#( muse: brant. )

[captain-ofthefools]

About Muse -

Captain Brant

Brant ! [ Wuthering Waves ]

Age : 26

Pronouns : He/Him

Sexuality : Pansexual

Relationship Status : Single

He is the Captain of a group known as the Troupe of Fools. Sailing the waters of Solaris-3, traversing the lands of his home Rinascita. An outcast with a passion for theatrics and creating a community for those like him, even Echoes become allies and join in the fun.

Idk what else to add . Help .

[the-way-astray]

manifesting a vacker!brant revelation in unraveled

[resonaet]

i find it FASCINATING that phoebe has voicelines abt brant and roccia. obviously she has no idea what the troupe actually is ( that's to say a collection of people, including children, who were sent to their deaths by the order ) but that just brings up its own questions. anyway i think someone should invite pheebs to the elysium and just see how that goes

[anchoraweigh]

What would you like to achieve before you die?

"A rather morbid question, but I can't deny that the thought of accomplishing things before my death has spawned in my mind once or twice before."

Brant doesn't seem all too put-off by the pessimism inherent to that sort of comment, despite his generally optimistic demeanor; anyone who dismissed the very real possibility of dying upon the shores of Penitent's End would be very reckless indeed. He'd lost too many crewmates to the harsh world outside Elysium to discount the idea that he, too, might one day meet his end.

"I'm afraid you'll find no secret wishes hidden under my hat; I've always spoken my goals plainly." As he speaks, he momentarily lifts and tips his hat, as though to physically demonstrate his impossible idiom. "I'd like to take as many steps as possible towards a free and happy Ragunna, of course! And once that's done—as long as I travelled far and wide and scored as much laughter as I could from all who looked upon my performances, I wouldn't be disappointed with my meager accomplishments."

src.

[wordswhisperinthedark]

Rewatching screen recs of scenes in Ciaccona's quest because it was SO GOOD!! ＼(≧▽≦)／

[resolutepath]

"Tsk-tsk," there'd be a poke against the back of the white clad individual from a drawn sword as passing of such a curious individual not having gone unnoticed by the captain.

Curiosity, and perhaps a lingering sense of protection in regards to who and what he stored on board of his docked ship, had driven him to such hasty precaution. Brant knew matched curiosity when he saw it, even if masked well behind glasses. Nothing would get past him, not with the large tortoise dipping in the sea. He knew the faces of most that came and went through the docks of Rinascita and this one was not from these parts.

"Like the fox whose tail turned white from cream thrown in its mischievous pursuit, I believe it would be wise for your curious eyes to perceive the path elsewhere, bear bystander ; there is nothing of interest for you on board of that ship," Brant continued, walking closer to the white haired man's back , leaning a little over his shoulder; "... nor would the captain find himself too pleased with uninvited guests passing from one dock to another, in fact, he might even assist you in a personal, private dip into the almighty sea herself."

Humored by his own words, there'd still be a hum slipping from the masked captain. "You seem to be way beyond the age of someone who would wish to run away with a circus, so what could I do to soothe this curious mind of yours tonight?"

for aalto!

Curiosity has always been perhaps the greatest weapon in his arsenal. Fortune favours the brave and usually he finds himself at the end of an evening reaping the rewards of his endeavours, glad to have taken a leap of faith. Other times, like now, he has to be a tad more wily to shift the sword from his back, so to speak. As a show of good faith, he raises his hands non-threateningly, palms splayed casually either side of his head, while lips quirk in an affable smile that can be tossed over his shoulder at his assailant.

"Hey now, friend, I am not your enemy here. Just a passing wanderer with an eye for a good ship and a seeker of good stories in the places I find myself in." A good-natured laugh follows as he tips his head. "I have a niece to entertain you know!" Encore does so like to call him Uncle, even if it makes him feel old. Because it makes him feel old.

He had to admire the guy's style at least, it keeps the edge real, the tension clear from both the sword at his back but the whisper ever so much closer, giving the hint of danger, the dagger that might slip between his ribs at any interval marring his snowy costume in stains of red. Well he couldn't expect less of Rinascita, could he? This place was known for its showmanship. He might even applaud if he felt it would set the right tone for the meeting.

