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[bringmethatnpc]

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.

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[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.

[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.