A graceful landing; The Spanish Main--Tortuga [Completed]
After a while of poking around Jack had concluded one thing: This little sloop had a lot of gadgets. Every time he poked a button or groped a lever, some kind of light would respond or strange beep would sound out of nowhere. He spent about an hour searching for the source of said beep, ducking and looking up into the roof of the cabin. After a
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This one looked sort of familiar... had he stolen something from this man before? The pirate gave this strange drunk a speculative once over-then noticing the tell-tale blue coat. It was ratty and pretty unkept, but a blue coat none the less. Not good.
“So it’s Mister Norry... Norra..Nn...” He snapped his fingers, “Norrington.” That was it. Hopefully. He didn’t make a point of remembering the names of those who’d tried to introduce him to the gibbet. “Fancy meeting a respectable gent such as yourself in place like this. You look rather affixed on your rum and I’d hate to keep you.”
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'Mister Norrington' instead of 'Commodore' - either the pirate had gotten wind of his current situation or he was deliberately aiming to insult him, unwittingly striking just the right nerve with his words. No, a 'respectable gent' would never be seen in a place like this. It appalled him to acknowledge how far he had fallen, although it was no secret to him in the first place.
"Not at all," he replied, his voice laced with a sardonic tone as he gave Jack a humourless smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Kind of you to visit. I do hope you'll consider staying for a while." One of his hands left the table and he gestured towards the chair opposite his own, suggesting that Jack take a seat.
"I'm sure we have much to catch up on, Captain Sparrow."
He continued to watch Jack, but reached for the bottle of rum the pirate had returned to the table and placed the top against his lips, briefly tilting his head back to take a swig of the drink before setting the bottle back down.
Inwardly, he grimaced, not so much at the taste, but at the connotations of being here, drinking this...
While he wasn't so drunk that it seriously affected his judgment and thinking, he was drunk enough for anger and bitterness, whether meant for himself or certain pirates, to leak into his speech and demeanour far more easily than they would otherwise. Now that Jack Sparrow was standing in front of him, Norrington was sorely tempted to focus on him as a target.
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“A man comes to this place to have a good time and good company.”Jack grabbed his own bottle of rum off of a nearby table-one that had a person who would obviously not object, or be in any shape to object, it being taken.
Perhaps it was curiosity that coaxed the pirate to take his hat off and have a seat at the table.
Doubtful that any man of the navy would consider a living pirate good company at all. How curious. “So how is it that a gentleman such as yourself comes upon Tortuga, and instead of being popular with many of the ladies, sits here by his onesy to drink rum.” Jack pretended to think for a moment, craning over his tricorn hat. “It may be that yee may be trying to drown something other than your thirst with rum, aye?” Concern for any state of being was second to the pirate, what more interested him was the last time he had heard mention of the Commodore was around the storming season.
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Norrington didn't return to his seat. Needless to say, pirates were not his idea of good company and Tortuga was not the place to have a good time.
Funny, how accurate Sparrow's deduction was. Unfortunately, it wasn't really funny in the least.
"How indeed." Norrington leaned across the table once Jack had spoken, his palms placed flat against the wooden surface. "As you can see, I seem to have far more time on my hands now than in the past. Oh, I have you to thank for that," he said, thinly veiled sarcasm dripping from the statement. "Had I caught you, I assure you that we would not be having this conversation here - or at all, for that matter."
There would be no guilt to erase.
A sudden burst of anger struck him and, for once, he allowed himself to lash out openly. His hand grasped the edge of the table and he threw the entire thing aside, letting it turn over and crash to the floor, along with anything that had been sitting on it. Still reasonably steady on his feet, he quickly drew the pistol resting at his side and aimed the muzzle at Jack.
Some of the mostly sober, conscious and not preoccupied people in the tavern were looking their way, staring at the second, though less unusual spectacle of the night.
"What will it be? Shall I ensure that you are finally taken to the gallows with no unexpected escape route or is it already too late? Then perhaps I should kill you myself. I suppose neither of us has anything to lose." Keeping his arm still, Norrington gave the pirate a wry smile. "And might I remind you that 'captain' is generally a rank one must earn, yet you are neither a commissioned officer in His Majesty's service nor are you on board your ship at the moment, Mister Sparrow."
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...How bloody wasteful.
However disregarded, the threat of the pistol wasn’t forgotten.
