So, this is just a little test run. It's a re-make of a story I was previously writing with my friend Weiryn's Daughter, of which we should be starting back up soon.
Don't expect much, just do me a favor and give me some corrections and don't forget to tell me what you like!
Enjoy this short... If it does continue, it will need a new title...
Suggestions welcome for that area.
DISCLAIMER: This is FANFICTION people, obviously not my own work. The only character I own is the heavy-set girl, whose name is currently Mara Jane McArthur. Please don't steal. x)
(One more thing, this chapter has been replaced from the original. I got a review suggesting that I not use an accent for Jack and I took the advice as I found it true after thinking about it for a time. I ignored this fic for a little while, disinterested, but have picked it back up for whatever reason. However, the time passing from when I first wrote thischapter to when I picked it back up has caused some confusion in the plot line also. It's never exactly said how Jack learns my OC's name due to an error in judgment when this story was begun, but I'm hoping you can forgive me for that along with any slight changes in Jack's personality from this chapter to the next. Thanks!)
Paper Heart
As the wind blows through my dread locked hair, and cools my tanned flesh I almost feel adventure once again swooping down on me like an enemy pirate attacking from above. It's a feeling one never forgets. Once you've had the feeling, you crave it, like rum, it's an addiction you cannot escape, nor can it be ignored. I hold tightly to the crow's nest, lest I should fall, almost willing myself not to. It's a constant danger, but so is the life I live.
The life of a pirate.
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Entry 786
Port Royal. . . Cozy little town. . . Contains quite the opposite aura of that of my ship, the Black Pearl. But it's home to some of the richest people in the world, and home to some good friends of mine, if that's what you'd call them. Will and Elizabeth Turner, I call them my 'easily bought help', but they don't need to know that. Yes, the Turners, such saps, but they're nice that way. Especially Elizabeth. Will's nice too, but he's a bit of a eunuch. It's a wonder he ever even bothered marrying Elizabeth. I doubt they'll ever have kids, I'll be cursed forever if they do. (Made a bet with Gibbs. . . Loser has to carry Aztec gold in their pocket for the rest of eternity. That's a LONG time.)
We're almost there now, so close I can hear the busy streets, the carts as they rumble across the stones paving the street, and the people yelling, talking. It's the very thing I always hated about land and cities. . . The noise. I like the ocean, the cool breeze, and the quiet waves that speak in a tongue only a hardened sailor can understand. . . Only I can understand.
Ask a land faring man what he hears when he hears the ocean and all he'll tell you is he hears the waves, then he'll walk away. Ask me what I hear and I'll say I hear the dramatic voice of an ancient spirit, calling for you to come away, and the pained voice of a new born, wanting someone to love it, punishing those who don't respect it with a crashing wail. I don't just hear the waves, I hear the ocean. I hear my own voice. Calling, wanting, punishing those who don't respect me. Perhaps that is why I am a sailor, why I'm a Captain. Who knows for sure? I doubt even the pagan gods in Africa know the depths of my heart. How can they when I myself constantly question it's true longing?
Today life has been given to me on a gold platter, in the form of Port Royal. Yes, Port Royal is mine for the taking, or rather, the money of a rich merchant who is simply passing through. The gold is on his boat. . . And I plan to steal it all. My crew and I need money, and that's where we are going to get it. With a little help. I just hope we don't catch up with Norrington and his men, the last thing I want are more holes in my ship. It leaks enough already. I really should fix that. . . But not now, I have a raid to organize.
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"Alright, mates, this time we take it all! Remember, get in, take what yeh can, and get out! I'll take care of getting us a hostage. You boys just deal with getting the gold." As Jack looked at the crew he swallowed hard and corrected himself. "You boys and ladies, of course. . ."
The only girl in the crew smiled curtly, then returned her face to the usual, half angry frown. "Of course, Captain. Just be sure you understand that point."
"I will, Anamaria. . ." Jack turned away, trying not to reveal his unnerve. "To the boats!" He ran towards the railing, and jumped over into a long boat. As it was lowered into the water and rowed to shore, he carefully planned his agenda. Jack's whole focus was on saying hello to the Turners (to keep up their friendship, for use in opportune moments of the near or far future), and finding a hostage. Any RICH hostage would do. As he got out of the boat and hurried down the street, night began to swell around him. He felt his pistol and cutlass bump against his leg in time to his slow jog. Rounding a corner, he slowed his jog to a fast swagger. Mostly just trying to look a bit more natural as he approached the Turner home. He didn't want look too anxious, so as to not alert authorities, but what he was really worried about was Will's astute observances or Elizabeth's feminine know-how. He hoped the couple would be caught off guard by his sudden visit, and too surprised to think much. Then again, if they were too surprised, they might become suspicious, and figure out everything. Indeed, friendships were delicate things.
