Dusk's second wind � [Plot/Doc]

[Badman Zeek]

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Shortly after his attempt to claim a Marine vessel with the aid of a couple of wondering pirates like himself, Cross became aware why their actions had only been an attempt. During their temporal path of destruction, the would be crew had devised a plan to take over the Marine vessel. Everything had been planned out perfectly and would have gone smooth, until the man Cross thought to be his first-mate, made the mistake of launching himself aboard the Marine's ship. It was, when restraining himself from killing the Marines in order to rescue his former second in command, that Cross determined he was not properly prepared to capture the Marine vessel. In the end he disbanded the small crew and continued his seeking out more promising individuals.

The shift from day to evening was sure to bring more forth likely candidates. The only problem lay in the location. Cross was in Rogue Town, a Marine infested island, which has been set on alert since his earlier activities in a local tavern where he cut down about a half a dozen Marines. Regardless Cross was going to the transition from day to night. If he could find a worthy pirate in a marine inhabited town like this, they would easily be able to take a random ship at the docks, likely to be abandoned due to the amount of bars opened at the hour.

After his earlier departure from the pier Cross had returned towards the inner streets of the town. Although his intent was to stay in his room at a local inn, the pirate's insomnia refused to grant him the privilege of sleep. The restlessness that had been built from a few hours of sitting in the room forced him out into the surprisingly populated streets of Rogue Town.

His destination...the pier.

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[Doc]

"If there's one thing I hate the most..." Doc grumbled, "It's a plan gone awry..." He was currently pulling himself out of the water of the pier, after a lengthy conversation with one of the marine's on the ship he'd been clinging to. He'd been having a stalemate with the ship's captain for several minutes, before the man ascertained that Doc wasn't a threat. Only when he was sure that he wouldn't be shot did Doc release his grip on the chain of the ships anchor and fall to the water below. To make matters even worse, he fell to the uproar of laughter emanating from the starboard side of the ship. Ignoring them as best he could, he swam over to the pier and pulled himself up, looking around for Cross and Archie. When he didn't see either, he surmised that they'd fled, leaving him to the mercy of the marines.

"Well la di freakin da..." he said with a shake of his head. Reaching behind him, he pulled out his pistol, which was jammed into his waistband, and check to make sure that the water had not damaged it. After he was satisfied that it would fire if he needed it to, he meandered away from the ship, the hooting laughter still ringing in his ears. He looked around for someplace to dry himself, to no avail. He eventually decided he'd head back to town and try and find a bar. Opting for a different one then he'd picked earlier that day, he found a nice quiet pub with few patrons. Slipping inside, he received a nod of welcome from a man sitting behind the bar. Plopping down on a bar stool, he beckoned the bartender over. "What can I get ya?" the man rumbled, a sizable mustache twitching to and fro as he spoke. "Yeah, just a bottle of rum." The bartender raised his eye quizzically, but after a moment he went to fetch the rum.

As the bartender went to get his drink, Doc cast a curious eye over the bar. The few patrons inside were staring deeply into their mugs, oblivious to the goings on around them. Frowning, Doc asked the bartender about it as he approached. "Ah, yes. These are all men who've lost important things to the sea..." "Tragic," Doc said with a shake of his head, as he expertly uncorked the top of the bottle. Taking a hearty swig, he spun on his stool and hopped off of it, making for the door. "Oi, you gotta pay for that!" The bartender hollered. Without breaking stride, Doc pulled his pistol from the back of his waistband, and fired a shot over the bartender's head. The bullet pierced a bottle on the shelf, causing it to shatter and shower the man in alcohol. "No the hell I don't," Doc scoffed, as he booted the door open.

Strolling down the street, Doc decided his best bet would be to make his way back towards the pier. After all, he'd still need to find a way off the island. He had no intention of staying there for much longer, especially considering that he'd quickly become a target for bounty hunters and marines, the way he was going. He strode towards the pier, drinking heartily from his bottle, as he spied the familiar gait of someone in front of him. Taking another deep swig, he peered through the gathering darkness towards him. "Hey Cross. Is that you?"

