Hunting the Past - {Flame/Shaki/Mimic}

[Flame]

Hey Shaki, I don't really have any muse for making up my own plot so, we are going to just have to wing it. Find your own way into the plot please . I believe in the Shaki. By the way there will be bounty hunters in this thread you can find their profiles here. Ugh sorry the post isn't very good, I'm still finding my footing on this site.

  From the ferry, she could see the outline of Port West in the distance. A welcome sight having been at sea for what was now close to a week. It had only been recently that she had basically confirmed that there were no more hunters after her. Ever since she had gained the massive bounty that she had they had been after her, it was quite the pain. For a while she had been able to avoid their noses, moving from island to island without stirring up any trouble on the surface until she had landed on Night Beast Island. There she had met up with other major bounties and with that her cover had been blown. The ensuing events on Night Beast Island had blown her cover, announcing to the world her position and sending a stream of bounty hunters against Jay, Uzuki and Herself. She had split up from the other two after those events, with her cover blown she had tried to lay low for a while. Sticking around on Night Beast Island as she supposed the other two left which would draw the hunters after them. She herself had hit out in the forest coming down only to gather some food. Finally after enough time had passed she came out and had gotten on the next ferry to the next island. It wasn't too long of a wait and now that she was on her way, she felt confident that there were no bounty hunters still chasing her. 

    It was then as she mulled over the events of the past that she noticed it. A small bird flying in the distance, it was closing very quickly, it was a seagull, she could only barely tell. Not just a seagull it was distinctively one that she recognized. Walking up to the edge of the ferryboat she lifted up her thin hand and sure enough the seagull flew down to it and landed upon it. Shaking its head slightly it lifted a leg revealing upon closer inspection a piece of paper wrapped around it. This seagull was the messenger of an acquaintance from the past, he on occasion had given her jobs to do, or given her tips on places to avoid. At times he had seemed omniscient about her doings, but it never really bothered her. But anyways, she wasn't doing anything in particular so she figured she might as well read what was on the piece of paper. Using her second hand she nimbly untied the piece of string holding the paper to the seagull's leg and then grabbed the paper. Shooing the bird away she watched as it turned around and glided off into the distance. 

    Unraveling the piece of paper, she quickly skimmed over it her. Almost immediately her eyes widened, the information on this piece of paper being that surprising. This changed everything, so much for laying low apparently, apparently there was something that she had to do on this island. Well then, there goes any plans for a simple stop at Port West. Why did he have to be here. I haven't seen him in a while I suppose I should give him a visit, or try and break him out. Though to be honest I'm surprised that he got caught, its very unlike him, he wasn't that stupid, not like Jack. 

    The paper of course had revealed that one of her former crew-mates had been imprisoned at Port West awaiting marine escort to bring him to Impel Down. Bringing her palm to her forehead she rubbed her temples. This was not a one person job generally, but she doubted she'd be able to find anyone who could help her. Well anyways nothing was going to happen for a little while, she needed time to plan her route in and out. 

    The rising wind came flowing from behind her pushing the ferry forward toward Port West. Her hair rose, up in front of her carried forward by the wind. Her cloak fluttered against her back. It was a refreshing wind, that wind that carries you onward. It was a wind that she had felt many times before, one that slid through holes like breath through a horn making the sky ring with music. It was the wind that came before the start of an adventure, the start of major events. A grin grew across her face, this was the kind of wind she liked. 

    The ferry came rolling up to the port, docking then Syphalia strolled off into the town. She hummed to herself, stepping aside every now and then to obscure her face from the view of any marine that got too close to her. She was headed for an inn she had been recommended by the ferryboat man. Little did she know of the trouble she was walking into and the events that were soon to occur. The Hunters were coming, and the trap surely enough was about to close. 

"Well this ought to be fun ehh." 

---

    "The Firefly? She'll be heading to Port West? And you want us to capture her? . . .  Are you sure she'll be alone?" the man in the black cloak kept talking into the Den Den Mushi in his hand. In his other hand he held a small pencil and was scribbling notes down onto a pad. Listening to what the man on the other side of the Den Den Mushi had to say. He turned to the girl and the guy who were standing around him. They were both looking intently at him, his gaze seemed to ask a question to both of them. Waiting to see what they chose, the girl stopped for a second then began to nod, the guy started immediately. 


    The man stood up, bringing the Den Den Mushi to his face he stated "Consider the job done. That kind of bounty is usually outside of our range, but given your information and the bonus you promised, I don't think we could say no to this offer. The Black Contractors are on the job!" 


    Turning off his Den Den Mushi he placed it down. Turning to his accomplices his mouth turned up only slightly and out from it came the words "Well then, its time to head to Port West." The other two clapped their hands together grabbing onto some small bags and stepped out of their office. In front of them lay Port West. That is right there office was on Port West, for them the hunt was on. First things first to find a bounty poster so that they could recognize her. 
    

[|The SHAKINATOR|]

Jay had been captured.

It was the sad truth Garuda had to accept. His fate was in his own hands for now. The relentless pursuit had got him nowhere. He wasn't going to give up. Not a chance. He would track his friend down to the ends of the earth but for now, he had to accept that he wasn't going to find him in the next couple of days.

That window of opportunity once somebody is captured only lasts a few days at most. Beyond that, there is no way of knowing where the captive has been taken. Not without inside information.

Garuda was in search of some inside information and Port West was his best bet. He didn't have a lot of money, but he was willing to use it all to bribe an officer of the law.

He had been at Port West for more than a week now but so far this was the only lead he had. Some guy he was drinking with a few nights ago had claimed to know a marine who could be bought out with solid payments of $10,000 Beri.

~ ~ ~

Sat at the inn by the harbour, the ex-bounty hunter with the bushy hair began to down his fourth drink of the night. It had been over an hour since he was scheduled to meet his man and so far there hadn't been a sign. Garuda, not being one to easily trust people had not given up his money in advance like his informant had suggested. He wasn't going to duped so easily.

He had revealed very little about himself or whom he was tracking. The last thing he needed was for someone to take him in over his own bounty. Joining the Gold Dream Pirates was probably the biggest mistake he had ever made. The bounty on his head had now become a curse.

Speaking of curses, the encounter at Night-Beast Island had left him with a curse of its own. It wasn't much but Garuda had noticed his hormones began to rage on a monthly basis. Now he knew what women felt like. It was disturbing more than anything but the moon was no longer his friend and he dreaded the day after the next, when the ball in the sky shall be complete. Just the thought of it made him shudder.

Garuda was on the verge of asking for fifth drink when the seat beside him was suddenly occupied. A shady looking character sat beside him.

"Can I help you pal?"

Was Garuda's immediate response. The hat that covered the man's head was brought down, followed by a hand to his swollen lips. His eyes were freaky looking; on the verge of leaving their socket, as if the skull wanted to dispose of them. In other words, this man was hideous and he was dressed like a tramp. If this was a disguise, it was a pretty damn good one.

"Are you the man who seeks information on the prisoners inside Port West?"

Garuda nodded his head but didn't speak another word. The beggars hand had a parchment within its grasp once it escaped the stench of his coat. Those diseased hands weren't something Garuda wanted to get in touch with but the situation wasn't one he could control.

He reached out his hand to attain the paper but the ugly man withdrew his hand into the confines of his coat immediately. It was pretty obvious why he had done so. He was after the payment first.

Garuda's concerned face turned slightly at the lips as an ever so slight smirk developed. The money at his waist jingled as he unhooked them from his belt. One hand offered the beggar the cash incentive whilst the other remained close by the sheath of his sword. It wouldn't take Garuda long to react should this be a trap.

His eyes now panned across the rest of the inn, making sure there were no accomplices that might jeapordise this transaction.

The parchment and bag of money was exchanged at exactly the same time. Garuda's eyes remained focused whilst the beggar quickly dwelled into counting the contents of the bag.

The piece of paper felt heavy, like an official government paper. He had carried bounty posters in these hands before so he knew the feel. However, before he had the chance to open the parchment he heard the following words from someone standing behind him.

"Uzuki Garuda..."

His cover was blown.

