The Gecko Wall

(open TF2 oc rp) In the dark of night...

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 22:31:05 GMT

Taking advantage of two days worth of free time, the BLU Sniper known as Drake Agnew and the grey coated BLU Medic, Ulrich Fuchs, where out in the middle of the woods camping. The big Aborigine making sure that their little camp was not to far away, having set up within re-spawn range, but well away from civilization and 'most' of the other human members in the employ of BLU. Both men where armed with their usual weapons and their little camp consisted of a fire, one large sleeping bag, Drake having somehow 'forgotten' Ulrich's, which meant that they'd have to share and a few supplies.
Ulrich was not a big fan of the outdoors, never had been, but had willingly come along without complaint because he knew how much Drake loved being outdoors. Said Sniper having disappeared earlier into the darkness to find them dinner with the promise he wouldn't be long, leaving the German safely back at camp. Sitting quietly near the small fire that painted his pale features orange and red as he read a thick medical journal, occasionally stopping to tend the flames and look around at the dark forrest, listening to the sounds of the wilderness.
Closing it with a soft thump, Ulrich finally set his book aside before leaning back, looking up and contemplating the stars above, Drake having made sure they had a wonderful view of the starry night sky, a sickle moon bathing the nighttime world below in soft blue. As a small smile tugged at Ulrich's thin lips, he still didn't like camping, but he couldn't deny that this was romantic; now if only his lover was here to enjoy it with him...
A soft rustle amongst the trees and the sudden feeling of being watched however made Ulrich pause, snaping him out of his musings before sitting up and scanning the woods. His instincts telling him someone was out there.... Somehow knowing that it wasn't Drake. Another rustle nearby made his head snap to the sound, his face in it's usual blank expression as he elegantly stood up, even as his heart sped up in his chest, dark eyes sharp and searching. An animal? A fellow BLU out in the woods? A stalking RED perhaps? A Marked One...? Either way he couldn't see past the meager light of the campfire, as who or what ever it was watching him was sure to do so just beyond the reach of the firelight.
"Who iz zhere...?" He asked aloud, dark eyes scanning the darkness.

Ok, this is a really crappy "attempted" Holloween-type RP start, this is open to any character, nice or bad!

I'm back!

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 22:57:00 GMT

After many weeks of screaming swearing and pulling my hair out (I'm almost bald now!), after a bad computer crash. I'm officially up and running again!

Now I'm playing catch-up and finnaly posting the next part of "Pearls in the Deep", as well as reposting the now betaed part 1 of said fic.

*lets out a happy squeal* And I can't believe it. While I was gone there was a giant ejaculation of Meckett fics! Yay! *scuttles away to read said fics*

Some Beckett and Mercer fanart...

Fri, 28 Sep 2007 03:53:24 GMT

Mercer = Xigbar... ?

Fri, 21 Sep 2007 00:36:57 GMT

I've got a friend who's big into a game called 'Kingdom Hearts' and yesterday she saw me looking at some pics of Cutler Beckett from PotC, when she pointed to Mercer and chirped, "Hey! Its Xigbar!"

Needless to say I had absolutely no idea of what she was talking about, "No. That's Mercer. Beckett's kick-ass assassin/clerk/boytoy."

But she was insistent "Its Xigbar!" and proceeded to show me a bunch of pics of this "Xigbar". I've never played Kingdom Hearts II (though I see a ton of commercials, fics and fanart for it everywhere), and so am unfamiliar with the overall story line and characters. But I can't deny some of the similarities...
http://www.khinsider.com/info/xigbar.jpg
http://us.i1.yimg.com/img.movies.yahoo.com/ymv/us/img/flickr/66/09/000503676609.jpg
http://psycrowe.deviantart.com/art/Oekaki-Xigbar-30386561
http://img341.imageshack.us/img341/6554/p2c03177rgb3xcvz9.jpg
http://mayabrisa.deviantart.com/art/Xigbar-commission-57193195

Their both probably about the same height, similar builds, their both covered in scars, have long dark hair slicked back in a low ponytail and like to wear dark cloths. And most importantly their both, i.e. the Pirate movies and the game, are both tied to Disney and the game even goes into the PotC universe. She hypothesized that maybe this Xigbar was actually Mercer in his previous life before he became heartless (whatever the heck that means) and part of the Organization XIII. He even has an eye patch over the same eye that Davy Jones popped one of his tentacles out of Mercer's head. She says that this Xigbar's character in the game is totally different from Mercer's far more quite and serious personality, but maybe that was caused by having Davy 's tentacles worming through his head and scrambling his brain. Perhaps he was changed somehow from his time in the Locker, and somehow got pointed ears, powers and his eye color changed. *shrugs*
I'm still not sure about it... But it's fun to think about non the less ~_^.

Fic: "Pearls in the Deep" (part. 1b)

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 19:02:39 GMT

Title: Pearls in the Deep

Rating: PG-13, so far
Pairing: Slash, Sparrington, Gillette/Groves
Disclaimer: Disney owns most of these characters (with the exception of a few of my own OC) and the setting in which they live.

Notes: I’ve been into PotC fandom since the first movie came out, but this is my first PotC fic and is a AU since this takes place after CotBP but ignores the DMC (even though I liked the movie and have a few of the characters from it show up). Forgive any horrible historical inaccuracies, I’m just doing this for entertainment.

I must confess that this fic was inspired by Oasis_herself’s wonderful “A Fish Tail” fic (hope you don’t mind?), and reading Hellboy graphic novels before bedtime ~_^.

Now beta-read and edited by the lovely and talented Rennie (aka Rennie1265), I bow down to her vast knowledge and wonderful nit-picking. I love you! And shout out to Miss April Grant who originally betaed the first third of this chapter.

<lj-cut lj-cut>

It was later that same day, towards sunset, that Norrington sat at the heavy map table by the windows in the main cabin, charting their course on a large intricate map, his cravat loosed and his tricorn acting as an improvised paper weight as he marked their progress. The sunlight from the windows still provided enough light as he made several notes in the thick log book. He paused when his protractor skipped over a hole in a section of the map, taking a moment to glare crossly at the damage young Mister Turner's ax had done to it earlier after Miss Swann's fateful abduction from Port Royal.

With a sigh, he absentmindedly ran the soft tip of his quill along his bottom lip, momentarily allowing himself to become lost in memory- that day seemed so long ago- and yet it felt as if it had happened but yesterday. The events from that fateful adventure having cost him dearly, yet had gained something far more precious then what he had lost. He rolled his shoulders as he sat there watching the light from the windows slowly pass across the large intricate map before him, the new material of his coat still a bit too stiff for his liking. His favored and well worn uniform coat had mysteriously disappeared a month back, forcing him to buy a new one, much to his irritation. He still could not understand what had happened to it for he was sure that he had not misplaced it; the last place he remembered seeing it was hanging on the back of a chair in his bedroom, after one of Jack’s visits…

He looked up at a sharp knock on the cabin doors before his Bosun appeared in the doorway. A robust man with graying beard, nodded respectfully, standing about the same height as Norrington, though of broader build. The man was good at what he did; having joined the Navy as an enlisted man, he had steadily climbed the ranks. What made Gabrielle O' Dayle and his status stand out, apart from his exemplary service, was that he was black and from one of the few free families in England. His grand father was an eccentric Earl that had set free and married his grandmother, which was where Gabrielle got his name and the family their lands, second son of four siblings.

“Sir?”

"What can I do for Mister O' Dayle?" James asked, taking a moment to study his Bosun.

"Sir, the watch has spotted a plume of smoke off our starboard bow," The man said in a deep voice.

"More Whalers?" He asked with a frown, sitting up straighter.

"No, sir. I don't think so, but ya best have a look," the Bosun shook his head, his grey eyes sharp.

"Thank you, Mister O' Dayle, I'll be right out," he said while getting up. The Bosun nodding before closing the door behind him.

He had grabbed his hat and was crossing the floor when the far door to the right of the room that lead to his Lieutenants’ shared quarters opened. Gillette and Groves came out; the latter hurriedly fixing his wig and shrugging into his coat, his hat held in his teeth with a noticeable flush still on his features. While Gillette, as always, managed to look perfectly groomed, not a hair out of place, it did not take a genius to know what the two had been up to.

