Fishes Don't Swim in Coffee [Kiwi/Bromo]

[BlacKitten]

Pluto - 1

Grove 10 – Lawless Area

Laughter traveled far beyond the walls of a shabby, yet lively pub. Mixed into the sound were gulping of beer, mugs slamming against wood, chattering, hiccups, and metal scraping against plates. Criminals and outlaws saw around round tables, most were men ranging between late twenties and sixties. Even as a boy, younger than the rest, entered inside, none paid him any attention.

A black-haired youth with violet eyes scanning his surroundings while standing idly at the center of the room, he was looking for someone. In his right hand was a stack of sandy-colored papers – bounty posters.

Just a few tables down to his left, a whitish-grey-haired man with circularly framed glasses sat with two other men. What placed him apart from the rest was his white-clean lab coat, pale greyish skin, and dull narrow eyes which appeared bored yet content. The unbuttoned coat revealed a dark brown shirt; he also wore a dark pair of dull pants and shoes. He was tall, lanky, and perhaps younger than a first glance. Had his hair been any other color, he might have appeared to be in his early thirties.

“Um…,” A black-haired boy stood awkwardly to his flank while holding up a pile of bounty posters with the front one revealing a portrait of the man before him. “Are you Hendrik Shipman?” said the youngster with a blank, naïve stare.

“Huh?” The man in question scrutinized the kid’s body, eyeing him up and down as if trying to size him up. He gathered that this one appeared no older than twenty years old, wore very clean and simple, dark clothing with a cloak draped around him. “So, what if I am? Are you playing bounty hunter or something?” At first gander, the boy speaking to him simply looked like a lost kid, looking for directions, but the fact that he was holding a bounty poster suggested a different motive.

The youth gazed towards the ceiling, pensively wrestling with that question. “Hmm…, I don’t really consider myself a bounty hunter, but I guess your bounty could be useful to go shopping later on the day.”

“Mm?” The man blinked before furrowing his brows before a smile cracked on his lips which soon turned into an unrestrained laughter. “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” His two companions at his table cracked up at the joke too, laughing along with him. Upon regaining his composure, his tone grew condescending, “What an amusing thing to say. I guess you are not a bounty hunter after all. You do realize how big my bounty is, right?”

Hendrik Shipman, Dr. Death

Bounty: 81, 000, 000 Beri
“Hmm…,” the boy hummed before flipping through other bounty posters to gauge at the other bounties for comparison. “Isn’t it a bit average? There are many posters with bounties around this level.”

Hendrik looked to his drink, stirring the ice around the golden-brown fluid with a faint layer of foam on top. “I suppose you’re right - there are many big named pirates converging onto this island. But all that means is that there are plenty of dangerous folks including myself, kid.”

“Hmm…,” the boy crossed his arms and tilted his head as if he were in a predicament. “You are certainly too strong for my little sister to handle. That much is for sure.”

“Sister?” Hendrik rose an eyebrow, puzzled by what the boy was talking about. He couldn’t tell if this was all a prank or not.

Later…

“Ugh…, my head…,” Hendrik grumbled as he grasped his temple with a hand before widening his eyes at the sensation of sunlight beaming onto his face and his body being dragged across pavement by the back of his collar. “Huh?” Throwing his head around, he saw a vaguely familiar boy nonchalantly scraping him along.

“Oh…, you woke up sooner than I expected,” the boy blinked in mild surprise.

“W-What… did you do to me?” the wanted criminal rubbed his throbbing head as if he had been recently rattled by an invisible force. The influence of alcohol slowed his mind and dulled the pain just a bit, but as he tried to recollect his memories, there was a strange void. He remembered wanting to take another sip of his drink back at the bar, and he remembered opening his eyes just now. Everything in between was a complete mystery. How did he fall unconscious?

“Nothing special. I just hit you in the head,” the boy explained in simple terms.

“What?” Hendrik recalled no such thing, but the throbbing pain in his skull told a different tale. Was this kid insinuating that he was knocked unconscious without even realizing it? Maybe he really did have too much to drink.

A young girl’s voice called out in alacrity, “Pluto!” Light footsteps raced towards them as a dark-haired girl with violet eyes came up and tackle hugged her older brother. She wore a sleeveless light-blue top, indigo shorts, and brown sandals. Following behind her was a taller and older girl who appeared to be just around the same age as Pluto. Long black hair, golden eyes, a pure white dress of silk with oriental designs of gold and red, she carried a long white spear held diagonally across her back with the spearhead pointed down. Her innocent gaze curiously aimed towards the lanky scientist-looking man. “Who’s that?” asked Ara.

“Eh,” the boy shifted his eyes towards the bounty posters in his hand, “I forget. What was his name again?”

A shadow loomed behind him, towering over. The glare of glasses hid the intent of the eyes. Lanky arms reached around with each hand holding a pristine Liston knife, ready to delicately slice through tender flesh. A blood lusting aura creeped out from Hendrik Shipman who slipped out of the boy’s grasp. He was renown as Dr. Death, an ex-doctor who lost his right to legally operate on any patient due to his sadistic crimes of dissecting his patients. Morbid curiosity drove him to madness; he knew every single weakness of the human anatomy. With his precise cuts, he could end a fight instantly. Unlike swordsmen who focused on powerful, swift slashes, he dedicated his refined skills into precision on where to cut. Arteries, ligaments, organs, his collective experience of inhumane experimentations of live human test subjects had granted him a forbidden wealth of knowledge.

Two tender, young girls. One naïve-looking boy with his back turned towards him. This looked like easy picking if he ever seen one.

[Lord Bromosalino]

Sabaody Archipelago. A misnomer really. This island was not truly an island in the traditional sense; even among the unique and sometimes absurd islands that called the Grand Line their home. Rather than a large lump of rock and dirt, Sabaody was, as its name implied, nothing more than several large archipelagos made up of unique mangrove forests that seemingly touched the sky. More than its unique geographical make up was its culture. Equal parts law, equal parts disorder. Both Marines and every ilk of criminal and degenerate made their home on the many tiny islands. Aspiring pirates and truly heinous convicts struggled (and often succeeded) in wrestling control away from World Government officials and even Celestial Dragons who staked their claim to the ever important landing base for the rest of the Grand Line.

This island of trees was the launching point for every person who wished to leave "paradise" behind and enter the final half of the Grand Line. As such, the Marines here were the proverbial gatekeepers of those who were allowed to continue and press forward. And following the infamous and debilitating effects of the great Whitebeard war, Sabaody had fallen further into shambles. Fleet Admiral Akainu had moved the Marine Headquarters deeper into the Grand Line and away from Sabaody Archipelago which resulted in more zones of the mangroves falling into complete disarray and lawlessness; something that the Marines tried, perhaps pointlessly, to keep an eye on.

It was this conflict on the island that seemed to be a perfect metaphor for the similarly conflicted Marine that was now arriving. Recently re-instated, reluctantly, Lieutenant Junior Grade Isaac Saifer had not planned on making his voyage to Sabaody Archipelago in such a fashion; in fact, he had not meant to make it as a Marine at all. Six months ago he had decided to take a much needed sabbatical away from the organization that he had been a part of his life since his earliest teenage years. In that time, the battle-wearied young man (who was no more than twenty-six years of age) had suffered physical, emotional, and spiritual trauma. Everything from the signature eye patch he wore over his right eye to his closed off and reserved personality was a result of more than a decade worth of fighting which was accompanied by, yes, victory and even more loss.

Those last six months however were nothing short of refreshing. He had traveled all across the Hawk Route in the Grand Line and seen a wide spectrum of human life and condition; poverty contrasted with extreme wealth and comfort, vulnerability with security, a sense of loneliness with a family that truly cared for each other. And amidst these differing cultures, the roaming Marine found himself smack in the middle of their lives and shaping the direction their islands and governments would take. And though the path he had taken on was not so different from the assignments he would have taken as a Marine, there was something about seeing these different lives through the lens of a civilian and not a government official, Isaac's own resolve and grit were strengthened and his goal of reforming the Marine organization was given new life.

But not yet. Along his journey, Isaac Saifer found himself on the poverty stricken streets of Bupae Island. It was an island of crime, drugs, corruption, and atrocity. What should have been a truly prosperous island had been taken over by a group of pirates. In the ten years that James Hideki, the Red Sparrow, had arrived on the island, he had completely swept over Bupae and bent it to his ambition and will. Unfortunately for the people of the corrupted island, James' will was selfish, brutal, and solely focused amassing power for his own sake. And it was that ambition that Isaac had set himself out to destroy upon learning the truth of the destitution and desperation of the people of Bupae Island.

