The Journey Begins(Open)

[Doc]

Doc whistled a tune, as he descended away from the cemetary. He had been depressed when visiting his father's grave, but after departing, he slowly started to become his old, boisterous self, hence the tune. He bobbed his head slightly, hands in his pockets, as he walked almost aimlessly, without a care in the world. He approached Fuschia Town, and the people there greeted him with much enthusiasm. He waved, smiling broadly. He'd only been gone a year, and though the people of Fuschia Town knew he was a pirate, they still treated him as they used to when he'd lived there.

"Being sad is thirsty work..." he said, stopping. He looked across the street, and smiled. "Just what I need," he said with a laugh. He promptly walked across the street and into the bar. The first thing he noticed was the familiar roar of conversation and laughter. He was greeted by more of his old neighbors, and his grin widened. "You guys really make me feel at home!" he said, thrusting his arms into the air. One of his father's old friends, Benson, grinned back at him from a nearby stool. "Oi, oi! Come have a drink, you old rouge. It's on me," he waved him over. Still grinning foolishly, Doc sat down next to Benson. Doc looked him over with a practiced eye, noticing how much older Benson seemed since he'd last seen him. He used to be a burly man, with a full head of hair, and a chest as big as a barrel. Now, he seemed as though he had been pricked with a needle and all the air came out of him. His hair was falling out in patches, his chest seemed much smaller, and he'd lost a great deal of weight. Doc couldn't help but pass a comment. "You seem rather worse for wear. You alright, Benny?"

Benson's smile faltered for a moment, and the atmosphere in the bar seemed to change. The noise seemed to die away for a moment, and Doc noticed how Benson's eyes, once strong, and fierce, seemed to belong to someone else. He averted his gaze. "Don't know what you mean kid. Everything's fine..." The noise in the bar continued to ebb, until it was almost dead quiet. "What's wrong? Don't lie to me," Doc pressed. Benson hesitated."Look...we-" He was interrupted by door, which swung open with a bang. At the entrance stood a trio of men, their bulk barring the light from the door. "Is that him?" one of them asked, his voice a deep rumble. Doc looked them up and down, before rounding on Benson, glaring fiercly. Cowed by his gaze, Benson stammered "Look, it's just...we need the money! The town has been having some trouble this past year, and...they promised us a share of the reward if we..." his voiced dropped to a whisper. "Turn over any pirates to them, to take to the Marines..." Doc was silent, as he turned foreward on his bar stool. His face was expressionless, as the three hulking men approached him. "If you come quietly, we won't have to hurt you," one of the men said. He was sporting a large axe, which he brandished with one hand with ease. Another pulled out a curved scimitar, and the last one a spiked hammer. "You already made things bad when you killed one of our partners by the Cemetary. Don't make things worse..." the first man rumbled.

They approached cautiously, as his pistol was visible, jammed into the back of his belt. They could easily make out short sword he had on his left hip, but they failed to notice the dagger like weapon on his right. "So you fellas want to play?" he said in a low voice. "Alright. I'll be your Huckleberry..." he said. He lurched to the side, dodging the swing of the man's hammer, which shattered the stool he was sitting on. He turned the lurch into a dive, avoiding the blow of another of the men, before rolling to get back to his feet. He drew the dagger, and the man with the hammer chuckled. "And what do you plan to do with that?" Doc's face remained unreadable, as he tossed the dagger in the air behind his back with his right hand. With his left, he caught it, and with a quick snap of his wrist, extended it out into a spear. Unlike a regular spear, in addition to the blade at the point, the spearpoint had two blades folded alongside it, so that one was horizontal in each direction, making the spear point look like an upside down T.

Before the men could react, Doc made the leap to the man with the axe. His range and speed caught him off guard, and he was pierced in the neck. He fell down hard, but his comrades didn't even seem to notice. The patrons of the bar began to move back as far as they could. The one's closest to the door bolted, but most remained to watch the spectacle. Doc leveled his spear foreward, and the men spread out farther, trying to encircle him. He watched them carefully, waiting for them to make a move. Now that they were prepared, things would be a bit harder. Fighting indoors with a spear limited its use, especially with the side blades it had. Despite everything, Doc didn't want to hurt the people in the bar. "I guess I could use a bit of help..." he muttered.

(OOC: cue for anybody who wants to join. and refer to my profile to understand what the thug meant about the guy at the cemetary. I'll wait a few days before i make my next post, incase somebody wants to join.)

[metalic]

The man whom the village came to know as Gerard Nova, stood quietly in his upstairs room. It had been two months since he arrived her on a trader's ship, dressed in his casual black suit and red tie. He was a strange man whose landlords knew next to nothing about. He had asked them for a place to stay a while and had informed them that he would pay them a good amount of berri as well for their troubles.

Eating three meals a day had cost Gerard extra, but the cost had meant nothing to him. He was well aware of what the owners said about the strange man who rented their attic. He rarely left his room except to eat and use the restroom. Some believed he was a pirate who was hiding from the marines. Others in town thought the stranger was a madman who would all murder them in the night.

However none of this seemed to hold. The marines had even visited the strange man and had told the owners that he was no harm. The husband of the house couldn't ignore the fact that he noticed the marine's pockets were bulkier then when he had first arrived.

Standing in his room, Gerard had arranged things in a very careful manner. It was important for a man of his work. Dressed in his suit coat he stood in the window, watching the goings on down below. His long black hair was the only thing one might see from looking from behind.

Gerard watched a group of marines walking through town with weapons on their shoulders. It was a strange sight for Fuschia Town. They strolled through the town as if they owned it. Crossing the street Gerard watched them disappear into the bar. "Interesting..." He murmured aloud to himself.

The marines had made it clear to the villagers that if a pirate was found, they were to be turned over to the World Government immediately. Piracy was a serious offense... One punishable by death. It also was a very big opportunity for one such as Gerard.

Having been a pirate himself at once point, Gerard knew just how much a price a pirate might give. Maybe it was finally time he left this silly little room. Strolling over to his bed, Gerard bent down and reached underneath it. Pulling out a black suit case he opened it. Inside the brief case was a silver gas mask.

The gas mask sent a feeling of euphoria up Gerard's spine. Yes... now was the perfect time that he made his appearance. Taking a hold of the mask with both hands he placed it over his face. Breathing with the mask was actually a lot easier then breathing normally. The mask changed the air around him so that he breathed only oxygen into his lungs.

Now that the mask was in place, Gerard walked over to a small chair that sat next to his bed. His black fedora sat there. Taking the hat, he placed it onto his head. All he needed now was.... Eyes roaming the room they landed on a black umbrella stationed on his dresser.

That was the item he needed. Picking up the umbrella and placing it on his shoulder, he walked down the steps as if he there was no difference to him at all. The first person who spotted him was the wife who lived there. She had been preparing dinner and upon seeing him, dropped the pan of water she held in her hands. It spilled onto the floor.

"I'll be back in time for dinner." His voice said through a small speaker in the mask. It was clear the woman was speechless. It was almost as if she was holding back a scream. Umbrella resting on his shoulder he strolled outside. Thankfully the bar was in sight. All though he could not see inside, he could hear the clashing of a fight breaking out.

As he neared the bar he watched a man bolt out of it. "Interesting." He said to himself. Well it was time to get this show on the road. Opening the umbrella he pointed the end of it at the open doorway of the bar.

Clicking on a small trigger in the handle a blue ball the size of a marble shot out of it. It whizzed through the air and collided with the back wall of the bar. As it did a dull sizzling sounded as the ball began to let out a blue gas into the air. Seeing as the bar was an enclosed space the blue gas spread fast.

As the people in the bar breathed the odd blue gas their eyes suddenly began to become heavy. It was quite clear that the gas was beginning to put these people to sleep. Closing the umbrella, Gerard reached inside his black suit jacket and pulled out a short blade one and a half foot long.

He was ready to stab the first person who tried to exit the bar. Mr. Poison, the bounty hunter, had arrived.

[Doc]

Doc eyed the two remaining men, his spear held level. He smiled, cocking an eyebrow. "Well? We gonna dance, or fight?" With a howl of rage, the man with the hammer rushed him, swinging in an arc. Expertly dodging the clumsly blow, Doc pulled back his spear and prepared to swing it until-Thunk! The spear stuck into the side of the bar.

"Huh?" Doc looked down, suprised for a moment, before bashfully looking at the man. "Yeah, it's stuck. If you just gimme a second, I'm sure I can-Whoa!" The man cut him off, swinging his hammer towards his head. Throwing himself backwards, Doc avoided the blow. Doc stood up, dusting himself off. "Well, that wasn't too sporty of you..." The man made another move for him, and Doc quickly drew his short sword. He parried the downward swing of the hammer, staggering under the man's power. Grunting, he drew his pistol from behind him, and fired point blank at the man's stomach. He went down with a cry of pain. Blood gushed from the wound, quickly covering the floor. The blood began to mingle with the blood of his ally, and Doc pointedly looked away.

