Updating, tra la la la. Fanfiction.net is being uncooperative right now, and so I cannot post anything because there doesn't seem to be a damn server to be found anywhere on the site (how can you lose a server, anyway? For all the "cannot find server" messages that pop up on this site, you have to wonder where they keep all their servers. I picture a room full of dusty old servers, lots of clutter, empty soda cans...) But enough complaining.
Someone commented on how Norrington is too stereotypically "woe is me, I'm sexually repressed." I can see what you mean, but at the same time, Norrington's function in the movie is to be stereotypical and repressive. I mean, this guy doesn't just have a stick up his arse, he's got an entire tree trunk. He loosens up a bit at the end, in tried-and-true sappy Disney fashion, but he's still Joe Anal-Retentive in a powdered wig. Hmm...Joe...Joseph Norrington...that sounds good, too...maybe it's his middle name?
I agree that Norrington should have something to make his personality more original, but until I can think of a good way to make him original, he's going to stick with the sexually-repressed schpiel, because that can have some fun twists to it, too. I mean think about it...he's like some kind of really weird hybrid of Inspector Javert and Eponine. It's like a really bad Les Miz romancefic.
Oh, and to my flamer, Pearlygurl: Thank you! I've finally been slash-flamed! The girls at the Slashers' Coven were so proud of me--I'm finally a full member now! And now I can sic them on you! *squeals* This is going to be so much fun! *rushes off to find Kat T, Schleamon-rhymes-with-demon and Deanie the Return-Flame Queen*
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"You!"
Jack grinned. "'Ello, love." He blocked the door with his hand to prevent the commodore slamming it shut, and immobilized him with his sultriest gaze, guaranteed to make even the hardiest of men and women melt into small puddles on the floor.
Norrington panicked. He'd never been on the receiving end of that kind of look from *anyone,* let alone the very man he was supposed to have hung two days ago. "Get out!" he cried, trying in vain to shut the door. It was uncanny how Jack seemed to be able to read one's mind with a single glance. "Get out, leave me alone, go away, cease and desist..."
"Oh, come now." Jack pushed past him easily, closed the door himself and locked it securely. "You can't tell me you aren't happy to see me."
"I never wanted to see you again!" snapped Norrington. "You're the last person I want to see right now!"
He was uncomfortably aware of Jack's good looks, and noted especially the long, slender, skillful-looking hands. The hands in his dream had been like that. He blanched and staggered backwards towards the bed. "Get away from me!" he cried, raising a hand to ward off Jack, who hadn't moved an inch from his place near the door.
"Do you welcome all your visitors this warmly, or just me?" Jack smiled disarmingly and leaned against the door. "Nice nightshirt, by the way. Sleep in a bit late?"
Norrington realized only then that he hadn't bothered to get dressed, and crimsoned furiously, stammering and pulling the blanket up over his lap. Never in his worst nightmares had he imagined a scenario like this. It was akin to the dreams he occasionally had about showing up naked for drill and having the entire regiment laugh at him. Those dreams usually ended with him falling off the bridge and waking up just before he hit the rocks, but here he felt as though he were drowning. The entire scene had somewhat of a surreal quality to it...was it actually happening? "Am I dreaming?" he demanded, sincerely hoping the answer was yes.
Jack shrugged. "Do you want to be dreaming, love?"
"Yes," said Norrington decisively. "Yes, I do."
"Then you're dreaming." Jack crossed the room to join Norrington on the bed, slipping a sensual arm around the commodore's lithe waist. "And I daresay it's going to be a pleasant dream."
(A/N: I could end the chapter here, but I'm not that mean. Unlike some people I could mention, who leave their story at a crucial point and go off on vacation to Cape Cod without letting us know what happens to Norrington...hey, wait, I did that too. Never mind, I can't be complaining.)
Norrington had the distinct feeling that none of it was really a dream, but his capacity for argument was rather diminished by the way the pirate was lightly caressing his thigh, sliding the other arm around his shoulders and playing idly with his hair. "Why...why are you here?" he breathed, too dizzy to care how undignified he must look.
"Because I believe some thanks are in order," murmured Jack. "And a 'thank you' from Captain Jack Sparrow is a bit of a rare treat indeed."
"I can imagine..." Why was he sitting back and letting all this happen to him? Why couldn't he summon the energy to care? Jack, too, noticed this, with a slight degree of amusement.
"Not putting up much of a fight, are you, love?"
"Get off me and we'll see how much of a fight I can put up," Norrington said, trying and failing to disentangle himself from Jack's loose embrace. Jack laughed.
"But that would defeat the entire reason I've come here."
"What, pray tell, is the reason you've come here? Surely you haven't risked your life simply to sneak into my chambers and embarrass me." Norrington's tone had regained a bit of its usual causticness, the effect of which was lost on the incorrigible pirate.
"No," he said, "I haven't." Jack grinned predatorially. "I've come here to do this."
He slipped an arm around the commodore's neck and pulled him into a slow, sensual kiss, the like of which Norrington couldn't remember experiencing in nearly 12 years. Frightened, he edged away. The dreamlike quality of the scene was lost; that kiss had been all too real, and he realized for the first time the situation he was in. He was sitting there, in nothing but his nightshirt, flirting with a pirate.
"They certainly didn't cover *this* in standard Navy training," he murmured.
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There's yer chapter, mates. Hot off the press. And now I have no clue what I'm going to do from here, so I'll need more inspiration from Elske and her "One Night More" fic. Ha! I have leverage! *dances*
A bit of bad news for Robert-fans: I'm really going to have to change his name. I simply can't stand the idea of giving a character a normal, boring name. I mean, everyone else in the movie gets a cool name! Weatherby Swann, Joshamee Gibbs, so on and so forth. And I've been calling Norrington "Lysander Catullus" in my head for about a week now. *sigh* I pity my future children.
