dishonests | ◤eudio, cuddlr◢

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◤eudio, cuddlr◢

CASSIDY HAWKING (21)

pirate captain — from the 18th century — will plunder your treasure, shiver your timbers, and jolly your roger.

✓ ✕

YES / MATCH / TICK

NO / TICK

[ as he tips his glass against his lips, he takes slightly more than a sip. the saccharine, faintly chemical taste of coke is one to which he's grown accustomed between this time and his first time in eudio. one of the earliest lessons a sailor learns is not to be picky about his choice of drink. the drinks he's had in this city, strange though some of them have seemed, have been by and large improvements over the drinks of his time ( which have on occasion included stale water, raw eggs, tobacco, and gunpowder ). his drinking partners here also tend to be improvements over those in his time.

he may not understand the culture surrounding the martini, but it seems to suit roxy somehow. for a brief moment, he's distracted by her fingers around the base of the glass stem. his gaze returns to her face just in time to catch the sight of her tongue between her lips. that, as it turns out, is even more of a distraction. he raises his glass once again to hide the way his mouth curves at the corners.

as he considers the answer to her question, his eyes wander to a distant corner of the pub. in light of recent events, his sense of time has become a little fuzzy. he taps his fingers on the side of his glass, counting the months, before glancing at roxy. ] Nigh half a year, if I recollect. The last weeks was spent at sea, exploring the small islands that be surrounding this one, and the like.

[ after that, it gets even fuzzier. he went to sleep one night in his small boat; the next morning he woke up on his ship. ]

Since then, seven months have came and went. It's like as I blinked, and by my blood, here I be, back in this strange place.

[ Due to her profession - her actual profession and not the one she claims and uses as a front -, Roxy's made a habit of noticing the finer details, had the practice drilled into her in the small amount of military training she went through, and then perfected it during her time in Kingsman. So the small quirk of Cassidy's lips doesn't necessarily go unnoticed, even with his drink positioned near-perfectly to hide it, but she doesn't bring attention to it either since she's not quite sure of the reason for it. But it's noted.

Her gaze drops to his fingers again as they drum lightly against the side of his glass, drawn by the movement and the dull glitter of his rings, though her distraction is very brief and she forces herself to look Cassidy in the eye when he speaks, giving him her attention. Her brows draw together slowly as more questions begin to form, but she sorts them quickly and prioritises.

Roughly six months is a fairly long time to live anywhere that's not home. To be away from people you care about, to be away from what you know. But it's not the longest she's heard of anyone being here - Eggsy's been here for a year, apparently. And though Eudio is similar to London in some ways and not similar at all in others, she's glad to have Eggsy here. One less thing to miss, one more thing to make it feel like home. Harry and Merlin help, too.

Roxy glances away briefly to collect her thoughts. ] Nearly half a year, and seven months in between then and now. And you remember all of it, while I have no recollection of anything at all of this place.

[ It's not accusatory, not (terribly) suspicious, she's just - talking out loud, voicing her intrigue and curiosity, trying to work out a reason why she can't remember anything while also trying to accept that she's never going to find a reason at all. For a girl who likes to be on top of and aware of most things, the thought is a little unsettling.

But at least she's decent at keeping most of that out of her expression.

Carefully, she reaches out, her fingers pressing lightly around his glass as she lifts it and shifts it over an inch or two onto one of the few paper coasters left scattered on the table, and says nothing of it as she draws her hand back and lets it settle at the base of her own glass. She tilts her head and presses her lips together, seeming to pause or hesitate for a moment before she asks: ]

Did you get what you wanted? When you left. Whatever it was that you asked for - did they give it to you?

[ compared to some of the volunteers, cassidy's first time in eudio was brief. but it was far longer than he'd planned on spending in the city. the real danger of a place like this was that a person could grow so complacent they forgot why they came in the first place. the moment he realized that was the moment he also realized he had to leave, even at the risk of losing whatever memories he'd made. there had been too much at stake for him back home, and he may be guilty of many things, but failing in his duties to his crew is not one.

