Hello darlings! I'm Holly. And this sounds way too cheesy for me. Anyway,
this story is about Jack on a search for his sister. And yeah. An
adventure, woohooo! As for Jack's age, he is 32 in this fiction. Leila is
16.
"On deck you scaborous dogs! Weigh anchor! Hoist sails! Now, bring me that
horizon. Dananananananana..and really bad eggs...drink up me 'earties yo-ho!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Where to, Captain?" Ana Maria shouted. Bless Ana Maria, Jack thought. She can be in charge while the crew just hangs about like rag dolls. At least they know how to steer a bloody ship. Ana Maria and Gibbs could be in charge while he had some rum.
"Ana Maria! Gibbs! You're in charge while I...err, while I'm downstairs...savvy?"
After their initial agreement, Jack went down below.
Digging through his trunk for a bottle of rum- which he couldn't find- he found an old portrait. Done in oil, he barely remembered this picture. But still, just still, remembered it.
It was of four people. A young woman, a young man, a mischievous looking boy, and a little girl. The woman, the boy, and the girl had the same eyes, nearly pitch black with a sparkle in them.
Jack knew what had happened to the woman and man. Killed by bloody military men. Add that to the lists of reasons why I hate bloody Norrington, Jack thought. His mother, his father. He had barely known them. He was 18 when they died, but they were merely shadows in his life.
The girl...the little girl. She had been what, two? In the portrait. It was painted a month before Norrington found his parents. Her name was Leila, and she must be...16 now. Yes, 16. And she bloody was in an orphanage, probably made her life a living hell. Maybe he should rescue her. Add color into her life. Give her rum. She might like that. All Sparrows did!
What was the name of that orphanage?
Ch...Charity something.
"Bloody 'ell, charity rum!!?" Jack laughed at his random outburst that not even he had expected.
Charity Orphanage for Girls.
Most Bloody boring title in the world.
It got him somewhere!
He went up on deck.
"Crew, we're making a detour." "Not for more rum!" cried Cotton's parrot.
"Well, actually, no. We should stop for some on the way...good idea, Cotton, savvy?"
"Hem..ah...As you were saying, Cap'n?" Gibbs said.
"Ah. Yes. Anyway, we're going to find my sister."
Silence.
"You had a sister?" Marty said.
"O' course I bloody have a sister. I just... need to remember where she is. Excellent excuse for more rum! Gibbs, ye have any?"
"None. Ye're on ye're own, Cap'n."
"Ah, well. Port Royal. Somewhere close to there...hmm. Port Caroll? Eh...Yeah..yeah...bloody 'ell, I don't know! I'm goin' down below."
Jack staggered downstairs and rummaged through his trunk. Kohl...that letter from Scarlett. Ugh. That bloody excuse for a woman. He read the letter and blushed...best not be getting into that now. And papers...papers...Ah! Charity Orphanage for Girls, Port Caroll, established 1678. He scanned the letter... surprised that he could still read, it read:
We will be welcome to take in Leila Sparrow. She will be held here until 18 and then released.. All that Jack read. She was still there. Time to go.
"Where to, Captain?" Ana Maria shouted. Bless Ana Maria, Jack thought. She can be in charge while the crew just hangs about like rag dolls. At least they know how to steer a bloody ship. Ana Maria and Gibbs could be in charge while he had some rum.
"Ana Maria! Gibbs! You're in charge while I...err, while I'm downstairs...savvy?"
After their initial agreement, Jack went down below.
Digging through his trunk for a bottle of rum- which he couldn't find- he found an old portrait. Done in oil, he barely remembered this picture. But still, just still, remembered it.
It was of four people. A young woman, a young man, a mischievous looking boy, and a little girl. The woman, the boy, and the girl had the same eyes, nearly pitch black with a sparkle in them.
Jack knew what had happened to the woman and man. Killed by bloody military men. Add that to the lists of reasons why I hate bloody Norrington, Jack thought. His mother, his father. He had barely known them. He was 18 when they died, but they were merely shadows in his life.
The girl...the little girl. She had been what, two? In the portrait. It was painted a month before Norrington found his parents. Her name was Leila, and she must be...16 now. Yes, 16. And she bloody was in an orphanage, probably made her life a living hell. Maybe he should rescue her. Add color into her life. Give her rum. She might like that. All Sparrows did!
What was the name of that orphanage?
Ch...Charity something.
"Bloody 'ell, charity rum!!?" Jack laughed at his random outburst that not even he had expected.
Charity Orphanage for Girls.
Most Bloody boring title in the world.
It got him somewhere!
He went up on deck.
"Crew, we're making a detour." "Not for more rum!" cried Cotton's parrot.
"Well, actually, no. We should stop for some on the way...good idea, Cotton, savvy?"
"Hem..ah...As you were saying, Cap'n?" Gibbs said.
"Ah. Yes. Anyway, we're going to find my sister."
Silence.
"You had a sister?" Marty said.
"O' course I bloody have a sister. I just... need to remember where she is. Excellent excuse for more rum! Gibbs, ye have any?"
"None. Ye're on ye're own, Cap'n."
"Ah, well. Port Royal. Somewhere close to there...hmm. Port Caroll? Eh...Yeah..yeah...bloody 'ell, I don't know! I'm goin' down below."
Jack staggered downstairs and rummaged through his trunk. Kohl...that letter from Scarlett. Ugh. That bloody excuse for a woman. He read the letter and blushed...best not be getting into that now. And papers...papers...Ah! Charity Orphanage for Girls, Port Caroll, established 1678. He scanned the letter... surprised that he could still read, it read:
We will be welcome to take in Leila Sparrow. She will be held here until 18 and then released.. All that Jack read. She was still there. Time to go.
