InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "they be takin' mah bukkit!"

eugoogoolizer (eugoogoolizer) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-16 00:39:00

Current music:	Jem- "Crazy"
Entry tags:	!dropped, day 08, derek zoolander, gregory house, jack sparrow

Don't Like Problems, I Don't Like Stress, Don't Like To Argue, Like Tears Even Less
Who: Derek Zoolander, Gregory House, and Jack Sparrow
What: Arrival Thread
When: Day 8, early morning
Where: the forest, near the clocktower
Rating: PG-13 for language
Status: Active

Derek groaned loudly as he came to, bringing a hand to his head and sitting up slowly. It must have been a wild party night, he reflected, pursing his lips pensively. Not only could he not remember where he'd been, he sure as hell couldn't remember where he'd gone to sleep and where he was waking up. Staring around at the unfamiliar forest and melting snow, his jaw dropped. "Wow... I hope that Mugatu didn't drive me out here and forget me..." he said, not thinking about his words the way he typically didn't think about anything. Glancing up at the cloudy sky, he wondered if it was going to rain.

Just then, he realized that he could feel something wet seeping into the snakeskin seat of his designer pants. "Oh, no!" he whined, scrambling to his feet and twisting himself around to get a better look at his mud-streaked backside. "Shit! Oh, this is hella lame! Why did this have to happen to my favorite pants?" he mourned, knitting his brows together to demonstrate his chagrin. Even though he was supposed to be careful not to crease his face, since expressions caused wrinkles, he was far too emotional to avoid smiling and frowning. Making a small, frustrated sound, he attempted to wipe the mud from his pants, only succeeding in spreading the mess further.

Glancing to the side, he noticed two other men. One of them was older and wearing a blazer over a t-shirt (so tacky!) and the other looked like he'd had a whack-attack at some point during the... um... the "olden days." Derek wasn't actually sure what century pirates had been in style.

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jack_and_rum
2009-05-16 11:11 pm UTC (link)

Certain things should never happen to a man. One of them is being sent to the depths of the ocean to personally visit the intestines of a Kraken. Another is waking up on the wrong side of the rum bottle and realizing you're nowhere near your ship or a ship for that matter. Jack wasn't sure he'd been this far inland in a very long time. Too many trees. And he'd only ever heard of snow in stories his mum would re-tell from the accounts of sailors who said they knew. It had never been as cold in those tales as it was when he sat up and it slid down his pants. Now that could harm a man, he thought. Maybe he'd just go see if there's any rum. That would certainly take his mind off whatever strange trip this was now.

Last thing he'd remembered he'd been kissed and left to rot on the mast of a ship or in the belly of a monster. Not altogether pleasant but at least he'd managed to escape. Somehow. How had he done it again? Not able to fully recall, Jack stood up, a but wobbly of course. Both arms out in front of him, as though to feel out his way because his sight was so impared by rum, he meandered a few feet and stopped.

"Your favorite pants?" he asked the person who had suddenly begun muling. A someone who had the strangest hair style he had ever seen and an even worse sense of fashion. Tugging his hat down a bit to disguise his face, lest this be an agent of the East India Trading Company in disguise, Jack tried a pleasant smile and a re-start of that conversation. "Which way to the shore, me hearty?"

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vicodin_snark
2009-05-17 04:04 pm UTC (link)

Ow. Grumbling under his breath, House rubbed his eyes, unable to figure out why a, he was so tired and b, why he was cold. Last thing he knew he had been in a secret helicopter (though how a helicopter could be at all inconspicuous was beyond him. They seemed to scream 'hey, you! look up here!') and now he was.

Decidedly not in the helicopter. Worst of all, he was without cane and -- fuck. That would be without bottle of pills as well. "All right. Funny, ha ha, you've had your fun. Give me back the pills." Yet, however, there was no response. House had to hand it to Wilson, he'd done a good job with the practical joke. Of course, he'd better watch his back from now until the end of time, but House had to admit this was a good one.

He rubbed his leg, grimacing as it throbbed. Not even the snow was doing anything to numb the pain. "Really. You got me. Whoever decided to plan this. I give up. No more drugs for me!"

And that didn't bring forth an answer either. House cursed again, wondering if the sing-song quality of his voice had spoken volumes to the insincerity of his drug-free promise. Frowning, he reached to the side, picking up the small kit that was laying beside him. He flicked open the catches, his brow knitting further as he saw what was inside. There was no way either Cuddy or Wilson could have come up with this. So that begged the question: where the hell was he?

And with... "All right. New hallucination," House said, glancing at the pirate. "Not unwelcome, but new."