[White Mimic]

The tapping of women’s boots echoed down the stone hallway, shaking the guard in a booth at the end awake. He accidentally thrust his elbow into a stiff cork board on the wall, sending a wave of tingling sensation throughout his entire arm. He released a groan of surprise as he got up from his chair and approached the booth window. He straightened out his uniform, knowing that it was only the Lieutenant who wasn’t so strict about uniform care as the Commander, but felt it important to look his best in front of the ladies. She brought with her the same tray as always, with a different food item as always. It was never the regulation food plan distribution with her, though the guard never reported it. Why bother when there was only one prisoner to deal with at the moment. Also, he rather had a soft spot for the lieutenant he would never admit. Her freckles reminded him of an old friend, and perhaps that was the biggest proponent of his crush on her. It did bother him on occasion how much she talked with the prisoner though. However, he wouldn’t bring up that topic again, considering how heavily she had enforced what she did was none of his business, especially driving home the point that she outranked him.

“Dinner time again?” The guard was already preparing to open the door. “What is it this time?” The lieutenant peaked through holding the tray up and presenting its contents. “Hi Merle. Just… just some flounder and potatoes.” Sure enough there was the plate with the fish and vegetables, accompanied with a clay cup filled with water. While Merle still didn’t trust him, the prisoner, for the amount of time he had spent in custody, had shown good enough behavior with small amounts of water. This prompted the Lieutenant to get him some leash to work with. In this case, he didn’t need to be restrained while drinking anymore, no chains, no keeping his head aimed at the ground or the back wall, none of that. Merle was confident that it was just because the prisoner realized that any attempt at escape would be swiftly dashed. Even with the base still undergoing repairs from a few months ago, it was still a formidable fortress that could halt a single prisoner’s escape attempt.

The food smelled good at least but Merle was fully aware of the Lieutenants rumored cooking ability, or complete lack thereof. Though to be honest, her cooking seemed to be looking better and better with each passing day, and he was getting worried she was learning because she was trying to impress a suitor. The thought that he wasn’t the intended target of such improvements broke his heart a little, though he would win her yet. “Hm. Looks good. Alright, Lieutenant Whistler, you’re clear.” He activated the mechanism that opened the metal grate that stood between the hallway and the bases prison proper.

Whistler stepped through, giving Merle an energetic little smile before stepping through, her brown medium length ponytail trailing behind her as she descended into the bowels of the cell block. Cell 2C. The only inhabited cell in the prison sector. There used to be more but they had all been moved to other prisons, far from Port West where no one would get hurt. The only reason they had kept the prisoner in 2C around was because he was the only one that didn’t prove to be an immediate threat to the surrounding populace. Also, a little string pulling from Lt. Whistler was a bit helpful in keeping him around. She didn’t think he deserved to be shipped off somewhere where he’d be no doubt tortured or sold into slavery. A lot of people wouldn’t recognize him as a living being worthy of any rights above those of an animal’s. By contrast, as Whistler was in charge of the cell blocks during reconstruction, she had the opportunity to get to know him. He seemed like a nice guy and didn’t fit the stereotype she had been practiced to expect.

2C was close to the entrance of the prison, so she never had to walk too far, simply down a hallway. This was also her doing. The usual cell blocks for Fishmen were in sector 5, much deeper down in the prison, but some of the Devil Fruit user cells were in 2. Considering how empty the prison was nowadays, what would be the harm in keeping the prisoner in a Sea Stone fitted cell closer to the entrance. He wouldn’t be breaking out anyway, the keys were on the cork board in Merle’s booth, and he didn’t seem the type to muscle out on his own anyway. Or at least, he hadn’t really tried since his first week in here.

As Whistler approached the cell, she saw the prisoner reclining on the mat in the dim cell, looking up through a tiny window near the ceiling at the moon shining in. She remembered when she had him moved up to 2C, he had thanked her for giving him a window. She knocked on the bars lightly to get his attention as he seemed lost in thought. “Pierce. I got dinner.” He instantly leaned up slightly and turned to look at her. He gave her an innocent smile, the moon shining off of his sharp teeth, and slowly got up to sit in front of the cell door. He clapped his hands together as she slid the tray through the slot at the bottom of the door. “Oho~! You haven’t given this to me before. Let’s see how you did.”

For a while now, Pierce had been giving Lieutenant Whistler recipes and cooking tips, ever since he found out through grape vines she was a terrible cook. He had never asked for anything in particular, the Lieutenant just brought in different things each time, hoping to get more tips and tricks for the kitchen, and hopefully a little criticism. At first he was reluctant since he didn’t want to enforce any stereotypes, but he had soon been convinced that she was pursuing this for her own benefit. He took a bite of the flounder, chewing thoughtfully on what she had presented to him. After swallowing, he immediately took one of the potatoes and chewed it with the same thoughtful rigor. It was lonely down here in the dark, but Pierce was glad to have made at least one lasting friend one the edge of the abyss. He took a quick sip of water before looking back down at the tray. His smile had vanished.

“Is it alright?” Pierce had been trained for a high class pallet so he could say that with regards to a world of high class cuisine, what she had brought him was absolute garbage. But, he knew better than to grade it based on that. “Yeah, they both taste fine, much better than the first thing you brought me.” Beef stew with undercooked brisket and overdone stock, with a few burnt carrots that probably got stuck at the bottom of the pot for good measure. “But the flounder could’ve been seasoned a little more. What we have here is that the side dish is better tasting than the main course which is no good. They would taste fine alone but together, one is clearly outstanding the other. I’d say for the potatoes, leave them cooking a little longer, use a tad more oil. Other than that they’re fine. For the flounder, egghhhh… did you keep track of how much you seasoned it with?”

The lieutenant shook her head. “Good, aim for about… like, take what you used and add about half of that, and then half of that. So almost twice, but not quite. You should use a little less lemon as well. It’s fine but, just a little less.” Whistler was now writing down what Pierce had told her and was nodding, glad to get some input that wasn’t just her sister’s assurance that her cooking was fine. As she continued to write down, he started eating the rest of the food as a meal, not as a grading. In order to eat the potatoes, or any vegetables Whistler had brought him, he had a tendency to eat something else with them. She had known him long enough by this point to know that this wasn’t in any way related to her cooking but simply his childish disdain for vegetables.

“How are the plums coming in? We talked about them 2 weeks ago but I forgot to ask again.” Whistler took a more grounded seat, completely sitting on the floor as opposed to maintaining a knee. “They started coming in this morning actually.” Pierce maintained eye contact with her, and considering how much taller he was than her, he could do this while now also eating without having to look directly at his plate. He could see everything in his periphery. “Mmm. Never really worked with plums. Only your regular vegetables and tomatoes and rosemary and stuff.” He took a sip of water to wash down the weak garlic taste in his mouth and rinse down the ever-present zest of lemon. “Yeah, Olive wants to make a pie with them now.”

“I thought it was going to be a pork sauce.” Pierce gave her a quizzical look before taking a bite out of the flounder, crunchy from all the slightly excessive breading it had received. “It was but apparently she wants to enter into a baking contest next month.” Pierce nodded and returned to eating his food. “I didn’t know plums grew that fast.” Whistler took a look down the hallway. Pierce had forgotten that this time of the year was heavy on paperwork, especially with all the reconstruction going on. “I don’t think they do either.” Pierce chuckled, keeping his mouth closed because he had taken a few too many potatoes this time and didn’t want to be rude. Swallowing heartily he paused for a moment. “I know you’re a bit busy tonight. I don’t want to keep you.” She gave him a suspicious look before returning her gaze down the hallway.

“Jasmine, you can go if you need to. You know I’m not going anywhere.” He gave her another smile, this time with his mouth closed because of all the food stuff probably in his teeth. She returned the smile and got up, straightening out her uniform. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Pierce nodded and returned to eating, Lieutenant Whistler walking down the hallway and back out of Pierce’s confined little world in the dark. He wished the gruel he knew he’d be getting for breakfast tomorrow tasted this good.

