Hush, Little Baby, Don't You Cry ~ Act I

[Kurosaki]

White flip-flops made repetitive smacking noises as their owner walked down the paved street briskly, observing their surroundings with a pair of inquisitive brown eyes. Other eyes were pulled toward her in the crowd, however, that went unnoticed by the woman as she moved. They were perhaps a little skeevy in origin too since her outfit was much more revealing than was what was typical of this fair city which was unbeknownst to the cheerful lady. In fact, typically just a light green tank-top with a pair of short-shorts was not all that provocative even if they did reveal her long, thin legs.

What her information gathering had done for her, however, was make her aware of just where she was on the Cuidadela Queendom (that's name was a mouthful).

"This place is rumored to just be filled with would-be pirates and a lot of them still come back here too for supplies because they consider it more of a safe harbor. Well, too bad I'll have to burst their little bubble there," she mused to herself, a thin finger tapping her pink lips as she bent forward and observed a window of a shop that was filled with all sorts of unique wares. To conceal her own weapons, she was carrying a tote bag but the strap was digging really hard into her shoulder so that backpack in the window was tempting... But it was red. That color definitely didn't match the theme she had going!

Debating whether or not to go inside to see if they had other colors, she reasoned that she could save a few bucks and dismissed the idea, turning on her heel despite the difficulty that was to pull off with flip-flops, and continued on her way. She got a ways before she spotted a bench and sat down to crowd watch.

This was honestly the perfect way to go about her job. Just observing the people was enough to lead her straight to a lot of her marks that she had gotten in the past. Though her career was mostly just keeping at a consistent pace, her tried and true methods were ones that she could not dismiss. One day, if she decided to go after the bigger sharks maybe she would try something different.

For now, she took out a thin notebook that she had in her carry bag and flipped through its pages casually while still looking up often enough to get good glances at the faces of those that passed. It was early morning so a lot of people were just now getting to work and moving around so it was the perfect time of the day for this. On her lap was the notebook that she prized so heavily. She flipped a page, checking it against someone who passed with a critical eye at first but noted that the nose shape was completely wrong to be the person in the wanted poster. Not to mention, the would-be pirate was yanking around a bratty looking five year-old girl in pigtails that was fussing about... Something?

"Definitely not pirate material," she noted to herself before leaning back further on her seat and allowing herself to feel relaxed for a moment. Besides her weapons in her bag, she had a hefty sum of beri from the last pirate she had turned in. He had been a real scumbag too. Wanted for murdering a few of his crew mates in particular since they were, by his own words, "worse than a sloth" at scrubbing the deck like was in their job description, the forty-year old balding pirate hadn't gone down without a massive fight at the end. If she pulled up her tank-top, the evidence of that would be easy to see in the form of a giant bruise on her abdomen.

Even now it still smarted if she moved wrong despite having been struck there almost a week prior. That taught her to lower her guard for even one second though. Then again, she would have normally been able to dodge such a punch but her hands had been pinned back by one of the pirate's lackeys. Because the underling was not a wanted pirate at the time, she had actually let him flee once the tables had turned, but only after she had shot him in the leg with her gun just to make sure that he didn't forget about her. After that, she had found that she considered them both even.

Opening her mouth and raising a hand to stifle a yawn, Lexi Hartings realized as she broke out of her memories that she had not gotten much rest the night before. The little inn there in Atzintli was nice and all but the bed were almost the equivalent of sleeping on a rock with another smaller rock sticking into your back. At least, she was sure that what had been embedding its way into her back the night prior had been a spring. If it did it again though she was going to rip her way into the mattress and yank the stupid thing out.

Even as she pinched herself to keep up her alertness and sat straighter on the white bench, the bounty hunter's eyelids had become heavier and heavier still almost as though increasingly heavy weights were being tied to them. Finally her eyelids slammed shut and her head lulled backwards.

[Vio]

SPOILER: Click to show

Guess who was asked to join in on the party? Also, have some music to listen to while you read: appropriate music linked here!

Wait for it... At the docks on an island unknown, a medium-sized vessel had parked itself neatly in amongst two much larger ships of the merchant variety. Trade ships very nearly as large as galleons towered above the vessel, making it seem a lot smaller in comparison. But no, this ship was one that carried a crew of around eighty, a large number of men who had set sail from the South Blue countless months ago in search of something spectacular. Amazon Lily. Of course, knowledge of that island's existence was rather scarce, mainly because the World Government kept it that way for a political relationship. As the sailors went about their business of unloading what remained of their supplies from the vessel, what they failed to notice was that they were being watched by a pair of tigerish hazel eyes.

"Oi. You two! Stop loafin' around and get yer arses in gear." Shouted a burly gentleman towards his co-workers, making his hectic schedule clear to them by using words they would understand. The two sailors scrambled into action, nearly tripping in the process and provoking a slight, stifled giggle from somewhere nearby. Dainty hands held a small mouth shut, silencing the noise.

"Huh? D'ya hear that?" Said the one, a tall and lankier man in a dirty grey vest and baggy green shorts that exposed his rather hairy legs. He seemed to look around, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he questioned his comrade, a slightly shorter fellow with a dark beard and blue-and-white-banded tee shirt with beige three-quarter lengths.

"Huh? Hear what?" The two stood in silence for a moment, listening out for whatever sound they had just heard. Unfortunately for them, their boss was still looking, and an even louder yell got them running again as they balanced a large crate between them and proceeded to disembark from the port side's gangplank. As advanced a vessel as it was, powered by massive paddle-wheels on its flanks, it was still your average wooden ship and even had sails to use when cruising in safer waters. That said, it was a little weathered from the tropical storms it had faced at sea, not to mention a supposed near run-in with a Sea King. Nothing serious, according to what the crew had rambled on about to themselves, unaware that a pair of tiny ears had been listening in on them every once in a while.

Wait for iiiiit... Aaaaand... Now! Bolting from her hiding place in among the remaining crates, the petite form of what appeared at first to be a feline made a mad four-legged dash for the starboard side. Undetected by the eyes of the crew, many of whom were either within the ship's undercarriage or milling about on the docks, the little figure made it to her destination and leaped from the deck. Always prepared, it was a small rowboat that captured the brunt of the form's force as it landed within. This was no cat, however, but a young girl no more than eleven years of age. Standing a hundred and thirty centimetres tall and weighing in at a little under fifty pounds, this pre-adolescent angel went by the name of Shakarri Montbretia. She wore rather simply garb; a somewhat dirty white summer dress and brown shorts with a pair of moccasins on her little feet. Not the most typical of clothing, but what would one expect from a girl who came from Amazon Lily? What the crew of the vessel known as the 'Midnight Lotus' had not realised was that their return trip from an empty island in the middle of the Calm Belt had harboured an extra body. That said, Monty was the one who suffered more because of this than anyone else. While the men were left with a sense of disappointment because they had failed to locate the legendary Island of Women, the young huntress had been taken far from her homeland and deposited on an island so very unfamiliar. It was frightening at first, but the climate was not too dissimilar to what she was used to. Tropical. Warm and humid, just as she liked it. Or, more precisely, just as she was used to. Climbing out of the small boat, she eased herself along in a crouching position, laying as low as possible to avoid being spotted. There were people everywhere, it seemed, and it made her a little nervous at first.

"I guess I just... Walk?" Looking upon this brand new world with inquisitive eyes, the dark-skinned doll raised herself into a more comfortable upright position, demonstrating her full height. Which was really not that impressive, but she was only a child. Uncertain of where to go and feeling the pangs of homesickness in her heart and stomach, Miss Shakarri hesitated for moment before a reassuring coolness brushed her shoulder. Spotting the source of the smooth texture from the corner of her eye, the aspiring Kuja warrior smiled as a slender pink tongue flickered in the fragrant air, catching the flavours of the environment itself and slurping them up. A serpent was partially emerged from her backpack, a snake with vivid green scales marked with criss-crossing stripes of minty blue.

