brknsails

[brknsails]

silas fought the urge to step forward when vidar stepped back and he had to ignore the way it ached to see the man do it. he shouldn't have reached for his hand, shouldn't have let him realize how close they really were, so he blamed himself. he looked down at his stitched finger, gently running his thumb over every thread, searching for something that still connected him to vidar. "good as new." he softly cleared his throat, still looking at his hand. it was a way for him to hide the slight painfulness of their distance, a way for him to both protect himself and this connection he felt with vidar.

in his life, he has never known himself to feel the things he feels with vidar. even with the mother of his child the feelings were never this intense within silas. everything about vidar drove him slightly mad, but in all the best of ways. there was a strong gravitational pull he felt towards him like he couldn't explain and try as he might that pull always found him. he could lock himself away in the forge forever but eventually he'd find himself by the beach, or the docks, claiming he was searching for lost material he could use but in reality, it was for a mere glimpse of the pirate before him. it was as confusing for silas as it was for vidar but in a different way; silas couldn't understand why the universe was playing such a cruel joke. why no matter how many times they tried to stay apart from each other, they always ended up coming back together. and no matter how hard he tried to erase that night from his memory, he replayed it over. time and time again.

but whatever the reason, silas wouldn't push it. he would never push things with anyone, but especially not vidar. he is pulled from his thoughts when vidar speaks again, his attention refocusing on him now. i'll help. those two words made his heart hammer harder against his rib cage, the pull becoming painfully hard to fight against, but he simply stared at him with a serene expression. "we help each other." a compromise that he hoped vidar would not argue against, as he also was not looking to argue. not that silas ever looked to argue, it was not in his nature, typically he'd shut down before it could get that far.

he locks in now, focusing on his beloved forge instead of that pull, walking to check different spots, "scrap metal," he says, "leather, copper, any little thing like that would help a great deal." and then it hits. it really hits him. he turned away from vidar to look at the burning coals instead. his face catches the orange-red light as he gazes into them; his eyes, sharp yet distant as he watched them burn. "but perhaps more importantly whatever coal you can find. this is the last that i've got." his voice was softer now, "the fire isn't burning as bright these days, and it's not going to last much longer." silas goes quiet for a moment, subconsciously tracing his thumb over his stitched finger.

vidar was so focused on stitching silas up that when he felt and saw a hand covering, he froze for a split second. suddenly realizing once again how close they were to one another, how his heart was being faster than he would ever like to admit, even if it didn't show on his face, vidar felt his heart in his throat which means that no words were coming out of him until he was good and ready. so, he chose to ignore what silas said for the purpose of finishing the stitch and only when he did he took a step back, just to bring distance between the, and fight the urge to leave all together.

he has never felt this much confusion in his life like he feels when he's near the blacksmith. vidar has no memories in his past and yet that is easier to deal with than whatever magic silas has over him. magic that if vidar could, he would dispel so his heart would stop beating. and he tried, it's not that he hasn't tried to leave silas alone ever since that night, but again and again they would always find each other, vidar only wished to understand why. why him. why silas and nobody else. the silence was stretching too thin and while vidar was always comfortable with it, he also knew that couldn't be quiet forever, though he always hated forcing himself to speak.

"i'll help." his voice was slightly rough and it didn't leave much for argument, as vidar was hardly trying to have one. silas could try to be nice all he wanted but the forge needed any friendly face. so it wasn't a question of whatever or not he would accept vidar's help, vidar wasn't looking for permission, he was simply letting silas know that he was going to help. "you need it." once again that urge to get closer was ever so present but instead vidar stood still and having trouble meeting the other man's eyes out of lingering nervousness. "what are you missing?"

[brknsails]

the whispers within the devil’s cask worried aziel more as time went on, as did the dwindling supplies in tortuga. there was not much left to squeeze and it was starting to take its toll even on him. all he wanted was to do something, anything, that made him feel like he wasn’t just sitting by and letting them take over. they wanted to break free of this cage they had put them in, unable to accept defeat. but, he didn’t know how. and to top it all off, he was becoming more irritated by the day. hunger mixed with his withdrawals were starting to eat him alive despite how much he tried to seem like that wasn’t the case.

tonight was one of the bad nights for aziel, in which he wanted to burn someone for his own suffering. they didn’t care who, just that he inflicted them with the burden he felt. he steps out of his beloved tavern, that now closed earlier than usual, taking in the brisk salty sea air that wrapped around tortuga. they didn’t even know where they were going, simply let their feet guide them wherever. the sound of kiara’s voice ignited his spirit in the same way rika’s voice did, because they both understood a part of aziel that most everyone else feared. “nah, she must’ve missed that piece of advice when she fucked off and left me on the side of the street.” he chuckled, returning the smile given to them. he paused, keeping his tone playful, “mmmm….what brings ye here? and at such a late hour, ye got somethin’ brewin’ for me?”

behind the devil's cask / @brknsails ( aziel )

the urge to scream at her captain to go to those bastards and watch them burn was on high on her priority list but alas that was out of the question because that's exactly what they wanted; out of desperation to get the pirates to come to them and some voice deep inside kiara said fuck it. do it. let them regret ever crossing you. watching the people of tortuga struggle didn't push the needle in her heart, she couldn't care about them when she needed to care about her crew and most importantly herself.

but, that doesn't mean she wanted to see if old friends had anything for her, case in point being aziel. she waited, in the dark until she saw them come out. "did mother never tell you it's not safe to walk alone at night, especially these days?" she asked with a smile on her face, a smile that promised mayhem and fire. "you should be more careful, someone could mug you on these dangerous streets."

