Call Me Captain
Part Two: Spider's Snare
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
(Scientific Fact! Reviews = faster writing, j/k)
*this is more of a filler post- it had to be written to jump to the fighting sequence that will pick up in the next chapter*
~@~
Jack entered the dark gloom of the cave as if he was stepping across the threshold of his own home. The familiar caverns and shadows were almost becoming a daily sight to him. Taking the large branch of tunnels to the right, he swaggered his way between, rock, gold, and skeleton. If he had a bit more time on his hand, he would surely be filling his hat up now with small trinkets.
"Buy a good rum with that one," Jack murmured to himself as he passed a small golden statue. His voice echoed softly from rock to rock; words bouncing off each other and shivering in the silence that fell upon them.
He could begin to hear the soft chants of pirates, cheering for blood and freedom. Once again, this sound was becoming all too familiar. Jack sighed and made his way into the large chamber. His eyes scanned the room quickly. Everything was the same. Pirates to his left. Pirates to his right. Gold stacked high and proud. Standing water rimming the edge of the festival pirate seating. Large mound of gold ahead, as a little island.
What's with me an islands, he asked himself.
And there he was. Barbossa, as always, standing with foot up on the treasure chest and the other stamping at the gold beneath him, hoping to emphasize his words with dramatic flinging of his arms and blazing yellowed eyes. He spoke with such enthusiasm that it did not matter what he was saying, as long as he was saying it with a toothy smile and lofty tones. The loose clothing of Barbossa flung wildly with him, sending shadows across the cavern walls. His hat was lopsided now from his dramatic monologue of freedom, satisfaction, blood repaid, and the works. His ashen skin barely peeked up when his lips moved and wrinkles of sun-worn days cut at his raw face.
Barbossa's yellow speckled eyes danced wildly from face to face.
Is this how I'm going to look when I'm ancient, Jack thought with a sudden fear. He cringed at the thought and secretly agreed with himself to fall upon a dagger before he rotted to that point.
As he made his way up to the island, his lost crew began to take notice of him. Their chants ceased and transformed to whispers of admonished swears and gaping jaws. Barbossa's cries still filled the chamber, as he was not taking notice of his audience's mood swing.
"And now, the last of the gold is here, within our grasp." He began to fade away as he spotted the new comer to the crowd.
"Jack!" Jack's eyes strayed from Barbossa's wide-eyes for a moment and fell upon the form of a crouching Will Turner. His back was bent and the medallion spun uneasily at his neck. The boy looked worse for the wear. His hair fell soggily around his face and his eyes were bloodshot from his stay in the gallows. A small amount of color returned to his face as he spotted Jack and a flicker of hope passed across his brown eyes.
Sorry sight for a pirate, Jack thought to himself as he gave the boy a nod and looked away promptly.
"It's impossible," Barbossa muttered, blinking his eyes fast to make sure he was not being haunted by a demon-ghost or worse.
"Improbable, yes. Impossible, nooooo," Jack slurred, as he made his way to the edge of the island. His boots sank in the water and he felt an odd satisfaction of shifting coins beneath his feet.
"You're too late, Jaaack," Barbossa slurred, as he always did with Jack's name. A feverish glint awakened his yellow eyes and he brought his dagger close to Will's throat.
Jack's heart raced. A smile crept up his face for the briefest moment and then he put on the mask of disinterest at once. He crossed his arms and slouched his shoulders.
"I wouldn't be doing that if I were you."
"Well, you're not," Barbossa spit angrily and began to lick his lips in anticipation of blood being spilt.
"Your funeral," Jack shrugged, and waited for the response. He watched intensely as Barbossa stood motionless for a second. Come on, Jack thought desperately, come on!
He blew out a small sigh of relief as Barbossa's head turned to face Jack.
Still got it, don't you Jacky ol' boy, Jack thought with a sudden pleasure as he spun his plan and wove his web of lies as easily as a black widow strings a glistening tread around a mast's base. The delicate mastery of precision with barely detectable silk was unavoidable. Soon, a spectator would come, drooling over the sight of such a intricacy. Then, in a second, the world of the watcher would crumble as their limbs were held prisoner by the very magic they had marveled at.
Out of the shadows would the true master come, walking stealthy over to their prey. They would watch in slight interest as their captured struggled to untangle themselves, as the sky fell down upon them, burdening all hope of escape with the single knowledge that the crafter of such a deathly amusement was blinking eyes of mirth their way.
The spindles of light in which they had praised would become the shackles of darkness as the venom of the predator leaked through their weak bodies. Just before the world faded from their eyes, they would see the true face of their betrayer, of their maligned master.
And now, Jack waited in patience until the right moment, his own gold medallion tucked safely between the wraps of around his wrist. The rest of the pirates had gone off to meet with Norrington's men. Now, he waited alone in the cave with Barbossa and Will, who was being held by three pirates.
The time had come. Sword in hand, he approached his betrayed prey. Will scrambled to his right and fought desperately against the other three pirates.
Sword upon sword. Step here, dodge there. Barbossa's feather split in two. Barbossa's anger. Step here, slash there. Grin annoyingly here. Block swipe to head now. Stab there. Twirl here. Make way up slope. Hear threat now. Shrug in disinterest again. Flick wrist and stab.
With beauty does the spider snare. With wit does the pirate trick. And both bask in the glory of their catch.
