crossing_lostrp | [Jack S.] What do you do with a drunken sailor?

Who: Jack Sparrow
Where: Medical Facility, Cafeteria 1
When: Day 20, about noonish
Invited: Everyone in Cafeteria 1
Status: Complete

(OOC - Jack is coming from here.)

Jack reached the cafeteria a lot slower than he expected. The bottle of rum that he'd found had been mostly full when he left the security office, but it was now less than a quarter full. Predictably, he was staggering more than he had in the past few days.

Practically falling into the room cradling the bottle like a baby, Jack headed straight for Isabel. His vision was beginning to blur, but he could still see the vision he'd glimpsed on the monitor.

"Who ish thith?" Jack slurred to the group assembled around Isabel. Hearing himself speak brought a fuzzy thought to his mind. /This is no ordinary rum!/

Sitting suddenly became a priority. Finding a chair he sat down, pondering why he had become so incredibly intoxicated already. Imagine it! Captain Jack Sparrow, falling down drunk from just a few....large....swigs from a modern bottle of rum. He'd never live it down if his mates in Tortuga heard of this.

"This is Isabel, she's recently joined us here on Mindfuck Island," somebody that Jack hadn't met yet responded to his question. "And I see you've managed to find some rum."

"Aye," Jack replied. "But there ish something wrong with it. I once drank fifty bottles of rum before stomin some fool merchant's ship and makin' off with 'er plunder, without nary a stagger or slur. Thish bottle has got me actin like some stuffed shirt lord what never drank in their life!" That was only a slight exaggeration. It had been only 5 bottles, and he and his crew had been badly run off by the privateers they had tried to board. What the man didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Scanning the crowd, Jack's eyes came to rest on a couple laying on a mattress in the corner. There was something familiar about the female, it seemed as if he knew her from someplace. Staggering to his feet, he moved a little closer.

"Strange place to be bunkin in, ain't it?" Jack asked nobody in particular.

"That's one of the women that was kidnapped," the man with the glasses answered his question again. "She was pretty worn out from her experience, and she just sorta crashed here."

The woman turned over in her sleep, and Jack's breath caught in his throat as he saw her face. "Tia Dalma?" he whispered.

Jack stared, open mouthed at the bottle of rum he'd been cradling. Very deliberately he set it down on a nearby table and backed away from it.

"This stuff ain't rum, it's evil. Or Tia Dalma really is lying over there on that mattress."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well I was going to see about taking the alcohol out of what's left of that bottle," Isabel said, "but your method has a certain direct appeal to it." She studied the newcomer, remembering that he'd been around when she'd first arrived. "I'm afraid I don't know who you are."

"Adam Pierson. Doctor, pirate wrangler.." Methos sniffed the open bottle appreciatively, then looked sideways at the young woman. He'd heard what she'd done to Claire from Damon and a little of her explanation from House (who'd been laughing hysterically at the time), and was rather suspicious himself. "As for extracting the, uh, alcohol - he'd only seek out some more, no matter how far away. Believe it or not, Jack Sparrow is more useful to us while drunk."

"Dare I ask how?" Aiden questioned Methos.

And what does everyone want for lunch anyway? You all think I'm just here to look good?" She put her hands on her hips, waiting for everyone's lunch orders.

"Because the man is infinitely more annoying when sober. If that compass hadn't led us here, I'm fairly sure that he'd be tied and gagged to a tree by now. Perhaps worse."

The offer of lunch was very welcome, on the other hand. "Is there anyway to make up some soup? All of our various invalids should be able to manage that. Would you like a hand, in any case?"

"Depends on what supplies we got. I know a good recipe for mushroom soup, but I can do chicken, beef, vegetable, just about anything. I'd love a hand getting supplies together, strange kitchen n all." Aiden said, rummaging to find a soup pot and some decent knives.

"I'm not much of a cook," Isabel said, rising to her feet, "but I can handle soup if you tell me what to put in it.

"If, that is, you're willing to let me near the knives."

Aiden smirked. "Knife. Singular, you don't need more then one. And you just stick to chopping things." Aiden pulled out a soup pout and started doing the math in her mind, how many this soup would need to serve. Not that it mattered now if she made too much. It could always be refrigerated or even frozen for later.

Isabel regarded the vegetables presented on the worktop for her to chop, hefted the knife a couple of times while wishing Aiden had seen fit to give her a slightly larger one, and set to chopping, wondering where everybody else was. She was being left out of the big picture, she knew, and it galled somewhat. These people had been here for more than two weeks, and had suffered a lot. Naturally they were suspicious of her, and after what had happened with Claire...

She would have to talk to her, try and get her to understand what had happened with Tess. It probably wouldn't help, but she needed to try, needed to somehow get that barrier down between her and the group. What she'd done was probaby unforgiveable, but there wasn't much hope of her being able to integrate into the group without Claire's acceptance. Not properly, anyway.

She sighed and picked up another carrot, rapidly disassembling it into slices. At least the people who'd built this strange bunker kept their knives sharp.

Aiden worked on the soup. Keeping an eye on Isabel all the while.

"Do you cook at home?"

"Well I've not had much chance to cook for the last few years. We've been on the move, travelling all the time. I used to, though. Sometimes. Mom usually wouldn't let me though. She likes her kitchen to be hers, you know? And when I moved in with Jesse... the situation didn't allow me to engage in domestic bliss for very long."

((OOC: Since Isabel's in another thread that occurs after this one, I'd like to wrap this up before too long so I don't start contradicting myself.))

I think this thread's closed; I've stopped including it in Active Threads.

rwarner just hasn't been able to stop in and change the status of the original post.

Sorry for leaving everyone high and dry on this one. With the others that have cropped up that take place afterwards, closing this makes sense. I've marked it as such.

[Jack S.] What do you do with a drunken sailor?

[Isabel] Not quite, unfortunately

[Methos] Not quite, unfortunately

Re: [Aiden] and certinally more entertaining

[Methos] you wanna bet?

Re: [Aiden] you wanna bet?

[Isabel] I'm not much of a cook

Re: [Isabel] It's not rocket science

[Isabel] Chop chop

Re: [Aiden] I'm trying

[Isabel]

OOC

Re: OOC