[there is a stranger attired in black and white in the establishment, having taken over one of the larger tables and a chair, half kneeling on it. a glass of whiskey in his hand, he’s bent over a map of the ship’s decks, currently annotating things with a precise hand and utmost focus. and that’s when the chandelier that’s been travelling and causing such fuss decides to crash down thunderously – Dantes narrowly avoids it smashing his hands, but it sure falls and explodes, a sound of countless crystals shattering, splintering, wreckage denting the table and causing him to have leapt to his feet. it’s loud enough to be heard outside, given how quiet he was being before.

with all the dignity he can muster, he extracts the map from the destruction, moving to another table to keep working, but sighs deeply upon examining the glass he has. there in the amber liquid are enough small fragments of chandelier to make it undrinkable.]

…Such a waste.

[now he’s going to have to hunt down another glass. but, keeping his eyes open for anyone else drawn in by the sound (or who just appreciates good booze), anything so much as a footstep is going to get his attention.]

[he’s no stranger to libraries – Dantes finds reading to be one of man’s better pastimes, though the pure channel of fiction makes him roll his eyes at the idea of information being withheld. clearly deliberate, and yet, he’s searching through the shelves with a singleminded determination that can’t be ignored, dismissing shelf after shelf with a scowl. you’d be forgiven for thinking he’s angry about something, he carries that air.

and yet, venture close enough, and he backs away to offer you the choice of books first before he continues his search. or perhaps you’re walking through and finding it hard to reach something – and suddenly, a black gloved hand will grasp the book you’re searching for, and drop it into your hand. don’t thank him, he just doesn’t want to watch you struggle.]

[it’s deep in the middle of the night when he’s out there – one would be forgiven for taking him for another poltergeist, dark and clinging to the shadows. only those truly willing to destroy their sleep schedule would be out with him, or those trying to stargaze. head tilted back, he studies the sky in silence, the sounds of the ship itself at peace. but so quiet, the statement he makes to himself is audible enough, rough edged voice full of disbelief.]

How on earth is anyone supposed to navigate through this…?

[have another idea? hit me up and let’s go! please note, Dantes will not give anyone apart from castmates his real name in an effort to hide his identity.]