Jungle Fever! The Blue Dragon's Redemption!

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

Almost like a mirror reflex, Phoebe smiled back at Pacha and echoed his laugh with her own. The two seemed to be pretty much on the same wavelength, Deman thought; in almost the same vein, Phoebe pictured in her mind she practically was Pacha's friend already. She was always one to make friends quick, or otherwise bug other people so much that they would eventually concede.
The fishwoman replied to Pacha's tongue by pushing down on an eyelid; she figured that could have been a funny face too. It wasn't clear why she had to respond with a funny face as well, but she did so without thinking.

Deman, on the other hand, carefully listened to the professor. A grin of pure satisfaction appeared on his face as soon as the man mentioned his intuition was, in fact, correct; there's probably no greater satisfaction than to take a shot in the dark, following a mere glint, and hit the mark. "I'm glad you could prove me correct, Professor, thanks. It looked like the most reasonable chain of deductions."

His expression turned upside down quickly afterwards, his mouth tightening into a slit.
"Nobles wanting to preserve their status? Doesn't sound new to me." Deman looked visibly annoyed by the mere thought. This annoyance was twofold: on the one hand, it was always the nobles who did something wrong and used their power to hide the truth; on the other, hiding the records actually prevented the archaeologists' from progressing. And on top of that, he wanted to know if his hunch was right once again - but he couldn't, without the records.
"Nobles can't run away from the truth. If someone does something wrong, all it takes is a mind's eye sharp enough to see and connect all the pieces." That sentence needed some context, for sure, so he thought up an example. "Imagine you find a human jaw bone from hundreds of years ago. The jaw only has one tooth, consumed enamel, and the rest had fallen out."

"If you wanted to hide the truth, you could say that's just an old weird bone. However..."

"If the jaw only has one tooth, the person it belonged to couldn't eat a lot of the typical food for humans. But you know that they had been eating something, because the enamel is consumed." He tapped on his forehead, all wrinkled from the frowning. "This means that someone had to help them eat. Once you get that, it's not difficult to imagine that could have been a common occurrence. Therefore, there could have been a group of people who practiced compassion towards one another, practicing morals. And once you get that, it's not difficult to imagine that there could have been an entire society built around those morals."

"That old weird bone implied the existence of much more than just one person!"

He stopped for a second. The reason why he had brought the topic up was still not clear, something in his mind said; he had to be a little more explicit. "Those who hide the truth and manipulate it... I can't stand them. It's an intellectual yoke; me, and all those people you see following me, are all related by the same sentiment towards this yoke. Towards yokes of all kinds."
Deman had just finished talking when a bearded man in crusty clothes approached him. "Commander White Tiger" he said, "we have finished preparing the tents and the tools to recover the last few items from the wreck like you suggested. We still couldn't find your sword, however..." "It's fine, Temugin. Tell the others I'll look for it myself, tomorrow morning."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Fennec]

-- CHAPTER III // Jungle Fever

There was no doubt about it! Deman was both charismatic and knowledgeable. Silently, Pacha and the professor remained hearing Deman's every word about the matter of the skull and nobles. The whole situation rubbed Pacha a bit wrong... and by the looks of the professor, it seemed like he too was quite distraught. The two were not particularly fond of the World Government or nobles. Pacha for his part was never treated all too well by World Government officials for his race.

The professor on the other hand had his own reasons. But they still didn't enjoy the prospect of this conversation. Men like Deman, knowledgeable, and well-spoken while alluring were also dangerous. It wasn't like either the Professor or Pacha loved ignorance... quite the contrary they agreed with Deman's words. The problem was getting in potential trouble... the Mink didn't want to deal with angry officials and neither did the professor again for their own respective reasons.

"You're a smart man... the world needs more like-minded individuals like you, Deman."

The Professor remarked, still a bit wary. Unlike Pacha the old man was already in the know... it became more apparent to him the more time passed. The code names, wordiness, the large group. These men and women were not Marines for they didn't wear uniforms. Nor were these men and women pirates for they were too coordinated. These men and women were Revolutionaries. Fixing his glasses the professor spoke up once more.

"I should get back to my studies... I've taken a far too long break."

Pacha viewed the old man walk away and head to his tent. In a timely fashion, Sal arrived with a large buck she'd caught out in the woods. The blonde woman stood on the outskirts of the camp with the beast slung over her shoulders mildly perplexed at the sight of Deman, Phoebe, and all the other people in the surrounding area.

