~*Spread Wings*~

[Lana]

“… The setting sun, coloured in shadows of deep and dark red, like a juicy pomegranate, is almost drowning in the calm, serene waters of the evening ocean, its last warm sunrays reflecting on the gleaming surface of the waves, giving them a light tint of gold and ruby… The ocean is quiet and peaceful, as are the skies above, that are not crystal blue for a change, but closer to gently purple… coloured like that by the magnificent sunset.

I look ahead, at the fabulously beautiful sun that is now half-hidden by the horizon that seems to have risen. I smile softly, peaceful like the ocean around me, and stroke the spokes of the dark wooden wheel, blackened by innumerate storms and fights that this ship has endured. I don’t have to steer, ‘cause there’s almost no wind, and, moreover, this ship doesn’t need steering. Just a slight guiding, nothing more than that… She seems to know by herself where she is sailing, she is the part of the ocean, not alien to it, no, not in the slightest. She is gliding along the waves gracefully, quietly, neither feeling nor facing any resistance. She’s the part of the ocean and she’s the most marvelous ship one could see in their entire life.

“What a beauty”, - I whisper, while a soft smile is lingering on my lips. – “What a true beauty…” - I tell no one in particular. Maybe, talking to her, to the wonderful ship that I am guiding, maybe just to myself.

“Jest thought I’d inform ye… there’s one more true beauty ‘ere. And that be ye”, - a voice whispers in my ear. I laugh quietly and say nothing, looking ahead, enjoying the peace… the happiness. But suddenly I feel a strong yet gentle arm slipping around my waist, making me turn around and lean against the wheel with my back, while I am once again getting lost in the most beautiful man’s eyes… bottomless, deep, dark-chocolate eyes... they’re so easy to get lost in. And I always do, always… and always with pleasure.

“I… we will get off course”, - I try to protest, but it’s more of a game than of a real protest.
“There’s only one course that I am eager ter follow t’night”, - the eyes twinkle with amusement, and a mischievous smirk comes to Jack’s features, the smirk of a pirate, of a scallywag… of the man I love with all my heart. – “And the destination is actually… the Captain’s Quarters, more precisely, the bed”, - he traces his finger across my cheek gently and brushes a teasing, hot kiss against my lips. I giggle and kiss him back but…

… everything starts to dissolve. My eyes widen with horror, I gasp and turn to the wheel, grasping it tight, but the wood is ageing, right in front of my eyes, it’s getting older and older… and in a moment all I am clutching in my palms is the grey ash. Trembling all over, I glance around the ship. The black sails are getting torn; as if an invisible sharp cutlass were cutting them… the Pearl is fading away! I cling to Jack, panicking and desperate, scared to death, but… he’s becoming paler and paler… fading away… until he vanishes into thin air… and everything around me does.

”No… don’t go… Don’t… DON’T GO!!! Please… stay with me… stay with me!!! I beg you… stay… don’t go!.. I’ll do everything… DON’T GO!!! I beg you… Don’t… not this time… not again… please…”

“Please… please… come back… come back to me!!! Don’t leave me again…” – I plead, tears streaming down my cheeks, my heart beating fast.

