come_sailaway | We're wide awake now, our eyes are wide open. We're running this world, we keeping it turning

[Ed's here to party, even if he doesn't actually know what kind of party this is going to be when he arrives. At least it won't be like that swore-ay ~~soiree~~ with the rules about knives and forks that he won't remember.

He's in his leather pants and gloves, but he's left the jacket at home because it didn't seem like a jacket-necessary party and it's easier to dance around and be a buffoon if you're just in a tee shirt.

Ed is...not a good dancer. He's an enthusiastic dancer, however, a bit wiggly, and after getting a feel for what's the in-thing out her, he has some interesting choices of moves to this music that is nothing like anything he's ever heard before. He's not running into people too badly (maybe a bump here and there, but he's not going to pick a fight over it if no one else is). Obviously he's enjoying himself and being a little goofy in that way that says he believes himself to be cool enough that being goofy adds to his charm and doesn't detract from it. But if you're too young, he probably just seems like a very embarrassing dad dressed like an aging rockstar.

It's so LOUD on the dance floor, and though Ed's not dancing with anyone per se, he's not above trying to chat.]

Where's the band?! The music's coming from everywhere! [This is some fuckery.]

Edited 2022-04-28 21:49 (UTC)

[Stede has never been great at parties where he knows the rules. It's even worse when there seem to be none. At first when he'd peeked in he felt overdressed and had gone to raid the ships stores. Now he felt underdressed in a ship shirt, pale blue, short sleeved and a bit too small in his hasty plundering, tending to ride up in the middle, knee length trousers with his own stockings and something oddly called crocs.

He feels like a crock himself.

It's so loud and so dark and everything and everyone is so strange seeming to fit in while he's definitely an odd duck. He is about to leave when he spots Ed in his undershirt, dancing-- and the man could even dance like the best in the room. How could anyone compete?

Perhaps he'll just watch for now and try to pick up some pointers, though there's no way he's moving his hips like that at any point. Instead he gets himself a strangely colored drink from the bar and stands back to watch the show]

[Ed's having a blast, even if he doesn't know any of the songs, but as the music shifts and transitions to a different tempo, he finds himself looking around the darkened room. His eyes land on Stede, who practically glows from his pale ...whatever that could be called. The 'outfit' defies time to clearly stand out as "geeky," "terrible" and "tourist" even though Ed's never seen anything like it in his life (that's a lie. It sort of looks like a low-level pirate or sailor, really). It's ill-suited to Stede's fashion sense or body, which makes it as much a surprise to Ed as anything that he would still absolutely suck eggs for him.

Ed winds to a stop and twists his bushy hair off his sweaty neck as he weaves through people to join Stede on the sidelines. Should have done more than put it half up, but ah whatever.

He's a little breathless from dancing when he leans against the wall beside his fellow captain, lets his hair back down, and watches the dancing colored lights flicker across Stede's face.]

Hey.

[oh no, he's been noticed.

Oh no. Ed is coming over.

Shit.

And here he is completely unprepared and looking like-- well he's not prepared to look like this. Not with Ed. Definitely not with Ed so effortless. Could he pretend he didn't see Ed coming over and slip away?

No... no he was too close now damnit and that was definitely going to send the wrong message to someone who really just wanted a friend.

And then he comes over to the wall all cool, and lets down his hair all cool, smelling like healthy sweat and leather and something darker and absolutely compelling and Ed's shoes don't even have buckles on them.

At least it's dark enough so that Ed can't see how red his face is.]

Hey yourself.

You didn't have to come over on my account. You looked like you were tearing up the floor out there.

[he sips his drink and watches the dancers without seeing much of anything]

[Ed always notices him.]

Nah, it was getting sort of-- [Boring? Not boring. But it would be more fun with a friend along. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his pants and tries to give off effortless cool instead of nervous schoolboy vibes. Ed ducks his head, looks at the dance floor and then back at Stede.] Wanted to come say hi.

[A beat.]

Hi.

[He needed a better line.] New clothes? Just get these for the party?You look [silly] nice.

[Coming on too strong there, Ed.]

But I don't know about those shoes. How're you gonna dance in them?

Edited 2022-04-29 00:13 (UTC)

Hi.

[this is getting ridiculous, but he's a bit distracted by thumbs in waistbands which is even more ridiculous because he can barely see his hips or tattoos in the flashing lights]

Come on, Ed, I look ridiculous. You don't have to lie. I always thought my style was more fluid and up with the times but the times have run away from me. Besides that feel my sleeve. Feel it! [and whether Ed does or not he'll go on] The fabric is absolutely awful. It's cheap, it doesn't breathe, it won't last more than a year or two.