"Well if you gentlemen were gonna invite more people I would have gone hunting for more bucks."

She chuckled hauling the dead beast over to a nearby tree. Pacha quickly turned around to view the strong woman go about her work.

"Aye! Deman! Phoebe! This is our third member, her names Sally... but she likes going by Sal instead."

The Mink introduced her. He then leaned over to Deman and began to whisper.

"Shes just joking you bunch can stay with us and feast if you want. I'm sure the others would be delighted."

Pacha chuckled rushing over to help Sal with the buck to prepare it for tonight's meal.

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

"And I thank you," Deman replied, nodding softly, "for the good you do for humanity." As he said those words, he didn't even take his eyes off the pillar. Phoebe, on the other hand, nodded harder: "Yea" she said, "jaw bones are cool."
Deman tried his best to smile without wheezing at the last, nearly random remark of his companion. There was no doubt about it, she liked meeting new people; she had understood that Deman's talk could stick out to others, or be even charming at times. Normally, she wouldn't have said anything; the only reason why she spoke about that same subject - a jaw bone - was to imitate him, hoping to get the same results.
Apparently, she was also charming to others. Just... in her own unique way.

It didn't take long before the illusive huntress would show up. Sal, as Pacha introduced her; Phoebe shot up a hand and waved, while Deman simply walked towards the woman. He nodded, as a form of greeting.
"My name is Deman Reeves. I'm sorry about all the chaos: a storm took us by surprise last night; I met Pacha and the professor by pure chance. I hate having to ask a favour so quick into our conversation, but we are going to need your help in the near future." He looked at the girl in the eyes, locking their gazes. "Some of my men are more than capable of hunting, and we have firearms - well, we had, hoping they aren't all soaked. What most of them lack is experience. Experience that you can provide to them."
He turned towards Pacha, and continued. "I don't expect any of you to help out of kindness. When we're back on our feet, there shall be compensation. Phoebe!" He called, averting his eyes. The girl trotted to Deman's location. "Go take your rifle and inform your division. Food supplies will run low faster than we expect, nobody is eating moist salty hardtack." "Alright!" She replied, and trotted away.

When they were left "alone", Deman followed up with a question that piqued his interest. "So you have a huntress and a professor in archaeology. Is your job to guard the professor too, Pacha? Or are you here to study, yourself?"
After all, it was a reasonable thought. While it made sense that the professor would have two bodyguards for himself, Pacha looked somewhat more personally involved. "It was you who brought the professor the skull. I'm assuming this isn't about his own research."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[/div]

[Fennec]

-- CHAPTER III // Jungle Fever

The huntress turned to look at Deman, she flipped her hair to better accommodate it. Frankly, Sal was considering braiding it... it would likely be the most optimal given the hot humid environment they were in... even so, she loved to have her hair loose. It was a symbol of her pride and freedom. It's why she chose to become a big game hunter in the first place.

"Its all good Mr. Reeves, if Pacha and the professor approve of your presence than I'd garner you're worth helping. After all, I trust their ability to gauge character."

She simply replies turning back to the buck which was now getting tied up by Pacha. Its legs tied to a rope that hung down from the nearby tree. The woman went to get some buckets and as she did she turned back to Deman.

"I'd more than happily help your men hunt. For now, they can help me by getting some hot water to skin the beast."

Sal remarked to Deman, just then Pacha dropped down from the tree and grabbed an empty bucket himself.

"You can follow us to the river if you wish."

---

From then on the whole, the afternoon was spent setting up camp for Deman's men as well as setting up a feast by hunting some more games. Overall things went well! There was more than enough food to go around for everyone and the fires made sure to keep the insects at bay. Much of the night was spent speaking with great merriment among the people of the camp who were simply happy to be alive especially after that great storm they went through.

After everything was said and done each went to their tent to rest. Ready for a wondrous day ahead! A foolish endeavor if there ever was one... for a curse was to come upon them all. Malicious eyes looked upon the camp and its people from the company. They were not the eyes of a spirit or animal. No, they were the eyes of greedy men... ones who were so very far from home.

---

Below the canopy...

A man stands in a ruin not too far from the camp. The interior of the room is dimly lit by various candles placed sporadically across the room... several other people all with little upwards pointing wings. All are sitting in pieces of rubble scattered across the cracked mossy bricks that form the majority of this mystic place. Silent. Minding their own business for the most part.

The main man in question is at a car end sitting on a stone throne decorated with chiseled jaguars. He much like his companions also have upturned wings... his skin is copper in color. His hair is straight, long, and black like charcoal. Much of his body is covered in white ritualistic war paint shaped like various swirls. He stands still reading at a black book written in Hebrew silently to himself.

splish splash splish splash

The pitter-patter of water splashing about came from just outside the ruin. A man with white hair, copper-colored skin, and upturned wings came into the room.

"Master Eloxoco!"

The voice of the newcomer echoed through the ruin capturing the attention of all who was present. Their heads quickly turning to view the white-haired man in question... but his eyes were locked on the leader of them all. The one on the thrown... the one he called Eloxoco. In turn, Eloxoco's eyes slowly moved away from the book and rolled up to lock onto his subordinate. His face was blank and emotionless

"What's the matter Ocelotl?

Exoloco simply spoke, his voice was deep and commanding. It boomed like thunder echoing through the gritty ruins. The spymaster, Ocelotl flinched... his master intimated him a fact that made even a rat-like him afraid of rebelling against the powerful figure. It didn't help that Exoloco also had the mark of the Devil on him... he'd consumed one of the so-called 'Devil Fruits' which according to legend were just pieces of the Sea Devil's soul.

"Yes... master... I umm... the group we were following has grown."

Ocelotl muttered, he knew this message would likely upset his master and he wasn't wrong. It did upset Exoloco... but the man didn't show his anger. Instead, he simply looked back down at his black book for a moment just before closing it with one hand.

The sound of the book closing sending an echo through the damp ruin. Exoloco raised his head up and looked into Ocelotl's eyes with his very own dark brown ones... there was a great intensity to his eyes. One that sent a cold chill down Ocelotl's spine.

"They did? That's was unexpected."

The master replies, he raises his free hand up causing everyone in the room to stand up. Even Ocelotl who had been kneeling down before him in fear stood up on Exoloco's command. There was no one who dared defy the man's command.

"Angelica!"

He called out, a woman of about average height that had tan-colored skin and jet-black hair walked up to Exoloco. She quickly knelt down before him, her brown eyes on the ground.

"Yes, Master Exoloco?"

She simply asked, her voice confident and clear, unlike Ocelotl's nervous stutter. Exoloco smiled he motioned for her to stand up before him and she did as he said.

"Rally the troops... for tonight we strike."

Angelica nodded.

"I'll see it done."

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

Deman replied with a quick nod and a smile. "Thank you for your cooperation" he declared, before turning around and talking to some of his militia. With a group of four to five armed people, he came back to join Sal on the hunt.

With phoebe marching on the front, bucket on her head pretending to be a friend they had met along the way, they all reached the river and gathered the much needed water. All in all, Deman thought, the disaster they had to endure was over; and maybe they could start building back from close to scratch, as that storm had left them.

"Demmie, what do we do when we find it?"

"Phoebe... please, sleep. I don't know what you're talking about."

"The city! What do we do when we find the city!" The pale light of the moon peeked through the holes in Deman and Phoebe's tent. The white-haired swordsman sighed, and turned his back to her. "We need to recover our things from the sea first. It's going to be tiring, we both need to sleep."
"Ah, what a grumpy old man you are. I'm sure there's a lot of secret passages, doors that lead to the final treasure!" Deman turned back, lifting himself up on an elbow; he smiled through the half-asleep expression on his face. "Secret passages? Treasure? Are you sure it's a city you're thinking of?"
"I dunno. I just want them to find... something. Something important." A moment of silence was more than enough for Phoebe to understand she had to explain herself. "When I was far from home, like Pacha, all I wanted was to find, I dunno... something. Something important. Something that would make me feel like my journey meant something, and I wasn't just running around."
Deman chuckled, and laid back down tugging on his side of the sheets.
"You're too good for this world, Pheebs. Now we should both go back to sleep."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Fennec]

-- CHAPTER III // Jungle Fever

The night was off for Pacha, he constantly felt restless like something was wrong. But he simply could not explain what was wrong. Opening his eyes up within his tent he felt his ears twitch a bit from a ringing he heard in the distance that had been keeping him up. It was like a murmur... but it wasn't just that... it was something else that was keeping him from sleep.

A certain spine chilling feeling that things were going bad. Pacha rubbed his face and let out a sigh as he stood up from his sleeping bag. The ringing in his ears now becoming the rumbling of distant drums like a thunderstorm headed their way.

Was it the same storm that had attacked Deman or earlier? Or perhaps was it the sound of war drums that he heard? Where his suspicions about Deman true? Was that storm not a literal storm but rather a metaphor for trouble? Finally standing up Pacha walked out of his tent to look outside... unsurprisingly a few people from around the camp were also looking out at the wilderness and the drumming sound coming from outside. Seconds passed... minutes passed... the sound got closer and with it the glint of flames among the trees.

"Deman..."

Pacha marched over to Deman's tent, he didn't barge in. He was angry but that was no excuse to be rude... at this point, his only explanation for this ordeal could be Deman. After all, Pacha had smelt nothing but trouble from him. The way he spoke! Charismatic and ever so inquisitive. It was like a politician...? No like a lawyer? No, it was like a proclaimer of freedom! Like a man with a man wanting to excite a revolution at his toes. So much for a so-called toymaker.

"Why I outta!"

But before Pacha could finish his line. Before he could think any further! His thoughts were split by lightning followed by thunder.

"HAIL! ALL!"

A voice boomed through the camp which was now surrounded by various men and women. All with upturned wings and bronze-colored skin. Angel's from a distant land beyond the reaches of what anyone in the camp had gone for that was for sure. Why? What was the meaning of this all? Pacha turned around to look at the marauders armed with bows, bolas, atlatls, and obsidian clubs.

The one leading them the one with the booming voice stood above a stone pillar that wasn't there before. A man with bronze skin, white hair, and a jaguar pelt... standing above all like a king among men. A leader to command them all. His face turned down to look at the group revealing the various swirls of white face paint that adorned his face.

"You have something... I want. Had it over peacefully and there won't be problems."

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

ごろごろ...
[Rumble rumble...]

Deman frowned at the noise that kept him awake. Phoebe was sleeping soundly, or so it seemed. He could have just slept it over and be done with it, but that constant rumbling felt like adding insult to injury on the weather's part. And for a person who was born with the fine hearing of a feline it sounded like a constant drum roll coming from just outside.
Deman realised that something was not quite right when he also heard the rustling of grass and leaves of a few people walking around, some close to his tent too; he sat up and instinctively reached for his sword.
But, of course, the sword wasn't there. He grabbed the empty scabbard, cursing his luck, and the dagger. As there was no immediate threat to the tent and its content, he turned around: "Phoebe" he called, shaking the girl's shoulder, "wake up."

When he peeked outside, he saw the scene unfold before his eyes. They were under attack? In this condition, Shijin could not have sustained an organised attack - not from the Marines, and not from anyone with just half as many available soldiers.
Deman pushed the tent's cover to the side, rushing out, and found himself back against back with his trusted companions: and then he realised, that they were surrounded.
From the oddly shaped weapons he deduced that whatever was up against them, they must have been marauders - or, at the very least, they couldn't have been there for Shijin. On the one hand, this gave him less of a headache, but on the other, it didn't rule out the idea that they could have been after Pacha's group instead.


Their leader's words confirmed the hunch. In all honesty, it was Pacha's problem; Deman could just as well have chosen to let them take him and the professor away.
But he decided not to, for they had some questions to find the answer to; answers that likely needed precisely what was asked of them - if Deman's hunch about it was correct - and they had the right to find answers. After all, what would Phoebe think if they didn't find the treasure in the end?

"You rush into my territory at night, you advance requests... Just who do you think you are?"

Deman swung the scabbard forward, pointing it at the speaker above the crowd. It was quite ironic how the same sentence applied to him in a sense - but it didn't matter, for he only wanted to become the center of his attention.
Hopefully he would gather enough time for them to understand that the best course of action, thinking in advance, was to hide the requested item. "We should all go back to sleep. It's past your bedtime."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Fennec]

-- CHAPTER III // Jungle Fever

Deman's set of questions simply prompted a cackle from the tall thin man standing over the mossy pillar. He put his hand on his chest as he laughed in a very posh manner. Until he cut the whole charade short and simply stared down at Deman with an annoyed expression. It had been some time since someone had thought it a good idea to stand up to him... and this white-haired fellow would soon know that he! Eloxoco was not someone to be trifled with.

"Who am I? Why I'm none other than High Priest Eloxoco."

The band of bronze-skinned women and men that surrounded the camp began to cheer in excitement as Eloxoco introduced himself. Pacha remained silent looking up at the man on his high pedestal... he wondered how he'd gotten on such a pillar one that hadn't been there before. But perhaps that didn't wholly matter at the moment... this man was clearly after something and that something was the skull. Why though? He didn't seem to be a simple treasure hunter so there must have been something else to it.

"Bedtime? Are we children? Last I checked we're all adults here... who do YOU think you are that you believe yourself capable of questioning ME! Answer me with haste before my patience wanes."

Eloxoco commanded Deman, this was a clash... Deman had already stood up to him in a sense. A born leader who fought for his beliefs... but here he was mirrored by another man. One who fought for his belief with an equal amount of zeal. Things were going to explode no matter how Pacha looked at it. There was likely no way to peace both parties. Not to mention if this High Priest guy wanted his skull he would have to fight Pacha himself for it.

"I'm waiting!!! Three! Two..."

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

"Three, two, one..."

Deman had recently lost many of the people he considered brothers and sisters. He lost his second-in-command, and with him, a small part of his conviction to continue forward. What was the point of going forwards, after all, if all he could do was send these people to their deaths.
What he needed was an even harder grip on reality. Imagine that: a man who doubted for only a second that he could accomplish what he set sail to accomplish. Unthinkable, utterly contradictory. And if he didn't want to allow such a contradiction to exist, he must have reaffirmed his identity right there and then.
His features hardened, his jaw tightening as listened to the countdown.

"I am Byakko, the White Tiger!"

He roared, releasing the tension of his thoughts. Deman's words echoed over a brief moment of silence, stemming from the interruption of the man on the high pillar. "Shijin is the army I command! And I stand among my brothers and sisters, I walk tall but never taller than them!"
He roared again, the determination that inspired his words expressed with his body language: a solid stance, and a serious gaze, piercing the black of night. "Pathetic display, forlorn demeanor. You elevate yourself above them, you tiptoe in, covered by the storm, pretending to be the thunder that can boss everyone around. You approach with the storm, but I am..."

"I am the storm that is approaching!"

The storm.
Seiryu, the Blue Dragon of the East, is the guardian that keeps the weather in check; he controls the storms, lighting and thunder. He represents the vigorous energy of nature in its most primal, unpredictable state. "Now turn back where you came from, High Priest. Before the rain comes crashing down."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Fennec]

-- CHAPTER III // Jungle Fever

"Insolence..."

The bronze man uttered from his pedestal, Deman's speech filling him with such fury that his face felt hot. How dare this insolent low life insult his pride? He would pay and so would everyone in the camp until his wrath was sated. Men like Exoloco existed everywhere in places of power with fragile egos they lash out at those weaker as they hide behind a facsimile of power. Of bravery. He would never admit it but the High Priest felt threatened. Deman's words carried a certain threatening aura to them... one that felt like a creeping cold at the back of Exoloco's head. One that made the small hairs on his neck stand tall and stiff.

"...I asked nicely but now you will pay. Clearly, you are not worth my forgiving nature."


The ground slowly began to shake as pillars began to rise from around the camp trapping everyone inside along with the marauders. This was about to become a hell pit filled to the brim with blood. Exoloco now had a crazed look on his face... his suppressed sadism coming out to taunt the crowd before him. Pacha couldn't help but stir in discomfort... he'd remained silent since this was all escalating way out of hand. Deman's speech... Exoloco's madness. It was a bit much for him he had to admit. But amidst all that, Deman's determination had sparked great pride in him... he felt a will! A drive! A drive to fight. Turning the man next to him. The one who had taken a mantel despite his breakdown. Pacha only managed to utter.

"I... Deman why?"

Pacha's voice however was completely overpowered by the Exoloco who now was raising his voice. Like thunder, he commanded his band of villainous marauders to attack.

"Ocelotl! Angelica! Rally them, men! Raze this camp! Burn them to their bones and then burn them again! Until nothing but ashes remain! Get me that DAMN SKULL!"

