come_sailaway | He Gods to Swear

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He Gods to Swear

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.

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[even after all that his first instinct is to tell him to shove off. Regardless of how bad he feels it'll be a cold day in hell before he listens to Izzy Hands and so far it's rarely gotten below seventy degrees. Sometimes a little chilly 65 at night but no lower than that.

Still, he owes the man to at least have a chat]

I'd rather stand, thank you.

[bitch]

[Oh haven't you heard there's a cold front blowing in. Beast from the East, Storm Israel.]

You just fucking attacked me in my own fucking room for what. Because you want to be like me? I listen to orders, NOW SIT! DOWN!

What you think you're going to shout at me and I am just going to listen?

Wanting to be like you doesn't mean I want to be you and you wouldn't listen to me either if I told you to sit. You'd tell me to fuck off.

I wouldn't even listen to Ed tell me to sit. [he's not sure what he would do if Ed was angry with him- but then Ed never really was.]

I can still hear you from where I'm standing. But here. [he slips into the room and shuts the door behind him with a foot] Better?

[Yeah sorry not sorry he just isn't in the fucking mood. Izzy doesn't get physical for his own pleasure but he will if it will help him make a point. They've already thrown hands so he doesn't have reservations in crossing the (now closed) space to physically haul Stede somewhere to sit down.

There is an easier option, though, which is to cow Stede against the door, and so he swoops down to grab all the stupid little notes and slaps them against the other man's chest. Holding them there. Firmly.]

You're a fucking disgrace, Stede Bonnet. All your fussy little notes, and caterwauling, and flapping all over the place. And you're fucking wankered.

So let's do this, huh. Let's fuckin do this. Tell me, what has you so far up my ass, that you're perching by my door like some pining little school girl. Should I pull your pigtails? Would you like that? Are you jealous? Do you want my attention? Because let me tell you something and let me make myself very fucking clear, I have gone out of my way to leave you alone. I have done everything in my power to fulfill my duties yet you have found every excuse to interject yourself into my life on this stupid fucking prison and you are NOT my fucking daddy.

[Many of his words accented with an additional hard shove, that last bit especially. They're pinned up against the door now. Very close together. Izzy looks on the cusp of either a feral rage or a total break down.]

So what do you fucking want from me!?

[the man is having a little bit of a meltdown it seems and Stede can't blame him. He winces a bit at the words flung back in his face, especially the daddy part, and the notes slapped to his chest that he holds onto absently, looking away and at the floor.

He feels sorry for him, he really does, but has enough believe in Izzy's fortitude to at least be fairly confident he's not broken, just a little nearing the end of his rope. But he's right about so many things, especially Stede being a disgrace. He and Clarke would get along, he thinks. She'd have gone along with them smashing his face so Ed could assume his identity.]

Nothing. [which is true.] I was just...using you to try and find my own self worth, and I shouldn't have. I apologize for it. [and he means it]

And I'm definitely not...anything to you. I know that. [other than an irritation maybe. But he couldn't even be a father to his own children - not that he'd meant it quite in that way, but the point still stood]

But uh...thanks...for looking after Darcy. She's a good girl and could use someone who knows what they're doing. Ed likes her too.

In fact you'll er....probably get along with most of the crew. [but he should probably just stop talking and quit while he's dubiously ahead]

[Izzy isn't convinced at any of that, he doesn't 'get along' with most of the people Stede has employed. If this crew is anything like his last than it will not be so, but if they're good listeners and do what they're told? Then yeah. Maybe.

He stays pressed in, forearm barred across Stede's broad chest. He is fucking livid, but the more Stede talks and just gives up what his issue is, the more mental gymnastics Izzy is forced to do until he can only arrive at one conclusion.]

This is about Darcy.

[It is not a question. Izzy releases the pin and takes a step back.

Stede's been measuring his self worth against him. Of all people. And- okay but you know what? Good. He should! Izzy is an extremely capable professional career pirate, he should be a role model. Fucking finally, a little recognition of his value, fuck's sake.

Unfortunately for the fight, it knocks a bit of the wind from his sails. Not that Stede stood much of a chance. Izzy's just seen a metal chair leaning not three feet away and while he has no idea where it's come from, he would have absolutely utilized it as a weapon.

Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and gives Stede a proper once over.]

You're jealous. You know I'm training Darcy, then, and you take issue with that.

