🤒 – caring for them when sick/injured [ for theodore! bc i read shit about the captain taking on the ship’s surgeon’s duties in the absence of a surgeon in emergencies so Here We Are ]

Theodore was not brought low by much in life, but not even an indomitable spirit could overcome the grim reality of fever at sea. He had become dreadfully delirious, and had it not been for the quick action of Silver he would surely have fallen to the churning sea, convinced that it was a familiar lagoon in which he so often swam.

Now he was sequestered in the safest place aboard for a man as sick as himself, and with the fever somewhat breaking he registered the burden he was placing upon Flint by being here. In true fashion, he had gotten up with every intention of making it up to the man by getting right back to work, but the world had lurched and the next thing he knew, he was staring up at his newfound captain’s slightly mismatched eyes with a dim awareness of being held down.

“I suppose I am no good just yet,” He agreed amiably, surrendering easily enough to his position if only because he was too bone tired to argue. “I think the fever is breaking though.” He remarked, unaware in his hopeful reassurance that he sounded like death warmed over.

“Let’s talk about what you want.” [ for theodore! ]

{ Profound & Emotional | Always Accepting }

It had been a most unfortunate shift in the relationship between himself and Aaron. The realization of the man’s intentions had – to say the very least – come out of nowhere. It was impossible to deny the implications when he had awakened, his head still stinging from the blow it had been forced to absorb, bound and gagged in what appeared to be a ship’s storage.

It was not the first time his uniform in combination with his youth had brought about the conclusion that he was a man of gentry – a fortune clothed in purchased authority as opposed to a man who had started at twelve and worked his way into position through honest labours. It was, however, the first time anyone had gotten quite so far in their attempts to profit from it.

Aaron had not thought his actions through entirely, it seemed. He had been discovered and now, brought into a private discussion with the man who was not only responsible for releasing him from the bonds he’d been trussed up by, but for the sanctity of this entire crew, he found himself in a most unique position for adventure he’d never quite considered before. The Navy was not the only way to live life by the sea, after all – and it was not as though he could ask pirates to leave him in a safe harbour without risking themselves, either.

He turned it over in his mind, the whole of this situation, quietly rubbing feeling back into the numbness of his fingers as he chased debates until he found the answer most suitable. As always, it was the truth – he had never been a man for lies – but perhaps it was a bit too much of the truth for a question that perhaps had been seeking a simpler answer.

“To live a life that leaves behind no regrets is all I have ever wanted — and for that, I have always found myself relatively prepared for the strange twistings of fate life can sometimes bestow upon people.” Easing his gaze up, he took this time to observe Captain Flint thoughtfully. He had heard of him, naturally – a pirate so infamous as he was hardly going to go unheard of in Port Royal, where he was one part hero and one part monster, depending on who was spreading his legend at the time.

It was interesting to note, that in all the stories that spoke of his eyes ( some saying they glinted silver when he killed a man, others going so far as to say they turned as red as his beard ) not a one saw fit to mention they held differing hues. As always, it was the truth that was more captivating than the stories and their embellishments, which furthered Theodore’s appreciation for honesty.

“In this moment what I want is to know how I can be of service on this ship. There is no room on board for idle hands, this I know quite well. I am afraid your man was mistaken in thinking I would be very profitable – my position was not purchased, and the only money to speak of in my family is what I send home to my sisters, and what they manage through sewing clothes for rich women who are quite unlikely to pay for a man they’ve never met. Sympathy can be purchased, that much is true, though as I would rather die than have my sisters trade themselves for me – that leaves my worth in what I am capable of as a sailor, as opposed to what I can be sold for.”

