#having to stay in line while secretly biding your time to try to find a way to defeat the enemy

[carewyncromwell]

Welcome back to the POTC AU! Sorry for the day-long delay -- I was out and away from my computer almost all of yesterday, so I wasn’t able to finish this up until today! XD; But yeah, moving on to the notes...

The information about the Chest and its locking mechanisms, honestly, was all stuff I had to kind of surmise and research, since to my utter shock, there were just about no sources I could find online discussing the process of designing the original Dead Man’s Chest for the Pirates films. There is concept art for it, showing some possible decorative designs for the outside, and there are prop replicas showing the different angles and the inside of the lid -- but there is NO discussion made about the Chest’s construction/locking mechanism or what kind of 18th century or earlier chests may have inspired it. And that kind of blows me away as -- for all of the films’ flaws -- I have to applaud them on taking a lot of historical influences for things, especially in the costume and prop design. I apologize in advance if any of my research on 18th century locks and lock-picking is flawed or incomplete, but I did try my best. XD;

The song “Fifteen Men on a Dead Man’s Chest” was originally featured in the book Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, which was written in the late 1800′s, over a hundred years after the end of the Golden Age of Piracy, but it has since become entwined with the idea of pirates in pop culture, to the extent that it’s also referenced in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, where it’s sung by Joshamee Gibbs and of course it inspired the core concept that the movie is named after. The original song was likely about Blackbeard or a similar pirate marooning a bunch of his crewmates, but I changed the meaning slightly to better fit with this narrative.

This version of Davy Jones, who is in truth an AU!Finn McGarry, belongs to @theguythatdraws Ican’twaittotrydrawinghimsoon, while Juliette “Jules” Farrier-Weasley belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier...and the previous part of this AU is here, while the entire tag is here! Hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Cutler Beckett did turn out to be just as unpleasant as Skye and Orion had suggested. Pretty quickly Carewyn could suss out that this so-called “businessman” had no loyalty to or caring for anyone or anything besides himself and his vested interests, namely his own wealth and status.

Unfortunately Percy was not as quick to catch onto that, presumably because of Beckett’s stated interest in supposedly bringing all pirates to justice and (Carewyn suspected) the fact that Beckett had spoken on Percy’s behalf before he was named a Captain himself. Part of Carewyn wanted to chastise Percy for letting himself be blinded by Beckett’s attempt to manipulate him, but she knew she couldn’t risk doing so. Not only would it make Percy and therefore Beckett suspicious that she was more sympathetic to their enemies (namely, Orion, Bill, and other pirates), but she also didn’t want to come down too hard on Percy. She knew that Percy, being the youngest Weasley brother in the Navy, had a lot to prove, especially considering that his “older brother” (namely, Carewyn) was a well-respected Commodore and war hero. Even his real older brothers had gotten their fair share of glory while they were enlisted in the Navy and now were seen as wanted criminals...so it was little wonder that Percy was determined to stand apart from them, not just as great in his own right, but ultimately better because he didn’t “fall from grace” like they did.

Cutler Beckett stayed at Governor Farrier’s mansion for the next week and visited the fort just about every day in that time. Whenever he was there, he pretty frequently sought Carewyn out, engaging her in conversation and asking her about her experiences fighting the Spanish and in escaping from the crew of the Revenge. Carewyn didn’t enjoy his rather pointed attention, but she hid her discomfort and mistrust as best as she was able. As much as she really found herself disliking the man, she knew that Beckett trying to get to know her better could give her the opportunity to get some information on him too. And ultimately, her polite, charming affect did help her learn a few things.

“From there, it was simply a matter of applying the proper pressure to the cylinder with one of the hat pins, while pushing the pins into the proper alignment with the other,” Carewyn explained. “Once the padlock on my chains was properly unlocked, I was then able to adjust enough to still look like I was locked up, wait for one of the enemy soldiers to enter my cell, and then overpower him so I could take his uniform, weapons, and keys and escape.”

“You truly are quite an escape artist, Commodore,” said Beckett, his eyebrows raising approvingly. “I’m impressed.”

Carewyn offered a casual smile. “Thank you -- but I only learned those things out of necessity, Lord Beckett.”

‘Jacob and I knew we’d both have to know how to pick locks, if we ever had to escape the Revenge’s brig. And even before that, it helped keep Grandfather happy, for us to be able to open chests of loot we didn’t have keys for.’

“It’s not a skill set I like to use if I can help it, considering I’d much prefer to be the one locking others up, not vice-versa.”

“Yes,” said Beckett, “I suppose for one with such a strong moral compass as yours, it would be only natural for you to wish to enforce justice, rather than fight against it.”

“Just as I’d say it’s only natural for a gentleman such as yourself to work toward the protection of our realm and interests -- am I right?”

“Of course,” said Beckett airily. “Someone has to make sure that people get what they pay for and that business remains profitable -- make sure the world turns properly, as it were.”

“A difficult proposition for any one man to do,” said Carewyn lowly, “considering this wild, untamed world we live in.”

