unknownseas | Welp We're Here and That's What Matters

Welp We're Here and That's What Matters

[Perhaps it's tradition by now, he doesn't know. Still, he does send a note to everyone some time after the trial. Simple and to the point:]

Because everything on this ship is awful, I think a drink is needed. Come get some at the bar, it'll do you some good as long as you don't drink too much

Filbo (pawprint)

[Indeed, if you come to the bar you'll find there's one of everything. Filbo seems to have asked literally every drink he knows or has at least heard about, and lined them up from the most mellow to the strongest. There's one of each, so it's limited, take yours before it's gone! Or...ask Jimmy Buffett for more, he's right there.

Should he be encouraging drinking? He's not completely certain, but he had to do something! And this is as good as anything -- not festive because this is no time to be festive, but also social enough to encourage coming.

This will do.]

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[Constantine is at the bar, of course--but for once, he's not here to drink. The lack of any sort of glass in his hand is perhaps more startling than if he had one to begin with. He can be found sitting at one of the stools, staring at the peeling wallpaper behind the bar.

He raps his fingers against the bar counter, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. His chin rests on his other hand, and between his fingers, he holds a lit cigarette--though, judging from the amount of ash currently accumulated on the end, he hasn't been focused on it. Perhaps it's not a particularly good idea to smoke in such a confined room, but Constantine doesn't seem to care.

Eventually, the cigarette burns down to the filter, and Constantine seems to realize that he's wasted it. With a sharp grumble, he stubs it out in an empty glass and rubs his face.]

M'not in the mood to drink. Not tonight.

[After loitering in the bar for a few hours, watching people pass in and out, he makes his way to his usual perch out on the top deck. He can be found leaning against the railing, staring down at the ship's wake. He's jotting notes down into a small handheld journal of some sort, occasionally pausing and glancing back up.

It's difficult to tell what he's writing--his handwriting is absolute shit, and most of it seems to be disjointed words in an effort to get his thoughts down, instead of any attempt to make it readable. If approached, he'll stop, shutting the journal and tucking it into his jacket.]

We've got thirteen people left. Judging from the amount of people who've been dying each week, that means, at best, we have six more weeks before Jack runs out of people to pit against each other. At worst, someone gets trigger-happy and half of us get killed in the process, leaving only a few days.

[He pauses, eyes flitting to the dark storm clouds on the horizon.]

Either way, we're running out of time.

[Lalli is quiet as he listens to Constantine talk. He's not leaning over the railing- as usual, Lalli's fear of the water keeps him from going too close- but he's still close enough to hear Constantine's description of the situation.]

Someone will come.

[Why does he sound so sure of that? Maybe the dream he had made him feel secure in that knowledge. Or maybe it's something else entirely. But regardless, Lalli doesn't seem to be hopeless yet.]

Someone's already coming. We just have to wait for them.

[Constantine pauses, caught off-guard by Lalli's assured tone. He raises an eyebrow, glancing over towards him.]

You seem awfully sure about that.

[It could be that Lalli also received contact from Calypso via a dream--though, he doesn't plan on communicating that out loud, for fear of Jack overhearing. He pauses, thinking.]

Dreaming for escape doesn't make it happen automatically, you know.

[He hopes Lalli understands what he's trying to say.]

[Constantine are you sure about that? Lalli doesn't usually get jokes or double-speak, so that might fly right over Lalli's head.

Thankfully it does not, because he's actually listening for a mention of dreams.]

I know. I have a lot of experience with dreams.

[He lets that hang for a moment, to show that he gets what Constantine means, before continuing on.]

Dreams are how mages communicate over long distances in my world. Sometimes they can find each other in the waking world after finding each other in dreams.

[Listen, worst case scenario, it flies over Lalli's head and the thing remains a secret! It's a risk he has to take.

Anyways, Constantine nods slowly, looking at the closed notebook in his hand.]

I'm familiar with this, yeah. Though, most of the people who decide to invade my dreams are there just to get something out of me or harass me.

[He flips the notebook open again, thumbing to a blank page. With his right hand, he takes a pen out of his pocket. He begins writing, one letter at a time.]

Hell, I used to date this magician who used to speak backwards to cast any sort of spells. Like, "enter his dream" would be spoken aloud as "retne sih maerd". Never figured out how she did it, and never was able to get it to work for myself. But I got a lot of practice learning how to conceptualize things backwards.

[If Lalli glances over towards the notebook, Constantine seems to be making a greater effort to have his handwriting be more legible. He's writing something--and, if Lalli squints, he'll be able to make out the following--

OSPYLAC EKOPS OT UOY?]

That's a stupid code and really easy to mess up. Your magician girlfriend needs to get better at making codes that are usable.

[But he can insult that person while also using the code, so he reads Constantine's note before nodding. He didn't catch the person's name but it's not hard to guess who it is.]

Well, she's not my girlfriend anymore. She's probably better off without me, if I'm bein' honest.

[Anyways, after Lalli nods, Constantine completely scribbles out the words so that they're unreadable. Not even the impressions against the next page will tell anyone anything. He scratches his chin, closing his notebook and tucking it back into his pocket.]

We need to stall...somehow. That means making sure nobody does anything stupid like trying to kill Jack, even if it does seem like fun.

