Dunking under the Ship

[BEX]

Karate Island was a place where martial artists of all skills and calibers came to hone their skills to the finest point imaginable. Often men and women traveled here, never leaving until their dying day in search of the ever elusive “True Martial Artist” within themselves though many failed before they could live out their dream. On such a day where the determined inhabitants of the land woke to the morning there was a noise in one of the very sparse sake bars that littered the town; martial artists were very keen on maintaining a healthy body, for it contributed to their growth.

One man clothed in his flapping shihakusho was sent sailing through the western style double doors of the establishment and was quickly followed by a looming man with a scraggly beard that seemed inhuman on such a face. Still there was something to be said for the man’s piercing gray eyes as he belched freely into the air while looking down on the defeated opponent that had been the latest victim of the Hoop Star pirates. Jasin Natael was lean giant though his muscles bulged through his skin tight long sleeve shirt which was oddly outfitted with an equally tight vest atop the long sleeve, “Duh…boss says not to hurt none of da peeplz or we don’t get no moniez” the shaggy haired ogre look-a-like murmured to his friends in that deep baritone voice.

Behind him came an even more boisterous gigantic man who head more than past the ceiling of the doorway, but the man decided that it was for the benefit of the establishment to simply smash right through the wood. Before long all five of the gigantic men that made up the Hoop Stars were out and about within the streets conversing about what to do with their day off; no one had challenged them to their favorite Davy Back fight; the Death-sket-ball.

Of course there was something to be said for a winning streak that was more than fifty-two game strong even against hardened warriors that littered the land. None could deal with the roguish efforts made by the savage pirates to win, not mention any man that stood over three heads taller than you made it all, but impossible to dunk. Even realizing this, as dimwitted as the giant men were, ironically their captain was a stumpy dwarf who happened to manage the team on the grounds that he was too “talented” for the likes of this “low lifes”. Being easily duped the fine specimens of oversized humans readily agreed while earning privileges to go out to drink for every win they earned. They’d seen their boss play and he was good…like really good.

To them it was only a matter of time until they brought their game to the Grand Line. In the meantime robbing already broke samurai made for good sport.

[flame08]

At the same time on a different part of the island a new tall lanky man appear on the island. Dressed in the long robes of a shaolin monk though the robes were bright pink and red. The man's face was hooded and very little of his shin showed though observers would think that they saw blotches of white inside the hood. The man walked down the main road of the town stopping only once to reach into his robes and pull out a sheet of paper. Flicking his wrist to harden the piece of paper he looked down at it.

While only the slightest murmur could be heard from his mouth, the sound rather than being low as one would expect was actually quite squeaky. "The Hoop Star Pirates ehh? Thats a nice and sexayyy name! However their actions are unforgiveable. Totally against the code, the morals and the beliefs of the Okama Way. Something must be done quickly about them . . . They must be punished and converted! Now then . . . where are they?" He looked around, since no sign could be found he continued on.

This was Oki Hanabara, his weapons the twin-Kama were held in each hand, the left spun a kama like a small shield at his side the other was wrapped around the wrist and sitting still in grip. Keeping alert he walked up the steps to the dojo of a friend he had made earlier in his travels. The best would to be get info from someone who would be informed on this kind of thing. Also someone from Karate Island would be perfect.

[BEX]

To others visiting South Blue might have been a wonderful vacation, one that should be cherished and enjoyed for all its worth thanks in part to the nice weather coupled with the historic view provided by Karate Island. In every direction dojos and clan houses sprung up in refurbished fashion, even the Shinsenguni had been somewhat revived here. Certainly for those interested in ancient Japan during the time of the feudal lords this was a paradise, a utopia embodied within the Blues itself!

The cutting fart might contradict the wonder one was supposed feel. In fact the disinterested eyes, the slouching posture, the grim downturn of the mouth and even the slick film of sweat moistening this person’s forehead might have been enough to tell you that Maxwell Escobaur enjoyed nothing about this place. A woman dressed in a tight kimono, rather a kimono curtailed for other reasons simpered past without paying a side glance to the unusually tall and strangely dressed tourist of Karate Island. People like that were dime a dozen it appeared, but she sharply turned around with broiling rage bubbling in those hazel pupils in the direction of the wolf whistle that followed her.

