Take Off Your Dress, Pick Up A Sword

a matter of leverage

"It'll linger," was Will's summary of Tortuga. Joanna, taking it in with wide eyes, was inclined to agree.

Jack, his eyes and beads glinting with firelight, was in his element. In Port Royal, he was an oddity of color and flailing hands; in the untamed backdrop of Tortuga, he was merely another prop. "I tell you, mate," he said, waving a pilfered gentleman's cane, "'f every town in the world was like this one, no man would ever feel unwanted -- Scarlett!"

The woman who approached, enveloped by a crimson dress that (rather fetchingly, Joanna acknowledged) showed off her bosom, replied to Jack's hail with a slap. A slip of surprised laughter escaped Joanna as Jack turned to them, red and shocked. "Not sure I deserved that," he said woefully.

Joanna had a chaffing reply on the tip of her tongue, but another woman was rapidly approaching, her powdered nose jutting into the air. Instead, Joanna said with a grin, "Look out."

Jack looked out. "Giselle," he greeted the pale woman.

Giselle's rejoining smile was sugary sweet. "Who was she?" She asked.

"What?" 

The second slap left Jack looking remorseful. "I may've deserved that," he denoted.

"Perchance, perhaps, possibly," Joanna said.

"Is the man you're taking us to going to slap you, as well?" Will asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"William," Joanna professed with impressed delight.

"Peas in a pod, you two are," Jack said derisively. He brushed past them haughtily. "C'mon, no time to waste."

Joanna and Will exchanged mutual exacerbated glances before following in the pirate's wake.

Tortuga certainly would linger. Joanna beheld it with brazen curiosity, shocked by some things, appalled by others, and intrigued by others still. She wasn't sure what to think of this strange, loud place, teeming with gaiety and turpitude.

She let herself be led, not quite paying attention to where Jack directed them, more concerned by the landmarks they passed. She noted a young woman like herself, pretty and petite, but clad in men's clothes as if she regularly committed such an act. While Joanna felt a tad ungainly in pants, this woman lounged with her compatriots without a care, guffawing and raising her drink to the gods. She caught Joanna's eye as she passed and winked. Both flattered and flustered, Joanna looked away.

The streets of Tortuga were tight and winding, packed like sardines with outlaws and seekers of merriment. Several people called out to Jack, some cursing him to all sorts of hells ("Back at you, mate!"), some cat-calling (women and men, Joanna was astounded to note -- and Jack replied cheerfully to all of them), and some offering him a drink. People hung out of windows and sprawled over railings, most in varying states of inebriation.

A particularly brave sod reached leeringly for Joanna as she passed by. She was unpleasantly startled from her enumerations and fled to Will's side, figuring his size and surly countenance would serve as protection. Not that she would admit that. "This is --" she began saying to him, but then stopped. "It's interesting," she decided.

"Repugnant," Will said shortly.

"Big word," Joanna remarked. "You're right, though; I don't think I've smelled anything quite like this before."

Armed with buckets of water, Jack, Joanna, and Will finally manifested over Joshamee Gibbs. Gibbs, a stout man with magnificent sideburns, was snoring into the side of a large pig.