revivalproject | Listen to the wind blow

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Listen to the wind blow

Arrival

What should have been wood was now earth. Solid, and still, lacking the sway of the ship, and Edward frowned, blinking at it a moment. The sounds of the English and the struggle crew were gone, and looking to his right- so was Stede.

He'd arrived face down, hands tied behind his back, and still damp from the ocean, though in pushing awkwardly to his knees there was no ocean in sight, and his chest felt tighter still

His eyes scanned the unfamiliar space, looking up at the tall buildings in wonder before the orb caught his attention.

Once he'd spotted it the compulsion had him pushing stiffly to his feet, twisting to try and free his hands with a few annoyed grunts before opting to touch his forehead to the thing instead. All at once he was bombarded with information, in a sensation even more disorienting than all the rest of this.

He stumbled back with wide eyes, giving another violent twist against the rope, and aiming a defense kick towards the orb instead. "The fuck was that??!" he exclaimed, shaking his head and eying the thing warily like it might project more images into his mind if he didn't stare it down.

He held its gaze for a long silent moment before edging away, cursing under his breath.

And then of course he realized he'd been witnessed, features stiffening defensively, knowing he hadn't exactly shown off his most formidable side during that whole...display.

"...you got a knife, Mate?" he inquires hopefully, tilting his head.

Network- Video

[He doesn't seem to be aware he's broadcasting, the video starting abruptly and most consisting of dark blurry shapes as the device is turned about in his hand. Though he pauses to look at his reflection for a moment, scrunching his nose and making making a face. It wasn't quite as clear as a mirror, and Ed frowned, not sure what exactly this thing was.]

Strange bit of junk.

[He sets it aside, the view suddenly showing off the sky.]

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"Jesus-" Ed half flinched back, looking ready to kick the D.A.T.A. unit into the sun if it got much closer, but also morbidly curious about the thing.

"The fuck kind of bug is that??" he asked, nodding his head toward the scuttling thing, and offering it a challenging glare, nose briefly scrunching up.

Belatedly he seemed to process the strangers words, looking up at him abruptly with a frown. He didn't exactly have a lot to barter with. "Kind of lacking in funds at the moment, Man. ... A favor? I don't give them out often. It's worth more than some coin."

The thing peered back at him just as curiously, aperture narrowing and angle tilting a lot like the man who had carried it cocked his head as he stopped a safe arms-length away. He watched intently and wore a teasing smirk that didn't quite reach his cool blue stare, free hand on his hip.

"Development And Teaching Assistant," he corrected, and the 'bug' turned its camera up at him like he had said its name while he never took his gaze off of Ed.

Tony didn't see someone in particular distress--not hurt or having an existential crisis, just yet anyway. The tied wrists kept him cautious then, trying to calculate the most likely reason before he found out the hard way. What kind of favour was on offer might tell him a lot, and Tony hadn't even had to lead him very far to get the offer. Volatile, that was easy. "A favour," he was willing to explore, still not coming any closer, eyebrow raised to encourage this guy to reveal his wares.

Not sure what to make of the thing yet, Ed bent a little to peer at it, starting back as it turned its camera.

"Right, so...a bug," he concluded, not sure how exactly that title applied to the...whatever this was. Ed similarly was far more interested in it than he was in the other man just now, watching how it moved with a cautious curiosity.

"Yeah, right. Let's get cutting then," he encouraged, nodding back towards his wrists, half turning.

Volatile and impatient. Tony wouldn't know anything about that. The D.A.T.A. unit started to lift a curious leg as the new man bent toward it, while Tony's smirk widened to a fangy grin and he drew a small pair of bolt cutters from his belt only to hang back, rolling his shoulder further away from the indicated problem with the tool swinging seductively.

