fracturedrp | Life's a Beach

Entry tags:

Life's a Beach

When: Party Like it's 1957
Who: Jack Harkness

cjharknesstw/OTA
Where: Wildwood, New Jersey 1957

What:

He made a promise to have a fun day, one fun day that was a bit more civilized for the 4th of July weekend. It was to be in the style of the life of a Time Traveler so it was to be in any part in the past or future. The past is always fun to revisit so 1957 was the era of choice and Alisa picked the location. It would be unknown except for maybe people in the metropolitan eras of New York City and Philadelphia, Wildwood, New Jersey.

Jack's TARDIS arrived on the beach disguised as a beach cabana and he stepped out in a pair of board shorts, with a beach umbrella, sun glasses and a chair. There's going to be more needed to take the wee ones out for the day.

This trip also included picking up Ianto and Toshiko to join the team on this outing. This also included anyone else who would of been interested in joining him on this trip.

((OOC: People can either tack on to this thread or spread out. The TARDIS is godmod worthy to go back between 21st century New York, Cardiff, 1790 Camping and of course back to 57 for beach times fun. If people do the group thread remember to be polite and take turns. Enjoy the 4th!))

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He keeps his head hung low and he eventually turns it around to face the other Jack. "It's different in that it won't break you in half."

"No, you're not..." Jack wanders over towards him and he places a warm hand on the other man's bare skin. "It was the biggest shock that I discovered not long after I arrived on Earth in the 1890's." He didn't forget it and he raises an eyebrow in thought that this Jack didn't come to grasps with it yet.

Jack's eyebrows quirk when he refuses the offer and he laughs a bit. "I didn't put anything in it. I'm not about to poison myself." He takes the glass and he knocks the glass back. "Your welcome."

There's a lot of up and down in the other man, and Jack has a hard time following it. At least for right now, though God knows he's never been the least emotional person in the room - any room. Unless, apparently, he's in a room with himself. "I was there for about ten minutes before I ran into bow-tie-boy," he says, takes the drink with a murmured 'thanks', before adding, more lightly: "I don't know, if I'm immortal, it wouldn't work anyway."

Then he takes his own shot, and finally moves away from the wall to put the glass back down somewhere.

Jack's not about to shut the doors of the TARDIS but once he's sure the other man comes inside he's going to consider a demonstration. Jack leans himself up against the railing the bottle of Scotch being placed on the jump seat. "Help yourself to the rest of the bottle."

"Do you want to prove that you're immortal?" Jack asks him, he can seal off the TARDIS to keep any of the others from coming up to find him and to hear a gunshot go off. "Your Vortex Manipulator should be working then seeing you didn't burn it out while looking for him."

"Given the diverging time-lines, I can only think of one way for you to prove I'm immortal, and if you're seriously considering that, you'd better be damn sure."

Okay, he doesn't trust the guy not to poison him, con him, or lie to him, but he does trust him not to kill him. That's... about right, actually. "And." He checks his vortex manipulator, and smacks it. "It's... iffy, but yeah, it looks like it's still trying to work, anyway." While he's still talking, he looks at hte bottle of scotch and in light of the fact that this is starting to sound more like truth than an elaborate ruse? He refills his glass and tosses back that second shot like it's water.

Walking over towards the console Jack goes to shut the doors leading to the console room. Jack knows he'll be responsible for him as soon as The Doctor gets tired of his itchiness. He moves his hands along the brim of the console and he pulls out a glock from under it.

He's had hundreds of years to perfect his skills from the Agency. Those same skills made him stinking wealthy and kept him occupied for the time being. "We can work on the manipulator a bit later but I wouldn't using it."

"I'm over two thousand years old worth of positive. The Daleks weren't shooting to stun that day." Jack slides the hammer of the gun back and he ponders the demonstration on himself. Jack puts the gun to the side of his head and he pulls the trigger. It's not an impressive show as the side of his head finds itself somewhere else in the TARDIS and he collapses in a heap.

It's a quick death and it's an even quicker fix as the energy from the Vortex begins to mend him back together again.

Jack stares at the 'demonstration', opens his mouth to point out to Jack that there is no way this is going to prove anything - Yeah, Dalek's brought Jack back, this Jack is two-thousand years old based on whatever happened, but there's no way to know it's the same thing, same cause, same intensity, same permenancy, same anything except single act. To say all this demonstration will prove is that two-thousand-year old Jack is immortal.

