Far off from Port Royal, in the middle of the Caribbean, the solitary
silhouette of a ship drifted in front of the setting Caribbean sun. The
tattered sails billowed in the winds, clapping in a steady beat, while the
oars on either side of the ship maintained a steady rhythm as they treaded
through the darkened waters. Behind the helm stood a figure of tanned
flesh, dark, dread locked hair and amber optics. His scruffy, though shaggy
appearance shrouded him with a sort of charm. A gentle brow was arched
behind his intent gaze on an apple, held in his right-hand, before he
raised it to his lip and took a bite. The juices trickled down his shabby
beard, though he paid no mind, gaze moving once more out towards the open
sea.
The man hummed a steady tune beneath his breath, focused, with an official look about him, on the course that lay before the ship and himself. He tossed the apple core over the starboard side, taking up a compass in the hand the apple was in previously in, stealing occasional glances at it. After a few moments of puzzlement, he bit his lower lip and cast the compass aside, resting his hands easily over the helm. As the man broke into a chorus of 'really bad eggs' he felt a sudden lurch from the ship. He staggered back a few steps and the cool air finally struck him, sending him back and flat on the deck. It wasn't until then he noticed the sky, clouded with grayed and blackened clouds that seemed to taunt him. The darker section was still a distance away, but drawing closer with every breath. The low rumble of thunder was what broke the man's stare, after which he rose to his feet, slowly trying to maintain balance between the ship's steady rocks.
A man of short build, graying hair and long sideburns rushed up towards the helm where the other man stood. His expression looked pale, eyes widened and drifting between the clouds, the man, and the faint silhouette of land in the distance.
"Cap'n Sparrow! Storm's a'brewin' by the looks of things. Bes' think we be droppin' anchor somewheres. What say you?"
"No, Gibbs," Sparrow replied coolly, hand resting on the helm for the sake of style, and masking his lack of balance, "we'll manage."
Sparrow managed to maintain a sly grin through all of this, golden glimmer catching the little rays of sunlight that was left. Gibbs struggled to protest for a moment before the firm gleam of his captain's dark optics before he silenced with a defeated sigh.
"Aye, Sir." Was all he gave besides a brief nod as he turned away on his heel. He wanted to curse out at his captain's foolishness, though decided against it for the sake of his own hide.
Jack smiled slightly as his right hand rose and began tugging at the edge of his moustache in a triumphant sort of way. He thought he was doing a good job of keeping this crew in line, well.almost all of them Annamaria was a problem, but she was a free-spirited lass and he was willing to accept that. He didn't have a choice, now that he thought about it.if Jack tried to order Annamaria around the heavens would crash down upon him. He shook his frivolous thoughts off as his grin returned, looking towards the horizon again.
Hours later, they were in the eye of the storm, the Pearl swiveling wildly through the blackened sea. Waves crashed across the side of the ship in attempt to break her, attempting to drown the maiden-embodiment of the Pearl that resided on the bow. The crew struggled to maintain their duty, which was holding on for their lives, though Gibbs and Annamaria had managed to rig up some rope for lifelines. Jack stuck by the helm the whole time, almost as if a strong adhesive was what was holding his hands there. In a way it was, spirit and determination to get everyone and himself out of this mess. A cry came out from behind and Jack attempted to drown it out for the sake of the crew, the Pearl and himself. The cry rang out above the claps of thunder, the roar of the sea and the constant patter of rain. Finally, he could stand it no longer. He felt one hand slide off of the helm as he turned around to face his lifelined crew, catching a glimpse of one of his crew members sliding off the deck as the ship cocked at an awkward angle. The rest of his crew was pressed firmly against the opposite railing and against the mast, glancing longingly towards their companion to reach out and help him, though they were helpless.
Jack's brows furrowed slightly as he took a stagger forward, slowly releasing his hand from the helm and feeling himself sliding across the deck. His eyes widened as he yelled out as well, arms flailing above his head before he lost his balance again, landing on his back and sliding off towards the edge. A louder yell escaped him as he shut his eyes tightly for only a second, a bit of hope gleaming in them as he quickly thrashed out his hands and seized a hold of the rope his companion was dangling off of. A heavy sigh of relief was emitted, as well as a groan as he looked closely at the soaked man. His arms were shaking desperately to hold on, eyes shut tightly as a wail escaped him. Damn the new dogs he picked up from Tortuga.he knew they were too young.
"Up y'go, son!" Jack yelled up above the natural, yet horrid sounds.
"I can', sir!" The boy yelled back, pressing his face against the deck as a few more wails escaped him.
