whisted | for jollyboat: anywhere you go

He doesn't quite fit.

Horatio had known, of course, that he wouldn't. Even if he had managed to make his way onto a ship years ago, everyone would have known he was odd. Perhaps it's for the best that he's clearly just a bit skittish, just a bit uncertain of himself unlike the other young men his age. Perhaps that would distract the human mind from looking to see just why, exactly, this one didn't seem to be quite entirely right.

It was, nonetheless, one thing to know and another thing to live. Being bundled in heavy unfamiliar fabric is surprisingly uncomfortable. The uniform is far more restrictive than the clothing he had forced himself to become accustomed to while hovering around the port. The sensation of being on a boat, despite the familiarity of the sea, is throwing his stomach through something of a loop. He can't shift and change direction. He can't twist along with the waves, comfortable and easy, or cut through below the discomfort of breakers tugging in the wrong direction. It's unnatural, here on a warped version of the surface. It's twisting something uncomfortable in his shoulders, almost dizzying as he tries to find his feet under him.

This is what he wanted, and it doesn't quite fit.

For the most part, feeling his skin in the sack slung over his shoulders is reassuring. His fingers can worry against the familiar softness with each odd rush of discomfort. This, after all, is the back-up plan. This is the fail-safe if everything falls completely to pieces and he needs to throw himself simply back into the sea. This is the piece of himself which will always fit properly, no matter where he is.

That's why it's resting at the top of his sack as he scrambles up properly into the ship. That's why, in the bluster of humanity, the young selkie doesn't notice that his skin has spilled out onto the deck.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

whisted

They do have to hurry into their clothes. They do have to pull themselves properly into rights quickly and make themselves presentable enough to tumble down the stairs.

Horatio can't help stealing another kiss before they actually leave the room. He can't help sticking close at Archie's side when they do come scrambling down into the tavern.

He also can't help plucking at Archie's sleeve the next time they're alone on a watch.

From:

jollyboat

The kiss is going to make him smile. The closeness does, as well.

The careful tug at his sleeve definitely does, a curiosity in his grin as he turns to Horatio.

From:

whisted

He presses a finger briefly to his own lips. He gives one more tug before turning to walk toward the rail.

It's a quiet night. It's a night when they can be properly isolated leaning quietly together for a moment.

It's a good night to nod casually down toward the waves, where a pair of mermaids have been lazily following along beside the ship with an idle curiosity.

From:

jollyboat

He follows with easy trust and curiosity. He absolutely is lingering a touch closer than is proper when they settle again.

Archie is incredibly good at keeping quiet, but the sight indicated to him can’t help but earn a soft, surprised exhale. One hand catches in silent excitement at Horatio’s sleeve as he shifts cautiously to get a better look.

From:

whisted

It's impossible not to catch lightly at the hand on his sleeve. Even under his protection, after all, it's difficult to say what the creatures circling below might do if Archie went tumbling into the water.

The sea is wild. Her creatures are as well. Even Horatio, stuffed into his uniform and marshaled by so many rules, can't help being struck through with the same quiet danger.

The mermaids do nothing to hide the razor-sharp teeth of their full smiles. Their voices, natural and unbending despite the human at the rail, are a rush of noises which blend seamlessly into the soft symphony of the ocean at night, long delicate fingers lifting to wave coyly at the sailors.

From:

jollyboat

He glances over his shoulder nervously before tentatively waving back. He leans in just a hint closer to Horatio to murmur the question.

“Can they— understand me?”

From:

whisted

Even to human ears, Horatio is certain the bubbling noise Archie's wave inspires is clearly a laugh.

"They can." His own voice is barely a breath. He expects they'll be left alone well enough as long as they don't call attention to themselves. "The sirens teach them."

This particular pair might have been taught by Horatio, but that was neither here nor there.

From:

jollyboat

“‘nd can they— hear us okay? Talking this quietly?”

He doesn’t want to risk much louder than this.

From:

whisted

"They can." Which doesn't stop him from clicking his tongue at the creatures below to properly catch their attention. "They're just coy, sometimes."

