(no subject)

[buyatoaster]

What is this, lady?

I've been off the air for five years. Five bloomin' years, and don't you talk to me about that charade with the scarcely clad psychology graduate. That's after my 'canon point', as you would put it. See? I speak your language. No wonder, as you've moved me into your head.

Don't know what I'm doing here. 's full of goody-two-shoes and bits of skirts I'm not allowed to look at 'cos they'll take my head off with their Japanese friggin' swords. Is there anyone in here I can have a drink with? Apart from the vampire? He's wearing lace and drinking something even I can't identify. Heretic.

Anyway. You've put me in here, now you've got me. Don't come crying to me if you realize you don't like it. To put it in words you might understand: you want a guarantee, buy a toaster.

Comments

[buyatoaster]

Well, 's the same country, innit. Country changed its mind eventually; seems a shame it should've done it so late. [Slightly awkward, as he explains this. He feels like it should be obvious, but he's aware that not everyone relates to the law the way he does. So this is somewhat uncertain terrain.]

[But yes. Leaving that subject behind. That whole interlude left him feeling a weird kind of thoughtful. He wouldn't mind moving on. Which he'll do by narrowing his eyes and tilting his head.]

Break the wha'?

[stem_the_tide]

[Sigh.]

The fourth wall. A term of theatrical origin, I believe; it means that here, we are aware of our own fictional nature.

[buyatoaster]

Aware of our what?

[Tilting his head, eyes narrowed.] I don't know about you, but I'm not bloody fictional.

[stem_the_tide]

[More sighing. Don't make him think too hard about this; it makes his head hurt.]

Then who precisely did you think you were talking to?

[buyatoaster]

Talking to when?

[You're just talking nonsense at him now. He has no clue what you're on about.]

[stem_the_tide]

[James is not facepalming, because he is a man of iron will. But he will pinch at the bridge of his nose, faint lines carving themselves around his eyes.]

The lady whose head you've moved into.

[He is very pointedly using Gene's words, as those are certainly not the ones he would have chosen.]

[buyatoaster]

Oh. [He shrugs.] Was talking to her. I talk to my landlady; doesn't mean I'm Philip Marlowe.

[Seriously. You're being ridiculous.]

[stem_the_tide]

Does your landlady have the ability to determine what you say or do? Or put you into one of those so-called 'games'? It's hardly the same thing.

[buyatoaster]

My Super has the ability to determine what I do. Can send me on assignments anywhere he wants; still doesn't make me a book.

[stem_the_tide]

Your Super?

[Also, stop using language he doesn't understand. Seriously.]

[captjacksparrow]

Hear, hear!

[Raising the bottle in a toast. The notion of being fictional - he does not comprehend nor approve of this idea, no matter what James is saying. It's disturbing and wrong.]

[buyatoaster]

That a thing with him?

[The ridiculous notion that he's fictional?]

[captjacksparrow]

Never seemed to come up before. [That he's been aware of. It's as startling to him as it is to you.] Then again, there are times, gets it into his head to believe absurd suppositons about the world. Thinks about things over-much. [His boyfriend is a little strange like that. He's sure you know the type.]

[buyatoaster]

Ah. [Slight nose-wrinkle.] Know the type. Nothing good ever comes of that, over-thinking.

[Eying James.] Don't really have to worry till he starts yelling at toilets, though.

[captjacksparrow]

Mm. Thought you might. Too many of them similarly afflicted in the world. Make it all too complicated. Life should be kept simple.

[And he will keep philosophising at you except--what? Yelling at toilets?] Erm. What?

[buyatoaster]

Mhm. [Nodding.] Toilets. Bathrooms. People think they're alone, y'know, but they're not. There's always someone in the stalls, and even if there isn't, someone'll walk in. You want to have some sort of psychotic breakdown, never do it in a toilet. Unless you want people knowing 'bout it, of course.

[captjacksparrow]

[These terms mean nothing to him, you must realise. But he understands the over-arching theory if not the practical details.] Habit of society, isn't it. Always people when they're least wanted or convenient.

[He should know. Sometimes he is that person. He takes great personal pride in it. Which makes him laugh, a private joke he has no intention of sharing, before sobering again, eyeing you a little dubiously.]

That, er. A risk? [Psychotic breakdowns in public places. It never occured to him that it might be, but then you might know better. Should he be on the watch for James to start inexplicably yelling at things?]

[captjacksparrow]

You're not making any sense at all, mate.

[stem_the_tide]

[God, his head is starting to hurt.]

I said nothing.

[captjacksparrow]

Did so.

Believe it went along the lines of, aware of our fictional nature. What's our doing in there, eh? He's not fictional. M'not fictional. Have it on good authority you're a bit more physical than fictional. [With a bit of a leer. He's not had sex with fictional people. ...Mostly.]

[stem_the_tide]

[Mostly?]

This conversation is going to get uncomfortably metaphysical if we pursue it any further, you are aware of that.

[captjacksparrow]

Always enjoyed the metaphyiscal, when there were opportunity for it. Unless you're reckoning you're not up to snuff. [If he challenges you into explaining, will you? That comment was a curious one, and he'll not give up now until he's worked out what it meant and why. You know how stubborn he can be. He's a match for you.]

[stem_the_tide]

[Give him a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose, smoothing his fingers up along his brow and over the lines of tension there.]

You are aware that... our existence is facilitated through our writers.

[captjacksparrow]

[You really take these things far too seriously. He'll make that headache up to you later. Possibly. If he remembers and feels prone to being selfless. After all, you bring it on yourself a bit, going around stating statement like that.]

[And he doesn't even have anything to say in response to that. His expression should say it all.]

[Until after a long, long moment, with utmost dubious, sceptical appreciation licking through each syllable in the word, drawing it out.] Facilitated? [No one facilitates his existence but for him. Looks after himself, does Captain Jack Sparrow. Always has, always will.]

[stem_the_tide]

[James will lineface back at him, all thin lips and lines of frustration (and possibly confusion, because it's really not as if he's an expert on this topic) between his eyebrows.]

Facilitated. If you further explored this... community, [he says the word with the air of someone who's been given a translation for a word into a foreign language and has to take their word that it means what he thinks it means] you might find other versions of yourself. And... myself. Evidently. Theoretically.