Chapter Two
"...an' this 'ere is Young Dan. 'E's the cabin boy. 'Ere's Gibbs, 'e's first mate- an' that fello' ove' there is Atticus, the coxswain. Yonder beau'iful lass is Anamaria- the bo'sun. An' 'im o'er there is..." Jack Sparrow was introducing the new crewmembers- Finn, a surly looking man with a huge frizzy black beard, a tall woman with a green sash about her waist named Jade, and a lean wiry fellow called Weasel by his mates- to the current ones.
They were still docked in Tortuga, and were going to spend one more night there. Apparently Jack hadn't gotten enough of his rum and his whores-
"Don't think 'e ever do get enough. Ye'll see when ye get t' know 'im better." Anamaria had remarked to Finn- to leave yet.
Later that night, the whole crew was gathered in The Faithful Bride, one of the preferred taverns in Tortuga. That is to say, those of the crew who weren't off whoring or were so pissed they had just passed out and had to be dragged back to the ship were gathered in The Faithful Bride. They were making toasts at the moment- in fact, they had been for the past fifteen minutes, but they were all so wonderfully drunk, they didn't care.
"T' Th' Pea'l!"
"T' th' sea!"
"T' th' rum!"
"T' our good la'ies 'ere!"
Finnbarr Robeson was shouting and drinking with the rest of them, enjoying the sensation of being drunk with friends- it was so much more enjoyable than being drunk alone, where strange and unpleasant thoughts tended to creep up on you unawares. Suddenly he found himself raising his bottle.
"T' our Cap'n, Jack Sparrow!"
"Aye! T' Jack!"
"Tha's Cap'n Jack, mates..." There was a chorus of laughs around the circle, and Finn found himself smiling fondly, as if at the quirk of someone he had long known. Granted, it was a quirk, but considering he had only known the Captain for a day... He wasn't worried for long however; the rum took care of that.
"T' freedom!" Jacks voice rang out, "C'mon, I wanna hear every man-jack o' ye, t' freedom!"
"T' freedom!" the crew bellowed, thinking nothing of the sentiment, but Finnbarr Robeson bowed his head, suddenly disappointingly sober.
'To freedom?' He thought 'What do I know about freedom? No one knows about my... preference. No one would accept it anyway. Not my whole life, ever since I realized I'm queer, have I been free... Jack... No, shuddup, he's yer captain, you can't go thinking like that.'
He shook his head, and took another swig of rum, but was unable to regain that blissful feeling of camaraderie he'd had before.
'Blasted liquor- it isn't working.' He thought irritably, 'Oh, hellfire, I'm goin' back to The Pearl.'
"Cap'n." He got up, and chucked Jack on the arm in a friendly manner, "I'm goin' back t' Th' Pea'l, savvy?" Jack looked up at him indignantly,
"Why? We on'y been 'ere fer a bit- jus' star'ed enjoyin' meself... an' tha's my word, savvy?" As disheartened as Finn was, he couldn't help grinning at his Captain.
"Savvy, Cap'n, sir." He quipped, tipping a mock salute in Jack's direction, "G'night t' ye all." He made an elegant leg in the crew's direction, but lost his balance halfway through, and nearly fell over. He righted himself, and walking with a drunkard's reel, he made his way down to the dock to board The Black Pearl.
Finn sat in the on his cot, a small affair in the room he shared with Weasel, a fellow named Hans, another called Pip, and several others whose names his liquor-addled mind couldn't recall. He crumpled, burying his head in his hands.
'Why him? Why Jack, of all people? Why, why, why...' He didn't know, sometimes he didn't want to know. He cursed himself, wishing he could just be like everyone else, to be able to enjoy the pleasures of women, of being completely intimate with someone, of being loved. 'Oh, God, why? Mebbe I should just kill myself. I was good, I was okay... until Jack came along... wonderful, witty, roguish, sexy, clever Captain Jack Sparrow... Oh, God...'
"'Lo mate, thou' I' check in on ye!"
"Wha'? Oh, hellfire, Jack. Whaddaye doin'?"
"Tolja, a'ready, I was wunnerin' wha' might be wrong."
"Oh." Finn sagged, but plastered a smile on his features; it felt painful. "Nothin' 't all mate- 'm fine." Jack smiled drunkenly, even his shrewd mind blunted by the infamous 'nectar of the Caribbean'.
"Lovely- glad summat were'n' amiss." Finnbarr grinned forcedly,
"Was gon' catch up on me s'eep- 'm fine, ma'e- y 'c'n go."
"Righ' th'n- see ye." Finn nodded, and gestured towards the cabin door. As soon as Jack was out of earshot he flung himself up off the little straw stuffed mattress and howled his anguish to the thick night air. His scream went on until he no longer had the breath to sustain it. Freed of his tension, he collapsed onto his bed like a puppet with cut strings and allowed the blessed darkness of oblivion to envelop him.
