I’ve got to keep it. [Open!]
steal-back-pennies-from-the-well:
steal-back-pennies-from-the-well:
Oops. Perhaps three whole bottles of vodka were too much. Brendan was starting to feel rather giggly and just a bit loopy. Laughing at himself, he went onto the beach, heading to the ocean for a quick dip to clear his head. Stumbling over the sand, he managed to wrestle his shirt off and kick off his shoes, nearly falling as he did it. Letting out another snicker, he waddled into the ocean, diving under and coming up cackling uncontrollably.
Jack watched the fellow outside from his window with mild amusement. Was this guy drunk off his rocker or what!? After a while, he couldn’t resist anymore. He grabbed a bottle of rum from his liquor cabinet and went outside to join the man. “‘Ello!” he called, chuckling at the man’s antics. Upon coming a little closer, Jack noticed the striking resemblance between them. “Er, bloody hell,” the pirate muttered, tilting his head to better study this dark-haired man.
Running his fingers through his wild and curly hair, Brendan did his best to clean himself up. Still giggling to himself, he turned around to see a pirate coming towards him. A pirate? How fun! “Argh, you scurvy cur!” Brendan cried drunkenly, turning to this dashing fellow and holding out his arm and brandishing a fake sword. “Come to steal me booty?!” He shrieked, tucking the bottle of vodka under his other arm. He vaguely registered the resemblance between the two of them, feeling far too excited to do so.
Jack laughed. “That’s not all I’m going to steal, you handsome devil,” he teased. He held up the bottle of rum. “And I always bring me own unless I’m drinking at a pub. Can’t have anyone slipping poison into my drinks. Pirate’s rule of thumb.” With that, he uncapped the bottle and drank directly from it. He loved having someone to drink with. Drinking alone just made him feel… well, lonely of course.
I’ve got to keep it. [Open!]
steal-back-pennies-from-the-well:
Oops. Perhaps three whole bottles of vodka were too much. Brendan was starting to feel rather giggly and just a bit loopy. Laughing at himself, he went onto the beach, heading to the ocean for a quick dip to clear his head. Stumbling over the sand, he managed to wrestle his shirt off and kick off his shoes, nearly falling as he did it. Letting out another snicker, he waddled into the ocean, diving under and coming up cackling uncontrollably.
Jack watched the fellow outside from his window with mild amusement. Was this guy drunk off his rocker or what!? After a while, he couldn’t resist anymore. He grabbed a bottle of rum from his liquor cabinet and went outside to join the man. “‘Ello!” he called, chuckling at the man’s antics. Upon coming a little closer, Jack noticed the striking resemblance between them. “Er, bloody hell,” the pirate muttered, tilting his head to better study this dark-haired man.
Hung Ambition. [Open]
The sun was setting, the amber glow turning the beach into a deep russet and dark grey patchwork of shadows. One of them seemed to be moving, swinging idly from side to side. Dangling from a tree on the beach was Alaska. Her mouth was gagged and her eyes blindfolded, her hands bound in front of her. A noose was around her throat, and she was dangling about four or five feet off the ground. Alaska’s arms were caked with dried blood, and the dozens of cuts were angry and red. Her clothes were torn and hanging off of her in rags, and her hair was matted with blood. The fresh brand on the back of her left hand was so irritated that her whole skin around it was wine colored and throbbing.
Thankfully enough, she was alive. Unconscious, yes. Massive blood loss, yes. But dead? No. The noose was a fractionloose enough that it allowed a small amount of air in and out of her nose. Enough to keep her heart beating and her brain functioning, but not enough to regain consciousness. Another piece of rope was around her neck, and from it dangled a wooden sign that had the words, “A gift for Mr. Northman,” Painted on them rather haphazardly. Left there as a message, a warning to the whole island. A warning for what would happen to you if you forewarned anyone of their impending torture.
Jack was on his way home from one of the bars when he did a double take. Was something hanging from a tree? Ah, but it was a someone. The captain took off his tricorn hat and held it gravely to his chest before staggering forward quickly to check it out. Were they hanging pirates? If so… he’d better hide.
But as he got closer, he could see it was the girl he’d met the other day looking a lot worse for the wear. Of course, because she was dead. Well, he couldn’t just leave the poor thing hanging up there. Jack unsheathed his sword and used it to hack the rope, catching the girl easily in his arms as he dropped the weapon momentarily so she wouldn’t fall to the ground. What was that sign around her neck? Who was Mr. Northman? He couldn’t be bothered to think about it now. He undid the knot around her neck, noticing it wasn’t too tight. Was there still a chance…?
He leaned down to listen for a heartbeat at her chest, breathing, anything. And she was taking breaths, very faint ones. Quickly, Jack picked his sword back up and put it back in its sheath, letting the remainder of the rope fall to the ground. Then he carried her hastily toward the cabins, knowing there wasn’t a moment to spare. He had to get her conscious and clean her wounds, then find out who had done this.
