#vocesofmd

[indestructiblelittlefuckers]

@vocesofmd (continued)

It wasn't that Edward hadn't tried. Once he felt well enough to actually move around, he tried to fix the cottage. He tried to just accept that Izzy was gone and that he would have to just move on. But how could he? It was like the grief was pulling him down, to the ground, an unbearable weight on his shoulders. It would kill him and if he wanted to be honest with himself, he wanted it to kill him. Before he dragged Stede down with him. Stede... he didn't seem to be dealing with this any better — Ed saw him, almost every night to sit by Izzy's grave and talk to him, when Ed refused to even acknowledge that he had been there at all. And when one night he came back to bed crying because probably an animal had disturbed the grave, Ed knew they couldn't stay. They couldn't just move on either.

Ricky would come back to the Republic eventually, and they had to be ready. Only the wait made Ed get lost in his head too much and for once again he found solace in drinking and drugs. He had several ideas about their revenge plans, but one day, just like that the thought was pushed away. Ed had just too many ideas about what to do with their lives to think about that. The Inn seemed boring, fishing was something he wasn't that good at, but he could make clothes, couldn't he? He made made his own leather jacket, after all, and it was fun doing that, so he could be a tailor... a leather tailor. Now that was a business idea, wasn't it? They'd open a shop with leather outfits, or at least one that matched Ed's beloved style. Blackbeard's style. Follow the trend. Merchandise. Or whatever Frenchie had called it. Frenchie! He could be of help, he was good at these things and he had to find him, so he asked the fishermen to let him know when Revenge returned to Nassau. What if they combined a outfit shop with alcohol? Mixed drinks and trying outfits, now that sounded even more fun?

Stede barely seemed to follow Ed and his ideas, but he didn't protest much. He had been drinking too, so maybe Ed's mixed drinks idea would work perfectly. He had been looking for a good rum deal at the market when he saw something... someone that made him freeze. It had been as if he had been high, dancing, having fun when suddenly he was sober. Almost as if he was in a trance, Ed walked to the man, his hand on his shoulder to make him turn around.

It was Izzy. ❝Izzy?❞ Ed grinned and let out a small sigh in relief... before reality kicked. It could not be Izzy, could it? That man had died. In his arms. They had all buried him, sobbing. Was he really losing his mind? Had he drunk too much? But why wouldn't his mind recreate the same image Ed held of him? Why give him this new look? ❝How... Are you real? ❞

[tatteredxsails]

@vocesofmd cont. from here

"Israel Hands," the man's reedy voice sounded wrong around the name. He stood with an unnatural sort of rigidity, the blue and white of his somewhat oversized naval uniform crisp and unbroken in. He drew in a deep breath, something that made an odd sort of sucking noise beneath the false nose so carefully placed on his face.

"I have read so much about you. Blackbeard's right hand man," the man said with a measured rhythm. He stepped closer, looking down at Izzy where the man was bound. "Rumor has it that he's the reason for... this."

His thin hand rested just above the end of Izzy's false leg, fingers tracing one of the straps that held it in place.

"Is it true?"

[krakensmaw]

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐗𝐓 a grin and a snarl. the dagger's tip still kissed the arch of his first mate's throat, and edward blackbeard offered no sign of mercy nor retreat. " mm, that so? ... you're a shite fuckin' liar, iz. " fingertips pressed to leather, supple beneath long built callouses. he watched the fresh pearl of crimson with interest as it left a trail in its wake and fled beneath the man's collar. " always have been. "

chest rose and fell, and rose again. he held that laboured breath captive until their lungs BURNED with it. " you shouldn't have, " a low rumble that died upon his tongue and was swallowed down to join the ache at the pit of their stomach. " you should never have loved me. why in the FUCK did you have to go n' do that ... " it's not a real question. don't answer. don't answer.

@vocesofmd / from here.

[indestructiblelittlefuckers]

@vocesofmd (cont)

The past few hours had been insane, almost as if it was just a long lucid dream. One moment he was on his boat, fishing, the next he was looking for Stede and then one thing after the other. And when Ed thought they finally got away, when they were on the ship, ready to go, he saw Izzy collapsing. When was he injured? Why wasn't he paying more attention?

Before he knew what he was doing, Edward found himself by Izzy's side, checking on him. Everything would be fine, it was just... nothing. It was nothing. Only he had to focus. It wasn't the first time he took care of an injured man — he just hoped it would be the last — so he knew what to do. He couldn't move Izzy, not until he did what he had to do. So, he asked for something that resembled of a pillow, clean water, scissors, alcohol, bandages, needle and a thread. It took the crew a moment to get out of their shocked state to listen, but they did. ❝Hey Iz? Izzy?❞ Ed gently slapped the other's face to wake him up as they waited ❝Look at me, mate. Look at me. It's gonna be okay. We just need to clean you up and you'll be good as new.❞

[indestructiblelittlefuckers]

@vocesofmd (cont)

It was perhaps the first time in his life that Ed didn't feel anything at all (or wasn't that how he felt in days like these, always as if it was for the first time. some days, when he got like that, he didn't want to do anything that but stare at nothing. others, he wanted to see the world burn, just like now). It was easier that way. Not caring who died, or who lived. Just the end goal. Destroy the Navy. Not just Ricky, he wasn't enough, he knew that. Every goddamn man that represented a threat to piracy. They had all heard stories of Blackbeard, even when he was the Kraken. But they had never seen him like this.