His commands were heard loud and clear as now the entire group of marauders began to close in on the entire team. Ocelotl grimaced, fighting was something he wasn't exactly fond of. Meanwhile, Angelica rolled her eyes... her boss was always excessive. In less than two seconds the first few gunshots were heard and soon the camp was in a state of disarray.

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

Deman had only one brief moment to turn towards Pacha. His simple question had such a convoluted answer - but, after all, did it really matter to explain why? He only just smirked, fleetingly.
When he turned back, the battlefield had already changed shape. "Get into formation!" He yelled, waving to the back lines; his eyes caught a pair of marauders taking the opportunity to attack him from the two sides. The swords swung in for the kill, and crossed in the middle, producing the characteristic metallic sound: but Deman wasn't there where they aimed for.

They hadn't even noticed - such was his speed - when he took one step forwards to avoid their crossed strike. "The white tiger's whiskers", he called it; his ability to dodge by a hair.
The swordsman turned around completely, smacking the two attackers in the head with the wood of his scabbard. Incapacitated, they fell to the ground to rest in the dirt.

シュー...
[Fzzzt...]

The signature sound of a fuse went off not too far from Pacha's position. Very close, on the other side, a powerful explosion blew up one of the tents, along with the belongings inside. There was no mistake: they were raining down bombs for their assault too.
Following back the trajectory of the bombs, it was possible to track the position of one particular marauder; she was wielding the grenade launcher firmly by her side, showering the poor Shijin soldiers with as many bombs as she could.

ドッカーン!
[Boom!]

Curiously, no bombs seemed to land in places dense with people, on the contrary, they were always aimed far on the outside.

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // 白虎の髭 - Byakko no Hige
The School of the White Tiger relies not on using the weapon defensively, as it insists on being the first - and the last - to strike. If the need arises, however, the warrior must be ready to sharpen their senses and dodge incoming attacks. Deman learned to move his body just enough for the hit to miss by a few centimeters - in the heat of battle, the opponent will not realize their strike hasn't landed and will find themselves confused and disoriented.The technique's name refers to the innate ability of felines to use their whiskers in order to feel the environment as well as hostile attacks.
Translation: "Whiskers of the White Tiger".

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Angelica

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Fennec]

-- CHAPTER III // Jungle Fever

[Pacha] 

The mink was left in utter shock as the only thing he got for an answer was a fleeting smirk. Nothing else, no words came out of Deman's lips. No concrete answer was given to Pacha's simple why which arguably had a rather deep answer. But perhaps now wasn't the moment to question the white-haired man's decision on the matter. It was a time of action as Deman's words had kickstarted a mass war against the people of the camp and the marauders.

"..."

Pacha was speechless, for just as Deman was done with his speech he got into battle like a military leader. Who was Deman? No simple toymaker was like this. There had to be more to him! Was he perhaps an ex-marine? Or maybe something else? There were so many questions popping up in Pacha's brain every second. Shaking his head profusely he decided to get back into action pulling out his Macuahuitl in one hand and card in the other.

"Arc-ane Bolt!"

The mink yelled dishing out an electro covered card at an unsuspecting marauder. He was very entranced in the combat clashing his club with marauders who held a variety of weapons. Most were nothing too special, likely civilians or bandits forced into this line of work by some tyrannical leader. Eloxoco perhaps? Or perhaps a higher power... after all Eloxoco claimed to be a High Priest of sorts and not exactly a monarch. This was all quite suspicious for Pacha. Just as he finished off the last marauder in his immediate vicinity he got to witness the flashiest thing in his life. Two marauders got into a few of Deman brandishing blades ready to pierce him.

"No! Deman!"

Pacha exclaimed readying one of his cards to knock down one marauder. But just as soon as he took out his card, Deman disappeared and the two blades clashed with a loud clang. Perplexed Pacha stood still watching all of this unfold before him. How did this even happen? Suddenly Deman reappeared behind them to attack them quickly, this was a surprise for Pacha! He had never seen someone move with such speed.

"How did..."

FZZZT 

Pacha turned around hearing an odd noise... before he could find what he was bombarded by a loud explosion which sent him tumbling back. Far away from Deman.

