Iron Bess

With every breath I take.

I'm not at all surprised. Without doubt, he is one of the most decent folks it's every been my pleasure to work with. A true gentleman. (Even if he was a mite confused in the commissary...) A happy day for you to be sure!

What??? No pictures??

Ooooh, go aheag now and bring 'em along. I be after need'n fresh bait!!

Not Disney union wench! LOL! I mean the film unions like SAG. THey won't hire anyone that isn't SAG and if they do it cost them a fortune in fines. (You silly!)

Yes, something has been said. Yes, someone is trying to rattle a few chains. So far so good at keeping my nose clean. I have the wonderful support of one of the film's actors so that makes me feel ebtter. yes it was someone that posts here and other places that unfortunately got caught up in the moment. Let's face it, knowledge is power and at that moment she was swept up with the need to be powerful. With any luck the lad that could cause me grief will have his head in a fog for some time to come when it comes to this issue (thanks be to my adorable, married Witchy friend who sent her love and support and spellwork!) so I have hope. But the fact still is that this soul has ruined it for everyone else because from now on your info will have to come from other places. Like.... the writers message board or such like.

Thanks to all of you that have sent support both publicly and privately... I'm not sure which way the wind will blow with this yet however I am very grateful you all understand. I doubt anyone could have seen this coming. I just... don't understand it. (sigh)

Sorry everyone. As if I don't have enough upheavel right now, it was brought to my attention today that at a Pirate event this last weeks end, someone was openly sharing what should have been private information. And all this in front of someone that is related to the President if Walt Disney pictures who, I understand, took a GREAT deal of exception to this information being told. Private, story board issues and the Gods know what else. (sigh) It befuddles me no end. So, since losing my job is not an option as a cost for keeping you all up to date with what is going on, I'm really sorry but from now on the matter will have to be a closed one. I am, really, really sorry and think it's just unfortunate all around. And if this DOES come back and bite me.... you'll all be the first to know.

Pictures. Post pictures when you can!! :)

Not to fret.... There is no sign of this yet. We just brought in 4 new production deals to work on new projects for us. And yes, POTC 2 and 3 are beyond safe. We are moving director and staff into offices as we speak.

Ahhh.... and you all heard it here first. I love it when things get validated.

Although that is an old bit of information it is, in effect, still true. Ther script is not yet done. No one not in the union will be hired. All of the cast (including Jack's and Barbossa's crew are being asked back so they will not need new people for that. If there is an open casting of any kind I will post it here for you.

It's a home faire for mself and the Port Royal Privateers. I'll be there!

Indeed, I had over 40. Just deleted the lot.

Now, now... don't be taken offence here lad. Folks like to voice their opinions 'tis all. and thank the Sea Gods that we are free to do so here. Within reason of course. I know allot of people like that sort of thing. Other's find it unentertaining. It was very sherrod timing to release it when there was really not much else out there to compete with AND at the start of summer when more youngsters were out of schol and were free to hit the screens. Really, it's all about tiiming and not always about movie quality.

I thought they locked the doors on those screenings so nobody can escape? With movies costing $10/person I don't see too many in the theater. My dear girl.... ...for something the dreadful I would have shot the lock of'n the doors. I didn't have too though, it was a studio screening and we could come and go as we wished.

Ooooooooooo.... I sat through 20 min of a screening and left. Sorry, I didn't care for it at all.

You GO girl!!!

(chuckle) Oh well, Barris has a long history of being pretty head strong AND the possessor of a really nasty streak when it comes to getting what he thinks he needs. I edited some of the torture but mostly story line since you'll not be after know'n the end and all of it anyways. I'll leave it as Barris is a hard mad to reason with but he in no way views himself as a cruel man.

A replica? Of what? The Ship?? Oh, of course. It was rented for the filming.

Hey!! That's m'family yer talking about!! I've seen plenty worse pirate movies then Swashbuckler... and the ship, the Golden Hinde, (Originaly the Blarny Cock) is often on display throughout CA harbors. She was up in Frisco for a Looooooong time.