James considered both men his closest friends and had known of their feelings for one another since he was a first Lieutenant and did not care what they did behind closed doors, so long as they were discrete and did not keep him up at night. He was no fool though and knew most of society would label them sinful and even attempt to imprison or hang both men for what they did. James possibly would be strung up along side them for knowingly allowing it, especially if it became known he was also a sodimite having secret relations with a known criminal and pirate. Luckily, even though they had rules, the Navy tended to turn a blind eye to most things that happened below decks at sea, just so long as one was not obvious about it, and never on land (at least not at an English Port. Out at sea it was a whole other world, away from some of “Proper Societies’” harsh glare.

"What news?" Gillette asked while putting on his hat and crossing the floor to fall into step with the taller man.

Always ready for action, with a apparently endless supply of energy, sharp as a knife and with a quick temper to match, Norrington could think of no one else he would rather have in battle at his back. Gillette was the type that would willingly charge through the gates of hell, battle his way past any demon horde and spit in the devil's eyes without blinking. Off setting Gillette's more exuberant, cynical and fiery nature, Groves was more thoughtful, optimistic and mellow by nature, always willing to see the glass half full, but no less sharp. Better officers could not be found, each knowing his way around a ship more easily then most old sea salts twice their age and few could be found that could match either of them in skilful handling a sword or pistol. Groves particularly was a dead-eye when it came to pistols and rifles, both men having earned their title as Commodore Death’s two Wolves.

"Smoke spotted off the starboard…," Norrington suddenly paused on his way to the door after doing a double take, snagging his First Lieutenant's arm before he could step out the door.

"Might I inquire. Andrew, just what you wish to accomplish by walking out there with your breeches unbuttoned? Just what kind of example are you trying to give the men?" he scolded, sharing a teasing look with the chuckling Groves. Andrew cursed his extremely fare complexion for the hundredth time as he felt his cheeks flush red in embarrassment as he hurriedly buttoned up his immaculate white trousers.

"Really, Theo, I'm disappointed. This is the second time this voyage. I thought you had him better trailed then this," James clucked disapprovingly, sharing another amused look with his Second Lieutenant who was finally done sorting out his own appearance.

"I try, sir, honestly. Be thankful he was even wearing his britches!" Theo said with a dramatic sigh. Playing along as he came up to Gillette's side, he began to fuss with the double curls of his wig, making a show of adjusting his lover's hat and smoothing out invisible wrinkles in his coat. "One of these days he'll get it, James. Just needs some more training is all."

"I hear using a switch works."

"Oh, where long over that! We've moved onto treats and snacks for a job well done." Andrew, however, was unimpressed with his two friend’s idea of humor.

"Ha, ha, very amusing!" He retorted waspishly, arms now crossed over his chest as he gave them both a disapproving look. "As for you," the redhead growled, turning to glare at his grinning mate and finally smacking his fussing hands away, "I'll be dealing with you later."

Theodore cocked a eyebrow at that, a cheeky smile now on his lips. "Promise?"

"As long as it doesn't keep me up tonight," James snorted before Andrew could respond, rolling his eyes at the two as he fixed his own cravat before striding out the door, causing Gillette to scowl at his retreating back while a blush rose to Groves' cheeks.

"I swear both of you are too much at times!" Andrew grumbled, with a shake of his head prior to following James out, but not before leaning over and giving Theo an exasperated and quick peck on the cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     A short time later they stood on deck and sure enough a tall dark plume of smoke rose in the distance. "It appears to be coming from the Serpent Teeth islands," Norrington noted. One of the many smaller and lesser known islands groups scattered about the Caribbean, most ships kept well clear of them, for while both islands held plenty of vegetation and wildlife, with calm crystal clear lagoons and beautiful white sand beaches. Both islands were uninhabited and surrounded by a veritable maze of dangerous reefs and deadly rocks, making it impossible for any ship larger then a longboat to get to either island without being dashed against the rocks. The area around both island was littered with the wrecks of many an unfortunate ship which had found out the hard way just how dangerous the myriad of submerged reefs and dagger-like rocks really where. Though there where a few whispered rumors that said there were secret ways to get a large ship safely through the rocks to either of the twin paradises they guarded, most discounted them as simply stories.

"Pirates?" Gillette wondered aloud, a ginger eyebrow elevated.

"Perhaps...but most pirates don't usually burn their prizes," James muttered while looking through the glass. Behind him his Lieutenants shared a look with one another before Groves spoke up.

"A distress signal?" Both of them remembered what happened the last time they had spotted a smoke signal, which had lead the rescue of a certain ex fiancée and notorious pirate. James lowered the glass, still looking into the distance, lips thinned in thought.

"Possibly...either way, it is our Naval duty to investigate and offer assistance if needed," he said, looking back at his two Lieutenants. "Even so, we best be weary and prepare the men for possible battle."

Each nodded his agreement before Groves quickly went down to the main deck to ready the rest of the crew, leaving James to contemplate their course of action and Gillette snapping out orders on the quarterdeck as they continued to watch the plume of smoke in the distance as the young helmsman altered their course.

"I don't like this," Gillette muttered, joining him again with a marked frown as he glared into the distance the sun beginning to set over the water.

"Nor do I," Norrington agreed. "Only a fool would purposefully go to the Serpent Teeth islands..." he said, looking up at the once clear sky above and noticing the sudden appearance of clouds on the horizon. A storm was brewing and somehow it, the smoke and the whole situation felt wrong.

An hour and half later they had reached the twin islands, the sky above having turned overcast and ominous, gathering into a full blown storm, the blue water now dark and choppy. The officers were on edge and many of the sailors were muttering about the wrongness of it, all feeling the strange electricity in the air, the sharp bite of ozone on the wind. Norrington himself stood ramrod straight next to the helm, hands clasped firmly behind his back; he also felt it and only his iron clad control held him in place rather then pacing back and forth like an agitated and caged wolf.

Coming around the south side of the first island they spotted what appeared to be the burned out hulk of some unfortunate ship, the fire having died down and was now only but a few bits of spluttering and drowning embers. Yet that was not what immediately caught their attention, anchored not far from the remains was a Spanish galleon, just a little under in size then the famed Black Pearl.

At their appearance, the ship ran up the white flag, and being that their countries were still at peace thanks to a new treaty, the Dauntless came closer. Perhaps the crew had been attacked or had there been an accident that had caused the destruction of the other vessel? Whatever the reason, the storm above was growing worse as the heavens opened up and it began to rain as the Dauntless made her cautious way to the other ship.

They had not even come within hailing distance when a small rocket was fired from the other ship, exploding in the dark sky above both ships with a bright red burst of light as the galleon suddenly rolled out her cannons, the white flag dropping as she fired upon them. At the signal, three other ships appeared, converging upon them over the choppy sea, a massive warship that was even bigger then the Dauntless came at them from the small straight between the two islands while a frigate and another galleon came around the north island trying to block them in, all of them flying the flag of Spain.

"Ambush!" Someone yelled as Norrington cursed under his breath at the obvious trap that they had blithely wandered into, snapping into action.

"Sous remis, parc bâtards espagnols élevés!(2.)" Gillette snarled, lip curled, unconsciously lapsing back into his mother's tongue. "This is an act of war!" He growled, slamming a closed fist on the wet railing.

Luck was on their side, however, for the galleon's crew had been too eager, firing before the British ship was in the best range, all shots missing them. The galleon was not so fortunate when the Dauntless promptly returned the favor and blew some holes in their side before turning to her other attackers.

The next hour turned into a life and death battle with cannons firing, scrambling men and shouted orders as the Dauntless fought, the clap of thunder and occasion flash of lightening adding to the chaos as the Spanish converged as one on the lone British ship. The Dauntless began evasive maneuvers as battle was engaged and the great ships danced and pivoted over the stormy waves in a mad dance, salvos flying.

"They can't maneuver as easily when they’re bunched up!" Norrington yelled to Groves, who nodded, having taken over the helm, his handsome face grim as the ship was rocked by another hit. They and everyone else were soaked from the downpour, water running down their faces as the ship bucked under their feet, but there was a determination in their eyes and all pulled their weight.

