darksinisterman-blog

[darksinisterman-blog]

IOTL Characters based on blog aesthetic

Captain James Hook - Gold and black.

@darksinisterman

(Erase caption/steal and face my wrath.)

[darksinisterman-blog]

Death is Only the Beginning

James was the youngest member of Blackbeard’s crew by a substantial margin. Unlike merchant vessels, pirates tended to be older. A small eleven year old boy amongst them was something they would all have to get used to. And what was worse, he had never been properly taught how to fight. He could barely lift his sword, let along thrust or swing it in a way that would do any damage. So the crew took to ambushing him, hoping the sudden onslaught of 25 older men would teach him how to use his blade. The first few times it only managed to make poor James pee himself, but as he got more vigilant and a bit stronger, he could take out two or three of them before they overran him. The rest of the crew was obviously proud of his improvement and they decided he was worth keeping around, even if he was just Blackbeard’s cabin boy. They found him a lighter sword, one he could swing without any difficulty and taught him the ropes both literally and figuratively. 

Soon enough James was participating in the ship to ship battles on board the Queen Anne’s Revenge. He was allowed to fire the cannons, cut enemy grappling lines, and if someone came on board he was allowed to engage them. But at only eleven, Blackbeard didn’t think he was ready to be at the front line of attack and board the enemy ship. Still, it was really all James wanted, he wanted to fight, he wanted to kill a man. He wanted to prove that he was just as much of a pirate as the rest of the crew. He wasn’t just a boy, he was so much more than just a boy. 

One day, nearing his twelfth birthday, he seized his opportunity. They were attacking a much smaller ship, and English brig that couldn’t have been carrying much, but they needed supplies. Food, water, more ammunition. It should have been an easy capture, raid and sink operation. James couldn’t have asked for a better situation to sneak into the fight. He stood on deck by his cannon and awaited orders. They fired a volley to get the brig’s attention and when it stopped they all threw grapples to pull the smaller ship to them. James’s brown eyes flashed with excitement. He knew he would be disobeying orders by throwing himself into the fight, but it would all be ignored when he came back with a kill under his belt. His crewmates would all be so proud, and Blackbeard would see his worth as a full member of the crew. 

When the railings of the two ships touched, James was the first one over the side onto the other ship. He heard Blackbeard yelling behind him, but he didn’t care, he was here to do a job. His crewmates next to him all shouted as well, but they didn’t sound angry, they were all excited. He heard the ring of metal on metal as the small crew of the brig fought back against his brothers. James drew his sword and thrust at a man almost twice his size. The enemy was taken aback by James, almost laughing before he felt the cold steel graze his side. James stomped his foot, ready for the man to attack. The man drew his sword and lazily thrust at James who parried with great skill, almost causing the man to drop his sword. 

“You’d do well to take me seriously as an opponent or your death will come far to swiftly.” James tried to keep his voice steady, deep, and level, but it cracked when he said seriously and he hoped it wouldn’t diminish his worth to this man. The man stifled a laugh which made James’s brown eyes flash red. The man’s expression changed from humored to worried at the sight and let his sword arm fall for a moment. James slashed at the arm and saw the thick red blood drip down from the superficial wound. It wouldn’t kill, but it would slow this man down. 

Shaken, but not dead, the man raised his wounded arm and again tried to thrust at James, and again it was easily parried away. James could see the man getting angry now, as if being bested by a boy was not how he had planned to spend his Tuesday, let alone the last day of his life. James met every attempted strike with a successful parry and followed up with a small strike of his own. The man was bleeding from his hands, both arms, both legs, and his side before he even had time to register that James had struck. His torso was covered in blood, his face was showing his exhaustion and he was close to giving up. 

James knew he had to act fast, as a man who surrendered was not a man one could end. The man’s final thrust made it’s mark and went through James’s left shoulder, making his whole arm feel like it was on fire, but with a sword stuck in his arm he saw a chance. He lifted his right arm, yelled something guttural and thrust his sword into the man’s belly. He felt is punch through everything important all the way through the other side. His eyes flashed red again as blood began to ooze out of the man’s mouth. He coughed and sputtered, the wound not allowing him the peace of a swift death. “H-how? Wh-who are you?” He pushed out with ragged breaths. James pulled the man close to his face and whispered right in his ear, “I’m Jim Cartwright, and I am the sea’s worst nightmare.” He shoved the man over, and saw a final flash of fear in his eyes before they glassed over like a fish. The blood stopped being pushed from him and gently flowed across the deck, his head lolled over to one side, and his sword clattered to the deck. 

James could hear no sound but his own blood rushing in his ears. He was suddenly very aware that he was very much alive, and that his shoulder hurt. He knew he would be in trouble for getting himself stabbed, but he had taken down another in the process. He turned and looked around, still unable to hear properly from the adrenaline. The whole crew was staring at him, mouths agape. Even Blackbeard looked stunned. “Jim. You just took down the captain. Alone.” James looked back at the man dead on the deck, he hadn’t noticed the marks of his rank before now, but there they were, obvious on his lifeless body. Either from shock of what he had accomplished, or his body going into actual shock due to his wound, James collapsed on the deck unconcious.

While he was out, James had a strange dream. Nothing was really clear other than the voice of the captain of that brig saying over and over again “Death is only the beginning.” James didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded very powerful. 

After all, what is death but a new beginning? Death is only the beginning. 

[darksinisterman-blog]

lillyreed-iotl:

Mere moments after solemnly watching her Father, her crew, and her ship disappear into an illuminated pool of vibrant green light, Lilly sighed in annoyance before looking around at the golden sands of the island she had been deserted on. She noticed the man with a hook beginning to advance towards her from the outskirts of the forest. Captain Hook. She simply knew him because her Father sometimes mentioned him. In taverns, people told her tales of his many misadventures, but she had passed them off as drunken ramblings. Ignoring the Captain, Lilly kept her eyes fixed on the horizon, resisting the urge to roll them at how positively euphoric a few of the crew would be at the news her absence. Falsely, she had been told that this was for her own safety; the island would protect her from the worst danger the realm had ever faced. Lilly was reckless, yes, but not stupid. She considered herself intelligent enough to recognize a lie. She knew the truth. The crew had grown restless, superstitiously afraid of having a grown woman aboard a ship, disregardful of the fact that the ship was rightfully hers (at least it would have been, eventually.) Superstition was a fallacy to the pirate girl. How could it possibly be unlucky to have a woman aboard a ship? Lilly knew that - even at her age - she was significantly better than the so-called pirates that made up her Father’s crew.

Seething at the absence of her once foreseeable future, Lilly glanced up at Hook, who now stood beside her, shielding her eyes from the beating sun. She sighed at his piteous tone; she didn’t want - or need- his apologies. Her situation had absolutely nothing to do with him, except that she was to join his crew. Finally turning to face him she scoffed, “I know who you are.” Brown eyes narrowed at his eagerness to share opinions, but she nodded regardless. “But…thanks.”

The image of the vanishing green portal had burned into her eyes, so she rubbed them in a poor attempt to dislodge the light. Gesturing towards the silhouette of a ship (she assumed it was his) she offered Hook a small smile, taking control of the situation. “We should probably go before dark, so, lead the way.” 

Hook looked where she gestured, back towards the Jolly Roger. It was definitely a smaller ship than she was used to, that he knew for sure. But it would make a good place for her, as any ship would. He turned his back to her and started walking, motioning that she should follow. He led her into the trees, rather than walking along the beach, as was his standard practice. He looked over his shoulder at her. “While the ship is safe, and you will rarely have to worry while you are on board, the rest of the island is a hellscape of demons. I recommend staying under cover of some kind at all times, lest the flying one sees you.”

He realized he had much to explain to the girl, but now was not the time nor the place to do so. He shot her a look that he hoped she understood to mean I’ll fill you in when we are safe. His eyes darted back and forth across the trees in front of them as they walked, trying to keep ahead of any threats that might try and get to them. He didn’t want her getting attacked in her first 24 hours on the island, though word traveled fast among his enemies and they were always wary of new pirates. He wasn’t up for a fight. Luckily for them, they made it all the way to the ship without an incident.

He stuck his head out of the trees, waved to the look out who shouted the all clear and then Hook strolled out of the tree line onto the sand, up the gangway and onto the deck. He turned to face Lilly and said “Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger. Sorry about all that sneaking and crypticness, the island isn’t the safest place to be telling you what you have gotten into. But here we are, my ship. Safest place for pirates in Neverland.”

Keeping it in the Family

[darksinisterman-blog]

              S w a l l o w e d  by a vicious, vengeful sea                           Darker days are raining over me                                   In the deepest depths I lost myself                                              See myself through someone else

[darksinisterman-blog]

                                     i may be as pretty as an 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁

                                           but i sure as 𝐻𝐸𝐿𝐿

                                                                      ain’t one

[darksinisterman-blog]

                                             ONE  look at your face                                        brings down the human race                                        to their knees,                                                                  to their knees 

                                         BEGGING 

                                            ❝ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ꜱᴘᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ!  ❞

[darksinisterman-blog]

                             These ɢʜᴏꜱᴛꜱ come creeping across the floor                                    whispering  ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ I’ve made before

                                      They slither up these peeling walls.                                         I hear them scratching in the halls.                                       They drag themselves into my bed. 

                                They won’t get out of my  f u c k i n g  head!

[darksinisterman-blog]

                      The   ＤＥＶＩＬ’ｓ   got  nothing  on  me,  my  friend…

[darksinisterman-blog]

oliver-smith-smee:

Oliver found himself in the same position that he was always in, laying a woman down to allow her to find her eternal rest. Just as he soothed the woman, telling her about the favor he was doing, he heard door open and slam shut. He quieted, listening to see what the drunk would do.

