#tortuga bay

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Santa Cruz Island, Ecuador

A marine iguana (Amblyrhynchus cristatus) swimming in Tortuga Bay, part of the Galapagos archipelago. Greenpeace has called for the creation of a high seas marine protected zone under a new UN treaty to secure a much wider area around Ecuador’s Galapagos archipelago

Photograph: Ernesto Benavides/AFP/Getty Images

[titanomancy]

Just like a prayer, I'll take you there.

[jj-online]

i have beef with tommy bahama. release more tortuga bay fabric now.

[katesfoxhole]

I've been out of actually collecting miniatures and playing the tabletop game for almost a decade, for reasons, but I can still signal boost a company I think more people should know about.

Tortuga Bay Studio makes some interesting and good-quality miniatures and ships internationally, despite being located in eastern Ukraine and occasionally getting shelled by real-life artillery from the real-life evil empire next door.

I haven't made a purchase myself (again because reasons) but an old friend--the guy who introduced me to 40k in fact--got some of their stuff and is very pleased with them. They're supposed to be "true scale" and he describes them as "primaris-sized" despite being old-style marines, which he likes.

Their sculpting style is a little thicc and maybe won't be to everyone's taste. They mostly do marines--modern and heresy-era--but they also have a small Ukraine-themed Imperial Guard army as well. I'm especially taken with their standard bearer:

(I assume I don't need to explain the reference. Also comes in Ork.)

They have a youtube channel with "unboxing" videos that shows several of their minis close up.

Delivery is a little slow (my friend's order took 4 weeks) and I've experienced the occasional outage at their online store, which again is understandable given they're working in a real-life warzone. Despite the Reasons and my general poverty I am seriously considering picking some of their Guard up. A small 2e-sized force maybe, 3 squads and an HQ? I'm a strong supporter of Ukrainian independence and there's not much I can do about it being broke and half the world away, but maybe supporting a Ukrainian business can help out a little?

Slava Ukraini, and fuck Putin in particular.

[hannaedits]

Five-Star Reads for May 2024

[familywelltraveled]

Grand Cayman Island One Day Itinerary

The Cayman Islands is a chain of three islands in the Caribbean. People flock to the Cayman Islands for the warm climate, the tropical island vibes, and the spectacular beaches. Grand Cayman is a popular cruise ship destination. If, like us, you visit Grand Cayman for just one day, we’ll show you what you can see and do on a bus tour of the West Bay of Grand Cayman Island. Quick Cayman Islands…

[staffatemyblog]

Fleshing out my space marines' lore leads to more messy drama in the narrative, more messy drama leads to me wanting to build more models. I need to find a job so i can buy the stupid hobby supplies and mush 28mm barbies together as I narrate them beating the shit out of each other.

[jimmythecannon]

This is why I carry 7 guns when I'm being a pirate.

Gunslinger: Those who live by the sword… get shot by those who don’t.

[goalhofer]

2023 World Baseball Classic Italy Roster

Pitchers

#7 Michele Vassalotti (Carolina Mudcats/Valencia, Venezuela)

#17 Braxton Lorenzini (free agent/Aurora, Colorado)

#19 Alex Bassani (Fortitudo Baseball 1953/Castel San Pietro Terme)

#21 Vincenzo Aiello (Staten Island FerryHawks/Staten Island, New York)

#25 Jeffrey Passantino (Gigantes De Carolina/Ft. Myers, Florida)

#29 Steven Woods; Jr. (free agent/Huntington, New York)

#33 Matt Harvey (free agent/Mystic, Connecticut)

#34 Vin Timpanelli (Chattanooga Lookouts/Staten Island, New York)

#35 Brian Marconi (Lehigh Valley IronPigs/Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)

#36 Glenn Albanese; Jr. (Rocket City Trash Pandas/Wheaton, Illinois)

#38 Ryan Castellani (Kansas City Monarchs/Phoenix, Arizona)

#41 Joe Biagini (free agent/Redwood City, California)

