Mission #4: (Virus/Firefox)

[Firefox33]

The sound of birds and the scent of the sea filled the air as Clermont stood on a small rock. Taking one more good look at the ocean before turning and walking towards the giant tree in the middle of the island.
"Where did he say that the building was again?"
Clermont asked himself as he took out a small map of the island with a building marked on it. He looked at his compass before changing his direction to a more accurate route. So far he had run into a very small amount of the so called "primitive" people who lived on the small island. He hadn't had any contact with them but had overheard a few of their passing conversations. Long story short what he had heard about these native people seemed to be little more than just another far fetched sailors tale. Lost in his thoughts Clermont failed to realize just how close he had really come to his destination. As a matter of fact he was almost completely there. He had found the small wooden shack that served as a temporary home for the man who contacted him. This man being a photographer for a very popular newspaper was here to take pictures for said newspaper. However this man had recently fallen ill and had gone so far as to inquire help from two strangers who weren't even natives on the island. But of course this was the entire reason why Clermont was here on this island. There was just one more thing to do before Clermont could enter the building. So now he would just have to wait to find out who his job partner was.

[viruswithshoes]

As tabloid newspapers went Spyglass, wasn't the worst employer, but the very occupation of tabloid photographer put Zenit's respect well below that of marines, pirates, and the average barfly. Alas, it was these seedy photography jobs that helped fund his travels through the South Blue and, he hoped, beyond the Grand Line. He wanted to take photos of incredible things people had not seen before, not snapping pics of pirates and their wardrobe malfunctions.

In the lean times of the paper Spyglass would pay for a interesting photos and construct a story around it. Zenit didn't need to look at his paltry payment to see that this was one of those lean times.

A surprisingly well-built assemblage of tree roots and vines made up the island's temporary branch of Spyglass. Hasselblad Concord, the paper's main photographer, and Zenit's almost-mentor in the realm of photography has succumbed to the local food and water and rested inside.

The short photographer made a mental checklist of the weapons he carried with him when he noticed a significantly taller and much more intimidating man in front of the building. As he got closer to the man an Zenit's perspective changed, the bald, gun enthusiast brushed his left hand over the, black, semi-automatic revolver in the holster on his left hip and gripped the strap holding his sniper rifle tighter. A cute and furry, but keen observer of danger, poked it's little head out of the breast pocket of Zenit's long, white, hooded coat. Kilmister, the lemming, glared at Clermont from under it's diminutive black hat festooned with an even smaller skull and crossbones cast in dull, scuffed, metal.

The lemming scurried from Zenit's pocket to his shoulder and then down the length of his outstretched arm and took a closer look at Clermont before taking a place on the bald man's shoulder.
Zenit rotated his outstretched arm and opened his palm in order to warily shake the cyborg's hand. He shared his pet's intimidation, but that held to most people who dwarfed him.
"Hi. Zenit Basqiat. I'm the photographer."

The black-eyed photographer adjusted his dark, round, sunglasses upon entering the shack which was lit with enough burning oil lamps and dials to make Zenit keep the exit in mind to escape a fiery doom when something is knocked over.
"You look like hell, Concord."

A wheezing, gray-haired man managed to work a laugh into his coughing and a raised middle finger into covering that cough.
"Got some damn giant bird flu. What's your excuse?"
"Haven't grown into my looks yet?"
The two bantering photographers traded a few more insults and small talk, business was conducted.

Through a seemingly endless series of coughs and phlegm spitting, the sick photographer outlined the simple theme of the shoot. "Man versus nature, boys. The modern age fighting the past. Cyborgs against mother nature's fiercest killing machines, that sort of thing."

Zenit looked over his sunglasses into Clermont's face with an unsure expression.
"Have you ever done any modelling before?"

[Firefox33]

Not long after his initial arrival at the makeshift structure Clermont noticed a man approaching him. He was obviously the one who he was going to be working with judging by his appearance alone. As soon as the man got close enough he outstretched his arm to shake hands.

"Hi. Zenit Basqiat. I'm the photographer."



Clermont reached out with his gloved hand to shake Zenit's hand.

"Nice to meet you, the names Clermont Fulton."