In that moment the woman tried to move, scrambling to catch the attention of whoever just came out. Oliver pushed her down, trying to hold her in place while waiting for the person to leave. A quiet “sorry mate” was heard, and the man started to leave. Except he turned back, and Oliver wanted to scream in the moment, a kick on his leg and he could feel the demon growling. He couldn’t get caught, not now, not after a year of getting away with it to only be caught by a drunken idiot.

Oliver froze, his breath held in his lungs as he waited for the man’s reaction. When he finally spoke, Oliver was surprised. He only cocked his head to the side, making eye contact with a young man behind him. He simply smirked before turning back to the woman, cutting her throat and watching as she gurgled out. He stood up and stretched before turning to the man, “I usually like to watch my victims bleed out, but unfortunately this one was a little more difficult than the others.” He gave a grin before holding out his bloody hand, “The name’s Oliver Smith.”

James reached down to the man who called himself Oliver and bumped his hand with his own hook. He extended his left hand to pull Oliver to his feet. “Usually huh? So this is a regular thing for you?” James looked down at the woman. There wasn’t anything special about her, not to James at least. Rather plain looking with what used to be blonde hair, though it was now soaked in blood. His eyes had now fully adjusted to the dim alley light and he saw that Oliver was just barely old enough to be considered a man. 17 maybe 18 at the oldest. 

“Not to pry as it really isn’t any of my business but what would push a man your age to do something like this?” He leaned up against the alley wall, the smell of blood and other standard alley way stenches was quickly sobering him up. He looked Oliver up and down once more and figured he was a goon enough person to spend some time on. Sure James wasn’t the type to spend too much time in one place, but it was dark, the alley was secluded enough, he could chat for a while.

He looked down at his hook and contemplated how to introduce himself to the boy. “You can call me James. James Hook.”

First Meeting

[darksinisterman-blog]

There’s only 24 hours in a day… 

                              and  h a l f  of those, you lay awake 

                                                with thoughts of 

                                             ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ

                                                          && 

                                             ᴄᴀʀɴᴀɢᴇ

[darksinisterman-blog]

Keeping it in the Family

@lillyreed-iotl

It had been many moons since James had laid eyes on his old friends Will and Elizabeth. He had been a young boy 13 at their first meeting, back before Will knew of his pirate heritage and back when Elizabeth was just a young girl with her ringlet curls. Their last meeting had been shortly after the meeting of the nine pirate lords when Elizabeth was named Pirate King. He attended their wedding shortly thereafter and that was the last time he had seen them. He had left for Neverland and they both wanted to continue to roam the seas. He understood, but he had a mission to avenge Blackbeard and his own hand on Neverland. But he kept in touch with them as best he could. When they told him they were expecting a child he was ecstatic. When Will would write him about the troubles of having a little girl on board their ship at all times, he would try and empathize and send words of encouragement. And when he received the letter from Will and Elizabeth saying they would soon be dropping Lilly off in Neverland in the attempt to keep her safe, Hook of course wrote back immediately saying he had no problem taking her in. She had been raised a pirate on a ship and she would stay thus even if she was in danger on the mainland or the unprotected seas surrounding it. He would take her in as a crew member. 

So on the day that the letter had stated, which was hard to calculate because of the way time worked on the island, James went to the beach to collect the poor girl who had been left in his care. He stood on the sand behind a few palms as he watched William and Elizabeth say their goodbyes to the girl, he didn’t want to interrupt them. He rather didn’t want the sadness of a short meeting with them either so he just caught Will’s eye and waved from the trees with his hook. Will smiled at him before he climbed back into the small boat to row back out to his ship. Elizabeth gave a short wave his way and joined her husband. Hook watched as they rowed back out to the boat, and watched as the ship vanished over the horizon with a green flash. Only then did he approach the girl. 

“Lilly,” he said almost apologetically as he made his way out from behind the trees towards here. “It’s good to finally lay eyes on you girl. You look so like your mother. And yet so like your father.” He finally made it to the spot of sand she was standing on and stood next to her, looking out at the waves where the ship had vanished. “Listen to me babbling like an old man. I’m James. James Hook. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

[darksinisterman-blog]

Where Is It?

@stayfrsty

Hook woke up in his bunk in his cabin as he did every morning. He dressed himself and he wandered aimlessly around his cabin for a bit before deciding on the plans for the day. He sat himself down at his beautiful desk and looked at his reflection in the small hand mirror on the desk top. He needed a shave, and his brown eyes looked tired, but that was the price he had to pay for running a crew of absolute imbeciles. He only had a few crew members worth a damn and still he only trusted Smee. 

