(no subject)
Something Linn asked me to put up, which was written for her birthday. It was originally intended to be longer, and may be added to at some point.
"- and the shark didn't bite you hard enough, as well. You only want to be bit that hard 'cos I've got a hook hand and Brian's got a patch and you should've thought of having a wood leg earlier if you wanted a wood leg. You can't go changing half way through the game just 'cos all you've got is a flowery ban-anna. What kind of a pirate has a flowery ban-anna, is what I want to know, anyway. Don't expect Blackbeard was running around in a flower ban-anna he took from his mum's cupboard, not Blackbeard."
Pepper squared up to Adam, hands planted firmly on hips. Brian made a dive for safety behind the crates that were playing the part of the fo'csle. Possibly the poop deck.
"The shark did too bite me hard enough, and we don't have a ship doctor so it'll go green and fall off in any case. And it's not my fault my mum's got no skulls and crustbones. And if you're so worried about being a proper pirate, Adam Young, we should be eating ship biscuits and not that cake my mum made. Real pirates didn't have cakes their mums made."
"Alright," said Adam hurriedly, not willing to let go of Pepper's mum's chocolate cake so easily. "Stands to reason it's not your fault you've got a flowery ban-anna, but I still say the shark didn't bite you hard enough for a wood leg." Pepper folded her arms mutinously; Adam had a tendency to argue against things that he wished he'd thought of first, and crooking his finger into a hook wasn't nearly so pirate-y as having a wood leg. "Besides, we need the broomstick to hold up the flag so we can't make you a crutch."
The flag wasn't so impressive as all that and probably wouldn't be an enormous loss, being made of paper and Pepper's little sister's purple crayon (since it is a universal rule that there is never a black crayon, felt tip or colouring pencil when one is needed). It was the principle of the thing, though; you couldn't be a proper pirate if you didn't have a flag, and you couldn't be a proper eleven-year-old boy if you let a chocolate cake slip through your fingers.
"Alright," he decided eventually, and the conciliatory tone in his voice had Brian lifting his head cautiously from behind the crates. "Alright, you can't have a wood leg but the shark could bite you hard enough to have a scar on your leg and you can limp. I can draw the scar on with my red felt tip pen, if you like."
Pepper tilted her head to one side, apparently considering, but Brian emerged from behind the crates, which meant the fight was already finished; Brian was always a reliable emotional barometer. And Adam didn't make an offer like that lightly, anyway. His dad had brought him a pack of a hundred felt tips back from London after some sort of a business trip, and the variety of different colours had had the Them gaping. The pens had gained a sort of holy status, and they were only used on very special occasions (but no matter the care that Adam had taken, the black had already gone missing.)
"Okay," said Pepper, finally. "But make the holes really big."
She practised her hobbling as Adam went over to where he'd left his kagoule to fetch his red pen.
"Help!"
Wensleydale was starting to feel a little bit left out. It was a part of life with the Them that if there was a simpery girl part to play, then it definitely wouldn't be Pepper playing it. And that usually meant that they made games where there were no girls in anyway, or pretended that a tree was a girl needing rescuing, or something like that, but Brian had had an eyepatch and Adam had his hook and even Pepper had a bandanna, even if it was a flowery one, and that really only left Wensley. And his mum had made him promise that he wouldn't play at being pirates again after his glasses got broken last month. Pirates had been Adam's favourite game since his mum had got him that video of Hook, and it always came around sooner or later, and Wensley would rather have to be the girl part than give up playing with Adam all together. That was as unthinkable as choosing not to breathe for a day.
The problem was, of course, that all the really exciting things happened to the pirates. All the maidens had to do was stand around being tied to things, and Pepper couldn't find her skipping rope so he had to pretend. And then there were things like shark attacks, which it turned out were a lot more interesting than rescuing stupid old maidens, which meant that Wensley was getting cramp where his arms were bent around a tree.
"Help," he said again, not holding out an awful lot of hope.
Adam's fluffy blond head was bent over Pepper's grubby knee, now, and she was impatiently twisting an elastic tighter into her hair so it would stay out of her face and she could see what he was doing.