Honestly for an impressive ship its wardrobe has impressively low standards. [he sniffs and takes a drink]

And I don't dance. I don't even like dancing. [he can of course, nothing like what's going on here. Mostly waltzes and country dances and then only the men's parts. Which is fine because he's not here to dance anyway]

[Ed obligingly feels the hem of a sleeve and grimaces. It's not soft. It has a certain starchiness to it that feels unnatural. It's wearable, but not by somebody who deserves the finest.]

Alright, you look ridiculous, but it's not your fault this place let their fashion sense got to shit. Have you seen some of the stuff these people wear?

And no excuses. Everybody can dance. Just move your body with the music-- [He demonstrates with a little bopping and swaying in place and then attempts to take Stede's hands to lead him out to the floor.] You'll like it. Here, I'll show you.

I suppose not everyone can be timeless. [he nudges Ed a little with his elbow, a subtle compliment. He watches the swaying with interest and then is as startled by the request as he is the sudden reaching for his hands of all things]

No. No, I'm not interested. Really, you don't want me to be out there any more than I do. [it would look like a raven with a goose or some sort of other metaphor. He's not up for embarrassing them both tonight]

[He gives something between a shrug and a toss of his head at the compliment and is grateful for the changing colors of the lights; any blush is hidden beneath them.

With his dance offer rejected (and he's trying not to take it personally, it's just...personal), Ed goes back to leaning--this time putting a hand on the wall behind Stede's head and angling in to talk to him. Because it's loud, that's all.]

You don't know what I want, mate. [He says too low to be heard over a pounding pop beat encouraging listeners to Get Into The Groove. Then, leaning close to Stede's ear and raising his voice, Ed puts on a winning grin and says:]

Would you say 'yes' to that doctor? He's here.

Well that is a bit presumptuous of ...

[no he lost his train of thought. Ed is suddenly too close. To talk, he understands that, but it's too easy to feel the heat radiating off him and a strand of his hair bushing Stede's face. He clutches his cup a bit as Ed's breath brushes over his ear and then]

Dr. Watson? He's here? Shit. Has he seen me?! [he tries to peer around Ed into the darkness, realizes that won't work and then sets the drink down to grab handfuls of Ed's shirt and move him into a better position in front of him]

I can't let him see me like this! I look like a complete twat! Ed, lend me your jacket. Please? I look unexpectedly good in black leather and I can't... I can't go up to him looking like...well whatever the hell this is.

[It's heartbreakingly charming of Stede to be so worried about his current mancrush seeing him dressed like a complete moron.

Ed's eyes go round with surprise at the manhandling and he does the friendly thing of staying in the position he's been moved to, so that his buddy can have his panic attack or whatever Stede's doing, shielded from the eyes of a delicious doc. He's trying not to have a small panic attack of his own at the way he still feels the warm touch through his sweaty shirt.]

Sorry, mate, jacket's back in the cabin. Could give you this shirt if you want-- [Even as he makes the offer, he's already starting to lift up the purple tee shirt. How this positioning and his almost-stripping must look to the outside observer does not at all occur to Ed.]

Damn.

[it's a nice sweaty shirt too. Top tier actually as far as sweaty shirts go. But Stede is far too distracted by looking like a complete idiot to take much notice. Except when Ed starts to lift his shirt revealing lots of skin and tattoos that he can only just see in the flashing lights.

He had managed to keep his eyes averted the last time, not so this time and right and front him seems to be precluding an intimate moment and if Stede is not careful he's going to slip his hands under there and help him the rest of the way --just to check to see if the skin underneath is also damp with sweat.

Fortunately panic overrides everything else and welcome relief.]

Thank you. Here. We'll trade. [he shucks off his shirt too and shakes his head to get his hair out of his face. ]

Wait hang on I need to-- Ah hold this. [he gives Ed the old shirt and undoes his stockings which do not match]

Do you think he'll be scandalized by bare calf? I'll risk it. These can just... [he kicks them and the shoes under a nearby table, feeling almost completely nude in just his trousers and then holds his hand out for the purple undershirt which is much more classic. Not leather but at least not completely stupid]

Thanks, Ed. I really mean it.

Edited (typo) 2022-04-29 02:24 (UTC)

[He actually didn't expect Stede to take him up on the offer, but he has no qualms about trading clothes like they did the first time they met. He slips the pale blue shirt on and pulls his hair out from where it got pinned under the neckline. If it was ill-fitting on Stede, it's perhaps worse on Ed who is just a bit taller, but Ed is gonna rock it regardless.

