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

No, it's not. [Not to a not-pirate, anyway. For all he knows, with him here someone like Cutler Beckett could turn up, and having that knowledge within his grasp is not what you'd call pretty.

Next drink, down the hatch. Though, honestly, he's a little disappointed. For as bad as it is, it's certainly not doing its job properly.

~~The joys of having a high alcohol tolerance.~~]

Nay. Was a merchant marine first. An honest sailor. [His mouth quirks just a bit.] Realized there be a lot more money in it for a man not unwilling to get his hands dirty.

[Kunsel can't boast the same tolerance; the whiskey is already catching up with him.]

[Topping up Barbossa's glass, he sets the bottle back down.]

Always been a SOLDIER, myself. I don't know if it's really honest work, though. People pretend it is...but what's honest about following orders that land whole nations under the heel of a mega conglomerate? [He downs the contents of his glass and sets it down heavily.] I've thought about leaving, but you don't really leave Shinra, you know?

[Instead, you get written off as K.I.A. and hunted down by infantrymen or worse. And the whole thing gets covered up in the end, people moving on like you never existed, the only ones who know any better being the ones who care enough to dig through all the filthy lies. Yeah. He knows a little about getting his hands dirty.]

Anyway, I can do more from the inside. Though if I ever got a chance to jump the company ship and go sailing, I might be tempted...

[All of that? Means absolutely nothing to him, but he can see the meaning withing the meaning. Or at least the gist of it.

He picks up his glass, and pauses, squinting at Kunsel.]

Well, it's the same as any supposed honest work, if you're not working for yourself, aye? Nay, had me fill of that, signed onto me first pirate ship in me early twenties. Never looked back. Me mum is no doubt rolling in her grave but...Well, it's a better living than I'd have otherwise.

Yeah...that makes sense. Can't say we've got much for pirates where I'm from, though...so that's out.

[He lifts his glass, holding it up as if to cheers.]

Probably for the best in my case, anyway. I'm just not sure I could pull off a beard and pirate attire. Well, except the hat. I think I'd look pretty awesome in a pirate hat.

[As if that's anything to cheers to, he tosses back his drink and sighs heavily.]

So...what finally pushed you into this profession? You had to have known there was money in it all along, I mean...it's piracy. It kind of speaks for itself. At least in some cases. Anyway...what was the final straw?

[Bless him. That question is so naive and adorable, really, that he can't help but chuckle. What makes a man turn to piracy is the money, but there's a lot a man gives up when he does it.

But he considers it a moment, to find a way to put into a less...Personal perspective.]

Me family was poor. No surprise, I'm sure. Most are. I thought I could make a living not going that path. [He pauses, downing his own drink.] You have to let go of a few morals, becoming a pirate. Even if you don't do certain things, and won't, you have to turn a blind eye. At first, at any rate.

You didn't think of doing it for your family? Just yourself?

[He leans on the edge of the table, head on one hand, the tip of his smallest finger picking along the edge of his visor.]

S'kinda cold. But I guess some men're made for that kinda life.

[Not Kunsel, though. Nope! Turning pirate would mean letting go of more morals than he'd had to let go of when joining SOLDIER, and as for turning a blind eye...well, he never did that. Not unless it was for Zack, in any case.]

How d'ya live with it? You've probably seen a lot of ugly stuff, am I right? Doesn't any of it bother you?

Catholic family, mate. A big one. It truly were every man for himself. I made it easier, leaving home when I did. One less mouth to feed.

[And it's obvious he doesn't feel the slightest bit of guilt over it. He barely remembers most of them, and well...Too many years and water under the bridge. He wouldn't step foot again in Bristol for all the swag on the sea.]

You live with it. And pat yourself on the back for being the better man. There's no room for squeamish stomachs and soft hearts there. You can either learn to ignore it, or you can find another profession.

[Hold the boat!]

...What's cathlick exactly?

[He almost thinks he heard calf-lick, but he's certain Barbossa didn't use an 'f' in there...or so he's hoping.]

Catholic. The...Holy Roman Church, aye? All that nonsense of popes and confession and all that rot.

[It's painfully obvious he's not a religious man.]

Me mum was Irish. Me da weren't, but me mum drug us to Mass any chance she could.

