![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dwgm600 words today, theme: "Treasure". Many thanks to my dear ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hereswith for beta reading, editing, and excellent suggestions.
Previous bits...
And here's today's...
30. Treasure
~ An Execrable Business, continued...
The door closed and Nell, moving warily into the center of the cabin, realized Jack was given to understatement. From what she could see in the dim light, there was detritus of all sorts gracing the floor, the big table in the center of the room, a couple of the chairs, and spewing from a chest at the foot of the unmade bed that lay in the far corner, half-hidden by a fringed, brocade drape.
She took a deep breath. Let it out again, half-listening to the noises that came to her, faint but clear: Jack's voice and the thud of boots on the quarterdeck above and the myriad sounds of a ship preparing to set sail. Then, adopting one of Grandmother's tricks, she spoke to herself, firmly, aloud.
"Well. We'd best get started."
She went across to the gallery windows and drew the heavy, velvet drapes fully open, to catch the remaining light of dusk, and to watch the lamps of Tortuga fade behind when they should depart. Then she addressed the lanterns, which proved to have been merely turned down. Once Nell adjusted these (standing on a chair to reach), she could really assess the state of affairs.
Not good.
She turned slowly about, dismayed but enthralled. One's habits might reveal a great deal, but so did one's possessions. There were tankards, and plates of half-eaten food, and clothing tossed aside as too soiled or in need of mending, and debris, everything from dust to crumpled parchment to a much-abused but once-elegant peruque; but there were also fine, well-used instruments of navigation and many rolled up charts—with one beautiful specimen spread out upon the table, its corners weighted by a dish of fruit, an empty tankard, a conch shell, and a small gold statue of a naked man sitting cross-legged and grasping his outsized member with both hands (Oh my! thought Nell, cheeks burning); books everywhere, single spies and battalions, and some still on the shelves that were built into the bulkheads; and an array of objects large and small, on more shelves, or in baskets, or on the floor, or tacked to the walls, that could only be labeled souvenirs.
And there were weapons, of course: a rack holding three swords, with room for more; a brace of pistols in an open case; and a variety of knives, some of them in a Chinese vase, the rest lying loose and wickedly beautiful.
It was Jack's cabin, without a doubt: erratic, eccentric, intelligent, dangerous. Fascinating.
The ship gave a perceptible lurch and Nell squawked, jumping quickly down from the chair. Then, wondering at the strangeness and the rather amusing absurdity of her situation, she went to work.
TBC...
hereswith for beta reading, editing, and excellent suggestions.Previous bits...
| 1. Tortuga 2. Happiness 3. Festive 4. Last Minute 5. Calm 6. Truth 7. Bargain 8. Spook 9. Down 10. Wounds 11. Moon 12. Monsters | 13. Beauty 14. Name 15. History 16. Service 17. Advice 18. Captain 19. Awe 20. Cross 21. "You've made a big mistake" 22. Heroism 23. Gold 24. Echo | 25. Greed 26. Advance 27. Challenge 28. Adventure 29. Sentence |
And here's today's...
30. Treasure
~ An Execrable Business, continued...
The door closed and Nell, moving warily into the center of the cabin, realized Jack was given to understatement. From what she could see in the dim light, there was detritus of all sorts gracing the floor, the big table in the center of the room, a couple of the chairs, and spewing from a chest at the foot of the unmade bed that lay in the far corner, half-hidden by a fringed, brocade drape.
She took a deep breath. Let it out again, half-listening to the noises that came to her, faint but clear: Jack's voice and the thud of boots on the quarterdeck above and the myriad sounds of a ship preparing to set sail. Then, adopting one of Grandmother's tricks, she spoke to herself, firmly, aloud.
"Well. We'd best get started."
She went across to the gallery windows and drew the heavy, velvet drapes fully open, to catch the remaining light of dusk, and to watch the lamps of Tortuga fade behind when they should depart. Then she addressed the lanterns, which proved to have been merely turned down. Once Nell adjusted these (standing on a chair to reach), she could really assess the state of affairs.
Not good.
She turned slowly about, dismayed but enthralled. One's habits might reveal a great deal, but so did one's possessions. There were tankards, and plates of half-eaten food, and clothing tossed aside as too soiled or in need of mending, and debris, everything from dust to crumpled parchment to a much-abused but once-elegant peruque; but there were also fine, well-used instruments of navigation and many rolled up charts—with one beautiful specimen spread out upon the table, its corners weighted by a dish of fruit, an empty tankard, a conch shell, and a small gold statue of a naked man sitting cross-legged and grasping his outsized member with both hands (Oh my! thought Nell, cheeks burning); books everywhere, single spies and battalions, and some still on the shelves that were built into the bulkheads; and an array of objects large and small, on more shelves, or in baskets, or on the floor, or tacked to the walls, that could only be labeled souvenirs.
And there were weapons, of course: a rack holding three swords, with room for more; a brace of pistols in an open case; and a variety of knives, some of them in a Chinese vase, the rest lying loose and wickedly beautiful.
It was Jack's cabin, without a doubt: erratic, eccentric, intelligent, dangerous. Fascinating.
The ship gave a perceptible lurch and Nell squawked, jumping quickly down from the chair. Then, wondering at the strangeness and the rather amusing absurdity of her situation, she went to work.
TBC...