"I'm not hurting for favours. Look at me," he pointed out, chin raised with the confidence of someone who had people falling over themselves to do his jawline a favour. The nebulous concept of a favour didn't mean much, and certainly didn't tell Tony what to expect when this guy had his hands free. As far as he knew, the favour was a swift strangling. "What's on the table?" he pressed.

"..." Ed's expression darkened, and he slipped more firmly into Blackbeard, feeling a twinge of heat at his cheeks that made his frown deepen.

"How about I don't put my knife through your skull, mm?" he countered, not that he had a weapon to carry out that threat with. "...What do you want, Man?" he followed with an exasperated look to indicate he had nothing to offer here. "I'm at your disposal. Me. My crew. My...ship." None of which he knew where they were. If they were even here. "Most folks would kill to have a favour from Blackbeard."

It didn't make for a particularly effective threat when what this guy was in need of was a knife, and neither Tony nor D.A.T.A. spotted anything of the like on him, which they confirmed in response with wry glances toward each other. 'My crew, my ship', that was more like it, that was something. Still an absolutely terrible offer, because Tony could about guarantee this guy hadn't arrived with anything of the like, but something for Tony to enter into the equation.

"Blackbeard," was even more interesting, drawing Tony an inch closer, no longer holding the cutters aloft. That didn't exactly clarify if the guy meant a spaceship or a sailing ship, but it did tell Tony that he at least fancied himself a pirate. "Why didn't you say so?" Tony fawned, only to gesture limply toward the ropes, "Now I know you're like that for a reason."

Really??? Ed's head tilted, a small movement, but paired with that sudden sharp look in his eye it said a lot. His lips pursed, settling into a sort of pout as he tried to keep his cool, lifting a shoulder to help push his hair from his face.

"...heard of me, have you?" he asked cooly.

The game was yet unclear to Tony, making him narrow his eyes with an amused twist of his idle smirk. Invoking a feared pirate's name was supposed to be a threat, sure, that part was straightforward. It was a very ill-coded performance, though, between the outfit and the abundance of caution to protect this identity that left him quite unable to offer Tony anything more concrete than the idea of piratey things. More importantly, it wasn't telling Tony much about what it was intended to hide.

"Sure. My dad always hated your records," he tested, dropping some of the teasing in his posture and moving as though he would snip this Blackbeard free of his bindings, if he would hold still.

Records?...Stories? That was kind of a weird way of putting that, but it was the most logical conclusion he could come to, though his brow did crease a moment he we worked that out.

"Huh. Didn't think I'd been at this long enough to earn the the hate of more than one generation in a family. I really do need to think about retiring." Hell, he was getting old.

But he did hold still, apart from turning to present his wrists, keeping an eye over his shoulder.

That didn't reveal much beyond the wrinkle of confusion, mostly making Tony wonder if Blackbeard was going to play along with anything he said and just how long he could keep pressing. His tongue was thoughtfully between his teeth as he took his time at Blackbeard's back, watching as he was watched, then very attentively letting his gaze trip down the data offered on Blackbeard's heavily marked arm, counting the empty holsters, and raising his eyebrows at what leather did for a guy's ass. He probably didn't need to slide a finger into Blackbeard's palm to balance his hand for a swift cut that had the ropes falling away easily, and he was slow to draw it away, feeling for callouses and what tension he tripped.

"Good news and bad news," he reported. "Good news is, you kind of have to retire out here. Compulsory vacation. Bad news is the compulsory part. Negotiations thus far have been ineffective."

The feeling of being studied was unsettling, though it was one Edward was used to. He arched a brow at that lingering gaze, a certain teasing sparkle in his eye, but tensed at the unwanted touch.

There were plenty of callouses to find, hands worn and weathered by a life at sea. The skin was dry, with a faint trace of salt from his recent dip.

He gave a sort of half skip away once the rope was cut, turning on his heel to face the man and rub his wrists free of the ache.

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that," he dismissed, fairly confident if he applied the right sort of pressure he could convince them to change their minds. For the moment though his expression betrayed some concern as he tried to discreetly look about.

