Well-armed

Maarten de Vries M - 32 - Cold Blooded Merfolk Sailor/smuggler for Hire Icon by: Trevo

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[softinspirit-blog]

Flower Girl

Josephine’s time was to be spent in the nearby by port town, having set up a small stall with a collection of fresh and pressed flowers she wished to share with people. Even though she didn’t have a steady, consistent job, this made her extremely happy, as well as being able to help her maman out with expenses. 

It was just teetering past the morning, the sun beaming down and heating the flagstones beneath her feet. As she stood, waiting for curious eyes to sweep over her gifts, she rocked on the balls of her feet absentmindedly. 

That was, at least, until a group of human adolescents came trawling through, sneers on their faces. She was wary of them, of course, but since meeting that Gilbert boy she knew not to judge them. Maybe they were nice?

Of course, Josephine’s wishful thinking was to be rejected, and one of the boys began to laugh as he sneaked up to the stall. He nabbed a couple flowers, knocking the vase over in the process, before speeding back to his group of friends. A small cry left her lips in protest, and she was reaching out to the boy as she fluttered over to him. 

“Hey! You can’t just steal-”

Before she could say another word, another boy decided to play along with the cruel game, shifting to her stall and messing up the arrangements. 

@smokkelmeerman

[smokkelmeerman-blog]

Maarten was finishing his rounds around the market. Ordering rations, nets, various other things, the usual supplies needed for a couple of weeks at sea. He counted himself lucky for the good weather, and the relatively smoothness with which he had been able to do his morning business. 

At least, till he heard the distinct sound of ceramic hitting the flagstones, and a small voice protesting soon after. 

Thieves? Perhaps regular scoundrels? Well, it wouldn’t hurt to gather some goodwill in the port town. 

“You heard the lady.”

He laid a heavy hand on the shoulder of the boy who had grabbed the flowers, easily towering above the adolescent. 

“I’m sure you were going to pay the sweet girl, were you not?”

[crasnicul]

Stowaway.

[smokkelmeerman-blog]

crasnicul‌:

Well, if one is going to suffer a death by murderous pirates, one might as well piss off the hottest of them all. “I am really really weak and defenseless, my hot friend. I am no use for mopping, I’m afraid my nanny used to spank me every night over how useless I was- Still am, I guess.” Mihai offered a little cheeky grin. 

His hand gently caressed the pirate’s face, again. “Maarten, that’s a good name. Matches your glare.” 

“If you really must know, my name is Barthelemy du Lac and I am your humble servant.” And Mihai made sure to pucker his lips as he said the name, to sound even fancier. “Metaphorically, of course.”

Maarten reached out to touch his cheek, mimicking Mihai’s own gesture in a way, gentle at first, before pinching, lightly pulling on his cheek. 

“Alright, Mr. Lacky. We’ll see how many skills you ‘lac’.” Maarten commented, a little amused. “See if you might be some use yet.” With a small squeeze, he let go off his cheek, ushering him forwards slightly as he did. 

“Let’s go introduce you to the captain.”

[crasnicul]

Stowaway.

[smokkelmeerman-blog]

crasnicul‌:

Mihai couldn’t help but huff and puff. Surely the man was about five entire miles taller than himself, he still couldn’t afford to look any bit more frail than he already was - stuck in the middle of the ocean, there were not many places Mihai could run to if the situation went poorly.

“What, and you don’t think mopping is considered manual labor? What is this, prison?” He offered a light cheek pat to the other guy.

“What’s your name, big guy?” Mihai wasn’t even making eye contact anymore, he was too busy fidgeting to fix his clothes, displaced by the rough collar grab. “I wasn’t really hurting anyone, you see.”

Maarten raised a brow with the change in his demeanor. Did the guy just pet his cheek? The nerve. 

“Too weak for mopping even? Be happy we don’t throw you off the side, hm?” He gave Mihai another look over, wondering if the boy might be too much trouble after all. 

“Maarten. We’ll make sure you earn the rations you’ve already devoured, ... “ He eyed Mihai questioningly, waiting for a name.

[crasnicul]

Stowaway.

[smokkelmeerman-blog]

crasnicul‌:

Mihai’s fingers held a tight grip on the hand keeping him up, just in case the sailor decided to drop him unceremoniously. He struggled a bit to find footing on his knees, in order not be so chokey. 

“Well, I can assure you, I am a most excellent worker but I have very little upper body strenght, I mean- Look at me!” Anything but manual labor, Mihai figured. Taking a second glance at the man holding him, Mihai started noticing how handsome he really was. 