Can we stop people from killing each other? That seems like the best way to stall.

[He's sill salty about how murders keep happening every week.]

[Constantine lets out a harsh laugh.]

You know as long as Jack keeps giving us those shite motives, it won't stop.

[Listen, he's salty too, but....]

You'd think people would, you know, not kill people on a weekly basis. It's pretty easy outside of this ship, usually.

It must really be getting to everyone then, if they keep falling for it. Murdering for a motive is stupid, it will never work.

Of course we are. That woman's actions today proved that; despite her threatening everyone earlier we trusted her and yet she thought she could get away with killing us through a mistrial.

[Reika leans against the railing, looking at those clouds.]

Maybe our Captain isn't the one we should be the most worried about.

Oh, shut it. He's the one who put us in this situation in the first place--if it weren't for him, none of us would be going through this right now.

[His tone is harsh as he addressed Reika.]

She thought what she was doing was right. That it'd be a loophole she'd be able to exploit. Trusting the Captain to deliver on anything besides what he's already done was a mistake, yes, but--

[A pause. He looks out over the water with a sullen expression on his face.]

It's what I would've done.

You're one to talk. Of course it's his fault. I never said it wasn't. The fact you just admitted you'd do the same thing justifies what I just said.

[Still, even as she rebukes him her voice isn't that angry.]

We're past the point of trying to moralize, Constantine. We can't reason with him or anyone he likely is working with. Yes, it's his fault. That's why we should be considering an assault on him instead but we're not.

[Because none of us want to end up like Chloe.]

Though, what do I know?

[He bristles a little bit, glowering at her. He doesn't address the comment Reika makes about him--not right now.]

With our current resources? Hah! I don't think so. Going about things in a brute-force manner will only end in more people being dead, especially with what the Captain has on hand.

[They found robots on the ship the other day. Robots!!! The Captain clearly has the means to end them all, if he really wanted to, but something is obviously stopping him....]

Trust me--I've dealt with people like him. He knows he's going to be met with resistance, and trying to attack him in the most obvious way possible'll only cause him to double down on his defenses.

I'm used to being against odds I'd never be able to beat. You can say that was my only real talent. How could someone without magic stand against a practical army of mages?

[Deceit. Dishonor. Tricks. Jack helped to be sure but Reika knew how to wait until things needed to be done.]

We have things he doesn't have. Of course fighting him head on would never work. [She glances at the ocean. Her smile is almost predatory.]

But the ocean often washes useful things ashore. The tide's about to change, Constantine.

Oh, I'm familiar--it's a situation I've found myself in several times over.

[He knows what Reika is talking about--facing down impossible odds with absolutely nothing going for yourself except a confident smile and whatever other bluffs you have up your sleeve.

But something about Reika's tone makes Constantine pause. He glances out towards the ocean, rubbing the back of his neck.]

You seem awfully sure of this.

[His tone is cautious, almost questioning. If Reika had also been approached in her dreams, well....]

I wouldn't be surprised.

[She was throwing everything on single bet and she lost that. She knew that even before she arrived on the ship. Constantine might have known what she meant but she guessed he had better luck than her.]

Mm, well, I don't believe in coincidences. What happened with Miss Price last week proved to me something.

[She pulls out a scrap of paper out of her pocket. She scribbles:

C told me a way would open

Then she balls up the scrap and throws it into the ocean as soon as she was sure he finished reading it.]

[Constantine studies the paper, his expression betraying nothing. He watches as the paper gets crumpled up and thrown over the railing, his eyes tracing its trajectory.]

Giving the kraken its daily dose of fiber, I see.

[This is the only thing he says in acknowledgement of what she's written.]

I feel our chances would significantly improve if we at least had an idea as to where Jack was keeping Davy Jones' heart.

I think it could use something other than vending machine junk.

[And our acquaintances.]

We would but that's something I've been wondering about. Does he even know where it is?

I spoke to Jones a few weeks ago, and he said he's not privy to that particular information. Probably to stop him from sending us after it.

[Constantine crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.]

If I know Jack, though, he'd probably keep it locked up tight--or maybe close to him. That way, he'd always be ready in case someone tried to take it from him. He's not that stupid to just leave it somewhere obvious.

[But apparently, stupid enough to leave multicolored keys lying around the ship...]

I doubt it's in his office but he might have a safe there or deeper in the ship.

[Maybe.]

Something bothers me. He clearly is using magic of some kind and yet I don't think he knows how to use it properly.

Of course he doesn't. The man's a CEO, do you think he'd bother to actually learn magic properly? He'd just see the sparkles and flame and immediately try to emulate it with no thought to the consequences.

[All magic has its price--it's just not immediately obvious what it is, sometimes. Constantine knows this all too well from experience.]

In my professional opinion, that's more dangerous than someone who actually knows what they're doing.

I wouldn't know. From what I know of the magic in my world either you're born with it or you're not. If you're using it at all you're likely trained in it in some degree. Though, I do agree he wouldn't go through the effort. That's why I'm unsure about this whole thing.

[She knows that about magic, though. She was proof of that.]

He likely paid someone to help him or stole it from someone. I doubt he would be able to do this by himself.

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Welp We're Here and That's What Matters

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