Disclaimer: I don't own any POTC characters, only my OCs.
Thanks for answering the question, guys. As for what I hate about Joey…well…honestly, the thing I really hate about her is that she's so oblivious. I mean, yeah, she's my character. I created her…. but still…. there are times, when I'm writing this fanfic, that I feel like jumping into my story and bashing Joey on the head. She's that thick!
Anyway, thanks for all the reviews and thanks for answering my question, guys! Really means a lot to me.
Enjoy this one, though it's not my best….
ENJOY ANYWAY!
"Fine! See if I care!" Were the only words I could come up with as I slammed the door behind me, letting the loud boom thunder through the midnight sky. Voices, soft and muttering, cut off behind the earsplitting roar as the wooden door swung back on its hinges and slammed back into its place, creaking against the walls and dragging against the hard planks. My blood boiled and rushed beneath my skin, surging with my every movement; anger, raw, relentless anger pitied against me, gnawing my heart and gnashing at my skull. My tongue tasted bitter.
Bloody pirates.
Bloody, fucking pirates.
It was so sickening, really. So bloody sickening; you know, in the old legends, people who went out their way to kill a dangerous monster, to slay a terrible beast and save many lives was often looked up to as a hero, revered as closely to the gods.
Like Persues, for example.
Or Hercules.
Or Siegfried.
But nooooo….
Not me.
Apparently, in this age of swashbuckling pirates, tight corsets and mythical gods, people who killed monsters were hated.
Not loved.
Hated.
Like me.
I really hate this century.
Before me, the dark, soulless deck of the Flying Dutchman opened up below the sky, the fresh blue night shimmering above in a glistening canopy. Stars, silver and bright, twinkled in the dark sky, lighting the world in a dark blue hue; there was no moon tonight, no sliver of the ethereal satellite making its way across the night sky. No giant circle of pale grinning down from the heavens; there was only the stars, like dots of sparkles scattered across a black-blue canvas, millions upon millions. Above my head, below the navy sky, the cream white sails of the ghost ship looked like glowing sapphire, wavering about in the cool night breeze, playing with the stars. They all surged in one single direction; beneath me, the ship barely rocked as it inched across the black sea, side-by-side with the other two pirate ships. Wood groaned and moaned beneath my feet.
The world was strangely quiet.
Beside me, past the deck of the Flying Dutchman, candlelight flickered in the wind, washing the two ships' decks with wavering, orange light.
The Flying Dutchman was black.
As usual.
My hair, my loose, free hair, pulled in the cool breeze.
There was something beautiful about the sea at night.
Without another word, I pulled away from the slammed door, paving through the darkness, walking blindly; I didn't know where I was going, so long as it was far away from those bumbling, good-for-nothing, superstitious, moronic, primitive pi-
That was when I saw him.
Limned against the blue night, sitting on the very edge of the bowsprit with his legs dangling on either side of the slim wood was Jared, his short dark blonde hair flaring in the starlight like white gold. His back was facing me, arched straight and rigid tight; he was just a still statue, sitting silently on the very tip of the long bowsprit, the very front of the ship. The celestial light, soft and waning, glowed against him like a shivering pale, stretching shadows all over his back as he stared out into the quiet sea without a single movement. His silvery hair fluttered gently in the wind, gliding against the twinkling sky like the sails above, smooth and without resistance. His face was turned away, gazing deep into the endless night, hidden in the whispering shadows. Not a muscle budged in his tough form, not a vein; in the pale moonlight, my brother was nothing more then a soft silhouette, staring out into the black, silent world.
Jared.
Has that where's he been all day?
For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the figure of my brother, at his white hair dancing about in the cold breeze.
Wondering at his silence.
At his thoughts.
Behind me, past the hard wooden door, the voices of the pirates' roared in a tumbling laughter, muffled but loud like the crashing of waves against a broken cliff.
The sails tugged and pulled above, flapping about in the cold breeze as if they possessed a life of their own.
I pulled at the strap of my brown bodice.
My shoulders shivered.
Blast it.
With a loud, audible sigh, I dragged myself through the dark and towards my silent, brooding brother.
888888888
To those of you who don't know what a bowsprit is, well, let me just tell you that it is probably the most uncomfortable place to sit on a ship.
I mean, sure, it has a great view of the ocean and beyond.
And sure, it's the best place to get the wind.
And yeah, maybe it's the perfect tanning spot too….
But one wrong balance, one drunken swagger or a careless footing, would sent you plunging into the deep black waters, only to be crushed by the hull a few moments later.
