[Episode] Red Rum n' Roses

Quest Request:

Introduction: Southern Zephyr

The winds of this Blue Sea were gentle and refreshing, like a pleasant cup of tea compared to the harsh Northern gales of Jean’s home. The breeze tugged jubilantly at the Naval vessel’s sails, as though it had something quite exciting to show the ship’s passengers. As the sleek cruiser plodded on toward Baterilla its Officer leaned back against its railing, perusing the contents of a manilla folder with his eyebrow quirked curiously.

Chemshot Senna eh? Well above average in written examinations, exceptional in both marksmanship and applied chemistry practicum... The contents of the woman’s file intrigued Moreau, this was clearly no ordinary recruit, ... over-eager and impulsive, mind her around explosives, Moreau’s eyes widened as he read this, Aria’s commodore had left her quite the footnote to punctuate her commendation; outside the “minor” issue of impulse control her profile was a glowing review of the young lady’s motivation and competence.

Seems like a workable issue, she’s an astounding candidate otherwise, Jean thought to himself, apprehensively rubbing the back of his neck as he pondered whether or not this new recruit would be an invaluable asset or a ticking time bomb.

At just this moment, a sweeping gust of wind blew across the ship’s deck, catching Aria’s file and ripping it from Moreau’s cold metal hand; the man’s new prosthetic was already proving itself a hindrance. As the file scattered to the wind the gentleman desperately plucked each page that he could from the air until only one eluded his grasp: her cover page, tauntingly drifting down towards the lapping olive waves below.

“Damn it no!” He exclaimed, with a sharp and ill-mannered growl.

All but throwing himself overboard, Moreau snatched this page too; were it not for the Ensign’s crewmen catching him the devil-fruit user would have plunged himself into a watery grave, all for the sake of a little piece of paper.

“Yare yare shi-shi…” the man laughed softly at his own carelessness as he slumped back against the railing he’d just attempted to jump, he opened the crumpled parchment he’d managed to crush in his mechanical hand, “...Gyo-ho-ho-hon!” The man began cackling uproariously at the page’s contents.

[npc=navy]“Uh sir?”[/npc] One of the crewmen questioned, Moreau ignoring him and continuing to laugh.

[npc=navy]“Sir? What’s so funny?”[/npc] The other chimed in.

“Oh-ho-ho-hon…” Moreau regained his composure, it would be rude to continue keeping his crewmates in the dark, “...take a look.” He smiled amusedly as he handed the picture over to his comrades.

[npc=navy]“Ha! They let her wear a cowboy hat? Or uh, a cowgirl hat?”[/npc] The crewman didn’t quite understand what Moreau found so amusing about the photo, but he could at least pretend to get it.

“And quite the fashionable one! I suppose for appearance’s sake they had to get her into that drab old cadet uniform at least once; I commend her for having the dignity not to let them force the cap onto her head!” Moreau shot a devilish and taunting look up towards his crewmates’ own “Marine” caps; the Ensign had been enjoying the privilege of fashion that was afforded to him as an Officer, lording it over the lower ranks like a properly posh dandy.

After Arrival: The Evening’s Interview

Despite their officer’s momentary lapse in judgment, the cruiser made port in good time, landing at the island at 3:00 PM; this gave Moreau plenty of time before 6:30 PM to make his way over to the interview spot, and to make a number of brief stops along the way at some of the island’s fine merchants.

At the hour of 6:00 PM the gentle-weapon arrived for his reservation at Café Sur La Mer, a large outdoor table composed of wrought iron and shaded beneath an indigo parasol. For his wait and the arrival of his “guest,” the berri-flush aristocrat ordered a smattering of the restaurant’s hors d’oeuvres; upon his order’s arrival and the departure of his server Moreau hastily reset the table, and began brewing tea.

Ugh is this really enough? Jean thought to himself, scrutinizing the expansive smorgasbord laid out before him; in all but the eyes of a spoiled noble like Moreau the army of “appetizers” would be seen as a bountiful feast.

With a grimace and a sigh the young man took his seat and looked out to the harbor, the cafe offered a scenic view of the spectacular tropical skyline. As the sun began its twilight descent the clouds sparkled to life like fireworks, a bright orange horizon allowed brilliant splashes of peach, rose, and violent their perfect contrast.

Beneath the dwindling rays Moreau articulated his mechanical fingers, his synapses grasped for their phantom limb as the sophisticated replica dutifully imitated his intended impulses; still, the jagged motions of the machine seemed almost alien to him, like the articulating movements of an insect. At least the arm’s reflection of the sunlight was pleasant.

C’est la vie, Jean tried to dismiss his conflicted feelings as his teapot began leaking steam. He couldn’t take his mind off of it. The metallic gleam of the butcher’s cleaver, it was the same as that of his own arm; no, not his arm, [dass]his arm was still somewhere back in that hellhole Spider Miles feeding the rats[cmt]I'm curious to know what happened.[/cmt][/dass].

The tea continued to boil, its high-pitched shrieking the same as his own.

Finally, a savior arrived; a jet of piping-hot water sputtered from the end of the teapot, leaping directly onto Moreau’s fleshy hand like a soldier jumping on a grenade. The gentleman grit his teeth and grinned, happy for the painful distraction from his waking nightmare; with his cold mechanical hand the Ensign took the water from the boiler and left the beverage to steep.

I wonder when the recruit will arrive…, Moreau thought to himself a bit patronizingly, flicking open his pocket watch and reading its hands 6:27 PM, ...hopefully soon I suppose. He raised his eyebrow at the hour’s quick approach, wincing at the pain of his burn as he stared intently at his watch’s second hand.

French & Cuisine:

The first thing that Aria thought was 'OW...'

Though that's not too surprising, really. That same thought has run through her head when she wakes up ever since the accident. The faint crimson and peach coloring flits through the curtains in her temporary room. She was working on a Marine vessel near Batterila for a little while, though to her dismay she wasn't allowed to engage with any pirates yet. What else was she doing here if not to beat up pirates!?

Regardless, though, she had to get up. She was meeting with some Moreauguy later. It was some sort of interview if she remembered right. Her commanding officer had handed her a letter with purple wax seal. 'Who even has a purple seal? Wait, do people even USE seals anymore? Must be some fancy-type, but purple? Really?'

Either way, it didn't matter to much to her at the moment. She gave the note another read-through, adjusting the wide-brimmed cowboy hat she rested on her head before skimming through it again. "Blah-blah 'Greetings Miss Senna', blah-blah 'We here at the hunting party would like to consider you 'blah-bla-' oh here it is, 'I would like to speak with you at Café Sur La Mer' and see if you are a proper- pfft-fit in the Hunting Party' Ha! I'm not proper at all, but we'll see Mr..."

