"And did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Mary saw the Black Pearl!!"

"No! No she didn't, she said it didn't have black sails."

"Well then what ship was it? I thought Commodore Norrington at Port Royal at captured all of the other pirates…"

"So did he."

A young woman looked up from where she sat. She had dirty-looking blonde hair held up with a blue bandana, rough clothes, and bag thrown over her shoulder. Her darkly outlined eyes glanced toward the group of women, who were merrily gossiping.

"Well--when did she see this ship?"

"Just the other day, from what I hear. She saw it at the port."

"Is it still there??"

"Why, are you going to go scold them?"

The women laughed. Another woman rushed up next to them from down near the docks and tapped one of them on the shoulder.

"Mary!!" One of them gasped, trying to hide a smile.

The new woman, Mary, stared at the group wide-eyed. "At the docks--a ship with black sails!! It's the Black Pearl!!"

The young woman stood up, bag in hand, and with a barely noticeable nod towards the group, headed toward the water's edge, walking distinctively toward a man, a pirate, coming from the large tall-ship with black sails; the Black Pearl.

The pirate had an appearance of being drunk--either that, or terribly disoriented. He was clad in a heavy brown jacket, leather boots, and a presumably once-clean white shirt. Around his waist was a loosely tied sash, colored, strangely enough, in a faded sort of pinkish-coral and cream. On his head was a heavily worn, brown leather tricorn hat. This hat covered his hair, which was a very dark brown, nearly black, and done in dreadlocks in front. Several small amounts of hair lining his face were braided and beaded, one specific braid having a large silver medallion attached at the bottom. The hair in the back of his head was loose and somewhat curly, if you could call it that, and a decent portion of it was covered by a thick braid. Around his forehead, mostly hidden by his hat, was a red bandana that was knotted and had a hefty quantity of fabric trailing after it. He had a fairly thin, black moustache and a small beard that was split into two parts and braided, as well as a small tuft of hair just beneath his lip. He seemed to singing something under his breath. It sounded strangely like something about 'bad eggs.'

He looked up at the woman, who was still heading towards him. He raised his dark eyebrows and stopped walking.

"Sarah!" He said, a hint of amusement, as well as surprise, in his low, raspy voice.

It only had taken her a few more steps to reach him, now that he had stopped, and, before he could say anything, she stretched out one hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"I don't think I deserved that…"

"Jack Sparrow!"

"Captain Jack Sparrow, actually."

Sarah Warren smiled wryly and placed her hands on her hips. "Captain Jack Sparrow." She slapped him again.

"I definitely didn't deserve that one."

"Oh you didn't, did you?" She glared at him, dropping her bag. "Really. That's interesting. Gee, I'm sure I could find a good condemnation--"

"You know, there actually was a reason that I didn't hire you on the Pearl." Jack rubbed his face sourly. Sarah narrowed her eyes and tilted her head casually. She threw her hands into the air.

"I'm SURE."

Jack frowned and slightly lifted a finger in protest. "Ah--to be quite honest with you, I heard you were here, so…" He mashed his mouth thoughtfully, to one side of his face for a moment, then continued; "I came to ask you if you'll…come work on the Pearl…?" His face looked hopeful, and at the same time, very skeptical.

As did Sarah's.

"Come work on the Pearl?" She stared at him for a moment, as if considering, then barked a laugh. "Hah!! Never! You had your chance."

He sighed, then, with a determined tone and a grin, he added, "Oh good, because I was bluffing."

"Well you CERTAINLY had me fooled!!" She snapped, smirking. He just growled, a little frustrated. She turned around. "I'll be seeing you Jack." Her hand gripped her bag again and she flung it over her shoulder.

There was no way to win this conversation, and as she began to walk away, he sighed, feeling a bit defeated. Frowning for a moment, he dropped his jaw a bit, then advanced slightly, lifting his index finger again.

"…Sarah, wait!"

She turned lazily. He walked closer to her and noted the look on her face--annoyance and impatience. He carefully chose his words, then spoke.

"You're still in the pirating business, aye?" He watched her roll her eyes and shift her weight to her other foot.

"No Jack, I'm not. I married the Prince of Wales over the summer and I'm here to stake out land for a new fort." She smiled in an almost sincere grin and Jack loosely thought that, for a sarcastic, sore bat, she was quite attractive wit this expression--even if her smirk was mocking. There was a long silence, then her grin faded. "Aye, of course I'm still in the pirating business."

"Well then, where's your ship?"

"…" An odd look crossed her face--some sort of cross between embarrassed and furious--then it was replaced by a cool, wry smile. "I'm in the market. As it were."

