{ Little Dark Age }
Looking down at the man before him, Jack cannot help but feel – responsible for the state of him. Without his wig, he had sprouted a halo of soft near-curls that were strangely cherubic on his porcelain features. It presented an innocence he knew for a fact this man did not possess a whit of, but there was no denying that he looked small here.
Divested of his riches and his grandeur, Cutler Beckett was but a delicate man in a world too rough for him to navigate without dent or damage – and while he may not be innocent, there was no denying that he was vulnerable. Which – despite all that had come to pass – Jack found to be a distasteful outcome.
Perhaps if he had held on to some of that customary arrogance, it would have been easier to accept, but as it was Jack found himself glancing around and taking in the tiny empire this man had built for himself with naught but a tent in the sand. There was no questioning how he was getting by, that much was certain – but Jack did not think for one moment that the means of survival was the source of the humility before him now.
After a moment of consideration, Jack offered out his arm. “They say misery loves company,” He offered, sporting a charming grin a moment, then, “Last I was here, I may have caused a bit of a situation.” That was one way to word sacking an entire city without firing a single shot, alright. “Folks won’t cause me any trouble, but they also won’t be making very good company. I could use some entertainment about as much as you could stomach a meal, I wager.”
It wasn’t that Jack wasn’t used to paying for company – so much as it wasn’t so much the company he tended to be shelling out for. In this case, however, he felt it fair to make a small exception.
Ocean Archive 