Everyone seems to be angry with Jack. Ana-Maria's run off with the Pearl
and Will's out for Jack's blood.. Why?
Thanks to all who read the these stories, it's what makes sitting up till two in the morning when I can't sleep and my fingers itch all the worthwhile.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, if I did, I would parade Jack around the streets proudly and shower him painfully in gold.
I seem to be having some difficulties uploading, so bear with me.
* * * * * * * * * * * * The bar was dank, the patrons sweltering in the heat. The barmaid, a small red head with bony wiry arms, carried huge tankards of grog to tables full of loud, drunk pirates. It was midday; the sun shining through the dirty windows, and the hum of the bustle of the street outside could be heard behind the voices.
A hand snaked out, grabbing the barmaid's arm as she tried to get back behind the bar. The figure was slumped, his head pressed against the wood, his face contorted as though he was trying to listen to something. His hand rested on an empty shot glass. Five more empty shot glasses were clustered round his head. His red scarf, tied around deadlocked hair, was dirtier then it had been in years, his beard scruffy and unkempt.
"Give me another," Jack Sparrow rasped with a sigh. The barmaid gave him a look of disgust and nodded. Three months, in and out of bars and brothels, Jack had steadily drank away the small amount of money he'd managed to pickpocket. He needed a shower, well he'd always needed a shower, but he was starting to feel disgusting, like one of those rum- soddened bums on the street that everyone steps around pretending they can't see him.
Two sailors came in, ignoring Jack's slumped figure, seating themselves on the barstools next to him. They slammed their gold down on the table, gesturing their orders to the barmaid, and then spoke in low, conspiring voices.
"I heard she's to hang." One of them said, his voice oddly melodic in the crude backdrop of the bar. "Apparently she got court on the outskirts of some navy ridden town, and their gunna hang her."
"Good bloody riddens. Hang em all. Fat lot of good they do ya." Jack murmured to his shot glass. No one was listening to him, and he frowned at his empty glass gloomily.
"Then captain of the Ivory Grip?" The other one scoffed. "Not bloody likely. Heard that crew's the finest and most dangerous crew on the Caribbean. Heard their cursed, and that they don't leave a sole alive, slitting throats in order to quench their Captain's bloodlust."
"Female captain can't be that hard to kill." The other one said disbelievingly. Jack raised his head, and turned, lifting his hands as he winced from the movement.
"Ah well, then you don't know our Captain Ana-Maria."
"Oh, and you do, do ya?" The first man said, nudging his friend. "Come on, old man, tell us about the plucky wench?"
"I ah.." He broke off. "I don't want to talk about it." The two men laughed.
"Buy a beer for our friend here," The second one called to the barmaid. "See if it loosens his tongue."
"Her ship, the Ivory Grip, I heard, well, there's a rumour that it's not a new ship at all, for all its speed and victories." The second man said in a low voice, and glanced from one man to the other. "I heard it's the infamous Black Pearl, under a new Captain and new name. That it's black are the very same that bore Barbossa and his hell riddened crew for ten years."
Jack frowned, his face dropping into a nasty scowl.
"Bloody bitch. Takes my ship, and renames it. The Ivory Grip, what the hell kind of a name is that? Bloody soddening bitch." He spluttered. The two men laughed at him.
"Hey, fella, think you had a bit to much to drink." They said. "Why don't you tell us all about this bitch?" The second man said, humouring him. Then had all day, they weren't due at the docks till sundown. "What did she do? And more interestingly," He said with a grin. "Why'd she do it?"
* * * * * * * * * * * "Jack?" Someone whispered. Jack was sprawled on his bed, a black blanket crumpled in the corner and a bottle of rum resting on the pillow where it had fallen out of his hand. It was three months previous, the middle of a heat wave.
"What?" He growled, snapping open his eyes. He blinked in the darkness of the cabin, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The hazy feel that accompanied drink was not good when mixed with a rocking boat. His room sunk of liquor, the sheets splotched with it. A small grate that served as a window was covered in smashed glass, as it seemed throwing empty rum bottles out of the window was his way of disposing of them. The fragments glinted under the candle light.
He blinked again, trying to figure out why Ana-Maria was pointing a musket at him. And why there were three other pirates standing behind her grinning. He pulled a face, burying his head in the pillow.
"No, bugger off." He said grumpily.
"Jack, get the fuck out of bed." Ana-Maria said coolly, poking him with her sword. Jack swung his legs over the edge with a disgruntled sigh. He looked up at Ana-Maria and waved his arms in a surrendering way.
