revivalprojectooc | Pirate AU Meme

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Pirate AU Meme

EARTH-1700

a golden age of piracy
Time for a piratey AU! 

It's the golden age of piracy, and you've found yourself on a boat. Either doing some of that pirating, trying to catch those dastardly pirates, or feasting on unwitting sailors who were lured by your siren song. Figure out what it is, quick, because here come some scenarios!

1.Man the guns!
Your ship is under attack! Or...you're doing the attacking! Either way, you've got your weapon in hand, something is on fire, and we're definitely taking on water. Avast, ruffians!

2. Booty!
You've got yourself a map with a big X on it, your trusty shovel, and a dream. Will you find a chest of gold, or just a cave full of snakes? Or maybe you have your own treasures that need burying, with the king's men hot on your heels...

3. Swab the deck!
Day to day life aboard the ship can be its own adventure. There's sails to man and anchors to weigh and the food is running out and actually the last of the beer just fell overboard...

4. Marooned!
Your seafaring has gone absolutely sideways, and either you've run aground, or been cast off the ship for your crimes. Now you're faced with a deserted island, and have to survive! 

Post with your character and some idea of their high seas alternate life. It doesn't have to be historically accurate, and can definitely be fantastical.

Find a crew and climb aboard!

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[rubs my little paws

Tony the Heartless (Anthony? Stark?....Tony?), pirate of some infamy. Fancy society family so he could have some upstanding connections, he was kidnapped for ransom by pirates himself and, according to the stories, blew up a whole fleet to escape and built his own crew out of the wreckage.

Probably doesn't run his own ship because he is an absolute lush, but if you can get him to focus he will build you boats/make terrifying weapons/is probably something like a boatswain of your crew if you can keep him in whisky.

Seeking: weird sea creatures, alarmingly sexually charged sword fights, hilarious pirate society conventions that we just made up]

[One Armed Buck/Bucky/James

Despite having only one arm (the story of how he lost it is ever changing as people expand on rumors) Bucky is exceptionally skilled with a blade or a gun, and a prolific killer. He doesn't speak much, and has a hard stare for anyone that gets too close.

Seeking: Fights, sexy times, a good stare down, a tiny friend]

Edited 2022-04-25 23:37 (UTC)

[A flashback...

The fog was thick, bringing with it an unseasonable chill. The skies seemed grayer, suddenly more overcast, and even the sound of the lapping waves that swept past the ship's hull were muted despite the constant rocking.

The shouts of alarm came first from the crow's nest, prompting a number of the crew towards the fo'c'sle as they pointed and strained to see anything past the fog. And then came a glimpse- a silhouette darker than a shadow, jagged mastheads pointing accusatory, broken fingers towards the skies, tattered sails that billowed and whipped despite the lack of a breeze. The creak of old wood as the hull finally came into view, a once graceful figurehead damaged and warped into a mangled corpse of her former glory. Strange lines of red wrapped and wove about the carved figure and all the way along and through the ship from bow to stern, seeming to glow and pulse angrily in the haze.

Alarm took a swift turn towards panic once realization struck the crewmembers, prompting a mad scramble into chaos.]

[Bucky squinted through the fog in disbelief, stunned into stillness for a moment before he too struck into action. They were just stories. This shouldn't be possible. But possible or not it was happening, and Bucky tried to push that panic down. He found the nearest canon and started readying it, determined not to go down without a fight.

If they were going to die they might as well try to take them with them.

[Others had also moved to man the cannons, a split between those who had opted to make for the oars and try gaining some distance in hopes that a wind would come up again to catch their sails.

It wasn't clear who yelled first to fire, but at this point with nerves on the very edge, it didn't take much for one shot to go off and others to follow. Naturally the first fell well short of the Obsidian Wings, the black ship cutting through the water like an oil slick. The oars seemed to be dispatched at a painfully slow pace, even slower did the ship seem to finally start turning as sailors heaved at them to begin their retreat.

The dark ship was soon in better range, but was coming straight at the turning vessel. At least it gave them a clear shot with their cannons, but it as no position any ship wanted to be in.]

