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Takashi needed a drink. The salt left over from evaporated seawater clung to his eyelashes and stubble, the salt still stinging his eyes and the myriad cuts across his body. Two days without food and water. Two days without a shave. Two days without a crew. He sighed, watching the water fountain up into the life raft from the whole where a stray bullet had pierced it. For two long days and nights Takashi had not slept as he fought to keep the boat afloat, unable to steer or control it. Now finally as the little boat approached the island, he stopped bothering, allowing it's wounds from battle and the vicious sea to finally claim thje life raft. By the time the boat actually went under, Takashi found himself in relatively shallow, clear water. Swimming towards the harbour on the island, he saw a busy and throning crowd moving through the narrow streets, with the sounds or enterprising merchants filling the air.
Reaching the harbour, Takashi pulled himself out of the waterand attempted to wring out his clothes, which were heavy and stinking of salt. As he did this, he found himself surveying the crowds, his gaze sweeping through them like a laser, searching for anything interesting. It seemed there was- as Takashi's eyes had passed over the gate into the harbour, his eyes had locked with a man, much like the others in the street. Takashi knew better. There was something about the eyes of an ex-marine, something about the inevitable period of suffering after leaving that was forever present in the eyes. Even in a crowded place like this, one ex-marine could tell there was another simply at a glance. Their eyes locked, each man silently communicated that they knew what the other was. The silent exchange was brief, yet intense, the crowd sweeping away the other man like a leaf in the wind.
Takashi sighed and he strained the last drops of water out of his old officer's jacket.
'Maybe Lieutenant wasn't so bad.'
Rhynn looked over his shoulder and shook his head. He returned to reading his dime novel about a medivial duo of a sexy swordswoman and a saucy sorceress and their erotic exploitations. Puffing on a cigarette as he walked, he disregarded the entire world, daydreaming about skimply clad women.
He arrived at the house in the upper class district, getting more than one sour look, as he was far from fitting in with the posh people, in either attire or attitude. As he came to the door, he pulled a rope mounted on the door-frame. A hollow bell was heard, and in a few seconds, a rather well-groomed and oily man came to the door. "Ah, Mr Chelimber! Wonderful timing! I trust the upgrade of my dueling pistol is complete?" the aristocrat asked with a nasal undertone.
Rhynn frowned and presented a single-shot pistol. "I exchanged the hammer to increase accuracy. The barrel is tightened, with a thinner crosshair. The grip is carved to sit in the hand, and the trigger has been filed to allow easier discharge." Rhynn flicked the gun around and pointed it at one of the pink pewter flamingos decorating the garden. "And by using my own compound gunpowder, which is more volatile due to the ratio of sulphur and sand..." he pulled the trigger, making the head of the pewter flamingo explode. "The power is increased by sixty percent."
The aristocrat stared at his ruined garden decoration with mixed emotions. The high society would talk about the gunfire at his estate for the coming two weeks. Rhynn added "Oh, and since I really don't like the bastard you're going up against, I added a little surprise..." the flamingo burst into flames as he spoke. "I compressed a few grams of thermite inside the bullet, which takes effect inside his rotten guts and burn him up."
Rhynn gave a smirk "He will suffer for foreclosing the loan on my ship. Nobody steals my ship, be it pirate or official." The aristocrat dismissed the thought of having Rhynn replace the garden-flamingo and quickly handed him his pay. Rhynn counted the money and smiled "Pleasure doing business with you..." he said and left.
"Have a nice swim?" a voice came from behind the drenched man. A hint of laughter followed, making it obviously sarcastic. Takashi turned swiftly to the source, not in the mood for jokes. There, on the edge of a dock that was much higher than the beach (must've been low tide), sat a young man with unique, jet black hair that hid the right side of his face. Through his locks, however, Takashi could see an eyepatch and coy smirk. His clothing was simple; formfitting, deep blue shirt with sleeves a bit too long. Black jeans that looked worn and over used boots, laces lazily done. He seemed thin but gave off a strong vibe that made Takashi assume he was a fighter. That and the scars on his cheek and bandage wrapped knuckles.
"What's it to you?" Takashi answered coldly. Who did this punk 'kid' think he was? If not for him being completely exhausted, Takashi may have acted more aggresively towards this rude stranger. The kid "heh"ed and hopped down onto the beach of equal level with the soaking ex-marine. He slid his hands into his pockets and casually strolled over to Takashi.
"Nothing at all. Just thought you could use a friendly 'hello' or something like that." He passed by with a light pat on the front of his shoulder. Takashi was a little taken back by the kid's casualness about the situation. It's not everyday a random man comes washing up on the beach, yet the kid acted like nothing happened at all. "Oh, and by the way..." he added in, still walking. "I wouldn't go around showing off that jacket or waving around that weapon. No good luck there, I promise you." With the slight wave of the hand, his back still facing Takashi, the stranger strolled off up the beach; leaving the washed up newcomer feeling a tad odd. He never even got his name.
Last edited by Cap'n Jefu (2006-11-20 16:54:11)
Zan was lost....
Not that it was a bad thing, I mean, some of the worlds great islands were discovered by people who were dead lost right?... oh, who am I kidding... he thought dejectedly...I wonder what the navigator would have said were he here... he, of course wasn't...nor was the captain, nor anyone on the former crew for that matter.
On the horizon though, Zan could barely (just barely) make out an island. I steer toward that I should at least get somewhere! he spun the wheel to its new headding...but he had a problem, he only had one sail on his ship...they had lost all the others...but it didn't matter. The ship would still move...besides, Zan couldn't exactly trim seven sails anyway. He looked on to this new island...and perhaps, a new beginning...
As Rhynn walked away from the property, he noticed a few city guards running his way. "YOU! THIS IS THE FIFTH INCIDENT JUST THIS MONTH!" the leadre shouted as he approached. Rhynn shrugged and lit a sigarette. "Just a demonstration of my handicraft. And a small victory in the battle against horrible taste." e nodded towards the burning pile of garden-flamingo.
The guard shook his head and unhinged a pair of manacles from his belt. "You're gonna come with us this time! And serve your accumulated penalty!" the guard rushed towards Rhynn, who opened a comparment inside his coat. As the guard grabbed his arm, Rhynn grabbed the guard's wrist with his free arm, twisted around to reverse the situation, put the manacles on his hand, then pulling it under his leg. As the guard fell forward, Rhynn grabbed his arm and locked the other one so the manacles were locked behind his knee. As he rose, he lit a stick of dynamite with his sigarette and stuck it in his belt right above his buttocks.
The guard screamed for his life as Rhynn walked off with a casual wave. The other guards stood there in shock and watched as the fuse burnt.
A burst of sparks and glitter erupted from the guard's backside, with a shrill "fweee!" noise as the "dynamite" blew up. Half the guards had a hard time stop laughing, while the other half simply stared in amazement. The guard suffered some light burns, but was otherwise not very hurt, apart from his pride and decency.
Takashi looked across at the man, now hurrying along the beach. He shouldn't let someone get away with that, and he wouldn't.
'Hey!' He shouted, running to catch up with the would-be comedian. Takashi unlatched his Halberd from his back, swinging it expertly around until the axe blade rested against the neck of the man, able to slice through the jugular with a jerk of his arm.
'Turn around.' he barked, keeping the sharpened edge pressed against the man's neck.
The man... boy even, turned around, and Takashi caught sight of the scars across his right cheek. He crack into a smile.
'Where'd you get that scar? lose a fight with a cat?'
All thoughts of axe and neck forgotten, the stranger attacked, snarling and spitting as he grabbed the halberd handle and thrust it away from him, wildly swinging punches and kicks at Takashi, who had been caught off guard by the sudden attack, found himself thrown to the floor, throwing up sand as he fell.
'It was no cat that gave me this.' whispered the man, slamming a fist down towards Takashi, who rolled aside, picking up his Hlaberd as he did so and bringing it down into the man's exposed back.
At this point Takashi collapsed, exhausted and wounded from his previous battles. He instantly regretted the attempt to repair his injured pride as the boy stood up, apparently unhurt by the previous strike. The last thing takashi heard was the crack of knuckles before blacking out...
In the merchant sector of Potter's Island, in the basement of “Hairy Pottery”, a small group of thugs held their monthly meeting, which usually consisted of getting drunk and destroying any merchandise that was being stored there. The gang's leader was a decently built young man going by the name of Drake Carlson and his group was known as Drake's Ducks. Instead of seeking jobs and pursuing a profession, they found it more entertaining simply to loaf around town, occasionally threatening merchants for free food and drinks. In that basement, with only a few lamps scattered about to provide light, Drake's Ducks continued their free lifestyle when the door leading upstairs swung open with tremendous might.
Caught off guard, everyone looked up, half-expecting the store's proprietor, a weak feeble man named Johnson, to be there. Instead, it was a 25 year old man, dressed in a clean white suit, cracking his knuckles while carrying a bag in one of his hands. He walked casually down the stairs, each footstep echoing in the dimly lit room, until he walked straight up to Drake himself. He removed the sunglasses he wore to reveal dark brown eyes which carried a dark past behind them and he spoke in a voice that was cool and monotone. “The owner of this store has asked that you all 'be taken care of.' In exchange for payment, I have agreed to his terms.”
Sensing danger, Drake and his men went alert, some reaching for clubs and knives. The blue-haired stranger reached into the bag he carried with him, the others watched carefully, waiting to strike as soon as he pulled out his weapon. The man's voice once again filled the dark room, revealing what he had in store for them, “So I have brought you 10 bottles of sake as well as various types of snacks. I hope that pleases you.”
Drake and his men were momentarily stunned and then began to laugh like a pack of hyenas. Drake happily accepted the bag and gave the delivery man a great big pat on the back, “Hahaha, looks like that old coot finally learned to just accept us. Why don't you go back and tell him we said thanks?”
“Technically, that is not part of my contract but I need to collect my pay anyway. You gentlemen have a good time now,” the man said as he returned upstairs to a old man eagerly awaiting news.
“So, did you take care of them? Are they gone?” the old man asked.
“They have not left yet, but I have taken care of them. I provided them with some food and drink,” the younger of the two replied.
The old man ran to the door leading downstairs and poked his head in, watching as the hoodlums continued their wild party and his precious pottery being used as targets. He turned back to the young man, fury evident in his voice, “That's not what I meant by 'take care of them'. I want you to go beat them up and throw them out of my basement!”
The man in the suit stood there for a minute, thinking, realizing that it now made sense. He replaced the sunglasses, hiding the look of shame that was on his face. “I see...”
Drake's Ducks were now in a wild mood, all were laughing, telling jokes and having a good time. The door upstairs once again swung wide open, with the man before standing there. Drake called out to him, “How are you doing buddy? Did you bring anything else for us?”
Locke Sterling, former enforcer, currently muscle-for-hire, nodded his head and spoke one word, “Pain.”
Last edited by Loc (2006-11-07 10:25:00)
Zan stood on the dock...relived. He had no clue how he managed to bring the ship in all by himself, and was even more amazed that he hadn't ruined the dock in doing so. He bent down, tapped the dock to make sure it was real...The first true port I've been too in ages! Finaly, somewhere I can start again... Zan thougth of what he would do as he walked off the dock...and was stoped by the dock manager.
"Excuse me sir." He told Zan, "But its 20 belli to tie up your boat at the dock...and I shall need to know your name...."
Zan looked at him, brow twisted at the irony...."Can't you just...confiscate it or something?"
The man looked at him in shock. "SIR, I don't have the athourity to..."
"Hang on..." Zan held up his hand and searched his bag...Where is it...I knew I had some change in here... "AH HA!" he yelled in triumph, pulling two 10 B coins from his bag. "Here you are sir." he said throwing the coins at the man, who was able to think fast enough to catch them.
"Will you be needing it again sir? I could buy it from you..." the man said the last bit with a salesman's flare...
"I'll think about it...but, it's only got the one sail..." Zan pointed at the ship to make a point..."It was built to run three...still, I may need it sometime soon..." then he decided to ask the man a question..."any good pubs around here, I'm in need of a stiff drink..."
Walking back the way he came, towards a remodeled schooner bearing the name "Steel-gull" Rhynn came across the scene of a young street fighter standing over the ex-marine he briefly exchanged glances with earlier. He looked over the top of his book and sighed. Somewhere deep inside his grouchy guts, some sort of displaced loyalty to his old comerades stirred. But he figured that it was most likely gas.
He walked on, finishing the chapter of his book, leaving the heroines in a dire situation with no clothes. He arrived at his schooner, and closed the book. As he started to walk up the gangplank, he noticed three burly figures with striped suits and poorly hidden firearms. "We regret to inform ya that this 'ere ship is now property of the world bank. So kindly take yer presence elsewhere." the leader said, opening his suit-jacket and casually showing his "hidden" gun.
Rhynn looked around, analyzing the situation. He didn't see any way to take them out without him or them firing a shot and alerting local authority. He would need help to take them down quickly and silently. He pondered for a second and decided to go ask the young fighter. It was always nice to find people with that useful combination of strength and skill, combined with youthful passion and naivité.
"Just don't touch anything. I have trapped it to keep thieves out... and I didn't really consider wether or not the thieves lives when he triggers the traps..." Rhynn said and left.
As he came back to the scene of the fight, the pair was gone. "What a hassle..." he sighed, then noticed a scrape along the ground, which wasn't there before. "How considerate..." he commented and started tracking them.
Last edited by Crimson Cade (2006-11-06 14:05:33)
The young man got to his feet surprisingly slowly, wiping the clinging beach stuck to his clothes. He must've sensed a sort of victory as his wet opponent fell back into the sand. He cracked his knuckles in the palm of his other hand as he stepped towards his fallen foe, ignoring the strike dealt to his back.
"Come on, get up." he demanded, the feeling of battle still flowing through him. "Let's finish this little quarrel, eh?" No answer from the lifeless Takashi. The black haired fighter tilted his head and lowered his guard. He gave a small shove with his boot to the fallen man and received no response again. "Oi, old man?" He kicked again, only this time a little harder. Nothing. The conscious of the two crossed his arms, lowered his head and sighed, all at once. He was a bit disappointed that his battle ended quite prematurely. He glanced at the downed body and thought. "Guess I can't just leave you here."
The lively streets of Potter's Island had begun to grow quieter for a strange sight trudging along them. Not even trying to be inconspicuous, the young fighter from the beach had grabbed a hold of each leg of Takashi's and was currently dragging him up the street. Don't worry, the boy pulled him on his back. The cumbersome Halberd the ex-marine carried was no fun task for the carrier either. Having to somehow tie it securely to his own belt, the axe-like blade screeched along the stone road, alerting EVERYONE of their presence. He wasn't trying to hide his being and this young man could care less what others thought.
"Jeez old man..." the boy grunted. "How much do you weigh...?" Of course, the place the fighter had chosen for a place to spend his nights was a cheap inn almost opposite from the beach. As he continued to drag the unconscious, soaking wet stranger the boy turned to look at his 'dead weight' and sighed. "How do you get yourself into these situations Vahn...!" he complained at himself as he slowly made his way through town, annoying every passerby in the district. He had a bad habit of helping people, he knew that... but this was just ridiculous.
Finally, he had arrived at the inn. Vahn was quite out of breath as he dropped the knocked out newcomer on the innkeeper's floor and made his way to the front desk. The innkeeper looked horrified at the body and then back at Vahn. The young man inhaled deep and exhaled calmly, resting an arm on the counter.
"I got a guest... Mind helping me bring him upstairs?"
Last edited by Cap'n Jefu (2006-11-06 22:46:31)
Takashi awoke, his head feeling as thoughi t was stuffed full of cotton wool. What had happened? He'd attacked that little streak of piss, and then... and then...
Nope. The memory was not forthcoming. Opening his eyes, Takashi saw a glass and jug of water on the desk nearby, as well as a sink. This looked like a hotel room. Drinking greedily straight from the jug, Takashi washed his face in the sink, feeling wonderfully refreshed as it washed away the crusted salt. Feeling better already, he began to look around this unfamiliar room for his Halberd... Which was gone. He swore and kicked at the wall, cracking the plaster and leaving a visible dent. That thief! and Takashi was damned if he hadn't balanced the weapon just the way he liked it. Noticing his coat hanging in the corner of the room, he grabbed it and strode out into a hallway, heading towards the stairs. As eh thumped down them he locked eyes with the innkeeper quivering behind the reception desk.
'The boy. Who is he?' Snarled Takashi glaring at the innkeeper.
'V-Vahn. Vahn Renzo... sir.' There was something about Takashi that always made people feel it would be safer to address him as sir.
'Any idea where he's gone?'
'N-no I-' The innkeeper didn't finish the sentence as the ex-marine grabbed him by the lapels, hauled him over the desk and slammed him into the wall.
'I told you I don't know!' wailed the innkeeper, desperately squirming and wriggling. 'All I know is that he left draggin a halberd behind him, muttering something about the scrapyards always looking for good steel...'
'WHERE ARE THE SCRAPYARDS!?' Roared takashi, giving the man another shake for good measure.
'N-North, along the main street. Just turn right as you get outside and keep going! NOw please don't hurt me!'
Takashi released the man and watched him slump down to the floor, sobbing and shaking. Just before exiting out into the street, he took a deep breath, and fished a coin out of his pocket, tossing it at the man.
'Go buy yourself some new underwear. it doesn't smell like you can use that pair anymore.'
Just when the people of Potter's Island thought all had returned to normal, the screech of merely minutes before had returned. And the same boy, a Vahn Renzo, was guilty of the disturbance of peace. He moved quicker this time, not having a heavy man to drag along, and he had moved the halberd from the belt to over his shoulder... awkwardly holding the bottom as the top scraped the stone way.
"Hmmm..." Vahn pondered as he came to a stop. "Now was it this way...? Or that?" He looked down two different streets respectively as he spoke to himself. "I've been here a week and still don't know my way around?" He smiled. "Got into some great brawls though..."
"Hey!!" a voice from behind him came. Vahn looked. "Watch where ya carryin' that thing! I almost tripped!" It was only one of the town's citizens. For a second, the young fighter thought it was that wet old man coming back for his weapon. Vahn exhaled and smirked.
"Heh. Have a nice day, sir." he finished almost sarcastically. And with a nod he continued in the direction he decided was the way, remembering the sheer weight of the metal rod with sharp implements included. "Tch. Why couldn't he have just had a bag full of Belli?" He grunted as he pulled the halberd further. "Would've made my life a helluva lot easier..."
After a few minutes of making his way, Vahn had realized that he was lost. Well, not lost per say... just unsure of where the Scrapyard was from his current position. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and let out an annoyed sigh.
"Of course I steal something that couldn't be sold to a merchant easily..." he complained with himself as he took a quick rest. He was at an intersection now, but noticed something familiar about it. Upon further expection, he saw the scrape marks left by the same halberd he was carrying that he had made earlier. "Great..." he mumbled and wandered into the street, dragging "Ol' Hally" along. He stopped the first person he met with a question. "Hey mister, could you tell me how to get to the Scrapyards from here?"
The man he stopped was old, or at least middle-aged. He donned a similar jacket to the ones the Navy wears and was carrying a small book. A burning cigarette hang in his mouth as it curled into a lazy smile.
Zan was just about to open the doar to the pub he had been directed to, when he heard comotion from down the street...he looked, and saw a man in an old and worn (and modified) marine jacket shouting "OUT OF MY WAY" and shoving people to the side before they could comply. Zan quicly ran to the other side of the street. The furious man stormed down the road like a whirlwind...and passed Zan without incedent.
Zan sighed in relief...and he walked back over to the pub door. When he was not two feet from the door, it was flung open by a flying thug. Zan moved out of the way again and was able to barely escape a colision.
...what kind of crazy town IS this...
Last edited by John Fuuma (2006-11-06 15:49:44)
"Kid, I'll tell you something even better..." Rhynn began. "First of all, the scrap-yard is down this road, then the sixth street to the left. About five blocks. But I have a proposal which will make you several times more money than scrapping things will." Rhynn offered the young man a sigarette and added "All you have to do is beat up two greasy suits in a short amount of time... and you seem agile enough."
The old man before him answered as if he had planned their confrontation from the start. He mentioned something better but continued to tell him where the scrapyard was nonetheless. Vahn took light note of the directions in his head as this middle aged man started revealing what was 'even better'.
"...But I have a proposal which will make you several times more money than scrapping things will." Vahn couldn't help but smile as he declined the gift of a cigarette. "All you have to do is beat up two greasy suits in a short amount of time... and you seem agile enough." Almost instantly, the boy's ears perked and he seemed to wander off in his own mind. Rhynn noticed he hadn't answered yet and asked, "...Something wrong kid?"
Suddenly Vahn grinned, coming back to life. He lifted up the heavy Halberd, as if a show of strength, and rested it horizontally across his shoulders with raised forearms keeping it from falling.
"A fight, eh?" Already he was getting excited but he tried to restrain it. "Not sure why ya need me to beat up these guys but you have yourself a deal, old man."
"Great. I'll tell you more on the way..." the crusty ex-marine concluded with a hint of assurance in the boy's skills.
"Vahn." the young fighter added. Rhynn looked at him. "Name's Vahn Renzo, greatest fighter in the world."
"Heh," the older man chuckled. "Don't let that huge ego shadow your skills, kid. Now let's go."
Rhynn started back towards the beach but stopped when he noticed Vahn hadn't moved yet.
"There another problem...?" asked Rhynn, a little annoyed. Vahn's cheeks reddened a little bit as he laughed nervously.
"This thing's damn heavy... Mind helping me out?" Rhynn slapped his forehead with a sigh of disbelief.
Last edited by Cap'n Jefu (2006-11-06 22:25:42)
The bar had become a temporary headquarters that was about to be changed if one more glass broke, if one more drunk moron staggered over to order yet another beer, if one more person used a cheap line or touched her arm or leg. She swore by it. Of course, this is the fifth time she thought of it and didn't move even when a glass broke or another keg was ordered.
Even after the third guy came up with the worst line ever (while putting his hands on her shoulders he said, "Oh these are shoulder blades, I thought they were wings." Though she would say it was the worst, she thought it was the sweetest thing she ever heard) she still remained at her stool, tapping delicate fingers against the polished wood in a not-exactly-as-patient-as-you'd-think wait for a drink. Even with good senses it was kind of hard to heard anything over a loud, drunken, crowd. When the drink finally came it was warm and she had left two minutes before, walking past a body and Zan, saying an Excuse me, Sorry to him.
Out on the streets was something different though it wasn't as loud at the bar, it was a bit better in volume but no matter what there was always some type of chaos. Luckily for her, there wasn't much of it so or so she hoped. The streets were littered, the sun was bright, golden eyes blinked to adjust to it as the rays kissed black hair and displayed the true color of deep brown. Today was just another day.
"Yer kidding me, kiddo?" Rhynn walked over and tested the weight of the weapon. "Hmm... then dump it. It's a hass-" Rhynn paused as ideas for uses of this unyieldly thing came into mind. Rhynn grabbed a random wheelbarrow and offered Vahn to dump it on it. The owner of the wheelbarrow came after them, shouting "STOP RIGHT THERE, YOU BLOODY THIEVES!" Rhynn casually drew a modified pistol and shot the guy in the head.
Vahn expected a bloody mess, but the gun only fired a dart, which sat embedded in the forehead of the angry man. Who quickly turned into the unconscious man. Vahn raised an eyebrow. Rhynn shrugged "Meh... figure he owes me for saving the island from pirates way back." which was Rhynn's attitude towards society in general. They all owed him for his deeds. And he was taking it back bit by bit.
Takashi looked down at the pavement and smiled. There was a long and deep scratch running down the street that looked recent. The kid clearly didn't have the strength for it. It didn't surprise Takashi really, who was older and stronger than the thief had been. Keeping his eyes firmly glued to the road, he began to break into a run, his other senses had been honed well enough to allow him to dodge out the way of those in his path, or, if necessary, force them out the way.
Takashi had been running for a few minutes when the scratch came to a sudden stop. The halberd had apparently dissapeared. Looking frantically aorund, he caught sight of jet black hair, and a wheel barrow, the butt of the halberd sticking out of it. That hooligan appeared to have someone with him. No matter. Running twoards both of them from behind, Takashi outstretched his arms, grabbing each person by the back of the skull as he passed, and with ferocious force, bringing his arms (with heads and bodies inevitably following) around together. There was an audible clonk as the two people's skulls butted heads and collapsed to the floor. Looking down, Takashi saw both men groaning and rubbing there heads. One of them... One of them was that damn marine! He'd pay for conspiring him against him, but for now...
Picking up Vahn up by his lapels, Takashi laid a ferocious backhanded slap across the boy's face, leaving a livid red mark. Dropping him back on the floor, Takashi picked up his halberd and clipped it to the special holder sown into his jacket. Spitting on the boy he gave him a quick kick, snarling as he said, 'How do you like that you little shit!?'
“5000 belli, barely enough to buy a good meal...” Locke commented counting the money as he left the store. A meal though was all he needed, then he would leave for another island. Potter's Island was all right, but it wasn't for him. It was still too close to his own island, too close to Valko, for comfort. He began walking down the street but walked barely four steps when he nearly ran into Zan. “Forgive me,” Locke began, looking at man before him. He looked as if he had been through some tough times as well, and Locke felt a little sympathy for him. Pulling out a 1000 belli note from his pocket, he handed to Zan, “You look like you could use some help.”
Without waiting for the man to refuse or accept it, Locke continued to walk, offering the man an opportunity to repay his debt, “If you ever wish to pay me back, my name is Locke Sterling. Take care.”
Making his way onto the Main Street, he was surprised to see it looked as if a tornado had passed through. Several people were on the ground, nursing minor injuries, complaining about “some crazy bastard.” The destruction's path seemed to be leading towards the scrapyards. All thoughts of food vanished, replaced with curiosity. Readjusting his sunglasses to block the sun's light, he walked the same path down Main Street as the “tornado.”
Rhynn groaned, realizing that karma had found a way to include his forehead in the schemes it held for the young boy. As the older ex-marine kicked the young man, Rhynn exhaled in annoyance "Don't beat him up too bad, I'll need him in shape for a job..." he half-heartedly commented as he inspected the broken sigarette with a sigh.
"If you can't keep your stuff to yourself, you obviously need to get it back..." Rhynn shrugged "That is just natural, and I sympathize with your situation..." he tilted his head, rubbing his neck, and with an uncharacteristical flash of movement, bringing out a sawed-off shotgun from his back, pointing it at Takashi's head.
"But the next time, try to be a little more selective about your targets... you never know who is the sociopath ex-marine with a death-wish..." Takashi cursed, there was no way he could approach the gun-toting ex-marine without gettig shot by the close-combat firearm. Rhynn drew a fresh sigarette from his chest-pocket, and offered one to Takashi. "If you're done with the child-abuse, I have a proposal for you..."
Takashi feigned interest, trying to calculate the odds that he could unlatch his Halberd and move the axe blade in the path of the buckshot... But the odds were unacceptable. As he thought of what to do, he felt a faint glimmer of recognition. He'd served a term in a marine base situated in more dangerous waters once, but that had been a few years ago. At the time he'd been a sergeant, and had been placed in charge of the new recruits. The only trouble had been that recruits were dire, and the last thing Takashi wanted was to spend his spare time with them. In desperation he had spent most of his free time on the move, trying to avoid his snot nosed recruits. lest they invite him to come and join them. In his desperation, he had ended up in the engineering department, watching "the boy with the magic fingers." as the other engineers referred to him. The name... what was his name...
'Rhynn Chelimber!'Shouted Ragnarok in recognition, slapping away the shotgun from the surpised Rhynn with a wave of his hand and pulling the man into a bear hug. It was partially a greeting, but the unexpected action had thrown the man off guard, and the hug had given Takashi time to assess the man's reactions. They were good, or at least, better than he'd expected.
'Do I know you?' Grunted Rhynn, annoyed that he'd lost the advantage by allowing his gun to be knocked away from the lethal area. Now this stranger could retaliate if there was a fight.
'Of course you know me! Marine Base 84, Sergeant Takashi Ragnarok, and you are "the boy with the magic fingers"!'
Rhynn searched his memory for the name, and found a vague recolloection. 'oh... right. The one who was asking me about counterbalancing. And no one's called me by that name for years.'
Takashi drew back to examine Rhynn, looking the man up and down. They'd never been particularly well acquainted, and the only real conversation they'd had... well it had been short and technical. It was around that time that Takashi had been looking into a weapon other than a cutlass. Up uintil that point he'd failed to meet a blacksmith who was able to create a Halberd light enough, and durable enough to be used. It had been Rhynn who had suggested a way around that though. He'd suggested counterbalancing it, so all Takashi had to do was shift the balance to thread attacks together, instead of using his own strength to swing it each time. As well as that, he'd also suggested a way to cut down on weight and increase durability (provided money was no object) was to make the halberd out of layers of tempered steel. Takashi hadn't been able to take that advice up for a few years, but when he had, it had worked beautifully. The problem was, that advice had meant Takashi owed Rhynn... And once that had happened, it seemed like Rhynn owned the sergeant's soul, despite only being a regular marine at the time. If Rhynn remembered the advice, it looked like Takashi would still owe him.
'So what's a talented young man like you doing here?' asked Takashi, keeping an eye on Vahn, who was struggling to get up. Takashi put an end to that attempt by stamping on his skull.
'I got tired of working myself to the bone just so those around me got the credit. I'm freelancing now.' As he said this, Rhynn took out a cigarette from behind his ear and placed it in his mouth. Takashi promptly whipped it out from between the man's lips, holding it between two pursed fingers.
'Filthy habity that/' he muttered, examining the cigarette before putting it in his own mouth. 'Got a light?'
"Still the loud bag of abuse, I see." Rhynn commented as he lit the sigarette with a fuelbased lighter. "Thought you died at sea. In fact, several people hoped so. And HQ told us quite the tale... seems you left as loud as you came" he smirked and stuffed away the lighter. "And I see you still carry around the overly ambitious axe of yours. And you took my advice..." Rhynn mused a second "...though I would have used a more gradually increasing proportion. This brainfart of a counterweight denies you both speed and power."
Looking at Vahn, Rhynn gave a shrewd smile "Say, Takashi, how about you help me undo some bad manners on my schooner, and I help you turn this abomination into a weapon?" Takashi had mixed emotions about someone calling his weapon an abomination, but the lure of power was tempting "I need access to my workshop, and it's on my ship." Rhynn added and nodded towards the harbor. "Oh, and I thought this kid could help. Unless you want to keep wailing on him." Rhynn made a mocking frown "Beating up kids still seems to be your forte, eh?"
Takashi growled, but did not rise to the bait.
'I almost did die at sea... And I'm sure old Finnegan did.'
'How do you know?'
'I killed him myself.'
'I can see why you left the marines- are you going to help me or not?'
'Fine, I'll help you, because I can see your obviously itching to get your hands on my weapon, and I'm sure the Blacksmith that did it can't possibnly compare to as fine an engineer as you... If i help you, then you give this Halberd the works, free of charge... But don't ruin the tempered steel! it cost me close to a million Beli to get those layers!'
Rhynn was as dismissive as he'd ever been, aknowledging it with a wave of his hand, cigarette nestled between fingers and billowing smoke. 'Whatever... Just follow me.'
Takashi nodded, picking up Vahn by the scruff of the neck from the floor, and dragging him along by his feet. In response to Rhynn's questioning glance he shrugged.
'I want to keep this one with me. He's my new stress ball.'
'That sounds about right. I'm surprised you weren't kicked out of the marines for excessive brutality... to your own comrades.'
'It's a way of life. I need someone to beat the shit out of when I get mad, and the general view is rather him than me.'
'So what DID get you kicked out of the marines?'
'Nothing, I left it of my own free will. I'm Captain Takashi now.'
'Really, where's your crew?' asked Rhynn, a malevolent glimmer in his eye.
'Temporarily incapacitated. ...well, I SAY temporarily, it's more like permanently. And I SAY incapcitated, it's more like dead.'
'What killed them?'
Rhynn clearly hadn't heard of what Takashi had done. Not many did, since the marines didn't tend to give a reason for the Wanted posters, espcecially not regarding traitors who embaressed the institution. Rhynn had asked what killed his crew. Justice? The marines? Enies Lobby? ...Best not to mention that.
'A storm. A storm killed them.'
What time is it? Late. How about time to get a watch. Ha ha. The woman shook her head, driving away the odd thoughts of her mind, but one remained: What do I do now? Figure it out later. The man thrown from the bar had not yet gotten up, she figured he was either dead or in a coma, and stepped right over him. Walking only lasted about a moment until her feet suddenly decided they no longer wished to move and she saw as to why with a quick glance. Up the street was a man dragged yet another body by the collar with someone following by his side. Now that she thought about, it she didn't even know the name of this island.
