bringmethatnpc

It's an old hobby of sailors the world over.

Not just sailors, actually. Anyone floating endlessly over still water is bound to get bored sooner or later, and start poking about in the depths below them, under the excuse of 'fishing.' Pintel's line got tangled almost immediately, and he struggles half-heartedly to undo it as Ragetti stares downwards.

Then he jerks back all of a sudden and Pintel drops his line in shock as he sees what's under the water - ghostly outlines of people floating there, face-up and limp under the rippling surface.

He swallows. "Eerie," he manages. "That's just downright-" he hesitates, "Macahbree."

Odd word. French, most like. But right now, with them faces, more and more every minute... seems fitting.

From:

parley-pirate.livejournal.com

((Sorry for the long wait—I’m trying to be more punctual with these things.))

Ragetti is not about to disagree. The weird, empty-eyed figures feel so far away, and at the same time almost close enough to touch, and the idea of actually touching one is enough to send a shudder to rattle his spine.

A pressing question has occurred to him, and he nudges Pintel with his elbow, dragging his eyes from the silent procession. The figures look almost unreal, which begs the question: "I wonder what would 'appen if you dropped a cannonball on one of 'em?"

Inquiring minds want to know!

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>_>

Well, o'course there's only one way to find that out. Hefting a cannonball each, and trying to snigger quietly, Pintel and Ragetti shuffle their way back to the prow and the fascinatingly disturbing sight of faces under the waves.

Or...

Pintel is already having second thoughts when a dark shape turns around and a freezing glare is turned on the both of them. Because he may be a ruthless, daredevil pirate from the crew of the Black Pearl, but that look on Tia Dalma's face could flay a man's hide without her even saying a word.

There are two heavy thuds as the two cannonballs simultaneously hit the deck.

"...Be disrespectful, it would."

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The look in her eyes has frozen braver men than these two; could send fish flickering away in a panic, could chill the steady wind that pushes the Pearl along her mirrored waters.

When she speaks, her voice is unsteady and sharp, her words addressed not to the two pirates but to the fading figures below. She seems preoccupied, restless. Her fingers tighten on the rail.

"They should be in the care of Davy Jones!" Her face is etched in lines of frustration and misery. Behind her, the pirates take a few shuffling, cautious steps, curious to see what she sees but uncertain as to whether or not she'll lash out once more.

She does not. In fact, they have to move a little closer to clearly hear her next words, low and unhappy as her voice is.

"That was the duty him was charged with, by the goddess Calypso: to ferry those who die at sea to the other side."

They cannot see her expression, her back turned as it is, and both men startle when she turns to them, her eyes bright and fierce, her dark lips hovering at the edge of a smile, a sad, fond expression. A hand grasps at something hanging from her neck and hides it from their view, that same strange smile luminous even in the mist and the dark.

"And every ten years..." It's nearly a sigh, calming the harsh words of before, her eyes now not glittering but simply bright. "Him could come ashore. To be with she who love him truly."

The men are spellbound. She has never spoken in such a manner, never seemed more like a woman than a witch. For the first time, even as her face hardens and her hand drops from the locket it had caressed, she seems wild and beautiful and loving.

But her face does harden, her hand does drop, and when she continues her story, it is with an added edge of bitterness and malice, and she turns away from the pirates, sets them adrift from the spell she'd woven so gently.

"But the man has become a monster."

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Pintel is surprised into speechlessness. She's always scared him, but the emotion in her voice tugs at the heartstrings like nothing else, all of a sudden. Makes a lad wonder at the world, somehow.

He suppresses a quiet sniffle, and keeps quiet in case she wanted to say more. Get it off her chest, like.

From:

parley-pirate.livejournal.com

Ragetti, meanwhile, is frowning slightly at nothing and silently moving his lips. He's trying without much success to reconcile the two pictures of Davy Jones in love and Davy Jones the octopus-bearded, crab-clawed creature who'd taken Captain Jack.

"So... he wasn't always..."

An appropriate descriptor evades him; perhaps this needs illustration. Ragetti puts his hand on his chin and wriggles his fingers... in the most respectful manner, of course.

"...tentacle-ey?"

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"No."

The smile she turns on them is sweet and wild and sad, her eyes far away, and her voice flows by like the hush of the water against their hull. One hand lifts to her throat, caresses a little silver gleam there. Her fingertips run over crab claws delicately wrought, over the shape of a heart that lies cold so close to her own.

"Him was a man once."

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Pintel doesn't know what to say.

This isn't unusual, but the kind where scary ladies talk about old loves, and one of them being Davy Jones, he decides, is the special speechlessness. He endges closer to the rail again with Ragetti, when he judges it safe, staring at the dark water below.

