A Fateful Reencounter (Bucket and Bogs)

[mildofthewild]

Remulo Bogs - #1

[The following takes place a week after the encounter between Bukbuk the Bucket and Mr. 57 AKA Remulo Bogs in the Gray Terminal of the Goa Kingdom. After suffering immense injuries and learning of techniques far surpassing his current levels and abilities, Remulo has started taking new contracts that can aim to test his limits.]

Public space. Loud voices. Smacking of lips. Cheerful camaraderie. Heated debates. A loud din of utter enjoyment, excess, fawning and bossing around surrounds the Mr. 57 as he watches his target. 

A portly man. Around perhaps 40 or so. Looks to be a ship hand; the tone of his arms indicates manual labor, most likely has a fierce grip and hold that they're able to implement and swing around. This is complimented by a hefty appetite, as they dig in to a steaming Bruschetta chicken luncheon...more accurately, 2 Bruschetta luncheons, and a heaping portion of Carbonara. 

The man likes to fulfill appetites, Remulo notes, taking a sip of his Verdicchio and absently twirling his fork among the pasta pescatore. Of course, he had no idea if this was actually the correct wine pairing, nor if it really did bring out the flavors of his meal; in all honesty, he wasn't even that hungry. However, the staff was adamant he try the dish and pair it accordingly, and seeing how he had to fit in, he simply relented and took the plate. All things considered, it did taste very good, though this was the last thing on his mind. Remulo continues to study his new target, a hefty sum awaiting the head of this man. His new client had said something about the man having stolen from him or something or other; Remulo didn't pay too much attention to the details, something he had never made a habit of before. He simply couldn't help himself, recently; his mind was far too clouded by reminiscing on the Fishman from Goa Kingdom. Bukbuk.

He would return to Loguetown to tell his last client that he wouldn't be able to fulfill the contract on the Fishman, but he needed the coin to do so; he had been sailing from ship to ship, island to island, completing assortments of odd jobs, paying for his trips across the East Blue while his mind continues to sink further and further into utter realization. 

He has much to learn about the world at large if he is to be of any use going forward. He needs to step his skills up even further, take himself to the next level...and he knows that the Blues are steadily losing their ability to provide him with the means to obtain that level. The Grand Line...several of his clients and even quarries had said something about it being a dream. An expanse filled with challenges to test the mettle of those too weak to brave its waters. Should Remulo get stronger, he would need to find the means to survive those waters on his own...

[Smiley]

What to do after one gets so much money from looting some dipshit's unprotected vessel? Usually, Bucket just threw parties for the poor and have a lot of fun, however, this time, he turned out to be quite close to the Baratie, which was something he totally didn't expect, though it became obvious now that he thought about it. Lots of money on board and rich looking dummies on it? Probably coming for a feast or something like that.

Sucks to be them, the cool dude now owned that money and boy was he hungry: the sea can't feed him, it's just full of fishes! Yeah, sure, he's a fishman, not a fish, so they're not the same species, but it was almost like a human eating a chimp - can be done and some do it, though they are usually already poor and in desperate situations. 
They're not total bossmen with money to throw around. 
Like a creature from the depths - and for fucking once - Bucket climbed onto the Baratie instead of outright leaping from the sea and landing on it. 

After all, he may have a lot of energy, but the last thing ANY sensible person should do is piss off the people who make your food. After all, be a nuisance and they'll spit on it, piss them off and the fluids will just get worse. 

"I AM GOD DAMN STARVING!"
A thunderous, booming, deep and slightly gurgly voice penetrated the wooden walls of the floating restaurant, an all-too-familiar voice to Remulo and, possibly, some of the richer costumers who have had their stuff harassed by the same giant who, by that point, had bust right inside.

Carefully though, not damaging the door or the ceiling as he had to lower his head a good bit to actually go in.
"I want the menu, baby! I'm stacked in cash and my tum's empty!" 
Bucket spoke with a big smile in his anchor face, looking around for a spot where he could sit. Remulo, in his effort to look incognito and hidden, was alone! Besides, Bucket recognized him, so he obviously went over to him and pushed all other chairs aside, sitting down with legs crossed. 

