Chapter Text
Israel Hands is having another terrible day when his luck finally changes.
Over the past year, life had been unkind to Izzy, and he's honestly surprised to still be alive, to say the least. Not that he's been really living lately. Just... surviving. And barely even that.
For the past nearly three decades, Izzy was Blackbeard's First Mate, one of the most feared men on the seas. He was the best swordsman around and loyal to a fault. Izzy had always believed he would die at sea protecting his Captain, but he'd never expected that very same Captain to be his downfall.
Blackbeard had officially lost his mind. Izzy has never found out what happened to cause it but it was he who was forced to deal with the consequences. It was all very unfair, in his opinion.
A few months ago, Blackbeard returned from port drunk and angry, more angry than Izzy had ever seen him. Before he could say more than a word, a gunshot rang out on deck and Izzy dropped to it, fell. Blackbeard shot him. Why? He still doesn't know and likely will never find out.
Luckily the crew had some small amount of loyal to him, or else that might've been the end of Izzy's sad story.
Instead, his leg was lost to the sea, and Izzy was left on land, no longer a part of the crew where he'd made his life.
He's tried making a new life for himself on land, for a while anyway. He went to Jackie's and asked about working for her, but she took one look at his leg, his missing leg, and shook her head. He tried his hand at an inn, and a hostel, and even at the markets by the beach. Nobody would take him. Izzy's learned quickly that there isn't much use for a one-legged pirate on land, or at sea for that matter.
He misses his leg, yes, but he misses having a purpose just as much.
When his money is running low and his name is worth barely anything, Izzy finally realizes he's run out of other options. See, Izzy has a secret, one that he has never told anyone for fear that they would exploit it or use it against him. He just hopes it will be enough to keep him alive.
Izzy Hands can turn into a dog at will. It's a full transformation, meaning he's either completely human or completely canine, although he does keep some of the same traits in both forms. For instance, he can hear incredibly well, things that the average human can not. He can even see in the dark, albeit not quite as good as when he's a dog.
Izzy isn't really sure why or how, only that he was born this way and he can faintly remember his mother changing into a dog as well so he assumes it was hereditary.
Despite him keeping this a secret for about forty years, Izzy actually likes being a dog. He likes the way the wind feels through his fur when he runs, the way his paws feel on the ground. Being a dog brings him joy like he's rarely felt in his life.
Izzy hasn't transformed since he lost his leg, since long before that even. It's been a few years, mostly due to safety concerns but also due to his constant fear of someone finding out. It's not necessarily easy to defend himself on four legs, even with his sharp teeth and claws.
Whatever breed of dog he is, Izzy's small with short legs and while he can run fast, he stands little chance in a fight.
But now... now he has to face reality. There's nothing else for him to try as a human and if he wants to stay alive - and he does, he wants to live - this is his last option.
So. Izzy finds a quiet stretch of the beach, hidden as safely as he can get behind an outcropping of large rocks and trees. He takes off the table leg which he's used as a makeshift prosthetic to get around the island. He hates that thing, if he's honest. It isn't comfortable, could barely hold his weight. Good riddance, he thinks.
Next he takes off his clothes, folding them neatly in case he's able to return for them at some point. He doubts it but that's okay. Maybe it's time for a fresh start for him.
The only thing he can't bear to leave behind is his mother's ring, so he loops his cravat around his neck like a bandana and tightly knots the ring into it. That should stay on him, he thinks, even as a dog.
Then Izzy sits in the sand and closes his eyes.
The transformation is quick, to his relief. It hurts, of course it does, tearing his muscles and rearranging his bones. It's always felt awful, but now it feels a bit like coming home, too.
When it's done, Izzy lays in the sand panting, waiting for the pain to subside before he takes stock of himself.
His fur is the usual greying black, with perhaps more grey than the last time he'd seen it. His front left paw is missing a single toe, taken from him by Blackbeard not long before he lost his mind. Izzy leans on it, testing the paw, and it holds strong. Thank fuck.
In his human body, that missing toe is long gone, taken off with the leg that nearly killed him. He supposes it makes sense that the missing toe would still affect his canine body though, seeing as like this he has more toes to lose.
What he's not prepared for, however, is the missing hind leg on his left side. It saddens him deeply and he takes a moment to mourn the leg that should be there, the phantom pain of it aching heavily. There's nothing to be done for it but accept and move on, even though he doesn't want to.
Izzy takes a deep breath to refocus himself, feeling as his chest expands and his fur rustles. He's going to be okay.
His stomach grumbles and he remembers that he hasn't eaten in a few days. At least Izzy has a plan to follow through with. He'd better get started.