Is there something I can send you from across the sea

[smokeeasy]

Who: Badou Nails and Gilbert Nightray
What: An unexpected meeting on unexpected high seas.
Where: Aboard the S.S. Saturnia, somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, the Sargasso Sea.
When: October 14, mid-day. (Forward dated.)
Rating and Warnings: PG?

Comments

[corvorum]

Distraught.

It was a good way to describe him, lying on that bed with the back of his hand over his forehead staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling to the room he'd been placed in. In the dim lighting there wasn't much to look at to begin with, but the dire situation only made things worse. Everywhere he looked within the room he saw things that weren't there-faces of people that weren't around. ...Oz...

The words he'd been relayed played over and over within his mind, pressing and pushing against the barriers of believability. The explanation was to the point of being ludicrous, there being absolutely no way that he could have been where he was before only to end up where he was now. Even being swallowed by Raven's darkness provided little comfort in shedding light on what had happened-ships like these didn't exist where he came from. Which meant... what? What was he supposed to believe, supposed to suddenly accept here as facts? That he'd been transported through time again? Somehow fallen into the abyss and emerged at a later date

[smokeeasy]

Well, this was awkward. Not that Badou expected the guy to be chatty, and he knew he shouldn't expect him to recognize him at all--being pulled out of the ocean half drowned, semi-conscious, and wholly disoriented probably weren't the sorts of things that predisposed a guy to remembering faces

[corvorum]

Gilbert indeed let the silence hang in the air until the other broke it. However, once it was broken, all bets of continuing to ignore the newcomer were suddenly off. The question immediately perked him and caused him to slowly turn his attention back to him. For a moment, he studied the other in silence as the offer was left open waiting for a response. Finally, finally he slowly worked his way to sit up, ignoring any discomfort, and glanced down to the floor, giving a small nod. "...Thanks

[smokeeasy]

Oh, so he did remember!

Badou straightened from leaning forward to light the hand-rolled cigarette he'd passed the man, slipping his lighter back into his pocket.

He took a drag on his own smoke before answering, taking in the calm that always came with the inhalation of bad air. Like a balm, it eased what was an otherwise persistent ache in his lungs. It made it seem simple to be nonchalant with his answer, like it really was no big thing, nothing for either of them to worry about.

"Heh, yeah, guess you owe me one." He said it as though no real debt was owed though--if anything, he was talking about the cigarette.

And then his voice took on an edge of earnest wonder and perplexity, as though the dark-haired stranger had deliberately chosen to go for a swim in the mid-Atlantic without a boat in sight, "What in the Sam Hill were you doing out there, man?"