Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any other Disney based movie franchise. I merely own the merchandise.
Synopsis: Playing host to movie characters that stroll through is harder than it looks. More so when they're not the good guys.
Beatrice sipped at her coffee contently, eyes closed . Ah...blessed sweet silence. It was rare to find that nowadays, considering.
Considering that for some strange reason her home was now the hub central of any and most likely every fictional character that fancied strolling through.
It wasn't her fault, really. They just stepped out of the linen closet one day, with no explanation and no apology for tracking grime through the house.
They weren't the most...hygienic lot around but it's not like Beatrice could point this out. Speaking of which one such character had strolled over to the liquor cabinet and without so much as a by your leave started to rummage around in it.
On not finding what he was looking for he turned to the teen.
"Is there a reason for the sudden inexplicable absence of alcohol?"
Beatrice looked over her mug at the pirate.
"Yes"
This did not seem to satisfy the man.
"And would you care to explain why?"
"Because"
"You'll have to explain a little more than that" his hand was resting on the hilt of a sword. a very real and very sharp sword. Cutlass to be accurate.
"Because the last thing this place needs is a group of drunken, armed men who have redefined the meaning of 'culture shock'"
To be fair it wasn't because they didn't know the rules. In fact those that had passed through so far had a surprisingly good grasp on modern society. It was just they didn't care.
"Ah" was all the reply she got before he stalked out of the room.
She watched the last of his feathered hat disappear around the corner and sighed, sagging in her chair. That had been one of the better encounters.
There was a blast and the sound of something shattering followed by riotous laughter in the living room. Beatrice groaned and sunk her head into her hands. Undoubtedly another hole had joined the ever growing amount that littered the walls.
It's okay, it's okay. It's single shot pistols. They'll run out of ammo sooner rather than later.
"Why...why did it have to be the bad guys?"
Her house had now become ground zero for pirates playing the tourist. and not just any pirates no.
"It's not that bad" a voice tried from behind. She turned to face the wooden eye of Ragetti, giving him a faintly annoyed look. His partner, Pintel was curiously absent.
"Oh? really? Thanks to that last shot there is currently no vase left standing, I've had to stop people setting the furniture on fire more than once, anything vaguely shiny has disappeared, you've raided my fathers liquor cabinet AND the fridge, I've been personally shot at and used as a moving target five times and my cat has run off!...the lucky bastard"
"It could be worse" the gangly man pointed out. Beatrice paused, then sagged. He was right. It could be worse.
"So what can I do for you then? or did you just come to see me?"
As far as this lot went, Ragetti wasn't such a bad guy. He was decent enough to avoid threatening her and so far he had yet do anything that was too destructive. Hell he was almost likable, if his fake eye didn't bother you any.
"The Captain would like you to know he'll be conducting business that is to be held until further notice"
"Great...Barbossa is sleeping on my couch now too. Can this day get any better?"
"Actually, he say's he's taking that nice big fancy room on the second floor and your best to avoid it"
"What? that's my parents room! They'll kill me!"
They'd kill her anyway on seeing what had happened to the house.
Beatrice was glad they were away on business right now. She wouldn't know how to begin to explain it all. For the past two days she had been thrown into the mixed role of host/ bar maid and her nerves were all but shot. Most of that time was spent actively trying to stay alive and keep the mob that had invaded happy. Preserving the house was wishful thinking on her part.
"Fine fine...what 'business' is this anyway?"
"None of yours!"
Ah, she wondered when Pintel was going to appear.
"And what are you scowling about?" Beatrice noticed the displeased look on his face.
He didn't answer, she didn't expect one really, just gave her a filthy look and left. Beatrice had a notion of what could of annoyed him.
"And I've hidden the keys!" She called out after him, only to hear swearing in reply. Yup, she was right. After nearly having her mothers entire collection of cars (she was an avid hoarder of all things with motors) disappear from the garage at one point Beatrice had the forethought to hide the ignition keys. Pirates joyriding in the street made her shudder.
She was actually surprised they knew about the automobile since she was sure the engine wasn't discovered in their time period. Just one more mystery to add to the ever growing number. Such as when were they going to leave?
