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

[prodigalmess]

He's used to being regarded as a Know-It-All, so he takes the expression in stride. Malcolm doesn't know everything, but he does know a lot. Unfortunately, many of the things that happen on this ship are outside of his wheelhouse.

"Are you a pirate?" he asks. It's mostly for confirmation. Why mention the Golden Age of Pirating if that man isn't a pirate?

[saltandpepperbeard]

Ed has been introducing himself as 'Ed' or 'Blackbeard' depending on the occasion, and in this case, he makes the decision that if they're of the same world history, nothing should answer this guy's question better than the brief nod and:

"Name's Blackbeard."

[prodigalmess]

Malcolm's eyes widen. "Oh!" Shit. "That's... you're pretty well known, if you haven't been told that already."

'Infamous' is the word, but Malcolm's trying to be polite. He doesn't really dislike pirates, knowing what they were fighting against. They actually have quite a bit in common with the early American colonists if you look at it in a certain way.

"I'm Malcolm Bright."

[saltandpepperbeard]

"So I've heard." You'd think this would be something a man in Blackbeard's position would be proud of, or boastful about, or at the very least preen a little. He almost seems resigned to the fact that, yep, sure am the infamous Blackbeard.

No need for politeness around pirates. It's not more polite to tell a monster he isn't a monster--he knows he is, he's built his reputation on it, even if it is a double edged sword.

"So what do you do, Malcolm Bright? Only fair--you know who I am."

[prodigalmess]

Malcolm wonders how much Blackbeard has heard of his own legacy and whether or not he finds it distasteful. It's hard to judge someone while looking back at them from nearly 300 years in the future. Who could know what the real Blackbeard is like? He's half myth and hearsay.

How to describe what he does? "I catch criminals." A beat, as he realizes who he's talking to. "Murderers." Shit, not better. "Not pirates," he clarifies. "Pirates aren't as prolific as they used to be, at least not by the traditional definition of the word."

[saltandpepperbeard]

It was half myth and hearsay even when he was alive. Ed's not keen on how history has chosen to represent him, but it's not really something he can do much about. The people who do the writing aren't the people who are like him. Just as the people who catch the criminals generally aren't there to protect people like him: people like Ed have been viewed as criminals without even committing a crime.

"Ah, a constable. Somebody's gotta protect you rich, educated folk from the rest of us, huh?"

[prodigalmess]

Despite his attempts at accurately describing what he does (or what he doesn't do), this reaction was probably inevitable. No pirate is going to be glad to see a cop, even one like Malcolm who doesn't consider himself a typical one.

"The people I catch are the type that kill innocent people - women, children - for fun," he replies. "Most of them have killed multiple people."

Malcolm's no fan of murder in any form, but whether or not Ed is a psychopath remains to be seen.