Crossroads Jun 11, 2020 11:17:48 GMT -5
Post by Lord Bromosalino on Jun 11, 2020 11:17:48 GMT -5
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If there was any word that would describe the morning, it would be pleasant. The sky overhead was as clear as it could be and was only obstructed by the occasional lazy cloud that sluggishly meandered across the sky. The sun overhead shone brightly, lighting the path with its orange hue as it began to climb over the edge of the horizon in preparation for the long journey it would endure. The ocean, too, mirrored the sky in its peaceful nature. The deep blue lapped against the solitary "The Little Cissonius," allowing the caravel to gently roll over itself. Even the few seagulls in the air dared not disturb the calm nature of the morning; their generally harsh squawks were subdued and few and far between. And as the merchant ship briskly skipped across the slow rolling waves, even the usual ruffling of the lateen sails were muffled. It was, in a word, pleasant.
The Marine (on sabbatical, as he had all to used to saying in the last several months) on deck, too, adopted the same attitude as nature around him. With his usual cup of dark roasted coffee in hand, Isaac Saifer had been up long before the rest of the crew of "The Little Cissonius." He had always been a morning person, a habit he had picked up from his hardworking father. The early bird gets the worm was a much repeated phrase in the Saifer household, and now Isaac too, many years later, could not shake the habit of waking long before the sun woke from its slumber. And now standing at the fore of the nimble caravel, the man had been able to detach himself from the last several weeks and simply enjoy the beautiful creation before him with his own eyes. Well, his own eye, his left eye hidden beneath an eye patch to mask the disfigured organ.
The semi-retired Marine had had an eventful three weeks. He had traveled to two separate islands and had somehow found himself involved in the core of those island's affairs. Bupae Island, he recounted, was the first island he had visited. He had heard of the poverty born from a systemic corruption from the government's leaders. Isaac himself had been born among the world's most privileged, his family was not only fantastically wealthy but also held a noble status. As such, upon deciding to take a recess from the Marine Organization, the Lieutenant Junior Grade officer made it a point to visit the improvised island. What he found there had shocked him to his core and angered him deeply. Poverty, drugs, crime, and abuse ran rampant from the slums of the island to the highest levels of the government. And its cause? The Hideki family. Specifically James "Red Sparrow" Hideki, the patriarch.
Through a meeting of chance more than anything else, Isaac found himself partnering with another group of visitors. Pluto, Rebecca, Ara. All three of them were young, much younger than the twenty-six year old Isaac. Yet, they seemed to have carried more scars and secrets than even the battle tested Marine. They were each unique in their personalities and abilities, though Pluto stood out like a sore thumb even among the other two. His destructive capabilities, despite his young age, dwarfed even the Marine officer's, causing much speculation in Isaac's own mind about how a boy like Pluto could remain a complete enigma to the rest of the world. In fact, even now, Isaac was convinced that Pluto was part of the Revolutionary Army. That should have put the two males at immediate odds.
It did, surprisingly, not. Through a bit of arm twisting, upon reflection, Isaac and Pluto had not only partnered together to survive on the harsh concrete streets of Bupae, they had managed to do something special. They had destroyed the source of income for the Red Sparrows and even managed to defeat the number two of the government; James' most trusted advisor, his son Kory. James, however, was currently off of the island making some sort of deal on Sabaody. And though Isaac could not help but worry over the future of the ragtag trio, the party could only ever be united for a brief moment. Isaac had to push forward and pursue the head of the Hideki family on Sabaody in order to finally free the people of Bupae. A part of him did hope to run into the three children one day. He had grown quite fond of them.
From there, the Marine re-boarded the "The Little Cissonius" in hopes of catching James before he could leave the archipelagos. The brisk caravel, however, had been unable to fully restock their supply on Bupae. As such, Captain Imbros had opted to dock their vessel the Stronghair Island. This island was everything that Bupae was not. Warm, friendly, hospitable. Having made the acquaintance of King Ede of the Marchen Kingdom, a lifelong friend of Captain Imbros, Isaac once again found himself caught up in the affairs of their people. A troll attack during a feast had turned the relatively calm city up on its head. And due to Isaac's own moral leanings and teachings he had inherited from his former mentor, the Marine was found among the ranks of the soldiers of the Marchen Kingdom. And though he was happy to have helped the people in their efforts, three more days had been eaten away and wasted.
It was not all for naught. He had, as was often the case in his many battles, improved upon his natural abilities as well as developing new techniques. It was the unintended, though helpful, consequences of constantly involving himself in battles and skirmishes. And as was the case after each campaign, Isaac could feel the deep gash that ran from his left shoulder to the bottom of his hip ache the next day. And though his wounds have long healed (a remnant of his younger years), the young man's course hands ran over the scar; like a tongue poking and feeling the empty space a fallen tooth had left. Isaac speculated this had come from the anxiety and adrenaline that followed the ending of each mission. Whether it was from the intensive physical and mental toll or his desire to engage once more, he was not sure. It often meant that he was unable to sleep peacefully for days at a time afterwards.
Last night had been one of those nights.