[Badman Zeek]

[black]

Arriving at the pier Cross was pleased to see an adequate amount of activity present. Considering the hour, he didn't expect to find numerous boats and vessels docking. Especially after the panic he had caused earlier that day. Almost immeadiately upon entering the area Cross was greeted by a familiar voice. Turning towards its source the pirate was surprised to see Doc the young man who had participated in the mayhem produced that morning. What shocked Cross wasn't the fact that he was alive, but more so that he still roamed the streets as a free man.

"Theres definitely more to this kid than what he displayed earlier."He thought to himself.

In some ways Doc reminded Cross of himself back when he first came to Rogue town in search of adventure. The pirate was indeed intrigued by the temporary companion. Though perhaps, Doc could prove himself worthy of becoming a true "companion", a Nakama even. Afterall he was to be a member of the Royal Pirates had they found success in acquiring a vessel.

Thoughts of their previous task prompted Cross to take hold of the conversation, skipping the greeting he asked "Do you still wish to set sail along side myself? If so then we should return to our previous endevour as soon as possible."

As he spoke Cross extend his arm, waving it in an arching motion to emphasize the area they would be targetting. Of course the location remained the docks. However, turning back towards them his eyes were now set on a merchant ship. It was similar in size to the Marine vessel they once sought, however it was unclear what type of forces lay aboard.

"This should be fun."

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[Doc]

At the sound of his voice, the figure turned, and to Doc's satisfaction, it was indeed Cross. "Well stripe me, it is you," he said with a grin, quaffing the last of the bottle with ease. Tossing it over his shoulder, Cross approached him, skipping the earlier formalities. "Do you still wish to set sail along side myself? If so then we should return to our previous endevour as soon as possible." Somewhat taken aback by his serious tone, Doc shrugged. "Well, I'm still devoid of a ship, so why not? I'm still down to taggin' along with ya." Suddenly, his cheery smile vanished, and he became deathly serious. "But I come along on one condition. When all this is settled, and we find a place to catch our breath, you and I are gonna have to fight. Not over captaincy, because at this point I could care less. But at some point, hopefully in the near future, you and I are gonna have to cross blades."

There was a slight pause, as Doc continued to stare Cross down. Then, his smile returned, as he patted Cross heartily on the back. "By the way, I'm totally gonna be the helmsman. Trust me, there's no boat that's been made that I can't steer. Now then, first thing is first, a ship. What you got in mind?" He followed Cross's gaze over to a merchant ship, around the same size as the marine ship they'd attempted to commandeer earlier. "That the one you got in mind? Allow me to check it out. And no worries, I won't jump aboard like last time," he said, as he walked almost aimlessly towards the ship. He turned to and fro, as if he were looking for something he'd lost, as he shuffled closer and closer to the ship. He passed the ramp that was used to move from the docks to the ship, spying several hands on deck, many of them moving large crates on or off the ship.

Doing a swift head count, he turned on his heel, trotting back over to Cross. "There doesn't seem to be too many of them, I only counted about seven, and I don't think any of them are warriors anyway. Then again, if there's a below deck, there could be a few more, but I doubt it's anything we can't handle,"

[Badman Zeek]

[black]

It was good seeing Doc take an initiative and scout out the merchant ship they were targetting. For him to have changed so dramatically since a few hours earlier, "That's quite remarkable." Cross thought to himself. But what the pirate held onto the most was what the lad's request was. He wished to clash spirit's with Cross. Of course the battle fanatic would accept those conditions. He himself had hoped to gain an opportunity to spar with Doc. So all would be well. "I shall accept those conditions", Cross replied, with a menacing smile upon that face decorated with inked images. The parting of his lips and miniscule shift in muscle contraction, caused the tattooes to appear as something closer to a contorted face of a demon of some sorts.

Regardless, Cross' facial features were obscured by the demonic entity. Some could consider it to be the young man's true nature. Which would make sense when coupled with his extreme lust for carnage and destruction. It was Cross' urge to cause bloodshed that would caused him to speed through the crowd towards their target, the moment Doc conveyed the information about the approximate numbers thay would be up against. An interesting concept to entertain. Indeed it was; For Cross it wasn't something to hinder his advances towards the merchant ship.

