(no subject)

[bringmethatnpc]

The longboat moves slowly upriver, burdened with more than the weight of its passengers.

All around them, standing waist-deep in the water and amidst the trees, the people of Tia Dalma's swamp have gathered to mark this passing. Each of them carries a candle whose flickering flame reflects from the surface of the water.

In the dimness, the marks of tears show brightly in the candlelight.

Even the natural sounds of the swamp are muted, this evening, buried beneath the low moaning chant that echoes eerily through the air. As the boat approaches, the mourners let it pass, and then draw together once more as they turn to watch its path.

Comments

[turned_captain]

The boats are silent as they move through the swamp, every member of the crew - and their two companions - lost in their own thoughts.

Will, for one, has no wish to break the silence.

He's lost everything.

He failed to keep his word to his father, and Davy Jones lives, the older William Turner enslaved to him for all eternity.

Elizabeth. Elizabeth. He lost her to Jack. And she doesn't know, because he hasn't the nerve to confess what he saw. But he lost her, while risking his life and his soul to save her. She went to the romance and the daring of Captain Jack Sparrow, the pirate with whom Will couldn't hope to compare.

Those two names fill his thoughts. How he failed them, how he lost them. And then the pain becomes too much for coherent thought, and he loses himself.

And not once does he feel regret that Jack is dead.

[bringmethatnpc]

Jack is gone...

That the Pearl is gone, okay, Gibbs isn't happy about that. It really was the fastest ship he'd ever seen, or ever handled. It was never any wonder that Jack and Barbossa both coveted it so. But it was a ship, and by its very nature it was destined to go to Davy Jones' Locker (if not quite so literally).

But that wasn't how it was supposed to be for Jack Sparrow. Men like that, they find a way to outwit death and always with a smile and a flourish. Men like that come home from certain doom with treasure, with tales of love and glory and danger, sometimes even with a beautiful and strangely grateful damsel at his side.

And even if Jack died a glorious death, that wasn't his way. Glorious deaths are for men like Turner, or Norrington. Pirates much prefer glorious lives.

Gibbs hoped that Tia Dalma had a fair supply of rum. On this day, all would need it.

[try_corsets]

Hundreds of candles light the swamp in remembrance of Captain Jack Sparrow. Candles lit to honor him, but Elizabeth sees only condemnation.

There are some choices Elizabeth never thought she would have to make. Choice and decision, for you can't have one without the other here, though one feels heavier on the tongue. The choice made because she wanted to live, wanted to wake each morning and feel the sea breeze, wanted to breathe without the scent of the kraken’s foul breath -- curse Gibbs for telling the tale -- but wouldn't Jack have wanted the same?

He had done the right thing by returning, and then she did something else entirely.

(Pirate)

With the manacle on his wrist and the beast below, Jack had looked at her and smiled, something like approval in his eyes, the curve of his lips.

Every decision she had made since removing the medallion from its hiding place had led her to this point. Jack had been right. She longs to do what she wants, craves that freedom.

(Take what you want, give nothing back)

The Pearl had been Jack's freedom, and she chained him to it, making him a prisoner at the last, even if he was bound to the one thing he loved above all else.

Elizabeth turns away from the others, meeting the eyes of a young woman standing waist deep in the dark waters. She catches her breath as a silent tear falls down the other woman's face, and the flame of her candle flickers. At that moment, as awful as she feels, Elizabeth knows-

She would do it again.

[cleverparasol.livejournal.com]

Pintel's not given to introspection. That's Ragetti's job, nowadays.

Right now, he's mainly thinking that the low humming is unsettling, and the way the mourners close behind the longboats makes him nervous.

If he's dwelling much on the fact that they left Jack, and that the captain went down with his ship . . . Well, he's not showing it much.

[bringmethatnpc]

Music, because music gives the soul a voice.

Raise your voice in his memory. Don't mark his passing in silence.

Tears, because grief should not be held inside.

Let them pass. Tia Dalma will give counsel and comfort.

Prayers, because prayers are always spoken over the dead.

Light a candle for our captain, a great lover of the sea.

Candles, to guide Jack home.