- Messages
- 2,113
- Reaction score
- 7,126
- Points
- 9,250
- Salty Doubloons
- 2,765
Age: Nunya business
Astrological Sign: Cancer
Blood Group: AB
Level: 49
Job: Mercenary, Bartender, Fisherman, Cook
Number of Ex-Wives: 21.5
Bounty: 45.000.000 Berry
Let me learn you landlubbers something about meself. I´m Santiago Bill, and I'm a salt encrusted Seabear.
I been on a thousand ships, been cursed by sea witches more times'n I can count and have loved ev'ry woman I ever married. Some of those marriages led to most of those curses.
I grew up on the high seas around every kind of people. There was times I'd heard more different accents than I knew words to say. That times was yesterday, when I learned the word "Umami".
It means "Good for fishbait", ya see?
I´m a consummate fisherman. I knows how to cook 'em, too, but the real thrill is always the catch, the fight. And the bragging rights, of course. I gotta whole lotta pictures o' me with some real humdingers.
Me biggest trophy is me Billfish. Took me three days and nights to get him on me boat. He fought me with all his strength, and he was dead by the time I reeled him in. He never gave in, an' I respect him for it.
'S why I honor him. I taxidermied him an' use him as a weapon. There's quite a lot of souls I sent down to Davy Jones Locker what can attest to the fight in him.
I'm a worldly man. Been all over the world, and been in bed wid a lot of it, too. I have gambling debts in 403 countries, some of which don´t exist anymore, and some don´t exist yet. I like to know what is happenin' in the world. To know what's brewing in the murky depths of the underworld.
And the best place to get a feel for what's rustlin' the scallywags, boodlers and freebooters is at the bottom of a bottle.
I drank with some of Barcrawling's Greatest. Two Pint Punchy knocked out me last baby tooth. I drank Bottomless Barry under the table and couldn't set a foot on land for three years without getting sick.
I served the legendary King Booker Thompson the shot of grog that made him quit drinking and get sober. He was dead the next morning. I bin where it happened.
Of course the youth of today don't even remember who the King was, or Punchy, Captain Corkshot, the Empty Bar Crew. But I bin there. And when I retire from being a Seabear, that's where I'll be.
I'll have me own Bar. And it'll be where it happens again.
I bin saving up, y' see? Got this great bottle of Whiskey, Starks Mallard, matured in oak for 50 years, strong enough to burn through any normal bottle. I heard talk the reason Starks Mallard went belly up is the enormous cost of manufacturin' these bottles that can hold their liquor. People will pay just to have a look at it, sitting on the top shelf. Cost me a great fortune. Well, my ex, but who's countin'.
I drank in ev'ry port and harbour, wherever we made anchour. And I drank on the high seas. Only way to survive when you´ve got a first mate with a wicked whip and a rotting corpse in the bunk next to you.
'S not much better when you is the one with the whip either, let me tell ya. Gotta get these 150 lost souls home to the next bar, and all of them would rather die at sea it seems. 'S even worse when it´s not a pirate ship, when ye got navy headquarters breathing down yer neck to get 'er into formation, or some investor dockin' yer pay for a days delay.
I sailed on any ship that would take me, and soon tired o' being a grunt sailor. I knew my way around a fry station, and soon found my role as a Smutje. What I cook up isn´t pretty enough to call meself a Chief Cook, but it fills the stomach and keeps the crew going. Kitchen duty is a fine thing. No more sail riggin', deck scrubbin' or figurehead polishin'. And with free reign over distributiion the crews loyalties will always be yours. Fastest way to start a mutiny, get the cook on your side.
I ain´t no slouch when it comes to fighting, either. After some run ins with the law my options for employment became rather limited, so a certain finesse with a weapon became a necessary trick of my trade. Nowadays I´m mostly self employed on these skills, operating as hired muscle, and hunting scum for change. There´s quite a lot of brutal tales what ended at the end of my chain. I ain´t got no mercy for fellow men of the sea, and don´t expect any neither. You pour your grog, you drink it, as I always say.
Now run along and bring me a beer. The fish won´t bite with you yappin' about all day.
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