Captain Jack Morrison quickly walked down the sidewalk of his hometown, a sleepy little port town that had become a rather bustling trading post in the last few decades, thanks to the increasing importance of sea trade. He had always loved the sea, having been aboard a number of vessels as a child, but when his parents settled down, they decided to retire to this town, still just a blip on the map at the time.
With time, however, trade arrived, and the town responded positively, particularly due to the sheer number of revenue that came from the passing traders. Jack knew this was his chance to return to his parent's trade, a humble homage to their life's work, and he knew he would do it well. He spent all of his inheritance on a sizeable vessel, named it the 'Splitstream' after a story his parents endlessly relayed to him at bedtime, and took to the seas, by himself at first, though along the way, he picked up a number of responsible crew members.
Never among these seadogs, however, was his daughter, Angela. Adamantly opposed to exposing her to such a grueling lifestyle, Jack spared no expense at giving his daughter a comfortable home here in his hometown, and though she had been fine as a child, rebellion quickly settled in as she aged, and now as a young adult, she felt that same drive that chased Jack himself back out to sea to follow in his own parent's footsteps. However, Jack did what he could to resist, much to Angela's chagrin and, even, wit.
Jack turned heads as he walked quickly along the sidewalk, his head buried in invoices and charters, and while a few of the townspeople might have thought him a businessman late for a meeting, the few that knew him also knew of his reason to make haste. Indeed, as his eyes peeked up from his handful of paper, his eyes shut with dismay, dropping his arm to his side as he began to run toward the fence of his home, just as an older lady, Mrs. Boretti, slammed the front door behind her, angrily, stomping down to where Jack stood.
His face had already dropped disappointingly as he opened the gate for her, the older lady fuming as she threw a closed envelope at him, speaking heatedly, "That's it, Jack! I'm done with that one! Never in my life have I been subjected to so much- so much… ARGH! Take your money back; I'm not about to be bound to that child of yours for another moment!"
Jack sadly nodded as he replied, "I understand, Mrs. Boretti; you have my apologies. Have a good day."
She grunted up at him, angrily, before turning to stomp away, throwing her purse over her shoulder as she disappeared down the street. Jack closed his eyes, solemnly, as his head fell back, sighing deeply as he peered toward his home from his despondent position, seeing the visage of Angela in the second-story window from just within his vision. As he lowered his head to look up at her, she quickly vanished into the dark interior, the shutters immediately shutting with a *clack*, leaving him with a shake of the head as he groaned, walking through the gate and up toward the door.
Pushing the door open, Angela was hurrying down the stairs, happily rushing up to greet him, "Father! You're ba-!"
He reached out to grasp her shoulder, preventing her hug as his head lowered, upset, as his eyes remained fixed on her, "How many sitters are you going to send out of here running for their lives?"
Angela angrily frowned as she pulled away, crossing her arms, "It's not my fault. I wouldn't have sitters to begin with if you'd just take me on a trip with you."
Jack groaned as he turned toward the wall, pulling his coat off to be hung up, "We're not having this discussion again. You need to focus on your schoolwork; you can't learn anything on a ship."
Angrily, Angela puffed out her chest as if she'd been rehearsing, "Finance, accounting, organization, problem-solving, deadline-management, rope-tying, scurvy prevention, mast fold-"
"How to dress lacerations," Jack interrupted, turning toward her, gravely, "How to calm down a seaman whose arm has been ripped off by an unwieldy spar? Learning how to watch a crewman flailing in the sea after having been thrown off, knowing there's nothing you can do?"
He shook his head, "Angela, there's nothing about this life you need to know about. Keep to your studies, alright?"
Angela turned away with an inaudible groan. She hated when her father got 'deep' in that way; it was rare to occur, and he was never one to reveal much in the way of feelings. It usually forced her to stop arguing, even if she felt passionately about something she argued for.
As she relinquished herself to being quiet, her father walked past her, giving her a quick sidelong hug before entering further into the home, "Do we have anything in line for dinner?"
Angela didn't move, but she did speak up after him, "Just some resentment, with a helping of disappointment."
Jack rolled his eyes as he entered the kitchen, rolling up the long-sleeves of his dress shirt, finding that Angela had, indeed, already made up dinner. He sighed, again, as she approached from behind him, entering the kitchen to prepare their plates.
"I will never understand," he muttered, shaking his head in quiet disbelief, "How do you manage to run off every sitter I leave you, yet still manage to cook up a meal?"
His daughter gave him a sarcastic glare, "Because I'm gooood. Y'know, the kind of multi-tasking that would come in handy on a ship."
"Uh huh," Jack nodded, crossing his arms, "What kind of ship?"
Angela's lips pulled to the side in angered thought, knowing that her father knew very well that she'd be unable to give him the correct answer. She knew he was asking what kind of ship he sailed, but realizing she'd be unable to answer, she spent her quick time in thought thinking of some sort of comeback.
All she had was, "One that floats!"
Jack shook his head, revealing only the slightest of grins as he turned back toward the dining room, "I rest my case."
Angela rolled her eyes unhappily as he lowered her head again, focusing on plating the two of their meals.
