tampered | Oh look, they're getting drunk again, what a surprise. (Log, Incomplete)

When; Evening of Truth Day
Rating; Oooh, this could go anywhere.
Characters; Captain Sparrow

13_year_captain and the Erstwhile Commodore Norrington

heart0foak (Did you miss us? XD). Other members of the Pirates Crew and their chums and acquaintances (Jan, Lieutenant Matsumoto, Agent Sands, etc.) should also feel free to stick their oars in for Great Drinking and truth telling.
Summary; In order to get Sparrow to leave him alone at Zack's party for Evelynne, Norrington challenged the pirate to show him a good time his next night in the city. Now he has make good on his deal. Oh, get your minds out of the gutter...

Log;

Thanks to their conversation just before meeting up in the corridor of the first floor of building eight, the silence between the two of them as far as the Underworld had been verging on oppressive. The Commodore had paused briefly to knock on Sands' door and when no response was forthcoming, to slip a polite note in impeccably neat copperplate handwriting (pressed down on the paper particularly hard to make it legible by judicious use of the fingers) under it explaining where they were going and that he was quite welcome to join them if he so wished. Then by unspoken consent, they left the building and headed into the dusky evening of the city streets towards alcoholic oblivion.

Norrington hadn't actually been in this close proximity to the Pirate Captain since their near duel some time ago. Certainly, they'd communicated a fair bit using the strange future glowing boxes (which made things a lot easier), but avoided actually meeting face to face. It was dashed odd enough not being on the verge of shooting each other, and it might well be some time before he got used to actually talking to the man like he was a fellow human being and not some sort of vile embodiment of all things piratical.

And then, of course, there was the whole Truth Curse issue...

Well, a question should at least be safe.

"Where are we going?" Norrington asked.

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With a roll over her eyes, Ran tells the waitress to 'surprise her, extra large, please', then pleasantly warns her to refrain from trying to water the drinks down just because she's a girl. Done ordering, she turns her attention to the stage and tilts her head to the side, gazing at the young women dancing.

"Gentlemen, there are far prettier girls here. I'm sure neither of you would have trouble finding one to dance for you if you asked nicely"

She leans back in the chair, smiling warmly at the men.

"I refuse to ask, nicely or otherwise. Believe me, I'm quite happy for them to dance right where they are. Over there." Norrington replies, his embarassment further compounded by Ran's response. He's used to nice, demure, corsetted girls who flutter fans and talk about what they'll be doing when the next season comes. And of course, Miss Swann, who although she's a tad rash and ruthless, is, let's face it, no overly well endowed in the chestal area, and certainly not in such an obvious fashion.

Resigning himself to a fate worse than or equivalent to breasts, Norrington decides to take the coward's way out and drink himself into not caring any more. He addresses himself to the waitress, resisting the urge to order a bottle of the house Claret. "Bring on the rum, please, in generous amounts."

"I know you're happy with the girls in the distance, and that is why I want them over here. Our wager was that I would show you how I live and that you would see if it rates as well as your more ... reserved lifestyle."

Jack slides one of the two small glasses that come with his order over to Norrington. Inside is a tall mix of brandy, bourbon, gin, rum and lime. The pirate downs his own in two large swallows and smiles at Ran.
"Or perhaps Ran will dance for you, James? How about it, love? Is a simple 'please' really all it takes, eh? To be honest, I'm well aware how easily I could have a show from many of the girls in this city. Beautiful ones such as yourself. But when I'm paying for it, I know exactly what the girl is expecting in exchange. It's comforting."

Hoist by his own petard as usual, dash it all. He had said that. Sparrow's logic was impeccable, for once in his rambling life.

Best get fortified then. He takes hold of the drink Sparrow slid over and downs it in similar fashion, and then steels himself as if for battle.

"Right. Bring them on."

Ran laughs and slides her fingers over her chilled glass, leaving behind a discolored streak. She levels a wicked smile at both men and shrugs. "I'd have to have a bit more in my system, but I assure you, I can out dance any woman in the building."

