My Goddess
Cheating Death
Chapter 3: Turning Points
Summery: Jack knew Barbossa was dead, but what happens when his mutinous first mate convinces the angel of death to allow him and his crew to seek their revenge against Jack? And what happens when the angel of death gets involved? Better than it sounds! Promise!
Disclaimer: Alright, after a lot of drugs and group therapy, I have finally come to terms with myself. No, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. HOWEVER!!!!! Characters and things you don't recognize, as well as the plot, are mine!
A/N: -hums quietly to herself-
~~~~~
Will Turner brushed away hair that stuck to his face from sweat with a hand. He set down his tools and took off his thick apron. A break would be great. He stepped through the door of the blacksmiths to stand in the cool air of a Caribbean night. The dark street was illuminated by a full moon. Will gave a small smile and shook his head as he stared up at it; it revealed no more. Will sat down on the steps; cold from the stone chilled him.
There he was. In the same place he was twelve years ago when he ended up in Port Royal: working for a drunk at blacksmith's shop and devoid of Elizabeth. True, she was his, but she wasn't with him right now. Governor Swan insisted to the point of force that Elizabeth stays at Swan Manor. Elizabeth had already disobeyed her father enough, she figured that doing one of his wishes wasn't going to kill anyone (and if she didn't stay there, her and Will were positive that he'd lock her up).
Will shivered. The coolness of the night had now turned to cold. Will had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He heard footsteps lightly echo and murmured, (what sounded like) arguing voices. Will looked blankly down the street as the voices got louder.
"—come on, Jacob! You can't just leave him for dead."
"Oh yes I can! It's not like he would do any better for me."
"Perhaps not, but look at it this way: are you going to sink to his level?"
There was a pause. "Yes, actually, I would—"
"Jesus, Jacob."
"What? Tell me, have you ever met my brother?"
"Can't say that I have, no."
"He's a prejudice, selfish bastard."
The footsteps stopped. "Alright, look. You were the one who worried out of your mind and wanted to find him and tell him. We went a quarter of the way around the world, and just as we get close, you change your damn mind." The footsteps started again. "I'll tell him myself if I have to and you can stay on the ship but I am not turning around and wasting a good four months."
"He's probably not even here! It was years ago since my last vision."
"Maybe, but there should be someone here he knows."
Just then, two people turned around the corner. They were a man and a woman. The man looked like a sailor of some sort. He had muscles from working in the sun. His hair was a dirty blonde. He wore dark brown trousers and a cream colored buttoned shirt. There was a sword too thin to be a cutlass at his side and he had two pistols strapped to his belt. The woman had rich brown hair and pale skin, and wore exactly the same thing, if not similar, except for the fact that she had no pistol and her cloths were lighter in both color and fabric.
The man had his arm crossed. "If someone does, I'm sure they won't wish to recall it."
"Shut up, Jacob." The woman rolled her eyes. She looked forward and spied Will. Not that he was hiding or anything, but he found it oddly surprising that she saw him. The frowning man with the brother noticed Will also. They both walked up to him. "Hello, we are looking for someone."
"I know many people residing in this port." Will said.
"Then perhaps you can help us!" The woman smiled, glancing at the man apparently called Jacob, who looked hotly around the street wanting no part of it. "Would you by any chance know a Mr. Jack Sparrow?"
~~~~~
A/N: Well, there's one question revealed, but hark! More questions you are now asking yourself! Oh, the inhumanity of it all!!! Don't you hate cliffhangers like that? Though I see it as a writers tool to make you come back for more! And there's no reason not to, mind you. Oh and looks like I lied again. Elizabeth ain't coming in until chapter 5... something to look forward to? Or do people just hate her in general for having Will?
~~~~~
Barbossa and the rest of his crew followed the greasy looking man named Opt up the dank and humid passage. The only light, a torch held by Opt, showed the passage to be jagged with sharp stones protruding out violently to the point you would have to watch and make sure you weren't stabbed through. The passage started to return to a flat level. They were close. The end of the passage came abruptly. As Opt made it to the opening we threw the torch into a barrel. Smoke flew up from the barrel's mouth as the torch sunk into the water.
Opt stopped and put a hand up the stop everyone behind him. Barbossa cursed. They were just inside the passage and the smoke from the torched skewed their vision.
"Nicest curses I've heard in a long time." Opt smiled.
"Unless ye'd like to 'ear more, I suggest ye get movin'." Barbossa snapped.
Opt smiled, bearing crooked yellow and brown teeth. "Curses will cause me no pain, Barbossa. Nor will they be the death of me."
Opt took a step to the side. Barbossa walked through the smoke. He was in a huge, natural port. The path went straight down the center to make a large peninsula. It was in a huge chamber with an opening that port. On the right of the path were broken and busted wrecked ships that were being repaired. On the other side were the Angel of Death's ships (though to be frank, Barbossa didn't know what use Death had with them). Some were smaller cruisers. Some were monstrous, black warships with pointed, dragon wing-like sails. A hundred cannons were strapped in them. Rows of oarports for sweeps were fore-and-aft. Along the sides in between the cannons and hanging from the masts were screaming bodies, bleeding red into the sea. Some were stabbed through with spikes protruding in between the cannon's and others were hanged by their necks or feet. That was the most horrible thing about being dead; you couldn't die.
