A/N: Yo, folks, 'bout time for an update, dontcha' think? I think so. So
let's get to it then, huh? Enjoy!
"Hey," I say as I ineffectually nudge with a toe at my knight in rum- soaked armor, "Wake up, mate." A muffled moan is emitted from the prone pile of flesh on the ground, but little else. Peering down at the boy, I can see that not only has he gotten himself dead drunk, he also certainly isn't a Tortuga native. His overall cleanliness alone testifies to the fact. Hands on my hips, I tilt my head back and take in the night sky with a sigh. What am I to do with him, eh? I ask the Almighty. I catch the slightest twinkle of a star, and feel insulted. So He wants to play games with me, eh? I nudge a little less gently at my hero, "Get up, ye' soggy sack of guts!"
"Oi, boss," a not so new voice calls from the end of the alley, "Needin' any help down there?"
I try to look as composed as possible standing near the unconscious boy as Pete, Tom, and Tuck walk towards me. "I might. He's a mite heavy for a-"
"Girl," Tom finishes, his face blank. I nod, keeping my own face nearly as expressive as the dirt we stand on. The exchange is as loaded as if we'd shouted at each other in any case.
That's about how the rest of the evening goes as proper arrangements are made for us four and our guest at an inn called McCain's House. My boys make no attempt to disclose the reason for their change of heart, and I'll be hanged before I look the gift horse in the mouth, so I don't ask. But there is an inescapable tension as the evening draws to a close, and me and the boys retire. One room is all we can afford with our combined pay, and I can't ignore the nervous glances shooting like letters of the mind between them. Moment of truth comes, the arrangements are thusly: wonder lad in the single bed, and the rest of us scattered across the floor, my person given a rather wide berth. I try not to let it bother me as I attempt to trap that elusive creature, sleep, but I know things will never be the same for Gawain and his gang, and the thought fills me with pain.
Morning in Tortuga is unsurprisingly like a hangover. It's gray and muggy, the light pierces between disorienting puffs of fog. Even if you didn't drink the previous night, you feel just as ill and irritable as if you had, and then some. The streets are blessedly quiet though, all the bar fights concluded and drunks happily out cold wherever they fell and couldn't get back up. Whores have closed shop as the few decent businesses open. To even think of Tortuga containing an apothecary grants me a wry smile as I walk past. I woke early with no set goals beyond the same two apparently impossible ones. I'm in a funny mood as I cruise the alleys of Tortuga. There are no roads in Tortuga, only alleys, I've noticed this.
I glance around me momentarily, just to be sure that parrot has backed off. I see no flash of unnaturally bright color, as well as no silent old man or dark-skinned female with the quick-draw blade. I suppose I should count these as pluses, although I can see nothing positive about the loss of my first hot lead on Jack's whereabouts. Or lack there of, I add, but then rethink. My mind is a turmoil with these latest happenings. Thanks to my nocturnal assailants, I can reasonably conjecture that Captain Sparrow is alive. But then what? What can I do about it? I must admit that a tiny part of me hoped he was dead, if for no other reason than I wouldn't have to deal with this part of the plan, I could go back home to Will and Elizabeth and try to be the daughter they want. It was a very small part indeed.
"Ho there, lad," a man greets me from a shop as I approach. He is a tall man, or at least would be if he wasn't quite so hunched over. Graying dark hair is slicked away from a pale face with a large nose and keen eyes. He appears to be a merchant. "Your the one looking for Jack Sparrow, aren't you?"
It is too early in the morning for brashness, surprisingly enough I have learned a thing or two from last night's encounter with connections to Jack, so I reply with caution, "I might be. Who're you, then?"
The merchant smiles politely and says, "Waylan Faulkner, my boy. Run a small shipping company here in Tortuga. I believe I may be able to help you in your quest." He gestures inside his shop, "If you'll step inside, we can discuss plans together."
I can't help a pleased smile as I walk in with Faulkner. As the sky is replaced with ceiling I shoot a grin to Heaven. 'Bout time He started pulling his weight.
I come down the hall to the room with a definite swagger in my step. My mood only elevates as I hear my boys laughter inside.
"Gawain!" cries Peter and I swell with joy to see that boyish beam of his once again directed at me.
