Last Chance to Start New [Vio/Marines]

[Aubs]

With a loud roar for strength and a grunt for resolve the men forming the horns of Captain Rutherford’s bull charged forward. They wouldn’t be able to break into a sprint but there would be a banging of bodies for sure. Things were finally coming to a head. The watershed moment that came only when two forces hit going at full speed. Part of River was excited, even though he knew that most fights weren’t like this anymore. The Marines no longer spent their time corralling rouge armies, no now they just dealt with belligerents. The style of fighting had gone from large scale to tactical, with smaller but more trained units moving autonomously. Fighting pirates ranged from using a hammer to knock them on the head; all the way to pushing street through street to claim a town. Ship combat was vastly different than this exercise, but that was acceptable in this case. This little skirmish was more about throwing people into the fire and seeing if they burned. No every warrior could lead, and not every leader carried a sword. River lived by the idea these days, unable to use weapons as he once had.

With perhaps a little too much pride he remembered defeating an honest to god Fishman with nothing but the blunt side of his flintlock. There had been a time when he had known that only his ingenuity and his skill at arms would get him through a fight. Now River relied on his devil fruit, as much as it pained him to admit. There was something empowering about limitless control and chaotic destruction, but part of the old ruffian worried about the path that he was going to have down now. The Marines, through some strange connection of his old mentor and probably some back room deals had acquired for River a devil fruit or esteemed power, one that would have been sought by pirates the world over. The last ten years of his life had been spent trying to convince others that the marines could do better, and now he was obligated to prove it. There was no more time available for political debate, no time left for worrying if he could do it. His time was now.

With a simple opening of his hand Rutherford let the sword he had been wielding drop to the ground. He wouldn’t be using it anymore today. His crew was here; in bits and pieces, some knew and some did not. Selfish thoughts aside now was the start of something…special. Air blew out of his nose unceremoniously, like a bull about to charge. The troops moved forward.

A linear formation, a simple thing with a mixture of flaws and strengths. When fighting a Bull the general consensus from historians was that you should make the horns over-extend themselves. The formation relied on enveloping the enemy and cutting off a regress route. If the timing was disrupted with something like a feint or a withdrawal then it was possible to unbalance the formation. Yes you would still have to contend with the heart of the enemy forces when the larger phalanx collided with your front line. However, that was a conventional fight, one that could be won or lost in dozens of ways. Additionally, there was no sign of Alexis in the front of the enemy array, meaning that she was most likely in the rear and would be reactionary. This microcosm of a war was setting up for a rather simple play through. For all River had heard of this Conway’s intellect however he half expected better.

With a dim crunch the forces met, the thin line of Conway’s meeting the quick moving chargers from River’s own troops. Without delay the line was pushed back a few feet, but to the credit of the Marines those are the edges of the motion rotated towards the attacker and cut them off from passing lanes. Then, just as suddenly the winning group pushed back and steadied themselves. Both left and right were regaining ground, the arguably less skilled but larger force being pushed back. The blades came out clanging and banging in their ancient dance. Time was the real enemy here. Without an envelopment this would turn into a line on line fight, and while the numbers favored the crew it would prolong the struggle even more.

Fine then, time to put on the pressure.

“Wilde, move out. Vice them!”

As the XO made his preparations River paced behind his formation, hoping to catch a glimpse of his target. Wilde would take the troops slowly forward, applying more and more pressure and attempting to push not only the enemy back but aid the envelopment of the other units with sheer numbers. If done correctly the impending second front would fluster the young leader. Inherently the plan would be outdone if the line gave way and overtook the flankers before everything was in place. But, the wall had not yet folded in and tried to dispatch with the Horns yet.

On to the next round…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

SPOILER: Click to show

Keeping it short. Yall have as much freedom as you would like.

[Vio]

Immediately the opposing force began to rush forwards, their ranks packed together and led by two approaching waves intent on piercing the Ensign's own wall of bodies, a stampede that would quickly overwhelm the smaller force. But the strategist understood this. Disguised among the ranks of the seamen and women as the formation had been constructed, Alexis Conway had quietly pulled aside those who seemed to have demonstrated some degree of leadership, whispering to them the culmination of her tactical decisions. And still, despite her planning, she was wracked by nerves. As cool and calm as she presented herself, bitter and harsh as a North wind, she was still but a human. The mind was fallible, her senses could lie, and she knew the only thing she could trust was the vast libraries of information that had been formed within. Time was of the essence, given only a few minutes to prepare a winning strategy against an opponent she knew nothing about, but she maintained her composure as she camouflaged herself among the rear wall. An important thing it was to remain calm, even in the most dire of circumstances, for a calm mind was blessed with clarity.

If all goes according to my plan, we will be able to force their 'horns' to either spread too far, or collapse in on themselves. The question is, which will it be? Which has the enemy accounted for, and has the Captain accounted for the possibilities? Miss Conway quizzed herself, playing out the multitude of known scenarios in her mind's eye as she did so. The baseline of the formation was simple enough; to force the bull's horns to over extend and thus weaken. But if the enemy continued to pressure them, it left them vulnerable to being collapsed in on. Quite simply, a wall like this was an almost perfect countermeasure to take, but it still had prevalent weaknesses. Ranks so thin that too much pressure in one point could break clean through and divide them, but that was something she had made sure there was a response to. To each of her 'officers' she had given but two commands to choose from. The former in the case that the enemy over extended, and the latter in the case that they attempting to break through. Quietly she observed, hidden away.

They appear to be holding well... This is good, she thought as the opposing forces began to struggle against one another. At one moment, her line was forced back several steps as the enemy crashed into them. And at the next, her army was pushing back and reclaimed what little ground they had lost. Strength of numbers played out against individual skill, both forces under the command of more experienced and thoughtful intellects. But there was still the issue of time. The longer the two sides resisted and struggled against one another, the lower the chances of her strategy coming to fruition. She wondered, for just a moment, whether or not Rutherford himself was also concerned about this. His force had the advantage in terms of numbers and, through perseverance alone, could hold out long enough to secure the win. But it was far too soon to spread the word. Far too soon to do anything drastic in regards to strategy and tactics. For now the horned woman would watch and wait, occasionally joining in the fight and parrying a sword or two, none of her foes aware of her identity.

There she was, looking just like any typical female recruit, really. White shirt, baseball cap (albeit it did not hold to well with her horns), and her lengthy hair stuffed down the back of her garb to make it look shorter than it was. This, and avoiding direct eye contact with the more competent men in River's ranks, meant that the reality of her presence was looked over so easily. How many had managed to glimpse the hooded figure in the back, believing her to be their target? Perhaps not that many. It was a good disguise, further concealed by the lines of men and women. Again the allies buckled, forced back by the relentless assault of a charging foe, only to absorb the energy and bounce it back like an elastic sheet. The prowess of the soldiers was obvious, for the supposedly sharp points of these horns were surprisingly dull once they drew close and struck. But now something had changed. The enemy ranks were moving in a different manner. The horns continued to pressure their lines, but now the body was starting to advance, likely in an attempt to pressure the blockade into a collapse.

They are trying to force our hand, it appears... In that case, we let them in... Without a word, the tactician cast her cold hues towards the nearest of her selected officers, mouthing a single word towards him when his eyes met her own. That word was 'scissor'. Alexis had taken the risk. Quickly the word spread along the rank and file like a surge of electricity through a wire and her own forces began to prepare their counterattack. Quite unusually, but just as she had ordered, the two ends of the wall began to press forward steadily, following the rhythm of the bull's own attack. At the same time, the central files began to ease themselves backward and split apart with due caution. Like a set of gates they parted to reveal the 'False King' and her guardsmen, essentially inviting the enemy inside. It was not entirely how the Ensign had planned it, but precise communication of plans and ideals had been difficult. Regardless, it was close enough and would suit her needs, at least until she was able to locate the curious Captain himself.

