Post by Lord Bromosalino on Jan 21, 2020 22:40:38 GMT -5
Whether it was from the sensation of being dragged along by a stranger or from his own injuries, Pluto's body seemed to tense, almost wrenching himself away from Isaac. The Marine, however, would not let go of the boy; fearing that if he slipped and fell into the dirty, wet cobblestone, the injuries in his abdomen would take the brunt of the force. And so he held on, almost hoisting his feet off the ground. Though he was silent, Pluto's face betrayed him; his furled eyebrows making it clearly known that it was the former feeling rather than the latter.
“Division?” The question seemed out of place to a Marine. There was almost a sense of pride and honor filled with being part of any division; and therefore, every Marine knew the which division they were a part of almost like they knew their own name. The numerical assignment, the more informal nickname, the divisional mascot, and every commanding officer. All of that was known, committed to memory, and held in high regard by every Marine. For example, Isaac Saifer was once a part of the 15th Marine Division, which was also known as the "Black Watch." He was the second in command as a Lieutenant Junior Grade and his direct superior was Captain Onoske. Isaac's own canine partner, Thor (who was currently stationed at Alabasta with his former Warrant Officer Caroline Amyot), served as their mascot: a menacing, black Doberman Pinscher.
As so the fact that Ara could not or would not name her division was another red flag for Isaac. Of course, the fact that this increasingly strange group of children were part of a covert or confidential group was not fully out of the realm of possibility; it would certainly justify their being on this island. It was, nonetheless, strange and concerning. Just who were they? “We were low on supplies and thought about restocking on this island," she stated, almost as if it was such an obvious response. If that was simply the case, it still did little to explain how or why this group was in the shape they were, especially Pluto.
As they entered the "Trocadero" bar, the smell of washed out linoleum and damp resin filled Isaac's nostrils, causing him to sneeze from the dust and debris. Though he once held an alcoholic addiction and had since quit, even he could not help admire what would and should have been a beautifully quaint establishment. The floor, though wet and worn, was made of a gorgeous red fern that still held much of its natural beauty. The cracked marble that made up the counter still shone despite the lack of care and patrons. Even among the many broken tables and chairs, a few expertly handcrafted oak tables and chairs remained. Isaac could not help but imagine what this place looked like at its height of business. It certainly was a shame.
Moving towards one such well made table, Isaac and Ara ushered Pluto towards one of the chair that remained intact. ”Isaac, thank you for helping us, but I’ll take care of him from here on. Pluto can be shy around strangers." As she said this however, both she and Rebecca immediately tucked themselves under the cloak that Pluto wore, preferring to instead work on keeping themselves warm rather than tend to Pluto's injuries. Head cocked to the side and surely a wondering and curious look on his face, Isaac again could not help but wonder just how concerned either Ara and Rebecca were for the young boy's injuries. And even though Rebecca whimpered and seemed worried, her question whether or not Pluto was "ok" did little to move her from under Pluto's warm presence.
"Are you sure? I'm somewhat competent with field medic work."
Tsk, all three of you are overreacting. I’m fine. I can stop the blood loss. The problem is that I don’t have the means to replenish my strength.”
Maybe it was because he sensed Rebecca and Ara's worry or due to a "to tough for your own good" attitude, Pluto, too, seemed to have little concern for his own injuries. "Well," began Isaac as he scratched his head, almost out of amusement, "I don't know about food. This place doesn't look like its been in use for at least several years. I guess I can take a look around." After several moments of looking around the bar and its backroom storage, two single bottles of brandy and a mere two loafs of rather stale pumpernickel bread were all that remained in the shabby "Trocadero." Handing the "haul" to the youngest looking of the trio, Isaac politely refused even a portion of the bread.
As he watched the three eat what little he had found, the thought that these young "children" were not Marines. Pluto's reference to the Rokushiki arts however was something could not be looked past. It was possibly nothing more than a gut feeling, but something about these three didn't add up. And so, Isaac pressed into that feeling; something about them screaming to Isaac that they were not who they claimed, even if ever so loosely, to be.
"So really, who are you people?"{OC Colors}
Saifer - #007299
Pluto - #8452bb
Rebecca - #00fffb
Ara - #ffdcbe