“Miss Olivia? Miss Olivia?”
“What? Wh-” – I gasp and open my eyes sharply, focusing to see a young maid of twenty, who’s just woken me up, obviously worried and almost scared. I try to come back to reality fully, gather my thoughts and shake the remains of the sleep off. “Oh…” – I mutter and feel that my face is all wet, as is my pillow. I frown slightly and wipe the tears off my face hastily with a sleeve of my night-gown, ashamed of them and ashamed of having shown them to a servant.
“Oh, Miss, don’t do that! It will harm your skin! Leave it to me, I promise, you will look as wonderful as always!” – the girl flutters like a bird, quickly, in agitation.
I just nod, saying nothing.
“Miss…” – the maid bites her lip slightly, glancing at me with somewhat like confusion. – “Miss…” – she repeats, obviously unsure of whether she should continue or not.
“Come on”, - I urge her. – “Tell me what you’ve got to say”, - I try to smile, but don’t succeed, ‘cause smiling would be the last thing I would want to do now.…
“Maybe… we should call Doctor Dawson?” – she asks, embarrassed of her own boldness.
I shake my head slowly “No, there’s no need, dear…”
“But you’ve been crying in your sleep again! Miss Olivia, please, let me call him!”
“No”, - I repeat more firmly, but with a small bitter smile. – “He is a good man, and a good doctor, but he will only say ‘Miss Havilland, live for yourself, you need positive emotions’. Like always, the same advice”, - I shrug. – “He doesn’t know that all emotions I have are good and that I have no grief what-so-ever”.
“But Miss… you’re crying in your sleep again… and you always say the same words! It’s not the first time!”
A cold shudder goes down my spine as I remember the dream and the words… almost always the same, though I never understand it till the world around me is fading, fading away and finally dissolving into this painful nothing. I bite my lip, as an old and bad habit – something I would always do when I was worried or emotionally shaken – but now I quickly realize that I can’t. I can’t let a hundred people see me with a swollen lip, I can’t let anyone see my tears, I can’t smile sincerely at anyone… This is not my world, even though I look so organic in it. This is not my world… anymore.
The girl mistakes my silence for quiet anger, and I see her tremble. “Don’t”, - I say curtly. – “I am going to get up, darling”, - I tell her, and she smiles slightly, seeing that she hasn’t lost her position and that I am not angry with her. – “Get everything ready, I’ll spend some more time enjoying the rest”, - I dismiss her with a soft fake smile on my face, and she retreats.

As soon as she closes the door, leaving me alone, I fall onto the pillows, clapping my hands over my eyes, taking a few deep breathes and trying to calm down. The same dream… so often. The dream that is always making me feel like a wreck when I wake up. The dream that is always making me wish I were dead. Or dissolved, like the paradise around me is dissolving almost every morning when I have to wake up. The paradise, peace, happiness of the dreams face the pretence, emptiness of the day… when I have to go on, when I have to remind myself again and again, that this time I am living for myself.

I stand up from the bed and sit down on a stool in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection, though I don’t see myself. I don’t see myself, because it’s impossible. I am dead. Scarlett O’Hara – the fierce, passionate, high-spirited, emotional pirate-lady who lived according to her heart and not to her mind, changing like wind, unpredictable – is dead. She died. Long ago.
The widow of the rich Count, one of the most famous beauties of the County, the woman with the most beaux… Olivia Margarita Havilland. A new name – a new life. Everything that could remind me of myself has been wiped off, erased, cleared, cut off… Cut off. With my real life. With my real self. With my dreams, hopes, happiness, love – everything was killed.

No more a young girl, though still an eye-catching, attractive woman that I see in the mirror is just a shell, a shell with no heart or soul… Her soul died with her dream, her heart failed to be returned by the thief who had dared to steal it. I stare into my eyes… as green as ever, but the flames that used to burn there are extinguished, there’s no flame, no passion. There is just a necessity to go on. The blind determination to keep living. For nothing, not waiting for another day to come, not looking forward to an adventure. There can be no adventures in the life that is so planned-out, that is so haughty and ‘fancy’. There’s no place for feelings in this cage… Though, I don’t need freedom anymore. I am living in the cage, and I can’t soar high even if the cage is opened – I have no wings. Anymore.

I suppress a sigh and glance around the apartment. I have everything one could dream of – a lot of money left from my ‘suddenly’-deceased husband, a magnificent mansion, servants, beauty… and yet it’s just a substitute for a life. I could have enjoyed this existence if I had never seen *life*. But I lived. And it makes it almost unbearable to remember. I hoped to forget, I needed to go on, I tried to kill my memories… and myself.

Instinctively, I glance at my left wrist, my face emotionless… A white, thin scar… Shaped like an “S” … the unfortunate attempt to replace my lost paradise with death and oblivion. The unfortunate attempt of a lost girl, having nothing to keep living for. Why was I saved back then?.. Why was the profuse bleeding arrested?.. Why was I brought back to life while I wished so fervently to be dead?..

