Sixth Dispatch - [action]

[captainhornblower]

[Horatio Hornblower possessed a naturally quiet disposition. He preferred thinking to speaking more often than not. He was also often considered to be... "prone to melancholy" if a friend were speaking, "ill-tempered" if described by others. The two traits engaged and furthered one another constantly. When he thought for long periods of time about things that were not an imminent battle, his spirits sank. The worse his mood, the more he thought.

To stimulate the mind and make its burden easier to bear, Hornblower walked. Paced. The length of a quarterdeck suited perfectly, but Hotspur was long out of reach. Even the damned Retribution would have answered, but it, too, was far away.

Instead, he walked the length of a small wooden bridge over and over. That it was a known haunt for a particular pirate had either not crossed the Navy man's mind or had been dismissed. The click of his heels across the planks made him feel more at home. His solemn, focused expression remained unchanged with every step he took and every turn made to walk the path again as his customary hour became three.]

Comments

[simplestgift]

[Eventually, there are other footsteps on the bridge. Archie is not yet familiar with this interrupt and die policy with regards to Horatio's pacing, but when his friend looks that deep in thought, he knows to wait to be noticed.]

[boomchucka.livejournal.com]

[Selphie isn't too far behind Archie as she wraps her arms around one of his legs and looks up at him with a victorious grin.]

Gotcha!

[captainhornblower]

[Too many plans, too many worries.

He'd only felt this way, only thought in these same patterns, once before. He'd thought as diligently about how to handle Captain Sawyer-- if only because the horror of even thinking about mutiny had been shock enough to his system to keep him awake during long watch hours.

But now there were so many other things to consider. Archie's opinion of what he was planning. William's. Young Mr. Wellard's.

God help him if he dragged them into another Renown.

He stopped in his pacing when he finally turned about once and caught sight of a familiar figure. He nodded, as if he thought the man had just approached.]

Archie.

[...And there was a girl with him. A small girl. How odd.]

[simplestgift]

[ACK! His leg is now held captive. But he smiles in spite of himself and starts walking, intending to drag the tiny girl if he must.]

This is Selphie. You remember Selphie?

[captainhornblower]

Isn't Miss Selphie... a bit older?

[Surely Archie means that this is her younger sister.]

[boomchucka.livejournal.com]

I'm six!

[As for Archie...]

I caught him all by myself.

[Because clearly the cure for any type of brooding involves little kids, right?]

[simplestgift]

Rather like a fish! At any rate, Horatio, you are quite correct, but apparently the Malnosso like to send some of their captives back as children. It happened to Sayo, once.

[captainhornblower]

[Horatio has to smile. If only because of the way the child is staring up at him. He can't be cross with her.]

Did you now?

[Tall as he is, he leans over, not quite kneeling but bringing himself a bit closer to her height.]

Quite the accomplishment for a little lady.

[And then a look to Archie. Baffled. And yet... stranger things have happened, certainly... At least in this place.]

[boomchucka.livejournal.com]

I did! He walks too fast.

[And then she's beaming at the two men like this is completely normal.]

[all7seas]

[At the sight of Horatio Hornblower pacing HIS marauding bridge, Jack bristled, slightly. Damned interloper. Damned Navy whelp captainish thing, wearing down the boards that HE was accustomed to wearing down.

It might be that Hornblower was not yet familiar with Jack Sparrow's interrupt the Navy captain policy. It would be Sparrow's duty to acquaint him with that policy.]

'Allo, Hornblower! Why don't you choose a side, man? You're putting down the trout.

[captainhornblower]

[The sound of his name drew Horatio out of his reverie. His body tensed, and his eyes narrowed. He turned on heel toward the sound, glaring daggers at whoever had dared.]

What in God's name--

[It had almost been a shout, but it stopped as soon as he truly saw the man.

Jack Sparrow.

Hornblower drew himself up at the same time that he forced away the anger. He would not give Jack Sparrow the satisfaction of seeing him angry. Not more than that slight bit.

...Besides, this was a friend of Archie's, much as he disliked the idea. A friend of Archie's. Who was going to take Archie sailing. Taking Archie to sea.

He steeled himself and nodded his head once.]

Captain Sparrow.

[He was trying for civility.]

[all7seas]

Captain Hornblower. [This was returned evenly.] What in God's name are you doing on my bridge, sir? You're going to need a new pair of boots in a moment. Or legs. Wearing the pair you've got down to nubs, you are.

[captainhornblower]

[In his efforts to keep himself civil and neutral, a bit of honesty he wans't sure how to process slipped out. Nothing damning, at least, but something he felt he could have replaced with another answer and opened himself up to less mockery.

