The Curse of the Black Pearl

Rapscallion

Oh the sea. The beautiful, mysterious sea. So vast. So secretive.

Sailors often tell stories of her. They spin tales of grace, of mischief, of paradox. From their lips fall myths and legends, some true, some false, others plain ridiculous. Next to the warmth of the fire, the salty old seadogs carry with them recollections of perilous adventures, long voyages, and unparalleled discoveries.

I want to be one of them.

I want to be next to that fire when I'm spent. To know I've seen the corners of the world. I want to fondly reminisce the sensation of scratchy rope between my fingers, of wind blowing through my tresses, of the world at my feet.

When I enter my mind, I'm the captain of a magnificent ship. The fastest of all known ships; swifter than swallows, black as night. Deadly fangs hidden, ready to strike. As I stand- proud and tall- behind the wheel, the fiercest, wittiest of all captains to sail the seven seas.

In reality, I'm just another homeless street rat. Yep, a street rat.

Let's get this compass pointing North, shall we? Right, my name is (Y/N) and I am your everyday pickpocket scouring the streets of Port Royal. I only bothered to learn the name of this stupid place when I came across it on the map. All I know is that it houses the Swanns; a bunch of rich people I don't care about. Well, maybe Elizabeth as she did help me once... Twice. Just twice. Anyway.

I was sitting on the dock as I usually loved to do, swinging my bare feet and pondering how I was to get myself out on those waters without being caught. Seeing as I was a girl, many people turned up their noses at the thought of me sailing. I've tried every trick in the book. Nothing worked, the gravel of earth still caressed my feet while I longed for the vacant touch of wood. I gave a frustrated sigh and tangled my hand in my hair, why did I have to fall in love with the most unpredictable being on earth?

I was so busy wallowing in my dilemma that, when I looked up, my mouth dropped in astonishment.

That had to be the queerest sight I'd ever seen.

A man stood on what seemed to be the mast of a rapidly sinking boat, making his way to the pier. Despite its bedraggled appearance, its flag swaying limply from its post, he stood prouder than a jury. I could feel my brow quirk higher and higher up as he went by. Sticking his foot out, he stepped off onto the dock. I observed as the harbormaster pranced after him. The harbormaster balanced his fragile glasses on his blob of a snout as he spoke with the charming individual. Knowing Mr. Blobnose, it was probably for a name and... 'docking' his boat. I was too far away to hear what said individual replied with, but he got along well enough that the harbormaster let him go without much trouble. On the other hand, I did notice that- once Mr. Blobnose's back was turned- the man stole his money. The money I had my eye on, darn it.

Oh well, tit for tat I suppose.

He had peculiar clothing on too, it seemed to suit his quirky personality.

Hold on a second! I have to meet Elizabeth today!

I tore myself away from the interesting man and stood up. Dusting off my ragged clothes, I turned my gaze to the governor's elaborate house. Spying the black gates opening to allow a carriage departure, I realized that they had to be heading to the battlement, what with all the cleaning they had been doing there (you know, 1700s style cleaning). My lips stretched into a broad smile, my job was just made easier. With a scuff of bare feet on stones, I sprinted through the narrow, crowded streets.

Bells clanged, goats bleated, seagulls called and people bustled on the grimy pebbles. With the sound of my feet slapping the muck, I ducked and weaved through an ever-changing pathway mapped out in my mind. I could turn on a pinpoint, my pads brushing lighter than a feather and never stopping for a moment. The salty wind mingled with the dust, smoke, and fishy aroma of the town as it tugged at my ponytail in playful jest. I laughed as I brushed far too close to a constable for his liking, only to dart out of reach from his prying hand. Leaping through windows, dodging past officials, feeling my muscles stretch and contract made me feel alive; as if my life were a dance. With several shortcuts and detours, I arrived at the square just as Elizabeth exited the carriage. Her father was immediately pulled aside, leaving her to make her way to her place.