#naval times

[mystery-star]

Whumptober 2023 – Day 24 | “I thought they were with you.”

Characters: Jack Aubrey, the crew

Words: 1377

 Warnings: mentions of death and injuries, swearing

A/N: Day 24 for Whumptober, today’s prompt: "I thought they were with you”

-

Jack angrily kicked against the door of the cell he had just been locked in, letting out a string of curses. His crew was watching him warily but they knew it was better not to approach him right now. Having had his ship taken by a French privateer was already almost too much for him. But that the Captain of said ship also needed to taunt him and knock him over the head when he had won already had drastically worsened Jack’s mood even more. But alas, there was nothing he could do right now except making sure his crew was here and safe. Which wasn’t that easy, considering he was locked up with only about twenty of them and he could not see outside, except for that small, barred hole in the door and so didn’t know who else was being brought into other cells of the brig. And maybe it would have been better to wait until the French seemed done with getting all their prisoners locked up but whenever he heard someone come, the officer would shout, asking who it was and who was with them, trying to keep track of who was here already and who was still missing. Or who had died.

After almost an eternity, it seemed like everyone was locked up in the hold and yet Jack was still missing a few people. Among them Stephen. There was a nagging feeling inside his mind that he could not explain the doctor’s absence because he had not even been in the battle and therefore couldn’t have been harmed there. If he was missing did that mean the French just killed him? Someone else asked who was missing and Jack started listing names, feeling relieved that it turned out two of them were here nonetheless. But Stephen remained unfound. Instantly discussions started about who had last seen him and where.

“I thought he was with you!”

“Why yes, he was. Then he went back for his supplies”

“What supplies?”

“Has someone seen the doctor back in sickbay? Or seen him being taken?” the discussion got louder and louder until a French sailor seemed to have enough, knocked against one of the cells and demanded silence. Jack watched him and unbeknownst to the sailor he was lucky that the gaps between the bars where too narrow for Jacks arm to pass through or he might have found himself in a death grip from the blond captain.

“Oi. You! Stop right there!” he yelled after him instead “Where’s the doctor? Our doctor. Le docteur? Ou est?” the man he was talking (or better said yelling) to didn’t react and continued walking away from Jack’s view “Darned son of a whore! Poxed little piece of shit” still unimpressed the Frenchman started talking to a colleague and Jack was seeing red, continuing to hurl insults at the man, every now and then asking about Stephen again.

-

Five days passed and there still was no word of Stephen and the other four people, except for one that had been confirmed dead. Jack continued to pester anyone who dared to come downstairs where the rest of his crew was but was blatantly ignored. Although he would never admit it everyone knew that he was very worried about his best friend and were certain that if Jack found out that someone had hurt the doctor he would make him pay hell.

But then they finally seemed to have reached a port and despite the missing crewmembers, Jack was most glad that he finally got out of that ship’s hold and smell fresh air again, even if it only was for a short time until they’d contain them at a new place. At least this time the cell was bigger and he found himself in one with other crewmembers too, so he could personally ascertain they were alright, which luckily was the case most of the time except for a few little wounds or fading bruises. Those that were not in such a good health had been treated by their fellow sailors as best as they could and yet Jack still tried to get a real doctor to have a look at them. (And of course still insisted to be told that had happened to the crewmembers that were still nowhere to be found). But of course no one did a thing or even answered. For another two hours Jack waited, hoping that maybe the missing people would just turn up, perhaps having been critically injured and in sickbay but then he slowly started to lose hope. After all it was not uncommon that someone went overboard during a battle and even if they were good swimmers it was likely that they drowned. Somehow, Jack knew that a part of him had already accepted the fact that this probably was what had happened, considering that no one even said something as if they didn’t know what he was talking about. And yet there was a part of him that refused to believe it until he had proof, which of course was almost impossible to get. So he sat down and leant his head against the wall, unsure what he was supposed to do now. Well, there wasn’t much he could do really except waiting until they were freed.

A few days later – the crew discussed whether it had been three or four, maybe even five, since no one knew for certain – the big surprise came. A small figure entered the prison they were held in and it soon turned out to be Stephen. As soon as they recognized him the whole crew jumped to their feet and asked him where he had been and what had happened. One of the first to do so of course was the Captain, holding onto the prison bars as if his life depended on it. Stephen looked around in confusion.

