Thinkin' about Pirates...
A further consideration of Will’s first meeting with Jack Sparrow in the blacksmith’s shop and how Jack became Will’s next sword master. Person: Pearlseed Disclaimer: None some of mine a’tall Rating: Easy on the goods
Was Will’s hot temper and confidence gained from intense practice with Norrington brought Will to his current situation, blade drawn, ready to kill the man-shaped vermin before him. He was oddly amused by ferocity of his anger balanced against his cool detachment. He quite prepared to kill. Norrington had schooled him well.
Norrington insisted Will’s artistic ability would realize a perfect weapon only if he understood the purpose of the tool he crafted with his skillful hands. He assigned this “duty” to himself. The drills developed Will’s strong young body in serious practice spiced with play. The activity benefitted both, polishing Will’s natural elegance and providing Norrington with some boyish rough housing. He was correct as well about Will’s swords improving because he understood the work the blade had to perform.
Will frowned deeply, full lips bunched in disgusted judgment.
Damn pirate! There were Rules! Didn’t he know?! He had ability, capable in attack, superb in defense. But then… he just stopped, started blathering on about footwork?
Then, apparently, he was just going to waltz out the shop door… just ignore the situation at hand, this fight was for the insult to Elisabeth!
Still, there were many ways to use a hammer… and the pirate was old. And not his first encounter with a man intent on taking his life. Will’s quick mind filed the new ideas.
Will considered what Norrington had taught him. A fair fight might well be whatever would keep him alive.
Surely the Commodore would understand.
Was Will’s hot temper and confidence gained from intense practice with Norrington brought Will to his current situation, blade drawn, ready to kill the man-shaped vermin before him. He was oddly amused by ferocity of his anger balanced against his cool detachment. He quite prepared to kill. Norrington had schooled him well.
Norrington insisted Will’s artistic ability would realize a perfect weapon only if he understood the purpose of the tool he crafted with his skillful hands. He assigned this “duty” to himself. The drills developed Will’s strong young body in serious practice spiced with play. The activity benefitted both, polishing Will’s natural elegance and providing Norrington with some boyish rough housing. He was correct as well about Will’s swords improving because he understood the work the blade had to perform.
Will frowned deeply, full lips bunched in disgusted judgment.
Damn pirate! There were Rules! Didn’t he know?! He had ability, capable in attack, superb in defense. But then… he just stopped, started blathering on about footwork?
Then, apparently, he was just going to waltz out the shop door… just ignore the situation at hand, this fight was for the insult to Elisabeth!
Still, there were many ways to use a hammer… and the pirate was old. And not his first encounter with a man intent on taking his life. Will’s quick mind filed the new ideas.
Will considered what Norrington had taught him. A fair fight might well be whatever would keep him alive.
Surely the Commodore would understand.