BOOM

The mink groaned in plain having lost grip of his club, he turned around looking for the source of the explosion. There was a ring in his ear and the blazing world around him seemed to move around sporadically. It was madness, his senses had been overwhelmed if ever so slightly. Putting a hand down on the ground he forced himself up still in shock from the loud explosion. As his eyes adjusted he saw Angelica blasting with her grenade launcher. The source of the explosion. Still, in a daze, Pacha reached out for his club... one eye squinting from the pain he felt in his muscles.

"Bitch... you'll pay for that one."

Charging up electro around one of his cards he prepared for an attack. The blue light of his lightning crackling loudly a contrast against the deep orange world that surrounded them from the blazing flames.

"Arc-ane Bolt!"

Pacha yelled out flicking the card straight toward Angelica.

[Ocelotl]

His boss had been clear, dispose of Deman and get the skull. After that speech, it was clear to Eloxoco (his boss) that Deman was the mastermind behind this entire operation. Brandishing his Macuahuitl in one hand and a shield decorated in feathers on the other the bronze-skinned sky-person walked through the blazing night up to Deman. He stood, back arched, eyes locked, and arms shaking. Ocelotl was a warrior but he had to admit, Deman did pose a great presence. No matter, like an untamed beast he would defeat this foolish king.

"Umm uhhh, heads up!"

Ocelotl yelled raising his club high up in the air for a downward bash on Deman's skull. If Deman was quick to react his club would come down cracking the earth below... causing a small fissure to form. If he wasn't quick enough then he would be dazed and in a lot of pain. The strength behind Ocelotl's attack was tenfold that of an average marauder after all. Unlike them, he'd been gifted with a strength that far surpassed normal men... strength nearing that of a Fishman. Despite his meek manner of speech, he was no joke.

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // Arc-ane Bolt [Rank 2]
Pacha uses his electro to charge up one of his tarot cards and throws it at the target shocking them.

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

In that fight, Deman was at a total disadvantage. He was a swordsman, without a weapon. His hearing was exceptional, but the sound of explosions only gave him tinnitus.

He was a tiger without claws, and he'd drawn himself in the cage of the poacher.

"Umm uhhh, heads up!" He got a dangerous reminder of that when he narrowly avoided the large club of his opponent. Almost by pure reflexes, Deman dodged the attack by a hair; he witnessed the damage the club had done on the ground, and thanked himself.
"Big muscles, no brain?" Grasping firmly the empty scabbard, Deman took a quick breath and reached into his coat with the other hand. He dashed towards his enemy, getting dangerously close, and released his hand from inside the coat: surprisingly, it was clutching his dagger. The attack was meant to slash his adversary's exposed limb, to weaken them and possibly make them drop the weapon.

The card firmly lodged itself in a crevice of the weapon and discharged, shocking the user through conduction. "Gah!" Angelica gasped, dropping her grenade launcher right then and there.
The girl inspected her weapon: "A card?" she thought out loud; Angelica picked the launcher up again and plucked the card out. It didn't take long for her to realise where the card came from, as the blue light of the electricity gave away its trajectory.
And then, the unthinkable happened. "Don't touch my Sarukh Abl!" she exclaimed somewhat angrily. In a flash, Angelica took aim and pulled the trigger; however, nothing came of it. The firing mechanism had gone haywire.
Angelica's facial expression didn't change much, but perhaps exactly because of her neutrality, or maybe because of the flames reflecting off of her eyes, her face exuded pure anger.

"You..."

One stride after the other, her weapon still firmly in her hand, she picked up the pace towards Pacha; and when she got close enough, she dashed forwards as her free hand swung in for the punch - straight towards Pacha's face.

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Angelica

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Fennec]

-- CHAPTER III // Jungle Fever

[Ocelotl]

The large man frowned, he didn't like getting called out like that. It hurt his feelings quite a bit, his brows furrowed in anger from Deman's statement.

"Rude!!"

He said just as Deman went to jab the dagger into his arm. Ocelotl was a brute in terms of combat, but he was a quick brute who knew the art of fighting. A proud and strong Jaguar Warrior! Quickly he retreated his arm and placed his shield in its place. The dagger slammed into the shield. Something odd happened, there was no recoil. With a dastardly smile, the warrior looked down at Deman. He was going to get his revenge!

"Karma!"

