come_sailaway | APRIL OPEN LOG: PIRATE JENNY

APRIL OPEN LOG: PIRATE JENNY

[early risers with odd-numbered rooms might notice that the morning sun doesn't quite come through the curtains as much as it usually does; they can peer out the portholes to see their views blocked by black-painted wood. everyone else won't realize something's off until the morning announcements. there's the chime, and Friday speaks, but...]

Passengers, I'd like for you all to join me in the atrium at your earliest possible convenience! We have a… situation!

[there is no bind on their legs; going is their choice. but, who wouldn't? something interesting is happening, at least. for once.

when they arrive, they will find Friday, and find that she is not alone. a woman - tall, dark, with a flowing coat and a lit cigar hanging from the side of her mouth like an old movie gangster - is standing on the raised area by the stairs; they are having a conversation that's too quiet to hear, and the woman's face is nearly as inscrutable. when enough have gathered, Friday steps forward, her empty hands clasped together in front of her, as the woman puts out the cigar on the heel of her boot and tosses it thoughtlessly to the ground.]

Good morning, everyone! I.. I'd like, I'd like to, well, I'd -

[the woman places a firm hand on Friday's shoulder - spins her, grabs her, dips her low to the ground, and kisses her soundly. at the first touch, Friday freezes; but, at the dip, she squeaks, and throws her arms up to hold herself up. the woman returns her to a normal position, and grins widely.]

Let me handle this, Dajutia. Hm? [Friday nods, and the woman turns to face the passengers.] Tau, everyone! My name is Jenny Storm, but all my friends call me Pirate Jenny! And I'd like to think we're all friends, sí? You could call me an... alumnus of the Serena Eterna; I spent a good five years being a thorn in the side of our good Captain! So, when I heard that he was getting up to his old tricks again, I decided to come around and see the fresh meat! And maybe have a bit of a vacation myself!

[she looks at each of them in turn. her grin widens, showing sharp canines.]

Now, I am sure you are thinking, "Señora Storm? You are a pirate! Are you here to rob us of our valuables?" [she barks out a laugh, then shakes her head.] No, no. First off, we're friends; it's Pirate Jenny! And Pirate Jenny is not interested in such things. In fact, I have valuables for you!

[she makes a quick movement: she sticks her pointer finger in her mouth, and then immediately uses that same finger to make some sort of sketch on her palm. seconds later, that same palm closes around a single white rose, which she extends to Friday. she pauses... then takes it, careful, holding it gentle as a bird.]

I may not be the Captain, but I happen to have a little bit of magic of my own! And, for a very, very low price, I can grant you a few small wishes! Trifles from home, maybe - do you like rocket launchers? I am getting very good at rocket launchers!

Jenny...

Okay, okay, no rocket launchers... Machine guns are as big as I'll go, promise!

[Friday just audibly sighs and shakes her head, but there's a clear sort of fondness in it, and Jenny laughs again.]

So, be sure to chat me up, sí? After breakfast! I may not miss much about this damned ship, but I do miss those little omelets!

[she salutes the audience, and then immediately leaves, taking the stairs down three at a time and needlessly pushing her way through the small crowd on her way to the elevators. Friday merely watches her go; her fingers have worried the rose to shreds that fall at her feet.

the rest of the month, until the 13th, is very much the same, with one exception: Jenny's ship remains at the Serena Eterna's side, a sailing ship somehow keeping pace with a modern engine craft. and Jenny doesn't seem to be keeping an especially close eye on it.]

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[ Yuri isn't really all that surprised to find Clarke hard at work. She seems to be one of the hardest working people he's met, on this ship or otherwise. He watches her sketch for a long moment before announcing his presence by crouching down by her ]

Cracked the code yet, boss?

[ Trying out a nickname here, see if it sticks ]

( it is decidedly not going to stick, because it's a terrible nickname and prompts clarke to squish her face into some expression of alarm mixed with disgust. still, it's not unpleasant to see yuri, and she'd desperately needed to be dragged from the inside of her own brain — at least for a moment, just long enough to remember to relax her grip around the pen before her entire arm went numb.

she'd almost laugh here. almost. sadly, everything is too serious and not at all funny, so the breath of humor dies before it can ever really live. )

Not even close. You?

[ Noted and noted. Doesn't seem like it's even a good teasing nickname, so back to the drawing board. ]

Rita's on it. [ Sort of. Mostly he's just checking in with Rita every once in a while, making sure she's good, seeing if she needs him to hit anything for her. He feels decidedly useless in all of this. ] But, no. Not even close. Jenny's drop about being here for five years isn't exactly, uh... heartening.

[ His fingers drop to almost touch one of the sigils she drew ]

I've seen this before. Where'd you get it?

( there's the kneejerk inclination to keep her secrets, clues, and sources hoarded close to her chest like some sort of mystery dragon would her hoard. clarke even tilts the body of her notebook away from prying eyes for all of two seconds before forcibly reminding herself that, wait. she and yuri lowell were on the same team here. if facing down the captains door on the bridge was the qualifier for joining the more aggressive side of the resistance movement on board the serena eterna, he'd already passed with flying colors so far as she was concerned.

instinctually raised hackles are forcibly smoothed over with a breath, and clarke even puts for the energy to smile-wince at him in a strained, unspoken apology. )

Natsuno showed it to me. He got it from Rita, who apparently got it from the Captain when she tried to break down the door.

