Silver Lining In the Clouds (Gaz/ Roin/ Vio)

[Kami-Gaz]

Thud. “I’m boooored~” Thud. “Soooooo booored!” A monotonal voice said as a goggle woman raised her head from a counter inside of a small reception area to a shipyard. She had been there for three days now with no work and she ran out of tinkering ideas a few hours ago. In short the purple haired girl was bored and with nothing to do. This was a common occurrence for Veera due to the islands struggling economy. One more thud sounded as the woman gently dropped her forehead onto the table “Screw this I’m going to close up!” She shouted in a more human tone, and as she raised her head the facedown position that she had it in. “… I gotta get the legs…” Something was different about this woman, her mouth never moved as she talked; it just stayed in a natural smile. The whole scene would be creepy if anyone were to view it. A second later, she started to move out from behind the desk, but again something was strange there were no footsteps but some strange slithering sliding noise that a snake would make as it moved. Once the woman came out from behind the counter it was revealed that her lower body was a dark deep blue eel body that if looked at in the wrong light would look black.

Across the reception there was a large golden coloured contraption that looked like a mechanical horse body. The frame housed a number of instruments and had everything but a power source, instead it was space for the mermaid to slide her tail into the machine. “Upsie daisy~” was said but again her mouth did not move, her lips stayed sealed into a smile. The woman put her hands on to the sides and in one heaving motion she lifted her upper body and rested some of her tail into the ‘saddle area’ before she slithered forwards and was all the way in. Quickly she leaned back and pulled some straps over her tail to secure it in the machine. A second passed and it rose higher to the point where she was the size of a small horse, her head just able to fit in the room, though she would have to stoop down to go through a door.

Veera moved her right hand down to mess with the controller joystick and as she tilted it forwards the horse like legs moved forwards as well. The metallic clopping sound slowly moved around the room taking Veera to the areas she needed to clean up, whilst she had no ships to work on the strange mermaid would tinker and invent with the odd bits and pieces she had laying around. It was not as fun as it used to be on her adoptive father’s crew but it was still a good way to pass the time. The raised desk that Veera was currently at in the entrance to the dry docking area was cluttered in strange objects and tools that not many people would normally find useful. “These batteries are nearly done… Oh I know I’ll go grab some nickel or silver from the shops.” The mermaid said again without moving her mouth, though there was a small light on the box that was attached to her chocker collar that flickered with every word was said.

Once the things were packed away and the tinker table cleared ready for more inventing the mermaid heard a loud noise and muffled shouts coming from outside of her reception. “What the..? Best to check it out.” She thought, but that thought was not just kept to herself her flickering contraption said her thought allowed for her, though still in a kind and caring toe just as it was earlier. The clopping of her metal horse hooves would move her along the building and out of her front door, though she had to stoop down and go out head first at an awkward angle. As the girl raised her head to look around outside she saw the remainders of a group of marines running into the tight alleyway that was beside her shipyards reception.

A second later one ran out and rounded the corner shouting as he did “I’ll go and get backup!” Once is eyes were off the alleyway the young marine would now see three things before he lost his consciousness. The beautiful steam-punk clothed mermaid named Veera Falcone, then the walker she was using to get around faster and then the dark cloudy sky. Scared by this the mermaid backed up and without moving her mouth shouted in horror at being in the wrong place at the wrong time. “HOLY COWFISH?! Are you okay?!” She leaned down and made her walker get closer to the ground to check the man’s vitals… or give him a small shock to see if he would react. She pressed her un-gloved hand to the man’s chest and there was a pulse of electricity that emanated from her body, as it did the module on her neck screeched and crackled slightly. In reaction, the man’s body jolted and he wheezed in pain. “Ahh he is alive… best go and tell his buddies.” She said again as her hand returned to her joystick and the walking gear rose.

The clopping sound came back as the small horse sized being moved around the body that she accidental knocked out and headed for the alleyway, her eyes already trying to peer around to see what was going on. “Hello? Can I get some help one of your marine buddies ran into me and …. He isn’t moving you might need a doctor!” She said honestly but the box was emitting a tone of surprise that is had happened.

[Roin]

Bump-bump. Click-Click. Power? Check. Systems? Check. Stable Power Test... Complete.

Welcome back to the World, Shinjitsu Akitaki... my son.

---

The incident outside had been started when the two unfortunate Marines had been chasing a boy. With brown hair and rag-like clothes, it was one of the unfortunate souls that had no doubt tried to steal for a living. With a loaf of bread in his arms, each step barely kept him ahead of the Marines chasing after him.

"Come back here you brat!"

"Damn that brat... is fast!"

The kid kept running, ducking into an alley next to the Merwoman's location. As he ran, with his silver-ish eyes looking at the two men as they came barreling after him, he crashed into a pile of garbage. But rather than the soft press of bags, he felt the hard ding of metal and was sent to the ground as the bread fell beside him, the packaging keeping it from rolling through the dirty road. In an instant, the two men were on him, moving to hold the boy down. The poor boy was cursing at them, trying to break free and sending the fatter and out-of-breath man tumbling back into the pile. This time, as he hit it, the larger man's girth knocked free the metal source hiddin within.

Falling to his side, an almost colorless machine man crashed to the road, the faceless head staring away into a distance only a machine could know. The Marine on his feet looked, but he didn't let go of the now kicking yet tired boy. It was clear such a machine wasn't from here... so the first reaction was one that anyone could expect as he looked to the fat man.

"What the heck is that?"

"Eh? I don't know. Why you askin' me!?"

"Give it a kick! If it's not a guy in a suit, get it up and give it a shake! It might be one of those playhouse props! Easy money if we return it!"

