A Sign of Trouble: Ravens at Odds!

[Vio]

Hmm… It feels a lot more welcoming now that I’m not wearing a Justice coat… Thinking calmly about the last time he had come here, Marlus Caine stood upon the forward deck of the Salina, one hand softly guiding the wheel as a warming southerly wind pushed against the ship’s sails. Usually a sign of a coming storm front, such gales were not as ferocious as they might have been; the impact of the approaching land mass’ own climate forming a steady blanket that shunned windstorms and thunder alike in favour of damper, cooler weather. The Pikt Archipelago, in all its glory, now enveloped much of the traveller’s forward arc. Such a place was like a home away from home for him and, should it come to it, he certainly wasn’t afraid to set up shop somewhere secluded on one of the many islets that formed this vast network. Even though it had a Marine presence, the isles seemed of little threat to the rogue, reaching out with an aura of hospitality that only the people of this island could generate.

Deep violet locks flickered and whipped in the winds, much as the canvas of the sail whistled and hissed as it propelled the ship towards its next destination. This was a big place they had come to – Marlus, Merle Tali and fellow traveller Kenny Bacon – and certainly a place that could serve to be a home for them. It was a refuge where the World Navy would not think nor dare to scour for signs of traitors. But, despite him being so safe in the knowledge that this country could hide them from the law, the bowman in black was still plagued by an ounce of uncertainty that dwelt within the depths of his mind. The Piktish people might have seemed friendly folk, but tensions ran high between the numerous clans that divided them. The Marines had believed that their presence on the island cluster would help to keep such things as civil war at bay, but that had only worked so well.

Well, at least the weather’s a lot better than I thought… Managing to muster up a slight smile as the rays of the sun so easily pierced the sparse cover of soft grey cirrus, illuminating his visage as the beams danced across waves and deck alike, Caine took his eyes from isles ahead and sat himself down on one of the bench-like raise secured near the prow of the ship. It would be a little while longer before the Salina came close enough to the port of the town of Abundeen, but already could his hawkish hues spy the thick lining of trees that surrounded it. Up ahead, the mouth of the channel that led from open sea and into Loch Lomorar awaited them; an open gate of emerald and jet through which lay chill turquoise waters. Beyond that lay the expanse of docks that formed the bulk of the south-eastern city, but both winds and waves were calmly guiding them along the route they needed to take.

Come to think of it, what Axel gave us is enough to buy a decent ship… Second thoughts already pestering his conscience, there was little Marlus could do to deny his unsettled nature and conflicted mind. Sure, settling down in familiar territory where the chances of him getting caught were slim to none was a promising possibility, but he had long since proven to himself that he didn’t like being restrained or cooped up. Back when he had captained the Zophiel, a Battleship of the Navy, he had spent much of his time at sea. Very rarely did the vessel need to make landfall, meaning he could go wherever orders and the winds took him, and that seemed to have had an impact on his personality. He was not impatient, or at least that was how he believed himself to be, but the prospect of being stuck somewhere was making him nervous. A few days – maybe a couple of weeks – was fine, but for months or even years of his life? He struggled to imagine it.

“I suppose I should make up my mind as to what I want to do once Merle and Kenny are settled,” the archer whispered to himself, taking up a strip of half-fletched timber and starting to peel at it with a knife. Gently working the lumber, he continued to craft a fresh arrow for his bow, finding some sense of serenity and tranquillity in such a simple action. Perhaps, he wondered, it was because his bow and arrows offered him safety where he otherwise had none. Being able to defend oneself was becoming more and more of a necessity in this hectic world – even if the so-called ‘Golden Age of Pirates’ had come to an end, the world was not yet at peace, nor did he think it would ever be. The sun slipped behind a passing grey cloud, casting a shadow over his lowered form as he stripped another sliver of wood away from the arrow.

But… how do you ‘settle’ anywhere when you’re discriminated against, or when you possess the power of a Devil Fruit? As far as the people are concerned, the two of them are just ‘monsters’. Fishmen always seem to see us the same way, from what I know… Still stripping away the bark and smoothing the wood, the violet-haired vigilante focused upon his thoughts and ideals, trying to make sense of what it was that drove the people of the world to make such harsh and broad judgments. But the answers he came to were ones that he as a person did not like; it was either the fault of the people as a whole, or the fault of those in power. That power could only be the World Government and, as he’d seen, such an establishment was hardly noble of cause and privilege. Sabaody had seen to that. But whose side do you take when they’re all at each other’s throats…?

[Flame]

CHOP! The knife slammed itself down upon its target severing the head completely. Pulling the knife out of its target, she raised it up close to her face her eyes scanning it, it was slightly bloodied, though that was quickly sliding off the metal face of the blade. Her nose sniffed, once then twice affirming the blood on the knife. The smell illuminated that inner sense of hers and she found that her tongue was now sticking out of her mouth. Its tip moving ever closer to the metal blade itself. Don't. You'll have to wash the blade again before you continue. A voice from the back of her mind spoke to her like this. Her better judgement it would likely be called, perhaps her common sense, or maybe her humanity. Either way, it was what separated her and all other thinking beings from their more animalistic cousins.

Though sometimes I can't help but think that some people are no better than animals. The thought crossed through her mind along with the picture of some furry mammal. Merle paused before beginning to laugh where she stood. The amused thought of that rodent-like creature permeating through her mind causing her to momentarily lose focus on what she had been doing. It was a moment of intense laughter which subsided into a soft giggle as she went back to work. Placing the knife onto the counter top she reached for the severed head. Cupping the fish head carefully in both of her hands she lifted it off the cutting board and carried it over to the stewing pot to her right. For just some ship they took, she was surprisingly happy with the kitchen that was on the Salina. Pulling the lid off of the pot she allowed the scent of the stock she had been making steam out of it for a moment. Her nose grasping the scent and pulling it into the nostrils. Nodding happily to herself she gently slid the severed head into the pot.

Grabbing for a ladle she swirled the contents for a short while until she was satisfied that it was properly mixed before walking back to the headless marine animal upon her cutting board. It's head was gone but the rest of it was still open for use. Walking before it she wondered what she should do with it. The temptation to serve it raw was a real one, for that she needed .... she paused for a moment trying to remember how that was served. Soy sauce and ... pickled ginger was it? She tilted her head to the right unsure. Habitually she picked up the still bloody knife and played with it casually in her hand. Merle found herself unable to decide what she wanted to do with the rest of the fish. Either way she figured she would have to dress said fish, so she got to it. Effortlessly she went about her business, she disemboweled the fish and sliced it clean down its central ridge. Dividing it into two fillets she laid both, meat up to the air. Aaghhh nothings coming to mind. Her mind screamed as she reached both of her head and strung them through her head, not even concerned about where she was swinging her knife.

"Arrrgghhh whatever! I'll just cut it up and deal with it later." Her frustration got the better of her and she brought the knife in hand to bare on the fish. A quick series of movements had her blade dancing across the first half a fish. It followed ridges and lines, using bones as guidelines it slid along the fish delicately taking it apart. Until she happily found herself finished with the first half. The once put together fillet was now cut into what must have been a hundred different pieces. Merle looked happily at the slices of raw fish deciding that, that would likely be enough for the time being. The fish she had picked out happened to be rather large in the end. Leaving the ordered mess of fish where it was she attended to the other fish. Lifting it carefully in both of her hands she moved to place it in the cold storage.

