you can cover the corinthian in all the blood you want that does not change the fact that he scrapbooks
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The death certificate doesn't make sense. The longer he looks at the documents, the more they fall apart before his eyes. The new doctor had confirmed it. Which means...
Laurence had lied to him. The Commodore was murdered, and Roberts won't rest until he finds who did it and rends them piece by piece.
Once he weans himself off of the laudanum the perpetrators become child's play to locate--hardly bothering to hide their crime. Prideful, even, that they'd finally avenged themselves against the man who'd given the order to sink that ship, kill the people they most loved. The order Roberts had carried out personally, because orders are meant to be followed.
The chase carries him half way across the Zee, passed the Iron Republic, where law melts and bubbles, deeper south, into the Machine's domain. Under the first rays of dawnlight the ships take their positions.
He has to kill them. Avenge the Commodore, the man he'd loved like a father. But then what? Take his seat at the helm of the Admiralty? Take the Commodore's place, never knowing where the next knife in the back will come from? The dawnlight stings his eyes. He feels nauseous. Wasn't it once comforting? But there's no comfort here. Killing them won't bring back the Commodore, just like killing him or the Commodore hadn't brought back the Beverleys. All it causes is more death, more pain, more loss. He doesn't want this, any of this. The dawnlight pulses on the horizon. It feels wrong.
He turns the ship around. Enough.
No shots follow.
Slowly but surely, as they zail, the light at the ship's aft fades. He feels like he can breathe again.
He doesn't know what awaits him in London, but he hopes it's something better.
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Worst thing abt drinking black coffee is the fifteen minutes you spend just sort of babysitting it until it won't cause a level 3 thermonuclear tongue evisceration event
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It’s been really long since I’ve posted any art on this blog, so HERE! Take these sketches of Tallulah!
TALLULAH TUESDAY!!! :D
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Now let's toss out whatever the holy grain chalice whatever the fuck this cup is.
And put a really important one here.
Is it a horcrux?
Now that he's alone he can mourn and cry as much as he wants.
The caption reading "sobbing" is killing me.
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Oswald of the day 2 ft. Cliff!
Them except its that one frame from Lackadaisy, I can't be the only one who sees this right??
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The Stanley cup thing wouldn't be bad, except it's just been released that they contain lead solder in them which can be exposed if the cup is damaged.
Oops. Well, that's definitely not good.
(Says the woman who wants to raise children in a Victorian house with, among other old toys, a dollhouse made by her great-great-grandfather in the 1920s)
(But I WILL take pains to make sure no lead goes into their mouths, which seems like a step above giving them Convey Drink Into Mouth vessels with a lead risk)
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