Again the horns pushed at the moving lines, unaware of the blonde woman's plotting, their ranks folding in little by little as the lines started to act as a sort of filter.

To beat a flanking tactic, one has to use a flanking tactic... It was a peculiar concept, but an efficient one all the same. The men and women under her command did not understand Steinveggur, so holding up a defence in an attempt to exhaust the enemy was pointless. The only path to victory they could take was to act in accordance with the rules that their adversaries laid out, baiting them in. The weakness of a tightly knit force was just that. They were compact, with only the outermost lines able to take action against the enemy. Box them in and those caught inside would have nowhere to go and nothing to do, incapable of escaping the walls formed by their own allies without disrupting and weakening their own formation.

The bull is made of individual parts - the head and the horns - which act as one to overcome the enemy. But if those parts are separated, or even forced to conform to the body, then the strategy itself is easily overcome, were the words that she recited within the depths of thought...

[Roin]

[OOC: Wrote up using this]

The clash had sounded and snapped Izlanda from her huff... and just in time. The larger attacking force crashed and the battle of formations was as evident as the physical war between Marines. From the position in the rear, Izlanda had briefly raised her hands to fight... but as fast as she had, they lowered in quick remembrance. The plan had been that she stay in the back! If she rushed forward now... that wouldn't do any good, would it!?

I-I was told to hold here... but in the back like this... I can't make myself more useful than some bait! I... I must help my comrades, even if it means the fight grows harder!

The girl's more kind side snapped at last, Izlanda's fists curling and extending from the coat. Even if she wasn't wearing her gauntlets, the girl wanted to punch that woman for making her do something like this! An officer fighting with just tactics was one who lacked the knowledge that people wanted more than just brains! As the fight neared a more intense swing, Izlanda at last moved toward the men forming the protective barrier... and much to their shock, Izlanda ran and leaped, bounding to the shoulders of two of the men. While she looked a bit goofy in her head, the woman leaped skyward out and over the groupings, the coat tugging along after her. Bounding skyward had left one thing immediately obvious... she could see the man that was the attacker's "King".

If I beat him, then the others won't get hurt further... so I have to risk it all on one attack!

Mid-jump and flight, the woman made a single, slow flip to angle and perform brief course correction... and as she neared the end of the flip, her leg extended to full length in a near straight line. After all these years, the botanist had kept her strongest attack for more stationary or unaware targets... but if someone doubted the crashing force of her Sukasshukattinguhīru, then it'd sure put them in a bad state! Extending the coat arms outward and simultaneously making her fists vanish within the sleeves once more, Izlanda let out a yell rather than declare the name of her strongest, single attack.

"Hiyaaaaaaaaaah!"

And just like that, the girl who'd defied the plan went on a crashing course out of her flip, going into a nearly uncontrolled flip-spree. There was no way to understand the gap in experience with River, but there was one thing the girl understood. That attacking in such a manner would clearly mark the opposition's leader to her fellow forces. Even if they were to beat Izlanda and discover her hidden identity, the woman was still in disguise with the majority of the other marines! If that cursed Ensign was so willing to use tactics, it'd allow her to barrel in and break the formation with if the enemy directed only a handful from the crowd to dispatch the lone, flying martial artist.

And just as the last of her thoughts and realizations came, Izlanda's flips ceased... and the leg loomed ever closer toward River. There was time to dodge well enough... but Izlanda was praying the man wouldn't out of sheer respect for the wild attempt. Izlanda was shy, sure... but in her duty as a Marine, she had to see to the safety of her fellow marines. If it cost her the pain of missing and hitting the floor, she'd attack the man again and again to disrupt the battle's frontline clash.

I won't let this continue, even if it's a mock battle! If I can end it now... then I'll risk everything!

And it was at that moment... that Izlanda found a great deal of folly in her plan. Ignoring the potential realization of where the Ensign would actually be, this would put her in a spot that might potentially be worthless. Any tactics were allowed... so if she were to be captured, it was possible that the morale could be turned against the smaller force by showing the captured decoy! Izlanda paled, the heel of her foot shaking slightly despite the falling power of gravity and the sheer style of the kick. Self-doubt had sank in just as quick as her hope to help the defenders as more than just a decoy had come... and in that moment, Izlanda had already put a wince on her face. She had chosen her path... and like her brothers, regardless of their poor choices, Izlanda wasn't going to back out despite the potential dangers of this plan! Even if she might blow this fight... the girl was depending on her luck and skill to hold through and disturb the enemy just as much as it might potentially disturb the Ensign's plans! It could potentially put the groups in such a state that whoever recovered first could take the fight to the other!

[Aubs]

Cute. Very cute. The Captain couldn’t help but smirk at the intended envelopment. It was just that, a cute attempt at moving things around on the battlefield. You see, if you viewed any skirmish as a game of chess, where two opponents arrayed themselves and moved in their prescribed methods to the bitter end, piece by piece, then yes this battle was going to plan. If however, like River, you saw a fight as a barely controlled bit of chaos then this was all about to spiral out of control, and into his favor. Ms. Conway probably assumed that if she flipped the field then things would become less complex. River’s men would be surrounded and both leaders would be eye to eye. It wasn’t a bad idea for certain, but it was based on the idea that this fight was a chess board, and not chaos tied up in ranks. Experience would be his savior, and victory would defeat Ms. Conway.

Her planned worked to well. “CHARGE!!!!” Was all the Captain said, screaming as he did so with a raspy yell. That was all he had to say really. As things stood now the bulky front line of his troops would be pinched between two fronts, and even though they could in theory push their way out of it, the task would be tough. However if the formation broke down and this charade of checkers ended then the battle would flip again, putting Alexis on her head. With a bloody cry the formation broke and took into a full sprint, some of course were caught too soon by the pincer attack, but some made the full sprint and leapt towards the target like pit bulls on chains.

Before they knew what was happening a channel had appeared between two forces, now set East and West and fighting towards the walls of the room, while River and Conway were staring at one another. The larger force was pushing the smaller one with sheer numbers, all of it possible by quickly spreading out. Even now the guards selected to cover Conway were being dispatched. This thing was all but over, save for the death throes of her forces of course. Then River looked up and saw her flying at him with an outstretched leg.

A gambit, a sheer and stupid gambit. Something didn’t smell right about the whole thing though, but there was nothing to do but react. Rutherford’s first reaction was to use his new powers, the one he had been working on for damn near the last year solid. But that thought was gone just as quickly. Nothing about burning a young Marine with acid was in good form, and he for one did not think that a training fight was the place to show off his destructive potential. And there she was, flying through the air like a real brawler, spinning into what must be a strong attack.
Experience and Conviction then.

Now, before River had been granted these devil powers he had relied instead on being a brawler. A man with very few abilities he had decided to give them simple names, ones that really stuck out in the mind. Looking up River tracked his opponent, waiting until the last second he could stand. All at once River planted his left foot and twisted back towards his right, slipping out of the way of the kick and rotating just enough that his now extended arm was poised for its next move. The acrobat’s foot connected with the wooden floor, sending debris into the air with the sheer force of it. Whether or not her leg would be damaged from the missed attack was up for debate though. Curling into a tight fist River’s hand began to tremble with effort, so when his right foot slammed back into the he could transfer the weight and torque into a single punch

Teeth clenched Captain Rutherford dropped a knee, bringing his fist just below the shrouded face of Ms. Conway and swung with the biggest uppercut he could muster, connecting with her delicate chin and lifting River off his feet. As she hit the ground after contact the veteran marine grabbed the scruff of that strange robe and lifted, watching as the hood fell away to display a bruised face and a head of…black hair?!?!

