Some, some, some I, some I murder. [open]

[streetsmarts]

Who| Nick and oooopen
What| When you try your best but you don't succeed.
Where| D7, lobby bar.
When| Post-Arena, pre-Crowning
Warnings/Notes| Nick being a douche. Nbd.

Hell hath no fury like Nick when he wakes up in the Training Room. To get that close and lose by inches, inches of knife in you, it's soul crushing. The frustration takes some working through, but his methods have never let him down. Booze. Sex. More booze. Denial. If there's one thing he's willing to do, it's to absorb absolutely all of the luxury of the Capitol while he can. He thinks he deserves that much, but he's also pretty sure other people have different ideas.

He's a frequent at the Lobby Bar lately. He's perpetually rolling in, ordering rounds and glowering at the replays when he can. He can at least boast quite the featured face in the highlight reel, but it's a pretty miserable runner-up prize in his opinion. He can be found ranting at the bartender and denizens of the bar as well as trying to make bets with them long into the night.

Sometime in the night, he drags his sorry ass up to the District 7 suites. He can't rightly remember which bedroom is his, and he's not willing to chance it. He finds himself on the same couch he'd planted on when he'd first arrived here, and it's good enough for him. He sleeps the whole night there, half-heartedly smothering his face with a pillow as he snores into the morning. If nobody wakes him up, he'll wake himself up with a snort of disdain at the sun and a clumsy stalk into the kitchen to make coffee.

He'll stand there, looking incredibly disheveled, with a hand on the counter and a cup of coffee in his hand like he's an efficiently early riser and not red in the eye and dead in the soul. "Morning sunshine." He'll croak at anyone who happens by him, still just drunk enough to think his cover is foolproof.

Comments

[streetsmarts]

The fact that he's a pirate hasn't escaped Nick, and the idea would be more ridiculous if it weren't so much part of the concept here. They can pull anyone from any time in, so why not pirates?

Nick scoffs, but the dour look is soon replaced by something of a smile and he lifts his drink in turn. "That's the best damn idea I heard all week. You know what? I'll drink to it?" And he does. He takes a sizable draw from his glass and sets it down.

"Names Nick, by the way. How about you, Long John Silver?" God, please don't let that be his actual name.

[drinkupmehearties]

"Fantastic." Any reason to drink is a perfectly good reason for him.

In return, Jack downs a comparable amount from his own drink. The straight alcohol burns nicely and familiar at the back of his throat, and afterwards the pirate sets the drink back onto the counter with a faint clatter.

He taps a couple fingers to his temple. "It's Captain Jack Sparrow." Nick will be able to tell that Jack takes great pride in the name and reputation behind it, even if no one so much as recognized it here. He lifts a hand, fingers slightly curled and index slightly straighter. "The Captain part of it, that's an important bit to remember." Roughly three months in, with no ship or even sea in sight, and Jack will still continue to insist on that.

He furrows his brow, then. "Long John Silver?"

[streetsmarts]

It isn't difficult to pick up on the pride there, but Nick fails to look terribly impressed by it. As far as he knows, all pirates are Captains because they all have their own ships or whatever. The Capitol advertising on Jack doesn't help much in his exaggerated perception of him, but he'll at least nod in what seems to be a respectful manner.

"I'll remember it, just don't expect me to say it." He clarifies, knitting his eyebrows together before letting his face fall into something more neutral. "Famous pirate, you hear about him all the time where I'm from." He answers curtly. "Kind of picked up on that vibe a while ago. The pirate thing." He says, like he assumes it was meant to be a secret.

[drinkupmehearties]

"Mnh." It's a vague noise of acknowledgement in his throat, drowned out partially by another sip of rum. The unimpressed look from the man is quite familiar, the pirate had seen it a million times before. And Nick can insist on not using the title, but he'll quickly found out how much of a stickler Jack is for it. Annoyingly persistent, to most people.

"Haven't ever heard of the man. He mustn't be that famous." Besides, in his opinion, what kind of name was Long John Silver. A ridiculous one, that's what. But then there's a considering pause from him. "Or perhaps he's somewhat past me own time."

And it would've been a secret, but apparently to everyone else -- particularly Capitolites -- Jack's mere appearance was enough for people to assume he was one. And initially it'd made him cringe out of habit, because being accused of piracy, even associating with one by the point Beckett had exerted his control over trade on the sea, was as good as a death sentence back home.

