CP9 Recruitment Test Subject #002: Soru (Mimic)

[Lord Bromosalino]

Folders and papers had completely commanded every square inch of the large, wooden desk, completely covering the dark wood with endless files, updates, and profiles. Atop the mountain of data, three folders were stacked above the rest, opened, revealing their contents. The middle one was less full than the other two, and was really of no real interest to the six foot eight, new director of Cipher Pol 9; Commodore Ralph Slate. The middle file contained only a few pages, detailing the profile and efforts of the second Director who had taken over since Spandam’s leave from the agency. This Director’s efforts, as honest as they had been, had been quite unsatisfactory, leaving the ‘Higher Ups’ with no other option but to replace her with Director Slate. However, the first folder had been a completely different story. A man only known by the name as the Director, even to the World Government, had consumed the current Director’s mind as he labored over his profile and data for countless hours. Though he too had ultimately failed, he had managed to produce two candidates of considerable potential. Yet, it was his unquenchable ambition that had led to his demise, very much like the former Director Spandam.

The third file contained a few papers as the second had, and held the information of one of the potential candidate, one who seemed to be able to go the farthest with this program; Demetri Latvidas. He, along with the other candidate, had managed to complete the training that the first Director had started. As a result, Mr. Latvidas had been equipped with the deadly, though incomplete, Shigan. This accomplishment, in and of itself, was quite commendable. However, the rising CP9 trainee had all the right qualities that Ralph Slate could have hoped for, something he saw lacking in the other candidate; coldness, emptiness. He was a killer, devoid of any emotion, distancing himself from anything that would hinder him. His profile had been quite a good read, especially the part where Demetri had killed his own friend for aiding pirates. That, then, was what had made Demetri so suited to the program.

With a sigh, the mammoth of a man leaned back into his cushioned chair, the legs creaking ever so slightly as he did. The heat on this island had become unbearable, yet he would continue to humor his obsession; smoking, which only made his tent even more stuffy. With a click, click, fst, the silver lighter had produced a spark, igniting the cigarette. With a puff, the man set about his work once more, aware of the six eyes that watched his every movements. The ever faithful twins of the first Director, Fae and Mae, had remained with Ralph, almost as if they were waiting, hoping for their beloved Director to return. Once it had been clear that he would most certainly not be returning, they continued to follow Ralph regardless. Not that they had taken a great liking to them, but rather, or so he thought, that they enjoyed the special status that came along with being the personal aide to the Director. However, it was the older set of eyes that made Ralph Slate uneasy, though it was most certainly not out of fear. Grandmaster Roku, though he would never tolerate any person of any rank speak his name aloud, sat crouched on a chair, always watching the Director work. Like all the ninjas of Crysiland Island, he was clad in black clothing, his lower face covered as well. The Grandmaster had been here for countless years, some claiming that he had been here for over one-hundred years. Two years ago, when Ralph Slate had first come to the island, the Grandmaster had supervised his own training, though neither had any love for each other. If anything, there was a mutual respect of sorts. Still, having the Grandmaster watch his every movements, as if he were still a student, made the Director uneasy. In fact, both of the previous Director’s had commented on Grandmaster Roku’s unnerving presence, though nothing would be done; he was far to valuable and knowledgeable to be dismissed or corrected in a way that might have provoked him.

Click, Click, Fst, Click, Click

Open, close, open, light, close, open, close. A sure sign that their Director was agitated, though it was probably just the heat. They were really in a dry spell. The inseparable duo glanced at each other, though neither spoke. Just as the new Director hadn’t been used to their ever present company, they too hadn’t felt fully comfortable around him as well. At least, though, that wretched candidate Natalia would no longer be able to steal their beloved Director’s attention away from them.

Slam!

His eyes were too sore to be continuously studying the endless reports, evident by the faint black marks under the brown eyes. Closing the heavy folders abruptly, another long puff was taken on the burning cigarette, as a few ashes fell to the floor. Waving away the trio as if they were nothing but tiny, black flies, a special annoyance of island, the Director made it clear that he was in no mood to be stared at for countless hours. With a grimace, or so the Director had imagined would be under the cloth coverings, the two female ninja followed their master into the heat, obviously annoyed of being shooed out of the comfort of the shade that the tent had provided. Before Fae…or was it Mae? He still couldn’t be sure. Either way, before the last one was fully outside of the tent flaps, the Director called out after her, a tone of weariness present in his voice.

“Send in Mr. Latvidas.

Two weeks on this island, and he was already weary. It was no wonder that the previous Directors spoke of weariness so often in the confides of their reports.

[White Mimic]

Long had it been since Demetri’s face-off with nature and, less climactically, his duel with the native assailant. His wounds had healed well and training had more or less slowed down, to his relief, giving him the time he wanted to iron out the details of the recently acquired Shigan. Of course, completely mastering one of the Rokushiki in only a matter of weeks was difficult to do, even for a prodigy it was said by some of the ninja he had been able to speak with. They had said that a skill taken to its maximum efficiency quickly, as skilled as the student was, often carried the danger of pushing the body too hard and overall dampening the individual’s use of the technique. Or at least, that is what he had been advised by the locals, ninja so highly skilled in Rokushiki it would have been foolish to not heed their words. That said, Demetri thought a week or so to get the hang of Shigan, but still to this day he had only performed some version of it once.