Beckett smiled -- unlike Carewyn’s, however, there was no warmth in it at all.

“Fortunately, Commodore, the world we’ve been saddled with will soon be a thing of the past.”

He and Carewyn looked out over the wall of the fort. Down below, at the western dock, several rows of newly arrived red-garbed militia were disembarking from a Man o’ War and marching into Port Royal.

“As the map is filled in, our hold around this world becomes better defined,” said Beckett. “Its treasures are collected, its value assessed...and with that, a new sense of order begins to take hold.”

Carewyn looked down at the Man o’ War, her eyes narrowing slightly. She hadn’t seen such a strong military presence in Port Royal since the War against the Spanish -- and yet, here they were, being used not against foreign countries, but against individual people -- some of them even British citizens. As much as she knew that there were plenty of pirates that weren’t as goodhearted as Orion, it still seemed bizarre to her to unload all this firepower to destroy and kill, as opposed to capturing.

“And hopefully, peace,” said the Commodore softly.

Beckett glanced at Carewyn with a discerning eye. “Indeed. Peace and order do go hand-in-hand, wouldn’t you say?”

‘Not if the order is being instilled by a tyrant,’ she thought, as Charles Cromwell rippled over her mind.

“Definitely,” she lied instead.

Carewyn glanced at Beckett out the side of her eye, before turning her gaze out to the ocean.

���...I only profess as much knowledge to this matter as one can acquire, fighting against the likes of Orion Amari and being in the captivity of a pirate crew like the Revenge’s,” she said in the hardest, least sympathetic voice she could, “but it seems to me that pirates know their existence is unsustainable. Regardless of how renown they are and how much they can terrify merchant sailors, they’re still only men, facing off against Empires and kings. And as the world is plotted out -- as you yourself pointed out, Lord Beckett -- there will soon be less and less havens where such criminals can hide...”

She then looked at Beckett with a cold look in her eye.

“...From the way things stand...it seems to me that it would be in their best interest to stand down while they still can.”

'It would be, if there was any true justice for those who turned themselves in.’

Beckett’s lips spread into a slightly wider, cold smile as he inclined his head in agreement. “Well said. There could always be clemency, for those who embrace that wisdom -- it’s just good business.”

With this conversation, Carewyn had gotten a proper fix on Beckett, and it made her feel more disconcerted. It only got worse when later that week, both she and Percy were summoned into Carewyn’s own office at the fort for a meeting with Beckett. Some might have been offended at the idea of someone coming in and stealing their office just to demand a meeting with the office’s owner, but Carewyn honestly couldn’t make herself care too much about that. She couldn’t help but think that Beckett being so forceful could only be a bad thing, and when she arrived in her office, Percy right behind her dressed in his shiny new Captain’s uniform and powdered white wig, she immediately got the feeling she was right.

Beckett had already made himself very at home in Carewyn’s office. A crystal decanter filled with red wine and several glasses had been laid out and an entire map complete with tiny soldier pieces plotted in different positions covered nearly all of Carewyn’s desk. There was also an even larger map that had been applied to the back wall, which an employee was currently adding more details onto with his paintbrush. Standing in front of Carewyn’s desk across from Beckett was a middle-aged woman with hair as ginger red as Percy and Carewyn’s -- when the two officers first entered the room, her sharp-lidded dark blue eyes ran over both of them, lingering on Carewyn critically.

“Ah,” said Cutler Beckett, his lips spreading into a smile as his eyes narrowed upon Carewyn, “Commodore and Captain Weasley. Good of you to come.”

Carewyn and Percy both saluted.

“Lord Beckett,” Carewyn greeted formally.

She glanced at the older woman out the side of her eye, to find that she was likewise still looking her over with narrowed eyes. Carewyn couldn’t help but look at her suspiciously in return -- Percy had said Beckett had a female associate...and, if Charles Cromwell was to believed, then this woman had to be  --

“Allow me to introduce my associate, Patricia Rakepick,” said Beckett smoothly. “Madam Rakepick -- this is Captain Percy Weasley, and his elder brother, Commodore Carey Weasley.”

Carewyn’s blood ran cold. Being face-to-face with the woman who tried to kill Jacob was like a dose of cold, shuddering poison to her system. It took everything in her to not look at Rakepick with wrathful, vengeful hatred -- instead, she tried to hide the bile she felt by bowing respectfully, her head slightly bowed to obscure her expression.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” she said softly. Somehow her voice came out levelly, despite the rage pulsing through her blood.

Rakepick’s eyes narrowed a bit more on Carewyn’s face.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Commodore,” she said, but she didn’t sound quite so convincing -- she almost immediately turned back to Beckett, looking noticeably impatient, “Lord Beckett, you can’t think that these -- ”

Beckett held up a hand to silence her and turned to the employee working on the map. “One moment -- Mr. Elliot, you may stop there, for today. On your way, now.”

