high_seas | Friends are the family you choose

Entry tags:

Friends are the family you choose

Who: Antoinette crew and others (mostly non-combatants who have joined temporarily)
Where: The Antoinette
When: Jan 20th-28thish
What: Crew shenanigans, both light-hearted and serious, while the rest of the ships prepare for and do battle with the witch.
Warnings: Possible strong language, will amend as necessary
Status: Open to those on the Antoinete

The Antoinette is a strange ship to be on. The (wise) decision was made not to go into battle, so it has been offered as a safe haven for those unable or unwilling to join the fight against the witch.

The air of light-heartedness found might, at times, feel forced, and it is a bit. The residents have only their morale to keep them going, so that's what they rely upon.

(Please feel free to either reply to the subject headers provided or make your own! This is just a general mingle log for anyone on the Antoinette. If your character is a non-combatant who wouldn't want to go into the fight or someone injured and unable to join the fight, Kyouya has publicly offered passage, so feel free to handwave being there.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Kyouya's eyes narrowed at the stabbing.]

Sanding it is.

And let me offer you one warning: I was raised in a house that believed in corporal punishment. I will use the same methods if I must.

[Link looked up at him, eyes narrowed.]

I don't know what that is.

That means that if you continue to act like a disrespectful brat, I will slap you.

[The words are cold and precise. He hasn't always agreed with the methods...

But, oh, he understands now. At least a bit.]

I'm not being disrespectful.

[Link was genuinely thrown by that accusation. He'd been obeying all the rules Kouya had given to him. He'd politely called everyone 'miss' or 'mister'. He hadn't argued with painting the picture over, either. He was upset he'd have to get rid of it, but he hadn't argued with it.

How had he been disrespectful?]

You don't think it's disrespectful to deface someone's property? To cut into something that isn't yours without permission?

You are a guest. For that reason, I didn't put you to work.

But when you take it upon yourself to assume you're free to do as you please because you're bored -- when you've made no attempt to ask for duties -- it is extremely disrespectful.

I can assure you, I am being extremely patient with you, but I have my limit. You have found it.

[He honestly hadn't thought that was disrespectful. He also thought he wasn't given duties because his leg was broken and he couldn't walk properly. Which made him next to useless on a ship.

Link stared up at Kouya with wide eyes, obviously having to take a moment to process all that. It really wasn't something the Kokiri had had any issue with. Carving into homes and signs and large pieces of wood was a common practice. And why would guests get out of doing work. He visited his friends all the time and he still had to do things. Mido was especially fond of making everyone do things for him when they visited.]

Why is it disrespectful? Why would I need permission? Why wouldn't you put me to work if you could? None of that makes any sense.

[He truly, honestly, did not understand this.]

[Too many questions. Without a hint of contrition, concern, or apology.

So Kyouya advances a few paces, looks down at Link calmly, then moves.

His hand lashes out, aiming an open palmed slap at his cheek. Something sharp but nothing to leave a lasting mark -- can't leave a bruise, too many questions might arise. Just enough to sting.

If words wouldn't make the point that he wouldn't be talked back to, maybe actions would.]

[Link's head moved with the slap and he remained stiff, frozen with his head to the side for a moment after the pain of the hit had passed. He still didn't understand what he'd done wrong, but he did understand that Kouya was a bully. It didn't matter if Link had actually done anything wrong or not. It didn't matter if Link ever understood why what he'd done had upset Kouya. What matter was that Kouya was in charge and that he would hurt the people he was in charge of. More physically than Mido ever did, but it was something Link understood.

His shoulders dropped and he hung his head. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and pulled it from the wood to sheath it on his back. Then he set his hands into his lap and waited. He'd gotten message loud and clear. He wasn't allowed to talk back to Kouya or ask him questions. He just had to obey.]

[The moment the crack sounded in his own ears, Kyouya felt it. Every strike over the years. The many in private... and the one public one. One meant not to discipline but to shame. The last straw for an obedient child who had tried for so long to never take a step out of line. The moment the spark of rebellion had become something else. When pride had refused to be put aside.

This was deserved. He knew that. Felt it firmly. But he had no experience actually striking someone. It surprised him, actually, that his hand stung. Maybe after raising four children, that went away.

His breathing came harsh for a moment. Two sharp breaths. Then he calmed. He wasn't his father. That had been deserved. He'd needed to make a point. He took a step back. No apology. He wouldn't give one. Discipline had to be done, order enforced. But he didn't need to be a tyrant.]

I expect to not have to remind you to paint that over in the morning.

[He'd leave the carving. Allow it to stay. Just as a reminder to himself.]

If you're bored, you can get one of the others or ask me to get you a brush and paint. The railing along the ship could use a new coat, and you can sit to do every few posts all at once, so it won't tax your leg.

