entranceway | ship log 003 [video/action for the kitchen]

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ship log 003 [video/action for the kitchen]

[So, uh. This cooking thing.

But do you see that? The view's a little shaky at first, because he's still getting the hang of this technology thing, but there, for your viewing delight, Wonderland, is a microwave.

Well.

It used to be a microwave.

What it is now is more a column of smoke and melted plastic and burnt things, with the coppery shine of burnt tinfoil.

Oh, and the door's off to one side, and it shouldn't be twisted like that.

And yes, he actually read the instructions. And no, they didn't make a damn bit of sense.]

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm fairly sure that's not what it's supposed to do when it's done.

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Now that, I am sure, is a challenge I have no fear of losing.

You think just because you're a pyrate you've
got the advantage?

[Yes, Kunsel, that is how it works. Pirates are allowed to drink on the job, encouraged to. You're not, you dolt.]

Then, if you're not afraid of losing, I'll
meet you at the bar in ten minutes. Be there
or I'll assume you don't have the stomach
after all.

[Not only encouraged, kid. Required, since even the drinking water's mixed with booze.

But that's completely not even remotely the point. Challenging a pirate to a drinking...Well, not exactly a contest, but challenging a pirate with anything that relates to drinking, especially one that's already wrecked his liver with it, is probably one of the dumber things Kunsel can do.

But that's all fine and dandy, as Barbossa finds this 'bar' (though in his mind hole-in-wall-tavern is suitable enough), surprising though it is to see it here. And he goes inside, admitting it is...Nothing like the places he's used to. At all. But that's fine, because while it's nothing like, say...The Faithful Bride, he's fairly sure the purpose of a bar and a tavern are one and the same.]

[It's only dumb if Kunsel doesn't quit before getting wrecked. After all, it's not like he called Barbossa out to drink just for the hell of drinking...]

[Now, whether his SOLDIER pride allows him to quit early or not is another story.]

[Once he spots Barbossa entering the bar (and the man stands out, let's be honest) Kunsel rises from the table he's at and waves a hand to grab his attention. There's a few things he wants to ask the pirate (pyrate) about, namely the Codex, but also about the man himself, and while he's got his questions ready, he'll wait to lay into Barbossa until they've at least had their first drink.]

[And only that long, because Kunsel gets the impression the pirate isn't a man who'll appreciate having his time wasted.]

Over here!

[And that's the moment that Hector realizes...This kid is way too overenthusiastic, and a blow to his pride would have been the wiser choice. But he's here now, so there's no slinking out of it. Not if he wants to save any face at all.

(Which, honestly, shouldn't be a bother to him in this place, but he's had just about enough of the pirate comments to begin with.)

So with a little internal sigh, he makes his way over somewhat reluctantly, though his irritation is fairly-well masked.]

Aye, we can see that. No need to carry on as such.

Who's carrying on?

[Genuine question, man.]

We were conversing across text before, so I wasn't really sure you'd know who to look for. Better to grab your attention than let you stand there looking lost, right?

[He was doing you a favor.]

[All of this junk is new to him. Cut him some slack. But his eyes still narrow, though he says nothing for a moment, because really, Kunsel actually is doing him a favor.

He promised himself he wouldn't be that sad sod that drinks all alone, all the time. Not again, at any rate.]

Funny. For everyone else, pirate seems to cover the appearance just fine. [Which still bothers him to no end.] Though I can't say I'd have known what to look for to begin with.

Well, recognizing you wasn't a problem with the whole kitchen debacle being on video, but...you never got a look at me, so I wasn't sure you really knew what or who to look for.

[Kunsel shrugs and takes his seat, gesturing for Barbossa to join him.]

Hence the waving. I suppose I could have been more subtle about it, though.

[He does sit at least, though it's not without a show of disgruntlement.] I forget you can see over those bloody thing. [Even if it was intentional. That time. It's not something he really...Thinks about.]

And aye. Used to places a little rougher'n this one, where that kind of thing will get a man shot. Or worse.

Sometimes I do, too. [No, he doesn't.] I use the text function so often, that I rarely think about the other ones.

[He leans back.]

Roughed up, shot or worse, just for saying hello. So then, is it a relief to find yourself someplace different, or do you find yourself missing that kind of establishment?

Honestly? [Not that you can ever trust a dishonest man to be honest, except honestly, Hector isn't dishonest. Most of the time, honestly.] I'd rather be in Tortuga. There's a tavern there, the Faithful Bride. Rough place but...Well, they treat me own kind as nicely as ye could ask.

[He almost goes on to warn Kunsel to never touch the whores there, because Jack, no doubt, has been through every one of them, but he stops himself before the words are out, because really. When is Kunsel ever going to find himself in the Faithful Bride?]

All the way around, I'd rather be there than here. This is all...A bit too much, ye understand.

I think I do. Not to be presumptuous, but I can imagine what kind of culture shock you're going through. This place is even a little odd for me.

[A waitress comes by to take their drinks, and Kunsel orders some whiskey.]

Guess I didn't really frequent places like this, either. There was a little dive near a place called the Honey Bee Inn in Wall Market, back home. That's where I spent a lot of my time when I wasn't working.

[He doesn't mention, of course, that it's been ten- No. Eleven years since he's set foot on Tortuga. It's not important, and besides, none of the kid's business.]

