http://10thdiv_haineko.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
10thdiv-haineko.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2006-08-10 04:18 pm
10thdiv-haineko.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-08-10 04:18 pm
Log: Complete
When; August 10th (Lack of self control day)
Rating; PG for snogging?
Characters;Rangiku![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
10thdiv_haineko and James Norrington heart0foak
Summary; Rangiku makes a rooftop call on Norrington. Things are said.
The erstwhile Commodore Norrington leaned as nonchalantly as one possibly could with a steadily oozing wound clear from the right shoulderblade to the left hip. He'd managed to get most of the salt (God, that had stung unbelievably, but at least it should have kept infection out...) out of the slash Jones had put across him whilst he was escaping the Dutchman, and had shredded some sheets to make bandages to stop the profuse bleeding, which he was sporting underneath his shirt and midshipman's blue jacket. The pain in his back had lessened to a dull ache now, which was good as he was starting to sober up, and the painkilling effects of copious amounts of rum were wearing off.
Today had been fairly interesting so far, although he was hoping the third sparrow was some kind of hallucination. God, he hoped he didn't have any multidimensional doubles. That would be too disturbing for words. This newest curse was terribly liberating. He'd spent most of the morning drinking laughing at the things everyone else in the city was saying (particularly at Jones apparently being molested by a catboy), then a few hours watching from his window as two huge clouds of bats flew across the horizon. Shortly after that, he'd gone down the hallway, sneaked into Sands' flat, and carefully rearranged most of the furniture. Something at the back of his mind kept insisting he shouldn't have done that, but he pointedly informed it that it wasn't in charge any more and it had better shut the hell up now, and besides, the man had been utterly insufferable yesterday and quite obviously deserved it.
He shifted position to something a little more comfortable, and waited, hoping what happened now would be equally interesting...
Twenty minutes, he’d said. That gave Rangiku plenty of time to laze about and enjoy all the idiocy she was seeing from her rooftop perch. Really now, some days in the City afforded her all sorts of entertainment as long as it didn’t involve her in a bad way. She was so lost in her observation that she’d almost missed the time she was supposed to meet Norrington. With a muttered curse, she slipped out onto the upper level of the roof and set out in a quick, light run.
The roofs slipped under her feet quickly, her shadow below a blur as she moved so quickly it seemed as if she was flying along. At this height, the city was laid out very easily to navigate, so it wasn’t a hard thing to make her way to the rooftop where he said he’d be waiting. With little care, she dropped lightly to the rooftop several feet from him, robes silently falling to drape along her legs as they settled.
With a slight smile, she tilted her head and peered at him. “Should I be polite and say it’s good to see you, or should I be honest and say you look terrible?”
"I hear it's the best policy." Norrington replied, raising an eyebrow and grinning a little. He stood up straight, and winced as he pulled at the scab. "Besides, I do look terrible. Dashingly terrible, I hope." He said, feeling his unshaven chin. He'd have to do something about that, but right now he really couldn't be bothered.
“Dashingly terrible? Is there such a thing?” Her eyes hadn’t missed the wince, but she figured he was in a good deal of pain, what with the way he held himself. She’d seen enough field injuries to know when someone’s really hurting or just putting on a show for someone else’s benefit. She had a feeling he was trying to be all manly and such.
“So how bad is it,” she asked, head nodding a little towards him before she moved closer.
Despite the pain, Norrington decided it was time to take the opportunity to admire the shinigami a little more closely, considering he'd barely been able to look at her without suffering a raging blush of embarrassment when they'd gone out for the evening. The way her black hakama and kimono hugged her impressive figure, the pink scarf delicately emphasizing the lines and curves. Her long blonde locks. Ah, all the things that Sands was missing, poor eyeless man. "....Fairly bad..." He said. "Still, can't complain. I was lucky. Jones might have caught me. Then God knows what he would have done. I might have been begging for death by the end of it. And it was worth it, I came out with some very useful reconnaisance." He tried to stand up straighter to make it less obvious, but only succeeded in making himself gasp slightly.
"Don't..suppose I could prevail upon you to do something about it, could I?" He asked. "You seem to have fixed Sands up quite nicely by the looks of it..."
The mention of the other man soured her mood a little, but she smiled it off and gently laid a hand on Norrington’s shoulder. “I’m not the healer others are. What I do is basic first aid and it doesn’t work as well on the living…” It might’ve been a good thing she was so intent on his injuries that she didn’t notice the once over he’d given her.
