▐「 COMPANY 」Thaddeusxxx▐「 WORDS 」508 xxx▐「 OOC 」xxx
The docks were always a favorite place of hers to come, Nima being a true daughter of the sea and always finding peace near her source of happiness, even in these desperate times she has found herself caught up in, the sea still soothed her heart with ease. It has been a few weeks now since the young adventurer set off to embark on her very first and most important journey, she had money and food when she had gone however all of that wasted away quickly due to increased hunger and needing to pay fare to all the ships she came aboard, now she found herself stranded in this small town awaiting a sea savvy prince to pluck her up and whisk her away with him. The idea made her skin tingle and turn bright and tomato-like, the warmth colliding with the cool winds of the south where she was located. The breeze of the ocean fill the air, a wispy more dense oxygen thanks to the potency of the sea from the docks, this kind of air always seemed much more pure and healthy to the young woman whose father made his living through the waters, her true home was always out there in the vastness of the deep blue.
Her journey to the south was a little strange for the undead woman. She had come to the area on a handful of occasions during her time with the living however she never became well acquainted with the area, most of her visits consisting of bounty collecting and the likes. Thaddeus had requested she meet him in the area and it wasn't an invitation she would refuse. He had successfully gained her attention when he waved about the large purse of coin he carried with him, alongside promises of wealth and work. Awaiting her new companion the zombie took a seat on the soft grass near the coast. The earthy aroma mixing in with her own unique scent of the dead and tying in nicely. Rotten brittle fingers combed through her silky purple hair, her large sapphire hues scanning the horizon for any sign of the fiery haired devil who was beginning to grow on her. Her mind wandered to her old friends, the silly surfer, the sexed up Mirin and the she-wolf Ai whom she had wished she could've traveled alongside a little longer. "All guts no glory, all survivor no guilt." Nima whispered to herself, a chant of hers that she used like a mantra, it embodied what she believed. The undead woman always had to put herself first no matter what, if it benefited her she needed to seize it regardless of circumstance or the aftermath of her choices. Letting out a sigh she attempted to recollect herself, she may be missing her other company however things with Thaddeus could prove beneficial or even a little fun if she stuck around long enough. She didn't want to write the sly merchant off just yet, at the very least she would consider his offer.
It was strange, the sweetness of honey could be found even in the air of curled smoke as it'd rise from the stacks of chimneys, the gradient captured by the illuminated orbs before the shadowed hooded eyelids would wince and close from the outpouring light. The twinkles of Sol's radiance causing the strong brow line to tense as the thick heels of the maunder would collide briskly with the pavement, the clacks of lacquered wood and of blanched bone commingling with an essence that would scream up to their owner. A light tsk! given as the maroon tinted hand would rise within the sweltering air to comb back the filtering strips of cinnamon and hickory strands, the pain intensifying as it would swell lightly in the shape of a gentle mound. As if eht was't 'nuff tha' he tried ta break meh, f***in fool. And yet, despite all things considered, it would be a brisk walk to the pier as the rough chortle would commence. Aye don' know whos' tha hell youse foolin', marchin' allllll down hereh wit tha intent'n ta wha?! Swim youse way back?!
Collection. Isolation. Premeditation. The orbs of the night would snarl and bark at the figure scuttling past, knocking him off the solid stride he would take when his footfalls felt as soft and smooth as a crystal cut glass of brandy. A petite sigh, the essence escaping before the molten magma would ensue, while the insides of his mouth still tasted of diluted salt and some cheap, dry wine. An impostor of a merlot, an impostor of loyalty. And yet as it wouldn't be any interest of him to have his claw crack tightly around the mosquito animorph's neck, a light whistle would blow from between pale peach lips while the stare would be nothing less of a grim sentence. The shadow of the scurrying male would gracefully cross the wood grain of the planks that settled underneath of their feet, the solo quickly forming a duet as the soft graphite infused obscurity of a haggard, thick claw would come to collect the soft meat of the neck. The string of fine necklaces would twist and thump against the sun kissed sternum as he'd droop his gaze and purse his lips before grimacing, the tension in the claw slowly forming a seal around the deserter's neck with the gleam of the knife still flashing across his eyes. "Tha's funneh, youse wearin' tha uniform." The grip tightening ever so slightly to let the bones of the vertebrae wobble and split as the accessory lined neck would twist and crack itself, a low moan given when the pain of the trauma to the head would pierce him. "An' youse juss got ta run in'ta me when mah head's bout ta explode, not very nice, yeh?" The alto tone now reducing to gravel as glossed irises and their pits would witness the twitching of the insect's facial features, the onslaught of the downgrade of decency. "Naugh go on den, git goin' before tha world finishes killin' youse kin, yeh?" A light shove would be awarded before the sole of the hard knocking shoes would center a blow within the middle of the left clavicle to send the gasping life over into the lapping surf.
A bitter sigh expelled as he would continue in his walk, the navigator combing the swells and troughs to determine a easy flowing path to take and grumbling when his vision would be a bit hazed from the heavy hit to the head once upon a "passions" night. Tha's waht aye git from tryna take a bull animorph in. Youse idiot. The sound of cracked glass crunching underneath of his boot would cause him to pause, lifting the shard embedded heel to inspect before he would see the droplets of blood spilled on the sun beaten planks. A quick sniff before the slender digits would comb down to swirl within the iron infused liquid and bring the glossed fluid up to his lips, sucking on the distal before the brackish wash of lukewarm fahrenheit would tell him everything he wanted to know. Warm...? A confused glance up would capture the portrait of the two males collected onto the rising and depressing body of a boat, a tilt of his head given. The fishman would sigh and rise again, making sure to secure the body of the twisted swirl shell on his back as he'd begin to make his way to the duo sitting nicely within the ship. The lawn chair tripping him as he'd grunt and snarl, kicking the damn thing across the port and as it would skitter the makeshift sign would envelope his attention. The winds whipping past the pecan tresses as the wrap on the back of his head would be taken off, letting the full length of the ribbons dance and curl within the wild streams of air. Letting his head dip back once he'd exhale, knowing who exactly out of the two of which this sign mentions. Of cours' he got ta be tha cappin' when he be wearin' gogo boots. How perfect. An' he gots a spill ah blood, ain't ta great? A sissy cappin' ta boot, sleepin' when there's "great adventures" to be awaited. Heh.
"Oi, this there tha cappin-- ya know tha one who made dat poor excuse of a sign?" His words directed to the bloke with the pitch hued hair, taking careful mention of the iron bar and yet his words would still stand. Although a little lighter than when spoken to most, seeing the haunted expression of the victor of the fight. A firm swallow as he would groan and sit down onto the surface of the pier, taking solemn measures to keep a respectful distance away from the rim of the boat. A soft sigh taken as he'd lean his chin onto the cup of his hand, gazing with fatigue at the bloodied nose man and then to the hulk of a man whose grip seemed to be relentless on the bar of metal. "So wha he do ta get beaten? Youse the first mate that got fed up wit sumthin?"
ZAPPMANIA. A world destined to be a shrine for the one and only man who could make the gods weep with his everlasting existence. Though short---oops! Certainly finite would be the better answer; he'd prove them that mite, men, and monsters alike had no bearings in placement in the world when there was just the one who had the power to switch it all up. How amazing would that be? Even in his current state of dozing, he was a champion fighting the numbing pain. His body had no problem twitching every so often but his head would loll, letting the beautiful crimson stained blonde locks sway with a wave of ethereal and unrivaled beauty. IT WAS A SIN FOR HITTING A MAN SO BEAUTIFUL--- An outcry spoken by no one to show the lack of faith and conviction in the fake fans. Yes, that's how he saw the world. Either they were true fans, or snakes hiding their doubts with false grins and cheering. They were all fans nonetheless and a man of his large caddy would not fault them for simply not knowing any better.
One could say it might apply to this current dark haired delinquent standing at an awkward length before him. Not that he was conscious to know, he could just smell the lack of pheromones and only the stench of bulking testosterone. Well, that was fine too, he accepted love from many angles though he'd prefer the more pretty kind. Just a tier below his own because he was the stopping cap for all of virgin beauty. Yes this post was designed to play around the real ball of the reading. What other detail could be added in for the nuance to kick in besides the starting cast? There was Zapp, the handsome, the worldly, the lovable, and a man who obviously couldn't keep his strong hands off of Zapp. Is there no such thing than a more obtuse scenario with nothing but flat plotlines to add?
A crooked gleam in the netherworld would exhibit a sickly perverse response. A twist of his lightly scuffed carbonite white go-go boots would jolt and a pocket mirror would fall from his---of course--pocket! The silver circle with dainty design speckled on the back with a gilded F to signal his surname now met the amateur woodplank of his loneman's boat. The light reflected into the mirror and reflected it's glow upon the beautifully bruised face. "Mmmhnnghn.." A groan as the lashes containing fibers of all of Narcissists secrets would flutter with his consciousness spurring awake.
While they might have thought it was the sunbeam doing it--the secret was actually....the power of his own reflection. Beauty, beaming onto beauty through the mirror laid by his handsome thigh had reinvigorated his energy. Beauty, woke up beauty. No kiss needed by the barbaric suitor that seemed to put him here as he'd briefly turn his head to look up at the man blotting the sun. Squinting his eyes as he'd raise a gloved hand. "Kipf?" A hushed voice, for it seemed that the endearing Captain had actually gotten the cretin's name right. A beaten chuckle, though he mistook Aiden for his subordinate given his blurry vision, he swallowed some blood and gave a sweet smile. "How'd I look? Didya get my best angles?" A voice said so with warmth and a bit of teasing. But he'd feel the ringing pain again and groan. "Ohghh, is the world movin' or did you fail to rig the boat up properly? Pbbt, we talked about this, Kendall." .... Well, it was a grade given for effort that he did have a moment where his name was correct.
It was unfortunate that the real Kipf would be seen from behind a stall watching the two by the docks. Nail biting as his hopes had gone dry and....matching adverb go!----awry! The mosquito animorph would think to slink away at least, with both certain possessions in hold and run off the opposite direction deeper into the stalls. Hoping to zip through an alley. Feh, well his idiocy will end him one way or another. Karma comes heavy doesn't it, Zapp?! He hated every letter and if he wasn't running he would spit for every syllable he said in his head. All those miserable months, three years of breaking his back and for him to throw his shoe on his one subordinates name?! It will never be forgiven. The smarmy little thing would zip back off and hide in an alleyway. A perfect spot with a cove on the other end to watch the ships to see what would become of his former commander yet. Drown him, rob him! The heavy frothing of excitement coming from the fact that he wanted to see misery in any form possible like an itching rash. Only straight behind him a shadow emerged and before he could encompass the words fully, the vicegrip over his neck had settled. The last thing it remembered was a shudder and half a breath before the feeling of hell. Cghgkk----he-HELP ME! How ironic that he would reach out for the one man whom he despised before he was thrown into the water.
Boy, this brought back memories of when it all happened.
Just for clicking this icon to look into the fabled tale, you the audience has earned a special spot in Zapp's heart for being an involved fan.
To reward those even further, come, picture a scene to test your imagination. A mob full of weirdos involving the intricate tale of a sinister seductress and her scaly beau--oh? Not the same story? Well, it was certainly worth hitting the avenue to prolong peaked interests.
There was a boy who came to this very same town sitting over a creek off far. Nice shorts and silk socks and a buttercup styled hair prim and princely. A real cherub sweet and stout but like his reflection he was liable to absorb L's. Seven years old, and he had tears in his eyes. Papa Flannigan had died that day and his single greatest living legacy was still a budding boy with no other guidance than his own. He didn't know what to do, and looking up now, he was getting lost. But then a hand had landed ontop of his head and he turned around to gasp. A dark haired woman would sit with a crimson bleed of floral sarong wrapped around her rather--lumpish waist? "Oh....s...scuse me ma'am." The polite little chub would scooch over to make more space for the pregnant woman. About 6 months, looking over the creek. Her hand needing no reason to rest on a lump she wondered whether to devour midway or rip out depending on if her then mate would return or not. Their last spat having her throwing him overboard--literally, a mile into the ocean for him getting lippy. Even after their first child, a strapping strong chinneded boy at that, his father just didn't know how to behave. If I tell him pickles, it's do or die, and not another word.
Her violent streaks had improved but over her pregnancy some joints had to be blown amiss and pillaged. She was clearly a woman who had just about everything but her first chain jingling. Even the comfort of her ride or die first mate didn't ease her mind at times. But here she was, sitting next to a little bum boy probably looking over the ocean and hoping for the same thing. "Who died?" The way she asked it offered no compassion for the child. Strangely enough he'd tilt his head down and sniffle, wiping the chowder nose with his sleeve to look up at the setting horizon. Sideways looking before he'd answer. "My papa. Snkk." And the two were silent.
He'd twist his face with confusion. Wasn't this when adults--especially a maternal figure---a pregnant woman---would come in and offer words of condolence or stoic advice? Instead the woman simply looked up, leaning her head into her elbow as it rested over the creek's foundation. He held in his breath, waiting for another minute or so until the silent made his tummy hurt with air itching to speak. "Um...how come you're here, Ma'am?" The polite voice would squeak before her eyes would settle over the brat. No smile, but something was in there. What was it?
"Trying to see if he'll actually drown this time."
"Wh...what?! ...w-who?"
"The father of my child."
His eyes were cut eggs with seeds in the middle--incredulous. "A-Are you really that mad at him? Wh...what did he do? But, yo-you're a mom...and....isn't it [pointing at the bump] gonna be sad later on?"
"Hnh." That's strange. She's strange. Why is she...smiling?
It was the warmest tinge he'd see on her face yet. A rosy blush settling naturally on the woman with eye ridding question of ethnicity and yet of an exotic beauty. Matched by her dark hair even reflected her eyes still looked like iridescent alexandrites but they seemed to be locked on an itty bitty spot in the sea. What seemed to make her look...strangely happy. He'd turn his head to see and sure enough there was a flailing shape in the waves. To his imagination if he could hear, very faint outcries--something along the lines of 'eat you' among other aggressive lines. A panic and he'd look up at her, seeing her face twist with something smoking inside. A tiny wisp he'd see between two people---actually in love.
An interesting accent made his head swivel. "Not everything has to be conventional." Was her answer.
"Wha...what's that word mean?" He looked at her with a wince of confusion in his eyes. Papa Flannigan said that whenever women said some hard soundin' words, it was almost always a hidden challenge because they weren't mean to do so unless a man were to do it first!
"It means ordinary, regular, usual."