"Heehee. Hello, Mambo!" Raising a little paw and gently brushing the light yellow belly of her scaly partner with her knuckles, her greeting was returned soon after as the blue-eyed beast tickled her own chin with his tongue. An almost inseparable duo, Mambo had become friends with Monty during one of her little 'excursions' into the wilds of her home. Strangely enough, the two had taken a liking to one another, though perhaps that was because the people of Amazon Lily effectively worshiped the creatures? Maybe the feeling was mutual? Who knows? Regardless of the possibilities, it was an absolute fact that these two beings were a strong pair who looked out for each other, and that was not about to change. Gently pushing down on the head of the snake, Montbretia gave a simple signal and the sleepy serpent yawned before slithering back into the confines of his 'nest'. Her confidence renewed a little now that she knew her closest friend was by her side for this adventure, the curly-haired flower ventured along the docks and headed into the modern jungle that was known by the locals as Atzintli. She was not entirely certain of what to expect, for this was a foreign land inhabited not just by women, but also by men. Man, a creature whose body could stretch like rubber and could eat for an eternity. Well, that is what she had been told, at least. It was hard to believe any different when that was all anybody ever seemed to tell you.

I... Have no idea where I'm going... I kinda just wanna go home... The world seeming to grow larger around her as she took tentative steps into an unexplored wilderness, Monty's hazel hues darted back and forth as she tried to locate something she could use as a landmark. Something that stood out above all things and was clearly visible to her no matter where she went. Unfortunately, she was having no such luck in finding anything of the sort...

[Jade]

The day was hot, bright, and miserable - not even the previous night's storm seemed to do anything to bring the temperature down. In fact, it seemed as if the sun had decided that that raging storm and cool water pouring from the sky had been nothing but a challenge, and then had cranked the heat up to a setting that the vulgar shipwright would have loudly and emphatically referred to as "the devil's balls", if anyone had been around to care about what she was saying.

Kelsi's hair, usually styled up, was flat today, hastily pushed back from her face; her goggles still lay on top, acting as a headband to prevent her unruly hair from breaking free of its designated place. Her usual sleeveless jacket (was it even a jacket at that point? she liked to think that the answer was a resounding 'yes') had been buried in her purple backpack, and the rest of her usual attire had been ditched in favor of clothing a little more revealing than she would have liked: a purple sports bra, a pair of jeans riddled with holes, and then the shoes had just been left off entirely. Not that she minded not wearing the shoes, but the lack of real clothing on her upper body... The Longarm was left wishing that she had had the good sense to purchase a shirt less heavy than her preferred t-shirt, emblazoned with the number 2, but she didn't, and now she was standing in the middle of a strange city, sweating in the heat of the day, smoking like a chimney, she had just woken up, drenched, on the outskirts of town, and now she was getting weird looks from the citizens.

Today was off to a phenomenal start.

She was currently stalking her way into the city of Atzintli, more than content to swing her unusual limbs as she went - the artificial breeze such movement made was a special kind of bliss to Kelsi. Her bare arms were bearing the brunt of the strange looks. Not that this was anything new to the young woman; her life as a Longarm, born and raised in the Blues, meant that she was more than used to being something of a freak compared to the "normal" humans. Her right arm, bearing the word "BULWARK" in thick black ink, was also getting a few stares from the people who were managing to divert their eyes from the freakishly long, powerful limbs. If there were any who could get past that, then the next thing to be noticed would probably either be the cigarette or the scowling face it was hanging from.

Those few who had managed to get their eyes up to that point had the good sense to communicate that to those who had not, and, as such, Kelsi was avoided by those who were cautiously watching her. But one unlucky - or perhaps he was actually lucky after all? - man didn't have the heads-up regarding the apparently pissed off Longarm, nor would he have cared anyway.

The man in question wielded a sickle in one hand, which was evidently not the correct tool for today's job: catching a runaway hog. Said hog was currently barreling down the wide street, making a beeline for the Longarm, who ground the cigarette between her teeth as she caught sight of the pig. It certainly wasn't like the ones she had seen on Flat Farm Island; this one was easily twice the size of those pink porks, and instead of being covered in primarily uncovered flesh, this thing was coated with dark brown fur. What appeared to be moss was growing on top of the piggy's back, and twin tusks were just beginning to protrude from its mouth. The only features that truly tipped off the beast's actual heritage were the distinctive schnoz... And the pathetic squealing noises it made as its little black hooves carried it forward, apparently blind to Kelsi's presence in its path.

"'I'm really not in the f*ckin' mood, hammy!" Kelsi roared suddenly, prompting the farmer behind the pig to come screeching to a halt. The little boar, however, ignored the angry Longarm - something it soon regretted, as its mad dash to escape the not-terribly sharp sickle came screeching to a halt. The shipwright's left hand was firmly planted on the animal's nose, and the right was raised into the air behind her, balled into a fist.

"Bulwark Hammer!"

The punch exploded forward as she roared the name of her signature attack, slamming her into the beast's forehead. She left her hand on the animal for a moment, before the ugly little thing slumped over onto its side, unconscious. The end of the cigarette in Kelsi's mouth lit up for a second as she took a deep breath in, and, as she turned to face the dark-skinned, sickle-wielding man, smoke poured out from her nostrils. "What. The f*ck. Was that?!"

[Deleted]

Bright hot rays flooded the muted blue trench-coat sported atop her shoulders as she stood still posing on the hard wooden deck of the cargo ship. As she looked out with land approaching, a cool ocean breeze salty with mist gently passed across her complexion and dampened her bright orange hair. However with the broiling heat above, the moisture swiftly vanished from the silent stone watcher. The process continued on and repeated for several more minutes as she continued to stare on coldly at the incoming island. She was focused and determined, set on achieving a goal. But the question was what? What was this woman seeking for on the Ciudadela Queendom?

Even after miles of traveling, she still hadn't told her companions the purpose of coming to this island. And after all the news buzzing around the Blues on what had transpired in the Queendom recently, the carrot haired lady knew that her acquaintances were bound to leave without her if this detour extended their reasonable deadline. But could she blame them? A recent coup wasn't exactly the most welcoming invitation to a group of visitors. And though the rebellion was crushed, the rumors of revolutionary ideals being spread across the land were of no interest to these traveling tourists. They were itching to leave. But this woman, Stacy The Pilot Airhart, wasn't about to leave anytime soon.

Steel creaked and wood cracked as each heavy step brought the buxom bounty hunter off the ramp to the ship. It had been difficult to stay standing in that prior position for however long she did. Had Stacy remained in that pose long enough in those conditions, she surely would've been cleaning saltwater out of her circuits all day long. Luckily for her, this obnoxiously orange jumpsuit served at least some valuable waterproof purpose. With one final step off the raised platform, the Pilot began scanning the setting around when she heard the shuffling of wood behind her. A turn of the head and she saw the little chore boy brat Maurice peeking his head out the window shouting down at her. "We're raisin the bridge up just in case of some pirates y'know? An-and don't be late, ya hear miss? W-we. We're not comin' back to pick ya up so don't be late, alright?" Her steel cold stare reflected agitation of having to deal with such cowards like these. If she had to find some other way off the island, then so be it. A huff and a puff in their general direction and the orange clad huntress carried on walking off the docks and into the cityscape.

Stacy casually strolled on through the cobblestone steps hardly bothering to observe the neat white rows of houses. After all, tourism was never much of a hobby for her. Instead the stormy eyed cyborg resumed her walking past the various residences in search of something else. For the past few days on that cargo ship, Stace had been confined to that heaping wooden garbage pile. For days she was left without any intelligent conversation from the swabbies aboard the ship nor from the men in command as they were all occupied in whatever palaver had to be said in the secrecy of their cabins. It had been a grueling week for the irritated inventor and the first thing she needed after all of it was a nice relaxing day of rest. The only problem? After half an hour of walking around these gray toned streets she had yet to find any indication of an inn. This island was just a nightmarish labyrinth of pale lathered houses. As far as the eye could see, this part of the Queendom held not a single establishment to fit the Pilot's needs. 

A heaving sigh later, she unknowingly announced her disapproval, "You've gotta be kidding me...Not a single damn inn?" The heavy clanking of steel had subsided by this point in time as the black booted beauty halted any further endeavor into the inner confines of the Queendom. Surely, the city or cities this island hosted were bound to possess a home for the weary traveler? One could not lead a land such as this with such little disregard for its visitors now could it? These were questions zooming through the marksman's mind hoping to logically justify the existence of an inn somewhere on the island. But none of these inquisitive embarks were going to assist her in locating the desired destination. Clearly the city of Cuauhmaitl had been the wrong initial choice for this lady to pass through. Regrettably, she turned back in the middle of the street and headed back toward the shore where she had started. What. A load. Of major. Bull. Her inner self remarked. 

.....

One annoying session of backtracking later and she found herself just about the same place she started. The ocean lay in sight a mere hundred meters away and the wide picture of vessels occupied most of Stacy's sight as her eyes directed toward the horizon. It was a such a serene scene for a moment so infuriating. Plumes of towering white clouds were all gathered at the horizon as a shimmering mist loomed over the straight edge. Truly, if it had not been for the lack of proper accommodations, she could have enjoyed the view. But in this time of need there was no purpose in looking off blankly at the sky. Instead, perhaps a stare off into the population for assistance on the confusing geography of Ciudadela. 

Hmm. Should I ask that couple? Nah, they seem way too gushy about each other to care about me.

Hmm. What about those workers? Nah, they'll swear me out. No better than sailors if you ask me.

Hmm. What about those girls over there? They look like the type to take on the town. Here's hoping then.

With haste, Stacy quickly but quietly made her way over to a party of people on the roof of some service based establishment. The reek of alcohol however swiftly made it apparent just what exactly the building was serving. She pinched the bridge of her nose in disgust and aimed to call the attention of the group when a sudden cacophony echoed through the city streets. The sound resembled that of a dull clang, almost that of steel striking a hard solid mass. And how wouldn't she know that? Half of her body was capable of creating the same frequency, after all. But enough thoughts on her own biology, now was the time for some geography. Stacy brought her hands together to her mouth, creating a dish that would send her curious message across. In an instant, without thinking, she chose the target of this question.

"Hey Lady White-Hair! You know of any inns around this place?"

[Vio]

All the buildings look the same... Thinking to herself as she followed the man-made roads of the town, Shakarri Montbretia found the environment around her so drastically different to what she was used to. Buildings of wood and of brick so unfamiliar, far different to the mighty trees and branches that cradled her curious wanderings, it was no wonder that she found no real sense of safety about her. The crooked bark of a tree, the gnarls of its branches, the shape of its lush green leaves. These were all little features that the young girl would use to identify the forest, the simplest snap of a branch enough to reveal the identity of a forest's guardian and the beasts it watched pass by it every day. But such uniform constructs were disorientating, the natural growths placed in unnatural ways, telling tales of the power humanity had wrestled from the planet. However, being lost was quickly becoming far less of a worry, the call of nature itself manifesting as an unsettled growl from her belly.

"Uh... I should find some food!" Muttering to herself as she poked her head around the corner of a building, it was through sheer luck that rich hazel hues caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a stack of fresh fruit, vivid citrus skins of rather large oranges catching her eye. The perfect thing to sustain her until she could hunt down some appropriate prey. Cautiously slipping around the wing of the nearest building, the lost lass proceeded to make a quick but quiet dash towards a nearby sign, crouching down behind it as if it were a patch of tall grass. Breathing soft and silent, she poked her head out once more to examine the surroundings, a few passing adults giving her fleeting glances akin to those of large herbivores. They did not care about her, Montbretia far too small to pose a threat to them, and them posing no threat to her unless she disturbed them. Mutual understanding was beneficial to any animal, knowing which others were your friends and which were your foes.

Up ahead, perhaps thirty yards at most from her present location, was the stand at which the fruits were being sold. To be truthful, the concept of monetary trade was rather alien to Miss Shakarri, her people relying more upon the trade of beneficial items. Some wove clothes, others hunted and gathered, and the Kuja protected the island. A thriving ecosystem in which nothing was wasted. But this place was different, the girl watching with curious eyes as a woman exchanged peculiar pieces of paper for half a dozen juicy green apples. She was rather certain she had just heard the word 'berry' used, but that seemed unusual in and of itself. Weren't berries small fruits that grew in clusters on shrubs and trees? Tiny mind working away at the possibilities of such articles being a type of leaf which had naturally high value, she did not let it bother her all to much, more concerned about finding something actually edible.

Three... Two... One... Go! Darting from her hiding place, Monty raced towards the vendor while his back was turned, using hands and feet to propel herself quickly and quietly across the warm and lumpy stone ground. It took about five seconds to cover the first fifteen yards, her initial pace decent, but it dwindled on the last half of the run. Just over fourteen seconds later and the little one came to a halt beside the market stall, placing herself just out of sight of the one who watched over it and stilling her breath. Short shallow breathing supplying oxygen to her body without making much noise, all that was left to do now was wait for the opportune moment to grab a piece of fruit. Hunger often led to risks and mischief, the aspiring Amazon no exception to that rule of nature, and so stealing was certainly nothing new. Yes, people considered thievery a bad thing, but what was worse? Taking something that can be replaced, or starving to death? That was her philosophy, even if it was stretching the truth a little in the current circumstance.

Come on, come on... Turn around already...! Worrying about the rumble of an empty tummy giving her position away, the dark-haired doll did her best to try and will away the hunger growing inside as she waited for the 'guard' to turn away once more. She could see his feet, wearing simple straw sandals and exposing lightly bronzed flesh, but the positioning of his toes indicated that he was more than likely facing far enough her way to spot her if she tried to move. It was surprising how much of her gathered knowledge about hunting and tracking - generally staying safe in the wilderness - applied to the supposedly advanced human race. What worried her most, however, was the fact that this man could easily catch her if he spotted her stealing. The ability to stretch his body meant that, even if she got a good head start, Montbretia would still be well within reach of him.

Yes! He turned around! Curious eyes keeping a close track of the movements made, her mind let out a silent shriek of joy - and perhaps her stomach one of impending relief - as large feet pivoted about to bare strong heels. Waiting for just a second to make sure the coast was clear, the sound of voices overhead was enough to confirm her suspicions and provided Montbretia with the opening she had been waiting for. Body twisting, knees unbending, arm outstretching, the fingers of her right hand wrapped themselves about the form of what was hopefully a morsel as tasty as it would be filling. Smooth, firm skin was covered by many tiny little nodules, giving the fruit an oddly waxy texture to it. Just like any other orange, really. Plucking it from the stall and clutching it to her chest, she darted away once more, slowing down and assuming a normal walk once she had cleared the sign behind which she had hidden. Fruit in hand, she began to peel away the skin to expose the rich amber flesh beneath, idly meandering across the street and down another route as she did so before taking a bite of the fruit. Rich and tasty, stronger than the average orange and probably about a third bigger, but the chance to savour such sweetness was quickly stripped of her.

"HEY!" A loud shout hitting her ears, a wary mind suddenly went to the trouble of painting perilous pictures of stretching arms trying to snatch her up, sending the flustered flower into a mad dash for safety. A nearby building offered some degree of shelter. Or, more precisely, the tree that sat beside it. Any tree that could support her weight was a good tree and, cramming the orange between her teeth, she quickly tried to ascend it...

[Deleted]

Perhaps the buxom bounty hunter should have chosen a more discreet method of addressing her newfound acquaintances. From the looks of it, her inquiry had certainly triggered a personal issue in either its content or delivery. Regardless, Stacy felt no remorse for the way she spoke her mind to this obnoxious group of children. And honestly, why should she? What could they possibly do against her? She was a master marksman who hunted notorious criminals as a job and was certainly not afraid of a mere congregation of youngsters...

