Hopefully this isn't a huge flop. Hopefully.
Author's Note: Same as before. I don't own anyone … except … a little new character. ^^
"How did you get past the dock?"
Jack lowered his mug of ale and grinned. "Ye ferget one thing, mate – I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow."
"So you bribed the quartermaster. Figures."
Jack beamed a phony smile at Will and continued drinking. Finishing one mug, he placed it, empty, next to the line of other mugs devoid of liquor on the table and reached for another.
"What brings you back to Port Royale, Jack?"
"Visitin' old friends."
Leaning closer, Will laughed. "Why do I doubt it would be that simple?"
"Well – visitin' old friends with a proposition."
Will rolled his eyes. "I'm listening."
Jack's kohl-lined eyes glimmered in the candlelight, glassy from intoxication, frenzied in the excitement of telling his tale.
"Pirate's tales, as ye know, aren' much of fact. More superstition and embellishment – but in the tales, the truth is real. Nigh fifteen years ago, the British set sail from the Ivory Coast with a fleet of ships loaded with diamonds, ivory, gold, and slaves. 'Bout two weeks into the voyage, a plague breaks out in the crew, and slowly, one by one – they fell into fits of fever, vomiting, and internal ruptures. Pirates say the African slaves pulled a curse on them –", Jack waved his arms manically, " – Voodoo. But never mind that. The Africans tried to steer the fleet back to Africa, bringing them back to native soil. But they never made it. Their ships were blown off course, sending the fleet crashing into islands in the Spanish Main. And of the treasure hidden inside these ships? There's ne'er been a word uttered since."
The captain stared the silent man. Will's brow was furrowed deeply.
"It's a cursed treasure, then."
Jack averted his eyes to his drink. "Aye."
"Haven't you had enough of cursed treasure? The Aztec gold didn't frighten you enough? Are you seeking to get this curse placed on yourself?" Will whispered savagely.
Jack winked. "It's the risk that makes it all the more int'restin'." He downed the rest of his mug. "Jus' a proposition, mate. I haven' signed ye on or anything. Think about it." He swept his tattered hat from the table and plopped it on his head, turning to go.
"What makes you so sure that you can find it?" Will rose and followed the man out of the door.
Lurching forward, and spinning around, Jack faced him and smiled an aloof grin. Lifting his hat slightly from his head, he shrugged – "I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow, mate."
"Even then! It's a madman's mission!"
The humid night air of the Caribbean pressed down upon the night-life inhabitants of Port Royal. Cloaked in the gloom of dimming lights, the two men walked down a small side street in the rougher districts of the port. Jack swayed as he walked, staring pointedly at passing bosoms belonging to girls with garishly painted faces. Hmm, bosoms. Better than Tortuga. At least no Giselle, or Vanessa …
Will clapped him on the shoulder and led him down an alleyway.
"Jack. Do not do this. It's insane. It's worse than insane. It's … mad. You're mad."
His speech slurred even more than usual, Jack shouted, "I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow and I'm mad!"
Will slapped his hand over Jack's mouth. Jack bit at it and stepped free from Will's grapple into the street. He eyed a prostitute on the street hopefully as she batted her thickly decorated eyelashes at him.
"Ow! Shut up you scoundrel! You're still wanted here!"
"Apparently." Jack was still staring at the street whore who was now pouting and whimpering at him.
Will pulled him away, walking towards the docks – and his home. "You're drunk."
Jack looked at him, a dazed, puzzled expression on his face. "Drunk? Never!"
And as soon as his head spun to face the docks once more, the pirate's eyes widened and he abruptly turned around, startling Will. "Well, m'dear boy, I s'pose I'll be leavin' …"
Will looked concernedly at him – "What is it? Soldiers?"
Eyes still wide, Jack stared at him and pulled him closer. "Wors'n the whole bloody garrison." He nodded in the direction of the dock. Will glanced that way. Nothing peculiar. People, teaming all around – more like dark silhouettes of shadow, really.
"What?"
Jack kept nodding that way. Will continued to stare.
"There's nothing, Jack! Drinking's finally addled your brain!"
"Look hard'r, boy."
And so he did. Searching in the direction of Jack's head, he found himself staring at an odd character that sat alone on rope against the dock.
"The girl?"
Jack looked around – "Aye."
Will looked intently at the lone figure perched atop one of the posts that kept civilians from falling into the port water. In the dim light, he could make out short hair that lapped gently in the humid evening breeze, a profile of nothing exquisite in the least, and like another female pirate he had once had the surprise of meeting, she wore britches and a billowing shirt. Two items jutted out from her side, and in the dying moon's light, he could make out a pistol and a cutlass.
"Who is she?"
Jack, still looking as though he'd accidentally taken a sip of molten fire, looked Will in the eyes. "Ye wouldn' wan' ter be messin' with that lass."
"Is she dangerous?"
Jack glanced waywardly at the outline of the girl. "Aye. If ye get on 'er bad side."
"And I suppose you have?"
Jack paused. "Le's jus' say it's a matter of 'leverage'."
The blacksmith looked at the girl; or at least, the spot where she was sitting, now devoid of its former occupant.
"What did you do to her?"
"I …"
Jack never got to finish his sentence for himself, as a kick landed on his back, sending him sprawling to the dirty street.
