Starting Something Special

[Aubs]

Still being at Marineford was a bit taxing on the new Captain. He did not have the best experience in this little slice of the Grand Line, especially after that incident at Enies Lobby during his “re-education”. But that had been years ago now, and it was time for a new journey to begin. And so, inside one of the small gyms on the densely packed island River was hard at work getting rid of his nervous energy. A few days before he had been given his ship, his own ship. It was on the smaller side, but it was his first vessel in his own name, and that meant it was just right. Of course River had desires on a bigger ship, he was a Captain after all, but he still had to be assigned to a duty station so all things considered he knew he would be waiting a bit longer still.

All that aside, the officer was hard at work on the wooden floor doing pushups to keep himself amped up. Light from the bright day outside was flittering in through the windows, and the ever present sea air was touching his nose. One benefit of Marineford was its small size, it never lost any efficient being so compact. That meant that even here River wasn’t more than a few minutes away from the docks. This meant that he could sneak away from time to time and just relax, even if finding a quiet spot was tough on such a crowded rock. Much of River’s clothing was hanging from a peg near the door, leaving him looking almost like a new recruit. He didn’t mind much, it was nice to be left alone every once and awhile. Now River wasn’t a large Marine by any standard, only being about 6 feet tall and under 200 pounds he might have looked like a normal person. The tight white t shirt he had on was emblazoned with a seagull for effect, and his black boots and pants were pristine despite his glistening sweat. The green sash tide around his waist was a bit out of the ordinary for a Marine but suited him just fine. Finally his blue bandana from his years as a recruit was tied to his head, pushing his blonde hair back from his eyes.

With a start he jumped to his feet and let out a yawn, hopefully getting rid of his nerves. As he did so however a familiar voice came from behind him, that of his old friend Petty Officer Wilde. Well that wasn’t accurate anymore, as Wilde was now a Lieutenant of all things. He was definitely deserving though, and had worked just as hard as River had over the last year, three years in fact. From a new recruit who had learned under River at one of the Grand Line bases to a Marine officer in his own right. “The new recruits are here sir.”

“What have I told you about calling me sir?”

“Hard habit to break boss.” Wilde responded with a sigh.

Reaching for his clothes River began to dress. First his green dress shirt went on. It was customary that marine officers wore suits, and even though it was expected of him our hero just couldn’t do it. If nothing else he had to draw back to his mentor somehow. And so, River wore the shirt, powerful green as it was, but he wore it open and sleeves rolled up as if he had just gotten off work. On next went his old standard jacket, tight fitting as it was. It too was opened and unzipped. Off went his blue bandana, then tied back to his left bicep. Finally on went his coat, with the word “Justice” sewn onto the back. The thing was draped over his shoulders and the sleeves hung down low. Standing at the wall peg River just had one article of clothing left, his hat. Most would still wear their hats, the same ones given to them as brand new recruits, but River did it different. Ever since he could remember he wore that hat backwards, and today was no difference. Pushing his long hair back the Captain pulled his hat down, brim to the back and turned towards the door.

“Well let’s go have a look at them. Hopefully the crew doesn’t eat them alive.”

---

[Deleted]

[/i][/a], was doubled over with his forearms resting atop his thighs. His wrists were limp with his hands dropping lazily between his knees and his head was down as well so that his chin tucked against his collar. Even though his face was concealed by the bill of his standard issue Marines cap, the billowing trail of his cigarette was still visible as it snaked past his cranium.

The cigarette was perched precariously upon his bottom lip as the massive biker Marine dozed through the tail-end of the trip. Each breath that filled his lungs gently lifted his back and gave flight to the otherwise-inanimate seagull logo that stretched from shoulder blade to shoulder blade.

Here, in this place, he couldn't wear what he wanted, which meant no more leather jacket or knit cap for the time being. Instead, the leather was bundled away neatly with his few other material possessions and stacked somewhere in the cargo hold while his knit hat was tucked away in his back pocket. Now, his outfit looked the part of a Marine: aside from the white v-neck shirt with the Marine logo and white baseball cap with the black bill and blue lettering, Nicky also wore dark navy dress slacks and the royal blue kerchief that were standard for a Marine of his rank. The kerchief was worn like a bandanna, though; it was tied tight against the crown of his head with two "horns" at either corner of his head from where the excess cloth was tucked into the tied tails. The bandanna was worn beneath his hat and (technically) completed his mandatory appearance, even if it was an unorthodox approach.

While his clothes definitely looked the part, the man himself was a slightly different story. His oil-slicked hair was straight and tucked back behind his ears where it draped to his shoulders and he had a beard to match. Factoring in his "biker" style boots and his unusual leather belt (which he refused to replace with the dress belt) that housed his knuckledusters, as well as his grim expression and sullen posture, it was easy to mistake him as a prisoner on his way to an execution.

The truth of it wasn't all that far off; Most of his life had been spent across the aisle from the Marines and the World Government, and of that time, the most recent portion of it was spent with a palpable loathing for the aforementioned factions. Now, he was wearing their colors and being escorted to their headquarters to be educated on how to be a proper Marine.

