Black
Pearl Tales
is the official archive of
Black Pearl Sails
and Black Pearl Library.
Pirates of the Caribbean
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Disney Corporation.
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a Drabble
Challenge: Stormy Weather
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By Kayden Eidyak ~ The Sky's Anger ~ The sky is angry. It thrashes the trees with howling winds. It beats the ground with a hammer of rain. It strikes out at anything that dares to reach too high with whips of white lightning. Forests crack with breaking wood. Waves toss and slap against the cliffs. The prairie grasses bend to the will of the wind. It releases all its wrath on the helpless earth, not caring for the consequences. Then like a child after a tantrum, the rain subsides abruptly, the wind dies and the clouds break to reveal a sun that stays forever bright and cheerful.
By EstelWolfe ~ The
Storm & the Sparrow ~ Watching him, standing at the helm, head lowered but with his teeth bared in that gold-filled grin of his that can also be a threat, it is hard to tell if he is fighting with the sea, with the thunder and the waves and the threat that hangs over his ship, our lives . . .or if he is merely playing with it. It is an intricate game, a game with rules that no other heart or mind could ever twist around to follow, but a game nonetheless. This is what he lives for, a sustenance that he needs just as much as a normal man needs food. Without the game, the rush, the thrill of not so much battling as merging his will with his lover, his mistress, his dream, he would not be the same. He knows that if he loses the game, if he does not at least manage a draw, she will claim him, claim all that he has claimed and swallow it whole, and I cannot doubt he cares. Still, I cannot help the fear, the uncertainty, that arise each time he begins the game anew. I do not wish to die. All it takes is one glance at him through the wind, the rain, the screams of his living dream, at his cocky grin and fierce determination, and I know that tonight will not be the night that he loses the game. He catches my eye, and I can see that he knows, as well, as he laughs, the sound merging with the intoxicating drum roll of the thunder, a wild mockery of the drum roll that would see men like him hang. It is a game, a wild, deadly, fierce game, one that I know he will eventually lose, as no man can ever hold the favor of the sea forever. I think, though, that he will hold it longer than most could, for he understands her, reads her, accepts her as what she is, and he understands that there is no personal malice in what she does. After all, for something that has always been and will always be, nothing can be truly grave, save the dead, and the dead do not know enough to play the game with her and break the monotony of eternity. That is why he smiles at her antics . . .that is why he laughs for me, to tell me all is well . . . That is why the sparrow will fly through, and not around, the
storm.
By Jemppy Maheruu ~ Children of Gaubancex ~ Guabancex
- Wind Goddess of the Caribbean
The whirling chaotic nature of the four children of Gaubancex, mother of the Caribbean, breath life into the sails. She spreads her fingers, currents of air come raging down upon the blue of the sea. They create walls of water, waves of steel. Each with the power to destroy everything I hold dear. But you see, I live for the feeling of Brisa on my face, Brisote in my hair. The wind is as old as time and goes by so many names. And if I die, I wish to be apart of it.
By Endrilkay ~ Untitled ~ Jack's crew looked up at him hungrily, awaiting their answer. "Well, Captain?" Barbossa asked with a sneer. Jack sighed. He had no choice. His crew was what
helped keep the Pearl afloat, the only thing he could count on
these days. He had to honour that, There was a strange glint in the crew's eyes, Barbossa's especially. They knew something he didn't. Thunder rumbled distantly, and the crew left, far too quiet. Deep in his bones, Jack knew one thing for certain: There was going to be some stormy weather, in more ways than one.
By ErinRua ~ Storm
Coming In ~ She plummets from the ramparts like a dove shot off the wing, blue water clapping her to itself with a furious white splash. And that is all. "Will you be saving 'er, then?" Fat chance of that, twin looks of befuddlement, and he strips coat, hat, accoutrements with brutal swiftness - "Do not lose these!" Sharp arcing dive into the deep as the sea itself shudders and darkens. Something calls. Strong arms lift and strong legs kick towards the watery ceiling above. Something awakens. Two heads break the surface in frantic spray, but the sun is already gone. Something comes.
By Cecilia ~ Untitled ~ The Greeks and Romans were convinced that the spirit of the sea was a man but I am convinced that if there is a great spirit whom controls these ‘ere waters, it is most surely a woman. Men are not like the sea. The sea is fickle and yet she is predictable. The sea is soothing and compliant, and yet she’s a harsh mistress. The sea can be insurmountable if ye cannot understand her, if ye cannot ply her properly, and yet she can reach out and strike ye down when ye least expect it. You need to know when to glide over her caressing waves like a lover, when to ride her out, and when to let her work through her rages with as wide a berth as possible. So, you see, I am convinced that concealed in the deep blue depths are the soul and spirit of a woman.
~.~
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