Still crouched over the body River realized he had been tricked. This was not Alexis Conway, whose file clearly said was blonde. This had been a ruse, and a clever one. Just where was the “King” now that the battle had devolved into a slugfest? That’s when he heard it, the of so familiar of pattering feet at a run and a loud grunt of exertion meant to power ones blade through the air faster than ever. On instinct River ducked forward to cover his unconscious charge and took the blade in the back. He was unconcerned with himself, but no marine deserved to be struck even by accident while unable to fight back. The blade cut deep into him, dulled edges forgotten.

But at least this young Marine would not be hit.

Oh wait…DAMNIT!

---

SPOILER: Click to show

[Vio]

Now, if all goes as planned, the force will move towards the decoy and expose their King... Remaining among the ranks of the farthest wall, Alexis Conway carefully observed the situation as it unfurled, albeit disappointed that her current vantage point offered little to no additional information. Her judgments were founded on how her foes moved before her, incapable of surveying the entire battlefield as she would have liked. Given the chance, she would easily be able to direct her troops more efficiently, but this was unlike other battles. Of the few conflicts she had taken part in, none had been much greater than a small skirmish between Marine and pirate forces. No foe had taken much more than common sense and good leadership to overcome. She had to admit, the current battle - even if it was just a training session - was far more complicated. Far more exhilarating, even. Uncertainty lingered at the back of her mind, constantly making her wonder if her plan would be successful, or if her opponent had seen right through it. The latter seemed plausible, which was what worried her.

"CHARGE!!!" yelled Captain Rutherford, his voice a grating and raspy scream as it echoed across the bay, rekindling the flames of determination within his troops. Or perhaps it struck some of them with fear? It was not always easy to tell. Not every Seaman was a brave soul, she had found, and sometimes even the most determined of individuals collapsed under the weight of warfare. Battle was a burden to bear, but not everyone was capable of it. That was why officers had subordinates, why commanders had executives, so that the workload may be shared out and thus the burden spread thin over the shoulders of an army's ranks. Fear could spread like wild fire, but a strong will and good leadership were more than enough to douse those flames. That was the very reason why Miss Conway herself remained so cool and icy, and why she deemed it necessary to think so thoroughly about every single event. If she didn't? Well, it could be a disaster, and then she would have to bear an altogether different burden. One whose weight could not be shared.

He took the bait? Or is he trying to use strength of numbers to overwhelm the wall? Uncertain of which it was that River was doing, the taciturn tactician continued to maintain her silence and observe. Suspicion pestered her thoughts, making her curious as to whether or not the Captain had seen through her ruse and was developing one of his own to counter such a plan. Shaking her head a little, she dismissed her worries as best as she could, focusing on the moment as the waves of men clashed and pressed against one another once more. The faintest smile crept onto her lips when she realised what was happening. This was what she had intended. The enemy forces were pushing and pushing, and the more they did so, the easier it became for the flanking walls of her own army to entrap them. The enemy was now sandwiched, leaving open the path to their false victory, while simultaneously allowing the Ensign to take action again.

"The three of you. With me. Now." Quickly she rattled out orders to the allies nearest her, the small group skirting around the sides and positioning behind the enemy force. Cautiously she checked around her, wary of her surroundings as she searched about for the familiar form of Captain Rutherford. Now was not the time for her to make a careless mistake, for she knew that if the enemy became aware of their movements, a collapse was inevitable. That would cost them the battle, and she could not allow that. Not now. She had to be quick. Locate and isolate the enemy commander. That was what she and her mobile unit needed to do, but where was he? Again she looked around, worried that her target may have charged into the fray as well. That was not the typical thing to do in situations such as these but, then again, this was not a typical situation at all.

And then it happened.

What does she think she is doing!? seethed the strategist, eyes finally settling upon her prey in time to witness what could only have been the most brazen attempt possible by her own forces. The familiar colours and patterns of her coat were now flying through the air, diving towards the CO with a leg extended. Anger filled her heart, burning inside of her like the flames of a furnace. This was not the plan. A single fool had gone against orders and was about to cost them the battle. Impatience? Overconfidence? Whatever it was, it was not intended. That was insubordination, even if this was little more than an exercise. If there was one thing she could not tolerate, it was seamen and women taking matters into their own hands without a proper assessment of the situation. There was nothing wrong with a well thought out tactical decision by a unit, but a single and inexperienced member of her force? No. She would not have it.

"Hmph!" Alexis huffed, glaring towards the young woman as she took a powerful punch to the jaw, knocking her out cold in a single blow. It served her right and, hopefully, would teach her a valuable lesson about her foolish and selfish act. However, the Ensign would still have a few choice words for her when she awoke from that forced slumber. For now, she needed to act quickly and capitalise upon the opening that had been given to her. Stepping forwards, the bitter blonde quickly shifted into a full on run, putting as much strength into her legs as she could. The sooner she got to him, the better, the training sword from the previous round of combat still in hand. As she drew closer, feet slamming against the hardened floor, she could see the Captain observing the woman he had felled. Though she could not see his face, it was obvious from the way his body moved that he had been taken by surprise, having not expected such a clever little trick as that.

As wrong as it was for her to take such matters into her own hands... I cannot believe that actually worked... Musing to herself about the unexpected success, Conway continued to charge forwards, drawing her blade in an arc as she neared the Captain's back. She could tell. He was caught up in the heat of the moment. Though it had not been the case on first meeting, in battle it seemed that this man was easier to read. At least, for her. Driving herself forwards with all the energy she could muster, her uncharacteristic assault was simply a matter of taking advantage of an obvious weakness. Letting out a strained and subconscious grunt, she took the swing, sending the dull edge of the blade towards her target's back.

It hit... But it didn't?

Logia! Immediately realisation swept over her like a wave, the blade connecting with Rutherford's body and yet failing to show much in terms of resistance. Instead, his body seemed to ripple and splutter as if she had batted a pool of water with an oar, casting out droplets of a strangely coloured fluid back in her direction. She reacted as quickly as her abilities would allow her, loosing her grip on the blade and tumbling back and to the side. Her skin turned stony grey again, hardening in composition as the spray struck out from the impact. Droplets showered her, and the floor around where she had just been standing, sizzling and bubbling as they ate away at the materials. Wood. Cloth. Steel. Stone.

A sharp intake of breath followed, the blade landing on the floor with a thud and clatter. Many sets of eyes turned to look, abandoning the battle around them. The dark-haired recruit lay, still unconscious. The Captain remained squatted and huddled. Alexis sat on the floor to his left, her sword not too far from her. The steel looked worn and aged. Not by much, but still a visible change had taken place as an unnatural acidity had tried to devour it. Numerous warps in the woodwork of the holding bay's floor indicated a similar fate had befallen it. But the Ensign had managed to, likely through a great degree of luck, avoid more serious harm. Her clothing, especially on her right, was marked with little burns where the chemicals had eaten through the cotton, Her cap laying on the floor had escaped the defence, but it now exposed the curved horns on her head, the same colour as her flesh. She clutched her right arm to her chest, peering down at it.

"Well, it seems I have avoided injury, thanks to my own capabilities." She said, casting a cold glare towards the man whose power could only be the control of an acidic substance. Logia were renowned for their unrivaled strength among the many types of Devil Fruit, but acid? Well, she had never encountered a power that was potentially so devastating as that. It worried her that, given his apparent tendencies to run on instinct, such a person as the Captain was not entirely capable of controlling his power. Had he been a Zoan or Paramecia, the situation would have been different, but this was different. Her rocky skin had been scalded, a few stray droplets having tried to dig into her body, but to no avail. A greater amount could have done irreversible damage, but as it stood the only thing worth noting was what would be a few light pock marks in her flesh - perhaps soreness - for a few days until it healed properly.

"Also," she continued, standing up as she let her skin turn to normal again, keeping only her right forearm hardened for fear that any lingering residue might be waiting for a chance to bite. "Captain Rutherford, sir. I believe victory goes to my forces..."

