[IC] A Pirate's Life For Me {Angel & Poohead}

[AngelBites15]

In black, thunder sounded just before one came even louder. Lightning flashed until there was a singing female voice in the vicious wind.

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me...

The thunder came again as the voice continued with a British flag blowing in the wind.

We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot, drink up me hearties, yo ho. We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot, drink up me hearties, yo ho.

This time, rain began to fall over a town which looked like a harbor.

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me...

The singing faded as thunder striked once more as a pirate flag was being carried by the wind. A male voice began to narrate. It was John Silver.

Those were almost the first words she spoke to us. We remembered her name, her idea, but we did not remember the man who invented it.

The gallows appeared, as a man in shackles was forced to stand on the platform with the noose being snugged around his neck. The platform was released, forcing him to die.

Because of that man's failure, he was killed, and forgotten.

Cannon fire sounded as it dueled with another ship, causing explosions on the sea craft. The ship began to sink as its flag blew in the wind. The flag sank into the depths.

But as the years passed, an idea could still change the world. People killed in the name of it...and died defending it.

A figure of a boy floated to the surface of the water until he laid on a piece of the ship, drifting to a shore nearby.

But you cannot kiss an idea. Cannot touch it or hold it

Jamaican peasants ran to the water as they saw the figure drifting, being able to pull him ashore.

They do not feel pain or show love

Commodore Norrington and Governor Swann run over to the group as they see the unconscious boy before them. "Get a doctor!", Norrington told his lieutenant, Theodore.

But it wasn't the idea that was missed

A gold glimmer shined near them, but they didn't notice.

It was a woman. A woman that made us remember. A woman, we pirates will never forget

The story title appeared in the darkness of the screen.

[POOHEAD189]

Years later.
Pop. Realization flooded over Will Turner that he had just ruined the gilded candle holder after giving it the slightest handling. He blinked, and looked around uneasily. It wouldn't do for someone who at least attempted to be a proper gentlemen to be caught in such a way. Not to mention him being in the Governors house in general, ruining his things.

A servant strode in, Will giving him a smile that only betrayed slight nervousness. The man ignored him mostly, passing him by.

"Ah, Mister Turner." he heard from the side, Governor Swann and another servant at his flank approaching. "Good to see you again."

"Good day sir" Will said quickly, placing the box he was carrying upon the nearest table. "I have your order."

He took the lid off the container and presented the ornate and exquisitely made rapier to his liege. The Governor examined it.
"The blade is folded steel. That is gold filigree laid into the handle." He gestured. "If I may?"

The governor handed it to him. "Perfectly balanced. The tang is nearly the full width of the blade." he flipped the sword expertly, startling the Governor for a moment, but the man had always been a kind, albeit posh man.

"Impressive, very impressive." Governor Swann said. "Commodore Norrington will be most pleased with this. Do pass my compliments onto your master."

Will paused for a moment. It was not his place to say, but it was he himself that forged the blade and not the oft-asleep man he worked under. "I shall." he promised. "A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated."

[AngelBites15]

Behind them, upon the stairs, a young woman with tied-up, brown-blonde hair, descended down towards them in a very careful manner, as she wore a fashionable Victorian dress that the noblewomen wore of their wealthy status.

Behind her, there was another young woman, perhaps younger, trailing behind her down the stairs, in the same fashion of dress. Except this one had long brown hair with a shade of auburn, going down to her chest, instead of being tied up like the other.

"Oh, girls, you look absolutely stunning", the governor complimented to them. The first girl smiled as soon as she saw Will. "Will, it's good to see you", she greeted in a warm manner. "I had a dream about you last night", she added, as she approached him; the other tailing behind her, looking somewhat shy in the prescence of so many people in one room.

[POOHEAD189]

"A dream?" Will asked, somewhat stunned for a moment, though quite obviously delighted. "About me?" His gaze was locked on her eyes as he smiled. The Governor coughed. "Come now, that's hardly appropriate." he told her, clearing his throat and ushering the shy one to come closer with a beckoning hand. The Governor's words did not seem to deter the young Blacksmith, nor his daughter's gaze.

[AngelBites15]

The younger, shy girl behind the spirited woman, was Abigail Ashe; the daughter of Lord Peter Ashe in Charlestown. Her attendance to this formerly-arranged ceremony was mainly to substitute the place of her father, who told her to go, and respect the wealthy Swann family's authority. She didn't deter from her spot, though did take a few steps forward, while keeping her eyes somewhat down. "About when we first met. Do you remember?", the spirited young woman asked the blacksmith before her, not being deterred about her father's presecence.

[POOHEAD189]

Will gave her a kind smile, his dark featured face brightened by her attention. "How could I forget, miss Swann?" he asked her, keeping his gaze locked upon hers. The Governor was still behind them, unable to really halt his spirited daughter once she set her mind upon something.

[AngelBites15]

"Will, how many times do I have to say for you to call me 'Elizabeth'?", she asked him in a soft tone within her voice. The younger one couldn't help, but make a small, friendly grin upon her lips at her cousin's slight tease of amusement. The governor's only daughter, Elizabeth Swann, had the physical appearance of a fine young woman; a young goddess in human form. For her, she didn't mind talking to those of low-status. She was just too kind when talking to them, not really wishing them harm, but only to wish them the best of luck, despite what her father thinks on such behavior.

[POOHEAD189]

Will thought of Elizabeth just as many a young man in Port Royale did. Too kind and beautiful to be real. Not only that, but they had grown up together since they had first met and had grown quite fond of one another until their elders reinforced upon Will the status quo. It was then that they had seen less and less of one another, and while they were old friends, Will saw her as the Governor's daughter rather than Elizabeth when in public. "At least once more miss Swann. As always." he said, giving a smile.

[AngelBites15]

"Well, we don't want to be late now, do we?", the governor cut in as he took the presentation case in hand. "Come now, Elizabeth. Abigail", his daughter just kept her kind smile on. "Good day, Mister Turner", she softly said, sounding slightly disappointed to not talk to him a little longer, before following the Governor out of the mansion, and to the carriage that was waiting outside; her cousin following, Abigail gave Will a polite smile and a small wave as she passed by him.

[POOHEAD189]

He mirrored her sad smile as she left, allowing them to go before being escorted out of the mansion himself by the Governor's servants. He found himself upon the dirt streets of Port Royale, a place befitting his station as usual. He let out a sigh, and then headed back to his smithy. The streets were riddled with commoners and livestock, while Red Coats marched about with a sense of purpose that Will knew he himself felt smithing or practicing his sword. He was just getting back...

[AngelBites15]

Against the sky, a womanly figure is standing on a yardarm, wearing suggestive clothing that seems to resemble a Western saloon girl; a lace-trimmed, ivory-colored tank-corset with an addition of tight, long-sleeves, and a matching short mini-skirt stopping at her upper thighs. Attached to her back-waist, was a matching ivory organza bustle pooling down to her feet, and revealing her front bare legs. She also appears to be wearing black lace-trimmed thigh high stockings, a black choker, and black calf-high heeled boots. Her chest-lengthed, wavy-curled dark brown hair blew in the wind as she gazed out with keen, blue eyes upon a ship, looming in the distance of an approaching harbor.

Her attention was eventually drawn to something below, and she leaped from the yardarm to the rigging, and into the foot of water, which appears to be filling the hull of her small fishing dory. Sloshing through floating net buoys, she picked up a bucket, and started tossing the water back into the ocean. As soon as she was about to pass what seems to be skeletal remains of three pirates hanging from a gallows on a rocky promontory, she immediately stopped what she was doing. Giving the deceased some honor, she tossed a silver shilling into the water to pay her respects. Seeing a fourth, unoccupied noose, it beared a sign: "PIRATES - YE BE WARNED". This didn't phase her, and she acknowledged it with a nod.

The harbor is bustling with activity. The people began to gaze at the strange woman on top of the crow's nest, while the boat itself has sunk completely. Stepping nonchalantly onto the dock, the mystery woman just strolled casually right past the harbormaster. "What? Hold up there, you", he called to her in a patronizing manner, making the young woman halt in her steps and turn back around to walk back towards him. "It’s a shilling to tie up your boat to the dock", he told her, before she casted a dubious glance back towards the sunken boat's mast. "And I shall need to know your name", he added before opening the ledger. Sighing before smiling coyly, she took three shillings from her pouch, and placed them onto the ledger. "What do you say to three shillings, and forget the name?", she spoke to him in a cool, innocent-like tone in her English-accented voice.

The Harbormaster considers this when he shuts the ledger. "Welcome to Port Royal, Ms. Smith", he welcomed her before quickly moving off. She acknowledged the welcome with a nod and a cool smile, before moving past the Harbormaster's desk, and spotting a small money bag sitting on top of it. She picked up the bag to shake it. Pleased to hear the rattle of coins, she pockets it and moves on off the dock.

--------------------

British soldiers marched into the courtyard of the fort, with steel drums sounding with the trumpets.

Taking their places, Elizabeth, in the crowd, was cooling herself off with her paper fan. Next to her, was her eighteen-year old cousin, Abigail. Since this ceremony was only for the higher class, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Abigail wasn't wealthy, since she was the daughter of a Lord. Younger, and a bit smaller than Elizabeth, she was just a beautiful, young woman.