But he doesn't get the chance. There's a spray of blood and brain and bone, Jack collapsing to the floor - older Jack- and the blood drains out of the younger's face, he flinches away from the sound and sight, even if the Vortex is putting him back together. It's gross, it's creepy, he just watched someone blow their brains out, before even touching the 'reversal' thing, which is all sorts of bizarre.

And with that, he's just done. Grabs the bottle, drinks straight from it, until he's at least aware of the burn of alcohol. "Nice show," he says, flatly. "Really great demonstration. Fantastic visuals."

If he thought he could kill Jack, he'd... well think about it, if not try it.

Jack was going to be polite about it as he stays where his body lies with his face flat on the TARDIS floor. Of all wounds it was getting shot in the head that was a pain in the arse especially seeing Jack had to regain all sense of judgment in the process. This wasn't exactly smart either.

Eventually, the wound that was there is gone, bone, skin and hair are all back where they should be. There's some movement in Jack's hand and eventually, his lungs fill up with air as he gasps for that breath. Nice way to freak someone out, Harkness but it seemed to be an easy way to give some proof to the other.

Jack slowly pushes himself up from his position on the ground never mind the bit of gore he's got on himself. "Here I am in a room with another gorgeous man. Wow. I don't get a come back like that so often. Wait. No. I do." He laughs and he turns himself around on his backside.

He watches, dizzy and still seriously considering throwing up, light headed and, if he's honest about it, scared to the point of being near fainting, but he's not going to be honest about it. He's going to keep being Jack, which means bluffing like his life depends on it, not show anything he doesn't want to show, and going to look down at Jack. The other Jack. With his face, and the same borrowed name.

"Two thousand years haven't been good for your sanity, have they?" he asks, and - well, the most obvious tell that he doesn't offer the other man help up. He flops down on the floor. "And you probably want to go take a shower."

He leans back against the console and he'll need to clean up the console room before he opens the rest of the doors back up. The last he needs is for someone else to see this.

Jack remains on the floor for a bit and he holds his hand out for the bottle. "It's not something I do on a regular basis." Well, not anymore that is. The amount of times he did this stunt during his stint in a traveling show. "I'm not sure if it answered your questions. I'm sure it didn't other than making me come off as insane."

"Its a curse." Jack dryly says, and he rubs his hands together. "It would of been a blessing almost if I was still dead on the Game Station."

He gets up again - sort of, pivots around, kneels up, grabs the bottle and passes it across to Jack. "I can understand why," he says, with nothing but sympathy.

He's not personalizing it at all - because it's not him, and there's no actual evidence that there is - but there's plenty of proof that this guy? Is hurting like hell. He is still him, still better for being with the Doctor, and compassion and love are as much part of his personality as charm, manipulation, and sex.

"It makes the TARDIS make sense, though. Moving around - wouldn't fix it, but it has to be better than being stuck." Absolute warmth, concern, and compassion, still. Almost gentle.

And enough so, that he's making mental notes to offer to clean up this mess while Jack showers. Once Jack's a little less shattered, looking.

Jack takes the bottle and he takes a long drink, its been sometime since he's done something half foolish as this. He passes the bottle back. "Still, I never would of met half of the wonderful people I did if I was still dead." The sympathy he's grateful for and he reaches a hand up for the console and he looks to the door that will lead him to his personal quarters and of course showers.

This Jack's a bit of a family man these days, the chance in a hundred years to do the marriage thing again, children again and eventually it will crumble down on him again. "The Doctor made me a changed man. I've made up for it in these years for everything else I've done." Jack's immortality has made him the man that stands before the younger one.

"I still love Earth, it's been home since I burnt that old manipulator of mine out looking for him." Jack offers with a smile, sure the TARDIS is nice looking and she's warm, concerning and compassionate it never beats the need for real people.

He pulls a few levers on the console and the doors open. "I'm going to get a shower. If you want to find him again I won't stop you. I still uphold the ideals of that fight to save Earth and the universe. You're also free to look around."

Edited 2011-07-04 03:30 (UTC)

"I don't think I want to find him again right now." For a whole assortment of reasons, starting with his confusion and continuing through to just plain being pissed off at him. "I'll get out of here, though - after I clean up this mess."

