#first crewmate

[captainkurosolaire]

[Insight]: 冠 Judas "The First" Caesar 🎼

Wind against your back, lips to neck, whispers ushered to ears... and a bite you won't ever forget.

[captainkurosolaire]

Fallout

Dark gloomy clouds overtook the Sun. As a massive sea-vessel approached a designated port. Tension was felt from the air, humid, only briefest a glimpse of a reliving breeze. Underarm crutches stomped against bulwark, still covered in appendages and valley of injuries. But like what took place in the skies, a storm felt inevitable. It wasn’t wise to leave things uncheck. He heard of what transpired in his mending. Someone upon his own Crew saw to set him ablaze. That troubling fact was numb perhaps only due to his already extensive injuries. Being Leader he took the reins despite his conditioning because if he hadn’t there was going to be a mutiny. Also not solving or trying too, could lead to the culprit to attempt to execute someone else entirely this poison needed to be neutralized. He forced his consciousness open. Getting a head-tip from the Crew as he left his cabin room that everyone’s number one suspect was conveniently departing at this very time, he angrily pushed himself to the docks where the blonde-haired Midlander in his princely-appearance took pause in his leave. “Judas! Not yet matey. Isn’t going down like this, I need some answers. We all do.” His breathing was noticeably heaving, wheezing his lungs not entirely clear. The Midlander gave a frown of disappointment, it was a curious look that could have been attributed to the history of this man once turning his back on his own fond Captain. “Cut the bullshit, Cap’n, only here because you still don’t trust me. My sins and transgressions formerly, are right to assume that, I expect that. But I didn’t do it.” His brow’s and the way his eyelids lowered and features was concerning maybe, it wasn’t disappointment, but heartache.

The Seeker squinched up his visage and gave a sarcastic tone, “Geez, ye right, I don’t know if I can, I was at my lowest and that’s when you struck me, that guy who looked EXACTLY like you in the past, stabbed me in the back and then n’ my HEART. I’d like to think anything, anyone, is capable of change. I know it’s achievable. It’s why I saw to fight another chance to get this going again. You and me, cause when we’re on the same page, we can make magic. Upon my ventures on land, I've learned n' appreciation fer trust. There may b’ little out there more valuable in life... It's also the host ov' a saddening graveyard. Ye take trust granted, every-time, it almost certainly means death. Whether you, or what was." The sailor spoke with his chest. Experiencing too often people give up their lack of expectations just cause they didn't want to engage, be led to wasted time, or indulge in pain’s kiss. Seeing in that perspective he couldn't blame it. He was conditioned in a world of betrayal as something common-grounds, so he made it apparent for others to assume the worse about him early on by his presentation in his most unflattering self. Giving the decision to know the water's dangerous edge makes people frightful of the roaring tides. You can always reliably sell anyone on their own twisted truth, guaranteed unquestioning it.

Those bold who took the plunge against their fears often unlocked things they would've never attained otherwise, that eventually they wouldn't be able to see their life without. It was what he sought to represent to prevent others from becoming a slave of hopelessness. He would personally hide behind mask after mask showing that he had his knees buckle to despair. Playing fantasy that he was indomitable, a commendable warrior.

Stings of deceit weren't something he was immune to. He just braved that facade. It took chunks out of him, leading to such a fragmented soul, keeping and harboring that resentment, it meant unsafely; reason to hide an extra knife before slumber.

Puncturing eyes of Judas who manipulated and tricked his way for any opportunistic path, to get closer to his goal, once saw right through his scoundrel brethren. "Captain... I thought we were beyond this, dammit! If you took a second and THOUGHT instead of allowing your emotions to think for you. That is your worst design, always has been. I swear sometimes. You perceive yourself as someone who isn’t a strategist, cunning, smart and has always placed me so far above you that, can’t even see how incredible you can be, and what you’ve conquered alone! A lifetime worth of envy, there isn’t any shock of why someone saw to cut you down, shoot their deplorable shot. Understand this, AGAIN, — I vowed to provide wind against your back! – Thing is if you resist it, there's no sailing forward. MAYBE; I have never said it before, since I betrayed and caused that mutiny over what WAS a decade ago, but I'm sorry! Okay?! Does that really do anything to help?! Huh?! I don’t think ‘words’ have any value." Blood began to rush, tempers were igniting bottled issues, and just overall wounding in his verbal pitch. He had been aside Captain and offered all his advice, tribute himself to that contest and entrusted Captain in that brutal battleground. He even smacked off against his enemy, and yet was vilified and outnumbered.