"No one else turn up recently with their hands bound?" he asked, trying to make it sound casual.

While Tony did appreciate the confidence, the energy in Blackbeard's step and that glint in his eye had Tony narrowing his watchful gaze, searching for the right angle to press him back and provoke him into a test run of his negotiating skills. He juggled the boltcutters idly in his free hand, tongue between his teeth with a hungry intent that was tempered by the flicker of concern he could see in Blackbeard. Of course he was concerned, he had just shown up, so goading him into an argument was...Tony took a breath. There were ways to be self destructive with less collateral damage.

"Ah--no, not as far as I know, that's a unique humiliation for you and you alone. Congratulations," he replied. "Everyone gets their own, I'm sure. I was naked. That probably means something."

He breathed a small huff, brows twisted before he nodded and tried to shrug off whatever concern he'd betrayed, giving a laugh that rang hollow as he couldn't quite mask the loss he was feeling. He really had grown soft, this never used to be such a struggle.

"Well, hell, you've done all right for yourself then, haven't you Mate?" he noted, gesturing pointedly to the now fully clothed man. Strange clothes. But clothes.

"Some people have called me industrious," Tony muttered. He had much stranger clothes in his wardrobe that suggested he was doing more than all right, and if Blackbeard started with the stabbing threats again, he might even see some of them. For now, Blackbeard looked more anxious than aggressive, and Tony watched him thoughtfully, trying to figure out how to fix that without acknowledging it. He didn't seem particularly assuaged by the passing suggestion that there were other people here, so he hadn't been stranded alone on an alien planet, but Tony tried again more directly; "We could ask them, if you want. There's usually a few people at the diner. Take a poll."

The strange orb had suggested that in some way or another with it's talk of heroes. Besides, there were few places Ed had found himself that weren't occupied, that part wasn't horribly alarming in the face of all there was to be alarmed about at least. But finding himself without Stede...without any of the crew. Not even the bloody English... it left an unpleasant feeling in his belly he couldn't entire blame on his breakfast.

"Mm?" he gave a briefly puzzled look, able to figure roughly the meaning through context, easier than record at least, and landing him far closer to the intended meaning. "...'Spose we could do that," he agreed casually, as though he didn't particularly care, pushing his hair back from his face.

"They have food at this...diner?" he asked, trying the word out.

It wasn't immediately clear if Blackbeard was just lost in his own head and wasn't actually paying attention, until he said 'diner' at Tony like it was a euphemism and Tony narrowed his eyes, glancing around for any hint as to what it might be a euphemism for. "Uh..." he considered, D.A.T.A. whirring at his feet as it spun its lens up at him curiously. "Usually," Tony had to press forward. Gathering his confidence again, he said lightly, "I can make you something," like that had ever gone well for him in the diner. With a gesture for Blackbeard to follow, then one at the D.A.T.A. unit to come along too, Tony started across the plaza only to stop suddenly and turn on his heel to then introduce, "Tony Stark," with an offer of his free hand.

The hell was he looking at? Ed tilted his head at Tony, as though he were the one acting strangely.

But at the promise of food (and the reminder of that strange little creature), he was quickly distracted again, moving to follow.

He stopped short when then man did, and unfolded his own hand to give him a firm shake. "Edward Teach," he offered in turn, though Tony all ready knew one of the names he went by, whether or not he believed it yet.

His gaze flicked upwards, distracted again by the height of the buildings. "So were these weird castles, or churches, or what?" he asked, hoping this Tony might have an answer if he's been here longer.

Tony did not know enough about pirates to know if that name sounded correct, and briefly lamented not being so invested in them as he had been knights and princesses. Typically, he would be immediately sending a text to Jon to check with the archive, and even had one mostly typed before scrapping it, pushing that instinct down to stop hassling Jon instead. That had him staring with intent at where he was stepping, and surprised by the question into giving a bewildered stare of his own up to follow Blackbeard's or Edward's line of sight.

