soulofasavagesea

[soulofasavagesea]

character aesthetic

BOLD what applies. REPOST, don’t reblog.

I. THE FAIRY. chipped nail polish. glitter highlight. tall trees with smooth bark. tangled hair.the taste of cinnamon sugar. talking too loud and too fast. overgrown flowers in your hair. crumbling buildings reclaimed by nature. flirting. walking home at 3am with no coat.platonic hand-holding. blowing smoke out of your nose. dragonfly wings. chaotic good.freckles. fairy rings. secret meetings. gender nonconformity. leather. smudged eyeliner.forbidden fruit.

II. THE REAPER. computer errors. a shiver down your spine. haunting beauty. hard liquor. crowns of thorns. shadowed alleyways. decaying plant matter. shattered mirrors and broken glass. corrupted memories. stopped clocks. the scent of stale cigarettes. tattered black hoodies. walking your friends home. the crescent moon. the sea. a graveyard on a foggy day. cold rings on cold fingers. absolution.  looking out the window of an airplane. soft kisses.

III. THE WITCH. graffiti. pretending to know what you’re doing. worn paperback books.growing up too fast. parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. lace and combat boots.moth wings. candles on every surface. a weathered deck of cards. turning the music up. fireflies in jars. calloused fingers. drawing on your skin. sunlight filtering through clouds. petrichor. a dying rose in a jar. wearing a crystal pendant. illusions and spells. black cats. mint gum.chapped lips. dirt under your fingernails. the cycle of life and death.

IV. THE WOLF. murders of crows. frost-bitten leaves. wolves howling at midnight. knocking on your door. leaving food out for stray animals. the twang of an acoustic guitar. honey. tiny red buds on trees. claw marks on the walls. golden eyes. slightly too long stubble.sharp canines. soft, thick fur. hunger. a small cottage in the middle of the woods. knitted fingerless gloves. sleeping on the forest floor. always finding your way back home.

[soulofasavagesea]

      PLEASE, REBLOG THIS IF YOU’RE AN INDIE RPER WITH A LGBT MUSE.

[soulofasavagesea]

Their lips twitched as they let him vent - a wry understanding curve as they nodded. Truly, his worries weren’t so alien, despite the crown and kingdom upon his shoulders. how many nights had Faris spent tossing and turning, and troubling themselves over what was right for their men? Or their families?

It was inevitable, in piracy that men died. Inevitable and yet, so very feared, and Faris had spent a good many years worrying themselves away after they’d claimed captaincy. To see it reflected in this king was.. validation they hadn’t realised they needed. 

“It’s an easy thing t’ do, let y’ mind run in circles. And I doubt you’ll like the advice I can offer, but,” A sigh, a smile. “Talking helps. Having one person y’ can confide in just t’ get y’ thoughts out fully. Or a journal. I’ll admit t’ keeping one.

“But duty vs wants - that’s a.... dangerous game.” They took another swig from the flask, before leaving it in reach of him. “One that ne’er ends well regardless o’ what y’ choose.”

soulofasavagesea‌:

His scepticism was so plain it was almost painful. But he drank, and that was a start. 

Sitting back in their chair they gave him a long, hard look. “Depends on why you’ve been sleepless. Work, assholes, worries or women - or men, should they take y’ fancy?” 

It pained them to boil it down so crassly, but often they found any manner of problems could be boiled down to the above. “Each has an answer, but some I’m sure y’ ain’t going t’ like. As f’ me, I learned early on t’ lock m’ door and nap every fucking minute the gods send.”

          “Well, it wouldn’t be a lie to say that all of those things are on my mind right now.”

Typical that he should prove to be so bloody difficult, but it’s tough to put it all down to one single thing. He takes another drink and hunches over, leaning in closer to better engage with his unlikely confidant.

          “–But perhaps I can narrow it down to just worrying too much about, well…            Everything. Things I want for myself, things the people need, my family’s            needs. All of my goals conflict with one another and I know the ones I should            prioritise and put before anything else. But it doesn’t mean that I necessarily            want to.”

Duty… Bah. What a pain in the arse. Can’t a man be selfish for a change?

[soulofasavagesea]

His scepticism was so plain it was almost painful. But he drank, and that was a start. 

Sitting back in their chair they gave him a long, hard look. “Depends on why you’ve been sleepless. Work, assholes, worries or women - or men, should they take y’ fancy?” 

It pained them to boil it down so crassly, but often they found any manner of problems could be boiled down to the above. “Each has an answer, but some I’m sure y’ ain’t going t’ like. As f’ me, I learned early on t’ lock m’ door and nap every fucking minute the gods send.”

soulofasavagesea‌:

God he acted like Lenna. 

“Y’ know nae every problem need be borne alone, aye? I dinnae know y’ from fucking Adam, ne’er will again. Speak about it in vague terms and I might actually ha’ useful advice, y’ ken?”

Shaking their head, they took out a flask - taking a sip from it (see, not poisoned, y’ big blundering pretty arse), only to hold it out him as they swallowed. 

“I find kings and captains are kin folk, more oft than not. f’ all a kings problems affect us all.”

          “Oh… Are we, now?”

Skeptical, Ed takes the offered flask and tips it toward the other in thanks, still able to remember his good manners. He steals a good, long swig of its contents, and swallows it down with a wrinkled nose. It’s not to his particular tastes, but so long as it does the trick, he shan’t openly complain and throw the good Captain’s generosity back in their face.

          “Tell me, do men of the sea have any good remedies for a sleepless            night or three? Save for bashing my head into the nearest wall, I can’t            think of anything else that may help.”

[soulofasavagesea]

thewildchilds-howl

Gau flinched from the tone of their voice, backing up a step. He didn’t expect them to be so protective of their food. Even still, he understood. He’d had to do the same on the Veldt to keep from starving.

“Just taste? Please?” He tried again, his voice shaking oh so slightly.

They sighed, facing on those sad eyes like one might steel themselves against a kracken.

It was no use.

All at once they sagged, holding out the bowl to him. “Go on then y’ wee monster.”

[soulofasavagesea]

The ringing of that metronome was the perfect counterpoint to the shallowed breath in the room, the sharp tang of fear and curiosity heady on the tongue. And familiar. 

They grinned. 

It was no quick flash of teeth, instead it was slow and shark like, sharp and inviting the way only a rocky inlet or a rugged waterfall could be. Jump it said. Jump and tear yourself to shreds. 

“Yes.” Rouke let out an unsteady breath. 

“But I wasn’t the first. First was Dunblane - gun hand and powder monkey. Drawn in by the bell. I watch him climb over the railings and drop - down, down and gone, below the waves.

“The moment he touched them the stillness was gone - the water roiled and rolled like a great heaving beast. And with each man who flung himself over board it’s anger only grew. 

“The beast still watching from afar.

“Watching, waiting, consuming - bodies dragged towards it by great arms and tendrils that cut through the water, dragging m’ comrades in. They’d twitch and gurgle and then came the awful noise of rending skin.”

They licked their lips, mouth dry from the telling and took a swig of their ale. “Then Doc lumbered from th’ infirmary, knife still in his hands and I watched as he climbed upon that rail - a man close as any father might be t’ me.” A small, quiet murmur of agreement sounded from the back -the man older now, grey with it, but giving weight to the truth of the tail.

“And when he jumped, so did I.”

Songs and Sharp Tongues

[soulofasavagesea]

Goddamnit - the pose came complete with puppy eyes. It was damn unnerving. 

“No! This is mine and I aint feeding y’ scraps from th’ table,” They hissed, hoisting it higher and pointedly eating a spoonful. “Do y’ know how much gil fresh fruit costs?!”

thewildchilds-howl replied to your post ““I’m going to sit here and eat this entire bowl of fruit and honey and…”

“Food?” :3c

“Ah shit – fuck– where did you?!”

Looking around they moved their bowl away from the boy. “I should o’ known food would summon y’.”

[soulofasavagesea]

God he acted like Lenna. 

“Y’ know nae every problem need be borne alone, aye? I dinnae know y’ from fucking Adam, ne’er will again. Speak about it in vague terms and I might actually ha’ useful advice, y’ ken?”

Shaking their head, they took out a flask - taking a sip from it (see, not poisoned, y’ big blundering pretty arse), only to hold it out him as they swallowed. 

“I find kings and captains are kin folk, more oft than not. f’ all a kings problems affect us all.”

soulofasavagesea‌:

They looked at him with blatant disbelief, lips curling into something unbearably snide. “Uh-huh, and kingdoms ha’ fallen t’ fleas.”

Uninvited they sat, kicking the chair around to face Figaro’s young king. “Somethings eating at y’ crown lad. What gives?”

