AmongHeroes

Loki's Laugh

This is a random fan moment, but I'd just like to say you all have an awesome RP here. I haven't been able to keep up with the whole thing as much as I'd like, but whenever I have a chance I pop in the IC and am never disappointed.

Tides of Dusk: A Piratical Tale of Fantasy

Thomas welcomed the first glimpse of the sun’s face with a smile. From his position leaning against the railing of the Dusk Skate’s aft castle, the red glow of the dawn mixed beautifully with the lingering blue of the night. The singular moment of stunning transition from light to dark conjured memories of the equally beautiful moments from the hours before. There was a pleasant soreness to his muscles to accompany these memories, and Thomas sighed with a contented tilt of his head.

The pirate captain wondered if Antonia was even now still slumbering in the tangle of bed covers in his cabin, or if she had awoken to find the single Amazon Lily that he had placed beside her head. Thomas had considered it quite the feat to slip from his cabin, acquire the flower from an early rising dock vendor, and return to Antonia’s side to place the small token near her, and all without the rogue discovering him. That notion took his smile to a smirk. More than likely, Antonia had full knowledge of his comings and goings, and she was just humoring the romantic whims of her Silverfish.

“How did I manage such good fortune?” Thomas said to the dawn. The morning replied with only its splendor, and Thomas thought that such an answer was more than satisfactory.

Thomas stood from the ship’s railing, and turned to walk slowly to the helm. His hands caressed the worn wood of the wheel, and Thomas’ thoughts of the night before morphed into wondering after what had come of Jax and Nicolette. He had no notion of what had transpired after the First Mate’s flight from the party, and Thomas hoped that whatever had occurred was pleasant. He trusted that it had, though he could not say why he felt as such. Thomas supposed that he would soon enough know, though perhaps not in detail, at least a notion at what had transpired with his crewmates.

The slight bob of the Dusk Skate tugging at her moorings brought Thomas back to the moment. The tide was in, and the slight breeze that attended it was out of the west. It was a simple sign of good tidings if Thomas was ever to find one amidst the qualities of a new day.

The time had come.

Thomas brought his fingers to his mouth, and blew a hard and jubilant whistle. The relative quiet of the young morning broke as the pirate captain called out to his crew, heralding the coming adventure.

“Awake! Awake you scoundrels and cutthroats!” Thomas yelled across the deck, his voice loud and tremulous with laughter. “To your stations, and make ready to sail. Fortune is calling to us this fine morning, and we shan’t keep her waiting.”

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Lillian Thorne said
Such lovely posts here, so many feels indeed. I'll hopefully be given something to post soon, I've been quietly chomping at the bit for over a week now.

You'll have something to chew on this evening, LT. Doing what I can with all that I have had going on, so sorry to all for the lack of material.

Great posts though in the interim. I'm constantly reminded how lucky I am to have such awesome writers in this RP. Bravo to you all!

Tides of Dusk: A Piratical Tale of Fantasy

((Collab with Igraine and AmongHeroes))

Thomas did not restrain the groan this time as Antonia’s body pressed against his own, and her lips tickled at the flesh of his ear. He should have expected her to wriggle away, and disappear in a flash of dark skin and shimmering beauty. If his mind had been more focused upon the playful edge to Antonia’s words, and not the electrifying proximity of her celestial body, he could have perhaps foreseen the coming game.

But where’s the fun in that? Thomas thought with a predatory smile.

With a trill of laughter hanging in the air, Thomas dove after the rogue. Antonia was strong and deft in her movements, and from the beginning Thomas had to pour power to his muscles just to keep up with her. The water churned around him as his own kicks and flutters propelled him into Antonia’s wake.

Through gulps of air, Thomas could see he was gaining upon Antonia. Flashes of skin shone in brief staccato in the moonlight, and the kicking heels of her feet grew closer with each passing moment. Thomas did not flatter himself with the notion that he was gaining upon the rogue on his skill as a swimmer alone; for all he knew letting him gain was all apart of Antonia’s playful scheme.

Still, he did not let that slow him down as he lunged forward from beneath the waves to clutch at her ankle. With a powerful tug he pulled at her leg, hoping to spin Antonia around to face him. Thomas’ grip was strong, though with the water and the laughter that was bubbling from his mouth, he did not trust that he could hold her for long.

Unseen, the rogue's eyes widened in genuine surprise beneath the waters when she felt that grip about her ankle, dunking her further still before pulling her to Thomas like the riptide.