[Kunsel makes a face. That can only half be seen due to his helmet's visor, but his lips are pressed together in a fine line as though...he's still not quite sure what he's hearing.]

[Oh, sure, church makes sense. He connects that with religion and worship easily enough, except...nobody really practices any kind of belief like that in Midgar. There's a church, but it's rundown, the only frequent goer being a flower girl.]

[So this nonsense about a pope, or multiple popes, and confession, is really just nonsense to him, too.]

[And as for whatever 'irish' is (pirate slang for irritable? no, not likely if it's being used in correspondence with religious matter), he doesn't know that either. Or Mass. He thinks he heard Mass. Could have been mast, but his mother wasn't a pirate...]

...uh huh. Big family. Gotcha.

[You need another drink, Barbs? Because Kunsel's topping up his as he nods, then holding the bottle out for you.]

So...what do pirates believe in? Besides coin, I mean.

[Different wheres and whens. It's hard, and yet oh so easy, to keep that in the forefront of his mind, mostly.

He takes the bottle, giving it a little shake.] Nothing, mate. That's the only reason we're in it. Aye, there be some that love the life, and it offers a...Distinct sense of freedom, when you realize you owe no one anything but yourself.

But we've no time for gods or higher ideals. Not really. We look after our own well enough, the rest of the world can take care of itself.

[He fills his glass again, realizing...Perhaps Calypso had given his liver a little tender love and care while bringing him back from the dead. He's had a high alcohol tolerance for years before the curse, but he'd wrecked it after the Cobra sank. But now...Well, he felt fine and dandy, didn't he?]

[Kunsel is less impressed with Barbossa's liver because his own isn't holding up as well as he'd boasted it would be able to do.]

Yeah, I can see how that'd be freeing...and lonely. No one t' really miss you if you're gone an' such.

[He gestures for the bottle back even though he's probably had more than enough by now, and the bottle's probably on its last legs, if Barbossa didn't drain it.]

So, no time. What's a pirate do all day, then?

Well, if you're worried about being remembered, there are quite a few professions that seem lonely.

[But Kunsel shouldn't feel too bad. It takes years and a new liver to reach the levels of tolerance Hector possesses.

And rest assured his morning won't be bright and chipper, either.]

There's always work to be done. Holes to caulk, sails to mend, decks to clean. Captains are on the job no matter the time or place, you understand, and we have to be aware of everything, at all times. It's not nearly the carefree life so many seem to think it be.

Not worried. I just think...what's a life without at least one person who'll miss you if you're gone, y'know?

[For him, that person is Zack. And for Zack...well, it was a lot of people, but that's what made Kunsel's friend such a hero in the first place. It was like he'd always told Zack...]

[The media chooses the heroes. And the media may as well be the mouth of the public.]

Put like that it doesn't sound s'bad. I like keepin' busy. Too bad you don't actually got a ship here.

[Thanks for not passing the bottle back, Barbs. Kunsel retracts his hand and scrubs his face. It's getting that slowly...sloshy numb...feeling. And his fingers feel thick and warm and his legs fuzzy. Probably he's had enough to drink.]

[Probably.]

[...but he's waving his hand a second later for another bottle between them, anyway.]

[And it's kind of funny, because in Barbossa's little niche in his own world, no one is really close to anyone else. Honestly, the closest thing he has to 'friends' would be Pintel and Ragetti, and they're subordinates. Depressing to think about, which is why he never bothers. Especially now, with that whole second chance at life thing.

And honestly, he wonders if it's time to cut Kunsel off. He hopes, deeply and earnestly, that he's not the sort to be a weepy drunk. He hates weepy drunks.]

No, mate. I'm glad she's not here. True, she's still in the Locker and there's that whole messy business of getting her out. With Jack Sparrow, unfortunately, but...I'd not see her confined here. That's not how she's mean to be.

[Sadly, it sounds more like he's talking about a woman, than a ship.]

[He's not a weepy drunk, for crying out loud! He's just...thoughtful. Which happens to be hard to maintain the longer Barbossa talks about his ship like it's a lady. So hard, in fact, that Kunsel is unable to keep from chuckling. A lot. But mostly, Barbossa, he was asking because, if you need a friend, he's happy to supply himself as one. And he thinks you do, need one, that is, which is why...well, he's probably going to bother you more often. Once tomorrow morning's hangover subsides, that is.]

