03/06/2022 11:48 PM  The Warning Current mood:  accomplished The Warning   Video: “I Will Not Bow” By: Breaking Benjamin __________________________________ Aboard the Krisselex, a mutiny is afoot. One man takes charge of the small unsatisfied group and accepts Tempest’s challenge for battle. The skies grow dim behind the Sea of Mirrors this day, for it will have it’s first drops of human blood spilled into its virgin waters. *************************** “Come, now. We’re barely starting.” Tempest started to tease him the minute that Parkar began to tease back. It was an exchange blows, dodges and landed strikes until Parkar managed to grab a hold of Tempest by the throat. Finally, there was a landed hit that took a significant amount of damage; and Parkar earned it. He throttled Tempest like a rag doll and slammed him face-first against the post behind them both. Needless to say, this did knock Tempest a bit dizzy. He knew that he would be taking a harsh beating if even at least one hit would land on him. He was moved around and put on display of his gruesome wound then. Blood dripped down his forehead and from his busted nose and lip. The blood was quite an amount of damage. Slowly, he started to wince with a smile and his hands raised up to the man’s wrist. “…I’ve been… hit harder by… children. Is that really your best? I must have hired you on an off-day.” But Parkar was squeezing him and quickly beginning to spout his filth once more. All that Tempest knew was that he needed to get out of there and fast. The longer that he stayed in that chokehold, the more likely that he was going to be killed. One thing was certain, though, Parkar already messed up by stating that he was going to take away the women from Tempest. Hell. They were not spoils for the crew. They were HIS. Of course, the gleam of red shinned over his skin by then due to his lip being busted open, but it was beginning to pulse around him. So, he was motivated in the only manner that he knew how—thanks to Raid—by kicking the man right in the balls. No man could withstand that, no matter how tall or muscular that he was. Besides…the message was clear enough… Parkar hollered and his grip finally began to loosen. It was just enough for Tempest to snake his grip around Parker’s pinky finger and started to push it back. Even when Parkar started to back away and coil into a ball—if he only could—Tempest still bent Parkar’s pinky finger even further back, as must as he could. Then, with a violent push of Vince’s added strength in the matter, Tempest broke Parkar’s pinky. While Parkar rolled to the ground, Tempest kicked him in the ribs as hard as he could and then went to stomping all of his weight down against the man’s adam’s apple. This at least slowed him down a bit and gave Tempest the chance to keep moving. Tempest coughed some and spat out blood while he bent down to pick up a heavy cannonball. “I do feel that I have won.” He announced grimly. Slowly, his voice began to carry its duel tone once he started to bend down. “And now… Your punishment.” The minute that Tempest slammed the cannonball onto Parkar’s head, there was the sound of an awful “crunch” and the giant man hollering. Parkar quickly reached for his head to cover with his hands, but it didn’t matter to Tempest, he just raised the cannonball and crashed it down onto the man again. By the time he reached into the third swing, the nearly full grown qunari-built pirate could only holler and cough on his own blood. A hushed silence while Tempest began to raise the cannonball once more. “That’s enough, Captain!” Briggs shouted with his blade still pressed to Raid as a deadly threat. “We were agreeing on no magic.” Tempest looked to him and his blue eyes glowed with anger. He tilted his head like the possessed being that he was and his voice started to seethe behind tightly clenched teeth. “I have not been using any magic… And you were not part of the agreement. Let me show you the difference.” With just a look alone, he forced Briggs to lower the blade. Briggs snarled and struggled but no matter how he tried to fight it, Tempest’s bloodmagic controlled his mind well enough to turn the blade upon himself. “Argh!—F*** you! Fuc—” Briggs started to say just before he slit his own throat. The gash was deep and like a fountain of wine, his blood sprayed and dosed all over Tempest. Drenched; soaked in the blood of one of his betrayers and collected flesh and bits bone at his fingertips, Tempest felt his injuries starting to heal instantly. His laugh mingled with the demon’s dwelling within him and he raised his hand towards the others who called for the mutiny. One by one, each sailor that notably threatened him, started to raise their weapons and committed some form of mutilation upon themselves. Seaweed crawled up from the sides of the ship, stabbing into the chests of the men who all he noted previously that even thought of mutiny. Tempest didn’t have plans to kill them yet, so they stayed struggling and writhing in pain while their damaged limbs dangled in the air and their weapons dropped to the floor. “You see the difference?” Tempest laughed in his duel voice, and took the cannonball back down to crashing over the giant’s head, beneath him once more.“Time you were reminded who you’re dealing with.” Again, he slammed down the cannonball down. Then repeatedly while the hollers turned louder and gurgling with the sounds of bone and sinew. Faster, he slammed down the cannonball and faster still. Finally, the man beneath him stopped shouting altogether. Parkar’s legs stopped shaking and he was at last, finally, still. Tempest dropped the cannonball to his feet and started to stand. The blood that soaked him made the hallows of his eyes even more fearsome than they already were. Tempest wiped his face from the blood – a useless move, since the stain of blood still stained even his hands. He was so far drenched by the sight and smell of it that it hardly even looked like he had skin at all. He as just a huge mashup of flesh and shadows. “I secure trade routes for the Obsidian Isles. I navigate us through enchanted waters where no man has ever touched! I find ships ripe for the taking and glory to be had in battle!” Tempest hollered and seethed as though a dragon had roared from deep in his chest. The demonic voice echoed from every word while his body bathed in dark smoke and blood. “I make you Kings! I bring you treasures! Every gold piece, you take for your own. Those women are MY treasure!! And if anyone is to think or speak otherwise will be keelhauled from sunrise to sundown!” Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

03/01/2022 11:55 PM  Ten Track Tuesday ~ Tempest's Playlist Current mood:  accomplished Tempest’s Playlist   Video: “You’re Only Second Rate” By: Jonathan Young __________________________________ Just a few songs I listen to in order to stay in character. Essentially, this is his playlist. ^_^ ***************************   Song: Maybe I By: Des Rocs   Song: Providence By: Poor Man’s Poison   Song: Drink Me By: Michael Morrone   Song: Hunt By: Rise Up Dead Man   Song: The Humbling River By: Puscifer   Song: Man or a Monster ft. Zayne Wolf By: Sam Tennesze ft. Zayne Wolf   Song: Sexyback By: Justin Timberlake ft. Timbaland   Song: Scars By: Boy Epic   Song: Coming Undone By: Eric Zayne   Song: Lie By: Black Light Burns Bonus:   Signature Song: No Good By: KALEO Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

02/20/2022 11:59 PM  Conversation Issues (Raid Reply) Current mood:  adventurous Conversation Issues (Raid Reply)   Video: “I Don’t Want To Fall In Love” By: She Wants Revenge __________________________________ Just another moment opposite are just too opposite. *************************** Tempest felt it best not to get into the argument about whether or not Anna belonged to him --at least not now. Raid was already angry with him and Tempest knew that he was already pushing certain buttons but being the glutton for punishment that he was, he just couldn’t help himself. Besides, if he could not keep her attention in one form, he was happy to keep it in others. This proved even more-so when Raid practically prevented Tempest from answering her first questions at all, by squeezing his hand exceptionally hard and shouting at him. Naturally, he yelped in surprise and fell back against the wall behind him. He shook his hand and looked at it disbelief from what kind of grip that she had. “Bloody hell, that hurt…” He winced and then looked back at Raid with sheer excitement as he started to straighten and stand. “You’re so f***ing sexy; do it again!” Of course his skin was practically tingling all over when she glared down at him with such anger. His heart raced in anticipation. His body was practically tight and muscles flexed in preparation from anything short of a hard slap to the face or a possible punch in the stomach. However, she didn’t follow through; but merely reached out to hold his chin and Tempest toyed with the image of an eagerly naughty sub by lifting his chin out more proudly for her to hold. He blinked whenever Raid continued to chew him out and he started to grin. “I told you… I was digging up dirt on him and I was using Anders to keep him in one spot.” He said and his grin slightly faltered to his next thought. “—And it is true, aye. He practically confirmed who and what he was over our brief discussion in the torture chamber. Some Magisters can be bad… but the Venatori are worse. I knew you wished to stay with Anders and I had a plan to execute. I don’t have any real quarrel with Anders or even Alexander, personally, but I know Alexander will not hesitate to kill me –especially now--- so I must learn what he knows and I must defend myself.” Her demands for answers left his body to slowly relax in some feigned disappointment. Where he was expecting another strike or possibly even a smack at his genitals, she was already at the point of calming down. It was just not that much of a ‘game’ as Tempest saw it as meant to excite him; and while he knew this, he still found disappointment that she would rather still just --- talk. The lust and excitement still glittered in his eyes but not nearly as brightly as before. Tempest wet his lips and did all that he could to ignore the hard-on that showed its bulge to his full girth. This was nearly the same sexual torture as he was prepared to have done to Raid, except Raid was not intentionally even trying. That was hot… “You know of what happened to me as a child… It was not just my parents but an entire cult. A sub-sect of the Venatori.” He finally admitted. “Alexander knows their names...and I will have my vengeance.” Tempest watched then as Raid released him and stepped away, adding more ice to the roaring coals in his loins. He sighed heavily and looked towards Anna, who was certainly more frightened than before seeing this, that her aura of uncontrolled magic crackled and hissed at the bracers she was wearing. Hearing Raid’s decision involving her, Tempest was quick to groan in disapproval. “Why is it that Fereldens all just want to go to… Ferelden?” He wined and practically rolled his eyes before looking back to Raid. “Fine. If that’s what she wants, I will make arrangements and do what I can to keep Alexander from her. Which was the original plan…for the most part… We will have to devise an escape for you that will keep Alexander from thinking of harming you for answers, though… And he will harm you, if he thinks its worth the risk in getting what he wants.” Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

