Name: Elizabeth Swann | Mentions: William Turner

A cool breeze blew through the open windows, it smelt like ocean which was always somewhat of a comfort to Elizabeth. Sleeping or rather falling asleep had become much easier ever since the return of her husband. Though something seemed off occasionally, she pinned it on him being gone for so long. Elizabeth was overjoyed to see William again, she wasn’t as excited to feel the crushing weight of guilt that she had managed just fine whilst he was away. An expert at hiding feelings, she tried to make sure all he saw was delight plastered on her face. It seemed to be working, the guilt was numbing over time. Sometimes her joy in seeing him overpowered the feeling of guilt but it was always there, even if just a slither.

Thoughts like these constantly brewed in Elizabeth’s mind, semi-conscious she rolled over. Convinced that all she needed was Will’s arm around her to make her mind rest. Her hand touched cold and empty bedsheets. Elizabeth’s eyes flew open. She couldn’t see much in the dark whilst her eyes were adjusting but she knew one thing for certain, Will was gone. Seeing as the bedsheets were cold, he had surely been gone for a while now. She was sure he was there as they went to bed. Elizabeth sat up, puzzled with distress rising in her chest. She slipped out of bed and walked to the window. The wooden floors creaked as she did so, making the rest of her surroundings seem eerily quiet. She gazed out over the town, hardly any lights were on. Further in the distance, there was one set of lights. Elizabeth assumed that was the pub. She’d only been once, maybe. It surely wasn’t to drink. She stared at the glowing lights for a few seconds before shaking her head. She knew William, he wasn’t one to drink. Or so she kept telling herself.

Elizabeth leant against the wall beside the window, she really had nothing to worry about. She was overthinking things as usual. She wasn’t going to go snooping unless it really became a problem. Moving from the window and sitting on the edge of the bed, Elizabeth knew she wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep. It was now just time to wait until Will came home, if her patience lasted that long.

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Name: Jack Sparrow | Mentions: ---Open---

"I say, old man, your horse is dead.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
I say, old man, your horse is dead.
Oh! Poor old Man!

One month a rotten life we've led.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
While you lay on y'er feather bed.
Oh! Poor old Man!

But now th' month is up, ol' turk.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
Get up, ye swine, an' look for work.
Oh! Poor old Man!

Get up, ye swine, an' look for graft.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
While we lays on an' yanks ye aft.
Oh! Poor old Man!

An' yanks ye aft t' th' cabin door.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
An' hopes we'll ne-ver see ye more.
Oh! Poor old Man!

The tuneless shanty that slurred from tipsy lips was almost crude, no more than a hushed whisper within the dimly lit corner of one of many rat holes Tortuga bore with pride. Hat crooked angularly upon his weathered head as to keep his features concealed, it was perhaps bizarre of Jack Sparrow to have kept somewhat of a low-profile. In Tortuga, of all places, at that. However a slurred, sombre shanty reflected the mood of a sombre man, and in musing thought was he.

Something troubled him, though he was further troubled upon the dawning comprehension he could not name exactly what, nor why he had decided to dock as he had. But contentedly did the 'Pearl sit upon slow tides while the waves whispered of promise and plunder, but tonight, Jack did not heed the call of freedom.

He was rather reflective, as a matter of fact, which was odd. Odd. His lip curled at the thought, otherwise expressionless features narrowing into a squint as he idly shook the remaining dregs of rum within the bartered bottle, he was growing less and less favourable of such a word. Odd things often seemed to bring trouble nowadays, though if asked the question once out of his brooded funk? He'd've dryly remarked there was no better way to be. A slight sigh, perhaps vaguely irritable as bleary eyes wearily spared the compass a glance all-the-while raising the bottle to parched lips.

The mumble drowned by drink might've been something along the lines of 'Piss off', though as the base of the bottle returned to the table he'd merely snap the preoccupied compass shut. "Later..." The tone in which he spoke was almost scolding his beloved object, but even he could not place why, rather undecided as to whether he was simply drunk, or it very well had a mind of its own, perhaps it was sentient. Hell, the dead were, and they were...Well, DEAD, he supposed.

It bothered him it appeared so busy, to his currently shallow consciousness? He neither wanted nor thought of anything in particular.

