[ action | House 36 | September 11th ]seventeensirSeptember 11 2011, 23:04:19 UTC
[Archie was seeing to Captain Sparrow, had taken him to his house. Captain Aubrey... can been walked through the teleportation device by Captain Hornblower-- who was still set against that machine. He did not like it, did not trust it, but it was necessary.
Now, Hornblower led Aubrey into the house he shared with Kennedy.]
My room, Mr. Kennedy's, and Mr. Wellard's. And this is M--
[He paused, catching himself. He tapped the door without thinking, as if knocking, then opened it.
Perfectly kept, as if it were just waiting for someone.]
This room is empty. You are... welcome to stay here as long as you like.
[If Jack noticed the pause, he didn't let it on that he did. Simply nodding and peering into the room deemed 'empty'. He smiled gratefully and stood back.]
I -- [Wait. Rephrase.] Thank you again for your hospitality, Captain.
[Ah. But he would trouble himself over it. Jack would spend some time thinking about how he could repay the three for allowing him to come aboard. Especially when he had literally nothing to offer.]
....Odd looking washroom y'have here.
[Everything was so... vaguely unfamiliar. Styled different than anything he'd seen but not so that he couldn't make tentative guesses as to what equaled what.]
[ action - CH6, #7 - September 15th ]halftheduetSeptember 16 2011, 02:01:19 UTC
[They'd been settled in properly for a few days now, though his bottle of laudanum remained elusive. He did, at least, have his cello, and Jack his violin.
Jack's presence, too, was a great comfort. He could be assured that his friend was not in peril, not getting himself into too much trouble without anyone to assist him.
He had not told Jack about the notes in his new journal, nor how carefully he monitored these strange, connected journals. Until he had useful information, he would not trouble Jack with his work.
For the moment, he continued to write down notes in his personal cipher, glancing up occasionally at the man tuning the violin, smiling faintly.]
[He'd be put out if it were, but he didn't know what Stephen was scribbling, perhaps the noise was irritating. Jack didn't know why but he dearly did not want to upset the peace that they had found with each other's company after wanting for it for four to five days.]
[ action - CH6, #7 - September 24th ] halftheduetSeptember 25 2011, 05:46:48 UTC
(I know, I know. Me again.)
[After a rather abrupt departure earlier in the day-- about an hour total at this point, Stephen Maturin lets himself back into the apartment.
From his hands to his elbows is almost entirely coated in blood, and his white shirt spattered with the red stuff as well. His black coat is hung over his arm, and his medical kit is in one hand, his bag over his shoulder.]
[action]straightatemSeptember 25 2011, 05:50:32 UTC
(Oh my god. Leave.)
[Upon hearing the door open and close Jack responds in a manner not unlike that of a dog racing to the door. He peeked around the corner of the kitchen wall and smiled happily. Looking very relieved.]
Ah, there you are Stephen! I was wondering where you'd gone.
Comments 78
Now, Hornblower led Aubrey into the house he shared with Kennedy.]
My room, Mr. Kennedy's, and Mr. Wellard's. And this is M--
[He paused, catching himself. He tapped the door without thinking, as if knocking, then opened it.
Perfectly kept, as if it were just waiting for someone.]
This room is empty. You are... welcome to stay here as long as you like.
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I -- [Wait. Rephrase.] Thank you again for your hospitality, Captain.
I won't be much of a bother, you have my word.
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[It's a sheepish expression he offers.] Two bachelors and a boy, none of whom can cook, I'm afraid. So, there is food, but it is nothing elaborate.
Things in this place, strange as it is, are quite remarkable, though.
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....Odd looking washroom y'have here.
[Everything was so... vaguely unfamiliar. Styled different than anything he'd seen but not so that he couldn't make tentative guesses as to what equaled what.]
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Jack's presence, too, was a great comfort. He could be assured that his friend was not in peril, not getting himself into too much trouble without anyone to assist him.
He had not told Jack about the notes in his new journal, nor how carefully he monitored these strange, connected journals. Until he had useful information, he would not trouble Jack with his work.
For the moment, he continued to write down notes in his personal cipher, glancing up occasionally at the man tuning the violin, smiling faintly.]
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[He'd be put out if it were, but he didn't know what Stephen was scribbling, perhaps the noise was irritating. Jack didn't know why but he dearly did not want to upset the peace that they had found with each other's company after wanting for it for four to five days.]
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[He chuckled, giving Jack a proper smile.]
Making a few notes about the day, nothing more.
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[A few more turns of the peg, being careful not to stretch the string so far as to break it but as taut as it could be.
He plucked out a few notes in pizzi. Fingers on the board pressing down to make the beginnings of a tune.]
Will you join me shortly? A violin sounds quite lonely scraping along by itself.
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[After a rather abrupt departure earlier in the day-- about an hour total at this point, Stephen Maturin lets himself back into the apartment.
From his hands to his elbows is almost entirely coated in blood, and his white shirt spattered with the red stuff as well. His black coat is hung over his arm, and his medical kit is in one hand, his bag over his shoulder.]
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[Upon hearing the door open and close Jack responds in a manner not unlike that of a dog racing to the door. He peeked around the corner of the kitchen wall and smiled happily. Looking very relieved.]
Ah, there you are Stephen! I was wondering where you'd gone.
[Or worried. Which ever.]
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[He sets down his bag and throws the unstained (he thinks) coat over a nearby chair.]
Few stitches set him to right.
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Well, come along and wash your hands.
I have another shirt you can change into.
[Good housewife goes off to fetch a clean one~]
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