sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-02 03:15 pm
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-02 03:15 pm
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: Willful Commission, PG.
Your challenge is: Pick any of the crimes against the crown listed by Norrington and elaborate.
Warnings: None.
Also available at AO3.
Impersonation, Smuggling, Arson
You would have thought someone would have objected.
Their mother certainly should have, and their father probably would have, but Will Turner was off to England to sell swords at court, and so could not object, and Elizabeth Turner...
Well, she'd been raised on them herself, hadn't she? Stories of pirates.
Jack sat on a side-turned barrel, as filthy and bedecked and impenitent as ever, talking quite seriously -- or as seriously as he ever got -- with two young girls, completely identical, dressed in impeccable silk dresses.
Emily and Ellen, both age 8, loved their Uncle Jack Sparrow. Elizabeth's only caution was that Jack try not to mention whores until they were at least fourteen.
"So there we was," Jack said, "Bootstrap -- that's your granddad, as fine a man and pirate as ever lived -- all gussed up like a Cardinal, and Gillot, mayherestinpeace, and myself dressed as Clerics, with the sacks o'gunpowder and rum under our cassocks, like."
"But why gunpowder?" Ellen asked.
"Oh, this wasn't just any gunpowder. Finest Chinese gunpowder ever seen by man. Twice as powerful as t'other stuff, fetch a good price. And dressin' up was the only way, dontchesee, to get it to shore without bein' harassed. But then there was some da -- some bloo -- some holy saints' day, and we got called upon to join in at ther local temple'a worship. And they took us inside 'fore they'd let the crowd in. And there Gillot was, preparin' to swing the incense burner like the good C'o'E boy he was raised, when one of the altarboys gave 'im a hotfoot."
"What's a hotfoot?" Emily inquired.
"Er -- well, you rolls up a bit of paper and lights it, and sticks it under a man's shoe -- don't go tellin' yer dad I told you that," Jack added hurriedly. "Tennyrate, Bootstrap and I saw what was about, and you can bet we lit up out of that church like it was the doomsday..."
Jack paused to knuckle a tear of nostalgic joy out of his eye.
"It was the way he woulda wanted to go," he told them. "What with between the gunpowder sparking and the sacks 'a rum, Gillot went up like a Roman candle. Finest explosion I seen in all my born days. Burned the church right to the ground."
Elizabeth, passing the room in which Jack was minding the children, saw the wide eyes of the children and the dismayed look of their nanny, and smiled.
Warnings: None.
Also available at AO3.
Impersonation, Smuggling, Arson
You would have thought someone would have objected.
Their mother certainly should have, and their father probably would have, but Will Turner was off to England to sell swords at court, and so could not object, and Elizabeth Turner...
Well, she'd been raised on them herself, hadn't she? Stories of pirates.
Jack sat on a side-turned barrel, as filthy and bedecked and impenitent as ever, talking quite seriously -- or as seriously as he ever got -- with two young girls, completely identical, dressed in impeccable silk dresses.
Emily and Ellen, both age 8, loved their Uncle Jack Sparrow. Elizabeth's only caution was that Jack try not to mention whores until they were at least fourteen.
"So there we was," Jack said, "Bootstrap -- that's your granddad, as fine a man and pirate as ever lived -- all gussed up like a Cardinal, and Gillot, mayherestinpeace, and myself dressed as Clerics, with the sacks o'gunpowder and rum under our cassocks, like."
"But why gunpowder?" Ellen asked.
"Oh, this wasn't just any gunpowder. Finest Chinese gunpowder ever seen by man. Twice as powerful as t'other stuff, fetch a good price. And dressin' up was the only way, dontchesee, to get it to shore without bein' harassed. But then there was some da -- some bloo -- some holy saints' day, and we got called upon to join in at ther local temple'a worship. And they took us inside 'fore they'd let the crowd in. And there Gillot was, preparin' to swing the incense burner like the good C'o'E boy he was raised, when one of the altarboys gave 'im a hotfoot."
"What's a hotfoot?" Emily inquired.
"Er -- well, you rolls up a bit of paper and lights it, and sticks it under a man's shoe -- don't go tellin' yer dad I told you that," Jack added hurriedly. "Tennyrate, Bootstrap and I saw what was about, and you can bet we lit up out of that church like it was the doomsday..."
Jack paused to knuckle a tear of nostalgic joy out of his eye.
"It was the way he woulda wanted to go," he told them. "What with between the gunpowder sparking and the sacks 'a rum, Gillot went up like a Roman candle. Finest explosion I seen in all my born days. Burned the church right to the ground."
Elizabeth, passing the room in which Jack was minding the children, saw the wide eyes of the children and the dismayed look of their nanny, and smiled.
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