stem_the_tide | Wherein I am Exceedingly Vexed

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Wherein I am Exceedingly Vexed

It has been three days since I departed Port Royal with the Dauntless to search for Jack Sparrow, and thus far we have encountered nothing but doldrums on the sea and rumours on land. The ideas that man seems to cultivate about himself are absolutely mad- he rode off on the back of a dolphin, or perhaps he was last seen in the upstairs room of a Tortuga in with two whores, a serving boy, and something in between.

It's all complete and utter bollocks, if you will permit me to be crass for a moment. I find that Sparrow tends to inspire crassness in a person; all the more reason to get him hanged as soon as possible, or at least locked up in the deepest room in the fort until even he can no longer come up with any smart remarks. A good man he may be, but he is still a pirate, and an absolutely vexing and infuriating pirate at that. I fear for my sanity.

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S'might be profitable to be getting out of the sun, mate, if you're to be believing such tales.

Wasn't a dolphin. Giant squid.

Heaven forfend I should believe any such rot, Sparrow, and if you think to toy with me with your idiotic, swollen-headed stories, I would thank you to be silent.

I weren't to be wanting to toy with you, my good Commodore -- Still Commodore, eh? Haven't decided to turn o'er your papers and turn pirate like meself have you? -- only wanting to be offering my expertise on the matter. So to speak. Theoretically. Existentially.

Traded for it with a man named Jose. Has a farm somewhere round these parts. Breeds 'em. Like cattle.

Yes, Sparrow, I am still a Commodore, not something which is likely to change, unless I happen to become Admiral even sooner than forseen. I shudder at the thought of becoming a brigand like yourself.

'Existentially'- do you even know what that means? And pray do not lean so close; there's a significant possibility of intoxication from the mere odour of your breath.

It means what it means in that it means what the other words are given to mean it means in the grammaratical context. So the meaning really is in the means of the word itself.

That would be the rum's doing, but of course. I shall be obliged to respect your wishes. 'Specially if you're already referencing -- *steps into Norrington's personal space again* -- suffering from shuddering at the terms of brigandry.

Sparrow, you are positively begging for a sojourn in the brig.

*places a disdainful finger on Jack's shoulder and pushes him delicately away*

Now was there something you wanted, or is your purpose here merely to vex me further?

Am I? Apologies. Beggars can't be choosers and choosers can't be beggars and would all do us some good to neither be choosing or begging or begging to be chosen.

And if I may just point out, that it would be you, Commodore, who I think were looking for me to do a bit of vexing. But if I am wrong, well I shall simply be on my merry little way.

*tips hat and begins to swagger away* Ta.

*reaches out and firmly grabs Jack's wrist as he leaves*

You shall not be on your way, Sparrow, and if I have anything to do with it, it most certainly shall not be merry. I was searching for you, if you recall, after giving you a generous and most undeserved one day's head start. I am here now to deal out justice, as is my unfortunate lot in life. Come on.

*stares down at Norrington's hand for a few confused moments then looks back up*

*daintily tries to peel Norrington's fingers off his wrist*

I think it would be wise if we were to keep to that spirit of generousity and call this enounter part of that one day's head start, as obviously I have not head started and you have not justified your deals as of yet.

Though I might say, 'unfortunate lot'? You need to find yourself a girl, mate. Or a nice swig of rum.

*refuses to let go, staring icily at Jack*

My 'deals'? And what might those be?

It has, in point of fact, been three days since I gave you one day's head start; if you have not chosen to make well of that time, it is nobody's fault but your own. Though I cannot say I'm surprised to find you in a back alley reeking of rum; is this how the famous pirate Captain Jack Sparrow spends his time? Drunk at port? *snorts derisively*

You're deals are your business, of course, but one can't help wondering, given the type of man you give yourself to be and given the type of man I give myself to be, why it is that you even offered the one day in the first place. But that be your cause to square away with yourself one of these days.

*twists his wrist and wrenches it clear of Norrington's grasp*

I should think though that you need some time on your lonesome to puzzle that mystery out so I should be heading back to my ship so we can continue this elucidate game of cat and mouse in some future cognitive event.

I- *cuts himself off; he has no need to explain himself to this pirate* Indeed.

I warn you, Sparrow, I have Marines guarding every harbour of this pathetic little port- if you think you have any chance of escaping, even if you do manage to get away from me- doubtful- you are deluding yourself sadly.

*smiles that Norrington won't answer his question*

I harbour absolutely no inescapable doubt that you are a man of your words when it comes to warnings. But between the two of us, there has been managed enough such attempts in our personal, fond history and the only thing I think I will go delude myself in is a nice bottle of rum.

Could use some yourself, you know. Bit of a break from the -- *gestures gradiously* -- from the state you find yourself in. And what's to say, eh? Said so yourself that you have Marines for the finding and catching of ol' Jack. Needn't worry about it yourself from a night, hm?

*glowers at Jack's knowing smirk*

I am afraid that Commodores of His Majesty's Royal Navy do not succumb so easily to the bottle as certain pirates, Mister Sparrow. Nor, indeed, would I choose to drink with you were I permitted to do so. It is clear to me that you wish simply to, to- seduce me into thinking you a good man, as you have somehow done with Turner and Eliz- Miss Swann. No fear on that count.

However, you know as well as I that the Marines stationed at Port Royal are not of the highest calibre, and are ergo virtually useless without myself at their head. I do, of course, have the fine Lieutenents Grove and Gillette, but I must lead by example.