( not purposefully, at least. )

he watches her slide his glass onto a coaster, and this time he doesn't hide his grin. in his time, a coaster is a type of sailing vessel, and water rings on tables are the least of people's concerns. he wishes he had an explanation for her amnesia — why she doesn't remember being here before and he does — partly so he could ease her worry, but mostly because he doesn't like being in the dark. they're alike in that sense.

but if her memory loss makes him at all anxious, he hides it well. what he fails to hide is the way his expression turns a shade more sober at her question. when he lifts his glass to take another drink, the paper coaster flutters, stuck to the bottom.

he swipes the back of his hand across his mouth before he answers. ] Aye, to be sure. The items what were stolen from me were returned forthwith, God rot the bones of the sneaking leech who stole them. [ the last part is said with considerable heat. he downs a little more of his drink, then thunks it on the table and looks at roxy. ] Thing of it is, the world's full of scugs and Judases, Miss Morton, and it's thanks to their like that I be here again.

[ he lifts his glass again in a mock toast, before draining it until less than an inch remains at the bottom. his smile is a knife, sharp and pointed. he wants to ask if she received her incentive when she went back, but of course she wouldn't know. so he says instead, ]

If I may make so bold, what manner of trouble brung you here?

[ Roxy's brow lifts a fraction of an inch, just a small upward tick at the way his tone shifts when he talks about what he was last here for. It's interesting to her that he'd be so passionate about something being stolen from him when he was just talking about the benefits of stealing from other people, but she makes no comment on that just yet. It's different, she supposes, when it's being done to you - even if she doesn't entirely agree with that sentiment.

She doesn't know what a scug is, but the reference to Judas is enough for her to make inferences and piece together a basic idea of the reason for Cassidy's second visit to the city - betrayal. Roxy watches him finish his drink and takes a careful sip of her own, her eyes focused on him over the rim of her glass even as he smiles at her.

As she lowers her drink back onto the table, she considers her answer, picking at the peeling edge of a coaster with the edge of her thumbnail. She glances away only briefly, down at her hand, and then offers a small shrug of her shoulders and a soft smile as she looks back up.

It's not bold, not to her, but that doesn't mean she isn't about to consider lying to him. Which is unfortunate only in the fact that she doesn't actually want to lie to him for whatever reason, but being completely honest would lead to questions which would lead to more careful lying to protect Kingsman and everyone in it. ]

I want to save the world. [ She says it quietly, makes it sound like she's joking or being ironic, and the way she smiles makes it almost that convincing. It's the truth, in a sense. Roxy and Eggsy and Merlin may have already saved the world once, but not before thousands if not millions were injured or killed because Valentine thought making everyone kill each other would somehow make the world a better place. That's what she wants to prevent.

But it's not the only thing she asked for, and this she can say with a bit more ease, like this is her real answer. ] I asked for the protection of my family.

[ no one sees themselves the villain of their own story. pirates are no exception. they all have things they tell themselves so they can sleep at night, some of them possibly even justifiable. in this instance, cassidy wouldn't have been so incensed about being robbed if the items taken from him hadn't been his most valuable, and if the person who took them hadn't been someone he used to care about greatly. the crime against him, in addition to thwarting his carefully laid plans, stirred up the pain and humiliation of an old betrayal. it left him in such a state of desperation that when he was offered a way to fix it, he took it.

and it was fixed as promised. for a while, it seemed like everything was going to turn out all right. but maybe that was just cassidy showing his age. either way, it was that false sense of security that landed him right back here, asking a steeper favor than last time.

but he tamps all that down. roxy's presence helps, as does the alcohol ( of which he's going to need more, very soon ). for now, he swirls the little bit of dark liquid that remains at the bottom of his glass as he listens to roxy's answer. the first one makes him smile, more of a smirk, really, but it's happier and more amused than the one before it. he never got much of her story before; some things, it seems, never change. he's just going to have to try a little harder.

at the second answer, what seems to be the true answer, his look softens. he leans forward, one of his necklaces — the only one not made of gold and silver, with a heavy pendant on it — dangling in the v of his shirt. ] That's a nobler venture, if you ask me, lass. Most the world's not worth saving, you see.

[ sitting back again, he downs the very last of his drink. ]

Pray tell me, what is it they're needing protection from?

[ Roxy's eyes are drawn by the subtle movement of his necklace as it swings forward and stands out from all the rest, framed in the collar of his shirt. There's nothing particularly interesting about it by itself, save for the fact that it's not quite as.. glittery as the rest of his jewelry. Or maybe it is interesting, and that's the exact reason why.

