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Rusting of an Artist's Tools; Part 1 of the Rust Pit Island Arc
Topic Started: Jun 9 2011, 08:59 PM (1,462 Views)
gonzo v. nemo
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Newbie
[ * ]
As Nemo and the lady wildly played, challenging each other with every note they hit, the crowd continued to get thicker as everyone wanted to see what the commotion is and see who’s playing the music. All this attention unfortunately draws in a few patrolling marines. One of them stops, looking close to the two, when he spotted Nemo. the marine yells out “you playing the fiddle, your under arrest.” As he draws up a pistol firing it into the air, instantly making the crowd disperse and or hit the ground. Both the woman, Nemo, and Bya instantly stop what there doing upon hearing the pistol going off. They look up to see the two marines jumping people and running them down. Nemo yells “oh shit. I gotta run.”

Nemo grabs the fiddle case in hand. The woman looks at him then over to the marines smiling. she just runs, patting Nemo on the back as she runs past him saying “stay close friend.” Nemo made a quick glance at her then the marines. he then ran following close with bya close to his side. They dodge in and out of alleys swerving past people on the street. The marines slowly loosing ground. They then dive in to a shallow alley way and quickly they make there way to a bland grungy looking door. she opens it up saying “hurry hide in here” while she looks back behind them to make sure the marines were out of sight. Nemo not wanting to get captured and knowing bya was out of breath and cant run much farther, he decides this is probably the best idea, out of everything on the table.
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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Shamma
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no fun
[ *  *  *  * ]
“Coin. Coin. Coin. Coin. Coin.”

It was a compulsion that drove Jar to announce every object that slipped out of his woven sack, a process that could drive those nearby to madness when he decided to look for something specific in the large bag. It was voluminous and tattered old thing, filled to the brim with who knows what; Jar would proclaim to know the entire inventory of the sack yet this was not entirely true. Deep amongst the junk he kept, some secrets still lay dormant in the bag and would continue to do so until the day they reached the top of the bundle and popped out.

The mystery of its contents was probably outdone by another unusual aspect to the bag, namely how Jar managed to lug it around on his back all day. The diminutive male was hardly blessed with a splendid physique and hoisting the sack everywhere had taken its toll on his back, he walked as if a hunchback by necessity rather than genetic disorder. Once long ago, a member of the Strawbeards had offered to relieve him of the burden for a few hours; it’s rumoured that some of his limbs are still stored away inside it.

“Coin. Coin. Coin. Coin. Coin.”

They were a pair, always a pair because Vladimir was the only member of the crew who could bear Jar’s loud identification of his loot. His secret was partial deafness, once as a boy a hoodlum had taken him hostage and intended to blow the poor runt’s brains out. Even at point blank, the scumbag had been a bad shot and missed; according to Vlad, the ringing had never stopped since. To survive he had learned to bear the little niggles and annoyances of life, to spark anger in him was near impossible. Unfortunately that near death experience had also made him a cowardly bastard, despite his abilities with a sharp edged club.

“Coin. Coin. Coin. Bomb.”

Vladimir jumped, his lithe frame twisting so he could bear witness with wide eyes to Jar’s bomb claim. Jar never lied when naming the contents of his sack, he had tried to once, only to stutter and tell the truth. By the time the white haired man with an onion-like head had spotted the small orb, its fuse oddly lit; his partner had lobbed it skywards.

“Smoke bomb.”

Masking some of the facts was possible though, above their heads the round object burst open in a cloud of smoke. It slowly descended on the thrower and accomplice. Despite the cloud of smoke, Vladimir spluttered as he swallowed too much of the gas, he could still spy the bright blue highlights in Jar’s naturally black hair; lacking what the common person would call beauty, Jar drew attention to different aspects of his body. If one failed to be captivated by the physical impossibility of the large sack with a small carrier, then the hair would be enough to suffice. It was wild, unkempt and rarely stayed in one place. It was just as possessed as him.

He could also spy a wry smile.

“Zikes! I tell you again an’ again, don’t ever do that!” Being a natural coward, he was an easy target and he knew it. Vladimir had struggled through the ridicule on so many occasions, his counter complaints always the same; Jar almost mouthed them to perfection as he counted up the set of coins retrieved from the bag. He glanced at the urchin on the floor, his pale pupil only adding to the fright in the street child’s expression.

“You find them, you come get us.” A back problem and an insufferable weight had turned the hunchback’s voice into a deep drone, the child he was talking to scarcely understood every word but nodded his head in fear of his life. It was enough, Jar emptied the coins into the hands of the urchin and watched as the frail boy ran along down the street. The poor served as excellent informants.

“The twelfth blighter.” Vladimir remarked, his freighting over the explosion and following smoke had died down after the initial outburst. He had resumed his task before the boom; washing the fresh blood from his club. “Bet he doesn’t even look.”

“Kid will.” The shorter man insisted, rolling up the set of bounty posters and pushing them back into the sack. Vladimir winced; it meant Jar would waste more time retrieving them when they ran across the next potential informant. “A few pennies is plenty motivation.”

“N’ should be easy to find that loudmouth Fran.”





There were plenty of roofs between her and the commotion; not that she expected the party of Marines to climb and give chase. The average foot soldier could hardly perform such demanding activities, they were so plain and expendable that it seemed their better option would be to hold back and simply report the incident. Clover sympathised with them a little, they had just arrived on the scene to see three decease Marines and one onlooker; survival instinct dictated that they not go the same way if they could help it. They had shot at her though, if not her place on a Pirate ship, the Sniper may have thought less of them for jumping to conclusions. Being a criminal voided her of a civilian’s right to complain though, and by the frequent patrols with jumpy soldiers; she reckoned the village was under some sort of lockdown.

She noticed a marginally higher rooftop than the one she was currently running and altered her course for it. Her practical flight had sent her deeper in the maze of similar height buildings, though in detail they were different; each felt similar because they were made out of the same clay tiles and ducts. The Sniper made for the jump, only to detect a danger at the last second. She pivoted in mid air, stretching her upper body to spiral and provide momentum for her left leg; its hooked blades ejecting in time to class with another blade.

They clashed and drew apart.