The smiles twitches up a notch as her gaze turns to the taller man. "I'm sure I could be convinced, if that's what you really want."

"Finally...things are getting interesting. My vote, if anyone is interested -though I wager not most often- is that we have the lovely working girl over at the stage give a bit of a show and then, Ran love, you can show us what you can do. Norrington here may be the judge as I am surely too jaded and already biased in your favour, besides."

Jack grins widely at his brilliant new idea and takes the cap from his bottle of rum to get back to the important matter of assuring he remembers none of this in the morning.
"What say you, Commodore?"

The erstwhile Commodore looks at the stage, then looks at Ran (very carefully keeping his eyes on her face and off everywhere else) with a certain amount of admiration and worry, then at Jack, then back at the stage again. Back in the real world, he'd have been heading for the door in disgust by now, if he'd even come in at all, but this strange dream city has different rules for its people.

The drink is definitely starting to kick in now, and the kick in question is somewhere between a furious donkey, and a Chuck Norris roundhouse, and truth day has a terrible power.

"Fine. Bring the dancing girls over, for as Sparrow says, they're given proper recompense for flaunting themselves. But I won't have you degrade yourself, Lieutenant. You're a fine figure of a woman, seeming full of drive and passion, who I'd have been proud to have under my command, despite any question of gender, and it would be beneath you, however much I'm sure you'd have an amusing time doing it. No, I won't have you sully your beauty with such...GAH."

At this point, he realises what he's saying and claps his hands over his mouth in horror.

Each word of praise from the Commodore sends slim eyebrows climbing higher and higher. "Well, good sir, I'm so thrilled to hear someone here thinks so highly of me. If I remembered my captain back home, I'd like to think his opinion of me was as kind."

One quick gulp and the odd drink is gone, leaving Ran staring down at the glass. "That wasn't what I had in mind... too sweet." She motions to the waitress and orders another 'surprise' and shoo's her off before she leans back even more in her chair and smiles smugly at Captain Sparrow.

"The thing he doesn't seem to realize is that most women like to flaunt themselves in one way or another, especially women like me."

As Ran leans back, Jack lets his eyes wander. Why hide it, given conversation? Still...there are other things distracting him. Unpleasant memories and thoughts.
"Exactly the thing, love. I've yet to meet the beautiful woman who was not fully aware of the effects she had on men. It's a thing to take pride in, most certainly, and a gift quite often abused."
His lip curls a bit, but he takes another pull from the bottle and erases the tension from his face.

Somewhere through the alcoholic haze, some part of Norrington wished the floor would open up and swallow him. He was starting to see why Ran intimidated Sands so much. She had it, and she knew it.

"All right then." He said, after a little more steeling of himself. "If you insist, Lieutenant. Do as you like."

Ran accepts a new drink from the waitress with a murmured word of thanks and takes a sip before she turns her wide smile back to her companions.

"Maybe later, Commodore. After we've all had a few more. I wouldn't want you to be embarassed, even if I knew Captain Sparrow wouldn't be."

Hearing his doom postponed for a little longer, Norrington decides it's time to carefully divert the subject elsewhere before Jack unleashes dancing girls on him.

"Later, yes of course." He waves the hand not currently occupied in drinking. "Now, I've been meaning to ask you about that interesting sword for some time, Lieutenant. I've never seen a design like that before. Is it standard issue or a personal possession?"

A proud gleam shines in her eyes as she slides a loving palm over Haineko's saya. Nimble fingers slide the lacquered sheathe free of her belt and move to lay in on the table. "All shinigami are given unnamed blades, but when they rise in the ranks, they're given the chance to chose or be chosen by one of the named zanpaktous. She chose me."

After a quick glance around to make sure no one else was paying attention, she slides the blade free with a satisfying rasp. The metal is a soft, shining silver, ending in a wicked tip.

"She's a good one, but she's a little lazy at times... and she complains when I have a hangover. It gives her a headache too."

She pauses, realizing she was rambling...

"Would you fine gentlemen like to meet her?"

Oh look, they're getting drunk again, what a surprise. (Log, Incomplete)

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