Roxy doesn't linger on it for too long. She look up at him again, her eyes narrowing slightly, not necessarily out of annoyance but perhaps a point of disagreement. She doesn't say anything right away, taking a moment instead to consider and acknowledge that he's welcome to his own opinion, and that his view may be influenced by the ways of his own time. ]

Why do you say that? That most of the world's not worth saving. Everyone is worth saving, to someone. There are far more good people than there are bad in the world, and I'd rather save the entire world than watch it all fall to pieces because a handful of people in the scope of millions don't know how to appreciate a human life.

[ Which is a difficult thing to say truthfully, because Roxy is not innocent of killing people by any means. She may not have been the one in Valentine's base, fighting off his men by any means necessary (that was Eggsy), and she may not have been the one to reverse the purpose of the microchips Valentine had inserted into the heads of every person he considered 'worth saving' (that was Merlin), but she was still a part of the team who made those calls, so it still falls on her shoulders in a way. And had she been Merlin or Eggsy, she probably wouldn't have done anything differently. It's her job to protect those who need protecting, and to take out anyone who threatens to shake the foundations.

But she's not really looking to argue too much, and she doesn't seem particularly angry or passionate in her opinion, but she's always been good about guarding herself. They're out for a drink and to reestablish a forgotten friendship, not to argue about what's really worth it.

Roxy twirls her glass slowly by the stem. His question about her family is a bit complicated to answer. What they need protection from is, essentially, herself. Not her, directly, but what she is, what she's a part of could very well put them in danger if she were to slip up around the wrong person, and she's very aware of that. Kingsman has gone almost a hundred years without anyone knowing who and what they are, but if anyone were to ever truly discover any of their identities, the easiest way to gain any sort of control would be to go for one of their families. Roxy may not be terribly close to hers, but she's not sure if she would be able to hold herself together if anything were to ever happen to any of them because of her. ]

The world. [ She shrugs a shoulder, takes another small sip from her drink. Pauses. Takes another sip, not so small. ] Nothing specific. Things happen to people all the time. Everyone wants to protect the people they care about, don't they?

[ Roxy offers a smile, tries to keep things lighthearted so he has no reason to question her further or suspect her of being something other than what she claims to be. She sits forward then, reaching out with one hand to gesture to the pendant hanging at his collar, her fingers hovering but not touching. ]

Does this have any sort of significance?

[ after their text conversation about the ethics of piracy, it's only natural that their face to face conversation would take a similar path. cassidy can't say he's sorry for it, either; he likes hearing her talk, and part of him enjoys the thrill of debate. they're separated by more than just a table. they're separated by three hundred years, by differing circumstances that led him to become a pirate fighting against his country and her an agent fighting in service of her country ( not that he knows that part — yet ). there's always bound to be things upon which they disagree. it's part of what makes her so interesting.

he arches a brow, though the hint of a smile remains on his lips. ] That'd be so? You're an honest lass, I grant it. [ he doesn't mean truthful, but rather good and decent. ] Maybe there be more good than bad people, as you say. For my part, I think not of people as good or bad. From whence I come, people be rich or desperate, and far more of them's desperate as not. No one thinks of saving everyone else who can't hardly feed or clothe hisself. [ he pauses, then tips his hand. ] Or, herself. You see?

[ it's a reference, once again, to the broken economy of the post-war world he inhabits. a world where there are more orphaned children on the streets than animals, where men and young boys are press-ganged onto navy ships, where sailors are paid shit wages and treated worse, and wealthy merchants sell men, women, and children like cargo. a world where honest people, by any definition of the word, don't normally last long.

these reasons still might not justify piracy in roxy's eyes, but they might shed some light on it at any rate. if their situations were reversed, maybe roxy still wouldn't have made the choices cassidy did. maybe there are good and bad people, and she's one type and he's the other.

at the very least, he's not terrible enough for her to quit his company. that's all that matters for the moment. her answer again brings that smirk to his lips. ] The world, is it? Be that the very world you're wanting to save? [ even if her answer weren't vague, he would know she's not being entirely candid. she always did seem to be hiding something. maybe she'll be more forthcoming with the truth after a few more martinis.

besides, it's not like she's the only one that's hiding things. he doesn't stop her from reaching across the table for his pendant, though there's a subtle shift in his expression. it's a locket, really, though that might not be readily apparent from the outside. ]

This trinket? [ pinching the pendant between his fingers, he glances down at it for a moment. ] To someone, perhaps. I... unburdened a poor captain of it after his ship fall victim to a roving bunch of bloody rogues.

