#it hurts my soul cap'n

[unlimitedgolden]

I wish to acquire knowledge about funny green deer man, quick list your ten favourite tidbits about the character or the Soil Charge Triad to use on you will be decided

⏱️

you've activated my toontown sleeper agent (I NEED TO PLAY IT AGAIN) This is gonna be long so I'll put the reading thing HERE

Dr. Zippety Wonderwhatsit (Just "Zip" for short) was not a generated name, it was handcrafted. "Dr." because I like mad doctor characters, "Zippety" somewhat in reference to "Zebedee" from "The Magic Roundabout", "Wonderwhatsit" to mimic when people say "whatchamacallit", and just shortened to Zip sometimes for peoples sanity.

He was just intended to be a Toontownsona, but has actually now become my fursona. In doing so he's replaced Fatlip, my previous fursona (Though I still cherish Fatlip, since he was made by an old friend I'll never see again)

Zip gets paired with a few of the different characters in TTCC. You've probably seen him with Buck Ruffler and Alton S. Crow, but Dave Brubot is the 3rd addition to his collection of Robot Wives. Zip is also paired with my boyfriends Toon "Cap'n Snappy Gigglesnout". With this, I hope it's obvious Zip is polyamorous!!

Zip does have a sibling, my sisters Toon "Little Pearl" (the kiwi). Though to explain why they're different species and still related? TL;DR what happens when a toon and a cog fall in love + headcanons on how Toons are "born" (drawn into existence) and Zip is the result of a joke, Little Pearl had more thought.

The first gags Zip had were "squirt" and "drop". For Clash players you're probably screaming at the top of your lungs for this combo and in my defence: I thought it was really funny.

A majority of the time you will NOT find Zip without a hat in game, but in art I draw him with nothing added on. This is because he looks so bald in game it hurts my soul. You'll also never find him without those shades, I've never taken them off since the moment I put them on

Zip has influenced both my internet and irl life. During my last hospitalisation I had "toontown fixation withdrawls" and recreated him in Splatoon out of desperation. After that he influenced the decision of getting circle glasses just so I could get matching circle shades, and my favourite sets of clothes that I have bought since his creation are all shades of green (a.k.a my VFX classes worst nightmare). This also means after years of not knowing my favourite colour, it's blatantly obvious what I like now

Zip, like me, is British. Just like me the angrier he gets the more British he sounds (going from "oh my god fuck off die" to "You fucking wanker piss of you tosser. dickhead"

A little ramble: Zip is probably so intertwined with myself because of transgender metaphors. I've seen deers used as trans metaphors with the whole antlers thing, either losing them (mtf) or gaining them (ftm). Sometimes I forget to draw him with antlers but I feel it fits his entire [waves hands] trans thing

FINAL FACT: Zip takes a GREAT PRIDE in his house. It is very well decorated and usually changes around with the seasons (e.g. changing wallpapers to match halloween/christmas). In typing this I realise I've missed a bunch of catalogues in game <- will never recover

OK THATS ALL I THINK <- still could talk more he feels

[transsweet]

a rewrite of something from a while ago

the three's apartment was completely silent, save for the sounds of the night time cyber city and the quiet pacing of a speaker headed darkner in the room of its roommates.

sweet paced around the small sleeping space, trying to get its thoughts straight, trying to think clearly. trying to rationalize, trying to understand.

the words that played over and over in its head, though...

"don't you get it?! i cant trust you!!"

the words...

"youre nothing but trouble, sweet.

...stung. they still stung.

the fight from earlier, specifically between them and one of their roommates, capn, had left nothing but a sour, broken note in their SOUL. the way he sounded so sure of himself, the way his fists had shaken with rage, like he'd wanted to tell them this for so long. almost like...

maybe, he's...

sweet sighed, their plug tail flicking in discomfort.

maybe k_k could help with all this, theyre always the mediator of the two's squabbles.

as sweet quietly opened the door to an unlit apartment, they ventured out into the living room only to find k_k comfortably asleep on the couch.

sweet stared at their gentle sleepy smile longer than theyd like to admit. once they awoke from their trance, they took one of the throw blankets from a drawer and placed it over the cd player.

snapping them out of their flow, though, was the sound of a lighter flicking on the apartment balcony.

sweet knew.

they gently opened the sliding door to the balcony only to find exactly who they wanted.

capn, attempting to light a usb drive, before tossing both it and the lighter in the trash.

"you really shouldn't be downloading that junk, yknow that right?"

capn scoffed before leaning on the balcony railing, sweet joining by his side.

there was a long moment of silence, a fleeting moment where sweet regretted coming out here, where capn felt the urge to slam his head in.

the argument hurt them both so much, whether they knew or not.

capn shifted his hands uncomfortably, sweets plug tail continued to flick in anticipation.

sweet was finally the first to speak.

"listen cap... about earlier."

cap'ns back tensed, his grip on the railing tightening.

"were you telling the truth? do you really... not trust me? you can be honest, i'd rather you tell me bluntly than try and soften the blow a-"

"no. i do trust you sweet. i promise."

"...what abou-"

"don't even. you're not rotten work either, i don't believe anything i said then. i was...frustrated. i wanted you to stop throwing yourself in stupid, reckless situations. there's only one of you in this dark world. k_k can't lose you. and...neither can i. you don't have to forgive me yet, i don't expect you to after what i said. but...just know none of it was true."

sweet was silent. not stunned, not relieved, just quiet. the wound was still there, of course.

but to see capn so gently yet sternly apply the bandage while accepting the bandage doesn't repair the wound was...endearing.

"you're smart, cocky, energetic, quick witted and so much more, sweet. again, you don't have to take my apology immediately, i understand."

"no no it's...it's fine. it may take a bit for the sting to heal but...i really do appreciate it cap."

he smiled. sweet smiles back with their eye

sweet gently placed their hand on his, capn simply glancing down at the sign of affection, his face a soft blue tint.

he softly laughed, before removing his shades to look up at the gridlines of the cyber world.

"...the sky look beautiful tonight, ey?"

sweet took a moment to think, before chuckling and evolving into a full laugh.

"what?! what did i say?!?"

"i'm sorry i'm sorry.. but cap you know these gridlines have been like this since i was just a kid? they're no more beautiful then they were yesterday, and how they'll be tomorrow night, and the night after that, and the-"

"OK!!! I GET IT!!!" capn shouted, covering his flushed face with his bandana, steam slowly wafting from his vents.

sweet laughed, before leaning their head on his shoulder, capn joining in the laughter slowly but surely. they both stood on the balcony, staring off into the city together.

they'll be ok. no matter what.

[katherine-mcnamara-archive]

cooperandrews replied to your post: to the person who reblogged my first ever gifset...

DROP THE LNIK I WANNA SEE

@cooperandrews  You’re responsible for any horror this causes jsfdkjdgg  HERE YOU GO

[ventitititi]

Meet me where the sky touches the sea

A/N: for those unaware, i spend my summers sailing with my grandparents some years, and i miss it dearly. The result is a mermaid au fanfic :) childe is the mermaid today, of course, since i feel his traveling self fits the theme quite well. And also, i love his dorky self.

