Today's a two for one special kinda day seeing as I haven't posted in awhile. (Totally not because I wanted to post something for Mermay as well :3 )

Pirate Slang Cheat Sheet in Order it Appears:
• Bilge-Sucking: Insult expressing disdain. It suggests that the person is as dirty and unpleasant as the bilge water found at the bottom of a ship.
• Scallywag: Refers to a mischievous or disreputable person, often used in a playful or teasing manner.
• Plug Tail: Slang for penis.
• Briney Deep: Slang for ocean.
• Feed the Fish: Term for losing a fight at sea meaning your body would feed the fishes.
• Davy Jone's Locker: A metaphor for the oceanic abyss, the final resting place of drowned sailors and travellers. It is a euphemism for drowning or shipwrecks in which the sailors' and ships' remains are consigned to the depths of the ocean.
• Deck Cargo: Naval slang for a woman’s breasts.
• Cherrilets: 16th Century slang term for nipples.
• Talk Bilge: Meaning to talk nonsense. It derives from the filthy bilge water in the lower parts of a ship.
• Milch Cow: Term for Cash Cow that would’ve been used in the 1700s.
• Sporting her Dairies: Meaning to show off one’s breasts.
• Dairy: Slang term for a woman’s breasts.
• Bunter: A low class, dirty prostitute, as much a beggar as a whore.

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Waves crashed against the shoreline of the New Avarice Free Harbor, a small trading island in the Caribbean free from French or English occupation. The sky an endless dark gray as rain poured down from the heavens and beams of lightning struck far out at sea. A mere hundred or so steps away from the docks a half human, half fish abomination haphazardly breached the sea foam tide, landing amongst the craggy rocks.

“Get these bilge-sucking creatures off a me!” Her dainty hands, a stark contrast against her beautiful yet scarred face, pried at a pair of starfish who had made themselves comfy at the tip of ‘er teats. “Why ye-!”

The merlday that’d make any scallywag stroke his plug tail hadn’t always been a beaut laid bare. In fact, just a few hours ago you’d recognize ‘er as one of the most feared pirates on this side of the Caribbean, Captain Erik Gideon, better known as The Scarlet Scourge of the Seas. He and his crew had just found an artifact once thought to be a myth, the Ocean Jasper Amulet. It was a beautiful jasper, bedazzled into a finely crafted amulet made of the purest silver any of them had ever seen. It was said to be the very heart of the ocean but Gideon never bought into no ghost tales. That was until this very day. A dark, malevolent storm appeared outta nowhere, causing the very waves to crack his ship in twain. Him and his crew were cast into the relentless, cold embrace of the briney deep and while they all fed the fish and joined Davy Jone’s Locker he bore the curse of the amulet around his neck. The jasper glowed a violent red as it transformed the feared pirate captain into the garish nymph of the sea she now was. With nowhere else to turn tail to she swam back through the murky depths, back to the island they had just set sails from. It took ‘er a few hours, between managing learning to swim and wrangling ‘er bountiful deck cargo from pulling her to the stormy surface, but she managed. All until these lousy, filthy, rotten, leprous, flea-bitten, scurvy, stinkin', poxy, weevil-infested starfish decided that her cherrilets were a better vessel to call home than some stones just off the shorelines.

Gideon: “I said get off me chest!”

Peering over an overgrowth of brush just up the beach were two men. The larger, well spoken man was a local money-grubber who was always looking to make a quick buck, and the scrawny, unkempt guy was his drinking buddy Smith. “I told you I saw me a fishlady!” Smith slurred his words, deciding to look directly at Cassian as he spoke rather than the oddity before them. “I told you I ain’t talk no bilge.”

“Forgive me chap,” Cassian placed his hand on his pals shoulders, “but you did have a wee bit much to drink today.” He let go of Smith’s shoulder and returned his attention back to the mermaid who was aggressively pulling at the starfish attached to her bosom, letting out angry sounding squeals and hisses. “Lord she’s a beaut. You reckon it’d be our milch cow in this filthy joint Smith?”

“Hard to say…” Smith rubbed his chin in a vain attempt to not look like the fool he was. “What was you planning?”

“Well listen close and I’ll tell you.” Cassian leaned in close and whispered. “We go catch us that there lady of the sea and we charge folks to come give her a looker. You following Smith?”

“Uh-huh.” Smith nodded.

Cassian: “Good. Now that ain’t where we get our share of the shilling from. We take her back somewhere sporting her dairies like she doing right now and charge a pretty gold coin to any fella that want to treat her like a bunter. You with me?”

“Uh-huh.” Smith repeated. “I think I is.”

“Good.” Cassian reached behind himself and grabbed two nets, one of which he handed to Smith. “Let’s go net fishing then.”