Within the regions of Tortuga sat a rather large tavern. Upon its walls
were carved figures of the Royals, however, each picture depicted a way of
torture for a King, Queen, Prince, or Princess. A brown, wooden sign swung
above the door, a name written on it in calligraphy, as well as a rather
large picture of a King's head on a platter. Ironically, the tavern was
dubbed The King's Head.
Inside the tavern, many drunken pirates and harlots laughed, flirted, and the most usual thing—were getting drunk. Finally, three men, who had OBVIOUSLY had too much to drink, made their way toward the bartender's counter, and sat on it, beginning to sing.
Ashen tressed maiden slunk into the scene, shocked an amazed at the goings on. Actually, not really. Raising an eyebrow, she watched on, half hidden behind the counter. She'd always wanted to see someone in action, then again, she was hiding from a group of men, and her mother, both of which enjoyed following her around. Sighing softly, curiosity overcame, and she meandered over, still, wary of the situation.
Her attire consisted of a white billowy shirt, black-charcoal black-vest, blue jacket, long brown trousers, and boots. And yes, a black bandana was tied around her hair, concealing its true length, as did the feathered hat atop her head.
Giving a wicked grin, she watched, still amused by the goings on. Her hand wandered toward her cutlass, which was placed in its scabbard, which rested on her side, as did three jeweled daggers. Yet, she didn't show any sign of royalty, riches, or even the thought of a thief. More of a civilian, if you please.
"Gentlemen aren't usually welcomed these parts," slurred a drunk man in long black, beaded in spots, dreadlocks. A beard and mustache and dirty clothes of the day that he wore exceedingly well attired him. He leaned forward, placing a hand on the androgynously dressed figure and fell into thought, squeezing the shoulder a few times. Confused by the slim shoulders he skewed his face and with a mouth open, ready to question but mind not too sure of what to ask, he stared.
Jumping at the hand, she spun around, eyes narrowed, dagger inside the tightly coiled fist. Backing away from him into the bar, she looked at him with distrust. "Hence the reason I'm not a man." She retorted, her voice shaky.
"That so?" Jack's hand, left in the air twitched and wiggled before he threw it back in a wide stretch and brought it back around behind him to hold with the hand left free the whole time. Holding it tight with ringed fingers he bowed to peer closer. "Then what are you?" he teased.
"Certainly not what you think." She snapped, sidestepping out of his way, and nearly pole-bended around people to get out of the tavern. Shuddering, she rested outside of the tavern, head hung, eyes closed. An everyday occurrence had scared her that bad? Not usual. Resting an exposed wrist on her forehead, she sighed gently, when she concluded that she was fine. Walking away from the tavern, she ambled down the road, this time, dagger was being played with.
Grabbing a glass of ale from a sleeping man at the counter Sparrow weaved out of the tavern after the dandy, or girl, or whatever that was. Standing outside of the entrance and watching a lazy bar fight finish up just out into the roadway he watched the person wander off, not sure if he should chance the scared little thing. He felt some sympathy for it, but then again, there was probably some fun much rather attended to inside. He finished up the drink.
Pulling off the coat due to heat, she walked about, tying it around her waist. Finally stopping, she took off the hat, and set herself down outside of a hotel, resting on a bench. Routine. Some freak touches you, inquires your sex, and then you run and find somewhere else to be. There wasn't anyone to talk to, to be friends with except the occasional boy who happened to land here by mistake. Wenches and Drunks. "Just my luck." She mumbled, leaning her head against the wall of the hotel from the bench, eyes closed again. "Sleep...not...good."
A few hours later Jack was in a blind stupor, barely able to find his way to the hotel. He had a horrendous woody and jiggling a few coins in the palm of his hand as he stumbled, skipped and swayed he was off to find a harlot! A good harlot for some good times before they boarded tomorrow and he'd be stuck with a whole shitload full of males. Although as he approached the hotel he noticed somebody familiar, and sex was no longer on his mind. Approaching with his now-bulletless-pistol in hand he bent over and goaded the child. "This here's no place for you, go home to yer bed, Kid."
