It was true, Anne had a habit of speaking quickly and expecting quick, short answers for her questions. Pirates weren’t the most talkative bunch and they didn’t engage in conversation aside from business so much as bragging, threatening, talking about fucking, talking about fighting or actually fucking and fighting. Jack was different, of course, he loved to talk and as far as she was concerned, loved the sound of his own voice but she, strangely, didn’t hold it against him. With her, she was all questions and quick, brusque answers, a lot like the men that she lived with. But when she was alone with Jack, she naturally spoke more and said what she was feeling. What was on her mind. No one else was really privy to that than him.
When he told her she’d have to slow down a little, she pursed her lips and cocked her head in a suggestion of cooperation. Sure. She had to remember this wasn’t Nassau. It wasn’t talk fast or get cheated fast here. Anne was sure people would call this a safe place but she knew too well that there was really no such thing as a safe place. A place was safe- until suddenly, it wasn’t anymore. That was how the world worked and she knew it in her gut.
When he told her the next round was on him, she eyed him pouring his drink and decided, “You’re alright.” As far as compliments and Anne went, Azrael was making a fantastic impression on her. She slid her glass over to let him top her off and her eyes went from her glass to him, never quite catching his eyes but taking in his face while he spoke.
“Mm,” she responded when he told her he was glad but if he got to know her, she reckoned he’d learn that she was always okay. Knew how to take care of herself. Didn’t get easily knocked off-guard and had learned to react before understanding fully to preserve her safety. Sure, she had developed a reputation for being violent and a hot-head but the real victory was in the fact she was still alive. That was all anyone need worry themselves with. ‘Steam train’? Squinting at that, she tried to remember to ask him what in the hell a steam train was. So what she was on was just a normal train. It was odd, though, to hear someone who looked to be human himself, tell her how far ‘humans’ had come. She was quite sure he was a little mad but it wasn’t the madness that got people killed, it was the fear. The fear the mad ones had.
When he was done topping her off, she took another healthy swig of it and licked her lips. This was something she could get used to. Fine whiskey. An appreciation for her presence here, perhaps. That was new, she thought to herself, disguising the thought in another sip. And when he assured her it would never be swill, she looked at him closely, as if assessing him but wore a look of approval. Well, she definitely couldn’t complain about that. She knew Eleanor recycled the unfinished rum in cups by pouring it back into the pitchers. Everyone knew that. It tasted like shit. The way he drank was careful, maybe because this was good liquor. But she didn’t savor. She tore into good things like it was her last day on earth because it might’ve well been. Couldn’t always keep the good stuff sitting around for a rainy day on a ship.
When he explained the crystal, she stared at it, elbows on the bar, leaning in. Well, it didn’t look like it was worth nothing, hell, if she had something like that, she’d sell it in a heartbeat. But she knew she couldn’t swipe it off the man like that, first, because it hung around his neck. Second, because he was keeping her in the drinks and it’d be against the few things she believed in. When he finished talking, she looked up at him curiously, frowning a little and wrinkling her nose.
“So it’s from your family. ‘Cause it don’t look right on you but it does catch the light, would’ve fetched a pretty penny where I’m from. So… you call it your heart, ‘cause your heart’s with your family or something?”