After making an impulse decision to join the Marines Nick stuck it out and was shipped to a regional processing center in the South Blue. Before he could even get through processing he found himself in a bar fight with his fellow recruits and a few seasoned Marines. He may have won the brawl but he lost the war, so to speak.

As punishment for the embarrassing treatment he doled out to the Marines in their own home turf he was going to be stationed at "B-2", a decimated base where he was likely to spend his entire career rebuilding a frozen base he'd never get the chance to actually use. Then something changed. He didn't know if it was just how thorough of an ass-whooping he gave those Marines, or if it was his intoxicated and heartbroken rant about "true justice", but something someone heard changed his destination.

He didn't know who, or how, but Nicky made enough of an impression to get him sent to Marineford to be shown what "true justice" meant.

So it was; Nicky, while still at the Marine base, would not be sent to the port to ship to B-2, but rather a different port to ship to Marineford. He spent a couple days down at the Marine port preparing for the trip when he saw a unique coating being applied to the bottom of the ship that was to be used. Some inquiring revealed that the coating was a type of stone that had the same qualities of the sea itself, and as such, tricked the Sea Kings and allowed the Marines to pass through the Calm Belt (whatever that was) without hindrance. Additionally, it nullified the powers of a Devil Fruit, allowing the fruit user to be attacked like a normal person. Now, that sounded interesting...

Presently, Nick was still sitting alone in his room and staring down at the floor. With a click he unsheathed his knuckledusters and slipped them over his fingers before lifting his extremities into the air and eyeing the weapons once again. The pointed tips now possessed a seafoam green color and sheen. Apparently, for a Marine like himself, having the same sea stone coating applied to his weapons was not only possible, it was affordable, if, by "affordable", one understood that it would leave them with only a couple hundred Beri.

It didn't matter anymore, though. The same currency he'd once stolen, broken laws and fought for was now just an irrelevant aspect of the past. Marines were allotted pay every month for their contributions to society, and the base provided three hots and a cot, as they say. He had no one else to give the money to and no more hobbies to speak of. Oh well, at least saving wouldn't be hard. The only thing he'd ever need to purchase at all would be cigarettes, which reminded him that he still had a full pack.

Nicky retrieved a smoke and struck his lighter before taking a drag. The rocking had stopped and there was some hollering. Time to go.

Even with his hat down low above his brow the sun was still oppressively bright. The island itself, while better than any frozen prison he imagined B-2 to be, was not very impressive. It looked like a dozen different natural disasters had touched down over the last year and the people were still struggling to rebuild.

Snaking through scaffolding and well-lit corridors behind the other recruits and Marines, Nicky Knuckles worked his way towards processing.

"You must be something."

The Marine to his right spoke, but Nicky didn't answer. The guy was two-thirds his size and looked ten years older. "Not many Recruits here, I mean."

Taking note of their dialogue and running low on tolerance as they arrived at the processing station, one of the senior officers barked,"Quiet down. Captain's coming!"

Knuckles straightened his posture and set his jaw (almost in defiance) as he awaited the arrival of whoever was so damn important.[/ul]

[Weeks]

The trip from B-2 to Marineford had been long and aggravating. However, this had been mostly Pennellipi's doing, unintentionally of course. The ship, a new top of the line paddle-wheel ship, powered by four steam boilers had caught her attention immediately. Without the consent of the Captain or the Chief Engineer she had begun to modify one of the boilers. This had of course backfired as she had no experience with the system and caused it to over pressurize and explode. This of course had not gone over with the crew after she tried to explain herself. The Chief Engineer had banned her from entering the engine room and the Captain confined her to quarters for the remainder of the one month long voyage.

This had nearly driven her insane as she tried to keep her mind occupied by going over her own schematics and doing advanced math problems on the walls. Day after day she would continue her work on the Handyman, tweaking it to improve performance, go over new designs and schematics or simply solve complicated puzzles. She had nearly used the Handyman to break out of her own room before Marineford had finally been sighted in the distance.

The trip finally coming to a close prompted the Captain to rid himself of the saboteur. The short meeting between the two was a relief to Penny as he explained that she would be the first to leave the ship, and would never be permitted aboard again so long as he was in command. Penny had to hide her joy as she policed up her things, shoving her cloths, tools and books into her dufflebag as quickly as she could, and like bullet made for the deck.

As she took a deep breath of fresh air she looked on to Marineford with wide eyes. The base itself, though slightly torn up, was nothing like B-2. B-2 was a shattered mess in comparison with this marvel of engineering. The white walls and towering central structure was a shining beacon in the middle of the vast ocean, with what looked to be thousands of Marines occupying it. The shipyard itself was guarded by advanced battleships, steam powered scout craft, things that could keep Penny occupied for years to come if she were given the opportunity.

She looked over it all, her eyes darting back and forth behind her large circular glasses, taking it every ounce of data she possibly could. Her green eyes clashed with her black hair, two braids falling down behind her neck. Her clothing was mostly standard issue, with a long sleeved marine shirt and a white blue striped skirt. Her shoes were simple black leather, with high black socks that ran up to her knees. Her neckerchief however, had been replaced by a thin Marine blue ribbon, tied off under her collar much like one would tie their shoes. Her hat had been "misplaced" in a freak accident long ago, and any attempt to get her to wear another had proved impossible. Over this she wore a pure white lab coat, falling to her knees and open to wave in the brisk wind.

