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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
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Navy Lieutenant
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Alishahr
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May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Dec 12, 2022 22:29:24 GMT
In the days before the war, Ben had fond memories of the country estate where Squire Percy and his family resided. He now knew that it was a modest residence, and the manor homes belonging to the nobility were far grander by far. He'd managed to keep up a regular correspondence with his friend, Captain Henry now that he was stationed with the Channel fleet to keep the French from leaving Brest. It wasn't a particularly noteworthy commission, and the sloop was only fourteen guns. But it was a ship and a better command than being stuck on land.
It came as a genuine surprise to everyone when an old acquaintance extended an invitation to the lieutenant to join him at his country residence. The captain, formerly of a sixth-rate frigate, had been court martialed for the loss of a ship, but everyone who knew him and his situation were well aware that it was just a formality. While he awaited the date, he'd become somewhat enamored with the social scene and was pleasantly surprised to hear that Ben was in London for the season. And so, for the few days he was to stay with his acquaintance, Ben was free of his host Alexander.
He found himself among mixed company regaling them with tales of his time in the East Indies. Even a story about finding water or a fresh tree to turn into a spar turned into a heroic tale of life and death for the small party sent to scout through uncharted jungles.
"So there we were as night fell. Dark shadows all around us, and from the shadows came deep growls. Monkeys shrieked and hollered, and the leaves carry sound for miles. You could never know if danger was nearly upon you or off in the distance. Jacob lit the fire. It was the first touch of civilization, and the glow warded off the worst of the jungle's predators. But they sat just outside the light watching. Waiting. Ready to pounce while we slept or if the flames died too low."
The anxiety he felt at the beginning of the evening had all but melted away. This was where he belonged standing before an enraptured audience. In another life, Ben was sure that he would have taken after his father and preached scripture from the pulpit. Instead, his life was anything but quiet and mundane. The pain in his chest didn't bother him as much when he was speaking, and he could almost forget the twinges in his hand as he gesticulated and partially acted out his story.
"Sweat poured off our backs like the wet season monsoons, and no one dared stop for water to quench parched throats. The men hacked away at the leaves and brush, and with every step closer to the shore, the jungle closed in again around us. All you could hear were the heavy pants of breathing and the leaves crushed underfoot. But leopards are silent hunters. They stalk from the trees, so you'll never hear them approach. Every rustle hid death, and every whoop and cry from a bird was a distraction. And then. Jacob stumbled forward crying out as he fell. Onto crystal white sand with a glittering ocean before us. Daedalus sat low in the bay with her sails out to dry. The salty tang of sea air refreshed out lungs from the stifling warmth of the jungle. The crew fell upon the warm sand like moths to a light. The longboats pulled ashore just where we'd left them. And most importantly, the rough hewn trunk for the new spar was intact. In a few days time with the carpenter and his mates slaving away, we'd at least be able to leave this accursed island."
Once the crowd dispersed, he was left standing and starting to feel the pain in his body once again. The captain promised to bring him something to drink and find a place where he could sit down if need be. He looked slightly startled by the young woman still standing there. He hadn't noticed her during the story, but he rarely noticed his audience as anything but a sea of people. "Thank you, my lady." He rubbed his leg and glanced sideways. Usually people left him alone except for the brief introductions. Being approached was still unfamiliar. "There is enough truth to it. As for what might be embellishment, revealing that would take the enjoyment out of it. The facts are all true."
| | For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow |
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
Occupation
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Dec 11, 2022 15:04:41 GMT
words • tagged @colin • credits
Ben shifted his weight when a stranger approached the small group. He wasn't dressed like a naval officer, and the lieutenant wasn't sure where to place him in the already established hierarchy. He glanced over to his companions in case they knew this other gentleman. The other lieutenant who'd been in the Mediterranean had a similar lack of recognition, and the commander turned as though the voice and face were familiar, but not nearly familiar enough to remember a name. But, they were all polite and shifted around to make room for one more. He was at the soiree, so clearly he was good enough company.
"Quite so. Perhaps you will have the opportunity one day. I spent most of my time in the Cyclades and then about two weeks in Athens. That was only earlier this year, and it is quite a difference to be back on English soil. Tell me," Ben glanced over at the commander as though seeking reassurance that he wasn't making too many mistakes. "What brought you to Greece? It's quite the journey to make through frog infested waters." There were a few short laughs from the other officers at the joke. "Though it was a relief to be in waters untouched by the war. The Greeks were wise to stay out of it, even if some of their sponge divers might disagree."
There had been more than one Greek sailor on Cerberus, affectionately named Big Sponge and Little Sponge because no one else could figure out how to pronounce their names. Some-such-loos was about the furthest most of the sailors and even the warrant officers could manage. "Did you have the chance to try melopita? I dare say, it's a greater sin that I can't find it anywhere in London." The dessert was mouth watering just thinking about it. Tirovolia cheese wrapped in pastry dough with cinnamon and honey. It was like spanakopita but much sweeter.
