I weep for my fandom...
First time I've done something like this, but this fic really irked me.
TITLE: The Price of Rum Which has absolutely nothing to do with the story. But when have titles ever related to the story? Oh, that’s right, in good-fic.
CULPRIT: Lydia NightShade
SUMMARY: Slight AU: No skeletons, curses, or madly in love with Elizabeth. An old enemy of Jack (Barbossa) comes back into his life and trys to destroy the happy couple. I believe the term I’m looking for is ‘Uh-oh…’
BEST LINE: The one Author’s Note is a gem: I started writing it in June of 2003, before I saw the movie because I was just too anxious.
You started writing it before you saw the movie. Anyone know how that works? Anyone?
And another Author’s note: Yeah I know I doubt they talked like that in the 17th century but I’m utilizing my creative license dag nabbit! There. Are. No. Words.
THE VERDICT:
NAME: Will Turner
HAIR: “Silky curls”
EYES: Apparently, they’re beautiful. At least she doesn’t go on for a paragraph about what color they are…
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: None, but I think you’d be able to recognize him at fifty paces regardless.
OH SO SPESHUL POSSESSIONS: Jack’s Twu Luv. Save me. Or shoot me and put me out of my misery.
OBNOXIOUS AND/OR IMPLAUSIBLE ORIGIN: From the looks of things, from the depths of the brain of someone who thought that Will and Jack obviously foster undying love for each other. And likely only saw previews.
OBNOXIOUS AND/OR IMPLAUSIBLE CANON CONNECTIONS/AFFILIATIONS: He seems to share a name with one…because this Will Turner acts nothing like his canon counterpart…
SOOPER SPESHUL ABILITIES: Acting like a girl, and a particularly whiny one at that.
TRAGIC PAST: [optional] Whatever Tragic Past Will Turner had from the movies…forget it. Apparently, here his only tragic past is being a former blacksmith that was picked up in a pub by Captain Jack Sparrow. They had mad hot sex, and are now lovers on the Black Pearl. Apparently, this is covered in another of the author’s stories.
THE "PLOT": Let’s see…Jack and Will have sex…they have some more sex…Barbossa is apparently still alive and captures Will. Rape rape rape, torture torture torture, Robert’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt, eventually it all ends sadly and there’s a sappy epilogue. And through it all, I keep looking for shards of cannon; I'd even be satisfied with something vaguely ship-like. But no. Denied on all fronts.
I would like to say this one thing before we get started: I have no problems with slash-fic at all. None. However, I do have quite a few problems with inaccuracy and canon-raping. As well as the trivializing of rape in general. In five words or less: Slash fine. Bad Slash, not-fine.
Sporking with me today are two of my characters: Atlantis, a Navy captain, in blue, and Anthony, a pirate-turned-privateer, in red, both from a time-period that is approximately equivalent to the early 1800’s and the Age of Sail.
How did we get suckered into this?
Because if we didn’t, she’d write a slash fic.
Well, that’s not so -
About us.
Long pause.
*weakly* About us, you say? As in…You and me doing…
Yes, now shut up: I don’t want to think about it. On with the story.
Longer pause.
Anthony?
Considering my options here…
Anthony!
Alright, alright! On with the damn story… *grumbles* The things I do for your sensibilities…
Will looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this much contentment. How about that time on the fort with Elizabeth and the kiss…oh, no, that’s right, there’s no being “madly in love with Elizabeth” in this. It was early in the morning. He’d just finished making the bed after yet another night of passion. Jack had already gone above deck to run the ship for the day. Okay…good. A captain running the ship is good…This is the last bit of rationality we’re going to see in this fic, isn’t it? Pretty much. Do I at least get grog for my troubles? No. His fingers unconsciously moved to his recently pierced ear to toy with the gold hoop. That would hurt. A lot. I should know; I used to have one. And playing with a recent piercing is a very bad idea. You used to have a pierced ear? …in my younger, wilder years… That means you took it out yesterday, doesn’t it? *indistinct mumbling*
He smiled at the memory, it had been painful but it was finally official. Jack had marked him as his by giving him one of his earrings. Jack Sparrow wears earrings? Lemme check…Hm. Can’t tell. But with his hair…I doubt it. Now everyone would know they were together Given the time period, why would this be a good thing? Oh, that’s right: trying to apply logic here doesn’t work. and Will couldn’t be happier. Smiling like a Cheshire cat, Will snapped out of his revere and tied his hair back in his tell tale heart ponytail. He hurried up deck to report for his daily task. Just one? Damn, for that schedule… ‘Don’t want to be late’ If you’re not already on deck by the time the bell has rung the watch up…you already are he thought. Even though the crew knew of their relationship, Will didn’t want any of them thinking he was getting special treatment.
