Mission #9 Bitter & Sweet

[❰ Misha ❱]

Post
"Blackbird" Emile Reivelt

It was a beautiful, pristine day; around noon when small Marine craft floated into the Harbor and Emile disembarked. Full of pride and wonder, the young Marine couldn't help but marvel and gape in interest.

Passing through the harbor onto West Street, he saw people passing by and smiling with a full-bodied gait. He witnessed friendly merchants peddling wares on the streets while flanked by a host of gaudy flower shops. The setting and the scenery was ordinary, but it still managed to drive the breath from his lips. The flocks of people he could see made him feel a little self-conscious about getting worked up, so he continued onward past the prow of the Marine ship and walked down the path marked as West Street.

It was a beautiful place and Emile took joy in just finding a peaceful lane down the side, nonchalantly brushing a small breadth of hair from his eyes. It didn't give him many ideas nor was it as opulent and fancy as he liked, but the serenity was quite welcome. He strolled along until he reached his destination: an sullen blacksmith shop on the last leg of the West Road before the Marlo Gate. It was open and shaded underneath the cozy pavilion where the smoke and flames of burnt iron mixed together with those coming from a barbecue grill outside.

A few eyes turned to meet him from both sides of the cobblestone furnace, though Emile had his focus only on the small, but rather heavily-built man wearing a retired Marine's outfit. The pleasantries were quick, the two of them exchanging curt, though rather nervous, nods of silent understanding before Emile sat down on a chair nearby, "I was expecting them to send someone else to try to... 'persuade' me to come out of retirement... didn't expect a young boy I'm afraid."

To Emile's eye, he was a burly man with features that belied a once handsome visage. Now though, there were wrinkles over smooth skin and a goatee of starch white hair. By his chair, there were 3 hammers, all of varying sizes and shapes. When Emile sniffed the air, he caught a faint whiff of alcohol and strong body odors, though it didn't much affect him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Levi Beckert. I'm afraid to say though I wasn't sent to coax you out of your retirement. You've earned it in my opinion. What I'm here for is to ask you a couple of questions." he greeted politely, leaning forward across the large table in front of him, crossing his arms. Levi's expression went

"You shouldn't lean on my Smithing table. Where are your manners boy! Didn't the Marines teach you how to respect your elders things!? When I go to make my next blade, I don't want to have to pick up anything you knock over." he excitedly gestured to shush Emile from the table, "So then, what are you here to ask about?"

A little annoyed, Emile got off the table and leaned back to relax his feet on the stand supporting the table, a motion that also made the man look a little annoyed, "Several years ago, you got into a spat with a Pirate Crew while in the Grand Line. I read that you described him as 'wearing a suit of Dragon Bones, baring a large heavy-hafted Greatsword" Emile motioned, hands coming closer to his face while his own expression belied both coy and seriousness.

"I want to know more about that encounter you had."

A grim little smile made its way to Emile's face as he spoke, gloved fingers absently dusting off the bits of smoldering iron that were left over on the table as Levi met his eyes with the same visible nervousness he had when Emile had entered.

"HmmGah. Of all the things you could ask for, that is one of the few things I'd rather not recount that time. I was a different man back then and trust me boy... if you're after that Pirate, than you certainly have your work cut out for you." he sighed by the flames, picking up a piece of well done meat and throwing it into his mouth before chewing. "But I did swear that I'd help the Marines in any way that I could. For my time however and services rendered, I'm going to have to charge you something. Not money however."

Emile softened up, head turning to rest on his shoulder while his feet moved to kick the cobblestones underneath the charring grill. Seconds later, Levi called for the young girl, appearing no older than 9, whom Emile had barely spared a passing glance on his way in, "This here is my granddaughter. Up until I retired, she had been watched by the Orphanage in the Residential Districts after my son and his wife passed away. That place has been long abandoned and condemned, but I'm admittedly curious about what is inside there. She says she can't remember what occurred there and I'm apt to ask any of the other children who escaped. For the most part, they're beggars or thieves in these parts so I hold my tongue." he patted the young girl on the head as Emile grinned softly at the small, but seemingly very fragile child. Her left eye was a translucent white color while the other was a shade of brown hazel.

"Recently, it's come to my attention that another retired Marine on this island also has a child with the same condition as Hana here. Several of the young boys and girls wandering around town is also with the condition. I've checked with a couple doctors and most brushed it off as harmless... but I have a theory if you care to indulge me."

Emile leaned in to listen, eyes locked in with keen interest while Levi spoke with baited breath, "I think it's an acute allergic reaction to something that they were doing inside the run-down orphanage. That old place did do some things with the Strawberry patches that grow in the forest and grew a few more strange plants. I'm interested in finding out about what they did. Maybe they mixed a strawberry with something that caused this. While its not harmful, I'm too curious to let it go, so if you could do me this favor, I would gladly tell you what I know about that Pirate.

When he was finished, Emile's thoughts retreated back and he leaned against the furnace down to his right. There was a moment when it seemed simple to make the choice. He was curious now and the idea that there was something done like that. He nodded in acceptance, but before he could get up from his seat, Levi spoke up once more, "One more thing though... there is something I want you to know. I did try to get into the Orphanage yesterday, but..." he paused absently, like he was deep in thought, "Something spooked me. When I went to open the door, I felt like there were daggers poised right at my back. I couldn't tell who was watching me or for what reason. I kept looking all the way home, but I couldn't shake the feeling. Once you're at the Orphanage, be careful. I know you're a Marine, but I think there are people who want that place locked down. After that, I decided not to go in there myself."

Emile noted the shiver of cold that seemed to run up the man's spine and nodded, "I'll be careful, but don't worry." Emile smiled confidently as he walked out of the pavilion, "I'm sure I can handle myself." As he exited and began heading down the road, he couldn't know for certain, but the man's story brought him to the attention that someone may indeed be watching him, though he was smiling confidently on the way there.

He arrived at the Orphanage in question with the address given to him by Levi just as the dusk was setting in, seeing the dilapidated building and noticeably smirking. It was a structured building with architecture that intrigued him. Even if he wasn't asked to do the job, he would've been curious enough to enter it on his own anyways. The windows and side doors were barred too, reflecting what was barely left of the day's sun. Withdrawing Irony and Tsukiakari together, his weapons pounced on the wood that blocked his entrance. It took a few careful hits from him to shatter the pieces of wood before all that was left was rubble.

"Oh this is going to be fun!"

"Speech Here"

Note: Apologies if it's not my best post. I broke through a potential writer's block to make it so I had to compromise on my standards a little to get this out there. If it suits your fancy, Levi is open. I have no further use for him so you can kill him later on if you want.

[Blaka]

From a short distance, there stood a woman in the masses, eyeballing the two Marines from afar. So far, Kulira was in a much less impressed mood. West Street and its citizens had little to effect on her. To her, the regular folk around her didn't matter. In fact, they rather annoyed her. Too chatty, too happy, too loud, all of them! Not to mention the constant uneasy looks the woman earned. To be fair, her figure entirely covered by her pitchblack cloak. Only the cigarette smoke emitting from under the heavy hood hinted at something alive under it. Of course, the jolly townsfolk wasn't used to something out of their fun world.

Clearly, this city was in dire need for some realism to its face. A pirate raid or something along the likes of that. Yes, good plan. Whenever she got back to the ship, Miss Akuvutika would suggest it to the Captain.
...Once she had actually found out where the ship was. If she ever could again. Getting tossed off board during a storm was an experience she could have done without. Not even Captain Amelia's powers had been able to prevent that one. Or, more likely, the cyborg lady had just been discarded. Either way, after waking up having almost drowned, she had found there was no ship and no Dusk Pirates around anywhere. For now, she could only hope they'd randomly meet again somehow. Until then, Cheteria would spend some time with old habits.

Old habits meant but two things. One of which required her guitar, which unfortunately still resided on the Gehena out at sea somewhere. The other one only required a target.

As always, Lila's target was chosen to be the first person that stood out to her upon arrival. Perhaps he wasn't the easiest pick, but certainly an entertaining challenge: An attractive pale young man in the cobalt blue uniform of an officer. Back in the day, Chete would have never dared to pick somebody like this who might be actually capable of defending himself successfully. Equipped with her new captain-made toys however, the murderous android was a lot more confident these days.

From her position leaned against the wall a short distance away, the blonde could only overhear some of what soldier and soldier were talking about. In any other context, the smoking lady would not have cared the least bit about what was said. Something about retirement and manners. Yet, the conversation would reveal more details about her target bit by bit. Information that could be used to hunt him down later or simply mock him during their inevitable upcoming fight.