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eugoogoolizer
2009-05-17 06:02 pm UTC (link)

"Yeah, my favorite pants," Derek moaned piteously, sticking out his lower lip. "They're from Dolce and Gabbana's Fall collection for men! This pants were a gift from Maury and they're like best friends that I can put my legs and junk in. They're sentimental pants." He posed slightly to be safe, just in case there were any photographers nearby. "By the way... your look is really interesting, but unless you're going for a period look I'd really update your style. You look like whack with dreadlocks, OK? And... the shore..." Derek furrowed his brow, in deep, deep thought. "Are we in Miami? I could so use a bonfire orgy party to de-stress myself."

Derek gave an affected little shriek when he heard the older, grouchy-looking man bark about pills from nearby. "I know what kind of pill you need! A chill-pill! Just cool it, dude, and I bet that someone will come by with some good shit in a while. I just hope that the party isn't going to be out here. It would be really... really..." Derek searched for a word. "Sucky. It would be sucky." When he heard House proclaim that he was through with drugs, though, he looked really crestfallen.

"Hey, like I said, cool it. No one said that you had to stop living."

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jack_and_rum
2009-05-18 09:02 pm UTC (link)

Jack looked completely nonplussed when the bizarrely haired man began chattering like a drunken parrot. His eyebrows shot up and he leaned his head away immediately to get away from the blathering as it assaulted his ears. This was decidedly not an individual he wanted much more to do with if the man could not shut his own mouth long enough to breathe. With an annoyed and tolerant look on his face, Jack pulled his outstretched arms back toward his body and folded them across his chest. "Sounds like you need a good slap. You're hysterical."

He looked thoughtful for a minute and touched his long, twisted hair. He looked back at Derek with a disgusted curl to his lip. There was nothing wrong with his hair. The other man was completely insane. "Burma. We're in Burma," he said with a matter of fact air that meant he knew what he was talking about. It was the same tone he used when he'd gotten the Pearl lost near the Isla de Muerte and had to placate a near-mutinous crew. Not that it had done any good. They'd mutinied later on anyway.

Cue the crazy man's older cousin, apparently. Another man seemed to rise from the forest floor like a cursed mummy and began shouting about pills. With an extremely perplexed looking expression, which was really just his cover for not wanting to deal with these crazy men, Jack stepped back and rocked from side to side slightly as his head spun. Didn't quite feel like rum he'd had. Suddenly he was falling and he landed hard on his ass on a rather large bush. He hollered in surprise and stumbled over himself to get out of it, covered in prickles. He saw what had caused him to fall as he landed on his hands and knees to pull the prickles from his butt. There was a small box down here. Jack's eyes widened. "Ohhh."

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vicodin_snark
2009-05-20 04:54 pm UTC (link)

Officially, Cuddy and Wilson had gotten a one up on him. That was the only logical explanation and for a man who was used to taking strange leaps in logic, he wasn't about to look elsewhere. Because he wasn't going to give credence to this. At all. Because saying he had been taken and dropped in the middle of nowhere would be admitting something he really didn't want to admit.

That he was in the middle of nowhere with a schizophrenic and... a schizophrenic. Wonderful.

"Burma?" House asked, lifting an eyebrow in the direction of the pirate. "Right. Because Burma always looks like a frozen tundra at this time of the year. Which is why I never once wanted to go there on vacation. Didn't want to freeze my ass off." In other words, idiot.

No, that didn't at all compare to the... whatever Derek was. "I never said I was through with them," House replied, picking up the small box at his feet and began leafing through it. No pills. Fuck. "It is called the fine art of sarcasm, obviously something you never had the opportunity to pick up." Eyes flicking to Jack, House frowned when the man fell and (amusingly enough) managed to get prickers in his ass. Oh this was just wonderful. He was stuck in the middle of nowhere with dumb and dumber.

"Watch it," House said. "I don't think there's anything by way of antiseptic in these kits. Last thing we need is you turning green and having it fall off. Or worse." At least that would be interesting. "All right. What we need is some place to stay. Because outside with no shelter is not going to cut it. Not in these surroundings."

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eugoogoolizer
2009-05-21 02:57 am UTC (link)

At the pirate-man's suggestion that Derek deserved a slap, the male model's chiseled jaw dropped. "What? You are whack! No one slaps me!" he insisted, crossing his arms stormily, shoving his lower lip out further, and watching the pirate amble over towards some bushes, after confidently proclaiming that they were in Burma. "Burma? Like... isn't that somewhere in Africa?" Derek asked, furrowing his brow in deep concentration. He watched curiously as the pirate picked up a box. "What's that? Treasure?" he asked, the topic being on his mind since he was apparently conversing with a pirate.

