Light This Town Up

[momo]

Francis hated Resinbar. It had little to do with the land itself. He had nothing against the people. If anything, they seemed to be made up of far sturdier stuff than anyone back home. After all, he had yet to see anyone gasp or mutter something under their breath because he'd said something a bit crude or let his temper get the better of him for a moment. No, the true burden of the land was the heat. He undoubtedly was not dressed for the weather, having taken to wrapping his jacket around his waist lest the layers bring about a heat stroke. He was faintly sure he was becoming a bit red by now.

Unfortunately, this didn't seem like something that would be about to change anytime soon. He was beginning to feel a bit foolish at the moment. Francis did not consider himself much of a risk taker. He had never considered an adventurous job, each occupation only chosen because of money. He had never considered the tales of the Grand Line that some children his age had whispered about, only rolling his eyes because legends were not something that would get him to risk his life. Yet, the moment he had of Kite Kalisto he hadn't been able to himself. The name had been everywhere. He told himself it was curiosity, even as he followed it and found himself in the Grand Line.

Clearly, he was an idiot.

Here he was in Resinbar, no Kite to be found, and far from the comfort of home. He was tempted to turn around home, but even that wasn't easy. He would have to take the long way home and he would have to wait a few days until he was able to leave. Or, he would unless he was willing to sail around blindly and potentially die, anyway. 

So, he had decided to at least try and enjoy Resinbar while he was here. Staying locked up in a hotel held some appeal, but not enough to go through with it for several days. As a result, he eventually headed down to Whiskey Town. He wasn't too surprised at the sight of more than one face from a wanted poster. If anything, they seemed to be scattered throughout Resinbar, coexisting in a manner that the World Government would have claimed to be impossible.

Fine with him. He wasn't about to drag someone off for money when they weren't doing anything. Besides, he was in the mood for something to drink. As a result, he headed over to one of the more rowdy bars.

[The Last Berserker]

Jakobs K. Dutchman - 1

---

Whilst the man known as Francis grumbled about his misfortune and being located in such a hot place.Where he was? Resinbar.

A land fitted for lighter clothes and gifting it's people with brisk tan-skinned from working outside. Fair & pale skin were rare. Weaker people were rarer. As he entered into the infamous town - Whiskey Peak. A hotbed for criminal activity and tough, boisterous folks to be beaten down in a newfound revelation.  

He could feel eyes on his slightly stumbling and sweating form. Numerous smirks and low whispers from multiple people whom looked at the new arrival. Francis stumbled and bumbled his way towards a small but rowdy bar - Packed to the brim with folks who would come in sober and leave drunk, bruised or both. 

As he entered the bar - It was lightly lit. It's aroma was riddled with aged booze coating the wooden plants bellow the patrons of the Bar. It was filled with all sorts of stools and seats which occupied by native people of Resinbar & Travelers from all across the world, speaking towards each other with common boast and loud chugging of the mug that they held in hand. Find a simple seat was easy for the likes of Bounty Hunter of Francis's Caliber despite his..... condition...

However.... Elsewhere in the land of Resinbar.

A small lizard crawled upon the grains of sand within the desert lands. It scurried about with ease which it traveled towards a hole within the ground as It crawled into it. Simply living out it's exist as It peeked it's head out of it's den and looked at the rather hot air - If it was smarter - It may have sighed at the looming landscape.

Just as It was to turn into the depths of it's home - It noticed a figure in the distance which came from overhead. It's eyes squinted as it looked forward and noticed that It was a humanoid figure. It may be larger but it would bite whoever came near it. Opening it's maw in natural instinct only for it to clench it's mouth and look upward. A massive foot came near it's home and slammed down. Dirt and sand from this being's immense weight as it shuffled slightly where it's foot sunk into the ground. 

A squeal came from the lizard as it's home almost disappeared only for it to be quieted by the thunderous growl which came from above as the large figure looked around at the noise only for it's growl to stop as it looked towards the sky above.

*Sqwack!*

The Vultures of Resinbar - Large birds in their own right that ruled the sky of the hot land. Scavenger & hunting whatever was available alongside harming whomever got in their way but they kept their distance from one titan... The titan whom was crouching down.

Slight scratches and droplets of sweat covered the hulking figure whom rose back to his feet where it's eyes looked upward and loudly growl from the figure. The lizard watched in some sort of stunned belief as the being got... bigger? Alot bigger... Much Bigger! BECAME MASSIVE!

Some things were different which followed by an explosion from sand and dust as the being disappeared. The Sqwack became hoarse and the sounds of loud hissing and violent screeches rained.

Crashing downward, the being held the necks of three Vultures in a singular hand where blood dripped from the beaks' of these creatures. Their eyes rolled back into their head and It's body reduced in size and stature to the size from before... The birds were dead. The maw of the monster opened and the small lizard watched in horror as the beast devoured these Vultures.

Chomping down without a care in the world as blood began to adorn it's neck and chest til nothing remain except a massive pool of blood in the ground. Shrinking downward as the being from before seemed to have much more energy and lively appearance, it's skin didn't seem as dry as before and it's body stood firmer.

