The Shipwreck Begins Ch.1-3
Earlier that day…
The dreadlocked and gold toothed pirate seemed unfazed by the atrocious stench his accuser wore heavy as a muddy pig. The large accuser dangled him above the ground by his shirt. Jack merely looked offended and hurt. If you were to witness the scene you might even be inclined to think large oafish men silently threatened him with bodily harm everyday. Jack frowned, "Cheating? Do I look like the sort o' man who would cheat?"
"As matter o' fact YEH DO!" roared the oafish man spittle flying from his mouth. The pirate flashed his gold teeth and glanced around at the men sitting at card table.
"Yes, but everyone here looks like the sort who would cheat-" The card game participants rose from their chairs. Jack held up his hands. "-but I'm sure none of us are."
His accuser looked hard at everyone seated. He sent one man into a fit of nervous feminine giggling, another inched his chair away slowly, and yet another gripped his bottle of rum cracking the glass.
"Right..." agreed the stinky man setting Jack back into his chair. Jack grinned and took his cards up again. The card game resumed in room thirteen of the Black Dog Inn.
" It seems gents…I've won again!" grinned Jack triumphantly spreading his cards on the table. Groans of frustration filled the room. Clunks and thumps sounded as the losers tossed in whatever they had bet. There were earrings, pocket watches, a bejeweled goblet, coins, and even a cane with an silver handle, among other things. Jack swept them all into a sack. The stinky man slumped back into his chair, worry on his face. There was a knock on the door.
“Anyone want to get that?" said Jack stretching like a cat. A cat who was named after a bird and had just snared a very fat rat and the cream.
"It's your room.” said a thin, almost skeletal man slumping in his chair. “You answer it!"
Another man slumped in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. He grumbled in the most slumpy way possible. “Get yer own door.” It was a most undeniable time for slumping.
"I'll give back whatever they lost to whoever opens the door."
A scramble started and Jack smiled as his guests fought over the doorknob. The oafish one won with a quick jab to the skeleton thin one’s nose. The door opened and there stood an old man with a very large nose and a rather ill-kept wig. Jack and his chair fell backward. The large nosed man sniffed, and blew his nose before sighing, “His most dishonorable, the ever notorious…though no one has ever heard of him…Captain Snaffoam.”
He stepped aside, but no one came forward. He sighed heavily and looked over his shoulder. Jack swept his scattered winnings back into his sack, tossed a few odd things towards the stinky man’s way before blasting through the balcony doors, over the rail and down the leafy plant life clinging to the inn.
Jack scurried into an alley way and dove behind an old, left behind, piece of canvas. He waited, but the familiar thudding of boots and firing did not come. That meant one of two things. Either Snaffoam had yet to initiate the chase or Jack was hidden better than he had thought. He crawled out from the canvas, stretched and dusted himself off. Jack put his hat on and wrinkled his nose. It had acquired a fish and wet rat smell. He retrieved his sack, slung it over his shoulder and turned a corner humming softly.
A small round object, bejeweled with tiny gems, plonked out of his sack. The goblet rolled down the slant of the street. He scurried after it, sack on shoulder , bent over, hand outstretched, "Oy, goblet! C' mere!"
He dashed down after it focusing on his prize. "No, no, no, not down the-" He halted, letting the goblet fall into the hands of a young boy. He winced as he saw his lovely new goblet picked up by a little urchin with red hair. The boy waved it above his head and ran down the street shouting, “Charlie! Charlie! Have a look at this!”
Well, at least some of his winnings would go towards a worthy cause. Jack smiled at the thought and headed towards his beloved Black Pearl.
Chapter 3: The Nameless Island
The H.M.S Faithful had not been, well, faithful. It had been it’s maiden voyage and one tantrum on a supernatural toddler’s part had been enough to send it picnicking with fishes and sea slugs. Thankfully, most of the crew made it safely to civilized shores. The two that hadn’t found themselves in quite a predicament.
The sun twisted down white, ocean and sky were an untainted blue, and waves gently touched the island stopping short of two pairs of black booted feet. They were miserable. Not the boots, but the men wearing them. Actually, Mullroy was miserable. Murtogg was more optimistic.
