[Episode] Seminar's In Session!

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White stoned buildings stretched along the Kingdom, as the majority of Flevance citizen’s occupied pretty fancy homes. Since the bounce back from the Amber Lead fiasco, the government has invested hundreds upon thousands in berri to stimulate growth among various communities. It was a great contrast from the other North Blue islands, poverty here was someone’s middle class elsewhere. The island became a fine city for not only trade but science. Herbal remedies, chemical labs, trial studies, to name a few occurred at several private practices throughout the island. One institution that sat at the cornerstone of these movements was none other than the first general hospital, Amber General Hospital. Across the North, the Hospital often brought in the greatest minds in medicine, and today, was no different. A day long seminar where doctors and pharmaceutical superstars could come amongst peers and pitch their newest products. Whether it be a pill or a new treatment method for an illness, any kind of connection could’ve been made at seminar’s thrown by the hospital’s executives.

With the death of Dr. Abio, Castor’s crew is in need of a new medical mind. However, whether he’d find someone who could line up with the ‘ideals’ of his wacky pack of misfits will be another story. Wearing his thick spectacles, a green and gray tracksuit, his usual headband to hide his third eye and white pumped sneakers, Castor assumed a whole new persona, a young merchant with an old man’s sense for fashion, looking to strike it big in the distribution game. Dax hated his costumes but Castor put great pride in being undercover from the law, it was his own little hobby in this little crazy world of his. Purchasing himself an all access pass, Castor smuggled into the seminar attendee’s crowd. The building’s pristine snow white floors, walls, and dressed staff greeted the medical minds, merchants, and aristocrats alike. From the main entrance towards the Seminar Room in the hospital’s visitor wing, Castor secured himself a seat at the back of the room. The only row usually left empty at these things due to everyone trying to sit as close as possible to take notes, socialize, the regular jazz.

However, thanks to his Logia, all of the mirco-conversations he’d be able to manage, as an invisible fly on the wall. The final entry to the room was the sponsor for today’s activities, escorted by her two bodyguards, the fashionista caught the eyes of everyone in the room. Her charm oozed from her attire - long white flowing dress, with a split at the side, high heels, white veil over her face, ruined only by her pitch black sun-glasses, which added a swagger of sorts. Parading around the various rows through the seminar room, the woman took a seat directly next to the Castor, who sat with his arms flooded, lost in a world of his own. The bodyguards stood behind her seating arrangement, two eight footers, styled in white suits, one with a red and black handkerchief sticking out their suit’s jacket. Everyone turned their attention to the woman, chiming in with a timely applause, led by the seminar’s organizer.

As things quieted down, the doctors peered over their shoulders every now and again to take a gander at the beauty’s physique and deep red crimson eyes. The seminar commenced, and Castor had yet to even turn once in her direction. Digging through her make-up bag, the woman searched for her lip balm, removing it from it’s holster, and fixing her lips to a fluffy light pink.

“Hey. Four-eyes.” the mysterious woman hackled.

Ignoring the woman’s call, Castor scanned the crowd, listening to the murmurs of the doctors as the seminar was about to commence.

Easing in with swiftness, the woman puckered her lips and pressed them against the man’s cheeks, rustling his glasses with the intensity.

Slightly annoyed, which was hard to do, Castor signed, turning his attention to the attention seeker. Turning his head slightly, with the blankest of expressions.

“Eh.”

“Eh?! You know how many men would die for that to happen to them? Rude!” the woman declared, slapping the table in annoyance after every word. “Do you know why I decided to sit next to you, brat?” the woman stated, using her hand to accentuate the physical difference in their heights.

“EH.” Castor stated twice, this time with a slight scowl. His volume and tone, staying as quiet and disinterested as ever.

Smiling broadly, as she’d fix her lips with balm once more.

“You were the most tackily dressed in the room. Makes my outfit pop! Those glasses! Fail!

That dusty old green tracksuit! Fail!