It was, after all, a long narrow strip of wood protruding from the very front of the ship like a long plank, it's make round and smooth like ice. It was sharp as hell; the further north it went, the narrower it got, until at the very end of it was nothing more then a wooden, pointy steak. Ropes, thousands and thousands of ropes bounded around the slim wood, throwing up into the air towards the spiraling, tossing sails high above in the blue-black sky. Tendrils of white sails bunched about in its middle and end, the hundreds of hooks upon the wooden structure jingling about in the cold, cold breeze. Black ropes, thick and heavy, swayed about, swinging up and down, up and down. Everything smelt of oil.
Which is why, really, I barely made it across.
With a held breath, I slowly inched my way down upon the smooth wood, both hands gripping around the bowsprit, fingers digging deep into the surface. My arm was wrapped around a thick, black rope as I gently put myself down, the wind begging to throw me off completely; beneath me, my limp legs hung loosely above the empty black sea, boots blending perfectly into the darkness. Nothing, absolutely nothing at all safe my clutching hands separated me from the sea, from falling into the cold arms of the ocean, into its giant maw, and then being crushed beneath the weight of the entire ship, breaking my every bone….
"Don't fall," Jared's monotonous voice echoed beside me, like the soft rumbling of a distant thunder. Not an emotion betrayed in his voice; as I lowered myself down, nails biting into wood and arm inter-tangling with the wayward, swinging rope, I turned my head towards my left, towards my brother.
My hair flapped and slapped across my face.
The wood wobbled beneath my weight.
Jared was as before, his back still towards me as his legs hung on either side of the bowsprit; unlike me, who was now gently trying to balance on the right side of wood, both legs on one side, Jared had the thin, smooth bowsprit in between his legs. A rope, the very upmost rope, quivered by the side of his shadowy face as he gazed straight ahead into the blue-black sea, his dark blonde hair flickering in the shadows in a brilliant fair. The black leather of his skirted overall shivered in the night as the wind tugged and pull, ruffling against his enormous muscles like water gliding about under a gale. His shoulders were squared, his large body leaning against the singular rope beside him; there was hardly any light yet somehow, the stars were just enough, outlining and shadowing every feature of my brother's back like an old, oil painting of magnificent talent.
He did, indeed, look like a lovely painting from the back.
He was just a hand's breadth away.
What the hell was he doing out here?
As my butt hit down against the small, round wood, the muscles in my arm screaming to hold on tight, the wind rocked again, the cold icy breath of the night tugging at the ropes, pulling at the sails and kicking at my feet. It felt as if my stomach had surged all the way up my stomach; for a moment, fear, raw fear, paralyzed me as my butt sidled forward on the wood, my legs dangling lifelessly over the open, surging black sea. My mind went completely blank.
Completely dark.
And then, the wind reined in, giving me time to scurry fully onto my seat again, grabbing and wrapping around oiled ropes despite their burns. My heart thudded beneath my chest.
If I had fallen…
To my left, staring quietly out into the night, Jared repeated his warning, his voice dead and soulless.
"Don't fall."
My fingers hurried about to dig into the ridges on the black ropes, clawing deep into the thick hairs.
"Out of curiosity…. would you catch me if I fell?" I found my voice, turning my head to my left as hands continued its work of reaching higher into the ropes and pulling me farther away from the treacherous ledge, "Would you come after me, like that time back on Tortuga?"
"No."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because," a soft sigh slithered out of my brother's lips as he remained faceless to me, staring straight ahead into the black horizon, his legs still, "You fell in at a port, which isn't at all that dangerous. Here, on the other hand…if you fell in, the ship will just grind you to bits."
"And you still won't help me?"
"No."
"Why-"
"Because instead of just you dying, I would die too. It would be better, really, if you were the only one to die."
"Oh please," I rolled my eyes in the dark, sucking a thick, salty breath as the wind began to pick up speed again, the rope burning against my skin, "You couldn't live one day without me."
Beside me, still like a statue, faceless in the dark, my brother breathed out another sigh, his shoulder pressing deep against the thick, cutting rope. His black-clad legs swung a little on either side, kicking in the midnight gloom, near invisible. His silvery hair wavered and whispered.
He was silent for a moment.
And then, in the surging, growing howl of the cold wind, he spoke again, voice calm and cool, devoid of any emotion.
"I doubt that."
"You doubt you would jump after me, or that you couldn't live one day without me?"
"The latter…I doubt that I couldn't live one day without you. After all, we aren't that close."
"It's not about the closeness, genius," I allowed myself a sigh as the wind dropped down again, my arms and hands wrapped around the ropes to tight they felt like vines twisting around old, sinewy trunks, "It's a matter of sanity."
"Sanity?"