Her legs shook with excitement as the ship inched closer and closer to port. As she hoisted the Handyman onto her back she made sure for now to leave it off, the arms folded in and without the exhaust pumping out smoke, it looked like an odd backpack at this point. Securing the straps and preparing to disembark, she picked up her dufflebag and simply jumped ship just as the battleship passed by the docks.

As she hit the dock her knees buckled, prompting a less than graceful fall forward. Though certainly painful, Penny found herself to excited to care at this point. She picked herself up and made a break for it, the Marines around her looking on curiously. She certainly turned some heads as the base was dominated by mostly males, so gaining information as she made her way to the main building was all to easy.

---

As she raced down the halls, finding that her gear had become quite heavy, she finally spotted her crew, in formation seeming to wait for something.  Not needing to attract any undo attention to herself she slipped in as quietly as she could, finding herself standing next to what looked to be some sort of rouge.

"Quiet down. Captain's coming!"

She was just in time, but her head bobbed back and forth as she looked on, trying to get the first glimpse of her new commanding officer.  She looked ragged from her short run, her left sock now hanging around her ankle and her hair sticking up in the front unable to find a place to settle.

"Think the Captain fancies Theoretical Engineering?  I cannie wait to see what kinda ship we're on." she whispered, her legs and feet shifting constantly in anticipation.

OOC: This post was terrible, my first one got eaten when I tried to post it so I rushed this one.  Btw, good to see you again Rad. ;D

[Aubs]

The Captain stepped out onto the docks and began his way to the line of new recruits. Now he really didn’t have use for all of them, but as he was scheduled to be the next ship to leave the island he got the pick of the litter if you will. But as he rounded the corner River couldn’t help but notice the recruits standing in line before him. His eyes did not betray him, at least two specific recruits stood out, and not necessarily for good reasons either. Still a good ways off the new Captain spoke to his First Mate Lieutenant Wilde who was walking by his side.

“Wilde, why do I have a giant and a little girl standing in front of me?”

“There’s 10 other recruits here why those two?”

“What the fuck is that big fucker doing as a recruit? And why again do I have a little girl here?”

“River, she is an engineer?”

“And why the hell do we need an engineer?”

“Regulations. Besides she is supposed to be incredibly talented.”

“Then why is she HERE Wilde?”

“Apparently she is a bit of a nuisance.”

“Of course she is, why else would she be assigned to me?” Shaking his head slowly the veteran came right up to the line of recruits and stopped, anchoring himself a foot away or so from the big guy with a hard expression on his face. This was standard practice stuff really, making a first impression. For all of his talent River was not a big man, and looking up at the nearly 7 foot Knuckles might have seen funny to some, but if the big guy had any sense in him he would have known that he couldn’t beat River, even in a fist fight. The Captain smirked, still with his head bent up and looking at the chin of this large man. Then without further ado he took a step backwards and began to pace slowly in front of the recruits, his eyes passing over each of theirs. His voice was calm, but it carried over the quiet.

“My name is Captain Rutherford. You do not know me, and you have never heard of me. I don’t care. No one has heard of you either, but they will.” He stopped mid motion and let that sink in, then took another step, slowly this time. “I have two rules: first we will treat everyone with respect, whether they are Marine, Civilian or Pirate. Second, we will do the simple things very very well.” Stopping completely the Marine finished his orders, once again panning over the small crowd to hammer the point’s home. Lots of times it was not the long speech that was effective, but the one that the Soldiers could remember. “To your left you will Master Chief Petty Officer Ward, you will step to him and grab a sword. That is all.”

“You heard him Recruits, move move MOVE!” came the booming voice of Chief Petty Officer Barto from behind them. As the young ones ran to grab their swords the Lieutenant stepped forward and continued the instructions. His blue hair made him stand out, and his pristine Justice Cloak helped the cause. If you looked at him, which he wasn’t sure any of the recruits would, you would see his trusty saber, his hand resting softly on its pommel.

“It is the Captains policy that every Marine on this crew will be proficient in the sword before they are allowed another weapon. You will compete until you can defeat three opponents in combat at the same time. You will begin when you are ready.” Now Wilde was the real swordsmen on the crew, he had kept the thing long after his requirement was met, so it made sense that he would conducting this training. River was truly able to defeat three of his crew by himself, but he would not be showing those skills until later today, after the others were tired and more ready to learn. It had worked for the former recruits that now led his training, Ward Barto and Wilde. The whole thing brought a smile to his face as he sat down on a dockside crate and began to watch.

Now hidden among them were three of his other crew members, all Petty Officers dressed down as recruits. They would push the training, making those of skill stand out as they fought stronger competition. River was making the bet that there would be someone here, there was always one or two willing to go the extra mile to prove that they wanted it. He was no famous commander, but he was perhaps the first that some of these new marines had seen, and perhaps that would encourage them.

This is where they would fight out who was worth keeping around.

