Captain Davy Jones

According to pop culture, there was a certain stereotype out there that said pirates loved rum, and a certain pirate in particular always seemed to be lamenting the absence of said beverage. Sure Davy was… well… probably centuries old so would have had more than enough time to be exposed to other drinks. That only made Molly wonder where the woman had come from. Before she became the guardian of the souls of those lost at sea. Or, however that legend actually went.

Giving the captain a bright smile, Molly nodded. “Davy it is then. I would say we’ve reached an accord, but that just sounds so…. weird.” Her nose wrinkled a little as she considered that. As much fun as the “Pirates of the Caribbean” franchise was, it was more than a little likely that a great deal of creative liberties had been taken. Perhaps not as much with costuming and style of dress, but very likely with some of the living conditions. There was a slightly awkward pause as she tried to figure out the best way to ask the next question that was on her mind. Tact was something that the new Winter Lady was still getting the hang of, as such, it wasn’t her strongest skill. “So… uhmm… when did you become…. you know… you?”

There was bound to be a story behind that, which meant that she might have something of a reprieve from introducing the undead? Pirate captain to some of the other supernatural beings at the event. “I am more than happy to introduce you to those that I can Naturally, I don’t yet know everyone, but you’ll get to meet people as we make our way around.” And then there were those that they could avoid. Certain people that Molly really wasn’t excited to be seeing due to recent events, for example. So long as Davy didn’t directly ask, those people could be skipped as being unknown.

Hopefully.

Pulling her companion up to a stop at one of the refreshment tables, Molly’s eyes flickered over the offerings. It seemed that most people had gravitated towards the other beverages, which meant that several varieties of mead were still on the table. The traditional honey mead, naturally, but also some flavored meads, each one labeled as to what they were. “Looks like we’re in luck!”“ She said with a bright smile. "Grab a couple before they’re gone. I’ve heard it said that good company and good drinks make every story better, so we’ll drink, and I’ll fill you in a bit more.” Unlinking her arm from Davy’s, Molly picked up one of the strawberry and blueberry meads, eyes moving from the captain to the table curiously. The two flavors she’d picked up smelled delicious. The question became if Davy would be more of a traditional sort, or more adventurous?

“Oh, gods. Color, definitely! Weird as it sounds, I don’t remember the last time I watched a black and white movie. Maybe when I was a kid and we watched ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ around Christmas, but even then that one was colorized.” Giving a thought to Davy’s question, she replied somewhat slowly. “I guess in her own way, Leia was a warrior. She certainly had no problem taking charge whenever the boys seemed uncertain about what should be done. She was at first presented as more of a diplomat, but when it came down to it, she wasn’t afraid to jump in and get her hands dirty. I think..” she paused, chewing her lower lip gently, “that’s part of what I like about that setting so much. Princess, scoundrel or space magician, everyone did their own thing and did it well. No one was really expected to conform to one stereotype or other.”

Taking a small sip of the strawberry mead, the liquid rolling all over her tongue so that she could catch all the flavors. Blue eyes moved back to David as her head tilted slightly, “Mary Read? Wasn’t she one of the famous pirates during the Golden Age of piracy?” Her eyes widened a little bit with excitement “Did you know her?”

“Mead is good.” Shrugged Davy. “I can acquire nearly everything else easily nowadays.” 

And that little fact made cider and wine much less special than they’d been when she’d been young. She had much more to choose from, in truth, but short of heading no Northern Europe she rarely found mead she liked.

“And if an accord sounds weird, then let’s just call it an agreement.” She offered, before her smile became a smirk as Molly asked her next question. Davy guessed it was fair, in a way: she knew the Fae Queen was very young and very recent in her position, and yet... 

“It’s been a few centuries.” Davy conceded. “I was young when sea shanties were pop culture.” She laughed. “I was not the first Davy, though, that I can tell you.” 

She could have been a bit more forthcoming with her age, she knew it, but she tended to lose track of years occasionally. After the first two centuries, time worked in a funny way.

The Winter Lady and her lucky finding pulled the captain out of her thoughts and Davy found herself surrounded by options. 

“Call it experience.” She said, grinning as she went for the most traditional flavor and thanked the person in charge. “Good company and good drinks definitely embellish even good stories.” She added, before tasting the mead. It was good and for a second she felt young again, remembering slow afternoons playing cards with fellow officers on the deck of the Flying Dutchman, while she’d still had another name. Who could have guessed, by then, that it would be machines who’d relay the legends in the future. 

“A diplomat warrior... I like that.” Davy nodded. “It’s always a good skill to be able to throw down, if needed.” 

And then Molly asked about Mary and Davy grinned. 

“Yes. Her and Anne, both famous, and a few more men and women that made sailing the seas an adventure. They were brave, they became legends in their own right.” She added, as she headed towards a little wooden cabin that sported a few tables, not all of them full. “I only met Mary once, though. I had a lot of work by then.” 

