Lee, after agreeing to himself that the riggings where secure, looked over at the Captain and saw Will and Elizabeth leave to go and rest, and also leave there son in Bootstrap's care. Lee frowned. Wouldn't Bootstrap have enough on his mind without having to worry about little William? Lee decided to offer to help him out. He walked over to Bootstrap and Will's son and said, "Capt'n, if you are needing to get things done, little Will can come and stay with me while I do my duties." Lee said, shrugging. "I mean, you might need to do things, considering The Earth Stalker's arrival and all. But, if not sir, I completely understand, Capt'n."

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Barbossa winced slightly at the breaking of the expensive mirror, then shrugged it off mentally and strode over to where Jack was standing by the globe. "The middle o' the Atlantic," he said dubiously, folding his arms across his chest. "An' what, might I ask, are we expectin' to find there, save unfathomable depths of water?"

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Bootstrap paused, his mind working quickly to formulate a more tactful response than 'Bug.ger off.' "Your support is appreciated," he finally replied dryly. "However, I'm confident in the ability o' my men to carry out their duties without me breathin' down their necks. An' with family visits bein' all too rare in the Dutchman's schedule, I trust you'll 'understand' if I choose to take advantage of what few chances I have."

Not bothering to wait for Lee's reply, he quickly strode away and began scanning the deck for young William. Almost immediately, his eyes fell on a slight figure leaning against the railing, the weathered old tricorn still sitting crookedly atop his head. Taking a deep breath, Bootstrap made his way over to where his grandson -grandson! God's teeth, he was getting old!- stood and mirrored the boy's position against the rail. "So," he began hesitantly, trying to think of a suitable topic for discussion. "What's yer impression of the Dutchman, so far?" It was a desperate attempt at conversation; that much was evident the moment the question escaped his lips. He might have made a few (inadequate) ammends for his failures as a father in the past decade, but he still found himself as hopeless at conversing with children as he had been nearly thirty years ago.

Small William regarded him gravely a moment, removing his gaze from the rolling sea off the port side of the Dutchman. "What do I think of it, you mean?" he inquired. His fingers were moving over the railing still, absently, but almost like one born to be at sea.

"Papa talked about the Dutchman, a little," he said eventually. "When Mama wasn't there, I think. He said it...he said she was a beautiful ship." William tripped slightly over the 'she' but after another moment had mastered it. He nodded as if agreeing with his father. "I haven't seen any other ships up close, mostly, but I think she's very pretty."

A shy grin flitted across his face a moment. "I wanted to shoot a cannon. Why didn't that other ship shoot cannons?"

_________________

Bootstrap found himself automatically matching the boy's infectious grin with a slight smirk of his own. He was fairly certain that in all his years aboard, he'd never heard the Dutchman referred to as 'pretty,' but he supposed she did have her own sort of rare beauty, underneath the sheer majesty he usually assosciated with her. To each his own, after all. "Can't promise I'll let you fire a cannon all by yerself just yet, but p'raps if we do a firing drill in th' near future, you'll be able t' help out as a powder monkey," he replied, quickly dodging around the boy's question. "I understand yer mother has a ship of 'er own. Empress, or somethin' like that. Ye don't sail on 'er often, then?"

Lee shrugged and cursed as he went back to his duties. He had really gotton on Bootstraps bad side lately, and Lee just wanted to show the lad around. But, he decided that for now, he needed to get out of Bootstrap's way and just do well on his duties on the ship.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

William shot bolt upright, pulling away from the railing indignantly. "Mama has a ship?" he demanded, not at all subdued anymore. "I saw her talking to Papa about an Empress! Why couldn't I go on her ship?"

Had Will been present he would have known immediately Elizabeth's reluctance - and understood it. When one lost her husband to the sea, to ships, to the call of the ocean and the sound of the wind in your ears...one could hardly be blamed for keeping her only child, her only physical reminder of Will, far away from the sea. Far away from the risk that she might lose small Will, too.

But little William understood none of it and was visibly irate at the discovery. "Does she look like theDutchman?" he pressed, eyes fixed on Bootstrap, expecting (of course) that his grandfather had seen the ship. Very naturally came his use of 'she' in speaking of the ship - another indication that however Elizabeth tried to keep him away, small Will was a Turner and therefore a sailor at heart.

_________________

Bootstrap paused, struggling remember. If memory served him (not something that could be counted on during the period he was trying to recall), then the Empress was the small ship the Dutchman had captured back during the conflict between the EITC and the pirates. He'd only seen it briefly, not long after he'd first met Elizabeth, then escaped from the brig and come out on deck and- "I'm not certain," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "Only laid eyes on 'er once, and not for long." An' I wasn't exactly in my right mind at the moment. "I'd imagine not, though. If memory serves, she was of Chinese build, meanin' she'd be much smaller an' rigged differently....No doubt yer mother leaves 'er in the command of another most o' the time, so as to spend as much time as you as possible."

((EITC- Eastern Idaho Technical College! lol Anyway, I think I'm going to drop out o' this one, mates. I'm not posting or contributing much at all. Sorry!))

