James Norrington

OOC: In the unlikely event anyone from Poly still has this journal friended.

Sun, 15 Jun 2008 22:53:39 GMT

I intend to have a bit of fun with it. Please defriend as you see fit.

Ta muchly.

Is this some sort of a curse?

Thu, 21 Feb 2008 08:17:47 GMT

Because if it's some sort of an hilarious joke involving breaking into my quarters and leaving this for me, then the person responsible will feel either the flat of my hand or the flat of my blade, dependent upon their age.

I am well aware that I am a citizen of His Majesty and see no reason to carry a card to inform me of it.

Voice Post, as usual.

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 20:20:45 GMT

Curse over? Everyone alive and with all appendages? Splendid. Don't remember much of yesterday, but I think I may have been deeply in love with our horse, which would normally be very curious, but not in relation to the usual events of this particular locality. Luckily, I didn't see fit to declare this to everyone, nor did anyone see fit to declare me the father of their child.

Thank goodness.

A curse eh?

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 22:45:24 GMT

Or tell me, do some of you normally all spend the day ranting nonsense like utter cretins?

Of course this boy is an alien: Not only is he from a foreign country, he's from a foreign country in another world.

Thank heaven for sane, reasonable company.

[[ooc: Space Aliens? In my 18th Century Character's vocabulary?]]

Well, I never.

Sun, 10 Feb 2008 17:38:20 GMT

Princess Ananova, I must apologise profusely for my lack of contact with you or, indeed anyone yesterday, but whenever I tried to step outside my quarters, some nitwit challenged me to a duel. It got a little tiresome after the fifteenth time, so when I finally managed to escape through a not-too-easily-visible window and go to see to the care of poor Equus it was all I could do to keep out of everyone's way. See, Roberts, is it?, my kindly horse-donating friend this is the sort of curse I'm used to. Madness and horror and all that sort of nonsense.

And Mr Kent, are you quite all right? Was that you who said "Leave me alone, I'm just a regular human" when I knocked on your door to ask if I could borrow a yard brush, or was I cursed and also quite mad yesterday?

Voice Post

Thu, 07 Feb 2008 19:50:34 GMT

[[in the background, sounds of fumbling with buttons and fireworks going off in the distance]]

Ah, there we go, it's working. Good Day, or possibly Night, I can't tell, to you, gentle citizens. Suppose my luck involving the curses couldn't hold out any more, eh?

Now, does anyone happen to know where there may be suitable stabling for a very kindly donated thoroughbred grey gelding, approximately fifteen hands? It's ra...

Stop it, Equus, old fellow...Equus, I insist that you stop eating my hat at once.Oh, for goodn...

*click*

[[Sitting outside Building Six wrapped in a blanket in the dark and watching faraway fireworks, whilst keeping a slightly skittish horse (which is still called Horse, you may note) from Florin calm through the bangs and flashes. And also not eaten by anything.]]

Good morning all.

Wed, 06 Feb 2008 18:19:04 GMT

No curses yet? Splendid.

Private to her Royal Highness, the Princess Ananova. Hackable, but you're unlikely to find it terribly interesting.

Your highness, I have an idea, if you will. This polite fellow appears to wish to be rid of a horse, and I wonder if we might perhaps both give the animal a good home, and also add to your teaching repertoire if we gave riding lessons?

Voice post.

Tue, 05 Feb 2008 20:57:31 GMT

Manacles removed (thank you, Sparrow), a decent bath, a reasonable set of clothes, and much improved (thank you, terribly helpful people at the church).

And I even found one of my old tricorns from the last time I was here (fewer thanks to whichever friendly fellow threw it on a rubbish pile outside my old quarters and forced me to give it a bath as well as myself).

Well, city, bring on your curses. James Norrington is ready for you.

First order of the day was finding myself new quarters.

Second order of the day: Making myself useful. Employment appears to be the option here: I am possessed of the following curriculum vitae, should anyone see fit to hire me

Considerable skill in the arts of fencing and swordsmanship.
Mathematics and geometry.
Reasonable dancer, although you shan't catch me in a reel.
All the usual tomfoolery one gets taught at finishing school in addition to useful sorts of things like the command of a ship: Polite french and german, the classics of Latin and Greek, though I confess to not paying a great deal of attention to Seneca or Horace. No more, lest I blow my own crumhorn, as it were.

EDITED TO ADD: Belay that request, ladies, gentlemen and otherwise, I appear to have been kindly offered a position.

