Anne Looks Away With A Tsk When The Questions Batted Back To Her. Without Rakataks Knowledgeor Perhaps

Anne looks away with a tsk when the question’s batted back to her. Without Rakatak’s knowledge—or perhaps with it, but unannounced to her—Anne has tried to leave the Red Horse. More than once, even. She’s tried wheedling her way into other berths, but touched by the Horseman as she is, she’s been turned away at every opportunity. Those that don’t turn because of the Red Horse turn because of Jack and the Ranger. She’s well and truly committed to her watery grave now.

Irritable—as if she’s ever anything else—Anne flips her hand in an almost violent gesture, as if trying to wave the matter off altogether.

“Congratu-fuckin-lations, ye now know the disposition of yer fuckin crew. En’t my fuckin duty t’figure out the oughts; that’s a right of the captain.” Quartermasters, even unofficial ones like Anne had been, are not in charge of praise or reward among the crew. They keep the ship ready and primed, and mete out discipline on the captain’s behalf. Finding the missing pieces to a successful voyage has never been on her roster of duties, never mind within her skill set. It seems to her to be one of the few duties of a real captain, a successful captain.

Anne fixes Rakatak with a look that says what she won’t risk saying out loud: that the other woman must truly and well be an idiot. (And for once, the look isn’t full of the exasperation of being taken at offense when she meant none.)

“By choice?! Oh, aye—the choice to sail or grow roots, what abundance of choice is open t’me! Ye’re a stupid fuck if ye think I’m on this heap a’cause I have a fucking choice.” Anne is easily baited into anger and now is no exception; there’s a familiar curl of disgust in her lip and her voice as she rants. “Where in the fuck d’ye think women sail, precisely? Might be diff’rent in the waters ye come from, but here, it en’t a thing! I left the side of the only godforsaken idiot pirate left who’d let a woman sail on false promises, and now I sail in the fucking grave I dug myself when I left him! I don’t have a fucking choice. I sail with ye or I give up the sea and any semblance of relief she offered me!”

And that—that is a fate worse than death in Anne’s estimation.

I owe three starters; everything else is queued or posted!

Anyone wanna plot?

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Not to be a downer on main but today’s so fucking long. I’m here for another 8.5 hours. Please. Consider sending distractions.

I want to make this known; it’s OKAY to flirt with my muse, it’s okay to say flirty things to them, yes, they may not react to it, they may not respond to it positively, but know as a mun I’m 100% OKAY with it. Especially if my muse is clearly attractive appearance wise, go a head, flirt with them, if my muse is your muse’s type, it’s okay to flirt, we don’t have to be shipping, we don’t ever have to ship to have you flirt with my muse; I WONT think you’re pushing a ship on me either. But I just feel that some people are scared to have their muse be flirty to another because we a muns might take it the wrong way.

 I’m not saying this goes for everyone, but I’m letting you know that it doesn’t make me uncomfortable and I’m fine with it.