#ftt

[fizztapp]

chuckster custom

[salty-ironstrange-shipper]

Stephen: I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it.

Tony: Yes you can, it's just less great and less hot.

[esta-elavaris]

Part Nineteen [2,416 words] ~ James Norrington/OC

An AU of my completed, 400k+ word fanfic Catch the Wind [AO3], in which Elizabeth, not James, is the one to discover Theodora Byrne after she crash-lands into the world of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Page breaks by cafekitsune.

Also now on AO3 and FF.net.

Masterlist of all chapters.

Tag list [let me know if you want to be added!]: @teawithshakespeare @missfronkensteen @dancerinthestorm

A/N: I did not intend to take such a long break from this – but I’m so grateful for how patient you all were!

When Theo received her own personal invite to Amelia Simmonds’ garden party a week after the incident, she had no idea if it was because of the incident and the boundless gossip opportunities it presented, or because Port Royal couldn’t keep a secret for shit and it was now common knowledge that she was being courted by Captain Norrington.

Back home, a garden party would be a boombox in the garden with a cooler full of beers, and a few different choices of Dorito flavours artfully bowled across a white plastic table. It was a bit of a different affair here. The patio doors were flung open and a string quartet was on standby to greet the guests as they filtered out into the hot Caribbean sun under blindingly bright dresses with matching parasols, where canapes and fine crystal glasses of indistinguishable beverages awaited them.

It wasn’t surprising to Theo – and it was probably less surprising to everybody else – that she had no idea how to act. Oh, in settings such as these she had long since learned to follow Elizabeth’s lead, but there was no lead to follow when it came to her new status as far as Port Royal’s most beloved captain was concerned. And not knowing how to act while also being under such heavy scrutiny? That was yet another source of pressure.

Yes, she could follow James’ lead, as well as guessing based on how they’d conducted their visits – for he had visited at least once every day while she ‘recovered’, even if his schedule meant that visit was a mere ten minutes between other things. And she’d found she’d begun to actively look forward to those visits, and was disappointed when they were over.

Oh, she was completely doomed.

Still, that doom came to her dressed dashingly as usual in his full formal get-up the moment she was alone, wielding a glass with some indiscernible liquid in each hand.

“For you,” he handed her one of the tiny glasses.

Theo peered at the glass, barely bigger than her thumb, her brow furrowed.

“It’s Bénédictine,” he said.

“Oh, I know, I just…I don’t know if I can manage all of this,” she said.

James sighed his impatience – fondly, at that – and she continued.

“I mean, look at that. You could drown in there. No, it’s just far too much. I get bored of all drinks after the first mouthful, and this? This has two. Maybe even three. I’ll never manage it.”

“I see you’re feeling better,” he said, a note of humour breaking up his rueful tone. “You must be, if you’re back to teasing me.”

She did feel better. Whatever she’d been plied with for the sake of her ‘nerves’ had, at the time, left her feeling a little foggy, and with a sense of contentment too blankets like and hazy to be real...and once it’d worn off, she’d paid the price for that. Something to do with burning through too much dopamine in too short a time, she suspected, leaving her to do without after the fact. That had been rough. But it hadn’t lasted long, no more than a day, considering she hadn’t been on the stuff long enough to warrant proper withdrawals. Mostly she’d been tired.

...And a little scared. All right, more than a ‘little’ scared. Of what was yet to come. Of the mess she’d gotten herself into. Of the choices she was still making, to be ‘courted’ by a man from the eighteenth century, who should not exist, who was doomed to die, who would hate her if he knew all she kept from him...and who she couldn’t possibly actually have any future with, even if she did manage to circumvent his fate. Right? Staying with him would mean...staying altogether.

And worse still, she wasn’t standing here wishing that she’d done anything differently. Was it any wonder she hadn’t had the heart to needle him?

“Did you miss it?” she asked. “The teasing?”

“More than I should admit.”

All those in attendance at the garden party – all of the eyes who sought to discern just how Port Royal’s newest courting couple would behave around one another – would have no difficulty seeing how she blushed then.

Clearing her throat, she did her best to ignore that blush and spoke. “No regrets on not choosing team shark, then?”

“None thus far. Ask me again in a week or two,” he said drily, a small smile playing on his lips.

“A week?” she gasped. “You think it’ll take that long? You absolute saint, you.”

That earned her a full-blown smile. At least until he made the mistake of casting a glance about those gathered – all of the eyes flickering to them from beneath parasols, over fans, and across drinks. It was enough to dampen his joy, a little, for he straightened, but the smile didn’t fully disappear. Discomfort, it seemed, more than embarrassment. That was a relief. An Irish castaway with no social standing, save for Governor Swann’s daughter having taken a fondness for her, was an unconventional choice, and James Norrington was nothing if not conventional. Or, well, that was how it was supposed to be for now.

“I do hope I’m the only one between us who has the feeling of being an exhibit at a zoo,” he remarked.

“You get used to it,” she offered quietly.

“I...yes. I suppose it’s been that way for you here since the beginning. And my saintly behaviour did not help.”

“Eh, it was a welcome distraction. Passed the time.”

“You’re too generous.”

Feeling bold, she disguised her next words behind a sip of the drink he’d brought her. “You’re too handsome.”

