Conflicts of Interest (Closed:Mim/Haru)

[White Mimic]

“Alms, alms for a beggar?” Vagrants were no rarity in the Pirate’s Market. Ne’er-do-wells, unfortunates, liars, thieves, a slaw of what the rest of the world might have called trash and a melting pot of social degradation. How deliciously shady. Of course, at the same time, there was little sympathy to be found here for a blind, old, homeless man, asking for money without any sort of service in return. Well… that wasn’t entirely true. In a sort of broad sense, the battered tin cup he kept close to him functioned more as a tip jar for his actual job. Of course, the money he was given as a vagrant wasn’t too bad either. He was bald and sickly looking, with a set of sunglasses missing a lens (though he wore an eyepatch underneath the frame). His skin was darkened by hours of sitting out in the sun for hours during the days, with liverspots peppering his skin. White wires of hair jutted from his face in an unkempt beard and pair of eyebrows and he had a filthy, tattered shirt of puce on with an equally weathered pair of white shorts, grayed with age and neglect. Nearby, leaning against the wall upon which he had stationed himself was his gnarled walking stick, wittled from a sunbleached piece of driftwood it looked like. The only article he wore that differentiated him in any way from the usual rabble of this sort was the orange and green cloth scrap wrapped around his ankle.

Those without the esoteric know-how wouldn’t have paid any attention to it, but the seedy underbelly of the criminal world knew what one of ‘his’ contact points would look like. “Alms sir?” The man slowly turned his head toward the sound of footsteps abruptly stopping in front of him. There were two plunks from the cup, placed separate from one another on purpose. The perpetrator: a man in an over-the-top disco suit. It was decorated with all manners of colored studs along the sleeves and collar, arranged in no discernible pattern while the suit itself was a hideous lime and purple striped monstrosity, with matching bell-bottom pants. It wouldn’t have been as bad if the stripes weren’t diagonally aligned… and wavy. The man also wore a ridiculously huge pair of pointed shades and moderately sized blue afro, but it was clearly a wig, with his blond mullet leaking out the back. Perhaps it was his idea of incognito, though it didn’t matter too much when his contact was blind and was located outside of marine reach anyway.

“Ah, why thank you. Not often some fella gives two.” The blind man gave a toothy smile which, funilly enough seemed to be the least ramshackle thing about him. His teeth were square, white, and almost perfect, like he had access to the world’s best dental plan. “Well I guess you could say,” The disco man did a flashy pose, spreading his legs out far enough to almost do the splits and pointing with two finger guns at the old man. He had a cheesy smile on that almost looked like he was in agony and was winking beneath the shades. “I’m just a super riiiiiiiiiiice guy~”

The old beggar frowned a bit, confused. A few seconds passed with the disco man remaining in the pose, still grinning as if in pain and waiting for the beggar to respond. “Eh what?”

“OH! Super uncooooooooooool of me. I meant to say,” He tried the pose again, but mirrored it this time and went for a full split, a clean, clear snap of bone coming from the action. Hi smile was the same but a tear rolled down from under the shades. “Super niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice guy~” The beggar smiled again, ignoring the cracking sound he had just heard. “Well then nice things to you, a nice guy.” The disco man was still crying but he attempted to mirror the action again. Unable to get up though, he simply twisted his torso slightly. It would have to do, he just wanted to look super cool. “And some super niiiiiiice weather for shoe~” A few more seconds passed before he realized he said it wrong. “I meant you.”

“I know.” The beggar was still smiling. Most people didn’t deviate from the script this much, and it wasn’t particularly difficult to remember at this early point in contacts. That this man was struggling, it was a breath of fresh air to the usual dark and serious types he met, even if it was simple idiocy.

“But rain, sleet, or snow, I usually have a nice time anyway.” The beggar continued to smile and awaited the response and, inevitably, the message he was to relay. The disco man had done the splits too far away from the beggar to hand him the letter in his pocket directly, so he simply tossed it through the air into the cup. Even in pain, he was an excellent aim from all those card-in-hat games he had played as a child. Whining a little as the pain of the splits caught up to him, he finished the exchange “All the more reason to have a super niiiiiiiiiice autumn~” As the disco man fell forward, smacking his head on the ground and dislodging his afro slightly, the beggar pulled out a tiny stamp from inside his shirt and pressed it against the envelope he had just received, before placing it into a separate pocket in his shirt. The disco man had gotten up a bit, just long enough to see the stamp was of a pumpkin.

