#brim with no pirate england

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

First of all congrats once again on the milesone bby!!! for the sleepover can I as a micro drabble for jack and pirate AU ?? honestly at first I was going to ask for frankie but jack just felt like a better fit fbfgb love u <333

Sil my love! I had the time of my life sailing the seas with Pirate!Jack. Inevitably, this Captain Jack is partly inspired by the OG Captain Jack Sparrow and POTC. I loved POTC fanfic back in the day, so thank you so much for sending this prompt!

Jack Daniels x pirate AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 889 words | warnings: non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, childhood sweethearts, mention of arranged marriage, historical romance

The last time you saw him was seven years ago, when you hurled words dipped in hurt and  teenage venom at him as he held you, his beat-up leather bag at his feet by the water.

‘I need to go and earn my fortune, or your father will never let you marry me. Can’t you understand that?’ he pleaded with you.

‘We can run away!’ you insisted, your cheeks streaked with ugly tears.

He shook his head, kissing you on your forehead. ‘I want you to have a life you deserve, and I can’t give it to you if I don’t do this.’ 

Taking off the only thing he has of value - his mother’s gold ring set on a chain - he slipped it over your head and kissed you one last time.

‘I’ll come back for you. Wait for me, darlin’.’

You stand on that very same dock now. You’ve grown up. You’re taller, sadder, and you wear your melancholy like a shroud. You’re set to sail across the seas to England, a country you’ve never set foot on; and to marry your betrothed, a man you’ve never met.

You’re numb, resigned to your fate. Jack is dead. Or he’s found someone else, married and happy in a distant, exotic land. It doesn’t make a difference either way.

His mother’s ring, the only thing you have left of him, hangs between your breasts, digging into your skin under your corset, the same place it’s been all these years.

Your chambermaid asks gently, ‘Are you ready, my lady?’

You nod.

And you walk the plank.

The sound of cannon fire jolts you violently out of your sleep, and you bolt up from your uncomfortable little cot. It sounds like hell unleashed up on deck above, the sound of boots and violence right on top of your head.

Your chambermaid bursts into your room with one of your coats in her hands.

‘What’s happening?’ you ask frantically.

‘Pirates!’ she screams.

She throws the coat over your shoulders, and you hastily pull on a pair of boots. Once you’re decent, a lieutenant appears to escort you both to safety.

It’s bedlam above. The bitter tinge of gunpowder stings your eyes and nose, the smell of blood turns your stomach, and then the screams and the clang of swords - the lieutenant presses a hand to the back of your head so you’re looking at your feet as you sprint across deck, or you surely would have fainted.

Your entourage makes it to the back of the ship, where one of the rowing boats is ready to be lowered into the water - when you hear a gun being cocked at the back of your head.

‘Not so fast, darlin’.’

Darlin’.

You’d know that voice anywhere.

Your chambermaid shrieks in fright when the lieutenant falls onto the floor from a blunt crack of the butt of a pistol against his head.

Slowly, you turn around.

His eyes are the same. The same brown, but now, there are lines around them and creases at the corners. He’s obviously seen a lot of sun, freckles and marks pepper his face, and curls peek from underneath the wide-brimmed hat he wears. Behind him, you see the looming figure of a ship flying the unmistakable black flag of a skull with two swords underneath it.

Jack grins at you. ‘Hello, darlin’.’

You walk straight up to him and slap him across the face, with everything you got. From the corner of your eye, you see the other bedraggled pirates gasp at your bold action as his head whips to one side at the force.

But he only grins wider and pulls you into him by your wrists. He smells of the sea, musky, with the distinct whiff of ocean salt.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ you spit at him, your traitorous eyes brimming with tears.

He clucks teasingly. ‘What a tongue you’ve got on you now, darlin’.’

You shove at him with your whole body, but he barely budges. ‘Fuck you, Jack. I waited for you, and you never came back for me.’

He cocks his head to one side. ‘I did come back for you, darlin’, I was at our hometown but three days ago - only to be told that you were on your merry way to marry some landed gentry across the sea. And that simply won’t do - I’m a pirate darlin’, and I don’t share what’s mine.’

You scoff. ‘I’m not yours, Jack. You lost me when you left me seven years ago.’

‘It’s Captain Jack to you, thank you very much,’ he retorts playfully, unfazed by your ire. You gasp when he unceremoniously rips open the lapels of your coat, and one rough fingertip trails down your bare neck, curling around the delicate gold chain that you never take off.

His eyes soften at the sight of his mother’s ring. ‘You lie so well, you’ll make an excellent pirate yourself, darlin’.’

Grabbing him by the scruff of his collar, you kiss him hard, his big hands gripping your waist, crushing you into his embrace. Brushing his nose against yours, he pulls back. 

‘I should’ve asked you all those years ago,’ he says, regret colouring his words. ‘Will you marry me?’

You palm his cheek, grinning through tears. ‘Yes, my captain, a thousand times yes.’

#fuckyeah2222celebration #jack daniels fanfiction #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels drabble #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x fem!reader #jack daniels pirate au

[lorewright]

I posted 2,687 times in 2022

8 posts created (0%)

2,679 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@characternerdocs

@spookypainting

@kickassfu

@chickypoodoodloos

@allteeensrelate

I tagged 64 of my posts in 2022

#chicky's oc - 9 posts

#jewel - 8 posts

#awesome art - 5 posts

#artist has open commissions - 5 posts

#chickypoodooloos - 4 posts

#chicky's ocs - 4 posts

#chickys jewel - 3 posts

#awesome artists - 3 posts

#tetsuji - 3 posts

#airi - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 99 characters

#and i can 100% assure to you that all the associate would instantly onboard this dog as an employee

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I'm starting to appreciate the completely UNHINGED nature of TX. My coworker walked into work today as ask "you like pirates and skull right?" And I'm like yeah. So he says come out to my truck I found two pirate swords someone throw away after Halloween. And I'm like oh... mmm ok? Legit they're two metal fencing swords with skulls on the hilt and guards?!

See the full post

2 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

#4

Rules: tag nine (9) people you want to get to know better

Tagged by: @johannabarkerrs

Favorite time of the year: fall, I get to wear layers again and it not freezing cold yet, and all the fun spooky stuff starts to show up. Leaves change color. All together it's a good time.

Comfort food: not sure what it called by a coworker made this super delicious cookie brownie dessert- it was a chocolate chip cookie on the down and brownie on the top with oreos in the middle. I need to get her to give me the recipe. That or a good cup of New England claw chowder, not the can stuff but the kind in the bag you have to boil in hot water. It's the best.

Do I collect anything?: yes, I collect Stieff, a brand of stuff animals that originated in Germany. Most of them I've gotten as gifts from my grandmother, who was born and grew up in Germany. The first Stieff I got is a fox named Xorry. The weirdest is a snowman from what I assume is a German kid show called Tabaluga, and this snowman I assume is the villain as he's got long black gloves and evil yellow eyes above the brim of his top hat. But I love him very much as my Oma saw it and thought, "oh he is freaky and bizarre little guy, Eri will absolutely love him.

Favorite drink: iced coffee with mocha flavored creamer

Favorite song: The Bounty Hunter by Mike Cross, I remember hearing this song when I was either six or seven on one of my dad's CD as he was driving me to school or something. And while it was horribly morbid for a kid to love, I still love it to this day. It just a nice little engaging ballad of an outlaw vs a bounty hunter and after probably a thousand listen after so many years it still intrigues me.

Favorite current song: Shadow of Mine by Alec Benjamin. I actually like a lot of his songs, but this is the most recent of his I found. I also like, Boy in the Bubble, Outrunning Karma, and Mother's Eyes to name a few others of his.

Favorite fic book: I don't read fic all that much. Sorry :( so I'll do my favorite book. Which is A Series of Unfortunate Events. It's been one of my favorite series since I was a kid. And as an adult it appreciate all the literature references the author uses for the building of the world, from places like Prufrock Prep beginning a reference to the poem "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock" to the character Esmé Squalor as nod to the short story, "To Esmé - with Love and Squalor." The series has been a huge inspiration to me and my own writing projects as well.

Tagging: (if I tag you and you don't want to do the dash game, no problem, I take no offense and feel free to pass) @justchickythings or whatever blog you think this fits best on Chicky, @the-asexual-unicorn , @ludicrous-musings , @penelopethehufflepuffbiatch , @musical-engineer

3 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

#3

Customer: *holds out phone with a picture of a product* where do you have this cleaner?

Me, a retail worker: I'm sorry we don't carry that particular product in store.

Customer: But it says right here that it's in stock!

Me: Sir. That is a screenshot from Amazon.

9 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

#2

This is the plot, right?

53 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

86 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[captkirkland]

so i dont write stuff on tumblr very often cause im embarrassed about my writing but i got a drabble in mind based off of something else i wrote (tw for drowning but he’s fine. its fine) ~

Water pelts the deck of the ship below Arthur's boots, angry as it beats and batters the sails. He can hardly even hear himself over the whistling wind and the sharp, stinging rain, and he knows how loudly he must be yelling to his other crew members. Where even are they..? He's not got a clue, but the storm the ship's sailing through makes the main mast creak and groan with wooden fatigue. 

Every ear-piercing cry threatens its eventual snap. God, where the hell is everyone?! Have they all lost their minds, there's no way anyone's asleep below deck like this! Arthur doesn't think about it any longer than that, he's got to loosen the ropes and lower the sails, which by God is a lot easier said than done. The Captain sloshes through water that's up to his knees, it and the wind both doing their damnedest to push him down. He's soaked to the bone, and colder than ice, but he can't stop. Or rather, he wont. They're nowhere near land, and if this mast--or any other for that matter--breaks everyone on board is promised to the sea and her hunger. It feels like ages before Arthur reaches the mast, grabbing the ropes around both of his hands and his wrists, just so he can pull with all of his might. Bad form, he knows, as the ropes feel like they burn into his skin from their excruciating protests, but that wont keep the man from pulling the sails closed. 

Inching and inching and inching, the ocean soaked sails are so heavy even they object their movement against the angry wind-- this is a job meant for many men, not one. The only thing Arthur's got on his side is the fact that he's a not a simple man. He’s a damned country, and with burning green eyes he yanks the ropes as taut as they can be, twisting them about a hold to keep them there. Steady. There's another though, the foresail needs to be closed too lest the ship just start spinning off course in the storm. Obviously his body screams for him to stop, but the deep mix of emotions in England’s chest push him through it. Those hardly ever make it out of him in the best of ways, and this isn’t exactly an exception either, but that’s beyond the point. He’s got to make it out of this, not just for himself, but for everyone else in the world he needs to see after. The crew can receive a stern talking to later, but this situation is now way beyond that which could be quelled by reason, or even by shouting. All he can do is rely on himself now. Arthur pushes through the water, which smacks and beats at his thighs as the wind pushes at him from what feels like all angles just to keep him from reaching the foremast. But something wraps itself around his leg in the sea that angrily invites itself aboard like its trying to flood the place. Is it a rope? Arthur can’t particularly tell, but he moves to drag his foot out of it with a loud grunt of effort as he trips starboard towards the bowsprit despite the effort. It takes everything he has not to be swept away, grabbing his arms around the mast he’s reached, fingers slipping against the slick wood. If he weren’t smarter, he’d think the ocean wanted him to fail. But he is smarter.. and it still seems that way.