In the tent he was staying in for the course of training, the ninja of the village had helped him set up a Shigan training dummy, a hollow wooden mannequin, simple in shape and ornament, the only noteworthy details being the swirling sinews of wooden grain and petrified sap lining the eddying trails. True to its home, the shaped wood seemed crystalline, as if it were cleaved from a geode and molded with the utmost purpose of its current form. The wood was much harder than he had originally suspected at the beginning of his private training sessions with some of the other ninja who had offered him tips and exercises. The strength was comparable to the stones of most islands he had seen and was likely what spurred the level of skill and discipline of the local ninja.

The wooden body was riddled with slight imperfections, divots and dents that barely ruined the surface, Demetri’s many attempts at performing the Shigan as before. Needless to say, he still hadn’t assimilated the technique, not just yet. He knew what he was trying to accomplish, the mechanics of the skill as he had performed it before, but his body and/or mind simply wouldn’t allow success. To his understanding Shigan was the sudden tension of muscles in a body with enough strength and the extension of tendon with enough speed to be able to break the through strong materials with even a single finger. Wood, stone, even metal could be rended with the technique, so of course the same could be said for flesh, the most important material to readily destroy in Demetri’s current line of work. Regardless, no amount of physical knowledge or psychological readiness was enough to take on the lifeless doll.

He perched himself on a small stool on the other side take on the lifeless doll, hands neatly folded in front of his face as he looked the minimal damage on the mannequin, analyzing what he had been doing. Compared to what he remembered he had done to that crystalline alligator, his progress was plateauing and was nowhere near the level at which he wished himself to be. Each dent he had made so far was, from memory, created through different means. Some had to do with the shape of his hand, others the stance of his footing, a few were even the products of the states of mind he could’ve been in when he performed Shigan the first time. Although, those damages created with various cerebral maneuvers were amongst some of his most poor attempts so he had since discarded them as a viable means to recreate his success. Anything short of endangering his own life perhaps would prove fruitless, but even this wouldn’t be the most desirable means of perfecting his technique. This was not because it put his personal wellbeing at stake but more because he didn’t want to condition himself to only managing Rokushiki in situations where he was situated with the utmost peril.

Following the sinews of the mannequin up and down several times, Demetri let out a slight sigh carrying only cold neutrality. As frustrating as it was, he had to accept the fact that mastering a Rokushiki would take time and that any shortcut he could think of wouldn’t work or would do more harm than good in the long run. After all, he had been able to learn Kiri at his own pace which was fairly quickly, not as difficult as a full Rokushiki technique but a sure sign that he just needed to keep at it. Still, the desire to understand the technique in its entirety remained. Some things were simply learned quicker and better with the right prior knowledge.

As he continued studying the damages on the training dummy, focusing mostly on the most recent divot he had made yesterday using a flat hand with two steps walk-in, the flap to his tent flipped open slightly, the sweet feminine voice cooing in. “The director would like to see you now.” Fae, one of the local ninja that played assistant to the director of the week with her twin sister Mae. They may have been twins but even twins could develop physical differences, obvious or slight, that could be visibly seen. Granted, Demetri’s superior eyesight was most definitely a factor that assisted in his ability to distinguish the two. “Yes. Right away. Thank you.” She had dropped the flap as soon as she had finished talking, not waiting for his response, but he figured she at least had to be in earshot still. Didn’t seem like she had anywhere to be and an assumption that she hadn’t Soru’d away seemed safe. Standing up from the stool, Demetri readjusted his tie and removed the jacket hanging from the rope at the top of the tent, donning it gingerly as he stepped out of the tent and began the light walk to the Director’s tent.

---

“Yes sir?” Several minutes later, Demetri had stepped into the tent belonging to the new director. It was larger than most of the other tents being used by the ninja, his own included, and he had only allowed himself in when it became obvious no one else was inside. The inside was well equipped for a tent, decorated with a writing desk and padded chair where the director sat, objects more suited to a ship’s captain’s quarters. Stacks of paper littered the desk, and from what Demetri could make out through the thick, pungent smoke in the tent, they were the typical marine paperwork and for the most part were none of Demetri’s business for he was not authorized or requested to look over them. The view was nostalgic though. When he wasn’t working Spec.Ops jobs for the marines, he was in information and logistics, working with papers and documents, filing, notarizing, authenticating, recalling, the whole bureaucracy was a field of memories he had of the marines. He actually enjoyed it, in his own way, nothing but a man left to his thoughts as he awaited the moments arrival.

This director was much bigger than the others, male, broad and muscular, more body fat than what Demetri had associated desk work to but no matter, people had different self-preferences. Demetri stood right by the entrance to the tent, staring straight at the larger man with his cold eyes. On the desk, Demetri saw a few stray files, none of which were easily distinguishable through the piles of other papers. Perhaps they were documents on other CP9 trainees, perhaps one was his, perhaps they were just office work the director had brought over to finish while he supervised the training. It truly was no business of Demetri’s but, being a logistics rat for the marines at some point, there was no denying he was curious. Of course, he would never ask to see or make blatant attempts to view the files, such was not his current directive.

[Lord Bromosalino]

“Yes sir?”