“What is the matter with all of you?” he asked

“What the matter is?” Jack almost laughed in disbelief “We all thought you dead, dear doctor”

“Dead? No” he adjusted his glasses “Why no, I am very much alive, as you can see”

“You have been missing since the battle”

“Well no, I have always been on the ship”

“And where?” Jack was almost shouting now but he didn’t care. Although he was more than relieved to see his best friend unharmed a part of him just wanted to grab and shake him for daring to disappear just like this and not even letting them know he was fine.

“Taking care of the wounded of course. As it turned out their own surgeon was not of much use so their Captain wanted me to help and has been most generous and grateful”

“You mean to tell me that while we all were worried about you, you have been living your best life?”

“No, not quite. But it has been adequate. I thought you knew they would ask me for help”

“No one would tell us anything!”

“They didn’t?” Jack gave him a glance

“Do you think I would pester you with all these questions if I knew?”

“Oh, fair enough” he gave a nod “Do tell, my dear, how have you been? I trust you have been treated alright?” now Jack said nothing but instead the crew started telling him what had happened, which wasn’t much of course but no one could really complain. And soon they were asking if perhaps he had an idea what happened with the men they still didn’t know of. “They are in the hospital”

“You mean they’re alive?” Jack cried

“Barely have been but they will all make it”

“Why thank goodness” Jack breathed, for the first time in days feeling pure joy. Yet there was a still nagging feeling inside him that was mad at his friend for not just letting him know that he was alright. Then again it had not been his fault and surely had not been allowed to see them on the ship and didn’t know that no one had told Jack about his whereabouts. No, he decided, there was no reason to be mad at his friend when he just was so excited to see him well and up and about.

#whumptober 2023 #no.24 #i thought they were with you #master and commander #fic #battle mention #death mention #age of sail #naval times #aubreyad #jack aubrey #stephen maturin #hms surprise #aubrey maturin #aubrey maturin series #aubrey #aubrey-maturin #boat media

[ltwilliammowett]

The modern replica of a 4th Century BC Athenian Trireme. This beauty has been named the "Olympias" and is actually a commissioned Greek naval vessel.

#naval history #naval artifacts #replica #ancient times #trireme #4th century bc

[hrtgallant]

tangentially related but the show really makes it clear that flint is a naval strategist. pirates usually preferred firing at speaking range and any manouvres that were quick and easy while this gay clown wakes up on his miserable little cot every morning and puts on the red nose already concocting the most convoluted battle strategy possible. I bet silver took one look at the walrus' guns being unloaded cleaned and shut with a lead apron and went 'that cunt must be ex navy no one here would care this much about powder safety.'

#makes me want to write a fic about it. #5 times captain flint Knew stuff about naval warfare #black sails #james flint #captain flint

[thecountofs]

My Time In ONI (design works)

- 88th Shock Battalion

- Nate B111 in Hayabusa in the Mk. I Powered Weapon Platform (Reactivated)

#odst #orbital drop shock trooper #my time in ONI #office of naval intelligence #halo fanart #halo fan works #halo art #unsc #hayabusa armor #mjolnir #spartan armor #halo mecha

[thatsbelievable]

#What to do if You Wake Up Only to Find Yourself Having Traveled Back in Time and Now You’re Sitting in an Armored Crow’s Nest #on an Old-Timey Naval Vessel #tips #tricks #life hacks #helpful hints #advice #time travel

[sinisteryuri]

ok. tragically separated wwi era vampire twins.

#seabirds.txt #seabirds.art #mystery twins #gemeos do misterio #q!bagi #q!cellbit #qsmp #i did research 1920s era clothing for this but i based a lot of it off of their mc skins. #cellbit is a sailor turned vampire who ended up in europe during wwi after fighting naval battles at sea and never came home #bagi becomes a journalist to find him and stumbles across vampires along the way not realizing he had become a vampire too #design notes: this all started off of bagi's newsboy cap which was popular in the 1920s with working men. i put her in men's pants because #wanted to give this energy of working a job traditionally not worked by women at the time. <- women started campaigning to work as #journalists notably around the late 1800s and early 1900s (at least in the us and some european countries (couldnt find info on brazil)) #i was thinking of nellie bly when thinking of what bagi would be doing in this au! she also has a bandana to hide her neck where her vampir #bite would be and a hanky for blood clean up. perhaps something from home. cellbit is not concerned with hiding his own neck. he's just #wearing a dress shirt LOL. i feel like cellbit would be fully embracing his vampiric tendencies at this point and a part of more vampire #society than human while for bagi it would be the other way around (she's still looking for him in the human world using vampire resources) #that is why he is so bloodstained. i feel like in his free time he would be freelancing detective work for other vampires maybe to gather u #favors or something similar. he's a little bit fancy because of this but still casual enough that there's no suit involved.

