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Post by Sand on Jul 24, 2025 5:39:43 GMT -5
Ships and Scales PROMPT TWO.
We Who Were Meant to Sink: Drowned Hearts
"Their bond is forged in fury, sealed in salt."
- plot written by matchacrow 🌊 Setting: The Obsidian Ocean There are seas, and there are stories. But none are as feared or as fiercely avoided as the Obsidian Sea—a vast stretch of black water where time bends, ghost storms churn, and great sea-beasts prowl beneath. Sailors whisper that it is not an ocean, but a wound in the world—a tear left behind from a time before men and mermaids warred. Long ago, a pact was made to hold the tides at bay: a sacred agreement between the Pirate Kings of the Mortal Coast and the Sea-Born Court beneath the Abyss. This alliance kept the seas balanced, the storms sleeping, and the monsters chained in the dark trenches. But someone broke the pact. And now the sea wants blood. ⚓ The Story Begins: Captain Cassian Rook (played by MatchaCrow) is no stranger to death. Once a legendary privateer, now a war-hardened outlaw, he’s lost his fleet, his crew, and perhaps even his soul to the unforgiving tide. Desperate to cross the cursed expanse of the Obsidian Sea and reach the Isle of Echoes, he seeks a creature most fear to name: a mermaid who dwells among the wrecks of fallen ships, a relic of the pact long broken. He finds her: Ebba, cold-eyed and sharp-tongued, lurking in a graveyard of ruined hulls, draped in kelp and memory. She is the daughter of drowned royalty, exiled for crimes even her kind won’t speak of. When Cassian offers his soul for passage, she accepts.
But the sea twists the deal. Their souls become fused, connected by ancient abyssal magic. Now they share visions, feelings, and memories. When one bleeds, the other aches. When one dreams, the other watches. At first, it’s unbearable. He sees her rage, her loneliness, her violence. She feels his regret, his ambition, his ever-present hunger for revenge. But something stranger begins to grow in the ruins of their hate: intimacy, curiosity, and eventually—desire. Yet neither is what they seem. Cassian isn’t just sailing to escape—he’s seeking the Last Key of the Abyss, a relic Ebba is sworn to protect. Ebba isn’t helping him out of kindness—she’s under secret orders to kill the pirate who carries the storm’s blood… and Rook is that pirate. 💔 The Tension: As their bond deepens, both fight the pull of something far more dangerous than the sea: understanding. He dreams of drowning in her arms—but wakes breathless, gasping for answers. She feels human emotions for the first time—longing, guilt, the bitter edge of love… and the terror of betrayal. But the sea is watching. And if either of them dies, the other dies too. If one betrays the pact, they both drown. And worst of all, the Obsidian Sea is rising—flooding islands, devouring ships, and pulling them toward the Abyss where the final seal breaks. 💀 The Complication: The Pact’s Price
The soul-binding magic isn't just between Cassian and the mermaid—it begins awakening old gods who remember the original pact. Their whispers haunt the pair's dreams, offering cryptic warnings and cruel bargains. Breaking the pact requires blood: a life tied to both sea and storm. Guess who fits?
The Isle of Echoes Lies
The Isle of Echoes is supposed to be salvation, or at least a final crossing. But the island itself is sentient, shaped by memory and sorrow. The closer they get, the more the island begins mimicking their worst fears, trapping them in endless illusions. |
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Post by Sand on Jul 24, 2025 11:59:17 GMT -5
Characters Captain Cassian Rook “The sea takes everything eventually. You just have to decide what you’re willing to give up first.” Physical DescriptionCaptain Cassian Rook cuts a striking figure — the kind of man whose presence commands attention before he utters a single word. Standing at just over six feet tall, with a lean, sinewy build honed by years of conflict, survival, and harsh sea winds, he moves with a fluid precision born from both military discipline and piratical instinct. Every motion speaks of control, but not the polished grace of nobility—this is a man shaped by hardship, not privilege. Cassian's face is ruggedly handsome, the kind of weathered beauty that has only improved with age and adversity. His sharp cheekbones and strong jawline are softened slightly by the occasional stubble he rarely bothers to shave, and a thin scar runs diagonally from just below his right temple to his cheekbone—a pale reminder of a boarding skirmish long ago. His skin is sun-bronzed and salt-worn, evidence of a life spent beneath burning skies and storm-choked horizons. His eyes are perhaps his most arresting feature: stormy grey-blue, like the sea before a squall. They’re the eyes of a man who has seen too much and trusted too little. They reflect loss and longing, but also a dangerous cunning that flickers like lightning beneath calm waters. When Cassian fixes you with that stare, it feels less like you’re being looked at, and more like you’re being measured. His short, messy black hair is kept in a functional undercut, often tousled by sea wind and damp from salt spray. He rarely wears anything ornamental, but his clothes speak of a past life lived in command: a battered but finely tailored navy coat—faded blues and greys, with hints of gold embroidery now dulled and torn at the cuffs. Around his neck, he wears a simple leather cord with a silver coin threaded through it — a keepsake from his lost fleet, or perhaps something far more personal. Cassian bears the marks of war and survival across his body. Tattoos of nautical symbols, coordinates, and forgotten allegiances map his arms and torso, obscured by scars both clean and crude. Each one is a chapter in his story — a life once steeped in glory, now scarred by betrayal, grief, and vengeance. PersonalityCassian Rook is a man adrift—sailing the edge of the moral map where sea monsters and dead gods sleep. Once