tampered | Log: Ongoing

Current Location: Building 8, room 14

Log: Ongoing

When; Once Jack's hangover from yesterday eases off enough to let him leave the ship.
Rating; PG13? Who knows? There will be swearing and shooting.
Characters; Jack Sparrow (

13_year_captain) and Sands

blind_shot)
Summary; Jack needs to get a glock from Sands and learn how to fire the damn thing.
Log;

Jack makes his way to Sheldon's apartment; cursing absinthe, opium and a litany of deities as he goes. If he's going to speak with Jones alone, he'd like to be as well armed as possible. Jan said one of the guns he gave to Sands was intended for Jack, and so the pirate intends to collect it. However, he'll also need to learn to shoot the damned thing. Though the shape is similar, the weight and operation of handguns has changed considerably since Jack's time. He very much likes the speed of the newer models and the way you needn't reload after every shot.

He knocks loudly at Sands' door and winces as the sound reverberates in his head.

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Sands takes his sweet ass time getting to said door. By time he does he's in full gunslinger gear. Both the glocks are in the holsters at his hips, he's all in black (except a belt buckle sporting the pot leaf). Oh yeah. Sands is feeling bad ass (http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c290/omnig33k/icons/mex1.jpg).
Leaning against the door frame he raises his eyebrows at the space he assumes Jack to be in.
"Yes?"

He looks Sands over with a vague sneer and gives a little laugh under his breath (which is in top form after many rounds of being sick over the rails of his ship).
"Dressed in the devil's own long underwear."

Jack staggers past Sands to find a place to drop down and sit. If the couch were any further, he would have taken the floor.
"We'd best to be quick about this... I think I'm dying."

Sands looks a little confused as to why Jack is entering his apartment- siting down- and then telling him to get a move on.
"Are you going to aim from my living room? Also I hate to break the news to you so bluntly but you're an animated corpse and very possibly not even real."

Maybe Jack is nervous or something? After an awkward moment standing at the door waiting for him to get over this huge battle coming he flops down beside the pirate.
"I would offer to be a sniper but I can't see and you wouldn't know what one is anyway."

Partly, Jack is nervous -though he'd never admit it-, partly he's just sick and tired, and partly he needs to talk and doesn't want to hear gunfire yet.
"I am real. I've little question over that. As for how dead I may be...Ran's seen fit to bring that into question. Hope is lovely, but I was enjoying being sure of things."

Jack is grabby, and thus reaches for a holster before even asking.
"Now let me see the gun. I want to know what I'm doing before we go out and the sound shatters my skull. ... What's a sniper?"

"If I ask you a question try to push down the urge to get me back for Tia or just break my balls. Also don't tell Rangiku.
How far did you get with my pretend girlfriend?"
This is infinitely more important then jack's battle to the death.

Sands felt movement near his person and slaps the hand.
"Hey. No touchy. This is mine." Making wide circles with his hands to encompasses all within the apartment. "Miiinne. You don't get a gun until we are away from things I don't want shot."

"A sniper is a gun that can hit a target from miles away. A telescope is used in order to aim it."

He doesn't get angry or take out any residual jealousy. If they're being straight with each other -and this seems like a serious concern for Sands- then Jack will attempt to meet that challenge.
"You're really worried over just what I've got up to with her?" He chuckles again, shaking his head. He thinks the jealousy is stupid. He's also been calling kettles black for years.
"You can rest easy, I think. We've teased, true, and there's not much of her I've not seen... but I've never had your girl to bed, mate. ... At least I'm fairly sure I haven't..last night's a bit blurry, but you can hardly hold any of that against us."

He pouts and snorts hot air out like a tiny, miffed bull.
"And I wasn't going to shoot your things. I don't think I'm half the idiot you take me for."

...

"I want one of those guns. Sniper? Yes. I want one."

It's not that Sands is jealous. Not of Jack sleeping with Ran anyway. His jealousy stems from the worry that Ran might one night get drunk enough to fool around. He would worry she was picturing him with eyes. In other words Jack. That's a small part of it. The bigger part is the same reason he's uncomfortable with the fact Jack had sex with Norrington. That's a copy of his own body more or less. Doing things. It's complicated and wrong.
Sands just wants to make sure she hasn't had any of his doubles on basic principal.
"Good enough. Now back to this epic battle you're in..."

