@tryckthebard Cause I Was Feeling Silly~

@tryckthebard ‘cause I was feeling silly~

Two weeks in Nassau have restored Anne Bonny to the blithe bitch that set the port alight in the first place. Gone is the aloof, alone Anne with her crossed arms and her trustless gaze—but gone too is the Anne who would huff and roll her eyes at Tryck’s antics but never once pushed him away. In her place is a rowdier woman, the first woman, the one who came to raise hell and left with ash under her nail.

When Anne turns away from the bar with a pint held triumphantly in each hand, you can see the first one in her form, the full-throated rebel yell she had been building herself to become in those days. It’s a glimpse of Anne uneroded, the mountain she might have become.

How much of this is Anne, and how much of this is Nassau? It shouldn’t be this hard to tell.

Anne’s beer is gone unnervingly fast; the other she pounds the table with, leaving it in front of Tryck. She blows a kiss to Spanish Jackie—beloved friend and proprietor of the bar they now occupy—which is waved off with an affectionate roll of the eyes as Jackie left for the evening. Anne falls backwards into Tryck’s lap, arms going around his neck to help keep her balance. This is possibly the least sober she’s been in years, certainly in recent memory!

“And that…is how ye fuckin negotiate. Three nights free and ye don’t even have to let her ogle ye!”

The sulphur-stink of the Hells crowds Anne’s senses, drowning out anything that isn’t blood, piss, and brimstone. It’s enough to make her gag. The sight of the fiend does nothing to calm Anne’s revulsion: desperation drove her to this place, nothing more. Desperation and a whispered rumor. Anne hides neither her disgust nor her disdain, eyeing the Hells’ monarch right back with eyes of sea glass green so sharp they seem almost to cut through his reddish skin. There’s no point in asking how he knows a pirate from a sailor: her sins are writ large on her soul, no doubt, as known to him as to her.

“I en’t interested in yer fucking treasure.” Well. So much for keeping a civil tongue in her head. Anne bites off worse before she can say it, swallowing the words back down with a bitter grimace. She doesn’t humble herself much, or often. Asks are friends or those who owe her—but here she is, ready to be humble and ask. Ready to invite in some risk for the one reward yet out of reach.

“Tell me honest, devil—if honesty be a virtue ye’re capable of—do they speak right when they call you an avenging angel against abusers?”

starter call / @neverhangd

He smells her long before he sees her, the scent of sea salt sticking to her like a second skin. It is not everyday you see a pirate so far from shore... She must be in desperate need of his services. "What is wrong, did you sink your boat?" he teases the pirate, chuckling at his own, cliche joke as his red-orange eyes flicker over her form from behind his helmet. "There is treasure to be found here, that is true... But my treasure comes with a hefty price, pirate."

♡ from izzy!!!

Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours

LOW | ●●●●● | HIGH

●●●●● | ATTRACTION - No, she will not be elaborating on this.

○○○○○ | AFFECTION - BUT IN ALL FAIRNESS, she does not know this man at all. Not in any meaningful or personal way, at least.

●●●●● | INTEREST - The literal stuff of legends. Anne’s highkey a fan of his and really bad at hiding it.

●●●○○ | LOYALTY - Anne is a very loyal person at her core, and even without knowing him well, Anne would follow his orders. She wouldn’t follow him to the ends of the earth or into hell (yet?), so two points off.

●●●○○ | TRUST - She’d like to think it’s situationally dependent, but honestly? Seven times out of ten she’d trust Hands and his opinion over anything. Two points off because she doesn’t know him well enough on a personal level to put blind faith in him, never mind risk her wellbeing.

●●●○○ | OVERALL - Being a living legend and seemingly tall person will always start you pretty high up

؟

Send me a ؟ for a random thought my muse has about yours.

Can’t get him fucking Shakespeare, that’s a shite gift, but the hell’s he gonna do with more coin? Nowhere to spend it out here! He’s had twice the sexual adventures I have, can’t be anything he likes but hasn’t tried yet, never mind discovering something new. Just as early as riser as me, so no sense in trying to finish his chores ahead of him waking…fuck. The hell are ye supposed to get someone with more than you?!

Anne actually has to stop and think about that for a moment before she can answer. In fairness, she might be a threat to him specifically, in the right circumstances…but in this moment? No. She’s a threat to the state, the coinpurses of patriarchs, and men by the name of Jack Rackham, but not much else.

“…in general, but I’ll let ye know if that changes, aye?”

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@neverhangd sent: “i  identify  as  a  fucking  threat.” // SOURCE: incorrect quotes generator.

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Puck nods. He understands & relates to this sentiment. Not something he's necessarily proud of but that is a different matter entirely.

❝ A threat to me specifically, or in general ？❞

Anne rolls her eyes, but affection sits at the corners of her smirking lips. Quite the drama queen, isn’t he? Still. There are worse sorts to have thrown your lot in with. Anne pulls the magpie bait back out—small and shiny and suitably expensive-looking—tossing it in Astarion’s direction. She’s no use for baubles, anyway, and lacks sufficient charms to barter it away at a better price. Let the sulker have his fix. Besides, she knew what he’d meant. She’s learned that most of their little adventuring party shares that trait in common with her and him, that dearth of kindness that makes any gesture towards it so intimidatingly grand. When she’d pocketed the little treasure, she’d only been fucking with him.

“Take back what, exactly? ‘T’en’t like ye complimented me, or gave me nothing.” She isn’t really complaining, of course, only filling the air between them with noise. Small talk isn’t her strong suit—not that banter is, but at least that’s a skill she’s willing to learn. “When ye listen to yerself talk, do ye hear the words or only the sound of yer own voice?”

@neverhangd continued from HERE!

"What?! No that wasn't---"

The vampire spawn now regrets opening his mouth, but more than that, he regrets laying down his guard and briefly thinking that for one moment someone could be kind without strings attached. Perhaps it's his fault? After all, he did tell her to not be nice to him because it did make him want to be kind in return.

Astarion sighs dramatically. "I didn't mean it like that. It was a figure of speech! I said that because I'm not used to people giving me a kind word or offering me things." Watching her pocket the trinket, he holds his head high. "But forget what I said." He huffs. "I take it back too."