The lieutenant was unsure how polite it was to be talking to this man, but so far, no one had said anything. A fondness for Greece was enough, and it wasn't often he met other travellers. The main difference was that he took up a career in the navy and spent most of his time cruising the world in search of ships and prize money rather than leisure.
| | For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow |
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
Occupation
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
Tag me @benfowler
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Post by Ben Fowler on Dec 6, 2022 22:41:09 GMT
Mei Sinclair loses a bet to Ben Fowler
Bloomsbury was hardly the place for a wealthy member of the gentry, but neither was London the place for someone who only knew village life. Ben donned much plainer clothes than were strictly befitting of his standing in life and took on the role of a common sailor rather than a veteran lieutenant. He let his accent show, and for the one night, he didn't feel like he needed to put on as much of an act. People believed his act, and his limp masked anything resembling the bearing he usually had to adopt among the nobility.
The pub was hardly the most reputable place even in Bloomsbury, but drinks and propriety weren't his main reasons for being there. He'd heard from the docks that this was a good place to gamble no matter what your preference. Cards happened to be Ben's personal preference, and he very quickly found himself at a table with several other people. He kept his bets fairly modest and usually folded whenever anyone made some outrageous bet. That only earned him a few more pints of beer with the intent of loosening up his purse strings.
By midnight, he felt the warm buzz of alcohol clouding his mind, and he was losing slightly more often than he was winning. Not that he still wasn't coming out ahead, but the margin was smaller than he'd hoped. He was betting on a straight flush with a large wager, and that had attracted a few others to the table. Ben kept his expression tight and unreadable as he glanced down at the cards. The dealer laid another card on the table, and it looked like he was sure to lose. Instead, Ben only upped the ante and laid another pound on the table.
The final card was laid, and a silence fell over the table where one could hear a pin drop. Ben took his time laying out his cards one at a time. Cheers and groans erupted. A straight flush with hearts against all the odds. The lieutenant grinned as the only hand that could have beat his was a royal flush.
| | For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow |
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
Occupation
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Dec 6, 2022 22:38:34 GMT
Buckingham Palance was big. That was the obvious. What no one added onto it was that it had more rooms than people including the servants during a ball. Word had finally started getting around that Ben, despite his lack of dancing at any social events, had money. And it didn't take much longer for a few desperate mamas to start foisting their daughters on him. He couldn't dance, and the attention made his anxiety spike. He liked being the wallflower. He liked being the center of attention when he was in control of it, but mamas eager to marry off one daughter or another were certainly not willing to cede control to anyone.
He'd nearly fled the ballroom in search of anywhere that wasn't occupied by people. But at such a large event at such a large place, finding a place that wasn't occupied by people was surprisingly hard to find. Doors were locked or there were too many servants. Dressed in his navy frock and with a sword at his hip, he couldn't hide as anything but a military officer.
Finally, after several minutes of searching and having to retreat to a distant corner of the palace, Ben found refuge in an empty silver room. In truth, he hadn't gotten as far as he thought and ended up more turned around in the palace's layout than anything. But behind closed doors away from the sound of music and chatter, he could finally take a deep breath. His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt light headed. Suddenly, he wished he was anywhere else, but his friend was still here. He had no other way to get home. Ben leaned against one of the empty shelves and loosened his cravat. It was suffocating him, and he could feel the sweat sticking to the back of his neck.
His relief wasn't meant to last. The lieutenant stiffened as he heard footsteps outside and then the scrape of a key in the lock. A click, and then the footsteps faded into silence. Ben felt his nerves getting the better of him again as he tested the door to no avail. Locked. Mr. Crawford wouldn't actively go looking for him. He barely tolerated Ben's presence as it was. Panicked, he pounded on the door trying to get someone's attention. But it was impossible to hear over the music. He turned and swallowed hard. As if the night couldn't get worse.
| | For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow |
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
Occupation
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
Tag me @benfowler
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Post by Ben Fowler on Dec 6, 2022 22:37:40 GMT
words • tagged @kitty • credits
"What do you mean, you've lost the lottery ticket?" Ben stared at Kitty slack jawed. It wasn't like it had cost a huge amount, but the pot was big to the tune of a thousand pounds, and a small chance was better than none at all. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. This was a mess. They had to find it and preferably before anyone else did. And before the drawing.
They were in a crowded hall full of eager and hopeful participants. The event was partially just a social function to get to know people, but no one came to a lottery just to watch someone else win the prize. Ben paced the small patch of clear floor they had at the fridge of the hall, and it wasn't anywhere near as satisfying as pacing the quarterdeck fore and aft. "Do you have any idea where you left it? And you're certain you didn't leave it in your carriage or someplace similar?"