Considering most of her recent experiences in “new” had been extremely unconventional by most people’s standards, something a little more ordinary seemed like a rare and novel treat.

Molly had been at the event long enough to see familiar faces and make the polite rounds of expected greetings, but had been somewhat thankful to find herself by and large being left alone. The one person she’d rather hoped would be there hadn’t yet presented themselves, but she supposed that shouldn’t really surprise her. Though it was probably written in the by laws of the position somewhere that the Winter Knight was supposed to escort the Queens to various events, it wasn’t something she would have ever asked of her former mentor. Harry had a thing about Halloween, and she figured she was woman enough to handle anything that came along at a party where violence was expressly forbidden.

Davy invited the fae wizard to walk with her and to the Lady, it seemed like a good idea. It would give her the opportunity to get to know the overseer of the infamous Locker. Or at least to get a measure of her person.

Linking her arm through Davy’s somewhat brazenly, she grinned. “It’s strange how these things work out. If you’d like a run down of who’s who, I can point out some of the more interesting people. Naturally, there are people I don’t know, but I’m sure that will eventually be rectified if it’s deemed important enough. So, I will accept your offer of walking with you, if you will accept my company and agreed to please call me ‘Molly’. That whole 'Lady’ bit seems too formal, and this just doesn’t really seem to be the time or place for that.” Her words came even as she started to walk, the steps slow and meandering at first so that the other woman could refuse if she wanted to. Molly didn’t really think there was going to be any resistance, though, as the walking had been the Captain’s suggestion to begin with. “I will, however, extend an invitation to you, in turn.Nothing scary, I promise.”

Her head turned a bit so that she could give Davy a sidelong look, mischief bright in her blue eyes. “Your knowledge of pop culture is…. really awful, but I’d like to help remedy that. The moment can be anytime, really, so long as I’m home because I’ve really got the perfect setup for watching awesome things.” Not that she was really home often enough to use it. “So, mead first and once we’re a good few swallows in, I will give you the story of Princess Leia Organa of Alderon, her twin brother Luke Skywalker and the adventures of the Rebellion she helped lead to victory against the evil Empire.” Or, a shorter version of the original Star Wards trilogy. “Now that I think back on it, Princess Leia was really one of the first truly strong female role models I had.” Outside of her mother, naturally, but that was for totally different reasons.

“In the event we cannot find something to our liking, I may know a person or two who still brew their mead. We’ll see.” She offered. 

She didn’t know many among those who served Odin or Freya, but she’d never been in bad terms with that pantheon either. They were warriors and Davy could respect them easily. 

The Captain arched an eyebrow at the Winter Lady’s movement, reflecting her grin with a smile closer to a smirk. Most Fae she’d met tended to keep her distance and do the whole cold and regal thing. It was nice to find some variance at last and it took Davy less than a moment to follow the other woman’s pace.

“Very well, Molly, but you shall call me Davy then. It will be jolly if you can introduce me to the younger members of this circle, and I will do the same for those who have been alive for longer.”

Or not exactly alive, like her, but not dead either. She doubted there would be many vampires around, but she still had some acquaintances in those Courts. Ah, the game of politics. Always a matter of knowing, introducing and visiting people, which she tended to forget to do.

“I accept your invitation. There is not much that I fear, I assure you.” She replied. “And learning new tales is always enjoyable. Honest question, is the legend of Luke and Leia in color or are they yet to move from black and white?”

Davy had heard about new technologies, but she never could be sure it wasn’t one of her crewmembers pulling her leg. What Molly was saying sounded interesting, though. 

“Was Leia Organa a warrior then? And don’t they talk anymore about Mary Read? Or Ching Shih?”

Funny though it might be, it would be rather unfortunate if the small people known as children were to find something of the adult variety to drink. Molly bit her lip to keep from grinning a bit. Not something that would have happened in her house growing up, but things had changed a little for her since then.

“Well, cider is good too. I’m going to guess it’s of the standard sparkling variety, and not the type that comes in anywhere between five and thirteen percent?” She nearly gave the woman an even wider grin, one that might have threatened to become a somewhat dazzling smile, until the words “Star Gate comic” hit her ears. Her eyes closed as she winced, nose wrinkling. It took a great deal of restraint to keep from giving Davy “the look”.

“Uhmm… no. If you haven’t seen the movie this comes from, we’ll have to find some time and rectify that. Not…. an offer I’d make normally,” roommates, and Mantles and such, “but your name is oddly familiar to me.” If the woman calling herself Davy was who she suspected she might be, she’d understand the reference. “No tentacles.”

“I have just arrived.” Davy admitted, “So you may still be right in that there is mead to be found.”

All things considered, she was much more used to smaller spaces, to the comfort of the Dutchman and the familiar space it presented. She hadn’t been to many modern parties, and maybe she should have considered bringing someone from the living crew with her. She’d have to manage by herself. 

