Ely @swallowsandamazons - Tumblr Blog

"That's because you're smart," Ed grinned at them regardless. "Just wait."

He patted Ely on the shoulder and straightened up to stick his head out of the cabin. A few barked orders later, the ship was in motion, searching for something to fit the captain's orders.

Ed turned back to look at Ely, "Get out there and pull your weight, kid. You'll see what I'm thinking once we have ourselves a target."

Ely looked at Ed, trying to piece together what exactly this new plan was. After determining that they'd never be able to read between the lines enough to deduce that, they gave a conclusive nod of their head and hurried past him to get on with work. The whole time they felt on edge, turning over theories and ideas- potential risks. They liked to have a solid understanding of what was going on. They hated surprises and this felt distinctly like one. Still, they pushed all that aside when a ship was spotted on the horizon and Ely went barrelling to the Captains quarters to inform Ed.

"Well, getting cleaned up would be as good a place as any," Eddie said, picking at some more of the youth's hair. "Getting this all tamed. Then... there are powders and makeups. Clothes. Quite the variety of clothes, depending on the cut you like. I've always been partial to pants, myself, but there's something to be said for a nice skirt now and again."

She glanced up towards her meager collection of clothes, "I'm afraid I'm a bit practical. Maybe we can find ourselves a nice ship to raid and rummage through their wardrobes, mm?"

They've stopped their wriggling at Ed unpicking their matted hair now, far too wrapped up in her words for that to bother them. The thought of all of that sends a flutter of butterflies through Elys chest. They like their clothes. The trousers are practical, comfy, brown and one of the first things Ely had bought for themselves after joining the crew. The t-shirt had been a well cherished hand me down from Ed and was hidden under a rough yet well worn jumper that they'd bought along with the trousers. Their scuffed boots were the only thing they still had from the Hospital and, while that sometimes sent them on a spiral, they'd been moulded perfectly to the shape of Elys feet. It was comfortable and practical... but that didn't mean they didn't want to try something else. "You don't have to do that..." They say, giving a cautious look backwards and up at Ed.

There was one thing in the world that Edward did not tolerate well -- that was an exaggeration. There were plenty of things. But there was something that outstripped the rest.

Rejection. He felt the sting of it so keenly that he didn't really notice Ely's body language and clear discomfort. He snorted through his nose and let go of the youth.

"Yeah, fine. Go do your work or whatever if that's what you fucking want," he muttered and turned away from Ely. The kid would rather be anywhere else, didn't need him? Fuck it, fine. Made sense. No one actually wanted anything to do with him if it wasn't... on some kind of orders.

He turned away from Ely and looked for somehing to do with his hands.

He didn't yell or raise a hand to them and yet this reaction was somehow so much worse. It made Ely feel like they'd suddenly been thrust out from the ship in a dingy and left stranded in the ocean with a storm rolling in, struggling to stay afloat and work out a way back to shore. They weren't sure what it was they'd said or what exactly the feeling emanating from Ed was but it was... wrong. Cautiously and wide eyed, Ely watched Ed turn away from them. They dug their fingers into the mattress behind them and tried to come up with something- some plan for survival. Anything. "Y-you're upset..." They note, voice flat and audible despite the initial wobble. A younger Ely would have turned tail and ran away, following Eds instruction but, despite their words, Ely is comfortable with Ed. He is the closest thing to a parent they've got and that affords them some flexibility even if they won't admit it out loud. "I've upset you. I'm sorry..."

Alma had no idea that her sense of being watched was simply a sense that someone else was present -- the "being watched" aspect was born of the softly ingrained paranoia of a child that had been under the supervision of a governess of a certain personality.

The youth that peeked out of a cupboard had certainly not been watching her. They didn't look like they'd been watching much of anything aside from the inside of the cupboard.

"It's my dad's ship," she answered them somewhat bluntly. "I think I can go wherever I like."

She had complicated feelings about calling Stede her dad. Dad was even more familiar than 'father' -- but it felt particularly snooty to say something along the lines of 'my father's ship'. She didn't want to come off as too snooty and too good to the pirates.

It was surprising that there was another child, or at least youth, here. Alma felt some distant sting of replacement. So Stede could have the time for them but not for her...? She didn't know how true that was. For all that she knew, Stede didn't have the time of day for them and that was why they were sitting down here in a cupboard. But she couldn't help but imagine him doing something that had been so utterly mundane to her, but that she missed greatly: reading a bedtime story.

