captainjamesjoneshook

[captainjamesjoneshook]

NAME: James Jones the II ASSIGNED SIDNEYLAND: Pokémon: The Enchanted Forest  JOB TITLE & ASSIGNMENT: Character Attendant  FAVORITE RIDE/ATTRACTION: The Clawthorne Tournament  YEARS EMPLOYED AT SIDNEYLAND: 1 

BIOGRAPHY: 

There was one reason and one reason alone that James Jones the II had applied to Sidneyland: nepotism! 

He’d admit it, straight up, hand to God or the Mouse or whoever the fuck had the power at play here. His fathers had been working there since the place had opened after all. They had started out in the custodial services but slowly wormed their way up until they were a pair of standouts over in Atlantis Island. Especially after his father’s accident on park grounds that resulted in the loss of his hand. Sidneyland took care of him, made sure he was looked after, and kept him on after he recovered. 

James grew up going there whenever possible. After school he’d arrive on the bus to hang around until it was time to go find his dads as they were finishing up for the evening. During the summer he was left to wander around, hopping from park to park, until they were all ready to go home. It was home away from home. So, yeah, why wouldn’t he want to work there, too? The old men had retired a few years back, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still have some pull within the park. 

James still spends his days in the park, making kids and parents laugh alike, and ensuring that whatever brightly colored Pokémon he’d been partnered with wasn’t going to trip over said kids as they went about their day.

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@pall0r-mortis

"Oh boo fucking hoo to you. My plans certainly didn't include being driven all the way to the city. Remember my plans? Cards? Friends? Hatter's? And you just went and blew that all to shit, didn't you? No, if you'd been nice, you would have kicked me out on the curb when I'd told you to.Twice!" was the grumbling rant that James went on in answer. All while he continued combing through the horrid website that listed hotel rooms and their pricing on his phone.

James glanced up from the screen to peer out over the hood of the car at whatever Sid was talking about. Jeesh– time sure did fly when you were having the time of your life, didn't it?

"From my point of view, civilization means the opposite of salvation," he said. Now, he didn't consider himself a proper country boy or whatever, it wasn't like he'd grown up on a farm or anything like that, but he sure as shit had not grown up in the city. A night in London scared him far more than the thought of a night alone in Enchantra, but maybe this was a the devil you know debate.

Again, all he could think about was all the people that had lived and died in the city and how many were still going to be roaming the streets. His hand absently touched the pentacle that rested against his chest, hidden under the layers of his hoodie and shirt, always left to wonder about the woman who had left it and the magic in his veins behind. So many questions had been taken with her to the grave and the bloody irony of being a Medium meant that even if he could contact the dead, he couldn't talk to her– the only person he could think to talk to any of it about.

Ah, whatever. Now wasn't the time to lament on the whole dead mom thing. He usually kept those reserved for after tea.

"And you should too. Drivings about to get a whole lot harder than the open stretches of rode," he said. "That is if we can drive. From what I hear people spend more time sitting in traffic than they do actually moving from one place to another. Guess that's why they've got the Tube...anyway, watch for bikers, will you?"

Technically Not Kidnapping. Probably || Shook

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@marie-a-bonfamille

His brows furrowed a little at this statement because...uhh...what?

As previously pointed out, theater was not James' medium of choice in either consuming or participating in– but he did perform in front of people. Granted, he was a drummer so most of the time he was confined to the back of a stage with other people blocking the crowds view of him.

But he was pretty sure that with any amount of stage presence, or performance, or shit, the very making of art required at least some understanding that you were going to look foolish.

Seemed a strange thing to say– until he remembered who he was talking to.

"Yeah?" He gave a little impressed look, lower lip sticking out briefly with a tilt of the head. "And here I thought we were all boo boo the fool, jingling together across this stage. Isn't that was theater is all about?"

I can’t do it alone || Open

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@ariel-the-undiscovered

James didn't really hear the warning since his ears were filled with a loud, "Aaarrgg!" sound coming from– oh. Right. It was coming from him.