So this was Demetri Latvidas. Tall, slender, almost to the point of being lanky, professional in both his appearance and choice of words. This had been the two men’s first meeting, both were no doubt sizing the over other, pondering their value and worth. The deep brown eyes of the giants were locked with the subordinate’s grey eyes, neither of which seemed to give off any emotion, a wall stood between the two. They did not know each other, they did not know the others capabilities, though the fact that these two were all that remained of the once mighty Cipher Pol spoke of the two men’s worth.

After a silent moment, the mammoth relented, letting out a deep breath, almost as if Commodore Ralph had been trying to breathe out the very weariness that lay deep within his bones. Rummaging through the mountains of paper that lay scattered across his desk, the Director was able to find and retrieve another folder, almost as slender as the young agent that stood waiting, his eyes watching with a peculiar interest. Throwing open it’s contents, only two papers were found inside, each with a portrait at the top of the thick, white paper. With a painful groan, the poor chair shook and struggled to hold the weight of the gargantuan man. With a final puff, the Director simply dropped whatever remained of the cigarette onto the dirt below, watching as the ash fell, mixing into the dirt. Weary eyes did not even look upon the papers, he had seen them enough times to have nearly memorized every piece of information that was engraved into them. Commander Zekken. Mailene Mercer. Warlords. Even to a man who spent his very beings deep within the shadows, Ralph Slate had only recently learned of this new development within the World Government. Even for the man who led the most powerful Cipher Pol division, he had only a slight grasp on who or what this new division. Though that was partially due to the fact that for the past year or so, Ralph Slate hadn’t kept his ears to the hustle and bustle of the World Government. His time had been preoccupied with CP9.

“Mr. Latvidas, my name is Commodore Ralph Slate. You may call me ‘Director’, however. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Pushing the groaning chair back, the giant of a man stood and outstretched a massive hand to his subordinate, something which the Director knew well enough was ‘out of the ordinary’. After all, the last two Directors had no name outside of… well, the Director. This lack of communication seemed absurd to the Marine, hence his greeting. Over a decade of experience as a leader had taught Commodore Slate the importance of mutual respect between individuals. Without it, no real work, no real progress could be made. If anything, it would only serve to detract from the learning that was to be done here. And though Ralph himself would not directly teach the recruits, for that was why this island was chosen after all, he would directly supervise and intervene at points. Therefore, a mutual respect and understanding was pivotal to the relationship between Director and Agent.

A snort could be heard, faintly, from the back of the tent. The Grandmaster of the ninja, Master Roku, had been the source of such a disrespectful sound, yet the Director knew the reason well enough without having to be told. Names were not so easily exchanged within the ninja culture, almost as if a name was a sacred object that needed protection. In fact, Ralph Slate himself had once uttered the name of the Master in a casual manner -before Commodore Slate had been appointed the position he held today- and had seen the full extent of the old man’s fury, a lesson the wary Marine soon learned.

Opening his mouth to speak once more, the Director held his tongue back as he noticed that Mae and Fae had each entered the tent again, with the longer haired female (Fae was it? Yes, it had to be) nodding, a signal that this shadowy new division had arrived to the crystal island. Their ship would be docking near the western side of the island, and from there they would, with a guide that had already been appointed, take a short walk to the northern side of the island and then trek through thick jungles to reach the Cipher Pol camp. The walk was no more than ten, maybe fifteen minutes. It was time to inform Mr. Latvidas of the new residents that would temporarily reside on the island of ninja.

“In a few moments, a Commander Zekken and a Mailene Mercer will join us here. I’ll skip the overview until they arrive. Should be any minute now.”

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'This is going to be boring, isn't it..'
'Don't be so quick to judge.'
'Well whats the deal with these guys, anyway?'

'They've been a hundred years ahead of us in regards to advanced techniques since anyone can remember, as have many of the islands this one specifically is connected too. We owe them more so than they owe us for their teachings, and are the main reason so many of our strongest men and women are at the front-lines with ease.'

'Stamping justice right into those weaklings, right darlin'?'
'Haha, why didn't you just say that in the first place?!'
'I swear she gets her brutish flair from you, dear.'

'Nice to see you again Zekken.'
'Like-wise Mercer..'

The clap of hands connecting to shake caused quite a wave of noise to bounce off into the open areas of the island, a true masculine action worthy of such romance. 'I trust you'll take good care of my daughter as always.' Zekken nodded with his usual emotionless expression, glancing over to the girl in question as she was being fussed about with her mother. 'You know we could have brought her here ourselves..' The large and muscular man let out a chuckle at the thought, glancing over to his daughter with the shake of his head. 'She insisted that she spend some time with us on the trip, we're making our way around the Grand Line anyway so, it wasn't that much of a bypass on our route.' A grunt of approval from both men finished the pleasantries, looking to Mailene readjusting her hair and wiping her mothers attempts at cleaning her up off her face. 'You take good care of our girl now 'ya hear 'ya big oaf?!' Zekken for once smirked at best, raising his hands in defence in hopes of assuring the tall slim lady as she gave a light wave to Mailene and strode back up the ship along with her husband. 'You call us the moment you're back at base, you understand young lady?' Mailene mimicked her guardian with the same sheepish grin and raised hands to automatically agree with the woman's crazy onslaught. And with a few more waves and barking orders the large vessel of impressive style and grandeur launched off into the waves, out of sight before you knew it.