“Eh?! Don’t point those at me!” the man cried, his almost silver hair glowing in the beating sun as he raised his hands in the defense of the unarmed woman clad in nothing, but the tight kimono…and little more. Even further emphasizing the lack of a threat was that by now she was at least several paces away, no big deal for an expert martial artist, but that wasn’t the point. A quizzical raise of her brow before she followed the trembling finger’s line of path to her bosom. “….” Apparently her breasts were the weapons.

Now bright red and not because of the sun the woman opened her mouth to say something offensive, the most degrading thing she could think to say to a man, but just like that the interaction was over and the tall man with a jaunty gait simply turned heel and walked away. A thin trail of smoke left the cigarette that magically appeared in his mouth in the span of the five seconds it took the woman to realize what had been his phobia, “I hate this place…it ruins my rosy view of the world” Max grumbled.

A strange man to be walking around in the sunlight. In a fur lined collar jacket drawn tight over an over-muscled body and black worker jeans no less…and were those cowboy boots?! Some might wonder who this guy thought he was. The more acute question was: Did he ever think?

[flame08]

(OOC: i dunno how we're planning to meet)

Oki slid through the crowds of Karate Island, it was hard for him not to reveal himself. His natural flamboyancy was exploding inside of him, but then he knew better. Unlike most okamas who would explode forward his experiences in the real world made him question those decisions especially in a place like this. Still he wanted to jump out and dance, laugh, and be merry and it took the majority of his will to keep from breaking out as such. So he continued, the solemn looking man was fighting that internal fight against all his instincts.

Passing all sorts of people in the crowds, even a bunch of half giants he made it toward his friend's dojo. The medium sized wooden building which was the dojo loomed in front of him as he stared forward. The dojo seemed to be in pristine condition, Oki sighed relief he had been worried his friend's dojo was attacked. Then Oki snapped, yelling out in front of his friend's dojo, "YOOOOOO Garu YOU THERE?? GUESS WHOS HERE, I'M BACK!!! ITS ME OKI!!!" Oki knocked hard onthe wooden doors multiple times expecting his friend to come immediately. Well the man was kind of old so maybe he wouldn't come that fast.

Oki danced in front of the dojo no longer concerned of what others thought of him. His hood came down revealing an immaculately painted face full of make-up and face paint (no duh). As his legs swung around in a show of skill at break-dancing there was a creak at the door. Oki immediatly jumped back to a standing position. The door opened the dojo was dark inside, but there was someone there slowly being revealed to the light.

[BEX]

Flicking the bud hanging from his mouth gingerly, the strange haired behemoth of a man walked down the streets with passing disinterested glance from one side of the road to the other. Dojos full of students and teachers practicing their craft, hotels of the olden style where geishas gathered to “service” tuckered out masters along with the occasional tourist; everywhere people seemed immersed in the lovely environment that Karate Island. Yet this lone man was strolling with a bitter expression as if he could not partake in the joys that were of this town; who was he in the first place one might ask…

“Che…I hate this place…I never shoulda let that bastard talk me into searching for my brother here” the tall man with rather vulgar manners spoke candidly though no one was around to listen, “Still…they ruined my rosy childhood so I’m gonna ruin their faces” said the insistent young man when suddenly a shadow stalked over him.

Stopping his tracks he looked up slowly to meet the eyes of the fluffy eared giant and the broad nose that seemed to house deep, black pits for eyes; eyes that were infinitely wise and could see anything one might be thinking. Almost sage like, “Duh…wha he doin’ here? We beat him yet?” asked the dummy towering over Maxwell Escobaur. Maybe “sage-like” have been a bit too generous for one such as this particular gentleman.

A smoke laced sigh escaped through the somber looking brawler as he coolly eyed the gang of towering humans that suddenly surrounded him. He said humans because more or less they possessed enough general similarities between themselves and him that they could be identified as such but there was much to be said about the proportional difference. Most men barely stood at Max’s chest yet each of these towering goons were a head if not more in height forcing him to look up at them, but even so he kept a icy calm visage as the heated breeze coming of the South Blue sea snaked through his clothing, drawing even more moisture from his already soaking skin. That was another thing Max hated; this place was too damned hot!

“Alright…alright” he said with both hands up in a show of what he hoped to be mutual passivity, “I’ll go my way and you go-” , that was as far as his sentence got as the first larger-than-life human suddenly sported an iron studded club which he wielded with unnerving grace for such a clumsy looking fellow, “You go bye-bye~” the beast said as the blunt object smashed into the unsuspecting Max jettisoning him high into the air until he could no longer here the excited jeers coming from down below.

Floating for what seemed an incalculable amount of time mostly because he hadn’t bothered counting, the bleeding, badly injured foreigner dropped in front of an unusual man who had just been about to enter a building with someone they knew or thought they did anyway. From his spot on the ground the battered pseudo-astronaut stared shakily at the painted faced man and with a serious expression his face murmured, “Mom?”, before promptly conking out.

Nice introduction right?

[flame08]

(OOC: interesting introduction)

The door in front of him stayed open as suddenly, like some angel *cough* out of heaven a man slid right in front of him out of nowhere. Not noticing at first Oki continued to step forward, his foot fell landing on something not so hard as it was .. . squishy. Oki jumped, that was an abnormal feeling to say the least. "EEEEP" was the only sound that came out of his mouth, as Oki consequently looked down at the step to see a bruised and bloodied man at his feet.

At the same time an old man, Oki's old friend Garu walked out noticing the bloodied man headed back in to get something to help Max. Oki on the other hand immediately got to his knees and picked up Max with both hands. Carrying him inside, Oki laid him on the ground, he looked at the wounds. While Oki wasn't a very experienced doctor he could tell at least the external wounds were not deep. On the inside he might be unsure, but then he thought back. What had he been called by this man. He was being rather loud so Oki hadn't heard the word properly. Was it . . .mom? no it couldn't be, he was an okama but to be mistaken as a woman while not in full okama outfit would be outrageous, wouldn't it?

As Garu came back out Oki looked at him worried. "I-I I don't know Master Garu. He's hurt he doesn't look it too much on the outside but i feel like hes suffered a bit of internal damage. HE CALLED ME HIS MOM!!!!" Garu looked over at the hurt man, placing a bowl of hot water next to him he got to work checking out all the wounds. "Well i'll need to wash him up but he looks fine, no signs of internal damage, no worries Oki. And how many times have i told you not to call me Master, in fact you just called me Garu maybe 5 seconds earlier than this. So really?" Garu sighed "Take a rest Oki, you may take your usual quarters."

Oki sighed relief nodding to Garu and walked off, "Thanks Mast- Garu!" It didn't occur to him to ask Garu what he had originally wanted to ask. What had just happened distracted him too much. It was thus a question for later that is if he remembered.

[BEX]

(OOC: Nice bit of gm’ing going on there mate)

It was a wonder why Max had even bothered coming out to the Blues when all sorts of weirdos from the Grand Line usually started in one Blue or another. Sighing as the mistaken “mother” hoisted him into the house and quickly had him in a bed while an old man gruffly chided what Maxwell now realized was a man, a feminine one, but a man none the less. It just kept getting weirder and weirder; worse yet, he’d lost the cigarette which had coincidently had been his last one…typical, just typical.

As the man, Oki drifted away with a nervous farewell to his master or more easily referred to as this “Garu” the injured party’s eyes drifted after the strange fellow before dabbing at his head gingerly. Thick blood coalesced on his fingers, but he stared distantly at the liquid as if it were not from his own body. Truthfully he’d been struck harder than this before not to mention it wasn’t as if he’d been impaled by anything, “Oi, Ossan…” he grunted as he levered himself off the bed and readjusted his clothing over his very broad body. He had never had anyone to take care of him before so having some old geezer and his flamboyant young…student? At least Max hoped that was the case or else he’d really probably just take the next ferry off this rock,

“Tell Ogi over there that I appreciate the hospitality, but I’m good as far as good goes I guess” he said offhandedly as he took a perfunctory step towards the door before looking over his shoulder. Something about the old man bothered him though he couldn’t quite put a label to it. More importantly there was a question that he should have asked the moment he got the chance, “You gotta light?” he asked before waving the question off with a dismissive shake of his head. Of all the stupid things to say to an old timer…

Shrugging nonchalantly he walked out of the door only to realize that he hadn’t gotten the name of those busters that had popped him one.

