Post by BEX on Jul 15, 2013 13:52:38 GMT -5
Jack tried to look uncaring about the end that he was about to meet. The sardonic grin that was supposed to be plastered on his face melted itself away before it made any lasting impressions upon the murderous marine approaching him. All at once he could feel the calamity of achieving only what he’d done in his past. Of having his story cut short after barely making his way out of the introduction. There weren’t many goals he’d set for himself since setting out to sea and becoming a pirate, but the old man…he owed it to that person not fall so short of his mark.
“Fear,” Soushi said softly. He was so close now that he towered over Jack. The steel was so close to Jack’s neck that he feel the cold aura of it chilling his skin as he struggled to keep from visibly shivering, “I never expected the hardened vagrant Jack Dancer to know anything as human as fear for his life.”
Jack felt his cheek twitch with mild annoyance. What the hell is with that cold tone of voice? And why is talkin’ so damn much—get the shit over with already if you’re gonna do it, pansy! While he thought these words he dared not say them. He could never acknowledge it verbally, but the pounding of his heart, the way his fingers itched to fly to his defense—these were all signs that he wasn’t ready to die yet; he wasn’t as fearless of his existence ending as he’d let on his entire life. The fact that a marine was the one who forced him to realize this truth was galling so Jack did the only thing that he could manage with his current level of strength.
He spat in the eye of the law. “Screw you, pipsqueak. If yer gonna talk all that bullshit then ya might as well croak me now; I’ll die anyway if I gotta listen to you carry on much longer.”
The steadiness of his voice surprised him. For someone who had only just determined the value of his life he felt a surging desire to win at all costs. His eyes wandered past the outraged Soushi looking for anything that might prolong his living if even for just a second longer.
“Whoa, whoa there! I git it, mister Genius,” the stranger in the other cell called out with what sounded like genuine alarm, “How’s ‘bout you come over here and I tell what this grand scheme o’ mind is all about?”
Jack could see the considerable struggle in the Ensign’s eyes. It took every ounce of the boy’s strength to turn away, the unmistakable killing intent that had filled the room dissipating as the coolheaded devotion to upholding justice took its place once again. Letting himself sag against the stone wall as his cell door slammed shut Jack wondered what sort of plan the man had been talking about; of if he’d been bluffing just to save his life. Everything was painfully quiet as Jack strained to catch a word of what was happening, but the calm was interrupted as the entirely world groaned beneath him. Icicles shattered as they struck the floor a short distance away, but the most notable sound that Jack picked up on was the surprised yelp of pain and the clattering noise of a sword hitting the ground.
The rumbling ceased as all fell soundless once again, but now Jack’s attention was elsewhere as he made out the sound of jangling keys then a cell door clanging open before finally the soft pad of footsteps—unmarked by any discernible cadence—finally brought the smiling stranger to the front of his cell.
“Name’s Bray ‘Blackheart’—ya look awful terrible, Jack Dancer. Bohohoho!”
Seeing the keys glittering like treasures in the man’s hands, Jack’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he watched his rescuer open his cell and flip through a number keys. For a time only the sound of breathing and the wispy white cold air surrounding them in a poor imitation of fog contributed to any motion within the cell block. “What’s yer game?” Jack asked finally as another key failed to open the Seastone binds around his ankles.
The man’s knowing grin grew wider, but he didn’t answer and Jack wanted break his face for it. Something was scratching in the direction that Soushi had gone. At first it had been sporadic and seemingly unimportant, but when incomprehensible grunts began to follow the other noises Jack felt himself stiffen in anticipation. Any moment now, Den Den Mushi across the base would be alerted to the attempted escape of Jack Dancer. He drew a deep breath to calm his nerves and caught a whiff of the heavy fragrance of garlic on the cowboy hat wearing man’s breath.
“Alright. Done…and…done!” the stranger said, tipping his hat to Jack as the two pairs of cuff fell clattering onto the cold, stone ground, “Consider yerself a free man, Jack Dancer—courtesy of Bray ‘Blackheart’!”
“Fear,” Soushi said softly. He was so close now that he towered over Jack. The steel was so close to Jack’s neck that he feel the cold aura of it chilling his skin as he struggled to keep from visibly shivering, “I never expected the hardened vagrant Jack Dancer to know anything as human as fear for his life.”
Jack felt his cheek twitch with mild annoyance. What the hell is with that cold tone of voice? And why is talkin’ so damn much—get the shit over with already if you’re gonna do it, pansy! While he thought these words he dared not say them. He could never acknowledge it verbally, but the pounding of his heart, the way his fingers itched to fly to his defense—these were all signs that he wasn’t ready to die yet; he wasn’t as fearless of his existence ending as he’d let on his entire life. The fact that a marine was the one who forced him to realize this truth was galling so Jack did the only thing that he could manage with his current level of strength.
He spat in the eye of the law. “Screw you, pipsqueak. If yer gonna talk all that bullshit then ya might as well croak me now; I’ll die anyway if I gotta listen to you carry on much longer.”
The steadiness of his voice surprised him. For someone who had only just determined the value of his life he felt a surging desire to win at all costs. His eyes wandered past the outraged Soushi looking for anything that might prolong his living if even for just a second longer.
“Whoa, whoa there! I git it, mister Genius,” the stranger in the other cell called out with what sounded like genuine alarm, “How’s ‘bout you come over here and I tell what this grand scheme o’ mind is all about?”
Jack could see the considerable struggle in the Ensign’s eyes. It took every ounce of the boy’s strength to turn away, the unmistakable killing intent that had filled the room dissipating as the coolheaded devotion to upholding justice took its place once again. Letting himself sag against the stone wall as his cell door slammed shut Jack wondered what sort of plan the man had been talking about; of if he’d been bluffing just to save his life. Everything was painfully quiet as Jack strained to catch a word of what was happening, but the calm was interrupted as the entirely world groaned beneath him. Icicles shattered as they struck the floor a short distance away, but the most notable sound that Jack picked up on was the surprised yelp of pain and the clattering noise of a sword hitting the ground.
The rumbling ceased as all fell soundless once again, but now Jack’s attention was elsewhere as he made out the sound of jangling keys then a cell door clanging open before finally the soft pad of footsteps—unmarked by any discernible cadence—finally brought the smiling stranger to the front of his cell.
“Name’s Bray ‘Blackheart’—ya look awful terrible, Jack Dancer. Bohohoho!”
Seeing the keys glittering like treasures in the man’s hands, Jack’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he watched his rescuer open his cell and flip through a number keys. For a time only the sound of breathing and the wispy white cold air surrounding them in a poor imitation of fog contributed to any motion within the cell block. “What’s yer game?” Jack asked finally as another key failed to open the Seastone binds around his ankles.
The man’s knowing grin grew wider, but he didn’t answer and Jack wanted break his face for it. Something was scratching in the direction that Soushi had gone. At first it had been sporadic and seemingly unimportant, but when incomprehensible grunts began to follow the other noises Jack felt himself stiffen in anticipation. Any moment now, Den Den Mushi across the base would be alerted to the attempted escape of Jack Dancer. He drew a deep breath to calm his nerves and caught a whiff of the heavy fragrance of garlic on the cowboy hat wearing man’s breath.
“Alright. Done…and…done!” the stranger said, tipping his hat to Jack as the two pairs of cuff fell clattering onto the cold, stone ground, “Consider yerself a free man, Jack Dancer—courtesy of Bray ‘Blackheart’!”