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Private Investigations; open
Topic Started: 17 Sep 2008, 11:35 PM (282 Views)
Jack
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You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
[ * ]
((Right - this is totally random, and horrible not very good, but my Jackmuse was sick and tired of being ignored and threatened to leave if I didn't give him some attention. I told him something bad was worse than nothing, but he disagreed. So here we are.))

There were times for thinking, and there were times when thinking was best left to the discretion of others. Granted, there was a good chance that no thinking would happen at all under those circumstances, but that could hardly be considered Jack's fault, could it? He couldn't be expected to do nothing but think all day and all night. That wouldn't do anybody any good. And yet...

Although Jack would never admit it, there were aspects to getting the Pearl back that had been... less than welcome. All it took was one crewmember with a mind of his own, and the whole crew was doing annoying, most unnecessary things, like asking questions, and wanting to know what the next venture was. Had they not recently returned from a most profitable venture? Well, all right... 'Most' might be a trifle exaggerated. But they were back in Tortuga with a little money to spend, and anyone asking question about the suchlike in this day and age needed to get his head examined. Sadly, not everyone had come to terms with the status quo - and, worse, neither had Jack. East India Company or not, Davy Jones or not, there had to be something grand out there, just waiting to be pilfered or otherwise possessed, preferably in some spectacular way. Maybe it was Jack's fault that he wasn't finding it - after all, who else's fault could it be? But there came a time, as previously stated, when one had to step back and let things run their course for a while. It was just like when you were desperately trying to remember something, and could only remember it if you stopped thinking about it. And Tortuga happened to be an excellent place to stop thinking about things.

For personal reasons the Faithful Bride was best avoided for a little while, and so it was that Jack took a long way around that tavern while trying to find another. Not that this was difficult - the town was teeming with similar establishments - but there was the matter of making a choice. Not having decided beforehand gave the trip into a town Jack was intimately familiar with an unusual sort of freshness, which soon allowed him to get his mind off the worldy worries and onto the worldly pleasures. Turning a corner, Jack found the street remarkably empty - so empty, in fact, that for a moment he was almost suspicious. There was a drunk sleeping it off against a wall, though, and from inside a large building further down came music that was almost civilised - not Jack's usual preference, but it was intriguing to find something like that in a place like this. After taking another look around, still seeing nothing of note, Jack headed to the building to investigate.
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Joshamee Gibbs
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First Mate
[ * ]
It was difficult work sometimes getting away from Jack when they went ashore, particularly in Tortuga. As his first mate, he almost felt obligated to follow him into town for a drink or two. It usually wasn't a bad thing. Gibbs enjoyed spending time with a good friend, and it rarely lasted more than a couple of hours anyways. Before long, Jack would be distracted with the ladies, and Gibbs could then slip away quietly. But there were some days he didn't want to wait that long. On those days, Gibbs had to make up some excuse to stay aboard the ship. Usually something about "loose ends" that needed to be tied up. Since Jack was always more than willing to allow Gibbs to handle those things, he usually left him there with the vague promise to see him later.

But this was one of the luckier nights. Jack seemed to want to be alone. He had left without the usual invitation to follow along, leaving Gibbs with no need to make excuses. As soon as his captain was out of sight, he went to his gunny sack, switched shirts to one that had a chance to air out a bit, straightened his hair in a broken looking-glass that hung below deck, and headed toward the Wishing Well, where his darling Eunice would be there for him. It wasn't that he didn't want Jack to join him there. It was just that, well, Eunice wasn't really Jack's type, as far as he could judge by the women he hired, and he wasn't really sure what Jack would think of his special lady. She was sort of his little secret.

He arrived at the place to find that it wasn't very busy, but at this time of the evening that wasn't unusual, especially since this establishment was slightly off the beaten path. He was pleased to find his favorite girl washing mugs behind the bar and not too busy with customers to pay a little special attention to him. She was a thick-figured, middle-aged woman, somewhere in her forties, with sparkling strands of silver woven though her chestnut hair. Even when she was expressionless, as she was now while doing her chores, she still carried a jovial disposition. "There's my lass!" Gibbs called out as he approached the bar with his arms out as though he would embrace her.

