pirate_jack: (knowing smile)
He slips out the lake door and meanders in the direction of the Caribbean inlet, humming to himself.

The lad's done a fine job of work. The ship's ready, not only to sail but to fly; now all that's needed is to complete the crew, and then--

Jack Sparrow grins fiercely at the thought.

(This time, he's not told anyone what he's planning. He'd learned that lesson after entrusting Hector with the location of Cortez's treasure.

Just as well it'd turned out to be cursed.)

Still humming, wickedly pleased with himself and the world at large, Jack strolls on toward the lake.
pirate_jack: (knowing smile)
The dinghy's leaking again, and it's a ways yet to the nearest shore.

Between the bailing and the cursing, Jack's gotten a steady rhythm going.
pirate_jack: (sunrise sets flash of green)
The island where he puts in for the night is tiny and unpopulated, but Jack doesn't mind. He's humming as he lowers the dinghy's sail and anchors her securely in a sheltered little cove, then splashes through the breaking surf to the beach.

Once there, he finds a flat rock and carefully unrolls his prized map once more, then adjusts the inner ring.

"Now where d'ye think it'd be hidden -- makes no manner of sense at all for there not to be one," he explains, although it's not quite clear whether he's talking to himself, the open air, the waves behind him, or any or all of these together. "'Course it's here. Beyond the edges of the map, aye? And seeing as how it's beyond the edges of all the maps--"

Something catches his eye; some small combination of lines that looks like nothing more than a squiggle, but Jack brightens.

"Ah-HA!"

He rolls up the map again and stows it safely inside his coat, then snaps open his compass and eyes it. One step forward, followed by three awkwardly stretched strides to the northeast--

--and then Jack Sparrow grins wickedly and snaps the compass shut once more.

He lets it fall back to his side as he saunters behind a rock outcropping, singing aloud,

"Devils and black sheep and really bad eggs, drink up--"

Strangely enough, the song cuts off there.
pirate_jack: (they sank it burning)
As he's shoved into the cabin, Jack sways and takes a moment to recover his balance, casting a quick glance around the room-- and spotting the man who stands on the far side of it, with his back to the door as he looks out the window. The pose is studiously precise, and the corners of Jack's mouth twitch with a tiny, knowing smile.

Haven't changed a bit, have you, mate?

"Curious. Your friends appear to be quite desperate, Jack. Perhaps they no longer believe that a gathering of squabbling pirates can defeat the Flying Dutchman."

Beckett doesn't bother looking at him, and Jack doesn't bother answering. Instead, he takes advantage of the other man's practiced speech to start searching through boxes and tins left lying on the nearby tables, into tankards and chests. It won't be here, he's reasonably certain-- but then again, he knows well just how much the other man likes to keep valuable prizes under his close, personal control.

He knows very well. Better than most could even imagine.

"And so despair leads to betrayal. But you and I are no strangers to betrayal, are we?"

Jack glances at the brand on his arm, and says nothing.

There's a small, exasperated sigh as Beckett turns around.

"It's not here, Jack."

And at this, Jack turns around as well, meeting the other man's eyes for the first time in years.

"What? What isn't?"

"The heart of Davy Jones," Beckett informs him, matter-of-factly. "It's safely aboard the Dutchman, and so unavailable for use as leverage to satisfy your debt to the good captain."

Beckett's thin, self-satisfied smile -- I know exactly what you're thinking, and I know why you're thinking it, I know everything about you, Jack-- is clear.

So is Jack's answering smirk.

You always did like to boast, mate.

Jack strides across the cabin toward the far side, drawling pointedly, "By my reckoning, that account has been settled."

It's the other business -- between them -- that's still left unfinished, after all.

"By your death?" A measured beat. "And yet here you are."

Jack swings round from contemplating a large portrait of Beckett in a lordly pose, with the flag of the East India Company waving like a banner above him, and gives him a wickedly knowing grin.

"Just close your eyes and pretend it’s all a bad dream. That’s how I get by."




"Perhaps you'll consider an alternative arrangement? One which requires absolutely nothing from you but information."

Beckett offers Jack a small glass of sherry, in prelude to carrying out the all-too-familiar and entirely proper social ritual shared by men of business during cordial negotiations, but Jack looks away.

As he does, his gaze falls on Beckett's desk, where an army of lead soldiers stands rigidly aligned on top of a series of maps and charts. A neat row of silver circles lies at the edge of the map before the miniature army.