The employee bowed his head respectfully, before descending from his ladder and quickly leaving the office. The door shut with a SNAP behind him.

“Now then,” said Beckett, as he rose to his feet, “Commodore...Captain...I invited you here to request a favor of you. Madam Rakepick has recently uncovered a rather unique and valuable artifact.”

Carewyn’s eyebrows furrowed. Even Percy looked startled.

“What artifact is that, your Lordship?” he asked.

Beckett poured some red wine and offered a glass to Carewyn. She accepted it to be polite, but did not drink it. He then similarly offered a glass to Percy, who took a sip, even if he still looked a bit confused.

“How familiar are you both with the legend of Davy Jones?” asked Beckett.

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The captain of the Flying Dutchman?”

“Well, I’ve...heard the stories, of course,” said Percy, glancing at Carewyn uncertainly. “We both have -- the silly things the soldiers would pass around, at sea...ghost stories, you know...”

Rakepick scoffed, crossing her arms. “‘Ghost stories’ -- and these two are supposed to be sailors? Any sailor worth their salt knows that these things are hardly just stories -- ”

“Madam, please,” Beckett cut her off very coolly, as Percy frowned deeply, clearly offended. “I’m afraid the stories are indeed real. We now have the Chest to prove it.”

He reached under his desk and placed an intricately carved iron treasure chest on top of Carewyn’s desk.

It looked older than anything Carewyn had ever seen, and yet also oddly beautiful -- the inset lock framed by the moon’s phases and stylized flames, and iron tentacles clutched at the lid as if keeping it shut.

Carewyn immediately put down her full wine glass on a side table so as to walk up to the chest, trailing a hand along the heart-shaped lock.

“This is the Dead Man’s Chest?” she whispered.

Percy glanced at Carewyn. “The Dead Man’s Chest? Like in the song?”

Carewyn shook her head. “‘Fifteen Men on a Dead Man’s Chest’ was about this Chest, Perce. It’s said that Jones was so determined that no one know where he buried this treasure chest that he abandoned the entire crew who knew of its existence on that island with nothing but a bottle of rum to sustain them.”

“Leaving them to take the secret of its location to their graves,” said Beckett. He was idly playing with a silver piece of eight in his right hand as he spoke, his eyes resting on Carewyn. “Alas, it seems that the key needed to open the Chest may be in a location we cannot reach -- ”

He shot a cool look at Rakepick, who looked very affronted and opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t before Beckett spoke again.

“ -- so I’d like to ask for your expertise on the matter, Commodore. Can this Chest be opened, without its key?”

Carewyn looked from Beckett to down at the Chest, unable to hide the trepidation completely from her face.

“...I can’t say for sure,” she said slowly. Her mind was working very fast as she regarded Beckett with a cautious look. “Were it an ordinary chest, I daresay it’d be easy enough to find a way to open it...but if there were any kind of curse placed on it or, more importantly, the treasure inside it...it might not be wise to try to break it open.”

“Curse?” repeated Percy disbelievingly. “Carey, you can’t be serious -- ”

“I saw the curse of Isle de Muerta with my own eyes, Percy,” she reminded him sharply. “If the Dead Man’s Chest has such a curse on it, it would not be worth the risk to open it, no matter how valuable its treasure is.”

Percy immediately quieted, looking a bit uncomfortable. Rakepick once again looked Carewyn over with a critical eye, even as she gave another light sniff.

“The treasure inside is not magical, so it would have no chance of hurting us, that is for certain,” said Rakepick dryly. “And from all the evidence I’ve gathered, I found nothing hinting that Finn McGarry -- pardon, Davy Jones -- was particularly adept at curses. All of the abilities he has now were a result of the role bestowed upon him by Calypso, as ferryman of the damned.”

Her face then turned much more serious.

“I will agree with the Commodore on one thing, though: Jones’s Chest will be too strong for the likes of a single man to break open. Look at the lid -- there are dead bolt locks around the entire Chest. The only way we’ll be able to unlock it is if I fetch the key from Jones myself -- ”

“And yet the Commodore thinks it’d be easy enough, to find a way to open the Chest without that key,” said Beckett rather coolly, raising his eyebrows as he once again shifted his gaze to Carewyn. “Commodore -- if you would?”

Carewyn looked from the Dead Man’s Chest to Beckett again, before glancing back at Percy. Percy gave her an encouraging nod, but it didn’t make Carewyn feel any better. She wished beyond reason that Charlie or Bill had been there instead -- they’d understand why she was so hesitant to help someone like Cutler Beckett.

But at the same time...she couldn’t refuse. She was put in the position that she had to open the Chest, if she wanted to stay on Beckett’s good side and keep the position that allowed her to protect Bill, Jules, Charlie, Jacob, and Orion. Even if she did refuse to open the Chest, then Beckett would no doubt find someone else who would...and would also likely not trust Carewyn enough to let her overhear any more information that could help her protect the others.

'If the treasure inside isn’t cursed, then there isn’t much reason to refuse,’ she thought grimly. ‘And lining Beckett’s pockets with a bit more gold would only help me help the others that bit more, by earning his trust.’

And so, swallowing back the ball of fear in her throat, Carewyn started looking over the Chest. She turned it around a few times, examining the hinges and the dead-bolts lining the base of the lid.

“What do you think, Carey?” asked Percy anxiously.

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed upon the Chest as she ran a hand over the top and pushed down on each of the iron tentacles one at a time.

“Its construction most resembles an armada chest -- some of the Spanish captains used them to hold their valuables during the War, and I’ve seen some pirates use them too, to hold their loot,” she murmured to him, though she could feel Rakepick hovering over her other shoulder as she worked. “On armada chests, the locking mechanism is actually built into the inside of the lid -- that explains the dead bolts around the edges. It also would prevent you from just unscrewing the hinges on the back of the chest and opening it from the back, like you can on a lot of wooden chests. But armada chests usually have a false keyhole on the front, with the real keyhole being hidden under a flap on the lid. This one does not. Judging by the construction of the keyhole, there looks to be a double cylinder design -- one that requires pressure on both sides of the keyhole, as well as the pins inside both cylinders to be in the proper position...”

She looked up at Beckett.

“...It’s easily the most complicated locking system I’ve ever seen on any chest,” she said grimly.

“Can you open it?” asked Beckett.

Carewyn steadied her jaw, her face blanching slightly as she inclined her head in a short nod.

“I think so.”

Beckett got Carewyn the tools she needed. Due to the two-sided nature of the keyhole, she enlisted Percy to help her -- he had far less experience with opening locks, but he followed Carewyn’s directions as closely as he could.

After almost an hour, there was a loud, booming CLICK as all twelve of the dead bolts around the lid popped out and the lid opened a crack, letting off a small gasp of dust.

“You did it!” said Rakepick.

Despite the seriousness of her expression, there was a slight echo of excitement and awe at the back of her voice. She was clearly impressed.

Carewyn stared at the slightly open Chest. Her heart was slamming up against her rib cage anxiously.

Nothing had happened, when she’d opened it -- so had the Chest not been cursed, after all? That was a relief. And Rakepick had said the treasure inside wasn’t cursed, so...

Tentatively Carewyn reached out a hand and slowly eased the lid open.

When she saw what was inside, though, she couldn’t hold back a sharp intake of breath.

The Dead Man’s Chest was devoid of any of the gold or jewels she’d envisioned. Instead, all it held was a slimy, reddish, pulsing, thumping thing about the side of a coconut.

It was a human heart, still beating lowly despite no blood rushing through it.

Percy squeezed Carewyn’s shoulder as he looked down at it too, visibly taken aback.

“Is...that...?”

“The heart of Davy Jones,” finished Rakepick darkly, “first cut out when he was named captain of the Flying Dutchman -- for the Dutchman must always have a captain who’s left his heart behind in the world of the living. Only then can he truly be a subjective judge of the dead and dying at sea...and thus the souls of the damned will not haunt the seas and terrorize all those who sail it.”

Carewyn’s eyes were very wide. ‘Then...the treasure Jones locked away was his own heart?’

Rakepick’s dark blue eyes flickered down to the heart rather pitilessly.

“Not that Jones hasn’t done a fine job of terrorizing those who sail those seas all on his own, over the years,” she added very dryly.

“All the more reason for us to bring Jones into our enterprise.”

Beckett rose from his desk again. Taking a sip from his own glass of red wine, he came around to purposefully take a step between Percy and Carewyn and look down at the heart himself. His lips curled up in a dark smile as he reached out a hand and picked up the heart to get a better look at it.

“Whoever controls the heart of Davy Jones...controls the sea,” said Beckett.

He gave it a rather tight squeeze. Carewyn couldn’t stop herself from flinching.

‘If that thing is still beating,’ she couldn’t help but think, ‘then does that mean that it’s the only thing keeping Davy Jones alive? If so...’

She felt like her own chest was being squeezed.

‘...Beckett’s holding Davy Jones’s life in the palm of his hand.’

For all of the terrifying stories Carewyn had heard about Davy Jones over the years, both on the Revenge and in the Navy, she found herself feeling nothing but righteous anger and pain at this thought. What a disgusting, terrible thing to do to anyone -- no matter how awful a person they were...

There was a loud splash outside the window of Carewyn’s office.

Carewyn, Percy, Rakepick, and Beckett all looked up, to see a giant, terrifying ship erupting out of the waves just outside the fort. It was a sickly gray with torn sails and a bow cut into a set of massive, jagged jaws like a crocodile.

“The Flying Dutchman,” breathed Carewyn, hardly daring to believe it.

Beckett’s smile broadened, actually showing some teeth. “A rather fine addition to the fleet -- especially considering that it can go just about anywhere and travel in record time...”

Rakepick turned to Beckett sharply.

