Chapter 5, everybody! Wilson's off to save Willow! With help.
That first sentence is in reference to Lackadaisy Cats, I understand it's getting a full animated series so that's nice. And that word there, ergo—I've known and used that word since 2003, was waiting after one college marketing class to talk to the teacher, said teacher is telling the girl in front of me to try to aim for between a 3rd and 5th grade reading level.
Teacher: "Like this word, ergo." *looks at me* "Do you know what that word means?"
Me: "Therefore, because, and so."
Teacher: "Okay we're not asking you anymore." XD
Also this chapter was written up before the back end of last chapter and in going over it I like the implication that yes, Max had everything handy and just decided to put it all back before going to bed. XD And yes, he's quoting Orlando Bloom in the first movie's bloopers. Also, took me years to realize that Captain Jack used the lobster trap Will stepped in to disable the rudder before climbing up to the ship.
Don't Starve © 2013 Klei Entertainment
Pirates of the Caribbean © 2003 Disney
Waking up was more of a continuum than a binary, a long knock-down drag-out process not made any easier by the pounding in his head. Groan, rub at his face…what—
Willow.
Wilson sat bolt upright—regretted that decision when it made his head pound. Ah, right, had gotten clocked in the head by a pirate just as he spotted Willow being dragged away by pirates—
Willow had been dragged away by pirates.
Scramble upright, ran through the ruined town to the fort—if anyone could rescue her—
The pirates have a hostage—tell them the pirates have a hostage, he reminded himself—burst past the guards, into the alcove Norrington and his men were using as a war room—
"They've taken Miss Willow!" he blurted, skidding to a halt.
"I've already been made aware of the situation," Norrington said, annoyingly calm. Glance to the side to see Wilba wringing her hands, looked back to Norrington, who didn't seem inclined to get moving—
"So send someone after her," Wilson demanded. "They can't have gotten far!"
Norrington gestured broadly at him. "By all means, if you have any clue as to the inner thoughts and reasonings of a pirate, please, share them with the room."
Wilson ground his teeth at that, hating the way his neck pinked—dangit it wasn't like he knew how pirates worked—
"Maxwell Carter."
They all looked sharply at the one guard, who looked like he was dearly regretting piping up. "W-well…he talked about the Shadowchaser."
"Mentioned it, is more like," the one standing next to him said.
Wilson pointed at them, looking at Norrington. "Then ask him—he'll know where they make berth and lead you right to them! They were probably here for him anyways!"
"Firstly, the Shadowcatcher isn't a real ship, it's a fairytale made to frighten superstitious sailors," Norrington started—
"I already told you it was the Shadowcatcher," Wilba interrupted, shaking off the Governor's hand on her arm. "It matches the description."
"Secondly," Norrington said, giving her a warning look. "The pirates who raided here last night left Carter in his cell. Ergo, they are not his allies." Turned to one of his officers to give him orders, telling him to set a guard on the coast—
Wilson slammed his hands on the map, unable to contain himself any longer. "That's not good enough!"
"Mister Higgsbury," Norrington said, glaring at him like he was a small child who just had a tantrum. "You are not a military man, nor are you a sailor. You are a blacksmith. And I highly advise you go back to that job."
Wilson's throat wouldn't support any retort—spun and stalked out, currently hot enough to smelt on—no—no there had to be something he could do—
"Wilson!"
Stop, look back to see Wilba running up to him.
"D'you think you could convince Carter to help?" she asked him, glancing back.
"I don't know," Wilson admitted, thinking of the pirate. "I just—I can't let this happen—I have to get Willow back somehow—"
"Then we're in agreement," Wilba said sternly. "I'll stay here and keep working Norrington over, you go and talk Carter into our corner." Grab his hand, squeeze it. "We're getting her back, Mister Higgsbury."
Blink at her, chest heaving…squeeze her hand back before running off for the cells.
He had a pirate to convince.
"Maxwell Carter."
"Who's asking?" the pirate in question asked, reclining in a far corner—glanced over to see Wilson. "Oh, you. Say pal, you don't look so good."
Wilson wasn't going to address that point, he quite literally had more important things to focus on. "That ship that was here last night—do you know it?"
"Yeah," Maxwell said, scratching his nose and not looking engaged. "What about it?"
"Where does it make berth?"
Okay going to have to remind himself that a head injury could result in irritation and he shouldn't get this hot and bothered over Maxwell spluttering at that question. "Where does it make berth?" Maxwell repeated. "Have you not heard the stories? Ship made of shadows, capable of sinking beneath the waves and resurfacing, finding the spaces between this world and another—anything ringing any bells?"