"Captain Jack, when we're in mixed company, Ana-Maria." He said charmingly, and got to his feet, stretching his arms. "What's this, luv?" He said with a pained expression.
"This, my dear Captain Jack Sparrow, is payback." She said, drawing out a pair of handcuffs. She twisted them in her hands, smiling briskly. The pirates behind her leered at Jack. Jack pulled a face.
"Well, this hows I see it." He said, and made a dart for his sword. Ana-Maria watched him with a bored air. She pulled her gun out of her belt, pointing that at him too. He dropped the sword and frowned.
"Mate, it's not my day." He said, as she slapped the shackles around his wrist.
"Really honey, I hadn't noticed." The black girl said sarcastically. She gave him a slow lingering kiss on the cheek. "Toss him overboard. Don't think Sparrows can swim, specially not if they've got their wings shackled together. What do you think Jack?" She asked, with her back to him. She was perusing his maps carefully, grimacing at the stains on them from the rum.
"Shackles?" Jack said. "What about a nice beach, with a pistol?" Ana- Maria turned around laughing. Jack saw something glinting at her neck. A medallion, it's scull and cross dangerously familiar.
"You took a piece." He murmured but she didn't hear him.
"We're not all fools Jack. Though it's tempting to see if third times a charm, whether it would actually kill you, but I'm not taking any chances." She paused. "I'm taking everything else, your ship, your cabin, your rum," She said grinning, sipping slowly. "But not chances, Jack."
She paused, and picked up his hat, flipping it in her hands. "You won't need this anymore right?" She said.
"Guess not." Jack said slowly. "I always liked you." He said hopefully.
"Funny, not really caring right now." She said, and ushered the guards to take him away. Jack looked up at the hunkering pirates, all about half a head taller then him, and sighed.
"Mate, it's really not my day." He said to himself. "Never piss a woman off."
Jack got on deck, his eyes filled with loathing. He stumbled against on of his captors, his fingers searching for a key in his pocket, but found nothing. He glanced up at the moonlight night, wondering absurdly if it was cloudy overhead. Or it tomorrow would be the beautiful day he'd wanted it to be.
So this is it, he thought gloomily. Don't see any bloody way out of this one. He reached the plank, still trying to think of a plan, when he heard footsteps running up behind him.
"Elizabeth!" Jack said, alarmed. He glanced at the pirates behind him, but they didn't seem surprised to see the lithe blonde girl. His eyes widened.
"Ana-Maria's got a."
"I know." Elizabeth said, quickly.
"You're in on this?" He asked disbelievingly. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around the pirate, tears on her face. Her blonde hair was pulled flat across her head, her clothes bedraggled.
"Sorry Jack." She slipped something in Jack's hand that felt very much like a key, and squeezed Jack tighter.
"Couldn't bear to see ya sink." She said. "Don't come back for the Pearl this time, she's lost. We're all lost." She whispered, and shoved Jack onto the plank.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"So Ana-Maria tossed me off my ship, and I made my unhappy way back here, to the bars and brothels of beautiful Tortugua." Jack said with an gloomy grin. The man known as Victor gave Jack his hand.
"It's an honour to meet you Captain Jack Sparrow. After all the things I've heard you do..." He looked to his friend. "Hey tell us about the sea turtles. Jack waved his hands dismissively, nearly at the bottom of his beer.
"Okay then, tell us what you did to piss the girl of so much?" Chris, the other pirate asked. He grinned at Jack, wiping his greasy hands on his green shirt. "Come on, we'll buy you a meal."
"Sadly, fellas," Jack said theatrically. "I'm going to have to decline. Got to see a lady about a tear in her skirt." He said with a wink.
Jack got up, downing his shots, and turned around to stride out of the joint with his dignity still intact. But he stopped, having come face to face with a sword. He looked down at it perplexed. Then he looked up at the sword barer, and grimaced. He sat back down on the barstool, patting his pockets for a smoke. Bloody hell he was going to need one.
"Ah, Will." He said. "Charming to run into you." Will didn't put the sword away; the green feather in his had blowing slightly under the breeze. He looked, unlike any of the other pirates, like he only had two layers of dirt on him. Will's hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. However, his mouth was set in a hard thin line, and he scowled at Jack.
"I've been looking for you, Jack Sparrow. You've got a lot of explaining to do." Jack didn't bother to correct him. He raised his hands half defensively above his chest, producing his best grin.
"Ah, see about that."
* * * * * * * * * * *
Thanks to all who read the these stories, it's what makes sitting up till two in the morning when I can't sleep and my fingers itch all the worthwhile.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, if I did, I would parade Jack around the streets proudly and shower him painfully in gold.
I seem to be having some difficulties uploading, so bear with me.
* * * * * * * * * * * * The bar was dank, the patrons sweltering in the heat. The barmaid, a small red head with bony wiry arms, carried huge tankards of grog to tables full of loud, drunk pirates. It was midday; the sun shining through the dirty windows, and the hum of the bustle of the street outside could be heard behind the voices.
A hand snaked out, grabbing the barmaid's arm as she tried to get back behind the bar. The figure was slumped, his head pressed against the wood, his face contorted as though he was trying to listen to something. His hand rested on an empty shot glass. Five more empty shot glasses were clustered round his head. His red scarf, tied around deadlocked hair, was dirtier then it had been in years, his beard scruffy and unkempt.
"Give me another," Jack Sparrow rasped with a sigh. The barmaid gave him a look of disgust and nodded. Three months, in and out of bars and brothels, Jack had steadily drank away the small amount of money he'd managed to pickpocket. He needed a shower, well he'd always needed a shower, but he was starting to feel disgusting, like one of those rum- soddened bums on the street that everyone steps around pretending they can't see him.
Two sailors came in, ignoring Jack's slumped figure, seating themselves on the barstools next to him. They slammed their gold down on the table, gesturing their orders to the barmaid, and then spoke in low, conspiring voices.
"I heard she's to hang." One of them said, his voice oddly melodic in the crude backdrop of the bar. "Apparently she got court on the outskirts of some navy ridden town, and their gunna hang her."
"Good bloody riddens. Hang em all. Fat lot of good they do ya." Jack murmured to his shot glass. No one was listening to him, and he frowned at his empty glass gloomily.
"Then captain of the Ivory Grip?" The other one scoffed. "Not bloody likely. Heard that crew's the finest and most dangerous crew on the Caribbean. Heard their cursed, and that they don't leave a sole alive, slitting throats in order to quench their Captain's bloodlust."
"Female captain can't be that hard to kill." The other one said disbelievingly. Jack raised his head, and turned, lifting his hands as he winced from the movement.
"Ah well, then you don't know our Captain Ana-Maria."
"Oh, and you do, do ya?" The first man said, nudging his friend. "Come on, old man, tell us about the plucky wench?"
"I ah.." He broke off. "I don't want to talk about it." The two men laughed.
"Buy a beer for our friend here," The second one called to the barmaid. "See if it loosens his tongue."
"Her ship, the Ivory Grip, I heard, well, there's a rumour that it's not a new ship at all, for all its speed and victories." The second man said in a low voice, and glanced from one man to the other. "I heard it's the infamous Black Pearl, under a new Captain and new name. That it's black are the very same that bore Barbossa and his hell riddened crew for ten years."
Jack frowned, his face dropping into a nasty scowl.
"Bloody bitch. Takes my ship, and renames it. The Ivory Grip, what the hell kind of a name is that? Bloody soddening bitch." He spluttered. The two men laughed at him.
"Hey, fella, think you had a bit to much to drink." They said. "Why don't you tell us all about this bitch?" The second man said, humouring him. Then had all day, they weren't due at the docks till sundown. "What did she do? And more interestingly," He said with a grin. "Why'd she do it?"
* * * * * * * * * * * "Jack?" Someone whispered. Jack was sprawled on his bed, a black blanket crumpled in the corner and a bottle of rum resting on the pillow where it had fallen out of his hand. It was three months previous, the middle of a heat wave.
"What?" He growled, snapping open his eyes. He blinked in the darkness of the cabin, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The hazy feel that accompanied drink was not good when mixed with a rocking boat. His room sunk of liquor, the sheets splotched with it. A small grate that served as a window was covered in smashed glass, as it seemed throwing empty rum bottles out of the window was his way of disposing of them. The fragments glinted under the candle light.
He blinked again, trying to figure out why Ana-Maria was pointing a musket at him. And why there were three other pirates standing behind her grinning. He pulled a face, burying his head in the pillow.
"No, bugger off." He said grumpily.
"Jack, get the fuck out of bed." Ana-Maria said coolly, poking him with her sword. Jack swung his legs over the edge with a disgruntled sigh. He looked up at Ana-Maria and waved his arms in a surrendering way.
