Mister Silver was most definitely not an arrogant man; never was. Although there have been times where he would be a bit gullible on what and [i]who[/i] he is facing. He hasn't admitted to that flaw. Not yet, anyway. Not towards Vivienne, at least. In the crew, aside from Miss Black herself, Silver was the smartest in his prime. It may sound arrogant now, but later on, one would beg otherwise. 

Plus, like Vivienne, he was a man of mystery; never revealing anything personal about him. But for him to work with Black for so long, he thinks he may have figured her out. But there are times where he wondered if he was missing something. Now with this man next to him, now known as [i]Will Turner"[/i], maybe he could examine him, figure out what his intentions are. 

With an breathed chuckle, his short, curly, dark-brown hair following the movement of head, the quartermaster reluctantly completed the introduction by returning the handshake. "My name is John Silver", he said, in his usual fast-talking Australian-English voice. [i]That voice[/i] was medium-deep, probably deeper than Mister Turner's own. "Out of curiousity, what business do you have with the captain?", he simply asked, while taking a glance at the slightly taller man. 

--------------------

Vivienne looked at her youngest with slightly sluggish eyes. She trusted Jim, as long as he respected her. Plus, she wasn't blind to his motives: to show his gratitude of rescuing him months ago. Her wavy, brown-black hair slightly drooped over her beautiful features, she had her slightly-focused vision towards Jim. Did she need anything? No, she didn't. But Vivienne didn't make that known; her troubled body language was enough to show it.

Miss Black didn't have a boundary for her state of being; never did. Only a few on the ship knew of this, like Silver and Jim, but never anyone else. Her calm and collected exterior was a mask, and the others didn't dare to look underneath it, and they knew the cost if they did so: see Miss Vivienne Black as weak. Truly vulnerable. [i]A woman[/i]. A woman who was once a slave. [i]A slave[/i]. Again, she didn't admit this to anyone, but only to Silver; kept it all in shadow. 

Hearing Jim's concern, a smirk appeared on his captain's face. A smirk that she was determined to use as a brush-over about her injury. "It's just a scratch -- ", she attempted to say, but the rise in his voice didn't surprise her. She eventually nodded for his assistance; to finally receive treatment.