(no subject)

[bringmethatnpc]

Everything in Panama City had gone mostly according to plan, a rare happenstance for the pirates in this motley crew, and the more superstitious among them spent the first few days on board their new vessel debating whether this meant good luck or bad, fair wind or foul.

The Spanish ship they'd stolen isn't large or particularly pleasing to the eye, being in need of some new paint and wood maintenance, but it's seaworthy and swift before the wind, and most importantly, well-stocked for a long voyage.

And a long journey to Singapore it will be.

Comments

Above deck

[bringmethatnpc]

Some days and nights are more quiet than others.

For several of the pirates, this is the first they've seen of the mighty Pacific; it's met with no small amount of reverence. There's hard work to be done, but there are also tales to be told and songs to be sung.

And some days and nights are fair, while others are not.

Such is the nature of the sea.

Re: Above deck

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth had been sure that once they were at sea, moving ever forward with a decent plan in place, the waiting would become less agonizing.

It has not, nor have the thoughts of Jack and what they face, what she has done, faded.

She sometimes works in an effort to keep her hands busy and dissuade conversation, but in the heat of midday, she steps away to stand at the port rail or in the bow, steadily watching the others and turning her face into the wind, silently coaxing it to fill the sails.

Re: Above deck

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora's coaxed a large umbrella into existence alongside the mainmast. She's sitting beneath it, bare feet peeking out from beneath her skirt, and practices tying knots.

(Don't ask. She's bored, and it seems the thing one does when one's at sea.)

[try_corsets]

It does, and between them they have tied hundreds of knots.

Elizabeth watches, unable to resist a small smile at the umbrella, and finally makes her way over. She doesn't notice how easily her sea legs returned, nor that the sun is gently tanning her skin. Pulling an empty barrel toward 'Dora, she turns it over and sits, reaching for her own thick and rough length of rope.

Re: Above deck

[bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com]

There's a captain at the helm.

For all intents, and despite the meager extent of the other's acquaintance with him and the way his face remains impassive, looking over at the horizon, Barbossa seems to be content. Almost, if it weren't kinda blasphemous to think so, happy.

Which is quite logical, because he is. After so long, to be at the wheel once again. To feel the wind on his face, the spray of the sea... To be alive and captain of a ship. Not -his- ship of course, not the Pearl, but that can and will be solved in time.

He even seems to be singing something under his breath.

Anyone dares to try and sneak upon him to hear just what tune it is?

Re: Above deck

[pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com]

Not far off is a first mate and boatswain. He's surely not happy, but transferring his discontent into the actions of a sailor calm him some. As has seeing Barbossa's skills as a captain. The man is not and never will be Jack, but he's a far sight more able that Gibbs' last commander in the navy.

"Ship seems to be ship shape."

Re: Above deck

[bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com]

"It'll do"

He doesn't take his eyes from the sea ahead. The Pacific is honoring its name so far, but it's not the kind of sea you can trust. It's not a noble ocean like the Atlantic. This one is treacherous and bloody-minded, and will sneak upon you if you but give it a little break.

"What is there on your mind, mister Gibbs...? A blind man with his back to you could see the troubled look."

And a good captain listens to his bosun, lest he ends up marooned on a tiny spit of sand with naught but a pistol and one shot.

Re: Above deck

[turned_captain]

Will has been keeping to himself most of the voyage, not having a lot to say to anyone. He's thrown himself hard into working with the crew, to limit the amount of time he spends watching Elizabeth and waiting for her to talk to him.

But sometimes he finds himself with nothing to do, and at those times he finds a moment near the prow, staring at the horizon ahead. Keeping his thoughts on what he has to do prevents them from turning to his fiancée, distant in attitude if not physically.

Re: Above deck

[touch-destiny.livejournal.com]

He isn't alone as he might think, standing at the prow of the ship and looking ever out towards that distant horizon, but Will is distracted sometimes, particularly of late, and anyway bare feet make little sound on planks.

Tia Dalma, too, has been silent for much of this trip; since they had left her hut she has been seen standing at the railings, restless eyes fixed on the ocean swells.

Now a slim brown hand reaches out near Will, grasps a nearby rope that swings gently back and forth. She is apparently unmindful of anyone's solitude but her own.

Re: Above deck

[turned_captain]

Will's head turns slightly, not to see her, but to acknowledge her presence, before looking out again. He feels he should say something, but what little ability he had to makesmall talk before is now all but lost.

"Why Barbossa?" he asks finally.

Re: Above deck

[badinlatin]

It's late, but Mal starts his search for Dora above deck instead of below.

It's dark, though.

"Tonks?" he calls out instead of her usual name from him, a habit he's started since being surrounded by this crew.

