Pirate and His Parrot 3 - Scarian AU

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Part three of my lovely little mini-series :3

Tws: loneliness, terrible self-care :c oh, and also getting attacked by undead ocean zombies

- - - 

Scar had forgotten how lonely captaining a one-man ship could be. Sure, the captain always held the reputation and glory, but without his crew? Without his crew, a captain was nothing. Scar had learned to live like that. He had lived like that, for a very long time, becoming accustomed to the lone pirate life. Bringing the parrot on board, however, had changed something, some survival instinct deep inside Scar. Little by little, he'd gotten attached to the bird. The curious little parrot's presence slowly chipped away at the knot of hurt and loneliness in his chest, driving it away. Having company lessened a desperate longing for friendship, a desire that had gone unnoticed by the pirate for many years. For those months, Scar was happier than he'd been in a very long time. 

So, when his feathered friend flew away without hesitation, and Scar found himself alone, the crushing desolation swept over him like the ruthless ocean tide. It caught him off guard, and he made a small, wounded noise like he'd been punched hard in the gut. Scar forced back tears that stung the corners of his eyes and choked back a sob. It was so hard, so hard, to get up after that. To stand up and continue. When someone who had become such an integral part of his life was suddenly ripped away, it took a long adjusting period. Scar also knew this. But this time, it was so much harder. 

- - -

Over the next several days, Scar occupied himself with anything and everything he could think of. He was so productive, he should have proud of himself. Scar did chore after chore, including some that he'd been putting off for months, like scrubbing the barnacles off The Flying Jellie's sides, cleaning out and organizing his chests, etc.  Anything to keep him from missing, or even thinking about his vanished bird companion. The most helpful were the hard, grueling tasks that required a lot of thought. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about the parrot. Sometimes he even staved off sleeping, forcing his eyes to stay open even as they drooped in exhaustion, just so that he could fall asleep (see: pass out) without lying awake for hours with nothing to do but think. Sleep was the only mercy, but as soon as he woke, the loneliness set in again. It knawed at his bones, chipped away at his sanity, and made itself a gaping hole in his heart to nest.

After about a week, there came a day when the sail hung slack and there was no wind. The Flying Jellie drifted gently along on the currents, while Scar himself mopped the poop deck. It was only because of that that he spotted the dark, heavy clouds gliding ominously his way. Without any wind, they were slow, but from the size of them, Scar knew that he was in for one nightmare of a storm. He briefly worried about how the parrot was doing, if it had gotten caught in the storm, but he caught himself before that thought could continue. Then the wind picked up and Scar hurried to get the ship ready, knowing he didn't have long before the storm arrived.

It was worse than he thought. It rode fast upon the quickening winds, whipping the sea into a frenzy with its fury, and it broke upon The Flying Jellie like a lightning bolt felling a tree. The tiny vessel was thrown about on the raging sea almost effortlessly, and Scar was doing everything in his power just to stay afloat. The timber groaned from the strain and the sails flapped wildly, like birds trying to fly away. It was a storm in the way a great white shark was a fish. It was more hurricane than storm. And Scar, a seasoned pirate, was frightened for his life. In all his years, he'd never come across a storm like this before. The waves pummeled him, the winds battered him, and he was hurled side to side with the mighty swells of the sea. As he blinked rain from his eyes and swept back sopping wet hair, a flash of lightning lit up the rotting, sharp-taloned claw grasping the railing, and Scar's blood ran cold.

- - - 

Anyone who's spent any measure of time on the ocean, sailor or pirate, knows to watch out for the Drowned. Undead, incredibly durable underwater zombies, they match the temper of the sea. On a sunny, calm day, they're little more than seals, basking in the light and ignoring most anything, only getting angry when someone interrupts their sunbathing. But on a stormy day... They get vicious. Angry. Vengeful. Prone to attacking any unfortunate ship that happens across their path, brutally and ceaselessly, until they've doomed it to the depths of the sea. Scar had the bad luck of being right above a horde of Drowned when the storm broke.

- - - 

As soon as he spotted the claw, Scar knew what was bound to happen. In seconds, the Drowned would swarm The Flying Jellie and, after killing everything onboard, they would drag it to the ocean floor, never to be seen again. The only way Scar had a chance of surviving was if he killed them all. It was an impossible task, one pirate against hundreds, but it was the only hope he had, so he wasted no time. Scar drew his sword and slashed at the claw, smiling grimly as it withdrew with an outraged screech. He then whirled to face the other side of his ship and charged, screaming a war cry, into the cluster of Drowned that had clambered aboard while he'd been distracted.

Scar's sword flashed and slashed, gleaming silver in the occasional white flashes of lightning. He hacked and chopped at the seemingly unending masses of Drowned that poured aboard. He was constantly turning around, guarding his own back, and it quickly tired him out. He somehow maneuvered his way onto the prow of The Flying Jellie, the figurehead to his back and the deck to his front. 

From his position on the prow, the Drowned were forced into a bottleneck. They couldn't climb directly into the prow, and it was only wide enough to advance one at a time. Unfortunately, Scar was tiring. He was panting and swaying on his feet, heart pounding and sword trembling in his hands. The horde of monsters just kept advancing, no matter how many he cut down. Scar couldn't hold out for much longer. A Drowned got in a lucky claw swipe to his face before he dispatched it. Scar winced as blood dripped down his face into his eyes, obscuring his vision. 

He fought on, tired, weary, bedraggled, wounded, assuming that the red flashes he saw were blood leaking from his forehead into his eyes. And when he saw the wingspan swoop down, he dismissed it, assuming that he was either daydreaming or hallucinating from blood loss. Hey, it felt like he'd been fighting forever, so why wouldn't he be woozy? But then the red phantom flew high up by the mast and dropped a bag of metal things on top of the heads of the Drowned horde. Lightning flickered and flashed and then struck, and the Drowned screeched in pain as many were obliterated and the rest were burned badly. Scar blinked in surprise, lowering his sword and laughing in disbelief as the sizzling zombies retreated. "What the heck??" He asked between confused giggles. "What was that??" 

He got his answer when the red phantom swooped down once more and alighted on a cannon that had rolled loose from its moorings. Scar blinked, hardly believing his eyes. There, clear as day, sat the very same parrot that had fluttered away seven days hence! It tilted its head and squawked, looking rather sheepish. (Could parrots look sheepish? They were parrots.) Scar blinked again, then grinned. "I don't know how you did that, what you're doing back here, or why you decided to use lightning of all things, but I'm so glad you're back." He exclaimed, hurrying over and bending over to be at eye level with the parrot.

The parrot chirped softly, and Scar felt a surge of fondness for his returned feathered friend. For whatever reason it had come back, it didn't look like it was going anywhere. Scar felt so much better now that it was back. After all, just like a sailor needed his ship, what was a pirate without his parrot?

- - - 

I know it took so long, I'm so sorry T^T

I got super burnt out on these and it was a struggle to write ANYTHING (I guess that's what I get for starting a book to deal with a temporary hyperfixation _:))

I might do more later, because Scar has yet to realize that his companion is no ordinary parrot (very in-character, no?)

But idk, that's all about when inspo strikes, so we'll see!

Vote, comment, follow, but only if you feel like it :D

- Vee 

Word Count: 1528 words

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