𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒.

❝  my  music  is  the  northwind's  roar; the  bellowings  of  the  black  sea's  shore, and  rolling  of  my  guns. and  as  the  thunders  loudly  sound, and  furious  the  tempests  rave, i  calmly  rest  in  sleep  profound, so  rocked  upon  the  wave.  ❞

[piratedgrit]

𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖗𝖎𝖙  ⸻  original  characters  tended  to  by  kiwi  (  she/her,  gmt+12  ).

𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔨  𝔱𝔥𝔢  𝔠𝔲𝔱𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔰  ☠︎︎  the  stormborn,  32,  the  storm's  eye

intro  ;  isms  ;  image  ;  connections

[winedcrk]

where: town square when: evening with: open (0/4)

Seated at a table on the periphery of the celebrations, Etienne observes Tortuga's revellers with the detached interest of an anthropologist, his dark eyes steadily tracking the movement of a pair of dancers as they whirl their way across the cobbles. He isn't given to such exuberant displays of levity himself, but he is enjoying the evening, in his own way.

Dimly aware of a presence arriving at his shoulder, he speaks without looking in their direction, his voice unerringly even and his expression unchanging. "Perhaps you would like to relieve me of one of these?" He offers without preamble, indicating the four untouched tankards of mead sitting in front of him with a gesture of his hand, "I have tried to explain that they are wasted on me, but people keep bringing them all the same."

[piratedgrit]

"That is a waste." Which, time isn't something Erik allowed to lapse as his hand took away a tankard of mead. "I wonder what's given the perception that you're open to any fun."

Without invitation the northman took residence in the space beside Etienne. The current agenda for the stormborn and a bloodline that called to raiding differed greatly from something else his heritage was known for — feast and drink; celebration.

"You do not appear to have seen any of that in years." Despite a few swallows of the drink, Erik's gaze remains on the celebrants about the festivities. "Have you even tasted mead before?"

[lavendarseagreen]

Where: Deserter's Dock Who: open to everyone

Zohra calmly walked along the docks, watching the cargo unload. Her ship had found a key, but no lock to go with it.

The Chain was not pleased at the idea of talking to other pirates. In fact, she was tempted to swim out to the wreckage herself in the dangerous currents just to see if the key fit anywhere there!

She lingered on the edge of the dock, watching patiently. If she came later, how difficult would it be to swipe one of those crates?

A shadow approached on the edge of her vision. "Everyone seems to be going mad over the salvage that washed up" Zohra said, glancing sideways at her guest. "There are much better activities to do with that rather than watch me"

[piratedgrit]

"That's pirates for you." Amusement gleamed in her direction, there and ready for her to see when she cast a glance his way. "Sunken ships usually mean treasure." At least that was a rather general consensus.

While Erik did his part for his ship he wasn't apart of the madness for a reason. A feeding frenzy was never his style. Which meant he'd go about things a different way. Raiding may have been in his bloodline, there were just smarter, more strategic means to go about it.

"Really?" Brow raised, playful challenge colored his tone. "Your toes are practically curled over the dock's edge and there's a hunger in your gaze yet you're playing at being better than all of them." His arm did a sweep of the scene ahead and all around.

"I'm only curious what's stopping you." The guess was that there was caution to not play her hand. Especially given that eyes were always watching. Hence his presence now.

[starlxvrs]

"A pretty knife?" She questioned. Maybe it was compared to the one pirates wielded so easily, ones who were actually were used for what they were intended for. "A Siren has her secrets where she hides things, sir." Leyla answered in a tone after he flashed her a smile. "Well I am sure i can figure out something to use it for. Maybe you is to damage another as you said previously. Maybe I'll use it as a decorative item in my room. Though I imagine you might be someone who certainly has ideas."

[piratedgrit]

"Is  it  not?"  Head  tipped  at  the  knife  in  question,  the  one  the  lady  had  been  admiring.  All  those  jewels  on  it  seemed  a  waste  to  him.  Of  course  any  knife  he  possessed  was  for  usefulness,  not  a  show  of  wealth.

