The most talented of monkey's has finally turned her clever head in an Impverse direction.
And with such a fun, tongue-in-cheek beginning, too.
Love the slow piecing together of exactly how Sparrow comes to find himself in a lady's undergarment on a cold English beach. For a wonder, it's Sparrow, not Shaftoe, who's gotten into trouble due to ill-timed combustion.
Jackinashift is really no less comely than Jackinadress. And though he makes that silly promise never again to play the lass, not for anyone, however charming, strong, gorgeously muscled, sparkly-eyed, or bristle-bearded, well... I can't imagine he'll really hold to it. Not in the face of Jack Shaftoe.
And such an immediately appreciative Jack Shaftoe, too! I have a great fondness for a Shaftoe who doesn't have to be cajoled and teased and goaded and persuaded into Sparrow's clutches. I mean, really... when was the last time we saw Shaftoe pursuing and Sparrow reluctant?
He was awakened by the sound of a group of men failing to be stealthy. This line made me giggle. It's so perfectly Sparrow-via-monkey. Likewise Collaborative suicide seemed unlikely.
I'm so incredibly pleased to see your Jack Sparrow stepping into this particular playground, because he is such an Imp-ish Jack Sparrow, and his dry and hilarious observations (i.e. having frequently had cause to observe that the ones with the best muscles tended not to be the quickest reasoners) belong here (er... at impofperversity, that is).
He flashed Jack Shaftoe a virile grin, careful not to bat his eyelashes or simper in any way [...] Jack wondered if perhaps he'd batted his eyelashes without noticing. See what I mean? He just can't help it. Big, blond, glorious Jack is irresistible. Specially to Sparrows, specially when he turns on the charm. And so I can't help but leave this little beginning happily imagining the ways in which Shaftoe will wear down Sparrow's (albeit none-too-determined) resistance.
when was the last time we saw Shaftoe pursuing and Sparrow reluctant?
My feelings exactly. The whole of this story grew out of my attempt to set up a situation where Jack Sparrow would actually try to resist Jack Shaftoe. It was bloody hard to come up with anything, but I reckon the trauma of a particularly undignified marooning might keep our Jack on the straight and narrow. For a little while.
And so I can't help but leave this little beginning happily imagining the ways in which Shaftoe will wear down Sparrow's (albeit none-too-determined) resistance.
Imagine away! If you find yourself imagining anything you want to write down, that would be even much more better.
The most talented of monkey's has finally turned her clever head in an Impverse direction.
And with such a fun, tongue-in-cheek beginning, too.
Love the slow piecing together of exactly how Sparrow comes to find himself in a lady's undergarment on a cold English beach. For a wonder, it's Sparrow, not Shaftoe, who's gotten into trouble due to ill-timed combustion.
Jackinashift is really no less comely than Jackinadress. And though he makes that silly promise never again to play the lass, not for anyone, however charming, strong, gorgeously muscled, sparkly-eyed, or bristle-bearded, well... I can't imagine he'll really hold to it. Not in the face of Jack Shaftoe.
And such an immediately appreciative Jack Shaftoe, too! I have a great fondness for a Shaftoe who doesn't have to be cajoled and teased and goaded and persuaded into Sparrow's clutches. I mean, really... when was the last time we saw Shaftoe pursuing and Sparrow reluctant?
He was awakened by the sound of a group of men failing to be stealthy.
This line made me giggle. It's so perfectly Sparrow-via-monkey. Likewise Collaborative suicide seemed unlikely.
I'm so incredibly pleased to see your Jack Sparrow stepping into this particular playground, because he is such an Imp-ish Jack Sparrow, and his dry and hilarious observations (i.e. having frequently had cause to observe that the ones with the best muscles tended not to be the quickest reasoners) belong here (er... at impofperversity, that is).
He flashed Jack Shaftoe a virile grin, careful not to bat his eyelashes or simper in any way [...] Jack wondered if perhaps he'd batted his eyelashes without noticing.
See what I mean? He just can't help it. Big, blond, glorious Jack is irresistible. Specially to Sparrows, specially when he turns on the charm. And so I can't help but leave this little beginning happily imagining the ways in which Shaftoe will wear down Sparrow's (albeit none-too-determined) resistance.
Mmm... pretty.
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My feelings exactly. The whole of this story grew out of my attempt to set up a situation where Jack Sparrow would actually try to resist Jack Shaftoe. It was bloody hard to come up with anything, but I reckon the trauma of a particularly undignified marooning might keep our Jack on the straight and narrow. For a little while.
And so I can't help but leave this little beginning happily imagining the ways in which Shaftoe will wear down Sparrow's (albeit none-too-determined) resistance.
Imagine away! If you find yourself imagining anything you want to write down, that would be even much more better.
Reply
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