Author's Note: Okay, this is basically a small idea that came to me after
seeing and reading one too many Mary-Sue stories. And yes, I know parodies
of them aren't all that original either, but meh, I had to write it down.
So yeah, read if you want, and reviews are more than welcome. Flames are
welcome as well, but only if they are entertaining and spelled correctly.
I don't want any 'u suk', come on people, let's get creative here!
Chapter 1
"Savvy," Captain Jack Sparrow's sultry voice echoed along the decks of the Black Pearl, which was slightly odd because he was not in an enclosed area that would normally produce such an echo.
Will Turner glanced around uneasily, also disturbed by the fact of the echo. However that was wiped away by his next thought as to why he was on the Black Pearl to begin with when he should have been back in England with Elizabeth. It had been a few months after Captain Jack Sparrow's escape from the hangman's noose with help from his young blacksmith friend, so the ship should have been well off into the depths of the ocean and far away from the two lovebirds, but no, instead Will was back on the Black Pearl with Jack.
"Man overboard!" one of the men from the crew shouted. He was a nameless man of the crew, as his appearance did not merit a name worth remembering from the hormone driven minds of those who had seen the movie.
Will turned and went to the side of the Black Pearl, gazing down into the tossing waters, a place that was hardly hospitable for any living person. Suddenly, all concern he had had before over the misplaced echo and reasons behind his current location was wiped away as his dark eyes took in what was exactly in the water. Despite the generic usage of the ever-popular phrase that applied to anybody being seen in the water, the person in need of rescuing was in fact a young woman.
"It's a young woman," the young blacksmith called out needlessly. There was an immediate uproar and much hustle and bustle on deck as every available hand raced to haul up the prone form in the water. For it was clear to any male on ship, of which all of them were except for Anamaria who was conspicuously absent from the story anyway, that the woman in the water was clearly beautiful even when unconscious and soaking.
"Savvy?" Captain Jack Sparrow questioned as he leaned over the large wheel he was positioned at. He wanted to know what was going on and who exactly all the men were working to pull onto deck, yet was reluctant to leave his ever-powerful position. He was the captain, and the captain must always remain at the helm and ready to bark out orders to the crew.
Will pushed forward so that he was at the forefront of the group of men working over the side. He grabbed onto an arm of the woman and pulled, immediately receiving help from the other crew-men who were grabbing onto any available portion of the woman. With their combined efforts, the woman was out of the water and onto the deck of the ship quickly, at which she conveniently gained consciousness the moment her pretty little head came to rest on the rocking wood of the ship.
All of the men stood back and gasped in shock as she opened her eyes, eyes that shone forth with a brilliant gleam of cerulean blue that also could be described as Lapis Lazuli. All of the men except, of course, for the young Will Turner who remained bent down on one knee at the side of the nearly drowned maiden. He too was immediately caught up in the power of the superfluously described blue eyes.
"Are you alright?" he asked as soon as he could find his tongue again and regain his wits from being momentarily dumbstruck by the ridiculously beautiful girl.
A look of subtle pain and confusion marred the perfect features of the girl. "I know not," she breathed out.
The men on board exchanged a brief look with each other at her odd form of speech. It was almost as if somebody was attempting to recreate archaic English but was instead either trying too hard or still caught up in the wrong era.
"Savvy!" came the shout from the helm. Apparently super cool pirate slang was not forgotten in the attempt to write in the correct style of dialogue.
Will managed to pry his eyes off from the woman before him long enough to turn and answer to the captain's inquiry. "It is a young woman, but I believe she will be alright. All she needs is some rest and devoted attention and she will be back to her normally sassy self." The blacksmith was not entirely sure how he knew all of this information, but the thought did not occur to him to be worried over the aspect as subtle signs of important aspects of character development was also conspicuously absent in the attempt of fan fiction.
