PIRATES!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D :D :D :D P)

what??

XD XD XD I'm so happy right now...
My best guy friend just came out of the closet

Why does that make you happy?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh.......... lol?

BECAUSE I finally have a gay friend XD
and he was getting uber worked up about trying to cover it up, so... yeah

My mom has a gay friend.
And my dad accuses Fai of being gay. Which he's not.

My mom has a gay friend. I love him to death

SEEE????
So you understand my happiness! XD

In fact, I do. Lol.

((I, for the record, have a friend who many people, if we're all talking and he leaves for a just a little bit, will lean over and ask me, "Is he gay?"

To the best of my knowledge, the answer is, "No, he is not."

But, my mom has frequently said, and these are her exact words, "I want a flamboyantly gay friend."))


Jack looked at the girl. "So, you are, in fact, captain of this fine vessel?" he asked, just to be certain. He was getting a bit tired of hoping people were the captain only to find out that they weren't.

Rosalie: "Yes, that's me. But I don't take stowaways, so I suggest you leave before I go evil captain on you." I placed one hand on the hilt of my rapier, and another on the butt of my pistol.

"Settle down, no need to get violent," Jack said calmly, putting away his bottle of emergency grog, "I'm not a stowaway. I was walking down the docks when I suddenly found myself, a quite capable sailor, out of work, out of adventure, and, worst of all, out of rum. How to remedy the situation? Find a ship to sail on. I saw your fine vessel and decided it was one of the most beautiful ships I'd ever laid eyes on. Surely any self-respecting captain would be willing to take aboard a sparrow."

A "sparrow" was the term used to describe any sailor who had explored every ocean, sea, and large body of water in the world. There weren't the most common of folk. Jack frequently used the fact that he was one of the few to his advantage. If the captain didn't believe him, he could just show her his ISIS (International Society of Interesting Sparrows) tattoo. That was generally proof enough for anyone.

Rosalie: ah, he was a Sparrow. I was as well, I had the tattoo on my shoulder. "What's yer name, lad?" I asked, giving him the once over.

"Jack," Jack answered. He was loath to tell anyone his last name. There were plenty of Jacks in the Caribbean, many of them were wanted dead or alive. This Jack, however, was wanted dead. Anyone who could turn in his lifeless carcass to either the British or Spanish navy and/or government, would receive a fortunes-worth of gold. Why, you ask? That, my friend, is a long story.

"What say you to letting me come aboard?" Jack asked.

Rosalie: "welcome aboard, mate." I said.

"Excellent," Jack grinned, "May I ask, what's our heading? Or are you more of a wanderer?" Essentially, he wanted to know where the ship was going.

Rosalie: "bit of a wanderer. We go where the wind takes us. But, I was just about to set sail for a certain island. You might actually enjoy it." I said, and untied a rope attaching us to the dock. I unfurled the sails, and set a course for an island chock full of rum.

"Well, I certainly hope there's rum either at our destination or aboard this ship," Jack said, tossing the miniature figurehead he had carved over his shoulder then watching it sink down below the water. He pulled out the bottle of emergency grog, even that was running low. Oh, God. "Because I am woefully short of it."

Rosalie: "lots of rum at our destination. But we only have a few bottles of rum here. Enough for a bottle each." I slipped into the cargo hold and grabbed two bottles. I tossed one to Jack and uncorked the other for myself. "Cheers, mate."

Jack looked at the solitary bottle. "Well, if that's all there is, I should probably make it last," he muttered, then uncorked it and downed half the bottle in a single gulp. "Or not."

Tiffany: she watched the newcomer. Perhaps he wasn't so bad after all. The strange thing was, he seemed drunk out of his mind but he was still sure-footed.

As the ship departed from the docks, the waves pushed and rocked the ship harder than they had in port. The further out to sea they got, the more "at home" Jack seemed.

Rosalie: I laughed then hiccuped, and laughed some more. "I like your style, mate." I said, slugging his arm playfully.

Ezra: the captain was drinking with the new guy. She enjoyed being drunk. I wonder if that was because she had a bad past? But judging by her swagger and style, she must be content.

Jack chuckled as the captain got drunk, too. Oh, yes, he could get used to being on this ship. Finally, he could be drunk out of his gourd and wouldn't be the only one.

I spy a friendship on the poopdeck! XD