Ocean Eyes, Storm Cloud Minds

Chapter Five

The dark-haired male, leant against a box, gestured towards the short brunet beside him. Despite the darkness of the armoury, which only had two windows, the Cuban boy could see almost every feature this boy had. His face, short and round, was splattered with patchy freckles and spots of redness from exposure to the sun. His messy hair lay in matted clumps below his ears, seeming to fluff outward and giving his hair a puffy or messy appearance. Bangs hung over his forehead, loose and unkempt. Lancelot subconsciously wondered whether or not people here even knew how to comb their hair.

Dark bags were under the boy’s deep brown eyes which shined golden like honey where they caught the light from one of the portholes, his sleek and long eyebrows were only slightly darker than the hair on his head. Neither of them said anything for a few moments while the brunet pushed his round spectacles up the bridge of his nose.

The odd thing about the silence was that it wasn’t tense, as Lancelot would have expected it to be. Awkward, yes, but not tense. They all seemed to be quite casual or carefree around each other. One hand extended to Lancelot, the boy finally broke the silence.

“Pascale Avem. Nickname’s Ivy,” he greeted with a small grin, showing symmetrical dimples on each cheek. Nodding, Lancelot grasped and shook the male’s hand. They were rough and his grip was surprisingly firm.

“How old are you?” He questioned before he could stop himself. The correct response was to give his own name, but evidently he’d f****d that up. Pulling his hand back, Ivy laughed.

“Seventeen, ‘hardly young as I look.” Eyes widening, Lancelot seemed taken aback, which only confused the two beside him. “What- What do you mean, seventeen? You’re kidding, right?” His little sister, Veronica, was seventeen and he couldn’t bear to imagine her somewhere like here. Luis was just turned eighteen and already a part of the trading company. Lancelot would only hope that they’d not cross paths.

Ivy suddenly frowned, folding his arms over his chest. His brows furrowed as he looked up at Lancelot.

“‘Scuse me? First ya don’t even tell me yer name n’ now yer accusin’ me of lyin’?” He questioned, seeming irked by the conversation despite how it’d only lasted a few comments. Feeling his face heat up with indignation, Lancelot spoke.

“s**t, right, sorry,” he muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing downwards anxiously. “Lancelot. Nicknamed Blue, and I didn’t mean anything rude by it. I swear!”

For a few moments, Ivy seemed to keep the stern gaze on his face, before his face split into a grin and he burst into laughter. “No need to worry yer little head too much, Blue! As long as ye don’t underestimate me, we’ll get along well! After all, I was the one what knocked you out!” He announced proudly. Subconsciously reaching up to brush his fingers over the bruise, Lancelot glanced to Ivy’s shockingly muscular arms.

Not only was he incredibly muscular at such a young age, but his build was so feminine it was surprising he was welcomed. Ivy’s pride only seemed to grow and he puffed out his chest proudly. “Bruisin’ should be gone in only a couple er days, Blue! You’ll be ship-shape in no time.” Dandé and Ivy seemed to share a giddy moment in response to the comment before

It was only a matter of moments before the weak conversation finally died and Dandé, happy that the two of them were getting along well, nudged Pidge again. The differences between the two of them were striking, though they were both quite clearly close friends.

“We’d love fer yer ta stay n’ chat, Ive, but Lancelot may just be on borrowed time. Why’d ya come in here?” He questioned, a warm smile on his lips. His voice was calm and gentle, and though Lancelot wasn’t sure how his siblings would have reacted to being hurried out of a conversation to be gotten rid of, Ivy didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’d forgotten why he had entered until he’d gotten such a polite reminder.

He nodded a little. “Well I dropped off me spike a moment ago ‘cause I broke it n’ I need me a new one,” he said as he looked at Hunk, his eyes almost pleading.

