[ Jack hates the cold. He fled northern England for the Bahamas more than ten years ago now, and hasn't looked back. He doesn't miss the people, he doesn't miss the food, the doesn't miss the suffocating grip of authority, and he certainly doesn't miss the weather. Duplicity, sadly, has more in common in that arena with the place he grew up in than the one he chose for himself, so even layered up perfectly well, Jack peruses the vendors' stalls with his arms crossed tightly in front of him, bristling in the chilly breeze.
He goes for a hot chocolate, a richer, creamier drink than he remembers it being, and sets out to get himself a heavier duty scarf than the flimsy little cravats he usually sports. He should get one for Anne, too, something dark enough to hide blood stains... ]
Irving.
[ The pirate just happens to be passing by and admiring his new scarf, of course. ]
surprises, surprises...
He goes for a hot chocolate, a richer, creamier drink than he remembers it being, and sets out to get himself a heavier duty scarf than the flimsy little cravats he usually sports. He should get one for Anne, too, something dark enough to hide blood stains... ]
Irving.
[ The pirate just happens to be passing by and admiring his new scarf, of course. ]
You'll want to be careful with all that.