lightnessmade

[lightnessmade]

"Yeah, turns out deciding to leave the only home you've ever known and thought you'd die in isn't a decision to make in a minute," Finley shrugged that off lightly. He grunted as he was pulled fully on, and the ramp kicked off.

That was it. It was done. He'd left, left home, his family's light house sat darkened on the cove.

"Right. Yeah." He nodded at the instruction. He tugged a thumb over his shoulder, ensuring he had those directions down correctly. "I'll just go and do that, then."

"Took you long enough." He countered back, grabbing the guy and pulling him fully onto the ship from the edge of the plank before moving to shove the large piece of wood off and down to the port help that was waiting to assist with them setting sail. Disconnecting any chance the other had of changing their mind.

Turning he pointed towards the entrance to bellow deck. "Go find a hammock and then head back up here. We'll handle take setting sail." Then he turned, following a hollered direction from Nami and scaling the rigging to let down the main sail.

[lightnessmade]

"Right. Okay, if he knows, that's good," Finley said more to himself than anything else. It was a bare minimum, he suddenly found, not a magic way to grow more courage inside of him.

After a steadying breath, he crossed the final ramp, his feet feeling heavy as they finally set upon the large ship's floorboards. A far larger ship than The First Light; suddenly his little fisherman's boat felt dwarfed. He smiled at the other. "I guess I really am, if you're having me."

He shook his head at the attempt at a joke, knowing full well that there was more truth to Finley's words than there should be. The locals probably would say the lighthouse was cursed once he was gone.

"Luffy knows." Pushing off the rail he crossed his arms, brow arching down at the other as he added. "You coming aboard or what?" Nami was already shouting off instructions for setting sail and he'd need to disconnect the port's ramp from the ship in a few moments. "It's now or never Finley."

[lightnessmade]

"What do I do with it? Nothing, it's been going on for generations. There's not much one can do."

"And what do you do with that? Because that actually sounds like a lot to deal with if I'm going to be honest."

[lightnessmade]

Finley nodded. It had been a while since someone had asked. He never left the town, neither his father or grandfather or great-grandfather before him. People just knew, and the little ones who came up to him, before they realized why everyone else in town hated him, so innocently thought that's just what a lighthouse keeper was, people who made light.

So he raised his hand from where it had been resting on the table, putting it on his lap. Left behind was a small handprint, glowing. He exhaled, and light particles past his lips.

"It'll fade, the handprint." He promised. "Gone long before sundown, maybe less."

make light. he first registers it as just magic. and he's not sure how to feel about that. male channelers were - well, destined to go mad, weren't they? and sitting here with him. but he doesn't call himself a channeler, he doesn't call it the power. the unfamiliarity is something that makes him feel a little uncertain.

he swallows harshly, shifting a little as he looks away from him. it takes a moment before he turns to look at him. "how's it work?" he says, a furrow between his brows as he studies him. he pauses and then lets out a small breath of a laugh. "and i wasn't scared."

[lightnessmade]

"I think, most likely, no one is going to steal my house." Finley offered. He playfully wagged his eyebrows. "They probably think it's cursed."

He smiled about as much as he could. He was still apprehensive about the whole thing like he wasn't quite brave enough to walk up the ramp and onto the ship. "You told the captain about me, right? Only it might be embarrassing for me to turn around now."

@lightnessmade liked for a starter!

"So you actually decided to come." He mused, forearms braced against the rail of the Going Merry as he looked down to the dock below and the dark-haired male upon the worn planks. In truth, he'd not expected Finley to actually come. The other had seemed deeply routed to his home, even with the isolation forced upon him by the villagers. Yet he'd still offered, knowing that if he hadn't Luffy would have. If anything, their captain would want Finley aboard so that he could catch more fish for them, the ever-hungry idiot that he was.

[lightnessmade]

Send "Stumble" for your severely injured muse to fall into my muse's arms.

send "Catch" for the reverse

[lightnessmade]

Finley quietly attended to the fish cooking on the stove top. Zoro was a quiet guy, it seemed, in his own little world. Maybe he was a daydreamer, content to imagine fantastical things; Finley didn't want to interrupt too much.

He carefully plated out Zoro's portion and then his own. Each hand occupied, he padded his way towards the living area and reached out one of them to the swordsman.

"Here you are," He smiled. Finley stood a little taller, peering out to see what Zoro had locked his eyes on. He beamed a little brighter. "Seems unending, doesn't it? All that darkness. Like we're lost at sea already. You shouldn't worry, though. My father used to say, as long as there is a light, no one is alone out there. Not really."

"Not really, just make whatever you feel like." While he enjoyed certain foods, at the end of the day, food was food. A means to fuel his body and so while he'd decided on the main dish, he'd prefer Finley made something from that option that he'd like as well.

Nodding at the thanks he returned to the table. Lounging back in the wooden chair and crossing his ankles as he sipped at his own glass. Gaze drifting to the small window and the sea storm raging outside, darkening the world so that it felt as though this lighthouse was the only thing for miles and miles. The beam of flickering light passing through like a wavering beacon unwilling to give into the darkness. .

