Omgh! Hii! I'm so sorry for the wait. I've actually had this chapter finished since before my last update, but...well, I didn't want to type it up or post it. I wasn't in the mood, you know? Anywho, next chapter is well underway (thankfully!) and actually nearly done. Next chapter and a half done for Fears, if anyone was wondering. To be updated over the weekend or something...
Listened to OK Go and the Spirit Stallion Soundtrack. Much fun, much fun.
Anywho, even with so much time to review, we still don't get ten reviews. But hey, then that's unfair to those who actually care whether this story continues, so I guess I can't really complain. Praise to those of you who aren't too lazy to review. -coughsamcoughcough-
Little Miss Sparrow: Lol, Simon versus James...James would so shoot him before he had a chance to criticize. Ahh the corruption...innit great:p But yeah, he's a pretty good singer. The only problems...James: "What's a microphone?" And Jack Davenport going "WTF" when he sees himself (ish) competing and owning American Idol. Ha. That's a funny thought. XD
TheDreamChild: Mate, the wing is a demon wing. He's demonic whether you deny it or not, lol. I don't mean it rude-like. I'm just stating fact. Like Sephiroth is an evil angel, Cloud is an angelic demon. Anywho (wow), no that wasn't part of my plans, but it may be now! Heehee... So is KH fun yet? Lol.
Destinysway114: No more ice cream for you Oh Em Gee. Haha...Twister...lol... He can dance, yeah, but dance from his days. If he tried dancing today's mix...well, it would be like me dancing, you know? (Wow I just dissed myself) So did the rabid chicken catch you?
Authoressinhiding: I know the feeling. I'll get around to reading your updates eventually (sorry I haven't yet!) but I'm just not in the mood, you know? Sorry. Thanks for your support though! And even though I'm not -currently- reading your fics (I will soon, I promise!) you know you have my support too.
Armoredsoul: Special person powers! Yayy! And Twister. Twister is fun. No story is good without it! Haha creepy cheerful Norrie. Thanks, that made me laugh.
Stormwake: I know. I was laughing too. Not sure why, cuz when you really think about it, it's not creepy, it's just...kind of out of place, you know? Lol. Thanks much for teh review, mate.
EvilChibiHikari: NEW REVIEWER! -runs around in circles a few times- WEEHOO! Well thanks! I understand thy laziness. And I completely agree with your statement concerning James. Thanks for the review. Keep 'em coming if you can.
Jess is a pirate: Hey, I'm not flexible either, but Twister keeps me limber. Lol, I don't know. Horseback riding and marching help with that, too. -shrug- Yeah. Thanks for getting around to reviewing, though. I appreciate it!
Disclaimer: It is my intention to commandeer some of these characters, pick up a plot in Tortuga, write, picture, ponder and otherwise publish my weasely black guts out.
Chapter Eight: Midnight and Homecoming
Midnight came and went, and shortly after, she was able to sneak from the room without a worry that anyone would still be awake. While everyone had been up late the previous night, exhaustion had set in and they were all out with the lights. She crept silently down the steps to the lounge. It was pitch dark, but the girl had been smart enough to grab a flashlight. She clicked it on, and it seemed to know already to train on the invisible figure of James standing in the middle of the room.
"You're late." Illuminated in the ghostly light, he turned to face her.
"I had trouble waking up. We're all tired after today."
"Mm," he said noncommitally.
"Sooo...you said you had something to show me?" He held up a book to the light.
"Yes. Now would you mind shining that somewhere other than my eyes?"
"Oh! Sorry." She shone the light elsewhere and approached him. "What have we got here?" He pressed the book into her hands and stood behind her with the flashlight, shining it over her shoulder so she could read. "...This is one of Hannah's journals."
"Yes. Some of her memories were not her own, as you may recall, and I suspect they came from those that she was created from."
They read.
"...She remembers my sorcery."
"Yes," James breathes in her ear. "And I thought it might be of help."
"The only thing that will help me—the only advice that's here is: 'Learn from the Sea Witch.' What Sea Witch do we know?"
"What of that witch Sparrow knows?"
"Tia Dalma? Naw, she's more a mystic than a witch, isn't she?"
"Then that means she will be more knowledgeable and thus be of more help to you; mystic or not, she's all we've got."
"Is it really so important that I have to learn all of this? I mean, yeah it might be of some convenience, but I'm liking my life the way it is, you know?"
James reached over her shoulder to turn the page. The next sheet was blank, however, but for a single statement. "'Prepare; a great storm is fast approaching,'" he read.
"Oh."
"Apparently it is."
"Er..."
"It sounds like a war more than anything," he commented somberly.
"Then...?"