Eunice stopped what she was doing and turned around. "Joshy! It's been too long, love! Come and have a seat and I'll get you some rum." As Gibbs sat down at the bar, she leaned over and gave him a chaste little kiss on the cheek. After all the two of them had done together, Gibbs still couldn't keep himself from blushing a bit. "You'll have to tell me all about your time at sea," she said as she poured the rum. "And that daft captain of yours." She laughed a bit as she said this. She knew how much Jack Sparrow meant to Gibbs as a friend, but some of his stories about him were hilarious. And all of them were exciting.

"Aye, I've got some tales fer y', all right," he said and licked his lips as Eunice placed the mug of rum in front of him. He took a large swig and sat it back down on the bar. Eunice was standing there with her hand out and a wink in her eye, so Gibbs reached in his pocket and pulled out some coins for her. They spent the next several minutes catching up, until someone came through the door and distracted them.
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Max Glee
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Deduceer
[ * ]
Phantom elephants trampled his head, bellowing and honking and stamping about in the soft sand of his aching brain-box. He had been hung over before, but he could usually sleep it off. Not this time. Today, Max Glee, deduceer of Tortuga, felt absolutely rotten. Hoping the manager of the Wishing Well was out that day, he slowly rolled himself out of his hammock and landed with a dull thud on the wooden floor. Max grunted and snorted to clear his sinuses and started to get up. Once he was up on all fours, he contemplated making a base camp and finishing the job later. Alas, if one of the staff came in to find him, he would not have much choice, and a momentary loss of direction was better than a boot up his backside. Max forced himself over to the spit bucket in the corner and gobbed out the lump of sickly bile clinging to the back of his throat. Whatever he had been drinking, it must have been some damn nasty stuff.

It was only as he began washing the thickest layers of dirt from his body that the events of the previous night came back to him. He had gone out on a case, well, not much of a case, it just a simple act of settling an argument. Much like that time when he first came to the port town, filthy, starving and forgotten, and as such the pay had been lousy. For a second, he thought that perhaps he should have charged more. Bloody cheapskates, the money he received for his services was probably lifted from some other poor bum anyway. Parched, he had wandered into another tavern, where he became engaged in a drinking game with another patron and slept most of the night in an empty shack. Some miracle had led him home in the early hours of the morning and he had promptly collapsed. He pulled his clothes on, though it took three attempts to get his right arm through the sleeve, and a couple more to button up his jerkin properly. Slipping his boots on, and placing his pistol and cosh in their respective holsters, he opened the door and ventured down the stairs.

Still clearing the cobwebs out of his skull, Max walked through the staff door into the wide expanse of the tavern. Since the door opened into the space behind the counter, the first thing he saw was old Eunice talking to her mutton-chopped boyfriend. He was good with names, usually, the chap’s name was…Gibson? Giblet? Something like that. Damn that brown haze covering his brain. Preferring not to get caught and receive a telling off for being late, Max crept out and got on with just waiting tables…or he would have anyway, had he not found himself tripping over his own boots and landing face down on the floor.
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Jack
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You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
[ * ]
((Giblet! That's so cute. *smirks*))

When Jack stepped inside, the interior of the tavern proved as odd yet uneventful as the outside. Was this place really as dead as it seemed? Jack had been looking for something different, but... Maybe this had been a mistake. Be that as it may, Jack was here now, and there at least should be rum to be had; if the rum was as disappointing as the rest of the tavern, he could always leave then. Jack's eyes wandered to the bar, and saw...

"Gibbs?"

Jack frowned, not understanding. Wasn't Gibbs supposed to be doing something useful? Instead, it seemed like he had gone here to drink. But why here? Surely if all he had wanted was some rum... It didn't make sense. The person behind the bar didn't even register in Jack's mind; he or she was only a vague outline of a person, so much window dressing without the decorative benefits.

Rather than waiting for an explanation, Jack was about to address the issue in more detail, but he was distracted by the dull thud of a body hitting the floor. Anticipating a fight, Jack's head whipped around to search the source of the sound, trying to find out if a change of position would be to his tactical advantage, but all he saw was a man lying face-down on the floor. Jack cocked his head as if to get a better view, eyes narrowing slowly. Was there something familiar about the seemingly drunken man, or had Jack simply seen too many men lying like that in too many Tortugan taverns? Well, if he couldn't remember who the man was, it probably wasn't important. Which lead him back to the little matter of Gibbs' strange antics.