"Who are you?"

The words hit them like a knife to the chest, filling their lungs with blood and causing their breath to burn them from the inside out. Ely had suffered all number of pains in their life but somehow this was so much worse than anything some teacher at the Hospital could inflict on them. They take a half stumbled step backwards as the impact hits them. It was her dad's ship. It wasn't Ely's dad's ship. It was hers. By all accounts, this girl didn't even seem to know who they were. That just makes the blade turn in their chest, tearing at their flesh because they know without a doubt who she is. This was Alma- Stede Bonnets oldest child. They'd heard a lot about her and were relatively sure that the windowless cell they called a bedroom had originally been made for her. The decorative flowers mixed in with little ships around the skirting boards and door seemingly suggested so. "Oh... I-I'm just the uh... the cabin kid." They swallow back the pain, continuing to tug at their sleeves. "I didn't mean anything by it, miss. Just that there's some dangerous stuff down here. Figured you'd want to be with your-... your dad." The last bit sticks in their throat like the blood rising from their lungs is trapping it. They curse themselves for slipping into manners they hadn't properly used in years but the way she holds herself and talks with such confidence digs the knife straight into a buried memory.

Stede raised his eyebrows and took a moment of consideration before he answered, "No, no, no need to apologize. I hadn't thought about it like that. You know, there are different versions of the story. In some of them, it wasn't Apollo that killed him... it was a gust of wind. It was someone else's jealousy over their love. Even in the ones where Apollo killed him, it wasn't... intentional. Malicious. But I suppose that doesn't really matter in the end, does it?"

Ely quietly listened to Stede speaking. They were deeply intrigued and wanted to learn more but couldn't help feeling that they were over stepping a mark. Surely, they couldn't just stand around looking at books and nattering. They never normally talked this much. It had taken Ed months to wheedle any form of familiar expression from them. It was strange that this subject out of everything had unlocked that smothered box of speech. "I suppose..." Their voice is quiet now, fading off at the end. "Did you-... did you need anything from me while I'm here?"

Oh, fuck it.

"Ely..."

Stede slipped his arm around the crying youth and pulled them close to his side, using his other hand to guide their head to his shoulder. There was a good chance that they'd start to fight him like a wet cat in a bag as soon as he got an arm around them, and that was something that he was willing to risk.

Stede was not a good father. He never had been, really. He could play with his kids, sure, but he'd never been a pillar of dependability. He remembered feeling incredibly awkward and out of place when his daughter had skinned her knee while out on a walk with him. The crying made him freeze up and immediately second guess everything that he could possibly do. He supposed that it had worked out in the end, when he had finally stumbled upon treating her exactly as he wished he'd been treated by his family instead of how he actually was. He'd scooped her up. Put her head on his shoulder. Rubbed her back. He didn't need to say anything about it, really. Being told it would be alright made one feel like they were overreacting and the pain didn't matter. But just... being there. Holding. That was what Stede had always wanted and what he had tried to give her.

What he was trying to give Ely.

They visibly tense, shoulders hunching in response to Stede slipping an arm around them. For a moment even they're not sure how they're going to react. They could react with violence. Their sword still sits just a few steps away from them, begging them to use it. It's what they'd been taught to do in the last few months- a sure fire way of handling any unwanted emotions and making sure it didn't come back to haunt them... but Ely had already decided against that. They knew they couldn't hurt Stede. They didn't even really want to anymore. Instead, they melted into his embrace and turned their face towards his chest. Stede might not have been the best father in the world but he was what they had. He'd never raised a hand to them, he was doing his best to make amends and here he was putting up with their drunk display of emotion. That was all they really needed in the end and they were willing to try to move on from what he'd done in an attempt to keep that even if they couldn't forgive or forget. Eventually, the tears subsided but Ely still made no attempt to move. "Sorry..." They whispered quietly, sniffling.

pyratezlife

"It's difficult to notice when you're young, but as you get older and gain more trust and responsibility, that freedom becomes more apparent than ever." She'd crewed with Edward, once upon a time, though not for long. He was one of the more fair captains in the game. Each got their share of the loot, and outside of a few rules mostly meant to keep the peace, crew were basically allowed to do as they pleased so long as they got their work done.

