The surrounding crew merely gaped at their captain in confusion, caught off guard by this apparent non sequitur. Several looked to Bootstrap, wondering if the first mate had made any more sense of it than they had, but he seemed to be just as bemused by Jack's command. A moment later, slow realization spread across his face as he began to comprehend part of Jack's plan. "You heard th' cap'n," he said gruffly. "Someone go an' fetch two -no, bes' make it three- buckets. There're plenty t'be had. Quickly!"

As several of the crewmen hurried off to find the demanded buckets, Bootstrap shifted a bit closer to Jack. "Think that'll work?" he asked, lowering his voice. "Logical enough an' all, but it'd seem Jones would've thought o' that long ago."

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Elizabeth shrugged. "Your coat's below if I want it." Nonetheless she leaned against him, not so much for the warmth as for the reassurance, and scanned the sea from that vantage point instead. Quite honestly, she hadn't noticed the cold, and only did now from a vague sense of protecting in the baby, though it hardly needed protection from the wind.

Jack was saying something about buckets, which made her gaze shift to the mouth of Shipwreck Cove. "Are we going ashore?"

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"Hardly welcome, but expected nonetheless," Barbossa called from the bottom of the gangplank. He'd only just taken a break from his vigilant watching of the port in favor of utilizing one of the town's many taverns when a crewman had run after him and informed him that the Dutchman had been spotted approaching. Deeming food to be of secondary import, Barbossa had hurriedly made his way to the docks where the Dutchman now floated. "An' seein' as you've already devised a method o' comin' ashore, I suggest ye do so quickly. The Court has been delayed far too long already."

Bootstrap glanced down at Barbossa with an expression of particular distaste before turning back to the crewmen, who were standing idly and holding the buckets as though unsure why they even had them. "Fill 'em," he said, gesturing impatiently at the water below.

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Elizabeth stiffened instantly. "What do you mean?" she demanded, pulling away from his embrace. Much as she liked it - and much as she had missed it - this scenario was not one she approved of in the least. "If you're going ashore, so am I." The look in her eyes would have discouraged the most determined man from pointing out that she was six months pregnant and had just spent the last few days captive and worried sick. Yes, staying on the ship certainly wouldn't hurt, but pregnancy and captivity did not make Elizabeth any less Elizabeth, and she looked as though no amount of persuasion would see her on that ship when Will was off it.

"What about the Pearl?" she demanded, more out of chagrin than actual reason. "Who's in charge while you're ashore? If anyone stays, it should be you."

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"She be just as welcome as you," Barbossa interjected. "An' while that be admittedly not much, any freedom-lovin' pirate may attend, given that he or she has th' permission of a lord, which ye do. It'd be faster that way anyway, an' we do actually have need of haste. Beckett's forces are not growin' any smaller."

As Barbossa lead the way and the others followed, Bootstrap hung back, putting a hand on Will's arm to indicate that he should do the same. Once they were a good enough distance from the rest of the group, he turned to face his son. "Now Will," he said quietly, so as to not be overheard, "this doesn't happen often, so I want you to pay attention. I know I long ago forfeited my right to give fatherly advice, but I'm reminded of somethin' my da once told me, long before I was even married. Changed my life, it did." He paused here, mostly for dramatic effect. "'Let the pregnant woman win.'" Seemingly content to have given his two pence worth, he rested a hand briefly on Will's shoulder before quickening his pace to catch up with the others.


They arrived at the appointed meeting place quickly enough, given Jack's rather unique method of transportation. Each time he stepped to the next bucket, a crewman from his entourage would have to quickly pick up the now-unoccupied bucket and move it in front of the others for Jack to step into, and so on and so forth. It was slow going at first, but they developed a system soon enough, and at long last entered the large room -constructed from the hull of an old ship- that held the members of the Court. As usual, the air was thick with the shouting, bickering, and threats of defenestration and/or death that characterized a meeting between even two of the pirate lords. That they were tied to the same organization was by no means a reason for any of them to get along. In fact, many seemed to consider it just the opposite.

Banging on the table to get everyone's attention, Barbossa began the meeting. "As he who issued the summons, I convene this, the Fourth Brethren Court," he announced loudly, motioning to Ragetti. The buzz of conversation rose again briefly as the lords were seated, but Barbossa paid it no heed. "Confirm yer lordship an' right to be heard. State now yer name an' title, an' present yer pieces of eight."

(I'm still Ragetti right?)

Ragetti stepped forward to stand by Barbossa's side, prepareing for the comeing loss of eyeball he pulled a eyepatch out of his pocket and solumly waited. At least he was prepared.

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Married Artemis Fowl on July 16, 2007
[!+^$%=#?&]
The Seemingly Nice But Actually Really Nasty Nazgul
School ate my life. *sigh*

((Aye, still yours. Might you be interested in a pirate lord? We still have quite a few open, and any extras will just be divided up among me, melda, FM, and anyone else interested. I can provide information on any of them.))

(Just assign me one and PM the info to me. But I wont be able to play it for a couple of days...)

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Married Artemis Fowl on July 16, 2007
[!+^$%=#?&]
The Seemingly Nice But Actually Really Nasty Nazgul
School ate my life. *sigh*

Scanning the room around the table, packed with members of various crews, one was almost hard-pressed to discern which were the Pirate Lords. Their respective chairs were filled, however, and generally only by themselves, though Jack the monkey seemed to have adopted his namesake's place and sat there chittering quietly. There was Sri Sumbhajee Angria, Captain Chevalle to his right; a space (ostensibly Barbossa's) divided him from Gentleman Joccard, and the last on that side of the long table - marked with many souvenirs of daggers slammed down in annoyance, fists used to do the same, and quite possibly substances of unknown origin stuck to the underside - was Mistress Ching, ramrod-straight in her chair and staring imperiously straight ahead, neither inconvenienced or embarrassed by her blindness.

Being the closest to Barbossa, she began with her own crisply voiced (if accented) introduction. "Mistress Ching, Lady of the Pacific." Her eyeglasses clinked slightly when she dropped them into the shallow dish Ragetti held, and she fell silent, white-powdered face impassive.

Elizabeth followed slightly behind Will, scanning the collective crews with detached curiousity, and studying Mistress Ching in the time it took for her to speak. She felt rather inclined to ask about the conspicuously un-piece-of-eight-like identity of Mistress Ching's item, but decided against it. Nobody seemed quite receptive to the question.

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(After PotR warning me of Melda's mad fury of no one posting, here I am. Posting)

Ammand watched Mistress Ching drop her piece of eight into the shallow bowl. His brooding brown eyes scanned the rest of the group, these were faces he had not seen in a long time. He stroked his mustache carefully, regarding everyone. They all irked him, save for Villaneuva, who was the closest thing to a friend that Ammand had.

Finally Ragetti came to Ammand, the bowl full of the different pieces of eight.

"Ammand the Corsair, Lord of the Black Sea." His voice was deep and gravely, with a steel edge to it, it was this that kept his crew in place. He dropped in his piece of eight, a small chalice carved of a dark stone. One of his fellow pirates added in an undertone;
"Scourge of the Barbary Coast..." Ammand simply smiled cruely at this, his sharp teeth showing through the smile.

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