COWBOY CARTER : @immobiliter ( Daniel ) For Louis Let Me Make Myself Clear.

🪐 — COWBOY CARTER : @immobiliter ( daniel ) for louis ▶ ❝ let me make myself clear. ❞

THIS WASN'T HOW the interview was supposed to go. there had been a plan in place — call the boy ( who was no longer a boy ) out to dubai for a second attempt, & do it right this time. make sure that he told only the story that louis wanted told. that was what he & armand had discussed ; it was why they had together carefully curated which materials daniel would have access to & which he wouldn't. it was one of the conditions of louis doing this at all. but now daniel wasn't following the script, & the timeline had begun to splinter & break wherever he touched it.

❝ you don't make things clear. you never make things clear. in fact, you seem to revel in doing the exact opposite. ❞ his voice was harsh, & even he could hear how petulant it sounded, like a child caught in a lie. but wasn't this what louis had wanted : to remember ? wasn't this why he had needed daniel instead of someone younger, someone new, to write his story ? ❝ i don't know, ok ? so stop asking. why does it matter if it was raining or not ? ❞

also i finished reading the vampire l*stat the day before yesterday, which was some excellent timing on my part if i do say so myself.

🪐 — OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH : @baldursgoons ( aurora ) for birdie ▶ ❝ we’re friends. friends tell each other these kind of things. ❞

IT'S BEEN AWHILE since birdie has had a real friend, & she pauses in her work at mending a heavy winter cloak to look up at aurora in surprise. ❝ oh. they do ? ❞ of course, birdie considers almost everyone to be her friend, even those she hasn't met yet. but it's hard to keep friends when you don't stay in one place for very long, & birdie tends to wander on her own more often than not. so to hear the assertion being directed at her brings a broad smile to her face, her pale feathered wings giving a giddy flutter. ❝ i didn't know. i guess i've never had one stick around for long enough to ask. ❞

she hesitates, but aurora seems genuinely curious. & though birdie hasn't had anyone ask for awhile, the story hasn't faded from her memory. her eyes drop to her stitching as she begins. ❝ my father was a mortal — i never met my mother, but he thought her an angel when they first met, on account of her wings. he said they were so great they could almost touch the ground. when she left him, she left me, too. i didn't have my wings when i was a baby, so i guess she thought i was a mortal, & that i should be with my own kind. but when they came in ... ❞ she pauses, glancing back up to catch aurora's eyes, her wings settling close against her back. ❝ my father didn't enjoy having the reminder of her. so i left. i've been on my own ever since. ❞ & birdie smiles then, shrugging. it isn't a sad story ; not to her. after all, it ends with her being set free.

❝ & you ? what of your family ? ❞

🪐 — BLACK SAILS : @azmenka for asha ▶ ❝ The thought of losing you… ❞

❝ DON'T. ❞ she cuts maron off before he can complete the thought, giving a sharp shake of her head. ❝ don't even think of it. i'm fine. i told you, it's barely a scratch. ❞ but the dark splotch on her tunic undercuts her reassurances, a hand-sized patch of drying blood betraying the wound beneath. still, asha knows without looking that it's nothing she can't heal from. she can still breathe in, stand, bend, & turn, all without agony, so she's confident that nothing critical was pierced by the lucky greenlander's spear — it's likely more of a scrape than anything.

maron still looks worried, his face white as he reaches for her as if to check for himself. but asha swats his hand away. his concern is touching, but unwarranted. & besides, their men are still watching — any sign of weakness must be saved for later, when they are alone. ❝ do you remember the time back when we were children doing the finger dance & you nearly took my head off ? ❞ & she smirks, tossing her loose hair back so that he can see the scar on the side of her throat before nudging him affectionately with her elbow. ❝ you came closer to killing me than any greenlander ever has. ❞

IT'S HARD TO BELIEVE that this is the same room that had served as a kind of combination prison-slash-torture-chamber for he & ed over those horrible months. in fact, the little nook where they are lounging together now is almost exactly where izzy had lay when his captain had ordered his toes removed, one-by-one. but ed doesn't live here any longer — he's ashore, with stede, where he wants to be — & izzy has a new captain now. & frenchie ( along with wee john & the rest of the crew ) had clearly worked some kind of magic to exorcise the demons from the ship. now, sunlight pools on the floorboards where shadows used to linger. candles burn in every lamp & all the knives & splintered furniture have been removed in favor of more comfortable seating. soon, they will add more color, fill the walls with art again. soon, it will look like an entirely different space.

& he's never before been accused of being an optimist, but izzy only shrugs at it now, softened by the term of endearment frenchie bestows on him. ❝ i don't know, ❞ he admits. ❝ maybe it's the music, or the calm day. maybe it's you. ❞ it's gentle ; far more gentle than he's used to being. he would never say such a thing if there were anyone else around to hear, but there isn't. & even in the midst of the storm, in the arms of the kraken, frenchie has always kept izzy safe. ❝ you want to hear me sing, then you'll have to play something i know. ❞

THE SOFT MELODY WASHED OVER THE CABIN cleansing it of the dark aura which had lingered for so long, well, that and the candles Wee John had lit. "Keep talking like that and people might take you for an optimist." His words blended into the final notes of the song and judging by the look on Izzy's face he hadn't distinguished one from the other.

"Oi, mon rayon de soleil," Frenchie gave Izzy's good leg a gentle poke with his foot, "what's brought this on? You're away with the faeries today." And he wasn't the only one. Frenchie thought this must be what it felt like to be a summers breeze. He caressed the neck of his lute, and as he looked at Izzy he found himself smiling once more. I don't think I've heard you sing. Not even a shanty."

🪐 — LOST PROMPT : @shadowcovcn ( claudia ) for madeleine ▶ ❝ you took those bastards down like it was nothing. it…was amazing. ❞

IT WAS ALREADY TOO LATE to save her blouse. the fine fibers had absorbed the blood of her victims she just as ravenously as she had, turning from ivory to red down to her waist. killing the humans was easy now — they moved so slowly — but feeding without ruining her clothing proved to be more difficult. but madeleine shrugged it off as easily as the final man's crumpled body. it was nothing to be concerned about. claudia had assured her that her skills would sharpen with time. & there would be time enough for practice, & for purchasing more fabric ; time enough for everything, now.

as the last heartbeat in the pile of bodies at her feel fell silent, her companion's voice called her from her red-tinted haze. & madeleine returned to her without hesitation, stepping out of the carnage & moving to claudia's side. ❝ i had a good teacher, ❞ she replied simply, wiping at her chin with the back of her hand. her companion had fed too, of course, but unlike madeleine, she had managed to keep her yellow dress unstained, a bright spot in the grimy, blood-stained alley. ❝ & besides, no one will miss this trash. ❞ & she glanced back at the bodies they had left behind with contempt. the ability to read the mortals' thoughts had been quite overwhelming shortly after her transformation, but it had made it a simple matter to find deserving victims, no matter where she & claudia traveled.