A group of drabbles written for TheBlackPearlSailsFiction Group over on Yahoo. Not in any particular order.
Disclaimer: Recognizable characters belong to the Mouse. No Profit intended, merely for pleasure. Not beta'd
Sea Creatures drabble
Chance Encounter
The luminous eye was large, a gentle dark eye that considered his plight thoughtfully. It seemed to wonder what this odd creature was that had appeared in its territory but it offered only an enigmatic smile when the little creature flinched away in fright, tipping his precarious perch close to capsizing. He realized the eye belonged to a benign being, relaxing enough to creep closer to peer in turn with his own curious eyes. Reaching out slowly, he stroked the soft wet skin above the eye. Entranced, he watched the being slip majestically beneath the waves, a minute hope reborn.
Drabble using the same letter at the beginning of each sentence; went a little overboard.
Drabble in the Key of C
Canvas snapping in a crisp Caribbean wind, Captain Jack Sparrow consulted his battered compass. Content cinnamon eyes, cheeky grin and cocky stance captivated the crew as they beat down the passage to Tortuga.
Curses conquered, undead corsairs beaten, a commodore ceding victory, it had been quite the adventure. Cheating cold death one more time, Jack considered his life now. Commandeering Anamaria's little skiff had been chancy but it had delivered him to where the capricious fates were waiting.
Caverns crowded with treasure might be pirate dreams but as he had told the whelp, not all treasure was silver and gold.
Sailor's Delight
Alone at the helm, Jack gripped the Pearl's wheel, the silken skin-worn smoothness of the wood delighting him, posing no barrier to sensing the power of his ship under his hands as she bore through the waves. Long years without her, he had regained his freedom to sail to the horizons and beyond with her. As he glanced up to check the draw of the black sails, memories of other seas and climes flashed through his mind, exotic ports in Siam and India to the cold grey swells of the North Atlantic. The red horizon westward beckoned and he smiled.
To the Victor
"Now, what should it be?
Where's the best place for it?
How big is just right?
What will look the prettiest?"
Jack paused in his ruminations to stimulate his creative juices with a healthy swig of rum the colour of darkest amber. Thoughtfully inspecting his bare torso and limbs, he had to decide soon.
"Ah! That's it, just the thing."
Quickly sketching out his design, he showed the tattooist the exact place.
Much rum later, Jack's painted hide sported a bandana and bead adorned pirate skull, a dagger between its teeth, leering out where Barbossa's sword had run him through.
A Pirate's Pirate - Crossover
For all his seeming endless chatter, Jack Sparrow rarely let fall any details of his past. It was a mystery the denizens of the Caribbean delighted to speculate upon, from pubs to forecastles, navy ships to pirate ships, the stews of Tortuga to governor's palaces. Where did he come from, where had he been, where did he learn to handle a ship the way he did? A great many questions that engendered staggering flights of fantastical answers, a goodly number of which were fuelled by lovely Jamaican rum in less than lovely surroundings. Admittedly the focus of such vigorous exercises of imagination was not above adding his own unique fuel to the fire, sending the stories off on even more improbable tangents; one notable tale involving lashings of human hair (from Sparrow's own back, they say) to harness sea turtles to escape a marooning.
On the odd occasion, the Pearl's crew could persuade their secretive captain to divulge some crumbs of his past, although it was always questionable what crumbs were true in the stories. When it was quiet, in the evenings on board after the day's work was done, then the time came for music, drink and the spinning of yarns. On one such night, talk centred on fighting ships and battles seen or heard of. Gibbs and the other former naval men held the edge on the subject until someone asked Jack about the earliest sea battle he had seen.
Sparrow took a thoughtful swig of rum whilst he considered the question, then seated himself on a hatch cover and prepared to regale his audience.
"It was when I was a mere lad, back when William of Orange had just become King. The Frenchman de Rivarol, not so honourable as our own fine Commodore, tried to take Port Royal and had a fair opportunity to do just that as the fleet under Governor Bishop was busy chasing pirates and sorely neglecting to mind their proper business. The French ships sailed right into the harbour and blasted away into the town and the fort, until the fort was just smoking rubble. I was near deafened by the noise of the cannons and the screams but through the smoke hanging over the bay I saw a great ship appear, her red hull blazing like a phoenix in a shaft of sun, and she opened fire upon the French ships."
"The engagement was terrible fierce; at such close range, there was little chance for that fine ship to survive but her captain knew his business, even in a battle as desperate as this. He brought her in between the French ships and fired at them until his own ship took such heavy damage below that she began to sink rapidly. You know your own selves that the only way to survive in such dire straight is to board and take the other vessel and that is exactly what the red ship's crew did on that day. I got as close to the bay as I could, being a curious lad as young fellas are, and was able to see most of what happened and can still see it as clearly now as then. The captain of that great red ship done what he had to do even though it cost him so dear but save Port Royal he did, even though he was pirate and her a pirate ship. I've never forgot what I saw that day."
"Who was 'e, Jack? What pirate, what ship?" Anamaria asked. Gibbs and some of the older hands nodded, the story known to them. The rest of the crew waited without so much as a twitch, entranced by Jack's flying hands and words.
"Who was he, luv? He was Captain Blood and his ship the Arabella, stolen from the Spanish some years before. He went all respectable after that, even became the Governor and all," Jack answered, raising his rum in salute, "funny ol' world, innit?"
A Perfect Day
Creak of masts and yards,
Sough of the wind through rigging,
Splash of the bow wave rushing back along an ebon hull,
Chatter of dolphins cavorting beneath the bowsprit,
Chime of coins and beads braided into black hair,
Delicate preening of a whiskery face by a warm beak and soft tongue,
Snap of linen sleeves in the fair wind abeam,
Thuds from the gun deck below as crew worked,
Dark-rimmed eyes raised to the sun's tropic kiss,
Feeling the ship's dance with the cobalt sea
Through passionate muscle and bone,
Chasing ever the horizon's siren call.