[Flame]

Passing through the crowds, Syphalia kept a wary eye out for any marines. Making her way to the inn she walked inside to the view of a small but homey atrium. It seemed to be a nice place, she would probably be able to lay low here if something went bad. Approaching the front desk she smiled at the sleepy old man who was manning it. "How much for three nights? I have no real preferences for rooms, I just need a place to sleep at night." The geezer, shaking his head slightly as if he was waking up, opening his eyes wide open he looked over the table at her. Scratching his head for a second as he yawned he paused then began to talk "hmmm . . . oh uh three nights did you say? That is 200 beri a night for a grand total of 600 beri. Pay first and then you can take this key and it'll be room four down the hall and on the left." Leaning back in his chair he reached out to grab a key on the wall behind him and then placed it on the table before him. 

Syphalia smiled thinking the deal was decent, reaching into one of the pouches on her belt she pulled out a few coins and dropped them on the table. Swiping the key, she walked off into her room to deposit some of her less needed goods. The room was small, with only a bed, nightstand and a lamp but it was enough for Syph. Dropping off some of her extra clothes, she headed out again her sword was sheathed at her side, her cloak donned at her neck to hide the jolly roger printed on the back of her shirt. 

Going back to the old geezer she asked a few quick questions about the best places for gathering information and about any recent incidents that had happened around town. For her questions she got a few answers, the names and locations of a couple places that could be worth checking out as well as some worthwhile knowledge. Apparently there had been a recent explosion at the marine base, which while not hurting many actual marines had created a lot of damage that was slowly being repaired. That and apparently a large amount of prisoners that had been kept here at the Port West marine base had been shipped off to other marine bases in the aftermath of the explosion as an effort to keep the prisoners safely behind bars while Port West was being repaired. Pondering how these things could affect the success of her infiltration she began heading off to the first place the fellow had mentioned as a place where she could gather information.

The first place ended up being a wash. She couldn't enter it at all, it was of course a bar that was frequented by marines of all rank. If it was lower ranked members of the marines it'd probably be fine, but high ranking marines tended be able to sniff out pirates rather well. Walking around with a sword at her side of course also didn't help her case. Going in there would be all but suicidal. Scratching her head she hoped that the other places she was recommended weren't like this one. Turning around she changed her heading to the second bar. On the way she noticed a few interesting groups of people, there seemed to be some bounty hunters here though none of them took notice of her. One group she noticed standing in front of a bounty poster board looking around for some poster. She didn't bother worrying about it, she was sure there weren't any groups that were tailing her anymore.

Moving onward she entered the second bar. Walking up to the barkeep she threw a few coins from her pouch onto the table. The barkeep picked them up, looking at them for a second before pocketing them and reaching behind him to pick up a mug and pouring some golden liquid into it. Dropping it onto the bar, he slid it over to her. Grabbing it while it was sliding she poured a little into her mouth. Satisfied with the taste she smiled at the barkeeper and then got down to business. "What can you tell me about what the marines have been doing since the explosion? I've got an unhealthy need to go visit the base and check out the damage, I hear that its pretty extensive. Perhaps there is a work detail or something I can do."

Looking at her oddly he gave what information he could as well as the address of the construction group that was taking care of rebuilding part of the marine base. She would definitely check them out later, apart from that apparently a lot of the strength of the base had been moved elsewhere while construction was being done. They were stationed at another nearby Marine base so that they would be fully ready to respond to any growing situations. Only a skeleton crew, including the Commander, a few officers, and under one hundred non-coms remained on the island for the time being. That would make sense in connection with the supposed movement of most of the prisoners. Besides a base commander would probably be strong enough to deal with any major threats that came about this early into the Grand Line.

It sounded almost too perfect for what she was trying to do. With a skeleton force to control a base it was fairly possible for her to make it through without running in to too much trouble. Dropping another coin on the table for the information she left the first bar. She had gotten a lot of good information, but perhaps a little more couldn't hurt. 

She headed off to the third recommended place. Apparently, there was a marine that could supposedly be paid off for some information. If she wanted accurate information that would definitely be the best source. Getting to the place, she stopped in front of the door as she heard a loud voice ring out. Apparently quite the commotion was happening in the bar. She hesitated for a second before deciding, the opportunity was a little too good to miss. 

Opening the door she headed in. What was inside was pretty interesting, she saw a familiar face and some other not-so-familiar faces that concerned her a little. What was happening here? 

---

The Black Contractors were out looking at the bounty posters. Grabbing a bounty poster of 'The Firefly' off a wall they all took a good look at the poster. Splitting up they decided to scour the area for their target. If they couldn't find her after a day, they would meet up again and take a different approach. With that they set off, to do their work. Each of them took a different sector, one going to the marine base, another to the business district, and the final one to the port. Each with their own den den mushi to call the others if they spotted her. 

[|The SHAKINATOR|]

“Uzuki Garuda…”

The name was called again. Garuda felt he had heard that voice before but refused to acknowledge it. If he ignored it for long enough, perhaps they would believe it wasn’t him. He was in disguise after all, albeit a poor one at that, if you could even call it a disguise at all. A mole on the chin and an eye-patch weren’t often regarded as the best disguise but they were the only things Garuda could lay his hands on that wouldn’t disturb his charming looks.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. The grab wasn’t exactly offensive but it was tense enough to evoke an action from Garuda. A quick grab of the arm dragged his face into the fist of Garuda and a crimson fountain ensued.

“What the f**k dude? I haven’t even given you the message.

Jeez man. Some people are just f**ked up? This wasn’t even worth the $10 Beri they’re actually paying me.”

Garuda feeling slightly guilty and more than intrigued decided to press on.

“Yeah, sorry about that… Force of habit. So tell me about this message? Who sent you and how do they know-“

The foul-mouthed teenager cut Garuda off pretty abruptly and rudely just so to relay his message so that he wouldn’t forget it.

“Some douche-bags claim to know of you, if you know what I mean and they plan to take advantage of this fact. If you don’t want to end up in prison, they suggested that you meet them at the harbour at 10 past midnight. Make sure you’re alone and I’m done.

Next time, don’t shoot the f**kin’ messenger you moron.”

With that, the kid with the busted nose and shaggy green hair walked off tending to his nose as he did so. Garuda noticed he had several bruises on his face from previous encounters, clearly due to that mouth of his.

The swordsman was left baffled with the situation and there were more than a few eyes now staring in his direction. Just what he needed.

He sighed in relief and turned toward the informant only to realise he had vanished with the money. The parchment he had acquired was also missing. What in the world was going on? First he gets harassed about some meeting and now he got duped after trying his utmost to be careful about it. This shit was just ridiculous.

Little did Garuda know, he had dropped the parchment on the ground in the scuffle with the messenger boy.

[White Mimic]

Pierce finished the food rather quickly, though no more quickly than normal. Portions were never that good, even when Jasmine was cooking. But, rules were rules, and he was getting by fine, much better than he expected to when he first arrived. The ship ride in was much worse for him, with a smaller cell and little to be had in the ways of cuisine, merely bread and water. He wasn’t even allowed to eat himself at that point, he had been chained down. He got why, fishmen were stronger than humans, but it still didn’t make his hardship a picnic. Letting out a small sigh, he slid the tray back through the small opening at the bottom of the cell bars so Merle could retrieve it. He remembered Jay had made the boat ride a bit more bearable, someone Pierce could actually have a conversation with. Looking around at the empty cells in the prison at night though, it was a lonely image that pounded into his head that Jay was long gone. He had been moved somewhere else and even then, Pierce hadn’t seen the guy since they got here, with he himself being kept in the E block and Jay in the C block. He hoped the guy was okay, even if he didn’t have as big an attachment to him as he would’ve preferred.

After a few moments of waiting, he heard the gate open. When Jasmine couldn’t stay long enough, she usually deferred the remainder of Pierce’s dinner duty to Merle. As such, he was already preparing for the colder treatment. As he slowly got up from his seat in front of the bars, he heard Merle call down the hallway as he approached. “Alright, fishman, you know the drill.” Pierce was already making his way to the far wall of the cell. “Eyup.” He placed his hands on the wall and kept his head down, not turning around because that wasn’t protocol for dangerous criminals, especially not fishmen in cells not fitted for fishmen. As always, Pierce allowed his mind to wander as Merle did his job. He traced the lines from the stone work of the wall with his eyes, tapped a few fingers, scrapped the wall lightly with his thumbnail but only for few seconds since other guards had long since drilled into him how much they didn’t trust that behavior. The wall wasn’t really stone, it was just a façade to keep the seastone under it from making the hallway too hot in the summer. It was much nicer to look at than the bare seastone paneling in his old cell in E block.

