08-01-2015, 11:13 AM
Night set on the Black Pearl as it left Bilgewater behind, sailing into open waters with no sense of what direction it might be headed in. For his part, Captain Jack Sparrow could not fall asleep—he sat at his desk, poring over maps and charts and his compass that didn’t work, trying his best to think of a course for him and his crew to take. See, that was the thing about trying to find something that had never (or at least very rarely) been found—oftentimes, clues were nowhere to be found, or they were few and far between. Jack held out hope, though; conceivably, Omni was not unreachable. He just had to figure out where to even start looking.
Outside his cabin, a storm raged.
Loud claps of thunder broke the Captain’s concentration as he weighed the pirate vessel’s options. The storm rocked the ship, and a little part of Jack’s mind tugged at him to make sure the night crew took good care of the Pearl; sometimes, he feared his affection for the ship crossed over into obsession. He struggled to care, though—the Black Pearl had been with him for the greater part of his life in the Omniverse, and before, so why not make sure she was always in tip top shape?
A particularly noisy bang lit up the skies outside the cabin. It sounded, vaguely, like the lightning had crashed into something more solid than sea water. Light flashed in the windows, almost blinding Jack for a split second, and he decided, at last, to make his rounds on deck. Clumsily removing himself from his work, he swaggered through the door and out into the storm.
Rain pelted him from above, beating against him like he was some abusive man’s poor wife. The crew, for their part, were struggling to keep everything steady in the midst of the storm, and in that moment, the captain missed the seasoned pirates that he might have found back home, in the Caribbean. Sure, these guys looked pretty good at their jobs, but odds were most of them had only recently been summoned into the Omniverse, so they hadn’t really had time to perfect the art of sailing, or pillaging, or plundering, or anything pirates did. But they were all he had, so they would have to do.
He began shouting orders as the storm started to overwhelm his crew, trying his best to rein in the extreme chaos that had erupted after that last crack of lighting. Luckily, it hadn’t struck anywhere on his ship—but if it hadn’t hit the Pearl, then what solid thing had it set aflame?
In the distance, Jack saw a tiny little orange light careening on the surface of the ocean. He climbed up onto one of the railings of his ship and, balancing masterfully, pulled out his spyglass to get a closer look. Through the telescope’s foggy glass, he could see a ship burning vigorously, with a bunch of small boats paddling quickly away from it and towards the Black Pearl. In the darkness, he couldn’t make out the creatures on the little boats, but they seemed to be waving for help.
Goddamn it, why did he have to be such a nice pirate?
“Alright, lads, time to play rescue!” he shouted to the crew, “Everybody get our asses moving in that direction, savvy?” He pointed toward the shipwrecked creatures. The Black Pearl began to turn, making moves toward saving whoever these people were.
Jack took a position near the wheel as the tiny boats approached his monster of a ship. First Mate Farley led a bunch of crew members in the efforts to pull the group of tiny little beasts on board. They all looked vastly different from one another, the little buggers—they looked, vaguely, like humanoid animals of some sort, for the most part. Jack traced his memory, wondering what they could be, but Farley beat him to it.
“Captain, it’s a party of Pokémon!” he shouted, and the dreadlocked captain raised his eyebrows at the word. What the hell was a Pokémon? He’d seen them before, sure, but still had little idea what they were. The only thing he knew about the creatures were that there were two major factions of them in the Vasty Deep: Cinnabar Island, a peaceful haven for misfits and random creatures of all sorts, and something called the Pokémon Liberation Front, which from all the tales Jack had heard were quite violent.
The poor creatures looked too pathetic to be members of the Liberation Front, though. They all wore extremely sad faces and—
In that instant, the Charmeleon at the head of the pack reached into the pouch of his vest and pulled out a derringer pistol, wrapping his tail around Fire-Breath Farley’s wrist and pulling him close, digging the gun into the side of the first mate’s head. The other four Pokémon in the party also quickly unloaded weapons much more impressive than anything the crew of the Black Pearl had on hand.
“We’re taking over this ship.”
Bloody hell. Where was that bitch with the big gun when you needed her?
Outside his cabin, a storm raged.
Loud claps of thunder broke the Captain’s concentration as he weighed the pirate vessel’s options. The storm rocked the ship, and a little part of Jack’s mind tugged at him to make sure the night crew took good care of the Pearl; sometimes, he feared his affection for the ship crossed over into obsession. He struggled to care, though—the Black Pearl had been with him for the greater part of his life in the Omniverse, and before, so why not make sure she was always in tip top shape?
A particularly noisy bang lit up the skies outside the cabin. It sounded, vaguely, like the lightning had crashed into something more solid than sea water. Light flashed in the windows, almost blinding Jack for a split second, and he decided, at last, to make his rounds on deck. Clumsily removing himself from his work, he swaggered through the door and out into the storm.
Rain pelted him from above, beating against him like he was some abusive man’s poor wife. The crew, for their part, were struggling to keep everything steady in the midst of the storm, and in that moment, the captain missed the seasoned pirates that he might have found back home, in the Caribbean. Sure, these guys looked pretty good at their jobs, but odds were most of them had only recently been summoned into the Omniverse, so they hadn’t really had time to perfect the art of sailing, or pillaging, or plundering, or anything pirates did. But they were all he had, so they would have to do.
He began shouting orders as the storm started to overwhelm his crew, trying his best to rein in the extreme chaos that had erupted after that last crack of lighting. Luckily, it hadn’t struck anywhere on his ship—but if it hadn’t hit the Pearl, then what solid thing had it set aflame?
In the distance, Jack saw a tiny little orange light careening on the surface of the ocean. He climbed up onto one of the railings of his ship and, balancing masterfully, pulled out his spyglass to get a closer look. Through the telescope’s foggy glass, he could see a ship burning vigorously, with a bunch of small boats paddling quickly away from it and towards the Black Pearl. In the darkness, he couldn’t make out the creatures on the little boats, but they seemed to be waving for help.
Goddamn it, why did he have to be such a nice pirate?
“Alright, lads, time to play rescue!” he shouted to the crew, “Everybody get our asses moving in that direction, savvy?” He pointed toward the shipwrecked creatures. The Black Pearl began to turn, making moves toward saving whoever these people were.
Jack took a position near the wheel as the tiny boats approached his monster of a ship. First Mate Farley led a bunch of crew members in the efforts to pull the group of tiny little beasts on board. They all looked vastly different from one another, the little buggers—they looked, vaguely, like humanoid animals of some sort, for the most part. Jack traced his memory, wondering what they could be, but Farley beat him to it.
“Captain, it’s a party of Pokémon!” he shouted, and the dreadlocked captain raised his eyebrows at the word. What the hell was a Pokémon? He’d seen them before, sure, but still had little idea what they were. The only thing he knew about the creatures were that there were two major factions of them in the Vasty Deep: Cinnabar Island, a peaceful haven for misfits and random creatures of all sorts, and something called the Pokémon Liberation Front, which from all the tales Jack had heard were quite violent.
The poor creatures looked too pathetic to be members of the Liberation Front, though. They all wore extremely sad faces and—
In that instant, the Charmeleon at the head of the pack reached into the pouch of his vest and pulled out a derringer pistol, wrapping his tail around Fire-Breath Farley’s wrist and pulling him close, digging the gun into the side of the first mate’s head. The other four Pokémon in the party also quickly unloaded weapons much more impressive than anything the crew of the Black Pearl had on hand.
“We’re taking over this ship.”
Bloody hell. Where was that bitch with the big gun when you needed her?
![[Image: 2agonyw.png]](http://i68.tinypic.com/2agonyw.png)