Captain Teague;

🪐 — captain teague ;

     It had been months since Maria’s death yet the pain of her death remained ever potent. Memories of her clung to everything, overwhelming him with a sense of longing. The rum numbed him, at least temporarily, but without fail, grief clawed back to the surface. In a moment of desperation, he had gone to Tia Dalma hoping that she may have a cure. The “tears of a goddess”, she had claimed, would be able to heal his heart. They hadn’t. 

     Now he stood in her shack ready to throw the damn vial back in her face. 

     Her explanation did nothing to pacify him. If anything he was all the more ready to demand compensation. He stared at Tia Dalma in disbelief. She was being more obfuscating than usual, much to his displeasure. “ Released? ” Teague scoffed, “ in other words, they’re useless. ” His hand curled tightly around the small vial in his pocket. The damn thing was meant to make those feelings go away, but it hadn’t. Teague still felt grief clawing at him every day. The rum numbed it, at least temporarily. But he had wanted a permanent solution. 

     He pulled the vial out of his pocket and slapped it onto the table next to them. Then, as if the mere act had served as a release Teague’s shoulder slumped. If this hadn’t worked then what would? 

     “ I want a refund. ”​

          HER FACE TWISTS IN OFFENSE  at the accusation,  &  calypso pulls herself up as tall as she can in light of her pathetically limited form. tia dalma’s arms cross stubbornly over her chest,  &  her spine goes rigid in response to his tone. captain teague might have been near infamous on the seas, but a goddess feared no mortal man,  &  he was no exception.

                             ❝ they’re not useless, you just didn’t know how to use them, ❞ she responds, forming the words slowly so that he cannot possibly misunderstand her.  ❝ when your pain becomes overwhelming, you must take the stopper out of the bottle  &  let a drop fall onto your bare hand. you will find the hurt will recede as the tide. not entirely, of course  —  there is nothing in the world that can heal a broken heart, captain  —  but enough for you to breathe again for a time. ❞                                               calypso did wish that she could do something more for him, but to be a mortal was to be defined by briefness of existence.  &  yet, to be a human was to love in spite of the certainty of death. they would never learn — they would continue loving one another regardless of how doomed it was. but that much, at least, she could understand; she had never been able to stop herself from falling in love with mortals, either. ❝ i am sorry if you believe that i misrepresented my services to you, captain,  &  i regret that you are not satisfied with the results you received. ❞  her hand curls around the neck of a nearby bottle  &  pours rum into a glass, setting it on the table before him. ❝ but the fact remains that  i accept no refunds. ❞

🪐 —open prompt  sent by  @starfrckled​​  ( edward teach )                    ❛   i  just  want  myself  back .  ❜

          A SOUL IN TURMOIL  bringing themselves to tia dalma’s door searching for help or healing was no rare sight. the humans never changed; always distraught over some slight, always concerned only with easing their own pain. self-centered to a fault. but then, she could understand the need to do seek any means necessary to ease ache of a broken heart.  &  no matter how he tried to hide his wound, the truth was obvious to one familiar with the signs. especially when he asked her of davy jones,  &  the part of the legend where he had plunged a knife into his own chest to stop the pain.                        ❝ well then, you will have to know who it is that you are. ❞  her eyes catch him in their gaze  &  holds him there. &  the goddess leans forward in her seat, elbows on the table  &  hands clasped together tightly. the candles around her hut all flicker at once, sending shadows dancing ominously across her face. there is no trace of a warmth or humor in her tone when she speaks. ❝ so, are you the kind of man who would rather be without a heart at all, edward teach ? ❞  the syllables of his name are drawn out, exaggerated, ending in a flash of dirty teeth that is closer to bared fangs than anything resembling a smile.

🪐 — plotted starter  for  @izzyhnds​

      THE REVENGE  SEEMED LIKE A DIFFERENT VESSEL  without edward aboard. stede had fought so hard to return to his ship, expecting to find him there waiting. but instead there had only been a disgruntled izzy hands  &  a sharp sword at his throat. it had been the crew that had saved him this time, demanding a vote for the captaincy. edward’s orders had dictated that izzy be left in charge, but edward hadn’t been seen in weeks.  &  with stede returned, the crew had made their preference clear.                                                                    &  so stede was captain again. but without edward there with him, it was a hollow victory.  &  his sense of unease only grew sharper when izzy stalked away after the vote, visibly fuming. stede didn’t fancy having to worry about a blade at his back every time he turned around,  &  if izzy was going to be part of the crew  — at least while they searched for edward  —  then they would have to talk it through sooner or later.                                     still, talking to izzy hands was a less than appetizing thought. he still hadn’t forgotten the man’s sword plunging into his gut, or the way he had tried to convince edward this was really for the best while the british soldiers loaded their rifles. but edward had asked him to stay with the revenge  &  look after her while he was away doing whatever it was he had to do alone, so clearly he still trusted izzy. certainly he would have his reasons.  &  while stede could not say that the feeling was mutual, he also knew that he was the last person who could judge another for betraying edward’s trust.                 so he made his way down from the deck after the other man, finding his way to the small forgotten space that izzy had taken as his sleeping quarters aboard the ship. ❝ first mate hands ? ❞  he calls, rapping on the door with his knuckles. but stede does not wait for permission before swinging the door open  —  he is the captain,  &  he does not need permission to enter any space aboard his own ship. but the sight awaiting him when he swings the door opens is a surprise: izzy is packing his belongings into a rucksack, as if preparing to vacate his space. ❝ what exactly is it that you think you doing ? ❞  stede asks, standing bodily in the door so that izzy cannot easily slip past him  &  flee.

🪐 — lucius spriggs​ ;

lucius notices two things.   first,  this is the most he has ever heard izzy speak,  to him or otherwise.  second,  the man hasn’t yelled nastily at him yet  —  but he probably shouldn’t count on his luck to last him too much there.  and well,  for his part lucius rolls his eyes only once,  because he was expecting something along these lines and it’s nothing new to him at all.  there’s plenty of men like izzy out there,  locked in a cage of their own making,  furious at those who are outside of it.  it’s maddening,  honestly.  he doesn’t understand why anyone would want to live like that. 

❛  god,  no wonder you are so—  ❜   lucius would say miserable,  but it turns out he still has some self preservation left.   ❛  angry all the time.  ❜   he lets it out in a breathy little whisper,  pulling at the sleeves of his shirt a bit.  this is the point where he should get up and make himself scarce before izzy comes back to his senses and threatens to make him work or else,  but he has one more thing to say and he is not going to leave here before he does so.  self preservation be damned. ❛  whoever convinced you of that is a real dick.  ❜  

            HE REGRETS HIS HONESTY ALMOST INSTANTLY,  the sensation of vulnerability as uncomfortable as it is unfamiliar. the fear response hits him hard, heartbeat racing as he braces himself for laughter, taunts, sharp barbed quips that catch on his skin. he’s expecting for the weak spot to be exploited the moment it’s revealed,  &  his gloved hand nearly goes to the hilt of his sword out of instinct. but instead of judgement, there is something almost akin to understanding in lucius’s tone, though it’s well cloaked beneath exasperation. &  izzy thinks that will be the end of it, prepares to walk away  &  pretend the conversation had never happened.                                                      but the boy’s next words catch him by surprise, leaving izzy breathless. his eyes go wide as he turns them back on lucius, searching his face for any sign that this is some meanspirited joke. but he finds none there. the scribe is looking him with something almost akin to sorrow on his face. but no, it’s worse than that: pity.  &  he folds in on himself all at once, his high cheekbones flushed with embarrassment. ❝ you just don’t understand, ❞ izzy insists, shaking his head  &  looking away. how could he explain that it hadn’t been just one person that had convinced him of the reality of his lot in life, but rather the world at large, that it had been beaten into him with repeated lessons, each more harsh than the last ?  he would never find the words, no matter how long he searched. so he swallows the pieces, lets them slice through him on their way down his throat, hoping they won’t come up again.  ❝ get back to fuckin’ work, spriggs. ❞

🪐 — izzy / headcanon ;

izzy’s right glove that he never removes is covering up a large ugly brand on the back of his hand that labels him as a naval deserter. the tool that was used to make it would look something like this but with a large D beside the crown design in the center. he keeps it covered because he doesn’t want anyone — fellow pirates or otherwise — to know of his past in the military.

i am insane <3 PRINTS