⊱ KING OF THE SEVEN SEAS.

sinbad. renegade. citta alveare.

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reclamation.

@crystalarian

　　　 One day, the corner store across the street is a nothing but a pile of rubble and scattered good. The next, it’s whole again. There is no reconstruction, no work, no effort at all. It simply is again, when it once was not. Long after the shops have closed and their keepers have returned home for the evening, Sinbad finds himself standing before the new building, pondering how it must be absolutely pristine, yet it looks the same as it always has.

　　　 Unfamiliar footsteps gently shake him from a place of deep thoughts. The person beside him is not someone he’s seen before, yet he finds himself divulging a bit of honesty. “After all this time, I’m still not sure what to make of this. This city has seen so much destruction, but you’d never know by looking at it.” Every inch, as sturdy as ever; but Sinbad knows how easily it will all fall when push comes to shove. “I’ve fought my fair share of battles here, but not once have I had to contribute to an reclamation efforts. Safehousing and rescue, yes, but never reclamation. Never rebuilding. The city rebuilds itself, time after time.” If only he could explain how it disrupts something deep within him.

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counterguardianism

@inqerad

           A wild beast stood no more. The servant had easily single handed the large wolf with the swiftness of his blades. Very little bloodshed stained his weapon, ah, but he knew he wasn’t alone despite taking down the single beast that wanted him for dinner. Archer tosses one of his blades behind, barely missing the foot of a stranger whom seemed to creep on by. “Dangerous around here don’t you think?” he comments lowly, his hand tightly holding on the other blade. He looks over his shoulder slowly, gray hues narrowed intently to keep his guard up.

　　　 These streets are dangerous for those unable to defend themselves. Far too many of the city’s inhabitants would be willing to cause one harm for the right price, or simply to shatter a perceived peace or monotony. Sinbad knows this well, knows as well that these particular streets are haunted by threats of another nature as well, and he smiles. It is dangerous, and that is precisely why he’s come here. “If you mean these creatures, I’m not too concerned.” Nor should he be with all the power he has at his disposal. “But if you meant to imply that you’re the dangerous one, I’d suggest talking over a drink before crossing blades.”

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when you say any dirty method please say you mean immoral and not nasty

any

dirty

method

[xmusiings]

Don’t underestimate 

                         the things that I W I L L do

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He hears Sin before he see him, smiling as the muffled djinn equip takes place and an audible swoosh cuts through the air in front of him. Ja’far only opens his eyes, however, after he hears him call his name softly, surprised and he grins.

Sometimes it took a lot to leave the King of the Seven Seas speechless, but he always treasured it when he managed to get an upper hand like this. Honestly his dumbfounded face is cute and reminds him of days long ago, but this isn’t the time for daydreaming about the past, not when they’re reuniting in the present like this. He offers out his hand.

“Hi Sin,” he calls casually, warmly, before a more devious gleam appears in his eyes, “Did you miss me?”

　　　 In his dreams as dramatic as any tale he’s ever written, Ja’far leaps into his king’s waiting arms to shower him with affection in a way he never does in reality. That his partner calmly smiles as Sinbad’s djinn equip evaporates around him indicates that this is not dream. Despite all that he’s thought and dreamt of in the time they’ve been apart, Ja’far soft smile is sweeter than anything he could have imagined.

　　　 Sinbad is quick to accept the hand offered to him, using it to pull Ja’far onto his feet and into a long hug. Did he miss him? Only as much as the ship misses the sea, the sail misses the wind, and the sun misses the sky. In other words, “More than you know.” This separation hasn’t been half as long as Sinbad’s last diplomatic trip overseas, yet he finds he’s missed his country, his people, and his lover more than ever before.

　　　 There is no reluctance when it comes time to break apart, as Sinbad knows he can loop his arms around Ja’far’s waist and keep him as close as he likes — and so he does. There is not but happiness and honesty on his face when he admits, “I’ve been waiting for you to come home to me. I knew you would.” And so he has — finally.

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mastersword

       It’s a bit of a relief to hear that he’s even seen a cat that looks familiar to the one he’s speaking about, even if there’s also a chance that it’s not the same one. Still, it’s better than nothing at all, so it’s something to regain some energy and not lose heart.

❝ Yeah, those ones. ❞ he nods, and nods once again at the man’s offer, ❝ Yes please. ❞

       It wouldn’t hurt to at least check the area out again, because there’s still a better chance of the feline showing back up at an area it’s been once before than just wandering around aimlessly himself, like he has been. Maybe he should speak more, but… he’s never been one for a lot of words, so he keeps it relatively simple.