Jack slowed his quick swagger even more, till it became a slow jaunt. As he stepped into the bushes, he shut his eyes in defense against the branches, opening them once again when he had reached the Turner's empty backyard. He glanced around, his chocolaty, brown eyes shifting to take in the entire yard. He scurried over to the porch railing, eased himself over casually, and stepped down. He withdrew a length of rope from inside his coat, a small hook attached to the end, and grinning, threw the hook up into an open window. It caught solidly on something just below the windowsill. He tugged for a moment, checking the solidity, then deeming it safe, scaled the wall of the house and entered through the gaping window. "Well, that was easy." He whispered to himself, unknowingly acting as if he was still afraid to be caught. Suddenly, a wail startled him. His eyes and arms waved about wildly as he tried to find where it was coming from. A baby! He stared down at the tiny child in the crib, mouth gaping almost as large as the open window. He swallowed hard as he looked at the child. "Gibbs cannot find out about this one. . .I'll never have any fun. Food will turn to ash in me mouth. . .Rum will. . .Rum! Rum will go straight through me! Not good! Definitely not good!" He turned when footsteps approached the nursery. "The Turners!" He rolled to the floor, disappearing under a make-shift cot to one side of the room, right as Elizabeth Turner entered.
"Oh, dear. Will! The baby is hungry again! Tell Miss McArthur I won't be able to see her off!"
"Yes, Elizabeth!"
Jack's eyes nearly bulged in surprise, shock, and discomfort as Elizabeth pulled the baby from the crib and moved towards a rocking chair in the middle of the room. He knew what came next when a mother fed her child, and as much as he wanted to see. . . that; he knew it would ruin all chances of saying hello to the Turners without earning himself a slap. And he REALLY didn't feel like getting slapped, nor did he want to face the husband's wrath. So, as much as he hated to do so, Jack rolled himself out from under the bed and stood, surprising Elizabeth. "'Ello there, luv'. . . Beautiful baby. . . Just thought I'd stop by to see you two before me ship took off again. . ." Jack winced as he finished this last line. Now Elizabeth was sure to ask WHY he was in Port Royal.
"Oh, Jack. It's you… Scared me a bit there… But, um, tell me," Elizabeth cocked her head to the side. "Why are you here?"
There it was, the last thing on Earth Jack had wanted to hear come from Elizabeth's mouth. "Well, you see, luv. . ." Jack waved his arms drunkenly, hoping perhaps he could drabble on for awhile and distract Elizabeth from her original question. "We were out of rum, and do you know how much I like rum?" That was a good line. Elizabeth was sure to think he was drunk now, he could say hello, goodbye, and get off without them worrying in the least.
"Yes. . . I do happen to realize how much you enjoy rum. . . Perhaps a bit too much- WILL! I need you for a moment!"
Jack smiled to himself when footsteps were heard coming up the stairs. He hid his glee and transformed his face into one of complete idiocy immediately receiving a saddened glance from the curly haired young man. "Hi there." Jack said, trying to sound slurred. It didn't come out as well as he had hoped, but it would work well enough.
"Yes. Of course." Will said as he stared at Jack for a moment, his eyes searching for any sign of soberness. There was none. Jack had completely covered his tracks. "I'm sure Miss McArthur won't mind you feeding the baby while she's here, go ahead down and keep her occupied while I deal with," Will's tired eyes searched Jack again. "Him."
Elizabeth's loud sigh gave away her frustration. "Alright."
Jack tried not to smile as Elizabeth made her exit. He watched Will watch him, in an uncomfortable silence. Finally he could stand it no more. "So, who is this McArthur that you've got over, hmm?"
The corners of Will's lips twitched into an amused smile. "I was waiting for that. Jack, when are you going to find yourself a REAL hobby? Kidnapping girls and trying to get a ransom for them isn't going to work much longer. Everyone knows you haven't the heart to kill them and that if they wait long enough you'll just release the girl."
