simplestgift | Twenty-five Bells: [Written/Action] Night of the 24th and morning of the 25th.

[The night is chill and quiet, and Midshipman Archie Kennedy falls asleep hoping never to leave this place.]

[The flickering shadows of the room, dancing to and fro with the light of candles, cross his sleeping face. Hours ago, he experienced his first Thanksgiving. He'd seen and tasted and been welcome even when he was too overwhelmed to speak. Everything about the day was beautiful. Everything about these ten days has been beautiful. Healing. He's been quiet, skeptical, waiting impatiently for the other shoe to fall out of this impossibly blue sky, but everything remains serene.

Before he sleeps, he remembers one last thing: the Lieutenant, as he is wont to call his future self, has no idea how good he really has it.

Oh, he knows he has it good, and he is grateful for it. Still, the Lieutenant is more cynical than the midshipman even as he is more cheerful. Why shouldn't he be? The midshipman has only been struggling out from under his reputation for a few months now. The Lieutenant struggled for years, heard the same criticism and more, the same pity and more, the same judgments and more. Now the battle is past, he is so terrified of having to fight it all over again that he sees even his friends as a threat should they learn too much. That fear makes him hold them at arm's length, although he pretends otherwise. Useless, exhausting fear. Sometimes he hides from it. Sometimes he runs from it. Sometimes he looks it in the eye, coaxes it away from the hold, challenges it to a duel, denounces it under oath, leaps with it off a cliff, but it is always there.

Maybe, just maybe, it doesn't have to be.]

[Before bed, he writes in the journal. He does not sign his name, but the camera catches a soft smile on his face as if a weight has been lifted.]

If I am silent, let it be because I do not wish to speak and not because I am afraid to be heard.

[The Lieutenant has always been ashamed of him, as he is of himself. Ashamed to have him as his past, and ashamed that he will not remain there, where he belongs. Perhaps that will change, although it will take a long time. Perhaps he will even learn to see himself as others have described him to the midshipman. You are happy now. Don't ruin it on my account. I wish you, always, the very best of luck.

The morning is chill, but he is warm and the shadows are gone, and Lieutenant Archie Kennedy wakes up a whole person.

For a time he lies quietly in bed, allowing himself to be pleasantly empty. Then, with a soft exhalation, he releases his death grip on his paradigms.

I am safe.

Kennedy believed, as others do, that he knew how the world works. Luceti, though, is not his world. His friends, and even some he never knew before, have seen him at his most vulnerable, and everything was okay. He was treated with decency and sometimes even respect. Always there is danger, but with it a net beneath his feet to catch him. He thinks he understands Guy Burgess' little utterance a little better now--friendship is everything.

I am loved.

This one is harder. Accepting this means he will have to accept that there is something about him to love. That will come in time. Hard to believe or not, it's truth. He is loved, and to deny it is a fruitless insult to himself and, more importantly, those who love him. Loved.

He feels unstoppable.

It won't last forever, of course. It's still a step forward, and he's not quite sure where it will take him. It is, nevertheless, a step that must be taken and a choice that must be made.]

[After cooking an unnecessarily fancy breakfast for himself and his housemate, he writes again on the journal network, in his happy delirium forgetting to stay anonymous.]

It appears I have come up a bit short lately, but welcome to all new feathers. You should be told that if ever you feel unsafe in your own home for any reason whatever, you may speak with someone at the Welcome Center and you will be placed in a safe home for as long as you need.

Moreover, it is a bit late in coming, but those of us more accustomed to 'old world' traditions will be hosting a Christmas feast and ball on December the First. Ungodly early, of course, but we did not wish to compete with the new feather season round Twelfth Night. All are welcome to attend, but we ask you arrive in full dress--formal clothing. Anyone willing to volunteer to help with cooking, decorating, or music would be most welcome.

[After realizing his mistake and fretting for a bit that he wasn't anonymous for the first announcement, Archie will be knocking on the doors of house 7 and the beach house for some unannounced visits. Catch him in between if you like.

OOC note: Any IC questions about the ball that have been answered OOCly can be handwaved if you prefer.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I thought it was. So was your Thanksgiving dinner, as it turns out.

Us Americans do something right. Well -- us two Americans and Elizabeth Swann...who, as you might have noticed, is living here now.

Is she! [Clearly, he hadn't noticed.] How's she settling in?

Good...ish? I guess? We had breakfast together, last week. It's -- well, it's an interesting kinda situation all around.

How so?

Oh. God. Where do I even start? [ her voice drops. she isn't certain whether elizabeth is in, currently. she'd been to preoccupied this morning in her own room. buffy has practically just rolled out of bed after an active pre-mission morning with sparrow.

active as in a rousing game of twenty questions. no joke. ] I guess...I can kinda sympathize, now, with Jack. With how he must've felt with all these people from my home turning up and making the balance all...wonky.

[Archie's eyebrows go up.] I...hadn't realized they knew each other.

R-really? Yeah. She's...they did a whole adventuring thing together. She and James were -- well, nevermind that. The point is? It's a little touch and go, at the moment.

Is it.

[He can imagine the end of the "She and James were" sentence.]

And even more awkwardly? I know things about her future that she doesn't know yet. She's nice and all. I just -- you know how it is. Connecting. Not always easy.

Not always, no. But you did invite her in.

I did. I did invite her in.

[ and the feelings on that matter were vaguely similar to those felt when she had invited jilly to seven. but even now, buffy isn't sure whether inviting liz was an act of helpfulness or an attempt to keep an eye on the pirate king. the woman who had kissed jack sparrow before leaving him to die. she doesn't trust a person able to make such a ruthless decision.

she's made the near identical decision herself, of course. this only complicates attempts at reconciliation. not condemning liz swann meant forgiving herself. ]

I wasn't about to suggest that she stayed out at Cullen House.

Of course not. She was given quarters on Britannia, but that would have done her no good come winter.

Yeah. Yeah -- the Britannia. That's...kinda how we met. Sorta. She was board and we...went swimming. Nearby.

[ in november. ]

In November?

...Who needs warmth and common sense when you've got happiness? We were in a good mood. I thought one last dip'd be nice before everything went all arctic and -- yeah, it was freezing. There was temperature-related yelping. It caught her attention.

Oh, God. No wonder she probably thinks I'm a floozy.

Very possibly she does, yes. Although it's difficult to say, with her being a pirate and all.

But she wasn't always a pirate, was she? Not like Jack -- born into it. And she's got the whole gown thing going on and...how long did you know she was here, anyway?

She first appeared on board the Britannia. In the captain's cabin, no less. Made for a hell of a misunderstanding.

Maybe they just follow her around. Misunderstandings.

I take it your first meeting with her went no smoother.

Nope. Because crawling out of a November ocean in your undies with Jack Sparrow on your arm is apparently bad for your rep. And something tells me that Jack playing the monogamist is gonna be a hard sell to anyone who knows him well from home.

...Plus I might have accidentally glared.

Accidentally? [A beat.] She and Jack?

[Seriously. Jack's history is getting ridiculous.]

Wh-what? No. Not...they didn't. Haven't. I don't think they have...no, impossible. [ buffy knows so much about elizabeth; she finds it eerie. ] But I think there's...tension. I know there's tension. Kinda hard not to spot those things.

She's very much...supposedly devoted to someone else, according to what Jack's told me -- God, ages ago now.

[ and it's sad. and it's tragic. ten years apart. ]

Then what's the trouble?

(no subject)

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