[ Alex HΓΈgh Andersen, cis man, thirty years old, he/him ] for the crimes of piracy MAGNUS HAMMARSTRΓM / BLUE-EYED DEVIL is hereby wanted. Those who surrender them dead or alive to the crown will receive TWO HUNDRED pounds. Theyβre famously known to be part of the RAIDER'S REVENGE as their CAPTAIN. Before engaging be warned as they can be AGGRESSIVE & VENGEFUL, but if youβre lucky theyβll be LOYAL & UNDERSTANDING. Legends say that when you speak their name youβre reminded of THE SCENT OF A COMING STORM, KNIVES STABBED INTO A TABLE, FLAMES LICKING THE EDGES OF A MAP.
full name: Oliver William Magnus HammarstrΓΆm Howard
alias: Blue-Eyed Devil (Ollie, Viking, Handsome in the past)
age: 30 y.o.
date of birth: August 9th
gender: cis man; he/him
romantic status: single
nationality: English, Swedish
languages spoken: English, Swedish, Latin, German, French and Spanish
birthplace: Bath, Somerset
current residence: Tortuga
Oliver Howard, the third son of a renowned English nobleman, had spent years living in the shadow of his two brothers - his father's favoured sons, simply because⦠they resembled him. Not only in looks, but in temperament as well. Or at least, that's what their father believed. He valued obedience above all and saw it as the highest virtue.
Ollie, as his loved ones called him, was a child with a fiery temper who refused to listen to his tutors and preferred to act on his own, showing his strength of character and making bold decisions thanks to his quick mind. His parent did not appreciate or like this rebelliousness, and when he realized that his son did not have the qualities of his noble brothers - who fit into society like a glove - he pushed him aside, giving him only the cold regard he thought a wayward son deserved.
Rumour had it that Oliver had inherited the wild blood of his Scandinavian mother. And perhaps there was truth to it. Lady Ingrid HammarstrΓΆm adored her third child, and he was the one she taught everything about her native Sweden - including the language, which he picked up with remarkable ease. A few years later, little Lady Howard was born, a blessing to her older brother, whom she loved dearly.
Still, the lack of recognition from the patriarch of the family became an obsession. The young lord wanted to prove himself, to show that his father had misjudged him. But no matter how hard he tried, his efforts went unnoticed, even though many in English high society saw Oliver's potential and his undeniable leadership qualities. This led to an invitation to travel to the New World and the opportunity to make important commercial deals - a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that could not be easily dismissed. Finally, the moment had come to prove himself to his father and to everyone else.
Oliver Howard departed from Portsmouth aboard the Queen Elizabeth on June 7th, 1722 - and never set foot on English soil again.
Magnus HammarstrΓΆm came into being through circumstances few could imagine or survive. The Queen Elizabeth was attacked in the Caribbean sea by pirates of the Raider's Revenge, and most of the crew was taken captive to be sold into slavery. The same fate awaited Oliver - if not for the fact that he was the son of a wealthy English lord. A ransom was demanded for him, but his father never sent a reply agreeing to pay the money, giving up on his child, thinking he was being blackmailed, when in fact his son was lying at the bottom of the ocean. Oliver's fate seemed sealed - death or slavery - but his untamed spirit proved to be an advantage this time, winning him the favour of the captain, who ultimately decided to keep him on the crew. He chose his name when news reached the ship that his mother and her family were ready to send the requested sum for Oliver's freedom. He refused to return to England, deciding that life on the stormy seas was for him, not the life of a wealthy lord's son. He chose to bear the name his mother had given him in her honour, showing that he was proud of his roots and completely renouncing his father's legacy.
Magnus was often teased by the other pirates, who made fun of his ignorance, his education, and his speech, which was radically different from theirs. At first, they called him "Viking" and "Handsome" ironically, making up all kinds of stories and spinning tales about him in every port to create an image of him as a fearless Norseman, not a novice who was still learning everything. Over time, however, the young man became better and better, revealing his talents and using his temperament to the benefit of the common cause. The old captain grew genuinely fond of him - becoming the closest thing to a father figure Magnus had ever known.
Unfortunately, on a night as dark as the abyss, a mutiny broke out. A small group of traitors ambushed the crew, killed the captain, and took control of the Raiderβs Revenge for several days. The rest were forced to choose: submit or die. Magnus had no desire to become shark bait when his whole being was filled with such hatred and desire for revenge. He knew it was only a matter of time before they killed him - his respect for the old captain was no secret to anyone, and only the quarrels among the mutineers had helped him stay alive. During this time, the young pirate wasted no time thinking about his next move and the possibility of regaining control of the ship. With cunning, speed, and the support of loyal crew members, Magnus struck back. The traitors were overthrown and punished without mercy. That night, drenched in blood and victory, he earned the respect of the entire crew and his place as the new captain of the ship. With that came his true nickname - Blue-Eyed Devil. A warning to anyone who dared to stand in his way.
that smile, all barbed teeth and forked tongue, made no friendly appearance of his face. hanna didn't need to be considered a seer to be able to picture the flesh he could tear from bone with that devilish grin that never seemed to cease. only a fool would trust that smile, and she felt like it would be the last thing they would see in the dark before their end. perhaps it would be her undoing too, though it was not a belief she put much faith into.
"the fish will follow the shark to hide under its fins, because it is safer there than it is to try and outswim the shark." she replied plainly, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes that could suggest playfulness, if it were possible that she could offer someone like magnus that.
hanna noted his unrelenting gaze, his stance, the way his eyes flickered with something wild and untamed like he was expecting a fight. "do you think i will hurt you?" she expected he might laugh and mock her for the small creature that she was, it was his way after all, but she was trying to reach whatever lay beneath that twisted grin. "my blade is not destined to spill your blood, magnus. does yours thirst for mine?"