Panting, Doc stood up straighter, eyeing the man with the scimitar. Jamming his sword into the ground, Doc took his time reloading the pistol, before stashing it back in his belt. "Relax, I won't use it on you. Time for a little swordplay..." he said, approaching the man with the scimitar. They began to slowly circle each other, waiting for the other to make a move. "Shall we Tango?" Doc said with a grin.

Before the man could respond, a projectile flew through the air between them. Instinct told Doc it was a bullet, and he dropped down, trying to make himself a smaller target. He was suprised, however, when the ball began to emit a type of gas. "Well that's interesting. Oi!" he called over to the man, as the people in the bar began to become effected by the gas. "Let's call a truce til we get out of here, alright?" he said. The man nodded, and with a single motion yanked his spear from the bar. He tossed it to Doc, who flipped it down to its normal size. Pulling off his bandana, Doc tied it around his mouth, trying to act as a filter. He could already feel the effects of the gas, as the two men rushed from out of the door of the bar, the man with the scimitar in front

[metalic]

Gerard waited patiently as the smoke began to take effect. He was a patient man who had no trouble with waiting for just the right moment. Seeing as he still had a little time on his hands before anyone charged out, Gerard closed his umbrella and swung it under his arm. It would not be getting in the way for what was going to happen next.

Short blade in hand, Gerard watched as a man with a scimitar exited the building first. Mr. Poison was waiting for him. The shock and fear on the man's eyes was priceless as Gerard's blade sank into his stomach. Taking a step back, the questioning look on the man's face was all the reward that Gerard needed.

Watching him fall to the floor, Gerard watched the next man after him stumble over the dying man and fall to the floor. Leaping like a wild cat, Gerard's blade sank through the man's skull. Rising slowly, Gerard heard the footsteps of another coming out of the bar.

Gerard turned slowly. The first thing someone would most likely see was the silver gas mask that he wore. Of course there was no mistaking the bloodied short blade in his hand. His long black hair and black fedora would most likely be the second thing. And of course there was the odd umbrella that seemed to be out of place in the picture of Mr. Poison.

[Doc]

Doc stumbled outside the bar, in a daze. He blinked several times, trying to clear his eyes of the film that now plagued them. Rubbing at his eyes, short sword still in hand, he stopped dead when he saw the crippled men on the ground before him. His gaze slowly rose, until he was looking face to face with a silvery face. Suprised, Doc took a step back, before realizing that it wasn't the man's face, but a gas mask.

His gaze traveled down the man, and his eyes fell onto the bloodied short sword, naming him the culprit for the dead men before him. A black Fedora sat upon the crown of his head, giving the man the strangest appearance. The extraordinary long black hair made him question whether or not he was a woman, but what took the cake was the umbrella. The man had a black umbrella tucked onto his person. It hadn't rained in days.

Ruefully rubbing his head, Doc gave a laugh. "Man, you really saved me! Those wackjobs were trying to do me in! I owe you one pal!" He said loudly. He began to edge away from the man, intending to head to the docks. He had a small row boat there, that he could use to get to a different island, and now seemed like a good time to use it. As he edged away, he acted like Mr.Poison was a long lost friend that he had to part with too soon.

"I'm tellin' ya, your the man! I'd love to stay and hang out, but I have some really pressing matters to take care of. You know how it is. You take care of yourself now! Don't you forget all the good times we had now. You take it easy!" he said. With the smile still plastered on his face, he turned tail and hauled ass. Talk about a close call! But this guy is bad news, even more so than the other bounty hunters. I better clear out. But why the hell does the dock have to be so far away! he thought frantically.

The bar was located in the center of town, and the dock was on the far side of the town. At a full out run, it would take several minutes to get there. Way too long, if the mysterious man decided to give chase. Trying to ignore that though, Doc ran even faster.

(OOC: the plot thickens =O as a comic relief kinda guy, I think its appropriate for me to run away since ull most likely give chase, we'll have a running battle. should be interesting)

[metalic]

The man who came out next was not the person that Gerard expected to see. He had figured that the pirate was most likely stuck in the bar, still fighting off the marines that had entered. It was a surprise to see him walk straight out.

What was even more interesting was the way he talked. He acted as if he knew exactly who Gerard was. Such a thought was despicable. This was the first time since his arrival that he donned the mask of his work. He often wore it during these sorts of situations of course, but no pirates had made their appearance until today.

Listening to the man, Gerard continued to let him speak. If he really wanted he could have attacked the man, but the pirate was a sneaky one. Watching him thank Gerard as if he were his savior only made Gerard more convinced that this was indeed the pirate.

