of arrivals, memories regained and strange metal beasts. Did we also mention the time travel?

[honorandbrocade]

Location: unceremoniously dumped in the middle of Main Street, Aternaville
Time: afternoon (you know what they say about mad dogs and Englishmen…^_^)
Characters: (Admiral) Sir Edward Pellew, Commodore James Norrington, and whoever else happens to be wandering by.
Public, Private, or Semi-Private: very, very public. (it’s in the middle of the main

Comments

continued from below/above/wherever.

[indiepellew]

"What, sorry that the Admiralty has no taste when it comes to designing uniform hats, or sorry because you are about to do something unspeakable to it?" Sir Edward said, rather flippantly. "But that is indeed my best hat. We Admirals are also permitted a plainer version for everyday use, which has considerably less gold lace." He shrugged. "I had it with me, but I dare say it is...well, wherever the rest of my belongings are at the moment."

[indiepellew]

((sorry, I edited this a bit ;( Gosh, you're quick! :D))

[moirabyrne]

((lol it's okay, I'll delete. I just started my break from four and a half hours of chem studyage so i was all ZOMG TAG))

((moving on down to the Norrie & Simon thread?))

[indiepellew]

"A world which has no place for the Commodore, does not bear thinking about," Sir Edward joked. He started to move off, but turned back to look at Moira. "You should come along too, Miss Niall. It could either be amusing or rather painful to watch." He paused. "Judging from those two, it may well turn out to be both."

((sure!))

[moirabyrne]

Moira hesitated for only half a moment. "Sure. You're probably right. And honestly, you can call me Moira."

[indiepellew]

"If you insist, Miss...I mean, Moira."
This was something unheard of in Sir Edward's time (except among very close friends and family), but he supposed society had changed much since then. Remembering that Miss Niall..sorry, Moira, had said that the current time was in her past - well, this could only mean that things might have changed even more.

Regardless, he could still try and act the gentleman. He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

[moirabyrne]

Moira smiled. She didn't realize how odd it was to him. She came from 20 years in the future and when she was called Miss it either reminded her of school (although the teachers there were witches of the coven and even THEY were called by first name and called Moira by first name unless she misbehaved) or that she was old. And at twenty, she did not feel old. Moira then nodded, taking his arm.

[honorandbrocade]

"The particular fellow I had in mind was a pirate," came the reply. "I rather suppose you would consider that a good thing."

[saintlysimon]

Simon considered this point thoughtfully, stroking his chin and gazing at a cloud roughly forty-five degrees northeast of Norrington's head; then met the Navy man's eyes again. "The only drawback to being a pirate which I can think of is the relative lack of hygiene. Highwaymen, now, they had all the advantages of the buccaneering trade and could afford to scrub under their fingernails fortnightly; also their sworn enemies wore red with neat white targets crossed over their hearts, which is much easier to see coming than blue even adorned with any amount of gold lace. Still, perhaps your friend ALoysius had his reasons for taking the high seas instead of the highway - maybe he was allergic to horses or something; or maybe he was prone to seasickness, and wanted to conquer his fear by facing it. Ours not to question why," he finished up grandly.

I think you just broke his brain :D

[honorandbrocade]

Perhaps Norrington had the man read wrongly. After all, he could fairly easiy deal with the likes of Sparrow, usually with some well barbed remark. But then again, the pirates he usually dealt with were not so...verbose.
It was rather unsettling, that all he could do was stare at the man, and all he could come up with in return was a "...I don't believe Sparrow has been seasick."

He'd never seen Sparrow ride, either, come to think of it. Then again, horses were not exactly commonplace in a mostly seafaring town like Port Royal.

My inner 12-year-old greatly desires to make a comment about Norrington, Sparrow and "riding"

[saintlysimon]

"Bad experience with a pony at a young age, then," pronounced Simon with evident satisfaction at having solved the mystery. "Our dear Captain Norrington, James, had a friend of piratical fame, whose life found its course when he was bit by a horse in a place that we don't like to name. I'm speaking of Swansea, of course - where were you thinking?"

ohhh nononono....*attempts to ward off with a stick* not here!

[honorandbrocade]

"Possibly," he agreed grudgingly. "Though I highly doubt that Sparrow has even seen a pony, let alone know what to do with it." He frowned. "And it's Commodore Norrington to you, sir. And since you know so much about myself already, it is only polite to reciprocate." He looked at Simon rather pointedly. "A name would be a good place as any to start."

((if Simon's already introduced himself and I've somehow missed it, then...we'll just have to work around it :p))

no, no, he hadn't. he's rather horrid about that. (and "Bond - James Bond" was actually a ripoff!)

[saintlysimon]

He'd have made something up if Moira weren't there - she'd heard his real name before ((I think, I get confused about what threads happened when)). Ah, well. "'Commodore' had too many syllables, honeybunch. And my name is Templar - Simon Templar."

I was half expecting him to make something up, actually.

[honorandbrocade]

"Well then, Mister Templar, perhaps you can be of some assistance after all." He paused. "It looks like we might be here for a while, and if you happen to know of any suitable accommodation in this town..."

I wanted him to, I really did. Solomon Tumbleweed, Lord Mayor of Maplethorpe or something.

[saintlysimon]

"If you get to insist upon Commodore, I want to insist upon Lord," Simon protested; and thought a moment about exactly how annoying he felt like being right at the moment, and then, with inspiration - "I don't know how you define suitable, darling-bee, but I seem to recall having seen a 'to let' sign on a house somewhere."

The house in question just happened to be next door to his. Please, please, please, let them take it. Oh, please. He would be such a good boy, Santa, and not ask for anything else at all this Christmas. Moira, don't you dare mention the apartments, because this is Uncle Simon's Birthday Wish.