As usual, Jack ate quietly at the table, going through his stack of papers that sat beside his place setting, flipping through them carefully as he chewed his meal, making sure to pull the stack away whenever leaning over for another bite, carefully avoiding any soiling of the papers.
Angela did much the same on this occasion, though she had a book beside her. Unlike her father, she was furiously ripping through the pages, not bothering to avoid dropping any food on it, and hardly taking in much of any information that she was gleaning.
Finally, she slammed her hand onto the book, calling forth her father's attention as he peered up toward her. She pulled the book into the air, pointing to what turned out to be an entry in the encyclopedia, as her face leaned over to stare at him, smugly, as if having won a challenge.
"Fluyt!" she shouted, proudly, alongside a devilishly cocky grin.
Jack nodded slowly as he returned to his papers, "Good work. You're still not going."
Angela dropped the book on the table as her face instantly dropped into a sarcastic glare, her body slowly returning to her seat without breaking eye-contact, "You know, you could give me some credit. You come at me with so many trick questions; at least I'm able to discern what is and what isn't."
"Sweetheart," Jack muttered, sitting up straight from his work, "I asked you just last year how to prevent yourself from being attacked from a drop bear and you came to me with forks in your hair."
"It was a joke!"
"You went down to the bazaar looking for some Australian brewer's yeast!" Jack retorted, unable to hide his chuckling as he leaned back in his chair, "Sometimes I wonder how you're as old as you are."
Angela angrily crossed her arms, "Maybe if I saw more of the world…"
Jack sighed, leaning toward the table to poke at another bit of his food, "Tell you what. The Splitstream is being careened this weekend before we depart again. How about I take you with me down to the yards? Will that end this line of questioning? I would like to visit with my loving daughter at some point this weekend, you know."
Groaning, Angela returned to her plate as well, answering weakly, "Fine."
"Good," Jack nodded, pushing his papers away, "Alright, now we can talk. How have you been?"
Angela poked lazily at her food, "I've been. Grades are good."
"Yeah, and Mrs. Boretti isn't," Jack replied, slightly amusedly.
Rolling her eyes, Angela shrugged, "Hey, I wasn't the one telling me to get to bed earlier than usual. I don't care that I was out late the night before- I'm in university."
"Out late?" Jack's eyes narrowed as he watched his daughter.
She replied easily, "It wasn't anything bad; Chrissa, Julie, and I were just downtown watching a play that went late. I even got Julie to come back home with me to explain, but that woman won't listen to anything that doesn't come from one of those rag newspapers."
Jack reached over for his mug of coffee, hiding his grin as he took a sip, speaking as he finished, "You remind me so much of myself sometimes, you know. I wasn't halfway as rebellious as you, but I didn't take crap from anybody. Still don't."
Angela groaned, "I know."
Jack chuckled, "Oh come on, if I treated your lies like I do the lies of business partners, you wouldn't have this house over your head. I'd like to think I've been a fair and honorable father."
Peering away in disagreement, Angela didn't reply as Jack reached up to scratch the back of his head, "You know, it never leaves my mind that your mother is no longer with us. Whenever I discipline you, or try and do what's best for you, I always try and keep her in mind. I know I'm just an old dog; I can't really give you what a mother could."
Angela's eyes turned toward him, sadly, as her father's head lowered. He definitely seemed downtrodden in thinking back on his wife, but as usual, that feeling never would push him to tears. Nothing did that. Even when she had just died, Angela remembered watching him at the funeral, between her own tears, not seeing even a single flinch reaching across his empty face.
Sighing heavily, Angela leaned onto the table, toward her father, "You've been good to me, father. I just wish you'd-"
"Wish I'd let you get away with more, I know," he grinned, nodding slightly, "That's what you mean."
Angela eyed him, drolly, as he turned up to meet her eyes, groaning himself before continuing, "Look, promise me you'll at least try to be respectful to the next sitter, and I promise to try and let you spread your wings a bit, okay?"
"Just stop calling them 'sitters' and you've got a deal," Angela muttered, blankly, "Seriously, I'm not five."
Jack smiled, "Noted."
Angela's eyes grew wide for just a moment in astonishment at her father's continued expectation that she remain a child, though she continued eating, going along as her father spoke up again, "How are your friends, anyway?"
Angela eyed him, "You remember the rule, right?"
Jack nodded in reply, Angela quickly speaking, "Chrissa's fine. How's Jesse?"
Laughing, Jack shook his head, "No, no; you're trying to hard. Let's do that again."
Sighed, Angela frowned, "Chrissa's fine. She managed to get that internship in town, so her family often stops by on the way there and back to check up on me. I swear, even when you're gone, it's like you're still on me like a hawk."
Jack grinned proudly, "Marshall and I go way back; of course he'd keep an eye on you. Good to hear his daughter's doing well. How about-"
"Jesse," Angela interrupted, frowning still.
Nodding quickly, Jack answered, "Jesse's about as good as usual. He's back home while I'm here for that careening, so I'll have to stop by on our way up to Europe. He wouldn't admit it, but he's wary of the albatross around his neck; he probably didn't want to sail more than he had to without seeing his family."
"What's that mean?"
