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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 6 2009, 07:00 PM (1,696 Views) | ||||||||
| thingymabob | Oct 1 2009, 06:00 PM Post #16 | |||||||
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Stande made good progress up the hill, towards the site of the cannon. He had been under the impression that he had been hiding himself quite well, but it seemed that the foliage of the trees wasn't enough to hide his presence from the cannonmaster. There was a loud 'bang', to which Stande reacted instinctively and stopped, gaze shooting towards the cannon. It was pointed in his general direction, and he could see the cannonball fast approaching. With nary but a fraction of a second to react, the marine's incredible reflexes came into play, whipping out his revolver and firing it sharply at the oncoming cannonball. There was an explosion, which knocked the lieutenant back a few metres, sending him tumbling. He struggled to his feet, face with small scrapes and cuts on it. Cursing the cannonmaster under his breath, the marine took some time to re-evaluate his situation. He had underestimated this enemy (the idea that he had overestimated his own abilities was impossible). If he had not seen the cannonball, he would have been injured much more severely. What a blessing it was that cannons could not be fired quietly. He had to find another way of approaching the summit of the hill. But as a single man against a cannon, that would be difficult. He needed a decoy. Where was the gorilla when you needed him? Stande turned, making sure that he was hidden from view of the man atop the hill by a tree, and searched through the woodlands for the village idiot. He found him, standing on top of the old man's shack, purple mane flapping in the wind like a beacon saying "HIT ME!!!" Stande did hope that he wouldn't get hit by a cannonball. Then he would be unable to serve his purpose as a decoy. The marine aimed carefully at Lucius, shooting a few times to get his attention, missing the posing man on the roof by a good foot. He had to get the ape's attention so he could get the primate to scamper along and take up the cannonmaster's attention. Why hadn't the idiot tried to follow him? |
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| ♠ Shamma | Oct 5 2009, 03:02 PM Post #17 | |||||||
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Standing on top of the shack, Lucius' shrewd imagination came into play as he envisioned himself as a mighty warrior standing upon a hill in a battlefield; the hill changing to a pile of defeated criminals on a pleasing whim. The explosions of the cannon suited the daydream scenario, as did the proud stance he took, spreading his feet and planting both hands on his hips; the boxer's chest puffing out as he allowed a magnificent grin to swallow his expression whole. Of course, it was a shack not a pile of fallen foes. The plain before him was quite barren, lacking any clashing armies. And Lucius himself had never fought in a war, devoiding him of the title 'Mighty Warrior'. That and the cannon had apparently blown the pirate to smithereens, his blue eyes narrowing as they keenly scanned the smokey point of interest along the rim of the trees. Only from his elevated position did Lucius quite realise the oddity of the shacks location, something Stande had worked out long before. -- Direct hit. The artist clapped his delicate hands together, brush in mouth as he noised his approval. So his painting was purged of a detail that was so hard to draw... since birth he had always struggled to draw people; the anatomy, the colours, the texture... oh so difficult too pull off. The inanimate was easier, especially buildings. But... the artist flinched as his vein and sweat pattern redoubled. A purple haired individual sat upon the focus of his art piece, such a position that caused a dilemma. Shooting the building would potentially alter his desired title of 'The Shack' to 'The Crater'. But he had nailed that other art critic with a cannonball, why not this one? A sneering laughter later and the figure on the hill had opened his cannon and plopped another ball into its chamber. With a tug of the rope, he fired again, aiming for the interferer. -- Small silence breakers on the battlefield, Lucius noticed them but it was not the cannon. His reactions were certainly not rapid, the zipping bullets taking moments to be registered and determined as not a threat as he emerged from the daydream. But their source? He narrowed his eyes again, this time shielding his eyes from the bleak light of the sun towards the 'smokey point of interest'. A figure? The pirate! The magnificent grin lost its jaw as Lucius was practically stunned by the man's resilience. To take a cannonball to the chest and survive...! A feat worthy of him, a true man despite all his short comings of being a vile criminal. That man deserved a handshake, if only he wasn't shooting at him. The jaw slammed shut, Lucius fuming that he had decided to break truce so early. He supposed he was a pirate though, a pirate needed all the tricks to overcome a marine, even if said pirate could apparently take a cannonball and remain standing. Lucius curled his fist and looked at it; he could punch harder, surely? Forgetting the main threat on the hill, Lucius leaped down, his descent marked by a familiar loud bang. Not the black coated man's pistol but instead the cannon, the shot being equally unimpressive as all the others, barring the one that had nearly ended Stande. Except, by being unimpressive it was actually close to being on