Ed's intention was certainly not to ask Izzy. When he leaves his cabin, he is mainly looking for Ava or Clarke, or Lucius, someone who presumably already knows Ed's reading difficulties and hasn't yet made fun of him for it, and someone who also would be a safe and fucking sane option to show mail from Stede (because it's definitely from Stede. Even if Ed's reading comprehension isn't top notch, it's pretty clear the only person who would send him such a pretty letter would be one Stede Bonnet).
"Iz!" And as soon as the greeting leaves his mouth, he regrets drawing attention to the letter flapping in his hand. Before all this, it would have been Izzy's job to read and filter through any correspondence or documents and bring the necessary details to Blackbeard. Here, Ed's found there's an abundance of people who can read, write, etc, but it's still habit to consult Izzy. "Uh, hey." He shoves the letter into an inner pocket of his jacket as he approaches his first mate. "How's progress on the crew?"
Now is an extremely odd time to catch his first mate. He is in. Mmmm... a bit of a state, to be honest.
Normal Izzy, buttoned up, tightly wound, Izzy, is momentarily put to bed as an aftermath of very good tequila and a foray into the land of just what the fuck a hot tub is.
Very good, is the answer. A hot tub is very, very good.
He's wearing one of his ugly shirts, a malicious gift from Stede, but it is black with a tolerable amount of tropical leaf line work, and very, very soft. The one drawback being that his single glove looks even stranger with short sleeves.
Izzy hears Ed approach before he even speaks, having committed the sound of his footsteps to memory, and just catches him hiding something away. He stops in the hall, casually leaning against the wall of the corridor lest he sway and betray himself, and wills his entire body into sobriety as fast as possible. It is only marginally successful in the way that drunk people think it is successful to act sober.
"Uh? It's is. Good."
Good, right? Yeah, fuck it why not.
"I'm assuming your crew is Bonnet's crew, but I've got another name. Darcy, young thing but rabid as a fucking wolf hound."
He clearly likes her, so that's saying something.
Even through his soggy brain he can hedge a bet that Ed hasn't come looking for an update on something he was not particularly engaged with previously. Izzy crosses his arms. Be casual, be casual.
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6/28
"Iz!" And as soon as the greeting leaves his mouth, he regrets drawing attention to the letter flapping in his hand. Before all this, it would have been Izzy's job to read and filter through any correspondence or documents and bring the necessary details to Blackbeard. Here, Ed's found there's an abundance of people who can read, write, etc, but it's still habit to consult Izzy. "Uh, hey." He shoves the letter into an inner pocket of his jacket as he approaches his first mate. "How's progress on the crew?"
no subject
Normal Izzy, buttoned up, tightly wound, Izzy, is momentarily put to bed as an aftermath of very good tequila and a foray into the land of just what the fuck a hot tub is.
Very good, is the answer. A hot tub is very, very good.
He's wearing one of his ugly shirts, a malicious gift from Stede, but it is black with a tolerable amount of tropical leaf line work, and very, very soft. The one drawback being that his single glove looks even stranger with short sleeves.
Izzy hears Ed approach before he even speaks, having committed the sound of his footsteps to memory, and just catches him hiding something away. He stops in the hall, casually leaning against the wall of the corridor lest he sway and betray himself, and wills his entire body into sobriety as fast as possible. It is only marginally successful in the way that drunk people think it is successful to act sober.
"Uh? It's is. Good."
Good, right? Yeah, fuck it why not.
"I'm assuming your crew is Bonnet's crew, but I've got another name. Darcy, young thing but rabid as a fucking wolf hound."
He clearly likes her, so that's saying something.
Even through his soggy brain he can hedge a bet that Ed hasn't come looking for an update on something he was not particularly engaged with previously. Izzy crosses his arms. Be casual, be casual.
"Did you need something?"