thecapitol | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who| Firo and anyone!
What| A newbie getting his bearings and bugging others
Where| All throughout the Training Center
When| About a week after the last arena
Warnings/Notes| None as of now

Firo isn’t much the type to shut himself away when he’s freaking out. No, he’s the type to pace restlessly even if he has no idea where he’s going. To expend some of that energy and, hopefully, the jitters, he decides to explore.

Common Area

“Wow…”

Firo doesn’t get too far out of his room before he’s gawking at the décor and furnishings of the place. He has to admit, especially after the drabness of Alcatraz, the rooms are impressive, if not exactly to his taste. He wanders around the floor unabashedly staring at everything.

Including any residents. If he spots someone, he’ll pick his way over to them.

“So, uh. What exactly do you do?”

If there’s some way to tell apart the tributes from the staff and other Capitol denizens, Firo doesn't know it yet. Either way, he figures he should get to know them. If what he’s learned so far is correct, he’ll be stuck with these people for a long time.

Bar

As he spots the bar, Firo nearly feels something akin to contentment for the first time since being dragged here. He already knows it’ll be no Alveare, but he’s in dire need of a strong drink.

He's not so stupid as to think getting drunk in a strange place is a good idea, so he'll just settle for one. Or two. As he works his way through one of the plainer beverages offered, he watches (read: rudely stares at) the others frequenting the bar.

Training Center

He eventually works his way down to the training area. Even if he doesn’t want to think about what’s waiting for him in this place, he can’t ignore the fact that he’s more comfortable around weapons and movement than the ostentatious luxury of the other rooms. He meanders around the stations, clucking his tongue in dismay at all the unfamiliar information and staring with childish amazement at strange weapons. When he reaches an area full of knives, he pauses and considers them all.

If he spots anyone else in the area, he’s going to quickly stride toward them, knife in hand. He doesn’t seem to realize that this isn’t a way people don’t really like to be approached—and despite his unimpressive size, he won’t hesitate to block their path if the ignore him.
“Hey. Where do I get one a’ these? To keep, I mean.”

Aside from the time he just spent in prison, he’s hardly been without a weapon since he first joined the Martillos. He keenly feels the absence of his knife, especially what with being stuck in an unfamiliar place and all. He wants to be ready.

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"Aye, just so."

It's definitely true -- even if the Pearl was the most like a home to him than any land or tavern ever could be -- as a good drink and companion for the night had always been a fantastic balm after any sort of rough journey at sea.

The mention of it being a prison, coupled with the look on Firo's face, makes Jack unwittingly lean forward on the counter with sudden interest and a furrowed brow. "I hadn't pegged you for the unlawful sort. On what crime were you sent there for?"

"If I told you, then I'd be relinquishing the element of surprise. Isn't it enough that I've told you enough to put you on alert." Tom grins a Cheshire grin that seems to have too many teeth, too many glints of knifelike light at the corners of his mouth.

"Tell you what. You survive the Arena, and we'll play a few hands. I'm sure in a place with stakes like these we can find something to wager." And Tom's taking it for granted that he'll survive the Arena.

Even if a smarter person might be wary of such interest, Firo decides it's better than the guy recoiling or writing him off right away.

"It's kind of a long story." He doesn't need to bother with his, admittedly very uninspired cover story, here; Huey can't have spies in this world, can he?

"They didn't actually catch me at anything I did, but this fed had a problem with my friend..." He falters again, not sure about how much detail about Ennis's crimes he should give. That's her business and that part of her life is behind her. "So I guess you could look at it as a trade. Somethin' like that."

He winces, slightly. He'd die before he gave up any secrets about the Family, but there's still something about cooperating with the law at all that's painful to him.

Firo frowns and mumbles, "Not if I'm already on alert." Considering all he's seen and the fact he just might occasionally cheat himself, he knows not to trust anyone at the card table.

Whatever they bet, Firo's sure it'll be unconventional and possibly dangerous. There's not too much he has to lose here, though, as far as he's concerned. "I'm game for that."

The pirate can see -- and hear -- the plain hesitation as Firo tries to explain his story, and scratches a nail at the side of his mouth. "Traded your place for theirs, then? That's quite noble of you." Although Jack hadn't missed the 'catch me at anything I did' tidbit to that. He's also curious as to what sort of person would elicit that much loyalty from Firo, but he can also guess.