Yet the most curious sensation passed over her once the girl she had directed the question to jumped off the top of the bar. That exchange of steel just prior to her descent made her uneasy. She can't possibly think i"ll just let her stab me right? I mean...she doesn't look that stupid. But Pliot Airhart wasn't foolish enough to lower her guard even for occasions with tiny fodder such as this. With each step 'Lady Whitehair' took, Stacy's hand drew an inch closer to the revolver strapped to her utility belt. She was nearly prepared to retaliate should danger present itself when, out of nowhere, she felt the slightest wave of force pass across her. ...Was that her?...Don't tell me this kid actually got her hands on one of those... Though it was difficult to decipher the situation, it definitely seemed to appear that this supposed fodder was much more than what met the eye. A Devil Fruit user. Of all the people she had fought throughout her career, very few if any had possessed such ability. Those cursed artifacts varied so vastly in power, it was nearly impossible to determine if some strengths derived from them or from natural skill. But something about that bizarre sensation told Stacy that this milky haired hussy didn't pull that trick out of her own biological potential. You cheeky little sh*t. No wonder you came at me with that attitude. With that suspicion mentally confirmed, the only question at hand was what sort of ability her fruit had bestowed upon her. 

The carrot top theorist's process of thought was interrupted when she soon realized a most peculiar anomaly. Try and try as she did, not a single sound could be heard in the bewildered barrel-holder's immediate vicinity. But how could all sound have been cut off? As a matter of fact, when had this effect been put in place- "You!!!" Stacy cried out just as the demon enhanced enigma sourly shouted back at her a completely irrelevant remark.

"Coward?..What the bloody hell does that have to do with anything, you damn dolt?" Of course being entrapped within the confines of this mysterious field of influence, not a single sound was sung from Stacy's lips. On a humorous note, any bystander would have been watching this woman gawking at thin air as if she were an absolute lunatic. But to her this was no joke or laughing matter. The irritated coat-bearer had simply approached the lot with a single question and merely desired to seek after an establishment of rest. Yet for some unknown and doubtlessly stupid reason, this cocky kid with the caramel complexion wanted to duke it out right here on the street. If it weren't for her tendency to avoid crime, Stacy would have triggered off a legion of lead into the numb skulls of these unbelievably vapid brats. Though she believed no words would come out, she proceeded to whisper on a few words, "So help me, princess...Please please please give me a reason to knock your ass to the floor." By this point her teeth were seething and foaming in rage at the belligerent nature of this color contrasting stranger. With her finger finally wrapped around that lovely curve of steel, Stacy found herself armed and ready to eliminate this annoyance if necessary. 

Interestingly enough, the girl must have deactivated her ability once she had finished talking for the buzz of the city returned back to the orange clad combatant. A big whoop. So the beautiful cacophony of stacked boxes, crashing waves and rumbling barrels filled the air once again. Why exactly the theatrics were needed for such a simple remark were beyond her. But forget that, she was too busy paying attention to the...English? Was that even a human language being spoken or not? After all, the mocha skinned minx had shouted seemingly comprehensible words before which meant she was obviously able to speak correctly, right? Eh, it didn't matter at all whether or not this chick could speak right or not. Stacy's finger was glued to the trigger and prepared to push it for a bullet to send straight to her mullet. "Goddamn. Can you hurry along already? Make a damn point or I can just shoot you right her- wait...What about my belt?"

It came as a surprise that even stunned the great Stacy V. Airhart. First, this lass wanted to thrust a knife through her. Now she was gushing quite grotesquely at the sight of her well endowed body?  What the hell had just happened? What was wrong with her? In such eloquent words, she expressed her disbelief at these new actions, "Excuse me?! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Even with her hand visibly in contact with the revolver beside her waist, Stacy completely forgot about the intent to attack earlier on. This turn of events had simply washed away all the tense atmosphere that the two set up before. Even the busty bounty hunter found her own grimace vanishing with each second of shock that played out in this scene. A tiny white-haired girl circled around her, admiring all the various gadgets and gizmos that hung from her armory of a body.

"You are one weird ass kid...But I'm just glad I didn't need to test these out..." A slight smile began to grow over Stacy's face but not for the obvious reason one might think. Attention and praise, they weren't of any interest to her. But a riveted fan of technology or at least one intrigued in the same field of armaments as her was nothing to abhor. Why, from the looks of her behavior, it almost seemed appropriate to allow this girl a test run on her firearms. And though the gal could very well aim the gun back at Stacy, it was nothing a little arm of titanium couldn't handle. "Hey, you know what?" Her hand reached back and grabbed the rifle on her right, barrel first. With a reluctant stare into 'Lady Whitehair's' single eye, she slowly handed over the gun while her other hand still tightly squeezed around a revolver.

"Knock yourself out."

[Vio]

Ascending this particular tree was perhaps not as easy as she would have liked it, but Shakarri Montbretia was skill adept enough at climbing to scale its peculiar bark quite swiftly, securing herself close to the top of the trunk and among the thick and heavy foliage. Hardly the typical tree she was used to, the young girl from Amazon Lily had actually forced her way up a type of palm that she had never encountered before. Far sturdier than a coconut palm, but with similar feather-like leaves that formed an uneven umbrella, the rough protrusions upon its trunk offered a number of ideal grip points and footholds that any other palm would lack. The dryad barely tilted with her weight, proudly demonstrating its strength. But admiration of such a plant was hardly the most pressing of matters as hazel hues danced about, taking in the surroundings below to the best of their ability. Not a single sign of a pursuer. But at least one thing stood out above all else.

"Se uks ich eh ohazh..." Mumbling quiet words that should have been 'she looks like an orange' through her mouth, forgetting that it was obstructed the the very fruit she was comparing her sights to, the peculiar preteen soon ended up looking down her little nose towards the morsel obstructing her maw. Securing her position among the leaves with her left arm, altering her position once or twice so that the bark protrusions were not poking her in the rump, she soon extracted the fruit from between her teeth with her free right hand before using her upper incisors to help scrape off the punctured peel, exposing the vivid amber flesh beneath. Citrus fruit was always nice and tasty, a point proven once again as she squeezed at the orange and licked away some of the seeping juice, filling her mouth with rich flavour which proved to be quite a bit stronger than she had anticipated.

"Ssssth," her backback hissed, a familiar serpentine head emerging from within. Likely disturbed from his slumber by the sudden unsteady dashes of passing minutes, Mambo eyed Miss Shakarri with a lazy blue eye before stretching his jaws and yawning a silent yawn. However, the girl's eyes only gave him a fleeting glimpse of greeting, her attentions instead stolen away by what was going on down below. As her previous assessment had revealed, a taller woman clad in orange hide stood in the open street, her head alight with fiery locks that made her fair complexion look white hot rather than snowy cold. Not that Monty knew much at all about snow, given that her homeland saw so little of it. Winters were mild compared to other lands, the natural insulation of the forests around turning any signs of snow into a cool rain long before it reached the ground. The same could likely be said for this island - whatever it was called.

White hair... I've never seen it on a person, before... Except, well... Recalling the silver locks of Elder Nyon, Montbretia quietly questioned the appearance of yet another face entering her range of vision. Another woman, whose head was adorned with fluffy white hair, this femme's colour was quite the contrast to the fair skin of the former. A rich mocha, a few shades darker than the Kuja girl's own complexion, and in her hand she carried a large bladed tool. A machete, most likely. However, the most intriguing feature of the two women now standing opposite one another were the array of other weapons they possessed - strange and unfamiliar tubes of iron and hardwood, the exact purpose of which eluded her. Knives and swords? Understandable. Bows and arrows? A staple weapon which, to many a Kuja's dismay, the tiny terror was hopeless with. But those weapons? She could not recognise them. Maybe some kind of club? But why would you hit something with the wooden end instead of the metal?

A bubble? Eyes widening with cautious curiosity, the baby brunette watched with her blue-eyed companion as an unusual sphere seemed to expand outwards from the one with bleached locks. Transparent, but distinct, it was only after engulfing a good few yards that the unusual projection halted, trapping the two women within its confines. Indeed, Monty herself sat outside of the perimeter, continuing to munch upon her treat without much consideration for the powers that be. She had most definitely witnessed supernatural abilities in her time, but only one such ability was comparable to what she was witnessing now. What monstrous beast had this girl slain to achieve the ability to... the ability to...? Actually, what was the bubble doing? From her current perspective, the spherical field seemed to have no influence whatsoever, far from the rose-tinted rays that the Empress herself seemed to be able to project...

SPOILER: Click to show

This was completely a reactionary post, so I cut it short. I'll pick up the rest when I've got more stuff to use in the next post?

