Rogue States of Being [Flame/Virus]

[Flame]

"Why is it so damned cold." The complaint elicited laughter from those surrounding the shivering man. Glancing from side to side at the surrounding civilians his frowning face silenced them. With those surrounding him quieted he gave himself a great hug. Hands rubbed vigorously against opposite arms in an effort to create any more warmth. An action that was all for naught as he found the chills continuing to run down his body, shaking his spine to his skin.

The unforgiving weather of the North Blue was so unlike that beautiful warmth of the south. He didn't know he would miss that warmth so much until he had gotten here. Standing between the great red stone buildings which towered upwards with terrible awe he felt lonely, cold and lonely. Not that he was alone upon the street, there were many people walking about. Bundled up in burgeoning fur coats they huddled in groups of two or three strolling casually about. They were the residents of Ice Nine, so far as he could tell, and they seemed social with each other. Mars however was pointedly ignored, having donned a thin black jacket over his usual clothing and with only slacks to protect his lower regions he was freezing.

Pulling his fedora down tighter upon his head he snuggled cherry red ears as deep as they could go. The icy winds that slid through the town's alleys and walkways was unbearable for his unprepared extremities. Stalking his way down the street Mars' light green eyes scanned the storefronts looking for a tavern, or a pub or the like where he could sit down and rewarm himself. Not that I've been warm for a while ... he joked to himself, he had entered the North Blue a while ago, but travelling farther and farther north it had only gotten worse.

Finally his meandering paid off, The Belowing Hearth, the sign upon the red brick structure stated. An arrow lay upon it pointing to a a stairwell of bricks descending from street level to a thick brown door of what looked to be wood. Unable or unwilling to worry about what the odd name might mean Mars hurried down the stairs. An accidental misstep almost sent him tumbling down but instead caused his stiff legs to circle hurriedly into motion. Taking far too many steps far too quickly he crashed into the brick wall opposite of the stairwell. Rigid cheek skin slammed incongruously into the rough surface of the cut stone. If he had had an itch to scratch perhaps it would have been a small comfort, but instead the freezing stone and rough surface only managed to bruise him. A soft wound which would have bothered him much less in the semi-tropical climates the cold amplified the pain giving him an intensely pink mark across his right cheek.

Gently he pressed against the wall detaching himself from it and turned to face the door. A moist breath upon his red hands was momentarily soothing before he reached forward and pressed open the door. Warm air poured out of the establishment and delighted Mars shuffled in. A hearty welcome from the barman at the far left end of room was a wonderfully compelling greeting. Waving his arm in miniature movements at the man Mars was suddenly aware of how cold he had been. All across his body he could feel the sudden change in temperature. It was uncomfortable for the moment but largely able to be overlooked as he scanned the room.

The dimly lit room was large and wide and yet small. Wooden walls separated sections of open area covered in dark wooden tables ensconced in chattering people. Looking about he noted many brick fireplaces which strangely seemed to be blowing air out of them and into the room. The talking was all about the tavern it was an awfully lovely place. It had that warm, homey, lived in sort of feeling that ones local pub might have. The mood which seemed to coat the air was lively and friendly, two things that Mars could get down with. Unsure where to start he simply stood there watching and gazing. Unable to decide he headed for the bar, from their he could scope out the place and choose options from there.

SPOILER: Click to show

viruswithshoes

have fun :3

[viruswithshoes]

"Oh, come on, it was a joke. Lighten up, you got something hot and refreshing right in front of you...and your drink."
An unaffiliated blonde man chuckled and a took a swig of his warm, hard apple cider, nearly choking on his drink as he thought about the tasteless joke he had just heard regarding demise of Whitebeard and how much he didn't want to laugh.
"That's nothing...you ever hear the 'Celestial Dragons' joke?"

The infamous 'Celestial Dragons' joke was usually done in hushed tones in remote areas as possible. More than a few aspiring comedians had their lives cut short for the sake of being edgy via the telling of that joke. Not one to let someone's discomfort, and her possible death, get in the way of a good dirty joke the afro-haired Shade Muramasa set up the joke with a family on a stage about to perform their act for a director's approval.

Before the truly obscene part of the joke could begin, the bartender created a loud thud on Shade's table by banging a full pitcher of apple cider containing what he hoped was enough rum to turn a loud woman into quieter, less conscious one. "On the house if you don't finish that joke, Miss." A free drink in exchange for not telling a costly joke seemed fair to the young woman who had already spent a good part of her day joking around with the local shipwrights.
"I could use a drink. I spent all day putting a screen door on a pirate's submarine." That one actually made the blonde shipwright smile. For Shade, the lone Revolutionary in her lonely cell, the next joke would be the the clincher.
"What do you call a Marine stationed on a base with no goats? Lonely."

Despite being in a bar on an island heavily populated by Marines, the man Shade's chosen first mate laughed. Gauging the reaction to pirate and marine jokes tended to work better than outright asking someone to be the first person to join her cell of revolutionaries, especially when she mentioned that the rest were dead or presumed so. The towering, semi-inebriate with his giant adz looked like a future revolutionary enough for the liking of the giddy, young woman who still shivered despite not taking off her long, red, coat. Though, a shipwright herself, the rowdy revolutionary believed it was a position worth doubling up on.
"I like the cut of your jib... Alcohol and a long day of working out in the bitter cold of Ice Nine made details like her new crewman's name not only hazy but irrelevant. "First Matey."