Rousing, she looked up at him with sleep deprived eyes. "Don't 'ave a 'ome." She mumbled, curling up slightly on the bench, eyes blinking a couple hundred times as she struggled to push herself awake. Glancing at him, she suddenly realized who he was. Half snarling, she glared. "Go away."
"We'll that's rather unfortunate," he said simply, forcing a seat next to her. He leaned his head against the cool wall himself. Aaah, it helped clear his drunk head! "Because I'm not leaving." He had no better idea who she was or was not.
Grumbling, she struggled to get up, head swimming. "You're sitting on my feet." Bouncing on the bench, she toppled over the edge, and then wrenched her feet out from under him. Grunting in pain as she collided with the ground, she swung her feet over her head, and then stood, wobbling for a few seconds. "They shouldn't sell drink to minors." Blinking again, she went back and sat down, eyes closed.
The captain didn't make an effort to move, finding much more amusement and pleasure in the girl tumbling and rolling. He was too drunk to rise to his own feet. "One of those Christian types?" he asked as she took her seat again and he began to toss at coin in the air and catch it.
Propping up her head with a hand, she winced slightly. "It's called Live and Learn. You drink the drink, and then you regret it later. Live and Learn." Twitching slightly, she looked over at him with bloodshot eyes. "Maybe you're used to it, but honestly, the war going on in my head is bad enough without you jolting about so much. If you'd refrain from MOVING, maybe I could go back to sleep." She snapped, too sore to move away from him.
"Live..." Jack drawed out, holding the coin tight in between fingers. "And learn..." He snapped the coin and fed it back to his coin purse under a pocket in his jacket and tied to his belt. "If tha's so I've done a lot of livin', and not enough learnin'." He slapped his thighs. "What of that now?'
Pain plagued her head, as well as the rest of her body. Looking up at him, she looked rather pitiful. "Sir, no offense meant, but no one can live by drink alone, and I'd have to say that that's really what you've been doing. Go on, change yourself before you end up like my mum. She's drunk all the time, selling herself on the streets. Then she gets angry when I don't go to see her. Let her rot in hell for all I care. I'm gone." She mumbled, rising from the bench to stumble away down the street. However, at the end of it, she collapsed, and had to nearly crawl to lean against another wall. Sleep deprivation and being drunk was NOT a good combination. Resting her head in her hands, she attempted sleep, but the cramped position wasn't too lenient. She was stuck awake, and with a horrible headache. Tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to fall. Moving her arm to brush them away, she let out a frustrated yell, before beginning to sing. After a bit, she managed to lull herself to sleep—something much needed.
"Ain't nothing wrong with a harlot," he laughed, shouting down the streets and watching her stumble. He leaned his head up against the wall and watched through eye slits for the ladies that would pass him by. He wanted to think about calling one down for hire, but as he clicked his coins and rings he grew drowsy. He fell asleep until morning-- morning with a horrible hangover and a ship to take to sea. He stood up and took off in the direction the girl had the night before, not remembering her or much of anything else as he tripped and mumbled in his own daze with the warming haze of the sun.
Being woken up by a kick in the stomach was not preferable. Holding in a groan, she stumbled to her feet, looking up into the face of her mum. A weak, "Oh, it's you." was placed, before she allowed a hand to stray to the sore spot.
The woman glared, brushing messy hair out of her eyes. "Where've you been?" She shrieked, which caused a wince out of Taya. "I've been lookin' all over fer you, and 'ere you are, sleepin' on th'street. If you'd just..."
Giving a shake of her head, she pulled away from the conversation, if you could call it that, and headed in the opposite direction. Getting out of Tortuga was preferable. Living here another day would end up killing her.