"Finally - Some Food." A low rumbling voice exited the maw of the humanoid figure who shifted from monstrosity to man as it looked at the sheet of blood that he caused from his rabid consummation of the birds. A small snort came from him as toothy grin came onto his large face as he smiled. "Now. The next town." This figure had traveled towards Grave Town where he heard from some of the people whom spoke to him that Strong People were near... Drinking blood & eating raw food was getting annoying and boring... Needed to fight someone.... or something. Strong - A cheek-to-cheek grin became plastered onto his face where he roared to the sky and sprinted off in the direction of the next town.

Whiskey Town.

[momo]

It wasn't beyond Francis' notice that he had attracted a fair amount of attention. In his book, it was nothing spectacular, merely a glance here and there. After all, it was clear that the brunette was not a native of the island. His complexion was pale, far more inclined to burning than tanning under Resinbar's heat. While this might have been a small detail in the long run, he notably dressed nothing like a native would have. Francis would have never claimed to be one for formalities when it came to clothing, but among his surroundings he undoubtedly stood out. His clothing was sharper, more polished, hardly allowing him to blend in with the far more casual and rugged appearance of those that surrounded him.

On the bright side, the bar was loud and packed enough that nothing more than a casual glance was cast his way. More importantly, he was hardly the only foreigner present. A quick glance made it clear that other travelers were present, though it would have likely taken a well read individual to be able to differentiate from the pirates and the bounty hunters in Whiskey Town. For as good a memory he had, Francis would hardly be able to recall every two bit pirate and no name bounty hunter.

Either way, it worked in his favor. It hardly had anything to do with his work. If anything, it seemed far more likely that someone causing trouble would place him at the bottom of the barrel. No, it simply allowed him to attract less attention...mostly. He admittedly did stand out, others clearly having made a better attempt than him to blend in.

Sliding down into an open seat at the bar, he plastered on a smile as he addressed the bartender as he came near. "Would you happen to have any ale left?" The man easily confirmed his question, though not without stating that they were almost out. With that said, he hurried off to get him some.   

For a moment, things were peaceful enough.

[The Last Berserker]

Jakobs K. Dutchman - 2

---

Within the bar - The language was... what you would expect. Common slang is thrown between the Patrons - The natives wore the more free flowing clothing as the travelers appeared in 'dressed downed' items than what they would assume they would normally wear. As Francis sat down - The counter-top was adorned with dozens of carvings. Names from all sorts of people had been scratched into the hardwood alongside even more crude images belonging to Marines, Pirates, Sailors & other groups.


Despite the busy aura within the Bar, the spot that Francis gained had been slightly quiet... which it was also the space which the Bartender had been as well. An aged man with a long ponytail of graying hair underneath the dark brown cowboy hat with various beads & patches within it. His body was filled with wiry muscle as he stood taller than the common man at around 8 ft, small bits of facial area was underneath his lip. Polishing a several glass mugs whilst wooden mugs were stacked to the brim in the stink behind himself, his ears twitched as someone sat down in his presence and he shifted slightly before looking at him. His eyes were a simple brown and his face was smooth without scars, strange growths or spots. 


A handsome man but a presentable man. He had placed down the cloth which was used polish the glass which he looked at Francis and awaited for him to speak. "Ale?" A pondering face adorned the Bartender who raised a hand to his chin in thought. Snapping his fingers as he realized that he did. Turning around and grasping a somewhat large barrel that was lifted with ease and placed onto the counter top. He proceed to ask Francis two questions which would be easy to answer.


"Sir? How would you like it? Bottled? Glass or Wooden Mug? Glass With Ice? From Barrel itself?" Desiring to know what the Patron wanted was key in order to get paid - especially for travelers who may never come back. "Also... Can you pay?" His face became slightly shadowed as he asked with a smile. Running a Bar in Whiskey Town was tough because of how much competition alongside maintaining order was much harder than running the Bar as well as a result, being tough when you had to be was expected.

But The Bartender relented as his facial expression lighten with a more casual smile as he wondered what the man would do. Some of the customers got alittle rowdy which a braid-hair man grabbed the collar of a woman in a suit whom had a hand on a gun that poking the man's chest which the two were getting ready to fight as drunk men & woman cheer on the fighting which made The Bartender sigh loudly as the two drag each other outside to fight.

"Sorry... That happens too often." His face lost alot of it's energy as curses and shouts came from outside alongside loud bangs. This continued for around 5 minutes as the two came back with swollen faces and scuffed clothes as many Patrons exchange wads of Berries & coin from betting on fights. A blushing and flushed girl came over to the counter and squeamishly handed a large stack of money to The Bartender as he loudly thank her only for her to shout back at losing the bet between the two. 

---

Around a couple of miles away from Whiskey Town - The sprinting form of hulking figure. His stomp feet weren't haltered by the sand that he ran within and he charged onward like a madman. His booming laughter bellowed outwardly and he seemed like a completely....dumbass. Animals of all kinda were directly sense this mad lad whom was causing all kinds of noise and he appeared mighty appealing for those who hunted after creatures for their meat.


Stopping as Jakobs huffed and puffed as he began to sweat more and more, heavy droplets covered his bare chest as his skin being pelted like an animal with arrows from a rookie hunter. Couldn't bring it down but keep on hitting areas which wouldn't would kill the beast. Falling to his knees as Jakobs loudly state in the most mature way. "I WANNA FIGHT SOMEONE! ... AND EATING SOMETHING!" His loud cry attract the attention of multitude of animals who watched him snapped to his feet and yell once more as he had pissed himself once more which he proceed to raise a foot and sprint off in the direction that he was heading which already.


