(no subject)

[silver_flecks]

Del likes Singapore.

It's busy, and there are people, which isn't always true when things are busy (she thinks but could be wrong) and there are duckies (now there are weren't before one has purple and green feathers and she's named him Jennifer Ignatius) and gum.

She's chewing the gum. That's where it is. In her mouth. To be chewed.

It tastes like dandelion wine that's been spilled on wooden benches.

It's good. She thinks. She knows.

It's fun, as she skips with her duckie in arms (and if it used to be a crewman, she isn't bothered) along the dock, crooning to it before looking back at Jack and grinning.

Comments

[silver_flecks]

Del looks at him and smiles, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Like Rome. You always get there if you walk far enough and fast enough and remember to click your heels. I know. I do."

Once upon a time, a young man hung that sign, carefully, and when he came down the ladder he tripped over a young girl who was sitting at the bottom, playing with a ball that bounced higher and higher each time, and she looked up at him when he bent to scold her with one blue eye and one green eye and grinned so widely he invited her in for tea instead of scolding.

This probably doesn't matter at all, but there's a tiny mark on the sign, like a ball hit it too hard and too fast, little crack shaped like a fish in the dark. If you know what a fish in the dark looks like.

Del doesn't know at all, merely watches with amusement as her too-big t-shirt loses its sleeves and they turn into dancing flamingos.

And then blinks at Jack.

"I like it here."

[pirate_jack]

"So do I, Del-me-luv," he says, unnaturally serious all in a heartbat. "It's the best sort of place, savvy?"

And then he's grinning.

"Been here before, I have, to this very shop. There's a man." A beat. "D'you know him, then?"

[silver_flecks]

"Savvy," she agrees, and then Delirium looks a little shifty, a little guilty, a little like she's been caught coloring in the books of Morpheus' Dreaming before he was dead.

She's still smiling a little.

"MiGhT." Crafitly, before she takes one of his hands in both of hers and smiles a little more widely, pulling him to the door.

"He hides behind the pages. I like that. I do."

[pirate_jack]

Jack winks at her and lets himself be drawn, then pulls his hand free in order to sling his arm around her shoulders.

With his other hand, he opens the door.

The scent of dust and aged incense fills the air of the shop. Underlying it are other scents, faded and dim and strangely blended-- scents of green leaf and dark leather, bronze and brass and gun-oil and powder, sea-salt and ocean spray, wood and dark earth.

It is filled with knick-knacks and piled junk, covering every available space and corner. The only evident light seems to fall through the dirty glass of the front window, scattering faint rays into the dimness.

In a far corner, behind a counter, an old man stands and watches quietly. He is polishing a brass bowl, which occasionally throws a spark as he turns it over and over in his hands.

[silver_flecks]

Her features

shift

like sidewalk chalk mixing into goo after the sprinkler's gone off, and she smiles even more widely as her fingers run over the woodwork of a trunk and she looks at the old man.

She hasn't seen him (like this) since before, and it's interesting to look at him like him instead of like an overgrown pair of fuzzy blue slippers that happen to talk (sometimes).

"Hi."

[pirate_jack]

The old man looks at her. Even in the dim light, there's something strange about his eyes. With careful deliberation, he sets the bowl down, then smooths his hands over his long white beard and brings the palms together before his chest.

"Gāoxìng jìandào nĭ, fū rén," he says politely, watching her.

In Mandarin.

[silver_flecks]

"Certe, Jack, sentio nos in kansate non iam adesse," Del says solemnly to Jack before smiling at the old man again, a little differently. A little like respectfully, if not quite, as she offers him a mango that wasn't there a minute ago, before peering with great interest at the bowl he set down.

[pirate_jack]

"Haudquaquam conieci esse," Jack replies smoothly, and then flashes her a wicked grin and a wink.

He watches as the old man takes the mango from Del and studies it gravely, then turns to set it on a velvet pillow on a high shelf behind him. When he turns back, Jack steps forward.

The bells jingle in his hair as he tips his hat into his hands and bows his head in formal acknowledgement.

"Delightful to see you again, mate."

Seriously said, almost gruff in tone.

[silver_flecks]

The thing about shops like this one is that they tend to collect things all on their own, sometimes. You might be the owner, but that doesn't mean you know all that's in the shop, or you brought it all there yourself.

