come_sailaway | AUGUST EVENT: DRAGSTRIP RIOT

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AUGUST EVENT: DRAGSTRIP RIOT

[it begins with a PA announcement on the morning of the 12th, Friday’s voice coming through clear and cheerful.]

Any passengers that wish to debark to our latest port of call can exit the ship through the metal detectors on deck zero! Please be advised that all alcohol will be confiscated prior to your exit!

[and whoever heads down to the lowest deck will find that what she said was true: there is a metal detector set up there, with Friday manning it. after placing all metal objects (including weapons, and all your weapons) onto the tray, she gestures for the passenger to step through the metal detector.

they exit in an entirely different location. suffering from a splitting headache, and wearing an entirely different outfit than they had put on this morning, but unscathed. they even got their weapons back!

the interior of the diner is essentially your average jonathan rockets establishment. the narrow lane between booths and counter is manned by an entirely mute Friday clone, who cheerily takes orders and serves up food (cooked??? somewhere???) with an almost unnatural talent for roller blading. there is a jukebox in the corner that can be fed with quarters passengers will inexplicably find on their person. the available songs range from the 50s to the 80s, with a particularly wide selection of songs from the platters.

outside, the diner is a great chrome boxcar, circled by a small parking lot. a large neon sign proclaims it to be GIL’S; it buzzes and flickers on and off often. passengers who have regained vehicles will find these vehicles parked outside. there are also a handful of midcentury American cars; none of them seem to require keys, and the gas tank seems set at full.

past the parking lot is a seemingly endless expanse of desert sand and scrubland, bisecting by the empty highway that the diner abuts. a few miles down this highway, the road forks into a smaller one, which winds its way up a steep, ragged mountain until plateauing into another parking lot, with only a small, old wooden fence between the cars and the edge of the cliff.

should they wish to return to the ship, passengers can leave at any time the same way they entered: walking through a doorway that now claims to be a mop closet. passing through will leave them on deck zero, again with a splitting headache. it’s probably fine.]

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Izzy gestures for Darcy to start the car, which growls to life under a powerful engine. It sounds like a wild animal to him, which is both mildly off putting and extremely exciting.

We waits before they pull off before speaking. Back to business for the both of them, it seems.

“So I met the captain.”

Which she knows, but he is vaguely willing to speak about.

“He didn’t even try to stab me. Bit of a let down if I’m honest.”

"I did say I thought you'd be fine," Darcy notes, "the motherfucker hates getting his own hands dirty. He probably would've been more likely to try and get you and Stede to stab each other."

And they both know who would've won that exchange.

"How'd it go? What did he want?"

Indeed so. Stede doesn't seem able to hold a sword for more than a few exchanges before dropping it. Tidecutter, or whatever it is Bonnet had called it, was a well meant but useless gift. Even with Izzy's training the fight would have been over almost immediately.

"It was pretty boring to be honest. He's got his eye on our crew, can't really blame him. Tried making a bargain with me, but not Bonnet. Not really sure what that was about."

Feels good though, not going to lie about that.

There isn't much Izzy can really tell Darcy, the meat of the revelations being strictly need to know.

"Best I can tell it just means we need to stick together, more now than ever. Keep each other safe. this is between you and I but we'll be reissuing new contracts soon with a clause that states nonviolence against other crewmen. I need to know that push comes to shove, we're in it together."

Darcy would almost certainly condense to a singularity of infinitely dense matter if she were ever to find out that Izzy knew what she'd named her sword. Or that she'd named her sword in general. The embarrassment would kill her.

"Probably makes sense. Stede would be harder to turn against the crew. What did he offer you?"

She makes a disgusted noise at the new clause of the contracts, however, and grips the steering wheel a little tighter.

"If this is because of the Jinx thing, I'm going to be so fucking pissed. I've been keeping my fucking distance, we haven't come to blows since before the first meeting- and it's not like she's been making it fucking easy for me, ehn? Fucking 'nonviolence clause'."

Bold of you to assume he hasn't named his own.

Izzy considers answering Darcy's first question, but the follow up is far more interesting, and so he leaves threat of revelation to focus on an interpersonal drama he was not aware of. Darcy and Jinx clash.. that.. wow yeah that does not surprise him at all, actually. He and Jinx clash but Izzy has the weight of authority and experience to pin the girl's scatter-shot chaos into focus. Darcy isn't in a place of superiority.

"Drives you mental, does she?"

He feels like he already knows the answer, but he's interested and, well, nosy.

What follows is a ten minute summary of nearly every fight and conflict she and Jinx have had. With hand gestures that briefly takes both hands off the wheel. And voices. Mocking voices. Every blow in the conflict is a fresh and open wound that very clearly still stings her.