The man seemed hesitant, but as the fatty got to his feet and turned, he delivered a kick to the machine's torso. The first hit barely rocked the machine, knocking it against the wall. The rattle of ammunition within was thankfully hidden by the fat man's cursing and rubbing of his foot, but the tall and restraining man smirked at the lack of movement. After all, finding something and taking it back was a good way to get some cash! Motioning for the large fellow to lift up the man-like robot, the form of the near colorless Machine came into light so all could see. The sheer level of technology and curves brought all of them, even the struggling lad, to stare at the various technology on the robot. However, giving the robot a shake by the power cables that allow him to charge with the proper machine, the big man let the robot fall to the ground after releasing it.

"What a piece of junk... look at the thing! Hurts my foot and it doesn't even do any-"

Bump-bump. Click-click. 

The sounds echoed loudly through the city, easily heard through the thick walls of the buildings nearby. To the unseasoned and ill-trained Marines, it signaled a sense of worry in the tall one at the idea that their cash-plan had just broke. However, a new flickering filled the alley as the machine man powered on, his lighting flashing on and off as power tried to resume flowing. It was only as the fatter of the pair walked backward, collapsing into the trash, that another series of noises went off. From the bags, various weapons spilled out, the fat man giving an audible gasp of shock. Before the pair could even blame the kid, however, all three of them were given the most cruel shock yet, because the machine was "alive".

"U-Unhand th-th-th-the... ch-child!"

As the machine rose, the light from the morning sun at least clipped the top of the nearby rooftops, filling just enough to send a ray of light cascading over him. As if he had been reborn, the machine's markings came into view. ZOM-8, glistening and printed onto his thigh, gave the fat man enough time to panic. It was well known that machinery had escaped a so-called lunatic's lab in the Grand Line. The man, once known as Professor Shinjitsu before being forced into labor for the World Government until his death, had created a line of machines that had been thought hunted down and scrapped. This one, however, the machine shaking its legs and the flickering fading as the kinetic batteries began to gain energy once again, was very real. However, the fat man didn't even think as he cursed and raised a pistol, firing at the machine in fear.

The bullet, passing through the air, appeared only for an instant in Zombie's flickering gaze, the carrier of Akitaki's spirit turning to face it. The bullet, though he made no attempt to dodge, grazed the machine along the head before deflecting, spiraling through the air and into the wall with a thud. Even as the bullet fell, the trio of living people all staring in fear with mouths agape, Zombie was analyzing the situation quickly. His power levels had fallen dangerous, thankfully rebooted by someone shaking his body to some degree to gain power. Batteries inside of his body were old and no doubt in need of replacing... but if they functioned then it was all he needed. Turning and moving toward the man who had shot at him, the Marine-in-spirit approached the fool-hardy shooter. The lack of facial features made the approach all the more terrifying, the man firing wildly in defense. Another struck Zombie's arm, another his left, and a final one hit him in the chestplate, dinging away and leaving a dent. With the clicking of the man's weapon in his sensors, Zombie squatted down and retrieved one of the weapons from the nearby pile. The man's fear had given the weapons a cleaning of the wrong kind, the robot shaking his shotgun off before stowing it. All the while, the fat guy seemed to try and think up a way past the robot now blocking him in.

"G-Get it away from me!"

"I'll go and get backup!"

With a tearful nod, the fat fellow watched the slimmer of them toss the child away as the Machine recovered the rest of his weaponry. As he stood, however, the machine made the poor Marine's heart stop. One weapon remained in his hand, Zombie pointing it at the man and making even the boy hold still. The crash of the first man into the centaur down the alley didn't matter... because the machine had raised a gun to a human.

"P-Please, don't kill me! I-I'm a good guy!"

"..."

"P-Please, noooo~!"

Click-click-click-click-click. The five clicks sounded loud enough that the fat man began to scream in the sheer idea he had been shot, rolling away and scrambling around the machine as fast as he could. The boy, who had been in the way, was knocked flying into the nearby alleyway's wall with a thud, falling to the ground as the man ran. Zombie looked to the gun, his memory returning at last.

"Empty. It's my other one."

Spinning with the grace of another man's skill but with the shake of his mechanical body, the robot holstered the empty pistol and drew the other. Muzzle flash lit up the morning-shade of the alley, the clack of the heavy multi-shot weapon sang the song of death, the shots all hitting with a rather nice grouping in the man's back. The first three no doubt hit bone and stopped, sending the man spinning to his right. The instant he hit a dumpster, Zombie readjusted his aim and straightened his arm, firing two more into the man for good measure. The flashes had ended and their bark only moments after, the smoke drifting around the faceless and now lit Zombie as he slowly walked toward the fallen Marine.

The attack had all taken place the instant the mermaid had turned her gaze toward the alley, Zombie moving the rest of the distance until he stopped before the rather still Marine and the child on the ground nearby. The now-empty pistol still in hand and smoking from its fast shooting, the machine at last gave it a careful, single spin before holstering it away. It was only with the man still that Zombie lowered to the ground, his faceless head fixed toward the boy in front of him. Carefully reaching a hand to the boy's back, Zombie turned the boy over and onto his back.

"Truthfully... I am sorry... that I am not the Marine you need. Father would... be sad to know I could not keep you safe from scenes such as this."

The boy was alive, that much was visible as Akitaki put a hand to the boy's chest. A solid heart-rate made him hopeful... and years of seeing similar wounds among his fellow Marines made it clear that the boy had just been shook up from being thrown. Trauma of a somewhat unpredictable variety... but such children of the street and of poor living had such issues. Carefully looking to the nearby bread, the Machine at last understood what had happened before his awakening. While he had acted in defense to harm the man that had been shooting at him, these Marine thugs had likely been after the lad for some petty or childish crime. An act of survival and one that such action shouldn't have been taken. Carefully putting a cold hand to the boy's forehead, he took the lad's temperature as he turned his vision toward the scene at the end of the alley.

