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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ehehe, that's okay! I think you and half this cruise haven't played video games before. I think the general best explanation people seem to understand is... books on a visual medium, but you can control the protagonist? Of course, we'll be playing party games if it's with friends, so it's more just... fun. Like, uh, board games, I guess? Except Monopoly. Fuck Monopoly.

[ All my homies hate Monopoly. ]

It'll be fun!! I'll even teach you the controls and such beforehand when we're alone so you're not totally lost.

( ...something tells me clarke's JUST enough of a pragmatic sociopath to absolutely CRUSH people at monopoly so yeah, keep her away from the lil' top hat. and especially the little battleship.

but show her pacman, stardew valley, grand theft auto... nah, she's out of her element.

never give her the sims. the pool would never had a ladder and the backyard graveyard would be an absolute party every night. the grim reaper would attend every wedding. no. fire. alarms. )

I'd appreciate that. ( clarke "i have an almost pathological urge not to lose" griffin will never reject a leg up. even if she's not entirely sure what strings are attached to anything mizuki offers. )

But I've got a couple things I need to work on right now.

( killing the captain, getting over to jenny's ship, figuring out what the fuck various magical sigils mean, eating enough so she can't see her own ribcage anymore, continually hoarding survival items in her bedroom, and yanno, dying. )

Is this a standing offer I could take you up on later? Maybe after Pirate Jenny leaves...

Of course! I didn't expect to do anything right now. I'm still... [ He gestures vaguely to the pile of food. ] Y'know...

But that's an offer that is always on the table. Like I said, they're good if you need to decompress or whatever, so if the stress is getting a little bit too much, I have a few games that might help out!

Though, for now, I would also be willing to lend you a hand with whatever "work" you're doing?

( she's going to remember this offer, but chances of ever unwinding the knot of anxiety in her stomach enough to think she deserves to decompress are... not favorable. work ones self to death, wear your fingers down to the bone scratching at the same impenetrable door — that's her work ethic to a tee, especially when the alternative was surrendering to a slow, painful death.

and that work ethic is a burden she will usually chose to shoulder alone. i bear it so they don't have to. but a nagging thought in the back of her mind, taking into account that he's from a different world, with different knowledge, and different rules...

yeah, clarke's got a question if he's willing to help. )

Do you know how to kill a god?

No.

[ A beat. ]

Venti does, though.

( hey, that's actually really helpful information, as brief as it is. clarke visibly perks a bit, sliding from uncomfortable nostalgia to business regardless of how much meat gristle coats her fingers or the side of her mouth. )

And does he know how to kill something stronger than a god?

[ Hard to give more information when he’s lacking it himself, unfortunately. But you know what he is happy with? Making his friends talk to each other. That’s a good time. ]

Unsure. I didn’t ask for details. The god I know of my world could only be put into a deep slumber and not outright killed, so…

Your guess is as good as mine. Wouldn’t hurt to ask.

( this new thrum of excitement — this rush of blood from her heart out to the very tips of her fingers — is enough to jerk clarke from the pseudo-relaxed reverie she'd slipped into during the coarse of their conversation, and back to business. )

I will ask. Thank you.

( she's pushing her plate away from her at this moment, over-full after a month of virtually starving, and way too keen on immediately tracking down this new lead to keep forcing herself to eat. just, too much nervous energy. not immediately pushing from the table and storming off to problem solve, but well wrapped in her own thoughts. )

... I could come with you, if you'd like. Maybe the three of us could brainstorm together.

It would get you out of your head a bit, too.

( that is an offer she can absolutely get behind, if only because clarke is self aware to recognize she can come across as aggressively intent when there's a bone between her teeth to gnaw on. and that mizuki would make an excellent mitigator; a bridge between herself and venti, if he knew him well enough to know he had insight about killing gods.

when offered the opportunity to walk into uncharted territory with a guide, take it.

clarke's nodding, absolutely ready and rearing to go, but then dips her gaze to the half-full plates still strewn across the table. )

Are you done with your food?

( if beef isn't filling mizuki, imagine how satisfying knowledge could be. )

[ There's nothing up there to retain the knowledge, silly. Don't you know that jellyfish don't have brains?? It's why he's gotta eat all that meat. Fills up the space. ]

Eh... I can be. It's not like I can't come back, right?

