So listen up, people.

[ The friendliest address ever is brought to you by Johanna Mason, who looks a damn sight better than she did on arrival.

...Or, well. She's not bleeding any more, at any rate.

She offers a tight lipped smile that looks more like a grimace than anything else. She's not the friendliest person in the world, okay? ]

As much as I'm loving the holiday, getting out of practice has literally never boded well for me. I'm after some training partners, sparring, whatever - you just need to be good. [ She pauses for a moment before grinning slightly, actually a little amused. ] Really good. Anyway, takers, people who can point in the right direction, et cetera et cetera, let me know.

[ And with a brief wave that looks more like a salute than anything else, Johanna's out. ]

Damn this thing to hell—

[ This is the thunk thunk thunk sound of a device being slapped. The audio snaps on, then shuts off, then shuts on again, then off, until finally settling on the video setting.

Enjoy a nice shot of Edward's forehead, guys. ]

I see the custom around here's to introduce yourself. Never been one for customs, myself, so don't expect me to bother.

Rather, I've come to inquire about these gods-- as they see fit to call themselves. Any fellow know where I might find one? Perhaps in a castle, somewhere up in the sky, surrounded by their servants and riches? [ A laugh.] Any other time, I would've spoken in jest, but... this is no illusion. One night of drinking can't leave a man muddled up for days.

[ He would know.

And finally, after several shaky jerks of the camera, its finally positioned so that we can see edward's face . ]

And though I am capable of many feats, crossing an ocean in mere seconds is not one of them. And yet, here I am.  [ A beat. ] Could you fathom the utility of such an object? Something that allows a man to travel instantly across miles... across.... wherever this place may be.

A drink, to the one who can answer me!

How do you lot get on like this so long? I've barely been walking the streets here for a week and already I'm feeling cramped outta my damned mind. [ There's a shiver and if you can't see his teeth chattering, you can definitely hear it. ] Not to mention, freezing my bloody arse right the hell off.

[ There's a thick accent in the young man's voice - some mash-up of nothern English, pushing on Yorkshire, but with a distinct character to it that people from modern Earth, or familiar enough with pirate movies, would recognizes as pirate-y. Piratey fits his look too, given that he's got scars here and there on his face, beads in the loose pieces of hair that hang down, and a red bandana wrapped around his forehead. Clothes are either light linen or a worn leather that's seen many better days. And given that he's huddled under a tree with those worn fabrics tugged around him, it's apparent this kind of climate isn't what he's typically outfitted for. ]

I'd go hide away in the posh quarters they've assigned me, but livin' in a box, even cushy as it is, gets to driving me mad after a time. [ He gives a disgruntled huff, a puff of fog raising out of his mouth, and the last couple sentences are muttered ] It's captivity is what it is. You're men, not cattle, aren't you? It may be a nicely trussed up corral, but still a corral.

[ It appears he's crouching down near the lake at Gefion Park, looking particularly put out as he picks up a stick and starts idly tracing things in the snow, eyes surveying out over the rowboats. ]

All we've got in the way of water's this sad puddle, and it's ratty little dingheys. And as for wilderness, it don't really count if you've a man coming in to trim at it every other day, keeping it nice and pretty and civilized. [ The man shakes his head, a laugh coming but with a touch of incredulity in it. This is ridiculous. ] Do they at least take you out've the gates for a walk every now and again, if you've minded real well and not messed on the carpets?

[ While it may look like nothing to others, certain people familiar with it may notice that the symbol he's carving into the snow with a stick is actually the Assassin's emblem. It's a sort of call to those he'd consider friends to check in, without explicitly shouting out for any Assassins in the area. He clears his throat, looking back to the screen. ]

So where's the best place 'round here to get a warm drink, hot meal and decent conversation?


[[ ooc; so big spoiler, james kidd is actually a woman named mary read. she's been dressed up as a boy since childhood and passes as a man among a fuck ton of pirates and a military, so there shouldn't be anything apparent making her seem like anything but a young man, however she does still identify as a woman, so pronouns here-after are going to be 'she/her'. i put him/he in here mainly just for descriptiony effect, really. but yeah, it'll be 'mary' and 'she', but as a heads up, for all intents and purposes, she'd be pretty obviously a dude /o/ thanks bbs ]]