(no subject)
Title: Non-sensical conversation
Author: Icarus
Characters involved: Beckett, Alastor
Synopsis: Yet another meeting between Beckett and Alastor, pre-ending to the second movie.
Editors Notes: woo for daydreaming! Im gonna go fall over onto my bed now since its getting late and I have school in 8 and a half hours. Hope you all enjoy!
As the tide began to lower, the ships in port sunk slightly, allowing easier access to the deck. Regardless of the two foot difference, Cutler had continued his stride up and onto an E.I.Co trade ship. The door to his private quarters was shut and locked, which was a comforting sight. Removing a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and stepped inside only to find someone sitting behind his desk, reading one of the various paper leaflets that were scattered about the chestnut article of furniture. The book lowered on a limp wrist and Alastor's mask gazed back at him.
"It's simply maddening, how you seem to show up when I want to be alone. Be a good little plague and remove yourself at once."
"Temper, temper your lordship. We both know that you, as a nobleman need to maintain your composure."
"Don't play games with me, Crowe. I have much work to accomplish today."
Sighing, Alastor shut the book and placed it down flat on the desk. Leaning forward, his elbows rest on the small map that was spread out over the desktop, his finger tips all meeting in an arch.
"You shouldn't lie to me, Cutler. I'm better at it. You've merely returned to get away from all the blithering idiots your forced to be associated with, if I'm not mistaken?"
Clearing his head with his eyes closed, he gained a slightly troubled face and began to walk to the giant wall map.
"In any case, I wish to be alone. Disappear, Alastor."
"Lord Beckett, I'm appalled. To think I believed we've become friends..." With a tone of sarcasm making itself apparent, he stood up, and began to wander about the room. "I'm not going to leave, Cutler. My work is yet to be finished."
"Oh, really...? And why exactly would that cause you to seek my office and enter it without permission?" Touching his map, he traced his hands along the continent of India. "Which raises another question. How did you get in here when the door remained untouched?"
"It's a matter of what doors you close that determines which others you open.... I closed one, yours opened." Cocking his head to the side, he continued to wander about the room, picking up papers and reading them over as he went. "Now... Time for a test. What does that tell you about me?"
"That you're insane, Mr.Crowe."
"Hm... Not quite, your lordship. Insanity is the notion that you're perfectly sane while everyone around you is mad. However, I believe only myself to be mad. Therefore, I'm not... Merely 'eccentric' if you will."
"Mad is as mad does, my good man." He said calmly with a pleased smile upon his face. Sitting down, he placed a pair of spectacles on his face and began to draw his next strategy on the map that lay before him.
"But not when it's done in the interest of avarice, apparently"
At Alastors last words, Beckett's pen stopped moving and he remained frozen in time for a moment before setting his pen down and removing his glasses.
"Please, elaborate, Alastor. Your words are giving me the notion that you're getting at something..."
"Of course I am, Cutler. When have I not paid you a visit without a notion or two in hand...?" Stopping, he sat down in a chair across from him, crossing one leg over the other. Beckett leaned in and interlocked his fingers whilst leaning on his forearms to listen intently. "You seek Jack Sparrow, am I right? The perpetual thorn in your side that happens to have the fastest ship in the world... Why exactly haven't you managed to catch him yet? Of course it's in your power to do so. You have armies on seven continents ready to strike... Yet through 'blind luck' he always escapes... I think you're prolonging his capture on purpose."
"Non-sense. We've just been seeking other things as well."
"Like Davy Jones' heart, from what I've read."
"Please, Mr.Crowe get to the point. I've begun to lose interest in this irrelevant banter."
"Greed will ultimately destroy you. You'll gather up enough upon your back to break it."
"And why does what I do concern you so much?"
Arching a brow, Alastor shook his head slowly whilst looking towards the floor. Picking his head back up, he snickered.
"You're more of a fool then you realize, Cutler. Heed my words: Keep the Heart close to yours and maybe if your lucky, only one of them will have a knife through it." Standing up, he began to exit the room.
"You still haven't answered me, Alastor."
"It should be obvious, your lordship. Have you a hand mirror?"
"No."
"Good. Take this one." Holding up a thin mirror, he walked closer and flicked the back, making a metallic *tang*. "It appears as any other would. However, the real mystery lies within the vision of oneself in it's reflection."
Taking the mirror, he looked into it and saw only himself.
"You surely jest... It is an ordinary mirror."
"Then the right object is not within it's gaze... Now, I must bid you adieu." Turning around, he opened the door and walked out into the fading light, leaving Lord Beckett alone at his desk, contemplating Alastor's words. Shaking his head, he opened one of the drawers and placed the mirror inside of it.
