Post by BEX on Jun 23, 2010 19:48:03 GMT -5
Rolling the toothpick in his mouth Jack whistled as he heaved another crate of fish to the waiting arms of the fishermen. The port bustled with activity as the day had begun once more and the newly resurrected Saint Reia moved towards a brighter future or least that’s what most people tended to do. A sigh escaped Jack’s mouth as he wiped sweat from his forehead causing his the sleeve of his worker uniform to darken with the added moisture. His eyes lazily drifted down towards the fishermen, who were clamoring eagerly about the large number of fish that they had caught on their last expedition, but the young man quickly lost interested in that. For the moment he had nothing to so he allowed his body to drop to the hull of the small dingy that the fishermen had been loading the fish from. Unforgiving pain welled up from where his back had initially made contact with the hard wood, but it was soon forgotten as he put his arms over his head and stared longingly at the clouds. Another sigh passed through his thick lips as the raps bounced into his ear drums with lyrical precision while he imagined a different life,
“Those clouds look so free…I wish I could simply float away with the world beneath and not care about the troubles that go on between mankind” he wished aloud before a small figure blotted the sun out momentarily before smashing into his face.
“What the-” came the angry cry from his mouth as he clamped his teeth hard in order to keep himself from using the profane language that wanted to come out of his mouth. Small tears welted at the corners of his eyes as he bolted up quickly and stared angrily at the fishermen below who had their hands on their hips as if they had been waiting for him. Y’all are jus’ the worst. ‘Ight I got somethin’ special for ya he thought vengefully as he quickly scrambled towards the remaining crates of fish and stacked three of them together before wobbling to the edge of the dingy.
As the crates threatened to fall over because of the improper balance Jack called down impertinently to the bewildered men below, “Oi! Next time don’t throw fish at me and ya won’t hafta deal with this!” he finished. A quick heave set the crates floating into the air in front of him and he could hear as the fishermen sucked in their breaths; their timing was almost in unison which Jack found to be mildly entertaining as he gleaned the action from the safety of the boat. Oddly he enjoyed his time around the fishermen even though they were pigheaded when it came to considering others feelings. Also, he owed them his life now as one of their helping hands since the day that the old man died. Thinking about his late sensei brought a thoughtful look to his face; pain etched itself into his deep hazelnut eyes as anger quickly followed behind the pain. Impulsively his hand curled into a veined fist that shook from the intensity that was behind it, but Jack’s thoughts were interrupted as the first strange incident of the day began.
In the distance there were screams from the market square, a place of piece since most problems came from outside Saint Reia; especially if it was either the Marine or the Rebel army. Sucking his teeth Jack tried to ignore the throng of people rushing away from the square as he instead focused on what was going on with the arguing fishermen below. Unfortunately even their attention had been taken by the sudden ruckus that had originated in the market square and after a quick deliberation the fishermen decided to head in that direction. Exasperated, Jack sat on the edge of the dingy which was loosely tied to the port; he was going to go anywhere near the square now especially since the fishermen leaving meant that he had time to sleep. Leaning back gently the boy closed his eyes to drift into a peaceful sleep.
A cry rang out moments before a tremor shook the lazy freeloader awake. Rubbing the grogginess from his eyes Jack shifted his head slightly so that his dreadlocks wouldn’t obscure his vision. His eyes widened in surprise as an acrid tower of smoke erupted from the square and into the sky.
“Well I’ll be damned” he cursed as he leaped down from the dingy. His Timberland boots landed heavily on the ground and Jack began wishing that he had brought his katana with him for times like these. Clutching his stomach, the reluctant aid went to investigate what would be one of the many events leading to a huge change in his future.