[clove-pinks]

HMS Trincomalee, at the National Museum of the Royal Navy, Hartlepool.

A Leda-class frigate like HMS Shannon, she was built in Mumbai (Bombay) by master shipbuilder Jamsetjee Bomanjee Wadia, who lived c. 1754-1821 (Wikimedia Commons).

It was Wadia who ceremonially hammered a silver nail into Trincomalee's keel, following Parsi Zoroastrian tradition. I'm fascinated by the melding of global maritime traditions.

#hms trincomalee #age of sail #royal navy #naval history #jamsetjee bomanjee wadia #yeah i'm going to mention shannon every time i bring up a sister ship #maritime history #we rightly condemn imperialism but empire by its definition combines different cultures #i love the shipbuilder's portrait #the sea

[demi-pixellated]

Freij

Freije Known for their fringed ears, thick dark hair, and natural resistance the frigid temperatures of the north. Freije seals take on a white or pale-blue hue, contrasting against their dark skin. Typically asymmetrical and unique to each individual, they have been widely (and fittingly) remarked as resembling snowflakes and frost, consisting of radial pattern of crystal-like markings.

Matriar The military and naval prowess of Freij is recognized across Elothia, and its Matriar reflects that. As Leader and Admiral, She dons the military vestments of the region, although ornamented and embroidered to indicated Her regal station. She also carries on Her person, just as the officers under Her, a dagger and sabre. Typically these would be highly decorated commissioned works, much like Her chokha and kalpak. However the current Matriar has forgone the tradition, preferring to don and wield the standard arms of her men. As Impero recently saw a Patris leave the throne, Freij is likely to see one on theirs in the coming centuries as the current Matriar has only one son and seemingly no interest in bearing another child.

Czars State officials and Generals to Her Majesty. Much like the Matriar, Czars are outfitted in military garb and keep a dagger and sabre on their person. While still decorated to denote them as officers of import, it is not to the level of the Matriar.

Citizens Despite the high tolerance to the northern climate that they have become known for, Freije are born incredibly susceptible to the cold. Newborns are heavily swaddled in thick furs and kept indoors for the most of their first year. Even when younglings are finally able to be brought outdoors, they do so thoroughly bundled up, almost comically, in several layers of thick clothing and furs.

It's not until adolescense that the Freije's cold tolerance truly begin to build up. They begin to strip away their heavy coats, scarves and furs, and many, many, layers as the years proceed, and by their first century the typical Freije can brush off the low temperatures with far lighter apparel. To the outsider experiencing the bite of Freij's Spring chill for the first time, they may even look underdressed.

In opposition to this are the region's wealthier merchants, barons, and city officials. Setting themselves up at higher altitudes, far above the crowded docks and fish markets, even their natural resistance isn't quite enough to keep out the colder mountain winds. As a result, upper class Draken remain relatively bundled up well after maturing - a fact that's earned the ridicule of many common folk, thinking it make them look childish.

#Chronicles of Cassendenia #Matriar Lynorre Tark Freij #Johann Tark Freij #Baerg #Guardian Drake #Freije Drake #Elothian Drake #OC #CoC ref #MSPaint Draw #Next stop the Frost draken or as they shall now be known: the Freije #I lost the loving feeling i had with the gen naval officer look because it left me hung up on how to handle the citizenry #so this time around i took insp from Cossack uniforms and Ukrainian folk costumes and now we're cooking with gas #also real shit: not to sip to deeply of mine own cool-aid but #the Freije drake maybe the sickest thing i've ever designed and possibly ever will design #if it never gets better than this fucking Unit than i'll be AbSoLutely fine with that #it's like: humpback whale+walrus+galapagos iguana and i think i love it to death #the imperian i think is the easiest to draw for me but the freije - ughhh 😩💕 #i always knew it had the potential to be cool as shit and i am finally a strong enough artist to make it a reality

[ineffabletwaddle13]

Holmes and Watson doing a chemical analysis together

Holmes in the books by Arthur Conan Doyle does a lot of chemistry experiments:

The Adventure of the Copper Beeches: “Holmes was settling down to one of those all-night chemical researches which he frequently indulged in, when I would leave him stooping over a retort and a test-tube at night and find him in the same position when I came down to breakfast in the morning.”

