[theypissedonme] ‘ i’ll be right here. don’t worry. ’ [ @ vane. it’s said with utter nonchalance, even a dismissive sort of ‘it’s nothing’ tone, but The Genuine Support And Fondness is there nonetheless. ]

Charles was quiet – there was nothing he could say here that would feel right in the face of what was going on around them. He knew Jack understood, on a logical level – and he respected the fact that Jack would never truly have reason to empathize with him on this front, especially what with the fact he would personally and single handedly behead an entire fucking army if that was what it took to ascertain the damnable fool never obtained the depth of familiarity necessary to realize exactly how fucked up this all was.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Straightening up, he looked at the man steadily a moment, before nodding and taking his leave. It was time to address them – and though he knew their freedom stood at the end of this labour, it didn’t make the position any easier to swallow. It didn’t wash away the bile that had settled itself thickly in the back of his throat from the very moment he had realized what the fuck Jack had done, what he expected, what Nassau apparently needed.

Jack was going to be right there, alright. And he wasn’t going to like this one bit.

Striding forth into the square, he faced the situation before him and did what he knew was right. If he and Flint could not manage what Jack had failed to accomplish in their absence, and do so by honest means, then they had no right to call themselves leaders. And if Nassau could not survive without slaves –

Then the entire fucking place could burn like Charlestown. Every goddamn acre of it. He’d tear her to pieces with his own fucking hands before succumbing to this.

“You’re free to go.” His voice was pitched as loud as it could go – clear in the quiet of those who faced him. “Every one of you – should you wish to stay here – are welcome to find honest work. As for the rest – arrangements will be made for you to rejoin your people as soon as we are able.”

Jack wouldn’t understand. And frankly – he didn’t have to.

@theypissedonme

[theypissedonme] 🎀 give my muse a gift [ @ vane. it’s a very small green lizard that gets deposited into charles’ hands after jack asks him to hold them out for him. ]

{ Random Act Prompts }

It was a testament to the relationship held between Charles and his quartermaster that Rackham could just say hold out your hands and he would do so without suspicion or fear – and considering that act was in a sense a sign of surrender, something that could easily turn to shackles on his wrists if he were not fast enough to react – spoke loud and clear about how much trust was held between them.

Jack did not disappoint – what he had to deliver was small even in his own hands, but set into Charles’, the little lizard was adorably dwarfed. Tucking the tiny thing close so that it would have a greater sense of security and freedom in wandering, he grinned brightly at it before looking up at Jack ( not thinking to wipe his features before doing so ) and wondered honestly, “Where did you find this, then?”

[theypissedonme] “Welcome to the shitshow, grab a comfortable seat, find me in the front row.” [ @ t.ham, in That Verse ]

{ Little Dark Age }

“That bad, is it?” Thomas inquired, strangely charmed by the other man’s dismissive demeanor. He would be lying if he claimed to hold no nervousness about joining the crew of the Ranger, but there was also no denying that he felt a great wealth of gratitude toward Rackham for showing him that there was another option available – another way that he might be able to live and breathe until he could find what he wanted to do, who he wanted to be.

He doubted he could ever explain it – or that Rackham would ever care to hear it – but it was there just the same as he took a seat alongside the man and observed the ‘shitshow’ as they sailed steadily closer to her shores. “Any advice on what comes next?” He wondered, genuinely curious about what the other might have to think on the subject – and what, exactly, it meant to be a member of this crew while at port.

@theypissedonme

[theypissedonme, @ Abigail] 💧 Wipe away my muse’s tears [ except tbh he’s just offering a handkerchief here. what’s a verse i’ve never heard of one. ]

{ Nonverbal Starters }

Abigail had managed to hold herself together during the worst of it, but there had been no familiar faces at the time and the men who were supposed to be employed to keep these sorts of things from happening had been utterly uninterested in anything beyond being entertained by the spectacle of her attempt to get away from unwanted attention.

In the end, she’d done something terrible and struck her assailant with one of the heavy beer tankards in reach, and fled to one of the upstairs rooms – praying that Max and Mister Rackham would forgive her for causing a scene, especially when she didn’t bring them the sort of money expected in an establishment like this. All she did was help out with the kitchen staff, but that hardly kept men from thinking they had a right to her anyway.

The sound of the door unlocking was the only warning she had, and she barely managed to wipe her face by the time it opened. Her breathing was still telling, and she couldn’t bear to face her employer just yet, wringing her hands nervously against the fabric of her dress as she choked out, “I’m sorry – “

The sight of a pressed cloth startled her, and after a moment, she reached up and took it to dab at her eyes as Mister Rackham knelt, seemingly to check on her. After a moment she did gather her courage and look at him. “He wouldn’t let go,” She explained quietly, “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

@theypissedonme