"Well, you'd damn well better try!" A hand was released from the rope as he gave the boy's thigh a slap, as an order to climb up. The response was not what he wanted. On impulse, the boy's leg thrashed and Jack's grip was lost. The crew could only watch in horror as their captain plummeted into the black, unforgiving waters of Davy Jones' Locker.
The man hummed a steady tune beneath his breath, focused, with an official look about him, on the course that lay before the ship and himself. He tossed the apple core over the starboard side, taking up a compass in the hand the apple was in previously in, stealing occasional glances at it. After a few moments of puzzlement, he bit his lower lip and cast the compass aside, resting his hands easily over the helm. As the man broke into a chorus of 'really bad eggs' he felt a sudden lurch from the ship. He staggered back a few steps and the cool air finally struck him, sending him back and flat on the deck. It wasn't until then he noticed the sky, clouded with grayed and blackened clouds that seemed to taunt him. The darker section was still a distance away, but drawing closer with every breath. The low rumble of thunder was what broke the man's stare, after which he rose to his feet, slowly trying to maintain balance between the ship's steady rocks.
A man of short build, graying hair and long sideburns rushed up towards the helm where the other man stood. His expression looked pale, eyes widened and drifting between the clouds, the man, and the faint silhouette of land in the distance.
"Cap'n Sparrow! Storm's a'brewin' by the looks of things. Bes' think we be droppin' anchor somewheres. What say you?"
"No, Gibbs," Sparrow replied coolly, hand resting on the helm for the sake of style, and masking his lack of balance, "we'll manage."
Sparrow managed to maintain a sly grin through all of this, golden glimmer catching the little rays of sunlight that was left. Gibbs struggled to protest for a moment before the firm gleam of his captain's dark optics before he silenced with a defeated sigh.
"Aye, Sir." Was all he gave besides a brief nod as he turned away on his heel. He wanted to curse out at his captain's foolishness, though decided against it for the sake of his own hide.
Jack smiled slightly as his right hand rose and began tugging at the edge of his moustache in a triumphant sort of way. He thought he was doing a good job of keeping this crew in line, well.almost all of them Annamaria was a problem, but she was a free-spirited lass and he was willing to accept that. He didn't have a choice, now that he thought about it.if Jack tried to order Annamaria around the heavens would crash down upon him. He shook his frivolous thoughts off as his grin returned, looking towards the horizon again.
Hours later, they were in the eye of the storm, the Pearl swiveling wildly through the blackened sea. Waves crashed across the side of the ship in attempt to break her, attempting to drown the maiden-embodiment of the Pearl that resided on the bow. The crew struggled to maintain their duty, which was holding on for their lives, though Gibbs and Annamaria had managed to rig up some rope for lifelines. Jack stuck by the helm the whole time, almost as if a strong adhesive was what was holding his hands there. In a way it was, spirit and determination to get everyone and himself out of this mess. A cry came out from behind and Jack attempted to drown it out for the sake of the crew, the Pearl and himself. The cry rang out above the claps of thunder, the roar of the sea and the constant patter of rain. Finally, he could stand it no longer. He felt one hand slide off of the helm as he turned around to face his lifelined crew, catching a glimpse of one of his crew members sliding off the deck as the ship cocked at an awkward angle. The rest of his crew was pressed firmly against the opposite railing and against the mast, glancing longingly towards their companion to reach out and help him, though they were helpless.
Jack's brows furrowed slightly as he took a stagger forward, slowly releasing his hand from the helm and feeling himself sliding across the deck. His eyes widened as he yelled out as well, arms flailing above his head before he lost his balance again, landing on his back and sliding off towards the edge. A louder yell escaped him as he shut his eyes tightly for only a second, a bit of hope gleaming in them as he quickly thrashed out his hands and seized a hold of the rope his companion was dangling off of. A heavy sigh of relief was emitted, as well as a groan as he looked closely at the soaked man. His arms were shaking desperately to hold on, eyes shut tightly as a wail escaped him. Damn the new dogs he picked up from Tortuga.he knew they were too young.
"Up y'go, son!" Jack yelled up above the natural, yet horrid sounds.
"I can', sir!" The boy yelled back, pressing his face against the deck as a few more wails escaped him.
"Well, you'd damn well better try!" A hand was released from the rope as he gave the boy's thigh a slap, as an order to climb up. The response was not what he wanted. On impulse, the boy's leg thrashed and Jack's grip was lost. The crew could only watch in horror as their captain plummeted into the black, unforgiving waters of Davy Jones' Locker.
