adventuresofcaptainkitt

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

one of my favorite additions to the main base

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

sometimes the sight of your pirate roommate-brofriend-lover with a manbun hauling furniture and other stuff around the house distracts you from the questionable recipes he’s asking about

bonus doodle

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

after finally defeating the stupid eye of cthulhu, we are onto prepping for the eater of worlds. i’m going to be doing base renovations afterwards so i’ll post pictures of that.

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

Kitt: What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm fucking pissed.

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

Kitt: I learned some very valuable lessons from this.

Asher: I’m guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should have taken away?

Kitt: Death isn’t real, and I’m basically God.

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

He should have waited to use that life crystal.

Kitt had been hasty the first time he summoned the Eye of Cthulhu, desperate to prove he could conquer the Moon Lord’s challenge. He needed some sort of progress, something to prove he wasn’t way in over his head. He summed up his loss as not having good enough armor and not enough life. All he had to do was find a couple of the shiny bastards and he would have his shot at killing the Eye before it smites him and leaves him aching on the forest ground.

Right?

That was another thing. He never moved his spawn. He should have by now. He had a bed, had a new house that he took the time to decorate and furnish, hell, had a person waiting for him. Asher never said anything, he could tell it bothered him. Kitt was reckless, but he at least had gotten into the habit of using the magic mirror anytime he thought he was inching too close to a pointless death. And rather than arriving in disarray somewhere safe and warm with soft hands calming him down, he collapsed on a grassy patch in the middle of nowhere, enemies just beyond the brush.

Asher had begun waiting for him on nights he was out too long. Sometimes he was just out fishing late. Other times he was finally getting back from an expedition, exhaustion clear on his face. Those nights Asher didn’t make him talk and instead just quietly looked him over. He would run his fingers over his new scars, asking Kitt to please use whatever magic the curse gave him to let him wake up somewhere safe. Somewhere Asher was waiting. Kitt never said anything those nights and the pleas faded into the dark.

One night, he asked. He had died in the underground desert searching for materials and had died looking and then died again trying to get his lost money back. Six gold was six gold. He almost died again from one of those cursed sand traps but made it out just in time.

He guessed he was more subdued than he normally was because Asher fussed over him, rather than staring at him with that sad, longing look in his eyes. He hadn’t even pretended like they weren’t going to be cuddled up in the morning, wrapping his arm around Kitt’s waist and pulling him against his chest the moment he laid down.

“I don’t know why ye wants me t’ just show up in the cot all messy. I take the time t’ clean up before I come back, ye realize that don’t ya?” he asked light-heartedly.

“I don’t care about the bed. I care about you. I don’t like that you’re just out there alone and vulnerable. You already told me you never bothered to build a base there or anything resembling a pit stop. You need a place to feel safe after…”

He trailed off at the end. Kitt was upfront about the Moon Lord’s curse from the beginning and while Asher took it better than the rest had, Kitt didn’t expect him to be okay with the thought of his roommate-maybe-lover-but-definitely-best-friend constantly dying.

“I can’t. I need t’ be able t’ reach the western lands, ye know that, darlin’,” he sighed, “Can’t I jus’ make a wee base there t’ give ya a little peace of mind?”

Asher's grip on him tightened.

“You don’t need to do all that, just come home. You don’t even need to waste time cleaning up, the stars above can attest to the fact you never cared much for hygiene before.” Kitt elbowed him and he let out a breathy giggle. “I don’t care about the bed, I care about you.”

Neither had said anything after that, but Kitt lingered by the bed sometimes, the magic of the curse tickling his skin before he left and headed out to the docks to ignore it.

But that didn’t matter now. Not when he had used that cursed life crystal and the Eye of Cthulhu had him in its sights. Not only that but apparently he had killed enough of those annoying goblin scouts that their fucking army had it in for him.

The Eye showed up first. He barely had time to make it to his arena. It was halfway through the fight when he realized that he wasn’t going to win. He spent that fight desperately dodging while trying to figure out what to do next. Once again he woke up in that grassy clearing. This time he trudged west, away from home. He had things to collect.