What may have been around an hour or so... He finally arrived within a town which Jakobs proceed to collapse as he breathed loudly whilst his stomach was growling... A person walked over and didn't pay him any mind which Jakobs turned on his front which got a vein to swell on his forehead as he yelled at the person. "OI! ... Where is food?" The native turned over and mockingly said that they would have to not be weak which got Jakobs snapping to his feet and running at the person which their mocking smile got smaller and smaller as Jakobs dwarfed greatly as he looked down at them. 


The slightly nervous person pointed towards a random bar in the distance. Jakobs nodded with a smile and responded by 'thanking them.' Smashing his foot as he sent them flying through the middle of town was funny which he whistled happily where he snatched up the half-filled bottle of booze that the person was drink as he took a sip.... HE WANTED MORE! He drank some more as he comically stomped his way in the direction of the bar.


Each & every stomp was natural but heavy as the ground cracked from his steps which he found himself at the door-way of the Bar. His shadow bled inside as he shouted out a "HELLO!" This was followed by him lightly knocking on the doorway which he somehow.... someway! Managed to cram his large size within the building. It was a pretty small bar but he wasn't hitting the ceiling with his face but he was touching it with his hair as his sharp teeth and blood stained chest was....weird.... Even by Resinbar else's standards.

[momo]

"I can pay." That seemed like the most important bit in his own mind. Of course, Francis could only pay for as much as he envisioned as getting. He was no pirate and lived an earnest enough living, even if being a bounty hunter tended to come with a certain stigma. Nonetheless, it was legal enough and it wasn't as if he actively attempted to live outside of the law. As a result, he had money, but only enough to buy a couple glasses. That was enough for him anyway. He had never been much of a drinker to begin with. 

The endless questions were not something he wanted to address. He would have preferred if the bartender had decided for himself, but it was admittedly an unrealistic expectation. Any good bartender would have asked at least a portion of the questions had he not made them clear himself. "A wooden mug will be fine." It was the first thing that came to mind, anyway. Whether it actually had any effect on the taste he had no clue. All Francis really knew was that he didn't want a barrel and likely couldn't afford it even if he did. "And no ice, please."

Whether Francis actually noticed the more violent nature of the rowdiness within the bar would not have been clear, at least on the surface. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to be lost in thought, his gaze flickering about mindlessly. In many respects, it likely was possible that he wasn't taking in everything about the bar, as his attention hadn't even turned anywhere near the nickering couple. It wasn't too odd. For all his perceptiveness, Francis did have a short attention span.

"Hm?" His gaze focused on the man before him, taking in the clear change of his expression. It wasn't too hard to guess what his apology was about considering the shots that could be heard beyond the cursing and shouting behind them. "So I've heard." Or, rather he had caught wind that Whiskey Town was known for being filled with pirates and bounty hunters. He'd gotten a vague impression that it was lawful enough, no doubt because of what Resinbar was like and the fact that the town was filled with bounty hunters as well. However, to expect it to be anything other than rowdy would have been foolish. "It doesn't particularly matter, at least for the most part. I'm sure they're mostly just enjoying themselves."

Perhaps not the sort of thing one expected to hear from one who sounded so polished, especially since Francis seemed to mean it. However, he was sure it was true. Likely, the pirates were just having drunken fun. It only became a problem when it went beyond that.

As the drink was given to him, he slid over the appropriate amount of belly. Turning to his drink, he sipped at it. For the moment, everything seemed normal enough. Whatever commotion was heard outside was likely not taken too seriously as there was plenty of commotion within the bar itself that seemed to be spilling outside, whether due to the odd drunken interaction or someone stumbling their way outside. It was only once it spilled into the bar that it would become clearer as to the source had been.

Unlike many other strangers, the new arrival was taken a bit more seriously, seeming to have created at least a dulled the noise in the bar. He easily stood taller than anyone else present, barely fitting into the bar, a giant among ants. More importantly, from the perspective of many around the stranger, he seemed to be an entirely different beast, something feral and strange.

Yet, there were those who seemed entirely unaffected. Jakobs was odd to them, sure, but this was the Grand Line and many sorts entered and left it. Resinbar in particular was not filled with people who were easily intimidated.

Francis, for his own part, seemed to only take a casual notice of the man before minding his own business- for now. A man covered in blood? Suspicious and perhaps a bit odd, but for the moment it seemed like nothing to worry too much over.

Probably.

[The Last Berserker]

Jakobs K. Dutchman - 3

---

As the massive man walked his way through the bar - He didn't realize that he was very entrapped within entrapped within the Bar, it didn't allow for much room to be given and he kinda didn't want to break anything... He broke things when he got into fights by accident or on purpose but these people seemed cooled....except that one guy who didn't want to help him cause they are colossal toss-bag but that was beside the point. He carefully tried to maneuver his way but his feet occasionally brushed someone which he apologized afterwards as he got shout at by them. 


Finding his way towards the counter-top of this little bar which The Bartender look up at Jakobs with his easy-going smile despite causing a slight commotion as almost everybody had been staring deeply at his back for accidentally smack him with his sand-covered boots. Many felt their teeth grinding as they watched sit just before the bar but he did so which cause a great deal of them to be launch a couple feet upward. Crosslegged in the middle of the bar without a care in the world which made some get even more pissed cause some of them spilled their drinks to the floor.


However... Jakobs didn't realize that he was the target to the violent looks and aggressive change in body language caused by most of the Patrons which forced a sigh from The Bartender whom might have to deal with a Bar Brawl.... A big one if this start of it got involved.... or maybe his looks were deceiving... Whatever.


A large smile came on Jakobs's face as he then asked. "Can I have food?" A low growl came from his center symbolizing his need for food at the moment which caused The Bartender to sweat-dropped as he gauged how much food this guy would need for such a big body and how annoying that it may be to feed him as well. Replying to the Jakobs as he then stated. "I dunno know.... You gonna pay full price, Big Man?" 


The Large man's eyes blinked several times at the word 'pay.' A moment of silence went between the two which an even larger smile appeared on his face as Jakobs proceeded to say to The Owner Of This Fine Establishment. "I can't pay you right now!" A laugh followed afterwards which formed a shadow covering the Bartender's face which he then loudly replied back to him. "THEN I'M NOT GIVE YOU ONE SPECK OF FOOD!" A wide-eyed that adorned Jakobs's face in shock as he proceed to say. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!" Nod vigorously at this, The Bartender knew what would happen if this guy was given food. He wouldn't pay even if he 'promised.'


"Come On! I'll pay you back!" Kissing his teeth loudly at this which The Bartender scowled hard at the large figure who had proceed to be surprised by this. It was obvious. Pay and you'll get service which Jakobs huffed as the two argued. Jakobs tried to persuade The Bartender as he promised that he'd pay him back but the smaller man wasn't having it at all, some of the Patrons came over with various items drawn and patted the cross-legged man whom looked over his shoulder and downward at the smaller folks. Some had fists clenched, weapons drawn as they politely asked for him to come outside. 

Jakobs didn't want to go outside but they attempted to drag him out...A fruitless effort which got one of them crushed as Jakobs's large mace fell out from it's sheath within his feathered overcoat. It came down with a thunderous thud and crashed the man in the floorboard. Breaking and cracking it from it's weight which got a yell from The Bartender which Jakobs respond. "That's what you get." Which The Bartender shouted loudly as he then said... "WHAT DID I DO YOU, BASTARD!" This got a chuckle from Jakobs which got more yelling and shouting within the bar as chaos started. People started fighting each other, weapons were drawn and being used. The Natives had a grand 'ole time but they went after Jakobs for some of the stuff that he did.


Those who were drunk just fought everybody and Jakobs? He was trying to pry The Bartender who had flung himself at the face of Jakobs for breaking his bar some of his bar.... Funny.  

[momo]

It seemed as though a domino effect had happened. The natives of Resinbar had little problem with pirates. They easily coexisted with them about as well as one would expect. However, problems still arose and now was an excellent example as to why. There were a clear mixture of people within the bar. Some seemed hesitant and wary, clearly wanting no trouble, whether because it was their way or because they were not the sort who were truly built for the Grand Line. Others, however, clearly were itching for a fight for one reason or another. Then, there were others who seemed on edge, as if just waiting to intervene. The folks of Resinbar themselves didn't tend to have much patience for pirates who caused trouble and it only seemed to bleed into the tension.

Francis was easily as much of the rarity as he appeared to be. For the moment, he didn't entirely care. Jakobs looked like trouble, but in his experience actions were a better way to judge people. Perhaps it wasn't the best way to figure if he should step in when it came to a man covered in blood, but the way he saw it if the man really was trouble then he would simply cause more. Besides, it wasn't like he knew how he had gotten in the state he currently was.

Besides, causing trouble was not something he liked to do himself. Better to keep a half ear out while largely minding his own business. Things would be fine that way. It wasn't like he was the only bounty hunter here...probably.

This didn't seem to be a misplaced belief as the longer the giant of a man argued with the bartender the more he was quickly surrounded by patrons. Francis only had so much experience with pirates, but in his book they seemed a bit too polite to be pirates. His first instinct was to judge them as bounty hunters. After all, polite wouldn't be a good way to describe anybody from Resinbar that he'd managed to come across. It wasn't to say that they were raging jerks, but they struck him as rough around the edges for the most part.

Politeness, of course, wasn't about to get a man to follow you. Dragging him was probably a bad idea as well when you were probably a third his size. Francis wasn't entirely sure who to lay the blame on when Jakobs eventually lost his temper. The people were obviously fools, but Jakobs didn't exactly come across as someone who wouldn't have beat them up even if they weren't fools. 

The bar devolved into a chaos that Francis was entirely unwilling to join. It wasn't quite that he didn't care. If anything, he empathized for the bartender and, to some degree, empathized for the men who had been easily been beaten. However, there seemed like little point in joining what was clearly a mixture of a drunken fight and righteous anger.

For the moment, Francis merely watched, easily hidden among the chaos of men and women throwing themselves at Jakobs. Idly, he was a bit curious as to how strong the man was.