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Camilla/Tyrant|Location:Open Ocean; Flying Dutchman|Mentions:none

The wild-haired woman stood on the bow of her cursed ship, glaring out over the open water. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly, her expression stoic. The salty wind stung her face, and she smelled fish and seaweed. Her smile was wide, and she began laughing in her raspy voice.

Since she had nowhere in particular to be, she locked her wheel in place, and retreated into the more comfortable confines of a hammock by the wheel. With a sigh, she watched as the shore slowly came into view. She clicked her stony fingers together as she watched the port get closer and closer.

Tevinter|Port waters| Mentions: none
The night was calm as she stared into the dark night. Her tail was submerged in the water, and her pale top half stuck out of the water. The part of her that was under water, it swayed slightly from the waves. With a disappointed sigh, she felt sadness well up in her chest as no one was out in the town that night.

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b>Name: Serysa | Mentions: ---Open---

The Siren herself could give no more than an otherworldly wail. A series of lamenting wails and screeches in her unrelenting fury, such in itself capable of chilling even the most sea-faring man to his core had she not already been within the darker depths, angular tail fins swishing with purpose as she weaved almost agitatedly through the thick beams. Tortuga. Pirates were unfavourable, but drunks were loathed more-so. They tasted as they looked. Disgusting.

Alcohol tainted their blood and blotched reddened features, even a handsome man turned haggard with bliss beneath the influence that overpowered even her own as they swaggered about the shore slurring hollered shanties of a rather crude nature without any specific purpose. They might've had one many hours before perhaps, but most often than not it was rather difficult to recall whatever their scattered minds had thought up earlier, before the rum and merriment of men...

Had she pursued a meal, Tortuga was a last resort and reluctant even then. Food however, was the last thing upon her rather complex mind, such in itself preoccupied in parroting what hissed insult the pirate dared utter. 'Slimy git...' Shark-esque eyes narrowed dangerously as her head jerked up towards the silhouette of the pier that led men to docked ships. He needn't have been so unnecessarily harsh, she was only playing, if she wanted Sparrow dead he very well would've been! She was not incompetent. Ah no, perhaps just sentimental, she did so love to play.

It was the fact he had dared crush her hand beneath his boot that turned play into malicious intent, keeping with the 'Pearl upon her venture to the Port thereafter as a shark might've pursued a baiting boat inclined to drop chum. It was rather common knowledge Merfolk were a proud people, and at the risk of having such pride insulted, having been harmed and called something she was not, that the infamous Cap'n had to be taught. All men learnt lessons, war proved such, for as the seas blazed with cannon fire and flame? Men learnt danger and death, in blood, fire and anguish.

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Name: Georgiana Sparrow - Mentions: Jack Sparrow
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Georgie pushed her forehead against the wooden wall of the lavatory. She had thought scrubbing the decks on board ships had been hard - although it had been hardest on a pirate ship rather than navy or cargo - but scrubbing the disgusting tavern toilets on Tortuga was the worst kind of torture she'd ever known. It would be worth it though, in her mind, when she finally found her father. It had taken one cargo boat, two pirate ships and a navy boat to find out that Tortuga was where most pirates docked at some point as well as the fact if Jack Sparrow could be found anywhere it was either with the ship The Black Pearl or at Tortuga. It had taken another pirate ship after that to reach Tortuga, longer still with the detours the Captain had insisted on, and since she'd disembarked onto Tortuga Georgie had stayed, waiting for The Black Pearl to arrive. So far she hadn't seen a single black ship but he would have to turn up some time. Georgie was sure the ship would arrive, as would Jack Sparrow, and she'd finally have the family she'd always dreamed of.

Running a hand through her tangled, bushy hair, Georgie smeared more dirt across her sweaty, pale forehead as she finally finished cleaning for the day. She returned what meager cleaning supplies she'd been given (and some she'd made) back where they belonged before telling the bartender she was done for the day and she was heading home. With that said Georgie left the tavern, doing her best not to look anyone in the eye as she swerved and wriggled through the crowd until she finally burst through the doors and out into the open air. You learnt fast on Tortuga not to make eye contact unless you wanted a fight or adult entertainment, and Georgie wanted neither. Of course it made things easier dressing up in male clothing, letting her hair stay wild, and staying just a little dirtier then most would to pass off as a boy. Granted she looked like a little chubby boy in his father's larger clothing but that was far better then having any of the visitors or residents of Tortuga as well as the sailors of the sea knowing she was a woman.

