Chapter Text
Phil’s always been used to looks being thrown his way.
Glares, staring, a wary glance, attention being placed on him for a multitude of reasons. Not all of them are always good.
Usually, he attracts attention and looks because he’s a pirate , a well known one, at that. Other times, it’s because he’s causing trouble, wrapped up in a fist fight in the middle of a marketplace, yelling swears at an idiot who thought trying to pickpocket him was a good idea.
This time, Phil gets stares for the child in his arms.
“We’ve got the whole marketplace to choose from, mate.” Phil murmurs, Tommy babbling from where he’s resting against Phil’s shoulder. “Today might be a long day. ‘Specially since we’re stocking up to settle down, now.”
Never did he think he’d do something like this, with the life he leads. Leaving the sea is a horrid thing to think of, and he’d much rather drown in the ocean’s embrace rather than stay on land for the rest of his life. He’s a pirate. A pirate, though and though, and being a pirate means staying at sea, staying with that freedom to do as he wishes, travel where he wishes.
For once, Phil will step back, and allow for that freedom to fade out of sight. It’s a painful sacrifice, but maybe it’s one well made. Technoblade and Wilbur are determined on their goal, and how could Phil ever leave them behind?
Besides, Tommy is well worth giving up the sea for just a year. He’s too cute for Phil to turn away from. Now that they’ve all decided on keeping the kid, Phil will absolutely love him until the day he dies, and then into the afterlife. He’ll make a great pirate once he’s older.
The marketplace is loud and busy, crowds of people passing left and right with shopkeepers yelling out from their doors and stalls. They call out deals and offers and Phil hears arguments of trading and prices. There’s fruit and treats at one stall and shiny trinkets at another. Tommy babbles on through it all, not seeming too interested in the people, but curious at the objects they offer.
Although the street is swarming with townspeople and travelers from the sea, Phil walks easily, anyone in his path quickly stepping to the side. As the first person recognizes him, it’s not long before the second one does too, and then the third, and then several, and then it’s the whole street, the whole crowd, town, it feels like, staring at him as he walks through the market with his child in his arms.
They regard him with fear and respect and a lot of confusion, which Phil expected. But he’s also going to lean in on that fear. He hasn’t got an ounce of gold on him, nothing at all, but today, he’s going to walk away with plenty of things without money.
He doesn’t need money, really. He’s got a knife in his pocket and this child in his arms, that’s good enough. With his reputation, with the right threat, anything is his. He’s never been one to be all that greedy, but for today, he’s craving some loot.
Techno and Wilbur have gone their separate ways to get supplies for the trip and where they’ll end up settling. Food, seeds, tools, everything that might be needed. And if they forget anything, then they’ll manage.
They’ll pick a far off island in the middle of nowhere, someplace quiet and undisturbed. If the sea is kind, then no one will find themselves sailing there. And if by chance they get unwanted visitors, then they’ll be sure to keep their guns on them.
Whispers follow Phil as he scans the street looking for a good shop to start, and he can hear bits and pieces of people who are far too curious about a man who’s just trying to shop, dammit.
So what if Phil is a legendary pirate who’s been rumored to be so deadly that he could kill you with just a single look? That is hardly Phil’s problem. He’s just here to get the kid some clothes.
“Bah!” Tommy kicks his legs against Phil, his attention caught by something at a nearby stall.
Phil slows, looking at what it might be, and he sees that it’s just a simple fruit stand, watermelon on display.
“Hungry, mate?” Phil asks, Tommy seeming zeroed in on a particular slice of watermelon. It’d make sense for the kid to have a bit of an appetite right now. They didn’t have many choices on the ship other than measly carrots and some fish. Tommy had seemed rather unimpressed with the menu, and had made it known by refusing to eat it, even with all three pirates trying to coax him to have just a little.
What an image. Phil almost snorts at the memory of it. Three terrifying pirates of the seas, pleading with a single child they had found by chance. It’s somehow a sweet thought, with the way they’re rumoured to be unkind and brutal, yet being so loving towards something so young.
Phil makes his way towards the fruit stall, picking up a slice of watermelon and holding it up to Tommy, who takes it with eager hands. He squeals, chomping down on the fruit and trying his hardest to eat as much as he can. Phil thinks that one slice should be good enough for the time being. It’ll hold him.
“Hey.” Someone grunts out, clearly unhappy. “You got to pay for that, you know.” Phil turns his attention to the person who’s selling the fruit, and he gives a sharp smile.
“Really?” Phil asks, as if he honestly didn’t know. “I don’t have anything on me.”
The stallholder only frowns, huffing. They seem strong, tall, and Phil takes a step back and considers where exactly he’d need to strike to be done with this. The neck seems like the best choice.
Before anything can go down, though, the neighboring stallholder steps in with a quick save.