#42 Matteo Bocchi (Parma B.C./Parma)

#44 Claudio Scotti (FCL Mets/Rome)

#46 Sam Gaviglio (free agent/Ashland, Oregon)

#48 Michael Nittoli (Iowa Cubs/Tempe, Arizona)

#53 Neil Pallante (St. Louis Cardinals/San Clemente, California)

#64 Nick Fanti (free agent/Smithtown, New York)

#67 Matt Festa (Seattle Mariners/Brooklyn, New York)

#72 Alessandro Ercolani (FCL Pirates/Borgo Maggiore)

#75 Nicolò Pinazzi (Dayton Tortugas/Milan)

#77 Tiago Da Silva (Generales De Durango/São Paulo, Brazil)

#90 Mitchell Stumpo (Reno Aces/Raleigh, North Carolina)

#92 Joe LaSorsa (Tampa Bay Rays/Mt. Kisco, New York)

#94 Joey Marciano (Sacramento River Cats/Carbondale, Illinois)

Catchers

#30 Alberto Mineo (Parma B.C./Gorizio)

#41 Vito Friscia (Philadelphia Phillies/Oyster Bay, New York)

#42 Brett Sullivan (San Diego Padres/Stockton, California)

#59 Dominic Miroglio (Arizona Diamondbacks/Oakland, California)

Infielders

#8 Nick Lopez (Kansas City Royals/Naperville, Illinois)

#9 Vinnie Pasquantino (Kansas City Royals/Chesterfield County, Virginia)

#20 Miles Mastrobuoni (Chicago Cubs/San Ramon, California)

#22 David Fletcher (Los Angeles Angels/Cypress, California)

#82 Robel García (Toros Del Este/Las Matas De Farfán, Dominican Republic)

#91 John Valente (Toledo Mud Hens/New Rochelle, New York)

Outfielders

#3 Dominic Fletcher (Reno Aces/Cypress, California)

#11 Sal Frelick (Nashville Sounds/Lexington, Massachusetts)

#78 Ben DeLuzio (Iowa Cubs/St. Louis, Missouri)

Coaches

Manager Mike Piazza (Italiana Baseball/Phoenixville, Pennsylvania)

Bench coach Blake Butera (Hudson Valley Renegades/Metairie, Louisiana)

Pitching coach Mike Borzello (Italiana Baseball/Los Angeles, California)

Bullpen coach Jason Simontacchi (Omaha Storm Chasers/Mountain Valley, CA)

1B/Infield coach Jack Santora (Tri-City Dust Devils/Monterey, California)

3B/Hitting coach Chris Denorfia (Hartford Yard Goats/Southington, Connecticut)

Outfield coach Michele Gerali (Italiana Baseball/Parma)

Assistant coach Joe Hsu (Hardin-Simmons University Cowboys/Abilene, Texas)

[writingquestionsanswered]

Describing Scene Locations

Anonymous asked: I've been writing for a decade, mostly short stories, and have recently started writing a fantasy set in the 17th century. My setting is a world pretty much like ours, but with made-up names for specific towns and whatnot. The characters are pirates, and a few are non-human. I'm finding it difficult to figure out where certain plot points take place when the story is mostly character-driven. There are parts where they need to be on land, but apart from 'vague port/island', I don't know what else to do with it. (Am I overthinking this?) I suppose my question is: How specific do secondary locations have to be for it to be immersive and realistic (for their world) without it being lackluster or overdone? I don't want it all be "it's a beach with a village," but adding a giant seaside kingdom seems overkill if it's only mentioned in passing once or twice. Thank you so much for taking the time to answer these - this whole blog is a gift, really.

[Ask edited for length]

First, thank you... that is very kind of you to say! ♥

So, I think it really helps to think of your story in terms of scenes, and to think of each scene almost like a scene in a play. Your scene's setting is like the stage in the play, and the amount of description is the amount of scenery and props on the stage.