"Well does this happen usually?"
"He usually likes to piss me off."
The answer came fairly simple. But he now saw her look at him with a steady smile, one that..made him push the disturbing aspects and questions he had with this wacky reasoning simply for the reason it reminded him of his own mama's pearly whites. Did her mannerisms change or was he seeing things differently? It would be for a few more minutes and it appeared that the man in the distance disappeared. Odd... But the silence between them wasn't as uncomfortable as it was before now. He braved to ask her another question. "Does he love you?"
"Does he have to?"
"He should!"
"You're very traditional for a brat."
"....but...it's nice for that to be true.."
A snort. "Have some flair in your life, don't settle for such a literal and final answer until you get bored or you become boring."
.... So what was a child to say to that. As if the world knew he was deliberating, a hand had shoved him into the water. Shattering the dream world he was in.
Waking up from the spell of unconscious babbling to new faces aboard. "Where's.....Klimarr...?" The question almost seemed innocent but as always the edge of caring whittled down south as the now lump headed commander would catch another figure right as he seemed to address importance. Immediately, it was as if he was reinvigorated by something beyond worldly men and he was already standing up, stepping over one of his many precious mirrors making a CRACK! that would audibly set the score for them in the eerie future. The pain being pushed to the back of his head like everything else when it came to his name and face. "So I see you're here on account of that sign---heh~ Poor?!" Just as though the winds had heard the voice of the stunning commander it would whip up a strong draft to knock the poster from it's stand for it to land in his arms. About a good foot or two taller than the original. Holding onto it like it was his best chum in the world. "Why thank you for admiring my work~ I'm sure Kibbles stayed up quite the nights to get my lips just right...Hmm..hm....hmmmm~" His mistake, he knew, was looking at even a replica of his image for it drew his eyes in. But of course he'd set it neatly to the side like it was a member of the crew to look up at the choice men he had with him. One of them the latter of who he actually thought he earned through fighting, win or lose. Greedy eyes glimmering with a boyish joy in them as he'd look over at the two roguish looking and possibly dangerous men. We did it Kipf!
And since his body was aching in all the wrong spots...[though it felt also a little right...] he'd stand and decided that he'll just let the other man join to not go through that process again! "Well well, Poodle pomp [to Aiden as he'd look at their boats being tied together] I take it you had better thoughts--you ARE interested~ Now, [turning his face to the both of them], I take it since you're both here on account of our advertisement, you clearly have what it takes to follow my great leadership extending to the stahhwrse! MEN! WE WILL REWRITE THE BIBLE WITH OUR SAGAS. Now the first things-----hm? Hn.." His face would scrunch, for he'd surely notice it now. The absence of his little green mosquito squidgeon. That's unlike him to be late, I always feel him near. A little blue and maybe a little purple on the inside too, who knows now. But if it was a sign, that two more would fill in the spot of one, then so be it. The faint moment of sadness would pass and immediately his face would brighten. Almost like he knew. Because a Flannigan always did. "Ahh well, anyway, now for the matter of registration---ehh....Where is that boy when you need him? Kendrick?!" An easy hand would wave it over. Don't mind, don't mind. "Real men like us don't need no documents for legal hire and pay, hahaha~ Not when we have treasures in the likeness eye to look forward to, am I wrong? Anyway, anyway," Waving little airs with his dainty gloves. "If you're looking for a history of the crew---We don't have one! So we'll just make one, if you're looking for an objective, it'll come every weekend when the greats will deliver it to me on my nightly sleep. And that thing don't come so easily, gentuh'men. Which is why you two come in. So many people want a piece of Zapp, that he can't be restin' so easily nowadays. Now it's not like I couldn't handle those stray sheeps on my own [lie] but rather I like to put my faith in everyone else in a while---it's fair~ To give the rising stars a chance to shine right besides me~"
And he'd gently pat the pompadour of the burly looking man who clearly had something to say. "Hnn, you look like the real handsy type so I'll assign you as second quartah mastah." Feeling the rough calluses on his knuckles would signal that he has seen a good number of fights which meant a good number of things he didn't want him to touch where it mattered. A sparkling semi bloodied smile awarded and he'd turn to gesture to the new man with the auburn blazing sunset hair with the gypsy stained eyes. "And you look like you're just interested! What to do what to do----OHHH!"
"Hello, I'm the commander and authoritay of this little squadron soon to be large--and with a vessel soon to be finished in commission under my fabulous name! Boarding is free and ya only need to pay for it with strict loyalty and your lives~ So what are your names---NO! [clutching the side of his face in dramatic repertoire] How will you make your impression?!" His hand extending immediately out to cover the face of Aiden. "You already made a bruisingly passionate impression so you're fine!~ You can just both tell me what you can bring to the table. heart" Hiding a bit of panic in his eyes before switching over to look cool and charming like a colt running with the train. [???] The flamboyant and foppishly dressed man would surrender his beautiful dark husken gaze.
"Too shy? Don't worry, I'll start us off. The midnight marauder, the voice of heaven boomin' and hell shiverin', the Mystical Mason, the Shameless Shipwright and stunning Scientist, the visionary----ZAPP BRANNIGAN! Once....upon a time, I was a servant to all of Gawd's people. I was a dutiful marine but in my last three years of' service [flashbacks of carpet bombing cities and misguided cannons] I realized my calling was more honest towards Piracy." Somehow he was already walking around like a judiciary general with all the weight on his shoulders to bring out the dramatic mask of a man who's seen war and nothing but war as he explained, followed by vehement passion! Not at all an excuse or uncanny habit of speaking about himself more times than he was referenced in a single titular post. "Exactly three nights ago I said, KINGLSEY! [kipf] The world is a frustrated little oyster and we just have to---ease 'er right, and make it ours. World domination, gentleman. And we'll make it sexy, like Flannigans law, our power will be delivert hard' n fast! We'll make them love us! World Domination over World Damnation, they clearly need new idols in the world--just my face is enough but why not have your piece of pies too?!" Quickly snapping his back to look up at the skies [a perfect moment now to shoot his back to shut him up] with deep ruminating eyes. "Yes...my visions and goals are so vague, that even Zapp has trouble understanding Zapp at times..." And he'd turn his dirty greasy little eyes to glimmer with glitter at the two who likely wanted him dead by now or just waiting.
"Go on, my little studs, tell Zapp what Zapp wants tah hear!~" Names, trade, goals, ---none of that mattered where Zapp was gonna take them in the future! Their lives were going to be made being in the same chapter as Zapp!
Str:20 II Spd: 95 II Acc: 55 + 5! II Int: 20 End: 50
Finally arriving at Baterilla the ginger haired man came to port. Hiding his row boat, Thaddeus would walk up the shore to the city. On his path he would find Nima standing alone walking in the same direction he was, approaching her he would say.
"What are you babbling on about? Come on, all this moving around made me hungry. And I bet you don't know how to cook anything besides brains."
Continuing his hands in his pockets Thaddeus would find himself downtown Baterilla. And to think Gol.D Rouge used this place as a hide out. This was the allure of south blue. It was wild and savage. All was permitted in the south, scanning the area Thaddeus could see he was getting some dirty looks from those who passed him. They would remember him from the whole Carmine Town rampage that happened a couple years back. Being the notorious pirate that he was it would only be a matter of time before his identity was leaked. Oh well, In search of grub Thaddeus managed to end up at some whole in the wall tavern. That's basically what his life consisted of jumping from one bar to the next with no real direction and no real accomplishments. But that was a pirates life, and the pirates life was for him.
Kicking in the door to the tavern Thaddeus would make a grand entrance, all heads turning to the tough guy and his long legged beauty. One after the other he would watch faces at the bar turn pale as the matched his face with his name.
"Barkeep, I need a hot meal..."
He would say turning his scowl toward the bartender. And just as he ordered the food was already being prepped for him. Looking around the tavern he was looking for any tough guy looking to make a name for themselves. Because just as always the freckle faced marksmen had a scheme up his sleeve.
"Who's the baddest of the bad up in this joint... Huh?! I'm looking for some guys to help me out with a bit of a landscaping project. The pay is anything you plunder, and you'll all get a chance to flex your muscles."
The veteran pirate would say. Propping one foot up like captain morgan, by this time Nima would probably discover that his was a dirty pirate, but the question would be would it matter? Gold was gold no matter who it came from. And Thaddeus just wouldn't know what to do if his sweetheart became upset with him.
▐「 COMPANY 」Thaddeusxxx▐「 WORDS 」628 xxx▐「 OOC 」xxx
Her peace interrupted by her newest and most mysterious companion a startled Nima jolted from the grass and turned her attention toward the fiery haired fiend. The narrowing of her sharp blue gaze would tell him that the mercenary didn't appreciate such direct orders, nor did she like his current tone. The whole brains thing wasn't her deal, at least she had been reanimated for a week or so now and hadn't felt the urge to console the brains of another living human. Still despite the rudeness and demands she found herself following Thaddeus regardless, they had already struck a deal after all and he hadn't managed to give her cold feet just yet. The tall corpse-like woman did her best to match pace with the much smaller human she was keeping company. Her long legs making her appear as if she was walking almost in slow motion trying to stay at an even pace with the man. Not really hungry herself it didn't stop her from joining the marksman at the nearest bar, they seemed quite the sight as the two of them entered the scene. All eyes fixating on them, although more-so on the fiery haired man than herself which was strange, normally people were taken aback by her willowy figure however they all seemed to grow pale at the sight of her fairly average human cohorts.
"Just who are you? I've never seen a merchant held with such distaste even if your lot can be snakes in the grass."
Nima asked the question however she did believe she already had the answer. His whole story if reflected upon was rather exaggerated and he had no goods on his ship that a merchant might carry, she noted that much during her time sailing with him. It was highly probable that piracy was Thaddeus' occupation of choice. Most mercenaries would've stabbed him in the back by this point, but Nima always liked to map out all her options. If she could make more money working with the man as opposed to capturing him than she might as well continue to work alongside the leech from the shadows. As long as she was never linked to a pirate she could retain her title of mercenary and collect on other pirates as well as get paid for any agreement Thaddeus and herself might cook up. "A pirate? And don't lie to me darling, or I'll cut your tallywhacker off." she whispered, or more-so hissed in his ear, yet there was no venom in her words. However she was clutching her katana rather jokingly while eyeing his nether regions, pretending to be quite serious about her earlier statement. That was if the pirate even understood what she had meant by tallywhacker, kind of an odd word really. Still she had made it quite clear thus far that she had no intentions on turning on him, or turning him in either. They were both business-folk after all, they understood the weight of coin and that was the only language Nima ever listened to. So long as the fiery haired man could keep her happy and pay her more than he was worth to sell out then he would never have a problem with the undead scoundrel. As she spoke to him she grabbed a glass and drink from behind the counter, attributed thanks to her long slender figure, pouring her own drink despite the baffled expression of the barkeep. She poured one for Thaddeus as well, a sign of good faith to show that no hard feelings were to be had, he was just lucky not to have exposed himself in front of the much less reasonable Cassius back at her own bar in Ridus the cesspool of all mercenary types.
Cpt Gucci Suit
Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2017 9:45 pm
"Ko tata te mate, Ko tata te mate," shifting slightly, eyes closed as he allowed his mind to focus; the sound of the minuscule waves crashing against ship wouldn't deter his path in the slightest as he continued forward in the sea, "tamaiti rere." He'd been travelling for what was, well, approximately half a day now; the lack of food was beginning to gnaw at not only his physical state but mental state. "Ko tata te mate." Thus he spoke lowly, feeding off the words the bubbled forth passed his lips as he pushed forward with hope. ". . . .Huna i te atarangi." Heaving a great sigh, long messy locks draped over his face, the man would look up, gazing at the bit of light that broke through his hair to the city before him. The sounds of the town reaching even him, out at sea. Such a sight, it immediately began to give life to what felt like a withering body; a smile slowly creeping on his face.
"Ko tata te mate! Ko tata te mate tamaiti rere!" Standing up in his boat, the roars of the man echoed forward towards the land, his beastly voice bringing forth the amount of vocal strength that an army of hundred, in peak condition, could only dream of producing. A chorus of encouragement, a declaration; the muscle bound creature would smack his chest, the slap hitting the ears of all those on the coast of Baterilla. "Ko tata te mate! Ko tata te mate tamiti rere!" Giving a bellowing laugh, his ship so close to the town that it true size could be now gauged as towering, eclipsing the much smaller ships as it stood over a length of one hundred feet long and over sixty feet wide; thus it was a testament to the size of the man who guided it as he leaped out from the boat, landing upon the sands of the beach. His body hunched over as his locks hung down sweeping the grains below. A bit of mist or fog would escape from his mouth as he exhaled, rising up to look at the city before him, the structures appearing more like over sized rocks in comparison to his physique, standing at thirty meters. "Kua te ra te. . ."
Crack; the sound of bones bending and breaking sang through the beach as a bombardment of sand and small rocks bombarded the city, along with the body of a sole man who was the main target of the dark-skinned behemoth. "Heh." Rearing his leg back, the giant would thrust his foot forward once more, kicking at the sand below him thus sending forth a mass of sand and debris towards the city of Baterilla.
Str:20 II Spd: 95 II Acc: 55 + 5! II Int: 20 End: 50
Stopping mid sentence Thaddeus was cut of by the transponder snail going off in the tavern. Listening to the emergency broadcast Thaddeus would remain motionless, while lesser thieves and cowards scurry out of the bar in large number. Looking toward those whom remained Thaddeus would speak.
"For those who dare, I'm going after that Pirate lord. "
Looking over toward his long legged girlfriend.
"His bounties got to be at least a cool Billion."
Watching the iris in Nima's eyes turn into dollar signs he's smirk. Readying his rifle before stepping out of the bar. As he stepped out he would be rocked by the quake from the giant's kick. Enraged and having no time for this he screamed!
"Hey you ******** a*****e cut the s**t, pick us and take me to my ship you damn giant!"
Thaddeus would wait, then be brought to his ship where he and his search party would depart.
Letting the Zapp hit the deck without remorse, Aiden kicked back on his own boat. Battling after such a long time quickly took its toll in the form of fatigue. Sighing, four limbs dressed in blackened school garb rose over the side of the lone man's boat. The sounds of cracking and popping scared off a few sailors within earshot, likening the sounds to injuries being inflicted.
Copying a certain Red Asian
But enough about that boring old explanation on cracking joints by a dude stuck in twelve hour shifts at the shop. Aiden was much more tired than that dude ever could be, and still fought something equally if not more annoying. Resting his undamaged hair over interlocked arms, the yankee looked toward the sky in reminiscence. He was much quicker in his youth, albeit less stylish to say the least. In those days his family had traveled from different places, keeping the children more or less in one spot while the adults looked for work. Those days when Lloyd grew into his familial ways had the town on its head.
There he was, looking down the room of his ship as thin, pale, sickly, vile looking woman laid bare in his bed. The only thing keeping her dignity from falling him his hands was a gray silk sheet found clenched in her hand. Held close by an arm while her other two where outstretched , a deep Red flush filled her face as she turned away-
Whoops... wrong character. Still, he seen pirate ship that had such a woman commanding it before she disappeared for a great deal of time, and with a rather bloated figure. It was one day that a young Lloyd would stumble across the sharp chinned man once more, this time tossing rocks at the ocean. The two things that made this man different from many others Lloyd had met in his life where: One, the fact he'd been standing in his favorite throwing these rocks, and two, said rocks never seemed to hit the water. Curious as any child would be, Lloyd moved in to investigate. "Hey, old man! Whadya think yet doin' in mah spot?" Standing before the suited man, the young Lloyd was determined to grab the man's attention. But he kept throwing rocks, paying the young imp no mind like some cheep whore asking a man with a freak of a wife if he wanted to see some action.
Perturbed beyond belief, Lloyd did the one thing that brought all males to their knees. With a quickness he'd shoot his foot up into the man's crotch. The next rick he threw would hit the water about ten feet away, sending a blast of water fifteen feet tall and ten feet wide to blast up from the impact. Looking down, the man noticed a small child rolling around beneath him, clinging to his leg as he whined.
Twenty minutes and an ice cream cone later Lloyd could be seen prancing behind the older gentlemen with his frozen treat. While the man had given it to him for compensation for hurting his leg, he didn't expect the boy to follow him the way he did.
"Kid, don't you have spot to stand, sit, or sleep in? Why are you following me?"
"Cause your tough mister! No one man has ever survived my special move: You're Already Dead Kick! I worked real hard on the name and everything, and still stood!!! That means your my master!"
"Kicking someone in the nuts ain't really a move... wait that's the name of the attack? Man oh man you do need some help, but a parent would do you better. Speaking of which where are your parents?"
Holding his head down, the young Lloyd at the time couldn't explain why he felt the way he did knowing his parents weren't around. Holding back his upset feelings with a pout would cause the ice around the suited man's heart to thaw out just enough to remind him of his own brood. Scooping up the boy he returned to the spot they'd originally met. There, he tested Lil Lloyd's form in order to make corrections if needed.
"Say, why are you so fixated of fighting? There are a lot of guys older than you that can do it better than you. What's the point?"
"Do I need one? I'm just a brawler, I wanna fight!"
Shaking his head the chiseled chinned members of the BloodSails would return time after time, entertained by the boy's recklessness. Even bringing him aboard "The Zealot" until the boy entered his room and the two of them where almost shot by a now slim, three armed, flat chested, mantis woman at her most vulnerable.
Back in the present Lloyd opened an eye as he noticed the port suddenly getting a bit more busy. A strange, cat eared woman crossed his view, causing him to stare for an abnormal amount of time before the bustling settled. He could hear something being kicked across the port, ending up as a mangled lawn chair in a pile of broken, splintered wood.
Who'd kicked it was a fishman. He'd never seen one before in real life, only knowing they where about ten times stronger than a normal human. Technically, he was too, but you didn't see him running though the streets alerting the the town. It made more sense to keep quiet about these things, blend in and I observe the environment.
But this monstrosity from the deep made his crustacean self known, asking a question mixed in tongue which Lloyd had trouble deciphering.
"Captain, if you wanna call him that, why not. I'm sure he'd enjoy hearing someone giving him some recognition. I sure as hell won't. Who kicked his a**? I did. Don't ask why, just except the fact that it happened."
He'd say pointing to the unconscious Zapp with the blood stained tip of his iron pipe. Apparently the sea born native pegged him for the first mate. Yet Lloyd in all honesty didn't see himself saying no.
"I guess you could call me that, I never join the guy. But he was pretty serious about in when I was laying into him a bit earlier. And you are?"
Before he could catch the fishman's name, Zapp awoke. Like a Phoenix from the ashes her was reborn with new energy. Apparently being put to sleep did great work on his reverence of yankee as he needed not introduce himself anymore than he already had. Going on and on about some incoherent dream he had, Zapp finally gave the floor to anyone that had something to say on their goals toward the future.
And yet even that was interrupted as stomps could be heard from the sea. A large shadow descended over the port before sand and debris flew toward the town.
"Who in the ********> was all that came out of Lloyd's mouth before a stray rock found its random course in line with his house. Running at top speed, he vaulted over the deck of the ship and sprinted toward the front door of his apartment. Using a clothesline from a neighbor be bounced into the air before intercepting the ground based projectile. Pipe in hand, he swung to his right in order to deflect the rock away from his abode, but the strength behind it was insane. The best he could do was veer its course to a nearby bar.
With his hide sent through the wall he looked over to his awoken kin. Each sporting a gaze that told him exactly what he needed to do.
"Alright then, y'all ho stay with Aunt Jemyma till I come back, and don't cause her no grief ya hear!"
A few minutes later he appeared before the flamboyant captain once more, pipe over his shoulder as he pointed straight toward the blonde.
"You wanted a hot blooded combatant known for being reckless, you got him! He's known for breaking walls and carving his own path! The magma in his heart is stoked by a mighty flame! So I have just one question for you, just who the hell do you think I am!
▐「 COMPANY 」Thaddeusxxx▐「 WORDS 」736 xxx▐「 OOC 」Exitxxx
As she continued to eye the shady man sitting across from her she wasn't able to get any of the answers she wished for. Although she could pretty much chop it up to herself being correct in the matter. Nima would have to do some digging on Thaddeus Boone and come to a solid conclusion on who he was and what he wanted. A pirate occupation was almost undeniable but still, she had no plans to betray the man paying her. Before Nima was able to get any real answers from the man they were interrupted by a flurry of new sensations and news. It seemed as a channel took over the radio station within the bar they were currently inhabiting a massive earthquake was shaking the seaside location to its core. The movement of the earth and crashing of debris outdoors added to the information of paramount import that was currently flashing over all the radio stations worldwide, surprisingly not just exclusive to the marine corps as one might've imagined given the weight of the announcement and the danger it posed to the blues as a whole.
"Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!! He's here! I don't know why! But he's here! One of the Kings! Maddoneko! P-Please someone stop him!"
Only a fool wouldn't know who the great bakeneko was, the beast cat of the seas seemingly venturing away from the new world and grand line just to pay them a visit in the blues. Maddoneko was one of the four warlords of the sea and taking him down was the dream of just about every sea-fairer alive, just as much as facing him would be their nightmare. The marines would want him locked away or killed for his countless crimes and the immense danger he posed, the mercenaries would want to capture him and turn him over for the absolute insane payload they would acquire for his hefty bounty, and the pirates would want him out of the way so a new player could take his throne. With this news publicized it would undeniably draw a lot of attention to Torino and although it would mean a lot of heat Nima too was not about to pass this chance up. "Trust me dear, I know how much his head is worth, dead or alive." she explained coolly trying to hide the glimmer in her eye as the two of them grabbed their things rather hastily. Nima even managing to sneak out the door without paying for her half full drink due to the overall hysteria the barkeep and company were currently in. Having an assault on the beach coupled with the news of Maddoneko's arrival was likely to stir up a south side panic. The ghoul took full advantage of this as she left through the front entrance and found the sky cascaded with sand and stone, it rained down from the direction of the shore.
Nima was half tempted to investigate, it could've been a pirate's assault on the city using the cover of Maddoneko's arrival to claim some riches and get away with it due to the bigger name likely drawing all attention to himself. She could make out the titanic silhouette of a man, or monster at the beach shore herself, but she made no move toward it. She didn't know of any colossal pirates like that and she was no marine trying to maintain law and order, saving lives and the likes weren't part of her occupation. Instead she snaked away from both Thaddeus and the giant for the time being heading to her own little dingy tied at the far end of the beach thankfully away from the havoc of the huge threat of the giant man. She hadn't told Thaddeus that they would be splitting up however she assumed he would understand that they had the same destination and would see one another again shortly. Torino was where many would be going in the next short while, luckily she knew of the islands whereabouts having traveled there once or twice before this dangerous voyage. She could feel her blood boiling, the excitement of the upcoming ordeal really getting her adrenaline pumping, that or it was just her fruit acting up. Still she didn't want to waste any more time in reaching her destination, she had to beat the majority there so she could have a believable claim on the spoils to follow.
'Baby, you understand me now? If sometimes you see that I'm mad Don't you know, no one alive can always be an angel? Whenever everything goes wrong, you see some bad.'
He could taste it, swirling and swimming within his mouth like the everlasting kiss of petite bubbled fizz, the molasses hued cola guzzling down the ribbed throat to sink into the melodic churns of the stomach. It was...almost heavenly sweet, the scent of and moment of time where everything stood still within the chaotic and melancholy world before it would resume in its original hum-drum of existing. Warmth spilled from the billowing caspian cut of the sea salted cotton, flipping with ferocity as the swelling and falling layers of air would catch a hint of swift. Ahh... tangerine dreams or something much more, a night of sultry Santa Esmeralda over the flickering amber flames while swirled like a bun sprinkled with cinnamon and a hint of icing within the tickling furs of grizzle and silken ursinae. Droplets of glistening garnets poured straight from the neck of a decanter as it rippled within the blown circumference of sparkling gems of glass, the pool of honeyed nectar ruby quivering as it would be moved by the plush lips of creole. The once glistening waters now funneling to become rapids that would fill a stomach neglected by the fineness in life, its savage wounds holed up within its own shadows. 'Footfalls echo in the memory down the passage which we did not take-- are you listening Sanité?' A light huff given within the day dream that would carry the youth down the stairs made of plush sands, captivating him within the white capped horizon that stole the attention of the world from his eyes and made them it's own. Peach speckles revealed on the cusp of pronounced cheekbones as the auburn hair would whisper through the breeze and shuffle to hide the spot of rare vulnerability. '...towards the door we never opened into the rose-garden. You know what that means?' Whatever it would have meant years ago within the nook of a chestnut library and the crackling hearth, it was lost and gone within his mind like the essence of a drop of pitch colored ink that was quickly diluted within the glass of water before it could have a chance to say it's name. Faded like the carvings on the shell he bore, the mourning dove swirl glinting like a medieval dagger in the blinding, pale daffodil sunlight and brilliant showcase. Faded like the face of the man who would speak, the only detail dully remembered would be the spine crumbling crooked smile bore amongst the gradient of stubble.
And yet despite it all, a ravenous shiver would coil around his vertebrae and refuse to let go as it would hiss and scamper from the toasting bubbly of the pouring sunlight. Trembling slightly as the words falling from the pursed lips of the unknown ventor with the gleaming pipe would cease as their conversation would bow its head to the multi beaded man, the slim accessories clacking as he would quickly make a move to scratch the back of his head. Deep honey strands waving a charming greeting to the necklaces made of polished bone and lacquered wood pieces carved a time ago when the streets would be less inhabited. A quick rise and fall of the hooded lid and slim brow before he would clear the taste of stale pinot and crumbled walnuts out of his throat, the sharp tongue flicking within the mouth at a molar who would keep its hold on a skin of chewed grape. Bitten during a night that would seem to never end, only the beaming call of dawn would tuck it's rival's owls into solace once more. Wel' aye ask'd buh tha don' mean I releh care wha youse been fightin' bout-- much les' tha victor. Nawght mah a** nawght mah probl'm. Drink tha blood an' les' see where yer piss gits us, eh? But the quiet, muttered thought would never escape through the squirming lips that were raised as if they were disgusted, the slim neck bending as he would nod once in understanding before calmly grasping an oblong piece of rubbish and flicking his wrist to have it echo across the waves in a series of slimline bounces before it would bubble into the unseen abyss. The flicker of mention about the topic and call of the illusory first mate, blinking softly in a series of patterns as the ownership would be held weakly by the youth whose hand bore the usually macabre dripping bat. Mmn...a firebran'. Nawght likleh. His lips pursing before sighing with the natural sweet scent of cream and caramel, the fragrance melting his concerns and thoughts all into one relaxing exhale. Dusken lashes fluttering with the swiftness of a pick plucking clear strings of a ripen, sunburnt orange guitarra as the deep forest hazels would glance upward at the mention of his given government name.
But paradise itself would pause with the lax movements of a pour of whip within a shot of molten espresso, the elegance and sophistication severed by the form that would arise from the shadows and trenches of forcible slumber. Rarely did the harsh tongued man ever widen his eyes and yet this maniacal soapbox orator would cause them to be so, forcing them into the blanched gloves so they could be squeezed and ripped raw to perceive all that was to be welcomed. All that was to be...understood. Leaning back onto the burgundy shaded wrist, he would take in the flittering body of the soul who would look more like a helpless, crazed moth than an actual commander-- the lax of the tongue and the heart of the words impacting him with the title of star crossed, a fate and date with a little honey named Death Cadaverous. But...even if the skinny bodied loon would be shouting his essence into the cerulean tinted sky, the fishman would begin to wonder. ....Even af'ta alllllll thus carr'in on an' alll tha'-- even af'ta thus chump change ova sign, pepple lookin' ovah tha mos' blatan' detail. Thus fool is still alive. A surprised pluck of an eyebrow would shoot upwards as the title of second quarter master would be granted, an inner thought quickly calmed and soothed right after. The thought of his life's end so tattered and torn that the bearer would let the banner of his essence rip from his hold to let fate decide where he should end up. Both of the hermit's hands would conjoin and commingle to meet as one within the union of flesh, his lips mumbling with the softness and velvet of a rose-hip petal as the beads would be gripped and kissed lightly. Mistah Alleis'er, I's think I's be cumin' soon if aye falla thus......idiot buh I's guss ther' an' no harm in tryn', mm?
It was almost cinematic how he would rise, the fire ridden hair hue flowing wildly within the oncoming breeze of the disturbed waters and the projectile of the petite grains of minerals would cover the sky like a net, his expression cooling into a firm taste of sureness and mild acceptance. Eyeing the human missile racing off towards the inland, he would feel his body do the exact opposite and run towards the dancing fool dressed in distasteful go-go boots that gleamed enough to make the street rat feel unnerved. His experience with the shine of tinkling bullets would drill into his mind as he would grip the commander by the wrist and twirl him into his chest, dipping the glittering, bright butterscotch tressed fatale in a graceful duet as their faces would be concealed by the free spirited curled, auburn strands. The pellets of sand colliding with the curve of the shell and yet the brackish mass would become the consistency of slop as it would drop onto the sun dried planks of splintered wood, the claw holding the small of the back tight as his other hand would come to shield the sparkling and adventure lust eyes from the chips of slate and gravel as the oblong masses of earth would be hurled through the air over top of them. "A messeh day, issunt it, Mistah Flannigun?" A quick snap of the wrist and the smaller man would be twirled like a taffy dancer and stopped on a dime as the navigator who would smell like a thousand spices would bow, the scent of vanilla and toasted coconut billowing from his form. Raising up like an ignited roman candle, he would extend his hand slowly and grasp the other as he would shake his head with disapproval at the surrounding commotion. "And is' gotta hapin' when a man's gotta headache. Wells, less jus' keep intraductions short. Name's Sanité Aristide Bouchard-Buchanan, yer first mate. But I's like to be called Wynn, yeh Cappin'?" The curled haired rabble-rouser would quickly return just as the question would form out of his mouth, the pale peach shells of the ear perking to listen carefully of every spoken syllable that seemed to bleed with the seriousness that seemed to envelope the world spinning around the trio in that moment in time. The seal of a newly formed crew burned into existence and survival as their drops of iron infused lifeblood would be poured into the crashing waters around them, the current carrying their new found acknowledgement as the blade of piracy would be branded and cut deep within them. A wide and charming crooked smile pulling up on the sun kissed cheeks, a bubble of a hoarse chuckle forming. "Wher' to Cappin'?"
'Chips fall wherever they may, leave it all behind, let the ocean wash away.'
(Sometimes I just write too damn much at 5am in the morning, but it'll get shorter later on.) ZAPPARATUS! Cornier than kettle! This sentence was going to be long; Here was this man with a lottery winning smile, grace curving perfect unblemished features and teeth porcelain and perfect. If there were holes in this man, then well, he could easily raise glove hands to point at the sky to say the same. Instead he humbled himself to allow others to join in his dream. Like these two! Dark espresso eyes following the one with the ZZZZZZING glinting off the metal bat still coming in second to those beastly looking eyes. Wiping some bit of blood off of himself with a handkerchief from the bruising he received. [pure beauty bruises easily] "Ho-ho." A piece of him wondering if he'd ever seen such a howling expression before. No, maybe not him. Not the tall mawkish boy he might have seen with the dirty clothes and soles made even dirtier by sitting on a pile of the rest of them. Who even knows? His memories of the past were but a flicker these days compared to visions of ahead! Somewhere he'd feel a rumble. A speck of dust threatening to cause the beautifully battered face to issue a sneeze-- Blonde Excellence would wait with the everlasting dashing visage of Flannigan's handsome lineage add shine to his already beautiful features.
Above them a nest of sandy maelstrom skittering into crumbling ruins. A man dead and limp flying over them from the throw of a giant--or it could have been a bird, who knows! Back to the main subject of beauty! In sincerity the man's skin was more radiant than that of a perfect peach in before the smooth oval nostrils would.. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUHHHHH!!!!!" O-Oh...looks like it wasn't a bird after all. Right at the cusp of hearing his crewmen's introduction, all hell broke loose. A man [other than Zapp who might have in this moment] let out a shriek far beyond a shrill harpies from seeing the walking giant moving toward them. Fast wind, slow wind, his gaze caught the sight of chunks flying down. Cream mask of shock gone unseen as two things cut his sight all at once. The first was feeling. Feeling his dainty wrist being held then pulled and the dance of Fandango was a swirl like the shell of one man's topsy turvy. A jolt and the slim throat held in a trembling cry until he saw it. Streams of red. A silken wave of curly flowing amber swimming sparkling close. Scrunching his eyes with thoughts of being alone and punching in the dark glove box with demons that start rummaging. Dark lashes stirring only to hear the tremble of war settle down to a statement. Schik-schik-schik-shk-shk-shh-shhhuuuuuhhh.... Dirt danced off them with a spicy aftertaste. The rising super would look up to the nice smelling man like a star crossed starlette with admiration swelling in his heart harder than cannon drums. Statistics say that danger brought out creatures of the same kind. Like fireworks in a fishbowl, claw and fin. What of this moment instead of propelling oneself away from safety, did it call for one Mr. Sanité Aristide Bouchard-Buchanan, to risk his neck for a flopsy fruit he barely even knew? Ahh, not even Kipf would go that far.
He said to keep introductions short but what came from his mouth was a mouthful. He'd stumble a bit before standing straight after he was saved. Especially the face from being marred any further. Curious as he'd watch the moderately shorter man [on account of his boots raising him a generous two inches with insoles] declare his intentions. "An awfully good day to die as any, no?" A scry scrunch of his face but his smile remained unperturbed, staring dead eyed at the man with the bone necklaces. Now this was a man who knew what he wanted. KLANG! He'd note the sound of a berserker batman swat off the other chunk. A few more rounds and maybe he'd arise as the Sultan of Swat himself. This was fate in the telling! He ignored the pain of his wounds and stood tall, for at least a good captain can always fake the part about pain! Eyes quickly darting back to the scarlet haired man.
Point in cue, whoever this beautiful b*****d was--oh no! He already said his name, Sanite' Bouchybou? --he saved Zapp! And that was how to get Zapp to remember his names. Soft rings of light swirling in the deep eyes hearing the simply sweet name. I like that. The moment would swim by but before the warm Indian current would end the man would note how quick Mister. Bouchard-Buchanan was at the quip of title. Immediately understanding authority---yes! "Like Wynn'N battles~ Or like that winning smile you got on there, yeah you!" The secret spill of a southerner's accent he'd curl a goofy smile split with a tongue and chuckle with a hint of raspberry's rasp. "Hooooo.....Alright then, Weeehn." Hearing the bruiser speak his truth, he'd twist his gogo boots and move past Sanite in a white tail stride. Golden princely waves dancing as he might press forward to the direction of the docks. Only to be stopped by the sound of rubble and the crunching roar of a man cindered to be here; asking who the hell he was. Petite boots would still and he'd chuckle. Zapp looked at him with a brimming tenacity. Now I remember. You're the kid from the creek. A twinkle in his eye before it would vanish and he'd suddenly clap his hands up in the air before doing a spin and then a polite snap of his legs scaffolding up into a sharp hold. Bent primadonna toes facing down in his bend and he'd look at him over his dab form of his arms. The answer to his question? "Someone I'll have to remember." Snap, kick, twirl, trot and walk. He strutted forward likely leaving the man with twisted anger for giving him such a blow. But that was life, men were born to exchange blow for blow and if this was all it took to ignite him for the waters to easily chill, then he had no place aboard his ship. So said Papa Flannigan, to test the real temperament of men.
Now, now was a time for thinking. Colded blooded so he rocked mittens so they won't find him. Finger tapping the base of his nose while the palm curled to mask the rest of his face. Chaos bringing his thoughts to a singular pendulum, honing into the next best idea he had as he walked with Mistah Aristide Bouchard-Buchanan coming along. He was the cowboy on his own trip. Saddle riding Rodeo twisting sawsbuck with spurs whirring into a merry go. And then it finally hit him while the rest of the world was in mayhem. Raising a finger in the air. Pointing at the possible answer! "There's a mighty fine ruckus going on here, Gentlemen. Look at this mayhem and chaos, this is exactly, EXXXX-AAAAAACTLY---Why we must come into the world as one collective unit---Under my Supreme Dominating Symbol. ....To show them how to do it all with style~!" Marching coming to a sharp stop, his hands on the curve of his shapely hips for the uniform he brought on accentuated both male and female features. A kiss to the designer heart And anyway now that the breast was bereft of all the medals they tore off of him his arm jammed straight into it to proclaim what needed to be done with astounding vision brimming in both orbs. "You asked me, First Mate Weehn, what must be done--well I'll tell you! To plunder, one must be able to hoard, and boys~ Can we HOARD!" An accidental stumble and he'd almost have fallen off the port but instead his palm had slapped onto the board of a newly arrived vessel. Crafted in his name and of his design, now fully shipped and docked as per the orders request. Now leaning on it, he played it off and played it off sexy. Casual and cool, he'd smile that swarmy knowing smirk and tap on the ship.
Flashing his faux smile quicker than a flick of the wrist. "How do you like 'em? The Peeking Prude. I'd like to think of him as my first after nine months of carryin--all them supplies! Hahahahahaahhahahahahahahahahhaha---Anyways. Built like a steakhouse but handles like a bistro~" Whatever that meant only Zapp would understand. As with the name and all of his final designs.
Now he would knock on it a few times until magic would proclaim--the stepway onto the main board. It was a ship that originally belonged to some other scallywag but somehow landed just right in the market for sale. With some of his own careful modifications it could prove to be the right vessel yet. The flag not yet raised but soon will be revealed. Pulling the rope for the flag to descend, revealing it's unworldly mark upon the ravaged world from its skirts. Winking to them both, and twice at Aiden simply because he felt he needed to learn from a charming dandy such as himself. "Now c'mon, while all of South is in a riot, we're gonna get ourselves the best seat in the house! Ain't no wait times in resta'raunts nao! Even a mind so great as mine can't deliver on an empty jowl!
Weeehn! Go 'head and figure out why this com'passe keeps pointing in one direction! Set the coordinates to Torino Kingdom! That's where everything is happening so clearly our importance will be recognized if we go!
What's your name, Batsy? I wanna say Ashton? Strong feller like you looks like you can heave some of the scattered sandbags. Come on fellas, let's be quick about it!" And off they go. While he'd go to the cabins to prim himself up some from feeling a cut in his lips. Those were deadly and must be cared greatly for he knew he could blow the world with but single burning words. "Oh and one rule only; Flannigans Law!" Zoom.
XV_Xarso_XV
Eavoan Stasera
Suijin Kami
Posted: Fri Feb 24, 2017 4:34 am
Zapp led his fine newly recruited corsairs off to head for grand adventure and some sexy plundering! [heads to torino kingdom event]
It was all turned to ash right in front of him. Nothing but destruction littered the land and he, a single man left with that burning visage in his mind, couldn't stand to bare it any longer. The world was spinning on its axis in a way he'd never thought possible and all his thoughts prior about Piracy came running to the surface. At the least he was able to get back to his crew and get out before that giant explosion took what was left of Torino in an almighty display of power. Something like this couldn't be forgiven, ever. Laying against a far off tree, the usually enthused swordsmen had no words to spare for those around him. Kaito, Tahira, Guin, he said nothing and his outfit had been completely discarded. Now, he wore only a shirt, pants, and some plain shoes to match. Hair flowing down his back, eyes auburn, he shifted momentarily to look up to the sky. So peaceful. . How much of a lie it all was. ". . Is that what we'll become. .?" He asked to Kaito, loud enough so he could hear as he sat there, not moving but waiting still. "If we get stronger, will we become become pirates like him? Will we kill innocent people all for the sake of some stupid dream? Will we destroy homes and kill loved ones all because we have the power to do it?!"
You could hear the anger in his voice and the wild mix of emotions that flared with each passing moment. He needed answers and it didn't seem like he could get them from anyone."Kaito. . What will you do if you become Pirate King? What is your Will?" Slowly he sat up, staring at his captain and waiting. If he couldn't find the answers in himself maybe he could find them within another.
The very pit of his soul was almost broken, shatter into broken dreams. Nothing of course he couldn’t paste together with the help of his comrades. This experience with these power houses. Kaito was not ready for the big leagues and he knew it. That didn’t mean he would falter. That only drove his passion even further. He had a gauge of where he needed to be and there was nothing that was stopping him from getting there. So much had to be accomplished. Talking a big game was one thing. Backing it up was a who different matter entirely. Kaito had the bark. The will, the desire to push himself forward to. To achieve his ambitions. This was his base, the foundation of his fortitude. However, that was not enough. Apparent now more than ever. No matter how much you wanted a fortress to fall. You needed the power to bring it down. Two pieces were required for the completion of this puzzle. Through his own ingenuity, he will get there. No doubt about it.
“Is that what we’ll become..”
The voice of Johnny broke the captain from his trance. Kaito’s leg dangled off the cliff he was resting upon fingers were intertwined behind his head. This all changed when his attention was required.Eyes would pry open and he would see the swordsman. Expression full of animosity, displeasure. Kaito felt that the fury was not directed towards him, was it? Although, he could not help but feel a certain resentment about it. Thus, he let his mate rant, a single word was not released until it was his moment. Letting Johnny’s words digest Kaito would utter the words. “Like him…?” With a quick adjustment forward take a dive towards the ground below. Hands in his pocket as he landed in front of his friend. Lavish moon eyes would stare through the tented shades of the sky warrior. Pondering, gathering his thoughts on what was just asked of him. His will.
“You’re asking me this like you don’t know who I am.” Iris flickered with flame as he voice began to boom. “All my life I have had everything taken away from me! My family! My friends! All because I lacked the power to stop them! I was weak!” Nostrils flared with frustration as his thumb pounded against his chest. “I was the subject to somebody else’s will my entire life! Fought for my life every day for another’s amusement. Killed my brothers!” Kaito caught himself as his voice was swelling with emotion. Kaito knew that Johnny did not mean what he was asking. Nonetheless, it was still a very touchy topic and it hit the brawler a certain way. Had he ever displayed characteristics like that Mad Cat?
To accuse him of being like Dekura? It rattled him. Brought him to a place he never wanted to be. A deep breath was taken as he calmed himself. No need to chastise a brother. “No.” Kaito would reveal bluntly as his back would take refuge against a trunk of a tree. “Never will I be like him. My goal is to reach the ultimate freedom. There is no one above the king so there is no one else to decide my fate but me.” Shadows from his bangs would overcast his face as his expression softened. Calmer. “All my life I have suffered, I will never wish that upon anyone. That would be the abuse of the power I want to obtain.” That was his answer. Kaito did not have any ambitions other than being his own man. With no one to tell him who he had to be anymore. That was his desire for the throne.
𝙿𝙾𝚆 145 ｌ 𝚂𝙿𝙳 110 ｌ 𝙴𝙽𝙳 110 ｌ 𝙰𝙲𝙲 5 ｌ 𝙸𝙽𝚃 5 l 𝙳𝙴𝚇 60 l 𝚂𝙿𝙸40 l 𝙷𝙿360/360