Sometimes people--or personifications--leave things behind, accidentally or entirely on purpose. (Part of why you'd best be careful touching the spinning wheel that sits in a back corner.)

Del leans over and presses a kiss that's gentle to the old man's cheek and wanders over to a corner to pet a small cat that's purring on a pile of rugs, setting down a hand mirror as she does so.

The mirror will stay when she is done, and if you can see things you shouldn't in it, well--what do you expect in Singapore?

[pirate_jack]

The old man watches Del settle in with the little cat, smiling enigmatically behind his beard, and then turns to Jack and offers a slight bow.

"The pleasure is mine, Captain Sparrow." It's hard to place his accent, precisely-- he sounds as though he could be from anywhere, or from everywhere.

"What brings you and your companion to grace my shop with the honor of your presence?"

Jack grins at him. "The lady wanted to sail somewhere interesting, savvy?"

There's a beat, though, and then he casually adds, "And I've got a bit of a challenge for you. I'm seeking a very particular sort of treasure-- something very special indeed."

[silver_flecks]

Del strokes the cat carefully, gently, and lets it stay a cat, which she thinks is very nice of her, all things considered. But her gaze is sharp and focused when she looks up.

There are Rules.

But there's none that stop her from taking an interest, and the look she has now is very interested indeed.

The old man's face is as smooth as before when he answers. "What you need you will not find here, Captain."

[pirate_jack]

Absently, Jack starts rubbing his left palm on his pants-leg-- and then realizes what he's doing.

The old man gets a very sharp look as Jack clenches his hand into a fist and puts it behind his back.

"Not talking about that, mate. I've got time left yet."

There might be something of desperate resolve in his voice.

[silver_flecks]

"You won't for long," he says mildly.

Del pulls the cat into her lap and dubs it Babylon, still watching as closely as she can.

[pirate_jack]

The hand held behind his back twitches violently, but Jack doesn't move.

"Long enough. It'll be long enough."

He takes a deep breath, and then grins once more.

"But in fact, it's a matter of time that I wanted to talk about, savvy? A trick to turn it about."

[silver_flecks]

"Will it?" Still mild, before he gives a smile back, one that's very small and polite.

"A fine trick that would be, too, if one could afford such a thing."

[pirate_jack]

"Affordability's not the problem, mate. I'm sure that a reasonable price can be met." Jack leans closer, setting his beads and bangles clacking.

"It's finding the treasure in the first place that's the real challenge, savvy?"

[silver_flecks]

"For some, perhaps," he agrees, picking a staute up momentarily to wipe a smudge from it. "For others, they might make such knowledge their business. Who can say?"

[pirate_jack]

"Funny thing, that," he agrees drolly. "And there are some who might frequent the business establishments of those others."

Jack is momentarily distracted by the open brasswork on a lamp-stand nearby, or so it seems. He runs a finger along lines and curves that swell like ocean waves as he adds,

"Like this one. Might you happen to know of where I could find such a pretty piece of work?"

Black eyes are gleaming with manic, madcap glee.

[silver_flecks]

The smile is a bit more genuine.

"Perhaps I do. It may be that among the objects in this humble establishment, such a thing exists, even. For a price."

[pirate_jack]

Jack grins wickedly, and doesn't say anything at first.

He holds his right hand out, looking at the rings on his fingers, then reaches up to stroke his braided beard thoughtfully.

With a flick of the wrist, a brilliant blue star sapphire begins its near-hypnotic dance over his knuckles. Forward and back again, shining even in the shop's dim light-- and the gleaming white star almost seems to wink like a mystic eye.

[silver_flecks]

For an old man, his eyes are bright and clear as he watches the gem dance.

His right hand begins to smooth his beard again, as if deep in thought, before he slowly turns and makes his way, unhurried, into another room of the shop. When he returns it's with a small chest in his hands and a smile that's a bit more genuine and a bit less carefully polite on his face.

"It seems that my memory, as faulty as age may have made it, is still active enough to recall an item that may be what you seek."

[pirate_jack]

"Well now." Jack sets the sapphire down on the counter, and holds out his hands for the chest.

"Let's have a look-see, mate."

[silver_flecks]

He's still smiling as he opens it for Jack to see.

The chest is old, and made of cedar, but despite that it smells of the sea and sweat and wine that's been leaked and left on the ground.

The cat meows as Del smiles.

[pirate_jack]

And as she does, something inside the chest catches the light with a bright gleam.