Heading to the docks, she wandered between ships, looking around for a Captain, or even sight of a crew. Getting discouraged, she sat on the edge of the docks, legs dangling off into greenish-blue water.
And so Captain Jack made his own way to the docks. He had stopped once to chat with a vendor and steal a pocket-watch off of the cart, not that it did him any good to know the time, but the gold was shiny and the thrill amazing enough to tip his mood in the right direction. With hopes he'd have his crew waiting on the Pearl he... stumbled as he almost hit that same girl. "Do you have some sort of strange compass?" he snorted, tapping his pockets and looking down at her. "What's your business on the docks?"
Jaw clenched, as her body moved into an automatic wince position. Moving a bit down the docks, she finally turned back to look at him, orbs dark. "Not a compass, but a need to remove myself from the island."
Knowing that his next question would be why, she hastily remarked, "I need off of the bloody island, because I don't have a home, I don't have even a shilling to my name, I hate the abuse, and I want to try my own hand at life." Grumbling, she looked out at the sea again, brushing straying locks from her face.
Removing the feathered hat from her head, she sighed slightly, and then replaced it, eyes closed once again, as she sunk into deep thought. Finally, "Do you have a place for another crew member?"
Jack brought his hand to his chin and stroked his beard as he listened. "Sitting on a dock won't change anything even if it does earn you a little pity." He grabbed hold of a rope that was tied to the dock, and looked about for the Pearl, which was a little further up. He threw his feet out each by each in a dramatic way just to where he could hop on the boat. With one hand in front and one hand behind, "What would you have to offer?" He stood on the edge of his ship, leaning forward with the support of some more ropes and boards and beautiful boat-things. He swayed back and forth and waited for a case.
Snarling, she turned away from him again. "I don't NEED your pity, or anyone else's for that matter."
Crossing her arms, she looked out toward a ship, the ship that Sparrow had indicated knowledge of. "I can clean, I can cook, I can kill, I can fight...Need I go on?" She listed monotonously.
Holding back a snicker at his show of balance, she canted her head, watching him. "I'll strike a deal with you. Aye? I'll race you to your ship, you in the boat, and I in the water. If I win, I get to join your crew, if I lose, which I shan't, you choose your way of torture."
Jack smiled, not sure if it was out of amusement for the situation or over her personality. There was something charming and familiar about it, not that he tried to stick any fingers anywhere. "If you say... how d'ya figure a deal as is fair, aye?" He jumped down from the side and began pacing the small boat and making notes of all the ropes he'd have to untie. He shaded his eyes and he looked out to the ship in the distance, noting the wind on his cheeks and in his hair past his ears.
Watching him struggle with the boat, she sat there, smirking, not offering a hand at all, nor a word of encouragement.
"How is the deal fair? Good question. I'm a woman, you're a man. Men are weaker than woman, hence the reason you get the boat, also the reason why I'm swimming. The whole goal thing is because I want on your boat, and you probably aren't thrilled about having a woman aboard. Then again, you are a tad on the strange side, so I dare say you take no heed of myths. Aye?"
Rolling her eyes, she massaged her temples with her fingers, once again, watching him.
"Vanity is a sin, I hear," he chuckled, taking out his knife and slicing a few of the ropes loose as the boat jolted off away from the dock and he stumbled to catch himself. He sliced another rope, and throwing it aside he moved a rudder and caught some wind to get the boat moving. "Superstition only makes life interesting nor it would be the first time a lubber was aboard neither." He put the knife away and leaned over the side of the boat and stared down at her on the dock.
Tossing her hat and coat into his boat, she leaped off of the dock, plunging into the water with flailing arms. Hey, not everyone can do the perfect swan dive. Actually, she just wanted to get him wet. Giving a grin, she waved, and then started swimming.
His eyes clenched shut after a little sting of salt water he cursed and spattered and came to his sense and adjusted what he could to move the boat in the right direction the fastest it would go. He had the upper hand for now.