[flashback]
I lick my dry lips and open my eyes, trying to focus on something… but there’s just blackness… blackness and nothingness. I wish I were dead, but I know I am alive, I know I am breathing, and the heart is still beating, even though the S-shaped scar did its job, and I lost almost half of my blood… whoever saved me, whoever prevented me from leaving this world forever, made a mistake. If I were strong enough to move, I would take the dagger and repeat the attempt… but I am too weak even to stay conscious… everything swims in front of my eyes, the world is blurry, dark, the noises are muffled… and my consciousness slips away again.

*days later*

“I hate myself… For letting him ruin my life, for growing so dependent on someone who was nothing but a man, for being unable to live without him, for becoming his shadow instead of being myself! Almost killed myself because of someone who chose another path in his life! No one – I am no one, I have never set goals, I have never achieved them. I let myself be led by him, and when he cut the string that was connecting us, I got lost. And almost killed myself! Oh how I hate myself for this weakness… No, I will go on, I won’t die. I will go on, I will get everything I want to! I will have everything most women dream of! I will have everything… I swear, I will never be weak again! I will never be desperate again!” – I mutter, my teeth gritted. A vow to myself. A firm decision to keep on going. I am not that weak – I won’t die just yet.
[end of flashback]

And I went on… God knows how I scrambled through the obstacles, how I lived, how I achieved everything I have now. But at first I had to kill myself. To get rid of the ballast: memories, pain, and love... And I got rid of myself. A made-up name, a made-up background, a made-up personality. New people, new acquaintances, new town… slowly, forced to remember my life in the high-classes of the society, I rose to these high-classes. Married a rich Count – who was killed in a duel – acquired all of his possessions… but it was not longer than a year ago. What had been before that – is worth forgetting forever.

A knock on the door makes me snap out of my thoughts and memories… even though I have been trying so hard to let everything go, to forget everything – it seems impossible. I dream about it, I remember it, and the past still makes me cry at night. And despise myself for the weakness when I wake up.

“Come in”, - I say, and the maid returns. Time for the morning-ritual… so useless, so stupid, but necessary. Living in this world, I have to bend to its rules now. They are not guidelines. Anymore.
“You have four invitations for parties, Miss Olivia”, - the girl takes out the beautifully coloured postcards, and another servant enters with large, luxurious bouquets of fabulous flowers. – “And these are from the gentlemen, they have postcards inside”.

I have to go on. I swore. No matter how artificial this life is, no matter how fake my smiles are, no matter how little the kisses mean for me… this is my life now. And I will live.

I will smile, I will dance, I will laugh and get the flowers. I will throw magnificent parties, I will be the center of attention, I will be spoken about, sent love-cards from numerous beaux… I will go on.

The show must go on.

Scarlett O’Hara would hate this life… but she died. Almost ten years ago.

[Jacky]

Ten years ago, it is. Ten years ago that I left behind the little that I had left at the time, in order to chase after a distant dream. Scarlett, Faith even… neither of them could keep me away from what I considered, and still consider, to be my first love. The Pearl… aye, for ten years I sacrificed, kept my eyes fixed on me goal and stayed true to me quest even when the whole world around me would crumble. Nothing could keep me away from me ship, not even something I dared to call love.

"Love? As far as I'm concerned, love ain't been naught but ignorance of a lad who was bold enough to think he'd seen it all." My words, once. And aye, that's what I labeled the time that I was blinded by love. Blinded by a girl worth loving, I suppose. I'm not sure whether I meant it back then. I'm not sure I could say it again to this very day. A long time has passed.. who am I to judge over the past that seems so distant now?

I chose a ship over love, or whatever you want to name it. And during these ten years I often doubted whether it was worth it. Whether I’d ever find her again. But at doubtful times like those I told myself not to give up. Not to let Barbossa have the best of me. Hell no, I’d find ‘the Black Pearl’, or die trying. I couldn’t leave her in the hands of a man who’s unaware of how to treat a beauty as herself… and so I took her back. After ten long years.