02/18/2022 04:53 PM  The Pirate Takes a Bride Pt.4 Current mood:  accomplished The Pirate Takes a Bride Part 4   Video: “Aequilibrium. Medieval tune. Hurdy-Gurdy with Organ.” By: Andrey Vinogradov __________________________________ Part 4--- When Tempest makes his fourth significant seize, he takes Alexander’s promised fiancée aboard his ship. This may develop into a few more written pieces and/or be incorporated into other storylines to see where it can go. *************************** Tempest didn’t know why it bothered him so that she was so quick to judge him. Before he’d left his cradle, he’d learned to ignore the biting epitaphs people gave him, and as years passed to even enjoy them. It was just that she wasn’t applying the correct epitaph, or maybe it was just one that he disagreed with. She saw him only as a pirate when he wanted her to see him as … well, as a lover – a distraction from her otherwise miserable existence. Women adored him. They had always done so, and Tempest had learned to expect women to pander to his whims and moods. There were very few women who had ever refused him so harshly and most of those women had justifiable reasons to do so. However, Anna… She was different. There was absolutely no reason for her to turn him away so bitterly and so cold. Her resistance to him was more than just token. More than just annoying. It was challenging. And Captain Tempest Darkwater loved a good challenge, so long as it didn’t go on for too long. However, much longer from Anna was far longer than wanted. He would either have to decide to truly try in breeching those prickly defenses of hers and claim her quickly or drink himself into a stupor to forget any attempt at all. They crossed the small corridor and he knocked thrice upon a door. Drawing her brows together, Anna took a step back in trepidation. “Who’s in there?” She asked. Tempest decided to play up the moment. “No one.” “Then why did you knock?” She looked at him curiously, and he bent down until his face was level with hers. “I’m scaring off the ghosts so they will not bother you while you sleep.” He whispered in a dire tone. “Do you believe in ghosts, lass? They certainly believe in you.” He savored the confusion on her face, then pulled a lantern from its holder in the hallway. He pressed his back against the door, then opened it and walked backward into the room so that he could watch her face. With every step backward that illuminated the room, Anna’s face turned a shade paler. Victory. Sweet, pleasurable victory was almost his. Tempest could taste it ---or more to the point, he could almost taste her. Her gaze darted around the room from one grisly totem to the next. “What are those?” “Heads.” He said simply, as he glanced around the walls which were covered with approximately thirty dark brown heads in various states of contortions. “Shrunken heads to be precise. We picked them up some time ago from an island of headhunters.” As though it wasn’t thought possible, but Anna actually turned a shade paler than before. “A-An island of—(gulp)—what?” “Headhunters. They kill enemies and foreigners and shrink their heads.” Tempest answered precisely. Anna’s face incredulous as she narrowed her gaze on Tempest then. “They didn’t shrink yours.” Tempest acquiesced. “True, but it’s only because I was more ruthless than the chief and his men.” “Why do you have all these heads?” Anna questioned dubiously. Tempest set the lantern down on the dust covered trunk beside the bed before he looked up and again locked gazes with her. “We were burying a load of treasure on a remote, uncharted island when we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by island natives.” It was a complete lie. First, Tempest has never in his life buried treasure. He preferred to make investments with his ill-gotten gains. And secondly, the heads had been taken from a Nevarran merchant off the Imperial Highway. They had never even seen the sea until they were aboard Tempest’s ship. Tempest’s crew had decided to hang them in here to scare prisoners into divulging secrets, and sometimes they were used as a signal to other ships of Tempest’s brutality. They would attach an arrow to one of the heads and fire it at the opposing ship’s crow’s nest. He stood beside Anna and cloaked his voice in a fearsome whisper. “Naked savages they were, screaming and trying to kill us with long, fearsome spears. But it didn’t take much to turn the tables on them. A few slashes of me sword and gunpowder-packed grenades and we whipped their butts good.” Suspicion clouded Anna’s eyes and Tempest realized that he was heaping it on a bit too thick. Retreating before he undid himself, he finished the story. “After we had routed them, the chief offered the heads to me, provided I spare his life and leave his island. He swore that if I decorated my ship with them I would never know defeat.” Anna caught her lower lip between her teeth as she again dragged her gaze around the room. No doubt the idea of sleeping in Tempest’s cabin was starting to appeal to Miss Amell. Feeling impish, Tempest grabbed one of the dark grisly totems from the wall and held it out towards her. “Would you like a closer look?” With a squeak, Anna jumped back into the hallway. Tempest smiled at her reaction. “It won’t hurt you, really. They are quite dead, after all.” She curled her lip at him then. “You’re disgusting.” “Perhaps.” Tempest tossed the head in his hand and caught a couple of times. “But not nearly as disgusting as this room….hmmm?” Bravely, Anna stood ramrod stiff, like a queen about to address her court. She raked him with a sneer before she spoke. “I would rather spend eternity in this room than five more minutes in your company.” Tempest paused in playing ‘catch’ and cocked an eyebrow at her. Had she really said that? To him. To Smooth Tempest Darkwater, the greatest lover on the high seas? No woman had ever said such to him before! His male pride offended, he stared at her in disbelief. “…You would truly rather spend the night in here than in the comfort of my cabin?” She answered without hesitation. “Your cabin will be quite acceptable provided you’re not in it.” “And if I were?” He asked. “Then I say make room amongst the missing heads.” Anna said with a sweep of her arm and then folded both in front of herself. “There shall be a new member of their group tonight.” Now, this was wholly unexpected. Tempest had mistakenly assumed that one look in this room would send the sheltered sweet mage fleeing straight into his arms for safety. No woman had ever, ever been this reluctant to ward him before. He was, after all, a man of renowned looks. Not that he was vain about his appearance---well, to overly so. Of course, there was the matter of his reputation, which at times was more than well deserved, but women in the past had found even that appealing. In fact, the allure of having a dangerous man in their bed had thawed many women’s frigidity. Anna was bluffing, he decided. She must be. After returning the head in his hand to the wall, he approached Anna, who stood warily in the doorway. “So then, you’d rather lie down with all these men here, than with me?” Unflinchingly, she met his gaze. “As you said earlier, they are quite dead while you—” “Are quite alive. Aye.” Tempest interjected. “Then I suppose, the question is, whom do you fear more? Them or me?” “’Tis not a question of fear, sir.” She spoke with her head high. “’Tis simply a question of preference. I prefer their loathsome company to yours.” Impulsively, he reached out and stroked the soft underside of her exposed chin with his knuckle. She veiled her gaze, but even so he knew that his gentle touch affected her. How could it not? His voice turned just as soft; just as tempting. “And do you truly find my company loathsome?” “I find your company despicable.” She quipped. “Despicable am I?” He said, greatly amused. “’Tis a pity then. I find you captivating.” She stepped away from him. “And I find myself captive, which I believe is the very core of our differences. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I feel the need for solitude.” “Solitude? Why, my dear, I believe you’ll have an army of guests to keep you company tonight while you sleep!” He gestured to the heads and watched her shudder. “It’s not too late to change your mind.” “About you?” Anna flinched and glared at him. “I’ll never change my mind about you, Captain Tempest Darkwater, Scourge of the Sea!” He tilted his head curiously as if his own title were meant to offend him. “A fickle and changeful thing is woman ever.” “A faithless and dreadful thing is man ever.” Anna scoffed back. "Does that include Alexander?” Tempest asked. “Not hardly.” She turned her head away from him. “Ah. Just as I thought. He’s not a man after all.” Tempest quipped back and pondered openly, unable to keep from rising her fire at him. “I’d imagine that Jowan would be even less so.” Her cheeks darkened in anger then; straight out furiously. She seethed behind clenched teeth at him. “Here is the door, and there is the way through it. Now… Use it.” Tempest bowed before her with a flourish. “Ever as you wish. I shall leave you to your new friends. But should you change your mind, you’ll find my cabin at the end of the hallway. You won’t even have to knock.” “Don’t wait up.” She scoffed once more. “Fine then. Just make yourself at home.” Tempest shrugged. “I shall!” She raised her voice. “Splendid!” He raised his. “Superb!” She hollered louder and marched after him. “Excell—” He started to retort but Anna slammed the door in his face. Of course, when she slammed the door a few of the shrunken heads toppled on top of her and Anna screamed. Concerned, Tempest opened the door quickly and looked to find that she was covered in some of the heads. “Anna--?” He started to question, but Anna was furious and too frightened to deal with him. She was whiter than a sheet and quickly throwing the shrunken heads back at him in amidst of her fit. “Get out! Get out, get out, GET OUT!” Tempest dodged the heads only by quickly closing the door once more. He huffed and smoothed the wrinkles of his shirt back down. “Alright, alright…. I’ll send for your things in the morning then, …I guess.” He turned away and shook his head. This was ridiculous and still simultaneously fun. Anna proved to be a crafty one. High-spirited and delightful to a fault. Her resistance merely added to the satisfaction Tempest would gain from her surrender. It would be his greatest revenge and his greatest triumph. In spite of what she thought, he would have her. After all, he’d never in his life known defeat, to when he wanted something or someone. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