He said as he opened the poorly made door allowing himself and Zenit to enter it. Upon entering the building Clermont realized this build was built using mainly the roots of the island's giant tree. It was made with the roots as the main structure with much less wood having been built in to it. Clermont was slightly dazed by the fact that people actually managed to build a structure using the roots of a tree.



Zenit said something which immediately made Clermont shift his attention, to the other person in the room. The other person was a gray-haired, man who looked like he had seen way better days. The man laughed between his loud coughing before he began to speak. The two photographers exchanged some small talk leading Clermont to believe they knew each other. Though it took some time it seemed the two of them finally began to talk about business.



"Man versus nature, boys. The modern age fighting the past. Cyborgs against mother nature's fiercest killing machines, that sort of thing." As soon as the older male finished this statement Clermont began to realize why he was requested for this job. They needed him a cyborg to fight against some fierce creature to get some pictures. Normally this sort of thing would have worried Clermont, but he was actually happy about taking these pictures. He saw it as a way to spread his name, and hopefully find a crew with whom he could sail the seas.



He was soon snapped out of his thoughts by zenit asking him a question.

"Have you ever done any modelling before?"

He could see the worry on his face and responded with a smile trying to lighten the mood.

"I cant say I have. However I think I can handle this just fine." He replied before asking his own question.

"Where to first?" he asked both Zenit and the old man at the same time.

[viruswithshoes]

Typically, Zenit worked alone, not counting his lemming associate Kilmister when it came to photography. There were sometimes models to work with but they were more like human scenery to be moved and adjusted until the shot was staged perfectly.
Zenit hated staged photography, it was why he was not the first choice of the Spyglass's photographers. Some said that his verite style of photography lacked drama.
"Let's go scout, then. Maybe we'll find a good spot by magic hour."

It took a few minutes of walking before Zenit realized that Clermont may no be up on his photography lingo.
"That's that perfect time when the sun sets or rises and bathes everything in this wonderfully ethereal, golden glow. Great time for photos. Every man looks as tough as Whitebeard and every woman looks like Boa Hancock."

Simply by looking in Clermont's direction and blinking Zenit activated his devil fruit power and took mental photos of his new partner.
"This is going to sound like pretentious artist stuff, but I'd like to get to know you a bit before the shoot starts. Tell me about yourself."

Kilmister the small, brown lemming wearing a skull-decorated cowboy hat sensed the birds around and hid in Zenit's pocket while the bald man scanned the area with his zoomed in vision for the right location.
"Would you mind holding still for a second, Mister Fulton?"

Zenit walked away from the lanky cyborg, took the silver revolver from the holster on his right hip and fired a round into the air, scaring off the local birds. The photos he took made Clermont look as if he were being engulfed in birds at sunset.

The devil-fruit using shutterbug then took a small stack of blank playing cards from his pocket and printed the photos he had taken at that instant, then handed them to Clermont.
"What do you think? Dramatic and imposing? Demi-godlike?"

As a man who despised posing, Zenit remained taking photos of Clermont in a natural state with every blink of the eyes behind his round sunglasses.

[Firefox33]

Clermont wasn't really sure what he would be doing when it came to photography. He had figured he would do fine, but how could he be sure. Upon leaving the building Clermont's head was filled with many different thoughts. However he was knocked back down to Earth as Zenit began to speak.

"Let's go scout, then. Maybe we'll find a good spot by magic hour."



He wasn't sure what Zenit meant by "magic hour" but he had faith that he was a good photographer. Just before he had the chance to ask him about the strange phrase he had used. Zenit took it upon himself to explain it.

"That's that perfect time when the sun sets or rises and bathes everything in this wonderfully ethereal, golden glow. Great time for photos. Every man looks as tough as Whitebeard and every woman looks like Boa Hancock."



"Sounds interesting" Clermont said looking at the sun for a moment before looking back at the ground. He had been staying relatively silent. He decided to stay out of Zenit's way, and let him do what needed to be done. Clermont figured it would be for the best to let someone with experience handle this.

"This is going to sound like pretentious artist stuff, but I'd like to get to know you a bit before the shoot starts. Tell me about yourself."



Clermont thought this was a strange request coming from the photographer. Though it did seem to be a good idea to get to know each other better. Besides who knew how long it would take for them to get enough good pictures. Worst case scenario they could be working together for weeks.

