an opportunity

willa netley / written by ava

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seaingxred·:

after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, ricardo just managed to fall asleep only to be awoken by the sound of a woman’s voice mere moments later. staying asleep was hard enough as it was and now he had to deal with this? “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” he groaned loudly as he tried to bury his head under a pillow. “i don’t – and i cannot stress this enough – care, get one of the other swabbies to do it.” because he assumed that was the only reason someone would interrupt him right now. after all he had no reason to suspect the tavern of accidentally double-booking the room.

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, resting her back against the grimy wall, and she watched as the figure shuffled and shifted. she hadn’t even noticed him awaken before he spoke and it startled her far more than she cared to admit. ❛ if there was a task for a swabbie right now i’d be gone and doin’ it. ❜ she leaned forward, ❛ there’s not much anyway, not till we set sail. ❜ he still hadn’t turned or made any other indication that he was going to leave.  ❛ this is my room by the way. you’re welcome to sleep for a bit but umm.. i’d like the bed eventually. i’m sure there are others open or if you need coin for one--- ❜ she traced the grooves in the floorboard, nails digging into them as she rambled. if anyone else here had been in this predicament they’d have grabbed him by the hair and thrown him out, she’d get there eventually.

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gvnpcwder·:

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 at the sound of something crunching under the weight of somebody else’s boot, Robin’s hand reaches for the weapon at her waist; slender fingers curling around the hilt of her favourite blade. She peers into the shadows, dark brown hues squinting but in the low lamp light of one of Nassau’s back alleys, she’s unsure if the noise had been the result of a deep rooted sense of paranoia from always looking over her shoulder for all those years or if something sinister truly lurked in the darkness. It could have easily been a drunken tourist, stumbling from a nearby tavern or one of the island’s escorts returning home from a dalliance with one of their suitors.·Not every bump in the night was a threat. Maybe so, Robin thought, but whoever lurked in the shadows would taste the steel of her blade first. Robin unsheathed her blade, flipped it in her hand and flung it without hesitation into the shadows. The blade sung through the air, burying itself into a nearby pine tree. ❛❛ Consider that a warning, ❜❜ She called out, reaching for another blade at her waist. ❛❛ The next one goes in your heart. ❜❜

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬, marisa thought to herself as she tried to keep her stumbling to a minimum. she’d gone and did it again, no thoughts to any consequences just the pure bliss of whiskey and sweet company -- not that there’d be any, not here at least. she was far from home and though her judgment was foggy with spirits fights were mostly kept to the taverns and brothels lining the shore. the jovial voices from the public were fading slowly around her as she walked further inland and she pulled a small flask from her hip, emptying on her tongue.

something sliced past her cheek as she pulled it down from her lips, the sting of an opening wound louder against her skin than any thought within her mind. she presses a finger against her cheekbone, barely making out the blood in the dark night. she turns her head to the tree behind her and the blade sticking out of it. ❛ is that a promise? ❜ marisa looks back in front of her, not seeing the figure beyond. ❛ because i would hate to see you miss. ❜ damn her vices, damn the liquor, the sex, but not really. not at all. what is life without pleasure, without pain.

[dearemma]

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[ bruna marquezine / cisfemale / 26 ] ❛ from over the ocean far [ marisa moraes ] has come from [ bounty hunting ] to sail upon the fortuna. marisa is known as the [ medusa ] on board, fitting considering they are quite [ reliable & hedonistic ]. supposedly that’s why the captain chose her to be her [ gunner ]. ❜ / ava. 21. est. she/her. 

here’s my second lady! willa is the softy but marisa will cut you.

i.

current position. gunner name. marisa “medusa” moraes age. 26 date of birth. august 5th  gender. female orientation. bisexual religion. hellenistic 

former ship. n/a former position. bounty hunter

ii.

faceclaim. bruna marquezine. hair. long, straight, brown. usually worn down or pulled up when working  height. 5″5′

iii.

mother. adrianna sousa † father. lucas moraes siblings. probably a bunch partner. n/a

iv.

