for the crimes of piracy 𝚈𝙰𝚂𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽 𝙰𝚂𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙱𝙴𝚈 / "𝙺𝙻𝙸𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙽" is hereby wanted. those who surrender them dead or alive to the crown will receive 𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚈-𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴 pounds. they’re famously known to be part of the 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙱𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁 as their 𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚂𝚃. before engaging be warned as they can be 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙱𝙱𝙾𝚁𝙽 & 𝙱𝚄𝙻𝙻-𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝙳, but if you’re lucky they’ll be 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚃 & 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙴. legends say that when you speak their name you’re reminded of 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙳𝚄𝚂𝚃𝚈 𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂, 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝙽 𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝙿 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳, 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙰𝙼 𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙰 𝙲𝚄𝙿 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙴𝙰, 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙲𝙴𝙰𝙽'𝚂 𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙸𝚂𝙷-𝙱𝙻𝚄𝙴 𝙰𝚃 𝙼𝙸𝙳𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃.
𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚈𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚢 𝙺𝚕𝚒𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗
Full Name: Yasemin Aslihan Aslanbey ; Klio the Historian.
Occupation: Pirate ; Archivist on the Harbinger.
Date of Birth and Age: 3rd of August, 1694 ; Thirty-Four Years of Age.
Zodiac Sign: Leo Sun.
Place of Birth: Midyat, Mardin, Ottoman Empire.
Gender and Pronouns: Cis-Woman ; She/Her/Hers.
Romantic and Sexual Orientation: Demiromantic Pansexual.
Appearance: Dark brown curls, thick and waist-length ; Dark brown, round eyes ; Beige skin tone with olive undertones ; A beauty mark on the upper, right hand corner of her lips.
𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞…
Yasemin was born to a noble family in Midyat. Her father was a governor of the Mardin region in the Ottoman Empire and her family would often visit Constantinople. As she got older, she was given the best education money could afford. There had been intention for her to marry one of the Sultan's sons, and they had wanted to prepare her for the life of a royal wife.
And yet... Not every plan comes to fruition. Such was the case for the Aslanbey family.
While on a voyage to make trade in the Caribbean, Yasemin and her mother had been brought along so that they could visit the Caribbean islands. The young woman had always been fascinated with seeing more of the world and to learn more about the history of the world, so the voyage had been met with great joy and anticipation. But not to far away from Tortuga, pirates attacked the ship. Her mother and father, the captain and crew, everyone.
Everyone... except her. Yasemin had been in her quarters when the massacre took place. One of the pirates had found her and tried to take her life, but having grabbed a letter opener, she killed the man before her could even fully try to kill her.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been there, shaking and covering in blood while guarding her books and maps, when another pirate ship came along. The Harbinger. They found her there and the archivist, noticing her being the sole survivor of the attack and her protecting the greatest treasure, knowledge, gave her a choice: to come with them and join their crew. Did she truly have a choice?
For the longest time, she struggled to adapt to her new home. Yet, over time, she began to learn to trust the Harbinger crew. To see them as her new family. And for the past five years, she has learn how to live life as a pirate. A life, she has discovered, she was meant to live all along.
𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜…
Her family's murderers: Yasemin still remembers who killed her family. Whether they've joined new crews or not, I would really love it if some of the pirates who took her family from her are members of Oathbreaker or Raider's Revenge—the rivals of the Harbinger.
Harbinger crew: I need all the found family vibes. I need friendships, I need rivals (but the kind where they'd kill someone if anyone tried to hurt them; they're a dick but they're MY dick), I need frienemies, I need it all pretty pls.
Her anchor: This person has been in her life ever since the Harbinger saved her and helped guide her into piracy, along with helping her choose her name: Klio the Historian, after the Greek Muse of History. Over the past five years, she has developed feelings for this person and desires them greatly. Whether they have feelings for her or not, whether they've acted on their passions together or not, everything can be plotted out!
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If my true love will not have me, I would surely find no other. To pick wild mountain thyme, all around the bloomin' heather. Will ye go, Laddie, will ye go?
She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be standing with pirate and townfolk alike, witnessing the mass hanging of the Oathbreaker. How has this happened? How could this be? Klio was not surprised that the Royal Guards had discovered that it'd been the crew that orchestrated the break-in months ago to save Arthur. They would've been anyone's first thought. Yet after the peace and silence that took place afterward, she had wondered if perhaps they were freed still to be let go.
A foolish notion. One that had been born in the joy of being with the captain.
It had barely been a fortnight ago when she finally confessed that she loved him. That after five years of them being together, after five years of having a sort of life together, she finally could put a name to her affections. She could finally confess as to who he means to her and has this whole time. She was no longer afraid of who knew or not. She no longer feared the consequences of what her crew might say should it be found out. She no longer feared the anger and disappointment that could come from her captain.
She is in love with Arthur Brock. And by the gods of the sea, she wanted a life with him.
Poseidon laughed in her face.
Horror had spread through her being with each twisted body that hanged. This crew... They had become another family to her. They supported the tryst between her and their captain. And now, she watched them all die. Her throat dry and her breath all but gone as she lost her friends. She couldn't hide the agony in her eyes, each hanged body reflected in them.
Then came Arthur's turn. Her lover's sea gaze catching her own, them widening in realization.
"N-No."
The word came out hoarse, soft, heard only by her crewmates. "Please, stop this!" she cried out, her voice growing louder. There was chatter by those nearest her and finally, she tried to run. She did not know who it was that grabbed her, nor did she care. She struggled in the grasp and continued to fight. She cannot watch Arthur die. Not after saving his life. Not after their love being confessed to each other.
"I beg of you, please, do not do this!" she cried, her pleads ignored by the men curating this horror show. She heard her name called out in the air: "Yasemin."