[brknsails]

silas felt an invisible weight on his chest when ryker says the word dead, the kind that made it painful to breathe. "i see." silas slowly nodded, wondering if maybe that was part of the reason ryker came to the sea's side too. "were you able to keep any trinkets of his?" he thought for a second, "what was his name?" when he had decided to come to the beach this evening the last thing he expected was to have such a deep conversation with ryker. he never expected to open up, let alone tonight. as he looked over to the man next to him, it suddenly felt like he knew him for many years and years. and he does something he so rarely does, he softly smiles in return to ryker's small one. "thank you, ryker. i appreciate your kind words." he paused, curiously asking, "why do you try so hard to warm my heart?"

but then came the question about the forge, returning silas's gaze to the ocean in front of them. it was hard. hard for him to admit to himself that the forge was in danger of closing its doors, and it really all hits him right then. "i think so, ryker. i'm running thin on supplies, the coals aren't burning as bright these days, it's just a matter of time before i can no longer afford to trade. i promise, i'm trying. i'm trying so hard to find a solution, but i...i just can't figure it out." it pained him to know that soon brimstone would also dim it's light, not for lack of trying, but regardless, one more win for the crown.

he looked back to ryker as he spoke again, feeling his own heart break for the man. he fought the urge to reach over at first, but eventually, he ends up reaching out to gently comb his fingers through ryker's hair. "c'mere," silas gently requests, carefully pulling ryker in. his arms wrap around him, steady and warm, the embrace was firm but gentle at the same time, hoping he was able to comfort him a little bit. silas was never really too good with words, but actions he could do. he looked at ryker, “prison doesn’t seem so bad with someone like you to ride it out with. hang in there, ryker. please.”

ryker was about to apologize again but bit his tongue instead, he might not know what it was like losing a child but he does know what it was like losing someone or family member. "dead." ryker didn't dare to look at silas as he said those words, still feeling angry about how it all ended for him. it's not that pirates ever have a glamorous end to their lives but ryker never thought that his father figured it would end because of betrayal. if he wasn't so scared of those fucking pirates that did that coming back maybe he would seek vengeance but he was too clouded by it to go for it and was much more content with being safe and sound on the island, well that was until the fucking blockade happened. "i'm sure you would've been a great father, maybe the kid could've melted your heart a bit." he gave a small smile, trying to lighten up the mood with a joke.

listening to silas' own struggles with the forge his a core within ryker, this whole island needed supplies to survive and coin to exchange hand and yet the crown was choosing to slowly choke them by not letting any shipment go through. rkyer wondered how long it would take until people get desperate if they weren't already. "surely you won't close the forge, right? i mean—" but he had no solution in mind, he was just a siren dealing with people who were looking for a warm body and secrets, what did he know about saving anything?

it was hard not to feel sadness for silas and the rest of the innocent people of tortuga, whose only sin was to give a place for pirates to be. they were being punished for what? because the crown couldn't dare to step foot in tortuga? it made ryker incredibly mad. "not great." he tried to smile but it was sad. "fewer and fewer clients are coming over and we..." ryker lowered his head until he didn't look a the ocean anymore but rather the sand. "just try to survive." he pulled his legs together and hugged, feeling vulnerable. "we're in prison, silas." he finally looked at the man. "they can say it's for our own good all they want but we're in prison because they don't want to face the pirates." at least this prison is bigger than where he was before, the smallest of miracles, he supposed.

[brknsails]

most people didn’t really come to see aziel, he knew this, but still he liked to joke about it. it never really bothered him, really all he cared about is that the cask made a steady income. there were times in which he felt the loneliness hit, but then during those times he would simply preoccupy himself at the nest with his favorite little siren. he had accepted a long time ago that his life was a road better meant to walk alone and the cask was his only one true love.

“a malt whiskey for the most beautiful captain in all of tortuga,” he smirked, playfully. the barkeeper moved to retrieve a whiskey that he kept hidden for special requests, such as this, and he carefully poured a generous amount of it for her. then he poured himself some of the cheaper rum they had, because he had to save the good stuff for those who paid with good coin. “so,” he says, setting the drink in front her, “ye come to visit ol’ aziel or do ye come only to quench your thirst?” he gave her a playful smirk, taking a swig of his drink.

Ginika’s eyes matched Aziel’s, amusement in her own. She did not do it for the gold coins however, she had plenty as it was. Her earnings would be in watching whether someone was strong enough to overcome the worst. Violence for fun. She would not laugh at someone else’s misfortune, but this was misfortune that the other had brought on themself, and there was a price to be paid in Tortuga for getting caught. 

The captain herself guessed five fingers, one hand, before the man would break and settle the debt. It was six in the end, proving her wrong, he had one finger more of dignity it would seem. A dumb plan, after all: one hand meant he would still be able to work with the other. Now he’d be bandaging both and worthless for the many weeks to come until his fingers were healed. 

She accepted her share, who was she to deny it, she’d made sure each and every coin would come back into the pockets of the tavern one way or another. Perhaps buy a round if it was plenty. She carefully placed it in a silken pouch she’d once stolen off of a vessel. “A good single malt whiskey, if you have any,” she ordered, a satisfied smile on her face. “And treat yourself to something too, after all, good showmanship should be rewarded.”