There’s curses as Arthur chokes against the salty water, the howling of the situation much too loud to even hear himself. Maybe that, or he’s gone deaf and the only sound that wants to meet his ears is the voice of God yelling in anger for the misdeeds of himself and others. Who really knows, and who really even bloody cares at this point?! Gritting his teeth, Arthur digs his nails into the ropes around the base of the foremast as he drags himself to his feet, and wraps the coarse sail ropes around his arms again. He heaves out in effort, pulling against the way the waves want to drag him, he’s got to pull back, not to the side. The waters all rushing to the right, but he digs his heels into the small cracks in the flooring beneath him, tugging back… and back.. and back... until finally he’s gone far enough. Upon reaching the next hold, Arthur wraps the rope around it so tight he can feel the muscles in his entire body burn from the effort of it all. Once he’s done, he looks around the ship for what he has to do next, but catches himself blindsided instead. A giant crate caught adrift in the water on the deck comes careening from his left side while he’s looking right, and it smacks directly into him, the momentum of it pushing Arthur over with enough force to drive him in the fearsome strength of the Eddy that’s been forming across the ship this entire time. It pulls him into its current, Arthur for once feeling so much less like a country and so much more like a man who can hardly save himself as it throws him overboard. First there’s nothing but the air and its chill.. and then there’s nothing but water and its even bitterer cold. He can’t breathe. He can’t swim. What the hell kind of pirate can’t swim!? Arthur’s never been able to, and his arms feel so tired and witless against the storming sea. Everything’s dark, salty, and nigh frozen... and he still can’t breathe. Is he choking? Is he dying? Is this what dying genuinely feels like? It’s horrifying. How many times do humans go through this? Once. He’s gone through “death” before in the past, but at least then he always knew he’d open his eyes again. He knew he’d feel his heart beating again. This is so much worse, all he can see is the filtered moonlight through the deepest darkness he’s ever witnessed.. and all of its closing in around him as his hand reaches upwards. And he still can’t breathe. Arthur wakes with a start suddenly, having fallen asleep at his desk again, surrounded in papers and pens that’ve fallen to the ground by now. His breath is so uneven, and he falls over out of his chair, like he should be trying to kick and swipe his hands. It isn’t till he’s on the ground and holding himself that he genuinely realizes he’s simply on the floor in his apartment, the clock ticking softly in the background like nothing happened. God, his throat burns, his wrists sting, and it’s still so hard to breathe. Arthur’s chest heaves as he tries to recall everything that just happened, panic rising in his chest in a manner he can’t help but despise. Its then that the thought races across the front of his mind that thinks he might be having a panic attack or something. This is so stupid! It was just a dream, what on Earth is this happening to him for? His heart feels as if its running laps in his chest, like a frightened rabbit trying to escape a hungry wolf that doesn’t even exist anymore, and hasn’t for hundreds of years at this point. Clammy, sweaty hands find the embroidered seat of a wooden chair as he pushes himself up to his feet against his body’s better judgement, like he’s forcing himself to be fine in the face of his own failings. Well, not just like, he is doing that really.  But then the phone rings, and the loud sound nearly sends England to the ceiling of his own office. “Fucking Christ,” he curses to himself, mumbling the words as he rubs the front of his face before dragging both hands down. Soon, he reaches over the desk for his phone and swipes it up into his hand. With a bit of fumbling from fingers that wont stop shaking, he answers the call. “Hello?” “Oh, Alfred, what is it?” “Hah, of course you’d want something like that.. yes, I can bring it by rather soon.” “Mhm.” “Really, is that so?” “Baffling.” “And how are you beyond that?” “That’s very nice, yes, I’m fine as well. Had a bit of a nap, I’m about to put on the afternoon tea, you really should come by my house soon so I can share a bit.” “Ahh.. of course, deal with that first then.” “Mhm, see you soon, goodbye.” He hangs up the phone, clicking the red button after a try or two, just letting it fall back down to the table with a sigh. At least getting something for Alfred done always takes his mind off of things, he can’t help but think of the American instead. God bless him, he doesn’t even know what he does.

#hetalia #iggy rambles #iggy writes #my writing #hws england #woahhh pirate england with no brim #brim with no pirate england #no pirate england with no brim

[luthientinu]

Of Pirates, Healers and Commodores- Chapter 1

James Norrington x oc fic

AN- Here's Chapter one!! Thank you for all the feedback and I really appreciate it! Posted on Ao3 and fanfiction.net. The links are in my masterlist post and on the contents page post.

Ellie sat by a table filled to the brim with plants and various other tools needed to fulfil the task given to her. Agnes had tasked her with replenishing the herb stocks and making various other poultices, teas and salves needed for the slightly accident prone residents of Port Royal.

As she was grinding a mixture of herbs for a salve, she contemplated her life in Port Royal during the course of six months when she had arrived first. Agnes, the kindly healer of Port Royal had taken her in as an apprentice. Under her masterful tutelage, Ellie had the chance of expanding her knowledge in the intricate and vast art of healing and medicinal plants. She flourished quickly and was soon helping Agnes out with the majority of her work.

Life here was a tad uneventful. Early morning chores, breakfast, the daily home visits to the older patients and grocery shopping in the morning. Lunch, patient visitings and medicine preparations in the afternoons. Herb collecting, an occasional dip in the ocean (In secret of course! Imagine the scandal and the toll it would take on the delicate hearts!) in the evening. Dinner, preparations for the next day and a well deserved good night’s sleep.

Ellie got along quite well with the other residents of Port Royal. She was liked and especially adored by the children who would help her out with the herb picking. She would sometimes join them in their games and help them with their frequent cuts and scrapes they bore. She was quite a hit among the older women who she treated for their chronic pains. Ellie was also the frequent target for the women who would constantly ask when she would settle down with a man and have kids on her own. She had to turn down countless suggestions from the concerned women who would try to set her up with their sons and brothers. She was in a bit of a predicament with the women her own age as Ellie has refused to gossip with them whenever they meet each other. If there is one thing Ellie hates that is gossiping. Yes, it may have it’s uses occasionally but it is an awful habit. It put her at odds with them. They did not understand her and she did not understand them (though she has made an effort to do so) but she was on talking terms with the others so that was satisfactory.

"Good God child! Have you been taking dips in the ocean again? Look at your hair! Absolutely drenched! Haven’t you heard of a towel? Go wipe your hair this instant! I do not want you sick with a bad cold as a result of your negligence." Agnes’s ringing voice snapped Ellie out of her reverie.

Ellie laughed. "Of course my lady. Apologies for the trouble." She caught the towel Agnes threw at her and began towelling her hair.

"Have you heard the news? Apparently the new Governor is to arrive today from England. The governor, his daughter and a contingent from the Royal Navy. The pirates are getting out of hand it seems." Agnes grinned at that. "Do not towel so hard child. You are supposed to be gentle."

"Is that so?". Ellie's mind drifted to Jack. She hoped he was doing fine and knowing Jack and his daredevil schemes and plans she kind of worried about him but so far she has not heard of any ill news regarding him so her mind was at ease.

"Have you finished- Who is it?" Agnes was interrupted by a sharp rapping on the door. "I will get it", Ellie said and ran to the door.

On opening the door, she was greeted by the sight of two children and a Naval Officer. A Lieutenant, she mused to herself. The boy was looking a bit worse for wear and the girl had a concerned look on her face.

"Are you Miss Agnes? I was directed here by the dock men saying the healer lives here."

"You have come to the right place. Agnes is here and no I am not Agnes. I am her apprentice."

"You are Miss..?"

"Carter. Eleanor Katherine Carter. Bit of a mouthful. Call me Ellie. Sorry for the ramble and ah! Here's Agnes!"

James had to beat back a smile.

"Speak of the Devil! Has the Governor arrived already?" Agnes inquired.

"Yes Ma'am. We arrived a few minutes ago. Regarding Young Mister Turner here. We picked him up from a shipwreck on the way. Brought him here to check on his well-being." stated James.

Ellie observed the boy who looked to be around twelve years of age. She ran a practised eye over him. He had no physical wounds, though she suspected that he might have some mental wounds from his encounter. He was looking thin and some good meals would do him good. Other than that he was fine.

"What is your name, little one?" she whispered while kneeling down to his level.

"William Turner", the little boy stammered out.

"Is Will alright?", the girl announced, finally making herself heard.

"The lad will be fine, young lady. He needs some good meals and a good rest. He will be as right as rain in a couple of days." exclaimed Agnes, confirming Ellie's thoughts.

"What is your name, young lady?" Ellie turned to her and looked at her expectantly.

"Elizabeth Swann. I came with my father and Mister Norrington."

"And you Lieutenant?" She turned to James and she saw surprise flash across his face and she swore she saw he blushed a little.

"James. James Norrington."

"It is an absolute pleasure to meet you all. This as you all know by now is Agnes", Ellie threw an arm around her, "the resident healer of Port Royal and here's the apprentice", she gestured to herself.

"Does the young lad have a place to stay for now?" Agnes queried and the atmosphere toned down a little.

"I am sure we could keep him for the time being. Besides, we could monitor Will for a couple of days." Ellie suggested and looked at Agnes for the final verdict.

"Of course!" the kindly healer replied. "We will keep him for a couple of days till suitable accommodation is found for the lad."

"That is incredibly generous of you both. Thank you. I will inform the Governor of this. We will be off. Take care Mister Turner. Goodbye Miss Agnes and Miss Carter." James touched his hat in greeting and walked towards the door.

"Bye bye Will, Ellie and Miss Agnes. I will see you soon!" waved Elizabeth frantically and joined James by the door.

Ellie went up to the door and saw them off. Agnes was taking Will for a hot bath when she looked at Ellie with a twinkle in her eye.

"What?"

"Oh it is nothing", replied Agnes still with a secretive grin and the damn twinkle in her eye.

Ellie sighed. This would be a meeting to remember.

Previous- Prologue

Next- Chapter 2

Series Master List

AN 2- This was fun to write!! Hope I got the characterisation alright. Likes, comments and reblogs are welcome.

Taglist: @kenirubes

#pirates of the caribbean #james norrington #james norrington x oc #james norrington x ofc #luthientinuwrites #of pirates healers and commodores

[just-shipgirl-thoughts]

Planet A886CP (Part 1)

The planet A886CP-GWP,  (Alpha 886 CP GWP , meaning it is part of the generation Alpha planets, CP standing for cargo planet, as in a planet used for cargo facilities. 886 means its the 886th planet on the registered planet list, GWP stands for Glacial Water Planet),  Is a huge glacier water planet with sparse yet huge islands, 3 times bigger than earth and home to hundreds  of privately owned storage facilities, along with a few notable colonies.

The most famous facility being the Dead Sun Resource Depot, owned by Dead Sun Shipping INC, a Shipping/Ship building company based in Bristol, England. 

The other depots sit on abandoned islands, long since opened and emptied. Only a few actually have anything inside them. These complexes are much smaller than the Dead sun complex, holding pathetic amounts of cargo compared to the ones on Point Man O War. That being said, the dead sun complex holds enough cargo at any given time to run the entire planet for a full 30 years without support, so the other depots still carry insane amounts of supplies, just not nearly as much as the Dead Sun.

The Complex sits on Point Man o’ war, a massive island sitting high above the water because of the gigantic rock cliffs, around the size of the white cliffs of dover. The Island is roughly twice the size of Russia in length and width, with 4 different distinct zones. The only ways onto the island is during the rain season, when the ice around the glacier zone shores soften, making it much easier to scale the icy cliffs, or aboard a cargo ship when it makes port at the Dead sun depot, where you are blindfolded and dragged through the complex to the Alpha city.

Point Man O’ War is incredibly cold, as is the rest of the planet. Everything is always either coated head to toe in snow, or frozen over solid. It gets even worse when winter hits, and the weather ramps up to an extreme. Massive blizzards, twice the size of the great white hurricane, are fairly common during the winter years. The only thing that keeps the cold at bay is the fossil fuel mines in the beta zone, powering the massive heaters spread throughout the sprawling cities.

The 1st zone, the Dead sun Point, is the only one settled by humans. It has 3 colonies, which are: the Alpha zone, Beta zone, and the Glacier zone.

The seasons on the planet can be boiled down to “Cold”, “Colder”, “Fuck, It’s cold again” and “Why the hell is it raining now”. The Planet is pretty much just locked in an eternal winter. Most of the time everything is iced over or snowed under. However, when it hits the rainy season, it goes from Bone chilling to “Oof, it’s a little chilly out” coupled with some small showers in the first few days, to Hurricanes and massive swirling rainstorms. During the rain season, most of the ice outside the island melts, leaving the waters open for cargo trade. This is when all the cargo ships make landfall on the planet, full to the brim with precious resources. The ice is incredibly thick, almost thicker than most armor on Battleships, Making traditional icebreakers useless against it, so it's better to just wait till winter ends.

The Other islands on the planet are completely deserted apart from two. 

They sit almost on the complete opposite side of the planet, where most of the ships make landing due to the soft ice. These two islands are mostly populated by stranded sailors and pirates, smugglers and thieves, castaways and the like. These islands are where the infamous Harpy gang of pirates reside, a medium sized fleet of very fast and heavily armed skiffs made to skim across choppy water. 

The most infamous skiff would be the USS Jester, which only comes out during the Rain season. She can usually be spotted around the “Devil's Spine”, a semi shallow stretch of water that only she can sail due to her low profile. The spine is incredibly long, reaching around almost the entire planet, a huge ring of sharp rock outcroppings that jut out of the water at cruel angles, just begging for a ship to run aground on. The spine has many wrecks impaled upon its rocks, cargo freighters too big to maneuver through the sharp rocks that were impaled by the sharp cobalt. The jester hovers around the only way through the spine, a canal with near identical length and width to the Suez canal on earth. Although, this way is currently blocked by a Mammoth class cargo freighter, the USS Artemis, when it got blown into the rocks and got stuck horizontally. The Jester uses the rocks as cover, darting in and out behind them in order to get close to passing cargo freighters and blast their engines and rudders out, forcing them into a turn and leaving them stranded on the rocks. When the ship is incapacitated, She laser designates it for the other skiffs and scampers off into another part of the spine.