The Blue-Eyed Devil tilted his head to one side, looking at Hanna without a hint of shame. He wanted to make her feel uncomfortable, but more than anything he needed a little time to think about his answer. He wasn't going to stop teasing her, but he wondered how far he could go and whether it would be acceptable to cross the boundaries between them. After all, the two were rivals, perhaps even enemies, so he could afford to treat the brunette differently. He thought he didn't want to draw her captain's further wrath, but did he really care? Not really.
"I like how you're trying to stroke my ego with your words, but it's perfectly clear to me that you're not a fish hiding behind a shark. Many may underestimate you, but you are also a predator" Magnus said with a smile, shaking his head slightly in disagreement.
He took a step forward, approaching Hanna, who probably did not expect this kind of closeness between them. They might have enjoyed cooing at each other like this, but that would have risked much more than a few minutes spent together.
"Who said harm is only measured in blood? Yes, that is the most obvious outcome expected of rivals like us, but there are other ways that can end just as badly." He reached out and his fingers lightly touched her chin, caressing it. "I won't kill you, dear Hana. I wouldn't want to deprive myself of your pleasant company. I hope you don't want to lose mine either."
Her smile crept along her skin like ink running through oil, slow and dangerous, eating up inch by inch until it had tucked into the corners of her eyes. Excitement drummed low and steady, a duel of wits and words, who's going to blink first? To be plucked, pulled, untangled, at the will to be known. It was a feast, and Josephine couldn't help but let the marrow lay on her tongue as the juice dripped down her face.
Magnus laid out his map of her and read the ledger, as if he'd scavenged the path himself, found its treasures, and placed it to rest. How gratifying it might be to tell someone the truth, she thought, and how much more gratifying it would be for him to have figured it all out on his own. The embers of her past sparkled around his narrative, and she grinned, playfully entertained by his knife tricks.
"And I was right too," she hummed like the flame of a candle, "you are cleverer than you want to appear."
Then, a shudder between them, like a crash of lightning, and his attention abducted elsewhere, a canon aimed at an enemy. Or, no, she considered, perhaps something less sinister; the urgency in him, the tautness of his muscles, the nature of feeling caught rather than on the hunt. Somewhere, low and away, the pages of her memory book flickered and spun, smoldering from the decade-old fire she'd set to it. Jo's eyes pinched at the corners, just for a moment, the flash of a furrow taking over her expression. Knowing fluttered in the warm part of her belly, but its name remained buried, a mystery on purpose.
His voice caressed the edge of her hearing, laying a balm on her skin like the sun and water together. Breath that had once been forced into his lungs from fright carried with waning effort. Jo leaned in, as if to inhale the very musk of his emotions and claim them as her own. No, evil was not what she would call him.
"Mmm," she muttered, as if lost in thought and somehow entirely present, as she reached to feel two fingers across his hairline and down the path behind his ear to tuck away the strays, getting a better look. Twilight danced on the rims of his eyes, clear water, suddenly melted from their icy facades. The place where the earth met the sky. "You look as if you've seen..." She left a trail, smudges of memory lingering on her lips, as she scanned his once-impermeable face, now cracked by something. Something. "A ghost." Jo's breath came in soft, sharp, and left without an answer. "I have a comb in my bag and some rum besides. Come on. Can't send you back to your crew looking like that." A comment that could have residence about his hair or his expression - he was free to choose. She stood, removing her hat once again and this time, offering a hand to the captain, all soft skin and no claws. "Join me in my room," words without costume, bare and sincere, "Captain Blue Eyes?"
Magnus came to his senses quickly, regaining his composure. His expression, betraying his inner struggle with memories of the past, quickly shifted to the familiar haughty look that everyone knew all too well. The captain narrowed his eyes, studying the face of Voss and looking for any possible consequences of his slight distraction. The name Oliver could have belonged to any man he had met in his life - enemies, friends, brothers in arms, officers of the Crown. She had no way of knowing that he had carried that name until recently, and that somewhere far from here, it still belonged to him.
His lips curved into a semblance of a smile as his eyes pierced those of the blonde. The Blue-Eyed Devil realized too late what he had whispered a few seconds ago and couldn't help but be angry with himself for the moment of inattention he had allowed himself. What was behind her invitation? If it had been any other woman, he would have given her proposal much less thought, but Voss was a member of his enemies' crew - it was unlikely to be a simple favor. The captain hadn't endured so much only to lose his life so easily over a woman.
"Why don't we go to my room?" the pirate suggested with a slight growl. "And why should we go there at all? Do you need peace and quiet for a simple hairstyle? Or maybe you have something else in mind? You are a beautiful woman, but I do not intend to end up in bed with you, if that's what you're after."
He couldn't be sure of his words, but he preferred to push her away with his behavior to spare himself the unpleasant moment when he would show his bad temper and possibly strain the already poor relations between the two crews.
"Do you really think I would follow you so foolishly?" laughed the Blue-Eyed Devil and shook his head. "You yourself would never do such a thing. Why should I?"
He leaned back and reached into a hidden pocket in his trousers to pull out the small coin purse to pay for his drink. He took out a few coins and then placed them on the table, covering them with his hand.
