Ryan-Posting again! ♡
Otherwise Titled: a stressed Orphan and her protective Guardians.
Ryan gets her Found Family .2 seconds after entering the Armada Ship. Subodai watches her back from the start, and his take is basically: That's a child. She's capable, yeah, and a great leader, but she's a child. I'm protecting her with my life. He effectively becomes her Dad. (As well as her First-Mate)
And then, of course, there's Dead Mike. He's like her uncle. He was the one person who didn't ever abandon her or her parents (willingly) and he swore his afterlife to avenge her family, and now to care for her. He's a big softy, and the moment he realized Ryan was still alive, he swore to be there for her till his second death.
And, as it goes, I also love the concept that Ryan is generally pretty harmless-looking when she first starts her adventures. No name for herself, she doesn't speak, and her actions are sneaky so people rarely know it was her who hit them. Until she becomes more infamous, Dead Mike and Subodai act as her big scary goons. They hit hard and w/o hesitation if Ryan orders it.
(Also picturing Ryan ready to tear someone to pieces, but she's already low on health, and Ratbeard or Steele holding Ryan back with Subodai and Mike roll up their sleeves and go demolish the enemy. And/or Armada coming by in a town, and Ryan ducking behind Subodai and clinging to his hand (hoof?) As she uses him as a wall between her fear and herself.)
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Wiztober 2022 Day Three: Exalted
Content warning for violence, piracy, torture, murder, eye trauma, child homelessness, child soldier (kinda?), implied (unhealthy) sex/using sex as self harm, implied slut shaming, swearing, and basically everything else for my boy alexander.
(Prompt List)
Darling Alexander Dove was a man who could easily be described as many things. ‘Easy’ would be one of those adjectives, actually. Other words described him better.
Flamboyant, ruthless, cruel, unhinged, monstrous. Prideful.
Alexander took pride in his appearance, the finest silks dyed in eye-searing pinks and shadowy black, jewelry of pure gold and gemstones that sparkled. He took pride in his skills in battle, slicing through enemies from the darkness, vaulting and rolling through the battlefield as if it were his personal playground. He took pride in his ship, a relic his parents had used in their voyages, restored to its former glory and now flaunting his own flag, a dove with its deceitful olive branch plastered on a field of pink and black.
He even took pride in his crew, the few loyal members he had. His steadfast sister-in-arms Bonnie Anne, the reliable Jack Russel, Subodai who never faltered, Ratbeard who was predictable and dedicated, and even a few more. Others had tried to join his crew and failed, too weak willed or weak stomached to withstand his rule. Others joined and got in the way, and became nothing more than corpses to toss overboard, falling into the void of the skyways.
Alexander rarely took pride in the rank of Captain, especially granted the inevitable ‘pirate’ that preceded it to give context. He had not earned this role, not with bribery or hard work as one would in a military. He had taken it, snatched it from thin air and hid behind it as he once did with his mother’s skirts.
He demanded the title be used out of respect more than anything, to remind his crew that no matter what he owned and ran this ship with a gilded fist.
Even Bonnie Anne who knew him ever since he was just some street rat abandoned and alone in the Skull Island sewers would use his title. She would knock sense to him from time to time, as big sisters tend to do, and only then would she call him Alexander or Dove.
Every skyway in the Spiral knows his name. Captain Darling Alexander Dove, scourge of the skies, that marauding carrion bird of a man who will rip you to shreds while you scream your last breath. A reputation many would spend a lifetime to achieve, and he got it in just five or so years. Now when they dock in a new world the whispers are already there, his reputation precedes him, and merchant ships flee, militaries launch their fleets against his flag, and no one ever underestimates him again.
He is not just a vicious child or a pretty face or an easy fuck.
Captain Darling Alexander Dove is all he wanted to be when he was that scared child. He never has to fear anyone ever again. He can never be forced into anything he does not wish to. Any blood he spills is on his hands alone, of his own volition. He is no one’s chained mutt, a feral guard dog let loose on an enemy.
Even if others look at him as if he still is. Even if Bonnie Anne sometimes looks at him like that, and he has to pretend he doesn’t see it lest he snap and give her something to truly fear. Bonnie Anne is one of the few Alexander refuses to hurt. She would never be scared of him. All it would do is make her pity Alexander, and that would ruin him.
Some of the others do fear him- Ratbeard and Sarah Steele and Jack Russel and Fan Flanders. They are simply in this far too deep, and could not leave the crew alive after years of being complicit in his crimes.
Subodai, for some reason, does not fear him. Alexander cannot understand why he doesn’t, why even at his most deranged, Subodai will stand beside him as stalwart as always and unflinching of his cruelty.
Alexander will use his reputation as another weapon in his arsenal, right next to seduction and daggers.
He never makes empty threats, often following through despite it being disadvantageous merely because it would be funny or prove a point. The easiest way to make Alexander do something unexpected is to say he wouldn’t do it. He lives to defy expectation, refusing to conform to anything, let alone the image one has of him in their head. He is violent and cruel and teasing and gorgeous and monstrous, but if they dare him he will show a moment of mercy simply to see the hope in their eyes before he snuffs out that light.
He toys with victims as a cat would a mouse, uncaring and unknowing of the true extent of their suffering, for he has never suffered such, not physically. No one has dared put him under his own knife, no one has bested him in such a way yet.
One day his rank will mean nothing. His reputation will simply be the intel used against him. The fearful and loyal crewmates alike will stand aside and watch as he is torn down into who he truly is, all finery and facades skinned from his body.
Kane will look down at him and there will be no emotion, no triumph or pity or anger. There is nothing there for the clockworks to feel, and so reputation is nothing to them.
Alexander will relearn old tricks and cower like a beaten dog, barking uselessly only to be struck again. He will quiet once he realizes the helplessness of the situation, how little hope he has of rescue, how hopeless it is to need a rescue in the first place.
He will lose the last remnant of his parents.
He will lose an eye.
And he will lose all respect any of the others had for him, replaced instead with intertwined pity and compassion, a sickening combination.
He will be curled up in agony and so very small for all his twenty-four years of age, blood gushing from his face as his partner picks him up and holds him as easily as one would a child.
He will turn away from his crew, into the empty chest of his clockwork partner, and whine in pain and fear and humiliation.
No one will expect any more of him and that alone ruins Darling Alexander Dove.
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