Surrender Of The Storm

@tidefated continued from [x]

In the midst of a storm – no matter the strength of the gales – a man needed to keep on his toes. There were too many things that could go wrong – all of which needed to be accounted for and mitigated or compensated for in orderly fashion. Immediacy and efficiency were key – and keeping ahead of the worst a storm could do took not only a great deal of mental maneuvering, it was also exceptionally taxing in a physical sense. Simply put, to say that Jack was exhausted would be to set matters into a much milder format than the reality of it.

He relaxed mostly because he trusted Armando to stand steady even with his weight, and he knew that now was the wisest time for rest. He did not resist the yawn that overcame him, though he was hesitant to retire entirely when there was work that still needed overseeing. “Once matters settle, aye,” He agreed, indicating he was simply taking a moment for himself, and intended to return to assisting soon enough.

In What We Hide

@tidefated continued from [x]

The question sounded like the kind of thing a man didn’t want an answer to – either because he already knew his thoughts on the matter, or he intended to make a point through the inquiry itself. For that reason, Charles maintained a steady silence in its wake, which proved to be the proper course as William carried on.

He was a strange sort of man, and it was at times like these Charles found himself reminded as to why he had taken interest enough in him to begin with, to have Rackham run him through the duties expected of a man aboard the Ranger.

Although the other man captained Fancy and was no longer technically quartermaster to Ranger, the two ships operated in perfect tandem together, resulting in their crews tending to share space and resources often enough that come hiring rounds, Charles and Jack would head out together, their respective quartermasters minding the men as they set to work hiring for a combined crew.

William was a man who at times appeared too soft for this life, and at others – such as this moment – where he seemed to lack anything resembling fear as he challenged Charles on what appeared to be some sort of philosophical level. There were contradictions to the man that were beyond fascinating, but as it was Charles could tell the rhetoric had reached an end, and sought an answer in its wake.

“If these ideas are a comfort to you, then I see no reason why you should not keep them,” Charles was not a man for philosophical arguments – a man’s beliefs were his own, and it was not for other men to sway them unless it held some sort of personal benefit to do so. Manipulating a man through his philosophies was the sort of intellectual warfare that set people apart from others – Charles himself had met many masters of the craft – but it was not his strong suit, so he did not partake unless he felt it absolutely necessary to achieving his own ends.

“I do wonder what you hope to accomplish by sharing them.” Was William perhaps attempting to manipulate Charles into revealing some better side of himself – or was the man working to delude himself into an idea of who Charles Vane was, and seeking to shroud himself with false comforts to escape the reality of him?

👗 – adjusting their clothes | TF’s Joji to Hal Gates

{ Nonverbal Starters }

The slight tugging at his collar as it was drawn and smoothed back into its proper position stilled Hal’s hand from bringing yet another mug of mead to his lips. There were only three people who’d dare straighten him up – but only one he could think of who would be conscientious and caring enough to actually fucking do it.

“What’d this crew do to deserve you, Joji?” He asked, not even bothering to look and confirm his suspicions as he was efficiently brushed off. Hal adored his boys, of course – and he was damn near territorial of the lot of them – but there was an unspoken rule on the Walrus that pitted every man for himself in the aftermath of a brawl.

Oh, they were good enough in the midst of things – there was certainly a brand of loyalty among the crew to each of his brothers – but after all was said and done, they scattered like rats in the light to tend their wounds and their pride, as heaven forbid any man think another man weak aboard that bloody ship of theirs, as if they all didn’t know the chinks in one another’s armor anyway. Pride would sink them all one day, of that he was damned sure.

Shadow shifted beside him, and once Joji had sat down, Hal motioned the bartender to bring the man a drink. It was on his tab, as a thanks for the small gesture. “One of these days these damn kids of ours are gonna start a fight they can’t finish,” He mused mildly, knowing the silent man would understand well enough what he was really saying – of all the men aboard the ship, Joji was the one he trusted most, and knew would do well in his absence because none would think the Easterner was Hal’s confidant. Which meant he knew all the secrets, and not a damn soul would think to ask him to share any. “Then where will you and I be, I wonder?” Other than out of work, at any rate.

🤧 – comforting them when crying | TF’s Joji to Abigail

{ Nonverbal Starters }

His presence so often calmed her that his arrival now did little to bring shame into her heart. He had seen her crumble before and never once had he offered judgement. Today was no different as he came and crouched before her, holding her hands until she gathered herself. So often this was all it took – a gentle touch and a sense that it would be alright, over time.

Her hands tightened in his, for today was her father’s seventh birthday in the afterlife – and his first where she had completely forgotten her tradition to visit the sea and speak with him. Her days were so filled with wonderful routines now – meditation, work, writing, her calligraphy practice and of course, the hand to hand training Joji had walked her through today.

