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.

[heart0foak.livejournal.com]

"Oh, positively." The Commodore said, cheerfully. He frowned and looked at his hand. "No need to worry about this, it's not real...hurts though.." He frowned again, then looked up, distracted by the arrival of more people.