02/16/2022 09:37 PM  The Pirate Takes a Bride Pt.3 Current mood:  adored The Pirate Takes a Bride Part 3   Video: “Kinda I Want To" By: Nine Inch Nails __________________________________ Part 3--- When Tempest makes his fourth significant seize, he takes Alexander’s promised fiancée aboard his ship. This may develop into a few more written pieces and/or be incorporated into other storylines to see where it can go. *************************** It was a dreadful and narrow escape. Tempest knew his ship took that final hit when he jack-knifed the boat. He had little choice in the matter when Starkhaven’s finest raced hot on his tail and paired up with the Magister’s ship. He was outnumbered and outgunned this time. But where the cannonball grazed The Krisselex left an more frightening thought to haunt him. Without though of the Starkhaven ship or the Magister’s vessel, Tempest ran for the ladder to the lower decks. He called for Tarik to join him in his search and to assess the damage. He skidded down the ladder without touching a rung, then dashed down the narrow corridor at top speed. Their panic seemed to feed off each other as they raced toward the cabin where Anna stayed. His heart pounding in terror, Tempest was already thinking of just what would await behind her nearly splintered door. He pushed it open quickly, expecting the worst and only to find….Anna huddled in a corner. She was holding her arms in fright from the passing sounds of the cannons’ fire fading in the distance, but she was still intact – that was the most important thing. “I can’t believe it was a cannonball.” Anna shook her head in shock. Her eyes still stared where the cannonball had managed to graze a hefty portion of his ship. It, along with the broken windows, was an ugly scar to be shown—but otherwise, fully reparable. Tempest and Anna both were very fortunate that the cannonball didn’t actually land. However, against two ships, luck was not entirely always at his side. “It shredded the wall!” Tarik exclaimed with wide eyes. To Tempest’s surprise, Anna rushed towards him and almost clung to him until her shakes finally stopped. Her soft fingers slid against the flesh of his neck to cause a chill as she clutched the material of his shirt and pulled that grasp into her fist. Pulling him down until his nose almost touched hers, she whispered to him. “Have you ever had a cannonball come so close to you that you could see the maker’s symbol?” His eyes lifted from the bridge of her nose and looked into her blue eyes. “Actually, I have.” Her expression turned from shock to anger within a millisecond, and her hand pushed him away upon releasing him. “Fine then! You stay here. I’m going home.” “There’s just one problem, lass.” Tempest admitted and waited until she paused in her anger to glare at him. “…The only way home is back through Starkhaven’s naval fleet, and –sorry to say—I’m not risking life and limb just to put you back on their docks.” That flash of anger in her eyes soon turned to malice when she glared at him. “I hate you, Tempest Darkwater. I really, really hate you!” Tempest just smiled, too amused and too relieved with seeing that she was even still alive, to take her words to heart. He turned slowly and began to look more towards the splintered wood. “As long as I provoke some strong emotion from you, I can’t complain. T’is apathy I fear, not hatred.” Anna balled her fists up at her sides, which seemed to only delight him all the more. “Is it over? Are we through being cannon fodder?” “Aye. The winds picked up and the main sail caught it long before the other ships did.” Tempest answered, rather proud of his naval skills. “Where are you going to put the Lady now that her room is destroyed?” Tarik asked while looking at the fallen and shattered pieces of furniture and broken glass. Tempest certainly knew where he wanted to put Anna. His own bed with him in it. Now, that would have been a truly pleasurable voyage. His entire body burned at just the thought. His head clawed with vision s to it just barely scratching the surface of his thoughts. Of course, his demon would taunt him in such ways. There was no doubt in his mind or body to how attracted that he was to her, and her seduction would prove easy enough---if he could just get her to his room. However, that would not be easy… Then an evil thought struck him. There was one place he could put her that would guarantee she would go running to his room for protection. One place that would be even more horrendous to a woman of such delicate breeding and sensibilities than staying in a pirate’s private cabin. “The room across the hall.” Tempest answered with the room in still in his mind. “You can’t be thinking of doing that.” Tarik asked in shock when he looked at his Captain. The sudden concern seemed even more urgent than before. “How’s she going to sleep with all those…things in there? Do you want her to have nightmares forever She’ll take one look and run for the door.” That was the idea; but Tempest didn’t dare tell Tarik that. Instead, he feigned deep thought and started to use logic to sway his crewmate to his side. “There’s no place else to put her… Unless… She’s willing to share mycabin.” Tempest slanted a hopeful glance toward Anna and noted her stiffened posture. That seemed to be a visual ‘no’ without a doubt. He gave a forlorn sigh and continued. “I doubt she’d agree to that.” “The room across the hall will be quite fine.” Anna confirmed his prediction rather well. Tarik folded his arms across his chest and frowned to this. “She’s only saying that because she’s yet to see what’s waiting for her in that room. You’re being cruel, Captain. Remember, such dreadful things come back to you tenfold.” “I hear your warning, Tarik. Now, you better head back to our quartermaster and report to him the rest of the damage.” Tempest acknowledged and motioned towards the door for him to leave. That left Tarik with little say other than a quick lowering of his head. He turned and took his leave with the door closing behind him. That left Tempest to watch the fury in Anna’s eyes change to concern as well as she realized that they were once again alone. How he hated seeing that fear there. It was the fire of her gaze that warmed him; not her fear. It was the fire inside her that he responded to. “You had to put me in a room with a big window.” She said with her voice shaky once more. Her ability to see humor in the most dire of situations intrigued him. Most women would be screaming and trembling, but she bolstered herself rather well, with all things considered. The look of guilt briefly washed over him when he glanced at the damage to his ship and then back at her once more. “Frightened you , did it?” He asked and saw that her look in return to him would have melted ice. He couldn’t resist taunting her more. “Ah, now, Lady Anna, go ahead and admit it. Your blood is racing through your veins and for the first time in your life, you’re drunk with the sense of adventure!” “I’m quite certain I have no idea what you mean.” Anna quipped and lifted her chin haughtily. He moved to stand before her, then reached out with his hand and gently tilted her chin until she met his gaze. “Aye, you do. Our escape was exhilarating, and I’ve seen enough of your spirit to know you appreciate it.” “Bah.” She responded and turned her head away in retaliation. Still, Tempest managed to trace the line of her soft, delicate jaw and he couldn’t help wondering how much softer and more tender the flesh of her bare stomach would be. “Tell me, has your pasty-faced fiancé ever made you feel this alive?” “Alive?” Anna questioned and scowled at him. “You nearly got me killed!” “Almost never counts.” Tempest waved his finger at her. “You almost got away from me earlier, but you didn’t.” She took a step back from him and crossed her arms over her breasts as if to protect herself from him. It was a pitiful attempt. “You’re an evil man.” Well, Tempest certainly couldn’t argue that point. He was an evil man with a wicked intent where this particular woman was concerned. He slowly walked around behind her and reached down to draw her in close against him. Leaning downward then, he whispered in her. "Aye. An evil man who has just given you one of the most memorable experiences of your life. One I know you’ll recount dozens of times to your children and grandchildren.” He then brushed a silken strand of hair off her shoulder and noted the chills that sprang up on her arms, the tightening of her breasts beneath the thing cotton of her blouse. Closing his eyes, he imagined how sweet it would be to taste those taut peaks, to run his tongue over them. He’d nibble and suckle them until she begged him to go lower… “I bet Alexander Hamilton never made your heart pound.” He said to distract himself before he gave away to the raging fire of his groin. Now, that got her dander up again. She shook his touch away and turned to pull herself out of his hold. “His Grace protects me!” The Captain duplicated her pose of crossing his arms over his chest then. “I didn’t see His Grace protecting you at Court. Where was he while you being pawed by a boorish old fart of a king?” “He was held up by the Starkhaven Prince.” She announced in triumph. “Well then, I’m certainly relieved to know that my capture is worth more than your virtue to him.” Tempest nodded in retort. Anna shook her head quickly and raised her hands up to her ears. “Stop it this instant. I’ll hear no more of this from you. Alexander loves me and respects me more than his own life. You’re just trying to confuse me.” He tilted her chin back towards him and leaned in close in between the attempts to steal a kiss. “The truth is often confusing.” However, Anna stiffened and this time pushed him away. “No! It is never confusing. The truth is the truth.” “Then tell me what do you see as the truth.” Tempest shrugged and held up his arms in some minor defeat. “The truth is that you are a black-hearted scoundrel who must be brought to justice. You attack defenseless crews and leave them to die.” She stated and crossed her arms once more. This time, his laugh was bitter and it rang out proudly. He shook his head to her and stepped close once more. “Since when is a shipload of men armed to their teeth considered defenseless And what of the Starkhaven naval fleet? Do you consider them defenseless as well?" She frowned. “But you—” “I traveled with your fiancé, lass. Do you wish to know what he said about having you for a Bride?” Tempest questioned her and pulled his hands behind his back as he started to pace around her. “Oh, he was excited, for sure. He wanted everything to be traditional as requested by his father’s dying will. His Grace will protect you and he is sure to take care of you… But to love you? Believe me, that is not something that a Magister is even capable of doing.” “You lie.” Anna breathed in steadily and squared her shoulders back a bit. “And even if it’s true, it does not matter.” “Doesn’t it? Every woman marries for love – a fleeting emotion…” Tempest paused in his tracks as he turned back to her. “Or is it something else? Do you admit, you do not love your own fiancé?” “How can I love someone I have never even met?” Anna questioned him with fire in her eyes. Intrigued by this, Tempest returned back to her. “Then, prey tell me this. Who is it that has captivated your heart and locked it away so tightly that no key seems visible to even reach?” “His name will never reach your lips.” She sneered with an anger that could frighten a minotaur. “That special is this man…” Tempest pondered and tapped his chin lightly. “This man, Alexander.” “Jowan--!” Anna blurted out and then caught herself. Her face turned red and she fumed at his visible (though muted) victory in gaining secrets she would have rather kept to herself. “…I want you to take me back to Alexander, right now!” “Take you back… Back to your safe little world where you may pass judgement on people without knowing the facts. Really, Anna, you do disappoint me.” He rolled his eyes to her. “Do you think I care whether or not I disappoint you, Tempest Darkwater?” Anna huffed bitterly. “I know you don’t.” Tempest agreed. “I’m simply a dastardly pirate unworthy of anything more than your contempt…” “Exactly.” Anna snapped at him. “Exactly.” Tempest repeated with an exaggerated sigh. “Then come, Lady Anna, and I shall take you off to your own little room where you may hide from the harsh realities of life. It must truly be nice to grow up so comforted. I personally wouldn’t know.” And with that, he ignored the angry indignation on her face, turned on his heel, and led her from the room. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