“If that’s the case, the first thing we should do is have him hunt down Black Jack Roberts. I know he made a deal with Jones -- he’ll have a way to track him down and kill him once and for all -- ”

Carewyn’s heart spasmed in horror, but fortunately no one else in the room noticed the fear flashing through her face.

“Didn’t you say you already destroyed the Tower Raven?” said Beckett coolly. “One can hardly see a pirate with no ship as a real threat.”

“Don’t underestimate Black Jack Roberts,” said Rakepick lowly. “By all accounts, he should’ve died, and he would have, if he hadn’t somehow managed to recruit a merman to his crew -- ”

Percy sputtered in disbelief. “‘Merman’ -- you mean, like mermaids? Those are real too?”

“Afraid so,” said Carewyn.

Her mind and heart were both racing, but she tried desperately to keep her cool. She couldn’t let them go after Jacob...or Duncan, either, if he was the merman who’d helped him like she suspected. Now that she knew the true power Beckett now had, thanks to her opening that Chest for him, she couldn’t stand by and let him use it to hurt her brother --

“...I can’t say I know much about Black Jack Roberts, aside from him being captain of the Tower Raven...” she said slowly, “...but it seems to me that attacking one man would be a poor way to use the weapon we’ve acquired.”

All three of the others looked at her. Beckett raised his eyebrows in keen interest.

“And what would you say would be a better way to use it, Commodore?” he asked, sounding intrigued.

Carewyn’s eyes drifted away from the others as she walked up to the window of her office and looked out, her arms crossed behind her back as she went. She tried to keep her face as stoic as possible, even with how scared she truly felt.

‘In order to pass up the chance to hunt down and kill one of the most wanted pirates in the world,’ she thought, ‘I have to offer an even more enticing option...’

The idea forming in her mind made her feel ill.

‘It’s been over two weeks since I saw Jules, Bill, and Charlie,’ she thought very quickly. ‘That’s more than enough time to have made the repairs to the Revolution and get some new crew members, especially if Orion and the crew of the Artemis is helping them. And...whether they’re just leaving or have already left...this way, they’ll know the true extent of the danger. All pirates will know what the Navy’s new weapon is...and can prepare for it.’

She closed her eyes solemnly.

“...I say we send a message to all pirates -- one that makes them tremble in their boots, the way they’ve made merchant sailors tremble at the sight of their black flags...by attacking them where they’ve always felt most safe. By arresting them somewhere they all gather together, in one place.”

She opened her eyes again, her gaze blazing as she turned back to Beckett.

“I say...we sack Tortuga.”

[wichols]

Rain and Confessions

@sammy-moo​ and @falling-pages​ you both requested something utterly heartbreaking and I am both here and not here for it! How you gonna do my OTP like this!?! I am not liable for whatever feels you experience while reading.

Pairing- Kyoya x Haruhi

Prompt- “And yet, you’re still not enough.” 

Word Count- 1,662

Kyoya had decided to stay an extra week in America to help her pack and prepare to move back to Japan to begin studying for the bar. After setting down another full box he silently watched her across the room as she organized a box in the kitchen. “Care to go for a walk?” “Sure but its still raining outside. Don’t want you to melt from the wet.” “At this rate, we will finish tonight and still have two days left before our flights. Plus, when are we ever going to be here again like this?” Glancing around the room, her boxes lined the walls, neatly organized by importance. “Ok, fine. You’ve convinced me.” Peering around the corner she dug out their raincoats for the closet and slipped on their shoes to brave the light rain.

