882 Reasons to Set Sail (Jack)

[barbossa]

“Secure the riggin’!” came the brisk bark of Barbossa as he crossed the deck with a dark scowl on his face, making him look even more fearsome than usual. “And Bootstrap, I had better be able to see the shine in this apple by the time yer finished swabbin’ that deck, else it be the bosun’s lash upon yer back,” he added with a morbid chuckle.

Carrying on with seemingly endless pacing since the Black Pearl had become becalmed, Barbossa paused when he reached the quarterdeck and peered down at the apple he had palmed. After spending a week on nothing but hardtack, this was a far more welcomed sight than the still waters and certainly more appealing than that crew of sea urchins mechanically working below. He would save the apple for now and perhaps take a tempting bite once the sea had stirred to life again. The first mate’s lip curled with disgust as he watched the pirates carry on, looking just as bored and miserable as he was. This was the life of a sailor! They were pirates! They should be pillaging, not plucking barnacles. How long had it been since acts of larceny had been committed? A fortnight, a month? Time escaped Barbossa since they were left to wait and if something interesting did not happen soon- even if the sea remained like glass- madness would sink in; if that settled, their captain would have quite the time trying to sort the crew out. He was half mad himself.

Where was Jack anyway? Barbossa suspected he was up to something based on his recent behaviour but he had no idea what that something was.

[captain]

"Hmm...Isle de Meurta...I see," said Jack, tapping his chin with his forefinger and slightly pulling at his beard. He was seated at the large mapping table in the captain's cabin. 'Captain' meaning him. He was the captain, so the captain's cabin was where he lived. Jack had been on the trace of something...something big, something huge! He tapped his fingers on the worn map, trying to decide what to do.

And with that, he jumped out of his chair and stuck his head out of his cabin door. "Barbossa! In my cabin, please!" he said, to get his first mate to meet him in his cabin. He could only risk telling one person, which would be Barbossa. If he told the whole crew, there might be some kind of mutiny!

Jack turned to shut the cabin door behind him and he sat down in what he thought was a captain-like position, with his left arm sitting on the arm rest, his right arm resting on the other but pointing upwards and his legs resting up on the table. However, his legs quickly slipped off the table, so he settled for them being lazily crossed and resting on the floor.

[barbossa]

It was the very word he had wanted to hear coming exactly from the person he wanted to hear it from; Barbossa’s jaundiced eyes bulged, his jaw clenched, and his head immediately twitched to the right to peer over his shoulder upon hearing his name being called. At long last he was being summoned and all would be unveiled; the wait in the stubbornly still waters had not been for naught after all. Ever alert with one ear constantly listening to the outside world around him, though his mind was focused solely on the occupant in the cabin, Barbossa left the deck to answer his captain’s call.

He was a cold and calculating man, two steps ahead of everyone else, strategy attached to each of those advanced moves. He was nothing like Jack Sparrow, an impulsive, slippery eel but with Barbossa’s brains and Jack’s madcap ways, they made an incredible team, despite having nothing else in common. The expression on his face changed instantly upon entering the cabin, a more respectful mask taking shape, accompanied with an equally respectful but short bow, privately mockingly though it were. Nevertheless it should appeal to Jack’s ego and with a catlike grin Barbossa straightened up, speaking to Jack as if they were best of friends.

“Ye called for me, Cap’n?” he began, the grin twisting further up his face. “I can only surmise that the matter must be somethin’ important for the Sea’s as stubborn as a lady and there has yet to be even the kiss of a breeze. I only hope that fortune has somehow struck in this wretched calm…?”