He sat and wondered what a tiny hermit crab was thinking. He’d always thought crabs were funny things. They had two pinchy claws, skinny legs, and strange black eyes sticking out of their shell. He hadn’t ever had the chance to look at them as long as he liked. Of course, he’d never been shipwrecked before either. They were on a pitiful island fourteen paces long and 10 paces wide. There were a few hermit crabs shuffled in the white sand, bits of coral, and around the remains of a fire that had long since burned out and not much else.
"Look what I did, Mully!" shouted Murtogg. Mullroy pulled his black tri-cornered hat off his face, opened his eyes, sat up and uninterestedly gazed at the collection of shells and wet sand his friend had assembled into a tiny naval fort. It was complete with tiny stone cannons and seaweed soldiers.
"That's nice." Mullroy said before falling backward onto the sand and pulling his hat back over his eyes. Murtogg crawled away from his fort and waited for him to say something else. He didn’t. Murtogg stared at a patch of horizon before speaking again. “So...what do you think we should do now?"
"We could start by building a boat,” mumbled Mullroy. His hat was still over his face.
"I don't think we can,” frowned Murtogg. “No wood."
"We could...sew a sail."
"We don't have any needles.” sighed Murtogg looking at the remains of the fire.
"We could knock coconuts down."
“ We don’t have a tree,” explained Murtogg. Mullroy sat up, his hat fell into his lap, he looked to the left, then to the right. No coconut trees.
“Where are we anyway?" asked Murtogg staring at the same patch of horizon as before.
"An island so small I doubt it has a name.”
Murtogg straightened his slouch and smiled, “We should name it!"
"Name what?"
"The island."
Mullroy raised an eyebrow and stared. "Name something because it hasn't one?"
"Yes." nodded Murtogg enthusiastically setting a hermit crab on his fort and nudging it towards a second. The two crabs were very confused and didn't know how to escape. “ Do you think the small one will fight the big one and take over it's little shell home?"
"That's not very nice..." said Mullroy frowning at the little scene.
"What isn't very nice?" asked Murtogg poking the hermit crabs a bit closer together. The two scuttled into their shells and cowered in fear at the strange two legged creature with the menacing seashell. They had never seen such a thing before. “What do you think of Mullroy’s Spit?”
“You’re naming it after me?” asked Mullroy happily. Murtogg nodded prodding the two shaking shells closer. Mullroy grinned. “Aw, thank you, Murtogg! Not many can say their friends name islands after their spit.”
“Do you think the crabs have swords when they fight?”
Mullroy rolled his eyes. It would be the first of many occasions. When he was satisfied he had rolled enough for that instance he blinked. What was that? He shielded his eyes in an attempt to block out the glare of the sun and looked to the horizon. Could it be? “It is!" . He whipped off his hat and began waving it about. “It’s a-a-ship! Over here! Over here!”
Murtogg looked up from his fort and the crabs. His face broke into a grin. He began waving his hat around. “Think we should alert the commodore?” He took off his coat and waved it around realizing it was a much more effective way to be seen than his small black three-cornered hat.
“Very funny, he wasn’t on the Faithful and even if he was he isn’t here now, is he?”
“Oh.” Murtogg began jumping up and down, coat over his head, jumping between every word he said. “Hey-hey-over-here!”
Mullroy’s head bobbed up and down as he watched his friend bounce, “Why…are you doing that?”
“I’m-doing-it-so-they-can-see-us-better!” Mullroy considered his point, nodded in understanding then began doing the same. Mullroy squinted trying to get a better look at it as they hopped excitably.
His smile melted off silently as a faintly familiar sight slid into view. He lowered his hat. It was ship with midnight sails. A figure head maiden stood under the bowsprit with hands outstretched ready to free a bird spreading it’s wings. It sliced through the clear waters like a well-sharpened sword through butter. It was smaller than the galleons laden down with gold from the New World or the ships of the British Fleet. It was swift, designed for out maneuvering and outwitting.
Once a captain that did not deserve his title or the beauty of a ship that had been marred by his unappreciative care had guided it. Now, as it should have been for the last ten years, at the helm was someone who understood her, who truly cared, who had for too long been deprived of his rightful place and title he had earned in her name.
Chapter4
Note: I started writing Shipwreck:Murtogg and Mullroy before there was even a whisper of the two turning pirate, because I thought it was the most unlikely thing. After At World's End, I decided to look over it again. It had been my first long PotC fanfic so naturally, I loved it and hated it to bits.It was unacceptable, it would all have to be redone! And that, my dear reader is what I have before you now...