"Well I'd feel mighty honoured if the captain wanted to offer me some one to one, personal time, I'm sure that's not a privilege afforded to just anyone..." His tone carefully place this time, an edge of mirth for those that can appreciate a well-timed joke, a sprinkle of admiration for those looking to be adored. It's a simple mix to keep an accord, enough charm to seem harmless, enough wit to seem ridiculous, nothing to play the cards held to his chest. Yet.

Ah but the final question changes the tone, words asked with a hum, query posed and a smile settles upon his lips. "Well, there is one thing you might do..." A tip of the head, a gleam of golden hues from behind sunglasses that divulge a calculating demeanour that has been almost entirely absent until now and then a burst of white, the mists coalescing, twisting in the space he once was, letting him flee in their shroud, at least enough to garner some distance, to settle himself on the edge of the ship's railings nonchalantly.

"I'm looking for information, on a person and an object." The smile that sits on his face is different this time, this time it is a smile from a wolf's maw, and behind his sunglasses his eyes narrow shrewdly.

"So, know anyone by the name of Rover?"

@avaere

[fooltroupe]

to make a writing blog for nami or to not make one, that's the question man

[dd-wyd]

It's that time again

Did y'all notice, that the credits show who you've helped during the game? I was missing (only) two this time around. I assume one is Wilhelmina, but I dunno the other.

Also, can confirm, you can have literally anyone as a lover in the credits. I worked hard on making sure it'll be Eugene this time. Just look at him! (He's also buff af, which I only discovered when he stalked me to the hot springs LOL)

Also I managed an entire year this time (nice)!

[emmatriarchy]

@collectingmuses asked: 'ʘ‿ʘ' - any ship you feel, if you feel it. meme

"You mean it?" She asked, uncharacteristically self conscious and shy. She saw him on TV fight alongside the Black Widow, and a bunch of heroes in skin tight costumes. Meanwhile she was reasonably fit but not superhero fit. While she trusted him not to cheat on her... she was feeling a bit on edge, a bit uncertain about their future together. So when he affirmed that she was sexy in his eyes, it meant the world to her.

Of course, she knows that their compatibility goes beyond the physical, that they know each other and love each other for who they are. Insecurities still gnawed at her sometimes.

"Maybe I could dress up for you..." she proposed, trying to sound lighthearted and amused.

[kingofwaywardsouls]

@gemscales-and-tea // cont.

So that's where his one-sided mask was! This boy had it all along! The pirate was looking for that. He recalls his mask having fallen off his face when he was fighting some carcasses and puppets. Unfortunately since he was out-numbered, he had to retreat.

"I was getting worried I'd have lost it for good."

The moment the puppet held out the pirate's mask, Brant raised an eyebrow, wondering if the puppet may have some kind of trick up his sleeve. Sure the mask was special to him, but as far as Brant had experienced in Krat, almost nothing was so easy to obtain or even get through. Someone could lose something and then never get it back. Some would even die trying to get their belongings back.

"...You're just going to hand that back to me just like that? No tricks up your sleeve? No need to fight for it? Nothing at all?"

The puppet didn't look like he had any harmful intentions, but that was only what he looked like physically. Brant had to be cautious and he hoped this puppet didn't have any intentions to harm him.

[captain-ofthefools]

‘ In the face of danger and adversity, the stage is set for our grandest act ! ’

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

RULES !

NO NSFW !! Mod is a MINORRRR .

Basic DNI list type crap , let us be civil !

Due to little being known abt muse at this time , expect headcanons and potential inconsistent content until mod is able to due his research .

No sexuality arguments on our wonderful pirate ‘ s blog ! Simply find one that fits your preferences more if you care that much ! /lh

Mod is in school , and resides in EST timezone . Please respect any time differences and periods where he may not respond .