[brknsails]

when vidar took his injured finger everything besides that hand, and arm, becomes perfectly still in silas. he wouldn’t dare move because in doing so it might ruin the moment, might rob him of being close to vidar like this again. but his breathing slowed down and suddenly he is even more aware of how close the two of them are. his gaze, and only his gaze, trails upwards. he looked at vidar’s hands, then his wrist, finally up to look at vidar’s face; as much as he could through hooded eyelids, aching a bit with every slow breath he took. if there was pain while vidar stitched, he could not feel it, it became nonexistent for the exchange of being so close to him again. how many blades would he have to face so he could slowly breathe him in again? he would face as many as it took if it meant a moment like this. but the careful gaze he gave is as far as he would let himself go, it was enough to just be in the same room as him again.

his gaze lowers back down to their hands to silently watch vidar stitch him up. so, he hadn’t come for supplies. silas would not pretend like he didn’t know what that meant. “thank you for coming.” his voice was quiet, leaving words unspoken. what good did they do? he might unlock something that would send vidar away again, perhaps even permanently, and it was not a risk that silas was willing to take. “and thank you, for…helping.” and letting me see you again. that’s what he really wanted to say. instead he just sat in silence and let vidar work in peace. what he wasn’t expecting was vidar to tell him he would help him, giving perhaps the first sliver of hope that silas has felt in a very long time. yet, he felt guilty all the same.

finally, with his free hand, he reached over to very gently place it above the one vidar was using to stitch him up. what a fool he was to think that even in the darkness he would be able to avoid the gravitational pull he felt towards the pirate. “vidar,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “please do not worry yourself over the forge. you have your crew, your ship, and yourself to worry over.” he lets his hand fall again, afraid of ruining the moment, “leave the forge to me. it will be okay.” right now he didn’t really know what that okay was, except that he would find a way for it to be exactly that. “i…” he thinks maybe he shouldn’t say what wants, but he ends up saying it anyway, “…i can not fathom the thought of you being at risk for trying to help me. if something were to happen to you….” he softly clears his throat, “…i will find a way.”

vidar did worry and from the look of things silas didn't have much in the first place and thinking about it again, the harbinger has a little bit they can handle. maybe he'll ask silas to at least sharpen his blade for coin or- hm. vidar suddenly had a way better idea in mind, coin didn't worth anything anymore but supplies, that was worth plenty. he needed to talk to his smuggler sooner than later. vidar wanted to open his mouth to admit everything but nothing came and the more the silence trailed the more he found himself staring at silas, that was until he cut his finger.

injuries didn't make him uncomfortable, vidar has lost count how many he got over the years despite being known as a ghost by many. he closer to the man after grabbing the rag and took his injured finger gently so he can look at the wound closely, he was no doctor by any means but he could stitch up a wound well enough to have it be closed eventually. "let me." vidar got to work slowly and gently, and being able to concentrate on helping silas with his finger made his throat open up. "i didn't come for supplies." he admitted quietly, though had no voice to say the real reason why he came here.

he didn't look at silas as he worked, which honestly helped when he admitted the lie he told and the fact that his face was giving away nothing thanks to years and years of being able to stay stoic and appear cold. "i'll help get you more." it wasn't question, seeing the state of the forge. silas needed help and vidar was going to provide that help. why did he care about the forge? because silas was... silas. despite the way vidar felt like he wanted to flee all over again, just like on that night. this was still silas and the forge was important to him.

[brknsails]

with tortuga drying by up the second, aziel was facing demons beyond the blockade. he wouldn’t allow himself to indulge in liquor like he used to because now it was become harder to achieve and something he needed in order to trade for supplies or food. the tavern still needed to run, people wanted their rum, and aziel couldn’t bring himself to partake in things knowing how low they were getting. and with that came the side affects of a man who has relied on the bottle more than oxygen to survive.

it started off with headaches that turned his mood more sour than normal and slowly his temper became more irritable by the second. he was snapping out of hunger, but mostly withdrawals. but today, today that sickness was too much. he couldn’t keep much down in terms of water or food due to the nausea he felt constantly hitting him like the oceans tide. his vision was a bit blurry and he felt cold to the touch. he knew he couldn’t make it to the tavern in this state, as he refused to let the cask see him like this.

entering sawbone with the last but of energy he had, aziel seeks a helping hand in his time of desperation. he felt pathetic, utterly pathetic, as he practically falls against the nearest counter from feeling faint. at least if he was going to black out it was going to be here. “please…” his voice raspy from the acid of vomit taking its toll, “….please, nya. tell me you have a remedy for me. i need to make it to the cask, but i…” here it was again, the feeling of wanting to throw up, “…i don’t feel so good.”

at sawbone / @brknsails ( aziel )

ever since the blockade started, nya went to her home maybe twice to take a quick nap because the last thing she wanted was people to see her taking them in sawbone itself, despite how much she was tempted to just sleep there even though it would make things far quicker but still she had her pride that is something she didn't want to get rid of just yet and more importantly she wanted to appear strong in front of everyone else, tortuga needed it.

nya spent most of her days trying to figure out ways to make their supplies last longer, turning away people that their injuries appeared of low priority when before she would've welcomed them with open arms, but sadly they had to make tough choices given how heartless the crown was being. she was looking through inventory when she saw aziel walk in. "aziel?" she was confused to see the barkeeper and praying that everything was well. "are you okay? please tell me it's not serious."

[brknsails]

aziel felt her presence before he could see her. rue had a way with making a room still just by entering it, even here in the devil’s cask. his attention became hers instantly as he watched her sit, listening to her, amusement twinkling in his eyes. the devil’s cask served a purpose for many people and many reasons. but ever since the blockade occurred, it began to become a place of hope for children in need as well. truth be told, the barkeeper had a softness for kids. he knows his own upbringing in tortuga, how it feels to be lost at an age that is so hard to fend for yourself, and he would do whatever it took to help them.

