Commentary meme
raphe1 requested this. As it is a snippet and not in my memories (it never even got a title, poor little thing), the original is here.
Fandom: Pirates
Warnings: Aftermath of James tourture, Jose Gaspar, typos, and totally unfinished.
From the first time I saw Pirates, I’ve had this plot-shark wherein Norrington gets captured by pirates and is rescued by Jack. Not an uncommon idea I know, however, I always believed that Jack would be unable to actually carry out the action himself for various reasons which I forget now.*g* I think it had something to due with the fact that by the time this happens there are already rumours circling about regarding himself and Norrington, because I do love the idea of them playing chase across the Caribbean. Jose had already been introduced in one of my Heathen Gods Drabbles, and in my mind’s eye he was the perfect man for the job. After all, most would think it was due to his wanting to take care of the Commodore himself as revenge for the death of a dear shipmate, and for the glory and status it would bring him. Plus, mmm, Banderas as Jose interacting with James. *happy Monkey*
Also, please note that James DOESN'T TALK! This was my first real attempt at writing PotC fic (or any fic for that matter), and I was really, really nervous about getting Norrington's voice right. Thus, he doesn't talk. Brilliant logic, eh? *facepalm*
It was a truly unsettling feeling.
Sound familiar? Okay, not quite, but there are certain phrases that I have a bad habit of defaulting to.
Whatever they had given him to dull the pain of the lash-wounds on his back, the pain of his cracked ribs, of his many bruises, had apparently forgotten to go to his head. His body was quite blissfully asleep, laying on the gently rocking cot, but his mind just would not stop working.
I hate these kind of moments, yet oddly enjoy them as well; they are just so wierd, and yes, unsettling. IIRC, I had a bad bout of sleep-paralysis the night before.
It kept turning over and over a million different questions: How had the bastards known where he was? Where were the rest of his crew? Were they alright? How the bloody hell did Sparrow know? Was he in on the plan from the beginning? For that matter, why was Jose Gaspar, known to be one of the more ruthless members of an already highly ruthless group of lowlifes, helping Sparrow instead of cheering on the continued torture of a much hated pirate-hunter? What was between them?
Ooooh, background. I find it impossible to write anything without it having a fully formed backstory; even my drabbles do, no matter how much of a PWP or slice o’ life I want them to be. Also, I have a sense that James’s brain never shuts up at the best of times.
“El Pardal y mi?”
And watch Monkey pretend she speaks Spanish. ;-) I didn’t want to have too much Spanish in Jose’s speech, but this felt right. When I looked up “Sparrow” in my handy-dandy Eng-to-Sp dictionary, I discovered that in common speech it is also used to denote a “sly fellow”. Perfection! Especially seeing as this story was going to contain a stab a Jack’s origin. After I posted this,
doolabug mentioned, er somewhere, that there was actual a pirate with the last name of
Pardal in the early 18th cen. Groovy.
The sudden voice, soft though it was, jolted James fully awake. He opened his eyes, then shut them quickly. Even though the daylight was muted in this cabin, it was still far more than his eyes could deal with. They had grown far too accustomed to the pitch-blackness of his cell. He pulled the light blanket up, trying, with feeble strength, to cover his head. The soft cotton rasped along his back , then his shoulders, and he found he could move it no higher than his neck.
I’ve noticed that I put a lot of light cues in my writing, usually dealing with the quality of the sunlight as most of my fics take place during the day. Maybe it’s from growing up in Florida where you just can’t get away from it. I don’t know, but they always seem to show up.
The pain came creeping up then - sliding, pushing from were the medicine had buried it. He curled in on himself, wanting nothing more than to escape back into that weird, unsetteling sleep he had known moments before. He might have been slowly going mad, but there had been, at least, a decided lack of pain. And nausea. He felt it roll up from the center of his being, roll up and demand escape. The dry retching shook every bone and every fiber, and gave strength to the pain.
I also use a good bit of kinetic cues, whether they have to do with the sense of touch or with motion. I’m a kinetic learner and it is the prime way I understand the world around me. I’ll get lost when I’m reading sometimes when not enough cues (for me) are given.
Still, through all that, his warriors senses were aware of the pirate's movements. Aware of the soft sound of his bare feet on the wood as he moved through the cabin.
Then there are the sound cues. Once more, these always show up, although they are like the light cues in that there are a few important one, but they don’t pepper my entire story the way the kinetic cues do.
I must say I’m still not happy with the phrase “his warrior’s senses”. It just doesn’t feel right. And OMG all the little typos! I really do need to get a beta reader. At the time, however, I was just so happy I could write anything that I just wanted to get it up. Also, from all my years of writing papers at the last minute, I just never really thought of it. Stupid Monkey. *g*
Aware of the slight creak as he settled himself on the cannon overwhich James's cot hung.