As for ships , any are okay ! Mod is a multishipper . ( NO ILLEGAL SHIPS . )

Basic RP stuff Mod uses

[] - OOC

“” - Dialogue

⚓︎ ⚓︎ ⚓︎ ⚓︎ ⚓︎

⚓︎ ⚓︎ ⚓︎ ⚓︎ ⚓︎

Tags -

the stage is set 🎭 - IC

when the curtain falls 🩵 - OOC

your captain has the answers 🏴‍☠️ - Asks

my wonderful first mate 🗝️ - Roccia Mentions/Interactions

the star of the show ✨ - F/M Rover Mentions/Interactions

shattered sea of glass ❄️ - Carlotta Mentions/Interactions

horned guard of Montelli 🛡️- Zani Mentions/Interactions

crown of thorns 🌟 - Phoebe Mentions/Interactions

Do tell if anyone should be added to this list .

About Muse <— Please Read 🙏

This is the Mod’s first ever RP account . Please be respectful and patient !!

Feedback is also greatly appreciated !!

Moderator - @mukurose

[diverse-hearts]

@eternallyserpentinebutterfly asked:

"You must be Brant correct? Nice to meet you young man."

Random Ask - Always Welcomed!

"That is I!" With a grand flourish does he land before the woman who'd spoken in his direction. He may be a little tipsy, but it's obvious he's just this way in general, even without the drink in him. Okay, maybe he should be a little more careful considering there were now several wanted posters out there with his face plastered on them, but this was simply how he lived his life. Life was simply too short to live being too serious all the time. "And what is the name of the Madain I get to speak with?", he smiled, gently taking her hand and placing a kiss to the back of her knuckles, "If she's not too shy to share, of course".

[waitforurluv]

[emmatriarchy]

"I will kick his ass if he even dares to bring any excuse up for not watching over this adorable child," Betty warned. She was not afraid to speak her mind, and Peter would not escape the tongue lashing if he shirked his responsibilities and duties to MJ and baby May.

That was part of being a friend. She had called in Flash before, and he was bigger and stronger than Peter -- or so she thought.

The squealing, laughing infant was a delight, and she couldn't understand Peter if he didn't want to spend every waking hour by his daughter's side.

But then he had secrets that she was no longer privy to, not that she was aware of forgetting anything about the Parker boy she used to tease at the Bugle, when he was a fledgling photographer, and she just started as Jameson's assistant.

"You and I are long overdue for some girls night out." She winked, trying to give MJ an incentive to ensure her husband was not avoiding his father-daughter bonding time. "I could imagine that dancing in your metallic dress will also do wonders for your confidence."

+ As much as it seemed MAY was feeding off of all the EXCITEMENT in the room, Mary Jane had to admit she was pulling a lot of it from her daughter in return . The charges of the youngest Parker becoming a MINI-MJ weren't going to be beat anytime soon ! At least until a certain INHERITANCE from her FATHER truly kicked in. And as much as she wanted to ponder if it would be an ' if ' , MJ somehow knew in the back of her mind it was truly a matter of ' WHEN ' .

But for now, Mayday was just her little munchkin , and she was going to SAVOR every single moment of it .

" You're gonna SPOIL me with self-confidence . " she teased softly , the smile on her face in absolutely no danger of FALTERING for so much as a single second . Between Mayday and Betty, the only thing missing from this best SUPPORT-GROUP she could ever know was having her husband right here with them to celebrate . But something told her she wouldn't have to wait TOO LONG for that .

" You think I'd have heard ALL of them by now, but you'd be surprised. "

[buglesbettyarc]

tag dump.

[xichilie]

Hello, hope it's fine if I request more than once!

How about a Brant x Reader where she ended up as a Pilgrim herself and endured very traumatic events before being found and saved by Brant and the Troupe. As a result of said events, she never spoke so everyone assumed she was born mute until she eventually speaks to Brant due to feeling safe around him. How would he act before that (thinking that she's mute) and how would he react when hearing her voice for the first time?

Hello 👋

It's fine. You can send as many requests as you like ♡

Brant x (fem) reader

A silent voice

The moment Brant saw her, huddled among the wreckage of yet another forsaken Pilgrim’s Sail, he knew she had suffered greatly. She was thin, her clothes torn and ragged from the unforgiving trials of Penitent’s End, and her eyes—haunted, wary—spoke of horrors she would never utter. Or so he thought.