Okay, mates.... here be a little (considerably edited) bedtime tale of suffering and such like. (Copyright: Random House) ********************************************************** From a table that stood just behind, Barris took up a thin, razor sharp knife in his gloved hand and proceeded to make narrow, precise incisions in his victim’s flesh. He began the disfigurement just beneath the binding strap across the shoulders, moving downward at great ease along the chest and belly until reaching and moving into and along the sensitive skin of the groin and genitals. So keen was Barris’ mastery of his blade that the cuts bled very little and the writing recipient of his skills was soon covered with fine red lines as if his body had been adorned by an artist’s brush. Barris continued at his task with such deliberate slowness that is was some time before he had to pause for fear of allowing his prisoner to succumb to death much to early in the proceedings. Barris would have him to die in an hour other then this… While Barris waited, he supported himself on the table’s edge with a tight grip that was born of some inner anger that he only now realized, seemed to be growing in him. He leaned over the warrior’s face that he might hear him more clearly. “Reconsider.” Barris said to him. “Tell me who would have you to murder the King’s brother.” It was apparent that the man bound on the table was beyond the capability of speech. His head rolled from side to side and his bleeding chest shuddered with gasped air and pain and the apprehension of a time of waiting for the torture to begin anew. His wait was not a long one. Barris took account of the seeping blood that dampened his prisoner’s belly and with a practiced eye, knew it would serve rightly as the proper incitement to the creature that would, at the last, finally bring an incomprehensible death. However… not before the passing of long, hideous hours. Without even so much as a glance behind him, Barris simply raised his hand and a man appeared at his side gripping a small, round iron cauldron. It was inverted; it’s wide opening covered with a flat tile of metal as if holding some unknown contents from falling away. Barris took it into his hands without taking his eyes off the warriors reddened and sweat soaked face. “I will ask it of you one last time.” He said quietly. “Your death is at hand. I can grant you release swiftly… or you will find your last journey to be long and tedious slow.” He waited and watched. The Viking’s resolve was infinite and Barris knew from the deeper place within himself that he had lost. This man would not be broken. All his experience recognized that this man would die victorious. He would give up his life to keep his honour. And as indignant at this prospect as he might be, Barris could not within himself find a fault with it. He respected strength and most especially, strength within a rival. Still, in being true to his own code of honour… he would show no mercy. This man would die with his honour well earned. The room stood in a deadly quiet… and Barris found himself compelled to ask one final time. “Know you this Viking,” he said lowly, “Death is but a heartbeat away and by my own hand…if you tell me who it is that sent you to do murder.” This same huge hand seemed to caress the iron bowl as he stood with it ominously held within his prisoner’s sight. “Refuse me in this, and I will give you new meaning to the value of a warriors suffering.” He only waited for a moment. “Who sent you?” It was as he suspected. The warrior would hold his tongue… save for the screaming that Barris knew would soon be forthcoming. Barris raised his head and looked about the room at the men that stood waiting to do his bidding. He needed no assistance in this. And he could find no value in allowing his own men, loyal and obedient as they were, to take any victors pleasure in the hideous misery he was about to inflict. He would see this through to the end with the Viking… alone. It was a single, final token of respect that he could pay to a man that was a formidable adversary. Barris would not send him to his Gods burdened with a sense of inner shame should he die with an incoherent cry on his lips. With only the simple movement of his head the men were dismissed and they left without a word or even a glance back. When the door closed behind the last, Barris moved the cauldron to just above the man’s stomach and carefully set it down upon the bloodied flesh. Made of iron and heavier then it appeared it needed no device to hold it secure and the sudden weight made all the harder the warrior’s already difficult enough attempts to draw in air. With a simple pull, Barris slid from beneath it the tile that had held the bowl contents in place and immediately, despite his semi-conscious state… the Viking’s eyes widened in horror. Scurrying, scratching claws