Pairing: Jack and my OC, Isabella.
Word Count: 700
Prompt: Racket
Momentary Bliss
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"S'what are ya tryin' to imply?" inquired Ragetti, crossing his arms upon his chest.
"I'm implyin' that yer a slimy, good-for-nothing, ingrate! Can ya hear me loud an' clear? Or, do ya need wooden ears as well?" Pintel shouted at his slender companion, who was now only inches away from his nose as they glared ferociously at one another.
Jack and Isabella weren't exactly sure what ignited the violent uproar but they surely weren't going to get involved.
"So, you're telling me that you enjoy listening to this insatiable racket for hours on end?" Jack inquired, curling his lip at the scene. His rich, brown eyes now fixated on the two squabbling pirates before him.
She didn't answer as quickly as he hoped, rather she internalized a small belch, holding a hand over her mouth as she felt the slimy acid from her stomach eat away at the back of her throat.
She handed him a large mug of rum as a response. "They're not always like this – besides I've noticed that the more you have of this, my friend, the more amusing it eventually becomes," she affirmed, appearing to be a bit too sloshed for her mind's liking and her speech solidified that very notion.
She didn't have to ask him twice, he raised his hand to the rim of the brown mug, delicately removing it from her grasp with a tug from the tips of his fingers. He'd seen many women drink themselves to oblivion, but she surely didn't seem like the type.
"And yourself?" he inquired, leaning over to her. He was close enough for her to feel his warm breath graze the edges of her skin.
"I think I've had enough," she slurred rather bluntly, trying to extend one of her legs off the barrel she rested on. "I'm starting to see in pairs of four and they all seem to be having a congregation of their own," she stated, attempting to adjust her posture.
Jack cringed, shrugging his shoulders as he stuck out his tongue out between his teeth, letting out a small sound of disgust at the thought of another pair of the two misfits.
As the Hellride rocked away in the darkness of night, Jack found himself amidst two bumbling pirates and one very inebriated warrior. She steadied herself on a barrel as she stood, swaying from a lethal combination of too much rum and the inability to acquire a proper set of sea legs.
He stood by her side, slithering a caring arm around her waist, placing her arm square upon his shoulders. "Hold on there, darling," he gently whispered in her ear, assisting her up the wobbly flight of stairs, leading to the Hellride's mahogany deck.
"A bit of air will do you some good," he confirmed, setting her down within a large coil of rope.
He removed his frock coat, draping it over her shivering body. "Suit your fancy?" he inquired, kneeling down to her side.
"You suit my fancy," she spat, rather incoherently amidst a sea of giggles. She held her hand up to her mouth, realizing what she had just uttered.
He raised his brow at her, finding a small smirk emerging upon his lips. "Is that so?"
She covered her face with his coat, attempting to hide beneath it in the hopes that it would mask her from his presence. The rancid odor of old sweat and sea salt carefully weaved itself in and out of its sullied woolen threads. She invited the distinct smell into her lungs with deep breaths of longing; the stench didn't faze her. Rather, it calmed her enough to enable her to close her eyes and fall into a profound slumber.
Jack narrowed his brow. "Oi!" he exclaimed, poking her petite frame from above his coat. Lifting one of the edges of his sleeve, he peered down at the slumbering woman beneath it, only to discover that her eyes were gently closed, accompanying comfortably long and shallow breaths.
He nodded his head and sighed. "Bloody woman … I don't smell that bad!" he finally exclaimed, cursing beneath his breath as he shot an arm up into the air to smell himself.
He grimaced, smelling beneath his other arm as well. "Hmph," he uttered, returning to his cabin in defeat.