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Pirate's Log, Twenty-Fourth o' June
Welcome to Paradise, my brothers and sisters.
It's been three months since I was thrown off that damnable ship, cast into the ocean to fend for myself. I was going to die. But then... I saw it. The most beautiful thing I've seen in my entire life... Land. Not just land, but a whole island. A real, live, tropical island. I swam to it, loving it, embracing it. The primitive life forms on the island were easily whipped into submission with the pistol I managed to sneak with me. It took but one shot to turn a thriving primitive society into a collection of servants bound to my will. My first order of business was to create a beacon of some sort... a place for others stranded in the ocean to come to. A Paradise. My Paradise. OUR Paradise. It worked, and the people came in droves. It was... awkward at times, seeing as the man I caused to fall was the first to come, but we were gentlemen about it. After a brief scuffle (we... decided it was a draw.), the topic was never brought up again. I built a dock, and more advanced housing. I turned the place into a real paradise. The local people revered us as gods, for we had where they had not. Is it wrong to use slave labor to make a Paradise? I'm sorry, I can't hear your question over servants waiting on me hand and foot 24/7.
Not even a month after I was cast off, the ship I cursed came into my port. I had the locals surround it, preparing to kill the inhabitants, but was greeted by none other than the old Mutiny leader himself, Ol' Sax! Ha ha, the silver-tongued bastard nearly got himself killed, and now he comes up to port wit' a Captain's hat? It was almost too good to be true. Naturally, quite a few folks died in the rebellion, but it was for a good cause. The fellows are drinking makeshift rum in the makeshift inn, resting a bit before taking to the seas once more. I don't think I'll be joinin' them this time. I'm glad I went, and I do love the sea, but I can't just give up on Paradise now. A few of the others are staying as well, some because they're tired, some because they want to live in Paradise, and some just because they can't stand the new leader, may he find rest in Davy John's locker. I don't much care anymore, frankly. We're all a big, pop flyin' family. Mutie or Matey, it doesn't matter here. The bad blood fell to the waters with the Ol Cap' in's corpse. Here, we're all brothers and sisters.
Welcome to Paradise.
-Darkin, Fair Lass
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