Down in one of the berths, Strawberry Joe is lamenting a set of new pots and pans which had been wrecked by the boarding party. He's so loud I can hear him from up on the top decks. Just look at this one. Are you looking? Look at that dent- and that blood will never come off. Ruined.
Someone suggests to the loud mouthed steward that he should be thankful it was his pan and not his skull. Shake my head. Joe, you bastard, if you weren't such a damn fine cook, Captain himself toss your sorry hind parts over the rail. Or maybe send you over to make dinners for old Bones-aparte instead.
Speaking of Captain, he's up on the quarter deck, fighting with the quarter master over a fallen mast. Wrestling with the surgeon who's trying to bandage up a bloodied, epaulet barren shoulder. Trying to get the memory of a soft swinging hammock which he ain't seen in three nights to sit down and shut the hell up. Which it won't. Great seaman. Great man, really. Every man-jack among us proud to sail under such a great man.
A fella's leaning over the rail looking like he's about to be sick. Red hair, blue eyes, and seeming sadder'n'a beat dog. His name is Bran or Breg or some other fucking Irish name which not even great God above remembers. It don't strike me right. Tell him stand tall on deck or go below. He sulks his Irish ass down to lower decks.
Singin' in the sick berth. An American. We took near thirty of 'em on after we killed nearly all the boarding party. Their Captain, first lieutenant, master's mate dead. Rest of the warrant officers dead or in holding down below. Can't tell if the man singin' is dyin' or if it's a friend, but I can hear him over the holystones scrubbing the deck.
“-Going home, my savior smiles and bids me come, and I don't care to stay here long-” Stop listening. Don't care to stay here long, go on and leave then, stop pluggin' up my ears with your racket. Not that I don't sympathize with the poor bastard. It's that fucking accent he's got. And their damn sense of pride. Go thinkin' since they won one war they win 'em all, when it was the God damned French what won the war for 'em.
Start humming Heart of Oak, see if I can't get some good British tune in my head, in place of that George Washington lover. Laugh, as Martin, who's sitting sown in the sick berth tells the American to “shut up, where are his fucking manners?”
Move off to glare at a group of snickering midshipman. Call it a watch.
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125,005 Literary Works • 672,805 Reviews
Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),
Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!
Anyway let's get right to it,
Well this is an interesting one. We've got an immediate sense of camaraderie from these description and we get the idea of this describing some sort of mildly crazy crew of some sort of pirates going about their business in their own eccentric ways. It isn't exactly described quite this way but the sort of vibe this exudes just happens to be along those lines so I'm intrigued to see where this is going.
Well that took a bit of an interesting turn there, now with a little more information it looks like we've got ourselves something of a war based situation here with more to do with soldiers. I can definitely see how this vibe fits in with that, and well already we've definitely gotten so much out of what this character is life just in some of these descriptions. I think you're doing a wonderful job here making us curious about what's going on here and introducing us to these characters.
Hmm well that was an interesting ending, it sort of simmered down there ever so slightly towards and we are still mostly in the dark. It also doesn't quite seem like an ending, more like it was just cut off halfway so I'd look in there a little more. But as far as the start of a story goes, this is wonderful.
Aaaaand that's it for this one.
As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.
Stay Safe
Harry
Hiya!
Quotes: It is of the utmost importance that you put quotes around all dialogue. If somebody is speaking directly, you must use something to show that somebody is speaking directly! You can separate the dialogue with a dash and put it on a new line, you can use normal quotes, whatever, but you have to have a way readers can tell somebody is speaking directly.
Situation: Here, I am very confused. In the first few paragraphs, you say there was a battle. You also say that everybody is sailing under a "great man." Well, what makes him so great? Why do people think that? What was the result of the battle? Who is getting stitched up, the captain or somebody else? Even though the MC's summery of what's going is amusing, with the tone, it's hard to get a grasp on what exactly is going on.
Repetition: I noticed some repetition here. Like "quarter deck" and "quarter master" right on top of each other.
Rating: A note on rating: If a work contains the f-word, it must be rated R.
Overall: I was very confused by this. It's unclear what exactly is going on, and who is doing what. The MC's tone is a redeeming quality of this, because it is amusing to read through hit voice. But the situation has me baffled.
Questions? PM me.
~Rosey