(Untitled)

[bushel_o_apples]

Barbossa sits at a booth, with a goblet and a jug by his side. Glasses are all right, but this is what he's used to drink from and it makes him feel more comfortable. Occasionally he dips one long black fingernail on the wine and draws little patterns or diagrams or something on the tabletop,

Of course, we could always... No, the guardians are too

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[will_scarlett]

Will is thoughtful, the scars he found on his body are still in his thoughts though dueling with Marian helped, so he walks the Bar.

He spots Barbossa at the corner of his eye and his curiousity wakes up, so he walks over, a young man dressed in green medieval clothes and red hair who bows,

"Good day, sir, what do ye draw?"

[bushel_o_apples]

He looks up at the young man. Quite old-fashioned, but still closer to the world he knows than many of the people he has seen around the Bar in these couple days. A smile curves the corners of his mouth and crinkles around his eyes.

"Naught but idle drawings to keep the musings of an old man company, my good boy" As his hand absently wipes over the last pattern he traced. He then dries it on the handkerchief, still smiling.

"You seem to know your way around this place. I take it you have been here for some time, then...?"

[will_scarlett]

Will looks embarassed and fiddles with the lanyard round his belt with a nametag saying number 3 and Will Scarlett,

"Na quite sure, sir, lost me memory on Midsummer day an been findin' out bits o'who I am an this place."

As he fidgets he looks quite young though the hands that twist are calloused and rough.

[bushel_o_apples]

His eyebrows raise, and he looks interested now. Genuinely so.

"Ah. Magic afoot. I had been told that this place was heavy with it, but it's an entirely different thing to get a confirmation."

He gives the boy a sympathetic smile, pushing the jug of red wine across the table.

"Sadly, I only have one goblet and I don't think you'll care for sharing it..." A looks at the nametag "Mr Scarlett?"

That almost sounds like a pirate name, doesn't it? Well, sure enough he isn't a noble fop. Doesn't look like one, doesn't move like one, and he has the hands of a working man. Could even be, couldn't it?

[turned_captain]

Will is simply coming through the bar to get some water after blacksmithing most of the morning and before his lesson with Elizabeth. Nothing special, and he didn't intend to stop.

Not until he saw that hat.

In a few strides, he's standing at the entrance to the booth.

"Barbossa."

[bushel_o_apples]

He looks up at the sound of Will's boots approaching

"Ah, Bootstraps. Oh, excuse me, Mr Turner. You just walk so much like your father used to" His smile is sweet, small and as fake as a Piece of Eight stamped with Jack Sparrow's face.

"How does the day find you? Made any preparations already?"

[turned_captain]

If Will had even trying to be pleasant, he would have stopped at the mention of his father's nickname. Instead he smirks, dryly and unamused.

"I've been trying to find a way out of this place for nine months," he tells him.

[bushel_o_apples]

His eyebrows raise, and he nods thoughtfully

"Funny thing you should sound so angry about it, our good Jack seems quite content with his stay here. But of course, this being Jack we're talking about, it's an act and a lie, nothing else."

You don't like me, young master Turner, do you? Oh, you want to be a pirate now, but the "right" sort of pirate, not the "wrong" sort like me, don't you?

"Nine months, you said...?" A look around the Bar again "This place sure has some... Quirks"

[whiteabsolution]

Sugar loved Pirates, absolutely loved them, when she was younge she would read all about them and fantasize about being on a ship treasure hunting. And there was one right there, a few steps from her, she could hardly believe it at first.

She almost stutters, "Hullo sir. May I join you?" The strawberry blonde gives him a small smile.

[bushel_o_apples]

He looks up, and his eyebrows raise a little, but he makes a gesture with his left hand. Either people at this place are very different from the place he comes from, or the tavern harlot is an universal figure. And as far as he knows this place, both options are equally as likely.

"Feel free to, miss. I'm afraid I cannot offer you a cup of your own, though"

Gesturing towards the half-empty jug of wine and the only goblet by it

[whiteabsolution]

Hey! She's no tavern whore, she's top of the line in her time and likes to keep it that way - he's sadly mistaken...Sugar takes a seat at his booth, not let down by the fact that he doesn't have a cup for her, she didn't drink alcohol anyways.

"Oh, I'm fine, thankyou." Sugar gives him another smile, extending her hand in greetin. "I'm Sugar." Her voice almost a purr.

[bushel_o_apples]

In fact, he isn't. It's just he right option is that people are very different here. He extends a long, gnarled, long-nailed hand to take hers lightly and bow his head in salute.

"Captain Héctor Barbossa"

[7twistedwishes]

Oh, she feels very free to, slipping into a seat, with an extra jug of good wine, and an extra goblet. Tonight's attire is something perhaps more fitting to Barbossa's time and the caribbean, or at least, enough to not be unfamiliar.

Flashing the pirate a charming smile, the woman refills his goblet. "And how are you, captain?"

[bushel_o_apples]

He looks at the woman, his eyebrows arching slightly.

"I am fine, miss, though I don't recognize your face. You'll have to excuse an old man's memory... Have we met before, by chance?"

[7twistedwishes]

"No, not in person we have not, Captain. I hope my company is not bothersome this early." She just redefined the meaning of 'impish smile', and only for him. Barbossa should feel flattered, redefining the universe is not done for everybody.

[bushel_o_apples]

Flattery has a strange effect on a man with an ego the size of Barbossa's. On one hand, he's naturally cautious, but on the other he so clearly deserves flattery that it becomes one of his weak spots. He smirks, where others would smile, and nods

"I take it we know each other by reputation, then? But still you have me at a disadvantage, miss. At the very least you know my occupation, but I don't seem to associate such a pretty face with any name I've heard."

[berryberryraz]

Raspberry has a trenchcoat on. (She wishes she didn't. Clothes annoy her.)

She's wandering the bar with a bottle of vodka in one hand. (She has not yet rediscovered champagne.)

She walks directly past Barbossa's booth. Care to comment on the gorgeous, translucent pink-purple lady?

[bushel_o_apples]

You could call the almost audible blink he gives as he sees her pass a comment, yes. In his years he has seen many a strange thing, but this? This is definitely new. He doesn't speak up, though, being in quite the thoughtful mood.

[berryberryraz]

She's too busy getting drunk and giggling to herself to pay him much attention this time around. However, we did mention she's wandering the bar.

Fifteen minutes or so later she's back with the same bottle of vodka, much reduced in contents. This time she sees Barbossa. A delicate eyebrow arches. No words. She's paradoxically too drunk to hit on him, and not particularly good at coming up with non-sexual conversation points.

[bushel_o_apples]

It's hard to miss a translucent pink woman, isn't it? Her gaze is returned with curiosity from inside the booth, but no words are exchanged so far. Maybe she can't talk? There's an awful variety of weird spectres out there, and some are mute, he knows that much.