Rather than prod further into the story and make him more uncomfortable, however, Jack decides to a fair exchange to make him more at ease. "I've been on the wrong side of a jail cell more than I'd like." A twitch of his upper lip. "Even so far as to have a noose placed about me neck."

Firo looks away, his cheeks faintly red. "'Noble's' got nothin' to do with it. Ennis is family." That was enough to make him go to hell for her, much less prison.

It does relax him to learn he's talking to someone on the same side of the law, though he flinches visibly to hear how close Jack came to execution. "You're serious? How'd you get outta that? Somebody's gotta be a real bastard if they wait that long to pardon a guy!"

Given all the security around Old Sparky, Firo can't picture someone escaping an execution at the last minute unless it were with a pardon or some other legal means.

Ah yes. By all accounts she could be a sister or mother, but the flush to Firo's cheeks says otherwise. A light smile tugs at his mouth. "Aye, just so. Family's family."

Then a wider grin at his reaction. His first instinct is to take all the credit for the obviously daring and amazing escape that'd taken place. But, at the same time, the whelp deserved some credit. Particularly since he'd stood so firmly by the pirate's side, defending back-to-back with him, afterwards.

"There weren't any sort of pardon, not like that." He waves both hands back and forth. "As a matter of fact, the lever had already been pulled and I was on me way down." It'd certainly been a close call -- and Jack had been so focused on the hangman's hand and the roll of drums, that the sudden stop to his descent had taken more than a moment to register.

"I had --" More vague hand waving. " -- help. From a friend. Associate."

Jack's guess would be right on the money. Firo, somehow, manages to think that nothing's been noticed and merely nods firmly in agreement. Family's the most important thing.

He runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head. As far as close calls go, that has to take the cake. "Your associate's got a goddamn crazy sense a timin', it sounds like."

Resting both elbows on the counter now, he leans in to pelt Jack with more questions. A hanging, even an averted one, hardly seems a pretty topic to dwell on, but he's really curious now.

"How'd you guys even pull that off? There had to be guards and all, didn't there?"

"Aye. He had an immensely grand sense of timing, among an assortment other valiant and, of course, noble things." It's said with what sounds like a good helping of friendly scoffing.

Jack was certainly grateful, in his own way, as Will was one of few that the pirate considered to be somewhat of a friend. But the brat had a tendency to throw a wrench in even his best laid plans, and so Jack had taken it upon himself to rag on him whenever the chance presented itself.

And, of course, it was also just fun to do.

"Oh, no doubt about it, a full garrison's worth of them, and all thirsty for the blood in which they thought was owed. Will -- that was the bloke's name who took it upon himself to help -- hurled a sword which managed, miraculously enough, to lodge itself into the trap door as it fell wide open. Gave me the opportunity to escape the bonds that bound me -- including the one about me neck -- and fight to the edge of the Fort, defending against all manner of attack by the Marines, and all with young Will in tow." There was only an ever-so-slight bend to the story, making it sound like Jack had done most of the work. "Once upon the edge I was able to escape to the ocean below and swim back to the Pearl -- waiting out at sea for me, with me loyal crew aboard."

Edited (clarification) 2015-03-16 08:49 (UTC)

Firo's still reeling from the thought of such a narrow escape. His eyes only get wider and wider as the story goes on.

"You're serious about all that? That's crazy!"

He should be skeptical, but he can't keep the corner of his mouth from quirking up into a smile of amazement. There just might be some admiration in there too.

"You fought 'em all off just with that guy's sword?"

"As sure as the gods see me and with all certainty." It's a good story in itself, even without too many embellishments added into it. And Jack always always loves himself an audience, so Firo's awed reaction brings a wide, genuine grin to his face.

"Aye, the odds were stacked, but I fought 'em off with sword and rope and me own natural-born cleverness and skill." Then Jack had promptly tripped over the ledge and plunged into the water below the Fort, but getting out of there and to the water had been his ultimate goal anyways. Still no mention of Will, too, and the extra sword the blacksmith had used to help defend. "And then I returned to claim me ship, the Black Pearl, after I'd lost it to treachery some years past."