It's only because he respects this foolish man that he doesn't laugh at his antics, but it's a close thing. A doctor scandalized by a bare calf? Mate, he's cut people open and touched their innards. Besides, he should be honored to witness the turn of an ankle and the shapely calves of Stede fucking Bonnet.

Stede looks nice in purple. He almost makes the old shirt look regal.]

Sure.

[He takes Stede by a bare bicep and once more leans in to talk, dragging Stede closer in the motion. With a squeeze of his friend's arm and a bit of a growl in his tone, he hammers the final nail in the coffin of his pathetic heart:]

Stede Bonnet is a fucking badass and don't you ever forget that.

Now go get 'im.

[he tugs the shirt on and combs his fingers through his hair-- then looks at Ed and feels-- terrible. That shirt-- it's not him. It's sort of sad that he's doing this out of friendship and Stede can't help but think he needs a better quality of friend.

And then Ed all but growls in his ear, gripping his arm firmly as if they're on the same level. As if they're the same people. And also it doesn't help that the growl goes straight down his spine and prickles the hair along the back of his neck.

Since it is dark and they are close enough so it makes no difference, he puts a hand gently on Ed's shoulder and leans in close to his ear in a not quite kiss. You have to get in close just to be heard after all.

I'll save the last dance for you...

[and he gives that shoulder a little squeeze before slipping around him to gingerly cross the dance floor. He's barefoot and getting stepped on would really hurt but-- on the other hand he could take it. He straightens. He's Stede Bonnet and he's a fucking badass... who suddenly smells like the greatest pirate of all time, but he won't think about that or pull the shirt up to bury his nose in the collar.

No. He's going to go get himself a doctor.]

[ Effie's on the dance floor mostly to just take in the environment and enjoy the party-like atmosphere. She'd made a trip to the Bric a Brac shop and is currently wearing a brightly colored sundress in one floral pattern, topped with a button up shirt that's been tied up at her chest. A second shirt has been converted to a headscarf. The patterns are a little dizzying together. ]

There's no band! [ she shouts it back over the music. ] It's a DJ! Much wider range of music!

[Her ensemble is dizzying but bold. It's colorful, has personality, makes a statement, and Ed has found that lately he's a fan of such things. Maybe not so much on himself all the time, but he enjoys the life it seems to bring to those who wear it well.

He might be a tad drunk actually, if he's doing so much thinking on a sundress and hair-wrap. He leans in and raises his voice a bit.]

What's a DEE-JAY?

[ Effie likes to explain things, it makes her feel smart and important. luckily for all involved, DJ falls into the category of things she can explain (unlike the finer workings of electricity and concepts like air-conditioning). ]

Oh! It's a person who plays music from records! [ she points to the DJ table. ] See? They're very good! [ of course she doesn't know any of the songs, but who cares? ]

[He follows her finger to the table where the DJ in question is changing out a large flat disc-shaped thing. With the changing disc comes a transition into another song.]

The disks have music?! [He didn't understand, but there is a lot he's finding he doesn't understand.] Are they always this loud?!

[He points to himself. Shaking hands seems a bit silly and misplaced on a dancefloor so he doesn't try.]

I'm Ed!

At parties, yes! [ you get used to it, or you lose your hearing, it's fine. ]

I'm Effie! You don't have any of this at home? [ it sounds worse than the districts. the poor man. he's lucky to be here. ]

No! We have bands! Or a guy on a lute!

I WISH we had this! It'd be fucking fantastic for an entrance!

[ Effie's face lights up. ] It is wonderful for an entrance! Though a lute is lovely too. I've missed parties. [ she's full of wisdom: ] War is terrible for your social life.

[Ed's not sure he's heard her right. He blinks, decides she's a bit of a lunatic like Stede, and continues on]

Imagine it is. Had plenty of battles, but never been to war.

...Have you? [She looks as soft as Stede.]

[ honestly, a very astute assessment of Effie: a soft lunatic. ]

Oh! [ she should probably clarify that. no one is sending Effie in to a war, but it really did ruin her social life during the biggest party season of the year! ]

I'm a political refugee! [ there's a surprising amount of truth to that. it turns out Effie may have committed some light treason. ] Practically a prisoner. [ that's not true. ]

[He's sort of but not quite sure what a political refugee is. Sounds kind of like she was on the losing side, but he's not that up on history.]

Can see how it puts a damper on the social life thing, then.

We're wide awake now, our eyes are wide open. We're running this world, we keeping it turning

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