Last but not least, that headband is a fashion crime. God! The more I look at you, the more frustrated I feel.” the woman ranted on rudely, whispering into the Imp’s ear.

To Castor, it’d be as if the two were speaking completely different languages. Digging into his ear, he’d turn his attention back towards the seminar’s stage.

“Yes ma’am. Thank you for such an amazing critique! Must be nice being a VIP! Oh-ho.” Castor declared incredibly sarcastically, slow and with no emotion, adding exclamation only to add intensity to his sarcasm.

Frustrated, the woman was about to give Castor a piece of  her mind when the first key speaker hit the stage. The screeches from the women in the crowd, made it evidently obvious who was next, though his name had yet to be called in the introduction. It was the Marine Pretty Boy and famed medical genius, the man known among his peers as the Chastity Virtue, Dutch. Six-foot eight, long flowing green hair, freshly ironed marine uniform, and shoulder coat bearing the marine’s slogan for ‘Justice’ on it’s back. The Captain strutted to the stage with such grace, even more so than white dress woman’s entrance. Catching the attention of them both, the two of them would declare with squinted eyes behind their glasses, disgust for the squeals that followed next.

“Loud.” Castor thought.

“Eew.” the woman sounded.

“Introducing to the stage… Our first special guest - Flevance’s Very Own Chastity Virtue - Dutch Glassjaw.” the MC for the afternoon portion announced.

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Next to Glassjaw, to his side was a less assuming gentleman, an older man who was also promptly dressed in marine attire. From the murmurs in the crowd, he was known as Clevis - The Medicine Man, a rear admiral in the marines. Strange, a man who seemed to have a much more dangerous aura was accompanying the heart throb? Castor didn’t take long to ponder, as his concentration was broken by the loud sound of the woman chomping on bubblegum.

Removing one of the hairpins from his pinned up hair, Castor popped the woman’s bubble, causing the gum to spread over her face. With a screech, the bodyguards attempted to spring into action, however, with two glares, Castor had rendered the men unconscious, exerting a bit of his ‘will’ to do so. The woman was sitting close enough to feel it, and her once confident persona faded slightly, she’d had much more questions than just about his outfit at this point. Adjusting his spectacles, “Seems your guards have fainted. Outside is quite hot today.” Castor commented, turning his attention towards the podium.

“Good Evening… One and all… My name is Dutch Glassjaw. I won’t waste time on pleasantries. My presentation today will be based on a drug called Pheromone 44. It’s a pill that once taken, it will make you undesirable to the woman or man… You desire. Essentially, the world’s first love potion.” Glassjaw announced, removing a container filled with green pills from his pocket. The doctors in the room were in an uproar, most, if not, anyone in the room didn’t believe his claims. Love Potions? Those were things talked about in fairytales and dramatic plays alike, however, the mysterious lady in white paid very close attention, not even batting an eye of disbelief. It was her reaction that made Castor pay attention to the man’s presentation as well.

“See. I’ve been born with a very unique… trait. My sweat produces a rare chemical that my master to my left dubs Number 44. It’s an aphrodisiac of sorts. Combined with several other over the counter components, as listed in my case study that’s being passed around, the drug is completely safe for consumption. With almost 75% success rate in all cases found.” Glassjaw reported. “However my colleagues. I don’t have to lie. I can just show you.” Glassjaw declared arrogantly. Searching the crowd, he’d look for a beauty of his choice. In the far back, his eyes spotted a damsel who’d been chatting with an also very, fairly attractive young fellow.

