[Saga] I Know That Ugly Mug

Tue Aug 27, 2019 8:58 pm

Chui's Fate

Quest Details:

Layers upon layers of stories, stacked atop each other signified the calling card that separated noble folk houses from that of the average citizen on Kano. All across the nation, similar architecture could be seen, and one rule of thumb remained the same, the more grandiose the building's design and height, the richer its inhabitants. The Kano Navy divided the island into five parishes, each held a warrior who was trained to lead from birth. Hasshoken, political skills, proper etiquette and leadership were instilled to bring glory to their ancestors name - Happo.

The largest of the five - Chui acted as the port city. Any party that wished to enter into the nation legally had to pass through it, and it'd been known to locals as the hideout for pirates, criminals and lowlifes alike. For the right price or favour, any vessel was granted entrance really. However, mysteriously so, five days ago drifting aimlessly into Chui's port, a massive Full Rigged Ship appeared, seemingly empty.

All it's rooms locked from the inside, carcasses of several humans scattered across the deck, and blood stained weapons wedged into the vessel's smooth hardwood flooring. What really freaked out the port staff were two factors. One, the flag that the ship flew and two, the bleached Sea King like skeletal fixtures that were used to create this morbid monstrosity. Storming the vessel, all the soldiers discovered were more bodies and empty pantries. The 'rodents' aboard had already scurried off elsewhere in the meantime.

Chui - Shouichun District

A dingy fishing market area, most of the rural workers of Chui spent their days slaving away to make rent for the Parishes' Lord. As time passed, once known as the most prosperous district, the migration of the wealthy uptown, away from the port erased that fact from Shouichun. In it's wake, pubs and loan shark houses appeared, turning the once flora heavy countryside to nothing more than an industrialized dump in the south.

Covered in a dingy brown hooded cloak, the stranger wandered the street, resting his Nodachi on his shoulder as he trod. Rats and children played hand in hand on every street, as merchants sat gawking at any strange face to the area for their next sale. Bumping into the man, the child hit the floor in the most theatrical manner. Quickly rising to his feet to apologize, bowing several times before diverting his gaze and dashing off.

In one swift motion, Castor extended his Nodachi's grip toward's the child's raggedy top, sliding it in between the crevices of his shirt's hind side. Lifting the child upwards into the air, watching him squirm like an unearthed worm, he'd flick back his hood, revealing his three obscure obsidian eyes. Smirking confidently, "I believe you have something of mine."Castor declared. Too uneducated to even form words, the man's question was interrupted by a soaring projectile in that of a stone.

"Put Tensen down weirdo."the loud teenager howled, emerging from one of the nearby alleyways on the street's strip. Catching the stone upon arrival, Castor would then toss the tennis sized rock in his hand casually. Almost like clockwork, the children of the slums, a dozen in number, surrounded Castor. The child hoisted up in the air on his blade's grip began to bawl.

"First you steal my purse. Then your friends bark orders at me. You've got ballsy friends little one and skill yourself... If it wasn't for my radio... I wouldn't have been any wiser."Castor declared, peering at the elevated youth.

Turning his attention towards the leader of this band of theives, "How old are you lot?" Castor inquired, changing his former playful tone to a more serious one.

"That has nothing to do with you oldman- "the stone thrower shouted, however, his sentence was met with an abrupt tragedy.

Tossing the stone towards who appeared to be the oldest in the group, the force of the stone crushed the boy's face like a sledgehammer to concrete. As the boy's body hit the ground, the other armed children eyes expanded astonished. Brimming with fear, none of them moved until Castor's next question.

"Again. How old are you lot?" Castor inquired. Each of them immediately answered, ages ranging from 13 to 19, the leader being in latter half. "And the boy I just murdered?" Castor inquired turning his gaze directly towards the Captain Thief. Gulping heavily before he spoke, "17."

Sighing in relief, "Ah. Fortunate. If he was a year younger that would have messed up my drink later. Look. I don't mind you doing what needs to be done to survive... but if your going to be a criminal recall this feeling well. Anytime you feel something similar... Pick another target and run. It's same feeling I felt at ten."Castor explained, shrugging nonchalantly at his own words. Using his Haoshoku Haki lightly, Castor pressured the teenage marauders, bringing them to their knees, many lost consciousness. Tossing the youngest child from his blades hilt towards the bent leader, the man began to walk once more. Urine trickled down the child's underclothes in Castor's passing, too afraid to even shed a tear.

"Now. To find a drink... I'll drink seventeen glasses in his memory." Castor murmured to himself.

Word Count: 869 | Tagged: @Brood @Wren

Notes: Part I

Sat Aug 31, 2019 7:42 pm

❝

WHO'S READY

FOR CHIBI WREN?

BLACKBELL A. WREN

The overzealous sun beat down upon the heads of the fishermen working diligently in the market. Amid their ranks, a toddler scampered between their legs, dodging heavy boots and surprised exclaims. The toddler’s face was red with excitement and heat, completely disregarding the hindrances she caused to the men hard at work. Her silver straight cut hair bobbed in the placid breeze, as her hazel eyes shone with wanderlust.

Suddenly, a hand came down from the sky and snatched up the child. She let out a squeal as shrill as a mouse, flailing her short, chubby arms to no avail.

“Brute! Unhand me!” she screamed, vigorously kicking and punching into thin air.

As the man swung his embarrassed capture around to dangle before him, she narrowed her wide eyes into a teary glower. He was a short man with a reddish-brown beard, unkempt and untamed as the sea, and he possessed the rugged demeanor that was almost like a uniform for all fishermen on the market.

“Where your parents, kiddo?” he asked gruffly, staring beadily down at the child. “Kid like you is only gettin’ in the way of all us hardworkin’ men.”

“I’m not a kid!” wailed the toddler, the inadvertent tears falling down her cheeks only contradicting her words further. “I’m older than I look!”

