[ There are a lot of reasons for Blackbeard to hang around the tavern beneath the inn. Free drinks, free board, keeping an eye on Stede... maybe mostly that last one. Either way, he feels more at home in the likes of a tavern than anywhere else, still being without his ship. And even if the Girl With the Monkey Tattoo doesn't show, at least he gets all the rest out of it.
He's alone at a table with his feet up on the opposite chair's seat, smoking tobacco from a carved ivory pipe. There's a mostly-full glass of ale to his right with a flintlock pistol and a knife set just beside it, and to his left, a red scrap of old silk rolled up around something. ]
crawls out of con coma.....mom said it's my turn to disappear
[Vi finally comes in, a bottle of liquor in her back pocket. she sees what could only be a scruffy looking guy in the tavern, and she walks over and puts her hand on the table.]
You my tattoo guy?
ahh i'm familiar with post-con drop. hope you had a great time!
[ Though the footfalls and blocked light make her arrival known, and the voice confirms she's the one he spoke to before, Blackbeard doesn't look up or move from his sprawled seat, still sucking away on his pipe. He's very cool, you see. As if the leather-studded with shark's teeth didn't present his image for him well enough.
He does turn his head just slightly in her direction at the question, though. He exhales smoke, and his voice, more so now than on the network, is quiet and rough with ash and age. ]
Might be. You my brandy-bringing gal?
i did i did! it just took a lot more out of me than i expected hahaha
[ Less than the bottle hitting the table or sliding back, the challenge catches Blackbeard's attention enough that he lifts his eyes fully to meet hers. Asking him to perform a service for free is ballsy. He likes that fire of hers, but not enough to agree to shit terms. ]
Pour me a glass for my time, and we'll give it a go, yeah?
[she shrugs. then she goes to the bar and grabs a glass, not exactly a big one, but one nonetheless. she pours some of the brandy into it, and then slides it over to him.]
[ He watches at first to see whether she might be heading out instead, but as she's pouring him that glass, he snuffs out his pipe, returns it to the chest pocket of his jacket and picks the glass right up as soon as it's near him. ]
Enough to get started, yep.
[ He takes a sip from the glass before setting it aside and leaning in towards. ]
Let's see that little monkey pal of yours in the flesh.
[she sits across from him and unwraps her bindings on her hand. when she's done, she flexes her fingers a little, before showing him the brand in person.]
[ Seeing it in person is a bit different from over the magic talking in his head. Blackbeard leans in and reaches out a hand, though he meets her eyes as a silent request for permission before catching her wrist and angling the brand towards himself more directly. It's not just flamingo pink, it's so pink it looks like it's fucking glowing. Maybe it actually is. Do they have glowing ink around this place? How cool is that shit. ]
Know you're not fond of the little guy, but that's a brilliant spot of ink. Wish I could trade you for it myself.
[ He lets her arm go, just in case she still wants to back out. Hadn't even considered it might not cover, before now. ]
Distract how? If it can't get rid of it, what would make it easier to look at for you? A knife through its skull? A little top hat and walking cane?
[Vi doesn't really care too much if he grabs her hand to look at it or not. she doesn't think he'll pull any funny business, and if he does... well, she's gotten herself out of plenty of sticky situations before.
she shakes her head at the comments.]
I'd gladly trade it.
But... hell, I don't know. Maybe something to kind of cover it up? Like...
[she gestures to her neck, which looks to be something that looks like stylized gears.]
[ Touching's kind of a necessary thing for the tattoo part, so it's good to see she allows the contact without flinching. Then, considering all the ink already on her, including her face, likely she knows what she's in for. Does she, though?
He hums, recognizing the mechanical bits on her neck, generally. Easy enough to copy. ]
See what we can do.
