flavour of the day with fresh peaches, root beer float and a cherry
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Theology
Rating: G
Challenge: FOTD: gravitas
Toppings/Extras: root beer float (script), cherry, fresh peaches
Wordcount: 732 (including names)
Summary: Cooper Braun isn’t much of a theologian, especially when drunk.
Notes: You’ll have to imagine the slurring. I don’t know if we’ve met Ciro before; he’s Francis’ nine-year-old nephew who becomes the Kraken’s mascot of sorts. XD Also featuring a not-really-pairing that gets absolutely no attention! Gravitas: high seriousness (as in a person’s treatment or bearing of the subject). Peaches: Evening vibes are rather hypersensitive, romantically. If you feel out of your depth, you are.
[Various members of Jacob Graham’s crew are scattered about in one of the cabins below decks. Lanterns are lit and there are several crates of alcohol in the vicinity. TIM LORING, COOPER BRAUN, FRANCIS GOWER and KELLER are sat at the table. CIRO MACHIODI is sat cross-legged next to FRANCIS’ chair, playing on a handheld gaming device. It is clear that the adults in the room have already been drinking copiously.]
COOPER: What happened to your face?
TIM: Eh? [Touches a mottled pink patch on his face.] Gunpowder burn.
COOPER: Damn.
TIM: [Snapping] None of that!
KELLER: [Laughs.] Shut it, Timmy, yer never made it to priesthood.
TIM: I would’ve.
COOPER: Priesthood? You were going to be a priest?
KELLER: Ha! Not likely!
TIM: [Sulkily] I would’ve if it wasn’t for this horrible lot.
KELLER: Watch it, sonny.
FRANCIS: So now you go around killing people and stealing?
TIM: God is forgiving.
COOPER: Dude! [Laughs.] That is harsh. Taking advantage of God’s forgivingness.
TIM: What?!
COOPER: Worst Christian ever. [Drinks.] Seriously, God needs like… a sassy, protective older brother or something that’ll tell off people like you.
FRANCIS: Older brother?
COOPER: Someone who’ll be like, “Hey man, stop pushin’ God around.” [KELLER laughs while TIM just stares.] “Stop taking advantage. He’s way too forgiving.”
CIRO: [Still playing his game] Why does God’s older brother have an American accent?
TIM: [To COOPER] What are you talking about?
COOPER: Oh, I know! I bet Old Testament God is New Testament God’s older brother. Because Old T is all hellfire and floods and get out of Eden, while New T is all benevolent and merciful and stuff.
TIM: There is only one God.
COOPER: When you go up to heaven, New T will be all, “Hey, come on in, I saved you a seat!” and Old T will be like, “Nope, you sinned too much. Get out.”
CIRO: [Laughs.] And once Old T’s stormed off New T’ll just wink.
COOPER: “Ho ho, don’t worry about it buddy! I left the back gate open for you!”
TIM: Heaven doesn’t have a back gate!
KELLER: And when you’re in heaven, if you ever see Old T comin’ you’ll have to go and hide because you’re not supposed to be there.
TIM: Oh, don’t you bloody join in!
KELLER: We’re just messin’ around, Timmy. Blimey.
COOPER: Um, I for one am actually starting to convince myself this is real.
CIRO: [Shaking the gaming device] Aw, I died!
KELLER: You goin’ to heaven or hell?
COOPER: Depends on which brother answers the heavenly intercom.
KELLER: [Smirking] They’d both send Tim down.
TIM: You absolute b-…!
FRANCIS: You swear in front of Ciro and I’ll break your knuckles.
TIM: …!
CIRO: [Smiles sweetly.]
COOPER: Aw, Fran, don’t threaten Tim! Hasn’t the man been through enough tonight?
TIM: Ugh. Too right.
KELLER: He loves it.
COOPER: I bet Old T looks like Bruce Willis. Yippee-ki-yay, motherfudger!
CIRO: Nah, he looks like Mr T!
COOPER: Ahh! It all makes sense now! [Laughs riotously.] New T looks like Santa Claus. But less of the red and more of the sandals.
TIM: What in the world is Santa Claus?
COOPER: Pfft!
FRANCIS: I think you should get to bed, Ciro.
CIRO: [Still playing his game.] But I’m gonna win!
FRANCIS: Shoo! Get to your bunk. [CIRO bounds off.]
KELLER: Are we actually doin’ anythin’ tomorrow?
COOPER: We’re mid-mutiny! Aren’t we just chillin’ out max an’ relaxin’ all cool?
KELLER: We got a ship to run.
TIM: And I have to get to a chapel and clear this absolute piffle from my head.
COOPER: [Suddenly starts laughing again.] Did you just say piffle?
FRANCIS: [Rolling his eyes] I think it’s your bedtime too, Cooper.
COOPER: Oh, shut it! [LIDIA GRAHAM suddenly walks in with her hands on her hips. She frowns around at them all. COOPER nearly falls from his seat.]
LIDIA: You boys still up?
KELLER: [Grins.] What does it look like?
LIDIA: Shush. [Looks at COOPER, who is gawping.] …uh, are you all right?
TIM: [Muttering] He’s not right in the head.
COOPER: …hello, Lidia!
LIDIA: [Looking at COOPER oddly] Well, you should probably get some rest. Papa’s planning something big tomorrow. [Leaves the room.]
KELLER: What the bloody hell is the captain plannin’ this time?
FRANCIS: Nice impression of a blowfish, Cooper.
COOPER: [Groans.] I’m going to bed.