Another blast from the lounge room.
Not soon enough.
Best go see what the damage was then.
It seemed most of the crew had actually left and the remaining few had discovered the X box. And volume control. She winced as the ATAT exploded on screen, sending her partway deaf. More laughter from the two remaining pirates .Two who as far as she knew, were extras in the movie and thus had no name. The one with the smoking beard and some earring fellow.
The earring one reached for the controller, the other held it out of his reach, obviously not thinking his characters death as a sign of his turn being over.
The first promptly took out his pistol and shot the offending hand, snatching up the controller as it fell. He was lucky he hadn't shot the consol to pieces.
Beatrice swallowed thickly and left. Really, no matter how many times she saw it she could not get use to it.
The violence. It was all well and good for them, they were immortal and even if they weren't they deal with death at a regular basis. It had become a form of entertainment to them.
Beatrice could still remember the first time she had seen one suffer a would be fatal wound. Some insult or another that they felt blades could settle. The man had been run right through. Beatrice almost had a heart attack on the spot, not helped when the man just pulled out the sword and handed it back.
She needed a coffee...some Prozac would be nice too.
The teen retreated to the relative safety of the kitchen. It had been unofficially declared a ceasefire zone. Apparently after having been barred from food for ten years the pirates viewed it as semi sacred and took it very seriously.
Though she was confused at that. Obviously they were still immortal, what with surviving most normal 'insta death' wounds, yet they had proceeded to empty her house of anything edible. What was up with that?
She groaned to herself, rubbing at her temples. A headache was beginning to form.
Two days, TWO days she had been catering for the crew and in all that time she had not stopped once. Survival had taken priority over sleep.
Now seemed like as good as time as any. The novelty of her home had worn off and most had gone back through the linen closet, taking with them the silverware and the good china.
She was tired, her nerves were shot and she was getting snarky as a result. Snarky-ness would not help her situation any.
Her room was small and had already been raided. It wouldn't hold the interest of anyone outside and so went the theory, she'd get left alone. The vanity cupboard dragged in front of the door made sure of that, and her hockey stick by the bed made sure the point was clear should any of them be persistent.
Lucky for her none were persistent. If any were curious she never would of known in her comatose state. She slept through most of the day and part way into the night before her body woke her with the message she really needed to go.
Still half asleep she managed to drag the cupboard partway, slip through the small gap it provided and staggered her way down the hall.
All was quiet.
She nearly tripped over the sleeping form of someone who had decided the banister was as good of a place to sleep as any. It was probably a lot nicer than some of the other places they had passed out.
She made sure to avoid them on the way back, and sidestepped right into someone.
"oof!"
She staggered back as an arm steadied her, less she take a header down the stairs. That would of been unpleasant.
"Thanks I..." She saw the hand. She looked up, eyes widening. She saw the rest of him and she really hated the architect right then for placing the window where it was.
"what's up with her?"
Pintel gestured to where Beatrice was whimpering, rocking back and forward under the kitchen table.
"Bad illumination on the stairway" Ragetti offered.
"Ah...and the sticks?"
She was holding onto a bundle of sticks tightly shaped into a makeshift cross.
"Apparently there were no religious items to be had"
"Ah..."
There was a pause.
"She does know crosses don't work on us right?"
"Since it was one of us that gave it to her, yea"
"Wait...why did someone give it to her in the first place"
"Dunno..." Ragetti shrugged. "Some sort of comfort thing"
"Since when do we care?"
"Oh we don't. just the gibbering was starting to get on peoples nerves"
"Ah"
a beat
"we found where she hid the stash. Care for a drink?"
"Sure"
(Whoops, my bad. Thanks sunshine, i've reloaded the chapter with the correct names. Hopefully. Cheers for spotting it)
Back to absurdisim humour. I always found the idea of the characters using our world as a holday hot spot to be amusing, and found it strange how the baddies are always noticably absent. I mean, if the good guys can world hop i don't see why the villans can't.
Was debating serious, but then figured, hey its an absurd situation, it doesn't have to make sense . It just has to be entertaining.