Pushing herself forward, she moved under the water, eyes stinging so bad it was amazing she could see when she came back up. However, she NEEDED that passage out, and she wasn't about to give up without a fight. Wavering a moment, she plunged back under, and continued to swim, nearly to the rudder of Jack's boat.
The boast tugged and swayed and Jack curled his lip. It was that ruddy girl messing with the current and slowing him down. It was a calm day, a small boat, and it made him look silly for stealing the boat. He kicked a rope holding up a small sail and it sagged. Biting his lip in a pout he hurried to tighten it and lean into the wind.
Exhaustion decided to kick in as she reached the side of the boat. Bursting to the surface, she panted, eyes closed, chest heaving in and out so quickly it was sickening. Finally, she stared to move again, yet, the way being tired works, isn't exactly lenient. It grabbed a hold of Taya, and pulled her under, allowing her to breathe in the salt water, gag on the very essence of her being. Pushing herself toward the surface again, she grabbed onto the side of the boat, coughing hysterically.
The girl looked like she had gotten a lung full and slowing the boat Sparrow looked at her from a distance. Lowering his brows and pressing his thumb to his lip he lightly scolded, "You know that wouldn't fly well on the Pearl." He put one foot forward. "I daresay it'd be an embarrassment for a pirate."
Giving one final cough, she released the boat, and then pushed herself back under the water, once again. This was to prove to herself that she could do it, to prove to Sparrow that she could do it, to get out of the way of Tortuga—her life depended on this. Swimming toward the ship still, she rose to the surface, and hacked again, starting to shake now. Still, she went under to prove herself.
Kicking her legs free of the seaweed that bound her, she forced herself forward, nearly 3/4ths of the way to the Pearl. Stopping again, she attempted to catch her breath, but the salt within her mouth and lungs made it near impossible to breathe without coughing. Now wheezing, she swam toward Sparrow's boat, and looked up at him, throat raw as she muttered, "I can't do it."
Jack had been watching the whole time, and was more interested in somebody admitting just that than coming to the rescue. He shuffled over to the side and wrapped one of the ropes around his wrist and palm and offered his hand to her. He decided not to say anything until she was up in his boat, and then onto the Pearl where she could rest and some other drunk would have a quick remedy.
She took his hand, and pulled herself onto the boat with his assistance. Defeat was written across her features, and surely, she wasn't looking forward to remaining in Tortuga. Once again, she let out a tremendous cough, shaking all over again. Meeting his eyes, she smiled weakly, before pulling away from his gaze just as quickly. "Thank-you for helping me, Mr. Sparrow." Looking down at the boat, she studied her hands, and then the boat itself.
Mr. Sparrow gave a quick nod, and a half-smirk before chuckling to himself as he returned to the reigns. He steered the ship to the side of the Pearl and shouted up the side to get a rope... to get up... the ship... or something. "C'mon," he said softly, helping her onto the ship.
Shying away from him, she sidestepped away from him once on board, standing rather close to the edge, head down. Though, she had to say, the ship was impressive.
Anamaria tottered over to Jack, as did Gibbs, though he more or less sauntered, and raised an eyebrow. "Who's she?" Was inquired at the same time.
Both Gibbs and Anamaria glared at each other.
Finally, Anamaria grabbed Jack's arm. "She's a bit young, Jack." She remarked, feeling pity for the girl. "Didjoo change 'er, or did she flock t'you willingly?"
Taya was busy wandering around the top deck, cold, tired, and hungry--to care about what was going on.
Gibbs was following her around, however, and this, she found more than a tad bit unsettling.
__________________________________________________________
Hiya, yes, the first chapter is random. However, it took a while to post, and I had to clean up a bunch of my posts. Anyway, read and review. I'm dying to know your opinion. I love this role-play! MERF! I forgot to tell you that this story was Co-written with Lupin, who happens to be an EXTREMELY good friend. She role-played Jack, and I took Taya, Anamaria, Gibbs, and the harlot. But remember, SHE HAS THE BEST CHARACTER! Wee.
