dear_mun | Because, really, this is just getting out of hand.

Cast a net, find swans and jacks, bring them aboard.

Aye, which is exactly what we won't be doing.

You don't want them around?

No.

It's bad to lie.

Well, then it's a very good thing I don't lie, ain't it.

Wouldn't quite call a game a vacation, mate. In me experience, they be the exact opposite.

Yes, thank you, Jack.

I've been this route a time or two.

Though out of all of the places I've so unceremoniously dumped, this...Well. This one could be worse.

[Did he mention he has a gaggle of women that like to pester him and tell him how bad his fashion choices are? Because he does.]

[ He's always glad to add his, always needed, two cents.

And he finds himself inclined to agree with the ladies. Barbossa wouldn't know high fashion if it jumped up and bit him in the ass. ]

Aye? That be so?

[Of course, Jack's input is invaluable. That is to say; worthless.

But really, what would Jack know about fashion. He probably hasn't bathed since...Well. Since before he and Hector met, and he's willing to put gold on it.]

Surprised? It can always be worse, mate. At least here there's a sea, though ye can't go far. And closets as give ye what ye want, as long as it's not too specific.

Terrible food, though.

[ Weither or not he bathes has little to do with fashion, Hector. ]

...You've gotta sea?

[ That's definitely not longing in his voice you hear, God, what makes you think that, you're so stupid Hector, don't you know anything? ]

[Clean clothes are fashionable. And his are...Mostly clean. Well, were. And then he got bled on. And that is a story for another time. See also: Forced to play hero, so it never happened.

Oh, but doesn't that longing just sound so pitiful. Poor Jack.]

Aye, there's a sea. Enough like standing on the beach in Hispaniola it's a little unnerving.

[ Barbossa, a hero, ha! Don't make him laugh.

Jack takes two seconds, literally, two seconds, to close his eyes and take a deep breath, and just imagine what that must be like. Because the game he had been at had no sea. He was forced to stay inside, with artificially produced air for ten months. No fresh air, no water, no sea, no beach.

He would never, ever, admit he'd been homesick, except... he had been.

But two seconds, that's it, one two, and he's done, and the mocking grin is back on his face because he can't dare let Barbossa get the better of him. ]

There are better places t'be than Hispaniola, mate. Try space, eh? The ultimate adventure.

[Really, he can sympathise. He spent plenty of time in a tower with a sea, only to find out it - and his own body - was nothing but an illusion. It's a bitter pill to swallow. But all the same, such is life.]

Oh, aye. Read plenty about that, mate. There's a library here. And I know about cars, and planes, and television, vaguely. [He hasn't exactly bothered with it, yet. And still isn't aware that his and Jack's and everyone else's story are actually movies he can watch. But the coup de grace]

And then this thing called internet porn. Personally, sounds bloody pathetic, mate, but right up your alley. [Yeah...Blame Richard Castle for that one.]

[ He'd thought he'd found a sea, once. He'd been on a ship - his ship - but with sea monsters and the Kraken and undead skeletons attacking him. He'd felt the wind on his face and tasted the salt in the air. But he wasn't at sea, he was still inside his spaceship.

Fucking Silent Hill.

He waves a hand dismissively because yeah, he knows all about those too. But coup de grace his ass, because he can one up you on this one! He's been fourth walled. Several times, in fact. ]

An' movies, aye? You find those ones I'm supposed t' be in, eh?

Internet porn? [ Nope, he's not heard either of those words before. ]

Movies. About you. [Because slowly but surely he's learned what they are. He just doesn't see how they remotely replace a good book. Seems lazy and soft - most of the future does, if he's being honest.] And why would anyone, anywhere, give half a damn about Jack Sparrow, aye? Especially with those...Movies. I know what they are well enough, but you? Come now, Jack.

[He, of course, is unaware that his mun and Elizabeth's plan on making them watch them. Right up through the last. Because of that wig.]

Aye! Porn, I suppose it's referred to in the colloquial. [Thankfully, Wonderland doesn't actually have internet, so he hasn't been able to witness it himself.] Apparently, mate, in this so-called 'future', instead of finding yourself a decent wench and getting on with it, most people prefer to watch others. I suppose in the form of those movies, on something called the internet.

[ He's never seen his movies, of course, nor has he seen any movie. But he knows what they are, basically, and yes, he knows he stars in them. He's been recognized enough times without having to introduce himself. He's also been called "Johnny Depp" a fair number of times.

He always knew he was going to be famous in the future. ]

Aye. Me. Who else'd they make their 'movies' about, eh? You? [ He scoffs because yeah, right.

