Ocean Eyes, Storm Cloud Minds

Chapter Three

”I swear to you, Sir. I'll prove myself."

The decision was, perhaps, almost as impulsive as it was selfless. He was tempted to indulge in selfish habits and declare that he’d rather die. Perhaps insulting this man, who seemed to be the captain (he certainly carried himself like one) would bring him a swifter death? A s***h across the neck would be much more appreciated than drowning. He was only considering the now- the abuse and the danger of death, not to mention the cruelty he could be subjected to, but there were so many potential consequences.

And considering escape? His family named would be stained. What if he were caught? Would he be hanged? He’d spend his last while on earth living as a pirate and, not long after, he would die as one. Even if he chose to stay, and he were caught, this would declare his family as untrustworthy by pirate association. The shame his family would feel… Would he be disowned? Would they cover up any traces or association with him?

He doubted he’d be remembered as a family-favourite if anyone knew where he was.

Forcing those morbid thoughts aside, he turned his attention to his current situation. He’d not let this mans arrogance or authority get the better of him- that much he was sure of. He looked the man in the eyes and, as if to test his dominance, spoke again.

“Will I be let loose now, or do you plan on me being useful without my limbs?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and the man let a smile curl onto his lips. He knelt down before Lancelot and reached around him. The brunet’s breath caught as he felt a sharp blade near his restrained wrists.

A few tense moments passed. Their bodies were uncomfortably close together, but Lancelot seemed to be the only one that experienced any discomfort. A soft, scratchy sound passed as the blade moved and Lancelot was soon able to pull his wrists free, finally. The rope fell away and he began rubbing his raw wrists, breathing out a curse at how the irritated skin stung.

He hauled his weight to his feet, wobbled, but nonetheless regained his baLancelot. He could feel his blood rush through his legs once more and clung to a beam while feeling returned to the lower half of his body. The man, impatient, was getting quickly bored of how long the brunet took to do as he was told.

A soft, relieved sigh slid out from his lips before his gaze landed on the stern expression of his new superior.

“What do you wish to be called?” He questioned respectfully, losing all bitterness and sarcasm that he’d had merely minutes earlier. The man arched an eyebrow.

“You haven’t any idea who I am?” He asked with a sneer, though he seemed to remind himself of something and sighed, taking a small step back. He composed himself. “Captain Elric Fractus. /You/ shall refer to me as Captain Fractus or just Captain. Nothin’ else ’till I decide that yer worthy.” He glanced away shyly for but a moment before he recollected himself once more and straightened up. Lancelot simply nodded, murmuring a submissive ‘yes, Captain’.

Something was off about this captain.

Lancelot wasn’t sure what it was, but authority didn’t suit him. He demanded it and seemed to earn it, but Lancelot could see him thinking through his words and actions meticulously before doing anything. It was almost like he was afraid of slipping up. Curiosity struck, as per usual. What would this man be like when he was angry? Anger took away impulse control and the fear of making mistakes. He wanted to see this man for who he was, nothing less.

It was almost like this position wasn’t supposed to be his.

He glanced towards the stairs and stepped forward, tense. Reluctantly approaching the upper deck, Lancelot found the vile scent of sweat and body odour from the crews quarters almost overpowering while it passed. The sunlight was bright and he was already forced to squint as he took ahold of the rope railing beside the stairs. He continued upwards, the light getting brighter and sounds that he’d tuned out while he had the choice was suddenly the only thing he could hear. The crashing of the waves was quieter up here, though that was a consequence of the loudness of the crew. He could hear calls and vulgarities being tossed around aboard the ship, the conversations being vastly varied depending on whereabouts you looked.

From one direction, he could hear someone shouting about a doxy- he felt some urge of pride at how he’d remembered that word, even if it was unimportant slang- and not leaving out a single detail, not even of the unpleasantries. In another, he heard about drinking and festivities that were rumoured to be getting done that evening. He could even hear a few people muttering insulting things about him, though that was hardly surprising. He was just glad that he could barely understand the slang.

Fractus soon stood beside him. One foot hooked slightly around Lancelot’s, he turned his attention to the crew and called out for a stranger named ‘Green’. This was exactly what had been called out before Lancelot had blacked out, and he assumed that that was a name. Whoever was called got the hint, and he soon heard a loud bell ringing. The crew quietened upon hearing it.

A few moments passed before those who weren’t doing crucial jobs swung down to join Elric, forming a crescent around him and the stranger. Lancelot forced his expression to stay neutral but still kept his pride about him. The last thing he wanted was to be viewed as weak and pathetic- this experience was already destined to be hellish without an increased chance of bullying.

He felt exposed. It was like he’d been stripped naked and shoved into the town centre. All the attention was either on him or Elric, and the attention of many murderers, thieves, whatever else, was the last kind of attention he wanted. A small whisper urged him forward and he took a step, tripping over Elric’s foot- hooked around his- and stumbled.