But nicer. Much, much nicer...

She had , of course, fully intended Thomas should catch up with her - a promise was a promise after all, and this was certainly not one that would be a hardship in the keeping. And Antonia knew very well, a man only truly appreciated what he must work to take hold. Still, she might have guessed a man that could swim against a kraken and survive, would surely catch up with her long before she could finish her circuitous route to shore.

Laughing, Antonia turned toward Thomas, sputtering just a little with surprise and a touch too much sea water down her throat. There was no fighting that grip of his, and the rogue allowed herself to float toward her lovely man until she could wrap her arms about his neck once more, smiling mischievously up into that grinning face. One leg snaked in a slow, luxurious tease up over his hip, to rest languidly about his waist.

"Oh what ever shall I do?" the rogue cooed softly, the laughter in that warm, fragrant voice belying any true dismay. "The fisherman has caught his fish it seems... " Antonia bit her lip softly, eyes narrowing appraisingly as she searched those shining copper eyes, savoring all she read in their depths. She leaned forward just enough to nibble oh-so-gently at his chin, and then work her slow, unhurried way down his neck.

"Have you ever heard the tale Thomas, of the fisherman who released the talking fish he caught one fine day?" she whispered between soft kisses along his throat.

Thomas’ slicked back his wet hair, and met Antonia’s impish look with a supremely satisfied smile. The sensation of her leg entwining about his waist lifted his brow, and the metallic sheen in his eyes flickered with almost genuine brilliance. As Antonia looked to him, Thomas thought that he was no longer floating in the arms of the ocean, but instead buoyed upward by the rogue’s very aura.

As she leaned forward towards him, Thomas’ lips parted fractionally, anticipating a kiss that was long overdue. When instead Antonia’s soft caress came to his chin, he let out a light, but disappointed moan. The next kiss came upon his jaw, then his neck, and ever downward towards his collarbone. Ever farther from his lips.

With each added portion of her question, Thomas’ eyes closed slowly along with the words. His mind was not his own any longer. He was drunk upon the woman before him, utterly lost to the world save for her and her embrace. Without any conscious thought, Thomas drifted his right hand upward along Antonia’s leg, to the curve of her hip, her waist, her ribs, and still further up across her arm and neck, to the firm line of her chin.

There his finger stopped Antonia’s advance down his body, and he lifted the beautiful face, framed in tight ringlet curls of ebony, up to his own. For a brief moment Thomas merely stared transfixed into the grey pools of his love’s eyes, before his mind at last allowed him to speak.

“I have not heard the tale, and I don’t intend to let you tell it.”

With that, Thomas leaned forward, tilted his head, and pressed his lips against Antonia’s. His eyes closed once more, and through the touch of his skin to hers, he drank in all of the rogue that he could.

Antonia did not even know she held her breath when Thomas lifted her chin, holding her gaze entirely with his own before pressing his lips to hers. All thoughts of playing out her silly game vanished entirely in the heavenly bliss of that kiss. Oh, she had thought to wheedle out a few scant seconds more of freedom in the open ocean through some playful bit of chicanery. A tease? A trick? The rogue was a genuine mistress of deception and escape, but the moment the thrill of that kiss raced down her spine like lightning over the sea, Antonia knew she was finally and truly captured - and damn glad of it.

Their beloved stars must surely be smiling down on them this night, glimmering witnesses to the rogue's first kiss, shared at last with the only man she had ever loved, as sweetly and perfectly happy as a virginal bride on her wedding night. Their first kiss, an embrace delayed for far too long. The rogue surrendered herself to the pirate captain's lead, her lithe, supple body wrapping all about him, lost for several long, blissful moments as lips and tongue, fingers and flesh found delicious purchase beneath her every last touch.

Still, the rogue drew back for just a moment, to look up into those matchless copper eyes. "That is just fine Thomas," she whispered breathlessly, "I cannot tell the tale, since I have completely forgotten whatever it was I was going to say anyway... " Antonia shrugged helplessly, though that tender smile beneath grey eyes half-lidded with desire silently said all that was needful between them. The rogue’s eyes fell closed once more as she pressed all she had to the very last, to the lips, the hands and the heart of her lovely man.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

That's perfectly fine, TNY. I'm actually way behind myself getting to my latest post. Got a lot that has come up in RL here, so I'm not getting my free time to write my next installment. This should change hopefully soon, but if you think you'll have something with Grainy worked out soon-ish, than I might just wait on that.

