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AN: This is my first attempt at writing in a long time, and my first shot at a PotC story. This means I am quite rusty, and the story might not be very good. While I don't want you to overlook flaws and mistakes, I ask you to be as polite as possible.
Disclaimer: All the characters in this story, as well as the town of Creede Bay, belong to me. Do not re-use them without my permission. The Black Pearl and general concept of PotC is copyrighted by Walt Disney Pictures.
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Everyone in Creede Bay always said there was something wrong with Jahnalenna Katheryne Doyle, youngest child of the old merchant family. The Doyles sold textiles to the women of the city, and were widely known for their fine dresses and accessories. The parents were average and respectable; rich, but not too rich. Polite, but not too polite. Good- looking, but not too good-looking. Their oldest child was a boy named Daniel, who was following in his father's footsteps and learning to run the family business. The second child was a girl they called Miriam Marie, and she was what a girl was expected to be at the time; quiet, respectful, and obedient.
Their last child was Jahnalenna, who preferred to play war with the boys of Creede Bay, and abhorred her role in life. Jahnalenna was perhaps the reason the Doyles decided to stop having children. Though her parents did the best they could, hiring her a tutor, buying her the best dresses and sending her to finishing classes, Jaghnalenna was never what they hoped she would be. She was wild, rebellious, and to the horror of her mother and sister, often tracked dirt into the house.
It was on one such incident of her bringing a few specks of dust into the sparkling parlor that she was angrily sent outside until she was 'cleaned up after.'
Jahnalenna, by then calling herself 'Johnny,' would not usually have minded, but she was terribly hungry and it was getting quite cold outside. She paced back and forth before the ornate wooden door to her house, hugging a hand-me-down jacket from her brother tightly around her shoulders. Young Johnny was about to give up and go back inside anyway, no matter how dirty her boots were, when her sharp ears caught strains of yelling, floating up from the beach. Not willing to miss anything exciting that might happen, the girl skipped down the rocky face of the cliff the town was built on, and down to the sandy beach. A gaggle of some of her friends stood on the shore, staring out to see. She joined them, and followed their gaze across the gray, silent water.
There was a ship on the horizon, it's white sails piercing the pale blue sky. A pirate ship.
"I bet it's the Black Pearl!" Henry, a tall, blonde youth speculated.
"And it's coming for us!" Breathed the slightly chubby Peter, standing right at Johnny's side.
"Nonsense, boys." Claimed Phillip, the unofficial leader of the group. He did not make any adjustments to his statement because of Johnny. To them, she was just another boy and the fact that she was a girl made no difference. "It's headed South. Probably going to Spain. Plus, the Pearl has black sails, not white."
"Should we tell someone?" Johnny asked, squinting her brown eyes in an attempt to get a better look at the ship.
"What're they gonna do? They'll just lock us all up at home 'till it's gone." They all fell silent after that, gazes fixed on the sailing ship. All of them were curious and interested, but Johnny most of all. Though it was at least twenty miles away, she felt as if she could hear the sounds of the ship; feet pounding on the wooden deck, the captain bawling out commands. She closed her eyes for a breath and imagined standing on the bow of the ship, the silver spray cleansing her face and the chilly wind blowing back her unruly reddish hair. Their supplies came from the other side of the bay, so there was no reason for ships to drop anchor here; Johnny couldn't even remember the last time she had seen one.
The group gave a start as they heard a resounding boom roll across the water. Quickly, they searched around for the source of it, then each of them jumped again as Johnny yelled and pointed slightly to the West.
"Look! Another ship!" As she claimed, another vessel, this one sporting black sails, had sailed into view. It soon became evident is was rapidly pursuing the first. Johnny held her breath as the first ship strained to keep ahead, sails billowing full of temperamental ocean wind. But it was no use. At last, the black-sailed ship pulled even with the other. A cloud of smoke and another boom emitted from the second ship.
