simplestgift | Seventeen Bells: [WRITTEN/ACTION]

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Seventeen Bells: [WRITTEN/ACTION]

On July the 4th, 1776, one Horatio Hornblower was born in Kent. If you see him, bid him many happy returns. He will most likely grump about it all day and act ungrateful, but don't allow it to discourage you. He does appreciate it, he simply does not know it.

[For most of the day, Archie will be running around trying to furnish a bedroom in the house for a new housemate. He'll end up in the library, Good Spirits, the grocery store, then finally the Battle Dome, mostly staring in bewilderment at the controls before deciding this is too scary and leaving. At some point, he'll also take a walk in the woods, rain or no rain, in shirtsleeves and waistcoat but no coat. After a while, he'll get back on the journals.]

[Filtered away from Grell, 44%]

If you wanted to surprise someone dear to you, to cheer her up when she returned from being kidnapped, what would you do for her?

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[He goes against the flow, man. Non-conformism.]

Bedroom it is. [He steers them both in the direction of the general store.] I should forewarn you that there are some fairly perplexing things in these stores, and I can't rightly say what they all are, but I can make a guess.

[Rebel rebel. William shrugs:] Kennedy, I've seen a man blown all to pieces during a broadside; I don't think I can be much shocked anymore.

And I've seen more than one, Mister Bush. It's the future I'm talking about, centuries into it. They have very strange things, there. Why, Jilly was playing music for me on a device you can hold in your hand. She pressed a button and it came out, clear as daylight.

No need to brag, Mr Kennedy. [Then he thinks of what Archie just said.] A- a button? [Like, the stuff that keeps jackets together?]

On the device. [He's picked up things in the last six months. Words. Definitions.]

Oh, enough of your cheek; explain what you mean, man! [Sigh, William hasn't time for you to screw around with him right now, really.]

It's difficult to explain! I'll have Jilly show you.

Of course, of course. [Sigh, whatever, you troll. William keeps walking in the general direction Archie's pointed out so far.] Music from buttons... Can't imagine, really, I can't.

Not from buttons, from--

[He shuts up. Never mind.]

[William shakes his head; he can't be having this. And onward they trudge towards the furniture store.]

[Le sigh.] What I meant to say is, if you have any questions about anything, I'll try to answer.

Well, I suppose I'll appreciate that more when we get there. I still can't see any of it shocking me.

I believe the word was perplexing, William.

[William knows what perplexing means. Dimly, but he does. Mostly, though, he's more struck by Archie using his first name. He doesn't comment on it, of course; that would be in poor taste. But he does note it down, somewhere in his mind.] Well, not that neither. No need to worry yourself.

[Oh, come on. You die with a man once, you're on first-name basis, right?]

Good. [He pushes the door open to the general store.] Welcome to a land where everything makes sense.

[William, who is very used to balancing formality and comfort, had not considered that he wouldn't need to. It's an odd place to land.] Entirely. [He surveys the scene for a nice desk and dresser, frowning slightly at all the other things, here, very few of which he can guess at a proper name for.]

[Archie beckons him to an aisle with bedsheets galore.] Most of them are cotton. I learnt something--the higher this number, the softer the sheets.

[Bachelors.]

Clever, clever. [Since it's free, William grabs some that seem to have a high number-- and feel precious fine to him-- and slings them over his shoulder. They're fairly plain, off-white and perhaps a little too big for his bed, but William will never complain of having too much of anything.]

This'll do me fine, Kennedy. You know, I've heard this place is awful-- don't like this Third Party business one bit. But... [William strokes the fabric at his shoulder. He's never owned anything this nice in his life.] I can't complain about the goods.

No, one can't. Here, you'll want pillow-cases. [He tosses some at William, nearly hitting him in the face by accident.] No one likes the Third Party business, no. Quite ugly, it is, even by our standards.

[He sputters a bit at being hit in the face with a pillow case, but, being an exemplary resilient sort of gentleman, recovers quickly.] Was wondering about that, myself. Heard there was a press or something. How'd you sign up? Do they keep commissions?

No, they don't do any of that. [Archie sorts through blankets.] Everyone in the village is a candidate, even small children. When the time comes to fight, they draw names and those are the ones who fight. No one can volunteer.

[William grabs a quilt that looks shockingly like the one he has in Chichester, throwing that over his shoulder also. This is nice. Familiar. He appreciates it.] Seems like a bloody awful way to go about it. How d'you expect to win anything with women and babes manning the gunnery? [He's not angry, just embarrassed for them. Don't they know how the military works?]

Babes I will grant you. There are women here, though, who can rip you apart, William. I've seen Buffy fight. Tell the truth, that isn't the worst of it. Last time, we were sent into the fray with no orders and not even a map. Their own scouts hadn't been able to return alive. We were only told to kill everyone we saw. What do you imagine happened?

Buffy? That poor girl? I think she told me of that. Shot a general by mistake, she did. [He tsks and grabs hold of a pillow.] Poor girl.

...She doesn't use guns, William. She does not like them. Thinks they're useless--she's said so. She prefers bare hands or blades.

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