The dreadlocked and gold toothed pirate seemed unfazed by the atrocious stench his accuser wore heavy as a muddy pig. The large accuser dangled him above the ground by his shirt. Jack merely looked offended and hurt. If you were to witness the scene you might even be inclined to think large oafish men silently threatened him with bodily harm everyday. Jack frowned, "Cheating? Do I look like the sort o' man who would cheat?"
"As matter o' fact YEH DO!" roared the oafish man spittle flying from his mouth. The pirate flashed his gold teeth and glanced around at the men sitting at card table.
"Yes, but everyone here looks like the sort who would cheat-" The card game participants rose from their chairs. Jack held up his hands. "-but I'm sure none of us are."
His accuser looked hard at everyone seated. He sent one man into a fit of nervous feminine giggling, another inched his chair away slowly, and yet another gripped his bottle of rum cracking the glass.
"Right..." agreed the stinky man setting Jack back into his chair. Jack grinned and took his cards up again. The card game resumed in room thirteen of the Black Dog Inn.
" It seems gents…I've won again!" grinned Jack triumphantly spreading his cards on the table. Groans of frustration filled the room. Clunks and thumps sounded as the losers tossed in whatever they had bet. There were earrings, pocket watches, a bejeweled goblet, coins, and even a cane with an silver handle, among other things. Jack swept them all into a sack. The stinky man slumped back into his chair, worry on his face. There was a knock on the door.
“Anyone want to get that?" said Jack stretching like a cat. A cat who was named after a bird and had just snared a very fat rat and the cream.
"It's your room.” said a thin, almost skeletal man slumping in his chair. “You answer it!"
Another man slumped in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. He grumbled in the most slumpy way possible. “Get yer own door.” It was a most undeniable time for slumping.
"I'll give back whatever they lost to whoever opens the door."
A scramble started and Jack smiled as his guests fought over the doorknob. The oafish one won with a quick jab to the skeleton thin one’s nose. The door opened and there stood an old man with a very large nose and a rather ill-kept wig. Jack and his chair fell backward. The large nosed man sniffed, and blew his nose before sighing, “His most dishonorable, the ever notorious…though no one has ever heard of him…Captain Snaffoam.”
He stepped aside, but no one came forward. He sighed heavily and looked over his shoulder. Jack swept his scattered winnings back into his sack, tossed a few odd things towards the stinky man’s way before blasting through the balcony doors, over the rail and down the leafy plant life clinging to the inn.
Jack scurried into an alley way and dove behind an old, left behind, piece of canvas. He waited, but the familiar thudding of boots and firing did not come. That meant one of two things. Either Snaffoam had yet to initiate the chase or Jack was hidden better than he had thought. He crawled out from the canvas, stretched and dusted himself off. Jack put his hat on and wrinkled his nose. It had acquired a fish and wet rat smell. He retrieved his sack, slung it over his shoulder and turned a corner humming softly.
A small round object, bejeweled with tiny gems, plonked out of his sack. The goblet rolled down the slant of the street. He scurried after it, sack on shoulder , bent over, hand outstretched, "Oy, goblet! C' mere!"
He dashed down after it focusing on his prize. "No, no, no, not down the-" He halted, letting the goblet fall into the hands of a young boy. He winced as he saw his lovely new goblet picked up by a little urchin with red hair. The boy waved it above his head and ran down the street shouting, “Charlie! Charlie! Have a look at this!”
Well, at least some of his winnings would go towards a worthy cause. Jack smiled at the thought and headed towards his beloved Black Pearl.
Chapter 3: The Nameless Island
The H.M.S Faithful had not been, well, faithful. It had been it’s maiden voyage and one tantrum on a supernatural toddler’s part had been enough to send it picnicking with fishes and sea slugs. Thankfully, most of the crew made it safely to civilized shores. The two that hadn’t found themselves in quite a predicament.
The sun twisted down white, ocean and sky were an untainted blue, and waves gently touched the island stopping short of two pairs of black booted feet. They were miserable. Not the boots, but the men wearing them. Actually, Mullroy was miserable. Murtogg was more optimistic.
