in which malakh forgot all of our verse timelines so he’s winging one where Horst Turned silver during polorus-era and silver fled.
For a moment he is somewhere else in time, at a different table in a different house, with the same woman standing over him. Younger then, the way he was—is. Long John Silver hasn’t aged a day since she last knew him, though the beard and rough living make him look older than he would otherwise. Only Lucy has changed.
“What was that for?” He asks quietly. There probably isn’t an answer. She’s always been kinder to him than he deserved.
7) for sender to playfully bite receiver’s neck while hugging them from behind (for Silver from Horst shhhhh i stole the meme from your other blog)
Long John Silver laughs, and for once there's no falsehood in it. He trusts Horst enough not to worry too much when he's off-balance; trusts the strong arms around his waist, that they're there to hold and not to trap. And the teeth at his neck--he can't remember what it was like to be afraid of them, if he ever was.
(But he must have been, mustn't he? He must have been afraid before. He just doesn't remember--
No, there it is--he does remember. A long time ago he'd been very afraid indeed; even at his most comfortable with Horst and his nature, he'd always had one foot out of the door.
Best not to think about that, part of him murmurs.)
"My good man," he says fondly, swaying into Horst's arms and tilting his neck up to him, "I am trying to cook here. Is this your idea of helping?"
He’s entirely too confident for a man about to commit an act he’d have killed someone else for without hesitation. Alan thinks he’s found some uncertainty and insecurity in Silver...some weakness that he’s all too happy to exploit. The further he can get with Silver, the closer he can get to infiltrating the gang at large, and whatever wealth they’ve accumulated. The idea of seeing Dutch’s face once he’s realized he’s lost everything...oh, it’s far too good for Alan to pass up.
So, he sidled up to Silver, his smile dripping with charm as he all but backed him into the corner. Alan rested his hands on either side of Silver’s head, leaning in close.
“No need to be scared of me, now.” He practically purred. “I’ve just been here, wonderin’ when I could get you alone.” Alan’s lips brushed against Silver’s with the brief whisper of stubble.
Ah, Silver realises. That’s what he wants from me. He knows it before Alan comes towards him, has maybe known it since he came in here and realised he was being followed. Everyone else is either scattered around the other wooden buildings or out hunting. Silver can’t do much of anything. It’s hard enough to walk on normal terrain with the false leg, let alone drag himself through snow.
So he’d come in here to warm up, and to not think about masking himself for a while, and Danny McKie’s supposed brute of a brother had followed him in.
He doesn’t protest, is the thing. He lets Alan back him up against the wooden wall, caging him in with his arms, blocking the fireglow until all Silver can see is him and the shadows falling between them.
There is a knife in Silver’s belt that he uses to gut and skin animals, but he doesn’t reach for it. He isn’t afraid, but when Alan murmurs to him like a spooked horse, it’s easy to pretend: to go doe-eyed and uncertain, like the kind of man who’s never touched a man before but has always desperately wanted to, and who is startled but thrilled to be touched by one so charming.
Alan kisses him, just gently, and Silver doesn’t kiss him back but instead stares at him with the gentle surprise of someone who is not disgusted but intrigued, yet too surprised to do anything about it.
(Because of course the thing about Silver is that everything is an opportunity, that all information is useful, and that Alan has handed him a chest’s worth of both.
And the thing about men like Alan is that they are so, so easy to bait into wanting something from you they hadn’t meant to want at all.)
“I- don’t understand,” says Silver, in his curiously-accented English, blinking at Alan. He makes his eyes flicker to Alan’s mouth and back, just once. “I thought you... Well, if I’m honest--I thought you didn’t like me. Certainly not... this way.”
The Children of Virtue & Vice - Silver Chapter 2: Blowing Off Steam
Silver laid in her bed, still thinking about what her parents said to her just minutes ago. Something about how there needed to be a new king and queen, she didn’t pay much attention as to the why. Or maybe she did and she just didn’t care. But something clicked in her mind: she was the prince of this kingdom and if she had to be the new king, then there had to be a queen, which meant that she had earned some sort of freedom to explore the castle town. She didn’t have to find a significant other right now, but she was going to use this time effectively to finally feel a sense of freedom.
Tying her hair in a bun and dressing herself in simple, inconspicuous clothing like a simple cotton shirt, a denim skirt, and black flats, Silver grabbed a pair of sunglasses to finish her disguise.
Hidden in the dining room was a secret exit that led outside, close to the courtyard. Spotting the guards, she waited until they were unable to see her before continuing with climbing the walls that surrounded the castle. She was thankful that the brickwork was ancient and her finger strength was good enough to grip the uneven masonry. Running along the walkways and jumping from the castle’s turret, Silver landed on the ground with a roll, only hurting one ankle this time. Whenever she snuck out it would be both ankles.
Adjusting herself and cleaning whatever dirt and sweat was on her clothing and face, Silver took a deep breath and walked into the bustling castle town, watching all of the people pass her by. Every single one of them looking back at her. It was clear that this disguise wasn’t working. Her general body shape and skin tone revealed her true identity, yet no one really cared. They merely looked at her with the silent acknowledgement that it was Prince Silver and then going about their days as usual.
Silver always enjoyed sneaking out, hiding her identity in various ways to walk about the commoners. But if people could tell it was her and didn’t pay her any mind, then what was the point? With a sigh, she let down her long, black hair from the bun and took off her sunglasses, revealing the silver eyes she had before. All that exercise seems to have made her hungry, which gave her the perfect excuse to visit a restaurant in the town, Michael’s.
The owner, Mr. Michael himself, was a large, joyous man who hummed as he carved the meat for things such as sandwiches, roasts, and other dishes. He wore a butcher’s smock and was bald but had more hair on his face than most people saw on his head. “Prince Silver! What can I get for you? Anything you want, on the house!” Silver let out a single, dry chuckle. “I will just have a roast beef sandwich, dry with some water, thank you.”
Michael got to work, pulling out a slab of beef and using his Virtue ability to slowly and carefully cut slices with nothing but his finger, running through the meat like a blade. It was a sight to behold, at least before being rudely interrupted by a young lady entering the establishment.
She was dressed in a blue dress, dirty and without shoes, blonde hair that was messy. It was clear she was running from something or someone. Her words were frantic, quivering, and almost unintelligible from the panic attack she was clearly going through. Michael, knowing exactly what kind of situation this was, pointed to the restroom. “Hide in there. You let me take care of whoever is chasing you if they come in here.” The young woman didn’t even let Michael finish before running into the restroom, the door making a loud click sound to signify it was locked.
A few minutes passed with Michael finally finishing Silver’s order. Silver took a bite of the sandwich and instantly felt some relief. She may not have realized it, but she hadn’t eaten since the early morning, hours before training and now it was the late afternoon. She was more or less starving and finally getting something in her. This moment of peace and tranquility with a sandwich this good was interrupted by a young man walking in, hair cut in an odd was with a leather jacket, denim pants, and no shirt on underneath. “Hey, you see a girl in a blue dress walking around? She’s my sister, I’m tryin’ to bring her home.”
There was a feeling of danger surrounding this young man, something Michael instantly took notice of. “We haven’t seen anyone like that, now I would like to ask you to leave my business at once before I force you out--”
“Hold on......you’re Prince Silver, ain’t you?” The young punk leaned over, looking at the young woman closer. Silver paid him no mind, answering once before getting back to her meal. “What of it?” The hooligan smirked and stood back up. “Y’know, I expected the prince of this whole kingdom to be a lot bigger and tougher, not this chick who, I’ll be honest is smoking hot, but she doesn’t look like the kind of person to rule over us!”
Silver continued eating her lunch, trying to not pay this guy any mind. “So, what’s your Virtue then? Or maybe you’ve got a Vice! You wouldn’t want anyone to find out the prince has a Vice, would you? Or maybe worse, you ain’t got any powers!” As this delinquent continued to taunt Silver, he poked her cheek incessantly, causing Silver to stop eating and swallow her bite before turning to look at her ‘tormentor.’ Those silver eyes were unmistakable and the punk took a slight step back in surprise.
“So it really is you. I still don’t think you got what it takes. Why don’t you take a swing at me, eh? Maybe the King and Queen will adopt me and throw you into the streets once they hear that their poor daughter lost a fight to some randy. Eh? C’mon, just one punch, right here, I’ll let you make the first move, just hit me and I’ll hit back harder!”
This constant barrage of taunts and jeers were annoying at first, then they became irritating, now they were infuriating. Without any warning, Silver pulled her head back and slammed it right into the delinquent’s nose, knocking him down as he held onto it, letting out cries of pain. “I said a punch, you bitch!” Standing back up, he was about to throw a punch in retaliation but was stopped by Silver’s hand catching the fist, twisting his wrist to cause casual, unimaginable pain.
A swift kick to the stomach sent the harasser out the door of the restaurant, crawling away from this encounter with the prince much more worse for wear. Letting out a long sigh, Silver reached into her pocket and pulled out a large coin worth 100 Domi, giving it to Michael who only stood there, watching in awe. “For the meal and as an apology for causing a scene. Tell the girl the bad man is gone.” Drinking her water in a few, large gulps, Silver grabbed the sandwich and walked out of the restaurant, heading back to the castle and finishing her meal as she walked. As it turned out, it wasn’t much fun in town either. Perhaps it was time to leave the kingdom, see what the world had in store for her. And maybe find a suitable person to become Queen when she became King, If there was time.
❝ just because i am blind does not mean i cannot fight. ❞ Jacob @ Silver (ง'̀-'́)ง give me a cutlass bitch
@coming-xf-age
“No, but it means you’re a lot more likely to die doing so. You’d be better off with a set of pistols. If you can hear where they are, you know where to shoot. I don’t imagine you’d be able to do the same with a sword... but, well...”
He sighed, extending the handle of a cutlass to Jacob.
As always, there’s only so long you can rile a brooding necromancer up before he finally gives in and gives you exactly what you want - or close enough to it, anyway. Silver huffs when he tries to tug Cabal down by the cravat and finds it simply comes undone in his hands, but he hasn’t the time to complain about it before Cabal is pushing him into the wall, kissing him with a passion few would think him capable of.
Silver chuckles against his lips, happy to be pinned a little so long as it means Johannes is paying attention to him.
“There we go. Hello,” he says fondly, and kisses him again. “I was starting to miss you.”
When Silver returned home, he would find the kitchen in disarray-- goose shit on the floor. Lucy, however, had locked herself in a cupboard, and was crying.
“What the fuck...?”
Was there any other way to express oneself upon coming home to a kitchen covered in birdshit? It looked like a whirlwind had hit the place. Nothing was really broken that he could see, just... out of place, like someone had decided to drag everything around the room just for the fun of it.
At the very least, the bird shit ruled out a home intruder of the human variety.
Silver stopped when he heard muffled sniffling. Like someone crying from behind a closed door--he thought of cold attics and cramped spaces, the sound of guests below--
(No - it’s the cupboard. It has to be Lucy.)
He put a hand to the cupboard door and tried it. It didn’t open.
“Hey, hey--Lu, it’s John. What the hell happened, are you hurt?”
