| Welcome aboard, me maties! AG is a Pirates of the Caribbean RPG taking place after Curse of the Black Pearl, and incorporating many of the plots of Dead Man's Chest and At World's End, but is not beholden to follow them exactly, or at all. We welcome both Canon characters and Original Characters, and hope you'll consider joining us for some adventure on the high seas. Sign the Articles! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Ornithology; Gibbs, Scarlett, Giselle | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: 7 May 2008, 08:38 PM (591 Views) | |
| Jack | 7 May 2008, 08:38 PM Post #1 |
You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
  ![]](http://209.85.48.14/static/1/pip_r.png)
|
((This takes place sometime before Jack's capture by Rhett/Beckett and the subsequent mutiny and Dark Day. I don't have a specific time in mind otherwise... If someone else does, just poke me.)) Tortuga was always an interesting place to be, but never more so than when the larger part of one's brain had been left somewhere along the way, all traces of it wiped away by the music, all strings attaching it burnt through with rum, rum, and more rum. The rum was definitely an important ingredient, Jack thought and possibly said when another mug was placed in front of him. He grinned up at the serving wench, licking his lips in anticipation of absolutely everything. Gibbs was there, but he was as much background as anyone else. Jack was in his own little world and working hard on becoming even more so until his world became smaller and smaller, turning into a little dot which, upon shrinking down to nothing, became the whole world, because there was no such thing as a vacuum in Jack's opinion, even if people in Bombay said otherwise. Well, perhaps Jack was not as drunk as all that - not yet. But he wanted to be, tried to be, for once really letting go, which happened far less often than people presumed, but still far more often than was wise. There was no point in being in Tortuga if one didn't truly let go, though, was there? That was the whole point of the place. No officers of navies or armies, most Catholic, Britannic or otherwise - which wasn't to say your neighbour wouldn't try to kill you instead, but, if he did, it wasn't personal. There was no guarding yourself against it either (barring by not beginning a fight, which Jack happened to be very good at), and there was some comfort in that. Not as much comfort as might be had from the wench, of course. Oh, she wasn't as pretty as all that - she'd be in another line of business then, fine though the line between them could be - but she was good enough for some free entertainment. She was also, however, getting on her way again, after a bout of giggles that made her look as dumb as a goat. This was not in accordance with Jack's plan at all. He reached out an arm to hook around her waist and pull her on his lap, but she was already too far, and the best he could do, grabbing desperately at her disappearing form, was to pull at her skirts and get her to turn around again. "Why such a hurry to leave, love? Let people get their own rum for a while... Come sit with me." "There's no chair," the lass replied dumbly. She walked straight into that one. Unphased by her incredible stupidity, Jack looked around as if to confirm that claim. It was busy, and the only chairs not occupied lay broken on the floor - as he had expected. "Well, in that case..." Jack patted his lap, his faux-innocent smile clashing horribly with his lustful eyes. The girl giggled again, sounding like a chicken. Jack was tempted to try to find similarities with all other farm animals as well - he was sure he could do it - but brushed off the idea as being counterproductive. If she giggled much more, she'd turn him off all by herself; there was really no need to help. The girl approached shyly, with a hesitation that Jack concluded, to his surprise, to be real. This considerably augmented his interest; there was nothing like spreading a little corruption. Excitement as she lowered herself into his lap, almost sitting down - and then there was a loud cry from the direction of the bar, indistinct but clearly more than understandable to the wench. She jumped as if stung, Jack having done no stinging yet whatsoever, and all but ran back, in so much as the crowd wasn't in her way. Not good. Disappointed, Jack pouted at Gibbs, half-glaring at the man simply for being a witness. "Do they call that service?" |
 |
 
|
| Old Gibbs | 9 May 2008, 06:12 AM Post #2 |
First Mate
|
