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For Justice!
Topic Started: Jul 1 2012, 10:05 PM (671 Views)
KileyBarker
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A True Hero
[ *  *  *  * ]
The, far too small, boat churned forth through the waters. Lieutenant Commander Pierson O' Denshi would be the commanding officer for this venture to the archipelago. He would lead a small crew consisting of five mooks lower ranking sailors and one bum Ensign Volk. Things looked bleak for our hero. Pierson was disheveled to find out the higher ups doubted his abilities. They practically forced him to take these men with him. What could five weaklings and one man dressed like a glorified hobo possibly do to help? It was a pretty shitty situation... Though not quite as shitty as the amazingly awful ship they were given to do the job with. This rotting monstrosity was so shitty if someone bought it from you, you would have to pay them. In fact Pierson was certain the carpenter who made it must have spent negative beli on materials. It was just that shitty.

The Ship


The ship gallantly sailed past Kuroi Village, the first accessible location, and headed towards the middle most island of the archipelago. The mission was simple. Find and capture/kill a pirate known only by the name of Kain, but things wouldn't go so smoothly. If an island full of professional bounty hunters couldn't find this man then how did the marines expect Pierson to do it? It was a silly situation, to say the least. Pierson was visibly upset. Why would his own mind craft such a situation? Was it to challenge him? Was it to test his limits? Or was there a deeper meaning to this all? The marine officer didn't know.

Pierson was a strange one. His philosophical beliefs lead him to doubt every existence but his own. These, "Marines," were no different. The five weak ones were clearly fodder souls Pierson's mind would create to give the illusion that this world was truly populated. The Ensign was different however. He wasn't a conformist. Pierson was truly intrigued by the man.

Ensign Volk was regarded in the marines as... A diligent slack off. He would do work only when commanded to do so. His personality struck the Lieutenant Commander as slothful. He was lazy and apathetic. Of course Pierson hadn't talked much with the man. There was no point in conversing with illusions. People might consider the man crazy if they found him talking to himself.

A solid tangible thought crossed Pierson's mind:

'What if this Ensign was one of the major facets of my own mind? Perhaps my world of wonderful nothingness produced him to test me?! Yes it makes sense now. He represents one of the hated seven sins. He represents sloth. This man must be my own inner child, refusing to grow up and accept responsibility... But wait. He does do work. He isn't always slothful according to the reports. Perhaps he isn't my personal representation of sloth. Could he be... My Id? My instinct? ... It makes sense. He is apathetic and doesn't like to work. Man, due to his nature, tries to conserve energy through lack of motion. It is natural. Man, by his nature, doesn't care about appearances or the like. Yes. This is the solution. This man is my Id.'

This realization struck Pierson like a skydiving Snorlax. It hit him hard and with incredible force. This realization helped to cement Pierson's philosophical view. This world was nothing more than a blank story book, and he was the main character having a baffling adventure through it. But then another realization hit Pierson. Why did his Id manifest itself now? Was it trying to commune something to Pierson? Was it trying to influence him? Perhaps it was just a side character in a story and would quickly be buried under the a mountainous pile of story. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Pierson's instinct had made its presence known to him. Perhaps it wanted this realization to cross him.

While Pierson was incredibly deep in thought the boat quickly approached the middlemost island in the Archipelago, the one that contains Shiroi Village. The boat drifted into the one dock available where a small group of questionable and seemingly disappointed men had gathered. These men must have been the rumored bounty hunters. Perhaps they assumed the shitty ship belonged to a pirate, but the weak background character's marine uniforms caused a general wave of disinterest among the island inhabitants. Pierson jumped ship first. If his Id were here then he must find out why. It must be because of this "Kain" person he was supposed to find and defeat. The man would be tough to find apparently. He had a bounty of 10,000,000 beli and was well known to have disappeared shortly after arriving on the island. Pierson called back to the group of marines behind him, the weak ones were tying the ship to the dock... "We should find him quickly. Let's split up for now. If you find him don't fight him alone. Come back to the ship and report what you found. Let's meet back in three hours time." With those words, Pierson set off walking towards the village.
"And says 'at last' just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
And he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing"

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Spirit
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The ship was certainly shitty. That thought circulated through Sergei's mind every few minutes from the time he got on and probably until the time he got off. And no one in the world could argue that the ship was shitty was it certainly was. And being on it six other Marines, one of which was his superior, made the entire thing even more shittier. But the most shittiest part of the entire thing was that his commanding officer was about his own age, and yet had many more commendations than the the inventor himself. And that really took the top of the shit cake. Oh well, at the very least the shitty ride would soon be over with once they reached their shitty destination.

Speaking of their destination, if the island full of bounty hunters could not find a single man, what chance did simple Marines have. Hell, it wasn't like they were trained in tracking down fugitives or anything. Well, the commanding officer, whose name the doctor didn't care enough to catch, could probably have the skill. Otherwise, why even assign him to this fruitless endeavor unless the Marines were just trying to get him out of their hair. And that made Sergei wonder, what did the shitty commanding office do to deserve being sent on this assignment, unless of course the higher ups thought that this small group of Marines could accomplish what they set out to do. And the Marine really doubted that. Oh well, he was gonna do his job to the best of his abilities and hope to get the maximum commendations he could out of this job.

As they neared the island, the inventor puffed away on his broken cigarette, the cap pulled low over his eyes and the sword laying on the deck by his side. Glancing once again at the commanding officer, the doctor decided that the man was certainly not all there with his constant silent attitude and a passive face. Yep, the higher ups definitely wanted to get the guy out of their hair. Shit, and he was stuck with him. Great. Just great. Oh well, there really was no use to complain since no one would listen to the diligent slack off, not that Sergei minded that at most times. At others, well, it kinda sucked when no one took you seriously. Granted, that happened rarely that he would decide that someone needed to take him seriously, but still, being taken seriously was nice once in a while.

Twenty or so minutes later, the shitty ship was finally docked at their shitty destination with his shitty commanding officer giving some shitty orders that pretty much split them apart and took away any hope of capturing the thief the moment they found him. After all, if they went back to find others, the thief could once again disappear and you would look like the boy who cried sea king. A very shitty situation indeed. Oh well, at least he had a good three hours to just sleep since the shitty commanding officer failed to give the order to actually search for the thief, just to split up and reconvene three hours later. What a shitty commanding officer. Strapping his sword to his waist, the inventor headed off in a random direction, searching for the best place to take a nap, which would probably be a nice hill or a flat rooftop under the sun.

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KileyBarker
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A True Hero
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The well-dressed marine made his way, supposedly, towards the town. The path was well traveled, and the dirt had been beaten down. The foliage along the way was taking on fantastic colors. It seemed to be late autumn on this island. Pierson took in the sights with vigor. What greater purpose could this land represent? Why does such beauty exist? Pierson's mind was blank. He couldn't provide suitable answers to his own questions, and so he simply stopped trying.

Eventually, as it usually happens with an aged canvas, the colors of the world begin to smear. Everything becomes blended together. All things run into one. Only one stoic passive thought, from the very depths of the soul, exists. It is the very thought of existence itself. Pierson was here. That could not be denied. His thought was free. His will was untied. He existed. Pain, sadness, joy, jealousy, and hatred all existed as well. Pierson had experienced them. They were not illusions. They were real. They were his proof. The only link between Pierson and the illusions that inhabit the world around him was empathy.

It is good for the soul when there's not a soul in sight. The path Pierson walked was devoid of sentient beings. Devoid of, supposedly, free-willed creatures. The path, unlike what Pierson had previously thought, did not lead to the main village. A fork, simple in its nature, split the walkway, and Pierson, simple in his nature, traversed down in the wrong direction. SLowly but surely the fantastic autumn colors gave way to a bleaker world. A bog, or a swamp if you will, existed here. The path slowly dispersed before the marine, leaving only water, mud, and undergrowth in its wake.

Pierson's legs stopped moving. He froze in place. There, leaning against a tree, was an old fishing rod. A sign was posted beside it.

Sign
 
If you wish to use ma' rod for the day, leave 10 beli in the bucket. Bait costs another 10 beli.

-Swamp Fisher Jane


This seemed almost asinine to Pierson at first. Why would a man leave his fishing rod out in the open? Why would anyone pay? Wouldn't they just take the rod and be on their merry way? The questions were biting at the marine. Could this be a manifestation of his conscience? Was Pierson's mind debating right and wrong? It suddenly clicked. Everything made sense. This was a test. Pierson's mind was testing him, and he would undoubtedly pass this test with flying colors. Reaching into his pocket, the marine pulled out 30 beli and set it in the bucket. He took the fishing rod in his left hand, and he took the tackle-box with the bait in it in his right. With rolled up sleeves, Pierson walked into the marsh. He was going fishing.

Swamps are awful places. The mud, deep enough to sink a man to his chest in some places, sucks off many a man's shoes. Adventures into swamplands is often best done with a guide of sorts, but Pierson was determined to defeat his conscience in this game. After a few brief moments of mud wading, he finally came across a small stream. The flow seemed to be far too weak this close to the edge of the island. Using logical thought, Pierson concluded that a beaver dam might exist upstream. So he decided to follow the river inland.

When the man finally came across the first pool large enough to hide any fish, he tied on a hook and impaled a worm onto it. With a quick flick of his wrist the hook flew into the murky waters. And he waited. And he waited some more. And he waited a bit more after that. Then he reeled in his line. Pierson was discouraged. Why did no fish bite? Was he an unskilled fisherman? Was he going to lose this battle against his conscience?

"No. I wont lose!" Cried the, now muddy, marine. Pierson's cry was greeted, however, by a very audible shushing noise.

"Sssshhhhhhhhhhhh! Do you want to scare off all the fish?" Asked a hushed voice from behind Pierson. The marine, now scared shitless, jumped a solid three feet into the air where he began clinging onto a nearby spruce tree. The figure of a young woman flashed in the corner of Pierson's eye. After calming down he turned to gaze upon his antagonizing visitor. She was a pretty woman, perhaps in her mid twenties or early thirties, with long ruffled black hair. She wore thick fishing boots, a fly fishing vest, and a typical khaki colored wide brimmed hat. On her chest was a name-tag with the moniker Swamp Fisher Jane written in bold letters.
"And says 'at last' just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
And he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing"

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Spirit
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Now, if he was a thief trying his hardest to hide from the authorities, where would be he hide? Such thoughts ran through Sergei's mind as he searched for a place to take a nap. It wasn't that he wanted to find the thief, in fact, it was the exact opposite, kinda. It was more like the Marine wanted to avoid finding the thief. After all, no order to find him was given, so the doctor decided to take the initiative and stay away as far as possible from the thief. After all, if you were given a chance to sleep for three hours, why waste it. With these thoughts in mind, the inventor passed by less and less houses on his way out of the village. Unfortunately, there were no decent, quiet places to nap in the village, so his search would have to take him outside the village.

