simplestgift | Twenty-two bells: [WRITTEN/ACTION]

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Twenty-two bells: [WRITTEN/ACTION]

[Filtered from known villains and Grell, 100% unhackable]

[The handwriting is disguised and the picture is obscured.]

For the benefit of the new feathers: if you feel unsafe somehow in your own home, you may go to the Welcome Center and be placed in a safe house until you can get back on your feet. There does not have to be a reason. Even if you have returned from a kidnapping and do not wish to be alone, this is available to you.

[/Filter]

[Later, another written message, without the picture obscured.]

To anyone who volunteered to help build the ship:

We will begin work on Monday, at eight o'clock in the morning. We will meet at the fountain and walk from there. It'll mostly be cutting and transporting lumber at first, I'm afraid, and that includes building a cart to transport the lumber in.

Thank you,

Lt. Kennedy

[Then, written more hastily a little while later:]

If anyone has stories about Dr. McCoy, I should like to hear them.

[Today, Kennedy is stopping at the grocery store and the smithy, hoping someone with experience at the forge will be up to the challenge he has in mind.

Tonight, he is back to work at Cloud Nine, mostly waiting tables and looking fairly miserable. It's his first night of work since Dr. McCoy left, and since he dislikes the job anyway, he's not doing great at it tonight.

Before he goes home, he will stop by house 7. He will be home late.]

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Thank you for inviting me into your home.

[He counters, bowing his head just slightly. Though it may seem to have been a contentious question to Archie, Norrington finds that he is only too willing to advise the young admiral on the manner in which he should conduct himself aboard a navy ship. Perhaps if James had been on active duty the admiral might have expressed greater reluctance, but the navy has no hold on him here, and he has no responsibility to it.

And furthermore, he is slowly coming to realise this.]

Now, perhaps you might oblige me -- how did these events conclude in actuality?

[A pause. He doesn't feel like Sawyer is really his story to tell. Keene, perhaps, but Keene wasn't a bad sort, just frail and oblivious.]

...Which events?

Why Lieutenant Kennedy, the events to which you have been alluding this short while past.

[An invasive question, yes, but he provided Archie with his perspective on this issue. It seems to Norrington that he is therefore due a little give.]

Edited 2011-10-22 19:03 (UTC)

I wasn't referring to a single set of events, sir.

[Just...mostly Sawyer.]

I see.

[It is possible that he is telling the truth, of course, posing a hypothetical puzzle. On the other hand, it is entirely more likely that he is withholding the circumstances of an event for which he feels shame or regret. It irks the admiral a little, but ultimately he has no claim to the knowledge. It is none of his business.]

Then I apologize for pushing the matter.

[He lets out a breath--releasing tension before speaking about something difficult, not registering impatience. Really, he can't talk about Sawyer to an admiral. Not when Horatio really was responsible for making the captain fall into the hold.]

There's no need to apologize. I...could tell you something about Captain Keene, but not...not the other one. It isn't my story to tell, I'm afraid.

I have no desire to compel you to speak on a matter with which you feel uncomfortable.

[That may not have been true a moment ago, but by now the sense of entitlement has begun to fade. To cover the following silence he leans forward and opens the lid of the tea-pot. Empty. He frowns into its dark interior.]

Edited 2011-10-24 17:14 (UTC)

Allow me, sir. [Archie sweeps up the teapot, but not without casting the man a grateful, if brief, smile.]

[Norrington nods to that smile - or is he simply dropping his head to turn his attention from Archie to the table in front of him? With the side of his thumb he obliterates a ring which the pot has left behind it, a water-mark on the table.]

Were you present in Luceti last winter?

[Archie carries the tray into the kitchen and answers from there.] I was.

[He may not be able to see the Lieutenant, but Norrington isn't going to raise his voice. Not indoors. That would be undignified.]

Then tell me - what can I expect of the climate of this place? Will it likely snow? Or will we will rather be more concerned with rain?

Not really any rain, no. Quite a bit of snow. Not quite as hard as winters back home were. In Scotland, I mean, not on Earth in general. Not even in England, really. Somewhere in between.

[Suddenly, though, Norrington is not certain just how far he is willing to trust last year's forecast as a benchmark for the coming months. He had thought that it would do him good, but now? Now that he has the information he realizes to his dismay that Luceti is place of uncertainty, of sudden shifts and other surprises.]

A pity. A little more rain would not go amiss. I find that it brings England vividly to mind.

I preferred the sun in England. No reason it should change now. [Archie sets the electric tea kettle on to heat and comes back into the living room with a plate of ladyfingers for the meantime, setting it on the coffee table.]

Edited 2011-10-26 23:13 (UTC)

[Norrington will not take one of the offered lady fingers until Archie does so first. Another matter of courtesy.]

I have had quite enough of the sun during my service around the islands of the Carribbean. Besides, I am of the opinion that rain is Britain's element. The hues of the place never seem quite right unless viewed through a veil of fresh and falling rain, beneath a viel of clouds.

[A smile teases the edges of his lips. Is he joking, perhaps? Or simply recalling a fond memory?]

[Either way, the poetic language brings a very real, almost mystified smile to Archie's face. He sits and takes a ladyfinger with a degree of delicacy.] I was in the West Indies, back home. Before I came here. I thought I could never tire of what seemed to be an endless summer, at first. [He takes a bite.]

[Perhaps the tea is making him whistful. Or perhaps it is the certain knowledge that he will never be returning to England again. Either way, he does not feel as though the fanciful mood that is coming over him is fit for polite company.]

I thank you for your hospitality, truly, but I believe it has come time for me to leave.

It was certainly a pleasure! [Spoken with a sincerity that surprises even Archie. He stands.] If you don't mind, sir--Captains Hornblower and Aubrey and Dr. Maturin and I, we have something of a proper English dinner once a week. Nothing formal, of course, but it's the sort of food and company one misses from home. If you'd like to make an appearance. It would be our honor.

[The admiral stands, too, though he leans back slightly in the fact of so much enthusiasm.]

Oh, I would not wish to impose -- if there is any chance...

[Sincere, but not over-energetic. There's as much nervousness as anything. He knows how to behave properly, even if he's used to being charismatic to get away with audacity.]

It's only dinner, sir. You wouldn't be imposing. We should be glad of the company.

Then I would be glad to attend. Thank you. Where are these meals conducted?

Here, sir. When the ship is finished, we hope to have them in the captain's cabin.

Very good. I shall look forward to it.

[He nodded again and bowed, stepping out from between his seat and the table.]

Edited 2011-10-30 17:47 (UTC)

[Archie walked the admiral to the door and opened it for him.]

Thank you for coming, Admiral.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Twenty-two bells: [WRITTEN/ACTION]

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I can't spell. Apparently.

/points and laughs

/cries all over his keyboard.

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Some corner of a foreign field shall be forever England...

lol Awww

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Tagging at work = fail tagging.

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