to die would be an awfully big adventure

ind & sel. meta-based. cherished by sparrow. Was lcrdsparrow.

[xtrickster]

❝ Me? I’m dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they’re going to do something incredibly… stupid. ❞

[kpfun]

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (2011) dir. Rob Marshall

[meg-ikarp]

a pirate’s life for me

[xtrickster]

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​

[resourcesfortheavergaeroleplayer]

Send "be honest" followed by a question and my muse will be forced to answer with 100% honesty

[xtrickster]

"If I wanted to buy your hat." Emil nodded toward it, leaning over and planting both elbows on a table. "How much would it cost me?"

As he took great pride in his magnificent hat, Jack basked in the compliment which was implied behind her offer. Were it not so fashionable an accessory, the woman would not be interested in acquiring it for herself. Women in general possessed good taste — except for those who rejected his most charming advances, in which case they would normally scrunch up their noses and make false allegations about his bodily odour, defined through unsympathetic adjectives. It was not Jack’s fault if they could not appreciate the musk of sea spray and rum that oozed from his sunburnt skin. Clearly, he was too much of a man for their tastes or lack thereof.

But this girl here — she was a girl, was she not? Jack could not help but wonder, eyes shamelessly peering her somewhat flat torso, the thought something, two things, really, was amiss unable to shake off his deviant soul. Girl, boy, what have you, this person here was one of finesse and Jack wanted not to disappoint a potential fan.

❝ Flattered, but my hat is not for sale. ❞ There was no treasure, no sum of money in this world that could make Jack Sparrow part with his trademarked hat. It was dear to him, and Jack did not mind showing just how. 

❝ You need a hat! ❞ He declared with bravado, almost as if he had make it his personal mission to bestow a fitting hat upon the girl’s... Yes, girl’s head. ❝ This girl here needs a hat! ❞ Jack repeated, pointing to her and looking around to no one in particular. ❝ How can you walk around without a hat on your head? Unthinkable. ❞

@postmortemlullabies

[bucketfullofocs]

@xtrickster​ asked:

❝ Hey, it’s that fish-girl! Mermaid! Haven’t seen you since last I saw you. What news from the Indian? ❞

A City Of Gold

It had been some months since she had last seen the Sparrow, and at first she thought he had died. But no, a presence like his? She would have heard of his passing, if not through her sisters then through the mortal men she watched. While her time promised to him had come and gone - in the grand scheme of things, six months was not so long a time. But still she watched the East India, partly for him, but partly for her sisters.

The men there were not kind. They would use and abuse any advantage they got, and at least one she knew was searching for one of her sisters. So when she saw a familiar man on a beach, seemingly all alone, she swam and beached herself, making her presence known as she sat partly on land, mostly in the sea.

His words made her laugh, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Fish-girl?” She was no girl, but the words amused her all the same. How long, exactly, had it been since she had last seen him? Many months, at least. “I bring news - letters.” Her English has improved over the months, but still she preferred to keep things short, simple.

A bag was tied around her waist, which she carefully undid and pulled from it another bag - wax coated and sealed. “Your Beckett likes to keep windows open.” It was easy to jump and cling to a ship in the night with windows open. “They search for something to the South. A city of gold. Some think it in a jungle; others think it sunk.” She explains, offering the bundle of letters and maps to him.

Why humans had such a fascination with the treasures of other places she did not know. All she knew this would be useful to the Sparrow. “He moves South as well, away from here.” There must have been something credible in his information to make the man sail away from his hunt for pirates, surely.

[xtrickster]

❝ A city of gold, you say? ❞ Jack's hands would be all over his chin and facial hair, stroking his goatee in bemusement, were they not already busy with studying the envelope. A giggle and an amused 'oh' left his lips at the name of the never-to-be recipient, Lord Huntington, a pathetic fellow Jack had met... how long ago? Good God, the concept of time was so puzzling to him these days. Then again, every day without fault the sun did rise and the sun did set, and this phenomenon was enough to mark a pirate’s passage of time; his life.

With a high-pitched 'oops', Jack broke the seal and unfolded the letter, caring not for unspoken rules of privacy. If the bastard Huntington was still alive in spite of his skeletal appearance pointing to the contrary, and ever in business with the East India Trading Company, his further adventures may be compromised. So, it was a matter of utmost importance, unpreventable, that he must read its contents, for the sake of Jack...’s crew.

The letter spoke of the usual malarkey. Boring things. Things Jack had no use for... Yet. He would find a good use for this intelligence, making it up as he went along. The document was folded and stuffed it underneath his vest, together with the short stack of others.

