Captain Kirkland: How He Came To Be

Chapter VII

It took us three men a few moments to comprehend what had just occurred, and oh bloody hell was what followed amusing.

Kirkland had stumbled back, nearly knocking me over, a hand over the hit area of his head, stunned. Captain Gilbert, I have only just remembered his first name, was in near laughing hysterics. I myself had to refrain from doubling over with laughter in fear for my life afterwards, though I could not suppress in the very least a quiet chuckle. Mrs. Elizabeta seemed very satisfied with her action and the result, and really, I think the Prussian and I couldn't agree more.

A low growl emitted from Kirkland's throat from beside me. I turned to glance at him and the fury radiating off him was practically burning me. Yet he wouldn't dare hurt a lady, correct? It would be highly uncultured of him. Ironic, coming from a pirate. Even though I am a pirate, I still have my manners. My mother beat them into me, how could I lose them?

Once more I was mistaken about Kirkland, for as he stormed past the two, he subtly stepped on Mrs. Elizabeta's foot. With the steel toe. How she didn't in the very least yelp is unknown to me. She did wince, yet her feature were twisted into a mask of anger.

I apologized on my Captain's behalf before I could even consider it in my mind. She only smiled and said: "It's quite alright, it's actually good to see him gather enough courage to strike me back." I almost spluttered. Who on Earth would reply with that? She laughed at my clear as day confusion.

The Prussian, I really am not certain how to address him due to my forgetfulness of his surname, shrugged. "It's Elizabeta Hedervary, don't question her."  He said good-naturedly. If they were married, then wouldn't she have taken his surname? Gilbert Hedervary. Doesn't sound fitting. It sounded Hungarian. It would likely be rude to ask. I really do wonder what kind of pirate has my manners.

A yell startled me out of my thoughts; "Screw Beilschmidt!" That was Kirkland's voice. The Prussian called "You too!" in response. Well, that answered my mystery of his surname, only to be replaced with a new one, which was what in the bloody hell made Kirkland yell like that. Looking for the source of the yell, my eyes landed upon his scarlet coat some few feet away.He was conversing with two other men.

Only one of the two men was dressed in proper pirate Captain attire, yet something told me the other darker one was one too. The one in the baby blue uniform was a light colored man, European, though I can't really pinpoint from which region exactly. The darker one looked likely to be Spanish. 

Behind us, the ship awaited not entirely patiently. The Captain had given orders for the rest of the crew not to unboard and to just wait. Someone from there barked something along the lines of "How much bloody longer?" to me and I yelled back; "Do you think I know? Bleeding wait, you're not a blasted child." I had actually no idea how long this stop would take. So I just stood there awkwardly, awaiting him. 

Eventually, the Captain stalked back with a satisfied smirk. Even more confused now, I gave a mock salute to the equally confused Beilschmidt, the lost in thought Mrs. Hedervary, and the surprised Spaniard and European before following. I so desperately wanted to ask what had occurred, even though I was technically not allowed to. I had always been overly curious, on occasion to my own dismay.

Once we had set sail once more, I had been summoned to the Captain's cabin. I knocked for permission and entered once it was granted, to find him in an absolutely ridiculing postition. He was sitting, if it could be called as such, with his legs hanging over the armchair's back and his head hanging off the seat. How that could even be comfortable was yet another mystery revolving around him. 

"Hell, shut the door." Was the first phrase he spoke. Blinking out of my surprise, I did so. He squinted at me momentarily before beckoning me towards him. Still clueless, I obeyed. It was an odd position, I did not know where or even how to look. He reached out with a hand and pulled off my spectacles, instantly blurring my vision. I was going to burst with questions. "Leave." He ordered, and now I was beginning to get enraged. Without my glasses, I was mostly blind. Yet I had no choice.

So I struggled to find the doorknob. A laugh was heard behind me. "Understood then. Stay, but find your glasses first." I groaned. A child's game of torment. If I could not locate a doorknob, how was I supposed to find thin frames? Another laugh sounded. "Only joking. You would likely spend all day. You can have them, they're in my palm. That is, if you can find my palm." He must think himself hilarious.

I walked over, nearly tripping on a fallen book. Lord knows when that ended up there. As I put them back on and the world became meaningful again, the lad was grinning. "Test complete." He said. What kind of bloody test was that? "What is it you want, sir?" I asked, impatience beginning to get the better of me. "Did you recognize those people?" He asked, and I cocked an eyebrow. "On the coast of Prussia?" I asked in return- Oh, bloody blasted hell. I can't write any longer. We are under attack at this very moment. I must leave.

Sincerely hoping to write again, 

Jonathan Williams.

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Well damn that was longer than usual.