Pieces of eight.

Jack turns back to Beckett and plucks the glass of sherry neatly from his hand-- and then takes Beckett's glass, as well, as the other man moves to raise it to his lips.

"Regarding the Brethren Court, no doubt. In exchange for fair compensation."

Jack downs his own glass in a single swallow, then continues,

"Square my debt with Jones..."

He pauses to drain Beckett's glass, while the other man sighs.

"Guarantee my freedom."

"Of course." Beckett proceeds to refill the glasses, then glances up at Jack. Pointedly.

"It's just good business."

Their eyes meet-- and hold.

Good business.

The meaning of that is just one more thing that they've never agreed on.

Perhaps the most important thing.




Jack picks up the small leaden figure of the army's admiral, studying it with interest. It's carefully crafted, from the white wig on its head down to the buttons on its coat, and matches the appearance of the man in the portrait behind him to every possible detail.

Always knew there was no end to your ambition, mate.

"Were I in a divulgitory mood," he says, slowly, "What then might I divulge?"

"Everything." The hunger in Beckett's voice is both unfeigned and impossible to hide. He takes a step closer to Jack, then another, lowering his voice.

"Everything. Where are they meeting? Who are the Pirate Lords?" His glance flickers up to Jack's at this, suspicious and half-expectant as he pauses-- but Jack says nothing. Beckett leans close to Jack then, breathing his final question in a rough whisper practically into the pirate's ear.

"What is the meaning of the nine pieces of eight?"

Jack Sparrow turns his head, and looks down at Cutler Beckett from a mere few inches away.

I have something you want.

Slowly, wickedly, he smiles.

Let the negotiations begin.




"You can keep Barbossa." On the other side of the cabin, Jack turns around, fanning himself with a fan of black Spanish lace, and starts back toward Beckett-- who's now seated behind his desk, listening to this proposal with interest.

"The belligerent homunculus and his friend with the wooden eye, both. And Turner."

Jack snaps the fan shut and lets his exasperation show as he growls,

"Especially Turner." A beat. "The rest go with me aboard the Pearl and I’ll lead you to Shipwreck Cove, where I will hand you the pirates and you will not hand me to Jones."

He opens the fan again and resumes fluttering it about as he concludes, "Bloody fair deal, don’t you think?"

Cutler Beckett doesn't answer immediately. He turns one of the pieces of eight over in his fingers, watching as it gleams silver in the light.

"And what becomes of Miss Swann?"

Jack sets the fan to one side and leans forward, eyeing Beckett with speculation.

"What interest is she to you?"

Beckett chuckles once under his breath, and gives Jack a small, enigmatic smile.

They both know the answer to that.





"But, Jack--"

There's real pleasure in his voice as Beckett stands up, smirking, and crosses the room.

"I've just recalled. I've got this wonderful compass which points to whatever I want!" A beat. "So for what do I need you?"

Standing still in front of Beckett's desk, Jack allows himself to roll his eyes before he turns around to see the other man holding out the compass on his extended hand.

It's familiar, as he'd known it would be.

Good work, William.

He shakes his head at Beckett. "'S not how it works, mate. It points to the thing you want most. And that's not the Brethren Court, now is it?"

It's clear Beckett doesn't like being corrected as he grits out, "Then what is, Jack?"

Jack grins at him.

"Me!"

A pause.

"... dead."

A longer pause.

"Damn." Evidently it's agreement, as Beckett tosses the compass back to Jack, who promptly tosses him the fan in return. As Beckett flicks it open and begins to fan himself, a thought appears to strike him.

"Although... if I kill you, then I can use the compass to find -- Shipwreck Cove, is it? – on my own."

He lifts a small nickel-plated pistol and cocks it, advancing on Jack.

"Cut out the middleman, as it were."

Not this again--

Jack spreads his hands and advances in his own turn, circling around Beckett as he points out,

"With me killed, you'd arrive at the Cove to find it's a stronghold, nigh impregnable and able to withstand blockade for years-- and I'm not sure you have that kind of time, do you, mate?"

Beckett lifts the barrel of the gun slightly and takes a step back as Jack closes the distance between them, looking down at him.

"And then you'd be wishing, 'Oh, if only there was someone I had not killed, inside, to ensure that the pirates then come outside.'"