Days like these though, prove that it was all worth it. I woke up early today, even before the morning watch started, and I went updecks barefooted. The night watch was all half-asleep, so for a moment I felt the peace of the Pearl and me alone. A ship and her captain. Two souls entwined. I watched the sun rise above the horizon, with one hand steadily on the wheel and the ocean breeze gently urging us through the water. Aye… without doubt, it was all worth it.

All of it. Tis a long story, really. Too long to be told in a night of tavern visits, as I often came to experience. Too long to tell a lass to impress her, too unbelievable to tell a lad who asked me whether ‘the stories were true’. And more than anything, it’s too complicated to tell the friends that are actually close to you. And some parts are too dark. Or too personal. Ten years have passed, and in these years I’ve seen every corner of the world. I’ve mingled with the royalties, the tramps of the street, the ladies of high status and the gipsies and thieves of society. I’ve been in charge of ships ('The Nixtaux', may she rest in peace, 'the Liberty', wherever she may be now) and I have followed orders as well. I’ve seen jails inside and out, and have felt the edgy end of the whip of ‘our Royal King’ more than once. I’ve spend days in richness and wealth, to be in the dumps without a penny the very day after that. Aye… by now I’d say I’ve seen a bit of all. And I learned a few important lessons in life. It might’ve been a bitter lesson, every now and then, but it was a lesson worth learning. I know that there’s just two rules that matters, what a man can do, and what a man can’t. I know you can’t expect anyone to do any more than what’s right by them. I know that at times… at the craziest times… the son of an old friend might just safe you from the noose. And that keeping your balance on a slippery blade is most definitely an underestimated trick.

Experiences. Experiences that were scarred in my soul, pleasant as they were, or tormented as I might be with them. Each one made me what I am today. The Captain of the Black Pearl again. And that's why I don’t regret a thing.

No regrets, then. What would there be to be regretted? I have it all now, don’t I? I have me ship, a loyal crew and the ocean at my feet. I have the sun, soaring high above me in the sky, and I have Lady Luck on me side again. What more could a pirate possibly ask for?

Well… it was that question that send me on me next quest. Cos true enough, I’d do it all again if I had the chance. But there’s something of the past that had kept me occupied lately. After I got the Pearl, in fact. A memory, that was somewhat suppressed in me mind for a long time. But it came back intensely one night, when I was musing over all I had won... and the one thing I had lost throughout the years. A girl, that's what the memory was. A girl with a beautiful smile, who I had left to pursuit me dreams. And somehow, after that night, she kept haunting my mind more frequently. Even me crew had noticed at one point. Gibbs had asked me where me mind was at, and I had told him that was none of his concern. But as days passed I figured that it *was* their concern. I could be distant-minded for hours, which didn’t improve quickly. And I was fed up with wondering, soon enough.

I decided to find her. Not to take her back (well, perhaps to consider it), but at least to set things straight. And just to see how she was doing. It wouldn’t be much of a change of plans, anyways. On our way there I was sure to pilfer and plunder plenty, as well on the seas as in the ports. Aye, the Pearl would find her way to Scarlett O'Hara handsomely, I was sure of that. It was part of the reason we had gained such fame - the constant plundering (but always with a sense of what's 'right' by me, and a touch of humor on the side). That was our fame, that, and the history that she and I carried with us. Throughout the world the ‘Black Pearl’ is known these days. And I was glad to take her to another patch of world again – this time with a goal in front of me eyes as clearly as the beads in me hair.

I explained the crew that it was no more that unfinished business. I told them I didn’t like to end things indecently, which was exactly what I did with this lass. I told ‘em we’d be making a little trip to the port where she left, but it would mean no stop of our lifestyle. After all, as I told ‘em… I was Captain Jack Sparrow.

Aye, and I am. I won’t forget that either. This girl, Scarlett O’Hara (though I came to understand she doesn’t go by her birth name anymore these days), will change nothing about it. But curiosity can be stronger than a man, at times. And that’s why I have to visit her. Curiosity. That’s all.

We arrived in the port she lived in this morning, an hour after sunrise. I ordered the man to guide our ship not within the bay (I’d be d@mned! As far as I know pirates aren’t welcomed with open arms just anywhere, safe for Tortuga). We anchored the Pearl tactfully just outside the bay, invisible for the port to see and more importantly; invisible for ships coming in and sailing out. It was a sharp and smart place to anchor, surely. Within reach of the town, but without *knowledge* of the town.

After all the work is done aboard the ship (sails reefed, anchor dropped, men allowed to take a leave of their duties), I set my hat firmly onto me head. Time to investigate that town. Time to see what became of what once was 'me girl'.



Gibbs looks at Jack and scrapes his throat. “Capt’n..” He changes his mind and continues on a more informal tone, since they’re among the two of them anyways, “Jack. Mate, sure this is a right idea?”

“No more than curiosity, Gibbs. Never killed anyone.” I reply simply, checking whether my pistol is safely tugged into my belt as well.

”Aye, but curiosity killed the cat” Gibbs reminds him, always a fan of these matters of speach.

I give him a goldtooth grin, “And a cat could kill a Sparrow. Glad to know curiosity got ‘m first then, aye?” I tap my hat, then go over to the railing where two crewmembers lowered a longboat for me.

Time to meet the past again.

[Lana]

... Six o'clock in the evening, there's a bustle and incredible fuss in the mansion, as always when large parties are planned.

This evening - The Masquerade. Dozens of guests, fake smiles, fake words... as always.
Though this time our faces will be fake as well. As always.
And I won't have to force a smile.
My real face will be hidden behind a mask.
As always.

I enter the hall, greeting the guests 'warmly', accepting the compliments on my looks and passing my compliments to the vain lasses who are considering themselves to be my friends.

As always. Nothing ever changes, as if it were a planned movie, an episode after an episode, and nothing unexpected could ever happen.

[Jacky]

Tonight.. tonight might change it all though. Outside the mansion I'm standing in the garden, hidden by the shadows of the tall willow trees that are towering over my head. One of the crewmembers of the Pearl, a bucko called Vaugh wit' 's last name, is standing next to me.

"Did I mention this plan being absolutely mad yet?" He hisses.

"Aye mate." I tell him, "Now are ye comin' or not?" I ask, as I open the sacks I brougt. The party in the mansion is, according to the word on the streets, a Masquerade after all. I chuck Vaughs' 'costume' at him and then open the next bag.

"...Monks? We're dressing up like MONKS?"

"What's wrong with monks? Bloody jolly fellows, the lot of 'em. Drink lots of wine, blood of Christ and all." I grin at him and put on the robe I brought for myself, "At least it'll allow us t' keep our weapons close to hand, mate."

"If I'm getting killed tonight, I'll come back and haunt yer @ss, Sparrow." He grumbles, but he gets changed as well.

[Lana]

( whahahahhaha! ;D )

The Masquerade has begun, everything is shimmering, sparkling: gold necklaces of ladies, their rubies and emeralds... I squint my eyes slightly, feeling slightly dizzy, 'cause of the bright light and too much shining balderdash.
I would change all this expensive, fance world for a tiny bit of Freedom...
... it's too late.

I notice two more guests coming into the hall, dressed as Monks. I greet them with a courtsey and a small nod of my head, not having the slightest interest in who these men are... I don't care. About anything.

"You look absolutely stunning tonight, Mylady!" - a man smiles at me and takes my hand, brushing a kiss against my skin.
"You always say the same", - I answer him with a fake little smile.
"Because you always are the example of Perfection", - he tells me as a corny compliment, which I've heard so many that I stopped caring about them a long time ago.

Just one of my suitors who's trying to kill two rabbits with one shot: get all the money of my deceased husband and get a wife.

[Jacky]

I look at Scarlett from under my hood, and grin slightly at the sight of her. She's a sparklin' beauty, true enough.. just as I remember her. Though there is something about her that makes me take a second glance. Something that changed. Something I can't lay my finger on, just yet. But however, I don't intend to leave any time soon again, so I'm sure I'll get around it. For now the key is to mingle, and try not to attract too much attention because honestly.. taking one glance around tells me these people are not the usual acquaintances of a pirate such as meselves.

