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dwgmYay! I finally completed this (my pirate!Muse has been very uncooperative of late), and it works for 'hammock', 'antipathy', and the current prompt, 'captain'. Many thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
florencia7 for the virtual gift of a bronze pencil -- my dear, I think it worked!
*waves to all piratey friends*
~ A Bad Morning ~
The over-vehement roar - SHOW A LEG, SAILOR! - and the sensation of being tossed from dreams, rest, and hammock were so bone-deep familiar that Jack, thudding catlike to the deck, startled but unharmed, yelped, “Aye, sir!” before remembering who he was, as well as when (more or less) and uttered in stunned query, “What?”
Where was a different matter, however.
“There’s been a horrible mistake, I’m not supposed to be here,” he protested as he was hustled from the cool shadows of the gun deck into the glaring sun.
Topside there were all manner of disturbing sights (a glass coffin? And what was that gent doing tied halfway up the foremast?) and sounds (the hideously rhythmic hiss/slap of the cat and attendant half-stifled wails, not quite drowned by a din of holystones).
A swab was thrust into his unwilling hands. He blurted, "Where am I?”
His tormentor chuckled. “Allow me to welcome you aboard our world-renowned vessel of infamy - Queen Anne's Revenge.”
The identity of his probable host drew a gasp. “Blackbeard.” Not good.
But there was worse. Zombies. The smell of an ill-kempt crew five days from land. Angelica.
“Steady as she goes!”
Jack set his teeth at the sound of that all-too-familiar voice, consternation giving way to a rising, righteous anger. Captain Jack Sparrow, shanghaied for purposes as yet to be revealed by a chit he’d thought himself shut of years ago!
And she bloody knew he was not a morning person.
~.~
florencia7 for the virtual gift of a bronze pencil -- my dear, I think it worked!*waves to all piratey friends*
~ A Bad Morning ~
The over-vehement roar - SHOW A LEG, SAILOR! - and the sensation of being tossed from dreams, rest, and hammock were so bone-deep familiar that Jack, thudding catlike to the deck, startled but unharmed, yelped, “Aye, sir!” before remembering who he was, as well as when (more or less) and uttered in stunned query, “What?”
Where was a different matter, however.
“There’s been a horrible mistake, I’m not supposed to be here,” he protested as he was hustled from the cool shadows of the gun deck into the glaring sun.
Topside there were all manner of disturbing sights (a glass coffin? And what was that gent doing tied halfway up the foremast?) and sounds (the hideously rhythmic hiss/slap of the cat and attendant half-stifled wails, not quite drowned by a din of holystones).
A swab was thrust into his unwilling hands. He blurted, "Where am I?”
His tormentor chuckled. “Allow me to welcome you aboard our world-renowned vessel of infamy - Queen Anne's Revenge.”
The identity of his probable host drew a gasp. “Blackbeard.” Not good.
But there was worse. Zombies. The smell of an ill-kempt crew five days from land. Angelica.
“Steady as she goes!”
Jack set his teeth at the sound of that all-too-familiar voice, consternation giving way to a rising, righteous anger. Captain Jack Sparrow, shanghaied for purposes as yet to be revealed by a chit he’d thought himself shut of years ago!
And she bloody knew he was not a morning person.
~.~
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no subject
Date: 2012-09-28 08:30 am (UTC)I expect so, though Jack is pretty adaptable. Still, that "Aye, sir!" and the confused, "What?" after he falls out of his hammock is one of my fave moments in OST. He wasn't always Captain Jack Sparrow.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-28 02:26 pm (UTC)Indeed. The scriptwriters obviously put some thought into that bit.