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:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

"'ll right, then."

So he's going to start eating (maybe a little too quickly) so they can start getting ready.

From:

midship

The eagerness is good. The press of Horatio's lips in on themselves is still fondly amused.

"A little while yet."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

That earns a bright blush on Elliot's cheeks as he slows down a little bit.

"Sorry."

From:

midship

Odd, how familiar that sort of flush feels. It's been years since Horatio had been utterly plagued by it, but it drags at the protective sensation in his heart all the same.

"Don't apologize." It feels just a bit harsh. The soft huff he adds likely doesn't mean much to the pup, so he repeats softly, "I'm... excited too."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

That earns a small, if a bit nervous, smile.

"--Yeah?"

From:

midship

"Mmhm."

His attention flits toward the window, gaze squinting briefly at the waves. They're lucky, really; the bay looks largely flat and easy, with only a scattering of little cats-paws breaking the glassy surface.

"Should be a good night for a swim."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

He can't help but glance out the window to try and see what Horatio does, but has to accept that he doesn't know what to even begin to look for.

It has him sighing just a little bit and poking at the food once more, lips twisting as he figures out how to word the question.

"Did you-- really grow up in th'sea?"

From:

midship

That takes a beat to breathe through. It isn't such a terribly difficult question; it's just that it hurts to know that the idea is so foreign to one of his own kind.

"...I did." His chin juts briefly along the long sloping line of the coast. "Much-- farther north."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

"What was it like?"

The longing is briefly so entirely obvious on his face. The ache of not knowing is, for a moment, almost too much to bear.

From:

midship

"...free."

It's hard to translate the exact feeling into the language of men, but Horatio has learned to accept 'free' as the best translation over the years. It's something Henry has agreed with, which has settled the word even more in his own mind.

"Completely. Even-- when it's dangerous."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

The sigh that escapes his lips is one that is quite obviously aching. It fits well with the gloomy sort of look he casts over the sea.

"...I never got t'-- live like that."

From:

midship

There weren't so many things in the world that made Horatio truly furious. This happens to be one of them.

But he'll save the flash of teeth. He'll save the growling and the glowering and the rage of inherited hurts for a time when the pup at his table wouldn't have to suffer through it.

"You will." It's as easy to be gentle now as it had been with Henry years ago. "It starts now, Elliot."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

"Thank you."

It's a very soft, overwhelmed sort of thing.

"I never thought I'd-- get t'find someone else."

From:

midship

This part never gets easier. Horatio, happily, has gotten better at breathing through it.

"You did." It's a solid truth now. "You don't have to... worry, now."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

"--Promise?"

He doesn't know if he'll believe the promise, but he'll certainly try.

From:

midship

"I promise you, Elliot." Horatio's hand shifts instantly to tug the corner of his skin clear again, fingers pressed against it as he speaks. "You're coming home now."

Even if the home was new, it was still a return.

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

"O-oh."

His face crumbles again, at that. Tears start to well up in his eyes, but he bites on his lip hard and manages to get his expression back under control after a moment.

"Th-thank you."

From:

midship

It takes a good deal to hold himself back. Horatio's entire being sways with the effort not to sweep in and pull the pup against his chest.

"It's all right." The words aren't enough like this. "/It's all right./"

Maybe Elliot won't quite understand, but Horatio can't help thinking that their people's tongue makes it more real.

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

"I-it's-- all right."

He doesn't sound like he believes it, but he does sound like he's trying to.

From:

midship

"It's all right if it hurts."

There isn't a word for the pain that quite fits, after all, outside their own tongue. There isn't a word in any for the agony of never having learned the word in the first place.

"It's all right if you can't hold it in."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

"'m not-- supposed to."

He isn't supposed to hurt. He isn't supposed to let that hurt show.

But he isn't supposed to be here, away from the house he grew up in, either.

From:

midship

The bile that rises in the back of his throat isn't for the pup before him. The rage will come properly later, when he can fade back properly into himself in the waves.

For now, Horatio simply sinks a hair, trying to make himself just a bit smaller and lower to the ground--not quite as effective with long limbs and a human face, but an instinct all the same.

"...it's all right here, Elliot."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

He bites his lip just slightly, but does look up incredibly cautiously at Horatio. The nod is uncertain and comes after a long moment, but it does come.

"...'ll right."

From:

midship

"/There's a love./"

It doesn't mean anything to the pup, he knows, but Horatio can't help letting the little bits and pieces his mother used to murmur pop up over his lips.

"You're just... yourself, here."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

He doesn't understand the words in the least, but there's something soothing about them nonetheless.

"I'll-- try."

It'll probably take learning. He doesn't entirely have a proper sense of self, just now, after all.