10th ♥ [Action]

[erythrophilia]

[Grell's out looking for a certain Captain Jack Sparrow and so he'll be wandering the village, looking as nonchalant as possible. He'll go in and out of stores, around the buildings, and then out into the woods. Feel free to notice him or encounter him up until he finally finds our French-speaking Captain.]

Captain, my Captain, where can you be

Comments

;3;

[erythrophilia]

'Twas fun, darling. We should play again sometime.

[He pets back Jack's hair and plants a light kiss on his forehead before standing up and leaving him there basically to die.]

[lists_to_port]

[Jack fights not to fall asleep, but it's difficult. He is aware that Grell is gone, and makes an effort to prop himself up a bit. First he tries to recite the names of all the ships he's served on. Makes himself say them aloud, even.]

White Bear. Wasp. Scorpion. Arbella. Heaven's Favor. Wicked Wench. Black Pearl.

[flicker_flash]

[He might be aware enough to hear the small, uneven patter of feet as they wind their way through trees nearby - or when her bare toes dip in blood, and she hmms and slaps her foot down deliberately. It's like jumping in a puddle. You have certainly bled far too much, Captain Sparrow.

If he doesn't hear her, he'll certainly see her when she looms into his vision, hair a tangled wreck and white face solemn. Then she frowns.]

You shouldn't sleep here. You'll get wet.

[lists_to_port]

[He forces his eyes open. Cabin girl.]

Cabin girl.

[There was a ship he was forgetting. Portuguese?]

Portuguese? White Bear. Wasp. Scorpion. Arbella. Heaven's Favor. Wicked Wench. Black Pearl...

[flicker_flash]

[Nodding every time he lists a ship name as if it makes perfect sense, and then she tilts her head, blinking and waving a hand in the air as if swatting a fly away. Then she frowns again, crouching down with an uneven little stumble and touching one finger to that wound. It's not exactly gentle, sorry D: But it's a light prod, nothing too harsh, and then she stares at her blood-stained finger. Before looking surprised.]

You're actually bleeding. Aren't you? [Peeeer.] It must hurt getting salt in it like that. All the movies say so. Salt just makes everything sting. [And just in case you thought she'd turned into a raving psychopath, Katie has the grace to actually look worried.] Are you bleeding to death? Did someone unzip you?

[lists_to_port]

Aye, lass. [He--can't really feel her touch. He's getting numb, and cold. He shivers.]

Potuguese, Portuguese...

White Bear. Wasp. Scorpion. Arbella. Heaven's Favor. Wicked Wench. Black Pearl...

Can't remember.

[flicker_flash]

Aye, lass. [Repeating him absently, small hands tracing down the length of that wound as if making sure for herself it's actually there.]

This won't do. A captain goes down with his ship, he doesn't drown on his own.

...Here, I have too much blood. [And now she presses down on his chest - hard.] I'll give some to you. But you have to swim to shore after that on your own.

[She's absolutely right - well, in her own way. She has far too much glamour than is safe and sane for anyone, and she's going to bleed the edge of the magic off in a healing cantrip. Numb and cold? Jack might be unprepared for the rush of warmth that pushes into him from her hands, and the wound will knit together almost as violently as it was inflicted. Bit of a shock to the system, that. But she doesn't have the delicacy to be gentle about this.]

1/2

[lists_to_port]

 

2/2

[lists_to_port]

[And knit together he does, as warmth floods his body and blood courses through his frame. It doesn't hurt so much as feel like pressure building in his body, so much so that he answers his own question in a strangled gasp.]

Saqueador!

[Then, louder and with more confidence as the pressure begins to relent a bit and the numb haze dissipates.]

White Bear, Wasp, Scorpion, Arbella, Heaven's Favor, Wicked Wench, Saqueador, Black Pearl!

Cabin girl...

[flicker_flash]

[Why does he keep repeating that, anyway? Maybe it's a magic spell. Her gaze drifts away, before she shakes her head and squints back at him doubtfully.]

You're hardly there. Are you feeling better?

[lists_to_port]

[He...IS feeling better. It's like a fever breaking, that moment when the body relaxes and stops fighting. But the pirate doesn't feel particularly weak, as one does after a long fever. Everything seems to hit his senses as though he's experiencing it for the first time: the rough feel of the ground; the sharp coppery smell of the blood that has soaked into his shirt and which has puddled on the ground all around him; the sound of leaves brushing together in the wind.]

I am, lass.

[Jack gets to his feet, touching his chest; a thin red line marks an injury that had almost torn him apart. It seems to point at his heart. He looks down at Katie.]

You're magic, Cabin Girl.

[flicker_flash]

I'm not magical at all. It's all science and accounting. Magic hurts.

[Said as absently as discussing the weather, and her attention is already drifting off again. Rubbing at her face leaves a smear of his blood across her nose, and her hands and feet are coated with the stuff, but she doesn't appear to notice. She blinks and peers at him again, trying to focus, but he's standing up and so obviously he's feeling better.]

There. Who did that to you?

[...mind you, she doesn't appear to be interested in the answer. The next time her gaze drifts, she turns with it, starting to pad off into the forest. Apparently the trees are more important.]

[lists_to_port]

Death did it. [Sparrow calls after her in a low voice. When next he speaks it is mostly to himself.]

Saqueador. Life's too short to be good, eh, Cabin Girl?

[He begins to wander back toward the school, one hand still touching the line Grell and Katie together had made. Death and madness. He'd survived them both, so many times.]

Gave away me ship? What sort of pirate have I been? Gibbs'd be ashamed. And whatever would me dad say? No more of that. No more crawling to hero-types for Jack Sparrow. Trying to civilize him, aren't they? No more. No more. New horizons, lad. Time to get back to business...