[ Mizuki uses a napkin to wipe his hands clean before sliding his gloves on and standing from the table. He holds his hand out somewhat expectantly for her. ]

Come on. He's... probably at one of the bars. That's our best bet.

( that's sea jelly to you, mister. and there's absolutely an argument to be made that he's got a great brain, parsing through trolley problems, prisoner dilemmas, and what would you do in clarke griffin's shoes? propositions. a very smart boy, a very good boy.

anyway, clarke's taking that as willful participation in her new quest, nodding firmly and finally locating a napkin on the table top with which to wipe her greasy mouth off. then she'll even take his hand to help pulling herself to stand. that previous discomfort at physical contact undermined now that there's purpose behind it. )

Okay. I'll follow your lead.

[ Mizuki does let go of her hand soon after, not so dense that he couldn't put together that shoulder touches were a bit too much earlier. But he happily leads the way here. Fortunately, the bars were all pretty close by, so poking his head into all of them isn't much of an issue.

He'll happily call out when they spot him, giving an enthused wave, completely fine with the fact that they haven't really... even... spoke since Venti woke up from almost drowning. It's fine? It's fine. Mizuki isn't worried about it, so why should anyone else be? ]

Ven~ti! [ Okay, so much for no touching, he's totally grabbing Clarke's hand again to pull her in. Clearly just far too excited for his own good. He can't help it! Having his two closest friends in a room together is such a fantastic thought, isn't it?! ] Have you met Miss Clarke yet???

Edited 2022-04-09 08:24 (UTC)

[ so maybe quite a lot has happened these past few days. talking to jenny, flying to her ship, trying to help jinx. seeing mizuki's tentacles, nearly drowning, waking up and being hit with...

venti may or may not have gone through a rapid little life crisis trying to deal with that confession, but after downing maybe thirty bottles or so during the span of a night and getting as shamefully wasted as he could possibly be with an immortal's constitution he decides, you know what, he can roll with this. he was a god, of course he can handle a relationship with a mortal. it's just going to be for the duration of the stay on the ship. he can totally, 1000% do this. no problem. it doesn't count as leading him on if he does like him decently and it's just temporary anyway. never mind that this doesn't count as leading him on full stop, but nobody even knows that...

regardless he's getting his morning/afternoon drank on when mizuki comes in and for a moment his heart nearly skips. awful. oh, but there's clarke too--he blinks, then, even after the incredible tension of seeing her at the rail of the ship, he still brightens, his smile is cheerful as he offers a wave. ] Mizuki, Miss Clarke, hello!

Oh, so the two of you know each other? Join me for a drink, now?

[ ...... there are a lot of bottles at his table... someone has a great coping mechanism, thanks. also with the two of them in the same room it gets rather more obvious, how very similar they sound. ]

Edited 2022-04-09 20:38 (UTC)

( entirely focused on her own intentions here, and oblivious to the emotional bear trap she's willingly walked into, clarke ignores one question and quickly dismisses the next with a small shake of her head. )

They won't serve me here.

( she's neither bothered nor completely unbothered by this fact of life on board the ship but like. really? really? bring a teenager onto a death cruise, primed for suffering around every corner, and ask them to hand deliver souls to a dark, ominous being — but they can't get a beer? the first place she's been to where there's an option other than caustic moonshine, and she can't even get a cherry out of a garnish dish. if they live through the following months, maybe she'd lodge a complaint.

or... wait, can teenagers drink? venti's immaculate glow of youth against clarke's slow healing blisters and premature worry lines really raises some questions about which of them is older, and she's absolutely doing a quick count of the bottles he's managed to amass without being chided by friday. it's all a bit suspicious. suspect even. if she'd come here with any other intention besides to ask far-too-personal questions, she may have even been distracted enough to ask. but clarke's so focused in on the potential for new and amazing answers — key pieces of the puzzle falling into place, the prospect of walking out of this bar with the next step towards securing their freedom (and maybe a small headache) — that she hasn't even made much of an attempt to shake her hand from mizuki's grasp. or made the connection about just how similar their voices are; she's never met twins, but will later imagine this is roughly what it's life. )

Actually, I'm here because I have a question. For you. Since Mizuki thinks you could have an answer for me.