Shortly afterwards, Kulira had found out that they, her victim and thus herself, were heading to an old orphanage. To investigate...experiments on children?! Suddenly, today was not just about the hunt anymore. While it wasn't exactly anger that sank down on her mind, a terrible unease set in. There were moral lines that even somebody like her would not cross. Hurting kids for example...

From where she was standing Lila couldn't quite make out what was wrong with the little girl. For a moment, she zoned out looking at her, unable to take in anything that was said. Too much reminded her of preteen Lila, years ago, before her transformation into the uncaring monster she was today. Nervous. Timid. Weak. The discomfort within her grew so much that the cloaked figure had to force herself to look somewhere else. Goosebumps appeared on her arm and a cold shiver ran down her spine as she tried to calm herself down. Most definetely she'd find out who did this to the kid and why.

As Cheteria turned back around, the man in the blue uniform was on the move, almost having vanished behind the corner already. Hastily, the woman in black pushed herself off of the wall and followed him in an appropriate distance.

[❰ Misha ❱]

Post
"Blackbird" Emile Reivelt

The inside was modestly plain in his view, with rugs and mats for children to sit on with miniature chalkboards strewn around the sitting area. Covered with moss and signs of decay, Emile began scanning the corners and discrete areas for whatever may look out-of-place. It appeared like an ordinary playroom, meant to suit many kids with a spot specially made front-and-center for a teacher or lecturer to stand so that all in the hall would hear and see. He examined the room, occasionally turning over a few spots for anything that looked strange, expecting to find a few things in the room if he was going to have any chance of proving Levi's theory.

If the Orphanage had experimented with Strawberries for any reason at all, he was certain to find organic compounds and chemical mixes. If the compounds had already rotted away and were un-salvageable, than the chemicals would be the other clue to solving the mystery. There were also bound to be hidden journals or perhaps records of the steps taken that would prove useful. If he could also track the flow of the ideas that the orphanage caretakers had, than all the better. In this room that looked like it was built to house children, Emile would expect to find a trash can or anything that might contain strawberry or snack leftovers. Reasoning that there was no better way to discretely experiment on children than by feeding them any altered foods inside a comfortable setting, he took careful look around.

It took him a few other seconds to just look through the few spots in the conspicuous spots in the classroom, but he also than rummaged through the trash can. That was where he found them. Inside, there were dozens of leftover wrappers and other snack foods, but the most prominent was a whole plethora of vines, tiny leaves, and stems. Every bit of the leftover strawberries was very much buried. Emile's lips pursed and his fingers flexed and intertwined while he thought. He ran a finger over the bottom of his chin, taking a few small bits of the strawberry vines that had been discarded. As soon as he brought it close to his face, Emile noted that there was a bittersweet scent around it, not something he would ordinarily associate with the type of strawberries that grew wildly around the island.

He placed the vine in a small bag and placed it in his pocket, along with a few other bits from the trash. They didn't prove anything, but the distinctive smell would prove useful for other clues. He traipsed over a few other places in the small room, eyes warily scanning with an inherent thoughtfulness in his gaze. Though the light had diminished to minimal value at that point, he was used to seeing in the dark and so his eyes had no trouble adjusting. There wasn't anything else that appeared out-of-place, but he than snapped back out of his thoughts.

While he had been wrapped up in his investigation, he noted that his surroundings were hauntingly quiet. It was cool and breezy, but something about it made him on edge, even though he was fine with the quiet. Goosebumps trailed up his spine, making him shiver in response before he made his way for the door at the other end. He walked through a darkened chamber, a place that was a little more intact than the previous room, but the sense of haunting danger still was not quieted. Wary of anything that could happen, he kept his weapons on standby and ready to draw at a moment's notice.

"Speech Here"

2

[Blaka]

From a safe distance, Kulira observed how Emile was slicing down the orphanage's door. Interesting, the swords weren't just there to display status. She had never fought a proper swordsman before, only those poor tournament grunts back home. Those guys could have picked any other weapon with the same result. Then there was her own crewmate, Vivo Segno, who she never ever wanted to go up against. As brutal a monster as Vivo was, Mr. Reivelt here was elegant and precise.