[[ooc: Now residing in Building Six, apt. 142.]]

gOOD mORNING or evenng pssibly,

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 21:03:39 GMT

i think ive worked out how to USE THESETHINGSAGAIN. ithasbeen rathe a while thogh so PLEASEFORGIEV THE MSTAKES.

now. does anyonein this accursed city i once again find myself inHAPPENTOH AVE ANY Smithing tools orpossiblysomeungodlypowers capable of MELTINGSTELEEEL (withoutharmingflesh prefeably? I seemtobesomewat encurmbererered.

[[ooc: He's from the eighteenth century. You expect him to get the hang of a mobile phone again quickly? Currently wandering the streets of the city looking for familiar face.]]

Does anyone have, or know where I may obtain....

Tue, 15 Aug 2006 07:34:30 GMT

Some decently coloured wallpaper, and a deal of proper oak furniture? Possibly also some edifying scenes of Cumbria in early spring? I need to redecorate my quarters to something less silly. I'll keep the balcony, but the ridiculous decor has to go.

And with that hopefully innocuous smokescreen, here's the real message. Chances are we'll have to mount a rescue party for Sparrow and possibly Mister Turner Senior, since I wouldn't trust Jones as far as I could fire him from a twenty-pounder. In that event, who's with me?

A little introspection of my own.

Mon, 14 Aug 2006 18:38:14 GMT

Ah, me, what's to be done...

Useful things for putting one's thoughts in order, these boxes, I wonder? I didn't answer of the "God"'s questions, for I'd rather not have any of them paying me any serious notice, but I've gained quite a bit of intelligence from the things she said, and the things said to her. Learned a little more about this gilded prison of ours.

Am I so odd for not wanting to return to my own world? After all, what waits for me there? At best, a cosy cell detained at his Majesty's pleasure, at worst a long drop, and the worst more likely than not. Certainly I can't escape from this city, and certainly the curses and suchlike are terribly vexatious, but are they any worse than a life fleeing merciless justice? I'm (generally) warm and (somehow) well fed. And there's the people, (most of them mad as spoons, admittedly) and all the new things to see and learn. Which is better, a gilded prison or a stone one? Freedom's not where you can roam with your feet, surely, but where you can roam with your mind? I'd say I was neglecting my duty, and indeed had I still a commission or any rank or responsibilities back on earth, I'd be up there with the rest of them trying to claw my way out, but I've no duty to any man any more. Nor am I sure I want all that back. There's something much larger here, much greater, even than England, though that's a strange thought to have. Is it cowardice to want to stay here in this new, strange and colourful world? Perhaps Sparrow has indeed had a bad influence on me, though I'm more inclined to put it down to my situation.

...But what of my newfound comrades, dare I say friends? (Hasn't it been a while? One can't really have friends as such when one's focused on commanding. I don't think I've enjoyed myself this much with such amusing people since I was back at school.) Jack'll pine away without his beloved freedom of the seas, and Ran misses her ~~Seirei~~ ~~Sierei~~ comrades back home, though I wouldn't dream of intruding on her private entries to comment upon it. Sands... no idea what Sands wants, except perhaps his sight, or endless painful vengeance on his dagoe betrayer or ~~a fully functional John Thomas~~ potency, in all senses of the word. Wish there was aught I could do for them, but when marooned in a strange place, all one can really do is try to keep one's shipmates spirits up, or at least keep them from killing one another or killing you. God knows what's going on with Miss Swann and Mister Turner, but they've always seemed happy enough together (damn their excessively lucky eyes) or indeed in the mind of Miss Dalma, a place I don't dare venture lest I find myself hopping around a tidal pool feasting on seaflies. It's plain she can't stand the sight nor sound of me, and to some extent I'm the same, though I've tried to be polite to her, for she is a lady after all. Of sorts. I'm sure I shouldn't have been so rude as to demand her complicity on harming Jones' heart. Ah well, no sense crying over spilt milk. ~~At least I won't have to look on those teeth again. Like the black jaws of a goat from hell. I shudder, I do.~~

And I swear, the next time some ninny tells me I need to get myself a girl, I shall club him round the head with the flat of my blade, and then put out an application for someone suitable. I've had my fill of falling in love with boisterous types who'll only reject me for someone ~~prettier~~ more interesting. There.

*reads it back*

No, it makes no more sense written down. In fact, it makes less.

Damn.

Why?

Sun, 13 Aug 2006 21:29:26 GMT

There's a library here. I've been in it. Why didn't anyone tell me about these?

Eight hundred feet long? Crew complement of two thousand? Thirty-three knots?

I think I'm in love. Dead ships can come here as well as dead persons, yes?

