Post by The Dread Pirate - Blackbeard on Nov 12, 2017 15:53:49 GMT -5
"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest-- Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest-- Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"
Arr mateys! Sit back and let me tell ye a tale...
Arr mateys! Sit back and let me tell ye a tale...
Bugger.
The word that summed everything up nicely. If my life was a word then that would be it. It would definitely be my favourite word if I was asked to pick one. Not that anyone would ever ask me to. But if they did then I would know what to say. With that decision firmly decided upon and planted in my mind for future reference I turned my attention back to the reason that I had first used the word. Well not first used it. I'd used it before that moment, but now I had a new reason to use it. My ship was leaking.
Now, in my experience, there is never a good time to have a leaking ship. Maybe that's not strictly true it's useful if it's someone else's ship that sinking, but when it's your own ship it's not so good. Actually it wasn't technically my own ship, but why linger over the insignificant details? It was the ship I was on and that is the point. It had been a good day until my ship, or rather; the ship had started to leak. I glanced up at Port La Jolla one last time, felt myself fill with hate and looked back down again. It was a problem that had to be fixed if I were to reach the hateful little place.
I jumped down from the mast to bail it out. Water sprang up around my boots as I splashed down. Bugger, now I had wet feet. I scrambled around for a bucket and scooped some of it out. I watched it slosh over the side to join its other watery friends. I glanced up for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to stop me in my tracks. The rotting corpses grinned back at me from where they hung, swinging in the wind with broken necks.
It was not an unusual sight. In fact it was getting to be all too common. I stood up and took off my hat, nodding my respects to them. A fourth noose swung empty with a sign dangling down from it. I squinted at it. "Pirates, ye be warned." Was it meant to scare me off? Was I meant to believe that fourth noose was waiting for me? Did that git Zakari Phoenix think he could catch me? Well think again mate, unlike those poor bastards you've got hanging there, I'm not stupid enough to get caught. I plopped my hat back on my head and grinned. I love my hat. It's the best thing in the world… apart from rum and wenches. Rum's good, wenches are better.
The ship was a lost cause. Even I could see that. Good job there were plenty of ships where I was headed. None of them were mine of course, but that hadn't stopped me in the past. One day I'd have my own ship. Hopefully soon. I sighed and climbed back onto the mast. I stood up straight and with pride as if nothing at all was wrong with ship. The goons of Port La Jolla stopped what they were doing and stared at me. Can't say I blame them. It was either because the ship I was standing on was partially submerged below the waves or because of my infinite good looks and charm and of course my infamous reputation.
I unwound the small boat to the side and stepped inside. As I untied the rope, I wondered if other captain's had this kind of trouble. The boat splashed into the water as the rest of my ship sank straight into the harbor. I knew that I'd have to earn more doubloons to buy myself another boat, and that's what I'll be doing. It's time I faced off against that salty, scallywag Zakari Phoenix in a bout of fisticuffs, one that my mates would be talking about for ages. They might even sing songs about our fight, I just hope I'm good at writin' lyrics.
"You there!"
Bugger.
I spun around on my heels to face him. I dazzled him with my most charming smile, but if I'm honest he didn't look all that dazzled… or charmed. How odd, it usually worked on Kelly Fury, the Jungle Girl Joanna, Zoe, and those other wenches. Maybe it was because they were of the female variety. I approached the harbormaster. He frowned at me disapprovingly. Pirate prejudice was something I'd have to get used to in this snobby town of East La Jolla, California. Still, as long as he didn't see my pirate brand then he couldn't prove anything. I walked back over to him, back the way I'd just come still smiling, but his disapproving look didn't shift. "It's twenty dollars to tie up your boat at the docks." I raised my eyebrows at him and then at the boat and shrugged. He ignored my look, "and I shall need to know your name."
He looked down at the book he held open, poised and ready to write down whatever name I was to give him. As if I would! That would get me arrested for sure. I rummaged about in my pocket my fingers felt the cool of three coins. I pulled them out and slid them onto the open pages of his book. "What do you say to three shillings and we forget the name?" I suggested. He blinked at the money and looked up at me as if he had completely misjudged me- which he had. He snapped his book closed on the coins in case I decided to suddenly snatch them back.
"Welcome to Port La Jolla, Mr. Smith," he said brightly. I nodded my thanks. Stupid blighter. And Smith? Not exactly very original now, was it? I didn't care, I was here to find information about Mister Phoenix and what advantages I could gain in our battle of brawn.
People like me aren't exactly welcome in Port La Jolla. We are very far from welcome, but that's fine. We don't want to go anywhere as rubbish as this anyway. Not usually, but needs must and that's why I was there. Because I needed to be, and whether or not I win, I need the coins to buy a new ship. I planned on being as quick as humanly possible. The looks I got from people as I wandered down their streets really summed up the way I felt about them and their stupid little town.
I gritted my teeth and reminded myself that I would be out of here soon enough. The place even smelt funny. Not half as good as the Solomon Islands. Now that was a place worth visiting. It was alive and exciting, not like this dull, sleepy Port full of empty people and their empty lives. It was more of a prison than anywhere you would want to live and yet people imprisoned themselves here by choice and sneered at people like me who chose freedom over everything else. I hate the way they dress, with pantaloons that have pleats, their hair is short and, ugh, combed neatly over or in a ‘man bun’ whatever that is. The worst part, they wear sundials on their wrist to tell the time. What sort of fools lived here in the state of California?
It's no wonder that Zakari Phoenix enjoys his time here, drinking the substance they call beer. Give me a strong ale any day over their Miller Genuine Draft. Zakari Phoenix is going to be a tough one for me, and I've had my fair share of scrapes and fights. One time, I fought an old boy who fancied himself as a town's undertaker, and I gave him a sound thrashing. Mayhap I should do the same with this Zakari Phoenix bloke. He has been on the wrong side of the dock his entire life, and I hear from the pubs that he even sprays on what they call cologne, which is nothing more than a female perfume for men. Do you see what I am going to deal with? A feminine smelling beast who looks even dumber than he sounds. I don't know about you, but I plan on using my wits to win my fight, and I hope he doesn't even think about touching Parley the Parrot, or I'll send him into a pit he'll never climb out of.
But as I stood there, I realized that there weren't that many people around, so I could walk a bit more openly than if I had been there on a more normal day. Those that were around were the sorts that give me a look as if I smelt as bad as they did, but let me walk on. A few pointed, laughed, and commented under their breaths about my attire, my eye patch, and the parrot on my shoulder. The man who would yell and demand I battle him was up at the Arena of RIMAC. I shouldn't expect anything else out of a place that Zakari Phoenix would frequent.
But he was the reason I had chosen today as my day to gatecrash the hellish town. This was, however, good for me because it meant that all of the other brawlers in the so-called West Coast at Port La Jolla would see it, and marvel in my might, and revel in my appearance. I grinned at my own intelligence. I really was a genius. I've never met anyone like me. I'm Blackbeard the Pirate, captain of my own fate, master of my destiny, and the man who is going to beat Zakari Phoenix with my wits, not my fists.
"The backstage area is off-limits to fans, especially ones dressed like a pirate." One of two black-shirted security buffoons said with a chuckle, as he stepped between me and the Arena door I was aiming for. It wiped the grin at my own perfection off my lips. Complications I hadn't been expecting had arrived. Maybe Zakari Phoenix wasn't as stupid as I thought. He'll regret sending these fools to block my path, I'll see to it that at the show of wrestling, I will be the one smiling, not he.
Bugger.