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tampered2006-07-20 04:24 pm
13-year-captain.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-07-20 04:24 pm
Log: Complete (Duel)
When: 5pm, July 20th at the carousel
Rating: PG for mild language
Characters: Jack Sparrow and James Norrington
Summary: Jack and the Commodore meet as scheduled for their duel, but Norrington arrives unarmed.
Log:
Whistling cheerfully and brushing the remaining encrusted salt that was left on his jacket from his brief and frantic skinny-dipping session, Ex-Commodore Norrington strolled along the street to that ridiculous gaudy merry-go-round in the centre of the city. Today, James Norrington was a man with a plan, oh yes. He checked his pocketwatch, and then remembered it had stopped about a day ago. Oh well, it couldn't be long before five.
Jack Sparrow has always been the sort to arrive fashionably late and make a grand entrance. Why should a duel to the death be any different? He arrives from the opposite side of the carousel and hops onto the edge to let it bring him around to Norrington's side; hanging over the edge as he holds on by one hand on a pole. He hops off and staggers towards his opponent with a wide grin. "Right, so, where shall I stand when I shoot you, eh? I'll give you the option of choosing somewhere soft to land, as I'm a reasonable man and all that."
Norrington holds up his arms and smiles at the pirate. "Wherever you like. I'm unarmed. I didn't come here to kill you. I came to talk." He turns around, making it obvious that he is carrying neither pistol nor sword.
This is a trick, and surely the strangest trick Jack has ever been privy to. He leans back and squints at Norrington, as if some hidden weapon may appear in this manner. After a moment, he pulls his own pistol, waving it haphazardly at the man. "So, then I could just shoot you and be done with it?" The pirate raises the gun with a smirk before shrugging and letting it fall to his side. "Look, mate, when I'm looking for conversation, I rarely make mention of pistols at twenty paces when I do the inviting. This is exactly why you don't have yourself a girl." Jack holsters his flintlock and cocks his head with curiosity; waiting to see what needs talking about.
He'd been hoping this would work, but it was still a relief to see Sparrow disarm. "And if I'd asked you to meet up for tea and a chat, what do you think your response would have been?" Norrington replied, raising an eyebrow. "Have some sense, man. Anyway, I'll make it as quick as possible. Whilst I was awake today....don't argue about the dream issue, I'll get on to that.... whilst I was awake today I ran into some of the crew of the Black Pearl. That fat one and the fellow with the disturbing wooden eye to be precise. And they told me about your...accident....and the disappearances of Miss Swann and Mister Turner. " He turned to face the pirate. "The three of you've been right all along. I don't know how any of us are here, but somehow this place is real. It's astonishing."
Jack rather wishes the ex-Commodore had asked him to tea. He wouldn't have gone, but it would have been the best laugh he's had in days. Ah well, more's the pity. Sparrow listens with increasing attention as Norrington speaks. Something darkens in his eyes and there's a twitch to his lips at the word 'accident'. Interesting way of putting it, really. "Yes. Right. It's all very mystical and astounding. I've quite had my fill of it, personally. .... So you really do get t'leave when you wake?" He won't go into why he, personally, doesn't wake from this. He doesn't care to discuss it.
Norrington nods in agreement. "Yes. I seem to just vanish. Keeps happening at the most bloody annoying times as well, so if I vanish into thin air, you'll know why. To the point, anyway. I have something for you. I'm returning it. A gesture of good will, if you will. And by way of explanation, when I woke up in the real world this morning I found myself missing a stocking and several buttons. I'm sure you remember why - I left them in your quarters." He smiled wryly. "The important about this is: They stayed here when I didn't. Just as this wound you inflicted on me on my first visit here.." He held up his left hand where Jack's sword had cut it when he brushed it away. "Remained with me when I awoke as well. Don't bother asking me to hold onto you until I wake up, I haven't been able to bring anything out of here but injuries and nausea." As he spoke, he fished around inside the inner pocket of his jacket, and extracted something about the size of a fist, red and bulging. He held out his hand to Sparrow and offered it to him. "Here. You know what this is. I was the one who took it from you."