a renowned privateer, proud and idealistic, he fought with honor under a banner he believed in. But time, politics, and war shattered those illusions. Now, he lives by a harsher code: loyalty must be earned, trust is a luxury, and survival trumps pride. He is deeply intelligent and dangerously perceptive, with a strategic mind suited more to battlefields and blockades than politics or courts. Cassian speaks with a graveled voice and carefully chosen words, rarely wasting breath on pleasantries. He can be charismatic when needed—charming, even—but his charm is like a riptide: alluring but treacherous. He knows how to rally broken men, how to lead from the front, and how to make a knife in the dark feel like justice. Beneath the hardened exterior, there remains a flicker of the man he once was: someone who once dreamed of legacy and freedom, someone who laughed easily and loved fiercely. That man appears in rare moments — in the way he gently handles an old map, or the softness in his voice when speaking of his lost crew. But those glimpses are fleeting, quickly shuttered by cynicism and sorrow. Cassian is not cruel, but he is ruthless. He does what must be done and carries the weight of those choices without complaint. He doesn’t see himself as a hero or a villain — just a man doing what he must in a world that took too much and gave too little. He mistrusts idealists and despises tyrants, though deep down, part of him still longs for a cause worth dying for — or perhaps one worth living for. Despite all he’s endured, Cassian is not broken. He is tempered, like steel — harder, sharper, and more dangerous than before. Those who write him off as a drifting outlaw quickly discover the man beneath the scars is still a captain at heart: proud, formidable, and absolutely unyielding when the tide turns against him. this doesn't need to be included but i figured id put it down just because :: Core Traits Summary:Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, leaning toward anti-heroic Strengths: Tactical brilliance, leadership under pressure, high emotional intelligence (buried deep), loyalty to a fault for those he trusts Flaws: Deep mistrust, emotionally guarded, occasionally self-destructive, carries guilt like an anchor Core Values: Loyalty, autonomy, freedom from tyranny, honoring the memory of the fallen Greatest Fear: That everything he has done — all the sacrifices — ultimately meant nothing. Greatest Secret: He blames himself for the loss of his fleet — and perhaps he’s not wrong. Ebba - rp'd by Sand Physical Description:A sea dweller, Ebba knows the sea as if it were etched into her brain. She doesn't need a "map," she doesn't need anyone's help; the sea is hers. It's in her blood. Her tail is maroon red with a darker, deeper shine to it. The scales look like a never ending dark to pale red gradient. Her fins appear fragile and almost transparent. She has a fair, cool complexion. Ebba has dark brown eyes and a button-shaped nose. She has round, pale red lips. She had medium length hair which is black and reaches an inch or two above her shoulders. Since her exile, she tends to wear it up in a small, messy bun. Ebba usually wears a flowy, ruby red top that stops right above her stomach. The sleeves are thin and only cover a part of her forearms. The sleeves dangle from her long arms. Her nails are painted a wine red though the paint is chipping off easily. She wears a silver arm cuff which appears to be a wave. Personality & History:Cold eyed and sharp-tongued, Ebba is reluctant to accept help unless it benefits her. She was exiled from her former home, deep in the Obsidian Sea. A daughter of royalty, Ebba now faces a life in exile, crimes her kind refuse to speak of. Even the mentioning of her name can lead to consequences. So she dwells in a graveyard full of ruined hulls, kelp gripping onto her fins as if it cannot let go. Memories of her past life betray her, tempt her. She’s desperate and she knows it— she even looks like it. But is she truly desperate enough to risk herself? Ebba does not help others out of kindness. She has one goal that she plans on never speaking of, at least not to a living soul. Her job is simple, straightforward— to kill the unlucky pirate who stumbles upon her, looking for a relic that’s hers. She’s not looking to let him win so easily. If anyone is going to lose, it’s him. |
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Post by matchacrow on Jul 24, 2025 13:56:15 GMT -5
"They called me a captain. The sea called me something else."
interacting with No one The Stormcaller cut through the open waters like a ghost on borrowed time. Her sails strained against the growing winds, her hull groaned like something alive, and her wake left no foam—only ripples that quickly vanished into ink. Captain Cassian Rook stood at the helm, his gloved hands resting loose but ready on the wheel. His coat, sea-worn and battle-frayed, hung heavy on his shoulders. Cold wind tore at the edges, the salt crusting his collar. His short black hair was damp with sea spray, windswept into disarray, the undercut at his temples shorn unevenly from a knife and no mirror. His storm-grey eyes fixed forward, unblinking.
Ahead lay a horizon that didn’t move. It watched.
Behind him, his crew moved like men marching into a myth. Rell, first mate and iron-blooded to the bone, kept a firm hold on the mainsail rigging. Iven, the old navigator, stared at the spinning compass as though it had betrayed him personally. Mara, flame-haired and flint-hearted, cursed under her breath while checking powder stores, her voice just loud enough to ward off whatever spirits she imagined rode the wind. They were all seasoned hands. Some had fought under different flags, most had buried friends at sea. None had ever crossed the Obsidian Sea. But Cassian had convinced them. Promised them. Not gold, nor glory—answers. A path to a forgotten relic: the Last Key of the Abyss, hidden beyond the veil of reality where the sea turns black and screams are swallowed whole.
