come_sailaway | [OPEN LOG/MINGLE] Teeth Lessons

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[OPEN LOG/MINGLE] Teeth Lessons

Fliers are hung in proper prominent spots on the ship by Thursday evening:

Johnny Summer spends most of Friday, Saturday and Sunday in Topy, with mannequins dressed in his suits from home, shoes and shine kits, his handkerchiefs made by Watson at a station to be folded into pocket squares. It's a casual sort of drop-in space, mostly him making himself available for talks of multiple kinds, using "gentleman lessons" as a nice wrapper to contain them.

But also, he absolutely will expound on the benefits of the Windsor knot for a necktie, show you how to do a bowtie, offer tips for shoe shining, and otherwise be your gay fashion friend.

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Daisy does not actually directly approach Johnny, when she drops into Topy; not immediately, anyway. She hangs back by the entrance and just sort of... watches? Waits? Maybe a bit of both. Crabb has definitely figured out which new face she is by now, she's caught her glaring daggers enough times to be sure of that, but she's not sure if Johnny has done the same.

Call it a test. Seeing whether he's been told or figured it out on his own, or if he hasn't yet, if he'll clock her now she's here. Lurking. Daisy studs in her ears too small to see from across the room and no daisy sweater, just Tommy Bahama chic.

Johnny glances up from the tie he's straightening on a mannequin and gives Daisy a calm, quiet look. No, he doesn't recognize her at a glance, so she gets a soft, welcoming smile and a head-tilt that indicates 'come on in', before he goes back to the straightening.

He does have those damned scissors in a sheathe on his belt, though.

One brow raises as he turns around. Well, that at least tells her Erin isn't going around telling people what she looks like, she supposes. Crabb just figured it out. Detectives.

It's when she pushes herself up from the wall by the door to approach, ever so curious how long it'll take him to realise if she can dodge giving her name for a while, that the stench of the scissors hits her.

It's only knowing what kind of world Johnny comes from that makes her look for the sheathe instead of wondering if it's coming off him and she just couldn't tell in Crabb's body. Even then, as she gets a taste of the real power in the damn things she actually recoils with a, "—what the fuck—?"

"Language."

His chiding response is polite and mild, as he gives her a second uncertain once-over. After all, these are gentleman lessons, coming in hot with the eff-bombs is wholly inappropriate to the setting.

Daisy stays right where she ended up after she recoiled back. "Oh buzz off. Think a little cursing's the least of your troubles. You're carrying an artefact around on you like they're safety scissors. You realise that, right?"

That certainly puts that fight into perspective. He was already scrappier than she expected, sure, but with those things in his hand... as much as there are items around the boat brought from other worlds that have the scent of some Fear or another, just on account of being items with weird properties, the stench on those things is a lot.

"I'm quite aware of what I have, and how it acts. I've been lectured about turning into a 'bearer of the bad thing' before. But given the habit of this ship to turn into a disaster zone at the gentlest provocation, I'd rather be well armed than not."

He takes a couple measured steps forward.

"Have we met, miss?"

"Nevermind you being their bearer. Those things should be thrown into the sun."

Of course here on the ship there's no Fears, not so tangibly as she's used to. She knows that. Knows no Ritual will ever happen on this boat let alone do anything. But those things should not be in his hands and yet she is now equally aware of the fact that trying to take them from him would be a bad call.

She could lie. Her reaction isn't enough, necessarily, to give her away. Say she's Alice. But as much as she alluded to herself having another name with Erin, she still doesn't want that information out until its forced out, for no real reason except that it's hers.

And now they're stood closer, he can probably see the earrings anyway. "Take a guess, posh boy."

Only the cleverest of rude names from this one's mouth.

"Ah. Ironically, you're the reason these are now daily carry for me. Though I disagree with Erin's assessment that I killed you and she was just finishing the job, for whatever that's worth."

Johnny crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you here to quarrel, Miss Daisy?"

Daisy crosses her own arms, huffily, then immediately uncrosses them so she's not mirroring him. It is unreasonably annoying that he has two inches on her now.

"You can drop the miss. Just Daisy. And— no. Not really. I was wondering if you'd figured me out or how fast you would. But. Well."

