Log; Completed

[infidel-calypso.livejournal.com]

When; July 25th, backdated
Rating; G
Characters; Tia Dalma infidel_calypso and 1900 ships_pianist
Summary; 1900's ship, the SS Virginian springs a leak. Tia Dalma offers to fix it, but for a trade. 1900 trades something dear to his heart, and his talent. A song.
Log;


The sun rose merrily outside the porthole window onboard the ship 1900 called home. Today's sunrise marked a week exactly since he'd arrived, and already the man was becoming used to his new surroundings. Though he and he alone now lived aboard the SS Virginian, 1900 combated his loneliness by watching the passing, fascinating city-dwellers just barely visible to his eye.

Recently, however, he'd been forced to abandon his practice of solitude, and had to plead assistance from strangers to help him with a tear at the bottom of his ship. It wasn't a large hole by far, but the mere presence of it was enough to unsettle 1900's stomach. Slowly drowning as his ship filled up with water didn't ring with the appeal of early retirement.

And much to his surprise and delight, someone had answered his plea! It was this someone that 1900 now waited for by the gangplank, someone who had promised to help him and mend his poor rusty ship.

Resting his arms on the side railing, 1900 stood and waited for the mysterious woman named Tia Dalma.

The Witch had risen early that morning. The job she had--somewhatreluctantly--traded for was a fairly difficult task and would take mostof the morning. Silently, she cooked breakfast for her comrads and madeto leave. Glancing at her sleeping companions--one, a fair-haired boywith fitful dreams, one a dark-haired girl with fitful awakings, a manwith undying loyalty, and a woman--an ancient woman--beautiful, fair,and her dearest friend. She smiled to herself. When they awoke, theywould miss her. And it made her smile. Gathering a bag she packed thenight before, Tia Dalma quietly left her shop and home.

The trip to the shore was short. The air was crisp and the City wasquiet. Thankfully, there was no curse--so she could see--and had a verypeaceful stroll. It wasn't often the goddess found peace...not anymore.Not since she had been so forcefully returned to the prison sheloathed. Since she couldn't feel the sea...since she knew...uponreaching sand, she sighed. The waves, the air...so familiar. So faraway. 1900's ship was easy to find, of course. It looked nothing likethe ships of her time. And it had a calmingly old presence...old metalsthat had long known her water and salt...silently she approached, andgazed up at the massive metal walls.

1900 looked out at the morning rising over the sleepy City, his thoughts idly circling around his head. Briefly, he wondered if today his young friend Cedric would be stopping by for a visit or for lunch, as he did so often. As the receding tide slapped up against the side of the ship, 1900 gave a slight wince, imagining the water even then, filling up his ship, taking down his beloved home with him still on it, and swallowing up all trace of his existence.

At the briefest hint of movement in the corner of his eye, 1900 turned and looked to the small but intimidating presence of the Witch. Somehow, impossible to explain why, he knew this was the woman he was waiting for. He smiled, and quickly made his way partially down the gangplank, stopping before reaching halfway

Tia Dalma tilted her head lightly as the man started to walk. He walked like the waves moved under his soles--not through the hull of a ship. He belonged on the water. And she smiled. No wonder he has no ground in him. He's a thing of the sea. Tia saunted down the sand, and walked to the gangplank, standing at the bottom of it, gazing quietly at the man who called himself 1900. Of the sea, and of the world of music. She nearly felt nolstalgic. Nearly.

She nodded her head to the far younger man, a wide smile spreading her lips and inky teeth.

"Nineteen'udred."

1900 smiled brightly, and nodded back with the highest of respect. "Miss Dalma..Thank you for coming." He bowed, one hand folded behind his back. For in the company of a beautiful woman, he'd dressed in his best suit with tails, and slicked his hair back, something he'd seen in the magazines of fashionable gentlemen.

"Welcome to the SS Virginian." he extended his hand to Tia Dalma invitingly, eyebrows raised as if asking for her permission. A small but endlessly amused smile rested on his lips.