They reached the edge by dusk.
No stars overhead.
No moon.
Only the ink.
Cassian whispered something under his breath. A prayer, perhaps. Or a curse.
Then the wind died.
Not slowed—died. A silence fell so absolute it roared in their ears. The sails went slack, the ropes hung dead. And the water beneath... it didn't ripple. It held its breath. Rell looked up from the wheel. “Captain,” he said. “She’s stopped moving.” “We haven’t,” Cassian replied. “The sea’s still pulling. Look at the clouds.” Above them, the storm had begun to churn—slow, deliberate, and without thunder. Black clouds spiraled like ink in water. A shape emerged on the horizon. No land. No ship. A wall of storm, taller than any mast, deep as the ocean floor.
“Turn her!” Rell shouted. “We can’t—” “Hold.” Cassian didn’t raise his voice, but it cut. “We ride it through.”
“No one survives a maelstrom that size,” Mara snapped.
“I have no intention of surviving it,” he said, “unless we reach the other side.” Then came the first crack of lightning. It wasn’t white—it was green. Sickly. Silent. The bolt hit the water far off starboard and stayed there, frozen, a jagged spear of light piercing the sea. The wind screamed to life. The storm fell upon them like a beast loosed from its cage. The ship spun. Sails ripped like paper. Rain came in sideways, harder than steel. Rell fought the wheel until his hands bled. Iven was already lashed to the mast, shouting star positions that no longer mattered. Mara tried to fire a flare—something to anchor them to reality—but the powder fizzled in her soaked hand. Cassian clung to the helm, teeth bared, soaked through to the skin. “Hold, d-mn you,” he snarled—not at the ship, but the sea itself. “You’ve taken everything else. You won’t take this.”
But the sea does not bargain.
One by one, the waves came down. Towering. Endless. A mast cracked and fell, crushing three men. A beast’s shape—huge, eyeless—moved beneath the surface and shattered the keel of the longboat. Men were thrown screaming into the dark. Some vanished—no splash, no cry. Just gone. Cassian tried to shout orders, but his voice was lost to the roar. He saw Rell vanish over the railing, one arm outstretched, face contorted in rage or fear—it was too fast to tell. Mara’s gun belt floated past, empty. Iven clutched the compass to his chest until a wave took him. The Stormcaller, too, gave up her ghost. With one last groan, her spine split—cracked open like a hull of dry driftwood. The storm swallowed her whole.
Cassian hit the sea like a stone.
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WORD COUNT: 692
SONG: He's a Pirate - Pirate of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl Soundtrack
NOTES: none
TAG!: Sand |
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Post by Sand on Jul 24, 2025 15:51:38 GMT -5
Ebba interacting with: Cassian » location: obsidian sea Abandoned hulls, washed up parts of ships that Ebba didn't care to learn the name of were becoming stale to her. Sometimes, if she were unlucky, bodies would wash up near the shallow part of the sea. Kelp clung to her body like it was a second layer of skin. The sound of lightning crashed overhead and the storm was in full swing. Being deep in the water right now seemed like a safer idea than swimming near the shore. But what was there to do when one lives in exile?
With no one to go home to? Without a place to call home? Life was… complicated and she didn't want to talk or think about it.
As she swam, the clouds turned black, the lightning grew louder, and brighter. She noticed a ship, not far off in the distance, swaying against the violent waves as it began to swallow the ship whole without care. It was clear, wherever this boat was supposed to go, its trip would end horribly.
Against her better judgment, Ebba swam closer, her tail thumping against the endless waves. She could see humans— their bodies falling from the ship's deck and being thrown into the sea without mercy. In seconds, their bodies were washed away and forgotten by the Obsidian Sea. Her dark brown eyes widened, watching the ship split as it was quickly swallowed by the waves.
So much for them. How foolish can someone be to try and cross the Obsidian Sea?
Wasn't she just as stupid to swim near a ship? She dove underneath the water, but what Ebba saw was unexpected— a human, who must have come from the unwise ship. How was he not dead? How had he not been eaten and chewed up by the dark waves? He almost looked lifeless, but Ebba wondered— was he worth saving?
She wasn't foolish, but allowing someone to die like that… didn't sit right with her— for now. The black haired mermaid swam towards Cassian before swimming underneath him. She then came up before grasping onto his shoulders. Ebba kept her back against the current as it shifted furiously, taunting her as if it wanted her to lose her grip on the human.
Though the current started to die down, Ebba knew it wasn't safe to let go of Cassian just yet. She had found a large rock which jutted out of the ocean. With a heavy grunt, she struggled to pull Cassian away from the deep waters. If she just left him on the rock alone, he would be fine. He'd feel like shit, but he would be fine.
But something in her told her to stay.
With one last hard, determined heave, Ebba forced Cassian onto the rock. Good gods, she thought, panting as she finally took a seat besides the sailor. She hadn't even checked to see if he was dead. Was that important?
Maybe, maybe not.
"Hey, you okay there?" the mermaid said, poking Cassian's cheeks carefully. "Are you too far gone?" |
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Post by matchacrow on Jul 24, 2025 17:27:31 GMT -5
"They called me a captain. The sea called me something else."
interacting with Ebba Cassian stirred.
The first thing he felt was the cold.