From:

parley-pirate.livejournal.com

Really, Tia Dalma's story has made the pressing dark of night-time just that bit more spooky. The air feels warm to Ragetti, but it's the stifled warmth of some kind of underground tomb, only so because the heat can't escape to the living world.

He shudders slightly. This whole Davy Jones thing is, he reflects, making him unseasonably morbid.

Suspended in the dark and the fog, so that it was impossible to judge size or distance, he spots something. A lighthouse?

Then another. And another and another and another. And finally, the long low forms behind them, indistinct. "Now there's boats coming!"

From:

pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com

There are many boats. Each no bigger than the average rowboat. A single, lantern provides the only light in the gloom. And each carries someone.

Is it an attack? Something else trying to keep them from leaving? Gibbs rams a shot into place in a handy musket, ready for anything.

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Will is quick behind Gibbs, and as soonas he sees what the old sailor is doing, he shoots a hand out to still the action.

"They’re not a threat to us," he says with certainty that turns to uncertainty as he realises he doesn't know where the knowledge came from.

He glances to Tia Dalma. "Am I right?"

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She nods, slow, watching the progression of ghostly faces and candles, and in the flickering light, her eyes are sad but peaceful.

"We are nothing but ghosts to them."

From:

bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com

Barbossa nods. He didn't make this one journey, because thanks to Jack's one shot he didn't die at sea, but all the same he knows a little bit more about this whole business than most others.

"It's best just to let 'em be."

From:

try_corsets

The unexpected light of the lanterns, one in each small boat, draws Elizabeth's attention. She walks to the port rail, still deep in her own thoughts until one boat in particular catches her eye.

Not the boat, the passenger within.

Eyes alight with a fierce happiness, Elizabeth exclaims: "It's my father... we've made it back!"

The Locker, the gloom, and all her uncertainty about Will and Jack falls away. It doesn't matter any more. They're back, and her father is here to greet them.

From:

pirate_jack

He steps from the shadows where he's been silently watching, coming up behind Elizabeth-- moving for all the world much like a shadow himself, or perhaps even a ghost.

Which he is, to make no bones about it.

Here in this half-world between the Locker and the living lands beyond, Jack Sparrow is one of the few best suited to know exactly what they're all seeing as they watch boats and bodies and the flickering (candle) lights guiding the spirits in from the cold and watery deep.

There's a dark, knowing gleam in the black eyes as his gaze rests on once-Governor Weatherby Swann, but Jack doesn't say a word.

From:

It's been night a long time, but the boat's rocking is gentle and the star light gives him comfort.

Nothing matters anymore.

lap... lap... lap...

There are others here, in boats beside his, behind his. He doesn't speak to them, because they don't matter.

Nothing matters but the end of the journey which must come soon, mustn't it?

From:

try_corsets

Elizabeth doesn't notice Jack. All of her attention is focused on the man in the boat, who doesn't seem to hear her cries.

"Father!" She lightly slaps the rail. "Father, here, look here!"

Why doesn't he look her way?

From:

He hears something-

But no. It can't be.

He stares straight ahead.

From:

pirate_jack

"Elizabeth."

Quietly said, and yet there's no denying the strange certainty in Jack's low voice.

He waits for her to turn, and meets her eyes when she does. When he speaks, it's not gentle-- there's nothing exactly gentle about Jack Sparrow any more-- but there's a rough sort of sympathy there all the same, at least in this.

"We're not back."

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Will can't say anything. He's been fighting so hard for his own father, it's a shock to see hers, who they thought safe, and his first thought is for Elizabeth, to comfort her.

His heart is hurting for this, it can only be a fraction of what she feels.

He reaches out a hand to her, but Barbossa stands in the way, and he's still not sure whether she'd want comfort from him.

From:

try_corsets

But that's... impossible. They have to be back. If they're not back, why is her father here?

Elizabeth stares at Jack as the only possible explanation begins to sink in.

He's dead.

Denying it, she jerks back and hurries to keep up with her father's boat.

"Father!" she cries again, desperate to get his attention.

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He frowns, confused, and turns his head.

There's a ship there. It's much larger than the rowboats all around him. And- there are people- one of whom looks just like-

"Elizabeth?"

She shouldn't be here, should she? Because if she is-

"Are you dead?"

From:

try_corsets

"No." She shakes her head, eyes wide with worry and disbelief, and keeps pace with the boat. It's a good thing she knows the deck well, because she certainly doesn't take her eyes off her father. "No!"

There isn't much time, and they shouldn't be wasting it talking.

From:

It's strange how it doesn't bother him, the thought of his own demise. He rather thinks it would if she were, as well.

"...I think I am," he says.

From:

try_corsets

"No, you can't be!"

Desperation fills her voice, as she struggles to believe her own words.

From:

His face clouds with confusion. He's reaching for the memories, for the words to convey them.

"There was this...chest, you see. It’s odd. It seemed...so important at the time."

