Jungle Fever! The Blue Dragon's Redemption!

[Fennec]

-- CHAPTER III // Jungle Fever

*VYOOOM*

A vibration reverberated throughout the jungle shaking the trees in the nearby vicinity. The impact of Deman's burst was enough to cause the large Ocelotl to slide back wedging his bare feet in the rocky jungle earth. The warrior grit his teeth as he felt the shock course through his body, blood spilled in between his lips. This white tiger guy was no joke, perhaps he had to step it up. Even so, this was a winning battle for him, Deman crashing into a jungle tree was proof of it. Years of training in Skypiea had hardened him greatly... and years of exile after a lightning god took over had hardened him even more. The Grand Line had molded him, pounded him, like one would a coin. Increasing his value as a proud warrior.

"I was going to be nicer you know? But you're tasting my patience."

Ocelotl yelled, his eyes had gotten mildly bloodshot. Something was beginning to muster within him, his once meek demeanor being replaced by one full of blood lust.

"I'm going to kill you bastard!"

Grabbing a hold of his macuahuitl tightly, knuckles going white from his grip.

"Now stand still so I can pin ya down! SUN GOD'S SACRIFICE!"

The man yelled out as he threw his club straight at Deman, the spinning macuahuitl catching flame as it went over at Deman full speed. The very friction of its speed and spinning causing the flames to look like a sun was being hurdled at the White Tiger. A death sentence! A prize! A bounty! For the blood god!

"Harharharhar! White Tiger? More like White Kitten!"

---

Pacha's strike got caught by Angelic, the Mink flinched. This was new, she had caught his arm! Her grip was strong, she squeezed his hand tightly... veins and tendons popping from her bronze-colored arm. She could catch his hand but could she catch up with his speed? As the woman went in for an attack with her shoulder Pacha used his strength and the momentum built to whiplash her swinging his gripped arm to push her off.

"Unhand me!"

The mink exclaimed as he attempted to push the woman off.

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- COLOUR // Pacha | Mustard #FEDC56

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

The swordsman felt the familiar metallic taste of blood in his mouth. By that point, it was more of a psychological association with battle adrenaline than actual blood.
From that exchange, Deman had learned two facts: the enemy's defenses were much harder to push through than anticipated, and if left unchecked, it could've spelled defeat for him and Shijin as a whole.

Deman Reeves was a man of reason. Without the proper time to formulate a plan, and right after having suffered a devastating loss, hardly anyone would be ready to sustain an all out battle with a similarly organised force. He could have avoided the battle, at the cost of giving his back to the people that helped him. He couldn't do it.
But he also didn't have the strength to solve the situation he willingly chose to be in. He was stripped of his sleep, of his sword, of his full potential.

If only he could have it all back.

Right as the adversary readied up his attack, Deman's attention was caught by a flickering flash coming from amidst the leaves. His brows furrowed, as he tried to factor this piece of information into his next steps; that little flicker told him something he needed to know at that exact moment: that while his personal power was stifled, he could still rely on others.
He dodged the flaming weapon hurled at him, rolling out of the way well before the thing could reach him. "I'm not going down without a fight..." he said, crawling out of the way. "No," he corrected, "we're not going down without a fight."
He pointed index and middle finger towards the enemy fighter, and yelled:

"Phoebe!"

The hidden sniper, sharpshooter unseen, took her shot. The bullet pierced through the leaves, aimed with precision at Ocelotl's back.

Angelica tried to swing in for the hit, but her attack was completely avoided by her adversary; with a swift motion, he stepped out of the way, and then he used Angelica's own momentum against her. The girl took a few steps forwards before losing balance, falling knees and elbows in the mud.
The girl sighed. That was going to be a difficult fight, one that she wasn't paid enough to participate in. The initial fury over her lost weapon finally subsiding, she realised it was probably best to start thinking of a way out just in case her enemy proved too hard a foe.
Angelica pushed on one knee to lift herself up, and stand once more. In her hands no more the Sarukh Able, as it was left on the ground where she stood; instead, she was armed with a rather thick branch. In an attempt to distract the Jaguar Mink, she pushed the branch onto him; right after, she took one step forward, lifted her right leg, and stomped right in the direction of Pacha's knee.
She was aiming to incapacitate the opponent, even if for a small time.

-- 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 smirked, so this Deman fellow had more spark in him than expected. It was surprising.. up until now the denizens of the blue sea had proven subpar warriors when compared to those of the sky. Being no better than cannon fodder for the armies of his master. Pathetic, the lot of them. But this fellow, the one with the white hair... he must have the blood of the sky folk. Even if he was getting his ass beat, he had certainly lasted much longer than any Blue Sea man. Especially here in the East Blue, the most pathetic of places.

"Aw come on? Didn't like the fireworks, gramps?"

He smiled pacing toward Deman who had just rolled out of the way of his attack. However, the hairs in the back of his neck began to stand as he sensed something. An intent, his mantra! It was kicking in, it wasn't as trained as his masters no but just trained enough to sense that something or someone was preparing an attack from behind. With a rough dodge, he quickly shifted to his side just as Deman called out for Phoebe.

*bang*

The bullet flew through the air scraping his shoulder, leaving a burning sensation... Ocetlotl looked at his now bloodied shoulder that had been slightly cleaved into by the bullet scraping against it. He grits his teeth.

"I'll ignore that for now... but trust me when I say I'll come for you next! Ambush sniper!"

Ocelotl said between grit teeth, his neck jerked turning back to Deman. Fury now in his eyes, shield still in hand... he went in with one bare fists clenched tightly. Craving blood... He was done with games, this had been prolonged enough. This man from the blue sea would learn the true power of sky warfare! The true power of a jaguar warrior! Making his beline straight at Deman, Ocelotl smashed his shield right onto the White Tiger using all his power in that strike. 

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- COLOUR // Pacha | Mustard #FEDC56

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

Deman was a man of reason. He did not like to force a situation unless it was specifically within his plans. And plans he did not have, when he decided he would defend Pacha and his group with his limited resources.
But Deman was a man of reason. He couldn't let a situation happen unless he had some degree of tactics to take advantage of. The strongest among his group were trained to use spears, and those who couldn't fight on the fore, were trained in other roles; one such asset was Phoebe, one that he was counting on using at the earliest convenience. If Phoebe's shot connected, his enemy would've dropped his defense; in that brief window of opportunity, Deman would've cashed in the winning strike.

Lady luck didn't want to let him have it.

The adversary dodged the bullet, proving their senses far superior to what Deman could ever have predicted a man to possess. And when he heard the bullet strike the ground and disperse into the dirt, Deman knew that his only chance to emerge victorious had just vanished.
If only he had a few more options, like access to his sword; if only the people who died by the storm were still there. If only he could be a better strategist.

He bet with too little to gain and too much to lose, and lost.

As he watched the heavy shield descend on him, the swordsman swore to himself. "I can never let this happen again," he promised; the hand gripping the sword's scabbard instinctively rose to stand between the shield and Deman's head.
The pressure quickly became unbearable. "I'll never lose a bet... Ever again!"
And having declared that with all his passion, he felt the crushing weight of his enemy and lost consciousness.

-- 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

"Heh, pathetic."

The larger man said as he saw Deman falter and fall to the ground under the power of his shield. Deman had spoken words, deep ones filled with power and determination. But to simple-minded brute Ocelotl, that had very little meaning. All he knew were results and the result of Deman's defeat was he could get the skull at once. Marching to the tent where the professor had been cowering in he opened it up. Towering over the feeble old man he glared down at him.

"Give me the skull and I'll spare your life, old man."

The professor looked up at the behemoth cowering, holding tightly to the skull with a map etched to its back... he immediately tossed the piece into the fire pit! Causing a burst of flames to come forth. Ocelotl tightened his grip around his club and lifted it high! He was ready to kill this old man! What would he do now!?

"Wait!! Wait, please! I memorized the map!"

Just inches away from the Professor's face was the club. Ocelotl having stopped midway. He tilted his head and smirked, that would do.

"Then I guess I'll take you!"

Without a second thought, the Shandian snagged the old man with his fist and slung him over his shoulder. Much to the old man's protest, as he kicked and flailed.

"Offhand me brute!!"

Ocelotl however, was unphased... he moved along on his merry way toward his boss. Exoloco would surely be pleased.

~~~

Angelica was a tough opponent, she wasn't as strong as the Mink. But she more than made up for it in her craftiness and speed. Shoving the branch forward it smashed onto Pacha's face, something that disoriented the Mink who spat out leaves.

"Blegh!"

What he didn't expect next was a kick to his knees which sent him off balance causing him to fall down. A disadvantageous spot, that was for certain... but now that he was on all fours he used his jaguar's strength to leap at Angelica! Like the beast he was, his intent was to pounce on her. If he could subdue her with a tackle and pin her down then he was confident in the fact he'd won the battle.

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- COLOUR // Pacha | Mustard #FEDC56

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

The battle had been lost on Deman's front. The enemy, victorious and bold, turned his attention to the prize and took it away.

Angelica, on the other side, was convinced she'd get away easily from the jaguar - but she was quickly proven wrong. The jaguar used the full strength of his limbs to pounce at her, right as she was giving her back to him.
She felt an inescapable weight push her down into the ground; Angelica felt the cold mud on her face once again as the Mink pinned her in place, just a few centimeters away from where she left the weapon. She groaned all of her distress out: "Let me go, dammit!" she growled, trough her teeth, squirming to try and get away from the crushing weight of an adult Mink.

At that moment, Pacha would hear the familiar voice of a certain huntress. "You got one of 'em? Hand 'er over, I'll tie her up like a colt!" Sally had been fighting back the aggressors since it began, but only after Ocelotl got away did she get a moment to fall back and reunite with her comrades. The battlefield was quieting down, as more and more marauders disappeared into the night after the prize had been claimed.
Hands tied by a rope behind her back, Angelica found herself unable to retaliate. She squirmed still, but with much less vigor than before. "I guess we'd wanna ask this one a few questions later... How's you? How's the others?"

-- 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

Like fishmen, Minks took on the traits of their animals at times. A tiger was tough, a fox was swift, and a gorilla was strong. Jaguar's by nature were strong. Apex predators in their rainforest environment. Creatures who would overpower prey by pouncing at them with utmost precision and strength. That was all to say, Angelica was not going anywhere anytime soon. Pacha's pounce was a success and with that her fragile human frame would not be able to escape his grasp.

"No way I'm letting you. You're coming with us."

Pacha remarked, this lady had some issues if she thought they'd let her go after her party of marauders just waltzed in ans pillaged their camp. That's when his ears perked up, his eyes raising to meet those of Sally. He let out a smile, he was happy to see her... he honestly hoped the Professor was doing well.

"Sally! Uh! Yes, let's tie this woman up. We should check on the Professor and the others.'

He looked around, the flames and embers that once pained the battlefield were dying down. As was the battle itself, the clashing of blades and gunshots were settling... bodies now littered the floor. It was ugly. Yet peaceful. It was odd, no hard to describe. Pacha's ears drooped.

"Yeah, we'll ask her questions later..."

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- COLOUR // Pacha | Mustard #FEDC56

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

Phoebe dropped from her hidden spot amidst the leaves, and hurried towards Deman's still body. "Demmie... Demmie!!" she called. Silence was her answer, a silence that was quickly filling the air after the brief, intense moment of battle. She didn't know what to do; she was so used to having a million thoughts through her head all the time, an empty head was alien and an empty head was scary to her. Out of instinct, she decided to pick up Deman from an arm, and carry him across the battlefield.

"Hah" scoffed Sally, "this one ain't going anywhere." The knots were tight and nearly impossible to break from that position, preventing Angelica from moving an inch. The girl squirmed in protest, but at that point, she was already mentally preparing for an interrogation.
But come to think of it, she wasn't being paid enough to keep any secret.

The fishwoman dragged herself over to Pacha and Sally. "Help!" she howled, tears in her eyes. "Help... He was on the floor like this. Is he sleeping? Why is he sleeping right now?" Phoebe slowly laid the swordsman's body on the grass beside her. She sniffled, and added: "He really was tired...".
Something in her voice felt forced - it was as if she didn't quite believe her own words. She was aware of everything that had just happened, but something in her head refused to accept the reality for what it was. They had suffered a defeat, Deman was hurt, and those things are bound to happen.
It is perhaps too hard sometimes to push the veil of what one wants to see.

-- 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

Pacha nodded, he stood up and looked down at Angelica who was now tied up. Sally had done some good work with that specialized hunting gun of hers. A real outdoorsman (woman?) she was and a wonderful asset to this mission. Speaking of he still had his concerns in regards to the professor... he was a frail old man not fit for battles.

But then again, he was crafty and sagely! Perhaps he'd figured out something to survive. Taking in a deep breath Pacha told himself he'd trust the Professor on this one and instead focus on what was on hand. That's when Phoebe showed up, the carpet shark fishwoman was distraught as she held onto her partner. Deman, the supposed toymaker.

"W-what happened?"

The mink asked, tilting his head and furrowing his brow in concern. Deman didn't seem in good shape... he rushed over to the man kneeling next to him. Pressing his paw on his kneck he checked for vitals. His heart was beating, he was alive. Perhaps what made this situation even heavier were Phoebe's words. There was just such a child-like innocence to them. Pacha frowned turning to look at the white tiger's green companion.

"He'll be fine, I'm no... no doctor but he's breathing."

Pacha bit his lip.

"Phoebe, go northwest of camp. There should be a white tent there with a red cross. Go check if the medic is alive and well... if he is then bring them here."

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- COLOUR // Pacha | Mustard #FEDC56

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 5 // JUNGLE FEVER

Sally watched Deman's motionless body on the ground; at Pacha's words, she replied simply: "There's gonna be a lotta wounded people. Y'all are lucky we got supplies from the wreckage." She recalled the events of the day, when Deman organised the retrieval of salvage with the rest of Shijin; she shook her head as she remembered Deman's exact words, and scoffed. "Hah. He put priority on food, water and medical supplies. Those were to be salvaged first. He's prepared, the toymaker."
Phoebe nodded, and picked up Deman once more. She hopped towards the medic's tent; the glow of a lantern was already lighting it up from the inside.
"Any idea who those were?" Sally asked Pacha. "Never seen something like that. Pillars shootin' outta the ground 'n all." She nudged the captive Angelica with her foot. "She can tell us more. But it'll have to wait, we got so many people to help. We got tomorrow to figure out how to help the Professor some. Sound good?"

-- 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

Pacha nodded.

"I'm not a doctor, but I'll do my best to try and help. I hope Phoebe finds the medic."

He said, there was something off to his voice now. He seemed distant, almost lost in thought. This all bugged him, he couldn't understand why he had recieved help. Why a man like Deman had stepped up. At the same time Pacha felt this was his fault. It always felt like it was. To him bad things came from stepping up, that's what he himself had done for his family and had gotten punished for it. Now Deman was getting punished for stepping up for a stranger. The Mink shook his head gently. Why did his situation simply keep spawning chaos and causing problems for others. He honestly couldn't understand.

"Yeah, he is quite prepared. I am starting to doubt he is nothing more than a toy maker."

Pacha replied, he looked over to Deman being taken away by Phoebe. Her smile had been long wiped for a while. There was an innocence and light to her that Pacha rarely saw in people. A light in the umbra of the world. A gentle warmth in the harsh cold. The fact good people still existed made things worth fighting for and yet. It went against everything he had been taught. Fighting was wrong. Standing up to oppression was wrong. It was best to flee. It was best to lower ones head and accept things as they were. Because that ensured safety.

"I have no idea, never seen them in my life. But yes, I suspect he was an ability user... you know ate a Devil Fruit?"

He turned to eye Angelica who was silent. That was true, they luckily now had a source of information. This war if they could even call it that. Was far from over.

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- COLOUR // Pacha | Mustard #FEDC56

[pepsi]

Sally scratched her head with a finger. "Devil Fruits? Don't really believe those stories. Though it was weird to see the ground shake up like that." Strapping her weapon onto her shoulder, she went to grab Angelica's tied up back with a free hand. The huntress transported her all the way to a nearby tree, where a few more bits of rope would secure her. "There ya go. Now the earlier we get people back on their feet, the earlier we can get the Professor."