“my little birds are chirping, are they? such rascals.” he smirked, softly chuckling. “they are innocently fighting in a war that isn’t theirs, a crime worthy of the tightest noose.” aziel did not care who heard him, in fact he dared the charter to do something against him. they would have a fight on their hands and the animal within him would make sure to take some out before they ultimately gunned him down like the cowards they were. he leaned himself in a bit more, resting his arms against the wooden surface of the bar counter, knowing no one would dare interrupt them if they valued their life. his servers could handle the requests for more ale while he and rue spoke of more serious manners.

“tortuga. she is what i protect.” his voice as soft as a gentle breeze, intended only for her ears to hear, “my birds flock around our beloved island, unnoticed and in the open. they bring me messages from what they hear, giving me information that could be used in the near future. that’s the thing with children, eh? they are so easily overlooked and considered invaluable. but i? i see their worth. you feed a little, they come back for more. they will give you the information most couldn’t get, in exchange for any sort of kindness. and even if you don’t have to give, they work hard for you, they deliver nonetheless. because they know that you are the hand that feeds and they give you trust in exchange for a helping hand.”

now he leaned in even more, “i have been thinking, a dangerous past time, i know. but my mind…it brews, it bubbles, it starves for the salvation of our island. they continue to push, but we can push back harder. our people are starving for anything to grasp on to, that makes us more dangerous than anything they can throw our way. we will lose people, we could die, but that’s what war is, eh? they wanted one, let’s give them one.” his voice drops, “we can start a rebellion in the darkness of the night, gather the right people, and they won’t expect it. get their coin, but charm them to bargain supplies. win back what is rightfully ours. our ammo, our weapons, our food. dwindle them down a bit and in the process we build. we give to the nest, the pretty sirens, the forge, subtle gifts in places they won’t notice right away. and we become the hands that feed them now. you see?”

Closed starter for Aziel @brknsails where: The devil's cask

The blockade strangled Tortuga inch by inch, a noose sewn by foreign hands that she ached to cut off just as retribution. Their ships loomed like vultures over a dying feast, and the wind had grown quieter for it — as if the island itself was holding its breath. Ruolan arrived at The Devil’s Cask in the hush before the tavern’s second heart began to beat — that fragile lull between drunks passing out and eager patrons stumbling in. She slipped through the side door like a shadow, her robes clinging like fire to her skin, red silk catching in the lamplight to announce her arrival in whispers. In her hands: a bottle, made of dark glass, sealed with wax. The sailor who’d lost it to her hadn’t known what he was gambling. Or maybe he had, and hoped the drink would do what luck had not.

She spotted Aziel in the stillness before the storm, sleeves rolled, brow creased — working, with an expression suggesting he was carrying the bones of this island on his back. “I hear you’ve gone soft, Aziel,” she purred, setting the bottle down with a gentle clink. “Feeding hungry children. Kindness, from the devil’s own tavern. I had to see it with my own eyes.”

But there was little mockery in her voice tonight. Just that slow, deliberate cadence she used when she allowed her mask to slip. Her dark gaze observed tavern keeper, her gaze eager to capture his. “I want in. Whatever you’re doing, whoever you're trying to protect— I want to help.” A dance of red silk as she positioned herself behind the bar, taking up space closer to him —flame and fury dressed in silks, heart bared behind lashes.

“I can’t feed the island. But if fortune favors it, I can steal for it. Lie for it. Win coin for it in back rooms full of vipers.” Her voice dropped, suitable for a more private conversation. “Let me be of use, Aziel. Let me give back this once… before there's nothing left to save.”

[brknsails]

the voice made her blood run cold, stilling every bone in her body. she blamed herself for this happening, for being too slow with looting the body, for leaving the ship and thinking she would avoid seeing him. after a second of realizing the situation she had unintentionally gotten herself into, she continued to loot the body for any valuables. she still had a purpose out here and that was to help her crew as much as she could. in the meantime, as he spoke, she tried to think of what to do once she was done searching the corpse. he sounded different and the same all at once. did he look the same? she wondered, already feeling the clutch in her chest.

it had been given or take three years since they last saw each other. she can remember the night before as if it were yesterday, every touch of his still lingered on her skin, every word whispered still echoed in her mind, every second of it still raw in her memory. and she remembers the morning after, when she left without a trace of where she going, without even a reason left behind, as if it had only happened this morning. despite the fact that she had been to tortuga multiple times before tonight, delilah remained a phantom in dorian’s life since their last night together three years ago.

the way he kept talking amused her. but at his last question, and having gotten any valuables she found off the body, she slowly raised to her feet. keeping her back to him, she looks forward while she speaks, “he’s proper dead. as useless now, as he was in living.” the man didn’t even really have anything to offer, except for a bit of coin, but he had made the deadly mistake of trying to turn a blade on her. she lets out a sigh as soft as a feather, finally turning around to face him. after all this time, here they were again. “dorian.”

@brknsails — dorian & delilah ; an alleyway

the smuggler was supposed to meet him an hour ago. dorian didn't exactly hold pirates' timekeeping in high regard, but he felt that shift in his bones, that complete disregard for naivety as the feeling that something had gone wrong settled into his gut. he shouldn't have been surprised, it was the way most things ended up in this port, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

dorian had nothing against smugglers, everyone earned a living somehow, but it irritated him enough that he had come to have to rely on them — even more so when they seemed to disappear at the opportune moment. he decided he would snoop around a little before eventually resigning to the nest, as empty handed as he'd left it. perhaps he'd attended the wrong alleyway, and there was still hope yet.

as he rounded a few corners, he saw a suspicious-looking figure knelt over a body. the body he'd been waiting for for an hour. "ay dios mío." he grumbled, his hunger getting the better of him and letting vexation take over. his feet were carrying him down the alleyway before he could think, his boots clicking off of the stone with each step. he didn't slink like a pirate might, he had been born loud with a desire to be seen.