[Kami-Gaz]

SPOILER: Click to show

 Roll with this

Clop. Clop. Clop. The sounds of a metallic clopping sound rang through the streets, it was a rare sound, but the people who lived along the port of the Queendom had grown accustomed too. This sound made its appearance in the area once every four months or so and had done for about six years now. Though every time it appeared people would still stop what they were doing to look at the cause with a face of disbelief, passers-by in the streets would normally stop what they were doing and people would let their jaws drop from open windows as they came to spy at the goings on. The maker of this noise would vanish inside of a waterside shop and would be in there for a short while normally.

“Ahh my favourite customeeer~. What is my Veera-nee doing here today? You’re a month early.” Said an old woman’s happy sing song tones as she walked past the counter and the young man she was already serving to hobble closer to the new entity that had walked in to her store. The old woman’s small hunched figure stopped a few feet short and then arched her head upwards to Veera. Her murky grey eyes examining the very beautiful woman, the curves she had and her unusual attire. “You always look so messy~ when you comeh? Do you ever stop tan-inkering with those legs?” She asked before tapping the golden coloured metal legs that the beautiful body they supported, all four of them stood tall and strong supporting a metal frame that encased a long slender black tail.

“Hehe, Come on Granny, I gotta keep tinkerin, otherwise I wouldn’t stay good at my job.” The tall woman said as she leaned her upper body down and to the level of the hunched over old woman. “You ditched another customer to greet me again? Hehe.” The violet haired tinker giggled after whispering, her lips were not moving, and yet a soft and kind voice filled the room, something that should not be happening. The old store owner did not pay it mind but the young man at the counter was looked confused and scared, as he could not take his eyes away from the mucky mermaid. Veera could tell that he was scared and pointed to the small box that was on her throat. “I am using this to talk, I’m mute.” Rang throughout the room, the soft tones coming from the woman, whose face never changed from a happy smile was still creepy to the young man.

“You… you gotta be pretty handy to make one o’ those…” He murmured quietly, making the old woman laugh as she scampered back to the counter and handed the young man a slip of paper.
“You said you need a shipwright? You just hit jack pot young’un; here is the smarted, most beautiful one from all of Silver City!” She announced making the mermaid blush, praise she was used too, but it still always seemed to make her happy. “Don’t worry about your order Veera I will get the usual shipped to your yard like usual.” The shop owner chimed, making the mermaid smile as she tilted the joystick on her metal leg suit making it dance around, making the metallic clopping noise ring out as she spun on the spot.

“Thanks Granny Wellwood!” Her prosthetic voice said before she stopped dancing and looked at the young man that was there. “You need your ship fixing?” She asked, her lips remaining sealed the entire time. Her electric blue eyes watched the young blonde haired man as he looked for the words to comment on this very strange being that was asking if he needed help. “My standard rate is 40 Beri an hour and you have to give me lunch and drinks… A pretty reasonable rate if I say so myself~. ” The fake voice chime, as the woman waited for the response she looked to her gloved hand and smiled, she was remembering how these gloves came into her possession until that image was torn away by the man.

“Uhh… I’ll take you t-to to the captain maam… Miss Wellwood is getting the wood we need delivered now.” He managed to say as he took a few steps forwards and passed the mermaids horse like mechanical body, he seemed nervous and shaky, did he think that mermaids were like fishmen? Or was he scared by her beauty… so many possibilities passed through the mermaids head before she simply grinned.

“Captain? Sure, what is he like? Is he hot? Because if he is he gets a discount~. If not I charge double and take your leg.” Veera joked as she pushed the joystick forwards and followed behind the young boy, her metallic hooves clopping against the ground with each step.

The Ciudadela Queendom was always a place where Veera met weird people, one time she even met a fish man here, but he was a bit of an asshole at the time so she shot him. “Hey kid, what is your name?” She asked, without moving her lips, both making the lad jump but smile.

“Bobby, And you are Veera? That is an odd name for a mermaid… Not that it’s a bad name, just odd.” He stammered in the end, trying to not offend the mermaid who had already hunched forwards with her voice box churning out some dark cackle of a laugh. “Ahh… what did I say?” He asked worriedly as if he said something bad, but at this point the pair had gotten near to their ship and something odd rushed off of it.

Veera’s laugh stopped as she looked at the small creature that ran off of the boat making a loud squealing noise as it sprinted down the street. “Did that boar just run off of your ship?” She asked, her eyes now intensely looking at the boy and then to the ship, this sudden turn of events. She knew it was not native to the island; she had been here enough over the last six to know most of the animals on it. “If it did you gotta go and catch your pet Bobby before a hunter does and makes a nice boar soup~” The voice sang as she moved her eyes back up to watching the ship. “Right so where is your captain?”

The young man looked at her and then to the boar and nodded “We have a few pet boars… for the cook you see… I’ll take you to Captain Riley. Then get it back.” He said before quickly leading the mermaid towards the gang plank.

[Vio]

“What’re they talking about…?” Monty asked, fingers still peeling away bits of the half-eaten citrus’ skin as she pecked and nibbled at it. Tangy juices were refreshing upon her lips and tongue as she watched the scene below unfold, her own idle mind pondering the curiosities of what the two women were doing. A great deal of their banter seemed to be about those strange clubs, but not a word of it so much as graced the child’s ears at first.

“Shish.” Mambo.

Miss Shakarri’s serpentine companion was resting his head lazily upon her shoulder, one blue eye staring softly into the distance and, every now and then, a flicker of pink danced beside the girl’s cheek. Such an aspect of snake-kind had always been a weird one to her, but that was to be expected. Indeed, the huntress was well aware of their ability to taste the air, but such a thing was difficult to put into perspective. The closest comparable sense humans had was a sense of smell, but whilst her senses might have been keen as a blade, there was no denying that Mambo was far superior in terms of being able to track based on chemical senses. Just one flick of his forked tongue and the snake could feed her a myriad of important information.

Then she froze.

“…”

Without so much as another word, the stowaway’s entire body shifted gears. The iron length of an unknown weapon was now pointed towards her location, but it was not the object that had disturbed her. Rather, the white-haired woman’s eyes had caught a glimpse of her silhouette, and that was enough to send the girl into high alert. Her breathing shifted, one deep breath, succeeded by a series of long and shallow intakes. Stability, silence; an ideal trick for lessening one’s presence as she further receded into the lush fronds of the tree in which she nestled. Her body balled more tightly, grip tightening beneath the splayed fingers of one hand. To the untrained eyes and ears, the tiny terror might as well have vanished into thin air.

She’s not downwind, so… Body relaxing as the mocha madam turned back to her auburn associate, Montbretia’s muscles loosened again, her breathing returning to normal. The thrill of the hunt had tuned her senses, transformed her – physically and mentally – into what might be considered an apex in adulthood. For someone a mere eleven years of age, there was no denying that this girl had far surpassed your typical hunter. Rifle and machete were of no comparison to her skill, but even then she still had so much to learn. But one of the core aspects of knowing how to hunt was to understand your prey, and to understand your prey meant you knew how best to react when you were the one being hunted.

_{“Shiihiihii! ‘Ey, y’all, me’ll link back up wit’ ya lata’!”}

She talks weird… The odd bubble of silence – a faint shimmer in the sunlit air – had long since fizzled away. The words of the women were now audible once more, as too were the talks of the few nearby. They looked far less intimidating, likely not the warriors of this nation, but nonetheless they were acquaintances of the rifle toting woman. Mere seconds passed and the two ladies who had exchanged words in strange silence now walked away from the rest, headed towards the thicker arrangement of forestry which seemed to dominate the majority of the landscape beyond the town. Finishing her orange, allowing the bare peel to fall to the earth which would claim it back, Monty descended the dryad.

“Nth…?”

Mambo eyed her, head raised.

“What?” she quizzed, wiping orange juice from her chin with a stroke of her forearm.

Her company tilted his head.

“Yep, we’re following them. Why?”

