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Introduction

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"Would I betray my kin for a chance of immortality? Well, of course. I'm a pirate, after all."

-Captain Radnor 'Riot' Emmit

A group of men and women alike sat together at a long, rectangular made of wood. A total of eight hats, with them in different conditions, settled in front of their respectful person. A woman with stormy grey eyes was sitting at the head of the table, with her long blonde hair tied in a messy ponytail. Her skin is tanned, with dark freckles staining her cheeks. Her bow lips twisted into a smile, her eyes of storms glimmering with an unknown emotion. Her outfit was weathered and worn down, with two pistols attached to her hips and an ammo belt strapped loosely to her chest. "So," her tone was teasing, yet there was a bit of seriousness to it, "are we seeking such a thing? Could it be possible?" Her eyes turned to the man sitting on her left side, watching intently as he sipped from a brown mug while the rum soaked his classic full beard.

Meanwhile, his black hair gleamed under the candlelight of the chandler hanging above. His man's eyes of icy blues locked with hers, prolonging his drinking to annoy her. His eyelids were stained with black eyeshadow, ruined from sweat and the seas splashing on his pale, smooth face. Around his neck was a compass, the arrow moving in a clockwise motion in an infinite loop. "Captain Almira Salvador, I don't know how to answer such a question. Better yet," he slams his mug on the surface of the table, "I have little care to discuss such a thing with my bitter rivals," he turns to the man sitting across from him, hoisting his mug, and gives a tilt of his head, "except for Captain Leighton, of course." Almira huffs in annoyance, watching as the man supposedly named Leighton leans against his chair with his feet settled on the table.

Leighton's dark emerald eyes dimmed, muttering a few words under his breath, "Don't you dare drag me into your petty squabbles, Captain Salvador. You too, Calder." His appearance was roguish-like that of a wild animal. Scars decorated his face, with his messy hair of dark brown partially covering it. There's a violent gleam in his green orbs. Hidden under his layer of clothing were multiple bandages, hiding the scars he endured during his conflicts. Leighton was and would always be a ticking timebomb, waiting for an excuse to flay the others alive. The man with the beard, supposedly Calder, stands up from his table, pointing an accusing finger in Leighton's direction. "It's Captain Prescott to you!" Unbothered by Captain Prescott's outburst, Captain Leighton spins a finger through his tangled beard, his beard reaching past his throat. A woman sitting next to Captain Leighton only laughs, covering her lips with her hand. On each finger were multiple rings made of valuable metal and gemstones, and her outfit wasn't tattered, unlike the others at this table. "I wouldn't call you much of a captain either. I've heard word that you're in your chambers drinking away," she points at Captain Prescott, making a circular motion with her finger, "compared to us. Your skin has been left untouched by the Sun and salt of the seas. The only touch you get is when the rum hits your lapping tongue."

Her joke causes everyone to snicker, even the violent man sitting beside her chortles. Prescott's face twisted with fury before sitting back down in his chair, taking another swig of his wooden mug, "You're all talk, Captain Reeves. From what the sea birdies told me is that you bribe your way out of conflict. Barely any blood on your silken hands," he grumbled, while Reeves raised a singular brow, "It's called business. Maybe you learn something about if you weren't a drunkard." She flexes off her exquisite clothing. Her attire consisted of gold silk and black linen. Playing with a strand of her wavy hair of red, her hair bouncing back in position each time she lets go. "A fool who's an excellent navigator. Had I mentioned that I was the first to attend the meeting?" Intrigued by the brewing conflict, the others remained quiet. Captain Reeves' laughter never ceased, her light brown eyes shining brighter, "I bet to be the first to have a drink."

Almira pulls out one of her pistols, shooting at Prescott's mug, watching the beverage leak from the bullet holes. The navigator glares daggers in Almira's way, then focuses on the man sitting on his left. "Can't you believe this?!? Why is everyone against me!?!" The person beside him was wearing an eyepatch with a decorative skull stitched into the fabric. His skin tone was a dark brown, like that of chocolate, and his hands were covered with fingerless gloves. He appears underdressed for the occasion, wearing a simple shirt and pants with a sleeveless leather coat. His singular eye of amber was seething with boredom, moving his only eye to examine Prescott. "It's because you're a fool." He adjusts in the chair, shifting the rifle settled in his lap to fix its position. "C'mon and aid me, Captain Crowley! I never sunk any of your fleets! Only there's!" Crowley turns away, shutting his eye to take a nap. It's silently clear that the conversation between them is over, making Prescott snort.

