“Because I’m very popular,” Izzy answers deadpan without missing a beat.
The extremely flowery way in which his name is scrawled across the front is the clear and obvious hand of their most mutual cause of…let’s go with strife. Stede Bonnet.
Leaning against the dresser, Izzy opens and reads the letter, holding it back a bit so he can see. As he does, his face drops more and more and more, brow furrowing. It is not a good letter.
He closes his eyes and takes a breath.
It does not contain a single sentence to feel good about.
Even at a distance, Lucius recognizes that extremely loopy calligraphy. That, however, does nothing to alleviate his confusion. He pads over toward the water heater--burbling alongside them cheerfully--and, if Izzy doesn't move it, will crane and try to read it upside down.
"What in the world does the Captain want with you at this hour?" Lucius asks and then, after a beat, it occurs to him that he has no idea what hour it actually is. He glances back at the curtains, still drawn. It's light out. Fuck.
No, fuck off, this isn’t for you. He holds the letter away and shoos Lucius to deal with the tea. Be helpful if you’re here.
“Quarter to ten,” Izzy does answer, though. Not because he wants to, but it’s reflex and he’d glanced at the clock when he got up. They have had, maximum, five, six hours sleep. A very late start in their line of work but not so late for others.
“He’s summoning me to an execution it looks like.”
Lucius pouts and rolls his eyes but slogs his way over to the hot water machine and the box of tea. He makes the tea idly and stays half turned, listening to Izzy as he elaborates. He caught the time and he hates everything about that, but there's nothing for it.
"Stede Bonnet is not going to execute you. It'd be lucky to end up a slight maiming," Lucius drawls, missing the point by a mile. He's still very tired and woke up two minutes ago, don't expect much out of him right away. "How come he sends you mail?"
“Because he’s a childish cunt and he’s obsessed with me,”
Where’s the lie.
But alas that’s not all of it. This isn’t a challenge to a duel or anything so easy. Izzy doesn’t think Stede would be able to execute him in a million years, but it isn’t Stede Izzy is worrying about.
“He’s also an idiot. And he’s arranged parlay between myself, himself, and the captain of this vessel. Today.”
He's not awake enough to even attempt mixing Izzy's tea for him, or even to mix his own--today is a straight tea sort of day, apparently. He blinks blearily and then has a moment of vague alarm. He drops the duvet (not the tea thankfully) and uses his free hand to pat where his pocket would be.
If he weren't, you know, nude.
After blearily groping his leg for a moment he huffs and moves to his discarded trunks. They get hitched on, finally restoring some of his modesty (hah), and he fishes his phone from the pocket. After a moment spent peering at it, he pulls something up and just holds it out, screen pointed at Izzy.
Oh. Those things. Izzy has one too. But with literally zero use for it or any idea how it works, it rests ignored in the drawer with a dead battery.
The sudden spring of action grabs his attention from his whirling thoughts and he takes the little thing, reading through the conversation. There is.. there is a lot of information here.
Lucius, who immediately wrapped both hands around his cuppa the moment Izzy took the phone, is currently about two inches from the top of that mug breathing in the sweet aroma of a caffeinated beverage. He blinks and looks at Izzy like he's asked the craziest thing he's ever heard and takes a long, deep drink. It's hot. He regrets his decision instantly, but it does render him a bit more awake.
"Oh--" He begrudgingly removes a hand from the warm side of the mug and waves it dismissively.
"Skulduggery sent them to me, that's him," Lucius explains between smaller sips of tea. "Really appreciate his dedication, right? Very good at investigating."
"Like a baby," Lucius says, which is an answer to the question Izzy did not ask. "He doesn't so the bed is aaaaall mine. Fantastic really. All he needs is the wardrobe and the bottom drawer. Wonderful roommate. Highly recommended. Can take people flying, even."
God this tea is so good. He is going to finish his and start in on another cup. He checks and yes, gloriously, there is enough water.
"Good job you don't have a roommate or this might be awkward, huh?"
“Yeah, he might drink all my fucking tea, then where would I be.”
Deadpan again, on beat for the second time. Look how on it he is when he’s had a good night. Even now crippled with existential dread about the future.
Speaking of tea, Izzy looks for his own after offering back the phone, also taking a moment to savour the warmth and aroma. Izzy keeps his room quite cold. Not for any other reason than he hasn’t worked out the air conditioning controls, but it is what it is. A hot cuppa in the morning can set most things right. So if he’s going to die, which is a distinct possibility, then at least he would have had this.
He can only hope that they aren’t about to have A Talk.