“If I’m going to be able to do anything, though, I need you comfortable and I need contact with the wound.” Any other time, her voice would’ve been more business-like, but the tone held mild teasing and a touch of the flirt she’d always been. “So strip, good sir.”
On another day that comment would have made Norrington either glare angrily at her or blush and stammer, and cringe away from the hand on his shoulder. Today, he just shrugged once she removed it, and began to painfully unbutton his brocaded jacket. He shed first that, then a disgustingly purple shirt, slightly bloodstained, to reveal the hasty patch-job he'd done on the wound. Stripping the bandages off to reveal the bloody mess beneath was rather more painful, and he had to grit his teeth to get it done without crying out.
Once his upper body was bare, he looked up to face her with a wry smile. "There you are. What next?"
She didn’t answer, merely shaking her head a little as she drew careful fingers down over the sliced flesh. “Pretty deep, but I’ve had worse…” Her voice trailed off as she slowly called her power to her hand. She’d have to be a bit more gradual with him that she’d usually be. Living tissue didn’t react the same as spirit tissue to a shinigami’s power, so she took it easy. Narrowing her eyes, she concentrated on mending one layer at a time, then working her way up. The wound was remarkably clean already, but she made sure to burn away anything that could cause infection as she knitted the flesh back together.
It took several minutes of intense work, but when she pulled back, she knew he was well mended and wouldn’t suffer many ill effects from the injury in the future.
“Same thing I told Sands… you might scar, but there’s no way around that even for me. I’m not really a healer, so I’m not as good as they would be for this.”
The feeling of power flowing into his back, binding the muscles back together was deep and disturbing, intensified by the touch of Ran's fingers across his skin, and the proximity of her. Norrington watched her face, brows knitted in concentration, with interest. He had no experience with this sort of thing at all, but it was deeply intriguing. He felt the pain lessen to a mild ache, and then go entirely. Once she moved her hands away, he flexed his shoulders carefully and found himself fully capable of moving again. "Believe me, I'm very grateful indeed, and lucky to get away with a scar, so I shouldn't worry if I were you. Admirable work. Now, if I may be permitted to thank you properly?" And, before she had time to protest, he put a hand to her cheek, and kissed her carefully on the lips.
She wasn’t after gratitude, and she certainly didn’t expect this from him, but it wasn’t something that was unwelcome. Just a surprise. Moving just as carefully, her hand moved from his shoulder to curl around the back of his neck. The span of a breath later, she pulled a tiny bit back but didn’t move away, slim fingers twitching on the back of his neck. “This isn’t normally how people say ‘thank you’…” Her lips twist up into a wicked smile.
“Is that what you wanted, Commodore?”
"Among other things." He replied. "And I think "James" is rather more appropriate now you've seen me half-naked, yes?" He paused. "Ran.." The name tasted strange and foreign and ethereal, like her mouth. "I may be under a curse, but I'm still myself, you understand? And I must know something. You probably won't like this, but that obviously isn't going to stop me: Are you in love with Sands?" He pressed a finger to her lips to stop her replying just yet. "I must ask, while I'm in this state, because I shouldn't be able to otherwise. If you are, then I'll do all I can to help the two of you. I believe you've both been severely emotionally damaged in the past, and the way you behave around each other... I wonder if you could heal each other. I've been rejected once already, and I won't go any further unless I know I shan't be interfering where I'm not wanted. I'm not Sparrow to treat women as if they were playmates. I don't know much about women, but I've had my fair share of Lieutenants, and you seem a particularly excellent one, so if your feelings for Sands aren't...." He trailed off. " Damn and blast. I haven't the words for this..." He took his fingers from her lips and looked her in the eyes, searching for some kind of understanding.
The smile softened under his finger as she listened to his words, but she didn’t interrupt like she normally would. When the digit moved, she licked at her lips absently, then cleared her throat quietly. “Sands… is complicated. He reminds me of someone I used to love a great deal in Seireitei. I’m not exactly sure of my motivations with him, but you need to remember, I’m here with you, not him, and I didn’t exactly stop you now, did I?”
She slides her hand down the back of his neck and steps away, still smiling. ”I think we need to talk about this more when neither one of us are dealing with the City’s sense of humor. That being said, I’m going to go. I don’t want something to happen that would leave you uncomfortable.” She paced to the edge of the roof and settled one foot on the edge, then glanced back over her shoulder at him. “Have a pleasant evening, James.”
