(no subject)
Despite what's going on inside the bar, it's a beautiful late-summer evening outside. It's surprisingly still; without wind to stir them, the afternoon's few clouds are scattered across the slowly-darkening sky, and the remaining beams of sunlight slant over the lake and the grass, touching everything with gold. The only sounds are the calling of birds and the occasional whinny of a horse, and the steady lapping of waves on these strange and impossible shores. Everything is quiet here at worlds' end-- even peaceful.
And then, of course, it isn't.
The surface of the lake explodes suddenly, water rushing upward and outward with stunning force. At first, nothing can be seen beyond the violent cascade of the unexpected, wildly fountaining geyser.
But soon, the lake is no longer empty. A ship rests at the center of the now-settling waves-- a black ship, with black sails, rumored in stories to once have been crewed by the dead and the damned.
Standing at the port rail, his hand wrapped tightly in one of the Black Pearl's lanyards, Captain Jack Sparrow looks out over the lake toward Milliways.
"... that's very interesting."
And then, of course, it isn't.
The surface of the lake explodes suddenly, water rushing upward and outward with stunning force. At first, nothing can be seen beyond the violent cascade of the unexpected, wildly fountaining geyser.
But soon, the lake is no longer empty. A ship rests at the center of the now-settling waves-- a black ship, with black sails, rumored in stories to once have been crewed by the dead and the damned.
Standing at the port rail, his hand wrapped tightly in one of the Black Pearl's lanyards, Captain Jack Sparrow looks out over the lake toward Milliways.
"... that's very interesting."