[ with a wink, he pushes his empty glass aside and scoots his chair back, so he and his pendant are out of roxy's reach. ]

Care you for another drink?

[ Roxy can't even really begin to understand what it's like to live in the century he does - all she knows is from history books, taught to her in school, but there's a difference between reading about something and being in the center of it. Her London is not the same as his and it never will be, and perhaps that's why she chooses not to argue with him too intensely.

Lifting her chin a little, she eyes him curiously, taking a small sip from her glass as she tries to figure out what she wants to say to him, what she wants to ask. ]

I can understand that, I think. But I also feel like life would become so lonely, only looking after oneself. And at what point does loneliness become more unbearable than surviving?

[ Roxy's not trying to pretend like she has any idea what it's like to be desperate in the sense that Cassidy means - she's been very fortunate in that she's never really had to want for anything, born with a silver spoon 'up her arse' as Eggsy once said to Harry about people like him and herself -, she just wants to understand the reasoning behind his own argument.

She glances up, the corners of her mouth curling into a soft smile, teetering on the edge of a smirk, perhaps to match his. She's aware that her answers kind of contradict with one another - she wants to save the world, but also wants to save her family from it which suggests that maybe the world isn't actually worth the effort of saving. ]

Yes. Saving the world is a pretty steep request, isn't it? So I opted for the more sensible option.

[ Not entirely true, but Roxy's not here to divulge every little detail about herself tonight, probably ever. She sips from her drink again, finishing it off and setting it back down on the nearest coaster, sliding the glass a little off to the side so it's out of the way.

When he winks and his explanation for how he came into owning the pendant sinks in, she laughs, shaking her head at him. ]

Unburdened. Please - you stole it, you bloody rogue. [ She may sound a bit disapproving, but there's still a faint sense of playfulness to her tone. She makes a small gesture with one hand. ] Go on then, why not? I'll have the same as you this time, though.

[ it takes him aback, how quickly she arrives at the root of it. existing in a world where everyone looks out for their own interests can be lonely. the most difficult thing for cassidy to adjust to in eudio, more than the communicators or electricity or indoor plumbing, was not always having to look over his shoulder. he still sleeps with a knife under his pillow, but not once has he had to use it.

he could argue that he's not lonely, that he's surrounded by people at sea, and on land he hardly ever spends a night alone, but the words never make it to his lips. he has a loyal crew, but he would only count a few among them as true friends. as for the rest, their loyalty only lasts while they see cassidy as surest way to get what they want. his smiles thinly. ]

Well, Miss Morton, trust that you'll be the first person I tell, should I chance upon the answer.

[ but his smile grows more genuine a moment later. ] At any rate, you always was a sensible creature.

[ at her laughter, his expression brightens further. gone are any shadows of a moment ago. if she spends enough time with him, she might discover he lied about the pendant. it's actually the only one of his accessories he didn't steal. he almost never removes it, and he holds it between his fingers from time to time. when he's alone, he pries the locket apart with the tip of his knife and looks at what's inside — a small coil of dark hair on one side, and on the other a coil of sandy-blonde hair, a shade off from his own, that belonged to a girl he once knew. but, for tonight at least, cassidy would much rather make roxy laugh at his antics than pity him for his losses. ]

Very well. Drop your anchor, I'll not be gone a minute. [ he gets up from the table and weaves back towards the bar.

it's more than a minute, of course, probably closer to five or six, by the time he returns with two old fashioned glasses of some orangeish drink. as he sinks into his seat, he pushes one towards her. ]

This here be one of the most pleasing mixtures you're like to get at sea. We call it bumbo, though I reckon the sort they make here is better suited to landlubbers such as yourself. [ with a cheeky grin, he raises his glass to knock against hers. ]

[ Roxy wrinkles her nose a little at the way he addresses her - Miss Morton. It's nearly as bad as being called Roxanne (which is only reserved for her parents and situations of high importance and formality, in her opinion). She appreciates the politeness of it, but she'd also like to think they've passed the stage of formalities - especially considering they've known each other since well before now, even if she doesn't remember it. It still counts.