"No, Jack. I believe you're the full idiot I take you for. Where's your own gun? I thought you said you were getting a glock."
Sands does not want to give up the one that was meant for Jack. Oh no.

"I'll pull one from my ass in just a sec. Wait for the winged monkey to come out first."
Sands grabs his cane and heads for the door- standing by it and tapping his foot for the pirate to come.
"Talk to Walter. It's easier to shoot then the glock because it's on a tripod. Once I show you this you can figure out the other in less time it takes you to apply makeup."
He's been asking around. Laughed very very hard at the descriptions given by Norrington.

What jealousy Jack has is more a worry that one of his doubles may be a better him than he is. It seems highly doubtful, but it's there..itching at the back of his mind. Thus far, he feels Sands may be just as good...this aloe is worrying. It's only the eyes that sets him at ease.

"I was going to get one from Jan.. Still might. He said he gave you one for me, though, and I thought I'd just use that for now, eh?" He grins because he knows full well Sands has no intention of giving up the extra firearm.

"Right. I'll ask Walter. You know, you wouldn't think vampires would need so many sodding weapons. Ah well."

With just a little groaning and complaining, Jack pries himself from the couch and shambles to the door. He stops, bringing his face all too close to Sands. "I don't wear makeup." and he pokes the man's chest to confirm this before moving out into the hall.

It's very very important to Sands who is better. He thought he was till Jack kicked his ass. Now he's still trying to get information on any other thems from Tia so he can find the best one and kill them. If it Jack then he's in trouble.

"Jan didn't give me shit for you, man. But I'll let you use mine for today. You can't- however- take it with you as I'm not sure if you'll be coming back. What does Jones plan to do with you if not kill you all over?"

"If I was a vamp I'd just bite the fuck out of people. Not sure what their deal is."

Sands keeps his face forward even though his neck goes tight with the need to turn. But that's letting Jack win. Still- his personal space is being invaded.
"Not what James said."
Sands walks ahead of Jack just so he's not following the asshole.
"Called you a 'great poofter'. Not sure what that means. Some english thing I guess."

Jack feels fairly sure he's the best. At least he's accustomed to being in trouble. Particularly with those he trusts.

"Jan gave you two guns in place of one, then? Good of him. Suppose I will have to get after the man for lying to me, though." He smirks, accepting that Sands is keeping that gun. It saves Jack ever owing Sands anything, the way the pirate figures it. "What Jones plans to do, I imagine, is hold me to a contract I...may have signed into some time ago. I would become an undying member of his crew and serve aboard his ship for the next hundred years, becoming as more ship and sea than man. ... Somehow the offer lacks much appeal."
He can almost keep the bitterness and fear from his voice. Almost.

He stops in his tracks behind his twin for a moment, looking sorely offended but even more surprised. "Is that what he said?" There's some doubt, though the ex-Commodore obviously told Sands some things. He picks back up walking, so very unaware of the swish to his swagger. "I'm no such thing. Clearly, I've had some sort of impact on the man he'll never be fit to deal with." Jack settles back into looking haughty. "...It's not makeup, though. It keeps the sun and sweat from my eyes... Women don't complain, either."

Sands knows that Jack knows but he's not willing to just say 'yeah it's mine now, fucker'. It's a respect thing.
"Jan owed me for pain and suffering."

Sands doesn't comment on Jack's fate because of the undertone of fear in his voice. He wants to. He wants to poke at him and ask questions.
"Do you get health care with that?" something annoying and stupid like that. Something where Jack knows the man didn't even put the effort in to be clever. But he doesn't.
So instead he picks a small fight to move off the subject.
"Seems to me the whole point of being a pirate is to escape the service. Fucking deserter."

"Never heard of any other pirates wearing it. But I guess that's what makes you captain."
There was so much patronizing snobbery in that sentence a man could choke on it. For the record Norrington never used the words 'great poofter'.
He heads out the doors and waits for Jack.
"Where's a good place for target practice? Any schools or daycare centers nearby? I don't want to go too out of my way for this..."