~~~

It was several days later before the message would be taken to its recipient, its contents examined, and the ultimate request to be carried out. Of course, given the nature of said request, there was no garauntee of success. The target was, after all, safe and sound within a well-protected marine base in the South Blue. A rather difficult mission, with a time limit, because it wouldn’t be long for the captive to be taken to Impel Down and by then it would be too difficult a task for Jacques to complete.

Still, one simply couldn’t rush into a jailbreak and expect to be successful, espescially with marine involvement. As short a time as he had, Jacques still needed his moments of preparation, and what better way to prepare than with a pair of binoculars.

“Confounded things, won’t stop frosting over.” Jacques angrily rubbed the ice off of the lenses before holding them in front of his helmeted eyes once more. Even then, the snow falling out of the sky kept his view of the base in the distance clouded to the point that he might as well turn himself in, just to get a closer look. That or throw on a disguise and do a little exploratory espionage. Wouldn’t be hard but with all those marines, it could prove more risky. He might as well, however, since at this point he was running out of options. “MUGGGHHHH~ Too much snow~ Too cold~ Why do today what you can put off till tomorrow~” Jacques quickly stowed the binoculars away in his winter coat. It was the same cut as his regular coat, long and orange, but thick with fur on the inside and fluffing out of the neck. Actually, the collar and neck of the coat had so much fur coming out of it that Jacques’ pumpkin helmet looked like a bright orange egg in a comfortable warm birds nest. It also made him look a little effeminate, but androgyny was the goal.

Fed up with the day’s work and gain (next to nothing) and shivering underneath all of his coat fur, Jacques made his way back to the sleigh he had used to arrive at this part of the island in the first place. At the front of the sleigh was a young Juno Penguin native to the island. It was only 10 feet tall and Jacques had affectionately named it Tux even though the person he had rented it from told him its name was Wendig. “Alright Tux, I’ve seen enough, take me back.” The penguin immediately fell forward on its belly and began to slide north as Jacques leaned back in the sleigh, crossing his legs and holding himself to keep warm. Snow pelted the helmet which had been frosted over since he had left the inn several hours ago. His coat was also covered in ice and snow and even though the vast majority of the cold couldn’t reach Jacques, it still wasn’t enough to keep him from complaining.

“Stupid revolutionaries… can’t even keep their MVP’s outta jail without outsourcing.” He wiped away some of the snow and ice creeping over the helmet’s eyes with his thick snow gloves but it didn’t take long before the snow in the air started covering his view again. He didn’t really like his snow gloves but there was no reason to carry his other pair out here, not without a means to warm them anyway. The metal would lock everything up with ice and it would just be extra weight, extra cold, and very little padding for warmth (so… more extra cold). He was better off working barehanded here it seemed. No matter.

“…stupid revolutionaries…stupid old man.” He knew his predecessor was in with people of all creeds, but Jacques didn’t much trust the revs. Needed to work with them more. But, given his disposition to mistrust the marines, he figured there was a common enemy and not much to worry about. Not with this mission anyway. But if he failed, perhaps there was more at stake than he realized. He had never tried to steal a person before.

[Harusame]

Standing in front of the three inns Viktas had to offer was an unusual man. White locks rustling in the wind, his hair color slightly synced with his black attire. A black coat hung on him and made him look as if he was floating in the air, a ghastly appearance coped with pale skin. The black bo staff gripped in his palm showed that he was not to be underestimated, and his slitted light purple pupils complied. His expression was irritant, and sure as hell felt it. But to the observers who would walk by, he looked as if he was going to kill a man. The snake like expression and phantom facade was menacing and unreasonable to the inhabitants of the cold little island. And to say the man hadn't noticed would have been wrong as he could define the difference between curiosity and fear.

It had been about five minutes since The Black Mass had arrived on the island, and he was already disliking Viktas. Of the whole island, he had heard to his great dismay that only these three buildings stood to welcome guests. How could the island offer such small services? It was revolting. But, it was pirate hopeless. Having been looking for pirates for a while, when The White Haired Bounty Hunter had heard of Viktas and its tendency to sometimes harbor those filthy sea dogs, he was intrigued to come. It was possible he would finally get paid, finally enjoy a meal that would warm his body to perfection. But as it stood now, hiding underneath his attire a few beri to begin, he wasn't getting that. Instead, he would result to his final option, a beverage consumed by almost every man in times of desperation or celebration; alcohol.

