maskormenace | 1st hunt

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1st hunt | video

[The video starts a bit awkwardly, with the shakycam and fumbling of someone who isn't very practiced at the art of video chatting. A late-20-something woman's face is up close, clearly trying to figure out "how does I tech". After some fumbling, the camera stills and she sits back, looking a bit awkward.]

Okay. So, I guess this is what people do here. Calling the Internet using cameras.

[She looks too young and modern to be so fail at technology.]

Anyway- hi. I'm new.

Let's just say I didn't go to the, um, shitshow today- Thank God... Let's say I'm not gonna register. Don't wanna put on tights and fight crime, or whatever.

What're my options? Learn to knit? [There are at least three (3) guns visible in the video. She does not look like a knitter.] Start a [air quotes] "blog"?

I can't exactly do what I did back home- no monsters to hunt. No day job to go back to.

I kinda don't know what to do with myself.

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[She contemplates him with narrowed eyes for a moment, assessing him. He seems sincere enough. Ish. At least, he's playing sincere with enough conviction to satisfy her.

She relaxes.]

Thank you.

[Part of her wants to explain her defensiveness, but she doesn't know this guy from a hole in the wall.]

What year are you from, anyway?

[Goodness, she has one heck of a glare. Jack's brows knit together with worry as she judges him with such a fierce scowl. Maybe he truly overstepped his boundaries here. This scene plays out similarly to how the Skywalkers grew tired of his antics. At least the husband isn't calling for his blood, yet.

Jack let's out a sigh of relief once Mary accepts his apology. Was he holding his breath the entire time? Certainly was.]

Ah? [The sudden question catches him completely off guard.] ...Seventeen forty-two, luv.

[He places his hat back upon his head and sighs.]

I know, I know. It's...quite some ways off, isn't it?

Wow. Yeah, no kidding.

[Holy shit, 1742?]

And I thought I had it bad. How completely out of place do you feel here, all the time?

[A humorless smile settles upon his lips when she asks.]

More so than one can believe. Despite all the splendors and wonders, I'm quite lonesome here.

[That's an understatement. A terrible one. Jack been hitting the bottle more frequently than before. He keeps hoping to awake from this queer dream.]

I don't miss the gallows, the scrutiny or the savagery but I do miss me crew and me ship. The Black Pearl is my home away from home.

[Her mouth twists in a dry, sympathetic look.]

I know the feeling- a little. I got brought back from the dead after 33 years. Doesn't sound like a lot, but technology kind of- well- the world changed a lot in that time. A lot more than you'd think. And my sons-

[S i g h.]

-You buy new clothes, you try the weird new future stuff, you get a place to stay, but... you still don't fit.

Thirty-three years is nothin' to sneeze at still. It's quite a ways off.

[Enough for anyone to feel alienated by this strange new world. The topic at hand is a touchy one. Jack tries his damnest cope by just drinking himself into a peaceful oblivion but it's not enough.

It's never enough.]

Sons, eh? [He frowns somewhat.] If it been thirty-three years, I suspect them both to be fully grown.

All that time gone within the blink of an eye. It's not right.

[A dry laugh leaves him as Mary literally calls out everything he've done. The new clothes, the weird futuristic gadgets, even the apartment all feel odd to him. Nothing reminds him of home. Absolutely nothing.]

I've never fit in anywhere except upon me ship with the wind in my hair and the wide open seas before me. It's odd being on land for so long, too odd.

That's why I'm fixin' me a crew and ship. I'm leaving.

But even if you leave, you'll still be in this world. The ship you get wouldn't look like the ones you remember. The rules aren't the same here. There are so many more laws and rules and regulations than you remember.

[That comment about her sons, about all that time gone- the conversation moved on and she didn't comment, but when he made it, it obviously landed. Her jaw tightened, her brow furrowed. Her voice is softer now.]

There's no escaping. My grown sons aren't here to remind me of what I've lost, but I don't have my babies back, either. Your Black Pearl isn't coming back.

[She pulls out a flask.]

[His gaze turns dark for a moment, wild even. He looks quite ready to shout at the heavens and curse out the Lord but he doesn't. Instead, he holds his silence for the longest of moments and just sighs. The anger that gripped him momentarily flashes within his eyes and causes that jaw of his to tense some.]

Even so, wouldn't it be best to try me luck while I can?

[He asks once he finds his voice again. The very idea of losing his beloved ship is like a dagger to the heart. Jack could feel that fear constrict around his very soul like a serpent. He can't imagine life without those majestic black sails and the soft rocking of her deck. It's enough to bring a tear to those angry eyes but Jack doesn't cry.

Much like Mary here, he drinks instead. A bottle of rum.]

I've lost her before, luv. And she always came back. I sold my very soul to ensure she'll come back.

[That earns an eyebrow quirk, and a filter. This is Serious Business, sir.]

Your soul? You sold your soul to a demon for- for a ship?

[She looks perplexed and a wee bit horrified. A demon. It's not a fate she'd wish upon her worst enemy. Well- her worst non-demon enemy.]

[Mary's sudden interest in his words doesn't go unnoticed but Jack hesitates to say anything further. He lingers in his drunkenness for a moment, his throat suddenly feeling parched all of a sudden and his tongue dry. Jack already killed Davy Jones and escaped the Locker. There's not anything that dead man can do to him. The Flying Dutchman has a new captain and all is relatively well.

If that be indeed true, then why does Jack feel like he forgotten something? As if he left loose ties untied? He sips his rum a little slower now as he contemplates.

This is a queer discussion but he already said too much to stop now.]

Not just any ship, my ship.

[He gives Mary a steely glare as if daring her to call him foolish.]

Lemme ask you something, luv. What ye know of Davy Jones?

Something about a locker.

Listen, selling your soul is never worth it. I know- I know demons make good offers, but... it's never worth it.

[She looks way too sincere to not be speaking from experience.]

You know more than any of the blokes here, that I can assure you.

[Jack kicks up his heels upon the table and leans back. He might as well get comfortable, no? This is looking like a lengthy discussion ahead of him. The pirate might be slightly inebriated now but he seems lucid still.]

I should've known better but I always been a problematic lad. [He states with an oddly rehearsed chuckle. The smile upon his sun beaten face doesn't quite reach his world weary eyes.] Too quick to leap without worrying about the plunge.

Davy Jones is a "devil" of a man, a monster the Brethren Court once summoned in ages past to fend against other devils just like him. I thought I could cheat the bastard and kill him once my thirteen years were up.

[His smile fades completely replaced by a near vacant stare.]

Oh, but my tricks caught up with me. That they did...tenfold. You know of demons well, don't you?

Edited 2017-11-13 02:14 (UTC)

[Brethren Court sounds like some kind of old-timey witch cult, or something, especially with the talk of summoning demons. Getting demons to fight other demons- maybe they bound him with a spell. Who knows. Mary wonders if he comes from the same world as her, just a few centuries behind.

Thirteen years is a bit odd, though. But the forced smile, the hollow stare- they ring of the bravado of doomed men. His story feels true.]

Yes. I do.

One of them- never mind.

You went to Hell, didn't you? All the legends end the same way. Your time is up, the Hellhounds come for you, and they drag your soul to the pit for an eternity of torture.

[Think less "witches" and more "pirates" and Mary got the right idea. They definitely have the makings of a lawless cult and hide themsleves within Shipwreck Cove whenever court is in session. Jack recreated his Piece of Eight too. It's the human bone upon the top of his bandana with the many Oriental beads and rings.

He's a pirate-lord after all.]

That I did or rather I ended up in a place quite similair to hell itself. There was no Hellhounds but there was certainly a bastard of a beast that dragged me down to the murky depths.

[A ghost of a smile forms upon his lips.]

It crunched my bones and tore up my flesh.

[Mary cocks her head. Hm. That doesn't sound like any crossroads deal she's ever heard of, but... the world is a strange place. Perhaps in the age of exploration, demons had different beasts that were more suited to the seafaring world.

That last sentence makes her grimace.]
I'm sorry.

But- what about Hell? Do you remember what they did to you?

[Softly, in the manner of speaking to a trauma survivor.]

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1st hunt | video

at least he knows when to back off...?

that he does! with his tail between his legs no less

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