"No," Wilson said flatly.
"Either I'm losing my touch or Charlie is," Maxwell muttered pensively.
"Look, the ship itself is real enough, so wherever it makes berth must be a real place as well."
"You would think." Sag against the wall, sinking further to the ground. "Charlie and her current band of miscreants most likely are making berth at the Lunar Island—that being an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is."
The captain was a woman? Odd, but not really important, bat his surprise away. "And I don't suppose you know where it is."
"Say pal, what's with the twenty questions?" Maxwell demanded. "What, looking into a career change?"
"If I was, it certainly wouldn't be piracy."
"Oi do I rag on your job?"
"You can't really consider piracy a job—"
"What do you want, pal."
Grumble…finally relent. "They've taken Miss Burnshigh."
Maxwell grinned like the cat that caught the canary. "Oh, so it is that you've found a girl. Well pal, if you've got plans to set off after her, stage a daring rescue and thusly woo fair lady's heart…you're going to have to do it alone—I see no profit in it for me."
"What about a pardon?"
"Are you in a position to give me one?"
No. "Out of the goodness of your heart?" That one got Maxwell laughing harder than he had earlier. Okay, drastic measures. "Your freedom?"
Maxwell sobered, tipped his head. "Really, pal? You're going to basically commit to the pirate life over this girl." Watch Wilson hesitate, nod. "What's your name? Just asking for posterity's sake."
"Wilson. Percival Higgsbury," he added after a bit of hesitation. "Gentleman scientist."
Maxwell arched an eyebrow. "And what brings a gentleman scientist to the Caribbean? Yarns sent home by your dad, maybe?"
"My father wasn't a pirate, if that's what you're insinuating."
"Eh," Maxwell noised, standing and cracking his back. "I mean some people come here because they're sick of gray rainy weather, but I digress. You ever give this girl anything before, or is this whole rescue going to be the big icebreaker?"
"Are you going to help or not?" Wilson demanded.
"I'm debating."
"Well then I'm sorry, but this was a limited-time deal," Wilson said, starting for the exit.
"Oi get back here—so basically you want my assistance in helping you to find this girl, is that the gist of it?"
"Yes, that's the gist of it."
"All right then, fine, you've got yourself a deal," Maxwell said, sticking his hand through the bars. Wilson eyed it warily. "What? Pal, if you make a deal you have to shake on it, didn't your dad ever teach you manners?"
Wilson's father hadn't been around enough to teach him manners, but that wasn't the point—the point was, he wasn't too keen on shaking hands and agreeing to do dealings with a pirate. But the fact remained, Willow was still in danger, no one else was willing to go after her, and the man in front of him was the only one who had even the remotest inkling of how to find her. Grimace, finally shake on it—
Yelp when it felt like something else latched on as well when Maxwell shook his hand, tried and failed to rip his hand away from him.
"Pleasure doing business with you, pal," Maxwell said, grinning before finally letting go.
"I wouldn't call it that," Wilson groused, rubbing his hand. Worry about that later, focus on Willow. "Now we're going to have to move once I do this, someone will no doubt hear it—"
"Any particular reason you're grabbing the bench there, pal?"
Okay the pal business was going to get old real quick. "I helped make these cells—those are half-barrel hinges, with the proper leverage I can get the door open without the keys."
"Clever," Maxwell said, opening the door and stepping out. "Unnecessary, but clever. Get my effects while you're right there, will you?"
Wilson didn't, Wilson was busy gawping. "How did you do that!?"
"I was a magician in a previous life," Maxwell said, striding over and grabbing his belongings. "You kind of learn how to pick locks there, otherwise it makes the escape artist bits a little dicey."
"Do you mean to tell me you could have gotten out at any time!?" Wilson demanded.
"Uh, yeah, kinda," Maxwell said, shrugging his coat on.
"Then why haven't you already?"
"Oi touchy subject isn't it? I didn't have a reason to before now." Doff his hat. "Now are you going to look a gift horse in the mouth or are we leaving?"
"Currently?" Wilson muttered, following behind. "I'm regretting everything leading up to this decision."
"Might want to hold off on that, we've got a lot of questionable decisions lined up."
Considering he had more than a gross of misgivings by the time they reached the docks, Wilson was willing to give him that point.
"Oh come on, think of it as an adventure," Maxwell said finally. "You know, arr swash swash buckle buckle—don't tell me you're the one kid who didn't play pirates when you were little."
"I'm the one kid that didn't play pirates when I was little," Wilson said flatly, causing the pirate to pause.
