Squirmed digits adorning a tattered-grim-soaked sanguine cloth, crimson dripping from the utterly defeated and shaken Captain suffering from his darkest day fore now.
Feline ears rang sharply, sweat and tears with blood’s inclusion more thicker mixed into combination upon forehead nestle, stowed away on his retreating sea-vessel on the run from pursuing savages that have declared annihilation, turned his life and the association of anyone in his orbit as nothing more than a playful murderous game, his palms further proved, stained with the deepest red from an irreplaceable life dismembered and packaged.
A fresh pectoral mark of slavery left branded on flesh burned as a reminder only quelled by a psychological breakage unraveling, awaiting to determine his humaneness. Every instinct flaring up to retaliate, blood for blood and overall translation; freedom, but doing so meant every progression ever made, all the enjoyment of every sight of color that he relished to treasure in this realm, his world, would become an unholy sight of only ever crimson red going forth.
His leg’s trembling still in horrified fear after confronting the worst. Thinking he could rescue his abducted Crewmates safely, stealthily slip through the barriers of a Nation bred on sinking their teeth in all.
Two pairs of silhouettes outside his cabin’s door and drew inside, a roughed up, latterly beaten and bruised, a tortured Judas who had shown signs of haggard too, donning a old tunic and overgrown mangled hair from his captivity. Only person, Captain managed to get out of there from his Crew alive. Alongside Sinbad the Young, who caused these events to take place, attempting to swindle out a dangerous Crew from their believed, owes.
All of these three fellows, branded in connection, tracked and given an expiration date with their runic markings that almost were identical to a curse, approximately one summer, to slay their common handler.
...Yet that foe was practically inconceivable to even bring to thought their demise. An unmatched Giant, the proclaimed, All-Father of Scourges, YORE of the Gorey Seas was what they’d have to defeat.
There laid many mythos, legends, pirate omens and warnings everyone was to know better to kneel. Infamously said to have collected a bounty so massive, and lethal that due to having so many casualties was removed for the safety of adventurists or self-acclaimed Warriors, having themselves gruesomely humbled, brutally slaughtered and displayed with their decapitated heads piked, trophies all over the border of his Nation of warning and unmatched display of dominance. The outer-banks of the Isle, laid an unfiltered section of gory red, murky, cadavers left rotting and floating to further cause deterrence; practically an Isle bleeding.
It's foretold, with all the perfections and flawlessness that spawned from mortals to their believed Kami’s, Twelves, lowly Primals, they worshiped so dearly, that in order for this realm to continue to coexist with its consistent ideology of balance in all outlets from astral to umbral, forces of positive and negative, that polarity conditions must be managed, unequal force was needed to be curated carrying the most impurities, sins, ugliness into a Necessity all gathered, a giant amalgamation formed ripping through his progenitress's womb gruesomely upon conception.
His carnage and terror garnered throughout seas to such an extent, exiled fierce tribal members from Dorthals and "deemed" almighty races, deemed exclusive to only superior touted for their overwhelming ferocity, which drew in the interest to gather in a force of an Era, built to conquer unequivocally. Forming their own language, culture, walk.
Early members of their Nation, OMONGA, in mere youth and meek, primitive naturally raised and survivalist, were thrown in tribunal arena, left to fend against a selected savage wild beast dependent by their Blind Prophet who unveiled visions, these migrated or native creatures were riled up to purposely be enraged, given dangerous experimental, chemical enhancements and abused, to make their Tribunal Predator as lethally fearsome as possible. If they managed to survive and slay, they would then have their aetherial compounds and aspect, become ritualistically Imprinted, following and mimicking the prowess of their selected savage carrying on and embodying their trophy hunt in their putrid forms molded. Brandish to carry the legacy of ruthless designs.
From Captain’s very adolescence in the Goldbrand his surrogate Father and Founding Captain, told both Sol and Kuro, countless and endlessly, reality. That unbelievable power lurked. Tread ever watchfully while the promise of golden Freedom had boundless fortune to attain, there's steep costs, prices of Blood came before, lines that couldn’t be sailed, waves that should-not-ever be challenged.
Shallow waters too massive for them to ever think feet could contend against.
Upon Captain's encounter confronting YORE that led to this pitiful state he was paralyzed in. That-Which-Stood-The-Tallest; mercilessly, callously, revealed, The Goldbrand was created by that very monster, a sub-crew composed of slaves, who only were made to collect treasure for servitude and borrowed prosperity; hence the namesake...
Entire time, the sail he casually followed believing his Founder’s invention and groomed beliefs instilled, carrying prideful merit, was no more than inheriting the mantle of awaiting Scarlet Destined slavery a facade existence he bore.
Leashed prey tasked to find shiny objects like collected unwanted mutts and dispose in moments of desire for that is the truth of all things. The mightiest biggest reaped and ensured their bellies fed plump. Revelations unfolded these Predators of YORE’s Elite thrived in a Crew identically dubbed, the Bloodbrand coexisted.
A fuming, huffing puffing Highlander couldn’t believe the distraught or unpleasant sight of a once bold Captain finally confronted with the very first time he could say, Kuro was truly afraid. From witnessing countless deaths, otherworldly sights, to acquiring scars of incredible marvel proportions, to challenging inside the realms of the Void and bleak, obscurity to often drowning in the Presences of higher deities, or uncertain depths, none, none of them held a seemingly notion of fret from the brazen Seeker who paraded around with a feverish recklessness abandoned, but everyone, and all. Has a predator out there that's a designated devour, a force stronger that instinctively alone makes their rattling bones quiver to petrified liquid.
Truthfully Sinbad's inner-issues were self-reflected, masked as fellow billowing rage, for his own self-blame for causing this situation, but couldn’t take accountability due to atrocious Pride. His Crew were all eradicated of his own Captaineering while he licked and nursed his wounds helplessly and barked through tinted-ego, drunk on his fleeting moment of success he became drunk despite once heralding his straight-edge lifestyle. However consequences have been delivered, his loved-fiance suffered mutilation from being captive, only rescued from Solaire’s daring rescue.
Branded despite all that over showing muscularity being painfully useless, shown unrivaled, MIGHT unlike his facade brawn. Forbidden, cursed, from ever hearing his heart speak fluently with her severed tongue. His entire manly existence is barred ever transparently, everything he gloated, herald over the Seeker now was his own fated string.
Chewing inward on his cheek, “Well? Going to pack up here, sulk and wait to get butchered? We takin’ this on the chin? Without giving our own, huh?! Nah, fuck that. I refuse! They TOOK FROM US! They’re OWED to have everything ripped whether I have you two join me or not, I don’t give a soddin' damn, I'll ignite my remaining flesh just to make them taste hell incarnate.” Captain continued mute, rolled into like a ball; defeated. Muttering to himself with lunacy. Cradling tighter to his chest the severed appendage head of the fallen.
“Can nothing get through to him?! Pick yourself up, stand up for fucksake.” Intolerantly getting more aggressive the bulky Highlander showing temper these two were the only people who commonly could fight. Any moment now their ship would be raided by their pursuers, they were given a head start, with playfulness and pity by their captors, wanting to have a thrilling hunt, to get them rushing, none of OMONGA cared for anything but the sheer thirst battle offered or an opportune war, blood, this was their orgasmic greed they sated.
The once Princely First demeanor shielded his Captain, “Lay off! Reminder, this would’ve never happened if not for you! YOU caused this. You’re looking to project the last ounce of ‘esteemed’ manhood you may have, but it’s so blatantly obvious, you’re in shambles too. Stop the farce, end your festering ego. …Or do you need a reminder? If it wasn't for Captain and his perished one, we would’ve never gotten this far. We’ve got five alive on this ship, three were their recently jailed slav-” Lashing the Brute, grappled Judas by his collar and uprooted him from the floor and tossed him with anger against the wall, his temper and nostrils flaring and breathing heavily, the outburst was fleeting but he couldn’t look at Judas forwardly. His cheeks left wet streaks of hard knowing… It was correct. He lowered the Midlander onto his soles with a gentler approach, “...I-I’m sorry.” Another showing of fear displayed.
Was beyond extraordinary to see how Judas handled himself compared to the other two, forcing himself to be level-headed and prevent sink in any discomfort, always a master and manipulator of his own emotions. Despite being perhaps the one who was titled the Cowardice Prince. He comprehended the gravity of everything.
The First-Mate exhaled, “You’re right about something, we have to fight if we wish to survive. Even if we cannot beat all their numbers, we’ll at-least dent them, I’m not against drawing whatever vitality I may have. So I’ll join you, Sinbad. We can start by fortifying and making preparations. I advise rushing to set whatever advantages we can and have others hide in the brigs and wait to escape in the chaos through the cannon-windows creases, being divergence could be a solid honorable way to die. If anything Captain, if you can hear me, take the emergency rowboat with them, I can’t thank you enough for coming back for me and Casta. Told you, I’d be that wind.” Last words, laid out in heartfelt and a jolly smile, echo the memory of that handshake they exchanged, remaining light before taking haste.
Captain left as it started, alone in darkness.
Sleep-deprived, eyelids closed momentarily, deeply, a decision was begged for answering.
[Prev:Chapter]: ( --- X --- ) ~ ♪"And The Sky Turned Black..."♪
In the 3V3battle of SCD4 broadcast tonight, @keven杨凯 used a new one-shoulder breaking technique to surprise the audience, Wang Yibo still said that he hadn’t seen Yang Kai’s new tricks, and Zhang Yixing, as the captain, strive hard again x reluctantly said "Yang Kai’s heart is not with me"
Gale winds of relief blew away the vaporized disastrous fog clearing away allowing the Captain to his rigging aboard and embark. Collecting rubble left aboard noticing Casta’s journal left to them now completely ruined and water-logged scrolling through the pages that defined and she often documented her experiences and often wrote about him in a Tale. He felt such guilt, rumors of many librarian’s beliefs; that you can often tell much about how a person treats their books. Though it wasn't his keepsake in a particular way, his obligation was to provide security over cherished.
Luckily knowing the source-material helped. Working with his old skills of forgery and actual genuine experiences began piecing together a new journal for his dear Crewmate’s hopeful return in extra commentary and more heartfelt personal. During his ship-voyage, believing alone going forth for a while, maybe forever onward, this would keep him sane.
Below his cabin a noise was heard below sounding of barrels and storage in the hull being rummaged through. Sharp ears shooting up, “A stowaway, again? Seven Hells! Or is this one another ghost? I pray it's a bewitching company ov’ ever bountiful desire.” Quite alarming how common this was but knowing his fortune it’s probably the eighteenth assassin, maybe was him going crazy from detoxing away from his substances.
Down-below in the bowels, lights were still damaged absent from the last-fight, making things rather gloomy. Within the corner hearing a chewing of meat to bone. He stayed vigilant before kindling a match to ignite a belt-lamp bringing forth the light to his shadow-invader. Pupils flared-disbelieved opening widely, tearing up but never releasing the valve, his fingers fidgeting, before his lips curved in unadulterated; happiness.
Disobediently a crewmate went against his Captain’s words to split for the Summer, or disband knowing internally quite closely his leader. Undying loyalty stood up with cackling chains chewing on a former rabid chocobo’s dismemberment head chewing through the grates of his mouthguard messily eating eye-entrails like mortal’s spaghetti. The resident ghoulish horror on his Crew departed but struggled akin to a hound. With understanding Captain’s true intent or wishes of him disappearing, knowing somewhere Captain faintly, didn’t really desire to separate from his Crew in the slightest but did it to safeguard the traitorous attacks.
Witnessing the ship depart as Captain faced the traitor to reveal itself in confrontation. Couldn’t stop staring back, his intent was obvious; follow. Until the wise Zieton, Elezen observed before encouraging the creature of accursed fright, “You’re going to go after him, huh? Good. Guess I’ll tuck this aetheryte shard in your pocket I conjured, find yourself in peril, or catch-up with danger notwithstanding our agreed reconvening before the foreseeable Moons, I’ll know.” Waving off and walking none of this verbiage seemed like it was processing to a gluttonous creature who seemed to have its animalistic imprint to a degree, committed to repaying his unholy existence.
Two others of Crew’s company sent him off for success, Slafhota who was to be a guardian for him had a strong-sense of emphatically knowing beings and creatures, sweetly asked the Ghoulish to not stray away or become consumed by his hungering ways, trained and conditioned to eat ill and spoiled flesh, that which was diseased, or in some cases, the absolute worst. Individuals that played farce to being monstrous those who sharpen teeth to the softest skin.