It took only a few moments and soon she found herself back at the kitchen plating the chopped fish. She figured she'd do it raw this time, laying the slices one at a time in a circular fashion upon the large plate she had found. Taking a small dish along with it she poured some sauce into it, it was a dark brownish sauce, thin and liquid-y. She had found that it tasted pretty good when paired with raw fish. Its saltiness oddly went well with the fish, which had originally surprised her, but she had quickly accepted it, the taste was quite delectable. The only question left was whether she should call the others in to share in her cooking. Staring down at it she grabbed a slice and dipped it in the sauce. Dabbing it in their twice she picked it up and slid it down into her mouth. That salty taste was great, its flavors dissolving in her mouth was absolutely excellent. Merle smiled to herself, for the moment at least she was peaceful.

[Kami-Gaz]

All was quiet that morning on this ship as the misfit group were approaching the isles of Pikt, Marlus Caine the de-facto leader was stood watching the horizon like an eagle while Merle the fish woman was inside laughing to herself about something as she was preparing some food. Kenny on the other hand was sat against the mast staring up into the sky and swishing his sword like it was a brush painting the skies. The recent events that had taken place on Sedna were still taking their toll on the young man, effects that had rocked him to the core. Kenny had recently eaten a devil fruit, one he did not particularly want to have eaten. Now He is a weasel man, a man able to change his form from a human to a small rodent like creature and something in between. He still could not control his transformations and his body would shift from one to another seemingly without warning. It was something that was agitating the young pirate to no end.

As the painter slowly swished his blade around the curves of a cloud he let out a sigh, thoughts of trying to do something about his predicament were all over his mind and he could not stay focused on a single one of them for more than a few moments. “I want something that’s more useful…” He uttered to himself before pulling his arm down making his sword follow and drop against the deck of the ship with a gentle thud. A loud yawn followed at the young man stretched out his arms to the side and his legs forwards until his joints made a cracking noise. “I forgot how boring sea travel was…” He stated loud enough for Marlus to hear, it was safer than fighting for his life, but the thrill that gave him was far better.

“I’m going to grab a bite to eat? Want me to ask Merle to make you something?” He asked whilst standing up, using the mast to aid his task. His body was stiff from not doing anything and any bruises and bumps he had gained on Sedna had practically healed. A benefit of being a zoan fruit user, though Kenny didn’t know that. Once he was on his feet, he kneeled down to pick his sword up, and then as he stood up straight again he slipped the blade into its paint-splattered scabbard. This was the same sword that saw no use in his last fight. While that face removed the need to polish and clean it, it still made Kenny mad that he dirtied his hands so much, alas at the time it felt good.

As the wind finally hit the young man’s face he felt a cold shiver go down his spine and he himself shuddered. ‘Damn it’s cold.’ He thought to himself before heading to the door to the kitchen, at least in there it should be warm. Each footstep caused a creaking sound in some of the old wooden planks that made up the decking. Pushing the door open he would see Merle doing her thing and he stopped letting a sharp breeze fill the warm kitchen, a second later he realised what he was doing before hopping forwards and letting the door close behind him. “Hey Merle. What ya making?” He asked as he walked forwards to try and get a better look.

It was then that something happened, suddenly Kenny’s form shifted from the average sized human that he was up to be a large weasel man hybrid. His head hit the ceiling hard making a thudding noise that could probably be heard by anyone outside. “God damn it! Why now? It’s like this power knows when it can hurt me the most.” He grunted his kinder voice replaced by something more deeper that seemed to have a natural snarl to it. The orange furred monster stooped his head down and started to rub it with his right arm, this was a normal occurrence now, and it did not look like it was going to stop any time soon.

A second later he sighed and removed his hand before examining it quickly, his tattoo was still there, it was a part of the sleek fur that now covered his more muscular body. His bodies shape was all new too, his torso stretched to be longer and his neck was even longer too increasing his height by a lot, it was no wonder that he hit his head on the ceiling of the kitchen, he was so tall his neck had a natural stoop. “What’s for dinner?” He asked, since they left Merle was the one that spent most of her time in the kitchen so it was only natural for Kenny to assume she was some sort of cook or chef Marlus like to keep with him.

Then again, Kenny knew nothing about either of their pasts, they could have been notorious pirates from the grand line which most fish people seem to be or high ranking marines that went rouge. Anything was a possibility in Kenny’s eyes, he himself has seen quite a bit of stupidity even though he himself is pretty ridicules.

[Vio]

Mind running away with the thoughts that pestered him, Marlus Caine continued to fletch a fresh arrow shaft, the rhythm of the knife guiding him subconsciously through the process as he considered what was ahead of him. Closer the Salina drew to the mouth of Loch Lomorar, the passage wide and deep enough for a warship to slip through without worry of running aground. For such a small vessel, the geology of the Piktish landscape was intimidating, but nowhere near as frightening as the harshness of the Grand Line which it had been compared to many a time before. Indeed, the seasoned traveller knew the routes of the archipelago very well and even he could not reject that notion that it was akin to a small version of Paradise. Various lochs and estuaries joined to one another, dividing the islets of which the country was made, and twisting currents ran between them to guide ships across mysterious routes. Some lochs were still and tranquil, others turbulent, but all were massive bodies of unknown depth.

It seems the tide’s in… Loch Lomorar was one of the shallowest bodies, oddly enough, and as such experienced strange tidal patterns due to its connections – the waters could recede at any given moment, unlocking a strange ‘shoreline’ which formed natural dry docks converted by the people of Abundeen, and just a couple of days later it would flood back in again. As far as the bowman was aware, such strange phenomena had posed little problem to the people who lived there. It was testament to the hardiness of humanity – more specifically the hardiness of the Piktish – that they could thrive where others might struggle.

“I forgot how boring sea-travel was,” Kenny said aloud, snapping the sniper from his tumult of thought. The white-haired youth had been travelling with him and Merle since their departure from Sedna, but it was clear that he was something of an outcast, as much as Marlus disliked seeing him as such. He was an unknown quantity, possessed of what were now known to be the powers of the Tachi Tachi no Mi, but so far it seemed he struggled to control the transformations that Zoan class Devil Fruits granted to their consumers. That was to be expected and, unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done to help him. Marlus was no Esper; his abilities lay with archery and movement and observation, not with the supernatural gifts of the Sea Devil. Had he too possessed the powers of one of those accursed morsels, perhaps he could have taught the Weasel Man to control his power, but that was not to be. He had to learn the nuances – go through the trials and tribulations of his powers – of his own accord.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost to Abundeen. It’s a port town just inside of here,” Caine commented, gesturing to the thickly wooded cliffs of iron grey basalt before them. Just another two or three minutes and they’d be entering the loch, but that did not make Mister Bacon’s statement a false one. Long journeys upon the waves were thrilling to some, but others found them boring or strenuous. Some hated being cooped up on a ship for days (possibly weeks) on end, while others would rather never need make landfall. To each his own, so the saying went, and that mattered just as much when it came to travel as it did to anything else.