[Roin]

Izlanda had stirred slowly, having been knocked outright senseless from the punch moments before. The scene had been rather pitiful, but as the girl's eyes opened to slowly reveal the man over her and the just barely visible figure of Alexis, the young botanist figured she had truly been useful after all. There was no way to know how long it had been, but the soreness to a bruised chin and entire lower face made the girl from the North Blue chalk up that it was still rather recent. Alexis' words reached her fast enough to make the pain slightly more tense as a smile lit up Izlanda's face.

I did it... I helped us win...

The fighter closed her eyes once more, letting both an internal and external sigh out. All the same, the Marine wasn't moving for a few moments more at least. How hard had she been hit to feel this numb and weak from just one punch? Part of her wanted to think such power had come from trying to kill her... and that part was quickly silenced. It was well known to all of her family that most of the world didn't punch only when intending to kill someone... they simply punched whenever they saw it opportune. The fight was over, however, and since the man wasn't punching her... it meant it was just for the fight.

Before Izlanda could mentally begin to celebrate, however, there was a looseness that came only as the sensations returned to her face. The sensation that her band-aid was coming loose. In a panic, the young woman urged her hands to respond, shakily moving the gauntlets to cover the lower cheek that held her concealing band-aid. If it were to come off now, then there would be no way to hide her pirate-like birthmark! Surely after such a display, even if they won, Izlanda would lose any chance of getting in a group of people like this if her mark were to be shown.

"C...Can you... please let mwe down? I-I... nweed to fix my band-aiwd."

The girl blushed at the added "w" sounds to her speech, wishing the soreness was absent so the North Blue gal could talk properly. If she could talk, great... but now they'd hear her add on a ridiculous speech pattern like that!? What if she had lost a tooth and this was permanent!? Steadily, the girl paled and lost the blush, all the while trying to smooth the band-aid with her metal-covered fingers. And then, the little worrywart did the most dreaded thing she could... and ended up peeling the band-aid clean off and sent it falling to the floor. Due to River's hold, she couldn't quickly turn over and dive for it... which left the girl immediately slapping one gauntlet to her face. It was a terrible shield, but Izlanda couldn't think of any other way to hide it!

No no no... I need to get something to cover it! Please... please don't let them find out! They won't understand! Or maybe they will and they might judge me regardless of what I tell them! Please...

As the young Izlanda closed her eyes, the battle had no doubt begun to wind down... but it was likely the trio had created a scene. Firstly... Izlanda wore an officer's coat and was in River's arms. Secondly... the man was practically cradling the botanist in a protective manner that could quickly be mistaken for romantic. And the final big thing... was that even after getting hit and bringing and end to the fight, the officer was still doing so despite the fighter regaining consciousness. Safe to say, color began to return to the girl's face after the previous loss of it. If she was lucky, maybe rumors of this would keep the birthmark practically hidden!

[OOC: Sorry for it being short. Not a whole ton Izlanda can currently do @_@.]

[Aubs]

Gingerly, no cautiously River A. Rutherford released Izlanda, not even bothering to look at her faltering bandage. He was too upset with his costly mistake. Yes, in a sense this exercise was rigged. There was no way for him to lose as long as he had his devil fruit, but at the same time the greatest weakness of his abilities had become apparent. River had spent his career teaching his Marines, he had always been the first into the fray. Those days were done, he couldn’t fight like that anymore. Acid didn’t care if you were friend or foe, it would eat you alive nonetheless. One false move and he could have killed those around him, whether they had abilities of their own or not. Sighing to himself with these thoughts heavy on his shoulders the Captain rose to full height and turned rather slowly to face Alexis Conway and her strange silhouette.

She had a mixture of pain, presumable from the wound she sustained in attacking him, cold confidence in the fact that she believed she had passed the test, and above all else a hint of anger at the man who could kill her without even meaning to. Looking back at her River knew that Alexis was thinking what they both know knew; River was dangerous. Part of him was upset at his failure to contain himself. However, the greater part was happy that he had still not given up his humanity to his fruit. What need was there for a Logia to defend someone else with their body, what point was there for a being of destruction to care about a single life in his wake? Well River did, and that was ok with him. Luckily the young recruit now at his feet had not been injured, and for that he was grateful.

Their eyes met for a moment, the cold stare of Ms. Conway and the hard eyes of Captain Rutherford. In that moment the veteran gauged what he needed from her, and as his mind weighed and measured her…she was found wanting. River saw what she lacked, and that was enough for him. Immediately his hard eyes were matched with a frown, and he began his assessment allowed. “Yes, I believe you are right. But…” he said tilting his head to the side and wondering what her next reaction would be. “Not because of you. It was the sacrifices of your Soldiers that made you succeed.” Motioning down to the weakened Izlanda as he prepared for his next order. “Now you should start by taking your victorious Marine to the infirmary. We can speak on your return. Dismissed.”

The yelling started the second that River started to walk away. The evaluators were pulling those that had proven their worth to the side, while the other Marines were being placed into another formation. No one was quiet sure which of the two formations was which. The Executive Officer came to River’s side at that moment. he was understandable curious about the assessment of the new candidate. “So what’s the call?”

“No, not her. She has talent but no compassion Do me a favor; go get her file and give it to Barnes. I need him to find something that we can use to motivate her.” Still walking River turned his face to see Wilde looking back him in lock step, though he definitely seemed confused. Perhaps it was because Ms. Conway had shown a great deal of ability, or maybe it was because River had taken such an interest in making her work for the crew. Picking up his Justice Cloak in one smooth motion the veteran continued his march towards his office down a hallway not far from this training bay. “River, what is driving this search?”

“We both know the answer to that. You have been reassigned to HQ, it won’t be long before you have to leave the crew. If I can’t find your eventual replacement then the crew will be weaker for it. She has the most potential of the candidates I have seen. Hell I’m still short Platoon Leaders but if I can get one then perhaps we can get off the stupid rock.” Wilde turned on his heel and went to it, the unceremonious retreat probably because of embarrassment. Of course his commander would know he was being reassigned.

River took a moment to be the rock in the moving water of the training room. People were going to and fro while he stood starring out one of the bay windows for a moment. His mind moved through a few topics as he did, things occurring to him in moments and disappearing to him a flash later. Rutherford had never been called a smart man, nor did he pride himself on being one. Cunning was a much better word for him, savvy even, but not smart. Perhaps his betters could help him. But enough of that. Making a move towards his office the commander let his mind drift back towards the task at hand and not the intangible ones that bothered him.

As he opened the door to the makeshift office the first thing that became apparent was the summons document sitting on his desk. River snatched it and quickly skimmed, knowing what it meant. HQ had decided at last, they had been assigned a primary duty at last. His command had a task and purpose now. He had of course asked to remain on the Grand Line, but the higher ups had the final say it those matters. Teeth still clenched as “Hanzaki” waked back out into the bay and through the doors onto the cobblestone streets of Marineford. It would be a bit of a walk towards his commander’s office, but perhaps that would give him enough time to compose himself. To this day River did not like speaking to other officers. Most were…just not his type of people. Most things were Equal in this world, when you got to the heart of the matter, but Justice had never been.

Could he convince the Marines of that?

---

SPOILER: Click to show

[Vio]

There he stood, Captain Rutherford, staring into the icy hues of Alexis Conway. She could see the look in his eye, telling of sorrow and perhaps a hint of anger, likely at himself. He seemed, from the way he had acted in these last few moments, to dislike the fact that he possessed such a power. She understood exactly why that was and made no attempt to hide her understanding and opinions, cold gaze telling of her own distrust to the man that was her superior in perhaps all but strategy and control over their abilities. That said, the latter was a case of luck and practice, something that she knew could be altered and controlled if this man put his mind to it. But that was the last thing on her mind as she listened to his reply, silently seething at his choice of words.