"I want more blood than that. Next time that shark comes back I want to fight it off and you can harpoon it if you like," she told Adam magnanimously. "We could have it for dinner."
Wensleydale sighed at her words, sliding down the tree and folding his arms across his knees, resting his chin on crossed forearms. He could always tie himself to the tree again later if they remembered about him, if they didn't get too caught up in their stupid old sharks to remember about the maiden.
There was a scraping of rocks, then a matter-of-fact voice by his ear.
"I can't go rescuing you if you've already rescued yourself, can I?"
When he looked out of the corner of his eye, where his glasses weren't, Brian was just a pinky blob. He was always recognisable, though, even when he was a blob; Brian's blob was a little bit grimier than all the other blobs, probably.
"I'm not rescued," said Wensley, his voice still carrying a little bit of the resentment of having been left alone so long. "Just my arms got tired, that's all. Can't expect me to stand there all day. And I thought Adam was supposed to be the one rescuing me, anyway."
Brian came around in front of him, where Wensley could see his big good-natured grin.
"Adam and Pepper're too busy rescuing each other from sharks. I think Pepper wants to make it into dinner and Adam wants to train it and make it into a pet. He still likes Dog most of all but I reckon a shark'd be just as good if he could make it play fetch. I can go and help them if you don't want to be rescued…"
"I do too want to be rescued. That's all the maiden has to do, is get rescued. Don't want to be completely pointless."
Brian's sunny grin faded a little bit, but he went around behind the tree in any case. There were various fumblings and Wensley craned his head back to look.
"What're you doing?"
"I'm untying you. You have to stay still, you're not free yet. I think the baddies tied you up pretty well, I might have to go and find a knife, maybe. I think they were evil Beavers."
Wensley snorted into his arms. Brian'd had a bit of a vendetta against the Beavers ever since they'd tried to make him go on parade in the church. He'd been fine with carrying the flag, and he didn't mind the uniform, but he'd caused enough of a fuss when they told him to take a bath that his mum had decided piano lessons were a lot safer.
"No, wait, it's okay. There's a bit of sharp rock - no, shell - here. I reckon that'll do it."
Busy noises for a moment or two longer, then Brian came back around the front of the tree, beaming.
"There you go, you're free now."
Adam and Pepper were still fighting noisily with the shark, and it seemed to involve a lot of rolling around in the dust, which was usually Brian's favourite part of any sort of game they played. Wensleydale raised his sandy-coloured head and smiled up at him.
"Thanks, Brian. You can go and help them with the shark now, if you want."
Brian shrugged one shoulder, indicating quite eloquently that while sharks were of interest, and all, there wasn't anything so very bad about maidens when it came down to it. And then he leaned forward and kissed Wensley hard on the cheek, nose almost poking him in the eye.
There was lengthy gaping.
"What was that for?"
"I dunno. Tradition?"
Wensley looked quickly over at Pepper and Adam, sure they must be listening, but found them still wrestling - more with each other than any imaginary shark, looked like. Games with Pepper ended up that way a lot.
"But boys aren't s'posed to kiss each other!"
"You're not a boy, you're a maiden. Not my fault Adam said you're the maiden, is it?"
"And if Pepper was the maiden you'd get her to kiss you, would you?"
Brian's face took on a horrified expression for a second.
"Don't be stupid. Pepper'd never be the maiden." He shrugged again, both shoulders this time. "Doesn't matter to me, anyway. Just thought it was supposed to be a part of what the maiden does." He ticked points off on his fingers. "Scream lots, get tied up, get rescued, get kissed."
"Never wanted to be the maiden in the first place."
"Okay." Brian looked at the floor, scuffing at a half-buried stone, and Wensley opened his mouth, not entirely sure what to say.
"Come and help train the shark, you two." Adam was standing nearby, blue eyes watching them closely; they hadn't heard him coming, but with Adam you never really did. "You can stop being the maiden now, Wens, if you want."
It was Wensley's turn to shrug.
"Don't really mind so much."
