come_sailaway | JUNE EVENT: CAMP

JUNE EVENT: CAMP

early on June 10th, Friday's morning announcements end with a request for everyone going on the latest excursion to meet her in the atrium. she seems in noticeably better spirits than she had been last time, and she leads them cheerfully to the tender. once they are all aboard, and the door is securely shut, the interior fills with gas, and, perhaps, their last thought before they slip into unconsciousness is "oh shit, not again."

passengers wake up on a rickety old school bus, driving down a dirt road surrounded by woods. what is it that they notice first? that, no matter what they were wearing before, they are now wearing a camp t-shirt and legitimately horrifyingly short shorts? the overstuffed backpack between their knees? the words "take one down and pass it around" dying on their lips? the fact that Friday is absolutely driving the bus?

or, maybe the fact that it's already slowing down, pulling up in front of a massive wooden sign, saying:

CAMP AION

when they get out of the bus, Friday is the one to divide them up into their cabin groups, and she is the one to give the counselors their very official-looking clipboards and whistles. she explains that they are in charge, and that she will be back to pick them up in a week, and... very little else. she responds to nothing outside of whatever is on her unseen little script, and she gets back on the bus shortly after, leaving them there.

welcome to camp. let's make some summer memories!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't know... I just..." He lets go of Ed to absently adjust those maroon lapels again, straightens the bow tie just so he can focus on that instead of Ed's face. "You're very cool and everyone knows that - and I'm- well- I guess I don't want to be the cause of anyone thinking any less of you."

Because he can't pretend to be actually just as cool and expect them to believe it. Everyone there knows him.

Ah. Ed is indeed very cool by necessity to survive. And therefore very protective of his reputation. And he's not going to let the Blackbeard name and brand get turned to fluff for some weird little man in colorful clothes. On the other hand, the people here have seen Ed share the title of captain, watched him draw a flag and put beads in his beard, and flirt pretty blatantly through a dueling match. So if anyone's damaged Ed's reputation at this point, it's not exactly been Stede.

Honestly, Ed should have said no, because yeah, this is stupid and he'll look dumb and silly if anyone even bothers to notice they're here. But Stede wants him to go to the dance. Ed wants to go with Stede. The shit he indulges in because of this ridiculous man...

"Stede, mate, you're the ballsy bastard who lured Blackbeard to the woods in the dead of the fucking morning," alright, so Lucius did the luring, but on Stede's orders, "and dared to ask him to a dance." And he agreed.

He smiles fondly. He can't help it. Yes even in this suit instead of the black leather he looks dangerous. Even in the ridiculous clothing they had been forced into, he looked dangerous. There is something intimidating about Ed, an aura, perhaps, as Diana would say--

And yet--

He takes in a breath through his nose and lets it out. Then smirks and curls a hand through Ed's beard.

"I could lure Blackbeard anywhere." And he tugs him in, to press a gentle kiss as he's wanted to do all evening. It's easier here at the door when they have to go in and have decided to go in and one kiss won't be too distracting.

He pulls back only enough to rest their foreheads together.

"But Ed is the one I asked to the dance." And he will just have to make them both look good. He will have to be the one to keep up. But there's no need to let Ed in on that so instead he gives that beard another little tug.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Mr. Teach? It could change your life."

Damn right--Ed should probably be a bit more concerned about the fact that Stede has an odd sway over him and could easily lure him to his ruin if so desired. Now, though, the kiss is soft and sweet--and doesn't last too long because they both understand the risks of continuing.

But Ed is the one I asked to the dance. He likes being Ed, not Blackbeard, for Stede--the friend the Gentleman Pirate can ask to a dance, the man he can share the title of captain with, the guy he can act a little sweet on and kiss. No one kisses Blackbeard like that. With Ed, Stede can be physically close without the violence that characterizes the reign of Blackbeard...

Ed's starting to get used to this. That's probably going to bite him in the ass someday.

"Not Mr. Teach--" he says, and it's less harsh than he told Friday once upon a time, but there's something low and warning, a soft growl that resonates with their faces pressed so close. "Just Ed."

Stede's already altered the course of Ed's life, so it's not sure what more a dance could do. Time to find out.

The low warning rumble is dangerous itself in a completely different way and goes right down in ways he'll dwell on later.

"Ed, then," He takes Ed's arm again, tucking it through his and holding the man close to his side. "My Ed..."

He likes the way that sounds... almost too much. His face feels suffused with heat but maybe Ed won't notice as they enter into the doors and the bizarre music and everyone dancing and having a good time or a bad time and everything in between. Maybe it looks odd or silly but--

They are his crew and if not his crew, people who don't matter as much and he is the Gentleman Pirate for whom parties and other social engagements are as easy as a turtle falling off the log.

He's still half waiting for someone to introduce them, but it's also nice just to be with Ed together.

It's right in the middle of a song, though it seems to be winding down and... as soon as it's over, Stede's going to have to pluck up the nerve to ask Ed to dance.

Ed's not really ever been anyone's. He's commanded and all-but-owned the men of his crew--including and especially Izzy--but he's never been someone's Ed. Maybe he was once his mother's Ed, and his father's, but that's a time he'd like to forget. Being Stede's Ed though... The idea intrigues him, delights him, even if he has somewhat mixed feelings--being a possessive man himself. Does it go both ways?

Maybe it's a little of possessiveness, pride in having befriended this fascinatingly odd (but very pretty) man, or maybe he's still riding some of the high of the kiss, but Ed walks into the party with the swagger and confidence of a celebrity with a great trophy on his arm.

This one's mine.

He waves a bit at whoever they encounter who greets them, says his hellos. In the crowded sidelines, he shifts his arm out of Stede's to take his hand instead--much easier to shift and wind around people as he steers them through the crowd to an empty spot they can hang out. Leaning against the wall beside Stede, it kind of makes him think of the last party they attended, Jinx's shindig, though he doesn't think this time he plans to encourage Stede to dance with Watson.