"I hadn't really thought about it like that..." he admitted, stopping again to consider the structures more objectively. This was aliens they were dealing with, after all, and he had been making some broadly Terran assumptions about the places they were squatting in. Even with this consideration, he was pretty sure they had recognizably distinct usages. Hotel, hospital, greenhouse...room with the box in it. "I don't think they have churches," he eventually concluded from this brief consideration.

Now that was a strange thought.

Ed looked bewildered for a moment. No churches? He hadn't come across a place yet that was built up to this level and didn't have some God to worship who they claimed was better than their neighbors version of God.

It was difficult to imagine. Interesting as hell though...

"Fascinating," he murmured, blinking up at the buildings, "And no Kings either?" he asked, half joking, but curious, eyes flicking to Tony.

There hadn't been any evidence that Tony had found of any kind of authoritative structure, either religious or governmental, that was in any way familiar to him. It could have simply been too alien, and he wasn't looking at what evidence he had correctly, but thus far he could only spread his free hand to welcome Blackbeard to look for himself--there wasn't anyone here policing their behaviour.

"Not yet," he did suggest with a waggle of his eyebrows, then gestured for them to continue again. The diner wasn't far, and there would surely be more pressing questions there about just what the hell this was that they were supposed to be putting in their mouths.

"Ahhh-" Edward's lips curled, and he gave a pleased grumble of a sound, adding that to the long list of things to puzzle over on his own later.

He quickened his pace to walk beside the other man, though his eyes continued to seep about as they approached the building. It would probably be a while before he lost that curious look.

There was more to marvel at once they were inside, the layout familiar enough, but the styles, materials and most everything else was things he'd never imagined before.

"...it's so clean," he noted in surprise.

The diner was a miraculously well kept space, compared to the apocalyptic state of the rest of the city, so again Blackbeard's comment had Tony slowing his step briefly for this newfound appreciation. "It was one of the first places they restored, I'm pretty sure," he mused. They couldn't linger here too long, though; they weren't alone, as promised, and Tony ducked his head and pushed his sunglasses up his nose to sweep them through the dining room, not even slowing down to dump the broken camera he had been carrying onto an empty table before passing through to the kitchen. "There's almost always someone here, taking care of the place and that's, uh--Don't get too comfortable. Most everywhere else, watch where you're stepping," he continued. "Reeve's got the power working, but no one's taken a complete survey of the damage, and the storms...Any one of these places could be a tickle away from falling over."

"Yeah, yeah, I've got it," Blackbeard muttered dismissively, peering around and prodding at every little thing before his mind caught up with Tony's words. The power working...what did that mean?

And it was surprisingly bright back here, the strangely placed lamps(???) (how had they done that exactly?) glowing even and strong.

"Lota fuss over a few storms if you ask me."

"Bit of rain never hurt anyone," Tony agreed, his voice dropping into a sardonic purr, not sure what part of the storms that he had to convey to Blackbeard to convince him to be on his guard. It could be that he had come equipped with just what they needed to finally actually deal with them; a space pirate might already know how to deal with mindfuck weather incidents and sail them smoothly. Instead, Tony suggested, "Tell you what, we make a deal that you trust the warnings when the first one hits, get to cover, batten down the hatches, whatever it is we might be able to accomplish if we're not taken by surprise, and then we can reassess how you feel about them going forward."

Yeah, yeah. He had a point. Ed'd obviously been through his share of bad storms out at sea. But at least it tended to liven things up a bit.

He was a little less curious to see what death was like now that Stede was around though, and wanting to get back to him in more or less one piece he gave nod.

"I suppose I can do that," he allowed with a small smirk, plucking things at random from the space to examine with a curious frown.

"You don't have any marmalade, do you?"

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in_extremis - 2022-06-30 23:49 (UTC) - Expand

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