Arthur Lester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theotherright) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2023-11-07 11:38 pm
theotherright) wrote in come_sailaway2023-11-07 11:38 pm
[CLOSED and opens later] yes, to err is human, so don't be one
Who: Arthur, Crichton, Darcy, April. There will be open prompts in the future too but it's late and I'm so sleepy
What: Ferret Confirmed; braille lessons derailed; antimeme gossiped with
Where: Cabins, library
When: Early November
Warnings: There'll be irresponsible drinking, will add more if/when it's necessary.
[ 1. Closed to Crichton ]
When Crichton walks into his cabin, he'll find an eye-catching yellow snack bag in the middle of the floor, open and empty.
At first, one might assume that this is a case of Crichton's annoying roommate eating in there and not cleaning up after himself (not unheard of, because if he drops a wrapper or a packet or some crumbs, it can take a lot of finding again). But a second glance reveals that they are pet treats, with a big glossy picture of a happy ferret licking its chops on the front.
The bag is, we cannot stress this enough, empty but for a few crumbs.
Surely he wouldn't.
[ 2. Closed to Darcy ]
It's Monday afternoon, which means lessons in the library. On this occasion, Arthur walks through the door in the manner of a high-wire acrobat who's starting to lose their balance.
In one hand is his cane -- actually, since the last one bit the dust in the jaws of a zombie deer, his staff -- with two fingers freed to manipulate the door-handle, and three wrapped awkwardly round the staff itself. The other hand cluches the straps of two large tote bags, trying with Sisyphean determination to keep them both on his shoulder. One bag is his usual, with notes, blunt pencils, and so on. The other appears to carry about his body weight's worth in bottles of wine.
"Oh christ," he mutters, as the bags slip and pull his wrist to a weird angle, and he tries to grab at them with his right hand without 1) letting go of the cane or 2) having it hit him in the nose as it goes past. He succeeds at one. The bags are now caught with a weirdly bent hand and two fingers, and the door closes on them with an alarming clinking noise before he shoves it back open with his foot. "Nooo no, please don't break."
It's a real house of cards over here. You really get the impression that, had he lived in the right era and had working eyes, this man would have killed at Twister.
[ 3. Closed to April ]
It's not a Monday. It is barely lunchtime, but the text from Arthur that appears on April's phone still reads thusly:
What: Ferret Confirmed; braille lessons derailed; antimeme gossiped with
Where: Cabins, library
When: Early November
Warnings: There'll be irresponsible drinking, will add more if/when it's necessary.
[ 1. Closed to Crichton ]
When Crichton walks into his cabin, he'll find an eye-catching yellow snack bag in the middle of the floor, open and empty.
At first, one might assume that this is a case of Crichton's annoying roommate eating in there and not cleaning up after himself (not unheard of, because if he drops a wrapper or a packet or some crumbs, it can take a lot of finding again). But a second glance reveals that they are pet treats, with a big glossy picture of a happy ferret licking its chops on the front.
The bag is, we cannot stress this enough, empty but for a few crumbs.
Surely he wouldn't.
[ 2. Closed to Darcy ]
It's Monday afternoon, which means lessons in the library. On this occasion, Arthur walks through the door in the manner of a high-wire acrobat who's starting to lose their balance.
In one hand is his cane -- actually, since the last one bit the dust in the jaws of a zombie deer, his staff -- with two fingers freed to manipulate the door-handle, and three wrapped awkwardly round the staff itself. The other hand cluches the straps of two large tote bags, trying with Sisyphean determination to keep them both on his shoulder. One bag is his usual, with notes, blunt pencils, and so on. The other appears to carry about his body weight's worth in bottles of wine.
"Oh christ," he mutters, as the bags slip and pull his wrist to a weird angle, and he tries to grab at them with his right hand without 1) letting go of the cane or 2) having it hit him in the nose as it goes past. He succeeds at one. The bags are now caught with a weirdly bent hand and two fingers, and the door closes on them with an alarming clinking noise before he shoves it back open with his foot. "Nooo no, please don't break."
It's a real house of cards over here. You really get the impression that, had he lived in the right era and had working eyes, this man would have killed at Twister.
[ 3. Closed to April ]
It's not a Monday. It is barely lunchtime, but the text from Arthur that appears on April's phone still reads thusly:
Drinks question mark.
no subject
"Over here!" April calls, at the usual spot in the usual spot. "Not that it matters, but what's the occasion?"
no subject
He's almost never given someone the real reason that he's drinking, and he's not about to start now.
"Let's say it's for... Guy Fawkes' Night, or Armistice Day, whichever is closer."
no subject
Anyway, one of the keystones of this friendship is April's ambivalence towards the truth, lies, and obfuscation and they're not about to start caring now. They raise a glass Arthur can't see and take a drink.
"Good enough for me." they say. "Like - Victoria day, or Family day, reason doesn't matter when it gets you a day off either way."
no subject
His cane skips off the floor as he gets closer. The light, wheeled number he had before has been replaced with a hefty quarterstaff, cut to more like a one-sixth-staff, and boy is he going to have some arm muscles back by the end of the week. Progress across the floor is a little janky. Going from his previous cane to a heavy tapping-type one has been... an adjustment.
"Family Day? Don't think I've come across that one."
no subject
no subject
Perhaps not to family, though. He doesn't think he deserves that.
no subject
"Cheers, may I never work in that town again." April says, and drinks.