[Episode] The Old Man and the Boat

Quest Request:

It was early in the morning when Old Man Santiago came knocking at Luka’s tenement door, it was early enough in the morning that the impoverished bounty hunter hadn’t even had time to take the cold hard-water shower that constituted his morning routine. There was no place in Luka’s small apartment to seek refuge from the rapping at his door, and no point in trying to dampen the sound with his dirty, beaten-up pillow.

Standing to his feet from the box spring on his floor, the messy-haired and sunken-eyed Luka made his way to answer his door; he supposed that either his father’s debtors had business, or that he had forgotten to pay some bill or another.

Though he knew he was wrong to feel this way, Luka was a bit relieved when he checked through his peep hole and saw a totally unfamiliar man, who appeared to be sullen and distraught. Luka slid the bolt from his door and opened it a crack, peeking his messy head through and speaking to the man,

“Uh, hello. Do I know you?” The young man spoke groggily.

The old man was relieved that the bounty hunter had answered him, [npc=misc]“Santiago, I’m a friend of Shin’s. He told me you might be able to help me rope up some bounties…”[/npc]

The fisherman procured a small collection of wanted posters, and handed them to the sleepy-eyed man, [npc=misc]“... I’m lookin’ to round up these fellers. The lot stole away with my boat and have been parading it around town, hopefully they shouldn’t be too hard to track down. If you can get ‘em I’ll reward you personally on top of whatever the Bounty Office gives you for ‘em.”[/npc]

Luka shuffled through the stack of papers, looking at each criminal's face and the monetary value associated with their head, “Yeah these guys are all small timers, what’s the bonus you’re gonna cut me?”

[npc=misc]“I’ll give you 10,000,000 Berri if you bring me back the ship intact,”[/npc] Santiago spoke plainly.

The Stray Dog thought over the offer for a moment before throwing his hand out to the old man.

“Alright Santiago, you got yourself a deal,” Luka smirked before retreating back into his apartment with the stack of papers. With his sleep disturbed, the bounty hunter set about his morning routine and began readying himself for the task ahead of him.

Word Count:

‘Slimy’s Dime and Dive’ sat proudly tucked away. A neon sign stood watch over an old cellar door, once vibrant orange and boasting of the bar’s name, it now flickered with the same tired unsteadiness as the patrons lurking within. Rain drops as black as tar and thickened by the polluted murk that floated haze-like above Spider Miles, battered against the weather-beaten door, dying it the same sludge black as the walls around it.  Derelict wood on rusty hinges buried behind trash and factory waste, and sandwiched between dockhouses of Spider Miles’ port district, ‘Slimy’s Dime and Dive’ was a place of discretion.

“So, what have you got for me?” Orion’s steel colored eyes gleamed in earnest anticipation as he watched the man behind the bar lazily clean a haphazard collection of pints and steins. His fingers drummed in matching anticipation against a bar that was surprisingly well-maintained. It stood out among the refurbished furniture and cable-spool tables for its lacquered wood and polished shine.

[npc=misc]”Nothing.”[/npc] Grunted ‘Slimy’ Jack Tullen, gruff for all that his moniker would say otherwise.

”What?! But I gave you all my money!”

[npc=misc]”First rule of information gathering; make sure the informant actually has any information. You just slapped down a bag of Belli and demanded information on free boats.”[/npc] Slimy shook his head, his pompadour glistening with slick pomade under dull bar lamplight.  

Orion muttered "But Winslow said ‘Always ask a barkeeper about rumors and information.’”

[npc=misc]”What is this, a fantasy novel?”[/npc] Slimy scoffed before blinking. [npc=misc]“Who?”[/npc]

”Wahaha. Why Winslow from the book ‘Winslow Barthelowmew’s Insights and Tidbits: How to be a Pirate for Dum-Dums and Ding-Dongs’!” Orion brought out a gaudy leather book and waved it around.

[npc=misc]”Again, who?”[/npc]

”You don’t know Winslow Barthelowmew’s work? He sold nineteen copies!”

[npc=misc]”I don’t think that is a good thing.”[/npc]

”I have the collector’s edition.” Orion boasted as if that explained everything.
”So..”

[npc=misc]”So?”[/npc]

”Can I have my money back?”

[npc=misc]”Heh, nice try, punk. How would you learn your lesson without consequences?” [/npc]

”Tch..” Orion spun around on his bar stool, light green hair flowing with the motion. He rested his elbows on the bar and leaned back against it, taking in the rest of the dive.

