[Action]

[abidinglaw]

[After having shown his face little over the past few days – probably a joint consequence of not wanting to catch whatever Jack had and wanting even less to be press ganged into holding his bloody soup spoons – Norrington begins this morning absent from his bright and bedless bedroom. He wakes with the rising sun for a rousing stroll on the beach. On the way back, with Cullen house lit by the crisp light of morning, he recalls the recent ice storms and all at once he has a goal for the day. Assess the house for damages. If any housemates are home they might just hear some curious scrapings on the exterior of Cullen house, the occasional bangings, but most ominous of all will likely be the prolonged intermittent silences. Never you mind. It's probably just a woodpecker.

Later in the day he'll be in the village proper for the first time in days and days and days. The item shop is a high priority, and he spends a long time there scrutinizing things with narrowed eyes and a chin cradled in the crook made by his thumb and index finger. Later still, he'll be stopping in at Good Spirits for the sake of overhearing village-gossip. He'll even politely clear his throat behind one or two people in aid of this noble goal. It's amazing what a brief absence will do for a man's social skills.]

Comments

[ action ]

[herotypical]

[ one blonde bartender -- the lady one, with the cool powers? -- stands behind the counter at good spirits.

when she notices the admiral, she waves. ]

James! What can I get you...?

[all7seas]

These are the kind of bangings that are just intermittent and arhythmic enough to plunge a man into madness. They occur at the least opportune moments: just when Jack Sparrow is bringing a mouthful of Buffy-made soup to his lips,

Bugger!

or closing his eyes for a nap,

OH FOR THE

or trying to balance a mug of hot coffee on his knees.

OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH BOGGIT BOLLOCKS OUCH BOLLOCKS!

Loud, shouty, thumpy bangs.

And then...then...then the silence.

...

No more bangs?

.......

BANG

...............................................

What was that cracking sound?

.....................

AND ANOTHER BANG. And more silence.

....

Some


odd






tappity tap tapping? Tappity




Tappit--









tip tip tip tap scritch scritch tap








BANG.




Right. Now? Now there will be Retribution Moste Foul.

Jack throws down his borrowed copy of Cosmo, vacates his sickbed/couch, pulls on his boots, and locates a broom. It's time to deal out a little disturbing-the-peace justice.

He will be very carefully sneaking around the house, hoping to catch the admiral unawares and teach him a lesson about brooms and how they can be used to beat a man who will insist on banging at odd intervals.

[flickerflash]

[It's very hard to concentrate on graffiti-ing all over her attic walls when there is such curious noise coming from outside. Perhaps it's a burglar who doesn't know how to use a door and is intent on breaking through the wall with a spoon.

Look, you never know.

Either way, she's quite sure Jack is still inside, and so after a few minutes of listening, Katie lets herself out onto the roof and peer over the edge to find the source of the noise.]

[abidinglaw]

Maybe the banging just sounded louder and more jarring from inside the house where bangings and scrapings had no right to be. On the other hand, maybe he coincidentally happened to have calmed down a little just as Jack came brooming his way around the corner. The admiral was testing the structural integrity of a series of panels of exterior siding. After gently taptaptaptapping he tucked the handle of the hammer under his waistband and set to running his fingers over the edges, feeling for cracks and fissures. Jack, so far, went entirely un-noticed.

[all7seas]

Jack ducked back behind the corner and wound that broom up like Mighty Casey up at bat. At the very least he would give James Norrington a bristling that the other man wouldn't soon forget.

Slowly he began creeping closer to the admiral, weapon raised and at the ready.

[abidinglaw]

[James Norrington certainly doesn't know. He doesn't have a spoon, though, at least not in his hands. What he does have are his hands on his hips while he scrutinizes this side of the house -- and very intently indeed. On the floor beside him are a number of tools which would usually be put applied to the hull of a ship. His eyes are working their way up the wall. No doubt they'll reach the roof soon.]

[ action ]

[abidinglaw]

I am not here to drink.

[He said, only afterward realizing that saying so probably worked directly against his attempt to dissuade further questions. In fact it probably seemed as though he was inviting them. Who comes to a bar not to drink? So he has socially obligated himself into a corner in very little time at all. That corner is remarkably counter-shaped. He grumps in that direction and takes a seat upon a stool.]

[herotypical]

Who comes to a bar not to drink? Besides, y'know, me. I come here to work.

[abidinglaw]

Ah yes. There was evidence of damage here. No doubt a rivulet of rain had found its way into a small crack in the wall here and frozen, thawed, and frozen again, widening the gap by slow degrees. It would need patching. Could he caulk the side of a building? Probably. The admiral had a stylus pinched between his lips and a short roll of paper at his hip. He removed the one now and made a scribble on it with the other.