Fortunately, the area he finally found wasn't that far away, at most, 5 minutes. Just enough time to take a nap and then walk back in time for the three hour deadline. Taking a draw from the last remaining bit of the cigarette, the marksman dropped the filter onto the ground before setting his sights on the low hill with a single tree on top of it, just outside the village. A few moments later, the bottom of the hill was reached and Sergei began his arduous climb to the top, which took less than one hundred steps and less than a minute. By the time he reached the top, he was out of breath, probably due to all the cigarettes.

Taking a deep breath to get clean air back into his lungs, the doctor sat down with his back to the tree, pulling down his hat down further onto his eyes to shield whatever sun managed to pass through the leaves to fall onto his face. After all, there really was no way for the leaves the completely block out the sun. It wasn't even minutes after the marksman closed his eyes and began to drift to sleep that he was rudely, well, relatively rudely, by someone snoring on the other side of the tree. Letting out a mental sigh of slight frustration, Sergei pulled the cap back up and stood up, looking on the other side of tree. And there, on the other side of tree, was a mountain of a man, just lying there, emitting noises that was the stuff of nightmares.

How the doctor did not see him when he came up the hill, the Marine really had no idea. After all, how hard is it to miss someone so big. Looking closer at the mountain man, the marksman noticed that the man really did not have any other distinguishable features about his besides his size and the bright red beard that reached two-three inches past the bottom of his chin. The clothes were also unremarkable. Just a plain flannel shirt, plain brown pants with suspenders, and plain leather boots. While normally Sergei wouldn't bother with waking the man up and just find another place to settle down, the fact that his time was limited prodded the Marine to prod the mountain man with the tip of his shoe. Receiving no response except more snoring, the doctor prodded the man again, this time a bit harder.

With a grunt, the man finally woke up, sitting up groggily and rubbing his eyes for several moments before directing his attention at Sergei. "You're not a bounty hunter, are you?" the man asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes as he regarded the Marine from top to bottom. "I'm ain't a bounty hunter and would it be much trouble to ask for ya to stop snorin'?." the doctor replied. "Good, well then, I'm not sure if I could, but I can surely try. Name's Kain Lucif." the man said, a smile on his face, extending the larger meat mitt towards the marksman. "Sergei." was all the inventor replied, shaking the man's hand and returning back to his side of the tree. After all, why would you give full name to some stranger that you met outside of a bounty hunter village?

Just as Sergei was about to nod of to sleep again, he was again interrupted by the man, except this time, he was actually taking instead of making scary noises. "I know that I'm probably bothering you, and I apologize for that, so in order to make up for it, how would you like to come and have dinner with me and my family?" Kain asked, by the sound of his voice, earnestly wanting the Marine to come. Said Marine let out another mental sigh. If he went looking for the damned thief, he probably would have been bothered less than right now. But, he really didn't have a reason to be rude, plus, he was getting hungry by this point. "I would love to join ya'll, if it ain't to much trouble." the doctor replied, adding a little more pep and respect that he wanted but which was probably needed. "Oh, it wouldn't be any trouble at all. How about a quick nap and then dinner." the man said, genuinely excited about having someone over. Unbeknownst to Sergei, Kain rarely had any people over due to the nature of his profession. The Marine did not say anything in reply, only giving a nod before drifting of to sleep.

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KileyBarker
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A True Hero
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Pierson was surprised, to say the least. This woman had, seemingly, appeared out of thin air, and she managed to startle the estranged swordsman. How was this possible? This world, known by many as reality, was simply a physical manifestation of Pierson's own mind. Everything was an illusion. The big bad marine had been snuck-up on by a small woman. This wasn't how Pierson's mind normally worked. In fact it was rather rare. The marine had met few female facets of his own personality. Most of the women he had met were simply mookish placeholders set down to give the perception of an actual populace occupying these mighty illusion lands. They were nothing more than background characters. To meet one with enough importance as to actually prove sentient was almost unheard of for the medic. Pierson quickly drifted into another signature super thought stream. He needed to contemplate this woman. Who was she? What was she? Why was she here? These thoughts soon dominated Pierson's mind.

'What could she represent. I am currently working on a challenge against my conscience, and the first thing she said to me was advice to win said challenge. Wait. Her advice seems very simple but complex at the same time. Fish are easily scared and run away. She knows how to capture and vanquish fear.

It is simple then. She is the physical manifestation of reason and logic! Yes. I must use logic and reasoning to defeat this challenge from my conscience, and so my brain sent her down to aide me in this endeavor! I must take advantage of this situation and kick my conscience to the curb. I will defeat my own sense of good and evil with logic!'


Pierson quickly snapped out of his thought stream. He shook his head in a snappish motion to regain his senses. With a quick glance exchanged between the two fishermen/women, both instantly understood the situation. They would have to engage in a mighty battle signifying good versus evil. They would have to battle their own psyche, and then walk away from the ashes of an epic conflict. Both beings, in this one moment, came to the same sudden realization: it was time to fish.

Pierson quickly hopped off of the spruce tree he had so sheepishly embraced but a moment before. Two calloused hands grabbed hold of a muddy shirt and snapped it straight. Those same two hands then set about preparing the hook and bait for another cast. Once everything was ready, both Pierson and Swamp Fisher Jane tiptoed carefully towards the larger pool of water.

"See that log over there?" Asked the fishing woman in a hushed voice.

"Yes." Replied the estranged marine swordsman in an equally hushed tone.

"Brook trout love to hide underneath the logs. Try to get your cast real close to it. Don't actually cast under the log. A fish will tangle your line if you do."

"I hear you quiet and clear." With a quick flick of the wrist, the hooked end of the line flew gracefully through the air and softly plopped into the water just before a drowned downed tree. Withing moments a familiar tug was felt. Pierson quickly snapped the rod backwards, setting the hook. The fish, now realizing it had bitten into a trap, began to fight with all of its might. Pierson began to reel in the rod.

The battle between fish and marine was epic. The fish jumped and fought hard, but Pierson refused to lose. With the look of man possessed, Pierson attacked the scaled beast. A realization crossed the fish. He couldn't overpower the human on the other side of the line, and so he would have to use that human's own power against him. The fish immediately swam to the left near the farther end of the downed tree.

"Don't let him get under the log! He's trying to tangle your line!" Cried out the fishing woman. Her voice was no longer hushed as the excitement and thrill of the hunt had taken over. Pierson panicked. He didn't know how to stop the fish's sidewards momentum, but he was determined not to lose. With an audible splash, the marine jumped into the water. If the fish went under the log then he would to. Pierson was determined.

The fish, upon seeing the splash, let out a bubbly grin. His opponent was a simple fool. With all the grace and speed a fish could posses, the brook trout looped about the massive log five times in quick succession before swimming into a rotted out opening in the wood. The marine tried and tried, but he couldn't move the log. Pierson was too weak. His opponent had managed to escape, and he had only managed to scare away all the other fish in the area by jumping in. This was an utter defeat. Pierson dropped the pole in the water and began walking out before he was stopped by a harsh cry.

"Don't you dare leave like that. Cut the line and take the pole with you. If you don't cut the line that poor fish will eventually just die. Not to mention you are abandoning my pole in the water!" The woman's shrill voice was unamused. She didn't enjoy seeing such a defeated look on a man's face. "Are you going to be on the island for long?" Her final question seemed random, but it was well thought out. The man, Pierson, seemed to not be from the island. His clothing was weird and his mannerisms didn't match those of a Hitsuji man.

Pierson, seeing the logic behind the woman's words cut the line to the pole. He had lost to the fish, and he needed to come to terms with it. Defeat sucked. Losing sucked. But it was something that all men have to experience at some time. Perhaps this was the true purpose of his conscience's challenge. Then the woman asked a question. It was simple yet complex. Pierson didn't have too much time to waste. He would have to go back and meet his fellow marines in a few hours, but they weren't going to leave until the assignment was completed. Pierson then remembered how pointless and impossible the assignment was. He stood no chance at finding this foe who was, no doubt, some elusive master of disguise.

"Well I guess I will be here for a while." Replied the, now despotic, marine.

"That's great. Then hows about coming to my place for dinner? I want to train you. You will become a great fisherman by the time I'm done with you! Oh, and you can meet my husband. He is a wonderful fisherman, but he doesn't like to fish. I think you two would get along well." The woman's request seemed earnest enough. Pierson simply shrugged. What else did he have to do? Find some impossible to find criminal? It almost made the medic laugh. Then a thought crossed Pierson: 'if my reason and logic wants me to do something, there must be a good reason for it. I guess I could. The other marines wont care if I come back a little late anyways.'

"I'd love to come have dinner with you and your family." Replied Pierson in a strained tone. He didn't really want to have fish for dinner, but in the end it had to be better than the slop any one of the mook marines or his Id could make.
"And says 'at last' just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
And he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing"

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Spirit
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It was roughly half an hour later, give or take, mostly give, twenty minutes later, Sergei was woken up from his nap by the mountain man gently, for a mountain man, shaking his shoulder. The Marine opened his eye and had to mentally hold himself together so as to not scream bloody murder when Kain's face was mere inches from his own. "Oh, sorry, sorry." the man smiled and backed away as a single flinch could not be contained by the doctor, causing it to show on his face. "It's fine. Thou I would really 'preciate it if that didn't happen again." the marksman replied, getting up and dusting himself off. "Well, guess we should be off then. Lead the way." Sergei continued, sweeping his arm in a motion that signified from the mountain man to take the lead. "Of course, of course!" Kain said enthusiastically, taking the cue, and moving past the Marine and heading away from the village.

Glancing back at the village, the doctor decided to attempt to remember how much time it would take him to get to wherever they were going so that he would allows himself enough time to get back on time. After all, even though he was lazy, he knew that arriving on time was essential in getting commendations, lest the commanding officer decides to leave him here and continue with the job. And that really wouldn't be good. Not good at all. Not only would he be stuck on the island where there was no Marine base, he would also lose the job, at least personally since the others could still complete it. And both these things combined would prevent him from getting another job and without a job, there would be no commendations, thus pushing back his advancement even further.

As the duo continued through the forest, Kain was bubbling the entire way about one thing or another since the marksman paying hardly if any attention to what the man had to say. Granted that he did catch something or other about fishing and that he had a wife and a kid. And that was pretty much the extent of the information he had gathered from the mountain man. Oh, and there was something about a thief and bounty hunters, but Sergei didn't really pay much attention as he was busy patting down his jacket in slim hope that he would be able to find at least one cigarette. Unfortunately, the last one he had was the last one he had. And that's why the Marine wasn't paying much attention, brooding in his mind about the lack of smokes.

"'Cuse me, you woudn't happen to have some cigs, would you?" the doctor asked, when there was a lull in the conversation, or that's what he interpreted it as. "Sorry, I don't smoke. Ah, we're here." Kain apologized briefly, before spreading some overhanging moss to reveal a cozy looking cottage with a thin trail of smoke escaping the chimney. After the duo passed through, the moss fell back, blocking the cottage from view. If Sergei did not there was a cottage behind the moss, he would have passed it by. "Daddy!" a yellow blur exclaimed and move extremely fast from the door of the house and towards the mountain man. As what appeared to be a little girl in a yellow dress embraced and greeted Kain, the Marine quickly scanned the area around the cottage, noticing a body of water extending from the side and back of the house, leading further in the woods. Whether it was a lake, a pond, or a swamp, he could not tell due to the trees obscuring most of the water.

"Daddy, daddy, who's is this?" the little girl chattered enthusiastically, now sitting on Kain's shoulder. "That's is Sergei, Sammy, and he will be joining us for dinner." the mountain man replied, bouncing the girl up and down. "How're you doin', Miss?" the doctor said, bowing and tipping his hat, which really didn't move much, being a cap. The girl giggled in response and buried her face in Kain's neck. "Now, now Sammy. Oh, has your mommy returned yet?" the man chuckled. "No, she's still out fishing." Sammy replied, her response somewhat muffled. "Well then, how about we get a drink while we wait?" Kain asked rhetorically, heading towards the cabin, still holding Sammy on his shoulders, who had by now returned to the giggling version from before.

Entering the house, the Marine was surprised to find that it was actually rather well furnished. And while most things were wooden, it was the nice and expensive kind of wood. Unfamiliar with vegetation around here, the doctor did not pay much attention if the furniture could have been obtained easily or not. As the marksman was looking around the cabin, the mountain man had taken the girl of his shoulder, who proceeded to run somewhere further into the house, and went to a liquor cabinet, taking out two brandy glasses and a bottle of some dark caramel colored liquor. Within moments, both glasses were filled, one being kept in Kain's hands and the other offered to the Marine. Taking the glass, Sergei wearily regarded it. Who knows what kind of drinks a mountain man kept. "To this meeting, may we always remain friends!" Kain toasted, throwing back the drink. "Hear, hear." the doctor replied halfheartedly, something that the mountain man was oblivious to. The drink slid smoothly down the marksman's throat and down into his stomach. Hmm, not too bad. Not too bad at all.

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Walking through the swamp left an awful feeling in Pierson's shoes. It was squishy and smelled of defeat. The brooding medic was disheartened. How could a world forged of his own mind deny him victory? Such a thing seemed impossible at first. The aftertaste of defeat was bittersweet. Pierson's conscience had triumphed in this test, and now his reason was offering lessons on how to better his conscience. It almost seemed preordained.

As the duo walked towards their goal, the woman made fruitless conversation. She talked up a storm about her husband and their child, but Pierson, in all honesty, wasn't listening. There was some other bullshit thrown in there too. Something about a legendary thief and some kind of love story hiding from bounty hunters. It all kind of went over Pierson's head. The marine was far too focused on getting revenge against his conscience. In fact, Pierson was so focused on plotting his revenge that he never noticed losing his officer's coat while fishing. He was, currently, wearing nothing to distinguish him as a marine... Which would explain a story about criminal activity... But it's not like Pierson was listening anyways.

So the two continued their trek until a small cottage came into view near the edge of the swamp. The woman's face was grinning ear to ear as she grabbed Pierson's muddy sleeve and shoved him under an outdoor shower. After a quick cleaning, she grabbed Pierson's collar and dragged him towards the door. The woman kicked open the door with a loud holler. "I'M HOME! I BROUGHT A DINNER GUEST TOO! LET'S EAT!"

After her quick outburst the woman grabbed Pierson by the collar and flew through the rooms of the house into a dining room where two men were exchanging drinks. The woman threw Pierson down into chair with a loud thud. The, now dumbstruck, marine blinked twice as if he didn't even understand what had just happened. Then, finally, what he was looking at registered in his mind. He was in a small secluded cabin with one massive mountain of a man, his fishing crazed hyper wife, a small girl, and his Id... WAIT WHAT?!

Why was Pierson's Id here? Was this some kind of astronomical coincidence? Pierson's Id, his instinct, was drinking alcohol and enjoying himself. Perhaps it was a sign? If Pierson's reason led him to his instinct on a journey to overcome his conscience, then perhaps he needed to reason that the only way to overcome his conscience was to listen to his instinct?!

'Of course... It all makes sense now.' Thought the medic. The, now weary, marine let out a smile. "Glad to see you, Sergei. Let us enjoy a good meal then." Pierson's voice was platonic. He seemed unamused. He would have to stay with his Id longer, and study his habits. Pierson needed to learn more about his Id, and, subsequently, his Id's secret to defeating his conscience.
"And says 'at last' just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
And he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing"

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Turning his head around at the sound of another explosive voice entering the cabin, Sergei was mildly surprised to see his commanding officer walking in behind a really hyper-looking and sounding woman. And seeing another Marine so far out of the village and the cabin hidden in the woods was something that did not happen often. Not that the doctor had much experience getting invited to dinner in the middle of somewhere, but he figured that meetings like this were quite rare. Some would say that it was fate or some crap like that, but the marksman simply didn't care. Granted, this really simplified his problem of making it to the meeting on time. This way, he could relax as much as he wanted, or at least until his superior deemed it to be the time to leave and continue with their search for the thief.

"Likewise Pierson." the Marine acknowledged the commanding officer with a slight nod. It wasn't that he didn't like Pierson enough to respond in a better fashion. It was more like he didn't really care enough to get to know the man. After all, chances were that after this job, they were going to be assigned to different jobs, unless the higher ups decided that they were doing a good enough job as a team to justify them being in the same division. Judging from how this job was going, this was rather doubtful, unless the higher ups were a bunch of douches and would not bother or care enough to reassign. As such, getting to know Pierson would be a pointless endeavor and contact should be kept to the bare minimum of polite pleasantries. And Sergei was rather happy to keep it at that.

"Honey, why don't you get Pierson a drink while I prepare dinner?" Jane said, giving Kain a kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the kitchen. "Well, here you go my good man." the mountain man said, filling another shot glass with the bronze liquor and handing it to Pierson. asked Pierson, asked Pierson, taking another shot. As the conversation did not include him, the marksman kind of tuned it out, focusing the delectable smell that was coming from the direction of the kitchen several minutes after Jane went it. It kind of made the Marine realize how hungry he actually was, not having anything to eat since leaving the base. While there was food on the boat ride over here, the marksman really did not feel like eating anything on that floating pile of garbage. While he may be considered a delinquent and look like a hobo, he did have some sort of standards. Granted that they did not extend much past food, but still.

About fifteen to twenty minutes later, Jane and Sammy came out of the kitchen and began setting the table. Finishing that, they brought out the meal. Sergei nearly salivated at the sight of golden grilled fish, salad, and some hearty, hard-crusted bread. This meal should turn out splendidly. "Dinner's ready!" Sammy exclaimed, a smile from ear to ear, as soon as the set up was finished. Meeting the Marine's eyes, she blushed once again, hiding her face in her mother's clothes, earning her a laugh from her parents and a polite chuckle from the doctor. A few minutes later, everyone was seated, with Kain sitting at the head of the table with Jane sitting on the other end. Sergei sat by the mountain man with Sammy taking a sea directly opposite him. Where Pierson sat, the marksman didn't really pay attention to, having been completely captivated by the meal before him.

"Alright, dig in!" Jane once again exclaimed enthusiastically as soon as everyone piled food onto their plates.

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The plethora of sweet smelling aromas attacked Pierson's nostrils. What lied before him was not a simple meal. This was a homemade small town just like momma used to make ultimate meal. There were mashed potatoes everywhere. Ribs so tender they fell off the bone were piled by the dozen. This was a feast to end all feasts. The large man, undoubtedly a voracious eater, didn't seem surprised. It was as if he expected this kind of meal daily.

'How can they afford this kind of meal?

...

Tch. Not like it even matters'


With that, Pierson took hold of a large plate and began consumption of the delectable meal in front of him. As the first bite entered his mouth, the nerve endings on Pierson's tongue exploded. Metaphorically, of course. The flavor, if measured in some universal flavor scale, would measure one thousand and six! It was unreal... Or perhaps too real. Pierson couldn't tell anymore! The flavor somehow kicked his ass. The rugged marine slouched down in the chair as if his limbs were made of butter.

What was this sensation? Pleasure, being the only possible description for it, overtook Pierson. He was happy. This was unprecedented! His apathy washed away and the medic's mind was now capable of thinking clearly again. The clouds of doubt washed away with the hurricane of soy sauce. To this date, Pierson had never tasted something like this. He was used to eating marine issued MREs, or Meals Ready to Eat for those less acronym savvy. And let's be honest, MREs tasted like awful mixed with diarrhea.

Then, as if it was in order to break the sacred silence brought upon by the meal, the woman opened her mouth, not to eat but rather, to speak. Pierson's sweet mood turned sour in but a moment. "I was surprised you two know each other. That was quite a coincidence, don't you think?" Spoke the demonic voice of reason. Why couldn't Pierson's logic and reason just shut up? She talked way too much sometimes, and whenever she opened her mouth it was never to say anything interesting. This was a common theme Pierson had noticed.

"Mhm." Grunted Pierson in reply to the woman. The marine deduced it would be better to conserve his energy for more useful endeavors than wasting time speaking to his reason. Pierson's eyes quickly shifted from the woman to the burly mountain of a man. He was huge. Pierson was almost taken aback by his size. What could this man represent? He seemed to enjoy drinking, as he and Sergei had enjoyed a drink beforehand. They poured Pierson a drink too... but the marine's mind was befuddled enough without mixing bufuddling juice in the mix.

The woman, on her tirade against peace and quiet, decided to pipe up with another question: "So what do you two do for a job?" Asked the silence killing Siren. This question, unlike the first, actually struck Pierson as something thought provoking. What was his job? Was being a marine a job, or was it a duty? What is a job? Is a job something you do for a few years to make an income and then quit? No. The word "job" almost seemed to be degraded by that definition.

So what was Pierson's job? Being a marine was something temporary. It wasn't something Pierson had dedicated his life to. Pierson didn't even care enough to look for his cape-like overcoat when he lost it in the swamp. Was his time in the marines really so miniscule? What was something Pierson would always be? He could be fired from the marines at any time, but Pierson could never have his medical knowledge taken away from him. He would always be a doctor. He would always be a field medic.

With a confident expression, and a powerful tone of voice, Pierson exclaimed:

"I'm a doctor."
"And says 'at last' just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
And he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing"

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"Doctor." came the polite response from Sergei at the same time as Pierson's did. There was a hearty chuckle from the mountain man, a semi-psychotic giggle from the fishwife and a tinkling laughter from the daughter. As the family was have a fun time laughting at the expense of the the two Marines, or as they would have said that they were laughing with them and not at them, but the marksman knew better. People rarelly had such good intentions. Even children were not excused either. However, the doctor's main problem was with his superior. It wasn't anything that the other Marine purposely did. It was more likely than not an accident. However, that did not change the fact that it still happened. And what did Pierson do, you might ask? He revealed something personal about himself. And while it would not bother most people, the marksman didn't particularly care to know anything about Pierson. And Pierson was making that kind of difficult. Now Sergei might have to work to forget that bit about his superior. And work of any kind, sucked. Granted that knowing tidbit about Pierson was somewhat interesting, But know enough to actually try to retain any of that knowledge.

Throwing another glance/glare at his superior, the marksman returned to his meal. After only several more minutes during which time the doctor managed to put away only three delectable, succulent bites of the fish, another question came. This time it was from Kain. "So, can both of you keep a secret?" the mountain man asked conspiratorially, glancing shiftily around. However, the supposed seriousness of the moment was kind of broken by the face Kain was making, which looked as if he was just bursting to tell someone. The Marine kind of figured that even if he or Pierson said anything, the mountain man would reveal the secret anyway. "Honey...." Jane said warningly, which was rather uncharacteristic of her, but Kain waving her off, looking expectantly at the marskman, almost ready to burst with exciment. While he was certainly a lazy vagabond, the doctor did catch the sudden change in the fishwoman's voice. And it certainly peaked his interest. And that was something that wasn't easy to do. Now, there was chance that the secret was rather stupid, like having something to do with being older than he looked. Well, he would need to take that chance. "Yes, I can." Sergei simply replied, deciding to humor the mountain man.

Motioning for the two Marines to lean in closer, Kain leaned in himself, lowering his voice to whisper, or at least it was a whisper to him. It was still pretty loud for the average person. If one would look at Jane, one could see her still shaking her head. "Well, even if you two haven't been on the island for long, I'm sure you have heard about the master thief that not a single bounty hunter on this archipelago has managed to capture." the mountain man said, a serious look on his face. "Now, I know I just met you and this might sound crazy, but I am actually that thief. Yes, yes, I know it might be hard to believe, but it is the truth." Kain continued, not waiting for an answer or comment from either of the Marines. "Whoo, glad to get that off my chest." the mountain man chuckled slightly, taking the fork back into his hand and spearing the last piece of fish on his plate. As soon as the fish was secure on the fork, Kain raised it to his lips. However, before it could get there, there was a sound of a hammer being cocked and the mountain man found himself staring into the dark barrel on a revolver. And just on the other side of the revolver was Sergei's calm face.

There was a gasp from the other side of the table and the sound of a glass shattering on the wooden floor. "Lieutenant Commander O'Denshi, please secure the female. She is found guilty of aiding and abetting a known criminal." the Marine did not wait for Pierson to take charge, taking matters into his own hands. This had to be done quickly and he would not rely on some random Lt. Commander to get the job done. "Now, Mr. Lucif, you have the right to remain silent. If you do not, you will be found resisting arrest." the doctor continued calmly, staring right at Kain. "Guess the jig is u....BAM!" the mountain man's response was interrupted by the sound of the gunshot, the bullet exiting the gun and passing through Kain's head and lodging itself in the wooden beam near the ceiling. There were two screams, one from the wife and the other one from the child. The marksman trusted that Pierson would take care of the woman. If not, there were eleven more bullets in the guns. Unfortunately, Sergei forgot about the child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sammy running towards the fallen body of her father, tears staining her eyes. "Why?" the little girl asked, her voice broken by tears. The Marine did not answer the child. No reason to answer someone who was dead. After all, even the smallest seed of criminal intent had to be eradicated. The gun was raised once more, the hammer cocked one more time, another explosion of gunpowder shattered the silence of the air, and another criminal was gone from this world, making it a better place, if only by just a little. Replacing the pistol into it's holster, Sergei drew his sword, walking over to Kain's body. Lifting the head from the floor, the doctor easily separated the head from the host body. After all, there would need to be proof of the thief's capture. Of course, this festering nest of debauchery had to go. "Once you're done with the woman, burn this place down." the marksman strongly suggested, not ordered, his superior, hoisting the head over his shoulder and walking outside. This job was done. Time to take a nap.
Edited by Spirit, Jul 20 2012, 09:52 PM.

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It sounded like it was planned. Both Pierson and Sergei managed to give the same reply at the same moment. What kind of witchcraft could have led to this? Pierson was astounded to say the least. If there was any doubt in his mind that Sergei was his Id, it was not erased. He was more than certain, he was DaisukAIDS positive. These two were connected by the bonds of some kind of higher power. How else could one explain them both coming across the same hidden den on the same mission at the same time? It was too surreal to be a coincidence.

Suddenly the large man lurched forward. Large might have been an understatement, however. He was more of a ginormous. He began to speak in hushed tones to the two marines. Pierson, thinking it might help him figure out the large man's purpose, decided to listen to the words of one of the many fake entities his brain creates. Perhaps this tidbit of information would give him a clue as to the large man's true purpose.

...

Then the large man said aloud what he had been keeping secret.

...

What.

...