"Just…think it over, please? You don't have to accept the offer…but…will you meet me at the Flintlock Pub tonight?" He cringed preemptively, awaiting her recoil in the form of a biting remark or worse, a sharp smack, but instead she faltered in her reply, then turned her head.

"Fine." She answered. "But avast, Jack--any attempt at something untrustworthy, and you'll find yourself missing a good deal of skin, savvy?"

"…Savvy."

As she strolled away, Jack sighed and relaxed, wondering how and why he put up with her. If this attitude kept up, he wasn't sure if he would want her on his ship anymore. Superstition or not, it was better to keep such hot-headed women off of a seafaring vessel, in Jack's not so humble opinion. They weren't worth the trouble they caused, not in the least bit. Well…maybe a little. He grinned as this thought entertained him, and headed on his way.

"What nerve…" Sarah muttered, passing the very tavern where she was supposed to meet Jack later that night. "It's bloody rash to ask that after he marooned me." She shifted the bag on her shoulder, then stopped and leaned against a wall. "Though it does make me curious as to what he'll say if I do show up…maybe it is worth my while." She smiled. "Looks like I'll be at the Flintlock Pub tonight."

In yet another tavern, not too far away, a young woman with exotic red hair sat at a table, surrounded by men offering her drinks and not so lively conversation. She was resting her face on her hand, bored to the extreme--at least she didn't have to pay for refreshment.

"So, Miss Frost, I hear you sail aboard the Death Lily." One man said. She looked up and narrowed her ebony eyes.

"I own the Death Lily, and don't you forget it." She replied in a heavy, Irish accent.

"Own it! That's mighty fine there, Miss, now, why be a lovely young wo'man like yerself getting' involved with pirates, eh?"

She looked away. "For the treasure, of course." Some men could be so dimwitted. She tapped several long fingernails on the surface of the table and listened to the men chatter.

"Ah, ye be the real treasure, Miss Frost, let me buy ye another drink…" The man disappeared and another took his place. For a woman who seemed so disinterested in men, she sure had a lot of admirers. The new guy spoke then:

"So you're the captain of the Death Lily?" He had an American accent--not to common in the Caribbean--and it sounded flat and dull compared the to many eclectic voiced populating the islands.

"Aye."

"Well! I feel bad for them men--must be terrible then for your crew--everyone knows a woman is bad luck to have aboard! Unless, of course, she's a captive from a raid, and even then she's only good for one night!" He guffawed and slapped his knee, finding it very hilarious that a lady would be on a ship, let alone a captain of said ship. Captain Frost raised her head, not turning her face to the man. She merely glanced at him, her pale hands now resting on the table, then relieved him of his left eyes in a mediocre display of crimson and silver. Amid the cries of pain, she replaced her knife and said to the man:

"You're welcome to share your opinion, and I'm open to it, but only if you're willing and ready to lose both of you're eyes." She turned to the remainder of the wide-eyed group. "I bid you g'day, gentleman." She made her way easily through the crowd (most of the people were making a path for her to get through), and pushed past a messy, dreadlocked, slightly familiar man when she arrived at the door. "Move." She said to him. He stepped back and stared at her as she left, right up until the point where the door slammed in his face and he fell over from the force.

Outside, yet another man was standing, patiently waiting for someone. That someone happened to be our friend, Miss Frost. The man had silver hair that hung down a bit in his eyes, mismatched and rough-looking clothes, and finely tanned skin.

He glanced at the captain and raised his eyebrows so that they nearly disappeared beneath his hair.

"I thought I'd find you here." He said as she turned around and looked at him. She nodded sarcastically.

"Didja now?" She smiled a very tiny bit. He did as well, then they began to walk toward the docks, talking at sparse intervals along the way. Eventually, he looked toward her bloody hand.

"Fight?"

"Aye, and you'd best stop askin' questions if ye plan to keep your hands."

He laughed and she smirked, crossing her arms. "I know you're lying--we're too good of friends for your lies to convince me." He grinned.

"And I know you're too afraid to question me."

Miss Frost and the man were nearly to the Death Lily when she stopped to stare at the blonde-haired figure standing in front of it, staring with a curious air. Frowning, she walked over to the person and tapped them on the shoulder.

"Aye! What are ye doing standing in front of me ship?" She said. The person was a woman, older than the captain, but shorter in height.

"This is your ship?" She asked, looking bewildered. It was Sarah. Miss Frost stuck out her jaw for a moment, then reversed her face to the way it was.