[The Last Berserker]

Jakobs K. Dutchman - 4

A fight. Something which Jakobs had been searching for. Before The Bartender jumped at him, the largest smile that was seen on Jakobs's face since coming to this place appeared which Jakobs allowed for the charging men's momentum to magnify which the Large Humanoid sprung upward  as he was horizontal before he drove an elbow to an unlucky person who had found themselves underneath which smashed a couple few into the harden floorboards. Their shouts and loud groans from being crush his heavy weight was generally unpleasant but his attention was gained by The Bartender who drove his own head into the floorboards with a vigorous knee; the burried head of Jakobs was stuck but he remained on his feet. Despite the situation, his back didn't touch the guy.

Standing on the massive guy's chest which The Bartender dusted off his hands and hopped off only for his head to be grasp which got a clench of the teeth and increasing in the amount of breaths where Jakobs slowly rose from the floor. Snapping to his full height as he looked at the man which he held in his hands where he raised his head backwards and drove his skull into the man whom torpedo into the Bar's Counterside. An explosion of wood, dust and liquor came forth as it covered Francis alongside a majority of Jakobs's lower body.

A proud little smirk covered his face which the Bar collectively roared at him for attacking the Bartender which Jakobs yelled for them all to come at him. Large Ticks bore on almost everyone's face from this attitude. Who the hell does this guy think he is?! The Bartender snapped forward and smashed his foot into Jakobs's center as he slammed backwards by force not belong to such a thin form but his foot was grabbed as the Pirate pulled himself forward which he ended up driving a hefty fist right into his skull and plowing it which forced him to rebounded against a wall into another strike followed by doing another. A final & fourth punch smashed The Bartender firmly outside of the building as bricks and wood were blasted out of the hole in the shape of a man's body.

"BRING IT ON!" More of the enraged Patrons & Townsfolk charged at him in which he grabbed his mace and swing it. The slow ones got hit and flung away where nimble fighters evade proceed to smash him however they lacked in attacking power which only lead for them to receive counter attack. Blades could only lightly grace his flesh and the bullets that were launched into him did little. Releasing his grip on Mace which his boomed aloud as he said the following words. "MOTHER'S ARM!" A flexed left arm was swung forward as a small dozen of the Patrons were caught in a powerhouse of a Lariat caught a majority which they were flung outside of the establishment. A smaller number reminded with Jakobs whose lust for battle was very present in his face but that smile, it was one of pure joy belonging to a child who got his favorite toy or treat. Slamming his chest with one of his clenched fist like a primal beast which he stomped forward as more and more damage came to the surrounds of this bar as naught much got in the way of flying fists, pounding stomps & vicious mace swings belonging to the Large Man whom shrugged off a majority of the attacks that he received.

His laughter was even louder whilst he fought on with sublime pleasure.

[momo]

I won't get involved.

Francis did not have nearly as much conviction as he liked to think he did. While the thought rolled around in his head, it was a bit harder to act out on. Whatever God might exist might have made him stubborn, but He had also seemed to made Francis horribly empathetic. Logically, he knew that nobody present probably cared one wit what he thought or felt. In many respects, a good portion of the people were probably just pissed that some stranger was making a mess of their town and causing entirely unwelcome fights. The rest were likely a mixture of drunken idiots, people actually looking for a fight, and the odd actual do-gooder. Whatever cowards might have been present were either hiding or had taken advantage of the chaos to escape.

Still, it didn't stop him from caring. There was a hole in the floor and people had been carelessly thrown around . Unfortunately, this didn't exactly stop. He watched as men were carelessly treated as rag dolls, easily ground into the floor. Of course, they were going about this all wrong. A simple glance at Jakobs would have made it clear that the man was likely all brute strength. Trying to beat him at his own game was likely a poor move, so long as one was not talented in the area as well. It wasn't to say that the man couldn't be won so long as he was outnumbered, but it was such a...slow way.

The notion of helping lingered in the back of head. Later, later, later. He could push it off, particularly since there were so many other people fighting. Besides, it was better to know what he was dealing with and he would prefer not to just jump in blindly. He wanted no part of a mob's inefficient plan.

Life always had other plans though, no?

Francis easily became a casualty of the damage Jakobs created as he threw the bartender into the counterside. It seemed to create a domino effect, only creating more damage with an explosion of wood, dust, and liquor. Clearly not having expected it, Francis was not quick enough to move and found himself covered by a good portion of it.

While not nearly as quick to recover as those around him, the attack presented something else. Francis had always been quick to anger, seeming to have a fire trigger temper. The man who arose from the rubble was quite different. While certainly not inhuman, the anger that rolled off of him was almost palpable. He paid little attention to the mess or people around him, absently keeping a hand to the swords at his side.

"Leave." The single word broke through the other man's laughter. Hardly in the state of mind to care, he didn't bother to give a warning to those around them. They could either leave or get caught up in whatever followed.

[The Last Berserker]

Jakobs K. Dutchman - 5

Solid. That could be the state that you could describe the one known as Jakobs. No one had directly been able to force him in a state of weakness since he had arrived on this island, he might've been a weakling.... He knew that he was a hatchling... a pup.... a chick... a scrawny punk... but no one had really beat the absolute crap out of him for a long time. He wanted to be the strongest and learning from everyone was key. Someone must be around that could really get him going.... He hadn't used all of his strength yet and his blood was boiling, he needed to stake his claim in the world soon. Destroy or Leveling An Island would be fun.... Maybe eating a number of deadly species would be fun... or trying out those poisons thorny plants that those people told him about. Those folks in rags were kinda nice... Unlike that toss-bag who wanted to be an ass. Kicking him was funny.


