the more I read about Trafalgar the more absurd it gets. Like Victory running into the ONE guy who decided "fuck it we're not getting any gunnery training in port so I'll put all skillpoints into boarding and snipers"
MOMENTS BEFORE THE BATTLE Beatty and the guys are like "sir PLEASE consider taking some sort of cover or at least take off your Star and stuff they will shoot you on sight and you're our special little guy we don't wanna lose you" and Nelson goes "wtf no" and proceeds to roll up right next to Snipers Georg
I teased this like six months ago… heh 😅 (@wouldntyou-liketoknow tagging you bc I feel you’d be interested in this 👀)
Warnings: mentioned trauma, mentions of alcohol
- sometimes, your captain acts just a little odd. You’re used to it by now, though.
Sinking Iron; The Captain’s Log - entry 1: Gumusservi
You found the captain awake at an ungodly hour, standing by the ship’s railing like a shadow, staring at the light of the full moon glistening on the calm ocean waves.
You thought about asking him what he was doing up this late, but decided against it. Your captain was a bit of an elusive man, and if he didn’t want you to know what was running through his head at any given time, you wouldn’t be told.
Now seemed like one of those times, whatever he was thinking about as he gazed morosely into the sea was, by his logic, none of your concern. And he was right, it wasn’t.
Still, it was hard not to be curious as you snuck back to your quarters, trying to avoid making any loud footsteps that would alert him to your presence. The only time he’d ever opened up to you was during that horrible storm a few months ago, admitting that the roiling sea made him nervous, and that when he was only in training - like you were now - his ship had been attacked by a horrible beast from the deep. You weren’t sure if you fully believed that - he had been drinking rum when he’d told that story, after all. But something about the hollow fear in his eyes made you inclined to think he was telling the truth, and the whole truth.
As you entered your sleeping quarters, there was a quiet squeak, and a ghostly flash of white brushed past your legs. The ship’s cat, Crumbs, flitted across the small room and jumped onto your bed.
You smiled, crossing the room to join him and sitting on the edge of the mattress to pat his soft head.
“What’s going on with our captain, eh?” You asked in a whisper, “why do you think he’s acting so strange tonight, little fella?”
If Crumbs had any sort of answer, he didn’t give it, blinking his big blue eyes in the moonlight filtering through the porthole over your bed.
Then he jumped to the floor with a little chirp, striding back over to the door with his fluffy tail held high in the air, and only paused for a second to look back at you over his shoulder, his eyes like topaz stones, before leaving you again.