Pierson felt like someone had just smacked him with a mackerel for three hours straight. He was dumbfounded. Why the hell would any man give away such a valuable secret to two random strangers he had just met, let alone marines (albeit he didn't know the two were marines). Even without the prior knowledge about such a thing, it seemed asinine. It was almost unbelievable. Pierson, for a moment, wanted to call bullshit. Perhaps he could play it off as simple shenanigans of the spoken word? No. It was too late. Pierson's Id had already jumped the gun, quite literally of course, and discharged his long hard weapon all over the fat man's insides. It was quite a nasty scene. Then, with a very abrasive suggestion, Pierson's Id recommended killing off his Reason.

...

What.

...

Why the hell would the marine medic kill off his reason? Why did his instinct tell him to do it in the first place? What was going on anymore? Pierson's head was swimming like a mermaid on steroids. His mind went into overdrive for a moment. Scenes of his life flashed by him like the individual frames from a den den mushi projector. He recalled all of the times he had ever succeeded while listening to his reason. The results came back in the negatives. Pierson's reasoning and deduction had never once helped him in the past. Either his luck, or his instinct had aided him in his journey through this dream-like world of imaginary proportions.

It all slowly came together. Pierson's reason wanted to die. It let him to his instinct. His mind must have reasoned that his instinct could do a much better job at progressing through this mental journey than reason itself ever could. His reason even failed to defeat his conscience. It was weak and feeble. Reason had led Pierson astray. It was the true meaning behind his defeat. His mind was telling him to forget reason.

Pierson drew his blade and pointed it at the woman's throat. Then with a wonderful grumble Pierson stated, "In order to continue my journey, I must kick reason to the curb." Pierson then thrust his blade forward. The shining metal glinted in the natural light breaking through the window. The window was quickly washed with blood. The woman's final scream grew silent, as Pierson succumbed to his natural instincts in battle. The marine then swung his sword hard, to rid it of the accumulated blood. A single streak of red painted the scenery along the path of the blade. Then, in a single motion, Pierson brought his left hand to the sheath and raised the tip of the blade up and then down in an arcing motion, returning it to the sheath. It let out an audible click as the steel made contact with the rim of the scabbard.

With a quick hop and a skip, the marine medical officer left the office of his own reason and perused down the path of instinct. He slowly caught up to his Id, and with a gleeful tone stated, "Hey Sergei, let's go fishing sometime."
"And says 'at last' just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
And he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing"

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Looks like he's gonna have to do everything himself since Pierson apparently had problems following strongly worded suggestions. One had to wonder how he got promoted to his rank in the first place. Probably kissing ass. Though, the Sergei wasn't sure who would want their ass kissed by that weirdo. And why fishing? Why such a random question? Where did it come from? "I'mma have to respectfully decline, sir." the Marine replied. It wasn't that he minded fishing. In fact, he enjoyed the activity since it didn't involve much work and involved a lot of waiting and napping instead. But it was the fact that Pierson asked that made the doctor decline the invitation. If they somehow met at the same place and the same time to fish, then sure, the marksman would fish with his superior officer. But there was no way in hell that he would go out of his way to do anything that did not involve promotion. All in all, unless they either coincidentally met or it was for a job, he wasn't going to fish with Pierson. Sergei really wanted to tell Pierson off about not following orders, even if they came from below, after all, the superior officer couldn't think of every single thing, but doing so would probably create a host of problems that the Marine had no intention of dealing with.

Dropping the head onto the ground, the doctor stalked back to the house, mumbling something about poor hearing of superior officers. But, no use complain. Better to get this over with and then get back to napping. Walking inside the house, Sergei walked straight towards the liquor cabinet and grabbed several bottles of heavy liquor before throwing them all over the place to coat most of the house in alcohol. Taking a match out, the Marine set it ablaze before tossing it on the alcohol soaked wood, the material quickly on fire. By the time the doctor was outside, the dining room was engulfed in flames, with smoke coming out of the windows. With most of the area being around water, there shouldn't be a lot of fear of the fire spreading. "Lets go." the marksman said offhandedly, picking up the head and walking back onto the main road. Seeing the sun beginning it's descend, the duo set off back to port, reaching the village before the sun complete set. After turning in the head of the thief to the local authorities, Sergei and the remaining Marines turned in for the night. As soon as dawn broke the next morning, the crew, if the this ragtag group of Marines could be called one, set off back to Marine base to report the job done and receive another one.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You sure that man was the thief?" a man asked Sergei, who was lounging in the armchair before the desk, a crumpled cigarette in his mouth once again. "Why do ya doubt me, Uncle Boris?" the doctor replied, puffing out a ring of smoke towards the ceiling. "That's Captain Volk to you even in a private setting, and if what your father says about your personality and laziness is true, then I wouldn't put something like killing some random man and saying that he was the thief just to finish the job." the Marine replied coldly, writing something on a piece of paper on the desk. "You wound me, Uncle. I happen to take my job very seriously. After all, if I don't, I won't get any commendations and won't get promoted." the marksman chuckled lightheartedly, getting up from the armchair, heading towards the door. "Again, that's Captain Volk, and you will receive your next assignment soon enough. Don't screw up too much." the Marine replied in the same cold tone, although there was a slight edge to it was well. "Whatever you say, Uncle Boris, whatever you say." Sergei chuckled and closed the door behind him. "It's Captain Volk!" the doctor heard the cry from behind the closed door. "Make sure Captain Volk doesn't get a heart attack." the marksman said to secretary as he passed her desk on his way to find a good place to take a nap.

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Thank you for your patience. Your storyline has been reviewed.

Pierson10SD ::beli:: 2,450,000 Bonuses:
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