I've been sitting at my computer for about two and a half hours now, and I
haven't gotten anything done, so I decided to start this other story that
I've been thinking about for a while.
If you want this to be a self-insertion fic, go ahead. I just didn't want to write another one from the 'you' point of view. Oh, and your/main character's name is Vivian, but your nickname is Vivie, or Viv. And she's a few years younger than Will, so probably around twenty-two or twenty- three.
(^) (^) (^)
Will was so excited. Jack was finally coming back to visit him. He could hardly wait, for although they didn't admit it to each other, they both knew they were great friends. Will peeked into the kitchen, and saw Vivan, his younger sister, standing with the cook, in her nightgown, tasting one of the dishes that was to be served.
"Vivie, I'm having a guest over!" Will said, exasperated. It was only a few more weeks until he would buy his own house, move out, and marry Elizabeth. But until then, he was living with his sister, who he never ceased to look out for. "Why aren't you dressed yet?"
Vivian calmly turned around, used to her brother's outbreaks over little things. "Will, it's alright. I'll go upstairs now and change." She walked out of the kitchen, and into the small living room.
Will put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "Vivie, I'm sorry. It is just that I have been very..."
"I know, Will. Life's been eventful. I'll try not to test your nerves, and I'll behave properly in front of Captain Jack Sparrow. Promise."
Will smiled. "I'm sure you'll realize soon that my version of proper behavior is a lot different than Jack's version. And make sure to refer to him as 'Captain.' He really insists on that title. Anyway, I have to check up on things at the shop, and finish a last minute order. I'll be back soon though, and if he comes, will you let him in so the cook doesn't have a fit again?"
Vivian smiled to herself as Will walked out the front door. The thought of the plump Spanish cook, Lucienta, having to answer the door was just too funny. Lucienta was the third and final person in the Turner household, and had been working for them even before their parents had passed away. She made a fuss every time she was asked to do something not related to cooking, and would have a complete fit if she answered the door, and there was a pirate standing there. Vivian giggled, Lucienta would probably tell Captain Sparrow off in Spanish, then threaten him with a candelabra or the like. Lucienta's voice jolted Viv back to the real world.
"Miss Vivie, have you gone upstairs to change yet? Master Will said to, entienda?"
Vivian knew Lucienta meant well, but sometimes she was just a little too concerned... She acted like a mother hen, and sometimes got a little too involved in her and Will's personal lives.
"Miss Vivie..." Lucienta called again.
"I'm going, I'm going." Vivian crossed the living room.
(^) (^) (^)
Jack had sent a message through one of his confidantes to tell Will that he was returning back to Port Royal, estimating to be docking on this very day. And he had. He now strolled the streets fondly, reminiscing about all of his memorable adventures. He fancied himself a legend, really, to this small naval port. As Jack looked off in the distance of the town, he could see the governor's mansion sitting on the top of a hill. "Hmph," Jack thought to himself. "All the governor really is governor of is a big lump of sand." Jack strolled by the butcher and printer shop, winked at a maid, causing her to drop the bucket of water she was carrying, and nicked an apple- all in about ten seconds. He slipped the apple into his pocket and laughed to himself at the confusion he was causing already in lieu of his return. "Can't do anything serious, though," he thought. "Wouldn't fancy another run in with Norrington, no matter how much he misses me."
Jack wasn't really sure how to get to the Turner residence anyway, so he asked the candlestick maker. The bearded man pointed to a small house up the road. Jack tipped his hat and sauntered over there.
(^) (^) (^)
Will went into the smithy, which he was no longer apprentice of, but owner since Brown passed away. He picked up the mold he had made the day before, and a lump of silver. He was to prepare a silver bowl for one of the richer people in town, and it was due that day. He desperately hoped that Jack would be a little late so he would have time to finish the silver and get back to greet him. After all, he thought greatly of Jack, but he wasn't sure how long he could trust him with his sister.
(^) (^) (^)
As Jack approached the house, he noticed how well trimmed the flowers in the petite yard were. And then he knocked. But no one answered. Jack knocked again loudly, to no avail. So he slowly opened the door.
"'Ello, in there! Will? Yeh there, mate?" He looked around, but couldn't see anyone. He stepped in, and decided to make himself comfortable in the parlor while he awaited Will's return.
Jack slowly walked over to a couch, his leather boots clicking on the wooden floor. He admired the small yet fashionable set up of Will's residence. As he got closer to the couch, he stopped, because on the floor was a woman, lying motionless on the floor, clothed in a nightgown.