The Sign of the Four: “He would hardly reply to my questions, and busied himself all evening in an abstruse chemical analysis which involved much heating of retorts and distilling of vapours, ending at last in a smell which fairly drove me out of the apartment. Up to the small hours of the morning I could hear the clinking of his test-tubes which told me that he was still engaged in his malodorous experiment.”

A Case of Identity: “A formidable array of bottles and test-tubes, with the pungent cleanly smell of hydrochloric acid, told me that he had spent his day in the chemical work which was so dear to him.”

The Resident Patient: “while he was deep in some of those abstruse chemical investigations which absorbed him utterly as long as he was engaged upon them.”

The Adventure of the Dancing Men: “Holmes had been seated for some hours in silence with his long, thin back curved over a chemical vessel in which he was brewing a particularly malodorous product”

The Naval Treaty: “A large curved retort was boiling furiously in the bluish flame of a Bunsen burner, and the distilled drops were condensing into a two litre measure. My friend hardly glanced up as I entered, and I, seeing that his investigation must be of importance, seated myself in an arm-chair and waited.”

I like that this Holmes and Watson do the analysis together :) I think it makes sense that Watson could help when it is a time-sensitive situation because he should know some chemistry from his medical studies, although most of the time Holmes does the experiments himself because it is his hobby

#noticing how many times Watson complains about the smells in the books #1954 sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #ronald howard #ronald howard holmes #doctor watson #holmes and watson #the case of the reluctant carpenter #the adventure of the copper beeches #the sign of the four #a case of identity #the resident patient #the adventure of the dancing men #the naval treaty #1954 sherlock holmes/ACD books #arthur conan doyle

[croziers-compass]

Imagine getting told that you're dumb and stupid because you're interested in polar explorers and you're looking to buy a book on 19th century naval charting and magnetic readings.

#personal ramblings #this actually happened and the concept is wild to me #my interest in naval history makes me stupid? #you bet it does. #I'm so into 19th century polar Explorers that it makes me look stupid #we banned him of course. but not without laughing at him the whole time #i posted the book I wanted and he asked “are you fucking kidding me?” to which I politely replied “I am completely serious.” #and then he proceeded to ridicule my intelligence and berated me about how dumb I was #and I am fondly thinking about it

[ltwilliammowett]

Half hour sandglass from the wreck of HMS Invincible, before 1758

A sandglass was a method of keeping time at sea, this helped keep track of watches on deck, regulating life on board. During sea passages, the naval watch system divided 24 hours of the day into six four-hour watches with half the ship’s company on watch and the other half off duty. Each four-hour watch was marked every 30 minutes by ringing the ship’s quarterdeck bell.

After the first 30 minutes, one bell would be sounded; thirty minutes later two bells, and so on up to eight bells at the end of the four-hour watch. The circular ends are all made of turned oak marked with a large broad arrow.

The vertical posts are made of pine. The two bowls are separated by a brass control disc with a small central hole and bound together with a sail maker’s whipping.

#naval artifacts #sandglass #time keeping #aboard ship #hms invincible #before 1758 #age of sail

[johnlockifconvenient]

Every time Sherlock Holmes has to sit in a chair normally, he is in agony

#zero times has he ever sat normally if he was alone or with Watson #can relate #also I think it’s so sweet that he feels comfortable enough in front of Watson to sit weird and make his pillow forts #letters from watson #the naval treaty

[thecountofs]

My Time In ONI: Full Metal Brat

After the Insurrection arc, you'll get to meet The 1st Infrastructure and Bookkeeping Field Team, and their 'Tertiary Negotiations' Specialist: Nate-B111 (or 'Nova')

#halo #my time in ONI #chapter 2 #halo webcomic #office of naval Intelligence #spartan #section iii #agent jane doe #fireteam halo #halo fan art #halo fanart #unsc #halo fandom #united nations space command #odst #spartans #webcomic

[catominor]

honestly i need to develop my guys' political careers and general shenanigans prior to their becoming friends more. the kinds of freakish activities they would do.. i need to come up with some weird bullshit lfc does as some kind of mos maiorum flex a la cato going shirtless. i need to come up with some weird bullshit martinus spent an exorbitant amount of money on in order to have a memorable feast or something. theyre everythingto me

#also still toying with the idea of their having known each other when they were younger? #because i think itd be funny if martinus remembered lfc while lfc does not remember his ass at all. important to note here that lfc used to #be considered very attractive (in a sort of.. feminine way?) when he was young #ficposting #also unrelated but need to still research ancient naval warfare stuff cause when theres War Stuff in the book i want there to be a #naval battle really bad. (me seized by my old naval stuff interest rn: but what if they were .on aaboat (dies) #if they both were itd be funny cause i just know lfc's ass is getting violently seasick the entire time. because he cant win<3

[clove-pinks]

'H.M. Steam frigate FIREBRAND and the Experimental Squadron': c. 1844-1845 print (NMM).

