#Docker Captain

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Steadfast 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, obsession, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: King!Bucky Barnes (Medieval AU)

A Knights, Kings, and Knaves Story

Summary: you serve Duke Rogers, but when his friend, the king, takes an interest, you find your work in turmoil.

Note: I’ve wanted to do medieval drabbles for years. I bit the bullet and now we’re all doomed. I was torn on whether to make this one Stucky however… I think Steve deserves a wifey in his own installment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The days turn gray as you ride for the river. The nights are short but dark. You sleep by a fire under the king's cloak as he keeps watch. He dozes astride, often lurching and snoring behind you. His heat, his proximity, grows familiar if not smothering.

For all your life, the divide between servant and master has been kept wide. That rift between you always steep and retractable. Now, it is nothing but a whisper.

The king's hand remain on the reins despite his fatigue. Yours are lower down on the leather. You wear the mittens of lamb's wool he found for you along with a plain but lined cloak. He is a masterful barterer.

The horse snorts as it descends the bump incline. The smell of water dampens in your nose and nips at your cheeks. You see a dock ahead along the coastline. There are boats and barges, voices hollering up into the sky, the grind of wood and billow of sail. You lean forward and squint to see it clearer.

"Gander's Crossing." The king startles you with the declaration as he straightens in the saddle. "It will lead us to sea. It is those deeper tides I worry for."

"Worry?" The word wisps from you before you can stop it.

"Yes, even I worry," he assures you. "Why shouldn't I when I have more than myself to trouble my soul?"

"A whole kingdom," you murmur, "your highness."

He hushes you. "Certainly, yes, a people alone."

You rock with the horse as he guides it down the stony pass. He waves as he comes closer to the dockers and calls 'ho'. He dismounts as you feel gazes in your direction. You stay with the horse as he speaks with a captain.

"Double gold, for your trouble..." the offer rises loud enough to hear. You can see the reticence in the grey-haired man.

"...not the horse that's the problem..."

Their voices lower again. When at last, they part, it is with the clink of coin between them. The king stalks back to the horse and works at unleashing the saddle bangs from its rump. He sighs.

"Stay close as ever," he warns.

You obey and trail him down with the horse. He passes over the steed to a boatman and he beckons you with him. There are more gazes and you wonder if they know who he is. Yet, there eyes barely seem to snag him.

"Men of the sea are wary of women," he affirms as he herds you up the ramp.

You shrink down. Oh. You come upon the barge as the king lingers like a shadow.

You're shown to a cabin. The tilt of the boat makes you dizzy. You teeter and back into the king. He catches you with his hands on your hips.

"You'll get your sea legs yet," he bids. "Best to sit."

The room is small. There is something hanging from the ceiling. You feel along the wall and slide down to sit on your feet. You feel better, less treacherous. He goes to the fabric strung from above.

He spreads the cloth and turns. He maneuvers himself into it, landing in the odd sheath that cradles him. It rocks with the boats idling sway. You shift and sit on your bottom, hugging your knees.

"A hammock. A sailor's bed," he explains.

You dip your chin down. You've only ever slept on straw and floor. You'll do just fine down here.

"I will find us some food when we set off. Let the boatsmen lift anchor first," he says. "I wouldn't mind a moment to close my eyes."

"Yes, your highness."

He hums. "There is enough room for you as well..."

"Your highness..."

"Pip," he opens an eye and looks at you.

"Poppet," you correct yourself. He grins.

"Very well. Keep mind to the bucket in the corner, lest your stomach join the river in churning," he wiggles and closes his eyes again. He yawns and drapes his arm over his face. Your eyes dart to the pail. It might not be unwise advice.

👑

You shiver as you hug the bucket. Your back racks and you ready for another violent heave. Your stomach twists but does not upend. Cold sweat drips down your forehead. You temples throb as the waves lash at the side of the boat in a startling cacophony.

"Dear pip," the king kneels beside you and mops your brow with a wet cloth. "It will pass."

Your teeth chatter and you gag. There's nothing left in you to expel. You groan and shield your face with your hand. You are humiliated.

"Is this... death?" You babble.

He laughs softly, "no, sweet pip. You are unused to the sea, that is all."

You moan again. He pulls your hand away from your face and presses his knuckles to your cheek. You lean into their comforting warmth.

"Rest will do you well," he draws you over to him as he stretches his arm over your shoulder. You shiver and slacken against him weakly. He rubs your arm as he holds you. You're too sick to care for propriety.

"My apologies, my king. I've never... never been about."

"Oh, do not apologise, sweet pip," he cooes and pets your hair. "When I was a boy. Oh, you could ask the duke yourself. We went upon a large galley. I was rather eager to be upon it but once we could not see the shore, I was but a puddle of sick."

You groan and cling to his cloak as your insides constrict. The bile sears your throat but gets no further. He hums and reaches below your cloak to rub your stomach.

"Be calm," he caresses you through your dress. "You will survive this, pip. You are ever strong."

His hand continues to move as you shake. The water hits the boat and the voices of men carry on the wind whistling above. He leans back with you against him and extends his legs out. He keeps you again him and his hand crawls along your hip. You quiver and it falls onto your thigh. He leans his head against yours as you start to hiccup.

"This night will pass," he assures, fingers tracing the wrinkles in your dress. "And we will be here still."

[gloomwitchwrites]

Ink & Needle // Chapter Twenty-Five

Tattoo Artist Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (MDNI): tattoo shop au, canon-typical violence, swearing, angst

Word Count: 3.5k

Price reveals three possible locations. Task Force 141 infiltrates.

Chapter Twenty-Four // Chapter Twenty-Six

ao3 // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

Knuckles pop. Joints crack.

Simon is primed—nerves and muscles alive and firing.

Ready for action.

Ready for blood.

His old life is returning. Not as fragments but through muscle memory. The training never left. It still dwells within him, twisting around tendons and bone like vines strangling a trellis, awakening to revive the man that once was.

"Tell me what you see, Simon."

Captain Price's voice comes from behind, drifting around Simon like lingering cigarette smoke and dirty snow. Silently, Simon observes the spread of information before him.

"These are the possible targets?" asks Simon, his gaze moving from picture to picture.

A small burst of air before the balaclava becomes steam. The abandoned barn they’ve set up shop in is fucking cold even with the generator-backed heaters turned on. But the cold hardly bothers Simon. His bad knee might not like it but the ache is easy to ignore.

On the wall is a massive map of the world. There are pictures of people and places pinned in various locations. Some of the people are crossed out—marked dead. Others are untouched or painted over with a question mark.

"Yes," affirms Price. "Anything familiar?"

Simon shifts his attention away from the wall and to the table in front of him. There are more pictures here—more documents.

A muscle in his neck spasms. "No," growls Simon. "Walsh likely abandoned his old haunts."

Price shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Two pictures of Walsh stare back at Simon. One is an old photograph from before. Walsh's skin is perfect here—free from burn scars or blemishes. The second photograph is newer but slightly blurry. Walsh wears a black jacket, hood up, face in profile. Even with the burn scars, his face is unmistakable.

"Walsh is prone to paranoia," says Simon, bringing the newest photograph closer. "He had places even I didn't know about."

"That's my point," replies Price. "Walsh trusted you. And yet he still didn't tell you everything."

We are gardens now.

The two of us.

It's easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.

Simon's fingers twitch with the urge to crush the photograph. Shoving the compulsion down, Simon returns the picture of Walsh to the table. Focusing on the massive board before him, Simon observes each marked location, his mind flipping through the rolodex of information he obtained during his infiltration.

"What makes you think it's one of these three?" asks Simon.

He lightly taps the picture in front of him. It's an aerial photograph of a series of warehouses near the Port of Felixstowe. There are two other ports marked including those of London and Liverpool.

Unease slides like sludge in Simon’s stomach. “Not only are these major ports, two of the three are fucking tourist attractions.” Simon turns on Price, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can tour a naval vessel and then board a cruise ship in a single day at Liverpool. London is the fucking same. Walsh isn’t making moves there.” He points at the picture of Felixstowe. “This is the only plausible of the three. Privately owned. Recent docker worker strikes.” Simon drops his arm. “But I don’t fucking believe that for a bloody second.”

There are other ports marked across Europe and the United States. Walsh likes to move around, never staying in one place too long. Sometimes he’s moving drugs. Sometimes he’s moving weapons. Using the same place of entry is risky with dangerous cargo.

"We have surveillance," replies Captain Price.

Gaz hands Soap a laptop. Johnny takes a seat and taps away at the keyboard, bringing up several video feeds.

"This one is for Felixstowe." Johnny allows the feeds to run for a bit before clicking over to a new set. "Liverpool." He switches again. "And London."