Mermaid!childe x Sailor!reader

The smell of the sea surrounded you, the bow of your small ship cutting through the water. Gulls cried and friends waved as you departed, controlling your sails with experienced ease.

Barefoot and smiling, you began your journey, going to a lovely set of islands, where one could wash the weight off their soul.

Luckily, the weather was fair and the waters warm as you went. Some days, dolphins would swim with your ship, putting a smile on your face.

On one such day though, a viridescent blue caught your eye. Which was strange, considering dolphins are niether blue nor shiny.

Shocked laughter left your lips when a mermaid- merman? - jumped from the water, smiling so wide his eyes were closed. Setting your sails steady you sat on the side of your little boat and waved, hoping to catch his attention.

He noticed thankfully, approaching the side of your ship and shaking ginger hair from his face. "Hello traveler! What brings you to this stretch of the sea?"

"I'm sailing to the draíocht isles."

The man(?) Nods, keeping easy pace with your boat to continue the conversation. "I see, and what might your name be? I'm ajax, but many call me childe."

His sunny smile drew one out of you in return, "I'm y/n."

"well, dearest y/n, would you mind if i joined you for this journey? I hear the draíocht isles are lovely this time of year."

"sure, but be careful of the anchor, its up right now and might cause an injury."

Ajax saluted you with a chuckled, swimming joyfully around your little boat. "Aye, aye cap'n!"

Shaking your head, you stood up, hair flitting in the breeze as you swung around your ship with a familiar type of grace. "Off we go then, ajax!"

Light laughter flew with the wind, carrying to far gods ears as the two of you traveled in easy companionship, spending evenings anchored by small islands, you sat in a hanginf chair while you chatted.

And when the sun was high in the sky, salted breeze hitting your skin, you finally reached your destination.

"hey y/n, come swim!"

"give me a sec childe, I'll change and join you."

And join you him did, in the sea. His hands found you easily, keeping you both afloat as he smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple.

"I've been wanting to do that for awhile."

You kissed his cheek with a smile, replying "and I've been wanting to do that."

The satisfied smile he gave you was plenty enough for you. You swam along with him in the turquoise waters, seeing sea life aplenty.

And when you returned to your boat for the night, childe kissed your lips proper and bid you goodnight.

"goodnight, ajax."

From there on, your days were spent swimming and sailing in peace, touring the vast seas and following ajax to the ends of the earth. Barefoot, hair loose, and often in your swimsuit instead of 'proper' clothes.

One evening, childe looked a little hesitant before asking you something peculiar.

"y/n? I have a question."

"yes, ajax?"

"if you could, would you become a child of the sea and join me here?"

"depends, would you teach me your ways?"

Ajax smiled, "of course."

"thats your awnser then, dearest."

And seemingly appeased, you returned below decks to sleep, the odd conversation weighing on your mind.

When morning broke, and you had hopped in with childe, he murmured into your ear, "this may hurt, but bear with me."

He brushed his fingers over your forehead, and with a stinging pain your legs fused to become a tail.

It was a striking dark orange, the beta-like end fading into burgundy.

Childe whistled between his teeth. When you reached up, you felt the same small fins as childe where ears normally were.

"first of all, your gorgeous, and secondly, don't worry, I'll turn you back whenever you give the word."

You threw your arms around his neck, moving awkwardly through the water.

"dearest ajax, i believe you have a whole new world to show me?"

He laughed and grabbed your hand, "swimming lessons first, then off we go!"

After a few tries you had the hang of it, and ajax whisked you away. Diving down, it took a second but you found you could "breathe" here, too.

A world of magic awaited you, clearly, beyond the waves of the sea.

Ajax' tail sparkled with the sun as you followed him down, your eyes tracking the movements he made as you two travelled to a nearby area.

He gestured, smiling, at some fish. Brightly colored and clearly not very good for food. You swam around them, before being dragged again.

A/n: accidentally posted this so I'm cutting it short, i hope its still okay tho

[the-meme-monarch]

Kris felt their grip on their sword waver. No one was coming. No matter who they called, or how loud they screamed, it was just them and Spamton, sitting at a stalemate. Ralsei, Susie, even Noelle... They'd been abandoned.

Would they even want to help, a little voice wondered. After everything you did? Kris grit their teeth at the thought. It wasn't them, it was the little, red, heart shaped parasite that called itself a SOUL.

Kris closed their eyes, feeling the SOUL's wishes wipe away their own like dry erase marker. The feeling disgusted them, but they couldn't stop it. Despite the futility, they couldn't help but question it. Of all people, why them, who'd already been through enough?

You whispered Sweet's name...

~~~

K_K anxiously gnawed on a stale CD Bagel as they repeatedly glanced between the blueprints the fancy-talk guy gave them, and Sweet's lifeless body, plugged into a charging port in the wall. They and Cap'n finished repairs shortly before, both on themselves and Sweet. All that was left was to charge their old friend's body and pray that Sweet was even slightly OK if- No, when they woke up. When. They had to wake up... right?

In the garage, Cap'n huffed out a frustrated burst of static, shoving the barely coherent pile of parts aside as he faceplanted into the workbench. He couldn't work like this. Cap'n walked into the backroom where K_K was, hoping to at least keep the big guy company while they waited.

"Oh, Cap'n...!" K_K tried to give one of their usual cheery grins, but their heart clearly wasn't in it. "I heard the crash in the garage. Guess the building isn't working out? Haha... ha..."

"Yeah, I'm just... Ugh, I'm just- I'm too mad to do anything! And I'm worried as hell about-" Cap'n flinched as a loud blast of feedback burst from Sweet. The speaker jolted awake, eye wide open as they looked around.

"SWEET!" The two practically buried their boyfriend in a group hug.

"Y-You guys..." Sweet mumbled, relieved that Cap'n and K_K were OK. But... They had something to do. Kris needed them.

"I'm so glad you're OK! After all the mess in the city and the Beatdown thing and the Lightner-" K_K yelped as Sweet abruptly stood up, a strange faraway look in their eye. They started to approach the door.

"Hey! Don't get up yet, OK? We ran some repairs on you, but you still shouldn't push yourself. Whatever that Beatdown spell was, it really fucked up your system!" Cap'n said, standing between the Sweet and the door.

"H-Hey, I'm happy you're worried about me, but I'm fine, really... I just need to-" Sweet tried to push past Cap'n, but he stood firm.

"Need to what?" K_K asked.

"Kris needs my h-"

"The Lightner?!" Cap'n snapped, making Sweet flinch. "Sweet, they were the one who made you wipe out the whole damn city! They were the one who made you blow out your fuses! They tried to make you KILL US! Why are you helping them?!"

"I- I don't know." Something about this didn't feel right. He could still hear them. Still hear their voice. "I-I just have to!" Sweet shoved Cap'n to the ground, running out the door and running toward their turntable. K_K and Cap'n ran out shortly after, trying to hold him back.

"S-Sweet, you're acting weird!" K_K said, a pleading tone in their voice. "You can't help them! They've hurt too many people!"

"We are NOT letting you near them, you hear us!" Cap'n said. Sweet struggled in their grip. He had to help them, they needed him-

"The end justifies the means." That's what they told them...

Sweet cast Soundshock, forcing the two to let go. It stung to hurt them, but it wasn't like earlier in the city... As Sweet's turntable rose into the air, the need to help only grew stronger.

Cap'n looked down, fists clenched. "God damn it...!" K_K looked up at Sweet, then down the alleyway.

"... The doors. If we run, we can make it to one of those inter-dimensional door things, and then we can catch up and stop them!" They said, grabbing Cap's hand and running.

~~~

"... HIM? YOU'RE STILL TRYING TO [Use] HIM?" Spamton cackled. "YOU THINK HE CAN [Hear] YOU NOW, MUTTERING HIS NAME!? WHAT CAN HE DO, PLAY ME SOME [Minecrap Ambiance]?" Kris merely stood there. They didn't need to do anything.

"... HEY, WHAT'S THAT NOISE?"

(Falls down stairs in I LOVE YOUR AU SO MUCH DJXBDJXND?? I wrote this pretty quickly and in basically one sitting but I hope you still like it especially bc I've never written for the SCC trio aaaaaa-)

[demonprincezeldris]

It wasn't long until Merlin stormed back in with the mirror the spirit had been sealed within in hand, a very curious Escanor, Ban, and King tailing behind her and peeking through the door. She turned to Meliodas, holding the hand mirror out.

"Captain, normally I'd never suggest this hut it's become clear that we won't be able to properly function in this team if we don't know your needs. Take it."

"Absolutely not, Merlin!" Meliodas immediately retorts, glaring at the mage, "You put that thing back where it came from! I'm not doing it and especially not in front of the others!"

"I spent the past several hours trying to stop you from going into a total magic shutdown because you neglected to mention a weakness that you're people suffer from that most other magical creatures don't, I'm not budging in this!"

"Wait, the captain is a magical creature!?" King yelped, earning an employee in his side from Ban. The damage is done as Merlin noticed them,

"Out! The three of you get out right now! It will be difficult enough getting this idiot to do what needs to be done without you lot spying on us and making the captain even more stubborn about it!"

"What needs to be done!?" Ban scoffed, "whatever that is can be done with us here, right? It's not hurting anybody..."

"Ban... listen to me. The captain is a magical creature of the darker persuasion, that makes it so that he requires certain needs that most other races would find disgusting at best and completely immoral or monstrous otherwise." Merlin carefully explained, ignoring Meliodas' yelp of protest as he realized what she was saying as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "This is not by his choice. He was born to this race and as such is forced to act in this way to survive and he's been spending the past several months,"

At this she turned to Meliodas, glaring at hin heartedly,

"And it had better be months and not centuries like I suspect your neglect to be or else,"

Turning back to Ban, she continued heedless of Meliodas' guilty flinch.

"Neglecting to fulfill which led hin to this situation. The matter of the necromancer spirit merely was the catalyst of an underlying problem."

The group was silent for a bit as they took in the mage's words, as well as their Captain's betrayed expression. It was clear that what Merlin said was true and that Meliodas hadn't wanted them to know. King swallowed, nervous,

"Wh-what is it he needs to do?"

"I don't need to do it," Meliodas tried to protest only to be cut off by Merlin holding up the mirror, silencing him with a glare. It was clear she was unhappy with her father and that this was a non-negotiable conversation.

"An apparently very obscured fact about his people is that they hold an important part of the life and death cycle, protecting the living from malevolent spirits as their... natural predators. Naturally, our dear captain is nervous about having anyone learning he requires the consumption of souls to survive and thus decided the natural course if action was to keep that fact hidden... by starving himself of them."

Everyone was silent as Merlin finished, Meliodas looking guilty as he looked at the ground. "It's not right for Cap'n to disregard his natural instincts," Ban muttered. "Even if he is judged for it. You can't help what you're born as."

"Yeah," Meliodas muttered, "but you have to realize that my race was seen as the villains. While you all may see it as simple survival, others in the past saw it as disgusting. Our very way of survival, feeding. Fuck, even our choices for lovers was looked down upon by the other races! So as to not receive any criticism or hatred, I simple rejected myself. What my instincts were telling me what to do-."

"And being something that you're not. Acting like a human when in reality you're not," Merlin finished bitterly. "And hurting yourself in the process." She shoved the soul towards him. Meliodas made a face, turning his head away. "Eat the soul, Meliodas."

[blazichu]

I am intrigued by the concept of throwing spamton at k_k would you mind elaborating

Well, I have a little planned/written out, but idk if it's enough to build off of for real. This is mostly plot related, though there’s a little bit of character interaction for flavor:

The general premise is that Spamton’s consciousness is a disk at one point and K_K, obviously, is a CD player. I know the formats are different, but we’re just gonna roll with it so we have a plot.

The situation is kind of a parallel to Kris and the Red Soul, in that, with Spamton there, K_K doesn't have a ton of control over what they're doing.

They can veto certain actions-- especially if it's something that would hurt Cap'n or Sweet-- but it's tough on them.

Both of them can talk-- K_K as usual, Spamton through their speakers-- but the only thing K_K can hear is whatever Spamton's saying, and Spamton can hear everything but K_K. This is actually important.

(It’s less that K_K can hear him, and more that they can interpret the vibrations coming from their speakers fairly accurately.)

Because of K_K's interference, Spamton is under the impression that 'his' body is glitching out.

Spamton is also less deadly than usual. Since he's getting all sensory information second hand, his reaction times suck, on top of being stymied by K_K. (Still has ~400 bagels that can be thrown, though.)

Of course Sweet and Cap’n have been trying to figure out what the heck, but K_K can’t exactly hear them/respond, and spends most interactions trying to warn anyone away from themself.

Spamton, meanwhile, is pissed off because Kris didn’t follow through on their deal, and now he’s in a body that doesn’t suit his purposes. He specifically requested big, not tall.

The trick to resolving this situation is getting Spamton to realize that he's puppeteering someone else. He legitimately didn’t know that up front. Maybe it’s just my read on the character, but I feel like being the person controlling someone else wouldn’t be a point of pride for him.

Removing the disk from K_K’s CD slot resolves the issue.

The only thing I really have from there is that, post-crisis, K_K starts skipping-- as in how a CD skips-- when they talk/play music, and it really bothers them. They think it’s going to ruin the group’s work.

This is promptly shut down, because that’s not what’s important here-- but, also, it’s just another sound they could use. They can always branch out into glitch music.

(The skipping mostly acts up when they’re agitated, anyway, so they’re good. It’s just been a stressful day.)