Silence, for several seconds.

"And you can accomplish all this, can you?" Beckett sounds wary, but intrigued.

Jack grins at him in knowing satisfaction, then steps backward and says,

"You may kill me, but you may never insult me. Who am I?"

Beckett looks blankly at him and shakes his head, and Jack is visibly startled.

"...I’m Captain Jack Sparrow!"

Unfortunately, whatever answer Cutler Beckett might have made to this assertion is lost forever, as it's at this point that the wall explodes.

pirate_jack: (it's a dry heat)
As the ropes that bound the Black Pearl to the Flying Dutchman had tightened, drawing her down, Jack had wound his left hand in a lanyard and clung to his ship with grim determination.

He'd been through this before, after all.

(I can't leave her like this)

(You're gonna owe me)


(Don't make me let her go alone)


At first it had been the same, or near enough. The sea had rushed over them, all three -- the Pearl, her captain, and young Wellard trapped in the rigging above -- and the light had filtered down through the water like slowly falling gold as they were dragged behind the Dutchman, into the cold black depths.

"Not so bad," Jack had muttered, or tried-- only a muffled noise escapes, along with a single small bubble of air. He gritted his teeth and tried again, stubbornly. "Not so bad at all, come to that. Could be worse. Besides, not like I can't swim--"

Almost on the heels of the words, a low rumble had passed through the water, much like a low, cruel laugh. It had been followed by the Black Pearl's pained shudder as the harpoons were pulled roughly from her sides, the Dutchman leaving her behind now, crippled and sinking.

And as the last bit of brightness had vanished, consumed by the crushing dark... everything changed.


(a captain goes down with his ship do you fear death that dark abyss one hundred years before the mast you have a debt to pay to the locker with ye!)





The
Pearl
goes down,

spiraling,

spinning,


f

   a

     l

      l

       i

        n

         g


through darkness and then into an unearthly gray mist, turning end over end, black sails billowing wildly in the wind of her passing.

Lashed as he is to his ship, Jack's secure enough, but the violence of the fall jerks Wellard free of the tangled rigging and sends him spinning helplessly through the air--

(man overboard!)


--over the side, beyond Jack's desperately flailing grasp and away, lost to sight in an instant as the Black Pearl continues to tumble,

down,


down,


d

o

w

n...



...WHUMP.





"Now what do you suppose we have here?"

Squinting at the sudden glaring brightness, Jack manages to untangle himself from the lanyards and lines and staggers to the railing, looking down over the side at the-- desert?

Black eyes widen in sudden panic.

"Where's the sea? Where's the water?"

There's no answer, but a second's glance is all it takes to confirm it. Desert it is; white salt flats stretching as far as the eye can see, with nary a spot of green or blue save for the harshness of the unrelenting sky above. There are no clouds, no shade-- save only for the bleak shadow of the Pearl herself, jarringly dark against the cruel bone-bleached land; no sound, no movement, not even a breath of wind.

Nothing stirs.

"Bugger." Jack shakes his head, and the sound of beads clattering against each other is unnervingly loud in the stillness. "Got a long walk ahead of me, I do."

There's still no answer. He shrugs and swings himself over the side on a rope, his boots thudding heavily against the parched ground as he lands. He flips open his compass and looks down at it in something of resigned dismay as it spirals back and forth in an unceasing circle.

"No help at all." It comes out as a disgusted growl, and Jack snaps it shut again, then looks up at the Pearl and touches two fingers to his hat in a jaunty salute.

"I won't be long, luv-- just as long as it takes to reach the shore and back--"

He turns and saunters off--

(couldn't leave her lost before either)


--all of ten steps before he's jerked back as if still tethered to the
Pearl
.


Jack whirls around, staring up at his ship. Long moments pass before he walks slowly back to her side. He reaches up, running brown fingers absently over black wood as he murmurs,

"Looks like it's to be you and me together for the long haul, luv."

He turns again, scanning the bare, empty horizon before concluding, bleakly,

"... just the two of us."
pirate_jack: (bring me that horizon)
It's early evening, and the light breeze stirs the ratlines and lanyards, whispering of secrets and far-off lands.

(bring me that horizon)

Even as the coy little wind rattles the beads in his hair against each other, Jack's all too well aware that it's not quite strong enough to do more than tease the edges of the Black Pearl's sails. He stands on deck, one hand resting lightly on the railing, and looks out toward the bar.