[Catra... the...Cat. IDK, throw me some better pirate names, lol.

Catra's a scrappy little bastard. She tried to organize a mutiny on her last ship, and found herself ousted to a deserted island.

She thinks she should be the Captain, but hasn't found a crew yet who will follow her, no matter how she threatens them.

Seeking: A crew, a rescue from her island, songs and drink.]

Edited 2022-04-25 23:37 (UTC)

[L'uomo di Mistero

Beck was slighted once by Tony long before he became a pirate. He left his life behind to become a pirate himself and track Stark down, joining his crew. He has yet to enact his revenge because Tony doesn't seem to recognize him.

Seeking: drinking, murder, revenge]

Edited 2022-04-25 23:43 (UTC)

[William

A hostage, this is very much not William's world, but despite being a captive, he finds the whole thing kind of exciting. He wonders even if maybe he might stay once he has his freedom?

Seeking: Captive, pirate lessons!, drinking lol, sea sickness.]

Edited 2022-04-25 23:49 (UTC)

There definitely wasn't always a boy on this boat. Tony was pretty sure he would have accounted for that, in some way, and yet here one was, puking down the side of his hull, like it was some common alleyway. He came to a stop a few feet away, squinting in the sun and letting the gentle rock of the ship sway him perilously over with the tilt of his head and the weight of the bottle in his hand, grimacing and waiting for a break in this rude defoulement.

"You better clean that up," he greeted.

It was true. There definitely wasn't.

William gripped the side of the ship, looking down at the waves below with a pale face, queasiness not leaving him despite having emptied what was left in his stomach.

"Wh-?" His head turned. Too fast. He groaned and rested his forehead against the wooden rail with a groan. "And how would I do that?"

The kid was too pale yet for Tony to risk getting any closer, nose wrinkling even more at the pallor than it had at the sick. He still gladly volunteered, "That's a matter of debate," clearly brightening for being asked. "Some of these idiots insist a mop over the rail gets the job done well enough, others think that you have to climb down there yourself with a rag to give it a proper clean. You'll have to agree that most people who find themselves getting sick over a boat and regularly in the position of cleaning it are not very smart, and their solutions are uninspired."

"Are hostages regularly in that positi- oh god-" William cut off with a groan, heaving again. "...How long until I get used to the waves?" he half groaned, half pleaded.

Oh, a hostage made a lot more sense than a kid talking his way onto the crew who didn't even have the stomach to sail out of port. Tony slowly nodded as he took this in, though he wasn't sure what exactly they were doing with the hostage, and had to assume it wasn't really his business. Except for the part where it was staining his ship.

"That depends on your tolerance," Tony answered, raising the bottle he carried, clearly not meaning anyone's tolerance for the rock of the boat. "Drink enough that you can't feel it, after a while you stop feeling much of anything, and you forget that it was a problem."

[Mystery and fear often accompany any mention of Felwinter, as though uttering his name will summon him, and those who find themselves in his presence are inevitably doomed. Many a ship has been left ravaged in the wake of an encounter with his ship, the Obsidian Wings, a sleek black corsair that might have once been considered handsome, now sailing impossibly by ragged, dark sails, its entirety striated by pulsing lines of red like bulging, exposed veins of some living creature.

Stories and rumors generally agree that once the dreadlord was a privateer. Misfortune fell upon him upon the seizure of a cursed cargo that more or less devoured his crew and has enslaved Felwinter to seek out other ships to prey upon them, to satiate, if only briefly, its gnawing hunger.

(wait where are you goinggggg)

[Did Felwinter take Bucky's arm?]

[~~An hors d'oeuvre~~]

[I'm mostly doing this because I want to write an AU down and how dare there be AUs about. Also, who brings a Naval Officer into a Pirate setting? THIS PERSON

Echo has been in the Navy as long as he can remember, working his way up the ranks and becoming one of the best sailors they can ever have aboard their lofty vessels. Except his highly-esteemed career was upended when things went awry upon the open seas, becoming a shadow of a man he used to be.

Although his privateer connections ultimately casts him among pirates, he still pulls his weight as part of the crew. And with his previous experience, it proves valuable when it comes down to the risks taken to attack the ships they come across.