"sit still." nima scolded, her face the picture of concentration as she held both hands either side of the wound at magnus' waist. she was examining the edges, trying to figure out how much of a clean closure she could manage without much debridement, and it didn't help that her patient kept wriggling. "you want to get comfortable? next time don't get into whatever fight led to this." she was direct at best, perhaps sometimes harsh at worst, but the price of doing so much to help weighed heavily on her sometimes.
she glanced up at him, softening slightly, regaining a little of her bedside manner. "well, go on then." she muttered, a slight glint in her eye as the corners of her lips betrayed a smile. "don't most pirates want to tell the tales of their wounds? won't make it any easier for me, but this is going to hurt, so i'd advise you take the distraction."
He was silent, but his expression revealed everything that was going on inside him, and it was anything but pleasant. He had failed to reach the Revenge to seek Bartholomew's help, and had stumbled upon the familiar road to Nima purely by chance, thanks to a stroke of luck. His blue eyes followed the brunette, as if he feared she was torn between saving him and killing him. He trusted her somewhat, but they all lived in turbulent times, and often good friends turned out to be enemies under certain circumstances.
"I wasn't particularly lucky in this fight, but others were less fortunate than me," said the captain, but his smile was nothing like the one that usually graced his face - this one was completely grotesque and distorted. It betrayed the pain he felt in that moment. "I don't have much to boast about - three men attacked me from behind. I dealt with them, but I'm not proud of myself, for I never even recognized them."
The pirate hissed, clenching his teeth to keep from letting out an unwitting groan. He refused to show weakness even in so dire a moment. His pride - so great and such a driving force in his life - would not allow him to reveal any part of himself that was not for others to see.
"Why did you agree to help me so easily?" Magnus asked suddenly, looking at Nima. "I suppose you want a favor from me. Is that right?"
He tried to laugh, but what left his lips was only a poor imitation of laughter.
the brush of his fingers along her cheek sent a flicker of fire through her, but she did not falter. instead, her gaze sharpened, taking him in fully β the crooked smile, the deliberate weight behind each word, the storm behind those blue eyes. her hand stayed pressed against his chest, feeling the quiet truth beneath it, the rhythm of a man who bore more than he revealed. βall to yourself?β she echoed, voice a soft drawl, curved like a blade hidden in silk. her lips lifted faintly, enough to suggest amusement, challenge, and the barest thread of admiration all at once. βand risk,β she murmured, tilting her head so the moonlight caught the planes of her face, βthat i would rather burn the tide than kneel for coin or comfort β do you truly think a storm like me can be held in a single harbor?β her hand rose, tracing a deliberate line along the edge of his jaw, fingertips brushing without pressure, light as a whisper yet certain in intent. βwalls, high or low, do not deter me. they excite me. the more a man hides, the more i wish to see what lies beneath. you ask what i am willing to riskβ¦ i will risk the calm, the deceit, the illusions every other man thinks he wears to protect himself. i will risk patience, i will risk temper, i will risk the edge of my own restraint to stand here with you, magnus.β she leaned closer, so close that the salt-laden air between them was shared, her lips near enough to stir against the shell of his ear. βand as for being yours alone,β she breathed, low and precise, βi do not belong to what cannot match my fire. i do not scatter like driftwood. if i give you this β my tide, my storm, my pulse β it will not be with half a heart, half a will, or half a desire. you may claim me, but only if you are prepared to stand in the waves with me, and not run when the swell threatens to swallow you.β her eyes lifted to meet his, steel beneath the softness, a glimmer of triumph playing at the curve of her lips. βso ask yourself, blue-eyed devilβ¦ are you willing to endure what it takes to truly hold me? or are your walls only meant to keep the timid at bay?β she let the question hang, a challenge and an invitation entwined, and the boathouse groaned again beneath the tide, echoing the weight of their choices β an intimate reckoning whispered in the dark, salt-heavy air.
It sounded too good to be true, and Magnus knew how treacherous dreams and desires could be. They brought happiness, yes, but they also had the power to destroy, and all too often they led to ruin for him to rush into such an adventure without thinking. Perhaps he would have done so if he had been alone and had nothing to lose, but behind him stood his entire crew, who trusted him and depended on him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, clenching his teeth to gather his thoughts and chase away the desire to respond to Cassia's actions. No, he would not give in to the emotions that the temptress had awakened in him. He knew nothing about her, nothing that could make him believe the beautiful words she wove so easily. His fingers found her lips, which were so close to his, and instead of giving her the kiss they both probably longed for so deeply, he caressed them gently.
"I can weather any storm and would do anything for the one who wins my heart," Magnus whispered to her, "but to do that, I must trust this woman, and I don't trust you."
He didn't know if his words had hurt her - he hadn't meant them to, but he wasn't going to hide the truth from her, leaving her to wonder if he was cruel or merely a coward. He had no mercy for his enemies, but she wasn't one of them, and with her, he could not act wrongly.
"I know nothing about you, you know nothing about me. We judge each other by our covers, which are too beautiful, but what lies between the pages? How dramatic each of our stories is, how much have we been hurt, what pain do we still hold in our hearts and cannot let go?" The pirate paused for a moment, watching Cassia's face and every change that would appear on it. "I can't be with you if I don't trust you. Everything else is your choice."
He took a step back, separating himself from her and shattering the fragile intimacy they had shared until then. His gaze did not let her out of his sight, and the brunette could see in it that she was free to do as she saw fit. He would not force her to stay with him - he was giving her the choice to seek and find the storm she thought was worthy of her. He was used to being alone and did not mind staying that way until his last hour.
Bartholomew noticed Magnus's smile even if his friend tried to hide it. Magnus had known Bartholomew well enough that his assumptions were usually right about him. Bartholomew would appreciate the assistance.
"Thank you my friend" He accepted the deal gratefully.
