Hardly a curse, now is it? I love fireworks. And parades.
Makes me think of Singapore...

Now if only the day came with bath houses, whores and opium dens, eh?

Year of the rat, after all. Seems only fitting.
Myself, I was born in the year of the cock.

Alright, you bloody swine, first to provide me with a proper ship fit to sail will be rewarded handsomely. I've been too long in this fetid port and you bore me. It's sickening.

There are some among you worth my time, by margins. Miss Tia, Evey-dear, Sheldon, Georgia, Rose... So many of the rest of you are little more than noise. Do you hear yourselves? Lord, you go on. Whinging and mewling like diseased cats and baying for all the attentions your little woes can ply. Suckling at the tit of your fellow citizens' sympathies? Pathetic.

A new year approaches. I do hope you all resolve to improve yourselves.

Now, as to the celebration of said rolling over of the year.. My lovelies. My dear hearts.... Lord Sparrow could use the attentions and company of some sweet bed warmer. You will not regret it, I assure, and shall be handsomely compensated.


[ooc: Jack's least favorite curse? 'Path not chosen'. This is a different path he experienced last time the curse came round. What if Jack had never left the EITC and just followed along in the path of his good friend Cutler?]

Well now, this is an interesting curse. Enough to lead a man out to the streets, I should think. Kissing is not something I often make habit of, but I'll make an exception today. Haven't much of a choice, have I?

I'll be out seeing to errands and whatever else may come up, eh?

[OOC: Jack will be wandering the City and looking for attractive people (primarily large breasted women and men who look like him) that happen to be near mistletoe. Have fun.]

Almost adorable, Sparrow. The way you cower and shake. I'd not have suspected you of being so easily 'spooked', if you'll allow me a terrible joke.

S'not fear in the least, mate. 'M freezing is all. An' that wasn' funny in the slightest, but much improved from your humor in life. Well done. Whot're you 'ere for..... Are you 'ere?

Yes. This is not another of your no doubt 'countless' hallucinations. I would venture I'm here due to a life littered with regrets, but that's speculation and really no good to come of it... As for my presence here, specifically, well perhaps you're my hell.

I've 'eard many worry that may be their fate. Never thought it would come to pass for any.. Or perhaps you've just been sent t'keep me company, eh, Jamie? Come t'learn life lessons from Captain Jack, 'fore you continue into the 'ereafter? Sit, Commodore, that jewelry looks cumbersome and doesn' suit you at all.

*sighs* You are as infuriating now as ever... The question, Sparrow, is why are 'you' here? You've been handed a rare second chance at life and it brings you again to this place? And have you yet made plan of escape? Have you even tried? Jack... Your judgment of character and choice in companionship is as dreadful as ever. You're going to rot here, Jack. Where is your ship? Where is your freedom?

I've plans! What would you know, eh? I'll not only be free of this place, I'll 'ave real immortality. I intend t'live forever, Jamie. That would be worth even a lengthy stay in this bizarre sort of limbo.

Is it? Would eternity be too much, then? Hmmm, Sparrow?

Who's that? I'll not be ganged up upon! SHEL! SHELDON!!!

Oh dear... 'Ello, Beckett. Good to see your chains are heavier than mine, at least.... Jack, lower the gun, it'll do you no good and you look foolish.

Do shut up, James. As in life, you're accomplishing so little here. And Jack? You'll never be back to your ship or your sea. You'll stay here drinking their liquor and hopping through the beds of the inhabitants for the short remainder of existence. So ends the 'immortal' Captain Sparrow: died land-locked as a drunken, thieving whore. At least it's a position with which you're familiar.

*The sound of a pistol firing.*

Bugger

What did I tell you? Now you've put a hole in your wall. Probably upset the neighbors as well. Perhaps if you shot the rum bottle I could share in it. Once it's dead. ... Dear lord, I'm thinking like you now.

... Shut up, Jaimie.


*Bitter laughter*

*Signal cuts out*

I gave it all up. Tossed away my life. Became what I'd sworn never to be.
It was all for her. Because she was mine. The first ever truly to be mine. So magnificent as to pass her own glory onto me by proxy. I did it all because she belongs to me and I to her. Two pieces of a greater whole and the both made lesser without.

I did it because I am captain of the Black Pearl, whatever that may entail. If her captain must be a pirate, then that is what I am.

