*yeah, i don't know how to bring mine in either!*

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"I think I'm adorable."
~Dean Winchester~
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"Very well, for the sake o' the argument, let's say the trident can be found an' won't cost me more than I'm willin' to pay," Barbossa assented, folding his arms and regarding Jack narrowly. "What, then, is to stop me from merely shootin' you here an' now, takin' the map for myself, an' settin' off on my own little excursion on my ship?"
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"Aye, I imagine you can, an' a good bit better'n I could ever hope t' accomplish, I'd wager," Bootstrap said with a slight grin. "You'll have to treat th' crew to a show one night, eh? I'm sure they'd appreciate the entertainment."

Elizabeth looked up in surprise as Will suddenly broke the embrace and walked off. Her first instinct was to follow him, but no sooner had she taken a step in that direction than she stopped and turned back around. There was a time to rush to his side and provide support, and a time to back off and let him sort things out on his own. She often had to remind herself that for just as long as she had been absent her husband, Will had been absent his wife. She could not imagine all that had transpired aboard this ship in the past decade, but it had clearly left its mark on Will.

"Will he be like this for the whole journey?" she asked Bootstrap quietly, catching the captain's arm as he walked by.

Bootstrap looked after his son thoughtfully. "Hard t' say," he replied finally. "One doesn't captain this vessel for a decade and remain unchanged, but th' Dutchman never leaves the same mark on two men. He might need a few days, might need a few weeks...might need a few years. Hard to judge at this point."

"We had only just begun behaving like a normal family..." Elizabeth murmured, watching her husband's every move as he strode around the deck.

"If there's one thing I've learned about us Turners," Bootstrap said, grinning wryly, "it's that we are anythin' but a 'normal family.'"

Offering Elizabeth one last consoling smile, Bootstrap turned and left. He began to follow his son around the deck, his long strides easily matching Will's until they were walking side-by-side. They continued in this manner without speaking for some time until finally he cleared his throat. "Ho-Kwan decided the railing needed some new detailing," he commented, indicating the new trim with one hand. Inclining his head toward the helm, he added, "An' we finally fixed th' wheel so it doesn' try to stick every time it hits twenty degrees starboard like it used to."

During Jack's touching speech, Gibbs was screwing his face in his classic what-the-bloody-are-ye-talkin'-about-now-captain expression. You know the one. He was about to interject that Barbossa, with all his spiffy gray hairs, was probably the more experienced of the two captains - when something warned him against it. After all, Captain Jack Sparrow could have quite a nasty glare if he resorted to it.

"Aye, Jack's right ye know," Gibbs said in consoling tones. He beamed at Barbossa, then winced just as quickly when said captain's gaze flicked disdainfully over him. "So what now... ah! Ship!" Skillfully manuevering the subject around dangerous waters, Joshamee kindly cleaned up everyone's mugs of rum. Cleaned up without intention of returning them to the bartender, that is. Jack even had some rum left in his cup. What a waste.

"Our headings are set, and the skies won't be growin' any brighter!" he rambled on pleasantly, beginning to lead the way out of the tavern. Headings? Right, Jack knew them.

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"Aye, and I see the mainsail's been repaired," said Will, but he was thinking of something else. The railing was carved more intricately, he noted while running his fingers over it, but it wasn't that that troubled him. "Taken better care of her than I did," he offered with a smile that only touched his lips a moment. The Dutchman held myriad curious memories, many of them ones Will would perhaps prefer to forget.

He swung easily down the steps, hardly touching them, and went to stand by his son. It was still an odd thought sometimes, to think of having one. William glanced up inquiringly and this time Will did smile back - a real smile. "Sails need hoisting," he said, indicating the nearest securely tied off rope with a jerk of his head. "Give the crew a hand?"

When they set off it was not so much William giving the crew a hand as it was his father giving him one, but by the time they were ten minutes at sea William was wearing his hat at a rakish angle, which was still at odds with his serious expression, and was being quite endearing in his imitation of his father.

"Can I go up there?" he wanted to know the moment Will's boots hit the deck from unfurling the foresail. The furtive glance cast at Elizabeth did not quite escape Will's notice. "Maybe you'd better not."

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Barbossa stared inquiringly after the odd pair for a moment before mentally shrugging and turning his attention back to what lay on the table. Jack, in a stroke of brilliance, had left behind his sole bargaining chip. Glancing about to ensure that both pirates were, indeed, gone, Barbossa casually rolled up the map and tucked it neatly into his coat. Perhaps this trident might be worth pursuing after all...
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"Not right now, William," Elizabeth agreed, slowly threading her arm through her husband's again and grasping his hand. She wanted that reassurance, childish though it may seem, that he was not going to walk away again. "The sea is a bit too choppy, and there are men trying to work. Perhaps on a calmer day when your father and I are both with you."