The Troupe of Fools had found her on one of their rescue missions, bringing her back to the hidden refuge of Fool’s Elysium. Like many before her, she was taken in, clothed, fed, and given a space to heal. But unlike the others, she never spoke a word. Not even in pain, not even in comfort.

At first, Brant assumed she was mute, like some of the others who had survived the journey. Many who faced the Dragon of Dirge lost more than their voices—some their minds, others their very will to live. Yet, despite her silence, she was strong. She adapted, she learned the unspoken rhythms of their troupe, and she carved out a place for herself amongst them.

Brant, ever the performer, took it upon himself to entertain her. Whether it was through grand gestures, exaggerated tales, or whispered stories in the quiet glow of the cavern fires, he would always find a way to bring some light into her somber eyes. It became a routine—him speaking, her listening, her presence a comfort he never knew he needed.

Still, the silence lingered, an invisible barrier between them. A part of him ached for her, wishing he could ease whatever suffering had stolen her words. But he never pushed. He never asked. He simply stayed.

Until one night, when everything changed.

The storm raged outside Fool’s Elysium, the entrance sealed with heavy tarps to keep the howling winds at bay. The firelight flickered, casting shadows against the stone walls, and Brant found her in her usual spot—knees drawn to her chest, staring into the flames. He approached as he always did, settling beside her, his warmth a familiar presence in the cavern’s cool embrace.

“I suppose you’re waiting for another tale,” he mused, voice tinged with the soft lilt of amusement. “Or perhaps a song? Something tragic and romantic, fitting for such a dreadful night?”

She didn’t move, but he felt her gaze shift toward him, the weight of her unspoken thoughts pressing between them. He exhaled, leaning back on his hands. “You know, I always imagined my soulmate would be someone loud. Someone who could match my theatrics word for word. But here you are, proving me an absolute fool.”

A small, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. Not quite a smile, but enough to make his heart lurch. He continued, emboldened. “But I don’t mind. You don’t need to speak for me to know what you’re thinking. It’s in your eyes. Always in your eyes.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the storm outside, the distant echoes of laughter from the others deeper within the cavern. And then—

“…Brant.”

The voice was soft, hoarse from disuse, barely more than a whisper. But it was there. Real. Hers.

Brant froze, his breath catching in his throat. He turned to her, wide-eyed, as if he had imagined it. But she was staring at him, waiting, her fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves. Her expression was uncertain, hesitant, like she had just crossed an invisible threshold and feared what lay beyond it.

His heart pounded. Of all the things he expected in that moment, hearing her voice—hearing her say his name—was not one of them. He opened his mouth, but for once, words failed him.

“Say that again.” His voice was barely above a whisper, a fragile plea carried by the firelight.

She hesitated, then, softer this time—“Brant.”

It was his name, just his name, but it was everything. A single word that shattered the silence, breaking through the walls she had built around herself. And it was for him. Only for him.

A sharp breath escaped him, and before he could stop himself, he surged forward, wrapping his arms around her in a fierce embrace. He felt her stiffen for just a moment before slowly melting into him, her head pressing against his shoulder. He held her tightly, as if anchoring her to the present, as if trying to shield her from every nightmare she had ever endured.

“You spoke,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You actually spoke.”

She nodded against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. He could feel the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clung to him like he was something solid in a world that had once been cruel and uncertain.

He laughed, though it came out choked, overwhelmed. “You… you have no idea how much this means to me.”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her expression softer now, less guarded. “I… feel safe,” she admitted, voice still rough but steady. “With you.”

Brant’s breath hitched, and he cupped her face gently, his pink eyes searching hers. “Then I’ll make sure you always are.”

The storm outside raged on, but inside Fool’s Elysium, wrapped in Brant’s arms, she felt something she hadn’t in a long time—home.

And for the first time since she had arrived, since she had endured the horrors of the pilgrimage and found sanctuary in Fool’s Elysium, she felt something close to peace.

Brant didn’t let go of her hand for the rest of the night.