I swear by my tattoo

[saltandpepperbeard]

Who: Blackbeard (Edward Teach) and YOU!
What: An Existential Crisis
When: End of April, beginning of May
Where: Everywhere
Warnings: Language?

[i. Nautilus]

This ship--floating city, really--is absolutely fucking MASSIVE. After all that weird introduction to the place, Ed's been wandering above and below deck with a wide-eyed, slightly baffled, slightly-awed, slightly alarmed look as he took in the metal hull, the lack of sails and rigging, the way you barely felt the roll of the ocean.

He had climbed over the rails and banged on the hull, amazed at the durability and evenness of the exterior. He had walked the longest of the decks, one foot directly in front of the other in an attempt to map the sheer scale of this beast. He had yet to figure out how the damned thing was moving.

He had tried to get into the wheelhouse, but that went down like a lead cannonball.

It was both the most amazing and most frightening place he had been in a long-ass time.

"This is wild."


[ii. Blow me down and pick me up! She swapped me for a trout]

Scattered around him are various drinking glasses, most empty, some with their garnishes still garnishing. He's eaten all the cherries, though, if they had cherries. And any citrus garnishes have been finished to their rind. Doesn't seem too keen on mint garnishes however.

"They come in so many colors--did you know that? This one is green!" He picks up a glass and points at the obviously green contents. "And none of them even TASTE like rum. How do they--and look, they have these little--" Ed plucks a paper umbrella from one of the cocktails, going almost cross-eyed to look at the parasol pinched between his fingers. "These little umbrellas! Look at that. How do you think they make 'em so small?"


[iii. Strange Man of the Seas]

By the end of it, this man with a scraggly salt-and-pepper beard and long hair, dressed in leather like a biker, is just laying on the deck. Not on a deck chair, just flat on his back on the floor, staring up at the sky.

Ed is overwhelmed. The lights--there's not a single candle to be had but everything is all lit up, and the casino even has colored lights, like stained glass but...not. There's a sink where he can turn a tap and the water can be hot or cold at request. The possibility of ghosts are the least of his concerns.

"But how the fuck is it moving?"


[iv. pick your poison]

Comments

[ i. nautilus ]

[gummyhabits]

Normally, Gummy sticks to Mizuki's side during this part of the day. Despite her experiences, she is a middle schooler cut off from everyone in her life save two people, after all- but today she'd decided to explore a little. And in doing so she found... an incredibly overwhelmed man, by the looks of it. Carefully, with the scrape of her shield (vault door) dragging behind her, Gummy walks over.

"Aaare you okay?"

[saltandpepperbeard]

"Sure. Yeah. Fine," he says dismissively, still focused on his minor crisis of figuring out how the hell this functioned as a ship. Or functioned as anything, for that matter.

When he finally looks up at her, he does a comical double-take and frowns. "What's a kid doing on this thing?"

[gummyhabits]

"No clue!" She says, oh so chipperly. Perhaps too cheerfully, even, given that her presence here was absolutely nerve-wracking at best. But! Gummy is not a girl who gives up! She will remain as steadfast and sunshiney as ever! ... Probably.

"I woke up here the same as anyone else... I think there's others, too, but I haven't actually met them yet."

[iii. Strange Man of the Seas]

[makesomedeals]

In things that will make his confusion better, having an entirely metal man in a very expensive silk suit stand over this strange pirate and peer down at him with his arms folded will likely not help. Unfortunately that's definitely what's happening.

"How is what moving?" Maximilien's modulated robotic voice sounds exasperated because whoever this is, is flopped across half the walkway staring at nothing.

[saltandpepperbeard]

Ed's about to explain himself, but there's something funny about the voice--and when he lazily rolls his head to put the speaker in his line of vision--

HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THAT

He stumbles to his feet with his pistol drawn, staring down the barrel at this mysterious...man? Being? Creature?

"What the hell are you?"

[makesomedeals]

He stares at it with all the calmness of someone who has guns, swords, and lasers pointed at him all the time. Sighing with a roll of the diodes in his eyes, he reaches out to knock the gun to the side.

"Can you not? I've already been shot on this ridiculous boat." If there's one thing his soft voice conveys, it's that he's not even the slightest bit intimidated right now. "My name is Maximilien, I'm an Omnic."

He glances up and down at Ed's leather outfit, ignoring the gun completely, "What are you wearing?"

Is it a sex thing? It looks like a sex thing.

iii

[palfriday]

[you know, sometimes you get the little buzz in your head that tells you there's a body to take care of, and then you actually show up to the location and the person is less dead and more just kinda horizontal.

leaning over him. hi.]

What's moving?