A shocked laugh sprang forth from him, followed by a good deal of spluttering before he finally cleared his throat and shook his head, pretending to find the nearest patch of grass incredibly fascinating. Her smugness lasted about as long as it took her to actually taste the contents of her glass, though, after which her nose wrinkled and she went back to nursing the glass, wondering how exactly she could get rid of it without looking like even more of a wildly uncultured swine.

“There was a matter I wanted to raise with you, while you’re here. I didn’t want to trouble you with it before, nor ruin our visits together...but...well...”

Now she was standing in the garden of the House of Simmonds, there wasn’t much to ruin. She didn’t voice that fact, but the knowing look she cast about the setting seemed to show him that she understood well enough.

“Your father,” he said finally.

“My father?” she echoed weakly.

“I know there are things you have yet to share with me,” a note of sourness threatened to seep into his voice, but he fought it valiantly. “And I shall not rush you. But...you were trying to reach him, yes? And he is...he is a military man? Those are parts of your tale that I never doubted.”

“Yeah- yes. Yes.”

“Would you allow me to begin the process of attempting to find him?”

Theodora stared. And he apparently took that as an answer, continuing quickly but firmly.

“I will not rush you, I spoke truthfully when I said that, I swear it. Not in this, nor in...nor in this,” he motioned, barely, in a way that indicated between the two of them. “But I am keenly aware, as I’m sure you are, that this is a process that may take some time. A long, long time. By the time letters fall into the wrong hands, then reach the right ones, and then receive responses. Is it not better to begin it now? And then the rest of the timing will be at our leisure. At your leisure.”

Pragmatic to a fault. And still too, too fucking good. Whatever he saw in her face, he apparently disliked, for he adjusted where he stood so that his back would block her face from the view of all others in attendance.

“The last thing I wish to do is make you uncomfortable. I’ve done enough of that. And I do not ask this for my own sake, so that we might- I wish to reunite you. Only that. And what else it may or may not bring can be discussed at a later date.”

“Can I think on it?” she asked quietly, finding herself completely unable to look at him.

The correct thing to do, from a standpoint of cold hard logic, would be to agree. To let this already impossibly busy and dutiful man take on extra work, chasing down someone who had not yet been born, for a woman he likely would no longer regard with any affection once he knew the truth. Because what reason could she have to disagree? His patience, on this matter, was a finite thing, and sooner or later he would need an explanation. Telling him no would shorten that span of time, but telling him yes would only have her deserving his hatred twofold, should the truth come out and he realises it was a pointless venture from the very beginning.

“Of course you can.”

Sighing, she almost brought the glass to her lips for another sip, just for something to do with her hands, before she remembered how foul it tasted and dropped it again. “He’d really like you, you know.”

“Only if you mask some of the finer details of these last few months,” he mused, though his eyes remained trained on her features, seeking out any hint of what she really wanted to say.

“I may be open to bribes.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

A few beats of silence passed, and then Theo straightened, hesitated, and sighed.

“James...”

“Hello, you two!” Elizabeth was on them then, lowering her voice after her initial sunny greeting. “I am here in a glowing display of proof that I am neither spurned nor offended. How am I faring?”

James coughed, his current resolution towards candour challenged by Elizabeth’s bluntness, but when his eyes found Theo’s face again, she met his gaze and found he was doing his utmost to show through eye contact alone that he was not angry with her. Frustrated, perhaps, but not angry. 

“Valiantly. You haven’t slapped me or anything,” she answered Elizabeth, spirits bolstered enough by that reassurance to joke a little.

“Miss Swann must be too frightened to do so, after your victory against your last foe.”

“The shark? That was your victory,” Theo pointed out.

“I shan’t claim it. Consider that my first of many bribes,” he replied drily. “And this the second.”

As he spoke, he plucked the glass from her hand and, after making sure the view of the others was fully shielded, emptied its contents into the grass. It was criminal for a grown man to be that adorable. Especially when his face softened at how his actions had her fighting back a smile.

“I’ll leave you two in peace. Miss Swann. Th- Miss Byrne.”

“You know, I never thought I’d see the day when anybody could make him forget formalities so easily. Perhaps you really are a witch,” Elizabeth murmured conspiratorially – mercifully, once he was out of earshot.

Theo didn’t respond.

“The two of you really are so precious, you know,” she prodded again.

“He wants to track down my dad.”

“What?”

“My father. He was asking permission to get the ball rolling to track him down, and reunite us.”

“Oh that’s so romantic!”

“Elizabeth.”

Never before had she felt such a keen need to monitor herself so closely – her tone, her expressions, her body language. For not only were all gathered here watching, but she knew James would be too, trying to get a sense of her reaction when she mightn’t feel the need to filter it for his sake. For he knew that Elizabeth knew everything. And she could therefore be more forthcoming with her. If she freaked out now, if she spoke in anything other than a casual tone, with anything but a smile on her face, he’d grow more suspicious. He’d demand answers sooner.

And if he did that? She’d have a mind to just tell him the bloody truth and be done with it. But that wasn’t possible. Was it?

“What? It is! I’d never say it in front of him, I know how easily he embarrasses, but even you can’t deny it’s terribly sweet-”

“Elizabeth.”

“What, Theo?” Elizabeth laughed impatiently, evidently frustrated that she was equally thrilled alongside her.

“What am I supposed to say?” she said through a smile that was more just like gritted teeth. “What am I supposed to tell him?!”

“The only thing you can tell him. Yes. It’ll be a grave insult otherwise,” Elizabeth replied as though it were obvious. 