Pierce heard the tray scrapping against the masonry of the floor, and the resulting echo as it waved throughout the rest of the empty prison, and waited for Merle to leave so he wouldn’t have to stare at a wall all night. There were a few footsteps, but they stopped shortly after starting, making Pierce a bit nervous as it was a stark change from what Merle usually did. Normally, he couldn’t get out of that hallway fast enough. What was going on? What did he want? Pierce eased up a bit when he heard the awkwardness in the significantly smaller man’s voice. “…Uhmm… I… This is, uhmm…” He was almost tempted to look back, but he didn’t want Merle to get too jumpy so he stayed where he was, only turning his head slightly to let Merle know he was listening. “Yeah?”

“I…” There was a long pause before he continued speaking, near the end of which Pierce almost did look back. “You and Lt. Whistler talk, like, a lot right?” Pierce had quickly turned his head back to the wall and firmly pressed his hands into the wall when Merle started. “W-what do you mean?” Pierce was a terrible liar and he wasn’t very good at bluffing, but he didn’t want to outright admit to that and potentially get Jasmine in trouble. Clearly if anyone else would know, it would be Merle, but Pierce didn’t know if there were ramifications for ‘fraternizing’ with outlaws in custody or something or other. “You know what I mean. Just… like…” He was having trouble finding the words, but Pierce hardly knew the guy, so he could hardly be the man’s linguistic guru. “I was… wondering… what… I was just…” He really wished he could see Merle’s face, it would probably make this conversation marginally easier.

“I… does Whistler… does… I was wondering what… I’m sorry, just, nevermind, I’m sorry.” Before Pierce really had a chance to respond, he heard the footsteps again, but they were much faster than he had ever heard them before. Even more shocking was that Merle had inadvertently apologized to Pierce. "Ooookay?" Whatever it was, and Pierce thought he had a pretty good idea what that whole thing was about at this point, it seemed to have rattled Merle pretty badly. After a few seconds of silence, Pierce relaxed from the wall, frilling his fins out a bit before returning them to rest. He didn’t normally stretch out like that this late but that whole exchange was tense and uncomfortable.

[Flame]

From the door she watched as the small confrontation happened before her. She now recognized Garuda as he sat at the bar on the other side of the room. Thinking for a second she might call out to him, she stopped as the boy standing next to him put his hand on Garuda's shoulder. Her eyes widened as Garuda immediately responded to the hand on his shoulder by assaulting the boy who did so. He was as aggressive as she remembered, if not a little more. A concerned look spread across her face as she reconsidered what she had been thinking about earlier. She was going to see if he could help her invade the Marine Base to save her former nakama. But if he was this violent perhaps it would be better to not include him on her little mission. With that kind of temperament he could easily compromise the mission by bringing undue attention to them. As she thought about it she took another look at the situation.

The attitude was calming down already, which was nice she supposed. Garuda had let go of the boy and they were talking quietly to each other. It seems whatever had happened between them had been easily resolved. They seemed to chat for a little while and then the boy left walking off silently. He slid past her as she reanalyzed the situation. She weighed the pros and cons, she knew Garuda was a talented fighter and she could use his help. On the other hand, well what she had witnessed before wasn't very promising. The real question in the end was did she think that stealth or the ability to fight as more worthwhile. Given the information she had, well she wasn't completely sure what would be best. Stealth in the end probably wouldn't be that big a deal she decided. If the information about the skeleton crew was correct then as long as they could fight it would probably be fine. They needed only defeat the marines fast enough before more marines could be called from whatever base they moved to. That wouldn't be too big a deal she figured. The only issue being the strength of the commander. But then if they freed Pierce it would probably end up being easy pickings.

Confirming her decision to herself once more she approached the bar. Strutting slightly she got up upon the stool next to Uzuki Garuda and waved to the barkeep for a drink. Passing him a coin or two from a pouch she took a sip from the jug. It was decent as drinks went, taking another sip from her drink she turned her head slightly to face towards Uzuki.

Softly speaking she said "I don't know what that boy said to you. But Uzuki Garuda, I've got a little job for you if you are in."

Raising her hand she placed it upon his shoulder, she wanted to see how he'd react to this happening twice to him in a row. If he was a bit calmer or still rather antsy.

"I don't have much in terms of rewards for helping out with the job, but you might just find yourself staring into the eyes of an old acquaintance." she smiled slightly wondering if he'd recognize her voice or even herself. She had grown only slightly taller, her hair was in a ponytail so she didn't look exactly the same from when they had last met but in general she didn't she looked all too different.

Smiling she turned her face fully to look at Garuda, readying her other hand on the hilt of her sword in case he overreacted. What an interesting reunion this would be. How fun.

[|The SHAKINATOR|]

(Sorry for the delay guys; been ill. Had most of it written but then forgot about it. Should pick up the pace now.)

Just as the arrogant young lad had left him with a bewildering message, another bewildering act followed. Normally Uzuki Garuda could travel from island to island without a single person recognizing him, yet here he was, popular amongst the crowd.

The ones with the message were more than likely bounty hunters. This one however seemed more familiar. Garuda remained focused on her words, rather than trying to remember who this maiden was. After-all, multitasking didn’t come naturally to Garuda.

"I don't know what that boy said to you. But Uzuki Garuda, I've got a little job for you if you are in."

She suddenly placed her hand on his shoulder, as if they were old associates. This almost caught Garuda out by surprise. It wasn't often a woman placed her hand on Garuda without him charming the hell out of them first.

"I don't have much in terms of rewards for helping out with the job, but you might just find yourself staring into the eyes of an old acquaintance."

It seemed like she had a task she needed help with. Usually if a pretty girl asked, Garuda found it hard to say no. However, this girl seemed mysterious and yet reliable at the same time, much to Garuda’s confusion. If his gut told him he could trust her, he would trust her. He just wanted to remember where he had previously met her.

Suddenly the not so distance memories of Night Beast Island rushed through his head; the genetically modified wolves, Jay Masaru and her. All of a sudden he knew who she was. It was just the name now that was stuck at the edge of his tongue.

“Was it Syphilis?”

Garuda asked cautiously. He feared it was wrong but thought he would make the attempt regardless.

“So this job you have got for me? Does it exactly have to be me? I’m kinda chasing up on a mission of sorts of my own.”

Although Garuda liked helping other people out, especially when they sought out his help, he really wanted to find Jay first. He had to let her know the situation so she would understand.

“You see… You remember Jay Masaru right? That douche who used to hang with me. Well, he kinda got caught by the marines and I’m trying to find a way to bust him…”

Suddenly the thought occurred to the swordsman. What if the acquaintance she mentioned was actually Jay. The former bounty-hunter couldn’t really think of anybody else who would fit the bill.

“Wait a second… By old acquaintance, did you actually mean Jay?”

Garuda pursued her expressions for an answer; hoping the two of them were on the same page here. He was kind of desperate for some help in this situation. Perhaps she was a god-send. Sometimes Garuda liked relying on fate to decide on what step to take. He trusted his instincts and his instincts were heavily based on signs from God.

Despite being classified as a pirate, he believed he was a good man at heart and despised the fact he had a bounty on his head. However, he also knew marines weren’t all good and pirates weren’t all bad. As long as he stayed true to himself, good things would prevail.

[White Mimic]

Pierce backed off of the wall for a bit, twisting his body a little. Bit by bit, a little became a lot, and it culminated in a dampened, satisfying crack which relieved his lower back of tension. The ceilings had always been a bit low for him here but if he bent his legs a little, it felt like he had way more space than he actually did. It was at least enough to move around and keep the body from cramping in such a claustrophobic little space designed to break the spirits of criminals and undesirables. Of course, Pierce had done all he could to make the cell a little more homey, which amounted of course to cleaning off surfaces from time to time with his clothes and a bit of spit-shine for those deep stains in the bricks and mortar he found when he had been moved to this cell. Speaking of which, Pierce figured that now was about as good a time as any to perform his weekly cell scrub down and work himself into a good sleeping state. He rolled off his already unsightly white tee-shirt, and started sweeping up by the window as always.