It seemed that the pirate was had by the gills for the moment. He slowly stood up, putting his palms in the air to make certain that he wouldn’t shoot...for the moment. “It seems to me I have quite a bit to lose in either of those choices.” Ah, this was one of the reasons that sitting with anyone who didn’t bear the title of pirate seldom had occurred.
“Now, as it seems to..” Jack peered around the barrel of the pistol, “seems to me that in a panic-y frenzy such as Port Royal is in, that the apprehension of a scallywag might go underappreciated no matter how wanted said pirate may be.” Slowly letting his hands down to his front, fingertips meeting one another, Jack continued, “It would be such a shame for a gent such as yourself to be going through such difficulties and troubles for no recognition at all.” They even seemed to be lacking any gallows at all thanks to the little black inkies who had gallivanted through the place. From an honestly dishonest man, Jack spoke the truth.
“However, If said pirate knew a way that the black inkies could be gotten rid of, well, then keeping him alive might be more profitable for your country, seeming as you’re an honourable man.” Placing a finger apprehensively on the tip-top of the gun he tried slowly diverting the shot away, “What say you to that?”
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He kept his finger poised above the trigger and the pistol trained on Jack. He was loath to admit it, but the pirate's reasoning held actual sense. However, Jack's words were based on assumptions. And, undoubtedly, Port Royal's fate wasn't in the forefront of his mind to the extent that saving his own skin was. It was very possible that his claim that he knew a way to rid the Caribbean of those 'black inkies' was merely a bluff to buy himself some time.
On the other hand, if there was a chance that he was speaking the truth, it really could be worth keeping him alive, even if a small number of good deeds hardly excused everything that went hand in hand with being a pirate.
But placing one's faith in a pirate? That seemed rather unwise. Whether as a last resort or not, Jack Sparrow couldn't be considered trustworthy.
Frowning, Norrington nudged Jack's finger aside and raised the pistol a little higher to point it at the pirate's face.
"Unfortunately, Mister Sparrow, I'm no longer in a position to serve my country," he retorted. "I have my doubts that either of us would be received with open arms. That being said, one must wonder why you would make your way to Tortuga instead of Port Royal, if you intend to put your solution to use."
In spite of himself, he wanted to hear what Sparrow had to say. Port Royal had already suffered one devastating attack. Had there been others since his departure?
Concern for Elizabeth and her father was hard to shake.
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It was glad to see that mister commodore, not quite a commodore at the moment, decided to go give up on government. A troublesome thing, government was. Always against pillaging and always for keeping to their rules. If Norrington no longer served England, that would make this a lot more convenient.
Foremost, the reason why he had come to port Tortuga; there were several, but one main reason he had decided to come to a forceful stop at this place of all places. Amazingly enough, it had nothing to do with rum, picking pockets, or trying to have some pleasurable company only do wind up with a red hand-print across his cheek. “Simple reason, that.” Jack awkwardly mimicked his steps back to open space, taking large awkward and disheveled steps which made him look rather intoxicated.
“Due to the sea inkies, me crew thought it better to take my ship and port it. Without a crew, I don’t have me ship, Without me ship I can’t be sailing, without sailing I can’t be going about finding any treasures or maps that lead to anything of value, and without maps of value there can be no getting rid of pesky inkies.” He leaned uncomfortable forward, but realizing the guns still lingering presence, leaned back and gave a quick smile and frown combination before trying to avert the barrel-head away from him again.
There would probably be a question of what that thing-sticking-out-of-the-wall was concerned with in all this mess. “I need me a crew.” With that sloop he had come by, a crew of only a few would probably suffice. They weren’t really necessary, but a captain needed a crew in order to be captain over someone. “Can’t go and fight those cheeky sea inkies all on my own.”
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"You're hoping to recruit crew members to join you on this noble, heroic quest of yours," Norrington remarked flatly, lifting one of his eyebrows. He made no effort to keep his opinion of Jack and his ideas out of his voice.
Recruiting pirates, here, with no ship and a vague goal. That would take some luck. Surely, unless Sparrow had some sort of reward for said prospective crew hidden on his person or connected to one of those 'maps of value', it was going to be a challenge to find that willing crew to fight the 'cheeky sea inkies'.