"Yeah…we're stuck in the middle of the 18th century, among a filthy brethren of pirates…if I was to die, dear brother, you would be utterly alone."
"And that's a bad thing because…."
"Because you hate being alone."
Jared didn't reply.
For a moment, we both sat there, staring out into the sea, balancing upon the smooth wood; my fingers felt like they were bleeding as they twisted about the ropes, holding on tightly, holding on to my life. My heart thudded about like a booming drum, loud and persistent in the clear night; for a moment, neither of us spoke as the night pulled us away for a while, our hair fluttering in the wind along with the wild white sails above, trailing up into the stars. My bare shoulders felt numb and cold.
Cold as ice.
Jared said not a word.
Before me, beneath the winking stars, the sea was a span of endless dark blue, stretching through the night in every other direction. White waves surged about like pale blue horses, galloping about the rolling field of the sea in an endless, wondrous marathon; there was something so calm about the sea at night, something so soothing and inviting and comforting….
For a moment, neither of us spoke, staring out into the seas at either direction, breathing in the lapping winds. My dark blonde hair, sliver in the faint starlight, kissed against the side of my face, flailing across my vision, barring apart the quivering, waning night. The muscles in my arms burned with a tortured cry.
A thought struck me.
As my brother dwelled deep into his silent thoughts, his head facing full ahead again and his white-lined back still facing me, I released one tightly wounded hand; with a quick snap, I fell my arm through the air, flailing through the dark and letting my heart leap out of my chest. Fingers groped in the never-ending dark as my other hand wound tightly around the rope, screaming in protest as I balance all of weight, my whole life on it; with a soft yelp, I grabbed the underside of the bowsprit, fingers clenching around the smooth wood. The cool, oiled panes kissed against the skin as my hand encircled the perch, sliver strands dancing about my face in the pulling, cold gale. Metal hooks and oiled ropes slashed against the skin as my fingers dug into the wood again, as I had before, though only now, I wasn't gripping on for my life.
No, my left arm was doing that on all its own.
In the quiet of glistening, blue night, swaying about in the cool wind, above the liquid black sea, my fingers groped about the wood, feeling about with the very tips of my nails. Wood glided beneath my coarse skin like old parchment; all of a sudden, in the black night, with my hair slapping against my face and the cold stinging against my bare shoulders, I felt something soft and squishy kiss against the tips of my fingers. It was tough and awfully cold; it felt that I was dipping my fingers beneath a soft puddle of jelly, disappearing my hand into its thick, murky depths. It felt like vomit, smeared all over the underside of the bowsprit, bumpy and uneven, beyond all kind of gross. It was awfully, awfully, gross.
Eww….
Oh well.
Without a word, I dug my hands into the icky slush and pulled it up, back towards my face, my arm tight and sore around the rope; all over my right palm, nearly invisible in the blue night was a squishy layer of black algae, dripping between my fingers and over my wrists in a sickening, twisted mess. It was as if someone had indulged in an entire bar of Oreos and then had, helplessly, puked up all over my hand; it was thick and cold, like the insides of a raw fish. Clumps gathered together at the knooks and cracks of my palm as I stared at the putrid, midnight black algae, the blue cast of the sky tingeing the organism an odd, bruise hue. It felt like soft pebbles, cold as ice, on my palm; a smell, a horrid, gut-wrenching smell, wafted up from the slim layer of black algae, casting away into the wind with the stench of rotten eggs and decaying flesh. Sliver strands, bright in the starlight, flickered across my vision as I stared down at the pulpy, dripping algae, the stomach back flipping about in my stomach. Bile crept up my throat.
Eww…
Oh well.
With a heaving, thick breath, I closed my fist, clenching my hand shut in a firm, definite grip. Black algae, like drying, ugly oil paint, swelled out among my fingers as my hand closed shut in the dark, the gurgling black slime spilling around my wrists and down towards my limp, hanging legs. My fingers dived deep down into the horrid organism, as if I was squeezing the juice of out raw meat; without a word, I kept my pose as the black slime covered my entire palm and fingers in a quivering, disgusting coat of algae. It was cold and horrid, raw, putrid-I just stood still, holding my breath as I allowed the algae to cover the underside of my hand completely, letting my legs dangle lifelessly over the smooth edge.
Dark slime plodded down to my pants-clad legs, like heavy clots of pure black, tinged blue in the fair night.
My stomach groaned in disapproval.
Jared was silent beside me.
Why am I doing this again?
After a generous amount of half a minute, I unclenched my hand and without bothering about the falling algae, reached high up past the ropes and touched my face with the tip of a single finger. Cold ice, like a gentle burn, kissed right below the edge of my right eyebrow as my algae-coated finger landed on the mark, pulling the awful, rotting smell closer towards my nose. The liquid black hand, clumped here and there with algae, loomed right in front of my eyes, stinging my senses with its putrid stench and turning my eyes raw with tears. Bile burned in my throat.