---

[Deleted]

[/i][/font] He thought.[/ul]

[Weeks]

As Penny continued to catch her breath, she was elated to find that she had arrived without a moment to lose. Waiting always got the better of her, and there was no better time to show up exactly when things started to happen. Her deep breathing and sweaty appearance may have looked out of place, but she look on with curiosity in her eyes, a look that would not last.

As Captain Rutherford went into his introduction, Penny could only assume from this gathering that the recruits were being sized up. Of course, it would only take the staff a moment to look on at her in awe and wonder how a girl of her size could have possibly made it into the Marines. She had tried her hardest to make out the conversation that the Captain and apparent First Mate had been engaged in, but to no avail. On the other hand, maybe she hadn't wanted to hear what they had said, perhaps it was better to be left in the dark sometimes.

As he continued however, Penny’s enthusiastic smile had turned sour almost instantly. As an Engineer, she had been assured that her duties would be to act more as a consultant and full time mechanic. In fact, per regulations, her duties aboard any vessel were to act more as an adviser to the Staff and to give instructions on construction and possible scenarios involving anything in her specialty. Apparently she had been lied to, and as tried to wrap her head around the idea of training with a sword, she was almost insulted.

“Excuse me, but I-“ she began, only to be cut off mid-sentence.

“You heard him Recruits, move, move!”

“Aye Chief but-“

“MOVE!”

Unable to get a word in edgewise she begrudgingly fell out of formation, following at the rear with the other recruits as they dashed to wherever the hell it was they were going. It wasn’t so much the Idea of combat training, but swords were so…ancient. They completely collided with her idea about the modern world, and for that matter, a modern military force to be reckoned with. She rolled her eyes as she thought about the notion of a line of rifles firing into the formation of sword wielding recruits. The odds of survival in a situation like that were 683 to 1…exactly.

Still, her first impression might be very relevant in this situation. She had been promised by the commander of B-2 that she would never be permitted inside of the base again for her accidental detonation of the ammo cache. This of course had been another misunderstanding, as she had been testing a new sealant witch just so happened to be highly flammable. Not only that, but Penny had no connections in the Navy, this may very well be the last place they would send her before simply kicking her back home, or worse, into prison.

After a little bit of waiting, to witch Penny began to tap her feet restlessly, she was finally handed a sword, just before it was snatched back from her hands.

“Damnit man! I didn’t even do anything yet!” she barked back, her frustration already showing.

“WATCH YOUR TONE RECRUIT!” was the reply she received, only to find that her faced looked like that of a confused and frustrated puppy, cute, cuddly and slightly agitated.

“That sword was too big for you. Here, use this training sword for children.”

“Ack!” she responded, finding that the sword she was now carrying looked to be at least 20 years old, the blade dull and the hilt slightly bent. It was by all means shorter, and lighter, but it looked like a sword a 15 year old would practice with.

“Bloody hell Chief I’m 18!” she growled back, the Chief somewhat in disbelief.

“Statistically speaking, all of you are freakishly outside the norms of human height! I’m a wee bit taller than the normal women of my age I’ll have you know!”

“GET IN THE RING RECRUIT!”

The Chief’s face had turned slightly redder as he nearly screamed the order to her, and simply knowing that no amount of logic would convince him otherwise, Penny stomped off near the other recruits, tossing her duffle bag a few feet away along with the Handyman.

“Let’s just get this bloody well over with.” She grunted, a dark ring forming under her eyes as she wondered what kind of idiotic crew she had been transferred to.

[Aubs]

LT Wilde continued to instruct the recruits in the art of the sword as River sat happily on his crate. They really didn’t need all these recruits, but it wouldn’t be the winners and losers that decided who would join the fledging Marine crew. Captain Rutherford was using the most timeless of methods to decide who was worth keeping, potential. Of the seven remaining members of his White Hunters squad all were present, down to the last Petty Officer. But because Marineford wasn’t issuing him his ship here he would only be able to take a handful to his next duty station, where they would be issued a ship and the remainder of their crew. That meant that the crew was tight up for spots, and these new additions would have to cut the mustard.

Even as Wilde lectured and his three top dogs were moving through the small pockets of newbies River let his eyes wander over to the ones he had already picked out. That big guy was about to match up with Petty Officer Hubbard, even if he didn’t know it. Hubbard was an interesting character, a former pick pocket from Dauntaun. This made the little match up an interesting one to watch, history unknown to either party. And as the new guy was commanding so much attention, CPO Barto was standing near them, though he wasn’t nearly as tall as the recruit he was the biggest they had. Without much warning the blonde pickpocket slashed forward, holding his sword reverse handed so he led guard first. The slash was waist level, and meant to bridge the gap between the two mismatched fighters and bring Hubbard inside Knuckles guard.

Drifting off to his right River saw the other recruit he had mentioned to Wilde. The little girl of course. While the captain wasn’t necessarily saying that these two were the special ones he did want to see why they didn’t fit the usual mold of new recruits. Having a small child with an attitude, he had gathered as much from Barto’s yelling, made her a fun thing to watch. She would either impress, or be seriously hurt. Not that he was condoning anything like that.