Ave atque vale,
--Jehan's Muse
Someone commented on how Norrington is too stereotypically "woe is me, I'm sexually repressed." I can see what you mean, but at the same time, Norrington's function in the movie is to be stereotypical and repressive. I mean, this guy doesn't just have a stick up his arse, he's got an entire tree trunk. He loosens up a bit at the end, in tried-and-true sappy Disney fashion, but he's still Joe Anal-Retentive in a powdered wig. Hmm...Joe...Joseph Norrington...that sounds good, too...maybe it's his middle name?
I agree that Norrington should have something to make his personality more original, but until I can think of a good way to make him original, he's going to stick with the sexually-repressed schpiel, because that can have some fun twists to it, too. I mean think about it...he's like some kind of really weird hybrid of Inspector Javert and Eponine. It's like a really bad Les Miz romancefic.
Oh, and to my flamer, Pearlygurl: Thank you! I've finally been slash-flamed! The girls at the Slashers' Coven were so proud of me--I'm finally a full member now! And now I can sic them on you! *squeals* This is going to be so much fun! *rushes off to find Kat T, Schleamon-rhymes-with-demon and Deanie the Return-Flame Queen*
---------------------
"You!"
Jack grinned. "'Ello, love." He blocked the door with his hand to prevent the commodore slamming it shut, and immobilized him with his sultriest gaze, guaranteed to make even the hardiest of men and women melt into small puddles on the floor.
Norrington panicked. He'd never been on the receiving end of that kind of look from *anyone,* let alone the very man he was supposed to have hung two days ago. "Get out!" he cried, trying in vain to shut the door. It was uncanny how Jack seemed to be able to read one's mind with a single glance. "Get out, leave me alone, go away, cease and desist..."
"Oh, come now." Jack pushed past him easily, closed the door himself and locked it securely. "You can't tell me you aren't happy to see me."
"I never wanted to see you again!" snapped Norrington. "You're the last person I want to see right now!"
He was uncomfortably aware of Jack's good looks, and noted especially the long, slender, skillful-looking hands. The hands in his dream had been like that. He blanched and staggered backwards towards the bed. "Get away from me!" he cried, raising a hand to ward off Jack, who hadn't moved an inch from his place near the door.
"Do you welcome all your visitors this warmly, or just me?" Jack smiled disarmingly and leaned against the door. "Nice nightshirt, by the way. Sleep in a bit late?"
Norrington realized only then that he hadn't bothered to get dressed, and crimsoned furiously, stammering and pulling the blanket up over his lap. Never in his worst nightmares had he imagined a scenario like this. It was akin to the dreams he occasionally had about showing up naked for drill and having the entire regiment laugh at him. Those dreams usually ended with him falling off the bridge and waking up just before he hit the rocks, but here he felt as though he were drowning. The entire scene had somewhat of a surreal quality to it...was it actually happening? "Am I dreaming?" he demanded, sincerely hoping the answer was yes.
Jack shrugged. "Do you want to be dreaming, love?"
"Yes," said Norrington decisively. "Yes, I do."
"Then you're dreaming." Jack crossed the room to join Norrington on the bed, slipping a sensual arm around the commodore's lithe waist. "And I daresay it's going to be a pleasant dream."
(A/N: I could end the chapter here, but I'm not that mean. Unlike some people I could mention, who leave their story at a crucial point and go off on vacation to Cape Cod without letting us know what happens to Norrington...hey, wait, I did that too. Never mind, I can't be complaining.)
Norrington had the distinct feeling that none of it was really a dream, but his capacity for argument was rather diminished by the way the pirate was lightly caressing his thigh, sliding the other arm around his shoulders and playing idly with his hair. "Why...why are you here?" he breathed, too dizzy to care how undignified he must look.
"Because I believe some thanks are in order," murmured Jack. "And a 'thank you' from Captain Jack Sparrow is a bit of a rare treat indeed."
"I can imagine..." Why was he sitting back and letting all this happen to him? Why couldn't he summon the energy to care? Jack, too, noticed this, with a slight degree of amusement.
"Not putting up much of a fight, are you, love?"
"Get off me and we'll see how much of a fight I can put up," Norrington said, trying and failing to disentangle himself from Jack's loose embrace. Jack laughed.
"But that would defeat the entire reason I've come here."
"What, pray tell, is the reason you've come here? Surely you haven't risked your life simply to sneak into my chambers and embarrass me." Norrington's tone had regained a bit of its usual causticness, the effect of which was lost on the incorrigible pirate.
"No," he said, "I haven't." Jack grinned predatorially. "I've come here to do this."
He slipped an arm around the commodore's neck and pulled him into a slow, sensual kiss, the like of which Norrington couldn't remember experiencing in nearly 12 years. Frightened, he edged away. The dreamlike quality of the scene was lost; that kiss had been all too real, and he realized for the first time the situation he was in. He was sitting there, in nothing but his nightshirt, flirting with a pirate.
"They certainly didn't cover *this* in standard Navy training," he murmured.
--------------------
There's yer chapter, mates. Hot off the press. And now I have no clue what I'm going to do from here, so I'll need more inspiration from Elske and her "One Night More" fic. Ha! I have leverage! *dances*
A bit of bad news for Robert-fans: I'm really going to have to change his name. I simply can't stand the idea of giving a character a normal, boring name. I mean, everyone else in the movie gets a cool name! Weatherby Swann, Joshamee Gibbs, so on and so forth. And I've been calling Norrington "Lysander Catullus" in my head for about a week now. *sigh* I pity my future children.
Ave atque vale,
--Jehan's Muse