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True Artists Never Show-Off; K.
Topic Started: Feb 15 2010, 07:00 AM (5,010 Views)
Nary
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Artsy Lurker
[ *  *  *  * ]
If there was anything that Fran was proud about, it would most probably be his innate toughness. Even when Fran had been plagued with his horrid luck, the pink wearing navigator always seemed to be able to come out with minimal damage. It was a trademark trait of his that was well admired way back when he was still under Strawbeard. Yes, back then, Fran was known as a tough as nails rookie that could easily go match the veteran’s pacing, but those days seemed over.

As Fran was dragged across the ground, he struggled to keep his arm from getting anymore damage that it had already sustained. The poor man tossed and tumbled over the rough surface of the cemented ground. His soft, tender and not to mention almost baby-like butt had already started to blister from all the friction. Although the morphine that he took earlier helped suppress the pain, getting back on his legs to walk was a whole another monster.

The fact that the helmed man kept a crude hold of Fran’s shirt while the injured pirate struggled didn’t make anything easy for the both of them. One was dragging the other while the other was desperately trying to stand; it was like looking right and left at the same time, or at least that was what Fran thought. The afro haired navigator knew he didn’t do anything remotely wrong to deserve this kind of treatment now did he? So why was he being towed all the way from the drug store? It didn’t make any sense, then again, whatever that overly dressed guy was thinking, Fran didn’t want to know.

After a few hundred steps unto the whole ordeal, Fran finally got both his legs in working order. The odd duo made it past the marines and to the dock. And true enough, they almost didn’t encounter any marine recruits on the way to the docks. The concentration of the law enforcers were at the opposite direction, which left the other dock completely open. Fran grinned, he saw a familiar face in the docks, the dock master a.k.a. the owner. The short, hairy man was red in the face and was stomping the wooden floorings every few seconds while muttering words of hate towards the people responsible for ‘destroying’ his docks.

Just then, a cold, almost expressionless voice dropped on Fran. “Can you sail?” The navigator immediately turned to the voice, it was his companion. “Can I sail?” remarked Fran as he sent the very same questions unto his brain that very moment. He took about a whole minute before he answered, “Yeah sure I can.” But what he really meant was ‘Yeah sure I can, probably, maybe, I think so... yeah I could do that...’ The only reason he wasn’t able to say those words was the nagging feeling that he’d get killed by the person in front of him, Clover.

The young pirate then broke out of his hiding. He was now feeling a bit better, his vision was steady and his legs were alive once more. He puffed his chest proudly as he confronted the enraged dock master. The shorter man instantly recognized Fran; he was the only man who’d wear a pink shirt and a ridiculous smile in the whole island. The furious man pointed an accusing finger at the navigator while he marched and roared toward his direction. Annoyed, Fran reached for the man’s finger and twisted it until the dock master pleaded in tears. Contented, the afro pirate then kicked the stocky man into a nearby post which knocked him unconscious.

Once on board, Fran scurried to set the sails and lift the anchor; basic knowledge to sailing at it’s finest. But after that Fran stood still in front of the steering wheels. His hands were locked on the wooden shaft as if he was waiting for something to happen, minutes pass but still nothing. Fran crossed his brows, “Why aren’t we sailing?”

Ominous dark clouds stirred atop of the famous island where people of every stature came by to restock on supplies, be it normal people, pirates, bounty hunters or marines. The wind also began to pick up as the waves started to form over the harbour. The water began to rock back and forth as if they were waiting for something to happen. As the gust of wind grew more intense, so did the waves that crashed unto the sides of the Paw Print. The lone navigator tilted his head upwards, he knew this pattern all too well, and a storm is coming.
Fran C. 'Bull-Skull' OsgraveArtisan 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
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Shamma
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no fun
[ *  *  *  * ]
Beneath the mask she was hardly content with the answer of the buffoon, glaring at him through the helmet as if anticipating some guilt-driven confession about his inability to sail and lack of positives in general. Wishful thinking it seemed, her piercing stare not effecting Fran's stature so much as the pesky dock-owner piled all his hatred onto the pink shirt pirate. The sniper stopped watching when the cry-baby strangely didn't burst into tears after some criticism and missed his handling of the man as she jumped on-board of the Paw Print.

Awful. Clover was drawn instantly to the shoddy workmanship of Allen and Fran when putting out the fire. They had torn up part of the deck for whatever reason; she guessed they did it purely to add to the damage caused since men were so inclined to do the exact opposite of helpful in nearly every situation. Already the pair had dipped below the five grunts in utility though sadly the quintet had ceased to live the day before. At least the male who topped the uses list was efficient; the markswoman paused to blush at the thoughts. Subsequently her mood improved enough to move on from the abomination that had been created in preventing the fire.

Strangely Clover chose to leave Fran to his own devices, though there was reason to her methods. If he could sail, he could sail alone according to her absolutes in operating; Galles had managed it. Even if Fran wasn't even a hundredth of the man her azure-eyed crush was, he could make a fair effort. If he couldn't sail, his obvious lie would be on show for all; a calamitous blunder considering her poor temper that was already on its limit after the overdose episode. She was at least glad the cry-baby had been able to recover quickly from his mis-use of drugs; recovery seemed to be his single strength.