Her bounty is currently 90,000,000 IPC (InterPlanetary Credits). (1 credit is equivalent to 5 USD).

_______

I made a custom planet

Sorry if there was some contradictions between this post and my other post: “USS Jester”.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

#humans are crazy #humans are space orcs #humans need to take a fucken chill pill #Dear god #Space #Galaxy #I made a custom planet #tagging is hard #humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are pirates #humans are aliens #humans are space australians #The brits are gonna have a new colonization streak #The sun never sets on the british empire 2: Electric Boogaloo

[carewyncromwell]

Anybody want some more POTC AU? Well, this time we’re getting some focus on our Davy Jones (Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws, based on this concept) and our Commodore “Carey Weasley” (Carewyn Cromwell)! In the original films, their respective roles are on opposite sides of the fence (hell, Davy Jones kills Norrington in the movies damnitDisneyNorringtondeservedbetter >>), and even in this AU, Davy!Finn has some history with Carewyn’s brother Jacob...so how will they interact, when they collide? We’ll just have to wait and see...

17th-18th century pirate ships were -- in a bizarre way -- tiny, floating representative democracies, about 50-60 years before the American Revolution. In a world where nearly all European countries were run by kings chosen by “divine right” and one could usually only “rise above their station” through fighting in wars or through marrying someone of a higher class, pirate ships operated under the idea of “one man, one vote” and their captains both were chosen by popular vote and could be replaced at any time, oftentimes rather peacefully. The Age of Enlightenment sparked by thinkers like John Locke started in the midst of the Golden Age of Piracy and really kicked off as soon as it was over, circa 1730. Those same ideas ended up inspiring both the American and French Revolutions in the later 18th and early 19th centuries...so yeah, in a weird way, you could draw a direct connection between the values and grievances against the monarchy expressed by pirates to the ones expressed by America’s Founding Fathers and the figures of the French Revolution!

Previous part is here, whole tag is here...and I hope y’all enjoy!

x~x~x~x

When the Flying Dutchman returned from Tortuga, the brig was stuffed to the brim with about two hundred prisoners -- and yet, even with that, Cutler Beckett was not pleased. None of those captured were particularly well-known or wanted pirates: instead the group largely consisted of retired pirates, pirates’ families, or other such refugees from the law who hadn’t committed any crimes except through association.

“The pirates refused to be taken alive, Beckett,” spat Jones impatiently. “All of the ones we captured fought to the death rather than be imprisoned.”

“Admirable excuse, Jones,” said Beckett airily, “but at present, we need prisoners to interrogate -- and although you may be comfortable dealing with dead men, they don’t do much good for us that way. Unless you can give us the location of Shipwreck Cove yourself?”

Jones’s eyes flashed dangerously. Alas, he couldn’t answer that question -- and so Beckett railroaded him.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that you need some oversight, Jones -- so from now on, Commodore Weasley and my associate, Patricia Rakepick, will remain on board the Dutchman...just to make sure things run smoothly.”

Jones watched as a line of soldiers escorted the Dead Man’s Chest on board his ship. He had felt the presence of his heart earlier, but it being so close made his chest feel like it was on fire, blazing with wild, storm-like emotions he hadn’t felt in years that made him want to hit something, scream in pain, and burst into tears all at the same time. It was agony, after so long, and it made Jones whirl on Beckett with a murderous expression.

“I will not have that thing on my ship!” he snarled.

“Perhaps you will not, but I will,” said Beckett.

He glanced at Rakepick. “Did the key Jones handed over work?”

Rakepick dangled the key to the Chest off of her finger with a smirk. “Aye -- I checked it before we brought it over.”

“Good.”

Beckett returned his gaze to Jones.

“From here on out, you shall answer to the Commodore and Madam Rakepick for your orders -- all orders, naturally, that come directly from me. Should you not, they will have the authority to discipline any misbehavior.”

Jones’s gaze flickered over Rakepick and then over to the shorter Navy-dressed officer standing perfectly straight beside her.

The Commodore -- yes. This was the one called “Carey Weasley” -- Black Jack Roberts’s younger sister and, as per Jones’s deal with Jack, his future crew member, Carewyn Cromwell. She truly didn’t resemble her brother much at all, Jones thought: it was little wonder no one had made a connection between her and the infamous captain of the Tower Raven. And Jones thought, it was irony at its finest, the thought that one of the people Beckett was using to restrain him was in fact destined to scrape before him instead, within the next two months.

Jones’s gaze returned to Beckett pretty quickly. He snapped his claw at his side as he loomed over the much smaller man.

“The Flying Dutchman sails as its captain commands,” he said fiercely.

“And its captain will sail it as he is commanded!” Beckett shot back, his usually detached and arrogant voice betraying some real aggression for the first time.

Jones’s crew muttered among themselves, both shocked and a bit intimidated. The leader of the East India Trading Company took several steps forward, his eyes boring into Jones with pure contempt.

“I already disposed of your pet,” he said softly. “I would hate to have to also dispose of you so quickly, when you might still have some use.”

Despite saying this, it was clear that Beckett felt no compassion for Jones’s life at all.

“This is no longer your world, Jones. There’s no place in this new world of ours for the immaterial. In short, the immaterial...has become immaterial. Best you learn that quickly, and fill the new role you’ve been dealt.”

Jones loathed having the two red-haired women and their battalion of Navy soldiers aboard. Although a lot of the time neither of them spoke to him, he hated having their eyes on his back and hated knowing that they as agents of Beckett’s were there to be his “leash.”

Rakepick flaunted her authority noticeably more than Carewyn did, dictating their course and openly contradicting Jones’s orders. About the only time Carewyn seemed to speak up was in response to the treatment of prisoners -- while the Flying Dutchman sailed back toward Port Royal, the Commodore frequently checked on the condition of the prisoners in the brig. One of Jones’s sailors even reported to him that he’d seen her bringing one of them a Bible on request. It was odd, considering that every single one of those prisoners was going to hang as soon as they arrived in Port Royal, unless they had “valuable information” to give. Unfortunately the only valuable information that Beckett wanted were the identities of all seven Pirate Lords, the significance of their “Pieces of Eight,” and the location of Shipwreck Cove, the last secret pirate haven on Earth -- and, to every prisoner’s credit, if any of them did know the answers to those questions, they refused to say...perhaps because they knew that it’d be the place the pirates who were able to escape the Dutchman’s attack would go.

Carewyn escorted the prisoners on shore to Port Royal, while Rakepick stayed behind with the troops aboard the Flying Dutchman. When she arrived, she met up with Percy, who had been in charge of the fort in her absence. The hangings started the very next day. A long, long line of prisoners all locked in irons pooled out of the brig and were walked one by one closer to the gallows. In groups of seven, they were sent up to the hangman’s noose -- men, women, even children -- all without trial and without any chance for mercy...all thanks to Lord Beckett, and by extension the King of England who had given him that power. It broke Carewyn’s heart standing on the sidelines with Percy, unable to do a thing to stop it.

Cutler Beckett arrived in Port Royal in the midst of the executions, looking incredibly smug. It took everything in Carewyn to not yank out her pistol and stick in his disgusting, weasel-like face...especially when he brought her and Percy away from the gallows to speak to them privately.

“I admit, Commodore...your plan has not produced the intelligence I wished for,” said Beckett as he considered the map in front of him. Once again, he was playing with a silver piece of eight absently in his right hand. “But it has been a very effective showcase of the British Empire’s new position on piracy. My proclamation would’ve lacked the proper teeth, without such a visible display.”

‘You’re despicable,’ Carewyn thought, hatred pulsing through her heart as a tiny boy was placed up on a barrel at the gallows.

“Thank you, sir,” she said lowly.

Percy glanced at the gallows too, and he winced at the sight of the boy standing on the barrel.

“It’s unfortunate that the information they offered was not useful to you, Lord Beckett,” he said, his voice betraying some hesitance. “I thought that the locations the boy provided for where the Dennis and the Andromeda make berth and the routes the Blackbird uses to plunder ships seemed promising...”

“You think too small, Captain,” said Beckett.

There was a rather arrogant gleam in his eye as he glanced from Percy to Carewyn, the piece of eight lingering between his pointer and middle finger.

“Chasing pirates one at a time would take up more resources and time than I have a desire to use. What I want is to bring order to this world -- and to do that, all pirates must be dealt with...either by being brought into line to serve our interests, or by being disposed of. And to do that, the pirates’ spirit must be decisively crushed.”

He glanced at the piece of eight between his fingers.

“...How much do you two know about the Pirate Brethren Court?”

Percy turned to Carewyn. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“I’ve heard of it, but I’m afraid I don’t know much.”

That was a bald-faced lie. Charles Cromwell himself had been one of the original Pirate Lords ages ago, before the curse no doubt interfered with his old duties and the Mediterranean was taken over by someone else.

“They are -- from what I understand -- representatives, who only gather whenever pirates as a whole need united leadership,” said Beckett. “They are a Parliament for piracy -- one that selects a ‘King’ to represent them all, in times of crisis.”

Percy frowned in confusion. “A King chosen by the people? I’ve never heard of such a thing...”

“Pirates do not believe in divine right,” Carewyn explained. “Even when it comes to their captains, the crew can vote to replace them at any time.”

Percy turned to Beckett. “...Then do you think the pirates will attempt to convene this ‘Brethren Court,’ in response to the attack on Tortuga?”

‘That’s definitely what I hope...’ Carewyn thought to herself.

Beckett nodded. “I am assured of it.”

Carewyn’s eyes drifted away, back up to the line of chained prisoners still being forced up onto the gallows.

“If they were to convene this ‘Court’ of theirs and select a King, my Lord,” she said softly, “it sounds like they could be a greater threat than ever. Individual pirates might be more expensive to chase one at a time...but if they were somehow able to unite, they could create a formidable army.”

Beckett raised his eyebrows. “I did not think you would fear a War, Commodore.”

“Not at all,” said Carewyn. “If the British Navy could stand toe to toe with the Spanish and French, we should more than be a match for a smattering of rag-tag galleons -- especially with the funding of the East India Trading Company behind us...”

Her eyes narrowed a bit more as they swiveled over to Beckett’s face.

“...But...if you were to advocate such a mission, you’d be at the head of the charge for it. Its success or failure would rest on your head more than any of ours...regardless of any efforts we might make to protect your reputation.”

Beckett’s lips curled up in a smile that held no warmth.

“Your concern is appreciated, Commodore Weasley,” he said, and his eyes seemed to gleam upon her. “But I assure you...I’ve waited long enough, to get the revenge I’m owed...”

He turned his focus to the piece of eight coin in his hand.

“After the injuries I’ve sustained, thanks to one of these ‘Pirate Lords,’” he said in a very soft, cold voice, “I have no intention of letting them live in peace. Wherever they decide to make their final stand...I shall be there to meet and destroy them.”

He slammed the coin down into the table with a slap of his hand, making both Carewyn and Percy flinch despite themselves.

After the hangings were complete, Carewyn returned to the Flying Dutchman, once again leaving Percy in Port Royal. The youngest Weasley brother was troubled by the thought of Carewyn being on board Jones’s ship, and she tried to reassure him as best as she was able.

“Captain Jones has to follow Lord Beckett’s orders just as much as we do,” she said softly. “Regardless of who he is, he’s been impressed into our service...it wouldn’t be in his best interest, to fight against that.”

Percy, however, didn’t look very reassured. His gaze kept flickering up to the Dutchman, even though he tried hard to look Carewyn in the face.

The Commodore offered her surrogate younger brother a smile, resting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” she reassured him gently.

Percy stared at Carewyn for a long moment, his brown eyes dark with emotion. Then, very abruptly, he actually threw out his arms, grabbing hold of her and pulling her into a full hug.

“Percy?” said Carewyn, completely taken aback.

Percy didn’t say anything -- instead he just gave her a squeeze, his chin resting on her shoulder. Although he was facing away from her, Carewyn could hear a faint shakiness in the breath he took.

“Come back safely,” he mumbled, his voice harsher than normal as he tried to keep his composure. “You hear me? Come back just as you are now.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes filled with pain as she realized what was going through Percy’s head. Yes, he was scared for her safety, but it wasn’t just because he cared about her -- it was also because, with the loss of Charlie and Bill, his real brothers...she was the only family Percy had left, here in Port Royal. The only sibling he could rely on, for emotional support.

Her heart filling with compassion and affection for the young Captain, she brought her arms around Percy tightly in return, resting a hand on the back of his head and cradling it as though she were his mother.

“We will see each other again soon, Perce,” she murmured in his ear. “I promise.”

After she and Percy parted ways, Rakepick met Carewyn at the top of the ramp heading up to the deck of the Flying Dutchman. The older woman gave Carewyn another long, analytical look as she came up on deck, which Carewyn returned with a much shorter, faintly suspicious look. She didn’t like how Rakepick looked at her. It just made Carewyn feel like she knew something...but Carewyn frankly had no idea what that “something” was. One thing Carewyn did take note of, however, was the chain she wore around her neck and tucked under the low collar of her red jacket -- the chain that no doubt held the key to the Dead Man’s Chest.

That night, after all of the officers went to sleep, Carewyn entered the Dutchman’s captain’s cabin and ordered one of her lieutenants to send Davy Jones to her. Jones was not pleased to be summoned to his own cabin, least of all by the Commodore Beckett assigned to “watch” him.

“I cannot be called like some mongrel pup,” he snapped.

“Yet you came,” said Carewyn coolly. “I appreciate the promptness.”

Jones looked incredibly surly. The ginger-haired Commodore looked at her lieutenant, who was trying hard not to cower in Jones’s shadow.

“Go ahead and return to your patrol down below with the Chest, Lieutenant,” she told him. “I’ll take it from here.”

The scared young man gave a salute and then quickly left the room. Once the door was closed, Carewyn turned up at Jones with a much grimmer look on her face, her arms crossed behind her back in standard “Naval” fashion.

“...Captain Jones...Lord Beckett has ordered that we seek out Shipwreck Cove.”

Jones’s lip curled. “I believe I’ve already made it clear that I don’t know where the damned Brethren Court meets.”

“I know you don’t. And I’m glad for it.”

Jones’s eyebrows knit together suspiciously. Carewyn’s eyes flickered absently over to the door as she listened for a moment to make absolutely sure no one was listening it.

“...I don’t want Beckett to find Shipwreck Cove,” she said lowly. “I don’t want him to send Navy ships after us once we’ve found it and destroy it. Just as I frankly don’t want you under Beckett’s rule at all.”

Jones gave a loud snort. “Haha! And I suppose this is all out of the goodness of your heart, this...sympathy you deign to spare such a pathetic wretch as me?”

His eyes hardened as he bore down on her, dwarfing her with his height.

“I don’t need your pity, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said very coldly.

Carewyn was visibly taken aback.

“Oh, aye,” said Jones with a smirk, “I know your name. A ferryman of the damned knows everyone’s true names.”

Despite how taken aback and faintly disconcerted Carewyn was, however, she didn’t seem intimidated. Instead she kept her posture straight and tall and looked Jones straight in the eye.

“Then you know why I don’t want Beckett to succeed,” she said seriously. “A lot of people I love are probably on their way to Shipwreck Cove right now. As much as I know a battle will be imminent, I want them to initiate it. I don’t want Beckett to get there before they’re ready.”

“So you aim to make a deal with me, then, Miss Commodore?” asked Jones, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“No,” said Carewyn firmly. “I just want to set you free.”

Now it was Davy Jones’s turn to look startled.

“I don’t believe in anyone being impressed into service against their will -- least of all by a captor as cruel and despicable as Cutler Beckett,” the Commodore said, feeling glad to finally let loose her bile a bit. “And if getting your heart back to you so that you can do as you please makes it that much harder for Beckett to destroy Shipwreck Cove...all the better.”

“Ah...so you think to trade my assurance that I won’t attack Shipwreck Cove for your services,” said Jones coolly. “Well, I hate to break it to you -- but I have no love for the Brethren Court myself, since they took all ownership of the seas for themselves. I daresay your dear granddaddy told you all about that...”

“‘The seas be ours and by the powers, where we will, we’ll roam’ -- yes, I know the song,” said Carewyn. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m not asking you to help the Brethren Court. I’m not asking you to help me with anything. I plan to set you free whether you want to be nice to me or not.”

Jones’s eyes narrowed as they flickered over Carewyn’s face, analyzing her critically. At last he raised his claw the way a man might raise a hand, but its size made it so it came within inches of her face.

“...Let me make sure I have this right, missie,” he said lowly. “You’re offering your assistance in restoring my heart to me...without making any sort of deal with me that benefits you?”

Carewyn nodded, not flinching at all in response to Jones’s claw getting into her personal space.

“Because you being free helps me, as it is -- by making things harder for Beckett.”

Jones considered Carewyn for a long moment. Whatever he had been expecting from the sister of Black Jack Roberts, it certainly wasn’t this. Even from a sanctimonious Navy officer, he didn’t expect this level of...well, for lack of a better word, decency...especially for someone who had showed her no kindness and she owed absolutely nothing to. He never would’ve admitted it aloud...but it impressed him.

‘Seems a bit of a shame that such a decent person should be fated for a lifetime of service aboard my ship,’ Jones thought to himself.

Perhaps because his heart was so close to him, the thought made some reluctance and guilt pick at the inside of his chest.

Pushing the feeling aside, the captain of the damned lowered his claw again. Then very, very slowly his tentacled face spread into a fuller, brighter smirk.

“...What do you have in mind?”

#potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #my art #my writing #my fanfiction #carewyn cromwell #finn mcgarry #percy weasley #patricia rakepick #yes the dennis belongs to pirate!tulip the andromeda belongs to pirate!tonks and the blackbird belongs to pirate!merula #I cannot WAIT to introduce the pirate lords #I think that'll be the next part <3 #the concepts should be a lot of fun to draw #davy-jones!finn actually turned out pretty well I think! #though he does make carey look so very very tiny XDDD #this is what happens when 5'3 carewyn is put next to 6'2 finn LOL

[glcssghosts]

{cis male; he/him; heterosexual} – 𝓂𝒾𝒸𝒽𝒶𝑒𝓁 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 who comes from disney has been spotted in sydney. they are 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃 years old and are a human. they have been called +𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝒻𝓊𝓁, +𝑜𝒷𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝒶𝓃𝓉, -𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓊𝓁𝓈𝒾𝓋𝑒. it seems like their memories are 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒸𝓉. i’ve also heard that they are a dead ringer for shawn mendes.

‘ oh, i should like very much to cross swords with some real buccaneers’ / ‘yeah, and fight pirates, too! ‘

mentions: war, death, domestic aggression/temper.

london, england, 1901-

michael is the youngest of the three darling children, younger brother to john darling and wendy darling.

the darling family resided in an upper-middle-class home in london with their loyal and much beloved dog, nana.

michael (along with john) was very much a fan of the stories wendy would recount to them before bedtime. michael quickly developed a fascination for pirates, and he and john would often jump around the beds nearly causing mahem in the nursery, re-enacting the tales of peter pan, captain hook and the lost treasure.

although it might seem so far like michael had a normal upbringing, there was one magical part of his life that was anything but normal.

one still evening, when wendy was told it would be time for her to grow up and that it would be her last night in the nursery, peter pan, the very character from wendy’s stories, came to take them to neverland.

michael, john and wendy encountered mermaids, lost boys and even the most anticipated of all — pirates! (they even got to fly).

in the end, the darling children decided not to stay in neverland. because to stay forever meant to say goodbye to their mother, their father, their home, and to nana. they returned home, but never forgot about their special journey with peter. and they always knew he and the rest of the lost boys were just past the star to the right.

when wendy returned to neverland, she did so without michael and john. for despite a childhood with little else to trouble him other than a father disposed to temper outbursts, events of the world told michael to grow up fast.

world war I. world war I at eighteen years old. he remembers the day the military service act was passed, imposing conscription of all single men 18-41. then he remembers huddling in a trench by the foggy somme river... and then nothing.

michael supposes he must have died, there, in germany, at the age of eighteen...

though michael and john might seem quite similar, they are in fact very different. while john spoke very ‘proper’ and contrived phrases, michael would be very straight forward, always telling it like it was. 

growing up with a volatile father always caused the pendulum to swing the other way for michael. he was always, instead, quite sensitive and gentle.

sydney, australia, present

michael misses his siblings and wishes to find them terribly in this new strange place he now calls ‘home’.

he works as a bookstore clerk in a bookstore/cafe in town. the place is brimmed with character (think the bookstore in ‘YOU’). he’s also studying history, and has grand aspirations to write and publish a book (fiction or non-fiction) on pirates. — and maybe, perhaps, with slight inspirations from a particular journey to neverland.

as one to be sentimental, he has a chocolate newfoundland dog called nana

#𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; info / #war mention tw #war tw #domestic aggression cw

[terrorhqs]

𝟒 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲, 𝟏𝟖𝟒𝟓

You join the Promethean after thirty days at sea as they pull into a Danish whaling station in Disko Bay after rounding the southern tip of Greenland. The weather proves far chillier than Greenhithe and London, though it is nothing compared to what the sailors claim the Arctic will prove out. On the ghost-fringes of the horizon, bergy bits and growlers float silently upon the teal sea, enclosed by a grey basalt landscape. The colors are muted, milk-white and harsh - but islets of liveliness stand out. The shore is dotted by little red houses and shacks, their breadth already half-hidden by the lava plateau. This town, Godhavn, will be the last major stop before heading into the thick of the Northwest Passage and its merciless chill, and it is here that the Promethean, along with an accompanying transport ship, disembark for a week to restock. But the reasons behind this layover extend beyond coal and supplies. The crew aboard is getting ready to hunt for fresh fish and caribou, while the guests are stepping with dainty gait to pluck their impressions from this strange new earth. During the span of this week, the transport ship that was docked in Greenland will carry live cattle to be transferred onto the Promethean, as well as a surplus of medicine, spirits and rations. After the week is over, the transport ship will set sail for England once more, and with it, official dispatches from Captain Dowling and any personal letters from the crew and guests. The next missives, the captain says, will be sent from Hong Kong.

It is on the third day that the Commander proposes an idea: One last Carnivale before they buckle down and traverse the trying Northwest Passage - for the morale of the crew, for the leisure of the guests, he suggests. After the restocking, the Promethean has enough food and supplies to sustain them for nearly five years - more than twice the expected duration of the expedition. What is one night of revelry to the plenitude that abounds in the hold?

With the captain’s express permission on the strict condition that the crew be in proper shape bright and early the next morning to scrub the deck down with holystones, preparations begin.

Upon the barren grounds, a tarp-tent is raised, high enough to dwarf Godhavn and the stars alike - inside, lighted within and without by scores of torches, stretch canvas walls dyed in vibrant colors, sectioned and painted with images reflecting each theme. Brightly clad and strangely garbed figures with papier-mache faces twirl around with comet tails of gold-cloth, and the whole world yields to these fantasies. Pirates with masks of blue death, unicorns made from tin foil and brass, generals of Napoleon’s army, members of the Greek Chorus filled the space. Beside the entrance, a large trunk of costumes, masks, and props lay waiting. “Feel free to mix and match,” says a satyr with a paper fan. Along the walls are tables lined with punch bowls, from which princesses in feline masks and a Lady Brittania ladled the liquor into teacups. Where the cooks prepare beef tongue, smoked hams, and Gloucestershire cheeses for the officers and esteemed guests - with thin portions of roasted caribou, vegetables medley, and canned fruit for the rest - the tarp grows black with oven-smoke and humid with steam and scent. In the midst of all this...

𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐔𝐂𝐇?

✹ TAROT READINGS: One of the smaller tents houses a slender figure hidden behind a cloak and cloudy mystique - The Clairvoyant. The fortune teller’s tent is dimly lit, the only light permitted in is that of the undulating torch outside. Incense permeates the air - you sit, and a shot of whiskey is placed at your elbow. Have your cards or palms read or, if you’re feeling particularly brave, you may ask The Clairvoyant to hold a seance - alone or in a group. Don’t worry; the Chaplain is there to oversee the turning of this blasphemous tide. Do you call upon the spirits? 

✹ THEATRE: A short walk away, sectioned off by stacked barrels and sheer sheets and hanging crepe paper, is a makeshift stage surrounded by wooden chairs hauled off the ship’s messes. Seamen with painted faces wielding props and steins brimming with strong grog reenact one of The Songbird’s operas in admirable falsettos. One might swear one of the men has nabbed one of her dresses and donned it just for the show. Loud music blares from a mechanical music player cranked by a wood sprite. Do you sing along?

✹ HALL OF GAMES: In another tent, racing horses painted into the canvas oversee gamblers engrossed in card games, ‘hazard’, and ‘chequers’. Tobacco are the prizes to be won, but some bet their favorite books or their week’s ration of chocolate and biscuits. The Veteran is seen taking the hide off several sailor’s backs at the card table. If one prefers to bet on horses, there are those who eagerly volunteer to don hobby horses and race laps around the tent to raucous cheers and jeers. Chiefly among these, the Scion leads the tracks as would-be winner. Do you make merry? 

✹ TENT OF WONDERS: The intricate workings of a maze, but rendered picturesque enough to rival the best (and strangest) of palazzos. A projector, the most recent invention of the time, is casting fragments of wonder upon the walls - silhouettes that leave the seer gasping, morphing reality into a dreamlike land. Costumed crew and miscreant guests will jump at you from behind the scenery and boxes, and you catch sight of the Noble, a laughing blur racing past,  just as you think you are nearing the maze’s end. The Lover is overheard saying there’s no maze quite like the court of England - but other sailors assure you the prize at the end is worth finding. Do you discover what the center leads to? 

✹ TOPSY-TURVY SOVEREIGN: The stage of a contest, only not one of skill or mettle, but rather of the intrepid bravery it takes to render oneself a fool. For it is this that makes the target of this competition: who can play upon the highest jest - from pranks to games of imitation, form singing to hopping on a hobby-horse - earns their just reward (the Doctor, of course, standing by should he be needed). Whoever will stake the most refined act as royal buffoon is named topsy-turvy sovereign of the Carnivale. Do you earn your crown?

welcome to terrorhqs’ very first event! this event will start TODAY, 6/3, and extend until 6/19 when the second part of the event will be dropped. this also marks our very first task: post either a graphic of your muse’s carnivale finery OR write a diary entry containing their thoughts on godhvn and the carnivale! if you’re feeling especially ambitious, you may certainly do both! we ask that members keep their threads related to the carnivale event and to tag their task with THQTASK. happy writing!

#thqevent

[lumassen]

Kinda dumb au but pirate Monaco (im thinking Francis' first mate who really like booty ;)) and Mermaid (or siren) Seychelles. Love your writing thanks for reading my ask

Hiya! Thanks so much for your ask, I LOVED writing this little AU! It ended up being a little longer than I wanted it to be, and the end might be a little abrupt, but I really enjoyed writing Monaco (Lucille) as a pirate! Hopefully you like it! :) If anyone else would like me to write them something, drop me an ask!

The waves parted along the bow as The Elusive finally broke into calmer waters. The South Atlantic could be unforgiving and had claimed many a ship in its history, but over the past few days it had been no match for The Elusive.

Magnificent sails cracked in the wind and the sea foamed in the wake of the great ship as it slipped through the water, now making good time and perfectly on course, thanks to its Captain. She was as beautiful as her ship was. There were many ships that sailed the seven seas, but hardly any compared to Captain Lucille and her crew. At first she’d been looked down upon, sneered and spat at, and outright ignored simply because she was a lady. But a skilled swordsman she was, and soon most rival ships around the globe had come to fear her. Dressed in the finest silks and feathers that gold could buy, at first glance one might only see elegance, grace and beauty, but underneath all the decadence was a true pirate, so much so that many swore instead of blood, it was saltwater ran through her veins.

Long, braided hair the colour of barley ran down her back as she stood proudly at the helm and took in a deep breath of the sea air she loved so much. Now that The Elusive was safely out of the storm that had engulfed the South Atlantic in the past hours she could finally relax after bringing her ship and her crew to safety once again. The deck was an inch or so deep in saltwater, clumps of seaweed and driftwood debris strewn everywhere from the 10 foot waves that had crashed up the sides of the ship. The Captain could only hope that too much hadn’t seeped below to the quarters or the hold. She was soaked to the skin as she had stayed at the helm all through the night to ensure that they came out of the storm in one piece. Her wide brimmed ostrich feather hat and velvet breeches the colour of deep wine were no doubt ruined, but such things were replaceable whereas a valued crew was not.

Lucille would bet her life that she had the most formidable crew on the sea and each member of the ships company had proved themselves worthy and pledged loyalty to their Captain in many ways. Her Gunners were her best men, some of whom she had stolen from a rival ship that had abandoned their previous captain just for the chance to serve Lucille after she had plundered them and looted all of their riches in a single attack.

Her Sailing Master was known across land and sea for his extensive skills when it came to route plotting, navigation and co-ordination. She had sailed all the way to England and paid a pretty penny to persuade him to come aboard The Elusive. The day he finally bowed beneath her heeled boot and pledged to serve her was one of her greatest triumphs.

Finally, her First Mate and Quartermaster was someone who she trusted with her life, and that was hard to do if you were a wealthy and strong Captain with such a strong ship as she was where even your crew mates might slit your throat in your sleep. Francis Bonnefoy was the closest person that Lucille had to a family. Dragged up on the streets of coastal Cannes, France as an orphan, Lucille had to fight her way to glory and Francis had been by her side every step of the way. Although he was 8 years older than she was, Lucille and Francis had always been equal.

Francis was cunning and clever, and could always manage to swindle his way out of paying for bread at the bakery so that they could fill their stomachs, and Lucille was brave and had her wits about her, somehow managing to get away with hitching rides on the back of a horse and cart to save their aching feet or swipe some jewels from an unsuspecting rich man’s pocket in a crowd. Francis had taken Lucille under his wing, expecting nothing in return from her apart from her company. She was a pretty girl and as they were growing up as nothing but sewer rats he could have done anything he wanted with her. He could have sold her away as a slave or chambermaid, or forced her to marry him and they could have crawled through society together, but instead Francis had let Lucille lead him, and he followed in her every footstep. The belief he had in her strength had paid off when the young girl grew into a young woman, and one day she tricked a fisherman into giving her his boat in exchange for a night with her. The two of them had stolen away in the night out into the open sea after leaving the fisherman with a good blow to the head out cold in a run-down brothel somewhere.

Some 15 years and a lot of trading, clawing and plundering later, they were now wealthy pirates in charge of the Mediterranean.

“Mon trésor, I can man the helm for a while. Manon has lain out some dry clothes in your chambers for you.” Francis spoke up from behind Lucille, and she looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze.

He looked at her as salt water sprayed up the side of the ship and her hair blew in the sudden gust of wind that the wave brought with it, her eyes shining and her face alive with the thrill of being out on the water at the helm of her ship. Francis had always known that he’d loved Lucille, and just looking at his Captain as she stood before him, the trying sun shining through the breaking storm clouds casting rays of light onto her, he felt that love now more than ever.

Quickly she took one hand from the wheel and removed her sopping wet hat from her head and took her braid out, shaking her hair free.

“But we’re out of the thick of it now, and we’re so close I can smell it. I’ll soon dry in this breeze.” She said with a grin, then turned back to the helm and gripped the wheel with both hands, steering starboard slightly. Francis smiled at the back of her and shook his head, bending down to pick up her discarded hat from where it lay on the desk at her feet, its feathers’ sea soaked beyond repair.  

The Elusive and its crew had set off from the coast of France a few weeks ago in search of an island somewhere in the Indian Ocean that sail master Arthur had overheard some scallies talking about in hushed tones over a pint one evening. He’d sat in the pub for hours and worked out a map, listening as best he could to their talk about how to apparently find it until he’d been shooed out into the night once the pub closed its doors. Whenever they were docked and on shore, Lucille would send Arthur out to scope out as much information as he could about riches and treasures that were there for the taking if you were brave enough. As well as being a skilled sail master, Arthur was resourceful and could force words right out of a person’s mouth, even if he had to hold a dagger to their throat. He was ruthless, sly, and quite frankly strikingly handsome, not having any trouble taking people to bed to entice them to reveal any secrets that they knew.

Judging by the tropical storm that they had passed through, Captain Lucille and her crew weren’t far from their destination. If Arthur was right and the scallies from the pub weren’t talking nonsense, then an undiscovered island of riches and otherworldly wonders were in their wake.

Francis hung Lucilles hat on a hook in the mast pole in an attempt to dry it out in the warm breeze, then tied his blond hair back with a ribbon before peering over the edge of the ship. The waters that lapped against the hull were clear and blue, a mighty comparison to the cold and dark waters of the Atlantic that had stretched around The Elusive as far as its crew’s eyes could see for the past few weeks.

“Land ahoy, Captain!” the watchman called from his station atop the mast.

“Francis! Man the helm!” Lucille shouted, already half way across the deck by the time Francis had turned away from the edge of the ship.

She swung herself up onto the forecastle deck at the very front of the ship in a swift motion, using one of the loose sail ropes to pull herself up and unclasped her telescope from its sheath at her hip. Raising it to her eye, the Captain looked out over the ocean in front of her, and sure enough, there it was. Land, at last. Wonder began to well inside of her just as it always did when she had made another successful voyage, and she never tired at the thrill of the adventure. All they had to do now was land ashore. Her polished leather boots hit the wooden lower deck hard as she jumped down and made her way back over to the helm.

“Bring her in steady Francis; we’re only a league or so from shore.” Lucille said with a grin, and then turned her attention to three of the gunners who had emerged from below deck as a result of the cries of land ahoy, ready and waiting for their Captains orders. They worked on lowering the sails and slowing down The Elusive as they neared the shore, and Lucille took a good swing and hit at the large gong the ship used to signal to any other rival ships of their arrival.

“Captain Lucille, you’d better take a look ahead!” the watchman called again from atop the mask, waving down at Lucille and pointing to the shore ahead of them as it grew nearer. Leaning over the side of the ship, Lucille brought her telescope to her eye once more, her breath hitching in her throat as the lens focused on what she could only imagine the watchman intended for her to look at.

“What is it? What do you see?” Francis asked as he hurried to her side, peering at the shore before them. Lucille didn’t say a word and just slowly passed the telescope to Francis in a stunned silence. It took a moment for him to focus, but Lucille could feel him tense beside her once he’d spotted it.

“Mon dieu, is that really a… siren?” he choked out, hardly believing the words that left his own lips as he lowered the telescope. It was unmistakeably a Siren, lain out on a rock only a few feet from the shore.

Every pirate that had ever sailed the seas knew the legends and myths about Sirens and Merfolk, and every pirate knew that they were dangerous and were probably the last thing you ever saw if you came across one. Lucille’s mouth had gone dry and her voice rasped as she cried out for the crew to lower the anchors and stop their course for shore at once, and she watched as calmly as she could as her men got to work. If the tales and legends were true, then the company of The Elusive were in trouble. As far as Lucille knew, she was the only female Captain that sailed the Mediterranean at least, and possibly the majority of the seven seas, and she and her galley maid Manon were the only women on board. In the legends there was never any mention of Sirens effects on a woman, but that could simply be because Lucille was not meant to be aboard a ship, let alone be its captain according the tradition and society and so women had never been included in the tales.

“Captain, we’re surrounded by them,” the watchman said as he jumped down from the ladder on the mast, his expression full of concern.

Lucille looked to Francis for guidance, even though she had a plan that was forming in the back of her mind.

“I have an idea, and you have to trust me.” She said, looking deep into his eyes. She could see the fear in them despite him holding his head high. Francis shook his head,

“I’ve always trusted you, but now you’ve made me nervous.” He said, his voice hesitant.

Hearing the commotion, most of the crew had come up from below deck, and they all stood around their Captain, too scared to even cast their gaze over the side of the ship should it fall upon a Siren.

“I’m not going to let my ship and my crew sink at the hands of these creatures we all thought to be a myth until now,” she began, tying her hair back into a ponytail and away from her face, “so unless any of you boys have a better idea, I need you to hoist me down in the rowboat.” Lucille finished, trying to remain as absolute as she could when her crew gasped around her and Francis grabbed her arm.

“You can’t be serious. I know that we’re pirates and you’ve fought many enemies for us, but those foes have been human.” Francis pleaded, realising what it was that Lucille planned to do, and the crew nodded and murmured in agreement.

Lucille sighed heavily in exasperation as she shook Francis’s grip from her arm. Her heart was in her mouth, and she was terrified of what creatures lay beneath the waves, but she couldn’t reveal that to her crew. She was their Captain, and she was going to save them.

After much persuasion and the raising of her voice, Arthur and Francis finally began to lower the ropes that held Lucille and the wooden rowboat that she was sat in to the hull of The Elusive. They kept their eyes averted away from the ocean as they did so for fear that they would catch the eye of a Siren in the waters and throw themselves overboard if it was so much as to will them to. Even if Lucille’s plan didn’t work, they were probably going to die out here in the middle of the Indian Ocean anyway, but they would have rather died with their Captain at least, as they were bound to do as her crew.

Francis’ hands were trembling as he held the ropes, and he wanted to do nothing more than to pull his Captain back up on deck, but he couldn’t. He had allowed Lucille to go down to greet the Sirens in an attempt to make peace with them and spare their lives on one condition, which was that if anything seemed to be going wrong she would signal to him and he would dive in after her. To Lucille, it didn’t seem like a good plan or a good rescue attempt at all, because as soon as Francis hit the water he would likely be lured to his death by the sirens anyway, but she couldn’t refuse his request. If she were going to die, she wanted to die with Francis by her side.

Clutching her crossbow to her breast, Captain Lucille tensed as the boat hit the sea and rocked a little in the wake of the waves that crashed back and forth against the hull of her ship. Hastily, she un-hooked the ropes that connected the rowboat to it, then grabbed an ore and pushed away from the shadow of The Elusive before she could have second thoughts. Looking out across the vast waters that now surrounded her as she rowed out, Lucille’s eyes narrowed, searching for any trace of movement from the depths below. Heart still drumming in her chest, she could feel how her pulse quickened at every sound, every call of a gull in the sky above, every creak that the boat made beneath her.

Then, all of a sudden, a Siren emerged out from under the water just inches from the boat, and stared up into Lucille’s face as she scrambled to reach for her crossbow from where she laid it down beside her. Compared to Lucille’s rugged beauty the Siren was otherworldly, and she was transfixed. Its hair was as dark as jet, as were its eyes as they bored into the blue of Lucille’s. Her body felt as though it had turned to stone as she took in the angular features of the Sirens face as it clutched the side of the boat, pulling itself up so that it was now only inches from Lucille’s face. She noticed the darkness of its skin and scales, and the gills that opened and closed on either side of its neck. As it gazed at her, Lucille found that she couldn’t look anywhere else, her muscles refusing to move and her eyes suddenly unable to blink even as a scaled hand reached out to grasp her hair. Perplexed, the Siren ran Lucille’s long hair through webbed fingers, the tip of its tail rising out of the water, curling in curiosity. Although Lucille knew that she was caught under the Siren’s spell, something about this being in front of her didn’t seem like the tales she’d heard of ugly, half human half fish creatures that would sing sweetly whilst pulling you under the waves to your death.

Without warning, it suddenly felt as though an invisible bubble had burst around her, and her body slumped forward as she quickly regained control over her muscles again. Hastily, she looked over her shoulder and back to her ship, waving to Francis and Arthur and her crew who all hung over the sides, signalling that she was okay. Then she felt the boat jolt and clung onto the oars to steady herself. The siren had grabbed hold of the edge of the rowboat and was pulling Lucille toward the shore and out of the deep water.

“What are you doing? Where are you taking me?” Lucille asked, panic rising in her chest a little, but she tried to swallow it back down again, knowing that the Siren probably couldn’t understand her. More of them had appeared now, their heads just breaking the surface of the water as they swam alongside the boat.

“You are not like the others,” One of them said, its voice soft and melodic, “We will not harm you.”

Lucille thought she must have imagined it, but then the Siren who had first approached her that was pulling her in the boat spoke,

“Many have sought our treasure, yet none have ever been worthy of it.” It said, and the boat came to a halt a few metres shy of the shore. Lucille watched as the other Sirens gathered around the darker haired Siren who had last spoken and they all reached out toward it, placing their hands over any part of its skin that wasn’t already covered by another’s until a ring of bright light began to glow around them. Lucille shielded her eyes from its intensity as it grew brighter and brighter, and once it had faded and she opened her eyes again she saw that the Siren now had a pearl necklace in its upturned palms, holding it out towards her.

“We Sirens can be found in all of the seven seas, just like you pirates. But you are not just a pirate, you are like us. To protect yourself and your crew while exploring our seas, wear this necklace. Your crew is made up of men, and most Sirens will not be as understanding as we are, but if you wear this your ship and its crew will be protected from our wrath should you ever stray too close again.”

The pearls were cold and smooth as the Siren pressed the necklace into Lucille’s hands,

“They call me Seychelles, and we are the Sirens of this isle. May we now part as friends, for you are like us.”

Lucille closed her fingers tightly around the necklace as she grasped it as a tear rolled down her cheek. Although she loved her crew, most men of the sea were not like they were. She’d been plundered many times just because other ships and their crews thought her to be weak or an easy target, but it was more at a loss to them as each time she rose again even stronger. She had often considered cutting her hair short and trying to disguise herself as a male but every time fought against herself. At a loss for words, Lucille didn’t have time to speak or say anything to the Sirens before the disappeared back under the waves as quickly as they had appeared, leaving her sat aboard her little rowboat.

She was a woman of the sea, just like the Sirens.

#aph monaco #aph france #aph seychelles #pirate AU #my writing #bigfrogenergy #I don't know why it's all under keep reading ugh

[mauraudmore]

🌙 — ALL ABOARD ! The HMS PROMETHEAN welcomes ( Violet Eliza Hale Bell) as ( The Marauder ). They are ( 23 years old & cisfemale ) and might be painted as ( SOPHIE TURNER ). They come here as a ( crew ). Their specific occupation is that of ( cook ). When you strike up an acquaintance, address them as ( she/her ). Their deeds on land precede their arrival — people say they are known to be ( vivacious, decisive, witty ) but ( ruthless, violent, callous ) when the tide turns. Their purpose aboard falls in line with ( providing money for her sick mother and little brother, while still making the most of life / finding the completed map of the arctic passage and bringing it to the gang that wants her dead, in exchange for her and her twin brother’s life ).

Her cover story is a careful concoction of lies, truth, and half of each:

She says that she is from London but her parents are from Manchester, hence the London-Manchester mix of an accent. She grew up poor, in a bad neighborhood. She watched violence happen in front of her but she never joined in. She didn’t have it in her. Her mother was very strict and her father was in and out for most of her life. She has a little brother, Ray. They’ve contracted a disease and she needs money for medicine. That’s why she’s here.

Are you wondering where the rest of the details are? Well, she’s wondering the same thing too. You’ll both find out when you ask.

Below is a sweet little summary of her present and some of her (actual) past. And if you’re looking for her complete history…now that is a much longer and grimmer tale: FULL HISTORY HERE.  

Her Present:

Welcome to the wonderful and terrible world of Violet Bell: the woman who is in charge of feeding you and making sure you don’t get scurvy! Don’t worry, she may be lying a little but she is very dedicated and actually good at her job. Mostly because she needs a map of the Arctic Passage and this ship needs to finish its voyage in order to do that. Can’t finish a voyage if the crew is all dead from starvation and disease.

She does her best to initially present as a shrinking violet. She tells herself to not make any noise, keep her head down. Be polite. Be respectful. Just make it to the end of the voyage and then steal the map from under their noses.

But she can’t help what she actually is: a feisty thing, brimming and overflowing with life that must be lived. She should be brooding and dark, what with all the hardship she’s endured. But her hard life is what makes her reach for things that thrill, even for just a moment.

She is quick to reach for a drink, offer a playful wink, and make a suggestive remark. She is bold and unreserved. Life is too damn short to be a shrinking violet.

And as more insidious incidents occur in this ice hellscape, the more her true ferocious nature claws out of hiding. She will not die here. She refuses to die.

Her Past:

She was one of two twins born to a mercilessly violent father and a helpless mother in the Red Banks slums of Manchester, England.

When she is 13 years old, her father goes into a rage and attacks her brother (Lawrence), injuring his hands. The damage could have been worse but before it can, she fights back against her father and books it out of their childhood home.

One day on the street and the twins are helped by a man named Benedict (after the eggs, yes). He gives them a place to stay, food, and medical assistance for a week. He also gives them some advice: when on the streets, take what you need or die.

The twins grow up homeless and in poverty, but they learn the dance of survival. They become thieves. Concrete pirates. Marauders.

They found a gang called The Breakers and all is well until the rest of her crew (without her knowledge) sticks up a card game run by the most powerful and dangerous gang in the city: The Red Devils

Benedict (now the leader of the Red Devils) gives a 20 year old Violet the ‘choice’ to either kill her members or have the Devils kill all of them, her included.

There are three other members: her brother Lawrence, Bitty, and Aisle. She kills Bitty and Aisle but spares Lawrence.

She gives him a ticket to New York City and tells him to run.

She makes the mistake of giving in to his whims and setting a meeting place, three years from that point.

She flees to London and gets a job as a dishwasher. Eventually, through hard work and (surprise) dedication, she moves up the ranks to cook. She still steals and mugs and stuff because life is rough and shit keeps happening that she needs money for. And also maybe she is super underpaid.

She goes to the meeting point she set with Lawrence 3 years prior. And Benedict shows up. She knows she is royally screwed so when he gives her a proposition (steal a map of the arctic passage in exchange for your life), of course she takes it. Wouldn’t you?

#thqintro #history #the past #tw child abuse #tw implied domestic violence

[hunteroftheseas]

–– Chance Meeting

     London wasn’t Hunter’s favorite place to be.  Crowded with people, egos as tall as their hair. Gentlemen in waistcoats bossing around men in livery or ladies forcing boxes upon boxes onto their maids while they did their shopping. In the main thoroughfare it was almost quaint. Little stone rowhouses filled to the brim with servants and nobility enjoying a month in the city before they returned to country homes for the Summer. Hunter didn’t spend much time in the quaint part of London, he wasn’t exactly welcome among gentleman, at least not publicly. 

     Hunter stuck to the docks and the areas surrounding them, where the air smelled like rotting fish and feces. Usually he made his trades and immediately boarded his ship The Predator again, he hated being stuck on land, surrounded by strangers. But his men had all but begged to go to the whorehouses and stock up on ale while in town and who was he to deny them after the successes they’ve had this past voyage? Even Gunner was out celebrating with the men and his Bursar was at straight-laced as they came, rarely touching any alcohol. 

    He had heard tell of a potential client down at a tavern near the central part of the city. Hunter wasn’t one to waste time and he figured he might as well get work and play done in one go. That was how he found himself dressed up in gentlemen’s clothing and a top hat, attempting to blend in, inside a drafty tavern. It was relatively empty save for a couple of men playing chess at a table near the front door and a couple sitting opposite each other, clearly in a tense silence. 

     Hunter sat down at the bar and called for a drink, when the beer was put in front of him, he slipped the owner a token with his sigil on it. The man did a double take as he realized the customer in front of him was the Hunter. The owner winked at him, sliding the token into his pocket and slyly replacing it with a folded up piece of paper, no doubt containing all that he needed from the pirate on his next trip. Hunter often picked up odd jobs like this man’s, where people sought his aid in getting spices or other substances from far off countries that wouldn’t sell to England. If they weren’t out of the way, he’d pick some up on his trips and sell them at a stark premium. 

     He slipped the paper into the inner pocket of his waistcoat and gave the man a dismissive nod before returning to his drink. He knew he should be with his men, raising morale and getting drunk with them, but he relished any semblance of peace and quiet he could get. It was difficult to find any when surrounded by boisterous men and boys or whores. 

     As he gulped down his drink, he heard a commotion from the opposite end of the tavern, followed by the sharp sound of hand slamming across a face and the high pitched shriek of a woman in pain. He bolted to his feet, anger rising into his chest. Hunter grabbed the man by the shirt, throwing him against the wall.

“What the bloody hell?” The man spit in his face. 

“Didn’t your nanny ever teach you not to hit a lady?” Hunter slammed him back into the wall.

The tavern owner came bounding out from the back, rushing in between them trying to pull Hunter off of the man, “Hey, hey, hey, no fighting in my bar!”

“All I’m doing is teaching him a lesson, since clearly he never got one.” Hunter shoved the owner aside, crowding into the man’s space, he reared back and punched him in the nose, a satisfying crunch coming with it. 

The man pushed at him, but Hunter was stronger and he had him cornered.

“Hunter! Stop! The woman’s his betrothed.”

“So?”

“He’s a patron of this establishment and a highpaying one at that, who am I to tell him how to discipline his future wife.”

Hunter was aghast, “Discipline? Are you serious? She’s a human being, not a dog.”

This time the man spoke up, hand held up to his nose to catch the blood dripping out. “You heard the man, you bloody animal. She’s mine to deal with and if you don’t leave now, I’ll be calling the police.”

For the first time, he locked eyes with the woman. He grit his teeth in determination when he glimpsed already bruising skin. 

#001

[sylibane]

I wanted to talk about my WIP and saw this as a tag meme, but I don’t feel like waiting for someone to wait to tag me and am doing it anyway.

(If anyone knows the source of this, please let me know so I can credit them)

WIP: The Engine of the Ocean

1. Describe the plot in one sentence?

In a world where everyone has inborn magic, a group of unlikely allies travel from island to island, looking for a way to stop the monster that threatens the population of the sea.

2. Pick one sight, smell, sound, feel and taste to describe the aesthetic for your novel.

Sight: A lighthouse against the storm.

Smell: Salt and ozone in the air.

Sound: The voice of something liven hidden among the whirs of machinery.

Feel: Polished brass and wood.

Taste: Something fishy, with just a hint of something metallic and burned.

3. Which 3+ songs would make up a playlist for the novel?

I actually have 50 song playlist, so here are just some of the main ones:

Salt (Eivør)

Lightning (Fireflight)

The Wolf (SIAMES)

Jenny (Studio Killers)

Witch (Karmina)

Endless (The Birthday Massacre)

4. What’s the time period and location in which the novel takes place?

It’s an alternate universe, but the vibe is kind of that of New England in the late 19th century.

5. Are there any former titles you’ve considered but discarded?

Clarity, and the Witches of the Whaler Sea.

6. What’s the first line of your novel?

When humanity was new to this world, a girl came to the shore of the sea.

7. What’s a line of dialogue you’re particularly proud of?

Well, I was committed to this bluff now. “Because you can’t afford that. Someone else is here. Unless the one knocking things over upstairs is a friend of yours?”

Instead of fear as I’d hoped, Frost and Salzbach’s faces just showed confusion. “You know he’s a cat, right?” Frost said after a moment.

“What? No, not your cat, the other person! The one in gray!”

8. Which line from the novel most represents it as a whole?

The light of the heart will guide you across the water, a small, high voice said in the back of my head. Underneath us stretched the nervous system of circuits of the laboratory; while I could feel some dark areas, much of it was alive.

(Technically two lines, but whatever.)

9. Who are your characters’ faceclaims? 

I don’t usually use faceclaims, so I don’t have any here.

10. Sort your character(s) into Hogwarts houses.

Jenny – Slytherin

Clarity – Gryffindor

Justice – Hufflepuff

Silence – Hufflepuff

Dr. Morales – Ravenclaw

Kaito – Slytherin

11. Which character’s name do you like the most?

Either Jenny Lamar or Kaito Shimizu, since I managed to get multiple meanings into their names.

12. Describe each character’s daily outfit.

Jenny – teal long pirate-style coat over overalls and a button-down shirt, tall boots, black gloves, wide-brimmed hat.

Clarity – long red dress with an apron, hair coif, and darker red cape (will get another outfit partway through the story that I’m still working out).

Silence – same as Clarity, but with a brown dress and no cape (second outfit is a shorter yellow dress with a pinafore and stripy stockings).

Justice – stereotypical “Pilgrim” outfit, but with brown as the dominate color instead of black (which would be too expensive) and quickly loses the hat.

Dr. Morales – big patched-up overcoat over a sweater and trousers, green and magenta scarves, knit gloves, a pinkish headscarf that she tries to tie her hair up with, glasses.

Kaito – a waistcoat with built-in belts to hold all his potion vials, blue coat worn like a cape, big gray gloves, flat cap, trousers and boots; always has a change of formal clothes ready.

13. Do any characters have distinctive birthmarks/scars?

Jenny lost her right arm below the elbow in accident as a child and now has a prosthetic. Kaito also has some scars, but can keep them hidden beneath his clothes.

14. Which character most fits a character trope?

Not one of the main characters, but one of the main antagonists fits the pirate queen archetype? Is that an archetype?

15. Which character is the best writer? Worst?

Dr. Morales is best, if only by virtue of having an academic background and having to write papers that are at least somewhat coherent. Silence is eleven and from an area with few paper resources or education available, especially for women, so she’s worst.

16. Which character is the best liar? Worst?

Definitely Kaito for best, though he prefers the “technically true” school of deception. Probably Justice for worst, as he generally believed the misinformation he was spreading.

17. What character swears the most? Least?

Probably Jenny for most? There’s not a huge amount of profanity in this. Either Justice or Silence for least.

18. Which character has the best handwriting? Worst?

Kaito for best, Silence for worst.

19. Which character is most like you? Least like you?

Partway through the original draft, I realized Dr. Morales was me but older and more extraverted and went with it. Though Jenny’s kind of become a receptacle for my frustrations with writer’s/artist’s block. Probably Justice for least.

20. Which character would you most like to be?

Kaito if only because he has the coolest powers (creating potions he can imbue with other things’ properties, including abstract concepts like languages)

I’m not going to tag anyone because I don’t want to put that pressure on them, but if you want to, that would be awesome!

#wip questions #wip tag questions game #tag game #oc questions #writblr #long post #syli's ocs #the engine of the ocean

[dazebrasrecs]

James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann (POTC)

This list will be updated.

Between pages (between sheets) by SecondStarOnTheLeft

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: "I found it in the library, in our library - it's full of the filthiest things, and I think that we ought to try every single one of them." // Elizabeth discovers a book brimming over with interesting ideas, and James is only too willing to indulge her curiosity.

Choosing a Side by  artemismuse

Length: 1k / Rating: G / Genre: Romance/action / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  ames says yes instead of no aboard the Dutchman.

Circling Fate by  artic_fox

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Length: 14k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Elizabeth will be the death of him, but he thinks perhaps he is already condemned.

Courting a Swann by  june7rose

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (if anyone can find further chapters, please PM me)

Length: 27k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance/AU / Warnings: Violence, injury

Summary:  It would be a long few years of hard work for them both, for he imagined, growing up would be the hardest work of all for Elizabeth Swann.  He walked on with a purpose and with a spring in his step.  Truly it would be a difficult wait for her, but James was carved of patience, hard work, and duty.  For once, there was a purpose to his work, other than protecting Port Royal; now he had something, no, he had someone, to devote his life to.

Dance Card by  longlostblue

Length: 1k / Rating: T / Genre: Angst / Warnings: Major character death

Summary: “The captain shall have my quarters.” Elizabeth stays in James’ cabin aboard the Flying Dutchman, and finds something surprising among his personal effects.

Destinies Entwined by sleepylotus

Length: 33k / Rating: E / Genre: Action/Drama / Warnings: Violence

Summary:  Ruined by a pirate and a hurricane, former Commodore James Norrington lays in wait on Tortuga with one last objective: kill Jack Sparrow. But when Elizabeth Swann arrives on the scene, a fugitive from justice and recently parted from her fiancé, James cannot help but offer her his aid.

Fresh as a bridegroom by snowbryneich

Length: 32k / Rating: M / Genre: AU/Drama / Warnings: Major character death

Summary:  AU from the End of Curse of the Black Pearl in which Elizabeth and Will did seize an opportune moment but Will dies from an infection in his cut hand on the way home leaving Elizabeth in need of a husband and father for their coming child - but not too appreciative of having one when James honours their engagement. (Inspired by the ITV show Breathless)

Here is a truth (here is another truth) by SecondStarOnTheLeft

Length: 2k / Rating: M / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Here is a truth: James Norrington loves his wife, but he is completely incapable of believing that she might return the compliment.  Here is another truth: Elizabeth Norrington, née Swann, is a much more patient woman than she has ever been given credit for.

A Near Miss by snowbryneich

Length: 1k / Rating: G / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  For the prompt #15 I Hope We Don’t Get Caught Kiss - missing scene set during Curse of the Black Pearl

One Last Adventure by sleepylotus

Length: 8k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Newlyweds Elizabeth and James return to England for their honeymoon and to visit his family’s estate. Somewhere along the way, Elizabeth comes to realize that Commodore Norrington just might possess the key to her heart after all…

Recovery by snowbryneich

Length: 49k / Rating: M / Genre: Drama/AU / Warnings: Rape/Non-con, Underage, minor character death, violence

Summary:  The Black Pearl gets to Port Royal when Elizabeth and Will are fifteen and the kidnapping goes much worse. Ruined by Pirates - James offers to restore Elizabeth's reputation.

A Remedy against Sin by snowbryneich

Length: 21k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance/Drama / Warnings: Misogyny

Summary:  Elizabeth doesn't get kidnapped by pirates - but having one strip her to her underwear in public is just as damaging to her reputation. An au based on the fact Elizabeth would have been ruined by societies standards from the instant Jack pulled her dress and corset off her in public. Luckily a ruined reputation is not enough to put off James Norrington - not that Elizabeth appreciates that.

Requiem by  artic_fox

Length: 4k / Rating: M / Genre: Drama / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  In between scenes from Elizabeth's discovery of Norrington in Tortuga until the Isle Cruces.

Second Chance AU  by HolmesFan

Length: 123k / Rating: E / Genre: AU/Drama / Warnings: Emetophobia, major character death, violence, injury

Summary:   James Norrington does not fear death. And when it arrives, he allows it to take him without a fight. But the universe has different plans. Just as he's slipping away, final thoughts turning to the woman who never returned his love, James awakes to find he is very much alive. Time has rolled back like a scroll, and it is seven years in the past.Faced with the prospect of reliving his life with the knowledge of what's to come, James resolves to change his fate. Perhaps he can find happiness after all. More importantly, this could be the promise of redemption.

This Weight upon my Heart by snowbryneich

Length: 53k / Rating: E / Genre: Drama/Romance / Warnings: Injury

Summary:  A blow to the head at sea costs James two years of memory. He does not remember marrying Elizabeth or the two years of distant married life they have shared.

A Worthy Opponent by HolmesFan

Length: 11k / Rating: E / Genre: Humor/Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   Elizabeth Swann is eighteen when she leaves England to join her father in Port Royal. She's ready for a change of pace from the boring society she's grown accustomed to. But upon arrival, she meets her father's friend Captain James Norrington, and it becomes clear she's in for more excitement than she anticipated. Fortunately, Elizabeth is ever so fond of a challenge.

#norribeth #pirates of the caribbean #fanfic #potc #James Norrington #elizabeth swann #fanfiction #Fic #fic rec

[sebeth]

Crisis On Infinite Earths #3

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

  The Monitor conducts tests on the child of Earth-3 Alexander Luthor and Lois Lane Luthor.  He discovers the child consists of positive and negative matter consisting in one form: “For you somehow bridge this universe and the universe which threatens to swallow us all.”

Harbinger and Psycho-Pirate meet with their mysterious master.  He orders the death of the Luthor child.

Earth-1, the future: I’m guessing it’s the 25th or 3oth century.  I can’t remember which one Iris was born in.  Yes, Iris Allen was from the future.  The Tornado Twins (Barry & Iris’s children) fought with the Legion of Super-Heroes (30th century) but I have the 25th century stuck in my head.  Flash (Barry) is racing around the massive destruction of Central City due to fierce storms and volcanic activity.  Flash notes he’s lived in the future for “a moth” so it has been a month since his mysterious disappearance in the 20th century. Barry attempts to escape the incoming anti-matter wave.

Earth-1, New York City, July 1985: The Teen Titans and the Outsiders are assisting in search and rescue efforts.  Superman saves Donna Troy from a collapsing building.  Batman also arrives on the scene.  Katana wonders why she’s even here: “What use is my sword against a threat like this?”  Nightwing’s response: “Maybe none, Katana…but we need you!”  Katana’s thoughts are what every low-powered hero thinks in situations like these.

Starfire wants an all-out offense: “We attack!  We fight…do whatever we can…and we destroy whoever’s doing this to us! My world was conquered…I’ll not let that happen to this planet, too. You can’t understand. I won’t let this planet die!”

Superman sympathizes: “Believe me, Starfire, I understand all too well.”

Flash appears before the assembled heroes: “Oh my god…my god…I tried warning you…Help me…Hel…”  Flash vanishes again.  At this point in the series, readers should have realized this Crisis was not going to end well for Barry.

Old-school Brainiac in the classic robot-head tentacle ship!  Location:  Space, far beyond our solar system.  Brainiac observes the expanding anti-matter destruction and comes to a startling observation: “To save myself is my Prime Directive.  But to do that, I must also save the universe.  I need assistance…on Earth!  Only the one who calls himself Luthor can help me now!”  

Help me, Lex Luthor, you’re my only hope?!

Late Spring 1994, Markovia, Europe:  DC’s war heroes are battling the Nazis for control of the Monitor’s machine.  Roll Call:  Jeb Stuart and the Haunted Tank, the Losers, Sgt. Rock and the Easy Company.

General Stuart’s ghost warns Jeb: “The world is filled with winners and losers, but often time even losers win. This day, however, small Losers lose and never be seen again.

The World War II era of Pre-Crisis DC was packed to the brim with characters.  You had, among others, the Justice Society, the Freedom Fighters, the Seven Soldiers of Victory, the All-Star Squadron, the Blackhawks, the Losers, the Haunted Tank, the Easy Company, the Losers, O.S.S., Madame Marie, the corresponding villains, etc. A very fun era for DC.

Geo-Force, Dr. Polaris, and Blue Beetle arrive on the scene.  Blue Beetle is focused on the mission while Geo-Force and Dr. Polaris are determined to massacre the Nazis.  In Geo- Force’s defense, Markovia is his home country.  Dr. Polaris simply thinks it’s fun.