02/05/2022 02:06 PM  Spell Discussions Current mood:  creative Spell Discussions   Video: “Merlin vs. Mim" By: Disney’s “The Sword in the Stone” __________________________________ //After watching “The Sword in the Stone” Merlin vs. Mim, 2 things I have concluded: (1.) Most epic druid battle ever. (2.) I want to add Merlin’s final attack to Vince’s arsenal. But can this really be done? Sure, Tempest is a blood mage and that does involve elements within the body but he is limited to this. (With the exclusion of Earth Elemental magic.) He is unable to do Entropy or Necromancy; which, to my understanding are entirely different from each other as well as different from blood magic. In the classification of Entropy, the spells are things like Paralysis, Weakness Hex, Affliction and a few other variety of hexes. In the Necromancy category, there are spells like Walking Bomb, Power of the Dead, and Binding Terror. Under regular conditions, these categories would compliment a blood mage and certainly make them more powerful. However, bind the mage to darkness. Tempest’s character was created with the sole purpose of balance; to have the right amount of Yin and Yang in order to one day create a balanced world of his own. This was always the plan of the ancient dragon cult that helped to mold him into the person that he is in current storylines. To add a Pestilence spell, I think I would almost have to create a subcategory spell tree revolving around poisons. This was not something really explored in Dragon Age magic. I am not sure as to why – maybe it was based on the belief that only rogues dealt with poisons and blood magic has kind of fulfilled most mages’ needs for mind manipulation and physical damages with Hemorrhage and Blood Slave. But since magic is a continuously evolving concept in the Dragon Age world (going by example from the Blood Mage Grey Warden, Avernus, at Soldier’s Peak and his experiment’s that created the spell tree Power of Blood – also among my favorites) and so there could be one or two subclasses or stand-alone spells. Which goes back to my question, would it even be worth doing this? It would be affective against all living creatures. For it to be anything significant and worth using, it would have to be a last resort spell similarly used for escaping in the manner that Vince does with his signature Shadow Spell. (I have not added Vince’s abilities in combat specifically, because technically he is a separate character, an OC Demon category and he is rarely in situations where he must fight in his true form. He rarely has his true form even revealed because he rarely ever has many conflicts with his host and/or he is rarely ever pushed to certain limits in battle or needing to escape.) In addition to the disadvantages, if a character that he tries to infect is somehow immune to the disease, then Vince/Tempest would be stuck in a germ-like state within the host’s body he tried to infect, until he is expelled through a bodily function like coughing or sneezing. He could potentially be held prisoner! ******************** https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Blood_magic https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Entropy_spells_(Origins) https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Necromancer https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Avernus Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

02/04/2022 11:23 PM  The Pirate Takes a Bride Pt.2 Current mood:  accomplished The Pirate Takes a Bride Part 2   Video: “Hey Little Songbird" By: Hadestown __________________________________ Disclaimer: Part 2--- When Tempest makes his fourth significant seize, he takes Alexander’s promised fiancée aboard his ship. This may develop into a few more written pieces and/or be incorporated into other storylines to see where it can go. *************************** It had been over an hour since Tempest had left his little lamb locked away for the time being. He took that time for himself and left her to stew in her petty worry. It gave him time to bathe and change clothes properly. It anything, he enjoyed being clean – considering that half of the other time, he would usually be caked in sea spray, blood and guts of either an animal, beast or human. At least for now, instead of smelling ripe off death and danger, he could smell of fresh soap made oils with lemongrass and sandalwood—which was something he preferred of for himself. His black trousers were snug against his lean muscular hips and thighs, and tucked into a pair of finely polished boots tipped with silver inlays. The black cotton shirt was full and open at the throst, displaying a good hand’s length of dark curled chest hair that gave a rich contrast to the defined pale muscle in the low candlelight. He dipped his under eyelids in kohl which protected him from the sun’s rays and gave a sharp contrast to his black hair and blue eyes as well. After deciding that it was time to finally check on Anna, he returned to her room and unlocked the door. It swung open with ease and he found the woman sitting at the table in dismay. From the sound of his entrance, she was –again—skittish as a mouse and alert. Jolting to her feet and looking at him in worry, Anna wrung her hands together and nearly tripped over her chair to step away. Not once had she turned her back on him then. “Wh-What do you want?” She asked and reached for the bracers that canceled her magic—knowing that without his explicit removal of them, her powers were nullified. Tempest waited until she stopped in her retreat and smiled and her. “Still don’t trust me.” “Should I?” She questioned. His face turned serious and he began to move towards her. “No. You shouldn’t.” Instinctively, she backed across the room until the wall stopped her retreat. Tempest saw this and stopped at the table where she had been sitting. Then, he placed the small brass key on the tabletop. When he looked up at her his eyes sought to pin her with a cold and serious stare. “This is the only key to this room.” Anna looked at the key that glinted in the gold candlelight. “You may keep the door locked for the entire trip if you wish.” He continued. Anna lifted her gaze from the key to his face. “Y-You’re really not going to rape me?” Closing his eyes, Tempest clenched his teeth and bore the look of a man who was struggling for patience and losing such a battle quickly. “No. Anna. I am not going to rape you.” Her skeptical look said it all. She was still unsure of what to believe, and Tempest did tell her that he was not trustworthy. Hesitantly, she brought her tired hands up to her chin. “Is this all just some elaborate game to you? Are you trying to make me trust you so that you can torture me with betrayal at the end?” This intrigued him, and he braced his hands to his hips proudly. “Been listening to stories about me, have you?” “They’re true, aren’t they?” She asked in that same timid voice. He shrugged then and turned. “I guess it depends on whom you ask. What I’ve learned over the years is that all truths are relative and still never so easily deciphered. Every person sees a different reality.” “You like to play with people’s perceptions, don’t you?” The question she gave was more accusing than inquisitive though her expression never changed. He didn’t answer her. Rather instead, he moved forward to her slowly. His eyes watched as she cowered as far back against the wall behind her. When she couldn’t back away any further, Anna winced and whimpered with the hidden warning that she may scream if he touched her. That was when he stopped; just half a foot away from her. He looked at the laced ribbon in her hair and reached for it to lift and caress under the curve of his scarred and callused fingers. “Little Anna.” He whispered and tugged at the ribbing to draw it closer towards himself. “Named for grace and favored of our Maker. You, who stood proud and fearful amongst your peers when the Circle threatened to hang you, I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” She shook in fright even still. “What do you want from me?” Tempest’s gaze looked from the ribbon that he fondled lightly with and into her eyes. “I want you to know…that no one aboard my ship will harm you… Especially not me.” He stood there for a moment longer as silence surrounded them in a state of slowed time. He watched as her shoulders slowly seemed to dwindle away from any rushed rising and falling from rapid breathing. Carefully, he tested his distance then by relaxing his fingers to allow the ribbon to fall away from him. As if the motion was meant to have been casual, Tempest traced his fingertips over the exposed skin at the crevice of her collarbone and slightly a bit further down to press lightly over her heart. Her blood, he noticed, did not appear to be rushing anymore. “There.” He soothed in a calm and quietly. “No fear?” “—A little fear.” Anna responded shakily. And Tempest laughed. A knock came at the door and without tearing his gaze from her, he responded.. “Enter.” Morgan entered the room. He looked from Anna briefly and gave Tempest a weighted disapproving look before tucking his hands behind his back. “It would appear that one of Starkhaven’s ships has found us. If you’re done scaring the poor lass, we need you topside for the fight.” “Fight?” Anna blinked suddenly with new fear. “I told you stealing you away would have pissed off someone.” Tempest grinned and brought his hands back to his hips once more. “And who’s fault is that?” Morgan reminded him. His eyebrows narrowed at him. “Well, the King of Starkhaven was already at civil war. I didn’t think he’d really spare his ships.” Tempest shrugged with a glance behind him and started to turn away to return back to