His charcoal brown eyes wavered sleepily at the nozzle of one empty rum bottle just before he forced his drunken head to rise from the hay bed he had fashioned. He may had lived on the stuff, but he had reason for drinking until black out. His fortunes were not so fortunate, as it turned out when his proclaimed mission for searching for one said map. But it all ended in misery. Perhaps, not too bad, gladly. He would always sink into depression when his one joy would eventually run out.

"Rum's gone. Again. How original." the lone pirate captain gruffly coughed out before he threw the old empty glass away. "Sad habit. Can live without it. But hardly."

Now, an escape was in order for this sad state of affairs, since he was…no doubt locked away again. But it seemed to not trifle with him this time around. But to restore his precious vessel which now lied in the hands of one Joshamee Gibbs who was now shanghaied onto an East India Trading Company ship, he had to rely on himself as of now.

By now, Sparrow had gotten to his feet and peered warily through the cell bars to sight any victims for his foolery. Slightly disappointed, Jack settled his tricorn hat firmly upon his brow before he gazed back to the wall which seemed so insignificent. He was a long way away from success, but he was a stubborn ass. He would never give up so easily. He knelt rather awkwardly as to retrieve something that was cutting his leg within his thick boot, which happened to have been a concealed knife. Quietly, if he could be, he sawed through the lining between two bricks on the wall. The bloody thing was loose and he was able to catch a spit of light through there. But when he heard keys shift, Sparrow scrambled against the wall and acted lifeless. Yet that sound never came again and he attempted once more with a brutal strike to the brick with his elbow. Despite his right arm going deathly numb for the moment, he looked through once the brick had fallen out. Yonder he was able to see the shore line. Knocking that brick out was not in vain. He had to configure a plan of escape and he had not known exactly where he was. But seeing that he was near the sea now, things were turning to his favor so far.

Neglecting his smuggled bottle, he concealed his precious knife back into his boot, despite the consequence it had caused. His dirtied hand now stained with his own blood, he got up and went to the square bars. Thanks to a past ally, he dragged the stool toward the bars. With the perfect leverage and a fine kick to it, the hinges were lifted and there went the door, which had tumbled down violently, causing a racket. His effects were taken, sadly enough. He had no shot, no cutlass and no spirit to help him along with a non gruff mood.

His devoted want to live forever had lessened since the whole Blackbeard fiasco. He dropped all his selfishness that fateful day, just to spare her. He cared for Angelica that much, despite that she was hating him for the trick he devised. He, for once, did not regret it. She did not deserve a death like that and her old husk of a father never did care for her. He got rid of one less evil in this world.

Even now, he was no less free yet. He had an ugly path to follow in order to embrace his raven black vessel again. The ship had gone through Hell, literally, yet he had debated if she was truly worth saving again. He still that a piece of himself was missing. But he had to dwell on that later before he was to be sliced at again. It did not take too long until he was noticed by a dozy guard.

"Aye, you!" came a call from down the corridor.

Sparrow sleepily staggered before spying the fragile window beside him. Again with his elbow, he shattered the window just as the shot was heard. A hole in his jacket, he could fare with that as he climbed out onto the side of the prison, but if he should fall….

"Prisonor's escaped!" came an outcry.

Sparrow kept his back to the wall, avoiding the trap of looking down. There was just enough room for his footing to settle, but when he sighted deep water below, he made a leap. He fell down when shots sparked out at him, just seconds before he plummeted into the dock side. As heavy as his wear was, he swam beneath the dock to avoid the bullets. As he swam, feeling the sting of the cut on his leg, he soon realized that something was off here. He saw blood in the water and it wasn't his own.

A brown mass of whatever it was seemed to want to snag him and he kicked it away as he tried to bob up for air.

Shrill, unnavigating stirrings, I'd rather be hung. What the hell be this? The frazzled drunkard pirate seemed to think to himself.

Of what had grabbed a firm hold onto his boot was a torn net and connected to it was a brown mass and the weight was overbearing. But more muskets were being shot. Now was not a good time for an extra worry to be added to his agenda.

With a knife on his person, he took it and began to saw through the thick line as he was sinking. This and the weight of his effects, along with himself, this would not have a fair turn out. In good time though, the captain was free and he was able to get his well deserved gasp for air. Inhaling some of the salted sea, he coughed and spat as he tried to gather his bearings.

"Bugger!" he cursed before he twisted his head about seeing the English soldiers raid the roads in search for him.

"Fine thing to know that I am still famous. And loved. Fine way to express said love these days." he panted as he swam to shallow waters.

But as he swam, he had failed to notice of the blood which poisoned the water and the brown mass down below was actually a seal skin….

The foul scent of death made the drunken man gag as he soon got a good grip on some rock and soon got a chance to see the reason for misfortune. There was blood in the water. Very lovely. Uneasy, he soon got himself firm and pulled himself out of the water. He had seen many unearthly things and he had his fair share of a curse or two, but blood in the sea was an ugly sign. He pushed himself out before his hand landed on something roughened and soft. It felt lively.

"Guh!" he let out before he saw what he was basically sitting on.

It was a fresh, soft skin…of a sea lion.