"You... are you with these fools? Do you plan... to harm this boy or myself?"

[Vio]

The Silver Islands were rather aptly named, as Bassanio Rosencrantz had discovered after arriving aboard a public ferry just the day before, but the apparent abundance of the namesake metal at the island’s heart did not concern him all that much. What did concern him was the presence of the Marines, and not because he was a pirate at all. Really, he was nothing more than a civilian of the South Blue – a travelling chef who made his living from his ever-perfecting cooking skills that could put some of the world’s top chefs to shame. His distaste for the Marines was not at all his fault, really; brought about by the incidents of his recent past. As much as he wished he could approach them and ask for their assistance in resolving the debt that hung over his head like the blade of a guillotine, he knew he could not, for that would only serve to make his life even more of a misery. Indeed, the presence of the World Navy upon this island was unnerving, the risk of him being spotted with them by any of Proteus’ henchmen far too much of a burden for him. But he had no choice. He could not afford a vessel of his own at present, nor did he have the money spare to take a ferry to another island for a while.

Such a nuisance you are, but you mean well, Bassanio said silently as he watched a passing law enforcer stroll by on his patrol. The suited chef himself was currently searching for a good place to set up shop, perhaps a restaurant of decent standing to which he could offer his services and earn some solid pay, but was so far having little luck. Most businesses of the sort in this quarter of the island weren’t taking on fresh staff, didn’t want an unknown quantity working for them without an extensive and excessive background check, or simply were of too low quality for him to waste his time with them. Even if he could bring a small restaurant up to scratch with his skills and experience, such a feat would take several long and gruelling months, and he was sure that Proteus’ men would catch up to him if he lingered for too long. Even if he was skilled enough with a sword to defend himself against those thugs, such a ruckus would surely attract the eyes of the Marines, which would not sit well in the eyes of his malignant overseer.

“Get that kid!” In less than thirty seconds since crossing paths with a patrolling official, Mister Rosencrantz’s day suddenly turned from average to bizarre, events turned by the shout of another man dressed in white and blue. A man who, as far as the cook was concerned, needed a drastic change in his dietary habits was accompanied by two others as they pursued a fleeing shadow down the street and towards an alley. A small child, so he identified, clutching something in his arms.

Now, coming from Platform Island, he knew full well that large cities like these were not without crime. In fact, cramped communities often saw a surprising rise in criminal activity, often afflicted upon the populace due to such reasons as social standing, clashes of ideals and general lack of law and order. Hoodlums and rambunctious youths had been responsible for much graffiti back on Platform’s ‘The Middle’ and, while policing efforts by the Royal Guard had made drastic improvements, the streets were hardly going to become that perfect haven. Silver Island was much the same but, for the sake of distracting himself, Bassanio halted his slow walk and observed the situation from afar. And what he saw, he was not too fond of.

“Tch…” Though his glimpse of the fleeing boy was brief, it was more than enough for those chalky violet eyes of his to take note of a rather defining feature. That child was malnourished, or at least far hungrier than any child should ever have to be, the signs of his drawn skin and thin form as plain as day. And, seeing such a sight, it was not too long before the man in suit of white and shirt of blue sent himself on something of a guilt trip. As a chef (and a skilled one at that) it was only natural that he would charge appropriately for the dishes he whipped up, from finest steak cuts to lightest seafood salads, but a part of him struggled with that ideal. Despite his growing need for income of great scale, there was a side of the chef that the sight of starvation and need could not help but tap into, bringing forth the charitable nature of his heart. That child needed a meal, most certainly, so perhaps he had stolen something to sate his hunger. Stealing was a crime, of course, but in Bassanio’s eyes so too was letting someone die of starvation. He knew what hunger was, despite never matching the suffrage of the less privileged, for he had often declined meals and the growl of his own stomach for the sake of his craft.

I wish I could help that child, but if I’m seen with the Marines, then… Worries flooded his mind as he stood there in the midst of the concrete streets, occasionally stepping around the odd bits of traffic that meandered through this part of town. Were the risks worth it? While saving the youth from the consequences of his thievery was not within his sphere of influence, the serene swordsman could at least keep the wolf from the door and treat the lad to a small meal before his punishment came. Then again, standing in the way of the Marines could end up tossing him from the frying pan and into the fire, his intrusion likely to be seen as opposition to justice. Justice was all well and good, of course. He had nothing against people doing what was right by the world and being appropriately punished for their wrongdoings. But was it right that three grown men were in hot pursuit of a weak and hungry street kid just trying to get by?

“No,” he muttered aloud, thoughts drowning the loud noises that emanated from the alley down which the boy and his pursuers had ran. Bassanio had made up his mind, for good reason, and only know had he realised a potential benefit from confronting the law enforcers of the World Government. If Proteus did not want him involving the Marines in their little ‘dispute’, then what better way was there to secure that promise than to defy the law? As much as it pained him to do such a thing, the most overwhelming feeling right now was the pain he felt for that child, accelerating into a brisk walk for the alley’s mouth…

SPOILER: Click to show

Alright, I hope this will do. I kind of want Bassanio to be caught at the tail end of all this, forcing his decision, hence why I haven't thrown him into the altercation straight off the bat.

Bassanio Rosencrantz (abcdef)

[Kami-Gaz]

SPOILER: Click to show

The sounds of gunshots were the first thing to greet the mermaid as she walked around the corner, her earlier statement getting lost amongst the sounds of small-contained explosions and screams of agony and death. Moments later when the body was finally on the floor more shots were fired and with each one the mermaid jolted and jumped, the last time she heard gunshots was when she lost her last family and the muzzle flashes and loud bangs sent images of her past into her mind. The increased electrical activity coming from her made the small box on her collar crackle and squeak and it only stopped when she was snapped out of her thoughts by the man, the thing that did the shooting.

"You... are you with these fools? Do you plan... to harm this boy or myself?"
He looked human enough but his face was gone? his chest had the marks from where he was shot but no puncture, no entry wounds... this man was not a man she had seen before.
The mermaids eyes focused on what was speaking and the question she was asked and shook her head and raised her hands. “No… I own the shipyard…” Veera pressed her hand to the building she just came out off before carrying on. “Bring him in, I can hide you. Just no more killing, okay? I am not with the marines, if I were, I would have shot you by now… And besides do you think a mermaid would ever want to be with the marines?” She asked in a soft voice, trying to calm the situation. Marines to this girl were bad, but people who killed them in such an over the top manner had the potential to be far worse. As she slowly moved her hand down to the controller joystick Veera would start to think, and these thoughts were broadcast out of her little box “I hope this kid’s safe at least, after that I’ll figure out who this is.” The thoughts echoed around the area and drowned out the sounds of Veera’s box crackling again with all of her thoughts rushing through it at once.

She turned around and left the large back open for the kid to be placed on so the robot could follow. “This other one will wake up soon, he’ll report this, so I’ll hide you and make sure the kid is okay before they come and try and haul me off.” The woman said thinking that knocking him out was enough to get her attention. She said this, though without moving her lips much like the robot that she was trying to help, the only difference between them was that she had a face and he did not. However, this was not the time for her to be freaked out or having a fan fit over the fact he was a robot. At the moment she just hoped this man, robot thing would just follow her.

Though the woman did let a few of her thoughts slip once she had stooped her head low enough to get it inside of the door to her large empty workshop. The main reception area was clean t had a few bits of wood made into chairs for a waiting area and there was a desk for Veera to go behind, there was a room visible in back that had a single ship docked in it, ready to go to sea. “He’s got to be a super advanced robot like Pappa Palchi raved on about… he has to be!” A smile appeared onto her face as the realisation swept across her face. “When this is over can I take a look at you? I mean to learn… okay maybe I want to tinker… just a little bit.” Her voice box rang, a disturbing smile over her face as she playfully trotted around the large and empty workshop, with the unconscious boy on her back still. She was too exited to wait for the answer and didn’t exactly know what to do now, see if the boy was okay? See if the robot was okay? Maybe he wanted something to eat… no no, that was too silly he probably does not need to eat, maybe he needed some lubrication oil on his joints… that was a more realistic answer the Mermaid thought up of.

Veera did not really have a proper bed for herself, she used a very oversized pit that was filled with lots and lots of blankets, it was more than enough to let the child rest on as she figured out what to do with the robot man. The mermaid’s room was behind the docked ship far from the reception they had entered through and hidden enough to avoid initial suspicion. She first undid the latches and then slithered free of her walker before picking the boy up in her arms and lacing him in the massive pile of blankets and pillows. “There there, everything will be fine when you wake up… the bad guys are gone, Mr Robot sent them away~” her voice box sang in a childish tone to help ease the young boy. She recognised he was malnourished and frowned that he had gotten so bad. She frowned at the fact the marines were going to punish him for trying to survive.

Once Veera was back in her walker, she turned her attention to the robot. “Why did you kill without a second thought?” She asked, the voice coming from the box deeper, yet still feminine it was like a mother telling off her children. As each word came from her mouth her walker moved making heavy metallic clopping sounds each time. “You could have shot between his feet and scared him away… why did you kill him?” Veera was against unneeded deaths, even for marines, unless they had a real reason to die.

[Roin]

The strange woman had seemingly ensured she was no Marine and not there to hurt either of the two. With how strange she was, most people would be wary of her, but Zombie saw something else. With a lack of any sort of face, the cameras and sensory systems were portraying the person in front of him differently than most humans. Her bio-electric charge was noticeably stronger, traced with signs of near-constant exposure to high amounts of electricity... which as she mentioned she was a shipwright meant one thing. It was quite possible the woman, with a lower, robotic horse body... was a cyborg.

As she turned and put her back to him, the box casting speech, the machine had yet to move. It was all strange, how this person acted and seemed to speak. The voice was... not true, as similar to his own. They were imitations, to put it in better words, but such things weren't worth worrying about as Akitaki made up his mind. Carefully scooping the child up, he would rise and place the child with the woman. With her trotting and taking the lead, Zombie stood in the alley for only the briefest of moments to look to the bloodied sight hidden from the street-proper by the dumpster. Click-click was the only noise to respond to the sight, the machine turning and following along and past the still unconscious Marine to not fall behind. While Veera had slipped inside quickly, the machine was slow in his pace to the point that the man rushing to the scene would get a good look at the faceless humanoid.

Once the two walked inside, the room large and drawing his attention as the woman spoke. Her questions and statements received no responses yet, the Machine closing the door softly and looking around. As he made his way to follow along, though at a far slower pace, the man seemed to be analyzing the furniture, the room's size, and just about everything in there. His robotic nature marked and remembered each chair, the position of loose tools, even the doorway and a quick analysis report of the ship. While he was low on power, the slow pace built to focus on drawing as much energy from his movement as possible, the machine was simply trying to figure out everything he could for when the others came looking for him.

At last, Veera had returned without the child, Zombie standing in the middle of the room and turning his gaze to meet her. Not having something similar to true eyes was certainly strange, but it had its benefits when sniping. However, it was still ineffective with having to try and mix the various views to make a more "real" picture of what lay before you. All of this didn't matter, however, as the woman came forward and asked a question most would ask. It was a good one, why he had taken that man's life, but it was one that the machine answered without any hesitation.

"Because that man cared nothing for the boy's life... and had attempted to damage and "kill" myself. Truthfully... it was the only way he was going to be leaving that alley. Life is special until once chooses to devalue it, even in the pursuit of justice."

Quietly turning, Zombie started walking... but rather than sit in the chair he strode toward, the machine turned and began to walk along the wall. It might have appeared strange, but the whirl of gears and machinery slowed as it became more fluid with proper powering. To any trained scientist, even in these more primitive seas, it would become obvious that it was an attempt to charge his body. However, Zombie had yet to remain quiet as he moved a hand to the dents spotting his chestplate.

"I am-... was a Marine. Before I was given new life as a machine. The penalty for incompetence and endangering the innocent... I gladly took the executioner's role and put him down as he deserved. The Captain that trained me once said that a Marine should see to all people of a town... even the runts like that boy. The child had no fever... but had I not interfered, they would have taken his life over a loaf of bread."

With each step, the machine became far less slow and "chunky" in his movements, the arms and legs bending more human-like with the first lap around the room alone. It was only as he neared the original position in the room that Zombie came to a halt, turning to face the doorway to the ship. While it was hard to tell from his position, it didn't seem as if this woman had the abilities to make it. In actuality, it seemed more like she was interested in machinery such as his body. It was possible she could assist in repairing him... but even if she had chosen to hide Akitaki and the boy from search parties it was hard to trust the very first person he came across. It would take a very careful touch to ensure that she didn't get carried away or try to expose his weakened state.

"If you have a first aid kit here, I will... offer you a trade. I am in need of proper batteries to replace my damaged ones. If you fashion them and find me the kit so I can prepare a proper doctor's kit to replace... my lost one, I shall give you the chance to repair my plating. I cannot allow you, however, to open me up. I do not... trust you with my father's work. If not for him, I would not have lasted this long... and the man was one of the greatest scientists in the employ of the World Government. So, in short... truthfully, if you help me, I shall let you take a look... nothing more."

Carefully and slowly reaching for his hip, the robot carefully grabbed his right pistol, leaving it holstered for the moment. The reminder of having fired all of his bullets had brought the machine-man to a rather... direct request only a moment after the initial offer of exchange.

"I also require ammunition. I do not plan to shoot anyone else... but if they come here, I would like to keep my internal stores somewhat stocked in an emergency... though I understand if that is too much. If you do not want to store a "murderer" like myself, then I will gladly evacuate the building for both the child's safety and your request."

[Vio]

The sound of a gun being fired was no deterrent, but a rather a spark to further light the flame that burned within Bassanio Rosencrantz’ heart. Had the Marines shot an innocent child for something as trivial as stealing a loaf of bread, he dreaded to question, his pace hastening hesitantly as the neared the alley’s mouth. Yet more bullets had been discharged, the bitter tang of black powder stinging the chef’s sensitive nostrils long before he even reached the passage. By the time he did get there, he halted a few yards short and listened, voices discussing something just a little out of earshot. Indeed, while his nose possessed sensory aptitude superior to that of the masses, his ears were little more than average. It did not help him at all that the firing of guns had left a faint ringing in his ears, though he could only imagine how much more intense such a sound was to the boy caught in all the mess.

What on Earth…? No sooner had he reached the alleyway than a rather ragtag group had emerged from it, waltzing off in the opposite direction and towards the shipyard establishment that had become something of a landmark. Indeed, the building itself formed one side of the alleyway, its entrance nestled quite comfortably against the corner and just slightly out of view of the public. However, the building they were entering was not the most amazing sight, but rather the people themselves – if they could even be considered as people. A woman walking upon mechanical legs, similar in appearance to those mythical beasts called Centaurs, entered the shipyard with the child upon her back, and in their wake walked an altogether more alien individual. A humanoid entity; like some sort of skeleton clad in armour and devoid of any truly anthropomorphic features. Never before had the duellist seen anything like them – anything like it – and the sight made his blood run cold.

“What… was that?” Bassanio asked himself at a whisper, finally regaining his composure before peering into the alley proper. Just as well that he did, too, for the sight his eyes locked upon was not a pretty one. His stomach steeled by years of cooking with all manner of ingredients, the sight of a bloodied corpse did not faze him anywhere near as much as it should have, but it was nonetheless a disturbing scene to behold. Which of them had inflicted such injury upon an honest – if that was even the case – law enforcer? He was sure the culprit would end up paying with their own life, for while his knowledge of the current naval regime was relatively lacking, he at least understood that cold-blooded killers were typically executed. Speaking of which, when was the last public execution? The only one that really stood to mind was the legendary execution of the Pirate King, Gold Roger.

I shouldn’t dwell on this… That boy’s health is more important to me, anyway! Turning about with renewed vigour and determination, Mister Rosencrantz covered the last few yards between himself and the shipbuilder’s place, pausing at the doorstep before rapping his knuckles upon the door. There was no answer, but there was also no indication that the door was locked. Not really caring for whether or not the owner wanted any additional company, being more concerned about a child’s wellbeing that his own, the suited chef reached down and grabbed the handle, pushing the door open and walking inside. Making sure to close the door behind him, merely for the sake of proper etiquette, he looked around.

