Beckington Challenge!

[Paint The City Pink.]

All right, I have a few challenges!
--SLASH--
Pairing: Beckington
Time Period: Post-AWE
Challenge: We assume Beckett doesn't fear death... Beckett and Norrington meet at the land of the dead and have a small discussion... you can really take this wherever you want.
Words: Tintinnabulation, irked, Frenchman, frolic, beguile, lenient
Extra Credit:
-Mentions of Peking
-Usage of any vocab used in composing [ such as crescendo, diminuendo, forte, etc. ]*
-Musical!Beckett
-Managing to squeeze in any more characters
-Mentions of any of Homer's works.

*However, you don't have to use these words as one would while composing. i.e. 'His voice reached a crescendo' is perfectly acceptable.

Now, write awayyyy! [=

[sparringtonette]

I love the idea of this, and if and when I have time I would gladly give it a shot, although I've never written POTC fiction before. I hope others will also take up the challenge. Do you have a deadline in mind?

[Paint The City Pink.]

Nope, it's just an idea for the Plot Bunny-less people of the world =D

[Ericadawn]

I wasn't able to follow all the rules, but here's my attempt:

This was unacceptable. First, his own firepower had been used against him. Now, he found himself floating in a sea of corpses. Well, technically, he himself was a corpse, but this was not something to dwell on. Instead, he focused on the fact that some of the dead had boats with lanterns. Most of the wood hulls turned slippery as he reached to grasp them. However, one relinquished to his grip. He pulled himself over and landed with a thud that almost upended the boat: finding himself looking up into the green eyes of James Norrington.
“You,” he spoke in a very curt manner.
“Me,” Cutler agreed and they looked at each other.
“It was a mistake, taking the heart, giving it to you, giving in to you…it was all a mistake,” the other man uttered while removing his hat and wig so his familiar brown hair shown, “all it brought me was my eternal reward.”
“But you liked it,” the lord argued with a small smile.
“No,” James retorted with a shake of his head.
“Really? Your ecstasy was feigned as I sucked your prick?” he asked with a leer, “When my lips kissed yours, you did not retreat.”
His once Admiral sulked and they were silent as it became obvious that the boat had veered off course.
“Where are we going?” the younger man questioned.
“Beyond the reach of Athena, Poseidon or any other God who may just as real as Calypso has turned out to be?” Cutler guessed, sitting up straight and gripping the sides as their vessel wandered far from the others. The finale of their voyage turned out to be an island with the ruins of odd buildings like he’d seen in Peking.
“And now you’ve cost me my chance at heaven…so it would seem,” James spat and he could only laugh.
“Always the optimist,” he commented at the irked tone, “You can’t persuade me that you aren’t the least bit curious about our surroundings.”
James crossed his arms over his chest and glared but Cutler waited. Sometimes, it seemed like everyone knew James better than he knew himself.
“Fine,” the younger man agreed and stepped out of the boat. With a smile, the other followed to see what their finale would be.