It'd been a good day, in the end.

Firo's smiling to as he listens, completely taken in by this story--it's just like something Claire or Luck would have read when they were kids. Firo's usually not too picky with plot, but considering this is a true story, he does have a question.

"...Hang on, I thought you just said your loyal crew."

Had they retaken the ship from whoever stole it? He doubted the traitor had just had some change of heart.

"And if they were loyal, how come they were just waitin' around through all that?"

Sure, maybe they didn't know, but executions were always big in the news where Firo was from.

The pirate waves both hands at the questions, elbows still on the counter, then holds them up at Firo with fingers curled. "Were loyal, aye. Are loyal." No wait. "Were loyal, back then. But all still utterly loyal, now. I assume. And, for all accounts, the previously mentioned associate -- " Not crew-member, because Jack had left the blacksmith to fend for himself and his dainty damsel after this whole mess. "-- Will, was in on it with 'em. Figure it was better to go with the more clandestine method of attack, to send a solitary man in who could walk about without suspicion, than come with guns blazing and get themselves all killed. The benefit of the unexpected and surprise, and whatnot."

Honestly, the pirate hadn't expected his crew to show up at all. He'd practically given them amnesty to do whatever was needed, what with the issue of his capture being part of the Code. Any man who falls behind is left behind -- that's how it was supposed to go. He'd accepted it, his fate clearly sealed, once he'd realized that his crew had fled while Jack had been busy helping Will and Elizabeth take Barbossa down.

"Besides which, the lot of them had no obligation to rescue me. 'Twas, then, done out of the kindness of their hearts and love for their great captain."

"...Wow. Like a secret plan and everything."

Firo's not much good for those, but that only leads him to appreciate the brains involved in hatching one.

At that last remark, Firo looks Jack up and down. While the man doesn't have the quiet dignity and gravitas of Molsa Martillo, Firo does have to admit he's an interesting guy.

(And Firo's also incredibly biased towards Mr. Martillo considering he's the boss. That pedestal is hard for anyone to scale).

While he doesn't know the crew, he decides that Jack's assessment of their loyalty probably isn't that suspect.

"Seems like you bein' the captain and about to die and all would be somethin' like an obligation. Either way, sounds damn good that they came."

"And then you all just sailed off, no trouble?"

Yep a top-secret, carefully laid out iron-clad plan -- definitely (probably) not one cobbled together last minute and hinging on the fact that Will didn't get way too distracted making googly eyes at Elizabeth.

Because it wasn't like the rescue had been completely and utterly last minute or anything.

The pirate shrugs his shoulders. "Captain or not, there weren't no burden on them to do it. Part of the Code, the law, that we keep. A man falls behind, he's left behind." That's how it was, even though half the time no one kept to it.

The last question brings a grin back to his face. He could still feel that exquisite moment again, when his hand had touched back onto the Pearl's wheel after having been so many years out of his reach.

"Aye, sailed off into the open sea without much more difficulty." For whatever reason -- most likely to do with Elizabeth, that was easy enough to guess -- Norrington had held off for about a day. "Was only until later that the Navy took it upon their poor, damned souls to chase after us."

Firo nods slowly, dutifully noting down the mention of the Code. It sounds so different from the vows the Martillos kept to, but Firo could understand the sense in it. He knows that even Molsa Martillo would ask them to abandon him if it came down to it.

Firo grins. He has nothing personal against the Navy, but, hey, the bastards deserve some humiliation if they're going to go around hanging people. Especially a guy who seems pretty all right. "I woulda' thought they'd be faster about it--that had to be pretty embarrasin' for them."

"Aye, downright embarrassing, I'd say. The man that set it in his head to come after us came out the other side much more worse for wear -- lost his title, ship, an' crew in the whole mess."

Despite the fact that Jack held no real love for the Navy, he didn't exactly hate Norrington. Just what he stood for and who he stood with. Otherwise the man was making his way in the world, sure, just like the rest of them.

But that hadn't stopped Jack from getting petty revenge by relegating the former Commodore to lowly tasks and scrubbing decks and carrying around his shovels when they'd gone off to dig for Jones' heart.