Cheerful, she knocked her hip lightly against the younger's, chirping, teasing, "Try and look on the bright side sometimes. It makes life oodles more fun, ducky!" Ely was a fun one though, for all their nervous tendencies - they'd grow out of that, after all.

They thought they were quite optimistic. It certainly seemed like that when they were put up against the gloomy members of Blackbeards crew. Everything was still so new to Ely. The world seemed to be full of wonder that only they could see... but perhaps they weren't quite as bright and shiny as they thought. "I like that I got to choose who I work for. I guess that's freedom." They offer her a hesitant smile. Sure, they didn't really know whose ship it was they'd snuck on to to begin with but they could leave at any port they wanted. No doubt they'd have oodles of choice now that they'd had experience working for the legendary Blackbeard.

#pyratezlife

Iraia puffed through her nose. Sugar was a staple, a necessity, aboard the ship -- considering Edward's taste for it. More sugar wasn't going to piss the captain off. The only one who might be remotely pissed was Izzy, and even then... it would take off some pressure to provide.

She rocked with the raise of Ely's shoulder and shook her head. She wasn't particularly in the mood to go and ask either of the parents that she couldn't really stand to be around in that moment. She was interested in learning what exactly it was Ely was doing.

Iraia nudged them back and pointed at the ledger again.

There was a pricking sensation at the back of their neck that something was off. Ely wasn't usually good at reading between the lines but sometimes they felt like they had a sixth sense specifically for Iraia. They risk looking at her for a moment in response to her irritation and then follow her finger back down to the ledger. "Oh... uh, just working. Counting stock. I like to do it a few days before port so its ready to go and you can just sort of estimate the excess." They explain, voice tapering off as they consider what they're going to say next. "Is something up?" They'd been hidden away behind the barrels in this cupboard for most of the day, blissfully ignorant to the arguments unfolding between their parents.

"You've known me awhile, Ely. I don't bullshit. Not you. Not him. Not anyone," Izzy took his hand back and looked down at the bottle of rum in his hand. What happened to Ed had been an inevitability and it had been exactly what he'd wanted -- but how do you tell that to a kid clearly intent on shouldering all of the responsibility for it? He raised the bottle to his lips and took a deep drink. He'd already thought about not letting the kid hold onto it, but the logistics of that... weren't in the bottom of the bottle.

He offered it over to Ely, "You're not their Captain. Didn't matter what you'd suggested. The cannonball was convenient. If you hadn't suggested it, someone else would have. Jim would have grabbed it on their own."

The truth. That was going to be the way of it. He didn't bullshit anyone. He might keep things behind his teeth, but....

"He wanted this, you know that, don't you?"

#Just let my kid be a kid!!!#tatteredxsails

Ely follows the bottle as Izzy lifts it, refusing to look directly at the man beside them. They'd thought about drinking- a brief flitting thought in the hurricane of emotion surrounding them. They hadn't been able to pull themself together enough even to go hunting for a bottle. It was like they were drowning, too deep underwater to reach out a hand even for that. They're about to protest Izzys argument, say that they could have put themselves in the way. They could have done something. Then Izzy offers them the bottle they'd been so focussed on and they stop. A sickening memory claws it way to the surface and forces a burning breath into their chest. They'd only drank a few times before and it had always been with Ed. A little searing sip on their presumed birthday or a choked down glass at a tavern after a raid that had sent Ed reeling as they coughed. They can't help their chin warbling or their bottom lip protruding ominously. They'd never felt more like a kid. Ely grabbed the bottle with shaking hands and took a swig- enjoying the usually painful burn. "... but I didn't." It's quiet and petulant, like they believe they could some how stave off death with a temper tantrum. They know it's an absurd thing to say but they're treading a river of absurdity right now. "N-nobody ever asks me before leaving."

pyratezlife

Anne watched Ely with a keen eye, noting the flow of emotions they seemed to be experience with concern and interest alike. Even a blind fool could see that they were lying about being alright, but the question was, did she let it go or did she push?

She had always been nosy. So it's not a difficult decision at all.

"I'd like to know." she said gently. Besides, she needed to know the details to know just what was wrong, just what had happened. Once more, she cursed herself for being out of the game and running an antique store when evidently something big had happened.