"I'm sure you already know this but I'm a cyborg. I've lived all of my life on Silver Island. My mother Judith was there when she became pregnant so she stayed. When I was a teenager I was in a mine explosion. That's the reason I am why I am. I owe it all to that old man. A man named Dr.Rikkyu saved me by turning me into a steam cyborg." He said taking off his hat and revealing his pipes. They played a chord as he expelled steam from them in an act of show.

"Would you mind holding still for a second, Mister Fulton?"



"Of course." He said courteously as Zenit progressed a little further. He watched as the man took out his revolver, and shot up in the air. All the birds previously hidden in the trees began to fly as the shot rang through the air. From where Clermont was standing it looked like it might be a good photo opportunity. He noticed that Zenit took out blank playing cards making images of Clermont appear on them. He then showed them to Clermont.

"What do you think? Dramatic and imposing? Demi-godlike?"



"There amazing! How did you take them without using a camera?" He asked amazed at the talent of the photographer.

"Where do you think would be a good place to take pictures next?" He asked curious of what amazing picture Zenit would take next.

[viruswithshoes]

"Amazing? Well..." Devil fruit peculiarities left the young photographer unable to pull of a subtle blush and saving his masculinity but emitted a light from his shaved head which he was sure wasn't charming in the slightest. Then again, his model was a steam-powered cyborg.
"Uh, thanks. Sea devils. Thanks to them I'm a human camera."

Zenit pulled up the hood of his thin, white overcoat partially due to the cold air starting to blow now that evening had fallen but mostly to cover up his glowing head.
"Anyway, any time I blink I take a mental photo and I can print it out on whatever solid thing I touch." He plucked a leaf off a nearby tree as he pushed it out of his way while trekking through a wooded area and printed a photo he had taken while blinking in the direction of a bikini-clad beauty one day years ago. He handed the small, chlorophyll-filled cheesecake photo to his towering companion.
"Not much use in a fight but at least I can recall the face of every person who ever beat me up with total clarity." He gave a wry smile and and smirked. "At least there's that."

"Now being a steam-cyborg-machine-person...that sounds neat. Does this mean your clothes never wrinkle or you can cook inside of your stomach or something like that?"
The timid young man grimaced at his choice of question.
"Sorry. I get kinda inappropriate when I'm nervous...or not nervous. I'm just not good with talking to people is what I'm saying. I didn't come from a social family."

When it came to anything not pertaining to photographs Zenit's memory was sorely lacking. Many names and facts were seemingly lost in the dark abyss of his memory hole. He head since learned that photographing written things bypass his handicap some of the time. Hasselblad, his senior photographer, had made copious notes about some of the birds of the island and one in particular piqued Zenit's curiosity.

"Thousands are sailing
Across the Western Ocean
To a land of opportunity
That some of them will never see
Fortune prevailing
Across the Western Ocean
Their bellies full
And their spirits free
They'll break the chains of poverty
And they'll dance to the music and they'll dance to the music."

Zenit felt like an idiot singing and the Celestial Dragon of Idiots when he began to dance to his own singing. As always, the black-eyed photographer shunned asking his model to do anything and always kept a lens pointed at Clermont for just the right moment.

Shortly into his second repeat of 'Thousands Are Sailing', the birds hiding in the darkness repeated the lyrics verbatim in their chirpy bird voices. To Zenit's annoyance they did not copy his dancing. It seemed that he had fallen prey to a practical joke by the author of his notes.

All of Clermont's reactions were recorded in the hope that the intimidating cyborg would dance.

[Firefox33]

"Amazing? Well..." The photographer said as his forehead began to shine. Clermont could only guess why that had happened. Though being who he was he had no right to judge him.
"Uh, thanks. Sea devils. Thanks to them I'm a human camera."

"The power of a devil's fruit? I've only heard of them I didn't think id ever meet someone who ate one." Clermont said as Zenit put his hood on. As the sun went down a cold wind began to blow. Luckily for Clermont his body was always kept at a warm temperature. With hot steam inside his body he wasn't one to get cold easy.
"Anyway, any time I blink I take a mental photo and I can print it out on whatever solid thing I touch."