"Damn, really?" Perhaps it's somewhat mean-spirited, but Firo laughs, clearly getting some enjoyment out of this. "That's--what do they call it?--someone gettin' his just desserts, huh?"

He's still leaning in attentively as he presses Jack to continue. "What screwed it all up for him?"

He really hopes it was Jack's ship. That'd just be too perfect.

He smirks at that. "Aye, that it was." Jack wouldn't hold it over Firo at all, as it'd felt good to see the man who'd tried to hang him brought so low and humbled. Especially because later on, Norrington had jumped right in bed with Cutler and decided to make everything in the world so much worse after they'd reclaimed Jones' heart.

"The man was obsessed in the venture, beyond all good sense. Sailed his ship into a hurricane in the pursuit and lost it all." He shakes his head at the stupidity of it. Norrington should've known better than that.

"Found the bloke filthy and washed up in a port town overrun with pirates and all manner of unlawful types, later on. Took him aboard me ship outta some sense o' pity for the situation." In actuality, though, he'd been one of a few unfortunate souls that Jack had been eager to hand over to Jones in exchange for saving his own skin.

Edited (used the wrong name) 2015-04-05 09:31 (UTC)

Firo snorts with something that's a mix of laughter and disbelief. "Geez... Wonder how he expected that to end for him."

Firo expects the story of Norrington to end there and raises an eyebrow in surprise when he hears the rest.

"Seriously?" Firo slouches against the counter, looking almost disappointed at the act of charity. And he doesn't think to question that it was a benevolent deed; if Jack's crew came back to save him, then obviously people would be happy to sail with him. What else

"Why'd you do that? Wouldn't it've been better to just let him rot?"

That would teach the guy a lesson. One that wouldn't really help anyone because he'd be dead. Firo doesn't seem to grasp the flaw in his logic as he stares at Jack questioningly.

"Sure enough, it would've been." He makes a face. "Almost did, truthfully."

He'd been half-tempted to leave the man to waste away in Tortuga, particularly because Norrington had just finished throwing a tantrum and flipping tables and pointing a gun at Jack. But there had been use in keeping him around, even if Jack hadn't planned for it to be very long.

"Found it of better use to put him to work -- made him polish me boots and scrub the decks and bail out the bilge from the lowest decks and the like." Any of the lowliest jobs that Jack could think up, he'd had him do. But hopefully that would be enough for Firo not to question further into the reasoning behind keeping a man like Norrington around.

Firo blows a piece of hair out of his eyes and nods, though a tad grudgingly. "At least he was useful at some point in his life."

He laughs and straightens up. "I don't suppose he'd thank you for that, though."

Firo isn't exactly in the habit of showing gratitude for humiliation either, so he can at least sort of understand that.

Jack snorts a laugh. "Aye, not at all."

He curls a couple fingers, lifting his hand. "In fact, in his everlasting gratitude for being shown such great mercy, the man stole a piece of treasure that rightfully belonged to me -- " Jack had found Jones' heart, had set the entire venture to retrieve it in motion in the first place, so obviously that meant it was his to have and no one else could claim otherwise. " -- drew his blade against me with intent to finish the job he'd failed at back at the Fort, and then set about a course of events that were trouble for any man that called himself sailor or pirate."

Pride of the King's navy, right? Stealing Jones' heart had been bad enough. Going to Beckett, of all men, with it? Nearly unforgivable.

"...No way. That rat bastard ever heard a' loyalty?"

Though if one wanted to look at it in a more logical way, the man may have just been being loyal to his original masters in the navy.

"He sounds like the crooked cops we got back home. They're happy to take your payoffs, but as soon as they can get somethin' better they turn on you."

Which wouldn't be a wrong way to look at it at all. In fact, Jack had expected some type of backstabbing or double-crossing from the man, because Norrington had always struck him as the sort of man that stuck like glue to his morals -- and working under the command of pirates was definitely not a good way of going about that.

The betrayal had just come at the most inopportune time.

But either way he'd done the former Commodore favor, really, sort of, so that'd scored him at least a little loyalty, hadn't it? He could've let nature take its course back in Tortuga, like his gut instinct had told him to. "Apparently not."

He shakes his head. "Way of the world, isn't it?"

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