Post by Smiley on Jul 2, 2020 16:27:20 GMT -5
Sunny, bright. A wonderful day in the ever popular island of Strawberry Hill. The ever prosperous land, famous for its healthcare and the large orphanage, a place where people can actually have the hope for a good and healthy life, would never expect a pirate to appear at their shores.
Of course, it would expect that, though.. it's in the West Blue. The pirates that mean real business, the real and gratuitous cruelty generally lie in the Grand Line.
The ones in the blues are usually blowhards, those full of hot air, the silly idiots and wannabes.
In a way, what they'd find today..
Was what they expected.
Cruelty..
Coming from the Grand Line.
"One hundred pounds of food. Twenty thousand beri. Bring it to me or suffer harsh consequences."
A man, huge amongst tall. Dwarfing even the tallest of normal human men, the imposing, stoic and tired-looking Alabastan mercenary, with his volumous, wooly white hair in dreadlocks that reached all the way down to his shoulders. Dressed in simple, yet foreign-styled leather clothing, that did little to hide the large biceps or pectorals, he was definitely the type to incur fear in whoever he talked to.
Including the local militia officer he was talking to.
Yet, he still had the gall to say no. A misguided belief, surely, that the militia were more than strong enough to take one single unarmed man and his insane demands, that they were nothing more than some loon, yet another blowhard that wouldn't go through with his threats. Someone.. who didn't follow up on their word.
Hopes and assumptions wronged and lost, as the enraged giant quickly reached out to his first victim of the day, the agonized screaming and quick, desperate begging for his own life quickly silenced in a gut wrenching, loud snap. The body lied on the ground and, above him, the calmed man, with hands painted in dripping red, above a pool created by another.
"This was my one and only warning." The huge man spoke while stepping ahead, one of his heavy feet crushing the ribcage of the newly-made corpse as he walked over him, regarding him with as much thought as the pavement, the very ground he stood on - much to the horror of bystanders who had crossed that traumatizing visage.
"I will have my demands met." As he finished his last words, a white substance would begin growing on top of his right cheek. A white bone-like mass, meshing itself like a sort of crystal, just before it took proper shape, violently and rapidly enveloping the man's entire body.
It tightened, it took its proper shape. Wrapping around him like a well suited armor, the Bone Knight was, in time, equipped in a full suit of armor, one that, from its chest, raised his own weapon: an X-Shaped mace with a handle just big enough to be held by two hands, an imposing thing, made for crushing.
"..Your blood will fill the cracks in the pavement!" The giant finally snapped, shouting with anger almost dripping out of his voice, his body going into a full-on mad dash to the nearest person he could find, the large mace coming down with not a shred of mercy, fully caving in the victim's skull.
The buildings suffered a fate much similar to the people, smashed into and torn down with hands and mace. The moment he found a general store that sold oil and a simple lighter, he found it in his heart enough cruelty to set fire to them, not being above using the clothing of the fallen as ignition material.
Screams. Pleas of help.
Smoke.
Flames.
In his unblocked rampage, where the weapons of the local militia proved to be, at best, innefective and the nearest marine force capable of stopping him not close enough, his path of destruction indicated that he was heading to, without a doubt, both the Orphanage AND the hospital.
Could a miracle truly come and stop him?
Of course, it would expect that, though.. it's in the West Blue. The pirates that mean real business, the real and gratuitous cruelty generally lie in the Grand Line.
The ones in the blues are usually blowhards, those full of hot air, the silly idiots and wannabes.
In a way, what they'd find today..
Was what they expected.
Cruelty..
Coming from the Grand Line.
"One hundred pounds of food. Twenty thousand beri. Bring it to me or suffer harsh consequences."
A man, huge amongst tall. Dwarfing even the tallest of normal human men, the imposing, stoic and tired-looking Alabastan mercenary, with his volumous, wooly white hair in dreadlocks that reached all the way down to his shoulders. Dressed in simple, yet foreign-styled leather clothing, that did little to hide the large biceps or pectorals, he was definitely the type to incur fear in whoever he talked to.
Including the local militia officer he was talking to.
Yet, he still had the gall to say no. A misguided belief, surely, that the militia were more than strong enough to take one single unarmed man and his insane demands, that they were nothing more than some loon, yet another blowhard that wouldn't go through with his threats. Someone.. who didn't follow up on their word.
Hopes and assumptions wronged and lost, as the enraged giant quickly reached out to his first victim of the day, the agonized screaming and quick, desperate begging for his own life quickly silenced in a gut wrenching, loud snap. The body lied on the ground and, above him, the calmed man, with hands painted in dripping red, above a pool created by another.
"This was my one and only warning." The huge man spoke while stepping ahead, one of his heavy feet crushing the ribcage of the newly-made corpse as he walked over him, regarding him with as much thought as the pavement, the very ground he stood on - much to the horror of bystanders who had crossed that traumatizing visage.
"I will have my demands met." As he finished his last words, a white substance would begin growing on top of his right cheek. A white bone-like mass, meshing itself like a sort of crystal, just before it took proper shape, violently and rapidly enveloping the man's entire body.
It tightened, it took its proper shape. Wrapping around him like a well suited armor, the Bone Knight was, in time, equipped in a full suit of armor, one that, from its chest, raised his own weapon: an X-Shaped mace with a handle just big enough to be held by two hands, an imposing thing, made for crushing.
"..Your blood will fill the cracks in the pavement!" The giant finally snapped, shouting with anger almost dripping out of his voice, his body going into a full-on mad dash to the nearest person he could find, the large mace coming down with not a shred of mercy, fully caving in the victim's skull.
The buildings suffered a fate much similar to the people, smashed into and torn down with hands and mace. The moment he found a general store that sold oil and a simple lighter, he found it in his heart enough cruelty to set fire to them, not being above using the clothing of the fallen as ignition material.
Screams. Pleas of help.
Smoke.
Flames.
In his unblocked rampage, where the weapons of the local militia proved to be, at best, innefective and the nearest marine force capable of stopping him not close enough, his path of destruction indicated that he was heading to, without a doubt, both the Orphanage AND the hospital.
Could a miracle truly come and stop him?