You think I do not know that much? I am nothing without the aid of my soldiers! Alas, the Ensign's outburst was contained within her mind, not wishing to disrespect a man who was so blatantly caught up in his own shortcomings, especially not when that man was her superior officer. Instead she let silence stake its claim, stealing her voice away from her and drowning out all but River's orders. He was right on one thing. The recruit who currently lay on the ground was in need of medical attention, as was she. Fortune had smiled upon the girl with dark hair, sparing her from the scalding wrath of the very acid that tried to devour all in its path, and for that she had to be thankful. Despite the words of the Captain and the way she presented herself, Miss Conway was still the compassionate type. She would just rather express it in a different way, like an overly strict parent. The only way anyone would ever see that side of her was if they opened their eyes to it. That was the reason she always had to think things through and stay many steps ahead of the game. If her plans failed and her associates were injured - or worse - because of it, then she only had herself to blame. That was why she insisted on perfection and the following of orders, because she would never want to see what happens when the enemy succeeds.

"Yes, sir." That was her only response. Straight to the point. Beside her, the woman that currently wore her own coat was scrambling to fix the small plaster that clung to her cheek, almost as if it were important. Her eyes narrowed as she silently observed this act, curious as to why she would fuss over such a trivial thing when she had sustained a greater blow. Surely a small cut to the cheek was nothing in comparison to being punched in the jaw? Allowing her own still-hardened hand to fall to her flank, the devil-horned damsel turned to face the Seawoman, glaring at her as she managed to return the adhesive fabric to its rightful place upon her own face.

"I will assume you can stand and walk. Follow me." Coldly she executed her orders, waiting for the woman to stand again before beginning to escort her from the training room. Several sets of eyes were cast her way as men and women moved about like debris caught in the swirls and eddies of a river, all being deposited in their rightful places by the officers who had watched over this exercise. Alexis ignored it all, only taking the opportunity to loose her blonde locks from the collar of her borrowed shirt and allowing them to flow once more, revealing the intricate streaks of silver and strawberry as they caught the light. Out they went, following the wide cobble streets of Marineford's structure and headed towards the medical facilities that lay not too far from their current position. The heels of her boots clicked upon the even cobblestones, the only sound to pierce that unnerving silence which she reveled within. Silence was the only setting in which she could truly be at ease, but her mind was in turmoil as she considered the events that had recently unfolded.

"What you did was foolish. Taking matters into your own hands very nearly cost us a loss. Not only that, but you disobeyed my orders. That, recruit, is insubordination. That is a punishable offence that could cost you your rank and your status as a Marine. In an actual battle, such an act could likely have cost us more than just a few cuts and scrapes and bruises!" Her words were harsh as the icy gales of the North Blue, thrown towards the other girl like an avalanche that embodied the strict and disciplined style of the now-belligerent blonde. Quite simply, she was infuriated by the fact that someone would dare disrespect her. She was upset, but her cold exterior would not allow her to express such a thing so easily. To her last breath, she had said that she would not shed a tear for the lost. No use in crying, she had always told herself, and that was a philosophy she maintained. The energy to cry was better suited to becoming more efficient.

"However," Conway continued, her voice quietening as they neared the entrance to the infirmary. "I will not seek any attempt at punishing you for your decision. You did what you thought was right, and that much I respect. In future, however, I expect you to follow orders to the best of your ability. For the sake of your comrades. And, of course, for your own well being. Now. My coat, if you would please?"

Inside the infirmary, Alexis stood with her hand out and palm presented, awaiting the return of her customised Justice Coat. A prized possession of hers which combined aspects of the typical Justice Coat and the robe she once wore as a caretaker of the Grimnoire Libra. Memories were something even she would treasure, learning from past mistakes in order to better herself for the future. Hopefully she would be able to teach recruits such as this one about that concept, but she hoped more so that she would not need to do so...

[Roin]

Not only was Izlanda without her band-aid, but the man mentioned getting her to the infirmary after releasing her! While part of her wanted to demand an apology for assuming the woman so weak... well, the pain from before kicked up and one hand still had to keep the band-aid's secret covered.

And then the woman from before had begun to lead the way after ordering Izlanda along. The young botanist rose to her feet, keeping one hand over the mark the whole time. Why? Even after scooping up the band-aid... well, it wasn't sticking. It kept falling loose and forced her to keep it pressed the whole while with the gauntlet-covered hand. While the walk was short, it had inspired a rather... bad reaction from the escort. Izlanda had only enough time to look up before the officer had begun to yell at her. Being punched had warranted an apology... but there was no reason to demand one from the angered woman. Disobeying orders was something Izlanda knew warranted harsh action... the girl keeping the hand pushed to the cheek the whole time.

If we have to stall out time to risk the lives of more men and women, we surely aren't doing our job... the fact I found a faster way alone is proof of it.. right?

The girl was snapped out of her thoughts the moment Alexis began with the follow-up speech... and the result was Izlanda at last frowning. It wasn't at the forgiveness or anything of that sort... it was the last request. The female officer wanted her coat back... and to take off the coat, the gauntlet gal would need to lower her hand from the mark on her face. And the moment the frown started, so did she pale and ebgin to stutter.

"S-S-Surely it can wait, right? I-I really should get looked at first... that really hurt my jaw a-and..."

Before Izlanda could resume any sort of complaint, however, one of the infirmary's staff emerged to blink toward the two women.

"Excuse me, but if you're going to come in then please enter... otherwise, move away from here."

And with that, it was obvious how Izlanda lost the will to argue. Taking a long, shaky moment, the girl removed the coat from her form using the one arm that wasn't occupied... and looked quite awkward the whole while. The hand on her face didn't budge, despite the difficulty of removing the coat from a single side. But once it was hanging limp, however, the girl was faced with an issue of the other arm... and it made the martial artist appear quite goofy with the coat half on the ground and half-worn. Using the now free arm, Izlanda swapped the two hands and began to remove the coat properly. It was only with it fully off that she'd at last offer it to Alexis, lowering her head quickly in an apology.

"S-Sorry... it's just... I really need to hold my-"

The stop had been caused by a very... awkward sight. The girl's band-aid had slipped once more from the hand, zigging through the air almost in slow-motion for all of them to see. Only Izlanda's face, eyes practically bulging, could have explained the horrid nature of the moment... until the staff member walked close and quietly took the hand that had been holding it. In an effort to see what the band-aid had been covering for a medical reason, the staff member pulled the hand away and Izlanda immediately leveled her head. The botanist's face held a small, red outline of a skull-shaped fist... a natural birthmark that appeared more like a pirate's brand or something of the like. The medical officer blinked at first, but began to inspect the chin rather than the mark. It wasn't her concern, but the bruised chin certainly was.

"I-I-I... uh... y-y-your... coat... ma'am. S-Sorry for being a nuisance!"

The girl felt as if she were walking naked through the base, rather than standing there fully dressed. The mark wasn't much, but it was a mark shared between her siblings. Cormad, a pirate that had started up years ago, wore it on his fist in the form of a brand... and while Legix kept his mostly a secret, the very same birthmark that had basically grown from the size of her own to a little bit bigger over the years. It was a mark that identified her as the sibling of two pirates... though one had basically dropped off the map years ago and the other was only considered a pirate because of a misunderstanding! All the same... Izlanda could only hope that the strict woman would take the coat and not ask anything about it.

