Jack the Action Figure

Chapter Two – Plastic Pirate

Jack woke from sleep, but as per old habits carved into the polished wood of his brain by time and unpleasant experience, he kept his eyes decisively shut. He would have also tried to keep his breathing slow and even in order to disguise the fact that he was no longer sleeping, but he didn't feel any rise or fall of his chest in the first place. Strange.

He felt warm without being uncomfortable and air was moving over him gently. He paid close attention to the smells around him and they were equally strange: nowhere was the sharpness of alcohol nor any of the deep, thick aroma of sweat, smells by which Jack could often place himself without opening his eyes. The air, instead, was lightly perfumed, as though a woman had recently walked by. He heard, when he strained, soft female whispers, occasional giggles, then once: the word pirate.

He was being watched.

Jack ventured a pretend sleep-twitch. His arm moved freely and no longer seemed to be bound at the elbow as it had been in what – he could only conclude – had been a dream. This was a good thing. A better thing, he discovered as he moved his other arm, was that his pistol was in his hand. The familiar weight of it at the end of his fingers always slowed his racing heart. His eyebrows twitched together at that – racing heart? Now that he thought on it, he couldn't actually feel –

"Captain Sparrow!"

Jack yelped in surprise and his eyes flew open. Habit kept the gun in his hand, but he would have fallen over in shock if not for two things. Firstly, he opened his eyes to find himself standing upright. His booted feet were bound at the ankles and along his calves, and so he remained standing upright. The second was that he froze immediately, because there was nothing before him but what seemed to be empty space and, as confirmed by a downward flick of the eyes, a sheer drop. His eyes snapped shut.

"What's goin' on!" roared Jack. His shook his pistol over his head and nearly knocked off his hat. "I swear by all salt that if this situation is not immediately remedied, there'll be hell t' pay!" He pointed his pistol about in what he hoped were threatening directions. His finger sought out the trigger.

He was met with a not-unfriendly rumble of a laugh. "Ease up there, small friend. I don't think you're in much of a position to pay anyone." This was followed by female titters, and Jack opened one eye and looked about. The drop before him was a substantial one, but he craned his neck a little farther and saw a –

"White monstrosity! Furry villain! What's th' meaning 'o such entrapment!" He struggled slightly to demonstrate. "And how is it that you know my name?" The immense, white, fur-covered creature stood and scooted backwards in order to keep eye contact without Jack needing to lean forward. It was a dog.

Jack was regarded – as well as possible, past the mass of fur – by a great brown eye. The dog spoke again. "Peace, plastic pirate. You'll get nowhere without some help. And help is only for the well-adjusted." He chuckled again. "Your feet are bound because you are meant to stand. I know your name because I pay attention to The Girl's grocery bags." A white stump of a tail swished back and forth over the carpet. "More often than not, something in those bags is for me!"

"And am I one of those things? Am I to be cast into your great mouth? I mean, that's got t' be the meaning of a word such as plastic!" He struggled again, and looked to his belt for his cutlass "Help! I am a sacrifice! I am a plastic!"

The dog laughed again, and the female audience that Jack could not place laughed as well. "Being plastic doesn't mean you're to be eaten. It means – it's what you're made of." Jack stopped his and his eyes grew wide.

"Is that an insult? Why, sir," he cried down to the white dog, "I'll not stand to be insulted in such a way! I'm made of 'nought but steel and salt, good monster, and that shall be proven if you release me from these cowardly bonds!" Jack looked down at his boots and saw that a strange, transparent iron had been clapped over each ankle. He tried to bend forward to reach them, but his normally limber movement was impeded by a stiff object that ran up the back of his bottom, along up the small of his back, and cinched him around the waist. What devices were these?

The dog stood, its tail wagging freely. "You're an energetic one, I'll give you that," he rumbled. "But enough play for now. The Girl will be home from College soon, and we can't have you shrieking and carrying on when she gets here." Without warning, the dog stood upon his hind legs and placed his paws somewhere below the surface where Jack was standing. Jack, badly startled by the dog's sudden eyelevel with him, dropped his gun.

Now that the great dog was close, Jack could see his eyes clearly. One was slightly milky, like an old man's. But the eyes were rolling now. "No, no. Don't drop anything. She'll think you've been played with by someone." Jack's gun was carefully taken in the dog's teeth, and held within his reach. Jack took hold of it, awash in warm, rank breath.

"Who's The Girl?" The dog's nose twitched.

"You're Hers now. Just like all the other models and things she's collected over the years. Now you'd better –"

The dog had leapt heavily down and was beginning to trot away. "Toys? You mean playthings for babes?" Terrible realization was beginning to dawn on the pirate Captain. Perhaps – perhaps not a dream?

"Oh no, not at all," the dog said over his shoulder. "You're completely different - "

Jack heaved a relieved sigh and had decided to find a maker to thank, when the dog finished: "You're collectable."


Author's Note – it's obscene how much writing I get done at certain times of the year, say, finals time. Many thanks to my reviewers!

That's right, aaidenkae, now we know what they're thinking. I'd watch out for Legolas – he strikes me as a randy sort of fellow. Thanks Sweetlilbee for continued fanship, but I guess that's kind of hard to avoid when you live in the room next to mine (which means I know where you sleep if you don't review ). Thanks, Calliope Foster, for the kind words, and I will certainly try to keep things entertaining for you. And finally, CaptainTish, it sounds like you didn't think this was a continuing saga! I hope you come back for more! And thanks!

As always, more to come!