The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
Timestream Dreams
Chapter One
AN: Alright, first of all, I'd like to apologize if I offended anyone with the disclaimer. My friend was being very annoying with her constant disapproval of the movie, on all the grounds that are mentioned constantly by comic purists, and I guess I was a little frustrated. So if I offended anyone, I apologize.
Dru Mason: I'm glad you liked it. For some reason, Emmett is a bit more difficult for me to write, so I'm glad he turned out okay.
Raisha Bregail: ^_^ I'm glad I was able dispel your doubts, I'll do my best to maintain that quality throughout.
Raven Silvers: Poetic indeed, and many thanks. I hope I can meet those high expectations.
Clez: How did I get it up here without you knowing? Do you remember that scene in the first Mission: Impossible movie, with Ethan hanging from the ceiling avoiding all the lasers? …Yeah, well that's not how I did it, lol. Many thanks, and was this fast enough? Lol.
Oh, and I'd just like to say right here: FF.Net is being quite unfair in a certain matter involving Clez. Seems their guidelines aren't clear enough, and when she accidentally posted something they don't think she should have, they suspended her uploading privileges for a week. Yet they've overlooked many crossovers, songfics, and so forth. All who think this action is unfair and wish to support our beloved authoress and friend, please either state your opinion in a review, e-mail me, or e-mail FF.Net directly.
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"So…you're a pirate?" Emmett and Jack were below decks, having a bite to eat, while Campion worked out a few last minute things above deck. Judging from the smoke wafting around in the ship's wake, he was just trying to be polite while pursuing his habit. Emmett chalked that up to British people being far more polite than any Americans he knew, considering how they would often blow smoke in your face if you asked them to put it out.
"Right," Jack replied, and a grin played across his face for a moment. "You're a blacksmith?"
"That I am," Emmett replied. Jack laughed and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head and mumbling about the irony of the situation. "Something wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing," Jack replied, getting up and apparently reliving a previous fight…only with his knife, instead of his sword. "Just seems like I run into a lot of blacksmiths, that's all." He spun on his heel and leaned forward, bringing his own face rather close to Emmett's. "Tell me you don't have any pirate blood in you."
"Not that I know of," Emmett replied uneasily, scooting his chair back a little. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Jack replied, laughing and swinging himself around one of the support beams in the cabin. "So, you made a time machine, is that right?"
"Well, I…yes. But I thought I'd hidden it well enough."
"Well apparently that wasn't true," Jack replied, smirking. "Though what I'm sure you're curious about is just how whoever it was that did the stealin' knew where you're fancy little machine was, right?"
"That would be…enlightening," Emmett replied, unsure of where this conversation was going. Jack leaned in closer and continued in a conspiratorial whisper.
"What the tubby gent up there didn't tell you was that there was a guy by the name of M working for the government until not too recently. Turns out, he'd heard rumors of stuff goin' on in Hill Valley, so he sent a guy by the name of Sanderson Reed to investigate."
"Reed," Emmett replied, sounding shocked. "I met him when he came to town!"
"Exactly," Jack continued. "Well, when Reed found out the rumors were pretty well founded, he went runnin' back and told M about it. M told an…associate of his and off they were to Hill Valley. Meanwhile, M overheard some idle chat about a team possibly being formed – before your letter was ever mailed, mind you – and got an idea. He hightailed it out, and it was only afterwards that good ol' Campion up there found out that M stood for Moriarty."
"Moriarty," Emmett exclaimed, shocked. He hopped up from his seat, forcing Jack to duck back to keep from the two of them clonking heads, and then the seemingly normal pirate placed a finger to his lips.
"Shhhh," he stated, "Campion isn't too fond of sharing that kinda information. So…let's just keep that between the two of us for now on…savvy?"
"Savvy?"
"…Ahhh, blast, nobody understands me these days," Jack half grumbled, half sighed. "Look, just don't go around spoutin' off what I just told you."
"…Fine," Emmett replied. "And in return, the same goes for talking about my time machine in public."
"We have an accord," Jack stated, grinning and sticking out his hand. Emmett glanced at it a moment, and then shook it. "Now, let's go see who we're pickin' up next."
