Day 162: You are a pirate. Describe your perfect day.

 

sailing-ship-vessel-boat-sea-37859.jpegMy name is Astrid Barnes. If you’re following the events in the Chronicle, you already know me. You know all about the Siren, you know about Escobar Rannigan. You’ve heard all about Ragnar’s perfect day (blood, sweat, usually some tears) and Boondock’s, though how they managed to get him to say more than four sentences in a row will forever be beyond me.

Me, my perfect day is a little different to theirs. Far less blood and guts and far more refined.

It’s the day after we take a prize. Either we’ve ransacked it and let it fly on or we’ve sent it towards Tinguza with a prize crew. Most of the crew will be sleeping it off, seeing as the Captain always rolls out any barrels we take for the watches to enjoy. Always keeps the nice bottles for the Round Table though.

I don’t tend to go hard on these nights. I much prefer the heady feeling of the day after.

I pick my away around the bodies, merrily snoring as we pass through the clouds. Practically dancing my way through, what with the density of them in some places. I make my way through the decks until I reach the upper deck. Doesn’t matter what the weather is like, not on the Siren. If it’s raining, we just pull more sail and rise above it. So, every time, I emerge from the below decks into glorious sunshine. Warm on my skin, warring with the cool air.

It’s always quiet. That’s what I find as I mooch across to the prow. There are no birds up here, just the ships. I’ll sit with the Siren and just… Talk.

About what? That doesn’t matter. I just get to talk to her. I usually get a couple of hours before the non-scrub wake up. Roscoe or Mulligan are usually kicking around, supervising the navs. But they leave me to it, these days. Someone had come to bother me the first time I’d come down here, but they don’t anymore.

I’m fairly sure they reattached the hand in the end.

Twice now, Rannigan has come to join me. I’m always there first, but he’ll arrive. Booming voice that carries, even here. Even whispering, he could be heard over the rush of the wind. He says nothing, just sits with one hand on the figurehead’s midriff. It’s a truly human moment for an otherwise godly figure.

He sits there for one hour exactly. Then he stands up, growls a greeting at me and stomps away through the decks. Captain’s rounds at 0800. However hungover you were before, you’d better be up and ready. Just like that, it’s a normal day.

That’s my perfect day though. A day aboard this ship, with those moments in the morning. That cover it for you?

Excerpt from an interview with Astrid Barnes, conducted by Oscar Belinsky
17th January 1853

Hey, it’s the Argent Siren again!

Few things to mention here. Number one, a big thank you to Corey at Quintessential Editor for putting a link in his Feature Friday. He’s pretty much as prolific with his posting as I am, but with his posts you even get to learn stuff! 

Number two, thank you to the various bloggers who have linked to me in their awards posts. You’re all amazing and I will get round to checking them out properly. 

Finally, keep letting me know what you think, keep reading, hopefully keep enjoying… All that good stuff. Thanks for stopping by.

The Idiot in Tin Foil

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