Glassjaw loved ballbusting men who were trying to participate in the very game he was naturally born for. “You. My lady in the back with the black hair. Come to the stage.” Glassjaw insisted. Clearing her throat for a minute before speaking, “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer. I don’t have much interest in-” the woman’s speech was interrupted with the sound of the pill shooting off like a pistol, from almost hundred feet away, Glassjaw had aimed the capsule into the woman’s mouth in between gaps of her speech. Involuntarily, the woman swallowed, panicked at first but mustering up enough saliva she’d swallowed the pill. Her eyes locked with the seven footer, she’d been previously talking to and within an instant, her heart rate began to accelerate rapidly. Butterflies in her stomach, sweaty palms, panicked breathing, she was either in love or about to have a heart attack. Nervously, looking around the room, as eyes fixated on her, she’d cling to seven footer's arm, declaring her love. “Oh my… I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“Soru!” Glassjaw shouted, disappearing from his position on the podium, shooting another red pill towards the woman’s mouth. Similar to last time, she’d swallow once again, and her symptoms would alleviate, embarrassed by her behavior, she’d slide a few inches away at a safe distance from the flirtatious male, as the crowd entered into an up roar. One by one, doctors, merchants and private investors wanted to try out the product on their own personal escorts to see if the pill was an act of drama or truth. Glassjaw was now standing in the centre between the two pairs in the back, noticing the passed out guards on the ground, he’d turn his attention to the woman dressed in white.

“My fair lady. It seems your friends are taking a deep nap.” Glassjow commented.

Not amused by the conversation or the invention, “It seems.” the lady would give a short answer with a slight annoyance to her tone.

“Would you care to be my next test subject?” Glassjow inquired.

“100,000,000 Million. That’s what it takes for me to put anything made from your body into mine. I’m quite generous. Most men spend half of that on a first date with me-” the woman’s speech was interrupted by the man attempting to launch a pill into her mouth, in a similar fashion as previously done, however, not only did the woman deflect the pill, she’d reached under dress, removing a pistol from the holsters around her thighs. Aiming the mouth of the barrel towards Glassjow’s… family jewels.

“Unlike the last gal, I’m not one to be forced into experimental trials for your little sideshow. Move on. Or I’ll blast a hole through yer’ pen holster.” the woman declared, wiggling her finger, timed accordingly from laughs in the audience. Wrapping his hand around the mouth of the gun, Castor would disarm the woman in seconds, “I’m sorry. My sister tends to be violent. Please forgive her.” Castor chimed in, adjusting his glasses. Annoyed, “You should teach her to be more of a sport.” Glassjaw barked, walking away from the woman towards another willing volunteer in the crowd. “I’d urge you to take your hand off my gun, fashion zombie.” the woman stated, even more annoyed that Castor interfered. What she hated more than anyone else, were men who wanted to impose their power or show-off on her behalf.

“In some countries… pointing a pistol at a marine is a criminal offense. You’ve been blessed with the looks and status to scoff it off but some of us, don’t have that luxury. Please stop drawing attention to where I’m sitting.” Castor declared, sighing, finding the whole need to give the woman a speech bothersome.

“Then move. There are plenty of other seats in the hall.” the white haired woman declared.

“No. I was here first.” Castor responded, turning away from the woman, digging into his ear with his pinky finger, continuing to watch the pretentious marine conduct his medical trials on the live audience.

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Listening to the man’s speech, the red-eyed woman dressed in white was actually impressed. He’d touched on some vital points to poke holes in the man’s product, even rallying support of some of the members in the audience. Refuting the man’s claims, “Obviously, you’d say that stranger. We, if you don’t mind me saying, have been blessed by the god’s with looks. What about the average man or woman who wants to be loved but is too shy to approach? Products are made to provide comforts in this already stressful world. In an era filled with pirates, revolutionary terrorists and magical fruit that can cause literal wars, your ethical code lies in denying people affairs of the heart?” Glassjow commented. “What a shallow world-view.” Glassjow scoffed, descending the seminar room’s staircase.

