They called her Pirate B., and the “B” stood for nothing they could prove.
At its peak, a massive portion of all global internet traffic flowed through TPB's trackers. pirate b
His face is a roadmap of violence. A distinct, jagged scar runs from his left temple down to his jawline—a souvenir from a failed mutiny he personally quelled. His most striking feature, however, is his teeth; his canines are capped in tarnished iron, giving him a metallic, jagged grin that glints in the lantern light. He smells of stale rum, wet dog, and gunpowder. They called her Pirate B
He despised the rigid class structure of the Navy and eventually led a violent counter-mutiny, turning the ship over to a pirate syndicate. He served under three different captains before meeting his current superior. It is whispered that he keeps a small jar of dirt from his home island around his neck, though anyone who has asked him about it has not lived to hear the answer. A distinct, jagged scar runs from his left
She didn’t fly the black Jolly Roger. Her flag was a tattered blue field with a single golden letter B , stitched crookedly by her own hand at fourteen, the night she burned her foster home to the waterline.
Not gold. Not jewels.