As he rounded the corner he bumped into Jack’s former second mate Gibbs?, before Will came along. But why would Will displace the mate from his position? Considering that Will knows nothing about sailing a ship…
“Oh, Craig Not Gibbs? …Why’s Gibbs gone?, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you.” (yes, just picture Craig Parker Who? I, um…I don’t think you want to know with long black hair and pirate garb) Ah, yes, description in a story: such a subtle thing, woven among the dialogue and the rest of the plot so that we gradually get a sense of what we’re looking at… *wakes up* Damn. That was a nice delusion.
“No worries mate. I see you got a new earring….I didn’t even know you had your ears pierced.”
“Oh,….yes.” Will replied his hand finding the earring once again. Is it really that hard to find? It’s a hunk of metal though your ear. I should think you’d be able to find it without groping.
“Well, I didn’t actually until last night. It’s one of Jack’s, he pierced it Jack pierced an earring? And this is why we are careful with pronouns… for me.” Wait…who’s saying this? She’s been good about starting a new paragraph each time the speaker changes… For these and other small mercies, Lord…
“Oh, I didn’t even realize, how nice.” Craig replied with a forced sweetness He sounds like a teenage girl. Of course. Because heaven forbid gay men should act like men! that, were Will not lost in memory again, would have picked up on.
“Well I must be going, I need to check in with Jack and find out what grueling task he wants me to perform today.” Will stated with a goodhearted laugh.
“Oh I’d hate to keep you two from each other, please go on. I have cooking duty again.” He sneered. Both: *dies laughing* Please tell me she’s kidding about the ‘cooking duty’. If not, I’d like to introduce her to the idea of a ship’s cook. Not that the ship’s cook can actually cook, but it’s the idea of it. You know what I just realized? Every line of that little exchange started with ‘Oh’ or ‘Well’. Three cheers for originality! Hip hip: …Huzzah? Something like that.
“Um, yes…thank you. I’m sure dinner will be wonderful You’re on a ship in about the 18th century. Therefore, dinner will be ship’s biscuits that could be used as bricks and are home to weevils and salted meat that’s too leathery to eat. And a ration of watered down rum, called grog, which is what you’ll live on the entire voyage. Here, here.” Will replied slightly put off by Craig’s apparent bitterness towards him. He shrugged it off and continued on his way. ‘He must be tired’ he thought.
*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~* Stars over waves? Nah, that’s giving her too much credit. She probably just saw someone else doing it, so she does it.
“What a day! If I didn’t know better love, sometimes I’d swear you wear trying to kill me. Oh, if only we could be so lucky. ” Will sighed as he flopped on their shared bed in Jack’s quarters. Lying on his back he regarded his lover with an off-handed curiosity You sure that’s the phrase you’re looking for? as Jack removed his boots and hat.
“Oh really? And who was the little former blacksmith that made such a fuss that I not treat him any different than the rest of the crew because,” he mocked a little whinny Where did the horse come from? Or should we say…hoarse? Anthony! voice “I want the crew to like meeeee!!!” He then proceeded to make a pouting face and pretend to wipe a tear away. Yes, because that sounds so very much like Will.
“SOD OFF YOU LOWSEY POOF!” So does this. And what is ‘Lowsey’? Of the factories at Lowell, cira 1845? Or, for that matter, ‘poof’? She seems to be using it in a…different context. Trust me, you don’t want to know. …Ah. Will laughed as he whipped a pillow at Jack’s head. (Yeah I know I doubt they talked like that in the 17th century but I’m utilizing my creative license dag nabbit! I think I hate you. You think you hate her?) Jack laughed and easily caught the pillow.
“Aww, did I hurt poor little Will’s feelings? He’s so dainty and fragile he can’t even handle real pirate work.” Jack ducked as yet another pillow went flying at his head.
