[It definitely has made for a rough voyage. Oh, not the storm, as such. Storms happen. It sucks and he's already calculating the cost to repair everything, unhappy just thinking of the cut that's going to be in their funds, but that's for the Captain to worry over.
No, it's the whispers of something in the water. Superstitions. Ghost stories.
Give him a break.
The important thing here is they made it through the storm, to land. Edward scarcely has a moment to catch his breath, before he's sent off to check the damage. He wants to complain that it's not his job, as the navigator, and he SHOULD be working to get them on the right track, but
this is clearly not up for debate.
With some grumbling, he moves to check how the ship's doing. Both exterior and down below deck.]
[It certainly is damaged, and the repairs will cost them out of their cut for certain. But the good news is that they should be docking by that afternoon, so the repairs can be made soon enough, and hopefully they can be on their way again soon.
In the mean time, though, he might be urged into doing some minor repairs himself with the carpenter, before being let off the ship in Tortuga with his (reduced) pay.]
[there are some nice things to eat, sure. But there's also crushing crowds. But you know where you can get a break from that?? There sure is a side street down this way that isn't so crowded at this time of day.
[there's a rough voice from the side of the wall near a shadowed overhang of the alley--and peering closer might afford Edward a look of who's crouched on the ground nearby.]
[there's a figure, there, dressed in dirty rags, hair matted, eye covered by a dark eye patch. Just...sitting there. They chuckle, tilting their head up to look at him]
"Aren't you interesting, then. Bit of a spark about ye, ain't there."
"Considering it is usually unseeable to most..." [they gesture, one hand moving towards the entrance to the alley, where everyone else seems to be just passing it by, not sparing it another glance]
[there's a rough laugh] "Oh, no, I don't peddle in miracles, lad. It's not jest goin' t' magically happen. Rather...I nudge destiny in the direction yer lookin' for. Convince the fates to turn your path into the right one.
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No, it's the whispers of something in the water. Superstitions. Ghost stories.
Give him a break.
The important thing here is they made it through the storm, to land. Edward scarcely has a moment to catch his breath, before he's sent off to check the damage. He wants to complain that it's not his job, as the navigator, and he SHOULD be working to get them on the right track, but
this is clearly not up for debate.
With some grumbling, he moves to check how the ship's doing. Both exterior and down below deck.]
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In the mean time, though, he might be urged into doing some minor repairs himself with the carpenter, before being let off the ship in Tortuga with his (reduced) pay.]
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He just takes what money he does have and leaves the ship. Of course, he doesn't intend to spend much. He's saving up.
...Doesn't hurt to look around, though. Explore the place.
Maybe eat something nice, for once.]
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Maybe it'll behoove you to dart down it.]
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Too busy here. Ugh.]
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[there's a rough voice from the side of the wall near a shadowed overhang of the alley--and peering closer might afford Edward a look of who's crouched on the ground nearby.]
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...No wells, I'm afraid. So if you're thirsty, you're out of luck.
[whomst]
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"Aren't you interesting, then. Bit of a spark about ye, ain't there."
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Okay.]
If that's what you want to call it. [. . .] I didn't realize the alleys here were so busy.
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"Aye, many of them are. But there shouldn't be anyone in here but me. So I suppose that makes ye somethin' special, don' it."
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My apologies. I didn't see your name on it before I went in.
Nor do I know your name to recognize on there, so.
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"So...what do ye want?"
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[what kind of question is that?]
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...And... how exactly would you do that? Or would that be telling?
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"It'd be tellin'. Dontcha know not to look a gift horse in the mouth, boy?"
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...Also, not to believe everything people say.
[sorry bud you've got a skeptic.......]
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Excuse me?
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"I said, I should've pegged ye for a skeptic, Edward Nashton. Despite yer aspirations of glory, yer more cautious than most, ain'tcha?"
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the FUCK]
And how exactly do you know my name?
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"The longer ye remain in my alley, the more I know. But I cannae offer you what ye seek, unless ye ask for it."
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And I'm just supposed to trust that- just, just supposed to tell you what I want, and it'll just miraculously happen?
That's a lot of trust I'd be putting in a complete - and, no offense, rather unsettling - stranger.
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For a price."
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What sort of price? Or is that going to be delightfully vague as well?
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