He rubbed his eyes, his left with a balled up fist, and his right with a stump. He made a mental note to use his fancier hook for today, as it was his birthday (or he thought so at least time was weird on the island) and he deserved something nice on this godforsaken hellscape of an island. The open porthole at the back of the cabin let the early morning daylight filter in, and the salt air really perked James up. He took a deep breath and gazed down at the map before him. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, he was just proud of his cartography skills.

He rose from his desk and made his way over to the small cabinet where he kept his various hooks. He pulled it open and noted that he had apparently left it unlocked which was odd, but not completely unreasonable. He lazily flipped open the velvet lined box that held his fanciest hook and found that it was empty. He fumed and felt his eyes blaze to red as he stormed across his cabin to the door. He threw the door open and shouted “WHERE IS IT? WHO TOOK IT?” 

[darksinisterman-blog]

First Meeting

@oliver-smith-smee

Hook stumbled out the back door of the little Irish pub he had been drinking at and found himself in an alley way alone. He hadn’t meant to be alone. He looked around and saw that he had apparently left tonight’s shag sitting at the bar by herself which was honestly just bad form on his part. He turned back to go inside and get her, but the door was locked. “Bollocks.” He whispered it.

It was very very dark in the alley way behind him, and he could hear movement. He spun on his heel and stuck his hook forward as if it were a sword. It was the best he could do in the moment, and his alcohol addled mind thought it would be the perfect defense. He had sharpened it after all. He heard the muffled sound of a struggle and inched his way towards the sounds. As he eased closer he saw two forms, one larger than the other, on the ground. Thinking he stumbled onto some weird back alley sex den he muttered, “sorry mate,” and turned to walk back the way he came. It wasn’t until his eyes adjusted a bit more that he noticed one of the parties was covered in blood. 

He took a few more steps closer to the pair, misjudged the closeness and accidentally kicked the man in the thigh. He heard a soft gurgling moan come from the woman on the ground and he tilted his head to look at her. The man had done a good job, sure but he hadn’t finished her off in one fell swoop. She was bleeding out and if she tried hard enough she would probably have been able to scream out, which was the last thing James needed. He was avoiding the police as best he could as he had a fair few warrants out for his arrest at this point in time. “You have to cut her throat mate, don’t want her to scream and get you caught do ya?” he whispered to the man before him.

[darksinisterman-blog]

James had found himself a 14 year old in the year 2010, so far in the future from what he knew. He dragged had dragged himself to the hospital to get his stump cleaned and they tried to hand him a prosthetic hand. He politely declined and opted for a shiny, sharp hook. Sure, he was a boy out of his time, but he was excited about exploring this new time and this new version of the place he loved so dearly. 

James quickly learned that the future was terrible and far too complicated for his liking. Sure everything was shiny, and everything went fast, but there weren’t as many people who took pride in their work like he had. There weren’t the hard working sailors, or the proud scholars that there were in his time. He found solace working for the various tall ship replicas around the country, going on day sails and teaching children his age how to do honorable, respectable work. He was proud of what he could do and he always got a laugh out of their reaction to him using his hook as a boat hook.

James spent several years floating between vessels all across the country, spending his time off stealing alcohol in the attempts to drown his memory. He had learned quickly in his first few years not to bring up Blackbeard or Neverland or the pirates. He had to make up a story about how he had lost his hand to tell all his new employers and all the kids who would ask. By 18, he had it down. He was in a car accident that killed his parents and he lost his hand. It seemed to be a good enough story for most people and they tended to not ask more questions. At 18 he was working for a ship in Washington state and he rather enjoyed the rainy cold weather. It reminded him of London, and of his childhood. The main difference was that the rain and the cold no longer made him sick. He was able to make it through and entire wet winter without a single trip to hospital which he considered a blessing and an accomplishment.

On all of the vessels that James found himself, he gained the nickname “Hook” simply because it fitted him better than James or Jim. He was sullen, surly, and dark, removed from the rest of the crew. He had a hard time finding it in him to trust anyone and he couldn’t build up the bonds with these crewmates as he had with his first crew or with Blackbeard’s men. It’s why he moved around so frequently. He often found himself getting close to people and would move on to the next ship. He made his way around the country twice this way, working on several ships more than once. Crew turn-over on these boats was nothing new and he would often have a completely new set of names to learn. The captains remained the same, and though they found James to be odd, they valued his hard work and the lack of drama that surrounded him.

After four years touring around America on various different vessels, James opted for a slight change of scenery and made his way north to Canada. He figured Nova Scotia would have something to offer and he found a few small schooners there in need of deckhands. For another year James bounced around these boats, which were mostly owned by rich men who had no desire to actually sail the vessels themselves. He wasn’t respected or treated like a valuable person, so James sabotaged their boats on occasion. Eventually James got fed up with the mistreatment and wound up working his way back down to the states. At least there he was respected. At least there he had value. He took some time off from boats to just travel the country. He stole his way across the states, robbing convenience stores, sleeping with prostitutes, and drinking himself almost to death. He saw all the sights, and he found the shadiest parts of the country. He was among his people, the lowlifes, the drunks, the whores. The people who the world forgot. He felt like he was home and it was here that James spent much of his time.