“Want me to ask Merle to make you something?” Kenny asked, heading inside to the small but surprisingly well-kitted kitchen of the Salina. The ship, though very small, was suited to spending a great deal of time out at sea. Fishing vessels were often the hardiest civilians could afford, designed for efficiency rather than appeal. While three was starting to stretch the ability of the salmon-headed vessel, it was by no means an uncomfortable way of crossing the North Blue.

“No, thank you, Kenny,” the bowman in black replied. Passing up the opportunity of a meal simply because he wasn’t feeling hungry, he instead continued to carve away at the wood, the shaft now smooth and lengthy as an arrow’s body should be. Almost done he was, now working to round off the would-be projectile to improve its aerodynamics, as well as aiming to sharpen the tip so he could secure a head to it. Feathers would make for ideal flights, as was typical of a weapon as ancient and traditional as a longbow, and if there was one thing he liked to maintain, it was his weapon of choice. A gift from his homeland, Mørk Vinge itself was a strange example of a bow, but one that had proven its usefulness and ability time and time again in the hands of Mister Caine. The closest thing he had to pride and joy, the ebon artefact had been carved from the lumber of a tree that had fallen of old age; a majestic dryad – centuries old – that had finally succumbed to time itself. It was hard to believe the wood was so old when he held the bow, but it had stood the test of time and continued to do so long after the tree itself had taken its last breath.

Thud!

Huh? Oh, I bet he transformed again, didn’t he… The sound of the ship’s timbers being struck by something hard but light reaching his ears, hawkish hues directed themselves to the Salina’s cabin as the thoughtful fletcher identified the most obvious cause. Kenny’s transformations were unpredictable, to say the least, which he thought quite strange. Then he realised something; just a little while earlier, the painter had whispered something about wanting something more useful. Such words had been carried on the winds, scattered into silent dust, but not before passing the ears of the archer himself. Even when lost in his state of confusion and reminiscence, his ears were somewhat attune to the environment around him, allowing him to pick up those words even if he had not actually listened to them at the time. It explained a lot, however, from so little. Even if it was just a hunch about the mysterious mechanics of Akuma no Mi, perhaps one’s subconscious mind could have a great impact of those powers which focused on transformation? The so-called ‘invincible’ Logia did such a thing, bodies shifting to become essentially intangible when the threat of harm came to them. Maybe Kenny’s own power was reacting to his want for usefulness? A funny thought it was to believe that a Devil Fruit’s power was actually a conscious being that experienced feelings and emotions…

[Flame]

Picking up the next slice of fish Merle smiled, dabbing it lazily into the dark sauce before pulling it up toward her face. The fish as it precariously hung from the pinch of her fingers began to pool the sauce which lay upon it like a sheath near the bottom. Gravity pulled it down, which only meant Merle had to complete her little opera with a little more haste than she was currently providing. It was slow and a little dangerous for the droplets of sauce gathering at the bottom-most point of the slice. This was her guilty pleasure, playing with her food, she did it on the hunt and she was doing it now.

Pulling it straight over her head she allowed a drop of the black sauce drip off and splash onto the top of her outstretched tongue. It was then that she heard a creak. The creak that could really mean only one thing, someone was entering the kitchen. She immediately let go f the piece of fish. It slapped itself upon her tongue and she slipped it as quickly as possible down her throat. No chewing required, or perhaps she should have as she stopped for a moment as the slick piece of meat negotiated her throat. Beside where she stood she could see the wooden door swing open. He stood there watching her for a moment, and she glanced back at him momentarily wondering what he was doing standing in the doorway.

Taking her view away from him she lightly bopped her chest with her own fist twice. She tried to aid the food in dropping down her throat. A little burst of air pushed itself back upwards and she as discretely as possible let the air out making as little sound as she could manage. That of course was easy to do as at the same time Kenny spoke to her. His voice was casual, curious what she was making. She paused and glanced back over at Kenny wondering if he couldn't figure out that she wasn't actually cooking at the moment. With the food plated in front of her she had figured such an observation would be easy to make or obvious. Determined to make a spunky response she paused for a moment but her time passed quickly.

THUD!

The sudden sound brought her out of her thoughts once again to see a large furry humanoid standing in front of her where Kenny used to be. It took her a second to realize exactly what had happened, though the cursing from Kenny did help her along. He was rubbing his head as if it he hit it against something, though given his size it didn't seem the farthest thing in the world that he slammed it into the ceiling. Merle brought her hand to her mouth, covering it to try and stifle the laughter that so quickly came upon her. His white hair had turned orange and he had grown quite large. It was quite amusing what was happening to him. While Merle had somewhat gotten used to his presence on the ship, she still did not particularly like Kenny. He did not rub her the right way and thus seeing him hurt himself in such a moronic way was quite amusing. It was a perfect scene going on in front of her and she found her body fighting her will to impede her laughter until she could hold it in no more.

Her hand left her mouth and she burst out laughing. "Heee Heee Heeee" Merle giggled to herself as Kenny planted the question of what was for dinner. Her laughing stopped and she stared blankly at him for a moment. Perhaps he really was blind as a bat. Blinking once and then twice, she glanced down at the plate of food sitting before her. This seemed the perfect way to rub it in his face a little, the plan sounded perfect in her head. "What those animal senses doing nothing for you? Did you lose your ability to see by doing that?" Merle pressed her questions at him as she reached for another slice of the fish fillet. Picking a piece up she glanced away from him only momentarily so she could properly dip it into the dark sauce. Then bringing her gaze back to Kenny, she flashed him a cocky smile and put the fish in her mouth.

Not content with that alone Merle continued, she was already rather pleased at herself for the teasing she had already done. Chewing and then downing it she paused to properly get it down before she made her next set of thinly veiled insults. "There's the problem, devil fruit has drained your ability to think, leaving you no better than an animal. Asking questions you should already know the answers to." She paused to let it settle in before she began to laugh, amused already by her own words. Then shrugging as best she could while in the middle of laughter, she made one last comment. "Well I guess that's okay. Hehe, since you've proven yourself a -hehehe- pet I guess I've got some food for you. Just do as all pets do ... beg" She made the last point with emphasis. Before bursting out into a body convulsing laugh as she was no longer able to contain herself given how much she had tickled her own funny bone.

[Kami-Gaz]

The large weasel man frowned as he was giggled at, Merle knew full well that he could not control his devil fruit power, he was trying to be nice and engage in some small talk, but being laughed at for that as well ticked the painter off. With the end of the giggling came a jab at his new powers, and how it was affecting him. His frown only grew as a low growl rumbled in his throat. His fists would clench and the sharp claws would dig into his hand causing it to bleed. ‘Is she really doing this again? Is she really taking the mick about these powers again?!’ He watched as she picked up the fish fillet and dipped it into the sauce, still biting his tongue and not lashing out at her. Kenny was trying his hardest and had been since he group left Sedna to keep on everyone’s good sides, however it seemed like he was never on Merle’s good side.

The teasing continued after she finished that small piece of fish, they cut him pretty deep, the fact that he was trying to be nice and start a conversation was being insulted made the instincts inside him want to pull his sword out and slash at her. Though that would make the situation worse with a fight, or Marlus might get involved, which the painter did not want. “I was-” He was cut off by the next and last verbal volley.

