High Pitched, Low Swing, && tag, mister turner

[Jack Sparrow]

It had been a fair little while since young Mister Turner had been left at Port Royal along with Miss Swann, and it was high time that he checked up on the lad. After all, it was hardly right to see the lady without stopping by to see the man.

And if there was anything to go by, Elizabeth very well must have told dear William what it was that had been going on in his life.

After all, who in their right mind didn't know?

Taking long strides and making his way down the streets, he tried to recall where it was that the Mr. Brown's smithy was; more than that, he tried to think of any other place that Will would be in the case that he was not around. He didn't want to waste time in the city - not when there was still much to do within only a matter of days.

Stopping when he saw a young woman with a child, the older trying to usher the young boy along the streets, he side-stepped her, cutting in front of her. "'If you'll 'scuse me for a momen'," he started quickly, holding a finger up to stop her from saying anything or moving along. "You don' happen to know the whereabou's of one William Turner, do yeh?"

Her eyes were widened and slightly fearful of the man that had stopped her along her way down the street. "In the blacksmith's shop, of course," she snapped, before she brushed past him along her way once more, prodding the little boy in the back once more.

"Ay," Jack muttered under his breath. "'S wha' I though'."

And he continued down the street once more, ducking his head in and out of the side alley-ways to see whether or not the prominent sign of the smithy stood out among the buildings.

When he reached the end of one street and came up with nothing, he turned and moved along down the next street, a grin spreading across his face when he caught sight of the wooden plank that hung above the doorway. "Won'erful," he said with a slight grin, and sauntered up to the door, knocking briskly twice, wondering why he didn't just enter without half a thought about it."

[Will Turner]

The smell of sweat, smoke and hot steel clung heavily to the air in the blacksmith shop, mingled with the scent of alcohol, provided by one J.J Brown who had become even more useless after Will returned to Port Royal. Mr. Brown was what you could call a human vegetable these days. All he did was sleep, drink, and pass out. Rinse, lather and repeat.

Several empty bottles laid scattered along the floor of the shop near Brown's feet that Will hadn't bothered to pick up yet. The donkey, too, was asleep after having had it's fill of hay and work that day walking around in circles forcing the wooden contraption to work.

Despite the name on the sign of the shop it was more or less his these days. On the opposite side of the room from the snoring [quite loudly at that] Mr. Brown was Will, pounded away at the hot steel as he created another sword.

Bang. Bang. Snoree.

And so it went on as keeping in rythme beat by beat, much like a metronome a piano player would use to time their tempo, the hammer beated the hot metal flat.

And so it'd been like this for the last hour;

Bang. Bang. Snore. Bang. Bang. Snore.

This made the rapping sound created by Jack's knuckles on the wooden door to sound foreign. Actually it took Will a few seconds to re-adjust to any other sound at which time he laid down the hammer, reached up to wipe his face off a bit and clambered over to the door to greet...

Captain Jack Sparrow

Since when did Jack get back into town? Moreover what was he doing in Port Royal. With Tortuga only a few leagues away it wasn't likely Sparrow would choose this straight laced town over the more piratey one if he could help it. "Jack!" There was no denying the look of surprise in his voice or the emotion conveyed on his face.

[Jack Sparrow]

There was only another moment or so of knocking before the door was flung open and he was greeted with a rather dirtied and worn out looking Will. Slipping his head inside the room, the pirate looked around for a brief moment to ensure that there was indeed no one else around, or, in this case, awake.

"Jack!"

Just as he was greeted with his name, he confirmed that the only person within hearing shot, had he been awake, was the owner of the place, wha's-'is-face, Brown or something of the likes. Holding his arms out in greeting upon seeing Will, he smiled falsely and said with equally as surprised tones - though his were false, of course - "William!"

Leaning back to see past the opened door, Jack checked up and down the street in either direction, turning to make sure the way behind him was clear. He straightened back up, facing Will once more and meeting his gaze. "Wha' a lovely su'prise seeing you here, of all places," he declared with the flick of his wrists.