But here? It was just a curious point of interest to people. And Jack didn't mind the attention, if it was that harmless.

"That obvious, eh?" He favors Nick with an amused grin. "It'd be true enough."

[streetsmarts]

There's a high chance Nick may begin using it with powerful sarcasm if only to avoid the nagging, but for now it's not a pleasure he's willing to grant. He's bitter and angry and even Jack's kind attempts at friendship won't win him that privilege.

"Maybe. I heard we aren't all even from the same worlds. As if time travel weren't enough of a freakshow." He definitely needs to take a long drink from his glass. This is all too goddamn bizarre, like it should be some horrible parody he's trapped in.

"That makes it sound like there's more to it." He thins his eyes curiously at Jack. "Are you or are you not a pirate?"

[drinkupmehearties]

"Aye, I've heard that too, strange as it is."

Different times, different worlds. It was hard enough for him to wrap his head around the technology this place had, or the fact that he'd been ripped away from home with it, much less that any of that was even possible.

The question earns a half-shrug from him, and Jack downs more of his rum. "Not that it matters much here, but aye. I was one, back home." He'd had a short stint as a legit captain for the EITC back in the day, too, but that was a different story. A flash of a grin. "Not much pirating to be done in this place."

[streetsmarts]

"I thought everything in my world was the weirdest shit I'd ever see, but life has a way of rubbing your face in how god damn little you know." Is he salty? Bitter? It's so hard to tell. He might as well be a bottle of tequila, actually.

"Figures you'd be trying to steal my crap, then." He scoffs, this is too fucking much. Literal pirates trying to swindle him? Maybe he just went crazy and nobody has the heart to tell him. "Maybe the next Arena will have some more water for you to fuck around in. I have a question, though, do pirates literally search for buried treasure? Does that encompass most of what you do?"

[drinkupmehearties]

"That's 'bout the way the world works, i'n'it?" He's seen his own fair share of weirdness back home, and it'd started to become easier to just accept that the world didn't always turn out the way one expected it to.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "It were more a matter of need, really, than it was being a pirate." Although it did help that Jack had no qualms whatsoever with taking other people's stuff if he wanted it. Even if he didn't need it.

"And mayhaps. Knowin' the Capitol, it'd be poisoned or full of some manner of nasty beastie more'n ready to make you its next meal." Case in point, the lake he'd found in the first Arena. He'd nearly been torn apart and crushed by the lake monsters in it, and that had been far from a pleasant experience. Not to mention that the water had been freezing cold.

"Takin' a ship's cargo for your own encompasses most of what a pirate does, mate. But aye, depending on the man and his inclinations, findin' treasure can be part of it. Though, it weren't always just men on the account that searched for their claim on hidden fortunes like that." Beckett had been one of those men; obsessed with finding a fabled island full of gold. "And, of course, most times, it was never a simple affair."

[streetsmarts]

Nick starts by snorting agreeably, but he's back to rolling his eyes at Jack. It's a companionable roll, at least. It's as if Jack has ascended from asshole scamp to loveable, asshole scamp. If only because Nick is desperately lacking in friends and alliances and he can't help being pleased that someone follows similar logical leaps when it comes to a little necessary murder.

"Oh, undoubtedly. But you'd be in your element at least. I feel like I'd do better if the next one was a city." He gives his chin a thoughtful stroke, imagining anything they could do to a city would still beat slowly feeling your feet freeze into blocks.

"That's fair. Guess that stuff doesn't make much of a story compared to Blackbeard's lost loot." He gives his shoulders a lazy shrug, a smirk growing on his lips when he does. "Sounds like a lucrative business. Piracy, that is. Does anyone ever just retire to bask in their riches or do you pirate until you die?"

[drinkupmehearties]

"Could be, you never know. Here's to hopin', eh?" He lifts his glass to the thought, then takes a long sip to finish it off. Honestly, anything would be better than freezing his ass off in the snow and nearly burning to death in a forest fire.

Jack chuckles. "True enough, it doesn't always hold a candle to the more excitin' and adventurous tales out there." He'd found that the duller details of a sailor's life were completely lost to people that lived centuries ahead of him, and most people tended to romanticize such a hard life to a strange degree. Eating weevil-infested hard tack and passing a boring night with drinking and songs wasn't too all together too interesting.

"Aye, a man could be set for life with what he's gained, provided he's able to live long enough to enjoy it. I imagine a few've retired with their fortune, but a pirate's life is a short an' brutal one."