“DAINTY?!! When was the last time you saw a blacksmith that was DAINTY?” True, but… Will squeaked …he kinda ruins it with the squeaking. And that sentence in general. in utter disbelief. Not realizing that squeaking wasn’t very manly. Or that fragments are very feminine? Jack put his finger to his chin in mock concentration.
“Hmmm, since the last time I was at port and I picked up this hot little blacksmith in a local pub. We had this unbelievable night of lovemaking and in the morning when I woke up I never wanted to leave He never wanted to leave the pub? Well, I guess he is Captain Sparrow…vaguely. If you squint and stick your fingers in your ears.” Oh, and Atlantis? Say hello to our backstory. It sounds…absolutely nothing like the movie. *points up to the AU claim* That doesn’t excuse this. Not really, no. But she sure thinks it does! He said as if it were some far off, silly memory. “He had the most beautiful eyes Which, I note, are never described. and a body that would make a god weep. Which god? See, different gods have different ideas of beauty. Wasn’t there that one Aztec god that mutilated himself…? You know, considering Aztec gods, that doesn’t narrow it down all that much.” Will blushed and smiled shyly lowering his head.
“You think I have beautiful eyes?” He asked dreamily the prior insult completely forgotten. Shouldn’t there be a line break right about here? In most cases, yes. But this one’s special. Jack turned to him and looked at him as if he were truly flabbergasted.
“My dear dainty boy….who said I was talking about you?” He then began grinning like a mad man at the absolute look of rage that appeared on his lover’s face. Yes, it would take a mad man to be pleased at a look of rage directed towards him…Or something like that.
“YOU SAUCY BASTARD!! YOU THINK THAT I WAS JUST WAITING AROUND FOR YOU ALL MY LIFE DON’T YOU?!” Please give the Capslock of Rage back to the Harry Potter Fandom. Thank you. He glanced down and looked back up with a look of utter frustration. His cock had - Don’t go there. Spoilsport. I’d like to stay sane, thank you. Then what on earth are you doing here? Remember the alternative? Would sex with me be all that bad? In a word, yes.
“What’s the matter love?” Jack asked trying his best not to laugh. You know, I think you’re right: there should be a line break here. Will turned away from him so his back was to Jack and huffed, then stated in a quiet voice.
“I’m all out of pillows.” There was a moment of silence before both burst into fits of laughter. Jack moved over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Will’s slender waist and held him tight. He kissed him tenderly on the cheek then tugged on the scarlet sash that Will always used to tie his hair back with. A…sash. A very long and wide piece of fabric. Well. I suppose that says something about Will’s hair. Or this author’s thesaurus. He undid the tie and ran his fingers through the silky curls and breathed in his lover’s scent. Which, considering that there’s no showers on a ship, Horatio Hornblower notwithstanding, wouldn’t be all that nice. Oh, right: reality does not apply here. I suppose they all smell like lilacs and ‘the sea’.
“I love your hair. I wish you could leave it down all day. What’d I say? ” He stated absentmindedly as he stroked Will’s hair.
“Why? So you could pet me like a dog all day?” He turned his head just enough so he could see realization dawn on Jack’s face, who stopped his hand and gave Will an annoyed smile.
“I see you’re still upset that I made you scrub the deck all day aren’t you?” He flat lined He died? He died!. Will gave Jack a ‘well obviously’ look and then turned his head away again. Jack handed the look back; he didn’t need it. He had his own looks. Jack smirked. He knew what his lover was trying to do. The rumbling foxtrot? ‘Alright, if that’s the way he wants to play it Like Mozart? Please tell me he’s playing it like Mozart. Anthony, that doesn’t even make sense. Neither does this fic., I’ll most certainly oblige.’
“Oh but Will, you know I only make you do those things so that I can have the pleasure of making it up to you later when we’re alone.” He purred into Will’s ear.
“Oh fabulous so all I have to do to get you to make love to me is to put in twelve hours of grueling labor. …Twelve hours? I…I’m not sure if I’m more outraged at the idea that it took him twelve hours to swab the deck, that he considers said swabbing to be ‘grueling labor’ when there’s always hauling up the sails, or that he worked his way through three straight watches when most sailors are only required to work one four-hour shift. Fantastic My sentiments exactly. And possibly in the same tone..”
Both: Thank you!
Annnd, that’s the end of the first part.
General rejoicing?
General rejoicing.
The first part that isn’t even all of the first chapter, of some seventeen chapters.