The four Spanish ships where having problems trying to fight while struggling to maneuver in the growing storm. There was a loud crack as the bowsprit of the lead warship was sheared off, steered to close to the passing frigate, ripping a gash in her portside gunwale and crushing one of her longboats. The fact that they were all after the same target was also proving difficult, causing them to bunch up, making it even more difficult because they had to be careful how they fired less they hit one another as well. Norrington was taking full advantage of this as the various crews of the attacking ships could not help but angrily admire the skill and battle prowess as the Dauntless somehow held her own against multiple enemies and the storm.

"Ready all cannons and drive us between them!" the Commodore shouted, his sword out and pointing to the widening gap appearing between the largest Spanish ship and the smaller galleon which was beginning to list from their previous bombardment. "Marines to either side with muskets ready!" As soon as they were between the two ships, the fearful expressions on the faces of the scrambling soldiers and sailors on the decks of both ships clear, Norrington gave the command.

"FIRE!"

Firing his own pistol at a marksman on the larger warship to their left, Norrington watched the man stagger before pitching over the side, the warship shaking beneath them with the thundering of the cannons as the air was filled with smoke, curses, screams and the sharp cracking of guns being fired. Through the smoke and rushing men on the lead Spanish ship, James caught fleeting sight of a high ranking officer standing tall by the helm. By his distinctive red and gold uniform and large white plumed hat it was clear that the dark haired man was a Admiral in the Spanish Navy and for a moment the two men took one anther’s measure.

From what James could see, the officer was older then him; a tall arrogant figure and a noble bearing that spoke of long years of military service, his dark eyes sharp as daggers as they seemed to glare back at him across the distance. Then he was lost in cloud of smoke as their ships raced past one another. Somehow the Dauntless managed to pass through the gauntlet with minimum damage, but with maximum distruction inflicted on their enemies, the Commodore's gamble having paid off, the storm and pounding downpour adding to the confusion.

"Reload all cannons and muskets!" Gillette bellowed, his blue coated and white wigged form to be seen running down the line of red coated marines on deck. While Norrington ordered the men to adjust the sheets and halyards and let out the main sail, all of them moving like a well oiled machine as the bosun’s shrill whistle ringing trough the heavy air.

"Groves, bring us starboard! Cannons ready...and...!

"Fire!"

The Dauntless gave the two ships a full broadside, the frigate taking the brunt of the damage though the mizzenmast was toppled on the main warship. It was during this that the second galleon had swung around the other ships for another attack, coming up on their larboard side and scoring four successful hits on the much larger British ship causing major damage. Ripping through her upper hull, one blast destroying part the quarterdeck where Norrington and Groves stood. There were horrible screams as blood and body parts as well as lethal oak splinters went flying, the boards shuddering under there feet at the impacts.

Unfortunately for the galleon's crew, the Commodore had been prepared for just such an attack as his tall form appeared after a moment through the smoke and rain on the now partly damaged quarter deck. His pale face and uniform now stained from soot and blood splatter, his tricorn missing, as his voice rose above the roar of the storm once more, eyes flashing with green fire.

"Blow that ship out of the water!"

With that command, the Dauntless unleashed her cannons, scoring three direct and devastating hits, one of which pierced the galleon's lower hull and apparently found a store of powder. Abruptly a great explosion tore through the ship, breaking her asunder as all those aboard shielded their eyes from the sudden brightness and flying debris, broken bits of flaming wood scattered over the choppy waves. The Dauntless and her crew were not staying around to watch as the storm only seemed to grow worse with each passing minute.

"Make for open water!" Norrington shouted. Groves, his hat lost some time during the last bombardment, swung them around, skirting the ship past the deadly maze of rocks off to their starboard, heading for the deep water channel between the two islands. Gillette was howling orders to get the wounded below as he and Murtogg helped carry a badly bleeding sailor to sickbay, reappearing a few moments later on deck, the white of his uniform bloody, his lose flame-red hair about his shoulders, his usual wig long lost during the battle. While Norrington directed some of the marines and sailors from the quarter deck to secure some of the loosened sheets even as he watched the three Spanish ships try an untangle themselves; the slender frigate was dead in the water and the remaining galleon was now badly listing to one side.

On the deck of the largest ship, the senior Spanish officer that Norrington had spotted earlier watched with narrowed eyes and clenched fists as the Dauntless make her escape. He had tried and failed to take down the famed "Pirate Hunter" of the Caribbean fleet, but he had other means at his disposal as his hand came up to feel the hard object hidden in his coat. His dark eyes turned back to the British warship making her escape; this place would prove their graveyard yet!

"//Fulfill your debt, Baggaa!//" he yelled into the storm, the object hidden in his coat seeming to pulse with sudden energy.

His demand was heard as a force far greater then all the ships there combine gathered its strength from below...

"Mon Dieu!(3.)" Gillette gasped as he and everyone else aboard stood frozen and could only stare as a great swell of water began to gather between them and the enemy ships. Soon the rise of murky water blocked out the sight of the Spanish ships until it was a massive dark wave that dwarfed the warship, reaching into the sky.

By God, this was not of nature! Norrington thought as he stared open mouthed with the others before snapping out of it and flying into action.

"Turn her into the wave! We must turn her into the wave!" He shouted above the roar of the storm as he rushed across the slick deck and flew up the stairs to take the helm from Groves who was struggling with the wheel. Throwing his greater strength into it, his flashing green eyes never left the frightening sight growing off their starboard as a jagged bolt of lightning pierced the sky above.

Yet even as he fought the wheel, his pale face stung by the flying rain, his knuckles white upon the spokes of the wheel. James knew. His men scurried about and up in the dangerously swinging rigging, Groves, Gillette and the other officers working right along side them, shouting orders. He knew it was hopeless, looking at the great wall of water that now obscured the very sky as it towered over them; this was no natural wave, but he refused for them to go down quietly.

"If this is to be the end, my Dauntless. We fight! Even if it is to our doom!" He spoke to the great ship beneath his calloused palms and booted feet, his head high in defiance, eyes alight in green fire, his hat and immaculate wig long lost to the wind and sea, his long brown hair soaked.

The grand ship fought against the storm, powering her way through the water under his command, but she had only managed to come partially around when the wave began to rush towards. It was all to soon upon them, picking up the mighty warship as if she was but a small child's toy as the men on deck held on for dear life and prayed to whatever god that would hear them. For a bizarre few moments the great ship pitched almost completely vertical as she desperately tried to climb the monstrous wave, causing men, cannons and anything not secured to slide across the deck and still Norrington managed to cling to the wheel. Then she began to fall, tumbling back as the wave crested over them, pushing them towards the maze of rocks surrounding the north island; time seemed to stop as the disconcerting sensation of falling took hold as the ship capsized.

The bottom dropped out of Norrigton's stomach and many of the men cried out as the deadly rocks rushed up to greet them while the massive wall of water finally crashed over top them. Somewhere on deck Norrington thought he heard Theodore's distinctive voice shout something before all was lost in a terrible crash that threw him and everyone else to the deck, knocking the very breath from his lungs. A hellish crack followed that seemed to rip through his very being as the entire ship was swept over by the sea, washing away many sailors with it. There was a great snap as the mainmast shattered and toppled, taking the mizzenmast and yards with it, crushing two unfortunate men as the boards splintered and the deck tilted.

James gasped as the Dauntless gave a huge shudder and horrendous moan of agony under him and he knew in his heart that her back had been broken, impaled upon the rocks. Pushing the pain of her loss away for the moment, he forced himself to get up off the deck; the storm was not over and he still had men to save, but whatever strange magic that had conjured the storm was not yet through with them. As James scrambled to his feet on the now slanted and trembling deck, he was just reaching out for the helm when another vast wave crashed down upon them.

James was knocked off his feet again and washed overboard before any of his flailing limbs could find something to grab onto; he felt himself fall, then he was underwater and being swept along by some kind of strong riptide, bearing him away from the rocks and his dying ship. Then, as suddenly as the odd pull had carried him away, it stopped and James found himself floating deep beneath the waves in suddenly calm water.

