tampered | Log: Complete

Current Mood: angry
Current Location: The Black Swann
Current Music: The Decemberists - "The Mariner's Revenge Song"

Log: Complete

When; Emotional reversal day.
Rating; likely R for language and violence.
Characters; Jack Sparrow (

13_year_captain) and Agent Sands (

blind_shot) and possibly more later
Summary; The unrelated twins are stuck together on Jack's ship when the curse strikes and they are left loathing each other. Things have been said that can not be taken back and no one has even made attempt. Words hardly seem enough now.
Log;

Jack's boots echo and boards creek as he stomps his way up to the deck of the Swann and into the Captain's quarters. How could he have let that man use his bed? (Moreover, how could he have shared sleeping space with that horrible and terrifying witch woman?)Sands was offensive to begin with, but now he's said things that have, in Jack's mind, cost the man hs life.

The pirate enters into his own quarters more quietly, having little sympathy at all for his double's disadvantage in not being able to see him. He moves quick, hoping to grab hold of Sands and hurl the man to the floor before the agent can lock onto him by sound. He should simply run Sands through from behind...should ...but there's that damned honest streak. Eyes or no, he'll have Sands facing him and knowing it before he'll kill the man.

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Seeing it on someone else, Jack finally understands just how infuriating his grin can be. He sneers at Sands' words and is raising the gun (with which he knows fuck all about taking the safety off) when he catches the ink to his eyes.

Jack stumbles backwards, trying and failing to pull the trigger on the gun, and wiping at his face with the back of his hand. "Bugger!..Hell.."
When his eyes are clear, he's a little over-worried with why the trigger won't fire on his freshly stolen weapon.
"You were going to shoot me with a bloody broken gun?" Maybe they do have a lot in common.

"Some great lot of good hiding is going to do you."
The pirate tosses the 'useless' gun to the floor and moves to haul Sands out from under his desk.

Sheldon listens real close for where that gun was dropped and the Slap Fight begins. Sands was in the Army. He was All He Could Be. They gave him even more hand to hand combat training when he entered the cia but somehow what they came away with was a gunslinger who fights like an unloved 10 year old girl with emotional problems.
The first punch to Jack's face hurts Sheldon's hand just as much as his enemy and then it's a series of unplanned and slightly off target hits.
At one point he does get a hold of the front of the pirate's shirt and pulls him forward in an awkward attempt to get him off balance. Out of pure fucking luck it causes the other man to smack his forehead on the desk.

Having little to no actual hand-to-hand combat skill, despite his own military based training, and having a natural aversion to being struck in the face, Jack is staggered a bit by the hit.

He raises his sword, but it falls clattering to the ground as he's struck again and then pulled in to knock his skull against the solid edge of his desk with a hollow thud.

"You fight like a girl, mate." He winces at the pain in his head, and takes his own sissy swing at Sands. It lands hard, but awkward, against Sands' cheekbone and the edge of an empty eye socket and leaves Jack wanting to shake the sore feeling from his fingers. It makes him stall before swinging again and takes a lot of the force out of the second strike. It's all slow and poorly centered as Jack's eyes refuse to focus properly since hitting his head.

"Yeah? I hear you feel just like a girl when getting fucked in the ass."
Sands pushes him away onto his back. Instead of doing the smart thing and placing his knee in a delicate spot then trying to reach for a weapon he throws himself off balance along with the pirate in an attempt to pin Jack down by the shoulders. It leaves his entire body open for attack and keeps him from being able to quickly get up and retreat if Jack gets the upper hand.
If his lookalike knew how to fight it would be over by now. As it is they both only seem apt at taking hits.

Jack is incredibly good at taking hits. He can take a great number of blows to the head before he blacks out, actually...which some have cited as 'explaining a lot', whatever that means.

