PoTC2 crossover Fic
Result of a plot bunny that nibbled one day and finally decided to get going. May or may not make sense, OOC-ness may occur.
Like Morning and Evening
There isn’t much that dare enter the swampy areas in a particular part on a particular island. The only birds that fly overhead are those that haven’t been taught by their parents to know much better or those that are quite tired of flapping their feathery wings through the vast skies. Land creatures skulk and slink around its borders, their natural instincts telling them that it’s much better to have fur and scales on themselves rather than on a wall made out of tough, firm mangrove wood.
However, in the river waters that sometimes run clear and sometimes run murky, life darts to and fro as per usual - not much progress can be made when one tries to teach prawns or various crustaceans where sensible creatures shouldn’t go. The same can be said for fish.
One of the latter scaly inhabitants of the river was suddenly scooped out from its sudden discovery of a wonderfully juicy worm. It also quickly figured out it wouldn't be having its usual early evening meal on account of having met death at the hands of a human child holding a fishing rod.
“We’re not having much luck today,” said the one holding the rod, sharing what would have been the same sentiments with the fish, were it still alive. There was still the quiet of the swamp area as he placed the new catch inside a basket and looked up.
His companion, an older boy of about the age of twelve, had raised his head to gaze further upwards, where the thick tree leaves filtered in little sunlight. The expression on his face didn’t bode well.
“Brother?”
“…there’s an ill wind blowing.”
The younger sibling placed the rod aside and got to his feet. It was true - there was a breeze passing through, ruffling the leaves, making loose vines sway in its wake. But he didn’t quite see how his brother knew that the wind was sick. It was probably one of those older child things.
Although that didn’t mean he didn’t have a right to know what the wind’s problem was.
“Why’s it ill?”
“I don’t know. I just feel it. In here,” commented his brother, now frowning worriedly as he tapped his chest.
His younger brother nodded solemnly. That was probably how Mama always seemed to know when he got ill after eating too much of those sweet roots he and his friends always dug up. She felt it in her insides too.
“…is it bad?” he decided to ask finally.
His brother grimaced. “I don’t know. But I know it’s ill.”
There was a pause, filled with the quiet atmosphere of the swamp.
And then, there came a voice - low, almost a purr and one both boys recognized immediately from the very first syllable.
“There be no such things as ill winds, child.”
The brothers jumped and whirled around. They met an amused smile, stretched out on dark lips upon tanned skin. Above them dark eyes glittered at them with deep knowledge of things they wouldn’t and couldn’t imagine, set off by many dreadlocks from which several gleaming ornaments hung. A sense of relaxed, latent power hung about her; her air was nothing less than that of a queen’s, comfortable and confident in her element.
“T, Tia Dalma…”
The woman grinned a bit, showing slightly blackened teeth. One on her bottom row seemed to gleam on and off as she continued.
“Only ill destinies. And those are through no fault of winds.”
She flicked her glance to the elder boy, and bent slightly, placing her face close to his with a knowing smile. Even if he knew she meant him no malice, a chill or two went up his spine. Beside him, the younger sibling was wide eyed.
“You’re a wise boy,” she murmured through her smile. “Smarter than most’d give you credit for. But best you lay those thoughts quiet - you ne’er know who be hearin’.”
His silent gulp didn’t go unnoticed. “Y, yes, Tia Dalma.”
Nodding, she straightened up and glanced at the basket. Bending, she picked up two of the few fish that lay within. “I’m in need of good fish like these.”
Both siblings nodded. If Tia Dalma hinted for fish, she would get fish.
They found themselves on the receiving end of a glance. To their relief, her smile was benevolent as she removed something from within the folds of her skirt. “My payment to you gentlemen.”
Almost reverentially, the older boy carefully took the glass vial she held to him, filled with a clear amber coloured liquid. He looked at it, knew better to question and pocketed it. “Thank you.”
However, he’d forgotten about his younger, less educated brother and cringed when the higher pitched question arose before he could squelch it.
“What is it?” And quickly added before he was scolded for having no manners, “If you please, Tia Dalma.”
There was a terrible pause again before Tia Dalma chuckled, sending waves of relief down Older Brother’s back. “You’ll find out when you need to use it.”
She said no more, just smiling at them for a brief moment before sweeping past, continuing on past the ferns and bushes, following the river further up to where her abode lay. She made no noise as she moved, just the minimal rustling of large leaves. As if the swamp itself gave way to her.
