[OPEN] alas, my children

[andajarofdirt]

Characters: Jack, Jack & you.
Setting: Floor 42
Format: Starting action, but I'll match you either way.
Summary: In which Jack - the monkey - is being a pest, and Jack - the pirate - wants his goddamn hat back. 
Warnings: Jack Sparrow being Jack Sparrow. Also, creepy undead monkey and potential shooting of it.

JACK!

[Captain Jack Sparrow does not usually scream. Or screech. Or lose his cool, composed air of sophisticated pirate lord. In other words, he's usually too busy pretending to be drunk to do much, really. But sometimes a man must take a stand. Sometimes, there's a monkey involved. Sometimes, a hat is in danger.]

Bugger all, you little pest. I'm gonna shoot yer brains out, see if I don't!

[Sometimes, when an undead monkey steals your hat and runs away into a floor made of shifting, moving bars, you think "oh god, why" or "I bet you all this is God's way of getting back at me about the priest thing" and "I really did think it was a brothel, mate, it's a common mistake to make!" When you're Jack Sparrow, though, the reaction is more along the lines of profuse pirate swearing before chasing after it. Into the bars. Which is where your character will find him, balancing around half drunkenly, moving along and trying to reach the monkey with the hat, pistol at hand. He can't shoot the monkey because then his hat will fall off, but he can certainly chase it.

You know, for someone who's supposedly drunk off his ass - how!? - Jack has an uncanny sense of balance, able to run and jump and otherwise chase around after the undead, chittering monkey with relative ease.]

I will make bullets outta your bones, Jack, to make up for the ones you make me waste!

Comments

[scorchedchivalry]

[Saber doesn't flinch at the spectacle she just watched. All she did was raise an eyebrow and beckon the monkey to her again.]

Come here, monkey.

[And then back to Jack the man...]

Calling me 'lady' implies I am a woman. I would prefer you not to do so. I am a knight and thus my gender is meaningless.

[andajarofdirt]

[Jack sighs and shrugs.]

Well, have it your way, love.

[He hangs puts the pistol back into his belt and his hands on his hips, watching the proceedings carefully. He's not shooting the monkey again if it tries to bite her. The monkey considers approaching, giving her the wide-eyed look that generally snares others into thinking it's the victim here, chirping quietly.]

[scorchedchivalry]

Call me Saber.

[She knows better than to be taken in by the monkey, but she's clad in armor and any attempted bit of it would only end up with it bouncing off of her and possibly hurting itself.]

Come here, monkey. He will not shoot you if you are with me.

[andajarofdirt]

You can't know that.

[Jack muttered snidely, frowning and folding his arms over his chest in a tantrum. Then he nearly slipped off the bars and cursed. Meanwhile, the monkey approached tentatively, slowly. Careful and clearly waiting an attack. Poor, poor abused monkey, huh.]

[scorchedchivalry]

If you have any sense of self-preservation, you will not shoot it while you're with me. Your bullet would most likely ricochet off my prana and potentially embed itself into you.

[Saber had seen many odd creatures here at the Tower. Her most recent was a cheagle, so this monkey was at least a form she was more familiar with. When the monkey got close enough, the armored hand of the knight moved to stroke the top of its head.]

Come, little one. It is beneath me to injure a creature such as you.

[andajarofdirt]

[Jack hums at that, shifting bars as they move again, arching an eyebrow.]

I'm hurt, love, I'd never shoot a knight while trying to shoot a monkey.

[He sounds amused at the idea, more than anything. Jack lets her pet him for a bit, before screeching loudly at her and shooting out towards the pirate, bouncing off the bars and then swiftly climbing around him until it perched itself on his shoulder, clinging to the dreads. Jack snorted, giving it a side-long glare.]

Must you, really.

[But Jack only hissed at him, tightening the hold on his hair.]

[scorchedchivalry]

[Saber stands back up. Well, she tried to be semi-nice to the monkey.]

Why even shoot the monkey? It does not do anything to it. And do you have a name or shall I call you whatever comes to mind?

[andajarofdirt]

[It's not her fault, Jack's skittish that way. It entertains itself chewing on one of the dreads, tiny, beady eyes staring at her as Jack saunters over to Saber, swaying as he goes.]

Captain Jack Sparrow, love.

[Jack grins.]

You remind me of a King I know.

[scorchedchivalry]

[Her eyebrow twitched just slightly at yet another 'love'. She'd given him a name to call her. Why wasn't he using it? Was she going to have to specifically tell him so? Probably. Yet, his comment distracted her from her irritation.]

And what king would that be?

[Saber had been a king in life. A five foot tall king. Short knight is short. She was curious...]

[andajarofdirt]

[Jack grinned at her.]

Her majesty Elizabeth Turner, Pirate King.

[scorchedchivalry]

Pirate King?

[Nope. Not believing this.]

[andajarofdirt]

Elected by public vote by the Pirate Lords of the Fourth Brethren Court, yes.

[He looks terribly amused by her expression.]

Not someone you wanted to tease beyond annoyance, Lizzie. Made an impressive King, she did.

[scorchedchivalry]

A king is not elected but selected through proper tournament, succession or fulfillment of destiny.

[andajarofdirt]

It's in the Code, love.

[You can almost hear the capital in his voice. He shrugs.]

So it's how it's done.

[scorchedchivalry]

Is that your form of tournament? [In that case, she'll accept it.]

[andajarofdirt]

I suppose you could see it that way.

[And then he smiles a little cruelly, remembering the source of the words that echo in his memory.]

You know, I would say it's actually harder to become King under the Code than through a tournament.

[scorchedchivalry]

I never liked succession through tournament. Succession is supposed to be through bloodlines and destiny. Prophecy.

[She sighs.] Though perhaps tournament produces better kings.

[andajarofdirt]

You know what's a good King? One that gets stuff done and doesn't meddle too much in your business.

[scorchedchivalry]

One would think that. [She was such a king.] But that does not work in reality. A king that distances himself from his people while doing what he thinks is best for the people is no king at all. Just someone pretending at playing king...

[andajarofdirt]

But then you have the other kind of King that just makes a mess about everything and sticks their nose where it doesn't belong.

[Jack shrugs.]

Ain't no good, either.

[scorchedchivalry]

Whereas that kind of king may seem unwanted and meddlesome by the less fortunate people, it is best for the country. That kind of king sees that the land properly prospers and expands.

[andajarofdirt]

You know what happens to those kings, love? They cause revolts.

[Jack makes a slicing motion over his neck.]

And then they lose something more important than their crown.

[scorchedchivalry]

I am very much aware of that. [Too aware.] I do not know if there is a middle ground. Both types lead to civil unrest.

[andajarofdirt]

Yep.

[Jack grins.]

But you know the answer to that, love? Rum.

[scorchedchivalry]

[She tilts her head a bit.]

I prefer a cold tankard of ale.