You would think moments of triumph would not be difficult to come by for the immortal, but with every easy victory, the rush that accompanies the idea of conquest dulls and tarnishes until it is nothing more than killing for the sake of killing. For the sake of having something to do over the course of infinite. There is no satisfaction to be had in it anymore.

What, then, constitutes triumph? A level of involvement seems key. An intense hatred. A biting betrayal. A desire for revenge. Extreme personal irritation. The icy coils of my tenticles have befouled many a living brain, but none so satisfying as I imagine it would be to crush what little thought there is from the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow's skull.

Happier endings are harder to come by, and so even more frustrating to entertain. Particularly when you are half octopus and your past is defined by tragedy and betrayal.

Were there some way--

No. There is nothing but disappointment to be gained for such freedom of thought.

The violent murder of those I despise the most is triumph enough. Anything more is too fatuous to be worth considering.

Tell you a secret? I see no reason to spill what remains of my soul into the public arena when there is nothing to be gained for my honesty. It should go without saying that secrets are not secrets if they are told -- they are common knowledge. Or they will be soon enough, when the rough moral temperature of this community is taken under consideration.

What is it exactly that you want to know? I have barnacles growing in places weaker men would weep to imagine, much less experience. Never mind the slime, and there are men on my ship that have more in common with shellfish than they do the average sailor.

If it’s emotion you’re after, I was once so deeply betrayed that I cut out my heart to ensure that I would never experience pain of that magnitude ever again. I was once a man. I had a purpose.

But I have always been a man to strike back when stricken, and even now I suffer for my inability to take heartbreak in stride. For the revenge I sought. For my refusal to be trodden upon without a struggle.

It may be argued that I deserve to be what I have become, but her fate is no less just.

And if ye cannot fathom what it is I am trying to say, then you are too stupid to be worth telling. That is as close to me telling a secret that anyone is ever going to get, and any caught asking for more of an explanation will ask for death before they dare foist their ignorance upon me again.

Never again to trust my heart.

If ever I was to win an award, I do not think it would be one to be proud of. Not one so bluster-worthy as to require a written entry in its name. And I'll certainly not be winning any beauty contests any time soon.

Even so.

In the running for "Most Inevitably Doomed Intimate Relationship," the odds would be in my favor, if only every relationship with a woman was not so rife with torment as to make my own narrow advantage completely inconsequential.

More realistically, I could easily declare myself the finest pirate captain in this world (or the next) and destroy any who dared to argue otherwise. However, captains being captains, and pirates being pirates, I would likely be forced to extinguish each and every one of them in a single fell swoop to be assured of their enduring silence. Effectively allowing me the distinction of being the only pirate captain left sailing, in addition to the finest, while furthermore leaving me and my sprightly crew at a loss for easy entertainment in the decade long stretches between ports.

When taking all of that into consideration, it seems wise to keep the achievement an unspoken one. I know it, and so do they. For now, at least, that is enough.

Ten years playing shepherd to souls lost at sea, one day ashore to make up for time lost. These were the the terms that my heart allowed itself to be bound to, only to find itself betrayed by the very heathen god who set them.

Now I keep it in an iron box where it can do no further harm.

I have abandoned my post, doomed to sail cursed for an eternity. A monster.

I am the sea a huge drama queen Davy Jones.

OOC: X-posted here at theatrical_fen.