"They're fighting!" Peter said, alarmed. Johnny rested her elbow on the shorter boy's shoulder, clucking in a condescending manner.
"No Peter, they're just playing a game of tag. Of course their fighting." Despite her nonchalant attitude, the girl was obviously enthralled. As were the rest of her comrades, judging by the silence broken only by cannonball shots. Back and forth the two boats traded blows, until both ships seemed ready to give up the ghost. Then, the black-sailed ship shot one last cannonball, and even before it struck, everyone on shore somehow knew that would be the last one.
And it was. Slowly, the second ship sank below the waves, turning in a slow circle as if it were being sucked down a drain. Johnny was again transported by her imagination to the decks of the winning ship, the raucous cheers of the crew assaulted her ears. She grinned in silent triumph, then turned to her peers and found that they were dead silent. Eager to lift the sullen mood, she snatched a piece of driftwood off the ground and wielded it like a sword, shouting the first pirate phrases that came to mind.
"Come on, you filthy bandits! A long walk off a short plank for you! Bloody black-hearted bilge rats! Arrgh!" No one responded. She poked Phillip in the arm with her impromptu sword, slightly put-off by being ignored. They had always been in the mood for play-fights before, sometimes even more-so than she.
"Quit it, Johnny." He muttered, pushing the stick of wood away. Slowly, he trudged back up the steep path towards Creede Bay. The others followed quietly as Johnny watched in disbelief, her wooden weapon hanging limply from one hand. When they disappeared, she turned around and sat down on the sand, crossing her arms petulantly.
"Cowards." She muttered, feeling her heart sink as the fascinating black- sailed ship majestically made it's way out of view, amidst a cloud of fog. Johnny heaved a sigh and rested her chin on her knees, unable to tear her eyes away from the sea. Why hadn't they wanted to celebrate? The black- sailed ship had won, after all. Though she knew not the name or crew of either ship, she had sided with the black one without thought. Perhaps she wouldn't have cared who won and who lost. Perhaps she was just bloodthirsty. Johnny's contemplations on that matter wound on for a long time, until a plank of wood washed up on shore and nudged her feet. She stood and picked the large slab of wood up, examining it. Slowly, her eyes trailed back up to the ocean and she beheld an army of wreckage floating on the waves towards her. She allowed the chunk of wood to fall from her hands as she watched, open-mouthed. Jahnalenna walked a few steps to the left and scooped up a glass bottle as it hit shore; it's insides sloshing with some kind of alcoholic drink. The girl undid the cork and sniffed the mouth, then upended the whole bottle. Dark, golden-brown liquid sloshed out, along with a smell so strong and bitter that it made her dizzy. Dropping the bottle and moving on, she picked up each treasure from the fallen ship and examined it closely. She discovered a water-logged black three-cornered hat, which she promptly put on her head; a drawer from a finely-crafted armoire, golden handles and all; a bag that obviously contained maps at one time, but was left with only a few soggy scraps of paper; a porcelain doll with dusky skin and long black hair, still beautiful even though it was soaking wet and missing one emerald eye; and last among her discoveries was an eerie piece of gold. It was obviously not currency, as she'd never seen anything like it, and there was a grinning skull imprinted on it. Johnny buffed the dirty coin on her sleeve and looked it over again, but was interrupted by a shrill call from above.
"Jahnalenna Doyle! Where have you gone?! Jahnalenna!" It was her mother. The young girl winced as each syllable of her mother's piercing voice stabbed into her mind. She glanced at the coin, clutching it tightly in her small, pale hand. Her mother would not like her bringing the doll or the hat she had found into the house, and much less this strange, eerie piece of gold that had come from a pirate ship. She shivered as she imagined a pirate captain lounging in his cabin, counting his stolen treasure. With that image in mind, she smiled slyly and tucked the gold into her pocket. Then, clutching the porcelain doll to her chest and the sopping hat to her head, she scurried up the dirt path with the gold clinking in her pocket.
