tampered | Log:Ongoing

Sands still doubts it. For the exact same reason Jack would make it a point to let him how he's a tad smaller. They both employ large men as subordinants. Being a thin build puts them at a disadvantage and makes them seem a lot smaller. Though not short by any means at 5'10 they are men. Things like that matter.
He tilts his head at the pirate wondering how he can figure out the truth for himself.

"Complain complain. I give so much and receive so little in return. It will keep you from getting frost bite where the bacteria ate through your clothes. And we look good in black."
He's just assuming on Jack's part.

It is for the reason of a bit of leverage that Jack bothers with mentioning it, as well as leaving it vague and playing up the difference in size where he can. Exaggerated truths will always be a thousand times more useful than full lies.

"Black's jus' a bit boring, an' awful in the sun. I've always preferred blue." Still not giving up a nice gift. Not a chance. "And jus' what is it you expect in return? I thought my forgiveness...such as it is...was worthy payment enough." He won't be in debt for the fancy coat, however. Maybe if it was a bit longer below the waist and a size or two larger to fit more loosely....

"Black is not boring. It is traditional. Remembering Mexico- I would have to agree with you about the sun though."

"Your forgiveness was all I was after." He holds his hands up in surrender.
"I'm just worried about the both of us. You never told me if you took the mother to Jones like the girl and I wonder what plan to come up with to save us from this. Your ass is my ass after all..."

"I say, then, that you shouldn' worry so terribly over whot I choose to do to said jointly shared arse, and trust my judgment." He laughs to himself, enjoying the multiple possible implications. Still...there is the matter that's been raised, and he doesn't look forward to the reaction.

Jack sighs and takes a seat, heavily, on the couch.

"Nothing, mate. I did nothing with the mother. ... I don't know if anyone in that street was clearminded enough to see straight, so at least our worry of witnesses is limited. Should question be raised, Alice...to some degree...serves as my alibi, and I as yours. Should she or any choose to point blame, I wager it shall fall -as you well predicted- with me, which should do little to worry you.... And what great harm could they do in lynching me, eh? Ha..."
His voice doesn't sound nearly as confident as he'd like, but a great deal more than he is.

Stay calm. Do not yell.
"Jack. I think it's a mistake to leave Alice. She's be hysterical- blaming..."
No wait. Blaming herself more then anyone. Perhaps Jack is right. No witnesses. Jack was with the mother when Sands took the child. She never saw him and considering the shame she feels over how she lost her child it's very possible Jack is the last person she would be telling people about.
But it's a 50/50 chance.

"If they do come after you they wont be far behind with pitchforks for me. Maybe taking the mother this late would be a mistake. The two disappearing at different times would look so much worse then just the girl wandering off and then getting taken. But at least agree to find the woman and do a little surveillance. Find out what she's doing before you decide to trust everything will work for us."
Sands has reached the end of his diplomatic stick.

Slumping a bit where he sits, Jack nods. Damn Sands for being right.

"Fine. I will keep an eye on her. Probably for the best. Besides, it would do to keep up the image that I wish to help her, if I can manage. Though...tha's a think to be moved towards with care, else have it all go pear shaped before I have her trust again."

He raises his head, eyes narrowed at Sands.

"You are not -you realize, of course- without blame here, Shel. I do so hate to bear bad news."

Sands is very calm about this- speaking like a patient adult with a particularly stubborn and stupid child.
"Now, Echo. I thought you knew what I had planned from nearly the beginning. And I would have told you everything in spanish had you come with us instead of staying behind to fuck mommy in a dirty ally. This was just a miscommunication."

One, in his opinion, that is totally Jack's fault. This conclusion is easy to come up with when one sees nothing wrong with taking the child in the first place.
"Now give us a cuddle."
He smiles holding his arms out. Sands wants a hug so he can compare size. Otherwise it will drive him mad.

"I'd still be a bit lost on it. My Spanish is somewhat lacking." Though his French is excellent when he doesn't get it muddled with bits of other languages. It's this sort of problem that makes his Spanish so flawed. It usually ends up with a great number of French and creole words mixed in.

He picks at his nails, trying to work his way around feeling remorse for fucking Alice. In the past, he's never had to regret sex unless he caught something from his partner. Even if the liquor faded and his choice of temporary lover turned out to be less attractive than he remembered, it was still sex and no use feeling badly over it. This time he actually feels he's wronged a woman by shagging her. It's unpleasant. Not to mention, maybe it did cause a lot of the complications here...

"Besides...if I'd just taken my leave of that woman when you fucked off, it would have looked more than a little suspicious -you understand- with the way armed and aimed against her hip at the time."
There. A fair excuse.