So no, Sparrow, I shall not share a 'nice bottle of rum' with you.

*interjects quietly, mostly to himself* Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow.

*waits until Norrington is done talking, looking about a bit boredly as he goes through his reasoning, until finally lighting up again when it's his turn to speak*

That's a lot of long, complex reasoning for why you aren't more what to be inclined to have a drink, Commodore. And I didn't even say what about the types your Marines might or mightn't be. Sounds like another one of those things that'll need squaring for you one of these days.

Indeed, Captain Sparrow, but for the moment-

*growls- he has had enough of this banter- and lunges after Jack*

*squirms out of the way and dodges until he is standing in Norrington's old spot, staring at the back of the man in front of him*

Wouldn't be as inclined to cause trouble if you had a spot of rum in you, mate.

*stands loosely at the ready in case Norrington decides to jump him again*

Though maybe this is just your form when it comes to such things as seduction and good men, eh?

And how do you know that, Sparrow? *lunges again, smiling evilly* I might be a violent drunk.

*pulls out his sword with a flourish*

And as for seduction and good men, I- *pauses, suddenly completely flabbergasted* Seduction? Sparrow, are you- I- what?

Perhaps you are, but all inebriated scallywags such as meself would surely love to see such a --

*side-steps the lunge again and withdraws his own sword, circling around to keep talking to Norrington's back*

*becomes confused himsef at Norrington's question* What?

*furiously brings his sword down at Sparrow*

You deliberately try to confuse me, you mock me, and now you attempt to- to *he can barely bring himself to spit out the word* seduce me? And you wonder, Sparrow, why I cannot stand you.

*blocks the blow and thrusts up in return*

I think, mate, if we're to be looking at this objectively, it was you who brought up seduction first. So if there is any wondering to be about as to why you cannot stand me, perhaps we should be looking at your own motives and not mine.

Unless you want to take this lying down.

*parries Jack's thrust and spins around, thrusting with his blade*

I do not like what you are implying, pirate.

*undercuts the thrust and delves a blow with the fist holding the hilt of his sword to Norrington's chest*

The implication in and of itself or the what of the matter to be reckoned with?

*chokes for air and wrathfully throws a punch at Sparrow, hitting him in the face. He regards him triumphantly*

Neither, as it happens. Though perhaps you do. *sneers* A catamite as well as a pirate. Well, I wouldn't be surprised.

*reels from the punch and then brings up his sword, slicing at whatever part of Norrington he can while his eyesight blacks out*

If you dislike neither, my good Commodore, you certainly are putting up quite a fight at disproving that claim.

*still angry, but confused as well. He fights to keep said confusion from showing, as he casually parries Jack's wild slices*

And what do you mean by that?

What is that anyone means by whatever the meaning implied?

*shakes his head a bit and throws out a sharp, wild strike to Norrington's shoulder before retreating a few steps*

Had quite enough, mate, or should we continue this erudite battle of wits and blades while you puzzle out what it is that we are fighting?

*brings up his blade to counter Jack's strike, but is not quite in time- the sword slices through his jacket and draws blood. He hisses in pain and irritation and doubles his attack*

You expect me to give up, Sparrow? Hah. If you wish to flee, by all means do so, but you shall be pursued, so it may well be pointless. And if you think to weasel your way out of a thrashing with clever words, think again! I know enough to know why I fight- what about yourself?

*frowns a bit that he drew blood because he really didn't mean to wound Norrington -- not yet at least; but speeds up his defence as the attacks come at a quicker rate, almost too quick for Jack to keep up with*

I wouldn't be of the mind to presume then that this can go much farther if you plan on pursuing me clear cross the Caribbean. I'd say it's nigh on time we part ways again, Commodore, if you're to be as knowledgable about your reasoning and motivations as is.

*begins to lead them around to a darken part of the port where he can make an escape if need be in the next few moments*

We shall see about that, Sparrow.

*avidly pursues Jack, sword flashing triumphantly as he sees the pirate's difficulty in keeping up with his superior height and training*

But how will you manage a parting of our respective ways, I wonder, when I have you chained up in the brig of the Dauntless? Chains do tend to have that effect.

Aye, that they do. But there'd be a slight problem in you're plan, mate.

*gathers all his strength and shoves with all his weigh against Norrington's blows, giving him just the right amount of time to back away*

You'll have to put me there first.

*flees flailingly down a dock and ducks behind one of the large cargo loads in the shadows*

*hissed, to himself* Damn!

*he draws himself up and shouts* Marines! Come on, men! Conduct a thorough search of that dock and the surrounding area; I want Sparrow caught!

*he passes a hand over his face, looking- weary? confused?- for the briefest of moments, before schooling his visage back into that of the effecient Commodore. He begins to search the dock*

Damn you, you insane, vexatious, lunatic.

He pants for a few moments behind the boxes. This is quite a bit of the sticky mess he's got himself in now that there are Marines involved, and Norrington still out there. It won't be long before he discovers the small shadowy space Jack has himself hidden away in.

Besides he didn't get to say his grand parting words.

The Pearl is anchored safely off shore nearby in the shoals but the most of his crew is scattered about the port, drinking and galivanting with the fine company that such a port provides. Even if he got back to her, he couldn't sail her all by his onesie. What he really needs is to get to the other side of the dock where a dingy, he knows, is tied.

Sheething his sword, Jack tipsily sneaks over to the edge of the dock and dives as quietly as possible into the water. He swims over to the digny and begins to row himself back to the Pearl.

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Wherein I am Exceedingly Vexed

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