"Yes, my ship. Why are ye staring at it?"

"...Ah--I'd like to work on it." She looked confused. The captain wasn't exactly the politest captain she had met.

At first Miss Frost merely stared at her, deciding what to think of her, then she said, "You work for the Nosferatu, don't you?"

"The who?"

"That's what they all say!" She cried. The man was rolling his eyes, but did not say a thing in defense of Sarah. "Why are you here!?"

"To get a job on your ship, you crazy shut in!" Despite her complete honesty, the captain did not seem to buy it. She stepped back and glared at her.

"Lies." She seized her by the wrist and forcefully dragged her to the Death Lily, the man trailing behind. Sarah would have struggled, but she was
too surprised that she was being pulled on board to remember to.

There was a long silence as Sarah stood up from where Miss Frost had set her down (to put it kindly). The sun was hidden behind a few clouds,
so it wasn't as sunny as it had been before.

"I--" She began, but the captain interrupted her.

"Why did the Nosferatu send you?" She questioned, her red hair hanging dully near her shoulders. Sarah sighed--she doubted that this woman would believe her, no matter what she said.

"I don't work for the Nosfer-whatever, I'm trying to get a job on a ship. That's why I'm here, I'm not lying. Honestly!"

Instead of insisting that she was some sort of spy for a ship that she couldn't pronounce, Miss Frost started again, looking thoughtful. Sarah, meanwhile, glanced around at the crew members watching her in silence. It was a little eerie.

"Well…ye could be right. You're not exactly Nosferatu material, and besides, your story wouldn't cut it if you were a spy. But a job on the ship…huh…Asher, what do ye think?" She seemed to be speaking to the silver-haired man. He raised his eyebrows again, and crossed his arms.

"Huh? Well…I don't…know. Do we need any more crew members?" Both of them looked around for a moment, evidently surveying the amount of living, moving bodies aboard.

"No," She replied, briefly cocking one eyebrow, then returning to her neutral position.

The man (his name appeared to be Asher) shrugged. "Well, you're the captain. You decide."

She grinned sardonically. "That's what I like about you." He made a 'heh' noise, and she did the same, then she turned to Sarah. "Well then, if ye want to work on this ship," She clasped her hands behind her back and smiled, giving off a satirical sort of quality. "ye'll have to fight me."

Asher didn't look startled at her decision, but he didn't look expectant either. Some sort of mix of the two. Confused at the captain's ultimatum, Sarah contemplated. Well, it didn't take her long to decide that I wasn't working for…uh…those people. I'm not sure if I should be thankful or not... In any case, would I want to work for her if she has such an indecisive personality? One minute she was accusing me of being on some strangely named ship, and the next she's telling me that to work on this ship, I gotta fight her. And do I want to fight her? Oh gee, tough choice. But, I do want to work on a ship, and though I must say, she's as scary as the fires of Hell, I guess it's worth a shot. Nothing ventured nothing gained, right? She sighed after reviewing her verdict, then nodded shortly. "Okay."

And so, as the women unsheathed their swords and several crew members, found more comfortable seating, the fight commenced. It happened in mostly reverent silence--why talk when you can watch a cat fight? The sun still had not come out from behind the clouds, and it made everything a shade darker. Sarah spent the majority of the battle blocking attacks--she would rather not have lost a limb or two. Gradually, she began to attack as well, and the air was soon filled with the clashing of blades. After what felt like four hours (but was actually around two minutes), Sarah knocked the saber out of Captain Frost's hand. The young woman stepped back, then bulled out a knife and threw it at her opponent's right hand. The projectile weapon struck the sword that Sarah held, and she dropped it, startled by the attack, then she found herself at the end of another of the captain's knives.

"You cheated," She said, almost questioning her. Miss Frost smiled with the same dry quality as before.

"Pirate," She replied, with an Oh-my-good-golly-how-obvious sort of tone in her voice. She turned, retrieved her sword, then returned to where she stood. "But I lost me weapon because of ye. That's close enough to winning…unfortunately." She didn't seem thrilled about having to hire Sarah, even though she had full authority to just kick her off the boat. "You have a name, missy?"

"…Pandora." Sarah replied. She always gave people her nickname. A light breeze blew throw the air and ruffled her messy bangs. The sun was now reappearing, as if it had been hiding from the captain's wrath (quite understandable, as it appeared) and was now emerging from it's position of secrecy.

Miss Frost nodded. "Well, me mates here only have one rule," She paused, took a step closer, and clasped her hands behind her back. "I'm always right." She paused again. "Remember that, and welcome to the Death Lily."