"excelente. a corpse where i expected cargo. i needed this idiota." he still couldn't see the figure crouching down, no discernible features able to be made out with their back turned and hood up. "now i have to explain to a house full of half-starved sirens that our dinner plans were stabbed in an alleyway. is he at least half-way dead or have you finished the job completely?"

[brknsails]

[  nathalie emmanuel, cis woman , thirty-six, she/her ] for the crimes of piracy DELILAH DUARTE / THE BELLADONNA is hereby wanted. those who surrender them dead or alive to the crown will receive ONE HUNDRED  pounds. they’re famously known to be part of the THE HARBINGER as their SHADES. before engaging be warned as they can be TEMPERAMENTAL AND FLEETING, but if you’re lucky they’ll be CHARMING AND COURAGES. legends say that when you speak their name you’re reminded of GOLDEN FLAME FLICKERING IN A CRUMBLING CASTLE, UNTETHERING YOURSELF FROM EVERYTHING YOU LOVE, GASPS AS SOFT AS FEATHERS.

basics.

name: delilah durate

nickname: lilah (reserved), belladonna

age: thirty-six

gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her

sexuality: pansexual

occupation: one of the shades of the harbinger

relationship status: single

children: none.

song: you don't own me -lesley gore

appearance.

hair: dark brown, naturally curly, short

eyes: dark brown (in dimly lit and brightly lit settings)

tattoos: her mark as a pirate, that is all

scars: none (yet)

piercings: one earring on her left ear

biography.

murder tw, baby loss tw,

like many that came before you, you were born on the sun-bleached, lawless speck called tortuga. you're born a wild child with a wild heart; daughter of a pirate and a siren. the air that reeks of rum, salt, and gunpowder runs been in your veins. but in you a garden grows, one that blossoms a natural curiosity to explore and to love.

you have a touch that is as soft as the petals of a flower, while you’re trained to strike with the ferocity of a lioness. you’re mother teaches you how to use your voice as a weapon, to achieve what you desired, and your father teaches you the ways of the sea. you grow up learning about the ocean and the different tides that it creates. you learn about the stars and which ones will guide you when you’re lost. a tiny blade becomes your closest companion from childhood until you reach womanhood. even though you grow up in a town covered in muddy streets, you become an untouchable flower growing amongst chaos.

you’re twenty when one night an invasion occurred in your home while you and your mother were laying down to rest. she tells you to stay hidden beneath the floorboards, to stay as silent as a phantom, no matter what happens. and you bare witness to the senseless act of murder, created due a rivalry that involved your father. they searched for you, but no avail. you don’t see your father again and you figure he must have received the same fate. a few days later, you find a new home in the siren’s nest; it becomes your sanctuary for a handful of years.

then one day, you flee. you leave the only shores you’ve ever known in exchange for a freedom you did not want. the sea becomes your home now, aboard a ship named the harbinger. your purpose is her, your loyalty becomes vidar’s, and your blade is used to slay in their name.

headcanons

worked as a siren for the nest for a couple of years, before it was taken over by dorian salazar. to this day, everything with dorian feels like it was just a fever dream. there was a passion and intense intimacy between the two of them that set delilah's soul on fire, but ultimately, she flees to the sea. all because there was a chance that she was pregnant with his child.

she gets on the first ship out of tortuga without even leaving a note explaining her actions. all she could think is that he would be upset or she would be the reason that he would be trapped in an unhappy life with her. and even after she discovers she isn't pregnant [anymore], delilah does not return to his side. instead she finds a home on the harbinger and has been serving vidar loyally for two years now.

her spirit is eternally locked in a flame that engulfs her with the vibrant light of life. she’s not afraid to flirt with someone, nor afraid to dance in a crowded room alone, to sing when she thinks no one is watching, to smell the flowers if they are there, and she loves every ounce of life. the good, the bad, everything. she loves the stars as much as she loves the laughter of those around her.

[brknsails]

NATHALIE EMMANUEL as Gwendoline Starr in ARMY OF THIEVES (2021)

[brknsails]

“no, do not worry yourself.” silas wanted to tell vidar how this could have been the last bit of supplies he had and he would have shared them without hesitation, without a payment required. it was silas’s way of showing he cared. “take what you need, vidar. i will have a restock of supplies in a few days. we will be okay here.” his hand ached to reach out and touch the other man; wanting to give him a squeeze of reassurance, perhaps, or simply just aching to feel the warmth of his skin against his cold one. instead he busied himself with moving over to where the blade he was working in sat, distracting himself with that instead. his fingers ran slowly across the blade, feeling for imperfections.

this week brimstone stood strong, next week? silas did not want to think about. it was clear to anyone who knew silas beyond the mask he placed for others that the blacksmith was worried. every night was survival of the fittest in tortuga and he wondered how long before the invasion to brimstone took place. when would the smugglers act? when would the charter simply take it over? he had to ask himself these questions because he needed to find a way to survive when that time came. he had gotten so distracted in these thoughts that he had lost concentration on the blade hand, lightly cutting his fingers against the sharp metal. “shit,” he hissed, sighing. cuts were not foreign to him, though it did irk him that he had allowed it to happen in front of vidar.

silas moves to a small barrel full of water to begin cleaning the small cut, silently cursing himself. he is in the middle of trying to find a rag to help him ease the bleed a bit when he hears vidar’s response at the end, which slows him down a bit in his tracks, the weight of those words were heavy on silas. heavy because they meant so much to hear from vidar. “thank you.” he replies, softer than usual. then he moves to grab a needle and some thread for stitching. the rag was closer to vidar and out of fear of making the man uncomfortable by getting too close, silas doesn’t reach for it. instead he sits by the light of the stone oven, eyes squinting in the dimness, trying to stitch his cut closed. “will you return soon?” he asked, figuring vidar was going to vanish the moment he had the supplies needed this evening.