There was a clanking sound when Shade rose to which the prospective revolutionary with the shaved eyebrows and nose ring noticed but didn't comment upon.
"Weapon up, Revo! Let's see if you got what it takes to..." Standing suddenly made the rum rush to clanking woman's head, making it difficult to finish that sentence. "But yeah, anyway, come attack me all that. Shake that adz. Show me what you're working with."
"I'd, uh, rather not." The shipwright looked much shorter than his seven feet and three inches height while slowly backing up from the shorter woman.
"Come on, I'll give you a free shot," she said while pulling open her red coat, resulting in another metallic sound and exposing a tight, black tee shirt which stopped just short of her belly button and sported the logo of the famous musician 'Soul King Brook'.

Shade continued approaching Edgar, whose name she finally remembered, who in turn awkwardly walked backwards through The Belowing Hearth and managed to elude the drunken maniacal woman while still bumping into every wooden room divider he could. The dim lighting did neither the stalker or the stalked any favors when it came to avoiding obstructions.

"It's just a friendly fight." Shade whined and glared with increasingly narrowing eyes as the alcohol wore on her. A few blinks threatened to turn into a nap and therefore a lost opportunity to find someone to share anarchistic shenanigans with. "I'll make you Captain if you do a good job. I'm just that genderbus." Slurred speech meant there wasn't much time left before drunken Shade became sleepy Shade which could be cancelled out by fighting Shade.

At that point the disappointed revolutionary needed a fight to get her blood pumping more than a crewman.
"Doesn't anybody want to hit this?" Something that was part frustrated sigh and part disgusted 'eaten a rotten squid' gag escaped from Shade's mouth when the words that exited her mouth finally reached her brain. "By 'this', I mean my face? Anyone want to fight me and join The Revolution. I'll even take a pirate as long as he's not too ugly."

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC:}Flameyz has my permission to move my character around this entire thread as long as he's gentle.

[Flame]

Arriving at the bar he was met by a grumbling bartender. Nonchalantly Mars pulled up a stool, leaned his cane upon the bar, and sat before the returning man. He was mumbling to himself something of 'dragons' or something and seemed strangely unhappy. Mars watched him, he held a bemused grin upon his face as he watched the bartender viciously attack the dirt upon a glass. "Can you get me a brandy? A strong one?" Mars asked politely, the man seemed to be having a bad day and Mars at least could understand for today. The weather had not put him in the best mood either.

The gristly barkeep seemed suddenly aware of the presence of his customer with no drink. Turning about he grabbed a golden bottle of liquor. Decanting a few decent sips worth of the drink into a small glass he placed it upon the wooden bar before Mars. The South Blue native grabbed at the small glass holding it in the air and eyeing the golden liquid. Twisting the glass in hand he heard the bartender say "Go on. Its good stuff, we need it like that here in the north." Mars turned an eye back to the barkeep wondering if something gave him away. The man laughed at him as if it seemed obvious how he identified him. "No one from the North Blue would walk around wearing something like that." The blatant response was given, Mars responded with a pitiful chuckle.

With a final glance at the liquor he brought it to his lips in one fell swoop. Drawing the first sip into his hungering throat he allowed it to smoothly slide down and into his belly. The warmth it provided in his chest was welcomed gratefully as he gave the barmen a single thumbs up. His mouth otherwise occupied took down another sip. A rosy glow appeared upon Mars' already red cheeks. He was if a little unprepared for the strength of the northern brew which he now swallowed down the gullet.

As he took another sip Mars became aware of a loud conversation going on at a table not too far away from where he sat. Spinning on his chair he pressed his back into the bar's wooden overhang resting both elbows upon the lip and took his first lay of the room. The focus of his attention was a presently very loud woman. With a manner that seemed to be drunken to say the least she tipped and stumbled and otherwise roared at the company of burly men about her. Her voice caterwauling as it was peaked Mars' slightly encumbered interests.

Taking the rest of the shot to his mouth he swung up. The remaining contents of the glass poured down his throat building a confidence that needed no help already. "Doesn't anyone want to hit this?" Her questioning voice and the perfect question was all that was left needed to bring the lusty red-head to action. Slamming the glass upon the counter Mars dropped some coins upon the counter to pay for it. Distracted as he was by his inner thoughts and the advancing influence of alcohol he didn't catch the mocha woman's next words.

Swiveling his hand at the bartender his slightly slurred voice said. "Wish me luck. Though I don't need it." He gave the man a knowing wink, grasped at his cane sword and hopped himself off his stool. Strutting his way over to the lady in question he didn't notice the barkeep's face of incredulity at what was happening. Not that he would've cared, slightly inebriated he was unaware of most's thoughts and intentions. Placing two light taps upon her shoulder he gave his most suave smile. As she turned to face him Mars was pleasantly surprised to see that she was quite easy upon the eyes.

Taking her hand in his, his smile widened to a grin. "I'd be more than happy to take you up on the deal. Do you have a room or would you like to do it in an alley or something? It's a little cold but I think I could manage the latter." Mars said in the most suave voice he could. Which between his slightly addled state and definitively lecherous purpose came out less suave than his best. He waggled an eyebrow knowingly and rested his cane-sword upon his shoulder.

SPOILER: Click to show

Virus has free reign to do whatever he likes with Mars. So long as he doesn't break any rules that Mars may feel inclined to.

[viruswithshoes]

Shade pointed a smile as well as a gloved right index finger at her new Captain, or whatever he was going to be.
"I like your moxie, Red-Headed Stranger. You remind of me taller, older me...with flat hair, and you know...being a guy and all." She shook her head as if to knock out any more run-on sentences from her head. "Here's a good place as any, I'm not a fancy girl." The mocha-skinned woman grinned while deftly sticking her left thumb into one of the two black belts that criss-crossed her hips then unbuckling it one smooth motion. The limp belt then became a typical rigid katana in a nondescript black sheath which slid off to reveal a naked blade in her left hand. It seemed more than fair to offer to fight the man not only slightly inebriated but with her off hand.
"Come on and put up your dukes, or sword or whatever."