“You know of any huge people around these parts gramps? his eyes burned fiercely while he managed keep the cool demeanor that he always had when he was about to get into some serious rough-n-tumble stuff. Blood dripping down from his scalp, “Supermax” was as serious as it got.

[flame08]

Then he remembered his question. Jumping up at once his finger point to the sky in the stereotypical 'oh yeah' position. Turning around daintily on his feet he sped back toward the main room he had not so long ago left. He was excited, he had remembered, he hadn't forgotten this was great, almost like an achievement on its own! Happy with himself he entered back into the main room, something different was there as well. The passed out man who had appeared in front of him so randomly was now awake again.

Totally ignoring anything either of them said, Oki ran forward to greet the new person. Taking Max's hands in his he swung Max around "YOU'RE AWAKE YAY!!!!" A grin grew across his face as he continued to swing Max around. Finally putting him down after maybe a third swing. Turning to Garu he quickly put out the question "What do you know about the Hoop Star Pirates and where i might be able to find them? This is of the utmost importance! It is crucial that i enforce the code, the law, the Okama WAY!"

He bounced up and down happily looking at his master for the answer to his question. Garu looked thoughtfully at both of them, it was a weird coincidence or maybe not. Thinking for only a second he began to speak, "You know its an odd coincidence, or not so odd that my answer would kill two birds with one stone." Looking at Max he said "The people you are looking for are the same ones that Oki are looking for," refocusing on both of them he continued "The Hoop Star Pirates, are a group of half-giants as you probably know. I'm not sure where they are, but they shouldn't be too hard to spot with their half-giantness and all. I would check the remaining dojos if i were you. Be careful they are quite the dangerous bunch, they've been challenging people to a game they were calling Basketball and they have yet to lose!"

Oki looked at the person next to him, did they have similar desires? He wondered and finally came up with the somewhat obvious question "Do you want to teach them a lesson with me? I've got to change them to the correct way! The OkamaWay!"

[BEX]

“Do you want to teach them a lesson with me? I've got to change them to the correct way! The OkamaWay!” asked the strange looking fellow, but Max’s face was already sunken in and hollow after the flamboyant display of….Okama-ness.

Eyebrow twitching, the mature looking slugger’s eyes drifted from the origin of the question to the old man where his face hardened into one of absolute hatred before melting into exasperated acquiescence at the ridiculousness of the situation. His eyes to the ground he thought about the group of hulking men that had surrounded for no apparent reason and taken it upon themselves to send him sailing across an island that he hated in the first place. Generally it was way too much trouble to use his fists, but somehow he had to rectify the matter since they’d ruined his rosy…well nothing had been exactly rosy. Still!

“Basket…ball?” he said dryly to the old man who nodded his agreement with the foreign term, it wasn’t something he’d really heard much about, but he’d seen it in action once before. It was really a strange game with strange rules that involved up to five people trying to put a ball into a hoop; that was the extent of his knowledge on the unusual pastime. At the very least it meant that he didn’t have to settle for a brawl, thank goodness for that, but on the other hand there was the fact that he’d need a partner. With that thought his eyes returned to the prancing ninny that had so lavishly greeted him and his good health, despite the apparent splotches of blood crusting on his forehead, “That’s who I have to play with?” he wondered before looking his question in the old man’s direction. No help there either.

