Then ask me what it’s like to have myself so figured out, I wish I knew…

http://stylishlook.tumblr.com/

Medieval Gold Ring with Rare Pink Sapphire, 15th Cen. AD

Pink sapphire was very rare in Medieval Europe. It probably arrived with a batch of blue sapphires from Myanmar. The quality is extremely high.

do not delete the caption or source.

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                     but we’re on the 𝓼𝓪𝓶𝒆 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝒆;

                                                   …𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕃𝕀𝕍𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕊𝕀𝔻𝔼.

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friendly reminder: rpers love being asked questions directed at their character to answer, especially if they’re verse / canon related.

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                     but we’re on the 𝓼𝓪𝓶𝒆 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝒆;

                                                   …𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕃𝕀𝕍𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕊𝕀𝔻𝔼.

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    OH, JOY. companionship. perhaps someone with half a brain, if he was lucky. it was no fun poking insults at the crew here, they were too stupid to understand the jokes and it was somewhat defeating to have to explain a joke to someone. westley’d been caught during departure, sentenced to hanging once they reached the coast. ( and, unironically, they wanted to put him to work and have him build his own gallows in the new colony. )

     gaze is fixated upon the newcomer, presuming him to be a stowaway considering circumstances. the captain did not move nor speak for some time, not until the new captive noticed him. lips purse slightly and he turns over, leaning against the side of the hold as gloved fingers tuck into the crooks of his elbows. brow cocks, stern expression replaced with something akin to mild amusement.

             ‘ pleasure. Roberts, at your service. ‘

    a small nod is given rather than his usual bow, hand dipping into one of his sleeves briefly to pull out an orange, which was promptly thrown towards tulio. it’s not like the brig could easily confine him, it really wasn’t hard to sneak out and steal food every night.

            ‘ you should probably eat something, you look like you’ve been starved for days. ‘

₪ — Considering the fact that both men were locked up against their will, Tulio failed to see the circumstances that provoked the almost entertained look that crossed the other’s features, and he furrowed his brows accordingly, feeling suddenly irritated by the notion. He took a moment to study the man before him, taking in every inch of his appearance as if it was important to know each fine detail of his new companion.

            Leaning his back against the musty wooden planking of the walls, he slumped down and sit with his knees drawn into his chest, arms falling to splay uselessly against his sides. He thumped his head against the surface once, twice, only stopping when the man’s introduction was given, followed by the toss of something - and orange, he noted with a quick flick of his gaze, and a comment about his condition.

         ❝Gee, thanks for noticing,❞ he responded with his usual snark, rolling his eyes - until he realized something, and his eyes stopped mid-roll to fall back to the orange with a look that suggested the harmless bit of fruit had somehow just assaulted him.

         ❝Wait, where did you get that?❞ he gawked, crossing his legs and leaning forward to grab the orange, inspecting it closely before casting the same offended expression to Roberts instead. Maybe he was mistaken, but the only thing he’d seen offered as food from the ship’s crew had been a few measly, dried up beans in a tin pan.

Wait….he’d left the dogs at the vet last night. That was why he’d been in that bar in the first place…which was where this mess started…he thought. There’d been a pretty woman there…

Why did the words ‘there’d been a pretty woman there’ seem to headline every crazy mess he got himself in?

He frowned into the beer-soaked carpet, trying to force the pieces into some kind of coherency.  Her name had been….Lizzy…Eliza….Beth…something like that…and he’d bought her a drink and a drink or two later she convinced him to be her companion at some party and the host would never mind Vin showing up as her plus-one since she and the host where best friends and it snowballed into chaos from there.

He had heard the footsteps approaching somewhere in his muddled confusion about his dogs and then he smelled the coffee. That scent brought him slightly back to life, though he had no idea what the disembodied voice said to him about the carpet, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows, and then onto his knees. It took a minute but he finally found himself seated with the cup of coffee in his hands and his back against the couch.

Bloodshot eyes considered the haggard man in front of him. Yep…Vin only vaguely remembered the man from last night as someone he tried to punch…something about an insult to…whats-her-name….who had ended up leaving with some jacked-up body builder anyways.

He took a sip of the coffee, and his eyes roved over the destroyed room.

“Shit…” Vin shook his head at the mess. “I’ll help you clean all this up.” The offer was automatic, despite the headache flaring with the movement. It only seemed proper…the memories of last night were tequila-tinted but he had, somehow or another, been involved in this disaster. It was only right he help fix it…and pay for any damages he might have caused….and as a thank you to the man who had, apparently, put his drunken butt up for the night after Vin tried to break his nose.

He looked toward the man again and made a vague, floppy gesture, “You’re the guy I tried punchin’ last night, ain’t you?”

₪ — From the current state of appearance the other man wore, Tulio figured he could safely assume that the guy felt at least as shitty as he did. When he managed to find his way back to the couch with his mug in hand, Tulio moved to sit in the old, ratty arm chair that was placed next to it, crossing and ankle over his knee and setting his own cup on the end table when he suddenly discovered the lack of desire to drink it anymore.

            It must be pretty damn bad if even Tulio couldn’t stomach coffee, of all things. Some would call him an addict to the substance if they knew him well, to which he’d have to agree if it was ever said to his face. And therefore the fact that the usually intoxicating smell was nothing but nauseating to him only proved that this was by far the worst hangover he’s ever experienced in his life.

             When the offer to help him clean up was voiced, Tulio simply waved a dismissing hand towards the stranger on his couch, running a hand through the unruly black locks atop his head in an attempt to smooth them out. ❝No need, I’ve already got a couple of friends coming over later to help out. But, thank you anyway.❞

             Perhaps he was being a little too lenient, considering this was the same man who’d tried to fist fight him just last night. He supposed he had to pin it all down to the fact that he wasn’t all too comfortable with strangers in his apartment, hence the near meltdown he’d had the night before when random person after person kept piling into the tiny apartment. If he was honest, the sooner this guy could pick himself up and leave, the better.

.            Which begged the question; why he’d allowed him to stay in the first place?

          ❝Bingo,❞ he affirmed, a slight grimace tugging at the corner of his mouth as he recalled the incident, though the bits and pieces he could actually remember were fuzzy and unclear around the edges. ❝Though I have to admit, you throw a mean punch. Even if you ended up losing to a wall,❞ he added, smirking now.

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                     but we’re on the 𝓼𝓪𝓶𝒆 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝒆;

                                                   …𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕃𝕀𝕍𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕊𝕀𝔻𝔼.

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did i talk shit? absolutely.