It was more of the same motions she was growing ever more used to, but there had been a new form incorporated today and she’d become so consumed with memorizing it and working it into her present forms at practice, before heading to work, that somehow today had become – just another day. It had not been until she had gone to cross off her calendar at work that it had struck her, and surely seven years was hardly enough time for a daughter to forget her father! Let alone all else that had been lost in the fires that had consumed Charlestown.

She had tried to tell herself then – so as not to break apart at work – that it was understandable. She was allowed to move on, to acknowledge the past and the dead when it suited her and to live her life without being consumed by her ghosts. And it was enough, to get her outside and to the table where Joji would meet her to take her home – but business with Mr. Gallenger must have run late, for he was not there.

She had sat, and acknowledged the true reason she was upset wasn’t that she didn’t believe those things. It was that she hadn’t made the choice on purpose. There was a difference between deliberately moving past her father’s birthday and somehow – somehow forgetting it entirely. Even just this once.

She had not meant to cry, and she hated feeling guilty over something so arbitrary as respecting a day that had always been so selfish in life. Her father’s birthdays were always cordial affairs, with business partners and their wives coming to call for entertainment and discussion, often bringing new connections for him to meet on his special day as though these people were, in and of themselves, a gift just to talk to the once.

And her father never hesitated to treat them that way, so she learned the importance and value of networking would always outweigh whatever small thing Abigail managed to purchase or make for him – but she never found melancholy, for when the guests had taken their leave and the hour was late, her father would always find her in the garden or the library, wherever she had sequestered herself away from the din, and gather her into his arms as if she were his greatest gift. It was her favorite part of the day, and had been all of her life.

Perhaps that was why she was so keen to remember it – when she had been so wounded by his wrong doings she had forgotten so much of his goodness. Missing his goodness that first year had made her feel guilty for all his wrongs, and she’d had quite the bitter things to say to the sea that day. But the second year, she had missed him in all his faults and goodness, and she had wept by the sea for hours, mourning him – and mourning for herself, as well, for all she had lost and all that she feared. Being alone had been so very terrible, that second year.

It had been a different emotional journey every time she had gone to the sea to talk to him. On his birthday, and on two Christmases when she could bear the loneliness of them no longer, and even once on an Easter because she had been so boggled by the fact she was excited to work that day – and it was because she wouldn’t have to be alone.

This was the first time she had not felt any compulsion to honor him or talk to him, and it had caught her by complete surprise. Holding on to Joji’s hands, she supposed it was the surprise that shocked her most – it made sense, in a way, that she no longer felt so obliged. It was very much due to this man, who had done so much to make sure she wasn’t alone, that she was perhaps finally moving beyond the past.

“Sorry,” She couldn’t help but excuse herself, even though she knew he didn’t mind her tears like others did. They didn’t offend him, not in the least, and there were no true words for how much that meant to her. “I just had a bit of a shock – but I’m alright,” She promised, smiling for him and knowing deep down that her words were true. She was alright – and she would continue to be so.

She considered going down to the beach after all, but in the end she shook her head. It was time to make the choice – and she rather liked the notion that this year could mark the start of moving on. Squeezing his hands, she let out a breath before slowly rising to her feet. “I’d best get home – I’d hate to miss my evening meditations.” She could start them late, but then she’d get to sleep late, and she’d hate herself in the morning for it.

👅 – giving them a love bite on the shoulder | TF’s Joji to Charles in the FWB thing mentioned bc I guess we’re going for this oh goodness

{ Nonverbal Starters }

The slight pinching sensation at his shoulder as teeth sank against his flesh brought a smile to Charles’ lips even as familiar arms snaked about his waist. This was a new sort of arrangement, but there was little to it that was not welcome or enjoyable. Joji’s silent manners of initiating tended to shift the brewing storms of oncoming bad moods rather elegantly, though Charles would never own to that.

Shifting, Charles turned in the other man’s hold – a feat made simple by the fact Joji was wise enough to never try to pin or capture, and was generally quite malleable to whatever happened to be required at any given moment. Stained hands gripped the other’s hips to make it clear this was no rejection, ink from the tedious task of book keeping still clinging to prints more suited to hard labour than the more delicate task of holding a quill.

“Is this what you’ve been lingering for, or are you simply letting me know it’s time to leave the rest to Jack?” He never expected Joji to reply in any verbal sense – was quite used to inquiring into the air between them and marveling at how much the man could tell him without a word. Sometimes though – sometimes he had no fucking idea what the man was trying to tell him, and it was damn near maddening. Especially when, for all he knew, the man wasn’t saying anything at all – literally and figuratively.

But it worked, this silence, and Charles often found he didn’t mind it at times like these, when he was pulling the Easterner close to him and leaning down to taste the skin of his neck. This was something neither one of them needed to communicate too much in – and perhaps that was why they enjoyed each other so.