“Although the cider is strong.” She added, halfway towards a lazy smile that somewhat vanished after the other woman winced. Maybe the Star Gate thing had been a book, and not a comic? 

She got the answer soon enough, frowning lightly at the mention of movies. She’d been delaying getting something to play movies in her cabin for some decades now and these were the consequences. Davy was, moreover, on the way to remark that many legends spoke her name when the last words from the other woman got her full attention. The smile that had grown smaller widened now and Davy laughed, the sound coarse yet joyous. 

But he was determined not to feel too discouraged. If anything, it seemed like a perfectly good opportunity to get to know some of those unfamiliar faces. And the people they were attached to, naturally.

He hadn’t exactly put a whole lot of effort into his costume, which consisted rather sparsely of feathery wings, a waist wrap, and sandals, but attending had been something of a last minute decision, and the wings were borrowed anyway. Besides, the inherent contradiction of a vampire masquerading as an angel amused him, and that was about all the motivation he really needed.

He’d only just discovered the dance floor, and there wasn’t a whole lot happening there yet, but there was music playing, and what more did one need?

A partner, obviously.

His eyes scanned the area, passing over the couples and the more grumpy looking attendees, and then he spotted a pretty brunette he’d never seen before. She was dressed in what looked like it was supposed to be highly realistic ancient armor, and it gave her a sort of Xena vibe that he found appealing. He approached her and flashed her a brilliant smile.

“Hey,” he said by way of greeting, offering her a hand. “Up for a dance?”

It didn’t seem to be a cold night, not that Davy would have noticed. The sky seemed clear, the breeze felt cool against her face and the lack of salt in the air was a welcome change, if only for a while. And yet, as lovely as the night was, she wouldn’t have dreamed of wearing only a waist wrap and a set of wings. At least the smile matched the look. 

Davy took a moment to consider it, then took the offered hand. She didn’t recognize his face, but there was something about him that seemed familiar. Maybe she’d met an ancestor of his, maybe he just looked like someone on the Crew or maybe she’d simply forgotten his face, it was probably not all that important. 

“Yes, why not.” She laughed. “Who’d say no to an angel?”

His hand felt nicely warm against hers, as if to remind Davy that her own would probably be as cold as the rain in a storm. 

“So, what can you dance?” She asked him, taking a few steps towards the dance floor. “I can do the thing they do this century, but there are other alternatives.”

Besides. It might be fun! If that were the case, she’d be able to enjoy herself and the atmosphere, rather than worry about how she was going to rescue a friend.

Once the decision to attend had been made, it was finding the right costume that was going to be the hard part. Her hair was nearly pale enough that she could go as that one chick from Game of Thrones, but Glamouring herself into clothing that was perfect down to every last detail almost seemed to be cheating to her. No, it would be far easier to find something and see if she couldn’t get a little help from some friends to put it together right.

Needless to say, when her Slave Leia costume was finished, it was on point, from the shoes right up to the metal bikini. Fortunately, the craftspeople who’d helped her out were true artisans so what might have been uncomfortable was surprisingly easy to wear. No chafing involved! A light Glamour had turned pale blonde hair dark for the event, and Molly had been surprised to find that she didn’t look awful as a brunette. Maybe that was just another part of the Mantle of Winter.

Glancing about a bit, she caught sight of a few people she recognized, but no one she really wanted to go talk to. Yet. Maybe that would change later. A woman dressed as a Viking caught her attention, and her eyes narrowed slightly. The costume was nice…. probably authentic from the look of it, and the woman wasn’t someone she knew. Or knew of. Interesting.

Making her way that direction, keeping the end of her chain in one hand lest it swing around and hit people, Molly tried to remember to look pleasant. Looking approachable was helpful in any social situation. Fortunately, the Viking was over by one of the refreshment tables, so starting up a conversation shouldn’t be too hard. “Nice threads. I just got here so haven’t really had a chance to look around yet. Do you think they’ve got any mead? I’ve always wanted to try that.”

As Davy waited she was able to recognize a few of the costumes, even if the overwhelming majority escaped her knowledge. It was an interesting game to play with herself as she took note of those that were or weren’t there. It was also getting tedious, so she was lucky to find someone was coming towards her, dressed in an outfit that Davy had probably seen somewhere, even if she couldn’t remember when or where.

“Mead? I hope so, but so far I’ve only found cider.” She admitted, her laughter honest. “But if there’s mead to be found, it will probably be around here. I’d kill for some.” It was not an exaggeration. She hadn’t gotten drunk in centuries due to her mantle but she could still enjoy some basic pleasures of life. “And thank you, your garb is also really well made. Is it from that... Star Gate comic?” Davy tried, as her mind finally managed to get a hold at some useful information, even if only partially.