“And what of freedom? Freedom to choose who and when we love. You mentioned all the ‘average’ ones but life isn’t equal or fair. The one thing that does represent true freedom is choice.” the woman dressed in white commented. “Ah Ah… Looks like she’ll draw more attention again.” Castor thought to himself sighing, slowly trying to inch away from next to the controversy magnet. “Brother with the glasses. Please control your sister’s outbursts.” Glassjow stated, disregarding the woman’s plea. Sighing, “Now he’s talking to me… great.” Castor thought to himself. “Can we move on to the next presentation already?” Castor inquired. “I’m a merchant. Time is money. Besides, it’s not our decision to make whether the sale of that drug should be allowed. It’s the World’s Choice. Any government that passes a law for that drug to be used, that in itself would show how much that government cares about free-will versus control.” Castor concluded, putting great distance between himself and the troublemakers.

The mediator called for time, Castor and the two strangers speeches sucked up Glassjow’s presentation segment. Enraged, Glassjow stormed into the audience, followed by his master who’d sit next to him to follow suit. Taking their seat, the seminar continued and various products were introduced to the conversation, health, skincare, illnesses even new sedatives for subduing violent criminals were mentioned. As soon as the auction concluded, the networking portion commenced, merchants, investors and medical practitioners alike socialised with each other in ways of making lucrative connections. However, Glassjow was still pissed from earlier, and he’d spend his time staring holes in the seven footer, the two women, both of which he’d harassed today.

Walking around the party, exchanging information, Castor gained some very interesting connections for suppliers, and spent much of the auction ducking the white haired vixen. Something about her screamed bad juju in Nox’s books, and he’d definitely been a practitioner of - ‘avoid the unhappy and unlucky.’ especially when himself was known to naturally attract trouble. “All the clothes in the world can’t suppress that warrior spirit of yours, sir.” Clevis, the elder marine reported, sitting at a table all alone, sipping from a black tea cup with golden paintings of trees on it. Scanning the room momentarily, Castor would look around twice, trying to figure who exactly the marine had been engaging conversation with, as he hadn’t made any attempts to. “Warrior spirit? I wouldn’t go for that. I have seen a few things that one can’t unsee.” Castor commented, sitting at the table with the marine, reaching for the turned over tea-glass to pour some tea into it for himself.

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Getting comfortable, Castor would reach for the teapot, only to be interrupted by the elder, who’d extended the courtesy of pouring the merchant a cup. Smelling the aroma first, Castor bask in the ambience, before placing his lips on the teacups rim, and sipping gingerly.

“Tell me… Where are you from?” Clevis inquired.

“To me… That question has many answers. I’m an orphan of the sea of course.” Castor responded.

“I see. Sorry to hear that. It seems you’ve still made something out of your life. As common as your outfit may come across, your skin’s fairly smooth and blemish free, benefit of healthy living. See. I can tell alot about a person from their skin.” Clevis stated. “After all… That is my field of specialty.” the old marine explained, sipping his tea once again, as he would in between pauses.

Touching the skin on his face awkwardly, "First the sweat guy… and now you with the skin. These places do attract quite a few peculiar types.” Castor thought. “I’ve tried my best as a merchant here and there. Some years I live quite extravagantly… Others I scrape by the bare minimum. Such is life however.” Castor spun his venomous web of lies. “I see. I hope we’ll see some sales on our project coming from your camp then. The boys rough around the edges but he means well. He’s taking a curse and making it into something that can help the world. Unfortunately, most people won’t see it that way.” Clevis explained, finishing his cup of tea. Reaching for the pot to pour himself another cup full, Castor would extend his hand in gesture, offering to refill the man’s cup.

“In a world where ambitions are often chased through violence and corruption, anything can fly.” Castor declared ominously.

“The law is law. If the drug is deemed illegal by the World Government then we’ll move on. As doctors, our goal is to continue research in many fields of our interest. Once we die, we pass on our research to others.” Clevis theorized.

“I can’t see any fault in that. Dedication to details seems to be very human like.” Castor stated, still sipping on his first round of tea. “If only my Tribe would practice more modern beliefs.” Castor thought to himself.

“Ha! You say that as if you aren’t human yourself?” Clevis postured.

“Gashi Gashi… What else would I be?” Castor responded smugly, offering a friendly laugh to disarm the Marine Veteran.