By the time Will turned back to the young woman, she had once again sunk back into the realms of unconsciousness. "We must get her below deck and into one of the rooms," Will supplied. Without waiting for an answer, he scooped the prone form off of the deck and started towards the opening that would bring him below. None of the other men moved to help, in fact, it was almost as if they were frozen to the spot. For they knew that they would only show up in key moments in the story when the anchor had to be 'weighed' or the sails 'set' or any other form of ship maintenance, depending on how well-versed the subsequent author was on ship procedures.
Yet despite the impending doom of the crewmen to be reduced to glorified extras rather than actual characters, the story pushed forward with Will scrambling to get the young woman to a place of relative safety and comfort. Oddly enough, the only place he could think of to put her was in fact his own room, but that seemed good enough because then he could be by her side day and night and carefully monitor her recovery.
Will reached his small chambers, which was odd because rooms on a ship were normally placed above deck alongside the captain's quarters, but that was another fact that did not seem to matter much to the story. With the utmost care, the young blacksmith laid the woman out on the bed and then stood back, wondering what else there was to do.
Just as Will was contemplating thoughts of performing CPR, the woman stirred. His knee automatically dropped and the blacksmith found himself at the side of the bed, his hand clutching onto the hand of the mysterious woman.
She coughed daintily, which was hardly enough to bring someone back from near drowning as they normally would have to hack up large amounts of water from their lungs, but as it was becoming increasingly apparent that no sort of logic could be applied to the story, this once again did not matter. Opening her marvelously indigo eyes once again, a small smile pulled at her gargantuanly full and blood-red lips. The poor blacksmith could not help himself and found his heart brimming with love for this spectacular creature.
"Wherefore do I be?" the young maiden asked.
Something inside of the blacksmith broke and for a small instant he found his overwhelming love halted immediately by the oddity of her speech. Instinct took over and Will blinked, looking around the room. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, and he should not be here.
A slight pull on his hand distracted his thoughts and Will looked back at the bed where the young woman had sat up, her turquoise eyes shining forth at him even in the relative gloom of the setting. Instinct and dread was shoved down once again and the blacksmith found himself being pacified into the role of a romantic hero once again. The woman smiled again.
"What is your name?" Will breathed, his other hand coming up to join his other hand so that he was effectively covering her dainty digits.
"I am called Maxamilliana," the woman replied, her voice like silvery bells as opposed to gold ones. "Yet my friends may refer to me as simply Max."
Will blinked at the revelation of the name that seemed strange to him but secretly denoted the inner feistiness of the totally original female character and found himself smiling his boyish grin instead of questioning the origins of such a name.
"My name is Will," Will said in reply.
"I know," Max said softly.
Immediate intrigue and concern overcame the emotionally subjective blacksmith. "How do you know that?"
"I know many things," Max replied with the slightest twinge of dramatic sadness.
Before Will could press the matter any further and question her on her mysterious and tragic past, footsteps sounded on the wooden planks of the hall outside the room. Will whirled around and saw that Captain Jack Sparrow stood in the doorway.
"Jack," Will exclaimed with more surprise than should have been necessary. "Who is at the helm?"
"Savvy," Jack muttered in a way that meant that it did not matter. There were more important things to see to than the well-fare and course of the ship.
Jack took a step into the room and drew his sword.
Will stood slowly, his hand going for his own sword at his hip. "Jack," he said slowly, "there is no need for this."
There was a small cry from behind him. Both men turned to see the young Max clutching the sheets to herself in a protective and heart-rending manner. "Please," she insisted through tear-filled eyes, "you need not fight over me."
"Savvy!" Jack shouted in a way that suggested that yes, he did need to fight over her,. But before he could advance and fight the younger man to the death for the strange woman they had just met, his form wavered and the sword he held in his hand lowered slightly. The repetition of the word savvy was finally getting to him, something was wrong. This whole scenario was wrong.
Will saw the momentary confusion overcome Jack, but he assumed it was for other reasons. "We do not need to fight," he declared, "at least not now. Miss Max cannot handle such a trauma now."