When he's tossed back, his skull makes a loud cracking contact with the deck boards. There isn't enough time to wonder if he's bleeding as Jack's vision fades back from gray. Too quickly, Sands is on top of him and has him pinned.
"I'm sorry, Shel darling, but if tha's a come on, I'm going to have to decline."
He brings a knee up hard to catch Sands in the groin. No honor among pirates, really.
"You clearly did one hell of a job in disappointing your last girl. And I'm less than interested in your two spare holes."

With that knee to the nuts, Jack hopes to throw Sands off balance enough to trade positions, pinning the agent instead.

That knee changes the game completely. He couldn't say where it came from or why something so horrible would seek out his nuts but the next thing he knows he's on his back trying to cough his balls out of his throat where they have decided to reside.
"You'd fuck anything that wiggled right."

He coughs and hacks in Jack's face.
"Butt pirate."
His head turns to bite that tender skin on the inside of Jack's wrist holding him down.

It's a pity Sands can't see that smug grin as well. Jack really hopes he can hear it.
"Animal, vegetable or mineral... And yet, nothing will fuck you. Sad, isn't it?"
Jack rather likes the style and frequency with which Sands uses the word 'fuck'. It's a fun word. It feels good to say.

He's laughing when he's bitten and it turns into a scream. "You bloody miserable little bastard!" He shakes his hand out and smacks Sheldon hard across the face with it.
"I trained your mum out of using teeth, do I 'ave t'do the same for you now?"
Jack keeps on top of Sands, but he brings his wounded hand to his mouth to suck on, having far too much confidence in his position.

He can hear it. Though the words hurt enough that the wicked grin isn't needed. This is what he gets for having friends and saying personal shit around them. They bring it up during fights to the death.

So he bites him. The full on bitch slap receives a look of total shock even without eyes. Sands could not be more surprised. Getting an open hand slap always feels so much more degrading then a punch in the face. He lays there feeling like an abused whore for about three seconds. Then in keeping with the bitch fighting theme Sands reaches up and yanks a fist full of hair with the force to rip a chunk from Jack's scalp. It makes a terrible sound but Sands is already reaching for where he heard the gun as he pulls the pirate in the other direction.
"For that I'm killing you again as soon as you fucking materialize. Fall from sky. BAM! Straight to fucking Broadway."

Along with the awful sound of tearing hair comes along, growling scream of pain and anger. Jack nearly falls with the rough tug at his dreads and he brings a hand up to try and pull himself free.

With his other hand, the pirate throws a hard cross to Sands' jaw. With the pain bringing tears to his eyes and his head already pounding, Jack doesn't even notice Sands reaching for the gun.
"...I should have let you bleed to death when I found you!..."

The painful hit knocks him a few inches past his target. It takes him another moment to locate the gun again and then he has it. Kicking Jack the rest of the way off of him he crawls across the cabin until he's out of reach. Then with a spastic scuttle to his feet he sprints to the wall holding the gun on Jack from a few feet away.

"The last of many mistakes, I'm sure." Sands has a crooked smile on his face. Blood collects between his teeth from the last punch to the jaw and more trickles down the side of his neck from where he head butted that solid desk.
"I'm going to be the last thing you ever see."

It's a hard kick and it winds Jack as it knocks him back. There's a moment lost to blinking his vision back from a rough blur and gasping for air, and it's a moment he could have used.

By the time Jack rolls to his knees there's already a gun trained on him. It's so much easier not to fear death when you've already died. Jack grins back, gold and white and crimson, then draws his own pistol.

"Wish I could say the same, mate, but seems I've come a bit late for that honour."
Jack fires his single shot, struggling to keep his vision clear as he does. The shot is low and his hand wavers, but he's damn good with a gun, even when he's seeing double and swaying. He sees no lost honour in shooting first, either. If you don't have the will to shoot first, you get shot.

