Captain Jack Sparrow placed the bottle which contained his beloved ship on his (temporary) desk and stared at it in frustration. He had been forced to commandeer another ship so that he could travel and find a way to get his ship, the Black Pearl, out of her imprisonment. But he had been sailing for 6 weeks, and still he had no idea of how to get her out. He had talked to all the mystics he could find, and they all just went into a funny kind of trance and mumbled nonsense. What he really needed was Tia Dalma…. But she she was now back in her god form, Calypso, and he had no idea how to get hold of her.

He sighed and took another swig from his bottle of rum, and then walked out on deck. The ship was quite a nice ship, but nothing compared to the Pearl. She was called the Gloria. He hadn't tried steering her himself yet, being too engrossed in attempting to think of a way of getting the Pearl out of the bottle. But now he felt like a distraction, and minding the wheel seemed like a good idea. So he walked up to Gibbs, who was steering at the time. "Mr. Gibbs!"

"Yes Cap'n?"
"I'll take the wheel now."
"You sure you got time, what with getting the Pearl out of her glassy cage?"
Jack sighed. The crew had made their discomfort clear about sailing on this new ship, and they were eager that he put all his concentration into getting the Black Pearl out of the bottle.
"This is my ship… at the moment anyway…. and I'm allowed to steer whenever I want to!"
Gibbs reluctantly let go of the wheel, and Jack took it and stared into the horizon longingly. Gibbs watched him curiously. Jack, realizing Gibbs was still there, turned and glared at him.
"What is it with you? Is poor old Jack not even capable of steering a ship anymore?"
"No, I mean yes of course, Cap'n. I was just…. Standing here. I'll be going now."
And Gibbs walked hastily in the other direction. Jack sighed and shook his head in disbelief. Not even allowed to steer me' own ship….

Angelica Teach was sitting on the sand, watching the golden sun disappear over the horizon. She had discovered that there was a whole crate of rum, left by traders most likely. And fish were plentiful; she was living on them entirely, cooking them over a fire. She looked down at her lap to see the small voodoo doll that had been washed up on the shoar. She picked it up and stared at it's tousled hair angrily. "Hmph. It's a pity you talk to people through these….". She didn't know why she hadn't even touched Jacks doll with an angry blow or anything like that; yet. She was strangely reluctant to hurt it… or him, she should say.

It was getting dark, and the sun was practically gone now…. so she sighed and gently placed the doll in its small bed of sand and leaves that she had made for it, for lack of anything better to do. Then she lay down herself on the warm sand, after placing her leather boots and tri-corner hat on top of a rock, and drifted off into a deep sleep….

She woke up the next day in a foul temper. A crab had bitten her on the toe, and she hadn't changed out of these clothes in over a month. And she was dead tired of fish. And she was running out of rum. And it was all HIS fault! She jumped up and walked over to the rock where she had left her effects. Then, to her horror, she realized that the tide had swept them away! She was now without a hat, or coat, or SHOES. Suddenly, an overwhelming surge of anger towards Jack surfaced. She stamped her bare foot like an angry child and screamed in rage! "I HATE YOU CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW!" she screamed at the bird that was settling on the rock in front of her. She grabbed her knife with shaking hands and lunged crazily at the poor thing. It squawked and flew away, unscathed, for her aim had not been very accurate in her anger. She stared after it in hate, and then turned and yanked the doll out of its safe haven, all notions of gentleness forgotten. Her hand shook and she placed it's worn face millimetres away from her own. "Right, no more nice Angelica!" and with that she placed her knife on it's throat. But by now her anger was cooling, and she still didn't feel she had the heart to kill him in a one angry swipe of the knife. Especially since he couldn't exactly fight back. So she decided that she wouldn't kill him right away, and then if he had any kind of a brain he would come and get her. But, if not, then she really would kill him…. So she very slowly brought the knife closer and closer to the dolls leg, before with one decisive twitch of the knife, she slashed it….