She skimmed the rest of the paper, before finding the signature "Jean Beaufort Moreau..." she paused, and skimmed the name again, once, twice, and only on the third read did her disposition change from increased to a full-on cackle "HYEH-HE-HE-HE! [ass=Damn. Poor Jeans.]HIS NAME IS JEANS[/ass]!? LIKE THE PANTS!? AND HIS MIDDLE NAME IS BEAUFORT!? OH my god that is one hell of a name! He HAS to go by his last name, than, right!? There's no wa- ow owowow"

Her train of thought was interrupted by her commanding officer, Marcel Flint, smacking her in the head with a rolled up newspaper. "Careful Chemshot, don't want to ruin your chances of getting into an actual team, do you? They're the *only* crew to take interest in you based on your temperment. Don't screw it up."

In her head, Aria was rolling her eyes. 'no duh, whatever though' but verbally, she just gave him a cheeky grin, before giving her signature firearm a twirl- The Wasteland Blaster landing across her shoulder "Well yeah I know THAT, but can't I just work with you forever?"

Marcel Flint was a nice enough guy; always with his stubble, looking like he hadn't shaved in a few days though everyone he worked with knew that was intentional. His thick cigar in his mouth twitched as she brought up that idea, smacking her with the newspaper once more, sighing out with a simple "No."

Aria frowned, placing the barrel of the gun on the ground, "Ok, fine, I'll TRY and be nice- anyways get out of my room I need to get dressed!" and with a push, she made sure her commanding officer was out of the room so she could get ready.

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Aria was at least happy that Captain Flint was giving her the day off to get ready for this; not like she needed it anyways. She got strange looks as she walked through the town; her vibrant red eyes catching the looks of several other inhabitants, She told herself that bright red eyes weren't weird when she was little and spent a lot of time trying to find others with them to make her feel better, that it just became a habit at this point. She was yet to find one.

Checking her watch for the time, she sighed and made her way over to the restaurant. What was it called again, some Café Salmonella or something? It wasn't quite that but whatever, she'll find it soon enough.

And soon enough she did, as only a few minutes later she arrived at her destination, Café Sur La Mer. Wait, what did this guy look like again? She opened up the letter and squinted. No picture. Of course. Well, based on the seal, she assumed he would be some fancy looking gentleman-like guy with some sort of purple motif going on.

As she entered, she certainly found someone like that. Even in his seat, he dwarfed many of the other patrons on the building- hell this guy was at LEAST a full foot taller than her! Either way, she had her target. With a light jog, she would arrive at the table, her eyes targeted in on what she would later know as Canapés de saumon fumé, but for now would just call it S A L M O N, throwing it into her mouth as she took a seat, grinning at her host "Hey there, Mr.Jeans I'd assume? I'm Chemshot Senna, but please just call me Aria!"

A better look at this gentleman, and she had to stifle a chuckle already- he had a MONOCLE! He was the DEFINITION of That Butler they had in like, comics! Still, she hadn't eaten almost the entire day so she couldn't help but grab some more of the items on the table and make an impromptu sandwich with the Baguette, and a few of the other items.

As he snapped his watch shut she came into view, the sharply dressed woman cut quite the silhouette; were it not for her signature hat she would have been unrecognizable from the awkward-looking girl pictured in her file. No, her stark white bangs, bright red eyes, and brisk pace all painted the picture of a vicious desperado out for for blood.

“Mr. Jeans’” sanguine presumptuousness was momentarily dispelled by the girl’s gruff and gourmandizing greeting, “Thé-hé…,” the young gentleman chuckled at her scarfing of salmon, “... please make yourself at home Miss Aria, pleasure making your acquaintance, my name is Jean, but you can just call me Moreau.”

The man’s cheerful smile and welcoming attitude concealed his snarky thoughts, Mr. Jeans eh? he tented his eyebrow and smirked to himself as he clasped closed his monocle and dropped it into his vest pocket. The gentleman sat his elbows upon the table, tenting his hands together and setting his chin upon their apex; the rowdy Recruit hardly seemed like the type to call him on his poor table manners.

Flickering his stormy gunmetal eyes to the woman’s makeshift sandwich assembly, the man figured he would be a good host and offer her a stabling meal before her “surprise practical assessment.”

“Canapés de saumon fumé, seems you’re enjoying them! Here…” Moreau prodded with a goading tone to his voice as he thumbed through the menu, “... if you’d like something more substantial perhaps this would be to your taste?” Leaning over to show Aria, the man pointed to one of the dishes, a hearty and rustic fillet known as saumon meunière.

If she agrees, Moreau waves down a waiter and orders her the dish as well as a cherry clafoutis for himself.

“Alright, I suppose that’s enough in the way of formalities. Best get to the matter at hand eh?” The man spoke, lowering his tone to that of a serious and evaluative professional, “I just have a couple of questions for you before we proceed…” the man drew a small notepad from his pocket, giving it a final scan before beginning the interview in earnest, “...it seems that despite your short time as a Recruit you’ve already garnered quite the reputation for yourself as a loose cannon; what owes to that? What do you suppose it is that scared the other crews off of trying to enlist such a skilled and motivated markswoman?”

French & Cuisine:

Post Word Count: 400
Total Word Count: 1,411

"...That's how you pronounce your first name? I mean yeah, it makes more sense than Jean, but still, Jean? I'll stick to Moreau for sure" Aria concluded as she finished her weird Salmon and other sandwich. It was Salmon alright, either way though, after finishing the first of the small, baguette slice sandwiches she would add "It's quite the pleasure to meet you too Moreau! I also noticed you have good taste in appetizers."

She would note his posture change though. Someone fancy like putting elbows on the table meant either he didn't think she would call him on it, or he trusted her and the situation. Eithers fair, if she had to guess, but still she couldn't NOT call him on it- "My-my Mr.Moreau! And here I thought you'd be the type to be prim and proper all the time- I guess you're proving to me already that assumptions are dangerous!" it was clear as day under her hat she had a smirk, keeping her posture loose and fluid as if to show it was a playful jab rather than a genuine critique.

That being said, however, when she saw the S A L M O N on the menu, she couldn't help but immediately want it in her stomach. "I got to say, Moreau, if this wasn't an official Marine summons I would have taken this as you trying to swoon me! Even if the Salmon has a weird name, Salmon is Salmon and belongs on my plate! I would love to try it!" Hearing him order some Cherry Claf-whatever sounded neat, but she wouldn't realize he ordered a cherry pie until later. She would honestly be a bit jealous, but Salmon is better than Cherry.