He's standing up as he talks, putting the bottle back where Jack got it from, and the glasses with him.

"Are you sure about homelessness at this point?" Jack wouldn't blame the younger him, oh he wanted to punch The Doctor when he saw him. He nods his head down one of the hallways. "You're welcomed to stay here. We'll be headed back to New York at some point."

He walks over towards a flight of stares and he puts his barefoot on the first step. His hand hanging on the railing. "I wouldn't trust your manipulator right now. I came to believe something from the Daleks damaged it when I got shot."

He turns around the gun still resting on the ground and he nods his head towards it. "Still you might want that gun if you're going to wander."

He tries to take all that in, and almost succeeds. "I'll think about finding a room," he says, slowly and carefully. "if you're sure. I don't trust the manipulator at all right now." Which is good enough and yeah, he's... lost, suddenly, and that's not even touching the 'immortality thing', but. Of all the questions he has, at least the one that's simplest to answer is: "Why do I need to carry a gun if I'm going to wander?" He's moving toward the gun, anyway, stooping down to pick it up.

"She'll make one to your liking and make point you in the right direction." Jack knew the ins and outs of living in a sexually repressed century, he's sure if he's a man with his name finding someone to shag might be in order one of these days. "There's some dangers on Earth."

Now it's time to explain the Rift. "There's something here called The Rift it sometimes brings people, allows The Doctor and the TARDIS to either travel through to other universes, refuel and sometimes it deposits the less than savory creature on Earth."

He heads up the steps only to stop at the landing and there's a smile on his face. "I've got a century's worth of dealing with it during my time with Torchwood."

"I'm really not concerned about how much I do and don't like it right now." That he's disinterested in sex right now? Says Everything about his mental, emotional, and even physical state.

He looks at the gun in his hand, makes sure he understands the mechanisms, realizes it's relatively simple and nods. "Great. Should I genuflect or just clean your brains off the walls and keep my mouth shut?"

No, he wasn't seriously being that being of an asshole - just a smart ass, and his tone was relatively gentle.

He feels for himself, he recalls the confusion, the being lost during this and most of all he was alone. "You're lost and alone, or at least you feel it. I know it. I was there.." Jack looks at the gun that the other Jack picked up.

"I'll take care of the brains problems." Jack's worried about the one thing of this Jack. "I was alone when for each death. If you would like..." Jack steps down and he looks at the other Jack. "I can make sure you're not alone." Oh, to hell about things like paradoxes as if this universe isn't a paradox on its own.

He laughs at the tone of the younger Jack. "Oh, how much I miss those days when I could be a total asshole and a smart ass. This entire being the big responsible boss thing... it has it's moments."

"What are you going to do, follow me around and wait for me to die?" he says, as amused as he is confused. And yes, he's lost and alone and Jack's got that right enough that he doesn't bother verbally clarifying it - silence can speak volumes and this omission is not an exception. "I'll take the 'big responsible boss' as a 'yes' to the genuflection, by the way." There's a smile there with that, though. Faint, but mostly -

Belatedly he realizes that Jack was glancing at the gun - or looking at it. He glances to it, then back up at Jack and gets it. "Company would be good." And yep, still got a hefty dose of fear of death, more than. What he isn't is a coward. Not anymore. His own words to the Doctor -'better off a coward' - echo in his mind. "You'd better be really sure."

Humor has always been a Harkness trait and there's a cheeky smile on his face. "If you want me to carry around a tombstone and casket I'll be happy too." Oh, of course the other doesn't fall far from his ears and there's a smile. "If you want me to kiss that firm ass of yours? Sure by all means let me at it."

There's a furrow of his brow and he puts a finger to his lips. "Kissing my own ass.. I've been offered others before."

The gun, Jack knew exactly what the other Jack wanted, he tried it countless times to see if it would stick during the years. It never did. The Doctor will balls this up and Jack's going to make sure it won't happen here. He walks down the stairs and he walks over towards the other. "I'm positive that you'll come back."

"I have nothing against ass kissing. The literal kind, anyway. The metaphorical needs more prep and lube." He's absolutely on autopilot with the innunedo and snark.

