tampered | Log: Ongoing [Of Sand and Angels]

When; A rainy midday, August 4th
Rating; R for language
Characters; Jack Sparrow, Agent Sands, Uriel, Norrington, and Jan Valentine (thus far)
Summary; There are far too many people on Jack's beach, for one thing. For another, he has to "save" Sands from the rising tide while he's awaiting the arrival of the angel he won in auction.
Log;

If it wasn't so amusing, the task of rescuing a drugged and disoriented Sands from the beach and it's threatening tides would annoy the piss out of Jack. Mostly because he would rather not have the agent aboard his ship with his new "slave" arrives. Likely it won't go too poorly, though, and he'd rather not watch his twin's drowned corpse float by his ship in a few hours.

Jack is bothered by the Going Merry sharing his ocean, but at least it brought with it a proper dock (lord this is a strange place). He takes the rain spattered walk from ship to shore, letting boots echo on boards, then tracks across the sand to nudge his lookalike with the toe of a boot.
"Alright, up then if you're coming to see my new purchase."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sands' left arm is thrown out and he's still again. That was apparently as far as he's willing to move. After several seconds his brain tells him he's being poked at and the arm moves over to slap at the air the boot was occupying (or at least a few inches off).
He gives a moan and clears his throat before turning to his side and slowly getting to his hands and knees.
Then comes the hard part. With some tipping and wild grabbing at Jack's clothes the agent pulls himself up with a satisfied smile.

"Well. Lets go."

"Oh, off now are we?" Norrington says, strolling across the sand, hands in his pockets and a certain amount of sarcasm in his tone. "Ever so kind of you to wait. Your cat's locked in the privy, Sands, though I'll not be surprised if she's escaped by the time I return, the devious creature."

He glances up at the Black Swan. Oh God, he's going to have to board again, isn't he? He bites his lip and tries not to think about anything that has happened there previously.

"Yes." Norrington has not heard sarcasm like Sands can do sarcasm. Even if he is English.
"I'm boarding the ship where I could hide. You would never think to look for me there. Evil cackle."

"I didn't teach her to do that. This is why the military breaks your spirit before training. Damn me for rushing things."

Being essentially "climbed" such as Sands chose for his method of righting himself, is something Jack usually reserves for attractive young girls and not drugged and blind doppelgangers. And Oh goood more company.. He pushes Sands off a bit and puts an arm around for guiding as Norrington approaches.

"Damn! And we very nearly made good our escape!"
He turns to sands and lowers his voice.
"Did you make a point of inviting many here?"

Sands does not want to be pushed aside. Jack is the only sturdy thing in reaching distance and he clings a little as he stumbles back just enough to not give the impression he was much more excited to have Jack there then he really was.
The arm around him keeps him from falling backward. His hand moves up to rub his eyes and falls back. This is becoming a habit of his he doesn't much like.

"I was sick. That's why I'm a bit out of it. I'll be better when the lightheadness is gone. Light headed ness. I think I spewed in the Merry Sheet Head's longboat..."
Sands attempts to point in the general direction he had been in but gives up.
Giggling a little at Jack's question he answers with glee.
"I was lonely and I thought- I just bet Ole Jack needs some company as well. You know what they say about misery."

He calls to James. "Be a dear and get my lap top, Commodore."
Oh, man was that fun to say!

All night spent cleaning and doing chores in Sands apartment. All night spent tending to Sands - small doses of laudanum along with working on his neck and back (Jan had learned from a number of spa workers he slept with over the years quite a useful bit of massage therapy) that had tensed-up from the migraines and added to the blindman's pain.

And what did the master do when his vampire went home to tend to his own apartment and unicorn roommates??!!

Upset as he was, Jan dutifully came. Dressed all in black, sporting a trench coat and umbrella to keep from getting soaked, the usually expressive vampire looked like a poker-faced mourner headed to a family funeral.

Without a word to anyone, Jan took his place beside Sands but made no effort to help keep the man upright - he was still way too angry at Sands for shooting-up after he left.

Sands is starting to have a real problem. He refuses to wait until Jan is available to measure out the morphine and he can't see how much he's shooting- just going by feel. With a drug like that it's really not the thing to do.
His head cocks to the side listening for someone when Jan arrives. But the vampire is quiet. If he knew about the silent treatment he was getting there would be a pouting to end all poutings.

He shot up first thing in the morning and didn't think of eating first. He shot too much. It made him sick so he's more disoriented then he should be by now.
If asked- Sands would claim he's acting this way because his head hurts. Because he threw up. Because he just forgot to eat. Because he just felt like it. And there would be a fuck you in there as well.
Sands is acting like a junkie and in his more lucid moments he knows it.

"Your what?" Norrington raises an eyebrow. "Oh, your journal writing box, I see." He turns to look around the beach for the slim black machine, and eventually finds it and picks it up, just as Jan appears. As he straightens up, he taps a quick salute in greeting to the vampire.

As he turns back to rejoin the others, a black feather falls gently past his face. He frowns and looks up...

Even if Sands doesn't think to pout at this time, Jack does. And he does it well. There are now three men on his beach, all likely heading back to his ship with him, and he'd rather none of them be present for... for...

Oh good..feathers...

Log: Ongoing [Of Sand and Angels]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject