Jake groans as he tries to force himself to wake. He hated the sea. Ever since his mother was kidnapped from his father's ship. And he was still just a toddler of three...he had a strong hatred towards the Navy of any country. And yet was fearful of the pirates. Even though...his mother had been the Queen Of Pirates til that fateful day. His father the King Of Pirates...had been slain in front of his very eyes. But that memory was vague and hard to see or remember.<br/><br/>He was almost a mirror copy of his father...the biggest, baddest, most infamous of all the pirates ever...The King Of Pirates himself. He was the missing heir to the pirate throne. Many tried to replace the old King Of Pirates but the treasure of his was cursed and all came to fatal and gruesome ends. He however took after his mother some. She'd been slain and because she had been a Piratess it was unimportant to anyone else. Expecially those of the law. He refused to go on sea and yet refused to be a whipping post for the Royal Navy.<br/><br/>He lets out a soft hiss of pain. His body riddled with bruises new and old. Cuts from a whip criss crossed his sexy toned torso. His shirt and pants (in the picture) were torn and tattered in the places where cuts were at. He tries to sit up and hits his head hard. "OW!" he cries out. Groaning as he fell back weakly onto the silks. "Why is there a board blocking my exit?" he mutters. "And for that matter...why do I no longer hear the sounds of port?" he asks the crate. Not knowing or realizing he was on the sea. More so ON a ship. And worse...a PIRATE ship.<br/><br/>He weakly pushes and strains making hisses of pain til he manages to push the board lid up and off of the crate. It fell to an angle and he falls weakly onto the silks. "I wonder if I outsmarted that damn Killer for the Royal Navy?" he mutters but it was loud enough to hear. "Uhn......" he groans out in pain.<br/><br/>The strain had caused his body to start bleeding again at the cuts. He pants with weakened yet struggling in and out breaths. He couldn't move. Too tired. Weeks of little to no food. Weeks of running with little or no time to rest. It had caught up to him. And his features were hidden by the oversized cloak and oversized floppy hat.