Gibbs had already chugged down his first two mugs of rum after having to nurse the dwindling supply on the Pearl just before they returned to Tortuga. He was just beginning to feel like his old self again, so anything after this was all in fun, and he planned to have plenty of it. His eyes grew wide as a young wench came and placed a third one down in front of him. She smiled at him as she did so and gave him a little wink. Gibbs was well aware that these little flirtations were all just part of her job, but he couldn't help but to get a little hopeful over it. "Aye, with a smile like that, Lassy, I'll bet all the fellers be linin' up at the door just t' get a seat at yer table." She let out a little giggle and said, "Why, thank ye, kind sir. Aren't you just the sweetest thing? Remind me of me dear grandpappy, you do." The smile fell away from Gibbs' face immediately. That wasn't how it was supposed to turn out at all. Fortunately, she had turned around to set the other mug in front of Jack before she had a chance to see Gibbs' dissappointment. And even more fortunately, Jack didn't seem to be aware of what had happened. He'd never let him live it down. But what was Gibbs worried about, anyways? She was only a wench who was all but trained to avoid the advances of lonely sailors like himself. What else could he expect? He watched Jack's flirtations with the girl, expecting him to get a similar reaction. (Except the "grandpappy" part. Honestly, did he look that old?) But as their exchange continued, Gibbs was becoming truly annoyed, even rolling his eyes as Jack looked for a chair that obviously wasn't there. How could she fall for something like that? This one must still be wet behind the ears. It was the only explanation. Any seasoned tavern wench would have been long gone by now to serve another table. When the wench was suddenly called away, Gibbs couldn't help but to gain a little satisfaction from it. He raised his eyebrows when Jack glared at him. Afterall, it wasn't his fault Jack couldn't keep her there. Maybe he was losing his touch as well. Gibbs took a drink from his mug. "Do they call that service?" After setting his mug down again, he leaned back comfortably in his seat and pretended to seriously consider that for a moment. Then he said, "Oh, I don't know, Jack. I think she was takin' up t' me a bit. If it weren't such a busy night, I mighta had her for the price o' three mugs o' rum an' a smile. It was you she was playin' shy aroun'. Seems most women just ain't after what you're offerin', 'less yer offerin' some coin t' go with it." |
|
|
|
| Jack | 10 May 2008, 10:41 PM Post #3 |
|
You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
|
((Grrr, iffy post below. I blame it on Jack being drunk. He also seems intent on kind of copying Gibbs' behaviour for some reason. I don't know...)) It hadn't even been a plea for sympathy as such; Jack knew better than to expect anything like that. But was it really too much to ask to not be insulted? Apparently it was. And by Gibbs, of all people! The man's main virtue (apart from his loyalty, but Jack had never dared to assume that there was more than stupidity and a clinging to the status quo at the base of that) was that he was not threatening in any way. Which meant that he was expected to keep his mouth shut. The silly superstitions were one thing - everyone had his weaknesses - but to insult Jack's inherent attractiveness was to insult his legend, and to insult his legend was to insult his raison d'être. Not to mention that it was just plain ridiculous that Gibbs was suggesting he wasn't attractive. The man was old and tubby and hairy in all the wrong places, for rum's sake - what right did he have to comment? "Seems most women just ain't after what you're offerin', 'less yer offerin' some coin t' go with it." "And I suppose you get everything you want for free, is that it? Could you explain, in that case, how it is that you're generally found sleeping among the pigs after a night on the town, and not in the arms of a lovely lady, paid for or otherwise? One would almost conclude that women ain't after what you're offering, even when you do offer coin." It was a bit harsh, and the latter bit was almost certainly untrue - few women here would reject anyone's money, and as likely as not Gibbs simply spent everything he had on rum before finding a wench - but Gibbs had asked for it. Satisfied, Jack took a swig of his rum. "Nothing personal, mate, but given a choice between you and me, women will always pick me. I'm all but irresistable to them. It's a blessing... and a curse." |
|
|
|
| Old Gibbs | 13 May 2008, 02:29 AM Post #4 |
|
First Mate
|
((It was fine. It had me laughing.)) "And I suppose you get everything you want for free, is that it? Could you explain, in that case, how it is that you're generally found sleeping among the pigs after a night on the town, and not in the arms of a lovely lady, paid for or otherwise? One would almost conclude that women ain't after what you're offering, even when you do offer coin." Gibbs sat back and listened to Jack, feeling a little smug with the idea that he was able to get his goat (so to speak). He found it was a little easier to do when the man was genuinely drunk, and right now Jack seemed to be crossing over that line. As Jack rambled on about him not being able to find a woman, Gibbs had only to think of dear Eunice who worked at the tavern down the road. Jack had