Still, though, the questioning began in earnest now. The first question was a fair one to ask, she supposed. Before answering, she would adjust her satchel, removing it from her body from her waist "Well, I'd assume you would already guess the loose cannon part, I'm loud and fast. I practiced my aim for a long time back home which got me my precision.

That being said, that's not the full reason. So basically, I make THESE-" she would place a bring pink metal cartridge on the table. There looked to be a bubble on the front-sort of like a piece of blown bubble gum "-My special 'Wasteland Shots' as I like to call them." She would pull out a bullet, roughly the size of her thumb, and place it on the table in front of Moreau. "So essentially, when this part makes contact-" she would point to the tip of the bullet "-A part of the inner chamber is broken, mixing some stuff together, creating -in this case- a sticky pink glob! I have a few others though"

Placing the bullet back into the cartridge, which went back into her bag, and the bag around her waist, she would continue "So, when making some of those, I screwed up a bit. I thankfully had enough time to get out of my room/workshop, but I blew a hole in the side of the ship! Ironically, if it didn't have that much I might have gotten hurt!" As she finished her little story, their food would arrive, and she would immediately dig into her salmon, ignoring the heat of the item

Word Count:

The chevalier was caught off guard by the clever little chatterbox’s observation of his poor table manners, his cheeks flushed rose as he settled his lengthy frame back into a more demure posture; here he was thinking he could let his guard down a bit, Well I suppose she must have some understanding of proper etiquette then, she just disregards that which doesn’t suit her… he thought to himself skittishly, ...fascinating, assumptions can be as dangerous as looks are deceiving; she seems rather bright and charming despite that menacing exterior.

As the young lady across from him followed up her playful jab with the preposterous accusation of “trying to swoon” her the gentleman’s face flustered bright red; with a quick and jittery motion Moreau swooped up his cup of tea and took a long drink from it, hiding his embarrassment as best he could from his dining partner’s keen crimson eyes. Even with the gallant’s overly-romantic heart it was rare for him to feel this nervous around a woman, something in Aria’s demeanor was severely disarming; a sort of “coziness” that melted away some of the Northern man’s typical iciness like the radiance of a furnace.

Oh dear, this is already going sideways. I feel so vulgar, if I let her see me blushing like this she’ll lose all respect for me, I have to be a professional authority figure and conduct myself as such, Moreau reassured himself as he tuned into Aria’s answering her first interview question; he was lucky for the cooling properties that his skin had taken on since consuming his fruit, they made it easy for him to regain his composure, even in the company of a coy and savvy woman.

Moreau listened attentively to Aria’s explanation of her chemical cartridge, the ammunition that had garnered her reputation, as well as the little “incident” that had likely prompted her Commodore’s warning; nonetheless, the woman’s work spoke for itself, “You make those yourself? I know your file said you had some skill in chemistry, but munitions smithing is another league entirely! Seems you’ve cultivated quite the impressive skillset for yourself!”

A wild-eyed look spread across Moreau’s face, for a moment he struggled to contain his excitement, this woman may be even better versed in weapons than he was. Fate is a cruel mistress, just as he was about to geek out and question every detail of Aria’s weaponry, the pair’s food arrived. With the clattering of plates Jean’s train of thought was broken as he instinctively thanked their server, clasping the waiter's hands and giving the man his best graces; he wouldn’t let the red-eyed girl catch his manners slipping again.

As Aria began wolfing down her meal, Moreau took dainty little bites of his pastry, looking out wistfully to the stark contrast of the setting sun against the bay: the sun glimmered a deep red, as the sea’s bright blue hue darkened to that of a flattering indigo. For the moment Jean couldn’t bring himself to interrupt his interviewee’s meal, she obviously enjoyed her seafood; he’d have to keep that preference in mind if she was to sail with Stone’s unit.

“I’d be fascinated to see your arsenal in action Recruit Senna…” Moreau spoke with earnest excitement and curiosity in his voice, but the playful glower he shot at the woman when addressing her by her rank hinted at his frustration with her romantic insinuations, “...as much as I wish the matter was as simple as enjoying a night out with such a well-mannered and distinguished lady, I assure you that the pragmatic reasons for our location will reveal themselves soon enough,” with his flirtatious “sarcasm” Moreau looked out the window again, his cold eyes scanning the nearby docks.

“A bit of dinner and good conversation just happened to pair nicely with the task at hand; call it a taste of The Hunting Party, I live to serve and as such I insist our crew be entitled to some of the finer things in life! ” the gentleman smiled as he slid the half-eaten “leftover” of his pastry over towards his dining companion; he’d noticed her eyeing the confection, if she liked it perhaps he’d have another recipe to add to his repertoire.

“Though I’m very eager to see more of your inventions, we’ll have plenty of time for that later; the topic of the crew leads us to my next question!” Moreau proclaims, leaning over to pour Aria a cup of tea, and inching the leftovers of his dessert over to the side of the hot drink; an unspoken but arguably sweet little offering.

“The Hunting Party is a unit dedicated to driving pirates and criminal scum from the face of the earth by any means necessary. I’ve found it to be trying and thankless work thus far, but for the sake of preserving the peace for those more innocent and kindhearted…” the man trailed off coldly, averting his gaze for a moment before collecting himself, “...for them no order is too grave. Is this a mission you have the stomach for?”

Post Word Count: 846
Total Word Count: 2,257

Aria couldn't help but notice the effect she had on her interviewer. Perfect, have the image of who she seems to be set in- make as few questions pop up as she could. He didn't seem bad, but still, didn't want to bring anything up that she didn't need to. Either way, her grin would never break and the gleam in her eyes would remain, even as she adjusted her hat slightly with the movement of the sun. It was getting lower, but that extra shine was never fun for her.  

That being said, when he seemed to take a genuine appreciation for her ammunition, she couldn't help but crack a wide smile. "Well, if you like THAT then have I got some news for you!" picking up her rifle once more, she rest it on the ground by the butt of it, cartridge slot out "I ALSO made this by hand! I call it the Wasteland Blaster! Wide barrel to fit the bullet, special propellant and a stabilizer to help make one-hundred percent certain the glass only breaks when I want it to! A metal butt with some padding, for guaranteed stabilization, and a scope for long-distance shooting! Truly the perfect weapon!"

She did, truly love her piece of weaponry. It took a long time to perfect. If Moreau wished to examine the gun further, she would let him, but if not she would place it across the back of her chair, barrel down for basic gun-safety reasons. That being said, she assumed he would get to it later as their food had just arrived. She noted the hand grab and thanks, Aria would give him a simple thank you, before looking Moreau in the eyes with a devilish smirk.

