bringmethatnpc | AWE: Black Pearls and Revelations

AWE: Black Pearls and Revelations

After this.

The last of the small ships have passed by, carrying their crews to whatever destination awaits them. The crew of the Pearl has dispersed- all alone now with their own thoughts and fears about the waters they are sailing.

Wellard cannot blame them. He does not go below, however.

Things still seem too unreal.

He is not the only one up on deck, however- and he knows the Pearl well enough to walk quietly along the railing until he spots a familiar figure looking out at the far, shadowed horizon.

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"That's right. We have our heading."

His compass dangles at his side, but Jack doesn't make any move to reach for it. He looks back out over the water again, toward the now-vanished lights of the tiny boats, then gives an elaborate shrug and turns toward Wellard.

"Not but what we might be more better off than those poor buggers now, even if we're spinning 'round in circles, aye?"

His hands tighten on the railing, and Wellard nods, jerkily.

"Least we're not going back. That's certainly better." He takes a deep breath.

"And once we get the Pearl out of here, and you, and everyone- Well, there's still a lot to take care of, but that's one less worry about things, isn't it?"

The sound Jack makes is suspiciously like a snort, and there's something grudging about the quick flicker of respect in the look he throws over his shoulder toward Barbossa-- or where Barbossa was, at least.

He doesn't answer at first, but when he does--

"Wouldn't have thought he had it in him."

Which might not be entirely true, but he sounds as if he means it.

He glances back in that direction as well. The most Wellard knows about Barbossa is what was in the books he read when he was younger- and he knows how accurate those can be. Thus, he is carefully reserving his opinion on the man.

"Him and everyone else that came."

"Ah, but when you know what a man-- or a woman-- is willing to do, how far he's willing to go..."

Jack shakes his head once, setting beads rattling, and looks out over the water again. He's humming something under his breath, a haunting little tune.

(The king and his men stole the queen from her bed...)

Abruptly,

"The hard part's yet to come, lad."

Wellard smiles wryly. "What, getting the Pearl and crew out of here and back to the living world? Bringing someone back from the dead and worse isn't supposed to be easy, or else everyone would be doing it, sir."

"And then-" He takes a deep breath.

"Its a Dark-influenced East India Company official with the power of the Wild under his control. I wouldn't think that would be easy to deal with either."

There's something darkly knowing about the look in his eyes, even as he waves his hand elaborately in the air.

"Won't be the first time."

"True- but we can still hope that the overall dealings with the Dark are at a minimum." Wellard mutters, one hand reaching up to rub at a spot over his heart.

"You can bloody well hope so, but I wouldn't count on it, mate," Jack retorts-- and then, catching the movement, eyes him sharply.

"All right there?"

Wellard makes a face, then drops his hand.

"I'm fine." At least for as much as anyone can be, in this situation.

Jack rolls his eyes.

"Whatever you say, son. But I'm glad to hear it anyway."

A beat, and then, casually,

"Seeing as how you're going to have to get used to all that again."

Wellard blinks, then looks at Jack, raising an eyebrow.

"... used to what, again?"

"I'm not the only man on this ship what's currently walking around dead, savvy?"

He gives Wellard a pointed look.

"And it's not like picking and choosing coins from a pouch. 'S not how it works."

Wellard had figured this out in regard for Jack (and the Pearl).

He just had not factored himself into the scenario as well.

By the gut-punched, shocked look on his face, this may be obvious. He leans heavily on the railing, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths.

"...right."

For his part, Jack looks curiously at him.

"Don't tell me it'd never crossed your mind."

"For you." Wellard mutters. "And the Pearl. That's what they talked about."

Another deep breath, and he closes his eyes.

"So, No- it hadn't. Least until now."

"Shame you don't drink rum," Jack observes, watching him with something that might almost be alarm, if one were to look past the fey, feral oddness about him at present.

"Can't think but what a swallow would do you good right about now. Washes over the shock, savvy?"

A quite, humorless laugh, as Wellard rubs the bridge of his nose.

"I think rum is the least of my concerns, now." He shakes his head. "Even if there was any left on board ship."

He glances around; nobody's watching them.

"Lad, if you'd be so good as to look there--" A quiet rattling sound from the beads in his hair accents his words, as Jack nods toward a coil of rope lying on the deck nearby.

The very tip of a bottle can be seen poking up from its nest within. Jack shrugs elaborately and spreads his hands wide, grinning roguishly.

"Washed up from their shipwreck, savvy?"

He opens his eyes to see where Jack is motioning to- and cracks a faint smile. "Not surprised."

That Jack found what is more than likely the last remaining rum in... in wherever they are right now, not at all.

Wellard leans over to snag the bottle. He twists the cork out, and takes a swallow, (coughing and sputtering), before handing the whole affair over to Jack-

That is all he is touching for the time being.

There's not much left in the bottle, but it'll do. Jack takes a swig of his own and offers it back.

He carefully takes it back, jams the cork in the top and places the bottle back in its hiding place.

It is several long minutes later before Wellard speaks again.

"So, if we get out of here..."

By now, Jack's looking back out over the dark water.

When Wellard speaks, it's another several seconds before he glances over at him.

"Aye?"

Wellard is still looking out to the dark horizon.

"Alive. Again. That's usually not something that... most people have a chance to even think of."

"Never been most people."

There's mordant humor in the sardonic observation.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

He glances at Jack, smiling wryly. "Not arguing that."

Wellard shakes his head, and spreads his hands out in a shrug.

"And me, though?"

Jack shoots a sideways glance at him.

"Looks like you're going to get the chance to find out."

Wellard nods slowly, looking back out over the water. "I guess I will, then."

For a long while, there is nothing but darkness, and the faint sounds of the Pearl moving through the silent sea, each of them alone with their own thoughts.

Those, there are plenty of.

Some may even be the same.

"... Do you know how long we were in there, Jack?" Quietly.

He looks out at the ocean without saying anything at all, for a long, long time.

"We still are, mate." Jack doesn't turn away from the water.

"We still are."

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AWE: Black Pearls and Revelations

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