The fisherman only observed the child expressionlessly, clearly doubting her words. Despite the older man’s completely apt and reasonable disbelief, the toddler was absolutely telling the truth. The girl was a pirate with a debatable critical role in the Primetime Pirate crew and an individual with the unique ability to manipulate her hormones.

The girl, Wren, often changed her appearance for sheer indulgence, though today, she had woken up in a form taking her body back approximately ten years. It was always her greatest delight when she rose out of bed in a form completely different to the one she had tucked herself in. However, despite the skeptical truth backing her words, it would likewise be a complete lie to suggest she didn’t have a guardian.

As soon as the ship had docked that morning, Wren had insisted her captain accompanied her as she explored the country. And yet, as soon as they disembarked the ship, she dashed off in frenzied excitement and entirely abandoned her would-be caretaker.

“Look, kid, just get out of the way,” said the fisherman in response and quickly subsequent to these words, he proceeded to pitch the lamenting toddler across the street where she landed in a pile of nonplussed perturbation.

After a moment of daze, Wren leapt to her feet and raised both her fists up, as though ready to act out the transparent rage written across her face. However, the sound of a nearby commotion happened to reach her inquisitive ears and her attention immediately shifted to a group of delinquents surrounding a taller, cloaked figure. Fascinated by the possibility of a scene worth her while, Wren scampered closer in hopes of a better view.

Yet the closer she got, the harder it was for her to peer through the legs of bypassers and in her frustration, she opted to scale up one of the creaky stalls lining the market. No one seemed to notice or care as the child disappeared up a wooden beam (if anything, they were relieved the bizarre child was finally out of the way), and Wren happily discovered a suitable seat to observe the ensuing drama.

She watched with enraptured attention, completely engrossed as the cloaked figure hurled a sizable stone and crushed one of the youths in one fell swoop. Gasping, her eyes widened as the fatality took a meretricious tumble and her tiny hands leapt to her mouth. Wren didn’t realise she was slowly inching forward; she was figuratively sitting on the edge of her seat.

Her ears pricked at the words of the mysterious individual's soliloquy, but in her efforts to get closer, she made a foul mistake. As the teenagers all dropped to their knees by the power of the stranger’s haki, her hand slipped simultaneously and Wren was given only a second before she was forced to react.

Scrabbling and thrashing her limbs midair, Wren let out a shrill cry. She made a clumsy windmill motion with her arms, as though to flail through the intangible tides, and her fingers brushed against the edge of the stall, but too late: she plummeted straight down like a hammer and landed directly dead-centre in the murderous stranger’s path.

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USED 0 TECHNIQUES | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI:

0 TECHNIQUES ACTIVE | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI ACTIVE:

0 TECHNIQUES COOLING DOWN | 0 HAKI COOLING DOWN:

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BY RIMY :hearts: OF BTN

Wed Sep 11, 2019 12:15 am

OOC: (-eh is a cough; -ee is a weeze)

Overprotective would be an understatement when it came to describing the relationship between Brood and his beloved daughter-figure, Wren. He wanted to protect and nurture her into the absolute worst individual to ever live. She brought him a level of pure bliss that was only matched by his new flings Jericho and Ringring's affection and...well...the memory of the crew that he lost. Brood had to learn moderation the hard way, and his new crew-mates were...nothing if not completely unhinged.

This realization of her importance proved to be his greatest weakness. She was the only original member of his crew that was left alive. For that reason and that reason alone, he found himself wanting nothing more than to keep her alive and well. For that reason, he stalked her on their little adventure to this island...since he had finished his objective long ago and figured that she would end up getting into trouble...yet again. The man was often paranoid, but with Wren it was justified.

Watching her get manhandled, he had to wait. He could save her if he had too, but he figured that she would find a way out of the situation. The moment that she seemingly managed to do such a thing. Maneuvering herself in such a way that she was capable of getting as far away from that so called, fisherman. He probably had grandkids or something in his life that made him think it was okay to handle a child so roughly. In a way, Brood could understand where he was coming from.

But the moment that Wren had removed herself from Earshot, he noted her direction and then vanished from atop the roof in which he found himself observing. In a mere moment he was standing before the fisherman that had manhandled his beloved crew member. He had one hand behind his back holding his candy-cane staff, while the other hand seemingly reached up and grasped the older male by the throat. Hoisting the gentleman into the air for a moment before the pair disappeared.

Standing atop a new perch, he looked down over Fisherman whom were far to weak to see his unique speed blitz. He'd peer over towards the various Fisherman whom now were curious as to where their compatriot had gone. It was sad really, but as the male struggled against the grip of Brood, the repeated hits to his face finally caught his attention. The punches were, of course, far too weak to do any damage what-so-ever to Brood. But his attention was gained, and that was a small victory.

Brood craned his head to the left for a moment...and then back to the right. In a moment veins grew in Brood's psychotically focused eyes. With a twist of his wrist he immediately crushed the larynx of this older man before tossing the body behind himself like a sack of potatoes. Paying no mind to the life that he snuffed out with ease. Instead, his attention was split between his ward...and another man whom seemingly was doling out his own unique of justice. It was a...familiar individual.

Brood peered at the man and....he exclaimed to himself softly, with sugar cascading out of both sides of his face like drool. "I know that ugly mug." In a moment he vanished and appeared between both Wren and this man, this supernova. Castor O. Nox. That fucking slaver piece of shit. A nice piece of shit, but a piece of shit never the less. Brood hated slavers, usually, but Castor wasn't your average slaver. Something about the man made him more...tolerable. He didn't know what it was, however.

He peered from the corner of his eye over towards the man, gritting his teeth for a moment before speaking. "Wren, stop fucking around." He was still drooling out of the sides of his mouth. A side effect of his fruit. He turned to face Castor, but had no veins in his forehead. Showcasing that he wasn't here to fight the man. Instead, Brood did what he often did when it came to individuals that he found to be strong. Treated them like people. "Ah, Sanpaku. You still alive?"

