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He was tall, yet not slight but muscular, thanks to all the demanding labors needed to captain a pirate ship, with rather long, dark brown, dread-locked hair that held a number of intriguing trinkets and was pulled back in a faded red bandana, skin that had once been fair but now permanently tanned by the Caribbean sun, and deep, coal-rimmed, chocolate brown eyes. He was Jack Sparrow, or should we say Captain Jack Sparrow as he insisted people call him. And while our English duchess was miserably huddled in the brig of some hapless pirate ship, he was contentedly running his hands over the worn midnight black helm of his beloved Black Pearl drinking his other love: spiced rum.
The day was perfect, he noted. The sky was a clear, fair blue and the sea blue-green, topped with an occasional white cap. The ocean stretched on as far as the horizon, without a single blemish to distort it’s glassy surface. He took a deep breath and savored the salty texture. This is what he lived for. Simple freedom. To do what he pleased without inquiry or question.
He was pulled from his thoughts when an annoying black speck made its appearance to disturb the constant line on the horizon. He peered closer, wondering why his lookout hadn’t made some exclamation of it yet. Setting his precious rum on the deck, he swaggered over to the main mast and glanced up. Must have dozed off, the lazy git. He shook his head wonderingly. It may have been awhile since the Pearl had been challenged, but this was unacceptable. No one could get too confident, for with too much confidence came carelessness. After all, that was how he had lost the Pearl the first time.
Thinking about laziness.... He swayed over to the large opening in the deck that led down to the cargo hold where most of the crew were taking an ‘afternoon nap’ as they put it. He crept down the well used stairs, quiet as a cat stalking an ignorant mouse, so that he faced the mixture of cots and hammocks that contained his napping crew. The wide assortment of snores and wheezes almost drowned out the sound of the ocean. Jack smirked. They all looked so innocent when they were sleeping. He carefully bent over the ear of an unknowing sailor. “ALL HANDS ON DECK YOU LAZY DOGS!” He bellowed. The poor crewman jerked up abruptly as if he had been shot, only to fall in an untidy heap on the solid, unforgiving floor. The rest of the crew, startled into thinking that they were being attacked, clumsily followed suit. Some falling to land hard on the wooden floor, as did the first sailor, and others injuring themselves in the process of attempting to hastily grab their weapons while still partially asleep.
By the time the general part of the noise had died down and the crew had realized that they were, in fact, not under attack, the lookout decided that it was a fair time to awaken. Jack, who felt enormously satisfied with the results of his wake up call, had sauntered back up on deck and was now looking through his spyglass at the approaching ship. It was still a good ways off, for it was indeed not a very fast ship, and this was good for it meant that the Pearl had an immense advantage. The groggy crew had finally managed to untangle themselves from both their bedcovers and each other and come blinking into the sunlight of the deck when the lookout finally noticed that same little annoying dot on the horizon.
“Ship off the starboard bow!” Cried the lookout in a rather surprised, cracked voice. Jack shook his head and muttered “ ‘bout time.”
“Captain, what colors she be flying?” Asked Gibbs who had immediately shed all signs of drowsiness at the mention of ‘ship’ and had come from behind.
“She be flying The colors, Mr.Gibbs,” he replied.
“The colors, Captain? You mean to say she’s pirate?”
“Mr. Gibbs,” sighed Jack in a rather exasperated tone, “what do you purpose I mean when I say The colors, other than what The colors would obviously imply, which would most likely be the very intent of the said vessel for flying The colors in the first place?”
Gibbs paused for a second, contemplating. Then abruptly regaining his composure to conclude “Aye, a pirate ship then. What be your command of action?”
Normally, Jack would ignore any pirates who happened to stray into his territory or, if he was feeling rather ambitious, give a little pursuit to remind them who was really the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main. And not just the Spanish Main, luv, but the entire ocean, the entire wor’ld. He remembered memories of long ago but quickly pushed them away and returned to his present situation. Today it was different. Today he felt a sort of tugging sensation to follow this particular ship and take her. He couldn’t really put a finger on this feeling and so simply passed it off as a mere itch to rub off the boredom since they had not taken a ship in quite a long while indeed.
Must just be anxious to remind the world that Captain Jack Sparrow is still out there, striking fear into the hearts of innocents, he smirked at his own assured reasoning and forced the curious feeling to the back of his mind.
“My command of action, Mr. Gibbs? My command of action would be...” He broke off abruptly. That queer feeling had risen again and, try as he might, he simply couldn’t be rid of it.
“Captain?”
“Mr. Gibbs...” Jack started uncertainly. “Do you suppose that the crew is prepared for a bit of...practice?”
“Practice?” Asked Gibbs. Then, at another exasperated look from Jack, quickly re-gathered himself and assured “Aye, Captain.”
“Good. The crew has been getting careless lately. Just this afternoon I found that my lookout had dozed off. My lookout, Mr. Gibbs. It’s about time we remind them what being a pirate is all about.” Jack was proud of his reasoning. It made perfect sense. And it had detached that unnerving feeling as well, much to his relief.
Gibbs smiled in expectation. “Man the guns, Captain?”
Jack smiled his signature smile with gold teeth flashing in the sunlight. It was too late to turn back now. “Man the guns.”
“MAN THE GUNS AND HOIST THE SAILS YOU NINNIES!” Ana Maria, who had managed to come up out of nowhere and hear the outcome of their little discussion , cried, relaying her captain’s orders to the rest of the crew.
It was as if a gun had been shot off for the second time that day. The crew leapt into action. Some ran back down into the hold to prepare the cannons, others scurried up the masts to tighten the sails, while the rest ran to the other numerous ropes and pulleys needed to coax any excess wind they could manage to trap to further quicken their speed.
Once again, with gold teeth flashing, Jack smiled, satisfied with the new life that had been put into his crew. If he had known that the prospect of hunting down another ship, taking her and all her valuables while possibly having to fight for ones own life in the process was just the thing to wake them up, he would have tracked down another ship months ago rather than wait for one to stumble across his path now. Nevertheless...
He returned to the helm, savoring the feel of the worn wood beneath his fingers. He had gone without that marvelous sensation for so long that he was still in a bit of wonder that it was finally his again. Gently pulling himself out of yet another self-contemplation, he lightly turned the wheel so that it was in a more favorable direction towards the retreating ship. He figured this would be a standard attack-and-loot. Since the whole curse incident, immense attention had been drawn to the now infamous Black Pearl and whenever they happened to encounter another ship, pirate or not, they were usually able to take it, should they wish it, without a struggle, for various reasons or another. And this should be no different.
By this time they were in firing range, for despite the other ships attempt to turn tail, the Pearl was able to catch up far too easily. This is almost rather pathetic, Jack thought with a sigh. If only we could receive a bit more of a challenge for once...but then again I suppose this is better than trying to hunt down cursed pirates.
Jack ordered for their own colors to be hoisted and to fire two warning shots to allow the other ship to surrender without unnecessary bloodshed. Both cannons went off with a healthy sounding blast. One ball landed a little off the port side of the offending ship while the other followed close behind. He was actually rather surprised when the other ship offered no acknowledgment that they had been offered a way out at all. Instead he could faintly see them already preparing their own sources of weapons. He held his hand up to halt his crew from preparing another cannon to handicap the other ship. Perhaps this will be interesting after all.
“Avoid unnecessarily harming the ship and/or any of its occupants unless specifically challenged and/or fearing for ones own life, and even then do your best to show as much mercy as a bloodthirsty pirate can spare, savvy?”
The crew, used to Jack’s strange way of giving instructions, nodded their heads knowing that, no matter how strange the actual directions were, they were made for some good reason or another. And so they did not challenge nor question those directions, but simply listened to their captain and prepared to board the ever nearing vessel.