“Anywhere, in particular, you would like to walk?” He questioned looking up and down the empty street. Pointing away from the row of buildings she gestured to the left. “If we go this way there is a nice park near campus that I like to visit.” With a broad sweeping gesture, he motioned her to take the lead. “After you.” He smiled, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. His fingers rubbed softly against the small velvet box secretly tucked away. Making his heart begin to jump and sputter much to his dismay. They walked silently side by side listening to the rain drop unceremoniously to the ground. “I think I am going to miss this.” Haruhi mussed, keeping her steady pace. His eyes sneaking quick glances at his companion. Behind his glasses, he has watched her world morph and change. “This has been the place you have spent much of your time. You were bound to get attached. Though it is nothing like home.” She was no longer the oblivious blunt girl she was in high school but now an observant, headstrong, law school graduate. “This might not be where I was raised but it has become a home. The feeling of home is less about the physical place but the memories your heart holds onto. I have grown so much in this place I contemplated staying for a while.” She smirked. “But we both know that Tamaki would never let that slide. I am sure once I get back Japan will feel like home again too.” Turning the corner he watched as her eyes lit up with excitement at the lush greenery surrounded by red brick buildings. Though he would never understand the appeal of Boston his eyes were set on a different goal. A long-awaited accomplishment to add to his list. It didn’t matter what happened to his life, he was bound and determined to have her face light up like that for the rest of her life. “Care to walk through or are we just going to look at it?” “Walking through. My favorite times to come here are right after it rains. It makes everything smell like new beginnings.” Her eyes held their dreamy wonder as they approached the opening of the park. Kyoya’s heart swelled as they continued their walk through the flourishing greenery. New beginnings are exactly what he wanted. Haruhi would be back in Japan and they could begin planning the rest of their lives together. His hand fidgeting nervously around the box as they approached a low hanging branch. Reaching out quicking he grabbed the crook of Haruhi’s elbow stopping her under the small sanctuary of the tree. “Kyoya? What’s wrong?” She asked, cocking her head in confusion. Sliding his hand down to hers he clutched it lightly as he settled down onto one knee. “Haruhi, I know that I am not the easiest person to get along with and for that, I want to thank you. It has been a joy and a pleasure watching you work hard to achieve and surpass your goals. You are an extraordinary woman and I would be remiss to not want to be beside you while you rise to new heights. I want each day of your life to be better than the next and not only that, do I want to play a role in that. I want to be the person you create new beginnings with. I want to be the person to comfort you and stand beside you. Will you do me the honor and privilege of becoming my wife?” Momentarily letting go of her hand, he fumbled the small box out of his pocket revealing the dainty ring nestled in velvet and satin. Haruhi’s eyes were blown wide with shock. Her eyes flicked between the ring and Kyoya’s steady gaze. “What?” Chuckling he let out a small sigh. “ Marry me Haruhi?” A pregnant pause lingered between them. “No.” Her voice stuttered breathlessly. “What?” Feeling his stomach drop he looked at her pleadingly. “I can’t.” Steading himself back on to two feet he watched as she took a tentative step back. “Why not?” “I just can’t.” She repeated. “You said that already. I was more so looking for an actual reason.” Snapping the box closed he placed the ring back into his pocket. Stepping cautiously towards her, he found his hands reaching out for hers. “I don’t want to be with you because of your money or your status.” She tried to come up with some reason to appease Kyoya. “Then don’t be with me for those reasons. Be with me because of the connection we have between us, for the love I hold for you. I never thought I would be able to be with someone of my choosing. Someone who not only kept up with me but threatened to surpass both my expectations for them but also the expectations that I hold for myself. Be with me for any reason of your choosing but all I ask is that you be with me.” He could feel his walls begin to crumble. “I am not one for begging but please be with me?” “I’m sorry.” She whispered as her tears mimicked the ever-present rain falling around them. Kyoya was feeling even more desperate, he never expected her to say no. “I can give you anything and everything you could ever want. My name alone has cleared a path for any position in any law firm that you could ever possibly dream of being a part of. I have placed my life on hold for years while watching you reach towards your dreams. I have sacrificed more than anyone else around you to make you happy!” He felt his jaw clench and unclench trying to regain some composure. “But I never asked you too.” Her eyes never wavering. Watching him silently as his world crashed around him. “You might not have but they are all things I did for you. It is because of you that I am who I am at this very moment. Against all suggested advice I have carried on, biding my time, and clearing a way for you to succeed. There is nothing more that I could ask than to be by your side while you bring justice to those who need it most.” “This is bigger than the two of us.” Her lip quivered as she dropped her eyes to stare at the ground. “What more could I do to be with you? Tell me what you need and I will do it. Tell me to change for you and I will. I will become whoever you need me to be. No matter the monetary cost or personal sacrifice. If you ask me for more I will give you more.” His weak voice grating against his soul. “You say all these things expecting me to change my mind. I know you do not say these things lightly nor do you say these things without the personal expectations to do whatever it takes to accomplish those goals. Even after your declaration of love to me, you still missed what I said. You are so caught up in your goals and the situations that you control that you want that you become blind to others. You offer me everything. You place me on an unrealistically high pedestal that I will neither be able to stay upon forever or safely get done from without you. I understand that if I am to be with you that I will never have to struggle. That my whole life, all the things I have done, becomes null by taking your last name. No matter what happens. Being with you is not feasible. In the eyes of those around us you are still the Shadow King capable of anything. And yet, you’re still not enough.” His heart twisted and stalled as his mind played over her words. And yet, you’re still not enough. “How is it that I offer you everything and even still you are not satisfied with my proposal?” “Because you are asking me for the impossible.” Twisting her hands together, she watched his face shift from frustration to confusion. “You are asking me to change you. To morph you into someone unrecognizable form your true self. I cannot ask you to give up everything for me. You cannot change your status or your ambition. You say that you will do all these things out of your love for me but it is because of my love for you that I cannot accept your offer because you become less of who you are and more of  the person you think I need. I don’t need your money or your prestige to be successful. I want to be seen for my own abilities not by my last name and for that there is nothing you could do or say to be enough for me because you will never not be Kyoya Ootori.”

He listened as her footsteps and light sniffles faded into the cadence of the falling rain. And yet I still want to be enough for you. You can find more of my stories on AO3 or FF.Net.

[twelvesignsrp]

congratulations logan, capricorn is now luca yamada with the faceclaim ryan potter ! 