With a gesture that vaguely resembled a roll of the eyes, the sleek serpent coiled himself back into the confines of her luggage, perhaps well aware of the fact that once his friend had set her mind on the hunt, little could dissuade her from pursuit. Accepting the fact that he’d rather have no part in it until they got there, the Kuja kid finalised her descent before darting along the streets in the wake of her newly discovered quarry. Oddly enough, the proximity to the woodland expanse was greater than she had initially observed, bathing her skin and hair in a familial jade glow. The light of the sun piercing emerald foliage and rendering the world around her in a lush vibrancy instilled her with a homely sensation. But there were nonetheless oddities abound.

Unlike the jungles of Amazon Lily, the trees here were substantially different – lighter barks and differently shaped leaves, with knobbly branches in some and others perfectly straight as they climbed skyward. The forest floor was littered with rich soils and grasses, shrubbery and blooms of exotic silhouette and hue. But despite the visual stimuli, Montbretia was taking into account far more than most would even consider. The fragrances of floral blossom made for a cocktail of rich odours, whilst the gentle crawl of the tropical winds through the trees carried such scents strongly. The winds pushed humid air against her face, confirming her suspicions of being downwind of her prey – ideal when on the hunt.

And her prey was dead ahead.

Once more, her body shifted. The sight of white and red locks imprinted in her hazel eyes as she crouched low and began to move. A slow and steady zig-zag through the brush, stance dropped so as to keep all things important in her line of sight without losing track of her targets. This was, in all honesty, a far more innocent pursuit than she would normally commit to. There was no intent here – no drive to best her quarry, or obtain food. Rather, her steady chase was founded from raw curiosity; those strange clubs of iron and timber, the fact that the one woman spoke so strangely, and even the fact that she had hair as white and as fluffy as cloud. All of these were catalysts toward this odd tracking habit.

CRIKIKICK!

“Uh-oh…” The sounds of footsteps in the dirt, of small birds in the distance, of gently rustling leaves – none of such noises could hide the fact that she had just misjudged her footing. So used was she to the sturdy bracken and great slithering roots of Calm Belt trees that the tracker abandoned just the smallest fraction of her caution. Small as it might have been, it was enough to break the desiccated husk of a long fallen branch, and that sound lit up the environment. For a second, she hoped to high heaven that her failure had not alerted her prey, but one such mistake was not so dead a giveaway. She knew that. Especially when it came to humans; even her own people had trouble worming her out of her escapades. Her nerves calmed quickly. Then she advanced again, this time with further caution imbued within each and every act…

SPOILER: Click to show

{*OOC*}

[/b]

[/font] (00ff55)
Mambo (ffcc00)
Taylor (eeeeee)[/ul][/ul][/spoiler][/font][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[Kami-Gaz]

The gangplank creaked and cracked as the heavy iron centaur slowly clopped up and on to the ship to meet the captain. The feeling of balancing up the precariously placed plank made the mermaid giggle as she carefully nudged her control stick forwards to get on the ship. “What kind of ship doesn't have a proper gangplank? This is just a piece of drift wood… then again the hull looks like that too.” She thought aloud as she got on to the deck that was littered with hay and sailors who were hauling big crates around. Each one was making shuffling and squealing noises as they were dropped.

“Cap! I found a shipwright!” the young man who lead Veera to the ship shouted as he nervously followed behind to see what was going on around the ship. Making everyone snap their head around to the mermaid and stopped everything they were doing. The only noise that was on the ship now was the shuffling and squealing of the boars in their wooden cages.

“You guys must eat a lot…” Her vocal box chimed as she looked around, a single man vanished into the cabin as the captain looked down from the wheel of the ship. “Shipwright? I sent you to get wood so we could build more cages, not a damn shipwright!” The young woman’s voice echoed, it sounded stressed, annoyed.

The woman then looked up and down the woman, then her eyes lit up, a mermaid was on her ship! This was going to be easy money and her crew were already on with her plan. “Miss shipwright! If you could give us a quote for some repairs? These boars are not nice and like beat our ship up.” She said making the confused mermaid take a few steps closer to the captain, her hand gently pushing the control stick forwards, they weren’t even concerned with her being in a giant brass machine. “I mean, look at this place, we can’t go out to sea with all of these boars in a bashed up ship, can we?”

The mermaid looked around, these were some big lies, and the young man said that it was for the crew’s chef to cook…. However, the amount of boars here were enough to devastate an island if they got loose… “How old do you think I am?” Veera asked, the smile on her face turned into more of a snarky grin. “With how beat up the hull is, the amount of hay and crap on the deck? This ship isn’t fit to sail.” The mermaid said before pulling her rifle out from the mechanical horse legs and pointed it to the side, completely away from the captain and her boar carrying men.

“Uh… I don’t know… 19? To be honest all you mermaids are so beautiful you could be 60 and look younger than me!” The captain said with a nervous laugh, she was taken aback by the fact her ship was not sea worthy any more. “What do you mean this ship isn’t fit to sail?” She looked around, not even concerned that the stranger had pulled out some weird looking rifle, in her mind she could beat the mermaid out well before she could do anything stupid. The ship did look an absolute mess, but it was floating and was used to sail here just a few days ago, did she mean the boat wasn’t a healthy place for the crew? That may be true, but it was going to be a lot cleaner in a few hours.



Then something strange happened, as the crew got back to their jobs to avoid suspicion from the strange mechanical legged stranger she would burst out laughing. It was a high static laugh, something that would scare children and unnerve most men who heard it. “19? Oh, you are too kind! But I’m not that young.” The voice that came from the box had lost its kind and soft tone and instead was deeper and sounded angry, before anyone could do anything she shot and a small spike flew from the end of the gun and dug into the man that had just walked out the door with a small cannon sized weapon. Everyone stopped as the laugh continued and the smile on her face turned sinister. “Don’t get greedy child.” Then the man who was trying to pull the small dart out of his body seized up, he started to shake and scream and the small cannon he was wheeling out fired off into the rigging of the ship sending a net that tore the sails and wrapped around the mast.

“I’m Mute not stupid.” She said simply as the gun was placed back into her legs and the screaming man stopped. Everyone was on edge and shocked at what happened; before they could act, the mechanical monster was gone, at a full sprint over the creaky gangplank and into the town. “I should stop pissing off potential customers~!” The voice box shouted as she left a dust trail down the main street in her escape attempt. The fact she was more concerned about the money over the fact that they just tried to catch her and make her a slave like nearly every other pirate has would make most people question what this young woman has done in her life.

“Get that fish! She’ll make just as much money as this job will! Go!” The young woman shouted as she kicked a crate open and the boar that was inside it onto the island. “Set what boars are here free and chase her!” She shouted making the men each panic and run… they did not want to disobey her.

[Vio]

She had barely made a second step before stopping again, eyes catching the strange glimmer of a ghostly shell enveloping her chosen prey as they halted their own progress. She had naïvely believed that the two women would have passed off the disturbance of a broken branch is little more than the sounds of local fauna trampling through the undergrowth, but the visual cue of a faint shining bubble and the auditory absence that seemed to accompany that gentle trace were strong enough a signal to alert her to the effects of her blunder. Shakarri Montbretia froze again, body low amidst the ferns and the foliage as she watched them exchange silent calls. Even if it seemed to vanish as quickly as it was conjured, that strange sphere of influence had an even stranger effect upon noise.

“…”

Lady White-Hair mouthed something; an exaggerated lip movement akin to a shout, but without a trace of sound. And then, in that split second, she and the girl in orange pushed apart with due haste. One woman pathed one way, the other took a different route. The young Kuja recognised such a tactic immediately. Having hunted her fair share of smaller pack beasts, the sight of them splitting apart was ingrained into her instincts as a huntress; animals did such things to confuse predators and lessen casualties, preserving the lives of themselves and their families by forcing hunter beasts to make an extra decision. In the animal world, hesitation could be the difference between life or death… or a scraped knee. Heaven knows she had experienced her fair share of cuts and scrapes whilst on the hunt.

That won’t work, she informed them with words unspoken. Indeed, though her age might have stated inexperience, Monty had long since made a mental mark on the more interesting of the two. Deciding which beast to hunt prior to pursuit was the key to survival, and her hazel eyes effortlessly tracked the mocha madam as she parted ways and rushed to the trees. In just a second, the youngster had darted forth from her hiding place, prowling swiftly and silently in the wake of her quarry.