"Aye, lads, I've returned. And, what ho! Our sleeping beauty has awakened as well, I see." The young man who deprived us four of a soft bed for the night is indeed among the living once again, more or less. He smiles along with the boys, but winces with every loud laugh they issue. "And shall ye' tell us the name o' my rescuer, then?"
He blinks, and I can see he has no idea the label "rescuer" ever applied to him, but he answers the question regardless with only a little deliberation, "Mayflower Stanton."
"Stanton," I say quickly over my gang's sniggers, "Ah, a fine name, that. Stanton. Well, boys, has Stanton had any breakfast this fine morn?" Stanton visibly pales at the mention of food, and I feel a sin coming on.
"Uh no, boss," Pete replies, his eyes picking up a wicked gleam of their own, "I don't believe our new mate Stanton HAS had a bite ta' eat."
"Well, we shall have ta' remedy that immediately," I say. The young man's panicked gaze flits from Pete, but still he says nothing.
"Oh yes," Tuck chimes in, "They have a lovely breakfast here, believe it o' not. Mountains o' eggs an' bacon-"
"An' biscuits, with butter," Tom continues.
"Aye," Tuck picks up. Stanton seems on the verge of tears as he watches the twins in horror, "with gravy ye' can dump all over the whole mess!" Finally Stanton pitches over and the twins smartly hold a brass chamber pot between them to catch the contents of the young man.
We're still laughing by the time Stanton has leaned back in the bed, now more resembling a skeleton than a man. It's not 'til I'm wiping the tears from my eyes that I remember my good news. "Boys, while you've been carousin' with our new mate Stanton, I been out fixin' it so's we got somewhere ta' go besides another ship."
Tom grins at me, "A new plan already, Gawain? By my life, ye' never stop do ye'?"
"Not if I can help it, boy-o."
"So what is it, Gawain? Huh?" Peter asks excitedly. Lord, how I missed this!
"Well, I talked ta' this bloke, Faulkner, see? An' we got an accord that he'll take us ta' find the greatest pirate that ever lived!" I let that sink into my boys' impressionable minds before continuing, "An' after that, well, let's just say I got somethin' in store fer us. Somethin' greater than all me plans combined. Whaddya' say, lads, ya' in?"
"Aye, boss!" cries Peter immediately as his imagination runs wild with what I could mean by something greater than anything else.
"We're with ya', Gawain," Tuck says, and Tom nods.
I nod back at them, basking in the glow of their collected loyalty momentarily. Then I turn to Stanton. "How 'bout you then, mate? Ye' got any pressin' business back home? Or do ya' feel like doin' somethin' with yer life?"
I can see thoughts duke it out behind the young man's solemn face before he speaks. "Yes, I'll go with you."
I grin at my newest boy, "Good. Well, then, if there's no objections come along, lads! Our ship awaits!"
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. The next will be... hm- let's say it'll be rather compelling. Stay tuned! To my reviewers:
Fire Pixie: Hey, long time no see! Thought you'd grown out of me, huh? Well they all come crawling back eventually, muhahaha! Ahem. Anyways, overjoyed you like it, and trust me, I won't be abandoning this one anytime soon. Although I don't think I wrote anything for "Order of the Phoenix", you may be thinking of some other writer. Speaking of which, were you talking about chapter 2 or 3 that you liked being dialogue? You see, these details are important for my vast ego to be maintained. Keep reading, glad to have you back on my review list!
l88er-az: That's some kinda pen name ya' got there, hon. Anyways, glad you like so far, though, as I tell everyone else, I'll have to keep info on Sparrow and any other cryptic characters to myself for now. Remember, a true magician never reveals her secrets!
PED-sarah: Sweetheart, if I ever tried to plan out my stories, I don't think any human being on the planet could understand it, including myself. Though I do have vague notions about how I want the story to go, some things much more tangible than others. When I write, it's akin to that part in X-Men the movie when Magneto is walking in the air and the bits of metal fly up to make a walkway for him. The solid parts are there, but only when I need them. I believe I've already answered your question on Pete and the twins ^^.
Nightfox the Gypsy: Hope this fix was to your liking. Keep reading, if all goes according to plan the next chapter should be the perfect hit for you.