Morgan. “But then again, I know that Alexander is a stubborn bastard. I have no doubt that he appealed to the King for the use of his naval fleet just for the sole purpose to chase us.” “Whether a King or a Magister, Captain--" “Aye, still my fault; I get it, Morgan. Damn.” Tempest nodded and gestured nonchalantly at the floor beneath him. “Since when have you turned into such a sour wet fart?” “How can you find any of this funny?” Anna remarked in a spike of her concern. “Don’t be afraid, Anna. There's really nothing to worry about.” Tempest reassured nearly aloof. “Death!” Anna snapped at him and her hands turned into fists. “Death is something to worry over! You have to let me go. The King of Starkhaven has ships unlike anything Thedas has ever seen! He will sink us in the blink of an eye!” Tempest stopped in his tracks and with a proud flourish, he turned around and posed before her with flare. “Then fear not, fair maiden! I shall cast off those demon ships, or my name isn’t Captain Darkwater, the Scourge of the Sea!” With a gesture towards the window adjacent from them, Tempest swiped at it and crossed his hand over his heart. “I shall smite them to the very depth of ocean where they can never again pose a threat to your most cherished personage.” Anna’s eyes widened at him in disbelief when he returned back to her dramatically and took her hand into his. With a low dip, he kissed her knuckles lightly and began to stand once more. Their eyes met and his grin turned slightly darker. “I bid thee adieu, fair maiden, but before I leave and face my most dreaded foe, wilt though not send me off with a kiss?” Before she could protest or refuse, the Captain’s grasp around her hand tightened a little and he abruptly pulled her towards himself. What meant to have been a firm refusal suddenly turned more into a surprised wail just as he lowered his lips over hers. Too shocked to push away, Anna’s arms lay limp at her sides while his moved to lower and seal around her waist. He kissed her like a heated fire kissed a dry log, quick fierce and eager to burn. His lips opened hers and he exchanged the taste of honeyed rum for berries and wine. He held her in his demands for just a moment longer until he pulled back and stared down into her eye. ‘Now.” He spoke in victory. “If death awaits, I can go happily to my grave.” “You’re insane.” Anna breathed, still stunned at him. “’Nay, my dearest Anna, I am merely a man who has sampled the fruit of heaven. And, fate willing on the morrow I shall sample the peaks.’” Tempest declared in another poetic quote. His eyes lowered towards her breasts and then further even lower between them. “’And valley.’” Anna blushed and violently pushed him away. His smile grew wider upon taking a predicted step back. “N-Never!” “Never… Never, never, never… Never.” Tempest teased and recited while his hand moved to the top of her bodice, where a row of buttons secured the thin linen over her corset. “’Pray you undo this button.’” Anna’s blush deepened, hot and filled with fury and embarrassment. Her eyes narrowed at the quote from Shakespear’s King Lear. Yes, Tempest was still making fun of her and Anna appeared to have no desire for it. Not for him and definitely not for his little games. “’Eyes look your last.’” She taunted and folded her arms tightly over her breasts. “’Away with you, moldy rouge. Away!’” “You’re mixing your plays.” Tempest wagged a finger at her and his devious grin began to spread. “This isn’t a game—!” Anna pushed bitterly just as a cannon blast was sounded outside. “Sh*t.” Morgan ground his teeth and looked at the direction that the sound came from. “They’ve gotten closer. Captain! With respect, please stop flirting and move your ass!” Tempest laughed and ran for the door. He paused briefly once more before turning back to Anna and raised his head high. “Fair thoughts and happy hours attend you, My Lady.” And with that, he was gone to help in fighting the battle against Starkhaven’s ship that threatened him. It shouldn’t take too long to defeat even a King’s vessel. Tempest had a high pride in the Krisselex, after all. It was a large vessel, over all length stood at 112 ft. and the mast height stood at 89 ft. tall. The ship had up to six massive sails, a 4,442 square foot sailing area, a running rig at 3 miles long and a carrying gross tonnage of over 104 tons. She was fully equipped with six three pounder cannons by three on each side and two swivel cannons by one posted at the north end of the ship and one right at the rear. It was no Qunari dreadnaught or a Tevene vessel but it was still his, and Tempest was proud of it. The Krisselex has seen plenty of action even long before she was initially seized. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

01/29/2022 04:21 PM  The Pirate Takes a Bride Current mood:  accomplished The Pirate Takes a Bride   Video: “Supermassive Black Hole" By: Muse __________________________________ Disclaimer: When Tempest makes his fourth significant seize, he takes Alexander’s promised fiancée aboard his ship. This may develop into a few more written pieces and/or be incorporated into other storylines to see where it can go. He could practically hear her heart hammering away in fear. The sound of her rattled breathing was sharp and intense yet she stared at the pirate longer rather than opposed to fleeing for the closest hot poker within the room to prod into his chest. It was amusing to him; like playing with a mouse before ensnaring her into a trap to lock up tight, her expression spoke of it all. His eyes were alight; however, for now, he tried to not seem as the cold-blooded killer of legend. If anything, in this moment, he was the mischievous child who completed a well devised prank. After all, she was on his ship and there was no escape. He won. “What are you going to do to me? She asked and stood firm. His eyebrows lifted from the question and his youthful smile grinned ever-more charming. “Believe it or not, and I’m sure you won’t, I mean you no harm.” She scoffed to this answer. “Am I supposed to believe that the most wanted pirate on earth has abducted me and means me no harm? Surely, Sir, you take me for a fool.” Anna was anything but a fool. Even Tempest knew of this. He could try to charm his way to many women’s hearts but not so easily to hers. As she attempted to turn for the window to open the latch, the pirate grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward him. “I told you, you wouldn’t believe.” He rasped in between the struggle until Anna drew back to slap him. Though, when he saw her hand, his face turned dark and foreboding. “Don’t.” The word carried with it more power than a raging hurricane, and yet it still remained calm as though it were from the very eye of the storm. It was enough for her to lower her arm in the meantime. Still, there was that look of fear in those doe-filled eyes. Though, how else was he going to initiate this, when asking nicely would simply have him laughed at? Tempest would take fear with cooperation over a giggle-filled refusal any day of the week. “You don’t really expect me to just sit here quietly while you abduct me?” She questioned and her voice carried with it a hot streak of anger. “That’s exactly what I expect you to do.” He answered with a nod. “You haven’t been around many women, have you?” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve been around enough.” His response remained empty but the shrug in his shoulders spoke of it more. “Well.” She said and started to struggle again. “They certainly didn’t teach you any manners.” “Pirate.” He laughed and tightened his hold around her after giving a rough jerk to one side, he leaned her back in a very insecure dip across his arm. Looking down at her, he grinned in his victory and rubbed his fingers sensually along her captured wrists. “What? Would you have me spout poetry?” She stiffened her spine at his reprimand. “You didn’t appear to be the pirate last night at the party. You were a gentlemen then.” “Aye, well, you didn’t appear to be a tavern whore last night, but—” “Hold your tongue!” She snapped, her vision dulling at the very insult. “Only if you wish, but I doubt you truly do.” He laughed and after earning her angered fury in the form of a growl, he finally pulled her slightly up to stand upright once more. “I apologize, Miss Amell. I have no doubt of your innocence. You were a Mage of the Ferelden Circle, after all…” A fear slightly shuddered within her and she looked up at him. “Is that why you intend to rape me?” As if the word magical meaning, Tempest immediately released her from his grasp. His arms fell to his sides so fast that there was a chance that the poor woman stumbled a bit in regaining balance. Though while he did remain standing firm like a sturdy table, it was the window of the ship’s cabin that she retreated towards still. “I have no intention of raping you.” He spoke rather calm but again, his words carried weight. Cowering towards the window and regaining her strength to stand, Anna’s hands formed into fists. “Then why all this…? This elaborate abduction?” “Why not?” Tempest shrugged flippantly once more. He retreated back to the table, where he poured himself a drink. “I was there, you were there, Lord Pasty Face was there. It seemed like the perfect opportunity.” Her magical power collected in her hands in secret then as the knot in her stomach drew even tighter. “An opportunity for what?” He paused, looking at her hands that were beginning to collect magic within them and then returned his attention to pouring a second glass of whiskey. Setting the bottle down, he glanced back up at her afterwards and initiated the second glass towards the edge of the table in her direction. “Let’s pretend it’s a game, shall we?” He asked while placing the top back onto the bottle. “A game?” Anna huffed in indignation. “A game of what?” “Of chance and chase.” Tempest grinned once more and reached back for his glass in front of him. “Meaning what?” She hesitated. “Meaning you, my little guppy, are the bait I intend to use to lure a shark out of his nest.” He said and started to drink. “I don’t understand.” She stated and stalled for a time in collecting her energy still. “I know you don’t.” He said and his gaze veiled. “I don’t want you to. Suffice to say, you’re going to be my guest for awhile.” “Thank you for the invitation,” she began as he took the second glass in his hands and walked back around the table to approach her. “but I really must decline.” This time, his laughter was evil, and he lifted the second glass to her. “I’m afraid I really must insist.” As soon as he took his eyes off from her, in preparation to drink from his own glass, Anna released her magic at him. The black spike that shot from her hand pierced the glass that he was drinking from and caused the glass to shatter. Tempest’s eyes flashed in a brief light of crimson but he could not react since Anna pushed past him and made a race for the door. She knew of what happened to women that pirates tended to capture. Their unfortunate ends usually came to being stranded or canonized in some barbaric manner as part of the crew. They were property, in the worst