Georgie was about to duck into one of the many alleyways to find a nook to sleep in for the night when a strange sea shanty hit her ears. Frowning, she turned in the direction she was sure the sound was coming from. She hadn't heard that voice yet on Tortuga. Of course she'd been to the Port this morning to check what ships were in but there were no new ones then. Perhaps a new ship had docked? If a new ship had come to Tortuga then it would be worth checking it out and if it wasn't the Black Pearl maybe seeing if the crew of the ship knew where the Black Pearl was. With that thought in mind Georgie set off in a determined walk to locate the source of the singing. What, or rather who, she found shocked her completely. Quick as a whip she yanked a piece of paper out from the inside pocket of her old, worn, dark brown leather waistcoat and unfolded it to view the wanted poster for Captain Jack Sparrow. Looking from the picture to the man infront of her Georgie realised she may have just found her father. Everything she'd done had been to get to this moment and in this moment all she had learnt, all the maturity she had gained disappeared as she ran to him excitedly, like a child on their birthday presented with their dream gift...

"Daddy!"


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Name: Anamaria Garcia - Mentions: Open
________________________________________________________________________________

Anamaria barely gave a glance at the young, wild haired girl in disguise as they passed each other. The girl left the tavern whilst Anamaria entered it, bored out of her mind and she hadn't even been on Tortuga that long yet. What she wanted was to leave port and get a move on to finding the next treasure. She needed more coin but no matter how desperate she was she refused to be reduced to a bedwarmer to earn her way. She was worth more then that and would quite easily shoot anyone who implied or said otherwise. She had briefly contemplated being a gun for hire on the slow periods like this but even as a pirate, as ruthless as she had to be, she wasn't sure she could go kill someone for money - especially if the target was innocent. It was one of the many reasons Jack had called her the 'delicate flower of the caribbean'. Part may have been the fact she wasn't bad to look at, but Jack seemed to have this way of looking into someone's soul and knowing exactly what was there. She could fool everyone but him.

She hated that. She also hated that her replacement ship, the Interceptor, was stranded and in need of repairs back at her home where the Pirate Kings used to converge. She needed the coin to buy the materials to fix her. Of course it would have been better if she hadn't needed a replacement in the first place but then she'd never thought at the time Jack Sparrow would steal her boat the Jolly Mon and have it sink at Port Royal. As much sentiment as she had with the Jolly Mon, it would cost far more to get her out of the sea and repair her then just repairing her replacement, the Interceptor. Anamaria didn't have any intention of raising any more coin then needed to buy the materials to repair her ship. She knew it would take years if she had to get someone else to repair the ship and so she'd do her best to repair the darn thing herself. She'd survived on her own since she could remember. She hadn't needed a man when she was born and she didn't need one now. Of course she didn't need women either but sometimes it was hard to ignore a damsel in distress. The small part of childish innocence that hadn't been torn away by time still wanted to be the heroine as well as still wanted to find her own knight in shining armour - or at least that was how the stories went as far as she remembered.

Grumbling under her breath, Anamaria sat down on a stool at the bar and ordered a pint. She felt this was going to be a long, boring and unfruitful time in Tortuga for her.

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(Sob. I posted and it logged me out and ate the post. Ffs /retype Gotta love Georgie's subtlety xD)

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Name: Jack Sparrow | Mentions: Georgina Sparrow

"-An' we say so, an' we hope so!
Oh! P-...Ay?"

Jack could offer the girl that stood before him no more than a drunken look of little thought overall, shanty having faded to a slurred noise upon his lips at the interruption, bottle rested against such. As said bottle returned to the table untouched however, it was rather obvious to see he was...Flummoxed for lack of a better word, and though a complex man of word and reputation? In the rather blank stare there were no afterthoughts or processes as to who she was or why she called him....That. A sober mind might've been inclined to show a little more coherence, a drunken one was at an utter loss, at least until something clicked. Ah.