When Jack comes down the stairs, gets closer, he takes a half-step back. There's something in the contradiction between the way the older version of himself is obviously trying to help and the fact that help involves killing himself that makes processing a little hard to handle. Torn between wanting to reach out and that still-there-instinct to protect himself and fear death.

Half-step, one foot back, is all that happens though, before he plants himself where he is and nods. "I've got it." Because he has to control it, it has to be him, and he has to know himself, one way or the other. Not knowing is worse than death. He doesn't waste time, though. He just lifts the gun, turns it on himself.

He's not familiar with the gun, but he's still a decent shot. The only real issue is that when he pulls the trigger he's flinching away from it, already. That means the shot's not completely on target and he's not dead when he hits the ground. Unconscious, out of it, adding gore to the TARDIS, and dead within thirty seconds, but not instanteous.

Edited 2011-07-04 05:11 (UTC)

"I've got the greatest ass of all to kiss. We've got the rewards for it and I'm sure John would love to get his hands on it still," Jack teased, the innunedo never died with age nor did the snark.

He holds his hands up when the other steps back he knew it was there but it was one solution to one problem. The fact that its either this or the younger Jack finds himself dead somewhere cold and lonely. Jack would rather this one have the better start.

Jack's hand rests on the railing and he gives him a nod. He takes in a deep breath, death is nothing new to the older Harkness either with others or himself. It's an old friend who comes to visit him constantly almost as if to torment him.

The instinct to survive is there, the lack of care of just throwing himself in death's way isn't until now. Jack's covered again in gore that is by all logic is his. He reaches a hand up to remove some of the blood splatter from his face and he walks over towards the other Jack. He kneels down to sit himself down beside him, he takes hold of the man's hand and he waits for the energy of the Vortex to begin knitting him back together like a doll.

The Vortex does, of course, put him back together and reverse the damage. It's essentially the same process as with any other Jack, and the Vortex knows exactly what it's doing, and what has to be and what Jack is, even if this Jack doesn't.

Coming around though? Is violent as hell. His hand clamps down on Jack's hand, reflexively. He tries to exhale before he inhales, half-gagging on air and the taste of blood in his throat. His eyes are open before he's really seeing -or at least before his brain is translating what he's seeing into useful information.

Disoriented and fucked up doesn't begin to cover it. He'll go back to smarting off soon enough but in that moment? He's terrified, confused, physically and emotionally out of control, and mentally just Not All There.

It was always something to see it from this end and it makes it less easier on Jack. He's surprised he's never snapped after what constantly happened to him and why being buried alive didn't do it to him.

Jack clenches the hand tight when the other grabs his hand, the violent return is worse than the death itself. The TARDIS is an absolute mess from this but the young girl is resilient enough to let two fixed points blow themselves to bit inside of her.

Lifting the body up on to his lap Jack looks at those eyes that are staring right back at him. His words were truth that he'd stay there to make sure this first death wouldn't be with Jack being alone.

Jack holds on tight to the other man and if there wasn't an emergency with the world, the possible collapse of the universe itself he'd hit his Doctor or any for good measure. "...Welcome back."

He does eventually orient, with some help of the tight grip the older man has on him. It's not... much but his eyes focus and stop staring, he's aware of his physical position and that he's been wrenched back to life and very much aware that he's been dead.

He blinks up at Jack, then turns his head and coughs with a grimace.

When the words sink in - the meaning of them- he just about loses it completely. He hasn't had time for not staying dead to become exhausting or a personal affront or a source of personal torment, but because he's not stupid. There are so many implications there, and they're... not good.

"Yeah. Thanks." His voice is wrecked, he's starting to shake, he's pale, and that's not physical, that's all panic. Restrained, barely controlled, realizing that he's got it relatively good -comparatively good, anyway- but all the reason in the world isn't going to make the emotion go away.

He holds on and he doesn't let go, not until of course the other doesn't need him. The first dead was the worse to get a grasp on. "If you don't want to make a habit of it don't." Jack's not the only fixed point roaming this universe and that one is a well kept secret.

The worlds Jack used weren't the best and perhaps he's become used to it or just cold to the entire thing. Still he holds onto the other, hugging the man to give that need of comfort that he never got.

He feels the other Jack shake and he watches his color drain from him. Still he holds on to him, its something Jack knows that can provide some form of comfort for him.

Life's a Beach

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