"Then we must go and see this Tia Dalma as soon as possible."
She held up a finger, looking like she wold agree. "Yeeeehh—no. See, if I disappear again, my parents are gonna kill me. I propose: we go home to my place, work on this a little on our own, give me some time to give Jack a call, and if we have to go, give me some time to think up a good excuse to give my parents, and take a trip to your place, 'kay?"
"Sounds like a plan. Acceptable," he nodded. They both felt better with a plan.
"Cookies for me!"
"Not now. Now, we must work on your concentration, Miss Short-Attention-Span." Geeze, even current sarcasm was rubbing off on him.
"I can focus when I'm motivated."
"You're hyper."
"I'm tired. I get hyper when I'm tired."
His eyebrows rose. "You really are a strange one."
"I was. Now I'm even stranger."
"Perhaps." They were silence for a few moments. "It is time we experimented."
"Hai."
"We're going to have to be creative tonight, just for an idea of what to do."
"Okay."
He thought for a few moments. Had to think of something where any malfunction would not be life threatening. "That pillow," he pointed. "Let us see what you can make it do."
"Do?"
"You were able to make that swirler ("Spinner," Amy corrects him.) do as you willed. Try to do something along the same lines with that pillow."
"Er...okay..." She stared intensely at said small cushion.
"Focus," he encouraged her.
After several minutes, the pillow managed to flop over and fall to the floor. "Er..."
"How was that focus?"
"I was focusing, I'll tell ya."
"Hmm. Then I wonder what the problem is."
"Doubt."
"Humm?"
"Doubt," the teenager repeated. "I just can't believe I can do any of this. I mean, we only just 'found out' about this today. It hasn't been absorbed yet. I can't take it in."
"Ah. Perhaps I was a bit hasty in my assumptions."
"Maybe."
"All right," he sighed. "We're done for tonight. You go and get some sleep."
"Oh, okay." She hugged him. "G'night," she bid sleepily, taking back the flashlight and heading up to bed.
"Good night..."
————
The next morning found Amy up earlier than the rest, getting out the breakfast foods, and surprisingly awake. "Good morning, James," she greeted him before she saw him.
"Morning, pet."
"Sleep well?"
"Aye, and you?"
"Yup." she continued setting up the breakfast items. "I talked to Jack last night."
"You both are still connected?"
"Evidently."
"And...?"
"He's in the middle of something, but he says he'll be more than happy to pay a visit to her when he's finished."
"All right. Did he mention how long his plundering would take?"
"Plundering? Who said anything about plundering?" James' eyebrows rose. "He's leading a liberation movement on the island of Lusee."
"Sparrow? Of all people..."
"See? Even Jack has his good. It's just hard to see sometimes. ...Maybe it's in his toe."
James chuckled. "So that's why he can't walk straight half the time," he played along. "It's because his toe is disagreeing with the rest of him."
She laughed. "Look look! James made a funny!" James facepalmed. "Yeah, I'm weird. Get over it, love. Now eat some breakfast and get to returning everything you borrowed, okay?"
"Oh right," he looked down at his apparel. He had felt nothing but guilt at having to borrow clothing. But it had warmed him—both literally and metaphorically—that another man had been willing to lend them to him. However, foreign as they were to him, he would be glad to get back into his own clothes.
It was hard to believe it had only been a weekend—with everything that had happened, it felt more like it had been a week. However, the adventure was not over. After breakfast, the group went on one last ride through Center City, the clean, downtown neighborhood of the city. It was to be a nice walk around the area to see a bunch of the sculptures that were built outside. James was intrigued by many of them—such as the thirty-foot clothespin—seeing as the abstract art was not a style he was accustomed to.
Finally, it was back to the base to pack and clean up. Up in the girls' room, Amy was busy cramming everything into her small suitcase. However, as usual, she had over-packed and could not fit everything in. Hmm... If I could make it smaller, it would be a lot easier. Oh well, thought she with confidence, I can make it fit. I always do. And she spent her efforts and focus on making it all fit. (Naturally the idea of folding all the clothing did not occur to her.) Now all that needed doing was to put her final plan into action. She set to writing the note.
A couple of hours later, everyone piled into the vans and left. James was now in another van, since he had been sitting on the floor, and said other van had an open seat. It was the boys' van, but also driven by Scott. Amy's prayers went with him. (XP)
The two organization members went up through the rooms to make sure everything was as it should have been. Kris, checking the girls' bunk, discovered something on a bed. It was an iPod, hooked up to speakers and a note, which read: 'This system is brand new and unused. If at all, please donate it. If it cannot be donated, please sell it at a high price and donate the money. G-d bless, -Captain's Angel.'
