try_corsets: (Backlight)
Captain Elizabeth Turner ([personal profile] try_corsets) wrote2008-02-15 03:15 pm

(no subject)

Nassau.

The air is sticky and smells of salt, unwashed bodies, and a large amount of rum. And something else, here in this dirty alleyway, but Elizabeth doesn't waste time or effort puzzling over what that might be.

Mr. Gibbs is beside her, one hand wrapped around a bottle. He takes a drink and watches the docks with an unblinking stare. The port is busy tonight. The Empress won't be spotted, though there are plenty of other ships for Elizabeth to observe through her small spyglass.

A faint click signals that she's put it away. Although they are unlikely to be noticed in the shadows, she's disinclined to stay in one spot, spying, longer than necessary. There's a pub nearby they mean to try, and it looks like one of the captains in which they've taken an interest is headed that way.

She smiles a bit, nodding to Tai Huang at his spot several yards away and resting a hand on Mr. Gibbs’ arm.

Time to move.

(Anonymous) 2008-02-26 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
There is a commotion of sorts going on further down the peir. Sailors gawk, cargo forgotten, lines neglected as all stare at... something that can not clearly be seen at the moment. Something that no one was apparently expecting to discover tucked away in their hold.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-02-27 08:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"Best we not get too close. Such things have a way of spilling over. Though we might wish to seek advantage if it does." Fights are usually go for those who don't get involved with anything but lost coin pouches.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-02-28 09:20 am (UTC)(link)
Gibbs listens. And looks a bit confused. "That's a bit odd. MAybe it's coming to an end?"

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-02-28 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Gibbs is sure that there is never anything you can say "it woouldn't hurt" about. But this being Nassau and not Tortuga, and her being the captain, he nods consent. And places a hand on his pistol.
evil_koala_626: (Eeeevil!)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-04 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Someone else seems to have reached the same conclusion.

"You there!" Announces the harbormaster strolling purposefully towards what appears to be the center of the disturbance, ledger in hand. "What seems to be the- Lord in Heaven!"

Crewmen have obliging cleared the way for him (any excuse to remove themselves from the immediate vicinity seems like a good one) subsequently clearing the view at least partly for any observers a ways off.

There is a man standing on the pier. A man who appears to have frozen in place, one fist clasped around the top of a burlap sack. The sack is being held at arms length, with the sailors full horrified attention focused on its contents. There is a brief glimpse of blue and excited nonsensical gibberish.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-04 07:07 pm (UTC)(link)
The pistol is now halfway out of the holster. Gibbs is at the ready, not far behind his captain and not offering his own opinion.
evil_koala_626: peaces_icons (Grrr)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-04 08:10 pm (UTC)(link)
As if in reply, there is the sound of ripping fabric as a set of long claws tear their way along on wall of the sack from the inside.

"Aka boocha!" jabbers the contents of the sack. This seems to jar the sailor out of his stupor enough to give him the presence of mind to swing the sack in a downward arc away form himself, where it lands with a solid thump. There is furious growling, rurther shredding sounds and suddenly there is a rather peeved looking experiment glaring at the assembled crowd.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-04 08:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"Dog?" Gibbs is no expert, but that...that is no dog. And yet, if the captain says that's her dog, she must have a very good reason.

"Captain," he whispers in her ear, "is there something you are not tellin' me?" Very quietly, he once again holsters the gun.
evil_koala_626: spiffy_themes (Hmm)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-04 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)



'Dog?' a third voice very nearly asks.

But then Stitch catches sight of the voice's owner. He narrows his own eyes thoughtfully. Why is she here? Where is here? Who are these people? And then he catches Elizabeth's expression.

"Bark! Bark! Bark!" He's played this game before. Many times. She says he's a dog? He'll go along with it until he can get some answers.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-04 09:33 pm (UTC)(link)
There isn't much to do but watch. And let Elizabeth do what she needs to. And try not to shoot that monstrosity despite his orders.

But the next rum is going to be on her, undoubtedly.
evil_koala_626: (Bah!)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-04 10:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Stitch semi-solves the problem for her by flattening his ears at the jeering. His eyes narrow farther, lip culting slighlty at the patting. But he obidiently follows behind her on all fours.

Occasionally a face is pulled at the crowd.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-04 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes," Gibbs mutters, "come along...er, you. And we'll find you some scraps.

