~~Disclaimer: I do not own anything with the exception of any characters I create.~~
The darkness sheathed her from the eyes of her predators; and for this she was thankful, for the streets were dangerous when you could be seen by those who wanted you dead.
Lifting her violet eyes to the night sky she breathed in lightly, wishing for the Caribbean air instead of the foul, stench ridden, air of the littered towns. Quickening her pace she walked down to the port to find sanctuary between the ships. She may not have been a captain anymore, but she still enjoyed the company of her best mates- the ships. The ships were the only ones who had never failed her; it had always been she who had failed them. And because of her carelessness she was destined to be kept from her true love, from the water and the sea, and from her freedom. She was doomed to wander in the town, fighting for her life. It was pitiful how far she had fallen, but that could not be helped now.
Pushing her long, raven tresses off her face, she sat down between the ships, wondering how long she could sleep before she would be caught. Not long, she estimated for dawn's rose fingers would touch the sky soon and it would be just her luck to be discovered and thrown over to the authorities. But still, she was so tired . . . just a little while. With that she curled into a fetal position, and sleep graced her eyelids, though her hand never strayed from her sword.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack sighed with contentment; he had been away from the company of his rum for far to long now. Slumping farther down against his chair, he sighed again as the warmth from his drink coated his entrails and made him tingly inside. 'Tis a nice feeling, alright, Jack thought before he felt his head begin to fall over and sleep beg to kiss his lids.
"Port in sight! I say, PORT IN SIGHT!" Gibbs bellowed out. "Capt'n, we've reached-"
"Yes, I know-port. Ye needn't say it more'n once, Gibbs." Jack answered wryly. I may 'av been drink in me cabin, but I ain't so deaf. In fact when ye drunk your sense of hearing is heightened," Jack muttered, rubbbing his head as it throbbed from every sound.
"Sorry, but I never know what ye be doing. I didna want to walk in on you an' risk 'aving me head blown off by ye pistol."
Jack turned back to his cabin, muttering, "Ye'd be losing more then ye head if ye bother me while I was spending time with me sweet rum. Ye lucky I don't feel like embarrassing ye in front of the whole damned crew."
Rolling his head in circles to relieve some of the tension in his shoulders and neck, Jack thought about what he would do that day. Port meant town, which meant rum and other things of entertainment.
It was still night, so he could dock his ship and still have fewer worries about being taken in by authorities. Frowning, he picked up the empty bottle of rum and turned it over watching but one drop cling to the rim. Sighing, he bellowed out to his crew, "PORT! Dock now, Capt'n has got some place to be"
The darkness sheathed her from the eyes of her predators; and for this she was thankful, for the streets were dangerous when you could be seen by those who wanted you dead.
Lifting her violet eyes to the night sky she breathed in lightly, wishing for the Caribbean air instead of the foul, stench ridden, air of the littered towns. Quickening her pace she walked down to the port to find sanctuary between the ships. She may not have been a captain anymore, but she still enjoyed the company of her best mates- the ships. The ships were the only ones who had never failed her; it had always been she who had failed them. And because of her carelessness she was destined to be kept from her true love, from the water and the sea, and from her freedom. She was doomed to wander in the town, fighting for her life. It was pitiful how far she had fallen, but that could not be helped now.
Pushing her long, raven tresses off her face, she sat down between the ships, wondering how long she could sleep before she would be caught. Not long, she estimated for dawn's rose fingers would touch the sky soon and it would be just her luck to be discovered and thrown over to the authorities. But still, she was so tired . . . just a little while. With that she curled into a fetal position, and sleep graced her eyelids, though her hand never strayed from her sword.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack sighed with contentment; he had been away from the company of his rum for far to long now. Slumping farther down against his chair, he sighed again as the warmth from his drink coated his entrails and made him tingly inside. 'Tis a nice feeling, alright, Jack thought before he felt his head begin to fall over and sleep beg to kiss his lids.
"Port in sight! I say, PORT IN SIGHT!" Gibbs bellowed out. "Capt'n, we've reached-"
"Yes, I know-port. Ye needn't say it more'n once, Gibbs." Jack answered wryly. I may 'av been drink in me cabin, but I ain't so deaf. In fact when ye drunk your sense of hearing is heightened," Jack muttered, rubbbing his head as it throbbed from every sound.
"Sorry, but I never know what ye be doing. I didna want to walk in on you an' risk 'aving me head blown off by ye pistol."
Jack turned back to his cabin, muttering, "Ye'd be losing more then ye head if ye bother me while I was spending time with me sweet rum. Ye lucky I don't feel like embarrassing ye in front of the whole damned crew."
Rolling his head in circles to relieve some of the tension in his shoulders and neck, Jack thought about what he would do that day. Port meant town, which meant rum and other things of entertainment.
It was still night, so he could dock his ship and still have fewer worries about being taken in by authorities. Frowning, he picked up the empty bottle of rum and turned it over watching but one drop cling to the rim. Sighing, he bellowed out to his crew, "PORT! Dock now, Capt'n has got some place to be"