--Taya
Inside the tavern, many drunken pirates and harlots laughed, flirted, and the most usual thing—were getting drunk. Finally, three men, who had OBVIOUSLY had too much to drink, made their way toward the bartender's counter, and sat on it, beginning to sing.
Ashen tressed maiden slunk into the scene, shocked an amazed at the goings on. Actually, not really. Raising an eyebrow, she watched on, half hidden behind the counter. She'd always wanted to see someone in action, then again, she was hiding from a group of men, and her mother, both of which enjoyed following her around. Sighing softly, curiosity overcame, and she meandered over, still, wary of the situation.
Her attire consisted of a white billowy shirt, black-charcoal black-vest, blue jacket, long brown trousers, and boots. And yes, a black bandana was tied around her hair, concealing its true length, as did the feathered hat atop her head.
Giving a wicked grin, she watched, still amused by the goings on. Her hand wandered toward her cutlass, which was placed in its scabbard, which rested on her side, as did three jeweled daggers. Yet, she didn't show any sign of royalty, riches, or even the thought of a thief. More of a civilian, if you please.
"Gentlemen aren't usually welcomed these parts," slurred a drunk man in long black, beaded in spots, dreadlocks. A beard and mustache and dirty clothes of the day that he wore exceedingly well attired him. He leaned forward, placing a hand on the androgynously dressed figure and fell into thought, squeezing the shoulder a few times. Confused by the slim shoulders he skewed his face and with a mouth open, ready to question but mind not too sure of what to ask, he stared.
Jumping at the hand, she spun around, eyes narrowed, dagger inside the tightly coiled fist. Backing away from him into the bar, she looked at him with distrust. "Hence the reason I'm not a man." She retorted, her voice shaky.
"That so?" Jack's hand, left in the air twitched and wiggled before he threw it back in a wide stretch and brought it back around behind him to hold with the hand left free the whole time. Holding it tight with ringed fingers he bowed to peer closer. "Then what are you?" he teased.
"Certainly not what you think." She snapped, sidestepping out of his way, and nearly pole-bended around people to get out of the tavern. Shuddering, she rested outside of the tavern, head hung, eyes closed. An everyday occurrence had scared her that bad? Not usual. Resting an exposed wrist on her forehead, she sighed gently, when she concluded that she was fine. Walking away from the tavern, she ambled down the road, this time, dagger was being played with.
Grabbing a glass of ale from a sleeping man at the counter Sparrow weaved out of the tavern after the dandy, or girl, or whatever that was. Standing outside of the entrance and watching a lazy bar fight finish up just out into the roadway he watched the person wander off, not sure if he should chance the scared little thing. He felt some sympathy for it, but then again, there was probably some fun much rather attended to inside. He finished up the drink.
Pulling off the coat due to heat, she walked about, tying it around her waist. Finally stopping, she took off the hat, and set herself down outside of a hotel, resting on a bench. Routine. Some freak touches you, inquires your sex, and then you run and find somewhere else to be. There wasn't anyone to talk to, to be friends with except the occasional boy who happened to land here by mistake. Wenches and Drunks. "Just my luck." She mumbled, leaning her head against the wall of the hotel from the bench, eyes closed again. "Sleep...not...good."
A few hours later Jack was in a blind stupor, barely able to find his way to the hotel. He had a horrendous woody and jiggling a few coins in the palm of his hand as he stumbled, skipped and swayed he was off to find a harlot! A good harlot for some good times before they boarded tomorrow and he'd be stuck with a whole shitload full of males. Although as he approached the hotel he noticed somebody familiar, and sex was no longer on his mind. Approaching with his now-bulletless-pistol in hand he bent over and goaded the child. "This here's no place for you, go home to yer bed, Kid."