AN: This is my first attempt at writing in a long time, and my first shot at a PotC story. This means I am quite rusty, and the story might not be very good. While I don't want you to overlook flaws and mistakes, I ask you to be as polite as possible.
Disclaimer: All the characters in this story, as well as the town of Creede Bay, belong to me. Do not re-use them without my permission. The Black Pearl and general concept of PotC is copyrighted by Walt Disney Pictures.
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Everyone in Creede Bay always said there was something wrong with Jahnalenna Katheryne Doyle, youngest child of the old merchant family. The Doyles sold textiles to the women of the city, and were widely known for their fine dresses and accessories. The parents were average and respectable; rich, but not too rich. Polite, but not too polite. Good- looking, but not too good-looking. Their oldest child was a boy named Daniel, who was following in his father's footsteps and learning to run the family business. The second child was a girl they called Miriam Marie, and she was what a girl was expected to be at the time; quiet, respectful, and obedient.
Their last child was Jahnalenna, who preferred to play war with the boys of Creede Bay, and abhorred her role in life. Jahnalenna was perhaps the reason the Doyles decided to stop having children. Though her parents did the best they could, hiring her a tutor, buying her the best dresses and sending her to finishing classes, Jaghnalenna was never what they hoped she would be. She was wild, rebellious, and to the horror of her mother and sister, often tracked dirt into the house.
It was on one such incident of her bringing a few specks of dust into the sparkling parlor that she was angrily sent outside until she was 'cleaned up after.'
Jahnalenna, by then calling herself 'Johnny,' would not usually have minded, but she was terribly hungry and it was getting quite cold outside. She paced back and forth before the ornate wooden door to her house, hugging a hand-me-down jacket from her brother tightly around her shoulders. Young Johnny was about to give up and go back inside anyway, no matter how dirty her boots were, when her sharp ears caught strains of yelling, floating up from the beach. Not willing to miss anything exciting that might happen, the girl skipped down the rocky face of the cliff the town was built on, and down to the sandy beach. A gaggle of some of her friends stood on the shore, staring out to see. She joined them, and followed their gaze across the gray, silent water.
There was a ship on the horizon, it's white sails piercing the pale blue sky. A pirate ship.
"I bet it's the Black Pearl!" Henry, a tall, blonde youth speculated.
"And it's coming for us!" Breathed the slightly chubby Peter, standing right at Johnny's side.
"Nonsense, boys." Claimed Phillip, the unofficial leader of the group. He did not make any adjustments to his statement because of Johnny. To them, she was just another boy and the fact that she was a girl made no difference. "It's headed South. Probably going to Spain. Plus, the Pearl has black sails, not white."
"Should we tell someone?" Johnny asked, squinting her brown eyes in an attempt to get a better look at the ship.
"What're they gonna do? They'll just lock us all up at home 'till it's gone." They all fell silent after that, gazes fixed on the sailing ship. All of them were curious and interested, but Johnny most of all. Though it was at least twenty miles away, she felt as if she could hear the sounds of the ship; feet pounding on the wooden deck, the captain bawling out commands. She closed her eyes for a breath and imagined standing on the bow of the ship, the silver spray cleansing her face and the chilly wind blowing back her unruly reddish hair. Their supplies came from the other side of the bay, so there was no reason for ships to drop anchor here; Johnny couldn't even remember the last time she had seen one.
The group gave a start as they heard a resounding boom roll across the water. Quickly, they searched around for the source of it, then each of them jumped again as Johnny yelled and pointed slightly to the West.
"Look! Another ship!" As she claimed, another vessel, this one sporting black sails, had sailed into view. It soon became evident is was rapidly pursuing the first. Johnny held her breath as the first ship strained to keep ahead, sails billowing full of temperamental ocean wind. But it was no use. At last, the black-sailed ship pulled even with the other. A cloud of smoke and another boom emitted from the second ship.
