simplestgift | Thirty-Six Bells: [Written/Action]

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Thirty-Six Bells: [Written/Action]

[Written:]

In light of my new duties as first lieutenant of the LES Britannia, impending matrimony, and being bloody terrible at running a foodhouse, I shall soon retire as the owner of Cloud Nine. I'd like to continue to work a few shifts, of course, but the club will need new management. Which brave soul will shoulder the task?

-A. Kennedy

[Action only: He is enjoying the last night of the voyage, simply meditating upon the lovely roll of the ship beneath him. It's chilly out, and he can see his breath, but he doesn't mind, wrapped up tightly in his heavy wool greatcoat. Softly he sings a song swallowed by the night, evidenced mainly by the mist of it in the air around his lips.]

The maiden, oh, the maiden oh.
The sailor loves the maiden, oh!
So early in the morning,
The sailor loves the maiden, oh!
A maid that is young,
A maid that is fair,
A maid that is kind and pleasant, oh,
So early in the morning,
The sailor loves the maiden, oh!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nice voice.

[She tries to say it quietly so she doesn't startle him too badly.]

Don't think the maiden would like being loved as much as the bottle though.

[He glances over at her.]

Depends on the maiden.

Or how much the sailor loves the bottle?

[Amelia shrugs. It's not like she's an expert on relationships.]

What's your maiden think?

Despite all efforts to wisen her, she's deliriously happy.

I thought that's how it was supposed to work when people got married.

Oh, at the best of times.

So is there a reason she shouldn't be? Or that you shouldn't be?

No, I'm very happy. [He traces the grain of the black-painted rail with his thumb.] Don't mind me, Amelia. This sort of thing always passes.

I might, except I got lectured recently about how trying to avoid the people who care about you when something's wrong doesn't actually help things.

[Or something similar. It's close enough.]

What's going on?

[There's a long pause.]

I'm...not a whole man, Amelia, not emotionally. There are entire parts of me taken out and replaced with other things. I don't think I want Elizabeth chained to that. Sometimes I go into some horrible melancholy and nothing in the world can get me out of it. I don't want her to be worn down.

[Amelia doesn't fully understand, but she also doesn't think it'd be right to ask for details. So she listens, and doesn't reply at first, turning it over in her head.]

You've told her about this, right?

Yes.

Then isn't it her choice to make?

I also told Dawn, back when she was here. Didn't keep me from hurting her.

I never met Dawn, so I can't say anything about her. But doesn't everyone hurt the people they care about sometimes anyway?

...I suppose they do, at that.

So if you really want to be together, you'll work through it. That's how it's supposed to go anyway, right?

It is.

[He doesn't sound convinced, but perhaps somewhat comforted.]

Just be glad you don't break out into hives whenever someone touches you.

[Said as a joke.]

[And it gets a rather weak smile.] I do have that, yes.

[Well, it's progress.]

So what other songs do you know?

A good many. Not all of which would be well-received by present company.

So pick one that isn't going to make me want to punch you.

[A small chuckle.]

And ye shall walk in silk attire,
And siller ha'e to spare,
Gin ye'll consent to be his bride;
Nor think o' Donald mair.
Oh! wha wad buy a silken gown,
Wi' a poor broken heart?
Or what's to me a siller crown,
Gin frae my love I part.
And ye shall walk in silk attire
And siller ha'e to spare,
Gin ye'll consent to be his bride,
Nor think o' Donald mair.

[It's catchy, even if Amelia doesn't quite understand all the words. She picks up the tune easily enough, and by the end, even hums along.]

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