Rousing, she looked up at him with sleep deprived eyes. "Don't 'ave a 'ome." She mumbled, curling up slightly on the bench, eyes blinking a couple hundred times as she struggled to push herself awake. Glancing at him, she suddenly realized who he was. Half snarling, she glared. "Go away."
"We'll that's rather unfortunate," he said simply, forcing a seat next to her. He leaned his head against the cool wall himself. Aaah, it helped clear his drunk head! "Because I'm not leaving." He had no better idea who she was or was not.
Grumbling, she struggled to get up, head swimming. "You're sitting on my feet." Bouncing on the bench, she toppled over the edge, and then wrenched her feet out from under him. Grunting in pain as she collided with the ground, she swung her feet over her head, and then stood, wobbling for a few seconds. "They shouldn't sell drink to minors." Blinking again, she went back and sat down, eyes closed.
The captain didn't make an effort to move, finding much more amusement and pleasure in the girl tumbling and rolling. He was too drunk to rise to his own feet. "One of those Christian types?" he asked as she took her seat again and he began to toss at coin in the air and catch it.
Propping up her head with a hand, she winced slightly. "It's called Live and Learn. You drink the drink, and then you regret it later. Live and Learn." Twitching slightly, she looked over at him with bloodshot eyes. "Maybe you're used to it, but honestly, the war going on in my head is bad enough without you jolting about so much. If you'd refrain from MOVING, maybe I could go back to sleep." She snapped, too sore to move away from him.
"Live..." Jack drawed out, holding the coin tight in between fingers. "And learn..." He snapped the coin and fed it back to his coin purse under a pocket in his jacket and tied to his belt. "If tha's so I've done a lot of livin', and not enough learnin'." He slapped his thighs. "What of that now?'
Pain plagued her head, as well as the rest of her body. Looking up at him, she looked rather pitiful. "Sir, no offense meant, but no one can live by drink alone, and I'd have to say that that's really what you've been doing. Go on, change yourself before you end up like my mum. She's drunk all the time, selling herself on the streets. Then she gets angry when I don't go to see her. Let her rot in hell for all I care. I'm gone." She mumbled, rising from the bench to stumble away down the street. However, at the end of it, she collapsed, and had to nearly crawl to lean against another wall. Sleep deprivation and being drunk was NOT a good combination. Resting her head in her hands, she attempted sleep, but the cramped position wasn't too lenient. She was stuck awake, and with a horrible headache. Tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to fall. Moving her arm to brush them away, she let out a frustrated yell, before beginning to sing. After a bit, she managed to lull herself to sleep—something much needed.
"Ain't nothing wrong with a harlot," he laughed, shouting down the streets and watching her stumble. He leaned his head up against the wall and watched through eye slits for the ladies that would pass him by. He wanted to think about calling one down for hire, but as he clicked his coins and rings he grew drowsy. He fell asleep until morning-- morning with a horrible hangover and a ship to take to sea. He stood up and took off in the direction the girl had the night before, not remembering her or much of anything else as he tripped and mumbled in his own daze with the warming haze of the sun.
Being woken up by a kick in the stomach was not preferable. Holding in a groan, she stumbled to her feet, looking up into the face of her mum. A weak, "Oh, it's you." was placed, before she allowed a hand to stray to the sore spot.
The woman glared, brushing messy hair out of her eyes. "Where've you been?" She shrieked, which caused a wince out of Taya. "I've been lookin' all over fer you, and 'ere you are, sleepin' on th'street. If you'd just..."
Giving a shake of her head, she pulled away from the conversation, if you could call it that, and headed in the opposite direction. Getting out of Tortuga was preferable. Living here another day would end up killing her.
Heading to the docks, she wandered between ships, looking around for a Captain, or even sight of a crew. Getting discouraged, she sat on the edge of the docks, legs dangling off into greenish-blue water.
