#survivoirs; lucius spriggs

[isrighthand]

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐒   //   @survivoirs​

❛ don’t touch me. get away from me. ❜

" What the fuck? "   It's confused and said in a sort of way that's it clear Izzy is saying it more to himself than to Lucius. Izzy's been wholly startled out of any sort of anger by the fact that what he thought might have been some kind of pest in the walls of the mess has turned out to the be the fuckin' scribe. The scribe who was supposed to be dead. Edward said so.

His first thought is that it's some sort of fuckery on Blackbeard's end. That he'd hidden the scribe and pretended that he was dead. Fuck it, it's a hope. Blackbeard has become violent to a point that Izzy can barely manage. He'd wanted his captain back, he'd wanted Edward back, he'd wanted to go back to the way things were, so he'd gone knocking n the devil's door and sure enough, the devil answered.

But that doesn't make sense. If it was Edward's doing, then Edward would have just dropped him off at one of the many shores they'd been to. No reason for Spriggs to be hiding in the walls like this, no reason for him to be stealing food when Edward could have just asked for it.

None of this makes any fucking sense.

" You - "    Izzy takes a little bit of a step back. He's confident he could kill this scrawny beat-up looking thing with or without his sword if he had to, but better to do so with a balanced footing. Best he can have with his foot so severely damaged, anyway.

. . . Maybe they're on more equal footing than he thought.

" I'm not gonna touch you, you look like you crawled out of a fuckin' sewer. "   Smells that way too, actually.   “ Blackbeard said he killed you. "   

[gentlepyrate]

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒   //   @survivoirs​

He's started spoiling the dear boy a bit. He's earned it, in Stede's opinion, following him around and copying down every event with diligence. He works long hours, and helps out of the ship on top of that. Stede often asks him to help with non-writing things - he acts as Stede's assistant as much as his scribe, these days.

So he purchases pigments. Expensive ones, ones from distant countries, if that's what Lucius wants, or - ! He uses his knowledge of natural things to find and source the pigments himself.

Today, they've brought home a truly ridiculous amount of cherries.

They make for good pigment, and they make for good food, as well. They've already squashed a good portion to prepare it for pigmentation. Both of their fingertips are stained red and Stede's been grinning for so long that his cheeks are sore.

Pigment prepared, they've shifted to casually chatting, laid out on the floor in front of the fire, snacking on the remainder of their haul.

Lucius is terrible, Stede has found, at pitting cherries. Stede's been splitting them all himself for the last half hour. When Lucius attempts to voice what Stede knows will be a snarky comment, the captain pushes a cherry between his lips to silence him, cherry juice dripping down Stede's wrist and staining his sleeve. Likewise, a line of red drips down Lucius chin  and heads towards his collar.

" Hush, "   He says, sounding rather proud of himself. Stede makes no effort to keep his fingers out of Lucius' mouth. He quickly slips them away to replace them with his mouth anyway. Lucius tastes (astonishingly) like cherries. Stede then moves lower to kiss the juice from his chin, then lower yet, to lick it from his throat. He guides Lucius, rather gently, to lay back against the floor so he can have proper access to his throat, shifting to lay sprawl atop him.

" I've made a mess of you, "   Stede hums thoughtfully. Hands stained red, lips stained red, with a dot of cherry juice on his collar. Getting a mischievous glint in his eye, Stede takes the bowl of cherries and carefully tips it straight over Lucius' chest, spilling cherry juice positively all over him.

" Woops, "   Stede says, not sorry at all.   " I'll buy you a new shirt, "   He murmurs, in a slightly more sincere apology, shifting back down to clean up the mess he's made.

[smokedanced]

@survivoirs said: Lucius’ eyes glinted as club lights glided over his face for a moment. He was seated in booth at Jackie’s, watching the crowd when Izzy had walked over. Poor thing seemed nervous. Like he wanted to speak but wasn’t sure how to start it. It was a little quieter here than out on the dance floor but still loud enough nothing they said to each other would be heard by others. "You want to sit, then?" Spriggs offered, grinning softly and patting his hand on the spot next to him.

a thingy we plotted    /    ALWAYS ACCEPTING ↷

Too late to back out.

What does this make him? Saving up to pay the hefty fee to even be allowed to be considered as a customer. Paying money to the club owner so that she could do a background check on him, assess him, deem him safe for the people working under her protection. And if all goes well, paying... for sex.

It’s not that Izzy’s ever had an issue with sex workers; it’s a respectable profession... and he’s wanted to do this the right way, to make sure he’s not exploiting anyone even without the intention to, thus Jackie’s... It’s the customers he finds iffy, and yet here he is, one with that crowd. How sad does that make him, in people’s eyes? In his own eyes? That he has to pay to get fucked because he’s too much of a fucking coward to try to re-enter his old scene in BDSM circles, and doesn’t know how people do it outside of it? Fuck, at least this is still better than trying to date normal people. Perhaps transactional sex is similar to kink, in that way; everyone knows what’s expected of them and everyone’s consent and limits are plain and clear, without guessing games and people trying to make him read between the lines or whatever.