Nauseatingly moving to the inn towards the right, he pushed open the door and walked on, shaking off the snow that harbored on his body. Strangely enough the cold hadn't affected him yet when he was standing in the cold. But the effect he had on the inn was enough to send a shiver down a spine. Before he had entered, he heard laughs of merriment and people talking heatedly. But upon his entrance, silence followed its wake. The people occupying the scattered tables of the inn looked at the newcomer. Unfortunately, none of them looked too happy to see him. For a moment, he simply stood there as if waiting for something. But after a moment of awkward glances he began to move towards the counter, his slits following the looks of the people around him in a almost Back off expression and reluctantly, they would turn. By the time he had reached the bar, the room was back to its normal merriment but with a slight chill in the air.

The bartender was a man who looked like he was in his middle ages. Black hair covered mostly of his skull, but his big forehead was exposed, actually shining in the light of the bar. Small squinty black eyes sought the appearance of The Bounty Hunter, coupled by huge eyebrows that gave him an almost gorilla look. Overall his face was quite round, with small stubble lining his gobbly chin. And his build was a cross between strong yet fat, with beefy arms yet a round torso. As The Traveler got close, he noticed the menacing glance of the bar still flitted on the mans visage as he roughly cleaned a glass with a cloth. But as he got closer, the image softened up and he smiled, bearing yellow lines of teeth and huffing out the sent of alcohol.

"What can I get for you buddy." The fake smile was put in his direction and The Purple Eyed man felt a vein pulse in his head. This guy was lying, and was doing a darn bad job at it. He hated it when a person would act nice to him simply because of business or of the like. Pissed off he slammed his few sickles of beri on the counter and spoke with a cool calm voice. "I'm not your bud, bub. Just get me a drink." The bartender looked taken aback at the comment and his earlier expression returned as he scooped the money in his palm and went to fill a drink for the rude customer. When he returned he lazily threw the beverage in front of the man and turned away, leaving the White Hunter satisfied. Now he's being honest, he thought as he downed the alcohol.

His throat felt the warm liquid trail down as it warmed his cheeks and belly, a fiery taste that he enjoyed as it lasted. The warmth of the drink spread through his body and even though he hadn't been cold before, felt as if he was rolled inside blankets of wool. But the feeling didn't last as the zang began to fade and next thing he knew, he was holding a empty glass and unsatisfied. In fact, even more hungry than before. Slamming the glass down he quickly got up and began to walk out but felt a arm grab his. "Hey kid, want another?" Purple eyes slanted in the direction of the Old Man and he ripped his arm from the guys grasp. "I wouldn't drink more of that shit if it was the last damned thing on this god forsaken island." And with that he was gone, feeling more pissed off than before at his lack of food. Why had he wasted his money so easily?

Stepping out, he was ready to find a place to sleep since he was now broke, but his attention caught something. Looking into the distance away from the inns and harbors, he noticed a black image in the snow and slowly it got bigger and bigger. Finally, his eyes widened as a penguin was sighted, and it seemed someone was riding on his back. Of all the things, he hadn't expected to see a strange sight such as that. He began to make his way towards the oddity and as the image became more clear, noticed a man in a orange attire. In fact, he was basically a walking pumpkin. A orange mask and orange fur coat covered up what ever he was hiding underneath. And with that, he stood in front of the penguin to stop it, holding up a hand. For some reason, he felt a scheme was arising, and schemes meant criminals, and criminals meant he could catch them for the big bucks. And as if he was the commander, he shouted at the creature. "Stop man!"" For some reason, he felt this man was important. Maybe the bounty hunter had found something that would get him food for months. It wasn't the creature that intrigued him, nor even the man. But the direction. He had heard from a man at the harbor that that was the direction of the marine base. Now why would such flamboyantly orange mysterious dude be coming from there? This was just another day in the life of Road, The Bounty Hunter.

[White Mimic]

Through the fog of the snowfall, the town was barely visible. The base and the town were several hours apart by sleigh so Jacques had spent most of the day in transit between the two locations and fruitlessly staking out the base. It was getting to be about dinner and Jacques relished the thought of a nice steaming fish filet, likely to be lower quality than he was used to but it would have to do, he wasn’t picky at this point. Not that picky anyway. Tux was making great time so it wouldn’t be long until the two of them could get some grub in their gizzards, so to speak. That was what a gizzard was for, right? In any case, he would have to see if he could get a few more days out of the rental, the penguin had sort of grown on him. Penguins were adorable.