It wasn't the truth, not really, but it was worth it for Brian's grin.
"- and the shark didn't bite you hard enough, as well. You only want to be bit that hard 'cos I've got a hook hand and Brian's got a patch and you should've thought of having a wood leg earlier if you wanted a wood leg. You can't go changing half way through the game just 'cos all you've got is a flowery ban-anna. What kind of a pirate has a flowery ban-anna, is what I want to know, anyway. Don't expect Blackbeard was running around in a flower ban-anna he took from his mum's cupboard, not Blackbeard."
Pepper squared up to Adam, hands planted firmly on hips. Brian made a dive for safety behind the crates that were playing the part of the fo'csle. Possibly the poop deck.
"The shark did too bite me hard enough, and we don't have a ship doctor so it'll go green and fall off in any case. And it's not my fault my mum's got no skulls and crustbones. And if you're so worried about being a proper pirate, Adam Young, we should be eating ship biscuits and not that cake my mum made. Real pirates didn't have cakes their mums made."
"Alright," said Adam hurriedly, not willing to let go of Pepper's mum's chocolate cake so easily. "Stands to reason it's not your fault you've got a flowery ban-anna, but I still say the shark didn't bite you hard enough for a wood leg." Pepper folded her arms mutinously; Adam had a tendency to argue against things that he wished he'd thought of first, and crooking his finger into a hook wasn't nearly so pirate-y as having a wood leg. "Besides, we need the broomstick to hold up the flag so we can't make you a crutch."
The flag wasn't so impressive as all that and probably wouldn't be an enormous loss, being made of paper and Pepper's little sister's purple crayon (since it is a universal rule that there is never a black crayon, felt tip or colouring pencil when one is needed). It was the principle of the thing, though; you couldn't be a proper pirate if you didn't have a flag, and you couldn't be a proper eleven-year-old boy if you let a chocolate cake slip through your fingers.
"Alright," he decided eventually, and the conciliatory tone in his voice had Brian lifting his head cautiously from behind the crates. "Alright, you can't have a wood leg but the shark could bite you hard enough to have a scar on your leg and you can limp. I can draw the scar on with my red felt tip pen, if you like."
Pepper tilted her head to one side, apparently considering, but Brian emerged from behind the crates, which meant the fight was already finished; Brian was always a reliable emotional barometer. And Adam didn't make an offer like that lightly, anyway. His dad had brought him a pack of a hundred felt tips back from London after some sort of a business trip, and the variety of different colours had had the Them gaping. The pens had gained a sort of holy status, and they were only used on very special occasions (but no matter the care that Adam had taken, the black had already gone missing.)
"Okay," said Pepper, finally. "But make the holes really big."
She practised her hobbling as Adam went over to where he'd left his kagoule to fetch his red pen.
"Help!"
Wensleydale was starting to feel a little bit left out. It was a part of life with the Them that if there was a simpery girl part to play, then it definitely wouldn't be Pepper playing it. And that usually meant that they made games where there were no girls in anyway, or pretended that a tree was a girl needing rescuing, or something like that, but Brian had had an eyepatch and Adam had his hook and even Pepper had a bandanna, even if it was a flowery one, and that really only left Wensley. And his mum had made him promise that he wouldn't play at being pirates again after his glasses got broken last month. Pirates had been Adam's favourite game since his mum had got him that video of Hook, and it always came around sooner or later, and Wensley would rather have to be the girl part than give up playing with Adam all together. That was as unthinkable as choosing not to breathe for a day.
The problem was, of course, that all the really exciting things happened to the pirates. All the maidens had to do was stand around being tied to things, and Pepper couldn't find her skipping rope so he had to pretend. And then there were things like shark attacks, which it turned out were a lot more interesting than rescuing stupid old maidens, which meant that Wensley was getting cramp where his arms were bent around a tree.
"Help," he said again, not holding out an awful lot of hope.
Adam's fluffy blond head was bent over Pepper's grubby knee, now, and she was impatiently twisting an elastic tighter into her hair so it would stay out of her face and she could see what he was doing.
