Jack, Silver has learned, is somehow even worse in fancy settings. The problem is that the other pirate has has gone from chatty-with-a-purpose to chatty-because-he's-enabled, which means he'd drawn quite a crowd in the fancy ballroom they're all in at one point. The place seems to be split--there's the people who find them to be dashing adventurers, and those who are convinced they're going to suddenly kidnap someone and hold them ransom. Max is talking to one of her confidants, tucked in a corner of the place's upper floor and looking like she's presiding over the place despite the looks she's receiving from time to time due to the company she and Featherstone brought. She acts like the queen she is, even if some people don't seem to think so.
Really, it all works to their advantages. Silver's not exactly comfortable about the fact that he's here but he's not about to show it, Anne refusing to go. Silver would join her if he wasn't vaguely interested, wanting to see the world Flint once saw regularily. Morbid curiousity he's currently regretting.
They're dressed a little nicer than they usually do, although Silver has his black coat. They stick out like sore thumbs even overlooking the fact that Silver is leaning against a crutch--his missing leg gets whispers, some looks of wonder, some of fear. The looks of pity are the ones that make Silver lean against a pillar instead of take a seat or get a chair. Spite is a powerful motivator.
He passes the time by talking to the ladies that try to chat him up, charming and polite--he even flirts with one back just because her face was particularily red and he wanted to drown out Rackham's stories for a few seconds. Confidence is key and the free alcohol's pleasing. Rackham and Silver have already drank an entire bottle of wine between the two of them like it's absolutely nothing, and Rackham is starting to get worried about Anne when a man approaches them, and Silver looks him over, assessing him. Taller than him, though not by much, a face pleasing to look at.
"I assure you, I'd rather real with actual sharks in this regard," He explains honestly, a smile crossing beared features. "I know how to handle those."
no subject
Really, it all works to their advantages. Silver's not exactly comfortable about the fact that he's here but he's not about to show it, Anne refusing to go. Silver would join her if he wasn't vaguely interested, wanting to see the world Flint once saw regularily. Morbid curiousity he's currently regretting.
They're dressed a little nicer than they usually do, although Silver has his black coat. They stick out like sore thumbs even overlooking the fact that Silver is leaning against a crutch--his missing leg gets whispers, some looks of wonder, some of fear. The looks of pity are the ones that make Silver lean against a pillar instead of take a seat or get a chair. Spite is a powerful motivator.
He passes the time by talking to the ladies that try to chat him up, charming and polite--he even flirts with one back just because her face was particularily red and he wanted to drown out Rackham's stories for a few seconds. Confidence is key and the free alcohol's pleasing. Rackham and Silver have already drank an entire bottle of wine between the two of them like it's absolutely nothing, and Rackham is starting to get worried about Anne when a man approaches them, and Silver looks him over, assessing him. Taller than him, though not by much, a face pleasing to look at.
"I assure you, I'd rather real with actual sharks in this regard," He explains honestly, a smile crossing beared features. "I know how to handle those."