And you see, that's the second time tonight his mun has seen that Elizabeth and Barbossa might be in a game together and it's nothing but pure temptation.

But his brow furrows as he considers this 'porn'. ]

What'd be in the point in watchin' when you can just... get on with it, eh? I'd greatly prefer that.

[Thankfully, no one's called Hector anything but 'the pirate', yet, though he is greatly disgruntled about the notions people have about pirates in the future.

Seriously, has Jack seen the label on a bottle of Captain Morgan's spiced rum? (Which he does not recommend, it tastes bloody awful, compared to what comes out of Haiti.) It's like Jack and Chevalle had an unholy love-child or some nonsense.]

Well, considering, Jack, I think me own story be a sight more interesting than a gob who got himself mutinied. [Because, really, undead pirates! That's a story. Not the idiot who got dumped.

Please don't remind him Elizabeth is showing up. While his mun is an evil wench who enjoys his torture a bit too much, he, on the other hand, is less than thrilled by this development.

Even if the sea is nice, and honestly, blowing up microwaves - while accidental - is kind of amusing. Especially when the ladies come flocking, thinking poor pitiful Hector, let me cook for you.]

And that were exactly my thought. [He snorts.] Apparently it's about the 'fantasy'. Because it seems men are sackless in this future and nary know how to just ask.

[ Jack would prefer to be called 'the pirate' over and over to being asked if he was a pirate numerous times. He's beginning to think people in the future have no idea what pirates even are. And if that's the case, it's no future he wants to be part of.

Even if that future has movies based on him and his adventures. ]

People've got stories written about me even now, mate. [ And by even now, be means the 1740s. Even Elizabeth had read stories about him! ] Only makes sense they'd take the best stories and make 'em into their movies, eh?

'sides, mate. Ain't you ever wondered how I got off that bloody island not once, but twice?

[ Answer: He's Captain Jack Sparrow, that's how.

And come on, mate. If you're going to be stuck in a place far, far away from home, some familiar company could be nice, eh? Besides, Elizabeth isn't the worst person who could show up, let's be real. ]

What's the point in fantasizin' when you can have it?

[ And yes, that's the philosophy Jack lives by. ]

[On that, he and Hector can agree, because the questions he's been asked are flat out ridiculous. About buried treasure, whether he's met this pirate or that pirate, or pirates that he's never heard of. Either way, it's been a fat lot of rubbish, and he's absolutely sick of it. And he's been asked plenty if he's a pirate, as well. Because of the way he speaks.]

And every bit of it be a lie. [Because, seriously Jack. It's not like he doesn't know about the sacking of Nassau port. And he knows how you got off that island. Twice. Because he's been told how.

And really, he's not the slightest bit surprised. He should have killed you to start with.]

Aye, so I do. You can thank Miss Swann for...Filling in the gaps, as it were.

[And yes, Elizabeth is horrible. She's horrible, and Jack very well knows she's horrible, and with no one else (he'll take Pintel and Ragetti, honestly) it's going to be that much more so. Because there's no one there to share his misery and pawn her off on.]

Aye, that be my question. But apparently these weak little things from the future be afraid to speak what they need. Can ye imagine, then.

[ On one hand, it's sort of a good thing, really, not being recognized as a pirate on sight. Because it would have made things a lot harder back home, if they could be immediately recognized as a pirate within mere seconds.

But on the other hand, honestly? He's known people with brilliant minds, who were able to do things Jack Sparrow hadn't even heard of, looking at him very seriously and sincerely asking if he was a pirate. There's a line to be crossed, between knowing you're doing something right and ridiculousness, and that line had been crossed long ago. ]

Not every bit. [ He looks a bit offended at that, really. After all, there's a difference between fiction and reality and Jack merely... stretches the truth just an inch.

And now he simply looks disgruntled. ] I never liked her. [ Which is not the truth at all, but at this moment, it's absolutely true.

He tries to imagine, he really does. What it must be like to be honestly afraid to speak about the most basic of bodily functions that you have to resort to watching moving pictures. He screws his face up in serious thought as the thought refuses to penetrate his brain. ]

Er, no. I can't.

[And whether they're intelligent or not isn't even the issue here. Barbossa takes issue with the fact that his own accent - which in no way denotes anything but where he was born - has apparently become synonymous with 'pirate'. So even if he intended to keep it a secret at first, well...That cat is long out of the bag.

A bit annoying, really.

But at Jack's protest there's only a look. After all, he himself has been there for some of it. Jack seems to have forgotten that. And he very well knows a good bit of any of his stories is pure dumb luck, and nothing but.]