Simon shakes his head, noticing nothing in the grainy footage. "It's too close to home. Too busy. Too regulated."

Price's face remains impassive. “Look closer." He glances at Soap. "Roll them again."

Simon steps up directly next to Johnny's shoulder. Placing one hand on the table, Simon leans in. Johnny pulls up the surveillance feed near Felixstowe first. As it plays, a tiny twist of anxiety curls in his stomach. Are his eyes going to shit?

"You see it now?" asks Price.

"No," says Simon sharply.

Johnny loops the feed and points. "Here, Lt."

Squinting helps but hardly makes things any clearer. "Zoom in."

Johnny pauses the feed and enlarges it enough to give a more focused picture but not enough to render the pixels worthless. From the back of an SUV emerges a man that looks like Walsh. With him is—a woman?

Like a punch to the solar plexus, the wind is knocked out of Simon.

Is that you?

"You see it, Lt?"

"I see it," growls Simon. "Show me the next one."

Johnny repeats each surveillance feed, pausing and zooming in. There is a woman emerging from an SUV in each one, that is unmistakable, but is it you? That part is unclear. The videos aren't distinct enough to show details.

"We think this is her," says Price.

"In three different places?" asks Simon, skeptical.

Hope is a fragile thing. He wants to cling to it, to imagine that this is you he's seeing in all three feeds, but he cannot allow himself to latch onto an idea that may not hold any reality.

The middle of Price's brow creases. "You need to look again, Simon."

Simon slowly straightens himself. All of this feels like a game—Walsh's game.

"The timestamps don't make sense," growls Simon. "They're not even hours apart!"

"Exactly," says Price, stepping closer. "All of them are the same. Except one." Price lightly squeezes Johnny's shoulder. He brings up the first video feed again, the one from Felixstowe. "This one is different," murmurs Price, his gaze focused on the computer screen.

The feed plays and Johnny pauses the image. A small light flicks on in the dark recesses of Simon's mind.

"You see it now, Simon?"

"I see it, Captain."

Of the three, the woman is always alone in the Liverpool and London feeds. In Felixstowe, she isn't. In Felixstowe, there's a man grabbing her upper arm. A man that looks very much like Simon's enemy.

"We don't have confirmation," continues Price, already seeming to know exactly what Simon is thinking.

It doesn't fucking matter if they have confirmation or not. This is a lead. This is something.

"We've already sent recon teams," adds Kyle, breaking his silence.

The pity isn't there anymore. There is only grim determination. They've seen Simon at his lowest, and yet that doesn't matter. They're doing this to take Walsh down but they're also doing it for him.

Gaz glances at the map but he addresses Simon. "Walsh wants us to focus on Felixstowe." He turns attention to Simon. "Which is why we sent recon."

"And recon said different," replies Simon.

Kyle winks. "Exactly."

"Felixstowe is staged." Price moves toward the map. "But Liverpool?" Price turns back to Simon, with a smirk. "Want to know who funded that little transfer for Walsh?"

Walsh has always moved behind the scenes. He always lurks in the dark. Pockets are lined and Walsh obtains what he wants. At its core, big business is greedy. They’ll happily look the other way if they can get what they want and get away with it.

Some of the earlier unease melts, adrenaline replacing the anxiety.

Simon’s question is immediate “Did you bag the fucker?”

“I have a tail on them as we speak.”

“Good,” growls Simon. “Walsh with them?”

“No.”

Even better. It means Simon can deal out his own justice.

Simon exhales, trying to find a sense of calm amongst all this new information. "All I want is Walsh.”

I just want her back.

Simon wants that fucking wanker alive. He wants Walsh to squirm. To suffer. To feed the man his own teeth before making him choke on them.

But even that won’t satiate what Simon truly desires.

You. Only you.

In his arms again. Warm and safe and all his. To know that you will never come to harm again.

Price’s smirk becomes a genuine smile. They’ve been after this man for fucking years, and now Walsh is truly in their grasp.

Nodding toward the map, Price gestures toward it. "Our best guess is this warehouse near the Port of Liverpool."

"Why?" asks Simon. “It’s a haven for tourist.”

“It caters to tourist and occasionally houses the Royal Navy just as much as it brings in and sends out goods.” Price exhales. “It’s busy, yes. But it’s unsuspecting.”

"It's also the only place we've seen Walsh arrive to and leave from," adds Kyle.

Simon shrugs. “Could be a distraction. Make it obvious so we aren’t looking at other possible targets.”

“Could be,” replies Price casually.

“We’ve got him, Lt. And not on surveillance footage.”

"The recon team did," continues Gaz. "Real subtle, too. Like he didn't want to be seen."

Diversion has always been Walsh's specialty. His most devoted followers will do whatever he asks from shooting up a corner store to acting as a body double. The man is a manipulator. A friendly face that says exactly what you want to hear to reinforce your own confirmation bias.

He does it all in the name of power and personal superiority.

Simon turns toward Price. "Are we going after that warehouse?"

Price nods. "Tomorrow."

Darkness is a friend.

A companion. A trained beast. A silent killer.

Simon looks into his scope, checking and rechecking the perimeter of the building. Soap has already disabled the surveillance camera on the western side of the building. To the person watching, they're seeing a continuous loop of nothing.

The building itself isn’t one of those boxy metal buildings you find all over the States. This warehouse is old, made from brick and stone, built when ships were still only made of wood. Marked as a historical location, and yet currently closed to the public.

How bloody fucking convenient.

While the night is cold, the port isn’t empty. There are no cargo ships unloading but there’s a docked Destroyer all lit up across the River Mersey. Tourists and locals move along pedestrian areas, and the nearby arena is awash with light as some musical artist performs.

Life moves. Uninterrupted.

As it should be.

And not one of those souls realize what lurks in the dark.

“Soap. We ready to breach?” comes Price’s voice over comms.

Johnny’s answer is laced with slight static. “You have five minutes until the loop ends.”

Price turns back to look at Simon and Kyle, silently pointing in the direction of the door they’re entering the building through. Johnny is on the roof with two members of the recon team sent earlier.

With rifles raised, the trio move silently across the concrete. Price forms the front while Gaz and Simon take the sides and back. They stay on a swivel, watching Price’s rear as he approached the door.

“Three minutes, Captain,” comes Johnny’s voice over comms.

Behind Simon, there’s a clink of metal meeting metal. Something rattles. Then a soft creak as the service door opens.

“We’re in,” replies Price.

Price eases the door open. He keeps his gaze forward, hand coming up to signal that everything is clear. Simon enters behind Price with Kyle on his heel.

“There are three down the hall,” crackles Johnny’s voice over comms.

Price, Gaz, and Simon move silently down the tight hallway. One side is solid brick, the other treated wood. They pass breakers and switches but no doors. There are a few wall hangings but they’re for the workers who would handle the upkeep.

At a tight turn, Price presses himself against the wall. Simon and Kyle crouch as Price eases a small handheld mirror around the corner. There are only a few feet of hallway remaining before it meets a door that says “EXIT.”

“Where are they, Soap?”

A pause. “Just outside the door. Left.”

Price turns the corner and stops at the door. They form a line, switching off night vision. The door opens, and Price is moving. Simon is right behind him, blood roaring in his ears as he follows his captain.

Simon’s finger hugs the trigger.

A muted pop leaves the chamber.

Dark red bursts in the dim light, painting the wall and nearby mounted lamp. The three men never had a chance. They don’t even make a sound as the lead penetrates their heads and explodes in their skulls.

Price’s voice greets Simon in his earpiece. “Clear.”

“Two near the entrance. Follow the lights.”

The building is utterly silent. It’s all exposed brick and pipes. Distantly, Simon hears water dripping, but it is otherwise quiet like a slumbering monster.

Walsh is here. He fucking has to be. Simon senses it in his gut.

Price takes the two out near the entrance, Simon following behind with an extra bullet for each just to make sure.

“We’re coming up on your right, Captain.”

Johnny appears with one member of the recon team. The other remains on the roof, keeping an eye for any incoming vehicles.

“The bunker is through here,” says Johnny, aiming his weapon at the floor.

“The door is in the bloody floor?” asks Kyle.

Johnny crouches, his gloved hand gently probing the wood. They all watch until his hand pauses, his fingers lightly pressing downward.

There’s a hiss, and then Johnny is lifting, revealing a ladder and a dimly lit hall that Simon cannot see the end of.

Price squeezes the shoulder of the soldier from recon. “Keep a lookout here. Radio if you hear or see anything.”

“Yes, sir.”

Price releases his shoulder and descends first. Johnny heads down next followed by Simon and then Kyle.

They’re going in blind. They do not have the plans or layout of this part of the building. The strangest thing is that it looks brand fucking new. It doesn’t make any sense.