He was sure that was coming.]

It's the closest thing I could find-- in length, sound, and feel-- to a quarterdeck.

[all7seas]

Does your crew observe your odd deep-thought habits and barely-disguised brand of madness, Hornblower?

[captainhornblower]

They are surely aware that I take some time of every morning to walk the quarterdeck, yes.

[He will, for the moment, pretend to ignore the remark about madness.

Just as he will not remark that, unlike this man, his crew has the sense not to disturb him. He's only vaguely aware that he is left alone because his first lieutenant appointed himself in charge of seeing that the captain went unbothered through his morning routines.]

[all7seas]

Oh. Carry on, then.

[And Jack settles back against the railing of the bridge, arms folded, and simply watches. It is a very active, accusatory, mocking sort of watching, even though he's not saying a word.]

[captainhornblower]

[Horatio frowns, watching Sparrow.

Damn him. Damn that look, that expression. Damn him.

But Hornblower is set on his course. He will not provoke a confrontation. Or at least he does not intend to do so.]

Shall I take my leave, Captain Sparrow?

[tehoniongirl.livejournal.com]

[with her health much improved, Jilly's taken to walking again. Under McCoy's watchful eye, she'd relented to wearing a jacket to keep off the rain these past few days, but it hadn't stopped her from going out anyway.

Besides, watching the rain from indoors felt melancholy...but being out in it, that was something else entirely.

She's in a thoughtful mood herself, though more peaceful than pensive, when she catches sight of a form pacing on the bridge. The height is wrong for it to be Jack, but it's only when she's closer that she actually recognizes Horatio making his way back and forth over the small space.

Curious...and maybe a little concerned, she'll make her way over to stand by the railing...not quite in his path, but not quite out of it, either]

[captainhornblower]

[Horatio Hornblower wrestled with a hundred different thoughts and worries.

The idea of a mutiny here. His friends. The people he was responsible for. How many innocent lives might be dragged into this insane action? How many people would die? How many people would be considered ringleaders and punished? What would become of those who joined but were not killed?

It was with these thoughts in mind that he did not even see Jilly where she stood. He did not run into her, but their shoulders clipped. He swore under his breath and turned.]

Pardon, I--

[The canned apology stopped, and he ducked his head sheepishly when he saw that not only had he managed to clip someone, no. He'd knocked into a woman. And Jilly at that.]

Miss Jilly. I'm sorry. I didn't see you there.

[tehoniongirl.livejournal.com]

[she'd sidestepped the worst of it, and his apology gets a smile and a soft laugh as she shakes her head] I'm not surprised. Where were you? Because wherever it was was definitely not here.

[captainhornblower]

[Where were you?

The question strikes him. Not as peculiar, no, though that was his second thought. His first (and then third) thought was how appropriate the question was.

Because, as she had said, he was not in this place. Not while he paced.

When he answered her, his voice was low, contemplative.]

Somewhere between Renown and Hotspur, on the quarterdeck.

[tehoniongirl.livejournal.com]

Was it a good trip? [there's still an air of teasing, but there's concern there, too. There was no missing the pensive nature of his stance or the distance in his eyes]

[captainhornblower]

[He has to think about it.

To be back on the Hotspur... He'd like nothing more. That is precisely what he longs for. To have Hotspur back beneath his feet, spokes of the wheel in his hand, to hear Matthews on the bosun's pipe when he came aboard, to be back on his ship.

But the Renown... Dark and treacherous, the woodwork laced with blood and pain. He left that ship long ago and has always tried to never go back, even in his mind, yet he often finds himself there when he sleeps. It occupies a place as dark as or darker than Justinian in the recesses of his mind.

Was it a good trip?]

Are you well, Miss Jilly?

[tehoniongirl.livejournal.com]

[The pause isn't long, but it's telling. It hints at the conflict that his dark eyes hide so well, and she doesn't press. While she's willing to follow her friends into those dark places, she won't intrude. So she lets him change the subject, nodding a response]

Much better. Len's even stopped making faces when I leave the house. [well, not entirely. But it was near enough that she figured it counted]

How about you? What has you out walking in the rain? [for her, it was second nature. But there weren't too many others she'd met who actually liked standing out in it for longer than they had to]

[captainhornblower]

On Hotspur, I would take to the quarterdeck every morning, rain or shine. Six to eight bells.

[Habit. And a way to calm his fraying nerves, recollect his scattered thoughts, and try to make some sense of them.]