[Teal]"Hey you! What are you doing over here? Be gone!"[/Teal]

Such was the greeting Cross received from a Merchant who had finished unloading a crate onto the pier. His fellow Merchants on both the pier and ship seemed to follow suit, dropping what they had been doing to observe the flow of the conversation. course they had every right to suspect Cross of being a pirate or thief of some sorts. For who else would walk up to Merchants while wielding a sword, and still have a menacing smirk plastered on their face. A look that wouldn't change until he chose to reply.

"I'm just a pirate in search of a ship with the help of a young lad", Cross replied while sticking his right thumb over his shoulder to identify Doc as his "young lad".

Having introduced them as pirates Cross was certain the merchants would take the hint and prepare to defend themselfs. Only problem for them however was that Cross was far too eager to allow all the men to move onto the pier at once. Performing a quick draw the pirate targetted the wooden ramp with an arching force, that chopped clean through its target.

[Teal]"Ah, so that is how it is going to be."[/Teal] Said the one who had addressed Cross previously. It was clear to the pirate that his message had been received by the Merchant who proceeded to draw out a rather large hunting knife. In the distance Cross could hear other weapons being drawn out.

"Doc prepare yourself, for it seems we're in for another party."

By now the people flooding the surroundings were aware of the conflict taking place. If all went accordingly, even the Marines would bge alerted of the two pirates. Following his own advice, Cross resheathed his sword.

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[Doc]

The look on Cross's face seemed to take on a darker nature, as he agreed to Doc's terms. Slightly taken aback by his sudden change, Doc remained motionless as Cross marched passed him, heading towards the ship. The look in his eye actually made Doc shiver, as he followed behind him. As they neared the ship, one of the hands on deck halted Cross's approach. "Hey you! What are you doing over here? Be gone!" he shouted, drawing the attention of the crew. Some of them leaned over the railing to better see what was going on beneath them. Doc nonchalantly reached for the dagger like weapon at the front of his waistband, drawing it out with a practiced ease. "I'm just a pirate in search of a ship with the help of a young lad" As if on cue, Doc popped out from behind Cross, waving smartly. "Evening gents!"

The men on deck exchanged looks as they made their way to the board connecting the ship to the dock. "Ah, so that is how it is going to be," the man said, drawing a large knife. Likewise, the men who made their way down to the pier drew weapons as well, knives or small blades. "Doc prepare yourself, for it seems we're in for another party," Cross called. Smiling now, Doc flipped his dagger in the air, snapping it into it's full spear form. Spinning the spear above his head with the practice of a man who was born with it in his hand, Doc charged at the side of the boat. Planting his spear into the ground, he vaulted almost straight up over the banister of the ship. He landed with the thud dead into its center, his spear clutched in his right hand.

On the deck were 4 men, as the other 5 made their way towards Cross. "Alright gentlemen, I promise to make this quick and as painless as possible. You can come at me all at once or one at a time, I could care less how we do this," he said, spreading his legs. He grasped his spear haft with both hands, as the first man rushed at him with a powerful overhand swing. Deflecting the blow to the side, Doc stepped up and drove his left knee into the man's stomach, knocking him back. His comrades leapt forward to aid him, each swinging a blade towards Doc. Raising his spear up again, he blocked all three blows with ease, the men struggling to push him down. "Way too easy man. Try harder," he said, letting go of the shaft.

He stepped forward, punching two of the men at the same time. The third man stumbled forward, losing his balance. He turned around, catching the bottom of one of Doc's clogs as he threw a kick. Slumping backwards, the man hit his head on the side of the deck, before sliding to the floor. The man he'd kneed first stood up, his knife still clutched in his hand. He eyed his fallen comrades warily, before looking back at Doc. "Yeah, go ahead. I'm unarmed, now's your chance," Doc encouraged. The man hesitated, sensing a trap, before rushing Doc headlong with a yell. Stepping back to avoid his initial swing, Doc's fist darted forward, catching the man in the jaw. Staggering from the blow, the man tried to swing his knife again. Catching his arm, Doc drove his fist into the man's stomach.