Walsh doesn’t build. He utilizes what’s available and goes from there.

There’s only just enough light to see by and there are no doors except the one at the end of the short hall. They might find a maze. They might find a singular room. There could be walking into a trap or nothing at all.

Simon isn’t sure what worries him more.

But you have to be here. Somewhere.

Price counts down starting with three fingers. At one, he raises his rifle and kicks in the door, charging forward. Heartrate spiking, Simon heads in after him, finger tight on the trigger, ready to burst skulls and shatter bone.

The adrenaline peaks, swarming Simon’s senses.

And then it comes crashing down.

As if falling from a great height, Simon is presented with an entirely different outcome.

The firing end of the rifle drifts downward, his gaze focusing on the singular object in the entire room. It’s a box. A metal tackle box like you’d take on a fishing trip. Above it is a bulb hanging from the ceiling. The light it emits is warm and low like it’s been on for years and is just about ready to give out.

Price, Johnny, and Kyle all walk the perimeter of the room.

“It’s solid fucking concrete!” shouts Johnny, his steps increasing as he drags one gloved hand along the wall.

Price slowly spins. “What the fuck is this place?”

“It’s not a storage warehouse,” says Kyle. “There’s nothing here.”

“A hideout, then?” suggests Johnny. “A bunker?”

“Then where’s the bloody bed?” replies Kyle, voice rising slightly. “There isn’t even a table!”

Simon’s focus is narrowing to a pinpoint.

The tackle box is a deep forest green, the handle black, the latch gold.

He takes a step toward it.

“Don’t touch that, Simon.”

Simon ignores Price’s command. He moves closer.

“Simon!”

“Lt! Don’t touch it!”

It’s a game. This is all Walsh’s game.

Simon comes down to one knee beside the tackle box. It’s old—a little banged up. Somehow, he recognizes it.

His gloved thumb brushes over the metal latch.

“Simon!”

It’s Johnny, but Simon is already moving—already releasing the latch and lifting the lid.

Memory resurfaces, and cold dread twists Simon’s stomach. Scratched into the interior of the lid is a name.

It’s Simon’s father’s name.

The tackle box is his father’s, a relic from a time when there was no abuse and no alcohol. Simon remembers going on fishing trips as a young boy carrying this exact box even though he was far too small to hold it properly. He’d always walk leaning to one side due to the weight.

Then it collected dust in a closet as his father became a monster.

But the box isn’t empty.

There are no fishing hooks or plastic dividers. All of that is gone.

In its place is your hair.

Not much, just a cleanly cut portion no larger than Simon’s pinky. It’s neatly tied with red string. Beneath it is a filmy scrap of paper.

The words face him. Clear and obvious.

She’s not here. Try again, friend.

“Simon.”

A crater in the Earth opens up, swallowing Simon whole. He is descending, falling through an endless hell. Spiraling down, down.

“Simon.”

Johnny’s voice is a distant thing. It’s trying to penetrate, to worm inside and pull Simon out but his mind is flipping.

She’s not here.

Your lock of hair is delicately tied, a regretful solace that rings out into Simon’s subconscious.

Try again, friend.

“Simon!”

Following his name is a rattling of gunfire. It’s not distant. Just over his shoulder. In Simon’s earpiece, someone is rattling off a series of numbers and positions, but Simon isn’t paying attention.

You are not here.

You are—elsewhere.

Lost.

In a place where Simon cannot tread.

An instant passes. Then another. The darkness around him transforms, flipping end over end until everything that Simon knows about himself slips away.

You were supposed to be here. He’s supposed to find you. To bring you back.

But this is a task that Simon clearly cannot handle.

Fingers claw up his esophagus, creep over his tongue, and press against his teeth. It emerges, breaking joints, allowing the darkness Simon feels to burst forth and wrap around him, enshrining him in a bloodlust he hasn’t felt in years.

The rifle tip rises. Simon is running on autopilot, allowing Ghost to take over, to consume every ounce of sanity.

Price, Soap, and Gaz are holding down the door, firing at an enemy that Simon cannot yet see.

His feet are not his own. His hands belong to someone else.

Charging forward, the firing end of the rifle explodes. The enemy on the other side are surprised by his sudden appearance. They faulter for a second, their eyes widening slightly in fear. But it’s enough.

It’s enough.

They are cut down, reaching out, hands pressing against the holes in their bodies as blood pools on the floor.

Simon unloads until he’s empty. Reloads. Empties again.

“Simon!”

The rest of his team follow, but Simon is hungry. A blood beast.

When the lead isn’t enough, he uses his hands.

There are bodies all around him, a trail for Price, Gaz, and Soap to follow.

On he moves, devouring. Slicing and gutting until the blood of his enemies begins to soak into his clothes.

He doesn’t remember ascending. Doesn’t remember resurfacing only to dive right back into the void. With ears ringing and a hint of metal on his tongue, Simon destroys everything in his path.

He is aware of Price, Johnny, and Kyle. They move around him, guns high, picking off everyone they can. Simon moves from enemy to enemy, uncaring of how he kills them. He breaks bones. Breaks teeth. Breaks soul. He stabs and slices, relishing in every anguished sound they make.

It is only when so many have fallen that Simon digs in, wanting to draw out a final blow as if the man before him is Walsh and not a nameless crony. The man sobs, his eyes replaced with Simon’s burrowing thumbs.

“Where is she!” screams Simon. He doesn’t even recognize his own voice. “Where the fuck is she!”

The sob becomes a garbled cry. Bloody. Crimson pools and dribbles from the man’s open mouth.

“Tell me where she is!”

Unresponsive. Dead.

Simon slams the man’s head against the floor.

But it isn’t enough. It will never be enough.

A strangled scream is ripped from Simon as he repeatedly bashes the man’s head into the floor.

Hands are on him, grabbing at his arms, tearing him away. Simon swings, clipping Johnny in the chin.

“Enough!” Price wrestles Simon to his feet, pushing him hard against the wall. “They’re dead, Simon.”

His head pounds, the balaclava moving rapidly into and out of his mouth as he gasps for air.

You’re not here.

You’re not here.

It’s all slipping away. Piercing and sharp and yet so dull that Simon begins to feel numb.

“Simon,” murmurs Price, the middle of his brow creasing.

Try again, friend.

[french-unknown]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, robin 𝐂/𝐖: toxic relationships (kidnapping, mentions of death, suicide blackmail) and there is no love in them 𝐖/𝐂: 3.5k +

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 2 |

You had just arrived on an island that you recognized immediately since one of your closest family friends lived there. Happy, you wanted to go see her immediately but you were stopped by Luffy who asked to accompany you. You laughed and, despite his pouting that he tried to convince you with, you refused. However, you placed a kiss on his lips before leaving.

Your parents' friend recognized you at first glance and you fell into each other's arms within seconds. You were happy to see her again after all this time, so you started talking for a few moments until she finally sighed.

"I’m sorry about your mom." she declared sadly. Not understanding what she meant, you raised your eyebrows. She continued. "For her illness? I know it must be hard for you. I'm surprised that you're not with them; have you already said goodbye to her?" A drop of sweat ran down the back of your neck and, confused, you explained to her that you didn't know what she was talking about. "Your mother is terminally ill." she elaborated. "They told me they sent you several letters about it, so I thought you knew." You shook your head in shock.

At the same moment, a commotion was heard on the other side of the store window. You saw a group of Marines running past while shouting that they had spotted the Straw Hat Captain on this street. Panicked, you picked up your things and greeted your parents' friend before running away since, if Luffy had been targeted, you weren't going to stay on the island.

When you arrived at the boat, without being noticed by anyone, you went directly to see the captain to explain your situation and that you would like to leave the ship for a few months to go and see your family. But, to your great astonishment, Luffy refused. You insisted and yet he remained intransigent: You will not leave the ship. You then insisted even more so that he understood your need to be with your loved ones but, as you turned your back and announced that you would leave anyway, the world went black.

You woke up in a cramped room while the rocking under your feet as well as the smell of wood and salt water confirmed to you that you were still on the Sunny. Suddenly, a ray of light passed into the room and you saw your captain smiling through a trapdoor in the only door. Behind him, you noticed the Soldier Docker System  with the doors to Franky and Usopp's workshops in the distance.

"Let me out, Luffy!" You ordered, confused but mostly annoyed. "Nah!" he responds with his characteristic smile. "You are not allowed to leave. Your captain forbids you!" You frowned in concern before speaking. "You can't do that, Luffy. I can leave whenever I want and you have no right to stop me." He laughed as if you had just told a joke. "Well I'm doing it anyway! You'll stay there until you promise me that you'll always stay by my side. And don't bother shouting for the others to come get you, I told them that you stayed on the ground with your friend. See you!"