Her gaze flicks to the scissors for a second. They surprised her, alright.

"Daisy. Right. You're no longer wearing the body of my dearest friend, so you and I don't need to have anything to do with one another at this point. Unless there's anything you want to re-litigate, but I think the events of October are best left in October. You're here now. You get to decide what that means to you."

He almost sounds dismissive of her, on some level.

On one hand, she shouldn't care at all what this guy, what anyone here, thinks of her. That's what she keeps telling herself. This is just another cruise she has to suffer through until the ship chews her up or someone pulls a Jenny 2.0 and no one, nothing, matters.

On the other. The dismissiveness really gets under her skin anyway.

"God you lot and that woman... she's not—" anything special, but Daisy bites her tongue rather than finish that sentiment. Tastes iron. Problems with sharp teeth. "You were playing tactical. When you figured me out. Weren't you? Smart move. Smarter than Erin really believing what she was saying."

"Here's what I believe: cooperation will be necessary to whatever comes next. Being civil to one another will benefit us all in the long run. There is a solution that does not rely on us being ruthless to one another."

He smiles, moving back behind the bar to grab a bottle of wine and a corkscrew.

"And you aren't ready to participate in any of that. Erin can try to convince you that better exists. I'm not going to repeatedly bang my head against the brick wall of your commitment to being part of the pack of bastards. That's not a useful place to put my time or energy. I made an effort with Jenny and that led to one of the least productive conversations I've ever had. Why should I bother with you?"

Daisy actually snarls a little at the mention of Jenny, lips curling back to show the wolf-like teeth beneath. But she doesn't advance on him. The reaction is isolated entirely from Johnny himself.

"That bitch— she screwed us all over, you know. Sure, we were a pack of bastards. Try living through our cruise, not your walk in the park, and see if you come out any different. But we went years without anyone pulling that shit. Don't you compare me to her after she slit my partner's throat. Just. Don't."

"Alright, then take this fucking opportunity you've been given and do better than her."

That's a dare, Daisy, not a threat.

"Haven't killed any of you since I got back, have I! Not even her, even though I'd have every damn right!"

That might be best footnoted with a 'yet', but it's true. She hasn't even tried to hunt Jenny so far. Or hurt Chase.

"You all say this shit like it's easy. You think I can just say 'alright, sure' and the sense of an ambush around every corner goes away? You think I can just decide to trust people like you can't bite me if I let my guard down? You. Didn't. Live. Like we did. I can— I have—"

The frustrated noise she cuts herself off with is more of a growl, too.

"My existence on this ship is not my first time living under siege. I know more about what it means to never let your guard down than you realize."

He takes a deep breath, raking a hand over his hair, because he's not going to meet her on her level of bitterness. He's in this space for gentleman lessons and he's going to act like it.

Daisy actually tries, for a moment, to recall if any of the memories she dug into to act like Crabb give her any context for what he's saying... but the fact is she didn't dig all that deep. Nothing comes to mind.

So she just huffs. Bristles. And yet yells less. "Fine. Maybe you do. I don't know your life. But the boat wasn't my first time either, alright? Even here I can't— I can't shake the thing that owns me. Owns my damn— soul. I can't. I can't become prey. Not again."

"Then don't become prey. Learn to be part of our pack, if you'll allow me to extend the metaphor. Or don't." He shrugs expressively. "You're a part of our voyage now, but what you make of that is going to be your decision."

Become part of the pack. She groans. "You and Erin really are friends aren't you? Same metaphors and everything."

She flicks her tongue over her own teeth and, feeling far too exposed now just stood in the open space, finally drags herself onto a stool a little ways away from him. Keeping an eye on him now seems to override the need to have her eye on an exit, though she's kept her path to it as clear as possible.

"I'm not—" A huff of air. "If I wanted to kill you all, turn on you again, I'd've torn Erin's throat out when she offered it. I had— I got memories. New memories. And... look at me." She plucks at her own shirt, even picked from the Tommy's it's too big for her. "I got like this for a reason. But I can't just roll over and trust you all either."

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[OPEN LOG/MINGLE] Teeth Lessons

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