Tides of Dusk: A Piratical Tale of Fantasy

Thomas shivered in spite of the warm water that lapped across his bare skin, responding pleasantly to Antonia’s kiss at his shoulders and the delicate caress of her fingers across his back. He looked to her, his eyes drifting across the glittering outline of her figure as the white chemise clung to caramel skin bathed in the silver face of the moon. The sight was like a siren’s call to desire for Thomas, and the intoxicating air of sensuality from the earlier exchange in the woods flooded back to his senses.

“Dieu dans le ciel…” God in heaven… Thomas said softly, managing to repress a groan that threatened to bubble up sensuously from his chest.

It was an exercise in will for Thomas to not turn and envelope Antonia with his lustful embrace, to simply succumb to every carnal need he had entertained since his eyes first fell upon the rogue, but he managed to restrain himself. He forced his eyes into the night sky and demanded his mind to focus upon only the beautiful rogue’s words, and not the proximity of her divine curves.

“Indeed, it is a grand tale,” he said at last. “Though not one that oft passes my lips. It is extraordinary enough in truth that not many believe it, and so I don’t burden people’s faith with the telling.”

Thomas shrugged and smiled, his eyes narrowing mischievously at Antonia. “Though, I imagine you have to believe me, no?”

He leaned over to kiss Antonia upon the ebony curls atop her head before turning his gaze out towards the open sea.

“When I turned fifteen,” Thomas began, his voice vaguely pleasant and airy, “Lightfoot and his crew were on a campaign in the Lesser Antilles, raiding settlements and shipping lanes all the way from Aruba down to Trinidad. It was a strange time in my life, as it was the first time that Lightfoot had ever kept me from traveling with the Skate. He gave no reason for his decision to leave me in Tortuga, save for a mention that I had yet to live upon the burden of my own will, and that it was high time I did so.”

Thomas snorted. “I was crestfallen. I took his meaning to be that I had not yet proven myself man enough to be among his company. I remember sitting in his friend’s hovel, a transplanted cutthroat from Jipangu named Goro, and holding back hot tears of shame and resentment. Never in my life had I felt so worthless and betrayed. Like every boy at that age, I looked upon my father’s hard lessons with scorn. I blamed all the world for what I saw as the ultimate injustice a man could bestow upon a boy that held him in such high esteem.”

“So I vowed to prove him wrong, to show Lightfoot that he had made a mistake in underestimating the man I was to become.” Thomas looked to Antonia once more.

“I had heard a rumor along the docks, you see? There was said to be a small privateer sloop that had sank in shoal water off the coast of Isla Tolinga. Though the nature of her prize varied with whoever was telling the tale, everyone agreed that she carried a sizable chest of silver ingots. Certainly enough to warrant diving for.”

“Of course, I was not the only person that thought as much, and several dozen attempted to dive and find the wreck. Nothing was ever discovered, and as the months passed, the consensus came to be that Neptune had claimed the silver for himself.”

A smile crept up the corners of his lips, and Thomas rolled his eyes a little. “But, I knew better. I was young, strong, and fearless. Certainly, Thomas Lightfoot, being the great pirate that he was, could look into the face of Neptune, and steal his ill-gotten silver.”

“So, one day I chartered a berth aboard a fishing boat that was to put out nets nearby where the sloop had supposedly sunk. They dropped me off along the shores of Isla Tolinga, with a promise to return in two days to collect me.”

Though the smile stayed upon Thomas’ face, his eyes grew distant, their coppery sheen fading with recollection.

“I remember just how eerily calm the water was that morning. My good fortune with the weather stoked my confidence, and I just knew that that very day I was to change my fate forever, and prove to Lightfoot that I was a boy no more.”

“I swam out some distance, looking down into waters more clear than I have ever seen again. I tell you, Antonia, it was like providence was shining down, piercing the blue of the sea.”

His face grew alight, and a soundless laugh shook him. “Looking down, I swear I saw her there, the sloop. Not more than thirty fathoms beneath me, in the deep blue, her broken outline seemed so clear and distinct. Without waiting, I dove, drunk on my own promised future. With each thrust of my arms and legs it all seemed that much more real, more definitive. Never had I been more certain of anything before in my life. I had found what no one else had. I was about to change my stars.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes as he paused. For a moment he seemed to be holding onto the glory of that very memory, as if it were some delicious morsel that had alighted upon his tongue but only for an instant. It left him quickly, that flash of glorious remembrance, before it was replaced with a grim mask.

