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Challenge: Sea Longing
January 13, 2004

By Kayden Eidyak
Januaary 13, 2004

~ Sea Longing ~

It called to him, it beckoned to him. The heave of the ocean, lull of the sea. Jack said this would happen. He warned him it would. Had told him to forget his past life and become one with the waters. He didn't listen - couldn't listen. His heart was pulled in two directions. He couldn't leave her for another. Not after he'd sacrificed so much to get her back. It wouldn't be fair. She wouldn't be able to understand, and it would break her heart. He stared out the window into the vast blue depths. Longing for the sea.

By Hereswith
January 13, 2004

~ Sea Longing ~

He had dreamed of the sea, for the whole of his life. She had come to him, like a woman, draped in emerald green, clothed in soft, sapphire blue and, sometimes, bearing the grey of death.

In calm and storm, he had ridden the waves, the king of the world, in that very moment and never again. Not ever again.

Age had not dimmed the longing; the curse had not altered it. And when his chest shattered, he thought he could see her, there, in the corner of his eye. The sea, the darling sea, who opened wide her arms.

By Jen
January 13, 2004

~ Drabble #1 ~

How does one pretend to love the shore when all one wants is to ride the wild sea? One can turn one's eyes away, but can one avert the heart?

The longing was born in the cradle: rocking, rocking, the comfort of beckoning sleep. And then the song of that maiden voyage: the creak of the mast, bending to the wind's embrace, the flutter and snap of the sails as they billow… every sound a siren's call. "Sing with me," whispers the sea. "Come, come along, come to me…"

`Tis no wonder, after all, Elizabeth grew to love a pirate.

By Jen
January 13, 2004

~ Drabble #2 ~

He'd loved her once, loved her wild and fickle heart, her blue-eyed charms, even her rash and unforgiving tempers excited him in a way no woman could. He'd left the woman and gone to his lover willingly, sacrificing everything… finally, maybe, sacrificing maybe too much for the chance to stay in her tempestuous embrace. He'd betrayed his
friend, left his wife, abandoned his son… Bootstrap Bill Turner finally knew as she swallowed him alive, dragged to the depths by the fearsome weight of a cannon: his curse was never the Aztec gold. It was in loving the sea too much.

By Sylvia
January 13, 2004

~ Sea Longing ~

The iron bars under his fingers were cold, but he desperately wanted the warmth of wood under his hands and living water under his feet, not the dead calm of stone flagging. The slap of water against his ship's hull echoed in his head as
though he stood upon her decks once again. Real or imaginary, it made no difference to him, for he could taste the salt spray in the stale prison air. Maybe it was a dream? Whatever the truth, it helped him bear each confining moment with the knowledge that the sea waited for him, just outside.

By Tinuvielgirl
January 13, 2004

~ Said the Captain to the Cabin-Boy ~

Have you ever stood on a ship and wondered, boy, what it would be if you jumped--not from a wish to end your breath before the true time comes, for that's no pirate's watchword--but only to see if you could sprout fins and be
forever within the blue--for you. tried to live without saltwater in your veins, and never truly lived? Have you ever stood on the rigging and wished to be a part of the water--to know the sea in all her moods, the darkest and the
fairest, as a swirling tempest, as polished glass?

If your truth is yes, boy, then let this be your ship!

By Biz
January 13, 2004

~ She Calls To Us ~

She calls to us. The sea does. Like a mistress. The lover we leave at each port of call. She calls and we listen. She beckons and we come. The sea spray touches us like a kiss. A fountain that we wish to drink from endlessly. But we cannot. The Curse has stolen her away, even as we feel the ebb and flow of the water beneath the ship. We feel, but we cannot touch. We touch, but we cannot feel. And slowly we wither away and die without really knowing death.

By Estelwolfe
January 14, 2004

~ Untitled Jack the Monkey Sea Longing Drabble ~

I was not bred for this sea, the lullaby call of the waves, the bitter laments that may flow without warning.

The sea in my blood is of a different sort, of green, of gentle rustles, of wind not salt-laden.

I have been long from that sea.

Captured.

Afraid.

Saved.

His pleasure became mine, his food mine, his hand the only gentle touch I felt.

And he was gentle.

And I learned to love his sea as my own.

And now even the gentle touch of his hand and the wind-swept caress of his lover, even those are denied me.

By Kahva
January 14, 2004

~ To Sail ~

I float here waiting, yearning, aching to taste the ocean's salty spray, to feel the wondrous surge of watery power undulating hypnotically beneath me. I was born to sail.

I must sail now!

Jack Sparrow understands. He knows I need to feel the wind, to breathe deep the glorious scent of freedom. Only he can truly comprehend how the ocean summons me – for it sings its siren song to him as well. I am his mistress… But the sea is master and seducer of us both.

He is my Captain. I am his Black Pearl.

Now… Bring us that horizon…

By Kahva
January 14, 2004

~ Hunting ~

Take me.

Fritter me away as you will. My darkness shall stain the waters, thanks to you.

You think the sea calls only you? Fool!

It invites me to stalk my prey in its waters... Like I hunted you.

Didn't believe a chest of gold could capture you, Barbossa?

Through you I get to spill more blood, whilst keeping you caged in an immortal hell - though you still don't realize you are imprisoned. You are my greatest prize, I shall not release you easily.

Begun by blood, by blood undone.

You shall bleed in many ways before I'm through…

~.~

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