Lucius is a huge proponent of Talks, at least in the context of people he plans on fucking again, but he is not good with waking up. Izzy is spared a talk if only because words currently elude the scribe--the world is only tea. Tea and, once he bends down and reclaims the blanket he cast aside, his duvet cape. He stares idly into space and, after a minute or two of blessed, tea-drinking silence, looks at Izzy like he's just forgotten something.
"Oh right--hope you don't get executed. That would be rough. Please try not to stab the Captain. My Captain. The other one? Eh. Best judgment, yeah? When's it going to be?"
Izzy gives a middling ‘eh’ hand gesture in terms of stabbings. No promises. It depends on how the parlay goes and what he needs to do to win. Stede may think this is just a friendly chat but Izzy is under no illusions. Parlay is never, ever, just a chat.
“That might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”
Is it sarcastic, yes, but it’s also true. Oh the intricacies. Still, it is nice to have someone to talk to about this, especially seeing as he is apparently not allowed to involve Edward. Feels extremely wrong.
“Seven. At least it gives us some time to plan. Figure out how this came to head and figure out what leverage we have. If we have any at all.”
He isn’t convinced. Hell, Izzy doesn’t even know Hiram exists.
"He's magical right? So...if we do, it's probably weird," Lucius says as he cradles and sips his tea. He's waking up, more alert, but it's going slower than he's personally prefer.
"You want help planning?" Lucius offers casually--if the Captain's going to that, his day is basically free. It hasn't occurred to him that there's a very real possibility the Captain will die at this meeting...but that's mostly because, in Lucius's experience, people don't seem to have a lot of luck killing Stede Bonnet.
Izzy takes a sip of his own brew and considers the offer. In the wake of the letter and this whole…them situation, he really isn’t sure how he feels about continuing on as normal. Would it be best? Just breeze past what happened?
Yes, he decides. Absolutely yes.
To confront it would mean thinking about it which would mean thinking about feelings and he isn’t prepared for that. Not to mention he hasn’t got the bandwidth. Plus, Lucius is clever. He’s switched on, he’s spent a great deal of time with Stede. He’s an asset. A confusing, confusing asset.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah if you’re interested in that.”
He’s hoping to corner Stede and plan but he will not be lucky in that regard. His day will be, frustratingly, devoid of the captain’s presence. The one time Izzy wishes it weren’t. Go figure.
Izzy takes his hand through his hair and rubs his face. He can’t have 24 hours without something going to shit, can he.
Planning starts now, then. He is already exhausted by it.
“I reckon this will be about our crew. Having a gang of pirates on your ship, with captains, isn’t very good for business.”
Lucius had been sincere in the offer but, honestly, he'd been expecting another 'fuck off'. When he doesn't get it and Izzy accepts his help, he perks up a bit, curious, and suddenly determined to actually be helpful. He tops up his tea with hot water, then, and meanders to drop back onto the bed. Not for sleeping, just so that he can properly cocoon himself in the duvet.
"Well...it sounds like business is mostly...murdering people and absorbing strife? Right?" Lucius says and peers at his cup. The expression on his face folds a bit, torn between amusement and dry sarcasm.
"Picked a strange set of pirate captains if that's the goal, aye? Well, not Blackbeard, but Stede...eeeeeh--maybe you're right though, but that means there's funny business that we are somehow messing up. Can't imagine what that would be."
Izzy shakes his head and drops down on the sofa, fluffy robe and all.
“Men alone are panicky, stupid animals. But together..they’re a threat. This crew is fuckin’ piss poor in comparison to The Revenge-“
Which is really saying something, let’s be honest.
“-but it’s possible The Captain doesn’t know that. He just knows we’re an organised, anti establishment group who don’t take kindly to being held captive and are actively training and recruiting. I enlisted two men just last night.”
At that Lucius makes a noise--he's not unhappy that they have new crewmates, but that he's going to have to draw up a new roster. Probably new agreements as well, in the event they ever have any loot to split. He sips at his tea and thinks.
"Okay so...either he thinks we are a threat....or maybe he's pissed about the...recruiting? Like...if people are on a crew together that means they probably won't just murder each other at the drop of a hat?"
Said with zero irony. It's too early for irony.
"Maybe he expects us to band together and just ruin the torture for him?"
Something about the way Lucius says it clicks a few pieces into place for Izzy. He has a very visual ‘aha!’ moment and looks at Lucius like he’s got two heads.
“That’s good. That’s perfect.”
So much so that it compels him to pitch forward and cross the small space to the opposite corner of the bed on hands and knees in full conspiracy theorist mode.
“We can’t kill him, but we can fuckin’ starve him.”
