Some things I remember
Here be an addendum of sorts to my introduction, just in case any of you sots are already chompin' at the bit (so to speak) for more of me.
Some things I remember ...
The lash of an easterly wind on my face, the salty bite of the brine flung against chafed and sun-blistered skin.
The heft of hoarded swag: the razor-sharp edges of precious gems, the cool slide of silver and gold 'twixt my fingers.
The raw reek of wine on a whore's breath, sour as it is sweet.
And the taste of a green apple at its ripest -- the way its tartness makes your lips curl back from your teeth, flooding your mouth with slaver, the tang pricking at your tongue long after you've gnawed the fruit's flesh down to the core.
Ye may think such memories have drifted away from me, lost to the long years of dank mists and harsh moonlight. But the truth is blood such as mine ne'er forgets those things what once made it run rife with rapture, quick with greed, hot with lust.
Aye, even when that blood has ceased to flow through the veins at all.
OOC note: I originally wrote the text of this post for my AOL role-play Barbossa's profile, and have since shamelessly edited and reposted it in various other places. So on the slim chance that you've seen it before and are now like, HEY, is this copied?! -- it's not. :D
Some things I remember ...
The lash of an easterly wind on my face, the salty bite of the brine flung against chafed and sun-blistered skin.
The heft of hoarded swag: the razor-sharp edges of precious gems, the cool slide of silver and gold 'twixt my fingers.
The raw reek of wine on a whore's breath, sour as it is sweet.
And the taste of a green apple at its ripest -- the way its tartness makes your lips curl back from your teeth, flooding your mouth with slaver, the tang pricking at your tongue long after you've gnawed the fruit's flesh down to the core.
Ye may think such memories have drifted away from me, lost to the long years of dank mists and harsh moonlight. But the truth is blood such as mine ne'er forgets those things what once made it run rife with rapture, quick with greed, hot with lust.
Aye, even when that blood has ceased to flow through the veins at all.
OOC note: I originally wrote the text of this post for my AOL role-play Barbossa's profile, and have since shamelessly edited and reposted it in various other places. So on the slim chance that you've seen it before and are now like, HEY, is this copied?! -- it's not. :D