* small details subject to change

marisa’s was raised by her father lucas, they were wealthy and high-class thanks to her father’s private clubs throughout brazil. the clubs were mostly gambling dens and used to transport stolen goods from the pirates on his payroll. she had no siblings in the house and they never spoke of her mother. marisa was never sure if it was because she died or because she left her father.

she never dreamed of leaving their town, the power they held over the citizens was too satisfying to let go. she expected to take over her father’s empire when he got too old and though her father never told her directly he did slowly start to groom her to do so.

at fourteen she started working for her father as a messenger between his clubs and employees. she ran money, information, anything that needed to be transported quickly and quietly on land. 

she got into fights with the local kids far more than she should, she didn’t win all of them but she fought dirty to get her kicks in. no one spoke to her after she pulled a knife that was hidden in her boot and stabbed the kid in the arm when he had her in a headlock. 

when she was sixteen she started working as a collector. it was a fun job, learning about the people she was tracking, figuring out where they’d be, how to get them alone. she failed her first job, she got too cocky, too ambitious and she ended up killing the man in a greasy alleyway. 

her success rate improved steadily following that incident and over the years her father’s wealth began to increase and the fear they imposed grew as well. it was around this time she realized she wasn’t that interested in being the head of the business, she liked getting her hands dirty, not sitting back and letting others do it for her. thankfully, when she was seventeen a man, around 20, came to her father claiming to be his son. 

she found out easily that he was just a false claimant, a few had tried over the years, but if she remained quiet they both could get something out of it. he would take over when lucas passed on and marisa would stay on the payroll doing whatever she wished.

his name was abel and he was marisa’s first for everything. 

at eighteen abel killed her father and sent every man he had at his disposal after marisa. she may have said she didn’t want it but her very existence was a threat to his new fortune. 

she’s hopped from ship to ship, from country to country, escaping the men searching for her, making coin by offering up her services. she took every job she could: finding a missing wife, killing a mistress, hunting a wild dog -- anything to afford a meal and a place to sleep. eventually, she started taking on bounties of local criminals, which went for much more than an adulterous husband, and her name started to get around. 

she was was already in nassau on a job when she heard about the crew biyu was hunting. she didn’t have much pirating experience, other than the few times she sailed with the pirates affiliated with her father but she was determined, even with a crew this large the treasure she was after was sure to fill her pockets for some time. 

[demelza]

Demelza in 2x05

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𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. sure the tavern below was bustling with every walk of life, herself included but she wasn’t exactly expecting a person to be passed out in the bed she had just paid for. she rubs her thumbs along the handles of the sash around her waist -- a small tick she picked up in the presence of strangers that she’s been working on stopping.  ❛ excuse me? ❜ she kept her distance as she called out towards the dozing figure, or at least she hoped they were. the room was bare of anything other than the bed and a small table, there was nothing to prod them awake with unless she wanted to bite the bullet and shove them herself. ❛ i’ll give them a few more minutes so they don’t shoot me. ❜

[antigonick]

“I had two longings and one was fighting the other. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to be always alone.”

— Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea

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𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

after leaving her husband willa went traveling on her own for a few months before landing in nassau. during these months willa and your muse met at a tavern and spent the night together before she slipped out in the morning, stomach rolling with guilt. though she left her husband she was still legally married and it only added to the stress of dealing with what she did to leave. when she sees you upon the fortuna she can barely look you in the eye, hoping you’ll take the cue to pretend that night never happened.

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

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highscas·.

she’d been cooing at the stray dog for what felt like hours now, luring it with little scraps of her own food in an attempt to befriend it despite knowing that she would soon have to board the fortuna and likely never see it again. regardless, kaia held out a small hunk of meat as it looked as though it were malnourished. as she baited it ever closer, a warm smile tugged at her lips as it moved closer. just as she was about to sing praises to the dog for trusting her, a shadow loomed above her and the dog quickly slinked away with its prize.

“hey!” she cried out indignantly, a pout sprouting on her features. “what did you do that for?”

𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭: most people were confusing to her. she understood social cues well enough, and she could read body language just as good as the next person but it’s the choices they make that have her wondering — what leads to them, how long do they mull it over before acting. it doesn’t keep her up at night but she does think on it from time to time. animals though, she’s never once had to question them. to her, all animals were good even when they were bad. she never had any growing up, her parents never wanted any around the house but when she could sneak away a few minutes from her siblings she could find a stray and spend the quiet moments with a friend.

❛ oh , i’m sorry ! ❜ she reaches her hands out not sure what she’s trying to do. ❛ i didn’t mean to scare it off, i swear.  i thought i was being quiet. ❜

[starlitmemes]

A series of headcanon asks to delve more in-depth with what makes the muses tick! Questions range from the obscure to the obvious so as to dig further into a muse’s life and habits.

Be sure to specify muses for multi-muse blogs!

Coral Fragments: How well does your muse deal with stress? Do they do anything in particular to help them deal with it, and if so what do they do? 

Rosy Fog: What are their immediate views on romantic love?

Rosy Haze: Do they react well when they develop feelings for someone and if not why?

Rosy Touch: How do they show affection nonverbally? Are they likely to show affection with their words as well?

Apatite Chatter: Are they the friendly sort or do they prefer to let others start off interactions with them?

Apatite Tic: Does your muse have any sort of verbal tics or impediments?

Garnet Shadows: Is your muse apt to stab someone in the back in any way? If so, would they admit to doing so or would they lie to cover it up?

Garnet Shine: How devoted are they to their loved ones? Would this devotion delve into the obsessive side?

Garnet Core: What sorts of things would they be willing to do for friends? For family? For their significant other(s)?

Amethyst Terrors: Are their nights plagued with past memories or nightmares in general? What do they usually entail if so?

Amethyst Calm: How do they usually sleep, in what position? Do they like plenty of pillows, blankets and/or plush toys?

Makeshift Stone: What does their internet search history usually include? Are there any parts of their searches that they’re embarrassed by?

Cracked Cement: Are they adept at using technology of any kind or do they typically need help with it?

Brickwork Shadows: Is your muse good with their hands, or do they tend to be fairly clumsy?

Sapphire Depths: Do they prefer to think ahead or to leap right in and wing things?

Sapphire Beacon: What kinds of things inspire your muse and does your muse tend to inspire others?

Selenite Pillars: Does your muse think they’re mentally or physically strong? Is this belief true or only something the muse believes to be true?

Aventurine Calling: Do they believe in luck? If so, would they consider themselves lucky or unlucky?

Fluorite Cloud: If they had the opportunity, would they prefer to know what’s going to happen in the future or not? Why?

Fluorite Bearings: How strongly do they listen to their intuition? Is their intuition usually correct or incorrect?

Peridot Ghosts: What kind of things get them frazzled or anxious? Do they tend to handle them well or get swept up in the moment?

Moonstone Luster: Are there are any items they own that have sentimental value to them?

Diamond Kiss: What kind of clothing and accessories do they prefer to wear? Are there are any particular reasons outside of general comfort that they like wearing these?

Coal Dust: Can they withstand manual labor? Do they avoid manual labor as much as possible, and if so, why?

Prehnite Memory: How good is their memory? Has it always been like this or did something happen to make it this way?

Bismuth Hue: Are they sickly or get sick often?

Bismuth Aid: What sort of medication, if any do they have to take, if any? Do they refuse to take it, forget to take it, or do they prefer to keep on it?

Quartz Cluster: What kind of textures (e.g. silky, rough, slick, etc) do they prefer?

Jade Ambition: How ambitious is your muse and what are their current goals? To what ends will they go to to make those wishes a reality?

Jade Gain: How well do they manage their money?

Amazonite Comfort: What sorts of things bring your muse comfort in trying times? Are there any habits they have when things get difficult to help cope?

Amazonite Shade: Are they pessimistic, optimistic or somewhere in the middle? Was there anything that happened to them in their life that caused them to think in this way?

Topaz Storm: Is your muse the creative type in any way? How do they usually express their creativity?

Topaz Tears: Do they have any sort of outlet they use as a means to cope (e.g. writing, drawing, playing music, etc.)? How’d they get into it if they do?

Topaz Calling: Do they have anything that they have natural talent in? If so do they enjoy doing it or is it something they tend to forget about?

Ruby Craze: Are they a passionate person or do they tend to be more down-to-earth?

Ruby Light: Are they the sort to wear their heart on the sleeve? If not, why?

Citrine Focus: Are they able to multi-task or do they prefer to keep at one thing at a time?

Opal Wonder: How big is their imagination? Do they tend to share these ideas or keep them to themselves?

Opal Sky: Do they tend to get lost in their own thoughts/daydreams?

[cutlss]

boatswaiin·:

the brunette examined the golden hoops, turning them over between her fingers. she couldn’t help the siren call of all things shiny and gold, sakina was a girl who had gone from nothing to having anything she wanted with the glint of her dagger, it was like dangling a carrot in front of a rabbit. “you know, they bring good luck. gold hoops. if you don’t have holes already, i’m known to be quite the piercer. i almost never miss the lobe.”

❛ oh! ❜ willa’s hands raised to her ears, pressing the tips of her fingers against the lobe. ❛ i’ve never thought about it before -- does it hurt much? not that i’d mind, well perhaps i might. i’m just not as used to pain as most of the others here. ❜ her eyes fall onto the hoops in sakina’s hands, they were quite beautiful. ❛ are you sure you don’t want them for yourself? ❜ 

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gvnpcwder‌.

     𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 ice wrapped cloth against his nose to staunch the blood, head tipped backwards to further prevent any more blood spilling onto his linen shirt. ❛❛ I said I’m fucking fine!  ❜❜ He cast his companion a sidelong glower; their aid and assistance only unfurling something dark and ugly in his stomach. It was one thing to be pistol whipped in the face, it was another to have it done by some prick with a shit eating grin who declared Henry’s own pistols as his prize. As if his humiliation wasn’t fucking enough. ❛❛ If you want to be helpful then pour me a fucking drink and stop pussy footing around me. ❜❜

willa huffed at his tone as quietly as she could, the air from her mouth causing a few fly-away hairs to bounce in the air. she can’t complain too heavily though, crass is something pirates carry in spades and she did sign her name ‘pon the dotted line. ❛ i was only going to say you should be tiltin’ your head forward. ❜ she reaches her hand out and then quickly snatches it back -- turns towards the bottles on the counter. she grabs one of them and pours it into a smudged glass, it sloshes over the side and she looks back at him before downing it herself only to cough as slides down her throat, burning all the way down. ❛ that is positively vile! ❜ willa repours the glass and hands it to him, her face twisted in disgust. ❛ i don’t know how you stomach this but if it will have you quiet for a moment, here. ❜

[cutlss]

hi everyone! i’m ava and it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been in the rp scene but i'm super stoked to explore these characters with all of you. 

[ eleanor tomlinson / cisfemale / 27 ] ❛ from over the ocean far [ willa netley ] has come from [ wifehood ] to sail upon the fortuna. WILLA is known as the [ green ] on board, fitting considering they are quite [ intrepid & naive ]. supposedly that’s why the captain chose her to be her [ swabbie ]. ❜ / ava. 21. est. she/her.

i.

current position. swabbie name. willa “the green” sweete netley age. 27 date of birth. october 20th gender. female orientation. straight/questioning  religion. catholic.

former ship. n/a former position. wife :/

ii.

faceclaim. eleanor tomlinson hair. red, wild curls, usually pulled back height. 5″6′

iii.

mother. agnes netley (nee tallmadge) father. abraham netley siblings. benjamin, adam, hannah, edward, alice and george. partner. nathaniel sweete n/a

iv.

tw // abortion

willa was the second born child and first daughter to agnes and abraham netley. her mother always told her what a quiet child she was, only cried once or twice until she stopped altogether. after her came the rest of the netley offspring -- adam, hannah, edward, alice and george. benjamin was the eldest of them all but he was gone as soon as he was able.

they weren’t a rich family by any means. they owned some land through inheritance but her father worked incredibly hard to keep the growing family afloat through difficult times, taking time off the farm to work at the local carpenters, leaving the fields to willa and her siblings. her mother wasn’t one for working, nor was she one for mothering. when she was old enough to feed herself agnes had her daughter feeding the others until willa was spending her every waking hour caring for her siblings rather than herself.

she found moments of course, to be alone. small morsels of time -- the late hours of the night, the early mornings, even a stolen second during a walk when she makes a turn she’s not suppose and presses her back against a tree, takes a breath longer than she needs to. is this what it feels like to be a mother?

benjamin came to visit from time to time. he told tales of the ocean and all the far off lands. willa listened to him talk for hours, enraptured. 

when she’s 22 she’s married off to nathaniel sweete. he’s an officer in his majesty’s royal army. she’s barely said two words to him before he’s pressing his lips to hers in front of their families and she thinks she could wants this. it doesn’t have to be an obligation like the rest of her life, she could love him. except she never sees him. he’s gone for weeks at a time and she’s left alone in their home. when he does come back she only sees him at night.

a child never came into the picture and though it saddened willa, nathaniel could barely look at her anymore. his friends wives were carrying their second or third, their mistresses on their first. they try and try again.

she’s 26 now. nathaniel is away. her bleed hasn’t come when it’s due. instead of the happiness she expected, willa’s stomach turns to to stone. years of trying, of tear, of fights -- everything could be fine now, nathaniel wouldn’t look at her with such disdain, they could be a family -- but she knows she can’t do this. a life of serving others, a life doing what others wanted and expected of her, never a moment to herself unless it was stolen. she doesn’t want that for the rest of it. 

she’s never wanted anything before. she doesn’t know how to go about it. but once she realized it; the floodgates are open. there are so many things she’d like to try, places she’d like to go. she wants adventure, danger, romance. to feel alive would be something grand. 

there are so many mothers with their handfuls of children. no one would miss her nor the one she was growing so she brewed some tea, a special tea she had heard in hushed whispers, in dark corners. she doesn’t know if it works. there’s a pain in her stomach, it burns all the way down but she can’t be sure. she doesn’t want to wait around and find out.

she spends the next few months travelling to all the places her brother described. she turns 27 just as the boat pulls into the harbour on nassau. on the island she rents a room in a lodge, it’s small just as she’s accustomed to. her stomach hasn’t swelled in the time past and her bleed has come and gone a couple of times. she can live as she wishes.

v.

wanted connections.

 this will be updated later because i have no brain cells right now but i’m open to plotting of course!

[morwennacarne]

[ladyofvalyria]