The real nightmare started a few nights later. He was in the western desert, improving the post he had made there. Two of the villagers had expressed interest in moving out there, hearing about the beginnings of his base there. All he had to do was build it up to a livable place and they agreed to let him install a pylon between there and the ship. It meant he wouldn’t need to switch between the mirror and the shell to get from place to place. It also meant it might be more convenient to set his spawn where his bed was.

He was adding the finishing touches, welcoming Dante and his lassie, a sassy, no-nonsense nurse, when he heard a horn in the distance. He ushered the two upstairs and out of view before peering through the window. He cursed at the sight.

Asher had told him that all those goblin scouts meant there was an army behind them. And they had chosen now to invade.

Goblins poured into the base, targeting him and pillaging the chests he had brought over. It wasn’t too bad at first, but they began overwhelming him. In a last-ditch effort to lead them away from the two hidden upstairs, he dove toward the pylon. The magic flickered before shuttering out. He could hear the curse’s laugh ring in his head as an arrow pierced through his chest.

He woke up a minute later in a familiar clearing. Before he could collect himself, he heard marching in the distance. He rolled out of the way of a magenta blast from one of the sorcerers, but one of the arrows caught him on the cheek. Pulling out his sword, he managed to cut down a few before one too many hits felled him.

Over and over he woke up in the clearing amid a treacherous battle. Sometimes he used his guns. Sometimes his sword. Sometimes he tried to escape on his horse for a moment of reprieve, to do something other than die and wake up just to die again.

There was always a moment before he woke up where his consciousness, maybe his soul, drifted for a moment. Just a moment. A handful of seconds, just enough to be aware of it. In the time before his body was rematerialized elsewhere, he floated, watching the assholes who killed him desecrate his corpse and rob what they could.

It reminded him of his life on the seas. His father used to tell the crew before every battle to “take the coin, leave the rest. You never knew memories haunted the jewelry and mementos of the man you slayed. Best to leave it there so the soul isn’t restless.”

The curse protected all but his coin. A mocking reminder of his father’s words.

Over and over he died and came back. Every time he took a handful of goblin soldiers with him. And little by little, the army dwindled until the last few survivors retreated. He had half the mind to chase them down, but exhausted settled in.

Kitt collapsed onto the bloodied ground, surrounded by his blood, bullets, and the spike balls dropped by the goblins. He laid there, staring at the moon creeping out from the tree line.

“You’ll regret not lettin’ me die that night. I'll cut out each of yer eyes an' feed ‘em t' the sharks, ye slack-jawed, pestilent, barnacle covered cuttlefish bastard!” he shouted at the sky. There was no response.

He laughed to himself mirthlessly. It echoed in the carnage-filled clearing, void of anything other than him and remainders of the battle. With a final chuckle, he pulled himself up, collecting the spike balls for future use and calling upon his horse. He was tired. He was going home, he was going to clean off all the blood and grime caked on him, and he was going to cuddle his roommate-love-friend until everything seemed okay. But for now, he was going to ride his horse home and hope by the time he got back, he had managed to piece himself back together.

The wind picked up as he entered the Eastern desert. He cursed as sand clung to his clothes and face. Just another thing to deal with. The wind nearly knocked him off his feet and he realized with a frustrated groan he was in the middle of a sandstorm. Fucking great! Before he even had the time to rage, a chill went down his spine. In the distance, he could make out a shadow hovering over his arena.

No. Please no. Not now. Not when he was so close.

A strangled gasp got caught in his throat as the Eye of Cthulhu descended upon him. He was tired, miserable, and wholly unprepared for a fight right now. His hands twitched towards his weapons, but after a moment slackened. He stared down his next reaper and hoped that he wouldn’t have to wake up in that fucking clearing again.

When he awoke, he shot up to his knees, clutching his rapidly beating heart.

He couldn’t do it anymore. He wanted to be safe, didn’t want any more eyes or armies, and definitely not anymore death. Not now, not anytime soon. He couldn’t keep doing this.

