I'm ba-ack – two new chapters to celebrate the end of the holidays - one dark chapter too. Thanks for all your patience and tolerance: and look – over 100 reviews! I seriously never would have thought. I did try to update over the holidays, but when I found a computer with internet, they had all sorts of gadgets connected to the USB port that I wasn't allowed to touch, because I'm a girl and would therefore automatically break everything I came in contact with.
Sorry for any typo's: too eager to post after 3 long weeks away!
So where were we: Jack, with a cannonball hurtling towards him fired by the Drifting Maiden - shame on all who thought I'd kill off the beloved Captain! Not my Jack! Not on my watch!
The crew ducked, winced, shouted in terror and whimpered in fear. Only Will, being the closest, was galvanised to action. Recklessly he threw himself in the cannonball's churning path, knocking Jack over as they both tumbled to the Black Pearl's decks. The snow-white cannon-ball slammed into the ship's wheel behind where Jack had previously stood. As soon as it made contact with the wheel, both it and the ghostly ship disappeared, along with the storm. The pirates blinked in the sudden daylight as the grey storm clouds rolled away in mere seconds. The steady and calm slap-slap-slap could be heard as the aquamarine waves gently lapped the side of the Black Pearl, and the masts all stood straight and tall, all ice melting and pooling at their feet. It was as if the storm had never been, apart from the looks of horror in the crew's eyes, and their bleeding and bruised limbs. The only other remain tribute to the Drifting Maiden's attack was the ship's wheel, which had been turned completely into ice, and now stood as a constant reminder of the ship's curse, gleaming unmelting under the Caribbean sun. Even many years later, the Black Pearl's still retains its ice-carved wheel, unscathed; the perfect ice statue. Another quirk of the Black Pearl; another story to be told in hushed voices around small tables in bars and taverns the world over. Will shuddered to think what would have happened to Jack, had that snow-white cannonball actually hit him.
"Now see what you've done." Jack snapped, looking like he could barely contain himself from shooting Will on the spot. He brushed himself down and stormed mysteriously off back into his cabin, and was not seen again for the entire day. The crew went back to work, uneasily silent as instead of scrubbing decks, they helped injured comrades into the hospital wing. Those more skilled amongst them aided the ship's doctor in administering varying degrees of aid. Alex helped the doctor prepare bandages, boil water and put the talents that all young girls learn to good use, neatly stitching gapping wounds. Will held some of the injured down as the doctor preformed more painful surgery and amputations. After all the injuries had been tended, Alex had sought him out with a bottle of rum in hand. They both collapsed onto the floor, leaning against a scuttlebutt that held the ship's drinking water. Due to the rain, the scuttlebutts were full to capacity, brimming with fresh water, that was to last the entire journey, mixed with rum when it got stale.
"Drink this." She stated forcefully, handing over the scratched bottle of dark rum. Will took a fortifying gulp.
"Good." Alex remarked. "Now, show me that scratch. I know about the one on your wrist, obviously; how about that one on your shoulder. Don't hide it – I can see by the way you're holding yourself that you've done something to hurt it." She snapped as Will opened his mouth to deny it. Admitting defeat, Will pulled back his open collar to reveal the cut.
Alex exhaled a low whistle, "Impressive." She conceded, "You really should get the doctor to take a look at it."
"He's got enough on his plate as it is," Will mumbled, "Other's are injured worse than I. And what about you?" Will hurriedly changed the subject. Something – a rope perhaps, or some splintered wood – had cut down diagonally down her right cheek, from just under her eye to underneath her ear. Will lightly traced a finger over it.
"It's a shallow cut, and you know it, William Turner. Stop changing the subject." Alex replied crossly, colouring in embarrassment and turning her head away.
"Yes, but we don't want to have that face of yours scarred." Will said jokingly, turning her once more to face himself. Their eyes caught, and Will found himself staring into Alex's dark-blue bottomless eyes, a hue that shifted between colours and intensity, like the ocean. Her eyes were like the open sea when the sunlight was shimmering off the waves; bright and dazzling, but at the same time you never knew what was underneath the surface.
Will felt Alex stiffen and pull away. Before he could react, Alex poured half the bottle of rum onto Will's lightly bleeding wound. Will sharply inhaled.
"Why the devil did you do that!" He demanded angrily.
"To stop blood poisoning." Alex replied calmly, taking a large gulp herself, "Seeing as you won't let the doctor see to it." She lurched to her feet and handing the half-full bottle over the Will, she remarked, "Cheers," before she wound her way around the inert bodies of sleeping and wounded men and disappeared. Will watched her disappear with mingled feelings. Obviously something had happened to Alex that she didn't feel like sharing. Swirling the cloudy rum in the bottle, Will contemplated the murky liquid. He'd just have to be patient…
That night, all sat around the big mess-table, stirring their spoons in their stew, cradling their mugs in their scarred hands, but none mentioned how Jack had purposefully put all their lives in danger, chasing a cursed storm and a ghost ship. No-one said any words, but all knew what each other were thinking. Except Will, and maybe Gibbs, who stared into the bottomless-depths of their murky-brown ale, thoughts on the same topic as all others assembled, but yet so far removed from their train of thought. Will knew Jack much better than others; he was not as much awed by Jack as the rest of the crew, but he still retained a healthy respect for his Captain. And as for Gibbs, well, he knew the truth behind all the legends surrounding Jack; he'd been present for the creation of most of them. And the truth behind the myth was often more intriguing than the actual legend itself.
Next update: dark chapter - Jack drowns himself... in memories and emotions that is. hehehe. I keep on telling you, I won't kill him. Yet...
So I saw the next Pirate movie today, finally, as soon as I was back in civilisation. I'm not that impressed really. It didn't have that same feeling as the first – it was…forgettable. Not as funny as the first, or even as the trailers for the second. They reintroduced old characters that frankly, I thought could have stayed dead and buried, and then the directors forced them to act differently. Norrington, for example, gave the impression of an uptight ass at first, but in the end you understood him as a generally good person who thought beyond his own satisfaction and personal gains. In the next movie he's back to being all self-involved again. And they STOLE MY IDEAS. They were so channelling me with Will hanging from the yard-arm and the slashing of the sail and I WAS GOING TO USE THE BLACK SPOT! (Wah, sob). Except I was going to use it the proper way, from Treasure Island, with the Bible and all. Damn it, I still will. Grrrr. Nasty people, plundering my brain, not that I can prove it or anything. The script-writer and I just must think alike, 's all.
I didn't write much more of the story over the holidays; too busy working. But I'm fabricating the bad dude's ship. Let's just say, it can match the Drifting Maiden in the looks department. And evil-ness too. And I came up with some concepts of possibly a sequel, if this ever gets finished. Or I can change it to a short story if I run out of pep. I probably just bored the ever-loving hell out of you all, but just thought I'd keep you up-to-date.