[@hatakekuro][@samreaper][@Jageroux][@FellbloodFool][@Infichi][@Classpet]

[i]After the ship as sailed[/i]

He was sitting against one of the railings, looking at his...crew mates...Just about the most ragtag group of people, ever. He knew he was going to be one of, if not, the best fighter on the ship. He tugged at his holster for his pistols, not thinking about anything in particular. Peering up at the helm, he saw the stretchy man who insulted his height earlier. He was smoking a cigarette. So tasteless. Surely the man has to have more taste than to settle for cheap, possibly homemade, cigarettes. Not being able to stand it anymore, he got up and approached the man, reaching into his pocket...

[color=0072bc]"Aye, fuck boy, try this."[/color] He said, as he tossed him a small pouch of herbs. "[color=0072bc]They would be best smoked out of a wood pipe, but seeing as you have no taste, rolling papers would do for now, I guess..."[/color] He said to him. Looking down at the deck, he spoke a bit louder as he adjusted the sunglasses on his forehead [color=0072bc]"My name is Weston Smith. I'm good with guns and other weapons and thus I'm probably the best fighter here. Anyone has a problem, we can handle it right here and now."[/color] He exclaimed, a sense of arrogance about him...