Just outside the cell window was the dirt yard where most of the outdoors activities went on, training, discipline, execution. A lot of dust usually got kicked in on dry days when the recruits would jog the track around that side of the building. By the time it would come around to cleaning day again, while it wasn’t too noticeable, the cell would be coated in a thin film of airborne grime, and Pierce usually needed something to do. After sweeping up the coats born of dry spells, Pierce would usually move onto the stains, the formations of mildew which came from ceiling drippings during the rainy or humid days. Many of them were just residue films, nothing a nice wipe down couldn’t solve. A few of them were stubborn though, like the darkening shade of stone on the floor by the eastern set of bars that had been there since he moved, spread just so that Pierce imagined someone had either vomited over there or bled out from an injury, maybe along the lines of banging their head against the bar. Or something slightly more disgusting.

He had gotten in a little trouble after the first attempt at cleaning that particular stain since he used a white tee-shirt he wore under his blue prison jumper to clean the space and he didn’t want to put it back on. After all, he didn’t exactly know what he had scrubbed up with it. At the time, guards took it as an excuse to treat him a bit more roughly, suddenly deciding that the tee-shirt was part of a prison uniform that he was ‘disgracing’. Needless to say, after he sustained a few bruises during the forceful and restrained feeding and drinking periods following that day, Pierce was less inclined to ‘disrespect’ anything, though they didn’t seem to care as much when they would find the tee-shirt stained with spit and dust from the dingy dungeon floor. Some even made remarks regarding that those were the quality of clothes he deserved and he should’ve been thanking the marines for taking the time to occasionally provide clean ones, about two weeks between exchanges on average. Rather, he was simply glad that he had been allowed clothing at all, even if it was a bit too tight for him. He knew from Jasmine though that his clothing had purposely been fitted too tight, mostly to make prison sentences slightly more effective, but also to restrict movement in the case of an uprising or similar problem. There wasn’t much she could do with the uniform, she had said, but she made it up to Pierce by retrieving an article of clothing that had meant quite a lot to him: his bandana.

He imagined she also pulled some strings in this regard since he figured one of the treatments in a marine prison was to have any all hints, no matter how remote, of personal identity stripped to make the inmates less human. Maybe he was wrong; Maybe he was so far from human to the other guards that took shifts here that it didn’t matter to them in the slightest. Still, Jasmine had warned him about wearing it, particularly in that wearing it on his head could make him seem more threatening, which would prompt guards to harass him or take it away. Instead, she suggested he wear it around his neck or arm if he absolutely wanted to, since it could come across as just another fetter. Pierce was a bit shaky on the reasoning, but he would also be ready to admit that he wasn’t a particularly smart guy and didn’t have a firm grasp on the use of that kind of imagery to influence others moods.

From what he gathered though, Jasmine read a lot of books and was quite an analyst of imagery and deeper meaning and other subliminal jargon he didn’t quite understand. Whenever she talked about something like that, like a book she read or a story she heard, the train of conversation would generally venture into periods of Pierce just blindly agreeing to whatever she said because he didn’t quite get it. Heaven help her, was she trying to engage him though. Every so often, she would bring him a book and he would tear through it relatively quickly given how much time he had on his hands. The most recent one he was working on was deceivingly difficult to grasp, however. “Into the Shade” was only around 80 pages long, but Pierce repeatedly had to reread pages he had skimmed through completely without retaining any of their contents. It probably would’ve helped if he didn’t find story so glaringly uninteresting. Still, he had to at least try to get through and understand it if he wanted to be a better conversationalist to Jasmine, she was all he really had here.

Thinking about the book, Pierce ran his clothed hand against the raw texture of the cold smooth stone a bit too quickly, catching it on a small clip in the rock the bricks had been cut from. As his hand continued recklessly, the shirt tried to stay behind and the fibrous texture shaved off a bit of skin. It was only a light burn and fishmen had tough skin, but it still brought him back out of his head to what he was doing. The majority of the grime on the floor had been cleaned up as most of it was near the window, staining a portion of the shirt a splotchy patterned beige. The cool breeze drifting from the barred, open-air window felt pleasant on Pierce’s lightly sweaty skin, slightly tired from exerting its ration of elbow grease. He had checked the bars a few days before and they had remained fairly clean for the week, enough so that he felt justified in skipping them. He flopped down on the hard mat in the corner, adjusting its placement when he pulled “Into the Shade” out from under its hiding spot beneath his head and set it down to the side. Through the small window high above the floor he could see the night sky, though now the moon was somewhere beyond the wall of brick and covered seastone. He rather liked it this way, without the white glare shining in his face while he slept, but it would be a little while before he actually fell asleep. He hadn’t really noticed yet, but he had stayed up late for a few consecutive nights now, lost in thought. As he drifted off into said thought, his hand drifted up to the bandana tied to and loosely hanging from his neck, clutching it softly, like a collar that was only a smidge too tight.

[Flame]

"Was it Syphilis?"

Syphalia flinched at that, she had been misnamed that a few times. It wasn't exactly pleasant being called a sexually transmitted disease. Taking a second to calm herself from the anger that raged up inside of her she breathed slowly in and out. Opening a thin smile up for Garuda she, as politely as she could tried to correct him "Thats not right Garuda, the name is Syphalia though you can call me Syph or Firefly if that suits you better. I'm not opposed to my nickname."

She stopped talking once more as Uzuki Garuda looked to talk once again, his voice seemed more serious than when he had inquired about his correctness concerning her name.

“So this job you have got for me? Does it exactly have to be me? I’m kinda chasing up on a mission of sorts of my own."

Syphalia frowned slightly, it would've been nice to have another person whom she could trust on this job. This wasn't the blues anymore she couldn't take the marines in this area lightly. In the blues she was probably enough for this kind of job but not here. She was about to answer when Garuda cut off her talking by continuing his own kind of rant.

“You see… You remember Jay Masaru right? That douche who used to hang with me. Well, he kinda got caught by the marines and I’m trying to find a way to bust him…”

Syphalia's ears perked at hearing that Jay Masaru had been caught by the marines and that Uzuki was going to try and bust him. It was quite odd, she was here to bust an old acquaintance as well. It wasn't Jay but perhaps this was a stroke of luck. They had what seemed to be the same objective, now all she had to do was convince him that the job was worth doing together. What luck this was in the end, if Jay was there as well it would be even better, between Garuda, herself, Jay and Pierce she figured they could easily escape whatever trouble was here on this small island since it was somewhat emptied of marines. Once again she cleared her throat to begin to talk but was overshadowed by Garuda saying his own thing so she paused seeing what else he had to add.

“Wait a second… By old acquaintance, did you actually mean Jay?”

"Well . . . no, my old acquaintance isn't Jay, though I suppose if he is also there that would make two acquaintances to break free." She said pausing to think, how could she word this best.

"My acquaintance is someone I used to hang around with back when I was on that crew. I doubt you've heard of him but he goes by the name Pierce." Pierce was an old crewmate. Though she felt little remorse for leaving the broken down crew she had held nothing against any of them with the exception of Jack. It'd be nice to see such a reminiscent face once again, her eyes darted around as she thought back for a second.

"In any case it seems he was also caught by the marines. And from the information I've received I found out that he is being held here. Or at least was, I don't know if you heard but there was an explosion here recently. In any case they moved a lot of the inmates off island to some other place." she wondered if one of the two might have been moved off. Either way she at least needed to make sure that Pierce wasn't here, she wasn't sure if she'd chase after him but at least she needed to make some sort of effort.

Taking a sip of her drink she paused considering how best to put this. She was sure that Garuda appreciated the idea of trying to be lowkey with this plan. They wanted to be in and out with as little trouble as possible. Which meant they needed a safe way in, which was the idea of entering the workforce that was repairing the marine base. It wouldn't be an easy job, if they were recognized things could go sour extremely quickly.

"In any case, if you want to do it, I'm going to be signing up with a workforce thats helping repair damage to the Marine Base. With that excuse to get on the island I'll be trying to get into the base, find the prison and break Pierce out if hes there. I'd appreciate some help, Jay could also be there." she paused hesitating because she had said that all out loud. She might've been talking under her breath but this wasn't the kind of conversation that should be spoken in a public bar. Annoyed with herself she looked around the room.