As the seagull had lunged for the bag so had James. Sure, in hindsight, it was probably stupid to have done so. It was a bird, what was the point of fighting with a bird? Well, James would argue it was the principal of the thing! Why did the seagull deserve the crisps he'd brought just because it was bullying him? (And no, he didn't want to hear about how people were taking over animal's habitats so it was the least he could do– this was a seagull. Seagull. Where the fuck was the sea, eh? At least 70 kilometers West! Or 100 south!)

He'd been faster, grabbing the bag before the bird could, and shielding it with his body as he rolled to put his back to the bird. When he turned back, though, the bird was still there, watching him with its beady little eye in the side of its head.

Seagull Sabotage {Hook/Ariel}

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@madmagicmim

There were two things someone could say that James Jones the II would agree with almost instantaneously– and that was we should sleep and we should get food. He had already been gearing up to go flop down on his bedroll before she started backtracking on the wishes for sweet dreams or what have you. His brow furrowed, eyes back on her as she dropped that massive bomb.

Or actually managed to light the flame this time, since he really had thought she'd been taking the piss the first go around. Instead of blowing it out all he could do was hold on, letting it explode between his palms.

Slowly his head turned until he was no longer looking at her but starring, unseeing, at the flickering flames of their camp fire.

"Fuck," he breathed, blinking several times, slow and heavy. As if he really had just been that close to an explosion.

Mim had been engaged. She had been promised to be married. And they were about to go walking back into this guy's property. Fuck.

James took in air through his nose until his lungs were filled to the brim before letting it all back out, slowly. He nodded, turning back to her.

"Alright then. In that case...I'll follow your lead," he promised. Then, without thinking, he reached over to brush his knuckles against the side of her knee, "Just don't get too far ahead, eh? I'm not as quick as you."

He shot her a smile, then turned, off to get to bed. "G'night!"

Those Exits Are Not Made Equal || Maim (Trope Extravaganza)

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@jere-me--oh-my

"You'll get nothing but the cold hard truth from me," he said, holding up his left hand while the right slapped down on his chest over his heart. That, at least, he could do. Some people may have found it hard to give feedback that someone didn't want to hear, and this was probably especially for the person who'd written the music and who this was all about, but not James. In his mind, not letting someone know they sounded like shit wasn't doing them any favors– it was in fact worse to not tell them, as they would only embarrass themself in front of an audience.

Or, in this case, to have it recorded and placed in permanence. It was easy to shrug off flubs during a live show, letting it get washed away by the time and the good notes and licks that came after it. Couldn't really do that when someone could just go back and listen to it over and over and over again.

He let his hand fall as he softened, returning the smile with one of his own, the expression was sincere in its encouragement. Just because James felt like his stomach was a series of intricate, unyielding knots didn't mean Jeremy's had to. He had a lot more to worry about than James did anyway. "You won't, though. You've got this, just do what you normally do and we'll be grand."

Drumroll Please || JimJams

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@ariel-the-undiscovered

James, meanwhile, hadn't meant to be out at Atlantis at all. The sight of water in quantities any larger than a puddle still made his stomach tighten uneasily, eyes waiting to see scales and yellow eyes rise to the surface. He also didn't really know how to swim anymore– he was still getting used to the concept of walking on solid ground. And, well, he just really didn't like the ghosts that stuck around the water. Too many children still crying for their parents that would resurface.

But he had been talked into coming by his mates, all of who were out swimming while he held down their spot on the shore with his headphones and a book. One minute he was peacefully reaching into a bag of crisps and then the next there was a fucking seagull pecking at his hand.

He flinched, giving a shout of surprise as he ducked to the side as the bird hopped toward the food. Then he threw his hands up, trying to scare it despite knowing they did not experience the emotion themselves but could certainly smell it.

"Fuck off!" he told it. The seagull paid him no mind as it turned its head to assess the scene around it in search of more food. James tilted his head, seeing the bracelet it still had between its beak. "What the--?"

The bird opened its wings and jumped toward him again, this time going for the bag that laid next to him.

Seagull Sabotage {Hook/Ariel}

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@pall0r-mortis

"Awww, come on, what the fuck," he groaned, letting his head tip back as he squeezed his eyes shut. Why should he have to do any of the hard work, like finding a hotel room and booking it? He was the one who'd been dragged into this! He was the guest! He shouldn't have had to do anything but sit there!