The pirate can't help but chuckle at the mention of 'holding onto Norrington until he wakes up'. There's an excellent joke in that, but even he doesn't want to go after it. Jack's attention is fully on every word as the fallen naval officer speaks. He neither slouches nor sways as he listens.... There is too much of importance in this to let himself be distracted. When the heart is taken from James' shirt and presented, Jack's eyes are harsh and cruel. He draws his pistol in a flash and pulls back the hammer. "If the disappearing is so bloody inconvenient, I can stop it for you altogether! You wretched, miserable bastard! You cost me everything! Give me one reason not to shoot, and do realize you are very short on time and my patience."
Norrington's upper lip twitches into a half sneer. "I can give you two excellent reasons, Sparrow, shoot me now, and in the first case you would find me back on my feet in an hour or so, and in the second case you'd be stuck with me here forever. Now take the damned heart." He shook it at Jack, hand open. "I need you to keep that safe here where Jones and Beckett can't get at it until we can all get back to the real world and sort out this mess. I was going to take it to Beckett and exchange it for my pardon and position, but I've changed my mind. After all, what sort of use is a Commodore going slowly mad from living one life awake and one life asleep? And to tell the truth…" He paused here to look away. "..Since the other day, I've been finding it more and more difficult to absolutely hate you with every fiber of my being. Ah, damn it!" He clenched the fist not holding the heart. "That doesn't matter. As soon as I wake up, I shall be heading to Port Royal to release Governor Weatherby Swann from unjust imprisonment. Then, if you will be so kind as to give me the directions, I shall attempt to find your little negro witch and see if she has the necessary black arts to release a man's soul from purgatory. I've been speaking with the odd-looking chap in the garden with the black hair and he seems to think it's possible to create a new body for a dead man, since yours is apparently currently in the belly of a Kraken. I intend to get the instructions from him. Until then, I propose truce, between you and I. We'll get no-where if we're forever at each other's throats. What do you say?"
The hand holding Jack's pistol wavers a moment and the turmoil behind his eyes is almost a visible thing. Every time he's put his trust in anything or anyone it has earned him nothing but suffering, still, he lowers the weapon again. How much can any man do to him now? There's nowhere further down to go. He snatches away the beating, disembodied heart and tucks it into his shirt. "A truce, then..." He offers an obviously false grin which fades quickly. "But, should you cross me on this, I will make it my new favourite hobby to kill you in some new fashion every day til eternity runs out." Jack holsters the gun and is quiet a moment to feel the strange beat of the foreign heart against his chest. If all of this fails, he could kill Jones from here and have some amount of revenge at the least. "If you're going on my behalf, as you say, then I'll give you all the directions you need to speak with Tia Dalma. This is to include simple warnings you might want to be aware of: She'll know if you're lying, mate. Don't try it." To be honest, Jack has no idea if Tia has this ability or not. She's just always been able to catch him in his lies. "So we're to end all our bickering and join together in the fine and noble goal of escaping this accursed city? ... I'm good with that." He grins oddly and leans in to poke Norrington in the center of his chest. "And I can't say I'm as excited about the idea of leaving you dead in the streets as I once was, either." He has to look away and muffle a laugh. "About this new body, though.... It will be as nice as this one, won't it? Be a pity to trade down. Savvy?"
The Ex-commodore quells the urge to break the finger that just poked him. "No idea. You'll have to ask the Angel fellow. I suppose it'll be identical. I think he has some way of growing them from plant material. If that doesn't work, I suppose your disembodied spirit will just have to possess someone pretty. Metaphysics isn't really my area." He smirks. The idea that the voodoo woman might be able to tell if he's lying worries him a little. He'd have to tell only the truth, or at least those parts of the truth that were entirely necessary to his plans, and just leave out other, less necessary pieces of information. Like what would happen to Sparrow and his friends after they returned to the real world. "On my word as a gentleman, Captain Sparrow, if I betray you, you can try out every method of painful death your disturbing mind can produce. Will you shake on it?"
