alone 'n you gotta take care of a whole ship, there ain't no time to be bored but now with all these people, he's really at a loss.

Retroactive | Diethelm | Destan

….

Well then.

Left alone on the deck where he could easily re-enter the captain’s rooms, slit his throat and fuck off long before anyone cared? That was real fuckin’ dangerous, really. Not t’ mention the crew didn’t seem t’ be on high alert.

Which of course either meant they were all fuckin’ stupid, or that the Captain was well able to take care of himself. He suspected the latter.

Still… there weren’t anythin’ really t’ do fer now but wait. After all, this place was his ticket to th’ next port of call n’ beyond if he played his cards right. So ain’t nothing mroe t’ do than wit fer th’ morning. It’s a good thing the crows next looks empty from below, and after clambering up the mast (because a childhood of cleaning chimneys would make you a keen as fuck climber) he finds that there is even a blanket and lamp up here. Possibly for the guy on duty t’ take a nap without havin’ t’ go down.

Which, really, suited him just fine. It was better t’ watch the stars from up here anyway.

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

He eventually turns up a good lead which dumps him in front of an unassuming alehouse and board. It's not much to look at, nothin' too excitin', but once inside, it's clear that whoever ran this place knew what they were doin'.

Still, he weren't there to admire the decor, now was he?

Some dude with 'outlandish' clohtes huh? The only guy that fir that description was the guy in the corner. So hell, might as well start there.

He makes his way over, carefully 'cos you dunno what kinda shit guys'd pull nowadays, and lingers by the empty seat opposite the man.

"Hey buddy. Ain't anyone sittin' here, right?"

Dubious items for sale?

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

Dubious items for sale?

Okay, so while selling scimitars was one thing, selling other types of heathen weaponry and atrifacts were another thing entirely. While the construction of Moorish armor was a far cry better than anything they had here; selling or even having it for anything more than the spoils of war was kinda...

Frowned upon. Heavily frowned upon. Frowned upon while you were chucked in jail or killed for it.

Still, he had three sets of near flawless armor burning a damn hole in his temporary hideout in this town, and he really did need to get rid of it.

He had, of course, heard about a guy who was more n' willing to buy interestin' shit. And he didn't care where the fuck they came from. Perfect really. But a little too convenient. Still, nothin' venutred nothin' gained.

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

....

Well then.

Left alone on the deck where he could easily re-enter the captain's rooms, slit his throat and fuck off long before anyone cared? That was real fuckin' dangerous, really. Not t' mention the crew didn't seem t' be on high alert.

Which of course either meant they were all fuckin' stupid, or that the Captain was well able to take care of himself. He suspected the latter.

Still... there weren't anythin' really t' do fer now but wait. After all, this place was his ticket to th' next port of call n' beyond if he played his cards right. So ain't nothing mroe t' do than wit fer th' morning. It's a good thing the crows next looks empty from below, and after clambering up the mast (because a childhood of cleaning chimneys would make you a keen as fuck climber) he finds that there is even a blanket and lamp up here. Possibly for the guy on duty t' take a nap without havin' t' go down.

Which, really, suited him just fine. It was better t' watch the stars from up here anyway.

Retroactive | Diethelm | Destan

[squintingbrachyura-blog]

He woke to the feeling of bugs crawling up his arms. To say he paniced was an understatement, and it took him a good while to track down all the creepy crawlies and dispose of them. He had no idea what posessed him to cover himself in damn leaves, but he can't even remember doing so.

Glancing at the shoreline, he finds the other man was gone. Probably had woken up and decided to check out... whatever it is they landed on. Or been washed out to sea. Either way, the guy'd return when he felt like it, and he weren't no babysitter.

Fire... First things first, he recons.

Shaking out the pack he had taken off the ship before he bailed, he sound two, slightly wet flintstones. Good thing about flint, don't need t' bother if they got wet. Leaving them out to dry, he wanders along the treeline looking for somethin' t' use fer kindling.

Commandeering Ships | Alois and Destan

He had found the guy and pretty much dragged him out of the water onto the first solid patch of land they crashed into. The guy was out cold though, and his dead weight was slowing him down, and makin’ Destan real tired.

Still, the first rays of sunlight were reaching over the horizon when he dragged the guy far enough onto the beach to be satisfied he wouldn’t wash away. He leaves the guy facedown in the sand out of spite.

He collapses, exhausted by the treeline, having dragged himself up enough to avoid the sun’s rays, and had promptly fallen asleep.