Ah-ah... [Kunsel wags a finger at the pirate.] I said a ship, not your ship.

[And that's where Kunsel doesn't get it, and Hector shakes his head in response to that thought. He doesn't get it, because he doesn't live it. Try as he might to be 'friends' (and really, that is an absolutely terrible idea all the way around, and Hector will swear up and down not only does he miss no one from home, he's certainly not interested in meeting and greeting here), there is a massive misunderstanding, really, of what his ship really is.]

Nay, mate. Wouldn't want just any ship. They're not all equal, and none can match the Pearl for speed. [As he's proven a time or two in that ten year cursed run.]

[Now, now. Put like that, he understands a little better.]

Like Zack and his sword...sorta.

[After all, a SOLDIER couldn't be too picky about his weapons, but the Buster Sword was important to him, as it had been to Angeal, and for Zack, because it had been important to Angeal.]

I think I get it. As much as I can.

Too, it be like an unfamiliar blade. [This, at least, is probably an analogy that will make it clear as glass. He leans back in his seat, folding his arms.]

Unbalanced for your own hand, untrustworthy. Ship be much the same, when she's new to you. A dangerous thing, that. But I know the Pearl's every spar, ever line, every nook and cranny. And it'd be her I'd want. Just not here where she's caged.

The important difference being...it'd be more acceptable to have a familiar sword in this place than an unfamiliar one.

[A ship, Kunsel thinks, is a lot more like a home, and he wouldn't want his home here in Wonderland, either. Not without some measure of control over the place, and since that isn't happening...home can stay back in Gaia.]

Don't ya miss the sea, though? I mean...how much time d'ya actually spend on land where you're from?

[Speaking of wet things...he suddenly remembers that he tried flagging down the hostess for a new bottle, but she hasn't returned. :(]

This be the longest I've been ashore for...Years. [And it's obvious from his tone it's not something he's comfortable with. And he's not. He'd much rather be at sea, as he's supposed to be, anyway, rounding up those idiots that make up the Brethren Court, and not sitting here like this is the Faithful Bride and they've taken a bit of shore leave.

Unfinished business with no plan to resolve it makes him antsy.]

But it wouldn't be the same here, mate. I can see the sea, but I don't want to sail her. She's just a sea, I'm sure, but...Feels all wrong. Like those calm hours before a storm blows in.

[...One of these days, Barbossa, you might wake up to a bucket of seawater being splashed on you. Kunsel, of course, will be scarce afterwards, because he values his life even if he takes risks with it.]

That long, huh? Land can get...kinda monotonous. S'one thing I liked 'bout the missions back home. Helicopter lifts. Bein' up in the air an' such. Ever been? The view...

[Ah, he's grinning. Gaia's beautiful from above, if you're not staring in the direction of Midgar, anyway. That city...looks kinda like a great big, black scorch mark upon the earth.]

[A second later he nods, or rather, his chin slides off his hand and he gives a bit of a start.]

...Y'know, I didn't think of it like that. Looked more comforting to me when I arrived. S'the only side we're not pinned in from, well...not exactly. The only open side. It's unobstac...unobstruck...ted. Oh, hell, it's too warm in here. Can't think.

Alright there, mate? [Poor kid, but he'd said he could keep up, hadn't he? But Hector can't help but be amused, whether it's the whiskey in his system or the stupidity of youth before him doesn't matter.

Kids, honestly.]

The word you're looking for is unobstructed. But nay, it's not a sea. Not a real one, and if it is, well, it doesn't matter. We've got naught but dinghies and there be monsters off the edge of the map, and here we sit. No guns.

I know what I meant...

[Kunsel scrubs a hand under his visor and over his face before leaning back in his seat.]

Startin' t'think I drank a bit fast, s'all. [As in maybe he's had enough, but he's not entirely willing to come out and say that in so many words. Better to focus on the other subject at hand.] I heard 'bout that. That there's somethin' out there. Y'see it? Or jus' hear about it?

[Sitting up is fast becoming a chore, so he slides down in his seat a little more and leans his head against the back. He can watch the pirate better from beneath his visor this way.]

[Ah...but it sure does make his eyes feel heavy...]

ship log 003 [video/action for the kitchen]

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