Whilst the peculiar, bubbly personality, Viera, Whyte energetically added, “I want to go too! …But catching up with a ship seems like an awful lot of work. Instead, I’m going to do what the Captain said and find something that brings me fulfillment so I can come back and bring him joy with what I learn! Maybe go shopping too with Me-Me! And-and! O~ Anyway maybe you can track him with this friendship bracelet Captain made with seashells. If it doesn't help snuff him out maybe help you know we’re all with you.” She wrapped it on the ghoulish Xaelaen’s horn. No-signs of amusement from any of them but a fiendish growl. Just glad silence came after they were done.
Stoically rushing off following the coastline chasing the sea-vessel in the distance. Encountering multiple ravenous beasts, things proving as obstacles, but cut-through all them, ate them whole with consuming eagerness until using the little hunting in him, spatial perception and enhanced hearing brought him to a mission success.
A rare occurrence of disobedience being accepted Captain couldn’t escape a smirk, the amount of humane emotions urging out of him was defeated by something as detestable, devilishly foul, but it felt so authentic. It brought a realization and revelation just how different things were now, Captain perceived things were returning to him losing everyone or something all-over again, but karma perhaps for the recent event, seemed to be returned instantly. Signs of hope and jolly. “Mate this is gonna require a celebration. I’m glad ye came back. If certain, then we’ll sail this ongoing black together. Plenty of stuff I could use to help in fixin’ up ‘ere. I’m going to need t’ drink-jollies until I’m o’ alabaster white-dead-to-right in complexion, near my grave like ye appear my grim’n’crim lad! But ye make me feel entirely otherwise ~ alive.” Though it wasn't ever vocally echoed back, the ghoulish ink sclera, blood-viciously sanguine hues absorbed, no doubt constantly observing things in powerful details, deciphering and puzzling together; anything with intent, with heartbeats, their expressions slightly shifting and moving. Whenever its curse or affliction showed reprieve, all this would prove to be a pandora’s box, of unbridled importance to determine a genuineness of his nature.
A deadly-sounding shriek snarled out as the Xaela was uprooted off the floorboards in a ferocious bear hug of impressive degree before lowered. Captain confessed, “That’s how one typically shows their fondness n’ greetin’s to a fellow-lad. That or they get a bit more raunchy or share n’ some adultery with company or another, but that can be a lesson in another dawn-break. I’m sure you’d be quite popular as a courtesan, t’ them, I’d reckon you’re an exotic specimen.” Startled the godless fright look paralyzed and confused before finally motioning back, seemingly understanding the motive behind Captain’s first sentimental words, he grabbed the Seeker and tossed him overhead with a overzealous amount of strength, thinking it came down to power to determine who dominantly cared more about their treasured friends.
Bearing that in mind, he’d surely kill them; win if required. The competitiveness of the Xaela still swelled in that bloodstream. Captain let out a painful howl until colliding into a bunch of barrels crashing.
Stricken dazed seeing stars before shrugging it off, “...Ow.” Folded up like an accordion, before recomposing with a heartwarming boisterous laughter and treating this as a challenge to Captain approved, “Alrighte toss’n’ me round’ like the cheapest Eorzean whore?! I wouldn't gone that far, that's comparable to wrestlin’ but I respect yer spirit! Aye… Y’know let me repay that n’ full.” Crackling each knuckle and popping his neck committed to spare, back and forth they’d beat the brakes off another, tossing the other around, punching each other until what should’ve been a common-hug shared became near physical brawls anytime they’d come across another until swelled bones, bruised aches and nearly breaking their bones on each contact putting iron sharpens iron into their bond that was forging.
The Worldly Finder teetering slightly through ebbs and flow, piercing through smashing waves partaking off to the Far East where his Father awaited who could finally provide the answers to his Seeker in a Son. A new-waving flag ruffled through trifling breezes.
Worn leather boots sauntered towards a new destination where discovery of self could be realized, purpose. A following sentimental butterfly colorfully guided this mirror-soul given manifestation, observing distantly, currently the delinquent was cocooned from just how vibrant he was becoming; the pattern of his distinct wings and light soaring alongside could hatch into. Could a pirate thrive with their heart intact? This realm was far from done, giving a gauntlet of challenges. As his scarlet destiny was beginning to unfold.
Plankwood of old familiarity creaked on each step, in grace on the pier his ship-anchored with much repairing that required, reconstruction keeping him on land for a while. Showdown of a broken brotherhood caused their flag they once both commonly shared, to be engulfed in raging flames; a new flag was required to be made leaving behind a past, yet still tatted and brandished, ushering his age in resemblance of a new golden jolly roger.
A nasty grueling fog that blanketed visibility to nearing zero had taken over the bay near the Velodyna River that led directly to the Sea of Jade. Unable to even witness the waving blues that often welcomed him home. Practically a kiss from mere sight alone from a lover, eternally bound that couldn’t find separability.
Keen feline ears led him and used a remarkable sense of smell. Grief-stricken, a loud plea heard puncturing through fog. <”Please help! My boy!”> Tears heard in each octave confining in a Wildwood weeping before his torso, Twin’s Adder watching over port. Formidable the elezen’s sights often were and hearing it wasn’t conditioned for this fog, one could argue this wasn’t even natural. Judging by density and thickness the fog took claim.
Solaire held suspicions, often felt the sea underwent something disheartening and sickening like this accompanying warry silence, he knew inside that fog rampant tides were stirring angrily, battles were being contested somewhere on his beloved blues. Any who dared themselves to sail or press forward against this, often asking for them to be swept away and lost forever.
Another distinct-shout heard in crying pleas, “Mommy!! HELP Momm-” Further apart heard in proximity no doubt deep within the waters as it raised and began swallowing the child. Still arguing between those who deemed-closest to authorities, an Adder held hesitation, preservation, cowardice, knowing if leapt in would most likely not make it in time; a wastless cause. Just another victim wasn’t like he ever claimed to be a coastal lifeguard.
With fury and restlessness a rebellious soul urged forth from the fog a cherished hat falling, the mother was desperate enough to jump into the tides on her lonesome, but felt a yank back by her dress and sent off balance; as if wind enacted it, a thwart of rare selflessness entered, “Outta th’ damn way!!” The Adder who’s lengthy body was in a crouch trying to use an aetherial spy-glass but was stepped on, used as a springboard diving plank for the Miqo’te to unruly gain a big leap towards treacherous waters.
Another outcry lastly heard, after momentarily anxious-inducing pause, with feint of breath being lost and gurgled out as the youngster and waves had collided ferociously, pristine swimming following a combination of <Huton> surging his ankles, contesting rivalry with the current. A little-arm of promising future was sinking down drowning before hitting the bottom, a wrist was grabbed strongly before pulled in by the least likely in appearance wise. Breath-withheld while taking them to the surface, they couldn’t foresee anything. Wave’s were moving them outside the starting position, confusing tides and exit. Sense’s flare heightened animalistic alongside adrenaline the Miqo’te paused even though it was often time to panic. Inner primitive instinct told him to await; experience carrying, shielding his sailor arms and exhaled and inhaled breath, listening to clashing waters respectfully, but couldn't detect was coming but a riptide of large proportions came blowing forth towards the coast, always leading back towards the pull of land and drawing back. The muscular Seeker landed harshly onto the pier back-first, quickly his feet had to sink down and hold the pair of them from getting drawn back with the gravitational pull.
No opportunities to dally, the Seeker gently laid out the lad’s airway and gave precise few light rescue breaths following with compressions to expunge fluid build-up trapped, until a good-sign cough boyishly came with relief in resuscitation. The moment the boy-came too startled the sailor who saw them return to normal even after a near-death experience, and shout for their mother in apologetic volley tears.
Maternally grieving already but shot up from her depression as they both called out until reunited again, in-spite the fog’s dismay. Captain’s callous scarred-palms were trembling and shaking, unable to believe, …he actually rescued a life of many who came into his crossroad, often terrible or grim fortune despite coming to those of his perceived responsibility, he was supposed to guide them otherwise into boundless riches but proved; a failure dozens. Reciting trauma from an oppressing enemy, Sol rang against him that following the light was pointless, sooner or later, he’d become no different and become a blight relation to his kindred of seas; crueler and hardened, lacking sympathy for land-lovers. Sea-walkers in belief never saw any amongst land with any true obstacles, challenges, that couldn’t be avoided or steered away a bunch of weaklings.
They didn’t wake up against a different force or mood of powers beyond them in seas, or enemies flooding by with varied sins, creatures lurking in the depths beneath their rigs, that makes them paranoid, the longer an actual pirate lives, the more enemies they accumulate never-ever-less the price, of unfathomable freedom is distant peace and blood. ~ Exposed to this lifestyle, weathers one monstrously. Interminable they’re left in the environment, skin of humane sheds like their famed Primal Serpent; becoming savage and beastly.
She didn’t chew out her son, just embracing longingly and tenderly. Thankfully for her child's safety, two-pieces completed beautifully. The sight made a very rough-man find contentment, these were treasures to him. Irreplaceable values that couldn’t be priced, connections and joining. He disagreed and defied his own fellows, showing unbridled compassion towards the denizens of land and gratitude. Not wanting to overstay he began to turn-away.
Sobbing explanation came, “I j-just wanted to give-daddy his medicine, he’s been out at sea too long.” Revealing the hopeful child’s wishes to do-good which showcasing courageousness.
Grizzly the Seeker’s lip’s extended in a genuine sunshine grin, noticing the Mother spoke-up, before the man, no…! Hero clad in black mysteriously vanished. Causing Captain to pause, the Mother, whispering something to her child who ran up and hugged his pant’s leg, “Thanks Mister!” Enthusiastically shouting, Taken-back by it, the Seeker kindly gave a pat and lowered, “What’s this ov’ ye challenging the’ sea so early? Think I’ve rescued my future Cap’n, you’ve revealed true-bravery.” Kindness flashing praise despite the child perhaps thought would gravely be chewed out by grown-ups.
The fledgling smiled slightly, before remorse followed by a frown, “I-I just wanted to give this to my daddy but fog came and I couldn’t see even my hand!” Gruffly the roguish-man scratched his goatee, “So ye were going t’ swim all-the way to him? How would you possibly know where he b’?” A head shake, “No I built a boat with daddy but was taken away with tides and I fell in. My Daddy is the greatest fisherman and sailor in the whole-wide realm! Everyone says so! …Just isn’t like him to begone this many Moons. It must be a big-fish like Leviathan himself! ...I’d scour anywhere for him.” Intently the Blackguard heard, before could speak, the Mother interjected, “You must be a formidable sailor yourself, I’m blessed and most humbly praise Llymlaen for bringing you in our need.” A fluster heat of all this goodness was uncomfortably against his nature.
Modestly the ghostly scoundrel confessed, “Something like that summers-ago, aye. ...Oi’ well then, I got a proposal. What if ye leave me t’ that quest?! Ye should stay here with yer endearing Mother, she needs you here. If tides are n’ my favor, I’ll be led to’ yer ol’ man, I’ll have him race back to sweet harbor; home. Count on it! So what ye’ say, lil-Cap’n? One-day you’ll undoubtedly become a mighty-force upon her enchanting-blues but until that Sun! ...I’ll b’ yer grown-will.” Lowering himself beneath the level in a one-legged kneel. Playful way the seasoned eye-patch pirate made the sniffles act up again, looking to his guardian who beamed kindly until wiping any sense of droplets from cheeks with his own-sleeve, “Aye.” An agreement-made.
With a toothy-fang grin and extending his thumbs up in approval, “Take care ov’ yourselves until then.” Straightened posture before standing up with a role model stance, fading into the fog, the medicine canister alongside asking for a little locket he noticed that contained a sketch of the father. Waving off a farewell before fetching his trademarked adornment and continuing his voyage ahead.
[Prev:Chapter]: Prelude to Destiny ~ ♪"Let It In"♪
Pair of wheels bound to a chair for a maimed, battered gruff pirate, who paraded as a Champion was left critically conditioned. Opposition he conquered over was his idol, once a remarkable sea Goldbrand Captain who once herald many stories that peers would’ve recalled over folktales to docks a type worth inciting gossip. Now that legacy was only a ghostly remnant of what could’ve been, more potential never given proper realization.
Deep-down that victory was a let-down, notwithstanding him being in appendages, neck-brace, or temporarily bound ridden handicap. Like most-idolized, often our minds make them larger than life. Only for future disappointments to discover in truth. Often projecting our desired selves, in another and betrayed by the role-model's failure with it being one mutually felt shared from vicariously living.
Sinbad gained an unbridled, self-ignorance, his ego validated flourished, there was no one left who could oppose him in belief; now or ever. Everything revolted against this rookie. Though he defiled odds standing atop the current pirate food chain, he attained pure success uncontested, even if just a lick, a superiority complex manifested. It made this, youthful-lion, No... A viscous shark; who crunched and ate the elder lion's glory and relished donning the trophy mantle, irrationally dangerous.
Consequently, the crosshairs of the misfortune of losing the battle. Kuro's beloved Pride of three-most valued Crewmates of the Goldbrand were contract to a shaken deal for a whole Summer.
Former First Crewmate Judas departed after an emotional falling out. Directionless and had given up on any sense of his own freedom and quest, they were now seen as obscured impossibilities. This was visibly atonement for betraying and acting cowardice in his past, a pill to swallow lastly.
With an unenthusiastic disgruntled pitch the Midlander spoke against his new employing Highlander in mock, “O’ Cap’n well… what will you have of us.” Clearly not wanting to even entertain this, but more keenly he had always had an ill-feeling about this brash pirate and their entire Crew a bunch of immature heathens that took life so carelessly.
Regarded being a snake himself, familiarity could be sniffed, traitorous blood floating in neighboring water. This stead was driven by glory, a majority gained chalked into fortunate events, luck. Sinbad, his new Summer Cap’n, held seemingly boundless strength but one-day inevitably would clash with something that’d not bend nor break. Mayhaps betrayal, or something due to inexperience, the wrong pirate won that pit, he was certain. Upon this young upstart Crew was merely limbs, nameless hands and legs. Submissively broken souls that gave their freedom away for momentary lapses of glint.
Boisterous laughter left the highlander until his sternum ached and pain struck him to quell-down, “Could you care to least pretend you wanna be here? Three-months, might be an eternity otherwise… I can assure you that. Look where you are now. Taking failure for your pathetic Captain wagered everything into. You told my lass to silence herself in a disrespectful way at our parley long-ago, and now I’ve got the power to silence you as my dog, fitting. What and when I command; you’ll roll over and bark, boy!” Raising his voice in declaration at the end, ensuring who dominantly stood, even… well considering he physically currently, could not.
Judas scowled, fellow brow’s frowned but sassed, “Last I checked my Cap’n, had more metal bones than you’ve got. Least he was wobbling on one-leg, and not like you whose is truly left rolling around.” Mocking the condition of the arrogant muscular moron. Unafraid to rebelliously sass, he also made a promise to watch over the other two, Klethera and Casta was also stuck in this arrangement. If angering this tyrant and getting stuck with their share of overloaded work and nonsense, then he’d take it deemed in Repentance. Ensure swiftly and safely, possibly could devise.
Strategic webbing planning worked as the wheel-chaired oaf gave out an offended huff, “Bullshite, you’re bluffing no-way little Solaire isn’t still feeling the effects of our battle. I’d wager he threw everything at me, after-which wallowed in his substances and poor-vices in typical fashion, and you know what… I respect and condemn that alcoholic junky for showing up to our hellish bout, coming close, but I won by an inch, so I’ll take my fucking mile victory. It won’t be long, before I’m healed, then I’ll get back to bashing in trunks and skulls. Until then, you’ll have to lap up the taint-end of my business.” Crudely pointed fact. The Midlander bit his lip to retort further, tension between them. Two volatile elements that weren’t friendly to combine.
Time bellowed forth as the three in Sinbad’s command was left nearly with every responsibility, Casta using her medical knowledge to help get him standing on crutches in physical therapy, roaming around.
Klethera was sent often on messenger and hired goon to retrieve debts.
While Judas was left with the most life-threatening missions, with no rest in-between. Nothing he wasn't accustomed too, conditioning himself tirelessly towards once before for a noble ambition.
Up till their final day appeared, and contract was fulfilled.
The Boss highlander sat now in a befitting chair treating it like some grotesque throne luxuriously diamond-encrusted prime shades looking below twiddling his ringed-fingers, dazzled with assortments of bling; high living, “You managed to survive this Summer, somehow providing usefulness despite who you once followed. What remains in task, is a simple gathering between fellow low-life's. I owed them monthly shares of gil alongside my plunder…" Pursing lip's soaring highly with a daring-thought.
Lowering his shades, doubling down like some hot-shot movie star. His pirate queen lass behind him caressed his muscular stature only furthering his tyrannical beginning. "...Now I don’t see why I’d ever have to continue paying off them anymore. My infamy is about to shoot-up, I’ll be getting the royal bounty treatments. So YOU my darling rag-tag bunch will convince them, find another sugar daddy. They can find their purse elsewhere, or become creative to eliminate that noise if they dare fuss, give them no quarter.” Judas’s haggard visage wrinkled, sharp-blue orbs were left murky, his eyelids were bagged tirelessly overworked, weight loss, parched lips and complexion didn’t fare well, absolutely deprived of energy and sapped to even refuse, but had peculiar sixth-sense this wasn’t wise, nervous bumps swarmed up his arms, intuition to fuss, but was drowned due to all his other ailments.
This deplorable chapter and nightmare; Summer of Sinbad, held closure by mid-day. Underneath relief as his other two-companions weren’t like him in shape, thankfully sighing. While Klethera and Casta shared disbelief of their First Crewmate’s convicted resolve to remain a guardian even outside of their former mutual flag.
Danger within Sinbad’s new attitude intrinsically wasn’t his own danger that held frightening concern. …But what fed on rash thinkers.
Above all other forms. In darkness dwelling almost certainly, lurked a set of blood-thirsty behemoth predators, dragons; monsters which consumed the lowly deemed ‘'predators”’ effortlessly.
One-night remaining to rest.
Judas couldn’t shake the shivers of the cold brigs forced to lay near a barred window almost like a cell. He was superstitiously forewarned when the tide grew so silent like this dusk. He was kept personally wide-awake. Sharpening his hidden dirks, anxious, most likely there would be blood spilled in ten bells. No way this whole assembly involving cutthroats, pirates, could go smoothly… Didn’t help Sinbad didn’t elaborate which ("band") they were about to cross.
Casta couldn’t escape her routine nightly tears; she confined herself typically to writing but currently held no way to unleash or express her downtrodden emotions. Harm was felt in her healing with guilt, surgically stitching the very person who demolished her revered hero in a Seeker Captain. Casta wasn’t far from Sinbad; they both shared their stories why they looked up to the scoundrel black-cat, but perspective couldn’t be further how they handled it. She saw the contrast of just how vastly different her Seeker was in leadership, treating subordinates like actual-beings and equal, giving freedom catching people from slipping off the teetering sea-vessel wanting to chart the character, and depths of souls, judging actions not faceless covers.
Versus Sinbad’s commandment, whose self-serving acting; all means to ends. It brought back familiar trauma that festered in tremors, abundant cold sweats. She couldn’t identify her own anger building, but negativeness, being generally overwhelmed was consuming her most-humane gentleness. Comparable to a flower being watered-down with ever punishing downpour, merely hoping it could-brave and survive another night.
Lastly aboard was Klethera who volunteered working off sentence. Her fault in belief, feeling Sinbad in twisted-way, was grieving despite mouthing otherwise, taking life-careless and acting so righteous in a way. She brought down Sinbad’s brother’s life to end… despite that man having a putrid soul, was unquestionably not hers to take. That’s the issue with deemed heroes; they're often shouted praise for them destroying evil but they enact themselves evil's color, murdering to achieve resolutions of peace.
She felt guilt, knowing better, should have captured and let chains, or cells hold nonredeemable. Yet... Hanging around the pirate crowd construed her thinking, she witnessed how many couldn’t be contained by that method. So when then?! If at any, extent should evil be annihilated? Who can reside as judge? Her perceived bloodline was tainted; a pirate father definitely had his share of kills, alongside a grandfather who assassinated countless men for shreds of peace, she didn’t want to partake in that savagery of ending any more lives or one another, the rebellious attitude flowed so beautifully identical to her predecessors.
...However, could she really escape fate standing above a mountain of bodies? Maybe her father was right and couldn’t keep up with this atmosphere. Making her sizzle with heat, an acceptance stubborn to admit… She began dreaming of a new-way to battle, it’d be her own-style to materialize.
The three in unison before dawn-break, connected a thought, wondering what became with their Crew having to depart right before this harrowing, learning shortly a traitor was creating chaos among their own flagship. For a brief-moment, they began to feel close; like an actual family forming, now a distant memory from unending chaos.
[Prev:Chapter]: Prelude to Destiny ~ ♪"Warm Shadow"♪