[ Just come from a world/place where it's totally legal for you to have drinks past 18, Clarke, geez. Not that Mizuki is going to order alcohol himself for them or anything. They're here on Serious Business(tm) and they need to keep the mind sharp... or whatever. He will wave down an order for two glasses of water though, releasing her hand at least to hand a glass over to Clarke and taking a step away so he can dump his over his head without getting either of them wet. He would feel worse about constantly making the floor wet if he, one, cared about this ship at all, and two, didn't know that magic and ghosts were the things to clean up after him. If anything, this is just best case scenario for him.

He doesn't know why Clarke isn't just asking him outright. Maybe to wait for some "go ahead" from Venti? Well, that's fine, he knows how that conversation goes anyway, so he'll just ask! No problem! ]

How do you kill a god?

[ he can absolutely be a runner of drinks to clarke just as he is for jinx, because unfortunately he's very much an enabler of drink, always. even if he'd asked just now, he'd pour her a glass from his most recent bottle, it seems the others are empty and just stand as evidence of his awful alcoholism.

there's a brief twitch to his mouth as he watches mizuki dump water on himself, then that question... gods do happen to be on his mind, it's true. most recently because of mizuki, as well as other reasons besides himself and morax on the ship. but it slips his mind that he'd offered this info to mizuki, the question takes his tipsy mind by surprise as he stares at him, then clarke, eyes going wide, paranoia flickering briefly and sharply. paranoia usually unfamiliar to him but sparked since seeing black tentacles and falling in the pool. ] Wh--what do you mean, how--

Why do you ask? [ they don't know who he is, they shouldn't. he's no longer a god proper. the way he sits up in startlement is just that edge of suspicious and nervous. ]

( the first benefit of being the most sober and socially aware person in this triangular conversation is: while mizuki is off to the side, casually dousing himself with water, clarke gets a front row seat to spectate the flurry of emotions that leak across venti's face in reaction to their question. disbelief would be understandable, shock even more so. suspicion isn't even out of the realm of acceptable reactions, or a hungry sort of curiosity.

but. is that nerves? or fear?

hm. )

Because I might need to kill a god soon.

( this pause in her speech is brought to you by The Clarke Griffin School Of Laying Implication And Weight Into Short Sentences To Evoke Strong Emotions From Whoever She's Talking To, and then... she relents a bit. helps herself to a chair across from him, arms folded against the edge of the tabletop and water cup untouched. )

Or something stronger than a god. But I don't know where to start. Can you help me with that?

[ Hey, it's not Mizuki's job to be socially aware. And even if it were, he wouldn't know how to start. Reading people's emotion through mediums of expression doesn't really work all that well for him. Touch? Sure. Body language? Eh. Facial expressions??? Hard no. Still, he's glancing between the two as they speak, and... he does get slightly serious himself. As much as he may be excited about having them together and talking like this, he's not so unaware that he can't piece together this is actually important. ]

I thought maybe... you might be able to provide a little bit of insight about this? I was hoping, at least, we might be able to talk about possibilities and such if it... if it had to come down to it? And I know you said your world had a lot of gods in it, even, so this sort of question should be right up your alley, right?

[ his stare at clarke is fixed and almost blank, then--mizuki's follow up seems to snap him out of it a little. paranoia and fear flares then dies down like a small flame blown by wind. he blinks as if from a slight daze, touches lightly to his temple. he'd never say he'd had too much to drink because that might as well be impossible, but... also, he's never quite been a paranoid drunk before. ] Ah, I see--! No, it's no problem, I can definitely help as much as I can. Oh, I did tell you a little about this at the party, didn't I... [ it's coming back to him now, he seems to relax more as he sits back again and refills his glass.

more of his wit returns to him now after that brief spell of... whatever it was. he's fine. perfectly fine. ]

I do come from a land of gods and their countries. All nations in Teyvat are under the guidance of their patron god, except for one: my own. [ the country he comes from, and also the one under his jurisdiction as its former god. ] Many gods have perished in my world during the Gods' wars thousands of years ago, and the years since then.

