thoughtformed | [audio parrot]

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[audio parrot]

[ A large grey parrot has been making its way around town, perching on signs and the corners of roofs. It sings a merry little tune that sounds like whistling, almost as though it's calling for someone. It then says, ]

Little ghost! Little ghost! Why do you skulk around? Little ghost! We're not scared of you, so please come out and play. We won't harm you. Let's be friends, little ghost.

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You're being haunted?

Seeing things, Captain?

[There won't be a parrot response but when the sea is calm and the clouds already move sluggishly across the moon, when the mist rises and fog shrouds The Grey Lady and all sound is muffled and deadened, a visitor comes calling.

A slight figure, cowled and cloaked in shimmering white and clad in grey and white rags that shift as it moves, leaving little damp spots on the deck. It's never appeared in the same place twice, and this time it's a shadow across the captain's cabin window. The impression of a pale face with large eyes, and a tap tap tapping on the casement. Then it's gone, leaving only swirling mist in its wake.]

[ The captain looks up from his journal and stares a moment, having taken note of the strangely moving fog outside his window, seeing it even though the grime, seawater, and dust that had settled there. Curious, he stows his ancient and battered quill and rises to his feet to investigate the sound of the tapping against the pane. He takes a cautious step to the window and looks outward, removing his sidearm from the holster at his hip and cocking it before moving to the door to open it.

His pistol emerges first as a scout, and he pokes his head out next. Though he cannot die, the act is still painful and inconvenient, not to mention potentially dangerous for his crew, and especially for the hobbled man in his hold. ]

Who goes there?

[From up amidships comes a snatch of haunting melody in some language that's certainly not English. At first glance, there's no one there. Then, movement on the lowest spar. The small figure, edged in silver where the moonlight caught on its cloak - no, it wasn't a cloak. It was her hair. She kept herself close to the main mast, leaning against its solid bulk. She sang to him, softly, her voice lilting with a hint of those strange syllables behind her words.]

You asked for the ghost
Of the Lady Grey;
Why do you call her?
What have you to say?

[ The sight of her catches Jack off guard, and he rights his gun in the direction of the movement, squinting in the dim light of his lanterns and the moon to catch a familiar shape. After a moment of staring, he can tell the humanoid shape, but beyond that is a mystery. ]

I want to ask what it is that you're doing aboard my ship uninvited. I do not take kindly to those who wish to stow away or haunt my decks. Why have you come?

[She slips behind the shelter of the mast, but her voice still carries clearly.]

Why do you harbor those people hate?
Why treat them the way you do?
People who would have been killed-
People who you barely knew?

[ Jack's gun lowers a touch, and he frowns. ]

I cannot understand your meaning.

[ He advances in the direction of the voice, the main mast. Who is this person who teases him like this? ]

Who are you?

[She laughs, light and silvery, but covering a strange sadness that pitches it into a minor key.]

You called me a ghost-
why not, it's true-
a spirit without rest-
a bean sí - you knew.

[ In all of Jack's time sailing the seas, naturally he had heard tales of the monsters and ghosts of far off lands, even hearing of ones such as she. Or so he thought. He takes a step back, clearly startled by the news. He is pleased, however, to find her in a somewhat good mood at least. ]

A Banshee? [ He raises his gun again. ] What do you want with us?!

[Rather than growing louder, her voice softens to a point where it's almost hard to understand.]

Not for one of you, Captain,
no not for one of your crew.
I look for those gone before
and a way to help them, if I speak true.

I won't hurt you and yours
if you don't hurt me and mine
I just wanted to see
who gave witches a home so fine.

[ The gun lowers again. He hadn't expected a compliment from her, but seemed rather pleased that he got it. He even smiles a little. ]

If they cannot come here, then what home have they got? I sought solace in the sea... I thought perhaps I should give others a chance for a life of freedom as well.

[Hearing the change in tone, she peeps back out of her hiding place, an errant breeze playing with the ragged dress she wears.]

Witches stay in groups
or wander alone
chased by the stupid
without any home.

Why witches? Why them?
Who do you look for,
you who look so sad
and learn the old lore?

[ He smiles, just a touch when he spots her, and sweeps his arm into a short bow. ]

Because I too might be considered a witch. I seek my kin, and those who have known loneliness and suffering as I have. I have a life unending, and am much older than I appear. The old lore was not so old when I first heard it, little one.

[She has an old soul, behind the child's voice, and she remains wary of the gun even as she finds his smile and bow charming, and keeps back until his confession draws her out a little.]

You have no family?
No mother?

[ His head shakes, and his smile saddens a little. ]

No longer. I've no idea of her fate, for I left her many, many years ago. By now, she's little more than ash and bone. And yourself? I'm certain that she must be worried about someone so small running about on the ships of pirates so late at night.

[She shakes her head, all thoughtful sorrow, then she recognizes that she's slipped, no verse or rhyme last time.]

No mother, nor sister,
Father nor kin -
Just the waves and the moon
Till the veils grow thin.

[ His smile turns quickly into a frown. That wasn't something he was expecting. He drops to a knee, her height and frowns. ]

You are... all alone? Is that why you have come aboard The Grey Lady?

[She falls silent, watching him, then vanishes behind the mast, only to reappear peeping from behind the thing at ground level. She'd barely reach his sternum, if he were standing.]

How many would befriend a ghost?
They chase or shoot instead.
How many would help two with their task,
Or give them a home, a place, a bed?

Even ghosts need friends, little one. And I feel certain that anything you could do to me would not be as hideous as the curse laid upon me. I walk without fear of death, almost as a ghost would.

Don't be frightened. I mean you no harm.

[ The captain offers her his hand. ]

[She hesitates, her pose caught between advance and retreat.]

No one - especially not
one who lives upon the sea -
offer something for nothing.
What would you have of me?

Everyone earns their keep, love, and you would appear to have some truly remarkable talent in climbing. I bet I could make a fine sailor out of you if we started you young. I never said it would be free.

[A slight smile lightens her worry and straightens her spine, but she doesn't come nearer just yet.]

And what would you say
if there were two?
Lost souls that are left
of a wrecked ship and crew?

[ What a puzzling question. The captain raises an eyebrow and cocks his head before briefly glancing about. ]

Then I should like to meet with them if they are even half as talented and lovely as yourself. You are not alone?

[She shakes her head, insistent.]

Are you alone?
Always and never.
It must be safe
b'fore I hand you my tether.

[ Curious. It makes sense for her to be cautious, he supposes. He looks around, not seeing anyone in the immediate vicinity. ]

It is late. Everyone's either fast asleep or off on shore. You've nothing to fear from me, little one.

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