A short pleased chuckle left her throat as she took a few steps towards him. Charmer. She liked that.

"Tank ye, chile. She be a strange, sturdy ship, an it be her pleasure ta keep her well." She lightly slid her hand into his and bowed her head a second time. With this slight touch, she could feel him like flowing water. Naive--gentle--handsome--a simply adorable young tragedy and with a sweeter soul than he knew. Aged. Like his home. Tia Dalma -liked- him. She hadn't met a crimeless, sinless soul that so belonged on her crashing swell in so long...

1900 took the Witch's hand, and in that instant felt a ripple of electricity pass under his skin. He'd never known any sort of mother before: for most of his childhood, he'd naively assumed that a "mama" was a racing horse. But for some inexplicable reason, this woman felt to him like she'd been watching over him for his whole life. And he trusted her, not only to aid him in his moment of need, but also with his very soul.

This won him another smile. Normally, she was recieved with respect out of fear. Not out of -want-.

"O'course, dahlin'. Lead de way."
1900 gave a nod and a pleasant smile, and gently led Tia Dalma by the hand, up the gangplank and onto the deck.

"I apologize for the state of things on this ship, the entire crew has mysteriously vanished and I only have the time to clean up the rooms I live in. Normally, it's grand, and full of well-dressed people and poorly-dressed people and every sort of person you could possibly imagine.." He led her into the Grande Ballroom, cleared of all tables with the chairs stacked up against the wall. This left the piano standing alone, in the very center of the dimly-lit room.
Tia nodded lightly as he spoke, seeing the people in her minds eye, and feeling the energy and spirits echoing in such a large ship...it's size nearly shocked her. So gigantic, and forged of steel. How on earth did it stay up as long as it had.

Upon reaching the Ballroom, she paused lightly to gaze around. Oh, what light, frantic spirit this room had! Whirling spinning air, laughter and change--and her eyes fell upon the piano. Leaving 1900's side, the witch silently approached it, yet kept her distance as if it might try to harm her. Oh, how it reminded her of a time so long ago. Still her face stayed calm, her eyes alight, and a light smile on her face.

As they entered the Ballroom, 1900's face broke into a warm smile, releasing Tia Dalma's arm and walking around the piano, running his hand over the carved and painted wood. He reached the bench and, brushing his coattails aside, sat down in front of the keyboard.

He glanced up to the woman, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes, and leaned forward.

"You seem..very familiar to me, Madame. This might be the easiest task I've ever had to do." And he smiled.

Tia smiled warmly back and paced about, looking to the walls and ceiling.

"Ye flatter dis old witch, Nineteen'udred....'course...souls dat know eachodah in one life may know them in de next, and de next, and de next..." She watched him touch the instrument, brows creasing only slightly...and she turned, walking away a little, looking up at the swooping ceilings, walking with the rocking of the ship...

1900 nodded, but with little conviction behind it. Who was he to say what lay after death? But he still couldn't shake the feeling that Tia Dalma knew a deep, intimate part of him..and that she knew far more than she was letting on.

Lifting his hands up, he rested them on top of the keys, allowing his mind to go blank. He closed his eyes and allowed the silence of the room to consume him. He felt the warmth of the candles on top of the piano, and the soft breathing of both himself and the woman close by.

Listening to what his head and his heart and his very soul were screaming at him, his right hand picked up a soft, sad melody. And 1900 began to play.

Tia Dalma turned her head lightly to listen. Music touched a deep, hidden place in her heart...it was both painful, and delicious, light and crushing, true and full of so many beautiful lies...she loved music. And she loathed it just as deeply. And much to her shock, she turned to see the young piano player...

...it was so familiar...why was it so familiar...why was so it much like the song that haunted her aching human bones...

Bent over the piano, 1900 frowned, his eyes still closed. His right hand danced easily across the keys, producing the melody of a woman scorned, an imprisoned woman and the hurt and betrayal that surrounded her being. But though there was an underscore of anger and fury, the crux of the melody was that of loss and of longing...