"Moreau, what was that! Did you know that guy? Were you trying to swoon him too! I have competition~" Aria placed her right hand to her chest, feigning offense with a flutter of eyes that and a playful gasp. However, before it could be responded to, at least in full, she would dive into the Salmon, absolutely in love with the dish it its entirety. From the flavor to the texture, it was the best dish she had ever had! Granted, she said that every time she ate salmon, but that's besides the point. This time she meant it!

Aria continued to listen as he spoke, not stumbling even a bit at the mention of assets, though she did stop at least once "-I am NOT well mannered or distinguished, though the flattery WILL get you far, so I won't tell you to stop." she did note he had some pragmatic reason for being here, though she chose to not note it verbally for the time being. She was sure she'd see it soon enough, plus she should let him have a little bit of his mysterious fun.

Aria couldn't help but accept the dish, and pack it away quickly and with a smile on her face. It was really good! She was already sold on the Hunting Party, based on the name being cool and the fact that she could bug the ever loving daylights off this Moreau guys on a regular, but she'd be able to enjoy good food too? The icing on the cake, really. "See, you really know how to win a girl over! Good food, fun talk, I can't think of much better!"

She would take a sip of her tea as well, before removing a normal bullet from her pouch to fiddle with. The tip of the bullet weaved bellow her fingertips, before emerging once more as the base lay rested between. She would invert the motion, as she listened to her interviewer speak some more. She hung onto the words of what the Hunting party was, every syllable sinking in as she heard every word he said. Her grin faded, being replaced with a solemn expression. The joy in her eyes fading, from that of a roaring flame to that of still red wine in a cracked glass, its contents bleeding through the imperfections.

Aria would place the bullet on the table, softly, nary a sound as gunmetal made contact with the soft table cloth that they dined upon. "Moreau." Her voice was steady but low, a very different demeanor than what she showed just a moment before "I joined the marines for one reason, and one reason alone. I hate pirates and revolutionaries. If I could, I would put a bullet in the head of every single one of them, with no respite or willingness to grant them mercy. I joined the Marines so I could do just that. So, I do believe I could accomplish everything that you wish of me to join the hunting party."

After a brief pause, Aria would take a quick inhale of air, and slap her cheeks a bit to wake up some more "Sorry about that! But yeah, I can do those things easy as all getup!" While her smile returned in full, all life returned to her as if nothing happened- as if the little exchange was nothing but a dream- she couldn't let but panic in her head over how she let out her actual thoughts like that. She really wanted into this hunting party, especially after she learned it lined up with her ideals and goals! She needed to ground herself back in the happy-go-lucky Aria that she built herself to be!

Word Count:

Causing a Commotion

With his arms outstretched the gentleman was eager to examine the girl’s impressive rifle, taking the firearm into his hands he was careful not to scuff it’s surface against his slender metallic fingers. Tracing his more tender hand over the surface of her weapon he was awestruck, this was more than some lowly gun; no, this “Wasteland Blaster” was a deadly work of art, sprung from the mind of a maven gunsmith.

“This is exquisite work…” Moreau muttered incredulously, his steely eyes still excitedly dancing along the aramement’s edges, lengths, and curvatures; beneath the fiery sunset its sturdy gunmetal surface flickered crimson, its supple wooden stock softly glowed beneath the dwindling light. He yearned for a glimpse at this [dass]gorgeous weapon’s inner intricacies[cmt]This passage totally reads like softcore gun porn. XD And is it just me or is there some sexual subtext here following the flirtatious exchanges between Aria and Moreau?[/cmt][/dass], but it would be uncouth to salivate over Aria’s handiwork too much longer, “...[ass=Oh yeah, it was subtext after all.]I’d be happy to see you undre[/ass]–*, I mean, see her assembly! Some other time!”

It was a timely slip of the tongue, and one with a fine gallery of eavesdroppers to listen in; their fellow dining patrons had been glancing over anxiously to the pair’s conversation ever since Aria whipped out her weapon, This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. You’re a mockery of a navy man, can’t even keep your words straight with this audacious little troublemaker! Jean reprimanded himself internally, struggling to retain his composure in spite of the chuckling public’s scrutiny.

Then came another barb, a playful inquiry on the man’s preferences. Though he was plenty accustomed to hearing this sort of joke from his men, it was a bit different hearing it from the lips of a lady; amongst the lads these things were all in good fun, but this coy remark felt more like a challenge, “A bit of etiquette never hurt anybody, perhaps you ought to try it darling…” the term of endearment sounded more like a scandalous insult as it escaped the dandy man’s whiskered lips, “... after all, batting those eyes of yours will only get you so far.”

The gentleman’s sly banter seemed to fall on deaf ears as Aria enjoyed her salmon; it didn’t matter, to Jean seeing a pretty woman enjoying her food was more than enough. For a moment Moreau was lost in a dream, having a lady aboard the ship? To the hopeless romantic nothing seemed finer than the idea of waiting on a woman day after day, even if she was a bit of a menace.

Continuing in our Interview

“A bit of a menace” was an understatement, as the woman answered her second question the malice in her voice rolled over her sunny disposition like cloud cover. Moreau fixed his gaze on hers as she spoke, recognizing in her a pain that seemed familiar, almost nostalgic; with a watery glint to his eyes he shot her a gentle and accepting look before grimacing along with her self-enforced smile, How can this world be so vile? To marr this radiant woman’s heart with such anger; what have you done to her to cultivate this level of hatred? He mused silently to himself [dass]as a single teardrop streamed from his cheek[cmt]A bit too melodramatic, to be honest. This kind of emotion needs to be earned. The brief interaction they've had so far has absolutely not earned it. It feels like you're trying to race towards giving him a deep emotional connection with Aria without laying the necessary foundations in their relationship. It leads to his empathy feeling contrived.[/cmt][/dass].

The dandy dabbed at his face with a lace handkerchief before breaking the solemn silence, “No need to apologize, Miss Aria. If I’ve learned one thing in my dealings with pirates it’s that any act of kindness is seen as weakness when viewed through the eyes of a predator. Only the bright and beautiful things of this world ought to be entitled to such amenities, speaking of which how is the tea? May I ask your beverage of choice?” Moreau inquired, forcing a playful grin across his face in an effort to help the gunslinger gal settle her nerves.

A black tea with a hint of rose and chocolate mint, the gentleman had assembled the blend specially for this interview; it was a malty, rich and floral blend with enough of a kick to keep a drinker on their toes, after all, he wouldn’t want the Recruit dozing off before her practicum. Still, the drink tasted more like an adult’s hot chocolate than some high falutin leaf water.

