tampered | Log: Static

Log: Static

When; No Self-Control Day
Rating; R for drug use
Characters; Frederick Abberline (

bloodyuseless) and Jack Sparrow (

13_year_captain) to start, open to more later.
Summary; No impulse control means liquor, drugs, and sex. Also violence, but Frank's not the sort to punch out anyone he doesn't hate personally.
Log;

Frederick stumbled away from the 'computer' thing, draining the last of his drink. The bottle was only barely touched, and still so very full - gloriously strong. His vision was already doing incredibly strange things. He'd wait like a good boy, though. He was raised right, damnit, and you always shared when you said you would. The only problem was, that the angrier he got the more his thoughts replayed things from his past, the more he saw Victoria - he needed to be very drunk, or very high, or both, or unconscious - he just needed to stop. The rage at first was so strong he screamed to himself until he felt a pull in his throat, and then turned to the bottle.

He heard a noise at the front, a sort of offbeat pawing, and somehow made his way to the door. His hair was disheveled and his tie undone (his jacket had vanished some time ago), and he swayed a bit as he opened the door. "Hello darling," he deadpanned. Fuck but the man looked exactly like him. How awkward. At least I'm not dressed like a bloody circus trick, he thought.

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A good deal of one of Jack's two bottles of rum disappeared somewhere between Jack's quarters and Abberline's door in the next building over. This and the pirate having his hands full did a lot to explain the odd knocking.

When the door opened, Jack gave Frank a quick look over from toe to tip, trying to seem neither shocked nor bothered by this man's similarity to his own appearance just over a decade or so earlier.
When his eyes came back up again to meet the matching set he grinned wide, flashing gold and held up his hands and he had come bearing (rum, pipe and a small box where Jack kept his opium stored.)
"'Ello, sweet. I've got prezzies. Let us in, eh?"

He pushed his way past this new doppelganger in a swaying stagger to find some table to unburden himself upon.

Frank swayed a bit as he was passed and managed to get the door closed, then turned and followed him inside, flopping down on one end of the sofa in his living room. The low table before it had several cups, and over-turned box of sugar cubes, various other paraphernalia, matches, and candles, all surrounding the holy grail that was the green labeled bottle of absinthe.

"Prezzies are always welcome," he said, with a wave of his hand.

Once all was arranged on the table, Jack flopped down to take a seat next to Frank. Jack wasted no time in breaking up the small lump of opium and loading a bit into the long pipe with dragon carvings that he'd gotten on one trip to China. He fumbled for some of the matches and lit the sticky fruit of the poppy and inhaled deep.

"Lord, but Tia is good to me...." He grinned slow as he exhaled and passed the pipe over to Abberline. Then his ever-animated hands fell to the task of finding absinthe, sugar, strainer, and water and attempting to get all items worked out properly over a glass.
"So how'd you get to this little hell, or is it not a night for conversation?"

"Mmm..." Frank took the pipe and puffed slowly, leaning back and enjoying the familiar sensation in his lungs, and then quickly later, his bloodstream. He'd gotten off it once, knowing exactly how terrible it was, but it ended up killing him ... how bad could it be, now? He was already dead. Besides, the visions were far, far more accurate and powerful when he was working under the influence, and he felt that in this place, he would need the help. "Tia? Your wife?"

He reached out with one hand and held the glass steady while Jack poured, and then sat back again. "I died," he said simply. "Over dosed, actually. On opium. Should be careful, you know. Tricky stuff." He took another drag from the pipe anyway.

Jack choked and sputtered on thick smoke as the question left Frank's lips. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked to his double with wide eyes before laughing. "Wife? Oh hell, mate... " He managed a real drink before going on. "No.. No, Tia's not m'wife. Nor will she be. I don't fancy wither of us would agree to it. Lovely girl.. Excellent shag.. But I'm not one for marriage and she'd not be as tied either, I wager."

He drank and watched the hands and calm expression on his lookalike for a moment. "Too much opium? Not bad. There are far worse ways to go." He took another drink and chuckled bitterly. "I was eaten by a huge and terrible squid. I'm thinking of changing the story, though. No fun in relaying that one. Everyone from here out will be told I dyed in an orgy. ... Sounds alright, actually. Care to die in an orgy? Death is rather temporary here. I shot a man second day...He seems fine by it now."

