Yay, Jack/Ana! And after OST, too! That in itself is great.
Jack obviously always attracts chaos - or is attracted by it? *g* I like this aspect of his character very much, also: that he does not want to kill. He will do it if there's no choice, but he's definitely the sort who will think about it afterwards, even if he killed a truly evil bastard. Very considerate of Anamaria to arrange some little distraction. *g*
What I also really liked was that bit about how they had to flee the market, because Jack broke some taboo and/or flirted with the wrong woman. *g* This could be a whole new story, and it reminds me of those throwaway lines in PotC about impersonating clerics or becoming chief and the like. Nice! :)
I think I like this pairing because Anamaria is free of the danger of being Jossed. I had to set this after OST, because Jack has his ship back, and I think it would take years for Anamaria and Jack to get this comfortable with each other.
Yes, things do seem to fall apart in Jack's vicinity. He did seem the most reluctant to kill anyone in all of CotBP. But sometimes he has to do it. I always loved how tragic and solemn Barbossa's death was.
Jack does deserve some distraction after all that :D
I do love throwing in little bits of backstory. That does seem to be a part of the PotC universe.
The kitty seems to be becoming a necessity in my post CotBP fics. Meow!
It was overdone. It was absurd. It was exactly perfect. *g* Anamaria begins to think Jacky way, finally.
a mangy, scrawny, tattered great-grandmother cat I'm lost... Now I'll be still seeing a welter of kittens. And greatkittens. And great-grandkittens. Not necessarily mangy, scrawny an tattered, at least for a while at the very start. (*G!* The Pearl harassed by a band of little, inquisitive, enterprising, unrestrainable, ever-innocent fluffy demons.)
She had not met Jack’s eyes, after-never did like to glimpse the place he had to go in order to do that kind of work. I do love this. Yes. And this. Then he’d shed his bloodstained clothing like it was poison against his skin. And this. Jack Sparrow never let the calluses grow over the discomfort he felt when all else but killing failed him. Perfect wording.
Such a rat bastard as that man who had died today did not deserve to give Jack Sparrow a sleepless night. So Anamaria would give him one-she smirked to herself.*melts* Ahh, yes, that's
( ... )
Now I'll have to write some kitten!fic Ohhh!!! Meow! *rubs herself against the Muse and presents her a cat biscuit on a silver tray*
For a pirate, Jack is the least bloodthirsty person in CotBP. I'm glad you liked how that worked here. Even more than Will the Knight on a White Horse. I love this in Jack, it's one of his fundamental features.
I've always hesitated to take Jack and Anamaria to this point in their relationship. To tell the truth, I was surprised. And all the more delighted. Their relation, including their mutual silent agreement as for not-passing this point is one of trade marks of your fics, next to Cat, gorgeous views of Jack, ship life and developed OCs. So it's Graal of sort, the ever eluding horizon - a bit (ha. ha. ha. a bit, yeeah...) frustrating yet saving the story from, hm, untensioning. In the light of it, this fic is all the more - oh, more! - special. I'll be the first to say that Jack never was and never will be the one woman type, but it is so much heartwarming to see them, still and always together,
( ... )
>The light of every lantern and candle in the great cabin of the Black Pearl turned the dark mahogany to gold.<
>It was overdone. It was absurd. It was exactly perfect. <
>(Jack wouldn’t ever let her say the name of it-said Gibbs would never forgive him) kept slinking about the back of her head. It was a play about how a murder had undone a man and a woman,<
ships, too? i thought that was only in the theater.
>when Jack had wandered into the melee-disturbances were magnets to his iron filings. <
>never did like to glimpse the place he had to go in order to do that kind of work.<
shiver...
>The sunset sea had slowly been dyed from guilty incarnadine to a rich, dark violet and then a velvet indigo. Tomorrow it would be turquoise again. Absolution indeed. And surely the perfumes of Arabia could drive off the smell of blood for them tonight. and the continuation of the "M" play
( ... )
Here, mousie! Have a little cheese with your whine :D You do realize there is now a new Muse to add to the Rogue's Gallery when that paw heals: The Mushy Plushy Romance Muse. She is rather Rubenesque, but wears a Valkyrie's helm and carries a cross-bow.
As for the allusions to the Scottish play, you know me. Can't resist throwing in Shakespeare with the kitchen sink.
I'm glad this gave you shivers and lines you enjoyed. That cat is becoming to my fics what fish are to Christensen's art--she always shows up someplace.
Thank you for all the lovely comments. The MPR Muse is dining on cream puffs--to keep up her Venus of Willendorf figure, you understand.
I do hope the bits of more I've already written will coalesce into something publishable. After all, I don't know how long my ears can stand the violin playing that way!
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Why should she be different from every other cat in the world?
'... the play they were reading (Jack wouldn't ever let her say the name of it-said Gibbs would never forgive him)'
'Macbeth', apparently. Nice to know the 'perfumes of Arabia' worked better for Jack & Ana.
'The two of them had walked away from that fight...'