James Hideki, however, was not nowhere to be found on the island. Instead, through a series of events that saw Isaac infiltrate the "Red Sparrows," it was found that the patriarch of the Hideki family was away on business at Sabaody Archipelago. And with the help of a ragtag group of young adults who were akin to teenagers in comparison to Isaac, the second in command (who was none other than James' eldest son) of the ruling government of Bupae had been defeated and their source of power that they used to keep a grip over the populace of their island was destroyed. But for a man like Isaac, that would never be enough. The people of Bupae Island would never be freed from the tyranny of the Red Sparrows until the head of the proverbial snake had been cut off.

And so, Isaac set out back on the high seas with his destination squarely set on Sabaody. What he could not account for was his sudden request to rejoin the ranks of the Marines. Request, however, was something of an overstatement. His supervisor, Alec Cameron, had more or less demanded his return whether by compliance or force. Luckily for the young Marine, the official that had first located with him was none other than Commodore Claude Vanwright who was a lifelong friend and academic classmate of Isaac's. Knowing he could not fight the order, Isaac resigned himself and boarded the Rushing Winds with the Commodore. Luckily for him, his destination was not changed and by hook or by crook, Isaac had finally made his way to Sabaody.

---

"Well friend, we've arrived."

Indeed they had. The ever looming mangrove trees that had come into view several hours ago had finally given up its secrets as the port to the island neared. Docking with several other Marine vessels, Commodore Vanwright extended an arm out towards his friend and wished him well in whatever awaited him; after all, Isaac's sudden recall into the ranks of the Marines was unprecedented.

Clasping the much larger man's arm in his own course hand, Lieutenant Junior Grade Saifer returned the well wishes. "Thank you for the ride Claude." Though their reunion was short lived, there was a spark in Isaac's remaining eye; he could not wait to set off in search for the scourge that was James Hideki. It was that same twinkle, however, that gave Claude pause enough to issue a final warning to the loose cannon that was Isaac. "Head straight to the base, Isaac. Do not make the Inspector wait...for your sake and mine."

SPOILER: Click to show

{OC Colors}Saifer - #007299
Pluto - #8452bb
Rebecca - #00fffb
Ara - #ffdcbe
Commodore Claude Vanwright - #46e9ff

[/blockquote][/font][/font]

[BlacKitten]

Pluto - 2

“!” Hendrik’s eyes widened as the world spun upside down; his body spinning halfway until his feet were flung up into the air. He felt his left wrist secured by a bone crushing grip where a strange force spiraled up his arm, causing his elbow to protrude outwards. Then, that force went into his shoulder, then his torso, and then his entire body. From just a single grip, he felt his entire body compromised.

“Rebecca,” a gentle voice spoke down towards the girl embracing him. “It’s dangerous to be hugging me when I’m under attacked.”

Miraculously, Hendrik found himself landing awkwardly onto his feet, standing right towards the siblings’ flank. From an onlooker’s point of view, it may have even looked as if he had coordinated himself to land firmly onto his feet. But to anyone who felt it firsthand, it was very much the thrower who placed him in that position. The boy wanted him to land onto his feet. That level of fine control sends shivers down the doctor’s spine. “?” His eyes suddenly shifted as his left arm suddenly went limp. “Wha-?” Even though his left wrist had been released right before his landing, it was only now he notice that his left shoulder had been dislocated from its socket. Furthermore, a dark hand-shaped bruise was left as an imprint on his left wrist.

In that one movement, he threw me, dislocated my arm, and landed me right back onto my feet. And… he did all that without even looking at me?

He attacked the boy from behind, yet this child was able to defend himself without the need of his eyes.

His left hand still held onto its Liston knife. In fact, with his tendons being crushed by the grip from earlier, he doubts he could have opened his fingers even if he wanted to.

“Look,” Pluto gestured his pointed finger towards the lanky man, “He will be your opponent.”

Rebecca looked to her side, gazing anxiously at the towering white-haired criminal with glasses.

The man’s right hand wrapped around, held onto his opposite shoulder, and pulled his bone right back into its socket. Crack! He had a split-second tension on his face as if to endure a sharp pain before his eyes narrowed onto the siblings, now no longer daring to underestimate them.

The boy gently brushed his younger sister’s arms down as he turned to step towards the doctor. “Watch carefully, Rebecca. Pay attention to my footwork.”

Without any warning, Hendrik sprung forth, with blades glimmering under the light. But his opponent suddenly made an explosive step with his palms brushing his arm to the side, warding the attack away.

“Forty-five degrees! Feel his energy upon contact!”

“Eh!?” Hendrik suddenly felt his balance compromised.

“See this?” Pluto continued to explain to his younger sister. “Hooking foot. His weight is on the right, so I can sweep his left foot.”

“Arugh!” Hendrik soon slammed into the ground.

“Control the wrist and elbow. Attack his center,” he explained how he managed to control the man’s joints to slam him into the ground. “In this situation, disarm him,” the boy removed the knife from the man’s hand. “Whatever weapon you take, use it against them,” he proceeded to stab the man’s back using the Liston knife.

Hendrik growled in pain. He was pinned the ground, unable to get up. The more he resisted, the more it felt like the tendons in his joints would rip apart. Furthermore, this boy was going easy on him, deliberately stabbing him in a nonvital spot yet drawing blood and staining the white lab coat in crimson.

Rebecca watched in both awe and fear. Her brother’s fighting methods were being broken down into basics, being executed live against a hostile criminal. He engaged his opponent by stepping out at a forty-five-degree angle while brushing the attack away. Upon contact with the opponent, he was able to feel his man’s energy, quickly identifying his weight distribution. He then swept the unweighted leg outwards using a hooking foot before joint locking the man onto the ground, disarming one of his knives to then stab him.

“There’s no reason to feel any pity,” said the brother after reading the girl’s expression. “Do not feel sorry for him. This man had used these very knives against countless of victims.”

Rebecca nodded quietly, realizing that her brother had quickly read what she was feeling and thinking.

Ara watched from the side. She was no stranger to the sight of blood, but this was a hard lesson for someone like Rebecca to take in. Wrestling and playing with her own brother was fun and games, but she couldn’t have such carefree mindset in the face of danger.

[Lord Bromosalino]

Map of Sabaody Archipelago

It had been many, many years since now Lieutenant Junior Grade Isaac Saifer had set foot onto the Sabaody Archipelago. In fact, thinking back on his last trip to this strange set of islands, it had been well over eighteen years when Isaac, now a twenty-six year old man, was a young boy at the tender age of eight or nine. Blessed with a photographic and eidetic memory in the truest sense of the word, Isaac was able to recall many of the buildings he had seen and stored away into his brain all those years ago; specifically the ever popular Sabao Dome and Sabaody Park. Both were the clear highlights of his visit as a young child and a source of continuous pestering directed at his father in hopes of taking him there once more during their month long business trip. Fantastically large roller coasters and carnival rides spread out across the landscape and even rose to match the lowest branches of the tallest mangroves.

The amusement park was, if he remembered correctly, in the "thirty" section of the archipelagos. A quick scan with his left eye towards the nearest piece of foliage confirmed to Isaac that he was indeed nearby the Sabaody Park as he spotted a brightly painted "41" on the tree. As one could expect from a simple analysis of the name, Sabaody Archipelago was split in many smaller islands. And in order for the citizens of this fantastically strange island to keep each clump of trees straight in their own heads, each cluster of islands were given a number ranging one to seventy-nine. These "zones" seemed to split the islands by nature of their function; whether that be pleasure, business, and even lawlessness versus order.

And where the Rushing Winds had made port was the closest port to the park; the forty to forty-nine section of Sabaody. This area, much like the large bubble based attractions of the park, was very much so dedicated and tailor made for the many tourists that made their way to the "end of Paradise" each and every year. This was the home of shops, luxury businesses, stunning hotels, fine dining, and all manner of indulgence. It was a place where one could easily part way with their hard earned beri if they did not keep their head on straight and a tight grip on their wallets. There were simply too many pleasures available in one compact area.

