simplestgift | Twenty-Eight Bells: [VOICE/ACTION(ish)]

[It's around ten or eleven at night when the transmission begins. Two voices, Kennedy and Bush, are sounding decidedly sloshed. They are, in fact, sitting at the bar in Good Spirits, because how often do you get to introduce someone to Romulan ale twice and see their reaction the second time like it had never happened before? Only if said person went home and came back and doesn't remember the first time. Due to this, Kennedy sounds considerably more sober.]

Your attention, everyone. Mr. Bush has something he would like to say.

Yes, yes I would.....What was it again Kennededy?

Begin with "my profoundest apologies." And-and end with...with the hair thing.

Ah! Right, right. *ahem* My sensherest apologies to the ladies of Lusheti....I like all of you and your is - hair - is very pretty.

Nunno, William, it's...the envy bit, that was nice. Do add that in.

I envy all of your hair.

And how silly a man are you?

Extremely, Kennedy. Siller man there ever was.

Now recite an appropriate verse.

Help me think of one.

What about, "O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day!"

It is.

And...why is that, Mr. Bush?

Hm?

Why is it a woeful, woeful, woeful day?

This isn't England and there's no naaavy. Missthenavy.

And...that's the only reason you insulted the crew, isn't it? Just want things to be like they are at home?

Mmhm.

...Do you need a bucket to vomit into?

Please.

[OOC: This is a joint post with

wouldntbetonit]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I put nothing in your drink, Mr. Bush. Not quite as hardy a drinker as you thought, is all.

[But despite the trolling, Archie is actually holding Bush's hair back while he pukes.]

Edited 2012-01-25 02:16 (UTC)

I can hold my liquor, damnit!

[Offense is mild and punctuated by attempting to stay on his seat. And stop from laughing. No, seriously. Bush is trying to stop from laughing. Practically a giggle!]

[Archie tries to hold William upright, and starts laughing with him. Maybe things got off to a rough start, but it's good to have him here.]

I think it's holding you, at the moment!

Don't be absurd Kennedy! Drinks don't have arms!

[This is a very serious concern which must be investigated with much pomp. Much.]

Might as well. A glass of water?

[Because this is funny, but he knows how miserable these Romulan ale hangovers are.]

Wise choice Archie, wise choice.

[Honestly you could give him vodka at this point and he wouldn't be able to tell the difference.]

[After a quick, quiet order, Archie hands William the glass of water.]

There you are. Good and clean.

[Siiiiiiiip.]

We should have done this before, Kennedy.

[He seems to keep forgetting that he forgets he got drunk with Archie before.]

Mm. [It's a sound of agreement. Archie downs the last of his whiskey and props his cheek on the heel of his hand, elbow against the bar.] No time. There was a war, and then I died.

Damn the war!

[Woah, that was...loud. Okay.]

And damn dying! [He raises his empty glass in a toast.]

[Toast of water!]

We must do it again. This. Make up for when we didn't do it back home.

[Very serious thinking, this.]

More often then 'again'.

More often than again it is. [A contented smile.] I'm glad you're back. Horatio missed you horribly.

[Aw. That reminds him why he thought drinking would be an awesome idea.]

I think we need more ale.

No. Not for you. Want you alive. Elsewise, Horatio would have my head.

Harsh taskmaster!

Pff.

Bah.

[Archie raises his glass to his lips...and realizes it's empty. He sets it back down and orders an orange juice.]

Now. Laaast time you were here, you told me about the explosive shell he put out with his hands. What other acts of heroism will he not talk about?

I did? Bugger, I was looking forward to that one.

[Oh well, got plenty more. Bush's eyes light up like a Christmas tree as he scours his mind for a real good one.]

Ah! I have just the one, Kennedy. [Bush settles into his chair, as if he's getting prepared for a grand old tale that's been told around a fire a hundred times before.

In all honestly, it might as well have been.]

There was one night - the ship tangled with a fierce storm, just off the coast of France. The men were just reefing the topsails when Styles, I think it was - yes. Styles sighted a quarter-boat off the larboard bow tryin' to battle past the waves. 'Course the waters were torrential, not even a crew of ten strongmen could have steered their course.

Cap'n gave the order for longboats to be sent out and help the poor bastards and sure enough they got there, but it took too long and that dingy little quarter-boat was sinking fast.

Two men and a woman were all that were aboard so it wouldn't have been much fuss if the sea had been calm. She pitched everything about that night, you can imagine how she treated the boats. Matthews and Orrock were loading them into the long-boat as quick as the could but the lady wasn't quick enough and a wave knocked her out the boat.

Nobody could see her for a bit - everyone was terrified she'd gone and drowned! When suddenly, Horatio jumps off deck quick as a shot. Full kit into the water! No lifeline or any such thing, he just goes off swimming after her and pulls the lady up out the water!

[Bush licks his lips and asks for more water, drinking a little this time.]

Of course he did. [Don't be fooled by his tone when his face is rapt.] Go on.

We got him and the lady fished out of the water alright - American, she was. Her husband on the other hand...

[Bush trails off invitingly. Apparently getting heinously drunk makes him theatrical.]

Good God! Something better than American? Not French...

(no subject)

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