Immediately he shed his heavy outer coat that dragged him down as he struggled to ascend. He was only half way there when something momentarily blocked his path as a dark shape loomed past him, causing him to bump into it. He felt something cold and solid, which made his heart race in panic. Was it a shark? The creatures where notorious for following ships and even more so for appearing when a ship went down.

Shark or not, his lungs were burning as he kicked to the surface again, bubbles racing him as he swam up, watching bright flashes of lighting above be distorted by the water. A moment later he burst to the surface with a gasp, gulping in great lungfulls of air as he tread water, bobbing amongst the large dark waves, the wind howling.

Having spotted the wreck of the Dauntless through the storm where she hung amongst the rocks, James began to swim towards it when something brushed his leg. He immediately struck out at it with a yelp as he hurriedly peered around himself in fear, turning this way and that, looking for the dreaded fin. Unfortunately he was completely unprepared for what happened next. He didn't even have time to yell before he was suddenly yanked back under, both his legs captured in a vise-like grip as whatever it was dragged him back into the depths. He could not see what held him as water rushed by his ears as he struggled, watching those distant flashes of lighting in the world above get farther and farther away as the darkness around him seemed to close in.

Was this how it was to end?

A small part of felt oddly at peace about his imminent death; he had after all always assumed that he would die at sea, had even wished it. The thought of dying of old age, finally to be interned in the ground, to molder away in some wooden box held no comfort. Yet Norrington felt shame at the loss of the men he commanded, they put their trust in him and he had failed them utterly. He had failed Gillette and Groves, his closest friends; he prayed that they would somehow survive this and forgive him. Worst of all, he had failed his beloved Dauntless, the pain he felt at her demise eclipsed all others. The loss of her was a gaping wound that he had never felt, not even when his prized Interceptor had been destroyed nor when Elizabeth crushed his heart and had publicly taken another. The majestic Dauntless, flagship of the Jamaican fleet, lost...

Yet even during all these regrets and his coming doom, one figure managed to shove his sashaying way first and foremost in his mind then. Jack, Jack Sparrow. He would never see Jack again, their last hurried and burning moments together seared into his mind, the hot caress of sun golden skin, sinful lips and those sparkling bottomless eyes smudged with khol. Jack, with the many beads and trinkets in his long wild hair chiming and clicking, announcing his unique presence with every swaying step, beringed hands fluttering distractingly. Insane, drunken, clumsy, infuriating, exasperating, mad, colorful, graceful and beautiful Jack.

"Farewell my pretty sparrow..."

There was only darkness now, the pressure crushing in around him from all sides as it became deathly quiet, the cold seeming to leach the very warmth from his body, his decent having finally stopped. For a long pregnant pause all was dark and still, then an eerie green glimmer unexpectedly illuminated the dark gloom of the water around him and it was with some understandable surprise that James realized that his lungs were no longer burning.

Had he already drowned and just not have realized it?

It was with a shocked gasp that released a small blast of bubbles that he finally saw whatever it was that had dragged him down and held him in its cold and ruinous grip. For floating before him in the murk, partly illuminated by the strange green glow was something that could only have been from some horrible nightmare.

For there before him was a massive figure with two glowing eyes that watched him from a vaguely humanoid face, its whole body covered in slimy dark green and brown scales. Its upper body was like that of an old crone with long ropey arms and terrible spider-like webbed fingers, a pair of flabby shriveled breasts hanging from it's milky yellow underbelly. Ragged membrane-like fins drifted in the current down her bent back and at her knobby elbows while the rest of her body from the protruding belly down was that of a great long eel, some of the thick coils of which imprisoned his legs in bands of seeming steel. A fair mermaid of legend this was not.

Heart thundering in his ears, Norrington automatically reached for his sword, only to find the empty scabbard floating at his hip, his blade must had slipped out when he was washed overboard. He would have reached for the knife in his left boot then, but that option was moot, thanks to the cold coils around his calves. With so few options left he simply began to struggle again, trying desperately to wrench his legs free as he beat and clawed uselessly against the greasy constricting bands, his long brown hair whipping about him as he fought, teeth gritted.

Then, quick as a striking snake, one of the creature's hands suddenly shot out and seized him by the neck, his struggles immediately ceasing, eyes wide. Her grip was unbreakable, but not choking as she moved in close, bringing her horrible face to mere centimeters from his pale one. So close that James could feel the distinct pull as she sucked water into her large mouth and over her fluttering gills, sea weed and bits of flesh to be seen clinging to a mouthful of needle sharp teeth. The cold of her hand seeped into his very being as all he could do was stare back as she turned her head to one side to study him closer with one of her large, bulbous, fish-like eyes that glowed a milky corpse white. It was then that a low gasping voice spoke, causing him to jump in her chill grasp.

"Such lovely... lovely eyesss you have..."

It took him a few long moments to realize the voice was in his head and that it had come from the hideous creature before him. The creature’s mouth did not move, save for its gentle oscillation so he quickly deduced that it communicated through some form of telepathy as it spoke again.

"The sea.... be in your eyesss.... such lovely.... lovely eyesss you have..."

"I beg your pardon?" he uttered unthinkingly after she had released his neck, drifting back to her previous spot in the gloom. It was during this time that James realized that the green glow around them was coming from luminescent patches of scales along her eel-like tail. The creature ignored his question as she continued to study him as a few curious and colorful fish appeared out of the darkness to check out the surface dweller now oddly in their midst.

"Handsome, handsome.... your flesh... must truly be sweet!" That observation did nothing to soothe his already frayed nerves.

"M-Madame, I must protest! W-We have not been introduced," he blurted out incredulously. This time she seemed to hear him for she became still and appeared to lean away from him and straighten; his words seeming to cause her some momentary confusion before she sagged forward again in her previous bent back slouch.

"I be.... Baggaa…”

"My Lady," James finally managed to get out of his tight throat; part of him shrinking to calling such a creature a "Lady" in any shape or form. "I must insist that you release me, immediately!" he demanded, even as a part of him wondered distantly how and exactly why he was able to converse with this creature underwater. Why he was not completely out of his mind in terror escaped him, though he quickly chalked it up to having fought cursed undead pirates and being around the regular insanity that was Jack Sparrow.

Yet Baggaa did not release him. Norrington could hear the distinctive sound of gurgling laughter in his mind as he now glared at the creature who showed amusement at his demands. It was then an abrupt realization came to him as he recalled the events of the strange storm, the Spanish ambush and the massive unnatural wave that had destroyed his beloved Dauntless; it all struck him like a bolt of lightening.

"You!" he accused, eyes flashing as his pale hands curled in useless fists. "It was you! You are responsible for the storm- that rogue wave!"

"Yes... It was I...." the creature croaked.

"Damn you!" he spat, incensed. Where once his heart had quailed in fear, now it burned in anger. "Why!? I and my crew never wronged you! Why are you in league with the Spanish? They have declared war by attacking one of the King’s Navy’s ships!" Still Baggaa remained unaffected by his words and anger, simply watching him with those disquieting and unblinking eyes.

"I care not... of your petty world of dirt.... squabbling kings of Men.... and flimsy wooden ships...."

"Then WHY!?" Norrington yelled in frustration, the gentle currant pulling at his clothes.

"For a debt...."

"A debt...?" Norrington echoed with a confused blink, his brow deeply creased. "To whom? Why!?" he challenged, angrily swatting away a small irritating fish that had been nibbling at the strands of his hair.

"A debt... to he that holds.... something precious to me...." came Baggaa’ gasping voice again; this time there was a terrible weariness to it as into Norrington's mind suddenly came an image. The image was that of the high ranking Spanish officer he had seen on the deck of the largest of the four ships that had ambushed them, a sneer on his severe face while in his right hand he held a small shell comb .

"In return for my daughter's comb.... in agreement that I grant him favors.... Two of which I have fulfilled... Destroy you and your ship.... Destroyed your ship I have..." She gurgled as he listened with a terrible sinking heart.

"But you..... Are not like... other men I have dined on... Not like other greedy men... I have been forced to serve.... as I do now.... Unlike they... You are in the Sea's favor... Her mark is upon your being... For that alone... I will not claim you... Or the souls under your protection...." That caused a spark of hope to flare in James's heart then.

