âIt smells a bit tooâŚclean for my taste. Are you sure itâs even water?âÂ
âWhat else could it be, mate? I assure you, you wonât die getting a little bit of that grime off you.â

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@noahackerman-blog
âIt smells a bit tooâŚclean for my taste. Are you sure itâs even water?âÂ
âWhat else could it be, mate? I assure you, you wonât die getting a little bit of that grime off you.â

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âHonestly, I donât see what the problem is. The waterâs fantastic.â
âI donât think that would be wise,â Demeter spoke from behind the boy. She hadnât even moved from her seat when the fight broke out. She had no interest in watching grown men fight like children- even less interest in the blood lust of the men around her. âThis is how they settle things, stepping in would just make you a target. And if I may, you donât seem the type for fighting.â
âSo Iâve heard. I assume you wonât be stepping in?â

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                   âAre you joking mate? Thatâs the best part!â Kit grinned and winced all the same as one of the men landed a hearty punch on the otherâs jaws. This, he thought, was classic Tortuga entertainment.
âDonât you feel sorry for âem? At all? If I ever get that piss-drunk, I expect you to knock me out cleanly and drag my arse back to the ship, alright?â
Aleksey looked up and over to the person who spoke to him shrugging his shoulders. âNo point. Theyâre always fighting, people have started making bets on who will win each time. So far the one with the scar on his shoulder is winninâ by two.â
âI canât believe youâre countinâ. It physically pains me to watch, mate.âÂ
Connor stood still, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the fight. Simply another drunken bar brawl, probably over a game of cards or over who gets to take a whore first. Those sorts of fights annoyed Connor to his core; one of the men was likely to break a hand and be unable to work, and for what?
Hearing the boy next to him speak, Connor shook his head in reply. âNot unless you want something of yours broken or ripped off.â
âNo--er--I think I like myself intact.â He cleared his throat and turned his attention elsewhere. What had he gone to the marketplace for? Noah looked around aimlessly and frowned when he couldnât recall what his orders were.
She looked at the boy who spoke to her for only a moment; returned her gaze to the fight, next.
âYou ask question you could answer, butâŚââshe looked at him once more in same way butcher looks at cow, wanting to see which has most meatâââŚare too weak to. Go, stop fight, or stay silent.â
He flushed at her comment; that he was too weak to do anything in a fight. It was true. He was no soldier or warrior. He wasnât trained to kill, but he knew how to keep himself alive. The words hurt his ego, but he was used to people looking down on him and he was used to using their underestimation to his advantage. Noah shot the woman a defiant look before retrieving his slingshot with a relatively smooth rock already in hand. He took aim and fired, hitting one of the men on the back of the head and knocking him out. The other, having thought he had won the fight, let out a hearty laugh and directed the crowd towards the tavern again. Noah, on the other hand, walked up to the unconscious man and started dragging him to the side of the road. âIâm not weak,â he mumbled, irritated at the woman for thinking so.
amatthias-salvatore:
âI never s-said w-wrong,â Matthias said mildly, not meaning offense, just speaking plainly as he often did. Once you started making judgements of who has the âright,â the boy had learned, decisions were made for you. âAs I s-said, itâs not g-gotten out of hâ-â
A crash sounded as one of the other men broke a chair over the otherâs head. Matthias winced, and turned his dark eyes to the other young man.Â
âNow it h-has.â
Weighing his options for another moment, the young lieutenant got up eventually and made his way over to them.
The loud sound drew his attention back to the brawl and he was surprised that the other man even attempted to step in between them. He was thin, lanky, and wasnât of typical stature to stop the fight of two massive men. Noah winced and watched from the crowd anxiously. He would have helped if he didnât need to keep his promise to the captain that heâd stay out of trouble... but that was perhaps an excuse he came up with himself. He really hated getting hurt himself. It was the one thing that didnât agree with him and the job. But if things went too far... his hand went to his pocket where his slingshot was safely tucked inside.