Anne wouldn't try to push too far, but even how much Ely would be able to share could tell a lot about how badly hurt the other was. Gosh, she might just have to kill Ed Teach, wouldn't she? Gently, "Whatever you can share."

#pyratezlife #TW child abuse

Ely was still dressed in the typical outfit of Blackbeards crew that they'd forced themselves into since shit had hit the fan. It was uncomfortable with far too many seams and clung to them like a smothering second skin even if the grey t-shirt was too big as a hand-me-down from Ed. They hated it altogether but most of all they missed their jumper. They missed the familiarity of being able to push their thumbs through the knots of wool and run the rough fabric groundingly against their palms. Instead, they clenched their fists, tugged at their leather sleeves and did their best to pull themselves together. "Stede left." The began on a heavy breath. "And Blackbeard... I think he loved him." Their voice is anxious and hesitant. They wouldn't have been able to say something like that a week ago without risking physical harm. The use of 'Blackbeard' instead of the familial 'Ed' is enough to indicate what sort of monster they'd face for speaking about this. "So he... went off the deep end, I-I guess. He got angry. Really angry at everyone. I-I thought I'd seen him angry before... at me... but..." They stare into the middle distance as they speak, shaking their head to indicate that what they thought they'd seen before was nothing in comparison to what they experienced post-Stede.

"Shit, kid, I just thought of this. Give me a moment to think of an actual plan beyond 'get there'," Ed laughs and squeezed their neck beneath his hand. "Disguises are a damn good idea, though. I'll give you that."

He pursed his lips slightly, "I think I know just the thing. You trust me, yeah?"

They looked up at Ed with great hesitation plastered across their face. "Every time you say something like that, it makes me afraid that I trust you." They admit, wincing at the possibilities of fuckery about to come their way. "B-but, sure. Wha's the thing?

"Because Hyacinthus died?" Stede asked, looking up from the book. "There's no need to be sad about that. These are the Greeks, mind. Apollo couldn't become human to die alongside him, but he could raise his memory up with the flower. Songs. Oh, and... literal resurrection."

Stede closed the book and shelved it, "Apollo brought him back from the dead and made him one of the gods, too. Apotheosis. There are all kinds of ancient shrines to him. Artwork. Old celebrations and rituals."

The blond looked at Ely and smiled, "Imagine loving someone so much you could bring them back from the dead."

#Foreshadowing Ed dying Stede coming back and Elys reaction much XD #tatteredxsails

"I don't think he deserved that." Ely said, the words coming out before they can even register that it might be a little too dark for a casual conversation. "A-Apollo, I mean... It was his fault Hyacinthus died. He shouldn't just get to skip out on that because of the power of love or some rubbish. It's not fair for Hyacinthus to just get brought back and be- and be expected t-to be a pretty object o-or forgive Apollo and spend eternity with him." They clear their throat and take a step back. Yeah, that probably was a bit much. "Never mind. Sorry."

starter for swallowsandamazons

@swallowsandamazons liked for a starter

Alma was quick to slip away from her mother, brother, and Doug. They were visiting her father, aboard his ship. Taking a look at the life he had built without them.

She wanted to hate him. She did. She envied Louis for the fact that he seemed so capable of forgetting Stede entirely, even though he really hadn't been that young when their father had left. She suspected he'd put that whole act on but... good for him. He got to pretend sweet, loving, Doug was his father.

While she was stuck with Stede Bonnet. It didn't help that she looked more like Stede than like Mary. She had his complexion and hair.

She had his fascination with piracy and the sea. The fact that this little excursion took place on a real pirate ship with real pirates -- including Blackbeard himself -- redeemed the whole thing for her. She had thought that he was lying about having even met Blackbeard, but apparently they were... married? Dating? Her mother wasn't sure so she wasn't sure.

Alma probably should have held onto some of her resentment. This was the life Stede built without them, after all. But she found herself dreaming of running away to be a pirate, too. It wasn't a dream of joining him so much as the crew. The ship.

She headed below decks while no one was watching her, her skirts held in one hand and her other outstretched to keep her balance. It was dim and smelled like waterlogged wood and something she couldn't identify. She released the hem of her skirts when she reached the bottom of the ladder slat stairs and looked around. Even though it seemed like she was alone, she felt like someone was watching her.

"Hello?"