“My men and officers, let them go! Take me and the Dauntless if you must. But I beg you to spare my men!" He pleaded, a hand to his breast, eyes wide in earnest hope that she would show some small measure of mercy.

"I can not set them free... That is beyond my power now... for they are as doomed... as you..." Her ominous words dashing what little hope he had foolishly grasped as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back in sorrowful defeat, but Baggaa was not done speaking yet.

"Instead... I lay a curse upon you and our crew...." That caused his eyes to snap open as he turned to her again, his heart seized by an icy fist as she lifted an arm and pointed at him with a long spidery, clawed finger.

"Cursed you and your crew will be... Never will you sail above the waves as you once did... Your time with earth beneath your feet... is at an end!" She rasped in his mind, her eyes glowing brighter in the gloom that seemed to become darker. "But my heart is not black... And your soul is noble.... For that... I will not take your life or your men's... Instead.... I grant you all a new life.... You and your crew will be cursed... yet you will become closer to the sea then you could ever imagine…”

With those final gurgling and gasping words the world felt as if it warped and distorted around James before he could demand an explanation. A terrible pain shot through his very being, causing him to curl in upon himself, completely unaware that Baggaa had released his legs. Teeth gritted, his pale face twisted into a grimace, fingers knotted, muscles ridged as the pain continued to build until it finally became too much and he threw back his head as a scream ripped out of his throat, releasing a cloud of silvery bubbles to race to the surface. Distantly a small part of him realized that his lungs were filling with water as he thrashed and convulsed, never having felt such agony in all his life and soon all thought was lost in a searing white light. The hulking form of Baggaa watching silently with her glowing eyes as a cold luminescent blue radiance began to surround James' form.

"A curse... that you will face the brunt of..." Baggaa hissed cryptically, her great eel-like tail writhing about her slimy form, “…for only you will remember…”

Not far away the Dauntless shifted and groaned as she was pounded by the cruel waves and storm that still raged as her crew scrambled about, desperately trying to help one another when they began to drop and howl in agony as they too began to change. Many falling into the water while others fell into trembling heaps on the deck as the curse took hold, clawing at the slick boards and their clothes.

Groves, half his face covered in crimson thanks to a cut in his scalp, had been trying to help the limping Gillette across the tilted deck, even as the First Lieutenant continued to yell out orders for the men to salvage what they could. When he pitched forward to the ruff planks, dragging Gillette with him as the transformation hit him. Gillette only had time to get to his knees and yell out Theo's name in concern before he to was hit by the change, both men clutching each other in their shared agony.

"W-What is h-h-happening!?” Groves stuttered through gritted teeth, his handsome face now buried in Gillette’s soaking coat was twisted into a grimace of pain.

Somehow Gillette managed to sit up and drag the other man with him, protectively tucking Theo's soaked brown haired head under his pale chin, his own red hair plastered to his head as he tried to look for James again in the chaos of the storm and screaming men as the cold deck beneath them shuddering with the crashing of the waves. An eye-searing bolt of lightning scattered across the black clouds above, followed by a deafening thunderclap as the wind ruthlessly ripped at the remaining shrouds and the rain scoured raw unprotected skin.

"Coup dessus, mon amour!(4.)" he managed to gasp, even as Theo let out a terrible keening wail of pain that tore at his heart to hear even through his own pain. He was unable to stifle a loud stilted scream of his own a moment later as he convulsed, blood running down his chin, having bitten through his bottom lip, still refusing to let go of his protective hold on his now thrashing and screaming lover.

"James, where the hell are you!?" was his last thoughts as his and Groves' worlds faded into searing white light. Neither of them aware of the sinister luminescent blue glow that began to surround them and the other screeching and convulsing men.

Across the waves the crews of the remaining Spanish ships also fight the storm around them, but even as they worked to secure the shrouds and keep clear of the deadly rocks, many could not help but glance nervously across the water at what was happening to the warship now impaled amongst the rocks in the distance. A terrible wind ripped at their sails and clothing, filled with a frightening chorus of horrible screams the sound of which made their blood turn to ice water as cold fingers seem to wrap around their very hearts, many crossing themselves while a few had even dropped to their knees to pray.

Only one tall figure stood there on the quarterdeck of the largest ship, completely unfazed by the storm and the strange events taking place, his eyes never leaving the sight of the dying British ship and the odd flashes of blue light across the waves amongst the rocks. He looked down then and drew from the folds of his uniform a small cloth enclosed object; unwrapping it he revealed a simple and ancient shell comb. A plain comb that his father had given him that had been past down generation to generation. Now it was his and now he used it... for himself, his family and for his country.

Beneath the chaos of the storm above, Baggaa silently watched the tall man thrash and contort as he was transformed by her ancient magic, the sound of bones shifting and popping to be heard as the blue light now shown like a beacon, illuminating the underwater world around the two figures.

"Rebirth is always a painful process.... Soon.... Soon all will be over... as will be the storm..."

    Elsewhere in the world, the powerful and mysterious woman known as Tia Dalma came to stand in the doorway of her simple shack home, her many attendants shifting uneasily where they stood silent guard around the swamp. She cocked her head to one side as if listening to some far away voice, her glassy eyes distant as they stared in the direction of the sea, drawing the tattered and colorful threadbare shall about her smooth brown shoulders, her dark stained lips thinned in thought.

"There be dark mojo at work this night," she said aloud to the humid air before slinking back inside and firmly shutting the door behind her.

Not far from a freshly sunk ship off the coat of Australia, the sun shinning merrily above, the Flying Dutchmen had come to collect some new souls. The imposing creature known as Davy Jones stiffened and sharply turned, his stiff leg harshly scraping the deck, his many tentacles writhing in sudden agitation as his blue eyes narrowed. Most of the crew around him also seemed to feel the tension as they too paused. All of them looked to the horizon, back in the direction of the remote Caribbean, sensing the distinct tingle of far away magic.

In the scattered places around the sea, above and below alike, various beings and creatures that were supposedly the stuff of legend and myth paused to look up or felt a shiver run up their spines.

Cruising the warm waters off Cuba under a crescent moon, the legendary black pirate ship know as the Black Pearl gave a strange shudder as a great moan seemed to flutter up from deep within her bowels. Some of those that crewed her halted what they were doing before shrugging their shoulders and continuing about their tasks, save one lithe being standing at the helm, who noticed the moan and shudder of his ship under his boots with a frown on his smooth sun kissed face.

Caught by a strange urge, the distinctly swaying pirate know by the name of Captain Jack Sparrow turned his dark gaze to the south east, an odd feeling fluttering in his belly as half heard whispers blew teasingly into his ear. The many trinkets chimed and clicked as his long dread locked hair whipped about his tan face in the playful sea breeze even as his kohl lined eyes searched the horizon. Yet as soon as the strange mood had come, it was gone, save for a departing tremor that raced down his spine. For several long moments he continued to look out at the moonlit water, all was silent save for the slap of the waves and the normal creaking of the ship before he finally gave a shrug and turned his attention back to the helm, giving the wheel under his grip a fond pat.

"See? Nothin’ ta worry about, love," he soothed the ship with a comforting smile, reaching up and straitening his tricorn hat as he leaned on the helm.

"Nothin' at all..."

(1.) "Good bye, Madame. May the weather be fare for you and your little one."
(2.) "Under handed, pig raised Spanish Bastards!"
(3.) "My God!"
(4.) "Hang on my love!"

Fic: "Pearls in the Deep" part.1a

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 18:58:11 GMT

Title: Pearls in the Deep (part 1a)
Rating: PG-13, so far
Pairing: Slash, Sparrington, Gillette/Groves
Disclaimer: Disney owns most of these characters (with the exception of a few of my own OC) and the setting in which they live.
Notes: I’ve been into PotC fandom since the first movie came out, but this is my first PotC fic and is a AU since this takes place after CotBP but ignores the DMC (even though I liked the movie and have a few of the characters from it show up). Forgive any horrible historical inaccuracies, I’m just doing this for entertainment.
I must confess that this fic was inspired by Oasis_herself’s wonderful “A Fish Tail” fic (hope you don’t mind?), and reading Hellboy graphic novels before bedtime ~_^.