Not the kind of cold that stings or bites. No, this was deeper. Heavy. It settled in his bones like lead, a numbing weight that blurred the edges of thought. He tasted salt, metal, and blood. Heard the low groan of the sea against the rock. Then—
A voice.
Soft, almost curious. "Hey, you okay there? Are you too far gone?"
He didn’t answer at first. Couldn’t. The world spun, and with it came jagged fragments—screams, a splintering mast, the surge of black water swallowing men and memories alike. The Sea Seraphine was gone. He knew that. The ship he'd bled for, lived on, died on—gone in minutes. Just like the rest of them. Cassian’s eyes cracked open. A face hovered over him—one that didn’t belong on any battlefield or ship. Dark eyes, darker hair, a gaze like deep water, and something older. Something that didn’t belong on land. He blinked once. Twice. “Gods,” he rasped, his voice gravel and ruin. “I’m dead, aren’t I?”
But death didn’t usually come with cheek-poking mermaids and rocks jabbing into your back.
He groaned, tried to sit up, and failed. Muscles refused to listen. His body was battered, lungs still thick with salt and near-drowning. And yet, something inside him refused to stay still. He wasn’t the type to die quietly on a rock, not even now. Cassian turned his head, taking her in more clearly this time. A mermaid. Real. Not just tavern stories or drunken sailors’ tales. She looked like she'd been carved out of storm clouds and shadows. Beautiful, but with a rough edge—something wild and watchful. He wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or terrified. “You pulled me out,” he muttered, brows drawing together. “Why?” His storm-colored eyes fixed on hers, searching, already calculating. This was no accident. The Obsidian Sea did not give up its prey—not unless it had something worse in store. Cassian wasn’t sure which one she was.
“You should’ve let me sink,” he said after a beat, half a breath, his voice lower now. Less weak. “Would’ve been easier.” But he knew better. Easy was never the path for men like him. Still flat on the rock, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, he gave a wry half-smile—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m Cassian Rook,” he added as if that name still carried weight. “Captain. Or I was.” Then, slower, with a dry chuckle that turned into a cough, “You got a name, or do I just thank the sea itself?”
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WORD COUNT: 430
SONG: The Archer - Lover [Taylor Swift]
NOTES: none
TAG!: Sand
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Post by Sand on Jul 25, 2025 18:03:38 GMT -5
Ebba interacting with: Cassian » location: obsidian sea It was rare when Ebba chose to help humans, even if it was in the slightest way with some deception involved. She hardly interacted with them before when she lived in her Kingdom, the one that she had called home and trusted with every bitter bone in her body. Maybe it was wrong to have put so much trust with the merfolk, but the same could be said of humans. She had heard plenty of stories, ones that were horror and ones that seemed barely believable. Ebba wasn't sure which story Cassian fit into just yet, but she was going to figure him out. The mermaid almost leapt into the sea when Cassian's eyes cracked open, revealing a pair of beautiful, stormy grey eyes. She let out a scoff, unsure how to take his comment. Did humans not know that mermaids were real? Were they really that naive? "You would be dead if I left you in the sea," she remarked pointedly, her dark thin brows furrowed in suspicion. Ebba knew she couldn't have saved Cassian's entire crew; that was unfeasible for a single mermaid. Had she have an army of her own kind, maybe the crew would have been saved, one by one. But she doubted it as the Obsidian Sea had an agenda of its own— and its intentions were to swallow each ship and its inhabitants one by one. Cassian, fortunately, was lucky not to be dead. She couldn't stop staring at him as her thoughts whirled around in her head. Something about this man was undeniably fascinating. Despite his rugged features, Ebba found him to be attractive though she wouldn't utter a word. Just observing him was enough to feed her intrigue. Her deep brown eyes met his stormy ones, fixated on him as she thought her response through. Why did the mermaid bother to save him, of all humans? Desperation for companionship? Did she actually have a kind, golden heart? She knew the answer and it wasn't one she was willing to share. "You were the only one left who I could save," she answered in a vague yet soft tone. "It seems like the rest of your crew are as good as gone.""Would have been easier."The Captain had a point— it would have been so much easier for her to swim past the destruction of the ship and the destined crew who wouldn't have made it past the storm. But something deep, longing inside of her told her otherwise and she had no way to explain it. At least not in a way that Cassian would understand. Hell, she didn't understand it that well either. All she knew was that Obsidian Sea called her name and Ebba followed swiftly as if she were at its beck and call. It was hers to protect and cherish; no man would ever get in the way of its protector. They would never get past her and, if they tried to, she would die trying to protect it. There was always worse, a monstrous outcome that no merfolk ever spoke of. Its truth was never spoken of, never revealed unless someone was worthy enough. "There's no such thing as easy," the mermaid said softly, feeling a smile pull at the edges of her lips. His wry half smile was unexpected, but warm. She stared at him with a blank expression, choosing her next words carefully. "Nice to meet you, Captain Cassian Rook," Ebba said, purposefully enunciating his title. She then held out her left hand, deciding that a handshake might be more friendly. She shot him a smirk before adding, "if you really want to, you can thank the sea, but wouldn't you prefer to thank me? My name is Ebba." |
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Post by matchacrow on Jul 25, 2025 18:34:38 GMT -5
"They called me a captain. The sea called me something else."
interacting with Ebba Cassian’s gaze lingered on Ebba, a complex storm of thoughts brewing beneath those stormy grey eyes. He wasn’t a man given easily to gratitude, especially not to creatures of legend and myth, yet something about this mermaid’s presence unsettled the steady rhythm of his guarded heart. It was rare for him to be caught off-guard, to meet a being who could match his silent calculation with something as sharp and unreadable as hers. He saw in Ebba not just a savior, but a puzzle, and a reminder that even the most hardened souls might find themselves adrift in unfamiliar tides.
