Work Text:
SETTING:
The Nobleman’s private quarters. A luxurious room with violet linens, gold accents, and dark mahogany wood. Multiple seascape paintings adorn the walls, one of the Angel’s Tears herself. The room contains a large recuperacoon, a desk with a matching chair to the left, a bedside dresser, coat rack, and a soft couch to the right. The Nobleman sits at his desk, writing in a weathered journal. His hat hangs on the rack by his side. The Watcher lays across the couch on their stomach, hand propping up their head. Their other hand holds a light pink cocktail with a flower in it. This takes place several hours before the guests arrive on the ship.
WATCHER: An’ you’re sure you’ve got this all airtight?
NOBLEMAN: What did I just tell you?
WATCHER (swirling their drink): Not t’ worry my pretty lil head about it.
NOBLEMAN: I certainly did not use those words. Everything is perfectly in place, not a single event tonight will stray from my plan.
WATCHER: Our plan
NOBLEMAN: This is my plan. You're only included because I let you. Do keep that in mind.
WATCHER: ‘Cause you loveeeee me.
The Nobleman looks back at The Watcher, glaring at them.
NOBLEMAN: Do try to keep it in your pants, Watcher.
WATCHER: Definitely not what you were sayin’ earlier darlin’.
NOBLEMAN (resuming his writing): As I was saying, everything is in place. Unless you somehow make a mess of your part, we will both get through this cleanly.
WATCHER: Hun y’ know I don't do anythin’ cleanly.
The Watcher stands from the couch and walks up behind The Nobleman. They lean over the back of his chair, peeking at his journal. The Nobleman is annoyed at his companion’s touchiness.
WATCHER: Lemme see the guest list again.
NOBLEMAN: Here's a fun idea for you, have you perhaps tried paying attention to what I tell you?
WATCHER: Nah I was payin’ attention to somethin’ else instead.
The Watcher downs their drink and sits back on the couch, legs crossed with their arms spread over the back. The Nobleman resumes writing.
NOBLEMAN: Just like you to avoid all responsibility when someone actually needs your pathetic attempts at assistance. What could you have possibly been distracted by?
The Watcher makes a crude sexual gesture behind The Nobleman's back. The Nobleman turns back to look at them, and they stop.
WATCHER: I dunno, the weather.
NOBLEMAN (handing WATCHER a list of names): Oh I'm sure you were. Here, it's rather small but that should make it easier for you, yes? Or at the very least harder for your incompetence to actually get in the way.
The Watcher takes the list, muttering something vaguely sexual under their breath. (i can't think of a good enough way to have them make a remark)
WATCHER: Why y’ have Stranger on here?
NOBLEMAN: Hm?
WATCHER: Stranger. He's on this list too? We know each other. Go way back.
NOBLEMAN: That's the point of this evening, is it not? You yourself have spent countless hours lounging nude and drunk on my couch there ranting about your past with him. Seemed far less personal than a pitch courtship. Why not be rid of him while we're at it?
The Watcher shrinks up on the couch, no longer taking up so much space. (they're distressed by this information. how best to show that from a stage without making it too upset?)
WATCHER: Ah. Right. Almos’ forgot ‘bout that.
NOBLEMAN: You seem displeased.
WATCHER: Nah. Well yeah, I'm all outta this drink.
NOBLEMAN: I have wine.
WATCHER: I have taste?
NOBLEMAN: Then walk to the bar and make another one. I'm not your servant.
WATCHER: Speakin’ of, where are they?
NOBLEMAN: I didn't think you so oblivious. We need to cover our tracks.
WATCHER: Right, right. Tha’s why we're headin’ out on th’ ocean.
NOBLEMAN: I feel as though every time we speak I must reiterate the most basic of concepts.
WATCHER: So what you're sayin’ is we’re completely alone on this ship?
NOBLEMAN: I feel as though I just said something about this. Hmm.
WATCHER: Answer th’ damn question babe.
NOBLEMAN: What is it you would say? “Lighten up”? Yes we're alone. On this deck at the least. Might have some hands below still. Until Forthright arrives, it is just us.
The Watcher saunters over to the desk of the Nobleman, and pushes everything on it to the floor. They then sit on top of the desk with their legs propped up on the arms of the Nobleman’s chair.
WATCHER: Fine by me. Wanna fill the time wit’ somethin’ a bit more interestin’?