Oh well.
Without a word, I carried out my work, dragging the slimy, black algae across the arch of my right eyelid, just beneath the thick eyebrow; it felt disgusting, cold and slimy, the awful scent drifting over my senses and down deep into my lungs. My stomach turned and churned like the rolling ocean below; my left arm was still tangled around the rope, holding my entire weight atop the bowsprit, burning against my sore skin. My legs wobbled beneath me, lifeless before the churning void. My right eye fluttered shut beneath my trailing, coated finger.
Why am I doing this again?
Black algae, clumped and knotted, pressed down against the very top of my right eyelid as I spread a thin layer over the skin, ignoring the stench and the sickening feel; a loose black glump, about the size of my fingernail, began to trail down the edge of my eye, towards my cheek, but I caught in time, flicking it away in the wind. My hand was still clenched tight, hovering near my face, coated in black; tendrils of irksome black trailed down my wrists as I painted my eyebrow, moving coat by coat. My skin burned under each touch.
Oh well.
I suppose that's the prize for-
"What the fuck are you doing now?"
With a finger stilling against my closed eyelid, pressing down against my eyeball and putrid algae stinging slightly, I turned to my left, head swinging as my body stayed absolutely still. My silver strand flapped against the black-coated hand; off to the left, perched at the very end of the bowsprit, Jared's head was turned towards me, his features angling in the waning light. Faint starlight, like quivering fair, shimmered across the rim of his face, silhouetting his broad nose and high cheekbones against the winking night sky. The tips of his silver, flaring hair turned dark as he turned towards me, the shadows leaping about his arching neck and broad shoulders as if they were dancers and he was a stage. Blue eyes, pure white in the quivering starlight, stared out at me through the navy gloom.
I couldn't tell what exactly he was feeling.
The algae seemed to itch on my closed eyelid, for some reason.
My feet felt heavy.
"What?"
"With your eye…" Jared's hoarse voice crackled with annoyance as his white eyes glared at me, his nose crunching in the frail starlight, "What the hell are you doing?"
"Make-up," I said simply enough with my eyelid still shut tight, the thin layer of algae twitching in an uneven line; I wasn't done yet, far from it, but I pulled my hand away anyway, trailing the soggy black mess and rotten stench away from my face. My fingers uncurled to form the black-coated palm again as I moved it away from me and towards my left, my arm still tight around the hard rope. My legs felt like dead weight beneath me.
My eyelid was beginning ever more irritable.
For some odd reason….
"What?" Jared's white-rimmed eyes squinted into slits in the dark as he slowly inched towards the black hand, his silver hair growing darker and darker with each breath. His legs were still straddled along the smooth pole; no longer did he leaned on the oiled rope. Instead, his body was slowly twisting about, the shadows dancing and leaping and cajoling about his moving back. His arms, his muscular arms glowed a brilliant white, the pure white sleeves billowing in the wind. His white eyes were like gleaming diamonds.
My hand moved closer into his vision, nearly invisible in the blue night.
It felt as if something was crawling about my eyelid.
"Sparrow taught me," I said simply enough, wringing my algae-coated fingers as he inched closer and closer towards my hand, his eyes like slits of pure white in the starlight. The cold bit down against my skin, pulling at the thick, gruesome algae; for a moment, a flick of my hair got stuck against my half-algae-covered eyelid, but with a swipe of my chin, it was gone.
The stench was really, really horrible.
"Taught you what?"
"Make-up…he told me earlier on, back at the cells-"
"Tell you what?"
With a soft sigh, I rolled my eyes, the muscles in my right arm pulling weary as the ones wrapped around the rope and holding me up felt as if they had torn apart long time ago. My chest heaved out in the blue-black night.
Jared just stared at my black-coated hand, white-lined eyebrows arched high.
My legs felt dead.
"Make-up…aren't you listening? He told me how to make-up…my eyes, that is-"
"But with what? What is that?"
"Algae."
For a second, my brother pulled his gleaming, white eyes away from my black-soaked hand and toward my face, his white eyebrows leaping high up his wide brow. The tips of his hair flew back into the bright, fluorescent silver of the starlight as he arched his neck back slightly, his back twisting at such odd terms. Darkness and light competed with one another on his face.
"What?"
"Algae," I wriggled my fingers, the wind slapping cold against my grazed cheek and closed eyelid, "You know, slime, various colours, icky, found in water-"
"Don't-I know what algae is, alright? I just-why the hell are you putting algae on your face?"