Eyes closing the new officer leaned his head back and took a long sigh. The day would proceed like this, he was sure. Perhaps he could get more involved as well, that would at least brighten up his afternoon. He still had too much nervous energy. Suddenly a voice came out from around him, causing River to open his eyes and see Petty Officer Takadaha, who was supposed to be training and pretending to be a new guy. But when he spoke he was doing anything such. “Come on boss, I know you want to join in?”

Setting his jaw River looked back up at the standing Marine and gave him his two cents. “I told you to go train the recruits, not take of me, questions?”

“No sir.” And the young man turned away, walking to the closest Recruit and not waiting to start. The poor kid came swinging, so all in one motion the Petty Officer ducked below the first strike, stood for the next; blocking it hap hazardously with a flick of his wrist and a meeting of steel, and then finishing the move with a pounding kick to the rookies chest, making him fly backwards. River could only watch and sigh knowing once again how unfortunate it was that Taka was who he was. He had the potential to be a secret weapon, strong as an ox and fast as a cat but his aloofness kept him back without fail. Not to say that Taka was simple-minded no, he was just uncaring about most things. Being the crews impromptu musician didn’t help either, making him spend more time playing and less training.

With one last glance the captain was back to this little girl, who was finally going to match up with Petty Officer Barnes and a few other unknowns who must have wanted the easy win (Rutherford made a mental note to subtract from their scores because of it). Barnes was another lazy one, most likely the smartest one on the crew he had the distinction of being a bookworm and desired much more to read than to lead. He also preferred his flintlock to a sword, but he too was held to the crew standard. MCPO Ward was standing by them, no weapon in hand. Colton Ward had given up the pretense of being a swordsmen years ago, but his unique set of skills were far more valuable to Rutherford than another blade. Minutes and minutes passed as our hero simply watch, and slowly but surely the cream started to rise.

“Alright.”

His hat came off first, then his coat fell on top of it. All in one motion the captain rose to his feet and dropped his unnecessary clothing. Zipping up his coat Rutherford stepped forward and held up his hand, to which someone obliged him quickly. A simple saber with no guard, he didn’t need one anymore after all. His green dress shirt was still king of pocking out from under his old recruit jacket, but hopefully the others would recognize him more for his skill than his dress. Walking forward the Captain moved until he was in the middle of the little ring and then stopped, waiting for the first to try their hand, assuming they could get a pass from his instructors.

---

[Deleted]

[/b][/font]
[/i]
Nick blasted his right hand into the face of one of the recruits who kept challenging him with his sword. Whoever this guy was, he was obviously more experienced with a blade than Nicky was and was trying to take advantage of that with quick swipes and neat slashes aimed for his wrists and arms. It was everything the big guy could do to keep himself whole and with each deliberate and, in Nicky's opinion, cowardly attempt to harm him the biker grew even angrier, so naturally it needed dealt with by his fist...

His rival fell onto his back and remained there in a daze as his baseball cap fluttered to the ground behind him. With that Nick took a breath and turned to make sure no one was stabbing him in the back.

No one was, but there was someone sizing him up. The guy was blond - a pretty-boy, even, if not for those scars on his face - and wearing a standard marine uniform. The glint in his eye and the swagger with which he carried himself suggested to Nick that he was one of the more dangerous types around. The guy wasn't saying anything, only looking at him knowingly. It was a look Nick had seen many times before. This guy thought he was bad-enough.

The biker-turned-marine's eyes drifted to the right. A larger Marine (or less-small, as most men were compared to Nick) than the blond was hovering nearby. Unlike the other recruits who moved to and fro in the ebb of the battle, these two seemed rather stationary. They'd deal with anyone who approached them, but rather than roving in search of another opportunity to prove themselves they moved with more purpose.

Now, Nicky wasn't very smart and he couldn't charm a drowning man to take a life jacket, but he did notice things, so as he squared-up the blond he decided that this guy, whoever he was, specifically targeted Nicky. Not that it made much difference now.

The biker raised his right hand and waved the blond on as his left arm kept the cutlass relaxed alongside his thigh. He was a southpaw, after all.

This was it: that moment of silence when the buzzing rises in your ears and your body vibrates. On a level that only animals in the wild kingdom can appreciate the body understands when it's truly entering fight-or-flight mode rather than just performing an action like punching or blocking. This wasn't just going to be an exchange of attacks but rather a fight for his very health, and nothing excited him more.

Neither said anything as the blond took the initiative with a hooking right-handed slash. The blond used his weapon the way Nicky preferred his: knuckles first with the blade trailing. Nicky, being no more practiced in one method or the other had decided to hold his blade the same way, as it was something like using his knuckledusters.

The behemoth opened his chest and raised his hilt to collide with that of Hubbard's to effectively stop the strike in its tracks. The motion of torquing his hips to the left to make the block wasn't wasted on defense, though. His right hand was tight and close to the body as it pistoned a hook towards Hubbard's left cheek. The blow was enforced by the opening of his hips and the raising of his shoulder and was meant to nullify the distance the blond had just closed with his initial attack by sending him reeling.

Nick looked away towards another recruit before double-taking. The blond he'd hit wasn't down and he wasn't out. Rather, he was wiping his face like that punch of his was commonplace!