Unsurprisingly, Jack Sparrow's intentions clearly weren't altruistic, since those creatures were evidently a direct problem for the pirate himself. If they weren't plaguing the ocean and preventing sailors from safely navigating the seas - or pirates from going about their so-called business - it was unlikely that a pirate would go to the trouble of searching for a way to get rid of them. Certainly not for the good of the country.
What Jack had said gave no real indication that he actually had a plan. Elusive maps of 'value' didn't sound particularly reliable. The entire explanation had been shaky and didn't make a great deal of sense. Pirate logic.
Norrington chuckled grimly and shook his head. "As important and pressing as the matter may be, I'm afraid I can't let you out of my sight again. Old habits die hard."
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More importantly, the chance to talk this situation into a resolve seemed to be slipping away. Not only did the pistol still remain painfully pointed, but now it seemed he had gained himself a watcher. Jack grimaced, showing a couple caps to those gold teethe. “One, such as yourself who has come to hate pirates watching a pirate. One would think that instead of watching a pirate go about his pirating, you would want to get away from any such vrijibuiter as soon as yee could.” It was one step away from shoo-ing the former powdery-wigged man.
“Instead,” He motioned with this hands in a circular fashion, “Instead of watching that pirate, you could keep an eye on something vastly more valuable to him.” What was more valuable? Definitely not his compass or his sword, nor his gun--There was no way he would let any man in Tortuga to watch his hat-but perhaps. “...Me ship!” Jack pointed to the black sloop which was still lingering through the taverns wall.
If he could get Norrington to watch his ship, odds were that there would be no one to do such as he and pirate the thing from his sights. The perfect chance to try and gather himself some scurvy dogs to captain over. “Watch that pirates ship, and make sure that he can’t get away from your sights later, whereas the person is slippery, the ship is big. Aye?”
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"Mister Sparrow," he began, speaking as though he were about to explain something to a small child, "if I had run away every time I encountered a pirate, the number of pirates would never have decreased. I prefer a different approach of dealing with the problem."
It was better to confront something unpleasant, while remaining levelheaded about it, than to avoid facing the issue out of dislike for it. He hadn't been considered the scourge of piracy in the Caribbean for nothing. As Jack Sparrow had said himself, the Black Pearl had been the last real pirate threat left in these waters.
"While I have no intention of watching you go about your pirating, I'm similarly not prepared to simply turn around and walk away now. Sorry to disappoint."
He raised both of his eyebrows to give Jack a skeptical look as the pirate continued, but glanced into the direction of the peculiar vessel that was still lodged partially in the broken wall, eyeing it dubiously.
That. Was supposed to be a ship.
It had no sails and seemed to be completely closed on all sides, and although it was difficult to determine from a distance, the 'ship' didn't appear to be made of wood. A strange vessel indeed, but apparently it was actually possible to use it.
Norrington pressed his lips together in a frown. On one hand, if that really was the ship the pirate intended to leave Tortuga with, he would be forced to return to it, even if he found his crew, so it would make sense to keep an eye on it.
On the other hand, a pirate was slippery. His word was not something to rely on. Norrington didn't like the idea of giving Jack Sparrow another chance to escape - there was a possibility that the pirate would find another ship along with a crew and would use that to sail away instead.
But, considering the current state of the seas, a closed vessel, no matter how odd its appearance was, seemed far more useful than an ordinary ship. Presumably Jack was aware of this.
"Very well." Norrington slowly lowered the pistol. "Understand that if you do not return, you'll have provided me with a new ship."
The threat was implied - a new ship with which to pursue Jack Sparrow.
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“I’ll keep that inescapably in me head.” Ah, a new sloop perhaps. Provided Norrington could figure out how to remove the thing from the wall and maneuver it around. Even though Jack was quite new to the buttons and dings within the innards of the flying machine-he did know the sloops little secret: Putting his feet up on the dash was the way to get it started, or at least that’s how it had worked the first time.
Now that he had a clear out, Jack started to back away slowly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, the sooner I get about my business the shorter time yee have to be waiting around.” Once he had gotten to the safety of one of the bordering walls in the tavern he made sure to make one last comment which had been on his mind for quite some minutes. “....Before we depart,” Craning around the wall he yelled back, “you may want to consider pointing that pistol at whoever soiled your snazzy blue coat. It seems a bit..dirty.” After a quick bow of the head, the buccaneer made a rather hasty exit.
[[OOC: *killed*]]
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