"Aren't you listening at all? IT'S MAKE-UP-"
"Algae?"
"Yes," I pulled my hand back towards me as the sigh ripped out of my exasperated body, my eyes rolling uselessly at my staring, wide-eyed brother," AL-GAE…Sparrow taught me about it!"
"He taught you to put…algae…on your face? As…as make-up?"
"Yes….I swear, sometimes, it's as if Dad or Mum dropped you on the head when you were a baby."
Jared's face remained a stage for both the shadows and the waning starlight, his features washed away, taken in the blue gloom. His feet were stiff as logs at each side, boots pointing out into the sweeping sea; for a moment, Jared just stared at me, eyebrows blending into the top of his hairline. His whitewashed lips were parted slightly, his jaw slack. Bristles of black gleamed like moon rock against the white jaw line.
He really needed to shave.
"Wait, wait," Jared moved then, shaking his head and closing his eyes in irritation as he swung his right arm back and grabbed the same rope I held, twisting on his hip like the freaking athlete he was, "You're telling me-"
"Sparrow told me, alright?" Another sigh, like a washing wave, rippled through me as I drew my black-coated hand back towards my chest, pressing it against the brown bodice without caring about any slimy, black stains, "Earlier on…back at the dungeons…I asked him how he did his eyes like that, you know, kohl-rimmed at all. I mean, he didn't use an eyeliner obviously, and I'm not so sure about paint…so I asked him. And he told me…he told me that he used black algae."
"Black algae?" His eyebrows were still high up his brow as he peered at me through the blue gap between the thick black rope we shared and his massive, white-clad arm, his fingers a few inches higher then my own. Shadows and pure silver light clashed against one another all about his angled face.
My eyelid was really, really beginning to itch.
"Yeah…he said I could find it on the outer planks of any ship. He said…well, he said it was common enough, and I just thought-"
"And you believed him?"
"Well-"
"Which part of him throwing us overboard gives you the idea that you can actually trust Sparrow?"
I didn't know what to say.
For a moment, we just stared at each other, drips and drops of cold algae dribbling down to my thighs in the most disgusting manner. My bare shoulders felt cold in the wind, the skin naked and bare, exposed to the chilling gale. My feet felt lifeless beneath me.
The ocean rolled in silence, lulling the air with its sweet lullaby.
The rope burned against my arm.
The blue night was silent.
Is my eyelid supposed to itch like that?
I drew my algae-coated finger up to my eyelid again.
"And you're still putting in on you," Jared breathed out a thick, tiring sigh as his white-gold eyes rolled about in their sockets, his shoulder slumping in defeat, his fingers falling slowly down the rope. His eyelashes shuttered close momentarily in exasperation; up above, my finger continued with its work, spreading the thick, black algae evenly about my eyelid, with slow, tedious strokes. Vessels pumped at my temples; for some reason, the algae seemed irritable on my skin, burning lowly against my sore eyelid. My eyeball beneath felt raw and aching, like pulsing blood. The world stank of rotting flesh again.
The tip of my little, algae-coated finger brushed against my mid-cheek, leaving a black, horrid stain.
A large swell rocked the boat forth.
Sails wailed above.
My heart clenched.
"I'm a girl, Jared. I'm allowed to put on make-up."
"Yes, but algae?"
"Find me a sharp eyeliner and some black eye shadow, and then we'll talk."
And that was that; with a loud, defeated sigh, Jared turned away, twisting his waist back into place and facing the gleaming night once more. His hair beamed like a bright field of stars, whipping in the blue wind, tossing like the mane of a white horse. His neck arched straight, his arm still holding on to the my rope just inches above my fingers; for a moment, neither of us spoke as we just kept to our own thoughts, him staring out quietly into the black horizon while I patiently painted my right eyelid, half-turned on the pole. The wind gnashed and gnawed at my bones.
A shiver crept up my bones.
My stomach turned.
The smell's really awful, like I'm wiping something dead all over my eye…God, when will this itch stop-
"Where have you been all day?"
Off to the left, perched on the very tip of the bowsprit and facing the black sea once more, Jared let his right hand trail down the rope even more, his muscles loosening up like rubber band being released out of its pull. Shadows quivered upon his leather-clad back.
I wanted to itch my eyelid so badly…
"What?"
"Where have you been? I haven't seen the likes of you since morning, after breakfast….where did you go? Scarlett and I spent a good hour asking about you-well, it was really Scarlett that was doing all the asking, and-"
His voice came back as a deep, hoarse rumble.
"Mostly here."
"Here?"
"Yeah."
"Up here? On the bowsprit?"
