Dáire love the island notoriously known has Nassau, he really did. But he felt it was about time he left the island and moved on to another. He could sense he was growing more enemies than friends and a few people by now had surely realised their belongings were missing since they met him, or they had been swindled. Either way the only good image he had made for himself, (which wasn't really that good in the end) was that he was a hard to get whore. He found this title extremely daft and irritating just to hear it. Seriously, hard to get whore? That doesn't even make sense, it's almost blasphemous to have the words whore and hard to get in the same sentence. But, Dáire had to admit he was picky about who he slept with sometimes. It wasn't as if anyone could just approach him and ask to bang, he'd only engage in sexual acts with another if he needed the money. If he was financially stable at the time of being asked, he'd coldly and flat out decline. Which didn't usually end well and seemed to cause confusion like 'but my friend just said he/she banged you the other night, said you're a top whore'. Dáire rolled his eyes at these memories.
This Gypsy didn't need to explain himself, nope, if he didn't want to fuck then that was that, why couldn't people understand that? Despite all that, he had decided to at least have one last drink at the local Tavern that was full of whores. Dáire didn't really look like a whore or look like he was asking for anything, he just dressed lightly because well, he couldn't really afford good quality, protective clothing. He was stuck with free flowing white, long sleeved shirts. He may as well be wearing a bed sheet really. Perhaps he should start pilfering more items of clothing instead of shiny, pretty, jewellery and belts. That was another thing he was covered in, many bangles and leather strap bracelets adorned his wrists, gradually bunching up along his arms. Three necklaces hung loosely around his neck, one looked quite tribal as the tooth of some animal was attached to it, the other two were simple chains, both junk really. A nose ring piercing of pure silver was prominent however, he liked this item the most. The over sized white, linen shirt slightly hung off his body lazily, only barely clinging to his shoulders; kept roughly tucked into the only decent piece of clothing on him, his dark, brown pants. They were warm and quite protective. Around his waist a large copper belt that clung to him as other smaller belts with intricate designed buckles half clung to his hip. Only just. His pants were tucked into boots that he wasn't really bothered to tie up properly.
Entering the Tavern as the sound of metal clanging lightly together entered with him, he looked around at all the patrons, he had quite soft facial features but the expression of someone not to mess with. When he wasn't look to get money, he most certainly did not look approachable at all. His mess of dark chocolate brown, long dreadlocks decorated his shoulders, his cold, brown eyes looking around for anyone who might look familiar that he might have stolen from. No one as far as he could see. A few people gave him a few odd looks, unsure of what he was really. He did have a bit of an otherworldly vibe about him and look. The Gypsy didn't like attention, made him feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. He was far too cautious for his own good, made it very difficult to relax.
Dáire nonchalantly made his across the room and to the hard, wooden counter accompanied by a stool which he seated himself on. He didn't want to look a cautious as he felt. "Give me the strongest poison ya got." Dáire didn't feel like anything specific, he was feeling like shit and just wanted to drink until he forgot who he was. This wasn't the first time he'd done this though, you'd think he'd learn from the last time that it didn't end well. Perhaps he'd wake up outside, on the hard, cold ground, dirty and feeling like shit, couple of bruises hear and here, shake it off. Move on. That's life.
His drink of what people tended to call alcohol was shortly given to him, he paid up, and just as he took a mouthful of the beverage, he felt something hard hit him on the back. Dáire jolted forward, causing what ever he was drinking to go down wrong. He spluttered, gradually collecting himself before turning around where he sat to see what caused him choking on his drink. The Gypsy shot daggers at the figure "What the fuck?! Do you mi-" He stopped. Dáire instantly went pale and gulped.
"Remember me, Dáire?" Oh yes, he remembered this asshole. He tried not to but his ugly face was plastered in his mind.
"What do you want." Dáire snapped.
"Oh come on, don't be like that, we got history ya know?" The man spoke so coyly, it got on Dáire's nerves.
"No. We don't. you fucked me once, that's it, go find some whore upstairs to get your grotty hands on." He really didn't want to talk with this guy. All he could do was give blunt answers and hope he'd go away. The guy was some shitty pirate that Dáire used to get from one side of the ocean to another. It was a long, painful trip. The price was quite high, he was like a little show and tell item to the crew, something to amuse themselves with, in any way they wanted. Which Dáire had foolishly agreed to as long as no harm came to him, which it did. This was a very long time ago and he felt so stupid for it. But he wouldn't be here if it weren't for that moment in his life. He made sure to borrow many of the Captain's precious belongings, them sell them for a pretty penny.
Dáire turned back around in his seat, turning his back to the pirate Captain who he had completely forgotten the name of, he had his own nickname for him for his own personal amusement. "You owe me Dáire." His voice turned dark and Dáire felt uneasy. The presence of the pirate felt strong and he suddenly felt the man was closer as his dreadlocks were moved aside from his left ear and the stinking breath of the pirate wafted up Dáire's nose. "Don't think I've forgotten, it's taken me a long time to track you down and I'm going to make you pay." Dáire gritted his teeth together, he hated it when people touched any inch of him without his permission. In a burst of anger he elbowed the pirate the stood behind him with much force, plunging his bony elbow into what partly felt like his gut and half his ribs. A loud groan of pain filled his ears as the man stumbled before falling on his ass with a thump onto the hard wooden floor boards. Dáire didn't look it, but when he was mad, he had a lot of strength. "I'll fucking kill you Dáire!" Oh he was embarrassed now as he got up onto his feet and glared at him. Dáire sculled the rest of his drink, wiped his mouth the his sleeve before getting out of his seat. A lot of eyes were on him now as they stared in disbelief, he wasn't as weak as he looked.
"I don't owe you shit." Dáire was fierce and had had enough of this guy as he began rolling up his sleeves."You want to fight I'll give you a damn fight you piece of horse shit." He needed to calm down but it was a bit hard now that the idiot of a pirate had riled him up.