driftfleet | April System Mingle

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.]

[An enticing smell suddenly wafts from the dark doorway. It smells like warm apple pie and murder. It makes the pirate both want to walk through the door and run away as fast as he can. He takes a sidling step toward the black opening.]

You're far too soaked to fight, lad. We should just take our chances with the pie.

[As pleasant as the fragrance is, for Rip it merely cements the notion that they should go any way but. The coincidence of them turning away from that opening only to be tempted back in is too much for Rip to accept at face value.

Although it would seem the opposite stands true for Jack.]

I've fought through worse. [Although water-bogged clothing would make it that much harder. Still, Rip's got a fair bit of quickness on his side--like when he reaches out to take Jack's upper arm after that first step.]

I really think we'd be better off against the guards, Mr. Sparrow.

[From the direction of the guards, then, comes a blood-curdling shrieking roar of something big and hungry. Maybe hungry for pie. Jack doesn't know. He doesn't care.

There's a swift and purposeful clicking, as of many insectoid legs striking the stone floor, carrying some giant multi-segmented centipedal monstrosity right toward them.]

Bugger. That's no bee, mate. Not guards, either. And unless it's terrified of soaked Rip -- unlikely -- it shall gobble us into its mandibles.

[Jack makes another step toward the Door. He'd so much rather face the Pie.]

--What in the bloody hell is this place?

[Really, between ominous doorways and bakery scents, and now overgrown insectoids that have apparently been unleashed all in the name of defending the queue, Rip is more than ready to be outside once more.

And as Jack surmises? Better to face the pie than that.

He releases his grip; at this point, there's no further hesitation.]

Right. Let's not stick around to find out, shall we?

[Running now. Towards pie and murder.]

[This prison is curiously guarded, it would seem. Escapees end up with the inevitable choice of facing the rampaging giant house centipede or whatever is beyond the darkness of the Door.

Jack runs beside Rip in his own flourish-filled sashaying way. Runs, that is, until the Elderly Woman blocks their way. She is orange, like everyone else on the asteroids, and she is holding a pie in each hand.]

Erm......hallo, madame. We're just...tryin'....there's a giant bug, you see.

[The old lady doesn't speak. She just looks at them both, then points at Rip. When she speaks, it is in a querulous old-lady voice.] I choose you.

[At this point, Rip isn't at all convinced that they aren't still back in their cell, now both twitching helplessly due to being tazed, and all this mess is some sort of ridiculous nightmare concocted by his electricity-addled brain.

But of course there's an old woman now blocking their path; of course. Why wouldn't there be, at this point?

Speaking of points. She points. At Rip.]

--Right. [He turns towards Jack, and even goes so far as to rest his hands on his hips, handcuff still dangling down.] There's pretty much no chance that this just means I get to take a piece of pie back with me, is there?

Because it does smell delicious. [Spoken to the old lady now. He expects she'll be trying to kill him at any moment.]

Now you shall marry my daughter. [The old woman croaks this command.]

Erm...look, missus. We're not the marryin' kind, us two. Mostly we're trying to break out of prison and potentially eat some of that pie. Not marry!

[...And with those few words, Rip suddenly wishes she were attempting to murder them.

He very wisely doesn't point out that Jack actually isn't entirely right. Rip has in fact been married once, happily so, for just over ten years. However, he's not looking to change his status from widower to anything else at the moment, so.]

Indeed, as, ah, kind as your offer is, I'm afraid my friend and I will have to politely decline. Now if you'll excuse us, we are in something of a hurry--

[Especially since Rip suspects there will be a massive bug-thing on their heels at any moment.]

My daughter will mate with you. Then, she will devour you, and her offspring will crawl the length and breadth of this asteroid belt!

[The old woman begins to laugh, so hard in fact that Jack has to rescue one of the pies so it doesn't smash on the floor. He helps himself to a slice. Behind him, there is bug-leg-clicking.]

[In between mouthfuls of pie:] You know, lad, you COULD do worse around here...

April System Mingle

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STOMACH FLU KILLED ME SORRY I AM BACK NOW

Re: STOMACH FLU KILLED ME SORRY I AM BACK NOW

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