and sickest of methods---ways that she did not wish to think about. As she opened the door and made a dash down the long hallway of the second half of the ship, Anna could only pray that she would make to the stairs to reach the main deck. If she could just get there, she would leap over the railing and swim back to shore. She made it past the door but she couldn’t reach the main railing on the main deck. Vines suddenly lashed out and wrapped around her arms, pinning them to her sides and then her legs, causing her to trip. She screamed upon hitting the floor and before she knew it, the pirate returned onto her back to pin her down a second time. She kicked, in bucking her combined legs while trying to rip away from the vines. However, he struggled to, in between ripping some of the vines himself. Anna tried to summon her magic again, only to find that for some reason, she couldn’t summon forth anything. The feeling of a warm piece of leather was placed around her left forearm, and then again to her right. She had a distinct feeling that these were probably some form of bracers worn to cancel magic. Angered and frantic, Anna’s struggle became more violent and frantic. “As I said…” He ground out, in between tightening the laces to the bracers. “I really must insist.” “Let me go!” She shrieked while he moved her tangled body into a roll. “I have no intention of renewing our chase, Miss Amell.” He told her and reached down to pick her up and hoist her onto his back like a full burlap sack. He sensed Anna drawing back to possibly pummel his back. Though, surely, she would see the dark stain of blood on his shirt and hesitate once more. However, being left exposed, Tempest didn’t want to take just the minor shock factor as the only indication that it would be in her better interests to remain calm. “If you so much as pat that wound,” Tempest warned with a heated strain of breath, “I’ll see your back lashed with a whip.” It seemed enough put a pause in her actions. Tempest was done giving her room to run. He wanted to give the lady a fair chance in being treated like a respectable captive – someone he did not have to put magical restraints on or tether herself to him. However, as always, it seemed he was to be disappointed in this. Captives would always try to run and she was his. “Captain!” Another man’s voice came from the bellow deck. In a fluster, the owner of the voice stumbled up the steps to see what the commotion was all about. “Thank the Maker! I was just…” His voice trailed off when he saw Tempest in mid-hoist of the woman. His eyes met with her fearful ones and quickly he looked to her abductor with disdain. “Just what the bloody hell have you done now?” His question when ignored as Tempest carried Anna across the main deck, past crew members who stared at them in a mixture of curiosity and disbelief, and descended down the steps back down to the decks below. The man who uttered words in search of the Captain followed in pursuit. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gulping for air. The lanterns that were placed on the walls every few feet gave away the spots along the floor where a trail of blood dripped in loose droplets and sprays. No doubt, the spike-magic that Anna impaled him with did more than just shatter a glass in his hand. He was injured badly and still had the adrenaline and determination to muster in carrying her around. Tempest wouldn’t give Anna the satisfaction in seeing just how nasty the wound had been other than a flesh wound that pierced directly right through him. “Is this the girl from the party last night?” The stranger asked while still following close in toe. “Aye.” Tempest answered as he looked and marched onward. “I told you, pup, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” “What is it with you and this woman?” The man asked as he was dumbstruck. “Tempest! You can’t go around abducting heiresses. Are you insane?” “Tempest snorted. “So, I’ve been told…” “Make him let me go.” Anna begged the man who followed them. “Please don’t let him keep me!” The man opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Heavy footsteps walked above and below them. It was a busy ship, after all. The echoes of someone approaching them from in the front came soon, and Anna tried to peer over Tempest’s opposite shoulder in order to see. Of course, this resulted in her struggling again and trying to either reclaim balance or lead to being dropped. “Tarik,” Tempest said in greeting, “Get the men ready to sail. We leave immediately.” “Aye, Captain.” Tarik agreed and turned in a rush. Tempest paused for a moment, tightening one arm around Anna’s legs to keep her steady. Though, her struggling ended soon anyway, for her head hit a swaying lantern. In response, Tempest eased her slightly away from the fire by taking one more step towards the center, and then finalized his indication with a firm smack to her behind, making her shriek again. “Hold still, woman!” He rolled his eyes and grinned. “The last thing you need is a concussion.” “You--! You brute!” Anna hissed with the rage of frustration at him, but this too was ignored. “And Tarik,” Tempest said, his voice thick with warning. “We are chased. If they show up on the docks, aim to maim. Do what you have to, but try not to kill anyone.” “Captain?” The man asked as if the order confused him. “Just do it.” Tempest huffed and turned to walk again. “Tell the men I’ll have the head of anyone who kills a Vint or a Free Marcher tonight.” “Aye, Captain.” Tarik said and hurried in a scuttle back to the steps at the main deck. Tempest walked past another man who turned to watch him carry off the blonde woman as though she was some sort of prize. Again, Anna tried to call for sympathy from anyone who would hear and she hollered; straightening her legs and upper torso to outstretch in some frantic attempt to break free. “Let! Me! Go!” She demanded with each pull but was only greeted with another smack to her behind. Again, she scowled and screeched at him. “You’re sounding more and more like a banshee.” Tempest laughed in amusement. “Undo these bindings and I’ll show a damn banshee!” Anna scowled at him. “Such a mouth on my lady.” Tempest taunted back as they walked towards the last room in the hall, to the left. “You got to let her go, Tempest.” The next man that followed them addressed with a gesture towards her. “Can’t you see, she’s more trouble than even you want.” Tempest’s laugh remained low and stayed as his only response. Now, the man trailing them looked as if he wanted to throttle the Captain as much as Anna did. She looked to the man with helpless blue eyes. Her hands pleaded in front of her. “Please! Please talk some sense into him.” She begged, possibly hoping that this new stranger held some sway over her captor. “Enough of this, Tempest. Let her go.” The man breathed in hesitation at first but soon marched to the Captain’s side. Tempest ignored him while fumbling at his side for a ring of keys. He managed to single one out from the rest into his grasp, and placed it in the lock at the door. “’Lay on, Macduff; and damned be him that first cries, halt, enough.’” “Very amusing, Tempest.” The man near him snarled and folded his arms. To the contrary, he did not make light of the Shakespeare quote. “Need I remind you, Macbeth lost his head!” “You’ve known me to lose my head plenty of times.” Tempest dismissed the remark and opened the door. He then walked to the center of the large cabin and finally placed Anna down. Immediately, she broke from the vines around her legs and bolted for the door. Turning to grab her, Tempest didn’t manage the first grasp. So, instead, he hollered in his commanding tone; a volume that reached even above deck, if possible. “Stop!” He roared and crossed the room until he stood before her, once the intimidation seemed to have halted her in her tracks. He looked at her with eyes devoid of emotion when he stared sharply at her. “I weary of chasing you, my lady. If you so much as take one step from this room, then I shall be forced to kill you for it.” Anna sniffled in tears at him. She cowardly inched back but her chin still reared up in defiance. “Better dead than raped.” Tempest rolled his eyes. He turned to the man behind them now. “Would you please tell the wench that rape isn’t included on my list of crimes against nations?" "Neither was kidnapping until tonight." The man behind him retorted. “You’re not helping…” Tempest’s look could have forged steel. His frown sharpened as it formed and he braced his hands back to his hips. “And, anyway, I haven’t the time to deal with either one of you.” He then paused and looked back to Anna. “You’ll be locked in here until we get safely past Hamilton’s warship.” “Warship?” Anna blinked in sudden surprise etched out on her features. “He might even manage to convince the Ruler of Starkhaven to chase after us too…” Tempest pondered openly and looked back at Anna then in amusement. “What? You’re the prize that Alexander Hamilton wants. Do you think Mr.Seventh Chair to the High Archon will take this insult of mine lightly?” “You really are insane…!” Anna shuddered at him with wide eyes. “Try to relax and stay low to the floor.” Tempest suggested as he started to turn. “Low to the floor?” Anna asked and took a step closer. “Aye.” Tempest said and reached for the handle of the door. “You’re less likely to lose your head should a cannonball come crashing through the wall.” “Is that a joke?” Anna asked and started to follow even closer still, but the second man had stopped her and she looked to him while being held back. “He’s joking, isn’t he?” “’Fraid not, lass.” He answered for him and soon took his following in front of Tempest in order to leave. “Don’t worry.” Tempest offered a taunting and wild smile. “If the ship starts sinking, I promise, I’ll come back and unlock the door.” With that, he closed the door and locked it before the frustrating woman could reach the handle in time. He could feel the eyes of his other crewmember, Morgan, staring down at him with full judgement. But Morgan didn’t understand. He didn’t realize just how close Tempest was to getting what he wanted. Lady Anna was merely a footnote. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

