Jack Sparrow was still lounging, slouched – although Deprey didn't know how his spine couldn't be bruised reclining against the hard wood backing of the pew – his tricorn hat pulled low over his dark eyes. Tipping his hat's brim up lazily with one ringed pinky finger, Jack cracked open a kohl-smeared eye. "What was that all about?" He asked, referring to the priest's crossing of himself as he had walked over to the pirate captain.
The Father replied in a long-suffering voice, "It is a sign reserved for when one is suffering through times of extreme trials and severe tribulations." His tone took on a note of disapproval, "Such as witnessing an errant and sinful shylock fall asleep during the most hallowed Lord's prayer." Jack lurched to his feet. Although Jack was half a head shorter than the priest, the man of God visible shrunk as the pirate took a step closer.
"In my defence," Jack began in a tone of slight annoyance, poking the astonished priest with one finger. He articulated every word carefully through his gold and silver teeth, in a whispered voice which rose and fell rhythmically - almost melodiously - as he stressed his point, "you cannot stand before me as a man of God and tell me honestly that when you mumble, all sanctimoniously hoity-toity-like, 'bow your heads for the Lord's prayer,' that every man in this room doesn't close his eyes and dream about fair strumpets and feisty wenches. I can't help it if the whiney, self-righteous, indignant preachings of a hypocritical stool-pigeon with a perchance for alliteration sends me off on an unexpected voyage of the Ennui. But then again, who's to blame you." Here Jack clasped a friendly hand on the Father's shoulder and squeezed sympathetically, "That celibacy thing must be a right royal pain in the-"
"Desist!" The priest cried in horror, slapping the pirate's grubby hand off his shoulder. He was still recovering from the shock of Jack's assault on his very being: the pirate had invaded his personal space, prodded him, insulted him and God's word and… What had really shocked the priest was not that he had been insulted, but the insults themselves. They were not the common gutter filth that spurted out of criminals in professions such as his; firstly, the pirate spoke in full sentences. Secondly, he used words Deprey had heard used very rarely in his five years at Tortuga. Captain Jack Sparrow had been - at some point in his sordid life - educated. Father Deprey contemplated the Captain's last words over again in his head - in all his years he'd never encountered a pirate with learning.
The priest jerked abruptly out of his reverie when the pirate snapped grimy fingers in front of his baby-featured face. Jack raised a dark brow in disconcertment, his coal-smudged eyes regarding Father Deprey warily. The priest could have chuckled in irony; the pirate, staring at the priest as if he was the mad and dangerous one. Unsure of what to make of the pirate, the priest continued in his previous vein,
"What is it that you want, you lecherous layabout?" He asked distractedly, engrossed in trying to brush off a small smear of dirt staining his other-wise pristinely white alb, courtesy of Captain Jack Sparrow.
"I was wondering when you were going to ask me that." Jack grinned, leaning nonchalantly against the gold-plated altar, "Could you be giving me directions to the nearest nunnery? You see, after some consideration and deliberation, the ambience and atmosphere in this church is not at all accommodating, so I was thinking - "
" – I shall do no such thing!" The Father exclaimed in outrage, "Directing the likes of you to such a Consecrated and Sanctified place of Worship. It would be sacrilege, pure blasphemy to allow an abomination such as yourself walk through the Hallowed grounds of the Holy Sister's basilica, tainting their purity and piety with your infectious sins. The Omnipotent Lord barely tolerates your presence here. For shame; they are Wives of God! It would be like loosing a lion amidst the lambs!" Jack gave a wolfish grin in reply to the priest's indignity towards the undertone in Jack's request.
"'S only joking." Jack slurred, inspecting a golden ring on his finger bearing a seal of some sort, "However, you're not exactly making a poor soul welcome; it's a wonder you've got a parish at all, the reception you give a body. What happened to all that, 'come as you are,' natter?" The priest looked taken-aback at Jack's knowledge of church hymns and teachings.
Like most people who were only just becoming acquainted with Captain Jack Sparrow, he was finding himself becoming more and more surprised with the pirate. People who knew Jack for many years were still astonished daily by him. However, the pirate's apparent learning did not justify Father Deprey playing along with his insolent banter. In response the priest just glared at Jack in disgust. What kind of man waltzes into a church after a run-in with the Devil's associates and approaches a priest subtly suggesting he wanted to…The man of God didn't even want to consider the possibility of this man before him let loose in a nunnery. As if reading the Father's thoughts, the pirate Captain raised his hands in defeat.