Detail, with the sails unsurprisingly furled under full steam. Henry Thomas Dundas Le Vesconte referred to Firebrand as "this monster of a steam ship" in an undated 1844 letter to his sister Rose, when he briefly found himself aboard her before joining HMS Superb, also in the Experimental Squadron. Superb makes his official naval biography in O'Byrne (his last ship before joining HMS Erebus), and I believe this letter in the archives of Newfoundland and Labrador is the only proof he spent some time aboard Firebrand.

"ROSE" is written at top right, and Henry begins

My dear Sister, Mamma scolds me for not writing to all of you.  I hope my dear sisters will not attribute it to want of regard for them but first if I write to Papa I know that the letter will be read by all tho so often am I far removed not only from you but from all our friends that I have little to say which can interest nor in common. I have to thank you for some very kind letters while I was away from England, to which you will find I have returned not much improved in fortune but a good deal older yet I fear not much wiser. I am going again but I do not know exactly where. I have been of course anxious to be employed since my return for they sent me on shore on 4S a day.

He offers to sail "with a squadron of new vessels who were to have their respective qualities tested," and is sent to join Superb, but somehow ends up on Firebrand:

I found myself sent to Plyms. to join the Superb. On arriving there I was sent back to get men for her at Portsmouth and as soon as I got back again I was ordered to Plymouth to join the Firebrand steam ship of the first class. The vessel I had previously wished to go out in - this was done in a mistake Sir Wm. G who is good natured but blundering - having fancied that he had promised this appointment to me. I spent three days at Southampton and at [illegible] I might having remained as long as I dared do I left a childrens party at Mrs. Blanchards, I have heard Mamma speak of her, and came alone cold dispirited and miserable to this monster of a steam ship - where I now am.

(Archives of Newfoundland and Labrador)

#1840s #henry thomas dundas le vesconte #age of steam #royal navy #henry le vesconte #franklin expedition #hms firebrand #naval history #age of sail #naval art #steamship #paddle steamer #tumblr has destroyed this post oh so many times #why do you hate poor henry le vesconte #i would include more of the letter but it keeps giving me error messages #'I have returned not much improved in fortune but a good deal older yet I fear not much wiser' #relatable htd le levesconte

[conceptalbon]

galex, 1.2k words, golden age of piracy au

inspired by @boxboxlewis's pirate captain daniel from some time ago

The crew find him adrift at sea. He looks very much out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb and trying to row against the waves in a tiny boat. It would be funny, were he not half-dead with hunger and exhaustion. But that has always been George, hasn't it? A fighter 'til the end, determined to a fault.

He's in no state to fight four well-fed men at once, though. Alex takes care of his people, thank you very much. They grab George by the shoulders, search him for weapons. He still has a handkerchief with the Union fucking Jack stitched into it tucked into the pocket of his trousers. Lando almost guts him then and there, Alex barely has the time to yell at him to keep his fucking hands to himself. He hasn't seen George for almost a decade, but if he's anything like he was in his teens, he must be the biggest fanboy queen Anne has ever had. Which explains the handkerchief, but can also be a fucking death sentence in these waters. Pirates don't really take kindly to the British crown these days.

His frilly linen shirt is ripped at the collar, but he doesn't seem to have any life-threatening injuries. Alex intends to keep it that way while George is on his ship, at least.

"He's worth more alive, Lando. Not a fucking hair falls off his head without my permission, capisce?" There's no way he loses George forty seconds after getting him back. "Surely there's someone back in London ready to pay a pretty penny for your safe return, eh, posh boy?"

Alex isn't sure if Lord Russel is still the Admiral of the Royal Navy, but even if he isn't, he will do almost anything to get his boy back. That Alex knows.