The male threw his other hand out towards Wren so she would fly over and land on his shoulder safely. At the same time that he threw his hand back however, small glass pellets similar to bullets flew out of his body with an extremely strange amount of accuracy. Striking each and every one of the youths in a non-vital area, but causing them to flee the area in a panic as they bleed profusely. Brood never took his eyes off the lightning boy, however. "Bullying children now, Slaver?" He smirked. "Wren, you need to be careful until we get out back to Paradise. I don't need a rep in the West Blue just yet." He told her while looking at Castor nonchalantly.

But it took literally a single second to show that Brood was no better than Castor when it came to his statement. "You should have cut off his arm so he could grow hateful and come back one day to fight you at his strongest. Breed the next generation through pain and violence...and then break them to assert your dominance. Such a waste of life. Don't you think, Wren?" He stated calmly as he turned his body fully to face Sanpaku. "What brings you here?" Brood was here to supply and get the fuck out of the West Blue.

sucré @ gs

Wed Sep 11, 2019 3:18 am

Chui's Fate

Honan District | Ten Hours Ago in Chui

Goro borororo...

Within a five story palace overlooking the district of Honan, at it's very peak lied a former hermit. A man who was once revered among his religious peers as the second coming of holiness. However, one day, strangely, the Monk who had spent most of his youth in meditation, suddenly abandoned his faith for the material world. Like an infant, a sensational hunger began to bubble in his gut, for everything his previous life prohibited. Alcohol, drugs, women and power, all things that came normally to those who were members of the Nations proud Happo Navy.

Joining their ranks in his adult years, the mature gentleman picked up the ways of Hasshoken quite easily. Besting youth, elderly and even those in between, bolstering his name and earning him his spot as Commander of Chui. What set the man apart wasn't his odd choice in optic wear, nor his love for colors of the darker variety, it was two things, his love of modern clothing and his unique laugh that filled the halls of Honan Manner.

This man's name was Fouchu, or Minister Chu, as many would affectionately call him. Veiled behind transparent fabric, the man sat on his throne, running through the surrounding areas which had yet to pay their taxes. With his assistant, Biyu, who was extremely through in filing, down to the last cent. She was meticulous, each and everytime this process came around, as she'd grown over the years to know the kind of man Chu was. Once again, a familiar delinquent's name presented itself before the man once again.

Goro borororo...

"Shouichun again? This is the third year they're late in submitting taxes." Chu declared, commanding his chamber maidens to fan faster to alleviate the uncomfortable summer heat.

"Yes Minister. The other leaders have been complaining about this fact as well." Biyu chimed in.

"How many days pass the date are they?" Chu inquired.

"As of today, 102 days - 15 hours and 22 Seconds, Minister." Biyu retorted.

Scratching his head, "Of all of Chui's Districts... This one is the only failing industry. Cotton, Corn, Silk, Milk... Chui's known to even collect taxes from even the most immoral of industries. Yet. Here we are... at the end of an era. The once mighty Shouichun has become an old race horse. Do you know what becomes of them, Biyu?"Minister Chu inquired.

"My grandfather was a stud farmer... Of course. Their heads are lopped off to ensure no pain is felt in their last days." Biyu concluded, adjusting her glasses.

"If I waste anymore time... I'll loose honour. Send the Navy to Shouichun... Let that no good brother of mine lead the charge. Burn it to the ground. Spare only the women and children. No need for the elderly either. The survivors can be auction off here in Honan. The brats can be sent to the mines. I, Fouchu, hereby declare Shouichun as a lawless state." Chu declared.

"What a heartless man... Shouichun was his parents hometown. Yet, he feels no remorse. The evils men would condone just to save face." Biyu thought to herself.

The news of Shouichun's fate was suppressed by the inner court of Chui. They didn't want any survivors fleeing to neighbouring districts, as Chui had many. Occurrences like this weren't quite uncommon either, especially in an industrial Parish such as this one. The march from Honan to Shouichun was only twelve hours by foot and ten bare minimums by horse. Rounding up the army, Fouchu's brother, another high-ranking member of the Happo Navy was mobilised.

Before Castor could continue on his path to the local pub, planting herself directly in front him was a strangely familiar looking Tontatta. Stooping down, the Three Eye's gaze from beneath the hood would intimidate most, however, no ill will was meant by it, Castor just couldn't seem to pin the face.

Dressed in a white trouser, loosely fitting, the silver haired bob cut pipsqueak was ringing alot of bells but not cashing alot of registers in Nox's mind. He'd admit defeat, as generally, he was terrible with faces, opting to give the woman a nickname instead, with his terrible dry humor.

"Cotton ball... No... She's too big to be called that. Hmm... Chihuahua... No... She's not that big. Biggie Fuzz... Fluffy... Ah. That's not it. I'll go with Snow Flake." Castor rationalized out loud, hoping to get a laugh out of the Tontatta. Abruptly, his fun was brought to an end as the image of black leather boots with golden laces came into his peripheral view. Returning to a standing position, giving his full attention to the Supernova, Castor grinned, removing his hood.

"I know that ugly mug anywhere." Castor thought.

"Looks like you made it out of that hell hole - Las Camp alive, Tooth-Decay." Castor responded. Listening carefully to the man's words, paying attention to his body language, from what Castor had seen prior, Brood was the type to go from zero to a hundred in one gear. Referring to him as a Slaver didn't bother him too much, Castor just pouted his cheeks full with air at the comment.