[saltandpepperbeard]

[AH SHIT it was worse than Ed had imagined to have her looming over him. Where had she come from?? He startled and drew his knife, but remained laying down.]

Oh, fuck!

What the hell are you?

[Ed was getting the feeling he might be using that phrase a lot in the coming weeks.]

[palfriday]

I'm your cruise director, Gal Friday! [completely unfazed

until actually her shoulders droop a little.]

We've already met, Mr. Teach... You were at the muster drill...

iii.

[opheliac]

( well, jinx might look like to be a fellow pirate but she isn't. she just digs the style really and besides, she feels it suits her best out of everything else she tried when she was back in zaun for clothing. and while ed is lying there on the deck with all of his wonders on how anything works, jinx is making her way along -- humming as her boots clanking with each step on the wooden boards. a gentle jingle with each movement due to her weaponry (pistol) brushing against her the metal pieces of her belt.

she does see the man coming into view and in an instant, it's an unrecognizable face for her. ah, that's right. there's been some new shipmates recently and he must be one of them. one would expect to greet the another, ask why he's on the ground, or even question him what he is mumbling about -- jinx does none of these. what she does instead, is simply step over him and continues on her way. but she doesn't venture off too far, she stops to trail her finger along the railing with her head a tilt -- inspecting it. )

[saltandpepperbeard]

[As a pirate, Ed's gotten used to having his privacy and personal space invaded. Being stepped over because he's being a pain in the ass and laying in the middle of the deck is by no means a new experience. Honestly, he's surprised she's the first to do so. Most people just walked away, avoiding him entirely.

The ends of blue braids ghost over the front of his leather top and if that's not the coolest color-- He wonders what it takes to get hair that color. Berries? Some sort of fancy ointment?

He tips his head to watch her at the railing, noting the pirate-like style, and then goes back to laying there, eyes now closed. Maybe she knows who he is; maybe he's got a bounty on his head (probably--he would be insulted if not) and she's come to collect. Ed's curious to see what she'll do.]

ii

[lightconductor]

Watson suppresses a smile at the enthusiasm. Also, that's a lot of drinks. A lot. He can't really blame anyone for overindulging, given the circumstances.
But it's still a lot.

"The umbrellas are very charming, aren't they? I imagine they require a delicate touch to make. I'm not quite sure what the purpose of them is, but I like them regardless." And then, in a slightly conspiratorial tone, he adds, "I was served a blue one the other day. It was very sweet."

[saltandpepperbeard]

Barely an afternoon's worth of drinks. Maybe. He's kind of lost track since there's no telling what's in them.

"Charming, yeah."

Ed sizes up the fancy doctor and briefly considers the merits of finding out what happens if you stab the little umbrella through someone's eye-socket and then open it. Charming indeed. The only thing stopping him is that the umbrellas make him think of Stede and his wardrobe of luxurious fabrics, and that Stede kind of likes this guy. But mostly because he wants to show the little umbrellas to Stede and the blood would kind of ruin it.

"Blue, huh?" He'd have to order that one next. "Heard you're interested in piracy--" Ed draws out his knife and stabs it through an olive from one of the long-since-finished drinks. He makes a show of pulling the little garnish off the end of the knife with his teeth, but he's not really that keen on the olive and almost wants to spit it out as soon as he's bitten into it. "--not much room out there for sweet things. Nor a delicate touch."

II

[businessorlibation]

Johnny (a short man with hair slicked-back, wearing a suit with a white dinner jacket) grins at the little umbrella being waved at him. The drink he's sipping at has a lovely yellow-to-red gradient and cherry garnish. "Some of the colors are new to me, but we had some in my day. I actually have a book of cocktail recipes I've been reading through, trying to learn as much about modern spirits as possible. Back home, I'm a bartender, among other talents."

Nevermind that Ed is...well, everything Ed is. Johnny's just going to be his usual friendly self, golden eyes warm. "I've been acquainting myself with all the whiskies at Tauva--the cigar lounge, one at a time, too."

Re: II

[saltandpepperbeard]

Great. Even with eras of fashion separating them, it's easy to spot a rich man--nobody of Ed's class and social stature has the time or means to keep a suit like that so starched and white.

"Been to plenty of bars; never seen anything like this. Wonder why they're called cocktails?" He turns his current drink this way and that, as if the colored liquid catching the light will illuminate him with answers.

Whiskey perks his attention, as does the mention of cigars. More accustomed to rum, but he wouldn't say no to whiskey. Plus, that sounds like a classy joint, even to someone living near tobacco-trade central, and Ed knows someone kinda classy. "Anything good?"

iii.

