Aristocratic Coup D'etat [Met - Monk - Vio]

[met30r]

The day seemed to be near perfect. A soft, cool breeze blew over the island. With nary a cloud in the sky, the sun gave off a layer of comforting heat. If one were to lay around, they'd find the temperature was ideal for drowsily slacking off and falling fast asleep. The conditions were perfect for a lazy day, and very few men and women roamed the streets. Except for a few shop owners and reluctant workers, it was almost unanimously decided that the day should be spent relaxing.

These conditions also made everyone dangerously oblivious to the pirates inbound. With most spending their time basking beneath the sun, three notably large pirate ships went unnoticed by the locals. Each one was far from the other, docking at different ports around the island. One had a flag with a white background with a skull wearing a top hat, another with a black background and a skull with a horned helm, and the last was a skull wearing goggles in front of a gun and a sword.

The local military found no significant problem with them, until they reported over their Den Den Mushi to one another and realized the curious timing of the multiple arrivals. Still, the differing flags made it seem like nothing more than a coincidence, or perhaps an alliance that agreed to meet on their island. Still, that many pirates at one time, issues were bound to arise, so commands went throughout the local military and police force to be on guard for any trouble.

As they did this, Seth, currently in a bar, leaned over his Black Den Den Mushi and listened. The arrival of pirates not really interesting him too much, he flipped his wrist to close the watch and proceeded to pick up a barrel full of beer with on hand. He took a few gulps from it before setting it back down and looking to the man desperately trying to get out of the headlock Seth had him trapped in. "Got anything else you wanna say to me?" The man quickly shook his head no. "Good," and with a hearty laugh, he released his hold, the man quickly scurrying out the front doors as fast as he could.

[monkoflords]

Home.

It was a place that Alistair never wanted to return to. An unfortunate twist had led him back here. The ship he was riding needed to make a sudden pit stop for some reason, and here he was, hiding out in a tavern hoping no one noticed him. Alistair was generally not the type of guy to wear a hood, but it seemed appropriate for the occasion. The corner he was sitting in wasn't as dark as would have hoped it would be, and he sat there, just waiting for the ship he was riding to be ready.

Alistair rapped his fingers on the table in perfect time, the light ticking reverberating from his eye barely perceptible to most. He didn't get a drink this time, as he didn't want to dull his senses for the moment he got caught. Alistair could feel it, that impending noise of that moron's steps rattling down the hall. His sister giving him another half hearted order. Hopefully they were on a business trip or something, as that would make life much easier.

The young man stood up and stretched, yawning loudly. Three more hours. That was it. That was the prediction the captain of that ship gave him at least. Alistair would just have to...

He looked outside, was there something going on?

[Vio]

1

---

Toroa, a Kingdom of elite aristocracies centred within the tides of the West Blue. This was an island well-known to those of the upper classes – a land where political back-and-forth clashed with wealthy idealism, where businesses were built and reputations made. And yet, the island had likely claimed many more ‘lives’ than it had ever made. Tenuous were the relationships between the upper classes and the commoners, but somehow it worked. It had worked like this for centuries by now and, unfortunately, it was very unlikely that it would ever change. The one thing that was certain; Toroa was a land of conniving and corruption, where the brightest of lights only served to cast even darker shadows.

Of course, none of that really mattered to the likes of a certain steam-powered Cyborg. He had long since rescinded wealth and prestige in favour of something altogether more appealing. Freedom his aim, piracy his game, Augustus Savoie seemed as nonchalant as he possibly could have been in the streets of the island’s bustling slum districts. It was a far cry from Strawberry Hill’s World Government-aligned commonwealth, but it would have to make do. Really, he had no choice in the matter other than to keep moving. At the very least, law enforcement of some kind might have been on his tail after the butchery that was his escape from his homeland. He would have to wait and see.

“W- One keg of distilled water, as asked,” said a gentleman, placing a barrel upon the counter before him. His moustache seemed a chalky brown and, oddly enough, his pocketed apron seemed to wear a very similar shade. This was what passed for a general store here? Augustus was none too impressed. The entire facility was cramped and shallow, bursting with various foods and household wares scattered somewhat haphazardly across various shelving units and cabinets. Everything from workman’s tools to packets of biscuit to bicycle chains could be found here, but here was not here for any of that.

