fandomhigh | So You Want to Be a Pirate!, Wednesday, period two

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pirating

So You Want to Be a Pirate!, Wednesday, period two

The Danger Shop had been programmed into the deck of a classic tall ship, complete with multiple masts and sails, three different deck levels, and way, way too many ropes. There were barrels and crates aplenty for the students to use as desks, so long as they didn't mind said barrels and crates occasionally sliding around as the boat drifted along the swells.

Their teacher showed up a couple minutes late, looking ruffled and disgruntled, and — facial hair aside — not really at all like he should be leading a class called "So You Want to Be a Pirate". He was much too clean, for one, and had all his limbs. He didn't even have a pirate hat on!

"Alright, alright!" he called, as he stumbled backwards through the door. "Fine! I'm here, okay? Call off the damn moose!"

He tripped over a rope, flailed his way through a stumble, and turned to get a full look at his "classroom."

". . . Holy shit. Okay. Sure. This is definitely a thing that's happening."

Such professionalism.

He rubbed a hand over his face and blinked around at the students, then sighed and gathered himself. "Hi. Right. So. Welcome to pirate class. I guess. I'm Duke Crocker. You can call me Duke. The description for this class makes me out to be a pirate, which isn't entirely true? But I'm probably the closest you'll get who's not going to fucking kill any of you, so sure. Why not."

Yeah, he was off to a great start here.

"Um. Okay. So the weirdly gossipy radio station you all have around here makes it sound like introductions are the thing to do the first week, and considering I just got bullied in here by a moose, it's safe to assume I don't have a lesson plan. So introductions it is. Let's go with name, sailing experience, and . . . favorite historical or fictional pirate? Sure. Yeah. That's a plan. I'll . . . go first? I already told you I'm Duke. I grew up in a harbor town, so I've been on boats my whole life, though — not quite ones like this one." He was going to have to look up how to run a damn tall ship, wasn't he. "And as for favorite pirates, I gotta go with Ching Shih. She was a Chinese pirate from the 18th century. Born in poverty, worked as a prostitute, and ended up commanding eighty thousand other pirates in her prime, which is a hell of a success story. They say her first rule of conduct was that anyone giving any orders that didn't come direct from her got beheaded on the spot. Woman did not like insubordination." A beat. "Seriously, you all, pirates will fucking kill you, please don't take to the seas expecting loveable drunks who sing sea shanties. Like, they probably will also get drunk and sing. But, you know. Also there's murder."

He let that hang in the air for a moment, then clapped his hands and pointed to one of the students. "Okay. Now you. Name, sailing experience, favorite pirate. Go."

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Duke had a feeling the guy had been . . . popped out an airlock, or whatever the space pirate equivalent of being made to walk the plank was, but he wasn't about to say so. Let the girl have her hero worship. It probably wasn't hurting anyone.

"Used his powers for good and left mysteriously. A very fine pirate example indeed. Thank you, Vette."

"Hey, I included the fictional option for a reason. Can you tell us more about Captain Omoira? What made her memorable, maybe?"

Theron Shan

"Well!" Elisabeth said, sitting up a little straighter. "She ended up on her first ship by accident, running away from a mob of townsfolk and hiding in a wine barrel. She ended up on the Basilisk as something like a foundling-" which resonated with Elisabeth for Reasons "-getting adopted by the captain, and working her way up to becoming the captain after a sorcerer's curse destroyed the ship and killed most of the crew..."

This was a whole series, Elisabeth could talk about this all day.

And if Duke were sitting at a table, he'd be resting his chin on his hand while he listened.

"What's the title of this book? I think I wanna check it out."

What? It sounded like a good series!

"Theron. I've been knocking about the hyperspace lanes nearly as long as I've been alive." It was what happened when you where raised by a crazy old Jedi. "Which is how I know about the Captain of the Red Hulls."

He paused for effect. "See, someone like Nok Drayen's impressive and all, but that level of infamy's going to lead to a target on your back. Better to be a ghost, and the Captain of the Red Hulls is a ghost, no one even know what species they are, just that ships that hit by them are found floating empty in space, no sign of the crew." Another pause. "Except in the galley's conservator."

Look, he'd come up with the Red Hulls when he was ten and still under the impression there was something cool about cannibalism, rather than just being sad and creepy.

"The first one is called Enter The Witchwood," Elisabeth said, eager. "I've only read the first three but the last time I heard, there were five."

"Well, I am definitely looking that up." Which would be exciting, since he didn't know how to access media from other worlds, yet. "I love a good classic adventure story."

"In the galley's -- that like a fridge or something?" Duke shook his head. "That's . . . very creepy. And a fine example of how pirates can and will fucking kill you. Thank you."

"Up here!" Delirium said cheerfully, leaning out the crow's nest to give Duke a sunny wave and a bright little crow of, "Ahoy, matey! Shiver me timbers! Land aho!"

If he'd spent time chasing her, there was a good chance he'd passed through her Realm a time or two. She didn't recognize him right away but all that meant was that he hadn't spent too much time there. If he was one of hers, eventually she would notice.

Barnabas sighed and watched her go. "You don't have to worry about her falling, no. Little things like 'the laws of gravity' and 'physics' and 'reality' don't apply to her. Even if she fell, she wouldn't get hurt and she can't be killed. It's far more likely the floor would turn into a giant ball pit or a trampoline or something. It's no use telling her to be careful. She doesn't know what careful is."

