Oct. 5th, 2007

bringmethatnpc: (kraken twist)
Even before they set foot on the island, the enormous mass that covers one end of the beach like some malignant tumor is impossible to miss. So is the stench of rotting fish and the cloud of gulls and other birds that feast on the huge-ish piece of carrion. As they step off the boats, the pirates busying themselves with the buckets and skins for water, two men stand apart from the rest, watching the dead beast, knowing it for what it is.

Jack and Barbossa look over at the remains of the Kraken, mulling their thoughts in silence. Then, the Spaniard turns his head to regard Jack with a certain curiosity, just as Sparrow starts to walk along the beach towards the immense carcass. Pintel and Ragetti, maybe no more bewildered but less circumspect about it, follow in their wake.
bringmethatnpc: (Pintel)
It's really, really... bleeding hot. His throat's parched, has been for days - weeks, seems like - and the energy to actually do anything is decidedly lacking.

Pintel tilts a bottle fatalistically before his eyes, wistfully imagining the swirl of water inside.

"No water," he says plaintively, half to Mister Gibbs, half just to himself. "Why is all but the rum gone?"
bringmethatnpc: (the Black Pearl at night)
Night has fallen, and the Black Pearl cuts through the still and glass-like waters of world's end with hardly a sound. There must be a small wind, their forward progress is proof enough of that, but the air feels stagnant and oppressive, weighing them down with the knowledge that they don't belong in this weird and haunted place.

Some of the crew fall silent over their work, or stare ahead as if the way home will suddenly present itself. Others have different ways of dealing with the tension.
bringmethatnpc: (the Black Pearl at night)
After this.

The last of the small ships have passed by, carrying their crews to whatever destination awaits them. The crew of the Pearl has dispersed- all alone now with their own thoughts and fears about the waters they are sailing.

Wellard cannot blame them. He does not go below, however.

Things still seem too unreal.

He is not the only one up on deck, however- and he knows the Pearl well enough to walk quietly along the railing until he spots a familiar figure looking out at the far, shadowed horizon.
bringmethatnpc: (lord cutler beckett)
Their plans...are not proceeding apace.

"Bloody hell," Beckett murmurs, surveying what's left of the latest ship, "there's nothing left."

Mercer observes, "Jones is a loose cannon, sir."

There's a long pause: Lord Cutler Beckett is thinking. Finally: "Fetch the chest."

"And the governor?" Beckett looks over his shoulder at Mercer. "He's been asking questions about the heart.

Beckett's eyes narrow. "Does he know?"

Silence from Mercer is, apparently, a yes.

"Then perhaps," Beckett says peaceably, "his usefulness has run its course."

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