"Well I guess that's okay. Hehe, since you've proven yourself a -hehehe- pet I guess I've got some food for you. Just do as all pets do ... beg"

‘A pet, A PET?!’ This was too far for Kenny, something that he did not want to be associated with, a human pet, a slave. These were things he hated the most and being called one for no good reason made his blood boil. “NO! I am done. I was trying to be nice, trying to start a conversation! But no. Apparently you are just like the rest of them!” He retorted, narrowing his eyes on her neck, as if he was aiming for the kill. He grabbed at his sword and snarled at her, clearly losing his temper and control made her animal analogy of him truer. “I am no pet, I do not beg.” He growled as he pulled his sword from its scabbard and gripped it tightly.

“I guess to some one of your kind all humans should be pets, weak little slaves that you can just dispose of when they aren’t useful. I thought you were different, you helped Axel, you did something that no fish brained monster like you would do, you helped normal people. I thought you were different because of that!” He snarled and took a step forwards his weight making the floor boards creak and the anger making heat radiate from his body. “But no, you’re just like the others. A big scary monster that thinks they are better than everyone else! Well you’re not; you’re just an ass that belongs at the bottom of the sea and out of everyone’s way!”

After his little rant he grunted and started to pant, his eyes still on her neck, the kill spot. He did feel a little better now that he had finally snapped back at her, though there were a few words in there he would regret saying later. The heat of the moment was something Kenny never coped with well, and this time was just an example of that. With the feeling of his anger leaving him something else happened his for shifted yet again. He shifted from the large angry beast man hybrid down to being a tiny clothed rodent. The sword dropped to the floor with the point sticking in and the handle poking out and a look of panic came into the weasels eyes.

“Oh crap I’m small again!” He shouted with his little voice, to the painter everything grew, even the fish woman he had just hurled racist remarks too. This was not going to end well and he knew it, regret filled his small body.

[Flame]

The returning response from Kenny was a whirlwind of insults. So much so that it stymied the laughter that had only moments before been pouring our of Merle's mouth at her set of 'little' prods and teases. His voice quickly rose in its heat as it seemed at the very least he was not happy with her at one bit. In the first instance of it she held herself to take it without response. A few prods and teasing-s between ship-acquaintances was nothing big, and Merle could understand that. That was not enough to set her off unlike Kenny it seemed.

But as she glanced at his hand moving to his sword she suddenly understood that this might be something different. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and she slowly began to edge herself away from the food preparation areas of the kitchen and more out into the open area behind the counter. It was then that the whole layer of Kenny's insults struck her. These were not on the same level as what she had said. No, they were an insult to her character, and partially to her race in general. The brevity of it all laid upon her, she felt her heartbeat start to rise. Blood rushed to her head and she was enraged by it all. The comment about fishmen being the slave drivers, especially riled her up. To hear that from a human, when it was their race that took in so many fishfolk to work as slaves and laborers. Who was he to talk?

Unlike Kenny, Merle's rage was silent. Instead she advanced on the human one step at a time closing the distance. Her fingers flexed in and out from an open hand to a fist as the anger built up inside her. It was then that it happened, the weasel-hybrid Kenny morphed once again. His body shrunk in size and Merle's line of sight followed him down until he stood there, no more than an animal before its master. Kenny had changed into his weasel form and Merle standing before him presented him with a wicked smile. His sword clattered to the floor leaving Kenny defenseless before the enraged Merle. As his squeaky voice came up to meet her she returned a cocky smile. "Well little slave, little pet, lets see you beg." Her voice was vehement as she quickly scooped up the little ferret. Wrapping her hand around his neck he held him by it to remove any chance of escape.

Merle of course had no thought of actually letting him go for his last comments. She was too consumed with her own annoyance and rage at him to think of doing that. Turning the rodent to face her she held him at arms length and just glared. It was then that an idea popped into her head. "If you want to be a slave fine, then I suppose I'll treat you like one." Merle said as she walked towards the door to the kitchen. She was laughing as she did. Not her usual cheery happy giggles but a more throaty laughter. It had a darkness to it.

Walking with a pace she pushed open the kitchen door and stepped out onto the deck. Sunlight piercing through the clouds illuminated the scene that was playing out at this very moment. A nice wind blew across her blue hair causing it to flow to the side a bit. With her free hand she brushed it aside and looked out into the open seas. "If the stories I've heard are right, most slave drivers prefer to see their slaves dance." Merle started vaguely into a short story. There was a nonchalance in her speaking and she continued coolly. "Or so are the stories of the slaves of Mariejois." Her voice came to a sudden stop at the name of that dreaded place upon the Red Line. "Me, I'm not so cruel you see. I prefer to see that mine ... swim." She ended on a devilishly sweet note.

With the arm that she held Kenny in she swung it back behind her. If her objective had not been obvious before it must have been now. Laying in with some of her strength her arm rocketed forward. At the peak of the swing she let go of the rodent in hand. His body was sent flying overboard, he was light so she didn't put in all of her force. He still had to swim back anyways, her mind had completely forgotten that Devil Fruit Users could not do the one thing she was asking him to. For a few moments she simply watched the small ferret shoot away from her. When she was happy enough with the result she turned away, wiping her hands against each other she nodded to herself, a job well done.

[Vio]

Though normally astute and alert about that which went on around him, it could not be said that times did not exist where Marlus Caine let his mind wander its chosen course. Yes, the constant turmoil of uncertainty about right and wrong would always force its ghostly shadow upon the depths of his thoughts, but for now his calm and collected disposition was accurately reflecting the tranquility of his innermost thoughts. Still shaping the arrow in his hands, the fletcher’s light green eyes maintained an unearthly focus upon his craftsmanship, but seemed glazed over with distance as he recollected memories of more peaceful times prior to his time served on Sabaody. Indeed, even prior to his enlistment in the World Navy, the man himself had lived and loved the peace of his youth. Lyneel’s beautiful mix of open glades and wooded thickets, interspersed with the magnificent towns of the kingdom; a place he once called home, but had not returned to for so long.

I’m never going to go back there again, he told himself silently but sternly, the worries of his brand as a traitor coming to the forefront of his thoughts. There was no escaping the present or the avoiding future, though the past could often be left behind with ease. Such dark and almost painful recognition gave Caine quite the wake-up call, snapping him back to reality and just in time as well. The door of the Salina’s cabin had been pushed open, the familiar Silvery hue of Gyojin skin and turquoise hair moving briskly from within to without as she spoke quiet words. Still reeling from realisation that a return to Lyneel could do more harm than good to those whom he loved, the speech of Miss Tali slipped past Marlus’ ears without so much as an audible whisper of what was to come.

Swim? What did she just throw…? Partial glare from the sun transforming the particular projectile into naught but a silhouette, the archer’s eyes failed to register what it was that the Fishwoman had just tossed overboard, only catching the slightest glimpse of something small and slender as it wheeled over the edge of the small fishing boat. He halted his own motions, hands no longer working the arrow’s shape as they sat still and independent, giving himself just a few long and awkward seconds to make sense of the scene he had just witnessed. Merle was a cook of decent calibre, so it was not hard to believe that she had just disposed of something such as a fish head or similar waste that the creatures of the deep would make far better use of than them. Certainly, his mind almost passed up the act entirely, until his mind finally made sense of the isolated murmurings.