"-and she said she was going to make me her fucking plaything- who the fuck even says that? I have no fucking idea what's wrong with her but I swear to God if she keeps fucking with me, we're going to find out if it can be fixed by breaking her fucking nose."

Darcy huffs like a locomotive venting steam.

"So, yes, we don't get along. Sorry. Everyone else on the crew seems so fucking happy to just get along with everyone, but I can't. I fucking can't with her. Her breathing makes me mad at this point."

It's all completely valid, tbh. Every time Izzy hears Stede breathe he has to fight the urge to pull the man's lungs out through his stupid fucking nostrils.

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

Maybe he shouldn't be quite so open about his own interpersonal drama, but it's reflex. He just hates that fuckin' guy so much, suffering injustice after injustice. Working together? Teaching Stede to fight? Suffering his relationship with Edward. Acting his second, preparing to die for him!? Fucking insanity.

If it weren't in direct conflict of the order Izzy is about to issue crew wide, he would very much encourage Darcy to go ahead of break Jinx's nose.

Well.. there's still time.. the contracts haven't been changed yet so-

-no. No, no behave. Be a leader, Izzy. Show restraint.

"You won't be her plaything." t's gross to even say the word. He hates that so, so much wow.

"She's half insane but she doesn't hold any power over you."

A beat.

"N'violence is different than self defense. The Captain grows stronger with every scrap of malcontent we give him, but I won't ask you to suffer abuse of power for that goal. There is a line."

"Oh I know I won't be," there's a raw tone to her words, like she wants to be screaming even as she deliberately lowers her voice "I'm not going to fucking let her."

Hence half the conflicts. Trying to establish herself as someone who shouldn't be fucked with, like the bright colours of a poisonous dart frog. Negligible to say whether or not it was working, but the attempt was being made.

But Izzy's reassurance lances some of that anger from her. For the first time in a while, since Avery, she has an adult who knows that she has to do what she's got to do. Who's on her side and not the vague nebulous side of 'doing the right thing' that always seems to lean to favour the other party.
Izzy has her back.

"Thank you," she says, sounding audibly calmer, "I appreciate it. I knew you'd get it."

Because he really, really isn't subtle about his hatred toward Stede.
The thought crosses her mind that she ought to be on Izzy's side about that feud too, to pay back the favour. Something to think about more later.

Maybe some day he'll return the information in a ten minute rant of his own. Let loose all the vitriol stored up in his throat, Stede Bonnet's every fucking sin. Wet behind the ears, stubborn, lying, cheating idiot with some inexplicable control over his captain. Enough that Edward would throw himself, the greatest pirate ever live, under his own ship and the crown just to save Stede's pathetic fucking life. To completely disregard the plan Izzy put in motion, everything he had to do to make that happen. Do you have any idea what you have to sacrifice to be a friend of the crown? To trade Stede and his dignity to retain Edward's freedom? The pound of flesh cut out of him?

All for nothing.

The betrayal festers more and more every day. Even here, unacknowledged, with Bonnet flaunting himself with every step of his leather soled heels. It makes him sick to think about. Or maybe it's being in a car. Maybe both.

"I get it. She isn't cut from the same cloth as we."

And not to over step given the conversation they literally just had but-

"If it gets too much I will very gladly bring her to heel. Dogs need reminding of their collar from time to time."

This, unlike with Undine, is something she wants help with. This pest she hasn't been able to rid herself of just yet. The affirmation that they, Izzy and herself, are cut from the same cloth, and that he'll bring Jinx to heel if need be... it all sits warm and pleasant in her gut. Maybe Undine's right. Maybe it is a good thing having adults to be her adults. It's something she could get used to.

"I'd appreciate that," Darcy offers him a warm and haughty smile, "if she causes more trouble."

And, not needing to switch gears right this second, she offers her fist out for a fist bump.

Oh good. That landed as he had hoped. Some of the more modern people aboard this ship get tetchy when confronted with the realities of hierarchy. But not Darcy. Darcy understands him.

Also Darcy is very up towards the top of that hierarchy. Gee could those two statements possibly have anything to do with each other.

Satisfied, Izzy smiles back and mirrors the gesture, bumping fists with the understanding that they're good and everything is going to be ok. He's losing Edward more and more every day. He can not lose Darcy.

"I've given her a task for the time being. Hopefully she should keep our of everyone's hair for a bit."

Clearly unrelated. Darcy would absolutely not change her tune if she were at the bottom of the pecking order. Not at all.

