entranceway | Log 001 // Video

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Log 001 // Video

[ Sometime between downing the last of his rum and lowering the empty bottle, the scenery around him had abruptly shifted. There was suddenly no tang of salt to the air, no cool breeze on his face, or the quiet bobbing of the dinghy over calm ocean waves. Nope. Instead, in its place, was solid ground, the warmth of indoors, the mild scent of incense permeating the air. And an immensely puzzled pirate captain, now presently sitting on the smooth floor of the Entrance Hall.

Jack took a couple moments to process this abrupt change -- glancing side to side with a furrowed brow -- then patted himself down to check that his effects were still on him. The network device was discovered thereafter, buried in one of his coat pockets. Jack let out a curious: 'oh!' and proceeded to investigate it, turning it over and sideways and around a few times. Then, for a couple minutes, he watched the network -- and all the strange voices and faces that flashed across it -- with a mildly perturbed expression.

Eventually it's by some miracle (AKA the random, accidental press of buttons) that the video is actually turned on. And then it's only mid-sentence, of course, and with half of Jack's face filling the entirety of the feed: ] -- bizarre contraption or somewhat of the sort. [ When Jack speaks, a couple words here and there are accented with a flash of silver from his teeth. The view shifts, then, and the pirate peers closer. Enjoy that extreme close up of one suspicious, squinting, kohl-framed eye, everyone. ]

Blimey. This is a dream, i'n'it? [ An expectant beat, then: ] Ah. Well o' course it is, what else could it be. [ The feed draws back, and one can see the corner of his mouth twitch, upper lip slightly upturned. Jack lifts the empty bottle in his hand, watching the last few drops dribble out. ] Not a particularly fantastic dream, mind you, given the most recent and appalling deficit of rum. [ The view shifts away to the ceiling of the Entrance Hall as he sets the device down, and Jack continues. ] Could be much better, too, really, with all things considered.

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[Hook's gotten much better with the device since he first got here. Now he's mostly in frame!

He's also wary. Everything about this man screams pirate and, well, Hook knows from personal experience that pirates aren't always trustworthy. Even when they'e got great eye makeup.

Still, it's worth at least learning who he is.]

There's more rum. If you know where to look, that is.

[Jesus Christ, why is his life so hard.

Why.

Here he's been Jack Sparrow free for what is a criminally short amount of time, left in peace and to his own devices, but of course it can't stay that way. Of course not. No, because he knows that voice, and he knows that stupid face and all his hopes and dreams are just crumbling around him and-

Really. Wonderland is cruel, and he knows it, but this really is the epitome of what it can do and it's safe to say that one Hector Barbossa is not best pleased.

There's a bit of annoyance, too, at the fact that there's Jack Sparrow, acting like he's never seen that thing before, nor been here before. He's heard of things like that happening, of course, but it's markedly different when it's someone he himself personally loathes. Part of him is determined to just hunt Jack down without saying a word and break his face, because he deserves it. He deserves it, because he left Hector there to deal with the stupid and then he comes back and acts like he has no idea what's going on.

And part of his wants to just shut the communicator off and not say a word, and consciously avoid the moron.

And another part, the part that ends up winning out, can't resist poking at him with a stick, because like it or not, Jack has returned, though whether he's faking the ignorance of his situation or not is up for debate.]

It's a communicator, you rum-soaked sot.

[Which should, of course, alert Jack to his extreme displeasure. He's more given to taking Jack's name and stretching it out to infinity in that patronizing manner he's so perfected, but the urge to hunt him down and break every bone in his face is still strong.]

I don't know what you're playing at, Jack, but you'll not be fooling me. [You can't con a con, after all. Rose leaps to his shoulder then, giving little screeches of glee, because she can very well see it's her favorite stinky person with all of the beads.]

Go away.

Edited 2014-04-30 03:53 (UTC)

Ah, I see that you're still alive.

[Damn it, she needs a good example of the dead coming to life and this isn't helping.]

Sober up.

[ You'll have to teach him to do this 'being in frame' thing, Hook. Because even right now Jack Sparrow is completely out of view.

And yet, somewhere close, you can still hear him casually respond: ] Really. And where would one look to find it, then?

[ No wait. Wait. Hold on. That was an unfamiliar voice, and it'd not only come from the little black rectangle with all the tiny people on it, but it'd responded to him. A couple seconds later, the view jolts upwards as Jack grabs it. He's still holding it a little too close to his face, sure, but that's still something, right?

He squints, and after a pause: ] You can hear me. How can you hear me. And bloody hell, how'd you find yourself inside this thing?

[ Oh. Oh. He'd know that cranky, cantankerous voice from anywhere. Both eyebrows shoot immediately downwards, because what, and Jack snatches the communicator back from the floor to peer at it closely.

Scraggly beard, scraggly hair, wrinkly face, sour expression. Ridiculously large, feathery hat.

Yep. That's definitely him. ]

Hector.

[ It's chiefly surprise, at first, that stains the tone of his voice when that name slips out from his mouth (~~and maybe a touch of relief because here's a familiar face among all this weirdness~~) -- and it's mostly because this is supposed to be his dream and what good one would include the salty bilge swiller responsible for stealing his beloved ship a second time.

The screech from Rose causes Jack to abruptly lean back from the screen, lower lip pulling down in distaste as he mutters: ] Monkey. [ But that's not the most important thing at hand. No, Jack looks back to Barbossa, eyes narrowed some and words spoke with an edge of ill humor. ]

Oi. What are you on about.

[ By the third time someone speaks to him from the communicator, Jack seems to have caught on -- at least a little more -- to how this works. But because of the way she words what she says, the pirate turns his head to the side and eyes her. ]

Eh? 'Still alive'? [ What's she talking about. ] Why would I not be?

Edited (it's too late at night) 2014-04-30 08:24 (UTC)

[ That is, in fact, exact opposite of what Jack plans to do. ]

Now what fun would that be, luv?

It'll bite you, be sure of that.

[Natasha happens to be using with her phone when the feed goes live, treating her with an extreme close-up of Jack's face, which gets a startled laugh from her, because while that's a familiar face, it's not one she personally knows and wow Wonderland, you do pull them in from all over don't you?]

I'm afraid it's not a dream at all. It's much stranger than that.

[The whole song and dance (not literally, thank God, that event is over) of a new arrival playing with their mobile and giving everyone some lovely close-ups of their face, well, it's normal enough that Martha barely blinks at it.

It seems that there's been quite the influx of people as of late. Wonderland wants to shake things up again, it seems to happen every few months, but when a voice comes through on her mobile, Martha double-takes.

She remembers it, that accented slur almost impossible to mistake for anything else. It's Jack Sparrow, the seaman she'd chatted with a few times, except he appears to have been reset just like so many others.

The least she can do is clue him in, and so she sends a response. Martha's seated at her desk in the clinic, an amused look on her face.]

You're not dreaming, believe me. And there are ways to get rum or whatever alcohol you might want around here.

[And here comes a bit of teasing.] It's good to see you again, Jack.

Hey, bro, glad to see you back!

[ Wait...okay, so being in Wonderland isn't a good thing necessarily, so she quickly tries to amend that greeting. ]

I mean as glad as anyone can be, I know you'd rather be sailing the seas and whatnot.

And how's that?

[ He wants to continue to dismiss it as a dream -- an extremely lucid and realistic dream where nothing went his way at all and his ship was still gone and there was no rum -- but one nonetheless. (Sadly, it's started to look less and less likely, and much more bizarre.)

But oh. Hi. Natasha will be treated to one of Jack's most charming smiles because oh hello lovely lady. ] Is it now? Do tell, luv.

[ Had this arrival been a day earlier, and the world would've been treated to Jack trying to finagle Barbossa into a lovely little duet. Or, at the very least, belting out a few shanties for everyone to enjoy. Alas.

The corner of his lip twitches. ] Not a dream, then. I wager that's just about as likely as not, eh? [ A shadow of a smile. ] Wouldn't be the first time I've found meself in some unusual or unfamiliar place. [ But the people talking to him from this 'communicator' thing? That's definitely a first.

Her last comment, however, causes him pause. ] 'Again', you say? [ His head cocks a touch to the side and Jack squints at her, raking through memory to try and place her. And ... nope. He has no clue who she is. ] It grieves me to say this, truly, but I don't believe we've met before, darling.

[ He suddenly lifts a finger, then, because this next bit is super important. ] And, if you'd please, luv, it's Captain Jack.

[And Hector's eyes just narrow, because you know what he's on about, Jack. He might be able to play the rest of Wonderland for a fool, but not this pirate. They've spent too many years trolling each other for that ever to happen, and Jack very well knows it.

But he doesn't say anything for a long moment, because he still wants to find Jack and punch him (and he's not going to do it, he's not, because that is a complete waste of effort because Jack never learns anything).

But he keeps quite a moment, mouth pressed in a flat line, while Rose finds the tiger fang hanging in his ear and puts it in his mouth.]

You know what I'm going on about. You've nigh been gone a month or so, Jack Sparrow, and left me here to clean up your messes. So don't you take that offended tone with me, mate.

Unfortunately this is no dream, unless I've become a lot less inventive and creative than I used to be.

[A small pause, as Eames smiles somewhat reassuringly.]

Though there is a bar here and the closets might be sweet talked into supplying rum.

[She's too blunt for her own good sometimes.]

Why, with you dropping off the face of the earth and a few bodies found, I thought you would be among them.

[Yes, this isn't creepy, at all.]

I'm not inside it. I've got one too. They're called telephones.

[He's not mocking. He's only recently learned about these devices himself.]

They allow people to speak to each other over long distances as though they were in the same room.

Go find out. There are plenty of ways to do that here.

[ This has started to become an odd trend. People seem to know him, which, in itself, isn't horrible at all -- because who hasn't heard of the marvelous Captain Jack Sparrow and all his infamous exploits.

But it's the fact that they insist that he's been in this place before that's troublesome. The last memory Jack had -- and this was truly only a few minutes ago -- was of setting sail towards the Fountain in an attempt to not only grab a piece of immortality for himself, but to reclaim the Pearl. None of this included being dropped into a mansion for any length of time. ]

Oh, that'd be quite lovely about now, aye.

[ He briefly pinches the bridge of his nose, but then takes a moment to peer closer at the communicator. A half-smile pulls up at the corner of his mouth, flashing a hint of gold from his teeth. ]

You know me, then, but it seems I've the great misfortune of not knowing you or your name. What can I call you, luv?

[ Stare. Staaaare. (He'd say wtf that's totally impossible but the proof of it's right in his hands.) ]

Telephones. [ The view rocks back and forth as Jack turns it side-to-side to inspect it a second time. ] Bloody hell that's amazing, mate. [ The feed settles back on him. ] Where would you be, then?

[ He. What. Gone a month? It'd been a mere few minutes ago that Jack had been aboard that dinghy -- sailing away with rum in one hand and his compass in the other -- when fate had taken upon itself to unceremoniously dump him on a floor in some unfamiliar place where people spoke to him through a little black rectangle.

The bite of peevishness that had initially shadowed his tone melts into something a little more akin to confusion, and Barbossa is treated to a full-on frown and furrowed brow. It's Jack's turn to wonder what exactly the other pirate is playing at with this, and why. ]

What? [ He lifts his chin. ] I have not. I've never set a foot in this place in me whole life, much less had time to make any sort of mess of it. You're addled in the head, mate, and not makin' any sense at all.

[~~Alas! Who doesn't love a good sea shanty?~~

Martha's not at all surprised by his confusion, that's completely natural. Honestly, Jack takes it in stride, better than most would, which is particularly impressive considering the point in time that he's from.]

Captain Jack, of course. [She bows her head.] And I'm Dr. Martha Jones, but just Martha is fine. [She's not one to get fussy about titles.]

We have met before, you just don't remember. That's the thing about Wonderland, it can take people's memories. You've actually been here before, we spoke a few times... then you vanished for a bit, and now here you are again. [Completely wiped. At least Martha's used to it by now.]

[Her own lips curve into an answering grin, dimple peeking out as she props her chin in her hand.]

You're in a place called Wonderland. It's quite a bit different from anywhere any of us have known. And most of us had no say in getting here. Magic, if you believe in that sort of thing. Probably even if you don't.

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