Now beta-read

    The H.M.S. Dauntless was returning from a successful hunt under clear sapphire skies and fair winds, having captured and sunk the rogue pirate ship the Shrieking Bride off the south coast of Dominica.

After dropping the prisoners off at Fort Mason for trial, the Dauntless, by command of Admiral Davies at the fort, had then been forced to take a short detour out into the Atlantic to meet up with the H.M.S. Intrepid to transfer a prisoner. Captain "One-eye" Brick McMulligan to be taken to England to face his trial for a long list of crimes committed in British waters and down along the African coast.

Duty done, the Dauntless was now making her way back to Port Royal; her crew looking forward to going home for a long deserved rest after ridding the Caribbean of another, rather vicious shipload of pirates. One aboard, however, would have been more then content to continue to sail and hunt. He stood at the helm, enjoying the sea breeze as green eyes scanned the horizon that seemed to stretch on forever. Commodore James Norrington cut a tall, dashing figure in his immaculate white, blue and gold brocade uniform, his gold trimmed tricorn hat upon his white wigged head, back straight and bearing proud. Instead of his usual hose and shoes, he wore tall shiny black boots accentuating his long lean legs as the black ribbon holding the tail of his powdered wig fluttered in the breeze at the nape of his neck. Many a heart on land and sea was set a quiver while others looked on in envy at the sight of the handsome Commodore, protector of the Innocent and Hunter of Pirates. Conversely, others shied away in fear or gnashed their teeth in hate at the Naval officer who had become "Commodore Death" to all pirates and sundry unsavory sorts in the warm waters of the Caribbean.

It had been two years since the fateful day Jack Sparrow had fallen off the lookout point of Port Royal and been allowed one days head start. Since that time the Black Pearl and Dauntless had come to play a delicate ballet of cat-and-mouse, the pirate ship somehow always managing to outrun or just slip past the Commodore’s grasp. The Black Pearl and her celebrated captain alone proved lucky enough to escape Commodore Death and the Dauntless' cannons when on the hunt, for no other pirate or blackheart that tried their luck had come away so fortunate. Which in turn only further lent itself to the legend and mystique of the fey Captain of the Pearl, much to said pirates' delight.

A small knowing smile flashed over Norrington's lips at his thoughts just then. What would the legends say if they knew that the enigmatic Captain Jack Sparrow and the feared Commodore of the Jamaican fleet were also lovers? No doubt it would be met with utter disbelief, faints, and shouts of anger...though James thought it would be nice to see the Turners’ eyeballs fall out of their heads in surprise.

His grip on the wheel spokes tightened in irritation. The two really were quite infuriating as they lied directly to James’ face. Elizabeth especially thought nothing of it. Both seeming to enjoy immensely the fact, they thought, he was so blind and ignorant, having no idea about their occasional sneaking off to go play "Pirate" on the Black Pearl or the fact that Sparrow was a frequent visitor to Port Royal and was known to stay a day or more at their home. James was quite aware of it and so was Governor Swann, who long ago perfected playing the fussing old fool down to an art to hide a sharp mind. After all, he had not been chosen to be the Governor of Port Royal by being a complete fool. What the Governor, young William and Elizabeth did not know was that after he was done visiting the Turners, Jack usually made his way to James' residence or snuck aboard the Dauntless anchored in the bay. James imagined they would be gob-smacked to know that on more then a few occasions said swaying pirate didn't even bother to stop and pay them a visit when in Port Royal.

Like fire and ice, theirs was an odd, tumultuous, passionate affair; the heat between them was a fire that threatened to burn them both with its intensity. For all their desire for the other, Jack was a restless being and needed to be free to be truly happy while James himself, despite his love of the sea, was a bound man, chained by duty, king and law to serve others, his freedom fleeting, for all his rank and power. In the end, he was little more then an indentured servant to the British Empire and the people he guarded. Yet, no matter how far he flew, James' pretty bird somehow always flew back to him before flying off once again to chase the horizon; James was content with that…so long as his pretty bird came back...

It was then that the lookout in the crow's nest called out, shaking him from his internal musings. "Sails Ho! Far starboard beam!"

Norrington turned his head. Two distant sails could be seen on the horizon. They where too far to make out much detail, but he immediately noted the dark plumes of smoke coming from both ships. It was during this time that first Lieutenant Gillette stepped out from the main cabin and made for the quarter deck, his shoes clicking smartly across the deck before taking a spot at the railing. Second Lieutenant Groves was still below decks finishing up inspections with some the midshipmen in tow.

"Spouts off the starboard bow!" came another shout. Sure enough, said spouts came into view as a great herd of whales came closer, the two ships that trailed the tall columns of greasy smoke clearly in pursuit as the animals tried to escape.

"Its two whalers, sir... French by the look of them," Gillette said as Norrington handed off the helm to a coltish young helmsmen and joined him at the railing, the shorter man handing him the glass. "Looks like they’ve had quite the successful hunt," He noted, his dark coffee eyes squinting in the glare of the sun overhead, his pale complexion in stark contrast to the dark blue of his hat and uniform.

A frown managed to crack Norrington's stoic mask as he peered through the glass at the dirty and blood-stained decks of the two ships, thick ropes hung over their sides that bound the tail of another whale out of the water. Tails still struggling, the already harpooned and bleeding animals were being slowly drowned, the crews on either deck hurriedly securing more ropes to the thrashing whales, while others butchered a sloughtered carcass and rendered the blubber down.

The Commodore lowered the glass in disgust; aside from his wish to rid the Caribbean of (most) Pirates and other blackhearts, he had always held a particular high distain for Slavers and Whalers. If he was not bound by the laws of the Navy and British Crown, he would happily have rid the Caribbean of all their foul kind as well as he watched the two ships get closer. A true sailor at heart, he loved the ocean in all her fickle moods and had always felt more at home on rocking ship then with solid land under his feet, and thus hated those that who would simply rape her bounty for their own greedy gains and mar her beauty.

Once when he was but a fresh midshipmen on his first voyage out from England to Morocco on the H.M.S. Lady Gay, he remembered being below decks and hearing for the first time the strange haunting songs of whales as he lay awake in his hammock. Since that fateful night land ceased to be his true home, having lost his heart to the sea, his dreams filled with wind and blue water as teasing whispers sang him an ever changing chorus of the tides and waves.

"Sir! There! At our larboard side!" one of the sailor on the lower deck cried, shaking him out of his thoughts.

Norrington and Gillette turned and moved to the other railing to see what the tall dark haired sailor was pointing to. What they saw was one of the massive beasts now swimming along side them. As Norrington and the rest of the crew watched the whale swim gracefully through the blue waves next to them, breaking the surface and letting out a great blast of breath before dipping back into the waves, a much smaller light gray body broke the surface before slipping back under after an expulsion breath.

"Look! It’s a mother and child!" Groves gasped from the main deck, having recently come up from below moments before, joining the others at the railing out of curiosity to what had everyone’s attention. The second Lieutenant was unable to hide the childlike wonder from his face as he glanced up at his two friends standing on the poop deck, who could not help but smile back as the other sailors and soldiers on deck crowded around or hung above like monkeys in the rigging.

Smiles were interspersed along with the awed stares as mother and baby below seemed to watch them in turn, the baby at one point giving a small, if not very graceful, leap in the type of simple excitement that only the young of any species seemed capable of, causing many of the sailors to laugh and cheer.

"This be a fortuitous sign!" croaked an older wind-beaten sailor with short salt and pepper hair under his brimmed hat. Sailors being the superstitious lot they were, they were always seeing the best and worst of any mishap or event, all knowing how fickle the sea could be with her favor.

"Aye! Good luck indeed! Old Neptune be right smiling on us this voyage," said another, nodding enthusiastically.

"There be more comin!" came a cry from above again, causing the others on deck to turn and look.

