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hereswith for the beta read, here are exactly 200 words for the current drabble challenge at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
blackpearlsails.
~ Resurrection ~
The small eyes narrowed and lost focus on the here and now; the monstrous head tilted back, emanating power.
Jack looked to the sea and it seemed to simmer, then boil, and then, to his horror and wonder the tip of her mainmast appeared and climbed, then dripping spars and shredded sails; more spars as her foremast ascended, higher, higher; then her ornate taffrail, her bowsprit, and finally the deck, and then her whole hull, rising up, water gushing from her ports and scuppers.
And she was black. Every inch of her.
Jack’s heart bled the same color she’d once been, that rich, shining red, her gingerbread trim picked out in gold leaf. Gone. All gone. Red like the flames that had consumed and charred her old life, and his own, too. He felt a stinging behind his eyes for their lost innocence, and as he shifted uncomfortably, the pain of the half-healed cuts on his back reemphasized Beckett’s perfidy.
“Thirteen years, Sparrow,” said Jones, gloating. “You’ve thirteen years to sail your Wicked Wench. No more.”
But… “Not the Wench,” Jack said, his voice low but steady, to his relief. “She’s my pearl of great price, now.
My Black Pearl.”
~.~
hereswith for the beta read, here are exactly 200 words for the current drabble challenge at blackpearlsails.~ Resurrection ~
The small eyes narrowed and lost focus on the here and now; the monstrous head tilted back, emanating power.
Jack looked to the sea and it seemed to simmer, then boil, and then, to his horror and wonder the tip of her mainmast appeared and climbed, then dripping spars and shredded sails; more spars as her foremast ascended, higher, higher; then her ornate taffrail, her bowsprit, and finally the deck, and then her whole hull, rising up, water gushing from her ports and scuppers.
And she was black. Every inch of her.
Jack’s heart bled the same color she’d once been, that rich, shining red, her gingerbread trim picked out in gold leaf. Gone. All gone. Red like the flames that had consumed and charred her old life, and his own, too. He felt a stinging behind his eyes for their lost innocence, and as he shifted uncomfortably, the pain of the half-healed cuts on his back reemphasized Beckett’s perfidy.
“Thirteen years, Sparrow,” said Jones, gloating. “You’ve thirteen years to sail your Wicked Wench. No more.”
But… “Not the Wench,” Jack said, his voice low but steady, to his relief. “She’s my pearl of great price, now.
My Black Pearl.”
~.~
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Date: 2010-07-29 10:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-29 11:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-30 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-30 01:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-30 06:06 pm (UTC)There just might be a flashback like that in PotC4. We can hope!
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Date: 2010-07-30 02:44 am (UTC)I'll bet Jack felt just like this, when he first saw what Beckett had done to his beautiful ship.
And yes, I've always assumed that's the scripture which inspired her new name.
Well writ!
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Date: 2010-07-30 04:34 am (UTC)Thank you for reading and commenting, I'm glad you liked this!
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Date: 2010-07-30 06:03 pm (UTC)I'd heard it was the pre-burning Wicked Wench, but that's an unconfirmed rumor.
I guess we'll find out next May.
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Date: 2010-07-30 04:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-30 01:39 pm (UTC)*Hugs*
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Date: 2010-07-30 09:12 am (UTC)"Jack’s heart bled the same color she’d once been, that rich, shining red, her gingerbread trim picked out in gold leaf. Gone. All gone." Gosh and golly--it did indeed, he loved her so that he would do anything==paid soul much.
"his voice low but steady, to his relief. “She’s my pearl of great price, now." Wow! Just farout! I'm so tickled about your double drabble cos it's about that pair so near and dear to this girl's heart! Gosh, he was just about overcome from the possibilities that she was really his again. You've also planted this adorable little slideshow in my peabrain, watching Jack see his miracle unfolding.
You've made a very fine story and a joyous piratista. Wow! Just smooth lovin' WOW. And it's okay about making me cry...I think it's just becos I'm tender-hearted.
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Date: 2010-07-30 01:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-30 04:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-31 03:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-30 04:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-31 03:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-30 08:51 pm (UTC)Jack’s heart bled the same color she’d once been, that rich, shining red, her gingerbread trim picked out in gold leaf. Gone. All gone. Red like the flames that had consumed and charred her old life, and his own, too. He felt a stinging behind his eyes for their lost innocence, and as he shifted uncomfortably, the pain of the half-healed cuts on his back reemphasized Beckett’s perfidy.
An achingly lovely and moving passage. Poor Jack. I'd wager the only thing that would bring him close to tears is witnessing the destruction and the resurrection of his beautiful ship (though I'm sure Jack must be thinking in terms of comparative innocence here--the shift from honest and trusting merchant sailor and his respectable ship, to "pirate" forced upon them both--for I seriously doubt Jack was, in truth, all that innocent by the time he captained his first ship). ;-)
Such depth and emotion in only 200 words. Superb work, one of your all-time best drabbles (IMHO)!
-- Cat
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Date: 2010-07-31 04:06 pm (UTC)He is such a natural optimist that I'm sure he thought nothing really horrid would happen. Fortunately Beckett couldn't destroy his spirit.
I'm very glad you liked this so much! Of all the black things in PotC, the Black Pearl has to be at the top of the list. Thank you, as always, for your thoughtful, detailed, and much appreciated comments!
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Date: 2010-07-30 10:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-31 03:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-31 10:50 pm (UTC)Jack is nursing his own painful wounds as well as those of his ship and innocence is relative. But one thing you make abundantly clear, Jack made his bargain with Jones eyes open and with not a little darkness in his soul so that the 13 years seemed worth it. If he wasn't a pirate before, he and the Wench were both reborn in a "blackness", a darker future than he'd ever contemplated. A subtle multi-layering of the meanings for the prompt word.
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Date: 2010-08-03 05:05 am (UTC)Very true, and thirteen years sounds like a long time when you're young. He and the Pearl, burned but not broken. I'm so glad you liked this -- thank you for your thoughtful comments!
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Date: 2010-08-03 04:31 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-09-12 07:42 pm (UTC)