General whimpering?
Indeed.
TITLE: The Price of Rum Which has absolutely nothing to do with the story. But when have titles ever related to the story? Oh, that’s right, in good-fic.
CULPRIT: Lydia NightShade
SUMMARY: Slight AU: No skeletons, curses, or madly in love with Elizabeth. An old enemy of Jack (Barbossa) comes back into his life and trys to destroy the happy couple. I believe the term I’m looking for is ‘Uh-oh…’
BEST LINE: The one Author’s Note is a gem: I started writing it in June of 2003, before I saw the movie because I was just too anxious.
You started writing it before you saw the movie. Anyone know how that works? Anyone?
And another Author’s note: Yeah I know I doubt they talked like that in the 17th century but I’m utilizing my creative license dag nabbit! There. Are. No. Words.
THE VERDICT:
NAME: Will Turner
HAIR: “Silky curls”
EYES: Apparently, they’re beautiful. At least she doesn’t go on for a paragraph about what color they are…
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: None, but I think you’d be able to recognize him at fifty paces regardless.
OH SO SPESHUL POSSESSIONS: Jack’s Twu Luv. Save me. Or shoot me and put me out of my misery.
OBNOXIOUS AND/OR IMPLAUSIBLE ORIGIN: From the looks of things, from the depths of the brain of someone who thought that Will and Jack obviously foster undying love for each other. And likely only saw previews.
OBNOXIOUS AND/OR IMPLAUSIBLE CANON CONNECTIONS/AFFILIATIONS: He seems to share a name with one…because this Will Turner acts nothing like his canon counterpart…
SOOPER SPESHUL ABILITIES: Acting like a girl, and a particularly whiny one at that.
TRAGIC PAST: [optional] Whatever Tragic Past Will Turner had from the movies…forget it. Apparently, here his only tragic past is being a former blacksmith that was picked up in a pub by Captain Jack Sparrow. They had mad hot sex, and are now lovers on the Black Pearl. Apparently, this is covered in another of the author’s stories.
THE "PLOT": Let’s see…Jack and Will have sex…they have some more sex…Barbossa is apparently still alive and captures Will. Rape rape rape, torture torture torture, Robert’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt, eventually it all ends sadly and there’s a sappy epilogue. And through it all, I keep looking for shards of cannon; I'd even be satisfied with something vaguely ship-like. But no. Denied on all fronts.
I would like to say this one thing before we get started: I have no problems with slash-fic at all. None. However, I do have quite a few problems with inaccuracy and canon-raping. As well as the trivializing of rape in general. In five words or less: Slash fine. Bad Slash, not-fine.
Sporking with me today are two of my characters: Atlantis, a Navy captain, in blue, and Anthony, a pirate-turned-privateer, in red, both from a time-period that is approximately equivalent to the early 1800’s and the Age of Sail.
How did we get suckered into this?
Because if we didn’t, she’d write a slash fic.
Well, that’s not so -
About us.
Long pause.
*weakly* About us, you say? As in…You and me doing…
Yes, now shut up: I don’t want to think about it. On with the story.
Longer pause.
Anthony?
Considering my options here…
Anthony!
Alright, alright! On with the damn story… *grumbles* The things I do for your sensibilities…
Will looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this much contentment. How about that time on the fort with Elizabeth and the kiss…oh, no, that’s right, there’s no being “madly in love with Elizabeth” in this. It was early in the morning. He’d just finished making the bed after yet another night of passion. Jack had already gone above deck to run the ship for the day. Okay…good. A captain running the ship is good…This is the last bit of rationality we’re going to see in this fic, isn’t it? Pretty much. Do I at least get grog for my troubles? No. His fingers unconsciously moved to his recently pierced ear to toy with the gold hoop. That would hurt. A lot. I should know; I used to have one. And playing with a recent piercing is a very bad idea. You used to have a pierced ear? …in my younger, wilder years… That means you took it out yesterday, doesn’t it? *indistinct mumbling*
He smiled at the memory, it had been painful but it was finally official. Jack had marked him as his by giving him one of his earrings. Jack Sparrow wears earrings? Lemme check…Hm. Can’t tell. But with his hair…I doubt it. Now everyone would know they were together Given the time period, why would this be a good thing? Oh, that’s right: trying to apply logic here doesn’t work. and Will couldn’t be happier. Smiling like a Cheshire cat, Will snapped out of his revere and tied his hair back in his tell tale heart ponytail. He hurried up deck to report for his daily task. Just one? Damn, for that schedule… ‘Don’t want to be late’ If you’re not already on deck by the time the bell has rung the watch up…you already are he thought. Even though the crew knew of their relationship, Will didn’t want any of them thinking he was getting special treatment.