Instead she walked down the stairwell of the ship, pulling the door closed behind her as Fran got to 'sailing'. Not willing to repeat her previous mistake, the markswoman stepped around the discarded bullets and only bent down to gather them up once her feet were firmly placed on the floor. They had come in a small bag, she held it up to the dim light of the corridor and gazed at the sack. A present for him; the sniper smiled to herself as she dropped the gift into her cloak pockets before walking carefully through the ship till she reached her own room.

She moved first to the desk, eyes drifting across the various wanted posters she had pinned up to memorise. She found the posters for the azure-eyed wonder and his captain next to one another; beside the 'Totally Weak' Kishin who had numerous graffiti marks on the picture, a light-hearted gag if not for the bolt placed firmly between the eyes of the illustration. Silently she tugged down the poster, moving to the next and doing the same till she had them all in a pile. They were incriminating if anyone so much a dared wander into her personal area; she couldn't scare them all away with one mistake, it would be a disaster. She placed them all in one of her bags, gathering other random junk discarded on the desk and putting it all on top to hide the posters.

Satisfied, Clover turned to the small shelf holding various bolts built in her spare time from scraps of metal she had scavenged from all over the ship. She replenished her supply of piercing bolts, they were the most depleted of the lot, and then turned to leave her room.

At the doorway she stopped dead. Something wasn't quite right; she had been beneath deck for a good few minutes already but... Clover glared at a glass of water that had been beside her bed; no movement from the liquid... They hadn't moved an inch!

"So he is a liar..." The sniper muttered. There was a certain lack of surprise to her tone. With such low expectations for Fran she could not be caught off guard when he blundered. Expectations set after knowing the man for little over an hour. She could not imagine what a day, let alone a week would be like. Maybe they simply tied him up against something and let him amuse himself? The picture of the navigator tied to a pole all on his own drew a sadistic smile from her lips, as did drawing Quadsong from her hip and loading a set of bolts into the weapon.

Clover moved back towards the steps, considering how best to punish liars without ruining him altogether; lest Galles be sad with her and not accept the gift of ammunition. She wouldn't know how to take that... the ship jerked beneath her feet, her usually balanced posture being unsettled by the suddenness of it. Now she was truly surprised, had Fran managed to move the vessel? The more likely option was another boat hitting theirs, more idiots to kill. But she couldn't discover the answer to her questions so soon, the ship not stopping as it tugged one way and then the other as if doing its best to throw her to the floor. Clover stubbornly refused, placing her weight against the walls and gripping the railing as she clambered up the stairs and back onto deck.

Emerging into the open world, the sniper became aware that her two solutions were both incorrect. No ship had hit theirs, yet. And Fran wasn't sailing, yet. The sky had grown dark and turbulent in the short time she had been beneath deck, a harsh wind hitting them from the town side and the resultant waves causing the ship to be so unsettled. Still, even with her slow expectations, Clover had anticipated Fran being able to keep the Paw Print steady in such frenzied waters. It couldn't be that hard. Turning her gaze up at the raised area where the wheel was, she attempted to shout something but her words were out done in volume by the loud crack of thunder.

Wave after wave of rain followed the initial crack, the sea mimicking the air by raising its waves higher and higher against the side of the Paw Print. Instinct kicked in on Clovers part, her cybernetic legs ejecting the various hooks on her feet to grip the deck beneath firmly. With her hands she clasped onto the frame of the doorway, throwing her weight against the wall by it to stop herself falling with the increasing motion. The sniper had never been aboard a ship during a storm, she wasn't particularly keen to experience it either; already feeling queasy.

The wind was toying with them already as the storm built up, they had already escaped the grip of the pier and were being blown where the strong gusts chose; narrowly avoiding a collision with other vessels as the Paw Print was blown out of the docks and onto the open seas; ravished by wave after wave as the noble helmsman struggled to gain control.
Piper • Pirate • Martial Artist/Weapon Specialist • Hot RocketsBounty: 343,000,000 • SD Earned: 881 • Beli: 259,500,000 • Location: Raijin Island

Jija Juju • Marine • Inventor/Marksman/Scholar/Doctor • FioreRank: Rear Admiral • SD Earned: 579 • Beli: 188,000,000 • Location: Couture Island, Grand Line

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Versesai
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Cipher Pol 0 Leader
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OOC


Galles had fought the good fight with his body until now, the rum taking away his pain and the presences taking his mental focus, allowing him to handle this better. But now, now he had to stop. His body was shutting down system by system and, slowly numbing everything. The blood loss was stopped, but the previous damage was done and he needed to rest, even though he valiantly struggled against it as if his life depended on it. His fingers twitched inside the gauze as he finally slumped back onto the bed, head resting on the pillow now.

The stench of blood didn't bother him anymore, but he still couldn't help but feel useless. There was no point in resting now, they weren't safe...But there was nothing he could do. No magic remedy to get him better and out of bed. Even if he did spring his way across the room and just randomly bounce until he got outside like he was considering, there was no point to it and nothing to be gained by performing such a silly and self-damaging act.

Instead he finally gave in. His eyes, even though they'd stopped really working a while ago, fell closed and he curled up against the bed, ignoring how heavy his clothing and weapons felt on him and how horrible his body actually felt. The rum numbed the pain enough to let him pass out and that was precisely what he did. Just before it however, he smiled in his sleep and one singular thought came to his mind.

'Next time I go eat, I'm ordering Crab.'
Ovae Sevault Dachrinne • Doctor/Weapon Specialist • This Man's A Doctor • No IdeaBounty: ::beli:: 5,000,000 • SD Earned: 77 • Beli: ::beli:: 16,700,000 • Location: God Only Knows.

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gonzo v. nemo
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[ * ]
As Allan told Nemo "We're heading out to a safe distance, then we're going to be waiting for my friend, then once he's out here we'll be heading off to our next location that has yet to be determined," Nemo then squatted down to lean against the mast, and Bya laid down and curled up beside him. He then looked over, with the felling of pain in his eyes and said. “Dude did that tank hit you to?” Bya just looked back up at him in a “what are you talking about.” type of look.

Nemo just laid back cool sea air on his skin, and the gentle rocking of the boat. He then looked up to the clouds seeing if he could make out anything, while at the same time trying not to move. All of a sudden he spotted a cloud with a nice jagged hole in it. Nemo instantly sat up as he groaned loudly from the pain when he then turned to bya, who lifted his head up and cocked it in a “whats wrong” type of fashion. Nemo then said “I wounder if Allan Sai knows about the whole in the boat, that didn’t fixed” Bya’s eyes widened as nemo and Bya both scrambled to there feet painfully quick and ran over to Allan to explain the situation.
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
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Drifter
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Hail Hydrift
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The Carpenter watched the seas still, trying to see if he could find the Paw Print, something caught his attention, well a couple of things anyways. Firstly, the wind was starting to pick up around their location, meaning that the sails would be picking up more wind and making them go faster, to his dismay. Secondly, the waves were starting to pick up around them, becoming larger and larger as the vessel started to rock along with the waves as the water waves started rising more and more with every passing moment.

The sky was the Carpenter's final clue as to what was going on. The clouds themselves were becoming more and more dark as each wave moved. They were ominously shaped, and soon a small crack of thunder was more of a clue as to what was going on in the skies. "Storm brewing," the Carpenter mumbled to himself, as he reached up to his glasses, sliding them off and into his pocket. If it was going to rain soon, then there was no need to have sunglasses while it was happening.

Running a hand through his hair, the Captain looked out once more to the pier, trying to get one last glance at the row of ships to spot the Paw Print. This time when he looked he saw a ship start heading out of reach of the pier, a ship was jutting out from the line of ships, and also almost hitting other ships that were coming its way. The Carpenter tried looking at the ship, before realizing that the ship wasn't exactly being steered right, though it had been moving. And even while it was heading towards the area near the Showman Ship, the Martial Artist started to see a familiar color scheme to the ship, and some burnt wood on the deck of the vessel. "It must be Fran and 'Boss'!" He yelled out, before a wave shook the whole vessel this time, as they were becoming even stronger than they had been.

"I've gotta keep this thing steady and make sure we don't hit their ship," Allen said, starting to walk towards the ladder that would take him up to the wheel of the ship. Along the way Nemo and Bya ran up to him, something urgent was in their appearance, the man thought. Before they started talking, something loud sounded from down the staircase that led to the basement that Nemo and Bya had been in. Down there, the wood was starting to break and crack, and unless something was done soon, it would threaten to take the whole ship down with a giant gap that would be full of water soon.

As the ship shook again from that and another wave, Allen called out to the two as he still headed for the ladder, "You two, go check that out! Hopefully it'll be nothing overly bad! If something's cracking, I hope you two can seal it up! I'll keep the boat steady! Now go! He yelled out, now stepping into a dash for the ladder so he could try and steady the ship more.

Soon the man was climbing up the ladder that had first taken him to the steering wheel. Taking a few step-jumps, he was at the wheel in a matter of moments, where he grabbed on with both hands and started to turn the boat some, so that the Showman Boat and the Paw Print could be close when they were getting out of the area. Hopefully by now, the Paw Print would be able to recognize the Showman Ship and maybe Allen if one of them had good eye-sight, and hopefully as well the newcomer and his pet thing were fixing whatever had made the noise below deck.
ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ #AtLeastItAin'tAids ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ

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Demolition King is Back Baby

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Nary
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Artsy Lurker
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Fran stood quite still even though he knew that he might be rocked off the boat if the wind grew any stronger that it already had. With his left hand placed firmly on the stirring wheel, the navigator calmly assed where the wind was blowing and how quickly it would go; and despite his ‘not so convincing’ physical appearance, Fran was quite a capable navigator. A mild gust of wind blew onto the Paw Print’s sails. The sails puffed up almost instantly and the boat’s mighty sails ballooned proudly as it jump started the vessel off the docks.

The gloomy clouds soared high above the cowering island of Loguetown. As the wind slowly grew into a gale, the clouds cultivated itself into darker and much denser. Thunder boomed with flashes of light emanating through the clouds. The storm was slowly building up its strength; like a step by step exhibition of what is to come.

The ugly looking deck of the Paw Print still smelled burnt; a clear sign of the rush job Fran and Allen had done to keep the whole ship from sinking. But it didn’t matter; they had done what needed to be done in order to quickly douse the fire. Fran also commended what his captain had done: throw away burning planks of wood so the fire would not spread. Fran shuddered. The deck was missing pieces of timber, and it was just about to rain like crazy. There’s practically a hole on deck! If the storm spew out rain, chances are, it’d accumulate on the bottom and sink the boat. Once again Lady Luck had shunned Fran away.

As the Paw Print’s pace quickened, it was almost a miracle that they sailed in a straight line. But Fran had more pressing matters in hand; he needed to patch up the deck to prevent it from sinking. He looked up into the sky, he had estimated that he had roughly about four minutes or less to seal the holes before all hell breaks loose. With his harpoon, the navigator locked the steering wheels in place. Fran looked around and saw the helmed man against the doorway. Though Fran couldn’t see the man’s face, he had a funny feeling that the man Galles had brought was less that happy to see him on the wheels. Next Fran saw the tools Allen had left scattered on the floor: A hammer and a few boxes of nails, now all Fran needed were some planks of wood.

Hurriedly, the pink wearing pirate sped off and grabbed the hammer. Once he had secured the tool, he wobbled his way up to the cabin entrance, with the hammer’s ‘claw’ Fran plucked out the nails to get the plank off the wall. Just then he remembered that he didn’t have access to his other arm. Working with one arm was kinda hard, so he immediately asked for some assistance to the only other person on board, Clover, the helmed ‘man’.

“Yo, masked dude, help take this plank of wood out would ya?” For a second, Fran could have sworn that he could feel a crossbow was right on his face as he asked the question. But as he turned his head around there wasn’t one. Funny, thought Fran, he then decided to explain his actions; it was for the better, in a LOT of ways. “So, earlier the captain decided to yank out the pieces of burning wood so that the deck would catch fire any further, it was genius really, I couldn’t have thought of such an ingenious method.” The navigator paused as he knew he was going off track, “And.... now we have a few little holes on the deck, and if you didn’t already notice, a storm is brewing and unless we patch things up, we’re gonna sink.”

OOC

Edited by Nary, May 17 2010, 06:04 AM.
Fran C. 'Bull-Skull' OsgraveArtisan 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
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Shamma
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no fun
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Meant to be rounding off SL, not prolonging. ._.))

The sea had always been at ease when the markswoman chose to sail. Whether on a sunny day or overcast clouds, the water did not tend to make the effort to deter her from riding its waves; not even the odd harsh current had affected her before. Three days, the longest amount of time she had ever spent on a ship, had been calm and almost dull to the point where Clover actually considered death by boredom to be the greater threat than drowning. The waters weren't boring in a storm. The darkening air and sea seemed to take great pleasure in battering the Paw Print as it made the awkward path out to sea, an indirect karma based punishment for the very unseaworthy sniper. She clung to the doorway firmly and felt as if she would heave at the next jerk of the boat.

She was very stubborn though. A trait shown by the bitter pursuit of her disguise even in the most desperate of occasions; it would appear weak to give into the demands of her body; especially in the presence of the cry baby. The cry baby who managed to struggle across the deck towards her whilst she could only cling to the doorway. Clover couldn't stand it, an inferior was able to stand against the storm so why not she? The markswoman tensed her gut and let go off the entrance, stepping forward onto the damp floor with her spiked feet. The Paw Print decided to test her new found desire to defy the ocean, swaying to the left than straight to the right again; the cybernetic legs kept their grip on the deck. Beneath the helmet was a combination of grit teeth and piercing eyes, they watched Fran grimly as he decided to drive the end of a hammer into the wall. He couldn't even use a hammer correctly; everyone knew you hit nails with the flat end.

Clover raised an eye when he did the opposite, plucking a nail from the board. An urge grew to shoot him then and there for daring to vandalise her ship, though he spoke too quickly and her murderous intent was interrupted. His first request earned a shake of the head too subtle to be shown by her metal headgear. His explanation earned a pause of silence as the markswoman accessed the situation. Her solution was simple; Quadsong rose from her and fired a single bolt into the plank Fran had been attempting to remove.

"Stay there." The sniper commanded, turning her back on Fran and taking a step further onto the deck. The free hand moved to the bottom edge of the helmet, the markswoman inhaling as she predicted the probability of the Navigator moving after her clear demand. The bolt would be enough; it would only take a second. She lifted the helmet to her forehead.

Clover coolly exhaled as she cast her eyes on a new world. The iron barriers were gone. She was free to exam the picture before her in slow detail as if time had been lifted with her helm. They had really ruined her stolen prize, the blackened wood and missing pieces of deck were all the more apparent from her enlightened view, the raindrops casting a slow patter around the points of anomalies, but as stated by the clumsy Fran; they were invading it too. Water was gathering in what she suspected were the former swordswoman's quarters and storage, though Clover didn't really understand how this was a problem straight away. Merely that the Navigator had been desperate enough to defile her boat before her eyes to prevent it.

Next she sought out a solution to their woes, eyes drifting across the scene to rest on a long storing chest next to the railings. Whilst her knowledge of ships was poor, her greedy nature had led to the sniper searching every nook and cranny for things of value. The storing chest lacked value but did hold something that would stop the water.

Problem and solution analysed in a matter of seconds, the sniper began to close her helm to the world once more. The open world was so much nicer in comparison, thus her senses were desperate to absorb as much information before being chained up again. Her cheeks enjoyed the damp specks of rain that had struck them; the salty smell of sea was that much better without the hint of iron. And her eyes caught a glance of the ship ahead. Upon it a figure she recognised from his bounty poster and short time in his presence. So they had gotten away without her help...

The helmet snapped shut. Her green scarf and emerald scarf no longer flowed in the winds, instead Clover sprang into action. Crossing the Paw Print seemed that bit easier when she had a plan, each step not slowed by the rocking of the boat as the storm refused to surrender. She refused too. Distance travelled, the sniper crouched to flick across the bolt that had held the chest shut in the gales and motion. She raised its lid to reveal her solution to the problem; the spare sails of the Paw Print.

The harsh winds took effect even as she pulled out the rolled up replacement, the markswoman having to use one hand to hold down the sail whilst lifting up Quadsong again. She had measured it out in her mind whilst walking across the deck and lined up the sail with the area of damage. Not caring so much for the condition of her anti-rain device, two bolts were placed in the two corners of the sail to hold it against the deck as she rolled out the rest over the holes. Once the offending gaps were covered, she repeated the action on the other side to hold down the sail. The remaining three bolts were also used to ensure the wind would not prevail.

Rather than turn to receive her appraisals from the Navigator, Clover was quite certain he had been stunned by her genius and would shower her with rejoicing and compliments if she even cast an eye on him, the sniper looked to the boat that had got even closer during her actions. Thankfully the larger ship had been steered to avoid a collision with the Paw Print, she could observe it without fear of having her stolen vessel act as a battering ram once again. Instead the markswoman looked for the one who mattered but found him missing. Only Allen was there, had something happened?
Piper • Pirate • Martial Artist/Weapon Specialist • Hot RocketsBounty: 343,000,000 • SD Earned: 881 • Beli: 259,500,000 • Location: Raijin Island

Jija Juju • Marine • Inventor/Marksman/Scholar/Doctor • FioreRank: Rear Admiral • SD Earned: 579 • Beli: 188,000,000 • Location: Couture Island, Grand Line

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gonzo v. nemo
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[ * ]
As Allan tells them to go fix the noise they look at each other, and nemo just responded. “ok!” they turned toward the door, they had earlier come up from, and ran toward it as Bya looks up to Nemo with an expression of. “No! You couldn’t have fixed the hole like those nutcases wanted you to. No you just had to patronize them the whole time.” When another wave hit the boat, knocking Nemo off his feet right on his chest. The pain from the blow filled his mind. He then remembered the hole, and pushed himself back up. He then looked back to bya, and said. “Oh I see how it goes. My comment and I get hurt. Your comment and I get hurt.” Bya just smiles. Nemo instantly responds. “Oh wipe that smile off your face.”

They finally reach the door, and Nemo opens it saying. “Ok smart ass you go down first. That way if I go down again I’ll roll down right on top of you.” Bya just looks up with a look of. “You would say that you coward.” As he rushes down the stars. Nemo running close behind hands bracing him against the walls, in case another strong wave hit. He really didn’t want to do summersaults down the staircase after all. He then looked down to Bya, noticing how easy it was for him to take the waves and the rolling of the ship. he then called down. “Ya just walk down these stairs on those hind legs of yours and then we’ll see how you take these waves.”

they then made there way to the tools and lumber, as Bya looked up with a curious “How are we gonna do this.” look. Nemo just replied. “I wish I knew.” They then carried what they needed to the hole. Nemo began inspecting the growing damage, when a large wave hit the hole knocking them both back several feet. Nemo yelled to Bya. “We better get this this done quick. I don’t know how much more abuse this boat or us can take.” They braced themselves for the waves that were coming in every so often. They then proceeded to do a quick fix that could last at least a couple days in a storm like this, while constantly getting beat by the waves and wind. When another large wave hit the hole knocking a beam they were working on right back, pining Nemo too the ground. Bya looked back to Nemo lying there on the ground, then roared back to him with the intent of “Get off your lazy ass and get back here.” as Nemo struggled to get the beam off his chest finally getting it. they both then finished the patch job to the hole.

After finishing the job, both Nemo and Bya looked at each other. Nemo saying. “Ya I get it dude the wave soaks me, and I look like a wet dog. It hits you and your feathers shine.” As Bya just smiles. they both head back up the to the deck to tell Allan that all is clear, for the time being at least. Nemo going a bit slower from the beating he took.as he tells Bya. “Just go on ahead of me. I‘ll be up in a second.”
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
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Drifter
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Hail Hydrift
[ *  *  *  * ]
Wind battering, storm ensuing still, Allen held onto the wheel of the ship, making sure to keep it as steady as possible to make sure that it wouldn't hit the Paw Print, though the storm tried to make it so that the two ships would collide. Unfortunately for the force of nature, the Artisan Captain wasn't going to give up without a fight. Steering the ship to be as straight as can be, the two ships thankfully did not collide at all, though the hole in the ship didn't help out the situation all that much at the moment.

The waves made it harder for it to steer, and it lost speed as it went, though Allen could tell when Nemo was finally able to fix up the ship, because it was easier to steer and such. Assuming that there was a hole in the ship, Allen assumed the Newcomer was or had some knowledge of being a Carpenter, like himself. He could be a valuable asset if there was something on a ship that needed to be addressed, and two Carpenters could take care of it quickly.

As the wind started to have a time where it wasn't trying to disrupt the ship as much, the Captain was able to look at the Paw Print to see how it was fairing in the storm... And apparently, it wasn't well. There was, from the man's angle through the storm and everything, a few small holes in the ship down below the... giant hole in the deck that he still needed to fix soon... Before the Armored Helmeted man would leave, he'd have to do that, to make it up to the guy for what had happened after all. He watched the man move, and then he spotted a pink shirted man on board the vessel as well. It was Fran! The man had helped out the Navigator after all! And he seemed to be a-oka-

What the hell happened to his arm!?!?!?!? The Martial Artist wasn't sure as to why the man was missing an arm, though he hoped and prayed that it was a good reason, or he would seriously go back and at least beat up whoever had chopped off the man's arm, just to show that no one could mess with his friends like that. But, he had more pressing matters to attend too, like making sure that they would all get out of this alive, though he was fairly certain that they would be fine in the end, he just had to stay focused on everything.

So far, casualties from Loguetown included Fran, Galles, and himself to an extent, though Galles and Fran were the worst off from what he's seen. He just needed them to survive til the next island, where he would get them Doctors and things to get them anything else they would need. Now he noticed that the Armored Man was looking at him, probably wondering where his 'worker' was at. Though he wasn't sure they could hear over the storm, he yelled out to him "Galles is hurt! He's in the infirmary for now! Let's get out of this storm for now and then we'll help them both out!" He called, referring to helping Fran out as well.

Final Round
ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ #AtLeastItAin'tAids ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ

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Nary
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OOC


Basic logic told Fran that if there was no enemy, he wouldn’t be shot at. And it does hold some credit to it. Besides, Fran should know with his kind of luck, he could be shot almost anywhere. So far, the pink wearing pirate had already been, stabbed (by injection needles), hacked, slashed, trashed and been dragged almost halfway around Louguetown by a masked tin head with a temper as hot as that of the desert blaze. A blazing temper, something Fran was just about to experience firsthand.

A single bolt sliced through with a low whizzing sound, the projectile ran so fast that Fran was so sure that it had magically appeared inches away from his only functioning hand. The afro pirate’s eyes widen in both shock and disbelief. He could not help to show signs of bewilderment all over his face. The masked guy had just magically produced a piece of bolt on the wooden plank Fran had tried so hard to yank out. The bolt had nailed the plank so deep that it was quite impossible for the injured navigator to dislodge it in the poor state he was in.

Of course, Fran was upset about the bolt stuck unto the very plank that could potentially save the ship. “What the hell did yo-“, suddenly, Fran’s rant was cut short by the masked man’s low, almost growling voice. The navigator had detected a hint of anger and frustration between the gaps of each letter he had said.

“Stay.”

The man might have been one of those ‘A man of a few words’ type of guys, come to think of it, there were only a handful of times that Fran could recall where he heard the tin-head actually spoke in a whole sentence. Besides that, he seemed to favor to say one word at a time. Strangely enough, Fran could seem to understand what single worded sentences meant. But it didn’t surprise the navigator at all, since there was once a crew mate back in his days with Captain Strawbeard that told him true men only needed one word to communicate with each other, a very powerful language that connects men from across the four blues. And this man might be one of them.

Although there was something Fran could be happy about, he was not pleased with how he was treated, ‘Stay? What am I a dog?’ Those were the first words that crossed his mind. Fran had openly admitted that while he had limited knowledge in ship building and repairs, what he did was for the welfare of the boat and both their lives. And to think that it was such an inventive approach to the problem at hand, he was simply recycling. The cabin was only going to worth so much if the whole boat sunk to the depths of Davy Jones’ locker room.

Instead of explain his actions, the enigmatic crossbow wielding, bucket wearing man went towards the alleged hole and examined it. From afar, Fran could clearly see everything, even though visibility was growing thinner by the minute as the blackened clouds kicked it up a notch. The man was looking for something that much was obvious, and whatever it was, it had to be of some importance since he had to lift his helmet so that he could locate it.

After a while, the mysterious man had produced what seemed to be the boat’s extra sails. What he did with it though, Fran wasn’t able to notice since another thing stole his attention. Not far from where they were was another ship, at first Fran thought it might be trouble since the marines might have caught on with them. After all, there were those persistent types that never know when to give up. But upon closer inspection, a familiar face spear headed the ship, Allen! It was the silver haired captain of the Artisans, and from the looks of it, he made it out fairly well. But then the question begged, where are the others?

Allen steered his boat towards the Paw Print and steadied it so that both Fran and the helmed guy could easily jump over. Well at least that was how Fran saw it. The Paw Print was already a mess, so why bother keeping it? Besides, Allen’s boat looked so much bigger and bigger was always better. Immediately, the injured Fran stepped on the wooden railings of the boat and miraculously balanced himself despite of the constant rocking courtesy of the unrelenting waves and unfaltering torrent g the mighty seas.

Once Allen’s ship was aligned with the Paw Print, Fran immediately jumped over to the other ship, without much thought on his landing. And as usual, Fran found it the hard way to land on his back, bottom and on his chest. The pink rolling ball of doom rolled all the way until he crashed miserably onto the thick wooden surface of the boats mast. His right arm which was slinged in front of him bore the full brunt of the damage sustained. Even though the navigator was on drugs, the pain that it produced was too much for him as he ultimately passed out with a weird facial expression that mixed a happy grin and a painful gritted teeth.
Fran C. 'Bull-Skull' OsgraveArtisan 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
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Shamma
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no fun
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Help... both?

The silver haired 'Captain' appeared to misjudge her again. That he had regrown a backbone to try and command her would have been remarkable if she didn't suspect that he had traded his brain for it. Or it was just a horrible misunderstanding on his part; she could accept anyone seeing her save another meant she cared for them. It wasn't the case with the buffoon though, once the package was delivered and praise of her chosen reaped; Fran could bleed to death for all she cared. At least, that was how it went in her mind; but today had been far too odd for her to be certain of any outcome.

Clover was certain she could skip out on the order Allen suggested though. Galles was obvious more important than whatever he wanted. If anything, he was trying to cover it up! The azure-eyed man’s injuries were probably the product of some poor decisions made by his Captain in the heat of battle. The hidden glare grew colder beneath its iron veil, effectively tying all the blame to Allen for Galles’ mosfortune. Fran could soldier on and keep her boat steady whilst she attended to her favourite.

"Stay on the bo-" The markswoman had started her command before turning. However, once her eyes fell on Fran, it seemed like a bad decision altogether. In a move that could only be the product of his own stupidity, the navigator jumped ships, rolled and clattered into the mast. And then he remained completely still. Clover was stunned. How did she react to that? His display was remarkable for all the wrong reasons but also incredibly infuriating. The hand holding Quadsong tensed its grip on the weapon, not bothering with the sequence of raising the crossbow and shooting Fran as it was out of ammo. Instead she decided on a simpler method of portraying her dissatisfaction.

"Idiot."

He had done more than look dumb; he had doomed her to the sequence suggested by Allen. Never waking up would be a blessing considering the grim pay-back she was planning already.

The Paw Print jerked again, shaking the markswoman from her sadistic thoughts. She recalled the order fate and Fran had doomed her to follow; escape the storm. The question of how took over. She had never sailed a boat singlehandedly and was not fond of abandoning everything she had on board of the vessel. Assuming it was just the two of them active on both ships, Allen would be unable to jump from his to fix her problems. They needed to attach their boats somehow, and then he could handle the sea-storm alone... Spare ropes. Clover glanced back to the chest she had opened; Paw had kept the spare sails with the spare ropes for obvious reasons. She walked calmly back over to the container and found her desired object lying at the bottom. It was thick, meant for holding up sails, so she was confident it would hold. The Paw Print's sails hadn't collapsed after all. Quickly she returned back to the edge closest to Allen.

"Catch!" She called to the Captain, not caring for any sympathies he might be expressing for Fran. Her stuff was more important. She hurled the rope directly at him, leasing plenty of the long cord between the ships so he could move it freely on his end. Clover was confident he was just a fraction more competent than the navigator, tying her end to the front of the Paw Print so the larger ship could tow the smaller. It made sense to her that way, the larger sails made them go faster in her mind. Going side by side would probably cause some calamity eventually. It was the only op-

Her nose twitched as a drop of rain leaked through her helmet. Involuntarily she sneezed and felt the horrible conditions embrace her with their various ailments. The water was freezing and her excessive amount of layers did little to fight off the feeling once they were soaked through. Clover sneezed again, and then began to shiver as a sharp wind swept by her. A single moment of self-pity also brought back her nausea and general hatred of storms. The boats sways grew more unbearable, as did her sneezed. Naturally she raised a hand to her nose only to find the helmet in the way; her mask was really quite unpractical. If not for her legs being cybernetic and thus far more stable, she might have fallen over. The sniper didn’t want to test how long she could last though, glancing back over her shoulder towards the protection of below deck.

The sniper was meek in retreat, pulling back to the doorway and sitting down beside it. It provided little protection from the wind and rain but her spot was already chosen. Men didn't fear storms was a classic sailor bluff, she couldn't afford to do the sensible thing and go below deck. Unfortunately she could only rely on others to pull her out of this mess, others being the silver haired ‘Captain’ who was so useless at fixing ships and making orders. Clover groaned and lowered her head. His track record was awful; they were all going to die horribly.
Piper • Pirate • Martial Artist/Weapon Specialist • Hot RocketsBounty: 343,000,000 • SD Earned: 881 • Beli: 259,500,000 • Location: Raijin Island

Jija Juju • Marine • Inventor/Marksman/Scholar/Doctor • FioreRank: Rear Admiral • SD Earned: 579 • Beli: 188,000,000 • Location: Couture Island, Grand Line

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gonzo v. nemo
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As bya gets to the door he then stops, as he looks out and sees all the new people on the deck. He then stops looks down to Nemo. Nemo seeing this just looks up and asks. “what’s up?” Bya just gives the look of “we got more people.” Nemo just looks down shaking his head, as he finishes making his way up the stairs. he then looks out the door, still soaking wet, he couldn’t help but look around. then said. “Damn! things are getting interesting, arn’t they.” Bya just nodded.