Deman Reeves opened his eyes half an hour later. He recognised the place almost immediately: he was the one to supervise the pitching and personally appointed it as the "medical care" tent. He was still in a confused state, but he clearly remembered the last few seconds before his lights were knocked out - he figured out the rest. The pain was only secondary: it was his ego who suffered the most.
The tent was only large enough to fit four people. Deman looked around, counting himself plus three more, each on the makeshift beds made of fresh leaves.
The swordsman sat up, supporting his body with one arm; "Miss Nue..." he called, addressing the medic by name. "How many... How many people are in need of medical attention?"
The woman turned around to see him struggling to get up on his legs. Immediately she approached the man and offered support of her own: "Commander! Please lay down!" Deman turned the other way and coughed, getting a taste of the sharp pain coming from his ribs. Some of them could be cracked for all he knew. "How many... ?" Deman repeated.
"There's... five more people outside. They're all waiting, I'm doing what I can."
Deman took a sigh of relief. It wasn't a terrible situation, as long as he could keep it that way. "You always do great work, miss Nue." He said, turning back towards her with a relieved expression on his face. "Thank you. Let others in need into the tent now, I can walk out of here on my own two legs."
And having said that, he pushed himself off the ground.

As soon as he stepped out of the tent, he was approached by a familiar tiny girl with green hair. "Demmie, are you ok?" She asked, fiddling with her hair. "If you're here," Deman said, not before coughing some more, "then the battle is already over. I need a summary of how it went. Check with the Professor, with Pacha and Sally, and..."
"I can give y'all a summary" Sally chipped in, having overheard Deman's words. The swordsman greeted her with a nod, to minimize the amount of movements. "They took the Professor with them, the bastards. But Pacha got us a hostage of our own." "A hostage?" Deman asked, frowning. "Yeah, lemme show ya."

Sally brought a still slightly limping, but nevertheless recovering Deman to the tree-bound Angelica. "We got one of 'em right here" Sally said, nodding in the direction of the girl. "We can ask 'er all sorts of things." Deman's expression hardened at the sight of a person whose hands were tied behind their back; it made him think of darker days when he was a slave.
Deman brushed off the memories, reminding himself that the situation was only temporary, but he felt like he needed to clarify. "I don't like to treat one's freedom as a pawn, Sally. It isn't something to dangle in front of one's eyes to obtain what you need."

-- 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

The Mink raised a brow of indignation at the country woman. Didn't believe in Devil Fruits eh? It seemed like the natives of the blues hardly did. They couldn't be blamed, however. It was only natural of course. Devil Fruits were more common in the Grand Line because more powerful people met there and as they met they died.

"Yet you speak to an upright talking Jaguar and yet you witnessed pillars sprouting from the ground."

Pacha shrugged.

"At some point you have to let go of your suspicion of disbelief. The world is a lot bigger than just this little pond, the East Blue."

He remarked, with that he followed the group to the tent and waited. Silently watching as Deman was being taken care of. Thinking, he wondered... what pushed the silver-haired man to fight. Who was this man? The way he fought. The way he spoke. He had to be more than a simple toy maker. His eyes were just closing as Deman woke up from his stupor.

"Hmm..."

Pacha hummed as he listened to the exchange, his ears flickering and his tail swaying from side to side like an agitated house cat. He couldn't keep it all in. He had to ask. He needed to know why.

"Deman, before you continue. I have questions. Why did you stand up for us? What are you up to here? And most importantly. Who really are you."

He stared at Deman with his green feline eyes intently.

"Because, sir. There is no way you're just a toy maker."

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- COLOUR // Pacha | Mustard #FEDC56

[pepsi]

The white haired swordsman was taken aback by Pacha suddenly raising questions as he did. As much as he didn't like the situation with the hostage, and as much as he wanted to be the one watching over the poor girl tied to a tree, the Jaguar had a point. He claimed he was a toymaker, and yet every one of his actions didn't speak for it.

In all fairness, he couldn't have predicted that night. If nothing had happened, if they managed to just set up camp for a few days until things could settle down with the storm and they could find another means of transportation, then to Pacha it wouldn't have mattered whether he was a toymaker, a smithy, or a fire dancer. But for all the little action he took, starting from the fierce defense - even though it crumbled - down to the methodical organisation of an entire group of people into what was essentially the ghost of a military camp.