He wondered why the crew joined him. They could see who he was, what he was about to do. Maybe they wanted revenge as much as he did, maybe they wanted to stand for something for the first time in their fucking lives. Did they regret it? Did they want to leave, to plan another mutiny? Honestly, he didn't give a fuck. There were people in his crew, that were loyal to him, seeing the world as Blackbeard did. Even if the old crew didn't see it his way, they wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.

Stede was the only one that made Ed pause sometimes, made him Ed again. And god, sometimes he fucking hated him for it. The past was in the past and there he was, giving Ed glimpses of what once was. Of a completely different life. One that he had retired, opened an Inn, never killed again. One that... he was in it.

At first they fought a lot, Ed snapping at him, throwing things next to him. Stede holding his tongue at first until he didn't. Now they barely talked to each other. Maybe Stede didn't stay for Ed at all, not anymore. Maybe he stayed for his crew, for the life he wanted to lead. Maybe he wanted to make Ricky pay for what he did.

They hadn't been on land for months. Ed had only stayed a week at the cottage and then one day, he just left. Now, he was back at Nassau, to get supplies, to find new people that would join him — one bad thing about not caring who died at a raid, was that these people had to be replaced later. And Jim, weirdly not that angry at him as others were, had suggested that Blackbeard should recruit them. Who could say no to him?

As he was headed to a tavern that were supposed to be some fans of his work, Ed saw... him. He froze. Blinked to make the vision go away. It wasn't in his head. It was him. No, not him. Just someone that looked like him.

Ed followed him, wanting to kill that man for daring to look like him. He knocked the door — the polite man that he was — but when the other man did not open it right away, Ed shrugged and knocked it down. He pointed a gun at the man that... no, not the one thought he was, he kept telling himself.  

❝Alright, mate. 'gonna give ya a chance to save yourself. ❞ Poor guy, not knowing why he was even threatened by Blackbeard. Did he even know he was Blackbeard? He had the black paint around his eyes, the leathers, new scars on his bare arm, one across his collarbone.  But that fucker looked so much like the one that he wasn't supposed to, he even had one leg. If he was going for the look, he was certainly committed, Blackbeard had to give him that. ❝Tell me who the fuck are ya and why I shouldn't kill ya right now.❞

[indestructiblelittlefuckers]

@vocesofmd (cont)

It wasn't grief that brought him in this... state, as Stede called it. It was... fuck, that was who Ed was and he had been a fool to ever think that he could be something else. That he could be Jeff the Innkeeper, someone that could bury Blackbeard in the ground like they had buried him. Ed had grown up in violence and the ever perfect cliche, he had become violent himself. It was the way of life, and didn't his own mother tell to accept it as it was?

This life was just not working and Ed had preparing for what would come next. Revenge. Bloodshed. A fucking ending not determined by the English. And whoever stood in his way, well... good riddance.

The last thing he expected when he returned to the almost collapsing cabin was to find a stranger there. To his grave. If Ed barked at whoever dared to grieve near him, how could he let a fucking stranger stand by the grave. The gun pointed at the woman, ready to fire when she spoke.

❝You're... Mary?❞ Edward couldn't help but laugh, a brief but bitter, almost manic laugh. He lowered his gun ❝He ain't here.❞ He wasn't sure if he should be giving her any information, if she was even the woman she claimed she was, although she looked exactly like Ed thought she'd be. Perhaps less fancy than she was in his head. ❝What do ya want him for? Didn't you two... broke up?❞

[indestructiblelittlefuckers]

@vocesofmd [cont]

Even though he had been in a similar state before, it had never gone so far. And this time it had gone away too far, hadn't he? He had almost gotten all of them killed — at the time it seemed like it was the only thing he had left to do — and even before that, in those couple of weeks, he had become someone Ed never thought even existed.

Now, he was back from the dead or whatever state he was actually in and he could see things clearly and the fact that the crew didn't still want him dead was more than surprising — although perhaps if it wasn't for Stede, he would have been thrown at the sea before he could recover. And who would blame them?

A few days had passed and even though things weren't as they were with Stede, they were... something. Better than nothing, better than when Stede had left him without a warning. Who could guarantee that he wouldn't leave again?

A few days had passed, and Ed and Izzy had barely spoken, which had worked perfectly for him — what could they really say anyway?

So when he and Izzy were the only ones left at the deck, Edward was tempted to walk back inside and leave him be. But even though he would not admit it, he always found it hard to completely let go of the other man, even when it was clear to him it would have been for the best.

❝ It's not gonna get any better if you are standing all the time, y' know.❞ he commented, walking next to him, but choosing to look at the sea instead of him.

[indestructiblelittlefuckers]

@vocesofmd liked this for a "no-filter" Izzy

Izzy took a sip of his newly bought rum and leaned towards Frenchie slightly, who was standing next to him when Stede was trying to do.... whatever the hell he was trying to do ❝ In another life, you and I could be a thing. ❞ he nodded, stood straight and got back to his rum.