Not all treasure is silver and gold.

“How can I trust you?” Although it was a bit reassuring, the emerald eye beauty couldn’t trust him. No thanks to Frollo and his men, Esmeralda has had serious trust issues… especially with men. “No trespasser has ever left this place, alive.”

That was a mildly worrying notion, and a suspect one. Jack narrowed his eyes and edged a fraction away from the wall, giving her space but also attempting to gain some freedom of his own.

James followed the pirate close behind, though not without a quick glance to see if anyone saw where he was going and with who. Thankfully, the crew seemed preoccupied with their own business. Either that or they were a little too preoccupied. James would have cared, but the promise of another bottle shoved those thoughts away.

Once inside, Jack headed straight for his stash. The former commodore watched him as he sat on his desk, a fresh bottle of rum at his side awaiting him and the nearest available seat suspiciously invited.

By now, James was quite intrigued with his rival’s behaviour. Jack’s disposition towards him had been strangely amicable so far, with a few of his typical taunts here and there. Either the pirate wanted something from him, or he was more drunk than he let on, though what Jack could want from him aside from humiliate him, he had no clue.

He had said he would humour the man, and so he did, placing himself next to the pirate and taking the liberty of grabbing the bottle by it’s neck, popping off the cork and taking one long swig.

It tasted vile, deliciously vile.

Handing the bottle back to its owner, he looked at Jack with a defying look. “So, Captain, how’s your plan to get me hopelessly inebriated coming along?” He tested, the corner of his mouth rising into an upturned smirk.

Navigating tactful flirtation was a skill that had always been hit and miss with Jack. He was a cocktail of wit, charm, drunkenness and madness and slave to lusts so powerful his patience tended to fail him. Lewd and handsy as he was, though,  ‘take what you can’ certainly did not apply, or at least only worked where the subject of ‘can’ depended on someone else’s opinion. He was a pirate, not a monster.

In this instance, he felt like he was losing the battle in wanting simply to climb on James and see what happened. But this was a gentleman. He wouldn’t be impressed by slavering nonsense or impetuous groping. Though if he wants me, it’ll absolutely be on his mind.

Seeing as the chair he had presented had been cleverly avoided, Jack tugged it closer with his feet and used it as a footrest. He took a drink from the previous bottle as he was handed the fresh one.

“-30 out of 10, do not recommend.”

@anklesalltheway​

scottishoctopus​:

“Why did yeh idiots bring me into this mess?!”

*sees Davy Jones – oh no him too??!*

*nonchalantly wheels over a moving hand trolley towards the box*

“Pardon me, Gentlemen, believe there’s a box here in need of rescue – I - I mean, transportation.”

@scottishoctopus​ @killmebutneverinsultme @thepiratehunter

cptsprrw​:

ashortdropandasuddenstop​:

@eerietriad​ @killmebutneverinsultme​

“ As for my wig.. need I remind you of the long luxurious locks under it?”

❝ i’d burn that wig just so ye stop hidin’ the said luxurious locks, luv. ❞

“ I’ll consider that a warning. Any thing else of mine you with to set on fire, Sparrow?” 

w h e r e  d o  y o u  t h i n k  y o u ‘ r e  g o i n g ,  S P A R R O W ?

“Nowhere.” Not at a fast pace anyway. Bloody boxes don’t roll. 

Someone heard you don’t like your name being misspelled