[a brush of a laugh. Now that the adrenaline is fading from his system the warmth of the booze is creeping back in. It's good. He welcomes it. It makes things so much easier. Maybe he couldn't even say this while sober. Hell, he could barely say it while drunk]

No... [he looks up...well down at Izzy. It's difficult to look the man directly in the eyes if he just looks straight forward. He wears his age on his face but in a good way, similar to Ed. The lines of a long hard life, he thinks]

I'm glad you are. You're good at it. A good fighter and a good teacher. And when times get hard, you're going to be one of the ones to pull us all through. [because if anything else, Izzy Hands seemed like a man with a strong mind and a strong will]

So yeah, teach her. Teach others. Bring them together. They'll respect you without question, even if they don't know who you work for. [and that will only add to it really] I'm glad you're here.

[a beat]

For everyone else anyway.

Uh-huh.

[He is not convinced. Izzy considers the first times he met Stede, how they had postured and how he had cut his own name through the other man's shirt. How he had played to his own pride and mercy and was ultimately bested, leaving with a consolation prize at best. The utter disbelief of the arrogant sass he had received in Jackie's shit hole pub, all of that. And now, Stede standing not four feet away, drunk and wild and unhinged saying that he's grateful or glad or whatever the fuck he is trying to get at.

These things don't add up. The figures are there but the sums are wrong, and Izzy doesn't like it when the math is wrong.

So what is the other contributing factor? This ship? Their environment? The fact they aren't still vying for Ed and the fate of The Revenge? That certainly has a part to play in Izzy's existence, no plan to action, no future to find except getting out and bringing Edward with him.]

This crew you've assembled, what's their purpose? Do you intend to lead a mutiny?

Why is mutiny the first thing anyone ever thinks of? It's surprising anyone gets anything done with mutiny this, mutiny that, let's see how many times we can get killed.

[he throws his hands in the air]

I mean there's got to be other ways to do this, right? It's not just finding the captain and pitching him overboard or whatever it is you do with captains you mutiny against. Don't answer that.

[he doesn't want to know]

No. No mutiny. The learning how to fight is because of anything else that might happen. Or...anything we might have to do to each other or just camaraderie. It's important.

Anyway, why do I have to have a reason to have a crew. A man can have a crew if he wants, can't he? No law against that, is there? [he's not going to say it was for Ed because that was the first idea but maybe it really was for him- and anyway that was an idea that had sort of blown up in his face and he's not telling Izzy Hands any of that because he's already told him enough]

But thank you for your participation.

[Izzy steeples his fingers and presses them to his mouth as he listens, concern intensifying with every word.

Then, finally,]

You do understand the basic framework of what pirates actually do, yeah.

[He gives Izzy Hands a look. This is a line that's been frustrating him for a while now, even if not quite the same words. And while he knows there's standards he's not living up to, there's still one thing that he knows for sure]

A pirate can do whatever the fuck he wants.

[he tosses his hair bangs from his face]

If he couldn't, what is the point of being a pirate? What is the point of breaking free from society and living out on the open seas if you're just going to fit the narrow definition of what everyone else thinks they should do?

[Stede isn’t…technically wrong which is frustrating but that is besides his point.]

Right.. yeah, but you know what we do, the raiding and conquering n’that. Captain Bonnet we are being held prisoner aboard this..farce of a ship, made to slaughter each other for the amusement of a captain who fancies himself god. What else is there to do but mutiny?

[being called Captain Bonnet by Izzy Hands is probably one of the most wonderful things that's happened to him in his life, and he will process that later when he's sober, but he's pretty sure he just dreamt it just now or slipped into Ossie's alternate reality]

Even so, mutiny is the wrong word. A mutiny is for people that chose to be where they are and then changed their minds. [you'd think good pay and benefits would be enough]

This is more of an uprising.

But it's not just-- It can't just be-- staying apart so we don't upset each other when we have to kill each other. It's not just holding that anger and desperation in all the time. That's not going to work. It's a long haul-- [he's working this out himself as he speaks, booze addled so it's a bit difficult] Ed and I-- we've been here for three months and nothing really has changed but...

I feel like... what is it...? Subverting expectations? Keeping them on their toes? [no, he doesn't know. It's there but it's slipping away like trying to catch a feather in the wind] Anyway it's not just fight, fight, fight; die, die, die all the time.

[Don't get used to it. Captain was a slip and he heard it the second he said it. In an ideal world it would have forced Stede to listen to him but that doesn't seem to be working and this is beginning to feel like a lost cause.

