piratejournal

Entry tags:

aokiji,
rogue

voice

[well... he did talk about this to...someone(?) at some point he faintly remembers. He hears a few new voices so perhaps it's time to help orient people the best he can. He doesn't imagine he'll be able to cut down on the chaos but--perhaps]

Welcome, new people...I suppose.

If you have any questions that can't be solved by common sense... I guess I can answer them. [scratches the back of his head] There's a lot I don't know. Or...maybe there's not a lot to know?

Well, it doesn't matter. This is a welcoming committee of sorts.

I'm Aokiji. [though saying he was one or the other didn't really matter in this environment...but perhaps there were Marines from home? It would help them feel more at ease]

Try to stay out of trouble.

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[Okay, the books are kind of like phones. She can deal with that. It's weird, but it's communication.]

Welcomin' committee, huh? This kinda thing happen a lot?

About once a month for almost a year, or so I've been told. Other than the poem [which he assumes she's done her homework and read] no one can really figure out why.

[especially since he tends to send key people back just as prodigiously as he brings ill-suited people over]

Huh. So a pretty regular thing. That's interestin', at least.

[It brings her no closer to understanding it, but it's information.]

Not helpful but it at least seems he requires a steady supply.

[a pause] Do you have any plans?

He?

[Oh, now there's something interesting. There's a force behind this. Something that has enough of a presence (maybe) to be given a gender.]

Davy Jones. Currently incorporeal... or so we've been lead to believe.

For what it's worth, I don't believe anyone is lying. [he's met a wide variety of liars, more in the Marines than out of them, and can usually spot it. What it means is that they believe it... Though the actual truth of it? Well that's something harder to guess.]

["Davy Jones." Legend. But legends weren't always false.
"Incorporeal." That just made it worse.

Because she has a theory. One that settles like lead in her stomach.]

Huh.

[The one word -- sound, really -- is almost guarded. She's choosing her next words carefully.]

Don' s'pose you could give me the Cliff's Notes version of what's known 'bout him, could ya?

I can't offer much. Unfortunately historical and mythological research has never been my forte.

I do know he exists, or a being that people claim is him. I've heard that those who are brought here like us are brought back to life should they die, again, attributed to his influence but I've neither seen nor experienced it myself. Apparently he has some control over the weather? But I'm less sure about that.

Hey, jus' that's more than I knew when I got here. Thanks.

[Life and death. Control of the weather.

That leaves a definite impression in her mind and drives home the prevailing theory all the more.]

No problem.

[it seems she's done... but, now that he remembers]

One last word of advice, young miss. The Navy here is hostile to all, what they term "outworders". Do not expect anything but violence should you approach them.

Avoid military. Great.

[She might have sighed a bit at that.]

But, thanks for the warnin'. Got some of that at home, so... not too surprisin'. Just a little disappointin' an' all.

[Oh. Right. He gave his name on his little welcome, so--]

'M Rogue, by the way.

[he's curious about that second statement, but ultimately decides it would be better for him not to know. Thinking about the condition of two worlds' militaries was strenuous enough.]

Pleasure.

[and then, even if he already said, it bore repeating]

Stay out of trouble.

I'll try to. Most I can promise, 'm afraid.

[he hums in acknowledgement. For now it seems the conversation is at an end, but he'll leave the journal open in case]

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