come_sailaway | The fun develops instantly.

Who: Watson and You
When: Post Info Meeting
Where: Anywhere you care to be.
Summary: Watson has a Polaroid camera and he's trying to distract himself. That's about it.

It's a lot of complicated feelings that everyone's dealing with. Even if Watson knew some of the details, he didn't know all of it, and now that everyone knows the permanency of their current situation, and things are not working the way they have been... it's a lot.

And he doesn't know what to do with that.

So Watson, with the late 1990s Polaroid camera that he got in a gift box for some reason, is attempting to distract himself by taking candid photos of people. He's not the most gifted of photographers, and this is quite a bit fancier than even the most portable cameras of his own era, but the joy of autofocus does make the entire process a lot simpler.

Reading in the library? Leaning dramatically over the edge of the railing? Some other place where you think you might be alone in your thoughts? Be prepared for the sudden click and whirr of a camera, and Watson will come over, smiling, to offer you the developing photo.

Closed to César:

It is late, and someone needs to come to bed. After a bit of hunting, though, Watson finds César in the library, at work and oblivious of the time. He sighs, equally parts fond and exasperated, and takes a moment to take a picture of this, too. Surprise.

"It's late, and you ought to be sleeping."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I was an army surgeon," he says, "in the second Anglo-Afghan war." Not that there's... any guarantee she'll know what that was. "A field medic, as well, until I was wounded. That was twelve years ago, now, but I fancy I've mostly recovered from that, and I always did keep my aim sharp as I could."

Watson shrugs, vaguely. It's a strange topic, sometimes.

Erin does indeed have no idea what he's talking about but her dim awareness of any war with 'Afghan' in the name reads 'an empire has a bad time'. She trickles smoke from her nostrils to buy some time to think.

"I'd be grateful," she says at last. "I can be...a bit bloodthirsty. To have someone on hand who knows better and can demonstrate it can only be to the good."

That is, in fact, a description Watson would agree with.

"I'm not certain we have enough firearms for lessons to be useful," he says, "but I'll help, where I can. First aid classes might be worth looking into, though. If nothing else, more people who know how to keep their head in a crisis are always worth their weight in gold."

"Amen. Just stopping the bleeding if you get got, even. I cannot believe how many people I've had to give the 'you're using that blood, it belongs inside you' talk to." Erin makes a Face, the Face of the long-suffering adult in the room. "My pleasure to have you, Doctor Watson, and if you need me for anything else I'm in Cabin 134. I'm not precisely as blind as I look and I won't lose my stomach if something upsetting needs to be -"

She pauses.

"...We have teenagers on this ship, are we gonna have to make that fucking wizard kidnap us a dentist?"

"Good God, but you're right, there. It's been a blessing no one's had dental problems on this ship. I could probably do the job, but it's not exactly my area of expertise, is it?"

Watson pauses over his cigar, and sighs. "But if you believe yourself able, then I will give you that chance. If we're fortunate it won't come to that, but I can hardly say that it's an unlikely situation."

"If nothing else an improbable number of us have large bladed objects," Erin says with a bit of a shrug. "Accidents happen even without malice. If someone decides to suds up a corridor and see how hard they can slide down it you just might need a nurse who'll laugh at them only after you've set the bones."

Erin offers Watson a flickering smile. "Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. And...I do appreciate the photo in the spirit it was taken. I hope your documentations go well. I get the feeling, drifting through this place, that we might all be due for some reminders that we're people."

"If you have any use or desire for it, you're welcome to it, of course."

Watson chuckles a little at the joke. "As though I could do anything so crude as fail to talk to a lovely lady who wished it. Do you know when and where your impromptu school may be, as yet?"

"Darcy has a fight club on Tuesdays for training, sparring, even a little firing range," Erin answers, walking right past the compliment because she's having a good enough time not to snap at Watson for it. "Currently I'm thinking every other Tuesday, right in there. All the necessities are present after all, and uh, minimal added schedule changes. For courtesy."

Oh no, someone who is not open to his flirting, what a tragedy.

"Every other Tuesday. Well, certainly I am available. And we really must fill the gaps between tragedy with something productive, mustn't we?" Watson shrugs. "I shall be there with my bag."

"I look forward to it."

Erin goes to stand up, gets about halfway up, pauses, and makes a sound of self frustration. He seems polite. Maybe she can tell him an uncomplicated true thing and dodge the complicated one.

"...And for reference I did notice the compliment, Doctor, but I think you may find your energies best expended elsewhere on that score. We're more likely to compare our tastes in women than we are to ah, court. If I've managed to make sense without saying this far more bluntly than your great display of courtesy warrants?"

Watson smiles, with an apologetic bow of your head.

"Forgive me. I flirt as I breathe, sometimes, to men and women both. Truthfully, I am... engaged, and very happily so. You need have no worry of my pressing an advantage where it isn't wanted. I'll try to refrain from it with you, if you prefer."

"It'd be a comfort," Erin admits, and then she flashes the doctor a smile. "But my heartfelt congratulations on your engagement. I'd offer to take the photos at the wedding in exchange but I suspect you'd like your photos to contain your guests and not whatever I happen to be pointed at."

She tips a casual, one-handed salute. "Don't be a stranger, Doctor. I sure won't be."

And then she Goes Forth.

The fun develops instantly.

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