(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 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