"Cuddle?" Jack laughs and leans back on the couch. "Look, mate, you're as far forgiven as you're going to be. You can give it a rest now."
Sands has no real interest in him or men at all, so far as Jack has seen. He's not getting up to hug another man if it isn't to empty his pockets or get a bit closer to dragging him to bed. Sands isn't even drunk, so the second option is clearly out.

"Dutch. Afghan. Gay Pirate. Whatever other language you speak I would have found it. That's not the point.
Though- I will admit leaving Alice suddenly might have been a bad idea. I asked you to flirt with her. Not rub your dirty little bits against her hip. You do see the difference, yes?"

Sands lets his disappointment show on his face as he lowers his arms. Fine then. He'll just ask around. Dropping into a chair he pouts at Jack's phrasing, expecting to be fully forgiven and drug buddies again. Never having friends he's unaccustomed to being on their bad side. It's no fun.
"I spent the night with Ran."
There. The one subject that brings them closer no matter what mood the other is in. Rangiku's breasts.

"Well, I wasn't exactly holding out much hope for you to be in the mood after your games were through..."
Ugly motivation, perhaps, but a large part of the truth. The parade had Jack incredibly damn randy and his options were a little limited unless he wanted to put real effort into searching out someone to get his rocks off. He wasn't going to run back to Tia. He doesn't want to be that dependent or that loyal. It's boring.

Nothing has been said as to whether they're still drug buddies. Jack could use somewhere to go to get high aside from his quarters and someone to keep him company for it. Tia seems to be worrying about his habits more and that's troubling.
He watches Sands sit and pout at him and wonders if it looks that childish when he does it. (Likely more so, really. It's just something in Jack's demeanor.)

"Did you? About bloody time, mate. If you dragged your arse on the matter much longer, I was going to be forced to do the gentlemanly thing and fill in for you."
The tone says the pirate is strictly joking, but Jack truly had considered sleeping with Ran. It's something he's avoided, in large part, out of respect for Sands. He would do it now, not only because he wants to, but to hurt his twin. The idea, truly, hasn't been entirely given up.

"If you had just asked for that instead of knocking me out you would have had a better time. As is, you missed your change when leaving me unmolested while out cold."
Oh, they both know he would have ripped the pirate apart if Jack had tried. And Sands thinks the pirate prefers the cooperation anyway. While the promise of sex is given when the opportunity presents itself, Jack is right as far as his interest in men go. There is none. He'll shoot them before fulfilling his other obligations.

He gives a still proud grin at his friend when commended. Even the threat of taking the situation in his own hands doesn't ruin it for Sands. He's in a rather good mood. The pirate is staying no matter his sulking and he slept last night. A wondrous thing he gets little of.
"I haven't had her yet. I don't even need to at this point. Though if I could have I would, trust me on that. But since I can't- it's like having your plans canceled and finding a wonderful afternoon just dozing on the porch. Deck. What have you. We slept through the end of the blizzard naked in bed. Best night I've had since-" He waves a hand signifying his old life where he had a job, eyes, a girlfriend, and plans for a small private island.
"-before. Insert threats of me coming on board to spit in your mouth as you sleep if you touch Ran blah blah- So how is your love life, Echo?"

"Who's to say I left you unmolested, Shel?"
He grins, though he now rather wishes he had thought to sully Sands' unconscious form. He was in no mood at the time, but it would have served as decent enough revenge for the moment. Still...it only matters what Sands thinks happened. Jack, for his part, however, doesn't even notice he's back to the informality of nicknames.

"Don't need to, eh? Perhaps you're a stronger man than I." The pirate can't even imagine laying nude beside a woman that exquisite and doing nothing more than sleeping. It's an impossible task as far as he's concerned.
"As to my -love life, you called it? heh- I've not been left to polish my own knob, and that's all I truly ask." In all honesty, Jack is happy to have sex available when he wants it, but it's getting a little like monogamy and that's upsetting. At this point in his life, even the limitations of just having one city full of women is a bit boring for him. He likes variety.

"I wasn't bleeding from the ass, had a bad taste in my mouth, or soreness in the eye socket. I'm betting you tied me up and dropped me off without even thinking about it."
Privately Sands thinks that better be the case. Or Jack will spend a long time in a steel cage at the bottom of the ocean.

"You have a useless crew of questionable women and a swinger girlfriend. Don't play it down so much." Sands (for the most part) is a one woman kind of guy. He flirts a lot but his wild oats were sown already. He would never understand.
"And there's a lot to be said for jerking yourself off. I miss that first tug in the shower. You should appreciate it a bit more."
He takes out a pack of cigarettes, lighting two of them and passing one to Jack.

"That would all be a little obvious, wouldn't it? Shows no skill or technique."
Best to keep him guessing. And it's fun. Jack doesn't bother seeing where he should stop pressing his luck.