Unwillingly, Jack was sucked back into the awful characterization of the story. He nodded and resheathed his sword. With a promised, "Savvy," the captain turned and exited the room.
Chapter 1
"Savvy," Captain Jack Sparrow's sultry voice echoed along the decks of the Black Pearl, which was slightly odd because he was not in an enclosed area that would normally produce such an echo.
Will Turner glanced around uneasily, also disturbed by the fact of the echo. However that was wiped away by his next thought as to why he was on the Black Pearl to begin with when he should have been back in England with Elizabeth. It had been a few months after Captain Jack Sparrow's escape from the hangman's noose with help from his young blacksmith friend, so the ship should have been well off into the depths of the ocean and far away from the two lovebirds, but no, instead Will was back on the Black Pearl with Jack.
"Man overboard!" one of the men from the crew shouted. He was a nameless man of the crew, as his appearance did not merit a name worth remembering from the hormone driven minds of those who had seen the movie.
Will turned and went to the side of the Black Pearl, gazing down into the tossing waters, a place that was hardly hospitable for any living person. Suddenly, all concern he had had before over the misplaced echo and reasons behind his current location was wiped away as his dark eyes took in what was exactly in the water. Despite the generic usage of the ever-popular phrase that applied to anybody being seen in the water, the person in need of rescuing was in fact a young woman.
"It's a young woman," the young blacksmith called out needlessly. There was an immediate uproar and much hustle and bustle on deck as every available hand raced to haul up the prone form in the water. For it was clear to any male on ship, of which all of them were except for Anamaria who was conspicuously absent from the story anyway, that the woman in the water was clearly beautiful even when unconscious and soaking.
"Savvy?" Captain Jack Sparrow questioned as he leaned over the large wheel he was positioned at. He wanted to know what was going on and who exactly all the men were working to pull onto deck, yet was reluctant to leave his ever-powerful position. He was the captain, and the captain must always remain at the helm and ready to bark out orders to the crew.
Will pushed forward so that he was at the forefront of the group of men working over the side. He grabbed onto an arm of the woman and pulled, immediately receiving help from the other crew-men who were grabbing onto any available portion of the woman. With their combined efforts, the woman was out of the water and onto the deck of the ship quickly, at which she conveniently gained consciousness the moment her pretty little head came to rest on the rocking wood of the ship.
All of the men stood back and gasped in shock as she opened her eyes, eyes that shone forth with a brilliant gleam of cerulean blue that also could be described as Lapis Lazuli. All of the men except, of course, for the young Will Turner who remained bent down on one knee at the side of the nearly drowned maiden. He too was immediately caught up in the power of the superfluously described blue eyes.
"Are you alright?" he asked as soon as he could find his tongue again and regain his wits from being momentarily dumbstruck by the ridiculously beautiful girl.
A look of subtle pain and confusion marred the perfect features of the girl. "I know not," she breathed out.
The men on board exchanged a brief look with each other at her odd form of speech. It was almost as if somebody was attempting to recreate archaic English but was instead either trying too hard or still caught up in the wrong era.
"Savvy!" came the shout from the helm. Apparently super cool pirate slang was not forgotten in the attempt to write in the correct style of dialogue.
Will managed to pry his eyes off from the woman before him long enough to turn and answer to the captain's inquiry. "It is a young woman, but I believe she will be alright. All she needs is some rest and devoted attention and she will be back to her normally sassy self." The blacksmith was not entirely sure how he knew all of this information, but the thought did not occur to him to be worried over the aspect as subtle signs of important aspects of character development was also conspicuously absent in the attempt of fan fiction.
By the time Will turned back to the young woman, she had once again sunk back into the realms of unconsciousness. "We must get her below deck and into one of the rooms," Will supplied. Without waiting for an answer, he scooped the prone form off of the deck and started towards the opening that would bring him below. None of the other men moved to help, in fact, it was almost as if they were frozen to the spot. For they knew that they would only show up in key moments in the story when the anchor had to be 'weighed' or the sails 'set' or any other form of ship maintenance, depending on how well-versed the subsequent author was on ship procedures.
