@vocesofmd (cont)

It was perhaps the first time in his life that Ed didn't feel anything at all (or wasn't that how he felt in days like these, always as if it was for the first time. some days, when he got like that, he didn't want to do anything that but stare at nothing. others, he wanted to see the world burn, just like now). It was easier that way. Not caring who died, or who lived. Just the end goal. Destroy the Navy. Not just Ricky, he wasn't enough, he knew that. Every goddamn man that represented a threat to piracy. They had all heard stories of Blackbeard, even when he was the Kraken. But they had never seen him like this.

He wondered why the crew joined him. They could see who he was, what he was about to do. Maybe they wanted revenge as much as he did, maybe they wanted to stand for something for the first time in their fucking lives. Did they regret it? Did they want to leave, to plan another mutiny? Honestly, he didn't give a fuck. There were people in his crew, that were loyal to him, seeing the world as Blackbeard did. Even if the old crew didn't see it his way, they wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.

Stede was the only one that made Ed pause sometimes, made him Ed again. And god, sometimes he fucking hated him for it. The past was in the past and there he was, giving Ed glimpses of what once was. Of a completely different life. One that he had retired, opened an Inn, never killed again. One that... he was in it.

At first they fought a lot, Ed snapping at him, throwing things next to him. Stede holding his tongue at first until he didn't. Now they barely talked to each other. Maybe Stede didn't stay for Ed at all, not anymore. Maybe he stayed for his crew, for the life he wanted to lead. Maybe he wanted to make Ricky pay for what he did.

They hadn't been on land for months. Ed had only stayed a week at the cottage and then one day, he just left. Now, he was back at Nassau, to get supplies, to find new people that would join him — one bad thing about not caring who died at a raid, was that these people had to be replaced later. And Jim, weirdly not that angry at him as others were, had suggested that Blackbeard should recruit them. Who could say no to him?

As he was headed to a tavern that were supposed to be some fans of his work, Ed saw... him. He froze. Blinked to make the vision go away. It wasn't in his head. It was him. No, not him. Just someone that looked like him.

Ed followed him, wanting to kill that man for daring to look like him. He knocked the door — the polite man that he was — but when the other man did not open it right away, Ed shrugged and knocked it down. He pointed a gun at the man that... no, not the one thought he was, he kept telling himself.  

❝Alright, mate. 'gonna give ya a chance to save yourself. ❞ Poor guy, not knowing why he was even threatened by Blackbeard. Did he even know he was Blackbeard? He had the black paint around his eyes, the leathers, new scars on his bare arm, one across his collarbone.  But that fucker looked so much like the one that he wasn't supposed to, he even had one leg. If he was going for the look, he was certainly committed, Blackbeard had to give him that. ❝Tell me who the fuck are ya and why I shouldn't kill ya right now.❞