But she also has the feeling that he's just doing it to get under her skin, which is why she doesn't correct him. It's not that bothersome, just a matter of preference, and if he is meaning to ruffle her feathers a bit then she's not going to acknowledge it at all. ]

Good. You never know, my very life could depend on it one day. [ The answer, she means, but she's just teasing judging by the way she looks at him, one corner of her mouth curled just so, and a hint of playfulness in her eyes.

Drop your anchor makes her laugh a little and she shoos him off with a subtle wave of her hand, taking the time that he's gone to have a look around the pub. She makes note of little, seemingly unimportant details (habit), listens in on a few seconds of random conversations here and there, and even watches Cassidy at the bar for a moment or two, trying to decide what to make of him.

He's charming in an odd way that she wouldn't really expect from a pirate - or the stereotype of one, anyway. Kind, intelligent, intriguing, and willing to give their friendship another go, which is honestly a little bit of a relief. The two of them are as different as two people could possibly be, and yet - Roxy likes him.

But that doesn't mean she trusts him. Not yet. She offers him a closed-lipped smile when he returns to the table, reaching out to take the glass he slid towards her and lifting it to clink against his - but instead of taking a drink, she keeps her hand right where it is, raised with their glasses still touching, and she tilts her head. ] ... Swap with me.

[ the use of a formal address is partly habit — it's all mister and miss, sir and ma'am, my lord and my lady where he's from — but mostly it's meant to tease her. it's a sign of affection, really. proof of how much he likes her. schoolyard tactics. first names are reserved for more serious situations, when he really wants someone's attention or to stress a point, or if he forgets, in the heat of a moment, to be coy.

at present, they're still just having fun while learning how to be friends. somehow, despite their differences, it comes easily with roxy. it could just be simple attraction, but it's always felt a little deeper than that with her. perhaps it's because she's not a shallow person, and cassidy's never been content to remain in the shallows.

despite their differences, they also have a few important similarities. the way roxy takes stock of her environment is something cassidy learned to do from a young age. if you weren't careful on the docks in bristol, you risked getting press-ganged. if you weren't tuned into your surroundings when you stepped foot in a tavern in port royal or down a side street in nassau, you risked getting jumped. constant vigilance is a survival skill. so is not trusting someone you've just met.

so her request ( demand? ) doesn't surprise him, but he feigns a shocked look all the same, placing a hand over his chest. ] Miss Morton, you wound me to my marrow, you do! What kind of villain do you think I be?

[ secretly, he's impressed by her savvy, not that he tampered with her drink. because he didn't. ]

Here now. [ he places his own glass in front of her, and holds out his hand for hers. ] I'll show you I'm no ruffian.

[ Truthfully, Cassidy hasn't given her any reason to believe that he'd do anything as unsavory as tampering with her drink — aside from being a pirate who are notorious for being untrustworthy in general, outside of their own circles. But it's Roxy's job to be careful, to expect and anticipate the unexpected — and, she may or may not have been drugged before, only to wake up with her wrists and ankles tied down to a set of train tracks, with a train on its way.

It's just a precaution, and, perhaps, also a small test.

She smiles a little at his theatrics, but even in his feigned shock, she holds to her request. If he hasn't done anything, he'll swap, and if he refuses, well then she really has no reason to stick around and waste any more time. ]

Not a very smart one, if you are.

[ A villain, she means. She's only teasing (somewhat), and when he frees his hand of his drink and holds it open for hers, she presses her glass into his hand, careful only to let it go once he's got it.

She lowers her hand, fingers settling around the glass in front of her, but still, she doesn't drink. Carefully, she tilts her chin up a little, cants her head slightly. Waiting. ]

... Go on then.

[ Prove it. ]

[ some pirates are untrustworthy, even in their own circles. it's not exactly a job that attracts upstanding people, even if most of them do have some semblance of honor and loyalty. there are those that would tamper with a woman's drink, or anyone's drink for that matter, though they'd be more likely to rob the person blind than tie them to train tracks- if train tracks existed in his time. she's right to be cautious. she's actually one of the few people here to treat him as a potential threat, rather than some kind of romantic hero come to life.

it makes him like her all the more. he drops the theatrics, revealing a sharp look and a sly grin. ]

Here's to clever lasses.

