for jollyboat: anywhere you go

[whisted]

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.

Comments

[jollyboat]

The new midshipman is a strange one.

Archie can't quite put his finger on the why, but the new midshipman catches his eye. It's clear he's just a little nervous, and perhaps that's what Archie is figuring is wrong. He knows nervous, after all. He very much wants to be able to help with nervous.

So it's easy enough to swoop in and catch at the coat that falls from the sack. It's easy enough to follow after the skittish young man, tapping briefly at his elbow.

"Excuse me-- Hornblower, isn't it? You've dropped your coat."

[whisted]

Whatever the ship has been doing to his stomach, turning completely bottoms his heart out.

This, after all, is the constant fear of walking on two legs. This is the instant horror of recognizing one's own skin gripped in the hands of a stranger. This sends a terrified rush through Horatio's entire being, almost physically painful, that someone else has such control over him.

Except that his skin isn't disappearing. His skin isn't being flaunted before it's tucked away. His skin isn't being rushed off with, hidden away, kept from him. It's being offered.

And Horatio isn't certain what to make of that, utter confusion widening his eyes as he takes a beat to work his way around the reality he's being handed back his skin.

babbling boy

[jollyboat]

That confusion is-- well-- confusing. Archie can't help the way he tilts his head just slightly.

"Sorry-- It is yours, isn't it? It was just behind you, and everyone else has their dunnage below, and I doubt any of the- - women aboard own this, it's far too heavy."

Maybe he's wrong, but he can't figure out who else's it might be.

"Warm, too. If it isn't yours, would you mind pointing out who else just got onboard? Perhaps it's one of theirs. I hate for someone to lose something so nice as this."

protect this child

[whisted]

It is warm. It is nice. It is entirely odd to have this piece of his soul gently complimented and offered up without protest or demand.

"--it's-- mine."

He doesn't mean to snatch at the skin, with the young man offering it so earnestly, but he doesn't quite manage. Horatio needs a heartbeat to simply hold his skin, after all, to feel its weight in his hands again, almost cwtched in against himself until the return is real.

Then it can be shoved properly deep into his sack, attention stuck back on the man who had handed him back to himself. "--thank you."

he is a GOOD SON who deserves GOOD THINGS

[jollyboat]

Whoop. That's a bit jarring. He can't help the startled blink at the suddenness of the motion, but manages not to freeze entirely.

In any event, the other young man doesn't seem to notice.

"Of course. I'm glad you didn't lose it." A smile, "It must be very special, for you to bring it onboard even if you likely won't be able to use it much. Was it a gift?"

idk if this one is a good thing but Archie can has

[whisted]

This gentleness is so strange. The sea isn't gentle, but men seem almost always to be harsher even than that.

His fingers--still faintly fumbling things despite the time he's been taking to practice--pluck absently at the edge of the rough burlap now hiding his skin.

"...my-- mother." It isn't completely a lie--and it might make this oddity of a man linger a little longer. "A long time ago."

; ;

[jollyboat]

"Oh!" He can't help but brighten at that, "Really rather important then, and that's a much better reason than some of what I've brought from home. At least yours might be helpful to have on shore leave, if nothing else. Most of my non-essentials aren't exactly what people would define as 'useful."

But he loves them, all the same.

[whisted]

Horatio has never seen a face brighten up like that. It feels as new and mystical as the possibility that a man would ever willingly return his skin.

"No?"

He isn't entirely here to understand how people work. Then again, he hadn't expected to be in this particular situation.

[jollyboat]

“No.”

A rueful grin.

“I mostly brought books, you see. Shakespeare, mostly. I rather like his work. There’s not much time for reading, necessarily, but I like having it near regardless.”

[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."

[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."

[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."

[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."

[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."

[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."

[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."

[jollyboat]

“Oh!”

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

“Thank you, then.”

[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."

[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.”

[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.

[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."

[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."

[jollyboat]

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

[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?"

[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."