no idea that when he took off for the night with one or two of these lovely young pigeons here, Gibbs often went to see her. Eunice had been in the business for more than twenty years, and Gibbs had been a regular customer for almost as long. You could bet that with that kind of experience, she had learned a thing or two about how to please a man. And yes, sometimes he did get it for free when business was slow. Most men, particularly the younger ones, didn't realize what a diamond in the rough that woman was. Without him realizing it, a smile spread across his face over his little secret. "Nothing personal, mate, but given a choice between you and me, women will always pick me. I'm all but irresistable to them. It's a blessing... and a curse." Gibbs let out a chuckle. "Aye, a curse," he said, not agreeing with him but scoffing. "I'll hand it to y' Jack, you may have a pretty face, er...least that's what the ladies seem to say. But that's not all they're lookin' fer. Let's face it, any man with enough coins in his pockets can have one of 'em fer a night, but if yer wantin' t' win 'em over, really win 'em over, takes a little more finesse. They wanna feel...," he gestured a bit with his hands as he tried to come up with the right word, "special. Nothin' personal t' you, Cap'n, but I don't think yer all that skilled when it comes t' that sort o' thing." He took another long draw from his mug, nearly finishing it off already. Now it was starting to kick in, and he was beginning to feel a little more emboldened with his brutal honesty. |
|
|
|
| Jack | 15 May 2008, 07:39 PM Post #5 |
|
You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
|
((Gibbs might get a barmaid, but he'll never get Jack's goat! :P)) Jack's eyebrows slowly sank lower and lower until the look he gave Gibbs was as close to angry as Jack ever got. He only got girls because of his pretty face? He had never even thought of himself as a pretty face. Oh, he was attractive, of course. He was one big magnet, the center of the world, and whoever he aimed at would most likely do his bidding. But his looks played only a little part of that. His charm was probably most important - natural charm backed up with intelligence to tell him what to do and say to get something from someone. The Captain Jack persona was more of a means to an end than the magnet itself; a comfortable mask to hide behind. That was also why Jack could still own his attractiveness; he wasn't really acting like someone else, so all his achievements were his own. (His failures - well... The less said about those the better.) "Believe me, I know how to make a woman feel special. Several times over, if need be." It really bothered Jack that Gibbs actually seemed to be amused by this discussion. How could anyone doubt that women were attracted to Jack? It was not unheard of that he walked off with more than one woman - though it was true that the spares tended to be paid off somewhere along the way; Jack wasn't generally what one might consider rich. That was another thing: how could Gibbs blame Jack's attractiveness on money, when Jack usually had no more money than Gibbs himself? Jack was about to provide the above information as definitive proof that Gibbs was very, very wrong - something about apples and oranges seemed to be a logical follow-up - when he saw a familiar figure enter the tavern. His bad mood immediately evaporated, and he smirked. This was much better. He should have known better than to try reason and logic on Gibbs. Firsthand testimony should do the trick, though. "Very well, if you don't want to take my word for it... OY!" Jack shouted at the entrance, then whistled with his fingers. Not very dignified, perhaps, but there was not a snowball's chance in the deepest circle of hell to make oneself heard over that distance otherwise. Once spotted, he grinned winsomely and beckoned the woman to approach. Yes, this would settle things once and for all. |
|
|
|
| Deleted User | 20 May 2008, 03:37 AM Post #6 |
|
Deleted User
|
Scarlett entered the tavern for the evening almost fully prepared for a night of, well, 'work.' She walked with an added sway in her hips that might look overdone to anyone sober, and she gave her firey curls a final fluff. All that was needed was a bit of rum to calm her, but she was a bit low on coin, so she thought that it might be best to do without for now. She began to slowly and carefully scan the lot of prospective clients, and nothing stood out as usual. It was the same crowd of the perpetually drunk and unwashed, though nothing she couldn't handle. Scarlett's ears perked up at the sound of a rather loud (and familiar) male voice. She instinctively turned toward it, though she could not be certain that she was the one he addressed. Her expression instantly turned sour when she saw who exactly it was that called, and she dropped her seductive act. Scarlett briefly entertained the idea of simply ignoring him and going about on her business, but something about that man stirred up a good bit of rage within her. It was impossible not to give in to the urge to walk over and put him in his place. She took a slow, deep breath before walking over with short, quick strides. Well, there he was again: Jack Sparrow, the stupid, arrogant, lousy excuse for a pirate. Scarlett told herself that whatever it was he wanted, she would not be the one to give it to him. She placed her hands firmly on her hips while she spoke. "You've got some nerve to call me over here, Jack." Scarlett paid no attention to the other man. |
