[a grumpy Thatch pulls himself out of a cluster of prickle bushes that seem to want not to let go. He's struggling with them and getting tiny infuriating cuts here and there. There are also prickles in his hair and on his face]
What the hell is wrong with this stupid place? [struggle struggle. Help a pirate out?]
Phase III: [Thatch isn't inclined to put anything back no matter who looks at him sadly. If he needs it, he's going to take it. The Dead don't need it, they're dead. And technically so is he, so that's what it is. Feel free to stumble upon Thatch looting useful items, interesting items, and maybe casually further wrecking a hut for use of firewood.]
Phase IV: [Thatch is irritable, his pompadour is a mess and he's covered with a rash that has taken on a blueish tinge that itches intolerably. He's either glumly sitting by the river or otherwise wandering around with his makeshift spear since whoever bought them here didn't seem fit to let him have his sabers. Of course not.]
I'm going to kill the hell out of everything.
[though by everything he mostly means game]
Wildcard: [anything and everything you'd like to do with a grumpy, dirty, seven foot tall pirate with limp hair. Humidity sucks]
no subject
[a grumpy Thatch pulls himself out of a cluster of prickle bushes that seem to want not to let go. He's struggling with them and getting tiny infuriating cuts here and there. There are also prickles in his hair and on his face]
What the hell is wrong with this stupid place? [struggle struggle. Help a pirate out?]
Phase III: [Thatch isn't inclined to put anything back no matter who looks at him sadly. If he needs it, he's going to take it. The Dead don't need it, they're dead. And technically so is he, so that's what it is. Feel free to stumble upon Thatch looting useful items, interesting items, and maybe casually further wrecking a hut for use of firewood.]
Phase IV: [Thatch is irritable, his pompadour is a mess and he's covered with a rash that has taken on a blueish tinge that itches intolerably. He's either glumly sitting by the river or otherwise wandering around with his makeshift spear since whoever bought them here didn't seem fit to let him have his sabers. Of course not.]
I'm going to kill the hell out of everything.
[though by everything he mostly means game]
Wildcard: [anything and everything you'd like to do with a grumpy, dirty, seven foot tall pirate with limp hair. Humidity sucks]