Mursi is more glad for the sight of land then anyone on board. Vikings tend to stay in sight of land to be honest, and it was a calming effect he misses. Jack seems happier without it. Especially this time because as soon as the final course was set Jack seemed distracted. His big white shadow stayed near feeling the anxiety, but there was no threat from the crew. The Norse was confused until he discovered their direction. India. The land of Hindus and Jack's people. Mursi has heard many tales of them, but never seen one. Lore makes them out to be a rich colorful race of sexual creatures- almost like the selkie himself.

The crew is given explicit orders and Mursi follows Jack to land- not be able to stop staring since they came in sight of the locals.

Boys come to the show. Soft ones that need to look hard and dead eyed seventeen year olds mad at their fathers. Their pale limbs are scratched and bruised by self infliction more then the mosh pit below Mursi's band. The lead singer has been watching a boy that looked as if he was painted with water colors. The boy shoved and hopped furiously. Pink nipples through his torn shirt, dusty skin and blue eyes. he stared up at mursi as the redhead clutched the mic and screamed. The boy's eyes yelled back at him- daring him. His eyes say, "I am just as beautiful as you. I'm getting as much attention as you."
The frustration and sexual tension grows for two hours until Mursi is crawling out of his skin and the set ends. When he can't find the boy afterward he decides to drink angry. Mursi hates a tease. Bullshit little twinks messing with him where he's trying to work and distracting him. He's still glowering about it hours later when his band mates separate from him to go their own ways. He's alone on the wet shining city streets at a lonely hour. No more beer. The bottle is empty and Mursi hurls it to the sidewalk and sends pieces scattering further with his boot.

Mursi would stay inside Jack's shadow every moment if he could, getting closer or further depending on the sun's location. But the small pirate is too quick and lithe for his lumbering sways on board the Pearl. Mursi has learned to just anticipate where Jack will flutter for a bit and grasp the rails pulling himself there and then to the next place. The only calm he feels is at night or during storms where Jack stays at the wheel for hours. Mursi stays there sitting and just watching the pirate through wind and water and darkness.

When the crew sleeps things are quiet and he likes that and misses it when the dun comes up and Jack wanders off to sleep a little. The only sound other then the familiar sea is the noise of the rum bottle across the wooden floor as it rolls along with the sway. Away from Jack to gently tap against the railing at Mursi's side and then to Jack again, tapping against Jack's boots.

Mursi has a set time that he does this. It's when Jack tells him to. Perhaps a day but mostly a few. It's one of Mursi's best uses to the pirate to go into the drug den and get him back. No one would dare rob Jack as he stumbled out and Mursi can get the job done quicker then Jack's first mate. The pirate had even hoped being kidnapped by the giant saved him from paying his bill. It hasn't. For instance this time. Mursi shifts the pirate in his arms around and rifles through his pockets until he comes up with the money demanded by the itty bitty wrinkled man yelling up at him. Now it's a matter of sobering him up.

Mursi carries him like a sack over his shoulder. His heart races. He despises Jack doing this to himself, but it's the only times he allows himself to touch the man. Having him helpless like this arouses feelings he thinks are best pushed down deep and not thought about.
He checks them into a different Inn then the opium den. Mursi hates the smell and it's better for Jack not to be able to wonder back down again. No one questions his carrying a man around this way. No one dares. Once in the room he opens the windows, propping the wood shutters open with a stick.
With that done he prepares himself for setting the man down... eventually. Mursi is secretly in love. All he can do is hold the man like a sack of shit while he's high because as soon as he puts the little captain down Mursi has to look at him and be reminded what a shit situation this is.