The mystery that surrounded Tia Dalma’s ways was nothing new to the siblings. Nevertheless, they hurried to pack their things and head home with what they had: a few fish, a vial of magical liquid and a story of encountering the powerful voodoo priestess who kept their small community safe.
~*~
Tia Dalma rarely cooked for anyone other than herself these days, but today was exceptional.
There would be a guest later on and she wanted to be ready for them. Of course, they wouldn’t have dinner on their minds but then, who could resist a good hot meal after such a long journey?
And what a journey, she thought to herself with a smirk as she sliced and gutted and prepared the silver fish.
Eventually the sunlight shining into her home had to be replaced by the yellow glow of candlelit lamps, hanging from her ceiling and walls. Night time had arrived and it was a dangerous hour to be outside any home within the swamp. Unless of course, you had good reason for the predators to keep well away from you - it didn’t matter if the reason was visible or not.
She spooned newly made fish broth into two separate bowls, steaming hot and filled with all sorts of spices gathered from every possible place on the island. She placed them on a cleared table, minding the many knick knacks and paraphernalia that surrounded her. Delicate porcelain cups were put away behind dusty jars of preserved bones and from a drawer, she picked out a double string shell necklace, draping it around her neck.
Conveniently, it was just as she sat down that she heard the faint thud of a boat docking by her stilted home. A few footsteps followed after. And then…
“You’d be comin’ round this hour, I could tell,” called Tia Dalma as the door creaked open.
“And I,” responded a smoother tone, with a trace of a foreign accent, “saw that you would have dinner prepared.”
Tia Dalma didn’t bother getting up as the visitor came closer.
For one thing, it was a woman. For another, she was pale, even more so than the white women of the mainland. In contrast, her hair was as dark as ink, part of it piled up high on her head. Her long dress - notably as impractical as her own for walking through the grit of the swamp yet not one shred of dirt was upon her - shared the same shade of black with white embellishments. She was unlike the women Tia Dalma had seen in her time.
To Tia Dalma’s mind, this was to be expected considering the ridiculous amount of magical power the willowy lady seemed to hold in her very finger tips. It was unlike hers - as different as evening and morning - but the potential was still undeniable and there.
The voodoo priestess smirked, silently bidding her to sit down.
She did so, placing two white bottles on the table. “I also saw that you might enjoy a taste of something besides your rum.”
“Mighty considerate of you,” Tia Dalma remarked, with a nod. “I don’t suppose you’ve tasted Pelegosto Fish Broth before.”
“Not really. But it looks quite appetizing,” was the reply as the visitor tilted her head to look curiously at the eyeball of one of the fish that seemed to stare up from where it floated.
Tia Dalma didn’t hide the grin that slid onto her face. This looked to be a very interesting meeting…
~*~
“So, you were told that I could help you. Who would give you such words?”
“Various people, here and there. And I can see, from where I sit,” the stranger’s eyes gleamed in the candlelight as she poured more of the foreign wine she’d brought into Tia Dalma’s cup. “That they were quite right.”
Tia Dalma’s dark lips quirked upwards. “And what makes you so sure of that fact?”
“You welcome my arrival with fish broth and you drink my gift without falling over. If that doesn’t point you out as the person who has the ability to help me, I don’t know what does.”
“Hah, a good reason.” The voodoo priestess sipped her drink, savouring the new taste. There was a semi-comfortable silence, both biding their time and waiting for the other to make a move.
Then Tia Dalma’s dark eyes fell on the woman sitting opposite her and she truly began to see.
There was another tale brewing, there always was. But like her, this lady sat almost near the center of it all, controlling strings without making them move noticeably, giving a push in directions things were supposed to go. She had learned long before to be careful for ties of power bound her as it bound Tia Dalma. Yet both their roles were far from being over.
From a different time, from a different place… and yet so similar in so many ways…
The stranger smiled, knowing what Tia Dalma had glimpsed. After all, she’d seen the same thing in the lady who understood the threads and knots of chance as much as she did.
“Tell me,” she asked, “what do you call fate?”
“Destiny,” Tia Dalma replied calmly.
“I use a different word where I come from,” the visitor explained and said it.
Tia Dalma murmured the new word beneath her breath. “…very well. I will give you what you seek, since you’ve come this far. But-”
“There is a price to pay,” finished the other lady, her smile remaining.