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âTwentyâ That is absolutely ridiculous. This man is a crook!â
âWhat is it you were trying to purchase from the crook, if I may ask?â
The young man leaned against the bar, studying the building confrontation with sharp, appraising eyes, glancing to the other boy who spoke. He was greyhound thin with a look of hollowed out concentration, and the look in his large dark eyes was serious and calm. âYou canât s-stop every f-fight,â Matthias replied to him quietly. Â âS-sometimes people need to w-work t-things out by t-themselves, b-but if it g-gets of out h-handâ-â
His eyes lingered on the strangerâs. â âS-shouldnât s-someoneâ never w-works. Nothing gets done. âS-shouldnât Iâ is much better.
âIf youâre tryinâ to point out that Iâm doing wrong for just being a bystander, you can give it a rest. I donât see anyone else attempting to help, let alone you. You say that you canât stop every fight and that youâll step in if it goes too far, but whoâre you to judge, mate?â Noah shrugged and glanced back towards the fight, still wondering if he should try to stop them.
Taken aback by the sight of two rather large men making swipes at one another, Noah peered over the crowd with some interest. He frowned slightly once he realized it was just a bar fight and turned to the person next to him. âEr, shouldnât someone stop âem before they kill each other?â
BASIC INFORMATION
âI want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you canât see from the center.â
Full Name: Noah Roderick Ackerman Alias:Â â
Age: 20 Alliance: Pirate Position:Â Gunner of The Harpy
This character is portrayed by LOGAN LERMAN and is currently TAKEN.
THE PAST
Noah Ackerman lead a humble life. Because he was born during the waning years of the English Civil Wars, his mother and father believed that they were all the more blessed. They werenât wealthy aristocrats; they lived average lives struggling to get by like everybody else was. Yet, they spoiled Noah and treated him as if he were the son of a bureaucrat. They didnât want him to feel as if he was any less privileged than any other child in that age, and he was happy. Of course, he didnât know how much his parents offered him at the time. It wasnât until he was older that he realized how thankful he had to be for parents as caring and kindhearted as his. In 1654, another Anglo-Saxon war began and to evade the rising tension, Noah and his family began their long trek to safer parts of Europe. They were naĂŻve. Everywhere there was suffering; everywhere, a war.
His mother passed away on the long journeys between destination, and his father grew tired and weak of mind not long after that. He settled in a town in Spain, working as a farmer to feed himself and Noah, but was never the same once his wife died. He raised Noah with a strong hand and became less concerned with giving him everything he wanted, and more adamant about teaching him what he needed. Growing up in such an environment, Noah never forgot his motherâs optimism and hope for the three of them. He sought to relief his fatherâs troubles and worries through laughter. It was a struggle trying to get the stubborn man to smile let alone laugh, but Noah was relentless and persistent. Soon, he and his father restored a semblance of their happy family and for years they were content with living their lives on the farm. Noah spent his days in the field, helping his father with the chores, and nights whittling away at a pan flute he had started to craft when he first arrived in Spain. Heâd look up at the stars and choose the brightest one to claim for his mother. He had high hopes for himself and he knew that he wasnât meant to be a farmerâs boy for the rest of his life. There was so much more out there than the little strip of land his father owned.
Noah was a dreamer; he knew it and wasnât afraid to admit it. He occasionally suggested that he and his father make their way back to their home in Britain, but each attempt was met with firm disagreement. Eventually, he and his father grew apart. They had different interestsâdifferent aspirations. Noah wanted to do moreâto be more⌠so he left. He snuck onto a fishermanâs boat and somehow ended up the farthest south heâd ever been: in Saudi Arabia bordering the Arabian Sea. According to the fisherman who he befriended en route, they had traveled through the Red Sea to make it there. Noah was ecstatic to be in uncharted territory, but if he were asked to retrace his steps up to the point where he managed to get aboard The Harpy, he wouldnât know what to say. All he had was his pan flute, his most prized possession, and stories from his travels there. Heâs cheerful and mischievous, and though heâs younger than most on the ship, he has no problems fitting in. If anything, The Harpy is exactly where he needed to be; he was a boy forced to grow up too quickly, but now has the leisure of reliving his childhood with mirth. The world was too great for one person to waste time not traveling it.
THE PRESENT
Aboard The Harpy, Noah serves as the mood maker. He often livens up the ship with his jokes and stories, keeping everyone entertained as best as he could. In his free time, he crafts figurines out of wood or other creations out of sheer boredom⌠or so he says to avoid feeling embarrassed. He has talented hands and he works hard; itâs the one thing heâs entirely confident in given that he has years of experience with hard labour. He picks up the work that other crewmembers canât do despite being the gunner aboard the ship, and helps out wherever he can. That doesnât mean that he doesnât get his share of laughs by playing pranks on others though. Noahâs quite the devilâs advocate. However, underneath it all, heâs just a boy searching for his place in the world. He sends letters to his father back in Spain; he serenades his mother in the heavens at night with his flute; now, he looks towards Tortuga for perhaps the answers to the questions heâs been waiting for.
CONNECTIONS
Other: The Harpy (crew)

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