The Seeker’s lips pursed and snickered not believing this instantaneously but gave silence with an emotional stare-down. Judas continued after a pause trying to contain himself in a pressure sigh, never evading the unyielding contact, composed, "...I have lived with that everyday! You have no clue what it did to me to hurt you..." Strongly using his hand’s to communicate pointing between them. The inflection in his tone came from nestled deep within a heart. There was something genuine, powerful, woe inducing.

Captain’s visage showed despondency, the people who are most important and closest felt a need to strike us the hardest. And maybe there was something that wasn't wrong about it, one bit to prevent us from going a wrong path. Just like how lies were ushered to children, youth, about monsters under the bed, to keep them safe, lies aren't always evil. What is often the most disgusting, against mankind, deemed cruel ways to perceive, could be yet again, the way to show an unbeatable level of care.

Between these two men was something close they shared undeniably. Always bubbling, never surfacing.

With an exhale Judas took note of the silence over this. "You know what Cap'n, it's alright, you don't want to trust me, can't... If we're done here, then it’s done. I shouldn't have ever burdened you with my own burden.." The Hyur who often did anything to get-ahead for his ambition, would've used anyone, sold out anybody to get back to his home. Gave up.

The Seeker couldn't believe what was unfolding in revelations. Under that intense moment, he recognized this man wasn't at all the culprit but framed deceptively. Finally snapping out of it, he noticed the Hyur retrieve his knapsack and was walking off the gangplank.

"Wait, where are ye going?" He attempted to chase hastily but fell on his crutches and plummeted trying to pursue. The crash heard Judas looking over shoulder, "Perhaps no one informed you, but Captain Sinbad collected his reward while you were out and chose his Three Crewmates. He picked myself, Casta our Surgeon, and even your own daughter, gave herself to volunteer, Klethera. – I'm getting a new start ahead, perhaps this is best. I'll lookout after them." Trying to cope and find a silver-lining there was just a broken man that shattered before the Captain.

While feeling that physically, and emotionally just drowned, unable to even give a cheeky response, or snark back, utter defeat. Laid with an unconstrained emotion, it was easier, accepting Judas did betray him again. Wasn’t something they didn’t overcome before, but now this meant, another on the Crew sought to dismantle Captain of anything associated with his dear life. The most potent betrayal was invisible. Strings tugging at you by an unknown, forcing you to strike against the wrong individuals, until you erased everything that meant a damn.

In one rushing moment a riptide reminded his losses. Incomprehensibly too much to handle at once, he fell in a vegetative state, lids and sight only witnessing boots of departure to someone, he never spoke and confessed his feelings. He felt exposed, out again in so many wounds, scar’s reopened, cut thousands of times left to bleed, trying to find out if there was an extra bone to make him sturdy to endure this pit and stand. This bloom zenith of life Captain nourished throughout last Summer who Captain rode highly, seemed destined for abscission.

🌊 ♫Could've Been♫ - Reference - Last Chapter

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt #10 ~ Parley of Oceans

♫This is a War♫ - Reference

Leather lucrative feet paced around inside a cabin. Smoldering cigars sizzled out in ashtray. Nerves were being battled out. Ear's gravitated to only hearing the hour-hands of a clock, tick. In a life of free was also pure chaos. The next storm was forewarning. A new challenger and obstacle was climbing over to the horizon. A while back Captain's estranged Daughter, found themselves in a battle with a heinous and deplorable Scourge of Trade. The type who held connections, even though he was rotten, every life contained an echo, even evil. Especially over waves with business threads. The Captain's daughter didn't know any-better, she only saw righteous justice and the amount of victims, slaves, tarnished and groomed broken soul's that laid awake, but she held no right to slew that beast. Captain arguably was a remnant of lessons learned they conveyed his scars dressed on him. He wouldn't see this falling back on his innocent daughter, seeking early in advance to put this under the rugs and protect her, despite rarely loudly showing this care to her. He reached out to the formidable eldest brother of the dead to arrange a Parley of the Oceans. Judas remained lent against the wall and door awaiting the knock's arrival. An appearance of two-on-two. The First Crew-mate's there to ensure mild balance. This promised to be a verbal showdown and potentially an unruly altercation.

A knock commenced, gaining the attention of the gold and black haired. The Miqo'te was resolved. As the door flung open a burly and masculine force rugged and clean, suited up, he strutted in importance, a fellow Captain's presence with commandment. A Highlander strapped to a female they treated the two as a pair of lover's and items. She seductively adjusted his collar. The new Era of Piracy had begun hatching. Captain wasn't no longer a young heartthrob who threw back into an assortment of harem's he lived like that before and much in his span, it was painful but he was a grizzly veteran in this encounter. Dressed like an exotic wench even in her movement's she gave a speech of introduction. "Captain of the Goldbrand... My, we've heard of your ghostly presence. While you were gone-hiding. A new uprising has begun, behold Sinbad the Champion of the Five Seas. Unblemished, untainted, he's annihilated all oppositions." She gave such praise and bravo, accented and well-spoken, sultry flaring off the tongue. Pair of upstart gloats. Judas quipped and canted his head in a shake, "Pardon, but shut your shameless harlot up! This is between our respective Captain's. You forget, this is our vessel and turf." She looked shook by that comment, furrowing. About to talk again before her Captain took his time to remove his hand from his pocket. He tipped his shade-glasses at Judas, "You'll still show us respect. Watch your mouth, boy." Threatening like a tough guy dosed with every testosterone ever. The Seeker cackled to swap the mood, "Listen mate, o' there's respect... I respect yer woman has a mouth on her, I'm sure that comes n' handy with small-inferiority below your waist. Champion? What exactly accolades have you done, t' qualify? What ye beat down a few Maelstrom, a couple rats? N' survive? Coming out here with a suit, shite, wasn't long ago, I dealt with a fellow just like that. He was far more impressive, I assure." Giving a nudge towards his rival Shiro, now gone. Soft-irritation rang in his voice with a guttural growl. Classed Captain, Highlander removed his glasses and boldly lingered his eyes back there served already tension, sarcastically. "This comes from you? You were once herald The Man!... Long ago. You defeated a sea empire underneath the Rohtano, managed to band together and accord connections with Grand Companies alike. You were friendly once with those bastards in red. I see why you've chosen to tuck below in the shadows. You're outlived, you got an expiration date on your body. This room reeks of your heady lifestyle. You're poor choices, bad decisions." His tone shifted from once enamored praise, to drastically shifting into pity. "Your Era is over. The next evolution of pirate's holds themselves above all. While you drink, struggle, hide through vices... like an animal. Because of your insignificant choices, I remain a cut-above. Straight-edge, unlike my fellows. I don't need to relive my pasts, I swallow it and throw the heads onto my future throne. I earned my right to wear this, to be clamored in jewels ov' all like. To be strapped." He spewed further with brashness, another advisory that felt untouchable. Captain Solaire saw through the ruse, as further gloating and he snatched a debauchery make-out session with his paired lover with dominance. Reeling to broach that tout, "Ye act like I invented piracy. Mate, there are many of us that have encapsulated and redefined what freedom stands. There a ship's, infamously ingrained to our history, and knowledge, ship's like Desert Rose, The Bastion... Sleeping Thor, Lady Infernal, Rusty Claw, Stormcry, Misery, Astalicia. It goes on and on. And behind each of those helm's... Laid a Captain above the rest. Stories that are never forgotten, they carry on, with each Era... You're right. My time has passed. But ye haven't started... You cannot name a noteworthy ship, or Captain ye have bested in combat. So how do ye expect to get injuries?" Spewing his smash-mouth back showing flare. Before scooting and presenting to confront face to face with brass. "I

took something from you. I killed yer little brother. Fighting that's me. Fucking that's also me." He'd wink over to all the cast. "It's all I've ever known. So there's one way to settle this... A death-match, a Tribunal pirate battleground. Known as Six Layers. You want to show it's your time usher, defeat me... I assure you, in Six Layers, no one man remains the same. It's the most horrific, deplorable, detestable conditions to fight under. It has been lost t' history because of the anguish. Long before ye were pushing diapers and before I was a floater in a sack, pirate's before us, real one's fought against th' blimey tongue of fancy little Astrologist who foretold to a pirate etched of old and gold, what he would suffer in Six Hell's, also the depiction of the Six Heavens. When we choose this life. We don't get Heavens--- this is it. For us, we have t' live the most in th' moment. So Pirate's fought, and resisted that, the same rebellious attitude we carry ignited in us, today. They held skirmishes and they settle disputes and grudges through this unconventional way, where soul's were damaged, maimed, broken. Those who partook never walked the same." He confronted with resolve. His height was always looking above at the giant's who claimed ownership of the Seas. This younger generation didn't feel like he was looking at a lower-level. He was looking above at the spirit, confronting him. Someone to admire, even if outdated. His shrew lass whispered something to his hear as if trying to make him deter and not agree to such a death-sentence stipulation. It seemed risky, especially accounting for many people have always bet against this little Miqo'te and through all those 'fuck-up' who really was still breathing and alive compared to many advisories. "On a condition. I don't give a damn about my little feeble brother. He brought the depth on his own. I'll accept but, if I win. You and the top three crew-mates of this ship are under my helm for the Summer for any business, I demand slaves to serve... If I lose. If there's anything left. I'll be your personal cabin-boy for life." A term of agreement gave setting. He remained firm, unwavering, although personally the Highlander felt a bit of sweat he wouldn't cower or show it. That'd go against his acclaimed words. This battleground and brawl would be violent, bloody, soul-destructive, alongside these term's held forever changes that could rearrange the very oceans themselves. Captain contemplated, not able to speak out, he didn't treat his Crewmates like they were disposable. Judas though as the First Crewmate and one who saw the personalities and those on this Crew, alongside believed in his Captain, even if the outcome was his loss. Decided this was the only course, fair. He pardoned Captain's ear's and gave confirmation to agree with advice. "We ov' Goldbrand agree t' th' accord. Captain Kuro Solaire the Old will battle Captain Sinbad the Young. A private, and unique, Budokai Three under Six Layers. Our Crew's against the wave's, rooting for their respective leaders to pull off a victory." Both of them gave off a handshake, with animosity. Jawbone's clenching. Different facets once again opposed, to a proving grounds like all battles, wars, and fights begin. Cheating, dirty tactics, every nook and cranny they held would be required in this showdown. No rule's just guidelines to follow under, that would prove extremely barbaric and hardcore. The pair of upstarts romanticized their hands in the link and left. As Captain and Judas looked on, knowing this wouldn't be pleasant.

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt#3 ~ Black & Gold

Previous - ♫Kill All The Lights♫ - Reference

Daybreak lustrous skies collapsed around a smooth sea-vessel being drifted across waves and winds alike. A Hyur dangerously juggled knives between deftly skilled hands under thoughts. Fixated into the empty serene ambience, as fliers of the free brushed by with piercing squawks. That frequency traumatically recalled screams from his origins, pleading soul's begging to be saved, helplessly taken, before the same root of an evil deathly hand felt almost like it was able to rip through spiritually and still threatening wedge to loom out and squeeze fearfully grasping his own heart still. He purposefully remained always busy trying to forget his demon's left alive. The bustling lifestyle was still in desire to forge forth, to somehow climb over a daunting wall. But he wasn't immune to the soul-carved scars of his former. Desperate to acquire victory, power, enough that could mark a dent into an impenetrable Fortress. he spent existence never knowing any peace, remaining restless, nerved. A victim chained to the past that even ate his future. Causing an imbalance tensing that nearly brought his juggling to skewer him, gravely to wound. -- until he felt the fabric of chest wear, be tugged backward from his Captain in clad leather. With a conditional care, while emerging with his found answers. "Judas, matey ye alright?" A startled breath came, before a composing inhale showed how close the dirk was to piercing him, the same thing he used to betray so many who jeopardized his mission even gave the same endangerment to him. Naturally when that question came, it was often a lie to themselves firstly before it drew with air, "I am... Did you come to a conclusion, upon how things are different?" While also famously trying to subvert and bury it with a new topic. Although Captain wasn't remarked or touted for his book smarts, people often were comparable in their own stories they told a lot. He was very instinctual and keenly driven. He silently however accepted but still felt the hairs stick up on his tail, not confident in the inflection given. Because these same thing's weren't beyond him either, often can recognize problems when battling them too. Trailing before subsiding and putting his arm over the railing of the ship. "Aye. It's different because I am. When I reached out and you were goin' under 'Bellum' as some shadowy projection, willing t' earn n' lick fortune off selling slaves when we both know, that's not fer us. Repeating th' same steps of our enemies, stooping to them, how does it help? I took you on despite it all because something within me, felt I was capable to be the difference back then. I risked everything even despite possibly dying by yer hands, it would've been worth either way. I owed you, I promised ye t' ferry back to that place. N' we'd settle it all... I wasn't enough back then." He'd admit from the resonate truth of harsh gravity.

