Pirate, Extraordinaire // Sequel to Take Off Your Dress, Pick Up A Sword

a change of plans

hello! ainsley here. before you read, please check out the absolutely INSANE artwork @Rosebud1208 made of joanna! it's cotbp joanna (left) vs dmc joanna (right). it's so close to my vision of joanna that i'm almost convinced rosebud peeked inside my brain before drawing it (she even got how joanna's nose turns up! and look at the little reference to gulliver's travels, the book joanna gives jack in cotbp! look at the way the sword turns from wood to metal! and the needle and thread into black pearls!) THANK YOU again for the time and effort put into this art, rosebud. it gives me so much serotonin.  

also, today is my birthday! as a present, maybe you all could leave a comment and/or a vote? :) 

brief disclaimer: i'm not a doctor nor a palm reader. 

read on! have a great day. <3

There was a flurry of sound, punctuated by the thump of Joanna's head hitting the deck.

She stared into the cloudless sky, dazed. It was a pretty morning -- the sky was swathed in pink to the east, bathed in baby blue to the west. Am I dead?

Seven heads popped one-by-one into Joanna's field of vision. Chief among them was Jack, dreadlocks swinging as he hovered over her face. She heard her name, uttered with varying levels of distress. Ragetti's wobbling voice rose above them all, crying, "You killed her!"

"That's the point," Pintel snapped back. More timidly, he asked, "Is she dead?"

"My God," Gibbs said with astonishment.

"It's her ear," Marty exclaimed in realization.

Joanna winced, squeezing her eyes shut, as someone jostled her head. That someone was Jack, guiding her chin gently to the left. "Damn," he said, quiet and appraising.

Joanna opened her eyes and saw one of her earrings, laying beside her head, stained with scarlet. She jerked to touch the right side of her head, but Jack deftly caught her hand. "No, better not," he muttered. Louder, he ordered, "Gibbs, get bandages. And rum. Lotsa that."

"What happened," Joanna demanded, voice rising in pitch. As the adrenaline faded, the pain blossomed, throbbing where her ear should have been. "Jack -- Jack, what did --"

"Shh." Jack shushed her sympathetically. He raised his head to address those nearby. "Oi, back off. Give her space."

Joanna relaxed minutely as the crowd bustled away, but she couldn't seem to stop shaking. "You shot off my ear," she said dumbly. She could feel the blood, now, soaking her shoulder.

"Uh -- yes." Jack peered down at her. In an uncharacteristically tender gesture, he brushed Joanna's mussed bangs from her eyes. "All's fair, luv."

"I did try and kill you," Joanna agreed. She tried for a smile, clenching her teeth around uneven breaths. "I'm bleeding all over your pretty deck."

Jack grinned. "That you are."

...

"Oh," Joanna said a little later, pivoting to catch her reflection in Jack's ostentatious, floor-length mirror. She had dropped the old, rum-soaked shirt she was keeping pressed to her injury, revealing its gory glory. It was stinging incessantly, sending pangs through Joanna's skull.

"Oh," Jack agreed, swaying over her shoulder. He ogled the scraps of cartilage that formerly made up Joanna's left ear. "You're a real pirate now, luv."

The bleeding had, mercifully, slowed; it seemed head wounds truly did bleed exorbitantly, in accordance with hearsay. Joanna felt woozy with blood loss and shock. Perhaps that was why the tears came, slow and soundless down her cheeks.