Her logic sounded weak even to her own ears; they would not likely have a calmer day than this, especially once they were in the middle of the Atlantic, and now that they were underway, the sailors would be more than happy to indulge the son of their former captain. Truth be told, safety wasn't even her main concern. That wasn't to say that she wasn't concerned for her son's safety, of course. She'd discovered that the older William grew, the more she found herself quoting her father. The boy had received his father's quieter nature, no doubt, but he had also managed to pick up his mother's penchant for getting into trouble. She could not count the number of times she had warned him to be please more careful or claimed that he was going to turn her prematurely gray, only to stop and smile sadly as she recalled being told the same things many a time. She often wondered if this was, indeed, how her father had felt, watching his sole surviving joy recklessly throw herself into harm's way at every given opportunity.

But, nonetheless, her current concern truthfully was not safety. No, if she was perfectly honest with herself, then she had to admit that she didn't want William to learn how to sail. Of course, she knew that she was merely prolonging the inevitable. Both of his parents had the sea in their veins, and as Bootstrap has so inconveniently pointed out, a Turner at sea was a Turner at home. She knew the day would come when William would have to answer the siren call of the sea. But for as long as she could postpone that day, she would. For as soon as a boy learned how to sail, he learned how to sail away.

Will wrapped his fingers around his wife's hand almost reflexively, glad in turn for the reassurance. He glanced very briefly at her at her agreement that perhaps little Will should not go up into the rigging quite yet, but dismissed the questioning thought and straightened his son's hat fondly. "Aye. Not today."

William looked perhaps a little crestfallen. Will slung an arm around his shoulders and pointed up at where Bootstrap stood with his spyglass in hand. "He's keeping a weather eye on the horizon. It's wise, at sea. If you ask him he'll show you how."

He watched the littlest Will Turner scamper off among working sailors before turning to Elizabeth, hand still in hers, and starting towards the captain's cabin. "I want to show you something."

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(i've been checking back to see where i can jump in but i am throughly confused, anyone wanna help me out?)

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Hello, I'm Amoniel
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((I am too....amoniel, could jump back in together? just as soon as we figure out what is going on! ))

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

((I'm just kinda hanging out until the Earth Shaker or Oracle comes into play lol))

(i don't know how to jump in............)

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<center>
"I think I'm adorable."
~Dean Winchester~
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(sure tur! :sits and waits for someone to help: )

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[font=Times New Roman]
Hello, I'm Amoniel
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(I've been gone all weekend but i can't come in untill the Oracle does.)

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((thanks Amoniel! ))

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

[if you're in Jack's crew, did you read the first posts? they're in Tortuga]

"Ah, cap'n!" Mr. Gibbs exclaimed cheerily. He stood on his toes, peering over the crowd, though he already had a decent idea where Hector and the map were. In the same place, of course. Barbossa was ever the spontaneous opportunist. It occurred to him that perhaps they should force their way back to confront him.

But the drunks were howling, the stench was stifling, the rain wasn't relenting, and the roof wasn't self-fixing. All Gibbs wanted to do was get back on the security of the Pearl. He could already feel the fresh sea breeze on his face. Mayhap he'd even break a new cask of rum for the occassion.

"Ah, cap'n," he said cheerily. "Look's like the map's in good hands. The Pearl awaits." His logic was sound, at least to him. Barbossa would have nothing to do with the map if he had no ship. To the docks they go, then. With Jack on his heels, he led the way, picking a path through the rowdy throngs.

If anything, the day was even more miserable outside. The rain chilled him to the marrow. Lightning flashed once, twice in the roiling skies above. Thunder rolled in the distance. The more sober ones ran for cover. The drunks seemed not to notice. They milled about in the rain, bantering, slapping their thighs, slapping their neighbors' thighs, and generally having a grand ol' time.

Joshamee shook his head. What was this world coming to?

The Pearl was docked a little ways off from shore. A ghost in the hazy gray, its vague outline was barely discernable. Gibbs took one look at their waterlogged rowboat and growled under his breath. "Well, cap'n. Seems like we got ourselves a bit of a problem. Any chance o'makin' Marty swim out t'the ship?"

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(yes, but where, are they still in the cabin or on the ship. The posts are all very confusing )

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[font=Times New Roman]
Hello, I'm Amoniel
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((no, I'm in Will's crew....but I can switch if needed...))

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly