C.H.I.M.E.R.A. Corps. Rest & Revelations!

[Vio]

Little more than a couple of days had passed since the C.H.I.M.E.R.A Corps had returned to G-6 of the Lanza Island Chain, having returned from their first official assault upon the island known as the Pirate's Market. Since then, little had really happened, the hundred or so individuals that formed the ranks of the crew having simply passed the time as they awaited new orders from upon high. Warrant Officer Mari Anette was no exception to that rule, though she had at least made use of the time provided in as many ways as she could. After all, she really disliked doing nothing, always able to fill the time one way or another. Stricken by a rather powerful instance of the common cold, the girl had suffered for several says before finally managing to shrug off the illness, partly thanks to the scientific expertise of Flynn Toctic. But there was no cure for the cold, only ways to help lessen the impact it had. Still, she was healthy again, having recently been investing a lot of her time into crafting the latest member of her own team; the durable shield-bearing marionette known as Teak.

I'll finish you soon enough, Teak, but you keep wearing down the blade... Currently, the cherry blossom-haired girl sat in the mess hall - Mahogani by her side as per usual - enjoying her lunchtime meal. A dish of steam-cooked rice with chicken fillets, drizzled in a hot and spicy sauce, and accompanied by a couple of bread rolls. Nothing too fancy, but certainly a delicious meal that she was enjoying, even if the chef had been rather worried about her choices. Still, the young marine was quite content sitting in silence, still getting used to the adjustments made to her uniform by the rather thrifty Ensign Alyss Shuman. What was formerly a standard uniform was now looking somewhat more attractive and unique, conforming to her body, but not so much as to make her feel embarrassed or overly self-conscious. A white shirt with short sleeves, banded with elastic at the cuffs to hold to her upper arms, was marked upon the back by the vivid seagull insignia of the World Government's chief military force, and upon the shoulders and arms with coloured stripes. Typical blue trousers were replaced with jeans of that were not too baggy, yet allowed her skin to breathe, similar in design to the dungarees she would usually be clad in. Black boots were instead replaced with white ones, while her neck was adorned with a small scarf much like those worn by the seamen. Of course, as similar as it seemed to the standard marine uniforms, there was one important thing to differentiate her from the rest. All the blue was instead pink: the jeans, the shoulders, the scarf and even the seagull.

"Hey, Leshy! Is it true she punched a pirate into the ground with that huge doll?" asked an unfamiliar voice, the deep and rough rumble of a burly CPO who sat on the same table as both the Warrant Officer and her own subordinate. Indeed, the gentleman seemed to have directed his question towards Brennan Lesovik, the second-in-command of the teenager's fire-team who wore an impressively wild tangle of brown hair on his face. Tensing slightly at the fact that she had become the topic of a conversation she was not a part of, Mari nervously cast a glance across the table towards the calm fellow with blue-green eyes, a confident smile upon his face. If only she had that sort of capability as a leader.

"Yes, it's true. Warrant Officer Anette is quite a capable girl when she's pulling the strings." His response smooth and light, one could tell that Mister Lesovik was quite at home with his comrades, both subordinate and superior. And yet, by order of the Captain, he was to listen to her every order. Of course, the mousy maiden trusted him with any task, much preferring to listen to the advice he had to give her than trying to boss him around. Sometimes it made her wonder whether or not she really deserved the rank she had been given. Technically, she was not even eligible to be a soldier due to age constraints, but that had not stopped HQ from recognising her talents. It seemed the military was valuing strength and potential a lot more these days, though she did not understand what the reason behind that was. All she knew, all she cared for, was the fact that she was following in the footsteps of her grandfather.

"Heh. Can I try some of that?" Mari froze, her fork halfway between carrying a small piece of chicken from her plate to her mouth. Rosé hues glanced up and to her left, the large man now having turned his attentions from her CPO and to the young woman herself. All of a sudden, she felt rather small, eyes shifting to Brennan for signs of support. He took note of the look on her face, responding to her unasked question with a smile. Somehow, it boosted the youth's confidence, allowing her to to relax somewhat and speak quiet words. It was not that the unknown man was intimidating, though his size seemed to say so. More so the fact thatshe was a shy girl by nature, feeling uncomfortable when any sort of pressure was placed upon her and her alone. In her mind, she shook her head, telling herself not to think like that. She was never alone.

"Um. Sure... B-but it's spicy..." A fair warning given, even if the environment itself had enough ambient noise to drown out the sound of her own voice in her ears, but she was certain the CPO had heard it. Slowly, she twisted the fork in her hand and offered the grip to him, making sure to keep the smothered sliver of poultry held over the dish to avoid the sauce from dripping onto the table. Sure enough, the burly fellow accepted it with a grin.

"Thanks. Don't worry, though. I'm sure I can handle it if you can!" In what she supposed to be 'manly' fashion, the male marine took the chicken into his mouth, his jaws making quick work of the delicate serving before he swallowed it down. For a moment, he seemed to raise an eyebrow as if curious as to the flavour, but what was one raised brow soon turned to two. In an impressive and startling display of speed, the gentleman dropped the fork upon the table and hopped out of his seat, coughing wildly and fanning his gaping maw in a frenzy with both hands. Again, she felt rather small, this time out of a strange sense of failure. The pallid puppeteer had tried to warn him of the fiery flavour, one which she seemed to be able to take with no trouble, but he had not listened. He reached for a glass of water. Eyes widened as she realised yet another mistake on the man's behalf, shakily raising a hand in protest, but otherwise failing to sputter out any words of warning. Others watched, some giggled, one or two on the next table stared at her with shock.

"Hoth! Hoth! Wahta! Wahta! ...GAAAAHAARGH!" Now hopping frantically on the spot, innumerable pairs of eyes drawn to the commotion, the apparently tough-looking titan now seemed not-so-tough in comparison to the teenage girl. Miss Anette was, quite frankly, concerned. Beside her, Mahogani's head bowed slightly in disappointment. This was certainly turning out to be an interesting day already, it seemed. Certainly not what the puppeteer in pink had expected. All of a sudden, she was not so hungry as before, averting her eyes from the table and looking towards her carven comrade. The puppet seemed to sit there quite contently, an uneaten bread roll sitting on the table before her, level with unblinking amber eyes.

I wish you really could talk back to me, Mahogani... I'd love to hear your own voice... Smiling softly at the regal redwood, Mari gently brushed the wooden woman's arm with the backs of her fingers, feeling the smooth and cool surface of the evenly lacquered wood that formed her. It was unusual that a marionette so familiar to her, one that was intertwined with nearly every memory she had, could also be so mysterious. The richly coloured body, the soft sheen of the wood from whence she had been born. The vivid lavender linen of the saya at her side, the bright red cord for luck. Of course, the most immaculate of features was her face; painted a pure white with traces of rose red blush upon the cheeks, accented by those fiery amber eyes. So finely crafted, and yet so enigmatic. Mahogani. Hickori. Eboni. What was so special about these three marionettes that had earned the collective title of the 'Masquerades'? Where were the other two of the set? These were questions that had remained prevalent in her mind since she first laid eyes upon that old photograph. A chill ran down her spine. Did she really want to know the answers?

I guess we should go back to the others? Slipping from her seat, the cautious carpenter took up Mahogani in her arms, making sure to pick up the bread roll as well and holding it in her mouth as she left the scene. Indeed, she tried to steer clear of getting too involved with the strange goings on about her. The one marine was now being carried off on a stretcher by a couple of medics, his mouth practically smoking and body twitching, while another pair of officials across the hall spoke to one of the chefs. Out of the mess hall she went, steadily following the halls of the mountainous fortress back towards the large courtyard that sat between facilities. She had to admit, this was the only route she felt safe about taking, the entirety of the base seeming like a gargantuan labyrinth of laboratories and other such buildings, ninety percent of which were built into the rock itself...

~~~~~

Meanwhile, the towering form of Vice Admiral Wermengard sat at his new desk, awaiting the arrival of Captain Toctic. The look on his face was rather atypical of the man himself, showing a strange concern as he looked down at an assortment of files spread out unevenly upon his desk. A lot had happened in recent weeks, too much for any one man to keep track of, but the news was generally rather mixed. In particular, he wished to discuss these things with the silver-haired cyborg, part out of necessity, but also out of worry. Deep, dark eyes swept across the open folder before him, reading the name again and again in his mind until he actually started to whisper it under his breath. Quite simply, the normally fearless fellow was a little hesitant. There was good news, most definitely, but there was also plenty of bad news to dish out as well.

"Gepetto. I can't believe just how divided your family's become," he muttered to himself, flipping closed two open documents with his hand before clenching his fist and closing his eyes. He very nearly slammed his fist into the desk, but the mustachioed man managed to restrain himself before doing so. Instead he opened his eyes and, in his deep and booming voice, he said; "Hurry up, boyo! I haven't got all day!"

SPOILER: Click to show

Mari Anette (ff55ff)
Brennan Lesovik (55ffff)
Wermengard (ff5500)

[Roin]

While there were many people walking and dining, there was two figures that had so far stayed mostly out of the way... and one of them was Egon Wahrheit. The trip here had been somewhat cramped, the man more or less lacking a lot of his clothes for a short while. They'd also taken the only person the man wanted to interrogate away to get her cleared.

Now, as the man stood in one of the firing ranges linked to the tech labs... the brainy gal was holding a clipboard with a big grin on her face. Ida had more or less been brought on as a potential tech-head for their saviors... and the big-wrench gal had moved to quickly smirk at the occupied cyborg.

"Almost ready, Eggy? The boys and girls in the lab are doubtful that this model will work!" "Tsk... not like that matters! Truthfully, they allowed me the materials!" "Eggy, that's not good manners! You've already been through enough cybernetic wiring the last few days to operate a whole cyborg!"

The steam-powered man simply grumbled, a roll of the eyes making the woman puff out her cheeks while Egon closed a panel on a new arm... one that had been the source of the argument. After arriving, the man had more or less been allowed to work in the lab with extra resources... but they'd not been very fond of the idea of an experimental weapon being in that arm. The first version that Egon had built fried during the test... this one had passed the powering-up. The second version had blown off after not properly syncing with the lockjoint on the cyborg's stub... and this one would be taking that test now.

Ida eyed the arm, taking a few steps back as the large Marine took the arm in his human grasp. It was heavy... a far more bulky and combat-ready variant than the Professor's pristine and civilian-based model. Taking time to cast a look to Ida, the truthful swordsman connected the arm... and the silence picked up in the range remarkably fast. The weight of the arm was instantly noticed... but the whirl of the experimental tech linking with the test-mode joint made it clear that it was proceeding with the link procedure. The soft click-click-click-click sounded just audible for Egon... the man smirking at the idea that it had made it this far... which meant it was proving as successful as the second version... but the true test was now.

"Vapor Link... now!"

The silence was shattered, the steam tubes aligning and opening. One moment, Egon was standing perfectly visible for all the onlookers and the nearby Ida... and the next, a cloud of steam erupted with such force that Ida jumped back. The loud bang that followed made the woman fearful... but nothing came flying out of the steam like last time. Miss Kare was holding her breath... and at last smiled real big to the sight that brought claps from the spectators viewing through nearby glass.

Standing in a combat stance, the cyborg Marine's new arm was hissing and popping, the cylinders aligning and properly pumping as they received their first burst of heated vapor. Once they'd adjusted to handle Egon's steam circulation... the cloud had no doubt receded and the metal limb had powered on. No one but Egon could tell... but the man's laugh cutting the room made it clear.

"Hahaha! It feels almost as light as the old one!"

The egghead gal started writing as fast as she could, making "Ooooh" and "Aaaaaah" faces as the Marine began to raise the arm, shadowboxing and performing basic motions with the limb. While it felt similar... the power in the new limb was something that was clear. The heavier steel, the more combat-sturdy design... all of it made for an arm that fit the goal Egon had aimed for. The only thing now... was to test it. With one arm moving to the shoulder, a quick motion aligned the arm and aimed the hand toward the range... and with a push, the arm locked together. The entire thing seemed to slide and lock... and when it was done, it resembled more of a cannon than an arm!

A set of targets came up... and once they were, the Cyborg idly opened a panel atop the shoulder, revealing the empty chamber. Normally, the arm would be preloaded... but Egon couldn't have done that without making it a potential death-strap. So, with care, Ida made her way over with one of the larger rounds, a bunch of them now in the crook of one arm while the other held the clipboard. At his side, the woman deposited the note-taking tool and lifted one of the large rounds. The woman didn't even wait for an okay... lining up the bullet and giving it a good knock of both hands to drop it through the doorway. One design flaw... had been that the man wasn't good at designing doors for the weapon.

"Eggy, you should really test the hand, first..." "... I had truthfully forgot about the hand! Godd call, Ida!"

Ida was stunned, but gave an eek and jump as Egon's mental link triggered the purudake. Extending forward, the limb gained additional length... and the cylinder within the Purudake made it clear that it was equally capable of firing in this manner. A smirk came to Egon's face... but as the first target came up, the focus changed to taking the shot. And boy, did Ida jump and curse as the man's shoulder fired, steam hissing out from the doorway just as it was closed.

The entire arm felt like it jerked, Egon registering the recoil as the bullet hissed out of the hand, steam erupting out from the metal palm. The closest target gave a heavy thud-like noise... and the target fell back. It was rather close... but the force meant that a close-range shot on the average pirate and marine would have hurt enough to drop 'em.

"Hah! It wor- Ow!"

Ida was now hitting Egon with one arm, a blush and look of pure anger on her face. It was clear the woman wasn't pleased about Egon's rush to testfire the weapon... and the spectators would be more than capable of hearing her even through the glass, the whole range booming with her voice. Idiot, buffoon, and hothead were among the lengthy speech... but as it ended, Egon could only grumble and pull the arm back. The test was a success... but Ida had sapped all the fun out with being such a sour sport. There would no doubt be a bit of talk that the man had designed a functional arm with a weapon over the course of a few days... but none of it was too shockingly high-tech. It was like fitting a powerful potato gun into an arm!

"Ida, go ahead and load more bullets... I want to keep firing so I can calibrate it!" "I'm not your maid, Eggy!" "Well, you-... wait, did you just call me Eggy again!?" "Ughhhh! You're just as much an airhead as you're powered by air! Steam must make you a hotheaded idiot buffoon! I've called you Eggy all day!" "Whaaaa!? Why the hell are you calling me Eggy!? My name is E! G! O! N! Eeeeegooooooon!"

And so... the success and completion of the man's arm in a working fashion... had quickly turned chaotic. There was no doubt that they'd attract attention or be kicked out of the range soon if they kept up their arguing... but two of the newest faces to be brought along to G-6 were certainly making the place lively.

[Deleted]

  From a watch station above the firing ranges, a tall, shadowy figure watched the testing below. He had ensured that the supplies Egon received included a portion of faulty components. It was a test of sorts, to see how he would do in a pinch, or with unexpected situations. It only took 2 failures until he had a working model, however, so the truthful cyborg was fairly golden in Flynn's book at the moment. The dark room concealed his expression, but it was approving. It was rather unusual to essentially steal a recruit, but he had managed to get authorization to transfer the lost Marine, primarily by virtue of him being in G-6 already. Things were all coming together.... All that was required for him to move forward now was one final thing. 

 With a flicker, light returned to the room. Flynn looked up at the Logistics and Supply Officer on a ladder, who gave him a thumbs up. "All good to go, sir." The longarm gave a brief nod of thanks. "Excellent. Sorry to trouble you with this, but it looks like someone was fiddling with a rifle and shot out the lights in here. Again." Chuckling, the Logistics officer waved a dismissive hand, snagging his ladder and wandering out the door. Returning to the papers on the desk beside him, Flynn grabbed a pen and began filling out the last relevant details. Some of this would need to be turned in to Vice Admiral Wermengard, and some of it would prevent the rest of CAZADOR from waking him up early to answer 300 questions about the same 12 things. 

 As he worked, the Marine tried to ignore the letter on his desk. It was written in a neat handwriting, by someone who clearly had practice writing in the most emotionally detached manner conceivable. As he worked, trying very, very hard to ignore it, as if this would make it vanish, phrases lept from the page at him like wild beasts. "...Regret to inform you that your Mother and Father.." He hadn't ever really felt a connection to the pair. They had birthed him, hypothetically, but the only memories he had were of sneering, domineering people in gaudy outfits, parts of their body sagging as servants attached corsets and such to hide the flab. "... As per your parent's will, the title of Count was to pass on to your younger brother..." His fingers twitched. He had seen the boy that had grown up under his parent's whim. Sneering little brat. Had a head for business, but tended to follow his other head far too often. Still, it would fit with most of the nobility he had encountered. 

 It was the next part where things got really difficult. Putting the pen down, the work in front of him finished, the doctor gathered up his work, and placing it in a bag, left the room. He had a meeting with Wermengard, and it wouldn't do to keep his boss waiting. After a moment, he grabbed the letter, and ducking under the door frame, reread the last half. As he wove through the people moving about the halls of G-6, his mind focused again on the piece of parchment bearing the seal of the Royal Family of Ilusia. It wasn't from the royal family, but the authority behind it was clear. 

  "As per your parent's will, the title of Count was to pass on to your younger brother. However, your family structure and situation presents us with a conflict. Theoretically, the wishes of the head of house would take precedence. However, there was no move made to disown you or your sister before the former Count and Countess Toctic died. Therefore, under the laws governing titles, you should be considered still valid contenders for the title and estates linked to it. 

 Your sibling, however, is challenging your right to the title through three points. Firstly, that you had estranged yourself from the family and the activities of the nobility, abandoning your duties. Secondly, that the will also leaves to him the family business, which, while operating through government contracts that tie it to the title, is not technically connected to said title in any way save the operations that are located on land originally conferred with the title to your great grandfather, the original holder of the rank. He contends that business requires the title to function as it is described in the will. Thirdly, He intends, as is his right as a directly descended male, to challenge you for the title if you dispute his claim.

 As a final note, Captain Toctic," And here, the letter showed a hair of personal interest. It seemed whoever wrote it was, if ever so slightly, willing to show vague preference. "It is worth noting that the title was, originally, conferred as a result of military service, and it is only in the past generation that your father began the merchant house that the Toctics are now known for. Your uncle and grandfather were reported to have been killed in service to the Marines, leaving the title with only one heir. While it is not mandatory to retain the title through military service, Illusia is a proud kingdom, and a continuation of military service as opposed to a merchant house would be seen as a preferable continuation of the title's original intention. 

 In closing, you are asked to either return, or send word as to your decision as soon as possible. 
 Sincerely, 
  Hieronymus K. Gaizorrich, 
  Minister of Succession and Inheritance, Illusia Kingdom


  Frowning, Flynn took a moment to realize that he had arrived at Wermengard's office door. He was awakened from his inner thoughts by the booming voice of his boss, the Vice Admiral calling out " Hurry up, boyo! I haven't got all day!"  The issue of his title would have to wait. From the summons, it seemed like there was some problem that he would have to deal with. Entering the room, he crossed the divide in two strides. Reaching out with his abnormally long arms, he had pulled the chair out and sat down in it within a second of opening the door, closing it behind him "Sir. I have the reports you requested with me, but I'm assuming, from your desk, that there's something else? Also, I apologize for the dog. I have no idea how it got in here." Indeed, the Labrador, which the crew had taken to calling Shuck, had somehow found it's way into the office, and was sitting on top of one of Wermengard's bookshelves, wagging it's tail.

[Suriko]

The young marine had been keeping himself busy as well since their return to the Lanza chain, trying to kept his thoughts preoccupied with work rather than on his strange encounter in the marketplace. That green-eyed devil showing himself to the swordsman. To be perfectly honest with himself, the marine officer was still doubting whether or not the man had actually been there. It could have easily been the stress of such a large mission. Hell, Suriko didn't even look past the possibility of this being some cause of his transformation of a cyborg. Not that the ensign suspected Captain Flynn of such a dubious action, but it just seemed too random, and too convenient. None of the other marines there had been around to see him, so that only asserted the possibility. As these thoughts continued to bounce around in the young man's mind, he made his way to the armory. He had come to know the logistics staff there, as it had been his contribution to help them with work orders when not on a mission. At this time, he had promised his fire team he'd look over their equipment. He wasn't as experienced with the equipment as he was with swords, but the staff at the armory were rather insightful in that regard as well. He had been nearly finished when Lawrence had shown up to speak with him.

"Sur-" Recruit whitehorn had to stop himself. While the ensign himself had no real concern over titles, Lawrence was a different story. Being a fresh recruit not long before being transferred to Chimera, the 18 year old wanted to his best to avoid anything that would have him discharged from this unit. "Ensign Miyami." The cyborg swordsman turned towards one of his teammate after setting down the armored gloves he had been working on for Watts. "Yes? His gaze steadied on the younger marine, curious why he was approaching him now. He appeared slightly nervous, as if reluctant to as something. "Well, Sir. I'd like to spar with you at some point." The ensign chuckled, much to Whitehorn's increased nervousness. "I suppose if I had the time, though I feel that Watts would be a better opponent. My skills without my sword is rather lacking. Aside from that.." The cyborg marine tossed a pair of bracers to the recruit, Lawrence caught a little off gaurd by the act. They would have felt light for being most metal, while overall they had a curved shape to them "Might not be much, but it could keep you from ending up like me or Egon." Truthfully, Suriko had resisted the urge to use Ida's name for their new cyborg recruit, cause it was rather funny. Lawrence had secure the armor around his forearms, gauging how much flexibility it still allowed him. "Um.. Well I don't know what to say, Sir. I.. The smith shook his head as he smiled to his subordinate. "Don't worry about it. I would prefer to keep most of my team alive and well. But I do have other business I need to attend to." The marine stood up, reaching for the bokuto he had brought with him today.

The young recruit merely saluted him and then walked off. Nodding in return, Suriko made his ways through the rather large halls of G-6. He had to admit himself, that their base was still rather overwhelming. The ensign doubted that he had even seen more than half of it, as he had finally reached the courtyard. It had been bustling with various people, be it marines or the scientist in the employ of world government. Given that he had now received his proper attire, the swordsman blended in rather well in the sea of white. Shuman had managed to get him a kimono and hakama that still fit the Marine style. It still was mostly white with a navy blue collar. And the hakama was the same blue as well. And it had the Seagull insignia followed by the words Marines emblazoned noticeably on the back. In that same sea of white, a small blip of pink had appeared. The marine cyborg smirked as he recognized instantly who it was. He made his way over to the seemingly timid girl, waving to her as he got closer. "Hello Mari. What has you out and about? I assumed you'd still be working on the next addition to your team." He smiled as he looked to the pink haired girl, their last mission casting her in a different light for the samurai. Sure, the puppeteer was still rather unsure of herself at times. But the cyborg had also seen the moments when that viel of doubt gave way to rather formidable person. It was then that he remembered a request he had wanted to make.

Waiting for her to respond, Suriko scratched the back of his head, donning a troubled grin. "I was also wondering if I could make a request of you." The officer lowered his head, bowing it to her as he spoke once more. "I may be good with metal, but I have no skill with wood. I was wondering if it wouldn't trouble you to much to work on a new wooden sword for me. this one I have now is fine, but I doubt it will last all that long in the field." His tone nervous, the ensign wanted to be respectful to Mari. Especially when it involved her craft. "I can understand if you'd be too busy to do so."

[Vio]

"Hello, Mari. What has you out and about?" asked the familiar voice of Ensign Suriko Miyami as he approached, drawing the attentions of Mari Anette. She could never quite explain it to herself, but the swordsman and Mahogani shared a lot more in common than she had realised when they had first met. Of course, the most interesting fact was that they both used a bokutou - a wooden sword. Albeit, one relied upon it, while the other was happy to fight with an actual blade when the time came. As per usual, the Warrant Officer was shy and silent, momentarily caught off guard after being wrenched free of her idle daydreaming. There was certainly a lot on her mind, especially with the growing difficulty of the fights she had been involved in so far, hence the growing need for a marionette capable of taking hits. That was the purpose of Teak, sixty percent of whom was still nothing more than untouched pieces of lumber. Twice the girl had had to cease her work, simply because the wood being used was of the finest quality; the grain tight and the sapwood decorated with a silvery sheen, like steel had been woven into the veins of the wood itself. As such, the blades used for carving had been worn down so rapidly, forcing her to have them sharpened.

"Um. Hi, S-Sur- Uhhh- Ensign M-Miyami!" Nervously raising her hand in a salute, the timorous teenager still felt the need to remain formal and well-mannered, half out of knowing her place among the ranks and half out of the teachings of her grandfather. That said, the crew as a whole was a lot less strict when it came to such things. Not to mention the fact that both Suriko and herself were often labeled as the protégés of their Captain, given charge that they would otherwise not have at their respective ranks. Well, maybe Mister Miyami would, but not herself. She was only a Warrant Officer, after all, and even then she was unsure of what duties she actually had. Besides, she tended to leave some of her work in the more capable hands of her CPO, who never seemed to object. Before she continued to speak, she took a deep breath, trying to still her nervous tremors.

"I- Um- I was, but... The wood keeps dulling the b-blades after a couple of hours. So, T-Teak's taking a lot longer to finish..." Perhaps feeling a little incompetent that she had yet to make any major progress on her latest carven comrade, Miss Anette was certainly not intending to let down the shield-bearing puppet and leave him to rot. Not that teak would rot easily at all, given the high concentration of silicates in the lumber. But, she knew what she meant. It was then that rosé eyes noticed that the man himself was scratching the back of his head in a somewhat nervous fashion, his soft smile seeming to express something she had otherwise never seen. Usually Suriko seemed the confident sort, but now that the puppeteer in pink was started to feel a little braver, she was also starting to see that not everyone around her was quite as confident as they made themselves out to be. It took a change to notice a change, it seemed.

He wants me to make a new wooden sword for him!? A little shocked at the request presented by the samurai, the curious carpenter's eyes widened somewhat, almost out of excitement. Yes, woodwork was her specialty, but she had never made an actual sword of wood with her own two hands before. Indeed, the one that Mahogani wielded was not of her design, but of her grandfather's. A much more experienced and skilled man at the craft, whose endless knowledge still eluded her, no matter how many times she read through the journals he had left behind. Then again. The way they were written was much like a giant web of riddles, some of which could not be solved as of yet, and others she was likely just not seeing when she read them. And then there were all the blank pages and the little scribbled pencil drawings. Still, those would be puzzles she would have to leave for now, for there was a more interesting opportunity at large.

"No- I... I'd love to!" Composing herself as best she could, the cherry blossom-haired girl smiled eagerly, finding that her timid trembling had now been overwritten by a warm and ecstatic buzzing. It was a strangely familiar feeling, and the regal redwood even seemed to respond to it, had bobbing back slightly to cast amber eyes towards the Ensign. And then it struck her. She was always so afraid of using Mahogani in any fight that could risk extreme damage to this treasured and utterly unique example of a marionette, but perhaps that was what she had been trying to tell her all this time? Suriko. The black shape in the sky. That must have been it. All the marionette wanted was a challenge, to test her blade against a worthy opposition. Gently, the pallid puppeteer eased her hand towards the hilt of the intricate idol's own sword, drawing it free of the lavender linen that formed the scabbard, and held it up between herself and the swordsman so that both could see the side of the weapon.

"I... My grandfather... H-he made this - he made Mahogani - a long time ago. B-before I was born, I think," explained the young woman, her own eyes admiring the strange little sword. It was much like an actual katana, but forged from timber of richest red-brown. Everything about it matched the style of the actual blade used by Suriko and others who called themselves 'Samurai', from the curvature of the weapon to the design of the blade itself. Even complete with the strange dark pattern around the edge which, in the case of this particular sword, almost seemed to resemble a low fire. How it had been crafted, Mari did not know, but she did know it was an impressive tool. It had never broken once since it's true owner had fallen into her possession, but there was always a chance that it might. No material was invincible and, knowing this, she had set herself another goal. "I want to l-learn how he did it... So. I'll try and make a good replacement for your own. I-I can't promise a blade like Mahogani's, but I'll try!"

Mahogani...? What is it? Still held tightly to her body in her left arm, the white-faced doll seemed to quiver in her grasp, eyes still locked upon the bronzed face of the swordsman. There was another strange similarity between the two that Miss Anette had seen, but never really taken much heed of. Both puppet and person shared strikingly similar looks; amber eyes and deep red hair. But, never before had the mousy maiden felt such a thing from the marionette. It was odd and almost uncharacteristic, but at the same time it said a lot. She said a lot. Maybe she was always talking, but never had the puppet-maker's granddaughter heard that voice. Perhaps now she had? Looking towards Mahogani, the girl stared for a moment, lowering the blade. There was a puzzled look upon her own face, not that she realised it as she stared into those fiery and unblinking amber eyes, but soon that look turned to a determined grin, followed by a nod of the head as she looked back to her fellow Marine.

"Alright... I understand now," the not-so-trepidatious teen began with a whisper as she slipped the sword back into the linen saya. Then, meeting the gaze of Miyami, she continued in a much more confident tone, though not without her usual nervous stammer. "I'll make a sword for you. B-but, there's one condition... I think- no- I know! Mahogani wants to see for herself i-if you really deserve to wield it! I guess... I guess she wants to spar with you."

I finally heard your voice, Mahogani... Mari thought. No, I didn't hear it. I felt it...

~~~~~

"Ah, perfect timing!" Wermengard jeered, eyes meeting those of the Captain as he swiftly slipped into the office, taking the seat offered to him and closing the door at roughly the same time. The typical benefit of being a Longarm, but that was not something that needed to be pointed out to the silver-haired scientist. No, the Vice Admiral was pretty set on what he had to say and - while definitely feeling a strange apprehension about it - was about to do so without giving away his nerves. "And don't worry about him, boyo! He's done nothing wrong!

"But, there's more important matters than a Lab in the lab, eh?" Attempting to keep the situation somewhat light on the heart, well aware of recent news that had reached Mister Toctic, Wermengard cracked a poor attempt for a joke before a slightly more serious look took over his face. Brow furrowed, the large fingers of his left hand brushed idly upon his moustache as he considered what order of topic was best to take.

"Well, the reason I wanted to talk to you is - well - there's a lot of reasons! There's good news," he said heartily, "and then there's bad news." Resting his palm on the table, he met the eyes of the lean Longarm, gathering his thoughts for a moment before speaking again. There was definitely a lot to be said, so the man thought it best to be blunt and get the good news out of the way first.

"First off, congratulations are in order! I heard from Shuman that the raid on Pirate's Market was a success?" Smiling a satisfied smile, the man could not help but feel proud that the aspiring officer had managed to come so far in what seemed like such a short time. Clearly Flynn had potential, as did the members of the crew called C.H.I.M.E.R.A, and the big boss hoped that the Avernus was going to help them grow as a unit. That was the intention, at least. Why else would he trust them with a state of the art submersible ship? "So, how was it?"