'Your parents are as lively as ever..'
'They're so embarrassing..'

As if in sync from the action before, both spun on their one foot to glance over at the situation before them, a vast island with a hint of vintage to it, for lack of a better explanation, though they weren't here to admire the views. As if predicting her next move Zekken lowered his giant arm, Mailene pressing her foot agaisnt it and climbing up onto his shoulder as elegantly as can be, the large marine uniform cladded Commander starting his strides towards the place in question... Speaking of. 'Oioi, Zekkee.' So the nicknames began, his sigh of annoyance also taken as a sigh of attentiveness to her curiosities. 'What do they need me here for then?' At least the question was of some value, at least is was as far as Zekken was concerned, and compared to half of the things the crazy little lady asked. 'Do you want the long version, or the short version..' Mailene pondered, even making multiple noises to verbally express her thoughts. 'How longs the trip?' Zekken looked off, tilting his head. '.. The long version, please.' He inhaled, a small story ahead of him.

'The Cipher Pol have been stationed here for a while now, and with their abilities and expertise they've been trying to expand outside of their usual execution groups.. With this comes new members learning the ropes from the ground up to become well-trained assassins for the World Government. In light of the beginning of this process happening in parallel to the Shadow Cabinet, the Committee felt it a worth-while practice to merge the two recruiting parties together, that way we train two birds with one process.'

Silence ensued, expected from Zekken who had complete his explanation, though to hear no response to any of it from the very definition of social-insanity was something that he did not predict. 'Hey Zekkee, d'you think I could have some of the stones they have here?' She didn't listen to a single thing he said. 'We'll be meeting with the Director and one of their recruits, you'll hear from him exactly what you're going to be doing, though if it makes you feel any more exited for this, I'm pretty sure its going to involve punching people in the face.' This seemed to ring a few positive chimes, a content chirp and giddy clap at the thought of beating up anything around here seemed to be a wish of hers.. Though the idea that something may have had to come with it planted a specific seed, the idea of effort came into play, and she immediately slumped up agaisnt the side of Zekken's face. 'Look sharp now, this guys going to be more serious than I am, make a good impression alright?' Despite her childish antics and very fickle attention span on things, when it came down to the point, Mailene knew when to act the part. The tone which spewed out his honest desire for her to do something was the only way he could ever really get through to her. And with a lift and a shuffle they were side by side in front of the tent in question, pushing back their own sheets of obstruction into the conversation.

'Zekken, and this is Mailene..'
'Reporting for duty!~'

[White Mimic]

“Mr. Latvidas, my name is Commodore Ralph Slate. You may call me ‘Director’, however. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The Director offered a hand to Demetri which he keenly stared at for a good several moments in reluctance. Certainly he had shook hands before but the opportunities to do so with much higher ranking marines were few and far between, mostly as his line of work didn’t lend itself well to recognition unless a very high priority target had been dispatched. He gingerly placed his hand within the grip of the one he had been offered, one much bigger than his own, and shook it lightly. A man having grown into strict order and regulation through working with the marines, it caused him discomfort to venture from the rulebook, even in the slightest, but the feeling would pass eventually he was sure. “Likewise, Director.”

Behind him there was a slight noise, one of great disapproval. Demetri slowly turned to face the Grandmaster Ninja, gradually letting his hand slip from the Director’s. He didn’t know particularly why he didn’t approve of this but Demetri assumed it to be his own doing in some manner. Ever since he came to the island, his reception had been frosty at best and without any indication as to why. He remembered he had gotten into an engagement with one of the ninja here during his Shigan orientation mission, though he was a little hazy as to particular details as a result of his heavy herbal medication following the brutal mission. He had only narrowly escaped asphyxiation after all through an unfocused, untrained Shigan technique which he was still unable to recreate. He wondered if the grandmaster had anything to do with the attack made on him during his mission but quickly dismissed the idea of confronting him about it. There was no telling what would follow, and the combat expertise of the locals far outweighed his own practice. He began to turn back to his new Director, rotating his head slightly in order to meet the his eyes but quickly aborted the movement as someone entered the tent. Facing the wall of the tent, Demetri swiveled his view towards the entrance to the tent. His peripherals revealed whom he recognized to be Mae and Fae, a head movement from one of them, and then their disappearance.

While no sound had been made within the tent, there was a tension of conversation. Secrets Demetri had not been let in on yet passed back and forth between the director and each ninja that had at one point been in the tent since Demetri had entered himself. How counter-productive, to work amongst the Cipher Pol and have nary any indication of what dark machinations operated around him. Surely, he would be on the same page in all due time but he still felt there was no need or excuse for such secrecy in this seclusion. Unless of course he was the foreigner that was not to know. The thought mulled around for a bit in his head and he quickly decided that it was not likely a good indication, this. Mayhaps this was all related to the training.

“In a few moments, a Commander Zekken and a Mailene Mercer will join us here. I’ll skip the overview until they arrive. Should be any minute now.”

