𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐃, 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

《 •·✧ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐃 ✧·• 》
ACT II     CHAPTER VIII
( home )

HOME CAN BE MANY THINGS. It can be a place, a house with sentimental value and memories no one can ever replace. Or a person, maybe the one teenagers lay awake thinking about, while kicking their legs subconsciously. It could be a group of people, a big family, by blood, and if not, by bond.

Angelica for example, was a firm believer that what makes a home is the people in it. Her home was many things. It wasn't who, or where, it just was. It was the then, and the now. It was Jack Sparrow, and Joseph Rider. Her crew, and her ship. Home was never, and will never be just one thing to Angelica.

The familiar scent of rancid fishing docks, screaming seagulls and shouting pirates violating nearby strangers, was all the girl needed to know that she was home. Dressed in her old getup, pirate hat perched on top of her head, and far too many necklace clasped tight around her neck it began to hurt. She was ready to face anything.

Angel was long gone, Angelica replacing her the moment she stepped foot out of Auradon. Already, a sadistic energy washed over her. She was back baby.

Angelicas boot thudded against the chipping wood, her sharp daggers clasped inside multiple holsters clashing together, her jewellery created an annoying cling, making her nothing more than a walking chime.

She glanced around, taking peaks at the small ships laid untended with nothing but rope holding it up. A few blokes were fishing down by the docks, buckets of unknown substances sat next to them, smelling rather sour, though it didn't bother the men.

A large ship, one very familiar to Angelica conjured a level of noice only pirates could achieve. She could hear the scraping of metal against another, a sign of two agitated crew mates fighting for dominance. It was a usual thing really, there were always two pricks who thought the world of themselves, and battled because of it.

Continuing her journey towards the black ship, she thought of dramatic flares ready to announce her presence. Angel was screaming at the idea, however, Angelica was rather enjoying the shout of fright coming from her alternate persona.

As she got closer, her sword dropped from its place, creating a sound of discomfort. The metal blade scraped against the wooden stairs she was ascending, lurching and groaning as if it were alive.

The actions seemed to quiet Jacks noisy bunch. Questions regarding it were whispered amongst the group, though were otherwise ignored as a heavy boot shook the surface. A girl aged seventeen, tilted her pirate hat upwards, peering into the eyes of her farther crew, her home.