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[theotherright]

Cabin 127. No calls, we text like men on our disney cruise phones.

If you send Arthur a message it will be read out loud in one of a selection of friendly automated voices!

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Post-Trial, text

[iwearnomask]

[It's a risk to text Arthur given how his phone works, but this is important, and not something he wanted to talk about in earshot of others.]

Arthur, I'd like to talk about what we saw in the trial. What is a good time and place for you?

[theotherright]

The drunken sailor is typically quiet

[ Arthur would be delighted to know that his phone is finally, finally starting to consistently understand what the fuck he's saying for the sake of speech-to-text. ]

There are no pressing demands on my time today are you available in an hour

[iwearnomask]

Yes, I am. I'll meet you there.

[And sure enough, John is at the Drunken Sailor, though he hasn't grabbed a seat yet. He's just waiting until he sees Arthur, at which point he calls out to him.]

Arthur, over here.

[theotherright]

[ Arthur arrives promptly. This is because he was worried about losing track of time and coming late, overcorrected by quite a bit, and has been wandering up and down the promenade from then until now.

There's a book in his hand: a hardback bound in blue cloth. It's this hand that he lifts to acknowledge John as he starts towards his voice. ]

John. How are you, ah- holding up? After all that, I mean?

[ Oh, they're inquiring about each other's well-being after mass murder events in person now. Clearly someone's social link upgraded. ]

[iwearnomask]

[It's a 'stretch of time between boxing day and new years' miracle!]

Well, I wasn't killed on the way back to the ship and nothing else has rampaged since, so I'm doing fine, I suppose.

[That was... That was an attempt at a joke. Look, he's not a comedian, not in that sense of the word.]

And... you? How are you and... Crichton?

[Asking after the other person is normal, and asking about their partner too shows that you aren't so fragile as to be irritated by their presence in your friend's life. And that you're concerned about them too, maybe.]

[theotherright]

The narration keeps coming up against a wall when trying to write in brackets, so Arthur slips into something a little more prose.

Maybe the joke wasn't as punchy as it could have been, but it's a rare and welcome surprise coming from John, and it makes Arthur smile for a moment. Honestly it's just... nice to talk to him without life-or-death stakes attached (for now), as much as Arthur avoided it, and as awkward as they're being about it.

"Well. He was somewhat miffed to have not been let in on the fact that we have magical powers," and if you guessed that his delivery is dry, you were goddamn right, "but I think I'm forgiven."

He doesn't mention Crichton's theory that John is jealous of them, mostly because it would be entirely the wrong thing to say, but partly because he's trying not to think about it.

The rolling tip of his cane bumps over something that muffles it, something he guesses is fabric; Arthur stops walking forwards and starts trying to guess whether that was a trailing tablecloth or John. (It would be less embarrassing if it was a tablecloth. It was John.)