Then the floor was dropped. Arthur hung, struggling for a moment then still.
The Archivist froze until she began to scream like a Banshee of Irish lore. She finally tore herself free and ran to her lover, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cupped his paling face. The man grew colder to the touch. "Please, don't leave me," she begged. "Please, don't go where I can't follow. Please, come back to me." Her face hid in his chest as she sobbed. Uncaring that all could see her in this spectacle. Uncaring that all now knew that she, Klio the Historian of the Harbinger, was the lover of Arthur "Bloodcoat" Brock, captain of the Oathbreaker and her ship's greatest rival.
"Arrest her," she heard a voice rang out. A commotion came as members of her crews went to stop the Crown's men from reaching her. Though, she would not resist if they should. If she was hung by Arthur's side right now, she would accept it.
But someone else reached her and began to tear her away from the hanged man's body, telling her that they needed to leave. All she could whimper out was small objections and clinging tighter to Arthur. It wasn't until a stronger crewmember had come that they were successful in tearing her away from him. Her protests were shrieks in the air as she tried to fight away, tried to get back to her lover. Her eyes never tearing away from him, even as tears streamed down her cheeks, until the doors of the gallows were shut behind them.
...
She had been in a daze afterwards. Recruiting as much Scots from around the island that she could muster, it took an immense amount of coin to be able to retrieve Arthur's body. He deserved a Scottish funeral. He had been proud of his heritage and she knew he would've wanted it before being returned to the sea.
It ached, washing his body then dressing him in a linen shroud. Yasemin stopped numerous times to cry. Begging for him to wake up and to be alright. He wouldn't.
The wake at her studio had been packed, filled with food her lover enjoyed while stories were shared about Arthur. She knew the man had been greatly respected and loved, but to see it with her eyes? It left her speechless. She never left his body, though. How it was laid on a board and a platter with separate portions of earth and salt was placed on his chest, his fellow countrymen explaining to her that the earth represented his body's return to earth whereas the salt symbolized his enduring spirit. Not one single fire was lit throughout the lot.
The procession was agony, leading from her home through town and headed to the sea. There'd been a spot he loved, one he'd taken her many times throughout the years; it was the perfect spot for him to be taken to, for his cairns to be built there while his body returned to the great blue sea. The weeping women led the procession, singing of sorrow for Arthur. Reaching the sea, she joined the rowboat that took him out.
Yasemin looked down at him, his face peaceful. She choked back a sob as she brushed her fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you that I love you sooner. I'm sorry that I wasted so much time. I'm sorry that we never married, that we never had children, that we never had a life together." Resting her forehead against his, she shuddered out a sigh. She whispered, "I will never stop loving you, Arthur Brock. I promise."
With a final kiss, she and the men carefully lifted him. Reuniting him with the sea, his final resting place.
After returning to land, they created a great cairns, stone pile, in commemoration of him. A plaque she commissioned to the blacksmith added it it after it was done. She stayed there, kneeling before the pile, long after everyone else left. Yasemin's hand never left the small glass seashell that hung around her neck, containing a lock of the captain's fiery hair within it. A part of him always remaining with her.
Doone’s shoulders eased a fraction at her words, the faintest trace of tension slipping off him like rain from oilskin. He let the corner of his mouth curl, wry and quiet. “Turkish, then. You’ve a better sense than most of what’s worth keeping close.” He set his hat on the edge of the desk, fingers brushing once more over the cipher as if reluctant to part with it fully. Her mention of absence wasn’t lost on him. He studied her for a moment, ink-stained fingers, that steady calm edged with caution, the kind that didn’t fade even in supposed sanctuary. It mirrored his own in ways he didn’t name. “Scarcity’s wise,” he murmured, low. “There’s been too many eyes looking where they shouldn’t, too many tongues wagging.” His gaze flicked briefly toward the low ceiling beams, then back to her. “I’d rather see you scarce than swinging on the gallows.”
The words were blunt, but beneath them lay the weight of care he rarely put plain. He leaned a little closer, elbows braced on his knees. “As for me? Still afloat. Still star gazing.... The sea and sky've seen fit not to forsake me yet. I'm not very good at blending in. Not like some can.” A ghost of a grin followed, dry as salt. “Walking these decks feels steadier than the dry land lately.” He let the quiet settle a beat, eyes resting on her rather than the books. “Glad to see you, too, Klio. More than you think.”
"Aye, hence why I'm an Archivist for this crew," she chuckled. For all her life, she hadn't wanted for anything. There'd been no need for her to find a job to earn her wage; with the Aslanbey family money, she could fund anything and everything she wanted to do and learn. And oh, was there much she wanted to learn. All her life, she read each and any book she could get her hands on while hiring the best tutors that could come to Mardin from across the globe. It was with much great luck that she'd been able to obtain all the learning and develop critical thinking skills for herself. Fixing up cups for Doone and herself, Klio sighed softly at his words. "I know," she mused and held out a tulip glass full of tea before continuing, "I the same for you. With the brig break-in not too long back, I would not be surprised should there be more of the crown's men on our shores soon."
She hadn't thought about that at the time. Nor did she regret it. She would do the break-in all over again if given the choice between doing so or not. Arthur is alive. That's more than she could've ever hoped for. "At least the sea and sky are still constant," she says before taking a sip. The Historian could feel her heart aching. For the longest time, she had wished to stay on the island as long as possible. Now... Well, she was ready to be back on the sea. To face the horizons and write down all kinds of stories along the way. "I hope to be back out to sea soon. I must admit, I am quite ready to bid Tortuga farewell for a moment." Looking up, her smile was soft. She shook some of her long bangs out of her eyes. "You haven't faced any trouble, have you? I would hate to think so."
