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Clown Prince of Hubris

Clown Prince of Hubris

Nov 25
29 tweets

Even Stede conceded that there was no point in running a drill, that the crew were probably as prepared as they were even going to be - although he appreciated Izzy explaining that they'd all managed to not die the second the English boarded Ed was trying to work out tactics but

there were only so many ways you could spin 'five big ships with more sail to catch the wind surround one poncy pleasure boat' Izzy helped though, watching the conception of a fuckery take place in Ed's eyes - lost to the process as he started to share indecipherable orders
with the crew, their current stock in smoke and mirrors already being put to good use. "We'll scare the shit out of them, if nothing else!" Ed crowed, expression wild, and it was as infectious as ever; even Stede's far milder and needlessly neurotic addtions to the set pieces
were helping lift Izzy's mood. He liked the idea of someone else being scared right now. Even if it was the very least they could manage, like Ed said.
Time flies, though, when you're waiting on the inevitable; and it was still the Swede's voice that sounded out to confirm their impending destiny. Edward, battle paint on and smoke in his breath, flashed his teeth towards the approaching sails. Stede had gone very pale.
He must have seen Izzy looking, because he offered up a tight little smile. "It wasn't that I didn't believe you, Isreal" he offered as means of an explanation, "It's just a litte different to see it." Izzy nodded, his mind working over different replies before he,
in a moment of boldness only such hopeless circumstances could cultivate, reached out and took Stede's hand; white lace and warm skin against his own. "It'll be different" Izzy said, not letting himself doubt it, not now "Just you, you both stay where I can see you."
There is a moment of painful comprehension in Stede's eyes that three days ago would have made Izzy want to bite and snarl, to be seen like that. But far worse had happened to him since, what harm was there in Bonnet knowing now, that he cared?
"We'll be right with you," Stede's voice was soft, and Izzy bit back the horrible broken sound that he wanted to make as Stede moved his thumb in a circle, applying extra heat where it rested against Izzy's hand, right by his tattoo. "Won't we, Ed?"
Ed jumped down next to them both, teeth still flashing white as he swept Stede up in his arms; seperating him from Izzy as he dipped him, ridiculously, the two captains kissing like the world wasn't about to end. Like Izzy hadn't seen them both lose each other now
Izzy's hand twitched where Bonnet's was now missing, he put it on his sword instead, as Ed put the other man back on his feet; the two of them giggling. Ed turned to him, reaching out, and for a dizzying moment that Izzy could only assume
was brought on by his own mounting hysteria, he thought Ed might kiss him too, but instead Ed just clapped a hand warmly on his shoulder. "Not going anywhere, mate." And it was almost enough, so Izzy smiled and nodded.
The attack went differently, for them being forewarned. Wee John, prompted to take the cannon immediately and not as a last result, managed to hold off two of the ships for a long breathless moment, and as the minutes of pursuit ticked on by Izzy felt something not unlike hope
in his chest. This was differen't, already it was different. But when the enemy boots hit the deck, the feeling in the air changed immediately. It wasn't different enough.
They stayed together though, like Stede had promised, the three of them protecting the helm; Izzy protecting the only things that mattered, ignoring the sounds of the crew as one fell, and then another. They were taking plenty with them,
and in the smoke and discordant fog Ed had created; the screams of the english sailors were a symphony to Izzy's nerves. Not all of the fear here was his. The smoke didn't just hide them though, and with a creak that almost went unheard beneath the sound of men dying
Izzy turned to see a hulking mountain of a sailor, not an officer perhaps but weathered and weilding an axe; clearly the pride of this gauntlet, come towards him from barely three feat away. No way to parry that blade with his own, legs in the wrong position to evade.
At least it was him this time, at least he didn't have to watch. But Izzy had never been able to predict Stede Bonnet. He is pulled, from behind, a strong hand bunching in the back of his waistcoat and then he falls, down and to the side; away from the blade as he lands prone
the angle unnatural, never one that he would have taken instinctively, and he looks up to see the axe blade almost pass through nothing in his absence. It barely catches Stede at all really, the vertical stripe of blood from shoulder to belly couldn't have been more than half an
inch deep, and Izzy is already surging forward, not bothering to stand; grabbing a dagger and pinning the sailors foot to the deck, taking another to slash at his achilles, just to bring him down as soon as possible. He doesn't see Ed, as such, just sees a black shadow leap
over both his crouched body and Stede's now listless form, snarling and tearing at the larger man. Izzy concentrates on Stede. "Oh dear," Stede offers up weakly, dabbing a hand at his chest, white lace drawing blood into it like a sponge "that rather hurt" Izzy tears the fabric
away, letting out an inhuman sound of relief as it proves about as shallow as he'd thought. There was blood but this wasn't fatal. "It'll make a good scar, Stede" he gritted out through a tight smile, adrenaline singing as Ed joined him, face slack with relief when he saw the
the cut was shallow. "Oh, mate" the voice, even in the heat of battle now more Edward than Blackbeard, Ed put a hand on Stede's face, who leaned into it like a cat. He was so pale against the warm tone of Ed's skin "You worried me" Too pale, for that much blood.
No, there was blood. Izzy could see it now, spreading from beneath Stede, too much for that wound but absolutely there. "Ed-" Izzy wasn't sure how he managed to breath in enough air to speak, but he did, and his voice filled in the blanks as Ed looked away from Stede, saw what
Izzy was seeing. "Ah, well" Stede said akwardly, "I did feel a bit of a pinch" There's a dagger, embedded to the hilt, sticking out of his back, twisted where he'd fallen onto it; stuck it deeper and torn. On the right, where all the important organs are.
"You fucking idiot" Ed is scrambling already, pushes Izzy out of the way as he then just settles at Stede's side, shaking hand hovering over the dagger. They all know he can't take it out. "I mean it's better than a bullet to the head, surely dear?" Stede's voice is chipper,
but blood has started to bubble over his lip Izzy just stares. "Stede, I-" Ed's voice is cracking, losing any semblance of reasonining, and Bonnet actually shushes him; even as he slumps, falling back onto the dagger again, his last words punched out of him as Ed starts to howl
"I'm sure Izzy will work it out next time." every other word is punctuated by blood, as Ed's eyes snap to Izzy And then the day starts again
Clown Prince of Hubris

Clown Prince of Hubris

Diagnosed ADHD. Undiagnosed ASD. Also a secret third thing (Izzy Hands) 30 years of clownery, he/them and call me Ken 🔞🏴‍☠️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️
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