[Distant and cold... but constructive.]

[Link gave a single, shallow nod. Kyouya wanted the carving to be painted over in the morning. He didn't mention the sanding, so it would just be painting. And he wanted the railing to be painted, too.

The boy replied in a soft tone that was even quieter than his usual. He did not look up or move from how he had settled himself.]

Yes, Mister Kyouya. Will you please get me a brush and paint?

Of course.

[Another deep breath, and Kyouya walks away for a few moments, returning with the brush and paint. He set it down beside the young boy, began to say something...

Then changed his mind and walked away. Best not to try the situation. Either himself or the kid.]

[He was walking around the ship. As always a ball of energy can't be kept chained to a bed. He wanted to know what everyone was doing. It was simply too boring to sit in his chambers and read books on how to be a better captain.

Above everyone else, he wanted to see what Kyouya was doing...and he did. Tamaki never thought he'd ever see Kyouya lift his hand on a child. It was something he knew hurt Kyouya every time his father decided to unjustly scold and punish him. It was painful, they never truly talked about it before, but he knew it hurt Kyouya in so many different levels. And there was that time in public, he knew it hurt Kyouya so much to have his friends see that. So why did he do it to that child.

He was shocked beyond words. He couldn't hear the conversation but he knew this was wrong. But how does he confront Kyouya about this?

When Kyouya left for the first time, Tamaki hid behind a huge pillar and barrels. He was confused with the scene he had just witnessed. But when he left Link a second time, Tamaki was at the door waiting for him.]

Kyouya!!

[The first couple times Tamaki had seen it, there had been attempts to discuss it. Attempts Kyouya had quickly cut off. Because discipline was a private matter, and it was humiliating enough that his father had decided their guest either didn't matter enough to show discretion around or was important enough that he could be allowed to see and understand. Kyouya had learned long ago how to stand firmly in place, how to time the slap to move his head a bit to take off some of the pain, and how not to make even the slightest sound when it happened.

At the fair... was another story entirely.

But the fact remained that he did, in fact, know of no other way to discipline a child. If anything, he considered himself tenfold or beyond more patient than his father. He'd attempted to explain. He'd given the boy an opportunity to apologize and change his behavior. He'd refused, so he'd done what was necessary.

He was flexing his hand a bit, his palm still bright red, far more unused to giving the punishment than receiving it, when he heard Tamaki say his name. He looked up, wondering for a moment if... But he'd glanced around, he thought. Made sure there wasn't anyone else to see. ...Was it to save Link or himself the witnesses? Maybe both.]

Tamaki.

How are you feeling?

[Tamaki simply nodded at the query.]

I'm getting a lot better..

[His tone was neither cheerful nor cold. He tried to keep an expressionless face, but his fear, confusion and anger were trying their best to surface on his features.

But he didn't want to yell at Kyouya in front of their guest. When it was Haruhi it was okay, because she really had it coming, and his friends understood his grief. But those were his friends, and Link didn't know Kyouya the same way Tamaki did.

He had to fix this more privately because he didn't want to hurt any of them.]

...I need to talk to you. Can we go to my quarters?

[Kyouya took a slight breath. He knew that look, knew that tone. He remembered it from the early days of the Host Club, when they would whisper over their immediate disputes and one would touch the other's arm, nod to the hallway. Because it had taken time to be comfortable with each other, with the rest.

So, he gave another nod. Small and discreet.]

Of course. Lead the way.

[He needed to be discreet. Because this was no longer just them, or just the host club. They're partners once more in this world. Captain and First mate. And they had to make it work without making people worrying and making it public.]

Okay.

[He was silent as they made their way up to the captain's quarters. He took the time to assemble his thoughts. Because he himself was still in shock with what he saw. For once, he had to be very careful with words.

They arrived and he opened the door. It still looked the same way since Celestia had disappeared. An ornate wooden desk on the center of the room, maps piled on a side table, tiny navigation instruments on top of the table and a book case on one end with a handful of books. There was also a partition on one end of the room which led to more private chambers. Beside his desk was a thin pillow, which was a makeshift bed for Antoine.

He waited for Kyouya to enter, before closing the door. He let out a short sigh as he made his way to sit on top of his desk.]

Tell me what happened....

[And when Tamaki heads for the desk, Kyouya, rather than taking a place at the same spot himself, stands by the door. His arms cross over his chest, his shoulders pull up straight but stay closed in. Half turned away, closed posture.

Defensive.

He doesn't need to ask what it's about. From Tamaki's look, from wanting to speak alone to this, from that tone. He knew it all.]

He was being disrespectful. I explained, warned him, and got nothing but being talked back to.

