"Not my style, I've learned--" he starts, before being interrupted by (no one there's no one and nothing nowhere) Mr. Sparrow.
("Beggin' y'r pardon, sir. Perhaps if you gave a man another chance...")
Jack whirls on him with teeth bared in a feral smile. "Shall I?"
He draws his sword and with flashing motion runs (the empty air) Mr. Sparrow through. One brown hand tightens on (nothing) the dying man's shoulder as Jack leans foward, saying viciously into Sparrow's ear,
"It's that sort of thinking that got us into this mess."
As the lifeless body falls to the deck--
(Nothing happens and nothing anywhere stirs.)
(There's no wind, no sound, only the baking still heat of the desert.)
--Jack whirls on Del, glaring at her.
"See what happens when there's a lack of discipline? I've learned me lesson this time, I have!"
This isn't the madcap and manic Jack Sparrow that the stories speak of.
no subject
("Beggin' y'r pardon, sir. Perhaps if you gave a man another chance...")
Jack whirls on him with teeth bared in a feral smile. "Shall I?"
He draws his sword and with flashing motion runs (the empty air) Mr. Sparrow through. One brown hand tightens on (nothing) the dying man's shoulder as Jack leans foward, saying viciously into Sparrow's ear,
"It's that sort of thinking that got us into this mess."
As the lifeless body falls to the deck--
(There's no wind, no sound, only the baking still heat of the desert.)
--Jack whirls on Del, glaring at her.
"See what happens when there's a lack of discipline? I've learned me lesson this time, I have!"
This isn't the madcap and manic Jack Sparrow that the stories speak of.
This is a dangerous madman.