And so Captain Jack made his own way to the docks. He had stopped once to chat with a vendor and steal a pocket-watch off of the cart, not that it did him any good to know the time, but the gold was shiny and the thrill amazing enough to tip his mood in the right direction. With hopes he'd have his crew waiting on the Pearl he... stumbled as he almost hit that same girl. "Do you have some sort of strange compass?" he snorted, tapping his pockets and looking down at her. "What's your business on the docks?"
Jaw clenched, as her body moved into an automatic wince position. Moving a bit down the docks, she finally turned back to look at him, orbs dark. "Not a compass, but a need to remove myself from the island."
Knowing that his next question would be why, she hastily remarked, "I need off of the bloody island, because I don't have a home, I don't have even a shilling to my name, I hate the abuse, and I want to try my own hand at life." Grumbling, she looked out at the sea again, brushing straying locks from her face.
Removing the feathered hat from her head, she sighed slightly, and then replaced it, eyes closed once again, as she sunk into deep thought. Finally, "Do you have a place for another crew member?"
Jack brought his hand to his chin and stroked his beard as he listened. "Sitting on a dock won't change anything even if it does earn you a little pity." He grabbed hold of a rope that was tied to the dock, and looked about for the Pearl, which was a little further up. He threw his feet out each by each in a dramatic way just to where he could hop on the boat. With one hand in front and one hand behind, "What would you have to offer?" He stood on the edge of his ship, leaning forward with the support of some more ropes and boards and beautiful boat-things. He swayed back and forth and waited for a case.
Snarling, she turned away from him again. "I don't NEED your pity, or anyone else's for that matter."
Crossing her arms, she looked out toward a ship, the ship that Sparrow had indicated knowledge of. "I can clean, I can cook, I can kill, I can fight...Need I go on?" She listed monotonously.
Holding back a snicker at his show of balance, she canted her head, watching him. "I'll strike a deal with you. Aye? I'll race you to your ship, you in the boat, and I in the water. If I win, I get to join your crew, if I lose, which I shan't, you choose your way of torture."
Jack smiled, not sure if it was out of amusement for the situation or over her personality. There was something charming and familiar about it, not that he tried to stick any fingers anywhere. "If you say... how d'ya figure a deal as is fair, aye?" He jumped down from the side and began pacing the small boat and making notes of all the ropes he'd have to untie. He shaded his eyes and he looked out to the ship in the distance, noting the wind on his cheeks and in his hair past his ears.
Watching him struggle with the boat, she sat there, smirking, not offering a hand at all, nor a word of encouragement.
"How is the deal fair? Good question. I'm a woman, you're a man. Men are weaker than woman, hence the reason you get the boat, also the reason why I'm swimming. The whole goal thing is because I want on your boat, and you probably aren't thrilled about having a woman aboard. Then again, you are a tad on the strange side, so I dare say you take no heed of myths. Aye?"
Rolling her eyes, she massaged her temples with her fingers, once again, watching him.
"Vanity is a sin, I hear," he chuckled, taking out his knife and slicing a few of the ropes loose as the boat jolted off away from the dock and he stumbled to catch himself. He sliced another rope, and throwing it aside he moved a rudder and caught some wind to get the boat moving. "Superstition only makes life interesting nor it would be the first time a lubber was aboard neither." He put the knife away and leaned over the side of the boat and stared down at her on the dock.
Tossing her hat and coat into his boat, she leaped off of the dock, plunging into the water with flailing arms. Hey, not everyone can do the perfect swan dive. Actually, she just wanted to get him wet. Giving a grin, she waved, and then started swimming.
His eyes clenched shut after a little sting of salt water he cursed and spattered and came to his sense and adjusted what he could to move the boat in the right direction the fastest it would go. He had the upper hand for now.
