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[21 Dec 2007|06:14pm] |
Who: Will Turner (Open)
Where: Middle of the Pacific Ocean, New York/The Mansion
When: Mid Afternoon
Rating: PG
The wind said something different today as he stirred his ship casually. It whispered to him of something coming as it passed past his head and into the sails. He opens his eyes and watches the sails breathe in and out and he tilts his head in curiousity.
"Smith! Take the helm." he orders one of his men and hands it off to the old man before moving to walk down the stairs and over to the edge of his ship. He leans over and looks at the water. It wasn't the call of the souls that was different. He straightens up again and closes his eyes to relisten to the wind. Something was different.
He opens his eyes and heads for his quarters. Once there, the door is shut behind him as he makes his way to his desk. Head tilt again. There was a letter there that wasn't there that morning. He walks around his desk and sits down to pick up the letter to read. He reads the letter and blinks. Reads it again and chuckles before folding it back up and putting it back in its envelope. A punk from one of his crew. He should have known.
Though, when he stood to go back outside to question the men about who left the letter, he felt sick to his stomach. He sways a bit and holds onto his desk for support. This was weird. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He was- Woah. He blinks and takes a step away from his desk and prompty does a face planet to the floor.
When he wakes, dear William was in a house. He sits up slowly as he rubs his head. "Where? Where am I?" he asks outloud as he looks around. So, this was the something different.
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