[Aubs]

The worst part of meeting with his boss was that he had to take off his hat. HQ didn’t take too kindly to River’s wear of the baseball cap. It was unbecoming of an officer to dress like a hoodlum. So, as the nearest command building appeared the newer Captain took off his cover and moved to the threshold. This was one of the auxiliary command building near the docks, but nowadays the old Marine HQ, which River still called HQ out of habit, was not nearly as active as it had been. Paradise wasn’t too bad all things considered, though River would not have agreed a few years ago when all he had to defend himself was a sawed off musket and his wits. Sometimes he missed it, the simplicity of fighting with his hands. But, from the moment he ate that fruit River knew that his life was about to change. He had been more correct than he would have even liked. How did the Admirals do it, control powers stronger than themselves without hurting those under themselves? Then again Admirals didn’t have crews to care for, they only existed to destroy. River was not sure that he was ready for all that just yet.

Thoughts flittering between that and Alexis the veteran passed into the paneled offices of the local assignments office. River didn’t even notice that there was no line to get into the nearest meeting room. Instead he stood there thinking to himself and starring at the mosaics on the wall. She was smarter than she had a right to be. That probably meant she thought she couldn’t be wrong. What worried River the most of the prospect of having someone who wouldn’t listen on his ship. River was not the smartest man and he knew it. However he could not have someone undermining him on the ship, even if she was perhaps the smartest Marine on the water.

And yet, somewhere deep down River already knew he had to have her on the crew. Her potential was boundless, and with the right mentorship she could be truly special. Behind those stone eyes and her strangely appealing face, there was a way to motivate her. Though, the prospect of dealing her did not sound satisfying at the moment. Just as a suitable method of challenging and growing his soon to be officer came to his mind however, a portly man who clearly outranked River waved him towards the close by conference room. Perhaps he had gotten tired of waiting on the Captain to enter.

The room had a very low table near the floor where it was customary to sit properly and speak over tea. River had never been much for this custom so he instead sat cross-legged and slightly hunched, starring at the other officer as he did so. Even today it was known that Captain Rutherford was a bit of a rebel. Who had ever decided that he should be granted a Devil Fruit and positioned to be fast-tracked to Captain had not only been foolish, but had either been fired or was in hiding to this day following that choice. Regardless though River now had one of the strongest fruits in the Fleet, and getting him to part with it would take killing one of their own. This new officer had not failed enough for that just yet, but the writing would be on the wall soon if he didn’t produce. In essence that is why this assignment had taken so long to be pushed through. There was nothing discreet about the demonic abilities of our friend here. One false move around him would get you killed, so just what could he provide to the Corps with skills like that?

---

“Reconnaissance huh?” was all he could muster as he walked down the street back towards the bay with his Soldiers still licking their wounds and training. Well it could be worse. River had been a in a recon element before, they weren’t terrible. Two main functions, one of which his men were well trained at. Not to brag, but River was fairly certain that he had the most capable landing crew on the Line. They had made their money securing landing zones for the White Hunters, and the skills had not left them. The other task however, the one about infiltrating islands and scouting it prior to invasion was not something they had trained for.

His mind running through many things, his left hand gripping a handful of packaged documents for departure, Captain Rutherford entered his bay. Without much trouble he spotted his XO, who began to walk with a sense of purpose towards his commander. The woman of the way, Alexis Conway wasn’t too far away either, having just arrived with her charge Ms. Izlanda. It had been an hour or so since the exercise ended, so most of the troops who had been selected were sitting around speaking softly. Before Wilde ever reached the Captain the order came out in River’s loudest voice.

“Mr. Wilde. We leave within the hour. Prepare the ship.”

Heads whipped around conversations faded. The attention of the fledgling crew all on its Captain. “If they are in this room, they are on the crew. Get the others from the barracks it’s time to go.” With a small nod and a smirk River handed Wilde the paperwork dictating what ship they could take.

"Aye sir."

Captain Rutherford on the other hand just walked in the direction of his office. The yelling and screaming would come shortly as the veterans whipped up the youngsters for their maiden voyage.

It was time at last…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

[Vio]

"S-surely it can wait, right?" A curious nervousness present in the recruit was certainly an intriguing thing, but Alexis Conway was certainly not in the mood to deal with such matters. She wanted her coat back. That was that. Silently and with cold eyes she stared at Izlanda, awaiting the presentation of her robe. There was nothing she could do to argue, even more so when one of the medical staff emerged, forcing the dark-haired woman into removing the object from her person in the most awkward fashion imaginable. Honestly, what was so important about a small plaster on one's face that it would need to be held there? If she had thin blood, then that medical condition alone would have shattered her chances of joining the Marines. It was far too much of a risk. Even so, this was becoming a tedious wait - embarrassing even - that was actually making the Ensign feel more and more flustered. Yes, this recruit had potential, but her mannerisms were more than a handful to deal with.