[Tamaki's violet hues did not leave Kyouya's form. This was a serious matter. And he didn't want it to reflect bad on them. But more importantly, he didn't want Kyouya to do the same things which he knew Kyouya hated when being done onto him.]

Kyouya, he's a kid. He's probably half our age!

How exactly was he disrespectful?

[Kyouya focuses on a piece of the wall, not looking at Tamaki. He just keeps his gaze where it needs to be. Which isn't meeting Tamaki's eyes.]

Carving into the deck, for one. I told him I'd make him sand it down if he continued to look bored; he decided to tell me that he was bored and hadn't bothered looking for other means of entertaining himself.

If he'd asked for something to do? I'd have put him to work. If he'd simply apologized? I'd have shrugged it off.

[It's easy to keep his voice even. To reveal nothing in it. Though, in its own way, that reveals everything. That the solid, calm mask is in place. Not the customer service smile. Not the young man who can smile his way past everything. But the other mask. The cool young man nothing ever fazes. The one nothing can touch and, therefore, nothing can hurt.]

Annoyed but let it be.

He decided not to do that. When I explained what he'd done that I saw as disrespectful -- after I'd warned him that if he continued, I'd slap him -- he decided to talk back. So, I did exactly as I threatened.

[Because he hates what this is. He hates what it says about him. And he hates that he still feels justified. The way he knows his father always felt when he did it. But he feels he did what he had to do.]

[He never let his gaze falter. He listened to Kyouya's explanation as always. It was rare that he had to take on the serious role. But he had to intervene. They were both his friends. However, Kyouya meant so much more to him. And it hurt Tamaki that Kyouya went that far to discipline Link.]

Kyouya, he's a little kid. He doesn't know better. He's not like us.

[Tamaki stood up, both arms at his side. The usual calm fading.]

I get that he was disrespectful, I get that he was defacing our property and I get that he was wrong in talking back. But how could you raise your hand on a little boy like Link?

..how could you do it when you know how painful it is to be at the receiving end!

I learned.

[His voice was pure ice.

Because he had to cut himself off. He had to be something less than human. He had to be what he'd tried so hard to make Haruhi think he was. That he was removed and callous and only concerned with himself. If he delved into this subject when he wasn't making it about himself.

When it didn't matter.]

I was younger than him the first time. No warning, no explanation. There never is.

Ask? "Figure it out."

[Sometimes the rules were spelled out for him. Usually, though, he was left to think what he'd done wrong.]

He stretched my patience to the limit, so I did something I knew he'd listen to.

DO YOU THINK THAT WAS RIGHT?

[His voice boomed. This was not right. He knows it wasn't. It was too painful. The first time he watched Kyouya get slapped, he cried for his friend. That sound echoed through his ears, and only sleep drowned it out.]

Kyouya, you know how wrong your father was! He had no right to hurt you that way!

Don't!

[Raised voice. No. No.

Kyouya closed his eyes briefly, took in a deep breath. Focus. Don't make it personal. Don't let it be personal. Even though it's personal. It's extremely personal.

He opened his eyes, kept his gaze on the wall.]

He raised four respectful, intelligent, dedicated children. While I may not always like my father's methods, they work.

I learned.

I tried to play nice, Tamaki. He didn't listen. So, I used a more effective method.

[He wasn't his father.

But he was.

At least right now. At least in this moment. That was exactly what Tamaki thought of him. He was an Otori. Nothing else mattered.]

[Tamaki wasn't the sort of person to ease on an argument when he knew he was right. Even when Haruhi was so sure she was right that time, and although it hurt him to have Haruhi ignore him, Tamaki never stopped.]

He could have done the same thing without resorting to such methods!

Did you forget how painful it was the first time his large hands hit your cheeks? Have you forgotten how much it hurts to have the man you respect hurt you?

If you want me to apologize? To him or to you? You're not going to get it.

[Now... Now he knew he was treading on thin ice. Every word was barbed, every sound was sharp. His muscles were too tense. He needed some way to lash out. At Tamaki, at himself, at anything.

But there was nothing he could do. Not standing in front of Tamaki.

So it was shoved down. Pressed further into him until he felt like he was choking on it. On all the anger he couldn't express, on everything he'd spent years not saying.

Because Tamaki didn't deserve that. He was trying to help.]

A situation arose, I handled it. You don't like how I handled it, fine. It won't happen again.

[Because he didn't need that look from Tamaki.

It was worlds away, but it reminded him too much of his father's looks. Not by expression but by result. It meant he was a disappointment. It meant he'd screwed up. It meant his value was damaged. It meant he wasn't capable. And he couldn't deal with that. Not here, not now. Not on top of everything else.

Whatever they wanted him to be? Whatever Tamaki wanted him to be? He'd be. Except apologetic. He wouldn't grovel.]

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