And he closed the hatch, leaving you alone and in the dark again in the Sunny's hold. You didn't quite understand what had just happened to you but you felt in your gut that you weren't going to like it.

Since the Straw Hat Grand Fleet was formed, you have become very close to the other crews and, in particular, to a group from the Beautiful Pirates that you found very interesting. They had refined manners, their styles were fun with their wigs and mustaches and, above all, they had a lot of conversation. So you gradually started to spend more time with them to find out where they came from and what they had been through. As a result, it took up your time with your other friends from the Straw Hat Pirates even though the majority of them didn't pay much attention to it.

After a while, when the fleet began to run out of supplies, it was decided among the captains that you would stop at the next island to get them. About thirty members were designated among all the crews to go and recover the goods. Among them were, among other things, all your friends from the Beautiful Pirates as well as Zoro. You were not worried at all, so you wished them good luck before returning peacefully to your activities.

Unfortunately, not all of them returned.

Zoro returned to the boat first, some blood on him, announcing that they had been attacked in the mist by a brigand who had taken advantage of the lack of visibility. Seeing nothing, he therefore wanted to inform other pirate but he got lost. A wave of worry ran through the fleet as a feeling of revenge grew within the ranks. Finally, slowly, a few other members of the other crews came back and everyone explained the same version: they had been attacked by a brigand. Everyone looked terrified except Zoro. Only your friends did not return and you lost all hope when you saw Farul returning to the boat. The horse, panicked, began to neigh and rear as soon as he noticed the swordsman in your ranks. Crazy, it took a lot of effort for Cavendish to master it.

When the fog lifted, no bodies were found on the island and rumors began to grow among the pirates that they had been killed by a demon.

That evening, after your feelings had been numbed all day, you felt your walls crack before completely collapsing. You began to mourn the loss of your friends and their mysterious disappearance. Unable to believe this demon story, you began to imagine what had happened to their bodies or what they had been thinking during their last moments.

The crow's nest hatch opened and you saw a green head slipping through it. Zoro approached you as soon as he saw you and, when he was close enough, out of a cruel need for comfort, you took him in your arms. He nevertheless closed his arms around you despite the surprise and then rested his chin on top of your head. You were immediately reassured by his presence and surprised that he accepted your hug so well. However, you didn't complain and stayed in his arms, talking about your loss, while he continued to hold you against him and stroke your back.

From there, a routine settled down.

He came to join you every evening to take you in his arms before letting you evacuate your sadness. He was so supportive that after a few months, when he confessed, you thought it was the kind of support you needed in your life so you accepted.

You were upset. For several weeks, without knowing why, certain very specific memories of your adolescence had come back to your mind, like an afternoon of fishing with your father and his crew mates. Or a boarding with rival ships. You were experiencing these flashes in an abnormally precise way with the details, the smells, the exact conversations and the emotions associated with them.

All the members of the Straw Hats knew what was happening to you and supported you in their own way. Nami, above all, was a huge pillar for you. You had already gotten along very well with her when she joined the crew after you and Zoro, but now she was even more attentive. She listened to you talk about how much it unsettled you to have these outbursts of impromptu memories that you hadn't thought about in a long time. She helped you a lot to unload this emotional burden that was overwhelming you.

Once again, you were alone in the shade of the navigator's mandarin trees. You closed your eyes, exhausted, and the sound of the sea began to lull you. The waves passed and rolled under the hull of the ship or crashed against the wooden planks. Then others took over and it started again and again.

Suddenly, a cage of fear closed around your heart before crushing it and you were plunged into another memory. You were on your father's boat, lying in bed, but something was wrong. It took you a few seconds to untangle your thoughts and realize that you were tied hand and foot. Your wrists and ankles were burning from the uncomfortable friction of the bonds against your skin. A cloth gag also covered your mouth to stop you from screaming. Suddenly, a noise in front of you made you raise your head and you came face to face with a person you had never seen before. Unlike everything around you, this person's head was fuzzy. The only thing you noticed was that it was a girl around your age with orange hair. She abruptly sat down on your lap, making a faint citrus scent waft through your nostrils, before you felt something cold against your cheek. A ray of moonlight passed through your shutters and reflected against the blade placed under your eye.

"I finally catch you." the presence whispered with its face inches from yours. "You were so attractive on the last island that I couldn't help but get on your ship. You are so... these last few days I saw you laughing on the deck and talking to those dirty pirates, but you... you..." And you saw her face move closer to yours until you felt pressure against your lips through the gag.

At the same time, screams were heard from the other side of the door and footsteps echoed on the deck. The girl on your lap groaned before slowly getting up without taking her eyes off you. You saw her grab a large bag from near the door before you closed your eyes. The next day, when you opened them again, you rose unhindered—and without memories—from your bed to discover that your loot had been stolen during the night.

You came out of the memory with a start, your heart beating a thousand miles an hour. You were sweating as your breathing ran out quickly. Above you, the branches of the mandarin trees quivered.

"Slept well?" Nami asked happily.

The battle raged and you attacked as best you could despite the circumstances. Indeed, shortly after arriving on the island, you were found by the Marine who had launched the assault but you were not at your best because of relationship problems which prevented you from concentrating completely.

For several months now, you found that Usopp was becoming more and more restrictive: he no longer wanted you to go on dry land when you docked somewhere, he wanted you to spend less time training to spend more time with him, he preferred that you talk less to the other male members of the crew and the list went on a lot longer. And the worst thing is that he always had justifications! Either he reminded you that it was him who created your weapon and that he regretted it because it had replaced him or he confided in you in private how the other male members of the crew made him doubt his abilities and that the fact that you preferred to talk to them rather than to him meant that you made him insecure.

As the battle finally ended in your victory, a cry from Zoro alerted you. Running up to the swordsman, you saw Usopp's body at his feet. His rolled-back eyes shocked you, as did the pool of blood that was gradually forming around his body. A memory from the day before came back to you: "I want to take a break." You told him, and he replied, "I would rather die than live without you." You froze, your eyes locked on his broken body as Chopper came running in to examine him. Above him, Zoro was explaining that he had seen the sniper suddenly completely stop fighting in the middle of the fight. He had managed to reach him to protect him but Usopp had taken serious blows in the meantime.

The whole crew was tense. You heard the slight sniffles from Franky as Nami collapsed next to her friend, her shoulders shaking in fear. A worried frown also narrowed Zoro and Robin's gaze. Sanji, for his part, was nervously smoking his cigarette while Luffy, the most terrifying of all, was dead silent. After a while, Chopper ended up reassuring you that he was still alive but that he had to be transported back to Sunny immediately.

As soon as he was placed in the infirmary bed, the morbid wait began. For days, you took turns next to him so that you would be immediately informed if he woke up and, for days, you saw the faces of the crew deteriorate more and more. For your part, more than worry, it was guilt that burned your stomach like acid. Was it your fault he stopped fighting? Was he going to die because of you? How would the crew react if he died?

Finally, Usopp woke up much to everyone's relief. He reassured them by blaming it on fatigue and they ended up leaving both of you alone in the infirmary. Their relief made you feel even worse since you weren't relieved that he was alive; you were relieved that he didn’t die because of you. The sniper then asked you to join him in bed and wrapped his arms around you. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I was so scared when you told me you wanted to leave me." he started to whisper. "I wouldn't survive if you left me."

And, too terrified of what might happen if you broke up, you stayed.

While you were going to the bathhouse as Sanji had asked you, for a surprise, you met Nami. The navigator laughed slightly and admitted that she already knew what was waiting for you because Sanji had talked to her about it all day and asked for her help to prepare it.

"You're lucky to have him." the redhead kindly said. "It’s obvious that he loves you."

You blushed at the remark and you continued on your way. As soon as you knocked on the door, Sanji immediately opened it with a big smile before kissing you excitedly and pulling you into the room.

The bathroom had been completely redecorated. The main light was off and had been replaced by a myriad of candles that smeared the room and illuminated it with a soft, flickering and welcoming hue whose intimate atmosphere was accompanied by the rose petals deposited everywhere. On the furniture, the floor, where it formed a graceful path towards the bathtub, and finally in the latter where the flowers overhung the hot water covered with a white foam that looked like pieces of cloud in the half-light. A sweet smell of cotton and flowers evaporated from the hot water and perfumed the room. On the side of the bathtub, he had specially folded the towels so that they fit into a pyramid among the petals. Dazzled by the atmosphere and the efforts he had put into it, you didn't know what to say. Suddenly, you felt him press against your back before wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a kiss on your neck. His skillful hands, which he took so much care of, then began to undress you while he spoke in your ear.