"Mostly."
Black eyelashes, tiny and soft, poked against my finger as I sidled nearer towards the edge, dragging and spreading the algae out as evenly as I could on the closed eyelid.
My legs swayed helplessly as a rolling swell hit the hull of the boat below, clenching my heart and freezing away my senses.
My skin was beginning to throb.
"Mostly?"
"Yes."
"But…but I would have noticed you…Scarlett…Scarlett and I were near here during lunch time. I would have noticed-"
"Like I said, mostly."
The sound of the soft, rushing waves below and the loud howl of the cold wind in our ears filled the silence for awhile as we stared back out into the darkness, voices silent; my arm was beginning to get tired so, hesitantly, I dropped my finger away from my eyelid, the black-coated hand still clenched shut around the swirling pull of icky, cold algae trapped within. My knuckles banged against the black of my jeans, pulling away from my face as the muscles stretched into an easy rest. My other arm was still wrapped around the black rope.
I didn't open my right eye, letting the itching, irritable algae cool off in the lapping, slapping cold wind.
My silvery hair flew and spiraled and danced about my face in the cajoling wind, kissing my cheeks.
Cold slime kissed against the thin fabric of my pants.
My eye still itched.
I spoke again.
"Why?"
"Hmm?"
"Why did you mostly come out here? Alone? What were you doing by yourself all day?"
Jared's voice breathed out a thick sigh, his features hidden away, his silhouette against the cold starlight.
My eye felt like a pulsing throb.
"Thinking."
"Thinking?"
"Yeah."
"Think…" I let the word drag on a little longer as I stared at my brother's back, at his glistening silver hair, at his rigid straight back and his white, glowing sleeve billowing in the wind between him and the rope, "You disappeared all day…to…to think?"
"Yeah."
"But…but you couldn't you just think around us? Did you have to go all MIA just…just to think? I mean, you could have stayed with us-"
"No one can think around you, Joe. You're too noisy."
A flick of algae on my cheek, the one I had accidentally brushed on, was beginning to itch too, throbbing the skin beneath it.
The sails wailed and moaned above us, casting against the enchanting sky, mingling with the black sails of the Black Pearl.
Something knotted in my stomach.
"Well," I drummed my black, icky fingers against my thigh as Jared breathed out a thick sigh, his silver hair flapping, "What about?"
"What?"
"What were you thinking about? All day…what were you thinking about all day…by yourself?"
"Things."
"Things, huh?"
"Yeah. Things."
"What sort of things, chap?"
"You know," another sigh, thinner and softer this time, stretched through Jared, his neck arching forward so that his chin could slowly move to rest on his chest, "Things."
"Ah, thinking about things such as things."
"You're beginning to sound like Sparrow."
"Says the man who thinks about things such as things."
"I was just thinking, alright?" Jared's tone picked up a tired edge as he sighed out the sentence, soft in the pulling, cold wind, "Just-"
"Thinking. Got it," I offered a weak smile at his back, but Jared didn't see it; he was too busy staring down into the blue gloom, his voice gone, his thoughts lost. The white of his large, long sleeve kissed against my wrapped arm as he leaned closer towards the rope we shared, his body tilting slightly; his head was bent down to his chest now, his chin kissing against his collarbone. The back of his head, of his spiky hair was inflamed in a halo of brilliant silver, bright in the navy night. The white of his collar glowed brightly.
My arm was turning numb, the rope burning away all the senses, all the pain.
The algae still smelt in the wind, like a rotting carcass somewhere nearby.
My eyelid was really beginning to itch like hell.
Maybe I should wash this stuff-
"Where's Scarlett?"
"Dead."
"Joey…"
"Fine," I sighed, turning my head so as my single left eye could stare down at my thigh, at my algae-coated, sticky, putrid hand resting above it, "She's not dead-"
"Where is she?"
"In her room…is that what you were thinking about?"
"What?"
"Scarlett…is that what you spent all day thinking about?"
For a moment, my brother was silent, his neck still bent, his chin still pressed against his chest; and then, he straightened up again, a sigh rippling through his body as he rose his head upright and pushed his hand farther up the rope, away from me. The cloth of his sleeve shifted and rubbed in the soft wind, blooming a white pale. His silver hair danced out among the stars.
His sigh was tediously long.
My eyelid was really starting to get on my ner-
"A little."
"About how you could be in love with her and all?"
"I should stop telling you everything."
"Jared-"
"Yeah, something like that," he shrugged a little, pushing his wide shoulders against the hard, black leather, "Something along that line."
"Okayyyyy…did you come to a conclusion?"
"Nothing that is any of your business."
"So it's surprise, then!"