At  her  kickback  Erik's  smile  morphed  into  something  more  like  a  smirk  as  his  hazel  eyes  dipped  down  her  figure  and  back  up  to  meet  her  gaze.  "I'm  aware.  Just  wondering  where  your  secrets  are..."

Given  his  nomadic  lifestyle,  on  a  ship  moving  from  port  to  port  and  pirating  the  seas,  Erik  didn't  keep  more  than  he  could  carry  usually.  So,  his  head  shook  at  her  assumption.  "It'd  be  a  waste.  A  knife  like  that."  His  hand  moved  over  hers,  taking  the  fancy  weapon  from  her  and  examining  it.  "The  balance  is  off,  the  handle  would  likely  lose  it's  gems  and  be  stained  with..."  In  close  proximity  his  eyes  turned  to  her  again,  offering  the  knife  back.  "Where  in  your  room  would  you  keep  it?"

[krak3ns]

⋆ ⋆      𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗸  , @piratedgrit the pit      . 

If only the meadows were close enough to touch. It’s not the death she fears, it’s the evolution. She is an animal that yearns for her freedom   ⸻    to be buried somewhere in the dry dirt and wait for the winter to pass. She was never on fire, but there’s been something burning in her since she was born.  A daughter that smelled like ash and volcano, evergreens and birch. Anya wonders, briefly, how long it’ll be until she’s as dead as the rest of them. Or if she already is. If the Cutlass, in all his hunger, has noticed that she is a barren wasteland. A slaughterhouse cannot be a cathedral.  No matter how far the waist bends to pray, no matter how stale the bread  ⸻  no matter how flat the wine.  One will drink,     one will eat, and one will devour.  Anything to feel the divine. But she had always been too far gone. Too off - course. Not quite a target, but still an important well of knowledge. At least for the Storm’s Eye. She moves, therefore, in order to catch his attention  ⸻  silk dress rippling as though they were underwater.   “  Do you fight?  “   She voices this question as if she’s mildly amused, lips pursed and gaze harsh underneath the dim lighting in the pit’s audience area.  Like a mosquito among swamplands, she thrives here. Her body half in the shadows and half in the lantern light.   “  Or is it only an intimate action for you rather than a performative one?  “   A humming laugh that blooms from her chest, a rattle of excitement.  “  They like the thrill here.   They celebrate it.   Is that why you’re here?  “ 

[piratedgrit]

If  he'd  been  a  man  desperate  for  glory,  to  be  remembered  through  time  after  his  bones  had  long  become  dust,  then  his  bounty  would  be  higher.  There'd  be  no  mystery  shrouding  him,  no  whispers  or  guessing  at  his  alleged  crimes.  Erik  the  Cutlass  would  be  known  as  more  than  a  cog  in  the  machine,  he'd  be  legend.  Perhaps  have  his  own  saga.

For  now,  he's  more  than  content  to  move  in  shadow,  and  that's  perhaps  why  no  one  has  connected  every  little  thing  he's  guilty  of.  He's  of  the  north,  far  far  away,  and  never  lingered  too  long  anywhere.  There'd  never  been  a  desire  to  be  truly  known.

Always  aware  of  his  surroundings,  Erik  caught  her  movements,  though  they  were  purposeful  as  she  wanted  his  attention  in  that  moment,  and  his  gaze  tracked  and  noted  every  little  detail  he  could  ingest  in  a  matter  of  seconds.  "Who  doesn't?"  The  answer  came  just  as  easily  as  he  question  had.  Rather  than  urge  her  a  little  closer,  he  shifted  in  Anya's  direction.

"Some  victories  need  to  be  seen."  The  hidden  message  was  both.  Fighting  was  survival,  yet  some  losses  had  to  be  witnessed.  There  was  a  powerful  communication  in  someone  being  seen  falling  at  your  feet  by  your  hand.

With  his  attention  returned  to  the  action,  the  stench  of  blood  and  sweat  commingling  with  the  sounds  of  hollering  and  impact,  a  single  shoulder  rose  and  fell.  "That's  because  this  place  is  a  den  of  debauchery."  For  the  most  part,  fighting  here  would  be  a  waste  of  his  time  and  energy.  Though,  Erik  couldn't  deny  a  bit  of  bloodlust.

"You  want  to  see  me  fight,  is  that  it?"

[zanephillips]

LEO SUTER Vikings: Valhalla #3.03 "Lost"

[sirenstitches]

o p e n ; 0 / 4 location ; the shambles

she hums to herself as she peruses the stalls, not really looking for anything in particular. she has something else in mind. or well... she was looking for someone else. who? she hasn't decided yet. she likes to do this on occasion, just looking for someone to... bother is how others like to put it. she likes to think of it as a little advertising! eyes finally stop on a back, and smile spreads across her lips. she found who she would approach for today. she heads towards the person, and reaches out to tap their shoulder. "would you perhaps like a partner to look through the stalls with?" tala asks, looking up at the person.

[piratedgrit]

Feeling  the  approach  Erik  turned  just  before  the  touch  landed  on  his  shoulder  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a  beautiful  woman.  One  offering  company  and  assistance  when  he'd  clearly  been  fine  on  his  own.  A  smile  was  given  in  return  and  perhaps  she'd  note  the  gleam  in  his  eyes  and  decide  on  someone  else  instead.

"You  think  I  need  a  chaperone?  Afraid  someone  might  take  advantage  of  an  innocent  like  me?"  Oh,  he  was  far  from  it,  there  was  no  way  he  could  appear  as  so,  yet  that  was  all  apart  of  his  deceptive  charisma.  To  jest  and  perhaps  ensnare  with  tricks  of  his  own.

[starlxvrs]

starter : open || location : at the shambles

leyla eyes the shiny trinkets as she picked them as if inspecting them for any inconsistencies one by one. she enjoyed the little charms and other small glassware along with the pressed flowers. she did not know which she had wanted when deciding between them when her eyes glanced to a couple of daggers. some simple and others that were decorated with jewels on the hilt. she picked up a small gold one with red gems and brown leather for the grip. "what do you think?" she said turning to the person next to her and flashing a smile. "you think this could actually cause some damage or is it more decorative?" they asked with a tone of innocent in her voice.

[piratedgrit]

While  not  on  the  hunt  for  a  new  cutlass  it  never  stopped  Erik  from  perusing  a  selection  of  daggers.  They  could  be  tucked  away  and  useful  in  some  scenarios.  More  than  the  offering  for  sale,  he  was  more  drawn  to  the  woman  he  found  himself  beside  in  the  stall.  Curious  as  she  looked  over  the  blades  and  even  picked  one  up  that'd  caught  her  eye.

"Never  understood  the  purpose  of  a  pretty  knife."  Unless  someone  was  a  collector  and  planned  to  use  it  for  show,  he  often  thought  the  extravagance  was  a  waste  of  effort.  "All  knives  can  do  some  damage  if  wielded  properly."  A  bit  of  a  wicked  smile  was  flashed  her  way.  "Where  would  you  keep  it,  what  would  you  do  with  it?"

[winedcrk]

where: a hidden suntrap just outside town when: mid-afternoon with: open (0/4)

When Dutch tires of the constant noise and the bustle of the Siren’s Nest, this is where he comes: a tiny cove, shielded from prying eyes by a rocky outcropping, where the palm trees whisper amongst themselves and the unspoiled white beach seems to invite the gentle touch of the sun. He basks in its warmth now, bare-skinned and contented, an open book abandoned carelessly in the sand beside him.

But his moment of peace is not to last, and his untroubled expression quickly turns sour when he senses a presence nearby, irritated to realise that somebody else has discovered his little sanctuary. And he’d guarded its secret so carefully, too. “Stand there any longer, and I’ll have to start charging,” he says without opening his eyes or making any move to cover himself up, “Did you want something, or are you just here to block my light?”

