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Jack Be Nimble

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack jump over the candle stick

He be nimble, and his fingers flutter and his feet scrapple over rocks and overturned pots and pans, and he twists and he turns and he fits through the loopholes no one knew were there, and you can still see his hands floating through the air.

He be quick, and he speaks in tongues and twists his words around in ways no one but he can decipher and he leaves you so confused the only way you know he's gone is the gust of wind and echoing laughter that you know you'll never catch.

And he jumps over the candle stick, and it doesn't matter how tall it is because he flies through the air quicker than the speed of light and nimble as nimble can be. And as he passes through, he leaves pieces of himself just like the dripping candle wax does.

He gives you souvenirs because no one knows him, but he'll be damned if they forget him.

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky.

When she was a little girl, she dreamt of adventures she'd go on when she was older. Her father fed her fantasies with his chuckles and his smiles and the books he gave her. She read and she read and the life she led was that of pirates, and mistresses, and explorers.

When she was older she continued to read, though the reason changed. She had dresses to fit into, and ways to walk, and words to learn. She had to act proper, and speak proper, and be the good little Governor's daughter she was born to be. Only she wasn't.

From morning to night she read, and she dreamed, and she thought to herself: Someday. Someday she'll explore, she'll discover. Someday that'll be her they write about, she'll be the glorious maiden that every handsome rogue prince wanted to marry.

And when she finally does have her adventure, she'll realize why it's called fiction.

Simple Simon

Simple Simon met a pieman going to the fair.
Says Simple Simon to the pieman "Let me taste your ware!"
Says the pieman to Simple Simon "Show me first your penny."
Says Simple Simon to the pieman "Indeed I have not any!"

He had manners and he was very courteous, but he was still that poor Turner boy the blacksmith took pity on. He worked the forge, and he did good work, but no one cared to notice because the swords said Brown, and that's not his name.

He learned to read from Miss Swann, and he learned to love by her too. Afternoons they'd spend together under trees and canopies of leaves, and read of adventures he didn't have any interest in. It taught him words he didn't know, though, so he kept on.

He tries to not let it get to him that his pants don't fit anymore, and rise a little too high. He tries to not feel the blush creep up his cheeks when he sees the women of town wrinkle their noses at him as he passes. He tries, but he fails, because he's got pride but very little confidence.

He'll learn to have it though, and that's when he'll see they're the ones to actually be pitied.

Baa, Baa Black Sheep

Baa, baa black sheep Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir. Three bags full.
One for the master and one for the dame.
And one for the little boy who lives down the lane.

A noble man, in a noble post, with a noble stature, and a noble brow. The Commodore is noble, and he is strict, and he is proper, and he is right. He does his duty, and he does it well, and no one will do it better. No one would do a better job, because it's not possible to.

He serves the Governor in his duties, and he does it with a smile, and he does it with aplomb. He fetches Elizabeth her heart's desires when her father is too busy to do it himself, and he does it without complaint. He serves Britain with a sense of pride, and he loves her dearly.

And at night he goes home to sparse quarters because he has need for very little. It's him and him alone, and it has been for quite some time now. He has his eyes on Miss Swann though, and it's comforting to know that at least one of his tasks is something he'll enjoy as well.

In the end though, his heart belongs to Elizabeth but her heart belongs to young Mr. Turner.

Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the King's men
couldn't put Humpty together again!

Pirate is as pirate does, and he was a pirate. He plundered and thieved and he did it well and with little conscience. He had few lovers and even fewer friends, and the only true one he ever had he wound up betraying because he was only one man and they were many.

And the guilt welled in his belly, because he was still a man underneath it all, and it consumed him from feet to gills. He took the accursed coin that started and ended it all and he sent it off to a son he'd never know because they deserved it, especially himself.

They sent him to the bottom of the ocean and down there he lived, despite the bone crushing pressure and the hungry sharks and sea urchins, because that was the nature of the coin. He didn't breath, and he didn't swallow, but he thought and it drove him over the edge of sanity.

But one day the curse ended without warning, and blessedly, finally, he stopped thinking.

Mary Had a Little Lamb

Mary had a little lamb.
It's fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went
the lamb was sure to go.

He wasn't a bad man, not really. Not an awful human being, so far as awful human beings go. He was greedy sure, but the job called for it. A pirate doesn't become feared by being gregarious. He takes what he wants and he gives nothing back, and that's that.

He didn't fake his friendship with Jack, that had been real. It hadn't been the loyal friendship he knew Jack thought it was, but it had been a friendship. A mutual understanding. A melding of common goals. And when the opportune moment arose, he took it with gusto.

He watched with something almost like regret, but not quite, as he jumped off the plank and into the ocean. He wondered for a while if Jack died quickly or slowly, but he didn't let himself dwell. At night though, he'd see those gold teeth and hear that low growl and he'd toss and turn.

Jack never truly left, his spirit was always there to remind him that he wasn't a good man either.

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