Demetri stared silently at the Director, inquisitive as to the nature behind these peoples’ necessity to him but remained silent as the Director had only just said when he would explain. On the desk with the papers and files, the Director had left open the file he opened only moments before, and through the smoke in the air, Demetri saw the two portraits. Man and girl. Likely the Commander Zekken and Mailene Mercer that he had spoke of. From where he stood, the faces seemed skewed, they were stretched, distorted, and upside-down. The orientation was not a difficult obstacle to manage but the angle made several features seem different than he suspected would look like in person but Demetri didn’t ask if he could take a closer look for if it were any of his concern, he would’ve been offered the file upon introduction of their names. He would have to wait and see, wouldn’t he. Finished looking at the squished, rotated photos, Demetri turned away, crossing glances with the Grandmaster at the edge of the room. They stared at each other for several moments before Demetri ended up being the first to turn away. He didn’t want to describe the ninja’s look as a glare but couldn’t bring himself to look at him anymore. It felt like judgement.

---

“Zekken, and this is Mailene…”
“Reporting for duty!~”

Demetri, in his wait for the new arrivals, these, he had migrated towards the front of the tent, near the door, but had stationed close to the edge so as not to get slapped by even the most violently flung flap. He watched as the two entered, studying them briefly, comparing them to what he could make of their pictures. He hadn’t realized how young Mailene was but figured he had seen younger recruits before. However, as she had no rank, she couldn’t have been affiliated with the marines or any other sort of militia. For what exactly were they bringing in a civilian? The other, Commander Zekken was rather tall and imposing, quite masculine. He had to be at least a foot taller than Demetri and unarguably ‘broader’ in the sense he must’ve had a position favoring a heightened physical presence in the marines.

When he was finished looking them both over, which didn’t take long, he continued to face them but turned his eyes towards the director. He realized that they probably knew who the director was so his eyes served more the purpose of saying that he would not speak to them unless they were first approved by his superior. However, for a split second, when he could no longer be seen, Demetri took another quick look at the two before returning his gaze to the Director’s own presence. In doing so, he suddenly felt a hole being stared into his head, probably the grandmaster ninja realizing his ‘lack of focus’. Or perhaps he was just paranoid. Either case, he dared not look to check.

[Lord Bromosalino]

“Ah, Commander Zekken, Mrs. Mercer. It’s a pleasure. I am Director Slate and this is Mr. Lativdas.”

Outstretching a massive hand out to an equally imposing man (who remarkably stood a few inches taller than Commodore Ralph Slate himself), the Director stretched out the same courtesy he had previously shown to Demetri, who had taken the brief moments of silence to merge towards the back of the tent, allowing the two high ranking Marine Officials discuss the business at hand. With that, two ninjas, both of a young and tender age, entered the cool of the tent, carrying two simple chairs that were set up directly in front of the Director’s own looming desk. With a gesture, the gigantic Marine offered these seats to his guests, sure that they would be grateful to rest after their journey. Director Ralph himself pulled out another cigarette and lit it, offering one to Commander Zekken as well. A final deep sigh, a long drag on the burning cigarette, and it was time to get down to business. Sensing this, the Grandmaster rose from his place and disappeared, like a shadow in the night, before anything could be said to him. The old man could never find himself interested in Marine activity. Today was no different.

As usual, the island of Crysiland was fairly warm, with the heat and humidity rising even in the early morning. By noon, the temperatures could become unbearable to any of those unfortunate enough to be subjected to its blistering heat waves. With that, irritation and clumsiness ensued. A perfect situation for what the Director had in mind. Experience was the greatest teacher, by far. Theory, of course, had its place, though it was limited to be sure. It was the actual hands on experience in which humans learned best, working with their hands, putting into practice what they had learned, testing their skills and knowledge against another human being. This, then, was life’s greatest teacher. Originally, the Director had toyed with the idea of putting Demetri against Mailene Mercer; but now, seeing Mailene, the idea that was already being disassembled was shattered completely. The bright eyed, blue haired girl was nothing more than a child, short in both her years and in stature, though her position within the shadowy group did speak volumes of who she was rather than her physical appearance. However, should such a test be given, the results would not have yielded any desirable results. These two were brought for the purpose of temporarily joining the two groups. Such a competition would have led to more negatives than positives. For that reason, another route was decided upon by Director Slate.

Running a hand through the already messy and spiky hair, Director Ralph Slate half-stood, handing the profile of Demetri Latvidas and Mailene Mercer to the imposing Commander. It was important that the Marine knew that CP9 was not stuck in the dark when it came to the other Marine Divisions, regardless of how far back in the dark this group was. Besides, nothing garnered trust like a mutual exchange of information.

Giving the man a moment to glance over the folder, the Director rose and turned his back to his guests to face the map that was pinned behind the mahogany chair before he began to lay out his plan, something of which was still in the works.

“As you’ve heard, no doubt, CP9 has been struggling as of late since the Straw Hat incident. I’ve been here for only a month, and already I’m scrambling to pick up the pieces that my predecessors left me, a monumental task. That is why you are here Commander Zekken, Mrs. Mercer. As I’ve relayed to the Commander, you and Demetri Latvidas will be forming a temporary team.”

Facing the three residents of the tent once more, weary brown eyes studied each person, his eyes lingering on Demetri for a few seconds before continuing, this time moving around the tent in a slow, yet his movements were tense.

“I understand that this information is quite unusual and unexpected to both of you. However, we believe that both divisions will benefit from this union. I’m sure you both will have questions. I will request that you hold on to them until a later time. Shall we?”