One deep breath later the sobering swordswoman took in her surroundings and mentally catalogued the items that could be either weaponized, turned into clothes or turned into weaponized clothes. At the moment she felt horribly under-dressed and therefore under-armed, then picking a fight in a bar with a complete stranger.
Then, on third thought Shade decided that her first, hastily made, drunken decision to vet a respective member of the Revolutionary Army with a fight seemed sensible enough.

To expedite this test of the green-eyed man's rebellious potential the woman with a naked sword in her bare left hand began waving her katana side to side.
"Come on...don't be a sword tease."

There was a palpable tension in the tavern once a weapon came into play and one intrusive altruist saw fit to end things peacefully. "Lady, you're a little drunk and I think it's time-"
That one attempt at a peace negotiation ended with a quick slap to his groin by a gloved hand that felt like a tiny wrecking ball and peace seemed highly over-rated. The hand then rested limply at it's owner's side as if too heavy to wield a second time.

While some of the patrons were rightly wary of their genital safety others gathered closer to the red-coated, afro-haired woman which made her once again rethink her hard cider induced initiation challenge...at least inside of the The Belowing Hearth.
The prospect of a full-on bar room brawl seemed to not be in her drunken, slow motor skill, favor.
"So...uh, the alley option still available, Sweetie?"

[Flame]

Her reaction to his response was confused as his hammered brain could be. His slightly reddened cheeks from the cold and liquor now flushed beet red. Right here? So bold! So... thought paused as naked metal flashed before him. Instinctively he stepped backwards, maybe it was his inner swordsman, maybe it was something else. The cane resting upon his shoulder fell as his grip loosened upon it only slightly. With solid timing Mars' thumb wedged itself into the near invisibly divide of the cane. Fingers grasped about the cane holding it still as he pressed upwards with his thumb. The cane split open revealing the thin blade which it sheathed.

"So you want a fight? I thought it was another escapade being looked for." Mars said crushed that he likely wasn't going to be pleasing she and himself in the way he had thought he might be. His green eyes watched with what care they could give as she waved her weapon about blatantly and without care for others safety. Not that many did seem to worry, they had simply stepped aside leaving him and her in an openish circle with a few pieces of furniture to keep them company. Or so it had seemed until a new voice rose up calling her to stop.

Mars winced as he watched her gloved hand slap itself upon the man's genitals. He bit his lip as he watched the unfortunate fall to the ground crumpling like a piece of paper. The attack seemed to churn the crowds up a bit. As they moved in closer, a few seemed emboldened now, for what reason Mars could not guess. Eyeing both the lady and the now hovering men Mars wondered what was coming next. The actions of everyone had been moving slightly fast for his addled brain as he tried his best to process it all. Perhaps they also wished to claim his prize, whatever prize this might be.

Then she asked if the alley were an option anymore. Adding upon a 'sweetie' nickname on top which renewed hope in his original purpose. "Wherever the lady would prefer." The red-haired fool said plainly as he drew forth his sword fully from his cane now. "But first ..."

With a flourish he brandished the sword before the gathering group of men about them. In his off hand the wooden sheath of the cane was grasped firmly for use as a beating came. "Anyone who wishes to claim this one's virtue" He called drunkenly out to them all. Waving a finger in an act of more bravado than tact. "Has to go through THIS" he bumped the end of his cane awkwardly against his chest as he tried to point to himself. Laughter met his stupor as they looked at the semi-lanky poorly dressed swordsman.

A disgusted frown slid across Mars' face as he reached for the nearest drink. To the dismayed and angered reaction of the drink's original owner he shoved it in his own face. "You dare laugh?" He questioned incredulously, "You all, civilians, idiots, the lot of you." The alcohol brought forth his more confrontational side. "You know nothing of the world" He waggled a finger at them all. "Come! I am of the greatest group in the world. This here pirate will show you the meaning of protecting one's booty." At the word 'booty' he pressed a finger backwards into the chest of the lady next to him.

About him a greater clamor grew. Showing teeth almost like an animals Mars seemed to show hackles.

SPOILER: Click to show

I figure we can start our argument here? I dunno I think its a decent way into the revo vs pirate debate.

If not we probably need to find a way to calm down the situation or Mars may have just incited a true bar brawl.

[viruswithshoes]

"Anyone who wishes to claim this one's virtue has to go through THIS."
Shade stifled a laugh at the assumption that she still had a virtue to claim. Most men thought of themselves as the first to sail uncharted waters and most of the time the well-traveled woman let the men she knew have their delusions. But then there was a thumb thrust into her breast in an ungentlemanly, if accidental, fashion which she could have brushed off had the swordsman not arrogantly claimed pirate superiority. Also, some sort of ownership or at least stewardship of her booty which didn't push her anger button quite as hard.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there! I know you pirates have inflated egos but there's a hierarchy, you know?" With more effort than seemed necessary the afro-sporting woman lifted her gray-gloved right hand to her forehead, the contact between which resulted in a purple bruise beginning to well.
"Here is the Revolutionary Army. The best of the bestiest. We got Dragon and Ivankov and all the best people. Now...pirates aren't bad, their second place, but there's a huuuuge gap between them and us. Then there's stuff like rats and roaches, that crud that I get behind my ears and then The Marines and the Celestial Dragons."

A heavy hand gloved in stone was meant to come down on Mars' shoulder as a slightly painful sympathy pat but instead came down on the bar, chipping the thick, varnished wood. As a shipwright, it kind of hurt Shade to accidentally damage a piece of wood."That's nice wood. Oak? Poplar?" Her right arm now felt dead from far too much use of her stone glove. It was good for slapping men in their most sensitive areas but had already caused more trouble than it was worth. Besides, the only worse than a bare hand in the cold was a cold stone glove.

