#trucidavit

SEND  TRY + A CHARACTER  YOU’D LIKE TO SEE ME ( ATTEMPT ) TO WRITE ! | Accepting

She would never get the hang of this.

There was an almighty crunch as the car jolted forward, and her hands tightened on the wheel as frustration threatened to explode like the ticking time bomb it was. Why on earth people had decided this was an acceptable means of travel, she didn’t know. It was just yet another thing to add to the list of reasons she detested not having her magic.

@trucidavit (from here)

If there was anything men could be counted on for, it was getting lost in the drama of their own thoughts, of their own making. The lieutenant was no different. If anything, he was a shining example of the rule.

“Mm.” Miranda hummed, regarding him for a moment before leaning forward to speak quietly. “I’ll call for your coat.” Retracting her hand, she stood, flashing a smile as she rang the bell to be attended to. Let him suffer momentarily in thinking she was simply dismissing him for his inattention.

James blinked at her, evidently caught off-guard; he rose instinctively as Miranda did, eyes following her with open confusion. He had not expected to be dismissed so quickly, and wasn’t quite sure what the cause might be. His heart sank, just a little. 

↪a court of thorns and roses sentence starters // @trucidavit // accepting        ↪ james flint

       Hope? What is hope buta tool, like any other. Kept in a scabbard of a man’s ribcage,sharpened with their emotions. Flint had used hope as a tool, he hadused hope to manipulate his crew, to manipulate a situation into hisfavour.

I’m not just gonnamake you rich. I’m not just gonna make you strong. I’m gonna make youthe princes of the New World!

Wordshe had told his men once. Words to give them hope. Words to gethimself out of a corner he was backed into. But he would not goquietly, he was all teeth and claws and broken, sharpened edges.

Hopewas his, hope was plans made in front of the fire, warmwhiskey kisses and gentle touches. The smell of parchment and ink onhis skin as they had poured over their ideas—his ideals.

Flintsighed heavily as he reached up to run a hand through his hair,scraping it back against his scalp as he tried to shake away the memories.

“Yes, and one that’s been made so much harder for today’s mistakes,” he insists, irate--before catching himself, and taking a breath. “I...apologize,” he says, after a moment. “None of this is your fault, of course, I just...”

Weathering a storm. Never realizing it, she had spent a decade in the eye of a hurricane. Evidently, both storms and crushing silence could be weathered if you were too stubborn to do anything else but weather.

“You could retire and take up being governor of Nassau with that attitude.” The easy comment wasn’t entirely idle. Thomas was long dead, and Woodes Rogers was a monster in the making. Most didn’t see it for what it was, but she knew a dark mirror of James when she saw it. He would never stop. He couldn’t, any more than anyone else could stop breathing.

“These men respect you.” Miranda continued, the transition into the more fraught being made smoothly. “The captains will not. Or anyone else on the beach or the street. And Woodes Rogers is beyond reasoning. He would burn the island to the ground before willingly listen to anyone, even had you the King’s voice from your mouth.” A pause, a slight sigh. “That island is its own conscious monster.”

Hands which should have held on tighter now become fists, not because of rage directed at her; no, she is the glow of moonlight upon the waves at night / her presence is one he needs to guide him just as much as he needs the stars, even if prayers were directed at the stars and not the moon herself.    “    Governor of Nassau    ?    And what would you have me do there.    ” 

“That’s decidedly optimistic of you, but I’m not about to let you bleed out, not if I can help it.” John half laughed, smiling at her as he applied pressure to her wound. He was worried for her, if he was honest, but he didn’t want to show that to her. He’d found that when someone was staring down death as she was, it wasn’t exactly helpful to point that out, it either sent them scrambling away out of panic or they shut down entirely, neither reaction being particularly conducive to survival. 

“♠: Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.“