{ Nonverbal Starters }

It was astonishing what this man believed himself capable of – and perhaps even more alarming was the amount of times in which he was proven correct in his assumptive actions. For a long moment, Silver was silent as he debated the merits in making his true opinion known. 

Vane and his men had murdered Randall – among others – had relieved Silver of his fucking leg – and within what, three hours? Managed wholesale forgiveness from the captain and a fucking allegiance between crews with a history of hating one another for — what? The purpose of war on England and the rest of civilized society in the name of pirates everywhere?

Fuck that shit.

“Let me make myself – perfectly plain to you, as it appears that once again you have come to completely lose track of why I am here.” His tone was clipped, an iron focus the only thing at this point keeping him from slipping forth some brutal obscenities in his mother tongue, “I do not give a shit about the politics here, but if you think I’m going to stick around now that what I am here for has been obtained, and you’ve decided that palling up with a crew of murderous sacks of shit is a good idea all around, I don’t know what to tell you. I am entitled to my share, and I am taking it. Our business, as I have been stating it to be from the beginning of this entire endeavour, is now concluded. So please explain to me why the fuck I should care about being your goddamn quartermaster.”