"And maybe," he adds only to Elizabeth, "we can avoid a proper riot, since the natives are a bit antsy."
evil_koala_626: spiffy_themes (Hmm)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-23 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)
A tense silence falls as the alien sits on the cobbled ground and gives Gibbs an appraising look. Narrowed eyes taking in the man's stance, his dress, his expression.

Without breaking eye contact, Stitch reaches behind one ear and retrieves a piece of hard tack (the origional contents of the sack). It's absently placed into his mouth where much crunching commences.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-24 01:00 am (UTC)(link)
Gibbs just watches. The beast, whatever is it, has the manners of a sailor, if nothing else.

"Not that I mean to impolite, seein'
as how you're about our guest and all, but...what in God's name are you?"
evil_koala_626: (Default)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-24 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
"Stitch."

Grin. Not quite the reaction he was hoping for but... promising.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-24 09:16 am (UTC)(link)
"And you know the captain from the Bar?" That part makes more sense, if only because the Bar is an impossible place.
evil_koala_626: spiffy_themes (Hmm)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-28 01:10 am (UTC)(link)
"Ih. 'Lizbeth?" A clawed thumb is jerked in Captain Turner's direction. "Ih." Nod.

She promised him a hat.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-28 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
"And what manner of beast are you?" He really should know better than to ask such things. He would do much better just letting Mrs Captain Turner handle things.
evil_koala_626: spiffy_themes (Hmm)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-29 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
"Stitch is Stitch. From..."

Beat.

Neither Jack nor Elizabeth have ever heard of Kauai. And considering the evidence presented thus far, it's not too difficult a leap to deduce that this is almost definatley their world.

"From Pacific. Next to Samoa." Give or take a few thousand miles.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 01:05 am (UTC)(link)
"Ah. I see." After meeting zombies, fish-men and a kraken, what's one more beastie?
evil_koala_626: spiffy_themes (Hmm)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-30 09:05 pm (UTC)(link)
IF by that you mean that Stitch has given his name and not bothered to ask anything about Gibbs, then yes. Yes they have.

"Hata xate."

The experiment gives a shrug, clawed hands offered palms up in the universal gesture of 'I dunno!'

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"We...introduced ourselves. He's....he hasn't tried to kill me, so I think that's a start." For a pirate, that's a breakthrough.
evil_koala_626: peaces_icons (Blink)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-30 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)

Stitch's head jerks back towards Gibbs, ears drawn back, eyes blinking in surprise. He says nothing for a few seconds.

"Naga. Uhog-... Was outside. Inna snow." The English as always has a slightly stilted sound to it compared to his normal rapid-fire babbling. Each syllable is pronounced carefully.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-31 12:09 am (UTC)(link)
"This sounds...familiar." Spoon. Before Gibbs left Tortuga. "You were in the outside, and then something happened, and you were here?"

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-31 12:28 am (UTC)(link)
"My friend Spoon - have you met him? Braided hair, is a werewolf, engaged to a woman named Ace? - showed up in Tortuga a moth before you and I met up again, Captain. Said it was the second time that something snatched him from the Bar. First time he was sent to ancient Greece or Rome or something. He didn't know quite what did it, but it did happen.

"Took us two weeks to find him a way back home." At least Spoon spoke English, though.
evil_koala_626: spiffy_themes (Hmm)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-03-31 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
...

Spoon is a what?! Though... in hindsight it seems pretty obvious; the regeneration of limbs, the battle prowess, the canine scent... The fact that this has happened to others will be filed away for future consideration.

Elizabeth's question is almost as unnerving. He gives a loud derisive snort and shakes his head. This is his disguise. It generally works fairly well.

[identity profile] pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com 2008-03-31 05:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"I think," Gibbs says to his captain but withut whispering, "that we best not argue much with him.

"Perhaps if we find some clothes for him. A big hat, too. He's not much shorter than Marty." But alas, bigger than Mister Cotton's parrot and not suited to ride on anyone's shoulder.
evil_koala_626: (Default)

[personal profile] evil_koala_626 2008-08-19 04:42 pm (UTC)(link)
The mention of his promised hat gets a wide grin.




It is some time later that the door to the tavern is pushed open, groaning slightly on its hinges. Of the three figures that enter, there is the clomp of three sets of boots on the earthen floor. One pair patters at a considerably more rapid pace than the others.