driftfleet | April System Mingle

[...Alright, maybe he can start to see where Jack had gotten cuddlesome.

Rip really doesn't need to long to jump on the notion of escape. He might normally be opposed to a jailbreak with someone he only just met, and a self-confessed thief at that.

But the food probably is pants, and Rip's got no desire to suffer for the sake of orderly queues.]

Lovely thought, but we might have a few problems to consider first. [For an obvious first? Rip shakes his hands, making the cuffs jingle.] These, then the guards, the tasers they're apparently carrying, the locked door--

[Really, Rip's not opposed to the thought! It's just the how that's not immediately apparent.]

The opportune moment will come -- that I'm sure. It always does.

[The cuffs ARE a problem. But...]

First things first, eh? Any chance you'd mind cozying up to my backside? I could do yours, and then you could do mine.

[HE'S TALKING ABOUT UNDOING THE CUFFS, BACK TO BACK.]

[ w o w ]

Is there anyway you could've made that sound more torrid? --No, wait, don't answer that.

[Because it might be yes.

Rip huffs out a sigh, but since he does get what Jack meant, he'll shift on the bench to turn away from the man.]

Rip Hunter, by the way. [He looks over his shoulder, scooching back towards Jack.] Since we're apparently about to get rather close.

Captain Jack Sparrow.

[He scooches back the other way, fumbling for the other man's cuffs.] I've got a bit of iron up my sleeve. Keeps the fairies away.

Or that's what I tell 'em.

[Mostly it's to pick locks in this very situation, however.]

I reckon you hail from the Fleet? You're not orange.

Good to know you've come prepared.

[Yeah, Rip's pretty sure it's not for fairies at this point. Little to do about it, however, considering he's already agreed to the jailbreak.

Well. Aside from trying to maneuver his cuffs into Jack's hands.]

Indeed, though only as of yesterday. [Congrats, Jack; you're officially partnered with the newest guy around.] And what of you? Does "Captain" mean you head one of the ships?

Of the Black Pearl, aye -- but none here. Cap'n Cersei's Captain of the Bishop.

She's terrifying. Loves stitching things. Gorgeous. Stab you in the heart.

Oof.

[He's got one of your cuffs open, Rip.]

[He's rather good at this, isn't he? Unfortunately Rip really isn't, so it's going to take him a bit longer. With that thought in mind, he turns around with the cuff still dangling from one wrist.]

We'll worry about the other one later. [He says by means of explanation for the sudden movement. He plucks the iron bit from Jack's hand, casting a weary look towards the door before turning his attention to Jack's shackles.

Especially since he doesn't know exactly what he's doing. At all.]

--Sounds like I should be glad I was assigned to the Caprine. [Particularly considering how often people wind up punching him. Although the description isn't entirely unfamiliar, save for perhaps the sewing.]

She doesn't happen to be blonde, does she? [Really, it's just idle talk while Rip works, but he can't quite keep himself from asking.]

[Jack gets punched a lot, too. Punch-friends?]

She is. But I know a brunette that could probably take her on.

[Elizabeth Swan vs. Cersei? Hmmmm...]

[Perhaps it is meant to be!]

The one I'm thinking of is blonde too. Someone from home. [Someone who probably would have had the locked picked by now, bloody hell why is this so complicated?] A woman you truly would never want to make an enemy out.

[And who has, by coincidence, punched Rip in the face. Twice.

Oh, but there's a click as he continues to fiddle with the lockpick! Clicks are good, right?]

Mate -- I feel your pain. Did she join the Fleet as well?

[Because that could be awkward for this poor fellow. Jack knew that type of woman well. Angelica, after all. And...why is this cuff-picking taking so long? BUT THEN A CLICK. Jack makes like Taylor Swift and shakes it off!]

Brilliant!

Edited 2017-04-17 01:01 (UTC)

No. She is, thankfully, exactly where she is meant to be.

[Because as much of a comfort as Rip might find Sara Lance's presence to be, he's not inclined to wish this upon her.

(And not only because she would never let him hear the end of it if she knew Rip had gotten arrested.)

But now all talk of their respective blondes and brunettes ends; Jack is free, thank goodness.]

We've likely got two minutes at most before the next round of guards--so I truly hope you've got a plan.

Aye!

[It might be a bit unexpected when he shouts.] GUARD! HELP! HELP! BEES! BEES!

[More than a bit. Rip starts to hiss out an insistent demand to know just what the hell Jack is doing--but it dawns on him:

The guards would be able to open the door.

Huh. Well then.]

--Right, yes. Massive bees! Threatening, angry bees!

[And sure enough, here they come.

Guards. Not the bees.]

GETOFF! GETOFF ME, BEES!

[The guards are starting to hurry, now. Jack is whacking at himself, at Rip, at everything with his hat.]

NAUGHTY BAD BEES!

[Frightened, the guards shove the keys in the lock. Someone calls for a hose. Shouting and confusion reign. Now all Rip and Jack have to do is charge out and give everyone the slip.]

[Clearly Jack is nothing if not enthusiastic about all this, dancing around and lashing out with his hat (which earns him a sour look from Rip, for the record, because really? Really?) And it would seem to pay off, as the guards frantically work the door open. Now it's just a matter of working their way through the mass of bodies and confusion, and they'll be able to slip out—

But wait. What was that about a hose?