He understood, deep in his bones, the weight of choices made at sea—those moments where survival demanded sacrifices that clawed at the edges of humanity. Ebba’s saving him was not an act of mercy but a calculated necessity, and yet, within that act was a rare flicker of something else—something almost like kinship. Cassian wasn’t blind to the bitterness she must carry, the fractured trust in both merfolk and men. He had worn similar scars, not just on his skin but buried deep in his soul. To be saved by a creature who held her grudges, who wrestled with her loyalties to a kingdom drowned in betrayal, spoke to the quiet desperation of two worlds crashing against each other.
His response—short, edged with a wry half-smile—carried all the weight of a man who had seen too many lose everything. “Would have been easier,” he said, not as a complaint but as an acknowledgment of the brutal truth that mercy is never easy, nor often earned. Cassian’s life had been forged in storms, in the relentless clash of ambition and loss. Yet in Ebba’s eyes, he caught a glimpse of the same restless spirit—the unwillingness to surrender to the dark tides without a fight.
When she offered her hand, the smirk she wore was a challenge wrapped in invitation. Cassian accepted it, the rough strength in his grip betraying none of the wary caution that defined him. To meet someone like Ebba—someone who could have let him drown but chose not to—was to confront the blurred line between enemy and ally, between predator and protector. His stormy eyes searched hers, weighing her truth against the legends he had been told, against the harsh realities he’d survived.
“Ebba,” he repeated softly, the name a promise as much as an introduction. In the depths of that moment, Cassian saw not just a mermaid guarding the Obsidian Sea, but a kindred soul shaped by loss and duty. The sea might take everything eventually, but for now, in the fragile space between shipwreck and salvation, Cassian Rook and Ebba stood tethered by fate—two souls adrift in a dark and unforgiving ocean, bound by secrets only the waves dared whisper.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - WORD COUNT: 464
SONG: Archer - Lover [Taylor Swift]
NOTES: kind of don't like this but it's all i got out of my brain.
TAG!: Sand |
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Post by Sand on Jul 28, 2025 16:41:04 GMT -5
Ebba interacting with: Cassian » location: obsidian sea As a mermaid, Ebba had never entertained the thought of befriending humans. She was told at a young age to keep to her own kind, the many merfolk who lived in her extravagant kingdom. The humans were not to be trusted according to her parents and the consequences for conversing with them? They were hurtful in several ways and yet she obeyed willingly despite the curiosity that ate at her. She had seen many humans before on ships, but ever since she was exiled from the kingdom, Ebba came across them frequently. Alive or dead, she kept her distance. But with Cassian, she was tempted to break boundaries that were long instilled in her. Living in exile meant desperation, it meant relearning how to live again but this time? She was on her own and she was sinking further and further. And the kingdom wasn't calling for Ebba again, they weren't begging for her to return— they wanted her gone for good. Her betrayal had gone a step too far, but was there remorse? Regret? The mermaid's attenation returned to Cassian, peering at him as he fixated on her and accepted her hand. She wondered what he was thinking about her. Had he already figured her out? Pirates weren't always simple-minded. The lives they lived were harsh yet daring. Much like her own at least as of late. Was Cassian one with the sea like her? Did he feel it pull at him and fight back when a deep, strong wave battered at his ship? Ebba pulled her hand away longingly with an alluring expression. It was time for her to take her leave if she wanted to avoid suspicion. She eased herself off of the dark colored rock and half of her body floated comfortably in the water. But a question lingered on her mind. "What was the name of your ship, Cassian? I suppose she meant a lot to you," the dark haired mermaid asked, curiosity burning in her brown eyes. 𓇼 tags & ooc: matchacrow / ahh, I’m sorry this post is crappy, let me know if you want me to add onto it! |
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Post by matchacrow on Jul 30, 2025 12:42:34 GMT -5
"They called me a captain. The sea called me something else."
interacting with Ebba
Cassian Rook had faced many things in his life—betrayal, mutiny, storms that tore ships in half, and gods that answered with silence—but he had never once believed he would speak with a mermaid. Not like this. Not with weight and silence hanging between them like the tension in a drawn bow. He watched as Ebba’s fingers slid from his palm, her skin cool, almost trembling, as if the sea itself whispered through her veins. There was something about her—an elegance tangled in ruin. She moved like someone used to power and unaccustomed to weakness. Cassian understood that look far too well. As she asked her question, the sea stilled. He could hear nothing but the rush of wind and the memory of creaking hulls deep beneath the waves.
What was the name of your ship, Cassian? I suppose she meant a lot to you.
Her voice lingered like salt on a wound. It wasn’t just curiosity—it was hunger. Not for blood, not for treasure, but for something she didn’t dare name aloud. He recognized it. Desperation had its language, and Ebba spoke it without trying. Cassian didn’t answer immediately. He stood at the edge of the rock she now slid away from, staring not at her, but at the dark horizon, where the water devoured the sky. He thought of the ship she’d named without knowing it—The Deliverance. A vessel that had carried more than just men across the sea. It had carried hope. And like everything else in his life, it had burned. He let the silence stretch between them, heavy as an anchor.