Barbossa looked away to the right. Along one wall was a large channel that Barbossa knew went to a ship graveyard, literally. The Angel of Death apparently found that ships were grand enough to be considered dead when they beach or sink. Barbossa didn't realize ship's had souls. Barbossa reached the very end of the path where a large ship awaited him and his crew, of whom was speechless. The ship was one of Death's; however, it was thankfully absent of hanging bodies.
A man in black jeans, black jacket and a white button shirt stood next to the ship waited for them to arrive. "Welcome to your ship." He said as they approached. Upon closer inspection, Barbossa realized what the man was: a demon. He was deathly pale with black hair. He had a flintlock cutlass on his side along with a couple pistols. A dagger stuck out of his belt. He really looked nothing more than a "poor, little, rich boy" who want to be a pirate and bought the most expensive supplies on the market. Demons however were far from inexperienced and foolish.
"Aye." Barbossa said. "And what are ye doin' here?"
The man smiled, revealing sharp fangs. They were vampires. Although the more correct way of putting it was that vampires were demons. "I am Thejop; I'm here to watch over you. I'll be the one giving you the rules and making sure you follow them."
"Rules, are there?" Barbossa frowned.
"The Angel's not one to let anyone run around without being watched." Thejop motioned a hand towards the ship. "Shall we?"
Barbossa took one last glance around the port as he headed toward the walk board. Barbossa stopped and looked back. Right there, tied to the port, was the Black Pearl. Barbossa glanced at Thejop. "Could we, perchance, 'ave that ship instead." He pointed to the ship in question
Thejop looked over to it, as well as the crew looked at it. The crew stared and started muttering amongst themselves. "No." Thejop said simply.
"Would it not be better for our revenge if we used our own ship?" Barbossa asked.
"Perhaps," Thejop said. "But The Angel assigned you the Surge. You cannot just turn around and request something against The Angel's better judgment. You should be thankful for everything you have. Beggars aren't choosers, Barbossa."
Barbossa frowned at him. Though he truly wished for the Pearl, Barbossa wasn't about to ask Death for it: not good to let "The Angel" rethink and change minds. Barbossa turned around and got on the ship followed by his crew. He smiled. "Thought ye got rid of me, ye did. I'm comin' fer ye, Jack."
~~~~~
A friendly word from the author that brought you this story:
REVIEW!!!!! REVIEW LIKE CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That was a friendly word from the author that brought you this story.
Cheating Death
Chapter 3: Turning Points
Summery: Jack knew Barbossa was dead, but what happens when his mutinous first mate convinces the angel of death to allow him and his crew to seek their revenge against Jack? And what happens when the angel of death gets involved? Better than it sounds! Promise!
Disclaimer: Alright, after a lot of drugs and group therapy, I have finally come to terms with myself. No, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. HOWEVER!!!!! Characters and things you don't recognize, as well as the plot, are mine!
A/N: -hums quietly to herself-
~~~~~
Will Turner brushed away hair that stuck to his face from sweat with a hand. He set down his tools and took off his thick apron. A break would be great. He stepped through the door of the blacksmiths to stand in the cool air of a Caribbean night. The dark street was illuminated by a full moon. Will gave a small smile and shook his head as he stared up at it; it revealed no more. Will sat down on the steps; cold from the stone chilled him.
There he was. In the same place he was twelve years ago when he ended up in Port Royal: working for a drunk at blacksmith's shop and devoid of Elizabeth. True, she was his, but she wasn't with him right now. Governor Swan insisted to the point of force that Elizabeth stays at Swan Manor. Elizabeth had already disobeyed her father enough, she figured that doing one of his wishes wasn't going to kill anyone (and if she didn't stay there, her and Will were positive that he'd lock her up).
Will shivered. The coolness of the night had now turned to cold. Will had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He heard footsteps lightly echo and murmured, (what sounded like) arguing voices. Will looked blankly down the street as the voices got louder.
"—come on, Jacob! You can't just leave him for dead."
"Oh yes I can! It's not like he would do any better for me."
"Perhaps not, but look at it this way: are you going to sink to his level?"
There was a pause. "Yes, actually, I would—"
"Jesus, Jacob."
"What? Tell me, have you ever met my brother?"
"Can't say that I have, no."
"He's a prejudice, selfish bastard."
The footsteps stopped. "Alright, look. You were the one who worried out of your mind and wanted to find him and tell him. We went a quarter of the way around the world, and just as we get close, you change your damn mind." The footsteps started again. "I'll tell him myself if I have to and you can stay on the ship but I am not turning around and wasting a good four months."
"He's probably not even here! It was years ago since my last vision."
"Maybe, but there should be someone here he knows."
Just then, two people turned around the corner. They were a man and a woman. The man looked like a sailor of some sort. He had muscles from working in the sun. His hair was a dirty blonde. He wore dark brown trousers and a cream colored buttoned shirt. There was a sword too thin to be a cutlass at his side and he had two pistols strapped to his belt. The woman had rich brown hair and pale skin, and wore exactly the same thing, if not similar, except for the fact that she had no pistol and her cloths were lighter in both color and fabric.