Boots pressed against the roots and bark of a sturdy dryad, the gunwoman propelled herself into the arms of the lower canopy above and began navigating a network of thickened branches that concealed themselves amidst the lush green ceiling. The little huntress paused for a moment, sheltered in the shadows of a tree before scaling its nearest neighbour’s knobbly flank. Low branches and rough outcrops of bark provided all manner of hand and footholds for which to climb upon, likely forged by the efforts of weathering and stray animals. She silently thanked them for their assistance, feet now resting firmly upon arcing bough. What a thrilling pursuit this was turning out to be, but alas she was not in it for food. All that the child wished to sate was her curiosity.

The smaller branches look so flimsy! They won’t hold me… Eyes assessing the network of grasping arms through which she now crawled as her quarry ran, Miss Shakarri was certainly well versed in the strengths and weaknesses of even the mightiest of trees. Compared to the forests of Amazon Lily, those of the Queendom were far less impressive, though that was not to say that there were no outliers. Indeed, some of the largest trees here were more than capable of bearing incredible weight upon their oaken shoulders, but for the most part the slimmer growths were hazardous to climb upon. Her footing kept light, navigating through as many of the thicker shrouds of emerald as she could, she continued to follow.

“Ugh, she knows this place better than I do? No fair,” the girl whined under her breath, realising that her target had managed to outpace her own navigations by quite some margin. Leaping and bounding through the canopy was certainly a far faster means of transport than her own steady crawl, akin to the movements of a small monkey, but speed alone was not going to win this race. Another hunting tactic needed to be deployed, and Montbretia was already making adjustments for such a thing by the time she had lost a direct line of sight. Group animals always gathered again once they had believed to have shaken their pursuers, so where best for the cunning predator to go than straight to the meeting point…?

Less than a minute later and both of the Kuja’s targets had come to bear in the shades of a sturdy forest guardian. And, though she was off by a few yards, the brunette’s own place of rest was in a nearby tree. Though she might have smugly attributed this to clever calculations and unparalleled skill, the truth was that she had stumbled upon this place by sheer luck of the draw. A mix of understanding of basic herd tactics and her own caution of this unfamiliar but simultaneously homely environment had brought her to a location that, quite frankly, had been selected right in the moment. There was no preplanning, no deep logic. She just sat there, perched upon a high branch and looking down at the very spot to which her quarry had come.

“Now what?” she asked herself. “They kind of tired themselves out for no reason…”

“Shishish…” Mambo stirred.

“Hmm!” Reaching into her pack, Monty drew out a simple stone. A small grey pebble rounded by the flow of a stream and possessed of small silvery white veins. Nothing really special, but it looked pretty all the same. But aesthetics were not its purpose here, as proven when she stretched back her arm and honed in upon where the two women rested. With a swift flick of shoulder, elbow and wrist, the little girl tossed the stone through the air, aiming at the ground just shy of the white-haired one’s feet…

SPOILER: Click to show

{*OOC*}

[/b]

[/font] (00ff55)
Mambo (ffcc00)
Taylor (eeeeee)[/ul][/ul][/spoiler][/font][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[Kami-Gaz]

“You really have to stop pissing off random groups of Pirates Veera, it’s really bad for business!” The woman running along the cobbled streets of the roads leading out of the town shouted to herself, her lips only parted to take breaths leaving her voice box to say her thoughts aloud. “I mean sure that time back near Zarzara wasn’t my fault but Neptune damn it that guy needed a few thousand vaults!” She rambled on as she ran, the metallic hooves clattering on the stony roads. This was a full gallop, the sounds of the pistons going at full force and the sparks of electrical energy flowing around the golden brass frame of the horse legs were beautiful to the inventor, they told her that her work was doing exactly she wanted… get her the hell out of dodge and quick.

The many shops and houses were in all shapes and sizes that started to get sparser and sparser as the woman charged through the town, not looking back at what could be following her. “It sounds like a stampede behind me; this is really bad for business!” The voice box shouted, the tone sounded slightly panicked, looking over her shoulder the mermaid would learn to regret her decision. Behind her was a massive dust cloud that was being kicked up by a massive pack of boars and behind them the pirates that unleashed them.

This situation was looking horrible, and that was before Veera realised she had gone off of the paved path and onto mud, towards the treeline that marked the end of town. The only indication of the change in terrain was when a leafy branch slapped the back of her head as she charged into it. “Oh crap, this isn’t good this new frame can’t turn good yet!” The voice box screeched out in horror as the woman turned her attention to the front and kept jolting the joystick that controlled her movements side to side to avoid obstacles. Behind her the sounds of squealing boars and angry men were slowly gaining now their target was on rougher terrain.

“Run run run run run, dodge, run run run~” Veera was now pouring nearly all her concentration and energy in to just running and that was apparent in how the voice box was monotonaly repeating the words run and dodge, that was all that her mind was focused on. The people and animals that were chasing her being a good fuel to keep her strange ability to power her machines going. The thrill of being chased was exhilarating and more than what she had asked for. The last time she had been this exerted was on a swim into Death islands shallow water to fix a client’s Hull.

A row of trees were in the way and veera was unable to stop in time to avoid them so instead she turned sideways and let her metal exoskeleton smack into the hard wood, making it shake violently and something small fall onto her back. The tree did not stop her momentum it just made the iron centaur bounce and spin out in to the path that was behind it and then another thunk could be heard, this one sounded like it was a lighter object.

Now at a full standstill the mute would look around to see the scene of chaos she had created. A ginger girl was on the floor beside her, a white haired girl was safe but not too far from the ginger, and there was an ever-off rumbling in the tree she had just walloped into. Creepily a smile formed on her face and then giggles came out of her mouth… a sweet sound that would melt many a cold heart. The voice box chimed into life, the little light in the corner blinking with every word “Well this is really a pickle… Pickles are bad for business and taste pretty horrid… No, not now Serious time. The pigs are coming you gotta run!” The box said, apart from panting the woman never moved her mouth to even match the sweet sounds that was coming from the box.

The sweat-covered mermaid quickly grabbed her joystick and let the walker frame she was in trot around in a circle to face down the path. As it did, Stacy slowly sat up and was unable to get a word in before she felt a sharp tug on her long jacket, a broken piece of the walkers frame had gotten caught on her jacket when the mermaid who was controlling it turned herself around. “Wha…. What just happened?” She asked groggily just before the walker took off at full speed dragging the still half out of it pilot down the path.

“I need to get to Mac’s, he can help!” Veera thought aloud again. Not long after she left, the ramble of boars would tear through the forest and some would even follow her onto the path, but it was nowhere near the stampede it just was. Maybe even the men that were pushing the boars on had stopped now.

[Vio]

In all honesty, Shakarri Montbretia was not at all sure of what had just transpired. In fact, her young and inexperienced mind simply could not wrap itself around the series of unfortunate – and frankly very painful looking – events. One moment, the two women whom she had pursued through the woods were bickering amongst themselves. The next, a four-legged beast with iron hide wrapped around its lower half had come stampeding through the thicket, crashing into the fiery haired femme before carrying her off. Certainly, the Kuja kid had experienced her fair share of being smacked into by wild animals, not to mention the inflexible arms of mighty trees whenever she mistimed a jump or a swing, but that looked just downright painful. Indeed, painful enough to make the girl wince.

“Ya see ‘dat!?”

The white-haired woman’s manner of speech was rather unorthodox, to say the least. Monty cocked her noggin subtly, raising one eyebrow curiously. However, before either of the two mocha maidens could say another word, distant sounds reached the ears of the little huntress. From one direction, a rattling sound like that of a woodpecker hammering upon bark; and from the other, much nearer, the distinctive sounds of human voices and noisy footfalls through the bracken and fern.

I guess these aren’t friends of hers, either… Lowering her squatting stance, fingers gripping tightly the knots and the bark, the baby brunette watched and listened in sheer silence. Blending into the greenery of a forest environ was most certainly a specialty of hers and, even though she currently wore no paints or such upon her skin, the little one still hid herself well from eyes that scoured the earth below. With cautious moves, her previous quarry began to scale her own tree, though the youngster could not help but quietly criticise her means of doing so. Fortunately, she soon found distraction in something else – approaching people.

