Lark is there early to let him in, with a paper in one hand. He has met the Admiral but like everyone else he can't remember what the entity looks like. So he's drawn the outline of someone in a Naval outfit, with a galaxy for a face.
Ed glances at it and shrugs. "Yeah, it'll have to." It's not as if he expected Lark to produce an actual likeness, being pretty aware himself the admiral's more or less a faceless entity.
"After you," he says, gesturing at the door. As it's not as though he can open it himself.
"I'll have a rum, thanks," Ed replies, already picking up a handful of darts and throwing one right in the center of the entity's head. "Take that, dick-face."
"Nice one," Lark murmurs, throwing another that goes a little wide. "I think there is no real winning with him. Hell, another passenger once killed him and he came back."
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"Will this do?"
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"After you," he says, gesturing at the door. As it's not as though he can open it himself.
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"What's your drink of choice?"
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He might be joking, but then again, he might not be.
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