"Eh, you'd get along well with my brother. Moving on!" Clap, point, causing Wilson to look.
"We're going to steal that ship?" Wilson asked.
"No," Maxwell said, pointing out a different ship. "Commandeer—nautical term—we're going to commandeer that ship."
Wilson considered the ship Maxwell pointed out—the Interceptor, the fastest ship in the Caribbean, which was already being loaded up and crawling with navy men. "How?"
"By employing where prestidigitation coincides with piracy—misdirection."
The first step of this was taking a boat out to the ship. Underwater.
"This is either madness, or brilliance," Wilson had to concede finally, glancing at the dinghy they were using as a diving bell.
"Strange how often those two coincide," Maxwell agreed.
They made it to the ship with the only incident being Wilson stepping in a lobster trap, which Maxwell made use of—crawled up the back of the ship, Wilson's heart pounding as they passed the name stenciled on the back, trying to reconcile his current actions with the end result—doing this for Willow, doing this to rescue Willow, focus on that—
Especially when they reached the top and spied the skeleton crew working the Dauntless.
"Okay, pro tip," Maxwell told him, drawing his weapons. "For once in your life, play pirate."
Wilson grimaced, ran after him as he trotted down the steps, procuring a sword as Maxwell barked "Gentlemen remain calm, we are taking over this operation!" Okay play pirate—
"Aye! Avast!" Wilson barked, pointing his sword at the nearest sailor—which didn't get much more than a round of laughs from everyone.
"We'll work on that," Maxwell muttered.
"This ship can't be crewed by two men," the lead officer said, grinning smugly at them. "You'll never make it out of the bay."
Maxwell laughed like that was funny somehow. "Gents, I'd like to remind you that you're dealing with the amazing Maxwell here." Leveled his gun at the guy's head. "Savvy?"
Norrington regretted many things that week; that his proposal had been tainted by pursuing some lackluster pirate, that the town had been sacked, that his intended beau's maidservant had gotten kidnapped and was most likely dead by now, or that said beau had been kicking up such a fuss.
For the record, they were planning on going after those pirates anyway, they had attacked Port Royal and the king's navy didn't take that lying down. Assuring Wilba of this fact had gotten her off his back, at least, and they had the Interceptor ready to strike out and hopefully chase those pirates down.
It was why this latest wrinkle wasn't appreciated.
"Commodore," his left-tenant said, staring across the harbor and pointing. "Look at this."
He did, pulling out a spyglass and training it on the puzzling sight of navy men rowing across the harbor to them—why they were doing so became clear when their words echoed across the waters.
"The Dauntless! They've taken the Dauntless! Higgsbury and Carter, they've taken the Dauntless!"
Swing the spyglass up to rake across the Dauntless' decks—sighed when he saw Wilson struggling with the lines as Carter apparently directed him. "Brash Higgsbury—too brash." Order them to sail over—they certainly didn't need this right as they were leaving.
"I want this ship searched from top to bottom, stem to stern," he ordered when they reached the ship, leading the boarding party. Navy men swarmed the ship, him standing in the middle of that storm and spoiling for the chance to give one Wilson Percival Higgsbury a piece of his mind—the man had been a troublemaker with his penchant for exploding the smithy, but Norrington had always been under the impression that he at least was trying to be helpful, in his own baffling way. This—this was full-on piracy, pure and simple—
Was suddenly snapped out of his musings by the sounds of the gangplanks falling into the water and the sight of the Interceptor sliding by. "MEN! Back to the Interceptor! NOW!" Ran to the railing—
Just in time for Maxwell Carter to doff his hat and wave at them from the steering wheel.
"Thank you, gentlemen, for getting us ready to make way!" he crowed. "We would have had a hard time of it by ourselves!"
He wasn't sure what was worse: the smug attitude of the pirate, or the determined expression on Higgsbury.
"Men," he snapped, turning from the railing and striding along the deck. "Clean this mess up and get the sails trimmed, prime the cannons—"
"With the wind with them we won't catch them—" his left-tenant started—
"I don't want to catch them—just get them in range of the long nines."
His left-tenant gave him a few moments stewing on the top deck before joining him. "Are we to fire on our own ship?"
"Better at the bottom of the bay than in the hands of a pirate," he spat.
"Sir," the bosun said. "'E's disabled the rudder chain, sir."
Which was when he noted how the ship was angled, heard the captain yell "Abandon ship!"—
Heard the sound of the Dauntless running over one of its lifeboats.
The left-tenant was staring after the Interceptor with baffled awe. "That has got to be the best pirate I've ever seen."
"So it would seem," Norrington ground out.
This just got a lot harder.