^{“Th- That’ll be all…?”}

^{“That’s… all I need,” replied a coarse voice:
“Here’s your cash…”}

Thunk! A hefty inhuman hand smacked down upon the table, depositing a sum of Beri in its wake as it shifted over to the keg. The shopkeeper maintained something of a safe distance, likely waiting for his colossus of a customer to turn to leave before daring any action. It was for good reason, too. The iron-plated gauntlet that was his client’s right hand was big enough to wrap its metal fingers around his arm – and likely strong enough to break it, too! It seemed to have no issues in picking up the small barrel and its crystal clear contents, the sound of gentle sloshing present in the air.

What an a$$#*\€ that guy was! He wouldn’t even look me in the eye when he served me… His footsteps heavy upon the floorboards as he turned and made to exit the horrifically narrow establishment, Savoie could not help but sizzle and stew upon his most recent treatment. Being considered nothing more than a ‘monster’ by the people was not exactly a nice feeling, especially when he had not really done anything to deserve such a branding. Just like them, he was a man of flesh and blood, even if his exterior seemed anything but. That was not his fault. Though, some might have argued that it was.

Well, at least I got this. It makes it easier on my suit – d@mned sea salt just ends up clogging up the works… Stepping into the warming rays of the sun, the ironclad invalid’s armoured form gleamed with midday heat. At well over two metres tall, his appearance was nothing short of formidable – a technological titan that dwarfed many an average man. It was hard to believe that, beneath it all, he was little more than a crippled human being. A carapace of treated timber, leathery rubber, cast iron and copper plating hid that all from the world at large. In truth, such a body was a work of wonders – a once ‘state of the art’ deep sea diving suit crafted by his own ingenuity had been converted into a life support system by the hands of a family doctor.

Without it, he would have been dead seven years ago.

Ker-Klunk! Sloosh! Hisssssh… Fixing the water-filled container to its pride of place upon his upper back, Augustus seemed entirely uninterested in what went on around him. Attentions from various people waxed and waned, proving to him that this was just another day in his unusual and somewhat chaotic life. Even so, the sound of fresh and cool water flowing through the pipes that were the very veins of his suit – not to mention the wonderful hiss of boiled water that followed suit – were welcome to his ears. It meant he could function at maximum capacity once more; it meant that he was prepared…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC}

nter, Augustus!

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Starring…

_{Augustus Savoie (ff3800)
Shopkeeper (eeeeee)}

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[met30r]

The ship hosting the symbol of a skeleton wearing a top hat docked nearest to Seth. On board were dozens of men wearing completely black dress suits and tall top hats. Several wielded canes, some were barehanded, but none carried any actual weapons.

Minutes later, they had all dispersed through several streets, knocking on the doors to peoples’ homes or walking into businesses. Minutes later, some would walk out with pockets filled with beri. Those pirates would then go on to knock on other doors. Others would walk out with people, tied in rope and unable to move, on their shoulders. Those pirates would make their ways back to the ship, drop the person off, and go back into town to do it again. Each of them seemed to have reached the epitome of refinement, or, at least, as refined as pirates could possibly be.

The bar Seth relaxed in was quite close to the dock, so before noises of chaos enveloped the air, a man dressed in a fancy black suit with a cane came in and lingered near the doors. “I will need personal payments of 50,000 beri from each of you, or else you shall have to come with me.”

He was laughed at by nearly everyone in there. Seth seemingly paid him no attention, instead turning to the older man with a thin gray beard and a bald head behind the counter. “Hey barkeep, I’ll have a glass of water.”

“Sure thing,” said the bartender, chuckling to himself. Within seconds, Seth had a glass in front of him.

“It seems none of you regard me in a serious manner,” said the black suited pirate. “Fine, I’ll just take you all back.” He walked up to the nearest drunkard, who was having trouble trying not to laugh, raised his cane and drove it into several pressure points, all within the blink of an eye. With one final blow to his windpipe, the drunkard fell over, gasping for air while twitching, unable to control his own muscles. “Would anyone else like to disobey me?”

Seth slowly stood up from his chair, holding his glass of water and walking over to the pirate. “And what if we can’t fork up that much beri,” he inquired. “What’ll you do with us?”

“You’ll be escorted back to my division commander’s ship while we await further commands,” the well-dressed pirate stated simply.

“Yeah, I’d rather not.” Seth threw the water at the pirate, leaving his shirt drenched.

In return, he gave an annoyed groan. “I realize you think you’re more than a match for me, but you’re mistaken.” the pirate drove his cane into Seth’s triceps’ tendon, leaving his left arm limp. “In the face of real skill, your race and physique mean absolutely nothing.”

Seth rushed forward and lifted the man up off the ground by his white button up shirt underneath his jacket. As the pirate started moving his cane to attack another pressure point, Seth discharged. The man convulsed until he was let go and dropped on the floor, where he laid unconscious.

He peaked his head out of the door and looked down the street. Dozens of more men just like the one he just fought were wandering around, going building to building. He turned his head towards everyone in the bar. “All of you will probably wanna hide,” he announced to them before picking up the knocked out pirate and dragging him out onto the streets. If they had any care for their own, Seth would be able to use him as a hostage to escape.

---

When Alistair looked out the window, there would indeed be something to see. A large ship with a Jolly Roger of a skull wearing goggles with a sword and a gun behind it was seen docking. All the pirates on board either had rapiers or guns, and everyone wore black-tinted goggles around their eyes.

If Alistair hadn’t turned away yet, he would watch as the captain’s boat he had been catching a ride from was lit aflame. It was just the first of many to catch fire before even one of the pirates had set a foot on the dock. Policemen would be rushing out of nearby buildings only to be promptly shot within seconds, and soon afterwards, get dragged onto their ship.

Dozens of pirates would soon be traversing down each street. They would go into homes and come out seemingly empty handed or with a gun or sword up to someone’s head as the forced them to go back to their ship. They would have entire streets cleared within minutes. Every one of their actions was done with extreme proficiency.

At this rate, Alistair would be face to face with these pirates in just a short while.

---

The crew with the flag of a skull wearing horned helm was seen docking in the slums. The pirates seemed to all be brutish men, wearing horned helms themselves and fur coats around their shoulders. Many had axes, swords, some type of weapon that required only barbaric strength.

When they started raiding the streets, there was no asking people for the new required tax. The pirates knew that this district wouldn’t be able to pay the tax, which was exactly why the area was given to them to handle. There was no need to handle the matter delicately; their vicious ways were perfect for the chaos that was to ensue.

The barbaric pirates would be barging into homes, dragging people out and back to their ship. If anyone gave any trouble, a quick strike to the head with the hilts of their swords or the backsides of their axes would be more than enough to stop them from struggling. Screams filled the air as people ran. Streets were cleared quickly, the sun seemingly mocking the peasants from up above.

Soon, Augustus would meet the pirates for himself. They would surround the street, coming from both directions as to make sure none of the fleeing citizens could escape. For seemingly brainless brutes, they had planned far enough ahead to make sure none of their victims could make a run for it.

[monkoflords]

"What? A pirate raid? Here." Alistair stares out the window, "Where are the guards? There should be guards."

The young man swerves around the bar, looking through multiple windows, trying to figure out what's going on. His desire to keep hidden essentially gone at this point, Alistair waltzed over to the barkeep, "I'm paying up, what do you I owe you?"

The barkeep, was slightly distracted, for obvious reasons. He was busy staring out the window himself. Alistair attempted to grab the man's attention, first subtly, rapping his fingers on the counter, annoyed. After a brief moment of being quiet, he called out at the man, "Oi, amigo! I'm checking out my tab. Do you want my money or not?"

The man snapped to attention, surprised anyone would care at this point. Alistair shrugged and just left his money on the counter, turning back around and heading out into the streets. The young man adjusted his jacket and hat, and cleaned off his glasses, putting them back on before anyone could notice his eye being off.

He looked off at the people being rounded up, and began to walk down the alley away. After hearing a few more screams he grumbled under his breath. Alistair grabbed his ear and twisted it 8 times. As he finished, his teeth rattled in time and he turned back tapping his foot on the ground.

As a pirate grabbed someone else on the other side of the street, Alistair burst out of the alleyway, striking the man with a haymaker, "That's enough of that!"