Even at sea, I've not gone this long without having my manhood sunk to the hilt in some sweet bit of flesh or other. I've grown weary of hearing no when I'm damned clever enough to see that the desire is mutual. Of course, alternatives abound. It's not as if I am without copious opportunities to have my dick wetted.
Tell me, lovelies, which of you would fancy a bit of play with Captain Jack? Don't you be shy now. Two or three at a time suits me well. I'll teach you secrets of the orient.

[Private/locked -- hackable]
Hector Barbossa has a woman --one both young and beautiful-- who loves him. This city is wrought with madness, but I find that by far the worst of it. The man's a traitor and a devil. Surely the girl's some manner of imbecile or otherwise soft in the head. I'll bed her before I find my way free of this place. Have her for my own and anything else that bastard holds dear.

For the child's own sake, I do hope Elizabeth's son takes more stock from his grandfather than either parent.
[/Private]


[OOC: Jack will be out in the city today when he runs out of rum. While out, he'll pick-pocket anyone who comes near, steal what he needs rather than buy it, and if you should look weak but wealthy, Jack will rob you at pistol point. Enjoy.]

Tia, love, I do believe your attentions are in immediate need by a very pregnant woman who is soon to be rid of that condition.

Find Lizzie. She needs you.

[OOC: Jack has gone out to find Tia. He left this notice on the network in case she sees it first, but he won't be around to reply to it much.]

I rather fancy being shackled and bound. Leastwise, when it's more a matter of pleasure than business. Savvy?


Much as I hate being compelled to such silliness, I do enjoy watching you lot during these curses.


[OOC: For those curious: Jack hates giving up his secrets and privacy on these curse days, so he tried to fight giving away anything people didn't already know. Of course, since he is effected, this has backlashed so that he is occasionally confessing small things at random in conversation.
Also! I am bored and I know I'll regret doing this, but: art suggestions?]

I woke to the scent of smoke. I thought for a moment it had followed me from my nightmares. Seems I was mistaken. Bugger.
I'd hoped the slight scent of burnt flesh had at least been imagined.

What's afoot, then, eh? Was there some manner of explosion? Are we under attack?

Everyone's behaving a bit oddly again, aren't they? Theories are being tossed about on what the nature of the day's curse might be, and perhaps they're correct. But if you are living a life different than that which is true for you, how would you know? Surely your memories would seem real enough. It's a bit like trying to assure yourself you're dreaming before the dream is ended, savvy? No one to listen and no one to tell it. Leastwise, not with any surety.

Think I'll keep a wary eye out for those acting strangely and wait for this mess to pass.

[OOC: Jack Sparrow never went to sea. Instead of rebelling against his father by becoming an EITC captain, he simply never became a captain at all. He finished his schooling and is a humble cartographer. He does remember coming to the City, the circumstances were just different]

This machine seems familiar, but this place certainly is not. This is not my ship, nor any port I've known.
Has anyone seen The HMS Raven or Captain Hathaway?

Lord, this is odd. There is an odd sense I've been here and there are people and places I should know well, but it's all a bit of a blur.

The door tried to bloody eat me.

I've not the slightest idea how to make this bar give me rum.

I do not like this curse at all.

Send help and liquor.

... Why must everything make so much noise?

I don't know why so many are complaining about yesterday's curse. Wasn't so awful. Mind you, I prefer the luxuries of a well stocked bar and a cook to prepare my meals, but it's only an inconvenience to do without. Avoiding dangerous animals takes a bit of experience, but I do manage. No reasons others shouldn't be able. As these curses go, that was mild.

I fear it may have been a bit more difficult for my dear brother, now that he's returned to the City, but he's a smart man. He gets by. I'm sure he wasn't eaten by anything.

With all this talk of law and order being brought down upon us. Elections for a --what are they calling it?--warden. All that sort of mess. It brings to light that I've been wasting much of my time here this go round.

To see things set right: Where is my ship?

With that search set to motion, I suppose I should also inquire what festivities are planned for All Hallow's? If I recall, you all lean towards fancy dress parties for the occasion. I rather liked the last I attended in the City. You ladies do go all out. Charming, if delightfully lacking in modesty.
I suppose I shall even go so far as to don a costume myself this year. Any suggestions? I've always rather enjoyed disguise.

I love to hear what people think of my plots, characterization, and rp in general! Hold no punches, I can take it. I want full and honest opinions on my playing and will also answer any questions you might have about my background for Jack and my interpretations of events not covered on screen.