No hidden expectations.

But actually approaching Lucius has made Izzy short-circuit; he’s never felt so tense in his fucking life. Is it weird that he’s so much older? Does he look acceptable, or does it even matter? Izzy knows he’s not... He’s not very tall, and while some might call him nice and bulky, he’d call himself soft and pudgy. And he’s grey. He thinks he’s got a good sense of dress (he’s wearing a dress shirt buttoned all the way up, a black vest, fingerless leather gloves on a whim to accessorise), but that’s about it. It’s not even that he’s bothered by his own looks (most of the time he doesn’t think about such things), but if he got rejected by a sex worker because he’s too ugly, he’s not sure how he’d live that down.

Izzy clears his throat and nods at the invitation, his tension heightening, if possible, as he sits down next to the man he’s come here to meet. A public space for Lucius to decide whether he’ll accept or not; awkward as the entire situation is for Izzy, he does admire the smoothness and security Jackie runs her business with.

❝ You can probably tell I’ve never done this before, ❞    he says, trying so very hard to make light of his awkwardness.    ❝ Would you like a, uh, could I buy you a drink...? ❞    He suppresses the urge to wince. The fuck kind of a question is that? Can I get you drunk so you’ll be more likely to tolerate sleeping with me?

[beastpyrate]

@survivoirs   //   𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒

▄ = telling them a joke

        " That’s not a great joke, man. "   Exceedingly blunt, but true. Ed doesn't even really get it, to be honest, but it's not like Blackbeard to admit he doesn't understand things, so no, it's the joke's fault for being stupid. 

         " Maybe you stick to writing . . . not jokes. Drawing. Keep to your strengths. "   He's fiddling with a little . . . ceramic potted plant, who knows why Stede has this, but the testure is nice and smooth and it's fun to spin around in his hand.

[isrighthand]

@survivoirs​   //  𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒

❛ aren’t we in a good mood today? ❜

" Shut up. "   The sarcasm is annoying on the best of days, but the boy seems to have the ability to show up exactly when it'll annoy him worst. He's doing it on purpose, Izzy knows, and on any other ship he'd get flogged for it, but on this one, he gets the laughter of his crewmates and Izzy gets fuck all.

" Last I checked, you had work to do, Spriggs. "   Izzy knows he does. It's nothing important, because he's long since learned that Lucius finds a way to get out of most tasks, and he wouldn't assign him anything vital or he'd just end up having to do it himself, later. No, he gets the grueling, unimportant tasks, a few have which have piled up since the last time he was avoiding any real work. It's fucking annoying. It's supposed to be a punishment, except he keeps avoiding them, and he's not allowed to do anything worse. He's stuck, and he's loathe to admit it, which is probably the only reason he's letting him talk.

" More importantly, I've got work to do. So if you could fucking move, thanks. "

[gentlepyrate]

𝐂 𝐋 𝐎 𝐒 𝐄 𝐃   𝐒 𝐓 𝐀 𝐑 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑     for     @survivoirs​   //   𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒

[ LACE ]  for one muse to hook their arm around the other’s while they walk.

Stede is chattering along as they walk, of course, but for just this once he doesn't expect Lucius to write it all down - indeed, it's more of a rendezvous for the two pirate-adjacents, a little bonding time, Stede had called it. Really, Stede had attached himself quite thoroughly to the young man straight away, seeing something in him that was worthy of loyalty and trust.

Whereas a little skip ahead in his relationship with another might be noticed, even if a small one, Stede seems to glance right over such things with Lucius as if they are simply meant to be, like he's some sort of soulmate that he was meant to meet, has already known in another life and is simply catching up with.

Lucius slides his arm into Stede's to be escorted - a bold move in polite society, between two men, at least - and Stede does nothing more than shift his arm a bit so that it's more comfortable, bringing his hand over to give Lucius a pat, not even a single drop in the rhythm of his sentence.

" - They bloom in late autumn, pink or white. Beautiful shrub, we had a few at home. Here - "

Stede abruptly stops to reach out towards the tree, plucking a cluster of berries from the branches. He splits it in half, offering a few to Lucius.

" Edible, "   He says, somewhat happily, popping one into his mouth. They aren't the most delicious of berries, tasting somewhat earthy, like rosemary and a general planty sort of taste, with a bit of a bitter aftertaste. Stede likes them for the memories more than the experience.   " For humans and animals. We used to have birds coming to the house every morning to feed. Louis liked to run out and scare them off. "

A little chuckle from Stede - he gets the strange faraway sort of look he does when thinking about his family, inherently confused, wistful, unsure.

[isrighthand]

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐒   //  @survivoirs​​​

❛ do you ever stop being so serious and dull? ❜

" Play your cards right and maybe you’ll find out. “