3rd Wave

[tentacruelest]

[Jones is a deep, deep sleeper but he wakes with the sunrise. Each day is a new, hellish experience on the Barge but he scowls and stomps his way through them regardless.

Imagine his surprise when this morning he opens his door - releasing a small flood of his usual seawater, which, thanks to Maintenance, is contained by a make-shift dam - and spots children running about.

Not the handful of children he knows to be part of the Barge. New ones. And smaller people are easier to bully than full-grown ones.

Resolving to go about his day unbothered by the mechanics of the Admiral, Davy instead storms his way to the mess hall, literally using his claw to forcefully swat aside anyone smaller than four feet]


I'll thank whoever remains their true, full size to keep the vast majority of whelps under control. I've a mind to toss them over the side one by one; no ship is in need of this many cabin boys. No navy is.

Mind your brats. Or I will.

Comments

[tentacruelest]

It is cursed.

[He doesn't really mind the little little ones, Davy. Only the ones who are old enough to be brats]

[impure_tale]

[Donatien is apparently mirroring the movements with his fingers held under his chin. Doesn't seem to be a mocking act; he's genuinely curious.]

What's that?

[tentacruelest]

[At least Davy can sense when he is and isn't being made fun of. He sees the motion, and idly stirs his beard up a little stronger in motion in response]

It means that once upon a time I had done something terrible and something terrible in return was done to me.

[impure_tale]

Why don't you say you're sorry?

[tentacruelest]

Because I am not sorry.