[ripplefields]

thank u for making me go insane abt pokemon this is 4 u shawty......

i imagine scc have a similar music taste but they individually have a few differing opinions (for example but not limited to: sweet could take an interest in more psychedelic genres. he likes Strawberry Guy methinks. cap'n is more of a gorillaz kinda guy but he likes the later albums more than the earlier albums. k_k likes goofy ass music dont hand him the aux cord)

U CAN CHANGE THESE OFC but i think they infodump to each other alot abt the newest song they found or good artists in each genres

neil my boy you come in clutch for me. autism to autism communication.

OK *cracks knuckles* i think while they all have a love for music they all have VERY different tastes. i always thought sweet would have the more intense/"rebellious" taste of the three, usually liking standard rock but also taking a liking to breakcore and hard EDM (they're probably the most at risk of getting found by queen for music rebellion acts their stuff is LOUD) ("the louder it is, the stronger the SOUL resonation is!") ("YOURE GOING TO BLOW YOUR SPEAKERS OUT TURN IT DOWN") if it was a late night staying up working on commissions/tracks/being sleepless in general (which is often) the others will make sure they keep the louder songs to a minimum since on multiple occasions, when sleep deprived their voice speaker tends to. die on them if overclocked and they not only can't play tunes but they also can't SPEAK

capn i think has a bit more of an eye for just the groove of the song more than the volume, HUGE jazz fan but also slower rock songs + the always appreciated EDM the three all enjoy together (DEFINITELY not as loud as what sweet puts on but they all enjoy EDM together) (also current day/later gorillaz is exactly what i'm looking for here you are so smart) (they usually say "if the beat's good, i can bear it" whenever asked why they like what they like) they claim to have their own tastes but often can be found peeking in on the other's playlists and getting ideas (they SWEAR it's not stealing, just inspiration!)

now K_K. THIS is where you find oliver buckland/metaroom type beats. music to space out to basically. as said before she also enjoys EDM with the other 3 but god be damned you put on his playlist and microchip comes on (capn voice) youre keeping that fucking aux cord IN and we are LISTENING to their tunes. they also take a certain liking to some hyperpop, they got sweet hooked on it as well (for the sheer volume of it sometimes) and god be damned if they get capn into it ("this is just. various silly chiptune sounds k_k are you serious") ("100%~!") k_k is the type of person that was an oliver buckland fan BEFORE it got popular off of ENA, they were listening to that man before the backroom labyrinth/hourglass meadow era (but those r still some of their favs ESP backroom labyrinth!)

obv they shares their tastes with eachother, capn usually poking fun at sweet's usual type of stuff ("oh wouldya look at that! another track that'll blow my sound receptors out! nice!"), sweet making snarky remarks back ("capn, where's the fun in your music if you can't violently headbang to it?"), and neither DARE say shit about k_k's tastes, not because they pity/baby him, but bc k_k can dig so deep into their music tastes corresponding to their personalities for dissing their bangers they don't dare provoke them (sweet got the treatment once, i think they sat silently on the storage room floor for an hour internalizing it, capn doesn't even know what k_k even said, no feelings were hurt between the two pals either way they were fine when sweet finally snapped out of , but he fears what they even said to sweet) obv their tastes blend into what they make, but somehow all their strongly contrasting tastes all come together in the end to make their band's tracks really enjoyable and unique!

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! What are your OCs aesthetics? -stuffaboutwriting

Hey!! Sorry I took so long to get back to you! This is such a great question, it stumped me a little, but I got it now!! (Sidenote: now that I've finished it in realizing you probably meant more like "edgelord" or "strong and silent" or "himbo" and stuff like that, not this long tag yourself style list. 😂 but hey feel free to tag yourself!!!)

Nyar: blizzards: and howling wind and swirling snow, breath torn from your lungs before it even has time to fog up in front of you. Mournful classical music, watching the storm from inside at night, calculating.

Caelum: tools scattered on the floor, hands and clothes stained with oil. The smell of gasoline and accidental cuts and bruises while working. Shouting "I'm givin' 'er all she's got, cap'n!' And only half joking about it. Whispered prayers and staring up into the stars, wondering what's beyond them.

Avanda: Coffee. Brewing constantly, dark and warm, comforting. Late nights, when you want to sleep but can't. Staring out into the night, sitting outside listening to the trees. Feeling the forest tugging at your soul and knowing that you're being called home to a place you've never been before. Flannels wrapped tightly around you, the smell of them keeping you anchored.

Thane: scattered libraries. Pages strewn about with coffee rings on your notes. Poetry scribbled onto any blank space you can find, mumbling lines as you go. Falling in love with strangers on the bus, offering them sweet smiles and holding doors for them before they walk out of your life again. Sweaters with sleeves that are just a little too long. Wild hair, always falling in your eyes. Quoting Shakespeare and mixing his sonnets with your own. Always singing something from a musical, knowing every word by heart and performing even when your alone. Hiding your hurt behind a smile, and dreaming of a better world. Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

Carina: theater kid. Standing in the middle of the stage, blinded by the spotlight. Smiles that make your heart stop, hiding your own insecurities. Paint stained hands and hair pulled back. Using your friend as a canvas; drawing on them with sharpie, or practicing makeup. In live with everyone at least a little bit, and makes sure that they know it. Driving a friend to your house when they have a migraine and letting them sleep it off in your bed, then taking them back to their car when they feel better. Late nights wide awake, whispering secrets to each other in the dark. Stolen kisses that no one else ever learns about, but the rumors will fly anyway. Bringing someone tea without asking their order, just knowing it. Doing little things to make sure they know they're loved, then shrugging because its "not a big deal"

Jalev: sweater vests and neatly organized notes. Neat handwriting and color coded highlights. Everything has its place, and its job. House plants and white walls, indie music and small smiles. Academic, learning as much as you can just for the joy of knowing it. Smiling at your friend quietly, no words exchanged but the conversation is still there. Reading quietly, and the sound of pages flipping. Never quiet feeling like you fit in, finding little things to remind yourself you exist.

Jadè: lopsided grins and middle fingers raised. Black clothes with a splash of pink here or there. My Chemical Romance and soft love songs, all on the same playlist. Rage and defiance, gentleness and understanding. Soft and sweet, rough and bitter. Acting tougher than you really are, just to make a name for yourself. Tired if being underestimated, and over compensating for it. Quick wit and snarky remarks, eager to laugh and share a joke. Afraid, but afraid to show it.

Ewan: pine forests, soaring mountains and thundering rivers, feeling at peace in the gray light of the early dawn and the stillness of solitude. So obviously in love that its painful, but keeping quiet about it. Coffee keeping you moving because you feel like you can't afford to sleep. Working long after you clock out, fueled by perfectionism and anxiety. Worried, but not letting anyone see it. Taking care of yourself only because you have others who depend on you. Carrying guilt for something you never did, and atoning for sins that were never your's. Gentle with everyone except yourself. Clenched jaws and fiery eyes. Dedication and loyalty that can never be shaken.

Adair: that soft light of an early dawn, before the sun has even really risen. Soft greens and gentle grays. Houseplants and gardens and little clumps of wildflowers. Hands that are steady even when you aren't. Always working, and always smiling. Happy and soft, but still full of pain. The world has come at you with darkness, but you refuse to believe that the dark will win. Bringing joy and sunlight after the storm. Sage green and lavender. Quiet and understanding, small smiles and fierce strength.

Ferret: brooding and scowling. Leather jackets and bomber jackets, dark sunglasses and crossed arms. Pretending not to care, but willing to do anything for the people you love. Smoking on the hood of your car, and driving down empty highways late at night. The smell of whiskey and a gravely voice. Metallica music played a little on the quiet side. Bloody noses and crooked grins.

Marin: smiling and flirting with everyone who crosses your path. Hidden threats among sweet compliments. Trying your best to do the job, but not sure if you can. Realizing that you were never on the right side, and doing what you can to fix it. Always Smiling. Smiles that hide how hurt you are. Sad eyes, angry eyes, eyes that tell the truth and eyes that lie. Red wine and deep confessions of love. Blood doesn't scare you, and it never has.

[tigerroseblue]

Seven Deadly Sins Oneshot: Illusions

Hey, here's an angsty oneshot I wrote for something thestarrynightgazer drew. So, hope y'all enjoy it! Warning: Ban's potty mouth. And Meliodas seems to have caught it. Oops.

I still couldn't believe it. Ban was here, really here. In Purgatory. I couldn't decide what I was more amazed by–the fact he was here or the fact that he had jumped right in before finding out if there was a way out of this hellhole. I still felt like he was an illusion, something that would fade away as soon as I touched it and leave me here to become just another shadow of a soul, roaming the landscape.

We had paused in our search to find the exit and had killed another indigenous monster to eat. Even in Purgatory, where the landscape was toxic to anything that didn't belong there, Ban still managed to make the meat taste pretty damn good.

I could feel his eyes on me as I used my bone sword to skewer the meat. "Hey, Cap'n?" He spoke up, wary curiosity clear in his voice. I knew what he was going to ask. My body started shaking before he even opened his mouth. Tears welled in my eyes and started down my cheeks. "What exactly did your old man do to you?"

I didn't answer, trying to control myself. Damn it, I thought, upset. After all these years, trying to get a hold of my emotions so I wouldn't blow up every damn time I lost Elizabeth, I can't even stop myself from crying. What am I doing? Get a hold of yourself!

I could feel Ban blatantly staring at me by now, concerned. He obviously wasn't used to seeing me weak, something completely on purpose on my part. Even as a young child, I had learned to hide any weakness. Being weak led to being hurt. That was all there was to it. So, I did another thing I did all too well: deflect the shit out of the question.

"Aw, the old fart just kept me in a damn cage. Pretty damn boring, to be honest," I said, grinning painfully. Ban was not amused. "Cut the shit, Cap'n. No more lying. Give me the whole story, think we're past the deflecting shit by this point." I flinched. Damn. I had really spent too much time with this guy. Throughout the centuries, I'd been able to have friends, but kept them at arm's length. No one found out who or what I really was. If anyone got remotely close, I'd disappear. It was easier that way. Safer, for both me and them.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the sight of my best friend. And he was my best friend. The first in almost 3000 years. Right after the Holy War, it was all too easy for people to recognize me and no one wanted the last Demon anywhere near them. And as the years past, any friends I made eventually died. So, not only did I have to watch Elizabeth die over and over again, I also got to see what friends I'd made grow old and die while I remained unchanged. Some never asked why I didn't age. Others never stopped asking. And others grew fearful of the man who couldn't age and who had a past no one knew.

Damn it, I hated my old man.

"Why did you come down here?" I asked shakily. "What kind of question is that?!" Ban growled. "I came to get you!" I shook my head. Damn it...stop crying! You have no right to cry after all you've done! "Why? You could've just left me here," I said, leaning down, elbows braced on my knees. "Would've been a lot better for everyone." Ban snarled. "What?! No it wouldn't! What about Elizabeth?! Or the Sins?! We need you!"

"No you don't!" I yelled suddenly. Ban stopped speaking, stopped moving. I didn't straighten from my hunched over stance. In fact, I curled more into myself, trying to block the pain. Block the pain...? A voice inside me mocked. What pain? You're the Demon Prince, a monster whose killed countless people! You can't feel pain! You have to have a damn heart to feel anything, especially pain. I wanted to scream at it. All I am is emotions! I wanted to argue. I don't have my strength and my self control is shot to hell, as my freaking tears show! But I couldn't argue with that damn voice, cause it was right. Even if all I was was Meliodas's soul, I was him and he was me. I was the sum of his experiences, of his–our–stupidly long life. If he was that heartless, cruel Demon Prince, so was I.

"Twenty years ago," I started, filling in the silence my outburst had started, "a Red Demon attacked the Fairy King's Forest and killed Elaine, your lover and King's sister. I'm a Demon, remember?! I should've sensed it! I'm the fucking Prince of the Demon Clan! How did I not sense one of my own kind?!" I could feel Ban start to speak, but I bowled right over whatever he was about to say. "I let the love of your life die right in front of you! Great best friend I am! And King! King lost his sister, his kingdom, everything! He told me to my face I couldn't be trusted anymore! And how can I blame him?! There's so many things I could've–should've!–told you! But I didn't! Cause I was so goddamn afraid!"

I was shaking, tears running down my face in steady streams by now. I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried like this. The first time Elizabeth died, when I didn't let go of her cold, lifeless body for what must've been over a day, hoping that it was just a nightmare and I'd wake up and she'd be there, smiling down at me with so much love, I could barely believe that it was for me? When her first incarnation told me about the curse and I realized I was doomed to lose her over and over again? After I had been so fed up with everything, I attempted to kill myself in so many different ways, but nothing would work and nothing was going to free me from my hell?

"I was afraid of losing Elizabeth if one of you spilled the beans and she regained her memories. I was afraid of losing all of you, if you all knew the truth. If you knew what I'd done, what I had been, and decided I was just another monster, like the Demon that killed Elaine..."

"And the others?" I continued, my voice low and harsh. "Diane had her memories wiped and forgot everything about the person she loved, for the second time, because I didn't realize Gowther was losing it! Merlin's entire home was destroyed by my father when she was just a child, leaving her with nothing! Gowther has no emotions and lost one of the only people that ever loved him, trying to stop the Holy War that I started! And then lost the other one after he'd woken up after being asleep for almost 3000 years along with the dead body of his father! And Escanor's power that he hates was once a Goddess's that my brother killed!" I shook my head. "And that's just the Sins!"