[POOHEAD189]

The newly christened Commodore Norrington stepped into the center line, before saluting with his sword, and about facing. His march was stern and resolute, but held an air of professionalism and responsibility. He looked a fine man in his uniform, and did not seem haughty at all for this most auspicious of occasions. The big to-do at the fort had every high class citizen present, as well as many of the Red Coat soldiers. Abigail Ashe watched the ceremony with a light interest, curious on the meaning of such a display.

Below in the town, young Will had stopped for a moment to buy a few things needed for the shop, and heard the trumpets from up above. He sighed. Elizabeth would be up there, attending the ceremony to the new Commodore. He shouldn't exactly feel jealous. She was meant for someone high class, whether or not she chose Norrington. It would never be him, he knew. "Thank you." he told the merchant, before continuing his way back to the shop and his master. He still needed to practice his sword work this day.

[AngelBites15]

Meanwhile, at a dock, the mystery woman made her way down, trying to cooly pass two marines who were on sentry duty. When she was about to saunter passed them, they were immediately alert, running up to block her path. "This dock is off-limits to civilians", one of them told her. "I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t know. If I see one, I shall inform you immediately", she cooly said with a hint of innocence in her accented voice as she tried to move around them, but they blocked her again. How was she going to do this? Now, she knew.

"Apparently there’s some sort of event up at the fort, right? How could it be that two upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves, did not merit an invitation?", she half-curiously asked them. "Someone has to make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians", the other marine responded to her. "And that's a fine goal, sweetheart, but it seems to me, a ship like that", she gestured to the Dauntless in the distance. "...makes this one a bit downgraded, really", she commented while gesturing to the Interceptor, perched at the dock.

"The Dauntless is the power in these waters. But there’s no ship that can match the Interceptor for speed", one of them said to her as he talked about the ship. "I’ve heard of one, supposed to be very fast, nigh uncatchable...the Fancy", she gave a breathed out the name. Clearly, they were confused. Not ringing a bell. "A ship with torn, black sails. Captained by a man, who's so evil, that hell itself spat him back out", she told them with grim in her eyes.

One of them scoffed. "No", he chuckled with amusement. "It's a real ship, you know", the other told him. "I've seen it. Black sails, it had", the other turned to him. "Oh? And no ship that's captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out could possibly have black sails, therefore couldn't possibly be any other ship than the Fancy. Is that what you're saying?", he patronized him. None of them noticed the woman slipping past them unnoticed as they continued to argue. "No", he answered.

"Like I said, there’s no ship that match the Intercept..", he trailed off when he noticed that she wasn't there. Looking around, they spotted her standing at the wheel of the Interceptor, casually examining the mechanism. "Hey! You!", she looked over at them with exaggerated, innocent surprise. They hurried towards her and raised their guns at her. "Get away from there! You don't have permission to be aboard!", they told her. "I’m so sorry, it’s just...it’s such a pretty boat. I mean, ship", she innocently corrected.

"What's your name?", one of them asked. "Smith. Or Smithy, if you like", she responded casually. "What's your purpose in Port Royal? And no...lies", they demanded. She just smiled coyly with charm. "Alright. It is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise, pilfer my weasely black guts out", she answered with a bit of a ramble. "We said, no lies!", one of them told her. "Think she's telling the truth", the other said. "If she were telling the truth, she wouldn't have told us", the other argued. "Unless, you wouldn't believe the truth even if I told it to you?", the mystery woman cut in as they seem to consider it. It wasn't exactly the truth...

[POOHEAD189]

As the Ceremony concluded, young Abigail Ashe decided to get some fresh air (if she could get any at all!) and a fine view from atop the seaside parapets at the edge of the fort. The sea breeze was nice on her skin, and it made the loose fringes of her dark hair sway. It would be perfect if this corset was not so constricting on her bosom and lungs.

She was almost scared off the cliff by the approaching Commodore's footsteps. "Lady Ashe, I hope I do not disturb you." he said.

She sucked in a breath with effort. "No, of course not Commodore. Congratulations are in order, I believe sir." He gave her a smile. "Thank you my lady. I...hope I am not putting you in an awkward position. But I have a question for you, if you may answer me."

She fanned herself, unsure of to what he was asking. She surely hoped he was inquiring on how she could survive in the corset. "Go on sir."

"I was wondering if you'd be so kind to me as to tell me if you know Miss Swann's opinion of me?" he asked, seeming quite bashful for such a tall and handsome gentleman.