"Hey," I say as I ineffectually nudge with a toe at my knight in rum- soaked armor, "Wake up, mate." A muffled moan is emitted from the prone pile of flesh on the ground, but little else. Peering down at the boy, I can see that not only has he gotten himself dead drunk, he also certainly isn't a Tortuga native. His overall cleanliness alone testifies to the fact. Hands on my hips, I tilt my head back and take in the night sky with a sigh. What am I to do with him, eh? I ask the Almighty. I catch the slightest twinkle of a star, and feel insulted. So He wants to play games with me, eh? I nudge a little less gently at my hero, "Get up, ye' soggy sack of guts!"
"Oi, boss," a not so new voice calls from the end of the alley, "Needin' any help down there?"
I try to look as composed as possible standing near the unconscious boy as Pete, Tom, and Tuck walk towards me. "I might. He's a mite heavy for a-"
"Girl," Tom finishes, his face blank. I nod, keeping my own face nearly as expressive as the dirt we stand on. The exchange is as loaded as if we'd shouted at each other in any case.
That's about how the rest of the evening goes as proper arrangements are made for us four and our guest at an inn called McCain's House. My boys make no attempt to disclose the reason for their change of heart, and I'll be hanged before I look the gift horse in the mouth, so I don't ask. But there is an inescapable tension as the evening draws to a close, and me and the boys retire. One room is all we can afford with our combined pay, and I can't ignore the nervous glances shooting like letters of the mind between them. Moment of truth comes, the arrangements are thusly: wonder lad in the single bed, and the rest of us scattered across the floor, my person given a rather wide berth. I try not to let it bother me as I attempt to trap that elusive creature, sleep, but I know things will never be the same for Gawain and his gang, and the thought fills me with pain.
Morning in Tortuga is unsurprisingly like a hangover. It's gray and muggy, the light pierces between disorienting puffs of fog. Even if you didn't drink the previous night, you feel just as ill and irritable as if you had, and then some. The streets are blessedly quiet though, all the bar fights concluded and drunks happily out cold wherever they fell and couldn't get back up. Whores have closed shop as the few decent businesses open. To even think of Tortuga containing an apothecary grants me a wry smile as I walk past. I woke early with no set goals beyond the same two apparently impossible ones. I'm in a funny mood as I cruise the alleys of Tortuga. There are no roads in Tortuga, only alleys, I've noticed this.
I glance around me momentarily, just to be sure that parrot has backed off. I see no flash of unnaturally bright color, as well as no silent old man or dark-skinned female with the quick-draw blade. I suppose I should count these as pluses, although I can see nothing positive about the loss of my first hot lead on Jack's whereabouts. Or lack there of, I add, but then rethink. My mind is a turmoil with these latest happenings. Thanks to my nocturnal assailants, I can reasonably conjecture that Captain Sparrow is alive. But then what? What can I do about it? I must admit that a tiny part of me hoped he was dead, if for no other reason than I wouldn't have to deal with this part of the plan, I could go back home to Will and Elizabeth and try to be the daughter they want. It was a very small part indeed.
"Ho there, lad," a man greets me from a shop as I approach. He is a tall man, or at least would be if he wasn't quite so hunched over. Graying dark hair is slicked away from a pale face with a large nose and keen eyes. He appears to be a merchant. "Your the one looking for Jack Sparrow, aren't you?"
It is too early in the morning for brashness, surprisingly enough I have learned a thing or two from last night's encounter with connections to Jack, so I reply with caution, "I might be. Who're you, then?"
The merchant smiles politely and says, "Waylan Faulkner, my boy. Run a small shipping company here in Tortuga. I believe I may be able to help you in your quest." He gestures inside his shop, "If you'll step inside, we can discuss plans together."
I can't help a pleased smile as I walk in with Faulkner. As the sky is replaced with ceiling I shoot a grin to Heaven. 'Bout time He started pulling his weight.
I come down the hall to the room with a definite swagger in my step. My mood only elevates as I hear my boys laughter inside.
"Gawain!" cries Peter and I swell with joy to see that boyish beam of his once again directed at me.
