t is bad luck tae have a woman aboard, mates...nay, women in gen'ral b bad luck -- The Dock

Jack immediately felt the female annoyance pressing in around him and suddenly wondered what gave him such a crazy idea as to bring them all aboard in the first place. On the verge of shouting for them all to go drown themselves in rum and that he'd be going to the Pearl alone, Chanel suddenly kissed him. Ah. That's why. It all came back very clearly as Jack returned her kiss thoughtfully. But still. He strode to the edge of the dock and poised, one foot still airborne, when Anamaria rose and began ranting about some blood boat or another. Will. Drat him! How do some men manage to go through life skirting whores and remaining abstinent and then managing to find a pretty girl who was madly in love with him and stay with her...happily...ever...after. Forever! The pyrate doubted Will had been slapped ever. Just as this thought occured to him (he had been tuning Anamaria out) the stinging contact of a pyratess' hand, that uncanny force that swung Jack's head about on its axis and had him stagger aside a full step before straightening with mouth tight and eyes wide with indignance. It suddenly occurred to him that Chaylsie was speaking. Ranting. About her daddy. Chanel marched off as though in a pout and Almalure mentioned with screamable composure that she was going to get her things. And she was wearing his hat. And Jack's face went through a series of interesting expressions, much akin to his horror and outrage and numbness and full-fledged apoplexy when he'd found all his rum burned by a spiteful Elizabeth. "Fine!" he flung at Anamaria, throwing his arms out and then jerking a coin pouch from his belt. Withdrawing the handful of sparkling coins with such 'care' that a good few rolled merrily across the planks and disappeared to labelled as 'sunken pyrate treasure' and grabbed her wrist, dumped the coins into her hand . "Buy ye bloody boat and go be a fisherman--lady...turtler...whore...whatever ye were before ye turned to pyratin'!" His dark gaze (surely this was just the effects of the rum?) whirred to Chaylsie. Bandana around her upper half. Raving about her daddy. Ye gods. Where was Gibbs and Stephen and all those good, sensible, understandable, non-mysterious men when he needed them? No, scratch that. Stephen, he needed, not Gibbs. Definitely not Gibbs. This was exactly what was meant by 'women be naught but bad luck, Jack, 'member that if ye learn nothin' else in all ye life...' Just this sort of thing. He fought the mad desire to push each woman into the water and then sail away and not look back. And then he came back to himself and offered Almalure a truly sanely winsome grin and lifted his hands, "Ah yes, ye'll be needin' your affects, no doubt. Take your sweet time, darling, I'll just pop aboard the Pearl and...sail away..." Turning away from the minor detail that she was wearing his favorite hat, Jack smiled and waved her on her way. Chaylsie. Ah. "Don't ye be needed by that bonnie daddy of yours, Chay, love? Maybe ye should nip o'er and find..." Oh yes. Her daddy was on Tortuga and would come over like a wounded bull when Chaylsie ran and delivered her news about naught, nasty, pyrate Jack. He'd want a duel. He'd keep Jack longer on Tortuga and Almalure, Chanel, Anamaria, and Chaylsie would all have a rather lot of time to drive him insaner than he already was. The smile was glued to his face, but his eyes drew out of focus thoughtfully. He couldn't let Chaylsie go and then run off to the Pearl. But all things forbid he kill her. Tie her up? Throw her into the water? Give her rum? Something to ensure that he would not be marked as a coward. Something typical and unsuspicious. Something...He glanced at Chanel, then at Chaylsie, and blew a slow exhale. "On the other hand," he went on, voice smooth and cocky again as he stepped nonchalantly towards her, "I be thinking it'd be only proper to send ye along with a shirt. I've ruined yours. Step aboard the Pearl a wee moment and I'll find something suitable to throw ye out in." He glanced towards the beach, kohl-lined eyes buzzing as he raked the sands for a sign of Stephen or even Gibbs. Jack had never longed more for the reliable decks of the Black Pearl under his booted feet, or for a crew who jumped when he barked orders at them. Suddenly it seemed like a very good idea, with Almalure trotting off to get her things and Chanel sitting on the beach and Anamaria with a handful of money, to grab Chaylsie and leap in a longboat and begin rowing away. So, of course, he did. This might have been a splendid plan for leaving behind all the other troublesome women except that Stephen and Gibbs had each taken a longboat over and hence, there were two other of his own longboats bobbing gently in wait for someone to row them out to the Pearl. "Sorry, love," he said to Chaylsie as he bundled her into the prow and took a seat across from her, "But ye be needin' a new shirt..."

((wah! poor jackie! nobody loves him...and he's gone somewhat insane. but the jack-ness flair is lacking due to an ongoing sickness in the player of jack, so dinna fear...he'll be back when rothwyn has her correct head back (the one she's wearing now is bloated and puffy and full of aches and pains and runny eyes and...)))