Carlos de los Santos (porelfavor) wrote in exvoto, @ 2013-04-16 00:54:00 |
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Having grown up on tales (be they true or otherwise) of pirates, Ghost’s very own boatswain had brought with him onto the ship all those years ago every expectation imaginable. Within a week, it’d become all too evident that sometimes, tales were just tales. Stories of fearsome, brave pirates who always took what they sought-- the only people who had impressed him were the captain and his second-in-command. Years later, Jack was stuck babysitting crewmates who needed someone to hold their hand and tell them what to do, and to inform them that if they should fail to comply, they would have a most miserable night. He ascended the steps up to the top deck, hoping for some fresh air after having been cooped up in the ship’s hull for some time. The breeze was most welcome as he came up topside, fingers sifting through those blonde bangs when they sat awkwardly against his warm forehead. Babysitting idiots was a tiresome job, but someone had to do it. Dalit was certain he would be impressed by the ethereal beauty that so demanded his attention and he had not been disappointed. Whatever hands had created her were moved by gods, he thought with a deep satisfaction. Finally, a ship worthy of a memory. It had been awkward boarding the ship. He brought so little; what he needed to look her over and nothing else. But then again he was an odd fellow and his actions were easily dismissed. The shipfitter found himself quickly buried in his obsession of Ghost. Every inch of her was inspected and inspected again, notes were taken mentally, compliments were murmured. This was a dream, his dream, a perfect vessel. And he was in awe. Certainly he could take what he learned here and apply it to the other tired ships he cared for. There was a silent dignity about the wood and he was eager to share it with others. Smiles and touches were all about him and he bothered not to hide his emotions as he turned, flourishing with broad sweeps against the smooth railing. “You should not look so sullen when standing on such a fine lady. Surely this is heaven upon the waters.” He lit and smiled and turned to lean over the side, muttering to himself; things to remember and enjoy. “Not to give you the impression that I think about you,” Jack started, edging closer until there was little space between them as he leaned his back into the rail. “But sometimes I wonder how old you are.” Ghost was impressive, most certainly, and it was true that years ago she’d daunted him, but he’d become so used to her as his home over time that she no longer fascinated him-- definitely not as much as she did Dalit. Part of him felt the amusement, while another part just wanted to shove him overboard for his excitement. How fortunate that he could exercise self-restraint in the best of times. Dalit simply chuckled and smiled to himself as he continued to lean over the rail, visually measuring what parts of the ship he could see. “I was not aware that one had to be a certain age to enjoy their job.” He couldn’t help but be amused at that. He kept the snide tone from his voice, figuring it would not be a good idea to be rude after finally getting on the ship. A moment more of looking and he rose, elbows resting and ocean eyes out. “She is a rare sight. I cannot help but be in awe of such a beauty, especially since she came to rest on such an unfortunate dock.” With his gaze turned out from the water, Jack could only rake his eyes over the rest of the ship, her strong floor, the sturdy railing on the other side, the tall, daunting masts. He settled his elbows against the rail, remembering how once, it all seemed just as magical to him. It was his chance to get away, a chance to start anew. Ghost had been a beacon of hope for him. That hadn’t changed, but often times, he did wonder where else he could’ve ended up had she not docked in the city all those years ago. He sucked in a deep breath and quickly expelled it. “Have you ever talked about a woman the same way? I bet you haven’t.” Drifting thoughts, just as calm as the water that cradled the ship. It was so odd to feel such contentment for once but welcome. This would make a wonderful memory to tuck next to his bedside. It would be sad when she sailed away but he had grown used to the disappointment of joy leaving his life. He took what he could get, relished it for a moment, and continued on in life bitter. Dalit gave an indignant huff at the question and rose, turning to stare at Jack. No, he was glaring; he was trying to. “I have.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice and he clenched his teeth. That was his fault. And here he was, still getting upset. It was that waver, that touch of anger that truly got Jack’s rocks off, more than he was willing to admit. Leaning more comfortably into his elbows, he offered the other boy a little smile. “When you say it like that, I find it hard to believe you.” Dalit was not used to this type of anger. It crawled along his back and neck, tense and spiteful. It wasn’t so much directed at Jack but at the reminder of his own cowardice. Jack just happened to be the one prodding it. He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it. The glare was shoved away and he turned back out to the ocean. “Believe what you want. I know it to be true.” Hitting him would not benefit the shipfitter. "Everything alright?" The voice was calm, matching the pleasant day with no cloud in the sky. The good doctor had picked up a rather nasty habit, letting a cigarette hang loose around his lips. He blamed "New crew member?" he asked, tilting his head toward Dalit, not used to going out of the office nearly enough to understand whom was who, having his head focused on work, medical supplies, and a certain surly blond