tentacruelest | 1st Wave

1st Wave

[Down in the depths of Zero sits a sulking, furious squid creature, wrapping his tentacle-like hand around his communicator. Davy Jones has been looking it over for the past day, and is thus far unimpressed. A way to talk to the rest of the crew? What was the point? They had nothing worthwhile to discuss]

Pardon the intrusion of an old pirate captain, but I believe I've requested to see his grace the Admiral, if he so deigns to get his fat arse off the bridge and address my concerns.

Bah - you think a day's stay in the brig will ease th' way of our voyage together? You think your pathetic lot of untested boys, women and slaves is enough to keep Davy Jones at bay for long? You're more of a fool than I'd taken you for.

And the next bilge rat what comes down here prattling on about inmates and other worlds is the next I mark for death.

Riddick - I name ye. Dean Winchester - I name ye too.

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[Bristling in silence as Iris speaks, Davy's face tentacles writhe angrily and curl up close to his chin - a sign of ever-impending stress and temper]

Keep your pity, woman. I need nothing from you.

There's a difference between compassion and pity, you calamari-faced oaf.

[To this, Davy only gives a mirthless smirk, his eyes narrowing]

You wait until I'm free of these bars, and then we'll see who calls who names.

Keep your compassion. What good has compassion ever done any man?

Spoken like a man who's never known any, clearly. It doesn't work that way, pet; like love and my bus, it goes where it wants.

[There are chairs down here for visitors and the supervising wardens; Iris pulls one up and settles in ot comfortably.]

So tell me about yourself, then, poppet. 'Ave you liked your life, so far?

And it can be just as soon chased away.

[Looking absolutely murderous as Iris begins making herself comfortable, Davy clacks his claw once]

Does it look to you as though I've had an enjoyable time of it?

[She grins, now.]

Spoken like a man that's never known me, clearly. Not the last two days, no, but before that, 'ow can I tell? I've always enjoyed pirating, meself.

Despite what you may assume, it is no longer within my duties to pirate, steal, and ransacks ships.

Well, that's why I asked, isn't it, lovey? I'm tryin' not to make assumptions.

Did you like your life, as it were before you come 'ere?

Stop asking after my life.

You 'ad enough to say earlier. I'm a curious sort of girl, lovey. I like finding things out.

[She tops up her glass from her everpresent hip flask, tilts it at him again and drinks, watching him thoughtfully.]

[Settling back against his bunk, Davy sets his heavy claw on his lap]

And to what use would you put your knowledge?

Well, I'm stuck on a boat with you whether we like it or not, lovey; it might come in 'andy. You're new and interesting and I'm down an inmate, though. I've got time on me 'ands. I don't really need another reason.

A fine zoo animal I make. A cursed man in a cage.

Off with you, woman.

Now you're just being petulant.

[Going nowhere.]

And I will continue to be so until you leave.

[Now she's enjoying herself; it's evident in the deeper smile and the wicked glint in her eyes.]

I'm nine 'undred years old, I don't need sleep and I brought a book, my love; is this the hill you really want to die on?

[And then, more softly.]

I will if you ask nicely.

I may have but a fraction of your years, but I have far more to lose. Leave me.

That's why I made the effort to make friends, lovey.

Nicely.

I am not your friend.

No, I know, love. I'll be around if you want one later, though.

[She fishes her paperback out of her bag - a lurid and well-thumbed volume in a language that's never been near Earth - and curls contentedly into the chair.]

[With a derisive snort, Davy turns his face away, staring at the wall. He can be patient, but it's not easy without a ship to run or an organ to play]

[Iris is not usually very good at patience, herself; but it's been a stressful, eventful few days and she could use the rest.

So she'll just be right here. Chilling with her book.]

[Davy is silent for long moments, but eventually a tinkling bit of music from a sad lullabye is heard as his tentacled hand slides over the heart-shaped locket he holds in his palm]

[She does a creditable job of pretending not to notice, although inwardly Iris' whole being pricks its ears up at the music like a dog hearing its master's footsteps.

Eventually, if the music keeps up, she'll surrender to the impulse to harmonise: very gently, soft, low and wordless, and without looking up.]

[As soon as Iris starts to hum, Davy abruptly cuts off the sound, looking murderous. He stands and lumbers over to the bars, glowering down at Iris]

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