Lucius watches Izzy rise up, climb on the bed, and lean right into his personal space and is, for just a moment, stunned. He's not sure what he said that was correct enough to merit this, but he's not going to complain. Izzy keeps going, his eureka carrying him through, and Lucius finally catches up to his thought.
"Wait--yeah okay, that's, could do couldn't we?" Lucius says. "That would be worrying, wouldn't it? I mean, if we were this ship's Captain and also magical...demon things that absorb sadness or whatever?"
The Captain is really, very fond of torture. If he's worried about them refusing to play, or if they've already disrupted something and starved him, then this meeting is going to be extremely fraught. Made moreso by the fact that it's actually a good idea...and if they hadn't already, they were going to start doing it shortly.
"You might actually be going to an execution, then. At least, if that's why he wants to chat."
They’re absolutely about to start doing it. Brilliant idea, Lucius. You’ll get all the credit. Every last bit.
The weight of the observation knocks Izzy back a bit as he leaves the excitement of finally locating a decent angle of attack.
If that’s what’s going on then…mm. Yeah, he’s fucked.
Or Stede is fucked and Izzy is obligated to fight as his second.
So, still fucked.
He sits with that for a moment. Izzy has never died before. It holds exactly zero appeal, least of all dying for Stede fucking Bonnet. Just like he refused to do when they first boarded The Revenge. Just like that the wind falls from his own sails.
“If I am to die. Then at least I’ll go out fighting with a good night under my belt.”
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The extremely flowery way in which his name is scrawled across the front is the clear and obvious hand of their most mutual cause of…let’s go with strife. Stede Bonnet.
Leaning against the dresser, Izzy opens and reads the letter, holding it back a bit so he can see. As he does, his face drops more and more and more, brow furrowing. It is not a good letter.
He closes his eyes and takes a breath.
It does not contain a single sentence to feel good about.
“Fuuuck,” he growls under his breath.
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"What in the world does the Captain want with you at this hour?" Lucius asks and then, after a beat, it occurs to him that he has no idea what hour it actually is. He glances back at the curtains, still drawn. It's light out. Fuck.
"Wait, what time is it?"
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“Quarter to ten,” Izzy does answer, though. Not because he wants to, but it’s reflex and he’d glanced at the clock when he got up. They have had, maximum, five, six hours sleep. A very late start in their line of work but not so late for others.
“He’s summoning me to an execution it looks like.”
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"Stede Bonnet is not going to execute you. It'd be lucky to end up a slight maiming," Lucius drawls, missing the point by a mile. He's still very tired and woke up two minutes ago, don't expect much out of him right away. "How come he sends you mail?"
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Where’s the lie.
But alas that’s not all of it. This isn’t a challenge to a duel or anything so easy. Izzy doesn’t think Stede would be able to execute him in a million years, but it isn’t Stede Izzy is worrying about.
“He’s also an idiot. And he’s arranged parlay between myself, himself, and the captain of this vessel. Today.”
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He's not awake enough to even attempt mixing Izzy's tea for him, or even to mix his own--today is a straight tea sort of day, apparently. He blinks blearily and then has a moment of vague alarm. He drops the duvet (not the tea thankfully) and uses his free hand to pat where his pocket would be.
If he weren't, you know, nude.
After blearily groping his leg for a moment he huffs and moves to his discarded trunks. They get hitched on, finally restoring some of his modesty (hah), and he fishes his phone from the pocket. After a moment spent peering at it, he pulls something up and just holds it out, screen pointed at Izzy.
"Here, scroll down."
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The sudden spring of action grabs his attention from his whirling thoughts and he takes the little thing, reading through the conversation. There is.. there is a lot of information here.
“Where did you get this?”
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"Uh...we all have one? Got it when we woke up."
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“Ay?…eh-“ a vague gesture. Drawer-Ish. He has one too. He doesn’t care. He has also clearly never used it.
“The messages, Lucius. The information.”
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"Skulduggery sent them to me, that's him," Lucius explains between smaller sips of tea. "Really appreciate his dedication, right? Very good at investigating."
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He reads the messages again. Yes, that makes more sense and also aligns with some information given to him by the very same.
“He does seem very in the know. Useful then you share a room, but how you get any sleep I will never know.”
He just. Wouldn’t be able to do that, he thinks.
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God this tea is so good. He is going to finish his and start in on another cup. He checks and yes, gloriously, there is enough water.
"Good job you don't have a roommate or this might be awkward, huh?"
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Deadpan again, on beat for the second time. Look how on it he is when he’s had a good night. Even now crippled with existential dread about the future.
Speaking of tea, Izzy looks for his own after offering back the phone, also taking a moment to savour the warmth and aroma. Izzy keeps his room quite cold. Not for any other reason than he hasn’t worked out the air conditioning controls, but it is what it is. A hot cuppa in the morning can set most things right. So if he’s going to die, which is a distinct possibility, then at least he would have had this.
