[color=lightgray][table][row][/row][row][cell][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/cff0pye.png[/img][/center]
[color=8a0303][b]Time:[/b][/color] Morning
[color=8a0303][b]Location:[/b][/color] Desert Port
[color=8a0303][b]Mention(s):[/b][/color]
[color=8a0303][b]Interaction(s):[/b][/color] Tanithil [@Lava Alckon], Amisra [@Tae], Zion [@Helo], Jun [@JJ Doe]
[hider=Equipment] Two [url=https://i.imgur.com/2JKnP1O.png]short swords[/url], two (concealed) [url=https://i.imgur.com/25iypLP.jpg]daggers[/url], two [url=https://i.imgur.com/7wXI3ik.jpg]pistols[/url], 465 amas.[/hider]
[/cell][/row][/table][indent]There was that moment.

The enemy ship was burning, the enemy was finally going down. Ismael was [i]incandescently glorious[/i] in the middle of it. They were all tired, exhaustion seeping into the very marrow of their bones. They were all half-drunk from it, the whole ordeal of the drawn-out battle. Their victory was now viscerally within reach. They could taste it; their imminent triumph sent a sharp [i]zing[/i] through the tongue sending a shiver right down to the toes. Yet, they’d prevailed, beating an unlikely enemy, making it out [i]alive![/i]

It was at that moment.

Between one heart beat and the next, within the blink of an eye, a split-second change brought it all crashing down. 

[i]Down. Down. Down.[/i]

Ismael was cut down.

They could only watch. Some saw it happening before it did. Some didn’t understand [i]what the fuck[/i] was going on when they were already sailing away.

The goddamn hero, the phoenix who never would be again, [i]the man[/i] burnt it all to crisp, going out with a crazed grin on his lips. It’d be his way or no way, even if it was death.

But it was death.

Final. 

Irreversible. 

A done [i]fucking[/i] deal.

What was, was. What was lost was gone. It’d never be there again.

Ismael was [i]gone.[/i]

The worst thing?

It didn’t matter that what he did was downright legendary. No one else would hear his story. No one else would care about it. To anyone else, it’d just be an unfortunate loss, a ‘prized’ human being lost to some ‘no-name, backwater pirates’. What Ismael did didn’t affect the fight against the Dark Elves, so [i]no one else[/i] would think it relevant.

Well. There was still them.

Arlen didn’t think he [i]could[/i] forget. Days and nights after the fight, he was tormented by that one final scene. That indescribably heart-wrenching feeling of being as high up as the heavens, then incomprehensibly, the world tilted side-ways, and they found they were – not even in something recognizable as hell; instead, they were sent careening out into the fucking unknown of who-the-fuck-knows-where.

Arlen was glad everyone else was just as out of it as he was. They all had the time to lick their wounds in their own way. No one bothered him, he bothered no one. No one even had time to ‘understand’ or whatever else, they just dealt with it each on their own.

Then came the [i]news[/i] from out-of-fucking-nowhere.

The world turned, was sucked into itself, and spat back out – similar, but recognizably not the same.

They’d be getting a new human charge.

Was this supposed to be a goddamned [i]replacement?[/i] Ismael couldn’t be replaced.

It rankled, but Arlen hated that it also gave some sort of [i]hope[/i] – because that meant he was [i]fine[/i] with it, as long as there was a juiced-up magic powerhouse to give it meaning.

It was too fucking confusing to think about, as he had such violently conflicting feelings about it all. So, he didn’t. They’d get to meet them right away, so this wasn’t the time to be a sour-puss about it.

Instead, he focused on the promise of [i]treasure hunting[/i] with a single-minded zeal.

When the two new folks showed up on the pier, Arlen very intentionally didn’t think about it as the crew getting another human. Cause it was like thinking of a person as just a shiny new trinket being there instead of the one they’d lost-

Yeah. No.

It was just two folks who’d join them on a treasure hunt. One of them happened to be human, sure. But that was all.

[color=af002a]“Hey, guys!”[/color] Smiling felt [i]weird[/i] – he wasn’t sure it looked right, but he ignored that. He waved at the new arrivals from where he was leaning against the gunwale. Then, he swung over, clung over the edge for a heart-racing moment, [i]kicked off[/i] against the side of the ship, and lunged to land onto the docks. That small, nonsensical athletic stunt was enough to make his grin a bit more genuine, a small spark of life emerging from depths unknown.

He stood up from his crouch, dusting himself off. [color=af002a]“There’s breakfast, alright; you’re just in time,”[/color] he turned to the demihuman. The lion demi at least [i]spoke[/i]. The human looked like he didn’t even [i]want[/i] to be there. Arlen smothered a frown. [color=af002a][i]It’s not his fault.[/i][/color]

To Zion, he said, [color=af002a]“We usually eat out and about whenever we dock. Besides,”[/color] the enthusiasm was starting to take hold, [color=af002a]“no way to go on [i]an adventure[/i] on an empty stomach.”[/color] The sly smirk alluded to and teased at greatness ahead. There [i]would be[/i], there [i]had to be[/i]. [color=af002a]"Oh, and it's Arlen, by the way."[/color]

[hider=Tldr]Arlen is shocked at Ismael's death, and isn't a fan of the idea of a replacement human. He represses his grief and confusion and conflict, and faces the promise of treasure hunting head on with relentless cheer.[/hider][/indent][/color]