"They're fighting!" Peter said, alarmed. Johnny rested her elbow on the shorter boy's shoulder, clucking in a condescending manner.
"No Peter, they're just playing a game of tag. Of course their fighting." Despite her nonchalant attitude, the girl was obviously enthralled. As were the rest of her comrades, judging by the silence broken only by cannonball shots. Back and forth the two boats traded blows, until both ships seemed ready to give up the ghost. Then, the black-sailed ship shot one last cannonball, and even before it struck, everyone on shore somehow knew that would be the last one.
And it was. Slowly, the second ship sank below the waves, turning in a slow circle as if it were being sucked down a drain. Johnny was again transported by her imagination to the decks of the winning ship, the raucous cheers of the crew assaulted her ears. She grinned in silent triumph, then turned to her peers and found that they were dead silent. Eager to lift the sullen mood, she snatched a piece of driftwood off the ground and wielded it like a sword, shouting the first pirate phrases that came to mind.
"Come on, you filthy bandits! A long walk off a short plank for you! Bloody black-hearted bilge rats! Arrgh!" No one responded. She poked Phillip in the arm with her impromptu sword, slightly put-off by being ignored. They had always been in the mood for play-fights before, sometimes even more-so than she.
"Quit it, Johnny." He muttered, pushing the stick of wood away. Slowly, he trudged back up the steep path towards Creede Bay. The others followed quietly as Johnny watched in disbelief, her wooden weapon hanging limply from one hand. When they disappeared, she turned around and sat down on the sand, crossing her arms petulantly.
"Cowards." She muttered, feeling her heart sink as the fascinating black- sailed ship majestically made it's way out of view, amidst a cloud of fog. Johnny heaved a sigh and rested her chin on her knees, unable to tear her eyes away from the sea. Why hadn't they wanted to celebrate? The black- sailed ship had won, after all. Though she knew not the name or crew of either ship, she had sided with the black one without thought. Perhaps she wouldn't have cared who won and who lost. Perhaps she was just bloodthirsty. Johnny's contemplations on that matter wound on for a long time, until a plank of wood washed up on shore and nudged her feet. She stood and picked the large slab of wood up, examining it. Slowly, her eyes trailed back up to the ocean and she beheld an army of wreckage floating on the waves towards her. She allowed the chunk of wood to fall from her hands as she watched, open-mouthed. Jahnalenna walked a few steps to the left and scooped up a glass bottle as it hit shore; it's insides sloshing with some kind of alcoholic drink. The girl undid the cork and sniffed the mouth, then upended the whole bottle. Dark, golden-brown liquid sloshed out, along with a smell so strong and bitter that it made her dizzy. Dropping the bottle and moving on, she picked up each treasure from the fallen ship and examined it closely. She discovered a water-logged black three-cornered hat, which she promptly put on her head; a drawer from a finely-crafted armoire, golden handles and all; a bag that obviously contained maps at one time, but was left with only a few soggy scraps of paper; a porcelain doll with dusky skin and long black hair, still beautiful even though it was soaking wet and missing one emerald eye; and last among her discoveries was an eerie piece of gold. It was obviously not currency, as she'd never seen anything like it, and there was a grinning skull imprinted on it. Johnny buffed the dirty coin on her sleeve and looked it over again, but was interrupted by a shrill call from above.
"Jahnalenna Doyle! Where have you gone?! Jahnalenna!" It was her mother. The young girl winced as each syllable of her mother's piercing voice stabbed into her mind. She glanced at the coin, clutching it tightly in her small, pale hand. Her mother would not like her bringing the doll or the hat she had found into the house, and much less this strange, eerie piece of gold that had come from a pirate ship. She shivered as she imagined a pirate captain lounging in his cabin, counting his stolen treasure. With that image in mind, she smiled slyly and tucked the gold into her pocket. Then, clutching the porcelain doll to her chest and the sopping hat to her head, she scurried up the dirt path with the gold clinking in her pocket.