"I want more blood than that. Next time that shark comes back I want to fight it off and you can harpoon it if you like," she told Adam magnanimously. "We could have it for dinner."
Wensleydale sighed at her words, sliding down the tree and folding his arms across his knees, resting his chin on crossed forearms. He could always tie himself to the tree again later if they remembered about him, if they didn't get too caught up in their stupid old sharks to remember about the maiden.
There was a scraping of rocks, then a matter-of-fact voice by his ear.
"I can't go rescuing you if you've already rescued yourself, can I?"
When he looked out of the corner of his eye, where his glasses weren't, Brian was just a pinky blob. He was always recognisable, though, even when he was a blob; Brian's blob was a little bit grimier than all the other blobs, probably.
"I'm not rescued," said Wensley, his voice still carrying a little bit of the resentment of having been left alone so long. "Just my arms got tired, that's all. Can't expect me to stand there all day. And I thought Adam was supposed to be the one rescuing me, anyway."
Brian came around in front of him, where Wensley could see his big good-natured grin.
"Adam and Pepper're too busy rescuing each other from sharks. I think Pepper wants to make it into dinner and Adam wants to train it and make it into a pet. He still likes Dog most of all but I reckon a shark'd be just as good if he could make it play fetch. I can go and help them if you don't want to be rescued…"
"I do too want to be rescued. That's all the maiden has to do, is get rescued. Don't want to be completely pointless."
Brian's sunny grin faded a little bit, but he went around behind the tree in any case. There were various fumblings and Wensley craned his head back to look.
"What're you doing?"
"I'm untying you. You have to stay still, you're not free yet. I think the baddies tied you up pretty well, I might have to go and find a knife, maybe. I think they were evil Beavers."
Wensley snorted into his arms. Brian'd had a bit of a vendetta against the Beavers ever since they'd tried to make him go on parade in the church. He'd been fine with carrying the flag, and he didn't mind the uniform, but he'd caused enough of a fuss when they told him to take a bath that his mum had decided piano lessons were a lot safer.
"No, wait, it's okay. There's a bit of sharp rock - no, shell - here. I reckon that'll do it."
Busy noises for a moment or two longer, then Brian came back around the front of the tree, beaming.
"There you go, you're free now."
Adam and Pepper were still fighting noisily with the shark, and it seemed to involve a lot of rolling around in the dust, which was usually Brian's favourite part of any sort of game they played. Wensleydale raised his sandy-coloured head and smiled up at him.
"Thanks, Brian. You can go and help them with the shark now, if you want."
Brian shrugged one shoulder, indicating quite eloquently that while sharks were of interest, and all, there wasn't anything so very bad about maidens when it came down to it. And then he leaned forward and kissed Wensley hard on the cheek, nose almost poking him in the eye.
There was lengthy gaping.
"What was that for?"
"I dunno. Tradition?"
Wensley looked quickly over at Pepper and Adam, sure they must be listening, but found them still wrestling - more with each other than any imaginary shark, looked like. Games with Pepper ended up that way a lot.
"But boys aren't s'posed to kiss each other!"
"You're not a boy, you're a maiden. Not my fault Adam said you're the maiden, is it?"
"And if Pepper was the maiden you'd get her to kiss you, would you?"
Brian's face took on a horrified expression for a second.
"Don't be stupid. Pepper'd never be the maiden." He shrugged again, both shoulders this time. "Doesn't matter to me, anyway. Just thought it was supposed to be a part of what the maiden does." He ticked points off on his fingers. "Scream lots, get tied up, get rescued, get kissed."
"Never wanted to be the maiden in the first place."
"Okay." Brian looked at the floor, scuffing at a half-buried stone, and Wensley opened his mouth, not entirely sure what to say.
"Come and help train the shark, you two." Adam was standing nearby, blue eyes watching them closely; they hadn't heard him coming, but with Adam you never really did. "You can stop being the maiden now, Wens, if you want."
It was Wensley's turn to shrug.
"Don't really mind so much."
It wasn't the truth, not really, but it was worth it for Brian's grin.