Sarpedon

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

Octavius woke up with a groan. The comforting rock of the ship beneath him had the warlord feeling better than he might have, had he been stuck on land. As it was, he was left with a bit of a headache and a vicious hunger. He had no idea how long he had been passed out for, but it was very dark out now. The last thing he could remember was suggesting that they all get incredibly drunk. A look around had him wondering if they had had some kind of contest. He really hoped he had won. Losing to anyone at this point would just ruin his reputation. And the last thing he needed was for Ceres to beat him at a pirate's game. He might as well retire if he couldn't stay on top. Retiring was always painful for a pirate, though. It was the same way with Marines. With that in mind, the pirate commander dragged himself to his feet, and struck off to raid the larder, waiting for his memory to return. He needed to know that he had won, and some food would doubtless help that. It always had before. If nothing else, someone would be awake that had been witness to the whole affair, he was almost certain of that. They could confirm things for him.

Upon his arrival at the pantry, however, Captain Cuttlam found his progress blocked by one of the new crewmen he had picked up. The man looked like he was about ready to defend the ship's stores to the death. "Get out of the way, lad. I'm getting something to eat." he growled, his words slurring only a tiny bit. The man moved quickly when he realized that the warlord was no longer intoxicated. "Did ya see the contest on deck?" he asked, pushing past the sailor to start grabbing up an armful of edibles.

"I did, it was a good one." the sailor replied, he seemed fairly nonplussed about the whole affair however.

"It wasn't that good, though, aye?" Octavius was curious why someone wouldn't be inspired by their captain winning such a contest.

"Well... You, di-didn't win, skip..." the pirate replied, to which the captain started to laugh. But something in the sailor's voice had him turning around, and when he saw the look on the man's face, the warlord just about lost himself in the whirlwind of emotions that overtook him. He didn't know what to do with himself. On the plus side, he felt a lot better, but his physical condition wasn't a concern when he had to deal with the idea of losing. Ceres was the only one who could possibly beat him. He knew that much. His memory was good enough that the hazy details told him he'd been beaten by his first mate. An unacceptable fate if ever there was one. So of course, being a man of rational thought and reasonable reaction, the captain replaced his armload of various edible goods and snatched up two bottles of the strongest liquor on the ship, before seeming to disappear in a swirl of leather, sweat, and ferocity, with a hint of stale beer and defeat.

Of course, his solution to this problem was going to be drinking until he was better than Ceres. Or he wound up dead. He couldn't let such a defeat overcome him. It was just another obstacle in the way of his journey back to the golden age. It wasn't far, he knew, but it was going to take everything he had...

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

I got my Thunderpony!

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

That's probably because I was so tired I couldn't understand questions. XD I can go first unless you want to keep writing. if you haven't done anything after work today, I'll continue!

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

sorry, spent the last three days on exercise, guess I didn't tell you that. surprise! that's the army for you.

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

He's unconscious as fuck, you can keep going if you like.

Tales of Eyreseum - The False King

You aussies have weird games

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

fixed

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

There it is!

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

Octavius, ever the fighter, carried on. The pirate lord was not about to give in to Ceres, not now that victory was in sight. He thought he heard her say something about him not beating her. That was further from the truth than he could ever imagine. How he could ever give in, the warlord had no idea. "Too'th lass! I gabble wit'ye! Fro 'Ell's hard! I sab ye! Fer hade's seg! I spid on ye!" the speech was less effective shouted through a drunken slur, but it gave him the strength to down another tankard's worth of ale and head for another without pause. Having no idea what number he was on now, the man figured he would just keep drinking until his opponent gave in, then he'd head to bed. Victory! the word screamed through his head. It was that, or death, he figured. Unfortunately for him, he was far too right, in that respect. Captain Cuttlam fought hard, even as his vision swam, and he struggled to keep his feet, fighting to stay conscious enough to keep drinking. Every second was a fight, but it was a fight he could win, if his opponent would only surrender. Except that she wasn't about to do such a thing. So even as he moved toward the keg, things started to go wrong. The ship rocked just the right way, and the Shotgun Preacher lurched past the keg. His unsteady gait, and intoxicated state, had him thinking the whole world was moving, and he wound up propelling himself off the side of the ship as he attempted to regain his balance.

The only thing that kept him alive was the rope that someone had carelessly tossed over the edge. Both ends were secure, and the loop in the middle was enough to catch his ankle, and arrest the man's fall from grace. Disappointment, and the sudden, violent motion, followed by an equally confrontational halt had the captain puking up his guts into the drink. He felt a lot better immediately afterward, and used the opportunity to fumble for his knife. He didn't want to abide by this ignominy, and as the blood rushed to his head, and the alcohol overcame him, he fought to keep just conscious enough to get the blade through the rope. He had no such luck, however, and quickly lost consciousness, hoping the sway of the ship might knock him loose and spare him the embarrassment of losing such an important contest...

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

I think it's your fault. I'mma blame you at least...