(^) (^) (^)
Arr... Review ye scurvy dogs! Please?
If you want this to be a self-insertion fic, go ahead. I just didn't want to write another one from the 'you' point of view. Oh, and your/main character's name is Vivian, but your nickname is Vivie, or Viv. And she's a few years younger than Will, so probably around twenty-two or twenty- three.
(^) (^) (^)
Will was so excited. Jack was finally coming back to visit him. He could hardly wait, for although they didn't admit it to each other, they both knew they were great friends. Will peeked into the kitchen, and saw Vivan, his younger sister, standing with the cook, in her nightgown, tasting one of the dishes that was to be served.
"Vivie, I'm having a guest over!" Will said, exasperated. It was only a few more weeks until he would buy his own house, move out, and marry Elizabeth. But until then, he was living with his sister, who he never ceased to look out for. "Why aren't you dressed yet?"
Vivian calmly turned around, used to her brother's outbreaks over little things. "Will, it's alright. I'll go upstairs now and change." She walked out of the kitchen, and into the small living room.
Will put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "Vivie, I'm sorry. It is just that I have been very..."
"I know, Will. Life's been eventful. I'll try not to test your nerves, and I'll behave properly in front of Captain Jack Sparrow. Promise."
Will smiled. "I'm sure you'll realize soon that my version of proper behavior is a lot different than Jack's version. And make sure to refer to him as 'Captain.' He really insists on that title. Anyway, I have to check up on things at the shop, and finish a last minute order. I'll be back soon though, and if he comes, will you let him in so the cook doesn't have a fit again?"
Vivian smiled to herself as Will walked out the front door. The thought of the plump Spanish cook, Lucienta, having to answer the door was just too funny. Lucienta was the third and final person in the Turner household, and had been working for them even before their parents had passed away. She made a fuss every time she was asked to do something not related to cooking, and would have a complete fit if she answered the door, and there was a pirate standing there. Vivian giggled, Lucienta would probably tell Captain Sparrow off in Spanish, then threaten him with a candelabra or the like. Lucienta's voice jolted Viv back to the real world.
"Miss Vivie, have you gone upstairs to change yet? Master Will said to, entienda?"
Vivian knew Lucienta meant well, but sometimes she was just a little too concerned... She acted like a mother hen, and sometimes got a little too involved in her and Will's personal lives.
"Miss Vivie..." Lucienta called again.
"I'm going, I'm going." Vivian crossed the living room.
(^) (^) (^)
Jack had sent a message through one of his confidantes to tell Will that he was returning back to Port Royal, estimating to be docking on this very day. And he had. He now strolled the streets fondly, reminiscing about all of his memorable adventures. He fancied himself a legend, really, to this small naval port. As Jack looked off in the distance of the town, he could see the governor's mansion sitting on the top of a hill. "Hmph," Jack thought to himself. "All the governor really is governor of is a big lump of sand." Jack strolled by the butcher and printer shop, winked at a maid, causing her to drop the bucket of water she was carrying, and nicked an apple- all in about ten seconds. He slipped the apple into his pocket and laughed to himself at the confusion he was causing already in lieu of his return. "Can't do anything serious, though," he thought. "Wouldn't fancy another run in with Norrington, no matter how much he misses me."
Jack wasn't really sure how to get to the Turner residence anyway, so he asked the candlestick maker. The bearded man pointed to a small house up the road. Jack tipped his hat and sauntered over there.
(^) (^) (^)
Will went into the smithy, which he was no longer apprentice of, but owner since Brown passed away. He picked up the mold he had made the day before, and a lump of silver. He was to prepare a silver bowl for one of the richer people in town, and it was due that day. He desperately hoped that Jack would be a little late so he would have time to finish the silver and get back to greet him. After all, he thought greatly of Jack, but he wasn't sure how long he could trust him with his sister.
(^) (^) (^)
As Jack approached the house, he noticed how well trimmed the flowers in the petite yard were. And then he knocked. But no one answered. Jack knocked again loudly, to no avail. So he slowly opened the door.
"'Ello, in there! Will? Yeh there, mate?" He looked around, but couldn't see anyone. He stepped in, and decided to make himself comfortable in the parlor while he awaited Will's return.
Jack slowly walked over to a couch, his leather boots clicking on the wooden floor. He admired the small yet fashionable set up of Will's residence. As he got closer to the couch, he stopped, because on the floor was a woman, lying motionless on the floor, clothed in a nightgown.
(^) (^) (^)
Arr... Review ye scurvy dogs! Please?