The man had his arm crossed. "If someone does, I'm sure they won't wish to recall it."
"Shut up, Jacob." The woman rolled her eyes. She looked forward and spied Will. Not that he was hiding or anything, but he found it oddly surprising that she saw him. The frowning man with the brother noticed Will also. They both walked up to him. "Hello, we are looking for someone."
"I know many people residing in this port." Will said.
"Then perhaps you can help us!" The woman smiled, glancing at the man apparently called Jacob, who looked hotly around the street wanting no part of it. "Would you by any chance know a Mr. Jack Sparrow?"
~~~~~
A/N: Well, there's one question revealed, but hark! More questions you are now asking yourself! Oh, the inhumanity of it all!!! Don't you hate cliffhangers like that? Though I see it as a writers tool to make you come back for more! And there's no reason not to, mind you. Oh and looks like I lied again. Elizabeth ain't coming in until chapter 5... something to look forward to? Or do people just hate her in general for having Will?
~~~~~
Barbossa and the rest of his crew followed the greasy looking man named Opt up the dank and humid passage. The only light, a torch held by Opt, showed the passage to be jagged with sharp stones protruding out violently to the point you would have to watch and make sure you weren't stabbed through. The passage started to return to a flat level. They were close. The end of the passage came abruptly. As Opt made it to the opening we threw the torch into a barrel. Smoke flew up from the barrel's mouth as the torch sunk into the water.
Opt stopped and put a hand up the stop everyone behind him. Barbossa cursed. They were just inside the passage and the smoke from the torched skewed their vision.
"Nicest curses I've heard in a long time." Opt smiled.
"Unless ye'd like to 'ear more, I suggest ye get movin'." Barbossa snapped.
Opt smiled, bearing crooked yellow and brown teeth. "Curses will cause me no pain, Barbossa. Nor will they be the death of me."
Opt took a step to the side. Barbossa walked through the smoke. He was in a huge, natural port. The path went straight down the center to make a large peninsula. It was in a huge chamber with an opening that port. On the right of the path were broken and busted wrecked ships that were being repaired. On the other side were the Angel of Death's ships (though to be frank, Barbossa didn't know what use Death had with them). Some were smaller cruisers. Some were monstrous, black warships with pointed, dragon wing-like sails. A hundred cannons were strapped in them. Rows of oarports for sweeps were fore-and-aft. Along the sides in between the cannons and hanging from the masts were screaming bodies, bleeding red into the sea. Some were stabbed through with spikes protruding in between the cannon's and others were hanged by their necks or feet. That was the most horrible thing about being dead; you couldn't die.
Barbossa looked away to the right. Along one wall was a large channel that Barbossa knew went to a ship graveyard, literally. The Angel of Death apparently found that ships were grand enough to be considered dead when they beach or sink. Barbossa didn't realize ship's had souls. Barbossa reached the very end of the path where a large ship awaited him and his crew, of whom was speechless. The ship was one of Death's; however, it was thankfully absent of hanging bodies.
A man in black jeans, black jacket and a white button shirt stood next to the ship waited for them to arrive. "Welcome to your ship." He said as they approached. Upon closer inspection, Barbossa realized what the man was: a demon. He was deathly pale with black hair. He had a flintlock cutlass on his side along with a couple pistols. A dagger stuck out of his belt. He really looked nothing more than a "poor, little, rich boy" who want to be a pirate and bought the most expensive supplies on the market. Demons however were far from inexperienced and foolish.
"Aye." Barbossa said. "And what are ye doin' here?"
The man smiled, revealing sharp fangs. They were vampires. Although the more correct way of putting it was that vampires were demons. "I am Thejop; I'm here to watch over you. I'll be the one giving you the rules and making sure you follow them."
"Rules, are there?" Barbossa frowned.
"The Angel's not one to let anyone run around without being watched." Thejop motioned a hand towards the ship. "Shall we?"
Barbossa took one last glance around the port as he headed toward the walk board. Barbossa stopped and looked back. Right there, tied to the port, was the Black Pearl. Barbossa glanced at Thejop. "Could we, perchance, 'ave that ship instead." He pointed to the ship in question
Thejop looked over to it, as well as the crew looked at it. The crew stared and started muttering amongst themselves. "No." Thejop said simply.
"Would it not be better for our revenge if we used our own ship?" Barbossa asked.
"Perhaps," Thejop said. "But The Angel assigned you the Surge. You cannot just turn around and request something against The Angel's better judgment. You should be thankful for everything you have. Beggars aren't choosers, Barbossa."
Barbossa frowned at him. Though he truly wished for the Pearl, Barbossa wasn't about to ask Death for it: not good to let "The Angel" rethink and change minds. Barbossa turned around and got on the ship followed by his crew. He smiled. "Thought ye got rid of me, ye did. I'm comin' fer ye, Jack."
~~~~~
A friendly word from the author that brought you this story:
REVIEW!!!!! REVIEW LIKE CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That was a friendly word from the author that brought you this story.