❝ I’m Link, by the way. ❞ since they’ll be spending a little bit of time together, might as well get this out of the way.

　　　 The chances of the cat returning to the shop aren’t terribly low, all things considered. Sinbad does keep treats on hand for strays, after all, and there’s a fish market just down the road - cats like fish, don’t they? It’s possible it may still be in the area, if not at the Sindria Trading Co. itself.

　　　 As they approach the shop, formalities finally come into play. “Ah, that’s right. I’m Sinbad.” Whether there is any spark of recognition or not, he continues. “This here is the Sindria Trading Company headquarters, where my partner and I deal in all kinds of wares - and provide a warm welcome to any strays that happen by.”

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klarheiit

in a lot of ways, riou is still a child. it’s purely through the machinations of others that he takes the mantle of hero, and it’s that burden that forces him to face the war at that elevated pedestal. he only takes it when people look at him with hope in their eyes, when shu waxed poetic about his grandpa’s service to the state, when the rune in his hand simmered with a thirst.

and in a lot of ways, he does agree with the male. before that night, he only fought because it’s needed of him, as soldiers serving their king. if given a choice, he really would choose to live a much more peaceful life instead of throwing himself to war at the behest of his own superiors.

he pauses, idly tugging at his scarf. “ maybe that’s why they’d start a war .  to watch the world burn . it’s not the most ideal reason , but it’s theirs . “ if he sounds as though he’s defending the very notion of war, he doesn’t mean it. or maybe he just doesn’t want to believe in what he’s stated. he doesn’t want to think there were people just like…

          “ i knew someone like that too . “ he says as an afterthought, feeling the heat of prince luca’s sword slash through the air, cutting away every breath taken by his allies. it’s both figurative and literal, and in a sense, that’s how frightening he was. with blood seeping from his wounds, from his armor, from his broken, maniacal laughter filling the night sky — riou remembered feeling nothing from their last duel, from watching him finally fall to his death. 

          “ but speaking as someone who’s been a soldier , i guess , a war would be nothing more than a service, wouldn’t it ? it doesn’t need to be worth anything if it’s ordered . that’s just … unfair . ”

　　　 The very idea of war for war’s sake sickens him in body and mind, yet he must concede that the boy has a point. However terrible, people like Judar still have their reasons for stirring up trouble. It may only ever be for trouble’s own sake, seen as entertainment in the eyes of the truly fallen, but it is still a reason, if only to him and others like him. A grimace blossoms upon Sinbad’s face as he accepts this ghastly truth. “I suppose you’re right. It may be a terrible reason, but it once it’s started, it must still be fought.” Lest those in the crossfire lay down their lives for nothing but the whims of the cruelest among them.

　　　 Even having conceded that, Sinbad will not accept that such a war is worth anything but the survival of those who are forced to take part. Nothing comes of such pointless battles. No matter what happens, wars fought for the sake of fighting will only ever result in bloodshed and tragedy, and nothing more. He himself could not have been any older than the boy before him when he was approached by Parthevian commanders and told he must join such a war in three days’ time. Orders are orders, says the child, but Sinbad knows better.

　　　 As their shared experiences come to light, the conversation takes a turn into realism, departing its previous path of light hypotheticals. “Any war worth fighting is not a service, but a call to action. If you believe in the cause you fight for, you hardly need to be ordered to do it. If there is significant resistance, not out of fear but out of a clash of ideals, then the country you fight for should reconsider what it believes it’s fighting for.” This is how he would govern Sindria if ever there was resistance to his decisions.

　　　 Having lived in Parthevia during the time of its great war with Reim... seeing every man in his village shipped off to the front lines until only he remained... experiencing the heartfelt resistance of his friends and neighbors as military officials tried to force him into service as well... these are things he will never forget. “What’s unfair is being forced to fight a war you don’t believe in. Citizens do not exist to serve their country,” he decrees. “A country exists to serve its citizens.”

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alchemashes

@inqerad liked for a starter

It wasn’t the man’s earrings or clothing that peaked his interest, but the way the man carried himself. The swagger and bravado of a man fully confident in himself. Roy wondered briefly if he used to walk that way, realizing he assuredly did. 

It was amusing though, to see someone walk that way. The strut of a bird looking to court.

If a little unnerving to see it play out. Catching himself staring, he took the lighter out of his pocket, flicking it open and closed, hoping the swaggering peacock of a man had not caught him musing to himself. Waxing philosophical was for a philosopher, and he was no such thing.