"She never told me about a ship," said William, with slightly less volume but (if possible) mounting indignance. "Where did Mama and Papa go?" he demanded, turning from the railing. "I want her to tell me about it!"

A cursory inspection of the deck revealed said personages to be nowhere in sight. Little Will made for the hatch leading belowdecks at full speed, hat askew again and looking very determined to pry every last detail about this unknown ship out of his mother.

_________________

Lee looked around at his crewmates and sighed. They were not very talkative today...or any other day, unless there was a battle. That seemed to be the only action he could partake in, lately. And since there was no reason for any battles lately, the Dutchman could be a pretty lonely place.

_________________


Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Barbossa regarded Jack narrowly for a moment, then nodded shortly. "Expound."
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Bootstrap hastily caught up to William and placed himself between the boy and the stairs. "Yer mother an' father have had a rough few days, lad," he said, placing his hands on William's shoulders and gently -but firmly- turning him away. "What say we let 'em rest for a bit, aye? I've no pressin' duties at the moment, an' so I can tell you anythin' about this ship you'd like. Or about your father. Just ask, an' I'll do my da- my very best to answer."

William cast a look belowdecks that indicated he'd much rather be there, and seemed on the point of arguing. His mouth was, in fact, open in order to do that very thing - but he seemed to catch sight of something past Bootstrap, and in an instant had forgotten entirely about accosting his mother. Making for the railing with the speed of a curious ten-year-old, he leaned over to examine what seemed a strange undercurrent in the calm ocean, as if from a school of fish.

There were sparkles beneath the waves, a scaly tail flipping - but also infinitesimal glimpses of what looked like a face, or dark hair streaming out under the water. "What's that?"

_________________

Ouch.

For the umpteenth time that hour, Joshamee Gibbs smashed his head against the wall. Cursing fluently and rubbing his sore skull, he wriggled himself into a more comfortable position - a difficult matter, squished on the deck between two casks of rum and the outside wall of the captain's cabin. While he'd been in stickier spots - squeezed between pig bums, for instance - the temptation was bloody impossible. All he had to do was accidentally punch the cask, and all that wonderful rum would come pouring out like high tide...

Ouch.

To his extreme disappointment, he found that he'd dozed off again and cracked his forehead on the rum cask in front of him. He mentally shouted at himself for thirty seconds before coming to and recalling what, exactly, he was squished here for. He grunted and stretched up, pressing his ear against the wall in time to catch Barbossa ask about "unfathomable depths of water." How queer.

"... a magnificent city... lost to the depths many years ago by an unfathomable disaster..."

Hardly able to contain his excitement, Gibbs leapt to his feet, earning himself alarmed stares from the crewmen on deck, and threw himself against the door with his speech all shiny and rehearsed: Atlantis! Ye wouldn' be meanin' Atlantis, now, would ye? He might as well have hurled himself against the ship's hull. The door was securely locked, though the two occupants inside surely heard a rather loud thump from the other side.

_________________

[I got a plot. if discussion required, pm/im me. status quo:
Dutchman is good, still headed for Delphi.
Barbossa has taken Jack's charts and ship. The charts show a land route to Atlantis, where he believes the trident can be found.
Jack never stowed away on the Pearl. He and Gibbs took a dinghy off from Tortuga. He has no idea where he's going, but he knows he wants that trident. He's following his compass. Calypso has promised him eternal captainship of the Pearl if he hands her the trident.
Earth Shaker is also headed for Atlantis. He's about to meet up with Barbossa and propose the same deal Calypso offered Jack.]


"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..."

The bottle of rum, rain pattering on its glass, shifted from hand to hand. It tilted once to meet eager lips, then fell back with profound disappointment into the shifty hand game. After all, one couldn't do much with an empty bottle of rum. Pitiful, pitiful. One couldn't do much the drizzle either. Or an incompetent first mate. Or a dinghy in the middle of the ocean. Or the Pearl sailing cheerfully off in the opposite direction, captained by none other than Hector Barbossa.

And in the middle of this bloody mess, who else but the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow?

"We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack... drink up m'hearties, yo ho..." Jack leaned back on the little seat and stared at the empty bottle. With a kind of strange fascination, he watched water drip down the end of his nose. Drip. Drip. How long had it been since they sailed this God-forsaken dinghy out of Tortuga? An hour. A day. Drip. Drip. He wondered if Joshamee had any rum stashed up his coat. He would have to ask. Right now. Someday.

Up went the rum bottle, right to his lips again. Right. Empty. Screwing his nose in disgust, he tossed the bottle over the side of the dinghy, where it vanished in a haze of rain. He flicked a similarly disgusted look at Gibbs, the lucky oarsman. "Can ye go any slower, mate."

In the spirit of taking his mind off things, he picked up his compass from where it sat the bench beside him. He flipped it open and narrowed his eyes. The arrow was as resolute as ever. Or as resolute as never. In any case, it wasn't madly spinning, which was a start. He assumed he knew where it pointed. Rather, he hoped.

