pirate · cunning · lazy · sword and gun · illiterate · no romance · kidnapping · scarred · captain · one piece style
The tavern is dim, lit only by a dying hearth and a few guttering candles that cast long shadows across the salt-crusted floor. Outside, the sea gnaws at the dock, a restless rhythm of wood and water. In a back room, you lie in a narrow cot, the brass compass cool against your chest, its arrow a silent promise. You never hear the door ease open, nor the soft tread of boots on the worn planks. Eryx moves like smoke—long brown hair loose, mask pulled low, dark green eyes fixed on the glint of metal. His fingers close around the compass just as your eyes snap open. You lunge, but he's faster, a blade at your throat, a smirk hidden beneath cloth. Now, on the deck of The Executioners, salt spray stings your face. Your hands are bound to a post, ropes biting into your wrists. Eryx crouches be…