Outside of the business, he's just salty]

[Who's this freeloader? Was he always aboard this ship? Can't say he's a bad scout, keeps a sharp eye out when he's up in the crowsnest and not goofing off gambling with the crew. One can't deny he's a crack shot in a fix. Some might question his sanity because he's usually in the company of a fine-feathered brown chicken- others warn that the chicken helps him cheat at cards.

Or maybe you've happened upon him, marooned on an island after getting booted off of his latest ship, accused of some nonsense or another. He's either building sandcastles or writing some condemning things about the last captain that had left him to his boredom.]

"Caduceus."

There wasn't supposed to be anybody on this island. This island was, as described, deserted, and up until now, as Tony rounded the perimeter, it had been exactly as advertised. He should have known.

"On vacation again?" he guessed, slightly hopeful, maybe a little guarded, and only turning a little bit away to put himself between Cayde and the map he carried. He didn't come prepared for competition, and he definitely couldn't go back to the ship worse than when he left it.

"Aren't I always?" came the rather chipper reply as he stabbed a stick into a mound of sand that might have been an attempt at a tower. Cayde stepped back, gave the chicken on his shoulder a pat and then squinted up at the sun.

"You out sightseeing, Heartbreaker?" he asked, looking down at his creation and the thin shadow of the twig.

"Real estate scouting. Trying to stay ahead of the market," Tony answered, eyeing the sand tower skeptically and risking a few very casual steps closer. "What was it this time? Cheat the captain at cards? Have the chicken pull rank?" he wondered. If it wasn't a kind of story that would be rolling in with the tides, maybe Tony could bring Cayde back to the ship without too many hairy eyeballs.

Dropping down to a squat, Cayde marked a divot in the sand with the tip of his finger where the shadow fell before squinting off into the sparse beginnings of overgrowth a stone's throw away. The chicken fluttered her wings as he abruptly stood up again, and he gathered Colonel in his arms, giving her a fond scratch under her beak.

"Wasn't that bad! I found out where the good stuff was being kept so we had ourselves a drinking party. How was I supposed to know the captain doesn't like sharing?"

"'We'?" Tony echoed suspiciously, then followed Cayde's gaze into the bush, trying to work out what to expect next. Overall not the worst thing Cayde could have done, not something that would be starting rumours at the next port, anyway, so maybe Tony didn't have to leave him here to his own devices. "You and your mate there?" He didn't see anyone else on this beach who might have been tossed overboard for indulging in the private stores, after all.

"Wellll okay, mostly me," Cayde admitted. He reached behind him and pulled out a slim bottle yet sealed. "But I didn't feel too bad about keeping this after I got dropped off here," he shrugged.

"That way's got the best ocean view, by the way. I'd put a big picture window facing right there."

Tony was immediately less curious about anything else Cayde was doing or had done to get here, tracking the bottle like it was all the treasure he needed this island to offer to be satisfied. "What--window?" he asked, and had to remind himself what nonsense he had spouted before he could properly respond, "And have to wake up to you staring in at me every two weeks? Definitely not. You'll scare the guests away."

"What are you saying- I would be complimentary to that picturesque view. You'd be waking up to a framed, perfect piece of art every morning."

Cayde waggled the bottle a bit, the sudden attention it had gotten not lost on him in the least.

"Absolutely not. You're either going to have to finally agree to marry me, or stop getting ejected. Whichever produces a more stable lifestyle," Tony insisted, letting Cayde's waggling lure him closer yet across the sand. "What's the parting gift, then? Worth the sand in your parts?"

Cayde laughed. "Stability's for the unadventurous. I like going with the wind and rolling with the punches. Makes things more exciting." He held the bottle out as though to let the chicken inspect it, and she did so with a dainty peck. "-the who wha now?"

And left him regularly without a ship, which Tony shouldn't have had to point out and had him glancing around the lonely beach with a raised eyebrow. He sidled closer yet as Cayde raised the bottle, less wary of the map tucked in his belt then to drape an arm around Cayde's shoulders and reach to pluck the lure away with the same daintiness as his bird. "You're supposed to know what direction the wind is blowing. Maybe that's why you're such a terrible pirate," he suggested.