Bartholomew was disappointed at Magnus's answer. If anything he was hoping to go somewhere science was more accessible to him. Bartholomew's research would surely fall behind if he stayed any longer. "We can all hope for that" Nothing was ever predictable in real life.
He finished organizing his stores and noticed he was low on Ginger. "I have to go ashore and retrieve some herbs" Bartholomew said with some finality. With that he gave a nod to Magnus, and disembarked to Tortuga. "I'll be back later tonight"
The captain nodded at Bartholomew's words, still pondering the important questions that he sometimes tried to ignore, but which always found him in the end. He remained silent for a few minutes, leaving his friend alone with his thoughts and responsibilities. He ran his fingers over his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed there, and a quiet sigh escaped his lips. Sometimes he wondered if he had chosen such a difficult life himself or if fate had decided everything for him and now he had to deal with the storm raging in his soul and in the world around him.
"Do you mind if I go ashore with you? I hope you don't have a meeting that I'll ruin with my presence - at least in the first few minutes."
His lips curved into a slight smile, wondering if his friend would ever give new love a chance, finding his soul mate who would stay with him despite the complicated pirate life that frightened many. Still, Magnus hoped to see him happy one day - he wanted nothing less than that.
Mary settled into the room trying to calm herself. She rarely visited the brothel and when she did, it was usually to catch up with a friend and no more. The Captian wanted to know more about Mary's past. "Why?" It was a simple question from Mary. "My tenure as a captain ended in a massacre. There's not much else to know afterwards" She got lost in her mind as she gazed out the small window. "I've been stealing small things and surviving on scraps to get by ever since, doing anything to survive." Mary turned her gaze to Magnus. How lucky he was to still have his own crew. "I clawed my way to Tortuga because the pirate who hurt me is here. I will kill him if its the last thing I do" There was a dark tone to Mary's last sentence.
"But tell me about yourself, Captian" Mary had not crossed paths with The Raider's Revenge since Magnus took over as captain. She remembered they were fearsome, but Mary was usually smart enough to steer The Wicked in the opposite direction.
Magnus had approached the small window in the room and was watching what was happening outside, trying to be prepared for any possible turn of events. Although his eyes were wandering, he listened carefully to Mary's words, reflecting on what had happened to her. Her fate had not been easy, and he could only commend her for her courage and her fight to stay alive. Only the strong survived in this cruel world, and the captain knew this better than anyone.
"Do you intend to return to piracy?" Magnus asked suddenly, wondering if he would ever see her again under different circumstances - on another ship, or even on the Revenge. "Who is it you want to punish, or is it a secret you don't want to reveal?"
The pirate had no intention of prying into other people's business, but he was curious to learn more about what had happened, and why not one day win her over to his side, making her a member of his crew.
"I thought I was famous enough, that my name walked the streets of Tortuga before I did," Magnus laughed, mocking himself and the image he had created with his own and others' help. "I don't know what else to tell you about myself, Mary. Ask, if you like."
His shoulders rose slightly and he turned his head to meet her gaze.
her eyes narrowed, though not unkindly, as if she couldn't decide whether to laugh at him or strike him for the nerve. "do you think i am envious?" the words rolled off her tongue with vitriol, lip curling at the thought. the smallest laugh escaped her again, bitten back by her teeth, and she spoke with conviction despite the slight colour washing her cheeks. "i wish to stay as far from your attention as possible. i would relish knowing i never crossed your mind."
hanna tilted her head at his laughter, her jaw twitching as it flexed with the clench of her teeth. she did not rise to his bait, though there was a quiet spark in her dark eyes that betrayed the stir of amusement she was too careful to voice. "i never claimed to be obedient." her tone was calm, deliberate, each word dropped like a stone into still water. "but there is a difference between knowing when to bow your head, or leading it straight into the noose." hanna had mastered the art of self preservation, and would not feel ashamed for how she kept herself alive.
she let her gaze rest on him for an unwavering moment, the steady weight of it carrying more than defiance. there was something else there, something she could not name. she had seen pieces of him before, in flickers and shadows, never whole, never lasting. a storm brewing on the horizon, a tide that pulled too strong, a hand outstretched in the dark. he was dangerous, yes, but danger was not always a death sentence.
"why do you take offence to what i see in you when it is all you allow others to see?" she narrowed her eyes as she questioned him, trying to figure out if she could catch a glimpse of light in the darkness he shrouded himself with, even if it was just in the brightness of his eyes. "you have killed for less, have you not?"
He watched Hanna with obvious interest and acknowledged each of her words with a slight nod. If it weren't for his broad, cocky smile, he would have looked like a serious and thoughtful man weighing her confessions. But Magnus loved to drive others crazy, refusing to show even a hint of courtesy toward those he was indifferent to, let alone someone he more or less considered his enemy. And yet, one could say that he had a soft spot for the pirate who looked at him with such distrust. Her mysterious personality amused him, even though he didn't believe the rumors circulating around town about her.
"You try to stay out of my sight, yet follow me like a shadow" said the Blue-Eyed Devil thoughtfully, pressing his index finger to his lips. "I'd say you've got your eye on me, but you can't admit it to yourself. Don't worry - you have time. I, however, sometimes think of you at night."
His chuckle filled the space between them, and Magnus shook his head as if he didn't believe his own words. He doubted that Hanna would take them well. Did he like teasing her? Oh, absolutely. Letβs see how careful she could be before she pounced on him to claw his eyes out.
"There's a difference between looking and seeing, don't you think, my dear? But you're right that I'm not known for my patience, and not everyone can escape my foul temper. Thank God I like you so much and wouldn't allow myself to give up your company."
He winked playfully at her, continuing with his act. And although he seemed careless and distracted, the captain did not take his eyes off the woman, as if he were expecting some dramatic change that would surprise them both.
Bartholomew was not sure what to say. Finding someone to help with the aftermath of Bartholomew's job would be delightful, but he hated the idea of giving his work to someone else. With a hand in his chin, Bartholomew considered it "I'll have to think about taking on a new recruit" He placed a small pot of herbs in its correct space "It might help me"
He was happy that Magnus allowed him such freedom aboard the Raider's Revenge. Though, he wondered how much longer Magnus planned to stay docked in Tortuga. Bartholomew was not fond of the town and would rather be anywhere else. "When are we planning to weigh anchor?"
He covered his face with his hand so that the surgeon couldn't see his broad smile that was about to turn into laughter. Part of him was amused by the thought that he knew his friend well enough to predict his reaction. And yet he appreciated his honesty in taking the time to think about it. Whether he would get a new assistant depended solely on his own decision.
"So be it," Magnus said after a minute, giving the other pirate the time he needed.
Bartholomewβs question was perfectly logical, and the captain himself had been honestly pondering this issue lately. The sea was calling him, as it was the others. It was not right for them to stay on the shore, especially with so many enemies around them who were ready to do anything to wipe them off the face of the earth. But was it right to leave Tortuga now, when the pieces on the imaginary chessboard were slowly shifting? And if they fled now, would it save their lives if the Crown decided to burn the place to the ground?
"I don't have a definite answer to your question," Magnus admitted with a heavy sigh. "I wish making such a decision were easier, but alas, it is not. The situation is too unstable for me to assess. I hope that things will become clearer in the coming days."
He wished he knew, but their lives had become complicated, and as their captain, he took responsibility for their safety and success as a crew.
Mary looked back at the Captain. He was being strangely nice for a Captain of one of the most feared vessels out there. She felt like Magnus and herself were being discreet enough to not attract the attention of the soldiers outside.
"That's true. Soldiers usually don't pass their chance at a brothel if they do enter" She was able to calm herself with the thought. There were enough Sirens working today to distract.
Those soldiers wouldn't hesitate to kill both Mary and Magnus if they had the chance. It would be best if they hurried.
He nodded at Mary's words, as if to confirm their shared opinion that the Crown's servants were not as obedient as they liked to appear beside the pirates. The line between good and evil had long been blurred, and it was impossible to say who the villain really was. Perhaps it would be up to God himself when everyone stood before him when their time came.
He knocked on one of the doors and pushed down the handle to open it and check if anyone was there. The room was empty, so Magnus stepped aside to let the woman enter. He followed her inside but left the door ajar not to unsettle her further, and so as not to startle the true occupant should she return.
"Will you tell me more about yourself? What happened in your life after the tragedy that befell you?"
He didn't want to sound like he was hoping to hear some gossip from her lips. They had time to kill, and he was curious to learn more about her fate and how she had come to this, cowering so fearfully at the mere sight of the Crown's men.
"I can tell you about myself if it will make you feel better. A fair trade," she said cheerfully and smiled, hoping that their conversation would do them both good, making them forget their problems for a few minutes.
the contact drew no falter from her, though his insistence in guiding her hand to his chest flickered something wry in her gaze β as if sheβd expected the move long before he thought to make it. her palm lay flat against him now, the steady rhythm beneath her fingers betraying far more truth than his tongue ever did. βdo i bring all men here?β she echoed, voice soft, curved like a smile she did not wear. the moonlight cut her face into shards of silver and shadow, and her eyes found his with a patience that was almost cruel. βno, captain. most men are content to drown in tavern light and call it depth. but youββ her hand shifted just slightly against him, a slow press, a claim disguised as curiosity, ββyou build walls so high even the sea would grow weary of climbing them. i do not waste tide on stones. only on cliffs worth breaking.β her other hand rose, brushing the air near his jaw but never quite touching, a gesture balanced on the knife-edge between intimacy and restraint. βas for what part is yoursββ she leaned closer, close enough that her words stirred warm against his mouth, ββthe part where you decide whether to play at devils and masks a while longer, or let me see the man who grows weary of wearing them.β the boathouse groaned again, timbers aching with the tide, as if echoing the weight of choice between them. cassiaβs lips curved faint, a ghost of triumph and tenderness twined, dangerous in its softness. βyou fear being one of many,β she murmured, voice as fine and cutting as sea-glass, βbut what you do not yet see is that i do not gather men like shells to scatter along the shore. i gather storms. and youββ her eyes held his, unflinching, ββyou are one worth weathering.β she let the silence stretch then, her hand steady at his chest, her breath brushing his, leaving the moment suspended β an invitation, a dare, the edge of choice sharpened and waiting in the salt-heavy dark.
Her words were as sweet as honey, and Magnus couldn't deny that Cassia flattered his pride as no woman ever had before. Her soft voice sent pleasant shivers down his spine, making him close his eyes briefly, before regaining his composure soon after. Part of him wanted to give in, but the other part, filled with so much pride, refused to fall into her trap. He wanted to leave as a victor, not as a man who needed a little tenderness and attention from a beautiful woman just to feel whole. Her words would never make him the strong man he was - and was meant to be. He would achieve that himself with the decisions he made. Was he wrong? Only time would tell, but the captain had no intention of straying from the well-trodden path. Life had presented him with countless of trials, and he expected many more, but not in the form of a beautiful temptress.
He lifted his hand in a gesture like hers, yet instead he brushed his fingers against her cheek in a caress. Then his hand moved upward, tracing softly to her eyes, which he touched with the same care. He made sure to prepare her for each of his touches, leaving her the option to push him away if she chose to. Then he leaned forward, closing the already non-existent distance between them.