The gray glove transformed from a stone and into a glove via Miss Muramasa's devil fruit was put away into a pocket in her heavy red coat which bore it's weight without issue.
"You know what, you're trouble," The revolutionary with the tired right arm said as she leveled her katana at the pirate that deigned rescue her. "And not the good fun kind. See, that's the problem. Pirates are strong but they're stupid and unfocused. If your kind focused on doing some good then you wouldn't be number two."

"Well, aren't you both criminals? What's the difference?"
The characteristically loquacious lady found herself dumbstruck at such a questions only able to choke on the palpable ignorance of someone who could not tell a group of noble rebels from a gang of thieves and cut-throats.

[Flame]

Unfortunately the damsel is distress did not respond as he'd thought she might. Rather than be impressed or perhaps swoon at his attempt at knightly chivalry. Mars turned about to face the woman who began to espouse her demonstrably incorrect position that revolutionaries even might be the best. He could do not but bark his laughter at her indefensible beliefs. Chortling in his amusement as she continued to speak to her 'alternative facts'. It appeared that she needed education in the reality of the world, this was the Age of Piracy not that of the petty revolution.

Whether because of the alcohol or by pure luck Mars then suddenly stepped sideways, almost staggering. Falling where his shoulder had once been he noted a awfully gray looking train of a hand crash past into the table beneath. The thick varnished wood beneath it was marred slightly as the now notably gloved hand slid away. As it returned back to its owner, Mars was fairly certain he saw it change color and form. But that sort of certainty troubled him. Blurring vision and unsuccessful attempts to keep his thoughts perfectly straight made him if anything question it a little. Suddenly with the flash of steel a blade placed itself between himself and the misinformed revolutionary before him. As her deniable sermon finally came to end, the 'suave' man began to formulate his counter in his mind.

It was helped as a third, unworthy of the conversation decided to drop in with his own point. Mars only gave him a glance, his eyes sharp as they would get and a disapproving frown lathered across his face. "The difference is night and day." He said in a matter-of-fact fashion. Vaguely gesturing towards the lady before him "The self-righteous pricks that call themselves revolutionaries have such small and unworthy goals." The line earned him a few jeers and some level of unsophisticated gesture. In a quick step he put himself atop the cracked table tilting his head down slightly to make sure he didn't crash his head into the ceiling. Something he was safe from as his head was still perhap a foot or more from the top.

"They are so petty they try to place their holier-than-thou beliefs upon a stand. And enforce it upon all whether they are wanting of it or not. They call themselves saviors. She calls them the 'bestiest'" Mars paused for a moment laughing before the crowd. "They are at best third in terms of strength and in a similar bucket when it comes to their idiotic ideals." Bringing his sword forth he slid its bladed edge against that of the weapon facing him. "Pirates, we dream bigger, look farther, One Piece is more than a simple object for the taking. It is the freedom to do anything that your heart might desire. It places no requirement of some civilian who just wants to be left alone. It is the calling of those who dream ..." He paused for some dramatic effect. "The calling of those who would strive to reach for the stars. It isn't for nothing that the sea is ruled by pirates. It Isn't For Nothing That This Is The AGE OF PIRACY." His emphasis came hard down upon those last words.

Turning back to the fool who had thought to impose himself upon their 'debate'. "So don't dare call us the same. I am not some mere criminal. I don't cross the law for base wants or just for the sake of it." Then a great idea brightened its light before him. "It makes me free, free to do all sorts of things. Such as this!" He proclaimed smiling as he jumped forward off the table. Pressing his blade into hers he drew both to the side. Landing before the woman whom he'd only recently been trying to lay, he stepped in closer leaving only a hairs breadth between him and her. His lips covered hers, as they traded distinctly alcoholic breath.

Drawing back with a quick reverse he smiled in the excessively suave manner that he believed himself to have. A certain silence spilled over the crowd as they wondered what might result in what just happened. "It's the freedom to take what is there to be taken." Cheekiness poured through the grin he then put on.

[viruswithshoes]

If that kiss had been a sword Shade would have been fallen to it. Unsheathed in a flash and struck with accuracy and purpose. While she wasn't against sudden and aggressive tongue-play in a barroom setting, or any setting,really, the proud heckler of pirates refused to swap saliva with such a filthy, pirate, mouth.

An exaggerated look of disgust appeared on Shade's face along with an extended tongue,"Blegh!" and wad of spit shot from the revolutionary's mouth in response to the amorous pirate.
"Nothing sobers a lady up like trying to get the taste of pirate out of her mouth. I think the last female he kissed was his ship's figurehead." She snorted as she chuckled far too long at her own humor. "Probably stripped the varnish off too." She made a waving gesture in front of her newly bare right hand as a criticism of the pirate's oral hygiene.

"Now..." Shade said while hopping up and down one time and then deciding she didn't have the sobriety enough to jump onto the same table as Mars, but felt confident enough to step upon a chair and then onto the table which in retrospect felt completely pointless.
"Yeah, pie rats are always taking stuff...like your gold and..." Her alcohol-addled brain tried to think of a second valuable thing. "...other shiny things. Revolutionaries do good for people while you jerks are just out for yourselves. Face it, cane guy, we're the good guys and you pirates are...I don't know...the mooching cousin nobody likes."
It was official: hard apple cider hit the insult portion of her brain the hardest, which was the part she wanted the most right then.

"Don't both of you just do what you want, regardless of the consequences?"
The normally chipper woman in the red coat felt like turning that one heckler into two halves of one until she saw that he was an entirely different man than before. In fact, it was the shipwright she had just tried to recruit.
"...No? Um, we break the law, we're good, but when they," She pointed an accusatory finger in the direction of the other drunk sword-wielder with a sketchy relationship with the law. "break the law nothing good happens. Furthermore-"
"Can someone call The Marines already?"

There were a thousand and one cures for drunkenness across the seas but in her experience the words "Call The Marines" sobered Shade up more than all the cold showers, coffee or prairie oysters in the world.
"Sure is late. Pie Rat," Shade said, smirking in Mars' direction. "I'll be stealing that kiss back later or maybe stabbing you or something," she said with half-lidded eyes and a slurring voice.

Using one of the taller patrons of The Belowing Hearth's shoulder as a brace Shade let herself down from her standing position upon the table. The assortment of dock-workers and shipwrights did their best to not impede the wobbly woman's departure by getting out of her increasingly erratic path. Inhibited reflexes caused a few stumbles on the way to the stairwell and one collision with the brick wall once she reached the other side of the door.

Dressing for style and protection did Shade Muramasa no favors in the oppressive cold of Ice Nine with her chain-mail and leather coat and thin tee shirt.
"I see her. Afro, a red coat and a Soul King shirt."
Shade had to pause and look around in order to see who in Ice Nine was biting her style before noticing that the two men in questions were not the fashion police, but Marines.
"I'm glad you're here. There's this pirate down there kissing people and talking a bunch of crap. You should have heard what he said about your mothers. Hold on..."

A cold, tremoring hand was placed against one Marine's chest as Shade leaned against him and dry heaved. That hand felt even colder with a metal brace around it.
"Sorry, sweetie, but I don't think we're at the handcuff stage yet." Once again Shade unbuckled her loosely fit, black belt and brought it back to it's original katana form. While the cuffs awkwardly jingled and swayed, Shade's sword smoothly and cleanly was drawn and re-sheathed before the marine could fall down bleeding in the snow.
"At least that dumb pirate had the manners not to get kinky right away."

Alcohol and arrogance assured Shade that the second Marine would see his wounded partner and run for help, leaving the shivering swordswoman to sober up in peace and quiet. Once again those two A's had lied to her, which became apparent when her face met the snow dusted streets of Ice Nine after something else met the back of her head.

[Flame]

His grin dropped only slightly as spit crashed upon the floor of the increasingly fervent bar. Turning about to face his one-time kissing partner he smiled dirtily at the revolutionary as she talked of his so-called make-out times with the figurehead of his former pirate ship. Raising an eyebrow, he heckled back slightly, "Unfortunately for me, it had better breath than you." He laughed to the crickets which did not wish to hail his joke as worthy. That silence slowly swept back onto him and his chuckling with it was snuffed out.

'Now' she said, as she moved toward the table. He watched her glance at it, the one he had only moments ago made his speech upon. Giving an amused bow, he gestured to the table as if giving her the stage. Hopping butt first upon another table nearby he sat to watch. Lacking boldness and perhaps a little balance she took the easy way out. Bouncing from chair to table she undercut her argument as she showed herself incapable at the simple table hop. Her arguments came out muddled and uncertain, words and thoughts flowed out in seemingly random causes. Perhaps aided by his own addled mind they lacked a level of sense to him.

The crowds swirled uncertainly, all about somewhat unconvinced by this current argument of what they considered to both be people below the law. The first to talk back was that man. The one who had found his courage before stood back up. He questioned both of them, Mars could not but smile at his question. The man was correct, as she hurled her garble-full answer at him, Mars could not but enjoy the scene. He spoke again, invoking the marines, raising some minor concerns in the back of his head. Alcohol spoke against them and won decisively, but not so with the revolutionary it seemed.

She was struck silent by the comment. A moment of silence was quickly turned as she now faced Mars rather than the room at large. Speaking directly to him she named him 'pirate' with some odd pause in the middle. Promising a kiss or a stab in return for his previous gesture Mars could only grin back. "So you do want another." Giddiness flowed unconstrained from him as he stuck his tongue out at the revolutionary as she gained help down from the table before making her way out of the bar in some level of urgency.

Frowning towards the door he paused, quiet and milling concern was washing about the room. Taking a moment Mars hopped off of his tabletop, landing firmly upon the ground he found himself oddly sobering, if only slightly. With a small amount of gusto he walked over to the man who was now being crowded by a small group of well-wishers happy that he had broken up the fight. The conversation about him silenced as Mars approached, with the danger calming he sheathed his cane sword. Butting into the conversation face first he muted the group instantly.

"The revo girl may be scared of the marines. But I'm not. And ..." He paused gathering more thoughts "You're right, I don't care about the consequences. It's much more scary to think what if I don't reach for the stars. I might die from boredom." A simply smile strolled across his face as he turned and trotted confidently away from them. Looking about the bar he found it less welcoming than before. A wearied sigh slid exasperatedly from his mouth. Back to the cold I guess.

Huddling up in his insufficient clothes he readied himself to brave the elements once again. With one hand he pressed open the wooden door of the pub once more. Immediately cold air rushed in as the warmer pub air raced skyward. An immediate shiver rolled over his body as he stepped out.

"So you must be the other nuisance-maker." A no-nonsense voice greeted him as he stepped upon the street proper.

[viruswithshoes]

As a little girl Shade Muramasa's afro hairstyle carried with it a running joke about it doubling as a helmet. It took no effort to style and was good for hiding small and light items but not once had the kinky, brown hair acted as a decent buffer between her skull and a truncheon put to purpose. Lying bleeding from a baton strike to her head, Shade began thinking up hat options. Perhaps an armored beanie or a fez.