"Elizabeth has died 107 times! Her Clan betrayed her! Her own mother murdered and then cursed her! Because she had the horrible luck to fall in love with my worthless ass! Britannia itself was almost destroyed by a war that I started! All the Clans were almost eradicated! The Demons and Goddesses were sealed away, the Giants and Fairies were almost annihilated, and the only reason the Humans survived was because they played both sides! And now it's about to happen again! I didn't protect the key to the Demon's prison well enough and now they're back and pissed off and ready to kill everything in their path in order to get their revenge! And all of you are in danger, cause I selfishly wanted to see my ends met, even if it meant sending people who were completely clueless about the situation into battle!"

I took a deep breath, winded from my continuous crying and yelling. "So tell me, WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANY OF YOU NEED ME?!?!" I screamed.

Ban didn't answer. I leaned over more, resting my head on my arms, covering my face with my trembling hands. I couldn't tell if the trembling was a result of adrenaline, rage, sadness, or a mixture of all three. I waited for him to respond. Maybe now he'd see that I wasn't worth it, that all I had done was hurt them.

"You're fucking stupid," was his response. That...was not what I was expecting. I finally looked up. He stared at me, determination burning in his red eyes. "Listen, maybe our lives have been fucked up all to hell. But that's not your fault. Maybe you should've told us what was going on, but not wanting to see the woman you love die for the 108th time is a pretty damn good fucking reason not to say anything, in my opinion. And I'm pretty sure King'll agree with me, he'd do anything for Diane. And whatever your fucking psychopathic family did has nothing to do with you. And the princess would tell you she didn't care what happened, she loved you, if she was here. And maybe you started that war, but the Clans sure as hell helped it along. And maybe you lost that damn key, but it was bound to happen anyway and you protected it good enough," his hand rubbed along the scar I'd given him. "So, your argument is shit. Let's move on to what your son of a bitch father did to you."

I stared at him, taking a moment to comprehend what had just been said. Then, I started laughing. It was a broken, strangled laugh, but it'd do. "Oh, you know, the usual. Just created illusions of my worst damn fears and tortured me with the fact that I'd fucked up in so many different ways, it's a damn miracle anyone gives a shit about me." I laughed again. "What the fuck did I do to deserve all of you?" He shrugged. "The fact that you dragged all of us out of our shit and gave us a purpose again?"

I shook my head, choosing not to address that comment yet. "At first, I was pretty damn confident, you know? Telling him I was getting out of this dump and making it back to you guys and we were going to kick his Commandment's asses. But he knew exactly what buttons to push. With his magic, he created illusions of all of you. The Sins, Elizabeth, even Little Gil... I knew all they were were illusions, but that didn't matter in the end. I still heard all the accusations. Of how I'd ruined your lives, how much I'd fucked everything up, how so many people would still be alive if it wasn't for me. And I did exactly what that bastard father of mine wanted: I cracked. Then, he didn't have to worry about me escaping, I was too mad with guilt and rage to do anything."

I closed my eyes, remembering all the illusions had said. "Elizabeth asked why she'd fallen for me, a monster who after all these years, still hasn't done what I'd promised. All you guys told me I'd destroyed your lives and threw you into a war that wasn't yours to begin with and that I was going to get you all killed. Little Gil blamed me for Zaratras's death and Hendy and Dreyfus's possessions. Zaratras's dead body then blamed me for leaving his son fatherless and forced to go against everything he stood for to protect the person he loved. Baltra blamed me for bringing his kingdom and family into a fight they had no chance of winning. My brother blamed me for starting the war and betraying them. And all those countless people I couldn't save...I saw all their faces again. I heard their screams. All the while, my father just had to chime in with his little tidbits and remind me of my days as the leader of the Ten Commandments and how much death and destruction I had left in my wake back then."

I pressed my palms against my ears, trying in vain to shut out the memories. "I hate who I was back then. I was a true monster that didn't care about what atrocious actions I was committing. Not a day goes by that I don't regret my past. I can't believe Elizabeth ever stuck with me. She should've seen a lost cause when she saw me, but she didn't care. She loved me anyway and I'm so lucky to have her. And you guys. After everything I've done, how I hid so many things from you, things that could've saved lives, how can you sit there and tell me this isn't my fault?!"

Ban sighed. "Damn, Cap'n. I'm not used to being the voice of reason. Listen, when you found all of us, we were nothing but broken bastards who didn't have the will to fight anymore. After Elaine died, I didn't want to do anything. We both know I could've escaped from that prison they had me in after Elaine died. But I didn't, cause I didn't have anything to live for anymore, but I couldn't die either. And while I don't exactly see eye to eye with the others all the time, I know they're the same. We might've not liked you dragging us from our shit at first, but you did it and made us get back up and start fighting again. If we die in this war, at least we'd die fighting for something, instead of just laying down and waiting for death to come."

He got up and walked over to me, slinging an arm around my shaking shoulders. "So, let's get out of this dump, save our women, end this damn war, then drink enough alcohol, it sends even you into a fucking coma, agreed? And I'll make sure to tell your father to go fuck himself while we're at it." I laughed, sounding slightly choked. "Only you, Ban. Only you." He laughed with me and stood up. "And after this is all over and done with, we'll open the bar again with all the Sins! And Elizabeth and Elaine too!" He said, walking off.

I stood up and wiped away the tears. "Yeah," I said, grinning. Maybe he's right, I thought, following alongside Ban. Then again, maybe they're just all idiots and I've screwed up for the last time and they'll hate me when we get back. But first of all, we have to get out of this damn place. The rest can just fall into place as it will...Though, cussing out my dad sounds really fucking fantastic right now.

[feathersandblue]

A compilation of relevant Treasure Island quotes as pertaining to Captain Flint (the real one, not the parrot)

"Look, Jim, how my fingers fidges," he continued in the pleading tone. "I can't keep 'em still, not I. I haven't had a drop this blessed day. That doctor's a fool, I tell you. If I don't have a drain o' rum, Jim, I'll have the horrors; I seen some on 'em already. I seen old Flint in the corner there, behind you; as plain as print, I seen him; and if I get the horrors, I'm a man that has lived rough, and I'll raise Cain. Your doctor hisself said one glass wouldn't hurt me. I'll give you a golden guinea for a noggin, Jim." 

"Ah! Black Dog," says he. "He's a bad un; but there's worse that put him on. Now, if I can't get away nohow, and they tip me the black spot, mind you, it's my old sea-chest they're after; you get on a horse—you can, can't you? Well, then, you get on a horse, and go to—well, yes, I will!—to that eternal doctor swab, and tell him to pipe all hands—magistrates and sich—and he'll lay 'em aboard at the Admiral Benbow—all old Flint's crew, man and boy, all on 'em that's left. I was first mate, I was, old Flint's first mate, and I'm the on'y one as knows the place. He gave it me at Savannah, when he lay a-dying, like as if I was to now, you see. But you won't peach unless they get the black spot on me, or unless you see that Black Dog again or a seafaring man with one leg, Jim—him above all." 

(Capter III, The Black Spot, spoken by the captain, aka Billy Bones)

For—you would have thought men would have been ashamed of themselves—no soul would consent to return with us to the Admiral Benbow. The more we told of our troubles, the more—man, woman, and child—they clung to the shelter of their houses. The name of Captain Flint, though it was strange to me, was well enough known to some there and carried a great weight of terror.