"What if I want you all to myself?" he asked quietly, smiling crookedly. The thoughts swirling in his head were too chaotic, but he still managed to sound firm. "I'm a man who does not like to share. You long to be the wave that breaks through my high walls, but what are you willing to risk to claim what you desire? If I make a concession, will you make one too?"
His blue eyes rested on her face, which he could barely see at that moment. He wanted to know what was going through her mind. Did she want to deceive him, or was she willing to compromise in order to fulfill the desire that drew her so strongly to him?
"Can you be mine alone, Cassia, or will excitement draw you toward other towering walls that have caught your eye?"
The Blue-Eyed Devil knew himself too well to hide the truth, and even though the brunette believed she had unmasked him, she had no way of knowing what would happen if she chose to continue playing with him.
The Blue-Eyed Devil. Ned knows him at once, has devoured the tales of his exploits with the same voracity as he has those of all the great pirate captains that sail these waters. A man that came to his position soaked in the blood of traitors, whose eyes flash like lightning in the clouds above, and whose blade strikes with similar devastation. Even with all he's heard, he had not been prepared for just how young the storied captain seems in person. There can't be more than a year between HammarstrΓΆm and Ned himself.
"I dinnae do it to be noble, sir," he says in a quiet voice, shaking his head, "I'm doing it because it didnae seem like anyone else would." And he can't blame them. It's a fool's errand, Ned knows this, but he couldn't let it lie. "But I'll not refuse your help, if you're really offering. Thank ye."
With the captain there to hold the swinging corpse steady, Ned redirects his efforts, making quick work of the first noose and letting its unfortunate occupant slump down into their waiting arms. It's a heavy weight to bear. "Ye... ye havenae lost anyone in all this, I hope?"
Magnus' lips curved into a slight smile when he heard the man's words. He wasn't going to argue with him - instead, he acknowledged his modesty and praised his dignity. People like him didn't need the approval of others - they kept doing good without craving recognition.
The stranger's voice sounded familiar. It took him a few minutes to remember where he had heard it, and then to match it with the right face. The captain didn't know much about him and couldn't form an opinion due to the lack of communication in the past, but his current actions spoke volumes, and to be honest, Magnus was impressed.
"I haven't lost anyone, thank God," whispered the pirate as he began to help the other man more seriously.
Meanwhile, an idea had formed in his mind, causing him to consider the potential development of his relationship with this honourable and dignified man. Would he find a new member of his crew in him? He couldn't be sure, but there was no harm in trying.
"Have you ever thought about a pirate's life, or do you like staying on shore?" asked the Blue-Eyed Devil out of the blue, considering what exactly to say once he heard the other man's answer. Β
What was willing to be given away for free was almost always a double bluff - to hide the truth, reveal it. What he assumed of her, naturally was what he would do himself. Confessions could always be found in projections.
It made Josephine smile. The distrust in his eyes, the wariness in the lines on his face, the way his mind was ticking, pushing, moving, a pirate's ship in its own right, charting the waves with expert maneuvers and a fearlessness that would have gladly challenged the gods to a duel. He was a force, even with the earth beneath his feet. No wonder they called him a devil - when they expected him to be lethal on the seas, no doubt they saw something demonic in him when it turned out he was something to be reckoned with on land, with a sword, and in their minds.
But Jo - well, evil wasn't the word she'd choose.
"Capacity and execution do not always occur simultaneously," she chuckled, amused at the insinuation that every single impulse must be acted on - that the past must always influence the present in such a direct manner. "Just because someone can do something does not predicate that they will, especially in the exact same way. A pity, sir, I did think you were cleverer than to think in such simple terms." That didn't mean she didn't enjoy a good ribbing, though. "But perhaps you're right to be cautious. Behavior is not compartmentalized, after all. Believe me, I wouldn't waste energy or your time wounding your pride. It does me no good to see a man with his tail between his legs. Victories don't stand well against time if they're hollow."
He produced a small knife that seemed nimble and harmless the way he maneuvered it with grace, agility, not a single flick out of place or drop of blood to be shed. A wide, naked grin spread across her face like wildfire. Jo's eyes danced with delight, a shimmer of lives past, years gone, time buried. Somewhere inside, behind them, five years old, seeing fireworks for the first time.
Then his eyes, piercing, an arrow flung from an invisible archer, struck her gaze, and she latched on with a grip of equal measure. Earth and ice. "Ah, that's where you've gone wrong, Blue Eyes," a moniker chosen just as deliberately as the first; a downward tip of her chin, as if to tell a secret, "I haven't made up my mind about you at all." Josephine's eyes trailed, as one would on a single rut through the dirt road, until they reached his hand wrapped around the handle of his blade. "I think you are thoughtful, despite your reckless reputation. And behavior. I think you enjoy entertainment as much as seafaring. You would've made a remarkable actor, or a circus performer." She grinned, only lifting her eyes for a beat, as if to say, Laugh, it's all right, don't invest. "I think you think I'm cute. And I think your hair is in dire need of a comb."
Dangerous flames flickered in his eyes as he watched Voss, who quite skillfully twisted his words. He couldn't deny that he liked her sharp mind and the way she deflected his attempts to hurt or even anger her into revealing more about herself. For many men, such behavior would be discouraging, but Magnus was even more determined and had no intention of giving up. It seemed that the blonde wanted exactly that from him and would be disappointed if the gave in to her at some point. In that case, their game would continue, but who would emerge victorious?
"Are you sure you know what you're talking about?" the captain asked with a smile that never reached his eyes. There was no satisfaction or challenge in it - only regret that life had brought him to this point. "The first murder is the hardest, but after that it becomes very easy to stain your hands with blood. However, your behavior is not that of someone who has gone through the torment of committing this sin. It's as if you want to present yourself in that light, but at the same time you are trying to maintain moral purity. You are an interesting woman, Voss."
His fingers spun the knife a few more times, then he pointed the blade at the woman, as if taking aim at her. He remained like that for a minute, then dramatically tossed it back into his boot.
"You haven't formed an opinion of me, yet you think I'm thoughtful - and even an actor or a circus performer. These are not hasty conclusions. But the truth is, I find them offensive - I am neither an actor nor a circus performer. I was born to be a prince, but life decided I should be a pirate."
His laughter filled the space between them, and Magnus clapped his hands, playing his part with exceptional ease - he had told the truth, masking his reaction, as though a man like him could never have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
He leaned forward, smiling at her suggestion about his looks. Was this flirting, or was she truly cared? The Blue-Eyed Devil tried to keep his hair in order, imitating the old Viking styles, but he knew he could never manage it the way women could.
He opened his mouth to answer, but then he heard someone searching for Oliver nearby and turned sharply, following the voice with his eyes. His blue eyes stopped on an unfamiliar face looking in the other direction. His heart, which had been pounding wildly at that moment, began to calm, yet Magnus still muttered absently:
his lips against her skin drew no gasp, no startle β only the smallest shift of her chin, a tilt that allowed it, as though she had already calculated the path of his intent. a faint curl of a smile ghosted her mouth, not quite triumph, not quite surrender β something quieter, sharper, meant to slip beneath pride and linger. her fingers laced with his, letting him think he had taken her hand, when in truth it was she who guided the touch, drawing it with her as she stepped forward. βthen walk,β she murmured, soft as the tide, but laced with an undertow that pulled deeper. βthe dock is crowded with eyes too eager for rumor. if you want truth, it will not be found beneath their gaze.β she did not tug, only leaned, the way the current leaned against a ship until it had no choice but to follow. her path curved off the main boards, down a narrow pier where lanterns swayed with the hush of wind. beyond, the outline of a half-ruined boathouse hunched against the tide β forgotten, save for those who knew where to step without the planks giving way. slipping inside, she let the hush of the harbor settle around them. moonlight slid through the broken slats in silver shards, painting her face in fractured light. she released his hand, though the echo of warmth lingered between them, and turned to him with that same unwavering gaze. βhere,β cassia said, her voice low, edged like sea-glass smoothed by years of salt. βno masks, no audience. you asked what i would do if i found something worth it.β her head tipped, that same calm, dangerous poise. βthis is where i begin to find out.β she stepped closer once more, close enough that the air between them tasted of salt and warmth and the iron tang of risk. βyou wanted to see if my stories were to keep death at bay, captain? listen carefully now β for i do not waste words in shadows.β her hand hovered at his chest, not touching, not yet β a promise unclaimed, a fire banked. βyou gave me leave to take you where iβve decided,β she whispered, soft, certain. βand so iβve brought you here β to the edge of choice. the rest is yours.β the boathouse groaned with the tide below, lantern light flickering through broken wood, as if even the harbor itself leaned in to listen.
Magnus hated to admit it, but Cassia had been right not to fear him - he would not harm her. His presence beside her in the half-ruined boathouse, and the absence of any threat in him, proved that she had glimpsed behind his mask and understood he was not what he so often pretended to be. He didn't like that he had fallen into the trap of the beautiful woman, but on the other hand, he was glad that despite everything, she had some trust in him and, even with his attempts to scare her away, she hadn't left. There was something pleasant in the realization that he could be seen after all - truly seen. But this path was dangerous - it could force him to let his guard down and allow the siren to get close to him, revealing too much to her, which could lead to his demise at some point in the future.
He didn't know what to do, and he saw no point in continuing his attempts to deceive her - she was braver than he had expected. And yet he could not shake off the image of the Blue-Eyed Devil, who never dropped the act of a madman drowning everything in mockery.
He turned his head to look around them, needing a few more minutes to gather his thoughts. His features softened, the harshness fading from his gaze, no longer sharpened by the relentless storm of thoughts in his mind.
"You've chosen a nice place for us to coo to each other, Cassia," whispered the captain without any emotion in his voice, as if he were tired of his own pretense. Yet his tongue still spun the familiar words in their usual style. "Hardly anyone will find us here. I'm just curious about one thing - do you bring all men here, or only the distrustful ones like me?" His eyes rested on her face, which was dimly lit by the moon and the lights of the city in the distance.
He didn't mean to offend her, but part of him would not accept the admission that she had been here with others, making him just another one, when he considered himself exceptional. But in these relationships, no one was special, so he had no intention of deluding himself.
"The rest is yours," he repeated her words carefully, then leaned his head forward to shorten the already small distance between them. "Which part exactly?"
His fingers found hers, forcing her to place them on his chest and thus finish what she had begun. Would his apparent surrender finally make her reveal some of her cards?
as magnus stepped forward, hanna held her ground despite the way she felt something cold wrap around her spine. it was as though he urged shadows to move about him, coiling around her boots all the way up to her throat, a constant reminder of the threat that he could harm her, all it would take was his command for them to squeeze.
but she kept her chin high, letting herself settle into the feeling rather than push back or try and run from it. a little darkness was not enough to shake her, only enough to make her tread carefully for preservation's sake. she watched his hand as it moved closer to her, a gesture for her to return what was his. a feeling settled in her stomach, one that told her that her choice here would bear consequences no matter which path she took.
so, without making a show of it, she slowly handed the blade back over into his palm as she spoke. the coward's route, one might think, though hanna had no pride to swallow. "you say predictable men are boring, and yet you admit your desire to impress a woman. that is about as predictable as they come." a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of hanna's mouth, one that could easily be missed to those that didn't know her well. she was not always so serious, but in the face of an adversary, she knew better than to let her guard down to crack jokes as he was.
