Drabble - Catharsis
Author: mamazano and danglingdingle
Title: The Opportune Moment
Rating: Gen
Characters: Jack Sparrow. Barbossa, Will Turner referenced
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with them
Words: 200
Prompt: Catharsis at jackwill
Note: A collaborative effort, 100 words from each of us, mished and mashed and mooshed together to create a double drabble. A cathartic moment that isn't. Until the opportune moment is NOT taken.
****
"Ten years you carry that pistol, and now you waste your shot?"
"He didn't waste it."
Jack slowly lowered the pistol, the smoke from his shot wreathing his head laurel-like, though there was no reason for triumph. His victory felt hollow.
Ten years he'd plotted and planned, dreamt of this moment. Jack stared at the lifeless body of Barbossa, the tickle of the burnt gunpowder in his nostrils, feeling all bitterness and hatred slip away as if it had never been there to begin with. It was over now. Done, and…Utterly meaningless.
Somewhere along the line the dream had changed. Plots and plans had been pushed aside, his priorities shuffled until they'd, inexorably, became equals in their importance. Vengeance, the heady fuel of the past ten years, lost its sweetness while bowing out in front of something much more compelling…
Jack sorted through the myriad of hoarded treasure, ignoring the twittering of his hands while keeping one eye on the young couple. What now? Would the boy seize the opportune moment? Was this fear he was feeling? Was there a shot Jack had wasted after all?
Indecision won out. Suddenly, there was a victory that didn't feel hollow at all.
****
Title: The Opportune Moment
Rating: Gen
Characters: Jack Sparrow. Barbossa, Will Turner referenced
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with them
Words: 200
Prompt: Catharsis at jackwill
Note: A collaborative effort, 100 words from each of us, mished and mashed and mooshed together to create a double drabble. A cathartic moment that isn't. Until the opportune moment is NOT taken.
****
"Ten years you carry that pistol, and now you waste your shot?"
"He didn't waste it."
Jack slowly lowered the pistol, the smoke from his shot wreathing his head laurel-like, though there was no reason for triumph. His victory felt hollow.
Ten years he'd plotted and planned, dreamt of this moment. Jack stared at the lifeless body of Barbossa, the tickle of the burnt gunpowder in his nostrils, feeling all bitterness and hatred slip away as if it had never been there to begin with. It was over now. Done, and…Utterly meaningless.
Somewhere along the line the dream had changed. Plots and plans had been pushed aside, his priorities shuffled until they'd, inexorably, became equals in their importance. Vengeance, the heady fuel of the past ten years, lost its sweetness while bowing out in front of something much more compelling…
Jack sorted through the myriad of hoarded treasure, ignoring the twittering of his hands while keeping one eye on the young couple. What now? Would the boy seize the opportune moment? Was this fear he was feeling? Was there a shot Jack had wasted after all?
Indecision won out. Suddenly, there was a victory that didn't feel hollow at all.
****