Talk like a pirate day - this isn't how it was at all (open)

[immutablysam]

Sam actually lived during parts of the golden age of piracy. These people's teeth are far too well tended, they smell better, the rum is a lot less... dirty, and who in all the hells ever talked like /that?/

But ok. So the pirate outfit is actually better than the stupid indian ones. And there's rum. Rum makes so many things better. Sam is wandering down the halls here and there, quite steadily, despite the bottle of rum being two-thirds gone, with three parrots having adopted 'him', and a couple more perching on the ornithopter that rolls behind Sam.

Comments

[immutablysam]

"I know pirates. Most of them would be drinking their rotting teeth and lot in life away were it not for the Bosun's lash. Didn't say anything about passing out, neither. Don't know that rum is strong enough anyway. Just enough to appreciate the party, until someone comes up with better suggestions."

Pause.

"And who would Errol Flynn be?"

[and_she_waited]

She punches him in the arm.

"Most of them that have their whole live to be pirates," she points out; "you only 'ave a day or two."

And no bosun to bother him.

Sigh, it's lucky for everyone Amelia Pond is here.

"I say we find us a couple cutlasses, an' have a go of it," she says, wondering if sword skills come with the funny accents and costumes.

And then she grins at him.

"You want to know who Errol Flynn be?"

[immutablysam]

That gets a quirked brow. "Cutlasses we can find, if you want to learn a thing or three on blades. I don't know about being one, but I've fought my share of pirates. But, sure... who is Errol Flynn? You can explain on the way to the holo-deck."

[and_she_waited]

Good answer, Sam.

Matter of fact, bloody jolly answer, if the delight on Amy's face is anything to go by.

"I'll show ye once we're there," she agrees, turning smartly on her heel and leading the way to a free holodeck.

She could really get used to these boots.

"Fought pirates, been to the Fountain of Youth, over a hundred years old — aye, the Doctor would love you," she snickers, pulling up the list of scenarios on the computer panel outside the holodeck.

She picks an appropriate one, and leads them in. "Computer, on program!"

Suddenly the room transforms into a perfect replica of the ship from Captain Blood, docked in the shallows of a small, suspect island. Amy laughs with glee, running to the port side rail to get a good look at the beach.

[immutablysam]

Ahhh... knives. And a cutlass, but that's secondary. Sam draws a knife from 'his' belt, and one from 'his' boot, juggling the pair with one hand, getting a feel for their balance and spin -- and for the fun of it. Good to be armed again. Still toying with the spinning knives, Sam heads for the side of the ship as well.

"Then I'd love to meet the Doctor, no doubt. Nice beach... which shore is this?"