#manamusesac

[killmebutneverinsultme]

@manamusesac​  sent in a manhandling symbol:  ⌧ - grip my muse by the back of the neck (Beckett)

Smooth fingers pinched tight where they had slipped between his braids. Jack tensed, wondering how it was his old employer even dared to touch him considering how immaculate Beckett liked to be and how much grimier the pirate had become. He loathed that he could not just squirm away or punch the man in the face, not when temporary good behaviour might keep him from a noose or a gibbet. Was that even the fate Beckett had in store for him anymore? The man was so dead set on his not personal, just business ethic, but Jack knew better.

He was the one subject where it truly was personal. Which meant there was nothing he could rule out, no cruelty too beneath a man with power to inflict upon him.

Time to see how far a bluff could get him.

“I can give you a very good reason not to exact any of the fates you’ve been concocting for me: fact of the matter is, you need me.”

[rooksxandxpints]

@manamusesac​

“Miss Attaway. I-uh...Here. I saw this flower and it’s purple...and your dress is purple so-” The assassin just kinda present a single plucked purple azalea.

[annastrxng]

@manamusesac​ (continued from X)

The rooms light shadows are welcome companions. She, for just the faintest of moments, begrudges their ability to bend, warp, and blur in and out of existence in the presence of the enemy.

Calloused fingers house themselves in the fabric of her skirts and an astonished glance is leveled upon the esteemed head of British Intelligence. “If that were true, mine would be deeply buried, Major.” Especially, if she were to believe Judge Woodhull’s assessment of her ill character. 

“You, on the other hand,” Anna starts, knowing it was both unwise and unsafe to keep the conversation on herself too long, “are said to be agreeable, patient, calculating, and wise.” A pause. “Unless, I have been lead astray.” Of course, she was indirectly using her dear friend Abigail as a source for this information. It is better he doesn’t know and assumes that she has access only to Rivington’s paper and rumors on the streets.   

“Tell me,” she counters, footsteps bravely venturing forward by inches, “what be more admirable than those traits? Especially, if they result in successful accomplishments.” The remark is vague but pointed. He had probably been at hand for several of the Loyalist victories though she is not sure what she could directly attribute them too. 

[ofmythsandfables-a]

@manamusesac​ | asked for a starter for Redd

❈ --- “Norrington, it’s been a while.” A sly smirk spread on Redd’s features. She tipped her hat and gave a little nod his way. “I see the Royal Navy’s been treatin’ ya well. Commodore Norrington; certainly has a ring to it, don’t ya think?” 

[musenssang]

@manamusesac​ Plotted Starter

           It’s late, and the god forsaken heat has let up, if only a little, and tomorrow, The continental army will find that in this very moment, the British are slipping away in the dead of night. this is a crucial moment for the American moral. Historians will say, this is the moment Washington gained undivided support. - Brian knows this from his history major taken some 190 years form now. It’s such a strange thought. knowing he’ll be alive that far in the future, and yet finding himself wondering if he’ll make it though the week. 

         The rifleman while changing position in hopes of getting a clearer shot, had made a target himself, and a musket ball had found its way into his thigh. Missing the artery but lodged in the flesh there, he is perfectly aware that its likely to get infected. Now he’s tied a belt around his leg, to stop the bleeding, but; There’s a sheet of sweat coating his face when he sits down next to Benjamin. 

        “I need to get to Philadelphia.”   the redhead says. its a long shot, Two days march for a fit man. and with this injury he’s in no condition to make such a journey. “ - And i can’t do that alone.” 

[lcrdjohn]

@manamusesac​ said: send  asleep  for my muse’s thoughts watching yours sleep (andré)

it wasn’t often andré relaxed , but when he did he looked his actual age . no worries were written on his face . perhaps that was why lord john found peace as well in watching him , so tempted to reach , but he dared not disturb his sleeping lover . if only he could find words to put that ease on his face as well . lord john grey WONDERED IF HE DREAMT something nice , and if he perhaps had a role in those dreams . oh , he wished he dared to caress , to touch . he wished he could draw , and make this moment a permanent one , on paper . he was no artist however , no poet who could put this into writing . if he was he’d describe those lips , slightly parted , perfectly pink . the curve of them , how they felt against his own . his heart had been lost to this man long ago . an englishman , a loyalist , an intelligent man with a soft heart under the wit and charm . an ARTIST , and apparently he had a weakness for someone who could create things out of nothing . 

[lombredufait]

Pardon. Joyeuse Saint-Valentin to all except Shay Patrick Cormac, let me make that distinction clear.

[moltementi]

@manamusesac​ | like the thing!

        “Y’keep followin’ me around mate, and I might get the wrong idea.”