For a moment, he hoped that there would be nothing of awkward pauses between the two in which the past came to haunt them. It wasn't that long ago, after all, that he had, for lack of better words, had a lovely shot with Elizabeth. However, as far as Jack knew, Will hadn't the stlightest idea about it.

Perhaps if he was lucky, the blacksmith didn't know, and he would be safe for a day longer.

Of course, with his luck, it was far from likely. Whether something like Will confronting him would happen, or he would find out that Jones' heart was no longer in Port Royal, or something would get in his way of snatching the goods, and the entire journey would have been pointless.

None of which, in all reasonable rationality, sounded anything remotely close to slightly appealing, even to Jack's twisted taste.

[Will Turner]

Without much warning Jack proceeded to poke his head into the shop causing Will to lean back to avoid being collided into by the enigmatic captain before Sparrow pulled back out and started looking up and down the street, this time influencing Will to poke his head out from behind the door to look up either way of the street as well.

What did he see? Nothing. Not a soul, from a naval officer to a soldier to some rowdy kids running up and downt he street. Ever since Will saved Jack from the noose people made it their business to avoid walking up and down the street as much as they could. Didn't want to associate with pirates and all, though they couldn't avoid him entirely, the shop was the only blacksmith in town.

Through it all his 'master' [though he acted more like Will's apprentice these days if you asked him] was oblivious to everything but the great black oblivion of alcoholism.

By now Will was more accustomed to Jack's personality and antics, though not entirely seeing as Jack was always surprising him. "Right and I am to believe that you merely needed work done by a blacksmith." Will responded keeping his tone somewhat light though he wasn't too fond of Captain Sparrow at the moment.

As luck would have it the blacksmith did know about the kiss though had confronted neither Jack or Elizabeth about it. The idea to grab a sword from one of the nearby racks to his right crossed young William's mind for a second, where a scene played out in his mind of him confronting Jack about the kiss.

It was an inviting notion without a doubt and one that he would possibly continue toying with for quite awhile but for now he'd hold off said actions.

"What brings you here Jack?"

Hopefully the answer wouldn't contain something about him wanting a sword crafted by the wondefully talented JJ Brown.

[Jack Sparrow]

As Will leaned forward as Jack leaned back, the pirate was half tempted to twist sideways to see if his antics would be mimicked in a source of light humor, something that had been done on several accounts before, with one ex-Commodore.

However, he didn't, as there would more than likely have been something of a confused chaos that would follow, that neither men would be able to get through without a raised voice and harsh word. It had happened on too many occassions - very few of which had been between Jack and Will so much as the former with someone else - to have not had the lesson learned in due time.

"Right, and I am to believe that you merely needed work done by a blacksmith."

"No," he answered quite simply, swaying slightly to the side; straightened out as soon as he realized he had done so. "You are to believe that I am here merely to see an ol' shipmate and his betrothed."

He pronounced the word as though it was composed of a number of smaller, more foreign sounding bits and pieces of words. Sometime a long while ago, he had developed the habit of stressing the point of his sentences that way, and many a time he was told that it was fairly irritating. That in itself was a reason for him to continue on with doing such.

"What brings you here Jack?"

He brushed past Will, uncaring that it wasn't the most polite thing to do, but also coming to realize that it wasn't a home of sorts, and a workplace: people were supposed to come and go as they pleased without feeling guilty about it.

Walking along the wall of the smithy and eyeing the number of swords that lined the walls, he recalled briefly the time that he first met the young child of Bootstrap Bill. That was when he was wanted for the first time by the city, and most certainly not the last. It was amazing that Will made such an assortment of weapons: from cutlasses to rapiers, katanas to sabers, everything was there.

"To wish a friend and his fiancee the best of luck in their new found relationship," he said with an air of sarcasm. He waved his hand around in space beside him, gesticulating with no point to be made whatsoever.