[abidinglaw]

Did I...--

[--ask you about what you were doing here, Miss Summers? But perhaps that would have been a little too rude for so early in the conversation. Hmm. A distraction then. He has a rucksack slung over his shoulder - a new acquisition. He sets it down now on the stool beside him. It is zipped up tight, so whatever he is carrying within is kept deliciously concealed.]

Did I say 'not here to drink'? I meant not here to drink anything too strong. Perhaps an exotic fruit juice.

[A smile. He seems pleased with himself -- and why not? Disaster averted.]

[flickerflash]

[Those tools are somewhat familiar after having lived here for some time, but why he'd use them on the house... well, all sorts of possibilities spring to mind. Some of them are quite fun.

Katie is content to be spotted, though she makes no sound until he actually does see her. Then she shall just be direct.]

What are you doing?

[all7seas]

Closer. Closer. Of course, he couldn't broom the man without some sort of challenge. And besides, that scribbling piqued Jack's curiosity. The pirate stopped with the broom still in the ready-to-attack position.

"So we're banging today, are we?"

[herotypical]

...You live in the Caribbean, right? Don't you already have the cornerstone in exotic fruits? Unless you're looking for some kind of exotically not tropical fruit. But then -- what's the point?

[abidinglaw]

[Norrington has been at this for some time, so to his eyes it seems that she may as well have teleported there. BAMF. Like that. Children. Still, he meets the sight not with a startled shrieking, but with a slight widening of the eyes and a severe raising of the eyebrows. He has seen this young lady about the house, but he has never gone out of his way to speak to her. What would he have to say to a child? No more than he would have to say to a cat.]

I am seeing about refitting this house with sails. Evidently.

[The answer is delivered so straight, he might well be telling the truth.]

[abidinglaw]

Bwuagh! Surprise pirate! Norrington turned abruptly and with remarkably well cobbled-together focus almost managed to make his stylus seem vaguely threatening with the severity with which it was suddenly brandished. When that split-second of battle-readiness passed, he did not drop his stance. The man had a broom. His voice may have been in something of a high register when he countered:

"A good bit of banging -- passes the time."

Wait.

What?

Damn.

[fleurdesel]

[It has become something of a custom, her futile search through the clothing, weapon, and items stores for a familiar scrap of leather, an engraved handle, the sheen of oiled metal. Today, as every other day she's tried, Adele has little luck. But she searches all the same, hoping for some kind of closure or sign that her revolver has appeared in Luceti. She's trying to reach a strap of leather that looks like it might be her shoulder holster from the angle below, but at her height, and the height of the shelf, she cannot quite manage it. Even on her toes. She rocks back down on her heels, huffs, and crosses her arms, looking to one side for a step stool and sees...Admiral Norrington. Asking for his assistance would not be too far out of the question, would it?]

Good afternoon, Admiral.

[abidinglaw]

Papaya.

[herotypical]

"...Papaya."

[all7seas]

"It does, doesn't it? A most wondrous way of passing the time. Regular visits being paid to Miss Sheena's tea shop, hmmm? Understood, mate, understood.

D'you know what else passes the time? Eh? Me. Me thrashing you soundly with a broom for carrying on that infernal OTHER sort of banging and making me spill boiling hot coffee on my tender yet fierce inner thigh region."

[abidinglaw]

Miss LeBlanc.

[He might have offered his assistance, yes, but from their earlier conversation she seemed a capable woman. He would not wish to patronize her. Nor would he let it be known that he observed her distress. Her dignity was at stake.]

[fleurdesel]

You have been well since the invasion of your beach, I take it?

[A furtive glance to the left, then right. No step stool, chair, ladder, or other climbing implement was present. She was not so foolish as to risk climbing the shelves proper, but. She frowns back up at the strap, hanging so close, and at the same time, so far.]

[abidinglaw]

With any luck there would be less banging around the house for a good few days, then. A victory for all involved.

"I am certain that Miss Sheena - whosoever she may be - is a worthy and respectable woman."

He must look quite the fool, mustn't he? Perhaps if he could snatch at the hammer-- but to do so would be to leave himself open. He'd need to wait for the right moment.

"And, moving swiftly on, I rather think you should be thanking for my contribution."

The admiral gave a gesture toward the house with his free hand, but sadly he did not manage to sweep that hand low enough to dare to grasp at the hammer.

[abidinglaw]

"Papaya."

--in confirmation.

[all7seas]

"Contribution? OH, you mean your contribution to Things That Threaten Jack's Sanity Today? Aye. Without yourself, that list would be very short indeed."

But his attention was captured by the gesture and he frowned as he observed the damage done by the weather. The broom, however, was not lowered.

[herotypical]

"...I'll -- uhm -- have to check."

Papaya.