If you've been to plays, you've probably noticed that the scenery can be very minimal or very elaborate, depending on the needs of the show:

With fiction, it works the same way. How little or how much you describe the scenery (setting) depends on the needs of the scene, but you do need to make sure to give the reader a sense of place. Looking at the first image, just with the little bit of scenery that's there, we know this scene is taking place in a home, perhaps a living room. If the two men were just sitting on chairs with no other scenery, we wouldn't have that sense of place.

However, that doesn't mean that any of your scenes need to be set in sprawling seaside kingdoms. There are all sorts of land-based settings for pirates:

-- bustling port town like Port Royal or Tortuga -- coastal village, town, or city -- isolated island or cove -- small fishing village -- seaside castles or estates -- pirate's stronghold on a hidden island/cove/cave/bay -- tropical jungle or rainforest -- remote island -- colonial outpost -- swamps and marshlands -- rural countryside -- ancient ruins

There are all sorts of reasons pirates might go ashore in these places:

-- to resupply (food, water, liquor, gunpowder, ammunition) -- to buy specific items (weapons, clothing, equipment for ship) -- to sell, trade, deliver, hide, or bury loot -- to hunt and gather resources -- to recruit crew -- to maintenance, repair, or refit the ship -- to meet with allies, informants, business partners, etc. -- to visit friends/acquaintances -- to avail themselves of various goods and services -- to drink in a bar, gamble and carouse with friends -- to enjoy some much needed rest and recreation -- to learn or exchange information -- to seek medical treatment/medicine/remedies -- to seek legal assistance or meet to discuss legal matters -- to "case" a potential target for a raid -- to visit family and love interests

Within these settings and potential errands, there are many specific settings you could use:

-- the docks of a bustling port -- the tavern of a coastal village -- a quiet moonlit cove where pirates are laying low -- the great hall of a seaside castle -- a masquerade ball at a country estate -- the crumbled ruins of an ancient civilization in an isolated jungle -- at a freshwater lagoon on a remote island during resource stop -- busy market at a colonial outpost -- fisherman's shanty in a quiet bayou -- an official's luxury town home in a big city -- the coastal farm belonging to a family member

So... having the different locations in mind, how much or how little do you describe them? Once again, all you have to do is create a sense of place for the reader. If your pirates are having a heated argument on the docks of a busy port town, you may at least want to give a vague description of the docks, whether it's night or day, what the weather's like, how crowded it is, and maybe a brief sampling of what the crowd is doing, notable sensory details (sounds, smells, visuals) etc. You can also weave those details into the narrative in a way that serves a dual purpose. For example, maybe in the argument, one pirate gestures to a toothless fish monger and uses them as an example in a point they're trying to make. Not only is this a necessary part of the dialogue, but it also fills in some of the scenery detail. Or, maybe instead, they're perusing spices in a bustling seaside market while they talk/argue quietly. Here are some posts from my description master list that will hopefully help further:

The Right Amount of Description (5 Tips!) The 3 Fundamental Truths of Description Description: Style vs Excess/Deficiency How to Make Your Description More Vivid Adding Description to Your WritingWeaving Details into the Story Guide: Showing vs Telling When “Telling” is Okay

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

A Pirate's Life for Me Chapter 2

Summary:  Captain Bucky Barnes and his crew on the Armored Star are the most fearsome pirates in the known world.  They’ve given the British fleet a run for their money as they try to free the enslaved and take from the rich, but they could have never guessed how the British empire would retaliate against them.  When a new pirate ship appears and lays waste to all in its path, will Bucky and his crew be ready for the wrath of a woman scorned?

Warnings:  piracy, pillaging, sexual assault, death/murder, blood/gore, violence, smut

*manbo:  voodoo priestess

Previous chapter Next chapter

After a long few months at sea that finally ended in a successful takeover of the British trade ships, freeing the enslaved people aboard and taking the other supplies and gold, Bucky was sitting in a tavern on Tortuga, celebrating their victory with his crew and stocking up on supplies before they would head back home in the morning.  He finished drinking his second pint, shooing away a prostitute before standing to relieve himself outside.  When he finished he headed toward the front door when he heard–

“Did you hear about Barataria Bay?” one of the prostitutes leaning against the wall said quietly to the one next to her.