“I’ve been in the marine service many years... Not many youth can keep up chatter with me for too long. Let me give you some insider news as thanks. See that kid? He’s one of seven the marine’s have dispatched from HQ to help bolster the World Government’s connection with the Amber Family. They’re calling them the Seven Virtues. The marine rookie who stands above them all is a Captain called Bishop Reed. His master is a well known Rear Admiral - The Black Hook - Kaspin Kenny. Certainly you’ve heard of him?” Clevis inquired.

“Not really. I’m not familiar with the affairs in this Blue. After all, my home’s a far place away from here.” Castor responded puzzled.

“He’s the Rear Admiral responsible for cleaning up remnants of New World Pirates who defect to the Blues after failing in the New World.” Clevis explained.

“Interesting.” Castor thought. “Hmm… A merchant as myself couldn’t do much with that information, what’s so insider about it?” Castor protested.

“Ah. I’ve now gotten to the fun part. One of the mission’s objectives, along with another promise rookie marine crew is to peacekeeper after the kidnapping of the Amber Kingdom’s King from recent world events. Which means they’ll be policing merchants stricter soon, so you’ll have to make sure to screen your clients. Lately merchants have been going around selling weapons to local rebel groups. Some of them even have ties to the New Revolutionary Army.” Clevis warned.

“I see. I’ll keep that in mind.” Castor stated, bowing his head, adjusting his glasses as they’d slide off his face often, not being exactly the right fit.

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The incident kicked off, no pun intended with just that. The marine stared at the young confidently, almost smugly as though he’d had the upper hand. Finishing off his tea, the old man would interject into the young people’s squabble, “Boy. I’m not sure if you understand the situation you’re in. Assaulting an officer is a criminal offense. However, this seminar is sponsored by the World Government, and I ensured my superiors it’d go smoothly. I do protest that you two shake hands and call it-” Clevis' words fell on death ears, Glassjaw had geared up to respond to the man’s kick, reaching for his nunchucks. The two men passionately gawked at each other in all the wrong ways, this wasn’t to be a gentleman’s squabble, especially with the brown haired man’s cheap shot.

Castor continued to sip on his tea, in his opinion, drawing unnecessary attention to himself brought him no value. “You expect those two to talk it out? It seems both of them don’t understand time or place.” the mysterious white dressed lady commented. “As one of the organizer’s of this auction, I order both of you to cease this foolish bravado showcase.” the woman declared, flicking her hair confidently to the wind.

“An organiser… Here I thought you were just another pretty face. Who are you exactly?” Clevis inquired, sipping on his tea. “You can call me Jazzy. Around these parts I’m known as Miss Couturier, I’m the fashion mogul that’s responsible for a large percentage of Royalty's Clothing on this island… and in the North Blue.” Jazzy explained. “Stand-down Miss Couturier. This fiend struck me first… investor or not, I can’t allow someone to insult the marine core I spent my life working to defend.” Glassjaw barked. Yawning, Castor would rest down his tea cup, “I think you’re the biggest insult here to the marines so far. You should learn a thing or two from the old man here. At least be useful enough to brew a mellow cup of tea.” Castor rambled, as he always does, nodding to himself.

Confused, all of the parties present wondered what that had to do with anything.

“Stay out of this tiny-tot. This conversation is for adults.” Glassjow shouted, arrogantly disregarding the strange man’s words. Sighing, once more, Castor would reach for the teapot to pour himself another glass. As soon as the first stream of liquid stained the porcelain surface, the men’s fight took off.

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As the two men began to brawl, Castor watched the doctor’s movements carefully, as he’d engage with the marine. Not much could’ve been gauged about either’s combat prowess, but it’d seem they were determined to not leave until a victor or a loser was declared. One thing’s for sure, no matter what happened, the black haired stranger was going to be jailed. Clevis had given up on trying to end the conflict, instead, he’d called into the local Marine Base, asking for them to prepare the cells. Preparing the climate for a stealthy escape, Castor rose to his feet, and began heckling the audience into his next plot. “I’ll be a week’s worth of my wage that the black hair kid wins this squabble.” Castor announced, drawing in the attention of idle bystanders.