"...Cryptic drivel."
Author: Icarus
Characters involved: Beckett, Alastor
Synopsis: Yet another meeting between Beckett and Alastor, pre-ending to the second movie.
Editors Notes: woo for daydreaming! Im gonna go fall over onto my bed now since its getting late and I have school in 8 and a half hours. Hope you all enjoy!
As the tide began to lower, the ships in port sunk slightly, allowing easier access to the deck. Regardless of the two foot difference, Cutler had continued his stride up and onto an E.I.Co trade ship. The door to his private quarters was shut and locked, which was a comforting sight. Removing a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and stepped inside only to find someone sitting behind his desk, reading one of the various paper leaflets that were scattered about the chestnut article of furniture. The book lowered on a limp wrist and Alastor's mask gazed back at him.
"It's simply maddening, how you seem to show up when I want to be alone. Be a good little plague and remove yourself at once."
"Temper, temper your lordship. We both know that you, as a nobleman need to maintain your composure."
"Don't play games with me, Crowe. I have much work to accomplish today."
Sighing, Alastor shut the book and placed it down flat on the desk. Leaning forward, his elbows rest on the small map that was spread out over the desktop, his finger tips all meeting in an arch.
"You shouldn't lie to me, Cutler. I'm better at it. You've merely returned to get away from all the blithering idiots your forced to be associated with, if I'm not mistaken?"
Clearing his head with his eyes closed, he gained a slightly troubled face and began to walk to the giant wall map.
"In any case, I wish to be alone. Disappear, Alastor."
"Lord Beckett, I'm appalled. To think I believed we've become friends..." With a tone of sarcasm making itself apparent, he stood up, and began to wander about the room. "I'm not going to leave, Cutler. My work is yet to be finished."
"Oh, really...? And why exactly would that cause you to seek my office and enter it without permission?" Touching his map, he traced his hands along the continent of India. "Which raises another question. How did you get in here when the door remained untouched?"
"It's a matter of what doors you close that determines which others you open.... I closed one, yours opened." Cocking his head to the side, he continued to wander about the room, picking up papers and reading them over as he went. "Now... Time for a test. What does that tell you about me?"
"That you're insane, Mr.Crowe."
"Hm... Not quite, your lordship. Insanity is the notion that you're perfectly sane while everyone around you is mad. However, I believe only myself to be mad. Therefore, I'm not... Merely 'eccentric' if you will."
"Mad is as mad does, my good man." He said calmly with a pleased smile upon his face. Sitting down, he placed a pair of spectacles on his face and began to draw his next strategy on the map that lay before him.
"But not when it's done in the interest of avarice, apparently"
At Alastors last words, Beckett's pen stopped moving and he remained frozen in time for a moment before setting his pen down and removing his glasses.
"Please, elaborate, Alastor. Your words are giving me the notion that you're getting at something..."
"Of course I am, Cutler. When have I not paid you a visit without a notion or two in hand...?" Stopping, he sat down in a chair across from him, crossing one leg over the other. Beckett leaned in and interlocked his fingers whilst leaning on his forearms to listen intently. "You seek Jack Sparrow, am I right? The perpetual thorn in your side that happens to have the fastest ship in the world... Why exactly haven't you managed to catch him yet? Of course it's in your power to do so. You have armies on seven continents ready to strike... Yet through 'blind luck' he always escapes... I think you're prolonging his capture on purpose."
"Non-sense. We've just been seeking other things as well."
"Like Davy Jones' heart, from what I've read."
"Please, Mr.Crowe get to the point. I've begun to lose interest in this irrelevant banter."
"Greed will ultimately destroy you. You'll gather up enough upon your back to break it."
"And why does what I do concern you so much?"
Arching a brow, Alastor shook his head slowly whilst looking towards the floor. Picking his head back up, he snickered.
"You're more of a fool then you realize, Cutler. Heed my words: Keep the Heart close to yours and maybe if your lucky, only one of them will have a knife through it." Standing up, he began to exit the room.
"You still haven't answered me, Alastor."
"It should be obvious, your lordship. Have you a hand mirror?"
"No."
"Good. Take this one." Holding up a thin mirror, he walked closer and flicked the back, making a metallic *tang*. "It appears as any other would. However, the real mystery lies within the vision of oneself in it's reflection."
Taking the mirror, he looked into it and saw only himself.
"You surely jest... It is an ordinary mirror."
"Then the right object is not within it's gaze... Now, I must bid you adieu." Turning around, he opened the door and walked out into the fading light, leaving Lord Beckett alone at his desk, contemplating Alastor's words. Shaking his head, he opened one of the drawers and placed the mirror inside of it.
"...Cryptic drivel."