Character Sign: Capricorn

Character name: Luca Yamada Birthday: January 19th Sexuality: Fluid Gender: Cis-Male Moon Sign: Aquarius Faceclaim: Ryan Potter Power:

MATTER ABSORPTION; The user can absorb matter, while removing it from the source, into their body and use it in various ways, gaining some form of advantage, either by enhancing themselves, gaining the drained power, using it as power source etc., either temporarily or permanently.

   Luca’s ability is complete earth based, meaning he can’t absorb matter that isn’t naturally made or largely complied of earth base compotents. Items like clay, stone, metal, sand, and even gemstone can be taken from and used. How it’s used? Think of it like a layer of armor, in some ways, as Luca can absorb the chemical or atomic makeup of a substance—it’s matter—then reincorporate that matter into his own genetic makeup. Basically his skin and to some point his muscles or organs completely shift into the matter he absorbs. Whether that’s taking in a concrete wall creating his arms to be as heavy and dense as stone or absorbing metal railing, to coat his knuckles to be as strong as steel. His ability doesn’t give him abnormal strength, endurance, or durability—but depending on the composition of the matter he takes does change him. Imagine you punching someone’s face and then imagine punch a stone face…the matter is what makes him “stronger” but he’s still human, and has his limitations.

LIMITATIONS; Firstly proximity is needed, via touch. Luca can not mentally or psychically absrob matter. Like the element of earth it is person and physical. Luca’s limitations grows via  science. Magic might be able to bend many rules in the world but never can absolutely break them. The porpotion to which the material Luca is absorbing is equally porpotion to how much he can collectively transform his body. If he absorbs a pebble or a stone the size of a brick, he can only spread that to about the size of his forearm or less… Walls, metal railings, or solid desk leave him more than enough material he let his body manifest into the element he’s absorbing. Secondly, as his powers grow stronger, Luca can have a slight chance of destroying the material he’s syphoning. Taking an objects matter is one thing, but if he takes too much he can destroy the integrity of it. As most stone objects, like rocks or bricks, have chances of disintegrating. So far most walls or metal objects don’t fully break down but might be structially more weak or it way rust. Lastly his limitations are that he’s still human, not inhuman. Luca can still feel the weight of his ability, almost as if he’s lifting weights. He must train himself physically and must work hard to withstand the physical demands of his ability. He might be able to take more hits, be denser or stronger, but that all fades once the matter does too.

SUB POWER, FERROKINESIS; Shape and manipulate metal, a solid material (an element, compound, or alloy) that is typically hard, shiny, and features good electrical and thermal conductivity. Metals are generally malleable—they can be hammered or pressed permanently out of shape without breaking or cracking—as well as fusible (able to be fused or melted) and ductile (able to be drawn out into a thin wire

Since Luca has absorbed large amounts of metals ranging from steel, iron, alluminum, and copper—when his power boost came into effect, his body developed what they know best. Metals. Luca is able to shape or manipulate metals, never create them from thin air. His ability is also weaker than if it was a main gift, as he often can only dismantle, twist, or destroy metal than truly shape it to much. His ability is normally heightened if he has recently absorbed metals or alloys.

LIMITATION; Luca’s limitations are practice and understanding. Chemistry was never Luca’s first choise, so understanding the softness of metals and their strengths and weaknesses have been a learning curve. If he tries to manipulate or form metal too sharply or outside of it’s scientific properties it can shatter or grow weaker than he’d want. As a weaker manipulation, he isn’t able to mess with heavy ammounts or large pieces of metals, much like his brain is too weak to mentally lift such a mass. Emotions can help him push pass that but as of now, he is limited to the largest thig he’s manipulating being a street lamp.

What do they study: Criminology

Biography:

self-con·trol

   You were precision in perfection, a graceful force biding your time. As a child your chaos was order; neatly stacking your toys in the spaces they held, to coloring in the lines—dazzling your parent’s with your “skills”. However those skills or talents they’d dote on you for, felt nothing but natural. You like having a plan, a goal to reap pride and glory from. Your bones were etched with method and reason, your muscles woven with patience that rivaled most your age; truly you aged faster than others. By ten your ballet shoes would be trade for kickboxing ones—as the control that ballet offered grew boring. The older you got, that graceful force churned and brewed needing an outlet that wasn’t just lines and beauty. No, your hands ached with a soreness you indulged in. You were learning to become a soldier of your own pursuits.

re·spon·si·ble

    Time moved on and your maturity produced your most remarkable trait. Your sense of duty. Martial arts only were steps to your goal, learning to protect yourself but a seed of virtue would bloom into protecting others. You, like all sixteen year olds, played your hand against Fate—tempting the laws of the world and breaking what you could, yet you never treaded too far across the line. You had patience for the things that so many around you eagerly wanted. You were a catious driver, a conservative when you partied, and above all else a studious boy. Your parents goals for you were lofty, but you worked towards them. Your dreams would stay on the back burner, as they would speak of being a doctor or becoming a lawyer…you held your tongue. Being dutiful to them meant everything, but you wanted nothing more than to be the opposite. For your heart was that of a lion, big and bold, beating to a rhythm of one thing; to become an officer.