he always appreciated silas' work ethics, maybe it was one of the first few things that drew him to the man when they first met, vidar came to him to sharpen his blade and fix his jammed pistol he didn't like using in the first place, too much noise for someone who liked being in the shadows but sometimes it was a necessity. vidar never felt that want to see someone ever, to seek them out just for the chance to see their faces again and yet with silas it was different.

weapons wasn't what they needed but given how the desperation in the island was growing, it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibilities eventually, than again vidar has had times when he did much with a small pocket knife, so for now he felt like the harbinger was okay, it was the materials and ammunitions themselves that were kind of the problem when he really came to think about it and just as an excuse to see the blacksmith.

"how much?" vidar didn't bring with him any coin, they were running out of them slowly but for the sake of keeping with the lie he could always say to silas that he will bring the coin to him, which will and never was a lie. "just a few." a box here, a sharpening stone there; just enough for the crew to have but not so much that it will ruin silas' forge. vidar looked up at silas at the last words, because he felt the same. he did. and yet in his brain it was so much more complicated than that. vidar nodded at first, trying to find the words that yes, he was happy to see that silas was safe and it was weirdly comforting to see him again but all that ended up coming out was "i- you too."

[brknsails]

“no, don’t do that. do not give me sympathy. i do no need it nor do i like it. even more, do not apologize for the actions of others.” silas’s voice was firm but gentle, he wasn’t trying to be mean towards ryker. he knew that was a normal reaction out of humans with a good heart, partially why he refused to tell anyone his story outside of a few selected individuals. ryker’s heart squeezed will silas’s continued unmoved. he had given up on letting himself ache over it, once he had accepted it was all moot point. “it is unlikely to happened, but thank you.” now he wasn’t trying to be a gloomy asshole but the chances of them crossing paths and recognizing each other was nearly impossible.

silas remained quiet as ryker began to open his door, also looking out at the ocean as he listened. and now, it was his hearts turn to ache for the other man. anger also boiled for him, thinking of his daughter in the process. he wondered if she thought he had willing given her up, and he wondered how a mother could so easily do something like that to their own flesh and blood. “that is unfortunate to hear,” silas replied, having to fight against his own words from earlier. “where is your father now?” a question asked out of curiosity, though he wouldn’t be offended if ryker chose not to answer. “give or take, ten or eleven. she was barely a year old when it happened. so you can see why it is difficult for me to think one day i could be her father once more.”

silas nodded at the response about the tide, finding that he agreed with ryker. but, then his world darkened again. he looked to ryker, “no.” he had not confessed that to anyone, hadn’t even told himself that out loud, until now. there was a thickness that formed in his throat, related to sadness and anger. “every day supplies get more scarce, it’s becoming harder to keep our fire burning. i keep my doors shut in hopes to blend in more and keep what little we have from dwindling faster. it does not matter. i can no longer make weapons, merely fix the ones handed to me. soon i will not be able to do even that. trading has become more dangerous by the second and every time i go to trade for supplies i never know if it’ll be my last breath. i see the hungry children and i think of my daughter.” there was an ache in his voice, soft yet there. “ i am at a loss. i have not told lebas this, he does not need to worry about this too, and i have someone else who relies on me too. how do i tell them there is no hope? how do tell them that soon brimstone will be but a stone wall, and i can not stop it from happening?” it was the hard truth, if nothing changed. “how is the nest?”

ryker heart squeezed at silas' confession to his broken heart. "i'm so sorry to hear that, silas." it suddenly made him wonder if the stories he heard over the years of his mother basically handing him to his father were true, but than again his father never spoken any ill towards her, as if he understood why she wouldn't want a child to be associated with a pirate. "i hope you'll find her one day, giving you the chance to be a father." ryker said quietly, contemplating whatever or not to tell his own story but than decided he had nothing to lose.

"i never knew my mother, i was told she basically left me with my father and ran." ryker shrugged his shoulder and looked towards the ocean, once again thinking of the father that tried to give him some sort of life despite most of it being at sea. he wasn't a perfect father but he tried his best until his last breath. "how old would she be now? three or?" he asked out of curiosity, it wasn't every day that silas opened up to him and ryker was taking the chance to know a little bit about the man.

he tilted his head, trying to find an answer to silas question. "the tide? i know it has caused us trouble in the past few days but it's still magical, looking soothing almost. though i would rather tortuga won't be hit with another tide." ryker tried to laugh but it was dry and his heart squeezed. they had worst things to worry about now though, didn't they? "is the forge doing okay?" he asked.

[brknsails]

aziel nodded at the requested rum, reaching for the nearest bottle of their finest rum. celia only got the best, as did those he considered family of the cask. “it’s a little of both. most nights the event is trying to see which one of these drunken rascals can out drink the other, boring really, tonight happened to be a rare occurrence.” contrary to popular belief, aziel did not wake up on the side of violence every day. they wished they weren’t so violent, truth be told. “finest rum in the house, just for ye.” he poured her a glass, carefully sliding it over to her. while he was at it az also poured themselves a glass, setting the bottle closely beside them.

