bringmethatnpc | Stabbing the Heart

Stabbing the Heart

He'd almost made it. Jack had been sneaking across the Dutchman's deck, chest secure in hand, when Jones and his crew had spotted him.

"Looky here, boys -- a lost bird that never learned to fly!"

As they advance on him, Jack backs up against the edge of the deck -- then leaps up on the rail and wraps one hand in a particular lanyard. His sudden grin is filled with manic amusement.

"Never too late to learn, aye?" With no more warning than that, he slams the chest against the half-rotten wood brace securing the line and is promptly yanked aloft.

Unfortunately, Jones doesn't need any such trick to go wherever he wishes to on this particular ship, and as Jack turns to make his swaying way toward the tenuous safety of the mainmast, he finds himself facing the Dutchman's furious captain over the point of a sword.

"The chest-- hand it over!"

Jack backs up a step, drawing his own sword, and there's something strangely knowing in the black eyes.

"I can set you free, mate."

"My freedom was forfeit long ago!" Jones snarls, and strikes.

Now, as one battle rages on the decks below, another takes place on the yardarm of the Flying Dutchman. With a wild slash, Jack sends several wiggling tentacles from Jones's beard falling to the deck below -- one of them still clutching the key to the chest. He receives a blow in return that sends him staggering backward, and as he brings his sword up in defense Jones snaps it in two with his claw.

Having no other defense left, Jack counters the next strike by using the chest itself as club, which in turn brings it within reach of Jones, who promptly grabs it. As Jack Sparrow and Davy Jones engage in a strange tug-of-war over the chest that contains Jones's heart, Jack can't help but grin.

Bloody ridiculous, is what this is.

Evidently Jones agrees, for with a particularly harsh, violent swing, he manages to yank Jack from his perch and send him flying through the air in truth.

It's a stroke of fortune that the air's so full of invading fishy pirates, however, and as he falls Jack collides with one swinging across on a rope. In the ensuing scramble for a good grip, Jack notices a pistol shoved in the other man's belt. Black eyes widen in shock.

I know that gun!

On the instant, Jack snatches Mal's pistol free and delivers a hard blow to Clanker's head with the butt of the gun.

"Oi! My pistol!"

As the stunned pirate falls, Jack swings himself around, searching for Jones--

--there!

BANG!

Jack's a good shot, and as Mal Reynolds could tell anyone who asked, it's a good gun. The bullet goes true, knocking the chest from Davy Jones's hands and into the chaos below.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A really huge battle is the mother of invention. And when what you want is to intervene on the other side of a ruddy whirlpool, but, you know, don't want to actually put yourself in that kind of danger, shooting's pretty much it... unless there's a monkey that can't die with ideas of his own. Pintel and Ragetti scramble to load the cannon and light the powder as little Jack the monkey clambers into the barrel.

"Fire!" yells somebody, it doesn't really matter who at this point, and the shot explodes out across the gaping maelstrom, Jack shrieking joyously as he dives for a crewman's head, knocking them both over the ship's railings.

Will steps back just long enough to appreciate this excellent maneuvre.

"Thank you, Jack." Well, everyone else says it.

Quickly he runs on, towards the aft of the Dutchman

The battle for the Flying Dutchman rages on in the torrential rain, that clouds almost all visibility beyond a couple of feet.

So it's no surprise the rather fine sword is left unnoticedby most people. Fortunately, it is found by Gibson, a lieutenant with the East India Company who is hoping to find a position in the Royal Navy after this nightmare detail.

Gibson has always prided himself on his knowledge of sword craft, and he's distracted from the battle by this sterling piece of work. As he picks it up in both hands, he can tell the balance is perfect, and reflects that it's probably worth two of the engagement ring he just spent his last three months wages on, for Alice back in Liverpool.

It seems such a shame someone left it lying around like that.

Elsewhere on the Flying Dutchman -- it's captain seeks what he believes in destiny; his heart in a box, and the man who luck is sure to have find it.

His own blade is wielded indiscriminately (Life is cruel, why should the afterlife be any different?) as he tears through his men and others alike in an effort to get to that damn box.

Lieutenant Gibson doesn't even have time to react. One moment moment he's admiring a well made sword, the next it's grabbed out of his hands by one of those disgusting fish men (or was it Jones himself?), and he's crumpling to the ground, choking on blood from his punctured chest.

At least Alice will get a pension.

Pistol safely stowed away, Jack's clinging to the line with both hands as he swings around in a circle, far above the deck.

It's all madness down there, but from up here he can see everything perfectly well-- and he's got a chest to find.

The only problem he's still working on is how to get from here to there when he does find it.

Still carrying the chest tightly, Will races on to the quarter deck, mind racing while he tries to work out how to get it to Jack.

He hears something heavy landing on the deck behind him, and he glances over quickly to see if that's Captain Sparrow.

stand by to repel boarders, all hands. boarders, orders. protect the chest. protect the ship

There's a sword in his hand, but the angle is wrong; he strikes the invader with his fist, instead, sending him reeling, knocking the chest from his hands.

the Dutchman needs a living heart, or there'll be no captain

Will sprawls on the deck for only a second, fighting instinct returning quickly as he rips his sword out and leaps up.

When he sees who it is attacking him, he knows he can't swing to kill, but he can still parry his father's sword high, and leap quickly back away from the next aimless swing.

"It's me!" he says urgently, but his words appear lost in the tempest. Trying again, he pushes his father's sword down, holding it down with both hands.