With that, she dropped off the side of the roof and was skyborne again.
Rating; PG for snogging?
Characters;Rangiku
10thdiv_haineko and James Norrington heart0foak Summary; Rangiku makes a rooftop call on Norrington. Things are said.
The erstwhile Commodore Norrington leaned as nonchalantly as one possibly could with a steadily oozing wound clear from the right shoulderblade to the left hip. He'd managed to get most of the salt (God, that had stung unbelievably, but at least it should have kept infection out...) out of the slash Jones had put across him whilst he was escaping the Dutchman, and had shredded some sheets to make bandages to stop the profuse bleeding, which he was sporting underneath his shirt and midshipman's blue jacket. The pain in his back had lessened to a dull ache now, which was good as he was starting to sober up, and the painkilling effects of copious amounts of rum were wearing off.
Today had been fairly interesting so far, although he was hoping the third sparrow was some kind of hallucination. God, he hoped he didn't have any multidimensional doubles. That would be too disturbing for words. This newest curse was terribly liberating. He'd spent most of the morning drinking laughing at the things everyone else in the city was saying (particularly at Jones apparently being molested by a catboy), then a few hours watching from his window as two huge clouds of bats flew across the horizon. Shortly after that, he'd gone down the hallway, sneaked into Sands' flat, and carefully rearranged most of the furniture. Something at the back of his mind kept insisting he shouldn't have done that, but he pointedly informed it that it wasn't in charge any more and it had better shut the hell up now, and besides, the man had been utterly insufferable yesterday and quite obviously deserved it.
He shifted position to something a little more comfortable, and waited, hoping what happened now would be equally interesting...
Twenty minutes, he’d said. That gave Rangiku plenty of time to laze about and enjoy all the idiocy she was seeing from her rooftop perch. Really now, some days in the City afforded her all sorts of entertainment as long as it didn’t involve her in a bad way. She was so lost in her observation that she’d almost missed the time she was supposed to meet Norrington. With a muttered curse, she slipped out onto the upper level of the roof and set out in a quick, light run.
The roofs slipped under her feet quickly, her shadow below a blur as she moved so quickly it seemed as if she was flying along. At this height, the city was laid out very easily to navigate, so it wasn’t a hard thing to make her way to the rooftop where he said he’d be waiting. With little care, she dropped lightly to the rooftop several feet from him, robes silently falling to drape along her legs as they settled.
With a slight smile, she tilted her head and peered at him. “Should I be polite and say it’s good to see you, or should I be honest and say you look terrible?”
"I hear it's the best policy." Norrington replied, raising an eyebrow and grinning a little. He stood up straight, and winced as he pulled at the scab. "Besides, I do look terrible. Dashingly terrible, I hope." He said, feeling his unshaven chin. He'd have to do something about that, but right now he really couldn't be bothered.
“Dashingly terrible? Is there such a thing?” Her eyes hadn’t missed the wince, but she figured he was in a good deal of pain, what with the way he held himself. She’d seen enough field injuries to know when someone’s really hurting or just putting on a show for someone else’s benefit. She had a feeling he was trying to be all manly and such.
“So how bad is it,” she asked, head nodding a little towards him before she moved closer.
Despite the pain, Norrington decided it was time to take the opportunity to admire the shinigami a little more closely, considering he'd barely been able to look at her without suffering a raging blush of embarrassment when they'd gone out for the evening. The way her black hakama and kimono hugged her impressive figure, the pink scarf delicately emphasizing the lines and curves. Her long blonde locks. Ah, all the things that Sands was missing, poor eyeless man. "....Fairly bad..." He said. "Still, can't complain. I was lucky. Jones might have caught me. Then God knows what he would have done. I might have been begging for death by the end of it. And it was worth it, I came out with some very useful reconnaisance." He tried to stand up straighter to make it less obvious, but only succeeded in making himself gasp slightly.
"Don't..suppose I could prevail upon you to do something about it, could I?" He asked. "You seem to have fixed Sands up quite nicely by the looks of it..."
The mention of the other man soured her mood a little, but she smiled it off and gently laid a hand on Norrington’s shoulder. “I’m not the healer others are. What I do is basic first aid and it doesn’t work as well on the living…” It might’ve been a good thing she was so intent on his injuries that she didn’t notice the once over he’d given her.