The voodoo priestess grinned. Truly, a woman after her own heart. “And what will you pay for such a request?”
“…a favour. To be fulfilled at a later date.” She removed a delicate butterfly, intricately cut from what looked like ordinary black parchment, and set it flat on the table beneath her long fingers. “This is the guarantee that you will find me.”
Tia Dalma saw the minute crackles of blue jagged light zip around the piece of delicate paper before winking out of sight. She looked up and nodded. “It is fair.” With that, she strode to a sideboard and removed a leather bag, slightly bigger than her fist, tightly sealed with cord near the edges.
“I don’t have to tell you that it contains great magic.”
“No, you don’t,” confirmed the stranger. “However, I do have to inform that idiot I’m working with.”
The smirk on Tia Dalma’s face remained as they exchanged items across the wooden table. “Men need constant watching over. They do foolish things without a good woman to keep them in check.”
The smirk on the pale lady’s face matched her own as she got up from her chair. “I must go. Thank you for the broth.”
The latter grinned. “Come back any time. It’d be interestin’ ta hear how ye get on, Yuuko.”
The one called Yuuko reached the door and smiled. “I’ll remember that, Tia Dalma. Thank you.” With one last nod, she left and the door shut quietly.
Tia Dalma remained by the table and glanced at the black butterfly cut out she had left behind. Carefully, she picked it up and slipped it into the drawer along with her necklace.
Things from kindred spirits had to be kept safe after all.
~*~
From Watanuki’s shriek in the store room, she could pretty much guess what had happened. Languidly, with her long yukata trailing after her, she strolled towards the source of now what appeared to be stammering and stuttering.
“Yes, Watanuki, what have you uncovered this time?”
The boy just pointed at a floating mirror, framed by a gilt pattern to resemble butterfly wings. Within it, a familiar face stayed and grinned.
“Yuuko Ichihara, there ye are. Who be the boy who seems to know naught about me?”
The sorceress chuckled, going up to the mirror, blocking Watanuki from view. “It’s been a long time. And the boy’s just a recent addition to my list of troubles.”
“OI!”
“Troubles have ne’er brought ye nothing but adventure, to be sure. And once again, it’s blown me way as well.” A smirk crossed the stranger’s face - one that belied the serious intention behind it. “I need to call in that debt, Yuuko.”
“I was expecting this day to arrive.”
“I knew ye would be.” She grinned now. “Ye remember what I said about men?”
“Of course.”
“Then what if there be no woman on board a ship to keep a man from strayin’?”
“Hmmm…” Yuuko tapped her chin with the stem of her pipe as she looked around the storeroom, ignoring Watanuki who was sprawled on the floor still. Then, she headed over to a short chest, made of teak and opened it up. Reaching inside, Yuuko pulled out a small object and smiled.
“If a woman can’t be there… then a compass might give him directions.” She lifted an amused eyebrow. “Whoever you give this to had better be worth it.”
“Worth it or not, the sea will judge,” replied the lady as Yuuko gently pushed the object through the mirror, sending liquid ripples across the reflection. “Although my eyes see clearly he’s the most untrustworthy seadog in all of the Spanish Main.”
“In that case, I wish you luck.”
“Oh, luck will play a part. But best if ye keep to the idea of Destiny playin’ a larger role.” She lifted the small box and opened it up on the other side of the mirror, inspecting the needle as it twisted in a particular direction.
“Here, we call it hitsuzen,” said Yuuko with a grin.
She laughed and nodded. “I remember what ye said. However, our bargain is finished. Fair winds to ye, Yuuko.”
“And to you.”
Watanuki stared as the mirror’s light shimmered away, taking with it the strange image of a tanned skinned woman with a frightening gleam in the eyes - it reminded him of Yuuko.
Speaking of which…
He looked up at her, wondering what to say. In the end, he settled for a rather lame question.
“Was she your friend?”
“In a way.”
“…it sounded like the both of you won’t see each other again,” continued Watanuki tentatively.
Yuuko smiled and turned to look at him. “If Destiny decrees otherwise, then it’s most likely that I haven’t seen the last of Tia Dalma.”
She left Watanuki blinking behind her and strolled back to her room, pondering with a smirk that it’d be nice to try some Caribbean rum today.
End.
Tia Dalma's accent is hard to not write out like dis, and hard to not confuse with piratical accent. @_____@ Forgive me, Tia Dalma fans!!
