#silv'a

[captainkurosolaire]

Allag-Bonders

As the defense shattered and broke because of morale standards. Captain and Shiro continued their plot laying in on a risky plan to rid this evil once and for all. “Have ye ever heard of the Allag Bonders, Shiro? An old allagan proto-type, they studied a diverse means to reproduce what old heroes and many things that govern our Realm supposedly prior-sundering with ancient sources, supposedly, even Ascian’s can do a thing called ‘Prime’ it’s akin to that but not entirely, by schematically blueprints.” Shiro quizzically looked, “I’ve heard rumblings. I suppose, it’s possible that it existed in old times and could’ve been carried over. I mean look at what we’re fighting.“ Whyte was also curiously interested in this purpose, that unknowingly unbeknownst to Shiro, was in the Captain’s possession. “This invention they called it a flop and failure. Stating they could never find two-beings of deep polar-opposite forces. The science behind it goes that when opposites attract they can become -one- and create a new foundation of energy, that ushers newfound laws.” Captain began trying to recollect how it went thoroughly. “Yes, trivial... Wait, you aren’t about to suggest...” Captain gleefully exploded with courtesy if legend’s and the allagan relic’s never continued to fail him, “I say we give it a shot!” Shiro exploded back, “ABSOLUTELY NOT! You just said it’s a proto-type! I’ll never understand your endlessly adventurous side, you don’t learn!” Recognizing that it may be the only hope they had, his eyebrows looking forth and back seeing that obnoxious look awaiting him, such frown inducing. The Seeker of the Sun pulled them out of his pouch onto the palm of his, two-rings that looked inactively magnets. “Really don’t have a choice matey. It’s no different than risking our life like all the other times. Let’s not let the sacrifices of yer Noble’s go in vain or my own Crew, they’re still waging on, but none of us will be soon, he’s only getting more powerful. This doesn’t need to continue if we can stop it! Why risk allowing others t’ become harmed? We rushed into this because we agree on something, when we make mistakes, we pick-up after ourselves. We learned better than many who failed. Think ov’ your Sister, Daughter, Rose and Sha. They’re all personally known by Silv’a who’s got a share of your memories, proof he located me. What will happen if they’re next?” Bargaining as often sound and convincing plea came with the charismatic rogue when it mattered. Literally the most borderline breakage and asking everything of Shiro often who was already a lone wolf, independently driven. However, to have his privacy and everything else thrown away, even passed the curse earlier they underwent as reverting into children to remedy they had to share an abundance of personal stories. This was a cruel atrocious ask. Pride came in two-different aspects, like Umbral and Astral. Perhaps happiness would only occur on the other-side for Shiro instead of the selfish vanity. He at-least, knew in that direction it made him the furthermost from his own Father. He angrily grumbled and attained one of the ring’s from Captain’s callus mit. “Errgh... how does it work, do I just put it on?” Asking understandably before the Treasure Hunter, “Well…” Shiro looked with an ‘oh no’ face. There was more to this… “They’re called Bonders for a reason, we’ve got to put our ring’s on each other at the same exact synchronization… And supposedly if we fail just once, our aetherial composition becomes forever lost.” Shiro heard him trying to tip-toe around this, understanding now why, this was absurd and the most humiliating not to mention, dangerous! Barbarically only a cave-savage could strum up ever coming up with a gambit like this. They were not chosen heroes, or possessed deity bestowed powers, if they wanted to survive, each had to improvise and disregard all grudges. “You’re asking a lot… Way too much of me... I’ll remember this. Don’t ever mention this to anyone… You either.” He looked at Viera who was seeing this exchange. She thought it was overly so cute and blushing with a little fascination at the romanticize ever so intently she felt a very targeted chilly nip before scooting far away. Giving a zipper across her sealed lips. The Keeper looked at the Seeker before looking away, “Ready?” The Captain said before, Shiro nodded and they took their stand. Aligning each other's hand’s at the same posture. Every angle was perfectly made. To be the same and opposite was still a terrifying hard glimpse to think it could be achieved. The Sailor poked one more bit of fun, “Aye don’t think this means I'm sealing th’ deal, I’ve got other’s who’d kill me too for this.” A bitter howl came quipping back, “Get on with it!” As they drew the ring upon each other like engagement. Their mere bodies were becoming deemed and transmuted over. Noble to Pirate. White Wolf against Black Lion Seeker of Sun versus Keeper of Moon. Freedom and Order. Magical to Physical. Each compounding element. Negatively with Positively inducing traits. Including all sustaining damage’s distributed into one formidable amalgamation. An almighty cascade of them came into a hurricane of fireflies beginning to readdress each other into connection. The Viera rose and blocked out the illuminating prismatic colors blowing through with blinding light. Meanwhile, Gark was stricken with some relieving blast’s and zaps, sending pain throughout him watching the Roe be so self-sacrificial. Going right through his chain-mail and constantly unleashing all the wrath of pent up aggression. The Hellsguard eventually crashes with a last exhale of smog. <Shite... Well, at least, you’ll be safe.> His eyes rolled up into a blurriness before pale, noticing the demon was about to go-ahead and mercilessly kill his hostage anyway. Predictably dishonorable until the end.   The smog surfaced above before encasing into a new substance of energy and breathing over Judas and concealing him in a protective inextinguishable barrier that erected a devil’s draconic cry then a dome safeguarding the prey, it blew throughout and swallowed the demon’s arm, he’d have to quickly quell the blaze from engulfing him again by once again severing his own-self to recuperate it. Making him drop the Hyur who began plummeting below.                         (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)

[captainkurosolaire]

Dumb-Founding

Captain gave confrontation to the root of evil, his composure realigning to quell the temper of his emotions to not allow them in ruling his thoughts. As Zieton forewarned, whatever made nestling bloom inside the Seeker’s half-soul now, would be dependent on what it was fed. A mindless all-consuming beast would once again resurface even worse than previously, enough to feast over every fiber of thing that stands humane at the grizzly Scoundrel. We are what is given and taken from life, each action creates energy. The Elezen forewarned very broadly. With humor and surveying in a chin. The Seeker pitched out, “Wait! I've got a way, I’ll take you out in one hit, you’re going to love this.” Captain said, preparing to take his stance for battle. “You sly cat… What have you concocted now.” The Noble questioned this nonsense but typically never amused, especially if… somehow Captain of all people came up with ideas. His intelligence was seemingly lackluster and left room to be desired, but his cunning trickery... “Tell me, Mr.Silv’a ye ever had a woman fake an orgasm of yours? Don’t answer, I’ll write that as a certainty.” “...How does that relate to anything…?” Was this individual, real? Before resuming and beginning already to draw a cast to silence this buffoon and recognize even retorting was wasted

“This technique is for you!” Solaire shouted. Centering himself into complete emptiness. He enacted an imaginary vial and began drinking it, throwing it against his hatch and swallowing. Combining his ‘instinct’ with the additionally reenacting everything made his senses and mind overflow, recreating a psychical ‘Retain’ of every vivid detail. Performing mind to matter. Every FORM of his cells were screaming it was real. Though trickery was a thief’s trade, even to his own core. Silv’a already launched a volley not ever allowing anyone to over prepare, only for Captain to hyper jump like a wilder beast, hurling directly into and punch through the ice, his body for a temporal quick-second, shifted into his nearly identical Hrothgar body, increasing his overall power, speed, and folds four time’s over. Unleashing a primal roar and delivering an actual connected hairy fist through the Keeper’s face, destroying his mask and breaking through with collateral damage to his bone structure from sheer might. Because of this uniquely new technique, Captain admittedly only thought of it recently. His degenerate, yet cunning mind was structured so... abnormally came to this even possibility. Bewildered stares blew throughout the battle-zone. Shiro erupted into laughter, so astoundingly rare for him to display, before quickly recognizing and covering his mouth to stop. The Seeker blew back and crashed into a cradle; his soft mass change allowed him to nullify the fall. “Welp, I’m tagged out, I’m out of clever ideas now.” He winced after his thud and achy body stressed out. Even if he sustained that somehow for longer period’s that strain continuously built up and made Captain often slip into an unworkable comatose. Which showcased also how his intelligence was flawed, if he unleashed even into a rampage and still Silv’a could regenerate and fix the damage, he’d be entirely useless and might as well be a dish served dead. No grander humiliation was written on the face however of the elder dark mage seemingly untouchable… And that slip-up was his first. He popped and quickly rearranged himself with such immeasurable ire. Captain and Lord both splayed out, before the Noble begrudgingly found the willpower to begin strumming back up for another beat down until something worked, however… The room was getting far violently a dark hazed cold. “Get up, Solaire.” He’d shout at him, not feeling so swell about this. As the rugged spoke his retort and followed suit, picking up his cherished tricorne, “Are we going t’ try the ol’ trusty tactic?” 

Agitation came from the Keeper with a sigh as they took stances back-to-back, “If you mean, hit him together... Yes, moron.”                                                                                                           (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)    

[captainkurosolaire]

Last Defense

Meanwhile, Whyte the Viera tended to get Captain and Shiro away from harm behind and away. She blew on her own muscles to try relieving how much throbbing it felt that was extremely a hefty hassle that made her already feel sapped. Propped up against a surface she’d find an elixir and begin forcing it into the Seeker’s parched mouth. Halfway in, he’d halt her wrists before sipping, already feeling the curing properties. Looking confused, “Zieton told me to give, alongside this satchel. He said you’re running out of time.” Captain starting gradually finding tiny relief but not getting all his aether instantly finding his voice back, “Give him too, I owe.” Canting over to Shiro who was out. This was payment back in full, no way a pirate was going to be in eternal debt.   Reaching over to fetch the satchel he peeked through, “That bad huh? Well, how's it looking.” Whyte stood up before raising an index as in, ‘let me check’, then she hopped highly up to the rafters and took a gander; she was practically on a springboard at all times. “We’ve got the old man left.” Then drew to administering all the rest of the elixir’s dose to the Keeper who showed a bit more resistance to be forced. Captain shouted at him, “Relax.” To calm a sudden shivering cold that was hitting them both. Deciding to do so with some soft trust, a showing of his growth during this one battle and the multiple. Finding consciousness slowly, “If he defeated her… Then this is our last line. I agree with Zieton’s wisdom, it’s his specialty. A crazy plan, but might work.” Shiro jarringly stirring awake, a playful Captain fanged, “Hey mornin’ princess.” He’d jest at the Keeper who grumbled, “I take it we haven’t found victory yet. We’re literally in the Torments with this accursed fiend already.” Nothing related to his Father anymore especially, that thing was entirely derived from monstrous ugliness. “I can finish it, you’ve got to give me an opening to perform it.” Captain already went through this earlier, “NAY. Yer whole solution is to die, then what? He’s got the same aspect as you and even more. Your whole soul-sacrificing ice won’t help anyone…” The Keeper let out a gritting teeth of building anger, “Well what have you got in mind? Doubt you’ve a better solution.”

Captain gave that irritating cheeky grin, “Hmm, umm well… won’t like this one. Gotta promise ye won’t lose yer shite.” A loathed look already transpiring on the white-maned. Henceforth came the next challenger as the Hellsguard. Looked above, clearly this was supposed to be some-kind of mental test, being dishonorable and staying elevated above. The devil is trying to salvage himself with all focus forcefully and being so obviously wounded like a runaway beaten jock. The terrorizer was also struggling with his own terrors. “Hey. Get down and fight me, strengthen up. I really don’t want to go chasing after you up there.” Giving a soft warning while reaching out and yanking his lance that collected a tile and some gravel foundation.