01/25/2022 09:57 PM  Seduced *Mature* Content Current mood:  adored Seduced *Mature Content*   Video: “Sacrifice" By: Black Atlass, Jessie Reyes __________________________________ Disclaimer: This is a written work from three different muse-sources combine. Because of how they are so woven into the piece, I cannot take full credit. However, I wrote this to show a snippet of Isabela's and Tempest’s relationship shortly after he embraced the life of being a pirate. Isabela is a Pirate Captain from Dragon Age Origins, and is a romantic interest in Dragon Age 2. Given her reputation to plunder and ‘woo' nearly any man, I found it fitting for her to be the one to have first broken Tempest’s heart. However, chances are that this Rivain Captain will not ever be a part of many storylines beyond perhaps an honorable mention—if anything at all. So, naturally, I had to write just how she eventually seduced Tempest away from the addiction of bloodlust and battle. This is also NSFW content –And let's be honest—plain smutty. So, read at your own discretion! ❤ “These are Torrent’s paintings?” Tempest gazed around at the brightly colored canvases adorning the wall of the small salon. Torrent was one of the few artists displaying work at an art gallery called “Eden” in Orlais; however, his original work had been stolen and brought to the Obsidian Isles. His work had a full room within Isabela’s little treasure trove. Like a shrine, that it was, to one artist and his work. “They are.” The Rivain Pirate Captain nodded and folded her arms underneath the swell of her large breasts; pushing pressing in the creases to her leather jacket. “What do you think?” “I think Jacques Torrent has perhaps too much enthusiasm for bondage and ménage à trois.” Tempest admitted while staring at the paintings as if it were the first time his eyes took in an orgy. Isabela snorted a laugh at him shook her head at his response. It was a little more honest of an answer than one would have first thought, coming from a man like him but lacking the added heavy criticism that a Tevinter Noblemen would have usually given. “—He does have a good use of color, though.” Tempest remarked while still looking around. His gaze fell on a painting depicting a lush-figured woman lying nude on a bed, her wrists and ankles bound to the posters with airy-looking scarves. Not one inch of her splayed form was hidden from view and Torrent had captured every detail—so much so that Tempest almost believed that if he were to touch his finger to the woman’s sex, it would come away damp. “I find his work very…sensual.” Isabela said when he didn’t offer any further criticism. “It’s almost as though you can smell the subject’s perfume, the musk of sex. See how her belly is flushed?” Tempest swallowed hard and looked to where Isabela redirected his gaze to another painting in which the woman was pleasuring herself with an ivory phallus. “He never misses a detail.” Isabela’s smooth lips curved in the most pleasing of smiles. “I can even feel her arousal.” Tempest did not need to know that. He was already about to sweat profusely just from the collection of scantily clothed images alone. He could feel the demon within him clawing at his mind and whispering orders --dark orders that Tempest had been rather too strong to give in to for some time, when it came to Isabela. She was a woman who teased his prudence around her; mistaking it for virgin’s chastity. She truly had no idea how wrong she would be of that ----well---to some extent. The bloodmage had yet to still have a woman other than oral fixation, bondage and various dark kinks that twisted pain into pleasure. That’s not to say he’d probably avoid having his “sword” hilted into the heavy temptations of a woman’s “sheath.” He just did not have this experience. No. The Ancient Dragon Cult refused him of that one pleasure, believing to be the one purity that could not be tainted. Now, his gut twisted in knots and turns, wondering if the very thought was merely splitting hairs by this point. He was not “green-horned” by any means. Tempest knew the pleasures of the mouth in its multiple uses but around Isabela, he still tended to possess blue balls and on the edge. –And she spared no time to tease him of this when she knew. “I certainly like his work better than the drawings of the woman with a candle up her ass.” He joked while trying find a dark corner somewhere to stare at for a while. Isabela laughed while her deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle. Her gaze met his wandering blue hues and she kept that Cheshire’s Grin even still. “So do I.” Tempest abruptly looked away. One glance at her now, and his thoughts went where they shouldn’t go---again. His gaze fell upon a very graphic but somehow beautiful representation of a half-naked young woman sitting in a chair with a man kneeling between her spread thighs. He had his mouth on her, his tongue buried deep in the auburn curls. From the flush on the girl’s cheeks, the way she clutched the man’s hair, Tempest would have to surmise she liked it. He found his thoughts wandering again with dark whispers that where Vince just would not let him be. The bloodmage would have liked to make Isabela flush like that. To taste her on his lips, lick her sweet slit—the tiny little button inside—and wrap his lips around her swollen sex to pull and suckle until she shuddered and came all over his face and then— ….Thank the Blood she was no true mind reader. Thank the Blood he was wearing a long enough coat to hide his groin! Many more thoughts like that occurring to him—and he’d be walking like a hunchback. It was just too much. All of this was too much for he or the greedy little demon gnawing at his peace to withstand! “These paintings… They are originals, right?” Tempest questioned in a vague and desperate attempt to take his mind off from the actual images surrounding him. “That’s right.” She said and looked back at the paintings once more. “I steal the originals, bring them here to have them copied, for a five percent profit, and then sell the copies.” “But ..that’s illegal!” Tempest blinked and looked at her with wide eyes and shock. “It’s only illegal if you get caught.” She rolled her eyes slightly and shrugged her shoulders then. Heavy breasts seemed to sway and expand from every upper chest movement that she made. Her body teased and tormented even when she was not even trying. That luscious dark Rivain tan and toned muscle could wet any appetite. Tempest salivated in secret denial over her. “Besides, it’s far better to steal artwork and counterfeit it than to steal human lives from their homes.” Isabela had him there, and it was all still a rather sore spot for him. Tempest narrowed his eyes at her and his jaw stiffened. “It wasn’t like that---not for me, anyway.” “You mean you weren’t kidnapping and enslaving Dalish elves across the frozen deserts of Nevarra?” Isabela raised an eyebrow at him to taunt and question him harshly. “You saw how the war was. I was Exiled from home.” Tempest blurted out defensively and a spike to his anger slightly rose. “I was forced--!” “No one forces you to do anything, Tempest. You have always been your own man.” Isabela shook her head and smiled with a sigh. “Maker’s Breath! It’s like you’re a baby bird still realizing that he is truly free from his cage.” “Aye…” Tempest caught himself saying through gritted teeth and started to turn. “And one in need of some fresh air.” “One moment.” She clutched his hand in hers just as he began to pass her for the exit. “There is one more display I want you to see.” By the f***ing sweet blood! He was not going to survive this. He was beginning to suspect that she had brought him there, not just to see Torrent’s work, but to torture him with a thousand sexual images and taunt his patience with her. Yet, despite these misgivings, he followed where she led. She could be leading him into a room full of people ready to stab at him with silveritte daggers and he would still follow. A lapdog with fangs ready to feast, that’s what he was becoming. However, instead of a dagger room, she led him into an other small shrine set up much like the one that housed Torrent’s work, only these were charcoal drawings. Beautiful, erotic charcoal drawings. There was nothing as obvious as some of the other work he’d viewed there that evening. Nothing quite so blatant and colorful as Torrent’s work. These images were subtle shades of black and white—delicate, tantalizing grays accentuated with soft highlights and seductive shadows. Bodies entwined under gossamer fabric, revealing the hazy outline of a nipple, the soft curve of buttocks. In another, a nude breast was just barely covered by a strong, dark male hand. Faces were shadowed, eyes closed in sublime pleasure. Tempest swallowed hard once more. These drawings were done by someone who understood seduction. This artist knew the difference between revealing too much and revealing just enough. With a close image of a woman’s face, lips parted in rapture, the artist captured the essence of climax without any overt image. And then he saw it. Among some individual portraits--mostly ethereal nudes--was a drawing of a lone male. He was shirtless, his trousers hanging low on his lean hips. His back was to the viewer, profile turned ever so slightly. From this angle of the male, there was no viewing of the burn brand at his hip. But the burn scars on his back were what Tempest recognized instantly. It was him. “Do you like it?” Isabela asked, her voice a hot breath against his ear. Did he? He wasn’t so certain. He wasn’t sure he liked being on display so open and vulnerable to a canvas, and yet…. Was that how she saw him? Was that how he looked in her presence? In this drawing, his wings did not appear ugly or something to be resented. It was very much the opposite, as they were forced to be viewed upon and accented with soft feathery strokes of charcoal blending directly into the fabric canvas. Indeed, they were not something branded and scorched on by the devil, but instead they appeared to have been light, fluffy and perhaps even gifted to him by the very Holy Maker. So, then…despite what she knew of him, was he an angel to her? Was he truly glorified to that point of innocence? Surely, it was a bit of a stretch…and yet, his heart was touched. “You drew this.” Tempest stated softly as a-matter-of-factly and his eyes darted over the soft and wispy texture of the burns. “Along my travels, I learned a thing or two in dabbling with a bit of coal and ink.” Isabela nodded and leaned slightly against his shoulder. “But that still doesn’t answer my question.” “I like it.” Tempest spoke quickly and jerked his stiff neck to her and met her gaze. “I like all of it. I like it a lot.” Somehow, this made up for everything between the both of them and it still left Tempest in wanting. Perhaps, it was because he was still plagued with erotic paintings and drawings. But at least Isabela seemed happy again. She smiled and stepped towards his left side then. “I have some that are naughtier but I wanted to display what I find erotic—not what I think other people might judge to be.” She admitted and curved her finger to beckon him to look and follow still. “You did a fine job.” He praised with a curious eyebrow and moved in her direction once more. Isabela then turned and pointed to a charcoal drawing on the center of the next wall. A woman draped in a well textured lawn with the outline of her large breasts were visible. Her aureoles were a faint shadow, nipples, tight little pebbles. And lower, the shadow of her pubic mound was little more than a hint—the tease of something there but not quite defined. “That’s me.” She told him. Tempest’s eyes dawned on the extravagant charcoal drawing and he groaned ---actually groaned. “F***.” Startled, Isabela stared between him and then to her own handiwork. “What? You don’t like it? I think it’s lovely.” Turning so that they faced each other, barely an inch between them, Tempest gazed down at her. As many times as she teased and taunted – could she not tell how his blood boiled to have her skin under his? She was lucky they were alone in this little cove now; for he took one of her hands in his and guided it between his legs---to where he was hot and heavy and hard for her. “It is lovely, Isabela.” His voice scratched from deep in his chest. “Feel how lovely I think it is.” Brown eyes brightened. Sultry lips parted, as Isabela rubbed the aching length of him with her palm. “Oh. That’s lovely.” Like a flame ignited from an ember, Tempest leaned into her and ravished her mouth. His arms tightened around her, not allowing her much room to move as he sucked her tongue and bit that full lower lip. His thoughts dwindled from that point onward, but he just could not register anything beyond what a sneaky little vixen she was. He knew then that this must have been her plan all along; to lure him close and bend him so desperate just to have a taste of her. And she tasted of warmth and honeyed rum. Her well experienced tongue rubbed against his to match in contrast and skill of what each other knew in how to kiss. Tempest tried to be gentle, but even so the delicate fabric of her well-tested blouse tore under his enthusiasm. In the blink of an eye, the bloodmage tore his mouth away from her. “I’m sorry.” Isabela looked to him with lust glittering from underneath those heavy lids. Her hand below never ceased in rubbing him while her opposite reached up to grab the back of his neck and pull him towards her. “You are forgiven… But only if… you do not stop.” Tempest growled, sinking his mouth back down to hers and the two lowered down onto the floor. He wanted—needed—to have this seductress pinned underneath him. He didn’t care how but eventually he was going to have her in every way each portrait she teased him with revealing.   Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

01/20/2022 10:46 PM  A Tevinter Ball. 1x1/Voice of the Sea Current mood:  accomplished A Tevinter Ball. 1x1 w/ Voice of the Sea   Video: “Russian Waltz Music" By: The Culture Society (Unofficially) ___________________________________ The one thing about the people of Tevinter: they never stopped caring about the architecture of their true home. The buildings down the main street of Minrathous still had to this day the original decorative carvings all intact of their ivory pillars. The window stained glass always kept its bright original colors and patterns. Every once in a while, the outside of some of the middle-class houses might have needed a fresh coat of paint or a rotten board to be replaced but nothing about the original design of each building was ever changed. Better even still, the cobblestone streets all still kept their original stones. Despite his upbringing…and even despite his exile, Tempest had a great love for his original home. It was far more understanding than the Southern lands. Here in Tevinter, a mage was praised upon for his talent and allowed to live outside of a college to spend time with family or try their hand at politics. In the Southern lands, a mage was looked upon with caution and sometimes even fear. Good luck trying to escape a Circle; if one was ever put there, they would rot there. The only solution would be to run from the Circle life and be marked as an apostate. One could possibly live that life without too much worry. Some Templars or mage-hunters would give an apostate the benefit of the doubt and allow them to live in peace. But for someone like Tempest?—A bloodmage?—Not a chance in hell. In most cases, he would be killed on the spot if he did not have shackles around his wrists and/or his mouth sewn shut. Ironically, he would not be praised for his talent beyond Tevinter and Tevinter wants nothing to do with him. It was a wonder that he even got inside Tevinter. He had to use a fake name with fake passports just to get over the boarder. It’s not like it was never done before, but Tempest was not ignorant to his situation. He knew he would be killed on the spot just as easily within his own home as he would have been outside of it. It all came down to a matter of who still remembered his face and who was actually involved with his exile. He did have a reason for returning home, and it wasn’t just for a possible death wish. He had a big tip from the Charlatans in the Obsidian Isles that one of the cult members he sought after, had returned home from the war against the Qunari over in Seheron. That was a lot of sailing just to return home in a pine box. There was no way that Tempest was about to believe that the man returned home as a corpse and even if so, Tempest intended on making sure he would become an even ‘deader’ corpse. Though, for now, he tried not to think on old memories that brought only discomfort and sadness to him. He wanted to enjoy at least some of his stay at home. It had been too long since he heard any true authentic Tevinter musicians. He missed the food, the drinks and especially the dances. Not those fancy, over the top ballroom dances; no. He missed the street dances where bodies would glide across the air as if they were flying and magic carried them across the walls. He remembered one time, a true player of the arts carried his dance across the ceiling as a child. He never had such happiness again after his sixth birthday. He remembered it like being in a home similar to the one he was in now. The walls were painted white. The windows were tall enough to cover a front panel and marked with stained class and silver boarders. The floor was designed from cracked marble and every ivory pillar had the carvings of an apostle to the Maker of the True Divine. A lush red carpet marked the large dance hall that remained in the center of the room; surrounded by long tables. Each window here was draped with red velvet curtains that were left open and touched the floor. Everything was rich. Extravagant. Expensive. Enigmatic. Tempest just knew that there was a basement somewhere connected from here to a secret passage. Where beyond that, there would be a torture chamber of sorts or perhaps a drug operation that cooked up lyrium on the side ---or perhaps both! It was not always the case, but sometimes it was. He just had to find the owner to talk shop with them. If he could get an inside route from Tevinter to the Obsidian Isles, everything up until this point for him would have been finally at a head. It wasn’t really a money issue, though—it was about murder—and Tempest had plenty of targets here. He just had to remove their masks, see them for who they were and confirm if they had anything to do with his trauma as a child. Needless to say, everything about home made him just as excited as he was nervous. The music was playing a soothing melody. People were talking amongst themselves at the long tables across each side of the room. Some were dancing to the tune that was playing. Tempest needed to mingle. There was so much that might have changed since was last in Tevinter and it was high time that he found some informants for himself on the inside. At least he was dressed for the part. Everyone was in their fancy gowns and robes. One could tell which were the City Guards and Personal Guards by the suit of armor that they were and the sigil across their breastplates. Tempest was actually in a black and white doublet with the ruffles at the cuffs and a silver peac*ck feather pin that was painted blue to stand out, pinned across his right side that actually pinpointed where his heart remained. (His was not placed at the center, like every other normal human.) He endured wearing tights, marking him more as an expensive business merchant from elsewhere. It also indicated in the sligh hint that he didn’t have magic –--which would be a lie; but he was actually trying to lay low in a city that would be quick to kill him. Yes; he couldn’t wait to be out of those tight clothes and back into clothing that made sense to him. He still carried with him the necklace of the Tevinter Imperium Dragon, and with it concealed a hidden needle-prick dagger in case of emergencies. Beyond that, he didn’t carry any weapons on him---as a bloodmage, he didn’t really need to carry anything. It would have mostly been for the peace of mind and to throw off a person’s expectations of him. Tempest did enjoy it when he was underestimated… An elven servant carrying a silver tray of wine passed by him and Tempest grabbed a crystal glass as he made his way across the room to mingle. He was a man who blended in easily usually. He had the rugged good looks of a poor man out for adventure but also the noticeable proud genetics of a fine bloodline. In his family, there had always been the strong nose –which he had broken and reset a few times—and the strong chin that marked good breeding. His eyebrows were thick and full and his deep blue eyes pulled back a few traces of crows feet when he smiled; thus showing more to his age and experience but his youth remained spry; for a bloodmage has a tendency to age much slower than a mage of any other talent. Despite his years, it did look as though he came to the point where he stopped aging completely; and such genetics proved to have been a closer bloodline to the High Archon, the current ruler of the entire Empire. Therefore, building families all boiled down to genes and his were desired when strengthening them. If his Mother had not been so angry with him to have him in exile, he would have proven to be an excellent bargaining chip for larger lands and bigger titles. Sadly, all of this would go to waste. “I say! After last year’s inflation due to gold fraud, it’s nice to see that some familiar faces will be returning back to the Magistrate!” One Imperial noble remarked another royal guest next to him. “We should really be focusing more on our own trades than hunting down those barbaric qunari.” “They’re the ones who brought the fight to us. We’re not about to just bow down to a bunch of foreigners from across the sea, are we?” The second man remarked and took a wine glass from one of the revolving trays that the servant elves were carrying. “No, sir! I will not stand for it. Neither should the Empire.” “I’m not saying to hand ourselves over to them. I simply mean we have bigger problems on our own to worry about. Let them at least cross the raging sea before coming here.” The first man argued. “Why not meet them halfway?” Tempest remarked and jumped right into the conversation. He curled his left arm under his right elbow and drank from his cup. He waited for both men to look at him oddly, of course before continuing. “The High Archon should create a naval force strong enough to withstand the Qunari’s might dreadnaughts. It shouldn’t be too impossible to create and it may provide more job opportunities for the citizens at home. This is a war, after all.” He could see their little wheels in their heads turning to the idea. Just another suggestion from someone they met at a royal ball. They may even get a bonus in their paychecks if it was mentioned to the High Archon at some time, but that was not Tempest’s goal. He was looking for opportunities to plant more of his spies… Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all 0 Comments

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