Second Jump: Pirates of the Caribbean

Pirates of the Caribbean Jump (Jump 2)

1000cp + 200 from Drawbacks

Starting Location: The Isle De Muerta

Identity: Drop-In (Free) Age 22 (Paid for it.)

Abilities: Curse Like A Sailor (50cpD) Your vocabulary of curse words increases a hundredfold. You can curse a man for days and never repeat yourself. The language you use is inventive, descriptive, and often truly blistering, but it need not even be actual curses; you can speak so eloquently of your hate that you can curse a man by complimenting him.

Swordsman (100cp)You’re an excellent swordfighter. You were born with a cutlass in your hand (Or between your teeth). You can hold off a dozen Royal Marines, and you’re not averse to using dirty tricks to get ahead. While there are swordsmen better than you, you’ve yet to meet one. 

Sharpshooter (100cp) The inherent inaccuracy of unrifled weapons doesn’t affect you. You can hit a pinpoint target with a flintlock pistol from ten feet away, and hitting people on distant ships with a musket shot has more than a chance of success. Further, you’ve got the drill down cold; five shots a minute in any weather, and the roar of cannon no longer deafens you due to long practice.

Cuttlefish Style (100cp) You are a master of that most noble of pirate traditions. You know how to fight... to run away. The instant you create a distraction, you’re 40 feet away and moving fast. You are a master escape artist, and can use distractions in combat to escape even situations that appear inextricable. Any ship or other vehicle you captain also... somehow... has its speed increased when you’re trying to escape a fight.

Courage and Fortitude (200cp) Bravery and honor are your meat and drink. You’ll never quail despite frights that would darken the souls of a lesser man, holding strong to your bonds of brotherhood despite certain death. You do not fear death, you can stand and look it in the eye even as the cannonball flies. Unfortunately, standing fast is not always the best strategy....

Fancy Footwork (200cp) You’re always steady on your feet. Forget balancing on a swaying ship; you can hold your balance while swordfighting on the yardarm of a ship surfing the crest of a tidal wave. While it’s snowing. Also, you’ve good enough with trajectories to swing dramatically anywhere you want on the ropes that are always scattered around a ship.

Inventory: Nice Hat (50cp), Jar of Dirt (100cp), Bottle of Rum (100cp), Nice Sword (100cp)

Drawbacks: Missing Some Bits (100cp), Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner (100cp)

Second Jump: Well… I guess it’s not too- Why am I on THIS island!?

            “There be a few things off in the fucking sea… Uh… Nothing is right with the world, such as the fall of Barbados and… ugh…” Those were the words that escaped my mouth, my lips practically saturated in the rum that brought a subtle burning sensation and kept me from becoming too dehydrated… Though, that would not excuse my inability to not talk to the crab that happened to be sitting on the lid of this odd jar of dirt that I had happened to obtain this time around. The crab was barely larger than the palm of my newly-modified hand with a pale-red shell and a damaged claw.

            That was unimportant, however… What was important was the fact that I was stuck on the Island of the Dead and, from the jar of dirt that I happened to possess, I was probably in the Pirates of the Caribbean universe for whatever possible reason. At least I had my seemingly infinite bottle of rum… and scotch… and whiskey… Really, it didn’t seem to end and could change on a dime. Bad news was, I was apparently missing an eye and couldn’t speak in any comprehensible manner. Even I couldn’t understand what I was saying, but at least the crab didn’t mind.
            That was until the crab suddenly hopped off of the lid of my bottomless jar of dirt and skittered off into the water, the footfalls of what could only be pirates hitting the sand and their voices echoing off the rocks. Knowing that, well… As a small island that might be swallowed up at any given moment, I simply stood up off of the rock that I had been sitting on and picked up my jar of dirt. With my jar in one hand, my bottle of rum in the other, and my sword stowed away in said jar of dirt, I simply waited for them to approach.
            When they finally arrived, they all drew their swords as a man stood up… A man with a monkey on his shoulder. I tipped my hat to him with a grin. “Barbossa, the dead man who does not know Davy Jones’ locker.” I said him as best as I could to show that I knew who he was. All I got in return was a screech from his monkey and him yelling for them to kill me.

            Thinking quickly, I suddenly pointed out in the distance and called out “Fuckin’ Jack Sparrow’s got da’ last piece! He’s over by the swells of the waves!” to get their attention and, even though they looked away for only a second, I was already gone and a good forty feet away from them with my fine hat floating down to the sand where I previously stood before they realized I had lied to them. Can’t even believe they fell for my gibberish.

            I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my feet kicking up sand and water with each movement as I tried to outpace those sea dogs who were now chasing me down. Luckily, for some odd reason, (Because of the GoW jump) there were random boulders that I leaped over every now and then to avoid gunfire.
            Eventually, I would come upon a random boat that they had left behind and, without thinking about it, I grabbed the boat and pushed it into the water. As they ran up, I leaped inside and, with a resounding tone of cheer and pride in my voice, I held up my jar of dirt and yelled out “I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt! I got a jar of dirt!” as a distraction, giving me just enough time to drift far enough away in my boat to avoid those that pursued me. They had a rather shocked look on their face, almost as if they had saw that exact action before by someone else… Similar to PTSD… Oh, wait… Sparrow did the exact same thing a while back or a bit later. Either way, it did not matter.
            After that, my little adventure only got, well… Worse… Honestly, that is about it. I ended up stranded on an island and had to live there for a good nine and a half years before my jump had ended and, all the while that I was there, that dang crab from before followed me around… Well, at least I got my bottle of rum and a jar of dirt.