"Fine. I was hoping for better scenery than the likes of ye, but this place is as good as any. I'm in need of your services, as it were. I woke up this morning and decided, 'what the hell; let's get baptised.'" The Father flinched at the mention of Satan's domain, but let the reference pass. All things relative, one invective utterance could be acceptable, considering whom it was doing the cursing. Jack continued spinning his story, "Me ma, God rest her soul, was always worried about the fate of me immortal soul." Immoral soul, more like it.
The priest steepled his fingers in thought, "Allow me recapitulate. You awoke this fair and fine morning and make all hasten to a church, because your long-since departed mother once worried over the state of your soul." Jack's fingers inched towards the dusty bottle of red wine displayed on the altar. The Lord provides, thought Jack, and what He provides, He does so in style: 1455 Vintage.
"Aye." Jack agreed as he wrestled the stopper stubbornly wedged in the grimy bottle. The Father raised a speculative eyebrow, "Hells minions and hordes of vampire bats did not influence your decision in any way, shape or form." The priest allowed himself the indulgence of watching the pirate struggle with the cork in the wine bottle. The wine itself was almost 300 years old, and the cork had remained wedged in the neck of the ancient bottle for all of those years. There was no way the pirate would get that cork out with only his bare hands. No way in Hell…
With a rubbery pop, the cork flew from the bottle and stuck the life-sized figure of the crucified Christ suspended behind the priest square between the eyes. "Good shot." Jack commended himself, before he caught the disapproving glare of the priest, acting like Jack had actually hit the forehead of Jesus Christ in the flesh. The Captain of the Black Pearl rolled his eyes and crossed himself sloppily, with one hand still clutching the wine.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." He muttered, slopping wine all over the floor of the church - seemingly oblivious that he was dripping thousands of pounds worth of rare wine - before pouring the remainder into a silver goblet until it was almost overflowing. He took a fortifying gulp and turned back to Father Deprey, the jewelled chalice still clasped firmly in one hand. Deprey raised the eyebrow again but wisely said nothing. Obviously nothing on heaven, hell or earth would come between Jack and his alcohol. The priest was learning fast already. Two minutes around Jack's influence and the man was already beginning to step down off his high-horse and mingle with the rest of the common, sinful mortals.
Jack took another gulp of wine, wiped his mouth on the back of his tattered sleeve and continued. "Since you are a man of God and honesty, I'll not lie to you. They may have influenced my decision a tiny, minuscule amount. But what really has me worried," here Jack dug into the folds of his jacket with his free hand and retrieved a crumpled piece of parchment, "is this." With a flourish he handed it over to the priest, who sceptically accepted it and unfolded it, treating the dirtied parchment like it was contaminated with the Black Plague. A look of horror and reverence filled his smooth, moon-like face as he realised the origins of the parchment clutched in his hands.
"St Basil's Bible, stolen from the hidden monastery in Ireland, neigh on eight-hundred years ago. Where did you get this?" His tone became sharp and accusatory. "And who dares desecrate such a holy masterpiece?" The priest was back on his high-horse again, Jack sighed.
"I swear, I never touched it." Jack argued, raising his hands palms-up in innocence. He mentally flashing back to his gaol cell where he had jumped on, crumpled up and cursed Basil's alleged parchment. In short Jack conceded his treatment of the paper could possibly, perhaps, rhetorically be classified as something along the lines of 'desecration'. Ah well; he was in the Lord's house now, the house of forgiveness and mercy. No doubt the Lord had heard much worse in His timeless existence than Jack's tiny white lie.
The priest suddenly held the parchment out at arms length, as if contaminated, and pointed to its centre with one gnarled, shaking finger, "What is that spot?" Realising what it truly was, Deprey dropped the paper as if scalded, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph – the Black Spot!" He exclaimed. Jack stooped down and reclaimed his parchment.
"That's what's got me in a state." He explained as he folded it back into his jacket, "And that'll be three Hail Mary's for you, my blasphemous brethren. Can't have you doing my Baptism with your soul all tainted and unclean."
Here we go, a slightly longer chapter than usual. I think I'm waffled on a bit, but we're on the brink here – next chapter we find out where Alex is and how she's doing, cooped up with Captain Peril/ Vice Admiral Stone. And then down the track we have a meeting with the Devil, and Someone Else Unexpected. A few Someone's, actually.