Frank snorted in an amused wa at the other man's reaction to the concept of marriage. He passed him back the pipe and set about preparing his own drink. "S'nothing wrong wif' marriage," he said. "Quite nice, really.." he trailed off, eying the amount of each bit carefully, and refusing the let his mind wander.

"Death by orgy..." he took a sip. "Hmm. It depends. Would death by orgy be the result of getting my rocks off so well my brain explodes along wif' everything else, or say, getting stuck under some horrible man and being suffocated?" Frank seemed to ponder this, but in reality, he didn't know if he'd even like being in an orgy. He was too damn sentimental.

"Could sing you the same song about being 'married to the sea' that I use t'stop women's complaints, but s'not so simple as that." He let himself relax back into his seat and kept his half-lidded eyes fixed on Frank as he took a long drag from the pipe. "Truth of it is, I won't be tied to anything that isn't going to move at my pace and with my every whim. To that effect, I have my ship -or did- and the clothes on my back, along with what I can easily carry. Any woman that would be as constant as a possession would be a slave. And I'd have little interest in her. Savvy?" Jack let his head loll back and grinned merrily at the ceiling. "Marriage is a fine and honourable thing for a man who holds still."

Another good puff of the opium and he held it out for sharing. "A climax of fatal magnitude, exhaustion and over exertion, torn apart by lovers sent mad with lust...it all sounds worth the loss." Jack opened his eyes slow and looked Frank over, letting a slow and sly grin spread on his lips. "And jus' what sort of man is it you'd like to be stuck under?" Jack chuckled and took a long drink that finished off his glass.

The other man nodded a bit, sipping his drink idly as relaxed on the sofa. "Holding still... would have been beautiful..." he again trailed off. He didn't know what he should continue that line of conversation, because then he'd start talking about Victoria, and he didn't like that. It hurt ... it would always hurt. He felt like the words might rip themselves from his lips, but he was already floating enough that he felt too lazy to act on the impulse.

"Hm now, excellent question," he conceded, taking the ~~unfortunately phallic~~ object from Jack after setting aside his cup. "Nobody horrid, or ugly, so you're out, mate." He shot the man something that might be considered a smile before taking a long drag.

Jack let his companions wistful musings on marriage slip by him, having no real desire for hearing Frank pour his heart out. He'd had enough of ill memories and unpleasantness. Now he was more concerned with the lack of women, thus far. Though, it was not a problem that could not be worked around.... You learn that sort of lesson on a ship.

He pouted and gave a sour and insulted look at being rejected outright before even finishing in his propositioning. Jack was soon smiling back at his double through the smoke, though. "Which is it I fall under? Horrid or ugly? 'm all you've got to look forward to given a few years and a less dandy life, you nancing fop. Wouldn't be so critical if I were you."
With a laugh, Jack turned to put his back to the arm of the sofa and toss a leg across Frank's lap as he stretched out.

"What're you..." Frank looked down at the limb in his lap, momentarily confused. The opium was starting to kick in heavily - it seemed his tolerance, while still impressive, was not quite enough to keep him coherent. "Fucking..." muddy, dirty boot on his pants. How rude. He wrangled the leather thing off and let it fall to the floor.

"M'not a nancing fop," he grumbled. He was a bit touchy about that sort of thing - after the ordeal with Cleveland Street, he'd never been entire sure about himself... that night... that boy... no. No no no, not thinking about that. No. This calls for more absinthe, and he takes another drink.

Frank's behaviour was more than a little amusing to the pirate. Jack made the decision then to try and have his fun here, as the alternative was leaving and wandering the streets and...there seemed to be gunfire ringing out outside.

"Oh, aren't you? ... My mistake." He leaned far to the side to fill his glass again, nearly rolling off of both sofa and companion in the process. Due to the clear peril of the task, this glass ended up with far less water and sugar than the last. Jack took a long drink and was left with a suffering soured expression for a moment from the taste. "Ugh...hell...evil stuff."

A second leg flopped up onto the inspector's lap and Jack held his boot up for the man. "That one... remove it as well." If his companion fancied undressing him, than he was welcome to continue. Jack removed his hat and set it to rest on the back of the sofa.

