Disclaimer: Only the computer by which I post is mine - all else belongs to Disney.
PREVAILING INSANITY
AN: Thanks, in great part, to the inspiring reviews of WHICH WAY, I'm certainly motivated to tackle the next chapter. This short piece, however, came out of a suggestion made by my best friend after reading her first PotC fanfic – just days after seeing AWE at the theater with me.
"Why are you here, man?"
"What?" Simple Jack looked back at his captain vaguely, uncertain.
"It's a simple question, is it not? Speak up and give me an answer, fool. What are you doin' here?" Jack felt his exasperation rise. Did he really see himself as this addle-minded?
"Because you are, sir?"
Jack fingered the hilt of his sword impatiently. "Fine. Then why am I here?"
Simple Jack fidgeted, glancing past the captain's shoulder to see the others watching, each with varying expressions of interest or boredom. "Is there somethin' needs doing on the ship, sir? A sail to reef perhaps? A sheet to haul? I be your man for it."
"I see." Jack unconsciously drew his sword. "Is it that you cannot answer or that you won't?" He challenged, feeling at a loss. The simple pirate took a nervous step back. "This is to be my purgatory, then? A baking, white-sand eternity with no water in sight and mindless buffoons what do naught else but take orders and mock me? I've no tolerance for this…"
"Run 'im through, cap'n, " urged the wickedly grinning pirate, apparently enjoying the captain's plight.
The captain whirled, surveying Wicked Jack. Not the best dresser of the lot, he noted dismally, rumpled white shirt hanging loose over his breeches and something missing. "Why are you here and where's your bloody sash, mate?"
"Oh, pleeease, mate. Like anyone's gonna care 'bout attire on this ship." Wicked Jack snickered, arrogantly folding his forearms over his chest. "Bloody waste of time, sir. Ask the lads."
All the lads in question hastily pretended to be busy elsewhere, two of them scurrying barefoot up the ratlines. Simple Jack returned to what he'd been doing before the captain had approached him, sweat glistening off his tattooed pale back.
"Waste of time, eh? Has it perhaps escaped your notice that there is nothin' here but time? Time, sand, heat and endlessly more time? And dress like a decent pirate, man, before I decide the blame be yours for this misery and desolation," Jack growled, with an impulsive swing of his sword, cutting viciously across the smirking pirate's chest.
Wicked Jack reeled and staggered back several steps, knocking into the dazed-looking one with a tattered sash wrapped about him like a toga, and causing the other to lose his sponge.
"Oi, ye should watch what ye're about, mate," he accused Dazed Jack, angrily kicking the dropped sponge across the deck. Sloppy Jack, barely keeping his shirt tucked into his lopsided sash, his bandana tied at an angle over his right brow, laughed. Quick Jack uttered a squeaking noise and leapt up out of the sponge's path allowing it to slap into the captain's left boot with a wet plop. Quick Jack winced.
"Should you desire mercy, I'd advise the same for you lot." Jack frowned, bending to reluctantly pick up the leaky sponge. "You with the evil smile and clumsy feet, from where comes this 'ye' what you speak? A manner of me poor speech then?"
Wicked Jack shrugged, losing his defiance as both arms fell, hands twitching in front of his chest. "Nooo, sir."
"Of course it isn't. You it's always been, you it shall be. Torment me if you must with this travesty of obedience, but I'll abide nothin' less than proper spoken English from the likes of me - you, savvy?" He emphasized with a long finger toward each blank face in turn. "Ah, shall I demonstrate?"
No one on deck dared move. Dazed Jack blinked, wondering where his sponge had gotten to after the captain dropped it.
"You will pay," the captain declared in vain outrage, flourishing his sword, "if need be. I shall see to it you are keelhauled for defamin' the verbalizin' integrity of me character!" Unexpectedly, he lunged at Wicked Jack before the other could move. "What think you of that vocal example, eh?" With one rapid thrust, he ran through the illiterate pirate and then calmly looked up at Quick Jack standing in the direct, if not narrow, line of danger.
"Lesson ended. Now, why are you here?"
Quick Jack looked fearfully at the unsheathed sword. "His idea, sir," he moaned and pointed down at the bloodless body of his fallen crewmate - as did at least a dozen other eager forefingers.