“So I’m supposed to just let him chase after someone who doesn’t exist?”

“It’ll make him happy!”

“And then when he finds out the truth?”

“...If he finds out the truth, you can handle it when it comes.”

There were times, when she spent time with Elizabeth, where she marvelled at how all of the divides between them made little difference. Those of the times, lifestyles, wealth, and even age. This was not one of those times.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is!” Elizabeth insisted, appearing irked at her now. “Enough of this, for now. We can’t be seen to be bickering now, they’ll assume the worst. We can discuss this later, Theo, but really you do have to tell him yes. He’ll think you’re not serious about him, otherwise! And then all of this heartache will have been for nothing! When you’re both so happy!”

We can discuss this later sounded a whole lot like I can explain why I’m right later, but Theo shoved down her annoyance, and her panic, and mostly just wished she’d suffered the damn Bénédictine after all. Maybe it would’ve been strong enough to chill her out.

That wish doubled in on itself when she noticed Groves weaving his way through the crowd, and Elizabeth murmured.

“I suppose I’m not the only one who needs to put on a show of not feeling spurned. Although mine may have been rather more truthful.”

Theo said nothing. At this rate, she’d be checking to see if Amelia was stocking vodka.

[fearthetallman]

Based off that one comic

[deadandgonefics]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51031033/chapters/166579363

Before they went their separate ways, they faced each other. Carmy kept his hands in his pockets, tried not to think too much about how they’d both changed. They’d waged battles, dodged bullets. Life itself had been cheap, back then. 

A new chapter update!! I hope you enjoy and please please do give me your thoughts! I'm always down to yap and/or take suggestions! This chapter was very important for moving the plot along and providing some answers. Carmy runs into somebody from his past...

[in-ennui]

Shoutout to the first trans person who was just kinda like "nah, I don't think so"

You beautiful Queen or King or Thing or Thems

[beba3982fdbd]

love

[plotcryptocharts]

$YFI: 7089.84 (0.12%) $YFII: 1016.93 (-61.33%) $MKR: 1984.62 (1.09%) $COMP: 53.31 (-0.83%) $AAVE: 83.83 (-2.95%) $BAL: 3.58 (-0.74%) $DOT: 6.78 (2.12%) $BADGER: 3.11 (-2.45%) $FTT: 1.93 (-16.78%) $UNI: 6.05 (0.72%) $AVAX: 33.78 (0.63%) (2024/02/02 08:05:10)

[darkgreen-universe]

part 2 FTT Promo Comic

i spend way to much time coloring the Entity in these comic.

Part 1

Part 3

Final

[fizztapp]

Played through Mike Bithell's Tron Identity earlier this month. Started playing Tron 2.0 from Monolith for the first time this past weekend. Both have blown me away.

Cleaning up those corners of Tron I haven't touched yet. I think there was a comic published at one point I need to hunt down. The world of Tron really is peak

[esta-elavaris]

Part Thirteen [4,751 words] ~ James Norrington/OC

An AU of my completed, 400k+ word fanfic Catch the Wind [AO3], in which Elizabeth, not James, is the one to discover Theodora Byrne after she crash-lands into the world of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Page breaks by cafekitsune.

Also now on AO3 and FF.net.

Masterpost - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - *Part Thirteen* [you're here!]

Tag list [let me know if you want to be added!]: @teawithshakespeare @missfronkensteen @dancerinthestorm

A/N: At this point, my approach to this fic is “what if POTC was an Austen novel?” and we just need to live with the consequences xoxo

“Is this not a bit much?” Theo asked doubtfully, scrutinising her reflection.

“My dearest darling Theodora, that is the point,” Elizabeth replied simply.

Both of them had already been dressed by the maids, and now they were resorting to a bit of primping as they waited for the appropriate time to head downstairs.

“I’m not opposed to a bit of glam, but this is…you’ve got me looking like Marie Antoinette.”

“Who?”

Whoops. At least making slips like that with Elizabeth wasn’t quite as disastrous as it might’ve been with anybody else.

“An extravagant French queen.”

“The goal was more fierce ancient warrior goddess attends a ball in her free time.”

“You need your head examined.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“I expect you’re rather more affectionate towards our dear captain, to have captivated him so.”

“Ugh.”

“Then again, perhaps it’s the muttered fieriness that has captured his heart so.”

“Ugh.”

“I heard that the first time.”

“And you’ll hear it again, at this rate.”

“Too right, save your charm for its most fervent applicant.”

Theo then unleashed a third, hearty ugh at her friend – but Elizabeth anticipated it and uttered a matching one in unison at the exact same time, and both of them dissolved into very immature laughter. It was much too difficult to get too annoyed at her friend. Mostly because she seemed to delight in it.

Their looks were not quite matching, but certainly themed alongside one another, and it had all started when Theo gave Elizabeth her gift.

Having never been one for big heartfelt emotional gestures, she felt like her insides were eating themselves as she sat with Elizabeth in the drawing room after dinner. It wasn’t like she never did anything nice for people, she wasn’t a feral animal, but…well. The Irish had a way of doing these things. Usually by offering forth whatever the warm gesture was, along with a (loving) insult and a refusal to make a big deal about it after the fact. That, she suspected, wasn’t the way of things here. And to be honest, she didn’t even consider that fact a bad thing – she certainly wouldn’t judge Elizabeth for being warm and sincere, but she just had little idea of how to respond to it. Maybe it wasn’t even just an Irish thing, maybe it was a product of being raised by a guy, amongst guys.