"i think you're dangerous." she muttered, finding no shame in it. "i think your crew is reckless and that you all threaten the fragility that already cracks on this island. i don't trust you. i keep a close eye on the things i don't trust." a wiser move would have been to ask someone more stealthy and subtle to watch from the shadows, but hanna couldn't explain the pull she felt to do this for herself. "and yet i know you won't kill me." there was a pause, a moment for her head to cock as she mulled over the truth. how could it be possible to distrust someone so greatly, but feel wholeheartedly that she wasn't in danger beside him? "i am trying to make sense of it." she admitted.
He was on the verge of calling Hanna a good girl for swallowing her pride and handing the dagger back to him. His lips curved into a charming smile that held nothing sinister - a gift for the woman who had chosen to keep their relations amicable. After all, had she refused, Magnus would have invaded her personal space without hesitation. Would she like him to be so close to her? Of course, not.
"Is it just me, or are you offended that I said I want to impress dangerous women like you, but not you in particular? If you want my attention, just say so, dear Hanna, and you shall have it," said the captain with a laugh. "Just don't let us turn into a Caribbean Romeo and Juliet with this little game of ours."
He annoyed her and was not at all ashamed of the nonsense he was saying to the woman who was showing such patience towards him at that moment. Yes, she followed him like a shadow, whether obeying orders, or rather her inner feelings, but the captain knew that he often preferred to get on people's nerves, which didn't always end well. The pirate didn't believe he would get into a real argument with Hanna, but he would definitely reinforce her opinion that he was completely insane.
"You sound extremely confused to me. You think I'm dangerous and my crew is reckless, as if everyone else, including you, are obedient lambs who bow their heads when someone in uniform comes near. You're not being honest, and I hope you understand that, even if you're not ready to say it out loud." Magnus tried to sound disinterested, even mocking, but her words had hurt him, and he wasn't going to let her insult his people any further. "Of course I'm not going to kill you. I don't wake each morning plotting to take lives just because someone displeases me. Surprising, isn't it?" A dangerous gleam played in his blue eyes, as if he wanted to challenge his own words.
Dangerous. A word that carried heavy weight under such a quickly-made assumption. His determination laid upon her chest like a handmade blanket, each stitch woven with careful consideration before becoming what it was. Only under true, honest light - the sun, where nothing could hide - would they know if the blanket went with her colors. If they matched. If what he knew to be was, indeed, the whole story.
"Mmm," she hummed, not in agreement, but as if he had taught her something she'd heard before, yet it rang anew, as if she'd forgotten. Her eyebrows lifted with the sound, taking in his claim (dangerous) with an openness that lent itself to explanation. "Dangerous implies a mastery of one's weapon of choice. And a decided intention to use it. You think I mean to bring you harm, captain, and in the form of an answer to your question?" A subtle, heartfelt lean on her voice sounded of a wounded animal, not on the verge of perishing, but simply looking at the aggressor and asking, Why?
Josephine chuckled again at his assessment, with good humor and a smile that desired no blood or gain. "Aye, it does pay to be cute," she bobbled her head as she brought the drink to her lips. She spoke over the rim, through the veil of lashes and liquor. "But you strike me as too clever to bend a knee to those kinds of petty games. You're not a man easily swayed by the obvious." A long pull off the glass, finishing it with a swallow that let one drop slide down the corner of her chin, wiped away by a single flick of her thumb. Jo leaned forward, settling in, not hunting down. A great cat whose prowl was long finished, and was enjoying the meal of her pride, even if the kill hadn't gone cold yet. "So what kind of man are you, captain? If I am a dangerous woman, and you do not fear danger, nor can be swayed by a woman's wiles. What kind of man is the Blue-Eyed Devil?"
Magnus was extremely distrustful, taking every word with a grain of salt, convinced that everyone was ready to betray anyone given the chance. This moment was no different, and it showed on his face, but most of all in his eyes, which he had narrowed slightly, as if studying every twitch and movement of Voss. Her beauty could not deceive him, and if she had misled him with her claim about her father's murder, she had only brought his distrust upon herself. Β
"Of course I'm sure you would attack me if the opportunity arose," the captain said with a forced laugh. "Wouldn't a woman capable of killing her own father harm her rival, her enemy? I'm sure Ginika would shower you with gold if you brought her the news that you had managed to hurt me or my pride, let alone if you managed to kill me. The confession you so recklessly reveal will not be erased by your pretty face, which radiates deceptive innocence."
His fingers closed around the small dagger hidden in one of his boots, and he drew it - not to threaten the blonde, but to prepare another theatrical act. It was his madness, his strongest weapon, that kept others at bay. He twirled the knife between his fingers, casting it glances as though it might vanish from his grasp. In truth, he only sought to impress her, to unsettle her with the chaos that always trailed in his wake.
"I don't know. You tell me what kind of man the Blue-Eyed Devil is," Magnus asked with irony, locking his gaze on Voss. "I've noticed that everyone has their own opinion on this matter, and I have no intention of shattering other people's illusions. You've already made up your mind about me, too. Why should I destroy your opinion?"
He winked at her, as if to encourage her to tell him what she thought of him. Would it differ from what was already accepted? He doubted it.