As Aria answered Jean smiled back to her as he idly glanced out the window; he wished that he could have kept his focus on his companion’s answer, but what he saw quickly replaced the warm feeling in his heart with one of dread and panic, Damn it. I didn’t figure they’d be the punctual types... As his mind raced the Ensign attempted to hold his concentration on Aria, but was visibly distracted, checking his watch, and running a last glance over his notebook, ...nine more questions, ugh, I’ll fabricate the rest of the damn thing if I have to. If we don’t get into it this is about to get ugly.

Abruptly breaking from the table, Moreau loomed to his full height and strode to the side of Aria’s chair, his dress shoes clicking impatiently against the hardwood floor, “Get up and get your things together while I pay the tab. We can finish the interview when we’re through with your practical assessment. Meet me at the door,” as he gave this order the man extended his hand to help Aria up to her feet, rushing over to the restaurant’s counter after doing so.

Scribbling his signature upon the ”modest” tab and tossing a stack of berri to the maitre dame, the alleged gentleman’s behavior bordered on uncivil as he made way for the exit; with a swift and vicious motion he snatched his pink-stained justice coat from the rack before throwing it on across his shoulders. It seems that not all would be subjected to the man’s ill manners, as with his arm bowed Jean held the door open for his Recruit, dutifully awaiting her readiness.

When Aria crosses the door’s threshold the scene unfurling before the Marine duo illustrates itself beneath the last golden rays of sunlight: surly, raucous, and disheveled looking men unload precious cargo with reckless abandon; the pirates furl their black sail until it is rolled tightly, at least they weren’t announcing their affiliation in broad daylight. A tricorned and scraggly-bearded man makes a triumphant proclamation down to his crewmen, [npc=pirt]“Good work boys! This block ain’t protected, so have at! Take yer salary from these lily livers! We got ourselves a bit ‘a time before the big guy gets here!”[/npc]

As dockworkers and fishermen begin to scramble for escape, Moreau pulls a neatly folded stack of wanted posters from his breast pocket, unfolding it and presenting it before his comrade, “Glen C. Flintlocke, better known as Six Pistols Flint captain of the Professional Pirates, an up and coming criminal who made a name for himself as a pistolier down in Briss Kingdom. Word has it that he and his crew have been smuggling goods for the local mafia families, seems the rumors were true…” the gentleman thumbs the corner of the men’s wanted posters, showing off the “Dead or Alive” above each of their names before giving his order, “...call this your first mission as a member of The Hunting Party Recruit Senna! I’ll have your back, but the bulk of the work will be up to you and Miss Wasteland!”

Post Word Count: 1,206
Total Word Count: 3,463

*Author Clarification:

Aria was overjoyed at the prospect that Moreau thought her gun was great! Her smirk widened as she watched him examin the weapon like a toddler who just got a new toy. Seems her new acquaintance was a gun nut as well! Even if she wasn't exactly a weapon-nut, she did enjoy the process of making the weapon, and definitely enjoyed watching someone admire her handy work.