Captain Sparrow laughs a bit at the idea of possessing the body of his choosing; still standing too close and sending up foul and rum heavy breath to the poor Commodore's nose. He leans back a ways and looks terribly amused and smug over the possible eventuality of killing Norrington many times over. With a rough shifting of his weight, he thrusts out his right hand for the shaking. "That, I think I can agree to. And you've my word...as a gentleman, of course...that I'll not kill you until such time as it's appropriate."
Trying his best not to inhale too deeply, Norrington takes the captain's hand and shakes it in a firm, sincere, manly fashion. "Likewise. Now, when you return to your amusingly titled ship, you may tell its lovely namesake that I shall see her dear father safely on a ship to Portsmouth, or die in the trying. And possibly end up back here permanently, so if you see me a little earlier than expected, that'll probably be why. There are still some boys back at Port Royal who are loyal to me and not Beckett, I'm sure of it, so I'm fairly certain of success." He lets go of Jack's hand and reaches into his other breast pocket to produce his rewound watch. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I've set an alarm clock for half five, and there's a physician waiting around the corner from my place of rest who will undoubtedly be pleased to discover he won't have to remove lead shot from my person." He checks the watch. "Three, two, one." He tips his hat politely. "Good evening to you, Captain Sp..." And with that, he vanishes into thin air.
Jack starts at the sudden disappearance, and gives a cautious look around to be certain it isn't just some sort of illusion. Once sure of the Commodore's absence, he takes the heart from his shirt and bounces it once in his palm. "The wind seems to have changed for the better. Well, better for everyone but you, eh Davy? But then, what good can come to a man who’s thrice buggered and bedamned already? Ha." He tucks the heart away and makes his way back to building eight, a much more hopeful man.
Rating: PG for mild language
Characters: Jack Sparrow and James Norrington
Summary: Jack and the Commodore meet as scheduled for their duel, but Norrington arrives unarmed.
Log:
Whistling cheerfully and brushing the remaining encrusted salt that was left on his jacket from his brief and frantic skinny-dipping session, Ex-Commodore Norrington strolled along the street to that ridiculous gaudy merry-go-round in the centre of the city. Today, James Norrington was a man with a plan, oh yes. He checked his pocketwatch, and then remembered it had stopped about a day ago. Oh well, it couldn't be long before five.
Jack Sparrow has always been the sort to arrive fashionably late and make a grand entrance. Why should a duel to the death be any different? He arrives from the opposite side of the carousel and hops onto the edge to let it bring him around to Norrington's side; hanging over the edge as he holds on by one hand on a pole. He hops off and staggers towards his opponent with a wide grin. "Right, so, where shall I stand when I shoot you, eh? I'll give you the option of choosing somewhere soft to land, as I'm a reasonable man and all that."
Norrington holds up his arms and smiles at the pirate. "Wherever you like. I'm unarmed. I didn't come here to kill you. I came to talk." He turns around, making it obvious that he is carrying neither pistol nor sword.
This is a trick, and surely the strangest trick Jack has ever been privy to. He leans back and squints at Norrington, as if some hidden weapon may appear in this manner. After a moment, he pulls his own pistol, waving it haphazardly at the man. "So, then I could just shoot you and be done with it?" The pirate raises the gun with a smirk before shrugging and letting it fall to his side. "Look, mate, when I'm looking for conversation, I rarely make mention of pistols at twenty paces when I do the inviting. This is exactly why you don't have yourself a girl." Jack holsters his flintlock and cocks his head with curiosity; waiting to see what needs talking about.