Krish chuckled. Clearly the fact that they were supposed to be enemies - rivals - something or other, meant she'd forgotten the direction of his story. No matter, he could improvise, he could get them back on track. It was a great challenge, after all, to get her mind away from the simple fact that they could fight each other if they so wished and their captains would probably agree. Though... perhaps not his captain after all. He offered a smile.
"We were there for a jailbreak," he said. "A few of our colleagues got taken while we were enroute to Norway, and brought to the jail in Edinburgh. We weren't inconspicious, meaning we got their attention far before we got within city bounds. We made sure a few of us actually presented themselves at the gates, while the rest was smuggled in. We were already doing a jailbreak, it would not be so bad to have a few on the inside to help us," he said. "This was before the Oathbreaker, it would've been nice to have a few soldiers in our ranks who were actual locals."
Klio to a moment to carefully glance around with her eyes. The woman relaxed slightly more at the confirmation that there still weren't any from the Harbinger around. The last thing that needed to happen was someone from the crew spotting the two talking and wondering if she was turning her back on them. While she knew that could never be the case, she still feared the dare that she could lose them all. Especially should her secret be made known to them.
"Ah," she mused. Setting aside her piss-poor whiskey and settling more into her chair. "I see. Have you yourself done any jailbreaks before then, Krish? I'm trying to think back on the stories of yours I've heard before and I will admit, I cannot recall any of them." The Archivist chuckled. She was certain Arthur would've told her this story himself had be been there. "I figured, yes. Did anyone from your old crew joined you on the Oathbreaker? I assumed it would've been helpful, to at least have one person one already known before their life is changed." A thought came to mind and, quickly, she added: "I am not searching for intel to use against you. I promise. I... simply hope to learn more about you. Rivalry... be damned."
Krish did not have a care for what people did behind closed doors. Very little was ever of his concern anyway, it only complicated some things, but who was he to hate the complicated? The more complicated a plot, the more fulfilling the ending. And he was a sucker for things such as betrayal and forbidden romance. He did always like to tell that story of how he almost became a king.
He leaned closer as well, she was listening and he knew that some stories were even better when intimately told. “We did not,” he admitted, a sly smile on his face. “No tools, no map, nothing but a man who was native to the land, and the determination to free our friends. If not for the towns and churches we crossed on the way, we might not have made it to Edinburgh. Of course, the locals weren’t happy to see us. We were a special lot. One of us so tall he could not fit through the doorway of a small church without bending his head, the other so small people almost mistook him for a child if not for the burly beard and the crude jokes. We were dangerous, but we found that if we remained kind and generous, nobody would stop us from slowly making our march through the mist to the city.”
Perhaps, in another life, the rivalries between ships would be nonexistent. Perhaps they could simply be pirates and let others be pirates. No rivals, no arguments, no lies. It would all be uncomplicated. But that wasn't life, now was it? Maybe, for a world like that to exist, their war against the British would've been won. Or perhaps that was the answer: the war with the British was mutual with all the ships. One day, an alliance could be fulfilled. And maybe there wouldn't be the need for secrecy.
Klio felt hopeful by such an idea. A fantasy, really, that matched the merits of Krish's stories. But, such an idea would have to be shelved for now. She was enjoying a drink, clearing her mind from Anika, stopping her mind from thinking about Arthur as well, and focusing on the Ironhand. Taking a sip of her drink, her brows rose up. His story made even the dog piss of a whiskey seem interesting. "What did you all do while in Edinburgh? It doesn't sound like a simple pillage; did you spend some time in the city? Were you able to create any fond memories while there? Where else did you go while in Scotland?"
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Where: wherever Klio keeps her books and maps on board The Harbinger
Who: Klio @ap1ratesl1fe
Doone moved through the Harbinger's decks with the respectful silence of a man entering someone elses place of worship. No need to speak loud here. He found Klio below, in the belly of the vessel where parchment rustled like wind through reeds and the scent of ink and salt hung heavy in the still air. Doone offered a small nod. Just enough to say he wasn’t here by accident, but not enough to disrupt the quiet sanctity she kept around her work.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, voice low but even. “Thought I’d trade the city for something steadier. Maybe see what your ink’s been whispering lately.” He crossed the floor slow, sure-footed despite the unfamiliar creak of her timbers, and pulled the small, weathered book from his coat. Bound in rough oilskin and worn at the corners, it looked unremarkable. But when he placed it on her desk, his fingers lingered for just a breath longer than necessary. “Updated the cipher. Just in case.” His eyes met hers, steady and serious beneath the flicker of lamplight. “Figured you ought to have the key.”
The edge of a smile threatened, not quite reaching his mouth. “You’re the only one I’d trust not to ruin the margins.” No reason to explain why he felt the need to update the cipher, or why he was worried about making sure she had it now instead of later. He waited. Willing to speak more, if she asked. Or wait for her to pick the next topic.
For weeks Klio has made her presence scarce on the island. Hiding away mainly in either her abode within an apartment above a shop or onboard the Harbinger. There were times in which she has needed to go into the Shambles Market for food and other necessities. But, fortunately, she has been able to afford to remain hidden for the most part. She wasn't sure if her part in breaking Arthur free from the brig had been made known or not. But the Archivist certainly wasn't going to try and gain that knowledge. Not when it could cost her her life.
Aboard the ship, she had been updating some documents when she heard someone make their presence known. Her hand had hovered over her pistol as she looked. Sighing with relief that it was Doone instead of a bloody redcoat. "You're more than good," she mused. Moving her hand away while turning to give him her full attention. Her gaze cascaded down on the cipher, her fingertips tracing the edges while her eyes moved up to him. Her lips moving into a small smile. "Thank you. I'll use this knowledge wisely."
In many ways, she greatly appreciated Ptmarigan Doone. She saw much of herself in the man—and much of him within herself. While she wished to see him more, the pirate was just relieved to be able to see him at all. That he was right here in front of her instead of off in the brig. "Would you like some tea? Turkish, I promise. No British tea will pass these lips." Klio's gaze softened after she mused a little jokingly. "I am glad to see you here, Doone. I've been hoping that you were okay. My presence has been made scarce these past few weeks."
he never saw himself as the joyful person, vidar was so used to being closed off it's a miracle that any of his crewmembers are still following him around, he supposed it was because of the way he did things or their ideology. nevertheless, it was nice to see klio joking around with him and in return vidar feeling comfortable enough with his crew to allow himself to feel a little bit of joy and happiness. "you're on." he said with slight cockiness, honestly it didn't matter to him who won, though he will not make it easy on her.
vidar simply looked at klio, trying to understand whatever it is she was feeling. for him, love was a concept he never truly understood. a weakness that he didn't get why so many people had while at the same time never feeling what one's supposed to feel. this... situation between anika and klio was a prime example why he was glad that his heart is cold as ice to that feeling, an unnecessary distraction at the time where they cannot effort to have any. so really, vidar didn't really care why anika left, he cared that his crewmember is distracted with things that in his point of view, should come second to what they're going through at the moment. "no distractions." it wasn't quite a command but rather an advice. "it cause blindness." truth, because when's focused on one thing, they cannot see their surroundings.
Klio smiled happily. The Harbinger captain was a stoic man. Being able to see moments like this out of him was a joy that could not be properly expressed. It felt good to be able to bring out such a side of him. After all these years, it felt as if the trust they've been building together was truly coming to bloom wonderfully.
Which made her betrayal even worse. She knew it. How could she not? She has betrayed him nearly every day for five years and she knew that one day, that betrayal would come to light. Klio could only hope that Vidar would remain ignorant awhile longer. She needed him to. The historian had no idea how he would react otherwise, even though she knew that it would be warranted. "I-I know," she whispered. Looking down. She quietly played with the hem of her blouse. She knew that she needed to block her mind. But how could she when Anika has a place tied so closely to her heart? "I'll work to rid myself of them, sir." Even though one of those forms, her most favourite form, is one she shouldn't have either.
Elijah’s grip on the pistol didn’t falter at first. Not when she walked in uninvited. Not when her voice met his like a crashing tide. Not even when she said the rat was dead. But when she said she killed him, with her own hands, his stance shifted. The tiniest flicker of disbelief cracked through the storm behind his eyes. Her. Of all people.
Not that he thought her incapable. She was clever. Dangerous, in that subtle, quiet sort of way. But strangling a man in the surf? Burying his face beneath the tide like some vengeful sea spirit? He hadn’t expected that.
His pistol lowered, slow, and deliberate. His words came before he could stop them, heat and grief slamming together in his chest like clashing steel. “I’ll decide when I put the damn pistol down. For all I know, you’re here to rat us all out and take advantage of a ship without a captain. You belong to rivaling parties, if you remember.” It was harsh. Maybe too harsh. But tonight, Elijah had no room left for soft edges or diplomacy. Arthur was set for the rope, and every second wasted was another second the gallows stood unchallenged.
Still, her lips trembled. Her voice cracked. And gods help him, it hurt. She looked how turbulent he felt on the inside. His sigh was rough, buried behind the heel of his palm as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Helping me, huh?” he muttered, voice thick with exhaustion and disbelief. He stepped toward her then, measured but close. Close enough to see the storm behind her eyes. No longer watching only the woman who would slip from Arthur’s quarters under veil of shadow. No longer trying to simpy ignore how complicated the man’s heart might have become. Just… watching her now. Real. Raw. Willing to drown someone for his captain. He’d lost his brother already. It had nearly broken him. He wouldn’t survive losing Arthur too.
“Fine,” he said, gruffly. “But promise me you’ll not break down on me if we find… find something we do not like. I can’t have any collateral. He wouldn’t forgive me.” With a breath, he turned from her and moved back to the table, gesturing at the scattered explosives and tools with a grim nod. “We do not have all night to plot away but aye, there are a few weak points in the brig. Something with a little blasting power can crumble in seconds, without much of a risk of collapse.” His eyes flicked up to meet hers again, now sharper, more focused. “It’s not my first break out. But in case anything goes wrong…” He picked up a powder charge, turning it over in his hand with something like reverence...and rage.
“…we just make more things go boom. That’s it. That’s the plan.” He cocked his head, a breath of sardonic humor breaking through the steel in his voice. “Anything to add, my lady?”
"I am not your enemy here!" she snapped. She watched him, silently, as she tried to rein back in her temper. Clearing her throat, she took in a deep breath before letting it go. "We are from rival crews, yes. For that alone, I should not be here. My loyalty is to Vidar and to my crew." All of this was true. If she was a different person, under different circumstances, she would not have even showed her face around the ship. She would've been focusing on protecting her own skin, along with her crew's. If she was as smart as she claimed to be, she should be doing that.
And yet... Klio shook her head. "But he is my greatest of friends," she admitted, her voice growing soft. "I can't... I cannot sit back and do nothing, Elijah. Not when it concerns Arthur. I..." I love him. The words died on her lips. She couldn't say them to the man and have the words become twisted. After all, she loves and cares for each and every person close to her heart. There's nothing she wouldn't do for them. Yet Arthur... Surely it couldn't be more than that. No, it wouldn't be. It cannot be. It will not be.
Her breathing was shaky before she cleared her throat. "Yes," the Archivist nods. "In whatever way possible, I am here to help you get him out. He doesn't deserve to die." Bloodcoat Brock deserved a long, happy life. One full of adventure and laughter where a smile never leaves his handsome face. And if she can help assure that, then she will do anything to do so.
If we find... find something we do not life. She hadn't want to imagine them potentially finding Arthur hurt or... or dead. Dark eyes glistened with tears at the image in her mind, but so too did rage and determination. Swallowing back thickly, her nod was firm and convinced. "You have my word." She would stay strong. For Arthur. She would not break until after they've gotten him far away from the brig and out of harm's way. And they will get him out of there—alive. Klio was certain of it. She believed in it fiercely and with her entire heart that Arthur Brock was still alive and that they will be the ones to return his freedom to him.
Nodding as she listened, she looked at the powder charge. "And these weak points: do you know for certain if there will be guards located there as well or close by? If we attract too much attention, we could risk them calling for reinforcements. We need some kind of distraction to hold their attention long enough so we can get him out of there." She tried to think. "There's a farmer that lives close to the brig that owes me a favour. His patch is known to catch fire and there are guards who head over to help dispel it. I can convince him to create a large enough fire that should keep their attention, along with gathering more guards from the brig to help, while we get Arthur."
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Krish almost fanned themself when their full name was used. It was rare, and he basked whenever he heard the full thing pronounced correctly. His princely name. “Of course!” And then to be asked stories, there was nothing he wanted to do more. He smiled brightly and set both his elbows onto the table, ready to recall some adventure he’d had along the shoreline of Scotland. Anything for a fan.
“You have? I’m glad to hear that hearing one has given you the taste for more.” He leaned his chin on his hands and grinned. “This one happened ten years ago, before my time with the Oathbreakers, when one of my crew got captured by the Crown and brought to a prison in Edinburgh. We sailed under cover of night and landed a day’s walk from the city. It was cold and rainy and mist was keeping our ship concealed,” he said. “Have you ever been anywhere the mist is so thick that the only way to move through it is to hold onto a lamp?”
To wish to have a friendship with the Ironhand before her was perhaps ludicrous. After all, she was already treading on dangerous waters with her relationship with Arthur. Should she develop any more with anyone else on his crew, then surely Vidar was bound to learn sooner or later. It killed her having to keep such secrets from the man. Her captain gave her a home after the Oathbreaker had destroyed her family during a mutiny. This was the greatest betrayal and she knew it.
She simply could not stop, though. Nor, if she was being honest with herself, did she want to.
Klio watched them and listened intently. Leaning in and scooting closer so that she could listen to Krish better. To be fully immersed in such a story. Whether it was true or not, she simply did not care. She merely wanted to listen and engage with the other for awhile. "I do not believe I have as of yet," she mused. Her smile growing wider, her mentally jotting down everything they said. "What happened next? How was it going through the mist to get to where you needed to go? Did you use an assortment of tools or trinkets to help navigate through?"
vidar offered the smallest of smiles, it is good to see that despite it all his crew's spirits were lifted. before the tide and the blockade, he would spend his days in the devil's cask or hanging around aimlessly, trying to find when they'll be able to leave. these days? vidar hardly leaves the harbinger, too focused on making sure everyone is safe and taken care of. vidar nearly forgot what it was like to simply hang out with them. "reigning queen?" he raised an eyebrow, as if challenging that fact, though his tone was clearly filled with subtle amusement.
he tilted his head, that wasn't the answer he was expecting. he sometimes liked to hear his crew's opinions about situations, because sometimes they can see things that he simply cannot so vidar expected klio to come up with a least a base but maybe she wasn't ready, it wasn't her job to think about these type of solutions anyway. slightly disappointed but he paid it no mind. "several, harbinger comes first though." he answered truthfully, because taking care of his crew was always a priority, attacking the crown or even working together with their allies will have to wait until they're properly ready.
"Hey, now." While her words were a warning, her tone was light and her lips were in a smile. After all these years, it still felt good to be able to see Vidar's more playful side. Which was incredibly subtle, like his smiles. Yet they were shown from time to time. She wondered if he felt good in moments such as this. If they made him happy. She truly hope so. All she wanted was for her crewmates to bask in pure, unadulterated happiness. It was what they deserve. "Unless you are prepared to have your ass destroyed, I would be more than glad to play a game with you sometime."
Klio was playing with fire. She has been playing with it since the moment her and Arthur first slept together all those years ago. While she was relieved that Vidar didn't know, there was an anxious voice that has nagged at her ever since that one day, he will know. And it only grew more as time went on. That voice calmed down once she stopped seeing the Oathbreaker captain and started to see Anika for the longest time. But after she left, it'd been all too easy to fall back into old habits. His words... She agreed implicitly, truly, she did. Even though she felt guilty hearing them. "Always," she mused. Looking around them, she sighed softly. "Anika has returned," she confessed. "She's... She explained why she left. And I understand. I... I am struggling to trust her again. And I suppose my thoughts have been preoccupied with trying to understand everything. I thought I was never going to see her again."
If there was one person on this island who Celia could call a friend, then she knew that it was Klio. It was just admitting that, which was her problem. The pair could argue like cat and dog but that was half of the fun - at least Celia thought so. The only relationship she had which was even remotely similar was the one that she had with her brother.
"I will take it away from you if you're not careful." Celia huffed with a roll of her eyes. A smirk slipped onto her lips as Klio continued, "Now that I will not say no to." A drink was probably one of the few luxury's that could still be afforded. And she would never complain if it meant that she got to see her old friends at the tavern. "For over half the price? Well, colour me impressed." She laughed, nodding her head. While some people had decided to barter, Celia stole what she could. Hardly anyone saw her coming. It was almost like she had trained most of her life for this.
She sighed as Klio continued, "If anyone can come up with a plan, I am sure that it is you." She nodded. It was Celias way of saying that Klio was the smartest person that she had ever met. If she didn't know how to move forward, she wasn't sure what they could do. "I am not nearly clever enough to think of something to get us out of this." Celia sighed, shaking her head. "Other than blowing the blockade to kingdom come, of course." Though she knew that, that was not going to go down well. It wouldn't be something which worked out for any of them. She just had to hope that someone like Klio would be able to come up with something.
Beaming at Celia, she took a dramatically big bite of the fruit. Making a whole show of eating it and humming in delight. "Oh, no! I have eaten a bite," she mused after she swallowed. Holding out the apple back to her friend with a shit-eating grin. "I take it you're going to take it back now?"
Their banter has always been one of her favourite things about their relationship. Even when she was pretending (or not pretending) to be annoyed with the other, they were able to bite back at each other and know that it was all filled with respect for one another at the end of the day. There wasn't many people that she held that sort of relationship with. Nor any other that she would want such a friendship. "Then, let's be on our way. I've officially figured out which stock is still good, so we should be pleased." Klio beamed brightly. "It's magnificent, I am ready to give the book the love and respect it deserves. It is going to be the crowning jewel of my collection." And she already had quite an impressive collection.
Her smile faltered, shrugging at the pirate's words. "I hope so." In truth? She was quite distracted as of late. Why would she think about the blockade when she could be in Arthur's arms, all of her problems escaping her mind while with the man? She just hoped that the blockade could be taken care of itself without some kind of drastic measure. The last thing that needed to happen as Tortuga going into an all out war with the Crown. The Historian snorted softly at her word, eating more of her apple. "Might not be too bad of an idea. As long as we got the island ready to take cover for repercussions." This was a war between the pirates and the British—the townspeople of the island did not deserve to be faced within their wrath. "Come one. Let's get drunk and forget about the blockade for awhile, yeah? Besides, we have much to talk about: Anika returned."
Closed starter for Klio @ap1ratesl1fe
where: The Oathbreaker's lower hold, in the armory (before the break)
Elijah’s hands moved with methodical fury, wrenching open the weapon lockers. His pack already half-full with gunpowder, flint, wire, and steel. A seemed like outside a hint of a storm brewed beyond the harbor, but it was nothing compared to the one building behind his ribs. His brow glistened with sweat that wasn’t from the heat. Arthur. The gallows. Early morning.
He couldn’t think too long on it. If he stopped moving, he might break something... or someone. The pistol holsters were tight, worn from use. He’d need one for the gate, one for whoever held the keys. Maybe a third for the face of the bastard who’d whispered to the Charter dogs. Elijah’s jaw was clenched so tight it ached. Cowards. Traitors. Rats. His captain, the only man who he'd ever considered close to kinness, was shackled and set for execution while some spineless fool walked free. He would not let it stand.
He reached for the flintlock that had saved his life at sea a dozen times before. His hand brushing its polished grip just as footsteps scuffed behind him. Too light, too graceful for any pirate of the Oathbreaker. The moment twisted sharp and cold in his chest. He turned hard, pistol already drawn and leveled in a single, practiced breath. And there she was. Klio.
His eyes narrowed, storm-grey and unflinching as the barrel of his gun tracked her step. “Wrong fucking room,” Elijah growled, voice low and dangerous. “Unless you came to hand me the name of the bastard who sold him out.” His finger curled near the trigger. Not enough to fire, not yet, but enough to make a point. “Why are you here, Klio?” His gaze didn’t leave her. He didn’t have time for riddles or lovers’ games. Not tonight. “Say what you’ve come to say. Or move. I’ve got a captain to drag out from under the noose.”
Arthur was taken. The moment she heard those words, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She couldn't move. Arthur had been taken to the gallows to be executed in the early morning. Someone had told. Someone always tells. And an amalgamation of emotions rushed through her being. Anger. Rage. Wrath. But above all, she felt fear. She was terrified that she was about to lose the one most consistent person in her life. That she was about to lose her best friend. That she was about to lose the man who gave her justice and helped her family's memory to lay in peace. That she was about to lose the man who has given her solace countless of times these past five years and has returned to her life this past month.
No. No, she refused to lose him to the gallows. She refused to witness his execution when he still had such a long life to live. Arthur Brock was meant to go down in history as a great man and an extraordinary pirate; he was not meant to face the gallows at five-and-thirty. Not if she had anything to do with it. First thing's first: she was going to kill the rat who snitched. Fortunately, that had been rather easy: he had been at the tavern, all but boasting about what he done.
He was lucky that none of the Oathbreakers were there to listen to his boasts. He was unlucky that Arthur's lover was there, listening, watching. He was unlucky that he got away from his friends, drunkenly stumbling to the beach. He was unlucky that she followed him and strangled him with her bare hands, then buried his face in the sand as the tide washed over him. He was unlucky to have died choking on sand and salt water while his blood flowed into the sea.
She mindlessly marched straight to the Oathbreaker ship. The first person she thought of to help her was Elijah. And as she found him, she held her hands up as he drew his pistol on her. "Put the pistol down. I took care of him; he was a no-named smuggler who thought it wise to boast about selling Arthur out at the tavern." Carefully, she kept her space. Yet her eyes never broke away from his stormy gaze. "I know you do. That's why I'm here: I am helping you to set him free. We can't go in guns blazing; we need a strategy to get him out." This was perhaps the most they've ever spoken to each other. Yet as she looked at the man, she stood firm in her resolve. But her bottom lip quivered. "I-I can't lose him, Elijah," she finally whispered, her dark eyes teary. "I need to free him. I do not fucking care what you have to say, but I am helping you. I am coming with you. Do you have a plan or not?"