Walking on to the bar, Jack took a seat next to Gibbs. "Rum," he told the woman behind the bar before looking at her and adding: "My friend here is buying." Jack wasn't sure he even wanted to hear Gibb's reason for sneaking out like he had, but the least the man could do to make amends was to buy Jack a drink or two.
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Joshamee Gibbs
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First Mate
[ * ]
((Are you implying that he's part of a turkey?))

As soon as Gibbs saw Jack coming through the door, he had the urge to hide his face, but he knew that wouldn't do any good. Even if the place had been more busy, he could have at least hoped to blend in with the crowd unnoticed, but there was no crowd. Only a handful of people sitting quietly at tables with their drinks. If Gibbs did anything other than act normal, it would only give Jack the impression that he was up to no good. So he decided to play it off by sitting back and taking another drink of his rum.

"Gibbs?"

"Jack!" he said, trying to sound like he was happy to see him. "What brings y' all the way over here?" But before Jack had an opportunity to answer that, something hit the floor and caught his attention. It was Max, one of the tavern workers who Gibbs had seen before but never got to know very well, since his attention was always on Eunice when he came.

"You okay over there, kid?" Eunice asked. "When you're done crawling around on the floor, I need you to sweep up the place. I noticed you didn't get it done last night like you were supposed to."

"Rum," he told the woman behind the bar before looking at her and adding: "My friend here is buying."

A brief moment of panic ran through Gibbs as he wondered if he would have enough money for both his rum and Jack's, and still have some left for a night with Eunice. But he couldn't very well say anything about it and let Jack figure out his reason for being there. He looked up at Eunice, whose attention was now turned to her newest patron, and said reluctantly, "Aye, I'll pay fer it."

Eunice laughed, "So, this is Captain Jack Sparrow? I almost feel like I know you. Drink's on me, Captain. Max, come over here and pour this man some rum, the good stuff."

Gibbs rubbed his hands over his face for a moment. Jack was sure to want to find out how she knew him. Gibbs's secret was well on its way to being exposed. Of all the taverns in Tortuga, Jack had to choose this one. Before he could stop himself, he asked Jack, "Aren't y' supposed t' be at the Faithful Bride?"
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Max Glee
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Deduceer
[ * ]
“You okay over there, kid?” Eunice asked. “When you're done crawling around on the floor, I need you to sweep up the place. I noticed you didn't get it done last night like you were supposed to.”

Max lifted his head up and spat out a mouthful of dust. He watched the particles dance down towards the wooden floor and become still, before gathering his senses and getting back up on his feet. He was about to walk through the door to get the broom when he heard a voice he recognised. One he should have been surprised and appalled to here, but really, this was not the case. He bared no ill will toward Captain Jack Sparrow, there was no point. What’s done was done, and to be quite frank, it was hardly a crime, just an unfortunate mistake, one that led Max Glee into a life he was comfortable with. As the head of the broom met the floor…

Eunice laughed, “So, this is Captain Jack Sparrow? I almost feel like I know you. Drink’s on me, Captain. Max, come over here and pour this man some rum, the good stuff.”

“Make up your bleeding mind, woman,” Max grumbled. He set the broom down against the side of the counter and went round to where the drinks were kept. He poured them, and nodded briefly to the customers.

“Nice to see you again, Mr Sparrow, Mr Gibbs,” he said tonelessly, and plonked their glasses unceremoniously in front of them before returning to the broom to get on with the sweeping. In the time he had looked at their faces, Max had deduced that neither man had intended to drink together this day. This was Gibbs’ favourite spot because it was private, to a degree, and he could be with his Eunice, even pirates needed time away from work, he supposed. What puzzled him was why Jack, whom he knew preferred the more lively attractions Tortuga had to offer, was here in mayhap the only spot in all the town that could be called civilised. He kept a wary eye on them, looking for anything that might give them away, to satisfy his own curiosity.
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Jack
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You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
[ * ]
Max? The man's name didn't seem familiar, and since he was such a clumsy specimen, Jack figured that, even if he did know this Max, he didn't have to worry about it right now. Gibbs had already got some ill-deserved distraction; no more.

"So, this is Captain Jack Sparrow? I almost feel like I know you. Drink's on me, Captain."