“Sir Merchant… You can’t be serious-” Clevis inquired, puzzled as to why the man would even offer such a bizarre notion to the crowd that gawked on.

“Ha! You know who that pretty boy is? He’ll wipe the floor with some nobody off the street. I’ll bet you two weeks' wages!” one of Glassjaw’s supporters chimed in. Betting amongst the circles began to take place, Castor would walk around from circle to circle, taking names, contact information, and betting amounts. The girl who was the cornerstone of this conflict placed a bet on the mysterious doctor, sending Glassjaw into an even more violent spiral.

“Gambling is illegal unless done inside of a casino on Flevance.” Clevis declared, calming the crowd’s edgy new hobby. “So is a marine officer provoking and assaulting a civilian. It all depends on what side of the story we’re willing to support.” Castor retorted, grinning as he’d adjust his spectacles. Walking closer to the older marine, he’d motion him to bend in closer, as to accommodate their difference in height. Whispering into the man’s ear, “You see. All human beings want to be entertained in some fashion. Legal or Illegal. That’s just a group of the empowered sheep creating laws to protect the flock. Look at their eyes… Doctors… Seen to be the backbone of many economies worldwide… Intrigued by two men duking it out. It’s intoxicating isn’t it?” Castor concluded, leaving the speechless.

Reframing for interrupting any further, the old marine would sit back at the table, signaling to the servers he’d need more tea. “They have twenty minutes. Once my student puts an end to this foolish exercise, I’ll be throwing both of you in the cell for a day.” Clevis stated, exhaling loudly in frustration, and the pains of old age. “And if my ‘bet’ wins?” Castor inquired. “Then I’ll have to retrain my protege from scratch. I’ll have him take military discipline for everything that’s transpired today.” Clevis declared, speaking loud enough so Glassjaw was aware of the conditions of their squabble.

“Then I’ll put a million on the black haired brat.” Jazzy chimed in. “It might be interesting watching marines disciplining their own.” Jazzy stated, taking off her glasses to reveal her deep red scarlet eyes. Adjusting his spectacles once again, as a nervous habit embedded in his persona, “Then it’s a bet. Right now, three people in this entire room have bet on the black hair man to win. The odds are 3 to 41 in favor of Glassjaw.” Castor concluded.

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The moment the marine brat’s body hit the floor, Clevis sprung into action instantly. At speeds the seven footer couldn’t even hope to register, he’d lunge from his seat, and attempt to slap handcuffs on the Black Haired assailant. Touching various pressure points in his back disable his movement, the Rear Admiral would floor the criminal, “Disappointing. To think my protégé would lose in a situation like this. This seminar is over. Everyone leaves the room, except for the merchant and the lady in white.” Clevis commanded. The bodies shuffled for the exit to the seminar hall, as personnel from the marines rushed into the room. Blocking each of the exits, “I’m going to need you two to come into the Marine Base and make statements on the events of today. I'm an old man… These days I let the youngsters do the heavy lifting but I can’t sit back and have our Branch defamed by this loud mouth.” Clevis declared.

Gashi Gashi Gashi Gashi…

A loud maniacal filled the almost empty seminar room, as the tracksuit wearing merchant began to strip away his disguise. Slamming the glasses into the ground, letting down his hair to flow wildly, the man’s red and white traditional kimono bore the comma symbol of his clan. On his back, covered with talisman’s and wrapped in white cloth, was his brand new two hander, Zaigo.

It instantly became obvious to anyone who’d been following the news these days, exactly who this man was, none other than; Castor O. Nox - Sanpaku. Jazzy’s eyes opened widely as the realization of the man’s identity sent chills down her spine. Aside from one other, Castor was noted as one of the strongest pirates in the North Blue currently.