And cue the eye-roll. The sarcasm doesn’t help his foul mood much, and he openly sulks before the Captain, chin propped upon his palm.

          “What will talking about it amount to, save for potential blackmail content?            Pah! I’m not feeling anywhere close to drunk enough for that.”

[soulofasavagesea]

thewildchilds-howl replied to your post ““I’m going to sit here and eat this entire bowl of fruit and honey and...”

"Food?" :3c

“Ah shit -- fuck-- where did you?!”

Looking around they moved their bowl away from the boy. “I should o’ known food would summon y’.”

[soulofasavagesea]

“I’m going to sit here and eat this entire bowl of fruit and honey and none o’ y’all chicken shits can stop me.”

[soulofasavagesea]

They looked at him with blatant disbelief, lips curling into something unbearably snide. “Uh-huh, and kingdoms ha’ fallen t’ fleas.”

Uninvited they sat, kicking the chair around to face Figaro’s young king. “Somethings eating at y’ crown lad. What gives?”

soulofasavagesea‌:

“Alright, alright - keep y’ fucking hair on!”

          “If you didn’t cause me so much undue stress, my hair wouldn’t be falling out!”

This King has more stresses than the Dear Captain on his mind, but sure – he’ll blame them for the inevitable hair loss instead.

[soulofasavagesea]

Twelve? And here Locke thought Widge was young. Was this the sort of life Faris had been born into? He supposed the Captain had to be skilled if he managed to stay alive this long. Locke hoped to learn a great deal about Faris by the end of this.

As Faris continued to speak, Locke took inventory of their crew. Rouke, to be sure, seemed to be the most intimidating of the lot. But his eyes were keen. He didn’t swing a sword carelessly. There were others in the room that Locke would have to be more careful around. Pirates, as a rule, were bloodthirsty, but these all seemed to fall in line at Faris’s quietest hiss. For now.

Sitting back, legs crossed at the ankles, Locke listened patiently to the tale. When Faris’s bell tolled, he added flavor by pinging the lip of his mug.

Ting… ting… ting… And he grinned.

Eyes alight and dancing, Faris turned to him, a smile tugging at their lips. He was a fair player, that was to be sure, all drama and excess and easy smiles. Well, they could play with that for a night. 

“There’s tales among the sailors from the east, of dark spirits that roll through the deepest waters. They dinnae steal th’ hearts o’ men, nor do they grant bounty unto their captor -- no, these spirits steal that which no man would ever give, they consume flesh, and lock mind and soul away unto a watered grave. 

“And as I stood there, that night, with the mists about me and that bell upon the air, I saw it.” They paused, tasting the tension in the room as every man quieted, nursing his drink and simply listened. 

“There was nae head, nor feet - least not th’ kind o’ thing that humans understand. It dragged it’s self over still waters, like a wounded man on glass, and all the while that sound got louder.” 

Songs and Sharp Tongues

[soulofasavagesea]

machinistictendencies replied to your post “Like for a starter”

this is late bc i was busy earlier in the week, but-- *AGGRESSIVE SHOUTING* it you!

“Alright, alright - keep y’ fucking hair on!”

[soulofasavagesea]

thepricewasright

Widge’s enthusiasm made Locke’s grin grow wider. There was no better endorsement than the enthusiasm of a youngster. Leaning forward, Locke said, “Sure, let’s hear it. I’ve seen a couple of those things myself, mind, so you better make it impressive.”

The ‘Siren’ Locke knew was no common creature of the sea, however. Strange to grow up and realize that the creatures in the tales his grandmother told him were actually espers, from before the schism. What about in other worlds? Were they also constrained to myth and rumor, when they walked the earth just as any mortal did?

There was always a nugget of truth in these tales, which is why sailors and wives both told them. They taught lessons. The question for Locke was always, ‘Which lesson am I meant to learn here?’

“Generally ‘dinnae jump int’ a raging whirlpool wi’ out knowing whats there’,” Faris grumbled, huffing in laughter as they rose their glass. Somewhere, two tables over, Rouke snorted in derision. 

“If only you learned from your own advice, C’ptain!”

“Oi! Did I ask f’ back sass y’ lily livered hopscotched fuck muppet--” Several of the men about them tittered as the Quartermaster flipped his illustrious captain the bird.