Beads of sweat rolled down the 20 year old’s cheeks, but where the white band covered his forehead a pool of sweat had formed a damp spot on the right side of Jack’s accessory despite his frantic attempt to wipe away the sweat. Screaming women shot past the calm youth with breakneck speed. Finally a toddler wobbled toward him with tear streaks coloring his pulp face; the boy wobbled in many directions in a confused state as he tried to make his way to the caretaker. Chaos unfolded in the once subdued island of Saint Reia and although Jack maintained his calm exterior, he couldn’t help wondering what was causing such a massive upheaval of people at this time of day. His nonchalant walk seemed out of place amongst the throng of fleeing people and then he caught sight of what was causing such havoc in town. A small boy was pressed against the side of a newsstand where he was being circled by men dressed in what looked to be uniforms, but not just any uniforms; they were the uniforms worn by the Rebel army, the supposed saviors of Saint Reia. While Jack had his reservations about the good deeds that Monkey D. Dragon and his minions were up to, he had never seen them behave in such a vulgar manner. Perhaps I should just stay outta the way he pondered as his feet continued to take him to the forefront of the situation.
A quick glance to his sides revealed that these men weren’t only terrorizing people, but they were doing massive amounts of property damage to the buildings in the town and Jack could feel that he was stepping into something over his head. The raucous beats from his headphones began to fade away as he stepped closer to where the boy was being prodded unpleasantly with the butts of the soldiers’ weapons. Jeering at the small boy, the men continued their intimidation game while the thoroughly frightened boy finally gave in to his overwhelming sense of fear and soiled himself. Seeing the boy grab embarrassingly at his pants made some of the men rear the heads back and laugh out loud at the kid’s misfortune. Stopping a few paces from the men, Jack watched the disgusting display of human arrogance with an impassive gaze; this wasn’t something that he hadn’t seen before and he knew it was something that he would see again. The people of Saint Reia in the young man’s opinion had been far too accepting of the Rebel Army when it came regarding them as heroes. Things weren’t terrible under the World Government rule in his opinion, but since he roamed the streets aimlessly most of that time, he probably wasn’t much for understanding what the complaints of the people were from that time period.
Snapping back to reality Jack listened to the strong beats that meshed fluidly with the lyrics that pumped loudly through his headphones, but he didn’t budge a muscle to aid the now red faced boy. One of the men broke from the group and strolled towards the boy with an open hand beckoning him to come towards the man,
“Come ‘ere kid. I got a change of clothes for you waiting in the truck,” he lied invitingly. A small ring of people had now gathered to watch the dismal scene, yet none dared to approach the well equipped men; their assault rifles gleamed as the sunlight struck them from above, truly well polished weapons of destruction. Jack looked and he could see that the citizens were getting angry, but as usual they regarded these men as their heroes too much to step out and say anything. With a sigh, the young man raised his head to enjoy the clarity of the sky when someone put their hand on his hip. Drawing his attention away from the cloud Jack looked down to find a small pink haired girl with her face hidden partially by his pants leg as looked on at the boy’s humiliation. Tears welled in small balls around her eyes while her lip trembled uncontrollably; Jack hated dealing with things like that. Shaking his left leg he shooed her away from himself so that she wouldn’t leave any salty trails upon his uniform, not that it was that important to him, but he didn’t feel like babying anyone. Turning back to the scene, Jack saw that the man had gotten more aggressive with his inviting the boy back to the truck in order to offer him a change of clothes. At the same time, the beat had quickened from his headphones and unwittingly he found himself bouncing slightly to the up tempo beat; he loved listening to music. He always kept his headphones on because they blocked out needless sounds, allowed him to avoid meaningless conversations, and overall just made life easier for him since he didn’t have to walk around listening the miserable people on his island complain about their crappy lives.
With glazed over eyes Jack looked on with unaffected emotions and a clear conscience; he had no connection to this boy and he knew for certain that he was no hero especially when he lacked the motivation to help even himself so why would he bend out of his way to save someone else? Then the image of the old man slumped weakly against the doorway of his house forced an angry twitch onto his face while at the same time a lump formed in his throat. His teacher. His friend. His caretaker. He remembered vividly as the bouncing stopped even though the music went on; it was a memory that always brought him down whenever he thought about it. Suddenly he didn’t feel like bearing witness to this abusive situation, he was tired of the endless motion that everyone seemed to be in a hurry to get into. Left to him, the lazy dark skinned fisherman helper could have simply slept the day away listening to music or playing shougi, but most times people wanted something from him and it irritated him to no end. Jamming his hands into his pockets he turned around to walk out of the now large crowd watching these men intently as if it were some sort of skit. Pausing momentarily he glanced back with a somber expression on his face as a lone dreadlock dangled in his face and whispered in a lone tone,
“Bad luck, kid,” before he continued on his way to leave the area and find himself somewhere to sleep until things calmed down.
Suddenly he felt an impact on his leg and looked down to see the girl soundlessly sobbing at him with her arm gesturing back towards the scene that everyone was staring at. He didn’t want to, but this girl was adamant about him having a look so he turned around and his eyes widened as he bore witness to the man, who had been offering him clothes nicely slammed the boy’s face in with the butt of his rifle. The first few thrusts were simply taps compared to the enraged beating that the man was currently putting on the boy, who now curled into a ball against the wall. From what Jack could read from the man’s lips, he wasn’t only beating the boy physically, but he was using language that no kid at that age should have to bear witness to. Bastard…someone should stop him he thought as his eyes remained locked upon the situation before him. No one made any attempt to stop the horror and Jack looked down with stunned eyes back down towards the girl whose tears rolled freely now. His hands began to get moist as he clenched them so tightly in the wells of his pocket that he thought he was going to bust a blood vessel from the intensity of the sensation. The soldier raised his rifle once more to bring it down viciously upon the boy’s fragile body, but instead he struck the dreadlocked head of one Jack Dancer,
“Yo…” Jack muttered with his hands still tucked away in his pockets as he hunched over the boy protectively. A small stream of blood slipped out from under his white head band and spattered onto the floor by the shocked boy; in truth Jack should have been looking the same way that the boy was looking at him now. He had never meant to get himself involved in such a situation, but his body had chosen to move on its own and now he had gotten into something that he knew would turn into a brawl. Oh well he thought with a cocky smirk towards the soldiers,
“You some punk ass soldiers ya know” he said in a chastising tone, “…pickin’ on a poor boy like this kid,” he continued while shaking his head disapprovingly at the men, who were by now getting visibly angry at the intruder. The circle tightened around Jack, but he never took a step backwards as the lazy young man took the burden of the entire island for a few measly seconds; he became the embodiment of the town’s hero.
“Those clouds look so free…I wish I could simply float away with the world beneath and not care about the troubles that go on between mankind” he wished aloud before a small figure blotted the sun out momentarily before smashing into his face.
“What the-” came the angry cry from his mouth as he clamped his teeth hard in order to keep himself from using the profane language that wanted to come out of his mouth. Small tears welted at the corners of his eyes as he bolted up quickly and stared angrily at the fishermen below who had their hands on their hips as if they had been waiting for him. Y’all are jus’ the worst. ‘Ight I got somethin’ special for ya he thought vengefully as he quickly scrambled towards the remaining crates of fish and stacked three of them together before wobbling to the edge of the dingy.
As the crates threatened to fall over because of the improper balance Jack called down impertinently to the bewildered men below, “Oi! Next time don’t throw fish at me and ya won’t hafta deal with this!” he finished. A quick heave set the crates floating into the air in front of him and he could hear as the fishermen sucked in their breaths; their timing was almost in unison which Jack found to be mildly entertaining as he gleaned the action from the safety of the boat. Oddly he enjoyed his time around the fishermen even though they were pigheaded when it came to considering others feelings. Also, he owed them his life now as one of their helping hands since the day that the old man died. Thinking about his late sensei brought a thoughtful look to his face; pain etched itself into his deep hazelnut eyes as anger quickly followed behind the pain. Impulsively his hand curled into a veined fist that shook from the intensity that was behind it, but Jack’s thoughts were interrupted as the first strange incident of the day began.