As he rounded the corner he bumped into Jack’s former second mate Gibbs?, before Will came along. But why would Will displace the mate from his position? Considering that Will knows nothing about sailing a ship…
“Oh, Craig Not Gibbs? …Why’s Gibbs gone?, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you.” (yes, just picture Craig Parker Who? I, um…I don’t think you want to know with long black hair and pirate garb) Ah, yes, description in a story: such a subtle thing, woven among the dialogue and the rest of the plot so that we gradually get a sense of what we’re looking at… *wakes up* Damn. That was a nice delusion.
“No worries mate. I see you got a new earring….I didn’t even know you had your ears pierced.”
“Oh,….yes.” Will replied his hand finding the earring once again. Is it really that hard to find? It’s a hunk of metal though your ear. I should think you’d be able to find it without groping.
“Well, I didn’t actually until last night. It’s one of Jack’s, he pierced it Jack pierced an earring? And this is why we are careful with pronouns… for me.” Wait…who’s saying this? She’s been good about starting a new paragraph each time the speaker changes… For these and other small mercies, Lord…
“Oh, I didn’t even realize, how nice.” Craig replied with a forced sweetness He sounds like a teenage girl. Of course. Because heaven forbid gay men should act like men! that, were Will not lost in memory again, would have picked up on.
“Well I must be going, I need to check in with Jack and find out what grueling task he wants me to perform today.” Will stated with a goodhearted laugh.
“Oh I’d hate to keep you two from each other, please go on. I have cooking duty again.” He sneered. Both: *dies laughing* Please tell me she’s kidding about the ‘cooking duty’. If not, I’d like to introduce her to the idea of a ship’s cook. Not that the ship’s cook can actually cook, but it’s the idea of it. You know what I just realized? Every line of that little exchange started with ‘Oh’ or ‘Well’. Three cheers for originality! Hip hip: …Huzzah? Something like that.
“Um, yes…thank you. I’m sure dinner will be wonderful You’re on a ship in about the 18th century. Therefore, dinner will be ship’s biscuits that could be used as bricks and are home to weevils and salted meat that’s too leathery to eat. And a ration of watered down rum, called grog, which is what you’ll live on the entire voyage. Here, here.” Will replied slightly put off by Craig’s apparent bitterness towards him. He shrugged it off and continued on his way. ‘He must be tired’ he thought.
*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~* Stars over waves? Nah, that’s giving her too much credit. She probably just saw someone else doing it, so she does it.
“What a day! If I didn’t know better love, sometimes I’d swear you wear trying to kill me. Oh, if only we could be so lucky. ” Will sighed as he flopped on their shared bed in Jack’s quarters. Lying on his back he regarded his lover with an off-handed curiosity You sure that’s the phrase you’re looking for? as Jack removed his boots and hat.
“Oh really? And who was the little former blacksmith that made such a fuss that I not treat him any different than the rest of the crew because,” he mocked a little whinny Where did the horse come from? Or should we say…hoarse? Anthony! voice “I want the crew to like meeeee!!!” He then proceeded to make a pouting face and pretend to wipe a tear away. Yes, because that sounds so very much like Will.
“SOD OFF YOU LOWSEY POOF!” So does this. And what is ‘Lowsey’? Of the factories at Lowell, cira 1845? Or, for that matter, ‘poof’? She seems to be using it in a…different context. Trust me, you don’t want to know. …Ah. Will laughed as he whipped a pillow at Jack’s head. (Yeah I know I doubt they talked like that in the 17th century but I’m utilizing my creative license dag nabbit! I think I hate you. You think you hate her?) Jack laughed and easily caught the pillow.
“Aww, did I hurt poor little Will’s feelings? He’s so dainty and fragile he can’t even handle real pirate work.” Jack ducked as yet another pillow went flying at his head.