　　　 Whatever faults Sinbad may have, being unobservant is not among them. The careful gaze of a man not too far from his own age ( or so he must presume ) catches his attention quickly, though he shows no sign that he’s noticed - not at first. For a short time he simply allows it, curious as to whether he’ll be called or approached, or if this man is silently filing information away for later use. When it seems the latter is more likely, Sinbad breaks the illusion by turning to him directly.

　　　 “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching me,” he teases. “If you’re wondering if we’ve met before, don’t be shy; I’m asked that fairly often these days.”

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manipulativevixen

It isn’t every day that the homunculous would find someone she knew in this city. There were less then five civilians that she could recognize and feel at ease with, knowing them for as long as she had. However, with how big this city was, she didn’t expect to see anyone she knew any time soon. If there was a chance they would see one another, then Lust would feel even more at ease in this city and with whatever tricks it could come up with.

Meeting someone so soon was not a bad surprise at all. Minding her own business, drinking a cup of tea to blend herself in the crowd to not attract such unwanted attention. Though the voice that was directed towards her, was an attention she did not mind in the slight.

A thin smile cross her lips before glancing at the individual speaking to her. “I will take that as a compliment. As expected from a… how was it again, a king of the seven seas. Along with a much longer title to your introduction.” A light tease on her part before she took another sip of her tea. “Though I can’t say I don’t dislike being recognize from someone like you. You can say that you are someone ‘special’ to me.” A toy she couldn’t throw away. “Now what brings you here?”

　　　 As flattering as it may be to some for a woman from a vastly different world to remember even part of such a long title, Sinbad cares more for the sentiment than the sentence. In her teasing he senses that she is equally at ease, and for that, he’s glad. There is a familiar warmth in his smile when he responds, brought on by melting tensions he hadn’t realized he was carrying. “High King of the Seven Seas, among other things.” Many other things - an implication he lets lie where it will.

　　　 Intrigue pulses within him at the implication that he may mean yet more to her than he realizes. Someone special, is he? It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before, yet it feels different somehow. “I’ll take that as a compliment as well,” he says. “I can’t imagine someone like you would say that lightly, and I do mean that fondly.” As if he could ever bear any sort of ill will toward someone like Lust.

　　　 By way of answering her question, Sinbad offers her a small grain of truth. “I have business in this part of the city, but you’ve captured my attention as efficiently as ever. Do you ever tire of hearing this from the men you meet? You must hear it often, after all.”

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He wakes up at home, for the house in this city feels more like a home than Parthevia ever did especially with what’s still happening now.

The last time he was here Sin had vanished first, but now, looking around, it’s clear someone’s been living here- someone with Sin’s very distinct way of living. The twisted up sheets and shed nightclothes are a strong hint; He’s always been a restless sleeper, for the most part. He seemingly calmed down when they started sharing a bed. The memory makes him smile.

His partner isn’t home, but according to the clock and assuming he’s not going to drink on a night in the middle of week, a strong assumption admittedly, he should be closing up and heading home. So he decides to wait for him after paying some much needed attention to Vittel who seems beside himself that he’s back. After petting, feeding, and getting smothered in dog kisses, Ja’far pries himself up and away onto his star gazing spot on the roof. The sun is just now starting to set, however, so instead of stargazing he merely takes in the view and watches the street for a head of purple hair.

Eventually though, he lies back and closes his eyes, for the fact that Sin would likely notice a figure on his roof anyway and probably become mighty confused is amusing enough to not greet him on sight. That and what feels like months of concentrated stress finally wants to melt off his shoulders into a puddle of exhaustion. He’s so tired.

But he’s home.

@inqerad

　　　 The days have felt far too long lately. Even when the shop is full of customers, there is a note of unnerving quiet beneath it all that no amount of noise will drown out. It follows him home day after day, kept at bay only by conversation and trains of thought that go far deeper than he would care to admit some days. If not for his patrons, Vittel and Mahad, and the ever fluctuating supply of liquor he keeps in the kitchen cabinet, he’s almost certain he’d have something worth hiding from whichever of his allies returned to him first.

　　　 There is no guarantee that they will ever return to him, of course, just as there is no guarantee that he will ever return to them. Whatever the reality of their situations may be, Sinbad must at least believe that this is possible, if not inevitable, if he’s to keep a hold on his sanity. As strong as he may be, he has long found uneasiness in silence, and the lack of camaraderie in this city eats away at him slowly.

