Lisa
Many apologies for the lack of Sue yesterday. I would say that Catherine Swann and that scary-ass trollfic (which is, thankfully, gone now) broke me for a while, but my pain threshold is actually higher than that. In actuality, my computer is just a thing of evil that would not allow me to go online. Anyways, I'll do two Sues tommorow since it's a little late in the day to ask people to deal with Double Sueage.
Without further ado, I give you yet another "This is not a Mary-Sue" Sue. I have a ton of these.
TITLE: Lisa's Sparrow
CULPRIT: Sayanna The Rover
SUMMARY: "NOT A MARY-SUE! Namely a Jack SparrowOC romance...Lisa seems to have fallen into the movie. (score!) But while she digs Cap'n Sparrow, Will never fails to piss her off....at least, she thinks he does....please r & r"
BEST LINE: "The purple cotton sheets of her bedspread chafed her skin as she wriggled around a bit, striving to free herself from the dry, deserts of tangled fabric that stifled her movements. She gave up after a few unsuccessful twists and turns, in which she miraculously only managed to further entwine her tired body among the dimly color bursting cloth." At least the fact that sheets are purple is fitting.
THE VERDICT
It's a short drop and a sudden stop for you.
NAME: Lisa
EYES: "sharp, crystalline blue eyes" As we're told over and over and over and over and over again.
HAIR: "milky blonde hair that usually held tongues of golden highlights" "naturally curly" "rippling in ringlets about her head" "her eyelashes were thick and curly, they were a light blonde that demanded to be clad in rich, darker shades of brown or black so that they were noticeable- luckily her eyebrows didn't need the same attention and were dark of their own accord" I wonder if she realizes that people with naturally blond hair generally have blond eyebrows, as well.
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: none
OH SO SPESHUL POSSESSIONS: none
OBNOXIOUS AND/OR IMPLAUSIBLE ORIGIN: A modern girl who wakes up in the movie. When will people stop doing this idiocy? It's stupid, it's uninteresting, and no one has ever written a good one.
OBNOXIOUS AND/OR IMPLAUSIBLE CANON CONNECTIONS/AFFILIATIONS: Lust object of both Jack and Will.
SOOPER SPESHUL ABILITIES: Being obnoxious enough to make me want to write a PPC just so I could kill her myself.
THE "PLOT": Sue has a wet dream, wakes up in Tortuga just as Jack and Will have gotten there. She's harassed by a drunk (aren't they all?) saved by Jack and then they makeout in an alley. Sue joins Will and Jack for no apparent reason with absolutely no discussion of what use she could possibly be or why she would want to come along at all. Whatever. Anyway, Sue and Will hate each other because of the burning sexual tension *headdesk*. Sue also thinks that she could "whup his ass any day of the week." She's supposed to have a "fiery spirit" and "sharp wit." What. thefuck. Ever.
There's an inane love triangle between Will, Sue, and Jack. Wherein Will wants to protect Sue from Jack's womanizing because for some reason, even though they met her on Tortuga and she immediately took up with Jack he's under the impression that she is a respectable woman and not a prostitute. Besides that idiocy, the rest of the story is just Sue tagging along for the movie and every once in a while disrupting or otherwise changing scenes so that she may be shoehorned in. Like I didn't hate her enough before. There's no need to pull a Lana.
Her disruptions so far:
1) Throwing an extra bucket of water on Gibbs.
2) Washing the pigs for reasons I just can't fathom.
3) Steals Jack's "No that one I deserved." line in the confrontation with Anamaria.
4) Joining in with assuring Anamaria that she'll get a new, better boat.
5) Making Gibbs say: "No, no, no, no, no, its frightful bad luck to bring more 'en one woman aboard, sir."
NOTES: The Sue is apparently an insertion of a friend of hers. I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse. The prose in this story is so purple it's giving off an ultraviolet glow.
Sue also has a "clever" and "sarcastic" inner monologue going that she's always laughing to herself about. It's really, really annoying since the things she says are never, ever clever or funny. She likes to constantly comment on the hygiene of everyone around her, but conveniently forgets that Jack, himself, is as dirty as any other pirate, probably didn't exactly smell like a bed of roses, and, apparently, had chronic halitosis.
The longer I read this story the more I want to jump into it and throttle Sue for being such an obnoxious bitch.
In other news:
In addition to Jack's nummy orbs, Will has gained eyes of chocolate, as well. They're also coffee and grease-colored. Anamaria is both "Ana Maria" and "Annemarie." And in chapter one the author also takes a little time to bash movie!Legolas; a favored antifangirl!Fangirl pastime.
LisaSue scored 70 on the PotC Litmus Test. But I gave her an extra 37 points for being bitchy, trying and failing to be snarky, and just being generally annoying. So consider that 107.
This author also has a LotR Sue: "Despite a hellish childhood and odd family arrangements, Jesse kind of figured she was different. Though she dwelt on her precious dreams, it never struck her that such things come at a price. It All begins in Rohan. A Mary-Sue? don't make me laugh"
Once again I wonder if these people actually understand what a Mary-Sue is.
EXCERPT:
Chapter One: In Which Sue Has A Wet Dream, Has A Fight To The Death With Her Sheets, Likes Someone Named 'Johnny Dep', and Curses A Whole Bunch
Night and night again, he came to her...his husky breath whispering across her skin with the aroma of thickened brandy drifting across her senses with his mouth only a few agonizing millimeters away from her own luscious, tangy lips. And that's where it all would begin.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
"God damn it!!" Lisa swore. She knew it had been too good to be true! Fuck! Only a few minutes more and she would have had him between her legs. The purple cotton sheets of her bedspread chafed her skin as she wriggled around a bit, striving to free herself from the dry, deserts of tangled fabric that stifled her movements. She gave up after a few unsuccessful twists and turns, in which she miraculously only managed to further entwine her tired body among the dimly color bursting cloth.
"Damn bed sheets," she grumbled to no one inparticular, before rolling over and giving into exhaustion, "Jesus, I wish I could torment people by choking them to death in their sleep," she mused sarcastically, referring, of course, to the constricting bed spread that continued to pool about her.
She remained motionless for a time, studying the various shades of romantically hued purples and splashes of shadow about the walls of her bedroom. Her bunk bed gave full view to the domain of her bedroom, which consisted of a labyrinth of what appeared to be debris spread out across her carpet. In reality, it was only the stuff that she could never find room for in her closet at the far corner of the room, let alone find the time to shove it under the bottom bunk of her bed to join the countless other cascades of 'junk' and lost treasures.
She huffed a lock of hair out of her face airily; cleaning just wasn't her thing. By the time she actually did manage to spruce things up a bit, she would absently leave things around to be put away 'just a little later'. Before she knew it, the silver dust would collect and she would be left staring at the same, messy room. Right where she started from. So why bother? She could remember where she left things (usually) so why waste all that effort and time in the mockery of being organized when it just not who she was in the long run- let alone couldn't find shit when her things were put away in the 'proper' place.
Her eyes drifted across the crisp posters and photographs featuring America's Favorite Red-head and the scattering of mint-fresh license plates that displayed the same. Bouquets of cream-slurred colors, made hazy in the cinnamon light emanating from her window located below the ground floor only seemed to add to her already heavy-lidded gaze. She could barely keep her eyes open.
With her last fizzle of energy, she glanced toward the poster that hung on the wall directly across from her, where it was easily hidden when the door slammed open in due cause from herself or her younger siblings. Unlike the others, this poster (as well as a few, select others) featured someone other than the 'I Love Lucy' starlet- it was of the all time sexiest man of all time (except for the character of Aragorn in Lord of The Rings, she inwardly mused). Johnny Dep.a.k.a. Captain Jack Sparrow in the hit new movie 'Pirates of The Caribbean: The Curse of The Black Pearl'.
She had seen the film about seven times now-and counting- at least until they ripped it out of theatres for good. While most of her friends drooled over Orlando Bloom (or 'Lego-butt' as some fondly referred to him) she only had eyes for the hunk of a guy who possessed enough dry wit, humor, and sex appeal to keep up with her. Sure, Bloom wasn't bad looking or anything as for how young actors go-heck- it was an upgrade in this movie to see him with his darker, natural locks and some facial hair than that God-awful blonde, braided wig thingy that made him look like a friggen' girl or something. But still- she figured 'just gimme the gorgeous nature boy that's not afraid of a little filth and rot and nobody gets hurt' kind of thing. If you wanted a man, why not go all out for the real thing?
She snuggled more into the now-damp bedding as she settled down to catch a few more hours of sleep. The light fragrance of salty perspiration was delicately evaporating away- its presence having come from that heavenly erotic dream she had just been having only moments ago.
She yawned sleepily; so what had woken her up? She would've blamed the hamsters that she had had at one point, if she hadn't thrown them out the window at another. The damn things kept 'squeaka squeaka-ing' all night long in their stupid little rolly wheel chambers. That, and the fact that they wouldn't quit trying to bite her when she fed them or tried to cuddle them sealed their fate.
So what was it? Couldn't have been her alarm clock, it hadn't gone off or anything yet.maybe someone from upstairs was thumping around on the floor boards on their way to get a glass of warm milk or something.maybe that was it.yeah maybe. Lisa drifted back to sleep, less moody than she had been previously due to the promises of heavy dreams sure to follow in her path on her way to slumber land.
However, in the darkness curled up just outside her windowpane, beyond where the waxy-looking plants of tulips and whatnot grew out from the moist soil and earth, something moved. In the darkness, something moved.and something watched.
A/N.hehehe, quite the cliffhanger, doncha think? Yes, I know I'm evil for leaving you like this, No, actually, evil for writing this shit in the first place. but I promise to get the rest of the story out (either one or two more chappies- can't decide yet) BEFORE THE 24TH...LoL in the meantime- you can stew until then, and feel free to review or send in any ideas you might have 'cause I'll consider them.yuppers.Okay doeky, until next time then = )
Chapter Two: In Which Sue Wakes Up In Tortuga, Is Sexually Harassed, Then Molests Jack In An Alley
The mist of darkness and veiling shadow continuously lurked by the frosted window-dawn was not far off. The ever-watchful eyes that resembled chips of ice with their depth and chilling cold stare was of sharp, utter focus when drifting over the rumpled form of a sixteen year old tangled within her purple bed sheets. A hiss of breathe escaped, bred of frustration and something much more potent
. could it be desire.?
.or something much more raw.?
Puffs of air that floated softly as a butterfly's sigh shivered over the plants, clammy to the touch when drifting across an emerald surface fastened by the beads of dew drops. Dawn was too near.
The eyes and shadow dispersed; leaving behind a golden, rounded surface of a coin, which gleamed dully where the cinnamon light passed over the crude- jagged image of a skull and crossed bones etched across it.It lay there.
Was it waiting for something?
Or was something else? * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Whether it was from the corset or the thick heat of the sultry air she was not certain, but she could hardly breath. A dim confusion in collection as to where she was and why the hell she was wearing an outdated brassiere that cut into her sides while it hugged her voluptuous form flowed gently at the back of her mind; like a cool, peaceful river swallowing her senses whole.
Lisa's sharp, crystalline blue eyes devoured her oddly familiar surroundings, almost causing her to sway with the full weight of de-ja-vu pounding within her blood at the sights, sounds, and smells of it all. Soft whispers of twilight gently caressed themselves over and away from the horizon, falling away back into the sea. Heated- raucous laughter, roasted meats, and sugared delights of both rum and fruits tainted the salt-sprayed air of the Caribbean.
Ramshackle buildings of time-slicked wood and stone perched drunkenly amid the inevitable darkness of night; lanterns flickered lazy patterns both across and throughout the district and illuminated the midnight-kissed alley-ways and taverns that basked within the waking shadows of evening.
Lisa slowly became aware of these surroundings at the same time she had become aware of her painfully tight dress that threatened to smother her with its maroon velvet that shimmered capes of blue at every ruffle and fold when hit by the musty candle light about her. God, she was gonna suffocate in this thing.! She pawed at it for a minute, then became aware of another slight distress-or more of an annoying hindrance by the feel of it.
Her milky blonde hair that usually held tongues of golden highlights throughout was starched and piled high in audacious, stiff curls. The fact that her hair tended to be naturally curly didn't really bother her, assuming that there was a hair-straightener in sight and within reach. But that fact that it was rippling in ringlets about her head with a starchy layer of what she could only guess was hairspray was asking a bit much. Make that way, way a bit too much.
She was tempted to tear at it with her nails, but stopped when the fingers of her left hand realized that they grasped the moth-y bejeweled fabric and wooden frame of a 17th fan. Alllright.that would have been considered weird if her mind wasn't so foggy and in a haze while pirates, whores, and ill-delighting sailors pressed about her in sweltering crowds.
She strove to understand.
But she could remember nothing. Not of where she was nor how she came to be there.
She vaguely wondered if she wore mascara, and debated that if it were present it would melt away or not (While her eyelashes were thick and curly, they were a light blonde that demanded to be clad in rich, darker shades of brown or black so that they were noticeable- luckily her eyebrows didn't need the same attention and were dark of their own accord).
She would have felt lost amidst her surroundings of sweaty flesh, her own burning lungs, and humidity of the night were it not for the familiarity of a voice nearby that drew in her attention.She listened intently, ignoring the perfume of acidic smoke drifting out of the barrels of pistols fired by some drunk idling on a balcony and that of the mingling scents of wild flowers nearby.
She came idly out of her reverie for a moment, thinking ' Jesus, I wish I was some dumb-ass drunk who didn't know what the fuck I was doing because I apparently drowned in a liquor barrel'.her sarcastic musings drifted away as she regained focus on the fast approaching voice that practically tasted so familiar, something ached inside of her.
."If every island were like this one, no man would ever feel unwanted.".
It almost had the flavor of cool honey, and she could hardly stand it. She thrust her way through the crowds that looked as though they could swallow her whole, and ignored the leering glances sallow-faced men that cast her freshly cut eyes of dry enticement. She had to find him.She must find him.
"Scarlet!"
A meaty thud, akin to that of a slap perhaps from across a cheek, reached her echoed past her dripping pearl earrings.
"Not sure I deserved that."
She knew him! She had heard this all before.somewhere.A dry chuckle escaped her throat as a remembrance slowly ebbed across her mind.
"Giselle!"
"Who was she?!" Another meaty thud-thicker and richer than the last. Bubbles of excitement and humor swirled within Lisa, making her feel as a bottle of champaign.
And she was something to be intoxicateing; was as artfully shaped as any glass bottle to be found.and a thirst was no stranger to her either.
"I may have deserved that."
So damn close! She could see him through the bustling crowds.Rich locks of midnight black tied back by a greasy bandana, surmounted by a seasonally chewed leather hat. Dark, hooded, chocolate eyes so deep, she could fall into them. She silently swore under her breath. Strands of shape and faded color were the beads from select locks in his mane that cascaded downward in twists and turns. A man stood behind him, and Lisa knew him to be Will Turner, but she took little notice of him in light of the pirate before her.
He began to turn about and stalk through the crowd as taking part in some crazy waltz while his companion followed after him at a steadier pace. Through the ripples of shaded mahogany and salt tinged swallows of human skin patting the air she followed as well.
As she rounded the bend she found him alone, unaccompanied by another, and took the opportunity as a stroke of luck while she took in the scenery of the ramshackle stables filled with musty hay in the alley way.at least until she felt the press of cold steel against her throat. A rough arm encircled her waist, pressing Lisa up against something or more like someone, that was obviously a stranger to bathing. Oh yuck!
"Mmm, youse smell good little girl." his foul, whiskey thickened breathe patted against his victims ear, and this pissed Lisa off to no end; not only was her Jack Sparrow a few precious feet away (and counting) and out of her reach, some fucking moron had the balls to feel her up in the dark while cackling on about her being a 'little girl' .her mind had completely cleared by this time of any remaining 'dream-like-fuzz-; that had still been swirling about her brain earlier. She was 16, a good height of about 5' 7'' and yet dumb-asses (such as the twit behind her with the raunchy breathe) would still refer to her as 'little'.good lord, half the time she was taller than those same dip wads.!
Looking back on this current situation, this pirate guy behind her must have been drunker, or just plain stupider than she had first perceived 'cause he still hadn't picked up the warning signals as to how pissed and high-strung she was right now (yeah she was afraid-who wouldn't be with a knife at your neck?! But stress and anger are NOT a good combination when you're rooting for the other team-just ask any female) and was getting ready to kick some ass when suddenly.
"Hullo, mate. What've we got 'round here?"
Lisa met Jack's gaze, calmly trying to rationalize the situation. Great. Her crush was going to save her. Not the lasting impression she had been hoping to leave the guy with, but whatever worked to get a certain jack- ass's hands and weapons away from her at the moment.
"Nun or yer damn business.naw get off with yer, savy?" Jack rolled his eyes heavenward as if seeking help. He was treading on thin ice on the moment, and could only count on the fact that his daft opponent was too incredibly drunk for this little trick to fail. His eyes darted to those of the teenager opposite him or a split second; as well as assuming the younger chit opposite him would comply with her fiery little spirit that he had glimpsed moments before-he couldn't swing this alone- he needed her cooperation.
Jack snapped his furtive, coal black eyes back to his opponent and clicked his tongue obnoxiously. All the while sidling up to the delirious pirate and his prey.
"tsk, tsk, tsk, mate. 'O course its my business when it comes to bein' 'round here with you and your," he clapped his hand on the other man's shoulder and gestured to Lisa with a flick of his head, "acquaintance." He grinned wolfishly for a moment, secretly hoping that the little minx was catching on to his plan by now.
Jack clapped him on the shoulder again, and led the man away from his intended victim unconsciously as he mocked friendship and advice by upbraiding him gently.
"Now, now, mate. Surely you don't think you're being too hard on the lass, do ya?"
"Well..er..I surppose that I was..er." Jack drew his hands away using them to make elaborate gestures as his gaze turned away from the drunkard and out at the crisp stars that shown starkly in the cape of night.
" You see, mate; you never let women get the upper hand. Oh, sure, you can get away with letting them think that I suppose, but really." All the while, the other man goggled his eyes toward Jack Sparrow as she continued the lecture, having forgotten that he had let the adolescent escape while trying to learn from his new comrade. That's why he never knew what hit him was Lisa swung an old flower pot (which had sat precariously on a boarded up window ledge nearby within the alley) and cracked it over his skull. Jack heard the crash but preferred to continue his lecture-enjoying himself too much not to.
".when it all comes down to it a female is a helpless thing that needs to feel possessed by a force stronger 'en by herself should they ever get into a dangerous situation." He turned back toward the unconscious pirate that lay brokenly on the floor like some rag doll, throwing his hands out toward him as if to prove an illustrious point "savy?"
Lisa snorted, and dropped what few shards she had left from holding the flower pot before stepping over her previous captor as if he were a pile of distasteful manure. Jack watched her curiously for a moment; his plan had come out better than he had first perceived. Obviously, this girl had some guts about her.
However, he never expected her to pounce. She had grabbed to lapels of his shirt, shoved him against one of the stables that lay listlessly in the alley, and crushed her lips to his own.
Of course it shocked the hell out of him, but he found himself reacting nonetheless as he reacted only as a man could do in the possible situation. He grasped her by the waist and hips in return before deepeneing the kiss, and she made no objection as his tongue slipped across her lips and into her mouth. Her hands tangled into his midnight locks, and she moaned as she felt him against her thighs through the thick fabrics that constricted each other from another's flesh. His mouth left her own to trail open mouthed kisses down her neck, but she wasn't through playing the seductress just yet. She slid her right hand away from his thick, curlying mane, trailing it along his body until she came into contact with what she wanted.
He gave a ragged gasp of pleasure and surprise until Lisa recaptured his mouth, drinking him in, as she continued her delicious torment in which she grasped his full throbbing member through his straining breeches. He unconsciously thrust his hips toward her own, freeing himself from her touch (lest he lose total control at the feel of her.) and ground his hips against her own, letting her feel the length of his arousal.
It was then that Will, who had went ahead, not realizing what had taken place let alone that he had been separated from Captain Jack Sparrow, returned around the bend in the alley way and stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw. His jaw would have dropped open if he had let it. There was Jack, entangled by the arms of a woman who was probably no older than he himself. Lisa caught sight of their little audience when her eyes had peaked open to see Jack's reaction when she had started sucking on his tongue. She sighed inwardly, and quickly ripped herself away from her beloved's warm embraces. Her aroused body protested the sudden loneliness that it experienced, but gained control over herself. She smiled and curtsied to jack, who seemed bemused, aroused, and shockingly entertained all in one go as their bodies broke contact and he sized her up once more with a growing respect toward her character (among other things).
"I thank you for saving me, Captain jack Sparrow." When Lisa caught sight of the growing puzzlement shifting over his facial features (she had broken an erotic kiss to thank him?!) she glanced over pointedly toward Will, and Jack followed suite. He straightened up from where he had been pinned by the strong-willed girl-no-woman in front of him and kissed her hand slyly.
"Pleasure is mine, lass." Will looked somewhat calmer from his place in the shadows, but still retained somehow gave himself away in trying to seem relaxed when he was rather shocked. Bowing gallantly, Jack took Lisa on his arm and led her over toward Will. Her crystalline, blue eyes smiled along with her lips as they approached; trying to hide the smugness she felt after experiencing THAT. She still, of course, had no idea how she had suddenly morphed into this ' pirates of the Caribbean' movie, but she sure as hell wasn't complaining! Not even close.her mind had cleared considerably, but certain answers still eluded her.
Ah, well my lad, I'd like you to meet." Lisa cut in for him, curtsying toward Will as she supplied an answer. " Lisa. And I'm pleased to meet you both." Will bobbed his head toward her in response, still a bit dumbfounded after that display, but retained his manners nonetheless.
"The Pleasure is mine, Miss Lisa."
A/N whew! That's a long chapter.hope you guys liked it!! More is sure to come so just hang on and be patient..oh, and please don't hesitate to send in a review!!! Thanks = )
Chapter Four: In Which Sue Refers To Will As Lego-butt
Jack arose leisurely from the lacquered chair, and offered a hand in mockery of the proper gentleman to the young lady beside him. Lisa smiled a bit at the gesture, and accepted his offer of helping her from her seat; the flickering lights within the tavern playing across her features in the most seductive, and mischievous of ways.
Gibbs followed suit, hastily arising in courtesy toward the lovely woman present, although he managed to practically knock over his chair from the affects of the alcohol he had consumed. He straightened it quickly, trying to ignore his bumbling, graceless movements as he gave a hurried, respectful nod toward Lisa, and winked cheekily at Jack before he strutted away through the ripe-smelling crowd, with the intention of getting down to business for the morrow.
Feigning disinterest, Lisa quirked her crystalline eyes after the husky pirate, keeping her knowledge on the outcome of events a secret-or at least at the opportune moment. Until then, if ever, she would have to act the part of the knowledge less maiden over key events.
"What was that about, Captain Sparrow?" he narrowed his eyes silkily at her, drinking in her form as she gazed bemusedly after the receding buccaneer.
"Nothin' ter worry your pretty little head about, Lass." She glanced over at Jack, an eyebrow delicately quirked upwards in a questioning.
"Hey, since I'm heading off with you and Will," she nodded her head in Turner's direction, who continued to lean up against the shadowed, worn door-frame, "on this little venture, I'm pretty sure it IS somewhat my business. So spill it."
Jack laughed softly; he genuinely like this girl-a fiery little minx like this was bound to make life rather interesting, if not more memorable. The thought of her accompanying them on such a breathless voyage sounded, 'pleasant' (he smiled inwardly) although the thought of 'spilling it' to her was not quite in his plans. Not yet anyway. . . . .
Drawing her nearer, he gave her hand a lingering kiss, grinning up at her face cattily.
"All in good time, Lisa, all in good time. . . ." He glanced over toward William, and gave a knowing smirk.
"Would you mind very much bringing over mister Turner? He's done an admirable job as look-out, although, he has permission to leave his post . . ." Lisa laughed quietly,
"Yeah, really. Just hang on a sec. . .Captain." She released the last bit of her words with a sexual purr, then slipped from her soon-to-be-lover's grasp as she made her way toward the black smith's apprentice, who stoically took in his chaotic surroundings amidst the decaying, putrid scents of the tavern and its festering inhabitants. Jack looked after her, lust melding through his heated gaze, anticipating what was sure to come later that evening while his eyes trailed after the seductive sway of her hips at present. . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Hey, Will." He turned his head at the sound of a familiar voice, but continued his easy stance in the door. He was in no mood to banter words with the chit-he wanted nothing to do with her, and made it painfully clear as he commenced to ignore her.
Thoughts drifted toward that of Miss Swan. . . . his Elizabeth. Lord only knew what she could be suffering at this moment at the hands of a merciless band of pirates, while he was stuck here, waiting, hardly close to rescuing the lady of his dreams back from Barbossa's bloodthirsty crew.
"Yo-Lego-butt, I'm talking to you here," Lisa snapped her fingers under his nose, impatiently trying to recapture his attention. She wasn't exactly thrilled at having to interact with the guy either, but made due. The sooner she got Will to pay attention long enough so that he'd haul it back with her and Jack, the sooner they could leave.
Will looked over at her distractedly, perturbed at having been interrupted from his private musings once more and insulted as. . . . . wait. What?
"What was that you called me?" Lisa crossed her arm over her chest, and rolled her eyes at the stubborn young man. Oohh, big mistake-just what she needed to see, a mealy looking rodent skittering across the grit covered floorboards from the corner of her vision. She recoiled slightly, but recomposed herself in a flash. 'This place is just too gross!'
"Lego-butt. Any way, Jack wants to see you. So you're off sentry duty." 'and a nice job you made of it too, by-the-by. . .how could any one be THAT gullible? Wonders never cease.' she mused. Will narrowed his eyes at her, scowling slightly at her demeanor. His chocolate brown eyes burned dangerously for a moment, before giving it up and moodily lapsing back into his casual, good-nature.
"What is its meaning?" he stretched a bit, flashing Lisa an inquisitive glance as he did, and let up leaning on the rotting doorframe; though giving no other movement, intending to remain where he was until he received an answer, being curious of the girl's response. Seeing through to his intentions, Lisa shrugged carelessly and gave answer as she re-crossed her arms.
"You remind me of this one guy a friend of mine has a crush on-and her nickname for him is 'Lego-butt'.
"Intriguing," he replied a little sarcastically with the hint of a smile gracing his features, and steadily made his way toward Captain Sparrow. She rolled her eyes for the second time. 'Good lord, it wasn't a compliment dumb-ass.' She made to head back as well, but something caught her eye as she turned.
'Hey, it's Will's latest girlfriend,' she mused, and waved at the seemingly drugged whore who had been falling all over Will earlier. Half stoned from consuming vast quantities of rum, the pasty looking prostitute grinned stupidly, displaying liquorices colored teeth as she waved back with a clay mug in a dirty fist and gurgled back a tittering giggle.
"And THAT displays the importance of dentistry, children" she muttered under her breath, and walked toward the two awaiting gentlemen who patiently spoke together in low tone of voices.
From Chapter Five: In Which Will Rhapsodizes About Sue Because Love-Hate Relationships Don't Already Annoy Me Enough When There Aren't Any Sues Involved
Feast your eyes, Captain. All of them, faithful hands before the mast, every man worth his salt and crazy to boot."
'Well no shit Sherlock; these guys have GOT to be a few tacos shy of a picnic if they're willing to go to the 'Island of Death.' Two years of a foreign language tuition in high school and Lisa was getting pretty good at figuring out most Spanish words or phrases-when she noticed them any way. Having seen the most kick-ass movie of the summer several times, she was now well aware of their presence.
The teen smiled a bit, oblivious to the sultry breeze as it blew through her creamy locks, lost in the haze of a shattered memory: of a time when she and a friend had been cracking up over their 'Vocabulario' story in class, since it had been about a Tortuga (turtle) running away from home. As neither girl could quite visualize how a murky-green, shelled little creature could actually 'run' anywhere, they had found it pretty funny.
Another, more recent memory flooded her drowning senses. . . . .his mouth had softly breached her own; the thick taste of brandy tingling the tip of her tongue from his searing kiss. It played back in her mind in slow motion, her candle stricken eyes hazily watching his remove his crusty boots, then chemise. The bed had creaked with their combined weight, groaning into the night, and filtering onto the wind from the opened, glass panes that hung listlessly in their own accord of the tavern's inn.
The heated breeze of the fresh ocean softly pushed through the fabric of her dress, and the salty waters glittered and snapped about the pier as Gibbs continued his appraisal over the crew he had acquired last night after his leave. She closed her eyes slightly, savoring the warmth and rich scents of the Caribbean. The moment was ripped from a standstill when Will pushed her aside, in haste to reach his 'comrade' nearby. She gave him a dirty look, but he seemed intent upon his own doings:
"So this is your able-bodied crew?"
"No, Jack-ass, the real one's right behind you," Lisa grumbled. Will overheard, and actually did turn, only to see no one at hand. He shot her a warning glance and turned back toward Captain Sparrow in the expectance of an answer of some kind, as the adolescent wiggled her eyebrows a bit knowingly. . . . 'You'd think he'd know sarcasm if he heard it. . . .'
Jack, however, made no response as he shambled his way towards an elderly, seasoned old chap with a parrot accompanying him, perched over a shoulder.
"You, sailor!"
"Er, Mr. Cotton." Gibbs supplied.
"Mr. Cotton. Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?"
Lisa felt a smile curving her lips once more, but struggled at holding it in. This was one of the funniest parts in the film-Oh, man . . . .she just had to cut a straight face.
"Mr. Cotton! Answer me!" Will glanced over toward Miss Lisa, his eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. . . . and something else. He had known that, while within his own quarters at the tavern's inn, that she had shared chambers with Jack Sparrow. . . . so why was it bothering him. He shook his head gently, his dark hair partially falling into his grease colored eyes as they took on a thoughtful expression.
If she was content with sharing his-bed-then (assuming they had last night) he ought not have any concern over their affairs. And yet, she was such a puzzle-an enigma with flashing eyes, beckoning smile, and swirls of lovely hair that practically framed her flaming spirit-the essence of defiance that sparkled from every pore that only an idiot could never have sensed. The thought of Jack haphazardly passing her aside as he had done with other, less respectable women made his gut clench.
Yes, by God she was infuriating beyond every measure of his Elizabeth, his eyes flickered at the memory of her, but he could not just simply turn his back on Miss Lisa when she was so close to him at hand, vulnerable to an extent. She had feelings for Jack, of that he was certain, and Sparrow respected her to a greater degree than he held towards him . . . . although he couldn't quite place much more on either of them. They confused them in an offhanded way, Lisa even more so. . . .
Will tore himself back out of his reverie, but made an inner promise to himself as he gazed-unnoticed-curiously toward the quick witted harpy that nonetheless held him enthralled in puzzlement (for the time being). He vowed that he would keep on matters between those two, he didn't wish for the young lady to be hurt if he could help it.
Even if he sometimes felt that a rough slap in the face might do her a world of good (not seriously speaking of course-he'd never honestly really contemplated striking a woman, let alone acted upon the whim . . . .). he cleared his throat, and brought back his attention toward what was occurring at hand.
Without further ado, I give you yet another "This is not a Mary-Sue" Sue. I have a ton of these.
TITLE: Lisa's Sparrow
CULPRIT: Sayanna The Rover
SUMMARY: "NOT A MARY-SUE! Namely a Jack SparrowOC romance...Lisa seems to have fallen into the movie. (score!) But while she digs Cap'n Sparrow, Will never fails to piss her off....at least, she thinks he does....please r & r"
BEST LINE: "The purple cotton sheets of her bedspread chafed her skin as she wriggled around a bit, striving to free herself from the dry, deserts of tangled fabric that stifled her movements. She gave up after a few unsuccessful twists and turns, in which she miraculously only managed to further entwine her tired body among the dimly color bursting cloth." At least the fact that sheets are purple is fitting.
THE VERDICT
It's a short drop and a sudden stop for you.
NAME: Lisa
EYES: "sharp, crystalline blue eyes" As we're told over and over and over and over and over again.
HAIR: "milky blonde hair that usually held tongues of golden highlights" "naturally curly" "rippling in ringlets about her head" "her eyelashes were thick and curly, they were a light blonde that demanded to be clad in rich, darker shades of brown or black so that they were noticeable- luckily her eyebrows didn't need the same attention and were dark of their own accord" I wonder if she realizes that people with naturally blond hair generally have blond eyebrows, as well.
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: none
OH SO SPESHUL POSSESSIONS: none
OBNOXIOUS AND/OR IMPLAUSIBLE ORIGIN: A modern girl who wakes up in the movie. When will people stop doing this idiocy? It's stupid, it's uninteresting, and no one has ever written a good one.
OBNOXIOUS AND/OR IMPLAUSIBLE CANON CONNECTIONS/AFFILIATIONS: Lust object of both Jack and Will.
SOOPER SPESHUL ABILITIES: Being obnoxious enough to make me want to write a PPC just so I could kill her myself.
THE "PLOT": Sue has a wet dream, wakes up in Tortuga just as Jack and Will have gotten there. She's harassed by a drunk (aren't they all?) saved by Jack and then they makeout in an alley. Sue joins Will and Jack for no apparent reason with absolutely no discussion of what use she could possibly be or why she would want to come along at all. Whatever. Anyway, Sue and Will hate each other because of the burning sexual tension *headdesk*. Sue also thinks that she could "whup his ass any day of the week." She's supposed to have a "fiery spirit" and "sharp wit." What. thefuck. Ever.
There's an inane love triangle between Will, Sue, and Jack. Wherein Will wants to protect Sue from Jack's womanizing because for some reason, even though they met her on Tortuga and she immediately took up with Jack he's under the impression that she is a respectable woman and not a prostitute. Besides that idiocy, the rest of the story is just Sue tagging along for the movie and every once in a while disrupting or otherwise changing scenes so that she may be shoehorned in. Like I didn't hate her enough before. There's no need to pull a Lana.
Her disruptions so far:
1) Throwing an extra bucket of water on Gibbs.
2) Washing the pigs for reasons I just can't fathom.
3) Steals Jack's "No that one I deserved." line in the confrontation with Anamaria.
4) Joining in with assuring Anamaria that she'll get a new, better boat.
5) Making Gibbs say: "No, no, no, no, no, its frightful bad luck to bring more 'en one woman aboard, sir."
NOTES: The Sue is apparently an insertion of a friend of hers. I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse. The prose in this story is so purple it's giving off an ultraviolet glow.
Sue also has a "clever" and "sarcastic" inner monologue going that she's always laughing to herself about. It's really, really annoying since the things she says are never, ever clever or funny. She likes to constantly comment on the hygiene of everyone around her, but conveniently forgets that Jack, himself, is as dirty as any other pirate, probably didn't exactly smell like a bed of roses, and, apparently, had chronic halitosis.
The longer I read this story the more I want to jump into it and throttle Sue for being such an obnoxious bitch.
In other news:
In addition to Jack's nummy orbs, Will has gained eyes of chocolate, as well. They're also coffee and grease-colored. Anamaria is both "Ana Maria" and "Annemarie." And in chapter one the author also takes a little time to bash movie!Legolas; a favored antifangirl!Fangirl pastime.
LisaSue scored 70 on the PotC Litmus Test. But I gave her an extra 37 points for being bitchy, trying and failing to be snarky, and just being generally annoying. So consider that 107.
This author also has a LotR Sue: "Despite a hellish childhood and odd family arrangements, Jesse kind of figured she was different. Though she dwelt on her precious dreams, it never struck her that such things come at a price. It All begins in Rohan. A Mary-Sue? don't make me laugh"
Once again I wonder if these people actually understand what a Mary-Sue is.
EXCERPT:
Chapter One: In Which Sue Has A Wet Dream, Has A Fight To The Death With Her Sheets, Likes Someone Named 'Johnny Dep', and Curses A Whole Bunch
Night and night again, he came to her...his husky breath whispering across her skin with the aroma of thickened brandy drifting across her senses with his mouth only a few agonizing millimeters away from her own luscious, tangy lips. And that's where it all would begin.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
"God damn it!!" Lisa swore. She knew it had been too good to be true! Fuck! Only a few minutes more and she would have had him between her legs. The purple cotton sheets of her bedspread chafed her skin as she wriggled around a bit, striving to free herself from the dry, deserts of tangled fabric that stifled her movements. She gave up after a few unsuccessful twists and turns, in which she miraculously only managed to further entwine her tired body among the dimly color bursting cloth.
"Damn bed sheets," she grumbled to no one inparticular, before rolling over and giving into exhaustion, "Jesus, I wish I could torment people by choking them to death in their sleep," she mused sarcastically, referring, of course, to the constricting bed spread that continued to pool about her.
She remained motionless for a time, studying the various shades of romantically hued purples and splashes of shadow about the walls of her bedroom. Her bunk bed gave full view to the domain of her bedroom, which consisted of a labyrinth of what appeared to be debris spread out across her carpet. In reality, it was only the stuff that she could never find room for in her closet at the far corner of the room, let alone find the time to shove it under the bottom bunk of her bed to join the countless other cascades of 'junk' and lost treasures.
She huffed a lock of hair out of her face airily; cleaning just wasn't her thing. By the time she actually did manage to spruce things up a bit, she would absently leave things around to be put away 'just a little later'. Before she knew it, the silver dust would collect and she would be left staring at the same, messy room. Right where she started from. So why bother? She could remember where she left things (usually) so why waste all that effort and time in the mockery of being organized when it just not who she was in the long run- let alone couldn't find shit when her things were put away in the 'proper' place.
Her eyes drifted across the crisp posters and photographs featuring America's Favorite Red-head and the scattering of mint-fresh license plates that displayed the same. Bouquets of cream-slurred colors, made hazy in the cinnamon light emanating from her window located below the ground floor only seemed to add to her already heavy-lidded gaze. She could barely keep her eyes open.
With her last fizzle of energy, she glanced toward the poster that hung on the wall directly across from her, where it was easily hidden when the door slammed open in due cause from herself or her younger siblings. Unlike the others, this poster (as well as a few, select others) featured someone other than the 'I Love Lucy' starlet- it was of the all time sexiest man of all time (except for the character of Aragorn in Lord of The Rings, she inwardly mused). Johnny Dep.a.k.a. Captain Jack Sparrow in the hit new movie 'Pirates of The Caribbean: The Curse of The Black Pearl'.
She had seen the film about seven times now-and counting- at least until they ripped it out of theatres for good. While most of her friends drooled over Orlando Bloom (or 'Lego-butt' as some fondly referred to him) she only had eyes for the hunk of a guy who possessed enough dry wit, humor, and sex appeal to keep up with her. Sure, Bloom wasn't bad looking or anything as for how young actors go-heck- it was an upgrade in this movie to see him with his darker, natural locks and some facial hair than that God-awful blonde, braided wig thingy that made him look like a friggen' girl or something. But still- she figured 'just gimme the gorgeous nature boy that's not afraid of a little filth and rot and nobody gets hurt' kind of thing. If you wanted a man, why not go all out for the real thing?
She snuggled more into the now-damp bedding as she settled down to catch a few more hours of sleep. The light fragrance of salty perspiration was delicately evaporating away- its presence having come from that heavenly erotic dream she had just been having only moments ago.
She yawned sleepily; so what had woken her up? She would've blamed the hamsters that she had had at one point, if she hadn't thrown them out the window at another. The damn things kept 'squeaka squeaka-ing' all night long in their stupid little rolly wheel chambers. That, and the fact that they wouldn't quit trying to bite her when she fed them or tried to cuddle them sealed their fate.
So what was it? Couldn't have been her alarm clock, it hadn't gone off or anything yet.maybe someone from upstairs was thumping around on the floor boards on their way to get a glass of warm milk or something.maybe that was it.yeah maybe. Lisa drifted back to sleep, less moody than she had been previously due to the promises of heavy dreams sure to follow in her path on her way to slumber land.
However, in the darkness curled up just outside her windowpane, beyond where the waxy-looking plants of tulips and whatnot grew out from the moist soil and earth, something moved. In the darkness, something moved.and something watched.
A/N.hehehe, quite the cliffhanger, doncha think? Yes, I know I'm evil for leaving you like this, No, actually, evil for writing this shit in the first place. but I promise to get the rest of the story out (either one or two more chappies- can't decide yet) BEFORE THE 24TH...LoL in the meantime- you can stew until then, and feel free to review or send in any ideas you might have 'cause I'll consider them.yuppers.Okay doeky, until next time then = )
Chapter Two: In Which Sue Wakes Up In Tortuga, Is Sexually Harassed, Then Molests Jack In An Alley
The mist of darkness and veiling shadow continuously lurked by the frosted window-dawn was not far off. The ever-watchful eyes that resembled chips of ice with their depth and chilling cold stare was of sharp, utter focus when drifting over the rumpled form of a sixteen year old tangled within her purple bed sheets. A hiss of breathe escaped, bred of frustration and something much more potent
. could it be desire.?
.or something much more raw.?
Puffs of air that floated softly as a butterfly's sigh shivered over the plants, clammy to the touch when drifting across an emerald surface fastened by the beads of dew drops. Dawn was too near.
The eyes and shadow dispersed; leaving behind a golden, rounded surface of a coin, which gleamed dully where the cinnamon light passed over the crude- jagged image of a skull and crossed bones etched across it.It lay there.
Was it waiting for something?
Or was something else? * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Whether it was from the corset or the thick heat of the sultry air she was not certain, but she could hardly breath. A dim confusion in collection as to where she was and why the hell she was wearing an outdated brassiere that cut into her sides while it hugged her voluptuous form flowed gently at the back of her mind; like a cool, peaceful river swallowing her senses whole.
Lisa's sharp, crystalline blue eyes devoured her oddly familiar surroundings, almost causing her to sway with the full weight of de-ja-vu pounding within her blood at the sights, sounds, and smells of it all. Soft whispers of twilight gently caressed themselves over and away from the horizon, falling away back into the sea. Heated- raucous laughter, roasted meats, and sugared delights of both rum and fruits tainted the salt-sprayed air of the Caribbean.
Ramshackle buildings of time-slicked wood and stone perched drunkenly amid the inevitable darkness of night; lanterns flickered lazy patterns both across and throughout the district and illuminated the midnight-kissed alley-ways and taverns that basked within the waking shadows of evening.
Lisa slowly became aware of these surroundings at the same time she had become aware of her painfully tight dress that threatened to smother her with its maroon velvet that shimmered capes of blue at every ruffle and fold when hit by the musty candle light about her. God, she was gonna suffocate in this thing.! She pawed at it for a minute, then became aware of another slight distress-or more of an annoying hindrance by the feel of it.
Her milky blonde hair that usually held tongues of golden highlights throughout was starched and piled high in audacious, stiff curls. The fact that her hair tended to be naturally curly didn't really bother her, assuming that there was a hair-straightener in sight and within reach. But that fact that it was rippling in ringlets about her head with a starchy layer of what she could only guess was hairspray was asking a bit much. Make that way, way a bit too much.
She was tempted to tear at it with her nails, but stopped when the fingers of her left hand realized that they grasped the moth-y bejeweled fabric and wooden frame of a 17th fan. Alllright.that would have been considered weird if her mind wasn't so foggy and in a haze while pirates, whores, and ill-delighting sailors pressed about her in sweltering crowds.
She strove to understand.
But she could remember nothing. Not of where she was nor how she came to be there.
She vaguely wondered if she wore mascara, and debated that if it were present it would melt away or not (While her eyelashes were thick and curly, they were a light blonde that demanded to be clad in rich, darker shades of brown or black so that they were noticeable- luckily her eyebrows didn't need the same attention and were dark of their own accord).
She would have felt lost amidst her surroundings of sweaty flesh, her own burning lungs, and humidity of the night were it not for the familiarity of a voice nearby that drew in her attention.She listened intently, ignoring the perfume of acidic smoke drifting out of the barrels of pistols fired by some drunk idling on a balcony and that of the mingling scents of wild flowers nearby.
She came idly out of her reverie for a moment, thinking ' Jesus, I wish I was some dumb-ass drunk who didn't know what the fuck I was doing because I apparently drowned in a liquor barrel'.her sarcastic musings drifted away as she regained focus on the fast approaching voice that practically tasted so familiar, something ached inside of her.
."If every island were like this one, no man would ever feel unwanted.".
It almost had the flavor of cool honey, and she could hardly stand it. She thrust her way through the crowds that looked as though they could swallow her whole, and ignored the leering glances sallow-faced men that cast her freshly cut eyes of dry enticement. She had to find him.She must find him.
"Scarlet!"
A meaty thud, akin to that of a slap perhaps from across a cheek, reached her echoed past her dripping pearl earrings.
"Not sure I deserved that."
She knew him! She had heard this all before.somewhere.A dry chuckle escaped her throat as a remembrance slowly ebbed across her mind.
"Giselle!"
"Who was she?!" Another meaty thud-thicker and richer than the last. Bubbles of excitement and humor swirled within Lisa, making her feel as a bottle of champaign.
And she was something to be intoxicateing; was as artfully shaped as any glass bottle to be found.and a thirst was no stranger to her either.
"I may have deserved that."
So damn close! She could see him through the bustling crowds.Rich locks of midnight black tied back by a greasy bandana, surmounted by a seasonally chewed leather hat. Dark, hooded, chocolate eyes so deep, she could fall into them. She silently swore under her breath. Strands of shape and faded color were the beads from select locks in his mane that cascaded downward in twists and turns. A man stood behind him, and Lisa knew him to be Will Turner, but she took little notice of him in light of the pirate before her.
He began to turn about and stalk through the crowd as taking part in some crazy waltz while his companion followed after him at a steadier pace. Through the ripples of shaded mahogany and salt tinged swallows of human skin patting the air she followed as well.
As she rounded the bend she found him alone, unaccompanied by another, and took the opportunity as a stroke of luck while she took in the scenery of the ramshackle stables filled with musty hay in the alley way.at least until she felt the press of cold steel against her throat. A rough arm encircled her waist, pressing Lisa up against something or more like someone, that was obviously a stranger to bathing. Oh yuck!
"Mmm, youse smell good little girl." his foul, whiskey thickened breathe patted against his victims ear, and this pissed Lisa off to no end; not only was her Jack Sparrow a few precious feet away (and counting) and out of her reach, some fucking moron had the balls to feel her up in the dark while cackling on about her being a 'little girl' .her mind had completely cleared by this time of any remaining 'dream-like-fuzz-; that had still been swirling about her brain earlier. She was 16, a good height of about 5' 7'' and yet dumb-asses (such as the twit behind her with the raunchy breathe) would still refer to her as 'little'.good lord, half the time she was taller than those same dip wads.!
Looking back on this current situation, this pirate guy behind her must have been drunker, or just plain stupider than she had first perceived 'cause he still hadn't picked up the warning signals as to how pissed and high-strung she was right now (yeah she was afraid-who wouldn't be with a knife at your neck?! But stress and anger are NOT a good combination when you're rooting for the other team-just ask any female) and was getting ready to kick some ass when suddenly.
"Hullo, mate. What've we got 'round here?"
Lisa met Jack's gaze, calmly trying to rationalize the situation. Great. Her crush was going to save her. Not the lasting impression she had been hoping to leave the guy with, but whatever worked to get a certain jack- ass's hands and weapons away from her at the moment.
"Nun or yer damn business.naw get off with yer, savy?" Jack rolled his eyes heavenward as if seeking help. He was treading on thin ice on the moment, and could only count on the fact that his daft opponent was too incredibly drunk for this little trick to fail. His eyes darted to those of the teenager opposite him or a split second; as well as assuming the younger chit opposite him would comply with her fiery little spirit that he had glimpsed moments before-he couldn't swing this alone- he needed her cooperation.
Jack snapped his furtive, coal black eyes back to his opponent and clicked his tongue obnoxiously. All the while sidling up to the delirious pirate and his prey.
"tsk, tsk, tsk, mate. 'O course its my business when it comes to bein' 'round here with you and your," he clapped his hand on the other man's shoulder and gestured to Lisa with a flick of his head, "acquaintance." He grinned wolfishly for a moment, secretly hoping that the little minx was catching on to his plan by now.
Jack clapped him on the shoulder again, and led the man away from his intended victim unconsciously as he mocked friendship and advice by upbraiding him gently.
"Now, now, mate. Surely you don't think you're being too hard on the lass, do ya?"
"Well..er..I surppose that I was..er." Jack drew his hands away using them to make elaborate gestures as his gaze turned away from the drunkard and out at the crisp stars that shown starkly in the cape of night.
" You see, mate; you never let women get the upper hand. Oh, sure, you can get away with letting them think that I suppose, but really." All the while, the other man goggled his eyes toward Jack Sparrow as she continued the lecture, having forgotten that he had let the adolescent escape while trying to learn from his new comrade. That's why he never knew what hit him was Lisa swung an old flower pot (which had sat precariously on a boarded up window ledge nearby within the alley) and cracked it over his skull. Jack heard the crash but preferred to continue his lecture-enjoying himself too much not to.
".when it all comes down to it a female is a helpless thing that needs to feel possessed by a force stronger 'en by herself should they ever get into a dangerous situation." He turned back toward the unconscious pirate that lay brokenly on the floor like some rag doll, throwing his hands out toward him as if to prove an illustrious point "savy?"
Lisa snorted, and dropped what few shards she had left from holding the flower pot before stepping over her previous captor as if he were a pile of distasteful manure. Jack watched her curiously for a moment; his plan had come out better than he had first perceived. Obviously, this girl had some guts about her.
However, he never expected her to pounce. She had grabbed to lapels of his shirt, shoved him against one of the stables that lay listlessly in the alley, and crushed her lips to his own.
Of course it shocked the hell out of him, but he found himself reacting nonetheless as he reacted only as a man could do in the possible situation. He grasped her by the waist and hips in return before deepeneing the kiss, and she made no objection as his tongue slipped across her lips and into her mouth. Her hands tangled into his midnight locks, and she moaned as she felt him against her thighs through the thick fabrics that constricted each other from another's flesh. His mouth left her own to trail open mouthed kisses down her neck, but she wasn't through playing the seductress just yet. She slid her right hand away from his thick, curlying mane, trailing it along his body until she came into contact with what she wanted.
He gave a ragged gasp of pleasure and surprise until Lisa recaptured his mouth, drinking him in, as she continued her delicious torment in which she grasped his full throbbing member through his straining breeches. He unconsciously thrust his hips toward her own, freeing himself from her touch (lest he lose total control at the feel of her.) and ground his hips against her own, letting her feel the length of his arousal.
It was then that Will, who had went ahead, not realizing what had taken place let alone that he had been separated from Captain Jack Sparrow, returned around the bend in the alley way and stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw. His jaw would have dropped open if he had let it. There was Jack, entangled by the arms of a woman who was probably no older than he himself. Lisa caught sight of their little audience when her eyes had peaked open to see Jack's reaction when she had started sucking on his tongue. She sighed inwardly, and quickly ripped herself away from her beloved's warm embraces. Her aroused body protested the sudden loneliness that it experienced, but gained control over herself. She smiled and curtsied to jack, who seemed bemused, aroused, and shockingly entertained all in one go as their bodies broke contact and he sized her up once more with a growing respect toward her character (among other things).
"I thank you for saving me, Captain jack Sparrow." When Lisa caught sight of the growing puzzlement shifting over his facial features (she had broken an erotic kiss to thank him?!) she glanced over pointedly toward Will, and Jack followed suite. He straightened up from where he had been pinned by the strong-willed girl-no-woman in front of him and kissed her hand slyly.
"Pleasure is mine, lass." Will looked somewhat calmer from his place in the shadows, but still retained somehow gave himself away in trying to seem relaxed when he was rather shocked. Bowing gallantly, Jack took Lisa on his arm and led her over toward Will. Her crystalline, blue eyes smiled along with her lips as they approached; trying to hide the smugness she felt after experiencing THAT. She still, of course, had no idea how she had suddenly morphed into this ' pirates of the Caribbean' movie, but she sure as hell wasn't complaining! Not even close.her mind had cleared considerably, but certain answers still eluded her.
Ah, well my lad, I'd like you to meet." Lisa cut in for him, curtsying toward Will as she supplied an answer. " Lisa. And I'm pleased to meet you both." Will bobbed his head toward her in response, still a bit dumbfounded after that display, but retained his manners nonetheless.
"The Pleasure is mine, Miss Lisa."
A/N whew! That's a long chapter.hope you guys liked it!! More is sure to come so just hang on and be patient..oh, and please don't hesitate to send in a review!!! Thanks = )
Chapter Four: In Which Sue Refers To Will As Lego-butt
Jack arose leisurely from the lacquered chair, and offered a hand in mockery of the proper gentleman to the young lady beside him. Lisa smiled a bit at the gesture, and accepted his offer of helping her from her seat; the flickering lights within the tavern playing across her features in the most seductive, and mischievous of ways.
Gibbs followed suit, hastily arising in courtesy toward the lovely woman present, although he managed to practically knock over his chair from the affects of the alcohol he had consumed. He straightened it quickly, trying to ignore his bumbling, graceless movements as he gave a hurried, respectful nod toward Lisa, and winked cheekily at Jack before he strutted away through the ripe-smelling crowd, with the intention of getting down to business for the morrow.
Feigning disinterest, Lisa quirked her crystalline eyes after the husky pirate, keeping her knowledge on the outcome of events a secret-or at least at the opportune moment. Until then, if ever, she would have to act the part of the knowledge less maiden over key events.
"What was that about, Captain Sparrow?" he narrowed his eyes silkily at her, drinking in her form as she gazed bemusedly after the receding buccaneer.
"Nothin' ter worry your pretty little head about, Lass." She glanced over at Jack, an eyebrow delicately quirked upwards in a questioning.
"Hey, since I'm heading off with you and Will," she nodded her head in Turner's direction, who continued to lean up against the shadowed, worn door-frame, "on this little venture, I'm pretty sure it IS somewhat my business. So spill it."