Clermont watched as he plucked a small leaf off a tree. He then printed a picture on it and showed it to Clermont. He took the picture which was of a woman wearing a bikini. He was surprised even a leaf could be a canvas for a picture.
"Not much use in a fight but at least I can recall the face of every person who ever beat me up with total clarity. At least there's that."

Clermont placed his hat over his heart and looked up from the picture his colorless eyes seeming to shine.
"The power to print out pictures of and remember each beautiful girl you meet. If only I had the ability to do this. MY LIFE WOULD BE COMPLETE!" The cyborg said yelling the last part as steam shot from the pipes on his head.

"Now being a steam-cyborg-machine-person...that sounds neat. Does this mean your clothes never wrinkle or you can cook inside of your stomach or something like that?" The photographer said bringing Clermont back down to Earth.

"Well not exactly..." Clermont stated surprised by the strangeness of that question.
"Sorry. I get kinda inappropriate when I'm nervous...or not nervous. I'm just not good with talking to people is what I'm saying. I didn't come from a social family."

"It's fine at least you didn't scream when you first met me. That's better than most people..." He stated taking on a serious tone towards the end. Though it was a strange thing to say it was largely true. Most of the people who frequented the tavern enjoyed his music, but they always made sure to keep their distance. One did earn the nickname the Steam Monster, because one person was scared of you. Now that he thought about it this was the most social interaction he's had with another person. Excluding Matsuhiko of course he was the only person in all of Silver Island that wasn't scared of him. Soon however Clermont shifted his focus to Zenit as he began to sing.

"Thousands are sailing

Across the Western Ocean

To a land of opportunity

That some of them will never see

Fortune prevailing

Across the Western Ocean

Their bellies full

And their spirits free

They'll break the chains of poverty

And they'll dance to the music and they'll dance to the music."

Soon after Zenit had begun to sing birds emerged from their hiding places among the trees. They began to sing along in strange voices one would expect from talking birds. Clermont felt as if he had recognized this song from somewhere. However he certainly couldn't remember any lyrics or dance moves. Luckily he was never one much for dancing or singing. He was more about playing the music using his signature instrument. He rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, and pressed a small button. What was once his colorless metal arm unfolded into two rows keys seemingly belonging to a piano, or organ. He took of his hat with his left hand once again revealing the set of pipes stationed atop his head. Setting the hat gently on the ground his hand then reached for the keys. It moved swiftly back and forth the keyboard lightly pressing on each key carefully and concisely. He began to play along to the song being sung by Zenit, and the birds. Clouds of steam shot out of the organ pipes atop his head. Each pipe creating it own unique note as steam rushed through it. Clermont smiled as he buried himself in the one thing he loved most. Playing music for a crowd was the one thing that made him feel human again.

[viruswithshoes]

He'd never known he wanted one until then, but the photo he had taken of Clermont rapturously playing music in the dark with a huge smile became one of his new favorites.

Despite being able to take photos in the dark, Zenit's night vision was nothing to speak of, much less since he refused to abandon the round sunglasses that he self-consciously used to hide his black eyes. Prolonged use of his night photography tended to cause headaches and dizziness that the shutterbug preferred to avoid.

When the music died down and the dull brown and gray colored birds mimicry moved on from music to insect noised to lure in their prey. Shortly after Zenit lit a small fire with a cigarette lighter on of the birds had hopped over to him making the same clicking sound as the flint of the flint wheel of the lighter striking the steel to make a spark. For a few minutes the lemming Zenit kept with him chased the bird around the fire as the bird swooped in and out of range forcing the rodent to scurry up and down trees in order to participate in their game of tag.
As they did Zenit began contemplating a second animal companion.

"What are your plans after this, Clermont?"
Once his cyborg companion expressed his plans Zenit felt more comfortable elaborating on his own.
"I think I might give the Grand Line a shot. My dad was a pirate and never got that far. I think he'd be proud of I could at least get there. I hear there are incredible things there. Being able to photograph it sound amazing...you know, if I don't end up killed by pirates or eaten by a sea king." He laughed at the prospect of his own death which the bird mimicked.

When a gun shot that didn't sound anything like the two precious guns Zenit had taken with him sounded Zenit sat up in a slight daze after almost falling asleep.
"Damn. The birds have guns now." He didn't do his best thinking after waking suddenly.