Now was not the time to ask, of course, two bodies in one day? She was probably next on the hit list. Two bodies were enough to not ask what time it was or where the hell she even was. Maybe tomorrow would be better but today was not turning out to be another day.
Last edited by Kurotsuki (2006-11-07 17:27:12)
(OOC: this is gonna be a little past mixed to the present since you guys posted alot today. and it'll be a long one.)
Vahn was more than happy to have something else do the carrying for him. Besides just not wanting to, the damn thing was heavy and worthless to him. But the crusty sea officer seemed to have some sort of interest in it. Vahn dropped it in the wheelbarrow, still smiling about the little scene Rhynn had created. He began pushing the new transporting device and the two made way down the street.
"So, mind telling me why you need my skills?" started Vahn, thinking he might as well get the briefing over with. Rhynn finished lighting a cigarette and took a puff. He opened his mouth to speak when suddenly something had grabbed both of their skulls. Vahn let go of the wheelbarrow as he was lifted up and slammed into his new acquaintance. He was then tossed to the ground before instantly being picked up again, only to be smacked across the face and dropped to the floor. Not a great way to be greeted by someone.
Vahn hadn't been hit that hard in a long, long time. Vivid pictures of his past shot through his mind as he was kicked again by this large man. The vision in his one eye was blurry and he held his head as he lay on the ground.
Who the hell is this..? the boy thought. Either way... I'm gonna kick his overgrown ass... That is, after he regained his senses. Vahn was still reckless, but not stupid. He had learned the hard way to not go rushing into a fight without at LEAST seeing who his opponent was. Luckily for him though, it seemed the attacker was distracted with old Rhynn. But not as enemies... as friends? This was a good thing for Vahn. He could now at least make the ringing in his ears go away.
The two had a talked a few minutes and Vahn had found out that the pair happened to know eachother. Both were ex-marines that served in the same base or something like that. Vahn didn't care, he didn't like marines much. He began to sit up, rubbing his forehead.
Would explain the ruthless beatings... he thought in relation to the man who attacked him... Wait. Who did attack him? Vahn looked up at the attacker. His jaw almost dropped as he saw that it was that man from the beach! Suddenly, the boy regretted going to see the ocean that day.
"Talk about karma..." mumbled the young fighter, making Takashi look over and kick him in the gut. Vahn let out a painful sound and rolled to his side. The two talked a little more and suddenly Vahn found himself being picked up by the back of his shirts, lifted up by the one he later would know as Takashi Ragnarok. They then started down the road but Vahn had had enough.
The pain and ringing had gone away and Vahn wasn't about to let this crazy bastard tote him around like a puppy. With a sudden yank, Vahn loosened the grip of Takashi and scrambled to his feet. Takashi turned slowly around and Rhynn looked over, relatively uncaring. Vahn tightened his fists and jumped into a battle stance facing towards his foe.
"Think you're so tough because you snuck up behind me, huh?" Vahn shouted, ready to battle at any moment. "Let's finish what we started at the beach! I promise you I won't lose."
"See? What'd I tell ya? Full of spunk, this one." Rhynn commented. Takashi smiled sort of evilly, his knuckles resting on his waist; not even ready to battle... and Vahn grunted because of this.
"What's wrong? Know you'll lose!?" The boy was breathing heavily, the adrenaline pumping. He hadn't felt any sort of revenge like this since...
And just like that, Takashi let out a hard laugh. This caused Vahn to lower his guard and look at him with confused eyes. Takashi could see he was still just a kid at heart, but with the skills and passion of a fighter. He almost kind of liked him. Almost.
"Not right now, boy." the ex-marine started. "I've got an old friend to help. I'll have to kick your ass later." He turned around and started walking again. "Feel free to tag along. You're fun to beat on." He bellowed out in laughter and Rhynn watched him, rubbing his rugged chin and then shrugging, looking over at Vahn next.
"Be careful with Takashi," Rhynn said as he puffed his cigarette. "He's known for some nasty things... Or don't, your choice."
"I'm not afraid of him." Vahn retorted quickly, shoving hands in his pockets; his battle temper wearing off. "I've taken down bigger brutes." Rhynn shook his head.
"Kids these days are so naive..." he whispered and looked up to the young fighter. "Well, I said I needed your help too. You comin'?" He then took off in the same direction as Takashi, tossing a drained cigarette to the ground. As much as Vahn didn't want to be involved with that oversized gorilla-man, the thought of battle invited him to continue with the two old sea dogs. And besides, Takashi owed him a fight.
And with a light sigh, returning Vahn to his relaxed self, he hurried along to follow Rhynn. Takashi too, even if he didn't want to admit it.
Last edited by Cap'n Jefu (2006-11-07 18:30:52)