Normally Jack would have been flattered to some degree, but the bar wench's preceding laughter confused him a little. Still, whatever the reason for that, a free drink was a free drink, and he was not complaining. Gibbs would just have to buy the next round. "Thank you," he smiled.

"Aren't y' supposed t' be at the Faithful Bride?"

"I thought I might try a change of venue," Jack said, looking around as if he was appreciating this new and interesting location. He could only keep up the act for so long before his eyes fell a little. This place was more boring than several taverns Jack had been to in civilized ports. What could Gibbs possibly be seeing in this place? "One might also ask whether you are not supposed to be aboard the Pearl, taking care of some work what needs doing." That was the issue here: Gibbs had lied. Jack knew better than to expect complete honesty at all times, but there had to be a reason why Gibbs was lying, and not knowing it bothered Jack a great deal.

“Nice to see you again, Mr Sparrow, Mr Gibbs.”

Captain, thought Jack, snatching the rum from the bar while he glared at Max's retreating form. That thought triggered something - the man had been in his crew, hadn't he? Yes, that was it. Jack couldn't remember when - it must have been ages ago, or for a very short time, the memory being this vague - but he had the biggest piece of the puzzle, and was satisfied. But there was still that other matter causing his curiosity to pester him.

"Why are you here?" he asked Gibbs in low tones, no longer hiding his lack of approval of the establishment as he glanced around.
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Joshamee Gibbs
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First Mate
[ * ]
((Sorry it took so long. And also for the crap post.))

Gibbs appreciated a free drink as much as anyone, and gulped down what was left of his old one before starting on the next. He wiped his hand on his sleeve while Jack asked him why he was there as though he had no right to be.

"I finished up on the Pearl, so I thought I might come here fer a drink, where it's more...," he shrugged, "private." Although that was certainly no longer the case.

Eunice leaned on the bar and gave Gibbs a wink. Gibbs glared at her subtly. He had never explicitely told her that she was some secret he was hiding from his captain, but he hoped now she would get the hint. Although, if she ever found out why she was a secret, it would probably break her heart. He was in an awfully sticky situation at the moment and wasn't quite sure how to get out of it.

Eunice saw his expression and raised an eyebrow at him. She didn't get it. "He comes here to see me. I take care of him," she said and tapped him playfully on the end of his nose.

Gibbs could only hope that Jack would assume she was "taking care of him" like any other whore would. "Aye, she certainly knows her business. She runs a tight ship here with the other girls." He looked around to see where the other girls were, but they were nowhere around. There were only two of them, and they were probably busy upstairs with customers. He was getting a little nervous.

Eunice looked at him even more strangely. "Right, the other girls," she said, but it was clear that she was trying to figure out what he was on about, since she was the only girl he had been with there in years. After studying him for a quick moment, she turned to Jack, "So, what do you think of our place, Captain?"
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Max Glee
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Deduceer
[ * ]
“Right, ‘take care of him,’” Max chuckled to himself. It was such a pleasant euphemism, because it made their vices sound much more sugary-sweet, nice and friendly-like. He soon found himself losing interest and wandered off across the room, where he caught sight of a young woman sitting alone and looking quite lost.

“Hmm…”

Setting the broom aside once more, Max walked up to her side. She was pretty, not beautiful, but well-kept. Her dark hair was pulled up in a bun, she wore a brown cloak over a green dress, and she had a black love-heart mark on her cheek. Former aristocracy?

“You look troubled, Miss,” he said, “can I be of assistance?”

The woman looked up at him and asked, “Are you Max Glee the deduceer?”

“The one and only, Miss,” he smiled, “and if you’re looking for me, then you are obviously in some sort of trouble. May I sit?”

“You may.”

Max took the seat opposite her and leaned forward across the table so they could talk in lowered voices. “Perhaps you could start with your name, and then maybe the details of your distress?”

The woman eyed him. Her voice was naturally soft, like a whisper, and raspy from shouting.

