simplestgift | Eleven Bells: [Action/Written] Oddly Introverted Today

[Tonight, Archie is out in the woods, walking along the river instead of the path toward the southern lake. Something about being away from the village, in the solitude of the woods, with the sky going on for miles above him, is closer than anything else to the openness of the sea. The strange thing is that Archie was never too poetic about the sea itself--it was the ships he loved, not the water they sailed on. But now that the sea is far away and there is no ship to sail upon it, he finds himself very homesick for that endless expanse. So he walks by moonlight, gathering his thoughts and finding as much tranquility as he can in the woods.

When he returns home through the village, it will be past midnight. He'll stare at the furnished, unlived-in bedroom in his apartment, set up for someone who never comes. In the morning, he'll wake up on the couch, beneath the mural of the Indefatigable. Eventually, he'll write an unsigned message on the journal network.]

When the wind embraces all the world between the sky and sea,
It speaks in my ear of the left-behind, dear friend, it speaks of thee.
I wish you a journey far and long and spirits high and free,
And hope that the wind still speaks to you, dear friend, and speaks of me.

[A few minutes later, he'll scribble the whole thing out.

In the morning, anyone will be able to find him about, grocery shopping mostly, but also just browsing the shelves idly. He'll hit Good Spirits a little earlier than usual and drink a little more than normal.]

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[ ...now, that looks familiar. on a whim, dawn sketches a quick drawing of a ship; it's... well. it's lopsided and everything is in the wrong place, but her talents never did have anything to do with art. after a quick second, she adds a question mark after the ship. ]

[He's not entirely sure what to do with that drawing, as he peers at it. He's not really sure he wants to admit to writing those lines, so he adds little cannons to the ship to make it slightly more accurate. Because he can.]

[ ...it probably is archie, then. dawn peers at the drawing for a second before adding tiny stick figure to the deck, and then after a pause adds some lines that are probably supposed to be hair.

...she really doesn't think your hair looks like that, archie. really. ]

[...Oh no, now that's just mean.]

I'm not entirely convinced the pen is your calling.

[ those were supposed to be pretty squiggles, at least. ]

Probably not. Art class wasn't ever my easy a.

Nor mine. [So someone suspects him. Who?]

So what was?

I don't think I would have had one. [He gets what she's talking about, more or less, only because of his ten-day stint as a schoolteacher.]

So, you're either part of a religious cult that doesn't believe in things like gravity or school, OR you're from before standardized education.

The latter, I'm afraid.

It's probably better that way, cults have this habit of killing people with Kool-Aid.

[ there are a few small dots, like dawn tapped her pen on paper thoughtfully before replying. she's fairly sure this is archie, so... in for a penny and so on. ]

I have this really amazing boyfriend, he probably wouldn't approve of me dying in a freakout Kool-Aid accident.

I shall have to look up Kool-Aid in the library. It sounds terribly dangerous.

[Can writing be deadpan?]

The grape is the worst, you heard it here.

[ survey says: yes. ]

Grape? This is a food?

Drink, by loosely applied definition of the word.

I shall have to keep a sharp eye.

Also: don't join cults. That might edge out the Kool-Aid a little bit.

Your warning is noted.

Do I know you?

[Because the Summers-esque banter feels familiar, but there are a number of people who talk that way.]

That's me, educating people about cults and their Kool-Aid.

That depends. Do I know you?

[ dawn, on the other hand, is sure it's archie. but that doesn't mean she can't still tease him a little. ]

[He knows for sure he talked to Buffy earlier. So he's going to guess.]

Dawn?

If they gave out prizes for figuring out who people are over the journals, I would have to give you a prize.

[ because 'yes' isn't wordy enough. apparently. ]

[Looking back through their conversation, he reddens a little. Clearly she knew who she was talking to.]

Now don't I feel foolish?

I know your lack of psychic powers are shocking. Or the other word... normal. Normal works.

And to be fair, a lot of people talk like me. You're on the unique side, so I had an unfair advantage.

You've the mind of a true tactician, my dear.

[ jjsdjsjs 'my dear'. just blushing forever, archie. ]

Someone has to tell the fight-y people where to point their swords and other assembled implements of slicing and dicing.

[ written ]

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[ written ] ...'defensive lamps' well done me

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