And while it was a place with brightly painted buildings adorned by spectacular banners and lights, it had meant that Isaac was far from the Marine Headquarters; a result of too many Marine ships and not enough room at the ports. As a result, Commodore Vanwright was forced to use the northeastern ports. The Marine base that the newly reinstated Marine was to report to was located in the sixty zone which was rested to the very south of the island. Due to the geographical nature of the island, Isaac would have to make a choice on how to proceed. He could travel southbound along the edge of the island into the much safer fifty zones or he could cut straight across the island. The latter, however, meant he would be traversing the lawless area of the island.

And though bounty hunters and pirates vied for control of these zones, it was the quicker of the two options. After all, there was a reason "as the crow flies" was common parlance. Sweeping the blond locks away from his face, the sun kissed face turned upwards to observe the glaring ball of fire in the sky. Sun is directly overhead. That means south is this way, thought Isaac as he quickly deduced the his direction of travel.

Ever the consummate professional, Isaac was one who took great pride in his status as a noble; not because of birthright but because it symbolized the hard work his family had arduously labored to achieve that status. As such, as he walked down the cobble lined streets past both a clothing business and a seafood themed restaurant, Isaac never let his posture slip or slouch. Back straight, chest opened, and head held proudly, his body remembered the many light smacking from his mother during his upbringing. Only a lazy and sloppy man slouches, as mother would say.

And while Isaac would have liked to think that it was that "noble" demeanor that he had about him that was drawing glances from passerby's, he knew that was not truly the case. The truth was, the glances were a result of his strangely constructed Marine jacket. Fashioned to match the conditions of the North Blue (where he had spent the last decade of his career), the jacket sported a thick fur-lined collar and sides. What was most strange however was the fact that the jacket's color was inverted from the standard Marine coat; Isaac's was primarily blue and was curiously missing the trademark large seagull on its back. Instead, on the bottom left helm of the jacket was a small imprint of the white seagull. Unique as it was, there was no mistake, this one eyed man was a true blue Marine.

And despite his confident stride across the many populated towns, the fact that he was alone stood out even more. Crossing from the final zone of the tourist area and into the first zone of the notoriously lawless area, which read zone fifteen, there were surely many who questioned just who this strange person was. Was he truly a Marine? And if so, why was he venturing into such a notorious place as this alone? And though this was home to those that had made a living based on their deplorable actions or outright crimes, not one had yet to approach Isaac despite their prying eyes.

Crossing over one of the many natural bridges of the mangrove forests that connected each zone to the next, Isaac was greeted with a shock. Painted, like every zone, on the tree was the number sixteen which indicated that Isaac was indeed on the right path and had not lost his way. What caused him to stop and reconsider his route was what was hanging from that particular tree; the hanging corpse of a Marine.

This was a message. A message that he of all people was not welcomed here.

SPOILER: Click to show

{OC Colors}Saifer - #007299
Pluto - #8452bb
Rebecca - #00fffb
Ara - #ffdcbe

[BlacKitten]

Pluto - 3

Blood trickled down the small chrome blade before slowly dripping from the tip and splattering against the white cloth.

“Tch!” Hendrik gritted his teeth.

Crack!

Suddenly, the doctor was spun pushed himself up as he momentarily hovered in midair.

“!” Ara was taken aback as the man attempted to escape from Pluto’s pin. The doctor had deliberately dislocated his own shoulder to slip out from his disadvantageous position.

A shadow loomed over the idly standing boy. A white glare sparkled from those round glasses and a sadistic white smile formed. “You underestimate me, boy!” yelled Hendrik as he spun his body around in midair, swinging a kick towards the side of the kid’s face.

With a subtle dip in his stance, Pluto narrowly evaded the assault which breezed over his hair. His eyes continued to look over his little sister as if he had not finished speaking to her yet.

Upon landing on his feet, Hendrik quickly reconnected his shoulder back into its socket, having freed his arm. Crack!

This kid is starting to piss me off!

“Hm?” Hendrik furrowed his brows, noticing that the knife in the boy’s hand was no longer there.

Having not moved from his original spot, Pluto proceeded to explain to his little sister, “When your opponent is outside of your range, you can resort to long range attacks – such as throwing knives.”

“Throwing… - Wha-!?” As the pain of dislocating his shoulder twice started to calm, Hendrik suddenly felt a sharp pain on his left leg. Upon gazing down, he was completely bewildered at the sight of his own knife impaling him in the quadricep. A darkened patch expanding against his dark pants as blood spilled out, just barely missing the major artery in the leg.

“Eh!?” Rebecca blinked as her eyes took notice of the knife in the leg just now. “When did you do that?”

Pluto lifted up an index finger to explain a point, “When you opponent’s attention is on the right, attack them on the left. His mind was on the kicking leg, so I attacked the other leg.”

“Grr…,” Hendrik tensed up, wincing. He did not even notice the boy throwing that knife at him. When did he throw it? How did he do it? He could not read this kid at all. The boy was talking to the little girl as if the man were not even there.

Just who the heck is this kid? They do not look like pirates to me. He’s just treating me as a teaching device.

“Are you ready to take him out?” asked the boy, speaking to Rebecca.

“I’ll try my best,” the youth clenched her fists with a spark of determination.

Hendrik gave a disinterested glance at the little girl, feeling almost insulted to think that this cutesy harmless specimen could be deserving of being his opponent.

Seriously? You think this little pipsqueak is going to be a threat to me? Just how little does this kid think of me?

“Alright, let me weaken him up first.”

Wait…. What!?

Suddenly, the muscles in the boy’s body visible started to warp beneath the skin. A heartbeat later, an explosion of pain resonating and screamed throughout the man’s body.

“ARUGH! UGH! AH!” The doctor cried out as his vessel seemingly vibrated on the spot, his flesh warping and indenting from various spots.

Ara gently covered her mouth as she watched the instantaneous barrage of assaults, “Oh my.”

The temples.

The chin.

The jugular notch.

The solar plexus.

The liver.

The groin.

The side of the knees.

Nine different targets; nine separate assaults connected in a seamless, fluid movement, starting from the head and going down from there. In order to achieve the speed necessary to target all of these weak points in an instant, Pluto had converted the muscles in his body to contain a high ratio of fast-twitch fibers, a skill developed through the transformative nature of his Devil Fruit power.

From nothingness to the very extremes and back into nothingness, the violet-eyed martial artist completely hid the engine of his body. Nothing was telegraphed. The nature of his movements was akin to an Iaidō master drawing their sword and sheathing that very blade in an instant.

Collapsing onto his hands and knees, Hendrik’s bulged eyes stared at the ground with red veins visible in his sclera. Beads of sweat trickled down his body. His limbs trembled from an alien mixture of pain and numbness. His heartbeat raced faster than ever before. Saliva coughed out from his mouth. Blood from his two stab wounds seemed to deplete his life force as agonizingly slow as possible. Overcame by sheer shock and trauma by the simultaneous pain from seemingly every region of his body, he could not even form any concrete thoughts.

If the past few seconds were a movie, he only remembered two frames. The first frame was the boy being motionless and still. The second frame was him falling to the ground in debilitating pain. He had not the slightest of clue on what happened between the first and second frame. The boy’s muscles seemed to have warped; the air seemed to have blurred a bit right as everything began to hurt.

What did he just do? I don’t understand.

Did he hit me? What’s going on? Everything hurts. I can’t move. 

Get away. I must get away. That guy is a freak. I must run.

[Lord Bromosalino]

Swaying ever so slightly from the strong breeze that pushed its way past the branches and penetrating into the deep thickets of the mangrove forest, the whole forest seemed to come alive from this one small change. This cool oceanic breeze provided a much needed cooling effect for the rather humid island. What should have been a blistering day, at nearly ninety five degrees Fahrenheit (or thirty five degrees Celcius), the gale instantly cooled the area that it rushed past. At the same time, the incoming rush of air brought along with it a peaceful and serene whistling as it mingled with the branches, leaves, and other manner of foliage. By all accounts, this should have been an immaculate afternoon filled with peace and ease.

However, that was not the case. Swaying in tandem with the rest of the mangroves, the body of an unknown and unnamed Marine male was hung a mere fifteen feet above the ground. With thinning hair that had long since turned white from a lack of minerals and a body that had become thin and gaunt, it was clear to anyone with a simple understanding of human anatomy could see that this was not a recent addition to the sixteenth lawless zone of Sabaody Archipelago. No, this poor soul had been turned into a warning sign long before the gazing current (and very much so alive) Marine Isaac Saifer had arrived to this place. The severe livor mortis in the soles of his feet made that quite clear to the curious Isaac.

This was not the first time that the storied Marine had seen or experienced death at such close proximity. In fact, it was more often than not the case that he was the one that was being used as the weapon to take life from another. That in combination with the type of smaller engagements and tasks he had been assigned to in the second half of his career, the stoic man had also acted as medical examiner of sorts when a quick and rudimentary examination and investigation was required.

And though it was quite clear why this man had been not only killed but placed at the entrance to this zone, Isaac could not help but examine the nameless Marine closer. While under normal circumstances Isaac would treat the body of a fellow Marine with utmost care and respect, he lacked the personal protective equipment to do so and he could not afford to take the risk of carelessly touching the body without the proper protection; a decomposing body would be host to all manner of bacteria and infection.

Picking up a fallen branch, Isaac first poked at the man's legs and arms. No muscle stiffness, he thought to himself. Post mortem rigor mortis was caused by a release of chemicals in the human body which tensed and stiffened the deceased muscles. This stiffness typically did not present itself for up to twelve hours from the time of death and would last in the human body for approximately three days. This man's body had long expelled those chemicals. A combination of gravity and thinning of his body (and perhaps wild animals) had caused one of the Marine's boots to have fallen off revealing a barefoot. It was there that Isaac had initially located signs of livor mortis, the pooling of one's blood. Without a heart beat to push the blood to the vital organs that depended on it as a source of life, it simply gathered to the lowest place that gravity would push it to. In this case, his feet which had become purple and now swollen from the excess blood. If he were to make a guess, Isaac would have ventured that this stranger had been left here to serve as a warning for well over three months.

All of these signs, however, simply provided evidence to the curious Marine that his fellow soldier had long since passed away. None of this told the story of the how. That, though, was much less complex than reading bio-mechanical signs of an already deceased human. Eight different lacerations across the man's back, arms, and chest told the story of a man tortured. Three puncture wounds in his upper chest served as the final chapter of his fleeting life. This Marine's death had not been swift or kind. And with a piece of wood hanging around the man's neck, there was no doubt of the intentions his death was meant to serve; Marines not welcomed.

And without so much as a name, division, or any other piece of information that could potentially identify the Marine, this nameless man would never be given a proper funeral. Even worse, perhaps, were the letters and calls of regret and condolences that would never be delivered to loved ones who would spend an eternity awaiting news of his return. This place would be his final resting place and only his attackers, perhaps, would know who this unfortunate soul was. All Isaac could do was provide his own show of respect; a crisp, yet tumultuously somber salute and a heavy moment of silence.

So this is Sabaody, Isaac lamented, leaving the warning sign behind and pressing further across the island. It seemed, then, true; no island was without its own evil. Sabaody included.

SPOILER: Click to show

{OC Colors}Saifer - #007299
Pluto - #8452bb
Rebecca - #00fffb
Ara - #ffdcbe

[BlacKitten]

Pluto - 4

“?” Something flew right towards him. Hendrik’s attention deviated from the boy, turning to see a blunt mass flying towards his face. “Urgh!” His face concaved upon impact. His glasses cracked. His watery eyes made out the blurry silhouette of a smaller framed figure in front of him. From a kneeling position, his head flung back as a knee smashed into him as if someone struck by a small bowling ball.

“Kuh!” The doctor staggered up to his feet with blood trailing down his nostrils. His eyes twitched through his crooked glasses to see the little girl standing before her in a readied posture.

Do you think I would hold back just because you are a little girl? Just how many children do you think I’ve dissected?

Arms limping at down, the man swayed side to side with a delicate grip onto his knives. Suddenly, he bolted straight for the youngest one without any restraint. With a maniacal grin plastered on his face, he thrusted his right hand forth to stab.

Here he comes…

“Arugh!” Suddenly, his torso caved in, his head swinging forth as he felt a blunt force striking him in the solar plexus.

Rebecca had leaped forty-five degrees to the side, deflecting the man’s attack with both palms warding to the side. And with that same momentum, she managed to thrust in an elbow.

I’m scared. But my body is moving on its own. 

“Khh…, you can fight?” The doctor furrowed his brows, having never seen a girl as young as this to be able to deftly counterattack. His eyes narrowed upon seeing a small fist rising towards his face. Unlike the boy, this girl was not superhuman. She was trained, but her physique was still within the realm of humankind. Still holding some semblance of confidence, the man swung his head back in attempt to stay out of range from the uppercut.

“Urgh!” Suddenly, his head flung back from a sharp impact to the chin.

What!?

He didn’t notice it before, but he could feel the reason of his inability to dodge. It wasn’t just an uppercut. This girl had simultaneously stomped onto his leading foot while executing the rising assault. With his foot pinned, Hendrik wasn’t able to move far back enough to evade.

I’ve seen my brother fight so many times at a distance. I know how he’d respond to each attack. 

Rebecca’s heart had conflicted feelings. While successful in landing her blows, a part of her cringed with every hit. She was not used to engaging in violence despite witnessing violence so many times. She couldn’t understand the type of mindset needed to do this constantly. As emotions stirred within her, she felt fear. The fear of becoming a monster, someone who is numbed to inflicting pain on others, numbed to the cries of pain, and numbed to the humanness of others. Her brother had been fighting for years. Was he numb to all of this?

For years, her older brother had protected her with his life. He had been doing all the fighting, all the violence. They journeyed together, explored the same islands, traveled the same roads. Yet, her innocence remained intact whereas Pluto was losing his human self with each passing day.

A terrifying thought lingered in her head, one she never dared to ponder about: what did it mean to take a life? She had always suspected that her brother had taken countless lives, most of which hidden from her pure eyes to gaze upon. Bloodshed hidden from her behind a curtain, she never felt that it was her place to criticize Pluto for being heartless and cold. She couldn’t fathom the thought of taking a life with her own two hands. She couldn’t fathom how such acts could change a person.

Practicing and training in martial art was fun; she got to spend time with her brother and play with him. But at the end of the day, real martial arts were stemmed from battles. Techniques she learned came from someone experimenting them on live human beings. The skills she practiced carried a dark, sinful history behind them.

Pluto… is this why you were against me learning martial arts?

“!” Ara shifted her gaze towards the boy, particularly his hands. She saw Pluto’s hands twitching and tensing up; his fingertips curling ever so inwards in resemblance of claws. Watching his younger sister fight must have been a painful experience for him. He looked like he was ready to intervene the split second any harm would come Rebecca’s way. His deadly focused gaze onto the skirmish between a grown up and a child, his Kenbunshoku Haki was in full usage, observing and foreseeing the actions of each combatant.

[Lord Bromosalino]

Zone Six.

Once again jumping up atop the roots of the giant mangroves, Lieutenant Junior Grade Isaac Saifer reached up and grabbed hold of the thick ropes that lined the bridge that connected one gigantic tree to the next. With a grunt, he hoisted himself up and took a second to steady himself on the swaying suspension bridge. Strange, the stoic Marine thought. He had just left zone sixteen of the infamous lawless zone of Sabaody Archipelago. And yet, despite moving in a linear fashion, the next several zones he had come across all held a random spattering of numbers; first sixteen, then ten, and now six. This suggested that the zones were set up in a circular position. In either case, he was still on the right path and had not gotten lost; a welcomed thought to be sure. And with the sun directly overhead and peeking through the thicket, Isaac was confident he was making good time and would not miss his appointed meeting.

And luckily for the one eyed Marine, his rather quick paced trek across the many islands of Sabaody had been largely uninterrupted; save for his inspection of the dead Marine. This was the lawless zone, a safe haven for pirates, criminals, and bounty hunters alike. It was rumored to have been the home for all e'er-do-wells and rogues of all stripes and colors. Yet, and fortunately for the time pressed man, he had yet to truly encounter any such threat. There had been prying eyes and hushed whispers to be sure, but none had dared approach the Marine as of yet. Perhaps it was the stoic and menacing look that rested on his face. Or maybe his confident stride. Whatever the reason, he had been left alone to freely travel through the last several groves.

This "luck" was something that made the Marine uncomfortable. While he had yet to be approached, Isaac could not help but observe each home, business, and town square that he passed through. And befitting of the title this collection of groves had garnered for himself, all manner of unsavory people had been seen; including several pirates that even the only newly reinstated Marine recognized. This, then, presented itself as something of a conundrum for the rather staunch Isaac.