(Capter IV, The Sea-chest, Jim Hawkins)

"One at a time, one at a time," laughed Dr. Livesey. "You have heard of this Flint, I suppose?"

"Heard of him!" cried the squire. "Heard of him, you say! He was the bloodthirstiest buccaneer that sailed. Blackbeard was a child to Flint. The Spaniards were so prodigiously afraid of him that, I tell you, sir, I was sometimes proud he was an Englishman. I've seen his top-sails with these eyes, off Trinidad, and the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I sailed with put back—put back, sir, into Port of Spain."

(Chapter VI, The Captain’s Papers)

O, not I," said Silver. "Flint was cap'n; I was quartermaster, along of my timber leg. The same broadside I lost my leg, old Pew lost his deadlights. It was a master surgeon, him that ampytated me—out of college and all—Latin by the bucket, and what not; but he was hanged like a dog, and sun-dried like the rest, at Corso Castle. That was Roberts' men, that was, and comed of changing names to their ships—Royal Fortune and so on. Now, what a ship was christened, so let her stay, I says. So it was with the Cassandra, as brought us all safe home from Malabar, after England took the viceroy of the Indies; so it was with the old Walrus, Flint's old ship, as I've seen amuck with the red blood and fit to sink with gold."

"Ah!" cried another voice, that of the youngest hand on board, and evidently full of admiration. "He was the flower of the flock, was Flint!"

"Davis was a man too, by all accounts," said Silver. "I never sailed along of him; first with England, then with Flint, that's my story; and now here on my own account, in a manner of speaking. I laid by nine hundred safe, from England, and two thousand after Flint. That ain't bad for a man before the mast—all safe in bank. 'Tain't earning now, it's saving does it, you may lay to that. Where's all England's men now? I dunno. Where's Flint's? Why, most on 'em aboard here, and glad to get the duff—been begging before that, some on 'em.

"Gentlemen of fortune," returned the cook, "usually trusts little among themselves, and right they are, you may lay to it. But I have a way with me, I have. When a mate brings a slip on his cable—one as knows me, I mean—it won't be in the same world with old John. There was some that was feared of Pew, and some that was feared of Flint; but Flint his own self was feared of me. Feared he was, and proud. They was the roughest crew afloat, was Flint's; the devil himself would have been feared to go to sea with them. Well now, I tell you, I'm not a boasting man, and you seen yourself how easy I keep company, but when I was quartermaster, lambs wasn't the word for Flint's old buccaneers. Ah, you may be sure of yourself in old John's ship."

"So?" says Silver. "Well, and where are they now? Pew was that sort, and he died a beggar-man. Flint was, and he died of rum at Savannah. Ah, they was a sweet crew, they was! On'y, where are they?"

(Chapter XI, What I Heard in the Apple Barrel)

"Now, I'll tell you what," he went on. "So much I'll tell you, and no more. I were in Flint's ship when he buried the treasure; he and six along—six strong seamen. They was ashore nigh on a week, and us standing off and on in the old Walrus. One fine day up went the signal, and here come Flint by himself in a little boat, and his head done up in a blue scarf. The sun was getting up, and mortal white he looked about the cutwater. But, there he was, you mind, and the six all dead—dead and buried. How he done it, not a man aboard us could make out. It was battle, murder, and sudden death, leastways—him against six. Billy Bones was the mate; Long John, he was quartermaster; and they asked him where the treasure was. 'Ah,' says he, 'you can go ashore, if you like, and stay,' he says; 'but as for the ship, she'll beat up for more, by thunder!' That's what he said.

(Capter XV, The Man of the Island, Ben Gunn)

"That!" he cried. "Why, in a place like this, where nobody puts in but gen'lemen of fortune, Silver would fly the Jolly Roger, you don't make no doubt of that. No, that's your friends. There's been blows too, and I reckon your friends has had the best of it; and here they are ashore in the old stockade, as was made years and years ago by Flint. Ah, he was the man to have a headpiece, was Flint! Barring rum, his match were never seen. He were afraid of none, not he; on'y Silver—Silver was that genteel."

(Capter XIX, The Garrison in the stockade, Ben Gunn)

"Dead—aye, sure enough he's dead and gone below," said the fellow with the bandage; "but if ever sperrit walked, it would be Flint's. Dear heart, but he died bad, did Flint!"

"Aye, that he did," observed another; "now he raged, and now he hollered for the rum, and now he sang. 'Fifteen Men' were his only song, mates; and I tell you true, I never rightly liked to hear it since. It was main hot, and the windy was open, and I hear that old song comin' out as clear as clear—and the death-haul on the man already."

(Chapter XXXI - Tresure hunt: Flint’s pointer, various pirates))

"I don't feel sharp," growled Morgan. "Thinkin' o' Flint—I think it were—as done me."

"Ah, well, my son, you praise your stars he's dead," said Silver.

"He were an ugly devil," cried a third pirate with a shudder; "that blue in the face too!"

"That was how the rum took him," added Merry. "Blue! Well, I reckon he was blue. That's a true word."

"Darby M'Graw," it wailed—for that is the word that best describes the sound—"Darby M'Graw! Darby M'Graw!" again and again and again; and then rising a little higher, and with an oath that I leave out: "Fetch aft the rum, Darby!"

The buccaneers remained rooted to the ground, their eyes starting from their heads. Long after the voice had died away they still stared in silence, dreadfully, before them.

"That fixes it!" gasped one. "Let's go."

"They was his last words," moaned Morgan, "his last words above board."

Dick had his Bible out and was praying volubly. He had been well brought up, had Dick, before he came to sea and fell among bad companions.

Still Silver was unconquered. I could hear his teeth rattle in his head, but he had not yet surrendered.

"Nobody in this here island ever heard of Darby," he muttered; "not one but us that's here." And then, making a great effort: "Shipmates," he cried, "I'm here to get that stuff, and I'll not be beat by man or devil. I never was feared of Flint in his life, and, by the powers, I'll face him dead. There's seven hundred thousand pound not a quarter of a mile from here. When did ever a gentleman o' fortune show his stern to that much dollars for a boozy old seaman with a blue mug—and him dead too?"