“Slaves… Mariejois… Swim…” These were just a few choice words that had emerged from the Flying Fish woman’s lips with a certain energy, or lack thereof, that the rest of her speech had seemingly lacked. Bitterness, coldness, devilishness; traits one rarely used when speaking to little more than a dead fish, and certainly the words themselves made no sense in that context. But they didn’t need to. Already had Marlus loosed his grip upon knife and arrow, dropping them onto the deck as he pushed himself forwards, a cold understanding seizing the entirety of his form as a subtle teaser of what he was about to do. Pulling the black tunic over his head and letting it flop to the floor in his wake, revealing the entirety of the pale green, long-sleeved tee shirt he wore beneath, he closed in on the edge of the ship from which Merle had thrown the offending object. Little did he know that such a descriptor was surprisingly accurate given the circumstances, but that mattered little to him as he slammed one foot upon the railing and pushed himself over into a dive.

Cold… The seas of the north were bitter and harsh upon his flesh, biting into him like a school of hungry piranha the moment his form hit the water. At times like these, he could have wished her too possessed the adaptive physiology of Fishmen and Merfolk, whose bodies resisted such pressures and temperatures with startling ease. But whilst the ability to swim like a fish and even to breathe like one would have been useful tools at this point in time, the entirety of his conscience and consciousness were dominated by one thought and one thought alone. There was a Weasel that needed rescuing, lest it drown in the increasingly icy waters of the Pikt Archipelago’s surrounding sea.

Where are you…? The saline chill of the blue stung the bowman’s eyes and nose and lips as he kicked down deeper and deeper, searching for what was essentially going to be a needle in a haystack. An animal just a matter of inches long was not easy to find in such a vast, unforgiving territory, but luck would have it that the worries of the Weasel being sucked into the depths were somewhat diminished as a strange but distinctive shape came into view. It was Kenny, or at least some intermediate state of the Zoan user’s ability, drifting gently into the abyss as his body hung immobile. His shape was no longer completely that of the animal he could transform into, but rather the size of a domestic cat and possessing a slightly more human physique to it. For the Zoan, shifting shapes was not an immediate process, though the most experienced of ability users could do so in less than a second. With the powers of the Tachi Tachi no Mi waning from his catatonic state, so too was the influence of his transformation.

I’ve got you. Don’t worry, Marlus muttered mentally, wrapping his arms around the white Weasel and pulling it up onto his shoulder. With that achieved, his lungs were beginning to scream at him; the rush of adrenaline he was experiencing was churning through his body’s own resources at a rate of knots, steadily starving him of the chest-full of oxygen he had gulped down just moments before he had taken the plunge. Turning around, one hand keeping Kenny supported, he started to kick towards the surface, cupping at the water with his one free hand in a bid to accelerate his ascent. A curious seal swam past at a lazy pace – a tantalising tale of how poorly disadvantaged the human race was when compared to those suited to the three-dimensional environs of the deep. But his Rokushiki training had given him one thing, and that was the speed and strength of leg to power through the water…

[Kami-Gaz]

Things moved rather fast, everything after becoming a small weasel that could barely shout for help was a blur to the painter. When the hand scooped hip up from the floor and gripped around him, tightly Kenny’s heartbeat shot through the roof, fear and adrenaline were coursing through his little system and he could not do anything to get free, he was not strong enough nor was he big enough to resist the fish woman who was heading to the door. The words that he managed to take in were jumbled and messy and what he could understand made his fears become reality. “Swim.” Was the most prominent one in his mind, could he swim? No, he had eaten a devil fruit swimming was the last thing he could do. ‘Help… I need help!’ his thoughts screamed out, but the words just would not come to his little mouth.

“H- HElF-” He tried to shout out as the fish woman’s arm was pulled back and him along with it, he was upside down now and could not get any words to escape his squeezed small body, and what he did manage to utter was nothing more than a squeak. Then the next thing Kenny knew was he was flying through the air and travelling quite the distance away from the small fishing ship that the group were using as transport. The only upside was he was not being crushed in a fish woman’s hands now and had some freedom to move, and to shout out for help. “HELP! MARLUS HELP! PLEASE! I DON’T THINK I CAN SWI-” There was a splash, the small rodent had hit the water and begun to sink.

‘Is this it? I am dead… I can’t move and it’s cold.’ Kenny started to think as his body grew heavy and his eyes started to shut themselves. Consciousness was drifting away from him and thoughts of his sister filled his head. ‘Sorry Ellie… I guess I just can’t do it… I threw a bad dice and lost the winnings.’ The thought gave him the energy to try to swim again but as hard as he tried his little legs just would not move. Then the small weasel blacked out, slowly sinking as his body shifted back towards his human form.

The change was slow and in the time it took for Marlus to get to him Kenny was still small, about the size of a house cat, and as he was pulled back and thrown over the archers shoulder, his size increased little by little. As they got to the surface he was the size of a large dog, his orange fur was all but gone now and his bodies shape was looking more human, save for his teeth being sharp, his jaw protruding a bit and his hands and feet looking like paws.

As Kenny was thrown back onto the deck, he started coughing from the impact, making the small amount of water that was in his tiny Weasel lungs spurt out and onto the wood. The still knocked out Kenny would curl up into a ball and shiver as his body returned to being the size of a human. This was an experience that would stick with the painter for a long time to come, and it was affecting the dreams he was having in his unconscious state.

The images that were running though Kenny’s head were of him being plunged into the water again and again by all the people he feels he let down and wronged, most of which did it with malice and hate as they told them how he had wronged them. The last one to throw him into the dark cold waters was his own sister, telling him he did not keep his promise. As he hit the water in his dream he bolted upright on the ship and looked around to see what was going on and to see he was alive. “I… I messed up.” He muttered in admittance to himself and to the dreams that he had.

He did not know how long he was asleep it must have only been moments, but that is the thing with dreams, they pervert ones sense of time so the dreams that were in his head that lasted hours would only last mere seconds in the real world where his body was shaking due to being both wet and cold. A quirk of his new power meant his normal human body would feel the cold in a more real way like a weasel would.

[Flame]

Satisfied with her work Merle strutted back to the kitchen. There was a fair bit of pride about her, some spunky-ness as well, as she made her way. It was then that she heard it, the faint sounds of splashing water, the sound of one entering the water. But it was much too loud, much too close to be from her work. She knew this all too well, and she came to pause where she stood. Uncertain now of what it could be, or more unwilling to admit who it had to be. Who else could it be, it must have been none other than Marlus, there was no one else within hundreds of yards of the ship that could have made such a sound. He had dove into the water, but why? Well why else she supposed, to go help Kenny. Merle sighed, I guess that's to be expected, that side being taken. Humans will be humans.

Hot blood pulsed through her body as it had already been doing. Heat overwhelmed her face and she maintained her inability to consider everything. Instead she thought selfishly and with not for other thoughts. She was disappointed. Perhaps she had figured him different, that he would not have acted on such speedy gut reactions. To go to save someone who was in no need of saving, or was worth getting wet for in the first place. Raising her hand to her face she brought fingers forth and pinched the bridge of her nose. This was how it was to be wasn't it, Do I really want to stick around for this. The question echoed in Merle's head as she stood before the kitchen door. The blatant choice to immediately go help the human when he, Kenny that was, obviously did not need help. She had thought perhaps she had gotten away from that when she had stuck around with Marlus, and after all she had seen of him. But at this very moment she could see that that was wishful thinking.

Her hand balled itself into a fist, if this was truly the case, then she no longer wished to be upon this ship with these people. She dealt with this enough when she came up to the humans towns and villages to do her business, she did not need this on a daily basis. Her mind was made, "I'll leave." Her voice echoed unnecessarily to the empty ship as she shoved in the kitchen door. She needed only what was hers, picking up the empty bag which had once held her cooking supplies she refilled it. Taking only that which was specifically hers she raided the kitchen she had previously stocked. Knives, jars of spices, oils, sauces, and a handful of cooking utensils such as spatulas and ladles were haphazardly tossed into the bag. The food itself she did not take, she was a hunter by trade she could easily get more for herself. She would leave them with something so that the two idiots didn't starve. Throwing the bag over her shoulder she made her way out of the kitchen and towards her room.

Fast and messy was the name of the game as she slammed her way through doorways. The somewhat excessive strength of the fishwoman was perhaps overkill here. She left splinters and cracks in her path as she forcibly opened the door to her room. Noting the few things that were left in disarray upon a side table she scooped them up without much more than a second look. Grabbing her trusty harpoon she swung it momentarily about the room. She left it in no better than she had entered it, where some parts were cleaner others were much worse. But she didn't care, this was her home no longer, slamming the door shut behind her she tramped through the cabin pausing for a moment as she walked by Marlus' room. It was only for a moment but she glanced at the door as it sat there, it suddenly felt unwelcoming to look at. Merle had yet to calm down and suddenly felt a bit of rage well up within her. "You were supposed to be different." She said with a spiteful regret to the personified door before her. Her fist slammed into the innocent door leaving a fist-shaped dent in its wooden body.

Then she left, climbing the stairs up onto the deck and emerging into the cold air of the North Blue. It felt so unfriendly at this moment and as she glanced overboard at the splashing figures of Marlus and Kenny as they swam back to the ship. Merle steeled herself for what was about to happen. Moving across the deck to the opposite side of the ship that the pair of humans were coming from she glanced overboard at the sea. Thankful that her leg was now fully healed she launched herself over the side of the ship. Bag hung over her shoulder she and it fell towards those friendlier depths. Seamlessly her streamlined body slid into the water, its cold embrace was comforting in these moments of pain. She was soon joined by her bag, whose impact upon the surface was not as clean as her own. Hefting her harpoon in hand and positioning the bag back in its rightful place she turned only momentarily. Through the ocean water she could make out the figures of Marlus and Kenny on the other side of the ship. The hull of the ship as well she could see. They filled her with annoyance, with rage, even the cool waters of the North Blue could not wash away her hot attitude at the present.

Twisting in the water she turned about, in the end she still felt more at home in the waters where she was most agile. For a moment she was tempted to throw a water bullet at the pair struggling in the waters not so far away from her. But she didn't, in the end they could not help their human nature, she just couldn't stand that they couldn't. Her feet immediately went to work, kicking in a relaxing beat Merle swam off. Cutting through the water like an arrow she accelerated away from them. They who would be now known as her past.

[Vio]

Little by little, Kenny Bacon’s physical form expanded as the throes of transformation were steadily undone by rising weakness. The waters of the Piktish Sea were draining the Weasel Zoan of strength and stability at a rate of knots, furthering the weight of the burden that the swordsman posed to his saviour’s shoulders. Each kick required a little more effort than the last, but soon enough did Marlus Caine break the frigid surface of the salty sea. By the time he’d clambered over the railing of the Salina, Kenny’s form was almost entirely human again, though still shifting through the final transformations of his paw-like extremities. Salty waters were passively coughed up by both men, their throats and noses stinging, but the good news was that they were both alive and well – if sodden and chilled.

What did she think she was doing…!? A clashing cocktail of rage and remorse resonated with the archer’s soul as he ran through the basic rigours of resuscitation; the application of pressure on the diaphragm to force exhalation sent a salty spurt of water out from the nostrils of the now entirely human Mister Bacon, and it seemed that little more effort would be needed as the young man’s breathing quickly came back to him. Sure, he had almost drowned, but his rescue had been swift enough. Safe in the knowledge that Kenny was breathing again, but still aware that the bitter chills were doing neither of them any good, Marlus darted below decks to fetch some towels. The archipelago was far to the north and, while its natural climate was surprisingly mild when compared to other such isles, there was no denying the risk of hypothermia.

She must’ve left the ship… The solemn silence of the Salina as it crawled across the waves and into the mouth of Loch Lomorar was stifling, but the lack of laughter and energy that was usually present alongside Merle Tali had long since left them behind. Whatever had taken place, it had not been beneficial to either body or mind, forcing the Flying Fish Gyojin’s decision to abandon the two men with whom she had been travelling. The kitchen was as she had left it, but the few doors that had been the victims of her rage were not so lucky; wood had been splintered by the sheer strength she possessed, but at least she had not gone out of her way to inflict serious harm upon the vessel in question. All of her belongings, however, were gone. There was no sign of Miss Tali, save for the startled swordsman who now sat up upon the forward deck as Marlus returned.

“I messed up,” were the words he muttered as he did so.

“Here,” Marlus said quietly, dropping a thick towel onto the Esper’s lap before unbundling his own. He too was shivering, but was doing a far greater job than Kenny of keeping himself stable despite the bite of wintry cold. For a moment, his mind dwelt upon the events of the very recent past – what had gone on between the two to drive the Fishwoman to such an extreme action? No matter how he looked at it, the possibility of her doing such a thing without serious provocation was absent. Even if they knew each other very little as a whole, the bowman in black knew the girl well enough already to understand that she was a far cry from the Gyojin pirate crews that roamed the oceans. The common goal that such crews shared was to do with ‘Fishman Supremacy’, but it was impossible for the traitor to believe that all were driven by the same thing – least of all, Merle.

Though his face – slightly reddened by the rawness of icy waters as he dried himself off – did not show it, there was no denying it. He was angered, upset, but most of all concerned about what had just transpired. He wanted to know the answers.

“What was all that about?” Caine asked, drying his dark violet locks as he leaned against the outer wall of the sailboat’s cabin. There was a distinct lack of compassion in his voice, his intonations seeming distant as he questioned the apparent victim of this crime. It was one of those strange times when he both wanted to know – to understand and empathise with the parties involved – and not to know. But even then, knowing was only half the battle; the greatest struggle was trying to make right the wrongs that had been done. It was not as if he could just turn back time and completely prevent it all from happening, nor was it possible for him to sit down and have a talk with both parties when one of them was no longer present. Even if Kenny was completely honest in his reply, would it matter? It was not up to him to decide who was right and who was wrong in this scenario; it was up to those immediately involved to make sense of their actions and do the right thing.

“Well, we’re almost at Abundeen,” he added on, hawkish hues taking in the familiar ‘forest’ of ships’ masts that decorated an expanse of town upon the banks of the loch. The waters were suddenly a lot swifter, but also far calmer and more stable than those of the mouth of the body, and nature’s creations drew the vessel in towards their port of call. A sprawling town whose assortment of buildings lined Lomorar’s shoreline, numerous piers stretched out towards the middle of the lake; vessels of all shapes and sizes were anchored and moored, resting either for leisure or for trade, or even being freshly built by the craftsmen and women whose skills earned the town its fame in the North Blue. A town of abundant trades housing some of the north’s best shipwrights and carpenters, if there ever was a city here to praise for its industriousness, Abundeen was it. Economically, it probably had the best status of all of Pikt’s settlements – even the archipelago’s capital city did not share such prestige in the realm of business.

“It’s up to you what you do now, Kenny,” Marlus commented, stepping up to the helm and adjusting the Salina’s heading to bring them into the nearest available mooring spot. “Just do me a favour, alright? Do the right thing…”

SPOILER: Click to show

{*OOC*}

(3b003b)
Kenny Bacon (990099)

[/ul][/spoiler][/font][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[Kami-Gaz]

Cold, why was it always so cold? The shivering that was emanating from the soaked human was intense, it only grew worse as the young man let his mind wander to his past and thoughts about his sister. These were quickly swept away as Marlus dropped a towel onto his lap and in an instant the painter snapped it up and started to pat areas of his body dry. ‘This shirt needs to come off; it’s wet… and cold…. Wait is Marlus speaking?’ Kenny’s eyes wandered to meet the archers before they wandered off to the icy waters he was in naught but moments ago. Kenny dropped his towel to the side before tugging at his black and white patterned shirt, pulling it up and over his head as fast as he could with his shaky blue with the cold hands.

Once the shirt was on the floor and Kenny’s pale chest that was dotted with different tattoos was shown he snatched the towel back up and covered his body as best he could. “I-I snapped at her…” He uttered with a slight stutter, the cold was getting to him fairly badly. “She was poking fun and I just snapped back… I couldn’t take it anymore.” The painter said with honesty, what was the point in lying, the only thing Kenny did wrong was get carried away by his emotions and say things that he did not truly feel.

The reply Kenny got to his statement was kind of expected, dry land seemed more welcoming than ever to the young devil cursed pirate. ‘I’m never touching the sea again.’ He thought whilst he shakily clutched the towel and tugged it closer to his body. It was starting to take effect but he would have to change the rest of his clothes to get the warmth he wanted quickly. “I’m going to change…” The shaking painter said as he grabbed his soaked shirt and stood up, his knees shaking as he did. This entire scene was not what he wanted, ever. Even when he had not eaten the devil fruit he was not good with cold climates, he himself coming from a desert island.

As he moved into the warmth of the inside of the ship Kenny heard Marlus speak, promise him? Do the right thing? Thoughts flashed through his head and before the door closed fully he looked up to the ever watchful archer. “I’ll do my best… but the right thing here takes two people…” It was not just him that needed to apologise, the fish woman who had thrown him overboard had some words of apology to state as well. As he closed to door the young painter would kick his paint splattered and waterlogged shoes off and towards the ships oven, the plan of using that to dry them quickly had formed in his head. However, that was to be carried out later, now the painter had to properly dry his wet body and change into some clean clothes.

Quickly running to the back of the ship Kenny made it to where Merle had gone on her little rampage and a feeling of guilt ran through his stomach, sure she had hurt him, but what he said was unforgivable. What he had said to get this reaction from her was from a younger more angry Kenny who was running away from his problems, and not trying to face them as he is now. “She really ran…” He mumbled before pushing his door open and pulling the rest of his clothes off before thoroughly drying himself with the towel, his skin was still a pale blue as he pulled on a fresh black and white striped shirt and blue trousers but at least now he was dry and somewhere relatively warm.

‘I’ll make it up to her… somehow…’ Kenny bacon thought as he added another name to his mental list of people that he had to help, ‘Merle, the fish woman who I over reacted too…’ He thought before walking back to the kitchen to carry out his footwear drying plan, in an oven that was already on preheat. “Still… throwing me overboard… ” The Ashen haired young man mumbled to himself before opening the door and placing his slogging wet shoes into it. “I still owe her for that.” He said not liking his new fear of vast bodies of water…

[Flame]

Merle swam, her eyes looking purely forward. She knew that she might question her decision if she began looking back. Already she was beginning to regret what she had done. Merle bit her lip, it was not her way to regret her decisions, she disliked it greatly. It was your decision, accept it! The voice in the back of her head prodded her for her moments of weakness. She rolled her eyes at her own subconscious' retort to herself. Which caused her to smile, which caused her to giggle, which in turn left her laughing. The same uncontrollable laughter as she had once found so common to come out of her mouth. It was a comforting feeling to have as she swam away from them. Or semi-comforting as her body convulsed, from the full force of the laughter which began to consume her.

In her laughter she let go of her things, her body twisting and turning in its amusement was surely a sign of something. It took her a moment, or ten, but as Merle finally got a hold of herself she had a wide grin on her face. She was feeling much more like herself, moving to a wipe a tear from her eye, her hand rose up towards her face. Merle paused glancing at the hand as it made such a instinctive move. "Exactly what tear is going to appear when I'm in the ocean?" Merle acted as the tsukkomi to her own boke. It was an amusing comment which brought her into another fit of laughter. As her chest heaved from the pain of laughing she reached around herself and grabbed her sides. Her body tensed and softened off and on as muscles flexed themselves with her movements. As she gradually gained control of her body once more Merle realized that she had left her stuff a drift. Her eyes darting around she swiftly found her belongings floating down into the deeps. With ease she dived down after them scooping them up from the turquoise waters and returning them to their respective places over her should and in her hand.

Turning her heading forward Merle began to swim once more. Her golden eyes piercing through the ocean she looked onward toward what came next.

---

~Some Time Later~

Glancing ahead the looming undersea cliff made it fairly obvious what was coming up before her. The rapidly rising sea-floor in front of her was the clear sign of an island. She smiled one of her usually large smiles. Hopefully there would be a town nearby, since Marlus had been at the wheel back when she was with ... those people. Merle was not completely sure where she had landed herself. She needed a position on a map to reorient herself and get her back on track. As she swam toward the rising ground she passed over the shelf and into the shallows. Her speed slowed and like a crocodile or animal of the like she slowly surfaced her face above the water. Merle's turquoise hair blending in perfectly with the sea's surface she glanced out toward the island rising up before her. Her eyes scanning the shoreline, what must have been thick green forests rose up from the beaches. A sight she'd have probably seen ahead of time if she had popped her head above water. Nothing, along the shore in front of her she noted no settlements sitting upon the water's edge. Unfortunate, well perhaps, she swam closer still gaining a better view of the beaches directly before her.

With no signs of life apart from the leaves on the trees she began to turn, she would make her way beside the shore looking for civilization. She could only assume that there would be some humans or something here. Surely she figured that would be the case. As she turned her eyes laid themselves upon a figure moving along the shoreline at a decent pace. Whatever it was, it moved slowly, she smiled, perhaps this was her lucky break. Putting her feet to work Merle showed the reason that she was one of the fastest in the sea. Her fins gliding along the surface of the shallows she quickly spurted through the waters toward that thing in the distance.

SPOILER: Click to show

Bleh short post, sorry I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to find the mermaids in the Loch, i'm thinking gettign caught up in one of the currents mentioned in the island description and have it pull her into the loch where the mermaids are being attacked.