Jack's heart sank. Where had he gone wrong? After careful planning, and some humiliation with pretending to be drunk, yet again, his plans were ruined. "That's not why I was asking! I was just curious! REALLY, I was."
Will nodded slowly, then shook his head and stared hard at Jack. "I don't believe you."
That was a killer. Jack felt his brain stumble over things to say, coming up with no defense, except, one that usually never worked, but just might right now. It seemed to be the opportune moment, the only way to find out if it really was or not was to try. "Alright, fine. You caught me. My plan, was to steal some money, which my crew is doing right now, kidnap a girl, which is what I was doing right now, call for a ransom, which is what I would have done eventually, and once I got the ransom, let the girl go, after wooing her and making her fall head over heels for me. Then, she would join back up with me, after finding herself dissatisfied with her former life and we'd live happily ever after. At least until I dumped her in Tortuga and found meself another girl, there she would become a prostitute for the rest of her life. Now, are you going to let me get on with my plans or not, young Turner? I've a lot to do, and not much time left to do it in." He watched Will's blank face, anxiously waiting the reaction.
"You really need to stop drinking rum. That was THE worst plan I have ever heard you come up with! Can't you think of better excuses to come visit me and Elizabeth?"
Bingo.
"Jack, how is it that you can come up with these humorous lines on the spot like that? No wonder you have so many enemies, if you really tell such bad jokes all the time-"
By now Jack had stopped listening. He was too busy preparing himself for his escape. "Listen, Turner, as much as I'd like to stay and chat, I do have a ship to attend to. Unlike yourself, I don't make money off social gatherings."
Will nodded slowly. "Yes. . . The trouble is, how to get you out without anyone noticing. The last time you tried to leave out the window, you fell, sprained your ankle, and more than half of the neighbors heard you cry out, leaving me to pretend to be injured for two weeks. You'll have to go downstairs and go out either the front or the back door, but either way, you risk being seen by our guest."
"I'll take the back. Besides, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow! How hard can it be ta sneak past a girl?"
Will raised an eyebrow. "Plenty. Trust me. I can't even so much as lean over without Elizabeth noticing."
Jack's brow furrowed, then his lips quirked into a smile. "Well, of course you can't. Don't you know where her eyes are when you do? She's just waiting for a chance to look at you." He watched Will's face redden in embarrassment.
"That's not what I meant. . ."
"I know. Don't get your breeches tied up in knot, Turner. I'm just playing around. Now, where's this back door you keep telling me about?" Jack began to slink down the curving stairs, his eyes darting across the room towards the door to the parlor from which female voices could be heard. Before Will could so much as protest, Jack had slid down the railing, and scurried across the room to the door of the parlor, had peeked in, and was headed for the kitchen. "Coming, Turner?"
Will scowled as he jogged down the steps. "You know I hate it when you do that. Please stop TRYING to give me a heart attack."
Jack grinned. "I just wanted a little look-see. Miss McArthur is very pretty, you know. But, I noticed, she's a bit on the pudgy side."
Will nodded distastefully. "Yes. Pretty but pudgy. . ." He turned his head then snapped back. "That's not at all what I meant! I was mocking you. . . It's not my place, or anyone's really, to remark on something like that!" Will fell silent, a slight blush passing across his face.
Jack nodded slightly. "So, then why did you?"
"I was just absentmindedly repeating what YOU had said! Stop trying to make me look like an idiot, Jack! "
Jack instantaneously decided that it was for the better if he ignored this last comment. He continued through the kitchen and out the back, turning at the last moment to tip his hat. "G'day, Mr. Turner." He smiled as Will rolled his eyes, shutting the door in Jack's face. He shrugged it off and whistled merrily as he swaggered down the porch steps. "Now, what's next?"
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Entry 787
I hear approaching ships in the distance. My men are running around on deck and I can hear Gibbs barking orders. This means I don't have much time to write, just enough to clear my head for battle. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I didn't write every day, would my head explode from worry? I know I would be very distracted constantly, that could get me into a lot of trouble. Every human in this world needs to let out their feelings, most do so by talking to other pathetic people with the same problems as their own. I can't. No one has my problems. I used to try to tell other people my worries as a small child, but no one ever listened. They just told me I was a silly little boy and that I should run along and play with the other boys at that miserable orphanage. That was when I began writing in journals. I ached for someone to talk to, and a book is a very good listener, believe it or not. So, I survived my childhood only with pen and paper, not that horrible rosemary and switch foot herb tea they used to make us drink. They said it would keep us from becoming ill, but sometimes I wonder if it isn't the very reason I was so ill all the time. Considering that once I stopped drinking it and switched to rum I was quite fine.