Which is a shame because Izzy is the key to knowledge, order, and precision. Not the creative star searching bit, that is all for Edward, but running a ship? A crew? A successful mission? The man is downright militant.]

Yeah, it is. That's what being a pirate is. It is fighting and trying not to die so you can fight again another day. And maybe, maybe, when you've put twenty five fathoms between you and the last stupid fucker you've robbed, then maybe you can take a week off on an island somewhere.

What I really don't understand is why you'n everyone else except Lucius fucking Spriggs are treating this like a fucking vacation. Blackbeard refuses to make a plan besides Wait and See, which I do blame on you in it's entirety, and it isn't good enough.

[he wants to say it doesn't have to be that way, but what does he know? He sighs and leans back against the door. The thought of it wears him out and they haven't done anything yet]

It is a bit of a grind isn't it. I mean, people have been fighting to get out of here from before we even arrived and nothing. [And Izzy wasn't the biggest cock on the walk when it came to that, but maybe the one they needed? Though at the mention of Ed he scowls and gives Izzy a glare]

Oh leave the man alone and let him relax for once. He can afford to here and be barely does it anyway. He's already got a solid reputation here in the history books so he's got nothing to prove and he doesn't have to be Blackbeard all the time you know. Sometimes it's okay to just be Ed. There's nothing wrong with that.

[he'd suggest Izzy relax too but he doesn't think the man even knows the definition of the word. Instead he thunks his head back against the door and closes his eyes]

So what do you suggest? What's your grand strategy, Mr. Hands. I'm all ears.

[Not in the mood at all to get into it over Edward, Izzy elects to skip right over that big ugly barb and go straight for the rest. He is not a strategist, but he could make a plan. Why not. He's done it before and it fucking worked.

But you know what, fuck it. The second Stede brings up Ed that's it. All Izzy's careful exit strategy out of this interaction is thrown over the side because all he can see is red.

Izzy presses right back in and their faces are so close they could kiss. They do not, but he sneers something ugly and unhinged.]

It's Captain Hands now, actually.

[He shouldn't have said that, immediately he wishes he has not, but he is so blindly furious that he can't stop it from coming out.]

Oh- oh yes, that's right. I know so much more than you, Bonnet. All our fates. All of them. I do have a plan but telling you now, you'll fuck it up like everything else you've ever done. You pathetic, prancing, wankered piece of shit.

[It's only then that he releases Stede roughly and backs off again. It is for one, very simple reason. This is over. Get out. Now.]

Now get the FUCK out of my cabin, and when I need you I will come and find you when I am good and fucking ready.

[he snorts]

So I guess that makes Ed an admiral. Glad he got promoted. [he's not afraid of Izzy Hands. Even when they're close. Even with the man's hot breath in his face. What can he do? Kill him? Break him? He can't even kill him without Ed's say so

The words hurt. Of course they do. And they're right. Of course they are. He's pretty much fucked up everything but maybe he'll keep fucking up everything and the odds are that one day he'll get it right, because he can't afford not to. Not here.]

I don't care what you know. I don't care who you are. In fact I don't even think you have a plan, because you don't know this situation, do you? You don't know what's going on. You don't know what everyone's been through. You haven't watched them killing each other senselessly for fucking days.

[oh. that came out rather harsh. And he's rather close. Well it wasn't like there was much to go.

Still- there was one thing that was true, despite how pathetic he was or how much he fucked up or even Izzy was the King of England]

Anyway, I don't answer to you. I outrank you. [he tosses his hair out of his eyes] So when I need you or I just want to say hello, you can count on me stopping on by.

[and he turns and shows himself out, shutting the door behind him]

...why the fuck is it so dark in here?

[...and cramped and...is that a hangar]

Shit

Stede, get the fuck out of my closet.

Fine. But only because it's small and useless. [and it takes him a moment to grope for the door, and stagger to the other one, groping for the knob before opening it and checking that it is the corridor and not another closet that's somehow bigger on the inside]

Just like you. [and he steps out, closing the door behind him, only to get his coat and some buttons caught in the closed door. With a grunt he pulls it free after several tugs, leaving buttons to fly everywhere.

It's fine. This is fine. Everything is fine. He'd only made an ass of himself.

Again.

And now... now he needs a drink]

[Izzy watches Hurricane Stede untangle and wreck himself in one clunky move and waits until the door closes before exhaling and scrubbing his face with his hands.

Make that two who need a drink now.]

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He Gods to Swear

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