"Youth, careless dreaming, I hadn't been hurt or crushed enough, or bled enough, as often the price ov' freedom' cost. To know how to fight, understand how to evolve. Essentially, I couldn't swim against the current ov' our destination, because I wasn't kickin it. Doubt drowns us, anchor limits. -- Our worst enemies are us. It psychs us out, causes us to hesitate. Th' most damning' thing... It kills us with fear of unknown, or I dub it, 'un'... But these things are crafted by us. It's an insignificant version of us. Happiness can only be achieved if we battle against that louder voice in our noggin, thinking it's impossible to vanquish. It doesn't help, it festers, grows like a parasite, or becomes massive from the closest of our other failures, or stacked mates who are inflicted with the same setting, doubt can continuously poison and spread, tarnish, slaughter a whole crew to early seabed graves. Honestly... A sea who really does swallow us." He exhaled pandering with a stroke of fondness to his ship that came from the ashes of his Crimson Phoenix, now the Worldly Finder. The namesake changes alone represented a lot. The polished Midlander who often was the grounding keeping his Captain afloat, was reminded again that supporting or building one another wasn't an action of one-sided development. When operating any vessel, in-order to thrive, achieve it required multiple, a crew. He couldn't do anything alone, it needed to be felt. Understanding patience of growth, accepting things were often when thinking of our dreams they were like being weighed on scales. We often assume just because we can't measure up to what's so far above us on the opposite side, there's no feasible way to equal, or hoist above it. But life isn't a voyage, often recommended or taken alone. Heaps of fortune, wealth, abundance of accomplishment came by accepting every weather, and braving it. Judas frowned briefly before flashing blue. "I see... Then I believe we can commence our real beginning and voyage together. I will follow and entrust everything to this and you. If you can give me the same. I'm wanting to learn to swim as well." He kept the symbolic meaning and extended an agreement of dealing open-palm awaiting handshake. Where once or often, someone who once betrayed would be something to be cautiously, he held the mentality that it wasn't personally done, if anything it hurt the Hyur more, which resulted in him also falling off the handles. Captain saw that the pit of snakes for plummeting into bite was because of his antics of being tense to charm wild, was to be composed to also frantically not give it a reason to fear. He met the extending bonding shake before hooking as a pact sworn. "I'll Captain th' Fates." A new pledge etched. Confidence radiating with a heating warmth to nestle within. "And I'll ensure your back isn't without the wind, I may provide." Each giving off their own sentiments almost like a brotherhood forged and committed deeply invested with a kindred oath. Branding smile's of golden, met.

[captainkurosolaire]

Battle Architect

The mighty sorcerer warped now his favorite go-to Voidal Relic, the worst one, The Scroll of the Twelve. He navigated his digit to true decimation, this trifling lot, couldn’t comprehend what unfathomably spell he foreknew and could invoke. Under the extent raging battle. Shiro managed to retrieve himself close enough to scoot into Captain and pull out from the Seeker’s pocket his chained pocket-watch, which if carried recent enough could date injuries to time and be used to personally rewind them upon a once activation. He couldn’t go too far, only enough to deal with the most recent grievous wounds. But it was better than anything to keep them as many in the fight of their lives. That last pommeling Captain would’ve either sustained his death or regardless been out of commission. The hour hand’s began spinning at Shiro’s responsive aether who was proficient in time-magick, but couldn’t stop time after losing much of his full arsenal to the lecherous resurrection, even Diamond Ice was scarce for him to use.  Breathe regained into the lung’s of Captain and injuries minute’s ago dissolved. As his amber came forth and he looked stunned, hasking for air, looking dismayed. “Shiro…” He had been once mend like this before by the same source very long-ago. But that’s because Noble and Pirate both shared a similar woman’s interest who coaxed them to fight against the Sea Civilization Empire. “Don’t…” Scowling not wanting to be thanked. He loathed that not only Captain but his entire Crew was sacrificing themselves seemingly all for him. That’s so damaging to pride… To be so weak. “Wait, that's Judas? ...He’s like a completely different person, I knew he could survive th’ Eternal Sona Flower. But t’ remain himself… Incredible…” He once required using Relic's petal’s for desperate measures but inevitably, that brought the ruling demise of his former Chef, and dearest Xaelic matey, Masao.  Both their feline ear’s began hearing a bone chilling spell beginning to utter suddenly, “OH NO!” Shiro said horrified aside Mhachi cell’s and Kuro also ingrained deep influenced cell’s of vein coursing Amadapori. Heard the beginning of it and felt their bodies about to explode from their very existence, unlike the damage they risked bringing all nature and forms, throughout all their lifetime they were being judged. It’s what brought an end to their better ancestors and ended the most notorious War. Silv’a flavoring salivated this conclusion. “GREEN…--” Captain burst aloud, “IF HE PERFORMS THAT WE’RE DONE!” Any of the remaining Crew if had consciousness felt the same sentiment but unable to vocalize. “WRA-” On the tip of Silv’a’s tongue about to use the most indomitable destructive spell, Greenwrath. Atypically that wouldn’t have been fearful to all them but because of the Scroll, every nature or ethical law behind spell change codes or loosened restrictions previous base on emotional stress. With Silv’a’s hefty Umbral alignment of multiple aspects feasted on, it would’ve been potent enough to take out the people of this room with complete mass-purge. Each Goldbrand and Noble head’s count of them would be worth many, many years accelerated typically on the wielder invoking Scroll, but Silv’a’s ageless body negated it all. Out of the entire selection that spell was among the worst. Soon as the sorcerer however moved his index finger enough over to the second-half after ‘a’ in ‘wrath’ a massive explosion blew up over him. Piercing eardrums and shoving people back from the magnitude. A trip wire. Judas planted every single movement earlier and his cowardice acts as previously stated, they were all intended. Each of them carefully maneuvering and shifting. Each feint, they were meant to loop and coil nearly-fully invisible aetheric fiber string wires.  From the bottom hilt’s of his dirk’s carried them, to his mere finger tips, in the middle of rushing when his hand’s swayed, he was meticulously cutting redundant wire’s to intersect over and over.

This resulted in a spider-web-like response. Combining various string was also an added strategic level of his intelligence. Not only did he have overlapping wires, some were facades. It explained that when Silv’a tried to remove himself from in a leap, he was prevented because he was entangled from below legs. But that wasn’t all either. It was his entire upper torso and arms to every individualistic finger. The aetheric nature he could do many things, using the wind aspect he could reposition at any point even already served purpose wire’s that were destroyed or needed realigning to prevent suspicions. The First Crewmate abundantly stood by his entire body was also suffering extensive linked injuries and cut’s that weep over into his clothes. Each wire he connected on himself meant he needed to account for the range between his target. Agony creeping over his visage and heaving breath formed. To hide such overwhelming power from the surface was a feat beyond many tricksters. But he was the best poker face. Last drifting scrap of parchment of that Scroll was unusable charcoal turning into ash from the flammagentius cloud of debris the explosion created. Detonation wires were scarcely Judas’s usage. His big-attack was all or nothing. It cost him to aetherial tether interlacing wire’s to his own heart, taking a severe toll on his life-span. Bloody drenched. Shiro and Kuro looked at each other… “I don’t believe it… He did it!” Disbelieving emotions were so confused, they went from drastically feeling inevitable dread they felt their spirit’s practically lift out of them. Only to feel a stun of amazement. Captain always knew compared to his own self that Judas possessed ahead of his time techniques, trickster inspiring abilities and sheer intelligence that far many underestimated. Even when Captain battled against the Hyur as ‘Bellum’ he wasn’t fighting in his normal style to remain incognito with his dedication, changing his style to adopt personas, a lot the Seeker learned from this prodigy. This hellish nightmare felt unthinkingly over. There didn’t appear to be any traces left as the dusting cloud began to dissolve.                          (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)

[captainkurosolaire]

Judas Caesar

[captainkurosolaire]

To enchanting ventures.