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

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Twenty-three bells: [WRITTEN/ACTION]

This is Mr. Kennedy. The Britannia, Luceti's new sloop of war under command of Captain Hornblower, is finished and for all purposes ready to sail. Unfortunately, as she cannot sail herself, Captain Hornblower is in need of a crew.

Not many are required simply to sail her. A half dozen at least, although we should prefer more. We do not expect exclusivity--in Luceti, there is no point. If you are already part of another crew, you are welcome to remain a part of that crew and sail with us as well. As the winter months are approaching, we are not likely to weigh anchor for some time, so there will be plenty of time to train recruits who have no sailing experience.

Thank you, and I look forward to any questions you may have.

-A. Kennedy

[He's using the "Lt." less and less nowadays in his signature.

Tonight he'll be working at Cloud Nine. He'll be home late.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I didn't think about it at all. I only wanted her to be safe.

[ in a cooler mood, buffy would have unabashedly told archie that the first step to keeping anyone safe generally involved thinking about it.

but she's trying on gentler tactics, lately. inspired. ]

That's all any of us wanted, in the end.

[In which case, he would only pause to clarify which part he didn't think about, which had nothing to do with Jilly's safety.]

Jack wanted her to be unafraid.

I'm not gonna debate this one out with you, Archie. I already said it. Blame goes to the labcoats.

[ and then to herself; however, that will remain firmly unsaid. ]

[Right. No griping to someone about their SO.]

Of course.

[ mostly? the topic exhausts her and dredges up enough insecurities to feed a whole support group. now that she has said her non-blame piece, she wants to move on. ]

I'm...still trying to find some of the weapons I hid away when she was little-ized. I can't remember where I put them.

Do you need help looking? [See? He told you you'd be great with kids.]

...C'mon, working man! It's late. You don't wanna get roped into a game of deadly-object hide and seek at Seven.

Not especially.

Lesson the...what number are we even on, now? Don't offer to do things you don't wanna do. Lesser people would've pounced on your offer of free labour. You're lucky I'm so good and noble.

Yes, that isn't a lesson I was taught back home. Although I was taught that one should always help one's friends.

Help involves moving a couch when a couch needs moving. Or helping to hide the bodies. Not, y'know, misplaced medieval weaponry.

I wasn't given a definition.

Well, that's the kind of fuzzy-headed thinking that got you into this hypothetical mess of maybe coming over and wasting your second half of the evening checking under beds and behind dressers for dagger caches.

Buffy, are you berating me for trying to be a good friend?

Mmmhm.

[For some reason, he is overcome with affection for her and plants a quick peck on the top of her head.] How adorable.

Hey! Hey, hey, hey!

[ there's a certain degree of smirking even as she waves him away. ] That might be all well and good back in the days of hand-kisses and here-let-me-take-your-arm but we take our incidental pecks kinda seriously in the far off future.

[ a playful bluff! she is prone to giving out affectionate, friendly forehead kisses from time to time, as well. ]

Is that the case! If you are so much more discreet in the future, perhaps the gown you wore to Dawn's birthday party indicates you are closer to my time than you believe.

That dress was both gorgeous and tasteful. Not a plunging neckline in sight. [ but a very bare back -- jack had seemed particularly appreciative of that fact. she certainly did not mind being appreciated. ]

It isn't the neckline at all. It's the amount of leg you were showing all the world. [Neckline? Who cares about neckline? Still, he's playful.]

Oh, please. That hemline had twice the existence of some of the dresses I wore in high school.

[Not good, Buffy.]

What? You should be applauding me. I've grown demure in my old age. Gone are the miniskirts of the teens. Hello, sensible twenty-somethings wardrobe.

I didn't know you before January.

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