What sold the question was the man's quick turn and dash towards the docks. It was a move a pirate would surely make. Shaking his head slightly, Gerard placed his blade in its sheath. Placing the umbrella on his shoulder once again, Gerard began the race after the man.

Knowing that he was headed straight for the docks, Gerard thought of the best way to stop the man. Gerard was not the type who simply rushed into battle. He was more of the calculating type. Having lived here for two months, Gerard had enough knowledge of this place to know the best place to catch the man.

Gerard waited until they were out of town, before he opened his umbrella again. He waited until he came within a closer distance of each other before he pulled the trigger of the gun. He did not aim to hit the runner though. No the red ball shot out past the man traveling a good fifteen feet in front of him. Upon landing on the ground a red gas spread through the air.

With the way that the pirate was running it would be extremely hard to stop himself before reaching the gas. And if he did upon breath of it he would begin to feel as if his body had literally just burst into flames.

[Doc]

Doc ran in his rather awkard manner, his upper body leaning backwards, with his hands down and his legs in front. He glanced over his shoulder, and wasn't suprised to see that the man had given chase. He was however, suprised to see that he was keeping up. "Hmmm, not bad, not bad. Got a good pace going!" he called out behind him.

He sheathed his short sword, and his pace picked up a bit more. "Just so you know, theres no way you'll catch me. I'm Doc Holiday, the Red Tiger. No way in hell I'm-Oh my goodness, what's that?!" his eyes bugged out of his head, as Mr. Poison fired a red ball towards him. Instinct made him duck down , and it sailed harmlessly overhead.

"Haha! You missed! You'll never take me-Huh?" He caught sight of the red cloud before him, and he frowned. "Oh, didn't see that coming..." Picking up speed, he tightened the bandana around his mouth, and held his breath as he plowed through the plume of smoke. He kept his eyes tightly shut, as he ran as quickly as possible through.

He burst through on the otherside, still holding his breath and keeping his eyes closed. He held his breath for another 30 seconds, before whipping his bandana from his mouth, and holding it behind him in an attempt to rid it of any gas that may have gotten caught in it. "Ha ha! It's useless if I don't breath it in!" he gasped over his shoulder. His pace slowed slightly, as holding his breath while running near top speed had left him momentarily breathless.

They were nearing the dock, but there were still a few houses on either side ahead. He spotted the Barbershop coming up on his left, and he veered towards it. He almost ran to the door, but thought better of it. Door jams. It always jams, he thought. Without another word, he dove headfirst through one of the small windows. It was a tight fit, but he slid baseball style across the sleek floor.

He lay panting on the floor, as the barber peeked around one of his customers, looking shocked and confused. "What? Doc? What are you doing here?!" Doc staggered to his feet, leaning against one of the chairs. "Can't talk. Gotta run. Backdoor open?" he said between gasps. Still confused, the barber nodded, pointing at the back of the store where a door was slightly ajar.

Hobbling over to it, Doc doubled over, catching his breath. He tied his bandana back on his head, as he watched the other door. As soon as he caught his breath, he would take off again.

[metalic]

Gerard cursed his bad fortune. Most people would have been to busy trying to stop then holding their breath. If he ever caught the pirate, he would have to congratulate the man on his quick thinking. Bur first Gerard had to catch him.

Closing his umbrella caused him to slow down slightly. However once it was closed, Gerard turned his focus on running. Having a body in good condition helped things. He was not as tired as the pirate was when they came to a set of houses. At that point Gerard couldn't help but wonder if perhaps the chase would only stop when they reached the docks.

It seemed though that the pirate had other things in mind. Watching the man dive headfirst through a barbershop window made Gerard second guess his congratulations. The pirate would have been better off with continuing his run to the docks. Seeing that the pirate ran head first into the side window instead of the front door, Gerard made a quick decision and headed to its back.

Unloading his umbrella as he did, he came at a stop before the back door. Not waiting another moment he opened the back door and let another blue ball sail through the air as it collided this time with the barber's forehead leaving a small dent. As it made contact blue gas quickly began slithering through the air.

Why would someone run into an enclosed place when their opponent was shooting poison at them? It was like practically asking someone for a death wish. Spotting the pirate, Gerard didn't wait a moment longer. He ran closing in on the man with his short blade. The smoke of course would make things difficult for the man especially with its sleep like properties.

[Doc]

Doc finally managed to catch his breath, and he heaved a sigh as he straightened up. "Gotta get on a diet. Way outta shape..." he muttered. He was still watching the front door, until he heard the door behind him swing open. Without thinking, he dove foreward, as another blue ball sailed over him and collided with the barber's forehead.