“I wasn’t going to be involved with this past the bet but you’ve blocked my ability to leave here old-man. I'll take that as a threat to my life. I really wanted to enjoy some more tea. After all, I’m only going to be in Flevance for a brief spat.” Castor declared.

“I would’ve loved to drink more tea with you as well. However, you’re the face of evil among the pirates these days. My supreme sense of justice won’t let you leave here.” Clevis retorted, stripping his marine attire to reveal a chiseled body for his age. “The last hospital I had a squabble inside ended up destroyed significantly. It comes with the nature of my abilities, I’m not exactly a ‘low-key’ kind of fighter. Do you understand Rear Admiral Clevis, was it? All my collateral damage will be going on your tab.” Castor taunted, revealing his menacing two handed longsword. With the talisman’s removed, a menacing aura leaked around the room, it’d definitely added an evil presence to Castor’s seemingly chill persona.

Releasing a large electrical discharge, the room began to be filled with small electrical sparks, similar to the spores off a dandelion. Snapping his fingers, the spores encapsulated the man’s position atop the handcuff male. “Soru!” Clevis shouted, using his speed to escape his previous position, however, the spores followed him like a heat seeking missile, tracking his position inside the room. Transforming from a very slow motion, floating in the air, to tiny lightning darts that sunk into Clevis’s body. [MT - Enlil’s Curse]

“Pretty.” Jazzy declared, as the room became super bright, a spectrum of colors between blue and purple lightning. The old man’s instantaneous motion paused, convulsions riddled his body, as his breathing became extremely panicked. Tactically, the more distance between himself and Castor was definitely a bad idea. Crackling from his position, in an instantaneous movement, Sanpaku appeared behind Clevis, slapping the face of his blade against his shoulder. An electrical surge shuffled through his nervous and cardiac systems, causing his body to feel sluggish and groggy, his muscles trembled, almost bringing the man to his knees but through willpower alone, he’d remain standing. [LT - Tunc’s Gelida] Finally, using his free hand, Castor would extend his index finger in a gun like fashion, shooting four small bursts of lightning to each appendage on the man’s physique, weakening the functioning of his shoulders, reducing the amount strength added into his potential strikes. [LT - Crucifixion]

The Rear Admiral showed zero fear in the face of the rookie, even though he’d proven himself across the seas, his feets across the years, have placed him in much more heartbreaking situations than these. “Energy Point - Kempo Barrage!” Clevis screamed, as his hands began to pummel against the Logia’s body, each strike weighted with a light coat of Haki, preventing Castor to phase the attacks through his body. Shoulder, throat, chest, rib cage and finally solar plexus, though they weren’t clean strikes, as Castor turned his body as each one impacted, the pressure from the attacks were enough to cause some internal damage. [MT - Energy Points]

“In the sea beyond this point… They are people of my caliber everywhere. This is the end of the line for you, boy.” Clevis declared, focusing his breathing. Suddenly, the man’s scrawny figure began to bulk up, the once five footer, grew about two feet, each of his muscles pulsating from the blood he’d forcefully pump into them, using an old breathing technique. “Soru!” Clevis shouted, pushing off the ground, in a swift motion, slapping his palm against Castor’s face, sending him tumbling into the seminar room’s stands. [LT - Karma] Lunging into the air, jumped into the stands, extending his left foot outwards, landing a kick which created a whole in the seating area, pressing Castor’s body into the concrete white stone. [LT - High Jump Kick]


Forcefully rejecting the man’s foot, Castor slashed his Zweihander along the man’s chest cage, instantly drawing blood. [UT] However, he was adamant to enter into a power struggle with the Imp, however, his usual strength was fading, as the effects of the electrical charge began to take effect. Pushing the man onto the ground, the shrimp stood almost in his eyes, several feet above Clevis, looking down on the Rear Admiral. “Gashi Gashi Gashi...:” Castor laughed, wiping the blood which filled the inside of his mouth. Spitting on the floor to the left, the lmp let down his kimono to reveal his skin tight plated armor, Suzaku. “You’ll have to hit me harder than that if you want to break through Suzaku’s plates.” Castor stated. “A Logia who wears armor… I guess you aren’t that much of a fool after all. More initiative to bring your journey to an end here.” Clevis stated.