“It was on th’ waters beyond Tycoon, where the depths o’ the Alian Sea meet th’ great, vast darkness o’ the water between oceans, where the currents run rough and deep,and yet the waves lie still as a looking glass,” Their voice left them at a low croon, the faintness of it added to their gravity, and yet they weren’t so quiet they could not be heard. Instead, voice almost a whisper, they commanded the crowd: A seasoned story teller.  “I was scarce twelve summers old, peering through th’ fog that was thick all about us. Too young t’ be swayed by sirens, too tall t’ load the guns. I was look out, safe up in the crows nest, when the sound began about us -- “The gentle tolling o’ a bell.”

Songs and Sharp Tongues

[soulofasavagesea]

“Your replacement, Aye?”

A wicked grin and the captain laughed. 

@SoulOfASavageSea

A salt water soul, and a legacy of dragons make a pirate, but blood bonds and a misplaced sense of rebellion? Those make a King.

Captain Faris is here to play

like/follow/reblog/recruit to your party

[soulofasavagesea]

They laughed then - full body guffaws that had patrons turning to look with startled eyes, until the captains shoulder shook with snickers. 

His wide eyed look of disgust was down right comical, the boy looking more akin to a startled octopus than ought else. At least he hadn’t spat it every where.

Smile quieting, they reached out and snagged up the mug, raising it in the air “Ess, a water if y’ will!” The woman behind the bar chuffed, rolling her eyes with her own gentle grin.  “Aye just give me a minute, y’ damn rascal!” She countered, pouring pints. “I’ve only two hands.”

“Two very lovely, very quick hands,” Faris whispered to Gau conspiratorially, knowing full well if Ess heard them they’d be clapped upside the ears. “Sorry lad, it’s popular wi’ the kids your age, I simply figured you’d like it.”

soulofasavagesea

“Gau, y’ say…”

He was a spritely thing, to be sure, brash and bonnie as the day was long, with no sense of fear to speak of. Boys. Their lips twitched, the smile curling across them all the more broadly at the face he pulled at the tankard.

“It’s cordial, lad - they wouldnae let even me feed y’ alcohol. I can get y’ plain water if you’d like?” It was an idle offer, they were far too comfortable in their chair, watching this boy be utterly, stupidly charming.

“And it’s called an accent. Tulian. T’ me maybe you sound funny, aye?”

“Faris no laugh when Gau talk.” The boy pointed out, glancing back into the cup. He stared at the liquid inside, tilting it around. After a moment of contemplating  he put it to his mouth and took a sip. His eyes instantly widened as he did, reeling his head back. He managed to swallow what little he’d actually drank, his mouth sputtering as he shook his head, shoving the cup away from him.

“Gau no like cord, cord not taste good!” Gau dramatically stuck his tongue out as he spoke. 

[soulofasavagesea]

thepricewasright

“A place like this?” Locke said, raising a brow. “I thought this was the dress code.”

The implication in his lack of concern was clear: he wasn’t afraid of any of these people. Nor did Faris make him nervous, though he showed them the respect due. Once his mug got topped off, he raised the glass to them and smiled in appreciation. “The rule is, if you interrupt a story, you gotta provide a better one. Or is the Captain exempt from the rules?”

Indeed, there was something familiar about Faris. Though Locke had traveled far and met many people, and he occasionally got that twitch of deja vu when he met a stranger. It may inspire him to take liberties with people that he shouldn’t. Or perhaps he was just foolhardy as a general rule.

Regardless, he’d already studied the Captain and the way their men deferred to them. They weren’t the tyrannical sort, it seemed.

It was almost as though he thoughts himself charming - cute. A huff of amusement escaped them. The lad was far too comfortable in a room full of pirates armed tot he teeth, their Quartermaster alone scared most off simply through his size. Yet Locke seemed unphased, even as their fingers played idly over the hilt of their sword, before, conceding, Faris drew them away. 

“Generally, by word and code, the Captain is held t’ the rules just like any other.” A few of their men laughed, eager encouragement and agreement. They’d fight together and they’d, one day, hang together. “But tell me lad, am I constrained t’ tall tales o’ hell alone, and monsters? Or would y’ care t’ listen o’ a thing most men dinnae ken. O’ sirens and dragons and th’ spirits that move on the waters at night?”

Widge - their bilge rat -tittered, leaning close to one of the powder monkeys. “Oh fuck, I love this one!”

Songs and Sharp Tongues