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"Maybe you should go take the wheel, Mr. Sparrow," Emmett whispered.
"Captain Sparrow…and you're probably right," Jack, returned, glancing at Bond before adding, "You'll have to tell me what the two of you upstanding gentlemen talk about." Jack sauntered off towards the wheel before Emmett could say anything. If he was offended, he didn't show it. With a sigh of confusion, Emmett walked over to the railing, standing just to the left of Bond. The two men stood in silence for a few minutes, Emmett staring out at the ocean while Bond puffed on his cigarette.
"Is there something you wanted, Doctor Brown," Bond finally asked. Emmett started to say something, but Bond held up his cigarette. "Would you mind…?"
"Not at all," Emmett replied quickly. Bond nodded in thanks, took another puff, and then gestured for Emmett to continue. "Well, the reason I wanted our friend Jack to go to the wheel is because I wanted to ask about him."
"Well," Bond said, laughing softly, "All I can tell you is that he's one hell of a pirate. Up until recently, we didn't believe a word of his story, but…recent discoveries have forced us to look at things in a different light." Bond held up a hand in an almost psychic anticipation of what the scientist would say. "He claims that he was always the best pirate known to man, but that his first real exposure to the supernatural came in the form of his traitorous first mate, Barbossa. Jack went through a rather harsh mutiny, and was left on an island to rot. He got off by making a deal with the rumrunners, and eventually he found his way to Port Royal. From there he was captured, consequently released by a blacksmith by the name of William Turner, and went on a rather harrowing adventure to get back his ship. After more than one apparent doublecross, Jack was able to fight Barbossa, and in the end it was Jack that won. What is so unusual about this, you ask? It took place more than a century ago. Jack claims that the medallion he now wears is in fact cursed Aztec gold. Any man that holds one piece is given immortal life…at the cost of quite a bit. Jack, apparently, felt the sacrifice was worth the gain, and he claims to have snagged one of the coins while William was too busy getting cozy with a young woman named Elizabeth Swann. He hasn't aged a day after that." Emmett was a bit overwhelmed by all that, so he grabbed onto what he could.
"A blacksmith, you said," Emmett asked.
"Yes," Bond replied, sounding as if he'd expected every other question except the one that had been asked. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Emmett responded. "So does Jack have any proof of his story?"
"…Wait until nightfall, and he'll be more than happy to show you. He claims that the moonlight shows him for what he is." Bond replied. "He seems to…rather enjoy it, I think."
"I see. Well, I guess I'll just have to take an evening stroll with him, then." Emmett returned to gazing out at the ocean, while Bond was content to puff on his cigarette in silence. Finally, Emmett got around to the second topic of discussion. "Where are we going, and who are we recruiting next?"
"Japan, and a monster," Bond explained, and laughed at Emmett's shocked look. "Doctor Brown, you are going to encounter things during the course of this mission that are going to shock and amaze you. I'd suggest acclimating yourself to it now."
"Mr. Bond, I'm not fond of dramatics," Emmett sighed. "So please, just explain yourself straight out."
"Have you ever heard of a man named Victor von Frankenstein?"
"We're recruiting him," Emmett asked, astounded.
"Not quite," Bond replied, falling silent immediately after that. Emmett was a smart man, and Campion had confidence in his ability to figure it out.
"…We're recruiting his creation, aren't we?"
"Quite," Bond stated, nodding. "The story goes that he died in a pyre of his own creation somewhere in the arctic. The stories are false. Apparently, he realized about halfway to the pyre that Victor would not have wanted it to end like that. Instead, he decided that Victor would want his creation to redeem himself. So he took Victor's journal and headed off, bartering passage on an ice fishing boat. He came first to London, to tell Victor's story and try to beg for amnesty. He was given what he requested, on the condition that he wrangle his rather grievous temper. He had heard of the strict disciplines enforced in Japan, and that is where he headed. He resides there now, and is eager to be of service to his government."
"…Is he really as strong as the story suggests," Emmett asked.
