AHOY!

[soggynotecards.livejournal.com]

Demyx has finally emerged from the depths of Hufflepuff after a realization:

Today is September 19th. Also known as the best day of the year.

He's enlisted a couple of the house elves to put together some suitable costumes and is currently sitting on a raft just off the shore of the lake. He'd be dangling his feet in the water, except it's Scotland and even though it's only September that would probably just be stupid even if the lake wasn't full of grindylows and things. Either way, he's attempting to teach the house elves he's co-opted a suitable song.

"C'mon, try it again. With catlike tread, upon our prey we steal! In silence dread, our cautious way we feel! No sound at all, we never speak a word! A fly's footfall would be distinctly heard! And you've got to sing it louder than that, too - that's part of the joke, it's a really loud song."

He demonstrates, singing the lines again - at the top of his lungs. The fact that he can get the sound of a full orchestra out of one sitar is probably magic all by itself. And yes, he realizes that Gilbert and Sullivan's pirates don't exactly sound like the pirates you're supposed to talk like, but it's in-theme, right?

A certain group of people, some of them in swishy capes, are watching from various points along the lakeshore. ra_tilt_chimera, unsurprisingly, is facepalming - he doesn't even know this idiot, and he's embarrassed for him.

ostianespionage, on the other hand, is humming thoughtfully to himself, turning an eyepatch marked with a skull and crossbones over in his hands. He's decided he prefers ninjas, really, but there's something to be said for any profession that gets you treasure, even if pirates have no finesse at all.

aquilus_albel, on the other hand, is rather unnecessarily attacking a tree some distance off, trying and failing to ignore the singing. He's mostly just punching it; he left his sword in his room, not having a use for it, but given that his left hand is clawed and made of metal he's still leaving some rather nasty gashes. It's times like this that really make him dislike that no-kill rule, even if really he'd just maim the maggot on the raft a bit.

berranyrmizzrym, finally, is skulking about in the shadows of the trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, crimson eyes hidden behind sunglasses despite the shade. That sunlight allergy drow have makes it a pain to deal with being outside. Especially when one is trying to read - though the idiot singing out on the lake isn't helping his concentration any, either. Maybe he'll just go back inside.

((OOC: Joint post for my guys, since I really need to start showing up here again and we need something for Talk Like a Pirate Day. We've got ra_tilt_chimera, ostianespionage, soggynotecards, aquilus_albel, berranyrmizzrym. Any of them you want to grab, just make it clear in your post or pop it in the subject line. Or I guess you could put "any" and get one at random, if you don't have one in particular.))