It was potent inspiration to get up and fight when the aching, afro-haired, agitator of authorities noticed that the man who had struck her ignored her in favor of a new piece of baton-candy. One upright physically, if not mentally and emotionally, the red-clad revolutionary called out to the future corpse who hit her with the intention of telling the pre-deceased that it was rude to fight one enemy before the first was defeated.
"'Dubna?"
Shade found her tongue and mind at odds so sharp swords would have to replace sharp wit.

The frustrated female sword-slinger could have sworn she heard the clacking of the Marine's brass balls when he had the temerity to turn his back to her. Some saw striking their enemy in the back as cowardice but Shade was taught to fight under the rules that her enemy set. As she was attacked from behind, it was okay to respond in kind.

The greater techniques of Shade's two-sword style were inaccessible due to head trauma and drink but a wobbly air slash was managed that did irreparable damage to the thick wool coat emblazoned with the Marine logo upon the back of her nemesis.
"Nad su warmb now, huh?"

Swords and eyelids felt equally heavy to the bruised drunk who swayed side to side in an accidental lapse into an unpredictable stance Shade hoped to remember to integrate into her style later. When the first swing of the patrolman's wooden jitte whooshed by her head without her even noticing his swing, it seemed more than a novel idea when drunk.
"Wabm!" Even a minor victory and adrenaline couldn't bring her speech back, to her chagrin.

The horrible racket of wood clanging against metal penetrated the night and threatened to bring more white-clad lawmen. When Shade couldn't use her swords to deflect the wooden jitte, her coat picked up the slack of protecting her torso, resulting in the cacophonous chorus.

"Little help here, Pirate Pal?" It seemed annoyingly appropriate for her ability to speak clearly came back in time to swallow her pride and ask her previous pirate rival for assistance.

[Flame]

Reflexively his grip on the cane sword strengthened as his eyes swung upwards to confront the one who spoke to him. Dressed in the common gear of the marines he was standing with his sword pointed at Mars' sorry-looking form. Mars' eyes narrowed in an instant, alcohol clouding his judgement as it did he found the anger passed and he laughed before the marine soldier. "Go play swords with someone who gives a d*mn marine." Bringing forth his cane he knocked away the sword from facing him down directly.

Stepping forward he grinned maniacally at the marine. "Don't make threats you aren't willing to go through with boy." He prodded with his words to the bristling marine. With another step he now placed himself beside the marine, he smiled as he did looking about the street. It had been a little more life-like before, but civilians seemed to be crowding around the edges. Was it the marines that were causing it, he looked about for Shade noting her lying upon the floor with yet another marine standing above her. Frowning slightly he turned to the man standing beside him.

"DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THE MARINES!" The marine's fury burst out as he swung his sword in towards Mars' exposed flank. Responding in pure laughter he could give only slight admiration for the marine for even trying. Drawing at the hilt he unsheathed the solid metal of his blade angling it to catch the marine's dashing strike. Undeserved confidence and addled thinking left Mars' block lacking in the strength he would normally apply to it and the slash surprised him.

The force of the strike knocked him off his narrow stance. Staggering backwards the marine smiled as the grin was summarily wiped off Mars' cheeky face. "Serves you right, now you-" The humiliated youth raised a hand to stop the comment before it could continue on any further. At once he drew his weapon fully from its sheath. "Fine, that one is yours. You'll get no others." Mars responded with now narrowed eyes. In a moment he lunged forward stabbing his sword at the marine. Lucky for the fool he was blessed with decent reflexes and training it seemed. He caught the lunge with a decent parry.

Denied his immediate victory Mars swung into a devious flurry of blows weaving in sidesteps and the like. The marine rushed to respond his defenses holding but barely. In an alcohol-addled mistep Mars overlunged and found himself with weak footing again. The marine looking for his opening capitalized immediately. A low swinging slash sent Mars staggering again and earning him a bloodied cut across his back. Stumbling back again Mars redoubled his efforts. Greater concentration poured into his attack and he met the marine's sword with attack after attack. Then he smiled, "Alright then."

Sidestepping an offensive by the marine he swept up with his own cane blade aiming for the exposed belly of his opponent. Steel met steel as the marine managed a block once again but this time Mars decided to bring in his secret weapon. Grasping his hilt in his free hand he brought it about where the marine wasn't looking and thwacked him in the back of the head. "Behave!" He announced grandiosely as the marine tilted forward dazed. Then in quick succession Mars laid the man out with a sweep at the legs and the cane swinging back in and poking him directly in the sternum with force.

His eyes turned back up at the sound of the revolutionary girl's voice. A smile crossed his face again as his mind processed her words realizing she was asking for help. "Are you certain you want this ... how'd you say it? Pie Rat's help?" He asked mockingly as he looked to the marine she was embattled with.

"Well never say this swordsman never aided a lady in need." He said with a flamboyant overplayed sigh. Charging in towards the jitte holding marine he stumbled in his drunkedness. By a stroke of luck the stumble sent him tumbling down under a wide swing of the jitte which might've cracked him across the chest. Instead he tumbled to the ground rolling as he did. Aware of his sudden luck he played into the tumble. As his hand met the ground he levered himself against them. Twisting up with his leg outstretched he slammed it into this new marine. Knocking him back slightly before losing all semblance of balance and falling to the ground. He shivered as his body touched the cold ground all over.

The marine staggered backwards a few feet from the force of the kick but quickly held his footing much better than Mars had. Mars finding himself laying upon the ground felt unwilling to get up. "There, helped! You got the rest right, revo?" He said amused as he struggled slightly to bring himself to even a sitting up position in the moment.

[viruswithshoes]

To the people gathering to watch the altercation, it probably seemed more than a little pathetic that all four of the combatants were splayed out on the cold Ice-Nine ground in some of slapstick parody of the kind of fights that gained Marines, pirates, and revolutionaries alike reputations that held others in awe. At least one of the devotees of street violence found the the ordeal lacking in spectacle and turned from the gathering crowd in search of more discerning violent delights.
"Lame."