That curious feeling had risen again but this time, no matter how hard he struggled to shove it back into his dark, well-trained, controlled mind, he only succeeded in distorting it into a still-ever-present pulse. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t have the chance to find it out if the ship that held it (or even if it was the ship itself) was blown to bits and everyone on board was killed. And there was no doubt that the ship was the source, for it seemed that the closer they neared the opposite ship the more pronounced the feeling became. It was no longer a curious itch. He had never felt anything like this before. It was an acute need, an intense demand. He felt that he just must find it, even (as he tried to convince himself) if it was just for the mere sake of curiosity.
Ignoring it as best he could, he handed the wheel off to Cotton to complete pulling alongside the other ship, and prepared himself to board. While making sure that his assortment of pistols were all loaded and ready, he watched as his ship pulled up and paralleled the other, wondering slightly why the other crew hadn’t yet fired shot at them. His mental question was silenced when a bullet whizzed past his right ear. Looking indignant at the mere idea that his poor hat had nearly come to harm, (with no thought to his head of course) he motioned for his crew to commence.
They responded eagerly with grappling hooks and other various objects used to board vessels who were especially unhelpful towards unwanted guests. The other crew took fire but failed to hit not one of the Pearl’s crew. Jack joined in on boarding and soon found himself on the deck of the neglected Wanderer, as it was apparently called, although the actual name on the hull of the ship was quite hard to make out since much of the paint had either been scratched off or worn by the sea and no one had bothered to repaint it.
Keeping his observations to himself he soon found his person challenged by a youth of seventeen or so. And an inexperienced one at that, he noted. The kid swung his sword madly about like a club with both hands trying to take Jack’s head off with it, he gathered. Jack avoided killing if it was at all possible. He found it much more to his advantage to either talk his way out of predicaments or to simply disable them from further causing an inconvenience to his person. And so he quickly disarmed his ardent opponent and clubbed him over the head with the butt of his sword into unconsciousness, then turned to face a more challenging adversary.
A burly man, who had apparently never heard of such a thing as personal hygiene, swung at him. This man was a bit more difficult to throw off balance. He wasn’t exceptionally quick or skilled with his sword, but his strength made up for that sufficiently. Despite that, Jack’s skill still won over brute strength and he soon had the man also disarmed and knocked to the deck unconscious next to the boy.
He was just about to search out his next opponent from the chaotic mass of mixed crews when a sound resembling a ball of thunder went off and the ship underneath him shook dangerously. Swearing a number of unintelligible oaths and barely restraining raw fury he called, without a hint of his usual slurred accent, to Gibbs, who had stayed on the Pearl, to search out who was foolhardy enough to fire that cannon and to lock him in the brig when that said person was found.
Stupid. Unbelievably stupid. I’m going to flog that whelp personally as soon as we finish here. Firing a cannon at a ship this close when your own Captain is on that said ship! The very minute surrender is called I am going straight to the hold...and he went on and on about that for a good length, each time saying something different but which ultimately meant more or less the same in the end, until he was distracted by something much more attention consuming.
His entire body was racked with need. A pure, absolute need to find whatever had drawn him there in the first place. He remembered the cannon ball. It had gone through the hold. The hold. Obviously. Whatever it was it must be in the hold of the ship. It made perfect sense, but....if that cannon ball has done any damage what-so-ever....he couldn’t imagine what he would do but he did know that whatever it was it certainly was not going to be pleasant for the one receiving.
He quickly made his way through the now-renewed fight to a door that he strongly suspected to be the entrance to the hold. By the time he was reaching for the handle to yank it open, the feeling was so strong that he was starting to doubt if he was going to be able to hold up any longer against it. But when the point reached when he thought that he was to break, the door opened without his own persuasion and something, or should we say someone, ran squarely into his chest.
The feeling and all thought of it vanished immediately as soon as he peered down into unblinking green eyes. They held his with a might of their own, revealing a stubbornness and a quality the like that he had never seen. It was amazing how much he learned from those eyes in the few brief seconds he had. They captured his, almost challenging. He felt the urge to smirk, to challenge those eyes in return. An urge that he gave in to gladly.