Log: Complete-ish

[13-year-captain.livejournal.com]

When: Late afternoon. July 12th
Rating: PG, thus far
Characters: Jack Sparrow (open to all)
Summary: Jack's cabin fever and general mental state have been worsening since the second he arrived in the city. Today is more than he can take. He's gone in search of rum and escape from his thoughts and the images haunting him. Now he's wandering the center of town, shouting at reflections and worse. CAUTION!!: SPOILERS!

Log:

There is only so much a man can deny, even in the name of preserving his delicate sanity. Jack Sparrow doesn't dare to contemplate death. It has never been something he let himself see as a possibility. The sickness that hangs over him and his arrival in this dark place have been nagging reminders of things he'd rather not let himself believe...even if he knows it to be true. Now, though, the facts are laid out before him in every pane of glass, every puddle, every bright and shining thing.
There was no escaping the kraken.
The Pearl is gone forever.
The world no longer holds a place for Captain Jack Sparrow.


He made his way underground, but even the dark depths of this living hell were not enough to save him the visions. Jack laid what coin he had on the bar and took two large bottles of rum. One was mostly gone before he made it back to the surface and what remained of it was smashed through a shop window to kill the image of a great and terrible squid.
Now he wanders the town square; drunk, frightened, and mad as ten bales of hay. Jack brings the rum to his lips with one hand as the other brandishes his cutlass against any who approach him. He spins to face a window only to see the sweet eyes of a young woman looking cold as forged steel as she brings chains to bind him. The huge and ominous figure of Davey Jones smiles from behind her and waits for Jack's soul.

"No!! Elizabeth!! You'll not bloody have me, you harpy!" He slashes at the glass with his sword, marring the surface with cracks and scratches, but failing to kill the nightmare. Jack drops down limply to the street, staring at the window and watching her come for him. He can see himself being bound and he hates the feelings that look in her eyes stirs in him. "...That which vexes all men..."

Comments

[heart0foak.livejournal.com]

Whistling a jaunty shanty, Norrington strolled down the street, admiring the strange and interesting architecture his dream world appeared to be laying on for him. He spotted Jack Sparrow kneeling in the street and it caused him to perk up a little, as the sight of your hated enemy on his knees looking bothered will generally do.

"Sparrow!" He said, cheerfully. "Nice to see you in my dream as usual. This is a rather elaborate one, isn't it? All the details... I found this box with letters on it, and then when you pressed the letters they appeared on the box! And then there's this window thing, eh? Absolutely splendid." He pointed at the window. "Look, there's me falling off the horse when I was twelve and embarassing myself in front of father and his friends. Haunted me for twenty years, that has, now it keeps replaying itself in front of me, I can see how absurd it is. Watch out, James, he's going to throw you...Oops, there I go! Hahahaha."

He squinted slightly to the left of the huddled captain. "You drunk I'm think, don't you?"

[13-year-captain.livejournal.com]

Jack jerks his head sharply to glare up at the former commodore. His lip curls in a sneer as his eyes try to focus on the man. Once he has his head somewhere near together, he's dragging himself clumsily to his feet; sword scraping roughly against the concrete.

The pirate's sword comes up to wave it's point at Norrington.
"Dream? Oh, this is no dream, mate. This is a nightmare brought on me by the same sweet lass what took your life from you."
He sways and swings the bottle to his mouth with the inertia of his body's tilt, taking a long pull that leaves dark rum dripping down his beard.

"I'm trapped here, mate, for good and ever..." Jack grins and stumbles forward, bringing his sword closer to James; the tip just an inch or so from the man's throat.
"Care to be trapped as well?"

A sudden look of confusion comes over him and Jack leans his head back to scan Norrington over with his eyes. A slow wicked grin spreads on him.
"You're fabulously bloody pissed, commodore. Well done."
He laughs, but doesn't drop his blade.

[heart0foak.livejournal.com]

"I assure you, I've only had a few ales in that nice place underground." Norrington said, brushing the rather sharp blade aside carelessly and not really paying attention to what damage it did to his hand, or could do to anything else. After all, he was dreaming, what could it do? He shook his head, trying to clear it, and vaguely wondering what sweet lass did what. "Dream, nightmare, doesn't matter. I say, any of that going spare?"

[13-year-captain.livejournal.com]

It had been his intention to improve his mood by threatening Norrington...maybe killing him. Now he's terribly confused. The man is clearly drunk, but he just willingly cut himself on Jack's sword. That's unsettling.

Jack pulls away from James a little and shrinks back, pulling the rum bottle tightly to his chest and holding his sword more defensively.

"No. Mine! ... " He narrows his eyes at Norrington, then leans in a bit. "You've gone completely daft... did you know?" Sparrow pulls back sharply, taking a step away as he eyes the blood on the ex-commodore's hand.