————
Traffic was slow, as always, getting out of the city. Thus, James was taken by surprise once they hit the Turnpike and started on sixty miles per hour. It made him nervous to be moving so quickly, and he unconsciously began to fidget with his hat. "So, uh, dude," one of the boys began," like, what's up with the costume?"
"Oh this? I'm a part of an anachronism group." the word was foreign to them. "Reenactment."
"Oh," they chorused. "That's cool. What kind of stuff do you reenact?"
His eyes gleamed. "Ship battles."
"Cool." "Sweet." "Dude, that rocks!" "Awesome!"
So, he passed the time by telling them stories about some of his favorite victories.
Simultaneously, Amy was staring blankly out a window, lost in daydreams.
Before one knew it, the hour-and-a-half ride was coming to an end. The vans pulled into the parking Aton Presbyterian Church, thus finally ending the trip, and everyone unloaded. "All right," Todd turned to Ellie upon picking her bag. "Let's go." She led him the mile or so to her house. Picking up a small decorative turtle at the back door, she opened a secret compartment on its underside and removed a key, unlocked the door, and replaced said key and turtle. She opened the door and led inside. "Stay here. I'm gonna go find me parents and tell them what's up."
"Okay."
"Okay," she nodded, setting down her things, and set off. "Mom? Dad? I'm home!" She found them in the dining room at the front of the house. "Hey, guys!" They all hugged.
"So? How was it?" her mother asked.
"It was really interesting. I'll tell you more later, er... I need to tell you something important, first."
"Oh. Okay."
"See...you remember how Jack Sparrow and James Norrington brought me back after I went missing?"
Silence. "Commodore Norrington showed up and you brought him home, didn't he?"
"You're good, Mom."
"Nah, Scott called Friday night and told us."
Traitor, she thought insincerely. "Oh. Well then, that's one less apology for me."
"We're gonna set up the fold out bed from the couch."
"Just the couch would be fine, Madam," came a voice. James had heard them talking (it isn't such a large house, after all) and assumed it was all right to come in. "I do hope my stay here will not be a burden."
"It's all right. The house seems empty with only three people."
"Only? Was there a fourth?"
"My sister. She's away at college." She mentally winced at the thought of her older sibling.
"Well, you had better go and unpack," her father told her. "And while you're at it, work on your room."
The girl really hadn't changed. "Commodore—."
"Please. Just call me James."
"Well, James, how are you at cooking?"
"In my time, I might have considered myself an adequate chef."
"Well, I'm going to need some help with dinner tonight."
"I'd be happy to lend a hand," he smiled.
So, while he did that, Amy trudged up to her room with her bag. She removed anything that wasn't clothing and dumped the rest directly into the washer, and started the machine. What else? 'Work on your room.' Looking around at the clutter, she sighed before perking up as an idea came to her. For about ten minutes, she picked up the books that had fallen from her overstuffed bookshelf, then called it quits. Yay loopholes, she thought to herself, for in fact her father had only told her to work on it, not actually clean it like she knew he meant. She left just in time to be called down to set the table and unload the dishwasher...not necessarily in that order.
Half an hour later, dinner was set out on the relatively small eating-room table (the dining room was only used for special occasions, such as thanksgiving).
————
"Have you given any thought to the believability of my theory?" James asked as they sat in the den later that evening, in front of the fireplace.
Amy shrugged. "I dunno. It makes a lot of sense...Yet at the same time, it's 'Greek to me.'" She shook her head. "I don't know what to think."
"I am only here so long as you need my help."
"'A great war is coming,' don't you remember that? I'm going to have to believe all this stuff in order to be ready for that. I'll be made to believe somehow or other... So I'm definitely gonna need you." There was a long silence, broken only by crackle of flames. "James...I don't want to be in a war...I really don't...," she confessed softly.
James breathes deeply and turned away, absorbing himself in the fire burning on the hearth. It is hard to make an unwilling soldier fight. The flames danced before his eyes, as if to mock him somehow. But there has to be a way.
...There just has to.
Oki, so...there ya go. Sorry for any typos. I know it's inconvenient, but I'm not in the mood to edit. Sorry again. Anywho, like I said, next chapter almost finished, but mates, I've got to be honest with ye...I'm losing my will to write this story. I no longer have a plot for it, no longer have a spark to keep me going. I'm not sure what it is. Oh well, PSSAs next week(endish) so I'll have some extra time to write and think things out. Fin is gonna be deleted, for those of you who care.
So yeah, review, inspire me to keep going and get some actual action in here. Cuz you want it. I want it. Need inspiration. And ideas. So leave them in reviews. Please.