Mihai smirked a little, and one of his hands made its way down the sailor’s arm and up his chest. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

Maarten gave him another look over, surely there wasn’t much more muscle hiding under the many layers of cloth, cloaks and blankets. Well, the dirtiest chores hardly needed muscles anyway. 

He raised a brow at his last statement, somewhat amused. 

“We can figure something out.” He loosened his grip on his collar, instead grabbing the man’s shoulders, and lifting him to his feet. “I’m sure those scrawny arms can lift a mop.”

[crasnicul]

Stowaway.

According to his research, the crossing would not take longer than a week. Mihai’d lasted longer than that with less food than he had on him right now, and considering where he found himself hiding, food would be the least of his worries. A ship’s basement had food to last many months at sea. No one saw him climb on board, of that he was sure. 

He shifted a little against his blankets. According to his own math, two days were behind him, which  meant likely five or six more to go. Easy enough. Mihai allowed the calm rocking of the ship to lull him into sleep. 

He could have sworn he had barely closed his eyes when someone grabbed him by the collar and jolted him awake.

[smokkelmeerman-blog]

–

The journey had been uneventful so far, clear skies, calm seas, brisk winds. If only all jobs were this easy. 

Maarten had been on his way to collect some sacks of food from the hold, pushing some barrels out of the way, when he spotted something out of place. The trespasser might have gone unnoticed, had the tuft of dark blonde hair not peeked out above the makeshift burlap blankets. 

Great. A stowaway. He crouched down in front of the man, watching his peaceful slumber. 

Suppose he could scare him a bit first, before dragging him before the Captain. 

He roughly seized his collar, jerking him forwards a little, grip firm enough to ensure the man knew he meant business, face just a bit closer than necessary. He waited, making sure the other had properly blinked himself awake and looked him in the eyes before continuing.

“You hiding a boarding pass under those blankets?” 

[crasnicul]

Mihai couldn’t help but let out a faint little surprised gasp. It still felt too early both in the day and in the overall trip to be found out like this. “Ungh- Before you do anything, don’t hurt me-” It was almost an automatic reaction, Mihai wasn’t even fully awake as the mumbled words left his lips. A bandaged hand instinctively shot up to hold the grip on his collar, red eyes meeting dark green ones in a quiet plead. 

“I could be useful, you know. No need to throw me overboard just yet-”

[smokkelmeerman-blog]

-

Maarten held him, threatening, knowing full well they weren’t going to drown the stowaway. De Ruyter was a fairly upstanding vessel, though the captain was likely to hand him to the authorities if he got too hard to handle. 

Still, it was good to scare the twerp just a bit, make him rethink his actions. 

“You say you’re better at working than you are at hiding?”  He gave him a glance over, rather skinny, and upon closer inspection, tired looking, for someone who had be presumably sleeping in the hold for the past two days he sure had some dark circles under his eyes.

“Give me a reason to keep you around.” 

[crasnicul]

Stowaway.

According to his research, the crossing would not take longer than a week. Mihai’d lasted longer than that with less food than he had on him right now, and considering where he found himself hiding, food would be the least of his worries. A ship’s basement had food to last many months at sea. No one saw him climb on board, of that he was sure. 

He shifted a little against his blankets. According to his own math, two days were behind him, which  meant likely five or six more to go. Easy enough. Mihai allowed the calm rocking of the ship to lull him into sleep. 

He could have sworn he had barely closed his eyes when someone grabbed him by the collar and jolted him awake.

[smokkelmeerman-blog]

--

The journey had been uneventful so far, clear skies, calm seas, brisk winds. If only all jobs were this easy. 

Maarten had been on his way to collect some sacks of food from the hold, pushing some barrels out of the way, when he spotted something out of place. The trespasser might have gone unnoticed, had the tuft of dark blonde hair not peeked out above the makeshift burlap blankets. 

Great. A stowaway. He crouched down in front of the man, watching his peaceful slumber. 

Suppose he could scare him a bit first, before dragging him before the Captain. 

He roughly seized his collar, jerking him forwards a little, grip firm enough to ensure the man knew he meant business, face just a bit closer than necessary. He waited, making sure the other had properly blinked himself awake and looked him in the eyes before continuing.

“You hiding a boarding pass under those blankets?” 

[marineexplorer]

Not impressed - Macroctopus maorum octopus surrounded by fish larvae #marineexplorer by John Turnbull Via Flickr: Bicheno, Tasmania