I don't believe it's so much a...Culture shock, no. Not so much that. [Despite the issue with the microwhatsit. That was just plain misunderstanding and dumb luck.] More me own irritation at being here to begin with. I'm supposed to be finding a ship bound for Singapore. Important, that.

[He glances down at the table and taps one long nail against its surface.] But since I have nary a choice in it, all I can do is wait it out. [And is that ever loaded with some bitterness.]

If you're irritated about that, you might be irritated a long time. I mean, if it's true that there's no controllable way for us to leave this place, it seems to me like the better course of action would be to...not get too hung up on what you're supposed to be doing.

I've got a job. I'm looking to hear back from someone back home. [Someone he hasn't seen in four years. Someone he just learned here is...not coming home.] Most of us have a life we've left behind, whether it's a whole lot of one or nothing much. But you focus on that and you're gonna miss stuff here, maybe stuff you can bring back with you. And even if you can't, well, working toward something is better than being miserable, isn't it?

[He pauses, realizing he's kind of carried on. Rubbing the back of his neck, Kunsel looks down, the visor of his helmet doing a swell job of hiding his embarrassment...apart from body language doing a better job of giving it all away.]

Ah...sorry, man. I kind of ramble sometimes.

It might be in the nature of some to count their loses and move on. Not mine. [For proof, if Jack Sparrow were here (and thank the heavens he's not) he could be asked for proof of that. Jack knows why he was mutinied. Just like Hector knows why Jack hunted him down and shot him, though it took him ten years.

But he leans back in his seat, an eyebrow twitching at the show of embarrassment. And his tone isn't necessarily unkind, but it is blunt.]

I'm afraid there's little I'd wish to be taking back from this place. Aye, I know most of us got yanked up in the middle of something. And it concerned others than ourselves. That seems to be the only commonality any of us share, mate. But I've got me debts to pay, and I'd see it done before it lingers too long.

Who said anything about moving on? I don't intend to. You...could say I've got debts, too. In a manner of speaking. I'd like to get back to that before long, also. But what if something I learn here can be brought with me when I return? What if that knowledge helps me in the long run?

[He makes a dismissive gesture and leans his hand into his chin as the drinks are brought.]

Maybe it's wishful thinking...it's not like we were brought here for our own convenience. I just...can't stand the thought of being here and it amounting to nothing more than...

[Well, not wasted time. No time with his friends was wasted. But if he can't learn anything of value, then what's the point of going back? He's lost everything there besides an opportunity to take Shinra down a peg for everything they did.]

[Kunsel sighs, takes up his drink and nods to Hector.]

Anyway, we've got this in common, too. Bottom's up?

[Bottom's up indeed, as this conversation is entirely too serious and too personal for Hector's liking. Getting into the deeper meanings of why they're here and what they can possibly hope to accomplish is not on his agenda.

At least not yet. Nor is being a team player, necessarily, given the quality of people he's found here. Especially those that believe the future should be the standard for everyone.

But he takes his drink. Downs it. And pulls a face.]

Ye gods, man, what is this, rotgut? Honestly. [Is this future booze? Because future booze is awful.

But it's still booze.]

[That's what bottom's up means, and so Kunsel downs his own, exhaling heavily after the fact and chuckling at Barbossa's reaction.]

Come on, it's not that bad.

Edited (gosh darn html) 2013-07-16 14:18 (UTC)

Aye, it is that bad. [Not that...It being bad is a deterrent, you understand. Not at all.] I'm beginning to think everything got worse in between me own doings and now. And honestly, it's hard to make whiskey taste worse than that you'll find ringing the Spanish Main.

I feel like you're insulting my tastes.

[But it's said with a laugh and a roll of his shoulders, a plain indicator that Kunsel is unfazed.]

More? I can order a round, or would you prefer something other than whiskey?

[He's pretty certain if the answer is yes it'll be rum, but whatever the case, once they've got a round, he'll start with the questions.]

Nay, bring us another round then. [Because as horrible as it is, he's had worse.]

I'm sure it gets better after the first one, though if that's what you're calling whiskey these days, I feel for you, mate. I honestly do.

Another round it is.

[Kunsel waves the hostess over once more and puts in the order. He's not entirely convinced he'll be able to keep up, of course, but he'll put forth a valiant enough effort nonetheless.]

You're telling me it tastes better where you're from? What's the difference?

[Bless him. Trying to keep up with a pirate with a fresh, new liver from resurrection and the ability to go the distance is...Well, definitely dumb.]

To be honest, mate, everything is better. Here everything is very... [He waves a hand, looking for the right word.] Artificial. And apparently too clean. I can't say as the food has agreed with me.

[Seriously, when apples are all you can keep down, there is something wrong.]

[It's brave, thank you very much.]

Alright, artificial I can understand. Mass production is a big thing in the future, and believe me, it's worse where I'm from than here in Wonderland. Count yourself lucky. But...what do you mean too clean?

[Side-eying you, Barbs, because cleanliness and all that.]

[Dumb.]

Everything in its own little packet? Anti- [What's the word.] Bacterial? I believe it's called? [It's pronounced a little oddly, since that word doesn't exist for him at all.]

I'm not a sawbones, mate, couldn't tell you what it be exactly. But nothing sits right.

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