Somehow Shade managed to crawl upward into a crouching position only pause once eye-to-eye with the Marine who did the same. The enforcer of law glared at the breaker of them and soon found himself trying to think two moves ahead. Shade thought one ahead and awkwardly slashed at the wooden jitte with barely enough strength to bisect the former tree and current broken weapon.
"Looks like you lost your wood and here I am all ready for you."
Shade's bleeding but smiling face didn't have the look of mockery she wished but succeeded in intimidating the Marine who dropped his jitte and took a moment to ponder his action. It was that same tendency to stop and think that allowed Shade to simply act. Acting by reaching her left hand back and thrusting her sword in his direction, resulting in trip to the ground via her air thrust technique. A method of travel Shade had yet to find a supporter of.

Perhaps it was the night air or the alcohol, then again, the head wound seemed like a possible culprit, but at the moment Mars the pirate didn't seem quite as vile as before. She held out her sheathed katana for him to grab onto in order to pull him up.
"I'm Shade. No hard feelings?" She grinned at the man who kissed her. "If you have hard feelings that's something you'll have to deal with yourself since I don't do the horizontal thing with crew. Welcome to the revos."

[Flame]

Still feeling annoyingly weak he glanced up at the revolutionary as she introduced herself. He smiled back readying himself to respond in kind, but she cut him off before he could. But as she was holding out the sheath of her weapon in aid he decided to take it. Grasping it firmly in hand he pulled himself awkwardly to his feet. Yawning slightly he returned a crude grin while mulling over what she said and an 'appropriate' response.

Deciding on one he responded first in kind. "My name is Mars, Mars Lizst." He did so with a slight dip of his his upper body, he didn't feel the need for a full bow, but this was the least of courtesies he felt necessary. Besides he wasn't going to be quite as courteous with his following comments, so starting off on a good foot was probably for the best.

"Hrrm what a mess."

Came the voice interrupting Mars before he had the chance to speak. Annoyed by the next interruption Mars whirled unsteadily towards the new source. Raising a blade alongside his voice he began to speak "Youu dare inter-" he stopped as he looked upon the speaker. A bear of a man, he stood at the least taller than Mars by maybe a head. His arms and legs like trunks were covered by hair, as was his chest which was clearly visible from beneath a soaked white button-up. Mars' eyes scanned over them an at speed, upon his shoulder he could see the white jacket hung lazily upon it signifying his rank.

At least a commissioned officer he walked with a lazy gait. All the same he was a frightening man, this Mars could feel in his bones, the presence with which he held himself was amazing to see. From behind him the sputtering voice of the marine he had knocked down came to life. "Lieutenant!!" he yelled. The marine on the ground helplessly wriggled towards him. Below his outcry could be heard others, like whispers from the crowd which was milling about a fair distance away. 'The Polar Bear' they were whispering, apart from his upper body of white clothing and the excessive hair Mars could not really see the connection. But then what did he know.

Looking to the revolutionary lady, he noted she was not in much better condition than himself. Biting his lip he looked around, it seemed unlikely both of them would escape from this. Stepping back he grabbed a single hand of hers in his own. "No hard feelings. But just so you know, I'm neither a revolutionary nor part of your crew." With a pull he lurched her body toward his own and embraced her lips in his once again. "I'm a swashbuckler and a thief." He winked bravely. "That means I take what I want, and protect those I wish to protect. Now run!" He stepped back again flinging her arm away from him and turned on the marine. Grasping hilt in one hand and sheath in the other he marched forward to meet him.

"Protecting your girlfriend? Hmph, how noble. However it seems today's not your day fool." The burly man said as he placed brass knuckles upon his fists. "Attacking a marine, unwanted rowdiness, these are punishable offenses."

Though slightly unbecoming of him Mars' only response was obvious. Gathering a nice wad of saliva in his mouth he spit it with a nice ptui onto the ground near the marine's feet. "Rend!" He announced as he swung his blade down causing a thin blade of air to form and cut its way toward the marine lieutenant. The marine looked at it with mild interest, before crashing his two brass knuckles together right before it and instantly dissipating the blade. Mars looked on in disbelief. "Not bad, but you're not there yet fool."

With a step the officer was on him, Mars was surprised to note that the burly man was quite dexterous and fast on his feet. A match for Mars no doubt, especially in his slightly addled state. Courses of adrenaline were aiding in his concentration but Mars was unable to dodge the next punch. Layering wooden cane and blade together he caught the fist in the cross-section of both. The force of the blow sent him reeling backwards. Both feet stumbling back.

Without a second to breath the bear of a man was upon him again. No time to recover Mars hurriedly stumbled about dodging the flurry of blows the marine layered one upon the other. Finally in the midst of a momentary pause Mars saw his chance. His feet already layered in the right position he managed to glance aside the incoming knuckles. Then lunging forward with his opposite foot he aimed his sheath straight into the breast of the marine. "Nice try." The marine said looking at him with a grin. Amazingly stepping below the thrust the man rippling with muscles slammed his free hand straight into Mars' sternum.

Liftoff was immediate, Mars thankfully grasping his weapon was thrown back through the air like a rocket. His eyes closed as he swung to near unconsciousness, pain rippled through him roaring like a lion. Crashing into a stone building a few meters was the final straw and it all went black. His weapons dropped from his hands and his body crumpled limply to the ground.

[viruswithshoes]

It's the sensible thing to do, Shade told herself. You're wounded and drunk and he's just some pirate who can't keep his tongue to himself. Heal, sober up and live to fight another day. That's what Ramiel would tell you.

