tagged by: antichristmanatee name: Bryanna

nicknames:  Bree, Burpasaurus Brex, The Bird Lady 

gender: ????

sexuality: bi 

height: 161cm 


what time and date it is there: 23:27 PM Dec 17th 2014 

average hours of sleep: 5

otps: The Outsider/Corvo/Daud, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Kieren Walker/Simon Monroe, Agron/Nasir, Lagertha/Athelstan/Ragnar uhmmmm like eleventy billion more tbh 

the last thing i googled: 'paulo pascoal' and 'rafa rech' they're beautiful

what i last said to a family member: “G'night."

one place that makes me happy and why: The international airport, because it means I'm going on another adventure, and meeting more of my friends who live overseas (ya'll need to quit that btw and stop being so far away goddamnit)

how many blankets do i sleep under: 1 sheet because it's fuckin hot here rn

favourite beverage: water

the last movie i watched in the cinema: the latest Hunger Games movie

three things i can’t live without: my tunes, my computer, MY FRIENDS

something i plan on learning: all the languages I can  you HAVE to listen to this song: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Beat The Devil's Tattoo | The Irrepressibles - In This Shirt | Karnivool - Goliath | Koven - Final Call

tagging: doncelalume | shotofmercury | deaths-chessmate

Caught Dancing II Modern

Rolling onto her back she lifted her hands and imitated a bell being struck. “Ding ding ding. Ladies and gentleman, Charlie Oliver has finally understood after,” she looked at her watch, “1 minute of silence.”

Helena grinned as she continued talking, using her hands to emphasise certain words when she wanted to. “I suggest you run for your life. A girl who reads 50 shades may want to try BDSM and my cousin educated me on this subject.” Making a face that was a mix of ‘don’t even’ and ‘I don’t even know’ she went, “Don’t ask me how she knows about this. But she told me that what is depicted in the book is not even remotely considered BDSM.”

Now on her stomach she crawled over to Charlie and lay across him, flopping down so he wouldn’t be able to get back up. “Why go out with someone who might have to rush to you to a hospital to get your hand amputated because she tied a knot wrong when you can watch dwarves in a barrel with me?”

"Only a minute this time?" Charlie asked sarcastically, prodding at her sharply. He paused at Helena's admission that a cousin had clued her in to how horrible the aforementioned book was, eyebrows raising in shock. "What, for real? They know this? Like from experience? As in, they've done something like that, or similar? Have I mentally scarred you yet?" he continued, laughing loudly at the expression on his friend's face, his earlier discomfort momentarily forgotten. "Oh God, that's too good. Of all people, it had to be your cousin. Which one?" he needled, shit-eating grin firmly planted on his face.

He realised too late what Helena was doing, just sighing as she draped herself across his legs, effectively trapping him. "Oh, well, when you put it that way, how could I resist? I mean, it's certainly a close call but I have a feeling I'd appreciate dwarves in barrels just a little bit more than a trip to the emergency room," he said, with a wink. "Shall I bring alcoholic beverages or are we being responsible this time?"

"Aye, ‘m still here. Nassau has it’s highs an’ lows, jus’ like anywhere. Only here the society is much less bothersome. ‘m assumin’ that’s wha’ brought the new lass here." Anne laughed before rising from her seat, crossing to a small chest. “Got somethin’ better. Liar’s dice an’ plenty of good Port. An’ go ‘head an’ smoke. Won’t hurt nothin’ in here.” She came back to the table and sat across from Charlie this time, sliding him a bottle of Port and a cup with the five dice inside.

"'Less bothersome'? Well, aye, I'd have to agree with you on that. Though there's still a fair amount of posturing going on - all that 'my ships bigger and got more guns than yours' sorta business - people are less judgmental here. Us lads, obsessed with size," he said dryly, eyes rolling skyward with a self-deprecating smile. 