Apologies Mean Regret

intolerablexsacrifice:

~

_{He supposed it made sense, given Theodore’s other unusual traits: there was a certain kind of logic to accompanying a tactile nature with the unabashed civility and kindness Theodore had treated his new crewmates with thus far. The young man wasn’t the only person on the ship inclined to such touching, either, not by a long shot- the difference was that he had touched Flint.}

_{In itself, it wasn’t unpleasant. The startling, Flint felt, was only natural. It was the other thing that bothered him- the strangeness of being touched, the way the sensation lingered like his body wanted to keep it in memory for as long as possible. It had nothing to do with Theodore himself and everything to do with a more general sense of physical deprivation Flint had thus far tried to avoid acknowledging in himself.}

_{Then there was the question of authority, and what the rest of the crew might think of their captain being shifted aside by Theodore, of all fucking people. That felt far less significant than the rest of it- but it was more comfortable to think about.}

_{“That’s certainly one way of putting it.”}

_{Flint was not just watching him now, but observing. There was a suspicious look to the mismatched eyes, piercing and unyielding. Theodore had not drawn outright attention to Flint’s reaction, and that was a mercy- there wasn’t a chance in Hell he hadn’t noticed how badly the captain had startled.}

_{Flint did not yet know what to make of that.}

_{“The men on this ship are accustomed to keeping their guard up at all times, Mr. Groves. Things like that-” He nodded to the man himself, though referring to his actions. “-are far more likely to be interpreted as an attempt at reaching for a man’s sword or pistol than an innocent attempt at moving them aside.” Then, lightly- “A warning in advance might diffuse that possibility.”}

Theodore shifted the rope in his hands and – though his posture made it clear he was still listening in the way he remained angled toward the captain – began the process of reeling it down to aid the man on the other side performing the same action. The shift in his role aboard a ship had been sudden, but a body did not forget the labour simply because it had not been tasked with it in some time.

That he had a role at all here was something he took both seriously and with great gratitude – he knew he owed what work he performed to Flint’s decree, and that was not something he meant to forget any time soon. What interested him the most though, was the fact the man seemed inclined to think he was still fearsome to a man who was presently profiting from his sense of honor and mercy.

Wrapping the rope as Flint concluded his lesson, Theodore considered his answer carefully. There were many things he could say here – some wise, some simply respectful of the situation – but in the end he could only say that which felt the most true to himself. The captain deserved to know what kind of man he now had in his employ, for better or worse, and it wasn’t in Theodore’s nature to shroud himself in secrets and lies, or actions that were more wise than they were honest.

“That is true of men aboard every ship, captain. It is not unique to the Walrus, or even to pirates.” Theodore knew pirates were rarely the monsters papers made them out to be – too many men were pressed into service, too many were exposed to tyrannical captains, too many were robbed of honest wages – for that to possibly be true. It was not uncommon for a man to go on the account and find his way back into legitimate business — if they were monsters, how then, could they return to being men so easily?

Concluding his work, Theodore set the now coiled rope to the deck and turned to face Flint squarely, elbows leaning against the balustrade of the deck as he considered him thoughtfully. “If I were to live in fear that every touch could mean a pistol, I would consign myself as other men do and never touch at all. I’d rather risk the shot, than live my life with that much inconvenience. Besides,” He pointed out, smiling softly, “It doesn’t always end that way — and for those odds, it seems worthwhile to maintain my usual behaviour as opposed to altering myself to suit the comforts of those around me.”

Apologies Mean Regret

@intolerablexsacrifice continued from [x]

Some things came without thinking – Theodore was generally the sort of person to act precisely as instinct dictated to be the quickest route to something he wanted, which could at times lead to interesting collisions such as this one. As a very tactile man, it was not uncommon for him to touch people simply out of habit – and with ships being so loud, it was generally easier to gently adjust someone than to shout at them to step aside.

That said, sometimes the response was poor – and even dangerous. He felt the captain jolt under his touch, though he did not do more than keep a steady eye on him and maintain the directing contact. This served the dual purpose of showing he was not alarmed by the reaction, nor was he going to reveal to anyone that it had been strange by responding to it in any outward fashion.

Releasing the man as though nothing strange had occurred ( and as if he could not see the confusion that contorted the man’s features ) Theodore set to work releasing the rope he’d been directed to manage. It did not occur to him to apologize for the action – and indeed, were it not for the clear discomfort on the features of the man who was, for all intents and purposes, now his commanding officer, he might not have said anything at all.

“I take it you’re used to people waiting?” He offered, his tone more curious than judgemental. Captain Flint was not the first man to startle like a horse under hand, nor was he likely to be the last. What mattered now was determining the cause for it – if it were a matter of authority, he could respect that well enough but knowing himself, would likely forget unless there was something more significant attached.