[lightnessmade]

"As am I," Finley grinned. It could be a two-way street, after all - there was nothing to say this guy wasn't trying to get into his house to try and sacrifice Finley, after all.

"Oh, no, nothing massive or anything. I'm certainly no Aes Sedai," He laughed that off as best as he could. "But for many generations now, my family has been able to make light. Not too scary, is it?"

it takes him a beat but then he lets out a small laugh. well, he hoped he was messing around. it came out like a joke. but suddenly he's feeling a chill down his back. people with any number of --- talents always seemed to creep up on him, as if they were trying to get their hooks in him. he had come here for a place to sleep. but that didn't mean - he wants to shake the thought and the feeling. so he laughs, because it could be funny enough if he wanted it to be.

"i'm much better company when i'm alive." he says, his tone light, easing his posture once again. "what kind of talents?"

[lightnessmade]

"Do you have a preference when it comes to fish and rice? Sweet sauce, savory, salty? I know a dill creme recipe," Finley offered. He could think of at least one recipe for any of the offerings - a good fisherman would know plenty of ways to cook fish, seeing as it made up a good 90% of his protein intake. That and eggs, really.

"Oh, thank you," He said happily. He took a sip of the alcohol and nodded. It seemed his ability hadn't freaked out the swordsman at all.... which was a really good sign, in his mind, for once.

Watching the other breath literally light into the lamp to light it he remained silent for a long moment. In their travels, they'd met a lot of devil fruit users, but Finley's was probably the most beautiful of the powers he'd seen. Even Ace's fire couldn't compare to the almost ethereal glow produced by the other male.

Attention shifting towards the cabinet that Finley had indicated he rose once more. Pulling out a bottle and two glasses he poured out equal measures of the alcohol. Placing one glass next to the stove for the other before settling back into his chair to wait out the storm.

[lightnessmade]

"No! No! I can't do anything like that at all. But... you know, every town has that family that the people don't like. That family is mine."

"Hate you back in town? Are these curses of yours the reason? Curses....light, you can put curses on people?"

[lightnessmade]

Thank you for always protecting me - Naughty Babe EP6

[lightnessmade]

Send a ⁂ for my muse to take a bullet for yours.

[lightnessmade]

[lightnessmade]

"Mine," Finley said simply. It took him a moment, a slow blink, before some things sort of clicked into place. There were other places he could have put Isaac. His grandfather's bedroom, his father's with the ensuite. The old office upstairs had once been a guest bedroom, but with no one ever visiting, they had taken apart the murphy bed and repurposed it long ago. "Sorry. I guess, I still have a mental block about putting you in my granddad's or dad's room... just feels a bit rude."

He tilted his head once, watching as Isaac seemed to think. He shook his head and turned to go back into the kitchen, pulling on the old, 40s fridge and grabbing some eggs.

"Spiked? Do we need to inform the police or something?" he asked. "How would you like your breakfast?"

"Oh... yeah that makes more sense than me thinking you bought it cause I asked for it..." he trailed off a blush creeping up his cheeks from his own stupidity. Isaac scratched the back of his neck with an impish smile tugging at the corner of his lips before he grabbed the jar of pickles.

"Yeah, no, I have a feeling I know what was up with it. Some of my friends likes spiking the booze," he said matter of factly as he thought back to the bottle he drank from. "Thanks. I'm just glad I didn't embarrass myself too badly. Just a question, who's bed was I in?"

[lightnessmade]

"... because I also like pickles?" Finley was confused. Should he not have a jar of pickles? It seemed like a decent staple food, good for a snack, hard to go bad.

He chuckled and held out the jar. "I suppose the alcohol was a bit stronger than you expected, then. I've heard that happens, no judgment from me."

"I'll take your word for it. I just never found couches to be too comfortable to sleep on," he murmured as he watched Finley move into the kitchen. "I-... you actually have a jar of pickles. Why do you have a jar of pickles?" Isaac asked curiously as he looked at the jar. He did love pickles, especially on a sandwich with turkey.

"If you say so. I honestly only have blurry memories of what I did last night. Did not mean to get that drunk."

[lightnessmade]

Finley tucked his slippers back on and stood up, his pajamas mostly still neat enough from the night. "Just because it's old doesn't mean its lumpy. We Yarrows take care of our antiques!"

He grinned and made his way to the kitchen. Without another word, he returned with a pickle jar. "I promised you that you'd have plenty of pickles come morning."

He chuckled. "Your only antics were regarding pickles, I promise. Nothing to be embarrassed over."

"Still doesn't seem all the comfortable..." Isaac mumbled and he could feel a blush creep up his cheeks at the mention of pickles being his one true love. "So... yeah I like pickles a lot... how much did I embarrass myself last night? I know I may have been a bit drunk..."

[lightnessmade]

"Oh I slept on this old thing plenty of times," Finley promised, waving off that mild concern. He sat up, the quilt falling off his chest as he raised. "I'm pretty sure your one true love is pickles, actually."

"Huh?" Isaac was utterly confused when Finley just uttered the word pickles as a question. It did jog something in his mind. "Did I ask for pickles?" He asked as he went over to the other side of the couch and sat down by Finley's feet.

"Also, this can't have been comfortable to sleep on..."