Before he knew it a few more years had passed, and he hadn’t seen the water in ages. He was always drunk, always tired, and usually spending his nights in some shitty hotel room with a woman who said her name was Starfire or something along those lines. It was the first time in his life he had forgotten about his past, the first time he didn’t have the dread and misery looming over him. He almost managed to forget about life at sea at all. And it was here in the inner city that James Hook met the man who he would eventually call brother. It was here, in the dark dank streets, covered in piss, blood, vomit and other unmentionables that James found a home within a person. It was here that James remembered who he was, remembered what he was supposed to be. At 21 years old, James Hook literally stumbled into the man who would change his life: Mr. Smee.

[darksinisterman-blog]

When James awoke, he thought surely he had joined most of the crew and his captain in death. But he looked around and saw he was in the belly of a ship. A ship full of mismatched crates, barrels and burlap sacks. As he let his eyes adjust to the dim light of a ship’s hold he realized that he was in a cage, or rather a cell. He sat up and looked closer at the surroundings. All the mismatched cargo was thrown half-hazardly around the hold, none of it was secured, and the company stamps had all been burned or scratched off. James gulped for he knew what all those signs together would mean. Pirates. He had been captured by the pirates. Forget the fact that they had probably rescued him from a cruel death by drowning, they had stolen him away from his fellow crew. He stood and paced back and forth trying to think of a way out of this. When he stopped moving for a moment he felt something weighty in his pocket. He pulled it out: the spyglass. Had it really just been since that morning that all of this had transpired? It seemed like an age.

 James walked up to the heavy iron bars that surrounded him and rattled the door a bit. To his surprise, it swung open easily. Not the best security for blood thirsty pirates. He strolled out the door and carefully made his way towards a narrow ladder that looked like it was towards the bow, just based on the curve of the hull. He steeled himself, knowing that his break out would probably not be a welcome event to the pirates above.

James popped up on the deck above him and he was still not on the main deck. He could hear feet slapping the boards above and the hustle and bustle of a working ship. He stopped at the next ladder, his heart beating violently in his chest. As much as he hated these men for killing his captain, and likely all the crew he had known for the past year, he felt himself being filled with excitement. He loved the sea, and loved being on a ship, and he was having a hard time finding a difference between this ship and the Nomad.

He climbed up the ladder quickly and pushed open the hatch covering the ladder and felt the sun on his skin and smelled the salt air. He pulled himself out of the hatch opening and looked around him. He saw a ship, very similar on deck to the Nomad if you take away the fact that it had several guns on deck. There were three masts, tons of sails, and lines everywhere just waiting to be handled. There were men running around in various different states of urgency, cleaning, tarring, painting, and working sails. None of them seemed to notice James as he padded across the deck to the railing. He looked down at the waves below and saw the black muzzles of many cannons bristling out along the side of the hull, and was rather in awe of the sight of that much force.

“Ah, the boy has awoken.” He heard a voice from behind him. He spun quickly and saw a man standing on the quarter deck in front of the Captain’s cabin door. With black hair hanging in rings around his face, and blue sparkling eyes, the man seemed almost angelic, until James saw the smoking embers of lit fuses that were twisted into his beard. This was Blackbeard. The pirate James had heard of only in legend and quite frankly the legends did not do justice to just how terrifying the man himself was. James gulped and lightly touched the spyglass in his pocket, hoping it would give him the courage to speak.

“Why am I here? Why didn’t you let me die with honor with my crewmates?” He managed to spit out, looking lamely up at the dark man before him. He saw a smile flicker across the pirate’s eyes, but it never crossed his mouth. It appeared as though Blackbeard had no intention of dropping his masquerade for James. James could feel his feet moving under him, but did not recall giving them any order to walk, but he soon found himself standing on the quarter deck, toe to toe with the large man with the flaming beard. “Answer me, pirate.” He spat the last word through gritted teeth. This time, Blackbeard did smile. He laughed at James and slammed a hand down on his shoulder.

“Well I needed a cabin boy, you see. My last one grew far too big for the job and you are just young enough to do the job. Besides, I make a point of not killing a man before his 15th year and you can’t be more than 12.” He turned his back and gestured for James to follow. James was, to his chagrin, intrigued by this man and by his offer so he did follow. “You’re welcome by the way.” Blackbeard threw the phrase over his shoulder like a discarded note, and the words hit James in the face as he realized his bad form.