But back to what I had planned on talking about. Which happens to be the question of my sanity. Many question whether or not I have my head about me, I know I do, but still they question. This includes the hostage we now have on board. Miss McArthur. Pretty thing, big, but pretty. Her mouth is more than I can take. I wish I could toss her overboard and forget the entire plan, but that would mean we wouldn't get a ransom. Miss McArthur hasn't stopped yelling, crying, and carrying on since she boarded the Pearl. I can hear her even now, despite the fact that she is locked in the brig, and far away. She makes me want to jump overboard and swim away as fast as I can. Mainly because as soon as we defeat the British navy that follows us, I'll have to go down there and talk to her. Sometimes I wish I wasn't Captain, but then I think about all the other things I would miss if I wasn't Captain and take back my wish. No occupation is perfect, even being a pirate Captain has it's downs. Which is more than I care to believe.
The first thing the girl said to me when we got on board, and I had told her my plans, was "You're mad!" So? Maybe I am. If that's what she cares to believe, then that is what she'll get. I'll be mad all the time. Then, when she gets home, she'll tell all her mindless little twits for friends how insane Captain Jack Sparrow is. I could care less what they think of me. To one person I may be, that drunken Captain Sparrow. To another, that dashing Captain Jack Sparrow. And to yet another, that crazy Cap'n Sparrow. That's what I want anyway. No one should ever see the true me. They wouldn't understand it. For them to find out I have a heart, would be the worst fate I can surmise. I would no longer be a pirate. I'd just be Jack. Naked for all it's worth. A naked heart. Born to the breeze, exposed by the water's of the deep, only allowed to cry. They would no longer be interested in the hero in Sparrow, that part of me would be gone, dead to even the closest of friends, because that is what makes me different. My never ending bravery, selfishness, and the heart hidden inside.
But anyway, I only know Mara Jane McArthur's name by what the Turner's told me, not from her own mouth. Will she be like all those other girls I've met, all proper and such, and insist on introducing herself?
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Jack strode out on deck, pulling his sword from its sheath as he walked. He went to the railing and looked out over the water and the ship that was approaching. "Gibbs!"
"Aye, sir?"
"Prepare the men. We're going to try to outrun these Brits." Jack turned, a smile on his face. "This IS the fastest ship in the Caribbean, and as far as I know we're still in the Caribbean. So it shouldn't be too hard to outrun these bloody idiots."
Gibbs smiled approvingly. "Aye, aye, Cap'n."
Jack watched as the crew began to scramble up and down the masts and yardarms, trying to unfurl all the sails. He sighed when a metallic banging drifted up out of the belly of the ship. "Now she's got to bang on things. . . I'm gonna kill that little luv, if it's the last thing I do. . ." He clumsily stuck his sword back into its sheath and scrambled down the stairs, leading from the hatch to the wood floor below. He walked from the light of the open hatch to the shadow of the doorway to the brig and resisted the urge to cover his ears. "WILL YOU JUST BE QUIET FOR ONE MOMENT!"
Mara stopped suddenly, a scared look spread over her face. "Please don't hurt me. . ."
Jack stepped back in surprise to the girl's meek response. He quickly recovered, and pulled an angry look over his face. "Listen, I don't know why you're so bent on making so much racket, but it's driving us all mad. If it'll make you happier, you can come up on deck and stay in me cabin for awhile so you can get some fresh air." He stared at the girl expectantly, waiting for her response. After a few quiet moments, the girl stood from her kneeling position near the bars of the cell, and backed towards the wall.
"No. . .I won't go with you. I-I have got a boy back home who loves me. If you touch me. . .I doubt he could ever love me again. . .Please. . .I'll be quiet. I promise."
Jack raised both eyebrows in surprise. Did this girl really think he was going to hurt her, like. . .that? He swallowed hard, and took a step towards the door to the cell, keys in hand. "Well, even if you don't want to go in my room, you can at least roam around on deck. Just stay out of the galley and don't come back down here to the brig or the armory." He pushed the key into the lock on the door and turned it, the door opened, and he tucked the keys into his belt. "Coming, luv'?" He held out his hand for hers, and shook his head sadly when she shrunk back. "I may be a pirate, luv, but I'm not a beast. I've never treated a woman badly, and I've never touched one without her permission." He moved away from the cell, and took a step towards the door. "But if we're going to be making assumptions about each other, then mine is that you're weak and that I could easily get anything I wanted out of you, and that you're a spoiled, rich girl who doesn't care about anyone, but herself." He said, smiling as her eyes once again lit with fire. Turning on his heel, he walked out, the girl in close pursuit.
"Now, wait a minute, you crazy-man pirate! I'm not spoiled! My family is one of the poorest upper-class families in Port Royal! How can you say I'm spoiled!"
Jack sighed and turned to face the girl. "Low upper-class is still much better off than the normal to low common folk, or poor thieves like meself. Like I said before, spoiled AND rich." He smirked. "Not to mention weak. . ." He grabbed her wrist and yanked her closer. "I did manage to convince you to come out of your hiding place which makes things a lot easier fer me. Come on." He watched her red, angry face drain and go pale as she glanced down at the lock Jack had on her wrist.
"You just said that to stir me up and trick me! Why you-you, PIRATE!"
Jack bowed casually, a cocky smile plastered on his dirty face. "That's what I am. Rather proud of it too."
Mara attempted to pull away, slowing so much that Jack had to grunt to keep her moving. With every word she said they slowed more. "Well, you shouldn't be proud. Your line of work is an awful, illegal, stupid, cruel, twisted, evil, sick, maniacal form of idiocy! And I think anyone who's involved in anything of this sort, or involved with you, is a ninny and waste of flesh." She jerked her arm away as they stopped altogether.
Jack raised an eyebrow. Him? A ninny? Never. "Well, that's only YOUR opinion, Miss McArthur. It matters very little to me." He watched the girl toss her brown curls out her face, standing with chunky hands on chunky hips, ready to challenge him.
"Well, I think-"
"ALLEY OOP!" Jack picked Mara up and tossed her over his shoulder with a grunt. She was indeed bigger than most girls. "No more time to talk, love, we're about to get in a sea battle." He groaned as the girl began kicking, hitting him in the face with her feet.
"A what!"
The young girl fell still, all of her weight bearing straight down on Jack. It was easier moving now, without her weight constantly shifting, as much as it was. "A SEA BATTLE." Jack climbed the ladder to the deck, huffing with effort. "You know, when two ships fire cannons at each other and sometimes board each other trying to kill as many of the other as possible so as to-"
"I know that! But how can the British fire on us when I'm aboard? Don't tell me it's other pirates!" The girl raised an eyebrow as Jack dragged himself and her across the deck.
"Nope. You were right the first time, they're Brits. They won't fire probably. In fact, our plan is to outrun them, us being on the fastest ship in the Caribbean in all. . . But just in case, I want them to be able to see you, Miss McArthur. As a sort of. . . reminder." He said, thinking entirely that it probably wouldn't be too hard for them to spot her no matter where she was, out of size of waist. But, he pushed the thoughts aside and concentrated on walking and keeping the girl from crushing him.
Finally having made the trek to the bow of the ship, Jack half dropped, half placed, the short girl onto the bowsprit, then pulled a pistol, cocked it, and pointed it directly at her. "Try to jump and I'll blast out your brains." He smiled, then, taking a long needed breath, turned his attention to the approaching ships at the portside, keeping watch on her out of the corner of his eye.
Mara clung to her appointed place fearfully, she glanced down knowing that if Jack's bullet didn't kill her, the drop would. Moments dripped by as she held herself flat, the breaths in her chest constrained against the wooden pole, she wondered if she would survive. Her feet just barely touched the top of the mermaid shaped figurehead, leaving her with an urge to climb down, but too great a fear of Jack's gun to actually do so. She turned her head carefully to see what Jack was doing. Jack, yes, Jack, the crazy-man pirate Captain who still stood brazen to the spot which she had last seen him. Gun pointed fore, head turned to port bow, his eyes shifting constantly, they all told the story she could see in the man quite plainly. An old kook with nothing left to do in life, EXCEPT be crazy. . . And rude, and vile, and evil, and dirty, and lowly. . . The list could go on forever in her mind, and, in fact, the list could hardly be long enough! She hated him. And that was a fact.
I hope that wasn't too terrible. R&R to tell me what you think!
Many thank you's to the two who reviewed the original chapter. You two boosted my confidence in this story quite a lot. :)
-Alori
