Captain Johnathan
Swashbuckler
Hello! I highly doubt a single one of you remember me, dont worry though. I didnt make myself exactly... memorable. I basically popped in, left a few paragraphs of writing from my legend days on the high seas of the Caribbean, and disappeared for... (Two years?)
Well, whatever the case i'm back now.
A short little introduction to who I am, or, rather who my "Pirate" was:
Johnathan was a scrawny fella who smuggled to the Caribbean on an English frigate.
Native of Sweden however.
He spent most of his time in social activities, he was a very rich man. Dressed with pride... and deadly with a bayonetted musket. Though he didn't spend all his time in Caribbean rich. He started as a mariner in the spanish fleet. Made his money through honest work.
He fought many wars against the french, as a deadly marksman. and as any good pirate, had a high bounty on his head from the English.
Though he retired from war and decided to settle down on Rumrunners isle for a few years.
He voyaged to a small island out a ways to fish one day.
A french sloop spotted his ship and decided to investigate, and recognized his face as the "Légendaire tireur d'élite."
They apprehended him and brought him to their higher ranking for a trial of somesort.
He was seen smiling through the trial, and seemed to go out of his way to plead guilty. Almost as if he had a death wish. He did. Johnathan had begun to suffer from an early form of "Shellshock" another term used for war induced 'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.'
He would often flash back to seeing his allies killed in horrendous ways, the sounds of bullets whizzing by his head, and the endless screaming. Johnathan did not fear death, as a retired warrior, he was ready to embrace it.
They tied a noose around his neck and readied him for execution.
...But a small voice could be heard arguing with one of the Generals.
Some sort of relative of a high ranking frenchman.
A young woman, who went by the name of Dusty.
Brunette hair, green eyes, soft lips, and mighty fine curves.
Johnathan may have been a grand warrior, but this younger woman caught his eyes and he was swept off his feet... or, rather, it was the floor dropped out from underneath him.
By strange luck, his neck did not break. Some would probably attribute that to his nearly anorexic appearance. The young woman begged for Johnathan to be set free, before dying of suffocation.
John became good friends with the french government over time, and got the riches that came with it.
A friend of the royal family.
He was head over heels in love with dusty. She was compassionate for him, she did not love him in the same way. Whenever she was near, Johnathan's PTSD from his time served in the war, would be absent.
His constant pain and heartache, writhing bitterness, all soothed by a small french maiden.
She disappeared, however. Never to be seen again. But John remained in the Caribbean a few more years, recruited some men, and traveled to the colonies in his older years to search for Dusty. Johnathan was executed by a redcoats pistol, August 12th 1776.
Well, whatever the case i'm back now.
A short little introduction to who I am, or, rather who my "Pirate" was:
Johnathan was a scrawny fella who smuggled to the Caribbean on an English frigate.
Native of Sweden however.
He spent most of his time in social activities, he was a very rich man. Dressed with pride... and deadly with a bayonetted musket. Though he didn't spend all his time in Caribbean rich. He started as a mariner in the spanish fleet. Made his money through honest work.
He fought many wars against the french, as a deadly marksman. and as any good pirate, had a high bounty on his head from the English.
Though he retired from war and decided to settle down on Rumrunners isle for a few years.
He voyaged to a small island out a ways to fish one day.
A french sloop spotted his ship and decided to investigate, and recognized his face as the "Légendaire tireur d'élite."
They apprehended him and brought him to their higher ranking for a trial of somesort.
He was seen smiling through the trial, and seemed to go out of his way to plead guilty. Almost as if he had a death wish. He did. Johnathan had begun to suffer from an early form of "Shellshock" another term used for war induced 'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.'
He would often flash back to seeing his allies killed in horrendous ways, the sounds of bullets whizzing by his head, and the endless screaming. Johnathan did not fear death, as a retired warrior, he was ready to embrace it.
They tied a noose around his neck and readied him for execution.
...But a small voice could be heard arguing with one of the Generals.
Some sort of relative of a high ranking frenchman.
A young woman, who went by the name of Dusty.
Brunette hair, green eyes, soft lips, and mighty fine curves.
Johnathan may have been a grand warrior, but this younger woman caught his eyes and he was swept off his feet... or, rather, it was the floor dropped out from underneath him.
By strange luck, his neck did not break. Some would probably attribute that to his nearly anorexic appearance. The young woman begged for Johnathan to be set free, before dying of suffocation.
John became good friends with the french government over time, and got the riches that came with it.
A friend of the royal family.
He was head over heels in love with dusty. She was compassionate for him, she did not love him in the same way. Whenever she was near, Johnathan's PTSD from his time served in the war, would be absent.
His constant pain and heartache, writhing bitterness, all soothed by a small french maiden.
She disappeared, however. Never to be seen again. But John remained in the Caribbean a few more years, recruited some men, and traveled to the colonies in his older years to search for Dusty. Johnathan was executed by a redcoats pistol, August 12th 1776.
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