( sneaking suspicion that he already knew the latter part, and the ruefully playful twinge of acknowledging: hey, we didn't get anything from him then, did we? )

I don't know what it means yet, but it's intricate.

[ She can keep her secrets. Honestly. he doesn't think he'll be able to help anyway. This sort of stuff has never been his strong suit. He looks away from the book, out to the ship sailing next to the Serena. He doesn't need the attempt at an apology. He stepped over a line, even without knowing it. That's on him ]

Right. [ Wait ] She told me she knocked.

[ Well, breaking down, knocking... they're all the same with Rita. He laughs a little thinking about it ]

Either it means something, or it's nonsense to keep us busy. I really don't get the guy's game. And Jenny, she was let go, five years later. Gotta wonder how many of us he's kidnapped.

( to be fair, clarke would sum up their combined effort at beating and slashing the bridge door down as politely inquiring as well, so. really, just take a moment here to respect rita's prowess in actually getting a response. clarke is now currently here, on the deck, chewing over this sigil as thoroughly as she is the detached, disinterested voice that had filtered through friday's face in response to clarke's effort to threaten their captors. )

Enough for their suffering to power this ship. For way longer than five years, for decades.

( yes, that's not a full explanation, but it's still the best summary of the most shocking realizations clarke had come to while talking to pirate jenny. and it's the factoid she gets stuck on the easiest. five years on board this ship, a successful escape, and jenny still wishes she'd burnt alongside her companions. )

Uh... run that by me again?

[ He hasn't heard this yet, and blinks at her, trying to understand what she just said. It's enough to break his usually-unaffected mask, expression dropping into confusion ]

Run by what now?

( oh man, she hadn't intended to break anyone's brain with casually discarded bombshells. and would almost feel bad for revealing unpleasant facts, but strongly believes everyone has a right to know.

so — )

Uh. Souls?

( a light sweeping gesture at the entirity of the deck — the ship, this bubble they're supposedly living in — with the hand she held her pen in, smeared in black ink and lightly cramping. )

Of everyone who ever came before us.

...shit.

[ That isn't good. That isn't good at all. His fingers go to the blastia on his wrist, a red stone in a gold bracelet, which isn't all that different. A spirit, a soul, used for energy. ]

So, what, that's what's gonna happen to us? Is that... already happening to us?

( it really isn't good. every time she shares this particular newfound fact and watches shadows of fear and alarm cross peoples faces, it just serves to reinforce how absolutely fucked they all are here. it's really not doing any favors for the preemptive worry lines slowly pressing themselves into her forehead with permanence. )

I don't think it's happening yet. ( clarke doesn't know for certain of course, but has theories. thoughts on human suffering and hunger and cruelty... ) But imagine it will, once the Captain gets tired of watching us struggle. Whenever that is, whenever we become boring. And then he'll just do it all over again.

...shit.

[ He doesn't like that. He doesn't like that at all. Yuri glances out at the ocean, spanning the horizon around them. They're just a little pinprick, a small ship in the middle of seemingly endless sea ]

So, we stay interesting, or we get the hell out of here. Good thing we know how to put on a show. [ At least, he and Rita plan to. ] We won't let that happen.

( clarke likes yuri. senses a familiar sort of fire, pig-headed stubbornness, and the willingness to throw himself on a bomb if it meant others might only walk away a little charred. he... makes her miss a few people who are probably long dead or far beyond her ability to contact back home, and where so many other interactions here have clarke throwing up some sort of caged defense out of the unspecified fear she'd tell the wrong person too much information...

that's an easy wall to vault here. and it's that baseline of trust that has her dropping her voice, admitting: )

If it gets as bad as I think it might, I don't think everyone here has the resilience to make it through this.

( she's not in charge here, on this ship in the middle of a giant, wet bubble. but that doesn't remove the leadership goggles, which have adamantly sought out the weakest links among them — and is now trying to reason why all of them could be saved instead of sacrificed. )

[ The trust in her voice is nice. It settle him a little. He remembers the first time that Estelle really trusted him, and this feels sort of like that. When she asked to go with him, he was surprised, not sure why she's pick him, not sure why she'd trust him. No one owes him their trust, he doesn't expect it of anyone. Hell, he doesn't give his own easily. And now, he's asked Clarke to help figure out what the hell they're gonna do.

He watches her face with a slight frown ]

Then we make them. Resilience, that can be taught. [ Right? ] We're gonna make it out of this. All of us.

[ He can't promise that, but he sure as hell can believe it. ]

All of these people, they've been through some shit. They'll make it through this.

( wrong, clarke thinks in response to the idea that resilience can be taught. maybe it could be learned; slog through enough shit and eventually it stopped smelling as strongly. live through enough near death experiences, and death wasn't so scary anymore. she doesn't agree with yuri's particular brand of optimism here, but hasn't the heart to look him in the eye and crush it. they needed hope, even if such a lofty concept couldn't save their lives in the end. instead clarke's nodding, no particular gusto behind the gesture, but agreeing. )

We have to. He can't keep getting away with this like he's playing —

( oh, brief sidebar as a new thought crosses her mind. it's an angle that clarke's been considering, but has never actually proposed out loud yet. and the words leave her mouth with all the stilted uncertainty of someone remarkably unmagical and ungodly trying to force their way into a world beyond their understanding — an conquer it. )

...Do you know how to kill a god?

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APRIL OPEN LOG: PIRATE JENNY

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