perhaps there may have been a slim chance of him desiring to lend assistance; not an altruistic action by any stretch of the imagination, but a simple resigned notion that whatever this situation he's thrown in, so too are others existing at the WHIMS of the ones in charge of this vile island. a sad and simple truth it may be, that they are pawns of these schemes, servants to the wicked stars and their wicked ways. but, there's a secret of his locked up —- a selfishness burning through his bones like A WICKED WILDFIRE. little more than a wraith as he picks through the wreckage of an impressive ship. reminiscent of the island he deemed his own, but a shadow thereof; this is no mighty fortress, but a GRAVEYARD — —
❝you'd best find SOMEWHERE ELSE to pick at.❞ he growls, dragging a chest over creaking floorboards. pretty, sparkling jewelry within — in all regards PRACTICALLY useless, for without PROPER sustenance he may as well be dead. ❝unless you feast on gold, you may as well find better luck elsewhere.❞
@sakyuu liked for a starter.