While it was dangerous to fall asleep in cold weather like this, the town wasn’t too far away now so… it wouldn’t hurt to just relax a little. Leaning back in the sleigh, Jacques tilted his head back to the sky and relaxed his arms across the top of his comfortably cushioned seat. The snow soon filled his helmet eyes again and the glow of the southern evening sky colored the light that barely entered the shelter of his helmet. This Jacques wasn’t used to his snow attire yet, only having worn the coat, helmet, and gloves a few times, but the helmet was his favorite part. Rather than a strong dark mesh obscuring his eyes, it was a tinted lens, like goggles. Gave the space a private, cozy feel.

The temperature up here wasn’t so bad as it was further south. It was still bloody cold mind you, but comparatively, definitely an improvement over what he had to endure a few hours ago. It wasn’t snowing as hard either. In the comparative peacefulness of the climate, Jacques gave a little more thought to the plan. While he was hired to break a man out of prison, it would be relatively small work to actually get him out. The man was a seasoned revolutionary and perfectly capable of getting himself out once he got a little help, a la gourd headed agent. All Jacques would have to do would be to get in with a few things for the man to use, undo his bindings, and escort him off the island. Almost everything else, the revolutionary could take care of himself. At least that’s what he was told in the letter he had received down the grapevine of his overworld contacts. All he would really need to do was get in and get out, those were the only challenges. Since he couldn’t get a good layout from his observations, it might’ve been prudent to go with plan B.

The base was built into the side of a mountain, and by the looks of it, only the sea facing side. One of the lesser guarded points of entry would then be from behind the summit, assuming the rooms up there didn’t belong to some sort of admiral or commodore or commander, whichever was important, Jacques never cared for memorizing the fine minutia of Marine ranking. He could then just espionage his way down the base and locate the cell block, easier said than done, but not too difficult, hopefully. So long as he kept moving and didn’t speak with too many people, especially in a fortress of that size, he would be fine. He had broken into marine bases before, but this time would be different in that he would risk kicking the bees nest. The other times, he had only been taking a walk or practicing his disguise skills but with this, he’d be upsetting the flow and it could all come crashing down on him. No pressure. In any case, half of the planning was already done by the prisoner himself, Jacques would just have to follow his lead, which was a shame. He didn’t much like being told what to do beyond contractual business.

But of course, there were always those that didn’t know him.

At the request of someone new, Tux slowed down to a stop and stood up. The sleigh rattled to a halt in suit and shook Jacques from his light dozing and thoughts. “Hmm?” He cranked his head up from the seat and looked around, moving his head to and fro erratically, like a chameleon’s eye. “Hey Tux, what’s the deal? We got a schedule to keep and you're BLOWING IT.” He tapped his foot impatiently on the floor of the sleigh as he brushed out the snow caked over his helmet-goggles. He leaned out of the sleigh to look at that which had stopped them: A man, serious, too serious, boring. Disappointed, Jacques let his arms hang out of the sleigh and his head rest on the edge, sighing a bit. “A highwayman? But I don’t have any money~ on my person~ at this moment~” He had started turning around in his seat, rotating on the edge of the sleigh and slowly bringing his hands up in the air. He just as soon stopped and brought his hands to rest on the edge of the sleigh with his head, like a child taking a peak over the side of a ship before loudly whispering “~as far as you know.”

Tux was just standing there, preening himself. Jacques of course quickly turned his head a tad angrily. “Tux, come on, don’t do that. We’re in public and you don’t even have feathers.” Tux stopped for a moment, staring straight forward at the town. Only a few seconds passed before he started preening again, like he thought Jacques wasn’t watching him anymore. “Egh, shameless.” Jacques shook his head in false disapproval then turned to look at the stranger, folding his hands underneath his helmet like he was expecting someone with a camera to arrive and take a glamour shot. The eye-lights in the helmet gave away that he was grinning at the stranger. “How can we help you, sir? You lost? Need a loan? I warn you, my interest rate is very high.”

[Harusame]

Road was essentially speechless as the penguin rose from its belly position. Looking up, his light purple eyes widened slightly. What the hell was up with the islands fauna? Unless the flightless bird had eaten all the fish of the sea, he wasn’t sure how the creature could logically grow big. But then again, the world wasn’t always logical. He had seen things like this almost wherever he had gone. Probably the only reason he felt so uncomfortable at the moment was the way the creature towered over him. But the oddity of the bird had to be discarded. Gripping the black rod in his hand, he began to raise it onto his shoulder and took a stance in front of the sleigh, readying himself to meet the occupant. But if he thought the penguin was weird, the rider was something else.