The wind knocked out of him, the man fell to the ground, joining his friends. "Way too easy man..." he muttered, stepping over the unconscious form of one of the men. Stepping to the edge of the ship, he yelled down to the docks "All done up here Cross, just waitin' on you!"

[Badman Zeek]

[black]

Shortly after making their intentions known to the merchants Doc had gone off and boarded the ship, bringing up uneasy feelings and a reminder off what had occurred the first time they had attempted to commandeer a ship. Part of giving the young man a second chance included discovering if the mistakes from earlier were indeed mistakes, and Doc was truly capable of holding his own against the marines. Taking a glimpse of the lad's actions on deck Cross felt his body relax as he was relived to see Doc was working his way through his opponents with ease. Such was a man he could put faith in. That was the Doc worthy of setting the sails.

Of course such a vigorous display of violence forced the pirate back to his own quarrel. Surprising the merchant before him hadn't made any attempt to lunge at him while Cross observed his partners actions. Was it fear or respect that held the man at bay. No matter the reason Cross was glad. Had the man attempted to act while Cross' attention was drawn the pirate would have shed far more of the man's blood than necessary considering he only sought a ship.

"Shall we follow their lead and participate in the fray?"

Although the pirate held an intent look in his eyes as if he truly wished to know the man's answer, his mouth was curved into a unique smirk that hinted that the question was rhetorical. The merchant must have been in the trade for a long time because he quickly caught on and assumed his stance before inching backwards to create some distance.

Cross was quite sure the merchant would have some type of ranged weapon and such was the reason for his actions, so his reaction was relatively simply; He resumed his drawing stance before drawing his sword once more, unleashing yet another projected blade that hacked off one of the man's legs and continued by to cleave through a box of goods along the pier.

In the distance Cross could hear the shouts off oncoming Marines trying to push through the crowd of people observing the scene he and Doc had caused. If they wanted to get out of their with little confrontation they would have to get going soon, but the Marines would soon be within proximity and would surely have riflemen amongst their numbers. Cross shook his head at the thoughts of holes in his new ship, while coming to the realization that he would have to defend the ship long enough for dock to begin setting sail.

"Doc! Begin setting sail while I have some fun with these Marines. I should be able to hold them off for a while..."he shouted up to his mate while turning in the direction of the marines. With his adrenaline pumping the young pirate was prepared to take on the relatively small amount of Marines who had emerged from the crowd of on lookers.

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[Doc]

Doc threw a smart salute towards Cross, before turning around to survey the ship. "Welp, better get started," he said with a smile. He quickly ran to center of the ship, grabbing the rope that tied down the sails. Giving it a tug, the sails flew open with a flourish as the wind caught them. "Whoa now, we don't wanna leave just yet..." he said with a chuckle. Running down below decks, he quickly surveyed the ship's stores, making sure there was enough food for them to last for a few days at least. "Yeah, this should do just fine. Ooh look, rum!" he exclaimed, helping himself to a bottle.

Returning to the upper deck, Doc clenched the bottle's cork with his teeth, removing it with a sharp jerk of his head. Taking a large swig of the bottle, he moved to the side of the ship, looking over it's edge. "Guess I'd better raise anchor," he said. Resting the bottle on the edge of the ship, he went over near the front of the ship. There he found what looked like a ship steering wheel laid on it's side. Grabbing one of the protruding parts of the wheel, he began to push it with his body, slowly raising the anchor. A rhythmic clicking sound could be heard as the chain of the anchor wound itself up. When it had been fully raised, Doc sat down hard, breathing heavily. "That's no joke. That thing is pretty heavy." Reaching up, he grasped the neck of the rum bottle, pulling it down towards him. Drinking deeply, he let out a belch before calling out to Cross "Hey Cross, the sail is raised! Waitin' on you my man!"