“My home country lies below. The Nazis slaughtered my people. Perhaps now I can pay them back!” – Go Brion, go!

Shadow Demon attack!

The Losers and most of Easy Company become victims of the Shadow Demons.  Rest in peace, guys.

Blue Beetle discovers that the Scarab given to him by Dan Garrett destroys the shadow demons. Unfortunately, Ted nearly falls to his death before being sent home by the Monitor.  A wounded Solovar is also sent home.  Not quite sure about the Monitor’s logic.  You discover that the Scarab can destroy the shadow demons but Ted falls so you bench him?  Are you sure you’re trying to win?

1879:  Coyote, Texas.  The Wild West.  DC’s Western heroes are investigating the Monitor’s Machine.  Roll Call:  Bat Lash, Scalphunter, Jonah Hex, Johnny Thunder, and Nighthawk.   Is this an all-boys club?  Where’s Cinnamon?  

Cyborg, Psimon, Firebrand, and Green Lantern (John Stewart).  Needless to say, the heroes’ appearance freaks the cowboys out.  Jonah Hex calms the group down as he has met Hal Jordan: “Don’t ya remember the green costume on that hombre? It’s the same one we saw on another guy who called himself a Lantern or something.”

Bat Lash waits all of five seconds before hitting on Firebrand.  He has no chance as Firebrand is more into knights than cowboys. Shadow Demon attack!  John’s power ring mysteriously fails.  Nighthawk and Coyote, Texas, are wiped out in an anti-matter wave.

Metropolis, the 30th Century.  Cosmic Boy, Wildfire, Lightning Lass, and Sun Boy fail to stop the spread of the anti-matter wave.

Dream Girl is puzzled about why she had no premonitions about this crisis: “What I don’t understand is why didn’t I dream of it’s coming? How did this happen without my knowing about it?”

Element Lad, Mon-El, and Kid Psycho are evacuating England. Kid Psycho dies due to a combination of a collapsing building and the spreading wave of anti-matter wave.

The Monitor wails: “Instead of days only hours remain. The Earths are doomed!”

Harbinger confronts the Monitor: “It is time for you to die!”

The art of George Perez is gorgeous, as usual. Marv Wolman continues to juggle a huge cast and nails it every time.

Three issues in and the deaths have begun in earnest:

The Crime Syndicate

Earth-3 Alexander and Lois Luthor

The Losers

Easy Company

Nighthawk

Kid Psycho

#Crisis On Infinite Earths #Teen Titans #Legion Of Super-Heroes #Barry Allen #Brion Markov #Starfire #Losers #Easy Company #Haunted Tank #Geo-Force #Jonah Hex #Kid Psycho #Ted Kord #Blue Beetle #Brainiac #Lex Luthor #Katana #Outsiders

[lexxikitty-blog1]

The Sublime and Spirited Voyage of Original Sin by Colette Moody Read: January 2018 Rating: 5.5 Stars

This is the third book by Colette Moody that I’ve reread – and each of Moody’s three books improved on rereading. Like this one here, the pirate one, I found to have a lot more detail in it that I had recalled. I believe I might have initially read this one too quickly – still enjoyed it on first read, but read it too quickly.

Right, so – the action takes place in various locations in or near the Caribbean Sea. Florida (St. Augustine), Cuba, Jamaica (Kingston, Port Royal (which is actually just across a stretch of water from Kingston)), Bahamas, Santo Domingo (in what is now the Dominican Republic). And the Berry Islands (just north of Bahamas). Action took place during a few months in 1702.

And that action? A pirate ship, the

Original Sin

is attacked by a military ship and the captain is injured. With the doctor killed in the same action, the crew (and daughter Gayle Malvern, who takes over as acting captain) need to find a doctor. A few are tasked with heading to the nearby coast of Florida to find the lucky fella. Instead they find Celia Pierce, who just happened to be visiting her doctor fiancée – that fella was in the backroom but is quite the coward and hid while the pirates were there. Since Celia is a seamstress, and the doctor apparently is in some other town, the pirates ‘make-do’ with the seamstress.

Dark haired Celia and fiery haired Gayle go to work on Captain Mad Malvern, and the rest of the injured crew. Then start sailing around – dropping Captain pops at a particular tavern where the ex-ship doctor is currently residing. Ex-doctor will tend to injured captain, while the ship bounces around the region. First mission: retrieve a captured sister of another doctor – a doctor who had been following her from England and is willing to work aboard the pirate ship if they go get his sister. And then more fun and exciting things occur as Celia and Gayle take a cruise around a very small portion of the Caribbean (months apart in sailing time, but just a tiny bit of the Caribbean Sea).

There’s much humor, action, romance, and graphic depictions of sex to be found within the pages. Quite fun all around. And the humor was not just reserved for the ‘good characters’ – like, for example, a few bits dribbled out of others. Like right in the beginning with the feckless doctor who talks about his attempts to woo women in Spanish Florida when he himself only knows English (‘luckily’ for him, there’s a British fella there who married a Spanish woman and had an offspring – that being Celia, making her half British and half Spanish).

It was astoundingly difficult to woo a lady who thought he was either trying to purchase a chicken or a few tomatoes from her, or ask her for directions.

And while there’s no real romance between Celia and Philip (the doctor), there’s much humor to be found in their interactions. Like when Philip calls Celia his cabbage. And she calls him on it – and he is so dim it takes him a while to understand she’s being sarcastic.

”I find you attractive as well, my cabbage.” She fought her natural urge to grimace at his unpleasant metaphor. “Cabbage? Might you compare me to a vegetable with a slightly more palatable smell?” His brow furrowed. “My little . . . mushroom?” “You would liken me to a fungus?” Celia laughed. “Such wooing, sir. You might make my heart burst within my breast.” Phillip eyed her with belated suspicion. “Are you mocking me?” “I? Your devoted mushroom dares not,” Celia replied insincerely. “Were I perhaps a potato or a leek, however, I would be brimming with mockery. They, sir, are victuals of the trickiest sort and are not to be trusted.”

But the humor is not just limited to Phillips and people talking around him (which is good, since he isn’t the main character and is rarely in the book). The humor with Celia by herself, or between Celia and Gayle is also quite good. Like when Celia, after waking up hung-over, asked what happened the night before between herself and Gayle . . .

”Did we…” She jumbled her fingers chaotically together in some sort of peculiar, yet demonstrative hand gesture. “Milk an animal of some kind?”

Right, so, many more moments of humor – better in context, I’m sure, than randomly strewn about my review here.

As mentioned – this is the third book I’ve reread by Moody – and all three improved with rereading. ‘Parties in Congress’ rose from 4.5 (since bumped to 5) stars to 6 stars (and top tier) on reread; while ‘The Seduction of Moxie’ moved from 4.5 stars up to 4.25 stars. Wait. Mmphs. Okay, so now that I actually look at the ratings, they did not actually all improve on rereading. Mmphs. Probably due to all the vomiting, diarrhea, and nastiness* in Seduction that knocked it down a little (* yes, instead of firing your agent – poison him). This book here, ‘Sublime’, was rated 4.75 on first read and 5+ on second read (which rearranges the order of ‘favorite Moody books’ – had been 1) Sublime, 2) Parties; 3) Seduction; and is now 1) Parties; 2) Sublime; 3) Seduction.

Rating: 5+

January 12 2018

#Lesbian Pirates #Pirates #Lesbian Fiction #Lesbian Romance #ReRead #Bold Strokes Books #Book Review #Lesbian Book Review #Historical Fiction #Lesbian Historical #Lesbian Action #Action #Lesbian Humor #Humor #18th Century #5.5 Stars #Favorites #Romance #Historical Romance

[vacationsoup]

New Post has been published on https://vacationsoup.com/national-apple-festival-a-family-day-out-in-kent/

National Apple Festival - a family day out in Kent

The 36 apple trees at our Kent holiday rental have yielded a bumper crop this year. It is fascinating to think that each harvested crispy Cox, cooker and crab apple links the eater in an unbroken chain back to the time of Henry VIII.

The orchard bears fruit at Barnfield House

A brief history of apples in Kent

Apples have made their appearance at various stages in the history of England, initially during the Roman occupation and then after the Normal Conquest of 1066. The first record of apple growing in Kent appears in a map of Canterbury dating from 1165, which shows an orchard within the grounds of the Benedictine Christchurch Abbey. But the county’s pre-eminence as England’s leading apple grower really started some 400 years later, when Henry VIII’s fruiterer Richard Harris planted the first pippins in Teynham in 1533. Fast forward 350 years and, by the close of the 19th Century, over 25,000 acres of Kent were devoted to apple orchards. By then Charles Dickens, Kent’s most famous literary resident, had proclaimed in Pickwick Papers “Kent, sir – everyone knows Kent – apples, cherries, hops and women”.

Today, though the acreage is nowhere near the Victorian heydays, Kent remains England’s premier apple growing region. Given its apple heritage, it is perhaps not surprising that the county is also home to the UK’s National Fruit Collection at Brogdale Farm – in an appropriate nod to history, close to the very site where Richard Harris planted the first ‘King’s orchards’ in 1533.

The National Fruit Collection

The National Fruit Collection houses an astonishing 2,200 varieties, some represented by just one or two trees. This is the largest collection in the world and includes varieties from almost every county in Britain as well as from across the globe. Far from being closed to the public, the orchards are open seven days a week throughout the open season, which runs from April until the end of October. So you have the chance to visit from the time of heavenly spring blossoms to the heady fruit harvest. Choose a guided tour where you walk in the company of a resident expert who will share knowledge, answer questions, and pick some fruit for you to taste (in addition to apples, you may also see pears, quinces, plums and cherries. If you can do without the chance to taste some apples, opt for a self-guided walk or, if you prefer a more leisurely look, join the trailer tractor tour.

Brogdale National Apple Festival - fun for all the family

Visits throughout the season bring their own unique rewards, but in October the orchards are particularly spectacular, laden with colourful heritage fruit. And if you time your visit to coincide with the annual National Apple Festival, you’ll reap dividends. This year the festival takes place on the 19th and 20th October, and it promises to be a fabulous fun-packed weekend for all the family. Get set for a breath-taking display of apples in the Apple Barn where you can try-before-you-buy rare and heritage varieties and select your favourites to take home. Take a guided tour on foot, by tractor trailer, or aboard the Faversham Miniature Railway that wends its way through the heart of the orchards. Learn about the history of apples. Listen to horticultural talks on such topics as Kent wildflowers and bee-keeping. Meet the scientists from Reading University who are conducting climate change trials in the orchards. Watch cookery and apple-pressing demonstrations. Participate in festival games and competitions like the longest apple peel competition or apple eating challenge. Browse stalls brimming with local crafts and produce. Relax – or dance – to the rhythms of local bands while enjoying local cider and a large serving of Brogdale apple pie.

There’s lots for younger members of the family too: face painting, a bouncy pirate ship, Punch & Judy, and kids’ apple crafts such as ‘make a bobbing apple boat’ and ‘carve a spooky Halloween apple head’. Plus there’s Bramble the pig and friends to meet in the animal corner, snakes and lizards to learn about in the reptile area, and dazzling falconry displays.

Bramley or Beauty of Kent?

One activity of particular interest to us at Barnfield House is fruit identification.  While this service is offered online throughout the year, the festival gives visitors the opportunity to meet resident Pomologist Joan Morgan, who will help identify apple trees from a fruit sample or a photo of the tree. At last this is the chance for us to identify some of the varieties growing in our garden!

Brogdale Collections

Home of the National Fruit Collection and set in over 150 acres of farmland, Brogdale Collections is a charity working to provided access to and education about the National Fruit Collection. The charity offers a range of opportunities for the public to use the collections as an educational resource including daily guided tours (April – November), Key Stage 1 & 2 education days, fruit days and festivals.

The Brogdale National Apple Festival takes place from 10am till 5pm on Saturday 19th and Sunday 20th October 2019.

Daily tickets are available online.  Prices are £5 for children (15 and under), £9 for adults, £8 for students and 60+, and £23 for families (2 adults and 2 children). Book now for tickets discounted by 10% (available until 18th October 2019. Tickets will be available on the gate during the festival weekend. For more information, visit brogdalecollections.org

      Brogdale Collections Brogdale Farm Brogdale Road FavershamKent ME13 8XZ

All photos (except the captioned Barnfield House orchard photo) credited to the Brogdale Collections

#HolidayInKent #Kent #VacationInKent #applefestival #familydaysoutinkent #funwiththekids #kentfestivals #nationalapplefestival #selfcateringkent #SoutheastEngland #uk #VacationSoup #whattodoingkent