The swing had not been particularly strong, but in midair she had nothing to cling to, no grounding to prevent the whip of force than spun her further; it only took a second to clear the disorientating effects of the clatter, though a second of falling was never a safe thing. Her unknown assailant had attacked when she was at the central point of her jump. Clover always leaped to clear the distance and some more to ensure a firm landing, she was falling closer to her destination than her previous position yet not close enough to catch the roof. Having already calculated this, the enigmatic female did not make a needless grab for the edge and simply scanned the closer wall for some sort of ridge that she could catch herself on.

It came in the form of a window ledge, a dimmed out window like so many others. Perhaps the room was unoccupied, really the Sniper did not care. The home owners fright from the sudden stranger at her window were the least of her concerns; she caught the stone with both hands and clung tight.

Her body jerked, though her predictions were correct. A strong grip had prevailed.

Not wanting to present more time for the unknown attacker, Clover hoisted herself up onto the ledge, believing it would hold her full weight for the few seconds that were required. She had not examined her attacker, a more thorough inspection of the building had been her priority for survival, yet she was not a fool. To lose track of an individual with killing intent entirely would simply present him with the opportunity to attack once again, on her peripherals she had kept track of his location and turned her acute gaze to his current position. Straw-like hair and a memorable moustache; it seemed their prisoner had gone wild.
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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Drifter
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Hail Hydrift
[ *  *  *  * ]
Just as Allen was looking back to see who had walked into the door of the store, he almost did a sudden facepalm at the sight that beheld him. It was his Navigator, who had for some reason lost his clothes, and was using some sort of cardboard box to cover his own body with. Squinting his eyes, he turned and rolled his eyes over to another part of the store. ”Ugh, Fran, there should be a clothing rack somewhere over there, just… Go get some clothes and slide them on somehow, and I’ll pay for them.” He said, waving the man off until he walked over and started getting the close to the rack of clothes. Pointing over to where his crew mate was, he told the doctor from where he was to add whatever he got to his bill, in which he didn’t reply, from what Allen assumed he was too busy trying to get the rest of the medicine Charlotte had ordered for him.

”I take it you know that guy?” Charlotte cast her eye over to Allen’s face, as he was obviously holding a face full of shame and worry at his crewmate’s choice of nudity.

”Uh, who, him? Yeah, I know him, he’s one of the ones traveling with me,” Allen said, trying to pull a few more lies out of nowhere so that way he would not have to expose the truth at the moment. Shaking his head, he almost let out a laugh when he asked the next question. ”Would you believe that he is my group’s Navigator?” He let out a chuckle with, as the woman seemed to find this funny as well as she started laughing as well. The Martial Artist breathed a silent sigh of relief in his mind as it seemed that the woman hadn’t gotten suspicious of what the man was saying, or how his crew member had burst into the store wearing solely a box to cover him with. The Captain quickly scanned the store, hoping to not see anyone that would know who they are. Luckily, Allen didn’t see anyone who would know who they were, or what their current bounties would be.

”So, what is it that brought your little ‘group’ to the Grand Line, Mr. Salthezar?” Charlotte asked, leaning against the counter behind her in an attempt to keep her wasting too much energy standing, as well as to give her legs a break from all the pressure they were normally under.

”Uh, we are…” Allen started, trying to make up a quick answer to satisfy the question that was asked of him. ”We are simply exploring the Grand Line as best as we could. We stopped by the island to pick up some supplies before going onto the next one. After our last island, we want to find a new place to explore and this one… isn’t exactly up to par with our group’s idea of an island to explore.” Allen said, a mental bead of sweat appearing on the back of his head as he hoped that his excuse would be enough to not have the woman question what they were doing there. Or, at least for now. This woman seemed to be inquisitive to say in the least, something that Allen had to admire. But, with all the people that could be after their heads, it was better to be safe than sorry right now.

”Explorers, eh?” Miss O’Hara questioned, seeming interested in the type of group that the Artisans cover up would be. ”You know, perhaps you all should stick around and check out the island. From what I hear, some people are searching for something extremely rare and powerful, at least that’s what I hear around town.” She said, giving Allen a glance to see how he would react to the statement.

”Well, if someone else is already here and hoping to find something, then I don’t think we should stick around for too much longer,” Allen said, although the story that she was telling him was something that disturbed him. If someone was finding some sort of weapon that would hurt those around them, then he may want to go find who it is and stop them. But, if the people had already found the weapon, then they might already be too late. Either way, they might have to leave the island earlier than Allen thought they would have to. Which meant also having to leave this woman, and hope she didn’t follow them either.

”Well, you know, I think teaming up with some explorers sounds like some fun, perhaps I should join up with you all for a few adventures,” She said, seeming to offer her services quite easily to simply get a rush of adventure or something of the sort.

”I’m not sure we’d be the right type of adventurers for you to join up with,” Allen said, tapping his fingers of his left hand on the counter near him to try and hurry up the wait for the medicine they had asked for. ”We’re not the kind of people most would want to be with. We’re kind of a bad crowd you know.”
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
[ *  *  *  * ]
“Yeah sorry, Captain…”

Fran pathetically smiled his way into the store’s clothing section and quickly hid himself amongst the shelves. While the store initially looked more like a general merchandise kind of shop, Fran was quite surprise to see a reasonable selection of cloths hanging on the racks. The selection of clothing were more or less located at the far back which made walking around and choosing a little more bearable, since circling around with only a cardboard box is embarrassing, even for Fran.

While there was a lot to choose from, the selection was either too plain or too weird for the man who once wore a splendid pink shirt and a limb of muscular steel. After running the array of clothes he finally settled for a black sleeveless shirt with a faded red apple print and a pair of white shorts with pink and apple green polka dots. Fran went over to the mirror to take look at himself, “Meh, this doesn’t look too good…”, he looked back at the pants section but only saw a multitude of tight jeans which he found too restrictive. On his way out the counter, Fran got a pair of Hawaiian print flip flops and a short bright yellow cloak to cover his unfortunate arm.

He collected all the price tags from his clothes and got out from the shelves, leaving his dirty box behind. There were a little bit more people in the store, making it a bit cramped and suffocating. “This place must be pretty well known to have this much people visiting at this time of the day, all this cost a hundred and twenty-one beli Captain.” Fran laid the price tags on the table and stood besides Allen, “I can’t help but over hear the lady offering her services to our crew, I think we can sure use a woman on board, well after Rose and Saphira left, the journey has been pretty bland, besides, we’re not all that bad… are we?”