"Look. I know how that whole ship operated by slaves scene appeared... but all of those slaves... who made it out alive anyway... I set them free and paid them handsomely. I even got into a big scuffle with my Vice Captain over that. So, if you're going to call me a Slaver... Hmm... Call me a bad one at that." Castor stated, loosing his point midsentence."You try running a ship that big with two drunks." Castor whined, alluding to Newport and Dax. A blank expression flushed over his face as the man concluded that crippling the child would have been better than killing him. Turning to the Tontatta, who now sat atop Brood's shoulder, Castor would shoot a military salute towards her.

"I guess we both have troublesome crewmates, Snowflake." Castor declared, as a single tear trickled down his eye. Abandoning his nonchalant mood for a more serious expression, the Pirate Captain finally responded to Brood's question. "After I escaped Las Camp... The slavers who I stole from attacked us. I fought them off of course, but that whole ordeal depleted my supplies... Kano was the next stop on my Log Pose."Castor stated."Now. I'm going for a drink. Care to join me?Or is sugar the only thing you can handle?" Castor taunted.

One hour remaining before the Happo Navy's arrival.

Word Count: 1065 | Tagged: @Brood @Wren

Notes: Part I

Tue Oct 01, 2019 5:00 am

❝

THAT'S RIGHT

I'M TALKING TO YOU.

BLACKBELL A. WREN

“Ew...I got mud on my clothes…” complained Wren mournfully.

She appeared more concerned with the glaringly obvious smudge of brown smeared across her trousers than the “dangerous” stranger advancing upon her. Struggling onto her feet, Wren kicked a wave of muck off her boots before proceeding to trudge laboriously out of the muddy puddle she had inadvertently found herself in.

The entire scene that had previously enraptured her attention had all but flown from her mind until the stranger addressed her. Glancing up from her ordeal, Wren studied the young man before her, but with the bright sky against his back and the shadowed hood concealing his features, she failed to recognise him.

Yet, his easygoing tone and his nonchalant attitude seemed familiar and Wren’s expression immediately broke into a charming grin. Her silver tail with its tip dipped in mud, bristled playfully and she unthinkingly flung another wave of mud away from her body.

“You’re weird, but I like you!” she declared boldly as a smidge of mud splashed onto the tip of her nose, which she wriggled delightfully.

She reached her chubby fingers up in a motion as children might to request to be picked up. However, before she could grab the stranger as she’d intended, there was a rush of wind and Wren squealed, squeezing her eyes shut as her silver bob was buffeted by the sudden arrival of her captain.

As the gust gradually calmed, she peeked cautiously through her thick lashes and her eyes widened with delight to find Brood standing with his back to her.

“Cap’n!” she chirped excitedly and her mechanical wings immediately sprang open.

It was almost like a reflex and though her wings weren’t made to carry the weight of a human, her toddler form was light enough to bear the burden for a short period; long enough to drift her up onto the sugary giant’s shoulders. As she nestled into her usual throne, she immediately wrapped her portly arms affectionately around her captain and father figure’s head.

“I’m so glad to see you!” she exclaimed. “Listen, listen! This guy can use the same haki as you! I saw it myself!”

The base of her tail slapped feverishly against Brood’s back, its silver tip flicking sporadically up in reflection of her animated elation. As the two Supernovas faced each other, Wren rested her arms against the top of Brood’s white hair, nuzzling her cheeks into the nest created by her arms.

With her higher vantage point now acquired, Wren mused as she studied the stranger in a new light and noticed a third eye protruding from his forehead.

“Ah! I remember you!” she exclaimed suddenly, recalling another man, one laden almost entirely in gold from their previous adventure. “You're Dax’s cap’n! That explains your haki! What was your name again…?”

She took a moment to reminisce the hectic horseplay the two pirates had rampaged upon the marines in Las Camp before drawing her attention back to the present. Giggling at Brood’s words, Wren’s tail swept around and up onto Brood’s shoulder, where it persisted to twitch restlessly beside her.

“Sorry, cap’n, I was just bored! At least I haven’t killed anyone...yet,” she accompanied her ominous words with a cheeky grin holding a seraphic charm resembling a cherub. “I think you should have killed all his friends too! Pain and violence in the heart is just as destructive, after all~”

She lifted her face slightly, resting her chin into her palm with her other arm dangling off the other side of Brood’s face. Her current, snug position might have been comfortable for the young tontatta, but the same couldn’t be said for Brood, who might have been unaccustomed to the additional weight and was forced to domicile and adjust to her constant wiggling and fidgeting.

While her incessant, minuscule activity never seemed to pose a problem when she was in her original tontatta form, now that she was much larger (a healthily plump toddler-sized human), her tail seemed to struggle to find space on her usual throne and constantly swept up and down the back of his shoulders.

Yet, Wren appeared entirely unbothered by the atypically tightness of her perch and in fact seemed to enjoy the unfamiliar seat. At the mention of “troublesome crewmates”, Wren’s ears perked and she brightened. She seemed to enjoy the ring of a new nickname and her tail flapped excitedly; the familiarity of the other Supernova’s attitude was quickly warming to her.

“I wanna go for a drink!” she said and fumbled to draw Brood’s attention to her. “Can we go, cap’n? Please?”

BY RIMY :hearts: OF BTN

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0 TECHNIQUES ACTIVE | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI ACTIVE:

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Wed Oct 09, 2019 12:33 pm

Life would rush back into the young swordsman as he awoke from his sleep. It was accompanied by the usual body pains and groans you would get by daily training. The swordsman would quickly shake his hair around to get the bed head out, and quickly got up to walk onto the deck. He was still on Kano after the whole ordeal of slaughtering that town, and while he didn't hate the island he also wasn't particularly fond of it either. It was mostly like a vexatious relationship the two had. Plagued by the need to piss, Yanjiro would look around to see if anyone was watching. He would gander at his surroundings and after hoping that if someone was checking him out, they would at least avert their eyes at this moment he would unzip and begin emptying his bladder. After around 15 seconds Yanjiro would hear a whistle, and not a high pitched, screeching whistle. A whistle that usually came out of the mouth by someone who found or saw something attractive. Looking down, Yanjiro would see an older woman gazing up at him. This woman, on the other hand, seemed to look like a man with a bit of stubble and a solid defined chin.