They watched as the large herd of whales sharply turned and began to follow the great warship. Soon they were surrounding her on all sides, the Dauntless seeming to take her new acquaintances in full stride, her white sails full and, with the exception of few, most of the men aboard seemed more fascinated by their new friends then worried. While many had seen whales and other various forms of sea life on their numerous voyages, few had ever been so close to the laviathans. The red coated Marines especially seemed awestruck, Privates Mullroy and Murtogg amongst them, jostling and crowding one another, eyes wide in curiosity as they pointed.

James found the pair to be a bit... simple and bumbling, but he didn't doubt their courage and fortitude for an instant. In fact he had made a point of keeping all the men that had survived the battle with the cursed undead pirates under his command. Some men, of course, had chosen to leave the Navy after their adventure, unwilling to face the horror and reality of what they had fought and survived, while others took special pride in their continued serving aboard the Dauntless, feeling that to serve under the Commodore’s command set them apart from other men.

At the moment, the burly Mullroy had a death grip on the back of the white crossed straps of Murtogg's scarlet uniform as if afraid his red haired friend would jump over the side. His excited mate leaned over the railing and made some kind of observation before the other pulled him firmly back, which soon turned into one of their regular rounds of arguing over the oddest of things. Norrington gave an internal snort at their antics, but for all their- and everyone else’s- odd quirks and exocentric behavior, he could not ask for a better crew, he thought with a warm flash of pride swelling in his heart.

"Those Whalers are turning to follow us," Gillette noted, looked through the spyglass. Lowering it he turned to Norrington with a cocked ginger eyebrow as Groves came up the stairs and joined them, taking the glass to have a look for himself, a noticeable frown on his usually mellow features.

"Their after the whales," was the only thing he said before lowering the glass and looking at his two friends. His feelings made clear by the look in his warm caramel-brown eyes; of the three, he was the open optimistic and cheerful one, balancing out Gillette’s fiery temper and Norrington’s cool cynicism.

For a long moment the officers held a silent three-way conversation with one another for a long moment. So it was that after their silent communication the three looked as one back to the now pursuing ships before Norrington turned on his heel and walked down the steps to the lower deck, posture straight, hands clasped behind his back, once again the commanding Commodore. For several moments it was quiet on deck save for the wind and the occasion spout from one of the many whales around them as the waiting crew seemed to hold its collective breath as the Commodore looked over the side again. Sharp emerald eyes watched the mother whale and her offspring still keeping easy pace with his beloved ship, carefully maintaining the great warship between them and the two Whalers, seeking to protect herself and her offspring. The other whales of the herd, apparently of like thinking, seeming to recognize the difference between the three vessels, perhaps somehow sensing the good souls aboard or the protection the large man-o-war could offer against the Whalers. Either way, in James' mind, there was a very simply answer to this development before turning to look back at his waiting crew.

"It is our duty to serve others...and so, if these creatures are on the same heading as we, then the least we can do is to provide a safe escort for this mother and child. Do you not agree, Lieutenants?" he asked, every inch the serious navel officer, head held high, though his eyes twinkled in obvious amusement.

"Very good, sir!" Groves chirped from his position on the stairs, a big smile on his face. Gillette, standing two steps above him, nodded his head in agreement, both men mirroring the Commodore’s posture, looking sharp in their uniforms, their double curled wigs gleaming in the sunlight, all in perfect agreement.

"Send up the signal flags, Mister Perry," Norrington then ordered, turning to a heavy set sailor with curly brown hair, who immediately snapped to attention. "Let’s tell those two frog-run slaughter barges to back off."

"Aye, aye! Sir!" Perry saluted, a grin now on his broad features, before he raced away to do as ordered.

"And if they do not?" Gillette asked as James made his way back up the stairs to join them by the wheel. "They could simply feign ignorance to our signals."

"Then we just might have to fire a shot off their port bow to make sure they truly understand us," the Commodore said, bobbing an eyebrow that caused an answering smirk to pull at one corner of Gillette's lips as Groves chuckled.

Gillette's question proved prophetic, for a short time later the two ships continued to follow, blantanly ignoring the hoisted signal flags warning them off. So it was, with clear relish, that Second Lieutenant Groves personally showed a team of sailors the finer points of firing a cannon. After a surprise that must have caused more then a few of the men on the two Whalers to loose control of their bladders, they ran around like panicking ants as the two creaking and smoking ships wisely broke off and turned north as fast as they were able.

Meanwhile, back aboard the Dauntless, the departing sight of the two whalers departing in hasty retreat was met with cheers and several rounds of, “Huzza! Huzza!” from the red-coats before they eventually settled down and the crew went back to their regular duties under Gillette's watchful eyes.

An hour later Norrington took the wheel again, his two Lieutenants coming to flank him, enjoying themselves as much as he as they sailed on home. Basking in the exhilaration of the Dauntless gliding over the waves, they raced the massive animals surrounding her as she shone in the warm rays of the sun, the very boards below their feet seeming to strum with energy. The great ship responding with a speed and ease of steering that only the Commodore could bring out in her, her snowy sails seeming to capture every gust of wind as she cut through the jewel blue waters. Not known for her speed, the warship had an undeniable majesty about her, a queen amongst the many ships sailing these waters; not a pampered and privileged royal, but a tried and tested warrior queen of the ever shifting blue battle fields of the sea. It was times like these that Norrington felt like they could take on anything, that nothing could stand in their way. It was times like these that he could allow himself to forget his obligation and duty, to simply pretend...pretend that he was free. Surely this is what Jack spoke of and treasured above all else, true freedom.

It was some time later that two new spouts of air broke the waves and two great shadows rose up out of the depths. Those on deck watched in awe as two massive sleek forms broke the surface to the port side, the gleaming blue gray forms slicing through the water outside of the main herd several yards away.

"By Neptune's balls! Look at the size of 'em!" one sailor whistled from the rigging above. The two new comers where a sight to behold, dwarfing the impressive size of the whales around them. From the helm James guessed that both animals were easily half the length of the Dauntless.

"True leviathans if there ever were," Gillette said aloud in wonder. Groves was silent next to him, his darker features appearing sharper in the harsh sun above, in contrast to Gillette's paler, broader features. James could not deny it; it was an enchanted moment, the very air seeming alive with magic as they cruised over the crystal blue water, the Dauntless humming happily under his feet.

The giants eventually tired of their race and disappeared back into the depths which they had come, but the mother whale and the rest of the herd kept pace with them for the next three days, even stopping when the ship paused to run some drills and repair the jib boom. Many of the men having taken to picking out individuals and naming them; the whole crew after the first day had decided to call the mother whale "Lady Agitha" and her little one "Young Norburt".

Yet even they were eventually forced to part ways as the Dauntless prepared to change course and head north west to Jamaica. It was during that time that the crew had once again gathered on deck.

"Men, it is time for Madame Agitha and our friends to depart. Everyone say your good-byes." Gillette addressed them from the main deck, his hands clasped behind his back, Norrington remained on the quarterdeck with Groves two steps below him.

Many of the crew doffed their caps and hats in respect, while there were many yells of "Good bye my Lady!" "Take care Agitha, lov!" "Pleasant journeys to ya, Miss Agitha!" And even one "Don't be givin’ your mother any trouble now, you hear, young Norburt!"

"Watch out for Whalers!" Groves warned, while Gillette, bid them his own farewell. "Au revoir, Mademe. Peut le temps soit beau pour vous et votre petit!(1.)"

"It has been a pleasure, my Lady. Do take care," Norrington said after all the others fell silent. Stepping to the railing and properly sweeping off his hat, he gave the whale a dashing bow as he would to a high-born Lady. "May your journey be a safe and pleasant one."

Norrington remained by the railing; Groves and Gillette eventually joined him after most of the crew dispersed and went back to their regular duties, leaving the three officers still standing there in the late afternoon. Groves watched the whales go with a smile on his face as he leaned forward against the railing between his two friends, his dark eyes glowing a warm honey color in the light, lost in thought. As the three continued to watch the herd depart and Lady Agitha and young Norburt swim away, Norrington and Gillette shared a conpiratory look with one another behind Groves' back, emerald and dark chocolate eyes sparking in sudden mischief.

"That’s got to be the best whale I've ever seen," Norrington said in clear admiration, breaking the silence as they watched the animals move away.

