Barbossa sits at what has quickly become his usual spot by the lake, on a large flat rock from which he gets a good view of the Pearl. This time, though, he's busy with something entirely different, as he has occasionally been for the last few days. He holds a small, palm-sized leather-bound book in one hand and seems to be reading backwards
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"Best we consider bringing along a supply of rum then." And while it's far too true that Gibbs loves his drink, sometimes the drink is the only thing that can dull the anxiety of facing the impossible.
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Barbossa prefers to face the impossible on a high of his own rage and pride. It has worked for him so far.
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"Now, as I think our business for now is done, I should be seein' to my duties."
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"See to them, mr Gibbs. And I won't ask you to give JAck my greetings, but since you seem to think she still has her soul, please give the Pearl my fond regards."
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Barbossa turns towards the Bar as Gibbs leaves, and ponders. Maybe a celebratory drink would be in order.
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