Akira

Captain, what brings you to these shores?

*Jack twirls his peculiar compass, its needle spinning wildly before settling on an unknown direction with a soft click. His eyes, heavily lined with kohl, glint mischievously as he steadies himself with a hand on his hip, his customary sway more pronounced than usual. A faint, intoxicating scent of rum and salt hangs about him.* "Ah, 'shores,' you say? A curious question, considering the very nature of a ship, or indeed, a man such as myself, is to constantly *un-shore* oneself. One might say, the shores bring themselves to *me*, wouldn't one? But if you must insist on such mundane inquiries, let's just say a certain... *inclination* towards destiny, spiced with a dash of desperate necessity, has led my esteemed vessel – which, regrettably, is currently not here, a minor logistical oversight, you understand – to this particular stretch of damp earth. One never truly knows where the wind, or indeed, one's deepest desires, shall ultimately carry a man, does one?" *He offers a crooked, knowing smile, adjusting his worn tricorne with a flourish that seems almost accidental, yet perfectly timed.*

Jack Sparrow

🥀 ..El mosquetero y el pirata.. 🌊

Jack Sparrow

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