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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 8 2018, 12:53 PM (220 Views) | |
| ♥ Bright | Jun 8 2018, 12:53 PM Post #1 |
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Wannabe Writer
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Cango Town Pier An understated specialty of Rust Pit Island, beyond the special burdum it produces, is the its people's knack for making shacks. Rarely did anyone ever go without a woof over their head at night, when the red rains came, or the choking copper clouds became especially thick. The island was so strewn with abandoned caches of metal that assembling a little hiding hole was usually a simple matter, were anyone to get lost on what was left of the country's outer plains. Small mining hamlets would rise and fall with the sun as workers opted to stay out rather than return to their true homes. Cango Town was one of the few, true settlements, and by the dinky pier a little ways out from the settlement, one particular shack waited. Behind its corroded, corrugated iron walls was a simple desk, and at the desk sat a man in a dull mustard-colored suit. His hair was thinning, forming a ring of silver on an otherwise relatively young, sharp face. He checked his watch, then some of his papers strewn throughout the desk. He spread them out, then immediately collected them up again. "Good heavens," he murmured. Dust fell to the floor as he stood and strode outside the shack to watch the barge come in. It was a miniature floating mountain, strewn with weeks of trash. Local redbirds cawed and tried to pick at the reeking vessel. "Well, the rest ought be here soon too." He checked his watched again. It would be awfully inconvenient if they had no signups. He pulled a flier from within his jacket and smartly read it through half-moon spectacles. Carefully distributed to selected parties the company thought might be of interest and use, the flier promised great wealth and a host of networking opportunities, all for a short time's work. They had all been told to convene at that very spot, at that very shack. The man hoped they would bring their own pens. He did not like others borrowing his, but there were dotted lines to sign. Dotted lines, that might lead to a great many holes punched in the fabric of this country. With a harrumph, he waved to the figures tending to the incoming barge, pointed to the pier, and scuttled back into the shack before the air finished off his lungs with its razor, ashen flakes of rust. he returned to the relative comfort of his seat, crossed his hands and waited patiently. Five sheets bundles of paper lay equally spaced out for anyone to wander through the door. A number of other chairs sat in front of the desk. And, on the door, a notice had been posted; in the loveliest, neatest calligraphy, it announced for people to come in. |
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| ♦ Axel | Jun 8 2018, 08:50 PM Post #2 |
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Aggressively Useless
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What a pile of garbage this island was. The Grand Line sure did have a fair share of absolutely useless locations littered amongst it. Rust Pit was a very appropriate name, it was nothing more than a haven for unpleasant commoners and generally useless individuals. On a usual day, Bled would rather be seen associating with the lesser races like Fishmen or Minks than be observed on this rock of shame. However, he was here on what could reasonably written off as 'business'. That being said, a piece of paper delivered to him that instructed him to show up at a location likely used by the masses to perform barbaric exercises such as manual labour barely counted as actual business. If it weren't for a few rumblings that had caught the ear of the narcissistic merchant he would have brushed it off. Yet the rumours piqued the interest of the man and it wasn't too far out of his way at that. Brushing a spec of dirt off of his suit, the businessman yawned and continued his brief walk through the pier of the little town. Hopefully whatever opportunity presented itself today didn't require him to spend any time on this desolate place. It was rather well established that there were precious resources produced by this island as its predominant reason for existence, though even the lure of profit couldn't convince Bled that spending more than a day here would be suitable for someone of his calibre. Arriving at the promised location, it was nothing more than just another shack. Like all the others, it was rather unassuming and likely required anyone in contact with it to get checked for tetanus. It was definitely the place though, with a neat little sign welcoming in anyone outside. As the gold haired man bit his tongue as to not set off on a rant about how this was not a suitable location to conduct business, he stepped inside the metal death-trap. Inside was as disappointing as the outside. A lone man waited there, seemingly relieved when Bled walked into the room. Chairs laid out in front of the desk that supported piles of paper, well at least they appeared somewhat organised. Briskly making his way to the chair in the centre, the merchant sat down and produced from the inside of his jacket an engraved pen as well as a cigarette and lighter. Placing the pen on the desk in front of him pre-emptively, the merchant didn't even ask for permission before he lit the cigarette. "I do hope this is worth my time, I decided to take a gamble on this considering you were so generous with the details you provided in your little pamphlet. It has been a while since I have had the opportunity to have any fun, usually just a lot of red tape and paperwork. All the usual mind numbing activities. I am sure that this opportunity will be enjoyable, well at least I hope you have not just decided to waste both my time and resources." Immediately trying to establish some level of dominance over what was likely just some worker, Bled had pushed himself into negotiation mode. Taking a puff of the cigarette, he took a quick glance around the relatively empty room. It wasn't as though Bled was particularly early or anything either. "Nice crowd you have here. Not that you need anyone else but me of course. After all, the man of the hour has already arrived." |
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Sami Mohr James Bledsoe The Edge RIP 5ever | |
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| ♣ Alistor | Jun 8 2018, 09:35 PM Post #3 |
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Old Sea Dog
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Rust Pit Island was unlike any other place that John had been. The island itself appeared to be made of a strange red material that did not look like dirt. Of course, no island could be as bad as Stern Rock Island. That island was absolutely dreadful – not the least of which because it was the area he had met Nachan. John could only think that it was a good thing he had left the angry, impulsive, and possibly corrupt marine behind. The injuries the older girl had caused on John’s tiny eight year old body were not as bad as he initially thought they were going to be. He had some internal bleeding but he was able to fix that while he was still on Romulin Island and he hadn’t had any further issues since. Of course, the fall out the window had hurt his back something bad. It was still sore to this day. That was annoying. It had been weeks since he had left Romulin. It had been a rough journey. John had managed to stow himself away on a random ship which – in his ignorance – had turned out to a pirate ship. Luckily for the psychopathic child, they all underestimated John and let him continue the voyage with them. Of course, no self-respecting pirate crew wanted a child travelling with them, so they dropped him off as soon as they could. John didn’t blame them. He did look as if he would be a liability. While he was on the pirate ship, John had managed to get his hands on a flyer asking for someone to come to this island – Rust Pit – to make some connections and gain some money. Now, John wasn’t sure who the flyer was meant for since he was on a pirate ship at the time, but there was no one else around when he found it so John pocketed the flyer and began to look for further passage to Rust Pit as it had turned out that John had been a considerable distance away from the island. Eventually, after a multitude of boats that John had snuck on, he managed to make it to the island in question. Now, John had to locate the meet-up location that was mentioned on the flyer. As he walked, john couldn’t help but wonder why he was involving himself in this. He was a child and a doctor – this flyer didn’t seem to have anything to do with either. Still, he needed money and couldn’t pass up an opportunity to gain some of that. Besides, the connections part was rather interesting. John had nothing to look forward to at this point since he separated from Nachan. He had no direction and the hopeless feeling that creates was far worse than any kick to the stomach that John may endure. Luckily for John, he was at least dressed for the part that he was going to be playing in the upcoming production. John still wore the nice suit that he had picked up on Romulin Island. John’s suit was burgundy with a black undershirt and a tie that matched the burgundy color of the suit. John liked this suit and had done his best to ensure that it stayed in good condition over the last few weeks. As John made his way into the indicated shack, he heard a man talking. He mentioned something about having a crowd. That didn’t seem right. They were the only two in the room other than John himself. Silly man. The man in question had a pale golden color to his hair – which infuriated John slightly and made him think of the dreaded Furikawa family. John didn’t waste time trying to think if he should interrupt the conversation the two were having. Instead, John walked over to the duo and tried to give the two a winning smile. John would estimate its effectiveness somewhere between serial killer and one manslaughter charge. Either way, John’s smile made him look quite demented. “I received this flyer. What job do you need me for”
Edited by Alistor, Jun 8 2018, 09:38 PM.
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![]() The Politician The Archer The Fishman The Orphan The Sea Goddess
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| Cevian | Jun 8 2018, 10:57 PM Post #4 |
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Paiotsu Connoisseur
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Rust Pit Island... Truly an eyesore, but then again appearances could be deceiving. The fact that anyone would live here was testament to the value of the Burdum that was harvested here. One would be a fool to disregard this island's value based on appearance alone. Judging a book by it's cover and all that. Was that the reason why Kanon had her boat en route to such a place? Certainly this mysterious notice was suspicious. It was the kind of thing that she had expected to receive a bit farther down the line of gaining notoriety. There was little chance that it was some sort of trap for her. She doubted the brutes that took over her family's business would come up with such a complex scheme, and her bounty had been removed for longer than she had it at this point. That left little it could be but... authentic. Making her way to Rust Pit she docked the Weeping Cherry before making her way to the specified location, wishing she had invested in something red to wear to match the island's aesthetic. Well at least her normal teal and cherry blossom split kimono would make any stains easy to spot when cleaning. Upon reaching the shack she stared at it with mild disbelief for a short while before walking in, spotting the three current inhabitants. Without saying anything at first she moved over to the far left, when facing the desk in front of them, chair. The child looked quite demented but if this was as Underworld as she was suspecting it was... less out of place. Sitting down she crossed her legs and looked over at them, clasping her hands together. For now she seemed content to silently observe them. From the amount of empty chairs remaining there was no need to inquire about something that would hopefully be soon explained. |
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The Words of Oda Himself Characters
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| LightSenpai | Jun 9 2018, 11:48 AM Post #5 |
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Newbie
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Eliza was fairly used to hearing about islands in the grand line being absolute shit holes, but this redefined that completely. She shook her head almost in shame and embarrassment that she had business here of all places, though it made sense that she would have to go to a shitty place to find shitty, shady people. It didn't bother as much as annoy her if anything. She'd have to get her coat and clothes super washed after this, plus her sword would need to be reforged. It'd be a mess overall but the island did seem to be made out of a strange metal. She'd have to get a chunk of it to test if it could be used in a forge. She could make a killing in theory if she did and Burdum or whatever the stuff was called just a red metal and not simply rusted and/or oxidized iron or some other worthless garbage. She parted her reddish-brown hair as she stepped out, it probably needing cut but her not caring and just liking it well enough as it draped down her back. Her fox-like dog ear pierced, making the chains softly jingle as they rattled, her expression neutral if not a little bored. She shrugged off her coat as she folded it into her bag, carrying most of her possessions there as she hitchhiked her way here and planned to do so until she made enough Beli to get her own ship or tag along with a more...permanent traveling partner, though she knew that that wasn't exactly likely. She could hear voices from inside the shack, which meant that considering this was underworld business meant she was either going to be roped into some awful situation or some asshat gathered people for a job. Both were equally likely and she didn't really care either way seeing as most of her life was the former, taking a seat next to Kanon, her metal piercings not obscured reflecting the light of the room if there was any. "So, what's this job all about? Why us even?" She asked confidently, a slight smirk growing on her face as if she owned the place. She would have put her feet up on the desk or some other dumb shit but she didn't want to piss off her employer right now, especially since she wasn't the only one chosen for the job |
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Spoiler: click to toggle Art is by Poltergiest-El on Deviantart. Cynthia Joëlle Sinclair • Doctor • Weapon Specialist • The Crimson Ghost Pirates • Bounty: 2,000,000 • SD Earned: 100 • Beli: 8,400,000 • Location: Grand LineEliza Collards • Arms Dealer • Blacksmith • No Crew Yet • Bounty: 0 • SD Earned: 0 • Beli: 500,000 • Location: Grand Line, Rust Pit Island
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| ♦ MachoMan | Jun 15 2018, 05:43 PM Post #6 |
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Legacy of Rich Piana
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These pewmans were something else. He could practically sniff their mediocrity as he shuffled along the decrepit streets of Rust Island. Were he able to, he'd have washed this island clean of its filth, but unfortunately he could do no such thing. He was just a mook, a face amongst a crowd in the Grand Line. Practicality was his friend here, and right now, he would have to play along with this strange charade he had been invited to partake in. Togo clutched at the flier he had been mailed, it was an invitation that he simply knew he had to accept. Opportunism was all he had going for him. So, here he was, having hitched a ride across the calm belt before stopping at Rust Island. He was wearing a large black cowl, he had scrounged it up before he had departed. These weren't safe lands for fishmen, let alone for dealing with the kinds of people that Togo knew he was about to meet with. Small white plumes of water vapor drafted up from the hood to form a trail behind him as he walked, his strange body function making his attempt at appearing inconspicuous largely unsuccessful. Still, it was the thought that counted most in times like this. He couldn't trust these pewmans one bit, for all he knew this entire thing might have been a ploy to harvest his organs or something! Who knew what these depraved creatures would do. He got a few stares as he walked across the main street of Cango Town, the rust pit where he was told to meet with his potential employer. Togo pulled the shawl covering up his face a bit higher, though he could not escape the trail of white vapor that followed him as he walked across the red ground. There wasn't any water here, at least the normal kind, everything was just red rust for as far as he could see. Having manuvered through the various shacks of this poverty-stricken shantytown, the fishman at last came upon the meeting place. It was fairly unassuming, a decrepit structure that seemed as though it would fall apart with the lightest of shoves. Any doubt the fishman might have had though was put to rest as he saw the small sign hanging from the front door. This was his stop. Togo opened the front door and squinted his eyes as he saw the various other opportunistic individuals seated opposite. A few questions had been lobbed it seemed. Togo pulled down his cloak and shawl, letting a small puff of water vapor release from the top of his head and neck as he sat down in the last free chair available. He looked the competition over, this whole debacle was going to end with them at each other's throats, he could feel it in his gut- and have you seen a fishman's gut? They were pretty big and tough, the biggest and toughest even! Togo's shifty gaze turned to his potential employer, his eyes asking his question for him, 'what do you want and whats in it for me?', the same as everyone else present. |
![]() Magu Madness Will Never Die Marineboy Rob the Fuqboi Sabu the Sam-Moo-Rai
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| ♥ Bright | Jun 18 2018, 04:59 PM Post #7 |
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Wannabe Writer
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The Mustard-Suited Man smiled politely, much like a retail clerk would a thousand times a day to clients lovely and rude alike, as one by one some of the recipients of the flier, after a time, began to file in and take their places in the shack. Narcissistic to a fault, concise and straight to the point, or otherwise falling silently in line for their instructions. Yes, they would do rather splendid. And if not, well, then at the very least they could put the deniable in deniable assets. Sitting still as a statue, the Mustard-Suited Man finally showed a crack in the stone as his lips parted. "Welcome, yes, welcome. Thank you, first and foremost, for answering our little advert so punctually. I'm sure you have many questions, and I have many answers, so I hope we'll get along fine and well. But, alas, we're not here to talk tea and cake, are we? Business shall be business and march forever on. So, straight to the point." Breaking one hand from the other's clasp, the Mustard-Suited Man gestured to the five bundles of paper expertly arranged on his desk in front of him. "My organisation is looking to expand it's operation to this island, as part of an experimental phase in piercing new markets. Our manpower in these parts is thin, which is where you come in. We have talent agents keeping an eye out throughout the world for suitable candidates, and for whatever reason, your exploits, résumés, or apparent skillsets, seemed just right for our needs." He looked to each of them in turn, his neck turning with all the grace of a clockwork cuckoo just about ready to cry the time. "Your first task is simple; we would like you to deliver several packages to various locations around the island and then ensure receipt of pickup by the intended client. Four packages, to be precise." With extreme caution, the Mustard-Suited Man pushed one of the bundles of papers forward with a delicate finger like he was scared of crumpling the margins or disturbing any of the ink. "Your contracts and information packs for the job. Aside from the usual terms and conditions of employment, each pack contains crucial notes. One has a map of the island with the designated drop sites," he explained, while pointing to left most papers, "while the others each have the code phrases you will need to listen for and reply with in order to properly verify our clients." He gestured to each of them. "If you wish to take the job, all you need to do is sign on the dotted line. Your reward for successful completion will be ten million beli, a piece, and of course I will put in a good word with my employers which, in a way, is likely the more valuable motivation." Again, the Mustard-Suited Man clasped his hands together and smiled like he was up for a much coveted promotion. "You, of course, may opt of the job. If you do, however, decide to work for us, you will officially, for a time at least, be an employee of the Happy Quack corporation." he hastily glanced at his watch so he did not have to break pose or eye contact for any longer than needed. "Mr. Grey's associates ought be done unloading the cargo for you. Take your time to think and discuss among yourselves as necessary, but please don't dillydally. Oh, and I have a pen if you absolutely need one, but please in future make sure you bring your own." OOC
Edited by Bright, Jun 18 2018, 05:03 PM.
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| ♦ Axel | Jun 19 2018, 07:18 AM Post #8 |
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Aggressively Useless
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This was an absolute circus, a freak show of characters. The women in the kimono appeared more or less appeared competent, despite their attires not being appropriate for a business transaction such as this one. The woman who appeared to be a Zoan user also appeared fine, Devil Fruit users were always useful to some extent. Great cannon fodder. The real question marks were the walking child labour law infraction and the shark fishman with a mist of what appeared to be water surrounding him? That couldn't be sanitary. In fact, that was almost certainly a health violation. Nonetheless, this was certainly not the sort of job that Bled had expected but as long as the outcomes were favourable he could stomach working with this ragtag group. As the merchant listened to the pitch, he shot a brief smirk as the name 'Happy Quack' burst into the conversation. So the rumours were true, this had made the entire build up worth it. Connections with such an organisation would help to propel him into a whole new dimension, it would be enough to build a foundation to crush his own father's empire. Even if it was just menial peasant work and the payment was miniscule, the opportunities provided would be invaluable. Picking up the contract on the left and running a quick scan for any of the common pitfalls, the gold haired man picked up his pen and graced the paper with his signature. The man in the foul mustard suit was likely only a cog in the overall machine, not someone worth a second thought. Bled had picked up the map, of course. He already had doubts about the abilities of this group to perform at a level deemed competent, there was no way he was letting any of them lead the navigation. Having a quick glance at the map, all he could do was sigh internally. It seemed as though this wasn't going to be a brief activity. "Well, I suppose there is no point in wasting time with all things considered. My name is James Bledsoe Jr, though I would much prefer if you referred to me as Bled and nothing else. I assume we were tasked to work together for a reason considering that surely none of us here are absolutely useless. At least, I hope that none of us are useless though I am sure each of our true potential will reveal itself shortly. Since the payment is assigned individually, and not a pot we split, I do hope we can work together though if one of you came here with intentions of betrayal then you are more than welcome to try me." Bled glanced at the other four information packets. The Happy Quack group had really made this an absolute pain in the ass. Was this some kind of trust building exercise or a contingency plan? Either way, not having complete control made the merchant unbelievably uneasy. He would play along and act nice for now but if a situation arose where he would have to act against the intended agenda he would. Happy Quack was big but if Bled had to pivot to another group with some chips on the table then that would not be the worst plan in the world. "We have points all over the entire island and without knowing our clients it may not be within our best interests to keep them waiting. I would usually suggest splitting up but the way the information has been divided that may be impossible. I suppose this is intended to be a group discussion so if you have any suggestions please do speak up."
Edited by Axel, Jun 19 2018, 07:27 AM.
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Sami Mohr James Bledsoe The Edge RIP 5ever | |
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| LightSenpai | Jun 19 2018, 11:18 AM Post #9 |
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Newbie
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Eliza sat there and kept her eyes on the fishman briefly, not exactly sure how he was making the water but curious enough. If she could somehow manufacture such an effect it might be a reliable method of icing Devil Fruit users, assuming it was just a dome of water. She didn't exactly understand at first what the man meant, but it became more clear by the second the packets were introduced, though what got her attention was ten million Beli for each job for each person. Her ears perked up and she just about smiled like a giddy schoolgirl, though she held her composure. That on top of connections to Happy Quack would be beyond amazing and nothing less than both suspicious and implying there was a catch so this wasn't easy. Seeing the first packet taken, she looked over the packets as she mulled over which she should choose, plus the five packets confused her given there was only four people here including her as fas as she was aware, though upon double checking she simply miscalculated. She knew for damn sure it mattered which packet she took since it depended on what information she was given. She also very much registered it possible that one of these people could kill her the moment she opened her mouth about what info she had, which would have been less than optimal to say the least. She had a gut feeling that it was best to choose as not to seem incompetent, her hand moving towards the leftmost package. She had a few odd and admittedly stupid superstitions, one being that since the heart is on the left side of the body, it's usually the better option outside of things that clearly didn't work that way like defusing a bomb or something. Though she knew Bled was shady by any degree of certainty though he was good looking nonetheless. "Got it, I'll play nice. It'd be stupid to not do that actually considering our situation."
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Spoiler: click to toggle Art is by Poltergiest-El on Deviantart. Cynthia Joëlle Sinclair • Doctor • Weapon Specialist • The Crimson Ghost Pirates • Bounty: 2,000,000 • SD Earned: 100 • Beli: 8,400,000 • Location: Grand LineEliza Collards • Arms Dealer • Blacksmith • No Crew Yet • Bounty: 0 • SD Earned: 0 • Beli: 500,000 • Location: Grand Line, Rust Pit Island
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| ♣ Alistor | Jun 19 2018, 12:14 PM Post #10 |
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Old Sea Dog
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Character after Character walked in before John received his response. He wasn’t upset about not getting an answer immediately – it made sense to tell everyone only once rather than repeating oneself. Still, the cast that entered the shack. A girl with a kimono on, another girl not in a kimono (they would be known as Kimono and Not-Kimono from now on to make things easier for John), and some weird fish-human hybrid. Maybe it was the result of experimentation. If so, then John yearned to meet the person who created this creature. That white vapor that seemed to come from its skin was quite unusual. Was it water vapor? John wasn’t entirely sure, but he was curious. He would make sure he got a blood sample before the odd entourage parted ways. As Yellow-Suit talked, John listened. He didn’t interrupt – that seemed unwise in this room. Besides, he was interested in this job. The more he thought about it the more he thought he was in it solely so that he could be self-sufficient. He had been taken care of by Nachan and her corrupt marines for a time. He did not enjoy that – though he did miss his workstation and the vials of blood he had gathered. He had almost perfected a new poison. Alas, he would need to restart. John scowled slightly when the man said that they had a task. It made sense. One worked to get paid and be self sufficient, but the way the man said task left a sour taste in John’s mouth. Though, that much money would definitely make him able to support himself. Maybe he could buy new medical supplies or his own boat. He needed those things desperately if he wanted to resume his research. John did have a pen, luckily, so he walked over to the paperwork to sign it. The whole idea screamed of releasing control of himself – but he could decide not to do it and ultimately this would benefit him in the end. John read through the contract once – though he had no idea what to look for. One of the men began to talk as John signed the paperwork. His name was Bled? Whatever, he seemed to want to take charge. John was content with that for the time being – until he wanted something to happen that John disagreed with, at least. John grabbed a package at random before replying to the two that were seemingly conversing – though John really had only listened to bits and pieces. “I’m John. You can call me….uh…John. I don’t really have a last name. I’m more than happy to work with you, though I hope you don’t mind if I get blood samples. I’m particularly interested in the giant fish person’s blood. Something different is going on in his DNA…” John said, eyes moving directly towards the giant fish person. Did John have any vials on him? Shit. No. He would have to make sure he picked up some vials before he left this island and lost sight of that….thing for good.
Edited by Alistor, Jun 19 2018, 12:15 PM.
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![]() The Politician The Archer The Fishman The Orphan The Sea Goddess
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| Cevian | Jun 25 2018, 08:20 PM Post #11 |
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Paiotsu Connoisseur
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Kanon continued to sit in silence as the others made their way into the room. None of the new arrivals nor the ones that were already there seemed to concerned with her quiet arrival so there was no need to break her own silence. After it seemed like everyone had arrived the mustard-suited man began to go into detail about why they were here. “Happy Quack” was a name she had heard of. Picking up the contract she looked through it in slow and painful detail. She wasn't going to sign anything from anyone as suspect as this without making sure she had ready over every line. Most of the others went ahead and signed them and took their packets. Finally she pulled a pen out of her kimono and signed the document, returning it to the table and grabbing one of the remaining packs. It seemed like someone else had grabbed the map. Disappointing. After looking through her pack she turned to the others. ”Good day. I am Kanon,” She said, keeping her last name off the table for the time being. Whether they recognized it or not it wasn't like it really had any weight to it anymore. ”Apologies for not speaking up sooner but there was little reason to speak up until we were all here.” Turning towards the small child she said, ”I do have to say that I do mind if you try to take some of my blood. That is a rather strange thing to ask and I don't think I want to agree to it so readily. What do you even plan to do with our blood to begin with? I can think of few things that I would consent to.” Crossing her arms she waited for an answer. She wanted this... request to be settled before they got to work so it wouldn't seem like they consented to it. OoC
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The Words of Oda Himself Characters
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| ♦ MachoMan | Jun 26 2018, 01:07 PM Post #12 |
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Legacy of Rich Piana
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Happy Quack? He wasn't overly familiar with their line of work. Togo had only really known some of the notable pirates sailing across the Grand Line, he only knew what information trickled down to his corner of the Blues or what the old retirees on Shipwreck could cough up and tell him. The steamy fishman squinted his gaze as he looked down at the smaller pewman, why did he look like a mustard bottle? If it weren't for the easy money that a job like this could nab him, the tiger shark fishman probably would have left by now. Ten million gil was a lot for a rookie like him, he could use that kind of cash badly seeing as how he didn't have a ship to speak of. The man stayed quiet as he heard some of the other vagabonds begin to speak in turn, grabbing their respective packets with little fanfare. The first one to talk was a pewman, Bled, who seemed to be the proverbial ketchup to the mustard man. He talked a bit about being keen to reluctantly stick together for the sake of this job. Like most pewmans, Togo didn't trust him as far as he could throw him. The non-kimono female in their group took her packet next, giving a few curt remarks. It was the strange pewman who spoke freely of taking a sample of his blood though who earned a disapproving frown from the quiet fishman. That was just rude now wasn't it? "I am Togo" the shark fishman said as he reached down for the last remaining packet on the table, looking its contents over before silently slipping it back into its casing. That was all he had to say really. The man instead grabbed the free pen offered by the mustard-man and leaned down to sign his name on the contract like his newfound-colleagues had done. The good thing about being a man with nothing to lose meant that a deal with the devil felt a little more like a deal with the 'hard place' instead of the rock. Either way, Togo found himself in the company of both compatriots and rivals, it was a unique dynamic to say the least. Bled seemed content to offer group discussion about some sort of plan, but Togo didn't really have anything to lob at them to think about at all. Instead, the fishman sort of stared blankly at him and the rest of the group before standing up and looking to the door. "A group could attract attention, moving in smaller groups could be better" he thought aloud. Happy Quack may not have been the only people on this island after all, they'd need to be careful about how they carried through their delivery or else face the wrath of angry locals or law officials, let alone other underworld mobs.
Edited by MachoMan, Jun 27 2018, 01:52 AM.
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| ♦ Axel | Jun 27 2018, 12:58 AM Post #13 |
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Aggressively Useless
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"Well if we were to split up into two groups, just judging from the map, it would make sense to go with packets 2 and 3 in one group and 4 and 5 in the other." Bled mused over the potential routes to take, for the most part the peasants had offered little more than a brief nod of approval to the idea of dividing the group. He had decided it was best to ignore the child asking for blood, there was no way he was falling for the old fake paternity test scam. Well, to be fair, Bled had a fairly rigorous policy to avoid little children who likely felt at home in back alleys. He'd likely have to watch his back, little children always tried to attack from unorthodox angles. What a pain. Hmm, packets 2 and 3 belonged to the girl who had yet to introduce herself and Togo the fishman. As a result, the other group would encompass Kanon and the crazy (likely borderline evil) boy known as John. It wasn't ideal but kimono girl had been the only person to acknowledge the ramblings of the boy publically so she was probably competent enough to deal with it. All that was left was to decide which group the merchant would join. "Okay, here is the plan. Kanon and John will group up and do their part and the other three of us will take care of the rest." It didn't take particularly long to decide that avoiding the wannabe vampire was best for business. If Bled was capable of feeling guilt, he definitely would be quite apologetic to Kanon with the burden he had just placed on her. It was a good thing that he frankly just did not give a fuck, if she couldn’t deal with this problem then she was frankly useless in the first place. Plus on the unfortunate case that one or two of the members on this job were eliminated, well Bled certainly wouldn't be opposed to raking in more of the credit. "I suppose I have no choice but to divulge where you two need go since we may not be able to stay in contact later. You may want to listen closely because I do not particularly feel like repeating myself. Firstly, packet 4 is more or less directly south from our current location. It's south east of the village that you'll find there, I'm sure you'll be fine to find that. After that, you can just head east and go the Smelting Plant. Packet 5 should be there." Running over the details in his mind again to make sure he didn't miss anything, the man with pale gold hair turned his attention to the two he had decided to work with. He had already given out more information than he had hoped, it was imperative he didn't give out any more in order to maintain his importance in the game. "Well, I suppose there's no point wasting daylight. We should knock out packet 2 first since its closest. We need to go a decent way out east to the middle of fucking nowhere. This could take some time so we should grab the cargo and start moving out." |
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Sami Mohr James Bledsoe The Edge RIP 5ever | |
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| ♣ Alistor | Jun 27 2018, 02:11 PM Post #14 |
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Old Sea Dog
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Kanon was her name. An adult judging by her build. Human. Average. Boring. But, at least she spoke up. Everyone else completely ignored his request for blood. He could’ve just not asked and just taken it, but he had asked so he would respect her wishes…for now. “Blood is useful for many things. Testing poisons for one. Though….” John looked Kanon up and down quickly – not in a lustful way. He was too young for that, though he had learned from Nachan that humans past puberty engaged in love and lust. No, he looked her up and down like he was looking at a piece of meat being sold by the local butcher. “I’m afraid that I don’t want your blood. At least, I don’t unless you have a devil fruit of some kind.” With that, John turned to listen to the rest of them speak. The fishthing’s name was Togo. Interesting. Maybe he would tell John where to meet more like him. He would have to ask later. Then, Bled began to speak. He droned on and on about what their plan was but John only paid attention to two parts of the plan. First, he was paired with Kanon. That may have been for the best since she already made her desire not to give a vial of blood to him clear. Second, she made him think that she was like Nachan if Nachan didn’t have borderline diagnosable anger management issues. John liked the familiarity. “Before we head off, we go south of here until we are southeast of the village but…uh….what are we looking for? Just some random person or will there be a landmark of some kind?” John asked the question as nicely as he could. He wanted the answer, as travelling south until they ran into whoever they needed to deliver this package to seemed like a bad idea. |
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| Cevian | Jul 2 2018, 09:16 PM Post #15 |
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Paiotsu Connoisseur
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Kanon looked over to Bled as he began to delegate tasks. This whole ordeal was going to be a tad annoying as long as they had their information separated like this. She'd trust them as little as she had to in order to get this done. It was at least a sign that he thought she was some level of competent. The issue was the responsibility that he had heaped onto her as a result of that competence. If only she had managed to get her hands on the map instead of him. Oh well. ”Bled, was it?” She said, stepping a bit closer to him, mostly to see how he reacted to the action. ”I agree that given the specific circumstances of this assignment, keeping the information that you must keep from us a secret is understandable, I would like you to at least consider that not even the most basic of trust has been established between the us. I'm not suggesting that we forestall this task so we can do something so asinine as trust exercises, but I would like to say that there is a bit more to taking command than merely giving out orders. At least try to put yourself in the position of being one of us that lacks access to the map.” John, the one she had been grouped up with, also brought up some good points. ”Ah, there is also that. Where to go and what to say are nice and all but without more detail on who we are to look for then we will be spending quite some time trying our code phrases on various people, which could draw suspicion.” The child was probably a bit more competent than the others took him for given his age, a mistake they might pay dearly for in many other circumstances. |
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The Words of Oda Himself Characters
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