(Chapter 32 - The Voice Among the Trees, Long John Silver and various pirates)

[readbookywooks]

I HAD scarce gained a position on the bowsprit when the flying jib flapped and filled upon the other tack, with a report like a gun. The schooner trembled to her keel under the reverse, but next moment, the other sails still drawing, the jib flapped back again and hung idle. This had nearly tossed me off into the sea; and now I lost no time, crawled back along the bowsprit, and tumbled head foremost on the deck. I was on the lee side of the forecastle, and the mainsail, which was still drawing, concealed from me a certain portion of the after-deck. Not a soul was to be seen. The planks, which had not been swabbed since the mutiny, bore the print of many feet, and an empty bottle, broken by the neck, tumbled to and fro like a live thing in the scuppers. Suddenly the HISPANIOLA came right into the wind. The jibs behind me cracked aloud, the rudder slammed to, the whole ship gave a sickening heave and shudder, and at the same moment the main-boom swung inboard, the sheet groaning in the blocks, and showed me the lee after-deck. There were the two watchmen, sure enough: red-cap on his back, as stiff as a handspike, with his arms stretched out like those of a crucifix and his teeth showing through his open lips; Israel Hands propped against the bulwarks, his chin on his chest, his hands lying open before him on the deck, his face as white, under its tan, as a tallow candle. For a while the ship kept bucking and sidling like a vicious horse, the sails filling, now on one tack, now on another, and the boom swinging to and fro till the mast groaned aloud under the strain. Now and again too there would come a cloud of light sprays over the bulwark and a heavy blow of the ship's bows against the swell; so much heavier weather was made of it by this great rigged ship than by my home-made, lop-sided coracle, now gone to the bottom of the sea. At every jump of the schooner, red-cap slipped to and fro, but - what was ghastly to behold - neither his attitude nor his fixed teeth-disclosing grin was anyway disturbed by this rough usage. At every jump too, Hands appeared still more to sink into himself and settle down upon the deck, his feet sliding ever the farther out, and the whole body canting towards the stern, so that his face became, little by little, hid from me; and at last I could see nothing beyond his ear and the frayed ringlet of one whisker. At the same time, I observed, around both of them, splashes of dark blood upon the planks and began to feel sure that they had killed each other in their drunken wrath. While I was thus looking and wondering, in a calm moment, when the ship was still, Israel Hands turned partly round and with a low moan writhed himself back to the position in which I had seen him first. The moan, which told of pain and deadly weakness, and the way in which his jaw hung open went right to my heart. But when I remembered the talk I had overheard from the apple barrel, all pity left me. I walked aft until I reached the main-mast. "Come aboard, Mr. Hands," I said ironically. He rolled his eyes round heavily, but he was too far gone to express surprise. All he could do was to utter one word, "Brandy." It occurred to me there was no time to lose, and dodging the boom as it once more lurched across the deck, I slipped aft and down the companion stairs into the cabin. It was such a scene of confusion as you can hardly fancy. All the lockfast places had been broken open in quest of the chart. The floor was thick with mud where ruffians had sat down to drink or consult after wading in the marshes round their camp. The bulkheads, all painted in clear white and beaded round with gilt, bore a pattern of dirty hands. Dozens of empty bottles clinked together in corners to the rolling of the ship. One of the doctor's medical books lay open on the table, half of the leaves gutted out, I suppose, for pipelights. In the midst of all this the lamp still cast a smoky glow, obscure and brown as umber. I went into the cellar; all the barrels were gone, and of the bottles a most surprising number had been drunk out and thrown away. Certainly, since the mutiny began, not a man of them could ever have been sober. Foraging about, I found a bottle with some brandy left, for Hands; and for myself I routed out some biscuit, some pickled fruits, a great bunch of raisins, and a piece of cheese. With these I came on deck, put down my own stock behind the rudder head and well out of the coxswain's reach, went forward to the water-breaker, and had a good deep drink of water, and then, and not till then, gave Hands the brandy. He must have drunk a gill before he took the bottle from his mouth. "Aye," said he, "by thunder, but I wanted some o' that!" I had sat down already in my own corner and begun to eat. "Much hurt?" I asked him. He grunted, or rather, I might say, he barked. "If that doctor was aboard," he said, "I'd be right enough in a couple of turns, but I don't have no manner of luck, you see, and that's what's the matter with me. As for that swab, he's good and dead, he is," he added, indicating the man with the red cap. "He warn't no seaman anyhow. And where mought you have come from?" "Well," said I, "I've come aboard to take possession of this ship, Mr. Hands; and you'll please regard me as your captain until further notice." He looked at me sourly enough but said nothing. Some of the colour had come back into his cheeks, though he still looked very sick and still continued to slip out and settle down as the ship banged about. "By the by," I continued, "I can't have these colours, Mr. Hands; and by your leave, I'll strike 'em. Better none than these." And again dodging the boom, I ran to the colour lines, handed down their cursed black flag, and chucked it overboard. "God save the king!" said I, waving my cap. "And there's an end to Captain Silver!" He watched me keenly and slyly, his chin all the while on his breast. "I reckon," he said at last, "I reckon, Cap'n Hawkins, you'll kind of want to get ashore now. S'pose we talks." "Why, yes," says I, "with all my heart, Mr. Hands. Say on." And I went back to my meal with a good appetite. "This man," he began, nodding feebly at the corpse "-O'Brien were his name, a rank Irelander - this man and me got the canvas on her, meaning for to sail her back. Well, HE'S dead now, he is - as dead as bilge; and who's to sail this ship, I don't see. Without I gives you a hint, you ain't that man, as far's I can tell. Now, look here, you gives me food and drink and a old scarf or ankecher to tie my wound up, you do, and I'll tell you how to tail her, and that's about square all round, I take it." "I'll tell you one thing," says I: "I'm not going back to Captain Kidd's anchorage. I mean to get into North Inlet and beach her quietly there." "To be sure you did," he cried. "Why, I ain't sich an infernal lubber after all. I can see, can't I? I've tried my fling, I have, and I've lost, and it's you has the wind of me. North Inlet? Why, I haven't no ch'ice, not I! I'd help you sail her up to Execution Dock, by thunder! So I would." Well, as it seemed to me, there was some sense in this. We struck our bargain on the spot. In three minutes I had the HISPANIOLA sailing easily before the wind along the coast of Treasure Island, with good hopes of turning the northern point ere noon and beating down again as far as North Inlet before high water, when we might beach her safely and wait till the subsiding tide permitted us to land. Then I lashed the tiller and went below to my own chest, where I got a soft silk handkerchief of my mother's. With this, and with my aid, Hands bound up the great bleeding stab he had received in the thigh, and after he had eaten a little and had a swallow or two more of the brandy, he began to pick up visibly, sat straighter up, spoke louder and clearer, and looked in every way another man. The breeze served us admirably. We skimmed before it like a bird, the coast of the island flashing by and the view changing every minute. Soon we were past the high lands and bowling beside low, sandy country, sparsely dotted with dwarf pines, and soon we were beyond that again and had turned the corner of the rocky hill that ends the island on the north. I was greatly elated with my new command, and pleased with the bright, sunshiny weather and these different prospects of the coast. I had now plenty of water and good things to eat, and my conscience, which had smitten me hard for my desertion, was quieted by the great conquest I had made. I should, I think, have had nothing left me to desire but for the eyes of the coxswain as they followed me derisively about the deck and the odd smile that appeared continually on his face. It was a smile that had in it something both of pain and weakness - a haggard old man's smile; but there was, besides that, a grain of derision, a shadow of treachery, in his expression as he craftily watched, and watched, and watched me at my work.