　　　 Every day he hopes he’ll come home and find a familiar face waiting for him in the kitchen, or on the sofa - or admittedly, in his more lovesick moments, in his bed. It never occurs to him to expect someone on the roof, which is part of the reason he’s so confused when he sees what appears to be a human-shaped figure lounging about atop his house one day. It’s too suspicious to ignore and perhaps too dangerous to let be for too long, so he acts quickly, as he so often does, by equipping Furfur and soaring onto the rooftop. What he sees is quite the opposite of what he expects, if only because he’s dreamt of it too much to believe it could be real.

　　　 “Ja’far...”

　　　 He can only hope he isn’t dreaming this time.

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klarheiit

riou’s been here for a few days but it’s only now that he’s properly looked at the city.

it’s not hard to ignore the sprawling wreckage when other, more interesting things have graced his vision. attention waned only when he finally took the time to fully observe his new home, and with it came a sense of grief that settled accordingly on his chest. the sight‘s almost like that of toto or ryube village, but on a much grander scale.

he’s glad there weren’t any bodies littering the road, at least.

the reminder of what he’s left behind made him think. turning down a responsibility for his own happiness was a selfish gesture, possibly — but the war siphoned any ambition to lead, and he only wanted to spend his remaining days with his family. to be sent here, where one might have just occurred, was alarming and saddening at the same time.  

          “ but there’s always a reason for war . “ his voice is laced with certainty, gazing at the man near him for speaking so suddenly, so loudly, that he couldn’t help but comment on his words. he caught riou by surprise, evident by how the young boy’s statement is said with an assurance he plucked from his own experience. “ we might not know what it’s for , or we might not be told what it’s for , but someone’s always willing to start a war . it’s hard to gauge if the reason for a war’s worth it though . “ a pause, lips curved into a tiny smile, “ there must’ve been one for what happened here too . “

　　　 Ah, to be young and naive. If the world couldn’t know peace, then at least it was a world where violence had meaning. Believing that brought about a certain tranquility during times of hardship, if nothing else. While he cannot say he prefers believing such paltry things over the truth, he certainly wishes it was just that: the truth.

　　　 The smile that graces Sinbad’s lips is nothing short of bitter when he turns toward the young man nearby. “The fact that someone is willing to start a war doesn’t mean there’s a reason for it,” he says softly. “I’ve met too many people who would start a war for war’s sake, and nothing else. People who would watch the world burn around them because they liked the heat of the flames.” If there’s anger in his face, it is because it was one of them who brought about the downfall of the first nation of Sindria when it was still in its infancy.

　　　 “Unless you know what you’re fighting for, it isn’t worth fighting at all. Why should you fight for someone else’s sake if they don’t respect you enough to tell you why they’d ask you to lay down your life in the first place?”

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echoes of the future.

　　　 Silence.

　　　 That’s what this is, isn’t it? The lack of sound that emanates from an uninhabited place, empty of conversation and laughter. Even in the dead of night, when he ought to be sleeping soundly, it bothers him. This house has never seemed so silent - but then, neither has the city.

　　　 In Sindria, he has his generals and his people. During his last “trip” to the city, he had Ja’far, and Morgiana was only ever a stone’s throw away. This time, there is nothing. There is no one. There is naught but the near silence and a voice in the back of his mind that calls for his attention.

　　　 “You’re still here,” Sinbad notes.

　　　 “I only want a word,” the voice whispers.

　　　 In a voice as cold as steel, he allows it. “Have your word and begone, then.” Once and nevermore, so that he may know with utmost certainty that every last syllable is nonsense.

　　　  “Even in this world full of endless potential, there is no one more capable than you, Sinbad.”

　　　 Despite what he’s been told, he cannot help but snap in response. “More capable of what? You can’t be aiming to become God in a world like this. There is no rukh to manipulate, and no Magi to aid either of us. Your dream ends here, David.”

　　　 “I do not need a Magi any more than you do... and I do not need to change the rukh to become God, just as you have never needed to change your blood to become King.” The voice chuckles, sending a shiver down Sinbad’s spine. “He who controls the people is King,” it murmurs, “and he who controls fate is God.”

　　　 “So you’ve said before.”

　　　 “Tell me, Sinbad... Who controls the people in this city? Who controls the fate of this entire world? There is no “Father” here... no true “God...” What does that leave us with?”

　　　 All at once, his intentions become clear.

　　　 “The scientists.”

　　　 “That’s right... and who else but you has the power to usurp them and the knowledge to guide the world they hold in their hands? Who else has the foresight to avoid the very disasters they’ve caused? Who else could change the fate of this world and return everyone to their rightful places?”

　　　 Although the words are meant to manipulate, Sinbad concedes to a single point: he has both the power and the passion necessary to bring change to this world. This may not be his home, his Sindria, but that does not mean he can stand idly by as the people around him suffer. Moreover, he himself is not an easy man to manipulate... 

