lightsailing‌:

@oceanfoamed liked for a starter from calico jack !!!

jack never cared for port royal. it might have been subconscious pride for his own home port or the raving attacks on the spanish that kept him constantly on edge to see those great, red – crossed sails on the horizon. his dislike didn’t stem from unfamiliarity, as jack prided himself on being an adaptable creature. perhaps it was simply something in the air. 

the sky bled scarlet and the sun shared the hue of a firing canon as it kissed the wavering, oceanic horizon. purple bruises rolled across the sky, threatening a storm festooned above the east. a great, sun – tanned slab of muscle, tattoo, and knives glared at him from the adjacent jetty, surely thinking that jack was staring at him rather than the foreboding sky. rackham held his gaze and put his sunglasses on with a flick of insouciance before turning his brown eyes front. 

heading into town, the two made their way to the rendezvous point with a mysterious caller who was looking to hire their ferrying service, taking less – than – savory cargo from one depository to the other. the meeting wasn’t to convene until long after the sun went down, but jack was eager to sit down at an inn somewhere and eat something that he didn’t have to pick maggots or rat shit out of, and hoped that charles was of the same mind. 

“do you know where to find this man? from what i know of him, he’s a lizard looking fuck, but it seems like this place is crawling with people that fit that description uncannily,” he said to charles, who was looking as leonine as ever in the shadows of the sunset.

Port Royal had a bite to it that Charles held little fondness for. Her fortifications were becoming frightfully admirable, and the noose of England throttled the freedom from her more and more with every passing day. While it was not necessarily dangerous to conduct one’s business here, if England’s interests became more focused in this region it was of little doubt where at least one of her fleets would anchor itself. 

When that day came, business in Port Royal would become quite a deal more difficult, and the risk of it would either make the profit increase tremendously, or would force it to take place elsewhere until this area, like so many before it, became too dry for any free man to drift in, let alone conduct himself in the avenues of services rendered. 

Yet again Charles found himself grimly grateful for the legitimizing papers – even if it did mean a port to answer to, it was a free port in it’s own way, and one not even England would fuck with. It made striding beneath the growing shadows of an English-dominated fort a little less daunting, all things considered. 

Jack’s voice drew his gaze away from the shadows, and distracted him from tracking the movements of the redcoats. The man’s irritable manner caused a twitch in Charles’ lips that might have indicated a smile had almost occured on reflex before being subdued. Leave it to Jack to dismiss the ominous sense of foreboding with his saucy observations. 

“Lizards ain’t done nothing to deserve being thrown in with this lot,” He pointed out in spite of the seriousness of the situation, “Though I imagine I get your point.” He did – he no more liked this than Jack did, admittedly. “We’re meant to meet up at the Broken Spear, though from what I hear the only thing decent there is the ale.” The food, apparently, was better meant for pigs than people. “Figure we might as well wait somewhere with better fare, in the meanwhile.” 

Which would explain why they weren’t heading down toward the Spear, but rather up farther from the docks, toward some of the better establishments. “Unless you had something else in mind.”