George's head turns to him slowly, his eyes red-rimmed and muscles weak. There's a spark of recognition on his face, but before he can say anything Alex orders, loud and blunt. "Put him in my quarters. There's not much free space on the Bull, and I want to look after him myself." He grins in a way he hopes looks menacing.

The sheets on Alex's bed aren't even remotely close to what George is probably used to, rough and stained from months at sea. His skin is pale enough to almost blend in with them, and the bruises around his eyes look even harsher in the dim light of the captain's quarters. As soon as Lando and Pierre lower him onto the mattress, he's out like a light. When they were at the Academy, he was always the first one to fall asleep, too. It's funny how some things don't really change.

Yuki is ecstatic to have an excuse to work on something besides their usual fucking rations. George is lucky they found him only a few weeks into their journey, because when Alex walks into the galley he's greeted by the smell of an honest-to-God stew. With some proper spices in it even, something Pierre picked up on a Dutch merchant ship two months ago. When he tells Yuki some random prisoner isn't really worth trying that hard, all he gets in return is a single too-knowing smile.

None of the others seem to pick up on anything though, maybe only that Alex is more restless than usual throughout the day. He snaps at Daniel, who has spent the better part of the morning trying to mend a huge rip in their old sails and failing miserably. He's good at that, sewing and fabrics and whatnot. Fashioned them a new flag some time ago, two bulls in front a bright yellow sun. Pierre despises it, says it reminds him of old captain Christian too much. Alex doesn't really mind it. Hopes Christian is happy in his retirement. Also hopes to never fucking see him again.

When George finally wakes up, well into the evening, he's greeted by a bowl of reheated stew and a poorly hidden look of concern on Alex's face. Even in this miserable state, he's still just as beautiful as he was when Alex left him.

"Blimey, the Heavens sure know how to play a joke on me, huh?" His voice is hoarse and the words sound like they hurt. He sits up, winces. Takes the spoon from Alex's hands.

Alex is suddenly very angry. "What the fuck are you doing here? You got a deathwish or something?"

George is meant for the safety of London. Sitting in some general's headquarters, rising up the ranks, maybe fighting the Dutch once in a while at the very worst. He's not supposed to be alone in the middle of the Atlantic fucking ocean, getting picked up by Alex's crew two weeks after they leave the Bahamas. If he died from, like, malnutrition or Lando's sword or something, Alex would throw himself into the sea.

"Didn't really care for the Navy after you left." It sounds nonsensical. George has always passed all of their exams with flying fucking colours, the bright future with the Royal Fleet all but guaranteed for him, being his father's son and all. It was Alex who couldn't really give two fucks about the Academy, the King or the Navy. "Hated the whole court thing, too. London and the fancy lot of them. Was very boring without you. And then, uh- And then father decided I had to marry, so. I ran."

Alex knows the feeling. When he left at seventeen, there was nothing he wanted more than to get away from fucking London. Well, besides George. But he has always wanted George, and he has always known he could not have him, not in any way that matters. There was no place in London for Alex besides George's embrace, and no place in the world for George besides London.

"So you decided to go to America in a fucking rowboat?" Alex needs time to process.

"Don't be stupid, Alexander. I sailed with a merchant ship under a fake name, I'm not insane." It sounds like the most insane thing George has ever done, actually. "Got caught by a hurricane a few days after we left Haiti."

None of what he's saying makes any sense and Alex doesn't really know what to answer, so he stays silent. Watches George eat his fucking stew. He didn't think he would ever see him again. He wants to grab him, shake him until he gets some sense back into him, wants to topple him back to the bed and kiss him senseless like he did eleven years ago. He thinks he forfeited that right when he chose the freedom of Christian's ship over the suffocating warmth of George's bed.

He leaves the room with an empty bowl and goes back to the deck. The waves look black in the evening light. Pierre is sitting with his back against a mast, singing to himself softly, sharpening his cutlass. Daniel and Lando are playing cards, their laughter and curses cutting through the salty air. Sebastian is nowhere in sight. Alex has no idea how he's going to explain to any of them why they are suddenly changing course tomorrow and why they are now tasked with delivering this strange prisoner to the colonies safely. He hopes they don't mutiny against his ass. God be with him.

#galex #alex albon #george russel #formula 1 #my fic #aa23 #gr63 #and they were roommates (at the royal naval academy in the late 1600!) #fun fact the admiral of the british navy at that time was actually named sir Russell lmao #this is the first fucking thing i ever published besties i am scared shitless ngl