"De trident, Jack. Give me de trident, an' your precious ship is yours for all eternity."

The blasted trident. Muttering an incoherent oath, Jack stared at his compass and gave it a little shake. The arrow, its tip pointing at some obscure location behind him, didn't budge. He grinned complacently and stashed it back inside his pocket. Then, as if to humor the quivering arrow, he glanced over his shoulder. A veil of drizzle, a field of gray seas. Nothing else. Just as he expected. He turned halfway back around.

Hold on.

Jaw slightly slack, he turned slowly back around. There it was. Growing out of the gray, like some shadowy island. Except islands didn't have hulls. They didn't have tattered sails either. He knew that ship. Scowling, he consulted his compass again. Resolute and unyielding, it was pointing straight at...

Poseidon's trident was aboard the Flying Dutchman?

_________________

Bootstrap was at the railing before William had even finished his question. He frowned in consternation as the shimmering shapes glided about below the waves, an expression that only deepened as realization sunk in. Hastily pulling William back from the railing, he opened his mouth to call out an order, only to be cut off by a shout from the crow's nest.

"Mermaids!" Penrod cried, clambering down the rigging with such haste that he barely even made use of the ratlines. "Mermaids, Cap'n," he repeated breathlessly the moment his feet touched the deck. "Swarmin' about jus' below us. Kelpies if I e'er saw-"

Bootstrap cut him off with a wave of his hand. Looking up, he realized that most of the crewmen had already gathered around them and were listening intently to the conversation. "I know," he said evenly, refusing to show any signs of concern - yet. "We're bein' tailed, no doubt. S' the only explanation."

Clanker, who'd been one of the few to think to grab a weapon following Penrod's alarmed shout, had cocked the rifle he held and was already making his way toward the railing to do a bit of mermaid-hunting when Bootstrap intercepted him and took the firearm away.

"Not yet," Bootstrap insisted. "They've done nothin' but follow yet, an' it's seldom wise to start a fight with a mermaid. 'Specially when they outnumber us."

Several crewmen grumbled, but all grudgingly put away their weapons and joined their captain at the railing. For what seemed like hours, but in reality couldn't have been more than a minute or two, they stared down at the mermaids and watched as they continued to swim to and fro around the ship, their movements forming an eerily captivating dance. Subconsciously, Bootstrap placed a protective hand on William's shoulder, though his eyes never left the water below them. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the mermaids vanished from sight.

The men stood there in a daze for a moment longer before they finally began to come out of it. Bootstrap was in the process of forcing himself to look anywhere but the water when one of the crewmen let out a startled cry. "Cap'n! Boat!"

Frowning, Bootstrap followed the man's gaze, only to realize that there was, indeed, a dinghy floating in the mist, carrying two passengers. Not an uncommon sight in the other world, but here in the world of the living....He shook his head, and tried to get a better look. If he didn't know better, he'd say that one of the men bore an uncanny resemblance to...

"Jack!"

Bootstrap was at the railing before William had even finished his question. He frowned in consternation as the shimmering shapes glided about below the waves, an expression that only deepened as realization sunk in. Hastily pulling William back from the railing, he opened his mouth to call out an order, only to be cut off by a shout from the crow's nest.

"Mermaids!" Penrod cried, clambering down the rigging with such haste that he barely even made use of the ratlines. "Mermaids, Cap'n," he repeated breathlessly the moment his feet touched the deck. "Swarmin' about jus' below us. Kelpies if I e'er saw-"

Bootstrap cut him off with a wave of his hand. Looking up, he realized that most of the crewmen had already gathered around them and were listening intently to the conversation. "I know," he said evenly, refusing to show any signs of concern - yet. "We're bein' tailed, no doubt. S' the only explanation."

Clanker, who'd been one of the few to think to grab a weapon following Penrod's alarmed shout, had cocked the rifle he held and was already making his way toward the railing to do a bit of mermaid-hunting when Bootstrap intercepted him and took the firearm away.

"Not yet," Bootstrap insisted. "They've done nothin' but follow yet, an' it's seldom wise to start a fight with a mermaid. 'Specially when they outnumber us."

Several crewmen grumbled, but all grudgingly put away their weapons and joined their captain at the railing. For what seemed like hours, but in reality couldn't have been more than a minute or two, they stared down at the mermaids and watched as they continued to swim to and fro around the ship, their movements forming an eerily captivating dance. Subconsciously, Bootstrap placed a protective hand on William's shoulder, though his eyes never left the water below them. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the mermaids vanished from sight.

The men stood there in a daze for a moment longer before they finally began to come out of it. Bootstrap was in the process of forcing himself to look anywhere but the water when one of the crewmen let out a startled cry. "Cap'n! Boat!"

Frowning, Bootstrap followed the man's gaze, only to realize that there was, indeed, a dinghy floating in the mist, carrying two passengers. Not an uncommon sight in the other world, but here in the world of the living....He shook his head, and tried to get a better look. If he didn't know better, he'd say that one of the men bore an uncanny resemblance to...

"Jack!"