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seiberwingI'm doubling up to make up for lost time, using old stuff on my hard drive.
Title: Heart of the Ocean
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.
Characters: Tia Dalma and that one person you see at the end of the movie. I'm not telling you because that would be spoilery.
“You eat so many of dem apples, you’ll be turning into an apple y’self,” Tia Dalma commented dryly as she busied herself with cleaning up the scattered crab claws. “And den I’ll be having you for dinner.”
Barbossa lounged against the doorframe with a green apple in one hand, juice dripping down his chin and soaking into his beard. His tongue flicked out over his lips to catch the droplets. “There be worse ways to die then by the mouth of a beautiful woman.”
Barbossa mentioned his host’s attractiveness quite often, but he never sought to act on it. Aside from the debt he owed her for bringing him back from the underworld, there was something about the woman that seemed to say ‘there is power here that you do not want to disturb’. After the cursed gold and a glimpse of hell, he knew better than to anger powers beyond mortal control.
“So how is it that ye know so much about Davy Jones?” He took another bite of the apple, watching Jack hop about in the rafters of the house. “Ye spoke of him as if you’d met him before.”
“I have.” Tia Dalma’s eyes grew a bit distant, the way they did when she was seeing the lines of fate itself.
She remembered a man in a sea-soaked greatcoat, dripping salt water on her clean floor from both his clothes and his eyes. His features were those of the sea itself; his heart that of every man who feels the pain of unrequited love.
“What was he like?” Barbossa asked in a soft voice. “They say he breathes flames from his nostrils and has a forked tail like the Devil himself.”
She’d seen strange beings in her time on Earth, but Davy Jones had certainly been one of the oddest. He had held his head in one slimy hand as he sat at her table, the crab claw that served for his other hand lying dead against his leg. He’d shaken his head as Tia Dalma offered him a tin mug, but relented when she firmly grabbed one of his tentacles and wrapped it around the handle.
“He had blue eyes,” Tia Dalma said finally. Barbossa seemed about to ask for more, then stopped. He knew the beginning of a good story when he heard it, and wasn’t about to interrupt.
“I tell him that I don’t do love potions,” she continued. “And he say, ‘No, what I want is de reverse. To take de love and de sorrow away.”
Saltwater tears had slipped down his face as he explained, describing his love in the most flowerly and sentimental of terms. Tia Dalma had wavered between pity and disgust at his attachment to a woman who cared so little for him.
“Then you were the one that set him up for such a strange fate?” Barbossa asked, looking curiously at her. Tia Dalma had the disquieting feeling that he, a pirate and a killer, was somehow judging her.
“He paid me in silver," she said, avoiding his gaze. "For payment, I give him what he ask for.”
It was a locket on a chain, one that played music when she opened it without aid of spirits or wind. He’d called her the only woman to show him kindness, and the one most deserving of the gift his true love had scorned.
“Men like Davy Jones do not come from b’tween the thighs of mortal women.” She shook a finger at Barbossa. “He was a man of the sea, not on the sea. Him mother, she was the great sea herself. And he loved with de intensity of de sea.”
Barbossa gave her a blank stare and took another bite from his apple. “Coming from anyone but you, I’d say you were speaking metaphorically.”
Title: Heart of the Ocean
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.
Characters: Tia Dalma and that one person you see at the end of the movie. I'm not telling you because that would be spoilery.
“You eat so many of dem apples, you’ll be turning into an apple y’self,” Tia Dalma commented dryly as she busied herself with cleaning up the scattered crab claws. “And den I’ll be having you for dinner.”
Barbossa lounged against the doorframe with a green apple in one hand, juice dripping down his chin and soaking into his beard. His tongue flicked out over his lips to catch the droplets. “There be worse ways to die then by the mouth of a beautiful woman.”
Barbossa mentioned his host’s attractiveness quite often, but he never sought to act on it. Aside from the debt he owed her for bringing him back from the underworld, there was something about the woman that seemed to say ‘there is power here that you do not want to disturb’. After the cursed gold and a glimpse of hell, he knew better than to anger powers beyond mortal control.
“So how is it that ye know so much about Davy Jones?” He took another bite of the apple, watching Jack hop about in the rafters of the house. “Ye spoke of him as if you’d met him before.”
“I have.” Tia Dalma’s eyes grew a bit distant, the way they did when she was seeing the lines of fate itself.
She remembered a man in a sea-soaked greatcoat, dripping salt water on her clean floor from both his clothes and his eyes. His features were those of the sea itself; his heart that of every man who feels the pain of unrequited love.
“What was he like?” Barbossa asked in a soft voice. “They say he breathes flames from his nostrils and has a forked tail like the Devil himself.”
She’d seen strange beings in her time on Earth, but Davy Jones had certainly been one of the oddest. He had held his head in one slimy hand as he sat at her table, the crab claw that served for his other hand lying dead against his leg. He’d shaken his head as Tia Dalma offered him a tin mug, but relented when she firmly grabbed one of his tentacles and wrapped it around the handle.
“He had blue eyes,” Tia Dalma said finally. Barbossa seemed about to ask for more, then stopped. He knew the beginning of a good story when he heard it, and wasn’t about to interrupt.
“I tell him that I don’t do love potions,” she continued. “And he say, ‘No, what I want is de reverse. To take de love and de sorrow away.”
Saltwater tears had slipped down his face as he explained, describing his love in the most flowerly and sentimental of terms. Tia Dalma had wavered between pity and disgust at his attachment to a woman who cared so little for him.
“Then you were the one that set him up for such a strange fate?” Barbossa asked, looking curiously at her. Tia Dalma had the disquieting feeling that he, a pirate and a killer, was somehow judging her.
“He paid me in silver," she said, avoiding his gaze. "For payment, I give him what he ask for.”
It was a locket on a chain, one that played music when she opened it without aid of spirits or wind. He’d called her the only woman to show him kindness, and the one most deserving of the gift his true love had scorned.
“Men like Davy Jones do not come from b’tween the thighs of mortal women.” She shook a finger at Barbossa. “He was a man of the sea, not on the sea. Him mother, she was the great sea herself. And he loved with de intensity of de sea.”
Barbossa gave her a blank stare and took another bite from his apple. “Coming from anyone but you, I’d say you were speaking metaphorically.”
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-10 04:55 am (UTC)Very nice work on how she got the locket, and on what she thinks of Davy Jones.
Suggestion: Will and the sea.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-10 04:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-11 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-12 05:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-12 05:29 am (UTC)