With the amount he told them about Archie, Horatio suspected they would be too curious to be properly aloof.

From:

jollyboat

“And— they’re the ones, right? That— killed him?”

His voice drops a little more at the second question, even as he steels himself to speak properly to the mermaids below.

From:

whisted

For a heartbeat, his hand shifts to squeeze more properly at Archie's wrist. It's unconscious and entirely protective before his body can settle again.

"They are." They, after all, were the ones who asked after Archie--and who were fascinated rather than concerned about this most recent shift between the two sailors. "They wanted to meet you."

From:

jollyboat

The squeeze helps considerably. The squeeze has him breathing a little more easily, his shoulders settling from where they'd tensed up at the memory.

"'ve wanted to meet them, too," he murmurs to Horatio, before his attention turns to the mermaids, "I wanted to-- thank you."

From:

whisted

There is, unsurprisingly, a certain coyness as the mermaids watch the pair at the rail. It sinks almost immediately into a wild sort of glee at the young man's words.

Their teeth are sharp. Their fingers are like claws. Their eyes, dark as the deeps, are nonetheless the most obvious sign of danger in them--and now, those savage orbs are glowing with a certain unrestrained glee.

Horatio has to duck his head slightly to hear the soft clicking and snarling of the mermaids, most of which blends seamlessly into the lapping of waves against the ship. "They were.. glad to do it."

From:

jollyboat

Well. At least he doesn’t have to worry about any scars to the mermaids’ consciences. That helps.

What helps more is realizing how easily he means what he says next.

“‘s— good. He needed to be— gone.”

From:

whisted

Archie has been free for some time now. This still feels like a new release.

"He did." Another rush of soft whispering noises from below, and Horatio hazards a brief flash of his own long teeth. "They heard what I told them about him, and... they said the same thing."

From:

jollyboat

Oh. That earns a briefly uncomfortable shift. He trusts Horatio implicitly, but the statement can't help but make him wonder.

"What-- did you tell about him?"

From:

whisted

"That he was worse than the rest."

The men who trapped mermaids in their nets and dragged them from the sea. The men who stuck wax in their ears to bring themselves close to sirens and steal their songs. The men who took skins and hid them so that a selkie always trailed behind them like a ghost.

"That he wouldn't even let-- other men be free."

The hiss from the mermaids surely needs no interpreting.

From:

jollyboat

Oh. That's not so bad as he thought it might be. That has Archie relaxing considerably.

"'s-- definitely true."

From:

whisted

They're secluded enough. They're as safe as they ever are on the ship.

It's an easy decision for Horatio to duck his head, nudging against Archie's shoulder with an almost animalistic gesture of devotion.

The mermaids seem much more pleased by that.

From:

jollyboat

Honestly, Archie is much more pleased by that, as well. It earns a far happier hum from the young man as he ducks his own head to bump lightly against Horatio's. It's a brief gesture, but an entirely fond one.

"--Thank you."

From:

whisted

That deserves the flicker of a smile. The brief expression is magnified as the mermaids chitter softly below, clicking their tongues and calling in soft voices like the gurgling of water swirling around the sink of an oar.

Horatio lets his face wrinkle, much more relaxed and mobile with signs of home clinging to the ship.

"They said to tell them. If you ever need more help."

From:

jollyboat

Archie can't help the soft gratitude on his expression, at that. His nod is directed down more properly at the mermaids.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

From:

whisted

The next rush of language gets a huff from Horatio, his own voice briefly lost in a low little noise not meant for a human throat. The peal of laughter from below is likely recognizable, as is the light blowing of kisses before the mermaids sink away again.

"...well."

There's something hopeful lingering at the edged of Horatio's features.

From:

jollyboat

He can't help the brief wave before the mermaids descend. His hand drops after a moment to lightly catch at Horatio's shirt.

"That was nice."

From:

whisted

"It was."

Pulling Archie slowly and carefully into his world is more than nice, really. It's so much building proof that things really will slot into place for them.

"Thank you for talking to them."