Bigfoot is Dead

⤰ ᄃΉΛPƬΣЯ II

There was a man rumored to be the worst pirate on all seven seas, having a reputation just as bad and wicked as his punishments to the people that get in his way.
He was neither kind nor nice, but rather one of the worst pirates on the sea. Some want to be him, and that kind is filled with idiots because they bring a bad name to pirates. Other pirates, if not the majority, hate him and think of him as a Viking more than a pirate. 

There was a time when he was rumored to not have a nose due to the consequence of a battle, and that was only a whisper, but friends and foes alike held to nicknaming him Noseless. It enraged him and made every vein in his body frenetic.
It is quite funny, especially when you are fortuitous enough to see how red and laughable his face becomes the wink he hears the nickname. 

And that was all being told as a little morning tale for the crew of the Red Dragon. 

"They say he's wicked," the tale ended there. 

"What is there about him?" one of the crew members asked, a pirate with spiky hair. 

"He gave himself a sea-wide reputation, but with a price of hate," Mirit Clover, the storyteller of the day, told the rest of the members.

 "But didn't you just say that not all hate the man?" asked another crew. 

"I did, aye, but most hate him," Mirit reminded them of the rest of her word. "He's a bastard, I know." 

"Are you related to him?"

"Just because two people have the same surname, doesn't necessarily imply they know each other," the Captain came to the rescue. "Maybe he stole her name or she stole his?"

"If I could, I'd change my name," Mirit muttered. "But my mother choose it, I wouldn't want to go against her." 

"Mother's love is understood," spoke Ettie Fotlace, who used to be very close with her late mother. An event, a death, that happened caused her to make the choice of being a pirate, just like her adored grandfather who used to be one of the best in his time. 

 "Now, off to work," the Captain reminded them of her presence.
They saluted their captain and headed to their routine chores of the morning. 

Lily Evans leaned against the rail and Mirit Clover joined her captain. 

"They still ask if we're related," Mirit started the conversation. 

"You don't have to tell them if you don't want to," the redheaded captain remind her for what was the seventeenth time. "Dead men tell no tales, but that ain't mean we have to spill to people every single detail."

"Dead men tell no tales," Mirit recalled. "That's one of my favorite sayings."

"Especially when you're about to push a bastard into the sea," Lily smiled, remembering a time she did just that. 

"Sharing one fake secret before drowning him. If he died, he can never tell. If he lived, he'd be spreading a false."

"Some think of taking the bigger risk and telling the fish meat a true secret anyway."

"What if he lives?" 

"You simply kill him in a more absurd way. Venturing risks," the Captain said. "Of course, that's for some willing pirates."

"When have pirates never been willing?" Mirit questioned.

⊱⊰ ⊱⊰ ⊱⊰

"GET TO YOUR PORTS!" the Captain of the Marauding shouted upon exiting his cabin, a door slamming proceeded the shout. 

The crew saluted their captain and went to their ports, except one. One grinning, madman-looking pirate approached the captain.