Nicky raised one eyebrow before swaying backwards to (barely) dodge Hubbard's next attack, which swiped past his face. Before he could recover, though, he was cut across the right arm by another recruit capitalizing on the moment! Knuckles stumbled before reeling and catching himself staring at Hubbard and the recruit who'd cut him. Unlike Hubbard the recruit had a wild look of fear and desperation painted across his features.

With a flick of his wrist Nick adjusted his grip on his sword and waited. Hubbard simply stood there with his arms crossed as if he had all day. The arm stung, but he could deal with it. He'd have to if he wanted to win. And that's what this was about: winning.

There was the metallic tchng of metal dancing against metal as Nicky's rival pressed with flicking slashes. The barbarian of a marine parried as well as he could before shunting hard and knocking the marine's sword high into the air. His right shin lifted and introduced itself to the marine's jewels as payback for the cheapshot earlier.

Picking up his now-discarded cutlass, Nicky raised his eyebrows to an amused-looking Hubbard.[/ul]

[Aubs]

At first the Marine James Hubbard did move. His sickening confidence probably made his much larger and stronger opponent very angry. It was actually a specialty of Hubbard’s, making people angry. At first he had enjoyed the vicious blows of this recruit, but now things were getting more serious. The more people were knocked out of this little skirmish the fewer chances they would have to see just what each fighter was capable of. Getting creamed too quickly didn’t let the crew get an assessment, it just let them know you couldn’t sword fight. This in mind the former thief decided it was time to get busy testing for real.

Without warning Hubbard flashed forward, like he was moving on borrowed time. Whatever he had been saving was something special. Mid-step the man dropped and planted both hands on the ground, one of which was encumbered with the sword and therefore not as effective as the other. Springing up Hubbard twisted until he was upside and backwards of how he had started, and slashed with the motion right at Nicky’s head. It was some kind of spinning back handspring slash, and even though it was flashy and exciting it was not a sure hit. The moment his feet touched the ground again, after the impact of swords and everything, the Petty Officer dropped down once again and moved his leg across the ground in a sweeping motion, hoping to take out the enemies legs. Following through on the assault Hubbard continued to turn and let another sword blow swing high at Knuckles’ towering head; like a deadly top on tilt.

Could the new guy keep up?

---

Now River was no expert in the sword, he never claimed to be. But like any teacher he had taught a philosophy, not a sword. There were a million ways to fight with a sword, hell you could use the thing as a bat and it might work. But instead of worrying about the art form that was the blade, River had taught his Marines that the sword and its combat was an extension of yourself. Some didn’t want to get too close, and so their blows were glancing and their footwork pristine. While others wanted to tire out the enemy, so they fought conservatively by nature. And so, one had to only learn to swing a sword and to defend a blade, everything past that was only the body and minds interpretation of which combat was best. That explained why no one on the crew really fought the same way with the sword, that wasn’t the point. Everyone had their own strengths and weaknesses, they just needed a medium in which to learn them. For instance, Wilde had been a natural with the blade, and so it had made sense that he would let the blade be like an appendage, but it was his natural speed and precision that made his style his own. By comparison, Ward had never liked the blade, and yet he had been able to succeed by using his brain to out think the enemy and lull them into weak points and over-attacks. The goal here was not to become a swordsmen, it was to become oneself.

So as the first lucky man came to strike at the Captain his response was one that only River could do. Shifting his feet and blocking the attack, the new captain shifted his body weight enough that he was off center of the enemy, and then let his guard drop. The release of pressure sent the new guy falling forward, and with only the slightest of efforts the Captain brought his dulled blade close to the loser’s neck, and called it a safety kill. It wasn’t always the stronger of the two that one, and it wasn’t always the smarter, it was however the one who reacted at the right moment. You could not react wrong and win, it wasn’t possible when one blow could kill. That is what River was known for, his balance; for sometimes he was angry and sometimes he was arrogant. Other times he was self-conscious or aloof, but he was always what he needed to be when the moment came. If your enemy thought you would only swing wildly then you just had to wait for the haymaker that was sure to come in response. But enough inflection and back to business.

Unable to find the little girl right away Rutherford turned instead to the match between the large recruit and Hubbard, his reformed thief. Sword tip pointed at the earth, almost without a care in the world he began to walk towards the struggle. Many were falling to the instructors, but this man pressed on, and River wanted to know how and why. But before he ever reached his target another man’s blade collided with his right arm, only to slide through it gentle, leaving a trail not of blood but of sticky green liquid that smoldered like dry ice. Even as the infected blade began to dissolve under the power of the unknown acid, its wielder smirked and held firm.

“Petty Officer Takahada. Is now really the time?”

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SPOILER: Click to show

[Deleted]

Nicky made fighting something more than a verb, or an activity, or an end to the means. He made it a part of who he was. His entire life had been defined, not by the adversity or the struggles (of which there were plenty) but literally by the combat: who he fought, how he fought, and why he fought. Sometimes, it was important to adhere to a samurai-like code of honor while others it was a down-and-out brawl where anything went, but that's the thing; there's a connection between two men fighting. It becomes a living thing where understanding amongst them comes easier. The intensity and emotion is palpable and a form of communication even when they may say nothing at all.