Like Morning and Evening
There isn’t much that dare enter the swampy areas in a particular part on a particular island. The only birds that fly overhead are those that haven’t been taught by their parents to know much better or those that are quite tired of flapping their feathery wings through the vast skies. Land creatures skulk and slink around its borders, their natural instincts telling them that it’s much better to have fur and scales on themselves rather than on a wall made out of tough, firm mangrove wood.
However, in the river waters that sometimes run clear and sometimes run murky, life darts to and fro as per usual - not much progress can be made when one tries to teach prawns or various crustaceans where sensible creatures shouldn’t go. The same can be said for fish.
One of the latter scaly inhabitants of the river was suddenly scooped out from its sudden discovery of a wonderfully juicy worm. It also quickly figured out it wouldn't be having its usual early evening meal on account of having met death at the hands of a human child holding a fishing rod.
“We’re not having much luck today,” said the one holding the rod, sharing what would have been the same sentiments with the fish, were it still alive. There was still the quiet of the swamp area as he placed the new catch inside a basket and looked up.
His companion, an older boy of about the age of twelve, had raised his head to gaze further upwards, where the thick tree leaves filtered in little sunlight. The expression on his face didn’t bode well.
“Brother?”
“…there’s an ill wind blowing.”
The younger sibling placed the rod aside and got to his feet. It was true - there was a breeze passing through, ruffling the leaves, making loose vines sway in its wake. But he didn’t quite see how his brother knew that the wind was sick. It was probably one of those older child things.
Although that didn’t mean he didn’t have a right to know what the wind’s problem was.
“Why’s it ill?”
“I don’t know. I just feel it. In here,” commented his brother, now frowning worriedly as he tapped his chest.
His younger brother nodded solemnly. That was probably how Mama always seemed to know when he got ill after eating too much of those sweet roots he and his friends always dug up. She felt it in her insides too.
“…is it bad?” he decided to ask finally.
His brother grimaced. “I don’t know. But I know it’s ill.”
There was a pause, filled with the quiet atmosphere of the swamp.
And then, there came a voice - low, almost a purr and one both boys recognized immediately from the very first syllable.
“There be no such things as ill winds, child.”
The brothers jumped and whirled around. They met an amused smile, stretched out on dark lips upon tanned skin. Above them dark eyes glittered at them with deep knowledge of things they wouldn’t and couldn’t imagine, set off by many dreadlocks from which several gleaming ornaments hung. A sense of relaxed, latent power hung about her; her air was nothing less than that of a queen’s, comfortable and confident in her element.
“T, Tia Dalma…”
The woman grinned a bit, showing slightly blackened teeth. One on her bottom row seemed to gleam on and off as she continued.
“Only ill destinies. And those are through no fault of winds.”
She flicked her glance to the elder boy, and bent slightly, placing her face close to his with a knowing smile. Even if he knew she meant him no malice, a chill or two went up his spine. Beside him, the younger sibling was wide eyed.
“You’re a wise boy,” she murmured through her smile. “Smarter than most’d give you credit for. But best you lay those thoughts quiet - you ne’er know who be hearin’.”
His silent gulp didn’t go unnoticed. “Y, yes, Tia Dalma.”
Nodding, she straightened up and glanced at the basket. Bending, she picked up two of the few fish that lay within. “I’m in need of good fish like these.”
Both siblings nodded. If Tia Dalma hinted for fish, she would get fish.
They found themselves on the receiving end of a glance. To their relief, her smile was benevolent as she removed something from within the folds of her skirt. “My payment to you gentlemen.”
Almost reverentially, the older boy carefully took the glass vial she held to him, filled with a clear amber coloured liquid. He looked at it, knew better to question and pocketed it. “Thank you.”
However, he’d forgotten about his younger, less educated brother and cringed when the higher pitched question arose before he could squelch it.
“What is it?” And quickly added before he was scolded for having no manners, “If you please, Tia Dalma.”
There was a terrible pause again before Tia Dalma chuckled, sending waves of relief down Older Brother’s back. “You’ll find out when you need to use it.”
She said no more, just smiling at them for a brief moment before sweeping past, continuing on past the ferns and bushes, following the river further up to where her abode lay. She made no noise as she moved, just the minimal rustling of large leaves. As if the swamp itself gave way to her.