[Saga] I Know That Ugly Mug 15NfQ4v

"Nice package you got there handsome!"

The....thing, would exclaim to Yanjiro. Yanjiro at this point didn't know whether to kill the person or to kill himself. He wanted to lay low for a bit so he could have some peace of mind for however long his crew was going to be on the island, so he would hold off on the mindless killing. But Yanjiro couldn't help but be disgusted by being peeped on. He would quickly zip up his pants and would grab his coat and would make his way into town. The place where he conducted his vile acts seemed to be a remote location to this current place, so hopefully, word wouldn't get out about Yanjiro too quick. He would make his way down the dock, decrepit and coming apart at the seams the docks screamed for the sweet release of death every step Yanjiro took. Yanjiro himself feared the dock just randomly falling apart and falling into the sea. He didn't have a pair of clothes to change into yet, so the ones he had on now was all he had.

Yanjiro just got back to good health after meeting his captain and settling down in his ship. Yanjiro lost the scrap that hid his third eye and also lost one of his swords. He didn't feel like hiding his eye anymore so he would only be going out for another sword. Making his way into the dastardly town, probably filled the brim with the stench of struggle and trying to make ends meet, Yanjiro would make his way passed merchants. Their stalls filled with random goods from emphatically created knickknacks, to brazen books about things that shouldn't be sold in broad daylight. They didn't reach out to Yanjiro, probably because of his third eye. Which didn't bother him, as he didn't want or have the need to conduct in converse with them.

But after walking a bit, he would find himself being passed by a kid bleeding from around his collarbone area. While Yanjiro didn't know or care what happened to him, he was more interested in who caused this. Yanjiro had maybe an inkling on who it could be, but he didn't have enough evidence to point a finger at them. But his question would answer itself when he came up to the scene of his captain talking to a...fellow three-eyed individual. This was a rare sight to Yanjiro, never before had he seen someone else with a third eye. This meant that Yanjiro wasn't a freak but apart of a different race of humanoids? Yanjiro just thought he got the third eye from his mother's genetics and was just a human with a different edge to himself. While Yanjiro was quite excited that he wasn't the only person with a third eye he also put caution to the person his captain was talking to. If they annoyed him and he couldn't just outright kill them then that person was also a problem.

Yanjiro would walk by the three-eyed man and would make his way to his captain's side. The man seemed to have a coat on, did it serve the same function that Yanjiro's scarf used to, hide his eye? Also on the scene was the girl that Yanjiro enjoyed picking on from time to time now.

[Saga] I Know That Ugly Mug XBhQs5K

"Are you causing problems? I have seen how you can get sometimes Captain....Also, I see you're still gaining weight squirt, are we going to have to put you on a diet?"

A smirk would grace Yanjiro's face, a rare occurrence indeed. He enjoyed annoying his crewmate, maybe as a brother does to their sister. Back to the situation at hand though, who was this person Brood was talking too? They seemed to have some sort of history but whether that be good or bad Yanjiro would have to ask later. Yanjiro didn't really care who his captain killed, or how he killed them as Yanjiro's big deal was whether or not they were worth to be killed or not.

Wed Nov 06, 2019 12:40 pm

OOC: (-eh is a cough; -ee is a weeze)

How fucking obnoxious. Sanpaku was already annoying enough as it was, but now he had to deal with an excited Wren on top of that? Was his mind going to melt into ooze? Likely, but things seemed to only get better and better as time wore on. Seemingly out of nowhere the Sword Prince found himself cornering the market on being unbearable. Why did Brood even bother having people around him if they just brought his brain to the brink of complete and total annihilation? He couldn't quite say, but what he did know at the very least was that a stiff drink would be enough to make this day far more tolerable and his crew far more bearable. Looking towards Wren he narrowed his eyes instinctively.

He'd hawk up a large wad of sugary spit and would lob it out of his mouth towards a wall, onlookers capable of watching the glistening paste slowly trickle down the side of the brick constructs. A clearing of the throat allowed the man to speak unhindered, without the need to drool all over himself. "Fine, we will join you for a drink. Besides, after what happened in Las Camp, it's best that we all get a breather before heading back into Paradise." He sounded reasonable, which was starting to become Brood's role on his crew the more and more he invited less than rational individuals into the fold. "I'm not causing any problems quite yet, Yan-san. Right now, we are going to get a drink and relax before heading off."

He explained this despite him knowing that Yanjiro was smart enough to pick up the signals needed to know that they were about to head back out to sea. He never once took his eyes off his adopted daughter-figure however. With a slight grimace appearing over his battle-weary face, he spoke to her as well. "Just be on your best behavior, Yan-san here has already attracted far too much attention for my liking." Not that he was scared, but given that there were still powerful marines located in these blues somewhere...as well as powerful pirates...he didn't want to get into any long battles until he was able to completely restore the crew that he had lost. Roaming the seas with their corpses was starting to get a little off-putting.

While one would have thought Brood above childish naming insults, they would be overwhelmingly mistaken. He had heard the challenge to his manhood, saying that sugar was the only thing that he could handle and not alcohol, but he didn't seem to have any outward reaction to it. Verbally however, the man moved his tongue like a well balanced blade. "Eh, I hope you don't short circuit once the rum starts flowing, Sanpaku." Brood cracked a smile not caused through violence for what seemed like the first time in a long time. Lifting his hand upwards, he would motion for his crew to follow him...and in due time. The entire lot of them would traverse to the entrance of the pub itself. Brood made himself inside first.

He had pushed past some patrons, moving over towards the bar and leaning in as though he was some sort of school-yard thug. Head cocked to the side in a menace as he ordered Rum for everyone in the establishment, as if he had money to burn. Peering over towards Sanpaku, he rolled his arm for a moment and looked over towards the rest of his own crew. "So where is the rest of your crew anyway? I usually do not -ee- let these chucklefucks out of my sight. Eh." He stated as he struggled to speak, as per usual. He'd bare his fangs over at Yanjiro briefly. "We've been here a few hours, maybe a day or two now? I heard there is a treasure on an island here in the West Blue, might go get it before heading back to paradise. What about you, Sanpaku?"

He posed the question but immediately began speaking to the other two, clearly not the kind of Captain to alienate his own crew-mates in a conversation. "I think a nearby island has a blacksmith that might know where we can get some proper rare whetstone for you to use Yanjiro. We will need to look into that. And we still need to find that fucking Slave ship that we chased here in the first place Wren. Did you have any luck on figuring that out?" He spoke business in front of this rival captain because he didn't care if people knew what he was planning to do or not. It was the very nature of Brood to tempt the gods of fate. If anyone ever tried to impede his plans, they'd have to show him that they were that n**ga.

COMBAT TRACKERS:

PLAYER STATS:

PLAYER RATIOS:

USED 0 TECHNIQUES | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI:

0 TECHNIQUES ACTIVE | 0 TOGGLES | 0 HAKI ACTIVE:

0 TECHNIQUES COOLING DOWN | 0 HAKI COOLING DOWN:

CREW COMPANION STATS:

CREW COMPANION RATIOS:

CREW COMPANION TECHNIQUES USED:

OPPONENT STATS:

OPPONENT RATIOS:

OPPONENT TECHNIQUES USED:

sucré @ gs

Thu Nov 07, 2019 9:09 am

Chui's Fate

As the trio interacted with each other, Castor found it difficult to break into their conversation. As much as Dax and him were indeed crewmates, he’d often silence Castor when it came to anything outside of treasure or women. It was a breath of fresh air, a pirate crew that had some level of synergy.

The newest member of Tooth-Decay's crew carried a sword at his waist which peaked Castor’s own curiosity, that and the fact his race hailed from his own tribe.

Leaning in, he’d place his face inches away from the stranger’s third eye. “Yup. It’s the real McCoy. It’s been ages since I’ve seen someone from our Tribe who wasn’t domesticated by the outside world. Most captain’s shy away from Three Eye Tribesmen due to how often slavers try to kidnap them.” Castor declared, giving a warning to a fellow tribesman himself.

Walking side by side with Brood at the helm, the group entered into an empty pub which was quickly occupied by Brood and his men. The once dreary atmosphere was set alive by droves of pirates heckling the barkeep for more rum bottles and glasses to boot. “I might be a short but I can handle my drinks Tooth-Decay.” Castor stated chuckling at the man’s comment.

After swigging down a few shots, the question about Castor’s crew came up. “My crew’s pretty small… That’s why I borrowed those slaves for the raid at Las Camp. Dax was here with me… Who knows where he’s at now. We always find our way back to each other, it’s kind of our thing.

The others, are currently on Flevance – in the North Blue. I’ll be heading back there shortly. I came to the West Blue for a specific ship. Legend says that anyone who lies their eyes on it are eternally cursed at sea. I wanted to have the Goddess of Misfortune on my side.” Castor explained grinning with excitement, swigging down another shot of rum.

“Treasure? You better don’t let Dax hear about it. He’d burn down as many villages as he has to find gold. Frankly. I’ve grown bored of the West already. Aside from restocking I have no business on Kano. I’ve been here for almost a week now.” Castor declared, sighing at the mentioning of treasure hunting. Listening into Brood’s conversation as he’d take the occasional sip of rum, Castor interjected on Brood’s banter with his crew.

Clearing his throat, “If you’re looking for better materials for weapons, this country has a parish called Weis you can travel to North-East of here. Swords. Hell. You could arm a whole army for the right price. As for that slave ship… Pick one. Chui is known as the bargaining parish. Shouichun was known for it’s fishing industry but most of the other districts around here have their hands stained in dirty money. Slaves. Whores. Drugs. Firearms. It all goes down in Shouichun.” Castor explained.

Suddenly, the sound of boulders landing atop the straw ceiling houses of Shouichun magnified around them. Except, it wasn’t boulders making the noise, that would have been much easier to deal with. The flaming arrows began to set the village afire. Archer’s mounted the Cliffside, raining arrows along the village. A seemingly never ending storm with winds that carried the wooden shafts to impale the innocent and the down trodden.

The commanding officer, a man by the name of Fang and he was indeed minister Fouchu’s little brother. Fang was a rebel soldier at one point who’d forsook the Happo Navy many a time, but once his brother had garnered power, he’d been acquitted of all of his crimes. Raising his hand to signal the halt of the aerial attack, atop horse back, the man began to bark orders to his army of Five Hundred.

“Ugh… My brother sent me… To declare this district as lawless. Kill the old, prioritize the young, especially the women. The men and young teens can go to the coal mines and the women of age to the brothels. Get going! There’s a play I want to check out in the Capital! I don’t have time to be playing errand boy for my brother’s political attempts!” Fang shouted.

As the buildings burned, the villagers fled to the outside of their homes, only to be chained and branded in the streets by the warriors who flooded the city aback horses. Wearing traditional kabuki armor, heavy plated and carrying glaives as their weapons of choice. All but Fang, who opted for lighter wear, he’d wear no armor on his upper body at all, and opted for metallic armored pant leggings.

Finishing off the shot of rum in his glass, Castor rose to his feet inside the burning structure, removing his feature killing cloak to reveal his hakama and kimono, colored red and white respectively. The symbol of his family, the comma sign shone in royal gold on his top, as Summer Rain was drawn from his waist into his hand, resting the null edge of the elongated katana on his shoulder.

“It seems someone’s trying to interrupt our drink. I always already in a bit of a mood from those brats earlier.” Castor declared, with his third eye tensing to match the agitation in his face. Expanding his concentration, the Nox Pirate Captain used his affinity with electricity to chime into the sound waves that rode along the air, releasing a broad but thin electrical discharge surrounding the entire village.

“Hmm… It seems this village is being sacked by what appears to be members of this countries Navy.” Castor reported. “What’s the call Tooth-Decay? This place by looks of it is—” Castor declared but before he could finish his sentence, two guards stood at the entrance of the pub. The barkeep had long abandoned the building, but the looting guards came in search of spoils, firing off an arrow towards Castor’s dome.

Using his logia’s dexterity point, the arrow simply phased through his body effortless, smashing into the bottle of rum they had been drinking on the table.

Fang:

Word Count: 1025 | Tagged: @Brood @Wren @Deku

Notes: Part II - Mini Boss Arrives!

Wed Nov 13, 2019 9:34 pm

❝

THAT'S RIGHT

I'M TALKING TO YOU.

BLACKBELL A. WREN

The arrival of the swordsman Wren was oft prone to falling victim to teasing from, arrested the attention of the tontatta in human toddler form. Her silver hair fluttered in the wind as she lifted her cheek off Brood’s head and her eyes brightened at the sight of the three-eyed youth.

“Yan-ji-ro~!” she cried out and flew off her captain’s shoulder.

Should her crew mate remain planted in the same position, she’d fly squarely into his stomach and wrapped her portly arms around his torso. The toddler squeezed her companion tightly in an affectionate hug before loosening her grip and proceeding to climb clumsily to his shoulders.

Her new plaything was much smaller than her captain, but instead of taking reign of her devil fruit’s power, the toddler refused to manipulate her form unless necessity demanded it and she brutally continued her laborious method of settling herself on Yanjiro’s shoulders. Finally wriggling into position, she smacked her chubby palms enthusiastically against the top of her three-eyed crew mate’s spiky head.

“If I go on a diet, then everyone has to eat what I make!” she declared haughtily.

She puffed out her rosy cheeks in a playful display of annoyance to accompany her not-so-subtle reminder to her newest vehicle of her periodic and entirely undesirable visits to the Primetime’s kitchen. Of the old Primetime Pirates, her disastrous and apocalyptic-inducing “cooking” (if it could even be called that) had been notorious as a horrific ordeal to witness, let alone ingest, and not many had been known to be courageous enough to bite into her creations.

Yet, it had soon become whispered among a niche minority of the former crew that her cooking tasted far more delectable than appearance led one to believe, though this knowledge had died with the old generation and the only remaining member who could possibly recall the true taste of her cooking seemed to hardly care. This knowledge caused the silver-tailed tontatta immense sadness and the constant pressure she applied on the new crew still had yet to forge rewarding results.

Still, Wren was not one to give up easily, if at all, and she still carted her freshest batches around the ship, offering her hellish “recipes” to anyone who had failed to escape. As her captain addressed her, Wren turned her eyes to meet his and grinned cheekily. She immediately touched her fingertips to her temple and straightened her back to mimic a tongue-in-cheek salute.

“Aye, aye, cap’n!” she declared obediently, though the twinkle in her eyes evoked reason for doubt.

As the group traversed through the market to a nearby bar, Wren clung to the ends of Yanjiro’s spiky hair, swinging her stubby legs restlessly. Her silver tail flapped whimsically behind her and she tossed her head back with a squeal at the sight of a flock of crows swooping over their heads.

Their boisterous entrance to the bar was hardly missed, but due to similarly dastardly company among the grub-drinking establishment, it was the double-take brought on by their group’s youngest and most lively member that appeared to draw eyes. Yet the ever vigilant and ever protective glare of her studious guardian quickly warded curious gazes away and Wren was none the wiser of the exotic nature her presence brought to the dodgy gathering.

Rum soon flowed in ostensibly unlimited supply and Wren was not one to shy away from accepting offerings, no matter how perilous the substance. Their server might have glanced doubtfully at the rum-drinking toddler sitting square centre at their table, but one peek at the three menacing auras seated around her was enough to send him scuttling away. Responsible service of alcohol be damned when one’s life was at risk.

Happily, Wren picked up her glass of rum, rudely undercut with water by the penny-pinching bar’s owner, and downed the contents in one gulp. She paused, wondering for only a moment whether or not her unfamiliar body was equipped with a tolerance for alcohol. She was eager to discover her limit and when the first cup failed to produce even a light buzz, she reached for her next drink, keen to coax out a more desirable response to the alcohol.

She froze with the cup to her lips as Brood addressed her again. Slave ship? Chase? Confused, Wren quickly swallowed the contents of her next glass to mask her ignorance to her supposed mission. She then slammed her glass down, running her tongue over her lips. Still no buzz? Despite her underaged form, her hormones must have disappointingly raised her tolerance against the intoxicating drink.

“I might have lost the ship,” said Wren boldly, not one to bother with lying to save her own hide. “But I’ll find a better one for you, cap’n! Pinky promise!”

As Castor explained the nature of the country, Wren only kept one ear casually trained on his words and the other seemed intent on expelling the information it acquired. In one ear and out the other, as they say, though there was a tiny part of her brain filtering and filing the more important details. Dirty money. Drugs. Shouichun. That should be enough to help her accomplish her promise.

She paused before her third drink at the word “drugs”, a whimsical and almost dark smile playing on her lips before they touched the rim of her cup. Oh, but she shouldn’t forget about the key words, “slave ship.” Nodding to herself with an expression of hardened resolve, Wren gulped down more watered rum and with her supply having dried out, she glanced around the table contemplatively.