" Alrigh', mate, ye got us straight into the cave of the lion. Now wha'?"

I look aside to the bucko and smirk, "Don't be so tense, mate. Tis a party." I tell him, "Mingle." I order, and I leave him standing there to disappear among the rest of the guests. In search of a drink, some random chit-chat and possibly a rendez-vous with the lady of the house.

[Lana]

With the passing time I dance with different suitors, having no interest in any of them, 'cause I don't want to get myself into the cage of marriage-without-love again. I've had that already, thank you very much. I've had that twice: before I met Jack, when I still was a young and naive girl... and the second time after, to restore my life somehow, to built a new one.

Champagne, music, dancing... I've always loved that, since I was 15 years old and allowed to go to such parties... and even now, being so used to all this fancy-life, I still can't help smiling. I manage to like the life I lead. Sometimes. Sometimes I hate it, sometimes I really enjoy the feeling of... being powerful.

I am so different now... at least it seems to me that I am. Many people depend on me, on my money. And this feeling makes me smirk.

Having danced with almost all the present men, I come up to one of the "Monks", 'cause I have to greet him and exchange a few words with him - the rule of hospitality: every guest should feel comfortable and loved.

"Good evening, Father", - I smile.

[Jacky]

As she came up to me I was sure to hide myself deep within the hood of the robe; thank god for that hood (ironically enough). And eventhough I know she cannot see it, a ghost of a grin comes to my features as she talks to me. I've been watching her this night. Not too obviously, but rather closely noneless. How she danced with the men that undoubtedly urge her towards marriage, how she sipped her drinks and talked to the ladies. Aye, she's a beauty still.. but what striked me most is that the feeling in her eyes seems to have died out. And now that she's closer, that suspicion seems to be confirmed. No doubt her eyes are beautiful still.. but they lack the sparkle that I remember in them. Or perhaps that's just a euphemism of me memory? I doubt it though.

I nod as a reply to her greet, "Good evening indeed." I say, making sure not to slur or sound piratical.

[Lana]

( last post for today... and then - Good Night and thanks for RPing! ;D )

I smile at the Monk once more, but the sound of his voice rings a bell in my memory... I've heard this voice already. And surely, I have! All the guests are here not for the first time, I have known all of them for more than a year, so, surely, this voice sounds familiar. I just can't guess who exactly this man is, and therefore, I feel a bit awkward.

But isn't it what Masquerades are for?.. Pretence, fake faces... I sigh almost inaudibly and intend to have a short chit-chat with the Monk, according to these rules of hospitality.

"What a curious choice for a Masquerade", - I remark friendly. - "It is said that people intend to dress up as those who are exceptionally different from their real personalities. Like, for example, a poor paysant-girl always dresses up as a Princess, but Princess Levienne", - I nod at one woman, - " is dressed as a poor paysante", - I smile. - "So, according to your costume, I would be so bold as to assume you're a rogue... or a pirate... man who is far from righteousness".

I laugh: "But these are just speculations, aren't they?"

[Jacky]

(same to you! ;D )

I grin from underneath the hood, "You know, me dear.. if that 'speculation' is in fact true, it would certainly be interesting to use the same analysis on yourself, hm? With all due respect.. I did notice you are not masked. In fact, you're one of the few who are not dressed up at all." I pause and grin again.. a golden tooth twinkling from underneath the shadow of the hood for only a split second, "What would that tell us? Is it a mask your wearing now? Is there more underneath a pretty face?" And thoughtfully picking my words, I say what I once told her before.. so long ago. Probably too long for her to remember who said it, but unique enough to be remembered on the whole, "Someone once told me every devil that she met was an angel in disguise. Perhaps every angel that we meet has a bit of devil underneath the surface as well?"

There's another pause, and I spread my arms then, "But these are just speculations, aren't they?"