|
|
|
| Old Gibbs | 23 May 2008, 04:26 AM Post #7 |
|
First Mate
|
The look on Jack's face would have made Gibbs very nervous if they had been talking business, but in this context, he had nothing to worry about. He leisurely finished his mug of rum while Jack defended his legend. "Believe me, I know how to make a woman feel special. Several times over, if need be." Gibbs almost laughed out loud, but managed to control himself. "Is that so? Seems t' me I've heard otherwise, but maybe they be talkin' about some other Jack." Out of habit, he raised his mug back up to his lips but remembered at the last moment that it was empty. "Very well, if you don't want to take my word for it... OY!" Gibbs had a fleeting hope that Jack was calling for more rum, but then he looked up and saw who was approaching. He turned to Jack and raised an eyebrow. If he was wanting to prove what a lady's man he was, Gibbs doubted this one here was going to help him do that. And the look on her face only helped to confirm it. Yeah, Gibbs had this one in the bag. "You've got some nerve to call me over here, Jack." This was going to be good. Gibbs needed more rum to properly enjoy it, and he motioned for another nearby tavern wench to bring him some. He couldn't be certain if it was the same one who had come earlier. He had already forgotten what she looked like. But it hardly mattered now. She would be good enough for bringing the rum. This other one, Scarlett if he recalled, was the one he was after to prove his worth. |
|
|
|
| Jack | 23 May 2008, 07:54 PM Post #8 |
|
You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
|
"Is that so? Seems t' me I've heard otherwise, but maybe they be talkin' about some other Jack." "It's a common name," Jack said coolly. He had felt almost petty before (what, him, petty?), but that did it. He would enjoy proving to Gibbs in whatever way he could that the ladies fancied Jack a lot more than they fancied Gibbs. It was ridiculous for Gibbs to even question this, but if he wanted proof, he would get it. He could go crying to the pigs afterward. Scarlett's appearance seemed like a gift from heaven, or whatever place conjured up saucy wenches. Arguably, Jack should have been worried far sooner than he was, but he had become used to Scarlett's aggressive little walk, seeing it as nothing out of the ordinary. Even when she put her hands on her hips, there was barely a shadow of a worry in Jack's mind. Her words, then, were an unpleasant surprise, the tone of which made Jack's teeth stand on edge. His smile slowly froze, and then his lips twisted briefly. However, he made a swift recovery, halted only slightly by his attempts to recollect his last encounter with Scarlett. If he knew what he had done, it would be easy enough to explain everything, but what he remembered was all good - good for him, so he supposed that meant little to nothing. "I know, darling, I know..." Jack said, dramatically casting his eyes down to show how horrible he felt about whatever it was he had apparently done. "Let me make it up to you." At this point, Jack noticed that Gibbs had called over some serving wench, and used the opportunity gladly. Being very careful not to look at the wench in question (things like flirting could be a very dangerous instinct, no matter how inevitable), Jack said to her: "Rum for the lady." Turning to Scarlett again, he asked: "Unless you prefer something fancier?" Scarlett usually drank rum, but it was usually all Jack offered. Now, however, he was showing how wonderful and caring he could be, preferably without overdoing it. Hopefully it would not set a dangerous precedent. |
|
|
|
| Deleted User | 4 Jun 2008, 03:32 AM Post #9 |
|
Deleted User
|
Darling. He called her darling. Scarlett was not exactly fond of silly pet names, and only tolerated them when there was a clear possibility of turning a profit. Hearing one from someone she despised felt slightly insulting. For a fleeting moment the expression on her face soured, only to soften again once Jack offered to buy rum for her. A free drink was, after all, a free drink regardless of who it came from. "Rum will be fine," she answered; her voice was still harsh and her stance was still defensive. Eager as she was to accept his offer, she was still suspicious of his intentions. What was he trying to do, anyway? Trying to get on her good side to earn himself a night of pleasure? It was far from something she would fall for, but Scarlett was not above playing along if she benefited from it. Scarlett involuntarily turned her attention to Jack's companion, the one she saw as the lesser of two evils. Though, to be honest, she did not know the man well enough to accurately judge the extent of his evil. She certainly recognized him, but she could not recall a name or any real interaction. Whoever he was--and however evil he might be--at least he was somebody other than Jack. "You trying to keep him in line?" she asked the other man. "If you are, good luck. You might need it." |