"Captain Jack, when we're in mixed company, Ana-Maria." He said charmingly, and got to his feet, stretching his arms. "What's this, luv?" He said with a pained expression.
"This, my dear Captain Jack Sparrow, is payback." She said, drawing out a pair of handcuffs. She twisted them in her hands, smiling briskly. The pirates behind her leered at Jack. Jack pulled a face.
"Well, this hows I see it." He said, and made a dart for his sword. Ana-Maria watched him with a bored air. She pulled her gun out of her belt, pointing that at him too. He dropped the sword and frowned.
"Mate, it's not my day." He said, as she slapped the shackles around his wrist.
"Really honey, I hadn't noticed." The black girl said sarcastically. She gave him a slow lingering kiss on the cheek. "Toss him overboard. Don't think Sparrows can swim, specially not if they've got their wings shackled together. What do you think Jack?" She asked, with her back to him. She was perusing his maps carefully, grimacing at the stains on them from the rum.
"Shackles?" Jack said. "What about a nice beach, with a pistol?" Ana- Maria turned around laughing. Jack saw something glinting at her neck. A medallion, it's scull and cross dangerously familiar.
"You took a piece." He murmured but she didn't hear him.
"We're not all fools Jack. Though it's tempting to see if third times a charm, whether it would actually kill you, but I'm not taking any chances." She paused. "I'm taking everything else, your ship, your cabin, your rum," She said grinning, sipping slowly. "But not chances, Jack."
She paused, and picked up his hat, flipping it in her hands. "You won't need this anymore right?" She said.
"Guess not." Jack said slowly. "I always liked you." He said hopefully.
"Funny, not really caring right now." She said, and ushered the guards to take him away. Jack looked up at the hunkering pirates, all about half a head taller then him, and sighed.
"Mate, it's really not my day." He said to himself. "Never piss a woman off."
Jack got on deck, his eyes filled with loathing. He stumbled against on of his captors, his fingers searching for a key in his pocket, but found nothing. He glanced up at the moonlight night, wondering absurdly if it was cloudy overhead. Or it tomorrow would be the beautiful day he'd wanted it to be.
So this is it, he thought gloomily. Don't see any bloody way out of this one. He reached the plank, still trying to think of a plan, when he heard footsteps running up behind him.
"Elizabeth!" Jack said, alarmed. He glanced at the pirates behind him, but they didn't seem surprised to see the lithe blonde girl. His eyes widened.
"Ana-Maria's got a."
"I know." Elizabeth said, quickly.
"You're in on this?" He asked disbelievingly. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around the pirate, tears on her face. Her blonde hair was pulled flat across her head, her clothes bedraggled.
"Sorry Jack." She slipped something in Jack's hand that felt very much like a key, and squeezed Jack tighter.
"Couldn't bear to see ya sink." She said. "Don't come back for the Pearl this time, she's lost. We're all lost." She whispered, and shoved Jack onto the plank.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"So Ana-Maria tossed me off my ship, and I made my unhappy way back here, to the bars and brothels of beautiful Tortugua." Jack said with an gloomy grin. The man known as Victor gave Jack his hand.
"It's an honour to meet you Captain Jack Sparrow. After all the things I've heard you do..." He looked to his friend. "Hey tell us about the sea turtles. Jack waved his hands dismissively, nearly at the bottom of his beer.
"Okay then, tell us what you did to piss the girl of so much?" Chris, the other pirate asked. He grinned at Jack, wiping his greasy hands on his green shirt. "Come on, we'll buy you a meal."
"Sadly, fellas," Jack said theatrically. "I'm going to have to decline. Got to see a lady about a tear in her skirt." He said with a wink.
Jack got up, downing his shots, and turned around to stride out of the joint with his dignity still intact. But he stopped, having come face to face with a sword. He looked down at it perplexed. Then he looked up at the sword barer, and grimaced. He sat back down on the barstool, patting his pockets for a smoke. Bloody hell he was going to need one.
"Ah, Will." He said. "Charming to run into you." Will didn't put the sword away; the green feather in his had blowing slightly under the breeze. He looked, unlike any of the other pirates, like he only had two layers of dirt on him. Will's hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. However, his mouth was set in a hard thin line, and he scowled at Jack.
"I've been looking for you, Jack Sparrow. You've got a lot of explaining to do." Jack didn't bother to correct him. He raised his hands half defensively above his chest, producing his best grin.
"Ah, see about that."
* * * * * * * * * * *