Clown of Gecko Island (laskt)

[eli]

A storm casting over a vast ocean stood before the Mink. His lack of knowledge of the sea was something that had capsized him once before. This time he was determined to brave this storm and make landfall. After a few vigorous hours of fighting the tidal storm he finally reached land.

Quickly he would drop his anchor and leap from his craft planting his body face first into the sandy shores. Gratefully, he would kiss the sand before rising. His eyes would begin to dart from side to side attempting to get some idea of where the hell he actually was.

”Where the hell am I?”

The only logical choice was to look for some sign of life. Hopefully, this wasn’t some uninhabited island. Upon his travel he finally noticed a small village. Unsure how his appearance might bode with the locals he was unsure of how to approach them. Being a mink they were often prejudiced for their appearance.

So he did what any person with common sense would do… make a stylish entrance! From the bushes he would leap towards the crowded city square. He would then stand tall and turn to the side placing one of his hands on his forehead.

”Greetings, the great Bandito has arrived. Uh, what island are we on?”

The villagers would fall on their sides from his epic fail at looking cool. A loud boisterous laughter would almost sound like thunder.

”Where the hell am I?” He would shout in a frustrated roar.

Laskt

[Laskt]

“And the Demmie was like BOOOSH, and the guy was knocked clean off the deck! Not even the guy’s magic could save him. It was awesome!”

The drunken rabble cheered at the conclusion of Phoebe’s story, the subsequent slamming of tankards on the table sending froths of alcohol flying in every direction. Some of the liquid splashed across the patrons, including a very unhappy Idoc Zaitli.

The spearman was, to put it simply, babysitting. Deman was off negotiating with the village elder for supplies and news, and the rest of the crew was taking some well-deserved rest back on the ship. Unfortunately for poor Idoc, Phoebe had far too much much energy to, as she put it “laze around on a booorrring wooden box”. Not wanting to lose the excitable girl on an innocent settlement, the spearman reluctantly followed her.

And immediately regretted it.

The newly christened Suzaku sighed, pushing his sopping hair out of his eyes and taking a deep pull of his drink. He was considering the merits of dragging Phoebe back to the ship by her ear when it happened, a single blessed distraction.

The tavern went quiet as the frustrated roar rang out across the town, cutting Phoebe off in mid-sentence and sending the villagers scrambling backward. Idoc slowly stood, giving a nod to Phoebe before the pair walked out the door. Idoc’s fingers drummed against his spear butts as he looked out across the scene unfolding in the center of the village. “It’s called Gecko Island I believe. Who are you?”

[eli]

The anger he was feeling towards the townsfolk for mocking him in spectacular fashion was quickly faded by an unfamiliar voice. He wasn’t much for being shown up in any form but this man knew how to make an entrance.

”Finally, someone with a helpful answer!” He would proclaim waving his hands in the air.

He wasn’t looking to stir up a fuss, yet, it almost always seemed to end up that way. Bad luck, maybe? Trying to muster up as much manly grit as possible to retort.

”My name is Bandito and I am merely a shipwright in search of a thrill.”

He was giving his best attempt at sounding cool so he decided to withhold the fact that he was lost in a storm which caused him to lose track of his location.

”Gecko Island, huh?”

He would mutter as he pulled out his waterlogged map trying to make heads or tails of the fading ink. His eyes would then fart back to the man. Why was he questioning him about his identity, was he a marine protecting the village?

”So, what’s your name stranger?” he would question nonchalantly.

There was an aura about this man that just reeked of power, and alcohol. His tail would sway from side to side in the wind as he tried to process the thought of fighting this man. Could he win, or was this all just some over embellished notion he had concocted out of paranoia?

Laskt