sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-02 03:16 pm
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-02 03:16 pm
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: No Truth At All. PG
Your challenge is: Pick any of the scars, the brand, the tat OR Jack's skull ring. How did Jack come by 'em? Elaborate.
Warnings: None.
Also available at AO3.
The Skull Ring
They'd made him wash. Not even just wash. Scrub.
Jack was nineteen and had been to India and China, so he couldn't say that the warehouse had more silk than he'd seen in his entire life, but it was the most silk he'd ever seen in England at one time.
He shrugged. He had the gold to pay for a silk dress if a silk dress was wanted. And for flowers. And a cart. It wasn't the money that bothered him. He liked spending money on women. That was what women were for.
(All right, that certainly wasn't what women were for, but sex or dresses, either way one had to spend money, and money he had to spare after the last berth he'd taken on a very successful pirate schooner.)
It was the bathing that had bothered him. The smell kept fleas away, he'd argued. She'd argued back that the smell would keep anything away.
For a whore, she certainly was making a big deal out of marriage, he decided.
She was an easy wench to please, however, and he did love her after a fashion, and thought it would be sort of amusing to have a wife. Bootstrap had a wife, and didn't seem to mind much.
Then the morning of the wedding came, and with it came a small, effeminate man carrying a case full of sharp objects.
"What's all this then?" Jack asked interestedly, peering at the scissors and razors and knives. "New 'aircut for the bride?"
"For the groom, sir," the man said, neatly laying them out. "We are going to have a shave and a clip, sir."
Jack stared at him.
"But...but that's m'hair," he said, one hand rising protectively to cover the fledgeling dredlocks. Bootstrap had only put them in a few months ago, and he'd been adding beads and bits of this-and-that ever since to make it look really authentically pirate.
"And very...interesting hair it is too," the man said. "But all this...flummery with bangles and all...not at all appropriate for married life."
Jack bolted.
Bootstrap was waiting for him aboard the Bon Chance, their ship. He smiled when he saw Jack step into the tiny cabin, still dressed in his groom's outfit.
"Knew you wouldn't take to it," he said. Jack shed what he could of the stiff, uncomfortable clothing, taking some well-worn and pleasantly filthy clothing from Bootstrap's locker. He found the wedding rings in his pocket and tossed them to Bootstrap.
"Melt'em down," he said. "And put 'em in a knife handle and if I ever, ever try that again, stab me wiv it."
Bootstrap grinned and tossed him something small and silvery, that was hard against his palm when he caught it.
"Y'aren't a pirate till you've left at least one woman you loved on account of loving a ship more," he said. Jack looked down at the small ring in his hand. It was silver, with a skull on it. It grinned at him.
He grinned back, and slipped it over his index finger.
"Now let's get the hell out of port before she comes looking for you," Bootstrap added, rising and walking towards deck, to give the order to cast off.
Warnings: None.
Also available at AO3.
The Skull Ring
They'd made him wash. Not even just wash. Scrub.
Jack was nineteen and had been to India and China, so he couldn't say that the warehouse had more silk than he'd seen in his entire life, but it was the most silk he'd ever seen in England at one time.
He shrugged. He had the gold to pay for a silk dress if a silk dress was wanted. And for flowers. And a cart. It wasn't the money that bothered him. He liked spending money on women. That was what women were for.
(All right, that certainly wasn't what women were for, but sex or dresses, either way one had to spend money, and money he had to spare after the last berth he'd taken on a very successful pirate schooner.)
It was the bathing that had bothered him. The smell kept fleas away, he'd argued. She'd argued back that the smell would keep anything away.
For a whore, she certainly was making a big deal out of marriage, he decided.
She was an easy wench to please, however, and he did love her after a fashion, and thought it would be sort of amusing to have a wife. Bootstrap had a wife, and didn't seem to mind much.
Then the morning of the wedding came, and with it came a small, effeminate man carrying a case full of sharp objects.
"What's all this then?" Jack asked interestedly, peering at the scissors and razors and knives. "New 'aircut for the bride?"
"For the groom, sir," the man said, neatly laying them out. "We are going to have a shave and a clip, sir."
Jack stared at him.
"But...but that's m'hair," he said, one hand rising protectively to cover the fledgeling dredlocks. Bootstrap had only put them in a few months ago, and he'd been adding beads and bits of this-and-that ever since to make it look really authentically pirate.
"And very...interesting hair it is too," the man said. "But all this...flummery with bangles and all...not at all appropriate for married life."
Jack bolted.
Bootstrap was waiting for him aboard the Bon Chance, their ship. He smiled when he saw Jack step into the tiny cabin, still dressed in his groom's outfit.
"Knew you wouldn't take to it," he said. Jack shed what he could of the stiff, uncomfortable clothing, taking some well-worn and pleasantly filthy clothing from Bootstrap's locker. He found the wedding rings in his pocket and tossed them to Bootstrap.
"Melt'em down," he said. "And put 'em in a knife handle and if I ever, ever try that again, stab me wiv it."
Bootstrap grinned and tossed him something small and silvery, that was hard against his palm when he caught it.
"Y'aren't a pirate till you've left at least one woman you loved on account of loving a ship more," he said. Jack looked down at the small ring in his hand. It was silver, with a skull on it. It grinned at him.
He grinned back, and slipped it over his index finger.
"Now let's get the hell out of port before she comes looking for you," Bootstrap added, rising and walking towards deck, to give the order to cast off.
no subject
... And shedding that stiff clothing, too, but we're not gonna go into that right now, 'cause I'm at school.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2006-09-11 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)