If he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that the Pearl's just in port somewhere, and that if he turned around he'd see the long wide expanse of the ocean stretching out toward the sky.

Almost.
pirate_jack: (him precious pearl - looking up)
There's a yardarm on the Black Pearl that's too cracked to hold the weight of the sails. That's not good. It's not good at all, and it's been bothering him all winter.

(When he thinks too much about it, Jack notices an ache in his own shoulder -- as though he's got a long-unhealed wound to match that of his ship. That's interesting, that is, but there's not much he can do about it, so he doesn't think about it all that often.)

As soon as the weather warms enough that he's not going to freeze while exploring, Jack takes off into the forest, in search of a tall straight tree, seasoned and strong-- one that'll be a suitable replacement for the broken yard.

Of course, Jack Sparrow's a man of the sea. He wasn't expecting the forest to be quite this odd.

Or to be gone this long.

Not that he's entirely sure how long it's been, anyway.
pirate_jack: (she's only a ship)
He hadn't slept. All through the long, long night, Jack Sparrow had alternated between relentlessly pacing the confines of his cabin and the deck of the Black Pearl.

At first, his steps had been illumined by the cold flame of Lyon's lantern. He hadn't needed it to find his way, not on his own ship-- no, Jack had carried it along with him for light. But although the lantern-fire itself never flickered, each swaying motion of the pirate's gait had caused it to glitter silver-white at the corner of his vision, and cast strange gleaming shadows over the decks.

(pyreflies)

That hadn't helped. Eventually he'd hung it back up on a hook, and continued on his way.

He'd thought he'd known what to expect-- despite the girl's concerned warning,

(the dead are trapped - tortured spirits - you might feel it happening)

Jack hadn't been overly concerned. Wary, aye, even cautious -- it's why he'd distracted Wellard with a story quickly spun and sent Gibbs away until the thing was done -- but not worried. He'd already had it on good authority as to what lies beyond, after all.

(wasn't much of anything - the endless dark)

And it'd never been the sort of thing to appeal to a man like Jack Sparrow, now more than ever.

But then had come the ghostly wind, pulling at his hair and clothes and singing through the Pearl's rigging, followed quickly by the glorious rainbow of light from every plank of her, and then the voices.

(yo ho a pirate's life for me)

Soft and coaxing, with a familiar sultry accent and teasing lilt, carrying the feel of an ocean breeze and the smell of the salt spray, they'd beckoned to him, promising the open sea, promising adventure, promising warm winds and far shores and above all freedom.

(bring me that horizon)

He'd nearly been driven to his knees with both desperate relief and crushing loss as the wild fountain of light had faded with the passing of the shark. He'd stayed at the wheel as the lass had gone back ashore, and as twilight faded into darkness, trying to come to grips with one simple, unutterable, impossible thing.

For the first time in his life and beyond it, Jack had felt his ship, his Pearl, his dream, his treasure

(she's only a ship)

anchoring him with the weight of an iron chain.
pirate_jack: (black pearl under the moonlight)
The Black Pearl is decked out with true holiday gaiety. Spell-driven St. Elmo's fire still dances along the yardarms, but the glow is even brighter now with the addition of white fairy lights strung along every available piece of rigging-- every one of them gleaming with festive cheer. Fairy lights also adorn the ropes that have been run from post to post along the floating pier, guiding people safely along the path to the ship.

Squishy sprays of mistletofu dangle here and there, adding a distinct presence of their own, along with a few sprigs of perfectly normal mistletoe that have somehow also been put up. Red-berried holly and evergreen picked in the woods wreaths through all the railings and around the masts and even twines through the ship's wheel, adding a splash of bright color.

Along the starboard side of the main deck Rachel Grey has outdone herself, arranging a catered buffet with a variety of soy-based drinks, coffee and otherwise, along with tofu salads, tofu wraps, and small triangular sandwiches with the crusts cut off. At some point in the proceedings, Jack had pointed out the never-emptying barrel of rum in his cabin office, and that's been brought out as well to provide a spirited form of holiday cheer that goes particularly well in soy-nog, not to mention on its own.

The door to Jack's cabin office has been locked, and the stairway leading belowdecks has been roped off to prevent intrusion -- but aside from that, the rest of the Black Pearl is ready and waiting for the arrival of the holiday guests.
pirate_jack: (Default)
From here.

