Mind the bleedin' ship.

[Anamaria]

Tortuga was a home to many things. Taverns, whore houses, new and unusual places to sell your soul, but nothing really compared to being out on the dock. Looking at all the ships casually left there, the majority of which were rather bland in comparison to the one she'd sailed in on. But still, that didn't mean she wanted to be segregated and left to 'watch the ship' while the rest of the crew buggered off to get well and truly rat arsed.

Apparently not wanting and not doing, were two different things. As much as the Jamaican mink disliked the job, she plonked herself down on the dampened wood to which the ship was attached. Head turning in the direction of the strip of taverns that everyone else had disappeared to, paws cupped around her mouth before she decided to make her annoyance a little more vocal. "Yer not bloody helpful!"

And that was all she said on the subject, multiple questioning glances quickly sent her way, none of which from anyone that mattered. So she swore, in her own hybrid Spanglish mix no less, and clamped those paws down on her knees, tail swishing rather unhelpfully at the same time. Stupid bleedin' pirates.

[gibbs]

"Sounds like yer havin' a jolly day, lass," Gibbs commented, tossing up an apple he'd picked from a cart along his walk idly up and down in his paw. His rounded ears turned in the direction of the pirate woman. "Of course, ye wouldn't want yer ship goin' sailin' off without ya again as it has a habit o' doin'."

The badger lifted the apple and crunched into it finally. At least when he ate the things he was somewhat respectable about it, not spitting bits and pieces like Barbosa did when he ate.

Gibbs had just been out for a normal stroll. It was never too early to drink, but sometimes coming off one drunken stupor you needed a period of sobriety to make the next decent. And that was the stated of Joshamee Gibbs at the moment, of all the unlikely things. He was sober.

At least as close to sober as he could get.

"I'd recomend ya ask some o' the crew I be accustomed to t' watch yer vessel, but I'm just as sure if I did that it would go missin'." Gibbs gave her a shrug, before tossing the apple off of the dock, causing a small splash and then leaving it to bob in the water.

[Anamaria]

The minute that voice hit those small furred ears, Anamaria bit her lip. Habit o' doin? That was a bit below the belt for Mr.Gibbs. Clearly he hadn't got enough alcohol in him yet. Still, it irritated her all the more. She was watching a ship that she could quite easily sail off with,but she was still doing the job for the time being. Where was the logic?

Head turning to face the badger, all the mink could do was wrinkle her nose and fold those arms as she swung her feet backwards on that dingy wooden seat. " 'appened twice actually. 's not a habit yet." That was a lie. Even Jack had told her history would just keep repeating itself. It was fate's way of telling women not to captain ships. Daft git.

Watching as he proceeded to eat an apple, and throw the remnants into the water, the pirate let her gaze shift over him for a moment or so. "No aura of rum today then? Sure yer not ill?" Canting her head to the side, a thoughtful smile played across those lips. She could only help but wonder just how drunk Ragetti and Pintel were getting.

[gibbs]

"Nah lass, ya just got a lotta bad luck sailin' with ya is all. I think yer doin' good to have it in the harbor as it is." Gibbs looked up at dark furres ship, reaching up to scratch his head. Even twice was more than most captains ever had to go through that didn't lose their vessels to sea or storm. Especially of a girl of her age.

"Well, I was aimin' to fix that error but I be runnin' low on funds and I thought, well why not let it wear off so I can enjoy it all the more when I get a bottle this afternoon." There was the most sufficient explanation as to why the old sailor wasn't completely drunk. Not that he didn't want to, but rather that he wasn't especially well funded at the moment. Though that's usually the way you ended up sharing company with Jack Sparrow. Something that Anamaria could undoubtedly attest too.

Lowering a hand first, her proceeded to grunt to get down on his knees beside her. Then he had to turn himself to sitting. "I'll be honest with ya lass. I ne'er was fond of havin' lasses aboard ships. Every time I've been in the company of one aboard a vessel we've run into a special lot of trouble along the trip." He reached up to thumb at a piece of apple skin that got stuck between his teeth, pulled it out, and then flicked it into the water.

"But I think ye've mad as good a captain as any man I've served under. Even if ya could use a necklace made out o' rabbit's feet to hang 'round yer neck, judgin' from the luck ya've had. Just means ya work that much harder." Though he meant it to be a compliment when he started saying it, his brow furrowed slightly, not knowing whether he'd worded it right or not.

"Sorry lass, I shoulda said that a bit... diffr'nt." He rubbed the back of his head, tossling his dark gray and pirate greasy fur a little bit. "So what's got ya waitin' out here this fine afternoon? Yer crew mannin' the pub until the wee hours?"

[Anamaria]

"Bad luck? I'd go for bleedin' cursed myself!" Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say considering their experiences of curses, but it was certainly how she felt. Luck just seemed to pass her by, in the form of opportunities, men, ships, whatever could happen, never usually did. A depressing fact she'd become more than accustomed to. Still, she hadn't sunk a ship yet. That was the main thing, she'd just casually had them stolen or sunk by other people.

The reasoning behind his lack of intoxication brought a smile to the the chocolate mink's face. Lack of funds, oh how she could relate. Pushing a half full bottle of rum (the only one she had left, no less) towards the sailor, once again the tail swished as she changed the way around she crossed her legs. "I think I like you better when yer drunk, mate." Well, that was certainly charming wasn't it? Good ol' tactful Ana.


Suppressing the urge to laugh as he stated his thoughts upon having a woman aboard the ship, the furred female only nodded in understanding. They did bring problems, but they also solved them. Take her and Elizabeth for example, they'd stopped the Pearl sinking numerous times! But she could see where Mr.Gibbs was going with this. He was trying to be nice, and so she just sat there smiling and musing on the whole situation. He seemed to have established he should've worded it better too, which was exactly what she was thinking. "Aye, ye should've. Ta, all the same though."

And finally came the question of her crew's whereabouts. "Aye, that'd be them. Crawling back at 2am too bleedin' drunk to do little more than drown!" The half hearted joke was true in a sense, but she needed a good laugh all the same. So that was exactly what she did. She just sat there and laughed. God, rum really went to her head.

[gibbs]

"Ya've had a might t' drink yerself, sounds to me," Gibbs said, looking up at her and twitching his whiskers. Now that he thought of it he could actually catch a hint of it on her breath as she laughed, even from where he was sitting. Ah rum, what a bonny scent it was, and it made the old badger's mouth water at just the thought of putting his paws around a big welcoming bottle and-

"Beggin' yer pardon but uh... If ya have any on ya I could hang around a bit and help you watch yer ship," he said, wiping the hints of salivation with the back of his paw from his hungry maw. She was right, he had been entirely too long without his lovely maiden fair. Oh the poems that lady could inspire, though most of them to a tune and accompanied by raised foamy glasses. What he would give for the feel of that foam on his whiskers.

He might have been just a little bit of an alcoholic.

[Anamaria]

A might to drink? Nobody usually noticed. Perhaps she's drowned her sorrows a little too much that day. "A might perhaps, but 'least I can still walk straight." A subtle dig. Not said with any particular malice, just annoyance at the task she'd been left with. Paw shifting upwards to rub the bandana concealed spot between her ears, the mink shuffled for a moment, before nodding to the bottle.

"Way ahead o' ya mate. Bottle's there, feel free." Pulling herself upright with a swish of that long bushy tail, Anamaria took a moment to walk around, regaining the feeling in her legs for the most part. There was something about sitting cross legged that always made her numb. Shaking her head, down the slightly drunk pirate sat (with all the elegance of an elephant) before she leant forwards and brought her hands up to rest her jaw upon. "I miss Jack."