"-A little young to be a Horologist, eh, love?" Truly it was surprising, if not in the slightest bit concerning. Horologists were easily found, Tortuga was infamous for such, but surely even Tortuga had some standards! Frankly, had Carina Barbossa been present, she may have very well choked upon her drink at his idiocy and misunderstanding of the word she'd tried hopelessly to explain. Then again maybe not, he very much doubted she'd be seen in a place such as this, considering she wasn't a horologist.

Evidently, a Horologist was not the word he was thinking of. Oblivious to such, he did not process the fact that if she was one of Tortuga's many 'Horologists', it wasn't at all likely she'd bother dressing in men's clothing. Had he been sober, he'd've jumped to some other form of conclusion, being drunk however? His mind, limited in thought by beloved alcohol, accepted such for what he believed it to be. What he knew. It did not strike him as odd nor cross his mind, instead, he offered no more than a wry smile as he guestimated she'd like to know how he had recognised her for what she was. A female.

A hand merely waved rather misguidedly in her general direction, "-You want to know how I know. I know, because..." A pause as he stared blankly at her, having clearly, momentarily, lost his train of thought within his present state, '...B-Because, I know. 'M not a fool, love, I know women when I see women, I know they have to pretend. 'Cause 's bad luck to have Women aboard, eh Gibbs?" The smile faltered upon looking around, as if having only just realised he had again come alone to Tortuga, to his knowledge anyways. "-Right..." Said hand now rubbed groggily at his features, pleased to have found the he and his compass appeared to agree in what they wanted if direction was anything to heed.

They wanted out. Horologists were persistant, and hit very hard, for women, anyways...Even when you didn't deserve it.

"'M not what you think I am, love, 'cause 'M not interested...Savvy?" The only thing he was interested in, was a drink, at least one more before he and his compass left. Beaming upon spotting such, it was with no remorse whatsoever he'd procure such from a neighbouring table along with a small purse of coin, displeased as its heavily snoring occupant may be upon waking. A hearty swig as he tucked such into his pocket, somewhat weary of the fact she stood there still. Petulantly, he was rather inclined to believe she hadn't seen a thing and subsequently had not seen the theft at hand. "-'M also incredibly broke..."

(Oh Jack...Bah, sorry Bamon I feel these posts are utterly awful but I'll stop asking if they're okay ^^; I'll get over posting fears soon enough. I'm irritated, the first posts were much better, but then they got eaten and I can't remember word-for-word what I originally typed. I just know its not the same. e,e *squint*)

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Name: William Turner | Mentions: Elizabeth Swann

It had been a long night, William couldn't even tell how much time had passed since he had entered the blasted pub. How many drinks did he down? Two? Three? Maybe even four? However many he drank, he couldn't tell anymore. His vision was blurred over slightly almost as if he were whacked upside the head. Speaking of his head, his thoughts were all jumbled, and a dull pain resided at the sides. Having spent who knows how long at the pub he decided to start heading home, and after paying the bartender for whatever he owed he stood up and wobbled slightly to the door.

Silent curses ran past his lips, turned mostly at himself for being such a fool and coming here in the first place. Will wasn't that drunk, but still, it numbed his rational thought process- and the bloody headache that had started made him curse his own existence. As soon as he managed to slowly walk out of the pub without looking like a drunken fool of a man, he shook his head, attempting to clear his vision. His brown eyes started to focus on his surroundings again, but at the cost of a worsening pain in his head. He started off again, praying that Elizabeth was still asleep when he got back, he didn't want her to know that he had broken so easily. He didn't want her to know that he indeed had been out drinking. With all the recent nightmares, he needed a way to escape, and drinking didn't seem all that bad. Well, bad in the standards that Will was most definitely not a drinker.

William managed to get most of the way back, but he lost his footing somewhere along the lines and stumbled to catch himself. Despite his fumbling in trying to catch himself, he still hit the ground, though it wasn't as hard of a landing. He managed to pull himself up to his knees before collapsing backwards. With a huff of defeat he merely shifted out of the path that everyone was walking, and he leaned up against a deserted stack of crates. Surely no one would mind if he just closed his eyes and waited for this all to pass. Or maybe he would wake up back in bed, and this would just be a dream of how idiotic he could be. He highly doubted the last one, but still, his mind was tired now, and all he wanted to do was rest, whilst also hoping he didn't have another nightmare in the process.

