It isn't either of those things on account of the crew. It's true that they wear on him, and the finicky tedium of the politics and the bickering bullshit may be irritating beyond belief, but that's why John Silver is quartermaster. No, there is a familiar domesticity to the lives of men forced to habitat shoulder to shoulder - as natural as hammer and forge must be to a blacksmith. But what she really wants to know is--
"There are easier ways to be a ship's captain as well, if I cared to." He could be anywhere but here for starters, feeding on the war-panic rich trade fleeing Orlais. Or if all he wanted was to secure some place for himself, well then Llomerryn has gone to scrap. It would be easier to step into some meaningful role there than to attempt to conduct any business farther North or here in Kirkwall. "The freedom to act how I please in a role that I've chosen" --matters of being voted to the position not exempt, as if he'd never wanted this it would have been just as simple to avoid as winning it-- "is a rare thing in this world."
(Sometimes the quiet of a room removed entirely from the sea bothers him as he's meant to be sleeping; it didn't use to, but he finds it's true now. When he thinks of rooms with set floors and hearths, crockery in cabinets, and gardens beyond their door, they belong to someone very distant. Far enough removed that he doesn't think on it now when pressed to. It's Satinalia and the question of the men is resolved at present. No need to be so goddamn dire.)
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-11-12 11:37 pm (UTC)"There are easier ways to be a ship's captain as well, if I cared to." He could be anywhere but here for starters, feeding on the war-panic rich trade fleeing Orlais. Or if all he wanted was to secure some place for himself, well then Llomerryn has gone to scrap. It would be easier to step into some meaningful role there than to attempt to conduct any business farther North or here in Kirkwall. "The freedom to act how I please in a role that I've chosen" --matters of being voted to the position not exempt, as if he'd never wanted this it would have been just as simple to avoid as winning it-- "is a rare thing in this world."
(Sometimes the quiet of a room removed entirely from the sea bothers him as he's meant to be sleeping; it didn't use to, but he finds it's true now. When he thinks of rooms with set floors and hearths, crockery in cabinets, and gardens beyond their door, they belong to someone very distant. Far enough removed that he doesn't think on it now when pressed to. It's Satinalia and the question of the men is resolved at present. No need to be so goddamn dire.)