(no subject)

[try_corsets]

It has taken most of the day, but Elizabeth is finally able to leave her room without clutching the wall for support. Last night is but a blur, a series of images involving a man with a knowing smile claiming to be the Antichrist and supplying her with an oddly bright drink capable of stealing the wind from beneath an angel's wings, or something like that.

Elizabeth did learn one very important lesson last night: never accept a drink from a madman calling himself the Antichrist, real or no. There are worse things than rum.

Making her way into the bar, Elizabeth groans and shields her eyes from the light until they adjust. There's something about the atmosphere tonight that reminds her a great deal of Tortuga. A word here, an eye patch there -- she blinks and quirks an eyebrow as she takes a seat at the bar.

Bloody pirates, she thinks automatically but without any heat. Clad as she is in the clothes she had been wearing during the battle, Elizabeth is aware that she looks more pirate than lady. It should bother her, but it very much doesn't. She might investigate the ramifications of this when the headache goes away.

Comments

[damn-sunflowers.livejournal.com]

What the hell is it with people dressing like that?

Shit.

He shakes his head, flashes her a glance, and goes back to his food. Then he looks at her again.

Chick at a bar. That's about as far as his thoughts carry him.

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth's thoughts haven't carried her very far beyond 'food' and 'water,' but she's there to meet his gaze the second time he glances over, a defiant look in her eyes.

Defiant and tired.

Without looking away, she spreads her fingers on the bar's surface.

[damn-sunflowers.livejournal.com]

"Wht th hll oo lkn at?"

Now that was smooth. Swallowing his dumplings and chasing them down with a mouthful of tea, he tries again after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"What the hell you lookin' at?"

This time, his thoughts go as far as get your own damn dumplings.

She looks kinda hungry. He knows that look and glances down at his own bowl. There's some left. Usually there ain't much of a struggle between mine and stop frickin' starin' at my food, bitch and for a moment he almost stops eating, but why should he?

Because chicks at this place are frickin' weird, Mugen, that's how come.

"You hungry or something?"

[try_corsets]

More than a little taken aback, Elizabeth does her best to cover it by straightening and flashing a quick, chilly smile before looking away.

Really, she shouldn't expect any less considering the company she has been keeping lately.

"As a matter of fact, I am," she tells him, tone arch. Somewhere in the back of her head, she can hear her old governess telling her that a lady never admits hunger. "However I do not think I have sunk so low as to steal food from another."

Calmly examining the specials board, she points out, "you glanced at me first."

[damn-sunflowers.livejournal.com]

"Did I say you were gonna steal it?"

Shit. Another weird frickin' chick. A whole damn struggle plays across his face: mine, get your damn eyes off it versus she's kinda hot. It takes him a while before he speaks again.

"I was gonna be nice..." Don't do it, don't do it... "and get you some of your own. I'm Mugen. You got a name?"

Shit, he did it. There go those coins if she says yes, 'cause he ain't gonna go back on his word or nothin'.

Shit. This place sucks.

[try_corsets]

There's a moment of wicked amusement as Elizabeth considers, and then she slowly turns to look at him once more, folding her hands on her lap.

"What a kind offer, Mr. Mugen. I wouldn't dream of turning it down." The bar tab isn't going to pay itself. "I am Elizabeth Swann, lately of Port Royal. You may call me Miss Swann."

A hint of a smile plays about her lips, possibly at his expense -- much like her dinner.

[damn-sunflowers.livejournal.com]

How about I call you bitch. He ain't so sure what's up with this damn I'm-so-much-better-than-you shit, but then again... he kinda asked for it.

Not that he cares.

"How come I gotta call you Miss? That ain't fair." Where he's from, names are names. None of this title shit, unless you wanna be rude. Hey, Vagrant. Hey, Ronin. Shit like that.

Still, he orders her a plate of dumplings and a cup of tea, 'cause you can't have one without the other and beneath that frickin' attitude she got on her like a pair of brass ones, she ain't half bad.

Too damn skinny, though. Just look at how skinny her hands and arms are. Nah, he likes chicks with a little more meat on 'em.

[awesome_lilly]

Lilly is on her way to the bar for a serious helping of rum, and the nearest bit of open counter is next to Elizabeth.

"Rum, please," she says, laying a hand on the bar and turning to glance at her door again.

"In something, if you want. And, um, an umbrella wouldn't hurt."

A strawberry daiquiri pops up, bedecked with colorful umbrellas.

[try_corsets]

Rum.

Elizabeth looks over with slightly bloodshot eyes.

Rum in something.

Admitting that she briefly considers whether or not her tea would be improved by the addition of rum is not something Elizabeth is prepared to do, but the umbrella is fair game.