“It’s okay, that’s okay!” They say, voice thick with an accent Phil can’t place. “It happens, no worries. You can go, sir.” They offer a kind smile, and Phil grins back, but it’s more of a flash of teeth rather than a returning smile.
“Thank you.” Phil nods, and he turns and walks away, hearing protest behind him. A quick, short argument breaks out behind him, and it quiets down as soon as the words ‘Angel of Death’ are uttered.
The very words seem to echo around the street, and suddenly Phil hears it over and over again, pointing fingers and wide eyes and people stepping away.
Tommy chomps down happily on his watermelon slice. He’s making a mess on his face with it, but he looks so content with eating it, so Phil just keeps a hand hovering in case the kid drops it, and continues to walk on his merry way.
He spots a clothing store, outfits shown off in the windows, with a few people standing inside. Phil pauses in the street, and it’s as if everyone around him is holding his breath, waiting for what he’ll do, what terrible thing he’ll commit.
Phil almost wants to laugh at the way everyone’s on edge. He also wants to fire a gun into the sky and watch them scatter.
Better not, though. Might spook Tommy.
He goes on into the shop, hearing the light ding of a bell over his head as he steps inside. A few people glance at him, and then take a double look, staring at his attire and at the kid in his arms, whose face is a mess of watermelon. Phil knows very much how he looks. It’s not as if he spends money to look nice, he just wears whatever isn’t ripped from battle.
He also knows very much how Tommy looks. He’s adorable. Everyone should absolutely give him a double look.
“Hello.” Phil greets, and he walks more into the store, glancing around at the fabrics put away in shelves and the outfits on mannequins. The people inside the store quickly file out as if Phil’s told them to leave or he’ll end their bloodline. Maybe that’s just what his reputation naturally implies.
There’s a single poor soul that’s frozen by the front counter, left behind by their other partners who seem to have run off to hide in the backrooms.
“I- Good afternoon!” She chirps out, chipper and yet terrified. Phil doesn’t even look at her, instead humming at looking at a piece of fabric to the side.
“I need clothes for the little one.” Phil says, tilting his head back, looking up at more fabric on the shelves. There’s so much. Phil wonders how it is, working here, fixing up outfits. It must be fun. He thinks he’d get bored with it after a while, though. “Plenty of ‘em.” He clarifies, setting his eyes on the worker, finally. She seems to pale underneath his gaze.
“Of- Of course.” She nods. “I’m sure we have some shirts for his size, there are plenty of youngins in the town, so we have- some of it in the back.” She clears her throat.
Phil stares for a moment, watching her seem to nearly burst into tears right there. “Bring it out.” He says, shrugging and looking around some more. He moves his attention onto Tommy, trying to clean his face a little.
“Of course.” The worker whispers, running off with a beating heart, hoping that someone will come take this pirate out of her shop.
---
A pirate walks into a jewelry store with a gun in his pocket.
This sounds like some sort of weird set up to a joke. It’s actually just Wilbur.
There’s a tattered hood over his head, covering his face somewhat as he walks in. Technically, he knows this is a poorly made plan. Technically, he should not be doing this.
However, technically, he doesn’t give a shit. He needs more jewels, only the best, only the most expensive, beautiful rocks that this little town can offer. And frankly, he knows there’s not going to be much to offer.
There had been a few guards outside, which were easy enough to take care of, with Wilbur walking up to them and screaming about how there was a stabbing in some alleyway down the road. He likes to say he’s a good actor. He had been crying and everything. Past the panic of a fake situation like that, people flocked over to see if there was indeed an injured person somewhere.
There was not. Wilbur has like five minutes to grab shit and then book it back to the docks.
This is such a poorly made robbery, but it’s not as if he needs much. Little Phil Jr. just needs a few diamonds, just a few sapphires, as a ‘welcome to the family’ present. There is nothing more caring and considerate than stolen gems that are worth hundreds.
So he walks in, all confidence with the hood pulled nearly over his eyes, his boots clicking against the stone ground. He walks right up to the counter, pulls his gun, and grins with something wild.
“This is a robbery!” He chimes, giving a charming little smile.
---
“I’m going to need men to move this to the docks.” Technoblade says, turning over a silver sword in his hands, observing it. Should he keep this? He has plenty, though…
“Uh- Sir?” The man beside him falters, and Techno goes still, lifting his eyes with a near frown. The room seems to feel just a little colder. “I mean- which ship is yours?” The man quickly corrects, glancing back at the others with a nervous look. They all pretend to be inspecting the crates of items.
Techno stares for a moment, but then hums, throwing the sword to the side. He doesn’t need that. “Blue and white flag with a star looking shape.” He says off-handedly, looking to the next weapon on the ground. They all begin to move to take the items towards the docks.
He’s been rather productive in terms of gathering supplies. With enough fear and intimidation, anyone could rally up a bunch of goons to do their bidding. It’s what Techno did, and it’s working out well.
Mostly well. The downside of having a bunch of goons means his name is going to be thrown around town, and that results in guards heading his way to try and arrest him.
Emphasis on the try.
Technoblade steps over another unconscious body on the ground, picking up their dropped weapon and inspecting it with curiosity. Maybe he could keep this one? Or should he just take them all? How old does the kid really need to be to learn sword fighting, again?
“You!” Someone yells, Technoblade lifting his head in acknowledgement but not taking his eyes off the sword in his hands. He’s still trying to consider Tommy learning to fight. Would it be simpler to start off with a gun, rather than a sword? “Pirate!”
“That’s me.” Techno mutters, turning around and facing three men who seem set on dragging him to the gallows. “Only three? Are you people running out of men?” He glances down at the several bodies sprawled out at his feet. “Well, maybe you are, actually.”
They pull their guns with some sort of threat, and Technoblade is faster than their aim. By the time they raise their pistols up in his direction, he’s got his sword in hand, and he’s up in their face with the blade far too close.
A few minutes pass. Three more men are added to the pile of defeats. Technoblade continues looking through their weapons.
---
“Oh, you look adorable.” Phil laughs, holding Tommy’s hands up into the air as he observes the new shirt he wears. It’s plain and white but it fits, and it’s clean. “Much better than before, huh?”
Phil really wonders who in their right mind would ever leave this kid behind in a ship, alone and scared. He runs his fingers through Tommy’s hair, finds it to be dirty and greasy. He’ll need a bath soon enough, but they’ll find time for it.
“Should I pack this up then, sir?” The worker asks, folded clothes in her arms, all in Tommy’s size. It’ll be enough for the next year.
“Mhm.” Phil nods, grinning wide as Tommy grabs up at him, trying to touch his hair. “Hi, mate.” Phil greets, wanting to just say hello over and over again to that little face.
Tommy squeals up at him, kicking his feet against the table. This spot is supposed to be for having fabrics on display, but those have been put to the side so Tommy’s got a place to sit that isn’t the dirty ground.
Phil hums, tilting his head and looking at Tommy. He could do with something more. Maybe a piece of jewelry, he knows Wilbur would love to see that. He wonders if Tommy would like to get his ears pierced when he’s older.
Right now, Phil doesn’t have any spare jewelry on him, but he does know what to add to give a little something more.
“Turn around, mate.” Phil says, turning Tommy and keeping him close. Tommy babbles on like he’s really responding, and he keeps trying to look at Phil, even though Phil pushes him to look forward. “I’m giving a braid, Tommy, stay still.” Phil laughs, Tommy still turning to look at him. Phil manages anyway.
Just a small braid, woven just beside the back of the kids neck. Almost like Wilbur’s braids.
Oh, the second Wilbur realizes he can braid Tommy’s hair, he won’t leave him be.
“Alright.” Phil nods, fussing with Tommy’s hair for a moment more before finally letting Tommy turn around and continue looking up at him. “Now you’re a proper pirate.”
“Mn.” Tommy nods, but it’s not as if he really knows what Phil is saying. He can understand through his loving look, though.
Phil laughs, quiet and breathless, brushing Tommy’s hair back and kissing the top of his head. “We should get going. I think I’ve got what I need.” He picks up Tommy from the table, holding him close against his chest. “Don’t tell Techno or Wilbur, but I basically got the easy job. All I had to do was babysit.”
Tommy makes some sort of childish noise, and Phil smiles with the sound of it, turning to the worker behind him.
“I put them in the bags here…” She points to the ground, and Phil leans down, taking them in his arms while still keeping Tommy held. “They’re, uhm. The total should be-”
“I don’t got a coin on me.” Phil says, staring down at the bags and deeming them good enough. He smiles up at the worker. “We can consider this a gift, yeah?”
The woman doesn’t seem to agree, but her eyes flick to the child in Phil’s arms, and Phil’s smile goes a little sharp.
“Right.” She says quickly, giving a short nod.
“Great! Have a good day, mate!” Phil calls out, going out the door without any trouble. The bell dings overhead and Tommy makes a noise of curiosity at hearing it.
The street outside is just as busy as when he got here. The crowd is a bit better now though, he supposes he arrived at a rush time. And yet, he still had that entire little shop to himself for the better part of an hour. Strange.
Phil hums, looking around at the stalls and wondering if he should grab another slice of fruit for Tommy. They did just get new clothes, it’d be a shame to stain them, but Tommy had loved that watermelon…
“PHIL!” Someone shrieks from down the street, and Phil turns his head with a slight frown, Tommy chewing on his fist. They both watch as Wilbur sprints down the road with a wide grin and at least seven guards on his heels. “Nice weather we’re having-!” Wilbur screams, quickly passing within moments.
Phil watches him go with only a bit of concern. He doesn’t seem injured. Seems like he’s having fun, if anything. If he meets up at the docks with Techno, then he’ll be fine.
He goes to get Tommy another piece of fruit.