"Thank you." Finally accepting the coat, the icy woman held her tongue for now, deciding it best to see to her own little injuries that marked her still stone-hard hand. For now, putting on the garment was not worth the trouble, so Miss Conway opted to leave the recruit behind with the staff member seeing to her injuries. Into the infirmary she walked, coat rolled neatly over her one arm as she approached one of the nurses to enquire about her wounds, or lack thereof. All the while she pondered about the possibilities. Had she made it onto the crew? It was unnerving. Oddly enough, she did not want to be sent back to the North Blue. To be put under the command of some average Captain and forced to do all she could just to make ends meet. She hated it. There were some benefits to being there, but they were minor. Always the devil-horned damsel had strived to rise through the ranks, but now she had hit a dead end. Becoming part of a more prevalent force, an actual task force, was what she desired. After all, her ultimate goal sat in the farthest and most treacherous reaches of the New World...

~~~~~

I suppose I worry too much about the consequences of other peoples' actions... And not enough about my own... Nearly an hour had passed by since the training exercise had come to its abrupt end, Miss Conway now having entered the room once more with the wounded recruit in tow. Their wounds had been tended to swiftly, with the Ensign's own injuries requiring little more than a good wash in soapy water. Now both hands were pale and normal, her arms bare once more thanks to the sleeveless nature of her blouse and coat and horns concealed beneath the fur-lined hood. Usually she was very much self-conscious about what others thought of the grey protrusions, but here in Marineford very few seemed to care. It was almost as if she were just a normal woman. But she was not. Neither was Izlanda. As the two women approached, she turned to her underling and met her eye, a curious and more gentle look present in those frosty hues.

"That mark on your cheek. I suppose I can understand why you hide it. However, you are not a pirate - you are a Marine - and no mark should say otherwise. Understood? Hide it if you wish, but it will only hold you back." Attempting to seem less cold and more forgiving, perhaps more inspiring, the girl from Grimnoire held her stare for a moment or two before turning away and continuing towards the gathering of other men and women. It was odd, but it was almost painful for her to say those words, silently cursing herself. Not because she felt she had done wrong, but because her own words had reminded her of past events. Captain Morse, practically on his own death bed, had said a similar thing to her. That was before she had become a marine. But still, after the years that had passed, she had yet to heed his wishes...

'You can hold back the tears if you want... But, you'll only hold yourself back while doing so...'

'I will not shed a tear for the lost.'

'Oh? Then what will you do?'

'I will... Learn whatever there is to learn. Knowledge is power.'

'...And what will you do with that knowledge?'

'I... That I do not know...'

'Do you hate pirates? For what they've done and what they continue to do?'

'Yes.'

'Then become a Marine, and put that knowledge to good use.'

'No.'

'Nothing I can say will change your mind, will it? Well. Just remember this... Sometimes... Sometimes it's okay to cry...'

"Mr. Wilde!" The shout of Captain Rutherford snapping her from one of her most vivid memories, Alexis turned to face the man in charge, as did everyone else in the room. Countless pairs of eyes settled upon him as he walked through, giving the order to his XO; and a great order it was. It seemed a simple enough thing. All those sitting or standing in the training room were to join the crew, regardless, but all of them had at least proven their abilities in one way or another. That included the Ensign. The uncertainty she had possessed was washed away, the frown upon her face turning to the briefest glimpse of a smile before a stern and neutral expression took hold. This was it. That said, she did not know what 'it' actually was. What kind of task force was this unit to become? Well, it did not concern her too much. As long as she was not cooped up in a base waiting for her unit to be called upon to deal with minor pirate or Revolutionary incursions, she would be happy with whatever she was to become a part of.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeey! Leeeeeeeeeex~!" Another shout filled the air, this one certainly a more cheerful one, but one that did not imbue the target with the same kind of energy. In fact, Miss Conway actually froze for a moment, a look of shock taking over from her previously stern and confident look. She knew that voice. It was a voice that should not be heard here at all. Other eyes turned to see the source. A young girl no older than her mid teens, blonde hair a mix of silver and strawberry shaped into a bowl cut fell about her fair face and accented wide eyes of warm sapphire. She was dressed in a white short-sleeved shirt and deep blue trousers, a wrap of blue fabric - like the scarves worn recruits - positioned around her collar, all finished with a pair of black boots. The most distinctive feature, however, were the two grey protrusions that peeked through her fringe where crown met forehead. A typical chore girl, still, though in her hands she carried a steel pole no longer than than a medium-sized sword, blue wrapping about its midsection.

"Enid! What, pray tell, do you think you are doing here?" Facing about, the Ensign's eyes stared daggers towards the younger girl, but that usual spine-chilling gaze seemed to be soaked up entirely by the blue hues of her younger sister as the two strode forward to meet each other. One a strict march, the other a light jog...

[Roin]

While the short stay at the infirmary hadn't changed the looks of Miss Conway , the Seaman Recruit behind her carried quite an interesting look. A large bandage was covering the bruise and keeping her chin tucked away, Izlanda otherwise untouched. Even with the Ensign's words of comfort, the girl didn't dare remove the band-aid. While it was probably true, there were plenty of Marines who weren't so understanding. The world was big, the tales of her mother's time with the Marines had scared the botanist to a great deal of nervousness around others...

"I-I appreciate the advice... it's j-just, the few who find out might not-"

The girl was cut off as the interaction between the two picked up, entirely confusing Izlanda. Unlike the pair that had greeted one another in such away, the Lyneel Fist-Fighter hadn't been able to act like that with her brothers. Legix had either been working on ships and eating squash, while Cormad had been focused on cooking and rebelling against "the system" the island had. Both of the older brothers had more or less only helped Izlanda on the idea that she was their sister... not once had they taken the time to share much interest in Izlanda's presence. So as the older woman questioned the chore girl, the gauntlet gal quietly turned her focus toward the rest of the events.

From the words shared between the officers, the loudest of which had been identified as the one who hit her, the word was that they were to board and were now part of the crew. It was almost pirate-like in nature... and the idea of that brought a smile to the good-hearted girl. Navigating and botany were fun... but perhaps a more lax group was what she needed. The boys of the Morre trio had gone on to become pirates... so maybe their carefree nature was something that could be found in the Marines. If that was the case... then Izlanda could possibly redeem and get them to fight for the Marines!

I-I have to be strong! I have to learn and sail with other Marines if I ever want to understand why my brothers ran off... and to ensure I'm just as good as she was!

With the mental declaration made, the frail rumbler turned her attention at last to the sisters... or at least she had made up her mind that they were.

"M-M-Miss Conway, perhaps we should get going! I-I know you would like to catch up, ma'am, b-but it seems like the bunch is set on l-leaving. And I know you're busy, b-but... uh..."

The navigating-botanist began to fumble with her own collection of things, the belt around her waist shaking with tools and papers. Returning from the medbay had more or less allowed Izlanda to recover the tools of her trade. There wasn't much worry it'd be shaken in battle, as initially thought... so why leave it? At last, however, the girl pulled free book... and offered it toward the pair, but specifically toward the woman who had offered her advice moments before.

"I-I'm trying... t-to write a log on plants. I would be honored if you could help me with it, even if it's just reading it! I know it's sudden, b-but you're... um... one of the first marines who hasn't... reacted badly at discovering my... you know..."

[Aubs]

Before he was able to escape the controlled chaos of the bay, Captain River heard a strangely high pitch yell that all but forced him to stop and turn around. Not far away from him were the precise pair that he had been concerned with on his walk. Alexis Conway, and a girl he thought was named Izlanda. Truthfully he had not learned her name yet, but she was without question coming with the crew, she had a role to play the Captain just knew it. Silently standing in the corner was an old technique used by commanders. When the boss was away the Soldiers talked, it was common knowledge. If you just listened, your troops would surprise you.
And surprised River was.

Whatever Alexis had done to Izlanda had apparently won the ensign some respect. But even as the pair exchanged a book between them, the more interesting addition to the talk was the small girl who looked strikingly like Ms. Conway. Without warning the smaller girl leapt into a bear hug of Alexis, who looked somewhere between angry and heart-warmed. Who was this girl, by the looks of it she could have only been…yes. Alexis had a little sister; that much was plain now. Whether or not Lady Stoneheart wanted to show her softer side or not, she was about to. All the while River quietly leaned against the back wall watching exactly what he had wanted to see. Not only had the cold woman who had so concerned him earned some trust from her Marines, but someone to motivate her into compassion had fallen into River’s lap. It took some effort to wipe the smirk off his face, but once River was able to do just that he began his walk not towards his office again but towards the small collection of girls.

It was rather rude of him to interrupt the meeting of the sisters but Rutherford had waited long enough he thought. If things went according to his hastily made plan then it wouldn’t matter anyway. He spoke rather softly, but River was close enough to be heard by the trust of girls. The lower ranking ones became very tense as the Captain stepped into the middle of their pack and addressed his newest officer.

“When you are done catching up Conway, come to my office. We have much to discuss on your new position.” Tilting his head slightly, for the first time River showed some sincerity in addressing Alexis. His demeanor was completely different from earlier, perhaps it was the prospect of leaving, but more likely than that it was just the satisfaction that comes from getting everything you want all at once. He wasn’t all that much taller than Alexis so there wasn’t any intimidation in his appearance, some would say that her horns were more impressive than River’s green eyes and rugged face. But right now, there was only a calm veteran happy to have seen good leadership develop before his eyes.