He knew it was likely just an accident, and his frustration was misguided. There couldn't be any reason for intentionally losing it. Maybe selling it for a guaranteed profit rather than potential, but if that was the case, he wished she would have told him first. "Okay, can we retrace our steps at all? There's the food table, the entrance, the rest of the hall, the courtyard...I doubt anyone is there right now. Stick together or split up? And if we do find it, I'm holding onto it this time."
| | For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow |
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
Occupation
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Dec 6, 2022 21:22:29 GMT
words • tagged @colin • credits
A soiree was a marginally more laid back than a ball, but not by much. And a soiree hosted by Lady Danbury was, for all intents and purposes, just as important as a ball. Ben hadn't quite figured out if she knew everyone in the ton or if his host knew everyone in the ton, and there was the vague third option that both were true. For the past week, there had been one event to go to or another every single night. Ever the dutiful host, Mr. Crawford dragged him to all of them. It also crossed Ben's mind that this was just punishment. They both knew Ben didn't particularly enjoy going out, but out he went.
This time, he'd found a couple other naval officers, and for the first time in a long while, the lieutenant felt comfortable enough to relax. They spoke easily of different ships they'd served on and different stations. One commander spent most of his days as a midshipman in the West Indies and spoke extensively of the beautiful women in Jamaica and Cuba. Another had been cruising around the Mediterranean and recognized the name Cerberus. He'd read about the engagement near Trieste in the Gazette and was happy to meet someone who was there and could describe what happened in less dull language.
And it didn't take much longer for the discussion to turn into a very one sided story about Greece. Ben had spent time at a hospital on Korfu and then spent the next couple months touring the Greek isles while he waited for a ship to be able to take him back to England. "Then I took a ferry to Naxos and Paros. The food and wine might as well be from Mount Olympus itself. If you've never had fresh olives, there is nothing quite like picking them straight off the tree. The oil comes from cold pressing the olives. It's a long and laborious process, but they add a few herbs and spices to it quite unlike the oil that's sent here. My host kept a villa outside of the city of Naxos. Sitting on the terrace in the evening, you could see the sun set over Paros. The colors! Truly, God is a master painter with more pigments than man can imagine."
| | For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow |
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
Occupation
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Nov 27, 2022 14:30:38 GMT
Ever the dutiful cousin, Alexander Crawford didn't complain about dragging Ben with him to every event he was invited to. The man was under his care for the season, and it wasn't like he could get into very much trouble. After a few necessary introductions, Mr. Crawford noticed that the lieutenant usually just found a corner to stay in all evening and never bothered anyone else. That was quite alright. No scandal, no being dragged away to make some introduction or another because the lieutenant wanted to converse. Nor was he any threat to Mr. Crawford's own attempts to woo a young lady of the ton. The lieutenant never danced, and very few people knew he was rich. His lieutenant's frock with a few patches in it, his out of style dress, and even his name didn't inspire any sort of confidence in his position.
Stuck among a crowd of strangers in a world he had no business being in, Ben was happy to stick to the fringes and watch. He had as much lemonade as he desired with the servants passing by, and the few people who recognized his uniform knew that he was only a lieutenant. He didn't have his own command nor had he been made post. They didn't know that he'd been on the deck of Victory before the battle of Trafalgar and seen action from the deck of Sirius, had served under Rear Admiral Ball, and had been a part of the capture of multiple ships. Not that Ben was likely to offer up that information quickly either. He'd known officers who liked to regale their own stories without prompting at dinner, and it made them insufferable to be around.
He pulled out a copy of the latest Lady Whistledown issue along with a thin pencil. As a complete stranger to the ton, he'd found it rather enlightening to read. He could familiarize himself with the names albeit without faces unless Mr. Crawford made introductions or pointed them out. Though, he had a few notes on the writing style. The writer's voice was very good and observant, and it dawned on him from the first issue he'd read that there was a lot to talk about in Society. His only complaint was on the word choice, pacing, and more technical details which in his opinion, could take the piece from just a scandal sheet to something more captivating and lyrical. With nothing better to do in the evening, he scribbled away crossing out words and rewriting sentences in the margins. Arrows to mark moving sections around, and it very well might have been a tutor going over a student's work. It was good, but it could be better.
| | For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow |
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
Occupation
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
Tag me @benfowler
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Post by Ben Fowler on Nov 25, 2022 23:51:44 GMT
💬
| | For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow |
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
Tag me @benfowler
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Post by Ben Fowler on Nov 25, 2022 0:16:23 GMT
Accepting!
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
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Alishahr
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May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Nov 25, 2022 0:16:06 GMT
Accepting!
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
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Navy Lieutenant
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Alishahr
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May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Nov 25, 2022 0:15:48 GMT
Accepting!
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
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Alishahr
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May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Nov 25, 2022 0:15:34 GMT
Accepting!
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
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Alishahr
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May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Nov 25, 2022 0:15:20 GMT
Accepting!
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Nov 25, 2022 0:15:07 GMT
Accepting!
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Oatmeal Without Any Salt
Gentry
Rank
Navy Lieutenant
Occupation
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Alishahr
Offline
May 20, 2023 15:18:07 GMT
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Post by Ben Fowler on Nov 25, 2022 0:14:52 GMT
Accepting!
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