"Why yes, you can undress it~ Take a good look at its insides... later though, obviously, for now though-" she would continue eating the Salmon as she added that, indeed missing almost everything else he had said between her starting the Salmon, and the second question.

~~~

Aria didn't have much time to calm herself though, as her mind continued to tumble through itself as she listened to his reply. While he was an odd fellow-not like she had much wiggle room- she found solace and grounding within his statements on pirates. Her grin spread more, now less conniving and more in agreeance "Yeah! Damn pirates don't deserve squat! Same with those revolutionaries too, bunch of losers!"

At the cheer of losers, she would raise her tea glass in a toast, hoping for acceptance from the fine fellow before taking a drink and finishing her tea off. She didn't normally enjoy tea, but she had to give her new friend a thumbs up and "It's pretty good, if I had to be honest. I don't normally like tea, I'm more of a Cola girl to be honest. Though if I had to guess, you're favorite would be some fancy expensive tea, two sugars and no cream."

While the smirk remained, it seemed her attempts at snark wasn't hitting where it was earlier. She was surprised, usually she was pretty good at it but it seemed she was getting used to his presence a little bit faster than she thought. She would have to fix that later- maybe a prank? A problem for later.

That being said, Aria absolutely noticed his distraction- she was going to say something about letting himself get distracted by some pretty lady walking by, before he stood up. It was at that moment exactly it fully clicked just how tall Moreau was- [dass]probably the tallest individual she had ever seen, if she had to be honest[cmt]That would honestly be surprising, Moreau is 6'10". While that is definitely above the median, far taller humans are not uncommon. Especially in the Navy.[/cmt][/dass].

She stood up on a dime, giving who is her current commanding officer a salute. She was still disheveled, and the salute wasn't exactly proper or anything, but it was better than what her previous quad got from her. She slung her jacket back on her shoulders from the back of her chair, before letting her gun lay across her back, slung across her back with the barrel facing upwards. It was the position she practiced the most grabbing the gun out of, after all.

She was at the entrance, waiting for Moreau to return long before he got there. Granted, he had to make a detour, so it wasn't an outlandish thought, she still made a look as if she had been waiting for awhile. Shoulder on the doorway, looking at a watch that didn't exist, before  throwing her hands up in playful exasperation "There you are! Been waiting for hours!" While she made moves to look annoyed, the smirk remained on her face the whole time.

However, the sight from beyond the door was something that left her stunned. He had this planned? From the beginning? She underestimated him, that's for sure. Still, the smirk on her face grew dark, a mix between a kid being given an amazing birthday present, and a serial killer finding the perfect mark at the same time.  She un-slung her rifle, locking in a semi-normal looking cartridge from her back satchel, giving a simple "Yes, Sir!"

She would position herself quickly behind a nearby crate that was dropped from a sailor, taking aim from over top the crate, and shooting some normal bullets at the pirates, before letting the half full cartridge out from her gun, replacing it with a bright pink cartridge, She would duck beneath the crate as she heard some other Pirates yell about some bitch shooting at them. She could hear the racket of Pirates approach, grinning as they made it almost too easy.

She would kick the crate she hid behind towards the first two that got a little to close to her, stopping them in their tracks and knocking the wind out of them. Leaping onto the crate, she would let out a maniacal laugh, swinging her gun by the barrel like a baseball bat-her gloves shielding her hands from the heat of the barrel- cracking one of their skulls hard enough a spurt of blood could be seen coming from their head.

This would shock the pirate next to him, though Aria gave him no respite, jumping once more, though this time into the other pirate, toppling him over. When landing, she remained standing, placing the barrel of her gun at the Pirates head before pulling the trigger. as the bullet collided next to the pirates head, a small sigh of relief could be heard before the pink substance expanded rapidly, engulfing his head.

Aria would yell, at the top of her lungs to the other pirates "ALRIGHT SCUM, BY MY AUTHORITY AS A MARINE YOU'RE ALL UNDER ARREST! SURRENDER NOW OR I'LL PUT A BULLET IN YOUR HEAD!" a number of the pirates looked to each other, before laughing- both at the fact some of their comrades got taken out by some girl shorter than their smallest, but also that they thought she could scare them.

"Thanks for making the choice fun for me!" She would yell again, before unloading the rest of the magazine into the crowd, yelling out "WASTELAND FOAM OCEAN!" the mass amount of pink foam began to swallow the pirates, their laughter switching swiftly to panic as they realized they weren't able to move nearly as well as they could before. She missed the captain, who ducked behind a building to try and dodge the wide-spread attack.

[npc=pirt]"HEY BITCH!"[/npc] he would yell at her, drawing a six-shooter [npc=pirt]"EAT LEAD!"[/npc] before unloading exactly six shots towards her. While 4 missed, she blocked the other two with the metal end of her gun, a grin widening as she watched him duck back around the corner to reload. Sadly for him, her reload was much faster, she she removed the bubble-gum cartridge and replaced it with a silver one. Taking out a second cartridge, she would lob it towards him, yelling "CORNER WON'T HELP!"

She took a shot at the cartridge, landing the hit dead center after having thrown the cartridge about 25 feet away, letting the red cartridge explode in a ball of fire, catching not only the captain in the blast but some of the restrained pirates as well. Most of the rif-raf was restrained or dead at this point. She would continue to take a few potshots at some pirates who still didn't surrender, laughing as she went yelling "So hows this Blue Jeans! everything you hoped for when wanting to hire me!?"

Word Count:

The embers of the fireball smoldered and smoked like a bonfire, those men lucky enough to survive the chemic onslaught wheezed labored breaths from their unconsciousness; there, at the center of the storm she stood: a cackling madwoman, gloating her carnage like the trophy of a successful hunt, “Everything and more…”

Wide-eyed and trembling, Moreau dabbed his kerchief against his forehead. It was stained with the blood that had splattered against his face, the sanguine byproduct of Aria’s vicious melee; proper examination always requires the examiner to get their hands a bit dirty, but the scene before him was almost as outstanding as it was terrifying, “... Captain Stone will be ecstatic, he may even crack a smile,” the purple-haired gentleman joked but spoke with a grave tone as he turned to face Aria, preparing handcuffs for the men who were coming in warm.

“I misjudged you again, call it a habit…” the gallant fixed a steely glower down on Aria, tucking his bloodied cloth into his breast-pocket with little care, “...I thought that you were motivated by hatred. Perhaps I wasn’t all wrong, but if I had to guess now…” Jean strode slowly towards his comrade as his words crackled amongst the kindling air, leaning in close to finish his sentence.

Cold Hard Truth

Some men were soldiers for fortune, others for fame, others yet for trivial things such as love or revenge; for a man like Guile Fierri the only thing that mattered was his family. His body was living testament to this familial loyalty, in Guile’s years ”enforcing” he’d suffered countless grievous injuries; but by the family’s good graces he could always be built back up, harder, better, faster, and stronger than before.

The Fierri’s dealings had been smooth sailing lately, ”merchandise” was flowing, nobody was asking’ too many questions, people were paying what they owed, and the Navy was minding their own fucking business. Thus, it came as some surprise when the mafioso overheard the sounds of gunshots and explosions echoing down the streets leading into Fierri territory; coincidentally, the same location he was slated to attend for a business meeting, [npc=misc]well well, what are the odds?[/npc]

Despite his enormous frame the lumbering man moved without a sound as he made his way down towards the waterfront, [npc=misc]I wonder who they sent, I hope for their sake it’s some ‘a their finest men,[/npc] the cyborg’s spiky steel knuckles gleamed black beneath the dying light of the indigo skyline as he drew nearer the scene of the massacre.

Seems his business partners had run into major trouble, and even worse: it smelled like some of the cargo was burning, [npc=misc]Damn, and it doesn’t seem like the blues are all over the place. Either it was another family…[/npc] the mechanized man stalked deeper into the fray, moving amongst the bloodshed as though it was his living room, [npc=misc]...or they sent some of their hard-hitters?[/npc] The man had to question himself as he spotted the seeming culprits, a decently built man with an outlandish hairstyle, and a short cowgirl laughing and chattering amongst the chaos.

Baterilla Confidential

“...I’d guess that you just [ass=Not very well-mannered of him.] fucking[/ass] love killing Pirates. Maybe I’m wrong, but that’s the impression I get. Your work is commendable either way, you managed to put their rampage to rest before it even began. If this is the sort of performance we can expect, then I greatly look forward to working with you. Welcome aboard Recruit Senna,” Moreau spoke with a stern, almost accusatory tone as he pronounced the results of the Recruit’s assessment.

After Aria responds, a hulking figure intrudes…
[npc=misc]“Pardon my interruption you two…”[/npc] the hulking figure, standing just over ten feet tall, loomed over Moreau and towered over Aria as he spoke, [npc=misc]“...I don’t suppose you could point me in the direction of a man by the name of Six Pistols Flint?”[/npc]

“What business do you have with such an infamous duelist sir?” Moreau inquired back to the man, irritatedly turning on his heels to face the superior cyborg.

[npc=misc]“There’s two things I don’t like boy…”[/npc] with a sudden motion Guile grabs Moreau, picking him up by the collar of his shirt, [npc=misc]“...backchat, and questions. Now how ‘bout we stick to answerin’ my questions before I have a chat with the lady,”[/npc] a scummy smile sprawled across the block-chinned man’s face as he threatened the pair.

The ensigns eyes shot back and forth between his captor and his feminine compatriot; even if she was plenty capable, Jean would always have a hard time putting a woman in danger. For now he’d go along with the man’s questioning, and hopefully his new Recruit would be able to bail him out, “I’m sure you’ll be enthused to hear that the captain went down with the ship sir. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

[npc=misc]“Well there is one thing, two things really…”[/npc] Guile held Moreau aloft, dangling the dandy several feet above the ground, [npc=misc]“...who did this? And what am I gonna tell my boss about what happened here?”[/npc]

Post Word Count: 841
Total Word Count: 4,304

Aria would give Moreau a wide grin, mostly at his initial response to her performance. She would stand up with a stretch, cracking her back as she would listen to him speak some more. She hadn't heard Captain Stone's name before- Though if she had to assume, he was their commanding officer, and Moreau was just the hiring officer, so to speak.

As she prepped to clean her gun after the violent interlude, taking out the cartridge to inspect for some damage, "While I do love killing Pirates... no, wait, I do just like messing them up. While killing them is great, arresting them so they can rot in a cell is almost as good, usually. Sometimes putting a bullet in their head is just, SO much more satisfying, yeah know? Thanks for taking me aboard!"

As Aria gave Moreau a salute, she would notice the large man approaching them. A concerned citizen, maybe? Her initial thought, while generally wanting to be positive, she noticed all the metallic enhancements. some more subtle than others, though her keen eyes could spot them. She hoped beyond words that these were meant for self-defense, and not for something more nefarious. Though, based on Moreau saying the pirates were dealing with mafioso's...

[dass]Aria watched the cyborg interrogate her new friend[cmt]No comment about she just met a much bigger person so soon after meeting the tallest person she'd ever met?[/cmt][/dass] and ally, and with her blood running on high after the carnage she just displayed, she couldn't sit still if she wanted too. So, the moment his eyes left her, she would twist, using Moreau as human cover, she would spin and kneel at his knee, having swiftly loaded one of her red cartridges in, before taking a shot into his face, the flame rolling up his cheeks, Moreau's purple front-flopping bang singed a bit by the flame as she would swiftly rotate to another cartridge, shooting some pink bubble gum past him, though it would bounce off a crate and push him towards her, slightly off balance.

She would follow this up by turning her gun into a makeshift golf club, yelling "FORE!" and swinging the butt of her rifle into his face, sending him off his feet and back a few feet, landing on his back. "I'm the one who did this, thank you. And you won't get to tell them anything, as you're under arrest. Resisting arrest is punishable by me kicking your ass some more, so come quietly or else!"

Aria would pose above him, legs in a wide stance as her rifle lay across her shoulders, a finger being pointed at him. Her expression was a mix between a smirk and a scowl, showing naivety in that a simple combo would hurt this guy as much as she honestly thought it would.

As he began to get back up, she would grin, taking a few steps back aiming her rifle at him, yelling "Hey Moreau, mind if I get this one?"

Word Count:

Aria Activates Toggle Evasive Maneuvers
Aria uses LT Wasteland Flame Shot on Guile
Aria uses LT Wasteland Bubble Bouncer on Guile
Aria uses LT Iron Butt Bash on Guile

Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses UT on Aria

COMBAT TRACKERS:

The member 'Aria Senna' has done the following action : Dice Roll

---

#1 'Reflex Check' : 4, 13, 13, 1

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

#2 'Reflex Check' : 4, 12, 3, 12

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

#3 'Reflex Check' : 4

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

#4 'Reflex Check' : 9

Jean’s ears rang as he tumbled out of the man’s cold-mechanical grasp and collapsed to his hands and knees, he could barely make sense of what had just happened; the girl’s riflery was a whirlwind of explosions and chemical curiosity, he’d never seen anything quite like it. As he collected himself and staggered up to his feet a sharp voice cut through the ringing: that of his new companion.

“Oof sure…” the man spoke slowly and tensed his fingers against his aching temples as he replied, “...he’s all yours Aria!” Moreau was almost as confident in the woman as she was in herself; in either case, the pair had gravely underestimated the direness of theirsituation.

The mechanized mafioso sat beneath the gunwoman glared up at her with a cold and detached contempt; it was as though he was most frustrated with himself for even dignifying the puny and arrogant woman with his hatred, [npc=misc]“you’ve caused big trouble for such a little lady you know that?...”[/npc] the ten-footer kipped back up to his feet in a disjointed, mechanical, fashion.

With another sudden motion, the man flicked Aria’s hat from the top of her head, more of a bid to wound her pride than an effort to truly hurt her, [npc=misc]“...you won’t catch me off guard again girl. When I’ve crushed your legs and that pesky gun I hope you’ll enjoy your front row seat for the pretty-boy’s skull smashing,”[/npc] the man mimicked cracking his massive cybernetic knuckles as he spoke out this menacing promise.

Still off-balance and disoriented, Moreau watched as the cyborg and Chemshot began their fight in earnest.

Post Word Count: 269
Total Word Count: 4,573

Aria uses AOE Wasteland Foam Ocean on Guile
Aria uses UT on Guile

Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses UT on Aria

COMBAT TRACKERS:

The member 'Aria Senna' has done the following action : Dice Roll

---

#1 'Reflex Check' : 12, 8

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

#2 'Reflex Check' : 18, 19, 6, 14

Aria uses LT Wasteland Foam Breaker on Guile
Aria uses LT Wasteland Bubble Bouncer on Guile
Aria uses LT Wasteland Concussion on Guile
Aria uses UT on Guile

Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses UT on Aria

COMBAT TRACKERS:

The member 'Aria Senna' has done the following action : Dice Roll

---

#1 'Reflex Check' : 10, 13, 7, 12

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

#2 'Reflex Check' : 4, 19, 13, 11

Aria uses MT Wasteland Concussive Barrage
Aria uses LT Wasteland Flare
Aria uses LT Wasteland Iron Butt
Aria uses UT on Guile

Guile uses MT on Aria
Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses LT on Aria
Guile uses UT on Aria

COMBAT TRACKERS:

The member 'Aria Senna' has done the following action : Dice Roll

---

#1 'Reflex Check' : 3, 3, 13, 1

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

#2 'Reflex Check' : 2, 15, 15, 5

Aria uses HT Wasteland Hyperion
Aria uses LT Wasteland Bubble Bouncer
Aria uses UT

Guile uses LT
Guile uses LT
Guile uses LT
Guile uses UT


 

COMBAT TRACKERS:

The member 'Aria Senna' has done the following action : Dice Roll

---

#1 'Reflex Check' : 19, 3, 12

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

#2 'Reflex Check' : 13, 15, 3, 3

Aria wasted no time getting out of the mechanical menace's grabbing range. While she was confident in her abilities, she didn't want to be touched by someone that big. Grabbing her hat mid air, and placing it back on her head, she unloaded a full cartridge of the pink bubble gum-like blasts, spreading the effect wide and over a large area. Her foam ocean didn't seem to slow down the mad mafioso much, but enough to keep her feet on the ground mostly.

His first charge hurt her bad, though as the fight went on Aria was able to play keep away decently well. A mix of her faster and more nimble movements- letting her dodge and return fire, sometimes even using the massive man machine's arms as a spring board to avoid the more serious damage let her stay alive and not take t0o many serious wounds.

As Aria landed after an exchange, she shot out some more of her pink shots, sticking his feet to the ground, and binding some of his joints, resulting in him being unable to move. While he struggled to escape, Aria's normal smile was gone, the pain and adrenaline showing a contorted visage, as she struggled to hold her gun.

'I can't take much more of this...' she thought to herself, her heartbeat pounding in her head, becoming light headed as she couldn't take full breaths as she knew for sure she had a broken rib from a particularly nasty hit. 'This might break my arms, but I need to finish this now!' she thought to herself, as she brought out a black cartridge from her pack- one that Moreau hasn't seen yet- and loaded it up.

Aria would face the gun towards him, the barrel lighting up as she pulled the trigger, as Aria yells at the top of her lungs "WASTELAND SHOT: HYPERioN!" her voice cracking and going hoarse as she shot her bullet, an additional bang coming from the tip of the barrel, her arms jutting back unable to deal with the recoil properly in her weakened state, though Guile took the hit much worse.

As the bullet, moving with much more force than was previously shown from her other concussive bullets, collided with him, a second blast cracked out on his chest, the result causing his chest to collapse in on itself, before the bubble gum substance breaking below his feet, sending him flying back into a wall.

The gale force winds were intense from the blast, knocking Aria onto her back, and her hat flew off her head and to Moreau's feet. As she lay there, panting, she would cough out "Did I get him?" before continuing to cough, spitting out some blood to her side.

As for Guile, his unconscious form halfway through a wall- while he is breathing, his breathes are just as short as Aria's, though no words came from his mouth. For the time being, it seems Aria won the Mechanized Melee vs Guile.

Word Count:

Seeing his newfound ally hurt, Moreau hurriedly scooped up her hat before running to help Aria to her feet, “Yeah, you got him, hell it seems you even managed to take him alive. I’m surprised, all things considered, the big lug has got some serious augmentation to be able to eat a bullet like that. More importantly, are you alright?” A concerned tone underpinned the chivalrous man’s voice as he eyed his comrade over for further injury.

Upon Aria’s answer, Jean notices her hair looking rather unkempt; tussling it before leaning down and returning her hat to its rightful resting place atop her head, “apologies, your hair looks a bit silly without your hat. I’ll call our medic in to give you a checkup and have the other recruits take this guy into custody. In the meantime, would you mind watching over our new friend here while I do some disassembly?”

After making a short snail call, a devilish grin sprawled across Moreau’s face as he procured a set of wrenches and screwdrivers from his coat; normally used to keep his own cybernetics in good condition, they would prove just as effective in dismantling those of cyborgs who stood in opposition to Justice. In the following minutes, the purple-haired nerd detached each of Guile’s prosthetics, throwing the oversized mechanical limbs into a pile beside Aria.

Shortly thereafter, The Hunting Party’s men arrived on the scene. A dweebish looking medic was quick to comment on his new ally’s appearance before properly doing his job, [npc=navy]“Ensign Moreau, may I ask why our new Recruit isn’t in uniform?”[/npc]

“I’d actually prefer that you just do what was asked of you, she has accommodations for the hat, and Man's just shitting all over Marine Guidelines she’s under explicit orders to dress however she damn well pleases… ” the gent replied with an irritable tone and a passive aggressive smile, “...now how about we all do our jobs eh?” The noble clapped his doctor on the back before waving him over to Aria, smirking knowingly to her as though to excuse his man’s rudeness.

The ship’s doctor proceeds to conduct a basic checkup and gives medical attention if needed. Two of the other recruits then collect Guile, carrying the big guy’s limbless torso away on a stretcher, once the medic has finished attending to Aria, Moreau calls over to him, “Now, Doctor Umino, would you please assist the men in carrying the suspect back to the ship?” With his order, the gent gestures to the heavy pile of cybernetics.

Grumbling and struggling to keep all of the prosthetics in his arms as he walked, the medic followed the orders given to him, knowing better than to get on his commanding officer’s nerves twice. Though the Ensign was plenty nice to the men, his passive aggression and cattiness were a bad-side that few wanted to wind up on.

After the men have gone, Moreau looks to Aria with a subtle smile and a gentle warmth in his icy eyes, “You did very well, in all honesty I shouldn’t have left all of this to you alone…” he seems apologetic as he rubs his metallic hand on the back of his neck, “... I guess I got the sense you could handle it, but I’m sorry you were hurt in the process. I don’t think there’s another new recruit that could have pulled that off. I don’t suppose you could go for a drink?”

With his offer, Jean gestures toward a nearby building, “I doubt that fine establishment would still be standing were it not for you. If they wont give you drinks on the house, then I’ll happily foot the bill,” with this, Moreau begins walking towards the bar: a gorgeous brick building upon which lush ivy flourished and flowered.

Post Word Count: 626
Total Word Count: 5,199

"Oh that's good" she began between short gasps, her body shaking under the pressure of collapsed ribs and broken arms. Hell, if she had to guess, she may have a punctured lung. "Glad he's KO'd, was going for a kill, but if the shoe fits, shoot it." She went to give a chuckle, attempting to sit up though it hurting more than it was worth, so she decided to lay back down again. She did raise an eyebrow towards the sky as she overheard the tinkering of metal and the turning of bolts.

She finally decided to force herself to sit up, using her gun to help prop herself up, she noticed someone she could only be described as a massive nerd. He gave a cheeky remark on her outfit, but before she could stand up for herself, Moreau himself used snark to a level that her friends back home would use when upset with someone- and the snark of a teenage girl is not to be messed with.

A snort followed by a series of painful coughing and wheezing was let out, maybe a sign that she shouldn't laugh at someone, but she wouldn't learn her lesson any time soon. Still never expected such a fancy man to wield such passive-aggressive tones- at least not for her. As she watched other Marines who she would soon be getting to know more dragging away the recently disassembled body of Guile, the nerd who she learned was a Dr.Umino lugging the arms away, she would struggle slowly to her feet, the strap of her rifle resting across her neck so she didn't have to use her pained arms.

Aria smirked, as she shuffled towards the well-dressed marine, wincing as she walked, she would eventually grin up at the giant of a man "Nah, don't worry about it Pants. I had it- and if I'm going to continue to use these special 'accommodations' I may as well prove I deserve them. Besides, I ain't gonna let some loser mafioso who's working with scum lower than the bottom feeder crustaceans at the bottom of the sea, talk down to my new friend and boss!"

"And as much as I want to" she began, legs shaking under the pressure of her natural body weight "I am in a lot of pain right now- I think one of my ribs is in a lung, and that last shot broke my arm. I also may have sprained my ankle during the fight- so instead, how about we go back to the ship, get patched up then we can get drinks another day? Or even crack a bottle open on the boat. I just need some serious medical attention. Speaking of-" she began before her legs gave out finally, though she made sure to grab Moreau's pant leg to keep her up "- mind helping me to the nearest med bay?"

As she and Moreau slowly made their way to the ship- a place Aria would soon be getting accustomed to as a home away from home, she would ask one final thing of her new friend- "Don't tell Captain Flint about this..."

Word count: