THIRD ANNUAL TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY (Good lord...) Open RP!

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley awoke, not in his comfortable bed inside Club 33, but disoriented and hung over on a bench in front of the castle, an empty bottle of rum still clutched in one hand, mouth fuzzy, and head pounding.

"Ngk."

He brought up the other hand to guard his bleary, uncovered eyes from the glaring sun. It took him a moment to realize that there was a great deal more frilly sleeve around his wrist than there should be. Another second later, Crowley ever so cautiously moved his hand down to again discover a mustache and double braided beard.

"Why is the rum always gone?"

It wasn't what he meant to say.

Comments

[shake-bad-guys.livejournal.com]

"No pirate, I! I despise the brethren and all their dark and treacherous dealings." That was...actually true, even if the pirates Ray had had to deal with had been on the Great Lakes and their treachery had had more to do with dumping industrial waste than swashbuckling. The accent was new, though.

"I'm a king's man, true, as you are yourself."

[perfect-karma.livejournal.com]

"Ah, excellent, then I suppose we shall be working together in order to prosecute the pirate menace. Our primary target is to capture Captain Jack Sparrow or Phoenix Wright and see that they are hung. Your task will be to not be entirely incompetent in securing evidence and locating them."

She smiled. "It will be a pleasure to work with you. I shall call you..." she looked over him for a moment, "Dodgy Underling. And I am your superior, Commander Franziska von Norrington."

[shake-bad-guys.livejournal.com]

Ray's eyebrows shot up. Yeah, sure thing, Frannie. At least, that was what he intended to say. What came out was, "As you will, m'lady."

He gave up. "Where are we headed?"