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Tevinter|Mentions: Jack Sparrow

Hearing a bit of a ruckus, the ghostly siren scooted up enough to be able to tell what was going on. She spotted the handsome man she silently doted on for a long time. A stupid smile grew on her face as she hoisted herself up farther into view, hoping he was too drunk to notice her on the lantern-lit rock. Her eyes got dreamy as she thought of how he was one of her favorite pirates of Tortuga.

Her thoughts were rattled by a large ship with the name of "The Flying Dutchman" slither into the port. But no one got off, it just sat there. But she dismissed it, knowing little about the ship itself. Her thoughts went back to remembering that she was a siren, he was a man, and he had a daughter he probably didn't know about.

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Name: Elizabeth Swann | Mentions: William Turner

The wooden headboard of the bed was probably the least comfortable place Elizabeth could have chosen to rest her head against. She tried her hardest to feel drowsy or to calm herself down, neither of them working as she would have liked. William was a responsible man, another reason why she had fallen hopelessly in love with him. It bothered her that she couldn’t let go and just sleep. Yes, perhaps he could have warned her he was going out but it wasn’t that much of a necessity. It could have been an emergency. With a groan louder than anticipated, Elizabeth jumped from the bed. Her temper was beginning to flare, more so at herself than her absent husband.

Elizabeth pulled on one of Will’s jackets instead of her own. This was to be a short trip. She’d check the pub for Will and if he wasn’t there, so be it. She pulled on some of her own shoes and didn’t dare check her hair .Elizabeth slipped a piston into her left boot, it sat snug against her ankle. She left the bedroom without caring enough to even attempt to be quiet. Passing through the front door, Elizabeth yet again noticed the eery silence. It was dark but the moon provided enough light for her to see. Besides, her eyes were well adjusted from sitting in the dark for a good hour or so. She stomped along the path determinedly. Had it been a few years ago, she would have been scared stiff to be walking alone at an hour like this. Now, especially with her pistol discreetly in her boot; she had the confidence of a drunken man.

The pub seemed a further walking distance than Elizabeth had first imagined. She had only been walking five minutes or so when the cold night’s air began to affect her. To her distaste, many men had come up behind her and attempted to initiate a chat. One look at the pistol she pulled from her boot with ease and they backed away. Elizabeth was almost ready to turn around and go home when some poor soul passed out caught her eye. She almost felt sorry for him, served him right for getting pissed dru- She recognised his face way too late to take back the things she’d thought about him.

“Will- William!” Elizabeth screeched. Now that she neared, his face was incredibly clear. She crouched by him, the smell of ale seemed to hang around him. “Oh Will, what happened?” She whispered, unlikely that he would wake and hear.

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Name: William Turner |Mentions: Elizabeth Swann

The world around him was loud, and filled with a bunch of mumbling. There was one thing that stood out about these mumbling's. It sounded so familiar. Almost as if Elizabeth were calling out to him. Maybe it was his subconscious mind? No. That didn't make sense. He had to force his eyes open to see for himself, and though it was a slow process, he managed. William immediately recognized the face of his wife, and he felt a deep regret starting to form in his gut.

"Elizabeth...?" He breathed out in question. It was nothing more than a groggy whisper as he tried to hold his head up in an attempt to stay awake and not pass out again. His eyes wandered, before closing again as he leaned his head back against the crates. All the thoughts going through his head, most of them consisting of an apology that she had to find him like this. "I'm so... sorry." He mumbled out, his words partially slurred.

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Name: Georgiana Sparrow - Mentions: Jack Sparrow
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One might have thought Georgie would have been underwhelmed or disappointed in the reaction and behaviour of Jack Sparrow. Fortunately she was neither of those things. She had been persistant in trying to get information on Jack and from what she'd found he either had a severe inner ear problem or he was drunk a lot of the time. Whilst she would have preferred the former she knew realistically it would be the latter so she didn't take any offense to the state she found her father in. What did confuse her was when he called her a Horologist. She wasn't sure what that was and she was pretty sure he didn't really know what it was either but she had a feeling what he was assuming it meant. It was almost amusing really how he thought she, despite her attire and body figure, could be a lady of the night especially since she had just called him 'Daddy'. Had he met women who liked calling their lovers that? Had he been with women that liked calling him that when he was with them? It was wierd to think about and made her scrunch her nose in distaste before moving on as she joined Jack.