Love. It was a concept he hadn't given a great deal of thought to over the past few years, though the few times he did spare it a moment for thought, it was still the same face that it had always been that came to his mind; the face of the only woman he had ever known himself to love. She came to his mind now as well, but he was surprised to find that he couldn't quite focus on the picture because his attention kept being drawn back to the face of the woman straddling him. Did that mean something? Did he love her? And if he did, how long had it been, and how had it taken until for him to realize it?
"What, you're curious to know what it would be like to be loved by me?" he asked with a smirk, though it was being used to cover how shook he was feeling at the revelation he was in the midst of having through this conversation. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to, for the first time since we met, disappoint you, my dear. The truth is, it's not all that different from the treatment that you're used to from me." It was an honest answer, but she could never know what motivated that honesty.
No, he was definitely decided on that. As much as the idea of telling her the truth felt like it could be a relief, Arthur wasn't stupid; he had already had the thought that it was likely that her prolonged absence from his bed had been caused by another individual entering her life, and even if she was here now, he wasn't naive enough to think that meant she had chosen him; it just meant that the one she had chosen had not yet chosen her. He couldn't see that continuing forever, which meant that neither would they.
It would have been all too easy to allow himself to fall into a state of melancholy as he made these reflections, but thankfully it was just as easy to choose to focus on the fact that this goddess of a woman was pledging her body to him for the time being. Why should he let something like love get in the way of enjoying this while he still had it within his grasp? The motion of her hips grinding against him were enough to put the lingering thoughts of love from his mind, and his response to her question was an act full of intention. He flipped her onto her back and took the position of control, his eyes remaining locked with hers as he began to leave a trail of markings down her body, starting with her neck and throat, and down to her chest. He took considerable time to give attention to her perfect breasts, before then continuing his trail down to her abdomen, to her waist, and then finally his head dipped, and his tongue, with the hunger and desire of a starved animal, went to work, savoring the taste of her soaking pussy.
Love was something Klio always hoped to have one day. Granted, she expected it in a way that was not common for people outside of her culture. And yet, she had always been excited for it to happen to her. She's read plenty of stories, swoon over many poems, and daydreamed over the folk songs she's heard over the years. For as long as she could remember, she had dreamt that it would be hers. So when she finally realized she was in love and had it ripped from her unexpectedly... She had to admit: part of her has began to fear love. Part of her has worried that love wasn't meant for her. Part of her has wondered if due to her new life if she was being punished by Allah for it.
What she wouldn't admit was that she often wondered if when she was with Arthur, if this could be what it's like to be loved by the man. To be wanted by someone whole-heartedly. Of course, she was not naive to believe that the Oathbreaker captain would want her heart and soul as he does her body. They were much too good of friends for her to believe such a notion. But... after everything that happened and how her trust in Anika has waivered, she suppose it did not hurt to wonder. Even just for a moment. So listening to his answer, her heart fluttered. And she smiled. "Then I suppose being loved by you would be perfection," she stated. Running her fingers through his fiery curls while looking back into eyes the colour of the sea.
One day, Arthur would find the woman who was meant for him. One day, he would have the greatest love and cherish it with all his heart. One day, he would have the life he dreamt of, perhaps with a family to call his own. And Klio would be happy for him. She would be ecstatic, of course, to see her longest friendship receive the happiness that he so greatly deserve. As for right now, however, she was in his bed. She was feeling his skin against her lips and his lips against her skin. Giving each other a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss after he spent some time in that wretched cell.
She almost lost him. Now she was ready to show him just how terrified she'd been to have almost lived a life without him in it.
The wind had been knocked out of her in a sharp gasp as he flipped her over. Her dark eyes staring at him wide, yet her smile even wider. His gazed held on her combined with his lips against her skin caused her to moan happily. Her fingers carefully yet firmly snaking into his curls to tug, her nails gently scratching his scalp. "I'll take that as a yes to all my questions," she bemused breathlessly with a smirk. Her body rolling against him slowly. Her breath hitched as he took his time with her breast, the Historian whimpering as she tugged a little harder. Perhaps it was everything they've done together already the past few hours. Perhaps it was pure instinct after years of being together. Perhaps it was purely him. Perhaps it was a mixture of all three explanations that helped to explained how heightened she was already. How pleasure coursed through her veins like blood and how utterly intoxicated she was by him that it was so easy for her to feel so undone already.
Perhaps that was why she inhaled sharply at the feeling of his tongue against her cunt, devouring her like a man who hasn't feasted in days and lapping up her slick like a man drinking from an oasis. "A-Arthur," she moaned as her accent grew thick. Her pussy rolling against his face at the pace he ate her, her back arching slightly while her breathing grew heavy. Her legs moving to wrap around his head and keep him in his place. "Fuck, don't stop. Please... Please don't stop, darling. You feel so wonderful against me."
