Well, that was not as bad as it could have been. He had been expecting- what? mockery, derision- from Sparrow, but indeed, the pirate seemed barely to be interested. But then, why should he be? What pirate would take any exceptional interest in the Commodore's education? He grimaced once again.
But then, Sparrow hesitates, his normal smugly confident demeanour giving way to something strangely awkward, and he looks at James, beginning to speak- and then the bell sounds, and he stops, whatever he was going to say immediately forgotten, and he leaps towards the door. After a moment of searching for the key (James had almost forgotten that Sparrow had locked the door the night before; had it really been only yesterday?), he opens the door with a click and exits with a cheeky smirk and a 'Stay there, now!' at James.
He scowls, knowing full well that he has no other choice, and knowing that Sparrow knows it as well.
Well, he is alone in the captain's cabin, so it makes perfect sense to begin a search of the place, see what he can find. He may be a captive of the pirate, but he is still a Commodore of His Majesty's Royal Navy, and he certainly can use his current position to his advantage if he plays it correctly. Carelessly tossing the book onto the recently vacated bed, he rises, feeling stiff, and casts about the room for a place to start.
It's difficult, as the place is utter chaos, so (carefully and quietly, so that he might hear Sparrow when he returns) he starts with the table. It's cleared, as it was the night before, save the empty bottle of port, listing aimlessly on its side atop the wooden surface. James removes it and places it on a shelf- with the movement of the ship, he was surprised it hadn't fallen to the floor and shattered already. But there below the table there is a great pile of maps and parchments, Sparrow's charts from previous and (hopefully) current journeys. James crouches down, leafing through them- there at the top is a crude map of the Isla de Muerta, not directions on how to get there, merely a drawing of the island itself. That does not interest him, however, and he continues. There are hand-drawn pirate-charts and letters as well as Navy-issue maps, and James swallows the irritation he feels at that- but none of it seems to be of any use to him. He curses quietly and gets up, taking care to make sure that the papers were all in the order they had started in.
Now what? Perhaps the corner of the room where the bookshelf resides- but wait. There are footsteps approaching the cabin, and James hastily spins around, taking a position leaning casually on the table as if he had been doing nothing but waiting for Sparrow this entire time.
no subject
But then, Sparrow hesitates, his normal smugly confident demeanour giving way to something strangely awkward, and he looks at James, beginning to speak- and then the bell sounds, and he stops, whatever he was going to say immediately forgotten, and he leaps towards the door. After a moment of searching for the key (James had almost forgotten that Sparrow had locked the door the night before; had it really been only yesterday?), he opens the door with a click and exits with a cheeky smirk and a 'Stay there, now!' at James.
He scowls, knowing full well that he has no other choice, and knowing that Sparrow knows it as well.
Well, he is alone in the captain's cabin, so it makes perfect sense to begin a search of the place, see what he can find. He may be a captive of the pirate, but he is still a Commodore of His Majesty's Royal Navy, and he certainly can use his current position to his advantage if he plays it correctly. Carelessly tossing the book onto the recently vacated bed, he rises, feeling stiff, and casts about the room for a place to start.
It's difficult, as the place is utter chaos, so (carefully and quietly, so that he might hear Sparrow when he returns) he starts with the table. It's cleared, as it was the night before, save the empty bottle of port, listing aimlessly on its side atop the wooden surface. James removes it and places it on a shelf- with the movement of the ship, he was surprised it hadn't fallen to the floor and shattered already. But there below the table there is a great pile of maps and parchments, Sparrow's charts from previous and (hopefully) current journeys. James crouches down, leafing through them- there at the top is a crude map of the Isla de Muerta, not directions on how to get there, merely a drawing of the island itself. That does not interest him, however, and he continues. There are hand-drawn pirate-charts and letters as well as Navy-issue maps, and James swallows the irritation he feels at that- but none of it seems to be of any use to him. He curses quietly and gets up, taking care to make sure that the papers were all in the order they had started in.
Now what? Perhaps the corner of the room where the bookshelf resides- but wait. There are footsteps approaching the cabin, and James hastily spins around, taking a position leaning casually on the table as if he had been doing nothing but waiting for Sparrow this entire time.
After all, no need to arouse suspicion just yet.