Combined with the time period disparity, she was left with hopelessly little idea of how to be a woman in the expected manner in these parts. Usually, Elizabeth found that equal parts amusing and charming, likely because Theo didn’t eschew traditionally “girly” stuff. She wasn’t about to stamp her feet at the sight of anything pink and frilly. But the fact remained, that she didn’t want this to be amusing or awkward, or whatever else it was she managed to be here. The last thing she wanted was to put a dampener on this.

So, resisting the strong urge to simply chuck necklace into Elizabeth’s lap and call it a day, she cleared her throat and straightened, taking a sip of her wine in an attempt to appear casual.

“So…I have a present for you,” she began.

Elizabeth’s dark eyes lit up with curiosity and excitement both, one eyebrow arching a little. That was fair. Not because Theo was the ungenerous sort, but because she didn’t exactly have a whole lot to be generous with around here, other than her time. And she had that in spades, which made it lose its lustre a bit.

“I know how much you like my necklace,” she said, reaching up to tug at it where it sat between her collarbones, “and I was half-tempted to just give you it, because it’s the only thing I really can offer, with the way things are right here. Y’know, other than my dazzling personality.”

Huffing a laugh at her remark, Elizabeth’s brow furrowed as she shook her head.

“Theo, I could never accept such a gift-”

“Which was why I didn’t try,” she nodded, “Bit of a crap gift if it just makes you feel bad. But…well. I worked my wiles, and I got a bit of advice, and then I found just the right craftsman for the job.”

Something glimmered in her eyes, and Theo knew then that she’d caught the hint of who exactly had been involved in the making of the necklace.

Presenting the pouch, she pinched the drawstrings between her thumb and forefinger, and then offered it to Elizabeth. Finally, she did a passable job at not appearing as awkward as she felt while she watched her open it, tipping the contents out into her palm. That awkwardness disappeared the moment Elizabeth grinned, and was forgotten entirely when she dragged her into a hug that was more tight than she would’ve thought the younger woman capable of.

If there’d been any small doubt in her mind that she was only pretending to like the necklace – which had been a real fear, given the many fine jewels that she had in her jewellery boxes upstairs – it would’ve been erased by Elizabeth’s sunny disposition in the following days. In fact, whenever they encountered others, servants or friends both, she began each conversation with ‘have you seen what Theodora has given me?’ while Theo flushed under the sheer weight of her enthusiasm.

Yes, she’d done well. She’d have to thank Norrington. Although she suspected he’d have the same dislike for accepting profuse thanks that she did, but that might double the fun. Still, Elizabeth had decided that the necklace should be the focal point of her get-up for the men’s going-away dinner, so no doubt he’d see that, and the hand he’d had in it, as thanks enough – at least once he saw her enthusiasm for it.

“I have to wear silver to accentuate my lovely new necklace, so it only makes sense that you wear gold.”

“My necklace also silver, so shouldn’t we both be wearing that colour?”

“Heavens, no. There’s a fine line that separates what we’re doing, and being a couple of strange old spinsters who wear identical garb and speak in tongues.”

“I already do the latter, depending on who you ask.”

“All the more reason not to partake in the former,” Elizabeth teased. “In any case, that is why you shall borrow one of my necklaces tonight.”

She might’ve disliked being dressed up like a doll, were Elizabeth’s tastes not so damn good. That was the thing with Elizabeth, she never tried to dress her up like her. Everything she flung at her managed to have Theo’s own feel to it, and the garments that did not were artfully styled so that they would once the look was complete. And how many modern women ever had a chance like this? It was like being on a period drama set, without the ordeal of having to learn lines. Fibs about her origins aside…and more concerns over potential lead poisoning. But Elizabeth wasn’t one for powdered faces, however much she was determined to induce a powdered wig fetish in Theo.

Her hair had been wrestled into a voluminous updo, with swooping curls defying gravity pinned up at the back, and one lone crimson ringlet left to fall at her collarbone, ending a good few inches above where the neckline of the gown began.

The necklines here took a bit of getting used to. The way the gowns shoved whatever a woman had in the chest department entirely up, and making even one like herself who was rather un-blessed in the chest suddenly appear busty. Sure, she hadn’t been averse to showing off her figure back home, but it turned out she’d thought the Georgians distinctly less free with that kind of thing than they actually were. For a time that she’d gone into thinking of as very buttoned up, she’d quickly realised how wrong she was when Elizabeth had giggled at her (albeit kindly) for asking if putting so much chest on display wasn’t a bit scandalous.  

It turned out she’d arrived a bit early, if she expected people to faint over the notion of a woman having breasts.

And anyway, the gown was gorgeous. Gleaming gold damask that caught the light of any and every candle in the room, making it appear almost liquid rather than just mere fabric. The sleeves ended with ruffles at her elbows, and there was a minimal amount of bows and frills and lace, so there was no worry that she’d feel like she’d be better suited atop a wedding cake than sitting having drinks with her new friends, and…uh…”friends”.

The sad fact of this impending departure that it was taking half of her allies with it, and Elizabeth had proven the only woman around here who was inclined to take a shine to her. Unless they could start dragging the maids along with them to afternoon tea.