Re: Above deck

[clumsy_auror]

"Over here!" replies 'Dora, her voice faint on the opposite end of the deck.

She's standing on the fo'c'sle, near the railing, beaming at a couple of rather battered oranges, holding one out to Mal as he approaches.

"I Summoned them a couple of hours ago, hoping I had enough energy for it," she explains, digging her thumb into the rind and giggling as the juice nearly sprays her in the eye. "Dunno where they've come from, but they're a far sight better than most of the rations."

Re: Above deck

[badinlatin]

Mal can't stop himself from letting out an appreciative 'Oooh' as he takes the second orange from Dora's hand, but he doesn't immediately dig into it.




"I'm leaving."

Below deck

[bringmethatnpc]

Spanish colors stowed and forgotten in a dark and damp corner of the hold, the ship that had once carried silver is now firmly in the hands of pirates. This is particularly evident below decks, where the mess is soon that of sea dogs thinking more often of grog than running a tight ship.

The dim light and faint creaking are ever present.

Re: Below deck

[badinlatin]

Mal doesn't like staying below deck. It's not that he's bothered by the movement of the ship on the water (something still more or less new to him) but compared with the view above, being surrounded by wood planks is not how Mal chooses to spend his days.

"Will?" Mal calls around in the mostly-darkened space immediately below, hammocks swinging around him calmly. "You about somewhere?"

Re: Below deck

[turned_captain]

Will isn't hard to find when you need him. If he's not working, he's watching Elizabeth or, like now, lying in a hammock and trying to get some sleep even in the middle of the day.

He's not asleep, though, and rolls out of his hammock the instant Mal calls out, reaching for a shirt quickly.

"I'm here."

Re: Below deck

[badinlatin]

"Stay there, I'll come to you."

And Mal does, even though it takes him some time -- no matter how tightly stowed some people's things are, it's still an effort to sidestep stray clothes or belongings on the path to Will's hammock.

"You sleep any?"

Re: Below deck

[pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com]

Gibbs lies awake in his hammock, bottle at hand but not feeling any form of sleep, rum-aided or not, coming to him. Everything has been going well so far, which can only mean that there is much to go wrong when the passage is made and the ship gains a day.

He climbs out of the hammock and begins to walk about the cramped quarters, humming an old shanty to himself.

Re: Below deck

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth doesn't sleep near the crew. She stays close to Tonks, in the cabin, and away from Will, though nothing would suggest that her fiancé would wish to string his hammock beside hers anyway, and not just because he has long been concerned with propriety.

They aren't talking. It's as much her fault as his, she knows, if not more so, and as the days and nights begin to blend together, she avoids the eyes of the crew and keeps more and more to herself, a task which proves easiest at night.

Sitting on a formerly neat pile of cordage and sail cloth, back to a wall, Elizabeth hears the light humming and draws herself further into the shadows until only the tips of her boots are showing. She watches Gibbs approach, waiting until he is much closer to say:

"I do not know that tune."

Re: Below deck

[pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com]

Gibbs is momentarily startled by Elizabeth's voice. But he knows that a ship's bowels tend to hide things. Things far worse than Miss Swann. So he's almost glad to see her.

"It's about Captain Kidd, God rest him. I learned it back in my navy days, when I fought against the brethren. I suppose some things stick with you.

"I see I am not the only one awake tonight."

Re: Below deck

[badinlatin]

Mal hasn't gotten used to the hammocks -- cloths on the ground almost feel more like a bunk on Serenity than the maritime compromise between sound sleep and a rolling ship. That leaves Mal dozing while propped up in a corner, awakened when Gibbs passes.

"Wei," he offers to the man, even if he's not really looking for him.

Re: Below deck

[pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com]

"Good evening, Captain." Gibbs moves closer, and gets out a hip flask he took charge of when they took this ship.

Re: Below deck

[bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com]

Barbossa must sleep. He just must, right? Odd, then, that no one seems to manage to catch him at it. The most that anyone can say about his activities below deck is that he spends some time in the deepest part of the hold, doing who-knows-what, and passing through on his way back to the deck.

Re: Below deck

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth hasn't slept.

It's nearly dawn, and she has done nothing all night but sulk over her conversation with Will. She's actively avoiding him, moving about below deck like a ghost.

However, the thing about avoiding someone is that you are far more likely to know exactly where they are at any given moment, and ever since he disappeared topside, Elizabeth hasn't been able to locate him.

She's starting to worry.

After checking the hold, the galley and the crew quarters, she smacks into Barbosa's chest, clearly distracted.

Re: Below deck

[bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com]

"Now, now, miss Swann, it's not proper of a Lady to go barging into men like that."

He watches her amid the gloom of the hold, yellow-rimmed eyes agleam with contained laughter.