Please kindly note the hanging cot. Now, I’m no great hand at nautical stuff; I’m still quite firmly in the neophyte range; and most times any errors I DO notice just roll of my back. I understand very well how difficult it all is, and how just when you think you are getting it your realise that nope, sorry, wrong. I swear the sailors did it just to be bastards. However, for some reason, beds on sailing ships drive me absolutely batty, no matter how much fun they are to tie people to. I don’t really know when hammocks and hanging cots came into use, but holy shit to bed drive me up the wall. I do realise that this is a completely personal issue, and refuse to let it ruin a story for me, but... Maybe it’s a hold over from trying to take a nap on the family sailboat when I was a child, and getting repeatedly bashed against the side from the chop. Or perhaps I am just a great big dorque tm insidian.
Aware, even, of the heat of his body as he reached over James to place a gentle hand around a surprisingly unmauled wrist. James was taken by surprise, though, when one of Gaspar's calloused fingers began to trace a small, slow circle on the inside of said wrist. Surprised by the feather light hand that ghosted through his hair.
Jose is such an evil flirt with power issues. You know he’s getting turned on.
“Pobrecito, what they did to you.”, the pirate's voice was still quiet and, unbelievably, compassionate.
Pobrecito is one of the few words that I consistently remember and use from all the my years of Spanish. It means literally “poor little boy”, but in speech it is, hmm, I guess slightly condescending though that’s not quite right. It’s like when a little kid skins their knee and are crying like they just lost their entire leg. People often say “Oh you poor thing” with compassion, but one part of their brain is going “Jesus fuck kid, it’s just a scrape.” Yeah like that. Jose is feeling compassion, and he knows what a bad flogging feels like, but he still feels superior in away. Of course, he always feels superior, the asshole. *g*
“Had it been I? I would have made it quick. A pistol shot here,” James felt a thumb reach out and caresses the side of his temple, “and it would have all been over. I wanted to, when I saw you in that pit. When I saw what they had done. You deserve no less. But I had made a promise.”
This here is very much my Jose. He’s as ruthless as Barbossa, but he still has this sense of honour. He’d have no problem with killing Norrington, but as he sees the man as a worthy adversary, he has a great respect for him, and would only kill him in what could be seen as a proper manner. He also DOES have compassion, and what he saw DID shock him. No man should be treated like that. Well, no gentleman at any rate. Here, also, I wanted to show that while he may just be out for himself, Jose means his word when he gives it. It is not something he does lightly. Oh, he’ll back stab people, remember ruthless bastard, but if he gives his word he will keep to it. He rarely gives his word. This would have been more apparent had I followed the story through.
James felt himself calming under the gentle caresses. He felt the nausea easing back till it was almost nothing. But his mind still burned. He wanted to ask Why? Why are you doing this? However, he found he was unable to make a sound.
“Sssh, you are curious, si? I know I would be, if our places were reversed. So I will tell you a story, so that maybe you will be able to rest a bit.”
I was actually very proud of Jose’s voice through this. It felt not only very him, but also there was something about the rhythm that felt very right for some whose native language is Spanish. This is a big element for me. I hate when people try to write dialectically, unless there is a very good reason for it. The same effect can be given by sentence flow and word choice. This is why I am so proud of Captain Jack and the Pearl. While I know it may not be completely true to the Pan-Caribbean dialect, it seems to give the feel of it. There are some odd word constructions, but those are indigenous to the speech. It’s when I start reading “dem”s and “dere”s that I get turned off. Anyways...
/mini-rant. And awww, Joses is being sweet. *snort* He’s actually a big old gossip. No, I believe he does feel a certain kindness for James, and is impressed by what the man had survived, so that here he really is trying to ease the pain. He’s still a big old gossip though.
James heard Gaspar shift a bit, to make himself more comfortable. He left his hands were they were, however, and for that James was embaressingly greatful. They were the first kind touches he had known in far too long.
This last line is another one of those that creeps up on me all the time, and I have to beat it back with a stick. In this case, it was meant to hint that James had been in captivity for a good deal of time.
Now here is the truth behind this story. At the time I wrote it there was a discussion going on regarding circumcision, and whether Jack was cut or not. Someone mentioned how if he was, they would love to read a story about how it happened, seeing as it was not a common European practice at the time. I said I’d give it a go, and this was born.
This is why I’m not really all that good with challenges: my brain goes to odd places and I can never stick to the actual request. Notice Captain Jack and the Pearl again; enigel asked for a satire poking fun at all of the fanon conventions, and I gave her a folktale. *g* Sure, there would be mention of how Jack lost his fore-skin, but it was never going to be the centre piece of the story, despite being it’s genesis. It was a background story involving Barbary pirates and mutiny and Jack as a youngster.
Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed and found this at all interesting. As this was actually quite fun... Anymore requests?
Fandom: Pirates
Warnings: Aftermath of James tourture, Jose Gaspar, typos, and totally unfinished.
From the first time I saw Pirates, I’ve had this plot-shark wherein Norrington gets captured by pirates and is rescued by Jack. Not an uncommon idea I know, however, I always believed that Jack would be unable to actually carry out the action himself for various reasons which I forget now.*g* I think it had something to due with the fact that by the time this happens there are already rumours circling about regarding himself and Norrington, because I do love the idea of them playing chase across the Caribbean. Jose had already been introduced in one of my Heathen Gods Drabbles, and in my mind’s eye he was the perfect man for the job. After all, most would think it was due to his wanting to take care of the Commodore himself as revenge for the death of a dear shipmate, and for the glory and status it would bring him. Plus, mmm, Banderas as Jose interacting with James. *happy Monkey*
Also, please note that James DOESN'T TALK! This was my first real attempt at writing PotC fic (or any fic for that matter), and I was really, really nervous about getting Norrington's voice right. Thus, he doesn't talk. Brilliant logic, eh? *facepalm*
It was a truly unsettling feeling.
Sound familiar? Okay, not quite, but there are certain phrases that I have a bad habit of defaulting to.
Whatever they had given him to dull the pain of the lash-wounds on his back, the pain of his cracked ribs, of his many bruises, had apparently forgotten to go to his head. His body was quite blissfully asleep, laying on the gently rocking cot, but his mind just would not stop working.
I hate these kind of moments, yet oddly enjoy them as well; they are just so wierd, and yes, unsettling. IIRC, I had a bad bout of sleep-paralysis the night before.
It kept turning over and over a million different questions: How had the bastards known where he was? Where were the rest of his crew? Were they alright? How the bloody hell did Sparrow know? Was he in on the plan from the beginning? For that matter, why was Jose Gaspar, known to be one of the more ruthless members of an already highly ruthless group of lowlifes, helping Sparrow instead of cheering on the continued torture of a much hated pirate-hunter? What was between them?
Ooooh, background. I find it impossible to write anything without it having a fully formed backstory; even my drabbles do, no matter how much of a PWP or slice o’ life I want them to be. Also, I have a sense that James’s brain never shuts up at the best of times.
“El Pardal y mi?”
And watch Monkey pretend she speaks Spanish. ;-) I didn’t want to have too much Spanish in Jose’s speech, but this felt right. When I looked up “Sparrow” in my handy-dandy Eng-to-Sp dictionary, I discovered that in common speech it is also used to denote a “sly fellow”. Perfection! Especially seeing as this story was going to contain a stab a Jack’s origin. After I posted this,
doolabug mentioned, er somewhere, that there was actual a pirate with the last name of
Pardal in the early 18th cen. Groovy.
The sudden voice, soft though it was, jolted James fully awake. He opened his eyes, then shut them quickly. Even though the daylight was muted in this cabin, it was still far more than his eyes could deal with. They had grown far too accustomed to the pitch-blackness of his cell. He pulled the light blanket up, trying, with feeble strength, to cover his head. The soft cotton rasped along his back , then his shoulders, and he found he could move it no higher than his neck.
I’ve noticed that I put a lot of light cues in my writing, usually dealing with the quality of the sunlight as most of my fics take place during the day. Maybe it’s from growing up in Florida where you just can’t get away from it. I don’t know, but they always seem to show up.
The pain came creeping up then - sliding, pushing from were the medicine had buried it. He curled in on himself, wanting nothing more than to escape back into that weird, unsetteling sleep he had known moments before. He might have been slowly going mad, but there had been, at least, a decided lack of pain. And nausea. He felt it roll up from the center of his being, roll up and demand escape. The dry retching shook every bone and every fiber, and gave strength to the pain.
I also use a good bit of kinetic cues, whether they have to do with the sense of touch or with motion. I’m a kinetic learner and it is the prime way I understand the world around me. I’ll get lost when I’m reading sometimes when not enough cues (for me) are given.
Still, through all that, his warriors senses were aware of the pirate's movements. Aware of the soft sound of his bare feet on the wood as he moved through the cabin.
Then there are the sound cues. Once more, these always show up, although they are like the light cues in that there are a few important one, but they don’t pepper my entire story the way the kinetic cues do.
I must say I’m still not happy with the phrase “his warrior’s senses”. It just doesn’t feel right. And OMG all the little typos! I really do need to get a beta reader. At the time, however, I was just so happy I could write anything that I just wanted to get it up. Also, from all my years of writing papers at the last minute, I just never really thought of it. Stupid Monkey. *g*
Aware of the slight creak as he settled himself on the cannon overwhich James's cot hung.
