(no subject)

[bringmethatnpc]

Today the Pacific honors its name. It's one of those days the sea is dark blue and the sky is a lighter blue, and the line of the horizon between them is a perfect circle, and both are like twin tin plates reflecting the merciless heat of the sun. The wind is barely enough to push the stolen Spanish ship forwards towards Singapore, but not little enough to excuse the crew from work.

The scaffold rises in the middle of the fort's yard like the sun-bleached skeleton of a shipwreck. A monotone voice numbers the list of new crimes punishable by death under the East India Trading Company rule as the line of chained figures marches forwards.

So while below deck some people conspire to jump ship early and head for a certain temple, above deck sailors work in a dull silence under the stifling sun. The only sounds are the splash of the waves as the prow cuts through them and the creaking of the wood and the rigging.

Funny thing, how these little sounds can combine in a way that almost, almost sounds like they had a rhythm of their own, isn't it?

A thin, trembling voice rises from the gallows. The boy slowly turns the coin in his hands, eyes low.

" The king and his men
stole the queen from her bed
and bound her in her Bones."

How the wind and the voice of the ship itself seems to insinuate a melody into the crew's minds as they go about their duties.

"The seas be ours
and by the powers
where we will we’ll roam."

And through the rattling of chains, and the cry of the seagulls, hidden in the splash of the waves ashore and the howl of the Atlantic winds. In the crashing of glass and the roar of the cannon,  the song travels. And those for whom its sung, even those who don't know yet, hear it.

Comments

[bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com]

"And what could the Brethren of the Coast be, miss Swann? What indeed? Who...?" He looks around, gaze sliding over the motley crew that they have assembled. "Who but us?" And here he makes an expansive gesture, a sweep of his arm which doesn't seem to include Will or Elizabeth, nor Tonks. Mal is given the benefit of doubt. He seems stubborn and brash enough to be a pirate, after all, and to have just he adequate bit of jadedness.

"We, the children of the Sea, the heirs to her lanes. We, who claim no holdings but the coasts we plunder and the havens where we make port." He looks around, then back to Elizabeth. "We the Brothers are one people, notwithstanding the language that we speak or the color of our skin. We are one nation, though we sail under a thousand flags, rather than one. We claim no land, have no borders, and still we are one and all, brothers under the sea's wing. And like any school of fish, like any brotherhood, like any nation, we come together against the threat." His arm sweeps out again, only to draw in, fist closed, his eyes alight with the fire of conviction. Either he's an even better liar than they all thought or he -does- believe in all this.

"But who can hold sway over the actions of such a rag-tag nation? Whose council will the pirates heed, you ask?" Beware, Barbossa is caught up in rhetoric swing "Why none but our own. And thus was the Brethren Court born. The wisest, most powerful of the Pirate Lords assembled, to ponder and discuss..." And here not even he can help but roll his eyes slightly "and argue over the problem and find a solution."

His gaze once again sweeps over the crew, only to land once more on Elizabeth.

"You asked what this song means, miss Swann." He smirks, faintly and unamusedly. "Remember when I said that our enemies could give us the best argument we could use to convince Sao Feng? Well, they have. For this song, miss Swann, this ditty, is the summons for the Brethren Court. The summons of the Brethren for their chiefs to gather and come to the aid of the whole Brotherhood of pirates. And Sao Feng, being one of the Pirate Lords, will heed the call. And our quest being linked to the Court as well, he shall lend us his help."

[try_corsets]

Swept away by the cadence of his voice and the information he's finally chosen to impart, Elizabeth can do nothing but stare. These are answers she's desired for far longer than she originally thought.

"A summons for the Brethren Court," she breathes. "Of course."

The pieces are all falling into place. Elizabeth gives the old pirate a small, awed smile.

[bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com]

Still smirking, Barbossa spreads his arms and makes a slightly mocking bow, his eyes remaining trained on Elizabeth. Ah, at least the girl can acknowledge good workmanship.

"Now, anybody else has any questions they think they're entitled to...?"

[turned_captain]

Will doesn't even wait for Barbossa to look over at him. He turns away quietly and unobtrusively, thinking to himself.

Now he understands at least some of Barboss'a motivations, and the relationship between himself and Sao Feng. He might be able to use that. but for now, let them all think him the naive blacksmith, and forget whose son he is.

[bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com]

Satisfied that no one else seems to be in a mood to go -demanding- things, he turns to the crew with a scowl.

"Fine then, little misses, I've told you a bedside story, want me to tuck you in now? Man those stations before I tear yer guts out and flog you with them, you gaggle of spineless slugs! Singapore lies ahead, and the East India Trading Company behind, so I want this ship to swallow miles like the Leviathan itself...!"

And so, with the musical sounds of a Captain's voice, the ship sails on towards Singapore.