Waki 37

Hey, everyone! It's Jiia! I'm not dead! I'm so incredibly sorry for this absurdly long hiatus. Mostly because I said flat out that I would keep updating regularly and then totally didn't. I've got some explaining to do, and some unfortunate news that I must regretfully inform you of.

I'm just going to get right down to it. I'm going to take a break from fanfiction. Yes, you heard me right. Er... Read me right. I've already stopped writing and updating, and plan to maintain this until I work some stuff out. Therefore, this is going to be the last chapter you see for a while. Depending on how well my masterful plan works, this might be the last chapter I ever post. I'll undoubtedly continue to write it for as long as I live, but I need to get to a point in my life where I'm confident enough in my own abilities that I don't need the approval of every single person on earth. That's really what fanfiction is for me, a way to validate my own existence, sad as that is. I need to change that.

In any case, I'm sorry to leave you all hanging like this. I hope to eventually finish all my stories, one of these days. Thank you all for sticking with me through all this, and I hope to talk with you all again someday.

With eternal love, Jiia

"Ye 'ave messed up big time, Mista Jones." The woman's dark lips pursed angrily. "Do ye not remember what I said to ye? 'Do not touch Jack Sparrow, Mista Jones', said I, 'or I'm gon' to curse ye sorry hide inta de next century.'"

"But Calypso!" Jones almost, but not quite, whimpered. "How was I ta know that this were the Jack Sparrow ye spoke ta me of?"

The sea goddess' eyes narrowed dangerously, and she promptly smacked the octopus man upside the squishy head.

"Dere is only one Captain Jack Sparrow sailin' des waters. An' besides, could ye not see me beads in him hair? Dem alone should 'ave told ye dat it were 'im."

"Well, I'm sorry!" Jones rubbed his injured flesh with one chunky claw. "It dinnae occur ta me at the time. An' it's too late ta call the deal off now, isn' it?"

Calypso fixed him with a glare like grey artic ice, her deceptively slight hands planted firmly upon her slender hips.

"What do ya mean, it too late? It had better not be too late, Mista Jones, or ye gon' ta be sleepin' on de couch for a long, long time."

The man's sallow face somehow managed to get even paler. The tentacles protruding from his chin wriggled in agitation.

"Well, we already made the deal, didn' we? I can' jus' preten' like it never 'appened. The man 'as a debt ta pay."

The woman pursed her lips once more, the sharp points of her fingernails biting into her dark flesh.

"Aye… Yer right. Him made de deal, him got to pay de price." She sighed, staring off into the stormy seas just off the Dutchman's bow. "Still, it break me heart, him sadness do."

Jones paused, scratching his tentacled face with his claw. He looked at the sorrowful woman out of the corner of his watery eye. What members of his misshapen crew bothered to watch the two chuckled quietly. They knew that look. That was their captain's "plotting" look. The appearance of that particular look was usually closely followed by mischief of some sort, and mischief was always entertaining.

"Well… Perhaps there is a way ta set things straight." Jones muttered slyly.

"Aye? An' what might dat be, Mista Jones?"

With all the grace and elegance of a two hundred pound squid, Davy Jones began to smile.