How was it that the Marines simply allowed such a criminal presence to take hold of perhaps one of the single most important islands in the Grand Lines? And as Isaac dropped down from the bridge that connected zone six to zone four, he could see another small town in the distance. Like all other towns within these collections of zones, he was fairly certain that there would be even more pirates and vagabonds of every ilk. And as it was with every other town, there was a distinct lack of Marines or presence of order. Was it really any sort of surprise that these towns and homes appeared to be rundown and business (outside of the bars consequently) struggling to stay open?

"Hey you!"

"Hmm?" Snapped out of his thoughts, Isaac's attention was drawn back out to the immediate present. The voice, which was shrill in nautre, however seemed to lack a physical body; or at least one that Isaac was unable to find. "Turn around now, Marine dog." The second time the voice spoke out, however, allowed the Marine dog to locate its origins. Sitting on a somewhat low hanging branch and playing with a rather long knife, a young boy served as either a protector of the town or, and more likely, nothing more than a road thief of unsuspecting travelers. With fiery red hair and an equally fire gaze, the scrawny boy again repeated himself. "Turn around now."

Lieutenant Junior Grade Isaac Saifer, for his part, took the perceived threat as little more than inconsequential. The unnamed redhead was not much of a real threat. His young age and diminutive build did not speak to any real threat; even the twirling blade between his fingers was not much of a true hazard. With a dismissing look on his face and a simple "No," Isaac made it quite clear that he would not heed the boy's warning; he had places to be.

This however seemed to do nothing but anger the boy. Throwing the knife and embedding it in the firm ground between the trespassing Marine's feet, the fiery redhead too dropped to the ground. Pulling another set of knives from his tattered red coat, which looked as if it had belonged to a long deceased pirate captain, this boy remained adamant. The Marine would not be allowed to pass.

SPOILER: Click to show

{OC Colors}Saifer - #007299
Pluto - #8452bb
Rebecca - #00fffb
Ara - #ffdcbe

[BlacKitten]

Pluto - 5

Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump!

Rebecca felt her heart racing. The sight of those glimmering small knives brought her a dreadful sense of anxiety. As much as she tried to focus on the man’s core body movement, those shiny blades kept on distracting her. Had it not been for the constant fighting drills being ingrained into her, she might have simply ended up frozen in fear. The ability to move on reflex without conscious thought, this was her brother’s natural talent, an attribute that had to be carved into her muscle memories.

Whoosh!

The girl shifted her weight to the side with eyes widened in shock as a knife flew right past her face. She didn’t expect the man to deliberately abandon one of his own weapons like that.

Suddenly, Hendrik flapped his unbuttoned lab coat outwards, revealing a myriad of instruments and tools being concealed on the inner side of his coat. Dozens of small knives. Syringes with a dosage of colored fluid already prepared inside. Scissors. Tiny clamps. Hooks. The mad doctor had been carrying all sorts of equipment beneath his coat.

“Eh! S-Scary!” Rebecca wasn’t usually afraid of doctors or getting her shots, but she just might obtain a new phobia from this man.

“Hmm…, he’s no longer a suitable opponent for her,” Pluto uttered as he began to slowly approach closer to the fight scene.

“It’ll be hard to counter his next move with martial arts alone,” Ara stepped alongside him with her right hand reaching back to grip her white spear.

Hendrik flung four knives from his hands. As Rebecca lunged to the side to dodge, the blades suddenly curved their trajectory, homing in towards her.

“Eh!?” The girl widened her eyes, noticing the shimmering strands attached to each of those knives.

Wires?

Right before she thought her body would be skewered, a shadow quickly emerged in front of her, shielding her form the blades. After a few seconds of recognizing who it was, her fearful expression quickly brightened into a bright smile, “Pluto!”

The brother had stepped in, catching two of the knives in his hands as another two raveled around his wrists, entangling his forearms. Four thin metallic wires linked him to Hendrik who was tugging the strands with his bare hands.

“?” Hendrik furrowed his brows. “These wires are sharp enough to cut through flesh. I’m surprised you aren’t so much as bleeding. No matter, I’ll just – AHH! AHHHH! ARUGH!!!” His voice was cut off by an abrupt electrical current running through his hands, paralyzing his entire spasming body.

“These wires look like pretty good conductors to me,” the boy commented as purple static electricity erupted from his hands. “This is my bioelectricity.”

A short few seconds later, Hendrik’s arms went limp, dropping the wires from his hands. He looked to be on the brink of falling over. His head was cocked back with whitened eyes. His fingers twitched. “Haah… Haah…,” a few faint breaths later, he coughed, desperately reclaiming his consciousness which had lost for just a moment.

A loathsome, bloodshot glare shot straight towards the siblings. Veins bulged from his temples. “I’ve had it with you two! Don’t think they you’ll get away with – ARUGH!” He gasped before finishing his sentence as he felt something pierce right through his body.

His cracked glasses fell onto the ground. A soft, sweet voice from behind almost sounded like a lullaby that made him want to be put to sleep, “That’s enough.”

His eyes wearily slid towards his rear, and from a distance, he saw a blurry image of a young maiden in white silk wielding a long spear with a white shaft. Despite being the only one carrying an obvious weapon, this beautiful girl was the last person he expected to be attacked by.

Damn it!

Hendrik felt his body falling, but right before he could thump onto the ground, a metal shaft slamming into the side of his head. Everything went black as his body hurled through the air, bouncing across the dirt before rolling to a stop.

By just lowering his arms, Pluto allowed the wires and knives to slide off and fall to the ground. Turning back, he took a glance at his younger sister who was quick to tackle and cling onto him. “Alright,” he patted her on the head, “That’s good enough for today.”

“Mhm,” Ara withdrawn her spear onto her back as she approached the siblings. “You did well, Rebecca.”

Rebecca pouted, “But I still wasn’t able to beat him even after Pluto weakened him up.” She sounded a bit defeated. In the end, the two of them had to come help her.

“Don’t worry about that,” Ara kneeled beside her and smiled to comfort her, “It’s your brother’s fault for bringing such a strong opponent in the first place.”

“Eh!?” The boy flinched.

“Pluto,” Ara looked at him suspiciously. “What exactly was his bounty?”

Beads of sweat trickled down his neck as the boy felt confronted by Ara. “… E-Eighty-one million,” he muttered timidly.

“Huh!?” Rebecca flinched. She hadn’t the slightest of clue of the doctor’s bounty. Any atrocious, vicious monster on the receiving end of her brother’s techniques would all appear humanized. What might have been a terrifying, despicable villain to her would just be another hapless victim begging for mercy under her brother. Perhaps to Pluto, he could not distinguish the kittens from the rabbits because at the end of the day, they all appeared like harmless fluffy creatures in his eyes.

“I-Is it really that high?” Pluto looked away from them, avoiding eye contact.
The two girls gazed upon him with blank stares.

“B-Bounties only indicate their threat to the World Government; t-they don’t necessarily equate to strength. A-Ara… you are good at measuring people. He wasn’t that strong, right?”

Ara stayed silent.

“B-Besides…, I didn’t think it mattered how strong they are so long as I weaken them up enough for Rebecca to have a reasonable chance against them.”

Ara’s silence suddenly broke into a giggle, “Pluto, are you afraid of me?” She teasingly leaned closer, evoking the boy to lean back out of hesitance.

Given that you can put me in a fight-or-flight mode, I’ll interpret this as fear.

[Lord Bromosalino]

"I said turn around now. You have no business here." Chest puffed, voice booming (despite its shrillness), and knuckles turning white from gripping the handles of the two knives held in a reversed grip, the young redhead's legs told a different story however. Knees shaking a nervous sweat across his forehead matched the quivering in his overly excited voice. He held each knife in front of his body akin to something like a boxer's stance; yet his over-emphasized grips spoke to his unease to using the blades in an actual fight. Befitting of that unease, his body shifted and swayed from side to side. Not in a comfortable back and forth movement of a rhythm fighter with years of experience but more like a restless child.

With a watchful eye trained on the jagged knives in the boy's arms, Isaac Saifer cast a sweeping glance over the young man. It was clear to the much more experienced and matured Isaac that the "guard" of this little town did not want to fight; his threats were empty despite the weapons he know wielded. Even the slight off kilter angle that he held the knives showed his inexperience. No, he did not want to fight. Was he being forced? Did he feel compelled? No, he willingly chose to make himself known to the "Marine dog." There was a reason.

"Move aside kid, you don't want this fight." Taking another a few steps forward, Isaac was met with the unmistakable whizzing sound of metal flying towards him. Despite the swiftness of the boy's arm, the unnamed redhead's aim was off by a few inches. Unfortunately, a few inches to the left over thirty feet meant that the knife flew over a foot away from it's intended target; the one eyed Marine's head. As quickly as the knife left his hand, another one was produced from the interior of his tattered cloak. "You're not welcomed here, Marine. You won't take anyone else from this town."