Slowly, half-enchanted, Jack reaches into the depths and lifts the astrolabe from its red-velvet nest.

Is it gold, or simply shining brass? It doesn't matter. Very nearly a work of art in its own right, its scrolled surface shows carefully engraved maps, with rings of stars and rings of planets smoothly lying one over another, with compass-points atop them both in order to easily provide direction. One circle shows latitude, another longitude, and a third describes the degrees of the night sky and the earth below. All of these are familiar to any sailor accustomed to navigation.

One more ring shines clearly, however, circumscribing the whole-- a simple golden band with two words in delicate script:

Tempus Frangit.

"This is a treasure indeed, mate." It's very softly said, almost as if Jack's afraid the sound of his voice might break the shining thing. "How does it work?"

[silver_flecks]

"Simply enough," the man answers as he sets the chest down and lifts the sapphire for inspection. "Choose the time you wish, and the stars above shall match the engraving. There are limits to such things, of course," he continues as he pockets the sapphire and places the chest on a shelf, "but what they are, I am afraid I have never taken the time to learn."

[pirate_jack]

"That's all part of the fun of it, isn't it?"

Jack takes a soft leather pouch from a pocket and slides the astrolabe into it, then wraps it up with care. He returns the pouch with its precious contents to an inner pocket, far away from prying eyes and thieves' knives, then brings both hands together in the same sort of oddly formal gesture the old man had used earlier.

With a half-bow, he says, "A delight doing business with you, honored dà gē." He's grinning, wickedly enchanted, and then a thought strikes him. Jack flashes Del a look.

"See anything you'd particularly like to have, lass?"

[silver_flecks]

"Babylon," she says immediately.

The cat meows.

[pirate_jack]

Jack looks quizzically at the cat, and then shrugs and looks back at the old man.

"Your call, mate."

[silver_flecks]

"Who am I to deny the whims of Mania? The cat may go where it pleases."

The cat meows again, looking smug.

[pirate_jack]

Jack grins, turning back to Del.

"Up to your new friend, luv. But your Babylon's welcome on me Pearl."

[silver_flecks]

Del considers and bends her mouth next to the cat's ear.

She's the Delight of Cats, too. (And the Delirium, but there's no catnip about.)

That might be why Babylon purrs and seems to settle in her arms as she stands and beams.

"Thank you," and she says a name, but it's a funny sort of name that blurrs together in your ears, before turning to kiss Jack's nose. "Thank you too! Barnabas will be his friend. He will. I know."

Barnabas may not know this yet, mind you, but Del does.

[pirate_jack]

Jack just smiles, and doesn't even try to steal a further kiss-- not from Del, not here, not now.

He does slip an arm around her waist, however, as he turns back to the old man.

"Until next time, mate. Fair winds and smooth sailing to you."

[silver_flecks]

"If there is a next time," is the answer, as the old man goes back to polishing the bowl he'd been tending to when Jack and Del arrived.

[pirate_jack]

Black eyes glitter sharply, but Jack says nothing, even when his hand twitches once more.

Instead, he guides Del and Babylon toward the door, and the three of them step out into the street.

"Well, now." He grins down at her. "Care to continue our tour, luv?"

[silver_flecks]

She looks at him, and smiles, a little, and takes his left hand in her right.

"Yup. We have to have fun now."

[pirate_jack]

The cat has made its way up to Del's shoulder and is poking its nose out from behind locks of her hair, but stops long enough to let out a miaow of agreement.

Probably.

Jack leaves his hand in Del's and grins wickedly down at her.

"Devils and black sheep and really bad eggs," he says confidentially.

[silver_flecks]

"Yo ho," very solemnly, before she bursts out laughing, hair meltingchangingshifty from blue to green to red again.

"I had a bad egg once. It made my stomach hurt. So I got rid of it."

The cat informs Del that if she were smart, she would have given the bad egg to Barnabas.

[pirate_jack]

"Wise of you, luv," he says seriously, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm and leading the way down the street.

It's more of a sway than a walk, and as they pass from street to street it gets more crowded, but Jack always seems to find a way through, weaving deftly through small openings that become larger ones.

From ahead comes the sound of hundreds of voices all shrilling chatter at high volume, along with the scents of fish and rice and sweet things and sour things and fire and ocean and salt and singed metal and all the things that a crowded city market might hold, dockside.

Singapore.