[Firefox33]

Clermont didn't even realize that the sun had fallen until he had finished playing. He could always focus on his instrument no matter what was happening around him. He learned over the course of many nights working a tavern that it was an important skill. Now it was just a part of his life anytime he played the organ. He found it easy to get lost in the music which made him play extremely well in all conditions.

When the song ended the birds began to imitate the many chirping bugs in the area. One of the birds began to imitate the sound of Zenit's lighter as he made a campfire. Clermont sat across from Zenit exhausted from playing so much. He took a drink from a canteen of water he had been carrying around his waist. Luckily he had filled it fully before departing, and had saved it for when he'd need it.
"What are your plans after this, Clermont?"

"I want to get as far away from the Silver Islands as I can." He said quickly. "After that well... I suppose id like to become a pirate. I figure it would be the best way to find my mother. Even if it takes me going to the Grand Line I'm sure ill find her." Clermont had thought about it many times before this. Firstly he wanted to get, and stay away from that island. More importantly he wanted to find his mother. Soon after he had finished talking Zenit began to lay out his plans for the future.


I think I might give the Grand Line a shot. My dad was a pirate and never got that far. I think he'd be proud of I could at least get there. I hear there are incredible things there. Being able to photograph it sound amazing...you know, if I don't end up killed by pirates or eaten by a sea king."

Clermont laughed along with Zenit. "Lets just hope beautiful lady luck is on our side when we get there my friend." He said right before a gunshot rang out in the jungle. Almost immediately it was clear to him that the gun was close. However it didn't sound like it came from his companion's weapon.

"Damn. The birds have guns now." Clermont almost laughed at the strange comment Zenit had made. Sadly the seriousness of the current situation didn't allow such an act of joy. Suddenly a flock of birds flew out of the trees cawing wildly as another gunshot rang out. Clermont stood up realizing whoever was shooting those guns was trying to shoot the birds.
"We should try to get them to stop before they injure one of the birds or us."

He began to walk toward the source of the noise as another shot rang out. This time he heard the bullet hit something. Luckily it had only hit a tree a few feet away from him. He looked at the tree before turning to face Zenit.
"I think we have to options here. We can try to talk to them, and get them to stop... Or we could start a fight. If their poachers I don't think they'd like us telling them to stop. However there also armed so it wouldn't be simple if we got into a fight. If you don't mind id like your opinion before we make a decision." He said seriously. He had met poachers before at the tavern he worked in. Long story short they weren't the kindest of people.

[viruswithshoes]

There weren't many poachers around when Zenit was growing up on Pirate's Market. The fauna there was either too mundane to bother with or too poisonous to eat. Smugglers would often bring in exotic meat from different places but Zenit had never seen a poacher in person before. As it turned out they weren't impressively tall or ugly. Sure, the three men and one woman all towered over the diminutive photographer but were not more intimidating than the average person..until he noticed their guns equipped with night vision scopes.

The proud sniper bit back any sharp comments about only poor gunmen needing scopes.
"Good night." The bald, bespectacled man grimaced and moaned at his lame start. "Name's Zenit, this is Clermont. Uh, we're trying to get some photos shot here, and you know, not gun shots. So...if you could not shoot any of the birds or us that'd be really swell. Who likes getting shot, right? It really, really hurts."
He reflexively touched his left shoulder where he had once been shot by one of the harpoon rounds he used for self defense.

The behatted lemming that acted as the young devil-fruit user's courage and survival instinct communicated via squeaks that this was not the time for diplomacy. While there was no actual lemming-to-human translation involved, they were very insistent squeaks which seemed to mean danger. When Zippo the bird landed on Zenit's bald head with its' uncomfortably sharp clawed feet and began clicking at the strange humans the danger finally sunk in. Animal instincts beat human ones ever time.

"Well, looks it's time for me to turn in. Stuff to do and-Close your eyes then run!" Zenit hoped that Clermont was the one to listen to him rather than the poachers as he let out a flash of light from his head, temporarily blinding the poachers as well as himself in the process by not closing his eyes and ran as fast as he could until the first obstacle knocked him down.

Bright globs of light had to vanish before Zenit could see that he had run barely out of spitting distance from the poachers and well within the range of their guns.

