The Underworld Tour

[viruswithshoes]

For once the okama marine lieutenant got to pick the code phrase and response to recognize the Ensign they were supposed to train in the art of intelligence gathering.
I'm a street-walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm.
Half musical reference and half a joke on his new kohai.

Lieutenant Basqiat's bare feet rested on a dilapidated bench of rotting wood in Pirate Market's red lantern district. The blonde with the mohawk blew on their freshly painted blue toenails and waved away several drunk men that assumed the blue eyed blonde in a long skirt that mistook him for a woman in the nightly companion industry.

Orange lines of the tattooed okama's cigarette traced through the night as he waved away one man found it pointing at another. Tall, fair-skinned, not the normal type of man to frequent the area.
The agent of Marine Intelligence took his pale blue eyes off of the other man and waited for the song lyric code phrase. The right one meant there was someone to train, the wrong one meant there was someone to kill.

OOC:Abaddon Black

[Abaddon Black]

In a cafe in the redlight district Abaddon could be seen reading what appeared to be a newspaper and slowly drinking a cup of coffee. In reality the newspaper held his mission briefing that he had gotten just a few days ago. He was to meet with a marine lieutenant and follow their instructions. He had never met this particular marine, so the only information he had to go on was that they were a fishman hybrid and they had a large maze-like tattoo on their neck and back. I'm a street-walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm. Honestly this code phrase is really ridiculous. He thought to himself as he kept an eye on those that were walking outside of the cafe.

The first individual his eyes were drawn to was a rather tall man who was an octopus fishman without a shirt on. Abaddon eyed the man and as soon as the man turned around he saw that the fishman lacked a tattoo on their back. Not him he thought as his eyes quickly moved over to a group of people walking. They seemed to all be normal people, nothing screamed that they had fishmen blood in them and their lack of maze-like tattoos ruled them out as well. It was only when he saw a few men approach someone who was sitting on a bench did he notice a maze-like tattoo.

Abaddon slowly stood up, he had a hunch he had found the marine he was supposed to meet with. Unlike most of the pirates Abaddon was dressed in a tan suit with a teal blue shirt hidden by the black overcoat that he wore. Stepping out of the cafe Abaddon folded the newspaper and placed it into his coat, using his Luarian flames to burn it away as soon as it was out of sight. Abaddon’s amber eyes and blonde hair, both seemed to glow slightly in the night as he made his way over to his supposed instructor.

He looked over and saw that they were smoking. He let out a sigh and spoke to them. “I'm a street-walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm.” Honestly the next time he was to do an undercover mission he would have to make sure that the code phrase was something that could be said during a normal conversation. For now he would wait to see if they would give back the proper response phrase, if they didn’t he would have to act quickly to silence them. Under his coat he kept his trusty seastone coated sword ready and hidden.

[viruswithshoes]

Even as somone who infrequently smiled Dagon Basqiat had to grin at making a fellow marine quote punk song lyrics.
"I'm the runaway son of a nuclear a-bomb." The marine lieutenant said in response.
"Now that that's out of the way neither one of us has to kill the other...at least not yet."

The okama marine spy blew on his wet blue toenails and slid to one side of the bench. "This will be a very simple but very difficult night for you. Follow my orders and answer my questions. And no ranks, sirs, agents or titles of any kind. Let any of the people know who we work for and we night as well make a suicide pact now."

Dagon read Abbadon's file and found it almost remarkable in its' dullness. No eccentricities of note aside from being a tad more aloof than most which triggered Dagon's suspicion, then again everything did that to one degree or another.

Dagon stood up and breathed in the night air through his nose before spitting out the butt of his used cigarette. The smell of burning tobacco and chili peppers clung to him along with alcohol.
The senpai marine handed two objects to his kohai. A black chrome cigarette lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

"Job One: Give me a smoke and a light if I look annoyed. Job Two: Follow me to The Bucket Of Blood."

There was only quiet between the two marines. Dagon was glad he didn't get stuck with a chatterbox. Chatty spies tended to have short lives.

The Bucket Of Blood was the type of tavern that required demolition and rebuilding to reach the level of a squalid dive bar. There was no door, bullet holes and several stair steps missing in a stairwell that looked to lead nowhere.
"When your average pirate infested shithole is too tame for you, The Bucket Of Blood can serve your needs."

Dagon stuck his left fist out to the octopus fishman tending bar who did the same. The hand and the tentacle each had tattoos of a demonic face in the middle of an equilateral cross. As the two identical tattooes bumped, pleasantries were exchanged.
"You're okay for a human, Jen. Hey, did you hear about how Whitebeard made it to heaven?"
"Because his head is holier than thou?"
The barternder guffawed and chortled while Dagon let out something akin to a chuckle and a sigh.
I'm looking for The Mems."

The bartender pointed a tattooed tentacle to a person more out of place in The Bucket of Blood than two marines, one an okama and one a towering flaming man.

A woman in geisha makeup, smoking a kiseru pipe and wearing a white wolf pelt stoal over a skin tight leather bodysuit all the while sitting upon the back of a large man. She gave the ominous bar an even more dangerous and ominous aura.

"Pretend you're dealing with an empress. No eye contact. Your head should always be lower than hers. And think of a fake name. You'll be needing it," Dagon muttered to Abbadon.

As the woman known oddly as Venus in Furs stood so did every large, leather clad man acting as furniture. Four men in total swarmed around the two marines.
"Jenny Cide...what DID you bring me?"

"This is my apprentice. I need him jumped in so I can start training him." Dagon tilted his head and lowered his voice to get next to Abbadon. "Introduce yourself with a fake name and then brace yourself for about two minutes. Don't fight back."

One of the four men broke off from the group with Dagon and offered the marine four to one odds on Abbadon.
Dagon took that bet.

[Abaddon Black]

"Now that that's out of the way neither one of us has to kill the other...at least not yet." Abaddon raised an eyebrow at that comment from Dagon. Not that he assumed that they wouldn’t try to kill him if needed, more or less that Dagon wouldn’t have much luck doing so. Abaddon was sure of his ability to survive. Still it seemed that this individual was going to be his superior for this mission. He still wasn’t sure if taking on a mission to infiltrate a gang was the best idea, as it stood he was more than likely not going to do this again.


Abaddon took the lighter and the pack of cigarettes that Dagon handed over to him, placing them in his cloak. After Dagon had said the two rules, Abaddon finally spoke. “I know how to keep a secret, so don’t worry about that.” When Dagon started to walk Abaddon followed them, keeping silent the entire time. He kept a good six inches distance behind Dagon. He did this for two reasons, the first was that Dagon was the one who knew where they were going to, the second was that he was confident that a distance of six inches was all he needed to use his flames if he needed to defend himself from Dagon. There was no telling if Dagon wasn’t a dirty marine, he had heard stories of how other marines had ended up working for the gangs due to the staggering amount of berry offered.


As they reached the Bucket of Blood Abaddon noticed how absolutely filthy this part of the island was and how easy it was to find several faces he knew had bounties out. Dagon’s introduction of this place fit it, a shithole meant for the worst. As they entered the bar he looked around and simply uttered the word. “Charming.” In a tone filled with disgust, it was clear he wasn’t a fan of being in a place like this, however he would try and hold back unneeded comments for the sake of the mission. Still he took note of the tattoo that both Dagon and the fishman had on their arms. Possibly a gang symbol, either way the fishman was now on Abaddon’s radar as a person of interest for later.



Abaddon took Dagon’s advice as they slowly approached the woman dressed in a white wolf pelt and tight leather bodysuit. He had a feeling where this interaction might go and as soon as the four men started to circle around the two of them. He heard the woman speak and refer to Dagon as Jenny Cide, a little on the nose for his own liking, however he wasn’t about to say anything to Dagon at this time. “The name’s Cinder.” Abaddon said after Dagon told him to introduce himself. He was told not to fight back, but honestly he didn’t like the idea of letting these three goons just beat him for a few minutes.



As the first goon threw a fist at Abaddon’s face he moved his hand to grab it, catching the fist with his right hand. “Not the face.” He said coldly as a trickle of flame came from his hand. The flame soon started to wrap around the fist of the goon he was still holding onto with all his might. Abaddon’s flames slowly started to coil around his own body. Moving slowly down his right hand to eventually cover his entire body. As this happened he never let go of the first mook’s hand, who at this point would have had their skin start to burn away.



He looked at the other two, as their ally screamed in pain. And the smell of something burning filled the air. In a cold and unfeeling tone he spoke. “Come on, you have two minutes…. Tick tock.” The bright flames danced and flickered all around his body, however Abaddon made note not to set anything on fire in this place. Last thing he wanted was this place to go up in flames attracting unwanted attention.

[viruswithshoes]

There were several tense exchanges of looks between the leather clad thugs that attempted to beat Abbadon, the one who bed with Dagon, Dagon himself and the woman in fur known colloqially as Venus In Furs.
"Do you want to call this a successful initiation, Mistress Venus?"

The leather clad blonde sighed out a stream of smoke. "Very well," She said, slightly annoyed at the lackluster show before directing her attention to the flaming man before her. "Welcome to The Poison Memories. Miss Jenny there will let you know what is expected of you."

Dagon once more quickly slid by Abbadon's ear. "We need to leave right now."

Dagon yearned to breath smoke after that tense experience. He was sure it was going to be a stressful, chain-smoking sort of night.
"Smoke."
Once the relaxing smell of burning chili peppers hit him Dagon felt able to let the faint vestiges of a smile curl up at one corner of his blue lips.
"That was good. You didn't let them beat on you too much, but you didn't disrespect them by fighting back.

Dagon's bare feelt barely hit the broken cobblestone road before speaking again, atypical for the taciturn okama.
"You are now affiliated with The Poison Memories. Information brokers and extortionists with some added kink. Now that you are a member you are allowed to exchange something for their information. Money, favors, information, whatever is valuable. "

Dagon reached into his sleeveless white, button up shirt and produced a flask of clear, chili pepper rum and offered it to his tall subornidate. "Do you drink?"

"I'm sure you noticed that we do things different in the Marine Intelligence. We cooperate with minnows in order to kill sharks. Since I bet on you to make it through your fight I'm owed some info. Now I have another source of knowledge outside of our organization. This part of what we do as intel agents. We accummulate debts and cash them in when its convienent."

"In short: Make as many aquantainces as you can and learn what you can by any means necessary."

"Here's my philosophy about pirates and other criminal types. The leading cause of death among pirates is other pirates. It's the height of foolishness to let that go to waste."

As the Lieutenant spoke the two marines cross the invisible border from the worse part of Pirate's Market to arguably the most respectable area, they were much less likely to be be mugged or randomly murdered.

There's a joke about the island of Pirate's Market that it wasn't so much an actual island but an archipelago skeevy bars and hangouts. Therefore Dagon led Abbadon to yet another bar.
"Part two of my philosophy. Bartenders are the best sources of information. Tacticians say they'd take a few spies over a hundred soldiers, while I say I'd take a good bartender over a hundred spies. Be as nice to bartenders as possible."

Rather than enter the actual tavern Dagon ducked into it's alleyway, kicked over a slightly broken crate in Abbadon's direction and sat on another.
"You have questions, I'm sure. Fire away and I'll answer them as long as you answer mine honestly. Why did you join the marines and why the interest in intelligence gathering? Please don't insult my intelligence by saying 'justice' or some other bullshit. Why are are you a marine?"

[Abaddon Black]

The smell of flesh turing to char was filling Abaddon’s nose as he heard Dagon speak. "Do you want to call this a successful initiation, Mistress Venus?" Abaddon still clutched the fist of the first man who tried to strike him. When their leader said very well. Abaddon let the man’s hand go and took a step back. With Dagon whispering in his ear that they needed to leave. Abaddon simply nodded and turned his back to follow Dagon out of that bar and to the streets. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it using his flames for Dagon when they asked for a smoke. Abaddon simply kept quiet as Dagon kept talking about how he did and how he was now a part of the Poison Memories.



When Dagon offered him a sip from a flask Abaddon simply shook his head. He wasn’t here to drink and doing so on the job would affect his judgment, something that he really didn’t want to happen. Especially when he was still forming his opinion on if he could actually trust Dagon. While what they said made sense to him and everything they were saying seemed to align with trying to get information and insight in a criminal organization, it was still only words, cheap things that could easily be used to lure someone in.



It was only after he noticed that they had left the rougher part of the island did Abaddon realize that, at least for now it seemed like they could speak a bit more freely. Following Dagon into an alleyway he sat down on a crate opposite of Dagon when they sat down on a crate. It was here where Dagon asked a simple question to Abaddon. Why did he join the marines, along with an elegant way of not to bullshit them with the answer.



Abaddon took a deep breath before lighting up his flame in one hand, letting the fire flicker before jumping to his other hand. It stayed there for a brief moment before sputtering out and vanishing. “Have you ever met someone who’s had a normal life after they’ve eaten a devil fruit? Those with powers……. rather those that have gifts like mine really only have two options in life. Either we abuse it and become hunted because of it, or we join the hunters and try and protect those that don’t have it. Navy, army of a kingdom, a sheriff all of them were choices I had so I took the one that at least let me travel.”



Abaddon was telling a partial truth there, while he wasn’t going to tell the actual reason. He knew very well that devil fruit users really only have two options in life, while he wasn’t a real devil fruit user his flames were close enough that he was in the same boat. He saw what happened when his father tried to hide and not get involved. He had a hunch that it might not be enough for Dagon, so he started to speak again.

“ But that isn't the whole reason Have you ever heard of Davy Jones? Do you know what Cipactli is? What about why there are so many myths about dragons? Do you know who invented the cannon? The history of our world is slowly slipping away, things are getting lost and forgotten. I joined the marines to help at least record it, so you might understand why I have an interest in the way you gather intelligence. So you tell me, what do you fight for? Why if you’re so chummy with all these crooks and gangs are you in the marines?”

[viruswithshoes]

Dagon let out a long "Hmmmm" that threatened to overtake his entire vocabulary trying to put his reason for joining the marines into words. Words, like emotions, were not the okama marine's field of interest.

"I was drafted so there was no joining for me. I was a low level criminal with The Okama Hagane gang until I got into a fight with the wrong marine. It was probably the third worst beating of my life. I stayed this long in the marines out of love." He shrugged.
"The person who drafted me used a fighting style that entranced me. I fell for rokushiki the way most men fall for Boa Hancock."

"People say more with their fighting styles than their words. I aim to learn every style of martial arts that I can. And like every martial art has something of value so do different groups of people. The marines are like a basic reverse punch. Effective, but not the end all and be all."

The normally laconic okama audibly groaned at having said so much in such a small amount of time.
"Here's another lesson. Get some idiot to talk about their favorite topic and they won't shut the hell up," Dagon said with more than a hint of self-deprecation in his voice.
"You hungry? I'll make us something to eat after our fight."

Dagon swayed in a drunken manner and struck out at Abbadon with a wobbly punch.
"Suiken!"