Adjusting | Sparrow and Elena
Elena knew it wasn’t safe out there, but she wouldn’t keep being locked in her cabin like she had been for the whole week. Stefan could be right about all tension and danger happening on the island, but she had made sure it was ok, that no suspicious person was on the beach when she made her way there. As a plus, she was only going out alone when it had still day light. If she ever needed to get out at night, she would ask Stefan to keep her company. She knew he was only worried about her safety, especially when she had it threatened by a new vampire.With her shorts jeans and only the top of her black bikini, she walked along the shore, looking down at her feet getting wet and sandy with the small waves that crashed against them. When she looked up, she was very close from a man that, honestly, looked like a homeless. But when she got even closer and she could see him better, she recognized his clothing. And his hat. “Pirate?” She asked herself in a very soft and whispered voice, confuse. Apparently, she missed a lot. She even pondered if she wasn’t still with lack of memories, maybe some of them got lost in their way to her brain.
She stepped forward a few more times, slower. “Hi…?” Elena greeted him, lifting her hand to give him a small clumsy wave.
Jack looked over as he heard Elena’s footsteps approaching. He gawked at the young woman without realizing before putting his eyes back in his head, knowing that women didn’t appreciate the staring here. But how could he resist when they were practically in less than their underwear? And she was gorgeous, with her olive skin, slim figure, and innocent brown eyes that he could easily get lost in. Taking a breath to compose himself, Jack replied, “‘Hello.” He smiled up at her. Normally he had wittier lines for women who approached him, but he was rather at a loss here. It would take him some time to regain his footing. “What brings you all the way out here, love? You look a little lost,” he added, noticing her expression.
Adjusting | Open
Jack had learned by now that he had a room all to himself in one of the cabins, but he still preferred the beach. He preferred what he knew. The pirate was still having trouble accepting that women dressed very differently and there were no other pirates around… hell, he would have been glad to see Barbossa or Blackbeard. At least they would be some familiarity in this place where he knew nothing.
Well, there was one constant. Copious amounts of liquor, pubs that were quite lively at night, and the ocean. He made himself comfortable on the sand with his usual bottle of rum, unsure of how to approach any of the locals. None of them would believe he’d time traveled to the future from the 1700s. It was quite lonely.
( Anyone want to do anything with Jackie? I’m itching to play him more. :3 )
Never liked cats much. Allergic.
Hm… too bad. Well I will come back to introduce myself once I am back to normal then.
-sneezes again- Appreciate it. Sorry ‘bout that!
Never liked cats much. Allergic.
Do not be so mean.
-sneezes- Not mean, just speakin’ the truth, mate.
This doesn’t look at all like Tortuga.
Alaska wasn’t surprised when Jack went quiet. She hadn’t talked much herself when she first got here. Most the time had been her locked in her own room, with her guitar and few belongings. But hey, can’t stay sad forever, right? Alaska definitely went with the ‘you only live once, so just go fucking nuts’ motto. Smiling at the few people on the street, she headed down the main road.
“Definitely a confounded damn spit of land. I really do hate this place.” Alaska said bitterly, kicking at a bit of trash on the sidewalk and shaking her head. Heading towards the entrance to the bar, she was excited to see that it was quite barren of anyone. Nodding at Jack with a smile, she led them inside, taking a seat at the bar and ordering them both glasses of rum. “Feel more at home now?” She asked pleasantly, gesturing to Jack with a drink in her hand.
Jack raised an eyebrow and sighed softly to himself as she again expressed such intense feelings for this place. He hoped he wouldn’t hate it too, and that he’d have luck in getting out of it in a couple of days. He had important business to attend to. Jack stepped around the trash, and his expression was one of disappointment when he saw the bar was not lively at all. He loved being around people (wenches especially), music, dancing, and brawls. Jack grinned when she ordered them rum. “How’d ye know, love?” he asked, picking up his glass. “A lot better now, yes.”
Shaking her head, Alaska tried to clear her head of dark thoughts. Best to let this odd man figure out the island for himself. Who was she to shove her opinions on other people? She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile as a few people strayed in and out of the bar, all of them in a hurry. “God, can’t people just ever slow down anymore? They never know how to enjoy the little things.” Alaska shook her head; and, toasting her glass to Jack, she practically sang, “Here’s to the small things in life,” and downed her drink. Ordering them three more, she bounced in her chair excitedly as her large brown eyes lit up with an idea. “We should build a bonfire on the beach.”