[Vio]

2

---

“Ah! That feels much better,” muttered Augustus Savoie as he flexed the limbs of his armoured exterior. The burden of moving such a body steadily increasing prior, the fact that water and steam flowed through it now made it that much easier to shift its weight. On the inside, his withered and frail body practically cheered in relief – the result of being comatose for nearly a quarter of his life had still yet to heal from the atrophy to which it had been subjected. That being said, the vestigial curves and contours of prominent muscles were beginning to steadily form upon his arms, shoulders and neck. Unseen to the average eye, yes, but they were definitely there.

“Wha- What’s happening…?”

^{“Let go of me!”}

^“Gaarh!”

Civilian voices only just making themselves heard over the bubbles and hisses of his augmented form, the ironclad invalid’s interest was somewhat piqued by the rather uniform nature of such outcries. Though the sounds might have been significantly dulled by the brass helm that surrounded his head and shielded much of his visage from the world at large, there was no denying their presence. He turned, scanning a nearby street of the coastal Toroan district, but nothing immediately stood out. Had distortion tipped his hearing in the wrong direction? Sometimes he wondered if the suit was as much a help as it was a hindrance.

^{“Run! Pirates! Pirates are raiding us!”
A young man yelled as he ran past:
“Run while you still can!”}

Oh, you’ve got to be f*€%ing kidding me! What cheap b@$+@/>s would want to pillage this village? There’s barely ten thousand Beri in this whole district… Turning to his other side, now facing the direction from whence the yeller had scurried like a rat driven from his sewage pipe, Augustus’ eyes widened in surprise – and then proceeded to narrow into a judgmental glare. One sapphire and one emerald focused upon at least two dozen men, marching their way nonchalantly through the narrow and cramped streets whilst brandishing various pieces of primitive armament. Swords, maces and axes alike were waved about to intimidate, but that fear factor simply washed past the steam-powered cyborg without influence.

^{“Well, well, what ‘ave we ‘ere?” a gruff voice inquired:
“You look awfully fancy for a Slumdog.”}

^{“Excuse me…?”}

“Ay, lads? The boss is goin’ t’ want see this,” said the pirate to his party. By this point, Augustus had managed to turn again, silently cursing the limits of his peripheral vision being further impaired by the way his helm’s glass panes and brass frame were arranged. Much to his dismay, what had initially seemed only a couple of dozen pirates had turned out to be almost twice that in terms of raw number. Fortunately, many of the poorly spoken pirate’s comrades were preoccupied and attending to other matters of business – some were dragging people away, whilst others tossed whatever potentially useful bits of material they could find within the rundown environment into potato sacks.

^{“So, are you goin’ t’ come quietly,” he was asked:
“Or are we goin’ t’ have to make a mess…?”}

His metallic fist clenched.

“I don’t think you realise who you’re dealing with,” Mister Savoie retorted, his deep voice intoned by a subtle tinny echo produced by the hollow innards of his helm. His threat hardly seemed to bother the barbarian, even though he was a good twelve inches above him in terms of stature. Very likely, such bold and brazen behaviour was the work of having a numerical advantage. Perhaps this bilge rat was the subordinate of a strong leader? Or, had he never encountered opposition in his time as a pirate? What kind of man could call himself a true scallywag of the seas without facing down the threats that the world threw at him? Besides that, Augustus found himself asking another question without it escaping his lips. What kind of pirate could have thought that a horned helmet and fur-lined attire would look intimidating?

^{“Nah! You’re the one ‘oo doesn’t get it, tin can!”}

The pirate brandished his twin axes – oddly decorate weapons of moderate haft and tempered head. Such arms seemed to be hooked to some degree, perhaps offering a means of trapping an opponent’s own weapon, or hooking the body so as to be dragged about. Such utility was understandable; axes were not exactly the best of reach weapons, often needing the wielder to be a lot closer (and have the high ground) to be most effective. The ‘tin can’ shook his head, but his helm remained still. Upon his back, a couple of pin-like pressure valves popped open, venting wisps of white steam before springing back into a locked position.

^{“Did you… just call me… Tin Can…?”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC}

ever call Augustus a tin can!

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Starring…

_{Augustus Savoie (ff3800)
Civillians (aaaaaa - eeeeee)
Pirates (555555 - 999999)}

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