"Stronger," Bond returned, smiling around his cigarette as he took a long puff.
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"I've been to Japan, but never like this," Emmett muttered, as the three of them wandered down a rode towards the dojo that was reputed to house the next intended member of the League.
"I've been to Singapore," Jack offered, smirking.
"Both of you should perhaps watch your mouths and your manners while we are here," Bond stated, and his tone seemed able to silence even Jack.
"Yeah, because you know what they do when you don't mind your P's and Q's here," Jack replied, grinning mischievously. Bond sighed, and decided that there just wasn't a way to keep him quiet. "Oh, come on Bond, I'm just having a little fun."
"Yes," Emmett groaned, "it'll be fun when you wind up in a cell somewhere."
"I've gotten out of them before," Jack returned, and then winked. "With the help of a blacksmith, no less."
"Don't be expecting that from me," Emmett responded wearily.
"I believe there is something I should clarify with the two of you," Bond cut in, trying to keep the arguing to a minimum. "Frankenstein's creation – we should call him Frankenstein, by the way, as that's the name he's taken – came here to learn discipline and help try to tame his anger."
"Yes, we know that," Jack replied, seemingly exasperated.
"If you'd let me finish, Captain, you'd discover that he hasn't been completely successful."
"Oh." That, apparently, was able to silence Jack…for a moment. "So…he's not going to, ah…attack us when he sees us, is he?"
"No," Bond stated, an amused grin spreading across his face. "He is expecting us. I just wanted to hear the sound of your mouth shutting for once." Emmett and Bond both laughed and continued on, while Jack stopped momentarily, looking offended.
"Hey," he exclaimed, "I did not deserve that!"
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Bond and Emmett cleared the hill in front of the dojo together, with Jack straggling behind them, apparently no longer wishing to converse with them due to Bond's earlier rebuke. The building before them was a medium sized building, its construction a blend of traditional Japanese with just a touch of German make. A woman exited the building, turned, and bowed to a giant silhouette before turning and leaving. The silhouette turned to face the trio for a moment before beckoning them inside and heading back inside himself. "Now," Jack began, "do you really think we should," was all he got out before Bond and Emmett started towards the dojo. "Now that is just malicious." He stood there a moment more, looking put out, and then strode toward the dojo.
Once inside, they all were able to get a good look at Frankenstein. He was a monster of a man, towering over all three of the men in the room at almost eight feet tall. He had tanned skin that was riddled with stitches, showing where Victor von Frankenstein had put him together. He had long black hair that looked well taken care of, especially in comparison with the rest of his body. A hard face that showed signs of many past stresses, though his eyes showed a recent calm that had managed to wipe away a few of the lines on his face. He wore a ratty yellowish-tan shirt with a few holes in it here and there, baggy brown trousers tucked into heavy boots lined with goat fur, and a belt made of brown fabric to keep the pants up…though it was extremely doubtful that he would need such aid to keep his pants up. "Hello, Mr. Bond," he stated, with a very slight hint of a German accent touching his English. "Doctor Brown, Captain Sparrow. I've got my things all together, and we can return to your ship whenever you are ready."
"Well, you're eager, aren't you," Jack asked, chuckling.
"Yes," Frankenstein replied, crossing his arms. "The situation is far more dire than you appear to be treating it, Captain Sparrow."
"Levity makes these kinds of things seem a lot lighter than they really are," Jack returned.
"You realize that levity is, at times, uncalled for." It was a statement, not a question. Jack grinned and strode flamboyantly over to Frankenstein, as if punctuating his point by over exaggerating his usual gait.
"Levity is always welcome on the Pearl," he stated, and then added, "as are those that appreciate it…if you take my meaning." Several tense moments passed before any resolution came.
"Your point has been taken," Frankenstein stated finally. "However…I would have to ask you to take the feelings of others into consideration." Jack spun and headed towards the door, laughing.
"Of course. I'll take it into consideration." Bond simply shook his head and followed, and Frankenstein nodded to Emmett before leaving, completely without any luggage or possessions. Emmett stood in the dojo for a few moments more before sighing.
"This is going to be a looooong voyage."
