Send "be honest" followed by a question and my muse will be forced to answer with 100% honesty // Be honest, what do you consider the nicest thing you've ever done for someone other than yourself?
In truth, Jack had done many a good deed. Often did he act on an altruistic impulse — but benelovence being hardly of aid in a pirate’s reputation, Jack chose to conceal his good acts with twice as many dubious ones. He did have plans, contrary to folksy belief, not really entirely fleshed out but still, plans, he would contradict on the spot in the name of helping another godforsaken soul. If asked, though, the gallant scallywag would assure whoever wanted to know that all twists and turns to his ideas were, indeed, part of them.
Jack’s mischievous mind was hard to catch up with, and this was true even for Jack himself. Situations he was a step ahead of, he really was two steps back in his own machinations.
The game they were playing had but one rule, which was to provide a truthful answer. Now, when and if sober, Jack was not a fan of what people deemed the “truth”, which should be more a clergyman or scholar’s concern anyway, not a topic for a pirate to dabble in. He would wave his arms and bid honesty adieu as he went about his clumsy, wicked way, the self-proclaimed dishonest devil. But when drunk off his ass, as was the case, Jack could, maybe, tread a less sinful path and employ sincerity in his words... He was too quenched and hot to trick even his mouth.
At length he snickered the question, hand too quick to connect the half-empty bottle with his lips. Rum trickled down his goatee and shirt, staining it with vile colour and odour, but being already quenched and hot, Jack could not afford getting bothered as well.
❝ Do you really wanna know? ❞ The words were slow and slurred, clearly showing off signs of boredom. He rolled his eyes until they found the tavern’s owner and his tray of drinks, as the former walked among the tables of other anonymous drunkards, and on the shiny bottles of liquid did they focus, mind already at work with something more entertaining to do.
❝ Years ago, ❞ he started, ❝ when I was still a lad, not much older than you... You did say you were of drinking age, right? ❞ The last thing he needed was for some angry mum or dad to storm the place and drag him out by an ear. ❝ I was an employee of the East India Trading Company... Savvy? ❞ If he had to say it, they had better be listening.
Jack’s mouth kept talking as his eyes followed the barman closer to their table.
❝ I was hired to transport a cargo from West Africa to the Bahamas... Slaves. And I... Did not feel like it. ❞ He chortled again, golden teeth shimmering in the dim light.
The barman was close now so with thieving hands, surprisingly sure and swift in spite of their owner’s inebriation, Jack replaced his now empty bottle with a brand new one.
❝ So I didn’t do that. ❞ He popped the cap off. ❝ How many points does that get me? ❞ As he lifted his arm to take a swig of a cheaper brand of rum, the scarred skin on Jack’s arm came into sight as if to testify. This was a drunk’s word and therefore it was true.
@ooc-someidioticurl
be honest meme