“Hey Tux, what’s the deal? We got a schedule to keep and you're BLOWING IT.” The White Haired Phantom’s serious demeanor was taken by raised eyebrows. It seemed there was something important going on with him. What he had imagined was a well suited business man, or a brutal looking pirate to edge out of the sled. Unfortunately, he was instead looking at an orange head, who seemed quite … deranged. “A highwayman? But I don’t have any money~ on my person~ at this moment~” The stranger began to spin around, hands in the air like some mentally retarded dancer. As he stopped he peered again over the edge but this time looking like a little kid. “~as far as you know.”

Road’s forehead let down an awkward sweat as the guy finished. Oi … I’m not a highwayman pumpkin he-“ But as soon as he began, the strangers oddity’s continued as he yelled at the now preening penguin. Road felt as if he should have said something, but nothing came out. What the hell was up with the Pumpkin Head freak? Why was he so … eccentric? The White Haired Hunter even began to have images of removing the mask and finding a drunken monkey underneath. But he quickly shook his head. It seemed the creature ignored the pleas of his master as it continued its shameless act of preening its body. At that moment, Road felt as if he shouldn’t have said anything anymore and just walked away. This guy was too weird to be some evil mastermind. Yeah, that’s it. He would walk away now.

GUUUURGLE~

His pale hand grasped his belly as a plea of hunger come from his stomach. That’s why he wasn’t leaving. He had to be sure this dude wasn’t worth anything. But considering the strangeness of the duo, he even considered capturing them for being weird. But again he shook the thought as his mind trailed back to what he was seriously doing. Now the question was how to ask? If he made one wrong move or gave one slip of the tongue, it could end in being run over by the overly large beat towering over him. Bu then again, he didn’t even know what to say to the stranger at all. It was like talking to a child in Road’s mind. And whenever he talked to children, they would run away screaming for their parents. It wasn’t his fault he had this natural aura of seriousness and darkness.

“How can we help you, sir? You lost? Need a loan? I warn you, my interest rate is very high.” He realized it was now time to say something. Slightly opening his mouth, he was about to speak but clenched his jaw again. He didn’t feel like talking to the frigin Pumpkin Head King. The orange face was seriously distracting. But he had to somehow get something out of this. And as his mind wandered in thought, it grasped an idea. The Phantom’s face filled with light as a light bulb went off, and he bought his staff back to the ground. Instead of his battle stance he stuffed the object into the snow and bought on a smile as if he didn’t have a care in the world. ”Would you mind telling me where the marine base is? I’m new here and I would like to know. internally he cheered. The old ‘I’m a civilian’ trick. He could possibly get on board with the man and when the time was right, strike. Or instead, press on the matter of him coming in that direction and act like an innocently curious person. But maybe he had to be a little friendlier to gain more trust? It was worth a shot. ”My name is Road. I’m looking for a little help. that would do for now. He waited for the response of the stranger.

[White Mimic]

“Marine Base?” Jacques tilted his head, still peering over the side of the sleigh. “Well, there’s a town… right there you see.” He pointed off right at the town, slightly visible through the snowfall and fog. “I don’t think I saw a marine base there though. Woulda been pretty visible I imagine. Marines love to show off, hee hee. Just as well, some podunk little hamlet in the middle of nowhere, don’t think pirates would want anything to do with this place. So I can’t imagine there would be a marine base.” Continuing to lean over the edge of the sleigh, Jacques brought his hands under the chin of his helmet in a bored posture, though the lights of his helmets eyes maintained that he was still grinning underneath.

Lesson 6 of Evidence Removal: Proactive Ignorance. Though basic and typically insubstantial for a proper alibi, a high-class thief removes himself from the probability of resultant events. No matter how small or insignificant, there is to be no manner of clear link between him and his actions in the eyes of the public. Of course, there were plenty of other lessons like this one, but Jacques felt this was most appropriate. After all, he had already been seen coming from this direction, but that was Lesson 2 of Alibi Forgery: Preparation of the Contingency. Jacques had already come up with a story for the townsfolk and the man he had rented Tux from, with a built-in abort option even. God, was he clever~

“But I suppose they’ve been here before haven’t they? The pirates I mean… Wait. He was a bounty hunter wasn’t he… gimme a sec…” The helmet tilted up towards the cloudy sky in a moment of memory (or a struggle for one at least), the goggles slowly encrusting with snow as he grew quiet. “…pretty sure it was a bounty hunter actually. Alright! False alarm, no pirates probably!” He was grinning again at the stranger.