Standing there with his powerful, broad shoulders hunched and his hands at rib-height holding the dual cutlasses like massive knuckledusters (blades "down"), Nicky said nothing but only observed as the blonde Hubbard sprang forward, though the giant did step backwards with his right foot to brace himself and anchor his weight.

Tracking the sword as it went down, planted, spun, and rose was more important than observing Hubbard's acrobatics, which ultimately were arbitrary beyond serving as a way to conceal the weapon. Like tracking a switchblade in a bar fight, Nick's keen and focused mind honed-in on the swirling cutlass. All that he needed now was to be able to make a move against it, which was an entirely separate matter from simply eyeing the weapon...

Left arm raising off kilter, the trailing blade behind his grip caught the swipe of Hubbard's attack and diverted it upwards past the ducking Nicky's head, though his baseball cap was caught at the bill tugged from his head. It would have been cleaved in two had Hubbard been using a higher-quality weapon than these low-class training swords.

With his long hair lashing about like a lion's mane Nick followed suit to Hubbard's aggressive attack. Recognizing that he was in the air, Nick lifted his lead leg and thrust forward to kick him back. However, Hubbard, being faster of the two, had not jumped so high as to be caught airborne, only enough to reach Nick's head. He was able to recover quickly enough that he dropped right down into a sweeping kick.

Few things compare to the speed of thought, particularly the speed at which one reacts. To the fighters, planning is a series of reactions and thoughts all playing out quickly, with one's actions happening more out of opportunity than pre-meditation. So, even as Nick was realizing Hubbard had more skill than the average Marine recruit just from the elegant way he'd hopped without leaving himself vulnerable, the biker-turned-Marine was already stepping forward with his kick. His realization would have to be acknowledged consciously later.

Left foot snapping forward to bring a heavy boot towards Hubbard's chest, changing directory ever-so-slightly to track the dropping Marine officer, avoiding the sweep thanks to being lifted in the kick, and finally completing its motion aimed towards Hubbard's face thanks to his lowered posture, Nick acted not with the tactile mind of a genius whose thought-process and reaction was such that it could counter every move, but rather a brute whose raw skill and experience happened to put him in a fortuitous position where luck fell a bit more on his side than naught.

His tree-trunk legs flexed as he used the strength of both his anchored, right leg, as well as the snapping power of his left leg to thrust that kick, though it was not a knockout kick thanks to being just leg-strength... If it did connect, though, it'd create a bit more space between the two.

[Aubs]

It was a bit unexpected to say the least. Hubbard had never really believed that an untrained ruffian could deliver such a strong kick. However, it was beginning to look like this Nicky had more than just street smarts, he was strong, and Hubbard would have to admit that. Before he could ever make his next move, the thundering kick struck him hard in the chest, making his body collapse in on itself and shoot backwards like a rocket. The small man was flung a good twenty feet away and slide gruesomely into an oversized crate. You could hear a small grunt coming from the wreckage as Hubbard tried to rise to his feet. The two men who had been standing nearby stopped what they were doing and looked instead at this strange turn of events. Honestly no one had expected the hidden crew members to be beaten, and even if Hubbard could still fight he had lost his chance now. Blood was in the water.

Petty Officer Takahada and Captain Rutherford had been exchange pleasantries, if you will, when the young Petty Officer Hubbard came sailing by them. Without another word the lesser of the two men turned on his heel and began walking towards Knuckles, even as the tip of his sword dissolve into nothing, leaving him without a tip but a smoking sword instead. Silently standing between the injured Hubbard and this Nicky the poorly disguised Petty Officer only waited, knowing that eventually this hot head fighter would strike. It was his technique really, Mr. Takahada. He waited, and then at the last possible second he defeated the enemy, one blow, no questions asked. If this recruit had been counting then he knew that two were down, only one more was needed to complete his first task. Perhaps the crew should have been more concerned with the recruits. One of them was strong, of that there was no question anymore. Taka had a smirk on his face, the one he usually wore. If someone had been commenting on River’s crew they might have thought by looking at the two last opponents of Mr. Knuckles that the lot of them were too smug for their own good. At least in the cases of these two young Marines the watches would be correct.

River was now fixated on what was about to happen. He had given up on finding that little girl who was supposed to be an engineer. She did not seem to care enough to fight the others, and so he would worry about those that did. Whether he liked it or not he was going to have to take on new Marines today, at least he was sure now that one of them was worth training. Secretly though it made him mad that the girl was hiding somewhere, she must not have had the intestinal fortitude to fight others, which was a dark mark against her already.

Just as the Captain was watching the battle that was seconds away from kicking off, a sword came flying at him from the side. His response was violent and angry. Feet shifted as the veteran displaced the weight and momentum of the weak charge, letting his sword take the brunt of the force. Sparks flew as the two weapons clashed against one another. Rutherford’s blade didn’t have a guard per say, which meant that he would be cut by the attack, but just as that blood was to be drawn things went awry for the opportunistic attacker. The pressure was gone, the blade simply released from River’s hands, allowing him to slip just outside of the attack. Before he could turn around, the recruit was punched squarely in the back of the head and fell to the stone at River’s feet.