“The Deliverance,” he said at last, his voice like gravel dragged across a storm-wet deck. “She was my first command. My last. We built her from the bones of a wreck—salvaged iron, repurposed timber, stitched sails that still bore the flags of dead kingdoms. She was never beautiful. Not like the ships you see in storybooks. She was too stubborn for that. Too real.” His eyes narrowed slightly, storm-gray gaze shifting to the place where Ebba floated, her form half-submerged and glowing in the moonlight like a phantom. The sea lapped at her skin as if trying to take her back.
“She wasn’t just a ship. She was a rebel. We sailed against kings. Against fleets bigger and richer than ours. Against the gods, some would say. We carved our names into the tide and dared the world to forget us.” He paused, something cold flickering across his expression. “But the sea remembers. Always.” He stepped forward, boots grinding against the wet stone, and his hand hovered at the edge of his coat, where a patch of charred fabric remained—stitched into it, barely legible now, was a single word: Deliverance.
“She went down just beyond the Kraken’s Mouth. My crew is with her. Forty-two men and women who would’ve followed me into hell. Maybe I led them there.” There was no self-pity in his voice. No dramatic flare. Just truth—raw, undeniable. Cassian exhaled through his nose, slow and deliberate, and for a moment, his gaze softened. It was not the look of a pirate, nor a war-hardened captain—it was the look of a man remembering the sound of laughter between cannon fire, of salt-worn sails catching the wind for the first time.
“She meant everything,” he said finally, quieter now. “Not because of what she was. But because of who I was when I sailed her. And what I lost when she sank.” He looked at Ebba again, then really looked. The exile. The executioner. The sea-drenched shade in crimson and sorrow. Something was binding them already, even if the pact was yet unspoken. Her question had not been casual—it was a test, perhaps, or an invitation. And Cassian Rook, for all his jagged edges and storm-born pride, knew how to answer when the sea asked something true.
“She meant a lot to me,” he echoed her words, with the kind of weight that suggested Ebba might, too—if she dared. “But she wasn’t the last thing I lost.” He let the statement linger, unfinished, unsaid. Because some things are only meant to be known in silence.
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SONG: The Last Goodbye - The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies Soundtrack
NOTES: Oh no the reply was perfectly fine in my eyes C: I feel my reply is lacking tho. . .
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Post by Sand on Aug 2, 2025 10:04:18 GMT -5
Ebba interacting with: Cassian » location: obsidian sea Ebba's question was a test, one disguised under desperation and curiosity. She didn't have the patience to play a slow, daring game with Cassian— at least not right now. The moonlight loomed overhead, shining on her and the pirate as it if was giving them their own chance to collide, like ships in the sea. They weren't typical ships; they were enemies by the sea and they were meant to cross each other's paths. She didn't mind him discovering how desperate she was. It calmed her in such a bizarre way that even Ebba herself didn't understand it. Somehow, it made the mermaid feel the tiniest bit at ease to be seen. She was at the end of her rope and it was slipping out of her hands faster than she had expected. Her trembling, cool hands felt the callouses on his fingers, the lines on his palms that had his story embedded in them. His life, from beginning to the present; the many years he had spent on The Deliverance with forty-two men and women. Where they dueled against kings, rivals, the unknown, and the worst of them all— the sea. Ebba's dark brown eyes widened, tilting her head to one side. Finally, we're getting somewhere, she thought, feeling her maroon colored tail thump in the water. She was more at home in the water than she had been on the weathered rock. She leaned forward, clearly engrossed as Cassian spoke about The Deliverance. Had she known enough about ships, maybe she would understand what "wreck-salvaged iron" was; but it didn't matter. Ebba could imagine and discern from Cassian's description that The Deliverance was a beautiful yet restless ship. It was more than a ship, it reminded her of her kingdom and exile. It once sought a revolution much like a strong, unrelenting tide and washed her away with it. But the sea remembers. Always.Oh, Cassian didn't know the half of it. The Obsidian Sea remembered everything, even the littlest things possible. Its memory was stronger than hurricane, at least that's what Ebba believed. Just as the Kingdom had exiled her, so did the sea. Her dark gaze flickered to his hand which hovered over the edge of his coat. She couldn't read it, but it looked important— it was important to the Captain. Appalled by his words, Ebba knew that going into the Kraken's Mouth was asking to die by the sea. Not live by it, but die. It was sealing one's fate and that meant death for all that were involved. Her mouth gaped open before she covered it with one of her hands. He looked as if he was reliving the good times with The Deliverance for it was written all over his face. Ebba knew why pirates risked their lives for what laid beyond the Kraken's Mouth because it wasn't just "whatever"— it was a desired relic that pirates from all over the world traveled for. Yet none of them had accomplished a daring, challenging excursion. Most of them never made it back once beyond the Kraken's Mouth. It was sail or die and most found themselves facing the latter— death. Her eyes locked with his stormy grey eyes and something began to stir in her chest. She didn't know why, but it felt like silent grief and, at the same time, agony. Whatever Cassian had been through with The Deliverance, it was heavy, heart-wrenching. Little did she know it was tying them together. His last statement send chills down her back. What else had he lost? Ebba wouldn't dare ask him because it was better left alone, especially in a time like this. "… I've lost something special before, maybe it was like The Deliverance, but it wasn't all that I lost," the mermaid finally said, uncertain of what else to say. She could relate, but in strange ways; nothing that would make sense to the pirate. Being exiled for unspeakable actions. Losing her one and only home, that being a kingdom, with no where to turn to. She did not have a significant title, a proper place in the world anymore. It felt like she had fallen into the Kraken's Mouth and was spit out like she was pitiful, worthless. Ebba could relate to Cassian more than she knew, if only she could see it.