COMBAT TRACKERS:

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Blackening his blade in Busoshoku Haki, with one clean strike, Castor would rip into the Rear Admiral’s shoulder, who’d been pressed against the ground. His wound, along with the blood on Zaigo began to glow purple, the mysterious and malicious properties of the Cursed Blade began to take effect. [MT - Curse of Orochi] Clevis’s vision instantly became blurry, turning over on his side, the man would begin to vomit uncontrollably, as a sickness fell over him. Reaching into his kimono, he’d reveal his throwing spear, Iris, which he’d spin in a drill like manner, pinning the man’s body into the concrete. Clevis blood began to run like a burst pipe, blood gushed into the seating area, leaving the stands decorated in a crimson paint job. [LT - Drill]

Ripping the spear from his shoulder, Clevis sprung back to his feet, tossing the drill onto the ground like a used toothpick. As soon as the man stood upright, Castor would rest his blade at his side, motioning as if he’d sheathed the blade. Using his hand as an imaginary holster, he’d quickly slide the blade along his flattened palm, firing off a wind blade towards Clevis. As sparks of lightning electrified the pressurized air, the projectile passed through Clevis' shoulder, leaving a gap in its wake, pushing the man’s body tumbling backwards from the impact. [LT - Luna’s Kiss] “You’ve collected some interesting weapons - Sanpaku.” Clevis commented, struggling to speak as the nausea overcame his body.

“Comes with the profession. I’m a professional hoarder, you know.” the Imp added. Taking a deep breath, Clevis launched towards the pirate captain once more. Crossing his blade horizontally in front of himself as a guard, Clevis stepped the advance, navigating his thumb against various pressure points on Castor’s body. Each successive jab, left Castor’s body feeling heavier and heavier, until the pain became almost excruciatingly unbearable. [MT - Critical Hit] Wincing in pain, the Imp couldn’t breath momentarily, as his breathing became panicked, his chest hung over to his knees. Clutching his arm backwards, Clevis extended his palm with immense force, releasing a shockwave blast that clapped Castor alongside his head, causing his vision to become slightly blurry. [LT - Successful]. Staggering, unable to discern left from right, the doctor shuffled into his pants pockets, revealing ten silver needles. Quickly inserting each pin into a pressure point on Castor, the spectrum of the pain doubled in volume, leaving a ringing sound in the man’s head. The feeling resembled that of a very intense migraine, except light sensitivity wasn’t needed to provoke the discomfort. [LT - Successful].

Squinting, Castor ceased trying to locate the man with his eyes momentarily, and focused more so on the sounds behind his movements. Counter Striking each other simultaneously, Castor lashed the man alongside his thigh, and Clevis landed a cuff to the man’s chest cage. [UT] [UT] The two men entered into an all out brawl, leaving scratches, cuts, and bruises on each other's body from the vicious exchange. It was a clash of wills, more so, principles than a marine and pirate squabble. Broad smiles filled both parties' faces, as they truly enjoyed the thrill of the fight more so than anything else. “I thought it’d have to live another decade before I’d die to a whippersnappers hands but maybe this old man might retire prematurely.” Clevis stated.

“I have no interest in killing anyone… Not that easily anymore. I’ve fought for revenge… and that brought me a bitter sensation. I’ve fought for entertainment… and that’s a thrill that gets me going for awhile… but in the end I feel empty. That’s why I sail now. To find my purpose on these seas. I never intended to become a big name, it just happened that way. I’ll climb and claw my way to the top… Then maybe I’ll find the pleasure to satisfy my ego.” Castor concluded.

"That's the price of power but you wouldn't understand that yet... Baby Steps - Sanpaku."

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