Untitled- POTC

[Brokenhearts]

The wind whistled past his ears, pushing his hair away from his unusual face. His dark eyes watered slight- protecting them from becoming dry. On his face was a large smirk. In his eyes were defiance as his hands held on tightly to the spokes of the enormous wheel.
He serveyed his ship from that height, watching his loyal crew work hard below him. Many were scared from the many battles they had fought and won.Each and everyman who served him was willing to die for him. Their own captain. Captain Ja-
"JOHN SMITH!" yelled a stern voice, "come down from that tree at once! Stop it with your tom-foolery and day-dreams. There's work to be done."
"I am not," said the ten year old boy indignantly, "I'm Jack Sparrow." He paused for a moment and grinned impishly. "Captain Jack Sparrow." He jumped from the branches with the agility of a cat. "The most Famous pirate captain in the carrabean- NO!" he corrected himself, "in all the seven seas."
His aunt rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, watching him closely.
"The most feared. The most Natorious. My crew will be the most loyal. I'll be strong! I'll be fierce! I'll be-" He tripped over a stone in his path to his aunt and fell flat on his face.
"Lucky to reach fifteen," his aunt finished for him, chuckling. She walked over to help the poor boy up.
"The name's Jack," insisted the young Jack Sparrow, shaking his aunt off him, "And you'll see. Soon everyone will know of Captain Jack Sparrow."

[Donald Duck]

update soon please!

[Brokenhearts]

ill try 2 now… mayb… i think i have an idea…

[Donald Duck]

yay!

[Brokenhearts]

Thirteen year old Jack hauled himself onto the roof tops. From there- he could see the port clearly. He could see the taverns, the docking, the people and the carts. He could see everything- but he was looking for one induvidual. A little girl, about three years younger than him, but with more guts than anyone else he knew. Even Billy Turner. Cara Lightstone was not an easy one to pick out. She could blend in where she willed, and stand out at the same time. It depended on how she was feeling.

"Cara!" he called across the roof tops, hoping she had gotten his message, "CARA!"

"Down here- moron," came her happy little voice from the other side of the house he was climbing.

He frowned as he looked down her. "What are yooooo-" the word was cut off as his foot slipped on a tile and he came slipping to earth. His fingers scrabbled for a hold- of anything. His dreadlocks were all over the place. Just before he shot over the edge of the house- he managed to grab hold of the piping. His body was wrenched forwards by the momentem of his fall, but he held on securely. "humm… how to get down…" he mumbled to himself.

Benneth him Cara was laughing hystarically. "Oh Jack," she said through her giggles, "how do you always manage to do that?!"

(to b continued )

[Donald Duck]

Wonderful! Just Wonderful!!!!!!!

[Brokenhearts]

u like it?!?!?! seriously?! i jst rote it as it came 2 mi head… so it needs LOADS of work

[Donald Duck]

It's awsome!

[Brokenhearts]

*pokes freedom the muse…* stop payin with tht… and give me idea 4 THIS!!!

*freedom gives dirty look and poke out tongue- goes bak 2 playing with… the thing…* (wat is it?!?!?!)

[Donald Duck]

update soon please!

[Brokenhearts]

“With skill!” he called down to Cara, then muttered to himself, “and lots of luck… the kind I don’t need.”
Cara shook her head. She may have been three years younger. But she was the wiser more mature one of their group of five. Though she was not the only girl.
As his fingers clung on to the gutter for dear life, there was a sort of crunching, dragging sound to be heard. Jack’s eyes snapped towards the right side of the house. His black pupils dilated till all of his deep brown eyes were covered! The gutter was breaking away from the house.
Below him Cara was swollowing hard, backing away slightly so he wouldnt land on her. She still muttered curses on her friends behalf as Jack repeated, “bugger,” over and over again.
His eyes searched all over for something else to grab onto to. When an idea struck him- swing himself back onto the roof! It was so simple, and for a lad who basically grew up on a ship- should be relatively easy.
He started swinging his agile body back and forth to gain momentum. He was concentarting so much he didnt hear the second crunch. Nor felt the further dragging of the piping.
“Not going to work, Smith!” called up Cara, eyeing the slowly colpasing gutter.
“It’s Sparrow!” snapped Jack hotly, thinking furiously what a little girl would know or even understand.
“Smith or Sparra’, you’re the same idiot,” she replied, just as heatedly, “it’s not gonna work.”
“Yes it-” the gutter gave way. It fell towards Earth with a jolt, sending Jack sliding to the other end, giving him friction burns on his fingers. He hit his hands with such a force at the other end that his body swung and he let go for the pain in his hands. He crashed to the floor and landed in a heap.
Groaning he disentangled himself, and just lay on the floor, moaning.
Cara rushed over, and dropped to her knees beside him. “You ok, Jack!?” she asked.
“Never better…” he said sarcastically.
“He’s fine,” said a familliar, nasal, whining voice. That they all knew a loathed.

[Donald Duck]

Just as good as ever! I love it!

[Brokenhearts]

u mite need 2 have seen the second film 2 truely appriciate the nxt charrie introduced… bt yeah

[Brokenhearts]

“Go away Beckett,” snapped Cara, standing up. She was the same height as the sandy haired, just turned teenager. But she looked bigger.
Didn’t mean he was any less the bully he was. Though he sucked up to the teahcers in school.
He pushed Cara distastefully out of his way with a gloved hand, wringing the hand as though it was dirty.
Cara stumbled a bit as Jack jumped to hit feet, looking throughly hurt on Cara’s behalf. He pushed his class mate’s shoulder crossly.
“Watch your self, lordling,” he said coldly.
Beckett brushed his shoulders distastefully, his eyes were cold as he watched Jack’s face. “Why should I watch myself, Smith,” he asked, his voice squeeking slightly, “what would i have to fear from a…” he looked Jack up and down, his face was of utter disgust, “commen whore’s son.”
Cara pushed herself forewards- angry that the snivling little wrench had insulted Jack so. Though she had never met Ms Smith- she knew from Jack’s uncle that she was by no means a bad woman.
Jack put out his arm and pulled her aside.
“What would you have to fear from a commen whore’s son?” he asked, stalking towards Beckett, his words weighed, his steps calculated, his glare and smirk were of perfect evil.
Beckett back away. Beads of sweat dripped down his fat face. He tried to push them away with his richly emboided sleeve. Only for them to be replaced.
John Smith was an intimadating thirteen year old. Surprsingly tall for his age. Muscular, strong, agile, a punch to be reconed with and a mouth full of curses and insults that would make a sailor blush.
Beckett was right to be worried about him.
“Well now… let’s weigh up this accusation…” in a flash Jack had a dagger pressed against Beckett’s throat, and his back against the wall.
The fat boy’s breathing became more and more rapid and uneven. His sweating increased, and his pupils dilated.
Cara watched on with interest. She knew of Jack’s limits and what he was willing to do. But Beckett didn’t. Which made it all the more interesting.
“Let’s see how you should fear the son of a whore,” he whispered, almost seductively into his enemies ear.
He pressed the warmed steel against the fat of the other boys neck.
“Please…” whimpered Beckett, “spare my life! I’ll give you anything!”
Jack raised an eye brow. “Who says you have anything I want.”
Cara wanted to double over in stitches.

[Donald Duck]

Real good Broky!!!!!!!