[10thdiv-haineko.livejournal.com]

Dull eyes stare down at the Town Square from a nearby rooftop, watching the two men down below. She already knows who one of them is, but the other, she's never seen, even though it's obvious the Captain knows him.

Part of her wants to jump down and see if he's alright; see how badly he's been affected by the latest of the City's pranks, but she's wary... the fountain is so close... and all the glass down there would just show her what she doesn't want to see any more of.

Still...

She jumps off of the rooftop and watches them from ground level, careful to keep her eyes on the men and nothing around her.

[swansflight.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth had been sitting by the fountain; though lying by the fountain would have been a more accurate description. The fountain had come a sort of temporary home for her, the place she had chosen as a meeting ground. It wasn't the most comfortable or safest place to stay, but it was a common area, and the best place to start her search for the others.

Elizabeth had been tinkering with her box (laptop, was it called?) when a pair of voices, no, more, interrupted. Two of them were familiar, while the last voice was unidentifiable. Jack? She sat up quickly, and glanced hopefully around the fountain. Sure enough, there was Jack. Punch drunk, by the look of him, but still alive (or at least in the appearance of living). She would have called out to Norrington and Jack, but one of Jack's comments stopped her. She stared at Jack with disbelief, before finally speaking up. "Jack you... What did you just call me?"

[ooc: Sorry the log is in past tense (or something nearly the same DX). I can switch over to present if it makes it a bit easier. Oh, my AIM is heller kaffee. I forgot to tell you.]

[13-year-captain.livejournal.com]

The pirate turns on her slowly, staggering back a bit, and raising his sword again. Surely she's here to bind him and deliver him to Jones or his locker. He's seen it coming a thousand times today.
"El..Elizabeth?" His eyes widen to take the image in entirely before narrowing again.

"Have you come to kill me again? I'm not sure a man can die twice, or what becomes of him, should it happen."
Her question is ignored entirely and Jack completely forgets Norrington's presence. His eyes focus on her with some dark emotion swirling there in those tawny depths.

[swansflight.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth stares at the pirate, a look of concern, guilt and digust on her face. He's obviously drunk, but his drunken state didn't make his words sting less. She wanted to say she was sorry, that her actions had been rash and that she had regretted them ever since.

"Haven't you learned your limit with that vile drink yet?" She says instead, and looks away.

[13-year-captain.livejournal.com]

"I'm still standing, am I not? When the threat of falling off of the earth seems more serious, I'll have hit my limit, sweet."

He takes a swaying and staggering step closer to her. Jack pastes on a wide grin, but it's so clearly fake that it's unsettling. That raised corner of his mouth falters here and there like he may give it up and simply look sick or frightened at any moment. It's certainly looming there.

"Elizabeth... I don' feel at all well. Tell me, luv, am I dead? Truly? Why then do you come to torment me?"

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

At some point later on in the day, Henry walks by. He's hunched over, holding his hands on his head and half-covering his face. He had to get away from that room, the apartment and its incessant ticking. He seems to be trying to stare at the ground, but occasionally his eyes dart around elsewhere.

They are, however, watching the ground when he runs headlong into Jack. He jumps backwards and looks up at him. Henry's shaking all over and doesn't seem to be all there- his eyes don't focus on Jack. "'m sorry....didn't mean to- to-" His words are so mumbled that even he doesn't understand them. He lets the sentence drop.

[13-year-captain.livejournal.com]

The physical contact is sudden and Jack is more than a little on edge. When he turns on Henry, it's pistol drawn and hammer back.
"What do you want with me?! Bloody well speak or let powder and shot do all the talking here today!"
His hand shakes, threatening to loose the trigger before he even means to.

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

His eyes widen considerably at the gun trained on him. He looks up to make sure the man holding it is still not the 11121 man. But Jack bears such little resemblance to Walter Sullivan that it's almost funny. Henry laughs a bit, nervously. "Oh- I- I'm sorry, it's not you...I couldn't watch it all, but I had to get out-"

He wonders what exactly he's trying to explain to the man. Or why he's bothering. What could Jack do to him that's any worse than what's been playing over and over in his head all day?

[13-year-captain.livejournal.com]

"Watch what all? D'you see it too, then? You're best not to watch it! Not any of it! It's my bloody life, and not some three penny play for you to get a laugh from!"

Jack is very single minded and self-centered and it's beyond him to think anyone is seeing anything aside from what he sees. Norrington's ramblings on his own memories playing before him were half written off as drunken nonsense and Jack isn't thinking clearly to begin with.

[secondturn.livejournal.com]

Will wanders into the square with the bottle of rum heavy in his hand. He's not entirely sure about what's happened, but he prays, silently, that Jack hasn't gotten himself in too much trouble.

He sees Jack arguing with a distant figure, whose voice sounds an awful lot like...

The Commodore's?

Will doesn't have much time. The sight pounds in his head, a constant reminder. He's walking a lot faster than he should.