No one seemed to be reacting to what she had said. Perhaps it was just that kind of bar. She took a larger swig of the alcohol to mellow her troubles and stuck her hand out at Garuda. If he took it they were partners, if he didn't then they had the same objective but would be trying to get to it differently. Either way it couldn't be that bad could it?

[|The SHAKINATOR|]

Pierce... Garuda couldn't really say he knew Pierce but he sure had heard the name before… perhaps from Jay himself. Anyhow, this was the best shot he had of rescuing Jay. Perhaps this Pierce guy would have more information. Either way, he'd found an ally who could help him so he wouldn't pass up on the opportunity.

But he didn’t really know Syphillia very well. They had met before on the Night-Beast Island but that whole encounter was like a nightmare he had been trying not to forget but it all seemed so blurry, as if it had been an out-of-body experience. Had he been that close to death? Only Jay would be able to clarify things for Garuda. Everything just seemed to have happened so fast once he’d gained consciousness.

"In any case, if you want to do it, I'm going to be signing up with a workforce that's helping repair damage to the Marine Base. With that excuse to get on the island I'll be trying to get into the base, find the prison and break Pierce out if he’s there. I'd appreciate some help, Jay could also be there."

Garuda listened to Syphillia's idea carefully. The plan wasn't bad but there was a major flaw. How would they pass with disguises considering they were both wanted criminals of the law?

“Erm… I’m all up for helping you out but it’s not going to be easy going under cover. Apparently, there are some guys on this island who already know of me. They’re wanting me to meet up tonight at the harbour. I’m thinking possible bounty hunters.

Hmmm… What we should do here…”

Garuda paused a moment as he tried to think of a cool ass plan that could solve this situation. He concentrated hard, straining his eyebrows, burrowing them into his eyes in deep thought. His mind was completely blank but he kept his expression the same to make it seem like he was still thinking real hard. In actual fact, he could not concentrate one single bit.

“… is that…”

Another pause followed. By this time, Syphillia would have realised this dud had nothing. Finally after another long pause, Garuda decided it was time to give up.

“Yeah, I don’t really have anything. Let’s just go with your plan.”

The swordsman sighed and then got off his seat, having finished his drink quite a while ago. His mind drifted back to Jay and the condition he would currently be in, locked in some prison cell; how he would hate being so helpless. They probably took all his cool weapons away as well. They would have to retrieve them.

[White Mimic]

His thumb stroked the upper edge of his bandana as he reflected. His situation was hardly enjoyable, but considering what he had done, this seemed for the best. Pierce had quite a bit of time to himself to think these days, and yet he still hadn’t come to a conclusion on whether or not he was justified in tearing the throat out of man with his teeth. There was much more to the gruesome event than that of course, but he still hadn’t gotten past the idea that he had taken the life of another person and in such a brutal manner that it honestly had surprised him. Rather until he decisively figured himself out, he felt that this, his indefinite imprisonment in a marine cell block, was the safest option for him and everyone around him. He dealt with hostility all the time, and even before he had tagged along with a pirate crew and earned himself the bounty he held, he had hurt others, mostly those that picked a fight with him. However, he had never outright killed anyone, and didn’t wish to, but it happened anyway.

No matter how hard he tried to suppress it, his latent fury would bubble up again somehow. At the self-criticism, his grip on his bandana gradually tightened.

---

“Oh man, Pierce you got off so lucky, man.” An observation that had been obvious to everyone, yet Hans felt it necessary to blurt out anyway. Then again, he couldn’t come on the trip this time so he would’ve been the last to hear about it. “I know…” Pierce looked up from the dishes for a second to acknowledge Hans’s statement before returning to the large metal pot he held in his hands, scrubbing it down with a little brush roughly the size of his juvenile fist, if not smaller. He understood the punishment, the reason for it. Normally, Hans was the one who had to deal with the kind of discipline Pierce was now enduring because he usually took it too far, whatever ‘it’ was. But normally, whatever Hans did wouldn’t result in a reduced list of potential customers. He had been lucky that to some extent, Jeri had gladly endorsed Pierce’s agency to stand up for himself, she just wished that it wouldn’t cut into the business as hard as it did. “He had it coming though. Even Jeri said so.”

A look of astonishment spread across Hans’ face, at first skeptical that Jeri would ever go easy on what he had heard gone down, but when he looked over at Duster, he received a quiet nod. “He really did. Like, it was bad.” Hans took a seat next to Duster on the other side of the metal island counter, pulling one of the barstools from the other room and sliding it right up to the counter, clambering up to the top with Dusters help before leaning against the table to talk with Pierce on the other side, beaming like an idiot. “Dude, you have to tell me what happened. Only thing I’ve heard was you punched a guy out.” Duster was there when it happened so he returned to the book he had been reading, allowing Pierce to give his piece. “Yeah, that’s the short version.” The young Pierce’s scrubbing became a bit more brisk and forceful, though this was merely because some of the red wine had coagulated on the steel and wasn’t scraping off as well. Hans was afraid, however, that Pierce was getting angry. He paused in his cleaning and looked up at the ceiling, figuring out the words before he said them. “Uhmm… well, Duster and I were test running that night, sure you know that already.”

“Uh-huh, yeah?” Hans was fidgeting in his seat. He loved to listen to the gossip and day to day dealings since he didn’t actually live at the kitchen like Pierce and Duster and felt he missed out on a lot of happenings, such as this one. “I picked the tilapia, and after I made it, it went to this one guy.” Setting the scrubbing brush aside, Pierce had resorted to picking the red wine off with his fingernails. There were still quite a few dishes to clean but Jeri wanted them all spotless so he wouldn’t rest until this one was taken care of. There wasn’t enough room in the sink to properly soak it anyway. “Can’t remember his name.”

“Mezin Nezzer.” Duster didn’t even look up with his own contribution to the conversation, flipping a page in the book instead. He was more of the quiet encyclopedia type anyway, so this was normal for him, and Pierce was counting on his memory. “Thanks. Well, this guy, Nezzer, he wanted to act like a big shot I guess and he came into the kitchen asking who made it. The plate was mine of course and everyone knew it.” Also, from the look on his face when he entered the kitchen, Pierce knew he had more or less succeeded in his test run at the time, though considering what followed, he was no longer as certain. “I, uh… I didn’t want to risk making a scene again but I think Jeri wanted to boost my confidence or something, I dunno.” The red wine hadn’t been chipped off completely yet but Pierce set the pot aside and glanced back at Hans and Duster across the counter. Pierce was plenty confident in the kitchen but generally, when people outside of the catering company found out he was a fishman, things didn’t go so smoothly. That wasn’t to say they went badly, but he was all too aware of his race in public. He couldn’t afford to not be aware when most everyone else was so ready to remind him. “She… brought him over to me and…” An angry look crept across his face, but it was directed at nothing. He stared at the ground a bit in silence before exhaling and continuing with the pot. “…he didn’t believe her at first.”

Duster looked up from his book and Hans remained quiet, but was still embroiled in the story. “When she finally convinced him, he got angry and said… some things…” They didn’t want to interrupt him or comfort him from what they knew was coming next, they were all too knowledgeable of the button that they would never press. Only it was clear that this man, Nezzer, had pressed the button in the most spectacular fashion. Hans could piece together the story from here but, again, this wasn’t a time to be interrupting his close friend. “…he yelled at me, yelled at Jeri, and when I tried to defend myself, he… he flew into a frenzy. She… tried to calm him down.” He sighed again and continued picking at the dwindling dregs of red wine with a growing vigor. “He left and Jeri started apologizing that she made a bad decision in thrusting the credit at me… I mean, I was fine, I wanted the credit but in retrospect it probably wasn’t worth it. Before I could say anything about it though, he came back in and decided it would be a good idea to… deface it front of me, to make a ‘point’.”