#tatteredxsails #closed rp; empty halls to echo #alma & ely

Ely was hiding. They wouldn't say that that was what they were doing, trying to make themselves look busy although their really wasn't anything to do, but they were. The thought of Stedes family coming to visit set of a sickening stirring in their stomach that they couldn't face up to. That was right. Those people up on deck were his family. It just reminded Ely that whatever it was that they had was a fleeting illusion. No matter how much they tried to mirror Stede or Ed or merge the two personas when they were together, Ely would never be their family. Not in the way that counted. They'd clawed their way out of a filthy gutter and somehow managed to stumble into this situation. That was not how families were made. Everyone was distracted with the new arrivals so they weren't expecting to be disturbed as they passed the time coiling and uncoiling rope. Subsequently, they jolted quite violently when they heard a voice. They stood up slowly and very hesitantly peaked around the corner of the door to the cupboard that they were hiding in. "Uh... hi?" The greeting came out as a question even to their ears. "I-I don't think... uh... I don't think you should be down here. E-everyones up top."

She shook her head and settled against their side. She didn't need anything, no. Nothing beyond company and the solid reassurance of someone else's warmth.

Maybe that was some of what had gotten into her. Her parents had been busy, occupied with fighting with each other between raids. Sitting with either of them was like voluntarily sitting in pine tar. She didn't have any kind of tolerance for the tension. Not being able to stand being around them left her feeling rejected, even if she was the one electing to remove herself.

She puffed, so like Ed, and pointed at the word 'sugar' on the ledger.

Ely leaned back against her. She was the only person they genuinely felt safe being this close to. Even with their surrogate parents their was always the underlying sense of suspense beneath displays of affection. They didn't like being close to people- constantly waiting for it to be a trap that they were too deep in to escape from. But they trusted Iraia whole heatedly, even if she could get annoying and dump them in a freshly stirred shit pile and every now and then. "Yeah, sugar." They giggled a little. " I can't get you any or I'll get in trouble and you'll mess up my stock list." Ely raised their shoulder a little to playfully jolt her. "You'd 'ave to go ask for some."

"Oh, no, Ely..." Stede flustered a little at the sudden display of tears. He wanted to comfort the youth. Of course he did! And he extolled the virtues of talking things out at every turn. That didn't mean he was actually any good at listening to people who tried. He'd all but run from Lucius when the man had started to open up to him about what had happened aboard other ships.

Ely likely didn't want him to hover, but he did. He sat as close to them as he could without actually touching them. He wanted to. Touch helped, sometimes. When he was crying, he craved being touched. It was something he'd never had. Not really.

"Can I do anything? Do you want to talk about it?"

It made their heart ache, the concern in Stede's voice. The roughly carved facade Ely wore had always been loosely fitted and they knew that. It had been constructed in a hurry while half the crew were being abandoned, thrown over board or tortured and they needed to find a way to survive. They were good at that- surviving. But the mask had rubbed harshly against them, splintering and threatening to slip at any moment. They had held it in place as long as they could... but now Stede was here and it was like the mask had developed a mind of its own. It struggle actively against them, refusing to stay in place. "I just- I-... I missed you." It's whispered between hiccuping sobs. A pathetic display of emotion that probably would have ended in some form of violence if it had been done in front of Blackbeard. "God, I-I hate you so much but I-... I missed you. Missed having a-a... I don't know... family."

"Mhm, pretty," Ed repeated, moving on to picking another tangle. "I might have to cut some of this out, it's so matted."

She dropped both of her hands down to Ely's shoulders and looked at the top of their head, "Do you want it to be pretty?"

Ed clearly wasn't bothered by them taking up her time. She seemed content to sit there and pick at their mess of red hair. If she wasn't occupied with that, she would have been smoking and staring out the window at the sea. This at least kept her hands busy.

That all too familiar feeling nagged at them. The conflict of both wanting to be her kid but knowing that they worked for her as well. It was something they desperately tried to keep balanced- a tug of ware between two opposing factions. "I guess..." That felt like a good start to a none committal answer as they hesitated and ruminated on the next bit, "But I wouldn't know where to start." That felt like a solid implication that Ely needed Eds help but only if she was willing to give it. They weren't good at implications and subtlety but sometimes that felt better than asking directly. Ely never got to be pretty but that didn't mean that they didn't want to be.