pes·si·mis·tic

   Graduation had came, you walked the stage with your canary colored sash, being first and the best among your peers. However you found a part of you that you never expected. Doubt and fear, a trait you fought hard against with grit and horns. You pushed past a lot; your sexuality, your parents plan for you, physical struggles, test, college acceptances…etc. You should feel the weight you are feeling before you fly off to Durham. You’ve made it, you are pursuing your dreams, you are free from your past—yet with your future open to so much your doubt festers a colder side of you. Judgement and sharp words become your mask you slip on with ease, while your eyes hide a mind that is softer than you know. You never forgot your virtue, to uphold and protect the law and it’s people, yet you forgot how to be yourself. More comfortable to be hardhead than vunerable.

stub·born

   It’s been years and your life was on a track to success; everything you’ve wanted. However Fate is a fickle bitch, and you’ve found yourself butting heads and grinding your teeth for over a year now. Your life has shifted, to a plane or reality that has no control or understanding. That irks you. Your dreams are being put on pause, your finish line was so close but you and eleven others are being hijacked to something else. Part of you wants to run, to fight another day, to return to your life…yet deeper than that, a part of you that wants to serve and to be apart of something bigger keeps you there. Even if you rather not corroborate and feeling like you are being dragged along instead of leading it. You are here, you are now a witch, you are apart of something larger than the law.

Patrouns: Luca’s patronus would be that of a Heron, white with black tipped wings. Herons represent wild determination and inteligence. The grace of these birds are known for their adaptablity and diversity, since they tread between three elements—that of water, earth, and air. They are crafty creatures, fidning new ways to hunt and survive which for me describes Luca. His whole life has been polishing himself to be better, pressure and focus he puts on himself to hopefully be able to withstand it and become a diamond in the end. Not to mention his mother has a traditional Japanese painting that has a Heron in it; which Luca grew up loving and appreciating more and more.

Five interesting facts about your character:

Luca is tri-lingual knowning Japanese, English, and French. Most people find it surprising that he knows French as he’s American and attending a British school but his aunt is from Bordeuax, France—which he visited often as a child.

Luca is trained in martial arts, almost 11 years in Judo and Taekwondo. He doesn’t brag about how good he is, saying he does it to stay in shape and is just a agression reliever but really he is good. At seventeen he was nationally ranked in the top five, and a small ranking around the world. His coach thought he could work into trying out for the Olympics but Luca was more focus on college to do that.

Is secretly an HGTV lover and is a big fan of Property Brothers. He just loves watching people decorate and creating a space, which reflects as his apartment is very true to him and his aestehtic.

Most people are shocked to learn that Luca hates sushi, even most fish. His mother being more dissapointed about that, but still loves other Japanese dishes and is a bigger fan of rolled omlettes than anything. He still fakes liking it when his dates taking him to sushi places, just to be polite.

Luca owns a pet Husky named Opus, that is just 3 years old. The little guy (who isn’t that small anymore) is Luca’s pride and joy. They two are a perfect match between master and friend, as Opus is as loyal and trained as Luca is particular and ridged. He often shows Opus off by letting him perform tricks like getting him a soda or letting him open his bedroom dorm for him.

Character Quote: “Just because you are soft doesn’t mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the color gold.”

WRITING SAMPLE

    Have you ever have déjà vu? That overwhelming feeling of familiarity; well think of that times ten and add a wicked head high to it and you can imagine Luca’s reaction to watching the scene in front of him ‘return’ to normal. His eyes flickered images of predictions, rapidly fliping ontop of one another like a frame by frame photo—like if stop animation had become his state. He watched a women that was about to drop her bag, drop it four different ways, each trailing like a streak of light with how the apples would fall (which was 80% more likely to fall over into the road than not). His brain felt short circuited, shaking his head. Each person or thing, whatever was in movement, spliced into several things…several decisions being produced. Watching birds fly to three different points on a tree, to seeing a car stop infront of an oblivious teen girl to then watching the chances of it hitting her too all in the matter of moments.

   He moved out from the street and into a little vintage shop, hoping to gain clarity and solitude for a moment. His head felt less dizzy after he rubbed his eyes a few times, wondering if he was drugged or not. It wasn’t until the clerk asked him if he needed help, which he swiftly dismissed with a shake of his head and off to a rack to breath. “What the fuck?” he thought, before wondering what had happened. He’d spend several hours after that wondering more and more, but simultaneously worried about why it felt so comfortable too. It didn’t feel like a drug, like a blanket you borrowed from a friend to use—it felt apart of him, like he spend days and weeks making a blanket only to use it intimately.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Favorite colour is probably slate but recently I’ve been digging forest green a ton.

Also more so I’ve missed you all and this RP a ton, and stoked that I have the time now to devote to it than I did last summer. I have my own computer, myown place, and a better work schedule (even if I’m still gonna travel more and camp more)