It's Stede in the end who can't keep up. He's swept up by Ed, devastated in the strangest way. For some reason Ed's whole posture changes. For some reason right away he's the star of the moment. It's different than the soiree where he was hesitant at first, and then completely obnoxious because he'd wanted to much to be the center of their world.

Here he just was. Completely in his element. As fluid as water. He is surprised when his hand is taken and has no choice but to hold it back, heart in his ears as he follows Ed through the crowd and music, feeling it pulse around him- feeling as if-- as if he belonged. As if they belonged. As if they were one person.

Too soon they are on the other side and he's against the wall with Ed, his head clearing slightly, but he doesn't let go of his hand and he feels both exuberantly light and something heavy on him as well- like plush velvet, like the best thick cream sliding right down his throat. He looks up Ed, like a moth drawn to the light in his eyes and murmurs, half under his breath:

"God, I'm fortunate." Not because he deserved it. Certainly not because he'd earned it. But it was his and spoiled or not, he was never going to let Ed go.

This is a comfortable role--or at least a familiar one. Not his first rodeo; he already knows how these parties work now, and he'll see these people again tomorrow and the next day, etc, so there's no overwhelming desire to seize the moment and steal the limelight (and he saw how that went, how Stede withdrew, how fickle the fucking crowd was. He's not here to be seen as a novelty that they'll bore of in an hour).

These people...well, they aren't new. He'll gladly drink in attention or praise, and show off, but that's not something he thinks this crowd will give. There's no one here who is any more impressed with him today than they were yesterday. It's about attitude--it's about making an entrance but not making a spectacle of oneself. Walking in and acting like you are the coolest, most badass thing here without demanding the attention. Knowing you are the coolest, most badass thing here. Easy, when you have a smoking-hot blond on your arm.

Ed smiles, and he's a little worried the smile may come out a bit dopey with Stede looking at him like that.

"'Course you are: you're a gentleman."

"That would explain it." He smiles back, though it digs a little bit. It's true though. If he wasn't- and couldn't afford the ship and have a library and a lifestyle that impressed Ed, well, they wouldn't be here would they? But he does and did so what is there to feel uncomfortable about? He should be grateful. And he is.

So it doesn't matter and he just takes in Ed's little smile and resists the urge to touch his face or pull him down for another kiss. A kiss would be nice right now though. Or anything distracting.

"Oh, look, there's a new song..." It seems like a bit of a slow one. "I'm still not sure how they fit all that music in one box, not even a single musician to be found. It's amazing what they can do these days."

"Yeah. Don't even have discs this time." Effie had attempted to explain at the first party, but Ed's not sure it really sank in. Somehow the discs had the songs, but they don't have anyone changing out the discs this time. How the hell does it work?

Oh look, is that observation a hint, Captain Bonnet?

He raises their joined hands and turns Stede's palm to where Ed can study it. On the open hand, Ed draws his mark, an X, with his finger. It's probably the least permanent form of his mark he's ever left on anyone's skin, but Ed can almost feel an echo of the touch on his own hand.

"Looks like that's my mark on your dance card," he says, showing Stede the man's own empty palm and then gesturing to the dance floor.

"Discs...?" As soon as the question leaves his tongue, it's all but forgotten as Ed lifts their hands and stares at his palm. A part of him wonders if Ed is going to kiss it and he wonders what that will feel like and how he will keep his knees from wobbling.

Ed's finger tracing an X on his hand is somehow better and worse, and he can feel the faint traces of heat left behind as if burned there. He almost wants to kiss the spot to preserve it but then Ed tells him why it's there ...

And the feeling is back, but stronger, and he's full on blushing everywhere he's sure, completely suffused with a warm heat that has nothing to do with desire. Or at least not the desires of the purely physical.

His palm is not the only place Ed has left his mark.

But now he actually has to say something and not just stand here gaping like an idiot.

"Why, Ed...it's a pleasure..." Which is not the cleverest thing to say but all his wit has fled right out the window and he hesitates. Is he leading? Is Ed? If he makes the first move is that going to upset things? Or will Ed?

"Lead the way..." Which still doesn't answer the ultimate question of who is leading but he's hoping Ed has some idea.

That's clever enough for Ed. He gives Stede a wink and takes him by the hand to lead him out onto the dance floor and then... the words actually sink in. Shit. This isn't just a jig or some free-for-all. There are rules, and leading, and if he's perfectly honest, he had been thinking less with his brain than maybe other parts--and more along the lines of being cool and a bit suave and getting Stede onto the dance floor with him. Dancing itself was supposed to be the easy part.

Dancing is not the easy part.

When they arrive at an empty place on the dance floor, Ed has a split second to decide how to save face and not stand there like a loon waiting for Stede to show him where to put his hands. Embarrassed and without a good idea, he steps inward and mutters quickly in Stede's ear, "Now what?"

Ed feels like such a fool. Please don't laugh.

Well he can't help but get a little shiver with that little whisper can he? But it does make him smile just a little, a breath of a laugh but a fond one. He wants to put his arms around Ed's neck and pull him in to another kind of dance entirely.

Instead he takes Ed's free hand and fits it around his waist- feeling a sense of deja vu, familiarity- They had done this before, he remembers now, hazily. At that other place. That other dance. He puts his own hand on Ed's shoulder and then leans in himself to murmur at Ed's ear to be heard above the music.

"Remember? It's teamwork. All we really have to do is move." Other dances are a bit more complex than that and even this one can be- although this is not really a song to waltz to, who cares? They make their own rules.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

JUNE EVENT: CAMP

CAMP AION

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject