#Goldbrand's Mightiest

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt #17 ~ Reality Check

Celebration didn't always come after intense battles or war. It's often rarely documented the effect transpiring those who prevailed and survived the aftermath. When the Crew arrived home upon the vessel of the Worldly Finder, few were disheartened, some hid it better than others, while there were obvious distraught. Effects that lingered, nagging urges, 'what if I were better', or there was a 'solution; I could've done to prevent this outcome.' Equally serving still another part of that battle and war not yet, given the entire destruct. Wasn't wrong or unnatural to mourn, but to dwell could offer something dangerous that would stagnate and fester, throwing mind, spirit, soul into a limbo, this was especially something when a leader's walk showed limp. As the Captain walked up planks sulked, broad shoulders loosened and his hat not only stayed shaded, this wasn't entirely unseen. Boisterous laughter of a Hellsguard came to a halt in the corner of the open deck. "I'm not agreeing to strip triad with you Me-me, ever." The Lalafell added to her accounting bags a huge surmountable amount of mountains of gil, "Your loss bro." Departing cheeky, placing her earnings into a sizable wagon and rolling off into the vault. The senior second eldest aboard grimaced, "What the Seven Hell's is that?" He said pointing at the Captain's posture. Zieton, barely paying attention reading books of poetry aboard, upon this wild-vessel remained the most ancient.

"He's conflicted. Perceived his shortcomings and all the losses, alongside his Noble rival under his fault. His former crew followed behind more death's and disconnections. Believes in-order to be an effective leader, he must guarantee the lives of all under his sail." The pirate leader wasn't required to have all the answers or to be mightiest unrealistic, put together being or such a thing as perfection. Even the most formidable held survivor's guilt. Compassion was touted crucially as illness. This was a psyche out, bred in others. The diversity of the Crew he held manifested were examples because of how arranged his heart was and could steer... Although he couldn't see it, others did, painstakingly. Knightly the massive Hellsguard furrowed his red eyebrows, with a furious Father-like figure glower. "Ears, give me those rocks. I'm taking our Capt, here... On a little intervention." Wildwood with peaking jades registered the intent in imparted wisdom more-so like a Grandfather above in endlessly knowledge, before throwing some remote aether fragmented shards in a pouch over with a waved conjuration. To make a gentle giant like Gark seriously violently upset was a deadly feat. Who not even during the battle with a devil expressively showed. Though the Captain was spitting on him disgracefully. "Ahoy, Captain." He strolled up as the Seeker tried to sly a deceitful visage was instead found being manhandled and choked before they both warped elsewhere forcefully and formidably. Arriving on the other-side of a wasteland he threw and tossed his own leader into a flung tree with almighty force to crash it down. Wheezing and disbelieving breath his eyes strained red stress. The pain his body underwent and felt was actually in gratitude for it and felt he needed and deserved it. Staggering up before taunting, "Is that all ye got?" Aware it already took control and reservation for Gark not to single-handedly obliterate him. "You little pest." He grabbed the back skull in a handful vice grip and face plummeted him down with a kneel, his entire face burying into the soils like a dumb-ass plant. Lifting him up, "You're really going to lose your will to fight? Like this? You provoked me when your arm's were broken, and challenged me and made me LEAVE my quiet life behind." He kneed the Seeker making him spat out blood and tossing him again more like rag-doll and menacingly start walking back. "My blimey half-brother couldn't mouth-close about his Crew. Especially the runt aboard. Now we're the last survivors of him, and you who's beaten and ready to die, after-all other things, this is how... A trivial thing called, Despair? ...Wins? Your fellow man died with his nobility intact, there is no-shame. It's dishonorable! To feel ashamed of how he went. In all that coldness, flame's were burned, even I felt." Lecturing with a temper; his jawbones flexing. His presence felt overwhelmingly wrathful.

Grunting in the rubble of pain this method was actually how a numbskull bastardized orphan like him was forced to be educated. He felt the raw heat of pain, in the Red Baron, despite the murderous atmosphere sizzling. Hacking up his own internal anguish in spew. Barely having enough recovery time or to waddle away instinctively. His feline tail tugged back before Roe used it to toss him back the other direction. The loud heavy thudding step's were like nightmare a his senses screamed, he was going to die. Wanting him to defend while his willpower still was resisting. He was grabbed and lifted by the root of his skull. Gark's eyes showed darkened resolve. In lasting words, a terrifying hand close to his heart began formulating a magma fire, incredibly close and exposed to the flesh that made him scream in agony as his skin was being melted. This was his lowest temperature even. "Captain, I will turn you into a carpet pelt. If you ever do this again before-me. Aboard our Crew, the people you've band, they've many dreams and ambitions or desires, have you ever pondered my own? Beyond, the whole mercenary dealings of my hobbies collection? I sought to join more than socks..." The Seeker's panting and overall smoldering suffering made him stare amber into amber. Revelation came, "My dream is to see yours. And if you... threaten that..." His hue's viciously became draconian for a hint, as dragon-speak, came in a message that even Captain could register by delivery. <I'll e[h]k mor[n] you> Or, <I'll kill you.> The Seeker looked in disbelief before being headbutted unconscious. Gark exhaled smog of pity before discarding and loosening the leader in a wake-up call. He picked him over shoulder and took him back aboard as if they were only gone for a few minutes. Then allowed the wild-wood Elezen who begrudgingly was cleaning crew for healing catastrophic injuries. Captain required to comprehend it was decisively up to one's responsibilities to see-through storms, that's why there were Crew's and roles, and others in function. Each time, he now fell short of the marker, or doubt came creeping in, they'd be vanquished by those under the sail. This became a catalyst that got Captain to accept death's and his shortcomings while also being able to relate and identify it for others.