Happy Birthday (Backdated June 9th)

[shooting_blind]

It's the Johnny Depp character's birthdays. Those in the lounge (Sam, Sands, and Jack) all gather around the pool. The original plan was to celebrate in the Den book Hook has taken over that room. There's a large coconut cake for them and the three have apparently decided the best way to party is to sit around glaring at each other. Jack is angry

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[downwithmyship]

So, there they sit. Jack, for his part, wasn't certain of his birth date aside from its being in the late spring or early summer. June seemed right when Sands told him. Since learning the date, however, he's come to odds with his look-a-like.
Staring is well and good, and Jack has been nursing a full bottle of rum for a long while.

"Senseless, then, to ask what the two of you have gotten for me, eh?"
He chuckles and lays back on the poolside chair. He misses his own clothing and feels a little out of sorts, still, in jeans and t-shirt. But he won't ask for the garments off of another of his own corpse or a favor from Sands just yet. His gifts planned for Sheldon have been reconsidered.
"I'll go on with awaiting my guests."
By 'guests' he means 'guest' and by 'waiting' he means 'not really expecting to show'.

[shooting_blind]

Sands shrugs. He bought Jack's gifts before they had the fight and brought them. He doesn't expect to be fighting with his friend forever so he might as well give him what he planned to. He is wondering what guests Jack invited.

"Whose coming?"
He's wearing a very ugly prom tux in powder blue.

[not_a_mime]

"I got you something..."
Sam wipes one of the lawn chairs with a rag.

[downwithmyship]

Jack doesn't even understand the shirt he's wearing, but it was the first he found on the floor of those Sands had loaned him. The color does nothing for him.
He also doesn't plan to be fighting with this man forever. They get along too well. Fighting will just end in killing eachother if they keep at it.

"Captain Norrington, most likely. Others are less certain... late notice and all that."
And he's run near dry on friends in the Nexus. He has Bastiaan, Norrington...and maybe Sheldon again someday.

He raises an eyebrow to Sam in interest.
"Did you, lad? Unexpected. I'm sure I can find some means of returning the favor."
He'll give Sam something he finds lying around. It's only fair.

[in_verbatim]

Verbal, being the antisocial tenant that he is, didn't know there was going to be a party. He does, however, happen to notice the small gathering by the pool on his way back from the main part of the Nexus. He also notices the cake.

"Is today somebody's birthday?" he asks the group at large, his voice still low and meek despite the wide-address.

[not_a_mime]

Sam gives Verbal a small smile and waves. He didn't mention his birthday to anyone simply because it's usually celebrated by himself. He didn't think anyone else would care.
"Hi. Do you want some cake? I made it."

Sam has been looking for a reason to dig in.

[in_verbatim]

Verbal's immediate reaction is to spout out some bullshit about being allergic and then head upstairs, but he hasn't really interacted much with the people here. He feels like should at least make an effort.

"Sure." He smiles weakly. "I love coconut. When I was little, I used to eat it right out of the bag. My parents couldn't even watch me, it was that bad. Said they got sick just looking. But happy birthday. How old are you turning?"

[not_a_mime]

Sam likes Verbal's seemingly random stories a lot. Any kind of stories are great and the man has a very melodic voice. Most of the other people here speak to him like a child. He's not only one of the youngest residents but the ones that are still teenagers are also much more... world weary.
He goes to the cake and starts cutting a piece for Verbal and himself. Sam looks at the other two to see if they want any but they seem to be busy with their glaring.

"I'm 25. But I think they're older."
He's certain of it. Especially Jack. Though the pirate probably just looks older because of the weathered skin and facial hair. He hands Verbal the cake on a paper plate and fork.
"We have stuff to drink too. Soda and... other things."
If he steps too close to the alcohol he might be attacked.

[bastic_boy]

Bastiaan is late to the party. He didn't know it was Jack's birthday until today so he was out trying to steal something nice. He knows the captain is depressed about the modern clothes he has to wear so the boy was trying his luck in shops that cater to hippies or costumes. It's too short notice for the internet. He does his best and shows up with a flat white box under his arm.

[downwithmyship]

When he sees the boy approaching, Jack grins. Now he'll have someone here who's happy to celebrate with him. Good.
"Bastiaan! Was afraid you weren't coming, lad!"

He waves Bastiaan over emphatically, pleased with the sight of the box. New things. Maybe it will even make him feel better over the things he's lost.

[bastic_boy]

Bastiaan rushes over and takes a seat close enough to Jack that he's almost in his lap. Ever since Pearl ran off he's tried his best to level out Jack's mood swings and provide him with everything. And while he's still keeping his place after having sex with his Captain, he is developing a deep crush on the man. He's also found out how easy it is to steal with a PINpoint.
Bastian puts the white box in Jack's lap and beams at him.

