(no subject)

[try_corsets]

A few days ago Bar was reminded of an argument and that, while she clearly has a fondness for pirates, the exception to the rule is one Captain Elizabeth Turner. Therefore, when said Captain Turner arrives, turns a haughty eye on a wait rat and approaches Bar with her mind on a hot meal, there's no question who will be pressed into service tonight.

The first note on a napkin informs Elizabeth of this. "I think not," is her reply.

Another napkin replaces the first. Elizabeth's affronted, annoyed expression becomes a cold little smile. "Actually, I think you'll find through further study that I was not to blame."

A flurry of napkins explodes from Bar, a few making it high enough to flick Elizabeth's face. Some are covered in writing; others display very expressive stick figures. The images of Jack are especially detailed. Elizabeth is quick to ascertain the nature of the information thus displayed and gathers up the napkins, angrily stuffing them down her black sleeve.

"Very well, I'll do it. And I'll have a barrel of rum for my crew when I'm finished," she informs the beastly piece of furniture.

Bar produces one last napkin that says We have an accord and helpfully supplies Eddie's drink book. Ignoring both, Elizabeth purses her lips and writes the following on the board:

Tonight's Special

RUM

She dusts the chalk off her hands and turns to face the room, head held high, looking as if she had meant to be there all along. What can the pirate surreptitiously shredding napkins into the trash get you, Milliways?

[Tiny piratical tags: Jane Austen, Arnold, Dinah Lance]

Comments

[heyfootballhead.livejournal.com]

There's a pirate at the bar, serving rum.

That's kind of funny.

Arnold hops onto a stool and beams up at Elizabeth. "Is the bar having a theme tonight?"

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth doesn't find it particularly funny. There's a certain curiosity, of course, but her fingers are getting tired of ripping napkins into tiny pieces.

"Yes," she answers, eyes still on her task. "Extortion, blackmail..."

Glancing up, she trails off and blinks at him.

[heyfootballhead.livejournal.com]

With a head shaped like a football and only four fingers to each hand, he's a bit of an oddity.

"I would just call the whole thing pirate night," Arnold says helpfully.

Extortion and blackmail are pirate-y things, right?

[try_corsets]

He is, at that. Having some experience with weird and fantastical things helps keep Elizabeth's expression even, however.

"You may if you wish," she tells him. "Is it required to call it something other than happy hour?"

Because she certainly has no intention of asking Bar.

[nothawkingbird.livejournal.com]

Kate stopped by the bar, her bow and arrows slung on her back from practice.
She eyed the sign curiously.

"Pirate special night?" She wondered.

[try_corsets]

"I am a pirate, if that's what you mean."

Someone has yet to warm up to her role for the evening. There's a flicker of interest in the bow and arrows, however.

[nothawkingbird.livejournal.com]

Kate grinned at that, "Nice to see that whole pirate wench part's not completely true then. And sure, but also meant the special on the sign."

She added, "I'm Kate by the way, Kate Bishop." She set her bow down at her side so she could offer her hand.

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth cracks an almost smile and says, "I hear sailors of all sorts enjoy their rum."

She doesn't mean to be difficult. Oh, wait. She does.

"Captain Elizabeth Turner," is offered in return, and she gives Kate's hand a firm shake.

[janebecomes]

Jane simply stops and looks at the Bar with Elizabeth behind it, her manuscript almost forgotten in her hand,

"Why rum?"

(OOC: Kind of place holderish until I finish dinner.)

[try_corsets]

"Why not?" Elizabeth fires back.

The last of the napkins meets a grim end and Jane suddenly has Elizabeth's full attention.

[janebecomes]

The end of the napkin is eyed warily as Jane holds her writing protectively,

"I'm not sure. Is not that more a drink mainly preferred by sailors?"

[try_corsets]

As she does so, Elizabeth's eyes drift over the manuscript. Whatever it is, it's clearly of value to the woman. That makes it interesting.

"Yes, my crew does seem partial to it," she says mildly. "Would you like a taste?"

