#xabi 001

[darcyxpalmer]

status: closed with @delendame-xabi where: in the control room

Darcy was moving with purpose - she wanted to find somebody, anybody, who could give her some answers. Tell her this was all a joke, tell her how to get out of this place. Anything helpful, really.

She wasn't quite sure where she was going, so it took her a moment to realize she stumbled upon the control room, along with a man lying on the floor, the room torn apart, documents all around him, a briefcase lying next to him.

He had to know something.

Darcy moved quickly, picking up the briefcase and holding it in her hands in a way that if she had to, she could use it as a weapon, and shook the man awake (while also keeping as much distance between him and herself as she physically could).

"Hey! Hey, wake up! You have some explaining to do. Are you okay?"

[darcyxpalmer]

"What do you want me to-- you were the one who first made--" Darcy stopped herself. Did he think she was an idiot? Because more and more it started to feel like he was twisting and turning both her and his own language to play some kind of weird game with her. What for, she had no idea, but all she wanted was to yell at him and argue with him, even though she knew that was not going to work. So instead she took a deep breath, and then another few.

And then he said if she knew how a boat works, they'd be just fine and she couldn't actually not snap at him. "What do you even-- yeah, I know that boats float! That is about as much as I know. But even if I did know more, this entire cruise ship is tilted in a way even the Titanic would be jealous of it - we're basically halfway standing on the walls, if you didn't realize it yet - so there is no way we can just float away somewhere. What kind of captain are you even? Have you lost your mind?"

A captain, he was not, apparently. Or that was just him messing with her again, she couldn't even tell anymore. "If you are not actually the captain, why did you even tell me you were?!" He didn't, but at this point him even implying it meant he explicitely told her, in Darcy's mind.

Another thought crossed her mind then and she took another step, that damn briefcase still in her grip. "If you are not the captain, why did you wake up here? Among this mess? Who are you? Have you been here before? Do you know what is going on?"

Right. One thing was certain, he didn't like her very much. But that didn't change the disturbing aspect of the current situation. He'd never planned to set foot on a cruise ship. It was the kind of thing people did to make themselves look richer than they really were. He'd rather spend a week at an isolated stud farm in the Camargue or a villa in Mikonos than a fortnight in a futile, mid-range consumer factory ; only to spend half the time seasick and having to put up with other people's children? No, thanks.

"It's a boat, what do you want me to call it?" Looking at her as if she were mad, Xabi raised an eyebrow when she repeated sunshine, as if to say: yes, and? "Well, we're saved, if you know how a boat works."

The boat in question emitted a metallic rumble, and the businessman clung to the edge of the dashboard. "The captain? You think I'm the captain." Well, it's true he was in the command room, but... he didn't know why he was here either. "I've taken sailing lessons, I've driven a speedboat, but this? Hell, you might as well ask me to fly a helicopter." With a scoff he looked at her. "I suppose we can attempt to find a map, or we can look for the staff. They must be wearing ... uniforms," hideous polos, or matching tee shirts, most likely.

[darcyxpalmer]

The instinct to give a fake, ungenuine smile at the man calling her sunshine came immediately, without a second thought. It's what she's always used with asshole customers and drunkards and she perfected it over the years - the fakeness only showed when she really wanted it to.

And oh boy, she wanted it now.

"You ask me if i hit my head because I called this place a boat, and then you go and call it a boat the very next sentence. Sending me some mixed signals, sunshine," she couldn't help but retort back. "But for your information, I didn't hit my head and yes, I know how a boat works - or cruise ship or whatever you wanna call it, I really don't care -, what I don't understand is how we got here. And since you're the captain, you must have answers."

The brief case. He cared about that. Well, that would be an easy leverage then. "No," she answered simply, her fingers gripping onto the case stronger. "Answer my questions first and then I'll happily hand it over." Okay, maybe a lie, she now wondered what could be in it, if maybe it held some answers, but one step at a time.

He frowned, glancing around to try and work out what was going on. He wasn't in his office, and he was a long way from London. With a phlegm that would make the king himself pale with envy, he shoved his hands into his pockets. She seemed to think he could answer her questions, as if he were in charge of the... boat?

He would have liked to have been able to shed some light on her situation, their situation, but to tell the truth, she was already starting to break his balls with her fucking questions. "One question at a time, sunshine," he gave her a smile, the sort that was akin to a middle finger in her face.

"This is a boat." He raised his eyebrows. "Did you hit your head?" That had to be it. She looked lost. Did he look lost himself? Well, he was probably lost too, but he was a man, and he'd have rather died than admit it. "As to how I got us here, well... I'd happily explain to you how a boat works but..."

She had his briefcase in her hands, with his contracts, his address book, his computer, and a whole lot of information that had to remain private. "Will you give me back my case?"

[darcyxpalmer]

His office. A weird name for the captain to use, Darcy would have assumed he'd use some kind of ship-captain lingo, but he was passed out and getting shaken up, he could get some leeway for his choice of words.

At least he didn't need too long to get up, and Darcy stood up with him from her crouching and took a step further back from him, still holding onto the briefcase, ready to simply swing it at the man if he would try anything.

"Sleeping? You're-- what the hell are you talking about? Why would you be even sleeping in the middle of--" She stopped herself, shook her head. That wasn't important. She needed to focus on what was important, ask questions that could get her somewhere. "You say this is your office, so tell me this - what is this place? Why are we here? How did you get all of us here?"

He awoke wearisomely, feeling as if he'd been hit by a double-decker bus.

Why was he asleep? Had he dozed off at work? Why was he hearing the crashing of waves, the chirping of seagulls and a goddamn New York accent? He had to go next month, and frankly, he wasn't looking forward to it. "How did you get into my offi-"

Why was he lying on the floor? Oh, damn it. What did she want with him?

Confused, the businessman stood up, taking a moment to look around. What the hell was he doing here? What the hell was going on? "Sure. I love sleeping on the floor."

He seemed sincere, even if it was debatable whether he could enjoy sleeping like this, especially dressed as he was. In a three-piece suit with turned-up leather tassel loafers, he looked rather dressed for a business meeting in Westminster.