Too quietly: "Jack?"

And in a too quiet gesture, he offers the rum, hoping that he's not worsening what evil has come upon his father's friend, his Captain.

[13-year-captain.livejournal.com]

The pirate only barely hears his name. He wheels around in a slow, swaying turn and works to focus his eyes on William. Jack's eyes are glassy and wild and everything in his manner says he's either quite drunk or gone quite mad. Possibly both.

"Will! Good lad!" He snatches the rum from the boy, turning and tossing what's left of his other bottle through the nearest window. In the bottle, surely, lies salvation from this torment. Though, in the bottle, all he sees is his trusted first-mate and every man in his crew leaving him for dead on a pathetic little island. He uncorks the bottle and swallows down foul memory.
"Hell has come to haunt me, Will Turner. All we need do is destroy everything what reflects image or light. Help me...?"

[secondturn.livejournal.com]

His eyes...

They had always said Jack Sparrow had gone daft before. But Will had never seen anybody look at him like that.

He tightens his grip around nothing, knowing now that he shouldn't have even brought the rum. Being mad is one thing, but being drunk is another, and putting the two together would be nothing but trouble to Jack. Especially to Jack.

He freezes for a moment at Jack's request, and something very small comes out of his mouth, not wanting to upset him: "You...you just don't look at anything that reflects, right? And then you'll be safe...won't you?"

[heart0foak.livejournal.com]

"Oh, that's splendid, just forget all about me." The Commodore said, waving a hand, exasperatedly. "Excuse me, I'm going to watch my first naval defeat in that fountain over there. Should be good for a laugh." He said, bitterly. He tipped his battered hat at the newcomers, swaying slightly. "Miss Swann, Mister Turner, that's right give him all the rum." He turned to salute Henry and Matsumoto. "Sir, miss...er I'm dreadfully sorry, do I know you two?"

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

Jack has a pistol aimed at him at the moment, so Henry does little more than glance over to the Commodore and shake his head. "S-sorry..."

[OOC: This is, presumably, before Henry is shot. >_> ]

[heart0foak.livejournal.com]

((OOC - Yup!!))

[grievous-harm.livejournal.com]

clik-clik....clik-clik

The faint whir of servos punctuated by a rhythmic clicking marked the distinctive stride of a cloaked figure.


Irritably mumbling in his mother-toungue, that guttural, growling language, General Grievous stalked the streets looking for something to kill in order to pass the time.

Upon passing a bit of shop window that still possessed enough glass to caste a reflection, the mumbling morphed into the growl-shriek of a war cry.

Using a foot to grasp and remove a parking meter, he dropped to all-fours and hurled it through the glass with an almighty crash.

Silent save the insessant cough, he stalked on.


Soon human voices caused his audio antennae to swivel in the direction of the dirty, disheveled, and now shouting knot of humans.

"Scum. Refuse...." He muttered in the common toungue before reverting back to Kaleesh.
These pathetic creatures would be no challenge, therefore Grievous did not even bother to pull and ignite a lightsaber.

The whir-click's rhythm increased as the towering cyborg hurried over to the pirates.


Grievous had every intention of grasping the tattoine refuses' skull in one six-fingered hand, then crushing it without delay, when he realized his audio input was no longer registering the monotonous ticking.

"You, humans! What is the meaning of this?! What manner of interrogation is this madness, and what do you wishto gain by it!!!!" growled the general as he loomed over the assembled group.

[heart0foak.livejournal.com]

Norrington watched the various altercations, slightly bemusedly. Then he watched a huge, six-armed monster click and whir over to the melee and demand answers.

He shook his head and held up a hand.

"No. This is a little too insane for my tastes now. Gentlemen, dead and otherwise, ladies, huge whirring monsters, good afternoon all." He tipped his hat politely, turned smartly on his heel and marched off.

((OOC - Ok. This log is too crazy for me to cope with. JTHXBYE))

[13-year-captain.livejournal.com]

[heart0foak.livejournal.com]

[grievous-harm.livejournal.com]

A loud report from a crude projectile weapon seemed to be his answer.

Even Grievous was rather confused by the seemingly random act of violence that had followed a short but heated nonsensical conversation.

The scruffy hatless human announced it's departure, and then speedily hurried off while Grievous could only wheeze and contemplate the mortally wounded human laying just beyond his clawed feet.

Blinking twice, he looked back to see another scruffier human take the departed one's place.

Everyone seemed to be ignoring the bleeding one, just as they ignored the general, so Grievous crouched beside him.

Perhaps this one would be less reticent to talk now that it was about to expire.

*cough* " You seem far too accepting of this fate, human." *cough cough*

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

His eyes roll slightly to look up at the cloaked figure over him. They widen slightly, as this was...really not expected. But just about anything would make some sort of sense at this point.

He smiles slightly, blood starting to bubble through his lips. And he gurgles something that might be, "It's...better...this way."