“Deface it? What? What did he do?” Hans was still interested, but he was keeping careful with his words now. Duster could see he was trying to keep as neutral as possible so as not to pull the trigger a second time, but asking Pierce for specifics probably wasn’t the best idea. “He threw it on the ground and, uh… stamped on it while…” Pierce paused, his grip tightening on the pot, more so than Hans had ever seen. The circular shape was slowly compressing into something more elliptical and the sight of it caused him to lean back in his seat, finally yielding from the counter. “…saying some things…” Neither he nor Duster dared to say any possible form of the ever provocative ‘calm down’. Hans and Duster had never really been afraid of Pierce, not since they got to know him a few years back, but this was concerning at the very least. After a few more moments of silence and tension, Pierce eased off on the pot, allowing it to bend back into its former shape. A fourteen year old fishman child like Pierce may have been stronger than a human child like Hans or Duster, but he was still only fourteen and quite incapable of bending a thick, stainless steel pot in any permanent way. He looked back briefly at Hans and Duster and continued picking at the saucy scab inside the pot. “Sorry… but that’s when I… y’know…”

“Right. I got ya.” Hans was leaning in again, for the storm, if there even was one, was passed. “How badly did you beat him?” Pierce shrugged, still looking into the dark confines of the pot, the ring of red wine flecking almost completely chipped away. “I dunno, pretty badly. He was all bloody and soft, I mean I didn’t hold back.” Duster chipped in once again. “He hit him fourteen times, all in the face. Had him like pinned down and everything. Broke the guys nose on the first hit I think.” Hans shot a look of excitement and awe at Pierce. “Haha! You broke his nose!? Dude, that’s awesome!” Duster slid the book away since it seemed the story was more or less over and he could contribute to the conversation with Hans. “Jeri thought so too.” Pierce set the pot aside once more, the ring having picked clean off and rinsed. He grabbed the next one and was relieved he could wash it normally as it only contained Alfredo residue, something gooey and easily washable. “Yeah but she has me doing this anyway since I ‘cost the company a lot of potential clients’.” His Jeri impression wasn’t very good since he could never get her inflection just right.

“Hmm… by the way where is everyone.” Hans took a look around at the large kitchen which usually seemed a bit smaller when the rest of the company was working, with people and dishes moving through cramped alleys and the three of them usually working in a corner somewhere, peeling things. “Other side of the island. Wedding Reception I think, which is weird… haven’t even seen a cake.” Hans gave Duster a glance of suspicion. “Why aren’t you with them?” In response, Duster shrugged. It wasn’t often that he was completely in the dark as to what was going on. “I dunno. If you asked me, Jeri sounded relieved that Pierce did what he did. Asked me to keep him company… I don’t think she’s wants us up there.” Pierce looked over from his pot, which he had finished cleaning and had moved onto a greasy pan that smelt like it had handled steak most recently. “Oh good, was worried it was actually my fault.”

“Ha! Anyway, I found something the other day that I thought you guys might like. Come on, I’ll show you.” Hans was already eagerly climbing down from the stool when Pierce interrupted. “Can’t, I got to get these done by tomorrow.” It didn’t stop Hans. “Ah come on, look at how many you’ve got left. You’re fine.” It was kinda true, Pierce had finished a good portion of the dishes that had been laid out for him, enough that he could probably finish the rest over the course of two hours. That he had been the fastest out of the three of them in dish cleaning and also the best at preparing and cooking fish, he usually got a lot of flack from Hans about how his race gave him an unfair advantage. Of course, Pierce would sometimes retort with a sarcastic remark dancing along the fringes of the disadvantages, but he usually would roll with the joke and make a snide comment about the ‘inferiority of humans’, as long as they weren’t in public of course. “I suppose you’re right… Duster, what do you think.” Duster nodded in agreement. “You’ll be fine. Probably. Why what do you want to show us?” Hans flashed a sly little grin, slowly propping the door open. “Oh, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it.”

[Flame]

DAMMIT SHAKI SPELL IT RIGHT, IF YOU CAN'T TYPE THE WHOLE THING CORRECTLY JUST USE SYPH

Garuda responded to her "Erm… I’m all up for helping you out but it’s not going to be easy going under cover. Apparently, there are some guys on this island who already know of me. They’re wanting me to meet up tonight at the harbour. I’m thinking possible bounty hunters.

Hmmm… What we should do here…"

He paused, he seemed to be thinking about a different idea on how to do it. He was puzzling over it, if he thought of a decent idea she was open to being receptive. She understood the need to be as incognito as possible. Normally she would've been stubborn about going by her plan but it was a dangerous mission, if there was a better way she would take it. Garuda started talking again.

“… is that…”

Now he seemed more unsure, perhaps he couldn't actually think of anything. Honestly, she wasn't expecting much, Syphalia thought herself pretty smart and decently clever. If Garuda could think of a better plan than her she would've felt at least a little dumb. If he couldn't she could save face at least for herself.

“Yeah, I don’t really have anything. Let’s just go with your plan.”

Exactly what Syphalia had expected of him. Honestly, her plan wasn't the greatest, but if there was a better plan Syphalia hadn't thought of it. Invading a marine base, even a stripped and currently being repaired one such as the one here was not something that Syph made a practice of. Getting in without ticking off any alarms was honestly almost impossible. Given who was trying to do this job and for what they were going for there was no way they were getting in and out without being caught. It was inconceivable that they could break Pierce out of a prison in the middle of a marine base without letting the marines know.

The point of the plan was to get them as close as possible to the marine base without being noticed. They needed only to blend-in to get within the Marine grounds from there the real mission began. Evading marines and the like they needed to enter the base, reach the central tower and find the entrance to the prison area. From there they would have to find Pierce and perhaps Jay, break them out and safely make it away from whatever marines might be on the island. That and apparently any bounty hunters who found out about the bounties breaking out of the area.

Escaping the island in the end would probably be the easiest part of this since it required simply commandeering a vessel and getting out of the way. Syph still had a log pose on her, it was already on its way to being set. They could easily get navigate their way to the next island. After thinking so much about the plan Syphalia remembered to respond to Garuda.

"Well if we are going with my plan, you should get ready the job starts in less than an hour. The idea of the job is to get us as far into the marine base as possible without being noticed. From there its just evading people for as long as possible until we can break them out. Finally, run for it. Not much else to say we'll have to grab a ship and run. If you can find an eternal pose that would be perfect as well. Getting off the route will help us lose their trail if they follow us." she paused having said quite a bit.

"You say there are bounty hunters here? That'll be troublesome, definitely means we need to get out of here fast. Between bounty hunters and marines life could be pretty hard for us. I'm pretty sure I lost the trail of any bounty hunters following me so it should only be your troubles." she said in a kind of teasing manner. The insinuation that the hunters would all be his fault just for fun.

"Well meet me outside the marine base, there's a bar just north of the entrance. You can meet me there, I'll get us in to the detail. Shouldn't be too hard ... well see you there!" Syphalia smiled as sweetly as she could. Unfortunately she wasn't very girly so she gave a very tomboyish smile. Dropping some coins on the table for the barkeep she walked out of the bar leaving Garuda behind herself.

She herself was already prepared and headed straight to the bar without even worrying about anything. She covered herself only minimally to make sure she didn't make it obvious that it was her. Which basically meant covering the jolly roger on the back of her t-shirt. Her relaxation was probably a little too much as she walked through the town. She was feeling a little relaxed because she didn't think she needed to worry until the real mission started.

Surely it would backfire and definitely someone noticed her. Someone from a group who specialized in the capture of dangerous pirates. He noticed her, tracking her silently to the bar he suddenly realized that he didn't have his friends with him. It was more important to find them, on his own he didn't feel confident in fighting her one on one. So he left, with a decent idea of what the Firefly would be doing to gather his friends. He would be back for her, he would be back for her in time. That was for sure.

[|The SHAKINATOR|]

Garuda remained at his seat as Syphalia left the tavern. Despite his unsureness of this plan, he was definitely going to go ahead with it. After all, it was the only thing going for him at this very moment. Any ally was better than no ally.

With his mind in thought, the former bounty hunter forgot all about the note he had come to acquire and left it to be treaded upon on the floor. The name Jay Masaru could clearly be seen on the note amongst other names, although a cross was placed besides it.

On the back of his mind, the message from the supposedly bounty hunter still lurked. Could they potentially be a problem in this whole mission? Could they possibly jeopardise this rescue mission? There wasn’t much point mulling over it at this very moment, the former bounty-hunter realised. Only time would tell.

