Okay, originally I accidentally wrote another chapter about Almeda that I was going to stick here. But I figured you might be tired of hearing about her. It was really because It still didn't seem like she had enough reason to go postal on Jim. But for now, we're taking a break from both Almeda and Silver and going to the Cresentia. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Treasure Planet belongs to Disney. Only OC's are mine. Don't eat me.
Chapter 3: Way Start Your Day Like An Idiot
He was standing on the brink of a cliff. It was a beautiful place—the sort of place he loved to go. He had never seen this place, he was sure of it. But he had the strange sense that he had been here before. He tried to grasp at threads of memories that didn't seem quite his. And as he was trying to remember, the whole sky seemed to darken; the darkness was moving, gradually blotting out the stars. It was coming, he felt with a shock of certainty, for him. He tried to move, but there was nowhere to go. The stars were falling—no it was snow, a whiteness ever thickening with the dark coming behind it. Then there were images, voices in the snow.
"No!"
"Please!"
There were desperate cries filling the air in front of him; and he saw people falling, cut down. He didn't understand. He wanted to move, to stop it. Or to run. But he couldn't move. He covered his ears but it didn't blot out the cries. The snow was splattered with blood and it was raining on him, blood and snow.
Then the cries died down. As though being muffled by something. He realized he was still crouched surrounded by snow. He looked up, and there was something there, the darkness. But the darkness was a person, though he didn't know.
"Get up," a voice came out of the darkness. He stood, shakily.
"You did this," the dark figure said, gesturing to where the gruesome scenes had been played out.
"No, I don't know what you mean," he said.
The figure loomed over him. "Look at your hands," it said.
He did. He realized with horror that they were covered in blood, blood completely soaking his skin and dying it with death up to the wrists. There was snow all around him. He gathered up a handful and tried to wash the blood off. Nothing happened. He thrust his arms into the snow. He scrubbed frantically. He began tearing at his own skin when nothing happened. He realized he was screaming.
He looked up. The figure watched him contemptusously.
"I'm coming for you," the figure said. Suddenly an army of smaller figures, dark outlines of cutthroats and pirates formed behind her and then merged into the darkness that the figure was enveloped back into. And then disappeared and the world was enveloped in darkness.
Jim jumped, waking up and falling out of his bed with a thunk.
"Ow," he rubbed his head.
Jim heard a patter of feet and the creak of the door opening. He looked up wincing. Three pairs of eyes were peeking around the door. It was three of the Doppler children: Kim, Jacob, and Martha. The youngest, Alice wasn't there.
The children looked slightly guilty when caught staring. But after a moment Kim, the eldest of the foursome, just stared Jim down. She looked like her mother when she did that; she was the most commanding and organized of the children, with short red hair that curled at the ends no matter how short she cut it, a sprinkling of freckles, and glasses as she was nearsighted.
Jacob, the one boy, looked nervous. Of course, he idolized Jim so much he might have just wondered if he had to take up the painful habit of falling out of his bed onto his head in order to be like his hero. Or maybe he wondered what was going on since he'd left his glasses . . . somewhere and couldn't see too well.
"Hey," Martha said frankly, after a moment. The third child, she was the odd one of the family, not much like her studious father or her commanding mother in looks or personality.
"Hey," Jim replied, trying to shake the fog out of his head.
There was the sound of little bare feet walking down the hall as the youngest daughter, the blonde, petite, Alice looked into the room.
"Why are you on the floor?" she asked wide-eyed.
Jim grimaced. "I, quite frankly, have no idea."
"I do," Kim offered. "I believe you simply fell."
Jim stood, rubbing his head. Then he glanced at the girl, unable to tell if she was joking or not.
Martha glanced over her shoulder and then back at the assembled company.
"If you want breakfast than hurry, people; it's about to start."
The other children didn't bother asking if Martha was sure. Their sister always knew things. The children scrambled out of the room.
"You coming?" Jacob asked over his shoulder.
Jim felt a splitting headache coming on. And he would much rather go back to bed. Although . . . he had an vaguely unsetting feeling. Maybe it had to do with a dream . . . if he could remember what he'd been dreaming.
"I'll be down in a minute, Jacob," Jim said, smiling. "And, after breakfast, if your mom lets us, lets get back to work on that hoverskate project, kay?"
Jacob's face broke into a grin. "'Kay!" he called racing downstairs.
