002 | Action
Jack staggers through the corridor, his head thrown back, trying to get the last drops of rum from the bottle he's been drinking. When no more is forthcoming, he glances round for a place to set the empty bottle down. He tucks it into the gauntlet of one of the suits of armor lining the corridor, closing the metallic fingers around it to keep it in place. "There you go, mate."
He doesn't even have time to take another step forward, let alone bemoan his lack of rum, before a ghost appears through the wall, hovering at his elbow with a full bottle on a silver tray. Jack grins as he takes it. "Don't mind if I do. That's one thing about this place: there's always more rum. Could almost get used to it, apart from the lack of ocean, that is."
He focuses on his reflection in the window, about to drink a toast to himself, and to the hospitality of the ghosts. But then he falters. Past his reflection, past the graveyard the window looks out onto, looming in the fog, is a very familiar sight indeed. "The Pearl ... she's here."
He doesn't even have time to take another step forward, let alone bemoan his lack of rum, before a ghost appears through the wall, hovering at his elbow with a full bottle on a silver tray. Jack grins as he takes it. "Don't mind if I do. That's one thing about this place: there's always more rum. Could almost get used to it, apart from the lack of ocean, that is."
He focuses on his reflection in the window, about to drink a toast to himself, and to the hospitality of the ghosts. But then he falters. Past his reflection, past the graveyard the window looks out onto, looming in the fog, is a very familiar sight indeed. "The Pearl ... she's here."