~@~
TBC! Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
(Scientific Fact! Reviews = faster writing, j/k)
*this is more of a filler post- it had to be written to jump to the fighting sequence that will pick up in the next chapter*
~@~
Jack entered the dark gloom of the cave as if he was stepping across the threshold of his own home. The familiar caverns and shadows were almost becoming a daily sight to him. Taking the large branch of tunnels to the right, he swaggered his way between, rock, gold, and skeleton. If he had a bit more time on his hand, he would surely be filling his hat up now with small trinkets.
"Buy a good rum with that one," Jack murmured to himself as he passed a small golden statue. His voice echoed softly from rock to rock; words bouncing off each other and shivering in the silence that fell upon them.
He could begin to hear the soft chants of pirates, cheering for blood and freedom. Once again, this sound was becoming all too familiar. Jack sighed and made his way into the large chamber. His eyes scanned the room quickly. Everything was the same. Pirates to his left. Pirates to his right. Gold stacked high and proud. Standing water rimming the edge of the festival pirate seating. Large mound of gold ahead, as a little island.
What's with me an islands, he asked himself.
And there he was. Barbossa, as always, standing with foot up on the treasure chest and the other stamping at the gold beneath him, hoping to emphasize his words with dramatic flinging of his arms and blazing yellowed eyes. He spoke with such enthusiasm that it did not matter what he was saying, as long as he was saying it with a toothy smile and lofty tones. The loose clothing of Barbossa flung wildly with him, sending shadows across the cavern walls. His hat was lopsided now from his dramatic monologue of freedom, satisfaction, blood repaid, and the works. His ashen skin barely peeked up when his lips moved and wrinkles of sun-worn days cut at his raw face.
Barbossa's yellow speckled eyes danced wildly from face to face.
Is this how I'm going to look when I'm ancient, Jack thought with a sudden fear. He cringed at the thought and secretly agreed with himself to fall upon a dagger before he rotted to that point.
As he made his way up to the island, his lost crew began to take notice of him. Their chants ceased and transformed to whispers of admonished swears and gaping jaws. Barbossa's cries still filled the chamber, as he was not taking notice of his audience's mood swing.
"And now, the last of the gold is here, within our grasp." He began to fade away as he spotted the new comer to the crowd.
"Jack!" Jack's eyes strayed from Barbossa's wide-eyes for a moment and fell upon the form of a crouching Will Turner. His back was bent and the medallion spun uneasily at his neck. The boy looked worse for the wear. His hair fell soggily around his face and his eyes were bloodshot from his stay in the gallows. A small amount of color returned to his face as he spotted Jack and a flicker of hope passed across his brown eyes.
Sorry sight for a pirate, Jack thought to himself as he gave the boy a nod and looked away promptly.
"It's impossible," Barbossa muttered, blinking his eyes fast to make sure he was not being haunted by a demon-ghost or worse.
"Improbable, yes. Impossible, nooooo," Jack slurred, as he made his way to the edge of the island. His boots sank in the water and he felt an odd satisfaction of shifting coins beneath his feet.
"You're too late, Jaaack," Barbossa slurred, as he always did with Jack's name. A feverish glint awakened his yellow eyes and he brought his dagger close to Will's throat.
Jack's heart raced. A smile crept up his face for the briefest moment and then he put on the mask of disinterest at once. He crossed his arms and slouched his shoulders.
"I wouldn't be doing that if I were you."
"Well, you're not," Barbossa spit angrily and began to lick his lips in anticipation of blood being spilt.
"Your funeral," Jack shrugged, and waited for the response. He watched intensely as Barbossa stood motionless for a second. Come on, Jack thought desperately, come on!
He blew out a small sigh of relief as Barbossa's head turned to face Jack.
Still got it, don't you Jacky ol' boy, Jack thought with a sudden pleasure as he spun his plan and wove his web of lies as easily as a black widow strings a glistening tread around a mast's base. The delicate mastery of precision with barely detectable silk was unavoidable. Soon, a spectator would come, drooling over the sight of such a intricacy. Then, in a second, the world of the watcher would crumble as their limbs were held prisoner by the very magic they had marveled at.
Out of the shadows would the true master come, walking stealthy over to their prey. They would watch in slight interest as their captured struggled to untangle themselves, as the sky fell down upon them, burdening all hope of escape with the single knowledge that the crafter of such a deathly amusement was blinking eyes of mirth their way.
The spindles of light in which they had praised would become the shackles of darkness as the venom of the predator leaked through their weak bodies. Just before the world faded from their eyes, they would see the true face of their betrayer, of their maligned master.
And now, Jack waited in patience until the right moment, his own gold medallion tucked safely between the wraps of around his wrist. The rest of the pirates had gone off to meet with Norrington's men. Now, he waited alone in the cave with Barbossa and Will, who was being held by three pirates.
The time had come. Sword in hand, he approached his betrayed prey. Will scrambled to his right and fought desperately against the other three pirates.
Sword upon sword. Step here, dodge there. Barbossa's feather split in two. Barbossa's anger. Step here, slash there. Grin annoyingly here. Block swipe to head now. Stab there. Twirl here. Make way up slope. Hear threat now. Shrug in disinterest again. Flick wrist and stab.
With beauty does the spider snare. With wit does the pirate trick. And both bask in the glory of their catch.
~@~
TBC! Thanks!
