[Jack S.] What do you do with a drunken sailor?
Who: Jack Sparrow
Where: Medical Facility, Cafeteria 1
When: Day 20, about noonish
Invited: Everyone in Cafeteria 1
Status: Complete
(OOC - Jack is coming from here.)
Jack reached the cafeteria a lot slower than he expected. The bottle of rum that he'd found had been mostly full when he left the security office, but it was now less than a quarter full. Predictably, he was staggering more than he had in the past few days.
Practically falling into the room cradling the bottle like a baby, Jack headed straight for Isabel. His vision was beginning to blur, but he could still see the vision he'd glimpsed on the monitor.
"Who ish thith?" Jack slurred to the group assembled around Isabel. Hearing himself speak brought a fuzzy thought to his mind. /This is no ordinary rum!/
Sitting suddenly became a priority. Finding a chair he sat down, pondering why he had become so incredibly intoxicated already. Imagine it! Captain Jack Sparrow, falling down drunk from just a few....large....swigs from a modern bottle of rum. He'd never live it down if his mates in Tortuga heard of this.
"This is Isabel, she's recently joined us here on Mindfuck Island," somebody that Jack hadn't met yet responded to his question. "And I see you've managed to find some rum."
"Aye," Jack replied. "But there ish something wrong with it. I once drank fifty bottles of rum before stomin some fool merchant's ship and makin' off with 'er plunder, without nary a stagger or slur. Thish bottle has got me actin like some stuffed shirt lord what never drank in their life!" That was only a slight exaggeration. It had been only 5 bottles, and he and his crew had been badly run off by the privateers they had tried to board. What the man didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
Scanning the crowd, Jack's eyes came to rest on a couple laying on a mattress in the corner. There was something familiar about the female, it seemed as if he knew her from someplace. Staggering to his feet, he moved a little closer.
"Strange place to be bunkin in, ain't it?" Jack asked nobody in particular.
"That's one of the women that was kidnapped," the man with the glasses answered his question again. "She was pretty worn out from her experience, and she just sorta crashed here."
The woman turned over in her sleep, and Jack's breath caught in his throat as he saw her face. "Tia Dalma?" he whispered.
Jack stared, open mouthed at the bottle of rum he'd been cradling. Very deliberately he set it down on a nearby table and backed away from it.
"This stuff ain't rum, it's evil. Or Tia Dalma really is lying over there on that mattress."
Where: Medical Facility, Cafeteria 1
When: Day 20, about noonish
Invited: Everyone in Cafeteria 1
Status: Complete
(OOC - Jack is coming from here.)
Jack reached the cafeteria a lot slower than he expected. The bottle of rum that he'd found had been mostly full when he left the security office, but it was now less than a quarter full. Predictably, he was staggering more than he had in the past few days.
Practically falling into the room cradling the bottle like a baby, Jack headed straight for Isabel. His vision was beginning to blur, but he could still see the vision he'd glimpsed on the monitor.
"Who ish thith?" Jack slurred to the group assembled around Isabel. Hearing himself speak brought a fuzzy thought to his mind. /This is no ordinary rum!/
Sitting suddenly became a priority. Finding a chair he sat down, pondering why he had become so incredibly intoxicated already. Imagine it! Captain Jack Sparrow, falling down drunk from just a few....large....swigs from a modern bottle of rum. He'd never live it down if his mates in Tortuga heard of this.
"This is Isabel, she's recently joined us here on Mindfuck Island," somebody that Jack hadn't met yet responded to his question. "And I see you've managed to find some rum."
"Aye," Jack replied. "But there ish something wrong with it. I once drank fifty bottles of rum before stomin some fool merchant's ship and makin' off with 'er plunder, without nary a stagger or slur. Thish bottle has got me actin like some stuffed shirt lord what never drank in their life!" That was only a slight exaggeration. It had been only 5 bottles, and he and his crew had been badly run off by the privateers they had tried to board. What the man didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
Scanning the crowd, Jack's eyes came to rest on a couple laying on a mattress in the corner. There was something familiar about the female, it seemed as if he knew her from someplace. Staggering to his feet, he moved a little closer.
"Strange place to be bunkin in, ain't it?" Jack asked nobody in particular.
"That's one of the women that was kidnapped," the man with the glasses answered his question again. "She was pretty worn out from her experience, and she just sorta crashed here."
The woman turned over in her sleep, and Jack's breath caught in his throat as he saw her face. "Tia Dalma?" he whispered.
Jack stared, open mouthed at the bottle of rum he'd been cradling. Very deliberately he set it down on a nearby table and backed away from it.
"This stuff ain't rum, it's evil. Or Tia Dalma really is lying over there on that mattress."