The mystery that surrounded Tia Dalma’s ways was nothing new to the siblings. Nevertheless, they hurried to pack their things and head home with what they had: a few fish, a vial of magical liquid and a story of encountering the powerful voodoo priestess who kept their small community safe.
~*~
Tia Dalma rarely cooked for anyone other than herself these days, but today was exceptional.
There would be a guest later on and she wanted to be ready for them. Of course, they wouldn’t have dinner on their minds but then, who could resist a good hot meal after such a long journey?
And what a journey, she thought to herself with a smirk as she sliced and gutted and prepared the silver fish.
Eventually the sunlight shining into her home had to be replaced by the yellow glow of candlelit lamps, hanging from her ceiling and walls. Night time had arrived and it was a dangerous hour to be outside any home within the swamp. Unless of course, you had good reason for the predators to keep well away from you - it didn’t matter if the reason was visible or not.
She spooned newly made fish broth into two separate bowls, steaming hot and filled with all sorts of spices gathered from every possible place on the island. She placed them on a cleared table, minding the many knick knacks and paraphernalia that surrounded her. Delicate porcelain cups were put away behind dusty jars of preserved bones and from a drawer, she picked out a double string shell necklace, draping it around her neck.
Conveniently, it was just as she sat down that she heard the faint thud of a boat docking by her stilted home. A few footsteps followed after. And then…
“You’d be comin’ round this hour, I could tell,” called Tia Dalma as the door creaked open.
“And I,” responded a smoother tone, with a trace of a foreign accent, “saw that you would have dinner prepared.”
Tia Dalma didn’t bother getting up as the visitor came closer.
For one thing, it was a woman. For another, she was pale, even more so than the white women of the mainland. In contrast, her hair was as dark as ink, part of it piled up high on her head. Her long dress - notably as impractical as her own for walking through the grit of the swamp yet not one shred of dirt was upon her - shared the same shade of black with white embellishments. She was unlike the women Tia Dalma had seen in her time.
To Tia Dalma’s mind, this was to be expected considering the ridiculous amount of magical power the willowy lady seemed to hold in her very finger tips. It was unlike hers - as different as evening and morning - but the potential was still undeniable and there.
The voodoo priestess smirked, silently bidding her to sit down.
She did so, placing two white bottles on the table. “I also saw that you might enjoy a taste of something besides your rum.”
“Mighty considerate of you,” Tia Dalma remarked, with a nod. “I don’t suppose you’ve tasted Pelegosto Fish Broth before.”
“Not really. But it looks quite appetizing,” was the reply as the visitor tilted her head to look curiously at the eyeball of one of the fish that seemed to stare up from where it floated.
Tia Dalma didn’t hide the grin that slid onto her face. This looked to be a very interesting meeting…
~*~
“So, you were told that I could help you. Who would give you such words?”
“Various people, here and there. And I can see, from where I sit,” the stranger’s eyes gleamed in the candlelight as she poured more of the foreign wine she’d brought into Tia Dalma’s cup. “That they were quite right.”
Tia Dalma’s dark lips quirked upwards. “And what makes you so sure of that fact?”
“You welcome my arrival with fish broth and you drink my gift without falling over. If that doesn’t point you out as the person who has the ability to help me, I don’t know what does.”
“Hah, a good reason.” The voodoo priestess sipped her drink, savouring the new taste. There was a semi-comfortable silence, both biding their time and waiting for the other to make a move.
Then Tia Dalma’s dark eyes fell on the woman sitting opposite her and she truly began to see.
There was another tale brewing, there always was. But like her, this lady sat almost near the center of it all, controlling strings without making them move noticeably, giving a push in directions things were supposed to go. She had learned long before to be careful for ties of power bound her as it bound Tia Dalma. Yet both their roles were far from being over.
From a different time, from a different place… and yet so similar in so many ways…
The stranger smiled, knowing what Tia Dalma had glimpsed. After all, she’d seen the same thing in the lady who understood the threads and knots of chance as much as she did.
“Tell me,” she asked, “what do you call fate?”
“Destiny,” Tia Dalma replied calmly.
“I use a different word where I come from,” the visitor explained and said it.
Tia Dalma murmured the new word beneath her breath. “…very well. I will give you what you seek, since you’ve come this far. But-”
“There is a price to pay,” finished the other lady, her smile remaining.