Deman Reeves huffed. The Jaguar was looking for answers, and it was about time he got some. "Phoebe..." He called, turning towards the fishwoman. "Watch over that girl for me, please." Phoebe nodded, and hopped cheerily towards the tree-bound Angelica. Deman turned back around to look at the Jaguar: "Pacha," he called, "follow me. I'll give you some answers, but I need a clear head. The sounds of the sea shall soothe my mind."

Phoebe hopped in front of Angelica, and kneeled down to match her height. As Pacha and Deman turned away from them, they could faintly hear Phoebe's extraordinary icebreaker.

"So... Do you like frogs?..."

Deman groaned as he heavily sat down on the sand. His ribs were a mess, but he wasn't going to get them treated until everybody else had a chance to get their medical attention. He still felt guilty for what happened, and the determination of avoiding stupid gambles was still flowing strong in his veins. "Sorry to say, Pacha, but you're wrong. I am a toymaker." Deman smirked, and shook his head. "I've learned much about the art in the past, and modestly I'm quite good at making complicated little machines. They look like they are alive, and they move on their own."

A few seconds of silence later, Deman continued. "Pacha, you're right" he said, firmly lodging the scabbard of his lost sword in the sand. "You're right, I'm not just a toymaker. Toys are a metaphor for the life I've chosen."

He snorted lightly, noticing just how much of an enigma his words really were. The gambling settled so deep into his heart, the words themselves always hid a double meaning. "In my home land, you are either born a slave or you are made into one." Through the rips in his clothing, a sign of the battle he only just fought minutes prior, Pacha could clearly see Deman's scarred skin. "You're born and you are beaten into submission. You are born a plaything for the strong and mighty." Letting out another pained groan he lounged on the sand a bit more. "A toy, if you would."

"But the conditions in which you are born do not define you" he continued, looking up at the sky. "So one day, with my brothers and sisters we dethroned our master, and claimed the land for those who worked it."
The former slave sighed. "In the grand scheme of things, they would call me a Revolutionary, Pacha. I accept that denomination." His eyes filled up with determination, an expression that could pierce the very heavens. "Those people who just fought by our side... I set them free from the slave trade."

"I firmly believe that toys have the opportunity to be free from their masters. I firmly believe that's what I do. The toys I make... They move on their own."

-- NAME // Deman Reeves

-- CLASS // D

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Phoebe Von Kessler

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Fennec]

Pacha

-- CHAPTER III // Jungle Fever

The mink gave a nod and shortly they were both at the cost. It was fascinating, the sea... it was so tranquil to be near it even at night. The full cast silver crescent moon shining over the dark waters which rippled against the white sandy beach. Sea shells adorned the tropical shore... it was peaceful. A massive contrast against the battle that had gone down just a few moments earlier. Turning to the sea with Deman next to him the jaguar stared into the horizon.

He didn't interject, even when Deman paused and said something he found peculiar. That he was a toy-maker and here he thought that there was a confession coming. But before he could jump to a conclusion his answers came in the way Deman went on to explain it. Slaves, play things, the concept of freedom. The world was truely and unjust place. But from it all Pacha noticed something. Deman fought back. It was okay to fight back. To fight for ones future. For the betterment of it all.

"A... Revolutionary..."

Seldom had Pacha heard that word being used and the time he did hear about it, it was in regards to the Revolutionary Army a group that directly opposed the Marines. But the context didn't add up at least not in a way that Deman explained it. It seemed by the way he said it that he was a Revolutionary of another kind. Whatever it was, he fought for change. Good change. The blonde let out a sigh of relief as he touched half his face with his paw and rubbed it.

"I see so you're a warrior after all. You make toy soldiers. Heh... but why did you stand up for us back there?"

He tilted his head and looked over, Pacha's green eyes narrowed as they met Deman's own. There was still a lot of doubt in his face.

"What reason did you have... I mean I'm... thankful but... why?"

-- NAME // Pacha

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- COLOUR // Pacha | Mustard #FEDC56