#realisticdialogue

"I want you to paint me like one of your French girls, Jack." Rose said. They were hiding out in one of the many ubiquitous, glaringly obvious corners of the ship where people in movies hid out.

The one thing Jack had learned since he'd been aboard the ship was that it didn't seem to really matter where you were--despite the fact the ship was more ridiculously over-populated than a New Orleans street on Mardi Gras--it sure had a lot of spots you could talk to a woman in a crappy relationship that pretty much everybody of the hoity-toity variety seemed to know without getting interrupted.

"Actually, they're Scandinavian," he said. "French girls are way too hairy for my purposes... Plus I can't understand them."

"Well, whatever then." Rose said, giving him a look as if to say he was completely missing the point. "Paint me like one of your Scandinavian girls, Jack."

Jack chuckled. "But... You're not Scandi--"

"I want to you draw me naked." 

"Ooooooh!" Jack said. He laughed and slapped his knee. "See, I thought you wanted me to draw you like you were Scandinavian."

"No," Rose said. "I want you to draw me naked, and be very professional about it in case I ever have to reminisce this story to someone, because otherwise I'm just going to come off as skanky."

"Well, you are considering having an affair with me despite your scary, domineering fiance guy who if we're being historically accurate should not be in the position he's in, considering his ethnic origins and the fact that it's 1912."

"But he's cast like that specifically to snub a nose in that kind of thinking."

"Sure," Jack said. "Because every ambiguously white/not-white guy in a movie makes it aware of race issues. And since we're on the subject of human rights all of a sudden--what about your rights, Rose?"

"Huh?"

"Yeah," Jack said. "It's the early 1900's and you're a woman and you're insanely oppressed--in both your relationship and in the world in general because men are still idiots."

"I know that, that's why I'm slowly falling for you," she said.

"Right, and your first act in rebelling against your oppressive state of affairs is to ask me to draw you naked, which completely objectifies you and basically says the only way we can start an affair is if you present yourself as a sexual fantasy for me? Holy-moly talk about irony."

"Hush," she said. "Someone might hear you." She pulled him in close, but he ripped away and paced a circle on the deck.

"Maybe I want to be heard, huh? Did you ever think of that, Rose?"

He jumped up on the railing of the ship, holding his arms out to the seething ocean like a powerful wizard with a floppy haircut. "I'm the king of the world," he cried out. "And the world is full of idiots, and they're all freaking out over a diamond, rather than this wonderful woman."

"Jack," she said.

"King!" he cried out. People along the deck were beginning to look.

"Jack," she said. "Do you wanna see my boobs?"

"Well, yeah." he said.

"Then get down from there."

"But I'm the king of the--"

"How about we go find a conveniently placed car on the ship, then we can sneak in and you can bang me in it until the glass fogs up and we'll draw the attention of some of the crew, but fantastically escape without ever having a moment to foresee them coming." she said.

Jack looked back at her from the railing, steadying himself on one of the lines running down from the smoke stacks. He raised an eyebrow.

"Were you even listening to what I was saying a minute ago?"

"I zoned out a little when I started thinking about sex," she said.

Jack hopped back down to the deck and grabbed her hand.