Pushing aside the heavy flap, sunlight streamed into the cozy tent, a wave of heat rushing upon them. Outside, the heavy rays of the sun pierced through every opening, searing the dirt below. Outside, Mae and Fae stood next to the old man, while he was stooped like a hawk upon a tree trunk. Off to the side, a small clearing no more than 20 meters in diameter was occupied by five or six other ninja, each working on skills at their own pace. Mae and Fae had already received their orders last night, though neither seemed to exactly pleased. However, as soon as they had caught the sight of the young woman, the Director quickly intervened, lips pursed as he whispered a stern warning. Sheesh, these two were quite a handful when it came to being around other women. I’ll have to keep an eye on them. The Director was well aware of their ‘violent tendencies’, as the previous Directors had both mentioned. Had they not both been such excellent ninja, Commodore Slate would have quickly released them of their duties. Hopefully, now, these two would behave themselves long enough to complete the exercise the Director had in mind, though caution would force him to be on high alert.

“Commander Zekken, Mrs. Mercer, I’d like you to meet the Grandmaster of the ninja of Crysiland Island, as well as my two aides Mae and Fae. Before we move onto the actual details of what we hope to accomplish with this group, I’d like to assess both Demetri and Mailene’s combat abilities, and more importantly, their ability to work as a two man unit. Mae, Fae, you know the drill. And remember, take it easy.[/b]”[/color]





[/size]

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'Mm, likewise..'
The large Commander leaned in to shake the offered hand.

'Who's this guy? He looks old.'
Mailene, who had wandered off, was shaking another hand.

'The Grandmaster, Mailene.'
He turned to the man, mouthing an apology.

'Oooh~ You 'gotta cool name mister.' The man seemed to acknowledge though never act, as far as his attention on the situation went was to extend a single finger to shake the small hand of the little warlord, taking to his feet and putting his back to the situation upon his exit.. Both a symbolic and silent exit. 'He seems strong..' Despite her usual random verbal suggestions and comments going answered by her large guardian, his professional mode, as she called it had been turned on to the very delicate meeting of marine organisations. He had been handed the file of what seemed to be the blank faced and ever watching eyes of the suit also present in the room, Mailene now lacking the older man to bother had turned to said CP9 recruit, standing right beside him and slowly circling as if examining his person. 'The Cipher Pol in all their divisions have been rather tightly knit since the old days, I guess in this age this would become worse rather than better.' He flicked through the pages, his eyes darting from section to section as if he knew exactly what he was looking for, un-phased by the sudden small girl who climbed up behind him and peeked over his shoulder. 'Do I have one of those?' He gestured over to the one left beside him, her grinning mug-shot stuck into the corner. 'Woooah~.. My hair looks so cool in that..'

'Mm, those guys weren't really what you were expecting, huh?' The Commander flinched, causing Mailene to scramble a little before peeking over once more, the large man clutching onto his waist at the thought of that crews Captain. 'For him to be present at the Execution too, no one expected such progress from a rookie.' The guy sounded like a real badass in her books, though curiosity could not be quenched as the conversation between the two head-honcho's pushed on. 'Its like a trial case, Mailene already has some experience on the field, though when it comes to her future role in justice, some more detailed skills may be required.' The thought of learning cool moves was always a plus for the static teen, and where Mailene had an abundance of arguments which could clearly be seen be her constant facial expressions towards the head-shaking Zekken.. Well it would have to wait it seemed.

The Director continued to explain the situation in more of a broadened light to all parties involved, Mailene unfortunately so focused on her own file, which she flicked through with giggles and pointing fingers while perched upon Zekken's shoulder once more, the majority of in-tent negotiations and conversations went right over her head. As they departed her attention was stirred, her seat after all standing up and walking out into the heat and gleam of the outside world. 'Ah, I changed my mind! Back inside.. Aah, my eyes!' She tumbled to the ground, her antics sadly not even turning a single head while he pretended to melt on the ground, sitting up soon after with her lip pushed off to one side in aggravation. 'Oioi, you could have at least seen how realistic it was Zekkee..' She looked up to him once by his side, realising he had a small smirk on his face.. That was enough for her. Regardless of her little act, she had registered the situation that was supposed to occur in this small space, a trial by pit-fighting between minions and observed by masters. In a way she was itching for a fight, but to have to prove her worth was at least to her a sign of mistrust, or a doubt on her buck.

'I'll pass, I work alone.'
'Mailene..'
'Its degrading! what are we, chickens in a ring?!'
'You'd usually jump at the opportunity to show off.'

'This isn't showing off, this would be a slaughter..' She folded her arms, leaning against one of Zekken's trunk like legs while pushing around her dangling hair covering part of her face. Zekken seemed to mimic her posture, leaning back slightly with the same confined physical attitude, turning his head to catch the Director at the corner of his eye. 'This wouldn't be the first time she's refused to do something she's asked, I wouldn't take offence to it.' Twirling her hair on her finger, Mailene stuck her tongue out to the general idea, and all those who looked at her in the same moment if they wanted to take it that way. Their female company however, or the people the larger men wished for her to fight.. Seemed to protest her refusal to fight, doing the simple task of chuckling in the most formal method possible and pointing fingers in her general direction. 'Eheheheh.. Laugh it up latex..' Her hand raised from its folded position, with nothing more then a single middle finger raised to the two, along with her tongue dangling out one side of her mouth. 'How about you try the suit first, he seems strong enough to take you both down.'

