A/N: Finally, I have the latest up! Here's a little example of dear Jill's insanity, ladies and gents! Short, true, but madness galore!
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It was dark out, early night, or late evening, depending on how one looked at it, and the moon shone down upon the two pirates ships sailing side by side, the Black Pearl and Crimson Star, with a ghostly pale light. They were both eerily silent, except for the constant crashes and muffled screams and curses coming from the captain's cabin on the Black Pearl. The entirety of the latter ship's crew was dead-afraid of even approaching that particular part of the boat, or even that boat itself, so it was only with a look of utmost dread that Jacob continued to navigate it up on the quarter deck, cringing every time he heard a collision or yell.
Inside that cabin, Jill was throwing around and every object light enough to be thrown, and kicking and shoving any object too heavy to be with a passion, crying out in rage all the while. She'd turned the whole place upside-down for a week, over and over and over again, and what did she have to show for it? Bedcovers strewn around the floor, along with shards of wood and trinkets, the mattress ripped up to shreds. She'd questioned Jack's crew through and through personally, administered the bloody torture personally. Absolutely nothing had been found. Jack's compass was still nowhere to be found, and neither was anything of importance, such as perhaps anything that would point her to Isla de Muerta or perhaps a map to some other treasure island, although she wanted this particular one most of all. There was gold and loot on the ship, true, but hardly an excess, and nothing compared to that Aztec gold.
Jill glared fiercely at all she had found in Jack's quarters: two or three changes of clothes, some spare bullets, and, simply put, a bunch more useless junk. Gritting her teeth together so hard her jaw ached, the female Sparrow bent over, picked up a small wooden replica of a pirate ship, and threw it hard against the door, kicking it with all her might as it bounced right back. It flew off somewhere to her right, battered and broken with the mast snapped in two.
"Just. PERFECT!" she screamed, grabbing her hair and pulling at if out of severe frustration. Being that it was down, this was very simple to do, but did not really abate her anger in the least. Still very on edge, she kicked the cabin wall with all of her strength, muttering a curse under her breath at the pain this caused. "And now, you're bloody DEAD, aren't ya, Jack? Bloody, JACK! Bloody, BROTHER! Where did you PUT it? Bloody 'ELL!"
Walking out of the doorway into the next room of the exceptionally large cabin, she turned back to the bed, kicking it as hard as she could as well, swearing in pain, until finally storming from the cabin in its entirety, coming out the door and subsequently climbing the stairs up to the quarter-deck absentmindedly, not really noticing what she was doing until she came face to face with Jacob, freezing him fully. She must have glared at him for at least a full minute before turning and marching down the stairs again. He gasped and jerked the wheel sharply to the right the moment he realized how far the ship had drifted from its course during the span of that minute. Jill would kill him if she noticed. Literally.
If that compass was anywhere, Jill mused to herself, then it had to still be on her dear brother. She must have missed something the last time she'd searched him. That compass was either still on him, or the secret of the Isla de Muerta had died with him, and that was not something Jill was willing to accept. That was her island by rights, and she would not let his death ruin it!
The Black Pearl as good as shook as the pirate captain made her way to the ratlines and began her climb up. Everyone was watching her, even from the neighboring ship. They all pretended as if they were going about their regular duties, of course; heads were turned away. But all eyes followed her up.
"A'right you bunch o' mangy swine!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, gripping the ropes with one hand while her raven hair billowed this way and that. It was a clear night, clear, but a bit windy. Every single person on both ships both saw and heard her perfectly. "Ye bloody morons turns this ship back 'round and take us back to tha' island we left dear Jack on! Ye do 'at bloody now, or I'm gonna feed you all to the sharks meself!" Her orders were passed on quickly to those few who for some reason had been below-deck or for some reason had not fully gotten the full gist of them, and were hurried to be followed out in 5 seconds flat. Not fast enough. Taking out her pistol, Jill slid down a rope hanging across, and shot the first one of her men that she saw. He keeled over, dead.
Jill landed on deck, putting her pistol back in its proper place. "Well, what're ye all starin' at?" she demanded. "Someone go and clean that up!"
And with that, she took hold of yet another rope and swung over to her own ship, the Crimson Star, and calmly made her way into her own cabin, leaving the men on the Black Pearl to throw Jacob's body overboard, clean up the blood, and take over the wheel.
No, Captain Jill Sparrow's crew would never mutiny and strand her upon some lonely isle. They were all too terrified of her to even think it.