"Something like that."
"You're being very vague here, little brother."
"It's my thoughts, Joe. I'll keep them to myself, hear?"
"Ahhh…" I nodded with a little smile tugging at my lips, my right hand slowly trying to pry my algae-glued fingers apart, "Then what else?"
"What else what?"
"What else did you think about today? I mean, besides Scarlett…don't tell me you were thinking about Scarlett for every second of the entire day, because that would be a whole new level of desperate!"
"I wasn't thinking about Scarlett all day, moron."
"Then what?"
"Well, that was home-"
"Home?"
"Yeah," Jared pulled his arm away now, dragging his right hand off the rope we shared and back towards his body, the white cloth kissing gently against my numb skin," I…Well, I was thinking about how we're getting home and all."
Despite the flaming itchiness on my right eyelid, despite the discomfort, I stretched my skin and raised an eyebrow, struggling to maintain my eye shut. Strand of my coarse hair kissed against my cheekbone.
The streak of algae on my cheek felt like an irritable scab.
My legs felt cold.
"You're kidding right?"
"What?"
"You…you were thinking about how to get us home and Scarlett at the same time?"
"….yessssss…"
A groan escaped my lips.
"I have a genius for a brother."
"What?"
"You do realize that Scarlett is the only reason for you to stay here, right?"
"No, she isn't."
"Yes, she is."
"N-N-No, she isn't!"
"Y-Y-Yes, she is!"
"Look," Jared turned his head to glare at me over his shoulder, his silver hair flickering as orbs of pure white stared furiously at me, "We have to go home. We have to, Joe…this…this isn't our world."
"But what about Scar-"
"It doesn't change anything."
"But I don't think-"
"Look," he twisted on his waist again, silver hair spinning and arm turning as his bright white eyes glared at me forcefully through the blue, whipping wind, "We're going home, alright? We're going to find a way home; even though Circe turned out blank on the whereabouts of Calypso, she could be at the Fountain of Youth-"
"Actually," for the hundredth time, I cut off my brother, wincing as a streak of pure irritation sheared through my right eyelid, trembling my foul, black fingers with agitation, "That's not right."
Before me, turned about in his post at an odd, twisted angle, with his hand grabbing the wood just beside my hips, my twin brother raised one of his silver-coated eyebrows, glimmering the light upon his face. White orbs twinkled like brilliant stars.
He looked like an angel.
"What that's supposed to mean?"
And with that, I began to explain everything, everything about the night at Circe's, about the Gods, about Balder, about my sword, about me being sort of chosen, only leaving out the oath swearing part; words just came pouring out of me, barely stopping, my open eye always upon that silver-shadow streaked face. My eyelid itched and burned with each passing minute; I don't know how long we were up there, on the bowsprit, in the channeling, dark wind, but it had to be for at least a good hour or so, for the stars seemed to have shifted during my narration and my body became as cold and lifeless as a dead doll. My voice filled the air like a resounding, never-ending ring, rushing above the wind and the soft, pulling waves. My insides swelled like a rushing sea.
My legs went completely dead.
My eyelid and cheek burned like wildfire.
Jared's face hardly changed.
"And that's it," I sighed as I finally finished my narrative, gulping back a sward of bitter salvia to wet my dry, scratchy throat," That's the story." My eyelid seemed to have a life on its own; the algae, the rotting, black algae that filled the air with a horrid stench, had long dried off on my face and my hand, creating a thick, chunky layer over my skin. It felt like dried paint, disgusting dried, black paint that smelled like a decomposing body. My eyelid felt like it weighed a ton.
I'm not so sure this is how Sparrow does it….
The world around us was a mosaic of twinkling silver and rushing blue wind.
My arm had gone completely numb.
My body felt chilled.
Jared was silent.
For a minute or so, neither of us spoke as Jared's white eyes gazed down at the smooth wood, far, far away; with a soft swish, he grabbed the black rope, just above my own cold fingers, and kicked himself around in the dark, knocking his left leg over the thin, pointy wood. His entire body swiveled towards his right, in the same direction as me; his heavy, muscular left leg dropped beside his right as he turned to face the same landscape as I did, his silver face flickering away into the dancing shadows. His fair head wavered like a field of bright, white flowers.
His muscles rippled beneath the leather overall and its white, polished sleeves.
His face was blank and silent.
I should really wash this gunk-
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?"
His voice was measured and low.
Thoughtful.
Quietly, I shrugged my bare shoulders, clenching and unclenching my dried, cracking, algae-coated hand. The icy cold wind tickled against the black clay on my eyelid.
It was all very uncomfortable.