[Firefox33]

Clermont walked next to Zenit as the two cautiously approached the poachers. As it was getting darker it was getting harder for Clermont to see long distances. While the cyborg enhancements in his eyes made it slightly easier he still struggled to make out the group. Four people armed one appeared to be a woman the others were most likely men. They themselves didn't appear intimidating, but their guns were another story. While he didn't know guns in the slightest it didn't take an expert to see it. The scopes on the guns seemed high-end and expensive, but who would expect less from a group of poachers. Especially ones willing to shoot birds on this island known for its birds.


"Good night." Clermont pulled the tip of his hat down slightly over his eyes as Zenit began to speak. "Name's Zenit, this is Clermont. Uh, we're trying to get some photos shot here, and you know, not gun shots. So...if you could not shoot any of the birds or us that'd be really swell. Who likes getting shot, right? It really, really hurts." Clermont was worried over how the poachers would take this comment.


His worry only got worse when both Zenit's bird, and lemming began to make worried noises. He then noticed the body language of two of the poachers. While hard to see in the dark he noticed the cold stare the gave Zenit. Their fingers twitching slightly as if ready to fire at any moment. Over time working in the tavern he had begun to pickup on body queues. It was especially easy if the person he was watching was drunk or angry. Clermont changed his stance slightly getting ready to run or fight depending on their actions.


"Well, looks it's time for me to turn in. Stuff to do and-Close your eyes then run!" Clermont barely picked up on the end of that sentence before light started coming from Zenit. He closed his eyes as he began to turn to his left. He figured his best bet was to make it to the trees in order to close in on the enemy without getting shot. He ran with his eyes closed as the flash of light illuminated the clearing. He tripped on an exposed tree root, and fell right into a bush. Upon opening his eyes he saw what was left of the light fade away. He then noticed Zenit had fallen on the ground still in range of the poachers. If they recovered before him the could easily deliver a fatal or extremely damaging shot. Clermont began to run back out into the open straight to Zenit. He was never one to let his friend get injured, and do nothing to prevent it.


"Get to the tree line!" He shouted as he ran in between Zenit, and the group. When he was just feet away he heard a shot ring out from the other side of the clearing. He dove in front of Zenit crossing his arms over his body pulling his legs slightly to his stomach. While his arms, and legs being metal could take a beating the rest of his body was normal. A well placed shot could easily kill him. Moving his arms, and legs as he did decreased the amount of exposed weak spots on his body.


He felt an impact on his left forearm right before he hit the ground. Unluckily for him their guns proved strong enough to damage his arm slightly. A spray of steam coming from his arm was proof enough. Though not fatal or worrying he would have to rely on his right arm for pressurized steam attacks. Not to mention a constant stream of steam going right in his face reduced visibility.


"Are you okay Zenit?" Clermont asked while removing the bullet from his metal arm. The poachers were shocked seeing him remove the bullet like nothing from his arm. Though they had shot many animals, and been all around the South Blue. They had never seen a cyborg before though that wasn't really a surprise to Clermont.


"Look what you did to my shirt!" Clermont said with a groan looking at the small bullet hole in his shirt. "Your definitely going to have to pay for that." He said taking off his gloves, and hat placing them gently on the ground. Rolling up his sleeves he opened up his organ. He then bowed to his enemies pointing the pipes on his head in their direction. "Muro Bruciante!" He yelled slamming his hand down on the keys of the organ he shot a thick cloud of steam towards them. This created a thick cloud blocking out both Zenit, and Clermont from the enemy. Using the cover it would be safe for both of them to make their next move.

[viruswithshoes]

Instinct was a funny thing, Zenit noted. It told him to get to his feet and run away from the gunshots. His mind filled with being filled with both low and high caliber bullets but at the same time acknowledged that he was nowhere near fast enough to outrun a bullet.

Keeping calm under fire was important skill to a sniper and a photographer but that was a skill that his sharp-shooting mother could not train him for, as much as she tried. She could put him in danger but the young Basqiat knew his mother would not let him die. Zenit wished Sarin was the Basqiat these poachers faced but he knew that such a thing was a death sentence. It was their good fortune and Zenit's horrible fate that they faced the weakest member of that family.

Cybernetic limbs or flesh, when Clermont took a bullet for him Zenit's sense of honor had overridden his fear. The idea that the large cyborg would ask how he was doing cemented the idea of standing and fighting.