[goauld_theif]

A woman in a black leather outfit with a corset sits at a stool. She looked rather happy, as she looked at the chalk board.

She pursed her lips, being an alien she'd never tasted rum, she'd only seen it on the lots of Tari Television she'd watched.

"Are you tending the bar tonight?" she asked the girl behind the bar in her strangely English accent.

[try_corsets]

"So it would seem," Elizabeth answers, plastering a mild smile on her face. "What would you like?"

In no way is her annoyance directed at her latest customer, even if she has to remind herself of that fact.

[goauld_theif]

"Well, I would like to try this rum," said Vala, "I keep seeing it on Television, usually in Pirate movies."

The smile never wavers. She is a very good con-artist this one. And a space pirate.

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth blinks, just once.

"Pirate movies?"

She fetches a glass, pours three fingers of rum from the bottle she already has at hand and slides the glass across the bar.

[evil_koala_626]

Stitch, as has been noted on previous occasions, is something of a fan of the piratical lifestyle. On the other hand, life in the Pelekai residence has conditioned him for one response upon seeing irate young females in their late teens/early twenties glowering out at a room for no discernible reason; sidle away.

The alien executes an about face and begins scuttling away from the bar.

[try_corsets]

The last thing Will had told Elizabeth on the beach was to keep a weather eye open. She does, although there's no hope she'll see him in their world for many years to come. Day after day, Captain Turner can be found on the back of the Empress, staring out to sea.

She's become very good at noticing the smallest of movements, the slightest of variations on the horizon.

When a small blue shape scuttles through her peripheral vision, she immediately turns her head.

"Stitch. Where are you going?"

At least she doesn't sound like she's looking for an easy target?

[evil_koala_626]

Deer in the headlights have nothing on Stitch. His eyes are much larger.

"Ah heh-Hiiiiiiiiiii." Grin?


Which does not answer her question. Maybe she'll buy it if he pretends to have only just noticed her.

[raptorcanaria]

Dinah dumps the wig on the bar unceremoniously as she comes in, and soon there's the heel of her boot joining it, her foot still inside. It was an interesting night, and she needs to stretch out.

She smirks when she sees the specials board.

"I'll have rum, then."

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth eyes the wig, the foot and then Dinah, in that order.

"A wise choice," she remarks, moving stiffly to where she'd left the bottle, reaching for a glass along the way.

Really, it is. She has next to no experience with mixed drinks.

[raptorcanaria]

hen on the way between the foot and the girl, Elizabeth will get an eyeful of fishnet clad leg. Dinah hardly even notices.

She sits on the barstool instead, leaning on the bar next to the wig.

"I haven't seen you tend bar before."

[bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com]

"Now, this here is a sight I ne'er thought I would see with me eyes. A King serving rum to a humble sailing man such as meself."

The voice drips with honey. And poison. And gravel, all at equal shares. The man under the very impressive feathered hat shoots Elizabeth a very amused look from beneath the wide brim.

"How are Singaporean politics going, Captain Turner?"

Fancy that, Barbossa hiding a barb within a polite way to address her.

(( OOC: If it's too late to tag in, feel free to tell me so and ignore this tag. RL has been horrible the last couple weeks. ))

[try_corsets]

Yes, fancy that.

"Volatile," Elizabeth responds, watching his approach without turning her head.

She hasn't been to Singapore.

"I've served you nothing. I believe it is customary for you to first request your preferred libation."

[OOC: Definitely not too late, so long as you don't mind slowtime!]

[bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com]

"Well, that shouldn't come as a surprise, seeing how much the heathens like powder of all kinds."

Barbossa sits with exaggerated care on one of the stools, looking up at Elizabeth's face with an inscrutable little smirk.

"And I believe my mention of rum would have been picked up by a skilled tender. As it is, I will state it again in simpler terms, Your Majesty. Rum, if you please. And an apple, maybe?"

(OOC: Are you kidding? Slowtimes is the only way I can play these days. Yay RL!)