Elizabeth’s gown was similar to hers, although not quite an exact replica. It had more of a floral motif, in shades of silver and dotted here and there with pearls. She looked like some sort of wintry queen when all was said and done – although the coldness of the look ended the moment she smiled. As breathtaking as she was, it was a wonder the other women didn’t hate her and not just Theodora. But in their minds, any positive attributes Elizabeth held were likely just expected. They were correct.

In truth, Theo didn’t envy her. When she met expectations, she’d receive little recognition for it. When Theo showed any fine qualities, it was a pleasant surprise to those inclined to like her, and infuriating for those who did not. The former was nice enough, the latter was funny.

Which made Amelia’s impression of a bulldog chewing a wasp while Elizabeth delighted over her gift during the gathering downright hysterical.

Theo couldn’t tell if the brunette knew she could hear her or not. She stood some ways away, speaking in a little circle with Norrington, Lieutenant Groves, and a handful of other ladies, while Theo mingled with those who had not chosen to snub her. That number was growing, she noted, but there was still something about their smiles that disconcerted her. A tenseness, and an analytical look hidden in their eyes, like they were turning over and over every word she spoke to find some hidden meaning.

She wished them luck with it – for while she had her secrets, there’d be no guessing them for any folk here. It was amidst one of Mrs Spencer’s speeches, during which she listed every fish known to man and whether she liked it or not, and which was the best cooking method if she did, that she caught wind of Amelia’s snide comments, floating airily across the room.

“I confess, she could personally hand me the Crown Jewels and it still would give me no notion of what she’s attempting to say when she speaks, more often than not. It seems a strange consolation prize for Miss Swann.”

Theo stifled an eyeroll, for fear that Mrs Spencer would think she was levelling it at her.

“I find Miss Byrne’s manner of speaking charming. It’s clever,” Groves said, visibly uncaring that Amelia very much did not want to hear that.

“In its own way, no doubt,” she replied boredly.

“No, in the true sense of the term.”

A break in Mrs Spencer’s list (during which she debated whether she preferred crab or lobster) allowed Theo to chime in. Mostly because she couldn’t help herself.

“I’m very beautiful, too – talk about that next,” Theo called over, leaving no doubt as to the fact that she’d heard every word.

Groves grinned and then laughed, “What was it you said the other day? About an old colleague of your father’s – a lanky fellow? Built like a…”

“Built like the side of a bank note.”

“Yes! That’s the one. I confess, I’ve been laughing at that ever since you said it.”

Beside him, Norrington’s lips thinned, and he gazed down into his wine glass as if in disapproval.

Was Groves being inappropriate, or did he just disagree with his opinion? Considering she couldn’t much imagine the former, that only left the latter. Didn’t it?

“Well, to your discerning ear, Lieutenant,” she offered a smile and raised her glass.

Groves mirrored the gesture, and even Mrs Spencer gave a trickling laugh and sipped from her own, but Amelia scoffed. And Norrington? Norrington took a long drink from his own glass that seemed to have little to do with the toast. All while not looking at her.

At some point as the night wore on, Theo excused herself to seek the night air. It was a cloudy night, which kept the stifling heat of the day trapped down upon them, and with all of the bodies and the revelry inside, it soon grew stifling. The saving grace – out here, at least – was that it had begun to drizzle. It was refreshing, even if it would work a few questionable waves into her carefully primped hair.

That didn’t bother her, though. Everybody here was even drunker than she was, and those who gave a toss about what her hair looked like were those who already searched for reasons to dislike her. They could crack on. Walking quietly over to a stone bench in the middle of the patio, she sank down upon it and breathed deeply. She’d need to sober up a little before going back in. All right, she wasn’t exactly shit-faced – there’d be no risk of her climbing up onto a table and belting out ABBA’s greatest hits – but she didn’t like to be much beyond mildly tipsy around this lot.

Most of this lot.

It wouldn’t do to grow too comfortable, but she was at least pleased to find that the list of those she didn’t feel like she had to be permanently on her complete and total guard around had grown more than she ever could’ve hoped. Elizabeth had been the first to occupy it. Then Governor Swann, even if she was never destined to be the best of friends with him. Then Groves, and now – most surprisingly, and in the biggest U-turn of all – Captain Norrington.

“I see we both had the same idea.”

Norrington’s voice was distinct and instantly recognisable from where it sounded behind her. Maybe she’s summoned him with her thoughts.

“Would I be imposing if I joined you?” he hedged.

“Not at all,” she offered a smile, “but I haven’t got any books on me for us to discuss, so we’ll need to find another way to play nice.”

He offered a low huff of a laugh. “I’m optimistic about our changes.”

To her relief, his earlier questionable mood seemed a thing of the past. As he spoke, she scooted along to the left side of the bench and he took a seat to her right, uncaring for the raindrops that had gathered atop it.

“Mm. We’re the capable sort, I think,” she replied. “Speaking of, I’d ask you if you’re prepared for tomorrow, but I’m worried you’d take it as an insult.”

“Once, from you, perhaps. But no longer.”

Was she mistaken, or was humour creeping into his tone? He continued before she could dwell on it – and this time, he was definitely teasing her.

“I am well prepared, or else I should not be here. Shall you miss me?” he asked drily.

“Mm. If, on a scale from one to ten, one is being delighted to see the back of you and hoping you never return-”

“I rather regret asking now.”

“Let me finish - and if ten is I won’t eat or sleep ‘til he’s back, I’d give you…a solid…seven.”