Or those "planes". Or the "space shuttle". Did all that only take two hundred years? Incidentally, I'm also covered in snow. Got caught up in it on my way back to my quarters. The weather has become more insane than the Sparrow Collection today. And speaking of my quarters, which one of you ridiculous pair has interfered them? They were decently spartan before and now they look rather silly. ~~And there's a balcony...with wisterias. Really rather pleasant, I suppose.~~

[[ooc: What they look like now, obviously with Susan removed. Because that would freak him out too much.]]

I deserved that.

Sat, 12 Aug 2006 09:18:24 GMT

But damme, man, did you have to hit me quite that hard? I think something's broken...

EDIT: Ah, that's helpful. In a while I'll be going for a walk to building four, and then for a very long walk around the city. I may not be back for some time. Need to think.

LATER EDIT: Right, I'm definitely quitting this building for a while if the pair of them are in discussion.

I did deserve it, you know, and it's not as if I didn't think he'd do it. So don't go too hard on him, will you? But, I'm sorry. I've caused you trouble, and I can't just blame it all on the curse. I may not have had my self-control, but I was still myself, and I'm a dreadful blunderer when it comes to women, as Miss Swann will attest. I hope we can be comrades, but.... well, not just yet, I think.

[[ooc: I'm not sure who my muses hate more, me or themselves :P. Anyway, away for the weekend, and therefore so is he. As for the other two... Uriel is weeping profusely and ~~listening to Dashboard Confessional~~ trying to heal the mangled remains of the garden and won't talk to anyone except perhaps Jan who might be able to cheer him up a bit (you may Godmode a little, Zimon darling, but behave yourself.:P), and Walter is, oh, I dunno, catching up on the ironing he missed while he didn't have any limbs.]]

I'm not using this thing any more.

Fri, 11 Aug 2006 20:27:48 GMT

They're all completely insane! There's five of them, and they're all completely insane.

[[ooc: Exasperated beyond belief, he's going up to the roof of building eight for some peace and quiet. XD]]

My.

Fri, 11 Aug 2006 07:12:12 GMT

I seem to have gone quite wild and badly behaved yesterday. More so than hate day, but perhaps less so than love day.

Well, I suppose apologies are in order. And thanks. I'm sure you all know who you are, to whom they are directed.

EDIT: In all the curses yesterday I forgot to mention this, though it's probably old news by now: Turner, your father has probably proceeded to whatever restful heaven is reserved for repenting pirates who've suffered a decade or so of torment. Jones was alone on his ship, and being dragged here has broken his control over his crew. There's something to cheer you for the day.

LATER EDIT: The increase in Sparrow 1700-2000 doubles is becoming deeply disturbing. I pray I'm not forced to spend any length of time in a room with all five of them, else I should be wandering even further down the path to complete insanity. However, what's even more disturbing, considering Sparrow's chosen career, is that at least three of them are officers of the law. In the most technical sense, obviously. We might be able to make up a sensibly sized militia, if I weren't sure they're all going to spend most of their time here either intoxicated on opium or spasming in nervous paroxysms of apoplexy.

Well,

Thu, 10 Aug 2006 07:24:23 GMT

you tol8d me to tkae what i want. and i shal1.

Come on. I'LL T4KE YUO ALL ON!!!!!!111

~~God, has anyone got any bandages...?~~

[[ooc: Drunk, cursed and bleeding. Ah, wretched man, what is thy doom.]]

[Private...]

Wed, 09 Aug 2006 19:03:03 GMT

Should I not return...well, remember me fondly, will you? Miss Dalma, I hope you've everything prepared.

P.S. Sparrow, I'll be borrowing your longboat. Can't promise I'll bring it back in one piece. Sorry about that.

Everyone I may have offended.

Tue, 08 Aug 2006 07:15:47 GMT

Particularly you, Lieutenant Matsumoto, I am deeply, deeply apologetic. Archangel, if you would do something about this door, please.

LATER EDIT: My god, what have Sparrow and Sands been up to?

EVEN LATER EDIT: Oh...what was that word again? Oh yes.

OH FUCK.

I did, didn't I.

Mon, 07 Aug 2006 07:24:03 GMT

I really came back here. Permanently.

Well, I suppose it was that or feed a kraken Norrington tartare. Jones has probably been hunting me for days. Weeks even. Probably waiting till he had two of his enemies in the same place, two birds with one giant squid, as it were. I'm damned lucky I've got somewhere to hole up for the time being.

Nevertheless, and I shan't be leaving this room today, as I find the lot of you extremely exasperating. Leave me be, if you please. I have half a month's worth of proper sleep to catch up on.