Jack was disappointed too that nobody stayed in the bar long enough for him to do some people-watching. He had a feeling he had time traveled, but he wasn’t certain. Now, if this were Tia Dalma’s doing - sending him through time - he wouldn’t have had a hard time believing it. Of course, that wasn’t possible since she was millions of tiny crabs in the sea by now. “I suppose they don’t,” Jack agreed cluelessly, watching the bartender. She was wearing quite a funny outfit. Where were her skirts and corsets!? She was practically at work in her underwear! Jack clinked his glass with Alaska’s, unsure of how to match the girl’s happiness since he was so confused, and downed his rum in one go. “A bonfire sounds nice…” Something in him told him it was better to be responsible tonight and learn about his surroundings, but how many other times had he passed out on the beach, oblivious to the world around him? He’d been all right all those times.
This doesn’t look at all like Tortuga.
So, all the legends were real. Mermaids, zombies, now vampires and who knew what else. Jack wanted to be back on the Pearl where he belonged, with Gibbs snoring on a cot and slacking off as usual. Just… things needed to be normal. Or as close to normal as they ever got for him. And he’d had a whole fleet of ships, too! His compass was still with Gibbs. All that had been left behind. He was very depressed indeed for a few moments. When he finally spoke again, they were nearing town with all its lights, music, and people milling about. It was much more comforting than the beach, partially because it reminded him of Tortuga. Now, if he had seen this part of the place first, he might have been fooled. “Well, I think it’s safe to say you know this confounded spit of land better than I do. Where to, dearie?”
Alaska wasn’t surprised when Jack went quiet. She hadn’t talked much herself when she first got here. Most the time had been her locked in her own room, with her guitar and few belongings. But hey, can’t stay sad forever, right? Alaska definitely went with the ‘you only live once, so just go fucking nuts’ motto. Smiling at the few people on the street, she headed down the main road.
“Definitely a confounded damn spit of land. I really do hate this place.” Alaska said bitterly, kicking at a bit of trash on the sidewalk and shaking her head. Heading towards the entrance to the bar, she was excited to see that it was quite barren of anyone. Nodding at Jack with a smile, she led them inside, taking a seat at the bar and ordering them both glasses of rum. “Feel more at home now?” She asked pleasantly, gesturing to Jack with a drink in her hand.
Jack raised an eyebrow and sighed softly to himself as she again expressed such intense feelings for this place. He hoped he wouldn’t hate it too, and that he’d have luck in getting out of it in a couple of days. He had important business to attend to. Jack stepped around the trash, and his expression was one of disappointment when he saw the bar was not lively at all. He loved being around people (wenches especially), music, dancing, and brawls. Jack grinned when she ordered them rum. “How’d ye know, love?” he asked, picking up his glass. “A lot better now, yes.”
ooc: Jack is looking for his Angelica! (Or Elizabeth Swann)
A Barbossa, Blackbeard, or Will Turner would be amazing to have around as well.
This doesn’t look at all like Tortuga.
“Aye, then what you read is correct. And I certainly hope it isn’t.” He tried to push off the unpleasant thoughts. They were the last thing he needed when he wasn’t feeling his best. The angels wouldn’t be so bad, but he didn’t really believe in them. And the vampires? That was too dreadful to believe. Jack gave her a curious, sideways glance as she got all philosophical on him, then smiled and shook his head. She was quite different from most of the women he knew, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Except for the clothes. The clothes were so revealing. They made him think naughty thoughts. He shuddered as a particularly strong breeze came over them and tried pulling his shirt more tightly to his body. “Catch you while you’re sleeping? That’s the cruelest way they could possibly get you. Isn’t bloody fair.”“Shouldn’t be, there’s far too many people here for it to be the Locker. The inhabitants, the scientists. It’s crazy.” Alaska hadn’t even met all of them yet. What else could there possibly be on this island, anyway? “I wouldn’t worry about it too much if I were you. If you don’t bother them, they’ll leave you alone.” And boy was that the truth. Shaking her sleeves until they fell over her hands, she wrapped her arms around her body against the cold, thankful they were about halfway there.
Alaska had never really had to worry about her figure. She was about average height, and skinny enough that you could see her ribs and spine. But not without her good supply of curves and plentiful bosom. Her long, layered black hair was getting pulled in the braid, and she took out the tie, letting her hair blow back in the wind as she walked. “Normally I’m a light sleeper, but they must have knocked me out or something. Can’t remember. Went to bed at home, and woke up here.” She said with a slightly awkward smile, messing with her hair.
So, all the legends were real. Mermaids, zombies, now vampires and who knew what else. Jack wanted to be back on the Pearl where he belonged, with Gibbs snoring on a cot and slacking off as usual. Just… things needed to be normal. Or as close to normal as they ever got for him. And he’d had a whole fleet of ships, too! His compass was still with Gibbs. All that had been left behind. He was very depressed indeed for a few moments. When he finally spoke again, they were nearing town with all its lights, music, and people milling about. It was much more comforting than the beach, partially because it reminded him of Tortuga. Now, if he had seen this part of the place first, he might have been fooled. “Well, I think it’s safe to say you know this confounded spit of land better than I do. Where to, dearie?”