Feel free to reply anonymously if it's easier, but don't feel it's necessary. I won't hate you for honest criticism.

Jack awakened with his wrists in shackles in a dark prison cell. Light leaked in across he stone floor from a crack in the doorway. The glimmer of freedom had him immediately working to free his hands; dislocating and folding in his thumbs and spitting on his wrists to help in pulling his hands free.
As Jack worked, a doll in a small, wheeled toy boat rolled into view in the thin sliver of light. The puppet was a strange and ugly thing. It made him uncomfortable to look at it and it only became worse as it began to move it's mouth and seemed to speak in a deep and hoarse voice.

Jack tried to look anywhere but at the thing, and it was then he noticed the enormous glass tank in the darkness. It was full of what seemed to be dark and filthy water, but the scent carried to the pirate captain and he would know it anywhere. Rum. Why so much in such a large container? What purpose could it serve? The puppet rolled to a slow stop. bumping into a small end table, getting Jack's attention once more. Not that Jack was ever able to stop listening to that thing's horrible voice.

"Hello, Jack. I want to play a game.

I would say "Captain" Jack, but that is a title of authority, respect, and responsibility. In your hubris, you've come to believe you even deserve it. Maybe you did, once.


Jack Sparrow, you gave up a respectable position and an honest living in one noble act of heroism. However, you've used your loss as an excuse to take on a life of wickedness. You silently blame every good deed you do for the failings in your life, ignoring the fact you walk through that life blind drunk on rum or numb with opium. Chemicals which are also just an excuse, aren't they?
But as a 'Captain' you're afraid to show your "crew" your real weaknesses. Other people are just there to be used and not a real part of your story. You can't let anyone close to the real Jack Sparrow, because there isn't one. John Teague, the hero, drowned in rum years ago.

You say you want freedom, Jack? Today, freedom comes from freeing others. Don't let liquor blur your view of that.
There are several keys at the bottom of the tank. Each unlocks the trap of another lost soul in this city. Free them. One trapped citizen holds the antidote to the poison that should be taking effect in you now.
There is a syringe on the table. It holds heroin, another poison from the poppy like opium. It will numb your pain and even slow the speed at which the poison kills you, but it will also slow your mind.

Live or die. Make your choice."

As the thing rolled away, Jack finished pulling his way free of the manacles and hissed at the thing. There was a pain starting to seize his head and chest. He had been poisoned before, but with no idea what was now in him and nothing at his disposal but his shirt and trousers, he was helpless to do anything about it.
He ran across the cold floor and pushed the cell door open, but that would do nothing to save his life. In the improved light, he went back and dove into the tank. However, the position meant it still didn't get much light at all. It was impossible to see in the tank and opening his eyes burnt terribly, besides. The bottom of the tank had several keys, but it also had several loose razor blades. At least the liquor cleaned the wounds as they were made. He filled his pockets with the keys.

Bleeding fast from the hands and feeling every organ in his body cry out in pain, Jack dragged himself toward the exit of the room. As he stumbled into the small table and the syringe clattered to the floor, he picked that up and pocketed it as well.

He tried to help people. He truly did. Jack even managed to free a few of the trapped. He went from trap to strange trap, babbling increasingly incoherently to those he tried to release. He must have sounded as drunk as ever.
Finally, he could take no more. Jack stabbed the needle into his vein and let the heroin kill the pain the poison as causing. He slumped to the ground in relief.

The heroin overdose came on quick after. It was terrible, but brief.
The other poison in him never would have killed him. It would only have worn off. But Jack couldn't wait. He couldn't trust another to save him or go without using a dangerous drug.

[ooc: I realize this is late, but I was so busy and didn't want to miss the curse day]

tthe fates are swweeet this ddday!1! IT may not be rumm but theeres ale running fre in the Citty

ii may welll; drwon butit will be the besst ddrowning yet!!

Whhoooo is fitt to drinnkk with me!?!?! COMPETITION!!

ladiess?? care to offfer companny?

What if there truly is no place left for me?

When I truly want for so few things, why are they so damnably difficult to hold on to?

Why am I yet sober so late in the day?



[OOC: I'm aware I could have simply posted "why's the rum gone?", but I've taken the creative high ground. To hell with all of you! Don't you dare judge me! lol]

Oh, bugger...

Not this again.


[OOC: Jack has just pulled himself from the water onto the shore.]