(Untitled)

[touch_destiny]

She's waiting still, but soon--very soon, now--what she longs to see will appear

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[doyoufeardeath]

"The nerve you have..."

His voice is here before the rest of him slithers into view, slick and wet; the raft one takes to reach the Black Pearl does not even stir under his weight -- and why should it? He is the Sea's man.

His great, mottled leg is the first one forward, clanking against the planks. "Ye dare to summon me? Y' couldnae even keep your own date, Calypso..."

But all the same, the Sea has called and Davy Jones has answered.

[touch_destiny]

Her breath catches, and she steps forward to meet him, all glittering eyes and graceful movement of waves, beads clattering in her hair and in her skirts.

"Ye have a task to fulfill, Davy Jones," she says, lifting her head in a short, sharp movement so that her hair swings in heavy coils. "That is why ye were called here."

[doyoufeardeath]

The thick, rubbery lip curls, and one or two tendril lashes in irritation.

"I know better then some the cost of duty," he says, words rolling off his tongue. "Ye dare tell me my place? Ye go too far!"

It's always too far for Davy. But they've never known when to stop pushing the envelope-- otherwise, they forget where it is.

[touch_destiny]

She glares at his insolence, her eyes flat. "Ye've forgotten it for so long, and now ye must come further," she tells him, nearly scolding. "Jack Sparrow an' his Pearl are not meant for these ends of de world, but there they float, so bold as they are!"

Her heart aches, but she takes no other step forward; pride flashes in her eyes.

"An' what can ye say to that, ay? That you let them go?"