"Ooh, she's prepared this time, dice and drinks! And, don't mind if I do," Charlie added as he pulled out his pipe and tobacco pouch, shooting her a wide smile. He finished off the dregs left of the rum before taking the offered bottle of Port with a sagely nod, noting she'd already popped the cork for him. "Seems you can't get away from your job, eh?" he noted, tilting the bottle a little with a snort. As he fumbled with his pipe in order to get it lit - the rum and his bruises making him a little unsteady - he clarified, "So, which way are we doin' this? Just the one set of dice or two?"

                                                       you’re so [ fond ]                                                                    of                                                                ｍａｓｋｓ                                                         that sometimes                                                           you f o r g e t                                                         who you truly are.

No opals yet, but my mom’s black pearls came in.

A pair of flintlock pistols originating from Liege, Belgium.  Crafted by Philippe Sellier, Circa 1720.

A silver and coral decorated flintlock pistol originating from Algeria, 19th century.

Anne laughed. “Right — forgot ‘bout that. Though ev’ry now an’ then, some poor, innocent soul wanders into Nassau. They don’ stay long.”  "Oh I knew it’d jus’ break your heart." The redhead teased back. "However will ya’ manage?" The grin on her face and mischievous glint in her eye only worsened as their banter went on. "An’ shockingly ‘nough, I don’. New lass tryin’ ta’ find footin’ ‘ere offered ta’ work tonight. God help her. Ya’ lot aren’t an easy bunch ta’ deal with - especially for a posh girl like her."

With a shrug, Charlie laughed, "Well, it can't be all bad can it? You stayed on, didn't you? Even if you're not one for the company, Nassau is a beautiful place, you can't deny that."

Slumping dramatically in his chair, he sighed, "It's beyond me, Anne. We shall just have to suffer this together, since you refuse to toss me into the street. God help you, you'll have to listen to me talk. Can't say I didn't warn you though!" Drinking the rum lazily, he hummed in surprise. "Posh girl, eh? Well I've seen all types here, so I suppose I'm not that surprised. But she came alone did she? That's odd," he mused aloud, though it was clear he wasn't really all that dedicated to that train of thought. "So! You've the night off, and I'm under temporary house arrest! D'you have any wood I can whittle or somethin'? And do you mind if I smoke? I think I have my pipe on me somewhere..." he trailed off, patting at his coat with his free hand. 

///"brush" | charlie

It took the other a moment to understand what his old friend just noised, Fillan felt his knees shaking a bit, his stomache aching from the ugly grip of guilt and sadness, anger and fear he swallowed the past years, as he held onto Charlie’s shoulder like a drunkyard just coming from a night out.   He was not able to face him directly yet, staring at the slim chin with blond hairs curled around, falling in thin straines on the bare shoulders under the leathered vest of the Stowaway. A handsome young man he was now, the beanpole he knew from their early years, Fillan gulped the suprise down a bit. He nodded slowly now, taking one deep breath after the other. 

"Tshsk—", words stuck in his throat actually, the grip around the other’s jacket tightened a bit, "Promise! Swear it!" Like if they were still children, Fillan rose one hand now, drawing a cross over his heart before showing his companion two fingers up, meeting his gaze for the first time —eyes looking washed out like a swamped shore at tide. "Swear whatever happens this night —no guns or knifes will be pulled out, no other Templars or Assassin’s shall know about this, no one will be told, not even our crews or those we call friends and family", Fillan was not sure if Charlie found that said uncle he once was talking about before vanishing to the sea, but it was not even really of the matter, he just wanted to be sure. "´nd we’ll be just —Charlie & Fillan. No one else, ´right?" 

He didn’t even know where to go with him, as common taverns or bars were actually too crowded, the risk of getting in sight of any others of the brotherhood too big that he would actually intend to visit one of his regular places to hang out for a while. But he probably could have stayed anywhere with him —just having enough of his company to make him forget the harsh times for a moment.      “We could stay here at the port or something…? What do you think…?” 

Charlie unthinkingly readjusted his hold on Fillan when he felt the faint wobble in the other boy's legs, helping to keep him steady. Though the lad was taller now, he was still painfully thin, much like he'd been all those years ago, whereas he himself had had the advantage of not having to worry about such things anymore. If only he'd come with me, he thought with a resigned sigh.