“You must be a cowardly fiend. Bravely honor your injuries, they remind you that you’re killable..” The devilish fiend shrieked out at him, losing his own ability to quip back, his intellectual mind was being corrupted and consumed by a festering insatiability that only continued more. Such another pitiful weak creature, Gark shrugged his massive head with condolence. A blight to run away from mortality and humanity, to be discarded of all rhyme and reason, to be so weak and becoming compulsively drawn to the darkness all acting under defiance. It mattered little whether what type of creature they acted underneath.   Silv’a gave him subjectively what he wanted by summoning in a replication assorted spawn of his own clone. That came beneath to hurl an unwavering amount of assaults. All of it connecting and piercing and puncturing through the Roe who sustained all the makings of damage worn. A sudden smog exhaled from his wheezing breath before he advanced forth and suddenly busted and grappled the demonical clone’s tiny head and performed such a terrifying vice as it erupted with volume until ash. Chipped chain mail and his face was all beaten up and punctured and ice stalactite he’d yanked out of his brow like a piercing. Reaching out and grappling the headless throat of the clone he’d burn a blaze and repeat the same result to the Skull Knight. “I suppose, I’ve found my answer.” That indeed, this demon was little left but of a coward.                          (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)

[captainkurosolaire]

Overpowering Intelligence

Unable to even draw up to celebrate. Captain and Shiro struggled but collapsed. Judas finally canted his visage noticeably wheezing before rotating to his leader and giving a thumbs up. Mission successful. Then he suddenly convulsed and a puncturing gladius came burrowing through his sternum. Eyes gravely looked with a blurriness. Kuro’s sudden reaction unbelievably twisted in horror. Judas fell face first and planted into the pavement. Shiro followed suit with disbelief. Ebony encased in knightly armor was his mourned Ser.Arcticus now turned into a half-skull necromanctically summoned knight of beckoning. Glowing red-consumptive eyes were his only brim sockets. Both the Miqo'te erupted, each of their most cherished were desecrated at the same-time! Each of them weakly drained still in unity charged with sheer heed. Captain lobbing forth a punch as Shiro enchanted it with a wave of his tattered white-glove hand to a diamond ice. The Gladius defended against the onslaught as Captain engagingly blew up with staggeringly kick’s and combining fist. The unkindly rival’s emotion’s were in temporary alliance again. Shiro kept augmenting Captain’s change in formed attacks. But also educationally was scanning the room with his lingering eye drifting back and forth. Silv’a that monster had to be alive, somewhere, even if a piece. Even delivering hit’s Captain’s blows carried no meaning to this ebony armor only but absorbed dents. And that gladius kept increasing against the relenting speed in terrific amp. Parrying each other back and taking traces of chunks of flesh of the brutish Seeker. His ink of black was being recoated into sanguine. Each new slice makes his movement’s slower but his impact found increases from being berserk. Aether flashing between a marine blue into a haphazard tease of crimson. Captain was about to receive a fatal directive slash before Shiro reached in and grabbed his own comrade by the back of the collar and sent him hurling back. Then he took the frontal stage. The Seeker served as support kicking the Mol’usa rapier from earlier back into the rightful hands and the Noble began his fencing and duelist style. If any trained with the standing and fighting style of Arcticus it was him. The Seeker bent to a knee feeling the effects of him losing his stamina. Before exhaling his panting and screaming it out in detest. He used his long-leg heritage to animalistically leap against the wall and parkour off it to get behind the Necromantic Knight. Attacking from different directions and angles, making him struggle between the pair. Swishing rotating blade came hurling into the fan at the Seeker as the Keeper struck at the exploitative weak of the ankle. The Seeker dastardly dodged before awaiting it’s next spin and meeting it prematurely and buried his palm through the entire blade and punctured himself. His second hand overlapped and caught the point it’d meet resistance. Shiro punctured through the opportunity and unleashed a freezing bone cooling ice from the link of his tipped blade. Then they both felt a shooting heat pierce them each in their legs setting them off balance from finishing the job with a few more randomly at extremities. “Surprise boys, I’m back.” A baritone with newly appointed horn’s came frightening above. Each of them forced onto their backs they barred him transcendentally lifted above them high within the air. Demonically recuperative. “Aw you look so shook to see me again.” Crossing his arms with uncontrollable laughter with despair he was empowered. There was nothing as thrilling as seeing someone helpless and vulnerable. Their trifling resistance all went to vain. His puppeted Knight was decommissioned by the freeze but was thawing out by Silv’a’s palm providing a flash of warmth. “You’re unworthy for me now. I’ve ascended to the pinnacle.” His entire body was feeling nearly at the frontal of being demi-blessed. His diabolical and grimace look proved. It was preordained whether or not it was this band or any incoming herald’s of light. When he slaughtered the staff. He took one far into the upper-quarters into a private room and desecrated an Elezen identically to his characteristics and aspect. Then ritualistically called a contingency plan. If for whatever reason his body was obliterated. He’d have a fail-safe. A complete transference of mastered necromancy awaited. So when Judas destructively annihilated him at the last-ilm he foresaw one final foresight that he’d receive. Giving him enough breath to softly exhale his soul’s transfer over. The bomb’s cloud helped him conceal his aetherical drift weaving over like dust particles from creased window seals slowly traveling airborne before arriving at the conducted point. Simultaneously that plan also warranted him to always have a surprise ambush and attack of his own. He picked the most credible fighter among the lot to also receive it’s awakening at the same crucial point of his fall. It was all ingeniously splayed. The commotion allowed him to slip back and start leeching and eating like a gluttonous fiend on more tormented soul’s escaping the maw. Reaching even newer grandeur.

“You all have no fates.”

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[captainkurosolaire]

Twisted Freedom

“You're an outmatched little kitten. Shouldn’t have come alone! I’ll enjoy savoring your demise.” The Warlock, placed before preparing to foresight into the steam and rid it out, lapping his lip’s with a disgusting intent at the youthful presence that smelled of hope and innocence unbroken and shattered, soon that’d be fixed, after many attempts at flailing random ice pelts throughout in hitting contact. Klethera didn’t argue, she was outmatched and inexperienced for this level, as many tried to defeat him.

However she wasn’t alone, he got that wrong. Soon as her image was seen prone in the smoke, before he could release a devastating blow, he became blind from an eye as a whizzing bullet lobbed through with perfect pin-point accuracy and went clean through his skull. Hissing and making him shriek back. Shelah huffing with all her injuries still steep and ill, only able to dish out that one concentrated attack before she plummeted with her goggles that allowed her to take the shot, and collapsed at the entrance. Behind that crouched Deadeye, came a terrifying menace that brought fear even to the bottom of a mutually dark demon, that sensation re-struck from the Ship that caused him to flee earlier in advance in worry and horrendous dread, that Xaela jumped with a ferocity guttural onslaught of piercing symphony of massacring intent bellowing with it’s grated mask. Slicing off an effortlessly hacking off the wizard’s arm. Then slashing a fury of slashes until he stripped the plate armor of SIlv’a then with even that berserk push, he still administered a bloody ‘x’ across the torso made bare, with revenge before also succumbing to his own wounds from the battle against Captain still fresh, his regeneration cost a hefty toll and wasn’t going to give into his own gluttonous when allies were around, showing his resolve to not bend to his own pact. 

Flailing back and suffering from the combination, Klethera came and took a mighty samurai pose before blitzing across past the demon with her sword drawn and flame blazing through with her added aether and combined huntress warcry screaming at the heaven’s and all that is just, to empower her to see the bane. Slicing the foe cleanly in-half and brimming with a destructive set of embers starting to scorch and consume. She screamed out with all her fury before collapsing in another heap pile aside Nihlius. The two-swords of the gold and black brand gave their all. Agony encompassed Silv’a being met with a last-ditch effort by a bundle of pests who sought to foil. Aggravation was drowning his sanity. He brought upon himself chilly-unforgiving ice that began fighting and attempted to quell the fires, they were still novice level. Though he was struggling and helpless, an unenjoyable existence and welcomining, first time taking major damage since his resurrection.   His immortal-body wouldn’t allow this, he too had convicted cause, his belief would swallow and engulf them all. His eye’s blistered in seething agony and rage to defile dying, never, would he allow it, or go back to the Tormented Planes.  He’d bring the worst and heinous evil here for them to unleash their own overwhelming pent up havoc. Twisted he was also bringing ‘freedom’, it just required pain and strife for all others! But that wasn’t to be worried if they weren’t weaklings. Many would find suitable joy in their vessel’s being shared with unbridled power and indestructibility, already treacherous fiends walking among everywhere that a crowd passed, blended in. They were the neighbors, friends, loved one’s secretly in their abyss, their thoughts and pit core laid the root of wanting more out of this cesspool of an existence. Deep down none could deny they’d take more if they were afforded it! If they could dictate it! To be of sin wasn’t a crime to his psychological break. Ends justifies the means. He saw righteousness. Everything was meant to be taken and relinquished over to the mortals but they were defiled and denied. Told what was moral and ethical. So a fix to all that, they’d possess the levels of the gods and eat them, they’d inherit their rightful birth claim! The true Nobles soon would claim their Thrones. His thoughts repeated in infinite loops of whispering mania. This philosophy and evil malice was so inviting and intoxicating that the tear and rift that Silv’a opened up, this grand vision, was inviting and darkness poured to him, as his mouth opened up to fetch them, gobbling countless murders and souls that were executed and slain now becoming joined to his cause, this was his crew. His wound’s locked up and he began reformulating with terrifying regeneration that was anti-death defining. While the boy’s of opposing forces of unlikely alliances, broke from their curse in reversing their child-selves, they would be given a most unwelcoming sight. Their efforts were all bottomless! His resolve to see the ushering of an Immortal Age, outweighed anything living! To make something better than before you first have to tear down the brittle old and flawed!  As a conjurer who once earned his acclaimed title in the Dragonsong War who once wasn’t driven to this he became consumed with corruption, watching the extinguish of life too many times over again, by things that could’ve been avoided, if only they were drawn to a power higher. More, more, more, that’s all many see and demand. To think when here long ago hearing Shiro was being announced to be born before going into the field and was attached to the infant with humane contact of unconditional love, he was a happy man like all others, but War creates many new retrospectives. Being the one responsible to hold and maintain life is a dangerous scale to possess and command, eventually, those who hold lives in their hand’s feel like they’re gods weaving their magic to defile and push death or grant life. Eventually you sustain so many burials in failures, you become in a shallow grave of blackness, then, the Void, is what offers you a way-out, not the scarce light.                                                (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)  

[captainkurosolaire]

Hellfire

He sighed before chunking his lance one again but this time a molten chain burst forth connecting in and allowing him whenever he missed to retry like a harpoon. The demon tried advancing past it finally just now recovering only to feel the heat of his soul's singe off, it was like running away from a chasing sun. Cowardly out of range and drawing at the portal this travesty was taking place he began succumbing all the soul’s he could nab to advance. Gark had to stop his persisting advances, to start grabbing the wounded bodies of his comrades and putting them into a close pile near the Lalafell and Bard. “You could both be helpful.” Peaking over and seeing a sheep in the corner dozed off with a sheet of carpet. “Or you three.” Saying with a grumble, too old to deal with bickering at the children to be responsible for anything. Sheik Sphere out of them at-least retracted his own passion to help work on getting them pushed back away in a safer zone. Gark then chased down with an almost retired heroic strut. Placing his lance into the bottom of the floor with a crashing thud. “Done yet? Got your fill?”  He’d show no disinterested care; he bloated up and was even more enhanced. “I was told, I beat you, I got my collective hands on Merlwyb’s socks. That’s all I’m here for. GRADE-A LIMITED EDITION!” Aiming his lance, “I take no honor in this.” Silv’a clapped back, “You should really be more cautionary for who you’re fighting. I’ve defea-” Right as he began monologuing he’d be hit with a high speed lance into his gut. “You were better off not talking.” Gark, said with hyper-ambers he looked villainously with an overwhelming power resonating.  “Careful… Like handling a newborn…” Gark worked on trying so desperately not to overdo it, as a volcanic flame burst, “Forty-five percent.” The harpoon chain allowed him to channel enough flame, feeling the building intensity all the demon’s pores sweat everything was unfathomable this.. Was like being burned by something draconic. He’d in desperation have to dismember and sever his own head and throw it across the room and lob it, only second’s after his remaining body was extinguished into crumbling ash flakes, everyone else in the room sweated up and ran blistering fevers.  He burned through the floor of the estate all the way through until there was a crater hole showing the basement far beneath. Gark reached over and grabbed a pillar and used his mighty Roe strength towards a weak spot to finish knocking down the foundation and quell his own embers. Most of the floors were designed to be prevented from going through with the veil but Gark overdid it. “Ahhh shit, Ears, is going to be mad. You made me do this! I swear if I don’t get my reward... I’ll meet you in the underworld and torture you in every eternity!” He shouted with actual lunacy. Advancing any reopening wound to be cauterized over his own flesh, every injury he sustained. Underneath a tiny peak of his chain mail was burned marks of endless scars that were like at that point practically tempered scales from consuming over him. Hyper-regeneration from all the additional damned souls were having to be reused but it took a lot less thinking he had transcended, noting firsthand now, that he couldn’t ever afford to ever get touched by that man again… Otherwise that meant pure death. Gark wasn’t unused to such an easy task. He far surpassed his Half-Brother and while he became the Original Founder of the Goldbrand, this Gark, who carries his legacy in last namesake only, remains well of honor. Taking full joining aside the vigil of the fiery peaks of his homelands and vanquishing to prevent souls from entering the realm of the living. This Tormented Plane’s ordeal wasn't impressive. The Hellsguard made their lives off this pesky Trial.                           (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)

[captainkurosolaire]

Winter Warning

 A coursing sea-vessel heeded towards brilliance to beckoning the ushering of premising new dawns. The bustling ship had grown exceedingly as Captain of the brand whose heart laid golden in lace beginnings, regaining confidence to steer a direction beyond pastures of the dark unalone. A groggy snooze waking up, a rugged fellow started to awaken aside his clutched haphazard of booze dangling off bedside as the Seeker reflected with eyelid’s breaking shutter and then twinkling merriment. Lastly after encountering unknowingly an estranged daughter who’s convicted cause, soon after a shift in the nature of fate’s became under his beckoning fortune. Finding and reuniting a Crew of functioning purpose. To seize the claim of inconceivable dreams.  Liveliness etched over the planks of the boards. The Worldly Finder was rebuilt after the assault of the Trade Captain, or one of many of the most dangerous and formidable force’s a sea could encounter, the Scourges of governing. True conqueror’s and menaces. Each more terrible than the last, reaching heights to even a Legendary Giant. With his fellow existences and other forces, there was no stoppage of deadly conquests, behind them fortune resided but only sail’s of fearlessness would see those rays. Flaming decals were painted on the side of the hull from the Shipwright suggestion and convincing to the Captain, that they’d make the ship go faster, than wording, ‘vroom’ so kind of already broke all argumentative sense, but of course Captain wouldn’t argue him fulfilling his role. The oldest and original brethren in arms, the only other survivor from Shiro’s wrath, was that silver-worn Shipwright. Leaving his own Cabin to get a fresh of sea air and breathe in all that majestically laboriousness that surrounds this magnificent world. Sun against his back, kissing his complexion. A soft fondness of caressing his cheeks and fluttering his crowned Tricorne. The scar-written pirate drew in all the scenery and ambience aside soft waves of alluring peace. Beauty came in so many forms from the sniper at crow’s nest valuing and writing down the courtesies of every bird they came across in the travels. A slumbering monster shadow beneath the deck with the tiny canopies of light peeking through the cannon holes which was given a stead where denial would’ve been met anywhere else but this company. Studious rugged leather glove’s of the First Crewmate, rattled through pages of blueprints and navigable interest, through piles of boards writing out tactics and survival odds, partners, team work of their Crew’s number, rations, all planned of chartered relic’s and isles, so much to explore all awaiting to be seized. The struggling jester of a Shipwright trying his mightiest attempts at swooning and earning a favor of a rather shy and timidly non-confident surgeon, who didn’t see her normality and value is what made her a pillar of importance to the Crew. She brought health even when she wasn’t sewing wounds over and nursing, reminding a reason to protect. Those who attain scarce treasure of life must also learn how to cherish and preserve it, at all costs. Or foreordain to watch it crumble between tip’s of unworthiness. All beheld in the amber-starry eye of the Seeker. Plus much more of his Crew were elsewhere together scattered on land, as a band on the path to be unbreakable, that unknowingly his ultimate Trial began as did all the members of his Crew. Those branded with seek. Should be wary, for even they may be sought. An unforgettable storm was coming to once again burrow through and endanger everything that was rebuilt without remorse as often they came. Three Era’s of Pirate Crew’s Captaineered and this was the testament to a last one, could they weather the peril wrath of an unceremoniously Winter that drew to his blue surfaces. Captain’s sake of insanity laid on the verge of breakage, as he seemed cursed to never continue to flavor, happiness, he once again refound to know its air.                                             The Immortal Age                           (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)                                   =========Cast=========

[captainkurosolaire]

Judas, The First.

Silv’a was demolishing Captain about to deliver an all-finale certainly by putting his loose finger’s between his X incision scar and was preparing to drill into and rip out his heart with enhanced aetheric force, Captain’s every internal instinct’s were flaring with survival but his pupils were already derived from life, helpless.

A bristling of window screeching and tugging wind crept through with a soaring fashion as a blonde-locked Hyur wrapped a draping around Captain and snatched him away from prying loose predatory hands. Fully with a newfound strength saddled his leader against the wall aside from danger. Earlier beside when Shiro and Captain fought as a pair, the gnarly Keeper decided to plan by stealthily stuffing his only means to recover lost time. Instead of keeping and using for selfish design, he calculated a situation. Recognizing Captain’s weaknesses was a massive well-of-knowledge owning by being each other's Rivals. It was more likely the Scoundrel’s recklessness to fall into a hollow hole. With his elbow’s only leveraging he began sprawling and wincing over at the Seeker, <I’m coming, mongrel.>. Judas gave his arrival at a boon notice. Booted step’s glaringly drove close to this devil, a fierce naked breeze radiated and loudly howled. The Midlander became even more stoic from the near-death defining experience. Last thing that transpired was Captain had to sorrowfully feed him a Voidal petal, one that would leave many who came before possessed. Consumed by the daunting horrors that could demented every fashionable will. Not only did Judas’s unimaginable sheer willpower to live swallowed his unruly invader. He abducted every abundant source of power then exploited it to unlock his own latent potential. Above all others on this potentially cast of Crew, none of them was always determined to see this Crew excel like the First. For what that devil gazed upon inside his spirit and soul was something of a kingly light, a nation of thriving mountain’s of lives were at his stake to bring salvation’s rain. He betrayed and snakely caused mutinies at even Captain once, all because his own ambitions were precedence. The First hardly took breaks, he was always the busy-body, never being anything but serious and steward to courses. His composure, collective mind, were nearly unrivaled upon the roster. Once the First Crewmate met Captain they exchanged a pledge early on that was carried from starry teen’s nearing their adult lives. That day, Kuro was a fledged individual who just dawned the mantle freshly off his slaughtered Crew forced to carry unknowingly what it weighed or entailed. He made a lot of layered meaningful promises, unable to truly back them up, one was especially given to this particular Hyur who he swore they’d return to an Island with a treacherous Scourge nearly in max security walls encasing a Kingdom. Serving as a ferryman Kuro gained the inspiration of Judas who spent his entire sole-existence to learn how to regain not his dream but of many. A hysterical cackle came out of Silv’a, “I recognize you.” Strictly recalling he put a steep vital shot through this one. These narking roaches…  For whatever reason this new-found shift in presence by this Midlander made him seem eerily cautionary. Engaging a blank he could almost feel familiarity with tiny trace’s of the Voidal who instead was the one enslaved by a mortal’s will. “I’ll make you dead again. Matters not how you endu---” Judas broke through an air puncturing punch that square-landed at the cocky foe before shifting his wrist’s to bring up a dirk and slice it across his entire lips, barely Silv’a had time to respond before he erupted with anger.

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