Pushing herself forward, she moved under the water, eyes stinging so bad it was amazing she could see when she came back up. However, she NEEDED that passage out, and she wasn't about to give up without a fight. Wavering a moment, she plunged back under, and continued to swim, nearly to the rudder of Jack's boat.
The boast tugged and swayed and Jack curled his lip. It was that ruddy girl messing with the current and slowing him down. It was a calm day, a small boat, and it made him look silly for stealing the boat. He kicked a rope holding up a small sail and it sagged. Biting his lip in a pout he hurried to tighten it and lean into the wind.
Exhaustion decided to kick in as she reached the side of the boat. Bursting to the surface, she panted, eyes closed, chest heaving in and out so quickly it was sickening. Finally, she stared to move again, yet, the way being tired works, isn't exactly lenient. It grabbed a hold of Taya, and pulled her under, allowing her to breathe in the salt water, gag on the very essence of her being. Pushing herself toward the surface again, she grabbed onto the side of the boat, coughing hysterically.
The girl looked like she had gotten a lung full and slowing the boat Sparrow looked at her from a distance. Lowering his brows and pressing his thumb to his lip he lightly scolded, "You know that wouldn't fly well on the Pearl." He put one foot forward. "I daresay it'd be an embarrassment for a pirate."
Giving one final cough, she released the boat, and then pushed herself back under the water, once again. This was to prove to herself that she could do it, to prove to Sparrow that she could do it, to get out of the way of Tortuga—her life depended on this. Swimming toward the ship still, she rose to the surface, and hacked again, starting to shake now. Still, she went under to prove herself.
Kicking her legs free of the seaweed that bound her, she forced herself forward, nearly 3/4ths of the way to the Pearl. Stopping again, she attempted to catch her breath, but the salt within her mouth and lungs made it near impossible to breathe without coughing. Now wheezing, she swam toward Sparrow's boat, and looked up at him, throat raw as she muttered, "I can't do it."
Jack had been watching the whole time, and was more interested in somebody admitting just that than coming to the rescue. He shuffled over to the side and wrapped one of the ropes around his wrist and palm and offered his hand to her. He decided not to say anything until she was up in his boat, and then onto the Pearl where she could rest and some other drunk would have a quick remedy.
She took his hand, and pulled herself onto the boat with his assistance. Defeat was written across her features, and surely, she wasn't looking forward to remaining in Tortuga. Once again, she let out a tremendous cough, shaking all over again. Meeting his eyes, she smiled weakly, before pulling away from his gaze just as quickly. "Thank-you for helping me, Mr. Sparrow." Looking down at the boat, she studied her hands, and then the boat itself.
Mr. Sparrow gave a quick nod, and a half-smirk before chuckling to himself as he returned to the reigns. He steered the ship to the side of the Pearl and shouted up the side to get a rope... to get up... the ship... or something. "C'mon," he said softly, helping her onto the ship.
Shying away from him, she sidestepped away from him once on board, standing rather close to the edge, head down. Though, she had to say, the ship was impressive.
Anamaria tottered over to Jack, as did Gibbs, though he more or less sauntered, and raised an eyebrow. "Who's she?" Was inquired at the same time.
Both Gibbs and Anamaria glared at each other.
Finally, Anamaria grabbed Jack's arm. "She's a bit young, Jack." She remarked, feeling pity for the girl. "Didjoo change 'er, or did she flock t'you willingly?"
Taya was busy wandering around the top deck, cold, tired, and hungry--to care about what was going on.
Gibbs was following her around, however, and this, she found more than a tad bit unsettling.
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Hiya, yes, the first chapter is random. However, it took a while to post, and I had to clean up a bunch of my posts. Anyway, read and review. I'm dying to know your opinion. I love this role-play! MERF! I forgot to tell you that this story was Co-written with Lupin, who happens to be an EXTREMELY good friend. She role-played Jack, and I took Taya, Anamaria, Gibbs, and the harlot. But remember, SHE HAS THE BEST CHARACTER! Wee.
--Taya