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Post by Jacky on Jan 13, 2007 14:43:57 GMT
A moment of hesitation.. but then a goldtoothed grin, as a familiar twinkle comes to my eyes.
"Come on then, luv." I put a hand on Rae's back inbetween her shoulderblades, and lead her down from the helm again. As we pass by Mr Gibbs I give him a short glance, "Let me know when we're nearin' port." I tell him.
We pass him by and go to the Captains Quarters.
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Post by Nikki on Jan 13, 2007 14:54:56 GMT
There's the Jack I know. But I daren't say that thought aloud.
But I can't help that things are feeling just a bit back to normal for the moment.
I'm glad for the little paper square distraction in Jack's hand. Finally, something bigger than this. Something bigger than our problem. . .my problem. . .whichever.
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Post by Jacky on Jan 13, 2007 15:04:23 GMT
I nudge the door shut behind us and I let go of Rae. As I saunter over to the desk I regard the book that's on top of it. Shakespeare, it says on the cover, in the familiar golden curly writing. I pick it up and hand it over to Rae, "See whether ye can find anything else." I order.
I walk over to the bookshelves instead, and I look through the line of books for one in particular.
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Post by Nikki on Jan 13, 2007 15:10:10 GMT
Flipping through very quickly, page by page, I find only notes we've written to eachother over the past few months, tucked in random margins and corners- but no map. Nothing even remotely connected to anything that even resembles one.
I silently question why Jack's so interested in the corner of an old map. . .obviously if it was in his book, he must've put it there. . .or did he?
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Post by Jacky on Jan 13, 2007 15:13:22 GMT
I eventually pull one book out of the row, and I go over to the desk. Rae steps aside for me as I put it down on top of it. The cover doesn't betray what it is.. it's old, quite obviously. It's cover is dusty and torn, and the color that's once been black has paled considerably.
I open it to the first page, knowing that Rae'll look over my shoulder.
LOGBOOK OF THE DEMETER
Bad writing, tiny letters. I run a finger over it for a moment before I turn over to the next page, and the next, looking for something.
(gtg work! Cya honey! *wave*)
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Post by Daz on Jan 13, 2007 21:15:17 GMT
I Stand again and head back into my cabin where I rip the necklace from my neck. Suddn outburst, I know, since I just spent that.. time with him. That fight that did manage to get alot of things out. But not enough, it seems. seeing them together makes my blood boil again. Im on the brink of throwing this insignificant peice of gold overboard. I study it and its ruby red stone in the middle. In its reflection I can see all of the arguments and all of the.. better.. times ive spent with him. It seems to store it all. Its so more than a ring. He knows that too, deep down.
And hes found it again because he cares. And now im repeating myself. Real smooth.
Ive thought over the ring dilemma. I need to move on. I need to..
I need to get this treasure and then.. just.. leave.
No. I cant.
I need to save this bloody pirate from a life of... whatever rae is doing to him. However she is changing him from the great man he is.
I just admitted that.
I just admitted that *he* is *great*
Where the heck did that come from?
Oh fuckit all.
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Post by Nikki on Jan 14, 2007 2:02:21 GMT
"The demeter?" I find myself saying slowly. Finally, a mystery worth solving.
I scan my memory for anything that may have to do with a demeter and can't think of anything.
Demeter is the goddess of the harvest. Which doesn't pertain to anything that has to do with a map, in my eyes.
None of this is making any sense atall.
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Post by Jacky on Jan 14, 2007 10:06:51 GMT
"Aye." I confirm, not pausing to flip the pages one by one. "It's the logbook of one sir Henry Morgan. One of the better Brethren of the Coast."
I fail to include in my explanation how I came by said logbook. With the quiet assumption that she won't bother to ask.
When I find the page I was looking for I put my finger down on the middle and my gaze sweeps over the scribbled words. I find the passage I was looking for, and read it aloud;
"...the Brethrenhood permenantly dismissed. The treasure which was gained over the years then hidden in a place no other soul would know of. To verify its existance the treasure's berth was mapped securely, the pieces of said map divided among the Brethren. Each part carries the bloodred seal in a corner. We made a pact, took an oath! to hide the pieces individually in a place where none would ever find them."
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Post by Nikki on Jan 14, 2007 14:14:11 GMT
My eyes light up a bit as he reads. I think I've gained back some of my effort to care. "Are there any clues atall?"
That would certainly help. Having one piece of a faded map isn't much credit to anyone.
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Post by Jacky on Jan 14, 2007 14:16:13 GMT
"That's what I don't know. I don't know whose piece we just stumbled across either.." I snap the book shut and hand it to her. "But maybe dear Henry left us a clue 'bout his, eh? And I'm sure you could find it if you read carefully."
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