he wasn't willing to identify. Dalit kept his back to the ship, even at the sound of the new voice. It grated him but then again everything was angering him at the moment. A beautiful ship and such rot. The glare he tried so hard to suppressed returned at the question and he turned, figuring if he was going to speak he might as well face whoever it was he was talking to. “Hardly. I am just looking her over.” Unfortunate. Absolutely unfortunate. “Because he’s about ten seconds away from making love to the railing,” Jack supplied conversationally, completely aware of what sort of reaction it’d elicit from Dalit (and not caring). Not wanting to give too much away with just a look, he turned his eyes to Carlos as casually as possible. “And you shouldn’t smoke, doctor -- it’s a terrible habit to get into.” "I blame you," Carlos said, not missing a beat. "And the rest of these damned sailors." He looked at Dalit for a moment, realization coming over him. So this was the eccentric shipfitter he heard gossip about. Strange man indeed, if whatever wit Jack was supplying was anything to go by. However, Carlos was something of a scientist, preferring to experience life and its curiosities first-hand and offered a hand out for the sake of pleasantries. "De los Santos. Medic. Yourself?" Dalit shot a dark look to Jack at his comment, the desire to push him over the railing coming over him suddenly. But he didn’t; despite how satisfying that would be for him. He would have to find another way to get back for that particular stab. Later, of course. Witnesses were bothersome. The hand that appeared in front of him managed to shake him from his thoughts, having entirely missed the conversation between the two and he stared at it with a slight frown before, surprisingly, taking it. “De los Santos? Dalit Feher. Shipfitter.” He faltered, suddenly amused with the title as his mind drifted over Jack’s previous commentary. “A pleasure.” Much better than the other annoyance beside him, at least. Carlos nodded, retracting reasonably if not stiffly. He seemed somewhat awkward and a tad anxious, but that was only to those who knew him well enough. "Jack's a bit of a bully but it grows on you," he said with a warning, leaning against the railing to enjoy his cigarette. He dreaded the day he'd become addicted to the nasty things. Barely, just barely, did Jack resist the urge to snag that cigarette out of the medic’s hand. To anyone else, it would’ve been typical Jack behaviour around the man most had long ago accepted was his best friend on board, but he figured it was too familiar an action around the desperate, smitten soul next to him. Instead, he sighed up toward the sky. “You say that as if you don’t enjoy when I break into your office to ruin your day. And I happen to be very nice,” he finished, blue eyes finally reaching Dalit’s face. Dalit did not look amused as Carlos spoke. If anything, it further annoyed him. To think he would want to be around Jack for any amount of time for it to ‘grow on’ him as the medic so suggested. He chuckled to himself, watching them closely, their interaction, listening. He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he stared at Jack. “Mm, but I would assume you are only nice to him,” spoken with a careless wave to Carlos. He managed a grin, looking quite pleased with himself. Sidestepping, he moved to the other side of Jack to once more examine the railing as though that part was somehow considerably different from what he had been leaning against seconds ago. Carlos was mildly taken aback at that comment, not quite expecting a rather astute comment from a complete stranger. Were they that obvious, he wondered. "I'm fairly pleasant to others," Carlos said with a stiff shrug of his shoulders, his teeth clamping down against the end of his roll a little tighter than usual. Dalit simply smiled in amusement. “Fairly pleasant is not the same as being nice.” He looked up. “Though don’t mistake me for saying you are mean or cruel or anything of the sort.” The shipfitter just couldn’t help the smile on his face. It was unusually cheeky. He was enjoying himself with this. It was much more entertaining than the railing. He heaved a sigh, leaning back to watch the clouds. And then he chuckled. But if Dalit felt he’d deserved some sort of award for being accidentally perceptive, he was very wrong. While the medic seemed to be giving off vibes of discomfort (Jack hadn’t noticed; his eyes hadn’t left the other blonde’s face), he was much less responsive when it came to body language. He snorted, tilting his head just enough for him to run a few fingers through his hair. “Fortune teller, shipfitter, and expert at making assumptions about people you’ve just met. Dalit, I’m impressed. What else can you do? Tell me you can stick swords down your throat.” Once more, he chuckled, turning amused eyes on Jack. “But correct assumptions.” He was very pleased with himself. This day had gotten so much better with their reactions. He had not been expecting it. But he was happy. “There are a lot of things I can do but I don’t think you’d care to find out, Jack,” spoken with sharp tones and smiles. Carlos almost choked on his cigarette, trying his damnedest not to cough. He did his best not to blatantly show how much that ruffled him, dusting it off. He was used to being picked on by his older brother, so this wasn't too different, even if that was simple boyhood and not his job or status as a married man on the line like now. "This isn't a circus or a brothel, so no indecent tricks allowed on deck. So, take it you're giving him a grand tour?" he replied to Jack, the wind picking up the remainder of ash from his lips and letting it glide along the breeze. The other blonde probably thought he was being very smart about this, and Jack didn’t quite know how far he’d go with it, but he was