Title: Faithless To Thee
Author: WickedRum
Disclaimer: I have no right to use these characters, not to mention playing with history. But other people often do it too, so...
Summary: Johnny Wilmot did not die of syphilis. Running from the king he became the far-famed Captain Jack Sparrow instead. And yes, I am mad, but come on, does nobody else see the myriad of similar traits between these two characters. No plot, but more inside.
Set: Libertine crossover, call it post AWE, but it's not the point.
Genre: glimpse/drabble.
Rating: PG for satefy's sake, in case I do anything unplanned by me. Haha. It has happened before.
Pairing: a bit of this, a bit of that, you know how it is with the illustrious John Wilmot?
And wit' the feel of ne'er
Her in me arms to wreathe
Ne'er cut off all that's life and fire
All that which mayhap called desire.
Jack was staring at the inscription on the side of the map lying on the captain's desk in his cabin, then cursed. Yet, again, he had ruined another map, but what could he do if those words jut kept creeping out from his head everywhere, especially with the aid of some rum?
If Gibbs'd see it, he'd think his captain has gone one tad bit more mad. Yes, Captain Jack was a man of words, but in rhyme? Well, if rum wasted it, rum will sort it out. He urgently knocked the bottle over, so the map was soaked in the tempting smelling liquid, making the pen marks on it blend in. Just a drunken accident then, he smiled to himself, Gibbs will not notice. What was the point of all these love poems anyway? He left that life behind, followed his father out to the Caribbean, who was also thought dead back home, taken by the drink. You're not Johnny, you're Jack, yet both as pertinent and cocky as it could be. Easy to slip back with every action. The word kept swimming around in his mind. Elizabeth. But which one today? Elizabeth Barry or Elizabeth Swann Turner? He opened his compass to take a look, then laughed, bitterly, taking another gulp from what was left in the bottle. It was Mrs. Barry today, the compass clearly bouncing towards England. If it'd only settled once for more than a day...
Mr. Gibbs has asked for a heading earlier. Alright then, there's not much choice left. It's Tortuga, it's the whores. Head on, for a little enjoyment, we'll handle with what come from it later! A pirate's life for me...
The End.