[ With that, he lets go of her arm and takes up that glass again, enjoying another sip as he unwraps a little intricately sculpted metal box from beneath the silk. Inside is a collection of sewing needles and other poking devices, and a corked glass bottle of black ink. The red silk gets pocketed again, and then he lays his leather-gloved hand, palm up, on the table and meets the girl's eyes expectantly. ]
Ready to get your skin pricked about a thousand times?
[ The idea that she's got her back done up piques Blacbkeard's interest, always on the lookout for some new artistic inspiration. And the idea to follow, that she might nod off, knocks a surprised laugh out of him. ]
Make it easier for me if you did.
[ He plucks one of the larger needles from the box, and as he holds it over the candle's flame until the metal's burned clean, he takes a few seconds to map out the idea in his head onto her arm over that pink brand. ]
So what's all that mean for you? The mechanical gear-ies? You some sort of metalworker? Clockmaker?
[ It's asked half our of curiosity, and half as a distraction from the first bite of the needle as, once it's cooled, he dips it into the little pot of black ink and begins tapping it, black dots all close together to form a line on her skin. No tattoo guns here; only stick-and-poke with this one. ]
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early may-ish, pre event
He's alone at a table with his feet up on the opposite chair's seat, smoking tobacco from a carved ivory pipe. There's a mostly-full glass of ale to his right with a flintlock pistol and a knife set just beside it, and to his left, a red scrap of old silk rolled up around something. ]
crawls out of con coma.....mom said it's my turn to disappear
You my tattoo guy?
ahh i'm familiar with post-con drop. hope you had a great time!
He does turn his head just slightly in her direction at the question, though. He exhales smoke, and his voice, more so now than on the network, is quiet and rough with ash and age. ]
Might be. You my brandy-bringing gal?
i did i did! it just took a lot more out of me than i expected hahaha
and then pulls it back to herself.]
Only if it actually works.
no subject
Pour me a glass for my time, and we'll give it a go, yeah?
no subject
That enough to start with?
no subject
Enough to get started, yep.
[ He takes a sip from the glass before setting it aside and leaning in towards. ]
Let's see that little monkey pal of yours in the flesh.
no subject
You think you can at least distract from it?
no subject
Know you're not fond of the little guy, but that's a brilliant spot of ink. Wish I could trade you for it myself.
[ He lets her arm go, just in case she still wants to back out. Hadn't even considered it might not cover, before now. ]
Distract how? If it can't get rid of it, what would make it easier to look at for you? A knife through its skull? A little top hat and walking cane?
no subject
she shakes her head at the comments.]
I'd gladly trade it.
But... hell, I don't know. Maybe something to kind of cover it up? Like...
[she gestures to her neck, which looks to be something that looks like stylized gears.]
Something like this.
no subject
Does she, though?He hums, recognizing the mechanical bits on her neck, generally. Easy enough to copy. ]
See what we can do.
[ With that, he lets go of her arm and takes up that glass again, enjoying another sip as he unwraps a little intricately sculpted metal box from beneath the silk. Inside is a collection of sewing needles and other poking devices, and a corked glass bottle of black ink. The red silk gets pocketed again, and then he lays his leather-gloved hand, palm up, on the table and meets the girl's eyes expectantly. ]
Ready to get your skin pricked about a thousand times?
no subject
You should see my back. This'll be nothing in comparison to the stuff I've got going on back there.
[she's definitely been there done that. a lot.]
Might even take a nap while you do it.
cw: needles/tattooing
Make it easier for me if you did.
[ He plucks one of the larger needles from the box, and as he holds it over the candle's flame until the metal's burned clean, he takes a few seconds to map out the idea in his head onto her arm over that pink brand. ]
So what's all that mean for you? The mechanical gear-ies? You some sort of metalworker? Clockmaker?
[ It's asked half our of curiosity, and half as a distraction from the first bite of the needle as, once it's cooled, he dips it into the little pot of black ink and begins tapping it, black dots all close together to form a line on her skin. No tattoo guns here; only stick-and-poke with this one. ]