"I'd like an asprin for breakfast," Jim thought, making the guest bed. He had the weekend off from academy work, and was staying with the Dopplers; he'd gotten here last night. His mother was supposed to be coming down to spend the rest of the weekend with them as well. She'd be bringing BEN and Morph too. Jim couldn't help but grin, forgetting his sense of uneasiness.
"I love weekends."
"I love pancakes," somebody said. Jim jumped and turned. Standing in the doorway was Dr. Doppler in his eccentric dressing gown, holding some books with papers randomly sticking out of them.
"Are pancakes on the menu?" Jim asked, smiling.
"Well," the Dr. said, taking out a pair of glasses and trying to put them on. He found them inexplicably small and stared at the object.
"I think those might be Kim's," Jim said innocently, finishing with the bed.
"Ah, I believe you may be right," the Dr. said. "Let's hurry. I'm not keen on missing breakfast." He turned and began walking down the stairs. Jim only found one boot and glared at it before poking around under the bed.
"Mr. Hawkins! Do you intend to make an appearance this morning or shall we consign you to the realm of sloth?" a voice yelled from downstairs.
Jim cringed at the Captain's tones.
"Hurry. Remember, your mother is coming for you."
Jim stopped cold. Coming for you. Coming for you? The dream came back to him with a shock. Someone was coming. No, more than one. He'd seen pirate crews assembling. He normally didn't think of dreams as anything but an annoyance. But this one felt so odd. He felt a strange certainty that they were coming for him. Uh . . . whoever they were.
With a sense of panic, Jim grabbed the second boot from under the bed and ran downstairs.
"Ma'am!" he yelled, rounding the corner into the dining room.
The family glanced at him, stumbling around and pulling on his boots.
"Yes, Mr. Hawkins?" Amelia said, with raised eyebrows.
Blame it on not being fully awake. But Jim felt panicked.
"We need to hurry!" he said, falling over, after a failed attempt to get his second boot on.
"Why, praytell?" asked Amelia. The children watching the antics of their friend wordlessly.
"They're coming!" he blurted. "The pirates! They're coming here!"
Jim stood up and found everyone staring at him.
"What pirates? Why are they coming here? And, most importantly, how do you know, Mr. Hawkins?" Amelia asked.
With the first panic gone, Jim felt his face redden.
"I, uh," he started. "I . . . I'm not sure."
"Aren't sure? You seemed fairly certain," Kim noted.
"Uh . . ."
"Mr. Hawkins!" Amelia said.
"Sorry," Jim muttered. "I just had this feeling . . ."
"This feeling?" Amelia asked, contemptuously. "We operate on fact. We are naval officers, not a smoke-and-mirrors phsycic operation."
Jim sat at the end of the table, ruffling his hair and letting it fall into his face. "Sorry, I don't know . . ." he trailed off.
When he glanced up he met the eyes of Jacob, sitting across the table from him.
"Can we still work on the hoverskates?" Jacob asked.
Jim grinned, glancing at the Captain who had gone to reading a newspaper while the Dr. was absorbed in a book.
"I think so," he whispered conspiratorially, leaning in. "But let's see how quick and quite we can be about our getaway. Your mom might not really want to send you off to work with a crazy person."
Jabob laughed.
Martha raised her eyebrows in their direction before asking. "Well, what do you think of the Octurian trade issues?"
Her mother set down the paper and stared at the child. "The what?"
"That's what it says on the paper you're reading," Martha said. "It's about Octurian trade issues so what do you think?"
Her family looked mystified. Kim rolled her eyes while her parents stared. Jim grinned and shrugged. At least Martha had taken their minds off his antics. He would probably be in disfavor with the captain all day for it.
He shook his head. "Way to make an idiot of yourself," he thought. Just forget it. His mother and friends were coming—it was the weekend. It had only been a dream. But . . . for those few minutes it had seemed so real. The menace had seemed so close, he thought as he went back to breakfast.
It was.
Well, there you have it. Chapter three. As I said, originally I had another Almeda chapter. But I could just see your eyes bugging out at a third barroom talk in as many chapters. I could just imagine accidentally killing you with death-by-barroom scene. So I spared you.
I know the dream was a bit odd. But I wanted to write about Jim and the Dopplers. Actually, I've spent quite a bit of time making up names and personalities for the Dopplers. Honestly, though, I think there are a lot of people who have Jacob idolizing Jim, dunno who started it.
Aside from that, the credits are simply this: Treasure Planet © Disney.
Thanks for reading. Please review.