AN: Well, what can I say to explain myself? In my last A/N I made some crack about maybe updating within a year…and I can't even accomplish that! Wow.
Can I just say that this story is the longest-running story I have ever written? I started it when I was (I think) a freshman or sophomore in high school. Now, I'm almost done with my freshman year of college, and I'll still randomly get some reviews trickling into my inbox. Thanks so much to everyone who still stumbles across this and reviews. You are quite honestly the only reason I didn't stop writing this back in the first chapter. Now, if only I could bring myself to write more often…
This is why I could probably never be a real author.
Enough of my self-involved babble. I'm pleased to bring to you another exciting installment of Mary Sue Pirates Beware!
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Erica paced up and down the deck restlessly. She looked out over the ocean, wondering several things to herself.
Would she ever get off of the Black Pearl? Would she ever figure out what to do with herself in this world that she was flung into? Would her heart –
Erica's musings where rudely interrupted when she had to dive behind some crates. Certain instincts of hers had sharpened to a knifepoint since being dumped onto the Pearl. Among them was her hearing. She could hear the disapproving footsteps of sailors from a mile away.
Being thrown into water that looked like shit and smelled even worse was a really strong negative reinforcement for honing that skill.
It had been a whopping week and a half since she had come to on the deck of the Pearl, and already she had the hearing of a dog and the paranoia of a Roman senator.
Mr. Cotton and his parrot wandered by, in the midst of doing what Erica assumed to be nautical chores. She watched him from between a crack in the crates.
Hmm, what was a determined but displaced girl to do? Erica wondered idly if Jack would accept having her work as a personal servant. At least it would give her something to do. And then maybe the Pearl would be attacked by other pirates and Erica could save Jack's life. Awesome!
Old ways of thinking die hard, especially those of the fangirl variety.
I wonder what the rest of the OCs are up to, Erica mused, while boredly watching Mr. Cotton. It was a sunny day, and the ropes that she was lying on were surprisingly comfortable. She was lulled by the smell of the warm hemp and the creak of the rocking ship. Wonder if they're…causing trouble…
Her thoughts drifted like bubbles and gently popped. Before long she was asleep.
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"Mr. Cotton!" Jack roared from on top of the captain's roof. The old man slowly turned to look at him.
Jack smiled. "Good job with tying those jibs!" he yelled. He waved approvingly. Mr. Cotton went back to what he was doing without replying.
It never hurt to boost the old morale.
Jack was sitting cross-legged on top of the flat roof. Spread out in front of him was a map. He could have just as easily have plotted indoors, but it was so wonderfully nice out. Sometimes you just can't say no to a gentle breeze.
He studied the map, and the position of the little bead that he had designated to be the Black Pearl. They were right on course.
I wonder if Barbarossa ever did this, Jack thought randomly. The idea of Barbarossa splayed out comfortably on the roof, soaking up sunshine, was strange to thing about. What a nice day it is.
His eyebrows suddenly furrowed, and a moment of anxiety passed over him. My thoughts seem a little simplistic, he thought. They seem a little too hugs-and-sunshine. It was frustrating.
I hate everything about mysterious women and I am not a complicated but delicate machine that needs mending, Jack thought to himself cautiously. Nothing happened. Water lapped gently on the sides of the ship.
Everything seemed to be alright. Maybe it was just a beautiful day. Jack relaxed a little more.
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Ana half-dozed in the crow's nest, but still had one eye on the horizon.
What a ridiculously beautiful day.
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AN: I was just really feeling chill today. Hope this counts as some sort of update.