[center][u][b]Locke Wind[/b][/u][/center]

'Tchik, tchick,' quietly a match lit finally lit up in this dull haze. Alcohol was a horrible thirst quencher in the desert, and much of the mist had evaporated as it passed inland, on the northbound wind. As heat rose, it was easier to light ship's bane again, and the latter idea caused enough stress to a pirate, so his thought process came to relieve himself a minute. Under the chaotic neutral alignment, everything that mattered was the ego, and what that ego laid claim to. Not once did Locke reminisce on the idea that his wrongdoings stole jobs from his neighbors, nor the heartache or hatred that would breed. After a deep inhale, old captain Locke tossed the still-lit match on his pissing pile and watched it burn. He was happy being a bad person, even if he didn't sleep well at night.

The pirate's crude vocabulary debated against the voices in his head, they called out from time to time. "[color=ed1c24]Steal... Life...[/color]" A dark and raspy whisper echoed alone in his skull. "[color=2e3192]Aye, a hostage is in order. But none o' these lassies be dressed anythin' fancy... arrr... maybe... maybe if we doll her up nice, n' pass tha' wench off as a princess... not a betta' idea! Glad I came up wit'it.[/color]" It was strange how he came to conclusions with himself.

The slave wenches were beautiful, except Sa Li. "[color=2e3192]A barrel fer Sally![/color]" The captain jested, before the pirates brought her back in to the ship. Finally, one of the villager ninjas would have infiltrated the pirate's ship, or to an opportunist captain, a drunk was found alive. Informants were useful, and that is why it is good to poke dead bodies with sticks in misty places, sometimes they weren't dead at all! Every time Locke arrives in town, the entire population became intoxicated and inducted in to the pirate way of life. His crew weren't lightweight drinkers, and thus a disadvantage turned upside down due to unorthodox circumstances. On the bright side, gibberish all would be remembered about what really happened on that evening. 
 
It was time to set sail. Landlubbers were frowned upon by the crew's majority, as were the lightweight. Hit and run tactics weren't as honourable as they were effective. "[color=0076a3]At the end of the day, there was booty and lay.[/color]" Said one pirate. "[color=004b80]Aye![/color]" Exclaimed another. Locke was sometimes the last to join his crew's diparture, which was weird yet sanctified by years of attempted mutiny; this time it was for good reason, he happened upon the weirdest of things, a doll shop. He thought about bringing one back for target practice, until one he spotted caught his attention, it looked eerily human-like, and was leering at him. A staring contest began, to which Locke was utterly defeated. As a drinker of whiskey, Locke got angry when he was humiliated around inanimate objects and everything else. Seeing another doll with a long nose was looking as if it was laughing at him set Locke off, enough to merit the unnecessary waste of a grenade. He had hundreds, sure, but sometimes a man needed that many! With a smug smirk, Locke nodded overhead at the puppet that tripped him out, and turned away. While walking, the pirate captain pulled out a small clay bomb from his inner pockets, and licked the trigger hair to the base once. He angled his still lit cigar to the wire's end first, and tossed it over his shoulders while walking. He had seen many explosions before, and didn't care about how nice just one looked, and so he returned to his ship after a swim.

Returning to sea, Locke would have to catch up to his ship now. They cared more about their own interests, and not his. Easily manipulated, but trained for combat nonetheless. Upon return to the ship, Locke recited in his mind how he would order his crew to travel further east along the coastline... even though they were already on that exact same route. Thing is, swimming around while carrying that coffer, was little different than using a coffin as a mini boat.