“Helena. Helena Lovett.”
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Kate Cullen
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Landlubber
[ * ]
Normally, Kate’s time at this point of the night was firmly divided between mediating upstairs and working her own tavern floor. But this evening was slow; two girls were firmly installed with all nighters and for the first time in a fair few weeks there really was little to do. When she had these rare moments to herself, drinking in her own tavern just felt too much like work, and the familiarity of an older, quieter haunt was often a comfort. So she strode into the Wishing Well relishing the more peaceful atmosphere, though not without an irritated little tut as she nearly tripped over a broom leaning against the counter. And despite her lazy intentions, she couldn’t resist giving the room the quickest of scans as she flopped gracelessly into a chair and rested her chin in her hands. By now she judged female aesthetics like a man did, and was always on the lookout for talent, albeit with different motives in mind. No joy unsurprisingly, the brown cloaked woman opposite seemed a mite too classy and was engaged in conversation with a man she was sure she’d seen around here before.

Staff seemed somewhat lacking behind the counter, but she well recognised the barmaid engaged in lively conversation in the corner. “Rum when you’re ready, Eunice darlin'!”, she called over, stifling a yawn and reflecting on how unfair it was that she should feel so listless and tired on her night off. Though she loved her job, time was she could do an hour’s work on her back and be dancing on the tables by midnight. And now she felt ready to drop from running her own high maintenance farm. Vanity briefly seized her, and she took a moment to look at her reflection in a small mirror fixed on the wall. Well if she was now a farmer, at least she was an attractive farmer. If she ever became one of those fat, old Madams, swathed in black and gorging chocolates in their own chambers, she’d given her girls leave to shoot her. She’d had to explain she was jesting of course; they weren’t the brightest of lasses.

Waiting for her well needed drink, she gave a vague glance towards the clientele that Eunice was entertaining before doing a miniature double take. Her eyes widened and she straightened up a little. Well there was a surprising sight. Not seeing two bonafide pirates of course (even in this pub that was about as common as a corpse in the street), but specifically who they were.

Naturally, Kate had heard through the grapevine that the Black Pearl was back in Tortuga, complete with Captain Sparrow at the helm, but she’d dismissed it as idle gossip before passing it on to her baker. But there they were. Mr. Gibbs, bit gruff for her liking, but then again to the women round here gruff was positively loveable. Eunice certainly seemed fond of him. And Jack Sparrow himself, the less said the better. Now where had they been these past days to return with such a ship? And more importantly, had it been a lucrative journey? She was half-tempted to head straight back for the street and start a friendly interrogation such was her thirst for information. After all, if you’d lived in Tortuga for as long as she had you knew what everyone had had for dinner and more importantly what they fancied for breakfast. But she could always stand a few drinks first.
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Jack
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You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
[ * ]
When Gibbs told Jack that the woman was a prostitute, Jack was more than a little taken aback. Granted, there were more women that did than that didn't in Tortuga, but her? Well, she was probably cheap, and if she was a sort of madam, as Gibbs had suggested, she might have a lot of useful experience. There was always something to be said for that. Jack, however, preferred his women younger. Young girls were more to his liking aesthetically, and they were perhaps... hopefully... more easily impressed.

"So, what do you think of our place, Captain?"

"It's very..." Jack licked his lips, looking around. "... private," he finished, smiling as sincerely as he could manage, which was to say: not very. Stealing Gibbs' description was probably a bit obvious, but Jack was at a loss for better words. And the truth - well, the truth was overrated. Especially when it came to people who handed out free rum. Reminded of his drink, Jack took a swig. "Good rum," he half-mumbled, raising his mug to emphasise his point - and that, at least, was true.

“Rum when you’re ready, Eunice darlin'!”

Jack nearly choked on his rum, but somehow made a quick recovery. Eunice? That was the woman's name? And in such a profession as well... One would almost pity her. There'd be no end of misunderstandings - or were they misunderstandings? Jack groaned to himself, covering it up by giving a little cough, a pretended final fix for his throat. Curiosity could be a terrible thing.

With curiosity properly suppressed, Jack glanced at the woman who had shouted the order. Could that be one of the 'other girls' Gibbs had mentioned? This was getting stranger and stranger... Perhaps this place specialised in mature women? There was bound to be a market for that, and where there was a demand, there would be a supply. This held true everywhere in the world, but especially in Tortuga. Noticing the woman looking at him, Jack gave her a mildly appreciative look before returning his attention to his rum. He wasn't interested - he wasn't planning on staying very long, and other places would probably have a selection of women more to his taste - but it never hurt to show some basic politeness to women. It could get you a long way, if that was what you wanted, and it tended to dissipate any desire the woman might have to slap you.
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Joshamee Gibbs
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First Mate
[ * ]
((I'm seriously considering making Eunice an NPC, but I won't get around to it until next month sometime. Until then, I'll try to juggle them both in the same post.))