[Vio]

“I’ll do my best… but the right thing here takes two people,” Kenny replied, surprisingly wise and mature words emerging from his lips. Recognising this, Marlus Caine simply nodded. Words would do little to mend the tears that had manifested in the irregular cut of the cloth to which he had been sewn, and so silence was the better option. Nothing he could do would have any beneficial effect right now, save for leaving them to solve their dispute as was necessary – the least he could do was offer some advice and insight where possible, but by no now such things seemed pointless trivia. Instead, as the Salina steadily approached the docks of Abundeen’s port, he focused on the necessities of furling the sails and mooring the relatively small sailboat. Just as he remembered, there were men on hand to assist with the process; friendly faces accepting the line as he tossed it and securing it to the bollard, thus anchoring the boat.

I guess Pikt hasn’t changed all that much since I left… Though the bowman in black felt anything but safe when the threat of being chased down by the Marines was still high, he at least felt comfort in being in a place like this. The Pikt Archipelago had a favourable mix of energy and excitement and peace and tranquillity, bringing strange warmth to an otherwise chill climatic region of the globe. There was something nice about being secluded amidst the trees and hills of the island cluster, a nicety which extended even to the forest of masts that towered over the small vessels such as theirs. This town in particular was a haven for shipwrights, but it had tenuous connections at best with the World Navy. In that sense, it was safer than the wilds beyond.

“Alright… Kenny? I’m going to take a walk. It’ll be nice to spend some time on land, don’t you think?” Marlus explained, the rhetoric of his words being somewhat suggestive to the Weasel Man and his weakness, but by no means were the words laced with negativity. As stark a truth as it was that the inexperienced Esper was no longer capable of swimming, the powers he had been blessed with were far more fantastical than he could have imagined. Nonetheless, it was up to Kenny what he did next, and Marlus made sure he understood that: “If you do decide to explore, try not to go too far out. This archipelago’s a big place – almost all the islets are connected – and it’s quite easy to get lost in the hills if you don’t know the place very well. Believe me…”

With that out of the way, and harkening back to a time of his own inexperience, Mister Caine shouldered his bow and proceeded to disembark. The gentle creaking of the harbour’s timber piers beneath his feet was reassuring in a strange way and, looking down towards the coastline, his light green eyes were once more graced with the spectacle that was Abundeen’s shipyards. Much of the main settlement was clustered about on the loch’s shore, but stretching out from that was a bold web of wood and stone structures that took up a good portion of the sea-linked lake itself. A marvel of engineering, despite all its simplicity, and now it housed some of the North Blue’s most talented shipbuilding companies, professional and amateur alike.

I… I think I need a drink after all that, thought the violet-haired vigilante as he meandered amongst the hundreds of vessels. Craft of all shapes and sizes, from simple sailboats like the Salina to massive commercial galleons that came close to matching the scale of naval battleships, surrounded him. Masts towered like mighty pines, threatening to pierce the cloudy sky above, and furled sails of various standard colours rippled softly in the currents of the wind as it bounced to and fro against the hills. The solemn groans of elderly ships receiving much needed TLC and the sights and sounds of new vessels being prepped for construction were all too common, giving a vivid insight as to the daily life of the town.

I forgot how much like a maze this place was… Despite the collection of large buildings on the landside of the town, one could not deny the labyrinthine nature of Abundeen’s network of piers. Such structures stretched in every which way, meeting and scattering like the backstreets of some massive city, and some even functioning as raised bridges build for the use of the island’s chief Shipbuilding Company, led by the McKay Clan. But despite the unorthodox nature of the network, it felt appropriately homely, for many a vessel that made up the current ‘street map’ of the town were of foreign origin. These were families and organisations that had sailed from all across the North Blue (perhaps even beyond) and gathered here, whether their stay was permanent or just temporary, forming a community of many a different face. That was Abundeen’s second ounce of appeal.

Hmm, a ship that’s also a tavern? Well, that’s interesting… Approaching upon a rather unusual example of commercial use, the archer could not help but be intrigued by the ideology of a moving public house. It brought other interesting imagery to mind, though by no means was it too different from the idea of a sea-faring restaurant. To be fair, Abundeen was not exactly short of craft of this kind, with many travellers selling their wares and keeping the country’s economy thriving though trade. To have such an establishment as a tavern on a ship was actually ideal in many regards, as was proven by the abundance of shipwrights of several smaller companies of which he had not heard loitering around the vessel on their break…

SPOILER: Click to show

{*OOC*}

[/b]

[/font] (3b003b)
Kenny Bacon (990099)[/ul][/ul][/spoiler][/font][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[Jade]

The Glorious Sunrise was always a hub of activity when docked, and this morning was no different. The ship's side was lowered, not unlike a bridge over a moat, turning into a walkway into what looked like any landlocked tavern, full of people starting their days off right or sharing a few drinks after a night shift building ships. The sounds of hammers striking metal could be heard intermittently over the sounds of people laughing and shouting and just generally having a good time, while any lapse in sound from the patrons or those who lived aboard the ship were filled instead by the steady sound of music. People coming and going, living and laughing, caught up in the wonder of both the vessel and the supposed "angels" who ran it; that was what the Glorious Sunrise was all about.

Of course, "angel" was a term that rarely lasted longer than the vessel's third day at any one port; by then, people had already seen for themselves what these strange people were like. Rough, loud, and proud was a good description for most of them, though the singer who entertained in the tavern really did seem like an angel. Sky blue hair, a slender figure, and a voice that many found themselves hypnotized by; this was Seren, and with voice alone she attracted many and more to the tavern within the ship. And, on the other hand, there was the other young lady who came with the Wingward Caravan, and she... Well, she was...

"-and then I socked him in the face!" the pink-haired young woman mimed this "socking" by slamming her fist into her open palm, grinning proudly at the patrons sitting at the table with her.

"That's a load of shit, girl!" one laughed, prompting the others to join in with him. "You're gonna tell me that someone like you has not only met 'Hurricane' Pierce, but you also punched him in the face and lived to tell about it?"

The young shipwright puffed out her left cheek, sitting back in the chair. "Maybe. And who here has proof that I didn't, huh?" The wiry young Birkan folded her arms, staring the three much larger men down as she blew an oddly-colored piece of steely grey bubble from her mouth. The resulting pop was likely intended to emphasis her point, but it was soon dashed by the portly man who showed up behind her, carrying a large tray of food in his ham-like hands.

"That'd be me, Kelly. A wanted man like that? Har! He'd have you beaten bloody on the ground in record time, harhar!" The man in charge of the tavern laughed heartily, clapping his "niece" on the shoulder with his free hand. He was a large, pot-bellied balding man, wearing a stained shirt of some coarse material underneath his equally, if not more, stained apron; there were few outside the Caravan who believed that such a man could truly be the father of the blue-haired beauty performing upon the stage in the far left corner of the tavern, and yet he was.

Kelly puffed out both of her cheeks, slouching back into the chair. "Come on, Port. I'm just having fun, telling stories! And you can't deny it was a good story!" The men sitting across the table from her were laughing perhaps a bit too loudly, and her protesting seemed to drive them further into hysterics. "Yeah, well, even if I can't take on the likes of the 'Hurricane' or the 'Crimson Lightning', I can sure as hell take out a couple of idiots like you."

The men kept on laughing, while Port simply snorted. "No causing trouble until we leave, Kelly. And certainly no fighting in my restaurant!" With that, the portly "angel" was off, wading through a sea of customers, some eating a late breakfast, some an early lunch; some a cup of coffee to start the day off right, some alcohol to finish off a night and morning of hard work.