In the meantime, he had to get a better disguise. Something that people wouldn’t so easily recognise… something that wouldn’t stand out in the crowd. He had to blend in. Syphalia seemed to manage so with a simple hood. Perhaps a hood would be required. Maybe a cloak would go well with that? Suddenly the appearance of a super-hero triggered his thought process.

Hmmm… Maybe not the best of ideas… The whole underwear over the pants wasn’t really his style. The swordsman would look very awkward in a superhero costume. He was a swordsman vigilante.

Vigilante was the new word he was using for himself. The thought of being a pirate didn’t settle well with him. After all, he did hunt them down once upon a time.
He needed a proper vigilante look, something that would intimidate onlookers as not to approach him whilst also not revealing his appearance to the public.

He already had the body size to put people off from approaching him, unless they actually wanted to test their strength, he just had to hide his features. Or change them…
His thought immediately fell to his hair. His long locks of hair. He couldn’t dream of removing them. But perhaps a change in style would be more suiting.

He brushed his hands through his hair and began to twiddle with them. The mighty size of his hair was big enough to consume his entire fist if it wanted. His hand lingered down to his chin where his stubble was beginning to grow uncomfortable. With a brush of the little bush that was emerging from his jaw, an idea popped into his head. His eyes affixing upon the sign of a barber shop.

[White Mimic]

After a long hurried walk, the boys arrived at a beach far from the town, Pierce and Duster following Hans down a hill of tall sandy grass to the shore. “Outta curiosity, what were you doing all the way up here?” Duster was more of the indoor type and rarely ventured this far out of town, except when Pierce or Hans pulled him along beyond the outskirts. “Was hanging out with Frida, the other day while you guys were off testing- What?” Once Hans had mentioned Frida, Pierce and Duster had started snickering behind him, as they generally did whenever Hans mentioned his latest venture with whatever girl he fancied that month or two. Out of the three, he was the only one who even really cared for girls for the moment, even if he had terrible luck in pursuing his adolescent fantasies. Pierce never really cared for human girls since most of the ones that were okay with him being around didn’t seem to get him anyway, and Duster just plain wasn’t interested. “Shut up!” The snickering continued as Hans stormed down the hill and into the sand, making his way over to a willow at the inland edge of the beach, throwing the hanging branches aside as he approached the object with in.

Duster followed in second, with Pierce bringing up the rear, and they laid their eyes upon what had apparently excited Hans so much: a derelict rowboat that had been dragged under the shade of the willow, likely by Hans if the slightly fresh sand trails were to be trusted. It looked like it had already decayed into mostly driftwood, with a bit of green slimy residue clinging to grey, aging wood. “Ah man, you guys shoulda seen what we found.” Hans was leaning into the rowboat, reaching under the seats. He pulled out a weathered rucksack which rattled around its merchandise as Hans slid it back over the side and into the sand with a jangling, grainy plop. He continued as he untied the knot in the bag, which Pierce could tell was Hans’ doing as it was the same knot they all used to tie potato bags. “Was like, a bunch of money here. I took like half of it and hid it somewhere in the woods.” He flailed a hand over towards the distant tree line. Pierce sniggered again. “So you gave the rest to Frida then?” Pulling the knot loose and preparing to unveil the secrets inside, Hans snapped back. “I swear to god, Pierce! Shut up or I’m not sharing any of it with you!” Pierce obliged his friend, but continued to giggle to himself. “Wouldn’t it have made more sense to show us the money first?”

“Perhaps…” Hans grinned mischievously as he tucked a hand inside the mouth of the bag. “Or maybe I thought you guys would like this more.” He quickly tugged open the mouth of the bag, the drawstring making the crusty sliding noise of an old zip cord, and revealing the treasure inside. It was what looked to be an almost complete set of fine silverware, ornate and decorated with what appeared to be porcelain sporting carved, floral patterns. Normally, children wouldn’t care for this, but Pierce, Duster, and Hans all knew the value of a fine set of silverware, especially in the world of high cuisine. “Woah!” Pierce and duster both started pulling utensils from the bag to look at them. They were old and worn it appeared, but still usable with a bit of cleaning, and still likely worth a lot of money, way more than what Frida had probably got from Hans when they first found the boat. Pierce was trying to polish a spoon he had taken while Duster started examining each and every piece he could see in the bag. “Is it a complete set?”

Hans shook his head, still grinning. “No, it’s missing a salad fork, a soup spoon, and… I wanna say…” Duster carefully started placing the silverware back in the bag, interrupting. “Fish Knife. There aren’t any fish knives in here.” Pierce put the spoon back in the bag as well. “Dang, not worth a whole lot then?” Duster looked up at Pierce, smiling slightly as he believed he had caught on to Hans’ game. “Not necessarily I don’t think.” Hans pouted a little but was glad that Duster stopped talking since they all knew Hans liked to be the one to go over a plan. “Figures you saw it too, but there are multiples of almost everything else.” Pierce nodded. “Yeah? So?” Tying the bag closed, Hans struggled to lift the bag back over the boat to tuck it back in its hiding place. “So, do you remem… egh, do you… do you, c’mon… ah thanks.” Pierce had taken a hold of the bag to help Hans put it back in, though it quickly became Pierce simply taking the bag from Hans and putting it into the boat himself, letting Hans slide it in place once it had been returned. “Do you remember when that Marine ship sunk that old pirate caravel off the coast a few months back?” Pierce nodded again as he remembered the recent apprehension of the Antiquity Pirates on this island, remained silent for a few moments, and then started beaming with his own sharp, flashing grin. “Oh I see.” It suddenly made sense why Duster and Hans were smiling at him, and at him in particular.

“Ah but we don’t know where the wreck is, it could be anywhere, yeah?” Hans shrugged. “Could be. But I mean the row boat made it over to here so I can’t imagine the wreck is too far away.” Duster started looking through the bag again, but placed a hand on Pierce’s shoulder briefly. “You’ll find it pretty fast, that’s kinda your thing. But if I were you…” As always, Duster had to be a know it all and remember how the drifts around the island worked. He turned to look up the northern side of the beach and pointed out to the waters up there. “Should probably check up there I think. The ship was sunk near Koala Town right?” Pierce nodded. “That’s what I heard, yeah.” Duster continued to point over at the northern waters. “Then yeah, try over there first. If not we can get closer to Koala Town.”

“Right.” Pierce walked out of the curtain of willow branches, followed momentarily by Hans and Duster in that order, though they remained behind as Pierce started wading into the ocean, the cool water rising above his sandals and surrounding his webbed feet. “I’ll be right back then. Duster, should I check anywhere else while I’m over there?” As the fishboy made his way into deeper and deeper waters, Duster yelled out after him. “Not really, current comes in this direction so if you don’t see it, just come straight back!” Pierce gave a thumbs up. “Will do!” He had reached treading depth but that meant little as he managed to leap up a small distance before diving back into the surface, his friends disappearing from view as he slid through the wet blue blanket and glided across the ocean floor into the landscape few humans here ever got to really experience. It wasn’t really impressive on this side of the island though, not as impressive as the reef just off the coast of Kenga Town where Pierce lived. Still, outcroppings of coral were scattered across bounding underwater hills of sand and sometimes rocks.

Around here, north of Kenga Town, Pierce remembered that rather than reefs, there were trenches. These trenches were different ecosystems all on their own, but were still coral based systems, with smaller fish living in tandem with larger scarier specimens in the darker depths. This wasn’t the time to gawk at things he had only seen a few times before, however. Instead, Pierce only peered into the trenches as he swam passed and along them. If the ship had sunk over here, he would’ve seen it already on the top of the shelves, so it would have to have fallen into one of the trenches. Checking these smaller ones was simply a formality since, in the distance, he had already spotted the most likely hiding spot for adventure, one of the larger trenches south of Koala Town. At the time, he was unfamiliar, but Duster would inform him that this specific trench was large enough to have a name, Rona’s Scar. And as he approached the Scar, he eventually stopped looking in the smaller pits, having seen the wooden spire peeking out from within. As he torpedoed closer and closer through the deep, the spire soon became a wide cross, with tattered canvas eddying in the light currents. “Bingo.”