Rip has almost made it to the door, which puts him squarely in the line of fire when some terrified guard turns on the spray. He's not expecting the solid impact of water that hits him dead on and sends him stumbling back. It's as much out of shock as it is force, and Rip lets out a startled cry as he's suddenly soaked and smacked in the head once more with a pirate's hat.]

Would you bloody cut that out?! [Hard to tell who he's shouting at, given that Rip's got his arms up to try and keep the water from getting in his face. Spoilers? He's yelling at all of them.]

GENTLEMEN! [Jack roars. Overreacting to bees had been the start of the plan, but he'd never counted on a high-pressure hose.] You're drowning my cellmate! He's dying!

[He hops nimbly over an advancing guard, snatches a sword from an unsuspected gawker, and lunges for the hose, which he neatly slices apart. This sends the hose wildly swinging around and basically soaking everyone to the point of knocking people on the ground. It's the perfect opportunity to run.

Ahead is a hallway. At one end, the advancing shadows, noisy footsteps, and clamor of more guards hints that reinforcements are coming. The other end is quiet. Jack runs toward the quiet end, expecting that Rip will either follow, or make his own way out, or perhaps continue to be incapacitated by water.]

I am NOT dying! [Dear lord, Rip Hunter is a bloody Time Master from the twenty-second century, or he was, and either way the point is that he is not drowning just because they've gotten a bit happy with a hose.

So there. :|

That doesn't mean, however, that Rip isn't thankful when the spray is a bit less directed. When he can finally look over to see the source--well, it's really hard to say, given the chaos still unfolding. But Rip does catch sight of Jack's rather distinctive form dashing ahead, and far be it from Rip to lag behind.

Even if he is completely drenched. And has to punch a guard who manages to grab hold of the blasted cuff still dangling from his arm.

The point is, he does follow, and quickly at that. Rip's got speed on his side--squishy boots full of water, yes, but that's not going to stop him from getting out of this bloody place.]

[Jack can hear the other man's footsteps on his heels. Beyond that there is a lot of shouting, and shouting is good, because it means confusion and, at least for the present, a lack of effective communication and response. That is all certain to change, unfortunately; the jailers will collect themselves and come at the escapees in force.

That's one reason why this quiet corridor is so worrying to Jack. There are no windows -- only darkness -- and he is starting to think it's not a terribly effective way out.

But there's no choice but to keep going.]

I know you didn't really really die, but you impersonated it quite well, mate.

[He slows down once he catches up to Jack, which affords Rip the opportunity to look around--at least, as much as one can when faced with a darkened corridor. He frowns, quickly coming to the same realization as the other man has.]

About as good an impression as you did of looking like you knew where you were going. [He doesn't mean it unkindly, exactly, but look. He really didn't need to get whacked by Jack's hat, okay.

He looks back towards the path behind them; the shouting may be good, but it likely won't be long before they're being chased down.] I really hope you've got some talent with that sword, Mr. Sparrow. We're likely going to need it, assuming the guards don't just decide to taze us first.

I'm just hoping there's some outness to this corridor.

[He pauses and pulls out his compass. In the semi-darkness he can just make out the needle's swing.

Way out way out way out way out way out.

The needle points first in the direction they were heading, then swings back to point back toward the shouting pursuers, then back in the first direction again.]

Seems one way's as good as another, but dunno, mate. Don't like this way.

Outness would be preferred, yes.

[And then Jack does something Rip really isn't expecting at all. It's more than a bit hard to tell just what he's pulled from his pocket, given the dimness about them. Worse, whatever it is doesn't seem to give the man much confidence.]

Unfortunately, it's either this way or fight our way through a significant number of guards, all armed. [And while in the best case scenario Rip finds himself able to confiscate a weapon of his own? He doubts they'll be any more willing to ask questions first than they had been the first time he'd been arrested.]

Let's press on. [And Rip steps forward to do just that.] Perhaps if nothing else, we can lose the guards in the dark and backtrack once they've decided to search elsewhere.

Alright, then! [The pirate is swift to continue down the dark path ahead.

Strangely, though, as they pass beneath an ornate, arched doorway, the sounds of pursuit begin to die off behind them.]

Do you smell somethin', mate?

Aside from wet leather?

[Except even as he mutters the bitter commentary, Rip knows Jack's right; there is something, a scent he can't quite identity. The doorway offers no reassurance either. Rip pauses a step back, squinting his eyes to try and make better sense of it in the dark.]

What in the world is this place?

[Wet leather does smell kinda gamey.]

It's a place we probably should not venture into, is my guess.

[The pirate sniffs. The smell is definitely coming from the doorway. The ung makes a nervous sound inside his shirt.]

My ung is quivering.

[Well maybe next time someone should shout about something other than bees.

Whatever misgivings Jack has, Rip begins to get a sense of the same at mention of the poor creature tucked away in his shirt. Certainly instinct is far from the most reliable thing one might opt to make a decision based upon, but—

In this case, there is enough hesitance to make Rip reconsider their options.]

Going back the other way most assuredly means fighting through the guards. [Which had been their reason for pressing on to begin with. Still, he offers it as observation, not counter.] It'll hardly be easy to accomplish--but I've been in a few scrapes before.

[Even some while he'd been drenched.]

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STOMACH FLU KILLED ME SORRY I AM BACK NOW

Re: STOMACH FLU KILLED ME SORRY I AM BACK NOW