Archer Avery (arcarius) wrote in horror_story, @ 2013-06-05 23:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | archer, cycle003, hunter, incomplete |
Family Time
WHO: Archer and Hunter
WHEN: 31 May, morning, long before guests are set to arrive
WHERE: starts off in the captain’s quarters
WHAT: Uncle Archer’s genuinely glad that Hunt’s here for another summer. And no, not ‘cause now he’s got someone to go running with him.
WARNING: dunno yet; scene in progress... though they’re probably gonna use Bad Words
The captain’s quarters were nicer than any other crew berths on the Mare Crisium, but Capt. Archer Avery maintained a fairly spartan decor in his cluster of rooms. He had the essentials, of course. Had a decent bunk -- a rack, in Archer’s Naval terminology -- in the small bedroom, along with a nightstand and closet space, a bureau where the bottom drawer had a tendency to stick. Had a bathroom -- the head would be the right word there -- complete with a stall shower that had some damned fine water pressure. Someone had designed it so his office and living room shared the same area, which was fucking fine by Archer. Fucking larger than his bedroom, at least. Had a desk that was bolted down. Had a bookshelf, similarly anchored. Some decent armchairs. There was a laptop that was now locked in the top desk drawer, though he’d booted it up last night after his drink with Max, to double check his knowledge of this Behind the Veil shit. Found a few clips to watch, which just confirmed what his bartending friend had to say about the show.
This room was an extension of the ship in the sense that everything was squared away, tidy. His white dress uniform was hanging up in the open doorway to the bedroom, ready for him to don before he made his very last tour of the ship before the guests were allowed to come aboard. The bed was made up, the corners crisp, the blanket neatly tucked in. Nothing in the bedroom or the main room was out of place. In some ways, it might seem a little impersonal, but Archer made up for that with what he had on the wall behind his desk. There were a couple of hooks that held baseball gloves, a couple that held uniform caps. But mostly there were photos and letters and other mementos, some on a corkboard and some held to a metal part of the wall by magnets. Predominant among the pictures of family, friends, and old Navy buddies were photos of his niece Hunter, ranging from when she was a baby -- a much younger Archer in uniform, holding her with a slightly bemused look creeping out from behind the stony expression he so often wore -- to more recent pictures of a strong, blonde young adult. The most recent was taken at her college graduation and Archer -- standing by his desk in gym shorts and a t-shirt, looking through a few papers -- took a moment to glance up and look at it. She’d done good. He was proud of her.
As was tradition on most ships, Archer’s quarters were located on the starboard side, just after the bridge on the same deck. It was there he was waiting for Hunter, so she could join him on a morning run. Running was something Archer did, something he needed to do, to keep himself sane. He’d run on some pretty fucking small ships in the Navy, ships where there wasn’t room to spare, but whenever he could he found a way. The Mare Crisium was fucking huge, several decks offering space for him to clear his head, especially when they didn’t have any guests. The captain had been known to run in the middle of the night, or at least to walk, to rove the ship when sleep proved elusive. Sleep was a necessary evil. He’d seen a few tough spots in his military career and sometimes ghosts from the past came to haunt Archer. The nightmares that bothered him most didn’t involve sailors, didn’t involve fires or fights; they involved deaths he couldn’t do anything about, the frustration and the grief finding an outlet in dreams that didn’t exist in his waking moments. Ben sometimes showed up and though it’d been years since the boy died, it still made something in Archer’s heart lurch to know his nephew was dead. That his sister lost a son. That Hunter (and her sister Beth) lost a brother.
None of this was lurking close to the surface today, though. He’d grabbed an okay amount of rack time. Probably not enough but Archer was too focused on making this cruise fucking perfect. So he needed to unwind, de-stress, and a run would help with that. So would spending some time with Hunter.