'Demetri, right? You couldn't bare with her for a moment?'
'Bare with?! You don't agree with me?'
'You're making a big deal of it, that's all I'm saying.'
'Psh..'
'Don't let her stop you, agent, this is just a spar after all'

[White Mimic]

((Thank you for your patience. School SHOULD be calming down soon now that certain things are over and all that jazz so I'll be upping the post rate. Here you go.))

Demetri continued to stay silent at the back of the tent, observing the interactions between the Director and Commander Zekken, and between Commander Zekken and Mailene. He noted the similarities and differences between the two adults and took an instant discomfort to Mailene upon watching her move about the environment and display her behavior. She was… too immature for her age and the juxtaposition between childishness and her actual age created a bubble of uncertainty regarding how to approach her personality. Ultimately, Demetri figured he wouldn’t talk to her unless it was necessary.

“As I’ve relayed to the Commander, you and Demetri Latvidas will be forming a temporary team.” Very briefly, Demetri’s eyes flicked to glance at the director with an acrid stare which carried with it the most irritation he would ever dare to show in public (which, was to say, a rather subtle, nearly indiscernible amount) before turning them to the back of Mailene’s head. It figured to be his fortune that this girl was going to be his fetter for this portion of his training, however he was a bigger man than one to identify her as such to her face. Still, if she was to be his temporary partner, her actual utility couldn’t have matched what Demetri believed her persona lead on. He had met many… ‘interesting’ people before, and some of them had even displayed competence. He would simply have to wait and see what she could apply to what they were to accomplish together. As the Director passed him, exiting the tent while continuing to brief the commander, Demetri held the tent flap aside for the Commander and Mailene, perched atop his shoulders, to exit as well, taking rear in line of people removing themselves from the tent. As he stepped out, Mailene fell from the Commander and wriggled around on the ground. Demetri, as reluctant as he would be to admit it, shot her a brief glance to make sure she wasn’t actually hurt. When it became quickly apparent she was fine, he redirected his somewhere else, anywhere else, directly in front of him.

Ninjas. Ninjas everywhere, though not an army, though a respectable amount more than he was yet accustomed to having amassed in front of him with their focus not placed on other more important matters. They were waiting for them, those in the tent. They must have been.

“I'll pass, I work alone.”

“Mailene..”

“It’s degrading! What are we, chickens in a ring?!”

“You'd usually jump at the opportunity to show off.”

“This isn't showing off, this would be a slaughter..”

“Agreed.” Demetri didn’t turn to face anyone as he scoped out the ninjas in front of them. Mae, Fae, a few faces he had never been introduced to personally but had seen once or twice. His voice was as flat as ever but his grim inversion of Mailene’s own boast was clear. She had only just arrived at the camp so she couldn’t have had an accurate idea as to the skills each individual ninja had at immediate disposal. But that was no excuse, and there would be no forgiveness, for her arrogance. Looking at each ninja quickly, Demetri mulled over details. He had very little extensive martial training outside the standard marine’s hand-to-hand martial skill so perhaps he would have to rely on this girl a little more than he had cared for. Perhaps she was trained, perhaps she held a Devil’s ability, there was not much there for his assumption other than that she was trained for justice, dropped by the Commander of course. And of course, he would simply have to see.

"How about you try the suit first, he seems strong enough to take you both down." Then again perhaps she was just as out of place and luck as he was on this island. At her remark, he tilted his head slightly away from her and looked off at the horizon on that side of him. It was his look of annoyance, but his immobile visage always made it look like he noticed something in the distance, roughly 90 degrees to either side, typically his left. He was aware of his facial tells, and could generally restrict the big ones like this, but considering this was his first time with the majority of the people around him, there was no harm in it. None that he could forsee, anyway.

“Demetri, right?” Demetri slowly turned his head to look at Zekken, putting it in the wayward fashion to keep a larger focus ahead of him, on the ninja he would have to fight once more. “You couldn't bare with her for a moment?”

“Bare with?! You don't agree with me?”

“You're making a big deal of it, that's all I'm saying.”

“Psh..”

“Don't let her stop you, agent, this is just a spar after all.”

Turning his head completely to look directly at Zekken, Demetri’s face seemed more grave in its blankness. “I am willing to work with whomever it is deemed fit I work with. But I won’t be the one stopping her.” He returned his view towards the ninja, looking them over once more. Remembering when one of the locals had attacked him, he tilted his head downward ever so slightly but, as always and ever vigilant, he retained focus on the ninja. It came out of nowhere and he still had no definitive reason why, but being the defending party in the attack, he knew all too well the efficiency these ninja had in thoroughly decimating their opponents. If they wanted, they could kill the both of them, Demetri and Mailene, he was sure. Especially without his weapons of choice. “And I assure you, if I was, I would not be able to do it as quickly, coldly, and brutally as what any one of these ninja is capable of.” Speaking of which, after several moments of silence, Demetri then addressed Mailene for the first time.

“Best of luck.”

If she had known him personally, perhaps it would’ve been a bigger deal that these were the words he had chosen.