𓇼 tags: matchacrow 𓇼 ooc: your posts are amazing! I love how in depth you go with emotions, it pulls me right in. mine are a lot of thinking lmao. |
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Post by matchacrow on Aug 9, 2025 10:35:27 GMT -5
"They called me a captain. The sea called me something else."
interacting with Ebba
Cassian had heard countless voices whisper through salt-thick air—pleas, threats, songs of mourning and temptation—but none quite like hers. Ebba’s voice carried weight, not in volume, but in resonance. And her words now, simple as they were, lodged themselves somewhere in the hollows of his chest. He had expected the usual mermaid trickery—an echoing laugh, a flash of teeth behind a smile, or a disappearing tail gliding into darkness. But Ebba wasn’t trying to lure him. She wasn’t even trying to convince him of anything. She was just there, carved raw by circumstance, exiled by a kingdom, betrayed by her blood. He recognized that kind of displacement; it left marks you couldn’t always see. The kind that twisted into a person’s voice when they admitted, “I’ve lost something special before.”
Cassian looked at her then, really looked. The moonlight glossed her face with a sheen so fragile it seemed to shimmer like grief itself. Her maroon tail fanned slightly behind her, not in the rhythmic motion of a creature of the sea—but in hesitation. As if she weren’t sure whether to dive deeper or stay anchored here, with him. The sea knew her, but she no longer knew what she meant to it. His hand instinctively moved toward the coat again, hovering over that hidden thing—a map? A letter? A token of what was, what could’ve been? Whatever it was, it had been kept close, like a compass that no longer pointed north, only backward. It had survived storms, like he had. Or like they had.
Ebba wasn’t the only one asking questions that weren’t questions.
Cassian’s gaze lingered on her for a beat longer than intended, grey eyes flickering with storm-born memories of his own. The kind you drink to forget. The kind you whisper to the sea when no one's left to listen. What he’d lost wasn’t just a ship, just as what Ebba lost wasn’t just a kingdom. It was a purpose. It was a place. The Deliverance had once carved his name into the map of the world. Now, that same map felt like a tombstone. He could feel the sea around them, pulsing like a second heartbeat—ancient, unyielding. It heard everything they weren’t saying. It knew things no man or mermaid dared to admit aloud. And Cassian, seasoned captain though he was, suddenly felt very small in its presence. In her presence.
“She wasn’t just wood and sail, you know,” he said softly, breaking the silence between them, his voice rough but steady. “The Deliverance. She was defiant. My chance to flip fate the other way around.” His words weren’t meant to provoke pity. If anything, they were an offering. One shipwrecked soul reaching toward another, not expecting to be understood but needing to be witnessed. And in that moment, Cassian realized something—Ebba had seen more of him than most crew members ever had. Maybe it was her exile. Maybe it was her desperation. Or maybe it was the fact that she'd dared to listen, not out of manipulation, but out of shared mourning.
Ebba’s hand, still hovering near her lips, trembled slightly. A detail so subtle he might’ve missed it if he hadn’t been watching so closely. But Cassian noticed. And something about it struck him harder than any storm or cannon blast. She wasn’t just desperate—she was lonely. Not the loneliness that came from being physically alone, but the kind that came from being misunderstood for so long you started to believe the lies they told about you.
He leaned forward, just slightly. Enough to close the invisible chasm between land and sea. “You’re not the only one who’s been spit out,” he said, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The sea takes its pound of flesh from all of us. The trick is… figuring out what’s left after.” It wasn’t an answer, not to her question, not to the test hidden inside it. But it was something. A middle ground between confession and understanding. Between captain and mermaid. Between exiles.
