witchesreign

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Well since we're breaking away to begin with, why not go all the way and just become pirates? Floating the seven seas, waving our battle flag from the massive white dome. Pillage and plunder and the occasional panty raid. What do you think? Shall we put it to the vote?

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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.]

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