Disclaimer: Don't own POTC, don't own I, Robot.
Thank you for all the reviews! And I'm only to the third chapter as well! This is way better than the last time I posted this! Thank you all!
Here he is, folks. The infamous captain, himself!
Jolly Ole' Jail
Robin was violently shoved down the moist-walled stone hallway of the Port Royal prison towards a small dank cell in the back with hard crisscrossing bars covering the door. The guards slowly unlocked the creaky door, throwing it open and thrusting Robin to the straw-covered floor inside, grunting. They sneered at her through the bars.
"You'll 'ave a nice long stay in there 'til time 'as come," said the one on the right with an unpleasant grin. The other one cackled, locking the door with a large metal key. They both slapped each other on the back and marched out of the prison, backs perfectly straight.
"Joy," said Robin sarcastically, brushing herself off. She scooted against the far wall of the cell and examined the heavy damp irons still clamped around her wrists. They would be simple enough to get off. Merely a basic lock had been used in them.
Robin glanced around, noting her surroundings. Her cell was at the end of a long stone hallway. There was one window near the ceiling and it was barred. Outside her cell, the hallway continued down some stairs and out of sight. There was a staircase across from a cell two cells away. On the far wall of the hallway a hat and belt hung on some iron hooks nailed to the wall.
Robin stared at the lock to her cell. It was a bit more complicated than the ones that fastened the irons to her wrists. Nothing she couldn't handle though, of course.
"Wha're ye in fer?" came a voice. Robin looked around and spotted a man in the corner across from her in the same cell. He wore a billowy dirty white shirt under a dark blue vest and brown pants. Apparently his overcoat, hat, and belt were the ones hanging on the hooks in the hallway. Robin couldn't make out his face because of the black tri-corner hat pulled low over his eyes. She looked at him with an exasperated look on her face.
"I'm locked in a cage with this drunk? Now I know I'm having a good day," she said sarcastically.
"Now tha's a bit harsh, Miss," said the man, looking up with a falsely hurt look on his face. Robin noticed that he was quite handsome for a drunk. He was tanned from hours in the sunlight, with coarse, wild, dark hair in dreadlocks under a worn red bandana. She spotted long chains of beads and what looked like a fragment of bone woven in. He had a small mustache and a short beard that was in two small beaded braids. But the most captivating thing about him were his eyes. They were a dark cinnamon brown, lined with kohl, and seemed to hold trickery, depth, and…was that wisdom? No, couldn't be.
"Hey dude," said Robin simply, turning her attention to opening a small pocket on her pants. This was harder than usual, her hands being cuffed.
The man watched her curiously from under his hat as Robin unbuttoned her pocket and pulled out an odd silver instrument. It was like a small knife with a thin bent blade with a split tip. She inserted it into the lock on one of her wrists and turned it. To the man's great surprise, the iron snapped open. Robin shook it off and pulled the knife out of it, unlocking the other one as well. She rubbed her wrists, putting the tool back into the pocket.
"That's interesting," said the man, staring at Robin. She glanced at him.
"Sorry, didn't catch your name," she said.
"I didn't catch yours," said the man.
"I asked you first," said Robin. The man smirked, showing a few golden teeth.
"Name's Captain Jack Sparrow, formerly of the Black Pearl," said the man. He held out a dirty hand with many ringed fingers.
"And my name is Robin Turlo, and I am from the future," said Robin, smiling and shaking his hand. The captain paused, looking warily at her before speaking.
"Yer mad, lass. But that would explain the strange clothes of which you wear," he said, laughing as he eyeed her garb oddly. "Well Miss Turlo, welcome to the Caribbean."
He smiled sarcastically at her, displaying the teeth once more, and stood up, waving his hand around the cell exuberantly. Robin stood as well.
"Don't call me Miss, whatever you do. Call me Rob or Robin, all me friends do. You a merchant sailor or what?" she asked, looking him up and down.
"Well since we be in a jail, I'll tell ye. I am guilty of piracy, smuggling, impersonating an officer of the Spanish Royal Navy, impersonating a cleric of the Church of England, sailing under false colors, arson, kidnapping, looting, poaching, brigandage, pilfering, depravity, depredation, an' general lawlessness. Ye now. Wha're ye in fer?" asked Jack. He said this all very animatedly, waving his arms in a drunken manner as he spoke.
"Stealing, looting, pillaging, plundering, piracy…ya get the idea," said Robin. Jack blinked.
"How long exactly have you been here?" he asked.
"Twenty minutes exactly," said Robin.
"An' ye did all tha' in tha' amount of time?" asked Jack.
"Well no…actually that's my occupation. The reason I'm in jail here is because I somehow landed in the street and the stupid COMMODORE found me. I told him I was from the future. He didn't believe me. He put me in here for piracy by framing me. So naturally I attacked the guards. Then they had another reason to arrest me. So here I am, in this lovely prison. Jolly good day in the jolly ole jail, don't you think?" said Robin sarcastically.
She crossed her arms and sat down in the corner pouting. Jack nodded in understanding, swaggering over and sitting down next to her.
"Where exac'ly do ye come from in the future?" he asked.
"Chicago," said Robin simply. Jack raised an eyebrow. He had never heard of Chicago.
"Do ye work alone in yer…occupational trips?"
"No. There're four of us. Me, Clay Donner, Troy Kirty, and Leon Wirflo. We all steal good bartering items and sell them fer a higher price on the Black Market," said Robin. "Leon's got himself a reputation as an escaped convict for some strange reason he never mentions. That's pretty much it. Now…you are formerly of the Black Pearl, why?"
Jack winced for a moment, as if the memory was painful, before responding in a sharp tone.
"That's for me to know and ye to find out for yerself."
He turned towards the neighboring cell whose inhabitants were beckoning a dog towards them with a large bone. They whistled and beckoned in increasingly panicked tones.
"You can keep doing that forever the dog is never going to move," said Jack in a careless manner. One man turned around, staring at him.
"Well excuse us if we haven't resigned ourselves to the gallows just yet!" he said in a defensive tone. Robin's head shot up suddenly.
"Gallows? They're going to hang us?" said Robin questioningly. Jack looked at her oddly.
"As a matter of fact…YES, they are," he said sarcastically.
"What? Can't they just shoot us and be done with it?" asked Robin.
"You prefer that?"
"Well yeah," said Robin, shrugging. "Faster."
"I don't think they let you choose the way you die," said Jack. "My apologies for the inconvenience.
Robin moaned and sprawled her body on the floor hopelessly.
"Figures! This is the story of my life. When things are bad…THEY GET WORSE!" she yelled angrily.
Jack looked over at her, suppressing a smirk.
"Well ye seem to be taking this oddly well for a first timer," he said. Robin shot him a nasty look and pulled herself into a sitting position against the wall.
"Waiting to be killed…waiting to be killed…" she mumbled in a singsong voice. Jack laughed quietly to himself and sat up against the far wall, pulling his hat over his eyes once more.
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There ya go, the greatest Cap-i-tan on two legs. REVIEW OR BUST!