Obviously, Fran was a little oblivious of Allen trying hard not to attract unwanted attention, but of course, the ever bumbling navigator had his unlucky streak to keep alive, so he went on and forced himself into the conversation while scratching his butt cheek out of habit.

The door bell rang as the shop’s door opened, and a trio of little dirty runts came walking the store, hoisting up a rather large box filled with what seemed to be scrap of steel, a few pieces of carbon fibers and the CYBR-ARM MK I. Fran’s eyes bulged wide open. The kids approached one of the men inside the store, “Mister, here’s the loot for today, we even got a few pieces of pink rags along with the steel.”

“HOLD IT YOU LITTLE RUNTS, THOSE ARE MY CYBORG PARTS, AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN PINK RAGS!!! THOSE ARE FASHIONABLY THE BEST PIECES OF CLOTHES YOU’D EVER SEEN!!!” The kids yelped at the sight of Fran and dropped the box as the scurried away. Fran then walked towards the box, “Well Captain, it seems like I found my clothes and my arm! How lucky can I get.”

However, as soon as he knelt down to retrieve his belongings, the man who was supposed to get the box kicked Fran in the face, “That’s my property! And if you want it you’d have to pay for it!”

The kick was rather light and Fran simply brushed it off as he stood up, “In case you haven’t heard, those kids stole from me and I’m just taking back what’s mine.” Fran was causing a stir, and was totally oblivious to the men in the store working their way to for a circle trapping both Fran and Allen in. A pair of bulky fellows found their way in front of the door and slyly flipped the store’s sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’.

While Fran was having an escalating heated argument, drawing everyone’s attention towards him, Ms. O’Hara of course voiced out her objection to the escalating argument, "Boys, boys if you're gonna fight, take it outside!" The shop assistant peered out of the counter and nodded towards the man Fran was having an argument with and within seconds everyone in the shop except for Fran, Allen and Ms. O'Hara wore a mask, seconds later a puff of thick purple smoke enshrouded the whole vicinity. A single whiff of the powerful relaxant mixed with sleeping gas instantly got Fran to shut up and fall into a deep, deep sleep.

“All right fellas, haul them out, Strawbeard is waiting, and don’t forget to bring that guy’s arm.”

Edited by Nary, Jul 16 2011, 09:15 PM.
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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gonzo v. nemo
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[ * ]
Inside the building Nemo looks around seeing switches, pulley’s, and props instantly noticing that he is in a closed down theater. Bya a little out of breath just pants while Nemo looks over to the woman and asks “I take it you know those men?”

she just laughs and says. “No not really, there just not really friends of mine. You see I don’t bow down to them. I try to keep company with all sorts of groups. and they really don’t like people who don’t mind being seen hanging out with the shadier of the islands inhabitants.” as she laughs and says “it don’t help with all the attacks on the marines either.”

Nemo looked at her with a bit of curiosity in his eyes when he said, “not to change the subject to much, but the names Nemo, and you really know how to strum those cords”

the woman laughs when she responds “ya introductions would be a good idea. The name is Emily, and thanks I make a little money with my playing.” .bya looks over to the door and groans a little. Emily continues “so I take it by the way those marines wanted your head, that your not exactly on there Christmas card list either.”

Nemo just laughed,. Saying “no we are here to grab a couple of supplies but with my crews luck every marine and pirate on this island will be after us in a few minutes.”

Emily laughed saying. “you do have a good start there. but I will warn you though, a lot of people have been hearing some digging going on around the bay to west. though any marine that goes to investigate ends up winding up dead somewhere else. it’s a distraction technique if you ask me. But if you don’t want trouble id say take off as soon as you can.”

Nemo looked down to bya, and bya looked back up with an expression of “all clear.” Nemo looked back to Emily and said “I really appreciate the help and advise. But the marines are gone now, and I probably should go back to my ship and hopefully warn the crew.” Then offered out his hand

Emily took his hand as they shook hands and said “good luck Nemo. And keep up with that great fiddling you do.” When she laughs and says. “ill keep an ear out for you and that great playing of yours.”

Nemo just laughs at the thought and says. “ya may you keep one step ahead of those marines. And may you get a laugh out of it as well.” when he laughs again. And says “but ill keep playing, and you should to I think you might be able to get famous one of these days.” they both laugh as they part ways. Nemo with bya walk over to the door looking around not seeing any body he looks down to bya who sniffs the air a bit and walks out and looks over his shoulders with a “alls clear” look nemo walking out the door waves good bye to Emily as the door closes behind them.

While still in the thin ally way Nemo looks down to bya and says “we need to get to the ship. And hopefully with out the notice of any one on this island.”

bya just shook his head with a “ya right” look to it.

Nemo rubbed byas back when they headed back to the ship dodging in and out of alleyways. Threw streets that had a lot of people in them so they might be harder to spot. It wasn’t till the last 100 yards that the sneaking really got harder as the crowds almost became nonexistent. But all came out good.

As the two turned there last corner they spotted the delivery of the lumber wrapping up as they put the last planks onto the deck of the ship and headed off. Nemo smiled at this. After all was out of sight him and bya walked up on board of the ship and looked around to see if he might be able to see any members of the crew.
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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Titan
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Nero's BFF
After all the other Artisans left the kitchen, Galles had wound up loitering about in the room — his adventurous spirit did compel him to explore the new island that the crew had discovered, but the pirate's incessant hunger kept him chained to the kitchen in a way. The fish he had consumed was neither filling nor appealing, and left his appetite wanting more. Reflecting on his earlier realization about the scarceness of supplies, the pirate decided he had to be forgetting something. Due to his immense foresight, he had made a contingency plan for such a hunger emergency such as the one he faced now.

”Wait a minute...”

With a gasp, Galles remembered an incident that had taken place months in the past, so long ago that he had not immediately remembered. One of those strange delivery birds — the news carriers were the most well-known, but apparently some of them were used to peddle essentials and other weird goods out at sea — had talked him into buying a certain package. At the time, he had doubted the persuasive bird's claims, but in this state of intensive famine he realized that making the purchase was saving his life, all for the incredibly low price of ::beli:: 5,000.