Gillette nodding in all seriousness on Groves' other side. "So it would seem." Both men somehow kept a straight face even though their eyes sparkled in barely suppressed humor.

Groves, however, let his head drop with a groan, not even realizing just how much his expression mirrored James' that day as they watched Sparrow and Turner make off with the Interceptor. "You both are never going to let me live that down, are you?" He sighed heavely before pushing away from the railing, giving them both a glare before walking away. Both men turned and stared at one anther innocently before looking back and, sure enough, Groves was not out of ear shot when he heard them both chorus: "That’s got to be the best Lieutenant I've ever seen!" With the exception of a noticeable stiffening of the Lieutenant's shoulders, Groves continued to stalk away, stubbornly ignoring the snickering behind him. Soon the whales where gone, heading farther south to the Spanish controlled Americas and the great ship continued her journey home in the late afternoon light.

and edited by the lovely and talented Rennie (aka Rennie1265), I bow down to her vast knowledge and wonderful nit-picking. I love you! And shout out to Miss April Grant who originally betaed the first third of this chapter

Crack-drabble

Tue, 07 Aug 2007 19:47:51 GMT

A few little snippets if James Norrington, Jack Sparrow, Cutler Beckett, Mercer, Elizabeth and William Turner ever sat down and had dinner together. This crack-dribble came about after talking with ansketil_rose and reading her Beckington story. I'm stealing a few of her ideas ~_^. Forgive any spelling or grammer errors!

Five people sat around a large ornate dinning table, heavily laden with silverware, crystal and many specially prepared platters of food, a few servants waiting in the wings lest any of the odd assortment of guests at the table need anything.

Five people sat around a large ornate dinning table, heavily laden with silverware, crystal and many specially prepared platters of food, a few servants waiting in the wings lest any of the odd assortment of guests at the table need anything.

"Pass the salt, love,"

*the small crystal salt shaker went flying as Mercer ACCIDENTALLY knocks it off the table* "Shame that."

"Beckett snickers* "So, how does married life suit you, Mrs Turner?"

"Well enough..."

The pirate known as Captain Jack Sparrow, who had already finished two bottles of wine by himself, bored with the conversation and most of the company, had been shooting dreamily glances across the table at James Norrington most of the evening (who looked like he was attending his own funeral and desperately trying to get drunk), decided that a little game of footsie with his Jamie would be a perfect cure for his boredom as he picked at his food. Having already sculpted his mashed potatoes into something that looked vaguely like a pair of breasts, a small lonely green pea sitting atop each mound for decoration, having flicked the rest of his peas over the table at a very irritated Beckett earlier in the meal. The small Lord finally had enough when one particular green projectile got him in the eye before landing in his wine, luckily James and Elizabeth somehow managed to defuse the situation before the seething Beckett could order Mercer to disembowel the snickering pirate with a spoon.

With practice ease Jack slipped one of his boots off then leaned subtly (as he was capable of) forward as he took another long leisurely sip of his wine- which he wished was rum, as his moved his foot under the table before his wriggling toes encountered a warm leg. His dark eyes a glitter as they watched the glassy eyed Commodore knock back another glass of wine after rolling his eyes at something pretentious Elizabeth was telling the yawning Beckett.

Poor William meanwhile sat quietly eating, looking back and fourth at the five other occupants of the table conversed looking lost and confused for the most part, his eyebrows furrowed. And the few times he did attempted to say something or join the conversation Elizabeth would promptly lean over and offer him some more wine or food. On one occasion she actually shoved a roll into his mouth just as he was about utter anything to Beckett's sniffing about the bad quality of Port Royal's overall metal work before speaking for him. The four other men around the table unable to help but feel a moments pitty for the poor lad.

Meanwhile, in the middle of buttering a roll, one of Mercer's eyebrow went up at the feeling of an unknown foot rubbing suggestively up his leg. A quick glance to the assassin's right however showed that the cheeky foot did not belong to Beckett, who was apparently engaged in a rather snippy conversation on fashion with Miss Swan. Both somehow able to compare the other's taste in clothes to that of a common prostitute through overly polite complements as they shot one another deadly glares across the table, the poor floral center piece between them threatening to go up into flames at any moment. A glance to his left showed Norrington to be quite busy cutting his meat into very small uniform pieces, and young Will Turner looking as lost as ever, both men looking as if they would like to be anywhere but there, Mercer's dark eyes then narrowed and turned to the only other possible owner of the foot now rubbing his ankle.

Suddenly there was a heavy thump that made the table jump and everyone pause, this was followed by a pained yowl as Jack yanked back and clutched his throbbing foot, almost knocking over everyones glasses.

Dinner continued to be a tense and unpleasant affair as they made their way through the various courses, Elizabeth's and Beckett's conversation only getting more biting and back handed as the evening progressed.

"My! You certainly have had many interesting... business partners, Lord Beckett. I hear you have a veritable parade of various freaks and fiends through your office of late," Elizabeth noted, sipping at her wine and none to subtlety cutting her eyes in Mercer's silent direction before continuing. "You must be quite exhausted, why I'm surprised you can even sit down at all." Smiling sweetly before taking another dainty sip of wine.

"Why not at all, my dear!" Beckett purred cheerfully, even though his eyes would have turned her into a pile of ash if they had been lasers. "I'm actually quite picky about who I do business with. And my dear Mister Mercer here has been my personal fiend for quite some time. And unlike some, I only choose to.. work with the best of quality." He smiled just as sweetly back, cutting his eyes in William and Jack's direction before refilling his and Mercer's glasses. "So what's it like spreading your legs- pardon! *cough* What I meant to say; what's it like keeping the company of every filth encrusted pirate and decease ridden destitute in the Spanish Main, Miss Swan?"

Later that same evening....

James was beginging to list to one side in his chair, his green eyes glassy, the wine finally catching up with him, while Elizabeth pouted (Beckett having officailly won their earlier sniping contest), Mercer just sat there motionless looking off into space while William was beginging to nod off as Beckett snapped his fingers for dessert to finally be brought out.

Jack was searching the table around his area for something before looking up from looking around for the utensil he had misplaced (having forgotten that he had already pocketed it and most of the other valuable silverware in his general vicinity). "Anyone got a fork I can use?"

The answer was quick in coming...

"AHH!!" Jack somehow just barely managed to duck in time to avoid the fork that suddenly flew across the table and lodged its self in the high backed chair the pirate was sitting in. Everyone paused in their meal as the colorful pirate stared wide eyed at the still trembling piece of silverware before turning to look in Mercer's direction.

The hawkish clerk seemed nonplus, glancing around at the others around the table as if he couldn't fathom what ever was wrong. Surprisingly it was Beckett who spoke up.

"Really, Mister Mercer! You know better then that," he said, dabbing delicately at the corner of his mouth before looking at the assassin. "That was a desert fork. Mister Sparrow needs a salad fork." He tisked.

"Sorry Sir," Mercer apologized, not even blinking.

Jack promptly yelped again as a 'salad fork' thumped into the wood beside his head next to the first fork.

"Much better." Beckett purred happily, pouring him some more wine. While James, Elizabeth and William all knocked back a big gulp of their own wine as poor Jack sat up and tried to pull both forks out of his chair... Without success.

New place!

Tue, 07 Aug 2007 17:33:28 GMT

Well after a terrible time without internet access, a bed, and running around like a headless chicken, I'm FINALLY done moving into my new apartment! Yaaaaaaay! *proceeds to drop dead*

I'm now officially living in San Francisco! ^_^

O_o.... Now I have a ton of catching up to do.

Crap...

Fri, 22 Jun 2007 02:19:50 GMT

Whaaaa! I think I've scared off another beta-reader, this is like the fith one! *sigh* ~_~ My writing must really SUCK.

What do you guys think? Is it fairly safe to asume that after getting small portion of you fic betad, the date being 4/12/2007, and then hearing nothing after words (ie its now 6/21/2007 ). Is it safe to say that I've been dropped again?

Is this thing on?

Thu, 21 Jun 2007 04:38:53 GMT

Testing...testing... Ground control to major Tom? Is any one out there? Hellooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

P.S. Just testing to see if my journal is working ~_^.