_{“C’mon, we don’t have time to waste!”}

_{“B- But…! This jungle is a maze…!”}

Much to her surprise, Montbretia’s thoughts on the matter were soon repeated by the cowering crook’s comrade. Sure enough, it appeared there were only two people present in the Queendom’s rainforest (possibly three) who knew anything about navigating such dense forestation – one woman by virtue of inhabitancy, one girl by virtue of instinct. Hazel hues spotted the older, one-eyed one and her gesture of silence, and proceeded to roll in retaliation. As if a great Kuja would need to be told to keep quiet! Long before the gesture had even been made, the child had adapted her stance and her breathing to blend with the soft resonance of the island’s wilds.

Eventually, the men vanished into the green.

“Me nyame is Tayla’!” said ‘Tayla’, having abandoned her own perch in favour of firmer footing. The feral flower remained above, but allowed herself to become more visible. It was an uncanny ability, sometimes comparable to more supernatural skills, but really it was all just clever tricks of the trade. To hide oneself amidst the environment was a skill that any good hunter needed to learn – stillness, focus, regulation and camouflage were all key aspects that apex predators made top use of. But, this was no longer about the pursuit of challenging or interesting prey. As such, she abandoned such regimes; “What ‘dem call you?”

“Monty…,” the girl replied, bright eyes affixed to their target. There was a soft hiss, before a familiar head poked itself free of her rucksack and slithered over her shoulder. A pink fleshy fork flickered, tasting the air once more as turquoise beads looked lazily about; “This is Mambo.”

“Shiushiu…”

The serpent stretched its mouth agape in a voiceless yawn, then began to coil its way free of canvas confines. Carefully, he wove himself around his companion, draping himself across her shoulders like some sort of scaly scarf, with his head raised to eye level as he too observed the woman. So, this was the ‘prey’ that Montbretia had been chasing…? Nothing edible; but it was quite unusual, with a familiar sort of heat.

“…What’s with those other people – the not-women?” queried the kid, revealing some of her naïveté about the opposite sex. Unfortunately, her curiosity did not desist: “And, what’s that club you’re holding? It doesn’t look very effisicient… And why is your hair white? Are you old…?”

SPOILER: Click to show

{*OOC*}

t had to be done~!

Starring…

Shakarri Montbretia (00ff55)
Mambo (ffcc00)
“White-Hair” Taylor (eeeeee)

[/ul][/spoiler][/font][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[Kami-Gaz]

Everything was so quick as Veera ran in the direction that was away from the trouble that was following her, though something was odd. She felt slower, bogged down by something heavy. Had she caught a branch or a small animal? No, she would have heard the yelp. Suddenly she heard the yelp from what was bogging her down.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU GET US INTO, YOU WHITE-HAIRED BITCH!”

“Okay so I didn’t snag an animal… I got some hot head,” Veera thought aloud as she nearly fell over the gun that was jammed between her metallic rear leg and body, almost tripping the mechanical contraption and its rider. “Ahh, Really? I’m running and you do that, stupid girl!” She yelled out with a dark voice, haunting to those who heard her previously soft and angelic voice. Veera was visibly angry and the redness in her face was not from the over exertion of running it was from the annoyance that her walking gear was attacked.

She was however drowned out by the shouts of her pursuers, they were angry and they did not want to give up on this chase easily. This is when the ginger gun woman turned around and took offence to them they barely got an utterance of her notorious name out before they were peppered by an automatic gun… an automatic gun that fired nails… this… this was a dream! Mac would have to wait just a little bit, getting her sparky tail on this gun was more important at the moment.

Clop clop clop clop. Veera was running and she was about to pounce on the angry redhead. “WHO BUILT THAT GUN! IT IS GLORIOUS!” She shouted out, a gleeful grin plastered on her face and the voice box again having shifted its tone this time to something akin to an excited child. “Can I look at it? I might be able to make more… or make it better!” She said before reaching back and quickly pulling out her 12-barrelled rifle and pointing it towards the running men. “You can look at mine!” She added still in the excited tone.

Then quickly the hammer went down and the shout rang aloud and proud, echoing off of the many trees and impacting into one of the running pirates arms making a yell of pain echo again. “THE MERMAID HAS GUNS TOO!” He shouted with the pain, still sprinting away to get back to the ship, his captain was going to learn about all of this one way or the other, the boars may cause issues but now the captain knows to fear Veera and her new buddy it might make it safer to stay on the island.

“I am Veera Falcone, Some people call me Veera-nee and others just call me the crazy lady… either is fine. Who are you?” Veera asked as she replaced her weapon back into the iron body and thrust forwards her free hand. “I hope she isn’t like the others wanting to sell me to the marines… I tried hanging around them and all I got was dumped.” She thought aloud as she awaited the handshake to be done and a name to be learned from the ginger woman with the very beautiful guns, the mere thought of them just made the woman feel like a child again.

[Vio]

“M’kay, les’ staht from da top!” the white-haired woman began, clearing her throat unnecessarily. With a curious and somewhat precarious tilt of her stance, Shakarri Montbretia listened with vague intent. So many questions, so many answers; how many of them did she really want to hear? Fortunately, her company was apparently not one to blabber on, quickly cycling through the various answers requested before focusing rather heavily on the weapon in question.

“A gun…?”

The concept of such a weapon was nothing short of alien to the jungle junior, but at least ‘Trippy’ was quick to reveal a comparative. Indeed, as a youth of the Kuja Tribe, it was only natural that she would be aware of the bow and arrow. All youth were trained in its usage, particularly those who wished to join Amazon Lily’s warriors, and those who were particularly adept soon learned to wield a Snake Weapon of their very own. That being said, Monty was a terrible shot with any sort of mechanical weapon – even the arch and string of a bow posed great challenge to her.

In a similar vein, Mambo was no Snake Weapon. He wore not the beret and neckerchief of his cousins, and his pattern and features were far more typical of a viper or constrictor than such a peculiar species. To look at him alone would make him look like nothing of import or value, but he was truly an extraordinary example of serpent. He too eyed the weapon – a rifle – with the closest thing to a quizzical look that he could muster.

Both of them flinched when the bullet struck the tree.

“Me nuh know,” Taylor continued; “but it ain’t ‘cuz me a cowahd!”

Where’d that come from…?

“Me only nineteein! Speakin’ ah ages, ‘ow ol’ are you? …Did someone tell ya tah trahk me doun?” It appeared the gunner had her own set of enquiries to make, barraging the baby brunette with questions of various natures. Nothing complicated, of course, and nothing that was really worth hiding. But despite this, the inquisitor had made Miss Shakarri feel somewhat nervous. Perhaps, she considered, it was due to being in such an unfamiliar environment. The trees, the plants, the air itself! All were familiar to the child of the Amazon Lily. But at the same time, it was all strikingly different from home itself. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but it had been prevalent ever since she had set foot into the Queendom.

“Snfff…” Mambo sneezed.

“I’m… Uh…,” Montbretia looked to her hands, fingers still gripping the branch, then up again. “Eleven. I’m from Amazon Lily. And, no-one told me to follow you. I was just cururious about that club – I mean – about that ‘gun’. I- I’ve never seen anything like it before…”

Truth be told, the miniature maiden was on high alert. This strange new weapon had proven itself in numerous ways already. The brief flare of the muzzle, the force of the impact, and the fact that the projectile itself had struck almost instantaneously had all unnerved a girl who was so much more used to thrown missiles. What did a gun even discharge, anyway? Arrows? Stones? Or did it have some sort of special projectile unique to its kind? What’s more, did the woman wielding it possess the power of ‘Haki’ – even the preadolescent had born witness to that mysterious primal power and what it could achieve. She wasn’t sure which was the more frightening possibility; Haki, or the sheer force of the weapon alone…

SPOILER: Click to show

{*OOC*}

[/i][/b]

Shakarri Montbretia (00ff55)
Mambo (ffcc00)
“White-Hair” Taylor (eeeeee)

[/ul][/spoiler][/font][/sub][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]