Obviously, he was getting a lot of attention. All the better, it fed his endless ego.
"Hey, buddy friend! Here to satisfy the fighter's munchies too? Man, raiding ships sure has me hungry. Could barely think straight! So, what ya doing here?" Bucket asked, as if he didn't know or couldn't guess what Remulo was here for. Even if he was aware, he didn't care to stay hidden or, well, help his mission. After all, if Bucket screwed things up somehow, he could just grab the guy and be done with it. 

Unlike Remulo, Bucket is deeply scorned by the simple thought of being subtle.

[mildofthewild]

Remulo's body tenses up as he hears the boisterous calls of Bukbuk, though a bit of perturbation could be surmised if one were to look at the vein pulsing on his brow. His target looked up at the noise, and upon seeing the stoic and shadow inducing Remulo with the rather large and bristling Fishman, they obviously decided it'd be best to take their dinner to go. 

With a sigh, Remulo slumps and pops another bite of his meal into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and trying to make up for his utter disappointment with the airs of his wine. If it were anyone else, he might just resolve to killing them on the spot, but there were two things that kept Bukbuk alive. One, he helped him learn something very valuable very recently...and two, he didn't think he could kill him anyway. Not yet.

"Hello, Bucket," he says, smacking his lips slightly as he takes another bite of his meal, pointing out the menu for him to look at. Perhaps sharing a meal could lift his spirits up, especially with the Nautilus. "I was actually here on a job...but, it's fine. I'll find them again. East Blue isn't that large, which you just seem to prove more and more yourself. Hasn't been that long since we last ran into each other; sink any more ships, recently?" He says, a sly remark at how Bucket has been garnering his reputation. The more he thought about it, Bucket may have done him a favor; taking out someone in a public space would be rather bad, especially if he had to contend with the Baratie staff as well. Best to find them later, make it clean. 

[Smiley]

Bucket did notice those apprehensive, "disgusted" rich snobs making their leave once they saw the fishman sit down and acting boisterous, free and proud. To him, they just smelled of fear and it made him ever happy. After all, it meant that they were smart and sensible people, people that knew very well that they couldn't challenge or clash with someone that great without suffering great consequences. It was best, then, that they ran. That they left, instead of trying to rile up something and clash against the one who could have them go to the lockers down under with a swipe of his hand.

The menu was damn small for a hand like his, though he still worked it just fine with the tips of his fingers, looking down at it while reading through. So many names he didn't exactly understand and a clear higher cost to meats, which made sense. It's harder to get cattle when you have a restaurant in the middle of the fucking sea, but still. He had money, he could buy it.
"East Blue is really small, indeed. In fact, I just sank a ship with a good deal of money, so I figured I could eat well this once. I usually eat vegetarian." 
Bucket explained while figuring that he could ask for all the plates that had meats and all the desserts. Even then, he didn't know if he'd get enough for a meal. After all, he ate almost sixty thousand calories every day on a normal day and, to get that much with a vegan diet, he had to eat a LOT. 

Even high calory foods, he still had to eat a LOT. Which was partly why he also ate the rations of the sunk ships. "It's always good to be rewarded for a job well done, after all. Besides, it's not like those rich fools will suddenly go poor because they lost some money. After all, every businessman needs to account for losses." Bucket winked at Remulo with a cocky smile, being quick to call over a waiter, one who was all too clearly put off by the size of the fishman standing there. 

His order took a total of eight minutes. Not like he said anything out of the common, he had no specifications. He just ordered thing after thing after thing. A feast fit for ten famished fatsos with two stomachs each. Bucket's justification was that not only was he massive, he also had a lot of muscle mass to maintain, including replenishing caloric loss from intensive training and activity EVERY single day. 
He needed food.

[mildofthewild]

"I suppose so," Remulo says, evenly, taking another bite of his dish as he watches Bucket's rampage on the food. "Just wish that didn't mean chasing off my clients. It's...well, it's been hard. Seems like our encounter has spread; I'm not quite as requested as i used to be," he says, swirling the wine before taking another gulp. He was wondering why he was talking so much...must be the Verdicchio. 

"You know, now that you're here, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Remulo begins again, looking straight at Bucket as he sets his own glass down. He'd have to pay for this food now, it seems, which is a slight bummer (his funds were running a bit short) but that was besides the point. 

"That technique of yours...you said you could teach it. Could you do it here?"