He pulled out his shell, a strange relic some mysterious benefactor left behind that brought him to the ocean every time he listened to it, and gave a shuddering sigh as the ocean calm washed over him. He would be home soon. Just a little longer. He stumbled toward the forest, barely registering the others who had gathered on the shore.

Spencer, a young angler and collector with a superiority complex, had alerted the other two living in the beach hut the moment he saw him appear. They pulled him inside, handing him food and towels. He basically collapsed into the chair they shoved him in. Spencer sat down next to him.

“You were gone for almost a week, Kitt. You normally come out to fish every other night. The others back at the ship hadn’t heard anything either. Asher even went to go ask the creepy old man hanging out in that desert dungeon and he said he hadn’t seen you,” he told him, voice barely over a whisper. “I know you said you can’t die, but we were beginning to think… What happened, Kitt?”

Kitt stared blankly. The army had seemed endless. He hadn’t realized how long it had been. He thought about spilling everything right now, but the story would take too long and he was really, really tired.

“I’ll tell ya another time, kid.” He tried to grin and hoped it didn’t look too much like a grimace. “Right now, I jus’ wanna get home.”

Spencer looked him over a few second longer before lifting his chin and shrugging. “Understandable. I expect you to be here tomorrow however. You have a back log in quests and I can’t have my favorite idiot- I mean adventurer slacking off on the job, can I? Now hurry along before Asher bludgeons that painter guy with a book or something. He keeps suggesting a memorial painting.”

Kitt winced and rushed out of the shack. He raced to the back of the ship and down the hatch just in time to hear arguing coming from below.

“He’s not dead! Stop saying that! He can’t be!”

Asher.

He could see Asher and Stefano yelling in the hallway while the siblings looked on in concern. Asher had practically cornered Stefano who was trying to placate him. The rage on Asher’s face caught Kitt off guard. He’d never seen Asher so angry before.

“I’m not saying he’s dead, I’m just saying if was going to come back, he woulda done it by now. And we all know he didn’t just abandon us so…”

Stefano trailed off awkwardly while Asher seemed to grow more and more enraged. Kitt noticed he was carrying one of his heavier encyclopedias. Maybe Spencer hadn’t been joking.

He dropped down the platform separating him from the rest and made his grand entrance.

“I appreciate the confidence in me, but I do wants t' say the whole unable t' die thing wasn’t me bein' o'er confident.”

There were multiple gasps when they realized who was standing before them. Asher wasted no time crashing into him, checking him over frantically while the others hovered nearby. Stefano looked taken aback though relieved.

“Kitt! You’re back, I knew you would be,” Asher rambled, pulling him into a crushing hug before pulling back. “Six whole days! Nobody heard anything. We haven’t been able to reach the others in the West either. There was nothing.”

Kitt was silent. He pushed off Asher and looked away from the rest of them. “Can we natter about it in the mornin’? I wants t' sleep, it been a long, uh, six days.”

The others awkwardly muttered their good nights as Asher tentatively guided him to the room.

It was like it normally was. Asher quietly looked him over, stiflingly a gasp at all the new scars littering his chest. Most would fade. The death marks would stay, however. Then they crawled into bed and whispered goodnight. However, before he blew out the candle, Kitt paused.

He got out of bed and headed to his workshop in the basement, ignoring Asher’s confused shouts. Not again. He couldn’t sleep without being sure he wouldn’t randomly die and his sleep and wake in the horrid fucking clearing again. When he returned, he was holding a shoddily made cot. Asher watched as he placed it in a corner of the room and pulled his hair out his face. Kitt gently removed the eyepatch hiding his cursed eye and drew its binding magic. The magic curled around the cot before settling.

“You set your spawn.”

Kitt smiled softly at him. “The pylon network’s all secure. Besides, I don’ wanna wake up in that clearing if I don’t ‘ave t’.”

Asher nodded in silent understanding. “And the cot.”

Kitt snorted as he retied the eyepatch. “Told ye, I don’t want the bed all messy.”

Asher laughed. It was a sad, humorless thing as he dragged Kitt into his arms and into their bed proper. Kitt could barely tell if they were laughs or sobs, but he said nothing and just held him just as tightly. He would ignore the wet patch on his shirt as long as Asher did the same.

He let out a shuddering breath. He was safe. The eye would still look for him on those cold, bitter nights, but right now he was safe. And with that thought, he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up in Asher’s arms in the morning. There was no blood, no monsters, no pain. It was peaceful. He liked it.

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

Officially introducing Captain Kitt! I realized he needed an official character sheet.

Underneath is a very in-depth look into his backstory and personality.

Starting off his name is Kitt Lindhurst, son of Elton Lindhurst. “Fox” is a nickname his crew used to call him because of his name and because he is a tricky and clever flirt. I’m gonna say he is 24, though that’s not set in stone, he is male and uses he/him, and is gay (both because when I was writing him he just kinda ended up that way + the color scheme matched the flag). He has long hair that he’s been growing out for years, mainly because his dad doesn’t believe in haircuts due to super situations (we’ve see the voodoo dolls) and he ended up dyeing it at one of the ports to reflect the ocean (if dyes can match depth and biome, they can match the ocean). He also uses his hair to hide his eye because the curse makes him uncomfortable so early on. Fun fact, one of the reasons he hates thunderstorms is because when the sea gets choppy, his hair tends to be harder to manage.

Before the events in Terraria, he was the son of a pirate captain living in the Astranian Shores. The predominant worship of sailors’ was reverence of the stars for their magic and guidance and wariness of the moon due to its control over the tide and the mythology of the Moon Lord, casting him as a villain. Kitt was born out of wedlock. His father knocked up a lass and ended up in the same port a few years later. She wasted no time hunting their ship down and sneaking the toddler on board. They were surprised, but decided to keep him for the time being because that port was not the place to raise a child. Kitt was almost dropped off at an orphanage at another port, but the crew was already attached by the time and his dad adored him. (He was at the age where he wasn’t incredibly needy, but definitely young and impressionable. He doesn’t really remember his mother other than blurry memories of raspy humming and long black hair.

Personality wise, he is a very relaxed and cheerful guy, often cracking jokes and easing tensions. He took upon himself to be a mediator in ship to help his dad out and it’s just habit at this point. He is also mischievous, flirty, clever due to being one of the youngest and raised by pirates. He is also very loyal and protective over people he deems his crew. While he grew up well loved by his pirate family, he does have a burden complex where he feels guilty for inconveniencing over the years. He has the unfortunate habit of repressing negative feelings and or minimizing his feelings/injuries. He also is very reckless when he is focused on a task and often needs to be to talked down, something near impossible if they aren’t his dad or one of the older crew members who also co-parented him (he has about four dads: his actual dad, the quartermaster, the carpenter/medic, and the boatswain)(they were the most active in raising him and he bonded with them a lot more that the other crew members who are like uncles and older brothers).

He didn’t have any relationships on the ship since the other guys were either too old or not really his type. Instead he had flings when they docked or when they met up with other pirate allies. He likes a little chase to his relationship, like flirting them up and wooing them. It makes the flings more memorable and meaningful for him. This is not was occurs with Asher. I’ll go into their relationship in another post tho. This does make him a great wingman, however!

He likes fishing, swimming, dueling, singing, card games, the general things he was able to do aboard a pirate ship. He is actually decently well read, picking up books on navigation and later mythology and history when he could. One of the mates got him a sappy romance book and he actually liked it a lot. He occasionally buys them and hides them, even though they are inevitably found. He jokes that it ruins his pirate image, but his crew doesn’t tease him too much and they keep it on board (they don’t tell others who aren’t part of the crew). He often helps out cooking and only really knows how to cook seafood. It’s good seafood at least. He is fond of animals and nature. He has a book about different sea creatures and one of the few nice things that came from living on land was he finally had enough personal space to make a little library and have a shell collection.

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

Asher, coming back from his walk: Molly said she saw someone trying to fight a squid today!

Kitt, scrubbing off ink: Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

Kitt: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can’t have you ask any questions why

Asher: Only if you also don’t ask why

Asher: *pulls out 7 pristine human skulls* Take your pick

Kitt:

Asher:

Kitt: This one is fine

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

here’s the first edition of the ship base. it will evolve with time and stuff. i’m definitely going to end up moving some characters in and out of the place (i already did actually), but the next renovation will be prettifing the hull and building the deck

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

Kitt: Bad things keep happening to me, like I have bad luck or something.

Asher: Kitt, you don’t have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you’re a dumbass.

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

if spencer the angler is good at one thing other than being incredibly condescending, it’s asking very uncomfortable questions

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

gear upgrades!

also, kitt and the arms dealer would be chaotic bros due to the whole guns and flirting thing. kitt regularly has to go see the nurse as well as the arms dealer so he winds up playing wingman in between purchases and getting patched up.

also, dante might like kitt, but he isn’t going to trust a pirate left unattended with his stock or personal possessions. kitt can’t even be offended.

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

Kitt sat on the dock, absentmindedly fishing as the sun slowly set. A bite, a fish in the barrel, a couple of coins. Just a few weeks ago he had pulled himself out of the sea and crawled onto this shore.

He had just lost his ship, his crew, his father, hell, even his fucking eye. It still throbbed underneath the bandage, phantom pains from the lunar bastard’s attack. He still thought about that night. What he wouldn’t give to watch that bastard die, if a god could die. What he wouldn’t give to have died in his father’s arms that night, if only to feel his warmth one last time.

He shivered as the sun disappeared over the horizon. Another bite, another fish in the barrel, another couple of coins.

It was a slow process, but he was nothing if not patient. The Moon Lord found his challenge amusing. Dead wouldn’t claim him early, no matter how “foolish” he was in his search for some semblance of justice. He had time. He had lives to give up, as many as necessary. And he had fish to catch, to sell, to hand over to a scrappy collector with handful of helpful gear.

Another bite, another fish in the barrel, another couple of coins.

In the morning he would head out in the forest, clear out that plot by the lake, and he would start his next project. A ship. A memorial. He had not good armor nor a decent weapon. He could barely even use the enchanted sword he happened to fish up. No, it wasn’t time for a fight. Not when he was still so weak, when he could barely remember his eye was branded with an ancient god’s curse, milky white and aching. Not yet.

The Moon Lord would die someday, he would make sure of it. But before that, he needed to lay to rest his ship, his crew, and his father. May their souls be guided home from the restless blue. He would honor them. For now, it was all he could do.

One last bite, one last fish in the barrel, and the last few couple of coins for the night. He packed up and stumbled off to his room where Asher, his roommate, was waiting. He was already in bed, reading through one of his many journals. He wordlessly watched as Kitt changed into his sleepwear and crawled in next to him. It was routine at this point. After he blew out the candle and they said their good nights, he thought about what the ship would look like. He knew it like the back of his hand, but it would be a land home this time, no longer sailing the Astranian Seas. Asher softly snored next to him, his breath tickling Kitt’s nape as he curled up against his back. Maybe he would make his private quarters big enough for two. Just so he could keep the guide close. He ignored the warmth pooling in his chest and fell asleep to the sound of gentle breaths and the ocean’s lullaby.

[adventuresofcaptainkitt]

This is my first time playing expert mode as well as my first time playing without my highly leveled up character in a while and I forgot how hard Terraria is when you’re a beginner.

Like the Eye of Cthulhu is actually a very difficult boss you need to plan for when you only have beginner items and the goblin army randomly spawned and proceeded to camp my spawn point. I had to chip them off little by little and then stare blankly while I waited to respawn knowing I was going to just die again in the next 10 seconds.

I’m definitely going to channel that into angst. Did I mention the Eye of Cthulhu spawned right before and after and a few nights later during a sandstorm where I could barely move? Yea.