Looked like one of those soloists. He didn’t dress like anyone around the town and for that matter, dressed all in black. How boring. Probably imagined himself a badass, like all those other soloists that dressed in black, but he seemed to be nice enough. Maybe he wasn’t so ‘badass’ then. But then, what was he doing all the way out here, for a marine base even. Potential recruit then? They weren’t usually assigned and then made to walk across the wasteland hopefully. No that couldn’t be it, there was only one of him. If he was a recruit, he would likely have come with others… besides, the fortress had its own port, seemed like a shot in the foot to throw the new meat into survival training. Maybe the marines were just that harsh then.

“So I guess it’s good to meet you Road, you can call me Jay if you like. I also charge for help, though I suppose it depends on the kind of help you need. Psychiatric? Technical? …lost a pet maybe? Or is it the Marine Base still?” His voice got all playfully skeptical at the suggestion, but he continued listing things until Road decided to be more specific. “Should I be a butler? Maybe your mother is visiting and you want I should find you a gal to show off? Or a portrait? I can do caricatures and abstract. Realism I guess too but they always look like weird sorta banana peel people… gesture lines and all that. Oh yeah, and loans. Let’s see what else… I play a mean accordion. You wanna start a tango band maybe? OH! We can take up free running together? I always wanted to learn. Jump, like, 50 feet in the air! There are people who can do that you know, it’s pretty boss.”

[Harusame]

“Marine Base?” The way Orange Top played off he didn't know about the marine base. The way he tilted his head in confusion. That really sent a annoyed shiver down his spine. Road's veins in his head twitched as the guy pointed off the obvious town behind him. Who did this guy think he was, bull crapping like he didn't know a thing in the world. It was as if he was trying to get rid ...

The White Haired Hunter's grip on his staff tightened as he gazed up at the Suspicious Penguin Rider. That was it, the reason he was acting dumb. Road's realized the man was trying to throw him off his tail. It seemed he was playing dumb and expecting the Bounty Hunter to play along. But The Black Phantom wasn't the type of person who would give in to criminals antics. He had had many cases of trickery amongst the criminal minds. This was simply another time, and it wouldn't end differently. This was a battle of wits and they would both use their shenanigans until one of them cracked. Road's eyes slightly glared at the Flamboyant Liar, he wasn't going to give in.

“But I suppose they’ve been here before haven’t they? The pirates I mean… Wait. He was a bounty hunter wasn’t he… gimme a sec…” Road felt a fire erupt in his chest. He would give more than anything to just knock The Jack-O-Lantern off his penguin. But he hadn't seen the true power of this adversary. And seeing as the man was playing this convo off as a ordinary guy, Road had to give him credit. He wasn't a average joe. None of those stupid pirates who could simply scream their captains names like fangirls and raise up swords. This man was beyond a battle of will and brawns. He was using wits. These were the type of people that made his job so much more exciting. But ... “…pretty sure it was a bounty hunter actually. Alright! False alarm, no pirates probably!” He was pretty stupid looking at the moment.

Road still had that twinge of annoyance, but his face didn't falter in any way as he silently looked at the man. His question hadn't been answered and he was waiting for a chance to put in a few words of his own. But it didn't really come as The Pumpkin Head went on. And as he listened, he learned the guys name was Jay. Slowly he nodded his head. Although, when the guy started asking what kind of help he needed, psychiatric or technical, he began to feel his pissed off levels rise again. Was it ordinary for Orange Top to talk like a chick all the time? Because whatever this guy was trying to pull, it was pissing off the White Hunter to whole new levels. It was just talking and talking until he felt like his brains should explode. And it didn't end there.

“Should I be a butler? Maybe your mother is visiting and you want I should-"

"Oi, could you shut up a minute so I can ask the god dang question."

He tried to cut in but he was a hundred percent sure that The Flabber hadn't heard a word of it. And he was in the same situation as he blandly looked at the moving lips in front of him. All he could hear from this Jay was a low buzz, like a bee was flying in his brain. And it drove him mad. None of the words registered. Eventually, a sweat drop formed on his head as his silence followed. Shut uuuuuup.

it’s pretty boss.” Road looked awkwardly at the Orange Top man as he finished. Sighing he scratched his quietly and didn't say anything for a moment. What was he supposed to say? He expected more shit to pour from this guys lips but nothing came and he finally decided to speak. "You done?" Or do you need four more hours!? He thought.

"I just heard there was a marine base here. I'm looking for a certain pirate, but haven't gotten his name. I was thinking they would have bounty posters." He shrugged slightly. "Now I don't need my mothers gal .. whatever! I know there has to be bounty posters somewhere and I just need someone to tell me okay? And i'm a little curious, if there is nothing in that direction ... why did you come from there?" His face obscured into a look of innocent confusion as he asked the query. Maybe this guy would let up.