"I hope you like it, Captain."
Inside is a very expensive shirt that Bastiaan spent over an hour picking out. The material was very important to him. It had to at least feel like the one Jack had. It's cotton and strong but flexible. He didn't find any pants he thought Jack would prefer so he at least got him a pair of boots that are easier to wear with his torn jeans. He chose those for the color and the fact they were higher. He thought Jack would be more comfortable the higher they were. He sits and watches Jack's face carefully, looking to see if he's done well. Under the shirt is also a coat he

[downwithmyship]

The shirt is odd, but all modern clothes seem odd to Jack and he likes the hand-made look of it. The little wings and whatnot stitched sloppily to the back looks nice to him. He slips it on over the t-shirt he's wearing and would now look very natural sleeping on a beach surrounded in his empty bottles

[thecompanymutt]

They're a little late, but when they do show up, the two Murdocs are together. The older of the two carries an a large, black box under one arm. He's rarely seen this close to his younger self, but it's Sands' birthday, so exceptions can be made. Since the festivities are outside and it's gotten rather warm, he wears just black jeans, a wife-beater, and an open over shirt.

He walks over to set the box down beside Sands' chair and crouches there beside the man.
"Sorry we're late. Had to have some last minute discussions ... not to mention having to secure the house pets, so t'speak."
Feeding House and making sure Pearl was locked up well enough are tasks Muds would rather not be bothered with, but he does it for love. At least, that's what he keeps reminding himself.

[murdoc_is_god]

The teenager stands awkwardly beside his elder self, clutching a poorly wrapped gift and an envelope. He wasn't thinking much about birthdays lately and the whole thing sort of slipped his notice until he was reminded. It doesn't mean he won't do his best to make it worth Sands' while.

"Yeah... I don't have good excuses. I just overslept and shit. Sorry, man."

[shooting_blind]

Sands and Jack were still drunkenly comparing scars. The agent has his right shoe off and his pant leg rolled up. The sole of his foot is held a few inches away from Jack's face as he tells the story of a rusted nail, trying to make it much more manly then it was.
Once his guys show up he loses interest in their game. Wonder what they were talking about? It sort of makes him nervous. He kisses Murdoc's cheek and shrugs off the lack of excuse the other one has. If this was a job he'd be reprimanded. But Muds has been training with him long enough that he doesn't have to show up on the dot for personal shit anymore. He will however, use it as an excuse to force him to do his bidding.
"Sorry nothing. Give me presents and some cake or face the firing squad. What are you two plotting behind my back anyway?"

[downwithmyship]

It doesn't help at all that Jack is studying Sheldon's foot very closely, with a mixture of disgust and intrigue. Sniffing it. Contemplating chewing off the uneven corner of one large toenail. His mouth is going for Sands' foot, in fact, when it's pulled from his grasp. Oh well.

He snorts with annoyance when his companion's two lackeys make their appearance. There goes the conversation. Jack lays back in his chair and resumes his regularly scheduled drinking.
"They brought me gifts, it seems. You'll have to do without."

[shooting_blind]

Sands and Murdoc come back. He didn't want to stay away long because the boy dislikes Jack and the pirate seems to be irritated enough. His ruffled shirt is completely unbuttoned under the jacket but th might be because it's warm out.
"Having fun, kids?"

[murdoc_is_god]

"Making friends and influencing people, boss."
The boy lifts his cup in toast to Sands and goes back to drinking. He's bored and has to make his own fun or think too much about what was going on across the pool a minute ago. It's far too easy to imagine, when has a damn good idea of exactly what he would be doing; move for move. Seeing Sands and his husband together just has a way of leaving Muds horny, lonely and confused.

"The foreign kid is bar-tending, if you want somethin."

[shooting_blind]

What I want I can't get from Jack's danish muffin over there. Scoot.
Sands moves Muds over and places himself against him. The head of the lawn chair is lain flat and he pats it for the other one. Sands seems to have a plan here. There's too little room and he has to have the kid almost on top of him but it's all part of his plot.
"I wanna be covered in Murdoc. And I want my tummy rubbed."

He'll be really demanding all day. More then usual.

[downwithmyship]

Jack hisses at Muds quietly from behind Bastiaan. The snide little shit. Where does he get off, exactly? Well..Jack has a notion where the boy gets off, really, and that just seems wrong altogether.

"Your boy has no manners to him at all, Shelly. Wouldn't call me Captain. Sending my cabin boy on errands."
It has every tiny inflection of a small child tattling on another. Jack waves an accusatory finger, for all the good it does him.