Eunice could tell by the insincerity in Jack's face that he wasn't overly impressed with the place, but that didn't bother her too much. She was well aware that compared to other establishments in the area, this one was a bit quiet. Most of the ruffians who sailed here wanted someplace with a little more action, but not everyone. For those who didn't, there was the Wishing Well. This was just fine for Eunice, because she had seen some of the problems the other working ladies encountered at those other places, and frankly, she wanted nothing to do with it.

"Good rum."

"Glad you like it, Captain. We only serve the best to the best here." She gave him a wink. Even in front of Gibbs, she didn't think twice about flirting. It was all part of her job, flirting and then some, and he was well aware of it.

“Rum when you’re ready, Eunice darlin'!”

She looked up and saw that it was one of her regulars, Kate, coming to take a break from her own, less quiet, establishment, from the look of it. "Be right there, love," she said and poured another mug to take to her.

Meanwhile, Gibbs noticed Jack's reaction at the mention of the woman's name and had a pretty good idea of what he was thinking. But Eunice was a fairly common name, even if a little unfortunate in this occupation. And lets face it, few parents named their daughters with the anticipation that they would grow up to be prostitutes. He glared at Jack. "Y' know, if yer goin' t' come into a place fer the first time, least you can do is show some respect. I don't think she deserved all that. She's only known y' five minutes an' has been nothin' but kind to y'." Perhaps he was taking a little too much offense to Jack's subtle disapproval of the place and his lady. In fact, he really shouldn't have expected any different. But that was his Eunice Jack was coughing over, and it struck a nerve with him.
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Max Glee
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Deduceer
[ * ]
((Good lord, I am so sorry for disappearing. I was knocked sideways by a virus to a point I couldn't look at my screen without getting a headache, plus things have been weird for me all around. I hope I haven't screwed up the RP with my prolonged disappearance!))

Max listened closely to Helena Lovett’s story. According to her, she was living on the ship of her twin brother, a small-time pirate who was trying to make his name in the world, acting as the ship’s cook (something she seemed to take pride in divulging). That morning, a precious broach had been stolen from the captain’s personal treasury, the stuff that was so valuable he kept it under his bed, and a sweep of the entire ship had revealed absolutely nothing. Nobody in the small crew knew anything, and the captain was threatening to start taking heads if that broach was not found soon, and even she was uncertain about whether he was bluffing or not. She had been allowed to come ashore only to find him and take him back to the ship to begin investigating.

For a moment, Max was silent, digesting the information. Then he nodded and opened his eyes, a glint of anxiety in them. Standing up, he offered his hand to the woman and said, “My dear, we must away.” Together they began walking towards the door. For now, it was to hell with Eunice, to hell with her boyfriend and the ‘notorious’ Captain Jack Sparrow, and to hell with the Wishing Well.
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Jack
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You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
[ * ]
((What does it say about me that the first thing I thought of was a computer virus? *headdesk* Anyway, no worries. Our storylines seem to have diverted anyway.
Kate, since you haven't logged in in a while, and since you're not yet talking to Jack and Gibbs or something, I figured it couldn't hurt if I posted. Feel free to jump in again, though!
Also: yes, I suck. Sue me.))



"Glad you like it, Captain. We only serve the best to the best here."

Jack gave a little smile of appreciation - not that he thought the compliment to be anything more than your normal sales pitch, but it seemed to be expected, and a smile was a small price to pay for a mug of rum. That the woman might be flirting didn't really occur to him, even knowing her profession - or perhaps he was blocking out the option, since he was far from interested. Some might criticise the indiscriminate affection shown by prostitutes, but Jack felt there was a great deal to be said for it. One could either ignore it or pretend it was more than it was, depending on one's mood - and that way, you always got what you wanted.

Eunice had barely left to bring rum to the 'lady' when Gibbs spoke up.