"It's Will," he says, tender and impatient all at once. "Your son."

A barnacled hand reaches up and closes on a handful of Will's hair, jerking his head backward and then hurling him with bruising force into the wall of the cabin. The sword comes whistling down a bare instant later, forcing him to dodge out of the way.

There's nothing behind those eyes but the Dutchman.

part of the crew!

If Jones is aware of Turner versus Turner, he gives no heed. Truly, he hears only one thing in the din -- the beating of his own, damned heart.

The chest is there; he just has to get to it -- and will kill any man, his own or a boarder, to get to it.

It's close; he can feel it.

It's getting crowded up in the ropes. Jack plants a booted foot in the chest of a rather fishy-looking pirate that sends him spinning off in another direction, and continues his frantic search.

"...ah-HA!" He spots Jones striding with purpose along the deck, making for the chest. Jack looks up, only to see two more pirates launching toward him, one from each side.

"Eaargh!" He slides several feet down his own line, which gets yanked violently as the two pirates crash into each other above and spiral around in a twisted circle. Jack uses the sudden jerk to swing up over the yardarm and then down toward the deck below, landing solidly on his feet between Jones and the chest.

He grins wickedly and draws his sword--

--only to be immediately reminded that Jones had broken it in the battle above.

Bugger.

If he were less determined and single-minded, he might be amused at Jack's misfortune -- especially as the the instrument of that sword's blunting.

As it is, all he can think of is pursuit, which he launches into with only a feral, animal noise; chasing Jack from one end of the ship to the other.

After all; Jack is only mortal and must tire. Jones? Jones will never get winded, will never need rest. Such is the pact between Dutchman and captain.

The deck beneath his feet is treacherous, being soaked with water (and other things), and as a result Jack's flailing his arms wildly for balance as he runs.

He dodges around the capstan and shelters behind it, dodging back and forth to keep it between himself and Jones.

Shouldn't you know better, Jack, then to run from the Dutchman's captain on his own ship?

Jones gets tired of the cat and mouse game -- the back and forth bores him. So instead, he simply starts to march through the capstan, leering with every step.

Didn't think of that, didya, Sparra'?

Jack looks slightly queasy at this approach.

"Eeew."

But as soon as Jones reaches the middle of the capstan, Jack Sparrow grins. He snatches hold of the nearest bit of wooden leverage and sets the capstan spinning around in a circle-- and Davy Jones with it.

"Ha!"

Jack's smugly triumphant look lasts until the spinning capstan brings Jones around to face him again with a snarl, at which point his reaction is rather different.

"AAAH!"

With a shriek Jack's off, scrambling frantically away across the deck, with Jones in close pursuit.

Things are not going well for the employees of the EIC.

They're not going particularly badly - the nasty fish-people appear to be winning, keeping control of the Dutchman, but they're also running out of pirates to slaughter, and are turning on all the normal humans, regardless of allegience.

Mullroy and Murtogg are of an accord: better to risk it over on the Black Pearl and its legendarily evil Captain, than to stay here and definitely be killed by an ugly fish-man.

They grab the same rope, nod wordlessly to each other, and swing across to the other ship.

Mullroy decides it's all Murtogg's fault in miscalculating the swing so that they hit the side of the hull instead of landing on the deck.

What is unfortunate for Mullroy and Murtogg is a stroke of good luck for Elizabeth, all things considered. She's been fighting on the Pearl, but has had enough of not knowing how Will is doing. Grabbing the recently arrived rope, she looks over her shoulder at Gibbs and the still raging battle on deck. Her mind is made up, but it would be nice to know that she's not sending anyone to their doom (this time) by following her heart.

Gibbs sees Elizabeth ready to leap in to battle. It really makes no sense for her to do it, but given that everything she's done makes no sense and still seems to work...

"Go!"

He hopes he'll see her again.

Jack's probably hoping to see her again too -- or maybe he's just hoping to catch sight of that tentacle with the damned key creeping around the deck.

Might be hard with Jones in hot pursuit, though.

Hard's a good word for it, especially given how uncertain the footing is. Jack dodges a blow and turns his movement into a forward somersault, diving across the deck and snatching up a broken piece of railing as he regains his feet.

He spins around and raises it up in defense just in time to block a blow from Jones's sword.

Rain pelting her face, Elizabeth doesn't see much when she lets go of the rope at the end of the swing and lands firmly on the Dutchman's deck. When she looks up, she finds herself confronted with Davy Jones himself.

This ought to be interesting.

Will is going to be so annoyed that she didn't find another place to land.

On the other hand, a right misogyinst like jones finds this is a great place for her to land. Distracted from Jack with this new prize, the fishman roars, "Harridan! Ye'll see no mercy from me!"

He makes good on those words with the vicious attacks he leads in with.

While a small part of Elizabeth is floundering at the thought of fighting the legendary Davy Jones, the rest is ready and willing, eager to jump into the fray. She draws her sword and yells:

"That's why I brought this!"

She blocks the blow and fights passionately, because if there's one thing she knows, it's that she has a great deal for which to live.

Bugger.

At this point Jack's flat on the deck and trying to regain his breath, having been sent flying by a blow not from Jones's sword, but from his clawed hand.

As he lies there, he finally, finally spots the sneaky thieving tentacle, inching its way across the deck with the key in tow.

Ah-HA!

Unnoticed by anyone else, Jack crawls after it.

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