However, as you took over and the excitement also rose on your side, you finally found yourself in your underwear in front of him and his charming face froze. You felt in your stomach that something had changed in the mood.

"You're not wearing the lingerie I gave you?" he asked, and though his voice was kind, you sensed something was wrong.

You looked down and looked at your lingerie set, which was very pretty but was indeed not one of those that Sanji had offered you.

"This one looked great on the mannequin." he continued in the same oddly amiable tone. "But I told you that I was preparing a surprise for you. You couldn't at least wear the ones I brought you?"

A feeling of shame intensified in your mind in the form of a huge lump that settled in your throat. Under his judgmental gaze, you felt the urge to cover yourself, ashamed of your body and the clothes you had chosen to cover it.

"I spent the afternoon preparing a surprise for you and you can't even do that for me. I've been collecting these damn candles and flowers for weeks on different layovers so you don't realize it. And you come like that?"

"I can go change if you want?" you asked, ashamed.

He then took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with annoyance, then exhaled dryly the smoke which polluted the sweet smell in the room. He put the lighter back in his pocket and turned on his heel.

"It’s no use, you’ve already ruined everything." he huffed, irritated. "All those efforts were stupidly ruined, you're lucky I love you. I'm the only one dumb enough to do that."

And he left, leaving you alone in your underwear in the bathroom, which now smelled of cigarettes, next to this bathtub with the foam half gone, and surrounded by those thousand petals and candles that had lost their sparkle.

You were running but you didn't know where you were in the boat, you were totally confused and lost.

A long time ago, you didn't know exactly how much, you wanted to leave the ship to have a drink with a local with whom you had gotten along well. You had prepared yourself, ready to leave, but before you walked through the door, you had passed out. When you woke up, you were tied up somewhere in the dark. After a while Robin ended up finding you but, when you started begging her to free you, she told you that it was she who had locked you up.

From that moment on, the shock had finally dissipated and given way to fear. You had known her for years of sailing together and if there was one thing you knew about Robin, it was that she was the type of person to follow through on the things she cared about. She came almost every day into the room to talk to you or simply to look at you. Only that. But today, you don't know how, your ties have loosened enough for you to escape. You then waited for her to make her daily visit while praying that she would not notice the state of your restraints.

You then counted to one hundred as soon as she left before escaping.

So you found yourself running through the corridors that you guessed were the Thousand Sunny but, in your blind panic, you were unable to find your way. After a while, at the corner of a corridor, you saw a lighter spot on the wall a few meters away. You recognized the shape of an ear sticking out of the wall as you approached. You immediately stopped as quietly as possible near the wall and didn't move. You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your wheezing. The ear moved a little but remained still. After a minute without any new movement, you felt your heart begin to slow down with relief. Suddenly, a small "boing" sounded in one of your ears and something soft touched your cheek. You turned your head to the wall beside you, where the noise was coming from, and fell face-to-face with a dull blue eye watching you. Horrified, you could only watch as the azure iris bore into your eyes.

You immediately started running again but it was too late.

You could only make a few steps before a hold on your ankle knocked you down. In the process, you felt a hundred arms and hands come to cover you and pin you to the ground. You felt them rest and press on your calves, your thighs, your back and even your neck and your head. Some encircled their palms around your ankles and wrists while others held you down with pressure. As you wanted to scream - lost for lost - you felt a hand grow on your shoulder and come crashing down on your mouth to drown out any noise you might make. Paralyzed, you could only let it happen when an arm blossomed between your shoulder blades so that a hand slipped into your hair to hold your head back. Now looking up, you saw Robin appear at the end of the corridor before quietly approaching you on her long legs. She walked over to you before kneeling down next to your head, keeping eye contact.

"Did you really think I wasn’t watching you?" she asked in her lifeless tone.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @idsmash717 @lys-ada @xomingyu @parkyrr @yasmiinberkaa @dozcan123 @anotherproblemsos

[scotianostra]

Friday 2nd December 1960 saw tragedy strike when a firefighter from Glasgow Fire Service lost his life at a fire on board the German cargo ship MV Pagensand at Prince’s Dock.

The story started a few days earlier when the vessels crew had discovered the fire on the Tuesday that week, when they were 2 days out of Gothenburg, Sweden. A decision was made to seal the holds and make for port. Smoke still continued to come from the hold. What made matters worse the ship was carrying matches and paper!

The Captain had radioed a warning ahead and the vessel was advised to head for The Forth and dock at either Leith or Grangemouth but on getting closer to Scotland decided it was safe enough to make it to Glasgow instead.

When the ship docked at Princes Dock, Govan late on Thursday the officer in charge and the Captain agreed that the sealed hatches would remain in place until daylight.

On the Friday during daylight the deck cargo was cleared and the firefighters prepared for entry into the hold. When the hatch was opened several firefighters and some Dockers went below. Within minutes there were shouts for help and 11 firefighters and a Docker had collapsed and also required rescue.

Station Officer Douglas Mearns could not be revived after the incident, he was 45 years old, married and had three children, there is a plaque at the Millennium Bridge remembering him, members of Govan Fire Station pay tribute to him their annually on this date, SO Mearns is also on the Monument to the firefighters at Necropolis.

[the-silvered-pirate]

🌹 ( @waterlogged-detective ) Detective Doe very taken but he likes making friends! And getting ideas for poems by listening to people's romantic stories. I have a short explanation/character sheet/personality thing in my pinned comment but I can also send more if you'd like!

There was a Song. Interesting as songs are words aren't they? Not Words, tho. But words nonetheless.

Jonathin was roaming the streets of Spite, rumor has it something strange started to happen some time ago and he decided to look into the matter. Not that anyone asked them directly or hired him but there was something about this case that was amusing: lyrics of an Unkown Song started to appear on Spite's houses walls, seemingly without a regular or predictable pattern.

Doe was fascinated by this. The words appeared on walls and various other surfaces written in a bright, slightly luminous Apocyan.

Sometimes it smelled like ozone, like as if a thunder struck them into being but the Storm and his thunder were quite silent lately. So what could have caused this?

The false-night creeped in, so he heads to the Medusa's Head to check on the local stories: who's a better source of stories than criminals, dockers and general landlubbers?

The air in there is dense and difficult to breath, but the mood is absolutely sparkling; dances, fights, card games and a pirate violinist sitting on a barrel playing a delightful tune. Jonathin takes a sit in a decently lit table, close to the bar.

The singing and the violin started to sound familiar around the time the drink he ordered lost all it's bubbles and has grown stale.

Is it?

Is it the song appearing written on the walls?

It is!

Doe followed the lyrics all through Spite to Wolfstack Dock and at Zee after that, too. It lead him to the Mourns, something deep stirring within him. Not Words, mind you but he was sort of mumbling and singing to himself the tune of the mysterious song.

Up and up from the shores goes Jonathin, flocks of Blue Prophets circling high above, nearer to the Roof than to the Zee, the feeling of an invisible wind pulling and pushing him higher and higher.

At the very summit of the Mourn, a makeshift route made of ropes leads to another peak, secluded from the main one, and there, a circle of many, many figures.

Pirates! So many!

And in the middle a bonefire and a very strange pair of performers: an Unfinished Woman, her skin completely covered in ink and writing, and a Captain, blond-red hairs and Cosmogone spectacles. The woman is enacting a tale as she sings it, and the Captain is playing the violin.

A pitch black surface behind them, like an obscured mirror, lights up from now and then, especially when the two sing the same lyrics.

Remembrances, ghosts in Apocyan, dance in the air as the two sing and dance and play.

WORDS!

Jonathin takes a seat amongst the zailors, the light of the fires lit and alive in the false-night.

Tales! So many tales! Of romance, lost love, lost treasures!

A Drownie falling in love with a Pirate!? Oh how hauntingly sweet it is, when the very same Drownies rise up from down down down below, from the deep Zee to add their point of view to this story!

The Words are alive! Oh such a wonderful place to be, to feel warm and listen to such inspirational material!

The Violinist looks at Doe and he notices their eyes are the same deep colour of the depths of the Unterzee! They bow down to Doe and smile, changing tune. Silvery lyrics appear on the rocks all around this wild gathering, telling a story:

Long ago, there was a Sailor. And a Chess Player. The Sailor loved her so much but never told her. She played a game but not any game: a Great Game.

They departed and never seen each other again as a City Fell. Fell? From above they say, betrayed and sold!

The Sailor made friends and loved and searched for her far and wide.

A mountain! A mountain made of light? Oh beautiful visions of light and love! But it also takes. Love can take away not just give.

Ten years lost to the Light, the Apocyan ghost turning Violant now, dancing with the Violinist Captain, telling about their struggles, now!