grateful for the change in topic, even though he didn’t avert his gaze from Dalit just yet. He leaned back into the railing. “I’m actually more interested in hearing how our new friend is more attracted to ships than to women. He even bristled a little bit, before you came along.” A hand was casually waved in Carlos’ general direction. “Just like an angry little boy.” At once smiles were gone, replaced by tight lips and narrow eyes. “You are wrong at that.” He had grown up around ships, was raised to cherish and respect them. But her memory had made him angry, not the ships. And he was once more angry. “You, I see, are not good at making assumptions about people you don’t know.” Perhaps he could get away with knocking him over the railing. He knew the words were spoken to rile but he just couldn’t be damned to keep check of his temper at the moment. Not when it came to anything concerning her. He moved, then, a step away from Jack. Tense, still, but thinking a bit above the rational line for the moment. Ghost’s prickly boatswain only smiled in Dalit’s place. “I don’t want to be. There’s a certain satisfaction that I get from making angry little boys even more angry.” His smile widened. “Huffy, almost.” Carlos rolled his eyes, giving a light smack on the back of Jack's head. "Easy now, you're not boys anymore." Dalit was riled and he did not like this feeling. He had a few choice words on the tip of his tongue but never quite got the chance to speak. The medic’s actions surprised him and he found himself quickly calmed-- for which he was grateful. He found being angry an annoyance. Turning, he leaned against the railing, still away from Jack, with a mutter of ‘some of us’ or something rather. It was hard to tell and he had no intentions of repeating himself. So he smiled, sneered. “The only time you will get that satisfaction.” Though Dalit didn’t know it, Jack was well-known by the crew for his irritability, and it showed its face as he swatted the medic’s hand away, unappreciative of the smack, regardless of their familiarity (sexual or otherwise). But the irritation faded just as quickly as it’d appeared, and he shifted closer to the other blonde, until only a foot remained between them. “Are you sure about that?” The shipfitter rose with an annoyed look, letting it fall away from his face as he turned to smile at Jack; gesture never meeting his eyes. “I am positive.” He shrugged slightly as though to dismiss the man’s question. His shoulders were back, straight and staring right in Jack’s eyes, challenging a bit, perhaps, but he couldn’t help himself. He was enjoying this interaction. Carlos sighed, rolling his eyes. "Aye, para el mar..." The waves rolled against Ghost, splashing like hungry women to a man, the saltwater crawling up her boards and panels. The salt stung in his nostrils and to that, he sighed. "If you two engage in fisticuffs, be kind enough to take it off the ship. I doubt the captain would be impressed with it..." Always playing the good boy with his brothers, and now doing so with grown men. What on earth had his life become. Already quite familiar with having to be stitched up by Carlos after a round of fighting with someone who often had a legitimate reason to throw the fist in the first place, Jack pushed from the railing, eyes never once leaving the shipfitter’s. “I doubt the captain would bat an eyelash,” he corrected, eventually reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of Dalit’s face in a manner most befitting of his often condescending self. “If I pushed around everyone I upset, I’d be long dead. He can keep his pretty face today.” Dalit managed to keep himself calm and still as Jack spoke, moved, though swearing to the deities, it was difficult to not break the hand that was touching him --if only because he had no desire to end up over the side of the ship. He managed a smile, disgusted and haughty. “It would be quite a shame to disgrace you on your ship. No reason to.” The shipfitter chuckled faintly, sidestepping with a dismissive glance. “Well then, how about that grand tour so welcomingly suggested earlier? I’ve seen her outside, I’d like to check over the rest. Don’t want her having an early sleep.” Carlos rolled his eyes, feeling a faint shudder go down his spine. The shipfitter almost sounded predatory over the grand ship and then looked at Jack. "You know, Jack, I've actually never really bothered to explore Ghost in her entirety either. Mind if I tag along?" Once the boatswain had been startled by the way new crew members spoke so boldly with him once he’d earned his position, but he knew that the longer one spent on board, the sooner they realized how easily insubordination led to a boot in their ass and a face-first splash into the water below the ship. Maybe Dalit wouldn’t be staying for long, but Jack knew that one day, he’d regret speaking so candidly with him. The look he offered Dalit was entirely different from the one offered to Carlos, which went unseen as he faced the medic. “Five years, Carlos. Five years. I’m going to draw a map of the ship and nail it to your forehead so you never get lost again.” As he passed the two of them, heading in the direction of the steps leading to the lower deck, he tossed a look over his shoulder. “Coming or not?” Dalit simply smiled, quite amused with the look he received and chuckled. There was a snide comment wanting to make its way out of his lips but he denied it. The medic was being tolerable, no reason in upsetting him along with the walking annoyance. The shipfitter gestured with glances to Carlos. Don’t want you getting lost. “Coming. Jack.” Carlos followed along behind the two men, hoping to the sea that the two blond sea-savvy men would keep their hands to themselves. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and that was a good enough sign for the medic. |