"Look, I'm not a lady of the night and especially not dressed like this. I was raised by Estrella who works in Governor Swann's household. She was Miss Elizabeth Swann's maid. In the past you spent a night with a friend of Estrella's, whom Estrella has told me is dead and so I saw no further need in enquiring further into who my mother was, but Estrella did tell me about you. Well, the few bits she did know about you. You are my father. I am your daughter. I've spent every waking moment since I could understand who you were finding more information about you. I disgused myself as a man to get onto boats to find you without being forced into a role of a unwilling bedwarmer or thrown off the boat. When I finally found out that your ship, the Black Pearl, would most likely make port here in Tortuga I made my way here and I've been scrubbing lavatories in the taverns to make some coin so I could stick around until you turned up."

Georgie explained, doing her best to keep her words and explanation simple so he could understand in his drunken state. She noticed the way he'd stolen the drink and coin from some bystander but decided to ignore it. He was a pirate. She had no disillusions over what he'd done or would do. Besides if someone was as stupid to not be alert on an island infamous for pirates and other such lowlife then surely it was their own fault. Of course there was also the fact she'd spent so long looking for her father so she could finally belong and have family that she'd probably overlook and rationalise almost anything when it came to him.

"I came looking for you because I want to know you. I want to be with my father. I've heard so much about you. You've saved the world so many times and I just... I just want a family. I heard you have a father still around too. I'd love to meet my grandad as well. Please, let me stay with you. I'll do anything."

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OOC: Don't worry about it honey, it was an awesome reply. Hopefully mine is alright. :) Got to go to work now, bye!

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Name: Elizabeth Swann | Mentions: William Turner

Elizabeth didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. It surely was strange to see her husband like this. She hated that it reminded her of the time he practically died and became cursed to captain the Flying Dutchman. This time, William wasn’t dying but slipping in and out of consciousness.

Kneeling down beside him on bare knees, she tried to keep Will’s head from rolling to the side. Her own heart was pounding; how the hell was she meant to get him home all by herself? Staying out here by themselves didn’t sound ideal either but she wasn’t going to leave him anytime soon.
“Yes, it’s Elizabeth. Your wife. Remember me?” Elizabeth’s voice dripped with unintentionally unkind sarcasm. She raised an eyebrow at him, unsure what he was grasping from what she said. His apology seemed to soften her tough demeanour. She brushed his cheekbone with her thumb gently, “It’s okay. We just need to get you home.” Elizabeth despised the sappiness she could hear in her own voice but it was no use being mean to Will, especially not with him in a state such as this.

“Will, you’re going to need to stand up.” Elizabeth said as encouragingly as she could. The thought of Will obviously pissed drunk leaning on her wasn’t exactly what she would have liked but she wasn’t seeing any other options. The glint of determination shone in her eye like it hadn’t in years. “You can lean on me, if you need to. You’ve obviously been at the pub and you’ve walked this far, you can make it home.”

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Laumalie | Indirectly : Sparrow, Sparrow, Tevinter, Serysa

She followed the other mermaid, tail flicking back and forth to keep her head above the water. Seeing as it was nighttime, staying on the surface was no longer a problem for her. Form here, she could see drunken men fighting, leering at the women, singing songs, or puking their guts up. Swimming around to the other side of the island, she could hear voices and see Tevinter. Laumalie came up quietly behind her, so as not to disturb the other mermaid, and directed her gaze to where Tevinter was looking with a dreamy expression on her face. She could make out two figures, one of whom was clearly drunk. Laumalie peered closer- it was Sparrow and a girl. The mermiid strained her ears. A conversation was definitely active, and right now it seemed to be the girl doing most of the talking.

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OCC: T'was indeed, already loving Georgina overall, she's adorable. Have a good day~
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Name: Jack Sparrow | Mentions: Georgina Sparrow

Having initially begun to choke upon his rum at what explanation was received, so much so as a matter of fact that the hand formerly occupied in holding what bottle now rolled about the floor, rather harshly thumped his chest in an effort to breathe air once again. Spluttering vaguely, upon taking the consideration to have actually looked at her, he could offer no more than an awkward and rather brief grin. As one may find themselves grinning at a particularly uncomfortable situation, such was scarcely a grin as it was instead a grimace, be it at her words or an oncoming headache.