“Thank you. Sir.” He muttered, more out of formality than actual gratitude. Blackbeard threw open the door to his cabin and showed James around, pointing out what things were to be his daily duties, the small bunk that would be his own just inside the door, and telling him to not let the crew be too mean to him. James didn’t really understand why the captain was being so nice to him, it was as if he felt sorry for him. Blackbeard made to leave the cabin and James went to sit down on his small bed, accepting that this was now his lot in life. The captain stopped before he reached the door and spun on his heal. “I forgot, you’ll be needing this.” Blackbeard pulled a short saber from the wall and handed it to James. It was beautiful and sharp and perfectly weighted for James’s young arm. James looked at it, awestruck, and gently ran his hand across the flat of the blade. “Thank you sir!” He said this time meaning it entirely. Maybe these pirates aren’t as bad as I thought.

Blackbeard once again made to leave and as he pulled the door open he looked back and asked, “How old are you boy? And what’s your name? I can’t just keep calling you boy.” James looked down at his sword and at the lump in his pocket from his spyglass. “James Matthew Cartwright sir. And eleven. Eleven years old today.” 

“Alright Jim, welcome to Blackbeard’s crew.” The door closed behind the captain and James pulled his spyglass out of his pocket. He rose and set it and his new saber both on the thin mattress that was to be his home for the foreseeable future and let a small whistle of approval escape his lips. “Jim Cartwright. Pirate. I never…”

And thus James became known as Jim on board and he was the cabin boy for Blackbeard on board the Queen Anne’s Revenge. Shortly into his first year on board, they made their way to and island the crew all called Neverland. When they arrived, James was allowed shore leave where he met loads of boys all his age and it was very exciting for him to get to play again. He hadn’t been able to play in years. He befriended James Matthew Barrie (who he particularly liked as they shared not only a first name but a middle name as well,) John and Michael Darling, and a group of boys who call themselves the Lost Boys. They all have curious names and even curiouser behavior, and James enjoys spending some of his shore time with them, exploring the island. Blackbeard does not find what he is looking for on the island and when James boards again before their departure he hears the captain grumbling about a boy king and about a heart. He takes no real note of it and enjoys the trip back to the mainland.

The Queen Anne’s Revenge made its way back to America, the coast of the Carolinas to be specific and spent a time there. Blackbeard confided in James that he had every intention of retiring to these waters someday. Building a house and living on the coast rather than pillaging it. James didn’t believe him for one minute, he knew Blackbeard intended to die at sea, brave and honorable. James had grown to love this captain as he had loved his last, sort of as a surrogate father. James like the Carolina coastline, it was rocky and covered in tall islands that were perfect for all sorts of strategic hideouts. He thought if he didn’t die an honorable death at sea, he would move here rather than go back to England. They stayed in America for a few years and on the event of James’s 14th birthday Blackbeard decided to make his way back to Neverland for the second time.

Once back on the island, James found that his captain had far more sinister intentions as he planned to steal what was called the Heart of Neverland. It seemed this heart was the source of all Neverland's magic and Blackbeard wanted it for himself for more nefarious things. James was torn. He loved the magical realm of Neverland, and he loved his captain like a father. He didn’t want to betray him, and he didn’t want to destroy Neverland either. In the middle of the first night on the island, James was stolen away by a shadow: the shadow of the boy king.  He was taken to the campgrounds and became Pan’s prisoner of war. James was furious. No one took him away from his ship and from his family, he cared not if this boy called himself king, he was not in charge of James. When Peter finally showed his face to James, he was ready to tear Peter to pieces for keeping him tied up when there was a war on. Peter, however, pulled James to his feet with his hands still bound. Peter dragged James back to the ship and threw him on the deck. Blackbeard came out of his cabin at the noise of a body hitting his quarter deck. He saw James lying there with his hands bound, completely helpless.

“You have no quarrel with him, boy. It’s me. It’s my crewmen you want.” Blackbeard drew his sword on the boy in front of him and there was now mercy in his sparkling blue eyes. James watched as a group of new Lost children made their way out of the woods onto the ship. Boys and girls with weapons and bloodlust in their eyes, and they turned the crew into ribbons in front of James’s eyes. Blood pooled on the deck the way the water would in a rain storm, and body parts rolled passively across the curve of the deck when the wind rocked her slightly. James watched as these savages made their way through the crew as though they were nothing more than paper, rather than the human men he had grown up with the past few years. He felt hot tears on his face as he watched his family slaughtered, but he could not look away. When the last man was mere pieces of himself on the scarlet washed deck, the savages made their way back into the woods. No remorse. No emotion. They were just gone. It was only Pan, Blackbeard, and a weeping James left on board the Queen Anne’s Revenge.