"I dare not think of them as useless. They most certainly have their uses. Though, Ran has been claimed for you, now hasn't she? Unfortunate. I'll need to recruit again, I should think."
It's not that Jack is promiscuous for show, and he doesn't have anything against masturbation. There are simply things he needs in sex that he can't achieve alone. It's the close company and the total focus that he's after. Alone, his mind wanders.

He gladly takes the offered cigarette and takes a long drag. He's getting a little more accustomed to the filter.

"Bull shit." Sands knows Jack is trying to get his goat. Still there is a tiny nagging in his brain that will bug him.

"As far as you and me are concerned she's mine. Just don't say shit to her about it. Don't fuck with me on this. I am not the smaller animal."
He stares at Jack through the blindfold and holes in his head. He'll say what he has to to keep Jack from touching her. Anyone else he's fine with. But not his clones.

Jack grins, satisfied. That nagging worry planted in Sands' mind is all he wanted.

"I could make the argument that you owe me, but I shall not, for now. She's yours and I'll keep my hands to myself. I can't promise to refuse advances, I'm only human after all, but I shall refrain making any of my own."
He plans to keep to this. However, he's not very clear on the numerous things he qualifies as a woman 'making advances'. So many go unaware that they flirted with Jack first.

Sands considers his wording. It's not as if Ran didn't have plenty of chances. And he sure can't picture Jack turning her down no matter what threats he gives. Knowing that's as good as it will get he nods, tapping his ash out.
"Okay. Do we spit on our hands before shaking or some other pirate like thing?"
He's not sure if pirates did that or not.

"To make the agreement truly official, I believe we shall need to drop our trousers and shake one another's pricks. Only way to be really sure of a bond of trust."
Sometimes, it's just fun to see how far you can go. 'Some pirate like thing', indeed. It makes Jack snicker to himself and he's glad Sheldon can't see his grin.

If it was anyone else he might call that bluff. But Jack would win that one. Doesn't mean he'll take a fall this early on. More bullshitting has to be had even though he knows he'll lose.
"Fuck you, Sea Queer." He flips the pirate off with a smile.
"Suck my prick and we'll negotiate some more. Suck it like your country slurps up American cum like milk, limey bastard."

God, it's great to have friends.

"Now Shel, don't tease... it's cruel. Tosser."

He smirks and stretches out to occupy the whole of the couch. Jack instinctually claims things. The couch has been commandeered.

"Will these oral negotiations be necessary to earn me a dink? Rum, wine, brandy..whatever you have that isn't internally produced shoud suit. You really are a poor host, you know."
He turns his head towards Sands.
"Are all of those living in the colonies as charming as you, or is this a unique talent?"

It is good to have friends. Even when you're halfway frightened of them.

"My mom was the only one to ever call me that until you came along. Did yours have a special nick name for her little boy or did she go the honesty rout and refer to you as 'that one little bastard' in your tender years?"
He gets up and walks to the kitchen pulling out a bottle of tequila. Jack will drink what he drinks and enjoy it, god damnit.

Grabbing only one glass he sits down- pouring the drink like it was orange juice and handing over the bottle to his twin.
"We're pretty much all like this. That whole English thing wasn't working out and besides that great 'white prick' thing we have in common our two countries tried to separate as much as possible. With no royalty we started our own blue bloods from-" He sweeps a hand out to Jack in a grand gesture. "- you. Pirates, Bootleggers, cheats and scoundrels all. In my time the legitimate sprogs your peers produce are the closest things to aristocrats America has. Useless pieces of shit- all of them. Helpless. Stupid. And sickeningly pale. Your future. Be glad your bones rotted to nothing by time it happened."
Holding his glass up in a toast he drinks the clear booze down as if it was water.

At the question, Jack's brows raise and he turns his eyes away a moment. No, o course not. Never in his life did his mother call him 'Jacky-darling', 'pup' or her 'baby bird'. That would be silly.
"That is one I heard quite often. From my mum or those returning me to 'er... the poor woman... No one else calls you Shel? Seems a good name to me."

Thankfully, discussion of mothers and names seems as though it may be safely deterred with drinking. Jack doesn't recognize what he's handed and would call you a liar if you told him it's a specialized brandy, but he'll drink it just the same. Once Sands has taken a sip, at least, and proven it safe.

"I don' know... I think I should like to see that. Royalty, to my knowledge, has rarely been more than the sickly and the slow witted. Rulers to revere and bow before as other man mold the world from the wings. It's no surprise, to be honest, that one could take the wit and free spirit of a pirate or rogue and fit him to the mold of the ruling class...all it takes is enough power given over. Or even, really, the illusion of power. Still...the people of a nation run like a pirate port must be interesting. Then of course, there's the fact I'd rather not die."

Watching Sands drink, the pirate finally accepts his own and takes a long pull from the bottle. Bit of a stronger burn than he'd expected for a clear alcohol and he's glad Sands can't see his face. He'll be ready for it now.

Log:Ongoing

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