“Barataria Bay?  No,” the other replied.

“The story is the British tracked down Barnes’ wifey and his crew’s families there,” the first continued, leaning toward her conspiratorially.  “Leveled it.  It’s still smoking to this day they say.”

“What?” Bucky barked, making them both jump at his voice.  He cornered them so they wouldn’t run.  “Where did you hear this?”

“At the docks!” The first said quickly, looking at him with wide eyes, the other’s mouth open wide as she stared at him.  “Captain of the Jolly Sailor said something about the smoke being a thousand feet high.”

Bucky’s eyes bulged, his breaths getting faster and heavier.  “What else did he say?” he demanded.

“I…I…” she stuttered.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.  “What else did he say?!”

“Please sir!” the first cried.  “He said he was sailing by and they saw the fire and smoke and a large British ship leaving!  He said he heard sirens crying.  That’s all I know!”

“When was this?” he whispered, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arms.

She squirmed.  “I don’t know, he mentioned passing through Dominica, so a few weeks ago?”

Bucky was going to be sick.  He let go of her and thanked her quietly before running inside.  He started gathering his crew and they got to the Armored Star in record time.  It was still a few days trip home, and he was praying to whatever sea god he could think of to favor their sails to get home faster and prove it wasn’t true.

***

Ash.  Smoking embers.  Dried blood everywhere.  Bucky fell to his knees when he reached his home to find it torched, one wall still standing that was riddled with bullet holes.  The crew members had run through the surrounding village, calling out for their lovers, wives, and children, but no one was there.  He cried heavily as he looked around.  Y/N was right.  She was always right.  Why didn’t he listen to her?  Now she was gone.  Everyone was gone.  The cries of his crew were too much to bear, but he sat still and listened.  This was his punishment, surely, to hear the anguished cries of men who lost everything like him.  He looked to his left to the cemetery just beyond the hill and saw multiple rows of freshly dug graves.  His heart lurched to his stomach and he vomited profusely, the reality of it all settling in.  He’d abandoned her when she begged him not to.  He’d betrayed her.  He screamed as he felt something deep inside him fracture.  Bucky would never forgive himself.

***

“Did you hear about the pirate attack at the Brimstone Hill Fortress?”

“Yes!  It was a bloodbath!”

“What about the one at Fort King George?”

“Was that the same ship?”

“I saw it!  It was a deep, emerald green hull.  It used to be the British fleet’s Vanquisher, but was stolen and renamed Dido’s Lament.  It’s been wreaking havoc along the islands.”

“Dido’s Lament?”

Bucky tuned out the chatter around him.   A new, up and coming group of pirates that had taken the islands by storm, or something like that.  He didn’t care anymore.  Nothing mattered.  After he and his crew left Barataria Bay they had wandered the sea aimlessly, still fighting back the British and looting, but it all seemed meaningless now.  His crew’s morale was gone, all looking like shells of themselves as they went about their regular duties on board.  Bucky nearly inhaled his sixth pint, unsteadily standing and heading back to his room in the tavern.  He couldn’t remember what island they were on now.  

“They say you can hear sirens scream before they attack.”