"Steady on, lad," Jack mutters, supporting Wellard as the two of them cross first the shore and then the floating pier to the Black Pearl.

They stop there, as Jack looks up the sea-ladder with a frown.

"Can you climb?"
pirate_jack: (black pearl)
Okay! The purpose of this post is so that people can be aware of the current condition of the Black Pearl-- especially the current residents (Jack, Gibbs; Wellard has quarters reserved for his use, as well, although that's more of an occasional thing).

Current Status - updated 4/13/07 )

Update #2, 10/19/06 )

Update #1, 9/13/06 )

Original Status )
pirate_jack: (him precious pearl - looking up)
Jack's been on deck for some time. It's late, now, and everything's gone quiet and still.

If he leans back against the rail, Jack finds, and looks up past the wheel at the sail above him rather than at the sky itself, then he doesn't have to notice that even the stars are oddly changed here.

Everything's different, at the end of the world.
pirate_jack: (looking at maps)
Ninety-nine souls.

Three days.


They're not all that far from Tortuga, and the Pearl's making all possible speed with the wind toward port.

Jack's in his cabin, brooding over his charts.

Three days.

Not much time at all, really.
pirate_jack: (jack and the blue sky)
He'd been right, as it turned out.

Once in past the rows and rows of knife-sharp teeth, the belly of Jones's terrible beastie had been soft and unprotected. Trapped there in the foul dark, with the last seconds of his life to be measured only by how long he could hold his breath, Jack Sparrow had set to with furious vengeance. He'd fought as hard as he could, slashing and slicing and stabbing in all directions, blind in the blackness and yet grimly determined all the same.

Unused to food that bit back, the kraken had given a horrible echoing cry and vomited him out before disappearing into the depths-- badly wounded, maybe even dying.

He doesn't know.

It doesn't matter.

What matters is that the kraken had let go of the Pearl as it fled, leaving her masts unsnapped and her hull intact. What matters is that he's still there with his ship, one hand tangled in a piece of rope and both of them entirely surrounded by the warm embrace of the sea.

At this depth, the sunlight filtering down through the water looks like a shining Spanish doubloon. As the Black Pearl slowly continues to sink, Jack watches the bright golden coin recede into the distance above, out of reach.
pirate_jack: (captain jack sparrow)
First things first: I was absolutely stunned and delighted by how many people expressed interest in helping us run through canon. Thank you, all of you, for that! I know I'm already having a lot of fun with this, and I hope that everyone else will as well.

Now, after poring over interests, schedules, general availability, background familiarity, and discussing with other active PotC-muns, I've come up with a hopefully-final version of the Cast List. This was not an easy thing to do, just so everyone knows -- there were several situations in which the same people said they'd like to play the same role, and I want it known for the record that those of you who were not cast would still have done an incredible job, I'm certain. Likewise, those of you who were cast are going to be brilliant -- I'm certain of that as well.

Please be aware that casting here is not the same as either reserving the character or apping the character for playing in [livejournal.com profile] milliways_bar. This is an NPC role, not an "official" in-bar application. Although you are more than welcome to apply for a PotC character in the bar when apps open again, this plot is not part of that process.

DMC Cast List: Results )

If anyone named here has since discovered conflicts of time/schedule/interest such that you wish to have your name removed from the list of participants, please leave a comment or contact me directly via AIM (Aspenx3) or email (aspen at silveraspen dot net), and I'll take care of it.

Everyone else? Please go here (while logged in to the journal listed with your name above) for further information on backstory and plot, as well as a proposed schedule and an outline.

Thanks again, all of you!
pirate_jack: (black pearl with patched sails)
No one's entirely certain just how long they were battered by wind and wave, but at last, it's over. The storm is past.

Jack's gamble had worked. The wind that filled the Pearl's sails at the last desperate moment, the high spiraling wind that had whirled 'round the very eye of the hurricane itself, had given them the speed and line that they needed to break free of the storm, which has gone on now into the distance beyond them-- almost as quickly as it had risen.

There's no sign of Norrington; no sign of any other ship but the Pearl, at the moment. The sky has cleared, and the sea's becoming calm once more.
pirate_jack: (black pearl)
They've sailed from Tripoli to Singapore, the Horn to the Hope, Bombay to Tortuga and more. Weeks, even months of travel in the normal course of things, all compressed through the use of the astrolabe's magic to cheat both time and space.