Struggle with the light to let them go, to return to Violant eyes and auburn locks of golden hair! Are these belonging to the same person? Or not?

A reunion! A Lost one, killed for a Cup of blood. And seven dead love stories! It rings a bell and Jonathin cannot help but shiver a little remembering his own fights.

Ghosts of a young lady of golden Cosmogone and one in Peligin of the Violinst but younger, less scarred, dance as the Pirate Poet and the Captain sing the last verse. The ghosts bow to the audience, hug each other and disappear in a shower of cosmogone and peligin sparks like a firework in the night.

The Captain catches Doe's eye and silently form a few words, directed at him alone:

"Welcome to the Requiem, Jonathin Doe."

On the returning trip to London, a Violant Winged Bat will bring him a small book, Apocyan in colour, with an inscription:

"Take the stories of tonight with you, Poet and make them yours. My Words for your Words. May this be the beginning of a wonderful friendship. Yours truly, Captain Francis Dargor Morgan"

[trans-lykanthropie]

New Faces

The ship came to a slow, gentle stop in port, carefully coaxed in by all hands on deck. The long journey is, for now, over. Unloading the passengers takes hours, however, as snaking queues clatter down the gang planks hauling cases and bags. Soon after the unloading of cargo will start, but you don't need to be around for that. The captain has been tending to her own duties, checking that her trunk is sorted, and gathering up the ship's log book to take to the company offices. For once she's in her proper uniform and looks rather smart; a long navy blue top coat, wing collar and black tie, and her usual peaked cap. You bump into her as she's leaving her cabin.

"Oi oi!" she beams. Even in her smart clothes, she's still the same wild character as always.

"Good thing I bumped into you, I was going to ask if you wanted to get a pint? I need to go drop off these logs first, you can come with and we'll get a drink after. Sound good?"

She doesn't even give you time to answer before clapping you on the shoulder in her typical way.

"Grand stuff, let's go."

Eventually the two of you reach dry land, after talking with the other crew on the way out. You'll all see each other again in a few days when the ship is due to put to sea again, but for now it's just you and the captain. After a whistle-stop tour to see the most humourless desk clerk you've encountered at the Reedereibüro the two of you set off along the dockside, weaving amid freight and jostling through the melee of people. You try to match the captain's bounding strides, who seems to melt through the throng without a problem, and you spot how occasionally dockers will look in your direction. Sometimes the captain waves, to the surprise of the other party. One man holding a skein of cord seems to whisper something to a young boy, who goes sprinting off into the crowd. They can't recognise you surely, you've never been here before.

After cutting through the crowds effortlessly, and talking without pause on a jumble of subjects both professional and personal, the captain dives down an alleyway to the right. Clearly she knows the place well, that much is obvious. The streets get narrower the deeper you go, and more and more often you hear whispers in courtyards and catch sight of people looking out of gloomy windows. After a surprisingly speedy and exhausting forced march, you reach a ramshackle pub. The sign above the door, impeccably painted and maintained, reads 'The Fiddler's Green'.

Swinging an arm around your shoulders, the captain deftly bounds through the door in a single effortless motion. The interior is gloomy, lit by a few sputtering oil lamps hanging from nails that curl up from the wall posts and hang from rafters. The air is heavy yet cozy, the wood muffles sound in the way old timber frame buildings do. A woman is standing behind the bar, cleaning glasses and heavy beer mugs whilst humming a tune to herself.

The captain presses her finger to her lips and virtually drags you across the room. When you're only two thirds of the way to the bar, the woman looks up and gasps.

"Dear Gods!" she splutters, setting the mug down with a heavy thud on the countertop, "Nelly!"

Before you know it, the woman has leapt around the end of the bar and grabbed the captain in a long hug. The captain returns it in kind as the two laugh.

"I didn't know you were back on land!" the woman says, almost in tears, "Gods the place is going to be full to the rafters tonight mark my words. Look at you! You've changed, yet you're still the same little whelp I know. How long are you staying? You can have the smaller room if you want, we've got guests in the other I'm afraid. Have you eaten? How's it been at sea? Cripes I need to get Badger to tell the others, they'll want to know you're here."

Her stream-of-conscious ends abruptly as she realises you're there. For a moment she's extremely wary and casts her eyes over you.

"Oh how rude of me, who's this then?" she asks, suddenly coming across as quite formal. The captain introduces you and she relaxes again, back to her previous warm demeanor.

"Think of them as one of the pack, they're lovely. I can vouch for them," the captain says, winking at you. You're not sure what being 'one of the pack' entails, but you don't really have time to think about before a door behind the bar opens and a tall, heavy set figure walks in, tucking a weighty hammer under his broad leather belt.

"And where on earth have you been, you scoundrel?!" the figure booms, grinning broadly. A flash of sharp teeth. Even the captain seems dwarfed by the man as he lumbers over with those same, oddly muffled footsteps that the captain makes. In a blink of an eye she's in a headlock, laughing as her cap falls to the floor to be grabbed by a young girl you hadn't noticed was there. Members of the family, mostly young but also a few adults, seem to be filtering invisibly into the room through hidden doorways. You hadn't realised how busy it was until now.

The captain makes sure to introduce you to everyone, and you receive an endless barrage of hugs, vigorous handshakes, claps on the back, and shy wide-eyed greetings from the younger ones. In the distance you can just about hear the wail of factory whistles echoing as the workday ends.

The man with the hammer is called Edward ("Gods no, please call me Tip, everyone else does") and asks you lots of questions, pressing a pint into your hand as he talks with the same breathless enthusiasm the captain does. The captain herself is chatting to the woman from before, whose name is May, and ruffling the hair of the young girl who's still clinging tight to her hat. A few more women and men come in to roars of excitement and another round of emotional greeting. Nothing, however, could prepare you for when, about ten minutes later, the pub door bursts open anew causing the plate glass in the window to rattle.

"Who's this stranger in our neck of the woods?" a man in a flat cap cries, and a gang of working folk of all kinds floods the bar like an unstoppable wave. The chaos is boundless, a cacophony of voices that you find yourself in the middle of. You're still standing next to Tip, but now you're being enthusiastically grilled by a docker called Horatio on the subject of engines (he seems well informed as he wipes oily grime from his hands with a cloth). A fearsome and matronly fishmonger called Ms. Flite asks about how the captain was aboard ship and if she 'behaved herself', as a young lad in a smart suit whose name you didn't hear chuckles when you relate some of your more eerie experiences aboard the Fenrir. The din only rises as the captain and a group of compatriots break out into a bawdy rendition of The Barley Mow. It's enough to make your head spin, yet you feel strangely at home in the throng of people.

After a while, Tip strides to the bar and, checking that all the adults have some kind of drink in their hand, silence the room with his deep booming voice.

"Everyone," he calls to the room, "to our little Nelly!"

The thunderous cheers and raising of glasses threatens to bring the ceiling down, and the captain, beaming and blushing bright red, graciously accepts toast with a bow. Her wing collar and tie are already gone, she's back to her usual messy self.

"To the pack!" she calls back, and the cheers begin again. Horatio takes a swig of his own drink then looks at you.

"Drink up friend!" he shouts over the renewed clamour of conversation, "Next one's on me!"

[salad-juice-enjoyer]

Call me Captain Ahab the way I'm trying to hunt that Docker whale.

[shaggyskull]

Walk, walk, fashion baby~

(The Fellswap Brothers)

💜 Tyr

In a word, Tyr’s personal style would be described as expensive. He appreciates elegant, minimalist, and sophisticated fashion, and everything he owns has been tailored to his exact measurements. If he sees anything with a stitch length longer than a millimeter, he doesn’t want it; better yet, he thinks that most stitches should be completely hidden. Tyr’s palette consists of blacks, whites, golds, and purples.

Work: Tyr wears his Royal Guard Captain’s uniform of which he has several - each of them are used for slightly different situations with variations in their adornments. If he has two that look the same, he will point out that the buttons on THIS one are gold while the buttons on THAT one are bronze, ALSO, the lining is different, the collar is a quarter of an inch longer, the shoulders are… and so on and so forth. Tyr wears gloves, high heeled boots, and an ascot with his uniform. He has a set of sleek armor for the more unsavory parts of Royal Guard business.

Exercise: He tends to go for a simple, all-black neck to toe fitted look. This is one of the few times you will see him without heels on, trading them in for black trainers.

Day-to-day: See ‘Work’ above. This monster does not have much free time and so is rarely out of uniform. When he IS dressing for himself, he may wear either a button down with an interesting collar and cuff links, a single breasted overcoat, a suit and tie, etc. He does not own a single short sleeved t-shirt and would sooner die than don one.

