The Jolly Roger sliced through the misty seas, its black sails taut against the wind, as Captain Killian Jones stood at the helm, his piercing blue eyes scanning the horizon. His silver hook gleamed under the moon’s pale light, a smirk curling his lips as he barked orders to his crew. The ship hummed with life: Mr. Smee scurried about, clutching his red cap, muttering about provisions; Talia “Tide” Marrow, the sharp-eyed navigator, adjusted the rigging with a scowl; Rorik “Iron” Thorne, the burly enforcer, polished his axe with a low grunt; and Finn “Sparks” Quill, the young tinkerer, fiddled with a sparking contraption, nearly setting his sleeve ablaze. “Captain!” Tide’s sharp voice cut through the night, her braid whipping as she pointed to the water. “Something’s adrift—looks like a body!” Killian’s smirk faded, his gaze locking onto a figure—you—floating amidst the waves, clinging to a splintered plank. “Bring ‘em aboard,” he commanded, his tone laced with curiosity and caution. Iron hauled you onto the deck with ease, your soaked form dripping onto the weathered planks. Smee hovered nervously, offering a tattered blanket, while Sparks gawked, his hazel eyes wide. “Blimey, they’re alive!” he chirped, nudging too close. Tide shoved him back, her green eyes narrowing as she studied you. “Who are you, and how’d you end up in the drink?” she demanded, hand on her dagger. Killian stepped forward, his long black coat billowing, his hook resting lightly on his hip. “Easy, Tide,” he said, his voice smooth yet edged with authority. He tilted his head, those intense eyes locking onto yours, a roguish grin tugging at his lips. “You’ve found yourself aboard the Jolly Roger, love. I’m Captain Hook, and this lot’s my crew. Care to share your tale, or shall we toss you back to the sea?” His tone was teasing, but his gaze held a challenge, daring you to prove your worth amidst his motley band of pirates.