"Wait," Derek said, when the older guy remarked about Burma's climate. "Burma's cold? Well then... maybe we really could be in Burma! Hey, pirate guy! You might be right! I think that we're in Burma!" He happily began rooting through his own box, but became increasingly more crestfallen as he explored the contents. "I was at least hoping that there'd be some hair gel here... snap!"

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jack_and_rum
2009-05-22 04:14 pm UTC (link)

Jack gave the older man a withering look. He wasn't going to be bothered explaining to someone who couldn't even tell when a man was playing tricks on an idiot. He knew about Burma. Had been there and plenty of other places. But this was some fun at the expense of a fool who looked like he might have been stung by an angry electric eel and talked like he might have grown up with said eel. Far away from human contact.

He wasn't perturbed long because he was falling over and then there was that box. Forgetting about the prickers in his butt, Jack picked up his hat which had tumbled into the snow when he'd fallen and situated it back on his head. He stood up with the box and eyed it curiously before wiggling his fingers above the lid in anticipation like a magician would while saying the magic words. Then he deftly lifted the lid and let out a little yell. He didn't drop the box but he held it out away from his face with a look of disgust.

"There is a small box of teeth in there. Someone with dark voodoo magic must be nearby. I don't think it would be smart to be in possession of said teeth when the owner comes to look for them." He accented the word voodoo with a lift of his brows and a wiggling of his fingers, this time in the direction of the younger man.

He glanced between the two men, the one with his permanently annoyed expression and the other who looked like he might pee his pants from excitement. "Here," he said to the older man and shoved the box at him. Then he back away two steps with his hands out defensively before turning and starting to run.

He only made it a few steps before he was tripping down over his feet again. Landing in the same pricker bush.

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vicodin_snark
2009-05-28 07:16 pm UTC (link)

It was official. He was surrounded by idiots. And not even the sort of idiots he could easily walk away from, but idiots he was stuck with. House could feel the beginnings of a headache beginning to blossom behind his eyes, rivalling the pain in his leg. His team he could walk away from, these yokels... he was stuck with.

Wonderful.

House watched the pirate fall over himself repeatedly and just shook his head. That was the sort he couldn't do anything for. Besides, looked as if he was used to falling and if it were the pricker bush that broke his fall, so be it. Honestly, the Pirate most likely had bigger problems than some prickers in his ass. Schizo-- no, that would be the other guy. House shook his head, pulling his mind away from the game of auto-diagnosis. Then again, it was more interesting than the current conversation at hand. Much, much more interesting.

"Voodoo magic?" House rolled his eyes skyward. "Puh-leze." House pulled out the journal and rifled through the rudimentary kit. Well, they'd work for now. House plucked four of the white pills and, smirking at the pirate tossed them back, swallowing them dry. "I choose to face the wrath of the unknown voodoo gods in the hopes of finding some relief. Anger the gods I shall."

Too, too easy to screw with them. Like shooting fish in a bloody barrel.

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eugoogoolizer
2009-06-01 02:58 am UTC (link)

Derek's face lit up happily when the pirate made a funny face at him, wiggling his eyebrows and saying a silly word! Derek burst out in delighted giggles. "You're whack, Mr. Pirate, but you're cool," he decided, waiting for Jack to return and patting him on the back. It was his way of showing the pirate that he had obtained the Derek Zoolander seal of approval. That was a good thing right there. He winced, though, when Jack tumbled into the exact same bush. "Whoa! Amigo, lay off the magic tea, OK?" he said fretfully.

He turned, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, to House when the older man expressed a certain level of unheard-of (for Derek) skepticism. "You want to make God angry? I don't know if that's really a good idea, Mister... don't you know that God has airplanes he can send down to run you over?" Zoolander asked, with the knowledge of one who had clearly mixed up divine power with airshows.

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jack_and_rum
2009-06-12 03:58 pm UTC (link)

Sitting in the pricker bush, Jack ignored the thorns poked into his butt and took a minute to collect his bearings. He was not at all pleased with this place so far. Or the company. He'd rather be in the company of James Norrington on his worst, most vengeful day than with the older man. The younger one was seemingly in a perpetual state of bliss. Jack wondered if the man had stumbled straight out of the madhouse.

"I vote we find somewhere else to go than stand around," he grumbled, brushing off his ass as he stood up again out of the pricker bush. He was done with foppery for the moment because he was done with this. He wanted away and somewhere he could find rum and a warm bed.

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