Sands fires so quickly after Jack that if anyone was listening they would have thought the guns to go off at the same time. Sheldon planed to get a few more words in and maybe a pun or two but fuck it.
As that terrible little ball hurts much worse then a modern bullet. Like getting stabbed with a butter knife instead of a real one. His own aim is perfect, blowing out Jack's left kneecap. Shot or not he still plans to rip the pirate's eyes out.

Doing a small hop and making cartoonish faces at the white hot pain in his thigh where the bullet was stopped, Sands keeps his gun trained on Jack in case the other man needed a matching set of knees.
"What the holey FUCK was I shot with?"

His free hand goes to the hole in his leg as he gives Jack a look that clearly says his twin was in the wrong and so so rude.
"Jesus! I'm going to have lead poisoning!"
Jabbing the gun in Sparrow's direction angrily to make his point he lectures on weaponry.
"Buy a real gun!!"

Sheldon's lecturing, though well advised, falls on deaf ears. Not that Jack doesn't want a real gun. Oh, but he does. He should even be getting one from Jan soon, if the vampire will still be so generous. No, the problem is that having his kneecap shattered to shit by Sands' bullet is incredibly distracting and rather prevents Jack from hearing anything but pain (and yes, after a certain level, pain can be experienced by all five senses...it tastes bitter).

Gritting his teeth against the agony and that nagging fear that he'll never walk properly again, Jack drags his destroyed knee across the floor for the few feet necessary to grab up his cutlass. He'll likely be shot again and he knows it, but he can't run, so he may as well fight.
"..Piss off... I hope the shot in your leg rots you.."

"Oh. Oh, that's just lovely." Sands shoots the floor three inches in front of Jack just to be a prick.
"I'm going to get a canon and blow holes in your damn ship, mate."
Sands isn't thinking about that sword at all.
A lot has happened since then okay?

He just keeps talking and talking- using the gun to gesture every now and then.
"... It's a balance thing, Jack. You may not be the strongest link here given your eccentric little handicaps but the eyes have got to go."
He steps forward and painfully. Putting all his weight on his good leg Sands grabs Jack by the chin pressing the gun to his right eye.

"Do you think you'll still have them when you come back or will I have to do this again and again? Because I do need a hobby."

Jack is not at all enthused about the prospect of losing that eye, nor the portions of brain and skull that will probably go with it. He keeps still in Sands' grip, gritting his teeth as he tightens his hold on his sword.

With the quickest motion he can, given his position, Jack thrusts the cutlass deep into his twin's abdomen. As the blade sinks in, he leans back best he can to move his head away from the muzzle of the gun.
"..Can't say..I approve of the choice of diversion..."

Well. That was a shock. The look on Sands face is pretty much that of Aljerez when he shot her. In the same place. There's a lesson about karma here he is completely missing.
The gun goes off but the bullet whizzes right by Jack's head doing nothing but singing some hair and introducing a lovely high pitched buzz that goes well with the ticking.
His arm hangs limp at his side as the other hand holds his stomach. Slowly he takes a step back still favoring that good leg.

Without a word and moving at the shocked speed of a lemur on pot Sands collects his lap top and staggers out the door leaving a trail of dark blood. Like an animal just mortally wounded in a dominance fight (and isn't that just the case) Sands goes off to die alone. Ultimately he'll end up on the roof of his own building where the curse will end and he'll laugh.
At his own death by sword and the fact he was killed by his echo. The reasons why and what he lived through to get here.

Sands spends what he thinks will be his last living hours on the roof laying on his back and soaking up the sun as a red pool spreads around him.

Once his sword is clear of the man, Jack just watches Sands flee. The blade falls from his hand once the door is shut. He doesn't have the energy to continue the fight and is ever grateful to Sands for backing down.

Jack wants to crawl to his bed if he's to die, but the effort is too much. He simply curls up on the floor, feeling cold and increasingly numb as the ticking grows louder again. He hopes someone will find him before he dies, but isn't really sure it would matter as he slips into blessed unconsciousness.

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Log: Complete

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