Please kindly note the hanging cot. Now, I’m no great hand at nautical stuff; I’m still quite firmly in the neophyte range; and most times any errors I DO notice just roll of my back. I understand very well how difficult it all is, and how just when you think you are getting it your realise that nope, sorry, wrong. I swear the sailors did it just to be bastards. However, for some reason, beds on sailing ships drive me absolutely batty, no matter how much fun they are to tie people to. I don’t really know when hammocks and hanging cots came into use, but holy shit to bed drive me up the wall. I do realise that this is a completely personal issue, and refuse to let it ruin a story for me, but... Maybe it’s a hold over from trying to take a nap on the family sailboat when I was a child, and getting repeatedly bashed against the side from the chop. Or perhaps I am just a great big dorque tm insidian.
Aware, even, of the heat of his body as he reached over James to place a gentle hand around a surprisingly unmauled wrist. James was taken by surprise, though, when one of Gaspar's calloused fingers began to trace a small, slow circle on the inside of said wrist. Surprised by the feather light hand that ghosted through his hair.
Jose is such an evil flirt with power issues. You know he’s getting turned on.
“Pobrecito, what they did to you.”, the pirate's voice was still quiet and, unbelievably, compassionate.
Pobrecito is one of the few words that I consistently remember and use from all the my years of Spanish. It means literally “poor little boy”, but in speech it is, hmm, I guess slightly condescending though that’s not quite right. It’s like when a little kid skins their knee and are crying like they just lost their entire leg. People often say “Oh you poor thing” with compassion, but one part of their brain is going “Jesus fuck kid, it’s just a scrape.” Yeah like that. Jose is feeling compassion, and he knows what a bad flogging feels like, but he still feels superior in away. Of course, he always feels superior, the asshole. *g*
“Had it been I? I would have made it quick. A pistol shot here,” James felt a thumb reach out and caresses the side of his temple, “and it would have all been over. I wanted to, when I saw you in that pit. When I saw what they had done. You deserve no less. But I had made a promise.”
This here is very much my Jose. He’s as ruthless as Barbossa, but he still has this sense of honour. He’d have no problem with killing Norrington, but as he sees the man as a worthy adversary, he has a great respect for him, and would only kill him in what could be seen as a proper manner. He also DOES have compassion, and what he saw DID shock him. No man should be treated like that. Well, no gentleman at any rate. Here, also, I wanted to show that while he may just be out for himself, Jose means his word when he gives it. It is not something he does lightly. Oh, he’ll back stab people, remember ruthless bastard, but if he gives his word he will keep to it. He rarely gives his word. This would have been more apparent had I followed the story through.
James felt himself calming under the gentle caresses. He felt the nausea easing back till it was almost nothing. But his mind still burned. He wanted to ask Why? Why are you doing this? However, he found he was unable to make a sound.
“Sssh, you are curious, si? I know I would be, if our places were reversed. So I will tell you a story, so that maybe you will be able to rest a bit.”
I was actually very proud of Jose’s voice through this. It felt not only very him, but also there was something about the rhythm that felt very right for some whose native language is Spanish. This is a big element for me. I hate when people try to write dialectically, unless there is a very good reason for it. The same effect can be given by sentence flow and word choice. This is why I am so proud of Captain Jack and the Pearl. While I know it may not be completely true to the Pan-Caribbean dialect, it seems to give the feel of it. There are some odd word constructions, but those are indigenous to the speech. It’s when I start reading “dem”s and “dere”s that I get turned off. Anyways...
/mini-rant. And awww, Joses is being sweet. *snort* He’s actually a big old gossip. No, I believe he does feel a certain kindness for James, and is impressed by what the man had survived, so that here he really is trying to ease the pain. He’s still a big old gossip though.
James heard Gaspar shift a bit, to make himself more comfortable. He left his hands were they were, however, and for that James was embaressingly greatful. They were the first kind touches he had known in far too long.
This last line is another one of those that creeps up on me all the time, and I have to beat it back with a stick. In this case, it was meant to hint that James had been in captivity for a good deal of time.
Now here is the truth behind this story. At the time I wrote it there was a discussion going on regarding circumcision, and whether Jack was cut or not. Someone mentioned how if he was, they would love to read a story about how it happened, seeing as it was not a common European practice at the time. I said I’d give it a go, and this was born.
This is why I’m not really all that good with challenges: my brain goes to odd places and I can never stick to the actual request. Notice Captain Jack and the Pearl again; enigel asked for a satire poking fun at all of the fanon conventions, and I gave her a folktale. *g* Sure, there would be mention of how Jack lost his fore-skin, but it was never going to be the centre piece of the story, despite being it’s genesis. It was a background story involving Barbary pirates and mutiny and Jack as a youngster.
Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed and found this at all interesting. As this was actually quite fun... Anymore requests?