*The force theme plays as I look off into the horizon*XD
*twin suns set majestically as your brown cloak swirls around*
"Sir," my thoughts are interrupted by Tim, the currier, "This urgent message was just patched through from the Active archipelago up in the Arctic LMBEs, sir. From a certain Captain Essa Tanter of the I.S.S. Oriande. She needs your help, sir."
*Turns away from the sunset to look at Tim, a gleam of adventure in my eyes*
"Well, it's about time we got the gang back toge-"
"Sir, you don't have an organized group of friends here."
"Oh, quite right. Very well then we'd better gather ourselves a gang, because regardless we're going on an adventure!"
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
*twin suns set majestically as your brown cloak swirls around*
"Sir," my thoughts are interrupted by Tim, the currier, "This urgent message was just patched through from the Active archipelago up in the Arctic LMBEs, sir. From a certain Captain Essa Tanter of the I.S.S. Oriande. She needs your help, sir."
*Turns away from the sunset to look at Tim, a gleam of adventure in my eyes*
"Well, it's about time we got the gang back toge-"
"Sir, you don't have an organized group of friends here."
"Oh, quite right. Very well then we'd better gather ourselves a gang, because regardless we're going on an adventure!"
*paces across bridge in a very captain like way while waiting for you to arrive*
*twin suns set majestically as your brown cloak swirls around*
"Sir," my thoughts are interrupted by Tim, the currier, "This urgent message was just patched through from the Active archipelago up in the Arctic LMBEs, sir. From a certain Captain Essa Tanter of the I.S.S. Oriande. She needs your help, sir."
*Turns away from the sunset to look at Tim, a gleam of adventure in my eyes*
"Well, it's about time we got the gang back toge-"
"Sir, you don't have an organized group of friends here."
"Oh, quite right. Very well then we'd better gather ourselves a gang, because regardless we're going on an adventure!"
An atypically large warship crashes through the scenic scene scenically, ruining any level of calm or serenity the area might have had before its arrival. From the helm is a quite unappealing and raggedy skeleton, wearing denim cargo pants, a bright red leather jacket, and a scuffed up sailor's hat. On the side of the vessel readsthe S.R. Yamato, haphazardly spray painted on as if a hoodlum grafitted on it. The ship was nearly decimated. In all honesty, it looked like someone fetched it from the graveyard and bought a barely functional engine for it. Which was true. All of it.
"Ahoy cap'n!" the dirty hobo of a skeleton cried out. He drew a smallsword from his side, watching it glisten against the Golden Hour sunset. The man kept his pose for an unnervingly long time, until a small canoe called from behind him.
"Oi, Jack Skellington lookin' ruffian, get your unhygenic rusted up bottom feedin' hobo smashin' code one seventy seven o' thirteen lookin' arthritis havin' no good rustled up Chinese sea pillagin' tax evadin' Sparrow wannabe puny lil' cheeky as hecc bum back to the E.C. Forbin, or face the might o' the eNTIRE NAV-"
And with that, a torpedo ravanged the small canoe and tore the wood to shreds. The skeleton simply shrugged and jumped onto land. "So am I your deckhand or what, cap'n?"
Hey Oreo 
