(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]

Will is also nodding. He needs the Pearl to save his father.

He also wants Elizabeth to be happy again.

"Yes."

[touch-destiny.livejournal.com]

The smile that begins to grow slowly across Tia Dalma's lips is one they haven't yet seen. There is not coyness to it, no wickedness, no secret she is laughing about behind those dark markings and eyes.

"All right," she agrees, and as she turns her gaze upon them all once more, her eyes gleam, red-rimmed and bright.

"But if ye gwine brave the weird and haunted shores at World's End, then you will need a captain who knows these waters."

So saying, she turns to cast her eyes at the staircase, her posture expectant and that odd smile odder than ever.

[bringmethatnpc]

The atmosphere, swamp-muggy and oppressive, makes it hard to breathe sometimes; that hasn't changed. It is simply and suddenly more. Suddenly thick, suddenly... breathless.

Thunk.

There's that wooden sound again, loud as Will's knife was in the silence - louder. But creaking, heavier.

And overhead.

Thunk.

[cleverparasol.livejournal.com]

Pintel follows her gaze.




Oh bloody hell.

[gotmy-eye.livejournal.com]

Ragetti's eye slides over


- it can't be, but-


... start believing in ghost stories.

[bringmethatnpc]

No ghost - not quite. But he would know. No? Know that tread, know that measured pace on wooden boards above his head. Know the gleam of - not moonlight, this time, but candlelight - on the pair of black leather boots that appear on the stairs.

Thunk.

Thunk.

No ghost.

But the stories have to come from somewhere.

Thunk.

[bringmethatnpc]

Gibbs utters a silent and fearful prayer.

What kind of deal with the devil have they made?

[bringmethatnpc]

Oh, now. Such harsh words.

After all.

Isn't this a sight for sore eyes?

[try_corsets]

A captain?

Staring at her mug, Elizabeth hears a thunk, thunk -- not a knife this time, but boots on stairs.

(A captain. After all, what's a crew without a captain?)

Uncertainty wrestles with curiosity as Elizabeth stands and moves closer to Will for a better look.

One last thunk, and black leather boots come to rest on the dusty wooden floor.

Her mouth drops open.

A captain indeed, but certainly not a captain she ever expected to see again, sore eyes or not.

But...

Impossible.

And yet, it seems nothing is impossible anymore.

[turned_captain]

Will doesn't even think as he moves part way in front of Elizabeth, almost protectively.

This really is impossible. And the last thing he'd ever want.

[bringmethatnpc]

Perhaps not, but it's done now - for better or worse. And it's hardly impossible. Young Master Turner, after all, though a fine upstanding gentleman he be, can't but have heard the stories by now.

(And the stories have to come from somewhere.)

A ship, they whisper fearfully, with black sails - crewed by the damned. And captained, as they can't help but look over their shoulders, by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out.

Stained teeth, and a filthy smile - the word it brings to mind is shark.

"So tell me," says Captain Barbossa, as he lifts a vivid green apple to his mouth. "What's become of my ship?"

---

FIN