“Rather small for a shipyard, I suppose,” he muttered, taking in the sights of the place. It was hardly a large establishment built upon decades of history and success, but a quaint little business that had likely emerged more recently and was still in its fledgling stages; something he could appreciate as a businessman. Admittedly, he had received a head start thanks to his parentage, but his own successes had been a driving factor in the growth of the Rosencrantz Family Restaurant back on Platform Island. Reminiscing somewhat, he sighed solemnly, aware that those days were long behind him. Trying not to feel down about things now beyond his immediate control, the curious cook instead ventured slowly along, taking note of the numerous little features as he approached the familiar physiques further in. Now that he got a better look at them, he was free to make a better assessment.

The first was a woman – that much was obvious – possessed of an attractive hourglass figure and a level of beauty that most men would consider angelic, save for Bassanio himself; he never had been a fan of that body shape, despite it being a show of good health. Locks of violet were cut short and neat, framing the face, while eyes of electric blue seemed to crackle with energy abundant. This was the very same woman who walked upon mechanical legs, the Centaur-like nature being unlike anything ever seen by the cook. It was only as he stepped closer still that he realised the distinct lack of legs, from waist down being replaced by an almost serpentine form that screamed of creatures of mythos – a mermaid. These were creatures purported to lure seafarers to their doom by some, or to be blessed spirits of the sea by others, and yet here was an ‘in the scales’ (so to speak) example of such legends walking around on dry land. Yes, he’d seen Fishmen before, though never a member of their sister race.

The second ‘person’ was, however, the most frightening to look at. A man-sized monster standing just a few inches shorter than Rosencrantz himself, the entity – which was currently discussing business with its Piscean partner – was so much less human. Yes, it seemed to walk and talk as if it was a living, breathing person, but it was most definitely no such thing. Comprised of unusual plating and material, not a single stretch of real skin was upon it, and its visage was utterly phantasmal! A blank ‘face’ illuminated by lights internal, with a loose cascade of glowing cords that vaguely resembled hair stretching out behind, there was not a thing that the swordsman had ever seen or heard of to explain it. Covered in scratched silver-white plates, stretches of dirty black fabric, dull orange luminescence; all features utterly alien to life that he knew of. Was this thing even ‘alive’ by any sense of the word? And why was there now the distinct scent of ink in the air?

“I beg your pardon, ma’am… ‘sir’,” Bassanio announced after clearing his throat just loud enough to draw their attention, “I have reason to believe that there is a malnourished child present within this establishment. I cannot turn a blind eye to a starving person – especially not a child…”

[Kami-Gaz]

Veera stood perfectly still as the featureless robot paced and answered her, to her his reasoning was too blunt, there were ways to diffuse that situation without violence and she had already highlighted one. The Marine death was only going to apply a lot more pressure to her already strained relationship with the local marine presence. The fact that this robot was a former marine explained his quickness to turn to violence perfectly in the mermaids eyes. Veera did not respond until the after the robot made his proposition. The proposition to give him batteries and ammunition for his weapons in exchange for the honour of repairing his casing, while it was a rare chance to take a look at someone else’s handy work. The frowning mermaid only tilted her walking joystick forwards slightly, making the heavy metal frame move forwards slowly with the metallic clopping noise being spread out. As she got to the robot, her hand moved from the joystick to a storage container. “I have one spare battery in the walker; I need some zinc to make the connectors for the other battery… I am sure I can salvage that from your old ones. Hell I’ll even charge it up for you myself.” Her voice box chimed as her hand fiddled about in a compartment on the side of the frame and then produced a battery of a decent size.

This was when she noticed the new customer, after he announced his presence; her face went from being a deep frown to a large smile, followed by the unnatural occurrence of a female voice coming from her little box on her collar. “I’m sorry sir but I’m closed for the afterno-”

“I have reason to believe that there is a malnourished child present within this establishment. I cannot turn a blind eye to a starving person – especially not a child…”

She was cut off by the reason that he was here; he was here for the kid? Was he a marine… no he was a kind-hearted stranger? Either way if he can feed the kid that would be good, all veera had to eat was fish though and maybe a few vegetables to go with it.. “You want to feed him? What’s your name? I’m Veera Falcone.” Veera chimed, forgetting about the robot she was dealing with. The man reminded the woman of her adoptive fathers cook back when she was on his pirate crew, The Falcone Pirates. He was the man who could cook anything and make it taste good. The mermaid lowered her protective guard around the kid and decided it may be for the best that someone else looked after him.

“Sure… go through the back at the back of the workshop is a small apartment I live in, the kid is in my bed.” The mermaid said before quickly adjusting her walker so she could face this new person. “The kitchen is in there too, sorry I don’t have many things to cook with, though there is a stove.” She said quickly before running through the list of equipment that she owned in her head, “I got the stove, the fridge a few knives and plates… ohhh the empty spice rack” She said, not realising that her thoughts were coming out loud again.

A second passed before she said anything else. “Mr Robot, go to the back room too, I have confiscated some weapons while I’ve been here, and that’s been a while.” The random comment she added on the end was just to cement how long she has been here, and most of that time bored. Veera would lean back and unhook the straps on her walker and carefully slither free as if she was a snake and go along at a lower level to get some things out of her walker gear. “Leave the spare battery on the work table that is over there by the dry dock.” Her voice box chimed, she was clearly in a better mood and after mulling over the Robots answers to her questions she was somewhat satisfied with him staying to help the child he saved, the fact that the cook was there to make sure the young boy was fed was also a good thing. The mermaid thought they would both keep a wary eye on each other around the child, this way they would be too scared to hurt him in fear of causing a fight.

“I’m definitely going to get hauled off for that one… I did not do anything either! This time…” Veera thought allowed again, as she started to open compartments on the side of her walker gear, pulling out random tools and spare parts to use whilst working on the robots battery. “The one day Gregory decides to be ill some robot appears kills a marine and I will get blamed for it because every marine on the island thinks I’m evil and are looking for a reason to pull me in. GAH! I need to get out of here and have some fun!” She complained loud enough for it to echo into the rest of the indoor shipyard.

SPOILER: Click to show

(Okay so i plan for a few marines to come in and haul Veera off and leave a few in to look for evidence/ wreck her shipyard a bit. That's going to happen towards the end of my next post so you two have time for Zombie and Seabass to Bond before the big rescue.)

[Roin]

"Only one... that may not be sufficient. My batteries were made on one of the most technologically advanced-"

The robot didn't finish, turning quickly as the door was knocked open by the new stranger. Instincts drilled into his original identity had Zombie reach back, the hand gripping the sawn-off shotgun and unslinging it from the waist in a rush. But there was no time to aim it, the man speaking almost immediately. The addressing of the pair had been missed by his quick motion, but the latter was not.

"I have reason to believe that there is a malnourished child present within this establishment. I cannot turn a blind eye to a starving person – especially not a child..."

The rest of the conversation, as it unfolded, turned dull to his senses. Akitaki, the truthful son of a truthful professor, had always been someone to tell the truth. It wasn't an uncontrolled thing, like his father had, but the Shinjitsu still hated to lie. From this belief had spread the type of justice he had enforced in his prior life and had enforced in that alleyway. The Once-Marine shifted to carefully angle the weapon backward and behind him, the locking mechanism along his lower back clicking the shotgun into its rightful spot without any firing done. Even as the two began to talk, the robot had begun to assess the two strangers he had met more... from a scientific angle.

One was a strange girl with technology that seemed more at place in his homeland, with a voicebox conveying her speech and what seemed almost... personal thoughts, perhaps? The walker was akin to technology that powered his limbs, perhaps a bit better due to its lack of human nature, but it was in far better condition than one might expect. These facts alone made it quite possible this woman had the technology to salvage, repair, replace, or perhaps just straight-out upgrade the batter. The possibilities expanded by the moment, only bolstered by the fact that she seemed to handle people exceptionally well. Using her could very much answer a lot of questions for him... and Zombie was bound to get those answers with her being a blabbermouth. Turning his gaze, however, the more scientific assessment of the new arrival would have to wait.

"Mr Robot, go to the back room too, I have confiscated some weapons while I’ve been here, and that’s been a while."

"... Very-"

"Leave the spare battery on the work table that is over there by the dry dock."

The two instructions came so fast that Akitaki had no reason nor time to really respond, letting his response die. The truth was that the machine didn't really have "spare batteries", but rather ran on two at a time, with the other two dead, damaged, or simply not working. As a result, with little more than a glance to confirm the other man's presence, the machine started into the dry dock of the building. With the vessel underwork filling much of the space, it was hard to miss the room. Moving toward the table covered with tools, what he assumed was the work table, the robot slowed to a halt. A hand moved to his torso, sliding away the guard to reveal the handle. With a twist and push of the handle, the robot did one of the few things he knew that defied his humanity... and opened his body. The panel swung open slowly, revealing the mostly empty chambers, tubes, and the air-pressure engine that funneled ammo around within his body. The exit valve near his chest was the only one visible as he reached in toward where one's right lung would be. The unique sight made it hard normally to tell the batteries apart... but of his four batteries, two of them had run out over the course of his escape.

The two batteries powering him now were the newest, one of them flickering on its light read-out, while the other was blacked out. The blacked out had likely taken damage during his reawakening, while the flickering one was representing the charge he had built up so far to power his body. Once again, his systematic mind began to assess what he needed operating and what could be shut off. The obvious thing to keep powered was the recharging mechanisms in his legs, while the other was his standard functions. As he moved down the check list and carefully felt for the ones fastened to his body's frame. The padding and lighting of his body was hard to feel through, but the emulated sensation of the battery surface had Zombie pull it out in an instant. Akitaki carefully began to close the thick panel into his body, looking to the battery in his hand. It had a bullet lodged in it from his original escape of his home island, the testament to the tenacity of the Marines to detain the technology. There were likely a few bullets in his body from the previous shoot-out, the vague memory of one striking his arm somewhat proving it, but they weren't hindering his body.

Placing the battery on the table and at last turning, he started toward what could only be the backroom. It was the furthest in the building that wasn't where the girl had run off to, so it was most likely the location. And as the Living Machine opened the door, the machine immediately verified it in the amount of guns, ammunition, and even larger tools of war. Though rocketry and grenadier equipment would certainly please most men, ZOM-8 moved toward the rifles and smaller arms in the room. The pistols in his arsenal relied in the standard bullets, the rarity of bullets in the Blue compared to the round shot requiring a bit of his systematic view to allocate all the necessary amount. As one hand scooped up the bullets, the other funneled them into one of his funnels. Opposite of a bolt action in sound, the clink-chunk of the bullets being sucked in, sorted, and lined into the proper storage was louder than the shifting of bullets. Halfway between his motions, however, he had a much more solid idea.

With a swing of one arm, the machine knocked a few guns from one of the boxes in the room, the clicking and thudding almost threatening to discharge some ammo. The lack of pops at least ensured his decision was a good one, Zombie removing and placing his four weapons out in front of him before turning and moving to collect more ammo. He would fill up his armory's stocks... and then he would hand-load the weapons. The more he carried with him, the safer he was if a fight broke out with the Marines. If the strange man from before had found them... then it was only a matter of time before reinforcements showed up. And Akitaki wasn't going to allow the woman and the boy to be drawn into this if he had any say in it. This was his mess to bear, even if he wasn't fully rearmed or recharged.