Colonel fluttered and dropped down to the sand. Three's company, etc, etc. She pecked at the sand around Cayde's little mound. As Tony reached for the bottle, Cayde slunk his hand over for the map that was in danger of being plucked up by any winds, for shame!

"Wind blows where it wants. I'm in the process of figuring out where at the moment," he said, gesturing slightly with the bottle since it was in hand. "And I am an excellent pirate. I know where the important stuff is!" The trade-off happened then, punctuated with his last words as he let Tony have the bottle while he spun away, map fluttering in his grasp. Cayde let the map fall open as he came out of his spin, holding it up as he looked it over. Well, Tony had his lures and Cayde had his, to be sure.

Cayde's piracy excellence became a difficult point to argue as Tony instead was burgled and had to complain, "Hey!" free hand on his hip that had been so viciously attacked. "If you wanted love letters, you shouldn't have told me to stop writing them." If the map was a love letter, it was a particularly artistic one, illustrated with incredible precision that looked more like the schematics of a new ship than a cartographer's looser interpretation, and pointing directly to the heart of the island. And without it, Tony was left turning an accusatory frown at the bottle, like it had been the villain all along.

"Oooh, now this is a map," Cayde said in delighted commentary as he looked over the thing. He peeked between the page and the scenery beyond and around them, head tilted in deep consideration.

"I'm sure half of those letters are still out to sea or twelve leagues below it anyway," he said, turning the map upside-down and then right-side up again. Glancing down at his sand mound, he studied it for a moment before stooping down beside the chicken to mark off where the tip of the shadow had moved. He regarded it with a thoughtful hum, turned himself to stand parallel to the line of stones and then dropped his eyes to the map again. "Out that way is north, which means we're starting out about this side of the island. Soooo... if we keep the beach at our backs and head in this way we should come close to the landmarks over here," he suggested, tracing a finger along the map.

"I'm sure," Tony corrected primly, nose up like he had any kind of pride to defend, "the ladies who eventually received them instead all keep them carefully tucked away." More likely burned, for being a cruel final communication before Tony disappeared. Or maybe for the part where he clearly had been writing to a man with a chicken. Tony gave up on that pride, without a hint of it to bolster him, head dropping to uncork the pilfered bottle and give it a proper inspection while Cayde worked out what Tony had already figured. "Who's 'we' this time? You and my map? I don't recall hiring a crew," he complained, making a boneless bid to snatch the page back away from Cayde with about as much hope as he had pride. Having Cayde along to do the heavy lifting wouldn't actually be so terrible. Tony would just have to trick him out of any spoils at the other end of the path.

At least it appeared to be a decent vintage. Whoever Cayde had managed to last set sail with had good taste. Cayde snorted, dipping down to scoop up his chicken.

"Me, Colonel, and the map makes three. If you wanna tag along then you won't be the third wheel at least." He expertly folded the map up with the fluidity of a magician's sleight of hand, deftly keeping it from Tony's grabby fingers. As though he hadn't noticed the attempt, he started to walk on towards the greenery that beckoned to them. "You were planning to do this solo? What'd you do, swim out here?"

Tony rolled his eyes toward the ocean and took his time on a long drink, like he might just stay there and wait for the sunset, or Cayde to come running back out chased by tigers, whatever came first. He had to defend, "I have a ship," though, trailing after then, even though it was more of a dinghy and a strict time limit before the actual ship left him and his stupid map behind. "I just don't need any help," was how he chose to interpret it, chin raised with more of that manufactured pride.

Cayde shrugged, not giving any sign of slowing his pace as he marched off into the island's wilderness. "Alrighty!" he said, waving a hand and the folded map. Colonel roosted on his shoulder, turning her head to direct a beady eye back at Tony, head cocking as though to ask 'you sure?'

At this rate, Tony's map was just getting further and further away.

He actually had to jog a little bit to catch up, before the tigers got to him first.