Receiving a complete written report was one thing, but if there was one thing that Wermengard liked, it was hearing it straight for the horse's mouth! Besides, written reports had never been his thing, but HQ demanded them, so that was that. There was nothing he could do for it, but his curiosity was still prevalent. He wanted to know just how the job had gone, how the Avernus had fared and, all in all, the performance of this fledgling crew. And so he waited and listened eagerly until the doctor had finished his explanation before continuing.

"Well then, that's the good news over, I suppose," continued the VA, the smile on his face easing as he rearranged the files on his desk, hands upon the three that concerned him most. But there was something else that he knew needed to be said. "I received word that your parents have passed. My condolences...

"Heh. However, there are other matters I want to talk about. Firstly, we've recently received word of a new group that have emerged from the shadows." With one hand, he slipped forward the first of the files across the desk and towards the Captain, gesturing for him to have a look. "Our sources have yet to provide any concrete evidence about their whereabouts or activities, but I can tell you this much. They used to be a part of the Science Division, like Project CAZADOR, but were disbanded due to thoughts that their work was unethical. Some stayed with the Marines. Heck, two of their old members now work here at G-6! But the rest quit and vanished. It's believed that they're continuing work on their original project, but it's only rumour as of now. However, I want you - all of C.H.I.M.E.R.A - to keep your eyes peeled. If these boys have any resentment for the World Government, then it's likely they've turned their backs on the law. Everything about them is in that file for you...

"...There's one more thing, two actually, but these are matters I want you to keep to yourself for now," Wermengard added, his tone changing to a quieter one as he spoke and opened up the two remaining files, turning them to show Flynn. For a moment longer he paused, then moved his hands away to reveal the names and faces. Two people were shown. One a man with a mop of green hair and pale jade eyes, the other a young girl in her teens with long blue hair and eyes a matching shade of sapphire. Both bore similar names. Kermit Anette and Aoume Anette. "I want you to keep these from her for now. She's already lost her grandfather in the last year, so I daren't imagine what impact it would have if she found out both her father and her half-sister were pirates. Kermit vanished a few years back, he was the first mate of some crew that had managed to reach the New World, but they were never seen or heard of after that. It was assumed they were killed by some other pirates, or what have you, but he's been sighted in the last few months around the Blues. Seems he's taken on his own crew, but we've yet to see him make any drastic moves as of yet...

"As for Aoume, HQ's pretty certain that she's not involved with her father at all. She's got her own crew, coming from West Blue, and was last sighted headed for the Grand Line. Regardless, she's already done enough to grab herself a hefty bounty of thirty two million. Either way," he sighed, his voice returning to a greater volume that was so natural of him, "That's all I have to say. I'll sort out something for your boys and girls to do soon, rather than keep you sitting here for too long! Oh! Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

~~~~~

Over at the firing ranges, things were most definitely starting to kick off, though not in a way that anybody had actually expected. Least of all, a certain scientist by the name of Josephine Rodin, who was currently entering the range with her latest development in tow. That, and she was surrounded by no less than six of her assistants, huddled around her in some sort of strangely compact formation. As the doctor entered the range, several sets of eyes were shifted towards her, some raising eyebrows as they took note of her most distinctive feature. When you stood no taller than a hundred and forty centimetres, you were either easily overlooked, or the centre of attention when you were walking through a Marine base. If not for her pristine white lab coat, many would easily have mistaken her for a chore girl. Of course, others looked not to her, but to the strange contraption that walked along in the wake of the seven scientists.

"What is up with those two? Bickering like children," the scientist commented as she looked across to two figures that were currently shouting at one another. One a man with a distinctly mechanical set of limbs, the other a woman who seemed to be rather tech savvy in her own regard. Well, at least moving to G-6 had some additional benefits that would outweigh the detriment - only slightly, though. Big open spaces were, quite frankly, terrifying to the tiny technician. Still, the growing development of the Pastor Program required larger testing facilities, the likes of which the Grand Steel Flotilla just could not offer anymore. There was enough room for five Pastors in her laboratory, but the number she needed to produce was ten times that. It was not as if she could let others do it for her, for Josephine was the all-important key to the creation of such advanced robotics.

"Right! If you would please guide PZ-01 onto the firing range ready for testing, that would be most obliged." Speaking to two of the six scientists as the group came to a halt, Doctor Rodin gestured for them to do as she asked, and they did so without complaints. They knew just as well as she did how important this was. The more data they could retrieve from this alpha testing, the better, but what she eagerly awaited was the results of the beta test specimen. Until then, she would have to make do with what was available, including a bag of chewable sweets and a carton of fresh milk which one of the remaining men held upon a tray. Wide blue eyes watched and waited as the robotic wolf-like entity was guided onto the range, the being standing perfectly still as the escorting men fixed a strange firearm to its back. This was a firing range, after all, so what better place to test the accuracy of her creation with a riot control weapon? It took a minute for them to finish installing the equipment to the beast's back, but once they had done so, they were quick to back away.

"Preparing first target!" announced another man as a fresh target silhouette was raised through the pulling of a switch. "Fire!"

Within seconds of the target appearing, the order was given, and the robot responded quickly. Not as quickly as a man could, but quickly enough to warrant praise. Robotics were trickier than cybernetics, though the principle was similar. A series of six popping sounds succeeded the call, the strange device sending out a series of pellets that whistled through the air and connected with the target, causing it to shudder and rattle as the rounds hit their mark. Well, all but two landed, at least...

SPOILER: Click to show

So... Much... Writing...

Suriko Miyami (ff9900)
Josephine Rodin (33ffff)

Rodin's Profile

[Roin]

The arrival of a new party hadn't done much to stop the duo's argument. Even as the announcement was made by the tiny woman leading the group, Ida had begun to poke Egon between the eyes with her own mechanical hand, the gloved limb still feeling just like one would expect. Despite the revealing nature of her jumpsuit, the mechanic gal remarkably didn't have anything slip loose in the jumping-pokes.

"Egg-idiot! Big Egg! Eggman!"

The larger cyborg Marine could only narrow his eyes with each poke, steadily growing visibly more angered at the nickname. It hadn't ever been an issue back home, perhaps due to not meeting people very often, but with this woman the "nickname" had come and started to annoy Egon beyond reason. The single-armed man reached up and took hold of the annoying digit, grasping the woman's pointer finger just in time for the man's shouting to reach his ears. In curiosity, Egon turned away from the little maniac to study the events... and then when the bang rang, the Metal Man didn't remotely flinch. Ida, however, had jumped with an even bigger scare.

After a display like that, the accuracy visible to the truthful Marine's eyes, there was only one thing to do. With Ida half-pulling and half-beating on the large guy, Egon had begun to make his way over. The wrench gal had put on a face even as the two stopped within speaking distance of the new arrival and their payload. While Ida quickly turned and buried one of her lips in an attempt to not loose her wrath on any of the group... the large man looked down toward the tiny woman among them. The size difference wasn't too extreme... but looking down on the lab-coat wearing woman had made a single idea come to his mind.

"You... smell like milk."

The comment might no doubt draw a few confused glances, the lab-gal on his side being the first one, but Egon's nose had picked it out. It wasn't normal to smell people, but how could Egon tell her otherwise? The small woman and her bunch had brought amazing tech that interested the big Marine, but the truthful nature prevented that from coming forward. As soon as the comment had sat for only a moment, however, the cybernetic girl beside the Truthful Marine bowed her head in an apology.

"Eggon didn't mean that! Steam shifting out of his core can sometimes make him a bit lightheaded!" "Oh, I meant it... and my name is Egon, not Eggon. This is Ida... who are you and where did you get a thing like... that?"

The hand of the Marine's new arm was pointing toward the mechanical marvel, but otherwise the gaze remained on the small lab coat-wearing woman. Despite this, however, a smirk had come to Egon's face. Though there was no way to make sure of who this woman was, or if she was the one responsible for this machine... she stood out the most.

"I'm a fan of machines as well... I'm only a Seaman Recruit, but I came from Karakuri Island, so things like that were pretty common. Most were things left behind by the Big V, but to see machinery of high quality away from home... it's quite a nice sight!"

[Deleted]

 The longarm remained silent and still until he was directly questioned. To the young scientist, Wermengard was a figure he respected immensely, even if he was often exasperated by the older V. Admiral's actions. In his mind, it was only proper to be professional when business was being discussed. It didn't really cross his mind that this seemed a bit cold to most, but thankfully, Wermengard understood his thought process. In this case, anyway. 

 As the senior officer listened curiously, Flynn explained what happened during the assault on the market. He didn't interject, although his opinion of various events were clear. His grin upon hearing the announcement and subsequent explosions had darkened into a cold scowl when the longarm explained where the dog had come from. The red-haired man was no more a fan of animal abuse than Flynn, and his backing was one of the reasons CAZADOR had managed to avoid having to test on animals. The justification to the World Government was that it was a waste of materials due to the differing body shape, but most people at the labs recalled the incident where a researcher had kicked one of the support staff's cat's out of his way. Flynn had hurled the man off the nearby balcony into the ocean and informed him his services were no longer required. When the enraged researcher had tried to complain to Wermengard, he had thrown the man off another balcony. 

  The story wrapped up with Flynn's fight with the Jack. As he got to the end, the longarm paused, looking troubled. The look passed, however, and the Captain saluted. "That's all sir. The others apparently functioned well enough, and Mari- Miss Annette has proven to be a very capable fighter. Frankly sir, I wouldn't be surprised if those puppets of hers could go toe to toe with a Cazador before long." 

 "Well then, that's the good news over, I suppose," Flynn tensed up a bit, worried as to what was coming next- "I received word that your parents have passed. My condolences..." He relaxed again. "Sir, to be blunt. My parents were the worst kind of pampered, imbecilic aristocrat. The only reason my father got the title was due to the deaths of my uncle and grandfather in battle. The world could use a few less people like them, and I don't honestly regard them as any kind of family. "

 Sitting back, the cyborg frowned a bit as Wermengard merely chuckled slightly. It was worrying to see the jolly Marine so troubled. The reason was clear soon enough, however. As his superior spoke, Flynn's fists clenched, and his face became paler, if such a thing could be conceived. "Sir, I believe I've found mention of the project you mean. The World Government can be cruel, but this was horrifying. We build weapons here at Cazador. Those people... They made abominations. I would be willing to bet CHIMERA's funding for the next 3 months that Malvorkis was associated with them after what he did. Those cyborgs of his..." Shaking his head, the rage in the pale longarm's eyes was terrifying. "No. Those were not cyborgs. Those were corpses being kept locked on this earth by sheer force." 

 Staring up at Wermengard, the four arms crossed over his chest. It was appropriate that he could double the expression,as the scientist was quite obstinate on some matters. "If we have people from that project working for us, we need a watch on them immediately." He had almost stood up when the next words stopped him. As the commander spoke, Flynn's eyes moved back and forth over the pictures. It was clear that these people were related to Mari, and closely. To find out that, after having joined the Marines, your relatives were pirates... 

 Shaking his head, the pale young man finished standing, and picked up the files. "Damn. I'll keep this quiet, sir. She doesn't need this right now, and honestly, if she never has to know, I can't say I'd disagree with keeping it from her. 32 is big for the blues, and that likely means her relative is a killer. For her sake... I hope I'm wrong." Sorting through the files, as well as his reports, the longarm had almost made it to the door before he paused. "Doctor Rodin... isn't she the one who developed those Pastor units? The entirely robotic hounds, right?"  Shuck perked his head up, but the thoughts in Flynn's head were whirling too fast to notice. 

 Turning back, there was a gleam in the blue eyes of Flynn Toctic that had become known at CAZADOR for what happened after it. "Sir, if I can convince her to assist me... I intend to move forward on the Genius Loci Initiative." Before Wermengard could respond, the Longarm had rushed out the door, snatching a paper as it fell from the pile in his arms. Shuck stood up, stretched, and somehow, between blinks, sidled away. Shaking his head, Wermengard went back to his work. 

 Moving down the stairway, Flynn consulted a small notebook detailing his work for the day. He was intending to check on Egon once more, and then hopefully locate Doctor Rodin. He had heard she was a great thinker, and it would be incredibly if he could pick her brain on the creation of the Pastors, given their robotic minds. Smiling, he almost felt like whistling. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Expressionless, Flynn felt like breaking something. He had, in a sense, located Doctor Rodin. This had occurred when he walked in to the range, only to discover his two new and possibly insane recruits talking to a group of scientists that had to be Rodin's team, given their lack of CAZADOR uniform. This would have been wonderful, except that he had heard, from all the way down the hall no less, the two morons arguing and telling one of the World Government's scientists that she smelled like milk. He had sped up to try and apologize, though thankfully that woman Ida had beat him to it. However, upon entering, he was forced to conclude one thing. Doctor Rodin, the scientist behind the Pastor Riot Control Robot... Was a small child. Because of course,that made perfect sense.

 Trying to keep his screams of hate for how little sense the world seemed to make internal, Flynn walked over. "Egon, don't be rude." Placing his files on a nearby table, he nodded. "I'm Captain Flynn Toctic, commander of CHIMERA and one of the head scientists of CAZADOR. You would be our guest, Doctor Rodin, I presume?"
    

[Suriko]

The swordsman smiled and relaxed a little as he noticed that mari was just as nervous as he was. He began by correcting her, feeling that they knew each other well enough that the rank and title didn't matter all that much. Besides, at its core, that was the idea of CHIMERA. At least, that was how the cyborg samurai took it. This unit may still follow structure of their comrades to a certain level, but even the ensign encouraged his team to speak up when they felt there was a better plan. Despite the small amount of time they had spent around each other, it still worked out rather well for the market attack. "No- I... I'd love to!" Trying not to get sidetracked, it barely registered that she had accepted his request. Suriko looked up to the small girl, a calmer smile forming. his amber hues noticed the small signs in her actions, seeing that he might have asked her to do something she had never considered before. "I appreciate it, Mari. I really couldn't thank you enough for saying yes. If you need any help, I may not know wood, but I know blades." As Mari reached down to the samurai puppet's side, the marine watched as she pulled the wooden blade from her partner's side. He took a good look at the small wooden katana. "I... My grandfather... H-he made this - he made Mahogani - a long time ago. B-before I was born, I think,"

The cyborg swordsman could not be more amazed by the artifact, with how close it was in style to the blades he wielded himself. The style of the blade itself was nothing like his bokuto, more like an actual blade. If she did manage to make a bokuto like this for him to wield, he could easily fight just as he would with his katana. He almost wanted to take a closer look, stopping himself from grabbing the timid girl's hand. "You grandfather was truly a master of his craft, and possibly of other as well." Looking once more at the blade, the laidback samurai wondered if maybe this grandfather of hers had learned some smithing to be able to get the style down as he did. As he heard the younger marine's soft voice, Suriko's attention returned to the puppeteer. "I want to l-learn how he did it... So. I'll try and make a good replacement for your own. I-I can't promise a blade like Mahogani's, but I'll try!" This caused the swordsman to smile a bit as it seemed it definitely gave the young carpenter a new challenge and something she could be proud of as well. If it helped the girl gain even more confidence in herself, even better.

"That's all I can ask of you, Mari. Though I feel you deserve a little more in return for such work." The young marine watched as the puppeteer turned her attention to the puppet currently in her arm. It was then that he noticed the gaze he was getting from the redwood puppet herself, almost as if the small samurai was staring him down. It wasn't the first time he had felt this, and it seemed like it would not be the last either. As Mari continued to keep her attention on her puppet, the cyborg wondered if she was really communicating with them. From what he had seen of the small girl, her puppets surely seemed to have a life of their own. It wasn't that he actually believe they did, but to the newly trained smith, it was how he seemed in tune with the items he worked on and crafted. The young man was able to tell exactly what was wrong and what needed to be done to fix the issue. Maybe it was the same for Mari, but in a more in depth manner. Whatever it was, the young marine officer appeared to have some sort of ephihany, whispering something before making her declaration to the swordsman.

"I'll make a sword for you. B-but, there's one condition... I think- no- I know! Mahogani wants to see for herself i-if you really deserve to wield it! I guess... I guess she wants to spar with you." It had been so unexpected, that the cyborg samurai wasn't sure if he hard correctly. And as it stood, neither were the surrounding marines and scientists. The two had both gotten a slight reputation with their area of G-6, given the exploits of their mission at the Pirate's market. Spreading like a wild blaze, the attention seemed to center on the two, curious of how this would turn out. The only thing to pass the cyborg's lips was a soft chuckle. Not out of disbelief or in mocking tone, just light amused one. The amber-eyed samurai peered down to the puppeteer in pink. "Well i suppose I can hardly refuse a challenge from a fellow samurai." He was sure to focus his attention to mahogani as well. The sounds and chatter of their now captive audience erupted suddenly, making the swordsman aware of the crowd that had gathered. "Sir, you're not gonna try and fight a little girl, are you?" Which had then been responded to by another marine. "Are you kidding? Annette could wipe the floor with the ensign. I heard she has a puppet that towered over the captain. He doesn't stand a chance." More voice sprang forth as the ensign simply chuckled more, shaking his head. "Geez, you'd think they'd have nothing better to do." He looked to Mari seriously for a moment. "NMow would probably be as good a time as any, right?" With that, the marine cyborg made his way towards what had been basically dubbed as a gym. It had a wide open area for such sparring, as well as some training equipment.

Making his way into the gym, the red-haired samurai quietly walked towards the sparring mats. He moved towards the spot further from the door, allowing mari the shorter distance. Once she was in position, the cyborg bowed his upper body, as a show of respect to his comrade. Once she did the same, he stood back up and lowered his hand to the hilt of the bokuto, gripping it firmly as he lowered his body to a firm stance. His right foot had been planted firmly forward, allowing him to follow through quickly with a strike. "I am ready whenever you are, Mari." The man was wary of striking first. Partly because of the fact that the puppeteer was a young woman. But he also had rarely seen the small samurai puppet in action, meaning he ahd to be careful. Waiting for her to make her move, his amber gaze focused on the pale puppet.

[Vio]

"Well, I suppose I can hardly refuse a challenge from a fellow Samurai." The words of the Ensign taken to heart, Mari Anette smiled and felt her stomach flutter like butterflies in anticipation of what would come next. This was an entirely new experience for her, though perhaps that was the best thing? So far, combat had been forced upon her, but now she was taking the plunge and testing herself. If anything, she was testing the bond between herself and Mahogani. This was a bond that she knew, deep down, needed to be tested. Pushing herself to the limit was the only way she could find what she was truly capable of; and what she was truly capable of was actually what wracked her nerves the most. Her grandfather could split a whole ship clean in two with a wooden sword, one wielded by a marionette, and if she could find the secret to being able to do that...

"Geez, you'd think they'd have nothing better to do," said Suriko, shaking his head and chuckling softly at the hue and cry of the already amassing audience, snapping the pallid puppeteer from her train of thought. The words and whispers of the men and women around them spoke of many things. Some regarded her as little more than a child, while others who had witnessed her abilities first hand praised her talents and supported her confidence. A lot of them were likely too young to remember when her own grandfather had been part of the World Navy, so it made sense to her that they had no prior knowledge of puppetry in combat. A few of them - members of C.H.I.M.E.R.A. - had seen the hulking goliath that was Sequoia scatter criminals like they were nothing, but not a one had witnessed the true extent of Mahogani's power. It was just as mysterious to them as it was to herself, with only a select few actually having seen the swordswoman draw her blade. Among them; Alyss Shuman, Flynt Anderson and of course, Captain Flynn Toctic himself.

"Y-yes!" Following behind Mister Miyami, the two officers entered the area in which many swordsmen sparred and others trained their bodies. It was a gymnasium of sorts, though she distinctly remembered someone saying that it was called something else entirely for whatever reason. The actual name eluded her, especially as everybody just called it the gym. Within its walls were a variety of different pieces of equipment; weights for lifting, cleverly designed devices known as treadmills, even a basketball net was secured to the far wall. But the area in which this little test of skill would occur was upon the sparring mats, simple rectangles of cushioned material that helped to soften falls and reduce the risk of accidental injury. The swordsman stood himself at the far end of one of the mats, and she stepped into position at the opposing end. The distance between them was not too great at all, but enough to make it feel as if she were about to run a marathon. Whose skill with a sword was greater? That was what they were here to find out, no?

Why is he bowing? Oh! Yes, of course! Somewhat hastily returning the Samurai's gesture of respect, Miss Anette bowed her own body, feeling somewhat embarrassed at the fact that such a simple thing had escaped her mind. As level-headed and attentive as she normally was, something about this whole situation was throwing her for a loop. These nervous tendencies needed to be forced out of her, but the held fast when she was the centre of attention. The only time they seemed to fade was when the eyes were not upon her. Squatting down and kneeling the regal redwood upon the mat before her, the timorous teenager pulled free the cross-shaped control bars from her pockets and began to normally tedious process of unraveling the wires. Less than a year ago, this would have taken her the best part of two minutes to complete, but now she was much faster at the act. Indeed, she practised it quite regularly - even more so now that she was a Marine - and had reduced the total time down to around thirty seconds.

Alright then, Mahogani... It's time we showed him what we're made of! Silvery steel strings now loosened from the wooden bars to which they connected, the more confident carpenter felt a lot less intimidated as she locked the wires into their places about the puppet's body. The arms, the legs, the back of the head. All of these locations were vital to the correct commandeering of a doll such as this. Simple fastening hooks almost as small as the eye of a sewing needle held them in place and guided the marionette's body through every viable motion. It was an extremely complex system, but one that she had been able to replicate quite accurately thanks to the knowledge passed down to her from Gepetto Anette himself. Plus a little bit of her puzzle solving ability, of course. Her very first attempt at replicating the design had been rather lack lustre, but Sycamore and Alder and Sequoia - and soon Teak - were testament to how much she had advanced.

"I- We are ready!" Confirming her preparations were complete with their would be opponent, the puppeteer in pink stood and stepped back from the mat, giving the steely strings a light tug to send the message to the Samurai herself. Head shifting upwards in response to the motions, Mahogani's rich amber hues locked with those of her adversary as the puppeteer herself adjusting the wiring. Quickly and gracefully, the intricate idol clambered to its feet, standing at full height and yet still being dwarfed by the foe she was about to face. Big things, small packages. The size of the opponent did not matter, all sense of apprehension having been drained from the Warrant Officer now that the stage was set, all replaced by a confident warmth that burned inside her heart. With a few quick motions, the delicate wooden fingers of the white-faced marionette wrapped about the hilt of the wooden blade at her flank, guiding it free of the lavender linen which held and protected it. The beautifully carved and lacquered wood of the katana gleamed softly in the light as Mahogani took a hold of the weapon in both hands, holding it before her in a stance that screamed of both readiness and confidence.

"Um," Mari began uncertainly, "wh-who goes first?"

~~~~~

"A great performance! I may need to re-calibrate the system to adjust for recoil, though." Congratulating herself while also realising the subtle flaws of her inventions, Doctor Josephine Rodin beamed with delight as she scribbled down some notes upon her clipboard, adding to the clusters of black scrawl that covered the topmost page. While she did that, two of her colleagues returned to the robotic unit, while another began the tedious search for the rubber pellets that had been launched in the first place. They were solid balls of rubber, easy to recycle, so it only made sense that none of them went to waste. But as the dainty little scientist finished her annotations, she was greeted by the shadow of a taller man. Of course, it was not too difficult to find someone taller than herself given her small stature, but still. What graced her eyes as she looked up was a man, a Seaman Recruit, who stood out among the others as a cyborg. His one arm and (from a quick observation) both his legs were mechanical in nature, and it was likely more of him was also wired with technology. Nothing amazing by the standards of her own engineering prowess, but cybernetics were an amazing thing, nonetheless. The man's comment, however, was just as amazing.

"And you have a keen nose, apparently!" she chirped, though her comment was quickly drowned out by the voice of another woman, also taller than herself. Once more, the two began to squabble trivially, Miss Rodin smiling awkwardly as they did before the male - whose name was apparently Egon - directed another comment towards her. There was a grin upon his face, a knowing one, and she could feel the excitement emanating from the Marine. However, while Egon explained his origins, the scientist sensed another presence approaching rather hastily and turned to face the source of feeling. Yet another cyborg, such features made obvious by the additional pair of arms, with silvery hair and a distinctively pallid visage. He introduced himself, the smaller scientist accepting the greeting, though it was not something she needed. It was only fair for fellow scientists to remain in the know about other aspects of scientific exploits, so Josephine was well aware of who and what this fellow was.

"I am, yes. It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Toctic - or Doctor - whichever you would prefer?" Offering a small hand to the much taller figure, the enlightened engineer retained her typical smile before offering an explanation to the question posed previously. "As for what that is, Egon, allow me to explain. And I can guarantee you will not have seen anything quite like it before, even for someone from Karakuri. I am, as Captain Toctic knows, the head scientist of the Pastor program. This specimen is PZ-01, the first of fifty Pastor units in development that we intend to ship to the Blues soon, to accompany the Cazadors and our forces and assist in the protection of the civilian population. The aim is riot suppression and law enforcement in a more peaceful and less lethal way. They are entirely mechanical in nature, unlike cybernetic organisms such as yourselves, the Cazadors and the Pacifista. Does that explanation suffice?"

[Roin]

Even as the tiny woman explained, the comment of Egon being rude and Ida trying to speak for him only bolstered the man's mix of frustration and awe. Frustration, obviously, directed toward his superior and Ida's remarks, while the awe was in the sheer complexity of a full machine. Robotics was something that wasn't part of Karakuri's culture... there was no reason to have them, due to the people and creatures of the island being supplemented and given cybernetic upgrades. Yet the very idea that some machine could handle pacification "peacefully" was something that the cyborg doubted. What the Pacifista and machines such as this lacked were the human touch of the "older models" like Egon.

"It does... but truthfully, it doesn't make me approving. Technology is one thing... but to entrust machines with the role of handling people... I somehow don't see the effectiveness of it. What if these machines were to somehow gain self-awareness?"

The arrival of Flynn wasn't even addressed... possibly out of rudeness this time. Ida had shot him a look at such an idea, however, immediately grabbing Egon's cybernetic arm. Before the large man could even turn, the woman had it disconnected with skillful presses to the connection joint.

"A machine is a machine, Egon! That thing getting any sort of self-awareness is like suggesting your arm has a potential to act on its own!" "My arm doesn't have the kind of software to identify targets, so there's no possible way for that to happen."

Ida blinked, looking rather confused at the sudden blurb of intelligence. Her attempts to dissuade the Marine from the conversation had only helped Egon keep on the matter. One thing the Doctor had taught Egon was that machines weren't toys... and from his own experience, they were dangerous tools. The fact that one of his prototype arms blew up made the truthful man... truthfully serious!

"Or, perhaps, do you all intend to pilot these things like some sort of submarine? I don't like to be the one against amazing technology, since I'd do almost anything to have some of it or be able to make it... but science is a dangerous tool."

A quick smack from the Cyborg's detached arm made Egon nearly curse, Ida staring up at him with a scowl. The younger woman understood the doctor's importance well enough, not one to doubt those that pushed for progress. Unlike her bigger, brutish Marine friend, the smaller woman had been more or less responsible for helping her father's expansion of the Vapor Core.

"Egon, apologize! You wouldn't ever doubt someone's work back on Karakuri!" "There's always a chance-" "Stop being so truthful, you big egg! This woman just said she's in charge of a big project! She's clearly smarter than you if the World Government has her building these Pastor things!" "... What does that have to do with my point?" Another smack sounded... and left the woman rushing off once more with the arm in her own. Testing the limb wasn't completely done... and Ida was trying to distance herself before Egon's success was used against him in the form of beating on the large cyborg with it.

[Deleted]

   
   During the entirety of Egon's conversation with Ida, Flynn was keeping a very firm grip on the bridge of his nose. Finally, a twitch in his eye signalling his growing irritation, he barked out "Egon, will you cut the bloody vaudeville show? I thought you had something you were supposed to be doing. We don't generally let random recruits and their mechanics use the range." Rubbing his face, he exhaled for a moment. He wasn't really mad at Egon, per say, but the information from Weremengard and the letter from home had him incredibly stressed out. 

  The letter had originally been something he was planning to ignore, but the more he thought about it, the more the idea of leaving the title to his foppish duelist of a brother ground his nerves. The little dandy was just as bad as their corrupt, overweight despot of a father had been. His parents had loved to prattle on about his great grandfather, the original earner of the title. Above the door in the front hall, for as long as he could remember, had hung a tapestry. It had depicted their coat of arms, as well as a scene, a battle multiple generations back. 

 The figure on the tapestry was a longarm, bearing their family's distinctive horns. He had paler skin, though not as pale as the nearly non-chromatic twins. The tapestry depicted him standing in a series of odd poses, with wind whipping around him, enemies being blown backwards. His ancestor, Gavynn Toctic. He had been an adventurer, known as the White Hawk, but after he came to fight for Illusia, he was given a new epithet. Sir Gavynn the Hurricane.

 His descendants had been fighters, serving Illusia or the World Government. With B-2 built on Ilusia's shores, it was often much the same thing. Of course, HIS father had to be the one who turned into a typical noble, a money-grubbing scumbag who had probably murdered his own relatives to be named the next Count. It was sickening, the state of things in his home. Apparently some people didn't regard their parents as mortal enemies. That must be nice. 

 Shaking his head at the pair of lunatics he had invited into his crew, he smiled. "Doctor is fine, Doctor Rodin. I consider myself a scientist above a soldier. Circumstances have demanded otherwise, however. I hope for much the same aim as what you are trying to achieve, I'd think." He was tempted to explain his idea for CHIMERA, but decided against it. Instead, he reached into his stack of papers, removing the file for the Genius Loci Initiative. "I was wondering if you might be able to provide some assistance with this? The Pastors are nearing the end of their initial development stage, I believe, and multiple people here at the lab have tried, and failed, to create a similar electronic brain that would work for our purposes."

 The folder he had handed over detailed an electronic mind that would function within a suitable vessel, in this case, the Avernus or Project CAZADOR's peak. While it would not be mobile, it would presumably be able to manage communications or other mechanical functions, if properly hooked up. To put it succinctly, Flynn was trying to make his Submarine semi-sapient.

[Suriko]

The young swordsman smirked as he watched the timid teen nervously return his gesture, before watching her lower herself down to her puppet's level. She still seemed a bit nervous. Maybe even a bit unsure. Not that the cyborg could blame her fore that, remembering the first time he seriously sparred his master. Whether that match could have been referred to as sparring or a beating honestly lied in who you asked. The young marine would have described it as the most savage beating he had ever experienced. To his master, it had been a chance to see what his master could teach him, even at a small portion of his strength. All that drama aside, it had been the cyborg samurai's first look at the power he might face out in that vast world, beyond kogarashi island. It had been that point to truly test himself against his master that he had been made aware of what he needed to do to improve. And Suriko could see that same opportunity for Mari, that she needed this match for a good reason. It seemed as though Mahogani was different from the other puppets the samurai had seen. As the puppeteer had said earlier, Mahogani was not one of her creations. And it seemed as she had a special connection with her own creations, that wasn't necessarily present with the red-wood swordswoman. And it seemed that this particular puppet had a goal in mind as well. It had been present ever since they first locked eyes back at Amino island. It had been the same call all swordsman have, at least in the presence of fellow swordsman. Suriko was unsure how he had not noticed it before, though it is hard to feel such an intent from a puppet he supposed.

He was shaken from his thoughts as Mari spoke up, asking who would go first. "Honestly there is no real order. This first part of any match or showdown is the mental battle. And trying to find any opening in your opponent." And as sad as it was to admit for the cyborg samurai, he couldn't find an opening. Well, more that he didn't have one he could trust. As she was right now, Mari and mahogani appeared to be wide open, but the ensign knew little of what the puppet was capable of. And he knew far too well what the pink puppeteer could do. Especially with her puppets. As he looked over the puppet, even suriko could admire the craftsmanship put into the diminutive wooden samurai. The creator had been sure to allow the puppet a considerable range of movement, nearly as much as they cyborg himself had. It made him wonder just how sturdy the silent swordsman was. Reaching for his bokuto, the marine dropped into a low stance, keeping his grip firm, but ready to draw once he made his strike. He was still a little wary about attacking such a small opponent, both in Mari and Mahogani. But he also felt it would be an insult to hold back more than he needed to.

Staring into the deep amber eyes of the hardwood puppet, The swordsman took a slow, deep breath. As he exhaled. the samurai stepped forward with his right foot, placing him within striking distance of his opponent. As he made his step forward, his hand slowly began to pull on the hilt of his wooden blade, just as if he was drawing a real sword. Aiming for the head of the miniature warrior, the marine cyborg pulled his wooden sword free from the grasp of his other hand, the tension of the act launching the practice with significant speed and force. The gym echoed with a large clack as the sound of wood hitting against wood could be heard. This was followed by shocked gasps and awes, the crowd amazed by the show they were currently witnessing. The cyborg samurai wa sa little shocked himself, seeing that his bokuto had indeed made contact with wood. But it had been the puppet's own blade that had intercepted his, stopping his attack with precision and no sign of damage. Given Suriko's lack of knowledge on wood and woodworking, he had to admire the resilience of whatever mahogani and her sword were made of. It actually urged him on to prove himself to the puppeteer and her stoic protector. With his first strike failing miserably, the swordsman did his best to retreat back a few steps. He held his wooden blade directly in front of him, keeping his guard up in preparation for a counter attack.

[Vio]

Just a short while after receiving her answer, the duel between Mari Anette and Suriko Miyami had kicked off, the swordsman of higher rank taking the initiative and attempting to strike first. In all honesty, the Warrant Officer felt intimidated by what she was going up against, but it was a decision that she had made for the sake of her most prized possession. In the end, this was not the puppeteer's fight, but the puppet's. A swift draw of his wooden blade and her opponent launched himself forwards with the speed and grace of an autumn breeze, revealing to her the prowess of the man whose life had been dictated by the will of the blades. But all sense of apprehension faded as soon as the blade started to cleave the air, delicate fingers twisting and tugging at the control bars, slivers of silvery steel trembling quietly to convey the speed and power. Quickly and quietly, Mahogani raised her own blade, turning its hardened back to block the blow. The air was filled with the sound of the two blades meeting, wood striking against wood, but the sound told little of the forces involved.

So that's what it feels like... It feels so strange and unfamiliar... The timorous teenager having little to no experience in actual swordsmanship, Miss Anette was at first quite startled by the sensations that ran through her body as the two blades met. Her defence - Mahogani's defence - had been absolutely perfect, the small wooden frame bracing against the attack in a way that the girl herself would never dare to do in such a circumstance, but yet it worked so well for the intricate idol and her own blade. Throughout her body the force of the attack had resonated, sending tremors through the strings and into the bones of the one who gave life to her. Yes, as a practitioner of the style of puppetry in battle it was her duty to understand the relationships between the puppeteer and the performer, but never had she felt the kind of energy returned to her body as she had done just now. Subtle quivers of the strings told her when and where to make adjustments, but these vibrations were entirely different. These told of something else, but there was no way for the girl to understand what that was.

Great work, Mahogani! Issuing her silent praise, the carpenter felt all the more confident about what she was doing. While it was she who was pulling the strings, it was Mahogani doing the majority of the work, and the puppet told her that through a steady nod of the head. With one quick flick of the strings, the smaller sword batted away the larger, Mister Miyami responding to the preparations with some of his own. Back he hopped, placing distance between himself and his opponent, setting his blade into a position not unlike the one the doll herself had adopted just seconds beforehand. As expected of a skilled swordsman, the Ensign was already ready and waiting for the counterattack. And ready to defend against it.

I... I'm not sure how to attack... Maybe I should just go with the flow...? Apprehension binding her limbs, Mari once again felt her lack of confidence trying to hold her down, unable to shake it off at first. Defending was one thing, but launching an attack against Suriko? Despite the situation, she was hesitant to take action, the minuscule space of time that had passed by while her foe took on his defensive stance seeming to take so much longer for the youngster. And then, somehow, she reminded herself of previous events. Instances where her skill had turned Mahogani's wooden blade into a weapon. The fight against Damoc, the chaos in the laboratory, the retreat from Pirate's Market. In each one of those fights, the wooden blade had shown that there was more Mahogani than met the eye. More to their bond than she ever realised. Vengeance. Duty. Protection. In each of those fights, there had been a reason for Mahogani's sword to leave its sheathe.

The reason now... Is because I want to make sure you're happy, Mahogani... Giving herself an excuse to press on, the pallid puppet-maker took the reins once more, pumping the strings with her palms while keeping her fingers still. This simple action sent the samurai puppet into a short dash forwards, small wooden shoes tapping gently upon the mat over which the fight ensued, blade held parallel to her waist as she closed the gap. The strings tightening as she dashed forth, taking a good four steps where her adversary only needed one or two, the amber eyed puppet awaited the order. And she received it soon after. With a distinctive twist of her wrist and motions of her arms, the strings that bound Mari to Mahogani once more conveyed the speed and power of the attack that would follow, putting a halt to the march and replacing the energy with a keen sweeping slash. With the softest whistle, the blade arced up and across, swung with a precision and swiftness that closely match the Ensign's previous attack.

-CLACK-

He blocked it as well... I wonder if he feels what I felt? Her head tilting slightly in curiosity as she watched with rosé eyes, the events of the previous bout had been mirrored by the most recent round, though the astonished gasps from their audience did not come about as it had done before. Wooden sword met wooden sword, Suriko easily parrying the blow, but what he felt from it was what she was most curious about. She dared not ask, however, fearing disappointment. One thing she did notice, however, was the lack of return vibrations travelling through the steely strings and back into her body. Unlike the last time, where she had been defending, there were little to no tremors...

~~~~~

"It does... But, truthfully, it doesn't make me approving," Egon replied, stating his personal dissatisfaction and queries about her work. Still, Doctor Josephine Rodin was not the type to take negative words in a negative light, her cheerful smile never ceasing to vanish from her childish face as she listened to what the cyborg had to say. Now, she could see exactly where he was coming from, but it seemed to her as if he was missing some of the point. His companion, however, was more than willing to smack him around a bit, provoking a brief puffing of the cheeks and stifled frown from the small scientist. She disliked violence, especially the excessive kind, but she kept quiet as the two bickered.

"Self-awareness is almost impossible to replicate, though I will admit, it was something I was working towards. However, necessity takes precedence over ideals such as those, so that project has been put on hold. As for piloting a Pastor? That is not necessary. They are programmed thoroughly enough to understand what they need to do, and when to do it, even without human guidance. Besides," the scientist chuckled, "I've been working with machines since I was a child, so I know my stuff!"

"I was wondering if you might be able to provide some assistance with this?" Having broken up the awkward situation, or perhaps made it a little more awkward, Doctor Toctic soon lightened the situation with some scientific talk. His little explanation of electronic brains, of course, made her giggle with delight and understanding. Still, accepting the folder, Rodin started to browse through it. Blue eyes quickly scanned every little detail, the likes of which it seemed the lanky Longarm was very good at keeping detailed and concise - a gift that many could never perfect. However, with every detail came questions and answers, many of the former she already knew the answer to, but the latter provided her with other questions to ask. The typical cycle of scientific theories.

"So. I understand what you are trying to do, Doctor Toctic, with this 'Genius Loci Initiative'. However, I can tell you exactly why it is that so many other scientists have failed where I have managed to succeed. I suppose," continued Josephine, "you are curious as to what I mean? Among other things. In which case, I will have to explain. PZ-01. Come here, please."

Within a matter of seconds of her call, the robotic entity had turned about and was already beginning to walk steadily from the firing range and towards the source of the summons. White plating marked with black stripes, the glimmer of clean chrome and the neutral light that shone from behind the glass panel of its face gave it a distinctly unique look. Entirely mechanical it may have been, but the way it walked and the shape it had made the Pastor look almost like a tiger, metal feet clicking against the floor as it moved. Standing beside her, and nearly as tall at the shoulder as its creator was in full, the artificial entity waited patiently for further orders. Popping out a screwdriver from her pocket, the petite inventor carefully took out a couple of screws from beneath the machine's head, then another pair - each one from behind where its ears would have been had it been an actual animal - which she then handed to one of her co-workers. Carefully, she prised off the upper casing, and then the lower, to reveal the complexity of the synthetic head. The Pastor itself remained perfectly immobile, save for the distinct low purring from the engine within its body, as it knew it was in no danger.

"As you can see," Rodin began to explain, climbing onto a chair brought by a fellow scientist and using it to provide some much needed height. With the screwdriver's head, she pointed towards the strange assortment of grey-green blocks that had been arranged to look like a puzzle cube, each no more than an inch or two in dimension. They were covered by a sheet of thin metal which she gently eased forward with the screwdriver. "This is the 'brain' of the Pastor. I know, it does not look like much, but this is what makes them tick. As I said before, the Pastor brains are fully electronic, unlike cyborgs who have organic brains which are then conditioned. The reason nobody has ever been able to make anything like this before, is because it is physically impossible to make technology on such a small scale. Microscopic circuits, hundreds of them, exist within each section of this artificial brain.

"No, it cannot replicate a human brain - those are far more complex than our technology will ever be. Only Doctor Vegapunk himself has any hope of replicating that, and I am not even sure he can do it. The reason I can make technology so small is because of my ability." Closing the brain case of her robotic law enforcer, Rodin handed the screwdriver to one of her assistants who (along with another) quickly proceeded to put the Pastor's head back together again.

"I ate the Chima Chima no Mi. That made me, in all aspects," the diminutive damsel gestured to herself, "a Compact Human. I can compress things down to a fraction of their original size, turning them into cubes and other three-dimensional geometric shapes. Some objects, such as the circuit blocks used in Pastors, retain their function when compressed, but most objects do not because of having their shape adjusted. Each cube inside PZ-01's head, when decompressed, is about the same size as... Wermengard's office, perhaps? I actually have the boards being prepared for PZ-14 as we speak.

"Still, Doctor Toctic," Rodin ended, "I can easily replicate a Pastor brain in a matter of weeks, but completing something as complex as your 'GLI' could take several months. Yes, a Pastor can communicate with others in a similar manner to Den Den Mushi, but I have so far only been able to replicate the range of a Baby Den Den Mushi. I am willing to assist, but it could take some time..."

SPOILER: Click to show

So much writing... So much speech... Anyway, hope this works out okay!

[Roin]

Despite the bit of hitting between them, it was clear that Egon hadn't been bothered by the exchange with Ida. Sadly, she seemed to miss out on the tiny woman's explanation while she returned to testing the arm. Aside from the weird comment that she had been working since she was a child... Egon had to give the little one some credit. Working from youth didn't ensure the safety of technology, but there wasn't any room to question it further. A quick intercept had started a conversation between Flynn and the woman, the one-armed man quietly sighing before turning and starting off. Having so many mechanical limbs was a pain... but the man didn't trust any sort of pure-machine being, regardless of the hands it was in.

Reaching the testing table Ida had set-up at once more, Egon simply took the new arm and put on a frown to meet her immediate look of disapproval. The result was the more stern man winning out... Ida finally sighing and frowning.

"You big lug... you need to be careful of how you talk to others..."

A click and hiss was all it took to know Egon had reattached the arm... but the man turned his gaze toward the other duo rather than make eye contact for much longer with Ida.

"I know. I'm not trying to be confrontational, simply truthful. I don't know these people that much... for a while, the Marines didn't even have me with people of similar technology. But being here now... I can only try to see that these smarter and more powerful figures hear all sides of the conversation."

A small punch to the hip made Egon grumble, but Ida had put on a smile once more. The large man was difficult at times, but the iron giant wasn't doing it to start some war-like debate. Egon knew full well that experiments could go wrong... the core inside his chest had been a ticking time-bomb long ago. If not for the Professor, it was quite likely that the failed experiment of Ida's father would have killed him... instead, the experiment was contained and improved to the point it could power the truthful cyborg in battle. Giving the new arm a test cycle, the various gaps and nozzles of the arm hissing and releasing puffs of steam to ensure that it was still working. It'd need a bit of fine-tuning... but Wahrheit was done with the firing range.

Leaving Ida to both watch the duo and to resume analyzing the results of the tests they were able to complete, Egon passed to the side of the pair as they began discussing the large machine the tiny woman had brought. Analyzing it further would have been cool... but most likely would have just ended up making Egon wish the Marines would allow him to look at blueprints for even cooler weapons. Shotguns and rifles were nice... but if he could get a laser like those Pacifista, then he'd no doubt have a field day thinking up potential output feeds. As is, it was slightly outside of his range of knowledge... such technology had been led at the front by the genius Vegapunk, after all. The only thing Egon could hope was that perhaps Ida's father and various other experienced lab-rats could make time someday to explain further levels of technology.

As all this bounced around in Egon's head, the man had quickly reached a proper testing area for the new arm. The cyborg had reached the gym... and it took only a moment to roll his new arm's shoulder once more. It was weight... and to really work out, he'd need to ensure that nothing got in the way. So, right there in the hall with a few marines walking around... Egon pulled his top half's clothing off. Considering the man had been rather lacking in clothing when they found him, it'd probably come off like some sort of fetish... but this was more to ensure the efficient testing of the new arm. Naked pleasure wasn't Wahrheit's game.

Entering the gym, his clothes bundled in the crook of his human arm, the man was met with an interesting sight that stopped him immediately. A puppet, being controlled by the woman from before, was going toe-to-toe with the same man who'd saved Egon on the street. Rather than interrupt, the shirtless man simply sighed and tossed the bundle of clothes onto a nearby bench. Not having the main section of the floor sucked... but as he edged along the outside of the room, the man moved to sit down at the end of the bench, right beside a table covered with plenty of cups of water. Moving his human hand to tap the plate on his chest, quietly observing the fight, the steam-powered cyborg began taking cups in the new arm... and quietly pouring the water within them directly into his steam core. As the core whirled to life, the additional water restoring some of the lost amount during the testing, Egon finally spoke up loud enough for everyone in the gym to hear.

"Better not lose to her, Ensign Suriko! Truthfully, I might have to punch you if her puppet is too much of a challenge! It'd be unfitting for a Seaman Recruit to punch you, right!?"

With his core exposed through the open panel on his chest, the new arm, and the lack of anything on his torso... Egon looked far more machine than human. The fact that he had scars covering his back and near the surgical "joint" that linked his mechanical arm only made it more likely that the entirety of Egon was machine. That, however... wasn't important. The only thing that was, currently, was watching the fight between these two and getting his core refilled. Even if the truthful Marine didn't know them well... these were going to be two of his stronger comrades, perhaps even rivals.

[Deleted]

(So, this took a long god damn time to get around to, but I finally have the holy trio of muse, time, and having actually frigging slept some time in the past 24 to 36 hours for longer than 30 minutes, IE my lunch break. Yes, this will be brief, but I'm making an effort to have Flynn pull back from the main "Story" for a bit, so I can be skipped more easily if need be.)

 Devil Fruits. It was always Devil Fruits, wasn't it. Flynn looked... odd. It seemed like he was trying to grin at the sight of the enormously complicated mechanical brain, and scowl at the fact that without a bloody Devil Fruit, it was impossible to build. Those blocks had been the size of Weremengard's office? It was sort of hard to fathom, but as he examined the contours, he realized she was likely telling the truth. Nobody could make circuits that small and precise. Resisting the urge to poke it, he motioned for the assistant to close it back up. "Wouldn't want to damage that. A mind is a terrible thing to have to rebuild." It was a bit unnerving how his tone implied he was speaking from experience.

 Brightening up a bit, he turned to Rodin, scratching his chin. This certainly eclipsed the nonsense with his brother. "I would appreciate the assistance, true. I'm a tad hesitant to ask for you to undertake such a project without some form of give and take occurring however." Spreading his hands wide, he adopted his "Explanation" stance. "The Pastors are quite impressive, especially mentally. Cazadors are dependent on a human brain, and given it requires a seriously wounded marine to volunteer, the numbers are understandably limited." Flipping through one of the piles of papers, Flynn checked the notes.

 "To be precise, as of right now, we have almost completed the initial run of Cazadors. 600 units, CX-001 through CX-600, with myself standing as the prototype, CX-0. We have had a 99% success rate with conversions..." He paused, frowning. "Wait, that seems... wrong. I don't recall anyone dying on the operating table..." There was more frantic flipping, and he paused, brows furrowed. "Why would i- Oh, right." Sighing, he read the passage of the report aloud. "The one failure was the attempted conversion to CX-404, who refused to disrobe. Upon a full inspection, it was revealed that he was, in fact, 3 Dwarves in a rather complicated puppet pretending to be human. Said Dwarves have since been offered positions in Project Cazador." 

 Rubbing his forehead, the doctor said nothing for a good minute or so, contemplating what he had just said. "I'm... glad it was not some potential issue, but... 3 dwarves in a human suit? I guess it explains why he wore so much clothing and spoke funny. " Shrugging, he turned back. "Anyway, the Cazadors are produced from baseline humans, usually those around Ensign class, though there is some variance. Their designs are also intended so that they can be "Decommissioned" if necessary." Holding out a blueprint, he tapped the center of the page. The image depicted a normal looking human in outline. However, it was clear that the arms and legs, along with some internals, were mechanical. All in all, however, the person would likely appear fairly normal, especially if they wore long sleeves. 

 "I suppose retire would be a better word, actually. When a unit is pulled from duty, we removed the combat upgrades, close some of the holes, and downgrade them to a civilian chassis." Dusting his hands, Flynn looked quite pleased with himself. A few of the marines further down the range were staring, seeming rather shocked by this. Glancing down, he frowned at them. "Did you honestly expect us to be forcing marines to look like that forever? Contrary to popular belief, you CAN retire from the marines in a manner besides death." Shaking his head, he looked over at the petite researcher. "Well, anyway. I'm going to go check on the Avernus and the work on it's two gunboats. Feel free to come along, should you so choose." 

 Tipping his sunhat momentarily, Flynn turned, and headed out the door, passing a few people carrying a very large crate marked "Cryogenic tech, do not set on fire." Beneath that was a note, stapled on, saying "Phil, for the last god damn time, stop stealing our parts to work on that coldthrower. Get your own." Following them down a short set of steps, the scientist entered the cavernous hall that housed The Spire's shipyard. It wasn't large, containing only three bays, one of them quite a bit larger and designed specially for the Avernus. There were workers scurrying all over it, checking the ship over and repairing the slight dents from the firearms during this mission. 

 In the other two bays, a pair of nearly identical ships were being completed. The sleeker ships were designed with speed in mind, thinner and longer, with the backs possessing a pair of circular turbines much like the Avernus's own. The ports along the sides were being stocked with guns, the cannons secured and checked. The lack of masts had prevented the typical Marine sails from being flown, but a flag was being sent up the flagpole on the back, and the marine seagull was plain to see on the sides. Flynn smiled, checking a note on his list. "The Tindalos Gunships seem almost ready for deployment. Hopefully the advantage of having a quicker, meaner ship will aid in some of the ship-to-ship combat issues being seen on the Line." Turning about, the cyborg began to move down the stairs, pausing as a marine recruit stuck his head in the doorway, babbling for a frantic moment, before dashing off. It took a second to process the announcement, but when he did... "Mari and Suriko are doing WHAT?"