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]

Jack takes a walk with Sands when asked because he could use the ally and he needs a friend. He's still pissed, but it hasn't proven to be much worth it. As soon as they're out of ear-shot of Sands' flock, he feels more comfortable speaking.
"Are we to have negotiations, then?"

It's certainly what it feels like. That they'll come to some accord by which murdering Jack Sparrows at random is an acceptable pass-time. Truly, though, he's already forgiven Sheldon internally. He just wants to maintain that anger. He wants to be mad at someone who's there to take that anger.
"You're a madman and a killer. Handsome, yes, but more risk than you're worth, mate."

[shooting_blind]

sands has to adjust the bulge in his pants from the promises made to him and what he's going to get later. But that has to be pushed aside right now because Jack is losing it. Falling away. Sands can't have him going to that dark place the other one was at. Not when he has to lose this man now that seems like the real thing

[downwithmyship]

He scoffs at the idea he needs help with something. He does, but that's beside the point. Sheldon doesn't seem to be concealing a ship, crew, or scroll of charts on his person, so clearly he doesn't have 'help' to provide on this walk.

The pirate listens much more intently when he's handed the compass of ebony, ivory and lapis lazuli. He flips it open to be sure it's his. This...this may very well help. He closes the lid with an audible clack and hears Sands out.
"... Utterly senseless romantic drivel. I'd never have thought you the type for it, mate."

If he knew what it was he needed he could have saved himself a lot of trouble in life...possibly avoided death. His compass hasn't focussed on anything since Death brought him to Sands. What Jack has wanted most, after all, is not to be dead. It lacks a direction to aim for.
He lifts the cover a crack and peeks at the needle again. It swings wildly then stops on Sheldon again. Jack sneers at it and clicks it shut again.

"Destined for each other, then, are we?"

[shooting_blind]

"Ugh."
It's no wonder Jack was murdered. Sands wants to brain the man right here. Romantic drivel? Try the universal truth. But what's the point of trying to explain himself again? He lays it all out and gets mocked for it. No wonder he doesn't open up very often. At least not to people he plans to live more then a day. Best to keep his thoughts to subornates that are afraid to make fun of him.

"What more do you need for proof besides Death handing your broken ass over to me? You have doubts about your role in the universe? Take it up with her. Obviously I'm stepping on your plans to drink and weep over your tragic existence. Just thought as long as I was having such a great time I'd stop to leave my loved ones and try to ring your drunk ass out. I'm not going to sit and hold your hand in the dark. I have a life. When you're ready to get back to yours then you know where to find me. I'll be the meat in the Murdoc sandwich."

[cap_teague]

Teague finds a lounge chair of his own far away from the group and surrounded by plants. He starts strumming at his guitar and waits for the boy to wander over like he always does.

[downwithmyship]

After talking to Sheldon and making up, in so much as they ever bother really making up, Jack's evening has much improved. He crouches at the edge of the pool to test the temperature of the water and nearly goes in face first when the sound of the guitar and the tune being played reach his ears and the familiarity strikes him.
He tenses up. Jack is certainly in no condition to impress the veteran pirate. He's dressed like an idiot, lacks a ship, has a crew of one...and is technically dead. Oh gods...

The man surely knows he's here. No use making a run for it. He makes his way towards the sound.
"Captain." He nods, nearly bowing. "...Hadn't expected you."

[cap_teague]

"Nev'r do, boy."
He keeps playing, not giving Jack his full attention yet. He will in his own time. For now he's much more interested in his tune. It lilts across the pool and seems to act as a backtrack for the soft breeze and everything else around them. The trinkets in his hair play percussion as his head tilts from side to side.
"Whot you don't expect comes ta bite you. Swallow you whole. Swann, Davey Jones, ships shaped like women, Hook."

[downwithmyship]

Jack has seen to some of those complications in his life, and is working towards solving the others. He wants to make immediate argument and talk the circles necessary to place himself on top again. To make himself appear successful. ... But he can't. Not with this man. He can nearly never say the snide things he's thinking the few times he's faced with his father. At least the anger for his childhood has passed. If only the need to please and impress would go with it.

"I prepare for that I can. A man can hardly be prepared for everything, eh?" He's afraid of the answer to that. "I'll have my way back to the living soon enough. Hook's hardly a threat, all things considered. ... Fine clothes and deadly appendage aside."