"Why is there a miniature parasol in your drink?"

She peers curiously, convinced it looks more like a fruit juice than a beverage containing rum.

[awesome_lilly]

"To keep it from getting rained on," Lilly says.

She lifts the glass and takes a long swallow.

"Rain would dilute the rum. We can't have that."

[try_corsets]

"I see," Elizabeth says in a tone of voice that indicates quite the opposite. "Does it often rain indoors here?"

A quick glance at the observation window helps Elizabeth assure herself this is a valid question.

"I confess I have never heard of such a thing."

[awesome_lilly]

Lilly giggles a bit, her mood improving with the amount of rum that's just hit her bloodstream.

"Well, it hasn't yet, but I never rule anything out. Are you new?"

[try_corsets]

"Not technically," she quips, "as I was fully grown last I checked. I am, however, relatively new to this establishment, if I can still claim such after several weeks."

Not that Elizabeth has been particularly social.

Thinking on that, she decides to at least make an attempt and offers a small smile.

[mogget_cat]

Cats are always great distractions, when it comes to headaches.

Unfortunately, it seems that this one is also suffering from the piratey affliction affecting many of the other patrons.

The little, white cat coils about Elizabeth's ankles, and mews softly, but it comes out like "Miarrrrrrrrr."

[try_corsets]

Going perfectly still, Elizabeth checks the urge to jump and looks down slowly, almost as if she's expecting to find something else her brain will have trouble explaining.

Ah. A cat.

That would explain the brush of soft fur on her ankle.

However, this cat seems to be vocalizing a sound she is quite familiar with, after a fashion. Perhaps it is not unlike Mr. Cotton's parrot.

Or perhaps her imagination is simply running away with her.

"Hello," she whispers and quickly looks around to see if anyone noticed her talking to a cat.

Jack would be ever so amused.

[mogget_cat]

Thinking it possibly better to keep its mouth shut, for now, the cat purrs and rubs up against Elizabeth's ankles in quiet greeting. Aside from the eyepatch and bandanna about its neck, the cat looks completely normal, its fur soft and white.

[try_corsets]

Completely normal and more than a little affectionate. Elizabeth is anything but immune at the moment.

"You must belong to a visiting pirate," she concludes, as yet unaware of any mischief. It doesn't seem all that abnormal to hear and see all things pirate. "The eye patch is quite cute."

Another look around, and she sinks to her knees beside the cat, holding out a hand.

[mogget_cat]

Cats are, after all, pirates in their own way. They look after themselves foremost, go to all extremes to get what they want, and they keep to their code.

Unfortunately, no creature besides cats can decipher the cats' code.

But it is there. Probably.

The white cat looks up at Elizabeth with brilliantly green eyes before stepping forward to lightly brush its head against her hand to insinuate that now is the time on Pirates when we scritch.

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth may not care for being told what to do, but she will certainly tolerate such demands from a feline, especially as it pleases her to do so.

Scratching behind his ear, she runs her other hand down his back and murmurs her approval.

"Well cared for, indeed. I imagine you are quite adept at keeping the rats down on board." After a closer look, "your eyes are really quite extraordinary, Mr. Puss."

[goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com]

Clive blinked over at her when he returned to the bar for another handful of butter-rum caramels, given that he wasn't old enough to drink.
Bar gave him another mug of rum-less grog for his trouble and he grinned, then blinked at Elizabeth, handing it over.

It was sort of a pinapple puree-and-lemonade slush, with a cherry garnish and a paper umbrella, "You look like you could use the vitamin c more than I do."

[try_corsets]

"Hmmm?" Elizabeth looks up from her quiet contemplation of the dirt on her sleeve and blinks at him. "Oh. Thank you."

She takes the drink hesitantly with a small smile.

"What is it?"

[goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com]

"Uhm." He scratched the back of his neck, "It's almost like grog, but not really. It's lemonade and pineapple and crushed ice. It's pretty good actually."

And hey, cold might help with the headache, maybe.

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth listens carefully, but nothing in that list gives her pause. Smile growing, she takes a sip and finds it quite pleasant.

"That was very generous of you," she says politely. "And you are?"

[goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com]

[slowtime is the best time ^^^]

He smiled, tipping his hat back slightly with a thumb as he dipped a greeting, "Clive. And you're quite welcome, those're all Bar's been giving me since I got here, had more than enough of them at this point."

[try_corsets]

The hat is hard to ignore, and Elizabeth doesn't even try, watching it move on Clive's head.

"I'm Elizabeth Swann," she offers. "Does it give you anything else if you ask?"