[ as for fighting the powers above even gods: that's something he may yet may be evasive even to the hero of his current era, for now. it may require a god with more conviction than him when his old friend, goddess of ice and love would challenge the heavens. ]

I could certainly tell you a few stories of those gods' falls. But before I do, the god you seek to kill--

Do I assume you mean the Captain?

( that blank, fixed stare is met with an evenly burning intent flecked amidst the otherwise sea blue quality of her irises. but then he's distracted, looks sidelong at mizuki and seemingly returns to the outer rim of the land of the functional. for now she let's that suspended moment of sizing each other up slide, content that venti's proved to be a cooperative interviewee. he starts talking, and clarke gently nods along — as if, of course, she understands every part of this and isn't merely filing it away to be chewed over later — until he's got a question to pose back her way. )

I don't know if he's a god.

( look, pirate jenny hadn't exactly spelled out things in the most digestible, straight forward way. but clarke's in information gathering mode, trying to at least give herself a baseline for all possibilities before sinking her teeth into one and following it through to the end. )

And I don't know if he can be killed, but.

( but yeah. this is an unspoken, heavily implied but yeah. )

[ There's nothing wrong with talking about killing the Captain while on his ship, haha. But also, maybe they shouldn't use his name so blatantly? Should Mizuki bring this up? He feels like maybe he should. But also, maybe they would need to go over to Jenny's ship instead...? He doesn't really want to do that. And there's no guarantee that he still couldn't listen, either! Ughhhhh... ]

Or, at the very least, incapacitation would work for the purposes of trying to get everyone home. Getting rid of him so nothing like this happens again would be nice, though. It may even give the ghosts on board some kind of peace.

[ it's true, it's rather reckless to talk of captain-icide right in the captain's own boat, but on the other hand where could they really go?... inside a cabin, but he doesn't quite know that info and, they're all on this murderous ghost cruise together. surely open talk of mutiny wouldn't be uncommon on this voyage or even previous ones. ]

I've also suspected the Captain of being as such. [ and friday could potentially be her familiar. gods in his homeworld would be rather hands-off in regards to each others' territory ever since the wars, but he supposes he can't quite be so laissez faire as a passenger here. ] But I haven't met him, and if he were a god-- [ he'd be a different type of god than venti himself. having caught a glimpse of power from a god from another world, and he's already very aware of how varied in power and form gods are. he, for instance, as one of the weakest. ]

If he were, it shouldn't be impossible to kill or incapacitate him. Gods are not as all-powerful or indestructible as they may seem, this should hold true even across varied worlds. They could be slain or sealed away. [ ... actually, he should bring that up to morax. he as barbatos hadn't sealed any however, it contradicts his nature of freedom. ] I don't have knowledge of the methods of the latter, but I have tales of the former. Shall I share a summary of a few?

( it probably says a lot about clarke griffin's problem solving tactics — and herself as a person — that she'd absolutely skipped over the possibility of sealing the captain somewhere where he simply couldn't hurt anyone else. consign him to his own, lonely, cruise — just deprived of passengers, and see what sort of suffering he'd create from his own body to entertain his bloodlust. no, she'd gone directly to cold blooded murder. divine destruction. absolute annihilation. virulent vengeance for the souls of people she'd never known and never would, yet that still served her dinners and pulled down her bed. maybe even a piece of peace for friday, and pirate jenny.

...peace for herself, for natsuno. for the dead that sorta wished they remained dead, and the living who wanted to reclaim their lives. for anyone who didn't want to be a pawn in a sadists indulgent chess game. )

I'd like to know whatever you know.

( how you know it isn't currently on the radar, but who knows, maybe that's a mystery for another time.

again a mark of insistence and stubbornness, clarke's leaning a little further forward onto the table. straining to catch and hold venti's gaze, and letting an ounce of the burning desperation swirling in her chest to leak across her face. to spark in her eyes, the promise of a forest fire in their future if only she couldn't learn how to strike the match correctly. )

And I mean everything. Please.

[ In Clarke’s defense, it isn’t as if Mizuki has quelled her murder thoughts at all. It was his first as well, and he was more than happy to let her know about the whole… murder god thing with Venti.

Now, though, he falls completely silent, with his eyes curiously and intently on Venti. For him, this isn’t just about the Captain, after all. He still has a god back home he wishes to kill. ]

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