Yet despite the impending doom of the crewmen to be reduced to glorified extras rather than actual characters, the story pushed forward with Will scrambling to get the young woman to a place of relative safety and comfort. Oddly enough, the only place he could think of to put her was in fact his own room, but that seemed good enough because then he could be by her side day and night and carefully monitor her recovery.
Will reached his small chambers, which was odd because rooms on a ship were normally placed above deck alongside the captain's quarters, but that was another fact that did not seem to matter much to the story. With the utmost care, the young blacksmith laid the woman out on the bed and then stood back, wondering what else there was to do.
Just as Will was contemplating thoughts of performing CPR, the woman stirred. His knee automatically dropped and the blacksmith found himself at the side of the bed, his hand clutching onto the hand of the mysterious woman.
She coughed daintily, which was hardly enough to bring someone back from near drowning as they normally would have to hack up large amounts of water from their lungs, but as it was becoming increasingly apparent that no sort of logic could be applied to the story, this once again did not matter. Opening her marvelously indigo eyes once again, a small smile pulled at her gargantuanly full and blood-red lips. The poor blacksmith could not help himself and found his heart brimming with love for this spectacular creature.
"Wherefore do I be?" the young maiden asked.
Something inside of the blacksmith broke and for a small instant he found his overwhelming love halted immediately by the oddity of her speech. Instinct took over and Will blinked, looking around the room. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, and he should not be here.
A slight pull on his hand distracted his thoughts and Will looked back at the bed where the young woman had sat up, her turquoise eyes shining forth at him even in the relative gloom of the setting. Instinct and dread was shoved down once again and the blacksmith found himself being pacified into the role of a romantic hero once again. The woman smiled again.
"What is your name?" Will breathed, his other hand coming up to join his other hand so that he was effectively covering her dainty digits.
"I am called Maxamilliana," the woman replied, her voice like silvery bells as opposed to gold ones. "Yet my friends may refer to me as simply Max."
Will blinked at the revelation of the name that seemed strange to him but secretly denoted the inner feistiness of the totally original female character and found himself smiling his boyish grin instead of questioning the origins of such a name.
"My name is Will," Will said in reply.
"I know," Max said softly.
Immediate intrigue and concern overcame the emotionally subjective blacksmith. "How do you know that?"
"I know many things," Max replied with the slightest twinge of dramatic sadness.
Before Will could press the matter any further and question her on her mysterious and tragic past, footsteps sounded on the wooden planks of the hall outside the room. Will whirled around and saw that Captain Jack Sparrow stood in the doorway.
"Jack," Will exclaimed with more surprise than should have been necessary. "Who is at the helm?"
"Savvy," Jack muttered in a way that meant that it did not matter. There were more important things to see to than the well-fare and course of the ship.
Jack took a step into the room and drew his sword.
Will stood slowly, his hand going for his own sword at his hip. "Jack," he said slowly, "there is no need for this."
There was a small cry from behind him. Both men turned to see the young Max clutching the sheets to herself in a protective and heart-rending manner. "Please," she insisted through tear-filled eyes, "you need not fight over me."
"Savvy!" Jack shouted in a way that suggested that yes, he did need to fight over her,. But before he could advance and fight the younger man to the death for the strange woman they had just met, his form wavered and the sword he held in his hand lowered slightly. The repetition of the word savvy was finally getting to him, something was wrong. This whole scenario was wrong.
Will saw the momentary confusion overcome Jack, but he assumed it was for other reasons. "We do not need to fight," he declared, "at least not now. Miss Max cannot handle such a trauma now."
Unwillingly, Jack was sucked back into the awful characterization of the story. He nodded and resheathed his sword. With a promised, "Savvy," the captain turned and exited the room.