Ocelotl exhaled as he slammed his shield toward Deman at full power. A shield bash, however, unlike a normal shield this one had a lot more power behind it. The sky warrior had installed an impact dial on his shield. So that strikes could be repelled with an extra empowered shield bash. If Deman wasn't careful he was about to be hit with a world of pain.

---

[Pacha]

Pacha had shocked the grenade launcher canceling it out for some time. That was rather successful! The mink didn't doubt his pinpoint precision but still, it was a difficult task especially in this shrouding darkness. Regardless it had been done the explosions stopped! The woman looked very pissed at the endeavor too!

"Haha! What are you without that gun of course."

The mink announced proudly, that's when he got slammed in the face by Angelica. Pacha groaned as the strike connected to his face... some blood dripped from his snout as he was sent stepping back. His face was throbbing slightly. Oh, so she wanted a slugfest now? Well, that could be arranged, unlucky for her she was fighting a cat. One with claws! As Pacha regained his composure he pushed out his retractable claws and got ready for a smackdown.

"Take this!"

He yelled out as he went for a claw swipe sword the woman.

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

Deman's attack, as quick as it might have been, was stopped in the nick of time by his opponent. The dagger smacked the shield, but rather surprisingly, it didn't bounce back as much as it should have. What could that mean? Was his enemy's prowess with that shield really so high?
Deman had nearly no time to come up with an explanation, since the adversary was already trying to retaliate. He hadn't seen it before, but in the middle of his enemy's shield... There was no doubt.

It was simple physics, really. Energy cannot be created, nor destroyed. Even in the case of the most powerful and flamboyant techniques, the power of Devil Fruits, or the mystical power of one's will, producing an effect on the world requires energy. This energy has to be taken from somewhere else - it's a basic law that nobody, can defy - perhaps, not even a God.
And nor Deman nor his opponent were Gods. Deman understood in a flash where the energy from his attack had gone: it was in the enemy's shield, and he was about to taste it back.

The fingers around his scabbard began to twitch, rythmically and chaotically at once. If we was going to release the energy of his attack onto him, perhaps adding his own, maybe he wasn't also able to absorb it at the same time. It may have been a bit of a stretch on his part, but some basic dynamics must still have been at play - there's no valve that goes both ways. "[Byakko no]..." he recited, gathering his fighting spirit. He was about to fight fire with fire.
The vibrations propagated through the wood of the scabbard, amplifying their strength, harmonizing. It was the very first time he tried to use this technique on anything other than a metal medium - if luck were to turn a blind eye, the last remnant of his weapon could be destroyed.

"...[Gozen Kiba]!"

Deman projected the armed hand in front; the energy was released, storming into the air; a true roar, a shockwave.

Both attacks went off at once.
The impact of one technique reverbeating against the other rebounded, sweeping Deman back as if he instead had been hit; it sent the swordsman flying back several meters, his flight only coming to a stop after a tree stood in his way.
The swordsman groaned, lamenting the newly acquired sharp pain in his back. "I..." he whispered to himself, "... may have miscalculated... the power output..."

"Do you have any idea..."

The large cat had taken her punch straight in the face, retreating for a few steps before striking back. This time, the Mink had decided to rely on more natural methods of fighting; Angelica took the decision to put herself in what was fundamentally the most disadvantageous position for herself.
She never learned to not let first impressions dictate her actions, and whenever she decided it was time to do something, she needed to do it. Even if it included going up close and personal against a warrior that was much better fitted for close quarters combat than her. And of course, she wasn't having it even in this case.

"... how much time I spent..."

Her eyes shot up towards the feline arm ready to swing at her, and her first instinct was to put both arms forward; she intercepted the attack, letting the clawed hand approach her face but never touch it. The grip of her hands on the Mink's wrist tightened; her muscles tensed up, recruiting the full strength of her body; using the waist as a handle she pulled herself into her enemy's body, bashing with her shoulder towards their sternum and stomach.

"... calibrating?!"

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // 白虎の轟然牙 - Byakko no Gozen Kiba
Though twitching of his muscles, Deman generates a series of pressure waves that propagate into the weapon or object he's holding. Then, he brings the weapon forward in a punching motion; the stored energy is released and amplified by the weapon, and is projected outwards in the form of a shockwave that blasts a large area in front of him.
Lighter objects and creatures that aren't tied to the ground can be pushed backwards from the blast's power.
Translation: "Roaring Fang of the White Tiger".

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Angelica

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.