But he didn't really trust Sid to find them somewhere halfway decent, so he sucked in a breath and sat up. James got his phone out and focused his eyes down on it as he went about looking up hotels in London that weren't going to break the bank account– as far as he knew, Sid was in the same tax bracket as he was.

None of Sid's words really got through to him, as his brain was sort of blocking them out in favor of paying attention to his phone and typing in key words and reading, until the tattoo comment cut through. It made him snort and he looked over at Sid, glancing down at his arms that were outstretched in the space in front of him to where his hands were on the steering wheel. He shook his head like he wasn't very impressed but, admittedly, he could admire the design and execution.

But only to himself inside his own head.

James went back to scrolling on his phone.

"Well it doesn't exactly work if you go around calling everything I do stupid. That just defeats the purpose," he replied. "And bold of you to say that when you're the one who literally never has a plan going into anything! The only stupid thing I've done today was thinking you'd actually be nice to me."

Technically Not Kidnapping. Probably || Shook

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@madmagicmim

As soon as he heard that more guilt joined the pool of it in the pit of his stomach. He should have known better than to ask something like that, having been witness to the way people treated her for reasons out of her control. Hell, he'd been seeing it on their journey now. Only difference was back then he would have done something about it, annoyed on her behalf. The past few days he'd just quietly simmered away on the comments and looks she got, not saying anything because his pride had somehow mattered more.

It took him a second for her question to filter through and he looked up only to quickly look back down once more, head bobbing in a firm nod. Then his expression wrinkled and he shrugged.

"Yeah, sort of. Not really. It was more like they let me bum around their place while I found my feet again. I'd helped one of their guys out– Spencer? The one who sat with us at dinner?" The one he had been speaking to, oblivious to what information Mr. Tomlin had been sharing with Mim at the table. "Got a bit banged up for it. He dragged me back to their hide away instead of leaving me to the wolves who'd been chasing him. So, I wouldn't say I was running with them so much as I was their pet project.

"I did help them on a few things when I had my wits back about me but..." James trailed off, still unsure that he should tell her about what he head learned. It seemed a bit too soon, didn't it? To tell her something that might send her running– for real this time. "I knew I couldn't stay."

Blegh. This had gotten too serious. He picked his gaze up again, smiling. "There were little old ladies that were in desperate need of my help out in the world and I couldn't ignore the call of fate."

Those Exits Are Not Made Equal || Maim (Trope Extravaganza)

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@jere-me--oh-my

Everyone stopped playing and it was like a cord (no pun intended) had been cut. James reached out to clamp his fingers down on the cymbal that had continued to vibrate past all the other noises aside from the voice coming in from the booth. The moment, as nice as it had been, was gone and it was never coming back.

As everyone broke away he leaned over, fishing through his bag to pull out the bottle of soda he had stashed away. He was cracking the lid off when Jeremy's hand touched his shoulder, making him turn to look up at him. James rolled his eyes at those questions, but couldn't help the corner of his mouth pulling up. He leaned, but not far enough or fast enough to truly shake off the other boy's touch.

"Don't speak too soon, Johnson," he sighed, lifting the soda up to hover near his mouth but not taking a drink yet as there was still more to say. "That was just us fucking around– wait until I'm trying to get your music to sound like how you want it to then get back to me with the compliments."

He lifted the bottle, taking a drink and letting the fizzy liquid make him wince slightly as it dragged down his throat. When he pulled it away he wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist and refastened the lid.

"You, however, sound very good, my friend. And look even better," he said, winking. "How you feeling?"

Drumroll Please || JimJams

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@pall0r-mortis

"I figured," James said on a hefty sigh. He had kinda figured that this wasn't just going to be a there and back in a day situation. "Could have told me, you know. 's only polite. I didn't get the chance to pack a tooth brush or extra sock or nothin'."

This meant that they were going to be having a nice little slumber party, weren't they? God, as if the day wasn't already beyond stupid, now he was going to have to worry about having to sleep around this tool, too. Ah, whatever, it wasn't as if he'd managed to sleep for much longer than a few hours since he had woken up from his surgery anyway.

