witchesreign

[Namur shrugs, blatantly ignores the literal ass kicking, and parks himself on the stool, plonking down the pack he brought on the counter, causing them to clink.]

Ain't bad. Jus' got t' get rid a the evidence 'fore they come through. Won't matter either way once I graduate. Wonder if they'll move me somewhere else, or if they'll heap Zelos on someone else?

[They'd better not move him far. He'd gotten too used to Namur close at hand. Even if he would be in the same Garden. Thatch shakes off the thought and makes some sushi with the last of the fish. It's not exactly fresh but it'll be serviceable]

You like it here?

[Namur shears the metal top off one of the bottles with his teeth and spits it onto the counter in front of him. He takes a long pull- which is more like just opening his mouth and dumping a quarter of the bottle's contents behind his rows of teeth- then wipes his mouth with his sleeve.]

Better'n T-Garden, that's for sure. Ain't nothin' like bein' at home, but...

[Namur drops his chin onto the counter, arms slung over the edge in front of him.]

Well, shit. Home prob'ly ain't nothin' like home anymore by this point anyway. Might as well make the best a shit.

Trabia was all right. [he still feels a bit of affection for the garden that had put up with their--his shit for so long. Balamb was better, he had to admit, if he had to be in a Garden at all.

He puts the sushi on the table and kicks back, opening his beer and taking a drink so his mouth will be full as he grunts to say he heard Namur's statement. Though he'd be damned if he agreed with it]

Gonna settle down, then? Raise some spawn? You'd have your choice of the pool.

[If eye rolling were a sport Namur would be winning the world championship right now.]

Naw. Think Sal's last one was mine an' that's good 'nuff. 'Sides, Time Compression's a dumbass son of a bitch an' probably'd take the girl an' net me with the spawn an' I ain't any good for that kind a shit. Sendin' money an' gettin' 'em in a bit a trouble every so often's one thing, but all day, every day? Hell no.

[He sits up and takes another drink.]

'Sides, 'maids 'round here ain't hot for me. Curious a little but it ain't the right kind.

Are you sure about that? [he leans forward and rests his chin on his fist, smirking at Namur, though completely serious]

Want me to set you up with some nice tail? Just for fun? [he could. He wasn't sure how just yet, but this kind of thing was right up his alley.]

Sheheheh! If y' find a girl 'round here with a nice long tail an' a pretty little fin I'll be happy as a damn clownfish. Don't see it happenin' any time soon, though.

[Shut up he isn't blushing.]

If I saw a 'maid like that you might have to fight me for her.

[though not really. He wouldn't begrudge his friend the chance at someone like that.] Maybe one day...

[he glances at Namur, and then away, sipping at his drink. He takes a roll of sushi and pops it into his mouth]

What would you say if I wanted to mess with time.

[You know, hypothetically]

Feel better if I had t', honestly.

[Thatch taking a thoughtful turn gave Namur enough time to snatch a couple rolls for himself.]

Ain't that Marco's plan too? Shit's already mucked up t' the surface, so why the hell not go for it?

Yes but he's doing it all... [Thatch waves a hand] ...esoterically. [like Marco does. Pecking at the problem from all sides without attacking the actual center.]

I want to dig into the actual magic. See if I can manipulate it. [or maybe even stop it completely]

Like a Sorceress? Got t' be careful then. World'll sic itself on y' faster'n a 'maid with a back current. We ain't strong 'nuff t' hold 'em off y' yet. Need more men. More a us. An' a place t' call home that ain't borrowed.

Tch. [Damnit, Namur. Don't make sense like that. But it made sense. It was too big of a risk to take now. Small as they were. Confined as they were.]

I wouldn't wish this place on anyone, even if they are one of us. Especially us.

[He's not saying don't. He's saying don't let anyone know.]

Yeah... maybe some day we'll get 'nuff a crew t' head out t' sea for real. Sail 'round, givin' people 'nother option 'sides SeeD an' Sol Invictus. Maybe find a nice island t' claim where people that don't want t' be pirates can live. Farm an' fish an' shit if they want, y' know?

[Namur takes another drink, moves over to the couch.]

Ain't goin' t' stop the problem though. People's jus' goin' t' keep showin' up an' disappearin' long as time's out a whack or whatever. Kind a get where the natives're comin' from on that front. Feelin' like they're bein' invaded. But it ain't like we got a choice in the damn matter, an' that makes no one happy. Best place t' figure out what's goin' on an' stop it though's here in Garden.

[He shrugs, and pops a few more rolls of sushi into his mouth.]

[sailing? an island where they could be all to themselves? He sighs and flops beside Namur on the couch, finishing his beer and scratching his stomach]

Maybe work toward that dream first, eh? [he wants to stop it, but who knows what will happen then.] A place of our own... [he glances at Namur]

You think trying to stop--[he waves a hand] this is such a good idea? [he had some sympathy. It wasn't pleasant having so many strangers, some of them with abilities they might not have even heard before-- but at the same time he didn't want to...didn't want things to return how they were]

Hell, I don't know, Thatch. Ain't got no other way a stayin' with y'. An' maybe the Old Man'll be out there somewhere too, y' know? Maybe some a my boys I lost. Same time though it ain't... Dunno. Don't feel like we got a place here, y' know? Like we ain't part a this world really. Ain't ours, t' take or t' change or nothin', kind a.

[Namur huffs a deep sigh, drops his forehead onto Thatch's shoulder.]

But that's kind a stupid way t' think, since we got brought here an' can't go back. Why shouldn't that make it ours? If it's goin' t' shanghai us it damn well better be ready for us t' bring hell, right?

You really think-- [he wants to add, find Pops here...and as wonderful as that sounds...it sounds pretty terrible, too. Everything would be so screwed up again. But to see him again. The last time he saw him...how long had it been...? He just wants to get drunk and curl up against his massive leg, listening to him laugh and laughing with him and conspiring to sneak him off of the ship to go carousing or gambling or just a breath of fresh air.

Ah...wait. Namur is still talking. Thatch clears his throat and pays attention.]

Yeah...let's raise hell. Eventually. Ah... [he rubs the bridge of his nose] Sorry, give me a moment.

[Namur lifts his head, giving Thatch a narrow-eyed look.]

Cryin', Slughead? Stop that shit right now, huh?

[If Thatch starts he might start and he's too turned around in all directions to even know which way to go to make it stop. So he palm-strikes Thatch's shoulder instead. It's as good a solution as any.]

[BBS]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]