"Oh, well I believe she thinks of you as a fine man." she said, gazing out at the ocean. Norrington gave her a look, and then looked away as he began speaking again. "Truly? She said that?" he asked, before clearing his throat. "I would be lying if I was saying that it does not bring me great joy. Could you tell me exactly what she told you?"

Abigail Ashe unfortunately, had already begun plummeting into the ocean.

[AngelBites15]

Unaware of the scene behind them, the mystery woman continued on her usual cunning maneuvers as she was leaning on one of her forearms against the deck's side-rail. It was one of those tricks where she would charismatically drive people into conversations and inspire them. "...and then they worshipped me", she finished with a shrug, just until they hear the sound of something hitting the water, narrowly missing the jagged rocks, making them turn their attention to the source of the sound.

[POOHEAD189]

Abigail Ashe hit the water with a splash (rhyme) and began sinking down, weighed and pull downwards by her restrictive clothing. She struggled and struggled, but her movements began to slow and cease as she found herself unable to be free of that cursed dress and corset. Darkness began to take her...

[AngelBites15]

The brunette-haired woman and the sentries looked over the side of the ship and notices an unconscious Abigail sinking deeper into the water. "Can you save her?", she asked them in curiosity. "I can't swim", he simply answered as his comrade shakes his head. Neither does he? So be it. Not surprised, the female gave a groan of frustration. "Prides of the King's Navy, you are. Do not lose these", she first scoffed before handing them her pistol, and sword belt. Climbing onto the railing, she dove into the water.

As Abigail drifts down, still unconscious, her round necklace slipped loose from her bodice. Except it wasn't just a necklace. As it turns slowly, a skull was visible. A shaft of filtered sunlight hits it, and it glints. Trying to register what's going on, the sentries looked at each other, before a gust of wind comes up, and they looked at the British flag, holding their hats. Nearby, Norrington rushes down to the pier, being followed by his men.

Abigail's unmoving form hits the bottom of the shallow ocean. The brunette-haired woman swam down to her as fast as she could, and eventually wrapped an arm around her. The girl's weight was light, which helped her rescuer get a better advantage. Making for the surface, she struggled, making slow progress. The dress this girl was wearing was too heavy, and the water was weighing them down. Forced to be submerged, she forced it open, and skinned Abigail out of it, kicking it away, leaving her in her elbow-sleeved underdress.

As she surfaced, the brunette was exhausted, as the sentries helped her haul Abigail out of the water. Laying the girl carefully on her back, the sentries tried to check if she was breathing. "She's not breathing!", one of them called out. "Move!", pushing them aside, the brunette slips one her knives from its sheath. Kneeling over the unconscious girl, she slit the corset down the middle with it, and forcefully yanked it open to allow Abigail to gain air for her crushed lungs.

[POOHEAD189]

"Sir, the rocks!" Gillette said, halting Commdore Norrington. The man had nearly jumped off and attempted to save her himself. "It's a miracle she missed them!" Despite his heroic tendencies, Norrington had to adhere to the logic of his right hand. He couldn't right save her if they were both dead. "To the docks! Now!" he cried, sprinting off with the men scrambling to catch up. Governor Swann and Elizabeth were bewildered, and began asking questions as to the whereabouts of Abigail and where exactly the men were going. When they found out, they promptly followed.

---

Abigail's world was dark and cold, until she felt the immense pressure from her chest suddenly cease. Water splurted out of her throat, and she gasped for air, hacking and coughing. The young girl had felt death's cold embrace until she had been relieved of the corset, and she looked up to see her Savior's face just before the soldiers had stepped onto the docks.

[AngelBites15]

Just by seeing the young girl cough up the water, the mystery woman knew for a fact that the damn corsets made for the English women, were not suitable in a place like Port Royal. Many times, she has worn tight corsets, but that didn't she would wear one now. Or ever, for that reason.

The brunette tossed the torn corset aside, so it was laying next to Abigail. Impressed and dumbfounded, the sentries didn't speak for a moment. "Never would have thought of that", one of them admitted. "Clearly, you've never been to Singapore. Impressed?", she rolled her eyes before looking back at the young girl laying before her. But before she thought of anything else, something gold, with a skull, was right before her, exposed. Taking the round medallion in her hand, she looked back to Abigail. "Where did you find this?", she softly demanded.

[POOHEAD189]

Abigail was just getting the color back to her cheeks and the wit to her head when this strange, roguish savior of a woman asked about her medallion. She didn't have time to answer before there was a sword to the woman's throat. "On your feet." Commodore Norrington ordered the woman, his face looking as if it had been carved from granite. The men behind him had swords drawn and muskets at the ready. A dashing young blonde woman with someone who must have been the Governor were behind them, looking on with curiosity and wariness at what was transpiring.