Deftly, Pan knocked the sword out of Blackbeard’s hand, and closed the gap between them. The devil boy and the demon captain stood toe to toe glowering at each other. Pan placed his hand on Blackbeard’s chest, over the man’s heart. James thought this was an odd play, but then he saw the boy’s fingers ripping into his captain’s chest. The still beating heart of Blackbeard was in Pan’s hand as Blackbeard slumped to the deck clutching his chest for a moment as he took a few beats to die. He looked up at James, blood covering his hands, and fell back on the deck. James let out a guttural howl at the sight, which turned Pan’s attention to him. Pan made his way to James and lifted him off the deck with his blood stained hands. Pan picked up the sword that he had knocked out of the pirate’s hand and used it to sever the bonds that tied James’s hands. He grabbed James by the right wrist and sliced his hand off without a thought or a flinch. Pan threw his hand over the railing into the waves below where it sank to the depths.

Pan looked James in the eyes, James’s were the firey red they became when he experienced any negative emotion, Peter’s a calm green. “Leave.” The word fell like a stone between them. “Leave Neverland, and let this,” Pan gestured at the bleeding stump where James’s right hand used to be, “serve as a warning to anyone else dares to test me again.”

Pan vanished off the deck of the Queen Anne’s Revenge, and James wrapped his shirt around the mangled stump that used to be his wrist, trying to stop the bleeding. He passed out partly from shock, partly from blood loss, but mostly because his body was weary with grief. When he awoke, he was no longer in Neverland. When he awoke, he was on the sandy shores of South Carolina. Okracoke to be specific. Blackbeard’s dream retirement spot. James looked at his disgusting wound and remembered the events of the previous night. He sobbed and sobbed before dragging himself to his feet. He looked around him and saw that he had clearly been a victim of the famous Neverland time warps, as it was no longer his time. Massive metal ships steamed past him, and there were things speeding past him on four wheels just above the beach. Where – no – when had the island dropped him?

[darksinisterman-blog]

James Matthew Cartwright was born, the first, only, and sickly child of Mr. Arnold Fletcher Cartwright and Mrs. Aggie Josephine Cartwright. They were an upstanding, wealthy family from Kensington. Though Mr. Cartwright was a highly respected citizen, his union with his wife, Aggie, was frowned upon by many. She came from a poor family living in Whitechapel, and Arnold’s family saw no benefit from the union of the two families. Obviously Arnold was not interested in Aggie for any benefits, Arnold loved Aggie. They were married in a small ceremony away from the rest of their families and they started their life together in Kensington shortly thereafter. 

When James came along, the couple was over joyed. They had wanted a child for a good long while, and they had a son! A first born son to carry on the family name! James was born early. He was tiny and sick, but he was loved. His mother still thinks it was her love for him that saved him in those early days when no one knew whether or not he would make it. But make it he did, though he spent quite a bit of his youth in and out of hospital. 

James’s ailments and illnesses wore on his father, and Arnold soon began to lash out at his son more frequently than was really necessary. Lucky for James he was fortunate enough to go to be admitted to Eton at a young age. Typically the school was for boys aged 13 - 18, but for legacy sons, they could do their primary schooling at Eton as well. From age 6, James was kept away from his family, relatively safe and sound at school. James had the misfortune however of being bullied by many of the boys at Eton. He only had one true friend, named Roger. Roger was always so pleased and quick to grin that James had the tendency to call him Jolly Roger. Roger was, like James, an early admitted legacy. It was Roger who figured out that the other boys didn’t like James because of his mother’s heritage. Apparently no African boys had ever been admitted to Eton before and James dark skin was something of an oddity. James took the bullying in stride as it was better than the lack of feeling he would have at home. At least here they paid attention to him. 

After 4 good years at Eton, James found himself being made to say goodbye to Jolly Roger forever as Arnold had found James a “very beneficial apprenticeship” on board a merchant sailing vessel. Truthfully Arnold was looking for any possible way to get his sickly son off his hands. His he felt no love for his first and only child. After all James was simply so lacking in all areas. Not big, not strong, not smart, not attractive. James was simply James. So, at 10 years old, James climbed on board his first ship. He was to be apprenticed to the captain with the intention of becoming an officer in 4 short years. 

James found himself enamored with ship life, and it seemed the salty sea air and the constant time in the sun did wonders for his poor health. He was rarely ill, and even then it was just the occasional seasickness, which was easy enough to manage. Learning the ways of the ship was very interesting to James, and he caught on very quickly. The vessel he was apprenticed on was a simple, but large, three masted barque called Nomad. 22 sails, miles of rigging, and James simply felt like he had his own personal playground. Though he was just a boy, and would have been suited most for cabin boy, or powder monkey for the 2 small cannons on board, James was always begging for more interesting tasks. Sitting in the captain’s cabin, waiting on something to clean or polish was no way to learn how to become a captain. Thankfully, Captain Davies took to James quickly and doted on him a bit. If James asked to climb the shrouds and help loose sail, James was allowed to climb and help. If James asked to fire the guns when nothing was in range because he wanted to know how they worked, the guns were fired. If James wanted to stand watch, high up in the rigging looking for other ships on the horizon, James was allowed to do just that.

And that’s where James was on the morning of his eleventh birthday. Captain Davies had woken him early to give him a gift: a magnificent brass spyglass. The captain told James to scamper up to his look out perch and keep watch for the morning, and then they would have a lovely feast, albeit of stale bread and salted meat, later that day in his honor. Sadly, that feast never came. Shortly after James had settled himself down on his makeshift platform he saw a dot on the horizon. Yesterday James would have waited a while for the dot to come better into view, but today he had his new shiny spyglass. He pressed the lens to his right eye, and closed his left, slowly sweeping the glass across the horizon until he saw it: A black and red full rigged ship on the horizon, slowly but steadily making its way towards the Nomad. James couldn’t see their colors, it seemed as though they weren’t flying any, but the ship itself made his blood run cold. Something about it just felt like trouble to him.

James quickly yelled down from the platform to get the mate of the watch’s attention. “SHIP. DEAD AHEAD. CAN’T SEE ANY COLORS SIR.” He heard the mate’s conformation and watched as he put his own spyglass to his eye. He saw the color drain out of the officer’s face as he lowered his eyeglass and turned back towards the captain’s cabin. James quickly clambered down from his platform back to deck, and took off at a run towards Captain Davies’s cabin. He skidded to a halt in front of the companion way door and gave it a quick hard knock. Davies called for him to come down and James all but sprinted down the ladder. All 3 of the officers were standing around the table in the salon. Captain Davies, Chief Mate Foster, and 2nd Mate Smith all looked grim. “What is it sir?” James said, still not sure why his blood felt cold in his veins, though he was feeling more and more warranted in his feeling. Captain Davies turned to his apprentice and placed a gentle, calloused hand on James’s shoulder. “Pirates.” The word shot though James like a lead ball and pierced his brain with a stab of ice. Pirates. James repeated it in his mind. He could think of nothing to say, nothing to do, no way to be useful in this moment. “Are you sure?” He managed to whisper. He knew Captain Davies was never wrong about anything. He knew when storms were coming, he knew when they would get a good cargo, when the food would go bad, everything. And he knew what kind of ship that was on the horizon. More than likely he knew who’s ship that was on the horizon, even without the colors flying. Davies nodded solemnly at James. “Blackbeard to be specific.”

The officers made the plans and James relayed the information to the crew as quickly as he could. They were to run. They only had two small 4 pound guns on deck, not nearly enough to hope to face down a fully gunned ship. They were smaller, and hopefully faster, and only a day’s sail from the nearest port. They would run.

And run they did, but it was not enough. Sooner than they could have imagined, the larger ship was closing range. They were quickly close enough to fire bow guns, and the pirates did just that. James felt the ship beneath him shake and lurch in the water as the 6 pound stones hit them square on the stern. He ran up to the railing around the quarter deck and leaned over as far as he dared to look at the damage. It was worse than he thought. James ran down the companionway to the officer’s quarters and stared out the two very large holes in the stern. He heard a soft voice behind him and he looked to see Captain Davies pinned between the wall and a cannon ball. James walked over to him, gingerly stepping around the bits of hull that littered the deck in the salon. Davies grabbed James by the front of his ragged shirt and pulled him close. “Take whoever is left, get in the small boats, and run. Get as far away as you can. You run James, and you never look back.” James felt tears welling up in his small eleven year old eyes as he turned to run back up the companionway stairs. He whispered a small “fair winds Captain Davies, and a following sea. Until we meet again on kinder shores.” He heard the ragged breathing cease and he ran up the stairs.

Getting the crew into the boats, launching the boats, and rowing away from the Nomad was all a blur to James. He finally came back to reality when one of his crewmates shouted something from the small boat next to him. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the ship being pulled under the waves after a few more canon blasts ripped the hull to pieces. He looked away from the ship he had called home for almost a year before the masts dipped beneath the waves never to be seen again. Why hadn’t the pirates taken anything? Why did they just sink the Nomad? That didn’t seem anything like what Captain Davies had told James about pirates at all. They should have boarded, taken them prisoner, and stolen the cargo. They did none of that. Was this Blackbeard’s method? Was it just a scare tactic? Jame had a thousand thoughts running through his head as he watched his crewmate row. He was lost in all these thoughts when he heard screaming from the small boat a few yards away and he looked over just in time to see a 12 pound shot land right in the middle, shattering the tiny boat into splinters and sending the crew into the unforgiving sea. All the men in his boat started screaming as well. 2 jumped over the side into the water as they heard the command from the pirate ship to fire on them. James heard the shot. He heard the splintering of wood. He felt the cold water on his skin, and then he felt the air leaving his lungs as he sank. 

[darksinisterman-blog]

                  I  can’t  drown   my              D  E  M  O  N  S                  they know  how  to              S     W     I     M