The building was two stories tall, not much to it than a generally creepy feeling and the look of something that was starting to rot away. Patiently, Cheteria watched the Marine step in. Patience was one of the virtues her hobby required her to hold highest. Her targets set the speed; if she wanted to stay unnoticed she had to stay back and wait for an opportunity. An opportunity like this was very welcome, in the house nobody else would interrupt them. Yet, it was better to wait a tad to give the officer some time to advance further into the house. Having him run out of the front door again right away was extremely undesireable. Alas, she stood there smoking the rest of her cig before heading in.

A couple of minutes later, the cloaked figure followed the swordsman inside. Carefully, not to make any noise just yet, she stepped through the door. A cranking board or a scared pet had been her undoing more than a few times already. It was relatively dark in the classroom, the blonde's eyes had to get used to the lighting first. Despite this, one look was enough to figure out that there was no way the experiments were still going. Clearly, Emile had been the first person to enter in quite a while.

Luckily, he had already gone further, to the next room. Foodsteps in the thick layer of dust lead to the door on the other end. However, they also lead pretty much everywhere else. Seemingly, the guy had conducted a quick investigation already.
Hmmmmm...
For a few more seconds, Chete stood there in the middle of the room, pondering. Maybe, just maybe, if she wanted to find out what was or had been going on around here, confronting the man right away was not the best option. If he found out some more by looking at the clues by himself, that would really save some effort on her part. Getting information through long and annoying observation wasn't as efficient as simply pressing it out of the navy soldier. Not as fun either.
"Shrihi!" A chuckle escaped her lips in excitement.
Yes, that was a nice plan. Taking a step forward, the cyborg continued to sneak after her target, shaking with excitement - only to step in the loudest and crankiest boards she had ever encountered. The noise had to be loud enough to be heard three rooms further in.
"Shit."

[❰ Misha ❱]

Post
"Blackbird" Emile Reivelt

Emile had advanced calmly, though a little uneasy with how ominous the place had become. He clasped the blackened mace and lance firmly in hand; his nerves had steadily been chomping at the bit to make him jump. A deep breath and a moments reprieve helped to steady his eyes as he pushed open the door leading out of the classroom hallway. The next room looked to be the lecture hall or at least a common area where the children would play, though still modestly plain and conservative of space. There was a bookcase in the corner, multiple toys strewn out over by the closet, and quite a few windows near to the door.

He started to kneel down to get a closer to an article on the floor that had been mostly obscured from the light of the windows when his ears caught a romp. A loud creaking shook from the area he had just left behind. A bead of sweat poured down his brow, thoughts racing and his hand quickly drawing his mace and holding it at waist level. The noise quieted after a moment, but whatever it had been was enough to spook him. The place was definitely rickety and the wind maybe had done something to dislodge something. It was loud enough that the possibility was also that he wasn't alone after all in this place.

With a heavy breath and a step forward, he steadied himself though slung his mace over his shoulder just in case. He moved back down to reassess the article he had been leaning towards...

'CRACK!'

The windows shattered in a sudden cacophony, admitting 3 small shadows into the room. With eyes flown wide open, he saw the 3 shadows take one glance at him then two took a strong leap towards him. The third one flew across the room out of the corner of Emile's eye, but he was reacting purely on instinct now. The two that were approaching didn't look armed, but they were small targets. He flashed Tsuki across his body, swinging the broad mace at the two interlopers without thinking about it. The first one was quick enough to avoid the blow, but Emile struck the second and the smallish figure went flying like a baseball. Whatever the actual age was, his assailant had the figure of a 5-6 year old and colliding with a heavy ball of solid metal was enough to send them careening back out through the broken window. Another loud 'crack' resounded, signaling to Emile that something had indeed been broken, but before that he was forced to react to his second attacker.

Whatever the creaking sound had been, it had been enough to draw them out. The two figures were garbed in little else but rags, but it was enough to cover their faces. Emile licked his lips as his sudden dry panic had made his arm move on pure reflex. The second boy seemed to be frightened and alarmed as he screamed out from sheer worry at the spot where Emile's mace had sent the boy flying.

"Artemis!! Are you alright!"

Seemingly distracted for a moment, Emile quickly struck out first and closed the distance between them. His hand reached out and while one one knee, he gruffly pulled the boy in close so he could see his face. He pulled off the boy's cloak and looked deep into his eyes; one was a deep crimson pink and the other iris was a dark and brown hue.

