first ficlet
My first post here. Hope it's allright rule-wise and all. :P
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Title: What Do You Do With a 50ft Woman?
Characters: Ragetti, Pintel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 202
Prompt Word: At Wit's End
Kneeling. Aye, that seemed like a wise choice considering the fine mess they were in.
They were all going to die. All of them.
Pintel cursed under his breath, staring fixedly at the dark wood of the deck. It was creaking in a threatening manner under all the weight. He couldn't stop thinking it. They were all dead. If She didn't sink them, the Armada and the Dutchman would.
Bloody hell. He could've thought of better ways to end than this.
A nudge in the ribs distracted the paranoid rat running circles in his mind. Pintel glared over at Ragetti. "Wot?" he hissed, keeping his voice under Barbossa's.
"W-We's . . . We's goin' t' die anyhows . . . s-so . . ."
Ragetti made a motion with his head. Pintel frowned, not following it and not in the mood to play guessing games.
"The hell you on about?"
Ragetti tilted his head more meaningfully, rolling his one eye for emphasis. Pintel's scowl only deepened until it hit him. He grinned slowly.
What the hell. They had nothing else to lose at this point.
Somehow suppressing hysterics, Ragetti and Pintel tilted their heads at just the right angle and looked up.
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Title: What Do You Do With a 50ft Woman?
Characters: Ragetti, Pintel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 202
Prompt Word: At Wit's End
Kneeling. Aye, that seemed like a wise choice considering the fine mess they were in.
They were all going to die. All of them.
Pintel cursed under his breath, staring fixedly at the dark wood of the deck. It was creaking in a threatening manner under all the weight. He couldn't stop thinking it. They were all dead. If She didn't sink them, the Armada and the Dutchman would.
Bloody hell. He could've thought of better ways to end than this.
A nudge in the ribs distracted the paranoid rat running circles in his mind. Pintel glared over at Ragetti. "Wot?" he hissed, keeping his voice under Barbossa's.
"W-We's . . . We's goin' t' die anyhows . . . s-so . . ."
Ragetti made a motion with his head. Pintel frowned, not following it and not in the mood to play guessing games.
"The hell you on about?"
Ragetti tilted his head more meaningfully, rolling his one eye for emphasis. Pintel's scowl only deepened until it hit him. He grinned slowly.
What the hell. They had nothing else to lose at this point.
Somehow suppressing hysterics, Ragetti and Pintel tilted their heads at just the right angle and looked up.