Aye, well. It were certainly more entertaining than the one you apparently spread around. Sea turtles? Really, mate?

[But yes. This is apparently what the future is going to come to, fantastical exploration of space and technological advancement. He considers it a moment, giving the tiniest of sighs.]

Honestly speaking, the future seems like one great disappointment. They can't even get food right.

[ Perhaps it's not the accent, but rather the specific words they use? He has noticed that most of these People From the Future don't use an overabundance of words like "aye" and "belay" and other such words.

Which still doesn't make them pirates, but rather, seaborne.

And the implications of that upon the future make Jack doubly certain it is not a place he would never like to be.

And it's not all dumb luck. There's a good bit of intelligence and planning. And by planning he means split second decisions and improvisation but I mean, that's practically the same thing. ]

Was not! My story was plenty interesting! It's hardly my fault you've no taste.

[ Because even you have to admit sea turtles sounds better than I waited three days for the rum-runners. ]

What've they done to the food? [ He frowns, wary now. Because the four things he cares most about are: The sea, rum, women and food. So while it's not a top priority, it's still up there.]

[Nope, the accent. He's already asked. Something about old movies and some guy being from Bristol, just like him, and how that ended up being the norm for future pirate tales.

Really, it's vaguely insulting.

It's dumb luck, and Jack knows it.]

Your story was a lie.

[But really, on to the more important things. And this, for Hector, is a very important thing. You spend ten years unable to eat anything, only to end up in a place where the food makes you sick for weeks on end before you adjust to it.

Spoiler: Poptarts are neither tarty, nor do they pop.]

Can't say for sure. Something called 'processed', and they list the ingredients, right on the package, but most of 'em be long words as make no sense. But it's bloody awful, mate, stayed sick for three solid weeks after showing up.

It's saying things like that that get people interested.

_{[ sword fights in hallways? hell to the yes. ]}

Well, then it's a very good thing I have no inclination of doing any such thing, isn't it, Jack.

[Because really, he'll just beat you, and you'll whine, and he'll have to kill you and...Well, it's messy all the way around.]

Inclination or no, my mun's a fan of Wonderland and now she's intrigued. Which she might not have been, had you not brought this game to her attention.

_{[ excuse you, apple boy, no one ever truly beats jack. jack wins at all the things with ridiculous logic that may or may not make any sense.

... lbr it probably makes no sense. ]}

Well, your mun's interest or not is hardly my problem, mate. Me own has me spread thin enough in three with a fourth in consideration, I can hardly worry about who wants what, can I.

[What is making sense Jack just doesn't know.]

It is your problem, mate, because if we're not too careful, she'll be sending me there.

_{[ sense is just. too sensical. he'd rather just see where everything goes and how it all ends up. you know, luck and all that. ]}

Well, let us both hope for your sake, she doesn't.

[Jack, look at your life. Look at your choices. Drunk and lucky is...Well. Actually a very good way to go through life. But annoying.]

You'd have better luck losing your footing walking the plank.

_{[ it's ok to be jealous of all of the things jack's achieved, barbossa. he's pretty badass. ]}

Oh? But I really think otherwise.

[Delusion is a powerful thing.]

You can keep thinking otherwise and I'll continue to think correctly. That way we're covering all of our bases.

_{[ it's more fun than reality. we're proof enough of that! ]}

Jack...Jack. You've never thought rightly a day in your life.

[That's a matter of opinion. Call him when you have teenage boys hero worshipping you and women pestering you at every turn.

If one more person suggests he needs new clothes, or throws a pie in his face, or tries to entice him with porn, he's getting stab-happy.]

There are... fleeting moments of clarity before the fog of forgetfulness ebbs its treacherous way back, certainly.

_{[ not a whole days worth, though. though really, trusting anything jack says tends to have some sort of ill effect for the trustee, so perhaps you should take everything said with a pinch of salt.

have you ever stopped to consider that said people may be offering said porn as some sort of strange gesture of good will? ]}

You've never had a clear day, either. Known you entirely too long for you to be handing me that.

[Believe him, he knows better than to trust Jack, because the last time ended with him being shot and dying. And he's pretty fond of himself, thank you.

And he has, but it's still pathetic, isn't it?]

Thankfully not. Sobriety seems such a waste of otherwise perfectly good drinking time.

_{[ as well he should. though you'd think they would have moved past their differences, what with Barbossa saving him. but then, pirates will be pirates.

not to mention pathetic. ]}

Because, really, this is just getting out of hand.

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