From:

Chest?

Davy Jones' heart. Governor Swann died because he knew something about the heart.

Although he's still hurting for Elizabeth, Will finds himself listening intently.

From:

try_corsets

But it's not important. Not now.

What's important is that her father is slowly drifting away.

Elizabeth slaps the rail harder, hoping it will help him focus, and yells,

"Come aboard!"

From:

"And a heart. I learnt that if you stab the heart, yours must take its place. You will sail the seas for eternity. The Dutchman must have a captain."

He looks away, his gaze vacant and mostly unseeing. He adds, almost as an afterthought, "Silly thing to die for."

The lapping of the waves draw his attention again. He has somewhere to go. Somewhere Elizabeth cannot follow.

From:

try_corsets

The words and what they mean pale to insignificance next to the knowledge that she's losing him, and if she doesn't do something drastic, it will all be over. He'll be gone forever.

Elizabeth tears her eyes away long enough to cry "Someone, cast a line!" over her shoulder, and then continues to plead with her father. "Come back with us!"

Marty had reached for a coil of rope, but he's moving too slowly for Elizabeth. She grabs for it and makes ready to throw.

From:

He has to move on now. He must. She- she'll be alright. She's such a fine girl.

He looks looks up at her, a heartbreakingly peaceful expression on his face.

"...I’m so proud of you, Elizabeth."

From:

Somewhere amid the quiet and Elizabeth's panicked cries, between the splash of the rope and the hush of water against the boat that carries Weatherby Swann into eternity, bare feet have padded over rough boards and Tia Dalma looks up at Will with a strange intensity in her dark eyes.

"A touch," she says, as though willing him to understand her, "of destiny."

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Will glances back at her, surprised.

This is what she meant? What the hooded figure calling itself Destiny meant? Will stabs Jones' heart, his father goes free, but Will himself is bound to the Dutchman?

It's not unlike having his death warrant read to him. Only that time he trusted himself to escape his fate.

From:

try_corsets

The line had landed between the glowing lantern and her father, and when he doesn't react, Elizabeth grips her end and keeps pace, demanding that he take it.

She's running out of deck.

Will and Tia Dalma might as well be worlds away for all the notice she takes of them.

"Come on, take the line!" Elizabeth yells, panic in her voice. She shakes the rope, but he still doesn't notice. "Take the line!"

With nothing to anchor it, the line slips off the small boat and lands in the water. The soft splash it makes sounds very final to Elizabeth's ears. She gasps, drops the (useless) rope and races for the stern, just a short distance away.

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"She must not leave the ship!"

She raps it out, sharp and clear, looking to Will even as she leaves the railing to give chase to Elizabeth.

She'll never catch the other woman, though; she's too far behind.

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Will doesn't need to be told why. He races up, leaving everyone behind as he runs to Elizabeth, who is even now climbing the aftmost rigging, trying to keep pacewith her father's boat.

Without a moment's hestitation, Will reaches out to her for the first time in an age.

From:

pirate_jack

One after another, the others follow after Elizabeth -- whether to catch or to comfort her or for their own reasons, who can say.

Not Jack. Of them all, he remains almost unnaturally still on the deck below, watching in silence as they move away.

After a moment or two, he turns to stare out over the water again, lost in the unearthly night and the darkness of his own thoughts.

From:

try_corsets

"Please," Elizabeth is pleading as Will's arm snakes around her waist, keeping her from leaning out over the water. She doesn't think how unfamiliar the word is on her lips, not when it comes so easily now, with her heart poured into it. "Come with us!"

Will's touching her again, finally, but all Elizabeth feels is that he's holding her back. Struggling, she watches the boat drift farther away, almost out of reach, in these few precious, wasted seconds.

"I won't leave you!"

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The boats are drifting away now, and that which ties him to Elizabeth's world is melting away once more. He gives his daughter a final, lingering smile.

"I’ll give your love to your mother, shall I?"

With that, he turns back to face the dark, open waters. He hears her cries, but he can't help her. He can't save her. He can only be proud of her, and let her go.

Besides, Caroline waits for him somewhere out there. He has so very much to tell her.

From:

try_corsets

No.

No.

He can't give her love to her mother, because her mother is dead, and she absolutely refuses to let him go.

"Please, I won't let you die," Elizabeth shrieks, completely beside herself as her father turns away.

That's it. That's the last time she'll see his face.

Will is the only thing keeping her on the Pearl.

From:

"Elizabeth,"

Will physically pulls her back onto the deck wrapping his arms around her tightly.

None of what they were fighting about matters now. Only that he anchor her to the Pearl.

From:

try_corsets

As his arms tighten around her, the knowledge that there's nothing else she can do hits Elizabeth like a physical blow to her chest. Crushed, she lets out a sob and turns into Will, hiding her face and holding on to the only other person she loves.

From: