#memethings.

☯ :Do they believe for every darkness there is a lightness? If not, why?

     yes and no. he was born and raised in the darkness, away from all that is considered "good", and lightness wasn’t in his books, nor anyone else’s within the assassins guild. he’s seen, and become, the epitome of darkness & it wasn’t until Sinbad showed up that Ja’far had met someone who can carry light to counter its opposite - Sinbad creates a balance, according to Ja’far, but still he believes that perhaps his own darkness is too much. not only his, but the world’s also. there are strong lights, just like Sinbad’s, that can amount to the same as a grouped darkness, yet it’s near impossible to destroy darkness completely. it’s not "for every darkness there is a lightness", it’s "for every light, there is darkness—there is shadow". in this case, he is willing to continue being a shadow for Sinbad to shine bright.

❤ :Describe a physical action that shows complete trust.

     physical contact/interaction isn’t his favorite method of socializing/getting involved with others - anyone, for that matter - yet! to willingly show the scars that, not only have marred his body eternally on the outside, but also work as reminders & go deep, serving as inner scars as well, is a sign of utter trust. going further into that, a complete show of trust would be allowing the other person to touch his scars, specifically those in places where no one but himself would ever see. (admire them, tbh)

εжз What about nature do they find calming? What about nature do they find disagreeable?

      the late nights, where everything is basically pitch black with the exception of the stars above (if any), coupled with the silence and slight breeze—that is what he finds calming! it allows his unnaturally enhanced senses to rest while enjoying himself, even if momentarily; and no sun aggressively beating down on him, that’s a plus! as for the second one, and following with that last point, the sun and heat are the main enemies of Ja’far ngl; it gets worse if there’s sand (and let’s not talk about sand storms in desert regions). all in all, he generally doesn’t mind storms, nor anything else. he’s used to adapting & enduring anything, including nature.

❣ Describe a way that will earn affection (whether platonic or romantic) from them.

      oh sheesh. he isn’t one to portray affection, and in all honesty? Ja’far doesn’t feel much, not near close to what most would consider the “norm”. therefore, earning affection is barely achievable for and from someone like him. however, he’d treat those who are loyal - and demonstrate it - and have positive intentions, much better (nicer) than anyone else. he’d even spoil them a little (for example, feed them lots & make sure they’re safe and sound). as long as you are loyal, responsible and a hardworker (no slackers allowed), then he’d definitely play a bit of favoritism toward you. just prove that you will never betray nor bore him.

♡ :Is there a certain scent that brings about nostalgia? If so, describe a memory this scent brings back.

      oho, it’s not nostalgia but it’s something. &that’s easy. copper. blood. see, although he has managed to block out all of the memories from a past he’d rather erase from his existence, it’s not something that can be removed from the core that forms who he is. he’s killed countless of people, some which have been far more gruesome than supposed to, his mind reminisces the time when small hands had been coated in his parents’ blood - how he murdered his own kin simply because he had been told to, just to live. it’s a memory that continuously haunts him, albeit having been saved by Sinbad and living a “good and honest” life.

۞:Are there any inner demons they can never seem to get rid of? What are they?

     & undeniably so, the Kou Empire has become powerful and fearful among the neighboring countries thus it’s often that attempts at keeping the peace between them and the Kingdom of Sindria are made; countless of times, a certain magi himself has mocked and tried to bring down the general’s will, his persistence. However, nothing said or done – unless that is death itself – will halt the plans of securing the country that his king has worked hard to protect.

                         not even hostility emanating from the royal children.

     Hands previously intertwined under the fabric of sleeves release their hold and arms cascade to settle at each respective side of frame upon acknowledging the presence of a particular young princess; a brow arches in question at the words falling from the girl’s lips –                                            [ "You shouldn’t have done that" ]now, what could she possibly mean with that?

     “Pardon? Ren Kougyoku… did I do something to upset you?” handling any situation with care is the most important course of action, specifically when people of power and high status are involved—he can tell, quite easily, that Ren Kougyoku is not one to address lightly. “With all due respect, princess, I have come here in the name of Sindria—all we want is to remain on good terms with you.” Although that is a genuine desire, also one that could prove to be positive for both countries, the animosity this Empire gives off hasn’t helped in the results of the diplomatic interactions. And this girl—she is no different; quite importantly, Kougyoku is undoubtedly dangerous. An asset Sinbad would adore to get his claws hands on without question.

                          but no sense of giving up exists.

     & few things can accelerate the pace in which Ja’far’s heart beats, few things can provoke any type of shock, and even fewer things can amuse the sindrian general. That isn’t to say that he is an unfeeling and unmoving stone, even if seriousness clings to every pore of him – at least the outer portion of the shell called body. Surprisingly, one of those rarities manifests itself before dark orbs in the form of an individual struggling to get back on their feet to no avail; their frame on the ground where crimson liquid pools around of. The impromptu sound falling from parted lips contains a tint of mockery, a soft dry chuckle that refuses to be kept caged.

                                        What are the odds?

     Not once, albeit having thought and wished for it, had mind imagined that such sight would become a reality – especially when not by the blades sticking ever so loyally to frame. That living (sadly) entity, with its shadow tones and attached animosity, adorned in red hues and scrapes and scratches is, for once, an appealing sight.

     “I thought someone was in danger—I guess I was wrong.” Despite the hatred coating words and reflecting, too, in onyx orbs, curiosity surfaces through the actions of body; steps are taken forth until feet halt inches apart from a particular oracle. And it truly is difficult to prohibit himself from scoffing down at the magic user. How has this oh, powerful magi achieved such pitiful state? Whether Judal’s predicament is the result of training (doubtful), betrayal (possibility), a recklessly made decision (even more of a possibility), or a combination of all (the most probable option), it matters to Ja’far as much as paperwork matters to the High King of the Seven Seas. That aside, a foot lifts to prod the side of Judal’s wounded frame, applying pressure into the blood oozing flesh as disgust crawls onto pallid features. “Lucky for you, this is Kou territory.” Further luckier that, no matter the circumstances or personal desires, nothing capable of jeopardizing Sindria’s peace, in any fashion, shall be employed—not even landing a final, life stealing blow to this bastard.

                     How frustrating—to have your enemy so close, in a vulnerable state,           and to be unable to end their damned existence;                                [ it definitely is aggravating. ]

     It’s after a ruthless swing of foot against ribcage that the vizier implements retreating steps, merely glancing back over a shoulder to spit out a genuinely wanted outcome; with lips curled into an almost oddly amused smirk. “Judal… you deserve much worse.” I'm glad this happened to you; I hope you rot.

[ 73. ]

     more than once did advice from the general of Sindria fall from his lips in order to keep the first imperial princess of the Kou Empire out of particular situations that she would come to regret in the future. Of course, whether Hakuei follows those suggestions or somewhat genuine advices or not, that certainly is no problem of the vizier. At least, it shouldn’t have been a problem – but once a person is involved in the same situation as a second being, any expectations or ideas that might have existed could become null.

     It’s another rebellion within territory of the Kou Empire (forcefully claimed by them, really) that seems to have pushed the royal general and this time… she is not alone. The companies of those who form part of her vessel, her very own army of household vessel users, have successfully taken control of the disastrous, threatening advances that the villages’ people had been attempting. At what cost? At the cost of dozens and dozens of lives, both from completely guilty creatures while also from innocents casualties.

     Outsiders have nothing to do with any internal affairs that a foreign country might be addressing, though that does not mean that Ja’far wasn't a spectator; all that has been done and said registered easily within the confines of the parliamentary officer’s mind, coaxing the freckled man into approaching the exhausted princess. A general whose regret is almost palpable.

     & the term of unwavering loyalty is, at times, overlooked and misinterpreted – loyalty does not mean, in any form or case, to blindly follow another in a slavery manner (although it is possible in certain circumstances). No; loyalty means to serve a specific entity or cause with endless compromise and unbreakable trust, even while that which receives the loyalty utilizes methods that are morally questionable and greatly doubted at times. This former murderer – whose entire loyalty lies within a devious, kind king – has perhaps the strongest desire to serve under his mantel, under the safety that Sinbad’s wings provide – not only to him, but the entire Sindria which is their home.

     Firm and steady does the man stand with the pretense of offering a warm welcome to the visitors from Reim – it would have been as such in all honesty, if it wasn’t for the fact that a threatening aura surrounds the captain of the fanalis corps. See, Ja’far is overly familiar with this, the intent to harm or even attempt to do such, and nothing and no one will ever be able to accomplish that task while the general stands alive and utterly capable of preventing that from occurring.

     Underneath the fabric of sleeves hands have been tangled, their fingers laced with one other, all until now; sin-coated metal slides into the palms of each corresponding hand that have phalanges hold the items in a possessive yet loose grip – frame shifts slightly to the left and half a step is taken back by the foot on the same side. Any smile – genuine or not – has been erased from the freckled features the man sports; instead, a void of emotions remains plastered upon pallid complexion.

"You’re in my way."

     There’s a minor tilt of cranium structure that has silver locks cascade to the side along with the movement and observant, darkened orbs focus on the halfbreed of a fanalis.

     & more than a simple handful of invitations had been sent in the vizier’s way, from different parties alike. Years ago, almost forgotten in the mixture of ‘happy’ memories, already had darkness been tasted, savored, e n j o y e d, by the one who so loyally stood beside the King of Sindria. As of more recent events, a particular magi’s very own presence had swayed and altered the tranquility that had been built within and around the former assassin – funny, how even a single word can cause so much disaster.

     Ever loyal to Sindria, ever blissfully… R O T T E N .

     For someone who has been aware of exactly how dirty hands are, the amount of lives those palms have claimed and precisely how much body and obscure corners of his soul missed – ACHED – to be one with the thrill that power and darkness altogether brought… for someone like that, corruption was not difficult. In fact, one could dare say that Ja’far needed but a little push!

     And that brings things to the present – the parliamentary officer of oh, prosperous Sindria, whose robes are gorgeously adorned with stains of crimson hues splattered in unequal patterns. Why, hands seem to have overdone the deed of ridding beloved Sindria of traitors; little pawns that run away from an interrogating, shady mind you, general only deserve the fate that has been forced upon them, no? Alas, perhaps a quick death would have been better than toying around with them until boredom settled in and limbs were scattered around the near perimeter.

     With an exaggerated sigh does Ja’far pat at the dirtied clothes that cover his entirety of frame and cranium tilts upwards a little when an outer presence is acknowledged; it feels right, natural, wonderfully amazing, and it’s impossible to contain a chuckle, albeit soft, that manages to escape the freckled man’s lips. Because, of course, the surprisingly warm breath that contacts skin behind ear along the deep laughter that resonates within hearing canal is more than enough to cause the sindrian to SHUDDER.

                     & ; i'm a little b a d,

     But, is that all? No. The most exhilarating turn of events is when a whispered, wanton “Long live my k i n g” seems to dance past the fallen magi’s lips – he sounds amused, proud even, at the sight of the recent addition to his king candidates.

     Watching – observing – Ja’far F A L L had been an exquisite scene, according to Judal, when the oracle told the little story to his very own K I N G.

     Whether Judal’s words were mocking or not… that was beyond the point. Right now, all that seems appeasing to the corrupted soul of the former /murderer/ is receiving praise and for body to welcome the electrifying touches that his favorite creature in the world could deliver. Now, don’t get him wrong – Sinbad is still someone Ja’far considers amazing, he IS powerful and charismatic, but the light in which Judal is viewed is different, completely, or should it be classified as ‘the darkness in which he’s viewed as’?

               but i fuckin' love i t !

     Corner of lips lift a tad into a pleased grin and head moves to tilt to the side just slightly a few seconds prior to a foreign yet quite familiar hand roughly seizing platinum strands of hair. As if on cue, the immediate reaction is to g r o a n and take a step closer to the magi that stands before him. “Right—yours,” a laugh exits Ja’far’s lips with rather ease, and another small inclination forward has face inches away from the opposing one,