Post by EriChar on Jan 11, 2012 17:29:52 GMT -5
“Checkmate.” It was a single word that formed a damning declaration, said a white haired man who was sitting in a deckchair and lifting a dark gloved hand away from a chess piece slowly. Around the man were a trio of tables, each with a chess set on, and all but the one to his left accompanied by another player wearing a defeated expression. However, soon after the utterance of checkmate, the player on the left table quickly joined his fellows. The white haired man coolly picked up a pair of fresh, thick cigars and cut them both, before placing them into his mouth and lighting them. Taking a long drag on them both simultaneously, the lowered face of the smoking man raised slightly as he watched his board game opponent’s eyes flash all over the board, desperate to see some kind of opening that could have exploited to their benefit. However, as the stream of pale cloud was released from the lungs of the white haired-smoker, his opponent’s failure to find that impossible breach became woefully apparent when they slumped into a defeated position in their own deck chair.
Taking the cigars from his mouth, the smoking man regarded each of his opponents one at a time for a moment, before he spoke to them as a group.
“Not bad, you’ll need to up your game for next time though…” The smoking man said, his face showing very little in the way of emotion, almost like a blank slate that a pair of cigars was returned to.
The smoking man then climbed out of his chair, and the three of them in perfect unison harmonised a “Thank you very much, sir!” and threw up a synchronised salute to their apparent superior officer
“Makes the journey shorter…” The Smoking Sir said to his saluting subordinates, returning the compliments he was paid with his own salute.
“You better get back to your posts before we get to the base though.” He warned the men, stepping away from them and slowly treading over the deck of the ship they were currently dwelling on, sucking on his cigars. The Smoking sir was shirtless, his chest and arms showing an enviable set of sculpted musculature in their exhibition. A dark pair of pants was worn by the smoking man, tucked into equally dark boots just below his knees.
The smoking man laid his elbows on the gunwale, letting out a quiet sigh of white smoke as he observed the rolling waves around the ship, enjoying a moment of quiet contemplation. The seas were calm, a change from the manic weather that sent the crewmen scrambling on their usual Grand Line journeys. The settling of the waves and weather, the calming meant that the ship that carried them was getting close to an island, and if the hands had done their job it was the island they intended.
The smoking man wrapped his index and middle fingers around the diminishing batons of his cigar and took a deep, long drag on them both. The smoke kept in his lungs for a second, his gripping fingers lifted the cigars from his lip and to his side, and the smoking man turned and looked upwards, to the sky. The smoking man observed the clouds passing over the canvas of the blue sky, and the soaring and squawking outline of seagulls swept in and out of his eye line. Finally liberating the gas he had been keeping inside his lungs, the Smoking man released another haze of white smoke above his head, watching the cloud that he released spread and fade into the sky.
And as moments do, this one, that the man had taken to appreciate quiet and contemplation, passed away from him as soon as he heard the voice of a particular subordinate.
“Commodore Smoker!” rang out the high pitched tones of a woman, and the smoking man lowered his gaze to observe a dark haired woman in glasses offering him a salute.
“We should be arriving at G-6 shortly.” The bespectacled woman told ‘Commodore Smoker’, who for a moment said nothing, simply gave a slow, almost-nod.
“Yeah, Tashigi.” The commodore said and moved back to the deck chair where he had been playing chess only a few moments earlier, where he found a thick looking coat draped over the back.
“I know…” Smoker said, perhaps a tiny hint of irritation showing in his smooth tone, before he scooped the coat up and looked towards the horizon.