A Change In The Wind Says I

[jarofdirt]

[Time: Day One, Early Morning]
[Location: Tortuga (beach)]

Jack sat on the wide stretch of beach that made up the western coast of the island of Tortuga, one of the very few places within the pirate settlement that was fairly quiet and sparsely populated. The seemingly never-ending din of the perpetually drunken town could still be heard in the near distance, through a thicket of palms and over a series of dunes, where it came to mingle with the soft sound of the waves that lapped at the tips of his booted feet. To him, the calming thrum of the water was something he was so used to after a life at sea that it barely registered anymore. Only when he could not hear it did he think anything of it, and then he did not feel right, besides. Land was not his favorite thing to deal with. He was a pirate captain, after all.

Idly burying his hands in the cool sand he leaned back, watching as the rising sun steadily crested over the horizon. Its golden light cascaded over the ocean that rolled before him and he was momentarily blinded by its shimmering beauty. Blinking and squinting he tipped his bandanna-covered head down and looked to the frothy surf until his dark eyes grew accustomed to the breaking dawn. He then leveled his gaze back up, contemplating getting something to eat as his stomach rumbled startlingly loud. The previous night of revelry, drinking and sleeping on the beach had left him famished.

With a sigh and a final glance to the sea, Jack got to his feet while simultaneously lifting his tri-pointed hat from the ground, placing it atop his head with a long-praticed flourish of his hand. He then gathered up the coat he had laid upon and began to walk back to town, his boots slipping and sinking in the sands to make his signature walk even more unstable looking. Smiling slyly to himself, he wondered what sort of trouble he could stir up today.

[Lauren]

Bailey sat on a barrel outside the tavern. He'd seen the ship in the docks. How could he miss it? The Black Pearl, the fastest ship in the Caribbean. And it's Captain was hardly subtle. Even in this place, Jack Sparrow stuck out like a sore thumb. But Bailey was patient. He'd play it cool. He wasn't going to rush into anything and look like a fool infront of Sparrow. Tonight he'd prove his worth as a Pirate and as a man. So he waited for the Captain to walk his way, positive the Pirate Captain wouldn't be able to resist the call of the Tavern for too long. Bailey leaned back against the wall and took a swig from his bottle and flicked a coin in the air with his other hand, catching it, and tossing it up again, silently observing the town, silently watching out for one Jack Sparrow.

[Lisa]

The Caribbean sky was illuminated with different shades of blue, orange and purple, as the sun began to rise in the distance. A warm breeze blew threw Astorias short brown hair as she watched her crew scurry down the gang plank and she let out a long sigh before finally following. Indeed, most pirates loved Tortuga. Of course, she had thousands of reasons why she avoided and loathed the sleazy, two-bit port. It might have something to do with the fact that she was forced to call it home for the first fifteen years of her life -- Then again, it might just be because it was the same place her mother drank herself to death -- the same place she learned why she'd be anything but a whore for her whole life.. Or longer then one night for that matter. Pick your favorite. . . Whatever the reason was, she hated Tortuga.

She stood on the once familiar docks, taking everything in. Not to much has changed since she stowed away on her first and last costumers ship, dressed as a boy and learned all there was to know about life on a ship. The only thing that was different was the simple fact that it seemed more over ran with filth then it was nine years ago.

She made her way down the docks and into town. She hadn't had a drop of rum in three days because the crew had drank it all. . Of course she had her own private stash for when that happened, but she drank all that too. So Astoria made her way to a near by tavern, sat at the bar and ordered a mug of rum.

[Daz]

There was a sort of sharp glare in the morning sun that caught Cleo as she made her way through the back streets of Tortuga and into the vibrant centre. She pierced her eyes, frowning, trying to get back into the shade, where it was quite a lot easier to see ahead. She wasn't heading from the quarters of the city that one would automatically expect from a girl of her age. Well, not exactly anyway. This morning, as many before, she was headed to the sea front, to make trade with whoever came in, though after something a lot more educated than, as I repeat, the expected. Cleo dealt in charts, maps, antiques, and she acquired, traded with and gave reference to anyone willing to know about the unusual objects they had previously plundered and ransacked from the many stately homes across the Caribbean. And though to many it had come to a surprise, she had managed to prove herself to quite a few disbelievers, and found herself a perfectly legitimate trade in the deprived and sinful settlement that was the pirate’s haven.
Lost in thoughts, and with the hassle of the morning people-traffic in the streets, and the bright Caribbean sun, it was only in a matter of steps that she collided with a couple of people, tripping, but to no disturbance to the others, she fell to her knees;
“Wonderful.” She concluded, dusting off the dirt from her knees, which were covered by a once navy, now pale blue skirt, which had seen it’s fair share of events such as these.
Cleo wasn’t a silly girl, but she seemed to be rather good at getting herself into clumsy situations. It was her one downfall. She could stand up for herself, she had a good attitude to her, hell, she could even hold up well in a bar brawl, but keep herself together in public places? Not so much.
Getting back to her feet she finally found her way to the shore, and began to head along, in look out for new customers and old acquaintances.