“cheers, eh?” az grinned, taking his share down in one generous gulp. the liquor didn’t even burn going down anymore, hardly even felt it when it settled. az can not remember that last time he felt the familiar burn of a whiskey trickling down, the tingle he once got from a first sip, hardly remembers what it was like to drink for pleasure instead of necessity. he was scared to go sober for too long, knowing how sick he got every time he tried. without hesitation he poured another glass, and filled celia’s to top off what she had drank. at least with his whiskey he would one day die the same as he lived; a drunken fool.

he takes another sip of his newly poured drink, drinking half this time. for a second he scanned the tavern, ultimately turning back to celia, “how be things on the harbinger, celia? are ye managing alright? do ye need anything?” every day things dried more and more in tortuga. every day, aziel found ways to survive. they would extend a hand to anyone, especially those he considered family of the cask.

there was a time where celia would recoil from such violence. it wasn't in her nature. but the few years as a pirate had hardened her and she wasn't about to cringe from the show of force now. she had seen much, much worse on the ships. she knew that this one wouldn't even haunt her dreams that evening. some that she knew you do more than chop off a hand if someone had shown them an ounce of the disrespect that aziel had been shown.

celia settled in on a stool at the bar as aziel settled the crowd. that was one part of the job at the tavern that celia didn't miss. it had never been something that she had been particularly good at back then. she was too soft. that girl wasn't her anymore.

a small smile slipped onto her lips as he turned to her, "thank you." she nodded, "i'll take rum tonight, i think." she nodded. she placed her elbows on the bar and her chin in her hands, "has this place been eventful? or is that a rare occurrence for today?" she glanced to the man and then back at her friend.

[brknsails]

"oh, yes." of course, supplies. silas was not sure what he had expected to hear, supplies were typically why people visited brimstone. he walks toward the candle lit lanterns that adorned the walls, quickly blowing each one out, making sure to dim the shop as much as he possibly could. enough to have it blend in with the night but not enough so they could not entirely see. he nodded to the back of the shop, "come." silas led the way back to where the stone oven burned bright, the only light illuminating the shop. it was his own way of making sure they were kept safe as possible should someone try to break in, at least they wouldn't spot where he kept his valuables right off the bat.

the dimness of the shop might also have to do with himself a bit, perhaps a way of trying to avoid glancing at vidar for too long while he was here. as he entered the room the blacksmith returns the sword to the wall which it had once hung. everything in brimstone was organized to fit in its own spot, it would drive him mad if things were not in the right spot, silas had always been a very organized person. he did his best work when he was not around clutter, after all. he turns from the wall the sword hung on, "weapons, if you should need them." he gestured to the axes, hammers, crossbows, and the sword. all the weapons had been ones he had made over time. meanwhile silas made his way over to a corner that had barrels covered and crates resting on top said barrels.

he brought a crate over to his workbench that was near the light, waiting for vidar to come closer before opening it. "i have ammunition in this one," he looked to the other one, "gun power in that one. the barrels have supplies too." he returned his gaze to look at vidar, "take what you need for you and your people. it's yours, anything you want." in a couple of days he would meet with the client behind the sword he was finishing up tonight and he'd gain a few more supplies. even if that had not been the case, silas would've been generous with vidar regardless. "it's nice to see you, vidar. good to see you are in one piece." he cracked a small warm smile, the kind of smile reserved just for their moments alone.

he was beyond busy, between trying to fight for resources for the harbinger and his crew; vidar had little time to think about anybody else. smugglers were the clear choice in order to get what they needed but greed was taking over them, as if they were dreaming on a moment such as this. yet, despite it all he found himself standing in front brimstone, telling himself that it was just to check that silas as well, just to make sure that the shop was still standing.

truth to be told if he really wanted to get in quietly, he could've. but the footsteps were deliberate, both to let silas hear and to see whatever or not the man was even in the shop considering it appeared closed. it was too easy to get in, too easy to wait until sails came towards him clearly armed to protect his shop against any intruder. if vidar didn't have his usual poker face, he would've smiled.

vidar raised an eyebrow at the sight of the sword in silas' hand, it would've been amusing if he had attacked him and unlike many, lived to tell the tale. the question caught him off guard almost, why was he here? to make sure nobody stormed the forge looking to steal everything? to make sure silas was okay despite feeling like he had no right?

"supplies," vidar said, clearing his throat. it was the first excuse he could think about and a valid one at that, a few sharpening stones, bullets for their guns— anything to protect themselves against those who would seek to steal out of desperation, so all and all vidar wasn't lying. "not much." he clarified, since he knew that everyone in town was trying to keep whatever little they had for as long as they could.

[brknsails]

self-control, empathy, and logical thinking had failed to develop within aziel. rather what developed was his creative thinking, and an imagination to feed it. the more they tried to restrain the animal that lived in his core, the harder it would fight to come out. it was driving him insane. needless to say, he thrived in a chaotic environment. without it the animal was left to feed off what he could find it in, which tonight, would be the victim kneeled to the ground before them.

aziel didn't really consider him a victim given it had been the same man who had spat in his face not so many nights prior to this encounter. it was pure coincidence that they ran into each other, unfortunately for the man. he watched as rika had her fun with him, unable to wipe the smirk from his lips. the universe did not always give him gifts, but it certainly delivered when it did. he looks over at her, "ye spoil me too much."

he waved to the man as he approached him, " my friend, do ye remember me? it's been a couple sundowns since that night, eh? still, no coin." he reached out to cup the man's chin, "no worries. yer debt, consider it repaid. for yer beautiful sacrifice tonight, eh?" letting go of the man's face, az positions himself behind him. aziel's fingers curled into the man's hair, gripping it hard, roughly pulling it back so he could whisper in their ear, "look at her." he positions the man's head so he was forced to stare up at rika, "look how beautiful she is." his eyes were locked with rika's as he spoke, "soft skin and a blade ready to gut ye. she'll be the last face ye will see before the darkness takes over entirely." he tilts his head a little to the side to look at the side of the man's face, noticing the guy had his eyes shut tightly. aziel sighed softly, "have ye gone deaf since our last conversation?"

in one swift movement he jabbed his fingers into one of the man's eyes, "i said look at her." the louder the man screamed the more he fed the hunger in az's soul. he scraped against the man's socket, getting a good grip of the eye, then yanking at full force. he stood up with the eye in hand and calmly walked to place it a small distance from them, making sure to position it so it was facing their direction. "there. now he has the best view of the show." az looked to rika, “he owed me a debt. see, i told ye, the gods deliver when yer least expecting it.” he looked back to the man, who continued to plead even though it didn’t matter. “i don't know about ye, gorgeous, but i am tired of hearing the begging. he's not even turnin' me on as he does it."