Children. Nasty, foul, beastly little things of which he swore he'd have none. Pirates didn't make for good parents, his father and this father before him had proved it well enough in his own less-than-professional opinion. Hector Barbossa had had it considerably easier, his daughter had received the necessary things in life, had been prepared, hell. He had knew of her...But to Jack's knowledge, what words were spoken did not necessarily ring true, for though he had indeed spent the night beside someone in the Governor's household? It certainly hadn't been the maid. As a matter of fact, if not for those ill-chosen words exactly, he'd've been happy to accept that she was just the result of a careless night with someone he would never-again see. Just some pretty face, a lady of the night whose name he could not recall.

Clearly however? Such was not the case. Indeed he hadn't known Estrella, but he had known Elizabeth, many'a'complex and vaguely uneasy afterthought upon his features as he now processed what this meant, rather of the opinion that instead of opting to forget their mistake? The stupid woman had sent her his way and left him to deal with such through the mouth of a maid, a job he thus far wasn't doing too well...Because he had yet to speak. He couldn't, he simply didn't know what was to be done, already more than a little sure the title that belonged to his father did not belong to him. He didn't want that, he wanted his freedom, and for past affairs to very well stay there. Nothing was supposed to have come from such a night of regret, after all, it went unspoken that such had been a bad idea, good as it might've seemed at the time.

What apologetic half grin announced he had returned from drifting thought was short lived, the mixture of loss, awkwardness and panic he would never admit to concealed from his apparent Daughter as he managed little in the ways of...Well, words. Speech in general, actually. "'S lot to take in, that is..." Came his somewhat defeated murmur, able to do no more than chuckle at the lunacy of it all. "Maybe it's just the rum..." A hopeless and rather wistful glance towards the bottle upon the floor, though he'd rather lost his appetite, considerably more sobered now than he had been upon first entering the pub, he was inclined to recoil at earlier words and what she had initially called him in the first place.

A sigh, now reluctantly addressing Georgina and his own mistakes all at once, it appeared, though snorted somewhat disbelievingly upon noting she had already seated herself. An inaudible murmur, something sarcastic and flat along the lines of 'No, please, take a seat' coughed into his sleeve before he had the grace to appear interested. You couldn't run away from everything, try as he might. "-What would Mother make of that? She never really liked me, you know, I don't think she'd ah...'Approve' of that, and what have you, Mother's usually don't..." 'I don't even think she'd be happy you've gone and bloody found me, even if she put you up to it', came the afterthought.

Indeed he thought of Elizabeth and how, spend the night together as they had, he was no replacement for one William Turner. Sometimes he could have swore that she was repulsed by him, then again, most often could be. So Jack minded not.

If she persisted as she did, he'd've done no more than shrug, the warning in itself perhaps already confirmation of the fact she could. "-Nobody knows. Nobody can know, savvy?" A vaguely disgruntled scrunch of his features as he recalled one particular fact, "-Nor may you call me....That word, the one you said, whatever it was, or any others in any way like it. Jack's good enough...Jones knows where ol' Teague is these days, haven't seen 'm in some time..." Referring to his father as such to her seemed odd, especially because he had recently informed she could not do the same with her.

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Name: Serysa | Mentions: The Mermaid gathering in Tortuga (mainly), Sparrows (indirectly)

Having eventually drifted towards shallower waters upon taking eventual note the 'Pearl had moved not, it unsettled Serysa that others had been drawn to the shores or Tortuga for reasons beyond her knowledge, though she asked nor addressed them not. Instead opting to remain below the waters as others took to the vantage of the rocks, though much like them? Her attention was too to soon focus upon the voices. Unlike the latter of the gathering, however? She seemed to realise she had no plausible way of reaching the pair of Sparrows, and thus turned upon them with an ill-disguised venom. "What reason have you to gather at the Port the men declare Tortuga?"

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(OCC: Note, I've managed to figure out how to keep myself logged in, if I don't respond within three hours at the latest, I'm not actually online. Just got back from the hospital, as it happens.)

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