He inclined his head, "I'm Barnabas. I take care of the Lady Delirium, for such care as can be taken."

Wouldn't they both be surprised to find copies in either Fandom's library or possibly the bookstore in town.

On the other hand, importing books from other worlds that no one else has read? CHOICE.

"Oh you should," Elisabeth assured him. "I cried buckets when Omoira's heart-sister, Nem, was transformed into a tree by a curse at the end of the last book. I can't wait to find out how she fixes it. And how she's going to outmaneuver the blockade set up by the White Forest Trading Company to starve the citizens of Oak Harbor into submission."

Duke would be so into cornering the market on book smuggling.

"Hey, hey, spoilers!" Duke did not look too terribly concerned about spoilers, no. "You gotta let me read some of that for myself, kid!"

Elisbeth clapped a hand over her mouth and nodded.

"I have the first one," she said, spreading her fingers just enough so she could speak. "I can bring it next week?"

"Delirium's not so much just a name for her, is it."

Yeah, you didn't respond to weird magical situations with "I've hallucinated before and it was way better than this" without being at least passingly familiar with Delirium's realm. Though these days he only really sought it out from the safety of his own ship, usually well out to sea.

He gave Barnabas a considering look, then dipped his head in a little bow. "Barnabas. You kinda put a whole new spin on 'service dog'."

He looked back up at the crow's nest, took a deep breath, and thought fuck it. He cupped his hands around his mouth and assumed his very best pirate voice:

"Aye, and you'll be lettin' us know when those filthy enemy currs come'a sailin' up, won't ye, lassy?"

He pressed his hands together over his chest and bowed a little. "Very much appreciated. I'll see if I've got anything on the Cape Rouge I can return the favor with." A pause. ". . . I don't suppose you read Russian?"

"Rushing?" Elisabeth asked, confused. "Like, fast?"

Duke clicked his tongue. "So. That'd be a 'no', then." Though how she'd never even heard of Russian. . . .

"Russian's a language. From -- I guess my version of Earth." He'd get used to having to phrase things that way eventually, right? "Lots of really epic novels have been written in it, but there've been plenty in English, too."

Oh crap. Was her book even going to be in written recognizable English?

"You've caught on quicker than a lot of people who've been directly told," Barnabas said approvingly, "No, it is not just her name. She is the anthropomorphized personification of Delirium." He gave a delicate doggy snort. "She fits in rather well on this island and she seems happy enough here."

A canine grin, tongue lolling for a moment, "My last master was her brother, Destruction. Delirium is easy to care for in comparison. She's almost always happy and that cuts down on the terrible emo poetry by an awful lot."

Delirium heard Duke call up and gave a delighted little laugh. She waved a cutlass - which appeared when she needed one to wave about. "Arrrr! Aye-aye, Captain! I'll be callin' down if I see any scurvy shrimpeaters' sails o'er the horizon!"

She was having the best. day. ever.

Duke had been thinking more along the lines of "she really lived up to her name", but sure. Anthropomorphized state of consciousness. Why not?

"Destruction writes emo poetry?" Duke shook his head. "I can't even be surprised."

He'd reached a very blasé level of shock since Saturday.

He gave Delirium a salute and two thumbs up.

"Aw crap, I'm really going to teach this damn class, aren't I."

If he glanced down at her notes, he'd see she was taking notes in perfectly legible -if slightly messy - English. Granted, with a quill and ink and parchment (and, if asked, she'd say she was writing in Modern Austermeerish), but the text itself was fine.

"Is English the language we're speaking right now?" she checked.

"Lord Destruction effectively went on strike a very long time ago. Closed off his realm and took himself off into hiding. Where he goes, destruction is, so to speak, so he did some damage control. It's left him very bored. He dabbles in hobbies. Writing, painting, poetry." Barnabas gave a shutter, "Good lord, the poetry. It's emo poetry because he's isolated himself from everyone, even his family. He's the loneliest person I've ever met. That's one reason he made me. To have company he couldn't destroy."

He looked up at his tiny mistress. "She misses him quite terribly, when she remembers that he's gone. There's a saying, 'You have to be crazy to seek destruction'. She's the only person who can find him when she needs to. She did, not that long ago. I believe part of my job is to keep her from doing it again, because if she remembers that he's alone, she will. She used to be Delight, you see, and even now she's Delirium, she doesn't want anyone to be unhappy."

He watched Duke with another doggy grin, "At least you won't be bored while teaching this class. Not with her in it."

". . . Yes, it is. Um. What language would you say it was?"

Delirium used to be Delight. And her brother Destruction had ditched her so as not to do anymore damage.

What a deeply depressing worldview. Duke wanted a drink just thinking about it.

"I don't bore easily," he said absently, still looking up at the tiny brightly colored girl playing in the crow's nest. "Right. Well. Guess I'd better actually, like. Plan classes."

And maybe deemphasize the murder warnings a little, let the kids lean into the romanticized pirate play-acting.

Delirium used to be Delight. Fuck, that was going to stick to him.

"Austermeerish," Elisabeth supplied.

Helpfully.

Duke nodded slowly, wondering if there was as much of a logic to that as he thought there might be. "After a place called 'Austermeer', I'm guessing? Don't suppose that's an island nation?"

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