He'd been hoping this would work, but it was still a relief to see Sparrow disarm. "And if I'd asked you to meet up for tea and a chat, what do you think your response would have been?" Norrington replied, raising an eyebrow. "Have some sense, man. Anyway, I'll make it as quick as possible. Whilst I was awake today....don't argue about the dream issue, I'll get on to that.... whilst I was awake today I ran into some of the crew of the Black Pearl. That fat one and the fellow with the disturbing wooden eye to be precise. And they told me about your...accident....and the disappearances of Miss Swann and Mister Turner. " He turned to face the pirate. "The three of you've been right all along. I don't know how any of us are here, but somehow this place is real. It's astonishing."
Jack rather wishes the ex-Commodore had asked him to tea. He wouldn't have gone, but it would have been the best laugh he's had in days. Ah well, more's the pity. Sparrow listens with increasing attention as Norrington speaks. Something darkens in his eyes and there's a twitch to his lips at the word 'accident'. Interesting way of putting it, really. "Yes. Right. It's all very mystical and astounding. I've quite had my fill of it, personally. .... So you really do get t'leave when you wake?" He won't go into why he, personally, doesn't wake from this. He doesn't care to discuss it.
Norrington nods in agreement. "Yes. I seem to just vanish. Keeps happening at the most bloody annoying times as well, so if I vanish into thin air, you'll know why. To the point, anyway. I have something for you. I'm returning it. A gesture of good will, if you will. And by way of explanation, when I woke up in the real world this morning I found myself missing a stocking and several buttons. I'm sure you remember why - I left them in your quarters." He smiled wryly. "The important about this is: They stayed here when I didn't. Just as this wound you inflicted on me on my first visit here.." He held up his left hand where Jack's sword had cut it when he brushed it away. "Remained with me when I awoke as well. Don't bother asking me to hold onto you until I wake up, I haven't been able to bring anything out of here but injuries and nausea." As he spoke, he fished around inside the inner pocket of his jacket, and extracted something about the size of a fist, red and bulging. He held out his hand to Sparrow and offered it to him. "Here. You know what this is. I was the one who took it from you."
The pirate can't help but chuckle at the mention of 'holding onto Norrington until he wakes up'. There's an excellent joke in that, but even he doesn't want to go after it. Jack's attention is fully on every word as the fallen naval officer speaks. He neither slouches nor sways as he listens.... There is too much of importance in this to let himself be distracted. When the heart is taken from James' shirt and presented, Jack's eyes are harsh and cruel. He draws his pistol in a flash and pulls back the hammer. "If the disappearing is so bloody inconvenient, I can stop it for you altogether! You wretched, miserable bastard! You cost me everything! Give me one reason not to shoot, and do realize you are very short on time and my patience."
Norrington's upper lip twitches into a half sneer. "I can give you two excellent reasons, Sparrow, shoot me now, and in the first case you would find me back on my feet in an hour or so, and in the second case you'd be stuck with me here forever. Now take the damned heart." He shook it at Jack, hand open. "I need you to keep that safe here where Jones and Beckett can't get at it until we can all get back to the real world and sort out this mess. I was going to take it to Beckett and exchange it for my pardon and position, but I've changed my mind. After all, what sort of use is a Commodore going slowly mad from living one life awake and one life asleep? And to tell the truth…" He paused here to look away. "..Since the other day, I've been finding it more and more difficult to absolutely hate you with every fiber of my being. Ah, damn it!" He clenched the fist not holding the heart. "That doesn't matter. As soon as I wake up, I shall be heading to Port Royal to release Governor Weatherby Swann from unjust imprisonment. Then, if you will be so kind as to give me the directions, I shall attempt to find your little negro witch and see if she has the necessary black arts to release a man's soul from purgatory. I've been speaking with the odd-looking chap in the garden with the black hair and he seems to think it's possible to create a new body for a dead man, since yours is apparently currently in the belly of a Kraken. I intend to get the instructions from him. Until then, I propose truce, between you and I. We'll get no-where if we're forever at each other's throats. What do you say?"