Jack thought for a moment before going on, "Well, some sailors believe that albatrosses embody the spirits of sailors who are no longer with us, so killing one, it's believed you're signing your own death wish. Jesse accidentally killed one on our last trip, so I think there's some part of him that feels as though that's going to come back to get him."
"Do you believe that?" Angela questioned, innocently.
"No," Jack chuckled, lightly, "No, I don't believe in that stuff. That being said, if Jesse does, it's all the more real for him and that's all that counts."
Angela nodded as she took in his words, beginning from where she had left off, "Well, Julie's doing well, too. She's sort of gotten into reading a lot of atlases and other worldly stuff; I think I must have gotten to her."
Jack knew Chrissa well enough, as her father and him had been crewmen on a ship together in the past, but Angela's other friends were quite the mystery to him, given that he was often gone for so long. He had met their families, but still, he knew Marshall would keep Chrissa in line; he wasn't much sure about Julie's family, though.
"Just as long as you aren't thinking of sailing off or anything," Jack muttered, unamused, as he took a bite to eat.
Angela managed a quick glance toward him before shaking her head, slowly, "I wouldn't, even if I could."
Her father's eyes suddenly caught hers as he watching her, curiously, before lowering his head once again, wondering what she had meant until she went on, quieter this time, "How's Hana?"
"Oh," Jack answered, slightly surprised at her choice of which of his crew to inquire about, "Well, uh, she's fine, just- why her of all people? You always ask about Jesse and Lena."
Angela grinned before quickly reaching up to cover her lips with both hands, too late to hide her amusement as Jack eyed her, confused, before a subtle knocking arose from the dining room window, the captain's face slowly turning to see Lena Oxton standing right outside, doubtlessly in the flower bed, her hands coiled as if emulating a telescope as she pulled them to her eye, pointing toward her Captain, as if she were sighting him from afar.
"That explains an awful lot," Jack answered, exhaustedly, as he pushed his chair back from the table to stand, though Angela rushed to her own feet to stop him, quickly rushing toward the door.
"I got it!" she shouted, leaving her father to slowly return to his seat, watching Lena leave the window with a suddenly look of shock on her face as her head jerked downward, having unknowingly stepping on a flower or something.
Jack's lips shrunk into a frown as she disappeared, taking another swig of coffee as his eyes closed. Meanwhile, Angela excitedly pulled the front door open, revealing Lena on the other side, her father's third-mate and, certainly, worthy of such a rank, given her energy. Lena excitedly hopped into the home, taking Angela into a tight hug.
"Kiddo!" she shouted, happily, "You've grown so much since I last saw you! You were, what, eleven?"
"Try eighteen," Angela corrected, amusingly, "And that was just a year or two ago."
"Huh," Lena thought aloud, simply giving a smile and a shrug as she simply accepted Angela's explanation, "Well, whatever you say!"
Lena was a ball of energy, which made her near-perfect for her role as third-mate. For the longest time, it held responsibilities that Captain Morrison simply held for himself, but upon porting in London one day, he was astounded by her quickness. She was working as a simple errand-girl for the shipyard, running papers back and forth, but Morrison was shocked by her ability to never stop- when faced with a crowd, she simply jumped onto crates or even buildings, furiously dashing from point to point.
Bringing her aboard, she had been around ships enough to understand most things, and given her ability to move quickly, she rather hurriedly worked her way to third-mate, which she felt was simply a glorified look-out, though Morrison also had her relaying messages and keeping everything running smoothly. Her quickness at climbing up to the crow's nest had even become legendary in certain deckhand circles.
Immediately upon being led into the dining room, Lena jumped toward her Captain, wrapping her arms around him in an unreciprocated hug, leaving the man wholly unamused by the act as he muttered, "At ease, please. You're making me look bad in front of my daughter."
"Look bad?!" Lena shouted as she returned to her feet, "Angela, you don't see any softies here, do ya?"
"Nope!" Angela confirmed with a grin, "I only see you and my father! A man so stable no wind could ever tear him asunder!"
Jack stared at his daughter disdainfully as Lena wrapped him up into a hug once more, happily talking as she did, "See?! Good to see ya, Cap!"
"Alright, alright," Jack confirmed, gently pushing her away, "Nice seeing you too, Oxton. Take a seat; Angela will get you a plate."
"Ah, darn, I wish I could!" Lena answered, about as sadly as she could, given her still-bright speech, "But I just stopped by to let ya know that the Splitstream's ready for inspection tomorrow! I gave it a good ol' run over, but you still need ta check it out."
"Good," Jack nodded as Angela returned, sadly leaning against the entryway to the kitchen, "I'll be down there first thing tomorrow, then I'll consult with my daughter; I haven't seen her for a long time, so if she can handle me, I'd like to stay for a few days."
"Wicked!" Lena shouted, turning toward Angela, "I'm officially under your dad's watch, so I'm here as long as he is!"
Angela smiled brightly as she answered, "Will you be at the inspection? Father promised he'd take me to the shipyards tomorrow…"
Jack nodded, "Of course. Lena, I hope you'll tag along."
"Of course!" she shouted, "I wouldn't miss it for a tiger with spots on its back!"