The bush was ruthless, making Tony hack at it with his sword at its worst to keep from being diverted too far off of their path, but there were several logs that he refused to touch to clamber over and gladly went hacking around instead, preferring to risk a snake than disturbing any fat beetle. He couldn't even continue to drink under these circumstances. It was a profound, sweating relief when the foliage started to thin again, the air crisper a few feet up and whistling through the leaves as they came climbing out onto a rocky hill. It didn't look like much of a natural feature, cracked and weathered but carefully flat on top, like it had been levelled, for which Tony was grateful to kneel then lay flat on his back among the few weeds and grasses that pushed up through the cracks in the rock.

On the other hand, Cayde didn't seem terribly concerned about the local fauna and whatever might be hidden amongst the flora. Deeper in, Colonel found herself tucked into her customary place in the crook of an arm as Cayde slunk under oversized leaves and hopped upon fallen logs and giant, winding tree roots. He hardly paused to glance back to check on Tony's progress, but he could hear the guy hacking and slashing away. It was only once they made it up to the hilltop that Cayde finally spared a look back, smiling crookedly as he watched Tony eventually emerge and then sink down onto the ground.

"Let's see here..." he mused, unfolding the map to refer to again after he let Colonel down. The chicken pecked around at the ground and sparse weeds before making her way over to Tony and hop up onto his stomach.

This was supposed to be a reprieve, not a welcome to roost, and Tony grumbled, "Oof, what has he been feeding you?" for the invasion, both hands coming up but clearly reluctant to actually touch the bird. It wasn't much of a reprieve, down here on the baking rocks, the shade of the dense foliage left behind as much as its cloistered humidity. Maybe it wasn't so bad that they had to head straight back in, following the steeper slope down the west side of this mound where it looked like a river had at some point worn a runnel into the earth. At this angle, staring up into the sky, Tony could clearly see the glint of the sun out of the corner of his eye, and muttered, "We're running out of time." If they kept this pace, the ship would be leaving them both behind before they could hack their way back out.

Colonel clucked softly, head cocking from one side to the other as she made herself comfortable.

"Only the clearest spring water and the finest muesli and grain," Cayde replied absently as he studied the terrain before them. He peered down the slope and back to the map with a nod. The latter was folded up careful but quick, a smirk tossed over his shoulder.

"Well whose fault is that? You're the one dawdling behind. Come on man, pick up the pace! Colonel, let's move." Spinning, he marched over to retrieve his chicken, and in afterthought held out his free hand to help haul Tony up if he accepted.

(This lady is a pirate captain! Are you one of her crew? Or maybe you are one of the creatures she and her crew encounter? Captain Amidala is always up for an adventure or two, though you will find she is quite protective of her crew.

Bring on sword fights, flirtations (what pirate isn't a flirt?) and various emergencies/discoveries!)

[Captain Amidala's ship isn't the only one to ply these particular waters within the passing hours. Scattered remnants of a ship float and bob along with the waves, the torn standard featuring naval colors plastered along the side of a slowly sinking hull.

But a sharp eye might catch the limp, red-headed form draped across one of the partially splintered boards amongst the wreck.]

Man overboard!

(The call has her attention immediately and she rushes to the side of her ship, laying her sights on the poor sailor.)

Bring him onboard. If he has passed, we can give him a proper burial, at least.

(No, she is not the sort of pirate that believes in completely decimating her foes. Rather, she is a pirate because she doesn't hold with the navy's rules and regulations.

A boat is lowered into the water with three men and they row out to collect the red-haired sailor.)

Be gentle.

[Bedraggled, exhausted, but amazingly, still alive. His breath is faint, his body cold from floating in the water for so long. He barely registers the hands that haul him out and up once they get the boat down to him. He'd discarded his jacket long before in an effort to make it easier to swim, but the rest of his clothing falls under navy specifications.

He coughs and shivers as he's eventually brought aboard, eyes flickering open, catching bleary glimpses of his surroundings.]

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Pirate AU Meme

Tony! OTA! AAAH!

Bucky | OTA

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Catra | OTA

Beck | OTA

Billy | OTA

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Felwinter // OTA

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/ECHO/ | OTA

Cayde-6 // OATS

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Padmé ~

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