In the distance there were screams from the market square, a place of piece since most problems came from outside Saint Reia; especially if it was either the Marine or the Rebel army. Sucking his teeth Jack tried to ignore the throng of people rushing away from the square as he instead focused on what was going on with the arguing fishermen below. Unfortunately even their attention had been taken by the sudden ruckus that had originated in the market square and after a quick deliberation the fishermen decided to head in that direction. Exasperated, Jack sat on the edge of the dingy which was loosely tied to the port; he was going to go anywhere near the square now especially since the fishermen leaving meant that he had time to sleep. Leaning back gently the boy closed his eyes to drift into a peaceful sleep.
A cry rang out moments before a tremor shook the lazy freeloader awake. Rubbing the grogginess from his eyes Jack shifted his head slightly so that his dreadlocks wouldn’t obscure his vision. His eyes widened in surprise as an acrid tower of smoke erupted from the square and into the sky.
“Well I’ll be damned” he cursed as he leaped down from the dingy. His Timberland boots landed heavily on the ground and Jack began wishing that he had brought his katana with him for times like these. Clutching his stomach, the reluctant aid went to investigate what would be one of the many events leading to a huge change in his future.
Beads of sweat rolled down the 20 year old’s cheeks, but where the white band covered his forehead a pool of sweat had formed a damp spot on the right side of Jack’s accessory despite his frantic attempt to wipe away the sweat. Screaming women shot past the calm youth with breakneck speed. Finally a toddler wobbled toward him with tear streaks coloring his pulp face; the boy wobbled in many directions in a confused state as he tried to make his way to the caretaker. Chaos unfolded in the once subdued island of Saint Reia and although Jack maintained his calm exterior, he couldn’t help wondering what was causing such a massive upheaval of people at this time of day. His nonchalant walk seemed out of place amongst the throng of fleeing people and then he caught sight of what was causing such havoc in town. A small boy was pressed against the side of a newsstand where he was being circled by men dressed in what looked to be uniforms, but not just any uniforms; they were the uniforms worn by the Rebel army, the supposed saviors of Saint Reia. While Jack had his reservations about the good deeds that Monkey D. Dragon and his minions were up to, he had never seen them behave in such a vulgar manner. Perhaps I should just stay outta the way he pondered as his feet continued to take him to the forefront of the situation.
A quick glance to his sides revealed that these men weren’t only terrorizing people, but they were doing massive amounts of property damage to the buildings in the town and Jack could feel that he was stepping into something over his head. The raucous beats from his headphones began to fade away as he stepped closer to where the boy was being prodded unpleasantly with the butts of the soldiers’ weapons. Jeering at the small boy, the men continued their intimidation game while the thoroughly frightened boy finally gave in to his overwhelming sense of fear and soiled himself. Seeing the boy grab embarrassingly at his pants made some of the men rear the heads back and laugh out loud at the kid’s misfortune. Stopping a few paces from the men, Jack watched the disgusting display of human arrogance with an impassive gaze; this wasn’t something that he hadn’t seen before and he knew it was something that he would see again. The people of Saint Reia in the young man’s opinion had been far too accepting of the Rebel Army when it came regarding them as heroes. Things weren’t terrible under the World Government rule in his opinion, but since he roamed the streets aimlessly most of that time, he probably wasn’t much for understanding what the complaints of the people were from that time period.
