tushanshu | 001 Ω Video

[A blond, pony-tailed man with discerning blue eyes peers into the camera, pausing momentarily as though he expected something significant to happen. And then he raises his eyebrows and quirks one side of his mouth in a facial shrug, apparently deciding to move on despite the lack of it.]

I suppose this is more efficient than quill and ink, but it lacks a certain panache, wouldn't you say? [Being that Westley's not quite certain who he's addressing, best to presume there's someone or another there.]

So, here we are. Not that I can particularly identify who "we" are other than myself, nor am I especially well-versed in where "here" is, but thus the point of my inquiry. [A small, thin smile at his humor, which somehow manages to come off as less self-congratulatory and more charming.] Perhaps someone might be so kind as to share whatever they feel is relevant to a relative newcomer.

Oh, and I nearly forgot.

[He didn't, but best to come off casual about this specific area.]

If anyone can point me toward a blacksmith, that would be quite helpful.

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A shame, that. I had been hoping for some odds and ends that seem to have been lost in transit. [Dodging questions is a talent of any great pirate!]

"Odds an ends" of the sharper variety, I imagine?

[James knows the sound of a question being dodged, sir, do not toy with him!]

Sharper? my, what an excellent idea you've just had. I suppose it would be best to have some method of self-defense in this unknown climate.

[But you're such a good toy, good sir!]

I thank you for the suggestion.

[It's none of James's business what he wants a sword for. Lots of people carry swords. In fact, he does.

Still, upon arrival in a new and unfamiliar place, there are only so many uses one would find of a smithy. It's not as if he needs a horse shod. That leaves swords, armor -- perhaps the melting down of some metal rings, to free the jewels set within, but almost certainly only stolen ones.

In short: nefarious purposes, all.]

Coyness does not become you, sir. Have you got a name?

[Doesn't it? He thinks it's quite a good fit. Like a glove -- or a mask. Which he may as well be wearing for all the mischievousness he's feeling. He can hardly help it; undue nosiness AND an air of authority? This man practically screams "privateer." Or, perhaps, something more along the lines of a commission. Someone of the type Westley has spent the last five years alternately outsmarting and outrunning.]

[In short: low hanging fruit.]

I have. [Several, in fact. He debates which to offer.] Good thing too, because I'm not sure "sir" becomes me, either.

Westley will work nicely. [Does it sound like he's offering an alias? Oh dear, how perfectly incidental.]

[Careful, Westley. For all the fuss and bluster, this is no ordinary Naval buffoon. He may find he's bitten off more than he can chew. Especially as James has been here longer and had the opportunity to form alliances.

~~If you can call a Parisian inspector, with whom he has a cordial but hardly warm relationship, a drunkard colonist, and a street urchin "allies".~~]

Westley, then. I am Admiral James Norrington, and I hope you have not come here with a mind to make trouble. I believe you'll find tempers rather sharply honed, at the moment.

[Nonsense, who ever got anywhere being careful?]

[Admiral. My, quite the situation for a lone, ship-less pirate. In the hands of a lesser man, this might be concerning...]

[(It is, just the slightest bit. But he'll figure something out. And, truly, with his list of problems such as it is, the irritating questions of an Admiral without his fleet is near to the bottom.)]

I've not come here of any mind at all of my own. And, as such, I have desire to do naught but gather my bearings and make a living. [Not necessarily an honest living, but that remains to be seen.]

But, curious that you should mention high tempers. I found the whole process surprisingly civilized.

It is without doubt a lovely kidnapping.

[But still a kidnapping. James's voice seems to imply that if Westley doesn't realize that, his opinion has sunk, if possible, even lower.]

At any rate, when you're in the city proper, you'll find that there are a number of Kedan who are less than thrilled with our presence. They can be quite hostile in expressing their displeasure.

Kidnapping, hm? [It's more-or-less clear he wasn't considering it that way, but his tone is amused whereas his thoughts are anything but. He'd assumed, frankly, that all inhabitants were dead back home, like he must surely be. But it seems possible that he isn't dead, just misplaced.]

[For "hostile" people, they're quite free about giving newcomers a guided tour and private rooms. Curious, that.] You're saying we were kidnapped and provided with individual flats free of charge so that they can covertly look down their noses at us?

[Not to question your obvious vise-grip on the situation, Admiral.]

[James, personally, is a big supporter of the "everyone's dead," theory, and that this is some sort of ridiculous afterlife. The point being, he was still brought here without his consent.

He might explain that. If Westley weren't being such a rude little prig.]

I suppose you were fully informed and consulted before being hauled off here, then. My mistake.

[Oh, come now. If he wanted to be rude there's a fine plethora of better words he could use.]

I rarely find permission is asked for any of life's twists and turns. So long as one keep on their toes, there's nothing that can't be at the very least made tolerable, eventually.

[He sounds confident, doesn't he? Even Westley isn't sure how much of that is simply bravado anymore.]

[James has found one can often be rude without being crass at all, if one is clever. And Westley seems to have cleverness in abundance.

Clever, confident pirates. Is there a worse kind?]

Made tolerable. [He gives a dark chuckle.] Then here's the short of it, sir. The turtle on whom we depend for sustenance is sickened and dying, a state for which the Kedan have largely chosen to blame the recent transplants.

[More or less. Look, if he wants the details he can speak to a historian.]

[Oh, but there is a worse kind. They could also be good at everything.]

Ah, we reach the proverbial impasse. I suppose it's too simple to hope that we could take to the seas and find safe harbor elsewhere? [Of course there's more than one selfish thought behind the question, but that aside.]

[Ugh sassy pirates who are good at everything. ANYTHING BUT THAT.]

As a matter of fact, something of that nature may be in the works.

[Don't even think about it, Westley, that is his ship and you are not about to go commandeering it or whatever you pirates call it these days.]

[That his face can be clearly seen is the only thing that keeps Westley from a slow-forming, impish smile. If there's a sea-worthy vessel here, he'll find it and make himself Her captain.]

Is that so? How very resourceful.

[No. No he will not. Sir, contain yourself and refrain from exactly these sorts of shenanigans, thank you very much.]

Indeed.

[Nonsense, where's your sense of adventure?]

And I suppose you've already taken steps toward navigation despite the utterly unknown coordinates at which we find ourselves. [That's actually a question. Brag about your genius please, while also telling Westley how to navigate here in Shangri-La.]

[Wrecked. By people like you.]

I suppose I have.

[Like hell is he sharing that information. If he's learned one thing in dealing with Sparrow, it's not to make bargains on incomplete information.]

001 Ω Video

bahahaha this will end SO WELL

i cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am for this CR.

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slowness fail ;;; my apologies!

don't worry about it, I was on hiatus!

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