No Laughing Matter [Mission 153: Konaa/Mizu/Virus]

[Konaa]

Mission #153
A strange disease has struck one of the young citizens of Sedna Island. She needs to laugh genuinely in order to expel the pathogen from her throat, but the people on this Island hardly ever laugh at all! The local Doctor knows how to make a serum to make her more inclined to laugh but it requires a special plant that is located deep in the woods and his is too old to go by himself. (Reward is more for those with humorous threads)

Though the inhabitants of Sedna island favored an icy disposition toward foreigners that seemed to emulate their isle's habitat, even they weren't blind to their obligation toward the World Government.  Thus, it was with a terse yet favorable reply that docking permission was granted to the Eastwind, a Marine battleship some ways out of its home in the eastern waters (as the name implied).  Luckily, there was a space available in the notoriously small harbor.  Creaking timbers ground to a halt alongside the paddlewheel, the ship weighing anchor in this strange and unfriendly port.

The mechanics and harbormaster were of course at hand to deal with matters as quick and efficiently as possible, but - a commotion distracted them before they had spotted any Marines coming ashore.  Some sort of argument was taking part on the decks.

"...So if you want to run that smart mouth of yours, try it on the Sednans!  I hear they REALLY appreciate it!"  A resounding SMACK echoed down through the dock, and a hair-raising cry soon followed as an object plummeted from the Eastwind and crashed bodily into a stack of crates.

When the dust cleared, a pair of twitching legs in sailor garb hung out of the cracked, top box.  Picking himself up and seeing stars, Konaa blinked over at the Sednan inspector and his coworkers, staring blankly for a moment before waving.  "H-hey...nice place you got here."

The harbormaster looked down at his clipboard, stone faced, and made some adjustments.  "We will be adding this to your total."  he called up to the burly Captain on deck, who made a face and shrugged.

"Worth it."

* * *

Rubbing his poor freezing arms, the world's most hapless Seaman Recruit made his clumsy, stumbling way down the rigid cobblestone steps.  First Street ahead read the sign, and that seemed like as good a place as any to take his imposed exile.

Really, if the captain didn't want any comments about his mustache, he shouldn't have grown the damn thing to begin with.  As ever, Konaa was faultless.

"Stupid...insecure - middle aged- grgrgh."  Teeth chattering, he hoped to high heaven there was some sort of stand for a coat or something.  He wouldn't put it past those jerks to let him freeze on this godforsaken rock, not one bit.  As he found himself within what amounted to a town square, looking around, the few people milling on the street were less than hospitable.  Most turned away the moment he tried to make eye contact, actively shuffling off in another direction.

Wow.  So this is how that feels.

There was little time to be introspective, however.  As he continued on his way, with such a quiet place, he couldn't help but pick up the murmers of a large concentration of people.  Edging his way in between a general store and a gun shop, he found there were a few dozen Sednans gathered around the outside of a house, muttering to each other and showing about as much worry as the frosty jerks ever did.

"...What's up over there?"

[viruswithshoes]

To Zenit's trained eye Sedna Island would need a thick coat of gray paint to even be elevated to bland. Until reaching the island he never thought an island could be un-photographable, but here it was. It must have been the most frustratingly banal island with nothing of interest or note.
Earlier optimism pushed him towards the direction of the locals who seemed they might be up for a good time as a distraction from their lives of quiet desperation. Alas, these people were content and rather belligerent about some stranger asking about their social habits.
That meant hanging out in the gun shop and attempting to talk weapons the the proprietor. Zenit thought there might be an interesting discussion on the viability of sea stone bullets but what wasn't just business was dry schematic talk. Sarin Basqiat had taught her son that guns had a certain beauty which saddened him to think of them being described in such banal ways.

Other visitors to the island stood out like fireworks in a dull, cloudless sky. Visitors in a closed off place such as Sedna seemed like a recipe for trouble and trouble usually meant good photos and Zenit getting paid. He pulled his gray hood over his head and picked out a Marine who piqued his interest. Marines meant exciting things sometimes. It also means a group of people who have sworn themselves as human shields for innocent civilians such as Zenit, at least that was Zenit's hope. The Marine he spotted through the gun shop window looked like a chili pepper floating in a bowl of porridge.

Pulling his long, gray winter coat tighter Zenit braved the sharp cold in a quest for something moderately interesting. In the tabloid business sometimes the photos came first and the story came second. If Zenit photographed Buggy The Clown looking annoyed another person would write an article about the devastating wrath of the red-nosed pirate. It did not inspire any faith in any media where eye-catching photos were more important than the truth...though he himself loved eye-catching photos, particularly taking them.

Along with the Marine Zenit found near the crowd a crimson-clad woman. She looked dangerous which meant she looked story-worthy. His instinct for avoiding trouble fought with his instincts toward getting paid and not starving to death fought one another as he mindlessly followed the one-eyed lady to something more interesting than the rest of the dull town but hopefully not deadly.

One Marine and One beautiful woman. They both stood out in the crowd which meant they must lead to something more interesting than watching paint dry which in Senda probably caused over-excitement and was barred to anyone below sixty years of age.
"What's going on here? A public hanging because someone smiled?"