He Gods to Swear

[touchofcashmere]

Who: Cede Sonnet (Baptin) and ...all three of you... [OTA]
What: gin, rum, tequila, pina colada (one for each hand), vodka, whiskey....
When: June 30 year of our lord ...somethin' with a lotta 2s
Where: I dunno just...everyhere
Warnings: this man




I. At Hurikane

[Give him two pina coladas... or three. Or four. Because the ghosts won't and he's trying to pull the drink from the invisible hands]

I'm fine. I can handle it. I can handle anything! Don't tell me I can't liquor my handle!


II. At John's

[who is holding a bottle of tequila, sitting on the piano and intermittently throwing books at the screen? It's him. It's fine. He's fine. Everything's fine. Why do you ask?]


III. Chatterbox

[it is karaoke time and he is just in time for having a good time, reading the lyrics badly]

Tell me why ain't nothin' but a heartache
tell me why ain't nothing but a missed skate
tell me why I never wanna hear you say
I want it that day!

Come on! Sing with me!


IV. Scoops
I'll have one of everything please. [and then seeing someone come up, clings to the window] It's all mine. Go away. Shoo.


V. Elsewhere
[Stede is clinging to the railing, making his way along or otherwise rambling back and forth across the deck]

Wow! Choppy seas? Am I right? Of course I'm right. Must be a storm. [he chugs a bottle of rum]

If we die... I hope the captain is fucked. Fucked. Absolutely a hundered percent ten eggs deep.

Comments

[saltwaterlungs]

[ She was expecting Stede to cry. The mention of Clarke was unexpected and a little confusing, but she'll probably chase that up afterwards. For now, she has a Captain to console. A Captain who cares about her, somehow, in spite of every part of herself she dislikes. Who thinks she's sweet, like Darcy is a girl her actual age and not a weapon. Darcy forces herself not to gag at the stench of alcohol and returns the hug this time, a hand lightly on the back of his head. ]

I'm not going anywhere.

[touchofcashmere]

[he cries himself out and then stands there listlessly like a tired marionette. After a moment he sniffs and says] I think I want to sleep now. Can you take me to my closet?

[saltwaterlungs]

Of course.

[ Third time's the charm, she takes some of his weight onto her shoulder again and helps him back to his room. Well, his closet. Apparently his roommate is creepy. The next morning, there's a bottle of sports drink and some painkillers waiting for his inevitable hangover. ]