He can only hope that they aren’t about to have A Talk.
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"Oh right--hope you don't get executed. That would be rough. Please try not to stab the Captain. My Captain. The other one? Eh. Best judgment, yeah? When's it going to be?"
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“That might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”
Is it sarcastic, yes, but it’s also true. Oh the intricacies. Still, it is nice to have someone to talk to about this, especially seeing as he is apparently not allowed to involve Edward. Feels extremely wrong.
“Seven. At least it gives us some time to plan. Figure out how this came to head and figure out what leverage we have. If we have any at all.”
He isn’t convinced. Hell, Izzy doesn’t even know Hiram exists.
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"You want help planning?" Lucius offers casually--if the Captain's going to that, his day is basically free. It hasn't occurred to him that there's a very real possibility the Captain will die at this meeting...but that's mostly because, in Lucius's experience, people don't seem to have a lot of luck killing Stede Bonnet.
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Izzy takes a sip of his own brew and considers the offer. In the wake of the letter and this whole…them situation, he really isn’t sure how he feels about continuing on as normal. Would it be best? Just breeze past what happened?
Yes, he decides. Absolutely yes.
To confront it would mean thinking about it which would mean thinking about feelings and he isn’t prepared for that. Not to mention he hasn’t got the bandwidth. Plus, Lucius is clever. He’s switched on, he’s spent a great deal of time with Stede. He’s an asset. A confusing, confusing asset.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah if you’re interested in that.”
He’s hoping to corner Stede and plan but he will not be lucky in that regard. His day will be, frustratingly, devoid of the captain’s presence. The one time Izzy wishes it weren’t. Go figure.
Izzy takes his hand through his hair and rubs his face. He can’t have 24 hours without something going to shit, can he.
Planning starts now, then. He is already exhausted by it.
“I reckon this will be about our crew. Having a gang of pirates on your ship, with captains, isn’t very good for business.”
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"Well...it sounds like business is mostly...murdering people and absorbing strife? Right?" Lucius says and peers at his cup. The expression on his face folds a bit, torn between amusement and dry sarcasm.
"Picked a strange set of pirate captains if that's the goal, aye? Well, not Blackbeard, but Stede...eeeeeh--maybe you're right though, but that means there's funny business that we are somehow messing up. Can't imagine what that would be."
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(Why does Lucius look so nice in his bed?)
Izzy shakes his head and drops down on the sofa, fluffy robe and all.
“Men alone are panicky, stupid animals. But together..they’re a threat. This crew is fuckin’ piss poor in comparison to The Revenge-“
Which is really saying something, let’s be honest.
“-but it’s possible The Captain doesn’t know that. He just knows we’re an organised, anti establishment group who don’t take kindly to being held captive and are actively training and recruiting. I enlisted two men just last night.”
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"Okay so...either he thinks we are a threat....or maybe he's pissed about the...recruiting? Like...if people are on a crew together that means they probably won't just murder each other at the drop of a hat?"
Said with zero irony. It's too early for irony.
"Maybe he expects us to band together and just ruin the torture for him?"
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Something about the way Lucius says it clicks a few pieces into place for Izzy. He has a very visual ‘aha!’ moment and looks at Lucius like he’s got two heads.
“That’s good. That’s perfect.”
So much so that it compels him to pitch forward and cross the small space to the opposite corner of the bed on hands and knees in full conspiracy theorist mode.
“We can’t kill him, but we can fuckin’ starve him.”
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"Wait--yeah okay, that's, could do couldn't we?" Lucius says. "That would be worrying, wouldn't it? I mean, if we were this ship's Captain and also magical...demon things that absorb sadness or whatever?"
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The Captain is really, very fond of torture. If he's worried about them refusing to play, or if they've already disrupted something and starved him, then this meeting is going to be extremely fraught. Made moreso by the fact that it's actually a good idea...and if they hadn't already, they were going to start doing it shortly.
"You might actually be going to an execution, then. At least, if that's why he wants to chat."
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The weight of the observation knocks Izzy back a bit as he leaves the excitement of finally locating a decent angle of attack.
If that’s what’s going on then…mm. Yeah, he’s fucked.
Or Stede is fucked and Izzy is obligated to fight as his second.
So, still fucked.
He sits with that for a moment. Izzy has never died before. It holds exactly zero appeal, least of all dying for Stede fucking Bonnet. Just like he refused to do when they first boarded The Revenge. Just like that the wind falls from his own sails.
“If I am to die. Then at least I’ll go out fighting with a good night under my belt.”
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