"Aye, lads, I've returned. And, what ho! Our sleeping beauty has awakened as well, I see." The young man who deprived us four of a soft bed for the night is indeed among the living once again, more or less. He smiles along with the boys, but winces with every loud laugh they issue. "And shall ye' tell us the name o' my rescuer, then?"
He blinks, and I can see he has no idea the label "rescuer" ever applied to him, but he answers the question regardless with only a little deliberation, "Mayflower Stanton."
"Stanton," I say quickly over my gang's sniggers, "Ah, a fine name, that. Stanton. Well, boys, has Stanton had any breakfast this fine morn?" Stanton visibly pales at the mention of food, and I feel a sin coming on.
"Uh no, boss," Pete replies, his eyes picking up a wicked gleam of their own, "I don't believe our new mate Stanton HAS had a bite ta' eat."
"Well, we shall have ta' remedy that immediately," I say. The young man's panicked gaze flits from Pete, but still he says nothing.
"Oh yes," Tuck chimes in, "They have a lovely breakfast here, believe it o' not. Mountains o' eggs an' bacon-"
"An' biscuits, with butter," Tom continues.
"Aye," Tuck picks up. Stanton seems on the verge of tears as he watches the twins in horror, "with gravy ye' can dump all over the whole mess!" Finally Stanton pitches over and the twins smartly hold a brass chamber pot between them to catch the contents of the young man.
We're still laughing by the time Stanton has leaned back in the bed, now more resembling a skeleton than a man. It's not 'til I'm wiping the tears from my eyes that I remember my good news. "Boys, while you've been carousin' with our new mate Stanton, I been out fixin' it so's we got somewhere ta' go besides another ship."
Tom grins at me, "A new plan already, Gawain? By my life, ye' never stop do ye'?"
"Not if I can help it, boy-o."
"So what is it, Gawain? Huh?" Peter asks excitedly. Lord, how I missed this!
"Well, I talked ta' this bloke, Faulkner, see? An' we got an accord that he'll take us ta' find the greatest pirate that ever lived!" I let that sink into my boys' impressionable minds before continuing, "An' after that, well, let's just say I got somethin' in store fer us. Somethin' greater than all me plans combined. Whaddya' say, lads, ya' in?"
"Aye, boss!" cries Peter immediately as his imagination runs wild with what I could mean by something greater than anything else.
"We're with ya', Gawain," Tuck says, and Tom nods.
I nod back at them, basking in the glow of their collected loyalty momentarily. Then I turn to Stanton. "How 'bout you then, mate? Ye' got any pressin' business back home? Or do ya' feel like doin' somethin' with yer life?"
I can see thoughts duke it out behind the young man's solemn face before he speaks. "Yes, I'll go with you."
I grin at my newest boy, "Good. Well, then, if there's no objections come along, lads! Our ship awaits!"
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. The next will be... hm- let's say it'll be rather compelling. Stay tuned! To my reviewers:
Fire Pixie: Hey, long time no see! Thought you'd grown out of me, huh? Well they all come crawling back eventually, muhahaha! Ahem. Anyways, overjoyed you like it, and trust me, I won't be abandoning this one anytime soon. Although I don't think I wrote anything for "Order of the Phoenix", you may be thinking of some other writer. Speaking of which, were you talking about chapter 2 or 3 that you liked being dialogue? You see, these details are important for my vast ego to be maintained. Keep reading, glad to have you back on my review list!
l88er-az: That's some kinda pen name ya' got there, hon. Anyways, glad you like so far, though, as I tell everyone else, I'll have to keep info on Sparrow and any other cryptic characters to myself for now. Remember, a true magician never reveals her secrets!
PED-sarah: Sweetheart, if I ever tried to plan out my stories, I don't think any human being on the planet could understand it, including myself. Though I do have vague notions about how I want the story to go, some things much more tangible than others. When I write, it's akin to that part in X-Men the movie when Magneto is walking in the air and the bits of metal fly up to make a walkway for him. The solid parts are there, but only when I need them. I believe I've already answered your question on Pete and the twins ^^.
Nightfox the Gypsy: Hope this fix was to your liking. Keep reading, if all goes according to plan the next chapter should be the perfect hit for you.