green-eyed-reptile

    The Cosmos is alit with innumerable Worlds. All are different; all are beautiful. But it is within the branches of Yggdrasill, the great World Tree, that this story is situated. Hark now!     “Why must you go again to Jotunhiem?” asked Frigg, the Almother of the gods. Tall, buxom and muscular, the young queen was the leader of the Valkaries and could beat the toughest warriors in Asgard one on one and hold her own against ten of them. But right now, her tear-streaked cheeks and the pleading expression in her normally warm sky-blue eyes made her look like a young girl, not a century over 16,000.     Odin grunted dismissively

 “Who,” growled Wolverstone, determined that someone was going to pay for this mess, “is responsible for this outrage?” Everyone in the room turned to look at Jack. Jack pointed to Barbossa. Barbossa pointed to Jack. Arabella held the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and tried not to laugh. Wolverstone’s eye began to twitch. “Bassa! Teach!” he barked. The big negro-doctor stepped forward, followed by a heavyset young man in his mid twenties with shaggy coal-black hair. “take these two pathetic examples of men to the brig.” Well, there was an uproar, the likes of which h

 “Oi!” Jack called up, “Hector! Or is it Barbossa? Whoever you are that’s my hammock you’re resting your unworthy self in.” Barbossa leaned over the edge once again. He was about a dozen years older than Jack and exactly a foot taller than him. He calmly and with just a hint of sarcasm looked Jack up and down from head to toe. His long, slanted eyes were pale blue and did not blink. It gave Jack the creeps.   After what seemed lifetimes Barbossa asked, “This?” “Aye, mate,” Jack said nodding and speaking very slowly, fearing the other man was a bit mentally challenged. “That.

 The pair went below decks. Although it was almost midnight the crew was still awake with candles and lamps lit to make light because no one wanted to be in the dark with old Turncoat Tom’s ghost about. They made a pandemonium with their shouting, cursing, and breakings of empty rum bottles on each other’s heads (or other places). It hadn’t taken long to mess up the sleeping quarters. The whole room looked like a hurricane had hit it. “Haven’t any of these blokes heard of hammocks?” Jack demanded irritably as he stubbed his foot on a sailor who was sprawled out, dead drunk. Arabella grabbed Jack’s a

 Jack had a hard time convincing Arabella that Mei Li’s story about the stone and the Necklace of Power was authentic. Arabella grilled him with questions about just who this Mei Li was, how they could trust her, and just how did you two meet. Jack did not tell her of Mei Li’s part in getting them kidnapped he simply told Arabella that he had met her in the bilges.   “Oh, and Little Miss Chatterbox just tells ye all this out of the goodness of her heart? Oh, that’s just fine! An’ why would she do that if she could just swipe the stone and have all the power to herself? Or unless she was lying and tryin‘ to

“All creatures deserve the freedom of life.” Jack recognized the voice but not the speaker. It was the amiable Chinese person who had so graciously knocked him out and shanghaied him. Only she was not a man as Jack had originally thought.   “Delightful.” Jack said dryly. “I’m sure he just loves it down here.”   “Taking your anger out on another is cowardly and futile.” said the girl, looking grave. “Even if that one is a rat.”   “Right. The rat didn’t press gang me into this aptly named ship.” “The rat also didn’t steal the Captain’s pre

 “I say!” Jack turned to give the Captain a furious look, but it was wasted on the wooden door which slammed. “Batty old bugger…” he growled.   “Keep it stowed, will yer?” a gravely voice said from high up. “Some of us’re tryin’ t’sleep!” It was very old man in a hammock quite near the ceiling. Apparently he and a few of the fatter hammocks below him had worked the night shift and were catching their beauty sleep during the day. “Alright, keep your pants on, mate.” Jack said. “To late,” said the old man with a loud cackle, much to the annoya

 Sometimes there is nothing to do but just run. Jack and Arabella ran out the door. They both certainly thought this was unnecessary, especially Arabella when that inn back there was the only home she had ever known, but they ran anyway. Neither of them would be able to say why if you were to ask. But they were soon justified in their impromptu race as they heard the fat one call a shrill curse, close behind, and another deeper voice that belonged to the bigger man further behind. It was astonishing. The fat man had two ball bearings in his ass and the bigger man had his groin elbowed and his face kneed. What was their deal? All of these

 Time. This abstract reality was the only thing she had too much of and too little of. This was one of the better nights, to be sure, lots of customers and no trouble. (That little incident with the overweight seaman did not count as trouble compared to some of the worse miscreants she had had to deal with.) According to her father, who had died four years ago, her mother had been abducted by pirates soon after Arabella was born. He was a brilliant man, was Dr. James Scott, but a terrible investor. While he was alive the tavern was robbed twice that Arabella could remember, and most of the scoundrels that drank there simply refused to pay up.

 As with many things seen from a distance (particularly buildings though), The Faithful Bride Inn was much bigger up close, and was nearly bursting at the seams with patrons, just as bad if not worse than the place he ran away from. Stowed away from to be specific. He pushed open the heavy wooden door, the ting! of the little door-bell lost in the tsunami of chattering, raucous cackles of both men and women, shouts for refills, and the occasional snatch of song, which was sometimes joined by the group at the table of the inspired singer, or the little, lone voice sang on it’s own a few bars, then faded away. Jack looked around trying to