Formal: Bring out the mess dress, complete with tons of medals, tassels, a cap, and so on, and paired with his shiniest boots and finest gloves. Depending on the event, he may line his sockets in gold eyeliner.

Nightwear: Tyr thinks that silk sheets are tacky but silk pajama suits paired with dressing robes are classy. This is the only other time he will not be wearing heels, sporting evening loafers instead.

~~~~~~

🧡 Rus

Rus’s general style may best be described as eclectic, mixing elements of streetwear, grunge, techwear, and dated trends of yesteryear into one messy explosion. He likes wearing anything he thinks might get his brother to raise a brow. Some days he likes to play with loud colors and patterns and some days he likes to wear only dark colors, it entirely depends on his mood.

Day-to-day: Rus often goes for his trusty fur-lined duster, but also has some full fur coats, some techwear pieces, and some of the baggiest clothing possible for his frame. He likes wearing dated converse boots that Tyr has threatened to burn if he sees them on one of his sofas one more time. Docker hats are his go-to when he isn’t wearing something with a hood. If he’s riding with Pyre in his convertible, he will whip out a gas mask to wear and be banished to the back seat. (Pyre thinks the gas mask is cooler than Pappy’s preferred facial covering, so Rus will not be threatened with trunk banishment. Pyre will end up regretting not banishing Rus to the trunk based on actions unrelated to how Rus is dressed.) He always makes sure that he has his collar on when he goes out.

Formal: Rus will intentionally dress down for a formal event unless The Queen is present. In that case, he’ll wear some of what Tyr expects him to for his brother’s sake.

Nightwear: he’s a bare bones kind of guy but will keep a pair of short shorts close by just in case he needs to throw something on quickly.

[chodelver]

What Makes Boat Rentals So Special?

The boating experience in Lake Travis offers the ultimate Austin enjoyment. It has a large selection of rental boats suitable for novice and veteran boaters alike, there's something here for anyone - from wakesurfing, to admiring the beautiful scenery it's a place for all to enjoy! Lake Travis area boasts numerous activities that draw people from across the state and one of them is Devil's Cove - a party spot known for its nude sunbathing as well as wild nightlife. When it is a holiday weekend, up to 200 boats may be rafting here. If your children are small or aren't a fan of crowds, it might be wise to stay away from.

Riviera Marina offers an idyllic and relaxing waterfront experience, and is the only clothes-independent open-air park for the public in California. The sunbathers as well as swimmers often come here naked; dockers can gain entry for free if arriving via boat! Open daily.

Lake Travis offers some of the best bass fishing available in Central Texas. Anglers can catch species such as bigmouth bass, guadalupe as well as white bass in this area. For the best experience and to assure the most profitable fishing experience, reserve a charter with experienced captains as well as follow the most basic boating the rules.

The most important thing to see on the lake is Pennybacker Bridge, also known as Austin 360 Bridge. Situated on its western edge The iconic structure is used as a symbol for the locals as well as visitors; it has numerous docks-and-diners like Hula Hut, Ski Shores Cafe and Abel's restaurant on the Lake. By visiting the site it is easy to learn what you need to know about boat rentals Lake Travis .

If you prefer more relaxed methods of exploring the lake and the surrounding area, a pontoonboat rental might be the solution. These luxury boats can hold up to 12 passengers comfortably and come with a Bluetooth audio system, a floating Lily pad, and slide built-in for extra fun. For a romantic sail, book an or sunset cruise around Texas Sailing-one of the very few Beneteau Platinum Dealers nationwide.

Rental boats Lake Travis offers relatively calm waters and easily navigable coves which are ideal for those with any level! It is easy to locate and reserve the perfect boat rentals for you and your family, make use of the online search feature and reservations tool.

Riviera Marina is a family-owned business owned and operated since the year 1995 offering top of the line rentals Friendly staff and most excellent customer service in Austin. The goal of our company is to give guests a memorable boating experience to ensure that your time is spent having great time! You can rent by the hour or day Be sure to take note of instruction in the water, charters, cruises! We hope to see you soon in the water!

Riviera Marina provides quality ski boats, pontoons and jet skis to suit your needs for lake adventures if you aren't the owner of a vessel yet or don't feel confident controlling one by yourself. The marina even offers captain service should you find it difficult or a daunting task! If driving your own vehicle is not feasible or just doesn't seem appealing, Riviera Marina also provides captain services so that your experience won't be wasted.

Additionally, for larger events there are four amazing yacht rentals which can host up to 24 persons for a party: the gorgeous 40ft Maxum Cruiser named Knot Again as well as an Gibson 370 Sport Cruiser with numerous decks named Casino Royale for 20 passengers; and Cruisers Yachts 41ft party yacht with the name Goldeneye with a capacity of the capacity of 30.

Imagine taking a cruise across Lake Travis aboard one of their party barges that have double-deckers with around 49 of your most beloved acquaintances on the party barge rentals that are available at an hourly rate! You can easily make an entire day of it! Make sure you know that the you must pay in full when booking online or over the phone. All cancellations received within 48 hours of the date will receive a full refund.

[qnewsau]

AFLW Pride Round guernseys unveiled, and they’re fantastic!

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/aflw-pride-round-guernsey/

AFLW Pride Round guernseys unveiled, and they’re fantastic!

Colourful pride and inclusion lead the way as we head into the AFLW Pride Round.

Week seven of the AFLW season sees all 18 clubs celebrate their annual Pride Round.

Pride, respect, love and inclusion are the themes the AFLW clubs are celebrating during this year’s Pride Round.

Teams celebrate and support the diversity and inclusion of LGBTQI+ communities in AFL, both on and off the field.

All 18 teams will don a specially designed pride-themed guernsey as they take to the field this weekend.

Everyone is welcome at the AFL.

Giants co-captain Kat Smith designed the team’s guernsey for their match against Adelaide at Henson Park.

And it has a special connection for the players.

“I think it’s really unique to the whole competition, having a different pride game for their home games.” Kat told us.

“Pride Round is my favourite game. I’ve been a part of the rainbow community since I was 12 years old.”

“It’s always had a special place in my heart. AFL is a place where everyone is welcome.”

Kat admits designing the guernsey was no small feet but very important to her.

“All the different colours of the pride flag are there, so no matter where you identify, you hopefully see yourself there.”

“A key feature was the ‘Never Surrender’ strip on the charcoal guernsey.”

“The rainbow community never surrenders and continues to push for equality and acceptance, and we wanted to highlight that.”

There are five words on the back of the GIANTS guernsey: all-embracing, confidence, togetherness, inclusivity and love.

Kat created these with two of her teammates, who are allies.

“I have no design ability at all. So I had a few conversations and got some ideas.”

“I then sent it through to the team, and they helped put it all together.”

The Western Bulldogs guernsey was designed by the members playing group and features the colours of the transgender flag.

The inaugural Pride Game was established by the Bulldogs and Carlton in 2018.

The Bulldogs, who play Essendon on Friday night, have included trans colours in their designs since 2022.

Based on the club’s white clash guernsey, it has gender-identity symbols featured across the pink and blue hoops in the centre.

These were included to represent the diversity of the LGBTQIA+ community.

The Bulldogs Pride Supporter group is not only excited for this year’s match on Friday but is walking with pride to the match, and you can join them.

You can join them at the western end of the car park from 5 pm.

The group will start to walk half an hour later before the opening proceedings.

Who’s pride guernsey is your fav?

The Roos design was led by former player Ailish Considine, celebrating love and unity.

It features the royal blue stripes and iconic Bounding Roo, lined with the colours of the Progressive Pride flag.

With a heart in the centre of the Roo and the message ‘Love Unites’ inscribed at the bottom of the guernsey.

Port Adelaide’s Pride Guernsey is designed by players Abbey Dowrick and Hannah Ewings.

“It was all pretty foreign for me. Lucky. I had nothing to do with the drawings. I’m horrible when it comes to being an artist”

“I’m just glad that what we thought of came to life,” Ewings said.

Named the Power of Pride, the design represents all who make up the Port Adelaide community.

“I really love the club’s tri-bolt guernsey design, so I wanted us to try to replicate something like that with the lightning bolt but then make it our own as well.”

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  A post shared by Fremantle Dockers AFLW (@freodockersaflw)

“AFLW is all about equality and inclusiveness and it was important to us to incorporate those and some other important words in our design.”

“For me, the biggest thing is just accepting who you are and loving who you are.”

“The Pride Round is always such a special week to see how many people get out in all sorts of colours.”

“You can feel the joy around the football community when everyone gets around each other and loves love.”

St Kilda has an interlocking rainbow pattern that celebrates diversity and acceptance.

This year’s design will be the fourth Pride guernsey the Saints have worn in the AFLW competition.

The Sydney Swans couldn’t wait to celebrate their pride, wearing them this weekend at Henson Park against the Cats.

The Hawks guernsey not only features the rainbow hawk front and centre but also the Hawks Pride logo, highlighting the important work of their supporter group.

With only a few days left before this year’s AFLW Pride Round there are still a few more guernsey designs to be unveiled.

But we can’t wait to see them all shine with pride.

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  A post shared by North Melbourne Women’s (@nmfcwomens)

Read more:

AFLW power couple become mums for the first time

Gold Coast AFLW player Tori Groves-Little on coming out as non-binary

Muslim AFLW star Haneen Zreika sits out Pride Round over jersey

Brisbane Lions to play in AFLW’s first Pride Round this weekend

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[skyappz-academy]

"Top Software Training Courses"

In the rapidly evolving landscape of technology, staying updated with the latest skills and knowledge is crucial for professionals in the software industry. Quality software training courses can provide individuals with the expertise needed to excel in their careers and contribute meaningfully to their organizations. Here are some of the top software training courses that cover a wide range of technologies and skill sets.

1. "The Complete Web Developer Course 2.0" by Rob Percival

This comprehensive course covers web development from front-end to back-end, including HTML, CSS, JavaScript, Node.js, and MongoDB. With hands-on projects and practical exercises, students gain practical experience in building responsive websites and web applications.

2. "Machine Learning A-Z™: Hands-On Python & R In Data Science" by Kirill Eremenko and Hadelin de Ponteves

Ideal for aspiring data scientists and machine learning enthusiasts, this course covers a wide range of machine learning algorithms and techniques using Python and R. Students learn how to apply machine learning to real-world problems and build predictive models.

3. "iOS 13 & Swift 5 - The Complete iOS App Development Bootcamp" by Dr. Angela Yu

Designed for beginners and intermediate developers, this bootcamp covers iOS app development using Swift 5 and Xcode 11. Students learn how to build full-fledged iOS apps, including user interfaces, data storage, networking, and app deployment.

4. "The Complete JavaScript Course 2021: From Zero to Expert!" by Jonas Schmedtmann

This comprehensive course covers JavaScript programming from beginner to advanced levels. Students learn essential JavaScript concepts, such as variables, functions, arrays, and objects, as well as advanced topics like asynchronous JavaScript and modern ES6+ features.

5. "Python for Data Science and Machine Learning Bootcamp" by Jose Portilla

Ideal for individuals interested in data science and machine learning, this bootcamp covers Python programming, data analysis, machine learning, and data visualization using libraries such as NumPy, Pandas, Matplotlib, Seaborn, and Scikit-learn.

6. "React - The Complete Guide (incl Hooks, React Router, Redux)" by Maximilian Schwarzmüller

This comprehensive course covers React.js, a popular JavaScript library for building user interfaces. Students learn React fundamentals, including components, props, state, and hooks, as well as advanced topics like React Router and Redux for state management.

7. "Docker Mastery: with Kubernetes +Swarm from a Docker Captain" by Bret Fisher

Ideal for DevOps engineers and system administrators, this course covers Docker and Kubernetes, two popular containerization technologies used for deploying and managing applications. Students learn how to build, deploy, and scale containerized applications using Docker and Kubernetes.

Conclusion

These top software training courses cover a wide range of technologies and skill sets, including web development, machine learning, iOS app development, JavaScript, Python, React.js, Docker, and Kubernetes. Whether you're a beginner looking to get started in a new field or an experienced developer seeking to expand your skill set, these courses offer valuable resources and practical insights to help you succeed in the software industry. By investing time and effort in learning from these courses, you'll be well-equipped to tackle the challenges and opportunities in the ever-evolving world of technology.

Read more

[bongaboi]

Lachie Neale: 2023 AFL Brownlow Medal Winner

STAR Brisbane midfielder Lachie Neale has won the 2023 Brownlow Medal, becoming just the 16th player in VFL/AFL history to win the prestigious award multiple times after prevailing in a thrilling count on Monday night.

Neale, who won the 2020 Brownlow Medal in a dominant season and will be playing to win his first premiership in Saturday's Grand Final, polled 31 votes to win from Western Bulldogs captain Marcus Bontempelli on 29.

The brilliant onballer was confirmed as the winner only after collecting three votes in the final round of the season, with five players entering round 24 as winning chances.

Collingwood star Nick Daicos (28 votes) finished third after entering the final round level with Neale, with Sydney wingman Errol Gulden (27), Port Adelaide star Zak Butters (27), and Melbourne Norm Smith medallist Christian Petracca narrowly behind on 26.

It was Neale who surpassed them all, however, after saving his seventh best on ground performance until the final round of the year, receiving his Medal in Brisbane as he prepares for Saturday's Grand Final.

Neale joined club great's Jason Akermanis (2001) and Simon Black (2002) in winning the Brownlow Medal during the week of a Grand Final appearance, with Michael Voss (1996) making it five Medals in total for Brisbane.

The former Docker, who joins ex-teammate Nat Fyfe as a dual winner, was rewarded for a season in which he averaged 27.4 disposals across 23 home-and-away games, averaging 8.1 clearances as one of the game's stoppage specialists.

It was a different season for Neale compared to his 2020 win, which also saw him poll 31 votes but instead win by a massive 10 votes from runner-up Travis Boak, also collecting the AFL Players Association MVP and AFL Coaches Association Player of the Year.

The ball-winner, who was runner-up to Patrick Cripps last year, was caught by surprise as he emerged as a winning threat through the evening.

He was the first player to win the most prestigious individual award without being named in the All-Australian team since West Coast midfielder Matt Priddis in 2014.

"It doesn't sit very well at the moment. I'm sure it will sink in at a later date. I'm pretty rattled to be honest," Neale said after being presented with his Medal by coach Chris Fagan at a function with teammates in Brisbane.

"I did not expect this, and to be amongst some of those names that have won two is unbelievable. To be in Brisbane, preparing for a Grand Final, is amazing. I haven't been involved in this week for a decade, so I'm excited."

It was heartbreak for Bontempelli, who was also runner-up in 2021. Daicos, meanwhile, led the count for seven weeks after round 17 but couldn't hold on.

The young Magpies star, in just his second season, was the pre-count favourite and made a fast start as expected, polling 13 votes to lead after six rounds with three early best-on-ground performances.

His votes dried up over the next four rounds, however, with the midfielder overlooked for votes in some of the bigger performances of his season, including a 41-disposal game against Greater Western Sydney in round nine.

Petracca and Neale instead made a run and jockeyed at the top of the leaderboard through the middle stages, with Neale taking the lead back for a three-week run after round 14.

Gold Coast midfielder Noah Anderson was the surprise vote-getter, sitting as high as equal second after 15 rounds following his fifth best-on-ground performance and remaining in striking distance thereafter.

The leading contenders all pressed with big games in round 16, with Daicos collecting his second consecutive set of three votes to move into second place on the leaderboard, just one vote behind Neale.

The 20-year-old continued to surge in a stunning run of post-bye form and took the outright lead in round 17 during a run of four consecutive best-on-ground performances.

Daicos had a battle on his hands knowing injury would strike early in the round 21 clash against Hawthorn, but he held the lead all the way to the final round of the season.

BROWNLOW MEDAL 2023 LEADERBOARD

Lachie Neale (Brisbane Lions) – 31

Marcus Bontempelli (Western Bulldogs) – 29

Nick Daicos (Collingwood) – 28

=4. Zak Butters (Port Adelaide), Errol Gulden (Sydney Swans) – 27

Christian Petracca (Melbourne) – 26

=7. Caleb Serong (Fremantle), Jack Viney (Melbourne) – 24

=9. Noah Anderson (Gold Coast Suns), Patrick Cripps (Carlton) – 22

[cricketfun]

Fremantle Dockers' Nat Fyfe suffers injury blow Fremantle is ruing a major blow to cham... #usa #uk

[fanofsports]

Fremantle Dockers' Nat Fyfe suffers injury blow

Fremantle is ruing a major blow to champion midfielder Nat Fyfe after scans revealed a stress fracture in his left foot, placing his availability for the remainder of the season in doubt. The former Fremantle captain was substituted out of Saturday’s clash with the Western Bulldogs at Marvel Stadium, which the Dockers lost by 29 points, after he experienced soreness in the foot that’s been…

[trans-lykanthropie]

Trans werewolf captain is sleeping off the drink in the guest room of the Fiddler's Green right now by the way, she's been enjoying seeing her pack again

In an unrelated article there were reports of a small riot at the local music hall last night after the show turned out, rumoured to be between dockers and steel workers from the Henley and Farrow Steel Foundary up Thornminster way. Nobody was admitted to local hospitals as a result of the street fight.