[ he clinks his glass against hers and throws his back, downing the contents in one go. as he sets his glass down, he makes the sound of a man coming up for air and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. ]

As I thought, a fair deal sweeter than the kind back home.

[ he rotates is glass on the table, his eyes meeting hers. it goes without saying, now, but he says it anyway- ]

Hang me for a cur if I'd ever wish a woman such as yourself any harm. [ he winks. ] Unless she wish it upon me first.

[ Roxy picks up her glass, offering a small, polite smile when Cassidy clinks his own drink against hers, but even then, she waits until he's had a mouthful before she sips any of her own. It's one thing to agree to swap drinks to satisfy her concerns, but making sure he actually drinks it is what actually matters. But's not coughing or choking or otherwise dying, so she feels confident enough that she'll be all right. And that Cassidy is a little more honest than perhaps his image implies.

She wets her lips as she sets her glass down, chasing any of the sweetness left behind on them. ]

That's quite nice, actually.

[ Not too sweet in her own opinion, but she prefers sweeter things anyway, and she understands that the ingredients available now may not have been available back in his time, so it's bound to taste different to what he knows.

Roxy glances up from watching his fingers toying with his empty glass, her eyes meeting with his. The corner of her mouth quirks a little and she tilts her head slightly. ]

They've done away with capital punishment in the U.K. [ She pauses, then offers something that might sound more familiar to him. ] In London. But even if they hadn't, I wouldn't worry - I'm not as easily overtaken as you might assume.

[ Roxy pauses for only a moment, and then raises her glass to take another sip from him, looking straight at Cassidy over the rim. ]

Would I steer you wrong?

[ the answer is no. not intentionally. he may have had to choke down some truly terrible mixtures in his life, but it's perhaps for that reason that he appreciates a good taste all the more. he leans forward, his elbows on the edge of the table. one hand continues to fiddle with his glass, for lack of anything better to do.

well, he could think of several better things to be doing with his hands, but they're not at that point just yet.

her information piques the interest of one of his eyebrows. ] Have they, truly? [ a wry laugh twists from his lips. ] What do the townsfolk gather around for entertainment, lacking a good public execution?

[ he wonders if they've done away with the pillory, too. but, truth be told, he's much more interested in the look roxy gives him as she sips her drink. his grin is small this time. private. and just a little bit hungry. ]

Banish the thought, Miss Morton. I'd never assume such a thing about you.

Not intentionally, I don't think. You'd be silly to try.

[ It's a mostly-teasing retort, and she punctuates it with a serious look that dissolves into a quiet laugh and a smile, if only for the sake of appearing unassuming and less than what she really is. Roxy's proud of the woman she's become, of what she can do, what she's capable of as a Kingsman agent now that she's completed her training and become the new Lancelot - but part of the responsibility is appearing to be something she isn't. Being unassuming enough that no one would suspect she's anything more than the simple tailor she claims to be.

Roxy's gaze drops again, drawn to the subtle movement of his fingers around his glass. She's not necessarily distracted, but she is thinking. Cassidy knows her from her time before - but how much does he know? How well did they know each other?

Her eyes flicker up briefly at the sound of his laugh. She smiles. ]

Their phones, mostly. [ Which is kind of alarming, only for the fact that Valentine nearly wiped out the entire human population by relying on the fact that nearly everyone is attached to their cell phone these days. Fortunately, she and Eggsy and Merlin managed to stop him before too much damage could be done.

Roxy shrugs her shoulder. ] EastEnders. Football.

[ No hangings or public humiliation to speak of.

There's a small pause, just a short moment of silence before Roxy lifts her hand from where it's been resting at the base of her glass, and reaches out slowly, gingerly touching her fingertips to the rings on the hand fiddling with his drink. She doesn't mean to stop him, she's just - looking. Expressing a sort of interest, perhaps.

Flirting, maybe, in the subtlest of ways.

She glances up for a moment, just long enough to pose her question, before her eyes fall back to their hands. ] What would you assume, if you were to make assumptions, Captain?

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