[hellonspectacles]

The next time Ed focuses his eyes on the sky, he will see a spectacled, erudite-looking young man peering down at him with an expression of mild curiosity.

Palamedes has never met our Lord God the Emperor, the King Undying, the Necrolord Prime, the Kindly Prince of Death. He has never seen a photograph, either, photography being a technology lost to the Resurrection along with the Internet and pizza. But there are a hell of a lot of paintings of God hanging out in the Library's archives, and it can't be denied that the man currently lying on the deck of the Serena Eterna bears a passing resemblance to the one in those paintings. Just enough to be strange. And unsettling.

The eyes are all wrong, though. And the beard. And the...fashion choices.

"Combustion engine, I think." Pal's polite smile is just a little strained. "Can I help you up?"

Re: iii.

[saltandpepperbeard]

Fucking-a, this ship is just swarming with hot, smart-looking people. Ed's definitely NOT introducing Stede to this guy.

I mean, that could change if he tells Ed he looks like a god. Take THAT, John-fucking-Watson.

"Still not sure what a combustion engine really is, but--" He decides why not and offers his hand for help up. This lot seems about as deadly as Stede's. "--sure. Been down here too long. Thanks, pal." Once he's standing--with a slight groan because he's not a young man and he hates that that's the case--Ed dusts himself off a bit; Stede's habits are starting to sink into him. He offers a gloved hand to shake. "Name's Ed. What's yours?"

i.

[decohere]

She rather go about minding her own business, but there's something that makes it a bit difficult to look away once this guy has caught her attention.

Ava squints in consideration at the statement, wild isn't really a word she'd use to describe much. Being trapped feels the opposite of wild, honestly. "Never been on a boat before, then?"

[saltandpepperbeard]

"Been on loads of boats." Ed doesn't spare her a glance at first, still admiring the scale of it all. "Just left a boat, actually."

He turns his gaze to her now and offers a genuine smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes and turns up the ends of his mustache. "Never been on a city on the water, though. You?"

III

[prodigalmess]

Interacting with people who clearly come from different time periods has become one of Malcolm's favorite things. He likes helping them try to adjust to this modern ship. Judging by the dazed look on this man's face, he's both drunk and perplexed. With his beard and leather and tattoos, he looks like he either came out of a bike shop or the Renaissance. Malcolm's going to suspect the latter.

"An engine, probably run by gas," Malcolm replies, sitting down next to him. "Or magic. Nobody's able to get into the engine room to check that there actually is one there."

[saltandpepperbeard]

Ed's aware of 'gas' as a thing, but the word 'gas' still conjures up a single thirteen-year-old-boy mindset and he quirks a brow and stifles a smirk.

"There's no such thing as magic--" he insists, so very sure, glancing over at the younger man who has sat down beside him. "It's always just a bit of showmanship and fuckery. Lights, smoke." Ed waves a hand in the air in a 'and such' gesture. "You know. A trick."

[ii. Blow me down and pick me up! She swapped me for a trout]

[serpentinthegarden]

"They don't."

He couldn't resist you know. A guy obviously out of his time period asking a question like that... it was too tempting a setup!

"They make them full size and then shrink them. It gives the little leprechauns something for their beach parties and us something decorative for a mixed drink."

[saltandpepperbeard]

"Mate, I may have been born one-hundred--or one-thousand--years before you, but that doesn't mean I just fell off the turnip wagon yesterday." He gives this jokester redhead a brief glance and decides he's not much of a threat--or drunk-Ed doesn't think he's a threat at least, and drunk-Ed is obviously the best judge of character. "You're lucky I don't shove this somewhere the sun don't shine--done worse for less offenses."

He grumbles and knocks back the latest drink, then takes the little umbrella, closed, and tucks it away in one of his jacket pockets.

ii.

[ruinously]

Very rude to eat all the cherries, but at least Dean doesn't drink a whole lot of fruity things that require them.

(except for hurricanes, he drinks those now, apparently.)

At any rate, he's not terrible far down from Ed, sipping on a glass of whiskey.

"Toothpicks, probably. At least, that's what they've always looked liek they're made of, to me."

Re: ii.

[saltandpepperbeard]

Look, man. The cherries are his. You want cherries, get your own cherries. He can even order you a new drink he's heard of, something called a Shirley Temple. You get cherries with that, and it's all bubbly.

"Yeah, but who looked at a little stick and thought 'I need to make this into a tiny parasol to put in a drink?' Like, who sees that lacking in the world and decides it needs to happen? Umbrella drinks. What does a drink need an umbrella for? It's just--" He picks up his drink, turning it a bit and looking at the tilted umbrella in it. "Fascinating. Some people, their minds."