User:Nextoy/Pirate Thing/Prologue

A lone pirate ship had been afloat at sea for months now and yet they’d just recently found a stowaway. One they knew hadn’t gotten on the ship at port, but somehow snuck on during her voyage. The captain thought to himself how thankful the lad must be that they’d already known each other. Even in his drunken stooper, he knew that rules had to be enforced if he wanted to keep a mutiny from happening.

In fact, this young lad was someone they’d had quite the interest in. Though he hadn’t been on the ship in some time, or perhaps because of it, the captain had taken this opportunity to have his men do some digging into the boy. Specifically what happened to him before he first joined their crew.

His most trusted crewman entered the captain’s quarters holding up some papers. Though he was bandaged up from their most recent fight, he was still able to work as a member of the crew and fulfil his duties. The captain offered up his reading glasses, and the bandaged man took them happily.

“Alright Ratman, what’d you learn of him?” The captain spoke without much of a slur, as even though he was rarely sober he hadn’t been drinking nearly as heavily as usual. However, even when he was sober it’d be hard to tell exactly what his accent was. While it would be clear to anyone listening to him that he’d been from somewhere among the British isles, exactly where would be hard to discern from voice alone.

“Well,” The crewman spoke with a thick Mexican accent while putting on the reading glasses. “This is the person you thought he was, far as I can find out. With… about as troubled a past as we had anticipated.”

The two shared a solemn look, not able to meet each other’s eyes. They had already known what kind of life he’d led. The confirmation wasn’t something that was welcomed. Though they weren’t religious or spiritual men, they’d have prayed and preformed whatever sea ritual for this kid to not have lived such a life.

“Go on, then.” The captain ordered, with Ratman reading off the paper.

“He grew up on one of the small islands dotted around Cuba with a single mother. Her husband, a sailor, had been long since missing by the time she had succumbed to illness. They say her illness was caused by stress from raising a jaded child and her husband’s sudden disappearance.” He explained, turning to a different paper.

“Thankfully, her son was around during her death. From what I can tell, her last words were love and reassurance. She always knew her husband would one day return to care for his son.” The crewman stopped, looking up at the captain for a moment before he was motioned to read on. “After that his whereabouts get more muddled. From what I could find out he spent much of his time working at a priory and in secret drinking his sorrows away. From there he joined an American crew, which he stayed a part of until he joined us.”

With that, Ratman put the papers down on the desk and took off the reading glasses, handing them back. “Finer details are written there, Captain. That’s merely the broad strokes.”

“Aye, that’s good enough.” The captain waved off the crewman. “Bring the boy in then, will ya? He hasn’t been locked up in the hold, right?”

“No sir. As per your request, he’s been integrated back into the crew. Not exactly a popular decision, mind you.” Ratman informed.

“Yeh, I figured. But he’s one of us, innit he?” The captain retorted, motioning for the crewman to take his leave. And so Ratman nodded, going to seek out their returned crew mate.

For a time, the captain was left to his thoughts. Was he happy to be reassured that this was the exact person he thought it was, or angered that it took him this long to find the kid? Furthermore, was it even his place to be a part of the kid’s life, knowing that lad’s been bouncing from ship to ship like ill gotten plunder his entire adult life?

Plenty of questions flooded his mind, but all were halted by the door opening.

“Ever heard of knocking, lad?” The captain asked, turning to look at the door.

“Apologies. I heard I was called, and came quickly as I could.” The boy seemed rather excited to be here. This surprised the captain. Not from the excitement, but because there was a sweet toxin dripping from this sailor’s words that seemed out of place. “What can I do for you, sir?”

Even the polite phrasing felt like something waiting to pounce upon him.

“I want to know what ye’d been up to. It’d been some time since ah last seen ya, lad.” He answered. Whatever venom this crewman tried to spit at him would be met with idle chatter, but not a lowered guard.

“Oh, have I stories. Where to begin, I wonder…?” The sailor asked, sitting down in a vacant chair.

“How about with the part of what ye were doing between getting off me ship and getting back on?” The captain snarked, not caring for whatever game the crewman was playing at.

“Oh no. I think we should have an important talk.” The cuban smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Besides, we can always pick this up later if we get attacked, right?”

With a sigh the captain resigned himself to listening to whatever tale this kid had to say. “Fine. Speak what’s on yer mind, just don’t take all day.”

“You see, when I was a child I had two fathers. One who died from disease long before I could gain memories of him, and the other was this drunken scoundrel of a sailor. The kind of pirate that gives your folk a bad name, you see.

“He had this lovely habit of coming home drunk and fighting with my mother. Though he never laid a hand on me directly, I suspect that was through negligence more than anything else. The abuse was directed at her. It was only when he was away at sea that we’d get any relief, and even then she ran herself ragged trying to make ends meet.

“This wasn’t a good place for a young boy like myself to grow up in, you must understand.” He took a break from the story to gauge his captain’s response, which remained neutral as far as the cuban could tell. This annoyed the crewman, but not enough to halt the story entirely.

“Thankfully, at one point he just stopped coming back. Oh, but our troubles did not leave with him. No they did not. In fact, they’d only just begun. Y’see, with his sailor’s income gone we’d be quickly evicted. Other than roaming the streets as a whore, which was not work my mother was willing to do, we couldn’t make ends meet. Oh, and how quickly she began to succumb to illness as well.”

“Why’re you telling me this, lad?” The captain asked.

“Don’t call me that. I’m in my 20’s, so I’m no boy.” A glare and harsh tone were quick to respond, dodging the question entirely.

“Alright, fine, answer me and I won’t.” The captain figured this to be a fair deal.

“All in good time, Captain. For now, I’ll say that I just wish to put my faith into you. I am exposing my every secret into the silence of this room.” The two exchanged an understanding look as the captain refrained from further comments.

“So I lived on the streets for a few years after that until some holy men took pity on me. Now I’m no believer, never have been, but cleaning pews and floors for coin wasn’t a bad gig. Got me a place to stay, a day’s meal, and a night’s drink.

“That was until they realized that I’d been spending my money on sweet, savory sin. That cost me my job for sure. But all was not lost, y’see. Right when my money was about to run dry, I finally caught a break. This man captained a ship he called the Fortunate Son. American pirate hunters.”

With that a noticeable wince came from the captain. Pirate hunters weren’t friends of his, and the Americans were all insane as far as he was concerned. Putting the two together was like a bad fever dream waiting to happen.

“Now at first I was reluctant, you must understand. Becoming a sailor like that man who claimed to be my father seemed like a punishment more than anything else. But that captain was a good man, and he was able to convince me onto his side. If memory serves me right, the conversation went a little like this…”

And so the captain listened in on what he was sure would be quite a long tale from a boy who’d no doubt seen too much in his life.