[Lord Bromosalino]

SPOILER: Click to show

Sorry for the ridiculous wait and semi-short post. But, with a new direction in mind, I think we should be good to go as planned.

“I'll pass, I work alone.”

“Mailene..”

“It’s degrading! What are we, chickens in a ring?!”

“You'd usually jump at the opportunity to show off.”

“This isn't showing off, this would be a slaughter..”

“Agreed.”

'This wouldn't be the first time she's refused to do something she's asked, I wouldn't take offence to it.'

Sigh, I hadn’t thought of this [/color] came the internal thought from the gigantic Director. The man may have, as he feared, sprung the gun to early, so to speak. Hardly had this strange pair arrived on the island than Director Slate had already requested that the young female prove herself. This would become a bother, though, if he couldn’t build a foundation of credibility, influence, and authority with these three that stood before him. Was he too brash, too rough? Still, despite his request, the equally gigantic Director shot a glance back at his colossal… partner, a sure sign that while this type of behavior might have been ‘normal’, it was not to be tolerated by him. Especially with the amount of work the two groups had yet to begin.

“You couldn't bare with her for a moment?”

“Bare with?! You don't agree with me?”

“You're making a big deal of it, that's all I'm saying.”

“Psh..”

“Don't let her stop you, agent, this is just a spar after all.”

And yet, this Mailene was impressively, almost arrogantly, outspoken; something that was well beyond the former Commodore’s scope of experience. He had always commanded with a system that revolved around the classic power chain. Those lower down showed respect and obedience to those above him, and those that were above them were entitled to that respect and authority. And yet, what was being shown between Commander Zekken and this Mailene was a blatant intrusion on such an ideal. However, this was not something that the Director could change. Both he and Zekken were of equal rank, and even if this ‘was’ the Director’s island, such an invasion on the Commander’s authority would have been considered a social taboo within the Marine code of conduct. If such a thing were to happen, salvaging the pieces of the tense partnership would prove to be a task as difficult as the one that had been entrusted to the CP9 Director.

“Best of luck.”

“Enough.” After watching the banter between the quite spoken agent and the little blue-haired ball of energy, the Director had decided that, while he may have been quite overzealous in his decision, he would have to retake command of the present situation. He could already see that the two agents would have some difficulty in terms of teamwork, the tension between the two seemingly escalating after passing only a few words. Even if by some chance that Demetri had fully mastered Shigan and Mailene held some incredible power, without teamwork… well, to be quite honest, they would never survive the training, let alone the task that they were called to accomplish. With a sudden whirl on his heels, the broad shouldered man turned to face the stoic CP9 agent. “How much do you know of rhinos?”

Surely such a question may have seemed so irrelevant, so misplaced considering the context. And yet, for those who knew, this island held great and terrible things just beyond the safety of the camp. Things so terrible in both appearance and power that the first Director had used them to train young recruits. It was risky, to be sure, but what if, just if, these two, Demetri and Mailene, could do it? It was a risk, but with the Director, along with the Commander, supervising, the risks would be drastically reduced. Still, the risks... No, it would be better not to worry about that at the moment.

"Well?"
[/size]

[White Mimic]

“Enough.” Demetri turned to his director at the sudden uttering of the word. It almost sounded as if the director was losing his temper, but in his few years of sworn off temperament, he had to admit he may have lost touch with his own empathy. In any case, it was difficult to judge the mood of his director though if he were a gambling man, he would have wagered on negativity. “What do you know of rhinos?”

“Rhinos?” Immediately, he thought back to his preliminary tests, battling a rhino and nicking an egg from a belligerent alligator, both of which had come in the islands natural crystal varieties and neither test had been a pleasant experience by any means. Of course, considering the circumstances, there were hardly any other kinds of rhinos the director could have been referencing. Thus, Demetri figured he’d have to deal with more of the crystalline beasts. He would’ve asked forgiveness for his lack of enthusiasm at the thought but perhaps with the given history, that wouldn’t be necessary. “If you mean the local native species, I can only say I know their horns and possibly their skeletons have a crystalline composition consistent with the rest of the island. They have also displayed, what I believe to be, a heightened aggression when in heat.” Demetri didn’t talk much about matters like this but when he did, he was usually uncomfortably frank about it. “My preliminary involved an encounter with a belligerent female, though I wasn’t able to subdue her without mortally wounding her.” It may have been several weeks ago, but the scene was still quite vivid in his memory. He had blinded the creature with a jagged rock after being chased up a tree and a cliff, and, to his memory, he had perhaps been a bit overzealous in his desperate self-defense.

“The bone may be more resilient than is typical but the soft tissue is just as weak as any other mammal’s.” He maintained his gaze at the director throughout his perspective demonstration on the island’s fauna, suddenly breaking to address Mailene once more. “If we are to face one, there should be little trouble I would think.” Immediately, his head twisted to face the director again. “Assuming you would have us subdue one?” Demetri’s voice had suddenly become flat at the idea. Surely he wouldn’t be required to repeat a task to the point of its mediocrity, he had proven he was able to handle an aggravated beast. Granted, he could see the benefit in doing it again with a partner, to demonstrate his ability to work with others. After all, what use would he be to an agency if he was only able to work solo? An inability to work within a team would be indicative of his situational applications, he’d only operate every so often, wouldn’t be able to enact his own justice.