They then look over to the still unconscious Zark then over to the mime, then back to Zark. as Nemo smiled and said. “That mime looks dead to me but I wonder if any one knows Zark is just out cold? Oh well that man is paralyzed from the chest down plus the wounds he‘ll be easy work if he wakes up.” as Bya just looks at Nemo then back to Zark. Nemo said. “I wonder what he’d do if when he woke up he was tied up to the mast while we were using that mime friend of his as bait and then told him he was next.”

Nemo then spotted a strange pink mass and noticed that it was a new unconscious man on the deck slammed up agents the mast. he then walked over to him to check him out, when he decided to take him in with the other unconscious guy, and get him out of the bad weather.

OCC
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
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Drifter
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Hail Hydrift
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As the stormed seemed to die down slightly, the Captain saw something that made his heart skip a beat in fear: Fran attempted to jump across from boat to boat in order to get on the Showman Ship to be with the rest of the crew. "FRAN!!!" He yelled out, making sure that the boat would be somewhat steady before letting go of the wheel and basically jumping down most of the ladder before getting down to the deck, as his eyes followed Fran's epic fail of a roll into the mast.

Running up to the man, the Captain was extremely happy to find that the Unlucky Navigator was still breathing, and his arm was... slightly better than he thought it was... Though it did look nasty as hell in it's current condition. As the Martial Artist adjusted Fran so that he was sitting up against the mast for a moment, he noticed the man's odd expression on his face as he seemed to be passed out from pain. The creepy grin seemed to give Allen hope that he would be alright after all, seeing as he had survived so much as an Artisan Member already, and hopefully the crew would survive much more together since they were wh-

They had forgotten Benjie. The Carpenter's eyes widened for a moment at the crazy train of loss thought went through his head, before he somehow forced himself to calm down: He was sure that the Barber had gotten away from the Showmen fight, and was probably somewhere off in Loguetown right now, trying to give a man a shave while trying to seduce his girl and steal his wallet. Yeah, that sounded like the Barber all right. But just as his thoughts about his lost crew member ended, he looked over to the Paw Print to see how the man over there had been holding up.

"Catch!" He heard slightly over the rain and thunder as he saw the Armored Helmeted man start throwing something towards the Showman Ship. Jumping up, the man made a dash for the object, grabbing onto it just before it fell right into the ocean below, though the grab for it made his body hurt, though he forced himself to keep going on to make sure that the crew would be okay in the storm. He hadn't shown himself to be a great leader of the Artisans so far, and he was determined to change that as he stood up, finally realizing what the item was: Rope. He looked up to see that 'Boss' had already tied his end to the front of the Paw Print, and he was expecting Allen to do the same to the back of the Showman Ship.

Gripping the object, he heard some slight footsteps as he looked over to see the Newcomer and his pet thingy coming up towards Fran, examining him before they probably would move to help out the man. "Hey, if you could take Fran, the guy whose passed out at the mast, into the Infirmary with Galles, but place him on another bed, and... see what you can do about that arm of his..." The Captain yelled to him, before tightening his grip on the rope and heading towards the back of the boat.

Luckily for him, the back of the boat could be reached from the deck, as he walked around to the back of it, holding onto the railing to make sure that he wouldn't slip and fall, though that almost happened at least once, maybe twice if you counted it. Once he was to the back though, he took the soggy rope and tied it into a knot to make sure that it'd be fine to keep attached to the Paw Print and the Showman ship. He tied it the way Stone had showed him how to a number of years ago, though he couldn't dwell on the thoughts before he headed back to the deck so that he could steer the ship the rest of the way out of the storm.

He soon was at the ladder, seeing the end of a tail walking into the Infirmary, before heading up the ladder once he knew that the Newcomer was taking care of his Navigator. He walked up to the wheel of the ship, making sure that all was okay and that the Paw Print was now behind them, and continued steering the ship to make sure that it would survive the storm, along with his crew and the Cross-Bow wielder on the other ship.

The Artisan Captain did learn something from defeating Maxwell, though:

True Artists Never Show-Off about their abilities and their crew. Ever.

Fin
ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ #AtLeastItAin'tAids ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ

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The Unspeakable
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FallenDrifter (Allen Sai) - 40 SD, 10M Beli
Nary (Fran C. Osgrave) - 36 SD, 9M Beli
Wayne (Benjamin Hurd)- 21 SD, 1.25M Beli
Shamma (Clover Soto) - 38 SD, 9.5M Beli
Versesai (Galles I. Ralyem) - 33 SD, 8.25M Beli
Gonzo v. Nemo (Nemo) - 20 SD, 5M Beli

Galles, Clover, Fran, and Allen all have their bounties increased by 2,000,000 for assault, murder, endangerment of the public, and connection with 'The Loguetown Massacre'. Their posters are distributed across East Blue with extreme haste.

Nemo and Benjamin also receive bounty increases of 750,000 each, for their lesser connection with 'The Loguetown Massacre'.

Because of desertion, 4M of Ben's earnings are given to the "Crew Fund". Please subtract your own upkeeps. CBF mates.

Providence grants you a pair of Baby Den-Den Mushis. Their shells are orange with black spirals and the numbers "6" in a white circle on the sides of one and "28" on the other. They're good for communication for up to three miles. They sound like they get bad reception, but in reality just have sore throats, so they're a bit crackly.
Edited by The Unspeakable, Jun 4 2010, 12:52 AM.
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