The Captain knelt to retrieve his blade, noticing as he did that very few men were left fighting. His crew was already watching instead the real fighters that were left. Worst of all, they looked like they were enjoying themselves, some actually sitting down instead of instructing. Rising to his feet River let everything else fade away from his mind. He was supposed to be training not critiquing his soldiers.

He hoped he hadn’t missed the deciding fight…

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SPOILER: Click to show

[Deleted]

[/font]

Now, Knuckles had seen the whole stand-there-casually-to-taunt you schtick when Hubbard introduced himself, but that didn't mean it was any less effective when Takahada put it to use.

Nick spit his discarded fingernail biting and furrowed his brow as his damaged hat was picked up by a smooth breeze passing over the training area. The hat was carried aloft between the two combatants, which Nick took as a signal to begin. When the hat passed between the two and concealed Takahada from Nick's vantage point the biker dashed forward. By the time the hat had moved the few inches necessary to once again reveal the Petty Officer the larger of the two men was already in full sprint!

The hat tumbled as the wind carrying it was broken by the beast in the Marine uniform who dashed madly towards the officer. Nick's elbows were pulled back and bent in such a way that his fists were just before his chest, akin to a bodybuilder doing a wide-gripped bench press. He was slightly hunched and had his head lifted to keep a clear view on Takahada.

Between his hair, his beard, his stature and posture, and the way he carried two swords behind him, he must have looked like a beast to the other, lesser recruits, as some of the surviving fighters had stopped to watch the developing scene. Some of them even shared concerned glances with each other. Most were still fighting, and while some were watching, an even-smaller portion were actually discarding their cutlasses. Apparently, they'd seen enough. Less for Nick to deal with, anyway...

Having closed the distance between himself and Takahada, Nick anchored his weight through the balls of his biker-boot-clad feet, adapted his southpaw posture, torqued his lumbar to the right and crossed his right hand in a straight punch towards Takahada's face. Of course, around his fist was the guard of the cutlass, and trailing behind his hand was the downward blade of his sword - not that he was attempting to slash him.

Left hand still in a guard position near his face, Nick's move was made. Sure, he knew he was stepping in to Takahada's strategy, but, being a bigger (slower) guy, counter punching and brutalizing was his style just as much as it was Takahada's. At some point someone would have to make the first move, anyway, so was it really Nick playing into Takahada's counter style, or vice versa!?![/ul]

[Aubs]

If you had asked the small audience watching the training that afternoon that might have told you what they expected to see when the large Nicky Knuckles swung his paw at the discussed Petty Officer. Now, in the world of the Marines a Petty Officer was nothing really, he was nameless fodder that pirates would mop up without question. However, River had spent the last few years making sure that those men were not fodder. No he wanted men that were worth their weight in sweat in strength of brow. All they had to do know was prove it against real pirates. But before that could happen they needed to fight against this surprisingly strong fresh recruit he towered over most of them.

But then again the Petty Officer called Taka was an interesting case. He should not have been a lowly Marine, but his work ethic left much to be desired. He was aloof on his best days and gone on his worst. A musician by trade he really only wanted to enjoy his life at his own pace, and yet here he was. Why, no one knew. Despite all of that when he got going Takahada was one of the strongest members of the crew, able to dispatch a slew of pirates without so much as a thought. To that the crew had taken to calling him absentminded, which he took to heart. So, by most perceptions this was supposed to be a massacre. Taka only needed one punch usually to knock someone out. Perhaps this one would be a bit different.

So the attack came, and as one would expect the Petty Officer ducked low, his grip tightening on the handle of his sword. Would he slash through the larger man with ease, or would he decided instead to play with this boy a bit. Either way one thing was clear, Nicky was out of his league. Then all at once the sword clattered to the ground at his feet. Gently Hiro placed his hand on the outside of the recruit’s leg and gently pushed himself up and away, as if he needed help rising back to his full stature. Without turning around the strange man walked away.

“I yield.”

Had River been facing the other side of the fight he would have seen the big smile on his soldiers face as he walked away. To the fortune of all involved he did not. But instead the attention went right towards the Captain, who was standing near the now opponent-less Nicky. The two men were very different in size and shape come to think of it. River was about normal height, with a good amount of muscle, but he was not a behemoth like this recruit. Had you only seen the two men in street clothes you would think instead that Knuckles was the boss around here. Whimsical thoughts finally at an end the young Captain decided it was time to get to work. His face was set into its usual stony look, where he was thinking more than he usually did. A light breeze wafted between the two, only making the battle seem bigger and grander than a training fight. No one was sure what the large man was capable of. But then again, he had probably never fought a man like River Rutherford either.

He tossed his sword to the ground lifted his left hand up towards the large man, waving him to come at him, weapon or otherwise. It was so like Rutherford, go ahead and fist fight a man twice your size, just because you thought it would be a better fight. He didn’t know if Nicky would take the bait, but he had a hunch. He looked like a brawler, he didn’t want to use a sword, he wanted to swing. River wanted to know what his men could do, not make them do what he wanted them to do. Now the Captain might be in some trouble had he known just what weapon Nicky was going to use, but perhaps it was better to get it all out of the way now. Nicky had passed the test, by rights of the crew he could now use whatever weapon he liked to fight his battles.

This was going to be fun.

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SPOILER: Click to show