(Untitled)

[pirate_jack]

As others have noticed, it's been a wet, cold day. And although it may be perfectly typical for Scotland in the approaching winter, it's nothing like the warm rain and salt sea spray of the Caribbean

Comments

[politestpirate]

"And this is only supposed to be autumn-" Wellard's sigh and mutter match Jack's mood close enough, as he takes a seat in one of the nearby armchairs-

"I think I'm rather glad London and Kent were far south of Scotland, really."

[pirate_jack]

"Smart lad," Jack half-growls, without looking away from the fire. "There's no point at all to weather like this."

[politestpirate]

And it had been even nicer in the West Indies, or at least Wellard remembers from the short while he had been there.

Which Jack is more than likely quite thinking of, so no point in mentioning it.

He frowns, looking at the fire.

"Later, if you want, we can look over some lists of what's been done, what needs to be done, and so on. Since we can't be doing it today."

[pirate_jack]

"Sounds like a plan, son."

There's a silence, punctuated by his taking a swallow of rum, before Jack looks at him.

"She's coming along well, aye?"

[creator_raven]

Someone leans over the back of Jack's chair, dark hair dangling to his left.

"It is bears, perhaps? They are irritating things, on occasion."

[pirate_jack]

There's a moment before he moves, and when he does it's to roll his head slightly sideways so he can see her better.

"No bears, luv." A beat. "None I've seen, anyhow."

[creator_raven]

"Likely this is not a bad thing."

Raven turns her head to look back at him, grinning.

"Their fur is a bitch to get off."

[pirate_jack]

"Thought you preferred wearing feathers," he says easily, grinning wickedly back at her.

"Just how many shapes do you have packed away in there?"

[night_hibiscus]

She's walking around the room, looking closely at the walls and structures, when she catches sight of him out of the corner of her eye.

The beard, the braids, the dark skin, the motley layers; the headband and the bottle and the sullen expression. All of it catch her attention, catch her breath, and without bothering to look closer she gasps out: "Sir Jecht?"

[pirate_jack]

It sounds like his name -- spoken with some foreign accent, maybe, but it's enough to catch his attention and that right quickly.

"Don't call me 'sir,'" he says sharply, swinging around to have a look at her. Black eyes gleam with something almost feral-- but with interest, as well.

"It's Captain."

[night_hibiscus]

"Oh!" She looks more closely at him now, and flushes with embarassment.

It's the eyes, most of all; it's hard to tell, painted with kohl as they are, but they aren't like the eyes of the people of Spira or Zanarkand; even the eyes of the Al Bhed have the same basic shape. "My apologies," she says, bowing. Her hands form a circle in the air as she does. "I mistook you for someone else."

[pirate_jack]

The look's much more interested, now.

"Who'd you think I was, luv?" A beat. "Were there wings involved?"

[kurosakiboy]

Ichigo has been around the bar for a good few months now, and has met some interesting characters. So it's not very often that he finds himself staring at those coming and going (or simply sitting) in the bar.

He is staring now. Jack does, after all, have something of a...unique look to him. Quite unique. He's only got one head, two arms, two legs, and all that as far as Ichigo can tell, but he's still a very odd sight.

Also, he looks like a sullen drunk, which should be a common sight in any bar, but seems almost uncommon (to him, anyways) in Milliways. These reasons and more would be why the teenager is sitting near the fire, giving Jack an openly curious, maybe suspicious look.

The flames cast a dancing light over his face and already fiery hair, dark brown eyes reflecting flames that seem at home there. He's a little odd looking himself, this boy, old and experienced inside, young and fierce outside. Not Jack-odd, but odd.

[pirate_jack]

"See something interesting, lad?"

It's said in a low, dangerous voice -- but there's something of humor in it, as well. Jack turns his head suddenly to catch Ichigo's look.

[kurosakiboy]

So he's not lost in his own little world! The boy was wondering if maybe he was one of those drunks. He doesn't actually know how much Jack has drunk, but he sees a man with booze, slouched in a chair. One and one make two. Usually.

"Sort of. You look...weird. Not, like, two heads weird, but more...odd." He's not the greatest with words, Ichigo. No poet, not him. "Are you a bandit or something? You look like a criminal, no offense."

[pirate_jack]

He grins wickedly at the young man.

"None taken, mate. Pirate."

With the hand not holding the rum, Jack gives an odd little half-wave, half elaborate gesture, indicating himself.

"And the name's Sparrow. Captain Jack Sparrow, of the Black Pearl. Now who might you be?"

[aj_crawley]

There's a distinctly slithering quality to Crowley's movements, as he insinuates his way through the crowds towards the fireplace, slinking sullenly into the next closest armchair to the fire.

The change in night temperatures is starting to make itself rather noticeable, even in London - and more so to Crowley than most.

Jack gets a faintly dark look from over the top of Crowley's scarf; the pirate's stolen Crowley's favourite seat.

[pirate_jack]

Jack grins wickedly at him, and holds out the bottle of rum.

"You look about like I feel, mate."

[aj_crawley]

"Bah," he says, accepting the rum and taking a swallow. "I hate autumn."

[pirate_jack]

"Not inclined to disagree with you there," he says darkly. "Never gets cold in the Caribbean."