I rather doubt this is what the cautionary advice refers to. :S
'Jack Sparrow never let the calluses grow over the discomfort he felt when all else but killing failed him.'
I guess that's why the pirate remains a Good Man at heart. A fine thing that he has Ana to help him through these times.
'Dear God, he was so bloody beautiful... And so bloody annoying. Let us not forget that.'
Certainly not!
This is going straight to my Favorites list. Thank you for writing it!
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Of course! Every cat I know owns the world.
Yes, it is the Scottish play (Gibbs would never, etc.)! Yes, Jack and Ana will not be going mad with hand washing :D
Jack as a good man and a pirate is such an intriguing paradox. I do like to explore where those two aspects of his character come into conflict.
I'm delighted you enjoyed this. Thank you for the lovely feedback.
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Jack obviously always attracts chaos - or is attracted by it? *g* I like this aspect of his character very much, also: that he does not want to kill. He will do it if there's no choice, but he's definitely the sort who will think about it afterwards, even if he killed a truly evil bastard. Very considerate of Anamaria to arrange some little distraction. *g*
What I also really liked was that bit about how they had to flee the market, because Jack broke some taboo and/or flirted with the wrong woman. *g*
This could be a whole new story, and it reminds me of those throwaway lines in PotC about impersonating clerics or becoming chief and the like. Nice! :)
Cat'o'nine! <3
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Yes, things do seem to fall apart in Jack's vicinity. He did seem the most reluctant to kill anyone in all of CotBP. But sometimes he has to do it. I always loved how tragic and solemn Barbossa's death was.
Jack does deserve some distraction after all that :D
I do love throwing in little bits of backstory. That does seem to be a part of the PotC universe.
The kitty seems to be becoming a necessity in my post CotBP fics. Meow!
Thank you so very much for the lovely comments.
Reply
It was overdone. It was absurd. It was exactly perfect.
*g* Anamaria begins to think Jacky way, finally.
a mangy, scrawny, tattered great-grandmother cat
I'm lost... Now I'll be still seeing a welter of kittens. And greatkittens. And great-grandkittens. Not necessarily mangy, scrawny an tattered, at least for a while at the very start. (*G!* The Pearl harassed by a band of little, inquisitive, enterprising, unrestrainable, ever-innocent fluffy demons.)
She had not met Jack’s eyes, after-never did like to glimpse the place he had to go in order to do that kind of work.
I do love this. Yes. And this. Then he’d shed his bloodstained clothing like it was poison against his skin.
And this. Jack Sparrow never let the calluses grow over the discomfort he felt when all else but killing failed him.
Perfect wording.
Such a rat bastard as that man who had died today did not deserve to give Jack Sparrow a sleepless night. So Anamaria would give him one-she smirked to herself.*melts* Ahh, yes, that's ( ... )
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Ohhh!!! Meow! *rubs herself against the Muse and presents her a cat biscuit on a silver tray*
For a pirate, Jack is the least bloodthirsty person in CotBP. I'm glad you liked how that worked here.
Even more than Will the Knight on a White Horse. I love this in Jack, it's one of his fundamental features.
I've always hesitated to take Jack and Anamaria to this point in their relationship.
To tell the truth, I was surprised. And all the more delighted. Their relation, including their mutual silent agreement as for not-passing this point is one of trade marks of your fics, next to Cat, gorgeous views of Jack, ship life and developed OCs. So it's Graal of sort, the ever eluding horizon - a bit (ha. ha. ha. a bit, yeeah...) frustrating yet saving the story from, hm, untensioning. In the light of it, this fic is all the more - oh, more! - special. I'll be the first to say that Jack never was and never will be the one woman type, but it is so much heartwarming to see them, still and always together, ( ... )
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>It was overdone. It was absurd. It was exactly perfect. <
>(Jack wouldn’t ever let her say the name of it-said Gibbs would never forgive him) kept slinking about the back of her head. It was a play about how a murder had undone a man and a woman,<
ships, too? i thought that was only in the theater.
>when Jack had wandered into the melee-disturbances were magnets to his iron filings. <
>never did like to glimpse the place he had to go in order to do that kind of work.<
shiver...
>The sunset sea had slowly been dyed from guilty incarnadine to a rich, dark violet and then a velvet indigo. Tomorrow it would be turquoise again. Absolution indeed. And surely the perfumes of Arabia could drive off the smell of blood for them tonight. and the continuation of the "M" play ( ... )
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Gibbs is so very superstitious, he probably doesn't want to take *any* chances.
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As for the allusions to the Scottish play, you know me. Can't resist throwing in Shakespeare with the kitchen sink.
I'm glad this gave you shivers and lines you enjoyed. That cat is becoming to my fics what fish are to Christensen's art--she always shows up someplace.
Thank you for all the lovely comments. The MPR Muse is dining on cream puffs--to keep up her Venus of Willendorf figure, you understand.
I do hope the bits of more I've already written will coalesce into something publishable. After all, I don't know how long my ears can stand the violin playing that way!
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