Just as a couple more of Patrons whom hadn't driven off finally fell to ground from the large man's combative assault. Some had lumped faces, Others held a decent numbering cuts across their bodies and some manage to only have cuts and slightly broken forms. Most of them were tough whilst the weaklings could no longer stand among the strong who remained. A clear look appeared on Jakobs's face which he took a long breath inward and exhaled which he proceed to heft his Mace up and leaned against his shoulder. Welp - Maybe leveling this town would get stronger people to come here which Jakobs raised his mace and smashed it against the wall as wooden and stone was blasted away which the Bar was almost completely deconstructed from his battle. 


Look outwardly as some groups of people looked at the destroyed bar in bits of curiosity but pistols, knives & blades were drawn which had been pointed directly Jakobs who only let out a low chuckle which he raised a hand and motioned for them to bring it on. He was ready for the big-time! A HUGE THROW-DOWN IN THE WEST WOULD BE AWESOME! His laughter came back in full force which his smile was brimming only for one thing. Some told him to leave who was still in the bar which only lightened his smirk where he looked to who it was. 


Cool. It was a cool guy. He seemed cool. Cooler than ice. Like one of those characters in those little books which those annoying girls back home always talked about with each other. A guy with a nice, looking face and seemed like he could handle himself..... But... His stance..... He hadn't drawn his blades yet but he seemed so.... combative? strong? vicious? Could chop you into bits without a care in the world..... Okay, maybe not the last one but he wouldn't go down easy.


The forehead belonging to the large-man twitched as a vein begun to protrude which Jakobs looked more directly at who told "Leave." His eyes began to take in the details, the information & the sense. He looked like he kicked ass and took names... Awesome! The Ever-Presence grin which seemed to forever be latched to the face of Jakobs reappeared in full-force.


Turning away from the people whom seek to enter after Jakobs haltered as they watched his attention be solely directed onto one man. The man with blades whom seemed to hold this calm someone who ate... someone who didn't give up his food easy. Every step that Jakobs took as he came closer and closer to the swordsman became as he seemed to put more force into every step til they were just a couple feet away from each other. Jakobs's face relaxed as he simple stated to the man who told him to do something.

"No." There was no aggression. No emotion. He spoke like it was fact. He would not obey the person who he had never met before in his life. He would not let this guy who was got caught in the crossfire of his fight and seemed angered by that mishap command him like he was some gigantic pet or slave. He owned him no loyalty. No respect. Maybe if he asked for an apology then Jakobs would've repaid it in but he followed his own commands wherever he traveled. His body was relaxed as he looked towards the one who didn't stand as tall as he had but that mattered little right as Jakobs looked down without an cockiness or enjoyment. His eyes just stared down on him - He was prepared to receive whatever strikes that this man would deliver in full force. 

[momo]

Francis' head hurt. He wasn't particularly interested in why. Perhaps he was hurt or perhaps it was the alcohol. Maybe it was both. He didn't particularly care and either way it didn't entirely matter in his book. At best, he already knew that he at least looked somewhat unkempt when it came to how he had appeared before. Crashing into an explosion of wood and alcohol tended to do that to a man. Whether forcing your way out made things better or worse he couldn't entirely say. It wasn't like he normally did the opposite and actually waited to be dragged out of his problems. He had admittedly not done that in a long time.

It wouldn't really stop him from trying to leave an imprint of the stranger's face in the ground. After all, he was pissed and angry people tended to lose a certain amount of rationality. Francis, in particular, seemed to have none when he was even irritated and right now he was definitely on a different level that just agitated.

Naturally, he didn't expect the demand to leave to actually work. If an entire bar of people piling on a man didn't do anything, why would the words of one man do anything? Still, better to say something than nothing. "Fine by me," he said flatly. He unsheathed both swords, revealing a katana and wakizashi. "But don't complain later. I hate sore losers." 

He didn't really have proof that was how things would go, but he did know that no matter how this went it wouldn't be the same as the fools waving around swords and shooting at thin air, hoping to make a hit. Unlike others, Francis actually knew how to use his blades and thus far he had no proof that said he was jumping into a fight where he was entirely out of his league. Besides, as a swordsman, he wasn't beyond desiring wanting to challenge himself and Jakobs had at least made him curious.

He didn't bother to wait. Charging forward, he found himself entirely uninterested in relying on brute strength. It wasn't his strong point and Francis was fairly sure that simply wailing on the man would mean he would be losing stamina. Better to come out strong and rely on what speed he had. Migigawa Kōzō! Relying on the katana for the attack, the cut was sharp and precise. It was an upper cut and if it didn't end up hitting Jakobs it would inevitably leave those who hadn't bothered to get out of the way at least moderately injured.

[The Last Berserker]

Jakobs K. Dutchman - 6

As the man who had his hand on his blade was displeased and annoyed by Jakobs's respond to his command. A smirk reappeared onto the large man's face - this was the stance of someone who was gonna thrown down.... Heavy. Despite this was by reaction or natural response, Jakobs lowered his body and prepared... To fight. His legs flexed as he lowered in terms of height. Just as he let his weapon got directly to his and he held in firmly in one hand whilst his other fist was clenched. The Excitement was choking him with immense enjoy as he felt his breath hitch whilst he watch the man take his first move.

The Bar was now completely empty as a majority of the folks who had been caught in the cross-fire of Jakobs early destructive brawl from beforehand. Some of the onlookers lost track as The man took another step and seemingly disappeared in a flash of speed. Watching as the man proceed to shout out an attack - Grasping his shorter blade alongside his longer one in both of his hands where he proceed to swing them upward. As the attack came at him - Jakobs only maneuvered his mace which the blades clawed against blunt weapon. Sparks formed from the clash as Jakobs proceed to push against Francis's attack. Despite Jakobs's disadvantage block leading to him taking a step backwards - This was canceled out by vigorously pushing away the Bounty Hunter which Jakobs roared aloud with excitement as he followed after the pushing away man.

Muscles flexed as his right arm became more define which his grip tighten by the slight sound of skin pressing down of the metallic handle of the weapon. He roared once more as he proceed to say. "Double Attack!" He swung his Mace horizontally which if he managed to connect somehow then he might've been able to follow up with another attack which would've been even stronger... To be fair - He wasn't all to go with Mace yet.... He wasn't but hey! Swinging for the fences has worked out well for some time. However he felt something - His memory went back to a moment.

Flashback


It was dark - A stormy night which a cloakless Jakobs stood above a small horde of bloodied Pirates. Bones were broken and they bled pints into the stone. In his hands? A massive fruit - Odd as it had multiple odd shapes, Jakobs got this fair and square from a Old Woman. She gave it to him and he was planning to eat it but these guys ambushed him.

"What ya gunna do?" A familiar voice came as Jakobs's head and rage-filled eyes snapped to where the voice had originally be located. It was the old woman - She was thin but she held energy in her. Her eyes were pure symbolizing that she was blind but she didn't walk with a cane. "I'm eating this, Lady." Jakobs stated as he brought it up to his mouth and opened his maw wide. She smirked as she watched Jakobs shove the entire thing into his mouth - His body seemed to flash a dozen colors in an instant which got a cackle from her as he fell to knees. "WHAT POISON WAS THAT?!" The Old Lady turned away and walked away as she then stated. "It isn't Poison... Take Care.... Gator Boi." Waving as she walked away only for Jakobs to pause.

His body shivered violently as his scream distorted and echoed loudly as his body shifted violently in a sudden and abnormal transformation occurred. His skin became scales. A thick paddle tail grew from his spine. His nails became clawed whilst the space between his digits became webbed. His face became that of a beast who ripped apart it's prey with vicious intent and devouring any that it would need for energy.... But his size... It was massive.

A boom roar came out and into the night sky as Jakobs had eaten a Devil Fruit.

Flashforward 

Blinking during his attack as Jakobs roared out in effort as he tried to accelerate his attack if that was at all possible, the townsfolk felt a shiver as Jakobs's form didn't seem.... natural. Coming forth as the floor exploded from the weight that Jakobs had placed into the attack as it came roaring forth... But such speed may not be able to touch the likes of Francis.

[momo]

The difference between the men was clear. Where Francis appeared to only be angry, Jakobs seemed to only radiate excitement. It wasn't something that went beyond him. After all, the other man had only been expressing glee in the face of confrontation, as if he merely fed upon battle. The brunette didn't particularly care what the reason for the stranger's attitude was. All he really knew was that he was pissed and would likely be in a lot better mood once Jakobs was out of the picture. If he had to forcibly drag the other male out of it that was fine. 

The other man didn't make a clear attempt to avoid Francis' attack. If anything, he seemed to be determined to meet it head on, bringing his mace down. It struck Francis as a clumsy move and seemed to show to some degree. After all, the smaller male had clearly already been prepared to defend, as he brought the shorter blade up as well to meet the blow of the mace. It was a loud clatter metal, sparks seeming to fly at the clash. Nonetheless, the bounty hunter found himself roughly pushed back.

This time, he was prepared. While there was no way to prevent the move, he did not fall. He was expecting a certain amount of brute strength and, if he were entirely honest, he was used to being pushed around. He was not the best swordsman he knew and he had spent a lot of his time learning to use a blade merely being knocked down. By now, it was something he knew how to deal with. If he did get knocked down, he was far too stubborn to stay down.

The other man was already moving to attack and Francis found himself moving reflexively at the other man's motions, bringing up his katana to meet the mace as it swung. It was just barely enough. While Francis seemed to have managed to avoid getting injured, he clearly was unused to holding up against such a force, having been physically been moved by it. His teeth grit, straining against the pressure, particularly since he normally did not use his katana alone to defend.

Not bothering to wait, he took advantage of the position. There didn't seem to be much time to do anything, as a roar escaped Jakobs. Eyes narrowing, something was beginning to feel less natural about the other man and he wasn't sure he wanted to wait it out and discover why that was.

As the other man came roaring forth, Francis quickly evaded it. For the most part, this was not too difficult. Speed was clearly not a talent that Jakobs had fine tuned or perhaps even used to any degree. As such, he was fairly sluggish when compared to Francis, someone whose entire fighting style relied more on strategic fighting than strength. All that truly mattered was the aftershocks of the strength that Jakobs was exhibiting. Sentō-hō! Aiming to avoid the aftershocks entirely, Francis jumped towards the other man. Relying only on his katana, he was clearly aiming more towards the man's upper body with a sweeping blow. It was sloppy, not even as close to the neck as it normally would be. However, it was clear that Francis meant to do serious damage.

