[ because getting people to care about you is a good way to stay alive!!
in any case, the message about the circus bear nets oushi a bout of laughter from the other side of the wall.
and then silver decides that fuck the syntrofos, actually, ]
Yes, of course I do. Don't you? [ a pause. ] I'm relatively fond of Shakespeare. The orphanage where I grew up had a battered copy of Romeo and Juliet, which is arguably one of the worst of his plays to choose from, but it was the only book available, so I read the damn thing over and over until the cover fell off.
[ the voice coming through the walls is almost as startling as the knock — and just like the knock, he feels a strange tingling in his ears that has him reaching up to tug on one lobe, trying to get at an itch he can't quite reach. silver's voice shouldn't come as clearly as it does — and yet it does. ]
...Shakespeare's a pretty heavy read for a kid.
[ since they aren't going to bother with the phones anymore, he simply tosses his aside. it lands on his bed by his feet, but he ignores it to instead glance up at his ceiling in thought. ]
Though I guess you could've been a teen.
[ rather pointedly, he does not ask silver to clarify. ]
Is it your favorite because of the sentimental value? Or do you just like stories that are total downers.
Different times, [ comes his answer — he's used to this by this point, how much society and civilization and the world at large has changed in the centuries that follow his own. even the word teen is one he'd not known before hearing it from someone in this place; the concept simply hadn't existed in his time.
the question makes him laugh again. ]
Sentimentality, I suppose? It's a fucking terrible story, objectively. I guess it does teach you the perils of love, so there's that.
[ looks at the ending of black sails and laughs hoarsely — ]
Fuck no, that'd've just been worse. At least now it's just stupid. Imagine if they'd really loved each other? If they'd had years to be together? [ he huffs out a laugh, then, almost humourlessly so, ] Maybe Juliet would have burned down all of Verona instead.
[ he's seen what that leads to, losing someone you love like that — charlestown burned for it. ]
[ he's startled by the other man's bold sentiment. though he can't quite say if it's the words alone that surprise him, or the certainty that envelopes them. is he speaking from personal experience? no... perhaps not... there's a shrewdness to his tone, but it feels more like the kind of insight an audience might have, than something someone in the direct line of fire might walk away with. ]
There's supposed to be a library here, [ he mumbles. ] You could start a book club.
[ he pauses, squinting in thought. (idk timelines and i'm too lazy to check) ]
[ yes, indeed — he has spent the last few months an audience to all that violence, unable to join the raids because of his leg, staying on the ship instead, watching the fires turn the water red with their reflection.
the sentiment gets oushi a laugh in return. ]
No, I'm not that fond of reading. Besides, I think there's at least one book club in existence already. I suppose I did offer to join that one, though...
[ it's a far more astute observation than oushi would have thought himself capable of, but as he sits there, a few pieces seem to slot together quite easily. the chattiness (even or perhaps especially during the most inconvenient of times), the curiosity. he is moving constantly, in some way, and part of oushi wonders if it's compensation... for a wound that keeps silver stagnant and slower than he would like to be reduced to. ]
Plenty of things to do here, if you have the patience for it.
What can I say... I'm used to having things to do.
[ which is hardly the whole truth — but it will do, for now. so yes, the observation is correct: you will rarely find john silver sitting with nothing to do, even more so now that one might expect him to be sitting still. ]
Yes, I'm sure. Just a matter of finding the right things to do, I suppose.
[ one might say he's humoring the other man at this point. but there is a genuine curiosity there, despite himself. their first meeting had been... eventful, for all that they just stood around talking to one another. but in all that talking, they never did discuss much about where the other was from, the lives they lived before all this. he could tell, right away, that they came from vastly different worlds. the way silver spoke, the way he carried himself, not to mention the disconnect between their familiarity with medicine...
all he knew for sure, was that silver considered himself every bit a hero as oushi did for himself. that alone is a strange sense of comfort. ]
[ that's a genuine question — somehow, he thought he had... but their first meeting had been so much, sharp and yet the memories of it are almost hazy in his mind. perhaps he never had explained, then. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
i don't really have a favorite book
and at one point i remember wanting to be a circus bear
do you feel like we're better friends now?
no subject
in any case, the message about the circus bear nets oushi a bout of laughter from the other side of the wall.
and then silver decides that fuck the syntrofos, actually, ]
Yes, of course I do. Don't you? [ a pause. ] I'm relatively fond of Shakespeare. The orphanage where I grew up had a battered copy of Romeo and Juliet, which is arguably one of the worst of his plays to choose from, but it was the only book available, so I read the damn thing over and over until the cover fell off.
no subject
...Shakespeare's a pretty heavy read for a kid.
[ since they aren't going to bother with the phones anymore, he simply tosses his aside. it lands on his bed by his feet, but he ignores it to instead glance up at his ceiling in thought. ]
Though I guess you could've been a teen.
[ rather pointedly, he does not ask silver to clarify. ]
Is it your favorite because of the sentimental value? Or do you just like stories that are total downers.
[ because... bruh. ]
no subject
the question makes him laugh again. ]
Sentimentality, I suppose? It's a fucking terrible story, objectively. I guess it does teach you the perils of love, so there's that.
[ looks at the ending of black sails and laughs hoarsely — ]
no subject
...Maybe it wouldn't have been so terrible, if they were given the chance to let it grow.
[ he tries, and fails, not to let the word burn as much as it does. love. what does he know, anyway? not a whole lot, apparently. ]
Anyway. My teacher said he was better at the comedies.
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[ he's seen what that leads to, losing someone you love like that — charlestown burned for it. ]
Maybe I should have read one of those, instead.
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There's supposed to be a library here, [ he mumbles. ] You could start a book club.
[ he pauses, squinting in thought. (idk timelines and i'm too lazy to check) ]
Or join one.
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the sentiment gets oushi a laugh in return. ]
No, I'm not that fond of reading. Besides, I think there's at least one book club in existence already. I suppose I did offer to join that one, though...
no subject
[ it's a far more astute observation than oushi would have thought himself capable of, but as he sits there, a few pieces seem to slot together quite easily. the chattiness (even or perhaps especially during the most inconvenient of times), the curiosity. he is moving constantly, in some way, and part of oushi wonders if it's compensation... for a wound that keeps silver stagnant and slower than he would like to be reduced to. ]
Plenty of things to do here, if you have the patience for it.
no subject
[ which is hardly the whole truth — but it will do, for now. so yes, the observation is correct: you will rarely find john silver sitting with nothing to do, even more so now that one might expect him to be sitting still. ]
Yes, I'm sure. Just a matter of finding the right things to do, I suppose.
no subject
[ one might say he's humoring the other man at this point. but there is a genuine curiosity there, despite himself. their first meeting had been... eventful, for all that they just stood around talking to one another. but in all that talking, they never did discuss much about where the other was from, the lives they lived before all this. he could tell, right away, that they came from vastly different worlds. the way silver spoke, the way he carried himself, not to mention the disconnect between their familiarity with medicine...
all he knew for sure, was that silver considered himself every bit a hero as oushi did for himself. that alone is a strange sense of comfort. ]
no subject
[ that's a genuine question — somehow, he thought he had... but their first meeting had been so much, sharp and yet the memories of it are almost hazy in his mind. perhaps he never had explained, then. ]
I used to be a cook on a merchant ship.