TIM: Hah. Good idea.
Title: Theology
Rating: G
Challenge: FOTD: gravitas
Toppings/Extras: root beer float (script), cherry, fresh peaches
Wordcount: 732 (including names)
Summary: Cooper Braun isn’t much of a theologian, especially when drunk.
Notes: You’ll have to imagine the slurring. I don’t know if we’ve met Ciro before; he’s Francis’ nine-year-old nephew who becomes the Kraken’s mascot of sorts. XD Also featuring a not-really-pairing that gets absolutely no attention! Gravitas: high seriousness (as in a person’s treatment or bearing of the subject). Peaches: Evening vibes are rather hypersensitive, romantically. If you feel out of your depth, you are.
[Various members of Jacob Graham’s crew are scattered about in one of the cabins below decks. Lanterns are lit and there are several crates of alcohol in the vicinity. TIM LORING, COOPER BRAUN, FRANCIS GOWER and KELLER are sat at the table. CIRO MACHIODI is sat cross-legged next to FRANCIS’ chair, playing on a handheld gaming device. It is clear that the adults in the room have already been drinking copiously.]
COOPER: What happened to your face?
TIM: Eh? [Touches a mottled pink patch on his face.] Gunpowder burn.
COOPER: Damn.
TIM: [Snapping] None of that!
KELLER: [Laughs.] Shut it, Timmy, yer never made it to priesthood.
TIM: I would’ve.
COOPER: Priesthood? You were going to be a priest?
KELLER: Ha! Not likely!
TIM: [Sulkily] I would’ve if it wasn’t for this horrible lot.
KELLER: Watch it, sonny.
FRANCIS: So now you go around killing people and stealing?
TIM: God is forgiving.
COOPER: Dude! [Laughs.] That is harsh. Taking advantage of God’s forgivingness.
TIM: What?!
COOPER: Worst Christian ever. [Drinks.] Seriously, God needs like… a sassy, protective older brother or something that’ll tell off people like you.
FRANCIS: Older brother?
COOPER: Someone who’ll be like, “Hey man, stop pushin’ God around.” [KELLER laughs while TIM just stares.] “Stop taking advantage. He’s way too forgiving.”
CIRO: [Still playing his game] Why does God’s older brother have an American accent?
TIM: [To COOPER] What are you talking about?
COOPER: Oh, I know! I bet Old Testament God is New Testament God’s older brother. Because Old T is all hellfire and floods and get out of Eden, while New T is all benevolent and merciful and stuff.
TIM: There is only one God.
COOPER: When you go up to heaven, New T will be all, “Hey, come on in, I saved you a seat!” and Old T will be like, “Nope, you sinned too much. Get out.”
CIRO: [Laughs.] And once Old T’s stormed off New T’ll just wink.
COOPER: “Ho ho, don’t worry about it buddy! I left the back gate open for you!”
TIM: Heaven doesn’t have a back gate!
KELLER: And when you’re in heaven, if you ever see Old T comin’ you’ll have to go and hide because you’re not supposed to be there.
TIM: Oh, don’t you bloody join in!
KELLER: We’re just messin’ around, Timmy. Blimey.
COOPER: Um, I for one am actually starting to convince myself this is real.
CIRO: [Shaking the gaming device] Aw, I died!
KELLER: You goin’ to heaven or hell?
COOPER: Depends on which brother answers the heavenly intercom.
KELLER: [Smirking] They’d both send Tim down.
TIM: You absolute b-…!
FRANCIS: You swear in front of Ciro and I’ll break your knuckles.
TIM: …!
CIRO: [Smiles sweetly.]
COOPER: Aw, Fran, don’t threaten Tim! Hasn’t the man been through enough tonight?
TIM: Ugh. Too right.
KELLER: He loves it.
COOPER: I bet Old T looks like Bruce Willis. Yippee-ki-yay, motherfudger!
CIRO: Nah, he looks like Mr T!
COOPER: Ahh! It all makes sense now! [Laughs riotously.] New T looks like Santa Claus. But less of the red and more of the sandals.
TIM: What in the world is Santa Claus?
COOPER: Pfft!
FRANCIS: I think you should get to bed, Ciro.
CIRO: [Still playing his game.] But I’m gonna win!
FRANCIS: Shoo! Get to your bunk. [CIRO bounds off.]
KELLER: Are we actually doin’ anythin’ tomorrow?
COOPER: We’re mid-mutiny! Aren’t we just chillin’ out max an’ relaxin’ all cool?
KELLER: We got a ship to run.
TIM: And I have to get to a chapel and clear this absolute piffle from my head.
COOPER: [Suddenly starts laughing again.] Did you just say piffle?
FRANCIS: [Rolling his eyes] I think it’s your bedtime too, Cooper.
COOPER: Oh, shut it! [LIDIA GRAHAM suddenly walks in with her hands on her hips. She frowns around at them all. COOPER nearly falls from his seat.]
LIDIA: You boys still up?
KELLER: [Grins.] What does it look like?
LIDIA: Shush. [Looks at COOPER, who is gawping.] …uh, are you all right?
TIM: [Muttering] He’s not right in the head.
COOPER: …hello, Lidia!
LIDIA: [Looking at COOPER oddly] Well, you should probably get some rest. Papa’s planning something big tomorrow. [Leaves the room.]
KELLER: What the bloody hell is the captain plannin’ this time?
FRANCIS: Nice impression of a blowfish, Cooper.
COOPER: [Groans.] I’m going to bed.
TIM: Hah. Good idea.