Eyeing the whole bottle of rum in front of Castor, Wren’s eyes shone greedily and she shuffled across the table. Reaching for the bottle and with her attention completely focused upon the acquisition of her inappropriate vice, she had completely neglected to care for the guards storming the bar.

As the patrons scrambled to abandon the property, Wren’s face lit up as her fingers brushed the bottle, but when it exploded in her face as a result of the whistling arrow sizzling through the lightning form it passed, her expression immediately twisted into rage. The guards, oblivious to the little monster they had presently unleashed, thundered through the narrow door frame. Wren’s rum-drenched face lowered and cast an ominous shadow over her features and her shoulders started to tremble.

“I was drinking that…” she mumbled under her breath, her voice so low it would be a strain to one’s ears to discern her words. “How dare you!”

Her chubby cheeks bloated and red like a raspberry, Wren suddenly sprung to her feet and her form immediately sprouted and transformed into that of a thin, flat-chested middle-aged woman. Her formerly neat bob-cut began to wriggle like snakes, growing longer and wilder until they surrounded her body like an unearthly, silver aura.

Wrinkles furrowed her brows as her unconstrained, childish rage exploded. Leaping off the table at the nearest guard, her witch-like hair whipped behind her like ugly, warped wings and she extended her clawed hands. She plunged her long, gnarly nails into the guard’s eyes and ripped the unfortunate peepers from their socket.

Like a wild, unstoppable animal, she turned on the next guard and bared a set of sharp, serrated fangs. Flinging her latest kill away, she charged at her new prey and taken aback by her unprecedented speed, the guard could only let out a gurgling and despairing scream as Wren sank her teeth into his neck and he crumbled to the ground, his life draining from the witch's lethal bite.

She released the guard and spat out a mouthful of bitter blood, but with her entire jaw stained and more dripping from her chin, her gaunt and wrinkled face was a gruesome sight to behold. With her back arched, she rose to her feet to assess her surroundings. There was a cry from behind her and still immensely annoyed, Wren turned to face the next charging guard, only to stop dead as a knife plunged into her shoulder.

BY RIMY :hearts: OF BTN

Tue Nov 19, 2019 1:01 pm

[Saga] I Know That Ugly Mug EmbarrassedTemptingCollie-small

With Castor's comments about the rarity of their race, Yanjiro couldn't help but agree with him. Finding a fellow Three-Eyed Tribesman was like seeing a ghost. Yanjiro was probably spared from the slave life due to him being born on Wano and Nobles didn't have the balls to step foot on the swordsman's homeland. It would be a death sentence, but it would be a death sentence that Yanjiro would want to spectate. Yanjiro would go to answer Castor about slavers and such.

"Probably due to-"

Yanjiro's sentence cut short by the presence of Yanjiro's crewmate. Wren, the ever so unpredictable ball of excitement. Yanjiro couldn't help but treat her like a sister, she just gave off that kind of vibe about her. It wasn't the norm for Yanjiro but it was a good change, and a welcomed one. Yanjiro always hunted for fights from people but the fact that he can chill off some times and then go back into fighting was a good thing, for both his mental and his physical heath. Yanjiro had just come off of a massacre he conducted. His bloodlust reached an all-time high and he needed the sweet release of battle and blood to cool him off.

But that act made him a wanted man, but with Yanjiro having a clear mind, Yanjiro thought it was worth it. Even if he lost a sword back there. Speaking of swords, Yanjiro was in need of a new one. There hand to be a blade that was capable of taking over for Yanjiro's blade, Kuromasa. After the crew hit up the Bar, Yanjiro was going to look for a sword shop and maybe just kill the clerk and take a good sword or something. Yanjiro would figure out the details later. With Wren on his head, Yanjiro thought that this would be a good chance for exercise. But when Wren leaned backward from the crows that flew over, Yanjiro couldn't help but pat her back for comfort.

Was this Yanjiro actually caring deeply for someone? Nahhhhh, probably a spur of the moment sort of thing. Yanjiro wasn't one to get too close to people, even his Captain. But who knows maybe in a few years that could change, that's if Yanjiro is still alive though. Just the thought of someone killing Yanjiro caused the young swordsman to snicker in his mind. After the group made it into the bar, Yanjiro only had the thought of the sword shop on his mind. So when Brood spoke of treasure Yanjiro paid no attention to it. Yanjiro only locked onto the conversation once Brood spoke about a Whetstone.

"What do you know about Whetstone?"

Yanjiro knew of whetstones, he always used one to sharpen his blades but when did his Captain know about them. Yanjiro leaned in

"Rare, you said rare right? What makes his whetstone rare?"

Yanjiro was fully invested in the conversation now that it had something to do with something Yanjiro treasured. Yanjiro paid no mind to Wren getting Rum on his face, nor the fact that she would transform and would attack the guards. He would only catch the encounter out the corner of his eye and would simply smirk at his crewmate's doing. Unpredictable as ever, that is one of the things that made it so fun to have Wren as an ally, she just does that that almost no one would expect her to do for both her size and her form. Hopefully, she didn't use her sorcery on Yanjiro, he finds sorcery interesting but he has also seen what it can do and some of it is not pretty. He also saw Caster glow with electricity and just assumed it was another form of sorcery, something much different from the magic that his captain Brood uses and his crewmate Wren uses as well.

Wed Jan 22, 2020 12:53 pm

"TESTING THE WATERS 1"

Brood uses Sugar Bullet[UT] on Fang.

Fang uses Horse Trample [LT] on Brood.
Fang (Ordering Grunt) uses Arrow Shot [UT] on Brood.

Wed Jan 22, 2020 12:53 pm

The member 'Brood' has done the following action : Dice Roll

#1 'Reflex Check' : 10

--------------------------------

#2 'Reflex Check' : 7, 18

[Saga] I Know That Ugly Mug