“Ye’ll need to make this one last a li’l longer this time, Pas, ‘cause I’ll get in trouble if we run outta spikes ‘cause you can’t stop yerself from testing things n’ breaking ‘em.” He grinned a little, reaching down to ruffle Ivy’s hair. Wait, was he supposed to refer to them with their nicknames or real names? He’d stick with the nicknames, they seemed like a smart choice.

“I’ll try,” chirped an amused Ivy as he watched Dandé take the spike from the rack and hand it over. Snatching it close before the offer could be revoked, Ivy called a thanks and scampered out of the room to wherever he was needed to be.

They left the room after only half an hour longer, just while Dandé supervised him and made sure he was cleaning safely or correctly. Once satisfied, they left. The door was locked behind them as they left, approaching another door opposite the armoury without any locks, the cannon room.

The walls of the room were lined with cannons and barrels or boxed filled with countless cannonballs, stacked as high as possible without toppling or compromising the strength of the structure. There were a few stray spikes and a dagger left lying around, along with a pack of cards atop of a crate. Other misplaced items that belonged on upper or lower decks lay abandoned on the room, and the one that caught Lancelot’s attention was a stray satchel, containing valuables. Beside it lay a small ruby, gleaming in the sunlight.

“There aren’t many available positions aboard,” Dandé began to speak while Lancelot wandered around, approaching the gem on the side by a porthole. “Ye could always end up a powder monkey durin’ combat meanin’ that ye’d need ta be able to run gunpowder back n’ forth from through there,” he gestured to a door at the end of the room, “to whichever cannon needs it. If Cap’n Red accepted anyone as his first mate, then maybe we’d have a better role that I could mould you to fit to. Albeit we’ll just have to work with what we’ve got, it’d ‘ave been nice to ‘ave some form o’ idea of what ye could be.” He ran one hand through his hair to push it back, despite having a bandana that kept it out of his face regardless, sighing a little.

Plucking it from off of the side, Lancelot hastily stuffed the gem back into his pocket. It’d caught his curiosity and he’d only the intentions to examine it, not of theft. All he wished to be able to do was admire or examine it as he pleased before returning it. A simple and harmless act of curiosity. After all, questioning anyone about it could lead to someone lying to get something valuable from him or snitching. He didn’t want someone telling Elric that he was stealing, especially when his intentions were only due to curiosity.

Click. The door at the end of the room was unlocked and Dandé pulled the door open, gesturing for Lancelot to enter. Doing as was requested, the brunet plodded ahead. Barrels were tied together in corners and pressed against walls or stacked, and it was hard to count how many barrels they were. This was such a small room for so much gunpowder.

“Although,” Dandé began to speak again and Lancelot jolted. He’d forgotten the other was there in the moment he’d dropped his guard to examine the room. “If ye took this job, ye’d be demonstratin’ responsibility n’ ye could put them long legs to work.” He gave Lancelot an encouraging, playful shove, and he laughed softly in return.

At least one of them was staying positive. Then again, Dandé did live on board, and so he was used to the customs and such. Lancelot, on the other hand, stuck out like a sheep among wolves, and he felt just as threatened as one.

“Is this not a safety risk?” He questioned, turning back to Dandé. A room full of gunpowder surely wasn’t safe. The male raised his shoulders just enough to shrug.

“It’s the best place we got. Anywhere else n’ the gunpowder would be too far from the cannons. Now- all ya gotta do is make sure you get the barrels labelled for gunpowder, not the tar.” He turned to leave and Lancelot did the same. The door clicked locked behind him and he let out a breath. This was going to be confusing as f**k. Was if he didn’t even get either of these jobs? What if he was forced to learn something entirely new and he couldn’t enlist the help of Dandé.

Not only were his anxieties about home beginning to act up, but his mind continued to drift around and linger on family. Did his family miss him? Either answer filled his stomach with sickly dread.

If not, then had they noticed he’d even left? Did they… did they think he’d run off to misbehave?

If so, then what were they doing? Were there people out looking?

Worrying his family or having them roll their eyes at his disappearance. He wasn’t sure which option he preferred.