J'adoube [WHITE HUNTERS]

[thormundsson]

It had been nearly a week since the massive battle at the ports of the Illusia Kingdom and the healing of the base was proceeding well, even if it was at a slow pace. It was amazing how effectively the marine forces went about the business of rebuilding the place. Men and women were at work everywhere, from the shore to the inland walls, fixing up everything that had been damaged. And the damage had been great, the amount of material that was needed was astounding but it had not proved much of a problem, the marines were gathering up every bit of stone, wood and iron that could be scrounged up from the island and bit by bit the fortress was taking on a new shape. It was sturdier now, it's walls thicker and the arrangement of the main facilities had been changed. The offices of the higher ups were now closer to the inland wall but the main prison area had been moved to the center of the base, thus making it impossible for anybody to escape without notice.

The medical facilities were full to the brim, with soldiers and a few civilians being cared for by every nurse and doctor that could be drafted from the kingdom. Quite a number of men had sustained injuries and some were very seriously hurt. They lay in makeshift beds and the regular rooms were filled to the brim, with men laying around, trying to make the best of the overcrowded hospital.

In one of the end rooms on the second floor Tomas was having his cast remade as he had been rather unsatisfied with the first version. Despite his injuries he had been moving since yesterday, trying to gain some sense of organization to his new role. It had been briefed to him when he woke up. Apparently he was re-instated to some degree, though he would be under the supervision of Smoker. His official work would be strategist and logistics manager for the Hunters, something he found rather delightful. His mind was made for such meticulous work, not the chaos of simple combat. Besides, there were plenty of fighters in the Hunters that could suffice in the simple role of a fighter. Once done with the check-up on his wounds and the resetting of his cast, he hobbled out of the medical facilities and made his way towards his makeshift office. He was dreadfully slow on his legs and he could barely do anything beyond breathing with his lungs. Laughing, seldom as he did that, caused him quite a bit of pain and he didn't particularly like shouting either.

The three walls with a large tent over them were a somewhat strange thing to call a office but given the current situation he couldn't have asked for more. Most of Smoker's crew and soldiers were camped around him, close to the damaged hull of the prototype. It was a lot of soldiers and most of them were just camped in simple tents. Tomas considered himself lucky that he had been able to acquire a place to keep a desk for himself. Already he had tried to make heads and tails on the crews logistics and supplies. With the ship gone it seemed like he'd have to send for almost everything from the HQ, down the the very ship itself. Then there was the task of going over each member of the crew beyond the regular marines. He glanced over the profiles he had of the people, something he had made yesterday from the official profiles as well as some information he gathered from the other marines in the crew.

"Tashigi, good swordsman and a fair commander...that fits. Haines is fine as a supporting fighter for now, nothing much to add there.....wait a minute....Rivers, another swordsman and perhaps not the same quality as Smoker's aide...humm" He contemplated almost out loud, calculating the effectiveness of the crew in every numerical way he could. River's case was bothering him slightly, the man was a wild card, something that Tomas wasn't very enthusiastic about but he hadn't worked with the man enough to know how to handle it. Still, the fighting capability of the crew was dropping a dangerous 8% because of this, the diversity they needed wasn't provided by the current fighters. "Too many close range, weapon based, fighters...something will have to be done" He mumbled to himself as he kept running over the profiles.

Then an idea struck him, something that he could do to increase their potential. He picked up a den den mushi, connecting him to the main communications facility on the island as he wrote down a letter to a contact of his at the HQ. "Can you ask lieutenant Rivers to join me down at the docks, I need a word with him" He said calmly as he made contact with the HQ, he had to discuss a few things with the man...

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'B-Be careful with it please!'

Sscccccccrh~

'I know what I'm doing, marine.'

'... Its very valuable to me a-!'

Sscccccccrh~

'Yes, yes, leave it to me.'

'And watch for its handl-!'

Sscccc-!

'Ma'am!? I am a sword-smith!'

[/right][/div]

'Yes, of course.. I'm sorry.' She bowed in her retreat, sitting there while her most prized possession screeched agaisnt a sparking contraption wasn't doing her any favours towards its well-being, it was in need of some serious work after all, and her quick-fixes only worked for so long at sea. But she had nothing to do, everyone who she could unintentionally bother were actually doing things, where being the very punctual and hard-working marine that she was, had already completed all of her aftermath tasks across the board. She only took a few steps from the set up tent the overseas professional had set up in for emergency maintenance before tumbling back into another make-shift seat with a drawn out sigh. The clack it caused however did remind her of another piece of weaponry in need of investigation. Its sheath nearly squashed in her decent as she forgot she even had it on at the time. She hadn't drawn it since the battle, maybe it shouldn't even again. She wasn't going to use two swords, and one of this quality was either going on display or to someone who wouldn't know of its value.. A dilemma indeed. She attempted to mumble to herself things to do, tasks she may have overlooked, things she could do for the sake of passing the time. This lull was welcomed, but never fully appreciated by any marine under Smokers command, every moment of peace was just an extension of the term calm before the storm.. This actual down-time was well, just that.

'Y'know if you sit in a corner mumbling to yourself, its not just your rank people are going to question.' In a dumbfound glare at the sheathed blade her head as well as her arms flew into the air from the voice, playing a moment of juggling with it before grabbing it again tightly in both hands and looking to see the culprit of her momentary spat. Bandaged to a fault and sporting much more casual clothes then the marine rookie attire, her comrade in battle stood over her with a chuckle about his breath at the state of her. This being the Tashigi who hadn't even changed or tended to her scraggy clothes, nor her injuries since that skilled doctor who caught her just after the battle. 'Keeping it up like that? Doesn't look bad if you're thinking of making it the norm.' He tapped to the back of his head, her own hands mimicking the movement to surprise herself with a ponytail, she had forgotten to untie it.. With so little to do her over thinking made her ignore the little things that needed doing. As if it was some sign of shame her hands quickly defended it from view, only to receive a laugh from the quickly tangled fingers within the band that kept it in place. 'Leave it, makes you look more official, like your ever so graceful inspiration.' Horne gestured to is general self before looking over to someone calling his name. He offered a hand, quickly taken by the Swords-woman before motioning to the horde.

'Find yourself a job 'Shigi, not like the White Hunters to dilly dally, eh?' and with her head patted, her slow responses of defensive flailing, and a flushed face afterwards had him jog off to the task, leaving Tashigi without even small talk to her name. Looking at other doing tasks all around her didn't much help her feelings of inadequacy either, but looking at what they were doing only had her imagining what would go wrong.. no familiar place to rest, no ship to return too even! Just a giant ship with untold nooks and crannies holding all sorts of information that a person otherwise busy may miss in the collection of treasure and plans..

Wait a second...

The place seemed desolate, probably left as a lower priority of importance besides the casualties and on-island repairs. Cleaned up and pushed further down the dock, but that's all that had been done with it within the week she had been there. With her sword in good hands and a walk away should anything worry her, Tashigi was inbound on a moments thought, anything to move her from that one seat. Rumours of it being used as a marine vessel instead of being sent back as a prototype had been cycling around the rookies for days now, but Smoker had always been too busy to attend to Tashigi's curiosity. None the less.

His right hand woman was on the case.
[/size][/blockquote]

[Kurosaki]

Just a week ago, Lance wouldn't have imagined that his position would have changed so drastically. Already he had moved up from being a Warrant Officer to a Marine Ensign. About three days ago he had even sent a letter to his childhood friend, who was also in the Marines, bragging about his latest promotion. From what he had heard, she was still a Seaman Recruit. But Jasmine always had one of those sneaky ways about her where you thought you were winning and the tables suddenly got flipped on you.

Right now, Lance didn't know how to go about really getting used to his new position or his team mates on the White Hunters. His joining had been pretty sudden and then Smoker had left pretty quickly on a different assignment.
All he knew about his new crew was mostly what he knew about Tomas. The man was an ex-convict, to be sure, and had only started being an ex a week ago. To be sure, the man was brilliant and a great strategist and fighter. He had certainly made Lance believe in him enough that the blond had stood up for him despite the risk to his career.

Tashigi...?

Well, she honestly was a mystery to him mostly. Well, outside of the fact that she had nearly killed him in their first meeting by mistaking him as a pirate (at least, he hoped that's what she had mistaken him as). Regardless, she seemed pretty uptight and didn't seem very fond of starting to be social with him. Though, perhaps that was because she was Smoker's right-hand woman and had no time to get to know the underlings.

Then there was River. He seemed to have experience and skill. Also, out of the men under Smoker that he had met so far, he seemed the most friendly. So far, with all the work in repairing the base, he hadn't had the time to talk to him though. Perhaps now that would change seeing as how most of his assignments were wrapping up.

Turning, he praised some of the men that had been working in their area as a pat on the back. At least they really knew how to work together even if he only had caught a few of their names so far. He would get better at knowing who was who over time, however.

Maybe he should check in with Tomas and see what was going on with him. The Marine Ensign didn't even know which rank that he had been reinstated as. Would he actually have been put back in his old rank? If so, ironically, he would be above Lance himself.

The Marine placed his arms across his chest and shook his head at the thought. What a weird world he lived in, huh?

Well, he couldn't disagree with anything that had transpired, of course. In fact, he was glad that things had worked out the way that they had. On his way to Tomas' office, he had to ask for some directions but he finally found the small tent.

As he pulled open the flap to the tent and looked inside to see if anyone was there, he overheard the end of a conversation where Tomas was asking to see River.

"Hope he's not in trouble," Lance said sarcastically as he gave a wave from outside the tent "Because, you know, it'd be a shame to have to throw him in jail or something." Lance's direct humor could be a tad too... Well, direct. He liked to say what he was really thinking and try to be humorous about it at the same time. Sometimes it worked in his favor but most of the time people tended to take it the wrong way. In this case, Lance was just poking a little at Tomas but not meaning it the wrong way.

"Permission to enter, sir?" he questioned, making sure to be polite in that regard so he didn't step over his bounds if Tomas really had been reinstated all the way to Marine Commodore.

[Aubs]

Down the pier by the tent city that had been erected to house Smoker’s troops while they recouped under the protection of the Ilusia Kingdom, and of course to keep them occupied doing small tasks while the crew figured out just what the hell they were going to do without a ship, sat a single man on a throne of crates watching a small knot of marines practice their swordwork. That single man, a blonde veteran of nearly 10 years in the force was none other than River A. Rutherford, Chief Petty Officer in the World Government Marine Corps and a proud member of Vice-Admiral Smoker’s White Hunter Division. A majestic as all that sounds however the man himself didn’t appear as ravishing as he slumped against the crates, clearly still nursing his injuries from not long before and the battle of Ilusia Harbor.

His old clothes had been reduced to tatters, so now he wore a new pair of blue standard issue pants, black issued boots, and a nifty tight-fitting black fleece thermal with a zipper on the front reaching to around his chest, which he had opened to let whatever sea breeze there was at this time of day come through. His hat had remained through it all somehow, sun-stained and still sitting backwards on his head, tucking his blonde hair away. In his right hand was gripped lightly his new tonfa they had dug up and refitted from the prototype. Arashio had made away like a bandit indeed, with more firepower than they had even known about. The ship must have been closer to completion than expected if it had been stocked with weapons, especially of this caliber. All of this was of little consequence though, as all River could do at the moment was watch his soldiers train with one another and grumble about things they should do differently.

Completely unaware that the rest of the division was currently discussing his abilities or decided lack thereof, River took instead to real work, the training of his squad. At the moment His Petty Officer, Mr. Wilde was going over the motions when fighting another sword user as each of his blue-bandana’d fighters tried to keep up. River insisted that each member of his team had not only a flintlock pistol but a sword as well, but they still had much work to in order to become proficient with the weapon. Before too long the Chief had seen his fill, and even as he still gripped his ribs, which were heavily bandaged under his new fleece, he slide down onto the ground and approached his rookies.

“You’re leaving yourselves open. The reason you can’t beat Wilde is not because he is better, its because he is smarter, he has more balance.” Flipping his tonfa around so that he held the handle like the hilt of a sword, with its second handle facing forward like a pommel River made his own fighting stance and continued explaining. “Marcus, you’re leading with your face, you’re going to get your head cut off. Whichever foot is your back leg has to be strong. Petty Officer Wilde!”

Without any more of a cue the blue-haired Petty Officer lunged forward with his blade, directly at the Chief’s mass. Side-stepping to his left he let the man blow by and immediately pivoted off his back leg, creating more space between the two men. As Wilde swung around and tried to clip his leader with what little of his sword he had available now, River used his newly positioned back leg to lung forward, drawing his tonfa up and stopping it just before impacted point first with Wilde’s chest. Wincing slightly River relaxed his battle-tensed body and continued explaining.

“Your back leg has your power, and your feet have your balance. Unless you get your feet under control then you all are just swinging around sticks. Now try it again one at a time with Petty Officer Wilde and make sure you keep your body in line.” Moving a bit too gingerly back to the stack of crates he selected a lower one and blobbed down to watch the instruction continue. The fighting had taken a great toil on him, more so than the rest of the crew he thought. River would have liked to say that it was because he had been given a tough assignment and little help, to secure and hold the pier, then to deliver reinforcements to the true battlefield. Regardless of all that however he knew the real reason, that despite his ability to lead and to fight he was too normal compared to the rest of the leaders of the crew. He might have been able to inspire the men to fight if Smoker wasn’t around, and he might have been able to plan an attack if Tashigi wasn’t there, but he was neither as skilled as either of them individually, and without the ability to fight the stronger foes that they would meet on the Grand Line then he was just a liability.

Sighing to himself, River closed his eyes and wondered if perhaps he had fought his last battle as a warrior, and if perhaps he would be shipped off once again to a training assignment so that the fighting could be done by the best and bravest.

What a shitty morning it was turning out to be.

---

---

Song!

[thormundsson]

After sending a runner for River Tomas took a few moments to go over the paperwork that he had on his desk. This was his third overview and look at the almost 200 pages of manifest information and every vital detail on the people that were assigned as members of the White Hunters. It was quite something how well the wheels of the system moved when need was great. It didn't hurt that the former intelligence officer had called in a few favours, as well as offered to owe a few, with old contacts at the intelligence department. A slip of a note here and there made all the difference in hurrying along messages and orders. He had been reinstated to the rank of a Warrant Officer and placed in command of the resource management of the crew. Whilst it was somewhat below his original rank he knew that he was paying the price for his lack of focus years ago. He made a mental note not to do that again, it would most likely cause him to lose his life the next time. He estimated, as calculations based on no solid numbers would never be accurate enough to satisfy him, that he might have something close to a 6% chance of being saved by such a strange turn of events as he had encountered on this very island only a few days ago.

He heard something akin to a voice not far from him but he was so deep in thought that the voice seemed a faint echo at the moment. He had to focus on his work more than usual as his brain kept trying to move his broken arm, something that caused much displeasure to the rest of his body when it happened.

Going over the papers he was trying to estimate how he might help the crew gain some greater strength or how it's members could individually be made more efficient. Compared to a regular crew of the same caliber they were at a mere 79% efficiency. This number was only so high because Smoker was exceedingly tough and quite proficient at all his fighting styles. But there was a lack of focus there, that much was certain. Tashigi he trusted to be capable of improving herself as much as possible without much interference from the outside. Her records showed that she had overcome nearsightedness that most would have considered excuse enough to stay on medical leave for the rest of their careers. It was impressive how much will she had to improve and Tomas doubted that he could improve her much on his own, save in one category.

Smoker was a simpler formula to solve than Tashigi. Whilst he possessed the same insane strength of will and fighting resolve that marked most high ranking marines he was, as was the problem with most such fighters, relaying heavily on the powers of his Devil's fruit. If the reports from the Whitebeard War, or the War of the Best as it had come to be known, it was obvious that the smoke user was not going to progress much further without improving in some field. What the commander of the White Hunters as well as his second-in-command would be required to learn was as obvious in his mind as answers could be. The two would have to learn how to master the abilities of Haki. This simple answer carried with it far more problems than it's obvious nature revealed. For one the he had no knowledge of Haki or how one would master it. It was a strange concept and one that he'd never gotten used to, something about the innate understanding of a man's spirit and the flow of will. For a man who relied so much on pure facts and hard calculations Tomas had quite a problem grasping this concept. He had sent out feelers for any information on the subject that he could find and he could only wait for them to turn something, or nothing, up.

That's when his brain spared a bit of energy to dwell on the voice that had spoken. At once he looked up and realized it was the young officer that had carried him out of the burning engine room and been vital in saving his hide from the wrath of the base's commander. "Ah, Ensign Haines, or so my reports say now, glad to see you up and about" He exclamed in his usually calm manner, giving a stilted smile as he did and fighting a reflex to wave his left arm, the one that was still quite badly damaged. "I can see your injuries aren't keeping you down? If you've come here with a purpose then please tell me and then I have a few things I'd like to go over with you..." Tomas said calmly as he gestured with his right hadn for the man to come in and take a seat on a ramshackly chair that was opposite to his own. Haines' fighting strength was 87% certain that his mind and knowledge could help to improve...

[Kurosaki]

"You seem to have more intel than I do. I wasn't even told what rank you had been reinstated to," Lance commented in reply once Tomas had answered him. The young Marine's face was curious looking as he approached the former prisoner's desk. As he sat down on the slightly rickety chair that was opposite to where Tomas was sitting, he eyed the tent's interior a bit more. Nothing about it screamed that this man had been reinstated to his former glory exactly, but they had obviously given him some level of authority.
When he answered that he was a Warrant Officer, it took him a bit off guard. So, he had been reinstated lower than Lance? Not to mention, the exact same position that Lance had just been promoted from. Hey, how come he hadn't gotten a fancy tent and a desk when he had been Warrant Officer? Come to think of it, the only thing that they had given him was a clipboard! He tried to brush it off and focus more on the other parts of what Tomas was saying.

Shaking his head and holding up one arm as though he were showing off his muscles there, he patted it and grinned. "It'd take much more than getting pounded and experiencing a small explosion to keep me down for long. How about your injuries? I bet they're having you take it easy, huh?"

Lance waited for whatever reply that would come, knowing that the answer was probably yes. There was no way someone that had been in the middle of that explosion in the engine room would be able to run around at full capacity even after a week. Hopefully there hadn't been any real lasting damage that his body had sustained though.

"You could say I came here out of curiosity. Also to let you know that my team and I have been making great progress out there with the rebuilding," Lance pointed with his thumb behind him toward the entrance of the tent. "I just came from overseeing them. Figured they could handle it on their own for two seconds without killing themselves. Hopefully. If not, that's one or two less paychecks the World Government has to shell out, right?"

He leaned forward in the chair and looked Tomas in the eyes, still hoping that he had made the right call back there. He had felt it in his gut that this man was good. He wouldn't have gone to such lengths to help them win by destroying the engine room if he hadn't. After all, the chances of him being forgiven for his earlier transgressions were so slim. Then again, he was also a cunning individual, so it was still a good idea to keep an eye out just so he wasn't caught off guard.

After searching the man's face for a moment, he seemed to be satisfied with whatever he found and leaned back in his chair.

"Okay, so, what are the 'few things' that you wanted to go over with me, 'Warrant Officer' Tomas?" he questioned, adding his rank in as a slight jab.

(SORRY FOR THE RIDICULOUSLY LONG WAIT. I could not for the life of me get into Lance's character. I think I finally found it. We'll see. The post is short but I had to wait on Tomas' replies so I couldn't make it too long.)