"We'll see if she sticks to it, ehn? Maybe we'll be that lucky."

Darcy withdraws her hand back to the steering wheel.

"You didn't tell me what the Captain offered you," she says at length. Surprisingly, she does notice when conversations get changed on her, even in the face of her frothing rage about Jinx.

"Mgh-" Izzy thought he'd gotten away with that one and was already thinking about where he'd left Jinx under the hood of car with the express order to tear it to pieces and make as many wonderful weapons out of it as she can.

"It was weak, really. He offered me-" and this is said with every ounce of dramatic flair he possesses. "-a paradise world of my very own."

Complete with broad, artistic hand gesture and all.

"Complete rot of course. I can only assume it means he'd lock me in my own mind and leave me there to die. Hardly something to consider."

It is a trait that Izzy will have to learn to either love or hate in Darcy; she's a dog with a bone when it comes to what she's curious about, and she's already done far worse in pursuit of answers.

"He really isn't that inventive, is he," she scoffs.

"Like- really? Do you think anyone's actually gone for that? A paradise world all for yourself, you've just got to trust that he'll make it happen and not stick you somewhere worse? God. I have no idea how the people before us never stopped him."

He is quite the same and honestly, pressing hard is the only way to get anything out of Izzy.

"I dunno, maybe. It is amazing how fucking stupid most people are. Oh~ here~ have your own fantasy land, you'll be happy forever, completely at my whim~ Not fucking likely."

Darcy laughs, and it feels a little mean. She herself probably would've taken the out if it were closer to the start, when just being aboard felt like an injustice she couldn't stand for a moment longer. But in the way that you can't remember what it's like not to know something, she couldn't imagine doing it now.

"What did he even want anyway? Just like, 'bluh bluh stop having a crew on my ship' or something?"

"It didn't get that far, but he doesn't like that we're organized."

A beat. He needs to correct himself because they are not organized. Yet. He'll see to that soon enough.

"Organizing. It gives us too much power. A pirate crew with three captains on your ship? S'bad for business."

"Three captains? Who's the third?"

Who’s the- oh fuck did he say this? Fuck- FUCK!

“Uh- w-who um. I meant. I meant two.”

The doors lock again.

"You meant two. Because that's a really weird slip-up to make, Izzy."

Extreme amounts of skepticism radiating from Darcy right now.

Izzy’s attention shoots to the locks. He does not like this.

He likes having to think on his feet even less. Especially to recover his own fuck up.

“I’m not strong with numbers.”

Doubt intensifies, especially considering what he's told her about what he actually does in his role as first mate. God what is it with the adult men in her life and lying to her?

It does cross her mind that he could be referring to the Captain and his presence on the crew, but while the Captain is a Captain, he's certainly not her captain, and wouldn't be his either.

"Okay- well whenever you want to stop being weird about this, let me know."

Time for Izzy to face the next weapon in her arsenal; freezing him out. Her attention goes to the road and Darcy falls utterly silent.

They will sit in silence for a very long, uncomfortable duration. Looking straight ahead but hyper aware of each other on the periphery.

He’s lied, poorly, and they both know. Refusing to talk about it will damage everything they have previously talked about. Telling the truth could damage his standing in the crew.

What crew, though. Stede Bonnet has assembled a social club. If it is to be something more accurate and ready to fight then Izzy will have to do it himself.

The thought plants some dangerous seeds. They spout all the same.

Finally.

“I’m the third captain.”

It sucks, and it sucks especially so soon after seeming to come to terms with each other again. The ache from stepped-on toes refreshed and renewed. Darcy's resigned to finishing the drive, looping back around to the diner, kicking him out of the car and finding somewhere to cool off. But she doesn't get the chance to.

"You're Blackbeard's first mate, we had a Whole talk about that and what that means. How are you also a Captain?"

Izzy glances over before returning his gaze forward. It’s not an eye roll but it’s not not an eye roll, either.

Absently, he plays with the cuff of his single glove.

“And that is exactly why I don’t want to talk about it. But seeing as you’re going to keep me in this carriage until you’re satisfied..”

And seeing as he folds like a fucking book when he thinks he’s outmatched, here we are.

“Shortly before I came to this vessel Blackbeard and Bonnet threw their lives away.”

Scenes he sees with vivid detail behind his closed lids every night. It all plays out in torturous slow motion. Blackbeard feels no fear, huh. Turns out he feared one thing after all.

“I gave him every chance but… they signed themselves over to the service of the crown.”

Selfish, traitorous-
Izzy told himself he’d put this to bed, but the bike sits fresh in the back of his throat. He’s tried so hard.

“Ship needed a captain.”

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