bringmethatnpc | (no subject)

Deep in a bayou near the mouth of the Pantano River, a wooden shack sits among twisted vines, high roots, and still, stagnant water. Moonlight illuminates the scene, and the shack is lit from within by what seems like hundreds of candles. A single lantern at the entrance beckons all those who dare to step over the threshold.

Not long ago, only a few days or so, the shack and tangle of surrounding trees was the site of a wake for Captain Jack Sparrow.

The shack had been overflowing with pirates that night. Tia Dalma offered drinks to fight the chill and the sorrow, and the return of another dead pirate gave the crew hope where previously there had been none. Some of those pirates seemed to disappear that night. No one asked too many questions, however, as the shack is bigger than it appears on the outside and the unexpected is to be expected wherever Tia Dalma is found.

But now the missing parties are starting to return. Some are even accompanied by people who had not been there before.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Point of fact, miss Swann, there are quite a few things I'm not telling anyone for now. All will be said in time. And 'in time' doesn't start until the whole of our happy-go-lucky bad is assembled back here. Or at least the important ones."

Barbossa shrugs as he steps closer into the area of light shed by the candles. The gleam in his eyes is, as ever, one of cunning, but to those who knew him there's something else. A deep spark of fire, a driving force that wasn't there before, in undeath.

"You said it, Captain Reynolds, and said it well."

"And I'm thinking that if you won't tell us yer plan, Barbossa, we at least tell the others the plans we have considered in terms of getting to the point when you actually tell us your plans." Gibbs is sitting in shadow, having listened to the strangers - though he knows much of Reynolds and is glad to have hin along. There is a tone of frustration in his voice, as if he's ready to mutiny against Barbossa but has reminded himself of their truce.

"And I am thinking, First Mate Gibbs, that once again you listen to the words you would like to be hearing from my mouth instead of those I have spoken. I will tell you the plan" He doesn't say 'his' plan, but 'the' plan. It involves the lot of them, after all. "when we are all gathered. Saves having to repeat ourselves a dozen times over, don't you think?"

He stands back, regarding Gibbs with a measuring, calculating look.

"Very well." All those months of inaction make a man inpatient. Gibbs would be the first to admit that.

So he'll wait but not particularly like it.