tampered | Log: Ongoing [Of Sand and Angels]

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Current Location: Building 8, room 13

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."

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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...

High above the beach, Uriel materialises from thin air in a flurry of black feathers, having patiently found his way to building eight, and then equally patiently slid past the strange bends of city physics that allow there to be an almost infinite-length beach packed inside an apartment block.

He drifts gently to the sandy shore, black robes and black locks swirling around his full magnificent frame, radiant with the light of a Creation of God, and lands facing Jack and the other men.

"Hail, Sons of Adam." He says, raising a hand in greeting. "I am Uriel, the Flame of God, and Punisher of Sins. I come at the bidding of Rosiel, Most Beloved of El, to serve the one named Jack Sparrow."

He's be more awestruck if he could see the grand entrance. As it is he just gets confused when suddenly everyone is very quiet in that strange way that comes before shit hits the fan. Sands' asshole is very sensitive to changes in mood.

El?
Sands makes a noise in his throat that is clearly the sudden closing upon laughter.
"Oh, God. He's haunting me."
Sands steps back and pulls Jack along with him using the man as a walking shield. That 'punisher of sins' nonsense has got him twitchy. That morphine in his system is background noise now. Something slowing him down but not knocking him out.

The pirate tries to ignore the man tugging him back across the beach. He squeezes Sands' middle in a way that's somehow meant to be reassuring and whispers "Who's haunting you? Remain calm. It's only my angel..apparently."

Jack manages a smug grin up at Uriel. "Punisher of Sins is it? Funny.. " He laughs inwardly at the irony. "I would be the new master in question Captain Jack Sparrow. This is my regrettably insane twin, Sands, and the other two gentlemen are Jan -who's terribly dark skinned for a dead man- and former Commodore, James Norrington. "
Well, things should fall apart nicely from here.

The angel's appearance cause Jan's eyes to go big a saucers. He knew Uriel was tall and dark but seeing him in person....wow!!

Sands antics snapped him out of angel awe. Switching the umbrella to his other hand Jan reached over and detached Sands from the pirate.

Shit Bro I'm turnin into you. Jan thought with a smile of his late older brother Luke, as he pulled Sands close to comfort him.

Uriel looks at the man who spoke, the man without eyes. He had read others in the city talking of this man. The being of this man was full of anger, and now some amount of fear. And something else. He turned his head to glare at Jan.

"Son of Lilith, thou art an ill-doer. I hoped you would use my gift more wisely, to lift pain and lessen suffering. This man is full of poison." He said, and stepped forward to rest a hand on Sand's forehead. "He must be cleansed."

Uriel felt for the morphia flowing in Sand's blood, locked into his endorphine receptors, numbing his brain and body and blocking off responses in his nerves. He reached into the pattern with his power and drew out the poisons molecule by molecule. Then, he set the various energetic and physical balances of Sand's body, badly screwed by various drugs, wounds and incidents, as right as he possibly could before stepping away from the man, and shaking morphine residue from his hands onto the sand beneath his feet.

"It is done." He said. "Now, show me the one named Sparrow, that he might command me."

[[ooc: below post first, then this one]]

Uriel bowed to his new master. "I am yours to command, Captain Jack Sparrow, subject to what has been said earlier."

Sands is a few steps away from panic but holding his shit together in his Sands way. This being finding a human shield and then aiming. But he couldn't wrestle the gun out of it's holster Jack is calming him down.
And before he can answer the pirate about El and how funny this whole thing is Jan has him.

Perhaps Sands is being trained by the vampire without realizing it. For whatever the reason all efforts to shoot something are abandoned and he sinks into Jan without resistance.
The agent has always used bigger stronger men to fight for him and always considered them weapons enough. Sneaking off when said larger man has been torn to pieces. But Jan is horribly hard to hurt and impossible to kill being dead.

He leans into the man with a smug look on his face. Nothing can touch him.

[[ooc: Sorry, I'm going to have to sleep. DAMN DAMN DAMN. I'll carry on tomorrow.]]

Sands' smug expression falls apart when the angel actually touches him. That's not right.
"Hey.."

Those wonderful drugs being sucked out through his skin and the very very sudden sobering up is the weirdest feeling he's had since getting his eyes mashed up with a drill.
And considerably less painful.
Though he did almost piss himself at Uriel's words. This man is full of poison. He must be cleansed."
A paranoid person could take that a lot of ways.
"Wait!"

His hands grab at the angel's wrist as the drugs are taken out. It happens too fast for him to really try and stop it even if he could.
When it's over he stands there looking dumbfounded.
"That was... interesting."

Jan bristled as shock quickly turned to anger at the false accusation, "Wait a fuckin minute here, this asshole shot himself up!! I've been tryin to give him only enough for the pain the sockets are causing him!!"

Three days of almost no sleep, busting his ass for the blindman's sake for little if any thanks, finding-out Sands along with a few others went partying without bothering to even invite him, and now getting blamed for something not his fault by a flying hippie of all things, it all took a toll on the vampire.

He closed his umbrella and walked-up to Uriel.

"Fuckin self-rightous asshole!!" Jan hissed, swinging the umbrella and soundly smacking the angel upside the head with it.

And that is Jack's cue to take a step back. No good can come of clubbing a divine being in the head. He's almost sure of this fact. Best to disassociate himself from the vampire a little. He also makes a mental note not to smoke any of the opium Jan cultivated for him in Uriel's presence. It would just go to waste.

"Now now, gentlemen, let us all be reasonable here, hmm? And no hitting! Shall we take this little party on board rather than standing about out here?"
Jack hooks his thumbs towards the ship and begins, very slowly, to head back towards the dock.

Uriel takes an umbrella to the chin with astonishing grace. Head snaps up, head snaps down. Small trickle of blood runs down his neck and stops about half way down (sharp things umbrellas). After a second or two's pause and bewildered staring off into the distance, he looks at Jan, and gathers from the righteous fury in his aura that he's telling the truth.

"I am sorry, Jan. You have done as I wished you to then, and used it for pain." This was pretty much the angelic equivalent of "I deserved that."
He bowed, and with a nod to Norrington and Sands turned back to Jack and followed him to the dock.

[[ooc: God, zimon, that was the funniest image I've seen in my head all morning. Umbrella upside the angel head! You rock.]]

Norrington watched the various altercations with some amusement. He'd met the angel before, when he stumbled into the Xanadu gardens wounded, and knew him for an odd, if decent cove, and was therefore marginally bothered when Jan gave him the Mary Poppins treatment.

As they walked to the docks, he handed him a slightly grubby handkerchief. Uriel looked at him confusedly and took the square of silk.

"What is this?" He said, holding it out.

Norrington rolled his eyes. "Oh give it here, you useless fellow." He said, taking it back and wiping at the angel's injured chin, an action that required him to reach upwards slightly, despite being a good six foot one and a half. Uriel flinched back a little, afraid someone was going to hit him again. "Calm down, man." Norrington said, stuffing a handkerchief full of curiously dark angel blood back in his weskit pocket.

"Thank you for your aid." The Angel said dusting dried opiates off his hands. "I have seen you before. Your heart was full of anger then, that is lessened now. That is good."

Norrington shrugged. "I've been acting the fool at little less lately. Although not last night of course. Living and letting live, as it were." The angel gave him a little bow of approval and then turned his attention back to his new master.

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Log: Ongoing [Of Sand and Angels]

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