Shade's "run" looked more like a mid-speed lurch which still managed to get the revolutionary shipwright to nearly the end of the block by ducking in and out of alleyways. She knew she could find a place to hide among the shipyards and stowing away on a ship she helped build was no challenge at all. She'd been saved by an unknown pirate's sense of chivalry and it seemed rude to go back and make Mars' sacrifice for nothing.
It was indeed the wise and cautious thing to do. Pragmatism never killed anybody, as her Skypien mentor Ramiel used to say.

Since being trapped in the North Blue with her cell of revolutionaries dead or missing and no vessel, Shade had more often listened to the voice in her head that told her when she was being foolish. That voice screamed at her to keep on and get as far away from trouble as she could. Though, it was another voice that troubled the normally non-conflicted young swordswoman.
"I take what I want, and protect those I wish to protect. Now run!"

Low stamina gave way to high adrenaline which put some extra speed into Shade's pained locomotion. By the time she had come back Mars seemed to have been splattered on the side of a building like a macabre painting. For a moment she feared he was no longer among the living but there was slight rise and fall of his chest that alleviated that fear.

The Polar Bear slowly advanced toward Shade, the pace of which told her that her Marine adversary didn't think much of her. The crowd of people gathered to watch the formidable officer rid the island of another two offenders. Shade hurriedly slipped on her two brown gloves whose former lives were that of flintlock pistols. In their current form they were now stylish as well as deadly. She pointed her left index finger at the hirsute lawman and fired her glove/pistol, only to have the projectile batted away by metallic knuckles. Shade had only one shot left. Rather than aim at the white-wearing monstrosity before her, the worried gun-woman shot at one of the marines who was already down and could not deflect anything.

It was terrible and unforgivable to shoot an already defeated man, but this was a terrible time. The Polar Bear would have to choose between focusing on the two criminals or saving the life of his comrade.
"I think I bought us a couple of minutes, Mars."
As it turned out, the ursine uniformed man placed more value in the lives of his men than the deaths of two drunken brawlers. Shade doubted he would forget that she had shot one of his men which motivated her to drag Mars's heavy form as far as she could and as fast as she could.

As far as she knew, The Revolutionary Army had no prospects on Ice Nine Shade could take advantage of. The leader of her cell probably mentioned safe havens and contacts once they reached the North Blue but as always, she paid them no mind. Even after most of the crew had perished the optimistic young woman assumed that such things were someone else's responsibility as long as she kept the ship afloat and slashed those who needed it. Now she was her own cell and there was a crisis of leadership and staff.

Back alleys had mercifully connected the one-woman cell to the depressing squalor of Slush Town and that expanse of ash and misery brought tears and mucous of joy to the freckled face of Shade Muramasa. If burned out cellars were beri she'd be Celestial Dragon rich.

There was movement in the rubble other than two drunks running afoul of the law but homeless squatters in a barren wasteland were nothing if not discreet and no friends of the law. What Shade first assumed were piles of ash turned out to be simply dirty humans who just wanted things to blow over, helped Shade carry Mars' unconscious form into what used to be a wine cellar, sans wine, not that the beleaguered inebriates needed anything more to drink.

[Flame]

The landing, the shock of it, of his body slamming into the ground was what did it. Unsettling Mars' consciousness it gave the first bite of what was in store for the red-haired man. Like the simultaneous cacophony of a sound all of his nerves had a word to get in. Pain, aching pain from everywhere, all over the place, it came pounding in like a waterfall. Subconscious reaction to the sudden influx of pain elicited a groan. Rumbling from his throat it echoed out of small openings between his lips.

Bouncing as it did, it was soon turned back by the walls of the wine cellar. The returning sound struck his ears rousing him a little more from the brink of unconsciousness. He let out another pained groan and his body restlessly rolled upon the hard stone floor. As he did his head bumped upon something, affecting him more than anything else the feeling of wood rather than stone upon the forehead was interesting. Alongside that came the rustle of jostling bottles as they shifted from the impact. The lingering smell of wine attached to his nose, its sweet aroma rousing him a little more.

Finally his eyes slipped open uuuuuu~ it hurts arms and legs stiffened as the pain became all too real for him. Before him was darkness, or actually it was a little too gray for darkness. The smoothed stone surface beneath was darkened by his shadow overhanging it. A soft sniff was all it took, the smell of wine was more real to him from before. Entrancing his nostrils a little strength was rewarded to him. With his body still throbbing from the pain Mars carefully began to flip himself back onto his rump. The treacherous turn was troubled by his somewhat weakened constitution, but with a hard thump that sent reverberations through him Mars managed to land unceremoniously upon his butt.

Weakly he turned his head to look upon his battered body. For the most part it was invisible under clothing though the redness proving its bruising was almost palpable to him. The only real signs of it were his arms which were soaked red as if blood had stained them. As his eyes scanned down his body he suddenly realized something was missing. Leaning his body tenderly against the racks of wine he reached about with his hands. No where! .... Where ... he thought back, the last thing he remembered was being hit. Blacking out, but then where ... Did I drop ... wait wait ... why am I ... here? The question turned in his mind.

He had been defeated, the expectation was he'd be put in a cell. So why was he in this wine cellar. And where was his cane staff? Eyes now hurriedly scanned about the perimeter until he noted that woman was also in the cellar. What was her name again? I know she told it to me ... He paused unsure of how to call out to her, the name on the tip of his tongue finally came to him. "Oi Shade!" He yelled in a voice much softer than he imagined it would be. "Where are we?? What happened?? Where's my sword!!?!?" He asked all his questions at once, no singular answer would do, he needed to know all three at once. He needed answers, and needed to regain his sword.