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their bodies intertwined, casting shadows in the hush of moonlight — silhouettes were finally in union again and anika could have sworn their hearts were beating in synchronicity. there had been a hole in anika's heart that was immediately filled when klio held her. the echos of grief that had haunted anika the past weeks seemed to fade away as a symphony of bliss washed over her. she knew things wouldn't be seamless, she knew she had kept secrets and vanished with no warning, she knew she'd have to work to earn klio's trust. but, this moment was real. klio was in anika's arms again, her life seemed complete. the pulse had returned to anika's heart, her universe finally aligned. the tears falling down her cheeks were a storm of both regret and happiness. but, oh the happiness would always win.
as she gazed into klio's eyes, every memory came rushing back. their nights spent tangled up together, klio's name on her lips like a poem. the way her fingers used to trace constellations across klio's skin. the guilt weighed heavy in her chest, but there was something stronger fighting its way up — relief and a fragile kind of hope. "i'm so sorry," anika sobbed again, knowing no amount of apologies would make up for what she'd done.
but love, love coursed through her veins.
tears fell once more as she tried to answer klio's questions. anika's breath caught in her throat when klio's fingers brushed against her cheek — so soft and reverent. and anika was undeserving of it. "i didn't tell you because i was afraid you'd...you'd worry about me, that you might think it was too risky. i wasn't strong enough to tell you." gods, anika was terrified of losing klio, but she had betrayed her. "i thought i was doing the right thing by protecting you. by keeping you safe from anyone who might be coming after me once they realized i was gone. i couldn't put you in harm's way, yasemin.” she shook her head, "i couldn't live with myself if i did that." was her apology too late and too small for all the pain she'd caused? but — then klio took lifted anika's chin so gently, and she gazed into her eyes. they were every bit as beautiful as they had always been. "of course i'll come with you," anika sniffled as she saw both pain and love in klio's eyes. "i don't deserve you," her voice was a soft, shaking whisper. "i have wanted to hold you since the moment we parted. i...i belong in your arms." and as klio kissed away her tears, anika could've melted into the brush of klio's lips. she nudged her nose against klio's, letting herself feel the moment, letting it wash over her. lacing her fingers with klio's she smiled wistfully, "take me home."
Would she ever be able to trust Anika again? Could there ever come a time where she could look at her or think about her and not have her heart ache with memory of how broken she was to lose her for a moment? Yasemin wasn't sure. She could not say for certain if such a future could happen. But... she wished for it. She desperately wished for it more than she could possibly say. She wanted to be able to trust her again. She wanted to be able to look at her and have her heart ache with happiness and joy, not brokenness and fear. For almost a year, she has loved Anika with her entire heart. She has spoken her words with actions more than words, but could that have been part of the reason why things went wrong? Should she have told her about her heart's greatest desire sooner? Could everything have been avoidable had she spoken up sooner?
The knowledge was forbidden and oh, how she despised that. But, maybe it was also a kindness for her to not know. For if she gained such wisdom, she would never forgive herself for not expressing her heart to the siren when she should have. And Allah knows if that could make everything worse or not. At least now, at least tonight, they could be together again. Tomorrow... was another story to tell. One that she was ready to ignore awhile longer.
She was ready to give the woman who owned her heart everything possible tonight. To live in a dream with her after a month of nightmares.
"I am always going to worry about you, Anika," she whispered brokenly. Tucking some midnight-dark tendrils behind the other's ear. No matter what, the other's happiness and safety was her greatest quest. She would do anything for her. Shaking her head, she hid her face in the crook of the other's neck as she pulled her back into her arms. "Nor could I ever put you in harm's way. Put you potentially putting yourself in harm's way... It is unfathomable. I promised to do anything and everything for you. It is one I intend to keep long after I am gone from this world." The Archivist sighed softly. Anika truly did belong in her arms, and she in hers. It was a peace that held no true name. It was a home that could move around from place to place. It was an adventure full of calm and serenity. And so as the woman agreed... Take me home... She reached for her hand and led the way, her head resting on her shoulder as they walked. The flat was close to their spot, which had been one of the reasons why she choose it in the first place. As she led her up the stairs and into the studio, she looked at her. Suddenly feeling nervous to show her her home. "I, um... Please, make yourself comfortable. I'll light some candles and oil lamps with haste."
them being observant was in higher priority than usual anyway, between making sure they got what the harbinger needed and keeping her safe from looters, it was all hands on decks. sure they did in shifts which otherwise meant the crew are free to do whatever the fuck they wanted but vidar felt like he couldn't leave the ship, it was too important for him and the crew. "good." he nodded, in peace with having full trust in his crew.
vidar huffed in amusement and it nearly showed on his face. "don't get caught on a lie." he went with the joke easily, feeling good at the banter between himself and his crewmate, he blockade has done nothing but give him a headache this past couple of days, they needed to figure out a way to stop it before even the smugglers won't be able to help them. "i know." he nodded and turned to look at her and suddenly his curiosity took over. "how would you stop the blockade?" vidar asked quietly, he had a few ideas of his own but it would be interesting to know what his archivist thought about the situation.
With how unpredictable everything was, she knew that she needed to be cautious. To look after not just her own skin, but those of her crewmates. To ensure that no one ended up hurt or worse because of something such as haggling over rum or arguing with a smuggler. She knew that she would not forgive herself if anything were to happen to anyone from the Harbinger. Snickering, she smiled up at Vidar. "As the island's reigning queen of backgammon, I promise not to get caught on a lie," she bantered soft-heartedly.
While she was still observant about most things, Klio would be lying if she said that there weren't many things that have occupied her mind. Anika's return... Her and Arthur resuming their previous activities together... While her and the man weren't quiet about what they do, she tried not to boast about it around the Harbingers, especially not around Vidar. Her loyalty was to her crew. She knows this. But she did not wish to give up Arthur again, not now. Not yet. She just hoped that her captain wouldn't be too offended by her five-year long betrayal. "Oh, um—" Clearing her throat, she looked around. "I am still working out some strategies," she offered. Hoping that he wouldn't see right through her. "What about yourself? Any ideas?"