Jack laughed softly; he genuinely like this girl-a fiery little minx like this was bound to make life rather interesting, if not more memorable. The thought of her accompanying them on such a breathless voyage sounded, 'pleasant' (he smiled inwardly) although the thought of 'spilling it' to her was not quite in his plans. Not yet anyway. . . . .
Drawing her nearer, he gave her hand a lingering kiss, grinning up at her face cattily.
"All in good time, Lisa, all in good time. . . ." He glanced over toward William, and gave a knowing smirk.
"Would you mind very much bringing over mister Turner? He's done an admirable job as look-out, although, he has permission to leave his post . . ." Lisa laughed quietly,
"Yeah, really. Just hang on a sec. . .Captain." She released the last bit of her words with a sexual purr, then slipped from her soon-to-be-lover's grasp as she made her way toward the black smith's apprentice, who stoically took in his chaotic surroundings amidst the decaying, putrid scents of the tavern and its festering inhabitants. Jack looked after her, lust melding through his heated gaze, anticipating what was sure to come later that evening while his eyes trailed after the seductive sway of her hips at present. . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Hey, Will." He turned his head at the sound of a familiar voice, but continued his easy stance in the door. He was in no mood to banter words with the chit-he wanted nothing to do with her, and made it painfully clear as he commenced to ignore her.
Thoughts drifted toward that of Miss Swan. . . . his Elizabeth. Lord only knew what she could be suffering at this moment at the hands of a merciless band of pirates, while he was stuck here, waiting, hardly close to rescuing the lady of his dreams back from Barbossa's bloodthirsty crew.
"Yo-Lego-butt, I'm talking to you here," Lisa snapped her fingers under his nose, impatiently trying to recapture his attention. She wasn't exactly thrilled at having to interact with the guy either, but made due. The sooner she got Will to pay attention long enough so that he'd haul it back with her and Jack, the sooner they could leave.
Will looked over at her distractedly, perturbed at having been interrupted from his private musings once more and insulted as. . . . . wait. What?
"What was that you called me?" Lisa crossed her arm over her chest, and rolled her eyes at the stubborn young man. Oohh, big mistake-just what she needed to see, a mealy looking rodent skittering across the grit covered floorboards from the corner of her vision. She recoiled slightly, but recomposed herself in a flash. 'This place is just too gross!'
"Lego-butt. Any way, Jack wants to see you. So you're off sentry duty." 'and a nice job you made of it too, by-the-by. . .how could any one be THAT gullible? Wonders never cease.' she mused. Will narrowed his eyes at her, scowling slightly at her demeanor. His chocolate brown eyes burned dangerously for a moment, before giving it up and moodily lapsing back into his casual, good-nature.
"What is its meaning?" he stretched a bit, flashing Lisa an inquisitive glance as he did, and let up leaning on the rotting doorframe; though giving no other movement, intending to remain where he was until he received an answer, being curious of the girl's response. Seeing through to his intentions, Lisa shrugged carelessly and gave answer as she re-crossed her arms.
"You remind me of this one guy a friend of mine has a crush on-and her nickname for him is 'Lego-butt'.
"Intriguing," he replied a little sarcastically with the hint of a smile gracing his features, and steadily made his way toward Captain Sparrow. She rolled her eyes for the second time. 'Good lord, it wasn't a compliment dumb-ass.' She made to head back as well, but something caught her eye as she turned.
'Hey, it's Will's latest girlfriend,' she mused, and waved at the seemingly drugged whore who had been falling all over Will earlier. Half stoned from consuming vast quantities of rum, the pasty looking prostitute grinned stupidly, displaying liquorices colored teeth as she waved back with a clay mug in a dirty fist and gurgled back a tittering giggle.
"And THAT displays the importance of dentistry, children" she muttered under her breath, and walked toward the two awaiting gentlemen who patiently spoke together in low tone of voices.
From Chapter Five: In Which Will Rhapsodizes About Sue Because Love-Hate Relationships Don't Already Annoy Me Enough When There Aren't Any Sues Involved
Feast your eyes, Captain. All of them, faithful hands before the mast, every man worth his salt and crazy to boot."
'Well no shit Sherlock; these guys have GOT to be a few tacos shy of a picnic if they're willing to go to the 'Island of Death.' Two years of a foreign language tuition in high school and Lisa was getting pretty good at figuring out most Spanish words or phrases-when she noticed them any way. Having seen the most kick-ass movie of the summer several times, she was now well aware of their presence.
The teen smiled a bit, oblivious to the sultry breeze as it blew through her creamy locks, lost in the haze of a shattered memory: of a time when she and a friend had been cracking up over their 'Vocabulario' story in class, since it had been about a Tortuga (turtle) running away from home. As neither girl could quite visualize how a murky-green, shelled little creature could actually 'run' anywhere, they had found it pretty funny.
Another, more recent memory flooded her drowning senses. . . . .his mouth had softly breached her own; the thick taste of brandy tingling the tip of her tongue from his searing kiss. It played back in her mind in slow motion, her candle stricken eyes hazily watching his remove his crusty boots, then chemise. The bed had creaked with their combined weight, groaning into the night, and filtering onto the wind from the opened, glass panes that hung listlessly in their own accord of the tavern's inn.
The heated breeze of the fresh ocean softly pushed through the fabric of her dress, and the salty waters glittered and snapped about the pier as Gibbs continued his appraisal over the crew he had acquired last night after his leave. She closed her eyes slightly, savoring the warmth and rich scents of the Caribbean. The moment was ripped from a standstill when Will pushed her aside, in haste to reach his 'comrade' nearby. She gave him a dirty look, but he seemed intent upon his own doings:
"So this is your able-bodied crew?"
"No, Jack-ass, the real one's right behind you," Lisa grumbled. Will overheard, and actually did turn, only to see no one at hand. He shot her a warning glance and turned back toward Captain Sparrow in the expectance of an answer of some kind, as the adolescent wiggled her eyebrows a bit knowingly. . . . 'You'd think he'd know sarcasm if he heard it. . . .'
Jack, however, made no response as he shambled his way towards an elderly, seasoned old chap with a parrot accompanying him, perched over a shoulder.
"You, sailor!"
"Er, Mr. Cotton." Gibbs supplied.
"Mr. Cotton. Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?"
Lisa felt a smile curving her lips once more, but struggled at holding it in. This was one of the funniest parts in the film-Oh, man . . . .she just had to cut a straight face.
"Mr. Cotton! Answer me!" Will glanced over toward Miss Lisa, his eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. . . . and something else. He had known that, while within his own quarters at the tavern's inn, that she had shared chambers with Jack Sparrow. . . . so why was it bothering him. He shook his head gently, his dark hair partially falling into his grease colored eyes as they took on a thoughtful expression.
If she was content with sharing his-bed-then (assuming they had last night) he ought not have any concern over their affairs. And yet, she was such a puzzle-an enigma with flashing eyes, beckoning smile, and swirls of lovely hair that practically framed her flaming spirit-the essence of defiance that sparkled from every pore that only an idiot could never have sensed. The thought of Jack haphazardly passing her aside as he had done with other, less respectable women made his gut clench.
Yes, by God she was infuriating beyond every measure of his Elizabeth, his eyes flickered at the memory of her, but he could not just simply turn his back on Miss Lisa when she was so close to him at hand, vulnerable to an extent. She had feelings for Jack, of that he was certain, and Sparrow respected her to a greater degree than he held towards him . . . . although he couldn't quite place much more on either of them. They confused them in an offhanded way, Lisa even more so. . . .
Will tore himself back out of his reverie, but made an inner promise to himself as he gazed-unnoticed-curiously toward the quick witted harpy that nonetheless held him enthralled in puzzlement (for the time being). He vowed that he would keep on matters between those two, he didn't wish for the young lady to be hurt if he could help it.
Even if he sometimes felt that a rough slap in the face might do her a world of good (not seriously speaking of course-he'd never honestly really contemplated striking a woman, let alone acted upon the whim . . . .). he cleared his throat, and brought back his attention toward what was occurring at hand.