The voodoo priestess grinned. Truly, a woman after her own heart. “And what will you pay for such a request?”
“…a favour. To be fulfilled at a later date.” She removed a delicate butterfly, intricately cut from what looked like ordinary black parchment, and set it flat on the table beneath her long fingers. “This is the guarantee that you will find me.”
Tia Dalma saw the minute crackles of blue jagged light zip around the piece of delicate paper before winking out of sight. She looked up and nodded. “It is fair.” With that, she strode to a sideboard and removed a leather bag, slightly bigger than her fist, tightly sealed with cord near the edges.
“I don’t have to tell you that it contains great magic.”
“No, you don’t,” confirmed the stranger. “However, I do have to inform that idiot I’m working with.”
The smirk on Tia Dalma’s face remained as they exchanged items across the wooden table. “Men need constant watching over. They do foolish things without a good woman to keep them in check.”
The smirk on the pale lady’s face matched her own as she got up from her chair. “I must go. Thank you for the broth.”
The latter grinned. “Come back any time. It’d be interestin’ ta hear how ye get on, Yuuko.”
The one called Yuuko reached the door and smiled. “I’ll remember that, Tia Dalma. Thank you.” With one last nod, she left and the door shut quietly.
Tia Dalma remained by the table and glanced at the black butterfly cut out she had left behind. Carefully, she picked it up and slipped it into the drawer along with her necklace.
Things from kindred spirits had to be kept safe after all.
~*~
From Watanuki’s shriek in the store room, she could pretty much guess what had happened. Languidly, with her long yukata trailing after her, she strolled towards the source of now what appeared to be stammering and stuttering.
“Yes, Watanuki, what have you uncovered this time?”
The boy just pointed at a floating mirror, framed by a gilt pattern to resemble butterfly wings. Within it, a familiar face stayed and grinned.
“Yuuko Ichihara, there ye are. Who be the boy who seems to know naught about me?”
The sorceress chuckled, going up to the mirror, blocking Watanuki from view. “It’s been a long time. And the boy’s just a recent addition to my list of troubles.”
“OI!”
“Troubles have ne’er brought ye nothing but adventure, to be sure. And once again, it’s blown me way as well.” A smirk crossed the stranger’s face - one that belied the serious intention behind it. “I need to call in that debt, Yuuko.”
“I was expecting this day to arrive.”
“I knew ye would be.” She grinned now. “Ye remember what I said about men?”
“Of course.”
“Then what if there be no woman on board a ship to keep a man from strayin’?”
“Hmmm…” Yuuko tapped her chin with the stem of her pipe as she looked around the storeroom, ignoring Watanuki who was sprawled on the floor still. Then, she headed over to a short chest, made of teak and opened it up. Reaching inside, Yuuko pulled out a small object and smiled.
“If a woman can’t be there… then a compass might give him directions.” She lifted an amused eyebrow. “Whoever you give this to had better be worth it.”
“Worth it or not, the sea will judge,” replied the lady as Yuuko gently pushed the object through the mirror, sending liquid ripples across the reflection. “Although my eyes see clearly he’s the most untrustworthy seadog in all of the Spanish Main.”
“In that case, I wish you luck.”
“Oh, luck will play a part. But best if ye keep to the idea of Destiny playin’ a larger role.” She lifted the small box and opened it up on the other side of the mirror, inspecting the needle as it twisted in a particular direction.
“Here, we call it hitsuzen,” said Yuuko with a grin.
She laughed and nodded. “I remember what ye said. However, our bargain is finished. Fair winds to ye, Yuuko.”
“And to you.”
Watanuki stared as the mirror’s light shimmered away, taking with it the strange image of a tanned skinned woman with a frightening gleam in the eyes - it reminded him of Yuuko.
Speaking of which…
He looked up at her, wondering what to say. In the end, he settled for a rather lame question.
“Was she your friend?”
“In a way.”
“…it sounded like the both of you won’t see each other again,” continued Watanuki tentatively.
Yuuko smiled and turned to look at him. “If Destiny decrees otherwise, then it’s most likely that I haven’t seen the last of Tia Dalma.”
She left Watanuki blinking behind her and strolled back to her room, pondering with a smirk that it’d be nice to try some Caribbean rum today.
End.
Tia Dalma's accent is hard to not write out like dis, and hard to not confuse with piratical accent. @_____@ Forgive me, Tia Dalma fans!!