The hand holding Jack's pistol wavers a moment and the turmoil behind his eyes is almost a visible thing. Every time he's put his trust in anything or anyone it has earned him nothing but suffering, still, he lowers the weapon again. How much can any man do to him now? There's nowhere further down to go. He snatches away the beating, disembodied heart and tucks it into his shirt. "A truce, then..." He offers an obviously false grin which fades quickly. "But, should you cross me on this, I will make it my new favourite hobby to kill you in some new fashion every day til eternity runs out." Jack holsters the gun and is quiet a moment to feel the strange beat of the foreign heart against his chest. If all of this fails, he could kill Jones from here and have some amount of revenge at the least. "If you're going on my behalf, as you say, then I'll give you all the directions you need to speak with Tia Dalma. This is to include simple warnings you might want to be aware of: She'll know if you're lying, mate. Don't try it." To be honest, Jack has no idea if Tia has this ability or not. She's just always been able to catch him in his lies. "So we're to end all our bickering and join together in the fine and noble goal of escaping this accursed city? ... I'm good with that." He grins oddly and leans in to poke Norrington in the center of his chest. "And I can't say I'm as excited about the idea of leaving you dead in the streets as I once was, either." He has to look away and muffle a laugh. "About this new body, though.... It will be as nice as this one, won't it? Be a pity to trade down. Savvy?"
The Ex-commodore quells the urge to break the finger that just poked him. "No idea. You'll have to ask the Angel fellow. I suppose it'll be identical. I think he has some way of growing them from plant material. If that doesn't work, I suppose your disembodied spirit will just have to possess someone pretty. Metaphysics isn't really my area." He smirks. The idea that the voodoo woman might be able to tell if he's lying worries him a little. He'd have to tell only the truth, or at least those parts of the truth that were entirely necessary to his plans, and just leave out other, less necessary pieces of information. Like what would happen to Sparrow and his friends after they returned to the real world. "On my word as a gentleman, Captain Sparrow, if I betray you, you can try out every method of painful death your disturbing mind can produce. Will you shake on it?"
Captain Sparrow laughs a bit at the idea of possessing the body of his choosing; still standing too close and sending up foul and rum heavy breath to the poor Commodore's nose. He leans back a ways and looks terribly amused and smug over the possible eventuality of killing Norrington many times over. With a rough shifting of his weight, he thrusts out his right hand for the shaking. "That, I think I can agree to. And you've my word...as a gentleman, of course...that I'll not kill you until such time as it's appropriate."
Trying his best not to inhale too deeply, Norrington takes the captain's hand and shakes it in a firm, sincere, manly fashion. "Likewise. Now, when you return to your amusingly titled ship, you may tell its lovely namesake that I shall see her dear father safely on a ship to Portsmouth, or die in the trying. And possibly end up back here permanently, so if you see me a little earlier than expected, that'll probably be why. There are still some boys back at Port Royal who are loyal to me and not Beckett, I'm sure of it, so I'm fairly certain of success." He lets go of Jack's hand and reaches into his other breast pocket to produce his rewound watch. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I've set an alarm clock for half five, and there's a physician waiting around the corner from my place of rest who will undoubtedly be pleased to discover he won't have to remove lead shot from my person." He checks the watch. "Three, two, one." He tips his hat politely. "Good evening to you, Captain Sp..." And with that, he vanishes into thin air.
Jack starts at the sudden disappearance, and gives a cautious look around to be certain it isn't just some sort of illusion. Once sure of the Commodore's absence, he takes the heart from his shirt and bounces it once in his palm. "The wind seems to have changed for the better. Well, better for everyone but you, eh Davy? But then, what good can come to a man who’s thrice buggered and bedamned already? Ha." He tucks the heart away and makes his way back to building eight, a much more hopeful man.