“The sea is on Dido’s side…”

Bucky grabbed a prostitute by the arm and hauled her to his room.  She protested at first until he jingled a money bag in her face.  He slammed the door behind them and sat on a chair, undoing his belt and pulling his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free.  She kneeled in front of him and started to pleasure him, her mouth warm and inviting as she bobbed her head up and down.  He shut his eyes tight and envisioned his treasure pleasuring him and how perfect she was at it.  This woman could never compare, but it would have to do.  His hands gripped the chair’s armrests as his hips trembled, his breath getting heavier.  He could see Y/N now, smiling up at him as he caressed her cheek, her eyes twinkling with mirth as she sucked him just right so he was at her mercy.  The way her pussy would envelop him perfectly, like it was made just for him.  Her bright smile.  Her boisterous laugh.  Her love of the sea and the stories he would tell her of his travels and finding creatures of the deep.  Her kisses…

Bucky held the woman’s head down on him as he came in her mouth, spilling thick ropes of cum down her throat, making her cough and slightly gag.  When he was finished he opened his eyes and let her up.  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, sir, you're gonna have to pay extra for that!” she spat at him, wiping her mouth.  

“Fine,” Bucky said in a bored tone, grabbing the money bag and pulling out a handful of coins.  “This enough?”

“Yessir,” she said with a wide smile.  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something more?”

“No,” he grumbled.  “Get out.”

She huffed but stood and nodded, quickly leaving his room and shutting the door hard behind her.  Bucky tucked his cock back into his pants, standing to lock the door and then walking to the bed.  He let his body fall on it with a grunt.  He hadn’t fully made love since he’d left Y/N then found the Bay a year ago, and he didn’t think he ever would again.  He only used prostitutes for quick relief while he was on land, then would let himself suffer.  That’s what he deserved, a lifetime of suffering for his sins.  He began to cry, like he did every night, exhausting himself into a fitful night’s sleep of memories of Y/N, and the harrowing cries of his crew.

[sitting-on-me-bum]

A marine iguana on the beach at Tortuga Bay, Santa Cruz island, part of the Galápagos archipelago in Ecuador. The Pacific waters are unusually warm for this time of year: El Niño has already begun and could be the most intense in decades, threatening the black marine iguanas

Photograph: Ernesto Benavides/AFP/Getty Images

[titanomancy]

Rip and tear.

Rip and tear their guts.

[starks-hero]

Noceur (n.) - to find comfort in the dark

Pairing: Izzy Hands x Reader

Summary: You'd reached the genius conclusion that you couldn't have nightmares if you simply didn't sleep. Izzy isn't a fan of your logic.

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: Stede may be Edward's lighthouse but Izzy is Reader's anchor. Because I'm a sucker for symbolism.

You stood on the quarterdeck, arms crossed carefully over the rail. It wasn't often you experienced nights like this, quiet and peaceful; nights where you could look out over the water and feel certain that nothing was hiding under the waves or lurking in the fog.

The clouds that had rolled in from the east had swallowed up the moon and sent Buttons away in turn. Once he'd disappeared below deck it was just you and the sea. You could hear the waves kissing the hull beneath you, the wind occasionally rippling the sails. Each subtle creek and groan of the ship steadied your mind.

You matched your breathing with the coming and going of the waves, the salt of the sea air filling your lungs. You'd almost mastered it, using the sounds of the ocean and the way of water to ground yourself.

You were so focused, in fact, that you failed to hear the splintering of the deck beneath heavy footsteps until a hand had already reached out and brushed your shoulder.

The stranger may have found your yelp of fear somewhat amusing if it weren't immediately followed by the cocking of a loaded pistol.

You turned and were met by the bemused first mate.

“Fuck, Izzy–” You lowered your weapon. “I told you I'd take the watch tonight.”

"Since when did I take orders from you?" the slight intimidation in his tone was discredited by the fond nudge of his shoulder against your own. He settled beside you, glancing out over the waves. He stood so close that your knees brushed and the floorboards groaned beneath your shared weight. You smiled despite yourself.

Only in the dark would Israel Hands allow himself be so soft. It was an odd sort of honor, you thought, to see him like this. You had shared enough night watches with the first mate to have been offered a glance beneath the sullen stares and stern hand. Spent enough hours in the dark together sitting in the crow's nest to have caught sight of his smile and see how it made him look ten years younger. On nights like those you could only be glad that the waters around Tortuga were generally quiet as you would have failed to see the entire Spanish armada if it were lined up in front of you. Izzy kept you steady, an anchor preventing you from cracking up on rocks of your own making.