"And, uh, yeah I'd like you to survive, sunshine. Not really a good look for me if we head out of a small town together with no word of warning to anyone, go to the big city, only for you to wind up fucking dead. I'd be suspect number one before I even knew what the hell was going on." That and he sure as shit did not want to be haunted by Sid's ghost. If this was what he was like to James when he had other people who could see and hear him then he would be even more of a pain in the ass if James was the only person he could get to pay attention to him.

"Besides, I've always been under the impression that having someone around to tell you how stupid a stupid plan is, is what makes it fun," he went on. "Then again, I don't exactly know what your brand of stupid is. Hustling? Bar fights? Spur of the moment tattoo?"

Technically Not Kidnapping. Probably || Shook

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@jere-me--oh-my

As the others began to come in one by one, James backed off. He was still present, holding onto the tempo he had set from the top despite the different melodies and noises having joined in, but didn't stick around to be the star of the show or overpower any one else. If James had the desire to be the center of attention, he would have learned to sing, not the guy who was usually tucked behind everyone else on a stage and who couldn't move around with the instrument to find the spotlight.

That wasn't what this was about for him. It never had been. It had started as an escape– a pair of headphones with the volume turned up had been able to drown out the ghosts that tried to talk to him. Then he'd taken a step further and learned to play, taking the ability to tune them out into his own hands. He just happened to fall in love with it along the way. Music was hard not to love, though, with all it could do for a person.

He fit himself in his place among them, deep in the pocket, and listened. They called, he responded. When his dark eyes weren't focused on his own hands they were moving around the room, checking in with everyone's body language for another read on where it was they were trying to go.

There was something about playing music that turned the moment into something almost too grounding– at least for him, anyway. Spend enough time using music to be the only think you focused on and suddenly your body and brain had a Pavlovian response to it, where instead of disassociating and drifting off to somewhere else, James was completely present. There was no stray thought for what he might have for tea later that evening, or what he could pick up from the market on his way home. He was present for the moment, not anticipating the next. Merely enjoying being able to follow where Jeremy Johnson led his merry band along.

Drumroll Please || JimJams

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@marie-a-bonfamille

James gave a nod. He had no idea who it was, but thought maybe he could figure it out if they showed themselves among the crowd. Not that he cared all that much really, but this conversation was going to entertain him until Spencer decided to show his face so James could vacate the premises before they started vocal warm-ups or something that would make him stick out.

Look, he'd grown up in Swynlake. Maybe he didn't put much credit on gossiping but he couldn't say it wasn't a small town pass time that he hadn't learned.

It did surprise him to hear ol' Bonfamille didn't know who it was. Meant it must've been another new-comer.

"I dunnoooo," he said from out of the corner of his mouth through a mocking grimace. His nose scrunched up a little, "There's plenty of people who get positions they say their qualified for but aren't. I mean, who hires 'em? The director, right?"

I can’t do it alone || Open

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@madmagicmim

James had squinted at the thing she'd pulled and presented from her bag, perplexed as to what the hell it was since he'd never seen anything like it. (Not that this was a big deal– he hadn't seen a lot of shit.) Then his eyes darted up, wide upon hearing the first sentence of explanation that came out of her mouth.

It shouldn't have surprised him so much. Just like it shouldn't have stirred up the amount of emotion it did. Mim was who she was, and it was more than a little easy to fall into the gravitational weight she had. It had gotten him so good he never had been able to escape it, even when he had fought against it with everything he had– yet here he was, getting pulled right back in.

He smiled, turning away for a moment before looking back at her to laugh with both amusement and relief. The story ending like that also should not have surprised him in the least.

"Of course you did," he said and where even just this morning such a statement would have been pumped full of sarcasm, it only sounded warm and fond and...doleful. To think, he could have been there, watching from the wings as she nailed the bloke to a wall or waiting on the outside for her to come out victorious.

Instead, he'd missed it. And so much more.

His smile dimmed and he looked down at his arm, fiddling with the strap and cloth. "You work alone?"