And now his left hand joined his right, but it was to a different tone, one completely devoid of anything human, but one that followed the rhythm of the waves rocking the ship beneath their feet. he'd played it many times, but never in the context of a person before. When the waves rose, the sound grew and the notes flourished: and when the waves receded, the harmony was quiet, sullen, and declining.

Tia could only turn away and listen, clutching her shawl about her arms. It wasn't so very long ago...days...maybe months--it's too hard to count in this awful body. She was still one with the sea, back among the things she loved, everything that made her what and who she was...everything bit of her essence...

It all seemed so far away...

There was little she could do from shaking. This was the picture of her being...? Her life? To that of a child of her waters, this was how her existence sounded on his ears...? But to sound so much like HIS music for her! It was not fair...Still so beautiful...still so horrid.

Continuing to draw from within him the very essence of the fascinating woman in front of his piano, 1900 played as though it was his swan's song, as if every time he set fingers to keys had been leading up to his life's achievement. All at once, he knew who he was playing for, and could only do her the honor of pouring everything he had into a single piece of music in hopes of appeasing the witch.

He opened his eyes suddenly, knowing why she was so familiar to him. He was playing the Sea. And somehow this woman was connected, body and soul, to the untamable waters he had grown up on and never left.

Tia Dalma stood with her back straight, watching before her as if gazing at the long reaches of the ocean. All that she was and will be again, drifting through her being in one gentle saddened melody...she couldn't hide from him as a human. Not as a goddess. Not as anything.

The way Davy Jones once saw her is exactly as she -was-. The same way this poor child saw her...oh, harsh, changing sea...you are what you shall always be...

Finally, at long last, 1900 drew the melody to a close, his shoulders swaying gently along to an unheard beat. He turned to Tia Dalma as his hands fell away from the keys, looking at her intently, frowning as if trying to comprehend something impossible to understand.

To question her would be unthinkably rude. He got to his feet, closing the lid of the piano, and gave the woman a small nod, hopeful for her approval.

"I trust...my playing is to your liking." And he bowed his head in reverence, not quite knowing who she was, but feeling like he owed her far more respect than he had shown already.

A beat. She turned a knowing smile to him, like she knew a wonderful secret, and to guess it would surely be the greatest thing in all the world. But she wouldn't tell you. She would never utter a word.

"....Ye hae a gift, chile. Findin' de haht an' soul o'a poor old witch...just by layin' ye han's on sometin' like dis..." She lightly touched the edge of the piano. "...Aye, pet. It be to her likin'."

1900 bowed his head, and gave a small nod, a hopeful smile on his lips. "You're too kind.."

As he spoke, his ship gave a tiny, barely noticeble tilt. 1900 was only able to notice it purely because he'd grown up here and knew when something wasn't quite right. Thirty or so feet below them, the cracked hull was slowly but surely taking on water.

Tia eyes darted downward as the vessel leaned. It was by her pure somewhat severed connection with the sea, and a life on ships that she felt it. Even in such a large ship as the Virginian. Adjusting her bag lightly, she eyed 1900 with an ever-piercing eye, one corner of her mouth ticking upward.

"She believe it Tia's turn ta uphold her bargain. Mm?"

1900 turned to give Tia a warm, grateful smile.

"Would you, please? Otherwise, I may have no other alternative but drowning. And that could severely cut into my playing time."

Chuckling lowly, she stepped around the piano and over to it's young player.

"'Aiii, chile. She nae want those skilled hands losin' dey talent, now woul' she?"

He shook his head, giving another shy smile. "Shall I show you down into the engine room, then?"

She grinned widely, her left hand giving a lazy gesture. He was a sweet thing. "O'course. Where ye problem be."

He smiled back, walking around the bench to take Tia's hand once more. "This way, if you please", and led her from the ballroom, escorting the Goddess of the Seas through his very own ship.