"Deserter?" Jack can't help himself. He bursts into laughter. The joke, of course, is never shared, but it's fantastic. "Sheldon, mate, you've no idea at all." He smirks and sighs with amusement. "Some things are better abandoned."

The comments on his eyeliner are more likely to rouse a fight than the other. Jack really doesn't see what the problem is.
"Other pirates are rarely as clever or handsome, you'll find."

He arches a brow sharply and pulls back a bit form his companion. "Your joking, right? If we are to shoot people, we should have set to that last night when it was so popular. I think it may go over poorly." He nods solemnly, not that there's anyone around to give a shit. He feels much of his charm is wasted on Sands and it's frustrating.

Sands didn't expect his name calling to be so funny. Realizing it's gone from him mocking Jack to the pirate outright laughing at him he's a little put out.

Sands keeps walking. He would love to see all Jack's facial expressions and hand movements so that he could copy it. The agent would be fascinated. Too bad.
"I don't like jumping on the bandwagon. It's your lesson, Echo. Pick something and take me there. We'll shoot the shit out of it."

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13-year-captain.livejournal.com - 2006-08-12 06:45 (UTC) - Expand

Sands stands in front of Jack with one of the glocks in his hand.
"I don't know how you load that horrible thing you shot me with. But I guarantee you wont go back to that after today."
He pops out the clip out slowly and at an angel Jack can see. Taking a single bullet out and holding it between thumb and forefinger for the man to take he starts with pointing out the differences between ammo.
"This is what I shot you with. The little groves on the tip make the bullet shatter once it hits something. Now to load your gun just slide the bullet inside the clip." He takes another one out showing Jack how to do it. Then hands him the clip.
"Add your bullet."

You load a flintlock pistol with great skill and dexterity and it takes a great bit of skill to do it with any sort of speed. And in the end? All you have is a single shot. Unless you have a multi-barreled gun, and then you have an increased risk of it exploding in your hand. Fun times.

Jack takes the bullet and looks it over, examining the shape and the fact it's assembled from parts. When the purpose of the grooves is explained he scowls at the horrid bastards. He felt how well that works.
"Right. And just how many of these does it hold at once?"
He takes the clip and works to slide the bullet back in, pushing the rest down. "And it only fires one a time, yes?"

"One at a time. But rapid fire is lovely with these things. 13 rounds for this gun." He takes the clip back feeling it to make sure Jack didn't jam it in the wrong way. Then shows him how to slip it back inside the gun.

"Now. Safety. This is why when you tried to shoot me you thought the gun was broken." He flips the tiny switch near the top, pointing the gun down.
"Now we are going to play a game I like to call 'Pervy Tennis Instructor'. Just trust me." The last words were given with an apologetic shrug. As if.
He moves behind Jack holding the gun gently in front of his twin.
"Take the gun. Keep it pointed at the ground until you have a target. Then tell me what it is."
He's behind Jack mostly because he does not want to get accidentally shot. Also it's easier to teach from there. 90% of it is the fear of a fuck up though.

Rapid fire seems like a very useful thing.

When Sands shows Jack the safety, Jack curses himself quietly. That was far too damn easy a thing to do. He has to remind himself that he didn't really want to kill Sands, so it's probably better that he fucked that up...probably.
"So a switch that makes it not work. Brilliant..." Only slightly bitter.

Jack's brows go up and he smiles slyly when Sands moves behind him and wraps arms around. "Careful now, Sheldon, mate... you'll distract me from my lessons."
He takes the gun and scans the beach. "Alright... Coconut..fourteen meters four degrees right of center." Jack shifts his aim onto it. The gun is weighted all wrong for him, but his aim is still good. Better with the grooved sight, actually.

Sands laughs softly. There's some meanness to it but there always is.
"It's so you don't shoot yourself when it's in the holster. In my time all guns have them so it's not quite as sneaky."