Those Exits Are Not Made Equal || Maim (Trope Extravaganza)

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@jere-me--oh-my

Yeah, it had been a big adjustment not having his other leg present, hadn't it? Even for something like drumming. Most people thought it was all in the wrists when, really, there was a lot more going on with a drum kit than they could fathom. Especially these days with the amount of pedals that could be installed– but that was to his advantage, actually. Without his left foot, his right had to pick up the slack when it was needed while also dealing with its duties. But it had been learning that ever since he'd woken up in the hospital bed, staring down at the empty space on the mattress.

He set his bag down beside the stool and tended to making sure the kit was to his liking– he wasn't a fussy sort, just needed everything to be within his range of motion and dialed properly. Then he had his sticks out, testing everyone out.

Each hit of the sticks against the tom's were distinct. Clean. There was no muddiness to be found as they struck the surfaces, a trait he was both aware of and yet did unconsciously.

Once that was all done he sat back, waiting...waiting...

Finally, Johnson took the lead. James followed Jeremy's eyes as they flickered around at the others. And when no one jumped to reply, James figured, well, it was on the drummer to keep the time, wasn't it?

"Yeah! Let's go," he called out in enthusiastic agreement, and began playing a beat to light the fire under the other musician's asses.

Drumroll Please || JimJams

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@pall0r-mortis

James blinked, face scrunching into confused disbelief as he turned his head slowly to look over at the driver.

A museum. This bitch was taking the day to drive the long trek out to London for a museum? And it wasn't even one of the tourists traps? Well...hadn't seen that one coming by a long shot.

Then again, he had no idea what was being put on display. It could have been some weird shit that fit Sid's general persona. Not all museums were prim and proper, displaying pieces of art and history that created an air of respect. Some of them were funny, gimmicks even. Maybe that's what Sid was looking forward to for whatever reason.

It didn't even occur to him that Sid was clarifying that the place was more cozy for James' benefit– he just thought he was trying to really drive it home to James that he wasn't like other girls. He didn't want to go romp around the royal family's neck of the woods, or go see the Crowned Jewels, or whatever was actually in the British Museum and not just what he'd seen in Night At the Museum:Secret of the Tomb.

The latter part of the plan did make James get a bit tense.

He drank, sure. He'd gotten well and truly pissed more than his fair share. What else was he going to do in a small town like Swynlake, eh? But that was around his mates, around people he trusted to spend time around with his defenses down, where his father and Mr. Smee had been but a few minutes away at any given moment.

Here? With Sid? In a city of strangers? James loved bad ideas but, believe it or not, he wasn't a complete idiot.

"That's alright. You've got yourself a DD," he told him, unwilling to make a big to-do about wanting to not drink, either. "I've no idea how much they up charge in the city so– hope you've saved up for this occasion."

Technically Not Kidnapping. Probably || Shook

[captainjamesjoneshook]

@madmagicmim

James had not been expecting such a prompting. He had been working on an ice breaker of his own as he had prepared the food, but it was totally gone now that he was busy trying to come up with something to tell her.

There was...so much that had happened. So many things over the years when he had caught himself thinking of her, be it something as obvious as a scarf that matched the shade of purple of her skin when it would glow under a full moon's light or something as far reaching as a joke that would pop into his head that he knew no one but her would dare to laugh at– or even better, roll her eyes at and berate him for saying aloud. Moments where he wished she had been there or moments he was grateful she wasn't around to witness.

And yet, as he sat there trying to think, his mind was nothing but a blank slate.

He hummed, one of his hands rubbing subconsciously back and forth across his arm. Suddenly he paused, both in sound and with the motion, and looked down. "Oh! Here!"

James held up a finger and then quickly unwrapped the strap from around the cloth he had bound from the heels of his hand to his elbow, there for tactical, anti-friction wound reasons. He pushed the sleeve of his robe back and held up the back of his forearm to her, showing a scar there.

"I got this from an old woman who thought I was her grandson," he explained. "Apparently he'd taken off into the night with her savings and her cat. I'd been sleeping on her land. She found me and...woke me up. I cleared myself and wound up sticking around to help her for a bit. She was nice, you know, when she wasn't trying to kill me."

He chuckled at the memory, shaking his head and putting his arm back down to rest on a knee. Then he nodded toward her. "Your turn."

Those Exits Are Not Made Equal || Maim (Trope Extravaganza)