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

'Books' are passingly familiar. 'Shakespeare' is entirely a mystery.

What's still drawing Horatio in is that simple little grin--that easy exposure of something precious without the faintest hint of fear.

"They're-- yours."

From:

jollyboat

"Yeah."

A broadening of that smile.

"You'll find it's important to have something like that, out here. It's good you've got one."

From:

whisted

His teeth will always be a little too long. When he flashes them, his eyes will always seem a little too dark.

Still, his lips can surely pull back without a toothy grin, head ducking in something like a nod.

"--I'll keep it-- safe."

From:

jollyboat

That's a nice smile. He wonders what it'd look like if he gave a proper one.

"'ll keep an eye out, too, just in case, if you like."

From:

whisted

Oh.

Handing his skin back had been endearing. Offering to protect his skin? That's utterly captivating.

Horatio can practically feel a physical sensation of devotion wrapping around this particular sailor. It's as if a piece of his soul is scrambling free, rushing to claim an interest in this fascinating man who seems so ready to protect Horatio's own fragile freedom.

"And-- yours."

From:

jollyboat

A kindly laugh.

"Yes, I definitely will keep an eye on mine."

"That is, unless you're-- offering. Which is very kind of you, if you are, and a good reminder for me, if you aren't."

From:

whisted

"Yes."

That's not clear. Even Horatio knows that's not clear. It's just such a wonderful thing to be awash in human kindness--such a rare, blissfully wonderful thing.

"I want to-- help."

From:

jollyboat

“Oh!”

He can’t help that that earns a pleased little expression on his face; a hint of a blush.

“Thank you, then.”

From:

whisted

It would be nice to smile properly, naturally. Then again, it would be nice to just collapse in against this strange new creature that feels a bit like a strange new home, to get the young man's scent properly from the crook of his neck.

But that wouldn't be appropriate. And his teeth wouldn't be friendly.

Instead, he settles for unconsciously touching his own chest. "Horatio."

From:

jollyboat

A broader grin. It’s been a while since he’d gotten first names right off the bat.

“Archie. Archie Kennedy. ‘s nice to meet you.”

From:

whisted

"You as well."

That piece feels more natural. Some piece of Horatio feels relieved that perhaps the sense of fascination will wear off--that perhaps he'll simply find his footing now.

Most of him knows that it's too late now. This is the man whose ship he'll be tailing behind until the end of his days.

From:

jollyboat

That keeps Archie's smile settled easily on his lips. That has him wanting to help as much as he can.

"Have you been t'see the lieutenant, yet? We can get y'settled."

From:

whisted

Maybe it will seem natural. Maybe it won't be such a terrible thing to stick close to another midshipman while learning the ropes.

"Thank you. A-Again."

From:

jollyboat

"'f course," he answers brightly, "C'mon, Lieutenant Eccleston's just this way, I believe."

From:

whisted

Archie is easy to follow. Thankfully, Horatio is also particularly good at being a shadow. It's more than likely half the crew will barely notice him beside someone as bright and sparking as Archie.

One had to hope, at any rate.

And one had to hope that Archie wouldn't mind the light pluck at his elbow as Horatio attempting to stow his meager things. "Will-- you help me hide it?"

From:

jollyboat

He's surprised the young man picks him to ask, though he supposes it makes sense with how lost he seems. Archie tries not to let himself get too pleased by the fact-- He'd been kind, after all.

Still, he can't help the little grin as he bobs his head in a nod.

"Of course! Though I'm afraid you won't have many options-- it's best to keep it in here, and there's precious little in the way of space."

From:

whisted

Proud and wild as his kind always are, there's something uniquely binding about having one's soul handed back without fuss or deception. The act is entirely tethering--not tight and restrictive, but easily felt.

None of that makes the words any easier to hear. Horatio's features aren't terribly mobile, but they seem to fall slightly all the same.

"It's... important. To-- keep it safe."

From:

jollyboat

Oh, he doesn’t like that at all, small though the shift in features is. He worries a little at his bottom lip, the motion a quietly fretful thing.

“It’s just if you keep it anywhere else it’s more likely to be stumbled on by someone else, and I imagine you wouldn’t want that. There’s not much in the way of privacy on a ship, I’m afraid.”

A slight shrug.

“I could— keep it in my sea chest, I suppose. Most of the other midshipmen— like me well enough that they’re like as not to trouble me. But it’d be far better to keep it in your own chest— somewhere in the middle of it, mm? So anyone snooping would think there’s something else far more interesting below it. If you’ve anything you don’t mind possibly losing that looks more precious than it is, I’d put that at the bottom.”

From:

whisted

The rush of fear is brief. This is an offer, not a demand. This is a suggestion, not a trick. Archie had already given his skin back once. There was no reason to think the young man was properly trying to steal it now.

Horatio lets his lips press together briefly, sorting through the suggestions carefully.

"In the middle." He can do that. He can also fish briefly in his pocket to pull out a pocket watch--waterlogged inside, but not visibly worse for the wear--for the other midshipman's inspection. "Will this-- look precious?"

From:

jollyboat

He takes a peek at it, but doesn’t take. He nods after a moment.

“‘t’ll definitely be more interesting than a coat, I think. You ought t’be all right.” A crooked grin, “Just maybe try t’keep it secret that th’coat’s the most important thing and they’ll look for what looks interesting, instead.”

From:

whisted

"Our secret?"

It's easy to trust someone who has already given back a skin and made no effort to take a trinket of some value. It's just that human seem to attach importance to words, even if actions haven't followed them.

"Please?"

From:

jollyboat

"Of course."

He doesn't even miss a beat, bobbing his head instantly.

"I promise. Won't tell a soul."

From:

whisted

The proper smile is brief. The impulse is too strong, the new snagging devotion too deep-seated, for Horatio to stop himself from letting his lips briefly pull back for a flash of slightly too long and too jagged teeth.

"--thank you, Archie."

From:

jollyboat

All Archie knows after seeing that brief glimpse is that he wants to see him smile again. He hopes he gets to.

Horatio will certainly catch sight of Archie’s own, entirely bright smile at the thanks.

“You’re very welcome, Horatio.”

From:

whisted

It's a lovely sort of thing, having a promise. It's a comfortable weight in the middle of his chest.

Hopefully that excuses the way Horatio sticks to the other young man like something of a shadow.