The captain smiled with some strange triumph, as that had been his intention, and Lancelot had to avoid glaring at him upon regaining his baLancelot. He couldn’t bring himself to speak and murmurs started to rise. He couldn’t pick out anything other than infrequent words, but the language used was unpleasant. He looked down, subconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. His shoes were suddenly much, much more interesting and intriguing than anything else. He figured it wouldn’t be hard to entertain himself by staring at his feet- he could try to figure out where each scratch or scuff on his shoes came from.

The sound of cork-based boots slamming on a hardwood deck caught Lancelot’s attention, diverting it from the ship to the male stood beside him. It was intriguing- Elric seemed to take charge well despite how his discomfort was clear.

“Shut yer mouths, the lotta ya!” his voice snapped, cold and direct, full of some anger that died away when he finished speaking. Lancelot, once more, averted his eyes. He was aware that showing confidence would be a good way to make a first impression, but the last thing that he wanted was to attract unwanted attention and have people challenging him for confidence he didn’t currently have.

Soon, though, his eyes did flicker upwards for him to begin scanning the crowd at infrequent intervals. He was curious to see who he would live amongst for an unknown amount of time. He could only hope that these would be the men he’d die amongst. His trembling hands were toying with the hem of his shirt as an anxious habit. Soon, though, his eyes landed upon a friendly face.

It was unusual, and stuck out like a sore thumb now that it had been noticed. Lancelot frowned, turning his attention to this stranger. He had dark skin and dark eyes, black hair and an orange band to keep it from his face. It was surprisingly clean, too, which showed that he may care for cleanliness and hygiene. His eyes were warm and he seemed sympathetic toward Lancelot. That was endearing.

Capturing his attention away from the stranger, Captain Fractus spoke up once more.

“I’m not too pleased to present to ya a new member o’ the crew!” He announced, grabbing ahold of Lancelot by his arm and pushing him forwards once more, enabling the crew to get a good look at him.

“I expect hospitality but refrain from gettin’ attached!” he proceeded, grinning wickedly now. Lancelot frowned, glancing back at him and then out at the crew. “Aye, he’ll be lucky to last any longer than a day!

"He has today to find something he's good at before I let you all do as you please before we throw him overboard." The captain announced, and Lancelot almost whimpered at the harshness and sheer lack of care in his tone. He fixed his gaze on the ground again, running his fingers over the soft, damaged skin the rope had marked. He sighed softly, relieved that Elric hadn't heard his sigh before the captain cleared his throat and Lancelot felt a hand harshly shove him forward, causing him to stumble again but still not fall. He didn't want to embarrass himself that badly in front of all these people. Although, the brunet suddenly became aware that Elric had been speaking to him, and several people on the deck were snickering at his pure idiocy.

"I said, Blue, that you're paired with Gold. Get out of my sight before I get annoyed." He said coldly and Lancelot nodded, not questioning the nickname as he looked over and saw the same man as before point at himself, that being a hint as to who was 'Gold'.

Lancelot walked over, the crew parting for him and keeping their gazes latched onto the male, all wanting to get a look at him to see exactly how scrawny and how much of a misfit he was. He could already hear people betting on how long it'd be before either Elric threw him overboard, or he threw himself off the edge of the ship in an attempt at escaping. The man looked down at him, smiling a little and taking his arm, walking a little further away from the crowd, who were quickly ordered back to their places while the slightly shorter man looked up at Lancelot, a small smile on his lips. Gold seemed friendly, at least.

"I'm Dandé." He said, holding one hand out for Lancelot to shake, and he did gladly - relieved that someone was nice to him, on this damn vessel. "But as we all have to call each other by nicknames on ship, call me Gold. How about you, Blue? What's your real name?" He asked, his voice strangely soft for somewhere like this. Lancelot didn't respond for a moment, but as he pulled his hand from the large man's soft grip, he thought that this place would be a lot more hellish without someone he could trust.

He opened his mouth to speak, his voice hoarse and his tone quiet compared to usual. "L-Lancelot. I'm Lancelot." He said, forcing a smile onto his face as he looked at Dandé. The black haired man smiled at him and nodded before some harsh words shot in their direction made him realise he was meant to be doing something other than introducing himself. It was hardly like he'd been invited here with the offer of a cup of tea to greet each individual aboard.

"Everyone on board has to do something. Elric does not tolerate laziness- I've seen it happen." He said, taking Lancelot to where a collection of ropes had been loosely and hurriedly tied, taking a marlin spike and starting to undo the knots. Lancelot watched and occasionally helped when he was asked, chewing his bottom lip as he listened intently, determined not to be killed here.

His only wish was that he would be able to see his family again in the future. That wasn't excessively unrealistic, was it?