"Leave the civilians out of this!" he said angrily. He immediately fell silent, as the ball began to emit more gas. He held his breath and drew his short sword, swinging it in an arc to give himself room. He backed up, still holding his breath, as an idea came to him. He drew his pistol, and instead of shooting at the man, turned and aimed it at the door frame. He closed one eye for accuracy, and fired once. The bullet ricocheted against the top hinge of the door, knocking it off.

The door hung foreward from the top, and without a moment of thought, Doc threw himself against the door, snapping the bottom hinge as well. Landing hard on the door, Doc grunted, as he pulled himself up. He finally exhaled, trotting away as the smoke billowed out behind him. He'd made sure not to inhale within range of the gas.

He began to pick up speed, as he knew the man wouldn't give up so easily. As he ran, he reloaded his pistol again for further use. As they approached the docks, Doc made out his small rowboat tied down to one of the poles near the water. He panted, as he reached his boat. Without a moment to lose, he aimed his pistol point blank at the rope, and fired. The rope snapped cleanly, and the boat began to float with the waves. Putting one foot on the boat, he used his other to push himself farther away from the docks. He sat down rather unceremoniously, chest heaving, awaiting the man's approach.

He reloaded his pistol again for the third time in so many minutes, resting it on his knees. Wonder if I could hit him in the legs, he thought. He decided against shooting from so far away. If the man drew closer, he'd open fire. To speed his escape, he grabbed his ours and began to row out with the tide

[metalic]

Guns.... Retched items that caused him way to much harm at way to little cost for the opponent. In all honesty Gerard couldn't full out bash guns because of the fact that his umbrella was basically that. Perhaps it was better to think bullets were the problem... not guns.

When the pirate brought out the pistol and fired at the door, Gerard paused. Whenever bullets were involved he ended up getting hurt way more then he wanted too. For that reason he was cautious, keeping to the dense areas of the gas while traveling in the barber shop.

Spotting the pirate as he rushed out of the door he shot off the hinges, Gerard began to chase after him. It seemed his gas hadn't done much to stop the man. He needed some way to trap him.

As he sprinted out of the shop, he spotted the pirate by the docks. This was just what Gerard hoped for. There was no large ship. No backup crew to make things more of a hassle. Just a simply row boat.

Making sure not to get in sight of the pirate, Gerard fell to the floor as he opened his umbrella yet again. He had the perfect plan. Taking aim he fired. His umbrella had alot more fire power then just a simple pistol. However predicting that the pirate would hear and most likely see Gerard, after the red ball flew through the air, Gerard pulled the top down and began rolling to the right. All he needed to hear was the clunk of the ball he shot hitting its mark inside the pirate's row boat.

[Doc]

Doc was so busy rowing, that he almost didn't see the man come out of the barbershop. "Well blow me down, this guy is persistant..." he muttered. He increased the speed of his rowing, until there were several boat lengths between his boat and the docks. At this rate, there was no way the man could stop him.

Although he wasn't quite home free yet, Doc began to laugh. The laugh died when he saw a red ball sailing towards him. "Oh come on..." he muttered. The ball landed in the middle of the boat with a thunk. Holding his breath again, Doc quickly reached down, grabbed the ball, and promptly threw it overboard. That stopped the ball from emitting anymore of the gas. And as for the gas still there...

Doc stood up in the boat, removing one of the oars from its bracket. He held it above his head, and began to spin it in a circle, causing a small fan like wind to slowly dissapate the gas. After thirty seconds of spinning, he sat down and finally breathed. "What a persistant man. Bounty on my head can't be that high..." he muttered.

Placing the oar back in the bracket he continued to row out to sea. "Oi, oi! Mr. Bounty Hunter! As much fun as we've had, I got to go! I'm Doc Holiday, the Red Tiger! Remember that!" he yelled. He laughed triumphantly into the sky, as he continued to row farther and farther away. When he was certain he was out of range of the bounty hunter's poisonous assaults, he heaved a sigh of relief. "Geez, talk about a wackjob..." he muttered.

He reached down below him, rummaging around amongst the debris in the bottom of the ship, tossing scraps of cloth and empty bottles, until he found what he was looking for: a half empty bottle of rum. "Aha! There you are gorgeous," he said with a grin. He pulled out the cork, and took a generous swig. "Ah, that's the good stuff..." he muttered, leaning backwards in the boat. The tide began to carry him away, and he relaxed, safe for the moment.

"Heh heh. Too smooth," he said, chuckling. He took another swig, before crossing his legs and staring out over the edge of the boat. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..." he sang softly, as he drifted out to sea.

[EXIT]