"I didn't think about it, really," I admitted, letting a tired drawl pull at the tips of my voice, silver strands whipping about in every other direction, "The thought of telling you…well, it never quite came to mind."
"You never thought to tell me?"
"Nope."
"You didn't think it was important enough?"
"I didn't know what to believe," I turned a solitary eye at his silver form, at his side-angle silhouette framed against the blue-black, the black rope separating us in a single strand, "I still don't know what to believe."
His hand had long left the rope; instead, they now cradled together in his lap, rubbing gently against each other. His silver hair whipped and jumped and leaped in the gleaming darkness, dancing in and out of the starlight. His carved face was emotionless in the fair.
His thick lips were set in a straight, grim line.
Is he mad at me? For not telling him…no. No, that's a silly thing to get mad over. It's too petty to be upset about…but then again…this is Jared we're talking about. He's the king of pettiness! God, I should have brought my sword, not that is would do any good against-
"Who else knows?"
"What?" I left my mouth hanging as I struggled to keep my closed, algae covered eye in place, the automatic blink shuddering through my eyes as Jared's voice broke me out of my reverie. My arm felt dead, wrapped around the hard, tough rope like that.
The smooth white of Jared's right sleeve swept against my numb arm.
He barely moved.
"Who else knows about this…about this Balder? And the sword…who knows of it?"
"Only Scarlett and Circe…I asked Lessie about Balder once, but he would say nothing of it."
"Sparrow knows anything?"
"No, not that I know of anyway…though I'm not sure-"
"Barbossa."
"No. I don't think so."
"Turner?"
"Never."
"Boot-"
"No one, Jared," I breathed out a tired sigh as the wind kicked another one as us, a cold punch right in the stomach, "No one except Scarlett and Circe and now…well, now you too. The four of us are the only ones who know about it."
"Don't you want to tell the captains?"
"What for?"
"You don't trust them?"
"They're pirates, Jared. Who in the right mind would trust a bunch of pirates?"
"We are," he said of matter-of-factly as he turned toward me, a twinkle blooming in each white, beaming eye, "Aren't we?"
I didn't answer him.
For a moment or so, Jared and I said nothing, gazing back out into the sea, into the endless, black-blue gleaming carpet. The cold shuddered through our bodies like quiet wakes, the ship rocking beneath us like gentle tremors. The world was still and quiet, the wind taking in a deep, chilling breaths.
My legs were completely numb.
My eyelid still burned like a bad infection.
My heart lilted a soft melody.
I wonder if the crew have finished eating yet.
For a moment or so, my mind wondered to far away places.
And then, Jared spoke again.
"What are you going to do about it then?"
"What am I suppose to do?" I turned my single eye back at him, blinking it slowly and fluttering the hard other as I stared once more at my brother's silver-clad silhouette, "I'm not even sure all of this…the sword, this Balder character…I'm not even sure it's real-"
"Why would Circe lie to you?"
"She's half-mad, Jared."
"Doesn't make her a liar."
"No…just a creepy cannibal."
"I'm serious, Joey," he flickered his eyes back towards me again, his silver hair tossing like the whipping white-tipped waves below, "Why would Circe lie to you about the gods, the sword, Balder…when she has nothing to gain from it?"
"I don't know. She's mad as a box of frogs. Maybe, in her twisted mind, she finds lying and making up stories rather amusing. I would, if I were her."
"Or she could be telling the truth."
"Maybe-"
"Maybe the Gods really do exist, Joe. Maybe Balder really was a God, and your sword really belongs to him. Maybe you really are Balder's heir."
"I'm seriously questioning that."
"As am I," he nodded once, lips grim, expression dead, "But I see no other reason not to believe it."
"Expect that it sounds completely insane."
"This whole adventure is insane, remember? I'm sure we could handle one more crazy."
"Just one more crazy?"
"Just one more."
A smile, the smallest of smiles touched my lips as I gazed at my brother, staring at his white, blank eyes and his tossing, shadowy-silver face. The wind whipped my curls about me in a fray; for a moment, I just stared at him, letting the smile stain across my lips and soak into my blood. Something warm stirred within my ice-cold shell, bringing life back into me. The world swirled about us in gleaming winks.
My eyelid was still itching like crazy.
My heart was thumping louder.
Jared smiled back.
"Why not?"
TA-DA! End of chapter!
Hope you liked that one guys, though it was really draggy to write, and probably to read too. Sorry for that.
Thanks for all the reviews, guys! LOVE IT! I really appreciate it! If you have anything to say about this story, please leave your comments on my review page, ya?
This week's question is:
Which character annoys you the most?
Tell me what you think folks, and I'll share mine too!
Thanks, guys! Bye for now!
XOXO