brushed his already torn and tortured belly from beneath the overturned cauldron as the metal tile was removed from it’s place. The bowl contained a number of small rats. Without a word Barris placed an enormous glowing coal into the shallow indentation atop the inverted bowl and knew it would take but a very few moments for the iron to begin to heat. To be certain, he added another. Held fast by the binding tight around his body and bound taut and secure to the table upon which he lay the warrior’s greatest agony was in his immobility. Instinct tugged at his still strong muscles and despite his mind knowing the fruitlessness of his effort, it struggled to surge up and throw off the absolute horror that now confronted him. He felt the fire from the red hot coals seep downward and inflame the entire metal basin with a scalding heat. As the moments passed, it began to incinerate his flesh in that place where the instrument lay pressing against his stomach. It was in the moment afterward that the realization was born in his shocked and disoriented mind as to the reality of what it was that would prevail over that last measure of the time left to him in this world. Being driven into frenzy by the ever increasing heat that surrounded them and having only the instinct of an animal, the maddened rats launched into an escape in the only manner in which they knew how… They began to burrow into the soft and bloodied flesh of the Viking’s belly. The shrieks and screams that marked the beginning of the time of trial resounded within the chamber walls and so wrenching was their sound that it chilled the blood of even the hardened men who heard their echo in the yard far below. Barris only stood and watched in his usual silence. It was horror beyond imagining. The animals, turned vicious in their attempt for self-preservation, clawed, chewed and lacerated through the meat of his stomach and began to descend into this entrails and bowels. Barris had been certain to obtain only small rats. He did not want too much damage done in too quick a time. He needed this man to have a chance to consider the alternative and answer what it was that Barris had asked of him. From the inhuman screams and moaning he felt that his acquisitions had been the correct ones. He was please in that it appeared there would indeed be time for reflection on his victim’s part and failing in this, it would take a good long while for this warrior to die. All was as it should be. Barris watched the writhing figure on the table before him. The empty sound of lungs gasping for air only to expel again what little could be gathered for another outcry or moan or scream was so familiar to him. Why was it then… he was finding this particular examination to be openly unsettling to him? He let his eye sweep over the man suffering by his hand that was laid out helpless in front of him. What was it? Something for the first time was disturbing. Disturbing in this, his work? Was it that this was a warrior not unlike himself? No. He had dispatched countless number of his like kind and felt nothing. What then? This was a man no different from any other. Was it the man? Not likely. He was a warrior and knew his fate if taken. What was this inner knawing that set Barris to wondering and what was worse… questioning the rightness of what he was doing. What he had already done. It was unlike him to be bothered. He listened to the agony being played out just beside him with seeming indifference but his mind was racing. “End this!” he thought, “Just speak to me what I’ve asked of you!” he heard his mind say in voiceless entreaty. He was suddenly startled to realize that the finish would not be long in arriving now. How long had he stood there? Could so much time have escaped him without his knowing? A glance darted to the sliver of a window showed the light of a sun setting sky where at the onset it had held the glowing brightness of a sun high up. He moved over to stand beside the Viking and was not surprised at the blood that flowed freely from his mouth and nose. His eyes, glassy and gone pale seemed to focus on nothing. The flesh of his belly and groin heaved and billowed like a stormy sea from within it’s recesses, alive with the surging wave a living rats that pushed and fed on and sought continued escape from the inside of the tortured body. Barris saw death coming into his eyes. “Enough.” Barris said aloud in a whispered voice. Moving to the wall against which he has supported himself, he drew up from a bench his broadsword. Slipping it silently from its sheath he moved the few steps back to the tableside and noiselessly set it a fraction of a breath above the Viking’s throat. He felt the familiar tension grow throughout his muscles as his body prepared to strike a blow. Without thought he raised the sword, trembling from the strength with which the cut would be