Post by The Love Ballad on Aug 15, 2020 8:15:28 GMT -5
With an unholy bellow, Ragusa ordered his men and women forward, "Push onward, show these mites the power of the Marine Corps!"
The pirates were being pushed back, where once they had fallen into defensive positions, their line had well and truly been broken. Criminals in varying sizes, dressed in mixes of leather and bovine-inspired accessories, were putting up a surprisingly valiant effort at a skirmishing retreat, but the sheer force of the marine line had shattered any semblance of organisation to the wind. Soldiers in white uniforms rushed past Ragusa's position, where he stood over the bloodied and broken forms of the two pirates he had so recently torn apart. Adrenaline coursed through everyone of his veins, confusing his animalistic senses.
Then, those bestial urges were cut right through, for Ragusa felt pain, for what felt like the first time in a while. A bullet had lodged itself in his quad, one of the pirates had managed to shoot quicker than he could slash after all. The thick fur and bulk of his hybrid form had seen fit to halt its trajectory to the point that it hadn't reached the bone, yet it still remained firmly caught in his muscle. Whereas earlier he'd been able to ignore his pain receptors, this particular wound sung out as if molten led had been poured into the flesh. The result was the goliath of a marine found himself temporarily standing still, desperately attempting to push the sensation to the back of his overacting mind.
All around him, the sounds of battle raged ever on. The Lieutenant had pulled in Argyle, the short and stout man had been promptly relieved of one of his explosive shells, and the much taller woman had used her hammer to launch it at what Ragusa could only assume to be a messenger. The result was simple, the runner was dead, and their position was still somewhat tenable. Of course, that was Ragusa's thinking until the horn sounded.
Ragusa's enlarged ears picked up on the sound almost immediately, and not even his adrenaline-drunk state could stop him from processing what it meant. A warhorn meant that there was a warning inbound, there'd be no need to sound it this far after the shelling of the coast, the only conclusion was simple enough to meet. The removal of the messenger had been irrelevant, the sound they'd made in their blitz had alerted Longhorn all the same.
"Horn!" He roared, "Prepare for counter!" Yet it was as if his voice was lost to the orchestra of death surrounding them.
Marines rushed ever onward into battle, bullets flying and sabres rattling. Out of the corner of his eye, as he surveyed the battlefield, Ragusa became vaguely aware of Wakana's lifeless form. She'd taken a pirate's sword to the heart, the steel still embedded. He fought back emotion at the sight, she'd been a good marine, but there was a job to do.
Fortunately, his pause to check his injury allowed him time to fall behind the front-line ever-so-slightly. His eyes finally stopped their scanning one he found his target, the silver-haired leader of their assault, and to her side was the small man in charge of explosives. With speed far beyond that of a normal human, he jogged over, the unholy pain seeping from his bleeding leg and arm both locked behind the steel cage of his brain.
"Ma'am," He announced as he came upon the captain, voice measured but loud enough to be heard over the yells of marines and pirates, "they've sounded a warning horn. They know we're here, we can expect a counter attack at any moment. What are your orders?"
The petty officer was visibly wounded, blood was seeping into his once pristine white uniform. More strikingly, he had taken on the form of a creature halfway between man and long extinct creature. Where once the tall man had barely stood shorter than his commanding officer, he now well and truly had the advantage of height.
Whatever her reaction, Argyle's was clear, somewhere between confusion, fear, and delight. His eyes twinkling as if they'd seen a new toy at the same time that they expanded with fear previously unbeknownst to him. For the first time, Petty Officer Dubrovnik realised that Wallais may not have disclosed that he was a devil fruit user.
Where in the dark blue hells was Wallais anyway?
The thought didn't last long, for almost as soon as it had processed in his head, the second wave of pirates was upon them from the town centre. The petty officer didn't care to look to see if Longhorn, or any of his lieutenants were among them, but he knew that the numbers were now coming dangerously close to being even. The first phase of the fight may have been drawing to a close, but the battle was far from over.
The pirates were being pushed back, where once they had fallen into defensive positions, their line had well and truly been broken. Criminals in varying sizes, dressed in mixes of leather and bovine-inspired accessories, were putting up a surprisingly valiant effort at a skirmishing retreat, but the sheer force of the marine line had shattered any semblance of organisation to the wind. Soldiers in white uniforms rushed past Ragusa's position, where he stood over the bloodied and broken forms of the two pirates he had so recently torn apart. Adrenaline coursed through everyone of his veins, confusing his animalistic senses.
Then, those bestial urges were cut right through, for Ragusa felt pain, for what felt like the first time in a while. A bullet had lodged itself in his quad, one of the pirates had managed to shoot quicker than he could slash after all. The thick fur and bulk of his hybrid form had seen fit to halt its trajectory to the point that it hadn't reached the bone, yet it still remained firmly caught in his muscle. Whereas earlier he'd been able to ignore his pain receptors, this particular wound sung out as if molten led had been poured into the flesh. The result was the goliath of a marine found himself temporarily standing still, desperately attempting to push the sensation to the back of his overacting mind.
All around him, the sounds of battle raged ever on. The Lieutenant had pulled in Argyle, the short and stout man had been promptly relieved of one of his explosive shells, and the much taller woman had used her hammer to launch it at what Ragusa could only assume to be a messenger. The result was simple, the runner was dead, and their position was still somewhat tenable. Of course, that was Ragusa's thinking until the horn sounded.
Ragusa's enlarged ears picked up on the sound almost immediately, and not even his adrenaline-drunk state could stop him from processing what it meant. A warhorn meant that there was a warning inbound, there'd be no need to sound it this far after the shelling of the coast, the only conclusion was simple enough to meet. The removal of the messenger had been irrelevant, the sound they'd made in their blitz had alerted Longhorn all the same.
"Horn!" He roared, "Prepare for counter!" Yet it was as if his voice was lost to the orchestra of death surrounding them.
Marines rushed ever onward into battle, bullets flying and sabres rattling. Out of the corner of his eye, as he surveyed the battlefield, Ragusa became vaguely aware of Wakana's lifeless form. She'd taken a pirate's sword to the heart, the steel still embedded. He fought back emotion at the sight, she'd been a good marine, but there was a job to do.
Fortunately, his pause to check his injury allowed him time to fall behind the front-line ever-so-slightly. His eyes finally stopped their scanning one he found his target, the silver-haired leader of their assault, and to her side was the small man in charge of explosives. With speed far beyond that of a normal human, he jogged over, the unholy pain seeping from his bleeding leg and arm both locked behind the steel cage of his brain.
"Ma'am," He announced as he came upon the captain, voice measured but loud enough to be heard over the yells of marines and pirates, "they've sounded a warning horn. They know we're here, we can expect a counter attack at any moment. What are your orders?"
The petty officer was visibly wounded, blood was seeping into his once pristine white uniform. More strikingly, he had taken on the form of a creature halfway between man and long extinct creature. Where once the tall man had barely stood shorter than his commanding officer, he now well and truly had the advantage of height.
Whatever her reaction, Argyle's was clear, somewhere between confusion, fear, and delight. His eyes twinkling as if they'd seen a new toy at the same time that they expanded with fear previously unbeknownst to him. For the first time, Petty Officer Dubrovnik realised that Wallais may not have disclosed that he was a devil fruit user.
Where in the dark blue hells was Wallais anyway?
The thought didn't last long, for almost as soon as it had processed in his head, the second wave of pirates was upon them from the town centre. The petty officer didn't care to look to see if Longhorn, or any of his lieutenants were among them, but he knew that the numbers were now coming dangerously close to being even. The first phase of the fight may have been drawing to a close, but the battle was far from over.