<strong>Name:</strong>Mr. Smith (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=141932.0)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Sirens Call Brig<br/><strong>Languages:</strong>Spanish, English<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Himself[/floatleft]<br/><br/>Mr. Smith realized for the first time in his very long career that he was not a fan of the brig, as the captain of one of his own vessels for much of his young life, he had loved the brig, a boozed subordinate could cool off in one, a stowaway could be left to rot away in one a potential hostage caused no trouble in one and a treasonous dog could stew before the good captain pushed him into the deeps with a cannonball tied to his ankles, these had all been pluses to this day. Now he was spending time in one and he realized just how damnable boring it was.<br/><br/>He had much preferred the Spanish prison, everyone was rowdy if the good captain had been bored he would just get in a fight, have a conversation and if worse came to worse there was always one pretty lookin boy he could pretend was a girl as he made whoever the poor soul was suck dick or take one up the arse for the good captains sake. Here however no such luxuries were afforded.<br/><br/>He went into his coat pocket and removed the small flask of liquor he had smuggled aboard. He shook it, "Enough to get drunk?" He asked the question aloud but there was not even a guard to take it from him. Clearly people didn't think much of dead captains these days he considered... He took a good swig and shook, "Mmm good stuff." He considered. He wondered if it were strong enough to burn through bars, the thought amused him than made him ashamed...<br/><br/>"How could I ever consider wasting good booze on something as petty as escape?"