“Seven?” he seemed surprised.

“And a half. Maybe even an eight, in your warm and fuzzy moments.”

“I’m not sure I have any warm and fuzzy moments.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re not half as scary as you’d have people think.”

“Scary?” he echoed with a snort. “Did you find me so fearsome when we first met?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“No. Truly.”

When she realised how sincere his question was, she gave it the thought it deserved before answering.

“Okay, scary was the wrong word. Not just because I don’t frighten that easily.”

He chuckled quietly, “I can believe that.”

“But…intimidating, maybe that’s the word. That’s your job, though, isn’t it?”

“And we did not have the most harmonious of introductions.”

“Memorable, though.”

That earned her another laugh.

“Certainly memorable, yes,” he hesitated then for a moment and then finally asked. “I must ask – do I intimidate you now, still?”

“No,” she admitted. “If I’m being honest, and I’m only being honest because of the Governor’s very good, very strong, wine…I’ve never been so happy to be so wrong about a first impression.”

Before they could linger too long on something that was just a touch too close to sincerity – and before she could overthink the way his entire face seemed to soften in response to her words – she pressed on.

“What about you? Do you still think I’m the mad malevolent influence I appeared to be in the beginning?”

“Mad, perhaps,” he teased drily. “But not malevolent.”

“However…?” she sensed the continuation in his tone.

“However,” he conceded, “I do think there is much you are not telling me.”

“Well. Have to save something for my biography.”

He didn’t appear to find that as amusing as she’d hoped.

“Look…anything I’m not telling you…it can’t harm anybody here. Truly. If it would, I’d leave.”

“I believe that. Once I may not have, but I do now.”

“Good.”

“Could it harm you?”

Theo didn’t respond.

“Miss Byrne- Theodora. You can tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters a great deal!”

“I don’t understand how we got here,” she fretted with a tired laugh, “we were just joking on.”

“We were just about to discuss something frankly, for perhaps the first time.”

“For the first time? What are you talking about, we speak all the time. Are you…are you saying you think I’m usually lying?”

“No, I do not, but we have never gotten anywhere before now.”

The words hit some alarming note deep within her.

“Gotten anywhere? What do you mean gotten anywhere? I don’t…”

Theo trailed off. Because she’d been about to say that she didn’t understand, but as her mind worked through the fog of the alcohol, the heat, and the panic, she suddenly found herself understanding all too well.

Whether her dawning realisation showed on her face, or Norrington could simply guess the natural route her thoughts were taking, she didn’t know – but he quickly tried to intercede.

“Theodora, I did not mean-”

“Have you…” the prospect seemed too ridiculous to be true – to voice – and it had her feeling sick to her stomach, but it was all that made sense, and the panic in his widening eyes only seemed to confirm it.

Because James Norrington did not panic.

“Have you only been speaking to me to try to get somewhere?” she asked. “The books, the lunches, the long conversations…has it…has it all been to get me to lower my guard? Have you just been biding your time, the whole time, hoping I might slip up? And…and what? Admit that I’m secretly a pirate? That I’m here to rob everybody and run?”

“Of course not,” he insisted intently, eyes boring into hers as though force of eye contact alone could force her to believe him. “I said I believe you mean no harm, and I spoke truly. I have come to believe that.”

Theo did not respond. Because there was more he wasn’t saying.

“I…I merely hoped that if you came to trust me, that you might…be willing to reveal whatever it is you have not.”

She felt sick. Physically sick. Or like she’d been punched in the chest. Both at once, really. This whole time. This whole time. Every conversation, every book, every lunch, every joke, every smile…it had never been because he’d just wanted to spend time with her, or even wanted to make things right. He’d been playing the long game.

And sure, she hadn’t thought the sudden U-turn had been a miraculous change in his opinion of her. She thought it had started off as a desire to keep Elizabeth happy by being amicable with her friend, but…but that it had morphed into…

God, she was an idiot. Exactly what she thought it had morphed into, or was morphing into, hadn’t been clear to her until now, upon being shown how wrong she was. Christ, she’d watched three very long movies of the guy mooning over Elizabeth, and she’d really thought that a couple of jokes and a fucking sandwich from her would change that? Even a little bit?

How many of their conversations had he endured rather that enjoyed? Listening to her prattle on the same way she listened to Mrs Spencer, waiting either for her to slip up, or shut up, only presence out of duty? Out of protectiveness towards the Swanns?

How stupid could she get?

Several half-baked words of parting flitted through her mind. Some of them were even vaguely clever. But she had neither the heart nor voice to actually say any of them. So instead, she rose to her feet – though she could hardly feel them beneath her.

“Theodora,” he faltered and tried to reach for her hand, but she yanked it back and took her leave.

Amelia was at the piano when she moved inside. That was good. Not just because she was a fantastic player – which she was – but because Theo knew by now that the night would soon draw to a close. A few more would play, the drinks would be finished, and the guests would trickle out.

While there was nothing she wanted to do more than race upstairs, get into her nightgown and hide from the world beneath the covers, she refused to do that. Not just out of pride, but because she felt numb, bereft, and mortified, all in one. And that was paralysing.

The song drew to a close as she walked in and moved to stand at the side of the room, but Amelia’s dark eyes found her the moment she was finished playing.

“Miss Byrne! You next!”

Norrington returned to the room as she spoke, but Theo didn’t look at him.

