voice. Private to the Spades

[thatched]

Come hell or high water, we're shipping out on Saturday. Probably in the early evening. If you wish to stay behind you may but there's no promises we'll be able to return. Our plans are to pick up the coral as we see it, blast the hell out of the fortress when we can and get in--getting rid of anything or anyone in our way until we find a way to lift this curse.

In order to cover more ground, Sun and Moon will be heading in opposite directions. If you wish to remain behind, let someone know. Otherwise we need repair work done and done quickly. Come to me or Namur for supply lists.

Our captain will be taken care of so don't worry about him.

If you have questions, ask, but don't waste my time.

Comments

[thatched]

[Thatch stared at him. All of it washing over him, clicking into place the pieces he was missing. They found him cut up... but nothing about what had happened to him after. So he could only assume-- Well he wouldn't think about that. What Marshall had done. Turned. Akainu destroyed Ace. Thatch could see the scar from that still and Pops dead. It was like a horror story. Like their worst fears becoming realized.

So that was why Marshall had wanted to see him on deck. Why he'd acted so shifty. That was what he had wanted in the end. And then--everything. He can't even imagine it. He wants to tell Namur that he's lying. To spit at him. Punch him in the face. No nakama would do that to another. Wouldn't do that to Pops. Ace was fine. Pops was fine. He himself was fine. He wanted to make Namur say it.

But Namur wouldn't say it if it weren't true. He was shaking from it. Upset from it. Promised he wouldn't.

But Thatch had two bedraggled ships, a missing captain and first mate and a crew mourning and afraid, new people, too, uncertain, watching him for any sign of weakness. He didn't have time for this. So he carefully folded it away and stowed it for later when there was time.

So spoke evenly and calmly]

Aye. Now you've told me so let it rest. Do you trust me enough to put this goop on you or should I get someone else?

[not accusing or sarcastic. An honest question]

[om_nom_namur]

[Namur's jaw drops, then he shuts it determinedly.]

Y' ain't Teach.

[The last word is spit out of his mouth like a poisonous urchin. He moves over and sits on the rail, twisting to hang his legs overboard. He's quiet for awhile, then says softly something he wanted to say for months.]

Sorry we didn't have yer back when y' needed us, Thatch.

[thatched]

[Frankly he didn't want to hear any part of Marshall's name and if Namur said it again he'd punch him in the mouth without warning, or anyone else who said it. He takes the goop and starts applying it.

As for the second part the words: 'well it looks like someone did' want to come out dry and sardonic but he keeps them behind his teeth, the application much rougher than was probably necessary]

Well you have it now. Keep those fledgelings alive as best you can, aye? And don't give into the temptation to strangle them when they squawk too much. [he pushes Namur forward a bit to get a place on his shoulder blade] You're allowed to forcefeed Roxas his board.

[om_nom_namur]

[Namur can taste the anger Thatch is holding back, a bitter tang mingled with his scent. He nods, accepting everything Thatch says. Thatch can be as rough as he wants, Namur's stable now. He's never been one to hold physical aggression against his brothers. He's said what he needed, the pieces will fall where they may. And he'll be there to drag his brothers out of the deep when they need him. He picks at a blister on his palm, then closes the fist, thinking how that's a promise he won't be breaking.]