"Suppose I'll bloody have to," Frank grumbled, and yanked off Jack's other boot, sending it off to join its mate. Of course, then he was left with two pirate legs in his lap and he wasn't having that. "Excuse me," he began, raising one eyebrow archly and pointing at the problem, "I am not a fucking footstool."

He pushed at Jack and flailed about, moving until he ended up laying half on top of the other man, and nose to nose with his drink. "Oh, thank you." He took an awkward sip, and then collapsed.

Jack smiled as his orders were followed without question. Then Frank fell atop him and began thieving from his drink and he couldn't help but laugh. Oh this was delicious and hilarious. He took to petting Frank's hair.
"Very welcome, Frederick..."

His hand slid slowly down to cup against that cheek shaped so like his own and move his thumb in small circles over the smooth skin. Jack wonders if he ever truly looked that soft. He certainly never looked so serious as this man seemed to so often.

Frederick blinked a bit at Jack, wondering at the contact. The other man... it was strange, looking at him. The hair and the tan and the teeth were not what got him, but the lines on his face... smile lines. He wondered what it would be like to have that sort of life. Would he look anything like that, if... Don't think about her.

He took another deep drink before setting his glass aside (a task which took two tries to get it balanced on the table). Jack raised his brows to the way his strange mirror reflection was looking at him.
"What is it, mate? Something catch your eye?"

Something certainly had Jack's attention. With no ability to hold back, Sparrow leaned down and claimed a kiss from lips the same delicate shape as his. His hair fell around both of them until he pulled away, grinning wide and self-satisfied.

Frank looked particularly startled, and moved back a bit, confused and visibly flustered. He'd kissed another man, once. One of the boys who sold themselves - completely unthinkable and illegal, but he'd spent all night sitting with him, just talking. Talking about how his nature was against the law, and that he'd been forced into this.. Abberline hadn't been able to put those poor boys through the hell of exposure to nail those Free Manson bastards (even though they'd been given an out anyway ... typical). He shouldn't have... they shouldn't have...

"Fuck."

He leaned forward and kissed Jack harshly, one hand fisting in his shirt.

"Not a bad idea, rea..."

Jack was caught off guard and silenced when his shirt was snagged and lips were pressed suddenly back to his. This was a rather fortunate, if unexpected, turn of events. He gave in to the kiss completely and one of his ever-busy hands moved down to pull open the buttons of Frank's shirt.

Frank had no real idea what he was doing. Lips and teeth an tongue and -- god, what was he doing? He reached up to hold Jack's face in his hands, the familiar-yet-not shape both foreign and comforting.

With a little awkward wrestling, Jack managed to get Frank's shirt open and began the task of moving it off of the man, though he was only willing to give up the touch of one hand at a time.

When the task was done, Jack pulled away to look at Frank and run fingers over the man's exposed skin. He'd almost forgotten what he looked like unscarred.
"Smooth as a babies arse, aren't you?" Jack laughed and pulled Frank close again, using one hand to work at pulling his own shirt away. This trick was not working very well.

The sight that greets Rangiku makes a grin bloom on her face.

"Oh, look... such handsome men playing together. Makes my old heart so happy."

With a saucy wink, she tilts herself to lean against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

"Am I interrupting, boys?"

Frederick hears another person in his room and, with a rather violent start, realizes what he's doing and rolls away, falling ungracefully to the floor in the process. He swears loudly and looks up at the new visitor. She looks vaguely familiar, but he's had entirely too much absinthe and opium to place her. He tries to ask her what she's doing in his apartment, but it comes out as an awkward slur of unintelligible words.

Jack, on the other hand, had perfected 'almost intelligible slurring' long ago. Once he finished pouting over the touching and kissing drawing to a close, he noticed Ran.

Though things were a bit blurry, he could never miss Rangiku's...figure. He stopped halfway to helping Frank up and grinned broadly at her.
"Ran! ... Interrupting? No. ... Want to help?"
Whether he meant 'help' get Abberline off the floor or 'help' continue in what she had walked in on was left as merrily ambiguous as the Captain himself.

She shakes her head with a laugh and moves to help the downed man. Once he's settled, she wiggles herself into a comfy spot on the arm of the sofa and peers down at them, an obviously teasing frown marring her expression.

"Shame on you boys... couldn't wait, could you?"