“I can’t play,” she said.

“Oh, but you must be able to play something. Anything! We aren’t snobs here,” no, just vipers, “we’ll admire a good effort if nothing else.”

“I agree,” Norrington intoned.

If Amelia looked delighted at that, Theo felt the exact opposite – and she saw her own horror reflected in Elizabeth’s reaction, from where she sat by her father.

“I will take a tu-” the blonde’s attempt to rescue her was interceded by her father.

The Governor, deep in his cups by the flush on his face, chuckled and interrupted Elizabeth.

“Come now, Elizabeth, you’ve already played twice. Give Miss Byrne her chance to shine – I’m sure you know something worthwhile, my girl, and none of us here are renowned composers. It is for novelty only, I assure you! You are among friends.”

He wouldn’t have insisted, had Norrington not encouraged Amelia’s spite.

And she couldn’t refuse, could she? Not now that the man who was housing her had bid it. He’d meant no harm, he had no way of knowing about the wound he was in the process of packing salt into, but Theo felt her nausea increase tenfold.

The drizzle outside had set into her hair and set it askew, and what remained of the damp on her skin and dress both quickly warmed in the head of the room until she felt like she was stepping into a sauna. It was suffocating, and only added to her discomfort.

Walking numbly to the piano felt like being trapped in a nightmare – the sort where you turned up to an exam you hadn’t studied for. Naked. She knew some things. Mostly from pissing about on friends’ keyboards, or from music classes in high school – a decade ago. Nothing compared to what people here knew. And nothing well. Chopsticks, the first two seconds of Für Elise, and the song from the sodding Titanic movie.

The final option was the one she knew the most, but that only spoke for how little she knew the others.

Sitting down at the piano, she didn’t meet Elizabeth’s gaze – because she knew the sympathy she’d see there would crack whatever composure she’d plastered on as she left the gardens. It took a bit of plodding to find the first note she was looking for (the ones in her old music classroom had the keys labelled with stickers and/or sharpie, but there was no such help here), and even that drew a muffled snicker from somewhere behind her.

The rest was no better. Halting and awkward, as she hit wrong notes and either had to muddle through it, or pause and find the right key. At first, she thought nothing could be worse than the silence behind her – because she’d never heard such a large crowd be so, so silent. But then another snicker followed. As well as a few coughs, whether from second-hand embarrassment or as an attempt to disguise yet more laughter.

And she didn’t take herself seriously. Anybody who met her knew that. Back home, this wouldn’t be embarrassing at all. Among friends. How many times had she sat in a friend’s bedroom, a joint between her lips as she muddled through Paint It Black, laughing at her own mistakes and leaning into it before handing the instrument to someone who actually knew what they were doing? But she was not among friends here. The conversation she’d just had proved that to her.

It was all she could think of, and it had her wanting to crawl out of her skin.

She ended after the first verse, utterly unable to bear trying to go on (ironic, considering the song choice), and the Governor began to clap. To give him credit, he wasn’t even being an ass.

“A valiant effort, Miss Byrne! A valiant effort!”

A few murmurs joined in, Groves insisting he should go next – no doubt a kind-hearted attempt to make whatever she’d just tried to play look good in comparison. Theo brushed by him, and then took her leave of the room entirely. That meant going by Norrington, but the night couldn’t get any worse anyway. And if she didn’t leave soon, she’d cry in front of everybody. She refused to do that.

She made it as far as the stairs before he caught up to her.

“Theo- Miss Byrne, I did not mean to-”

Whirling, she found he did indeed look horrified. Apparently his victory had not tasted as sweet as he’d thought. Something about that only made it worse.

“Do you realise, Captain, that every time you’re kind to me, it only lasts so long as it takes my guard to drop, and then you’re cruel again? Then you embarrass me, again?” her voice came perilously close to breaking and she took a moment, inhaled deeply and fixed her eyes at some point above his head rather than at him. “So, at what point do I become the idiot for falling for it?”

“I did not-”

“Just leave me alone. That’s all I ask. Leave me be. You’ll be rid of me soon enough.”

She turned and began to ascend the stairs before he could reply, but he – thankfully – made no move to call after her.

James watched Theodora ascend the stairs in the Governor’s mansion feeling positively nauseous with regret. Not only at what had transpired in the gardens, but at how gloriously his half-baked in-the-moment plan had backfired thereafter.

She was out of sight by the time he was aware of Groves’ approach, his lieutenant moving silently to stand by him.

“May I ask you a question from one man to another, and not as a Lieutenant to his superior?” he asked quietly.

“Fine,” James replied flatly.

“…What was your thought process behind that? Back there in the sitting room?”

The question cut more deeply than any admonishment might’ve.  

[fearthetallman]

Based on real interactions with my brother (I am, in fact, the Leo in that scenario)

[lexlawuk]

Christian Candy Wins Stamp Duty Refund Battle Against HMRC Over £68 Million Mansion

Billionaire property developer Christian Candy has emerged victorious in a near decade-long tax dispute against HM Revenue and Customs (HMRC), securing a £2 million stamp duty refund plus £270,000 in lost interest. This high-profile tax battle centred on the purchase of a stunning £68 million Georgian mansion overlooking the River Thames, highlighting the complexities and potential for tax…

[rhk111sblog]

The Philippine Navy (PN) recently restored their Multi-Mission Training Simulator (MMTS) and also acquired a Navigation and Combat Management System (CMS) Simulator at their Fleet Tactical Trainer (FTT) at the Fleet Training and Doctrines Center (FTDC) at the Naval Base Heracleo Alano in Sangley Point, Cavite City.