delivered to just over his head… and in that fractured moment before he struck, he heard his name whispered as if by a disembodied voice. The blinding, irrational tension that fills a body with its great strengths caused him to be stunned in that moment. With a viable effort he shook off his intention as he slowly lowered his weapon and searched the face of the man in front of him. The Viking’s eyes had cleared of their cloudiness and now looked directly up and into Barris’ own. The mighty Barris was somewhat taken aback. With almost undetectable breaths, the Viking gathered what voice he could and called again his name. “Barris…” The Dun Lord stood unmoving and looked down into a face contorted with the agonies that he had visited upon it. “I am here.” He answered. The dying warrior spewed a soft rain of blood as he spoke in a whispered that indeed belonged of the grave. “Barris…” he said yet again, “…know that you have not conquered over… me.” His body still enveloped in agony, trembled not with his endurance of it but from within… from the incessant movements of the rats. “Know this also…” he managed after a pause, “…that what I tell you now is given to you freely… by my own choice.” His struggle was immense to continue. “You have won only my poor death with all your skill… with all your ability… You have my life at an end. I still have the knowing… of what you sought.” He writhed up for a moment with his suffering and when it lessened, he fought to say again his mind. “I will tell you what you want to know warrior. Not to save my life for which there is no help. I tell you… to see your face when you hear it.” He was gripped by a wail of pain that subsided into stillness as it passed. “Come closer Lord Barris…” he said softly “…so I can see your face.” Barris moved to his side and stood so that his own face was well illuminated by the torch on the near wall. “Speak you then.” Barris bid him. The two warriors looked into the eyes of one another and each recognized a part of himself within the other man’s face. “I will tell you… who sent six warriors of his own choosing to murder the King’s brother. He looked with the eyes of the dying upon Barris who watched the satisfaction he expected to see fail to materialize as the first, unmistakable twinge of death began to wash over the man before him. “It was the King, Barris… It was the King that sent us to murder his mother’s son.” The fractured voice began to fail and a rumble began to escape from his throat that he could not control…and had no fear of. “And…” he taunted at the last, “…look well after the life of your Egan milord.” he choked and then struggled to finish. “…for the one thing I refuse you in my…generosity… the name of those who are being sent to kill the King’s…son.” The Viking was resoundingly cheated at the last. As his life slipped away and he felt the drawing out of his spirit to be at last separated from the torment of his wracked body, he did not survive the time long enough to see the sudden disquiet that played across Barris’ face. Death came as it does for all, yet sickeningly in this case to the host only. The rats still caused a perverse and morbid twitching that gave an illusion of life still lingering. Barris decided that the entire corpse should be burned… along with his so carefully chosen allies still within it. As he stood in the quiet that was now his only company, Barris considered all of what it was that he had heard. A dying mans last falsehood upon an enemy? No. He moved to the small window and looked out into the darkening sky. Barris, with stunned acknowledgement, recognized the truth in what he had been told. This fact had indeed caught him off his guard but Barris was never taken by surprise more then once by any one man. This Kings breast reeked of treachery and now it seemed it had reached out to deface his own lineage. Well enough then if he chose to be rid of his own sibling, in that Barris had no quarrel as it was not his own tribal hierarchy. “Best look then to your own life my King…” Barris said in a low voice heard only by the stone walls and the now lifeless warrior who lay near by. “Bring you your treachery to within my domain and contrive to visit your intrigue on the life of your son…” His voice suddenly fell silent and he felt the very fiber of his being snap and tense with the filling of a sour and palatable hatred. “Come you here to deal with death upon Egan… and it is Barris with whom you will be at war.”

(chuckle) Well, guess I don't have to read it now.

No no.... a bodice is worth a *peek* to just about any sailor. A bodice will cause a *peak* only if it's laced up right!

Be you saying Will Turner is like the dog with keys? Uh, no... If you read back through all the posts you'll see that *I* am saying I was unhappy with being labeled as Will Turner .... and choose to be the dog with the keys instead.