"...an' this 'ere is Young Dan. 'E's the cabin boy. 'Ere's Gibbs, 'e's first mate- an' that fello' ove' there is Atticus, the coxswain. Yonder beau'iful lass is Anamaria- the bo'sun. An' 'im o'er there is..." Jack Sparrow was introducing the new crewmembers- Finn, a surly looking man with a huge frizzy black beard, a tall woman with a green sash about her waist named Jade, and a lean wiry fellow called Weasel by his mates- to the current ones.
They were still docked in Tortuga, and were going to spend one more night there. Apparently Jack hadn't gotten enough of his rum and his whores-
"Don't think 'e ever do get enough. Ye'll see when ye get t' know 'im better." Anamaria had remarked to Finn- to leave yet.
Later that night, the whole crew was gathered in The Faithful Bride, one of the preferred taverns in Tortuga. That is to say, those of the crew who weren't off whoring or were so pissed they had just passed out and had to be dragged back to the ship were gathered in The Faithful Bride. They were making toasts at the moment- in fact, they had been for the past fifteen minutes, but they were all so wonderfully drunk, they didn't care.
"T' Th' Pea'l!"
"T' th' sea!"
"T' th' rum!"
"T' our good la'ies 'ere!"
Finnbarr Robeson was shouting and drinking with the rest of them, enjoying the sensation of being drunk with friends- it was so much more enjoyable than being drunk alone, where strange and unpleasant thoughts tended to creep up on you unawares. Suddenly he found himself raising his bottle.
"T' our Cap'n, Jack Sparrow!"
"Aye! T' Jack!"
"Tha's Cap'n Jack, mates..." There was a chorus of laughs around the circle, and Finn found himself smiling fondly, as if at the quirk of someone he had long known. Granted, it was a quirk, but considering he had only known the Captain for a day... He wasn't worried for long however; the rum took care of that.
"T' freedom!" Jacks voice rang out, "C'mon, I wanna hear every man-jack o' ye, t' freedom!"
"T' freedom!" the crew bellowed, thinking nothing of the sentiment, but Finnbarr Robeson bowed his head, suddenly disappointingly sober.
'To freedom?' He thought 'What do I know about freedom? No one knows about my... preference. No one would accept it anyway. Not my whole life, ever since I realized I'm queer, have I been free... Jack... No, shuddup, he's yer captain, you can't go thinking like that.'
He shook his head, and took another swig of rum, but was unable to regain that blissful feeling of camaraderie he'd had before.
'Blasted liquor- it isn't working.' He thought irritably, 'Oh, hellfire, I'm goin' back to The Pearl.'
"Cap'n." He got up, and chucked Jack on the arm in a friendly manner, "I'm goin' back t' Th' Pea'l, savvy?" Jack looked up at him indignantly,
"Why? We on'y been 'ere fer a bit- jus' star'ed enjoyin' meself... an' tha's my word, savvy?" As disheartened as Finn was, he couldn't help grinning at his Captain.
"Savvy, Cap'n, sir." He quipped, tipping a mock salute in Jack's direction, "G'night t' ye all." He made an elegant leg in the crew's direction, but lost his balance halfway through, and nearly fell over. He righted himself, and walking with a drunkard's reel, he made his way down to the dock to board The Black Pearl.
Finn sat in the on his cot, a small affair in the room he shared with Weasel, a fellow named Hans, another called Pip, and several others whose names his liquor-addled mind couldn't recall. He crumpled, burying his head in his hands.
'Why him? Why Jack, of all people? Why, why, why...' He didn't know, sometimes he didn't want to know. He cursed himself, wishing he could just be like everyone else, to be able to enjoy the pleasures of women, of being completely intimate with someone, of being loved. 'Oh, God, why? Mebbe I should just kill myself. I was good, I was okay... until Jack came along... wonderful, witty, roguish, sexy, clever Captain Jack Sparrow... Oh, God...'
"'Lo mate, thou' I' check in on ye!"
"Wha'? Oh, hellfire, Jack. Whaddaye doin'?"
"Tolja, a'ready, I was wunnerin' wha' might be wrong."
"Oh." Finn sagged, but plastered a smile on his features; it felt painful. "Nothin' 't all mate- 'm fine." Jack smiled drunkenly, even his shrewd mind blunted by the infamous 'nectar of the Caribbean'.
"Lovely- glad summat were'n' amiss." Finnbarr grinned forcedly,
"Was gon' catch up on me s'eep- 'm fine, ma'e- y 'c'n go."
"Righ' th'n- see ye." Finn nodded, and gestured towards the cabin door. As soon as Jack was out of earshot he flung himself up off the little straw stuffed mattress and howled his anguish to the thick night air. His scream went on until he no longer had the breath to sustain it. Freed of his tension, he collapsed onto his bed like a puppet with cut strings and allowed the blessed darkness of oblivion to envelop him.