MY NOTES: Glad to see the PN have their own Simulators also. This is the Way to go, Simulators help the Operators adopt faster to their Workstations, and also help enhance Competence as it enables them to train with various Scenarios and help them prepare them to solve these Scenarios in the Real World.

Here is the Link containing the original Pictures at “The Philippine Fleet” Facebook Page: https://web.facebook.com/ThePhilippineFleet/posts/pfbid05sxSbNT37Y1X6rydFoZdGFkMkoWhhNRMTiZeq7x8agJMZJdd2BVfbAiFSS2vP3Apl

SOURCE: The Philippine Fleet Facebook Page Post, 04/03/25 – 1915H {Archived Link}

[buyprofit]

Банкротство FTX: Реорганизация биржи, компенсация клиентам и рост цены токена FTT

Банкротство FTX: Реорганизация биржи, компенсация клиентам и рост цены токена FTT

Процесс банкротства некогда одной из крупнейших криптобирж FTX выходит на завершающий этап. Как стало известно, план реорганизации, предложенный управляющими, был одобрен и вступит в силу 3 января 2024 года. Основной целью этого плана является предоставление компенсаций клиентам, пострадавшим от колоссального краха биржи в ноябре 2022 года. 

В соответствии с документом, пользователи смогут начать получать выплаты в течение 60 дней после вступления плана в силу. Выплаты будут осуществляться через два ключевых партнера: платформу BitGo и криптобиржу Kraken. Это знаменательное событие для рынка криптовалют, который пережил массовое потрясение после краха FTX.

Токен FTT вырос на фоне новостей о реорганизации

Новости о принятии плана реорганизации вызвали резкое оживление на крипторынке. Токен биржи, FTT, несмотря на почти двухлетнюю процедуру банкротства, продолжает торговаться и неожиданно пр��демонстрировал рост на 30%.  

На первый взгляд, этот всплеск может показаться парадоксальным, учитывая разрушительное влияние банкротства FTX на весь рынок. Однако рост стоимости токена объясняется надеждами инвесторов на частичное восстановление потерянных активов и улучшение условий компенсации.  

FTT остается доступным на платформах вроде Binance, что позволяет трейдерам продолжать торги данным активом. Однако эксперты рекомендуют подходить к подобным инвестициям с осторожностью из-за высокой волатильности и рисков.

Падение FTX: урок для всей криптоиндустрии

Крах FTX стал одной из самых громких историй в мире криптовалют. В ноябре 2022 года биржа, считавшаяся одной из крупнейших и наиболее надежных, оказалась неспособна справляться с обязательствами перед клиентами. Это спровоцировало массовый вывод средств и привело к коллапсу экосистемы биржи.  

Банкротство FTX также вызвало цепную реакцию на рынке, повлияв на курс целого ряда криптовалют. Многие трейдеры терпели убытки, что привело к росту обеспокоенности насчет прозрачности и устойчивости криптокомпаний.

Несмотря на начальные попытки восстановить деятельность биржи, управляющие банкротством окончательно отказались от этих планов в начале 2024 года. Это зафиксировало точку в истории FTX как крупного игрока отрасли.

Юридические последствия: Сэм Бэнкман-Фрид за решеткой

Невозможно говорить о крахе FTX без упоминания ее основателя и бывшего генерального директора Сэма Бэнкмана-Фрида. После долгих разбирательств он был приговорен к 25 годам тюремного заключения за мошенничество и хищение средств клиентов.  

История Бэнкмана-Фрида и его биржи стала уроком для всей криптоиндустрии, подчеркнув важность надежного управления активами, прозрачной отчетности и соблюдения законодательства.  

Судебный процесс над бывшим топ-менеджментом FTX также напомнил инвесторам о важной роли регулирования в мире цифровых активов. Множество пользователей теперь с большим скепсисом относятся к централизованным платформам.

Для клиентов FTX, пострадавших в результате банкротства, важен каждый шаг, приближающий их к получению компенсации. Хотя пока остается неясным, какая сумма будет возвращена, действия управляющих банкротством, а также участие таких крупных платформ, как BitGo и Kraken, внушают некоторый оптимизм.

Форум: https://buy-profit.ru/ ВК: https://vk.com/buyprofitvk Pinterest: https://ru.pinterest.com/BUYPROFITpin/ Телеграмм: https://t.me/buyprofitTg

[fizztapp]

I want buggy games with glitches. Nothing was more fun as a kid than searching up "Brawl glitches" on google and then proceeding to create a giant jigglypuff. No one wants you to waste weeks trying to figure out how to patch out the breakdancing glitch in Kirby Air Ride, it only enhances the experience

when i say 'i want worse graphics', some ppl assume i mean 'i want stylyzed instead of realistic' then get mad at me for saying it wrong (???) so let me be clear:

i want worse graphics. i want the models topology to be a bit off, i want the rigging to have a few verts mis-weighted, i want the final model to not be accurate to the concept art cuz it would have been too labor intensive to make the scarf that long. i want the shading to do the thing where a real time character shadow is casting on top of another baked in shadow. i want whatever eases the devs workload and prevents crunch so they can go home to their loved ones and actually enjoy their life outside of work

and im not kidding