Anamaria had retreated from the tsunami, cursing the sea. She'd taken what little she could manage and all the rum she could carry. The inevitability of the wave had simply been something to accept and she'd only entertained the idea of remaining in her hut and letting the sea take her back for a short time. After several days in the forest--she ( Read more... )

Anamaria didn't apologize. She never explained herself and had long ago jettisoned guilt, sending it to the depths with other weaknesses like sympathy and mercy and faith. She made her choices and be damned anyone who didn't agree or understand. It was a strategy that had served her faithfully for nigh on thirty years, perhaps more (she really ( Read more... )

Her hut was as warm as one could hope for given this hideous weather. The snow didn't have the bite of a storm at sea but the permanence of the chill was almost worse. Anamaria had awakened to a solid walled cabin with a proper door and snow outside and promptly taken to her cot again with a bottle of rum. It had taken a short amount of time to ( Read more... )

For a pirate, Anamaria had spent precious little time at her vessel. The Pearl was a depressing place for her, a ship that wouldn't sail, freedom gutted and foundered. It was enough to drive a decent pirate to drink. And the fact that that mean Anamaria needed something to drink meant that she'd had to stockpile a whole new run of rum. Given ( Read more... )

Some days Anamaria started to think that this island wasn't so bad. It wasn't a ship but it was better than being locked up in a jail somewhere or food for the crows in some cage. But then there were other days. Days like this ( Read more... )

There was a sneaking suspicion in Roger's stomach that if that ridiculous draft hadn't come in, he probably never would have gotten around to waking up. He was healing, now, which meant every wound itched like a motherfucker, and he found the only way to keep from clawing his skin clean off was to just up and fall asleep. Stupid fucking dinosaurs ( Read more... )

The wood upon the island was hardly fit for a sailor to build much of anything, but that did not delay Norrington's quest to search for suitable trees with which to build a small sloop with. He had in mind the sort that could be sailed by one man, in the least, but up to five men if they so chose. He slowly smoothed out the piece of sandalwood ( Read more... )

The first thing that Anamaria did upon waking, even before divesting herself of the insanely frilly and horrible yellow gown she was wearing, was try to find some rum. If she drank long enough and hard enough, she reasoned, she could conceivably forget everything that had occurred over the weekend. And if she was very, very lucky, the drinking ( Read more... )

Will had spent most of the weekend blissfully ignorant of the island's insanity. He rarely paid any attention to anyone not on the Pearl, and recently, his interaction with people that were not his new bride had become even more limited. But Jack had said that Anamaria wanted to speak to him, some urgent matter he wouldn't go into detail on, ( Read more... )

Will walked along the beach, thinking furiously. Abby was obviously frigid, or a lesbian. Honestly, how could she have rejected him like that? He'd thought they were friends! But it wasn't as if she was the only woman on the bloody island. Will just didn't know enough of them, was the problem ( Read more... )