#Sol Akami

[captainkurosolaire]

X5 ~ Prelude to Destiny

[Prev:C] Sunbreak Treachery ~ Scarlet Destiny ~ ♪"Good Guy"♪

Surging water rushed down stream and woodland insects began hissing. A process of wild nature was coiling, a serpent slithering up an evergreen, where chirping birds held host, were being nurtured by their dearest mother of plucked worms being divided kindly, a few newborn eggs left to hatch. A predator serpent salivates a most-scrumptious treat, practically anticipating its course-meal, down those impressive elastic-like mandibles. Camouflaging alongside bark on the unexpected-prey. Its winding patterned-tail curling in support with a sturdy bough. Preparing itself to lunge when their grown-guardian drew close among the edge of the abode nest. One-strike all it’d take. Drooling venom-leaked against its fangs.

The Primeval Law; weak was fed to strong. All abide even if they’ve yet to encounter their devourer. Lonely and with a trouble-soul on a nearby bench gave a daring-stare to this process. Words reciting back in harmful-memory from his own pit-betrayal consistent snakes on his Crew or swimming in believed friendly-waters, hiding deceitfully. Recently departing a treacherous brother consumed by envy, he left them to their own-fate to a volunteering infirmary after their emotional-battle. Far as their long-history was concerned, this was the conclusion.

Again. Left with no-one, nothing. Giving a castaway didn’t mean his Crew would care or remember him after the Summer-break that was agreed-upon. Everything built-up to be demolished again, perhaps in the end, that’s all his purpose served. Fleeting reprieve or an experience to parade; merely a tale. Constant-cycle, that no-matter how many times, attempted to evolve past being simply defined, he always fell-short where it mattered. Teeth-grit angrily with rebelliousness, this was his shade. Always resisting what’s supposed to be assumed, standard, natural. Traitor’s venom from Sol, sept into his veins, and momentarily obscured reflection, <”You’ll become no-better than me, blight akin to myself. All that preaching of goodness, light you bring… Those accursed eyes… Constantly shining against darkness will collapse, you’ll be confronted with the forces we ran to maintain freedom. That we both know, are impossible to overcome. Irrefutable tides, power-beyond-power, none can oppose and it’ll come for your sanctuary. When it DOES, you’ll become at the forefront butchering to survive; thrive, or die empty as nothing.” Winning against their grueling contest, but it didn’t feel like that at-all. He lost a practical considered-brother, a friend, someone trusted. So many wounds overtook and festered. Couldn’t help but wonder if there was painstaking truth in this omen. Not-the-first time something demonic, prophecies his foretelling of the future. That stalking-serpent about to gobble up, let out a hiss before lunging at the motherling, feline-ears quivered, before a bellowing shout, raged forth his own tatted-scarred arm maneuvered like serpent itself grappling the snake in tracks. Poisoned-dipped-fangs close to the motherly bird who collapsed in frightening fear. Wanting to strike at the interrupting-handler, but expertly strangled in prevention. He was its predator, the traumatizing snakes surrounding his story-past made feline instincts-flare. Vengeful frustration wanting to keep squeezing, serpent with a vicious-grip back that often choked-prey’s life out of them. Taking his own wrathful-distraught on something, anything to remove-feeling. Facially-feature’s intimidatingly surfaced, before roaring and snarling stood against the snake, making its resisting force act cowardly; skin shedding early in fear, wanting to slip away to escape desperately; preservation crying. Knowing the serpent was now in-peril. Clutched callous-grip stayed viciously snug until suddenly, the conflicted-soul, dropping below on his knees freeing the creature with mercy, as it slithered recoiling into hedges onward, it’d find meal elsewhere.  Balled-fist kept pounding against the soils beneath, until this boiling-fury was vanquished and knuckles busted open. Resisting urges to become another vile-design; proving them right. Thought crept-in. Opposing so many oppressive forces, notions, order, acted on his own principles, but never saw any succession. No reward in this road of kindness. Nay treasures, glory was had, the people of the land-he-idolized their simplistic and normal settings, mocked for being too mundane. To him it seemed so routine but above-all, they owned peace, knowing no enemies, they lived-unadventurous life but held an inspiring wealth that was long-lasting that didn’t slip from their fingertips, nor materialistic or fool’s gold. His chaotic world navigated upon, continuously rejecting him seemingly from being any symbol-good. As-if wasn’t meant-to-be, swore himself to such-a-daring task with a-sea itself. The pledge prohibited him from ever tasting any true solitude. Condemning his own slavery in mind, body, spirit and soul so foolishly in brazened-youth. Whether desired or not; he must become a conqueror. 

Would figuring out who his Mother was grant clarity a sense – closer to mastery? His-feet shuffled back to standing composure resettled. Taking a breathing; believing unlikely with an exhaled-sigh. Yet his prismatic, fluttering inner-guide hadn’t steered him wrong. He’d boldly walk to this next-seek. Unknowingly that the perceived ‘inadequate’ heart-thrumming inside him, would be contested against warring deathly drums written; in scarlet-destiny. Whole barbarous Isle with a purely-dominating Nation of blood-thirsty predators, eating upon the world’s core effortlessly once again reawakened, stirring up on his beloved-seas, their appetite gluttonously, insatiable, devours in power, ruthless savages.

Collision tides were inevitably forecast to meet; in forces of two, Gorey seas of crimson-bloody murky polluted waters versus unfiltered gilded-gold with an illuminating sun-ray, overhead reflecting the tiniest semblance of hope, that encouraged invitation to waters.

#Barbarous #Present Timeline #ffxivwrite2023 #Tales of the Goldbrand #-Captain Kuro Solaire #This is going to lead into a huge story #So prepare for 300+ chapters #With many many layers and chains #Hopefully I can get the -start- done by end of year #FFXIVWrite #Sol Akami #Creative Writing #ffxiv writing #I might use the XIV prompts to motivate me even if the challenge isn't valid and gone. #Rather release this stuff in quality-in-mind #Cause this arc I've been working on for 4 years of buildin #Also might start making gif-borders #Just for flavor #I've been caught lackin' still but love this #I want to buy energy so badly :( #Need some stress-removing patches too #Scarlet Destiny: Volume 4 #Scarlet Destiny #SCD4

[captainkurosolaire]

[Insight]: 羨 Sol Nan 'Ak'ami 🎼

Don't worry, perfection is here.

Ft. @shadragonheart

#We are Tales #Insights #Sol Akami #Shipwright #FFXIV #Final Fantasy XIV #Screenshots #Gif #~insights~

[captainkurosolaire]

X2 ~ Eulogy of a Deadman

Reference ~ No Future ~ ♪"Moje More"♪ Gathering of black-donned Crew gathered around a small row boat. Coffin and flowers scattered in array alongside a Tricorne placed toppled delicately, with a picture-frame of a departed. Awaiting pyre and send-off into the open seas. First to speak was a Sea Maiden, and Counselor, Slafhota, whose hands clung together to keep from shaking holding a steep-burden. Prayers left to shambles. “He came to me in need. Seeking help, believing he was the biggest-screw up this realm has ever seen. But the-fact is his feet braved, open to my waters. He demonstrated conviction most wouldn’t achieve. Especially a pirate-nonetheless… I failed him. The depths of my words didn’t reach in-time.” Empathy writhed upon her visage, her shoulder gently tapped and escorted.

Changing positions. The Wildwood, Zieton, took the stage. “Didn’t care about the heady-pirate at-first. Loud, often obnoxiously-so, crude and boisterously-confident. But you couldn’t change-or-shake the fact at his core. He was genuine, it was obvious, wanting to remove people from misfortune. He would’ve gone to any-lengths to achieve that. Acquiring the world’s burden to retrieve.” Despite his rather-cool demeanor compared to others. His voice-quaked rivers, “My faith soon became… Was the desire, towards seeing him succeed.” Pushed off from the center, a commotion-irritated Raen, Sol ‘Nan’ Akami forged his way.

A ruckus darted-forth, broken-pitch quivering in a bark. Held back by two-other burly men, “Y-You cheeky feline-rat! Damn you!! I won’t forgive this! For leaving me the only survivor! YOU COWARD! WHO'S GONNA BE RESTORATION TO MY DESTRUCTION? I-I CAN’T RULE THE SEAS WITHOUT YOU!” Despite being once a deadly-foe and former enemy, he was broken-heart, that toughness and his often-jokester personality was removed. This was a brother’s grief. Even if not spoken-soon enough or heard in return often, it couldn’t sway their place from another. Fetching his pistol from holster, wanted to shoot that smug-face of the Seeker. But was deterred-away and seized from it, carried off. Small-lalafell, Me-Me, walked in replacement. “Mr.Hat was cool. I liked playing with him and pulling lots of pranks! Although he seemed angry with me a lot, I never felt like I wasn’t welcome and that’s something which made me really happy.” Talking more simply before rushing off to never show-glimpses of her sorrow. She was often the touted-indomitable demon no one could conceive or fathom.

Giant-burly, Hellsguard stomped the ground, dragging feet. Intense-fire often consumed him, now tears streaming down which doused him internally. “...I was fine living my peace, retreated from all. Never again knowing what glory would taste-like. Gave up on my ambition never knowing what I could achieve that’d make me feel-complete. Believing I could defeat-any adversity too easily. Then a broken-armed pirate showed up, kicking my door open and stepped on my cooked feast! Telling me so effortlessly, “Old-man, we’re going on a journey!” That brat-of-a-kid… Took me from my holed-in-solitude and forced me out to experiences. I-thought extinguished! …As I began sailing with you-lot, I started understanding what it means again, live-to-see. He made a believer-in-me and I will carry his dream for me with remaining eternity. With honor… To become a King among the Living. I see it now, that meaning… It’s the only King without a crown required, or throne and validation needed. You become it by simply being, and all your fellows, are your subordinates worthy to seize, there are truly no-enemies when freed.” Placing a hand-on-his-heart and burning against flesh, making an impactful scar of Captain’s memory. Symbolically carrying, fire of the deceased but more importantly… The Will. Casta who wrote his stories up to now and escapades, charting his Tales as a diary. She stumbled and couldn’t deter from whimpering. Taking moments before, “Long-ago, he saved me as a little-girl. I was enslaved, by a violent-father, at-least for what he bought me as. Yet Captain relinquished me, Brought me into the home-environment of another family altogether. He changed my life-around instantly. Became inspired, and so I wrote. Swore, I’d repay him! A hero-unsung for all to read… I studied-medical and medicinal means to bring relief like he did to a young-broken unguided soul. I helped his kind out, the pirates, crooks, outcasts, the one’s often shunned away because of their appearance. Who are we, to discriminate against what someone’s cover is? Doesn’t seem to be valid. The pages-written behind the cover, typically resides the part that matters. Summers-later. We convened by happenstance, fate-string tugged our way.” She changed-attitude becoming cheerful and happy recounting. “I got to meet him again! To mend to the best of my abilities. But in-the-end I couldn’t relieve him of great-injuries. Hurt to see him linger, pain stricken. …More than you could know. After-what-happened, I didn’t see myself anymore being useful, I sank below. Yet, always greets people with a infectious-smile. Telling me, “Casta, it’s because ye b’ th’ most human, is what reminds all ov’ us monsters or otherwise, what to still-be.” And suddenly I-felt again uplifted and at peace. E-Everytime! Everytime, I almost wanted to give-up on myself or this life. He took my wrists gently, the handsome rogue jumped in after me either in shallow-infested or shark-filled waters! EVERYTIME. Until, I couldn’t do anything left, but finally, see what he saw. My own-irreplaceable-worth. There’s no one-like that level of heroic-deed— only fantasy. Wouldn’t ever think he was capable-of-that, he was always going to surprise you.” Again her emotions-changed like thunder, now fury took over. First-time she spoke-loudly, and up for her-self or another, she used to be the most silent-timid. Now she had become a lioness for preserved memory.

“It’s unfair Thal’s balls! Why are the one’s born in Twelve’s favor or God’s boon, get every recognition, praise, but first-ones to retreat from history?! Why are they the ones remembered for legendary acts but one’s who’ve been here every-day Sun to Moon with every single-breath they are making our life-flourish forth, civilizations ushering, by giving new generations education, hand-outs in their most timely-need, not given the same?” Her fist-sledgehammered down on the podium. “You were the best of them. My sailor hero!” She left with anguished remorse gritting teeth. The arranging-voices heard so far and the imprint placed. The departed-soul managed to imprint on them that made their nature’s be thwarted. Unlikely a Noble, Lord Shiro Elune, of pristine-white but with a black-flower on his suit, drew up with elegance bearing all-the-markings of regality. “We were sworn-beings always at odds. I massacred his Crew when we first-met, afterall. He couldn’t overcome our gaps and the league of power I had over him. He was flawed.  From ideologies, stances, ethics. The scoundrel was determined more than any I ever met. He opposed anything with boldness, a charismatic charm that made you want to cheer for him. A showman. Spotlight that he shared with, overtime... You would-recognize; against any dismay. Among history, perhaps, the greatest failure. But because of that, is why many could-identify themselves with him, whether they wished, or knew not…” He showed-a-former, scoff of superiority, “P-fft wasn’t anyway, I could be factored in with the everyday and mundane… You all reeked with insecurities, you’re all leeches, parasites, complain and whimper about what you were born-with or not, making excuses as handicaps. Yet when I visited you in the Brumes, or your piss-covered environments, your legs-unmoved, all-you-walk, as if-you're-not losers! Hand-outs are what most of you commoners want fed. You dream-too-big, too vastly that it taints and pollutes all you come in-contact with. You demand-validation from your peers; despite knowing it’s an echo-chamber and your sentimental words and beliefs, ushering so foolishly, brazenly, you’re certain of yourselves among that group of fellow-collected sheep's! Listen, you'll never-amount to anything or anyone truthfully! Imbeciles, you cannot-deter history! You cannot change Hierarchy or Order! No matter how free you are. You aren’t saints, protagonists of stories, or Warriors of Light nor of Night, exceptionally never will-be anything but fodder for the ones who rule iron-supreme.” At this point-everyone attending booed demanding him-off stage and was irritated at this pompous Keeper who distinguished himself-above so highly.

“...However.” A twist was coming as the mob-was-overwhelmingly on the verge of rioting at a most unholy-timing. Clear and loud with authority. “I will admit my former notion was this; once a time. Yet this heathen behind, single-handedly changed all-these thoughts of certainties and brought questions back to them!” The crowd stopped, dumbfounded. Hanging on every-word this Noble Lord demonstrated. “Yes. Indeed I’d consider him no-longer an enemy. Although, I won our encounters often. He had defeated me too without being seen. Changing-my-perception. I acted impulsively, dishonored duels, acted on arrogant-egotistical-means I harbored and sheltered as deceitful pride. I thought, everything I did was-justifiably, fact. Groomed to be-placed above an echelon, higher-than-all who sees. But I fell from grace, my fiance and child even forsake my name upon their lips. When I failed these-ways, I had no idea how to handle it… That accursed-man with a golden crest, oh, he knew… He always knew, fought against my sake or for it, inconceivably! Now I stand upon this wake. I say! Honor him greatly and openly. You’ve proven, Noble, friend.” The regal-man did the unthinkable act. Others wouldn’t believe it. Taking a kneel before the burial-site. Lowering his head-to-ground level. Relinquishing his former-rapier that shared connection between the-two souls and beneath the Tricorne hat-of-the-former wielder. 

Thought and believed, Forever Destined. Tears-bellowed out from the crowd, moved once again. Diamond-encrusted tear crystals fell from the eyelids of the Keeper.

Further attenders close to the departed gave their speeches. Until the last Crewmate was brought up, Judas Caesar the First Crewmate who had deep-personal history off-and-on, back and forth chemistry. Tear-stained-eyes, looking once again like a battered-prince, who lost his entire-Kingdom. "...I" He couldn't get any words to wind. Despite owning that affinity. You could-practically hear a heart-pitch whining from his throat. "I-loved him. Wish I got a chance to say it, more things, left to the endless space. ...There was-no one else, I felt that strongly about, a soul-mate of the seas, could really only say. Promised me we'd get to my destination of my former-origins so-early on, made my dream's inked on his own sleeve, he was a different-type of cat, no pun-intended. See... When we got on the right-pace, all-things-aligned, I never felt like I wasn't at home." He empathized every-memory so fondly and vividly. "I did a lot of damage to him, we've our past, never out of disdain, hatred-made. His commitments and expectations placed on himself were deeper than ravines, those scars-any saw him with. Was type of guy, who never met any diversity or challenge too big for him. Even marooned, castaway, left on land, forced to survive and thrive. He always recovered the meaning to breathe, and taught others how too as well. As you've seen today... All that's, possibly, left now." "Rest ever Free." "Captain Of These Seas." An-arrow was emitted from springing bow-string for the last-blaze, as the ship was left to go burning, on and on, in lovely-blues, to hopefully find peace, the discovery he desired to always seek.

#Bark #FFxivWrite2023 #ffxivwrite2023 #-Captain Kuro Solaire #Slafhota #Sol Akami #Gark #Lord Shiro Elune #Casta #Zieton Luiard XII #Me-Me Worthy #Judas Caesar #Tales of Goldbrand #Creative Writing #I should've known #Never meant to be. #FFXIVWrite

[captainkurosolaire]

Traitor

Downpour ceased into a gentle fall. Darkened clouds drifting with precipitation forewarned of a looming critical storm, yet faint, a hint of warmth, that circular Sun concealed from its duty could be given peer. Swelling with emotions of loss, amongst his own abode. A ship’s anchor was removed allowing tides their commandment of destiny. Blackguard, taking center deck, a shout bellowed out. “Come out. You’ve won, before I die here. I desire my why.” His gut-instinct knew who the culprit was. Defeat written in his body-language, slouching posture from deceit. He told the Crew to leave but the treacherous snuck aboard a scent the Miqo’te picked up. Paced feet drew forth from creeping shadows, a cloaked individual wearing a mask of Imitation of Mistbeard. Even alone, cowardice mind games are played. While a silver-pointed pistol with engravings <Silver Wind> had been locked onto the Captain since departure. Frowning unruly symbolism, apparel was a legacy attire the Goldbrand of Old used to assassinate, ruthlessly collecting hoards of other pirates, merchants, civilians. Ingrained steep into the culture of piracy. They took Mistbeard’s legend to commit heinous acts. As the original mask held reputation, to pass down from various others; to wretched few, there was a scapegoat to hide crime behind another's identity. None could ever replicate Mistbeard. A King transcended time itself for as long as the actual mask exists, or the imitations, nothing could be forgotten; eternity. This betrayer knew Captain better than any advisory. Two distinct paths taken from a crossroads once shared. Since pre-teens to adulthood.  Sole-survivors. Muffled laughter came from behind that mask, pleased with themselves, before the hooded figure drew a slow methodical grasp on it to pull for identity already known.

The Seeker squinched eyebrows angrily before howling, “We were Skull Brethren! I vouched for you! Three decades between us, growing up beside another, trained! Back to back, front to front! You wanted a Crew like this for sometime! But you fed ruin. WHY! Speak, Sol!” His fanged teeth grit together. Upon name ushered, the Raen revealed himself, discarding Mistbeard’s false mask, tugging off his shadow drapes, revealing an arsenal of a tactical strapped assortment of pistol’s and ammunition enough for atrocious war crimes. Clapping hands together continuously with mockery. “CAPTAIN KURO SOLAIRE.” Following his words like a conductor each word drawn out. “The Infamous Captain Kuro Solaire…. From Harems, magazine covers, large bounties. Denizen’s traversing called you in passerby, The Next Pirate King;  Hells.. The girl I was fond of even wrote about you in her Diary, to her you’re a beacon hero.” Thievery showing-off he held Casta’s journal,  “To her you’re a saint! – Maybe she’s right. Cause’ of you, I’ve saved this realm on three disgusting counts!” Captain’s face showed disbelief, what an ego, talk about something to complain about, snickered to himself letting this condescending praise draw.. The traitor’s tone changed into resentment with a burst. “...But I know who you really are. Over-hyped and rated, you are played out! – I should be the Captain, swimming in recognition, I’m a Pope of the Seas, If anyone’s ascending to King it’s me! I have achieved everything without help, unlike you. Know why? I don’t spare people who cross me, I don’t let my emotion’s get between my fortune. I ERASE them with what comes out from this barrel. You GREW weak on land. Soft as a butterfly. Forgetting who, what we are! We’re PIRATES. Conquerors, everything is subjugated as our rightful claim… Makes me vomit, protecting, compassion, trying to be moral. – You think I was your brother? I couldn’t ever be. Not when I’m a designated shadow, watching you HOIST to the top, you’re a glorified showman. Which piggy-back off me! I’m the creator of where our feet grace, this ship wouldn’t move without me! I won’t be stolen from you ever again!” Shooting bullets into the air with lunacy, demonstrating his dominant Freedom.

Captain never met this side of Sol before was suppressed this his depth? Even unbeknownst to him, two-faced. Long ago an incident occurred where the troubled-Raen had gouged out their own Founding Captain’s eye with a fork, for being commanded. Is this alter-ego the same culprit? This other persona seemed to maliciously come out of nowhere. Was this Garlemald’s influence from being enslaved by them until earning conscription? Nay… This part existed somewhere inside him. Brought to dawn from an event outside Captain’s knowledge. The sun-kissed clad in black stepped daringly forth. “Envy? Huh.” Judgemental amber orbs, infuriating his seething brother-no-more. “Stole from ye? I’ve never been like you, or others upon the original Crew. I couldn’t kill for sport. You relish in making others drown in red. I chose to make others float in pleasure, I gave them my worth, for a small price of a selfish memento to carry with me on high seas. Aye, some, I broke hearts, swindled, hurt but they live now stronger to despise me. I’ve gotten what comes around. You perceive denizen of th’ land feeble? Nay, my mate… They’ve surpassed us! Many can LIVE in Peace! Fine with what they have and got! Can we say that? We struggle stopping after a taste of wealth. Eventually something valuable turns into trash if taken for granted! Accustomed to replacing fer a shiny new thing. Our bond relates t’ this reality. I don’t get it, ye never bothered being Crew’s jester, what changed?” Exhaling bottled lament, showing utter disappointment. The self-proclaimed Pope, snickered and canted his head, “You want to settle down, I’m supposed to follow you? Your ambition is seeing others fulfilled, wow! How generous! Or wait; this for Freedom and Love? Pathetic. Kuro I knew once had unshakable rebellious fire. — For some insane reason. Our Founding Captain chose YOU to be the next successor despite, I'm the senior. He groomed you to replace him. I’ve been discarded as second-rate. When Judas came back, guess what happened? You demoted me back to Shipwright! The reason I put up with being a Jester, is so I can be in the court of the supposed king and usurper him.” Viscous jealousy continued to rattle against the Captain.

Disagreeable shake of his head accompanying a chuckle, “I didn’t have a choice to pick up, after our Captain. If you weren’t lost to the sea and placed into the clutches of Garlemald. Things would’ve been different. Frankly, I’m glad you didn’t inherit this mantle. Cause you disregard all life. From other mercenaries employed, to any semblance in recreating your own Goldbrand with Silverbrand, you mentioned stealing? Ye become polluted by entitlement. – People judged you initially on having any affiliation with the Garleans. Not including your pirate background. I played advocate trusting the side I saw of you, now I’ve painfully learned is fiction. You b’ another insufferable dickless prick. Lobbing blows in the dark, a type who’d sell out his own brother, break up his family.” Spitting on the side with disgust. Striking a nerve from the mercenary, but showing composure quickly. Remembering he held all the power with his firearm. “...Underestimate me, Cap’n. I don’t have a family, I butchered them. You should’ve listened to others, maybe they would’ve stuck around. Where is your Crew now? Ayla? Sivir? Everyone is gone, you’re left to perish alone. What has kindness rewarded you ever? – Nobhead, every-time you visited that orphanage, each Starlight donated your share of hoards to them. I TOOK it back to my trove. All your movements and poor attempts to advance as a person, I rectified them.” Deplorable veracity shown, crueler than death. Stunned by the slimy low, the fathomless spite. The most dangerous enemies to possess are those who've been closest. No resolve to fight anymore. He didn’t react with explosiveness or anger even though, knowing that’s what Sol wanted for that rough-destructive, smash-mouth Captain to come out. “I did make a grave underestimation… What exactly, ye want Mr.Perfection? Still you haven’t broken-even yet, taken enough from me!?” Engulfed by sorrow his throat tugged, how do you combat someone you found dearly to be purely a facade after thirty years! It took only a moment before cherished memories shattered.

He couldn’t understand what this version of foul Sol tried to convince him, become or achieve. To Kuro this was pointless, unbridled envy and unfortunately, his opponent had mentally deleted his resolve. “What I’ve always wanted. – The Successor Crown atop your head.” Sol’s thick Garlean accent gave his demand. “I can tell, you’ve no willpower to fight me. Remember who I am… Try not to hurt yourself, but think, Captain. I KNOW all about you, I’ve followed you everywhere. Saw houses of all your ACTUAL treasures. I could send some mail over to your hearties on the land and they’ll get an unexpected present, that’s surely going to blow them away.” Purest of evil distorted his putrid face, no limit! Existing on lengths, Sol would go to obtain his believed rightful claim. The unholy mark of Scourge gave rise in plain-sight. Captain’s depleted form began straightening, his entire being, resolving aether in fury from a despicable blackmail…  His reason to fight returned. “...Y-You… m-monster!” Previous devil’s encountered in his past and brought their bane couldn’t compare to this level of malice, menace, a brotherhood eaten alive by hatred.

🌊 ♫Gasoline♫ - Reference - Last Chapter 🌊

(Shoutout to my roomie since Sol is his muse, always reliable on brainstorming story ideas together.)

#Gonna do Hat lore next I think #Maybe do some childhood background stories #FFXIV #Creative Writing #Tales of the Goldbrand #FF14 #-Captain Kuro Solaire #Traitor Arc #End of an Era #Envy Sprouts #Scourge vs Pledger #Sol Akami #Silverbrand #Skull Brethern #Going full throttle on this feud

[captainkurosolaire]

Hat

Rain pattered a window leaving streaks of tears unable to get indoors to solace. Desperately seeking but unable to fulfill against that barrier for entry. Envy wasn’t far from this notion. Many associate those of envious characteristics heartless. Although, perhaps it was an undeveloped soul crying out internally. Across a looming battlefield, Captain laid confronted against a blood brother. Unrecognizable memories flash-flooded from street-urchins, to trainees to playing pretend pirates, to becoming their own troublesome pirates! Under their flagship with tutelage of a shared surrogate Captain Father, for two believed unwanted bastards. Even as tension drew, each anticipating the first-to-move a hinted rushing storm-breeze blew through the middle of them. Sol didn’t focus sight intently on Captain, but what he coveted. For him jealousy made excuses for everything and suppressed anyone's achievements. Once as a boy to motivate his depleted aspirations, when he was on the precipice of giving up hope. His Founding Captain sat him down, then told him to aim ambitiously for stars out of reach! He proceeded to put the weight of his Tricorne upon his nestling head, and tell an incredible story. That simple bland seemingly fabric which was common amongst seafarers. Whoever gained this particular one he don under its possession could own Fortune itself, manipulate their own tides. That whoever became Successor aboard who proved themselves in seafaring would be allowed to commune with the mighty Sea itself. Crown of Fortune, Sol perceived it. However this story is false. The Founding Captain fabricated it to uplift his aspiring youth to soar heights! Because the moral was – if you do-not set destinations of unfathomable, you may never claim something of wealth in your limited life. It’s not a sin to own dreams, conquest, to wish a hoist of these! Life is minuscule compared to the infinite potential willpower can overcome. That tremendous blue laid host of unpredictability. Amongst the oceans, waves held habits to be gentle and graceful, kind, calming and inviting. Other times, it could prove rampantly angered and swept the strongest! Impossible tempered with no control against it, a force of wildness.

To make noise against a space canvas of such trifling and competitive water. You must become a survivor of undeniable, adaptability. Sea bred spirit’s and souls of hosted warriors that all showcased larger than life personas. A requirement! The true students, masters of the sea, even grew to gain powers that were comparable. Almighty and powerful with foreboding disaster, serving them to Conquer or Liberate. Those who became imbued with the sea. Became personifications of the ocean wherever they went commanding Presence. With it, their step’s alone. Picked up noise that could make their own ripples, create their own fortune, by their aura alone, knees quaked, legs shook in horror, hearts opened. Inspiring many seafarers to chase on and brave any unknown, they were called the bold; they followed stories of their predecessors, learning history, becoming it, from Tales, Fables, Myths on their own volition, they gave belief unlike any other! At a moment’s glance when they saw their sea. That peered into endless Freedom. To acquire their versions of it. Sol believed in his heart. That Captain… Betrayed him in a twisted way. That Hat had to be the reason for accomplishments and luck.

[The Truth.] That the Hat didn’t define the Man. Captain Kuro Solaire! Defined it. What was nonsensical fabrication became reality. A massacre of fire, a shipwreck of travesty had left the Seeker mourning over all his comrades. Injured by a historical noble rival yet given proper color and made. When Captain symbolically picked up the Hat believing he was the sole-survivor. He compassionately vowed he’d become a formidable force that stood among the tallest, with a head raised up. He had every reason to not want to live and to give up. Would’ve if not moved by the Sea who was his inspiration since a boy that carried promise beyond abuse, neglect and loneliness. In that company something drew him against the water’s edge, he felt alive, and became determined to make his own wealth, fate, and he’d fight for it. Submitting before it, should a threat arise too impossible to overcome. To hear the unseen. Acknowledge every indifference and ride not from; but to it openly! A ship of their former Goldbrand laid in ruins and with recently attaining the mantle. Challenging himself to brave the sea’s with a small rowboat and an ore. Navigating the entire Five Seas. He didn’t wish to acquire his own pirate ship or crew and proved directionless, experience was required to obtain. Traversing, the boy braved many treacherous storms, waves, but with his heritage of heightened senses those ears became sharper. He began listening and following what his surroundings were attending to do. When nature sang he didn’t misjudge it, instead began singing sea shanties. Flowing and moving, stopping when needed. Trusted instinct and his family heirloom compass. Upon sleeping in the rowboat. He greeted each day with the sea like a companion and talked to it. Shouting, “ Where were they going today?” They charted across Eorzea’s map and globe! Taking-in tremendous sights, encountering peril dangers, evading or contesting against forces that attempted to eat his only life and perseverance with that tiny wood giving float. Across the end of his journey. He was confronted by an all-powerful spirit mentioned, she possessed beauty unrivaled! A fierceness that warped all his senses. Although she appeared frightening and brought down many who neglected and mistreated her presence, and corrupted, who polluted her waters, the pirate saw through the surface and realized that was his companion this entire journey. She offered him a harrowing trial and quest that would forever see him bond eternally to the seas forever until he reached the end of that task. If pledged, and underwent this challenge, She’d offer her boon. From his incredible journey of spirit-discovery, His Founding Captain’s cherish Hat, was brought to tatters. Upon accepting her creed they forged a union between a simplest fabric. Carrying mementos of all he had traversed, sharing the journeys from sea, to land, to spirit’s, sky, turmoil, fear, all burdens, heartbreak, everything was carried between that Hat -- like prying open a treasure chest after finding the 'X' burial spot to a long-chased and sought out hunt. When her Captain returned, that Hat’s knowledge passed on everything by their devoted champion. Whatever condition it served to be under or was tossed into the seas, it returned, rising with rejuvenation like him and fulfilled him to be reborn! Awaiting him at the next port for a new mystical destination to chart. A Hat of a symbolic Promise. The seafarer wasn’t given extra divination or power. He received merely an eternal companion. To prevail over that harrowing journey the spirit offered, there was no mention of a reward. Because within depth, he had it. Freedom.   To become Vast and Wild as the Sea itself.

[ ♫New World Coming♫ - Reference - Last Chapter

[Special shout-out & credit to the Ft. @the-littlest-kojin for her screenshot and collaborative incredible muse, Saltsong! -- Also to roomie for Sol.] --------------------------------------------------------------------------

#Given Color. #FF14 #Creative Writing #Tales of the Goldbrand #-Captain Kuro Solaire #Saltsong #Sol Akami #Blood-Brothers #Traitor Arc #Hat Origins #Man of the Five Seas #Into Wild. #Final Fantasy XIV #We still ontop this daily business' #Fk yeah #[Saltsong] #Hat.

[captainkurosolaire]

Sunbreak Treachery

  A dazzling-sun prospered over storm clouds, forming a beautiful sun-break. With hints written in them, one had to ponder, would these same clouds overtake skies again? A showdown between Skull-Brethren represented the same sentiment below. Dark Cloud or Sunshine, who’d prevail? “You’re makin’ a mess, o’ brother of' mine… What's th’ matter matey isn’t this what you wanted?” Sarcastically overseeing Sol clenching his chest wound, crimson ichor leaking between his fingers, barely managing to keep his balance on their fighting-grounds, atop their flagship mast. A guttural snarling foamed, clenched teeth gave forth reply, “...I don’t understand, y-you falter and fail against everyone… But not against m-me!?” Blinded through sheer hallucination, his superiority, an actual ego of genuine perfection was him, nobody could prove otherwise. History repeating itself Judas who enacted a betrayal before stabbed to Captain from behind, when this Seeker was his lowest, but he arose through maroon and ashes, bringing crushing defeat to the front. Silver-treacherous, was learning harshly this. “...Ye b’ correct. I don’t often claim victory against many, merely I survive. However, you’ve awakened something inside me… N’ unfortunately fer you, it’s not below my waist. Also I’ve a track record of one you’ve witnessed first-hand. I don’t lose t’ demons or devils, I beat th’ living shite out of ‘em. Cause there’s nothing I pity more than an existence that only thrives to suckle on teets t’ get by. What’s Voidal can never beat someone who truly Lives. It doesn’t help yer scenario I know way too much about ya’. As lil o’ street urchins; like this. I know yer fighting habits, I’ve seen you, just as much; you’ve me… Except there’s a difference. You maliciously peer jealousy - while I admired. As you’ve said, you’re my senior!” The victorious seemingly-standing pirate reigned over with a definitive message. Tugging at the conscripted ex-Garlean profoundly, overwhelming seething fury ate it. A realization he didn’t want to accept… More core side of him, somewhere harbored elsewhere, felt that genuine message, he was revered in his own-way and was enough, as himself. Yellow hues betrayed the Raen for a moment, blinding-rage fumed up before raising up from his weakened posture. Tapping a part underneath his collarbone that activated surgical augmentation to accelerate his heart rate and rhythm to give him more stamina and a bolster of aether. Unfinished with this result.

Confused, Kuro, who was about to walk off,  prepared himself back into battle-stance with a disheartening sigh. “I-I will not lose. You’re the pathetic one! Unable to rebuild anymore! The Crew won’t ever return, you’ve broken and strung by fleeting tape. You couldn’t overcome the mental torment of failure.” With Sol’s remaining good-hand he withdrew a sheathed hilt towards a clan blade hidden between his back-buckle, his own Family Heirloom. Unlike traditional Hingashi katana’s, its blade opened with a pressing switch like an instantaneous box-cutter. A foul, malevolent, aether flux shrieked out, with a howling banshee scream that nearly pierced Captain’s ear-drums. That malefic blade…Became corrupted, passed on through dynasty heirs traditionally. But Sol slaughtered his noble right’s to gain ownership turning something pure and sacred that once was prestigious held by a Samurai, to be an incarnation of evil. To bring out such blatant lengths against Captain, really showed how far he was lost. Sol by no-means had expertise in using a sword but overcame his comfort against all his dismay, out of unbound hatred. Disheartening, the Blackguard showed sympathy, frowning, and placed one of his own blades and shoved it into wood between his feet. Bringing an overabundance of confidence or wanting to play honor among thieves. A pure formed sword-clash broke out, each of them using their strengths and full bodily weight while trying to keep composure of balance, they exchanged and teetered to one-end of the Mast to the other, both drawing close. Getting minor fencing cuts and stabs. Sol’s blade even though he wasn’t a viable wielder, the weapon carried him with how much force it dealt. As a result he began winning the second-exchange tie up. Captain’s eyelids became startled, as he began suddenly seeing phantasms protruding from Sol’s accursed steel, a manifestation of malice. The form of Sol’s undoubted father in resemblance, who he somehow could even hear. <”Miserable thief… You’re UNWORTHY of carrying our last name! Our clan will be unrest until you’re taken to wretched Seven Hells!”> Raen was forming excessive sweat, that brand served against the possessor, weighing heavier continuously each swing. The malevolent spirit was actually squeezing and wrapping its incorporeal form around his wrist, searing his palm. The Scoundrel witnessing this horrifying event, with Sol seemingly only feeling effects, it brought his concentration out of guard for a moment to see a specter like this in-the-flesh. He was improperly blocked with improper form. Causing his steel to break under the pressure and snap. This made Captain stumble off the mast. Sol satisfyingly grinned but that feline rogue’s cunning tail caught his fall, third armed. Giving Captain enough time to swing with a momentum to athletically put a singular hand back on the top-mast. Traitorous Sol charged forth, aiming to deliver one strike to decapitate Captain’s peaking hand, just needing a downward slash. More malevolent family spirit’s of Sol’s murderous transgressions began tightening around his wrists, Sister, favored child although younger was selected for being Heir, his Taoist Mother, and the rampaging dishonored Father who disowned his son knowing Sol’s putrid side. His Raen’s scale protecting him was melted, now felt real agonizing pain, adrenaline couldn’t suppress it anymore. Captain wasn’t sure where or why those spirit’s could be seen, but he was engaged in battle, so took the opportunity to retrieve himself, with a swing and flip back atop from a pull-up. He ran a full dash-sprint, leapt off the hilt of his old discarded blade from earlier and round-kicked Sol’s own blade flat-blade. Which saw him tumbling backward, falling on his rump and becoming disarmed. Trying to fetch composure and stand up, but Captain awaited with his finishing new technique instinctual given birth… They started on here with rock-paper-scissors who’d rig, and it’d end this way with a killer-combination.

On Sol’s come up, Scissors came by, a double-poke gouge to eyes. That had him screaming howling, defensively blockading being hit like that again a natural response to someone untrained, and left his chin-exposed. Rock followed-through; a gnarly uppercut with Captain’s pent-up temper. That saw the Raen upchuck his saliva in disbelief, his world-rocked, unused to being physically dominated, he fought like every other pain-staking coward who hid behind range only in a battle or with explosives with attacks from stealth that often were set on always winning. Lastly was the ending blow, his heel’s teetering on the mast’s edge, tail-attempting to redistribute his weight, pleading that Raen squealed, “W-WAIT!” Before Captain ceremoniously unleashed an open-palm, Paper to his torso with a formidable shove. Spilling off, although before plummeting below into the ocean awaiting judgment for treachery, surprised mercy came with Captain grabbing his wrist. “Damn your insufferable pity, you’re saving me now!? – I hate you! I’ll kill you! Including everyone we know! Now, let me GO!” Still unbelievably, rage overtook the spiteful Raen. He kept swinging back, flailing trying to make Captain’s sailor grip-loosen. That brash pirate with warmth surrounding him gave a crooked golden beam. “...Aye. Upon land their denizen’s taught me, even though we’ve prone t’ know on sea, we herald their methods inferior, that compassion. They’ve normalized and made sibling squabbles natural, they disown each other too. …But their resolve is commendable, even if it takes time to mend through vile animosity. ‘Cause they’re solely, blood-bound they don’t give-up on another! We’re th’ last two-alive from our former Crew… Should yer path b’ Destruction. Then I’ll just become stronger than you, and provide Restoration. Ye b’ right-about many things, I did fail Crew, n’ ye, as Captain. Me not having an ambition even if out-of-reach or attainable, to have something to ascend towards; makes one aware how to grow forth. Now, I’ve a direction… I can raise higher t’ the standards you set, n’ expect. C’mon, surrender!” Sol’s resenting and resilience gave a sudden pause, irritation quelling, but it was a calming facade. “You actually think… That trivially, I’ll concede!? Your kindness will ruin you again. And when it does, mark my words, you’ll become, no-better than me, blight akin to myself. All the preaching of goodness, light you bring…  those accursed eyes… Constantly shining against darkness. Will collapse, you’ll be confronted with the forces we ran to maintain freedom! That we both know, are impossible to overcome. Irrefutable tides, power-beyond-power, none can oppose, and it’ll come for your sanctuary. When it does, either you’ll be at the forefront butchering to survive; thrive. Or die empty, as nothing! Screw your PITY!” He’d oppose it with a devastating omen. Captain felt a disturbing tingly sensation, in tone and mannerism, at this point, Sol’s characteristic traits in this manner were predictable, malicious-intent was expected. Sol in his crafty dialogue, took a stray-bullet, often his final-gambit, holstered on his pant’s leg, and curled it around his tail’s tip expertly used it to fling, with velocity at speeds, towards Captain’s visage looming over, to hold, it carried enough force, for puncturing. This gave Kuro no choice, to relent. Granting the Raen what he wanted, relief, a submersion into the waters, despite knowing he couldn’t swim. Something would’ve been expected but his other natural-state was uncaring, never wanting to learn or commit, expecting things handed, always looking for ways around thalassophobia flaws, perceiving them as his qualities. Actually, stupid-luck was his treasure, about to run dry. Struggling, splashing around like a fish-out-of-water only making his distress begin sinking him, disgruntled waves swayed against his mismanaged energy. Soon he’d join the fellow sea-bed Brethren of their Goldbrand and die. In his final-moment’s everything was becoming extinguished. Perhaps his real motive was just to create a new monster, or break Captain with his demise, or somewhere internally wanted this painstaking defeat, to empower the Seeker’s betterment it seemed, his confidence was showing again. If it wasn't noticed; it could be-said all these transpired in Sol’s fragmented madness. “FOOL!” The Seeker gave an upsetting roar. The same scar-over his eyelid reopened by the bullet shredded against flesh, blood coursing down, his Star-Sight capturing the projectile barely with a knick. Never letting his impeccable Miqo’te instinct’s be second-guessed against Sol, it saved his life this time around. But vaulting a projectile only dampened the initial impact from fatality, this still would blind Captain to use an eye-patch to recover the damage of using this technique, used rarely to overcome viscous battles. He shot the projectile out by reopening the star-gate pupil, but coldness lingering in his body with sharp spasms, something wasn’t right. Another poison ran its course, draining him. …So he was supposed to just give-up and allow this be how it ends? Despite standing a chance to rescue a Crewmate for once, to decide an outcome, act heroically and slice through fate’s string. “Fuck yer way!” He said callously before brazenly jumping off the mast, swan diving after his drowning fellow… <’Nay, matey. I’ll sail this black!’> Went in his mind, his own-daughter’s voice carrying him, <“Dying isn’t suffering or learning mistakes, like Living through them is! Knowing difficulty, repenting harshly.”> She mercilessly sentenced upon his dead-beat ass, so Sol wasn’t off-the-hook.

He swam to the bottom in pursuit to depths, Sol fading in consciousness, but the Seeker latched, grabbed and secured his arm over his broad shoulder. The moment he connected, his strength, adrenaline, everything was dampening. His vision, completely dissolved, lost obscurity. All his senses lost underwater, only touch; feel left. Mind fogging rapidly, holding his breath. He hadn’t any boundless strength to swim and lift them out of this peril, not in this condition. Instead of panicking, in the deep. Not contesting the current’s force and wasting his reservoirs, he noticed above the surface-water before his dissension below, his Tricorne floating, that catalyst way to commune. Praying to Gods, often weren’t associated with his brand of outcast pirates. But no choice, to submit, faith and fate was the only solution, Otherwise they’re hopelessly dead. With feel, to grant communion alone, his aether pulling outwardly a light-source, his soul creating noise. <Saltsong. I’ve a request. I hate to sound like I'm ushering command over you. A sea cannot be;  I need, desperately, a tide of fortune, of yours. I’m supposed to exterminate Scourges that may pollute these waters… Please understand, I cannot do it with this one, they’re the closest to an actual sibling I've ever had. But I’ll become his Order.”> A favor asked by an Oceanic Kami’s chosen, surrendering to his burdens and markings. The sea's held emotion’s bound and moved, transmuting the message throughout the great-blue, beyond vast fathom. Captain’s body laxing, nearly about to relinquish.

Silence seemed to dreadfully be answered, before panic settled-in, a reply came, miraculously waves swept up, rushing rumbling and back, with ferocious current, swinging them forth and around with gyrating whirls, before a huge tidal met them and washed the pirates forcefully onto the deck. His infamous Hat alongside them. Their old pirate’s flag they once resided under fell under the pressure. Renewal was now, Sunshine claimed this climactic fight. Upchucking water in lungs, recuperating from hitting the lower-mast hard, he sprawled on elbows and gave everything in strength, to give rough compressions and revitalize Sol, once breathing returned to his feline-hearing, the brutish Seeker collapsed on his back. “Thanks, Sea… I ow–” The poison appeared relative to a tranquilizing shot, finally claiming the scoundrel. The Worldly Finder left aimless sailing with no manning. It’d prove too dangerous unless a force gave intervention, the vessel’s direction suddenly shifted towards a storm over yonder distant one that’d brave forth with fair-wind to the nearest shore, a sensational, tide rushed outward a precursor, that voyage of Captain’s journey stirring only up. What exactly, and who he served to be was almost uncovered. Suddenly able to see-the-unseen. Ability to commune with greater-spirits, to traverse spiritual consciousness, manifest and change his soul-alignment, alongside transform, fighting styles adaptive, alike nature itself. Or drawing the abundance of various diversities into company. There was one explanation, all linked to these phenomena. Perish his other-half, spiritual guide butterfly, told him the answer lies where he untraveled, never thinking it was important, but by never applying questions, answers cannot exist, especially where your actual-self resides, placing forever  a piece of identity into limbo. His journey called out to return where it should’ve begun. With his Shadowy Father to figure out who exactly indeed, was his Mother. Sequential, learning himself. ♫Sail into the Black♫ - Reference - Last Chapter

Mention: @the-littlest-kojin​ (With their incredible, Saltsong)

#Traitor arc end #Tales of the Goldbrand #Movie-sized #Reader Discretion Advised #-Captain Kuro Solaire #Creative Writing #FFXIV #Final Fantasy XIV #Sol Akami #sol #Blood-brother #Path of Trascendence #Saltsong

[captainkurosolaire]

Dreamer of Dreams

 How important are dreams? Chasing things beyond us sometimes grant us strength to surpass limits, to courageously endure for our vision. Over time a Pirate’s own became misconstrued, failures, losses piled up and his grandeur became murky. Losing a partial, vital piece of essence. Children call them dreams, but upon nurture, it was called Ambition! Without having a strong-self interest, he couldn’t relate or jump the hurdle for others, initially sought.  Now rectification came to retrieve what was lost. The First-Stage to Healing.

By plucking his lost spirit within obscurity, a reversion of his zenith came. That horrendous fog vaporized to magnificent sunlight. Matured figure of the boy-to-be, extended his arm’s out, it was time to go home. In their embrace, unbridled warmth quaked from a reunion of resolve. A wide-spread grin surfaced externally Captain’s injuries stung, ached, nevertheless something swelled within himself, the belief to achieve, in absolution. He sprung a bounce to his soles, kip-up. With finesse, began reassembling his own mind-games against his Skull Brethren, since started off this way, donning his original attire, fetching dual-blade’s of Hingan that were sworn off to prevent incidental death. Black-blood face paint ran across his eyelids, not only repulsing the dead itself; used to aid him in becoming brave that required adversity, now just meant to trigger Sol's distress. Sol took aim to shoot-down Captain’s butterfly who came from the cabin’s keyhole to cause misdirection, the spirit-guide, named Perish, fluttered between his limbs, barely evading swatting and squishing attempts. Soon found himself pulverized by a door that flew off the hinges suddenly as the Seeker sprinted with full on collision from a drop-kick, then surfboarding it, trampling his rib-cage. “Always told ye t’ fix that blimey door!” Giving a befitting punishment to the Shipwright, squished with the cabin’s door on him, Kuro kicked Sol’s silver-wind pistol into the waters, then blitzed towards climbing to the top-mast where their sail-flag awaited. Mistbeard’s mask still onlooking their pirate-battle. The ex-Garlean conscript, struggled temporarily, wind knocked out of him, before angrily following pursuit, spare pistol <Live Free> brought out taking shots at the climbing cat-folk, who intelligibly utilized line-of-sight climbing alongside the mast’s with his heritage-expertise, forcing the gun-wielder to pursue, climbing up to the top with sheer agitation, this would be done in a duel-fashion now.

Atop the mast, where they’d wage their last-sequence as blood-brothers turned enemies. Sol finally arrives behind in his pursuit, seeing Captain more closely. He was unnerved, a deplorable golden-crest smile was on him, the markings of jolly, complete fulfillment, it always brought him anger. As if a Sun was looking beneath him, nothing he could do would discourage the heat, his traditional means to kill, erase, all left meaningless in pursuit. His brow twitched into a frown. That deviant-rogue staring across him spoke, “Thanks t’ ye mate. I found irreplaceable value in me. I’m afraid… I’ll b’ stealing n’ cucking ye, again of something. Could race to see who reaches ascension firstly or lastly there! Like ol’ times… But I’ve got t’ slay your dark-cloud, it’s cramping my vibes.” Candidly bringing back a memento, it’s like time-flowed back, to not-long-ago, they used to rock-paper-scissors for who rigged, or climbing up on the masts, doing contests to one-up another in brotherly competition. “Also – I’ve decided. I’ll become a King.” Calmness and overwhelming peace said with a matter-of-fact from the Scoundrel’s following words, after the storm-breeze howled.

Sol, overtaken by envy, frustratingly growled, “...Y-You can’t just decide that!” Where did this abundance of confidence come from? Teeth grinding and grating together blood rushing into his temple. His concentration was caught lacking and those winds nearly took him off balance, but Miqo'te remained perfectly still…

Energy shifted in an instantaneous, an explosiveness out-cried from Captain with a thunderous shout of his declaration. A Challenge against ALL of Destiny, Fate, anything in-between was committed, throughout the rumbling tides and passed air. “I’ll become King ov’ th’ LIVING!” A dream so far-above, outlandish, impossible echoed. Jolly laughter tantalizingly followed, against Sol’s ire, a splitting image of their own Founder was reminded. To know, Living is to understand the existence of infinity! There was no-one way to live. This particular Pirate knew this and had connection to everything that resided between the spectrum's, life to death, and was born from a Mother’s Light and Father’s Shadow. Be that as it may, he ambitiously stared at the path of transcendence. Unwavering determination highlighting his visage. Upon his crew and varied people across in adventuring, to most-natural or supernatural, soul’s encountered.  All uplifting and inspiring him to heights leaving their imprints, scars, traces upon his singular vessel, these were the stupendous keepsakes, to preserve! Wanting this stead. Survival was instinctual because this was his perceived ultimate treasure. A challenge traversed the realm, shaking with a bewilderment of unyielding certainty. An individual-cloaked frozen-between-time peered over to the skies and gave halt from galloping.

They who stood at the highest summit, a GIANT, woke from disruption. Hinted with Captain’s Presence, awakening. Enraged Sol, lashed out in foul spite, fear, quivering and whining jealousy, “Nonsense. Die, Die, Die!” Pulling his trigger, reloading with rapid-fire, pupils went bloodshot from crazed-fury. The amber-eye, determined Seeker, predicted the trajectory of every fired-shot just by familiarizing Sol’s aim, countering by sliding against bullets with his dual-blades shield, deflecting and parrying him, to having them shred against his flesh in minor grazes, fearlessness, continued forth closing distance. Where Sol was useless in. They battled akin to this when pint-sized deckhands, back then using bb-guns or slingshots versus wooden kendo, this entire scene felt like reversed-time. Captain with a blade-rising upwardly in the air, spun his blade with realignment allowing glaring-rays, letting what all others were seeing. Sunlight had broken throughout the canopies of those undesirable clouds, vanquishing them. His steel-reflecting light, brought a blindness causing the Raen to misfire, his last shot in the chamber, the Seeker predicting this response, taking advantage of his discombobulated state, gave a devastating cross-slash against the Raen’s bare-chest, secondary dual-strike following-through with momentum to strike his gun-slinging wrist, forcing a disarming in one flawless-swoop.

♫Undefeatable♫ - Reference - Last Chapter

#Tales of the Goldbrand #tw: language #-Captain Kuro Solaire #reader discretion advised #Creative Writing #FFXIV #Final Fantasy XIV #Dreamer of Dreams #Sol Akami #Blood-brother #Feuds #Ultimate Treasure #Path of Transcendence #First Specter / Saved. = Spirit. #Pirate #The White Wolf #Two stories left then I might change how I do my remaining story chapters this on path stuff takes a lot out of me #Thinking about switching into an XIVWriting format #Have people submit a random word to me and I write any of the 1000+ stories left #To Become.

[captainkurosolaire]

Gold x Silver

 Waves clashed and sundered before a heaving vessel sailing forth aimlessly, tide’s rippled into swirls against the titanic might of the ship. Uneasiness creaking, relentless winds, a tumultuous storm approached. “Let’s end this, matey.” A scoundrel affirmed his eyes glowered in advance and illuminating gold, activating his heritage Truesight, saw a precognition of brief seconds prior, of what will happen or has. – If he hadn’t then, knowing his advisory, he would’ve died right there seeing his future-self fetch a bullet to the skull. Soon as he worded his peace his blood-brother pulled his trigger remorseless. During their intense conversation Captain brought his boot’s loose pulling out ankle first. WIth a formidable accuracy and force in his traditional tactic he threw it at the pinpoint moment that barrel was going off. It wasted a bullet to the air changing the trajectory and going into the skull of their crest on their flag they shared. He launched his other boot at Sol, who leapt away predicting it knowing Captain’s ploys. But that was only a diversion that deviant rogue, enacted the legendary unbeatable secret technique passed on generation to generation among all fighters against an immovable wall… RUN~! The Seeker launched himself in pace off his own ship. Hearing overhead, “Nice try Cap’n! BUT.. bullet wins against even that!” Revealing a second-pistol that his tail had prepared, Captain was against a foe that was equally cunning as him. A shot, barreled out and clocked Kuro through his shoulder as he descended off the ship.  Strangely, no splash... Confused Sol expected to pick-up the sound. He leaned over the ship’s rail, not a speck of blood, or anything… 

No. ...That accursed pirate leapt off and climbed down, crawling through a window-gap between the cannon’s in the Gunport! Kuro's adrenaline, blood swelled high with all this tension. He surveyed left to right the room he was in, knowing his advisory equally as well… Captain couldn’t hope to win against Sol who had all that ammunition on him, or six extra firearms on his holstered coat. He needed to disarm them all in one fell swoop. His items to use were a crate of fireworks the crew wanted to celebrate Captain’s victory at the Budokai but came-up short, there was gunpowder, rigging tools and contraptions, a training dummy and of course cannons that would’ve taken too long. Shortly after, the Captain laid out his plan if he had any… Sol arrived rushing down below taking shortcuts to arrive quicker, he built the Worldly Finder after-all. What a terrifying enemy to go against! Not only a pirate brethren, but shipwright. Captain against a Shipwright the two knew-each other thoroughly, from sea-vessel to personal. In the pitch-shadows of the gun-port, he saw the silhouette of a figure and that infamous Tricorne Hat stood – unbeknownst his hat was propped on the straw-dummy, and a trail of blood-droplets to give it belief, without any hesitation, on impulse alone, he pulled out his gun, and shot a round that was designated to end this chase, an explosive round, there was no fear, only a maniac set to destroy and erase, the recipe for a great ruler of the sea. …But Solaire knew his enemy lacked patience. When that shot connected, of course it led to a chain-reaction, but not like any; Sol accounted for, nor the ship they drifted on the ocean with. Internally a massive combustion came forth, then sparked the fireworks, to spiral everywhere, catching further pyro to everything, leading into gunpowder that led directly up the staircase. Sol’s eyes with lunacy in surprise but also, praise… The Purveyor of Ingenuity showing himself with honor and dishonorably, once again. Again though; this shipwright believed he knew all the tricks against Captain and threw out a contraption, a device that gave a ward, that protected him from the initial impact. It subsided after a ilm, Sol’s foot that back-stepped, hit a snag, a singular rope that was burning from a sparked firework, led directly to his bottom coat. A ember ablaze drew upward; how ironic, this betrayal started with Sol’s attempt to extinguish Captain in cinder. “SHIT!” Came from the Raen, who screamed throughout the ship’s corridors. Forcing him to throw off his chest ware and his arsenal included, now led into using the – secret unbeatable technique: run!

Once that ammunition was given enough heat and fire, that amount Sol carried, a rocketing explosion carried throughout the gunport, denoting and making a huge crater in the room, the ceiling showed the outdoors. The weather’s rain trying its hardest to sizzle out fire but the storm had yet, approached with a devastating downpour. The ship wobbled and forced both of them into launching and losing balance and smashing against wherever they were, everything shook like they received cannonfire from their enemies. Kuro wasn’t in the clear either. That shot that he received, had frighteningly been revealed, among pirates, you should expect foul play. Sol was the Innovator of Disaster, the bulky Seeker felt a dizziness and coldness, sickness in him before vomiting forth. He had been poisoned with an agent that worked against his tolerance. His body often could handle any biological, plant based since his body was not only conditioned in consuming from his Black Shroud visits… But this was a Garlemald force, with hands-on industrial chemical poison. It worked faster than expected. Now Captain was on a clock, to get to his cabin room. The hallway he was in, held a safe-back door way there, with a secret ladder connecting the left and right wing of his closest Crewmates by a ladder and hatch to his cabin. Amongst his pace forth, a turret deployed in ambush came out, detecting Kuro’s heat signature. Thinking quickly on his feet the feline jumped off his feet and grabbed a rope to a lighting source to evade the first shots. He swung himself with rapid-movement channeling Huton between and yanking the fixture with him, swinging off the appliance with force he destroyed both the chandelier and the small-turret bot. All that movement did was quicken the poison, he could feel his breathing congested, his lungs getting infected in distress, not having long before it eventually traveled to his heart or brain, he was against time. Sol was discombobulated and knocked into a barely conscious state from the whiplash of landing so harshly and close to that devised sonic impact, although showing signs of life, his scales had damage. Meanwhile the Blackguard reached the ladder but now, knowing things were booby trapped ahead, going forth, Captain had to be even more careful. The moment he lifted up, a laser flashed across, if it wasn't for his instinct and tail sticking up, would’ve lost his digit. Instead he recoiled, another droid-node was spinning around, searching for further heat signature. Kuro began panicking, heart racing from cold-sweats, he was seeing double-vision at this point. The pirate leapt off the ladder and with the poison’s noticeable effects in his steps, he was stumbling to reach the galley. From there he brainstormed and looked for a fast solution. With survival in mind, he reached into his own flesh-wound and pried finger first with a pain-jerking reaction his bullet still lodged in him. Taking the Crew’s stove and burning a pan he made a make-shift tool to cauterize his protruding crimson ichor that wanted to spurt out into a blood pool. Unable to dally, Captain turned off the stove’s flame and grabbed a match box of lighter, fuse, and a high alcoholic bottle of brew. He returned to that troublesome ladder and concocted a molotov cocktail throwing the contained incendiary with hatch open and overhead, the laser-turret picked up and shot its heat and caught glass-break, which the flames ignited and melted the metal. Kuro, following right behind in pursuit, put out the fire before it grew impossible to quell. Stumbling his skin, noticeably more pale. A thick-dry vomit of blood came ushering out of his design. Taking further strain, the energy of Kuro was fading, it had taken over his entire lungs now. He saw the collection of potions that were neatly in the display case of antidotes, alchemy purposes in his room, he just needed to reach… So tired… Eye’s struggled to stay open, drowsiness was swelling up.

Captain finally clasped palms over the sliding glass to his stash of salvation, upon his knees with little to any coherence left, a tripwire sprung, and every concoction inside was shattered with a rope and cannonball attached from above his ceiling if he had the muster to stand earlier, it would’ve smashed into him breaking his spine from the impact, but instead with Sol’s own dangerous creativity, it still served to be disastrous for a frantic, panicking Captain. “N-n-no….!” Salvation nearly at hand was broken into shrapnel of shattered glass, pools of various liquids were all over the place. Captain somehow had to identify and recognize the right one at this point, from his smell, texture and memory alone. He deteriorated further. Sprawling forth to his only chance. The palpitations in his heart began their last sequences, slowing noticeably, almost instantaneously. Captain lapped against wood, splintering tongue against a green murky pool with his last ditch-effort. However, a stillness came over. Pupils dilated, devoid of life, raspy breathing wheezed, before unfortunately… silence.

🌊 ♫Doomsday♫ - Reference - Last Chapter 🌊

#Fool's Gold? #High-drama #-Captain Kuro Solaire #Creative Writing #Tales of the Goldbrand #Pirate #FFXIV #FF14 #Final Fantasy XIV #Seeker of the Sun #Sol Akami #Silverbrand #Goldbrand #Traitor Arc

[captainkurosolaire]

Volume 3 - Chasing Kismet

[Sin’s & Tragedies]

Promo Omen: Fogged Dream of a Boy Promo Omen: Captain’s Siren Promo Omen: The ‘Crown’ Tricorne Promo Omen: Sea-Lover Promo Omen: The Pledge Promo Omen: Spiritual Guide: Perish Promo Omen: Face-Paint Promo Omen: Survival & Fury Prelude: Skull Brethren Prelude: Original Crew Prelude: Founding Captain Prelude: The Sol Problem Chapter 1: Who Dunn It? Chapter 2: Fallout Chapter 3: Tailspin Chapter 4: Rumblin’ N’ Tumblin’ Chapter 5: Absence Ushers, Fate Declares! Chapter 6: Lie Mouse, Wrath is Born. Chapter 7: Farewell, Friends. Chapter 8: Traitor Chapter 9: Gold x Silver Chapter 10: Hat Chapter 11: Perish. Chapter 12: Dreamer of Dreams Chapter Finale: Sunbreak Treachery (Commentary below cut.)

(Achieved a great chunk more than I expected early this year to start with. But after a breather for little while, I’ll resume. Aim for that 60 Chapters or beyond @_@. Really put a dent into some of these stories. Have ton’s to write. Lots of characters to just flush out but least throughout this I got a lot set up, and many progressed. Ideally work on screen-sets and going casual mode for my standards though. Also between what may be confusing between Saga/Compendiums/Volumes: Compendium’s strictly will be like a glossary index, with the level’s of interesting stories to read. That’ll always probably be the recommended way to read if interested. Sagas/Volume may approach a more specific type though finding stories, based on Genre. While making the screen-sets I did throughout wildly that seemed like nothing, were pieces of stories that eventually got turn into an arc like this one. >Eventually, I’ll master-list writing into like two-links. Continue polishing my pinned post.< [Gratitude & Love] I legit like have a hundreds to thousand stories remaining. Strangely through feels like hardly anything when I visualize it mentally, feel like this is too short of a story. But reality and with how much energy it really does take and much detail often applying and honing screenshots trying to double-dip, dedication to what I want to go it’s so much, but my resolve and pure grit for passion is wickedly mad. 😎 But I must always shout thanks for all the support, whether invisible lurkers or visible cheers, from new and longtime hearties, who’ve been on this voyage with me. Treasure you from the deepest bottom that beats within. It’s plausible everything feels trivial only cause I have heard and gained lot of inspiration and in-turn your energy with ye all aboard or just merely in my surroundings, your sights are sublime.

#Creative Writing #masterpost #Tales of Goldbrand #Sol #Sol Akami #Saltsong #Archiving #Heave-Ho #Dreams Never Die

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt 18 ~ Black Spots

Continuation from: #11 - Reclaimed Living - ♫Feel It Still♫

As Captain announced in a lively letter of his emergence attended to boisterous former descendants or relations of his old Crew. Within that crowd in his speech, as often in his world gave abundance of the untrustworthy. Enemies endlessly lurked awaiting. For every person connected and he drew with unity, another deathly foe surfaced onto a hydra. His existence was branded with a black spot alongside his original former and eldest people despite being cabin boy or otherwise, it's association and the same sail. Left targeted to a death mark. Although Captain readdressed inked over it with his south-seas tattoo cunningly, it didn't prevent outright save him in any peace. Android eye's hiding in a facade of a replaced, otherwise ordinary, humanoid observed and studied, exhibiting the behaviors of who once was herald dead. Through those programmed lenses far away in a compound a signal was being sent to a brain coexisting in chemically compounding aetheric-tank, sustaining life, but miserably, strictly only hatred of loathing and murdering that Goldbrand insignia from history. Revenge was a confession of pain. Bubble's vapor and fumed as the think-tank irritation translated messages back to its creations, mercilessly cybernetic killing machines. Set to right a wrong, that pirate living.

The dastardly one, didn't know intently or better, with awareness he was targeted out as the tavern's brawl came to many of the patron's, knocked out, or left. He stuck around strictly for an appearance of Shipwright's arrival. Who outside Captain was also a fellow member that dated back, from that era, who was a blemish and taint, possibly, even more-so. "O' matey, ye look parched need a pint?" He asked clueless only to notice a lost soul not getting their fill-in. The stare of the cyborg looked artificially correct, but gave unusual expressions, almost a peculiar stare. internal vocal commands started. Scanning initialized. Archives unpacking, acquiring data from base. Heritage : Seeker of the Sun Age : Approximately twenty-nine summers. ---- Error : Status - Dead ---Reworking Conflict: Rebooting diagnosis from administrator. Bypassed: CheckedIdentity confirmed: Kuro Solaire, secured. Scoundrel felt eeriness, uneasiness and tension. His heightened instinct's were in-question, this particular individual, was augmented. Intuition, kicked in as Captain leapt back with a knack, barely unscathed as the individual almost delivered a single throat slit from a hidden blade in the confines of his armament. It snapped Captain's collar off still. The pub's owner didn't play devil advocate. Towards whatever type of fight was about to break out but barely put together himself, from being drunk, "Take it outside! Ye rancid bastards." Wasn't often Captain wouldn't fuss a complaint but he was in furthermore agreement, plus didn't have the option, as he was on the defense. Back-flipping back then having to grab the elbow of the arm, of his deadliest assailant. Its mouth opens up, revealing a barrel, pointed-blank. He tucked his head far back before rolling barely missing from being met with a flamethrower. Leading outside gave the Seeker a lot less fighting options, as his methods were often in using surround-style based combat. But he wouldn't jeopardize his kindred people into this mess. "Here we go again." He exhaled a gassed sigh. Tossing his Tricorne hat from harm, the cyborg barraged past doors with a super charge. Leg boosters gave it a thermal boost, as it caught Captain by the throat and dragged him into the rugged pavement as heel's fought back to resist. With powerhouse strength and tail's assistant balance fought the turbulence velocity and roared in defiance. That hidden blade came back for a rematch, as the Seeker caught and shoved his connected other freed palm, hooked the two together. The bulky fighter sent them with a belly to belly cratering into a poorly constructed building as this settlement was barely functional in poverty. Clashing through to the rooftop as he rubble as his back hit hard table wood splintered against debris covering but they were distance, but that endurance of a machine was infinitely managed. Barely with any recovery as that blade came back already soaked in crimson root, the table's wooden stands used to blockade one striking plunge as the Seeker rolled back a full flip, with agility. Swiftness exchanging and dive boxing punches but they were being out calculated by the operational program as a staggering lethal punch hit the rib-cage of the Captain followed by a chest kick, the enhanced augments forced body drool and disbelief out of him, having to rebound his bearings. To stay afoot, capturing another punch as the entire arm of the captured prey started rotating and spinning with gyrations. He swatted and elbowed hard into his assailant delivering a fury of combination strikes, of oddities, even using his strong tail, to allow him to free-fall, and have his tail spring him back into a balanced elbow uppercut. Barely giving each-other room to maneuver in, he spat with a dirty flare into the machine's eye, which actually still messed with the obscured vision. Unhanding his bag of tricks he pocketed a handful of sand he had handy always and scattered it over. Though blocks preemptively, gave Captain a room to wedge a few more step's away. A secondary blood oozing

injury reached with a deft utility satchel to handful of spikes. He threw himself in closer quarters, to try provoking the machine to open its mouth again, as it was a two-way street of predictability and calculating. When drawn in he'd lob and hurl his spike in and then force a fist to punch up into the bottom jaw for the machine to deal with the constrict overflow and contraptions interfering into it's barrel. This cost a sacrifice stab again into the hip. If wound's had to be taken, it was always better to lead them into a place that may afford a survivalist, was Captain's bread-tactic. In fearless skull fighting. He narrowly withdrew, the machine's maw blew a chunk of it's own-self then a thermal cooling dissolved the flame's from erupting it entirely. This battle wasn't sweated out enough. Wounds covered held him room to fend off from blood loss but not much. His body motion's now all mattered in conserving. The assailant charged again viciously, this time, Captain used that built up momentum to await right before it connected with him to arm-toss and use that judo style to fling his deathly opponent overhead. Into a bundle of barrel's containing fishes that still some were kicking. "Sleep with th' fishes'" The machine was immune to taunt. And his witty-one liner the machine was about to recuperate before the weaponized arm was squished under the foot of the Seeker who unleashed a bloody stomping and fury spree. Mushing self-blood into the half face, into the skin of the machine was being removed. Animistic was only rampaging in the heated sensation awoke the Captain's primal wrath as he let out guttural fuss. To rip a fending arm for itself cleanly off the socket. Then even as the machine persisted to try fencing back it was constantly met with aggressive onslaught. Smashing the head and its visible arm's off, with its head disconnected, the Seeker heaved into his mind went blurry and hazy into double-vision, removing himself from the scene about to exit the building to hear the machine rattling again. He wasn't in any condition to turn or strike anymore, recognizing limits. The core stabilized the machine even headless, with now a desire to self-implode if it could capture the close-distance. A shot across the world could be heard over head through the hole in the ceiling they made, earlier. As his Crewmate managed to get a clean-silver shot in that only made the machine discombobulate in pure-counter. "Again, Captain? Having fun without me." A Garlean accented conscripted Raen mouthed with a fuss, The Seeker barely winced before collapsing into a self-staining pool of injuries.

#Prompt - Devil's Advocate #tw: violence #FFxivWrite2021 #FFxivWrite #The Riptide Corporation #FFXIV #Creative Writing #-Captain Kuro Solaire #Sol Akagane #Seeker of the Sun #Seeding more arcs #Sol Akami #Sol

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt #21 ~ The Sol Problem

Continuation: Prompt 18 ~ Black Spots - Reference - ♫All Eyes♫

In the confines of the mess halls aboard a voting was being committed whether or not to allow their current Shipwright stay aboard, many had squabbles and complaint's to issue out. In his short occupancy. While other's like the chaotic nature the ex-conscripted Garlean alongside more avidly importantly, Captain fellow matey from every generation of his Crew even originally. They were squabbling in bunches. Rowdiness gave the atmospheric energy Captain found homebody welcoming. Residing with a thud to demand attention on the table, "Alright mates, let's hear why, o' why, ye either want Sol t' stay or nay off." Of course the First Crewmate held his own gripes, "No offense Captain, but you're a handful enough in regard's to your feckless lifestyle. I didn't think incompetency could be ten in magnitude, but the Shipwright you assigned, is a ludicrous fool. His ship repair's were given a solution of a hammer and nails, alongside tape... We could literally get anyone else on the streets to do the same job." In the defense, Captain quipped, "But it b' free. Besides, his schematics and blueprint's fer the ship, alongside manufacturing all yer room's will b' worth it. Got t' get him motivated into his mad genius side. Some ov' us are creature's that only move once inspired." The Quartermaster came next, "Yeah, I don't know about that, him inventing bomb's aboard if it wasn't for me, handling that... Could've surface more reported problems or casualties but he's done better than anyone else in building my sock collection." There was a point there Captain couldn't refute, "Does keep us on our toes though mates. It can't be worse than the serial killer I had aboard last time, at least we got a positioned Therapist now. Also isn't as worse than the battle's with some Tribal Chieftain and Voidsent on our own base's lawn, every morning." This didn't help the case when comparing his array of former personalities. The Sniper lifted her arm up with an actual defense, "I think he's unique. Although, is pretty high of himself. I mean what's with that painting on his door." She gave mention to an artistic painting of man into creation, but was specifically him as both reaching out two-revolver's and shooting himself with unmatched ego. Like shattering a mirror's reflection.

A sea-wolf maiden gave her own risen announcement with a perspective of control and nothing ever really personal. "If I might inquiry, why Captain did you choose him aboard?" The Scoundrel showered a cheeky expression back. "I ain't n' disagreement with any of ye. His background alongside chaotic nature, alongside greed, is all a random roll roulette ov' fates. Though look at what has been achieved. Has gotten ye to unify and think. You see literally no squabble's cause you're pondering him. We're wild and diversified, but under this sail, is different from anywhere else. This is more than what the land dwells under. This isn't about something naive like backgrounds, or where we came or look or some insignia instantly mean's they're poor taste. We look around in this room and ye all r' outcasts beyond conceptions. Role's are assigned, the ship sink's simply as if one of us under-performs, I know, n' dire straits, he's dependable. Sometimes we need festiveness among each-other and remind us fun t' enjoy th' breeze or sceneries', some of ye represent humanity, some of ye are bred monstrous. We're paddling and hoisting together. We're wind's of this flag-vessel. Can't make our destination otherwise." Where a lot of opinion's were under the opposition of nay. The Crew distinctively reflected further and placed themselves under empathy. Actual form of thoughts. Some were unwavering in changing others had some resistance but they had no qualms to allow to be final. They'd respect the vote whatever it came too. Captain was only to hear and his vote didn't register since he allowed them to choose as they added to a ballet box. As began tallying them up into piles, listing them off. "Ten t' Two, he stays, fortune b' his fer now." Captain was conditioned in giving training exercise's and allowing mate's to vocalize. Already decisively structuring himself better than his past. Sol and Captain even bickered between as brethren of skulls. The crest and pact with the Founding Captain had ingrained them into a loyalty that had proved itself. Envy was poisonous, Captain had little depth of understanding just how much, Sol fostered in storage for his own leader. The veteran Seeker saw an opportunity in this to devise another means of exercising them in the future. Alongside this gave motivation to issue squad-missions into shifting seasons of four paired to get them accustomed. Door’s broke open from their hinges from barely conditioned bolts as a Silver-Disaster, Sol, the unwiser to the whole vote, came in, “I’m so talented! Look everyone I invented, a second me!” He recently took the dysfunctional cybernetic assassin and disassembled it into his own creativeness. The entire Crew grumbled with unity, “Can we get a re-vote?”

#Prompt - Feckless #FFxivWrite2021 #FFxivWrite #FFxiv #Shipwright #Sol Akagane #PC/Roomie character #Establishing Seeds #Gonna be lot of infighting and chaos #Creative Writing #Final Fantasy XIV #Tales of the Goldbrand #-Captain Kuro Solaire #Self V Self #Sol Akami #Sol #sol akami

[captainkurosolaire]

“Wasn’t me.”       ............ <This time.>

#Sol Akagane #Shipwright #FFXIV #Final Fantasy XIV #We are Tales #Crew #PC - Player #Conscripted Garlean #Silverbrand #OG #Sol #Sol Akami

[captainkurosolaire]

Devil’s Bane

 Truthfully the reasoning behind his madness for a Noble to go against his word was uncomplicated, he was in dealings with a pirate for one, two he held a previous background as a said pirate in playing the part that felt now a distant memory. Shiro was attempting to achieve something ever inquisitively, to propelling motivation; When a hand out is given does one thrive or grow any longer? No. - Parents to Mentors. Those we look up too, we search to them for answers and believe them in their field to hold it without an ilm of faltering he did not wish to create a beast made of complacency but one that was starved. A creature that would train itself to be able to devour giants. Belief in strictly a crew or painting a pictured philosophy that luck and friendship would carry against overwhelming threats inside their own demonic dimension in order this is the ethical ideology needed for preservation. With rejection the Keeper ensured that Kuro would be more desperate to pull in training and collect teachings in the short-span, in secretively he already had intention to agree to the terms but it would do no solace to tell his rival that. He preferred to let him suffer in time restraint. Unbelievably stunned still dripping sweat down his chiseled exterior and breathing from lungs of depleted stamina. “Are ye joking me matey? Honor? What happened to integrity? What sort of House is this rat shack? Thought yer stick was to follow by tailored Orders? You’ve been cooped up in here ever since the War, what could be more pressing than protecting your own? Ye think really that I am the only one affected, news flash, yer Royal Knight Sha is on the same shite-list. Which in-turn means it effects th’ people ye care about! Get over this pride, of yours!” Absolutely building up and fuming with seeping misunderstanding the action that was being played craftily. The regal man stepped in with an icy chill about him swarming and delving a hidden coat of protection. His tone reflected the same, “Listen... I believe this’‘ll be hard to grasp but you aren’t even on the same level as Sir.Sha either, don’t even get me laughing if you believe we’re equal. I merely allowed you to think you won and the only ones that even damaged me was your - woman which proved to match me in my GAME. Then the Star you abandoned, which I guided. Your whole entire career has been relying on your crew, or that thing that can’t even be controlled. You’re a liability if anything, how many times have you needed healed and saved? Pathetic... I would never honor even in amusement for a pirate. If I wished to engage you as it stands, you wouldn’t even make it to the Budokai for a rematch with me. If the threat looms over to me, I’ll defeat it. Through using your failures for me to prevail now out of my SIGHT.” His white-gloved hand pulled up before creating a snowy-print of aetherial energies carved a glyph beneath the feet of Kuro that would activate and eject him solely from his presence being in his Estate to an alleyway filled of trash in the Brume of Ishgard. Clashing down into the pile of putrid stack of garbage that the Noble saw those he had banished. The verbal battle had taken a toll and thought he wanted to lash out or get pay back to disapprove the thing was, there wasn’t anything to deny. He recounted since the very beginning of his climb, every, single time. He had been given sacrifice for his cause and brought misery and chaos to all those from threats that none held a chance. The Relics that were uncovered with every sweat seeping from heated flesh, graves made and dug, blood spewed for the Captain had become obsolete, he didn’t even own the treasure anymore cause he couldn’t handle them safely. Realization tore apart him in thousands of blades of truth piercing into his soul and mentally as he remained back pressed against the collection of foulness his confidence like a flame begun to extinguish. Hung in the silhouette of the shadows as a single street-lamp peered over his limp boot hanging off the trash-disposal. His runic tattoo etched onto his skin didn’t give him an answer. For a second his eye closed. As his purpose was meant again while he lived freely. Why, he moved. How, he stood. Those who impacted and sailed him to victory. Inside himself was the cruelest prison of them all planes forged of torment where there was no forgiveness, only screaming to sin. His escape was this one he ventured in, here he could surpass and overcome and be without a chain but inside his own inner-design, he was captive beyond comprehension. Simulated by agony, grief, pain, regret, emotions ran rampant.

He grew molten internally from sudden conviction because he knew that his brethren currently was struggling the same from possession and used as a backseat puppet. This was his mess to clean up, this was his crew and business to deal with. Like the Lord predicted he was famished and deprived on his own merit not the beast that slumbered. But his own, survival, preservation for everything started to weigh. Glinted-amber hues set on a path armed for labored knowledge to grow, train, reform himself into a weapon to forge himself the ability to achieve irrevocable survival. He had a little over six-moons or less to prepare and absorb enough leanings to become, bane of a devil.

----------------------- Black Devil Saga ----------------------- Previous ----------------------- Prologue - Steal the Moon, Pirate Chapter 1 - Royal Roast Chapter 2  - Duel! Unrequited Freedom vs The Loyalist’s Pride

#End for currently #Now when Crystal opens up I'll try nailing down a lot of ingame RP's #Kuro's power-level and survival for the plot will rely on growth interactions with unique characters from the commune #cks #Captain Kuro Solaire #Tales of the Goldbrand #Black Devil Saga #Pirate #Sol Akami #Gark #Demons #Devils #Voidsent #Crew #Black Lion #Man of the Five Seas #Firstly got to get health and life under control #Kahzoo #Darkness #To Clouds #creative writing #Lord Shiro Elune

[captainkurosolaire]

I Reject, Demise.

                                           Tears bornt of rue,                               T’is a shame for how must I stew,                           For the tale, I wish to project is grim,                                  He, who bears skull to crest,                       Forever is plagued in curse; carried to chest,                                    Fiends of nocturnal limbo,                                      Eclipses all of the curse,                                  Tricksters that flutter tongues                                   Graved fraught despondency                                  Armed brother procured by void,                           Draws near, convert from matching flesh                                   Ambitionist of rampant seas,                                          Wielder of the curse,                                         Container of destiny,                                               Usurper of fate,                                        All centuries may repute                                            Sickle’s last mercy.                                                                                                            -SS

#CKS #Captain Kuro Solaire #Sol Akami #Tales of the Goldbrand #Vessel of Death #Void Possessed #End #Poem #Sheik Sphere #Original C #ffxiv #ffxiv screenshots #Man of the Five Seas

[captainkurosolaire]

It was me all along

                                                                                                ~ Sol Akami

#Sol Akami #Final Fantasy XIV #ffxiv screenshots #Goldbrand #Silverbrand #The Shipwright #Tales of the Goldbrand #OG Crew #Just get an android forehead #Sol Akagane #Crew #We are Tales #Sol Akogas