Right.

Sun, 06 Aug 2006 01:39:57 GMT

My only aquaintances are acting like a set of prizewinning lunatics, well, even more like a set of lunatics than usual, my quarters have sprung a leak, and there's a storm outside fit to shake the building to bits. And he STILL hasn't taken his bloody CAT back.

I'm going back to real world now, thank you. It was a gorgeous caribbean evening when I fell asleep. Goodnight a

Oh well.

Sat, 05 Aug 2006 00:54:53 GMT

There goes Plan A.

Plan B anyone?

And have you really bought someone, Sparrow?

EDIT: I seem to have my orders, and will endeavour to complete them upon awakening. Aye aye, Miss Dalma.

Oh, good, here's that hangover again.

Fri, 04 Aug 2006 07:07:30 GMT

Argh.

My name is Lord Fotherington-Smythe-Fafa-Thomas. I'm seventy-two feet tall, and I live in on an estate in Rutland where I own a small otter farming business.

Right, curse is over now, good good. Well, thank you for a lovely evening. I had a least a reasonably good time, so consider the challenge met, Sparrow. And we'll just not talk about anything that happened after around ten, shall we? Or anything the curse may have caused.

I'm so dreadfully sorry, if I'd known it'd bother you that much, I wouldn't have suggested the Lieutenant come along at all. How terribly inconsiderate of me. Anyhow, are you feeling any better now? I was rather worried after you rapidly spouted something I couldn't hear properly and bolted.

[[ooc: He's lying about not hearing it, of course, out of masculine cameraderie. Isn't that nice of him? XD]]

~~God's blood...I've not seen so much of so many naked bosoms since the time I supervised the digging of that cholera pit..~~

Missed a singing curse did I? Lucky.

Thu, 03 Aug 2006 07:34:18 GMT

Ah, I don’t have that hangover any more either. Equally lucky. Though I am getting sick of having any shaving I do here undone immediately upon my return. Now, I vaguely remember something about a challenge…

After a none-too eventful crossing of the Blue Mountains, avoiding the odd rabid band of escaped slaves (we really should have done something about that, I had no idea they were getting so numerous), I’ve managed to get to Port Maria. With the help of an eyepatch, a pound of boot-black on my teeth, a large hat, and four day’s beard growth, I have avoided detection and joined the crew of a trader which is passing close to your co-ordinates, as “Able Seaman David Staines” (thank you for the inspiration, Agent Sands…) with the intention of jumping ship at the appropriate moment. If I see another banana again I shall probably go mad. Or at least some appreciable amount madder. I am currently getting a decent night’s rest in a decent bunk, for the first time in a several weeks.

You know, one of these days I shall really have to admit to myself that I'm utterly obsessed with Sparrow, and there isn't really anything that bad about him at all. He just symbolises everything that I dislike to me. I shall also have to admit that it was not him, but my own insane drive to catch him and make up for what I thought was an earlier mistake in letting him go (but in fact wasn't, it was the right thing to do) that resulted in the loss of my ship and crew to a hurricane, and the loss of my rank and position, and I've been blaming him for it to avoid sinking further into guilt and depravity, which is quite obviously stupid: Look at the results. In fact, I rather envy him for being able to flaunt the boundaries of society in ways I wish I could, and that's what makes me so sharp to him to his face. I still believe one should serve others before oneself, of course, but every now and again, I do wish I could allow myself a little self-service.

Oh, and even though I know perfectly well she's better off with Turner, (who I admire and am somewhat jealous of for doing what he does whatever the cost) and I'd rather she was free and happy with him than confined with me, I'm still rather in love with Miss Swann.

EDIT: WHAT? Why can't I remove this? DON'T READ IT, FOR GOD'S SAKE.

Bah.

Sun, 30 Jul 2006 22:52:37 GMT

Why do I let you people persuade me to do ridiculous things like go to parties. My head...

Damn your eyes, sir. Damn them to hell. I suppose you think it's funny to tell tales of your "conquest". Well, it bloody well isn't. Once again you remind me that you are no gentleman. If I hadn't promised Miss Swann I'd get the lot of you out of there, I'd be inclined to desert my intention to do so altogether.

I think I'd like to go back to my nice box now. But that isn't going to happen any time soon, now is i

Agent Sands.

Sat, 29 Jul 2006 23:35:32 GMT

Is this your cat? If so, could you possibly come and reclaim it? I don't think it's very well. It keeps trying to eat my stockings, and climb on the board with the letters on it.

Oh, for God's sake. doh;ldjshljgslgjd

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