Janglin' Jack [Greed]

[downwithmyship]

In the middle of this wretched town, down a side street, there's an old wooden two-story pub. Bar on the bottom and humble home on the top, from the looks of it. And on top of that, there's an odd glitter in the light. Little glints shining through the haze and drawing in the zombies. As they come close, loud reports from a shotgun send skull and

Comments

[ai_id]

Walking towards gunfire normally wouldn't seem like the best idea; but, well...this place seems all about moving from one danger to another. If it gets them closer to Getting the Hell Out of Here, Ziggy will go with it.

And besides, having something new to think about shakes him out of dwelling on brainwormed memories. They can't help, and they'll probably hurt. When he's safe, later, he can think about them at leisure.

Hello. An alley full of zombies, and a bar, full of...gunshots.

Much as he dislikes doing it, Ziggy pulls out his own gun.

"Okay. Who wants to go in there and say hello?" His tone of voice says 'Not it.'

[downwithmyship]

"Voices."
"Not the first time, is it mate?"
"Shut up an' bloody listen! Other voices."
"They've come fer yer treasure, Jackie-boy. You going t'let them take it?"

Jack moves to the side of the roof where he heard more than the growls, wails, and droning want of the zombies below. He crouches down at the edge, going to one knee and resting the gun barrel on the edge of the short wall that surrounds the rooftop. He angles the gun down at Ziggy. He's gotten very good at head shots. Very good.
He lines up the sight, pulls back the hammer, but his trigger finger falters. He moves the aim slightly aside and fires a shot at the ground just beside Ziggy's feet.

"Oi! Bugger off, or leave with a great many more holes than you came! Find yer own wealth, you filthy scavengers!"

[lightsthenight]

"This isn't looking like the best way to go." Siri smiles wryly, shimmering and shifting back into half fox form and taking half steps back, looking cautiously around. "At least this one talks."

[notof221b]

Holmes jumped back when he heard - more then saw the warning shot. He stared at the group in mild disbelief. "Don't tell me that we're being threatened by a Bloody Pirate!"

Then again, Holmes thought - perhaps he should have expected a pirate in a place like this.

[constantbastard]

In the shadows at Jack's back is a new light and flicker as Constantine lights a silk cut, regretting the ash and smoke that floats through the air out of his hands. The pockets of his trench coat are stuffed to the brim making is hang awkwardly on him. Only the smoke comes out of the darkness pricking at Jack's hair like an intrusive hungry thing. John's face is lit only by the red red cherry of his cigarette.
"Have all yer ducks in a row, my precious? They've come to siege the castle. Come to give King long hair the boot."

[downwithmyship]

Jack sniffs at the air like a nervous animal and the sound of a voice so close makes the hair on his neck stand on end. How did anything get past his defenses? How did they sneak up on him? He's hardly even slept in days. He's so alert. So careful. How?

"Who's there?"
He turns, aiming his weapon above the glow of the cig and between the reflective wet whites of clever eyes.
"Bugger off, mate, or I'll leave yer head a mess on the floor an feed whot's left t'the starving beauties outside."

[constantbastard]

"My choices then are- walk into them or have my meats strewn out? The second option seems so much less painful. You really don't know how to negotiate."
John taps ash into his hand and then goes about rubbing it into the hem of his coat. His dray finger prints make a rough scratching sound on the material like a scuffling rodent. The coat is dark gray up to his shoulders wish cigarette ash. His hands are black with it.
"Here I thought you wanted conversation. Is that any way to talk to a fellow englishman?"
He picks up an open bottle.
"Do you have a cork for this? I need it you see. It's all getting away from me..."

[downwithmyship]

It's true. Jack is lonely. Maybe if he keeps a close enough eye on the man. If he watches him and doesn't let him take anything. Or just doesn't let him leave. If he keeps John among his things as well, then the man can't possibly rob him. Just move things around. Yes. This is brilliant. This is how it will be.

"Fine then. Stay. But don't bloody touch any..." But there's already a bottle in John's hands. Hell with it.
"Whot d'you need a cork for. Whot is it's getting away from you, mate?"
He looks the man over, curious over the layers of ash covering his coat. Wondering what the man is filching in his pockets..or trying to.