❝ Are you sure of it, love? You didn’t hear it wrong? Kitty sounds awfully like city to me. Cold sounds like gold. ❞ Fold, hold, sold... Bold. A kitty bold? More likely than you think; cats were insufferable demons covered in fluff. ❝ And so on and so forth, ❞ musing, Jack grabbed Aya by her fleshy shoulders, not too roughly. ❝ And where would this city of mould-- gold... be exactly? ❞ 

His wicked eyes shone with the promise of kindness dwelling deep underneath all the greed. ❝ There are many stories about cities of gold, love, and there’s only so much South the Pearl can traverse...❞ 

Her people ought to know all about cities lost to the tide, golden or not.

[lcrdsparrow-blog]

“ many atrocities have been done in the name of the greater good. ”

☠ loki // a court of mist and fury sentence starters

Jack fell pensive, quiet save for his right hand which fiddled with a golden coin. Though he shared no bond with the man who had spoken, there was a sense of familiarity about his words, for they could have easily been uttered by Gibbs or Barbossa, men Jack did know well. It sounded just like the kind of greasy argument the sanctimonious twat would love to say in support of his devious endeavours. Or something Jack’s first mate would say with a heavy heart.

At length, the captain considered the thought. The concept of ‘the greater good’ many talked about felt difficult for him to grasp, what with Jack being more used to taking things for his own benefit, admittedly in an errant, selfish way that tried not to take sides unless in case of need.

Jack folded his fingers over the coin, encasing it completely in his hand for a moment before taking a glance at his bare forearm and meeting with the P brand he’d carry to his grave should mortality catch up with his steps. Beckett would have a lot to say about ‘the greater good’, would he not? How many ‘atrocities’ had the East India Trading Co. done in the name of ‘the greater good’ of the Empire?

Not much different, perhaps, than what the discoverer of this coin and his men had done in their pursuits for glory and gold, one empire razed for the good of another. There were as many ‘greater goods’ in this world as there were realms, Jack reckoned, all of them boiling and brewing before the impending clash they drew themselves to.

Welcome to the modern world.

In truth, Jack could do more than take an educated guess at global politics but he did not care to be all that knowledgeable. The fact people did not expect him to, either, only helped him keep his brilliant streak well concealed, allowing more space for the immediate and finite pleasures life had to offer. That was what mattered most.

❝ Wouldn’t know a thing about that, mate, I’m only a pirate. An educated bloke such as yourself should know morals don’t concern us bad eggs. ❞ 

@silvertonguedeity

[lcrdsparrow-blog]

"You're nothing but a trickster jerk! I thought you were a legend!"

☠ chopper

Now, Jack did not appreciate having an odd-looking racoon, dog, mammal question the nearly mythological reputation he prized so much and laboured to maintain through hyperbolic tales, and in so harsh a manner to boot. What had poor old uncle Jack done to it, for it to get so worked up?

He would have remembered it had he crossed paths with the animal before. How many talking animals did one meet anyway, even on the Grand Line? As he did not, there was no chance Jack could have subjected the child-sized thing to any of his machinations, regardless of how profuse they were.

Yet it spoke with knowledge, as though a personal victim of the aforementioned schemes!

The accusation did not prove insulting. As far as he was concerned, “trickster” (albeit followed by “jerk”) was an adjective to be proud of, a title Jack himself instigated by dropping it in conversation whenever planting the seeds of his own legend here and there, in every island he stepped on. Captain Jack Sparrow, the ultimate Trickster of the Seas!

It was the putting of his fame (or infamy) at stake that offended the pirate.

❝ This contradiction in terms you’re hinting at? I don’t see it. ❞ Jack said, not without a small share of mockery in his mannerisms, though those ever-moving hands had little to do with scorn and a lot more with flamboyance and drinking issues ❝ I am a bad egg, guilty as charged. ❞ 

His countenance turned proud, eyes narrowed to gaze intensely into the tanuki’s eyes. ❝ All part of survival, mate. That’s part of the legend. ❞

@chopperpirate

[wadey-wilson]

[tordenvejr]

tragic that someone this sexy has to go through this much

[xtrickster]

/ hc. on occasion, jack will produce a guitar to play (and sing) spanish and french ballads and random songs he learnt here and there. he is a bit of a composer, too, having constructed a piece by him called ‘the ballad of the legendary captain ja.ck spar.row’. what, you expected subtlety?

[harvxyspecter-blog]

Please reblog if you play a character who is 30 years of age or older

I don’t care if it’s an OC or a canon character, and while I play a human, I don’t care if your fandom isn’t but for the love of god, why is everyone in their twenties? Give me some mid thirties or even some fourties. Hell, throw me some silver foxes. Please.

[drogonstone]

[rhymewithrachel]

he’s a pirate

[horsesaround]

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End (2007)

[celephant-blog]

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