[White Mimic]

“Looking for buried treasure. Like I said, pretty sure the guy was a bounty hunter, maybe a marine, but…” Jacques turned his head left and right, and then slowly peered around his shoulder, only to see if anyone was hiding behind his sleigh, but with clear coast, he continued. “Legend has it that he kept a vast fortune of what he had earned from his work and hid it away. I intend to find it.” His voice was hushed but still audible, even in the gentle billows of the frozen wasteland’s winds. He grinned and leaned back in the sleigh, shaking off a good deal of snow accumulating on his helmet and jacket. His arms crossed in front of his chest and one leg folded over the other foppishly, showing how confident he was that he’d be the first to find it. “Of course it’s not about the money, I’m finding that for someone else. It’s more about the adventure, and the puzzles. I love puzzles.”

The orange helmet on his head rotated, suddenly and slowly, to face Road, though Jacques was a bit put off now. The mood swing came without warning, though no one would really describe it as violent and severe, surely. “Of course, it’d be nice if the damn map wasn’t such a liar. Some cartographer this guy was.” A gloved hand slid into the orange coat and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, which was quickly and nimbly unfolded. Lines were etched to and fro into the parchment beneath a grid of hastily traced pencil sketches. It was a sort of positioning matrix that Jacques had graphed himself to get a better layout of the island that was on the map. Granted a map wasn’t all that useful when the one holding it was in the wrong location altogether. “The, uhh… ghost town is supposed to be… out there, somewhere…” Keeping an irate eye on the map, Jacques thrust his arm out in the direction from which he had arrived and waved it around, laying out a general area of his so called search. “And the clues to finding the treasure itself are supposed to be there but I can’t make heads or tails of this apparently.” The map rotated several times as he tried to examine it from multiple perspectives, as if it would make a difference.

“Can hardly navigate by the sky here anyway so all these fancy-shmancy longitudes, latitudes, attitudes, useless.” Jacques gestured the thick layer of clouds in the sky before slumping back in the sleigh again, folding the map up just as quickly as he had unfolded it and slipped it back into his coat. “Ah but look at how rude I’m being.” He threw another faceless grin at Road. Portions of his story were true, he was indeed searching for a treasure, one long buried by a marine and hidden somewhere in a wasteland guarded by a treacherous ghost town. But, what he held was an unlabeled map of the island on which Colt Town, the ghost town, was built. He was on the wrong island clearly, but not simply that. Only an idiot could be in the completely wrong Blue, and people were always so quick to accept that that’s what any Pumpkinhead was, a fool who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, though in reality, this was hardly coincidence or accident.

“Pretty sure there’s no marine base, but maybe my map is outta date… it is pretty old. At any rate, it’d be my pleasure to help you look, I’m really good at finding things.” The orange man inched his way down to the other end of the sleigh, hopping on his butt as he did. With each movement he made, there was a plush squeak from the upholstery. The sleigh itself was a little older than he would’ve liked, but Jacques could and did appreciate some age in an object. It showed it’s resilience, it’s wisdom, it’s…

“…Hm… lost my train of thought…” He looked at Road once again and smiled, placing a hand on the space he had just made and patted it. “Come on, I’ll take you back to town and we’ll see if there is actually one here. Oh ho, game idea. I’ll bet you there isn’t, and if there is, I’ll take you there myself. Okay your turn.” The strange orange man leaned forward in his seat, hands on his knees, anticipating the fun of the bet. Granted, he knew he had lost already, but it was always nice to play games with strangers. There was something to be said about having the chance to ask a stranger one question, just to see how they would respond. Same could be said for a single game.“What would you do for me if there isn’t? It’s got to be equal in value to a sleigh ride, alright?”

[Harusame]

Road’s stern gaze was unblemished as the man repeated his story of ‘looking for buried treasure’. He realized this guy was seriously hooked on this theory. Especially when his head searched left and right before landing on him, and sprouting some none sense about a legend. It seemed The Mysterious Rider was playing The Phantom to believe he was a serious treasure hunter on a quest for vast riches beyond his wildest dreams. Nodding at Jay as he spoke, he had to give the orange top credit for seeming as confident as he crossed his legs in a cocky manner. Finally, it wasn’t a vast array of questions. He was explaining more than the fact of it being a bounty or marine or pirate. And with that, Road got into character, bringing a hand under his chin to ‘interestingly’ listen to the ‘adventurer’.

