![]() Welcome to One Piece RP. We hope you enjoy your visit. Set sail with your own, unique character in the world of One Piece! Make some friends, join a crew, and sail to adventure! Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| True Artists Never Show-Off; K. | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 15 2010, 07:00 AM (5,009 Views) | |
| Drifter | Feb 15 2010, 07:00 AM Post #1 |
![]()
Hail Hydrift
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
As the sun started making it's way through the clouds over the sea, the newly dubbed Captain of the Artisan Pirates was just starting to get out of one of the hammocks he and his crew mates had installed onto a smaller ship they had found on Bijotsu. It wasn't much more than a slightly better version of the boats the three men had, but since it had been larger, they had decided to take it. It had taken them slightly longer than they had thought to fix it up, mainly due to their injuries, but they had gotten it done nonetheless, so that's what mattered in this situation more than anything. The ship was around thirty feet in length, with planks of all assortments and colors, though all the colors are resembled around the color brown. It had a smaller mast, just enough to keep the boat moving, and had a small cabin on deck that the Artisans made their hammock/food room. There was a small space under the deck to store some of their cargo, though it was mainly back up food they found on the island. Including some crackers they seemed to find there as well. Though it was mainly thrown together, it also had a small outhouse near the end of the boat, though without any running water it was mainly a toilet with nothing beneath it, going out into the sea. This made bleeding the lizard bad, although it could be a game to see if you could pee on any fish beneath you. Also, in a small room that branched off of the storage room, there was a bathtub with a drain that led underneath the boat, in a small pipe that only allowed water to go down, though if you twisted a small valve, you could draw up ocean water into it quickly for a bath. Allen yawned, rolling onto his feet out of the hammock before stretching slightly. After sliding his boots on, he walked quietly as he could out of the room, opening the door some before sliding out onto deck. Rubbing his eyes, he reached into his coat pocket before pulling out his sunglasses and sliding onto his face. He yawned once more, before heading up to the steering wheel of the ship to make sure they were on course. The Martial Artist grabbed the wheel loosely, making sure they were still heading straight, before making sure it stayed straight as he walked towards the front of the ship. As he leaned on the wooden railings there, he spotted something ahead of the boat in the distance. It was hard to tell from this angle, but it probably either a medium sized Sea-king waiting in the distance for them to get close... or it was Loguetown. He guessed it was the latter, as he grinned, before turning back to the rest of the ship. "Hey, guys! We're almost to Loguetown!" He yelled out to his Nakama, wondering if that'd wake them up or not. He was still grinning, sitting on the railing of the ship, glancing back at the town to keep it in his sights. Edited by Drifter, Feb 15 2010, 07:18 AM.
|
ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ #AtLeastItAin'tAids ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ ![]() Demolition King is Back Baby | |
![]() |
|
| Nary | Feb 15 2010, 08:43 AM Post #2 |
![]()
Artsy Lurker
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Fran quietly sat on a handful of newspapers he placed atop an old worn out porcelain toilet seat. The dark haired pirated grumpily placed his right elbow on his lap whilst his other hand held a week’s worth of newspaper. It was almost sunrise as he peered out the curtainless water closet’s window. The self proclaimed navigator slapped his face with an open palm. He forgot to put up the curtains when he stepped in the toilet. It was a good thing that neither the captain nor the barber were awake when he left to do his business, Fran crossed his fingers that they would stay asleep long enough to not see his unsightly state. He grumbled in dismay as he recalled the events that ultimately led to his unfortunate position. He was still half asleep when he was suddenly disturbed by a rapid churn in his stomach. Usually, it would mean that his digestive system was in need of something to grind badly. But it wasn’t the case, it would seem that the morning breeze crept under his shirt and got his stomach upset. As Fran sat back up, it appeared that he fell from his hammock over the course of the night and exposed his bandaged tummy to the mercy of mother nature. The navigator gritted his teeth when another surge of abdominal pain struck. Quickly, Fran crawled to the nearest closet he could find and swiped a handful of newspapers and made a mad rush towards the toilet on the other side of the deck. His stomach cramped up. “UrGGhhhhh....” Fran could feel all the air that was stored in his belly; it was maddening. As he clenched his fist and toes Fran prepared for on great heave. With all his might the pirate drew every ounce of strength toward his lower extremities. Ploackhhh!!! And it was over. A breath of relief escaped Fran’s lips as he wiped off cold sweat from his forehead. It was a great trial of endurance and fortitude, but none the less Fran emerged victorious. With a couple of newspapers thrown down the drain, he opened the toilet’s door with a triumphant smile. “Success!” As he stepped out of the small room Fran heard Allen’s voice from the steering wheel. Fran walked down the deck, he was careful with his step as some of the wooden planks were poorly nailed together while others were already worn out. It was the best the three pirates could accomplish provided the materials they had to work with. Most of the wood came from the crates that were abundant back in Bijotsu, it was however hell to dry them all. And salvaging parts from other wrecked boats wasn’t a walk in the park either. Luckily Allen, the Artisan’s captain was an experienced shipwright and somehow managed to keep the multi-colored boat afloat. “Good morning captain.” Fran greeted the sunglass wearing pirate as he stood behind him. The navigator cupped his right palm above his eyes to check on the obscured image from afar. Though the morning fog enveloped the entire shadowy figure, there was no doubt in Fran’s mind that it was indeed an island. He smiled as he gave his captain a soft pat to the shoulder, “Well I better get my stuff ready, the first meal is on you by the way.” Fran jokingly added before he made his way back to the hammocks. His rib throbbed. “I seriously need to find a good doctor when we disembark...” |
|
Fran C. 'Bull-Skull' Osgrave • Artisan Pirates • Navigator/Chef • Bounty: 57,000,000 • SD Earned: 208 • Beli: 78,800,000 • Location: Grand Line Strength: 55 / Speed: 30 / Stamina: 118 / Accuracy: 35 / Fortune: 55 Jager 'Hitman' Foon • ??? • Chef/Assassin • Threat: 30 • SD Earned: 187 • Beli: 58, 200,000 • Location: Blues Strength: 101 / Speed: 40 / Stamina: 30 / Accuracy: 50 / Fortune: 51 Cobalt Cross • Merchant/Weapon Specialist • Rank: Lieutenant • SD Earned: 102 • Beli: 17,755,000 • Location: Blues Strength: 53 / Speed: 24 / Stamina: 30 / Accuracy: 30 / Fortune: 33 | |
![]() |
|
| Wayne | Feb 15 2010, 10:10 AM Post #3 |
![]()
Gummy Bears
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
It was dark with only few streams of light coming from a lone window and from the cracks of the door, so Ben couldn't see much when he opened his eyes slowly. It would had maybe been hard for him to see even if there was enough light for such thing. He was feeling so beat up, there was some kind of a rush of getting off that island, all that building, searching for Galles while getting food.. Talking about Galles, he still had Ben's gun. Things were running through his mind as Ben rest on the hammock, staring at the sealing. He had woke up a moment ago for the stream of light that came in as the captain had left, and it didn't take long for Ben to notice that Fran, who surprisingly was found out to be relatively good navigator, also was up already. Relatively good because even though that man knew how to navigate, Ben would rather face an army of marines then live with Frans luck. There hasn't been anything too major, it was only the little things, like dropping things, pushing things over and even stepping on others toes. The man was a walking destruction. Even though all that, Ben forgave him very quickly.. Or at least tried. While laying on the hammock, Ben left hand creped down to a hilt which hold two razors. He had thought all of above in the time Allen had got to the front of this ship, which was brilliantly built and truly showed the skills of that man. He was a true artisan. Thinking to himself though, Ben wondered which path should he follow today. His fingers felt the tangs that rose of the casings, then he graped the other one of the razors and while rising it in front of him, he maneuvered the blade into the open with a yank from the tang. A small strain of light hit it as Allen shouted for the crew to wake up, well, for Ben to wake up, if Fran hadn't walked over the side of the boat and drowned.. Ah, he was drifting again of the subject, Ben thought to himself as he then glared on the casing of his razor to see the word craved on it. "Discipline, huh?," Ben talked out loud, just as the door opened and a familiar figure entered. Ben could had used his blades and show some opposite of discipline, but rather he got up slowly, letting out a gloomy aura. He walked past Fran, teasingly closing his razors right next to his ear. "Good morning.." The door went once more after that, leaving Fran into the hut with the hammocks and all the more personal stuff of the crew. Getting into the sun felt great, though his eyes didn't agree to such notion. In the light one could see Ben wasn't wearing his ripped jacket, and the shirt he was wearing under his vest was still bloody of the sleeves that had been rolled up past the elbows, though he had bandages on his wounds, which he touched both with his opposite hands. One on his palm and another on his arm, they were both very well healed and would probably not leave a scar.. Well, he soon forgot those as he turned around and saw the new captain and the island in the horizon behind him. "You're really gonna have to pay us all for a meal, eh, cap's?," Ben teased the martial artist as he walked over next to him, peering into the horizon for the island. Yep, that was Loguetown alright.. The same old thing was still standing, the homeland of many great men.. |
|
Benjamin Hurd • Crewhand • Barber • Artisan Pirates Bounty: 0 • SD: 31 • : 5,500,000 • L: Loguetown, East BlueStrength: 11 Speed: 16 Stamina: 11 Accuracy: 20 Fortune: 20 The Scariest Thing In The World 2nd Scariest
| |
![]() |
|
| Drifter | Feb 15 2010, 02:37 PM Post #4 |
![]()
Hail Hydrift
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Allen couldn't help but chuckle at his crew mates, who apparently wanted him to buy them their meal. He didn't mind, of course, but he figured he'd get a little bit of fun out of them before they made it to the docks. The Martial Artist got off the railing, taking another look at Loguetown, before saying: "Well, since I helped make the ship, I figured that I shouldn't have to pay for the first meal." The Martial Artist chuckled, before walking to the steering wheel again. "Not that I can't pay for it, of course." As he walked, one of his ribs hurt him somewhat. It wasn't too bad, but it did provide pain to him every once in a while. If it wasn't bruised, it was fractured to a certain extent. "Fran, I think visiting the Doctors'll be good for all of us." The Martial Artist called out to them, as he took the wheel again in his right hand, while standing just to the left of it. Some of the boards around his feet were creaking underneath him, not breaking, but reminding him of how bad of a Ship this had been with the materials they had used. The ship itself would probably only last until they got to Loguetown, but anything beyond that was pushing the boat past it's limits. His Shipwright abilities had gotten them off of the cursed Bijotsu, but still, this wasn't one of the boats that'd sail across the Seas with relative ease. The Martial Artist yawned again, as he saw the once dwindling image of the island start to grow larger. "Looks like we all should grab our belongings before exploring the town," Allen said, already seeing Fran was getting his stuff. "Go grab your things, Ben, I'll keep an eye out here for things." He offered, adjusting his sunglasses on his face slightly. |
ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ #AtLeastItAin'tAids ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ ![]() Demolition King is Back Baby | |
![]() |
|
| Nary | Feb 16 2010, 12:34 AM Post #5 |
![]()
Artsy Lurker
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
It almost took forever for the patched up boat to land along the docks of Loguetown. The constant creaks between the poorly built hull was evidence that the boat wouldn’t last another day in the treacherous ocean. The Artisans’ boat stood out amongst the gallant display of ships within the dock, mostly due to its unsightly construction. Fran sat atop the most reliable piece of wooden beam he could find. A striped bag hanged ready on his shoulder, his katana were sloppily inserted on the sides which protruded out the bag’s half open zipper. The navigator was still irritated at how Benjamin nonchalantly dared to flip his ‘emo’ razors at his ear. It was just plain rude. He slowly muttered words of hate. “One of these days I’m gonna break those damn razors of his.” And he possibly would, if Benjamin flips those things on his face again. Truth be told, Fran found it weird how someone could be so obsessed with material things. Once their badly built boat had safely docked into the port, Fran briskly jumped off the vessel. As both of Fran’s feet felt solid ground beneath his boots the pirate immediately felt everyone in the harbour looked his way, it would appear that every person was checking out the new arrivals. There were a few men around; most of them were probably labourers who worked there. While others were shady characters that Fran was better off not to associate with them. It wasn’t exactly the first time Fran had set foot in Loguetown, in fact he has been here a couple of times in the past. Everything about the harbour seemed nostalgic to the young pirate, the very island was also where he met Strawbeard and his crew. Ah, the good o’l times. Fran then placed a pair of harpoons over his left shoulder and went off on his own, too pissed to even tell Allen where he was off to since he would most likely see that emo of a barber’s face again. Fran would eventually bump into them anyway, Loguetown wasn’t that big of an island and Allen knew that the navigator was off to see a doctor. Fran traced his way to the familiar marketplace he once wrecked havoc from his pilfering. The whole scenery was still the same as he remembered it. He stopped by the local smithy along his way to the clinic. It was a rather crudely set up shop that had a large steel signage which read ‘Logue Steel Works’ above a poorly maintained wooden frame. As Fran entered, he immediately whiffed the pungent smell of charcoal, steel and sweat. The place was roughly the size of a small house and had a single counter, two ceiling fans and a single ventilator on the left wall; different weapons were placed on display stands while sacks of charcoal were neatly stacked on one end of the store. He smiled at the familiar face over the counter. An old but muscular man about four feet tall sat on a stool while he hammered heated steel beside a searing furnace. “Hey, old man I need you to fix something for me.”, asked Fran as he took out his broken sword out of his bag. The old man dipped the heated metal onto a large bucket of water. He stood up as his work sizzled in the bucket. Once the elderly smith took off his leather apron and hanged them up, he approached Fran and climbed another stool to reach the counter. The smith removed his goggles; his whole face was covered with charcoal smudges save for his eyes. He chuckled, “Well I’ll be, it’s Fran! How have you been ma boy?” Fran shook the old man’s hand, “Fine I suppose, Mr. Coal.” he then handed the fractured blade to the smith and asked him to fix it. The old man examined the broken weapon and slightly rubbed his chin. “Hmmm... this won’t take long, it’s just a simple task for me harharharhar!!!! Come back in a few hours and I’ll get this done.” Fran placed a pole arm on the desk “Thanks Mr. Coal, and also while you’re at it I want you to upraise this harpoon I found a few days ago in Bijotsu. It had a peculiar aura about it. One thing I found weird though is this spearhead.” He pointed at the blue colored blade. Fran wasn’t sure what to make out of the weapon so he figured that he’d get it upraised before he used it just to be safe, given the string of luck he had as of late. “Well, I’ll leave these to you, and one more thing I need four more katana, the usual quality Mr. Coal.” After Fran settled everything in the smithy he headed straight toward the town clinic which was a few blocks away from the marketplace. As he reached his destination he stopped at the front door and rang the doorbell with his index finger. Moments later the peach colored front door meekly opened with a young face behind it. “How may I help you sir?” Edited by Nary, Feb 16 2010, 12:35 AM.
|
|
Fran C. 'Bull-Skull' Osgrave • Artisan Pirates • Navigator/Chef • Bounty: 57,000,000 • SD Earned: 208 • Beli: 78,800,000 • Location: Grand Line Strength: 55 / Speed: 30 / Stamina: 118 / Accuracy: 35 / Fortune: 55 Jager 'Hitman' Foon • ??? • Chef/Assassin • Threat: 30 • SD Earned: 187 • Beli: 58, 200,000 • Location: Blues Strength: 101 / Speed: 40 / Stamina: 30 / Accuracy: 50 / Fortune: 51 Cobalt Cross • Merchant/Weapon Specialist • Rank: Lieutenant • SD Earned: 102 • Beli: 17,755,000 • Location: Blues Strength: 53 / Speed: 24 / Stamina: 30 / Accuracy: 30 / Fortune: 33 | |
![]() |
|
| Wayne | Feb 16 2010, 09:13 AM Post #6 |
![]()
Gummy Bears
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
"I'll take that as a yes!," Ben threw his reply back to Allen, refering to the meal, before he disappeared into the hut, where he came out soon. In the meantime of that and Allen walking to the steering wheel, Ben eyed the location ahead. Loguetown was a old, old city with a lot of history.. Ben had heard countless of tales about it, like of many cities.. Ha ha, it would be great to visit them all he thought to himself.. Well, two behind, hundreds and thousands to go... Ben's peace was disturbed by Allen telling him to get his stuff ready, which was actually quite a wise decision, as they were getting closer with speed. So Ben moved into the hut where Fran was still getting his stuff together. As Ben walked past him, Ben teasingly again quickly took up another one of his razors, opened and closed it quickly next to Frans ear and then placed it back into its own place. Ben didn't mean any harm by that, it was just his childish and playful way of paying back all those accidents while building the ship. Like the multiple times Fran had made something fall over on Ben's foot or when Fran was holding a blank of wood and turned, with the results of knocking Ben over with force. Ben didn't hate the guy, his persona didn't fit that. As long as one of Frans 'accidents' didn't include harming Ben's razors, they could get a long, maybe even be friends. Maybe.. By the time Ben was done with getting all his stuff, they were already docking. Ben saw Fran get off first, probably to tie the ship into the docks.. Yeah, with only two ropes in the whole ship, one for the anchor and one in the front, it could actually stay in place. Though there was no need for it to stay put, Ben made it clear that he wouldn’t step back on the rainbow boat, ever. And to be honest, the ropes weren’t even two full ropes, but both made of multiple smaller and longer pieces of ropes tied together.. Never the less, Ben threw over the anchor as Fran slowly made his leave for unknown reasons. As Ben noticed that the unfortunate afro-head had taken off, Ben figured his ribs was really aching and he needed the hospital.. Well, it wasn’t Ben’s problem if he got lost. With his luck he would get a piano on his head in front of the hospital.. Though that would be too comical. ” You should go see Fran is gonna make it, and also go check up on yourself. I think Fran can keep himself alive, I’m just worried about everbody he encounters.. I wouldn’t wonder if he’d pierce someone with that weird new harpoon of his!” Okay, that might have been little overboard Ben thought after saying all that to Allen, but at the same time, all of it was very much possible. Not before Ben got off the boat did he continue, ”I’m gonna go buy some..”, Ben hesitated for a moment to actually say it, but then came to the conclusion that Allen wasn’t gonna make fun of him, he continued ” Some colognes and a new jacket.. Maybe even couple perfumes if I can get a lady to want a haircut.”, all with a straight face. Ben then adjusted the strap of his self made suitcase/shoulder bag variation that is gonna be called a shoulder case, which it is, from now on, before waving at Allen as he skimped a long to the market around the central of the town, leaving Allen to survive with the payments of docking to a public dock. Ben walked for a while, passing all kinds of people who were just laborers, shady dealers and even couple noblemen. His hands were itchy to try and take a little from there and here, but he decided not to, he was just doing some honest shopping today.. He could rob the merchants with his sleek tongue. But just as he passed the corner he hold a sight in front of his eyes that was better then all his dreams of seeing this town. There was a shop next to a shop and a shop above a shop, housings going high up above them. There were café’s, bars and many kinds of restaurants. Couple places with a smith or a tailor sign and even a weapon store by the end of the street. Oh my, Ben was gonna have a fun day! ” Now, should I buy a bottle of wine or a barrel of apples first..?” |
|
Benjamin Hurd • Crewhand • Barber • Artisan Pirates Bounty: 0 • SD: 31 • : 5,500,000 • L: Loguetown, East BlueStrength: 11 Speed: 16 Stamina: 11 Accuracy: 20 Fortune: 20 The Scariest Thing In The World 2nd Scariest
| |
![]() |
|
| ♠ Shamma | Feb 16 2010, 11:05 AM Post #7 |
![]()
no fun
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Was she awake now? The markswoman wasn't sure, it had been awfully dark for a long time now, and nothing had really filled her mind during the forced slumber. Clover didn't dream anymore, she only suffered from the occasional nightmare, but the being that had taken to tormenting her recently decided to show some mercy and give her a blissful snooze. It was quite pleasant to regain the hours, to allow her some down time, without a care in the world. She was awake now. Eyelids lifted slowly at first, wearily staring from the left of her vision before crossing the center and then to the far right without a single movement of her head. The details were fuzzy in the early stages of her awakening, brain gradually catching up the current senses being experienced. Sight was always the first sense to check for the sniper; quickly she noted that her helmet had been tampered with due to the angle the visual-slit rested; though it could have been a product of her fall. Her surroundings were unclear at first, not the bottom of the stairs for certain. She had been moved by some vacant force into another room. A secondary stationary sweep told her it was the kitchen, her eyes opened fully. Next followed her hearing, aside from the usual clashing of water against the hull, all was practically silent in her spot. She waited just in case a sound had been missed, particularly focusing on the sound of gas from the faulty cooker to the right side of her vision. It wasn't on thankfully. It didn't smell of gas either, the sniper sniffing the air to gather in all the local substances. Surprisingly she had not started to stink just yet; nothing really seemed much out of place if Clover chose to ignore the dank smell of blood on metal. She held a similar sensation on her lips, poking her tongue at the substance and recalling the taste from one of the few occasions she had been caught red handed and beaten up. Blood, or more precisely, her own blood. Her body was suddenly alive with the little aches and pains that were to be expected after a tumble down several stairs. The skin on her forehead and down the left side of her face felt dry because of the wound that leaked during the slumber, she assumed there was probably a red streak to mark the blood trail. But the thumping headache held her attention more than any of the other little feelings, it was unrelenting and growing louder the longer she remained awake. The sniper closed her eyes from the world again, dipping her head forward and gritting her teeth in an attempt to mentally will away the head pains. She bared it for three minutes before the initial aftershock had faded; the drumming was still there but was minimal in comparison to the starting beat. Then a sense honed by experience was triggered, a poorly dubbed 'threat sense'. Clover could easily determine she had been moved by the only other person on board; Galles. For some odd reason he had chosen not to kill her in the unconscious state, nor wait on her waking so he could perhaps torment her in the build up to ending her life. Did he know she was a she? That was a detail the sniper wasn't confident on; her helmet had been moved, but that may have simply been a result of him dragging her to a new location or the fall. The markswoman briefly observed the drag marks created by her heels as she contemplated the possibility. Men were vile creatures. If he had discovered her gender, he probably would've of done grotesque things to her; the fact that she still maintained her helmet probably meant he was still clueless. And overconfident. She was not bound or restricted in any way, the door out of the kitchen was left wide open and clearly the pirate was not present in the room. Perhaps he had underestimated her? That would be his final mistake. Willing movement from her limbs, her cybernetic enhancements acted first, wholly unaffected by the trip and fall earlier; though Clover did note that only half of their fuel remained. Then her arms complied, lifting the rest of her aching body in a process that took longer than she really wanted it to. A whole minute passed before Clover could gather enough will power to stand without unbalancing her upper body. Any good doctor would have advised her to get a day's rest before attempting such a feat. Galles had even blessed her with the full contents of her cloak, minus Quadsong. She could feel most of the ammunition packs pressing against her sensitive body and only needed a small check with her hands to discover the rest. All accounted for by touch, no need to check by visuals, it would waste time. Instead, Clover focused on her legs, thinking hard whilst ignoring the lower but very persistent thumping. A satisfying click and tear alerted her to the task's completion. A series of jagged hooks and points having ejected themselves along the front of her shins and back of her lower legs; she refrained from releasing the hooks on her feet, it would be stupid to attach herself to the wooden floor boards. The sniper was now armed and dangerous, though was still eager to recover her ranged weapon as soon as possible. Taking in a deep breath, she moved. - The cloaked hunter moved with all the stealth she could manage in her groggy state, but focused on swiftness above all else. A speedy recovery would throw the advantage back in her favour. Her path was dictated by the drag marks made by her cybernetic legs; they followed through into the hallway and ended at the base of the stairs as expected. Checking behind her first, Clover proceeded when she deemed it safe to the area of her fall. Thus far no alien noises or movements had been detected. For a second time she deemed Galles overconfident, he had left Quadsong in its discarded state. Glancing at the top of the stairs for any sign of her former-worker, she stooped down to recover her valuable weapon. A quick check-over revealed no outstanding damage, all just superficial scratches because of her efforts in falling with grace. Checking the clip, she found it oddly untampered with. All eight shots were still ready to be fired. He was really underestimating her. Next her attention turned to the discarded bullets that had been her ultimate and literal down fall. They were still discarded amongst the stairs but the markswoman was not going to wager her own bounty that he had forgotten to scoop up some. It was a simple trick to catch her off guard, give her a false sense of security. Quadsong would negate this regained advantage. She aimed it up the stairway and led with the armed barrel of the weapon. To prevent accidental destruction or scraping, the hooks and sharp points retracted back into her legs; leaving tell-tale cuts in the tight theatre slacks. Not that it mattered so much; the brown cloak practically shrouded her entire body. Her rise was slow and steady, pausing with each step to detect any sound with her enclosed ears. Halfway up the stairway she noticed something wrong. Very wrong. No longer was the great expanse in front of them a void of sea blue. Rather, a built up town lay in their path, or to be more specific, the dock of a large town and to the finest detail, another boat that looked like floating scrap thrown together. And the Paw Print was still sailing at full speed. She was no sailor, but the basic principles of motion and direction hinted that they were probably going to collide with the unfortunate docked vessel ahead. The ship wasn’t making any indication of changing its path. She put together a vague idea of events, Galles had probably aimed the ship to crash into another vessel and sink, killing her as she slumbered whilst creating enough commotion on the dock for him to slip into Loguetown unnoticed. Two birds... Clover found her cheeks warming and a weird sense of admiration for such a brilliant plan, why the hell was she praising an attempt on her life made by that bastard? But he wasn't really a bastard, he was kind of- The markswoman shook her head, a frenzy of weird thoughts being discarded from her mind with the violent shake of her skull. It was a waste of valuable time, but it allowed her to clear the final few steps without her imagination slipping back to the pirate’s face. On deck, she found the lack of blood incredibly surprising. Why would he bother to- That didn't matter, the wheel was above her and Clover considered jumping it but remembered her fragile state and discarded a potentially self harming idea. Instead she used the traditional method of the stairs, trying to rush but being careful of over exerting the rest of her body so soon. Next to the wheel she found a sight she hadn't really expected. "What the hell are you doing!" She shouted at the slumbering worker. He was lying on that stupid cloak, having a nap whilst they were heading towards a collision with another ship! He was an idiot! Clover crossed the distance between them in a second, striking the side of the sleeping Galles with a forceful kick, a method of both punishment and waking him. "Do something!" She yelled at him again, considering another kick before she glanced back towards of the boat. But it was too late. They were going to collide. The sniper looked for her options, deemed the railings to be the best and grabbed onto them with her aching arms; a hook ejecting from each of her feet to latch onto the floor beneath for added traction. She was not going to fall again. And Clover braced, ignoring Galles for the time being. The Paw Print was the larger vessel, held the better design and the stronger structure compared to the smaller custom boat used by the three members of the Artisan Pirates. It was probably obvious to any ship-watcher that the outcome would clearly be in the favour of the stolen catamaran. ((...yeah.)) |
|
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
| |
![]() |
|
| Versesai | Feb 16 2010, 01:17 PM Post #8 |
|
Cipher Pol 0 Leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Galles had, indeed, napped this entire time. Odd as it was, he had been frantically awake for many nights after his food ran out, trying to chart and steer himself to an island near Bijotsu but failing. Storms, waves, general inability to predict such things and a small case of 'falling asleep at the wheel' had left him with only the Paw Print to turn to for refuge and shelter. It was sad, really. And he obviously hadn't slept for the insanely small amount of time that he had been on the ship until he napped. So it was no surprise that the ship was at full said. In fact, it was actually more surprising that the ship had stayed on course the entire time. Even if it was only a rudimentary straight shot to Loguetown from roughly in the middle of nowhere, where Clover and Galles were. He only knew how to get to Loguetown from Bijotsu and he had to make some basic distance and time calculations of where he met the Paw Print but honestly, he could have been -insanely- off. Thankfully he was not. The impending danger did not interfere with Galles nap or his restful state. In fact, his 'danger sense' was not even functioning. It wasn't until Clover began to run up the stairs towards the Helm that he really even noticed anything and that -still- didn't get him up. No, as far as he was concerned he was too comfortable to deal with it and indeed, would not deal with it. At all or ever. In fact nothing could interrupt his dream...He was flying through the sky, with some strange 'I believe I can fly' song playing in the background, sounding far too croonful for the particular moment but he supposed it was working...Strangely he didn't seem to be flying on wings or even moving at all to produce the effect, he was just flying. That was nice...Then a strange shadow descended on him and what looked like a gaping maw moved in from his right and- Ow FUCK that was a kick. He snapped awake as Clover smashed him into the side of the observation deck with that kick, groaning in extreme pain at this moment. He slid off the railing and eventually found the wind to stand up slowly, clutching his side and hoping the bastard hadn't just given him a very broken rib or ruptured organ...And he was at his full height standing now, groaning -again- as it felt like a ship had smashed into his side. His hand moved now to pick up his cloak, not noticing the impending danger as he pulled the damned thing up with him and faced Clover. "Alright, you got me...Ow, I never mopped the deck. Give me a minute and-...What are you looking at?" he asked, tilting his head as he turned around. And he stared. There was a boat in front of their boat. And they were rapidly heading towards it. Huh. This didn't seem good. Sleep and vague throbbing pain clogged his head for real estate until a gigantic 'FFFFUUUUUUCCCCKKKK!!!!' warning alarm sounded over all of them, causing his eyes to widen and indeed he scrambled to move past Clover, brushing her slightly as his cloak slid off onto the deck and he grabbed the wheel, spinning it rapidly as if to turn them away from the other ship. In fact, all he really did was increase the impact area. Now instead of the front of the Paw Print smashing into the other boat, the ship would smash into it at a -slight- angle. Well, this was Galles fault. No two ways about it...So maybe he was about to apologize for nearly killing the two of them or possibly -killing- the two of them in the seconds before the crash, or maybe for wrecking her boat. He could still obviously see the Paw Print would survive the crash and wouldn't wreck too badly, but there was also a part of him that knew worse would happen if only because that seemed inevitable. The sails were catching full wind, the distance was too much to turn and it seemed as if there was no way they were avoiding this crash. He'd done all he could. So he raised his hands off the wheel and sighed. "This is a good time to mention I either can't eat Sushi or can't swim. And I don't know which one." |
Ovae Sevault Dachrinne • Doctor/Weapon Specialist • This Man's A Doctor • 5,000,000 • SD Earned: 77 • Beli: 16,700,000 • Location: God Only Knows. These Other Inactives
| |
![]() |
|
| Drifter | Feb 16 2010, 01:51 PM Post #9 |
![]()
Hail Hydrift
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
As Ben tossed the anchor overboard, and Fran immediately left, Allen couldn't help but pat the steering wheel of the ship. The others weren't entirely sure of how far their little makeshift boat would take them, but with their help and Allen's craftsmen skills, they had been able to make it all the way to Loguetown in One Piece. {Lolololol pun} The Martial Artist did agree to his Barber's suggestion that he should go and check to make sure his new Navigator would make it to the hospital and back. Just as the Barber told him what he was going to buy and left, Allen walked back towards their cabin room, heading over to his hammock so he could grab his last keep-sake from their adventure on Bijotsu. He grabbed the box that was there, before setting it on the hammock, it's weight bringing down the cloth bed some. He lifted the top off the box, revealing the steel pieces of armor he had found among the items on the island, and with the others not minding, he decided to claim them as his own. He quickly pulled them on, one at a time of course, twisting the button on each one to secure it to his arm, while making sure they wouldn't fall off to easily. Putting the top back onto the wooden object, he ran a gloved hand through his hair, before deciding to try and find out how much it'd be for them to keep their boat here for a few days at the least. Just as he was walking out onto the deck again, something caught his eye out in the ocean. It took him a moment to figure out what it was: A large ship, much more sturdy and well made than the piece of wood he was standing on. At first, he didn't think that there was any problem with it, there were many ships coming in and out of Loguetown, and he figured that this was just like any oth- Then it hit him: With the angle that the boat was coming towards their boat at, it'd be extremely likely that the boat would hit the makeshift one he was standing on. And the way the Make-Shift boat was made, it wouldn't be able to hold up against the combined force of the ship that was heading straight towards him. And as it turned, the angle of the ship was just making it worse. Now, there was definitely going to be a collision happening between the two wooden objects. And he knew who the winner was going to be. As the ship drew closer, seeming to go faster as it got closer, there was only one option left to the Captain: Abandon ship!!!! Pushing himself as much as he could, he made a dash towards the docks, watching the Paw Print out of the corner of his eye so he wouldn't be surprised. Just as he made it to the edge of the craft he was on, the 'Love Ship' (*cough* Paw Print *cough*) was just feet away from smashing into the Make-shift boat. He made a large jump out of the boat, rolling along the pier some just as his Boat was smashed into by the larger boat. Since it hadn't been built as sturdy as any other boat would've been, it was easily broken to smithereens. As Allen shook his head, struggling to get back to his feet, he looked over his shoulder to see what had become of his 'Fail-piece' of boating. The boat that took the place of his piece was large, probably not good for more than five or six people at a time. On the side of it was written 'Paw Print,' which struck the Carpenter as an odd name for a ship. He stood up, however, walking up to the ship as he called to anyone on board (since I'm not sure how high the edges of the ship are) "Uh, hello?" He called, "I believe you just smashed mine and my friends' ship." Since he didn't know how all was aboard the ship at the time of the crash, it was safer to give off a friendly attitude, rather than start out with an unfriendly one. |
ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ #AtLeastItAin'tAids ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ ![]() Demolition King is Back Baby | |
![]() |
|
| Nary | Feb 17 2010, 05:33 AM Post #10 |
![]()
Artsy Lurker
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Fran laid half naked in a lone table at the center of an eerie clinic. He cautiously looked around the dark shelves across the room, each shelf contained dozens upon dozens of large glass jars. What made the navigator shiver wasn’t the fact that the only light source in the whole room was a bunch of ghostly candle sticks wedged on human skulls, or the hideously drawn paintings of devils and such which Fran suspected were painted with blood, or the ever so familiar stench of blood that lingered throughout the room. No none of them were as scary as the contents of the glass jars that silently sat on the shelves, the jars contained eyeballs of every shape and size, innards both big and small and as well as several lizard-like creatures soaked in a putrid colored water. While Fran waited for the ‘doctor’ to examine him he, rested his head on the soft comfy pillow beneath his scruffy afro. Though he dared not to close his eyes, this place was the last place he’d ever take a nap. When Fran first entered the room, he almost cried, he could swear that the clinic didn’t look as hideous when he last visited eight months ago. It was a charming little clinic with a very warm ambiance and a cute blonde doctor. How could such a heavenly place turn upside down? Moments later, the small blue haired girl timidly entered the room accompanied by an old hunched –bag hag. She wore a black garb and a white shawl decorated with eccentric designs of what Fran made out as skulls. The odd duo then marched right toward the shelves. “So tell me boy, what’s wrong with you today hmmm?” The old hag asked with a hint of evil with her long pointy nose and her vile crooked smile. Something was terribly wrong, and Fran knew it. However, this was the only clinic he knew on the island and his broken ribs needed to be patch up as soon as possible lest he want to fight in this poor condition. “I have a few broken ribs.....” answered Fran hesitantly. With a glow in her small white opaque eyes, the hag furiously started to sequentially take out different jars and had her tiny assistant take them over to a large jet black caldron. Fran wondered how the caldron suddenly appeared behind the rows of candles. He could have vouched that there wasn’t one earlier. Eventually, the ‘doctor’ began to empty the jars contents unto the oversized black bowl of death. She stirred it frantically until it was green, vile and mushy and the hag did so with a mad streak of laughter. Yeah, Fran was a bit worried now. As soon as the witch-like hag finished her ritualistic preparation of her so called ‘all-natural medicine’, her tiny azure haired assistant produced a twenty-five inch long, five inch wide syringe. Fran’s heart sank unto the depths of Davy Jones’ locker, forget fighting on a set of broken ribs, that hag wasn’t going to stick that ‘thing’ in him! The alarmed pirate was just about to jump off the table when six inch cuffs suddenly slid across his hands, torso and feet. Fran squirmed like a dog in a heat haze, but to no avail, he was nailed to the hideous table of death. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” |
|
Fran C. 'Bull-Skull' Osgrave • Artisan Pirates • Navigator/Chef • Bounty: 57,000,000 • SD Earned: 208 • Beli: 78,800,000 • Location: Grand Line Strength: 55 / Speed: 30 / Stamina: 118 / Accuracy: 35 / Fortune: 55 Jager 'Hitman' Foon • ??? • Chef/Assassin • Threat: 30 • SD Earned: 187 • Beli: 58, 200,000 • Location: Blues Strength: 101 / Speed: 40 / Stamina: 30 / Accuracy: 50 / Fortune: 51 Cobalt Cross • Merchant/Weapon Specialist • Rank: Lieutenant • SD Earned: 102 • Beli: 17,755,000 • Location: Blues Strength: 53 / Speed: 24 / Stamina: 30 / Accuracy: 30 / Fortune: 33 | |
![]() |
|
| Wayne | Feb 17 2010, 10:47 AM Post #11 |
![]()
Gummy Bears
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Well, after all pondering, first place Ben ended to go into was a clothes shop next to a hardware shop. Just before entering the idyllic looking business, he noted a large trunk in the window of the hardware shop and a bellman's cart in front of this weirdly named clothes shop; "Jack's Skirt." Also a name that seemed unbelievably gay. Only way Ben could tell there were mens clothing was because of couple mens jacket with sale prices on them at the front window. From the earlier named things, Ben got an idea and quickly went to the side alley to take a leak into an empty perfume bottle that he acquired of his shoulder case. Then he took some of his reminding cologne and added few drops of it in, then sprayed the now piss filled bottle with it, so it would 'smell nice'. After these preparations he walked into the hardware shop to buy the trunk, all in a quick moment. After getting out with it, he threw it on the empty bellman's cart and then entered the clothes shop. And how to see, the establishment was run by a man in bright red tights, a pink sleeveless shirt and a greasy hair combed way back on his head, so he didn't have a single wrinkle on his face. If the prices weren't promised to be cheap and Ben to have a plan, he would had ran out of the store. Just as Ben could manage not to turn around, the man raised his eyes off a newspaper that was covering him a little, as the man was siting on a stool in front of the counter. Suddenly the man talked with a voice the up-most deepest Ben had ever heard, "How may I help you, dear customer?" It took a moment for Ben to restrain himself of not jumping out of the small clothes store that had only few hooks behind the counter with shirts and couple tables with different type of skirts and shirts laid on them. There was a pleasantly old atmosphere with the pine floors and walls, all of this totally not fitting the shopkeepers appearance! Well, as Ben got back into the world, he just smiled and pointed at a blue-gray jacket that was in the window, for at the moment, he was lost of words. As the shopkeeper went over and took out the jacket, Ben took a long gasp of air and shook his head to get some sense back into him. Just as he was done, the shopkeeper turned around with a sellers smile he said; "What an excellent choice, sir. Here, try it on, don't be shy!" - And it happened again, Ben couldn't speak because he feared that if he opened his mouth he would either laugh his ass off or vomit. He was guessing both as he took the jacket and tried it on. Turning at a mirror that was on the left wall, between a two sides of hooks that hang ones above the other. Oh it was a perfect fit against his body, Ben heard the shopkeeper say. And other compliments that Ben didn't listen to as he tried to get his mind clear. So, he turned around and faced the shopkeeper, and quickly saying what he had to say, using his most official tone. "May I suggest a deal, fine man? I am Nicholson Bordeaux, a not so well known as I would hope, perfume and scent maker. I am interested in renting that bellman's cart of yours and also purchasing this jacket against a slightly smaller price and also a free sample of my newest line of scents for men and women!", Benjamin ended his speech of total falseness which the clerk wouldn't hopefully notice, and took out the piss filled perfume bottle which still smelled like another cologne, presenting it to the shopkeeper. It took a moments of debates and Ben needed to agree to having carry a billboard, that advertised the shop, on the bellman's cart. Well, it was enough for him getting to fool a person and not needing to drag that large trunk around. Afterwards Ben also lost himself to buy a bottle of wine, some colognes and perfumes, until he ended to the weapon store. Ben couldn't feel shave without a gun for some reason, and at this point, he didn't see it likely that he would get his original one back from Galles, so he went in and bought a two shot flintlock just for himself. There was a small debate of the price of the bullets, which was the first argument Ben had lost to a merchant. He had to been rusty. As Ben was again outside on the street, he passed a cart which had apples, and his fingers just happened to grasp one and his feet just kept on walking without him being noticed of his quick movements. While walking down the road with buildings made of mainly out of stone, but some out of wood by both his sides, munching on his apple, Ben couldn't help to like this town. He should visit the central square too, he thought to himself. Suddenly somebody pumped to him and few more men ran past him. This got Bens attention and made him stop pulling the bellman's cart which had his newly bought trunk with the wine, scents and Ben's shoulder case in it. The new jacket was on him and not hiding the razors and gun hanging off his waist. He also couldn't help over hearing a small talk - "What is going on?" "There was an accident in the docks." "Yeah, apparently a small rainbow colored boat was hit by a larger vessel" "Really?!" - In the meantime of this, Ben's appearance changed grim as his facial expression was shocked. The small boat would had went down from anything very much less powerful, but a large boat crashing into it? What thehell was this? Had Fran jinxed them all? Pulling the cart with him, Ben started running after the small crowd that was heading to the docks, and even passing couple of them. While passing the front of a bar, Benjie over run a man, which was the baddest mistake of the day. Not long after, did Benjie feel next to a side alley a strong hit to the back of his head. He fell back on his cart, and was catches quickly and dragged to the side. Nobody paid any attention in this busy town that had enough shady business to begin with as the barber was taken off. Maybe these men didn't like being pushed around, or they saw a potentially strong man to work for them. Never the less, the Showmen sure weren't gonna let Ben get away with this by the time the captured barber would wake up. Long Post is Short
|
|
Benjamin Hurd • Crewhand • Barber • Artisan Pirates Bounty: 0 • SD: 31 • : 5,500,000 • L: Loguetown, East BlueStrength: 11 Speed: 16 Stamina: 11 Accuracy: 20 Fortune: 20 The Scariest Thing In The World 2nd Scariest
| |
![]() |
|
| ♠ Shamma | Feb 17 2010, 12:39 PM Post #12 |
![]()
no fun
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
The sniper had firmly planted herself in the chosen brace position for impact when she felt the slight knock of Galles scrambled for the wheel, the type of contact that triggered a reaction from her. But it wasn't the usual swipe or shooting reserved for any old street passer who had the misfortune of stumbling at the worst possible moment. Instead it was... another helmet furnace. Clover's expression softened beneath her iron-mask after the brush, cheeks going a rosy red as she considered what the contact meant. It was the first time he had touched her when she was conscious! Their first physical contact. Her straight posture lapsed slightly as she leaned forward, her knees had not gone weak but instead it was her elbows that lapsed in control. She felt giddy as if seasick. She could never recall boats ever causing such an effect on her body, it was weird, but not as weird as discussing sushi at a time like this. Clover snapped out of her dizzy expression. What the hell did that have to do with anything? Sushi and swimming? How did the two scenarios even relate? "What are y-" Crash! The jerk of the boat was horrible on collision, the markswoman feeling her body hitting an imaginary wall as its forward motion continued on without her, one of the floor hooks creating a crack on the wooden boards. She clenched her teeth, preventing a gasp or shout that would make her disguise more suspicious; she was still convinced that Galles had no idea about her true gender. The initial shock subsided, but the noise of two boats colliding lasted much longer. Loud cracks sounded the demolition of the smaller craft, in a matter of seconds the Paw Print had reduced it to scrap for the Sea Beaver's nests. Briefly, Clover noted that her worker had done something during her lapse of concentration. The crash angle had been altered slightly to prevent a head on collision with the wooden dock after the smaller ship but his movements had not been perfect. The leading prong of the catamaran's front had smashed its way a good meter into the branched walkway before stopping completely. The shipyard master probably wasn't going to be happy about that. The owner of the boat they had just obliterated would probably be the angrier though. The foot hooks retracted as Clover released herself from the bracing stance, running a quick check over the ship with her eyes. The odd bit of scattered wood from the sinking ship had landed on the lower deck, but she didn't pick up on any obvious damage to the front of the catamaran. In Fact, the Paw Print was surprisingly sturdy to her untrained eyes. Maybe she would keep it after all... unless she got a good price. She turned her attention towards her worker, looking towards him but trying to ignore his feature so she didn't start staring. "Lower the sails and check for damage." The sniper ordered, pointing to the sails first and then the deck below. It didn't matter that her orders were a tad vague; it was entirely his fault anyway, he had to clean up the mess. She would need maximum use of her imitation male voice to convince the shipyard owner to not call the marines, but if negotiation got too complex she would just... get Galles to do the talking. His fault, his mess. On the assumption that he would be obedient as he had been on first meeting, Clover turned away and paced towards the dock side of the ship. There was some doubt on her mind, he had been causing more problems the longer he hung around; efficient worker could have been his title if it weren't for his fiendish stair exploit with the bullets. Yes, the markswoman was convinced the bullet slip was some part of his plans, he seemed so smart and capable of such exploits, she really did admire his cunning ideas and lovely smi- Clover paused. Someone was calling up to the side of the boat. She registered his words. The shipowner. Problem. Killing him or scaring him into silence would be the quicker options, she was far more concerned about the shipyard people. Her spare hand moved to the railings, clutching it smoothly. Then she launched up with her powerful legs, using the clutching arm to rotate herself through the air so she swung down towards the deck and landed a good few meters away from the owner of the former-vessel. The helmet's visor snapped to him instantly and coldly inspected. Again she was staring at someone who she recognised, a person from Osula? No, a bounty poster. It was either him or some unfortunate bastard with similar features. She used her visual memory to recall his name and bounty. Allen. East Blue Pirate. 3,000,000 Beli. It was amazing how easy bounty hunting was. First Galles had appeared with his 13,000,000 on her ship and now she had an additional 3,000,000 to cash in on. She liked it when her plans played out perfectly. Hopefully her worker would be too busy checking over the ship to see the proceedings. Then she wouldn't have to hurt him. "Allen." She snapped in that deeper voice, making it clear her intentions were not exactly friendly. The brown cloak shifted as her arm raised from the shrouds to revealed the loaded figure of Quadsong; a full clip prepared in case he was more evasive than he looked. Weapon on target, but the next part of the capture wasn't clear. Clover didn't have any cuffs to capture him with and the rope to tie him up was on the boat; she planned to keep this little dealing off radar to avoid suspicion. But the sniper had already eyed a large barrel she could hide Allen in and claim him as cargo; rendering him unconscious first would be the best solution. On retrospect, loading a clip of dull bolts would have been better. She could have nailed him between the eyes and not killed him with that ammunition. The sniper frowned, she would have to use her recently developed negotiation skills. "Surrender." She demanded, resting on a strategy that involved shooting out his knee caps if he intended to resist. Just like she had done on the dock in Gray Island to that random thug. It had looked quite painful. |
|
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
| |
![]() |
|
| Versesai | Feb 17 2010, 03:52 PM Post #13 |
|
Cipher Pol 0 Leader
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Reacting with the reflexes he always did as the ship hit the other boat, Galles grabbed onto the column as the crash came. He had done his best to tilt the ship to avoid the full crash and he only hoped he didn't get a bloody raised Bounty for this, that was all he needed was another reason for people to track him down...All he needed was more reason for- Smash. The ship smashed into the rickety, fail worthy vessel in port and the resulting impact though it didn't jostle Clover or damage the Paw Print much, swung Galles around like a god-damned Rag doll as he held onto the steering column. The wheel remained intact completely thankfully but Galles lose his grip and flew during the wreck, falling off the observation deck and landing on the main one, actually landing behind the barrels near the door. And snapping the mop in half as he fell against it. And laying there, staring up at the sky as one of his arms curled around the base of a barrel, fingers twitching a little and the other one was pinned between his body and the wall of the cabin. Once everything settled, Galles groaned. Loudly. And decided he would -not- be moving for a while. Let the crazy bastard on the observation deck deal with the angry dock workers and shit...He had just been quite rudely woken up from a perfectly pleasant and lovely nap to be thrown all over the deck of a ship. Groaning again, he put his hand to his head. Well, he wasn't bleeding and he wasn't injured, he had just taken a hell of a god-damn tumble. Though he heard movement from all over now, what sounded like the other person aboard and a voice, some more moving...And then a voice that made him start to push himself up. ["Uh, hello?" He called, "I believe you just smashed mine and my friends' ship."] 'Slow' wasn't even defining how fast he was getting up, it was more like he was moving by frames as he pulled himself out of the pile of barrels. And when he had, he found himself standing off to the side of a confrontation. On one side, his newest...Erm...'friend'? Thing? Partner? Boss? Captor? And on the other? ["Allen."] Galles smirked as he stood up and stretched a little, finding the ultimate convenience in the situation. He'd found Allen, could join the Crew and, well, do things. Honestly he hadn't thought that far ahead after the 'Find Allen, join crew' phase of his grand plan and he was about to call out when Clover produced her crossbow. And Galles shut up remarkably fast, mouth snapping closed as he looked between the pair. And now, he was stuck. Largely due to a situation of his own damned making...He didn't have a problem killing people. He'd demonstrated it before quite plainly. Even women, as cold as it sounded, didn't escape that perview. It'd be easy, because she didn't know he'd taken the ammo and she didn't see him. She was focused on Allen. One shot with Fedeli to her head would break through the helmet and if nothing else smash her skull. The problem was, she wasn't threatening him. As much of a friend as Allen was, she wasn't threatening to kill either of them. She wanted Allen to surrender. That wasn't particularly life or death unless it was made such. So really, even in his mind, he couldn't justify just shooting her...Which meant this had to be done the hard way. Crawling and climbing out of the barrels, Galles brushed himself off and walked towards Clover, as passive as he could manage. Ignoring Allen briefly, though he did glance at the man and hoped he made no sudden movements. As witnessed several times now, at least by him, the woman with the bow gun was -quite- unfriendly towards those who moved at anything but a walk. And he stopped beside Clover, hands moving with no weapons. One hand went onto Clover's shoulder and the other onto her hand, using that to tilt the crossbow down gently. He perhaps misunderstood her intentions, maybe thinking she thought Allen was going to attack her. "He's not going to jump you for hitting the boat. He, err, is actually why I wanted to head to Loguetown." he explained, trying to calm her down and then looking to Allen, grinning a bit. "Sorry about that Allen. I was napping when we came into port and your boat sort've happened to be in the middle of our course...How bad is it?" he asked. Still touching Clover to keep her from going mad and shooting everyone. |
Ovae Sevault Dachrinne • Doctor/Weapon Specialist • This Man's A Doctor • 5,000,000 • SD Earned: 77 • Beli: 16,700,000 • Location: God Only Knows. These Other Inactives
| |
![]() |
|
| gonzo v. nemo | Feb 17 2010, 08:09 PM Post #14 |
![]()
Newbie
![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Some rustling outside the cell brings Nemo slowly around, as the stench of stagnant air fills his nose and every grove in the bricks press against his back. When Nemo desides to open his eyes to see the bricks and cobwebs that make up the ceiling, Nemo then says “Oh shit! It wasn’t a bad dream.” He then starts to sit up when he hears a voice from behind him, saying. “ah! So your finally awake.” As Nemo then turns around to see who it is as he sees the man dressed as a skeleton with that blasted scythe of his still in hand. The skeleton guy then asks. “So have you thought about that proposal that I offered the other day.” Nemo just placed one hand over his eyes then draged it down his cheek, while lifting the second hand keeping all his fingers down except the middle finger. As Nemo just responds “does that answer your question, or do you need me to clarify.” as the skeleton man just laughs and says “ok! Ok then! That’s good lets see what no food or water till you finally do agree, will do to that will of yours.” as he walked away form Nemo he just laughed. As soon as the guy was gone, nemo then rubbed the back of his neck and back and said. “You know what when he gets back, I’m gonna have to ask him if I can upgrade to the presidential suit, cause this bed feels like I’m sleeping on bricks.” Nemo just smiles until he then looks to his right and doesn’t see bya. Nemo then punches the bricks on the floor and lowers his head and said. “I gotta get out of hear.” OOC
|
|
Nemo • Shipwright • Carpenter • Artisan Pirates • Bounty: 12,750,000 • SD Earned: 110 • Beli: 28,700,000 • Location: Rust Pit Island grand line Strength: 19 Speed: 43(36+7)(50 submerged) Stamina: 104 (65+39) Accuracy: 22 Fortune: 35 Kintaro O’Darby • Ensign • scientist • Divisionless • Commendations: 1 • SD Earned: 7 • Beli: 2,200,000 • Location: swift breeze south blue . Strength: 5 Speed: 14 Stamina: 13 Accuracy: 7 Fortune: 9 | |
![]() |
|
| Drifter | Feb 18 2010, 01:58 PM Post #15 |
![]()
Hail Hydrift
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
As Fran practically laid on the table, yelling his brains out, the old hag had already taken the needle from her assistant, filling it up with the icky green substance, before getting a stool and getting near Fran's ribs. She smirked at first, touching the needle with her hands, before putting it into Fran's shoulder, as she pressed the substance into his body, as it set about numbing his body some. Then she took it out, handed it to her assistant, before setting to work on Fran's ribs. Being the 'trained' medical professional she was, she didn't even cut the dear lad open, firstly because she was afraid that it would lead to more yelling and screaming like a little girl, but also because it was just too messy. Using her bony hands, she was able to re-align the Navigator's ribs into fashion, before having her blue haired assistant hand her needles with white stuff in them. When she put a rib into place, she would stick the needle into his skin near the bone and coat the part with it, so it would 'stick' together, much like glue would. Luckily for Fran, the process didn't take long at all, at the most twenty minutes since there was only a couple bones to fix. Unfortunately for Fran, though, that needle would be the least of his worries within the crazed clinic office. Ruckus was heard outside the doors of the room, ranging from scuffling to a crazed laughing noise. Suddenly, the door was kicked in, as two people walked into the room. The first person was large and muscular, wearing nothing more than black pants and boots. He had an army buzz haircut for his blond hair, and big brown eyes. On his right arm was a tattoo of a heart with 'Mom' written on it. The other invader was smaller than the first, and of the opposite gender. She looked more like an acrobat would, wearing a more tighter outfit that showed off part of her stomach and some of her legs and arms. She had long brown hair, along with green eyes, and a cute face. She giggled as her associate started talking. "You're coming with us." he said, as he walked up to the now non-rib broken Fran as he tried to do a hit to his head to daze him in order to make the trip with the Navigator much easier. The acrobat, during this time, was running up to the hag and her assistant, stretching her arms out to hit them. She quickly knocked the hag away into a wall, before quickly hitting the assistant in a few key places before she quickly fell unconscious. One of the men that had knocked Benjamin out was dressed like one would assume a mime would. His punch to Ben's head had quickly taken him down, as he did the comical thing of putting his hands together like he was being applauded, though there was no applause around there. His face was put into a mix of happiness on his left side and sadness on his right side of his face. "Let's just get this kid and get outta here," The man who had been knocked over by Ben said, as he looked like one who was selling tickets would. He had Beli-holders on his pockets that would dispense whoever much beli was needed at a time, and even had the cheesy little mustache to boot. The mime then looked really sad at his college's suggestion, doing a silent sigh before falling on his knees and silently yelling up to the Heaven's why he was cursed to be silent all of his life. But, since he was silent, they didn't hear him. Nor did they seem to care, as the Beli-collector hit the man on the head, before the Mime nodded, getting up and putting the man over his shoulder, as the Ticket-Salesman took the cart. "Let's get him back to the ship." The man said, adjusting his glasses, before he started pushing Ben's cart towards where their ship was docked at the moment. He was sure that Magical Max would be pleased at their efforts, for finding another person to work on the boat for them. Luckily, no one could hear his thoughts, right? As Allen was waiting to hear a response from someone on board the ship, he was getting more and more curious to see who was actually using the ship as their own. But suddenly, he got his answer when suddenly a man jumped over the side of the ship, landing on the ground, before setting his eyes on the Carpenter. The two seemed to stare at each other for a minute before the man started to speak: "Allen." At first, the Martial Artist was surprised that the helmet wearing man had spoken first to him, since he was assuming that he had to start off their little conversation. But what surprised Allen more was the fact that he knew his name. It took the Martial Artist a few seconds of silence to assume how the Helmeted man knew his name. "Shell Town..." He muttered under his breath, before the cloaked man moved his arm out from underneath his cloak, revealing a fully loaded Crossbow. It didn't look like any Crossbow that the Martial Artist had seen before, definitely not one that he'd seen on his travels with Stone before he died. He wasn't sure when and if he would pull the trigger on the weapon, but before he could think about it further, another order came out of the Man's mouth: "Surrender." At this point, Allen had no idea what the man was trying to pull on him, as he slowly started raising his hands up to show that he meant no harm to her. "Just take it easy." He said quietly, trying to keep his cool to try and figure out why he was suddenly being held at Cross-bow point. He figured that he had gained somewhat of a bounty after his little 'Raid' on Shell Town with Raven, but he didn't know if it was even that much at all. During this time, the Martial Artist had been paying so much attention to Clover that he hadn't noticed another figure walking up behind her, until there were hands on her shoulder and her weapon to try and point it down, as well as to calm her down. For a minute, Allen wasn't sure of who it was, since he was still reeling from being held at gunpoint, but then once he started speaking, he knew exactly who it was: "Sorry about that Allen. I was napping when we came into port and your boat sort've happened to be in the middle of our course...How bad is it?" He grinned once he saw Galles's face grinning back at him. "Galles!" He said, excitedly, as he started to bring his arms down some once he recognized the man's voice and face. Finally, all the people he had fought with on Bijotsu were together again! He then realized that he should answer the man's question, though, before continuing on. "Well, she's pretty bad," Allen explained, pointing to some of the floating wreckage on the water. "But then again, we knew that she wasn't going to last much longer for us anyways." He smiled, looking at him again. "I'm just glad to see your alive! Fran, Ben and I weren't sure what happened to you since you disappeared on us." He said, scratching his the back of his head with his gloved hand. "I'm sure Fran and Benjie'll be glad to see that you're safe! They're here too, though they each had to do some things before we would meet up again," He said, grinning, as the looked at the two of them again. "So, um... Who's your friend?" He asked the Sharpshooter, wondering indeed who the Helmet wearing man was, for he was still being wary right now, though he just wasn't showing it as much. A few minutes after the skeleton man had left, another person had walked down into the cellar to take his place. A certain store owner who had convinced Nemo to go see the show in the first place. "Change of plans, my friend, looks like you're going to be needed soon." He grinned, looking too happy for his own good. "Though you were told that you'd be down here until you agreed to work with us, Magical Max is done with waiting and is forcing us to make you work on our boat." He laughed loudly, stroking his mustache while doing so. "So, if I were you, I'd do as the Captain says, if y'know what's good for you." The man laughed, as he stepped back against a wall to see the Shipwright's reaction to the news of it. |
ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ #AtLeastItAin'tAids ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ ![]() Demolition King is Back Baby | |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
|
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Loguetown · Next Topic » |







![]](http://z3.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)






: 5,500,000 • L: Loguetown, East Blue



7:43 AM Jul 11