target, Lucius moving irrationally towards the point of impact with his jump. The small hut shuddered as the ground burst next to it, the projectile creating quite a shock-wave that sent Lucius rolling for the second time in recent events. Sliding to a halt in a similarly graceless fashion; this time on his back, his mind barrel rolled in the small space of his head till some form of thought materialized. It hurt. "Yeowch!" Lucius bellowed, rolling on his back from side to side as if he were on fire. His back hurt the most, so rolling around on an uneven surface simply worsened the feeling till he leaped to his feet. His features paused, brain moving on from the pain to the moment at hand. "Punch black-coat-truce-breaker." He muttered, looking over to the hill. "Stop cannon." He added, completing the list of objectives. The figure on the hill was moving again, Lucius had witnessed the firing patterns of their attacker enough to know what was coming. Unwittingly he ran in zigzag manner towards the hill, providing quite the distraction without being aware he was perhaps helping resolve the issue. In an indirect manner, anyway. |
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Piper • Pirate • Martial Artist/Weapon Specialist • Hot Rockets • Bounty: 343,000,000 • SD Earned: 881 • Beli: 259,500,000 • Location: Raijin Island Jija Juju • Marine • Inventor/Marksman/Scholar/Doctor • Fiore • Rank: Rear Admiral • SD Earned: 579 • Beli: 188,000,000 • Location: Couture Island, Grand Line Other Characters
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| thingymabob | Oct 8 2009, 09:29 PM Post #18 | |||||||
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The gorilla noticed the bullets that whizzed past him. Whether it was due to sort of sensory awareness of his surroundings, or by pure dumb luck, Stande was seriously considering rewarding him with a banana peel. He hadn't quite worked hard enough to deserve the full banana yet. Stande glanced sharply at the hilltop when yet another cannonball was fired, laying waste to the ground just next to the run-down shack. It was a wonder that little hut remained standing, considering all the abuse it was put through every time a cannonball exploded around it. And even in the past fifteen minutes, there had been a myriad of explosions. The old man was probably quaking in fear. However, the mental state of the delirious old man was completely immaterial to the black-hearted Marine. The old man had been completely useless in providing information, and that gained him no sympathy from Stande. People who served no purpose did not deserve to be acknowledged. The Neanderthal raised a fist in anger and shook it in Stande's general direction, but since it did not seem likely that his underdeveloped brain had managed to connect the dots and put 'Stande' with 'bullets fired', he didn't pay the purple-haired monkey much attention. However, in his apparently drunken stupor, the lesser mammal began to run towards him, or was he running towards the hill? It was difficult to tell since he was meandering his way around, not travelling in any obvious direction. Stande glanced up at the madman on the hill. The man in the funny hat seemed to be focused on Lucius, and was brandishing what looked like a small stick in the air, waving it around as he appeared to trace something out in the air as he watched the ducking, weaving gorilla. The Marine Lieutenant took the chance. Their attacker's attention had moved, which meant he obviously believed that he had already eliminated Stande. It was amazing how simpleton criminals could underestimate their enemies so easily. It was just another piece of evidence to support Stande's claim that all lawbreakers were impossibly unintelligent. It thus followed that the purple-maned fool was also an outlaw of some description. However, the fate of the buffoon could wait until later; it would be prudent to deal with the much more immediate threat of the cannonmaster at the top of the hill. Stande made his way up the hill once more, taking advantage of the cover that Lucius was providing to make his way around and up the back of the hill. The man up the top seemed fairly certain that the previous cannonball had ended his life, but one could never be too careful, and just to be safe, Stande approached from the rear end, knowing that it was unlikely that the pirate at the top would notice his ascent from behind. Reaching the summit just as the artist was about to load another cannonball into his weapon of destruction, Stande waited. He waited until the man had lit the fuse and the cannon had fired at Lucius once more before making his presence known. "I think it is time for you to turn yourself in." |
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| ♠ Shamma | Oct 10 2009, 07:14 AM Post #19 | |||||||
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Evading a persistent barrage of spherical death was no easy task. Especially considering the man with the flowing purple mane was not the most nimble nor agile of people. Adding in the factor that he was caught in two minds; one desiring to run up the hill and stop the cannon fire, the other wishing to find what he assumed was the turncoat truce-beaker and punch his lights out. And yet Lucius' display of sheer luck and movements resembling rough imitations of acrobatics was something to be marvelled at by a master, if it were intentional. His bumbling, almost swaying, running nature was set off in a new direction after every near miss, whether he was fully blown off of his feet by a shock wave or simply hindered in his footing. On one occasion, he was so lost for direction that he found himself heading back towards the shack till a stumble sent him back on track. The shack itself was a standing miracle; literally. The supports held on despite the hellish nature of its surroundings, an omen to the old man's handiwork, it kept him safe unless he had indeed suffered too much from the stress and died deep within his fortress by a heart attack. His well being was not on the marine's mind. Lucius still had not figured out the existence of the home dweller, his brain connecting dots slowly had come to the conclusion that the trio...no, one was a cannon, duo on the hill lived inside the small living space. Why else had they not blown it up? It was a shame allies could not be trusted. The boxer pondered on this as he earned a moments rest after a particularly lousy cannon shot. His body stuttered to a halt with all its cuts and bruises on display. Even the glorified marine vest was showing signs of fatigue, its former pure white glory was smudged and darkened by tumbling in the dirt. Even if his ally was a pirate, he had expected better. Maybe that was the true reason behind his failure to make a handshake? The guilt would have crushed him. Lucius had an epiphany, what a fool he had been to not realise this obvious betrayal? Now he was doomed to a lifetime of stumbling in explosions till his body gave out. The ground burst quite close, flinging Lucius up into the air theatrically. The boxer no longer bellowing. He just gritted his teeth and waited for the descent. With a thump, he landed square on his back, limbs flat out in a star position. That was it. Too much pain. Too little energy. He needed a nap. He needed a nap and a bath. A full course dinner would be nice too, he couldn't remember eating anything on the long gone turtle ship. Curiously, the next shot didn't occur. Instead there was an eerie silence across the area. "I've read about this..." He murmured out loud, recalling a simple book he had managed to read once, a long time ago... or had someone read it to him? He couldn't remember. The last few seconds before death, a tranquil period where he could say his goodbyes, or maybe he was already dead, the last cannonball had been too much? No, he was better then that. Those last few moments were when a man showed his true colours. Yes! It was his time. Renewed strength flowed through his pained body, the marine making his last stand as he faced the hill one last time, shoulders square to the bringer of his doom. It was curious that he could not see the cannonball that would bring about his end, perhaps his body had already predicted it. Lucius liked to think he was partially psychic. Arms rippling for the last time, they crossed, fingers fastening around the edges of his battered marine shirt. His upper body curled forward slightly as he drew in breathe, one last deep breath to preparing for his final glorious moment. It was time. "Ssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrttttttttttttt...!" His curled form began to expand, head slowly raising as he prepared to look death in the face with a mighty howl. His fingers began to pull, his feet spreading slightly to lower his stance. His words continued. "...Tttttttttttteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" His thick arms bulged, all their strength reserves being used in this final enactment. A true example of what his life stood for, everything he held in high regard would be expressed in this single moment. Something he could pass into the next world with. Something that would mask the embarrassment of death with all consuming - "PPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Each button on the shirt pinged as the fabric was torn in two by a mighty pull from either direction, Lucius' back fully arching backwards to push forth his muscular chest, exposing it to the world in the greatest of manners. His voice roared loud and clear, a cry to every citizen on the ocean, the final shout of a dying warrior. A man who was destined to die early on his travels as a symbol to all future marines. They would speak of him. The man who faced death with a naked chest and virtuous roar! --- The loud cry was muffled by the higher altitude as the pair on the hill went about their business. The throbbing vein of anger had disappeared from the artists forehead as he turned slightly to see the black coat Marine who he had believed to have perished. It was a shocking revelation. Not many survived a cannonball. And that shot had been a true reflection of his arts, a one in a million, on target and deadly. But not enough. "...Impossibleu..." He muttered, blinking twice to make sure his inspiration juices had not progressed to the level of hallucination. This man was real, he spoke, he spoke of turning himself in... he would not go back. Art was not meant to be caged in a cell, but free for the world to enjoy. His response was simple. "Non!" The hand holding the paint brush swiped like a blade, flicking the few droplet of paint remaining on it towards Stande as the artist stumbled backwards on his peg leg. He missed his crutch but momentum was on his side as it flung him towards the painting board. The artist collided with it, sending the picture and his target into the air. A single flintlock pistol. It floated above him, taking all the time in the world to descend into his hand. His finger twitched once it was caught, barrel lowering in search of the marine who had come to end his art. |
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Piper • Pirate • Martial Artist/Weapon Specialist • Hot Rockets • Bounty: 343,000,000 • SD Earned: 881 • Beli: 259,500,000 • Location: Raijin Island Jija Juju • Marine • Inventor/Marksman/Scholar/Doctor • Fiore • Rank: Rear Admiral • SD Earned: 579 • Beli: 188,000,000 • Location: Couture Island, Grand Line Other Characters
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| thingymabob | Oct 14 2009, 04:02 AM Post #20 | |||||||
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The fall of the great warrior primate went unnoticed by the evolutionarily superior marine lieutenant, who had his attention focused on everything but Lucius' final act of pride. It was perhaps for the benefit of the purple-haired man that Stande had not witnessed his swan song, because undoubtedly it would have been so painful to watch that Stande would have put a bullet through his heart without hesitation. And so, Lucius' final display of manliness was witnessed by no-one, only the trees around him could testify to the Stande watched the artist in front of him, noting every twitch and every tiny motion that he made. If the man made any move to attack, the marine was waiting to intercept it. There were few pirates on the West Blue that could match his agility and his precision with a weapon, and the marine already had the advantage: his gun was already in his hand. His opponent was dressed not like any pirate that Stande had ever seen before. The most outstanding feature was perhaps the peg leg. That was part of the stereotypical pirate wardrobe, but that was where the typical stopped. He wore a pair of white overalls, or at least, overalls that Stande supposed had been white at one stage. Multiple streaks and stains of various colours had tainted it, and the source of those stains, the dripping paintbrush he held in his hand, were clearly visible. His shirt, with the horizontal blue stripes, shared the same signs of many a wayward splash of paint during multiple projects, and was topped off by a black beret, which looked to be about five sizes too big for the man. He stroked his sizeable goatee as he stared at Stande, muttering more unintelligible gabble under his breath. With a loud cry, he suddenly made a move, but the lunge was backwards, so Stande made no move other than to keep his weapon trained on the man. The man fell to the ground, having reached for a crutch that was now lying a few feet away from him. He had managed to produce a flintlock pistol, however, which he was pointing rather shakily at Stande. The lieutenant didn't flinch; this man was a fool if he expected the flintlock to be of any use to him. Stande could guarantee that if they were to shoot, his bullet would fire first, and with much more deadly accuracy than this old codger who couldn't even keep the gun still. There were a handful of loud gunshots, as Stande made a movement, that looked to be almost instantaneous to the untrained eye, and the wooden crutch was blasted apart as bullets hit it. In the blink of an eye, his weapon had already returned to its original position, pointed straight at the artist. "I can guarantee you that I will hit you between the eyes before you can pull the trigger." |
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| ♠ Shamma | Oct 15 2009, 04:39 AM Post #21 | |||||||
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There was bleak silence all around him. Nothing stirred. Nothing broke the ambiance. The raw cold he had heard that inhabited death was yet to flow over his naked chest. But Lucius waited. Still holding pose. The skeletal structure of Death not appearing in the darkness. He reopened his eyes slowly; visual aids that had been closed since the ending of his hallowed last cry. The afterworld looked much like the previous world right down to detail. Maybe someone needed to guide him to the other side. The purple maned warrior jerked his head to either side, taking in his new domain. It would be a platform surely? A dock which awaited the vessel to take him to the Island of the Dead. Remembering some old tales of ghosts, the boxer tried to poke his thick knuckles through his own chest. Annoyingly he was not transparent. Nor was his deceased body lying on the floor behind. It was odd. He had not expected death to be so... clean. Standing upright and planting both hands on his hips, Lucius again looked from left to right and back again, occasionally raising his hand to shield his eyes from the remarkably similar sun rays. The afterlife was supposed to be more dark and drab in his mind as punishment for losing the sacred light of life. It all looked the same. And his guide was late. Lucius tapped his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and shaking his head. The service was awful! If he ran this afterworld business he'd make it far more efficient, like a mighty golden ship that floated on the very air. With gracious guides and many foods... but wait, death was a punishment! So maybe a wooden ship would do with less alluring escorts and perhaps porridge. No one liked porridge. - The artist lacked the nerve to paint the scenery red with blood, his finger quivering on the flintlocks trigger, thumb unsteady on its pull mechanism. He was shaking visibly, a pained expression clear in his eyes. Tumbling onto a limp leg was no painless task after all. And his paintbrush has snapped in the fall. His eyes flicked towards its scattered parts, wood splintered at the two ends of the separate pieces. The tip still dripped with paint but it was finished, unrepairable, useless. And his picture! In his madness he had flung it away for the weapon he now dared not use. The paper had split on a rock, the wet paint smudged and it was... ruined. Weeks of work undone by this, this critic! "Vous...You 'ave destroyed all ov zt!" He said wearily, taking some heed of the black coated marksman's words. With some hesitation he lowered the flintlock to the floor, his hand still trembling on it. With a gulp, the artist let go of the weapon, instead using his arms to drag his body away from the marine in a final act of defiance. His destination was simply his ruined art, a last artistic grace if the man who trailed his gun on him permitted it. From the cruel look of his eyes, the artist was some what doubtful. - His foot was still tapping, gather dust clouds now as the task was repeated over and over. Maybe if he waited days he could cloak his entire body in a cloud of dirt but that held little reward. Plus his torn shirt was already dirty. "Tch! I'm going to walk!" Announced the deceased marine, stamping his foot. He waited for some reaction, maybe a guide to emerge after seeing he was no longer amused by their game. "Well? Anything?!" He yelled again to the blank slate of the afterworld. Nothing again. Silence. "Fine! But I'm complaining when I get there." He roared one last time, eyes looking towards the hill. In those same tales of death and ghosts, the place the dead went was in the sky. So theoretically going to the highest point was the smartest thing to do. Perfect logic. He could probably jump in from there. Or maybe... Yes. Going to the hill was the right thing to do. Perhaps his guide had got confused, a cannon shot death would not be clear. Would the spirit spawn at the point of impact or the point of fire, an obvious mistake! A figure was even the hill! Excited about his own afterworld quest, Lucius began a light jog towards the hill. Oddly his body... no, spirit was still tired despite being, well, dead. Perhaps it was the shock of no longer holding a host, simple death fatigue. That made sense. Taking his time, the boxer began to climb up the hill without much thought, heading towards the pair on the summit. |
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Piper • Pirate • Martial Artist/Weapon Specialist • Hot Rockets • Bounty: 343,000,000 • SD Earned: 881 • Beli: 259,500,000 • Location: Raijin Island Jija Juju • Marine • Inventor/Marksman/Scholar/Doctor • Fiore • Rank: Rear Admiral • SD Earned: 579 • Beli: 188,000,000 • Location: Couture Island, Grand Line Other Characters
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| thingymabob | Oct 16 2009, 05:26 PM Post #22 | |||||||
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The marine's face remained as cold and emotionless as a statue in deep freeze. There was no flicker of compassion on his features, no hint of triumph, no sign of smugness as the criminal gave himself over. The man was clearly in pain; the fall hadn't been light, but Stande was not the least bit concerned with the artist's well-being. "Vous...You 'ave destroyed all ov zt!" Stande heard the words, but they made little sense. Even after peeling away the thick accent that muffled the meaning, it was difficult to figure out what he meant. Was is it a theme of this island to raise people who were unable to articulate themselves properly? First the gorilla, then the old man, and now this defeated painter. However, seeing the man before him now was starting to make things fall into place. This outlaw clearly fancied himself as an artist of some sort. Now, Stande was not one to really appreciate the fine arts, but as far as he could see, there was nothing around that could pass as 'art', even with the lax standards the artistic community seemed to have adopted these days. All that was before the artist was the barren island of Karaoke. The old man was pulling himself painfully to the edge to the hilltop now, to get one final glance at his ruined masterpiece. Stande did not approve. Common sense dictated that you didn't move a muscle when someone was aiming at you with a gun, did it not? His finger lowered on the trigger, and the old artist cried out in pain as a pain shot up his already injured leg. "When people are arrested, they do not try to leave." Stande marched up to the artist, giving the fallen man a kick in the stomach. "You do realise, of course, who holds the power here?" If he did, it was time to start acting as if he did, before he lost his life. This man was the criminal that Stande had been deployed to capture. The report had labelled him as an art maniac, who sought to create a masterpiece of gigantic proportions. Then, it occurred to the marine. From his vantage point on the hilltop, he could see almost the entirety of the island below him. And it looked fairly scenic. His eyes darted to the cannon by his side. Was it possible that the deranged painter had been treating the entire island as hsi canvas? As an almost uninhabited island, it would essentially be a blank slate on which he could create his work. However, the idea was madness. This was not 'art', it was simple stupidity. Nevertheless, the criminal had been apprehended, and it was time to alert the captain. He fished around in his pocket for a few seconds, brining out a DenDen Mushi, which crackled to life. "Lieutenant Ardgriffe reporting in. The criminal has been arrested." After hearing an affirmative response from the other end of the line, Stande looked around. He could see a foggy shape in the distance which was likely to be the Marine vessel. How was he going to get this man back to ship? The gorilla had probably been wiped out by the cannon already. What a shame - the only possible use he could have been, and he hadn't even managed to fulfil that. |
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| ♠ Shamma | Oct 17 2009, 09:31 AM Post #23 | |||||||
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He was steps away from the summit when he heard a shot, all the cannon fire and handgun play of the pirate had developed a clear instinct in the bodybuilding marine to duck and roll at first notice and then look for a new crater. He saw neither, only his back aching more from the strain of the movements. Everything hurt in the afterlife, Lucius had assumed exhaustion and pain went away in death. Punishment he guess; punishment for dying. With a groan, Lucius hauled himself back to his feet, dusting away the dirt on his trousers till he paused, not understanding why such an act was required. He was dead. Why was everything still colourful?! Why did he have to bother with petty things?! Why was he not transparent?! Why had his guide not arrived yet?! "Where is the banquet!" He shouted, thoughts making themselves verbal as the pent up brain waves needed to burst out. Even his voice did not echo as a ghosts stood, come to think of it, he was still breathing too. The marine held his breathe, covering his lips with one hand whilst squeezing his nose with the other. He didn't need to breathe in the afterlife! It started getting fuzzy a minute in, the boxer's cheeks going purple and his body swaying. A tired, hurt soul denying oxygen to his system rarely lasted long, as he lurched one way, Lucius spotted something that made him gasp. The gasp bursting open his hand defence and forcing a rush of air into his lungs. The pirate! He had died too! Forgetting his death test altogether; another deceased man was proof enough, Lucius ran towards the black coated marksman as joyfully as he could, still baring in mind that this man had been a scum of the earth pirate in life. It was odd that he was sent to the same place as a marine really, but over thinking things hurt when running. Skidding to a halt just meters away, his movements and noises hardly stealthy, Lucius bent over to catch his breathe. Why was he breathing still? Nevermind. He had better things to work out. Like why there was a battered man in a splattered coat crying on the floor. Maybe he had died too. Who knew? "So, you were abandoned by the guide too?" The purple maned marine asked, ignoring that the pirate had broken their truce and still required a much deserved punch-to-the-face. Those seemed petty issues now they were both dead. Again he looked down at the withering artist having spoken his question, looking at him oddly. This guy too was experiencing pain in the afterlife, the stories hadn't been very accurate at all. |
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Piper • Pirate • Martial Artist/Weapon Specialist • Hot Rockets • Bounty: 343,000,000 • SD Earned: 881 • Beli: 259,500,000 • Location: Raijin Island Jija Juju • Marine • Inventor/Marksman/Scholar/Doctor • Fiore • Rank: Rear Admiral • SD Earned: 579 • Beli: 188,000,000 • Location: Couture Island, Grand Line Other Characters
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| thingymabob | Oct 20 2009, 04:40 AM Post #24 | |||||||
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Something was coming. Judging by the sound of twigs snapping with every pounding stomp on the ground, it was something clumsy, carrying a bit of a wide load. But the ape had perished, had he not? There was no one left with that sort of fat on him, to make the earth tremble with each heavy-footed step he took. Stande kept his weapon on the artist, keeping an eye on the whimpering Frenchman as he watched for the approaching behemoth. There was no need to take his gun off its target. Whatever the beast was, it sounded like it was moving so awkwardly that Stande would be able to avoid it if he attacked. Then, with a burst and a flurry, and quite possibly the worst display of stealth that Stande had ever witnessed (and he had overseen the training of those Marine Recruits before), the purple-maned Neanderthal burst out onto the hilltop. He was looking around, clearly unable to comprehend something as simple as his surroundings, and apparently confused by the presence of another man. Had he assumed that the cannons fired themselves? How had a man of his subpar cognitive abilities survived the test of evolution? His breed should have perished thousands of years ago. "So, you were abandoned by the guide too?" Needless to say, Stande was not impressed. He had already been hit with far more nonsensical babble than he was willing to deal with, and if it continued like this, heads were going to start rolling, or at least be subjected to a shower of bullets. What was this 'guide' that the ape was talking about? In fact, Stande was surprised, although not necessarily impressed, that the subhuman creature had known big, complicated words such as 'you', 'guide', and 'too'. "If you do not shut that mouth of yours, I will personally escort you to death's door myself," he threatened calmly, his cold eyes narrowing as his pupils narrowed into mere slits. He was angry, and the atmosphere around him was tense. Any person would be able to detect his murderous intent. Even the unevolved primate before him ought to have sensed it. |
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| ♠ Shamma | Oct 21 2009, 10:07 AM Post #25 | |||||||
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The odd look Lucius held turned to one of confusion as a twist in the tale pitched this recently deceased pirate as his guide to the after life. It was a rapid promotion, dead man to guide in the matter of minutes if his patchy memory was anything to go by. Maybe time was different? The black coated man showed signs of remembering him to perhaps it was not time? It was also confusing, the muscular boxer half crossing his arms and stroking his large jaw. A map. A metaphorical light bulb burst into life above his head, a poorly dim bulbed compared to many people's bright bulbs but a strong idea by his standards. How could a recently dead man guide another, quite simple. On death, you were given a map. It was efficient and genius but not without error. Lucius padded his arms up and down his thighs to check his pockets before seeking through his torn marine shirt. Nothing. They had forgot his map! "Ah, that's nice of you. They didn't give me a map." He said sincerely, bowing his head politely to the pirate who still deserved a punch-in-the-face. This movement brought his eyes on the fidgeting artist on the floor, the purple maned marine connecting the dots. This guy had probably died an exceptionally pathetic death, thus in the after life he was crippled. He needed help to reach the next world. Lucius shrugged, taking pity and stooped down. Lifting up the wounded criminal and throwing him over his shoulder to make the battered man much easier to carry, the slight strain of his own tired body was noticeable but Lucius chose to shrug it off. Death fatigue, he'd been over that already. Finding balance, he turned to the black coated marksman again, giving the man the thumbs up. "All right, ready to go! Lead the way....er." The pirate had rejected his duel when they were both alive so he had yet to learn his name. Whilst scum didn't deserve manners, rules changed in death. A payment of sins... he had not been judged to be punished for all eternity after all. "My name's Lucius." He grinned as he spoke, shifting the angle of his 'thumbs up' to point towards himself. |
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Piper • Pirate • Martial Artist/Weapon Specialist • Hot Rockets • Bounty: 343,000,000 • SD Earned: 881 • Beli: 259,500,000 • Location: Raijin Island Jija Juju • Marine • Inventor/Marksman/Scholar/Doctor • Fiore • Rank: Rear Admiral • SD Earned: 579 • Beli: 188,000,000 • Location: Couture Island, Grand Line Other Characters
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| thingymabob | Oct 21 2009, 07:48 PM Post #26 | |||||||
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Fffffffffffffff
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"Ah, that's nice of you. They didn't give me a map." ... Map? What did he need a map for? To find the bathroom? Stande rolled his eyes. It was impossible to try and figure out what went through the mind of this creature of subhuman intelligence. Usually, Stande prided himself in being very capable of reading the intentions of others, and reading their thoughts through their actions and slight differences in their voice. However, with Lucius, his brain was so primitive that Stande's customary techniques had no effect. It was impossible to get in the mind of an unevolved primate. Stande couldn't even fathom why Lucius would want to suddenly go and pick up the artist, even without Stande giving him the order to. Still, it wasn't like Stande wasn't going to take advantage of his further lapse of mental ability. "Make sure you hold him tight. Don't let him get away or you'll be in pain, for the rest of your miserable life." Afterlife, even. Stande liked to think that his wrath could extend beyond the limitations of death. When Lucius turned to Stande, with a stumpy thumb raised in the air and a goofy grin, the lieutenant continued to look disapprovingly at him. Introductions? What gave the gorilla the impression that he wanted to have any sort of interaction with him on a personal level, that involved knowing each other's names? Nothing from their previous interactions had suggested a thing. Perhaps the injuries from the cannon shots had given the fool amnesia. Thick-headedness beyond the likes of anything that Stande had ever seen was also a possibility, but amnesia seemed more likely. "What makes you think I care who you are?" Turning, Stande began to head down the hill. The marine vessel was approaching. He let his hand rest by his side, holding his gun loosely in his hand. The artist was in no position to escape, since the gorilla had him in his grasp, but it never hurt to be safe. Also, if the gorilla kept trying to talk, Stande needed a method with which to discipline him. |
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| ♠ Shamma | Oct 23 2009, 03:02 PM Post #27 | |||||||
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no fun
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"Ha! Like anything could escape my iron grip!" Announced Lucius, his bellowing voice smothering Stande's further comments quite successfully. The artist slipped a little over his shoulder as the boxer went on to prove this by performing a pose; feet in line with his large shoulders and arms lifted to flex his muscles. Thankfully the marine noticed the sudden loss of weight, grabbing the artist's peg leg before his entire body slipped off his back. Until a loud pop sounded. The peg leg suddenly got lighter and then a muffled thud was heard behind the carrier. Jerking his gaze back and around the purple mass of his hair, Lucius spotted the slumped and withering criminal who had landed neatly on his face. His mind took a moment to work out, staring from twitching body to peg leg and back again. "Huh." The marine shrugged, dipping down and hoisting up the groaning artist once again; slinging him crudely over his shoulder and continuing as if nothing had happened. He grumbled when the wounded man wouldn't stop fidgeting, but was more annoyed that his guide had yet to announce his name. And they were going the wrong way! Everyone knew the next world was in the sky, heading down the hill was... idiocy! But then Lucius was distracted by his bare chest, stroking his free hand along its muscular form and pondering on where he was going to get a new shirt... Did people even need shirts in the afterlife? |
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Piper • Pirate • Martial Artist/Weapon Specialist • Hot Rockets • Bounty: 343,000,000 • SD Earned: 881 • Beli: 259,500,000 • Location: Raijin Island Jija Juju • Marine • Inventor/Marksman/Scholar/Doctor • Fiore • Rank: Rear Admiral • SD Earned: 579 • Beli: 188,000,000 • Location: Couture Island, Grand Line Other Characters
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| thingymabob | Oct 24 2009, 05:18 AM Post #28 | |||||||
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Fffffffffffffff
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As the three of them reached the sandy shores, where Stande had first encountered Lucius, they were greeted by a marine vessel, proudly displaying the symbol of justice on its sails. As the ramp was lowered, Stande saluted sharply, before gesturing for the gorilla-man to come forward. "Take him up there, and hand him over to the others." He could follow those instructions, right? The lieutenant watched as the muscular man carried the crippled artist up the ramp, wondering what it was that had elicited the change in the primitive man. The earlier hostility that he had sensed had disappeared. The same agitation that Stande had sensed from the man previously wasn't as apparent. Perhaps his goldfish memory had kiicked in, and he had forgotten his feelings towards the lieutenant? Quite possibly. Stande followed the two of them up, nodding at the other marines as they frogmarched (or limped, rather) the criminal off to the holding cell. He turned to Lucius, giving him a look that said, "Now, get off the vessel", but his telepathic powers had faded, it appeared. There was no response from the purple-maned man, who just stared back at the Black Marine with a blank look on his goofy face. Stande grimaced. His raised his gun, wanting to let his weapon give the orders, instead of his voice, but he was halted by the merry laughter of his captain. "So, Ardgriffe, looks like another job well done." Stande glared daggers at his superior, relaxing his arm and holstering his gun once again. The captain was unlikely to approve of his intented actions. The jolly captain noticed the bodybuilder standing there and twirled his spectacular moustache. "Golly, what a fine looking man you are? So, Ardgriffe found himself a friend, did he?" The venomous look in Stande's eyes deepened. The day that this Neanderthal was considered his friend was the day that he killed himself, and everyone around him in a suicidal fit of fury. "No." Curt, concise and straight to the point was his response. "He's merely a sack of meat I had to drag along." "Hmm... certainly plenty of meat on him then." The captain nodded. He draped a manly arm over Lucius' shoulder, and walked him off in the direction of his own cabin. "Come 'ere pal. Don't you worry about old Ardgriffe there. He's just a groucy midget. I'm sure he likes you deep inside. The stories I could tell you about that man..." the voice trailed off as they entered the captain's cabin, leaving Stande outside, a glare in his eyes that threatened to crucify anything in its path. The other marines backed away, as the atmosphere around the dark-clad marine drastically worsened. Whilst he would never strike a superior officer, they knew that he would not hesitate to take out his anger on them if they nudged him even the slightest. Lieutenant Stande Ardgriffe was not someone you wanted to have angry at you, because the punishment was cold and torturous. With a quick pivot, and a swish of his trench coat, the lieutenant stormed silently back to his own quarters. When was he going to get away from this goddamn division? |
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| Titan | Oct 26 2009, 11:01 PM Post #29 | |||||||
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Nero's BFF
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Lit: x SD [x(x-8) + x^2]/2 = 77 Beli earned. Kay, you get f(B) beli. Plot f(B) = -5(B-18)^2 + 2750000 Then, pick any value of B you want on the parabola, and f(B) is how many beli you get. B is the X-axis, and f(B) is the Y-axis. C Commendations. In isosceles triangle ABC, where A is the vertex, angle A is 176 degrees. How many degrees is Angle C? Shamma: 13 SD (and another +1 for Shirt Tear Pride), 4m beli, promoted to Ensign.
Edited by Titan, Oct 27 2009, 06:57 AM.
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French Last Name: ✓ Gender: XX: ✓ Affiliation: Other: ✓ Custom Secondary Profession: ✓ King's Haki: ✓ Born Leader: ✓ Custom Traits: ✓ Sambamba Scoop: ✓ | ||||||||
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| ♠ The Unspeakable | Oct 31 2009, 05:26 AM Post #30 | |||||||
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Not Responsible
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Because of a misunderstanding in the review system, additional rewards are being issues. Stande -11 additional SD (Total for SL: 22) Lucius - 11 additional SD (Total for SL: 24) |
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Democracy Incoming
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