It was precisely because the young boy (who's name was Caspar) had met and seen how "real" Marines acted that he was so stalwart in his defense of his home. He knew about the dirty secret of the World Government. It was not only the pirates and criminals of the world that acted with malice and with evil. The Marines too had been caught with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar. That jar, however, contained such evils as slavery and trafficking. It was that evil that Caspar was a first hand witness of. The Marines of Sabaody Archipelago too participated in filling the slavery auction homes with merchandise; merchandise taken from his own village. The most beautiful of the women and the strongest of the men had all been taken. The result was a weakening of the village's workforce and security force. This had left the village unprotected and with nothing but the weakest members remaining. And Caspar was the only male left that could protect the rest of the villagers from the prowling hands of the Marines and pirates.

What he could not know, however, was that Lieutenant Junior Grade Isaac Saifer was no such Marine. Had Caspar known the truth of Isaac, he would have perhaps welcomed him to pass safely through this section of the lawless zone with open arms. But he did not know the truth of Isaac and could only see the ensemble of a Marine. Isaac, too, did not know the truth of the poor village he was attempting to pass through. He too could only see the fiery anger in the boy's eyes as well as the daggers in his hands. And though he was confident he could easily dodge the boy's next attack, Isaac was not too fond of pointy knives flying at towards his person.

Putting on a quick burst of Soru (which was accompanied by his own unique and signature crackling sound that his shave created), Isaac quickly closed the thirty or so feet between himself and the boy. In the same instant that the boy's right hand had again recoiled backwards to throw the dagger, the Marine re-appeared directly in front of the redhead; Isaac's hand clasping the boy's right wrist and locking it in place against the boy's own shoulder. Despite the shock of seeing another human being move that quickly, the boy kept his head and instantly brought his left arm (and the very sharp knife) up with the intent of stabbing the Marine in the side of the neck. But as quick as the boy was, Isaac was much, much faster. Isaac's right hand grabbed the incoming arm at the wrist taking great care to get under the blade and under the boy's thumb. From there, it was a rather simple movement in disarming the child of his weapon. By "breaking" the boy's thumb and wrist posture, he had no control over his own weapon any longer. And as Isaac snapped the wrist backwards, the knife fell harmlessly to the ground.

Twisting, to no avail, in an attempt to writhe out of the much taller and clearly stronger older man's grasp, the boy's already thinly concealed toughness and machismo broke down instantly. "Let go!" he yelled in a desperate attempt that matched the very real fear he was now fearing. Would he be killed? Or worse, be taken to the slave auctioneers himself and be sold into a lifetime of slavery and misery?

"Are you going to stop throwing knives at me?" Isaac, unamused, was treating the boy as just that; a boy. The Marine was simply trying to get by the boy. He had not provoked the child nor had he posed a threat to the boy's little town; he was blissfully unaware of the devilish nature some of his fellow "comrades" had harbored on this island. Of course his mood was hardly helped by the current situation he found himself. He had been forcefully been dragged to Sabaody in a manner not of his choosing and, to make matters worse, been forced to walk across the island due to overcrowded nature of the Marine port. In a word, Isaac was already in a rather foul mood. And while his naturally inquisitive and duty bound nature would have asked what the boy meant by taking "anyone else from this town," Isaac was too cross to stop and ponder that thought. His short break in zone sixteen and this child's disturbance meant Isaac was now running far later for his meeting with Inspector Alec Cameron than he would have liked.

"I just need to get to zone sixty-six. I don't really care for your little town." With no real way to escape the Marine's grip (despite his constant flailing and kicking about), the boy resigned himself and simply hoped the Marine's word was true. With his free hand , the boy pointed dead south. "Um...just go straight. The bridge on the right tree leads to the Marine headquarters. The left bridge will take you to the hotels and merchant district."

"Thank you, that's all I needed." Releasing his hold on the boy, Isaac continued in the prescribed direction leaving both the lawless zones and a very confused Casper behind.

SPOILER: Click to show

{OC Colors}Saifer - #007299
Pluto - #8452bb
Rebecca - #00fffb
Ara - #ffdcbe

[BlacKitten]

Pluto - 6

“Captain! Over there! They got Hendrik!” a desperate voice of a man cried out from a swarm of footsteps trampling down the street. There were at least two dozen of them, led by a muscular, dark-skinned, seven-foot tall man with grey mechanical arms and a circular lens for a right eye, seemingly connected to his face through complex electronics.

One of the subordinates kneeled on one leg while carrying a bazooka supported onto his shoulder. Without any hesitation, he fired a large, high-speeding projection towards the spear-wielding girl.

Gracefully, Ara swung her spear, ready to deflect the incoming shell.

BOOM!

Suddenly, an explosion erupted right in between two buildings, leaving scorch marks on the white-stone walls.

“!” Ara blinked for a moment, realizing someone was standing a few strides in front of her, back turned towards her. “H-Hey!” She complained as it was none other than Pluto who had stood between her and the assault. “I could’ve handled that myself,” she pouted, implying that she did not need to be rescued by him.

“Ah, sorry,” the boy scratched the back of his head. “My body moved on its own.”

Amatore Bezio, The Pulverizer

Bounty: 95, 000, 000

The red lens began beeping with neon green symbols appearing on the interior side as if the massive cyborg was gathering data from anything his right eye sees. 

“Hm!?” His human left eye widened as a siren alerted him. His digital right eye began flashing red.

“C-Captain… what’s wrong with your eye?”

“That boy,” he tensed his brows seriously. “I cannot register his movements at all.” His right arm suddenly began to rumble as the sound of engine started to activate. Electricity began spewing out as he aimed the barrel of his palm straight at the black-haired, violet-eyed adolescent.

“Eh?” Many of the subordinates began to flinch back as they gawked at their captain’s stance. “You’re going to use that right off the bat, captain?”

“I have a bad feeling about this boy,” said the cyborg with an outstretched arm and a widened sideways stance. Even if the kid were to dodge his attack, his two allies were right behind him.

“Hmm…,” Pluto stared at the cyborg intensely. “Ara. Rebecca. Stay right behind me.”

Suddenly, a massive, conical, white blast of concentrated air was unleashed from the captain’s palm. The product of the assault covered an entire city block’s worth of street completely. Along either side of the street, the very structure of the building began cracking. A few seconds later, the massive impulse of energy subsided, leaving behind an expanding trail of rubble on the ground – a trial that wrapped around a group of individuals that is.

“Hm!?” Bezio dropped his jaw.

As the cloud of dust dispersed, the foggy silhouette of the boy revealed its form as he stood in a low, widened stance. With his torso facing square on, his black, shimmering hands were outstretched, palms out as if holding up an invisible wall right in front of him.

The two girls were squatting right behind in his shadow. Ara began to sweat as the chaotic blast of power flashed in an instant. Her eyes darted towards Pluto whose grey cloak was left in tatters, revealing more of the pale dark-violet armor on his body, protecting his forearms, shins, and torso. His protective gear was tight-fitting onto his form, appearing metallic and lightweight. But more importantly, the girl was astounded by the fact he was standing there unharmed. She could sense a high concentration of Haki towards the palm of his hands, but something was strange. The quality of his Haki was unusually refined.

With an audible exhale, the boy lowered his hands, the black coating fading out.
The pirates began to freak out as someone just took on the full blast of their captain’s assault head on and remained standing.

“Y-You are…,” Bezio staggered a few steps back as fear possessed him like a haunting ghost. “That armor…,” he remembered a certain night. A hideout full of pirate captains and their crews gathering in an underground ring. Even the marines on the island dared not mess with them. No one in their right mind would have entered Hannai – the underground city that functioned as the lair for an entire army of diverse criminals.

However, there was one individual who defied all logic. An enigmatic agent, known as Midnight, entered their lair and completely wiped them out. A one-man-army who possessed a Zoan type Devil Fruit of a bat came and defeated hundreds of pirates that came swarming towards him. No one knew his face as it was hidden by a hood. But he wore a simple yet distinctive set of protective gear just like this boy.

[Lord Bromosalino]

Zone sixty-six. The one true home and refuge for the weary and truly innocent souls that called Sabaody Archipelago their home. Standing squarely in the middle of the law abound zone was the pride and jewel of any Marine, their base. Tall, sturdy, and standing proudly, this white and blue painted structure was a symbol of not only peace but of the necessary strength to support the peace every Marine spouted. Like the majority of the other Marine bases around the world, this symbol of law and order followed the same structural uniformity of its brothers and sisters. The core of the base was large and square in nature, almost like a large block. It was this block that would be home to the many twisting hallways, rooms, barracks, and major faculties of the base. Around each corner of the main body were large cylindrical towers that rose high into the warm sky; this would provide the lookouts with the ability to survey everything beneath them with great precision and ability. But, like every good castle, the thick walls enveloping this precious jewel was the most important piece.

Strong enough to withstand most, if not all, forms of firepower, these walls were immeasurably wide providing both a foothold and, if necessary, platform for battle for those that stood watch. Completely solid to its core, it was this wall that provided the citizens of Sabaody the confidence and ease of mind to sleep safely at night. These walls were durable. They could never fall. The large "MARINE" lettering would stand tall and appear in the daylight with each new sunrise. The blue seagull would spread its wings every morning and rise to the top of the base without fail. Such were the promises the faithful Marines made to their populace.

It was this same sense of awe and duty that reinstated Lieutenant Junior Grade Isaac Saifer was now feeling himself. There was something about a large building as this that demanded and drew respect out of the Marine officer. It was something akin to being atop of a mountain. In a word, awe. Yes, Isaac had left the Marine organization and had traveled the world as a citizen for the last six months. But, even during that time (and even more so now), Isaac was and had always been a Marine at his core. It was one of the most defining characteristics of the young man. In fact, despite the many countless hardships and devastating heartaches of the last ten years, everything Isaac was now was a direct result of his affiliation and association with the Marines. Unruly as he was, he was a Marine's Marine.

However, that being said, a sense of nervousness and perhaps even angst rose up from the pits of Isaac's stomach and managed to make its way to his usually stoic face; a slight perspiration forming across his forehead, his breath slowing and becoming labored, even his fingers quickly closing and opening with tension. For all of the awe and majesty that he felt emanating from the symbolic structure before him, to say Isaac was nervous would have been an understatement. Six long months. It had been just over half a year that he had been a Marine that could have even entered such a building as this. And now, he had had his arm pulled and twisted under threat of court martial into returning. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, was the only thought the wandering Marine could think. He had, in fact, not planned to return to the Marines for another full year...at a minimum. The circumstances were unfortunate to say the least.

Time, however, was of the essence when it came to dealing with Inspector Alec Cameron. The man was not one to be kept waiting. Inhaling the warm air sharply through his nostrils, Isaac held the air inside of his lungs for a full moment before slowly releasing it through pursed lips. It was simple technique that helped slow one's heart rate; something he often found himself doing when on the edge of battle and, perhaps even more nerve wracking, when meeting with a superior officer. For all of his many good and even great qualities as a Marine officer, winning the approval of his superiors was not a skill he possessed.

Especially considering the buttoned up and dutiful Marine that was the good Inspector. He was everything Isaac was not as an officer. Every law, regulation, and dictum was held to the utmost standard. There was no black and white. There was simply the written laws and policies of the Marines; nothing more, nothing less. There was no room to play inside of the gray zone that Isaac often found himself in. Where Inspector Cameron trusted in the tried and true ways of the Marines, Isaac trusted his gut (perhaps to a fault) more than in the orders of his superiors. In the Inspectors own words (by way of one of Isaac's many, many write ups), "Saifer is a loose cannon who stretches the liberties and authorities he has been given to near rebellious levels." As such, every meeting between the vastly different Marines was nothing short of tumultuous.

Turbulent as their previous meetings had been, and this impending meeting to be sure, Isaac could not spend the rest of the afternoon gawking. Forcing his boot clad feet to move, Isaac resumed his stride across the cobblestone road. Marching his way to the impressive gate that was the barrier to entering the base, Isaac twisted his head side to side until he heard the satisfying crack that released the tightness in his neck. Just another symbol of his apprehension and unease of what was to come.

Presenting his identification and papers to the two guards on the other side of the metal laced barrier, Isaac presented himself and waited. He knew the procedure. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Saifer for Inspector Cameron." Whipping out a Den Den Mushi from inside her jacket, the older yet shorter Marine relayed the information to her superior officer who was somewhere else inside the base. From there, he would contact Inspector Cameron who would authenticate who Isaac Saifer was and confirm that he had in fact called for the young Marine. "Very good sir," barked the female Marine into her communication snail (strange creatures was a thought Isaac often had whenever he saw a Den Den) before handing back Isaac's papers back to him. "You may enter, sir. Inspector Cameron is waiting for you in his office. Fourth floor, room B23."

"Thank you very much." It was time. What could the good Inspector have in store for Isaac? That very thought was filled with anticipation, unpleasant as it was sure to be. Standing around, however, would not answer that question.

SPOILER: Click to show

{OC Colors}Saifer - #007299
Pluto - #8452bb
Rebecca - #00fffb
Ara - #ffdcbe

[BlacKitten]

Pluto - 7

Several months ago, on an island in the Grand Line known as Athens, there was an underground smuggling ring past the abandoned mine. It was common sense to all native marine, pirate, and bounty hunter that stepping into the city of Hannai meant certain death. Heavily guard by ruthless pirates, this was a place that even the marines avoided as every squad of soldiers sent there had disappeared. With a history of nasty genetic mutations from scientists, there was a labyrinth filled with monsters. A Minitaurus, a creature whose strength rivals that of a pirate captain. A Hydru, the most dangerous creature on the island, was a multi-headed serpent with the regenerative properties. Cutting one head meant two would grow back.

Several pirate captains and their crews were present in Hannai. As midnight passed, the entire pirate force along with the mutated monsters were all eliminated. The Hydru’s seven heads were decapitated all at once. An army of outlaws were slices by numerous claws that slashed around in a continuous spinning storm. A massive whirlwind sucked up countless bodies into its voracious vortex. Even after taking on a Reject Dial and blown through several buildings, the winged intruder could still continue to fight.

And in the end, in the wake of the massacre, the mysterious fighter left Hannai after obtaining what he must have sought after – a mere marine lieutenant girl who had been the first to have ever leave the lair alive.

…

The cyborg couldn’t believe that the monster who wrecked the combined force of several pirate crews happened to be a mere boy who might have lived half as long as him. Even having received new upgrades to his body since that night, his powerful blast of compressed air that spread across the city block had been blocked by mere two palms.

“Damn… is he… even stronger than before?” Bezio muttered to himself. He may have gotten stronger, but the notion that the winged assassin could have gotten stronger would be a nightmare scenario. Out of everyone he had come across, this was the one individual he never wanted to encounter again.

Ba-dump!

“!” Bezio sharply dropped his head, gazing at the boy quietly standing just a stride away from him, facing him head on with their eyes met.

When did he!?


Like a startled cat, his hulking body jumped back, a cowardly action that contradicted his menacing appearance. The neighboring subordinates were slow on the uptake as they quickly flinched in unison from the boy suddenly closing the distance between them in complete silence.

To the cyborg, the boy’s movements were all too familiar as suppressed memories flashed through his mind. If he had to describe the assassin’s movements, then he would describe it as a phantom. Silent, abrupt, and eerily efficient, it was if every millimeter of wasted movement had been removed from the human body, making it seem completely unnatural. The boy moved less like a living being and moved more like a programmed machine – a machine made of flesh and bones.

“Hm?” Pluto tilted his head, appearing calm and unprovoked. “Why’re you all so scared? I haven’t done anything yet.”

Sweat trickled down Bezio’s neck. He dared not blink with his remaining human eye, focusing all his attention on this one individual. “That man you have over there. He’s our doctor. We would like him back.”

“Heh…,” the boy did not show the slightest bit of sympathy. “You needn’t be polite about it. If you think you can take him back, go right ahead.”

The cyborg gulped. “What do you plan to do with him?”

“I only want his bounty,” he said casually before narrowing his eyes towards the mechanical being, “But I certainly won’t mind doubling the reward.”

“Then,” the pirate captain grimaced. “We’ll pay you a hundred million Beri if you give him back.”

[Lord Bromosalino]

Matching its exterior decorum, the guts of the Sabaody Archipelago Marine base followed the same uniformity every other Marine base around the globe. White washed walls, every painting and marking streaked in the World Government's signature blue hue, and a mix gray and white checkered tiles sprawled out on the interior of the large structure. Like all other Marine strongholds, the strong smell of disinfectants filled the air; the smell of cleanliness was one that Isaac, a "neat freak," thoroughly enjoyed. All along the hallways hung portraits and photographs of the greatest Marines; the three great Admirals, Vice Admirals, and other Marines of legends. The crowning jewel in the reception area however was a large photograph of Fleet Admiral Akainu which adorned the large archway that stood just beyond the entrance; his steely visage looking down on all who entered this mighty base. He was the absolute symbol of strength, power, and duty. He was the very image that every Marine aspired (or in theory should) to match.

Long time Marine Isaac Saifer had never met the famed man individually, only ever as a nameless part of a crew or large scale ceremonies. And as he strode down the immaculately clean hallways and past the line of impressive Marines, Fleet Admiral Akainu remained on Isaac's mind; even more so than even Commodore Thor -who's photograph was framed near other Captains and Commodores- who was (then) Ensign Saifer's own commanding officer and long time mentor and friend. The highest ranking Marine was, in a word, dominant. A powerful Logia wielder, possessor of Haki capable of challenging even the great Yonko, the supreme word of the Marine Organization, and the face of the World Government. No other Marine was capable of matching either the authority or raw power of Akainu; not even the other Marine Admirals.

He really is the epitome of a perfect Marine, isn't he? Isaac thought as he navigated the many hallways of the Sabaody Marine Base. And yet, the Fleet Admiral was nearly everything Isaac himself was not. Absolute Justice had been upheld by the imposing man and had become synonymous with the way the Marine Organization was now being run. And while it was very so much different from Isaac's own SHIELD Justice, the much younger and lower ranking Marine had to admit to himself that Fleet Admiral Akainu's war on crime and piracy was effective if nothing else. And whle Isaac respected the safety that the new Fleet Admiral had been able to bring about, there was an unease he had about following down the same path that Akainu had prescribed for the rest of the Marines.

It was the same feeling Isaac felt whenever he spoke with Inspector Alec Cameron. The man's supervisor meant well and truly wished to see the scarred Isaac grow into the Marine he knew Isaac could become. And it was to that end, at least is what the Inspector claimed, the much senior officer continued to push the young man. Isaac, however, saw it very differently; Inspector Cameron seemed to rather wish to change every piece of the young man that had made him the man he was today. It was for this very reason that Isaac dreaded each meeting and each "Corrective Measurement Class" that the Inspector oversaw. It was in the last "Corrective Measurement Class" that Isaac had been stripped from his previous assignment. It wasn't until now, a year later, that even Isaac now agreed and even understood the Inspector's decision as they both knew that the young man needed the respite from his many responsibilities as an officer; he needed a chance to heal. However, the dread remained of which part the Inspector now wished to change.

Bounding up the stairs of the second floor and onto the third, Isaac took the first left hallway as he followed the sign of a posted placard that showed where the next staircase was. Passing by offices, dormitories, and faculties, Isaac made his way around the hundreds of unfamiliar (and, unfortunately, quickly forgotten) faces of the typical Marine grunts; Seaman Recruits and even low level non-commissioned officers milled about each completing their various duties. Though well known as a very stoic sort, even Isaac could not help but let out a soft chuckle, his lips curled into a slight smile as he thought about his earliest teenage years when he too was nothing more than a Seaman fresh out of the Marine academy. He too was quite forgettable, nothing more than a cog in the machine.

Finding the stairs that would lead to the fourth story of the Sabaody Marine Base, Isaac stopped to salute a passing Captain; though he was not one for the many traditions and expectations of the pomp and circumstances of the Marines, Isaac nonetheless followed the strict protocols that such an organization demanded. Returning the salute with much less care, the Captain paid little heed to his fellow officer, his own nose buried in his manila folder with his own assignment. Waiting for the Captain to pass, Isaac continued up the gray and white tiled stairs to the fourth floor. Here, there seemed to be much less bodies milling about the hallways. The fourth story had many more offices and work spaces; the clear silence was an indicator that this floor was for serious work.

"Room B23," muttered Isaac, his blue eye scanning the different doorways for the office of the good Inspector. Finding the room two-thirds of the way down the hallway and on the right hand side, Isaac stood to the side. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself for whatever surprise he would find inside, Isaac knocked on the steel laden door in quick succession. Knock, knock, knock. Standing in spot in a position of attention, Isaac waited to hear "Come in" before turning the handle and stepping inside.

Closing the door behind him, Isaac turned to face Inspector Cameron; feet together, left arm down to his side and close to his body, his right hand executing a picture perfect salute. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Isaac Saifer reporting for duty, sir!" Despite the informal nature Isaac preferred, he knew Inspector Alec Cameron cared very much so that all in his presence maintained the correct pageantry that the Marine structure required. And so, Isaac maintained his perfect form until given the signal that he could move to a position of "ease."

"Lieutenant. Sit, please."

Extending an arm towards the rather plain chair across from the desk Inspector Cameron was sitting behind, the aging officer returned the formalities before jumping into business. Inhaling a final puff from the cigarette that hung limply in his left arm, the older (by over fifteen years) Marine stubbed out the remains in the rather orante, silver laid ash tray. Removing the spectacles from his eyes and rubbing his eyes (which appeared as if they had not been given the opportunity to rest in several days), Inspector Cameron opened a rather thick red file. Flipping through several pages, the good Inspector found the spot he was looking for and turned the folder around so that Isaac could see exactly what had caught his superior's attention; and, more importantly, his ire.

"What kind of shit have you been up to?"

SPOILER: Click to show

{OC Colors}Saifer - #007299
Inspector Alec Cameron - #4ab345
Pluto - #8452bb
Rebecca - #00fffb
Ara - #ffdcbe

[BlacKitten]

Pluto - 8

From a bird’s eye view, the trio from the Revolutionary Army were at the center of Sabaody Archipelago, granting them flexibility to travel onto any of the other areas that surrounds them. North of Grove 10, they traveled across bridges that linked between the massive Mangrove trees. The background covered in rich, lush greenery with occasional large bubbles drifting around high above their heads.

Grove 30 was their starting point to Sabaody Park, a colorful, vibrant place where Rebecca could not contain her excitement. Her face was full of bright, warm energy like an impressionable child. She had journeyed to countless of islands with her older brother, but few could be compared to the mixture of beauty and diversity of this island. Along their walk from grove to grove, she had seen all sorts of sentient species. The occasional pirates and outlaws were simply commonplace in this era regardless of the island.

A ginormous tower served as an entry way with a short open hallway to step through. Beyond the building, a massive Ferris wheel, roller coaster, and various rides towered even the entrance. They would often find themselves tilting their heads up to gaze at the marvelous contraptions.

Ara glimpsed over at the boy who had been watching his younger sister for quite some time as opposed to his new environment. He had a peculiar look of nostalgia on his face. “What are you thinking?” she asked him.

Pluto, now lugging a massive dark-green backpack, flinched as if he had been caught red handed. His eyes wandered towards the voice before looking away in the opposite direction, “Nothing.”

“You’re lying,” she called him out on it.

“She’s smiling,” he uttered.

“Hm?” Ara was perplexed. “Rebecca smiles all the time.”

“Her smile is different this time,” he stated, visibly struggling to find the words to explain it. His eyes wandered off to the side, gazing at the other children and adults. They all wore the same expression. They all looked happy.

Ara traced the line of where his eyes were wandering towards. “I guess Rebecca is smiling more like a child than usual; she’s pretty giddy.”

“A child. Oh!” He took notice of the resemblance in their expressions – the pure joy and awe on their faces.

Rebecca had been gazing all around her before turning around to find the other two slowly catching up. She pointed towards a vendor where colorful fluff was being spun up around a paper cone, appearing like a massive afro of sorts, “Pluto! Look!”

“Oh, it’s cotton candy,” said Ara.

“Cotton… candy?” The boy blinked.

Moments later, Pluto handed over a thin white paper cone with a large pink ball of fluff. Despite its size, it was surprisingly light, like holding a container of air.

“Thank you!” the little girl smiled, accepting the amusing edible ball of fluff. She pulled out a small clump with threads being torn off from the rest before starting to nibble on the piece. Outstretching the cone over, she welcomed Ara and her brother to try some.

And so, they did. A taste of sweetness lingering in their mouth with a strange playful texture unlike any other food.

“What do you think?” Rebecca asked.

The boy slowly chewed – almost uncomfortably so. “I feel like I’m eating fur.”

The two girls giggled.