Returning to his room where he had stashed the package in a secret compartment along with his diary and model train, he picked up the heavy square package and read the label again — The On-the-go Quick Cake 9000! Smashing his fist through the glass that advised breaking in case of starvation, Galles retrieved small packages of chocolate, sugar, and preserved butter, as well as other essential ingredients from inside the package. He had never baked a cake in the past but he was sure that with his facile intellect and the simple, easy-to-read instructions he would be able to create a perfect, delicious treat in no time at all!

The idea of asking one of the others for help crossed the man's mind, but he disregarded it when he realized that making the cake now while everyone else was distracted would mean he got the whole thing to himself. It was time to bake a cake!

”Wow, this On-the-go Quick Cake 9000 ™ sure is a lifesaver! With its simple instructions and quality ingredients, anyone can bake a great cake! For just the low price of ::beli:: 5,000!”

Galles flashed a wink and a thumbs up at the reader.
French Last Name: ✓
Gender: XX: ✓
Affiliation: Other: ✓
Custom Secondary Profession: ✓
King's Haki: ✓
Born Leader: ✓
Custom Traits: ✓
Sambamba Scoop: ✓
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Shamma
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no fun
[ *  *  *  * ]
((I guess Drift is back, so I should post.))

The ledge creaked, the buildings of Lin Koop Village were study enough to survive the eternal rust that wrecked the land but the weight of a young woman with a pair of cybernetic legs had not been the anticipated load for a window sill. A small pot with a flower was likely more appropriate. Her attacker had managed to land on the roof after his attack, she pushed off the ledge to the opposing wall; repeating the motion to sail up onto the top of the same building and face him.

Their moron navigator had referred to this individual as ‘Stache, a man from his past that they had met and captured on Salt Island. The Sniper did not understand why they had kept him around; she had been the first to encounter the straw-haired male when the Artisans had collided with the forces of Miss Dion and he had hardly been friendly in the exchange. His technique was slow though, despite the attempted trickery and jumps thrown into the mix, not one scratch had been landed on her which made his current attack all the more strange. Did he not remember how effortlessly she had avoided him; how she had even ignored him and chased after the imprisoned Galles instead? The enigmatic female glared through the slit in her helmet, expecting her sharp brown eyes to remind the rogue and cause him to run away.

Yet he did not. The failure of his surprise attack, a trick that probably featured quite frequently in his book, did not deter the swordsman. He simply lifted the thin blade of his to meet her steely gaze. He had been unarmed during his capture, shockingly their Captain had shown some intelligence by casting his weapons overboard since he could so easily break free; without a sharp edge, it was presumed that the prisoner would be quite harmless. So not only had he escaped but procured an elegant blade. Fleetingly she wondered if he had done her a favour and slain both Allen and Fran during his escape; an idea that was perhaps too hopeful, if the pair were so easily put down, they would not have survived Salt Island.

“Some would call this round two.” The guile of his tone was unmistakable but accompanied by something that made Clover stand on edge. That elevated charm was missing, the jingle in his voice was held under wraps, she realised that his voice alone was not the only change. His eyes were sharper, meeting hers behind the tip of the rapier’s blade; Stache had hidden his true nature well on the streets of Salt Island. The cloaked female did not hesitate when meeting this new face, she had made sure to put some distance between them on her ascent and with her mobility, the sniper expected to maintain the gap and avoid any close encounters with the rapier. Beneath the thick ravels of fabric, a gloved hand curled around the grip of Quadsong in anticipation, a change of nature meant little when the first round had been won so flawlessly.

“And I won’t hold back this time.”

If she had been the expressive type, Clover may have smirked at his next line. Before their violent encounter on Salt Island, the cloaked female had observed the straw haired pirate playing street games to launder locals out of their money with three cups and a bead; his sleight of hand had also been applied during their fight, though to minimal effect. It was highly likely that Stache also had a silver tongue and lied comprehensively when permitted the opportunity to do so; his veiled threat did nothing to her quiet confidence. Rather it sparked a desire to prove the stark differences in their capabilities, the enigmatic girl wishing she also used a blade so the result of their clash would be more damning on the rogue’s ego.

She willed him to attack mentally.

“However, there is no need to fight.” The swordsman coolly declared. Clover’s thought process was disturbed, the pirate had already attempted to ambush her, in reality their clash had already started and the one sided trading of words was merely a lull in the battle. Then she heard them, a pair of steps upon the clay tiles that beckoned for her to twist and look behind. The Sniper held her nerve and did not look, they clatter of tiles had not been close enough to suggest an immediate threat; she could rely on reflex if the owner of the footsteps had some form of ranged weaponry.

Her ears detected a softer sound, near the source of the footsteps from behind; a more delicate heel that may have eluded a less perceptive person. She had dealt with a three on one situation on rooftops before, though her opposition had been considerably weaker and not surrounded her on that occasion. The single advantage of knowing the swordsman’s combat style was smitten by a complete lack of knowledge on the pair behind her; Clover refused to break eye contact with Stache whilst the unknowns remained a far off threat.

“They’re with me.” He confirmed, probably aware by the slight shift in the cyborg’s stance. It had been quite subconscious; Clover had shifted her feet so it would be easier to spring to the side rather than backwards. Naturally she wished to avoid the disadvantageous situation of leaping from one opponent into two others. “We’d like you to accompany us, willingly or otherwise. The rest of your crew will be there too.” Her face was often unmoved by developments, unless they were of the irritating sort; the right side of her brow raised slightly beneath the helmet as the swordsman mentioned the other Artisans, had they been given the same invitation? An invitation that could not be refused.

Her boots moved on the tiled roof once again, this time a conscious shift as they adopted a more casual stance; the stubborn archer refused to agree to the proposal by word of mouth yet saw the benefit of avoiding a scrap with three people, two who were unknown factors. The Grand Line was meant to be a pirate’s graveyard and though she had fared well on Salt Island against Stache, she was not going to assume superiority over his companions as well. The trickster was naturally good at reading others and pivoted on his heel, directing with his blade before breaking into a sprint.

The Sniper paused, understanding that she was meant to follow but not budging instantly. He was not running at full speed, Marines were spread across the town to her knowledge, moving as a pack would lure attention. Maybe his allies would take a different path?

The tiles creaked closer.

”Go.” One of them rasped.

Clover complied, breaking into a quick stride as she followed the guiding swordsman.
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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Drifter
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Hail Hydrift
[ *  *  *  * ]
Allen had to really restrain himself from letting his face come up and slap onto his forehead as Fran was blatantly trying to get someone new for the crew. Personally, with their most escapades that continued and continued happening to them, Allen was getting more and more paranoid about his crew’s safety, and he really didn’t know anything about the woman despite the fact that she may be a doctor. Besides that, she could be working for the World Government or the Marines for all they knew. The less people that could stab them in the back the better, in Allen’s own opinion. While Allen’s thoughts were going on, another few actions started happening around Allen. A group of kids came into the shop, carrying parts of Fran’s cyborg arm and his clothing. How Fran lost his clothing to a group of kids… Allen didn’t want to know. After that, Fran got the kids to run off and leave the box, before a man started trying to kick Fran as the Navigator tried his best to keep what was his.

As Allen looked around, he saw the men started to get into a large circle around them, as Allen’s hands started to tighten. Charlotte yelled out to the two people about to get into a fight in order to try and stop them, but still only the Captain saw what was happening around them. Firstly, seeing people start to surround them more, Allen snuck one of his hands back to grab the sunglasses from the counter as they slid into his pocket before starting to confront one of the people. Just as he was about to start knocking heads in the room, he froze when he saw a few of them start to don masks as soon everyone but the three of them was wearing them. Just as he had gotten out of his daze and start heading forward, a thick purple smoke started waving around them, as it all came together in Allen’s mind. ”Everyone, we need to get out of he-“ He started to say, before he looked to see Fran starting to fall asleep where he stood, as Charlotte wasn’t faring much better. As the smoke continued to appear around them, Allen’s eyes started drooping more and more. They still needed to get out of here, but the urge to sleep was overwhelming him. ”Maybe just a quick nap won’t hurt…” The Captains said, his eyes drooping as he fell forward onto the ground, his last conscious thought still being trying to run.

He awoke a few minutes later with a pain on his back. Opening his eyes, he was facing the sky as the sun was still blaring in his eyes. With his eyes squinting, he quickly slipped his hand into his pocket to pull out his sunglasses as he started getting less and less numb overall. It seemed that whatever they had put into the air of the building, it was starting to wear off of Allen. As he got more and more of his senses back, he was able to move some and figure out what was going on. He was being dragged by both of his feet, one of the larger buff guys dragging him as his back continually hit the ground, especially every rough and sharp rock that was within the limits of the road. Looking back, he saw a few more of the men carrying both Fran and Charlotte, as even one of them was carrying Fran’s arm and clothes in the box.

Looking back at the man that was carrying Charlotte, Allen couldn’t help but feel bad for her. She was getting dragged into this nonsense now, and possibly she would have to be branded with the Artisans by the Marines or something worse. Allen still wasn’t sure about the men or their side, especially since his head was still somewhat groggy and his thoughts were jumbled. Hearing a slight moaning noise from the Doctor, he looked at her to see her start raising her head up from being thrown over the shoulder of the man. Strangely, this man held her opposite of what most people hold people over their shoulders, seeing as her head was on the same side of his chest as her legs were draped over his back. With her head raised some, it seemed she was trying to get her bearings together as well, much like Allen had to moments ago. As Allen was being dragged on the dirt, his thoughts began trying to comprehend who would be pulling the strings with this, and who they would be meeting when they would get to their destination.

[Short post, not sure what all I should say]
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
[ *  *  *  * ]
Being dragged about halfway across Rust Pit Island would have been pretty uncomfortable, for anyone that wasn’t Fran. Unlike the boss lady of the shop, both Allen and Fran were dragged all the way by their heels. The rough and grainy road did little to disturb the Artisan’s navigator from his sweet slumber and even the painful sensation of the bumpy stairway had no effect to the sturdy afro man. As the group descended down further into the inner core of the island, Fran was so deep in sleep to even realize the dangers he was being led to.

Once they have reached the end of the long dwindling path, an extremely thick titanium door welcomed the mob along with their three captives. The smaller man at the forefront produced a series of skeleton keys, after shuffling the keys to find the correct one he inserted it and unlocked the heavy door open. A secondary door stood directly behind the thicker one, the second door was much thinner but was made of a completely different material. It was smooth and almost transparent, its reddish hue was reminiscent of Red Sand Island’s famous red glass but at the same time somehow different. The door and an empty rectangular shape engraved to where the keyhole was supposed to be. Another man from the group took over and produced a rectangular prism-like object and inserted it into the slot, opening the glass-like door. They entered the room and locked the doors shut. Once inside, they immediately brought their prisoners towards the middle, tied them down and waited for their ‘boss’ to come.

Fran still slept like a log, his head tilted to one side while his saliva started to drool uncontrollably. With his mouth wide open, it was only time before a stray fly buzzed into his mouth, nearly chocking the navigator to death. The inability to breath and drool properly caught Fran in his deep, deep slumber, forcing him to cough in his wake.

“Ulurgh!!! Ulurgh!!! Ulurgh!!!”

When he had finally come to, the first thing that crossed his mind was the feeling of restrictiveness. Looking down, Fran notices his arm tied back, reinforced with a thick rope looped tightly around his torso. He tried to wrestle his way out of his binding but to no avail, after what seemed to be a minute or so, Fran decided to look around to see if there was anything he could use to get out. As he surveyed his surroundings, he noticed that aside from the steel-like walls and flooring along with a few wooden crates, there was practically nothing useful for his escape attempt. A single light bulb hangs aloof the ceiling providing the only light source in the entire room, its orangey hue spreaded just enough to light Fran and the two other captives.

Fran nudged to his left, trying to see if Allen was awake, “Hey, hey, Captain, you awake, I think we got caught.”

Before Fran could receive any answers, the blast of bright florescent lights erupted from the four corners of the room. The sudden flash of light stunned the oddly dressed navigator, momentarily blinding the man as his vision was obstructed by a colourful array of shapes. Once his eyes had settled down and his vision returned, Fran looked around a second time, this time revealing a multitude of men surrounding him and his co-captives.

“Well, well, that, is one face that brings me way back, how have you been Fran?”

Fran looked straight up and a very familiar face met him. The man stood well over seven feet, his large burly body was as wide and muscular as Fran had remembered and that signature straw-like beard protruded outwards in a fly away manner from under his nose.

“Strawbeard!”

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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gonzo v. nemo
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[ * ]
no crew members in view Nemo gathers up all the lumber and puts it away that way its not in the way when the entire crew had to leave in a hurry. After all the wood put away bya started sniffing around. Nemo looked down and asked “what’s up?” Bya looked up with a look of “something’s going on over there.” as he looks over to the to the kitchen. Nemo turns toward the kitchen with a questioning look on his face. When he starts walking toward the door he begins to get the whiff of something floating threw the air. Nemo scratches his had in curiosity while the scent gets stronger and more pleasant the closer he gets. Bya groans as they reach the door. Nemo looks down saying “Ya I know that smells to good to be getting made from some one on our crew. Get ready to fight, although I never heard of some one breaking onto a ship to cook for them.” Nemo then opens the door and notices Galles there pulling a cake out of the oven. Both Nemo and Bya stop instantly in there tracks.

Nemo looks up at Galles, then down to the cake, then back up to Galles and says “ok sense when can you cook so well? That smells like someone rose would have made.” Nemo shakes the thought off quickly as he laughs and says “enjoy your lunch man, I got something I gotta do down stairs.” As he heads down the stairs leaving Galles to his cake. Nemo and Bya walked down the wooden hall down to his room stepping in and pulled out his large box of pranks. Again Bya began to growl. Nemo stopped shifting threw the box and looked at Bya who had a look of “are you that stupid to do this again.” Nemo smiled when he said “you know that sour puss has had this coming from the moment he joined the crew” as he turned back to the box and grabbed the book that a legendary prank master had written and found the perfect way to put molten wax in to the keyhole to be completely unnoticeable making the key for the door completely useless and completely reversible with just a little work. A large grin spread across Nemo’s face . Bya on the other hand dropped his head in shame. Nemo quickly gathered up the supplies and walked over to metal heads door and began work tinkering away, slipping in the molten wax to the right level and cleaning up his mess so there would be no alarming signs triggering unwanted attention.. Nemo smiled at the end of the job and headed back to his room putting everything back and away then headed back up the stairs into the kitchen.
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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Versesai
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Cipher Pol 0 Leader
[ *  *  *  * ]
Nothing was real anymore. God damn it.

Galles groaned as he woke up on the floor of the galley, holding a stupid cake in one hand and the lingering remains of a rum bottle in his other...He was not enjoying sobriety and his body had decided to take up the rum again without his consent. Where the fuck did he get a cake from anyway? Groaning, he pushed himself up off the floor of the ship and stretched his hands...And found his wrists expanding, his spring powers acting up that he totally still had because he hasn't lost them to the scooping wannabe yet. Shaking his head at that opportune slip of his Bane Bane no Mi powers he focused again and his springs retracted back into flesh as he tossed his rum bottle and cake aside. Someone else would clean those up and he didn't care who.

Taking a step towards the door of the galley, he found himself growing very confused as he realized that he could hear no one around. No one. There wasn't even the sound of Nemo and his dogthing on deck as there usually would be. He palmed the door handle to the deck and opened it, blinking as he looked out over the fairly pristine deck of the Maple Orcher and the lingering scents of battle and chaos that floated up through the air. He wasn't entirely sure why he could sense it, but it might've come from the just...General feel of things. This new island they had landed on looked different than he'd really expected it to, his ideas of it something like Salt Island. Perhaps an entire chain of islands made of Salt? But instead, as he stepped onto the deck, he found himself staring at...Red. Red everywhere.

Red everywhere. This was a strangely appealing color and instead of connecting it to the obvious things; Blood, rust, mud, etc, he connected the color with the pleasant clay rum bottles of an island in East Blue that had a particularly strange taste to them. Not unpleasant but a little thickening to the rum never hurt noone...

However, as he was admiring the view, he felt a dull thunk against his face...And then purple gas sprayed out in a cloud around him. He stared at it blankly for all of three nanoseconds before his body reacted and he lurched himself towards the door of the Orcher, attempting to get to a more defensible position. He lunged for the door and snapped the handle in his hand, ripping the door open. Or at least that's what he tried to do...Instead he saw shadows and figures rippling over the frame and he choked out a call "Everyone...Run!" that was surprisingly loud for his current state of nearly collapsing into a puddle...

And then he hit the floor of the Orcher, groaning out as consciousness floated across him. He felt the deck move under him, someone grasping his leg and then he felt his body being moved just before he heard another voice call "Here. Take the last gas launcher and see if theres anyone else aboard. We need the whole crew." the voice said, Galles flinching as he tried to flex his leg but the gas had robbed him of his strength. All he did was vibrate a little before darkness completely blotted his vision and he was drug off the plank of the Orcher.
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.

These Other Inactives
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Shamma
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no fun
[ *  *  *  * ]
The markswoman and her abductors shared the same philosophy on travel when it came to getting around Lin Koop Village. The flat levelled rooftops of the red brick buildings amongst rusting trash provided a quick passage for the convoy of swordsman, captive and two unknowns to move to the edge of the village without being noticed by the street dwellers below. Despite a band of Marines spotting her on top of a building before meeting the assassins, the perceptive female had not caught a glimpse of white uniform above street level and remained a little confused by the rather shoddy display of vigilance by the local law enforcement.

The World Government’s navy were so often trumpeted as an elite band that lay waste to criminals and wrong doers across the seas, loudly enough that even the remote fishing town of Osula 37 had heard word of them despite a very withdrawn presence of Marine forces on the corrupted island. Since graduating from the humble lifestyle of an assistant to a crazed inventor, Clover had tangled many times with the white shirts and not once had she been very troubled by their presence. Even her first misdemeanour, sheltering a wanted man out of curiosity for the fellow, where the soldiers had surrounded the building and laid siege; she had escaped with ease, though her two companions did take the brunt of the blows. The follow up at Loguetown had been a simple slaughter which they had initiated; even the small clash at the docks had been effortless, the useless Allen displaying a talent for beating up helpless men dressed in uniform.

He was quite the unruly thug. And an idiot.

The relatively similar height of the village buildings would be a strategic advantage for the occupying forces, even numerous dips between jagged roof points could only provide some cover and just an observing force would be able to track a band like there’s making a simple B-line to the northern point of the island. Confusion about the poor choice of tactics soon became disappointment; the manner that her three captors comfortably traversed the rooftops suggested they commanded them. The Marines probably did not chase them up there because there were so afraid to fight the pirates at those heights. They had been easily slaughtered in the streets after all.

The village’s edge was sparser in population, though the village as a whole had not exactly been thriving under Marine lockdown as was probably the usual in such dangerous times. The female wondered fleetingly if her abductors terror campaign, she was adamant it was this bunch that Stache was affiliated to causing the mess, had extended to slaying civilians or held the mark at Marines. Every massacre started somewhere.

With the drop in people also came a widening of streets, the buildings maintained their height rule but were less typical of what Clover would define as a brick township. The settlement almost became rural, which was probably accurate since the island itself was composed of a rusting, metallic substance. This red wreckage was now utilised to make parts of the building, where outliers had perhaps found beneficial structures amongst the obscure metal landscape and simply build around them in an amalgamation of rust and brick.

The building that Stache stopped on, a mere roof ahead of the following markswoman was one of these hybrids. The metal ‘natural’ part was a half cone that stretched mightily high, and by the jagged cut of its top, Clover suspected had surged even higher into the air but was probably considered against the regulated height clause of the village. A red brick, clay title townhouse had since been built around it, utilising its metal core so that the builders could probably save on the materials. They had been civilised enough to cut windows into the rusting half, which Clover could not imagine provided nice living conditions, these openings were naturally curtained off like so many in the village.

With its cone half, the building looked older than those on the sea edge and closer to the centre of town. The floating wreckage that had become an island probably took many years to form, the piece that jutted out from the ground to help form the house was likely very old; though the brick building added to it seemed to fair no better. It was rickety, tiles were missing from its tops; one even slipping off the edge and falling to the ground below as Clover landed on the roof. The whole structure seemed to creek, the mute female not quite trusting the surface beneath her boots at that moment.

She placed a hand on a crooked chimney beside her, a simple precaution. To her surprise, it budged, brick giving away and sliding down the slanted surface they were standing on. Instinctively the Sniper turned to watch it, as did Stache; she spotted a slight break in his calm expression on the peripherals of her vision.

This flinch was the product of the event the Markswoman had unsuspectingly put into motion.

The swordsman’s backup were on view for the first time, Clover had not bothered to turn her head and look during their short burst across the village rooftops, they features as a short individual and a taller individual. The short one moved abnormally gracefully for a hunchback, he was as crooked as the sliding chimney and carried a great bag upon his back yet flew through the air with some elegance to him. All notions of grace were taken away when glancing at his face though, a screwed up portrait that a mother would struggle to love; his mess of blue dyes in greasy black hair hardly complimented.

Fate shined poorly on the other fellow though, the lithe and more visually appealing of the pair. His face contorted, arms flapped desperately as his unfortunate choice of jump was landing him in the path of the sliding chimney top.

The heavy brick crashed into the white haired man, red liquid splashing outwards from the zone of impacts and in all directions; enough to cause the Sniper to raise an eye as she watched the clash keenly, she had first believed copious amounts of blood had needlessly burst from the individuals frame but it seemed that his very flesh turned into the liquid and splashed outwards till the chimney top passed through him and fell off the edge.

All that remained were the ends of a pair of outstretched arms, two spread feet and a large paddle of redish liquid draining off the rooftop. And then in front of her eyes, it all sprang upwards and reformed as an intact man. Clover tried to hide her surprise, her left foot twitching enough to free another tile.

It slowly and painfully slid off the roof as everyone remained silent.

“Zikes!” Vlad uttered, feeling his reformed torso and then face; the red liquid was still apparent and dripped from the areas that had been smashed out of existence only seconds ago. Rather than check on his companion, the hunch backs pale eyeball glared directly at her, a threatening gesture that probably compromised their peaceful hostage situation. “H-he tried to kill me!” Vlad suddenly accused, not a scratch on his body but still nervous by his expression.

Clover reached inside her cloak, it was clear when confrontation was nearing, Stache had made it quite clear earlier that her consciousness was not essential to her abduction. With a finger of blame being thrown at her, the Marksman deflected her gaze towards the figure that held authority over the pair; trying to read his assessment of events by expression alone. The rogue was smiling.

Then he laughed.

“Just your bad luck again, Vlad. We’re here anyway.”

She had suspected as much, Stache had not paused for a break at all on their short trip and buildings were growing fewer as they approached the open junk plains of Rust Pit Island, great hills of rusting wreckage obscuring the view beyond the realms of their side of the village. She was drawn to a noise, the swordsman had drawn his blade and lightly tapped a tile-less spot on the roof.

"Open up."

Not trusting the surface that her boots stood on had been smart, for that space vanished as a trap door opened up in its place. Her legs could do little but kick in the air, one tried to step off nothing to reach the ledge but failed; instinctive and uncalculated, her mind had a better solution and spread her arms to catch the sides of the gap. Her quick reaction speed was a saving grace and prevented an instant fall into the black depths of the building, she immediately attempted to pull herself out of the drop but a figure towered above.

The hunchback’s pale eye had not irked the cloaked female. He was creepy and odd, but not entirely intimidating with his short stature and out of sorts’ hair cut. Yet being on the same level of his feet, as he hoisted that large sack he carried over his shoulder, the weird fellow was menacing and almost frightening. The view was short lived as he swung down at her with the heavy baggage like a club, hitting the Sniper square and actually causing the part of the roof she was clinging onto to crumble away and leave her in free fall. It did not matter, she had lost grip after taking such a blow to her head; the iron helmet she adorned was crumpled by the blow and closed in on her crown.

Something warm ran down her forehead and around her nose, irritating her left eye as it trickled past. There was a second impact after some falling, Clover supposed that she had hit the bottom of the pit fall but could not make out anything around her; apart from the sneering face of the hunchback as he stood above the trap door, the image becoming increasingly vivid till she lost sight of it altogether.
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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Drifter
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Hail Hydrift
[ *  *  *  * ]
As Allen was being dragged, it seemed that wherever this group of people were taking them was a decent distance away from where they were actually located at. Allen, more than likely due to more of the drugs, seemed to slip in and out of consciousness as he was being dragged, the pain of the ground against him seeming to dull away as the sights seemed to buzz by them, and no sooner than he had just closed his eyes were he and Fran being dragged across a stairway, before being led into a building where Allen did his best to watch what the men were doing to get inside.

From the looks of it, each man had a different key to get inside the building. Sort of elaborate from what Allen could tell, but with not knowing who the men were Allen had no choice but to simply watch the actions take place as they were led more and more inside the building. At one point, it seemed that the men simply dropped off all three of them into a single room before tying them down more. Allen could immediately feel his arms start being constricted, as some hand cuffs were placed on his arms as they were dragged behind his back, as he looked over to see Charlotte receiving the same kind of treatment that he was receiving at the time being. With both of these people seemingly at the mercy of these attackers, Allen didn’t want to stand up and start fighting just yet, seeing as they could easily make him stay down by threatening to kill them. Just as Allen was holding in his urges to fight back, it seemed Fran had just woken up and was adapting to the new change of scenery as well. Charlotte was on Allen’s left, as he looked over to see her looking around the room as well, trying to figure out how to escape the room as well.

That was, before the blinding light overtook them and a voice started booming over everything else of course. Allen, despite being behind sunglasses, squinted his eyes as they adapted to see a figure standing extremely tall above all three of them, as he was surrounded by many other figures around him. This man, whoever he was, said he knew one of this, and somehow the man’s weird beard seemed to remind Allen of something he had read once while he was training with Stone. Then, when Fran yelled out his name, some of the information started rushing back to him. ”Strawbeard, huh…” He said, remembering reading about some of the crew’s actions that they had done along with their leader, the infamous Strawbeard, whose beard was the color of straw itself. Then Allen’s thoughts about Fran started rationalizing more and more, as he tried to start figuring out how Fran of all people would know who Strawbeard was, let alone how the famous Pirate would recognize Fran.

”What’s going on here, Strawbeard?” Allen asked, the words seemingly slipping from his tongue faster than he thought they would be. He knew he was in no position to start asking these sorts of questions, but he needed to start getting information soon if he wanted to figure out how to get them out of this situation alive. He struggled with his chains slightly, nothing too much to try and draw their attention, but just enough to see what he was dealing with for now. It didn’t feel like anything too much, some simple handcuffs that would keep his hands and arms in place until taken off or broken. But without knowing what this infamous Pirate had in plan for the three of them, it was still safe to sit and wait to make sure nothing horrible would go wrong when the time would arise to take them on to escape.
ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ #AtLeastItAin'tAids ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ

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Demolition King is Back Baby

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Of all people, the one who stood in front of him was the man Fran least expected to see. Big, massive and quite thick, Strawbeard easily towered over the three bounded prisoners. The oddly-dressed navigator tried to muscle is way out of his bindings but to little effect, apparently his captors had done a very decent job at securing the ropes and chains around his wrist and arms.

“Well, well, what do we have here a trio of fresh new faces, hmmm… now where did I put that bounty list?” Strawbeard ran his big fingers across his pants looking for a bundle of papers filed together by a rope looped around two holes. When he got the list out he licked his thumb and began searching though it, stopping right at Allen’s bounty poster. "Ah here we go, Allen ‘Allen Sai… Allen ‘Allen’? that’s quite an odd nickname you have here don’t you? Not very creative if I might add, you know if you want to make a name for yourself, you need a catchier nickname for people to remember you, just a little advice from me, HA!”

“Hey, Strawbeard, remember me?” asked Fran out of the blue, effectively breaking the conversation of his ex-captain and his present captain. The Artisan’s navigator looked at Strawbeard with mixed emotions, part of him felt delighted to be reunited with the man who took him in when he was starting out, and the very same man who he was chasing after all these long years. On the other hand, he could not utter the right words to describe his current state right now, bounded and in shackles. What’s more, Strawbeard seemed to have known about the Artisans, one way or another.

Fran and Strawbeard locked eyes for a while, both men seemingly had years worth or words being exchanged between the two in their silent conversation. The bigger, older man gave out first, a large smirk formed on his lips which eventually broke into a smile. “Well, well it’s been a long time Fran, I hardly recognized you without your pink garb!” he approached the navigator and hauled him up with his thick arms; Strawbeard easily lifted the one-hundred sixty two pound afro man off the floor.

“Hmmpf, now follow me, I have something to show you, your new friends can tag along.”

Strawbeard went ahead, opening another thick door behind him, leading the way for his ‘visitors’. Fran was shoved by the man behind him, motioning for him to follow while the rest of the people inside the room got to the other two.

As Fran tagged along, he found it rather annoying to walk while wearing thick chains and ropes around his wrist and upper torso, the constant dangling sound chiming with his every step. They descended down a winding staircase at first, a column surrounded by red brick until its opened out into an underground cavern.

It was there, the metal mine began. The rusting substance that made up the very island had been cut clean into a passage, only few jagged points jutted out from the walls and ceiling, a railway ran along the centre of the cavern and down into a long tunnel. Minecarts sat on the rails, one in particular held the absent members of the Artisan crew; Galles, Nemo and Metaleye all lying still in a single large cage that was pushed along by a few members of the Strawbeard crew. They had all been captured.

The wheels on the rails squeaked into motion, the cage leading the procession as prisoners and pirates started their long walk into the dark, hollow tunnels of Strawbeard's mine.

[Part 1, Fin]
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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Darkhunter
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Anti-Pika Specialist
[ *  *  *  * ]
Thank you for your patience. Your storyline has been reviewed.

Allen 'Allen' Sai13 SD6,500,000 ::beli::Bonuses::
Deductions::

Fran C. Osgrave
10 SD4,550,000 ::beli::Bonuses::
Deductions::

Nemo
8 SD4,000,000 ::beli::Bonuses::
Deductions::

Galles
4 SD1,950,000 ::beli::Bonuses::
Deductions::

Clover
13 SD2,525,970 ::beli::Bonuses::
Deductions::


Galles gets
 
The monocle of truth:
What appears to be a ordinary monocle is actually anything but. When wearing this monocle Galles is able to distinguish when someone is lying to him by some unknown means so long as he is actually watching their mouth.


SL Notes
Edited by Darkhunter, Aug 3 2011, 08:11 PM.
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happiest day ever

Neon is a prophet

the characters

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