[The Last Berserker]

Jakobs K. Dutchman - 7

As their weapons clashed and the sparks flew from the collision - It was obvious in terms of strength whom had the advantage. Jakobs's weapon scraped against one of Francis's blade in which a boom of noise came from the clash of fighters. Another Laugh came out as Francis's body was pushed back from the first clash of their weapons which was to be expected given the power from Jakobs's first attack being a strike from the side and aiming to stun his opponent. Francis choose to hold his ground except for going with a traditionally dodge or counter. Parry a stronger attack when it wasn't your strong suit was an unwise strategy. The face of his opponent however..... He got mad? He was in a rough-housing bar and he didn't expect to get dirty. It almost made Jakobs let out a laugh so loud that it would break glass if he let it out but his smile only widen by a tiny degree.


As Jakobs wretched his weapon back from the clashing weapons which Jakobs proceeded to grabbed his weapon with both hands upon it's handle. His grip was even greater which his feet proceed to shift and his torso rotated as splinters & glass blasted upward as Jakobs's weight shift and transferred up his body, his lead foot shifted forward and his heel had been driven down in the ground. His mace was raised up and was thrown down over his shoulder as he proceed clash once more - The ground cracked and Francis had been smashed down but he wasn't hurt by any means. More or less, he was pushed down which Francis was unsteady and unused to the impact that he had now faced. Jakobs's left fist released it's grip on the mace's handle as he prepared to throw a smashing downward onto Francis except the other man made an attempt to move.


Lunging forth which Francis used another move which Jakobs noticed immediately and the racing man whose blades had loudly sliced threw the air as it came towards Jakobs. Shifting around his mace and smashing it's head into the ground as he lifted himself off his standing position which his grip shifted and propelled him upward slightly. His fist began to clench violently and it came down. Metal clashed against flesh as a loud slice came in aloud.


But Francis felt something in his blade.... It didn't feel right.... He cut the man but... he didn't cut the man... It was like some strange thing... Weird. Jakobs's body felt like metal except it wasn't... it.... was.... weird. A smile came as Jakobs looked at his left arm, a faint & slight scratch came on his forearm that went up to bicep. Turning around as he lifted his arm to show the scratch which he laughed. That was cool! His skin felt weird when he felt that metal upon it which moved at such speed which he was sure that he would get cut.


"Cool! You can cut me!" Pointing towards his forearm with his other hand with a pleased expression which Jakobs followed with a laugh once more as he walked over to his weapon and grabbed it's handle which he swung it around and smashed the ceiling of Bar to bits which he stood up fully as he had more room to move and rolling his neck with a smirk as he charged forward and swung his mace downward which he used his charge momentum to amplify his attack whilst his immense excitement became greater and greater along with his greater blood lust.

[momo]

If someone had bothered to ask Francis why he was mad, he probably would not have had a good answer for them. Was it the fact he had gotten dirty? Perhaps it was because he had been caught off guard? Maybe it was the fact that he had crashed into the aftermath of the mess Jakobs had made? None these reasons would end up sounding good if he tried verbalizing why he was irritated with the giant of a man. The brunette had simply always been someone who was capable of getting irritated at small and petty things. He could easily recall a childhood where he had become irritated by simply the wrong word or something being done slightly wrong.

Though, crashing into an explosion of wood and alcohol was a bit more than annoying than a slight of word. Perhaps the real problem was that he already found Jakobs a nuisance. This was all, to some extent, an excuse. It wasn't like he hadn't been considering starting a fight.

It would be annoying for him to think too deeply on the subject; he didn't care in the end.

There was only more chaos to arrive to. Jakobs had clearly noticed the move before he made it, bringing him to smash the mace into the ground and creating more of a mess. Idly, the bounty hunter recognized that he might have created a problem for himself. He'd likely lose his balance once he hit ground. He couldn't imagine this not happening considering how quickly the bar was becoming a trash heap. For the moment, this was not the problem. Whatever he might have expected out of the other man, it had not been to attempt to meet his blade with his fist.

On his part, he was not surprised when the metal proved to be tougher. Strangely, this did not seem to be the same for the other man. There was an odd moment. While brief, it lasted long enough for him to realize that this might have no been what the other male had been expecting. He wasn't entirely sure whether it was odd or not that a smile, of all things, came to the man's face once the cut seemed to register.

A inelegant snort escaped him at Jakob's exclamation. "I wouldn't wield these if I didn't know how to use them," he said dryly, landing in just as an inelegant manner. The implied unlike some people was not something he bothered to hide. He'd seen enough fools in here try to swing swords at this man to realize that a good portion of the people who had come at Jakobs likely didn't even know the basics to swordsmanship. Instead, they were just swinging around swords and hoping they struck.

A curse escaped him as the other male destroyed the ceiling. It was quickly becoming clear that he needed a solid plan or else he'd likely have to be dealing with constantly having wood thrown about at him. Getting out of the bar and into the open admittedly seemed more ideal.

Eyes narrowing, he moved swiftly. Being hit would clearly be a bad idea, but in here had both a worse chance of being hit and of dealing of the after effects of whatever chaos the other male created. Outside? Not as easy. Unfortunately, this was already looking to be difficult, considering the remains of the bar that he was having to work over and that Jakobs didn't seem to be taking breaks.