　　　 But David, in his infinite arrogance, may be.

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mastersword

@inqerad

       He’s not running short on patience despite running around for about four hours now, not short of breaks in-between, but he’s prioritizing this over other things he’s been asked to do considering the urgency in the person’s voice upon requesting it of him. Maybe if he asks around that’ll give him a better idea on where the feline actually went, so he begins with a few people and eventually makes his way to someone who stands out a little more than the average person.

❝ Excuse me, ❞ he waves to the man, tilting his head up to look at him properly, ❝ have you seen a cat around here? It’s, um… tortoiseshell, I think is what they called it. Grey collar, couple months old, and… answers to Calli, I guess? ❞

　　　 There has been no shortage of strays wandering the city, several of them attracted to the headquarters of the Sindria Trading Company for one reason or another. Were he to wager a guess, Sinbad might assume it’s the smell of other animals that attracts them - or if he’s being honest, the scraps of food he’s kept in the back for such occasions since he realized Ja’far was no longer around to do so himself. Whatever it is, it seems it comes in handy in other ways as well.

　　　 “Tortoiseshell... the orange and black ones? Come to think of it, I saw a cat like that outside my shop this morning. I doubt she’s still around, but I could show you the way, if you’d like.”

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@klarheiit

　　　 The city is in shambles. The remains of what were once proud buildings lay in heaps, broken islands in a sea of destruction and debris. This city has seen more than its fair share of war and bloodshed, yet it has always recovered - until now.

　　　 It is with a certain darkness in his eyes that Sinbad gazes out at the wreckage before him. It is not a wholly unfamiliar sight,and for that, he cannot help but curse silently. It is missing only blood, tears, and the scent of the sea to recreate what he once survived in Sindria; the very reminder is enough to heat his blood.

　　　 “I’ve seen more than enough war for a few lifetimes,” he says aloud to no one in particular. “All of this carnage... and for what? What came of this battle? What would have come had we lost?” Nearly as much as the fighting itself, this bothers him. No battle is fought without reason, yet they know not why they were forced to defend the cage that imprisons them. “War is a terrible atrocity no matter the reason, but one without purpose is even worse.”

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@manipulativevixen​

　　　 In a city of thousands or more, it is possible to avoid the physical shadows of one’s past in a way that one cannot evade the metaphysical. A flash of gold might make him think of Sharrkan, or a red hair might remind him of Spartos ( or on worse days, Mystras ). More than once he has looked skyward half in hopes that Pisti will descend from an eagle soaring above the city. It is easy enough to brush off these rare occurrences as mere homesickness until his eyes fall upon the spitting image of someone he’s never met in his homeland, nor in all his travels.

　　　 “Lust.”

　　　 Sinbad finds himself drawn to her, compelled not by her beauty ( not entirely ) but by her familiarity. Since he was seventeen, he has never been so alone. Try as he might to hide what lurks within him, there is a longing for companionship of any kind that he cannot seem to quell.

　　　 “My memory never has done you justice.” For all his confidence and desire, nearly every ounce of flirtatiousness disappears from his voice upon continuing. “It’s good to see you again.”

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solartiara

@inqerad

     ♕ ❝ HM; it seems we have something interesting here. ❞

     Comes the intrigued comment of the chief, a hand raising to her chin in thought as she looks over the man from behind. While he is a man and his attire differs slightly from what she’s used to, it still reminds the girl of the various outfits and such she has seen more often than not in her home of Gerudo Town.

     And perhaps that is what prompted her in the first place to speak out to this voe.

     ❝ Though I doubt you’re from Hyrule I still must ask; where are you from? ❞

　　　 This world has no shortage of culture and beauty; a cursory glance at any part of the city will attest to that. It is one of the things Sinbad has come to like about it, though he tells himself it will never hold a candle to his home. Nevertheless, he has long appreciated the endless opportunities to meet those from vastly different locales.

　　　 The charming smile that graces his lips is as much habit as it is truth. By way of answering her question, he opts to introduce himself. “I am Sinbad, High King of Sindria and the Seven Seas. I’ve spent half my life traveling to all corners of the globe, but I’m afraid I’ve never heard of Hyrule. I take it you’re from Hyrule yourself, or somewhere nearby if you thought to ask after it.”

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here’s a small starter call for the high king of the seven seas! smash that like if you’re interested. varying length, but if i feel like our muses could have a unique or interesting dynamic, i may slide into your inbox or IMs to hash something out, so please keep that in mind! i’ll cap this at 7 for now.