(tempus frangit)


They'd spent the previous night celebrating in port, in Tortuga. The crew had scattered quickly to spend a goodly portion of their coin in drunken carousing. Jack had led his "guests" into his favorite tavern-- where Svava's blonde beauty had attracted a great deal of interest.

Not for long, however, as Archie's first and only question to the barkeep had been,

"Are the beds clean?"

Upon receiving both a hearty affirmative and a room key, he'd turned and taken his wife in his arms, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. The two of them had vanished upstairs while Wellard looked on in shock at this much of a breach in propriety, blushing furiously.

Jack had just grinned and snagged a bottle of rum for himself, then slung an arm around the lad's shoulders and led him off to another table.

"Allow me to explain, son."




A day later, the Black Pearl is back under normal sail once more, en route to the Isla de Muerta. There, the rest of the treasure will be safely stored away, and the three visitors from Milliways will cross the portal to return to the bar.

In contrast to how the weather has been for the last few days, the sky at the moment has turned surprisingly clear, with a strong following wind and gently swelling seas.

Of course, the easy sailing means that Jack's got plenty of time to continue his explanation.
pirate_jack: (tempus frangit)
The surge of magic that whirled around them with the turning of the ring carries through and carries them onward, spinning wildly around them and spinning time itself in the process as they go through the door.

(a pirate's life for me)

He's laughing still as all four of them cross the portal from Milliways into the cave on the Isla de Muerta, but then he turns to face the others. Wicked mischief and an odd sort of pride are evident in his flashing smile and his overly elaborate, swaying bow.

"Welcome to the Caribbean, mates."

Just barely visible through the mouth of the cave, if one were to look, the Black Pearl can be seen lying at anchor in the bay beyond.
pirate_jack: (Default)
Hi, everyone, and thanks in advance for your interest!

We've got some work to do, in a combination of threads and probably ficlets too, to run through the events of Dead Man's Chest for Millicanon purposes-- including the Unexpected Character Development that all three of our active in-bar characters (Norrington, [livejournal.com profile] scourgeofpiracy; Elizabeth Swann, [livejournal.com profile] try_corsets; and Captain Jack Sparrow, [livejournal.com profile] pirate_jack) are now faced with.

Unfortunately, the powers that be didn't see fit to conveniently cast Milliways-personnel for the film's roles, and so we've got a number of NPCs that are going to be needed.

Now, some of you have already expressed interest in a particular role or roles, and I've got that noted down here and elsewhere insofar as I know things currently -- still, I'm asking you to comment in again anyway, so that I can be absolutely certain. I'll be updating the list very frequently. Should we have more than one person interested in the same role, I will be talking to everyone involved to see if we can come up with the best-fit solution for all, based on things like schedules and familiarity with both moviecanon and Millicanon, since we've got two years of in-bar backstory and two canon crossovers to work with here, and will then make a decision based on that.

Pre-playing will start ASAP, probably no later than this weekend, with the idea of posting the first OOM threads to the bar on August first and running through movie events in fairly short order; i.e. no more than two weeks at the absolute most. There's an outline, which will be unlocked to all participants as soon as we have them. If you do not have the time to commit to that schedule -- I know it's pretty close, and I'm sorry -- then I must ask that you please, please do not volunteer.

Now, for anyone who's still around and reading, I present the list! Remember, spoilers are beyond the link. Please comment in with the character you are interested in as well as a rough idea of your schedule, and whether or not you are familiar with the Millicanon. Comments are screened for privacy purposes.

Thank you all, in advance!

DMC Cast List )
pirate_jack: (Default)
If you have a question for any of my characters, leave it here, and they'll answer.

First, the long-term four:
Captain Jack Sparrow ([livejournal.com profile] pirate_jack)
Moiraine Sedai ([livejournal.com profile] blue_ajah)
Gabriel Tam ([livejournal.com profile] gabriel_tam)
Blodwen Rowlands, the White Rider ([livejournal.com profile] white_flowers)

The newest two:
Lucius Portsmouth ([livejournal.com profile] bird_not_buddha)
Megwyn, Companion of Valdemar (adopted 11/05) ([livejournal.com profile] not_a_horse)

Gone, but not forgotten:
Susan Delgado Allgood ([livejournal.com profile] sai_delgado)
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