"You lost me my crew."
Author's Note: Same as before. I don't own anyone … except … a little new character. ^^
"How did you get past the dock?"
Jack lowered his mug of ale and grinned. "Ye ferget one thing, mate – I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow."
"So you bribed the quartermaster. Figures."
Jack beamed a phony smile at Will and continued drinking. Finishing one mug, he placed it, empty, next to the line of other mugs devoid of liquor on the table and reached for another.
"What brings you back to Port Royale, Jack?"
"Visitin' old friends."
Leaning closer, Will laughed. "Why do I doubt it would be that simple?"
"Well – visitin' old friends with a proposition."
Will rolled his eyes. "I'm listening."
Jack's kohl-lined eyes glimmered in the candlelight, glassy from intoxication, frenzied in the excitement of telling his tale.
"Pirate's tales, as ye know, aren' much of fact. More superstition and embellishment – but in the tales, the truth is real. Nigh fifteen years ago, the British set sail from the Ivory Coast with a fleet of ships loaded with diamonds, ivory, gold, and slaves. 'Bout two weeks into the voyage, a plague breaks out in the crew, and slowly, one by one – they fell into fits of fever, vomiting, and internal ruptures. Pirates say the African slaves pulled a curse on them –", Jack waved his arms manically, " – Voodoo. But never mind that. The Africans tried to steer the fleet back to Africa, bringing them back to native soil. But they never made it. Their ships were blown off course, sending the fleet crashing into islands in the Spanish Main. And of the treasure hidden inside these ships? There's ne'er been a word uttered since."
The captain stared the silent man. Will's brow was furrowed deeply.
"It's a cursed treasure, then."
Jack averted his eyes to his drink. "Aye."
"Haven't you had enough of cursed treasure? The Aztec gold didn't frighten you enough? Are you seeking to get this curse placed on yourself?" Will whispered savagely.
Jack winked. "It's the risk that makes it all the more int'restin'." He downed the rest of his mug. "Jus' a proposition, mate. I haven' signed ye on or anything. Think about it." He swept his tattered hat from the table and plopped it on his head, turning to go.
"What makes you so sure that you can find it?" Will rose and followed the man out of the door.
Lurching forward, and spinning around, Jack faced him and smiled an aloof grin. Lifting his hat slightly from his head, he shrugged – "I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow, mate."
"Even then! It's a madman's mission!"
The humid night air of the Caribbean pressed down upon the night-life inhabitants of Port Royal. Cloaked in the gloom of dimming lights, the two men walked down a small side street in the rougher districts of the port. Jack swayed as he walked, staring pointedly at passing bosoms belonging to girls with garishly painted faces. Hmm, bosoms. Better than Tortuga. At least no Giselle, or Vanessa …
Will clapped him on the shoulder and led him down an alleyway.
"Jack. Do not do this. It's insane. It's worse than insane. It's … mad. You're mad."
His speech slurred even more than usual, Jack shouted, "I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow and I'm mad!"
Will slapped his hand over Jack's mouth. Jack bit at it and stepped free from Will's grapple into the street. He eyed a prostitute on the street hopefully as she batted her thickly decorated eyelashes at him.
"Ow! Shut up you scoundrel! You're still wanted here!"
"Apparently." Jack was still staring at the street whore who was now pouting and whimpering at him.
Will pulled him away, walking towards the docks – and his home. "You're drunk."
Jack looked at him, a dazed, puzzled expression on his face. "Drunk? Never!"
And as soon as his head spun to face the docks once more, the pirate's eyes widened and he abruptly turned around, startling Will. "Well, m'dear boy, I s'pose I'll be leavin' …"
Will looked concernedly at him – "What is it? Soldiers?"
Eyes still wide, Jack stared at him and pulled him closer. "Wors'n the whole bloody garrison." He nodded in the direction of the dock. Will glanced that way. Nothing peculiar. People, teaming all around – more like dark silhouettes of shadow, really.
"What?"
Jack kept nodding that way. Will continued to stare.
"There's nothing, Jack! Drinking's finally addled your brain!"
"Look hard'r, boy."
And so he did. Searching in the direction of Jack's head, he found himself staring at an odd character that sat alone on rope against the dock.
"The girl?"
Jack looked around – "Aye."
Will looked intently at the lone figure perched atop one of the posts that kept civilians from falling into the port water. In the dim light, he could make out short hair that lapped gently in the humid evening breeze, a profile of nothing exquisite in the least, and like another female pirate he had once had the surprise of meeting, she wore britches and a billowing shirt. Two items jutted out from her side, and in the dying moon's light, he could make out a pistol and a cutlass.
"Who is she?"
Jack, still looking as though he'd accidentally taken a sip of molten fire, looked Will in the eyes. "Ye wouldn' wan' ter be messin' with that lass."
"Is she dangerous?"
Jack glanced waywardly at the outline of the girl. "Aye. If ye get on 'er bad side."
"And I suppose you have?"
Jack paused. "Le's jus' say it's a matter of 'leverage'."
The blacksmith looked at the girl; or at least, the spot where she was sitting, now devoid of its former occupant.
"What did you do to her?"
"I …"
Jack never got to finish his sentence for himself, as a kick landed on his back, sending him sprawling to the dirty street.
"You lost me my crew."