Post by Vio on Jan 14, 2015 18:05:29 GMT -5
"You know, Marl," started the Fishwoman, a confident and careless smile upon her face. Her logic was solid from the perspective of a civilian, but from the eyes of a marine gone rogue, such logic was severely flawed. A small and expected laugh escaped her lips as she finished speaking, at which point Merle stepped away from the path and into the docks, not even bothering to wait for his response. For Marlus Caine, marine 'grunts' were not the thing he was worried about at present. He was more than capable enough to handle a small patrol unit on his own, but he was thoroughly against unnecessary killing. What made things worse were the masts of the vessel that lay at the other end of the docks, their silhouettes some of the largest at the base. A battleship. And not just any battleship, either, but his own pride and joy. But surely that had meant they had moved it? Perhaps so that repairs could be made more easily? But where the Zophiel was, its crew was always near.
"Wait, Merle!" He exclaimed, eyes widening as he watched the blue-skinned girl limp freely into view. He had no choice in the matter now, all because she had made a critical mistake. Her own presence had likely caused the base to double up their patrols, both in number of men and combat capabilities, and if she was spotted again by marines at this time? Well, one could only imagine the reaction she would receive. Stepping out of the shadows and onto the docks himself, the archer hastily moved to her side; bow clutched in his left hand, he grabbed her shoulder with his right in an attempt to stop her. He whispered harshly. "If we're spotted by marines now, it'll be-"
"Captain?" Said another man's voice from behind them. Releasing his grip, the bowman turned about on the spot to face the source of sound. Around fifteen yards away, if that, the light of a lantern cast a lengthy shadow across the dark boards of the docks. A man dressed in white and blue, with sky blue eyes and a blond fuzz upon his head. Of all the people they had to encounter, it was the ever vigilant Lieutenant Clerk, accompanied by four seamen whose features were unclear from the positioning of the light source. There were so many factors to take into account, but the rogue Captain himself was not quite capable of keeping tabs on every little detail. His heart started to pound in his chest as his gaze met that of his subordinate, watching those blue hues shift to the Fishwoman and back. "What're you doing out here with her...?"
"Lieutenant Clerk," Caine muttered, identifying the colleague-turned-threat and eyeing the weapons he carried. Sword and pistol, as per usual, and the gleam of lantern light upon metal indicated that the men accompanying him were also armed with sabres, but not rifles. Near enough yypical armament for a patrol, but definitely not the typical man to be on one. He had no idea what his XO was doing, given his previous orders of the day, but he realised that even Clerk was thorough in his work. Maintaining those rigorous regimes was ideal for the crew of the Zophiel, so it made sense. The usually observant marksman had carelessly overlooked a simple detail, blinded by his own confusion and internal conflict. "If you must know, I'm planning to escort this innocent woman away from here... What about yourself?"
Silence. The tension was thick in the air as the two gentlemen stared at each other, the eyes of other observers looking upon them from the decks of commercial vessels and private boats. It was not uncommon to see marines at the docks, most men and women merely ignoring their presence, but even they bystanders seemed to be able to sense trouble in the air. But what of Merle? For a moment, the Captain's eyes deviated and looked towards the injured lady, but they quickly snapped back to stare at Clerk. The blond man had drawn his pistol, pointing it towards the violet-haired rebel as the other men readied their own firearms and spread out behind him.
"Sorry I have to say this, Cap'n," Clerk sighed, his thumb pulling back the hammer of his pistol with a strong click signifying that it was cocked and ready. Strange. Clerk was a swordsman more than a marksman. The melee combatant to accompany his own ranged prowess, but Marlus also knew that such an action meant he was under serious orders. Making a quick mental calculation, he totaled up the time in his head. In the time it had taken them to leave the jail and reach the docks, it was plausible that Warden Harper had awoken Stephens and gained knowledge of what had happened. Then, he would have had to contact Captain Barton, then she would have had to give orders to the rest of the base. That would have taken more than a few minutes, surely? Unless...
"Cap'n Barton ordered me to keep an eye on you, sir," the officer explained, Marlus watching his gun carefully as he adjusted his chosen target. For a moment, he aimed at Merle, but instead trained his pistol upon himself again. "She was worried you'd do something rash after your last talk with her. Guess she was right, eh?"
"Rash... No, I wouldn't call what I'm doing rash, Lieutenant," the rebel retorted, slowly stepping back a little and nodding at Merle. She was in no condition to run for it, but there was no other choice at this point in time. Actually, did it matter what choice they made? A skilled officer with a gun trained upon them was an intimidating sight to behold, even for a veteran of combat such as himself, and all it took was one good bullet to take him down. The same applied for the girl, as well. Fishfolk were abnormally strong by human standards, but that did not make them bulletproof. Fifteen yards was not enough distance to dodge a bullet with anything less than Soru speed, which he was pretty sure she was not capable of, and even he was uncertain of whether he could react in time. A horrid sense of ineptitude swallowed the archer's heart as he realised the circumstances, stricken by his probably failure.
"If not rash, then what? ...Look, Cap'n, I know how you feel about the whole discrimination thing, b-"
"Don't you DARE say you know how I feel!" Marlus barked, his hand moving to his quiver and plucking free a single black-tailed arrow, swiftly bringing it to his bow and raising both. Bowstring drawn, eyes focused. But he could not loose an arrow. Nor did Clerk pull the trigger. Respect between these men was a mutual thing, demonstrating their understanding of one another to all those present. "...You weren't at Sabaody, Clerk. You don't understand..."
"I understand you well enough to know what you're doing is wrong, Marlus! Now make your choice," Clerk replied swiftly, glaring at the Captain, and then towards the girl as his men drew their blades and spread out into a half-circle. "You too, miss..."It's up to you how to progress this part, Flame. Either with talking, or with action, or maybe both!