He blinked at the amount of desperate determination he heard in Fillan's voice, his breath catching at the familiar hand gesture the other boy did, eyes wide as he stared at him. He'd almost forgotten it, such a small thing, but the meaning behind it was profound. Charlie hadn't expected to be granted this much trust again by the other boy ever, and was so shocked he stood there for a full ten seconds before responding. Lifting his free hand, he crossed over his heart, then interlocked his first two fingers with Fillan's, showing him that unbreakable chain, the everlasting knot that they'd sworn to each other so long ago. "I swear it," he said simply, his voice breaking slightly on the last word. From the moment they'd felt the bond of their friendship when they were children, Fillan was the only family that mattered. That hadn't changed. He wouldn't be the one to bring their respective allegiances into what remained of their bond only for it to be ruined.

With one last fond pat on Fillan's shoulder, Charlie straightened and stepped back, dropping his hands. "I can barely remember one street from another, so I'll be following your lead on this one. Wherever you feel safe, I will too," he said, lopsided smile returning briefly.

Caught Dancing II Modern

"What can I say? I have a talent most men would kill for," she chuckled, keeping her hand up so Charlie could finish typing the digits. "And some women would like it too if they swung that way. As for this afternoon? I was thinking about getting out a tub of ice cream and re-watching The Desolation of Smaug."

Hearing him put his phone away Helena rolled over onto her sides to look at him, reaching over to tap the nose of her best friend. “Now remember, she doesn’t like hamburgers nor does she enjoy Star Wars.” Raising her tone a few notes she imitated the girl complete with hand gestures. “Oh my god, it’s like so boring. I mean like, what the fuck? It’s for kids. Why would grown ups even watch it?” 

"But she’s got boobs and a butt, I’m assuming is a natural blond and is an avid reader of the 50 shades series. Bonus?" She finished her sentence with a cheeky grin.

"Well I know I'm impressed that's for sure. I'll learn, one day," he said, though his tone remained unconvinced. He perked up at the word 'Desolation', rounding on Helena. "I'm invited right?" he blurted, then scoffed at the absurdity. "Of course I'm invited, you wouldn't not invite me for The Hobbit and ice cream what kind of friend wouldn't invite me for that-"

He paused in his rambling when she poked his nose, blinking in muted surprise. Charlie's expression fell as she began to list the (to them) negative things about the mystery girl, openly balking by the end. "Christ Almighty! She sounds like my antithesis. I'm suddenly not so keen to text her," he admitted with a groan, leaning forward to hide his face in his hands. "But she really is quite a looker." After a moment of silent consideration, he mumbled, "This is like a test of seeing how far I'm willing to go just to get laid, isn't it?"

She quirked a brow at him and his ever familiar gesture, a smirk spreading on her features despite herself. “Don’ go makin’ promises ya’ can’t keep. An’ I’d much rather ya’ show up here than hold on ta’ your pride an’ bleed out in the street somewhere, ya’ idjit.” Anne’s tone was light and joking, though she meant what she said.

“‘sides. I can’t let ya’ leave now. You’re a wanted man an’ all!” She gestured for the bottle in his hand, taking it and helping herself to a drink before handing it back to him. "Looks like you’re stuck with me."

"Ha! I'll keep that in mind," Charlie replied smoothly, winking before dropping her hand gently and leaning back in the chair. At being called a 'wanted man' he snorted out a laugh, marveling at the irony as he handed the bottle to her. "A wanted man on an island full of pirates. That'll be the day. You're right though, I don't think they'll welcome my face around that particular establishment for a while."

Taking the bottle back, he gave her a mirthful look as he teased, "God forbid! Anyone but you!" Taking another swig, he asked, "D'you have to head over to the Avery later?"

I GAVE YOU A BETTER HAT! LOOK AT HOW MANLY YOU LOOK. 

IS THIS SOME KIND OF A SICK JOKE? WHY MUST YOU WOUND ME LIKE THIS?

"I’m coming for you, Comte" the match