“DAINTY?!! When was the last time you saw a blacksmith that was DAINTY?” True, but… Will squeaked …he kinda ruins it with the squeaking. And that sentence in general. in utter disbelief. Not realizing that squeaking wasn’t very manly. Or that fragments are very feminine? Jack put his finger to his chin in mock concentration.
“Hmmm, since the last time I was at port and I picked up this hot little blacksmith in a local pub. We had this unbelievable night of lovemaking and in the morning when I woke up I never wanted to leave He never wanted to leave the pub? Well, I guess he is Captain Sparrow…vaguely. If you squint and stick your fingers in your ears.” Oh, and Atlantis? Say hello to our backstory. It sounds…absolutely nothing like the movie. *points up to the AU claim* That doesn’t excuse this. Not really, no. But she sure thinks it does! He said as if it were some far off, silly memory. “He had the most beautiful eyes Which, I note, are never described. and a body that would make a god weep. Which god? See, different gods have different ideas of beauty. Wasn’t there that one Aztec god that mutilated himself…? You know, considering Aztec gods, that doesn’t narrow it down all that much.” Will blushed and smiled shyly lowering his head.
“You think I have beautiful eyes?” He asked dreamily the prior insult completely forgotten. Shouldn’t there be a line break right about here? In most cases, yes. But this one’s special. Jack turned to him and looked at him as if he were truly flabbergasted.
“My dear dainty boy….who said I was talking about you?” He then began grinning like a mad man at the absolute look of rage that appeared on his lover’s face. Yes, it would take a mad man to be pleased at a look of rage directed towards him…Or something like that.
“YOU SAUCY BASTARD!! YOU THINK THAT I WAS JUST WAITING AROUND FOR YOU ALL MY LIFE DON’T YOU?!” Please give the Capslock of Rage back to the Harry Potter Fandom. Thank you. He glanced down and looked back up with a look of utter frustration. His cock had - Don’t go there. Spoilsport. I’d like to stay sane, thank you. Then what on earth are you doing here? Remember the alternative? Would sex with me be all that bad? In a word, yes.
“What’s the matter love?” Jack asked trying his best not to laugh. You know, I think you’re right: there should be a line break here. Will turned away from him so his back was to Jack and huffed, then stated in a quiet voice.
“I’m all out of pillows.” There was a moment of silence before both burst into fits of laughter. Jack moved over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Will’s slender waist and held him tight. He kissed him tenderly on the cheek then tugged on the scarlet sash that Will always used to tie his hair back with. A…sash. A very long and wide piece of fabric. Well. I suppose that says something about Will’s hair. Or this author’s thesaurus. He undid the tie and ran his fingers through the silky curls and breathed in his lover’s scent. Which, considering that there’s no showers on a ship, Horatio Hornblower notwithstanding, wouldn’t be all that nice. Oh, right: reality does not apply here. I suppose they all smell like lilacs and ‘the sea’.
“I love your hair. I wish you could leave it down all day. What’d I say? ” He stated absentmindedly as he stroked Will’s hair.
“Why? So you could pet me like a dog all day?” He turned his head just enough so he could see realization dawn on Jack’s face, who stopped his hand and gave Will an annoyed smile.
“I see you’re still upset that I made you scrub the deck all day aren’t you?” He flat lined He died? He died!. Will gave Jack a ‘well obviously’ look and then turned his head away again. Jack handed the look back; he didn’t need it. He had his own looks. Jack smirked. He knew what his lover was trying to do. The rumbling foxtrot? ‘Alright, if that’s the way he wants to play it Like Mozart? Please tell me he’s playing it like Mozart. Anthony, that doesn’t even make sense. Neither does this fic., I’ll most certainly oblige.’
“Oh but Will, you know I only make you do those things so that I can have the pleasure of making it up to you later when we’re alone.” He purred into Will’s ear.
“Oh fabulous so all I have to do to get you to make love to me is to put in twelve hours of grueling labor. …Twelve hours? I…I’m not sure if I’m more outraged at the idea that it took him twelve hours to swab the deck, that he considers said swabbing to be ‘grueling labor’ when there’s always hauling up the sails, or that he worked his way through three straight watches when most sailors are only required to work one four-hour shift. Fantastic My sentiments exactly. And possibly in the same tone..”
Both: Thank you!
Annnd, that’s the end of the first part.
General rejoicing?
General rejoicing.
The first part that isn’t even all of the first chapter, of some seventeen chapters.
General whimpering?
Indeed.