[piratedgrit]

Nothing  could  remain  hidden  or  secret  for  long.  Not  when  everyone  was  hellbent  on  exploration  and  being  the  first  to  discovery.  It  was  in  his  blood,  an  intrinsic  piece  of  Erik  when  his  sense  of  direction  and  ability  to  sniff  out  places  unspoiled  brought  him  to  etch  new  footprints  into  the  stands.  Though,  also  as  his  lineage  would  suggest,  he  had  no  qualms  when  it  came  to  conquering  a  place  already  settled.

This  time,  however,  Erik  had  been  coming  out  of  the  water  to  find  someone  on  a  beach  he'd  thought  he'd  have  to  himself.  He  usually  did.  "For  that?"  There  was  humor  behind  the  barely  perceptible  scoff.  "I  should  be  the  one  charging  you...  for  damages."  The  shirt  and  shoes  he'd  removed  were  tucked  between  some  rocks  further  back,  he  was  in  no  rush  to  remove  the  warmth  of  the  sun  upon  his  skin.  Erik  also  found  this  moment  a  little  too  amusing.  "I'm  here  to  block  the  light."

[piratedgrit]

⸻  ☠︎︎  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆  ⟨  the  details  ⟩

[ leo  suter,  cis  man,  thirty  two,  he/him ]  for  the  crimes  of  piracy  ERIK  /  THE  CUTLASS  is  hereby  wanted.  those  who  surrender  them  dead  or  alive  to  the  crown  will  receive  ONE  HUNDRED  FIFTY  pounds.  they’re  famously  known  to  be  part  of  the  THE  STORM'S  EYE  as  their  THE  STORMBORN.  before  engaging  be  warned  as  they  can  be  RUTHLESS  +  DECEPTIVE,  but  if  you’re  lucky  they’ll  be  RESILIENT  +  CHARISMATIC.  legends  say  that  when  you  speak  their  name  you’re  reminded  of  SMOKE;  INVISIBLE,  DANGEROUS,  AND  DEADLY  +  AN  UNCANNY  SENSE  OF  WANDERING  +  BEING  PINNED  WITH  DARK  EYES  WHILE  CHARMED  WITH  A  HANDSOME  GRIN.

⸻  ☠︎︎  𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘  ⟨  quick  read  ⟩

Origins  a  bit  unknown,  there's  a  faint  accent  that  gives  way  to  the  North,  a  descendent  of  the  legendary  seafarers  that  come  from  the  land  of  giants  that  wield  axes.  Erik  left  home  young,  eager  to  explore  and  on  a  mission  to  find  his  father  who'd  gone  missing  on  a  trade  expedition,  and  spent  much  of  his  youth  jumping  from  boat  to  boat,  ship  to  ship,  as  a  rogue.  Often  running  his  own  boat,  but  useful  when  brought  on  board,  his  way  over  the  seas  and  navigating  the  sometimes  torrented  waters  seemingly  innate,  he  was  also  known  to  be  an  incredible  fighter.  Earned  himself  the  nickanme  The  Cutlass  for  being  quick,  sharp,  and  always  ready  for  a  fight.  There's  something  fearless  and  head  first  about  him,  Erik  started  to  become  a  whisper,  perhaps  even  a  myth,  and  it's  because  of  that  all  of  his  crimes  remain  unknown.  The  bounty  for  his  capture  or  his  head  remains  relatively  low  because  Erik  knows  how  to  move  like  smoke.  He  aligned  himself  with  The  Storm's  Eye  and  became  a  crew  of  the  ship  because  they'd  aided  him  when  he'd  gotten  himself  into  a  troubled  position  he'd  struggled  some  to  get  himself  out  of.  Since  then  he's  been  loyal  and  true,  done  his  duty  aboard  and  beyond  with  the  liveliness  and  charisma  of  a  leader  yet  always  knowing  expertly  when  to  fall  in  line. 

⸻  ☠︎︎  𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘  ⟨  the  past  ⟩

Under  construction:  a  work  in  progress!  Will  update  soon!

[calisverse]

𝐋𝐄𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 as 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

Vikings Valhalla. Season 1, Episode 1.