"Speech Here"

3

[Blaka]

Holding her breath, Kulira awaited the inevitable return of the man in blue to come see where the creaking came from. With as little noise as possible, she raised her right hand. Palm pointing towards the door, the attentive listener could hear a quiet *click* sound coming from the blonde's wrist. The clicking signified a change of weaponry inside the Keze A Bukott, the little device built into her right hand. Blood puming through her skull, he hooded figure stood there in the middle of the empty room. To hell with using the detective, she'd just take him out as soon as he'd step through the door! Well, start fighting him anyway. Hopefully he wouldn't immediately go down after a small electric shock. Then, once he was dealt with, she could investigate further herself...

Luckily, there was no need for this. Instead, she hurried towards the door to look at what was going on after she heard the window crack. And another. And another. Her inner weapon still ready to fire at a moment's notice, Lila peeked into the other room. Three small figures were standing in there in front of Emile. Clearly, as small as they were, these were either young children or dwarves. In this part of the world, likely the latter. Cloaked like herself, one could not make out their faces or exact age. Not to mention that Officer Reivelt was blocking out Cheteria's possibility to get a clear look at them. Only one of them was fully visible, the other two - and what they were doing - were hidden behind the soldier.

So, Chete was more than shocked when Emile suddenly raised his mace against them and struck a kid straight in the face with heavy steel without even a warning. As her eyes widened in shock, the lump of discomfort in her chest grew into utter disgust. Men like these were the worst. A picture flashed up in her mind, grown men converging on the little girl that she had once been, a murderous gleaming in their eyes. Striking down, potentially crippling or even killing the young was absolutely inacceptable!

"KYYYYA!"
A shrill shriek escaped her, drowning out whatever the Marine was yelling, who was currently rushing towards his second target and grabbing them. Preventing the lad from running away, in Chete's eyes. With a lound bang the cyborg punched the door open completely and aimed her hand at the evildoer kneeling on the floor.

"Hel Sikoly!"
Through a tiny hole in her hand, two darts on wires were shot towards her target, primed to hit him right in the back. Chete wanted to see him twitching on the floor for what he did, the taser's eletricity running through his system.

"Leave the children alone, bastard!"

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Equipment Used}Hel Sikoly (Hel Shriek): A taser that can be shot for 1/6l of milk. Two metal darts on thin wires are shot of Chete's palm that can electrocude a target. It can hit targets up to 10 meters away. Getting hit results in short bursts of muscle contractions that can stun the target for a few seconds. 10 seconds after firing, the metal gate in Chete's hand automatically shuts again, cutting the wire off.

[❰ Misha ❱]

Post
"Blackbird" Emile Reivelt

At that moment, Emile was reacting by reflex and his muscles were tense from having had the children interrupting him. He wasn't panicked, but his own movements were fidgeting with ample anticipation, readying should more of them enter in. His system was on high alert and he held the remaining kid in his hand, curiously peering into the heterochromatic irises.

His brain processed information without distinction, ruling his surroundings fast. He heard a bang that almost sounded like a gunshot and an indistinct voice shouting something. He dropped the boy in his hand and went immediately on the defensive. From a crouch, Emile could only tell that something had bashed the door open and the lack of full visibility prevented him from ascertaining much else about the new entrant.

"What the..."

He moved in a blitz, leaping backwards before the words even left his own mouth. He saw one sharpened dart slice into the air where he once was before it happened. The second one glanced his shoulder and didn't sink in past the fabric. He felt the sudden zap however, the feeling of electricity coursing through his uniform for just a second and running a shock over his skin.

In a second, Emile's adrenaline kicked in and he renewed his stance with the Tsukiakari in his left hand. The mace glimmered in his hand and he also withdrew Irony with his right, holding the large, barreling lance pointedly at his opponent. For a moment, he had been expecting one of the others had gone around to get in his blind spot, hoping to attack him when he was unawares. Instead he saw a plain-looking woman with blond hair and sinking stark blue irises.

"Leave the children alone, bastard!" he heard in a loud panicked yell. Instantly, his mind thought that this woman was their ringleader or perhaps someone else who had a standing with this group. The sky had now progressed into fervent night and his vision was hindered slightly. His fingers shifted slightly around his weapons, holding them threateningly and anticipating another attack and prepared to fend it off. A glance at the child he had grasped though was telling a different story than the one he was thinking of. Instead of rallying to her side, the child seemed honestly perplexed as well.

"They attacked me first! If you want the same as them then fine, but I'm not here for a fight. I just want some answers about this place than I'll be gone!"

"Speech Here"

4