[jarofdirt]

Pausing at the top of the dunes to see where he had come up in relation to the town, Jack watched as the people went to and fro, the settlement already bustling. Despite the warming salt air that caressed his cheek in the form of a gentle breeze, he slipped his coat on over his vest and shirt, not wanting to have his hands already occupied holding the garment in the event that he needed to draw his sword or throw a quick punch. Or hold more than one bottle of rum.

Fingering the beads braided into his beard, Jack continued on his way, weaving through the throngs of people crowding the wide alleys and walkways. A tune played by a nearby hornpipe filled his ears, and he found himself humming along softly as he squinted in the bright morning sun. Confident no one was looking, he snatched a shiny apple from a stand with a flash of his ringed hand and without breaking his stride, and hid it in his large coat sleeve until he passed the vendor. That was to be his breakfast. Then finally coming to the tavern - an easily recognizable and stout building with several barrels stacked out front, the sounds of yells and whoops thundering from the inside, and the smell of alcohol permeating the surrounding air - he stepped aside to let a stumbling inebriated man pass through the door and out into the alley. Taking a bite of his apple, Jack briefly caught a glimpse of another man sitting upon one of the barrels who was repeatedly flipping a coin, but his gaze continued on, his thirst for something much stronger than water or tea driving him forward. He entered the tavern.

[Lauren]

Bailey met Jack's gaze briefly as he passed, never pausing as he continued to flip his coin. He was certain Sparrow would've been intimidated, had he known who he was. The moment the tavern door swung shut behind him, Bailey jumped up from the barrel, and instead of following Sparrow inside like he'd intended, he walked in the opposite direction. He sauntered through the town, weaving through people as he went, stopping briefly as he passed a flock of wenches, circling around the pieces of meat this town called it's residents. His hand rested on the butt of one of the women as he whispered something in her ear. She flushed bright red and he gave her a wink, stealing a quick kiss from her lips before he carried on on his way.

He continued through the town and down the docks. His eyes set on his target, the Black Pearl. He walked behind a woman on the docks, carrying armfuls of maps. She dropped one. Bailey didn't hesitate to pick it up, picking up his pace to get in front of her. "'scuse me, miss," Bailey said as way of introduction. "You dropped this, I believe," He held the map out to her, flashing her a shockingly pearly white grin for a man of Tortuga.

[Lisa]

Astoria ran her tongue over her lips, savoring the taste of the rum. The tavern was pretty calm for Tortuga, but it was also pretty early in the day. Most of the town drunkards would probably be sleeping until the afternoon, and most prostitutes didn't come out until later at night either. There were a few other pirates sitting at the bar and a couple of wenches. But she wasn't to worried about who was surrounding her, all she cared about was the rum in her mug. Going three days without rum was hard for her. Not that she was a drunk, but she sincerely enjoyed the taste of rum. . . the buzz was just an added bonus. She finished the last sip and ordered another mug. When the bartender returned she took a long swig. "Mmm. . . ." She let out a happy sigh, now feeling as though she satisfied her thirst and glanced at the pirate at the other end of the bar. He looked like your average, cocky pirate. She rolled her eyes and looked away.

[Lauren]

Quinn walked through the town at a quickened pace, already late for her morning chores. She had a basket of bread tucked under her arm, fresh, warm baguettes and loaves, from the bakery where she worked. She weaved through the crowd and headed straight for the tavern where her first delivery was due. She rushed straight to the bar and took two wrapped loaves from the basket and handed them to the barman in exchange for a couple of coins, which she put safely in the front pocket of her dress. She spun around to leave, knocking the bottle of rum over on the bar, the drink spilling straight into the lap of one Captain Jack Sparrow, whom she had no idea of his identity or status.

"Oh!" Quinn gasped, grabbing a cloth from the bar and immediately sponging his trousers. "Terribly sorry, mister, my apologises. I am ever so embarrassed," Her cheeks flushed red as she kept her eyes down, cleaning up the man that she'd so clumsily spilled the drink over.

[jarofdirt]

Jack jumped at the sudden coldness of the rum that quite literally cascaded into his lap as he sat at the bar. He had had many a dream similar to this, with rum just dropping into his possession seemingly out of nowhere - but it had always been confined in a bottle. Now, it appeared, he was not so lucky.

" 'ey there, love," he said to the woman who was now trying to clean him up, his eyes momentarily widening at her actions but not holding any anger. He gave a crooked, golden-toothed smile and lightly caught her hand with his, gently taking the cloth from her to finish the job. It appeared she had gotten the most of it however as he glanced down at his lap. "No worries, eh?" he then told her as he met her gaze.

[Lauren]

Quinn looked up at him, her dirty blonde hair falling over her face. She locked eyes with the pirate, her worries fading at the sight of his smile. "I'll ..." She paused, fishing a coin from the front pocket of her dress. "Another bottle please," She said to the barman, sliding the coin across the counter. She looked back at Jack, meeting his gaze for a moment, then looking down at their hands, his holding hers. "I'd appreciate my hand back, mister," She said with a slight, nervous laugh.