Character name: Hector Barbossa
Series: Pirates of the Caribbean
Age: Fiftysomething (by appearances, at least -- who's to say what ten years of forced zombiefication does to one's complexion?)
Job: Chief Overseer Of Weddings, The Undead, And All Things Directly Related To The Aforementioned Phenomena; Stand-In Keeper Of The Pirata Codex In The Absence of Keith Richards (Or Any Other Higher Authority); And Last, But By No Means Least, Talk Like A Pirate Day Coordinator.
Canon: Captain Barbossa is a man who has clearly gone to great lengths to be the very picture of a pirate, complete with a really big hat and an undead monkey (a holdover from that one time he was a zombie. It's all right, he got better). He possesses a flair for the dramatic, a love of elaborate and highly ironic deaths that can rival any Bond villain, and an inclination toward eloquent, long-winded, poetically cadenced monologues. Though he's not above committing mutiny nor shooting his own crewmen to test a theory, he does seem to have a code of honor he upholds -- or at least tries to give the impression of upholding long enough for people to think him a charming gentleman rogue. After all, it's far more satisfying to catch someone off-guard with a scathing mockery of their own words when they thought you to be on their side a moment before.
Ten years of being cursed and an indeterminate time spent being dead have left Barbossa hell-bent on taking his newly-restored life into his own hands. This wouldn't be nearly so notable if it didn't largely seem to involve sailing ships over the edge of the world while cackling, grand and convoluted schemes to steal nigh-indecipherable charts from the Pirate Lord of Singapore, and tying an all-powerful sea goddess to the mast of his ship before asking her favor. Still, even the maddest of plans can work in the hands of somone capable enough to see them through. When all's said and done, he may not be a good man, and he may not be a sane man, but if you need someone to perform an impromptu wedding while simultaneously swordfighting eel people and captaining a ship in the midst of an epic sea battle in a maelstrom... Barbossa is just the man for the job.
Sample Entry:
Aye, it be exploits such as these that get a man made Pirate Lord of a landlocked sea.
'Twas no small feat of nautical proficiency, maneuverin' a vessel the size of the Pearl into waters this perilous and shallow, filled with all manner of eldritch beasts and weather of a most bizarre nature... but it's immortality I've come seekin' and it's immortality the lot of us've been granted. At the temporary cost of all our freedom, to be sure, but there's not a prison in this or any world as can't be bested by those with the mettle to see a plan through and the ingenuity to think of such a plan in the first place.
And the first man who sees fit to mention the failed boat-tipping'll be tossed overboard to be a meal for the beast what dwells in this lake. Seems there are times when a barrel roll is not, in fact, the best of choices.
But enough o' that! We may be temporally and geographically displaced, but don't think for a moment that means things'll be changin'. Quite the opposite, in fact -- in a place such as this, it's more important than ever to keep to tradition. That said, however, as the most knowledgeable among those here in matters regardin' the Pirate Code, I've taken the liberty of makin' a few... temporary amendments to allow for the peculiarities of our current location. The most notable of these amendments bein':
- Amendment I: As new recruits, each among you will be recievin' equal shares of all plunder taken, as well as rations of artificially sweetened grog substitute.
- Amendment II: Any man desertin' the crew or bein' found guilty of cowardice in the face of battle shall be marooned as far from the camp as is possible, left with naught but a pistol and a bowl o' Tuesday's Mystery Soup.
- Amendment III: Each man has an equal vote in affairs of the ship, save for what men have intimate knowledge of sailin' a vessel out of a landlocked body of water, whose vote trumps all others by virtue of bein' the most pertinent at the present time.
- Amendment IV:. Any two men among among the crew with a quarrel between them shall be put ashore by the mess hall and made to settle their differences on their own, whether by pistol, sword, or that sport what the natives refer to as "Jello wrestlin'."
- Addendum to Amendment IV (The Sparrow Clause): In matters where the rightful owner of the title of captain be at stake, however, the aforementioned rule does not apply... particularly the bit about the Jello.
- Amendment V:. He who has the misfortune to lose a limb while answerin' the call of duty would, under normal circumstances, recieve 800 pieces o' eight in recompense. However, what with the risin' cost of trainin' new crewmen an' the presence of alternative methods of rightin' such a wrong, he who loses a limb in the service of this ship will be repaid with a well-placed pistol shot free of charge, and the privilege of bein' revived by our very own shipboard Moogle.
Anyone among you takin' issue with any of these new regulations can be directin' their complaints to the suggestion box fixed to the starboard side of the mizzenmast along with yer name and where I might be findin' you for a bit o' discourse on the matter. After all, this is a democracy.