“And never have I been more wrong. What I had seen, what I had mistaken for the sloop, was no construct of man at all. It was a creature of the deep.”

His hand snaked over his back, pointing without looking to the spot on the tattoo that depicted a great squid-like head, with a large bulbous eye, and the open maw of a beaked mouth.

“It was a kraken.”

At the sound of the beast’s name, Thomas grew silent. He found Antonia’s gaze, and after a time he smirked, almost sheepishly as if he had been caught in a lie by his mother.

“It sounds outlandish, but in truth the beast tossed me around the sea for a time. I was certain I would die in its clutches, but to my utter surprise it tossed me on shore, and to this day I have never seen another sign of the creature again. All that I have left of my encounter are the scars on my back, and the memory of a day that even now seems like a dream.”

Thomas shrugged. “The fisherman kept their promise, and returned for me. Of my story they believed not a word, though they were happy to return me to Tortuga to tell the tale of a boy who went hunting for treasure, and ended up fighting a kraken instead.”

“Only Goro believed me. No one else in Tortuga did, and even now I’m still known their by the story. It was still on the lips of the town when Lightfoot finally returned some months later. With Goro at my side, I told him of my misadventure, and the man said not a word. All I can say of his reaction is that he granted me a permanent position at his side, and never again did he question me about the kraken.”

“Before he died, after I had been voted the new captain of the Skate, he sat me down one last time. Delirious with rum and fever he told me that it had been him that had started the rumor of the sloop before he had left for the Antilles.”

Thomas smiled down into the waters that lapped about his waist. “Of course, it’s ridiculous to think that he could have had any knowledge of the kraken when he came up with the story. Still, a part of me has always dreamt that the great, infamous pirate known as Lightfoot had somehow tamed a kraken, had forced it to lay in wait, biding its time for when I would come, and at last prove that I was ready to be at his side.”

“So, that’s why I have the tattoo.” Thomas said matter-of-factly, slapping at the water. “Goro has been working on it for some time, the old dog. It was to be a memento, a constant reminder of what it took to make me into the man I am today.”

Thomas looked up into Antonia’s grey eyes. He could not keep the smile from his own face, and the glitter returned to the copper orbs of his own pupils. “Well, how is that for a tall tale my dearest rogue? Worthy og a song, is it not?”

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Good morning all,
Just wanted to check in a see how everyone is doing? Hopefully all the Americans here still have every finger after Independence Day! I'll be posting probably tomorrow, but other than that, have a wonderful and relaxing weekend!

Tides of Dusk: A Piratical Tale of Fantasy

Thomas regarded Antonia with a look of empathy. He hadn’t known that Luc was of Antonia’s blood. It made sense, her love and affection for the boy, her desire for him to have a better life, and one not among the cutthroats of the New World. There was cruel irony to be seen, the fact that the safest place for the boy would be the very place Antonia didn’t want him to be.

“Antonia,” Thomas said, “I am sorry. I know that there were much higher ambitions for Luc than to be sailing among the scoundrels of this world.”

He scoffed. “Both of us know that fate does not always allow us to walk the path we were intended, no?”

Thomas ended his comparison to Antonia’s circumstances there. Even considering the loss of his parents, there was in no way that the scales of cruel luck balanced between the two of them. The particulars of Antonia’s past were still mostly a mystery to him, but he knew enough to recognize that life had dealt the rogue a hand far worse than his own. Truth be told, in Thomas’ summation she was playing it better.

He fell silent, his eyes drifting upward towards the stars. The sound of the waves crashing lazily against the sand was like a slow rhythm that gave cadence to his steps. So much had changed since the Dusk Skate had last reached port, and Thomas realized just how heavy it all seemed. With his shoes filled with sand, and the constant sound of the surf in his ears, a pleasant notion supplanted the grim screen that the night had spread across his spirit.

With a smile to Antonia, he slipped from her grasp. He began walking slowly to the waterline, tossing layers of clothing from his body as he moved. By the time his toes settled into the wet sand, and the warm Jamaican waters cascaded over his feet, Thomas stood in only his skin and a broad smile. His hands were on his hips, and he looked up into the night sky once more, feeling wholly liberated somehow from the burden of all that had transpired.

A slight chuckle passed his lips, and he walked into the waves. When his waist was submerged he turned back to the beach, giving Antonia a beckoning wave. He said nothing to accompany his gesture. There wasn’t any need to.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Thanks TNY, I look forward to getting your ideas.