"Oh.. Miss Rangiku.." Frank was half-melted against the back of the couch, clearly sailing somewhere off the physical realm. Every time he stopped paying close attention to the room and people around him, he began seeing a giant clock with laughing faces instead of numbers. "... Wait?"

"I couldn't... I never wait. Not well." He laughed and finished pulling his shirt off, because there was no sense leaving a thing half done.

He grinned at Frank and leaned over the man to be closer to Ran.
"Told you I could get a girl here, mate. Jus' took a bit."

Ran slid down the arm of the couch to settle on the cushion, putting her level with the men. It was easy to see how much she was liking the view, with the way her eyes roamed back and forth between the two men. The resemblance was uncanny, really, barring some minor differences.

"It's nice to meet you in person, Mr. Abberline, even if I usually make a point to meet someone for the first time when they're sober." She shoots Jack an amused smile. "Captain's corrupting new residents now, is he?"

"Unfortunately these are habits I'm rather well acquainted with," Abberline said, somehow not tripping over his words. The woman was coming into focus in his mind - oh yes, he'd communicated with her over the computer thing. "Likewise." He paused for a moment, trying to remember what they were all doing there. Oh. "Please, have a drink."

"See? He was like this when I found him. No fault of mine!" Jack laughed again and shifted a bit in his seat so he could lean over to the table. There, he poured a glass of absinthe for their new guest and strained water the water over the sugar.

He held the glass out for Ran, pulled it back and took a drink, then held it out again.
"You really should share with us, love! It's a good party. ... You're over dressed."

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Abberline. I believe I'd love a drink. "

Apparently, Jack didn't warn him about asking her to have a drink... She couldn't help but laugh again as she took the drink from him. It didn't take her long to down it and grin at the men.

"This isn't bad, for something I've never had before. Still, it's no match for a fine sake. Remind me next time we drink together and I'll bring some. And what's this aboutbeing overdressed? This is the usual uniform I wear as a shinigmai."

Frederick wondered at how fast she drank it - did she know what it was? Absinthe wasn't exactly some fancy alcohol, it had hallucinogens in it.. quite strong ones, judging from what he'd had so far. Some bottles were better than others, after all. Oh, well.

"I seem to have misplaced my shirt..." he said airily.

"As have I! It's an epi... epidemic! Something should be done!"
Being a man of action, Jack crawled over Frank to set to the task of trying to tug Ran's kimono down.

"Ran, love, we haven't need for any shini... any death dealing things. We're already dead... You're over dressed. ...Don't fear, though. I'll help."
And help he did..or tried.

She blinked a couple of times, noting the unusually early rush of alcohol in her system. It didn't often happen; her feeling the effect this easily, but she mentally dismissed any concern and allowed herself to enjoy the slow buildup of heat under her skin.

She wiggled under Jack's hands, a giggle tripping over her lips. "Alright, alright... here." Slim fingers untied the white obi and allowed the haori top to fall open, pausing for a moment before she pushed it off of her shoulders, leaving her bare from the waist up except for the silver chain necklace that dipped into her cleavage.

"Fair's fair. Now we're all topless."

Jack could do little more than smile, slow and dumb, at all the freshly exposed skin. The gears in his brain were sticky with the sap of poppies and the poison of thujone, but when they eventually clicked together, the curse did not allow for worry over consequence. The pirate dropped down against Rangiku, plunging his face into her cleavage and wiggling it merrily in that warm (and expansive) valley.

When he came up for air, he dropped down onto her lap and smiled up at her...giggling. Draped over two, attractive, half naked and inebriated people was a fine place to be.
"Ran? You are remarkably beautiful. If someone has to come for my soul one day, I hope she's as lovely."

Good Lord but that woman had huge tits. Abberline was trying not to think about it, as it was completely rude and ungentlemanly, but ... he didn't seem capable of putting a stop to the compulsion. Jack as also in his lap, which was... interesting. They'd been doing something before, hadn't they? They'd been on a carousel, and the inside was caving in, and Jack was bleeding.. wait, no.. it was.. Damnit. Frank did not join the conversation, but stared at them, confused.

Ran grinned down at Jack's new position, bending lower to brush warm lips over his forehead. "I'll make sure your reaper is lovely, my captain. I promise." Her head dropped back to rest among the cushions, gaze sliding over to their silent companion.

"They don't bite, dear. And neither do I. At least, not on the first date."

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Log: Static

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