My arm's aching, back's breaking, legs aching neck
And this whole ruddy ship is a huge creaking wreck.
We've flown ten thousand miles with this thorn in our sides,
though the wind's steady strong with no clouds in the skies.
The ropes creaking, ship's leaking, sails are on fire,
and this whole bloody ship could go up like a pyre.
We've got smiles on our faces, but we've seen this before
No telling just now what we have in store.
The back-stabbing, loot-nabbing plans behind doors
Running low on the rum and they're bleeding our stores
Can't tell who's on our side and who's ready to flip
When we hit the next port the whole crew could jump ship.
The storm rages and rages, and as the crew does their best to keep the ship together, the Captain is smiling wide as he clings to the wheel. The storm seems to go on for days, and by the end you're exhausted and you've lost two men overboard. You managed to pull Caz back aboard before he disappeared beneath the waves, but Toaster has disappeared without a trace. It's not the first hand you've lost on this journey, and you doubt it will be the last.
You've been out for a month, now, and you're still not entirely sure what you're doingg here. You spent some time in the Carribean, waiting on many closed door meetings with troubling whispers and indecipherable shouts as the Captain inevitably lost his temper when he realized that the person he was talking to knew nothing about what he wanted... or refused to tell him, if they did. It's hard to be sure.
You've since swung far south, and the Captain has given every indication that you'll soon be swinging round Cape Horn. Beyond that, you're as in the dark as the rest of the crew.
But what you do know worries you. You know the ship is falling into disrepair, and the Captain's refusal to fix it at your last port might have something to do with the fact that this voyage apparently wasn't as well funded as you'd been lead to believe. You know the Captain has taken to whispering to himself as he strides around the ship, with a wild look in his eyes, eyes surrounded by dark circles that convince you he hasn't slept in days. You know the sort of people he brought aboard to interview were characters who were, themselves, less than trustworthy - that Ewe-speaking Vudu priest, Nubueke, he'd brought aboard was the worst of the lot, not sharing a language with the rest of the crew and constantly lurking about in the shadows. Captain must have got what he needed out of the guy, though, because one of the crew, Mephansteras, accused Nubueke of being a fake who could speak French perfectly well and knew jack and shit about Vudu, Nubueke out and stabbed Meph several times in the chest, leaving him bloody on the deck, and the Captain had Nubueke tied up in chains and forced to walk the plank.
So that was the end of that.
Understandably, there'd been some worried murmuring among the crew. Somehow, word got back to the Captain. He held a meeting where he threatened and cajoled in equal measure, until Leafsnail stood up and said what we'd all been thinking - he asked where we were going, and when we could expect to head home, why the ship was in such poor shape, and what exactly the Captain's plan was.
The Captain responded by shoving him into the mast, before ordering several of us to hold him down. Then he pulled out his flog, and just went to town on the poor fucker, reducing Leafsnail to a quivering, teary-eyed mess. By the time he was done, Leaf wouldn't speak or even look the rest of us in the eye, and hasn't since. The man's spirit is just broken.
Tensions are high, and you've got a sinking feeling that it's going to get worse before it gets better... but at least the storm has finally begun to calm down. And when it does, well, the muttering might just turn into planning, and this ship might just head on home minus one very prominent crewmember...
Day 1 Begins. Day Ends in 48 Hours.
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followed by a later post: Caz
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Topic: Worse Things Happen at Sea... Game Over: Loyalist Scum Wins (Read 51388 times)