Pirate Anon #1 (edited)

>You are the Dread Pirate Captain Anonymous
>You've spent the last 5 years of your life terrorizing the Spanish Main
>and it's been the best (and sometimes worse) time of your life
>you have tons of cash
>all the wenches you could bed
>you were constantly wasted on the best rum money could buy
>and you had a crew made up of the finest murderers and bastards you could dreg up from the colonies
>or at least you did...
>well you didn't get to were you were without making a few compromises
>like selling your soul to Kalypso for near invincibility
>you then spent your remaining days as a captain laughing at those who would try to slay you
>you'd heal right before your eyes, that normally left the poor scallywag speechless
>and then you'd puncture their chest with your cutlass
>but it's not like all that stuff was free
>ya see you're an impeccable pirate but you were never one for the fine print
>seems you didn't notice the clause about it being for 4 years and then she'd collect
>still it was a pretty sweet ride up until now

>so here you stood on the deck of your sinking ship
>which by the way was the only possession that meant anything to you
>and about fifty or so tentacles are bursting out of the deck and are getting a might grabby
>why do you feel like a Japanese maiden right now...
>fuck that shit, that thought ain't very piratey anyway
>well it's also apparent, by the amount of corpses on your deck that your whole damn crew is having a drink with ol' Davy Jones right now
>The sea goddess herself appears above the mass of tentacles that have just ruined an otherwise nice day
>"well captain, are you ready to pay the price for your fortune" she cackles devilishly
>Damn it though you were a pirate
>#1 rule of being a pirate: don't pay for jack shit
>no wait, rule 1 is: don't get too drunk and sleep with a manatee
>okay rule #2 whatever you were far too drunk and angry too care right now
"I won't be payin' ye a damn shilling fer yer dastardly deal"
>you toss an "yarr" on the end to show a bitch you aren't fucking around
>she looks at you and smirks, that same damn smirk she made when you signed that stupid contract
>So you weren't one for reading people either, what of it?
>Kalypso raises her arms high in the air and a wall of sea water surrounds your floundering ship
>well shit, at least you can hang with the mateys in hell
>actually fuck that noise
>no hell for you no way no how, you were a pirate, you could get outta this
>you got outta worse jams than this
>okay maybe not WORSE jams but some pretty bad ones
>you just need to use some ingenuity
>you raise your fists to the sky in defiance and call on a man that you never really cared for the teachings of in life
"Jesus Christ, God almighty, Buddha Muhammad any of ye gods of hell an' heaven, HEEEEEEELLLLLLLPPPPP MEEEEEEEEE!!!"
>no one must ever know of your pathetic desperate call for aid
>that would ruin your sea cred

>Kalypso just looks on with her face twisted up in contempt
>"did you think anyone would listen to that cry you pitiful fool" she mocks you
>nobody mocks Cap'n Anon, not some British officer, not some French noble, and certainly not this conniving bitch
>you raise your cutlass and prepare for a death composed of hacking and slashing with your back to the wall
>mom warned you this would happen buuuuut noooo,"I wanna see the land mum" you said
>god damnit
>well the nasty fish monsters almost reached you anyway
>then everything got really dark and really yet somehow really bright at the same time
>and your brain ceases to comprehend the material world for a while
>damn, you like the material world. all your loot's there
>oh well, just look at it like the time you and the mates got that yopo from that native shaman
>that dude was great at parties
>well even though you can't see, you can hear pretty well for a life of loud ass cannon fire and cleaning your ears with a nail-file
>but you do hear three things
>one a loud female voice, a louder female voice
>and Kalypso, now the part that sets your jimmies on fire like a cheap French mast was...
>Kalypso was screamin' like she just got a crab clamped to her nipple
>And you'd know, that sound came outta you once, what a terrible Christmas party
>after these final thoughts your brain decides, that the amount of water entering your lungs is sufficient to merit a shutdown
>finally the sea's embrace overtakes you and you pass out

>systems initializing
>booting Anon OS: Angry Drunken Seafaring Hooligan 1.77
>running subconsciousness.exe
>subconscious prime directive: Aquire Swag
>Running consciousness.exe

>okay, and we are back
>hello brain, what'd I miss
>we died Cap'n
>thank ye my good man, I'll take that fact into consideration
>you can feel grass and sun, well you didn't expect that
>you open your eyes... okay eye and look at your surroundings
>your seated in some kind of forest
>but DEAR GOD IT"S SO COLOURFUL ARRRRGH!
>your Piratey eye burns in response to your un Piratey environment
>once you recover you stand up and look around
>well, this is definitely a forest
>and you are terribly lost
>there was a reason you hired a navigator
>as you mull over your predicament your solo peeper notices something
>it's a good thing that royal marine poked out your bad eye with that fork and not this one
>sticking out of the ground is your ship's wheel
>if that's here maybe the rest of your ship is too
>and ye can keep yer plunder
>ye guess today is lookin' up
>you walk for a bit, following the detritus that came from your ship
>and then you stumble upon it
>it's just sitting there in the middle of a clearing
>and it's mostly intact, so hopefully your shit's still there and not broken
>only one way to find out
>you clamber in to your cargo hold through a man sized hole in the hull
>thats gonna cost a good bit of gold to fix

>you stumble around in the dark for a while
>all the lanterns are out, at least they didn't set off the copious amount of gunpowder you keep on hand
>you climb up onto the deck and head for your private quarters
>you swing the ornate door open and walk casually over to your big ass treasure chest
>why a big ass chest, well ye can't quite call yerself a proper pirate without one can ya
>of course you only get about half way there before a heavy wooden thing collides with the back of your head
>you're about to bisect the filthy lubber who bonked you when a familiar voice rings out from behind you
>"sorry bout dat cap'n I thought ye was a common thief"
>you turn to see your most trusted crewman standing behind you brandishing his blunderbuss
"well thar be no harm in keepin' the loot safe Peg, but look who yer wallopin' next time ya hear me"
>"got it cap'n, gotta check'em before ye start in on the bashin'"
>Peg was a good man, he's been with you since you started your sordid career in privateering serving as your quartermaster
>and it was good to know he wouldn't run out on you now
"Now Mr. Peg we need to get about findin' our bearin's, do ya have any idea where the hell we are?"
>not a damn clue cap, but we gotta be 'round the north. woods like dis don't grow on the main"
>well shit, this meant you were near the coast of the American colonies, your countrymen weren't liable  to give you a friendly greeting
"alright, Mr. Peg, gather up as much booty as ye can an' meet me outside when yer done
>he nods and walks to your big ass chest
>you however have something else in mind
>you approach the ornate weapon rack that holds your medley of hacking and shooting instruments and grab your favorite cutlass and pistol
>it's a good thing Kalypso caught ye on a Thursday or ye'd of lost this one

>after much arguing over what was important enough to take and what wasn't you two are finally ready to set off and look for a safe haven for men of your stature
>so ye were looking fer tha' local whorehouse
>but that required finding a road or some other trail
>"which way should we go cap'n" Peg says as he looks off into the imposing woodland
"arrr... errr... that way Mr.Peg we go thata'way"
>you say as you pick a random direction, your compass was gone so this was the best you could do
>so you set off with your matey hoping your closer to a town than you thought you were
>it seemed like you were in the middle of nowhere
and on top of that, for all you knew you were going in the wrong direction
>so after about an hour of stumbling through the woods you stop to take a rest, you may be a pirate but walkin's not your thing
>you lean against a tree and peg lays down on a flat rock, all this bullshit has made you very sleepy