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WORD COUNT: 672 NOTES: Ahh thank you so much!! That means a lot 🥹💙 And honestly, I love how introspective your writing is — it makes Ebba feel so real and layered. |
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Post by Sand on Aug 14, 2025 11:16:05 GMT -5
Ebba interacting with: Cassian » location: obsidian sea Ebba's heart twisted inside her chest, tightening at the thought of her former kingdom, a home that she could no longer call home. She wondered if Cassian felt something when she admitted something heavy yet seemingly simple to him. Her throat felt dry and she could only stare at him with an empty, lonely gaze. Her instinct was to leave now before she felt something more with this human. Before she shared things that she shouldn't and everything would be fine if she left. But she was reluctant for a few reasons. The sea had spat her out like trash, as if she were the trash. If the sea wanted nothing to do with her, where was she supposed to go? It wasn't like she was going to stay with Cassian for long. He would be gone forever at some point, whether he liked it or not. She just needed to play this right and get it over with. Her plans weren't the best, but at least it gave her an intent. All she needed was the smallest purpose and Ebba could get the job done. She wasn't sure what would come next, let alone in the next few moments. It was a job of opportunity, nothing more, nothing less. Her attention was drawn back to the captain, noticing he had been looking at her intensely for longer than she expected. Her dark brown eyes fixated on his stormy grey ones, temptation stirring in her. His eyes told her more than she wished to know though at the same time, she wanted to pry for information. To know what lurked behind his stormy gaze and devour his memories like they were prey. Ebba's gaze flickered to his hand over the edge of his coat, pursing her maroon painted lips together. The Deliverance held memories much like Cassian's eyes did. He has lost as much as she did; a home, a place that held purpose and need. It made them feel determined and comfortable. But now, neither of them had any of that. Their hearts were hollow and Ebba was looking for something to fill it. She pondered if Cassian was looking for the same. The mermaid was grateful that the silence had been broken. The rugged sound of his voice which came across as soft was captivating. It seemed to Ebba that the Deliverance meant a whole lot to the captain and that in some way, he understood her loss because it was like his. "Maybe she has let you flip fate around in a way you didn't expect," Ebba said gently, not trying to imply something; Cassian could decide if he believed her or not. Though Ebba had known plenty of merfolk in her ex kingdom, she had never felt such a connection with someone before. If anything, those that she had trusted and worshiped had convinced her that the lies about her were true. It was true that she deserved exile and it was true she deserved to be lonely. It was appropriate that she was to never return home because she did something bad which she had caused. A plot to ruin the kingdom and expose its corruption, not only that of her mother's but her father's too. As he leaned forward slightly, her dark brown eyes widened with expectation. She wanted to lean in further as the temptation to do so dug its nails into her tail. Cassian was right, but a question lingered on her tongue. What was next for her, for him? All she could imagine was emptiness though the captain was like a beacon of light. Maybe he was the answer yet that seemed absurd and immoral of her to think that way. It could be something else, but nothing shined like Cassian did. It didn't spark a flame in her like he did. "How would you suggest we— or I— figure out what's left after?" Ebba asked, lowering her tone as she gazed at Cassian. "It wasn't often that I had to figure things out, at least not things this big. But, Cassian, what will you do?"
𓇼 tags: matchacrow 𓇼 ooc: ;-; <3 you're so kind and I appreciate that a lot! thank you <3. I hope you've been having a good week. |
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Post by matchacrow on Aug 16, 2025 9:09:48 GMT -5
"They called me a captain. The sea called me something else."
interacting with Ebba
Cassian didn’t answer immediately.
He stood still on the flat rock like he’d been carved from it, as if the sea wind couldn’t move him, as if time itself was giving him space to think. The horizon behind him was turning molten with dusk, the dying sun stretching its fire across the waves in long orange ribbons. The gulls had grown quiet. Even the sea seemed to hush. The weight of Ebba’s words hung heavy between them, like salt in the air before a storm. His eyes, those storm-gray tempests, didn’t leave her face—not for a second. He studied her like a man might study the stars, searching for signs in a sky too vast to understand. Whatever softness he may have had a moment ago was veiled now behind the calculating stillness of someone who’s seen too much and lost more than he ever said aloud.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough around the edges if it had scraped against too many memories before reaching his tongue. “I think…” He exhaled slowly, turning his gaze toward the horizon, toward where the sea met the sky like a closing wound. “...you don’t figure it out. Not all at once. Not clean.” He crouched slightly, fingers grazing the surface of the stone, as if grounding himself to it. “You carry it, piece by piece. Some days you set it down, some days it nearly buries you. But either way, you keep moving. Not because you know where you’re going… but because if you don’t, the weight becomes all you are.”
He glanced back at her then, and in that moment, there was something raw in his expression—unguarded, not gentle, but real. “I used to think if I could just fix one thing—take back one betrayal, save one soul, win one battle—it would matter. That it would make the rest of it worth something.” A bitter twitch at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile. “But fixing isn’t always an option. So now I build. Slowly. From what’s left.” He straightened, the sea breeze tugging at the edges of his coat as he approached her. He didn’t touch her, didn’t come too close—but close enough that she could feel the tension in the air between them, alive and sharp.
“As for me?” His voice dropped a fraction, quieter now. “I’ll keep the Deliverance afloat. I’ll keep my crew alive. Maybe that’s all there is, for now. Maybe that’s enough.” A pause. “But you?” His eyes locked with hers again, more intense now. “You’re not done. You’ve been thrown to the rocks, sure. But you didn’t break, Ebba. You’re here. Still thinking. Still feeling. That means you still get to choose.” He shifted his stance slightly, one hand at the worn edge of his coat, his other resting on the hilt of a blade that had known both justice and vengeance. “You don’t owe the sea anything. Not your silence. Not your sorrow. Not even your exile. You can’t go back, no. But forward? That’s still yours.”
Another beat of quiet passed between them, filled only by the faint lap of water on stone. “Whatever you decide to do,” he added, voice like gravel beneath velvet, “do it because you choose it. Not because fate shoved it in your lap.” Then, almost softer—softer than she expected a man like him to speak: “And if you need time… or a ship to take it on… the Deliverance doesn’t ask questions. Not unless you want her to.” Cassian didn’t look away this time. He let the truth settle in the open air between them. There was no offer of rescue, no promise of redemption. Just an open path—and a man willing to walk beside her, for however long she let him. “You asked what comes next?” he murmured, glancing back toward the sea. “We survive. And then… we see.”
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WORD COUNT: 650 NOTES: kinda iffy about this reply ;x; |
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