"So that makeup is pirate code for 'I'm a bottom'? You're lucky I'm not a narcissist. Now fucking shot something."
Sands is pleasantly surprised at Jack's precise directions. That's always a useful trait to him.
His hands cover Jack's and he wishes he was taller because the pirates hair is getting in his face. At least he's standing right. Perfect in fact. It makes sense that Jack would be good at this and pick it up quickly considering they share so many traits. Though Jack seems to have gotten all his good ones and he missed out on all of Jack's. The urge to kill him right here is so strong he becomes tense and still for a moment before going on like nothing happened.
"The kickback probably isn't as strong. Now you see the groves on top for aim? Sight it. Breathe. And squeeze that trigger as slowly as you can. Putting too much pressure will fuck your aim with a gun this sensitive."

He lets go and steps back so Jack takes his time.

"I see... Makes good sense, then." There wasn't much chance of that with Jack's pistol. The only hazard would be the powder igniting and that could happen with or without the gun being cocked or fired.

Jack sneers a bit at being called the bottom. He plays into a lot of it for the reactions he can get and the amusement, but he doesn't like being called on it..and not like that. Still, Sands can't see the expression, and what he does get is Jack pressing back up against him with a laugh. "No, I just get over excited holding your gun. It is just like mine, and all."

When Sands moves away, Jack lines up his shot and fired; slow and smooth. The kick isn't as strong, and it's more direct. It pushes straight back, rather than shaking the gun. If anything, Jack's aim is improved with the new weapon. There's less to set it off and he's using both hands , for now.

Having another man press up like that probably upsets Sands just as much as being called on Jack's flirting angered him. The exact same sneer flashes on the agents face and is gone.
"There are plenty walking around with that trait who would appreciate it more then me. Aim already."

"Good. Did you hit it?"

Jack grins smugly. Nothing rids him of anger and annoyance easier than passing it to someone else. It's all a matter of balance, isn't it?

There's also some satisfaction in completely destroying something so similar to a human head with a single shot...and from a good distance, as well. The entry hole on the fruit is small, but the exit is wider with chunks of hull and pulp -skull and brain- scattered, and all of the milk bleeding out.

"Oh yes, mate. I hit. Lord, but this is the cleanest and simplest aim of any gun I've ever used... It's marvelous." No rough explosion of powder to jar his grip, no warp to the barrel, no abnormalities to the bullet to send it askew. It's a fine thing, indeed.

Sands moves back around with his hands over Jack's to re-aim. Actually he's just getting his gun back.
"Relax your grip. Okay, good." Slipping the gun out of his hands deftly it disappears somewhere on the agents person.
"You're a natural. The lesson is over. We'll get you a sniper and practice on some moving targets next."

Cleaner, smoother versions of his own hands slide over his grip and Jack, foolishly, listens to what he's told. The gun's pulled away and he turns on Sands with a wry smirk.
"Ohh.. What's this, then? Afraid I'd make off with your gun? Don't you trust me, Shel?"

He laughs to himself and looks out over the water to where the flying Dutchman is moored.
"I would like one of those long range guns... I'll be asking the vampire about that soon enough."

Sands raises eyebrows mockingly as he invades Jack's space in just the way his was back at the apartment. (no he has not let that go yet)
"Pirate."

"Walter will get you one faster. Jan will probably insist someone with sight teach you to use it first." Sands kicks at the ground to smooth it out a little and then sits down, leaning back on his elbows and absorbing the sunlight. Taking his sunglasses off he tilts his head back and up. Most of the time any light hurts him badly. It causes terrible migraines. This will too but later. For now the warmth feels so good.
"Rangiku is busting my balls."

A pirate, to be sure, and quite proud of the fact. So Jack simply smiles. "Guilty."
Jack is utterly fascinated by seeing the things he says and does from this angle. He is, however, also convinced that it's all far more impressive when he does it.

"Jan insists on a great many things. He's really quite funny. I like him." If 'this person's antics amuse me' was not a high ranking criteria in Jack's choices of associates, he might have had a more loyal and qualified crew for the Pearl. Ah well.

He sits down next to his twin and watches his ship out at the dock. It's an impressive ship-of-the-line and really quite beautiful, but it will never quite look like his ship. Not in Jack's mind. It's distressing. Thankfully, he has Sands' problems to distract him.
"Is she? And not in any of the ways you would like, I gather?"

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Meanwhile at the shore...

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