“You two, don’t stay long, you have to prep our ship for departure. Make sure you have all your things, we won’t be coming back for them.”

With that River turned on his heel and began walking away again. How fortuitous that Alexis had a younger sister in the Marines, and how lucky for him that quality Marines had happened upon his crew on the day of his departure. Assuredly this particular group would have a bit more conversing to do, but the crew veterans would get them working soon enough. Unmolested by the need to prep the ship, one of the few perks of being the commander, River made for his office. Solemnly he began to place his notes into folders even as the other administrators packed the rest of the office up.

In the crystal clear water of Old Marineford his ship was being rowed towards the dock directly in front of the training bay. Crates of supplies would be being stacked, weapons piled and lines being made of Marines. The ship the nameless crew left with would not be theirs for long, HQ didn’t hold the fleet only the guidon. They would have to requisition a ship at a nearby base, but at least they wouldn’t be stuck here anymore. Outside of the offices that littered these streets the sun was floating towards the end of its run for the day. A full day of working and waiting was coming to an end, even if the crew left tonight though they would be full of energy.

The prospect of Justice would keep each of them awake, it always did. It occurred to the new Captain as he tossed a single satchel of his most precious things on his back, that the crew would need a name. Without one they wouldn’t be respectable, nor would the enlisted men and woman have something to inspire them. River didn’t much think that a funny play on his name would benefit anyone like it had his mentor. Perhaps the crew would come up with their own name.

Yeah, that might be something special after all.

For many of the crew, this was their last chance to start over. Danger would following them after they left these walls.

But really, would Marines have it any other way?

---

SPOILER: Click to show

SPOILER: Click to show

I will bow out at this point. Please feel free to wrap up the round. Can't wait for the next thread when I get back!

[Vio]

"I brought your stick!" Chirped Enid Conway, offering forth the peculiar steel pole that her older sister had chosen as her personal weapon. Not a woman who relied upon blade or spear, Alexis Conway preferred to adopt a much more defensive style of fighting, and this piece of steel - known as Járn Stafur - was one of the keys to that combat practise. Indeed, the Ensign's efforts in the North Blue had seen this staff suffer numerous notches and scratches when met with the steel of sharper tools of warfare, forcing her to leave it for some repairs. Those reparations had been completed and thus the younger of the girls had returned the weapon to its rightful owner, but Enid still had yet to answer the much more pressing question presented to her.

"Hmph. Thank you. But you have not answered my ques- tion?" No sooner had the stern blonde taken her staff into her own hands, than her sister had forced herself upon her; with a bouncy step, Enid wrapped her arms about the far more disciplined Marine, locking her in a bear hug that defined their sisterly love of one another. This was an act that rarely happened between them. In fact, the last time they had shared a hug like this - to the best of the archivist's knowledge - was years ago, back when the remnants of the Conway family had been reunited after the defeat of the Dark Hunt. The action itself brought back painful memories of that night, to which the officer responded by returning the warm embrace. The words of Captain Morse echoed quietly in the back of her mind, jumbled amidst the memories that currently rattled in her skull like a storm at sea, and yet those words were as clear as the sky following it. But still, Alexis did not shed a tear. Crying was a sign of weakness; meaningless tears for lives long since lost. How many times did she have to tell herself this? Well, far more often than she would have liked to.

"I... I wanted to stay with you... I want to be a Marine, like you..." Her little sister whimpering words into her ear as their hug started to loosen, the devil-horned damsel could not help but let out a soft sigh. She already knew this goal of Enid's well enough, but she was strangely torn between sororal sympathy and professional protectiveness. At first she saw this as a weakness in her own abilities, incapable of deciding upon what should have been a simple matter, but that self-loathing seemed to fade away as she juggled the possibilities and tried to reason with herself. That was even harder to do.

"I understand..." The younger of the two Conway's did not need to say how she had come to Marineford, that much was apparent enough; clever and deceitful despite her otherwise innocent appeal, the blonde with the bowl cut was far more adept than even her wiser and more knowledgeable sibling at exploiting loopholes. Clearly she was not here officially, or at least not in the sense that she had been asked to come to the former base of operations of the World Navy. Instead, the only explanation that the Ensign could think of was that Enid had conned her way into making her movements official, thus avoiding any consequences that could possibly have befallen her. To what extent she had gone in order to achieve the ends would likely pester the mind of Miss Conway until the younger miss finally spilled the beans, but now her own hands had been forced.

"As for your log, Recruit, I would be more than happy to read it," she said, accepting the book from the hands of the young woman with dark hair. It was a simple book, nothing fancy, but it was not the cover of a book that made it valuable, but the knowledge contained within its pages. She recalled the sections of the Grimnoire Libra devoted to the storage and preservation of botanical knowledge. And then she spoke again. "I honestly do not have a specified interest, as you seem to do, save for Justice. However, I do enjoy reading - and learning - a great deal. Back on the island I come from, we had several hundred books like this one. None of them were complete, however, and they have long since been lost."

"When you are done catching up, Conway," spoke the Captain, appearing seemingly out of nowhere simply through virtue of the officer's senses being inhibited by thoughts and considerations. That and he walked a surprisingly quiet step. Icy hues turned to meet the man's own eyes, immediately spotting the difference in his usual demeanour. Before he had seemed almost ghostly, present but not so. Now his very being seemed to radiate an air of anticipation, driven by nothing more than whatever he was currently satisfied with, but that much she could not place. Rutherford was by no means the most easily readable of men, but his current characteristics said all that she needed to know. As did his words, filled with honesty. Unbeknownst to the fair female, the present look of surprise on her face quickly shaped itself into a joyful (albeit very subtle) smile. Her new CO seemed almost glad to have her in his midst, but nothing was set in stone as of yet. She would find out soon enough what was to become of her and, hopefully, of Enid as well.

I can never seem to understand Captain Rutherford's intentions, but I suppose that is for the best. I have only met him today, after all, so it could simply be that I am trying to make judgments too quickly. Beyond his status - both as a Captain and as the consumer of a Logia class Devil Fruit - he seems almost... Silently assessing him as he walked away, Ensign Conway turned to look at her sister, seeing the bright smile upon her face. The look in her own blue hues said it all. For the first time since the destruction of their home, Enid had witnessed an honest smile form upon her sister's face. Not one of sly determination or of cunning calculation, but of sincere satisfaction. Of course, that smile quickly faded, but the younger sibling's did not.

"It appears you are part of this crew now, as well," Alexis commented quietly, meeting the eyes of her sister who replied with a cheery salute. Then she turned to Izlanda before addressing her, handing back the botanist's book. "Look after this for now. I will help where and when I can, but for now you must help ready the ship for departure. Good luck, Recruit... That means you have to help as well, Enid..."

[Roin]

The idea that someone hadn't found a passion in life was strange, but Izlanda didn't dare speak such words when the woman spoke about reading the log. It was similar to what the woman said... specifically that very little to any knowledge of botany existed back home. It was more or less "hand-to-mouth" and family secrets of growing vegetables on farms. It had been a long time for the girl to accumulate just the basics of information on the various plants grown by the Marines to make standard medicines. The fact that there were supposedly mythical plants that could do crazy things made her search even more difficult. However, the interruption from Rutherford's voice snapped Izlanda out of the silence, quickly snapping into a salute at the words.

It's a good thing I brought my gauntlets and botany logs! I'll just make sure to get on and- wait, my clothes!

The girl kept the panic hidden, quickly giving a brief hop of inner fear that Miss Alexis had heard. However, the woman instead offered the log back with a statement to read it where and when she could. One more hop and reassurance of the salute came before Izlanda reached out and recovered the book as if it were her first child. In a flash, the thing was tucked right back onto the belt... Izlanda quietly moving a hand to smack her band-aid cheek. It was one to both break the momentary silence as well as to ensure the mark-covering tool was in place.

"I-I need to run and get my clothes real quick, but I'll return and get right to work! I-I won't allow myself to be useless as a Marine!"

Turning on the spot and dashing off, Izlanda's athleticism was evident in both long stride and speed. How often had she physically trained with her mother back home, always trying to be the best when it came to her agility? Where her brothers were strong and skilled with their hands, she was clumsy... but took after her mother as a Marine of decent caliber. Sneakers crashing against the ground, the girl darted between patrolling groups, over crates, and even went barreling through an outdoor mess-hall. The jeers and complaints following her path weren't of destruction, but that the girl had passed without saying a word.

Izlanda had always been chasing after an idea to become a Marine... and if her brothers were both pirates and she was finally a Marine... the girl had to pursue her hopes and dreams. One hand idly went to smack the top of the book to ensure its presence... just in time for a big grin to come to the Seaman Recruit's face. Of the Morre Siblings, Izlanda had always been weak... but as she entered the barracks, stuffing her things into a travel bag, the girl could only think that all the work had paid off. Captain Rutherford was known mostly through the bit of whispers and the idle chat the nurses told her... but the man had protected her. It had been awkward, but the man was strong enough that even Alexis, a woman who was certainly stronger than Izlanda and of a higher rank to boot, hadn't been able to hurt him. Regardless, she quickly recovered the pack and threw it over her shoulder, the aspiring botanist rushing forward once again.

The ship would need to be ready soon and no doubt set sail after that... and they were all supposed to be on it. Even the weapon-squeamish gal from a rowdy family was supposed to join the voyage!