Bro, my unyielding loyalty towards you is totally normal and healthy, I swear. It's just that it's definitely my duty to rip out your enemies throats with my bare teeth. You are the love of my life and I am your most valuable tool. Each night, I fantasize about dying in your arms, covered in blood, and then I close my eyes one final time, satisfied because I can feel your fingers on my face as I take my last breath. Haha anyways
Then, too, at sea—to use a homely but expressive phrase—you miss a man so much. A dozen men are shut up together in a little bark, upon the wide, wide sea, and for months and months see no forms and hear no voices but their own, and one is taken suddenly from among them, and they miss him at every turn. It is like losing a limb. There are no new faces or new scenes to fill up the gap. There is always an empty berth in the forecastle, and one man wanting when the small night watch is mustered. There is one less to take up the wheel, and one less to lay out with you upon the yard. You miss his form, and the sound of his voice, for habit had made them almost necessary to you, and each of your senses feels the loss.
—a sailor's diary entry, on losing a shipmate, ca. 1834 (from Two Years Before the Mast by Richard Henry Dana Jr.)
LOVED to see Frenchie running scams again and recruiting the Revenge crew to help. Replica planks. Lucius signing fake Stede autographs for Black Pete to sell. Wee John doing Stede tattoos. Use your captain's new found infamy to grift everyone in sight. You're doing amazing babes.