“If I’m going to be able to do anything, though, I need you comfortable and I need contact with the wound.” Any other time, her voice would’ve been more business-like, but the tone held mild teasing and a touch of the flirt she’d always been. “So strip, good sir.”
On another day that comment would have made Norrington either glare angrily at her or blush and stammer, and cringe away from the hand on his shoulder. Today, he just shrugged once she removed it, and began to painfully unbutton his brocaded jacket. He shed first that, then a disgustingly purple shirt, slightly bloodstained, to reveal the hasty patch-job he'd done on the wound. Stripping the bandages off to reveal the bloody mess beneath was rather more painful, and he had to grit his teeth to get it done without crying out.
Once his upper body was bare, he looked up to face her with a wry smile. "There you are. What next?"
She didn’t answer, merely shaking her head a little as she drew careful fingers down over the sliced flesh. “Pretty deep, but I’ve had worse…” Her voice trailed off as she slowly called her power to her hand. She’d have to be a bit more gradual with him that she’d usually be. Living tissue didn’t react the same as spirit tissue to a shinigami’s power, so she took it easy. Narrowing her eyes, she concentrated on mending one layer at a time, then working her way up. The wound was remarkably clean already, but she made sure to burn away anything that could cause infection as she knitted the flesh back together.
It took several minutes of intense work, but when she pulled back, she knew he was well mended and wouldn’t suffer many ill effects from the injury in the future.
“Same thing I told Sands… you might scar, but there’s no way around that even for me. I’m not really a healer, so I’m not as good as they would be for this.”
The feeling of power flowing into his back, binding the muscles back together was deep and disturbing, intensified by the touch of Ran's fingers across his skin, and the proximity of her. Norrington watched her face, brows knitted in concentration, with interest. He had no experience with this sort of thing at all, but it was deeply intriguing. He felt the pain lessen to a mild ache, and then go entirely. Once she moved her hands away, he flexed his shoulders carefully and found himself fully capable of moving again. "Believe me, I'm very grateful indeed, and lucky to get away with a scar, so I shouldn't worry if I were you. Admirable work. Now, if I may be permitted to thank you properly?" And, before she had time to protest, he put a hand to her cheek, and kissed her carefully on the lips.
She wasn’t after gratitude, and she certainly didn’t expect this from him, but it wasn’t something that was unwelcome. Just a surprise. Moving just as carefully, her hand moved from his shoulder to curl around the back of his neck. The span of a breath later, she pulled a tiny bit back but didn’t move away, slim fingers twitching on the back of his neck. “This isn’t normally how people say ‘thank you’…” Her lips twist up into a wicked smile.
“Is that what you wanted, Commodore?”
"Among other things." He replied. "And I think "James" is rather more appropriate now you've seen me half-naked, yes?" He paused. "Ran.." The name tasted strange and foreign and ethereal, like her mouth. "I may be under a curse, but I'm still myself, you understand? And I must know something. You probably won't like this, but that obviously isn't going to stop me: Are you in love with Sands?" He pressed a finger to her lips to stop her replying just yet. "I must ask, while I'm in this state, because I shouldn't be able to otherwise. If you are, then I'll do all I can to help the two of you. I believe you've both been severely emotionally damaged in the past, and the way you behave around each other... I wonder if you could heal each other. I've been rejected once already, and I won't go any further unless I know I shan't be interfering where I'm not wanted. I'm not Sparrow to treat women as if they were playmates. I don't know much about women, but I've had my fair share of Lieutenants, and you seem a particularly excellent one, so if your feelings for Sands aren't...." He trailed off. " Damn and blast. I haven't the words for this..." He took his fingers from her lips and looked her in the eyes, searching for some kind of understanding.
The smile softened under his finger as she listened to his words, but she didn’t interrupt like she normally would. When the digit moved, she licked at her lips absently, then cleared her throat quietly. “Sands… is complicated. He reminds me of someone I used to love a great deal in Seireitei. I’m not exactly sure of my motivations with him, but you need to remember, I’m here with you, not him, and I didn’t exactly stop you now, did I?”
She slides her hand down the back of his neck and steps away, still smiling. ”I think we need to talk about this more when neither one of us are dealing with the City’s sense of humor. That being said, I’m going to go. I don’t want something to happen that would leave you uncomfortable.” She paced to the edge of the roof and settled one foot on the edge, then glanced back over her shoulder at him. “Have a pleasant evening, James.”
With that, she dropped off the side of the roof and was skyborne again.