|
|
|
| Old Gibbs | 6 Jun 2008, 03:53 AM Post #10 |
|
First Mate
|
As soon as the wench approached the table, Jack jumped in and ordered first. "Rum for the lady." Turning to Scarlett again, he asked: "Unless you prefer something fancier?" Well, score one for him, but that was alright. Gibbs would just have to make up for it somewhere else. Meanwhile, so as not to give Jack the impression that he had anything to be concerned about, (and also for his personal gain) he decided to play along. "Aye, so yer treatin' us to a round o' drinks tonight, are y'? That's mighty good o' you, Jack." He turned to the wench, "Add another mug t' that, will y'?" Of course, Jack could object, but then it made him look cheap. Whether he paid for the rum or not, Gibbs won. "You trying to keep him in line?" she asked the other man. "If you are, good luck. You might need it." "Oh, aye," he said nodding. "Not an easy task lookin' out for a captain like this one. Keeps a man on his toes." That was when Gibbs remembered that there weren't any extra chairs, and Scarlett was still standing at the table. He jumped up from his chair. "Excuse me Miss, Scarlett is it? Where are m' manners. Have my seat, will y'? I won't see a lady lovely as you standin' on her feet." He pulled out his chair a little further so he could slide it under her when she was ready. "M' names Joshamee Gibbs, by the way. First mate of the Black Pearl." When he thought Scarlett wasn't looking, he turned to Jack and gave him a little bit of a smirk. |
|
|
|
| Jack | 9 Jun 2008, 07:38 PM Post #11 |
|
You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
|
"Rum will be fine." There, that was a start. Jack smirked to himself. He would satisfy Scarlett - the notoriously temperamental Scarlett - and then Gibbs would hear where he stood in the picking order, straight from the horse's mouth. Oh, bugger... Jack smiled nervously at Scarlett. Please let her not find out that he had compared her to a horse... All right, so maybe the battle wasn't won yet - but Gibbs would never succeed where Jack had failed. It was biologically improbable - aesthetically impossible - socially unthinkable. And yet it was happening right before Jack's eyes. The free rum was a cheap trick, and Jack let Gibbs know with the very smallest of small smiles just how much it was appreciated. It was no great loss, though; Jack would simply take it out of Gibbs' share on their next venture, generously charging the whole round on him if he would keep this up. The little joke between Scarlett and him - simply hilarious - that Jack was difficult, was likewise ignored easily enough. Finally, it was Jack's turn. Now he would - "Excuse me Miss, Scarlett is it? Where are m' manners. Have my seat, will y'? I won't see a lady lovely as you standin' on her feet." He had not just done that... Gibbs smirked at Jack. Oh yes, he had. Jack fumed. How dare Gibbs be so.... so polite? He had no right - and Jack had just been about to repeat his come-sit-on-my-lap line as well. That was such a good line. "M' names Joshamee Gibbs, by the way. First mate of the Black Pearl." "I'm the Captain!" protested Jack, his voice a little higher than he would have liked. He couldn't believe that Gibbs would use Jack's ship to try to make himself look good. That was like stealing - in a bad way! With difficulty, Jack managed to regain some control of his senses and calm down. Scarlett knew better than to fall for the old gentleman routine, surely? Of course she did. And even if she didn't, Jack still had some tricks up his sleeve. "You know you're too good for him, love," he said, looking at Scarlett and pointedly ignoring Gibbs, though he reluctantly acknowledged by his words that he was competition - if he could be called that. "Why settle for little more than a deckhand when you can have the illustrious captain of the ship himself?" Leaning a little closer (that was one good thing to come of all this; Gibbs was no longer sitting at their table), he said a little more softly: "He wasn't lying about not letting women stand on their feet. He's mindnumbingly conventional in his ways.... savvy?" Eyes locked with hers, Jack raised his eyebrows a millimeter or two, allowing a small pause for his meaning to sink in. "I'm sure a woman of the world such as yourself prefers something a little more... creative." |
|
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Tavern & Pubs · Next Topic » |
4:02 AM Jul 30