Another fellow voiced his opinions, his original skin tone unknown, as it's been tanned heavily from staying outside for an extended time. The palms of his hands are withered, but not because of combat-worn down from that wooden material. His dark blue eyes thoroughly inspected the individuals sitting at the table. "I have enough of this foolery. Hurry up and share what's important." He was oddly calm, with his posture composed yet defensive. Almira huffs, "Always the impatient one, Captain Uberto. Do you sense a storm brewing, mister helmsman?" She watches as he rakes his fingers through his dirty blonde hair to push it back to keep it away from his eyes. He grew quiet after that, only huffing before staring out the window at the clouds. At the very end of the table were two other women who kept to themselves during the meeting. "He is right, you know. We have to hurry this along, or else some random pirates attempt to claim what's ours." The one who spoke was Captain Wright, her long, straight black hair tied in a tight bun. The color of the woman's skin was a sunkissed yellow, her monolid eyelids hovering over her seemingly black eyes. No one can outshine her combat strategies in the waters and lands, her tactics unmatched with her mind always brewing with plans. Her outfit is moderate, but the way she carries her makes her overbearing for some.

Lastly, the woman across from Captain Wright nodded in agreement with the other's impatience. She reeked of gunpowder, her skin permanently stained by what appeared to be charcoal. Her hair was partially singed off from her many failed attempts at making explosives. She's known as Captain Hayes, the demolition expert and the creator of most explosives currently sold in the pirate market. "I have a booming business to run. I can't keep stalling here waiting for you to spill the powder, mate." Hayes rests her left cheek in the palm of her hand, staring at Almira nestled at the front of the table. That made everyone eager to begin the meeting, making Captain Salvador grin. "I know all of you are craving for more. I can see it in your crazed eyes," turning her focus to Captain Crowley, "eye, too." She pauses to add a dramatic effect to her future words, clasping her hands together and setting them on the table. Prescott leans in his seat, Crowley awakens from his short nap, Leighton's blood-crazed eyes settled, Reeves's impish grin only grew, Uberto finally pays attention to Almira, Wright completely turns her body to face her, and Hayes appears intrigued to something else that doesn't involve bombs. "Oh, and what would that be?" Wright asked, interested for once within the conversation. Almira's smile turns wicked, her eyes burning with passion. Now that everyone was on her and eagerly waiting, she finally spilled.

"Immortality."

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Plot

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Children of these infamous pirates woke up one day and found a peculiar marking placed randomly on their bodies. The marking is in the shape of a skull shattered in the middle, and its eyes are the same color as their respective parents. It's a debt that needs to be paid, but you can't buy it off with coins. Oh no. This one is cleared off by offering your life or someone else's. It's a due that never gets the other's approval. They've been cursed by the Reaper of the Seas, a punishment for their parents' sins of seeking immortality. The markings are deemed cursed within the pirate community, a source of bad luck since it acts like a tracker for the Reaper of the Seas. Now, the eight children banded together to find their parents to free themselves from this curse by hunting down their parents. Their journey won't be easy, as the Reaper of the Seas is determined to claim their souls. He's eager to send his fleet of undead pirates and sea monster children to hunt them down to claim what he sees as rightfully his.

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Gail 'Hex' Emmit

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"I don't know what's worse. Mother raiding and killing my father, or this putrid-tasting rum. Huh. . .it's the rum."

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Name:
Gail 'Hex' Emmit [Fake Name By Father]
Alverdine 'Dead Eyes' Salvador [Actual Name By Mother]

Preferred Name:
Gail 'Hex' Emmit

Nicknames:
Nope

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Age:
25

Gender:
Female

Pronouns:
She/Her

Sexuality:
Poly-Bisexual

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Appearance:

credits to leaving the house @ neka.cc

Gail is a striking resemblance to her mother Almira, albeit taller compared to the pirate queen. Her skin tone is a light tan, considering her being outside almost every single minute of the day, and only going inside bars to have a nice drink. Her body is hardened with muscles, but not as exposed compared to others. Some would think she is graceful with her skills, but in all reality, she is like a jumpy squirrel leaping from tree to tree to escape a hungry predator. Hey, escaping from people wanting to kill you shouldn't be stylish, as you need a way to lose them with mass confusion in their brains. Her figure is that of a rectangle, with her sides partially even with her chest and waist, forming a square-like figurine. However, the attire she wears makes others believe that she is a man as some of her feminine features aren't as noticeable. She doesn't take it as an offense, actually enjoying their shocked faces when her feminine voice is revealed when she communicates with them.

WIP

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Personality:
Gambling-Addict | Drinker | Party-Goer | Cocky | Can Be Flirtatious | Undisplinced | Rebellious | Mindless | Adventurous | Brave | Cold-Hearted To Strangers | Active | Fun-Loving | Uncooperative At Times | Impish | Sociable | Absentminded | High-Spirited | Ill-Mannered | Liar | Troublesome | Thievish | Rowdy | Petty | Childish

Likes:
Drinking
Gambling
Parties
Thunderstorms
The Smell of the Ocean
Chocolate
Success
A Good Joke
Freshly Baked Goods
Traveling
Praise
Music

Dislikes:
Whiny Children
Extreme Cold
Boredom
Holes In Socks
Getting Lost
Headaches
Losing At Something
Criticism
Riddles
Being Bossed Around
Terrible Tasting Rum
Splinter

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Primary Skill:
Sharpshooting

Secondary Skill:
Parkour

Strengths:
Brave
Self-Confident
Sociable
Dexterity
Flexible
Accuracy

Weaknesses:
Rebellious
Careless
Dishonest
Intelligence
Durability
Stealth

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Relationship Status:
Single Pringle

Significant Other(s):
Nope

Crushes:
Nada

Exes:
Wait, I don't have exes

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Kin:

Almira 'She-Devil' Salvador

Mother

WIP

Radnor 'Riot' Emmit

Father

WIP

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Other:
Bloop

Primary Weapon(s) Of Choice:

➥ As a swordsman, his first choices of weapon are usually a cutlass or raiper as he was trained in usage of both. He is also pretty good with a saber, but not as smooth or coordinated as he is with the latter weapons.

➥ His secondary choice of weapons are daggers, particularly stiletto and poingnard daggers, it takes into account his noble birth and his refined and educated nature. He is more agile and swift with these weapons in close quarters unlike a more brutish opponent.

Strengths:
WIP

Weaknesses:
WIP

Significant Other:
No, He Hasn't Had One In A While

Exes:
He's Had His Heart Broken A Few Times And He's Broken A Few Hearts Himself. He Has A Total Of Three Exes.

Familial Relationships:
Ina "Medusa" Wright
Mother
Where to begin. It is quite safe to say that this boy is a mama's boy for sure. His mother was fairly young when she had him, being a young woman of twenty one, and freshly married to her noble husband. She being a noble herself ( of course the other nobles didn't know of her pirate lifestyle. ) She rather adored her boy, and was proud to bear a son as her firstborn, and she vowed to make sure he loved the sea as much as she did. After all, this arranged marriage wasn't all that fun. So she took her son at the age of four with her to the seas, and she taught him the ways of it. Teaching her son strategy and cunning -- impressed as she watched his intelligence and strength grow. Teaching him the way of weapons and sword, and how to properly fight. She was a harsh tutor, being firm and strict, she may have been a bit too much at times and had a bit of emotional manipulation, but she'd never physically harm him. Though she did make him cry at times and doubt himself, she tried to mend it through talking and such. He loved her very much, and that's why when he was fifteen and she sent him to live with his father, he resented her very much. He had grown accustomed to the life of the sea and it was all taken. She only left him a gun and her prized sword. For two years she came to visit and then the letters started getting shorter and shorter. And when he was twenty, they just . . . stopped. And now he has to choose between her life and his own. It should be an easy choice . . . right?

Tollak Eiriksson

It's quite natural for a father and son to have a special bond that is unshakable, but these two don't have that.

reserve me the Captain Dexter 'The Wild' Leighton child.