"Y' know, if yer goin' t' come into a place fer the first time, least you can do is show some respect. I don't think she deserved all that. She's only known y' five minutes an' has been nothin' but kind to y'."

Jack's eyebrows slowly moved up a bit during Gibbs' speech, only to move down twice as far. It was interesting that Gibbs would feel so strongly about what Jack had done, but more than that, it was annoying that he would tell Jack off like that. Jack wasn't easily insulted, and he could probably take more from Gibbs than from most others, but perhaps that was exactly why it rankled that Gibbs would criticise him; as if Jack had left himself open for it.

"Respect?" he asked, suggesting that he had given more than enough, but leaving it unclear on purpose whether that was because he had given respect or because Eunice didn't deserve any. Finishing his rum, he placed the mug on the bar again. "She's not your mother, is she?" Then Jack realised just what he was suggesting, what with the 'taking care of' mentioned before, but he couldn't be bothered to qualify what he had said. The mental image had been punishment enough, and as for Gibbs, he deserved everything he got.
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Joshamee Gibbs
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First Mate
[ * ]
There was a new look on Jack's face now, one that if he had shown it to Gibbs for any other reason, it would have made him shrink back and apologize immediately. But not this time. He looked him right in the eyes as he waited for some sort of apology, explanation, something, but as expected, Jack wasn't so easily shamed.

"Respect? She's not your mother, is she?"

"No, she's not my...," Gibbs was getting frustrated now, "She's... she's just a woman I've been seein' fer a long time now, an' I think she deserves better than that." He took a long drink of his rum to calm himself down. He was already afraid that he had given too much away, not so much by what he said, but by the way he was acting. Even he recognized that this was a little unusual for him, and he was pretty sure that it hadn't escaped Jack either.

He watched his dear Eunice from the side of his mug as he guzzled down his drink. She was serving rum to another lady across the room and had her back to him. Gibbs was noticing that she as lovely from the back as she was from the front. You don't find nice, ample bottoms like that on most of these malnourished street rats turned prostitutes that you found in the other taverns. This was a real woman who knew her trade and had a body built for the job.

A smile slowly crossed his face as he lowered his mug, his eyes still set on Eunice. Then he remembered that Jack was watching him and his face went back to its former seriousness. Feeling a bit awkward he said, "You might not know it t' look at her, but she's a true professional in her trade. That woman knows more tricks 'an all the girls at the Bride put t'gether." He sat his mug down on the bar with finality. "Even at the same time." He gave devilish smirk, hoping that might distract Jack enough to encourage another topic.
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"She's... she's just a woman I've been seein' fer a long time now, an' I think she deserves better than that."

Ah, she was Gibbs' go-to whore. That was nothing unusual; many men, especially the older ones, tended to stick to one or two women per port, generally out of some sense of home it got them. The women, of course, were all for such arrangements, as it meant less work finding customers to them. Some could be quite possessive, as Jack had had occasion to find out. Well, there were advantages to having women who knew what you liked, and two of them vying for your attention was, of course, a bonus. It could be rather flattering - when they weren't ganging up against you, slapping you around. Jack's cheek itched, but he fought down the impulse to scratch it. Every good thing had its downsides. It was a matter of weighing those against the advantages.

"You might not know it t' look at her, but she's a true professional in her trade. That woman knows more tricks 'an all the girls at the Bride put t'gether." He sat his mug down on the bar with finality. "Even at the same time."

Jack smirked back at Gibbs, but when his eyes wandered to Eunice again, his amusement evaporated. He tried to imagine it, really he did, but she did nothing for him. There truly was no accounting for taste. Normally, he would have left it at that, but there was something bothering him, and he wasn't even sure just what it was. That Gibbs had apparently kept this place a secret - well, that could actually have been less than deliberate. It was not what Jack was looking for; he wouldn't have wanted to go here anyway. But then, that was the odd thing. If Gibbs wanted this place to himself, Jack would have been happy to have let him keep it - so why hadn't Gibbs told him about it? And that look - that look in Gibbs' eyes when he talked about this Eunice woman. Something was off, but Jack couldn't quite put his finger on it. Well, he didn't have to leave this very minute; he might as well stick around a little longer, and see if his curiosity would be satisfied.

"So, you come here often, then. She's a... regular of yours?" Jack inquired, fiddling with his mug just to have something to do.
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