He sat and wondered what a tiny hermit crab was thinking. He’d always thought crabs were funny things. They had two pinchy claws, skinny legs, and strange black eyes sticking out of their shell. He hadn’t ever had the chance to look at them as long as he liked. Of course, he’d never been shipwrecked before either. They were on a pitiful island fourteen paces long and 10 paces wide. There were a few hermit crabs shuffled in the white sand, bits of coral, and around the remains of a fire that had long since burned out and not much else.
"Look what I did, Mully!" shouted Murtogg. Mullroy pulled his black tri-cornered hat off his face, opened his eyes, sat up and uninterestedly gazed at the collection of shells and wet sand his friend had assembled into a tiny naval fort. It was complete with tiny stone cannons and seaweed soldiers.
"That's nice." Mullroy said before falling backward onto the sand and pulling his hat back over his eyes. Murtogg crawled away from his fort and waited for him to say something else. He didn’t. Murtogg stared at a patch of horizon before speaking again. “So...what do you think we should do now?"
"We could start by building a boat,” mumbled Mullroy. His hat was still over his face.
"I don't think we can,” frowned Murtogg. “No wood."
"We could...sew a sail."
"We don't have any needles.” sighed Murtogg looking at the remains of the fire.
"We could knock coconuts down."
“ We don’t have a tree,” explained Murtogg. Mullroy sat up, his hat fell into his lap, he looked to the left, then to the right. No coconut trees.
“Where are we anyway?" asked Murtogg staring at the same patch of horizon as before.
"An island so small I doubt it has a name.”
Murtogg straightened his slouch and smiled, “We should name it!"
"Name what?"
"The island."
Mullroy raised an eyebrow and stared. "Name something because it hasn't one?"
"Yes." nodded Murtogg enthusiastically setting a hermit crab on his fort and nudging it towards a second. The two crabs were very confused and didn't know how to escape. “ Do you think the small one will fight the big one and take over it's little shell home?"
"That's not very nice..." said Mullroy frowning at the little scene.
"What isn't very nice?" asked Murtogg poking the hermit crabs a bit closer together. The two scuttled into their shells and cowered in fear at the strange two legged creature with the menacing seashell. They had never seen such a thing before. “What do you think of Mullroy’s Spit?”
“You’re naming it after me?” asked Mullroy happily. Murtogg nodded prodding the two shaking shells closer. Mullroy grinned. “Aw, thank you, Murtogg! Not many can say their friends name islands after their spit.”
“Do you think the crabs have swords when they fight?”
Mullroy rolled his eyes. It would be the first of many occasions. When he was satisfied he had rolled enough for that instance he blinked. What was that? He shielded his eyes in an attempt to block out the glare of the sun and looked to the horizon. Could it be? “It is!" . He whipped off his hat and began waving it about. “It’s a-a-ship! Over here! Over here!”
Murtogg looked up from his fort and the crabs. His face broke into a grin. He began waving his hat around. “Think we should alert the commodore?” He took off his coat and waved it around realizing it was a much more effective way to be seen than his small black three-cornered hat.
“Very funny, he wasn’t on the Faithful and even if he was he isn’t here now, is he?”
“Oh.” Murtogg began jumping up and down, coat over his head, jumping between every word he said. “Hey-hey-over-here!”
Mullroy’s head bobbed up and down as he watched his friend bounce, “Why…are you doing that?”
“I’m-doing-it-so-they-can-see-us-better!” Mullroy considered his point, nodded in understanding then began doing the same. Mullroy squinted trying to get a better look at it as they hopped excitably.
His smile melted off silently as a faintly familiar sight slid into view. He lowered his hat. It was ship with midnight sails. A figure head maiden stood under the bowsprit with hands outstretched ready to free a bird spreading it’s wings. It sliced through the clear waters like a well-sharpened sword through butter. It was smaller than the galleons laden down with gold from the New World or the ships of the British Fleet. It was swift, designed for out maneuvering and outwitting.
Once a captain that did not deserve his title or the beauty of a ship that had been marred by his unappreciative care had guided it. Now, as it should have been for the last ten years, at the helm was someone who understood her, who truly cared, who had for too long been deprived of his rightful place and title he had earned in her name.
Chapter4
Note: I started writing Shipwreck:Murtogg and Mullroy before there was even a whisper of the two turning pirate, because I thought it was the most unlikely thing. After At World's End, I decided to look over it again. It had been my first long PotC fanfic so naturally, I loved it and hated it to bits.It was unacceptable, it would all have to be redone! And that, my dear reader is what I have before you now...