Jay claimed he didn’t have his eye on the treasure, but instead marveled at the idea of a good puzzle and adventure. The Black Mamba felt inwardly shook his head. If the treasure had been real, there would be a rare sum of people who went after it for the thrills. Ordinarily, the only thing focused in their mind would be the shiny booty dripping through their greedy fingers. Although, Road didn’t have the means to judge The Helmet Wearing Penguin Rider. The Pumpkin Mask concealed his every expression. Road was going off of body language here.

Thus, The Explorer continued his play as he slowly took a violent look in The Purple Eyed Hunters direction and slightly ranted about a disturbed map he possessed, angry at the lack of detail given to him. With that, he pulled out the parchment, and Road almost felt the man was telling the truth for a second. For a second, his heart didn’t sync. Could it be this guy was telling the truth? Maybe, just maybe, there was a minuscule chance he could leave this island with a pot of gold and an actual genuine smile. Nonetheless it seemed most likely this was a set up. Road continued his façade as his face shone up with curiosity and he balanced on the tip of his toes as if to see the old thing properly. The Hunters eyes followed as Jay pointed in some direction and hopelessly claimed he couldn’t do well with the map. Then he also said that he didn’t follow longitude and latitude. With this, The Hunters eyebrows raised. Wasn’t that how to read a map? But instead, he shrugged at the man’s comment. ”Whatever.”

After his little trail off, he officially acknowledged Road saying he had been rude. The Black Phantom shook his hands in the air as if to say ‘it’s okay’ Now grinning at The White Haired Masquerader, he continued. After confirming that his map was old again, he basically said that he would give him a ride. He watched as the Odd Orange inched away from his spot. Road moved cautiously on the sleigh as Jay patted his spot. Sitting down, he placed his rod beside him. Road’s ears perked up as a bet was issued, and he bought a smile to Jay’s face. ”Hehe, alright.” A little game couldn’t hurt, right? But then Jay asked for something in return and the triumph sort of lost him. What was he going to do … There weren’t many options. But after a moment of thought, he decided he would go with something relating to his little treasure hunt possibly. ”I’ll be your body guard for one day. Twenty four hours on the dot and that’s it. I think that fair as opposed to the sleigh ride.” A cocky grin was placed on his face. But this wasn’t to prove his triumph, but more to prove his sureness that what he was giving back was just as good. Placing his hand out to Jay, he nodded to be sure of the final bet. ”Deal?

[White Mimic]

((Sorry for taking so long, stuff came up.))

“Bodyguard? Hm…” Jacques turned to look ahead at the large Tux, who had simply been looking around the landscape while the two of them discussed the bet. Simple creature. Taking a tight hold of the sleighs reins, he sent a small flickering wave down the leather straps into Tux’s harness. He gave a small quacking chirp before waddling a ways and falling onto his belly, kicking off and sending himself and the sleigh bounding across the stretch of white between the group and the town.

Leaning back in his seat once again, Jacques took a pose of deep thought, perching an elbow over a hand and a hand under his helmet. In the moments he silently thought of the proposition, the sleigh continued to speed along the white, filling his goggles with the powder of frigid snow, though he didn’t seem to notice, or mind at least. Tux knew the way back home from here, so he didn’t feel the need to guide the penguin until they were well within the tiny town. It certainly would give him time to get to know this new, strange acquaintance. Perhaps a new point of contact, though Jacques was by no means in need of another, certainly not one of no affiliation. But, as of yet he only had the single marine contact, some squirrely young cadet he couldn’t remember the name of. Or could he? An obvious answer to a stupid question. He quickly turned to Road, dislodging the snow cakes in his eyes, tilting his head childishly.

“24 consecutive hours sounds fair I guess…” He was twisting in his seat impatiently now, his shoulders riled up close to his head, enveloping the helmet snugly in the nest of his coat fur. “Don’t really have any need for a bodyguard but I suppose it’s TUX PICK UP THE PACE, I can’t feel any of my piggies!” A heavily gloved fist was shaken at the penguin but it didn’t seem to make much of a difference as far as speed was concerned. The noise of the sleigh sliding through the powder, the shrill whistle of the breeze, covered his complaints anyway, Tux probably couldn’t hear them. He also couldn’t feel Jacques suddenly kicking the front of the sleigh. The shock wouldn’t make it far through the leather reins, and if it did, it wasn’t strong enough to be noticeable through Tux’s pudgy physique… fatty.

“Ah… where was I? Er, ehm… So, do I get to decide when to activate your bodyguard contract or is it like… immediate?”

((Sorry it's short, just a bit of dialogue scenes. Town isn’t that far away. If you like, we can enter on your post.))