Just before the steam-powered bullet catcher could initiate his attack Zenit took a shot. The blink that acted as the photographer's shutter snapped and caught the amazing metal man in an action pose that was sure to see print...he would make sure of it.

Muzzles flashed in the steam that Clermont created, some of them from Zenit's revolvers. It was an idiotic ploy but fear made the young photographer foolish and he ran toward the nearest sounding gun shot. Rather than find instant gunpowder-propelled death he found a teen aged boy slightly younger than himself with light, violet hair, a terrified expression and worst of all a flintlock musket. Zenit actually felt some pity.

Flintlock muskets were something the young sniper felt he had outgrown. He had two revolvers at his hips, one of them a single-action that didn't even require cocking to fire. It made Zenit feel like a bully to shoot the teen with the purple fade haircut while he fumbled with the single shot weapon. The round in his silver, right-hand revolver was an impact round, only a change of a hands and the teen would have met a more permanent fate than waking up with an aching chest.

Then the steam cleared and Zenit decided that speed and stamina would be the better part of valor in this case.
"Let's run again!"

[Firefox33]

As the group was engulfed in steam Clermont rushed forward towards the group of poachers. As he ran through the steam he saw the flash of muzzles, and heard bullets whirring past him. Never the less he kept running until he finally came out of the side of the cloud. He then saw them the poachers. Upon closer inspection the youngest member appeared to be a teenager. Next there was a woman you could tell she had high tastes. However even in the woman loving eyes of Clermont she wasn't the most attractive woman. Next there were the two men one the same age as the woman, and the other slightly older.


Clermont had never really been one for fighting women so he decided to take out one of the men. He then spotted the one who had fired the bullet that hit him. It was time to get payback for his ruined shirt. He ran up to man picking him up by the collar of his shirt.


"I believe you're the one who ruined my shirt aren't you." He said with a fake smile as he delivered a quick punch to the man's stomach. Since he used his now weakened leaky left arm the punch wouldn't be enough to knock him out. He then used his stronger right arm to throw the man. He landed near a tree unconscious, or at least not strong enough to move anymore.

Clermont then heard Zenit say something after shooting the teen in the stomach with an impact round. "Let's run again." He heard the photographer say in the brief moment of silence. He decided that wasn't such a bad idea. He noticed The two remaining hunters pull out a different set of rifles. They appeared to be more advanced than the one he was shot with previously. If that was the case he certainly didn't want to get shot by one. The possibility or their weapons being able to make a hole in his metal body seemed likely.


He ran into the cover of the trees as the last traces of the steam faded. He knew if he could stay in the tree line he'd stay safe. The problem was in order to do real damage he would need to get close to them. How to do this without getting shot would require some strategy, and teamwork. However time was limited with the leak in his arm still going it was only a matter of time before he lost consciousness. So he began to work his way around the clearings edge in an attempt to find Zenit, and make a plan to take them down.

[viruswithshoes]

Camoflage usually meant wearing clothing that blended in with the scenery. For a man who could print that very scenery onto his coat it meant fewer odd looks when out in public.
He knew it was a trick that would only fool the youngest and simplest of children but Zenit had dealt with some dense people in the past who had been taken in by his disguise.

"Go get Clermont," the shaken photographer said from his safe-ish position beneath his coat of photographed forest and his lemming-partner obeyed with more courage.

There were only a few random shots from the remaining hunters and then silence which made the hat-wearing lemming speed up towards the steam-powered cyborg. The brave lemming squeaked to get the large, mechanical man to follow to the bald man hiding in his coat.

Rather than chasing the gunman and cyborg into a thick wooded area armed only with rudimentary hunting gear, Bellows Macrady the leader hunter adjourned to the arsenal stashed in his newly bought all-terrain jeep. He even honored the giant bird whose feathers, meat and bones bought him the vehicle by painting its' likeness on the hood.

"Looks like your compensating for something, Belly?" Said the brunette companion of Macrady gesturing to the elephant gun that stood as tall as either person. The younger and more feminine of the two Macrady siblings preferred her vest of small derringer guns. Many small, but stylish guns to one massive one.
"We're going to have to kill these men, yeah?"
"Beats getting thrown into some hellhole with pirates and revolutionaries. In order for us to survive, they can not."