Snapping back to reality Jack listened to the strong beats that meshed fluidly with the lyrics that pumped loudly through his headphones, but he didn’t budge a muscle to aid the now red faced boy. One of the men broke from the group and strolled towards the boy with an open hand beckoning him to come towards the man,
“Come ‘ere kid. I got a change of clothes for you waiting in the truck,” he lied invitingly. A small ring of people had now gathered to watch the dismal scene, yet none dared to approach the well equipped men; their assault rifles gleamed as the sunlight struck them from above, truly well polished weapons of destruction. Jack looked and he could see that the citizens were getting angry, but as usual they regarded these men as their heroes too much to step out and say anything. With a sigh, the young man raised his head to enjoy the clarity of the sky when someone put their hand on his hip. Drawing his attention away from the cloud Jack looked down to find a small pink haired girl with her face hidden partially by his pants leg as looked on at the boy’s humiliation. Tears welled in small balls around her eyes while her lip trembled uncontrollably; Jack hated dealing with things like that. Shaking his left leg he shooed her away from himself so that she wouldn’t leave any salty trails upon his uniform, not that it was that important to him, but he didn’t feel like babying anyone. Turning back to the scene, Jack saw that the man had gotten more aggressive with his inviting the boy back to the truck in order to offer him a change of clothes. At the same time, the beat had quickened from his headphones and unwittingly he found himself bouncing slightly to the up tempo beat; he loved listening to music. He always kept his headphones on because they blocked out needless sounds, allowed him to avoid meaningless conversations, and overall just made life easier for him since he didn’t have to walk around listening the miserable people on his island complain about their crappy lives.
With glazed over eyes Jack looked on with unaffected emotions and a clear conscience; he had no connection to this boy and he knew for certain that he was no hero especially when he lacked the motivation to help even himself so why would he bend out of his way to save someone else? Then the image of the old man slumped weakly against the doorway of his house forced an angry twitch onto his face while at the same time a lump formed in his throat. His teacher. His friend. His caretaker. He remembered vividly as the bouncing stopped even though the music went on; it was a memory that always brought him down whenever he thought about it. Suddenly he didn’t feel like bearing witness to this abusive situation, he was tired of the endless motion that everyone seemed to be in a hurry to get into. Left to him, the lazy dark skinned fisherman helper could have simply slept the day away listening to music or playing shougi, but most times people wanted something from him and it irritated him to no end. Jamming his hands into his pockets he turned around to walk out of the now large crowd watching these men intently as if it were some sort of skit. Pausing momentarily he glanced back with a somber expression on his face as a lone dreadlock dangled in his face and whispered in a lone tone,
“Bad luck, kid,” before he continued on his way to leave the area and find himself somewhere to sleep until things calmed down.
Suddenly he felt an impact on his leg and looked down to see the girl soundlessly sobbing at him with her arm gesturing back towards the scene that everyone was staring at. He didn’t want to, but this girl was adamant about him having a look so he turned around and his eyes widened as he bore witness to the man, who had been offering him clothes nicely slammed the boy’s face in with the butt of his rifle. The first few thrusts were simply taps compared to the enraged beating that the man was currently putting on the boy, who now curled into a ball against the wall. From what Jack could read from the man’s lips, he wasn’t only beating the boy physically, but he was using language that no kid at that age should have to bear witness to. Bastard…someone should stop him he thought as his eyes remained locked upon the situation before him. No one made any attempt to stop the horror and Jack looked down with stunned eyes back down towards the girl whose tears rolled freely now. His hands began to get moist as he clenched them so tightly in the wells of his pocket that he thought he was going to bust a blood vessel from the intensity of the sensation. The soldier raised his rifle once more to bring it down viciously upon the boy’s fragile body, but instead he struck the dreadlocked head of one Jack Dancer,
“Yo…” Jack muttered with his hands still tucked away in his pockets as he hunched over the boy protectively. A small stream of blood slipped out from under his white head band and spattered onto the floor by the shocked boy; in truth Jack should have been looking the same way that the boy was looking at him now. He had never meant to get himself involved in such a situation, but his body had chosen to move on its own and now he had gotten into something that he knew would turn into a brawl. Oh well he thought with a cocky smirk towards the soldiers,
“You some punk ass soldiers ya know” he said in a chastising tone, “…pickin’ on a poor boy like this kid,” he continued while shaking his head disapprovingly at the men, who were by now getting visibly angry at the intruder. The circle tightened around Jack, but he never took a step backwards as the lazy young man took the burden of the entire island for a few measly seconds; he became the embodiment of the town’s hero.