@brknsails — rika & aziel ; under the docks

the warm spurt of blood across rika's face was more satisfying than any spray of sea air. she was being driven to madness being stuck at this port but it wasn't the open water or adventure that she craved, it was the chaos of it all. she hated the feeling of a leash around her neck but at least now, under the bright light of the moon shining through the slats of the jetty above them, she had a smile on her face. teeth sharp and stained with blood.

things were only getting worse in tortuga and rika had to take action the only way she knew how — a knife in her hand and a victim at her mercy. no one would miss this poor bastard, no one would even care to hear his screams in the dead of night, most likely hidden anyway by the port that never rested. and no matter his protests, rika insisted that he wouldn't mind dying slowly for her, piece by piece.

she took a step back from him, pulse racing and chest heaving, and glanced at aziel by her side. her look was feral, eyes wide and teeth bared, and she gave him a nod. "your turn. never tell me i don't share."

[brknsails]

"never." now he was just teasing a bit, ryker had technically done just that. they both stared out into the ocean, unbeknownst to them, both with a silent ache in their hearts from a previous life. a life that as much as he sought to find pieces of again the man also tried desperately to let go of. it was hard to accept that it was one of those things probably left to the sea.

he didn't answer ryker's question right away but rather watched him as he continued to speak. the response to his own question made him slowly nod, returning his gaze to the ocean when ryker mentions the waters. "a merman. i can see that, actually. i think you're more of a merman than a siren," he admits. "it is always beautiful when the waters are calm, especially as of late." silas sighed, taking another generous sip of the flask. after handing it back to ryker, silas leaned back to rest on his elbows and stretch out a little more. he kept his gaze towards the ocean, "before coming to tortuga, i met a woman. she would go on to become the mother of my child...for a little while." he bitterly chuckled, "she takes my kid one day, leaves behind a note, tells me she's found another and she's doing it for the good of our child." silas shook his head, "i searched the ocean for them for three years before finally settling in tortuga."

now his gaze travelled up to the night sky, "i seek hope that one day the sea will reunite me with my daughter, but it's not like i would know what she looked like. she probably does not even know i exist." silence falls for a moment as he lets his story simply hang in the air for a moment. not really caring if there was a reaction to it or not. "but," he adds, more lightheartedly, looking to ryker now, "much like yourself, i also just like the ocean. i find that as much as it hurts, it also heals a part of me to be here. do you have something that you like most about the water?"

"got you to smile, didn't i? well, kindda." ryker shrugged, feeling nothing but ease next to silas despite the aura that plagued him. he never cared about it, as long as silas was friendly that was all that mattered at the end of the day. he turned from the other man to look at the sea as well, already feeling that ache in his heart from something that was clearly in his previous life.

at the words of the man ryker turned out, not expecting such a bold answer after the months they've been meeting on and off. he has had clients tell him about their lives before, as if he was their personal ear; telling him secrets and thinking they were safe when in reality should said secrets be of value, they always serve the nest first. because at the end of the day he was a siren, but ryker wasn't at the end right now and here, he wasn't a siren. "can i ask who or what? you don't have to tell me." he asked gently, out of curiosity and wondering how much pain does silas have.

ryker took the flask with a smile, taking a sip himself and already feeling better as he felt the familiar burn going down his throat. "i just like the ocean." he lied easily. "it's beautiful when the waters are calm, isn't it?" ryker sighed, very little people knew of his past and he liked keeping it that way. "i imagine myself a sea creature like a merman." he grinned and laughed.

[brknsails]

status: closed for dorian ( @cursedsails ) location: the devil's cask

the doors of his beloved tavern no longer stayed open until the wee hours of the morning, rather they closed before the hour got too late. people chose to stay at times, yet he urged most of them to head home to safety. on a normal day it was not smart to be out in tortuga after a certain hour, unless you were either a local or knew your way around a weapon. these days it was even more dangerous to be out, especially dunk. it pained him to see what his home was turning into. every day the fire to fight ignites more within his bones.

except tonight, tonight he sought only to comfort. comfort the one person who stayed behind. he looked over in the direction the man was in with a brow knitted in concern, watching as the weight of what was happening pressed down on him. tortuga was suffering, slowly being snuffed out from the inside, and it pained him to see how it was affecting those around him.

especially people he considered close, like dorian. he finished locking up the last bit of locks and dimmed the lights low enough that they could relax in the darkness without tripping over things, and to give a signal to anyone passing by that the tavern was closed for the evening. he makes his way over to where dorian is, grabbing the bottle on the table to refill his cup. "yer goin' to get wrinkles if ye keep overthinkin'," az advised, not that he could blame the man. these days his own mind was preoccupied as well with thoughts on how they were going to make it through another day, how he would keep the tavern going. what he could do to help and survive at the same time.

he stepped behind dorian, gently rubbing both his temples simultaneously, "how does that feel?"