You wished the crew knew him as you did but you were not one to tempt faith, especially not when it had already been so generous.

“What's going on with you?” Izzy asked eventually. The breathy tone of his voice seemed at one with the wind.

You shifted your weight. Behind you, the foresail beat faintly against the mast.

None of the crew had noticed yet. And if they had, they'd decided against saying anything. They stayed quiet as you agreed to the night watch night after night. And you were happy with that system, it was the easiest way to keep the nightmares at bay.

“I'm tired,” you said. It wasn't a lie.

Izzy hummed, an unconvincing sound that hung in the air between you. He glanced your way and when you still said nothing he reached for his pocket. The orange he produced was small, jagged scars running along its skin and already adopting a green hue.

You made a small noise of amusement.

Wordlessly, Izzy began to peel the fruit. He dug his thumb into its center and tore it in two clean halves before offering one to you.

It was somewhat of a tradition, Roach had prepared you rations for your night shifts but upon realizing that you were asking for larger portions solely to share with the first mate he'd stopped the service altogether. The chef's pettiness truly knew no bounds.

Izzy decided the next course of action was to just steal food from the kitchen instead. It was something he got oddly excited about; a feared pirate that pillaged dozens of merchant ships in his lifetime smiling like a young lad as he showed you the stale biscuits and ailing fruits he'd stolen from under the nose of your chef.

You accepted the orange with a small smile.

Izzy cleaned the citrus juice from his fingers with his tongue before tearing the fruit into segments, examining each before pushing one past his lips. Just like when running the ship, Izzy had a particular way of doing things. Vaguely or half-arsed wasn't his style.

As he ate, you traced the groves of the wood in front of you. The orange sat untouched in your palm.

“Nightmares,” you said eventually. “They keep me up most nights. Sometimes they're so bad I don't want to close my eyes so I figured if I just didn't sleep then...”

It was quiet for a moment, your confession growing stale the longer it hung in the air. You already wished you'd said nothing.

Izzy tossed the last of his fruit overboard.

“For someone so clever, you can be a right fucking twat.”

You couldn't help but laugh. “And you're a pioneer in self-care all of a sudden? Being Blackbeard's lapdog–”

“Watch it.” Izzy's tone readopted a sharp edge. You stood with a resigned sigh, an undeserving crate earning a sharp clip of your boot as you turned.

“Just leave it, Iz. Forget I mentioned it,” you said. “I don't need you of all people lecturing me on how to look after myself.”

You made your way down the steps that led onto the main deck, ignoring how Izzy called after you. In your haste and frustration, and certainly no thanks to your lack of sleep, your boot missed the next step and you began a sudden descent toward the ground.

A hand grasped your shoulder and a harsh yank backward recentered your point of gravity.

“You're a fucking wreck,” Izzy said, moving his hold to your forearm.

“I'm fine.”

“Bullshit.”

You didn't look at him as you steadied yourself. Instead you aimed your focus on the splintered wood beneath your boots.

You missed Izzy's expression soften, as if he were finally seeing the true extent of your exhaustion. The dimness in your eyes, the poorly hidden fatigue, and the way you swayed on your feet when you didn't have a wooden rail to support you. You were coming apart at the seams.

“Fuck,” Izzy cursed. “How long has it been since you've slept?”

“Three days.”

“Fuck,” Izzy cursed, again. This time with slightly more anger.

You waited for his ranting to begin, to be scorned like the rest of the crew and sent away like a misbehaved child. You wouldn't be surprised if he went to the captains first thing tomorrow and had your duties changed.

“Come on,” he said instead. His words were surprisingly faint. You let him lead you below deck, the dim glow of the ship's oil lamps doing little to light the way. The hand still hesitantly pressed to the small of your back was very possibly the only thing stopping you from keeling over.

Silently you walked through the gallery, past the sleeping crew and the hammock you left empty every night. When you didn't stop you offered the first mate a confused glance.

“Izzy, what-”

“Just-” he sighed. “Keep going.”

You eventually stopped in front of his own cabin and said nothing as he steered you inside and shut the door behind him.

“What are we doing?” The irritation was clear in your tone. The seventy odd hours without rest making your voice heavy.

Izzy loosened the handkerchief around his neck and kicked off his boots. “You are going to lie down,” he said plainly. He grasped the small stool that sat idle in the corner and pulled it towards the bedside. “And I'm going to make sure you get some fucking rest.”

He sat down and crossed his arms. When you didn't move, he sighed again. “You're not the only one. You don't live this life for so long and then get to sleep easy at night. It... it's just not how it works.”

At Izzy's words and what they implied, you caved. Wordlessly, you kicked off your boots, undid your belt, and removed your coat. It was as comfortable as you could get without undressing further. When you lay down on the mattress, you couldn't help the noise of contentment that escaped you. It was by no means the laps of luxury but having a somewhat soft base pillowed against your aching muscles was much nicer than what you were used to.

The fatigue washed over you in heavy waves and you were reminded of just how tired you were.

“If I think it's a nightmare I'll wake you,” Izzy promised, his words were genuine.

“Why are you doing all this, Izzy?” you asked. “I'm fairly certain if Lucius or Roach was having bad dreams you wouldn't invite them into your cabin and offer to play night guard.”

He shrugged. “You're neither of those twats.”

Izzy's words were transparent. 'You're not them. You're you, and you're different.' You laid back in the bed.

The quaint silence that filled Izzy's cabin was similar to the deck during watch, the same safety net there, the same guarantee that nothing said or done would go any further than you, him, and the waves.

You parted your lips to speak. Izzy reached over and dimmed the oil lamp and the dark swallowed your words before they came.

“Thank you, Iz.” You settled for instead. “I mean it.”

Izzy nodded. A quiet 'of course' accompanied the hesitant brush of his fingers against the back of your hand. In the dim light, Izzy was grateful you couldn't see how he looked at you as though you were the reason the sun rose every day.

Thank you for reading <3

[acornminiatureslog]

Captain Tetys, in charge of the first company, most veteran of the terminators, and seen by many firstborn in the chapter as the goalpost to aspire to in regards to keeping up with their younger primaris siblings. Trained in swordsmanship by Daemos Thane as a young sergeant, he wields the chapter's relic blade and paired knife, collectively referred to as the Esian Blades.

This guy was my first kitbash, a bit rough and simple, but still a favorite model of mine. Eventually, I plan on upgrading him and the rest of my terminators to Tortuga bay truscale models, but that's a project waiting for me to have income again.

[whencyclopedia]

François L'Olonais

François L'Olonais (also spelt L'Olonnais or L'Ollonais, c. 1630-1668), real name Jean-David Nau, was a French buccaneer and pirate who operated from Tortuga on Hispaniola. In 1667, he famously attacked Venezuela, then part of the Spanish Main, and such was his reputation for sadistic cruelty, he was known as the 'Flail of the Spanish'. L'Olonais continued his rampage for plunder in the Bay of Honduras but was ultimately butchered and eaten by local cannibals.

Early Career

Jean-David Nau was born between 1630 and 1635 in Les Sables-d'Olonne on the west coast of France, hence his later nickname François L'Olonais. At the age of 20, he embarked on a life at sea and ended up in the Caribbean. Perhaps unimpressed with the harsh realities of life on a sailing ship, he became an indentured servant on a plantation. After serving for three years, Nau joined the wild band of hunters on Hispaniola who became known as buccaneers for their habit of smoking their meat on grills. The Spanish authorities tried repeatedly to repress the buccaneers, but they resisted these raids, often retreating to the wild interior of the island. Many buccaneers became pirates, and Nau was one of these, perhaps motivated above all by revenge on the Spanish who had killed so many of his brethren hunters.

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