[Vio]

“Mister Rosencrantz – Bassanio Rosencrantz, that is,” the chef responded when asked for his name by the now known presence of Miss Falcone. Considering he was a stranger to them, it was only fitting that he introduced himself properly, and felt somewhat conscientious about the fact that he had failed to do so immediately. Then again, his abrupt entrance and requests had been of top priority as far as he was concerned, and so he cut himself some slack in regards to formalities and upholding a professional look. Right now, he was forsaking his chosen occupation for the sake of somebody in dire need; he would have probably ended up regretting it if not for the fact that he was being allowed to use whatever the mermaid had in regards to rations. However, it did dawn upon him that he would have to pay her back for what he used – unless she decided out of her own charitable heart to forgo it.

“Thank you, Miss Falcone…” Politely leaving the mermaid to her outspoken thoughts, Bassanio ventured into the back rooms of the shipyard, greeted by the sight of a rather plain but homely household. It was of decent size, likely out of necessity for its lone inhabitant’s unusual proportions, and neatly divided into the appropriate sections. Making sure to wipe his feet again on the mat that divided the shipyard from the apartment, the suited chef immediately proceeded to the kitchen – perhaps the only place in a house he could identify the location of without ever having to have set foot in there before. As he walked through, his eyes settled upon the bedroom door, the likes of which had been purposefully left ajar. Inside, curled up and fast asleep on the rather lengthy example of a bed, was the child from before. Getting a closer look at him was revealing of his state of body; sickly and frail from the lack of nutrition he needed as a growing boy. He was probably a year or two older than his skeletal structure stated, bone growth inhibited by lack of sufficient nutrients.

Fortunately, Miss Falcone should have everything necessary here in the kitchen. I’ll use my own tools and supplements, but for ingredients… Knowing what people wanted and what people needed were key parts of being a good cook. While the business side of the caterer was more than happy to abide by the law of taste for those willing to pay for his services, when it came to tending to the needy, his state of mind was entirely different. In the case of the malnourished child, he had taken the time to observe what the ‘patient’ needed in terms of sustenance. Indeed, serving a healthy meal was not too different from what doctors did, but only a masterful chef could cross that boundary line between mere caterer and knowledgeable cook.

Fish, vegetables, essential oils and fats… Perfect! The availability of ingredients may have seemed small to the untrained eye – nothing but chilled fish and a variety of leafy vegetables that most children would probably take offence to having on their plate – but the fact of the matter was that this was everything the child needed to help him advance through his current state. Calcium and vitamin D were essentials to bone development, whilst magnesium and phosphorus as well as natural proteins were all supplements that would help to further strengthen the boy. All of these were found in fish and leafy vegetables, as well as a good deal of iron to help support his development. Sugars were less of a worry, which was a positive – none of the ingredients on hand provided much in the way of that. Still, the chef wasted no time and was quick to get to work, lighting up the stove and letting it settle before setting some water to boil.

Let’s see… I’ll set the vegetables to steam while I fillet the salmon, then I can broil the cuts… It took him less than a minute to find his way around the entirety of the kitchen; such places being a second home to him, and already Mister Rosencrantz had assigned a healthy, filling and tasty meal to the boy to which he had to cater. His briefcase had been opened out on the table, displaying all of its contents – a variety of kitchen knives, smaller pans, cooking utensils and some herbs and spices. The most decorative thing present within the confines of the case, however, was his sword – Grazia. The beautiful rapier was not something he liked to carry at his side without good cause, though he certainly could not part with it. The clean silver blade was treated just as his knives were, though the weapon itself was just small enough to fit inside the case in which he carried it. To be fair, it was quite a lengthy case, but it was designed to carry his cooking equipment, of which he had quite a lot.

Hmm. Not the best quality catch, but I’m sure he won’t care… Having set the pot half-full, the water starting to bubble as it closed in on boiling, the graceful gourmet quickly set a mix of leafy vegetables – spinach, runner beans and some nice dark cabbage – to steam over it. Peas had been an option, but there was little chance the child would get much out of them when compared to these far more luscious examples of greenery, that and those tiny things were rather bland – ideal with food sauces such as gravy, but you didn’t put that with fish (the tastes and textures clashed). A light lemon marinade was quickly prepared thereafter, to help bring out the flavour of the fillets, and soon his filet knife was brought to bear as he cut the fish. Unfortunately, knowing what youngsters were like, even some of the hungriest of children were unlikely to touch a meal which had a fish head in it, so he had to reluctantly scrap that. The bones, however, were bowled and set to boil alongside the greens.

Salmon bone soup will make an excellent supplementary dish, especially if I shred the spinach leaves… or perhaps… For a moment, Bassanio toyed with the idea of making a pâté, but the lack of fats made that impossible. Sure, the fish contained some fats, but it was unlikely he’d had enough to make the mix. Such pastes were best made with red meats like beef or pork, whose bearers had good fat reserves to rely upon. With the fish cut and left to what would have to be a very brief marinating time, he soon set about testing the vegetables. Not quite done, though converting the spinach ready for the soup was now ideal, the leaves still relatively firm. Scooping them out carefully, he prepared to chop them up, dicing them swiftly and accurately with the blade of his chopping knife before testing a few pieces. Perfect. Spinach overcooked turned soggy and became hard on the palate, but steam it just enough and it complemented almost every meal imaginable…

SPOILER: Click to show

{*Spoiler*}