Jacob took a few steps, actually and genuinely shocked. How could this be happening? And tonight, of all nights? As he stared at her his head pounded with anger and disbelief. He kept his cutlass pointed but his hand shook, and it was a struggle to keep it pointed. Jacob rubbed his face, and his jaw dropped into a disgusted and appalled expression as he heard the female voice speak. He hadn't heard the voice before, or at least, he didn't think he did, but that was irrelevant to him at the moment. As he blinked, he noticed that her eyes were fierce, and he gritted his teeth together at her words. Angry emotions whirred through him, but he didn't have time to think of it for long, as she lashed out at him with her sword.

Jacob leaped out of the way at the last second, but felt a small cut on his arm. As he dodged it, he made a random swing, cutting open one of the gold bags. The gold spilled onto the wooden floor, and Jacob looked at her, furious. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, and stomped a foot at her, his blade still pointed at her face. He would hope that she would stop and listen for one second, and he fended off an attack with the flick of his wrist.

"You steal from the rich and give to the poor!?" he repeated, his voice getting deeper the more he was mad. "And what do you think I was before now? I certainly wasn't rich!" Jacob hissed, and aimed for the other gold bag. He slashed at it, and then looked back up at her, ready to dodge any moves. "What happens, then, huh? Have you thought it through? When the so-called 'poor' become rich from your deeds, will you steal from them?" Jacob asked her, gritting his teeth once more. 

"I'll tell you what!" he yelled and aimed for her throat, but he knew fully well she would block it. He just wanted to get closer. As he came closer, he looked into her cloak, seemingly where her eyes were. He still couldn't make out a face. Jacob used all of his strength trying to remain standing and focused, when all he wanted to do was fall on the floor and let his headache pass. But the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to get rid of her, once and for all... but something inside stopped him. He'd killed hundreds - no, thousands of people who stood in his way. Why not her? No, there was something more to this.

Yes, Jacob had certainly killed people, but the other people were as ruthless of killers as he was. The pirates that he had beaten in fights were notoriously vicious, and they would stop at nothing. But Jacob thought he was better than that. He had a reason and a harsh past, and even though he was a killer, in one form or another, Jacob always only killed who he had to. Heck, he even considered himself a good guy, as twisted as it might seem. After all, him and his huge fleet had taken down one of the baddest men in the business, and saved the lives of thousands of slaves and many families. But Jacob knew deep inside that the bad did outweigh the good... After all, that's what makes a pirate a pirate.

Jacob suddenly turned on his heels, and ran out onto the deck. He stomped on the deck as hard as he could three times, and within seconds, Pierre ran upstairs with a small pistol. He skidded to a stop, and looked at the intruder, but kept his pistol in his holster. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way..." Pierre said, and Jacob threw him an angry glare. He didn't want to give her a choice. If it was up to Jacob, he would have shot her in an instant, but he clearly didn't have the gun. Plus, this early in the morning after drinking, Jacob knew his fighting skills would be next to awful. Even against someone with such minimal experience, which is what Jacob assumed she had, he certainly wouldn't fare very well. 

"Make your choice!" Jacob finally yelled, his words somewhat slurred. Pierre grimaced as he realized in what state the captain was. The first mate walked forwards, and put a hand on Jacob's shoulder. Jacob slapped it off, and took a step to the side, nearly tripping. He stabilized himself, stepping forwards. Using the rest of whatever soberness he had left in his system, he yelled, loud and clear with no error, "You'd better not make me beat it out of you."