All he got with a grinning wave as if that were the answer to his question. An arched brown and shoulder shrug was the only answer this face painted stranger was going to be getting from. With that he turned back out the door raising his hand to bid the old codger goodbye; he was always a stickler for good manners and the old man had been good to him for the most part. Of course getting that cigarette would have been nice, but we all couldn’t get what we wanted when we wanted. Now he was in street with a rage smoldering in the pit of his stomach as he cursed those overgrown Neanderthals for setting him in a bad mood like this. Being mad always gave him “indigestion” which was really just his way of saying it was an unpleasant feeling to be angry, not so much that he actually became physically stricken by the force of his temper. Not knowing which way to start he licked his thumb and held it up in the air; the wind was blowing to the west. Direction decided he took him and his cowboy boots down the line of dojos that bottled him in on both sides.

A long day…

[flame08]

Oki gave a great thumbs up to his partner in crime-fighting. Between them there was nothing that couldn't stop them. Or at least he thought, optimism was one of the many virtues of being an Okama. Watching his partner walk into the street he stood only for a few seconds in hesitation. He didn't actually know this guy, what if he also had to be converted. What a job this would be, should he check it out? It'd be for the best but then he'd be held back for a while.

His partner in this held up a licked thumb, checking direction or what? Feeling the wind ehh . . . wonder that would do, you couldn't tell the difference between a half-giant and human could you? He didn't actually know, he sniffed the air . . . nothing. Of course not then what was this guy doing so odd. Well actually he shouldn't be one to judge on oddness but whatever. The man decided based off the wind he guessed as the man headed west into a dojo heavy sector of town.

Oki followed behind him, the dojo sector of town, it was quite possible they'd find the Hoop Star Pirates there. The sector seemed awfully quietly, last time he had been here there was always yelling coming from all around as people trained. From further ahead a yelp came, someone was in trouble! Oki jumped to it running ahead. Finally something to do, maybe it would be the Hoop Star pirates! That would be perfect ya know.

[BEX]

Max heard the yelp to though his reaction was far more reserved than the proud Okama partner he’d found at his side. As the wind of the strange man’s speed swept past him, causing his clothes to flutter he simply blinked impassively before continuing on at the casual pace he’d been moving before all the while wondering where on this forsaken island could a man find a decent cigarette. Typical hobo behavior you might think….

Up ahead the yelp came from an old raisin like woman who was having trouble opening a pickle jar. Quite the innocuous first task to finding the Hoop Stars, right? Who better to ask on the whereabouts of some giants other than an old lady trying to open her clouded, somewhat rotten jar of pickles on a day where the temperature would easily put a reptile into a coma? Then again, the smart thing to do might have been to move on so as not to waste time handling issues the lazy senior could have handled herself. Too bad that option was immediately removed once the aged lady waddled into the road with her jar of pickles glistening in her hand with clouds of green odor swirling forebodingly like sharks waiting to spill out from their cage to devour whatever was on the other side of it.

Max immediately saw that this was going to be one of “those” things so rather than bounding ahead after his very confident comrade he ducked behind the nearest dojo wall hoping to remain unseen as the old lady in all her glory; she was wearing only a light almost see through shift thanks to the temperature shoved the sealed jar in the incoming Oki’s path. She seemed determined to eat those pickles too from where Max stood, “That’s one scary old hag…oi! Doesn’t she know that those things are rotten?” he whispered with a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his head hurriedly. He felt a bit bad for having ditched the well meaning man to this sort of fate, but some things he was going to avoid at all costs.

“Open my pickle jar!” the woman stated quite firmly as if she expected the person coming to her aid to do it without question which was likely going to happen, but it wouldn’t be all for naught. Unbeknownst to everyone else this old woman had something that others might not have….cookies!
…
Oh, and information on where the Hoopstar Pirates’ hideout might be.

[flame08]

(OOC: Way to be anticlimactic man =P)

As Oki turned to the door where the yelping came from he found something he did not expect. The building was in perfect shape, unsullied, if the pirates had come it would not be as such would it? He doubted it but nonetheless he went in, his hopes had dropped massively, no longer did he see the chance of finding the Hoop Stars. Still for someone to be yelping something must be wrong so he continued in. The scene was admittedly depressing for him.

Oki looked on as an old woman struggled with a pickle jar. She turned toward him and started waddling over. For all the good meaning he had he could not help but give off a sweat drop. What KIND OF SITUATION WAS THIS he screamed in his mind. Turning around he noticed that his partner in this work suddenly had disappeared. That guy needs some fixing up, ditching him in this situation of all situations . . . Oki sighed people just need to learn the Okama Way it seemed this guy did as well.

The lady shaking the glass came up to her yelling at him to open her pickle jar. A green kind of aura surrounded it swiping his hand across his face he tried to disperse the jar as it was placed in front of him. He forced a smile grabbing the jar and holding it away from him and using his other hand to break the seal on the jar with ease. The green aura which had originally been somewhat contained by the jar now spewed out covering the air putrefying it. Oki swore that the aura could kill something that flew into it, but somehow the old lady seemed to survive the stench.

Reaching into a pocket he searched for something he kept around. It wasn't for times like this but he felt like he'd pass out if he was back in the putrefying stench any longer. He found it grabbing the alligator clip in his pocket he stuck it over his nose. Thinking about it he guessed that it was worth a shot. Smiling her fake smile to the lady again he asked "Do you know anything about the Hoop Star Pirates?" He doubted she would know anything but he guessed it would be worth a try ya know. Maybe karma would be on his side.

[BEX]

The skillful Okama had freed the pickles from their imprisonment and now they were off to take over the world! Or rather they were doomed to be devoured by the wrinkled old woman who took in a few precious moments to deeply inhale the otherwise toxic scents that billowed from the long forgotten jar. Perhaps describing it as a crypt for dead pickles was a more apt description, but she nonchalantly popped one of the withered, yellow, bumpy, morsels into her mouth before stopping dead as Oki asked her about some pirates or something or the other…

Pickle froth in her mouth, the senior seemed to have forgotten she had eaten something as she scratched her head fervently trying to remember something that had to do with pirates that she’d heard just this morning. Believing herself to be the sharpest minded member of her age group she hummed thoughtfully…while politely flashing the discolored mash that remained on her tongue to the questioning aid. If rotten had a picture, the image that had settled on her tongue easily fit the bill more so than anything ever witnessed on this planet, but before anyone could make comment about her questionable choice of food or behavior the light bulb flashed dimly in her head, “Oh yeff, yeff, YEFF!” /color] she exclaimed excitedly and clearly pleased with her self as she shook her rump in the perfunctory manner of excitement.

Unfortunately the exertion seemed a bit much for a her old heart as she paused mid shake and crumpled to the ground, her pickles rolling while leaking out the foul smelling fluid onto the ground. Beckoning to the lad that had come to her aid to come closer, the old hag would whisper with the food still in her mouth, “Frey in der wast homo ta da reff” she spluttered through the mash in her mouth. Particles of food would make jail break leaps from her mouth as she did so which would be horrible to witness whether one was under fire or not, but especially horrible because the smell now resided in the aged maw as well.

Strangely enough if Oki had not been able to make out what the woman said in her “clear” indication of where the pirates had been. An orator of great skill stepped outside for an evening smoke and happened to witness the scene from the very beginning including the old woman falling in a heap to the ground, but he looked on casually not saying anything until now.

“If you’re wondering she said: They were in the last dojo to the left” he said frankly between brief silences in which he took the life enriching drags of carbon monoxide, “She probably means down by the docks, the nearest dojo is to the left and you can’t miss it. Sides those pirates have been coming down and getting things for only 110% of what I charge” the man explained shaking his head at the travesty, “Normally I make 150% what I should be selling”

Suddenly revived the woman strewn on the ground would shake her fist in anger and respond with dagger shaped teeth, “DON’T COMPLAIN ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT!” and as if to add further emphasis to her claim…she projectile vomited the filth that had been in her mouth which she suddenly remembered have been chewing. Needless to say anyone within a two meter radius was likely in danger of being splashed by the horrid concoction which only affirmed Max’s suspicions as he witness the strange undertaking with a wide grin on his face. You see, he had no ill will towards Oki, but it simply would not do to NOT laugh at the circumstances…they were rather chaotic.

All in all the information they needed was received and once Oki and himself joined up again, they’d be heading out to challenge those Hoopin’ bastards to the beat down they deserved…too bad things were never that cut-n-dry.