Patrons sat about in small groups speaking quietly. An eclectic sort looking for a place to relax where anonymity was at the top of the menu. One group, larger than the rest, was growing rowdier by the second. Already, the red flush of alcohol decorated their faces and sneers of pride raised the octave of their voices.

[npc=pirt]“Bahahaha! You should have seen the look on that old shits’ face!”[/npc] One spoke up over the group, his most discernible feature being a crooked nose from a bad break.

Another chimed in, bald save the tattoo of a realistic brain on his head. ”Heehee… he crumbled once we got our hands on his daughter! Next thing you know, he was giving in to all our demands! Shame that. His daughter was quite the looker…”

[npc=pirt]”Bahaha! The boss will be pleased by the ship we bring him. It's more than enough for us to get off this trash heap!”[/npc]

[npc=pirt]”A toast to us!”[/npc]”Cheers!””Kampai!” The group collided their mugs together in a slosh of booze.

Orion quickly schooled the scowl growing across his face, and applied a thoughtful expression. ”So Winslow’s advice was correct after all…”

[npc=misc]”No, it really wasn’t.”[/npc] Slimy can't help but feel like he is getting caught up in Orion’s pace.

Orion shuffled himself off the barstool and collected his things. He fashioned a large metal umbrella–easily as tall as him–to his back from where it had rested against the bar and flashed ‘Slimy’ Jack a toothy smile.

”Thanks for the help, Slimes”

[npc=misc]”Don’t call me that..”[/npc]

”Always a pleasure, Slimes!”

[npc=misc]”We’ve never met before.”[/npc]

Orion just waved from over his shoulder.

Word Count:

The pallid-faced, sunken-eyed man strode down the streets of Spider Miles with a bleak intensity in his eyes; those who saw him walking by avoided him, he didn’t necessarily look like a criminal, but he looked sick and angry enough to steer well clear of. While he was happy to earn his next sack of berri, the morning sun’s orange gleam filtered through the city’s smog and stung his eyes; he far preferred the night, if there wasn’t work to be done he would have gladly slept in until the afternoon.

[I’ll see what I can find down in that trashed old bar crawl, but first…[i] Luka came upon the object of his ire, the door of Shin’s ramen shop, the man who had led him to being awake at this ungodly hour of [i]9AM. He knocked loudly on the door of the establishment, which opened at 10; as a close friend of the proprietor, Luka also knew that the man lived in the tenement above the shop.

“Open up Shin!” The stray dog shouted with atypical boisterousness as he pounded his fist against the door of the eatery.

Shuffling could be heard from behind the portal, along with the grumbling voice of the curmudgeonly noodle shop owner. After a few minutes, the shop’s front door creaked open, and Luka was met with the wrinkled, disgruntled face of Shin.

“Luka, what are you doing here? I have to open soon, is this about Santiago?”

“No! Well, kind of. Did you really have to send him over so early?!”

A moment of silence passed between the two. The shop owner contemplated how a poor man could be so entitled as to sleep in until noon every day.

Shin slammed his door in Luka’s face and slid the latch shut, going back to his opening routine as though the young nuisance hadn’t darkened his doorstep in the first place.

Luka grit his teeth, he would bear with the indignity of the morning, but only because there was money on the line. Quickly, the bounty hunter jaunted off of the old man’s stoop and began jogging towards the bar crawl, it was not long before he had reached the derelict little corner of dive bars and red lights.

He ventured into establishment after establishment, and was met with little help from their tenders…

“Get lost jackass!” The unfriendly inquisitive was kicked out of a rough and tumble bar, asking too many questions wasn’t looked kindly upon…

“What would my girls have to do with any of that young man? Now, either pay for a room or scram!” Luka backed away nervously from the buxom madam, and bumped into a young lady on his way out, his face going flush as he apologized and ran from the whorehouse…

[npc=pirt]“Get on outta here before I fuck you up kid!”[/npc] The gruff, gravelly-voiced owner of the portside bar stabbed a large and sharp-looking knife into his already well-scuffed countertop, and the bounty hunter very quickly realized that everybody around him was a pirate. He fled the scene before he could get himself too far in over his head.

He turned the streets over looking for a lead, until eventually, he came to a dimly lit cellar door that led into some grimy looking establishment.

Slimy’s Dime and Dive… Luka scoffed at the name of the place, … hell, at least they’re honest. But who the hell is Slimy?

Word Count:

Orion hadn’t really drawn any eyes as he moved himself closer to the brigands. For all the posturing they had been doing they were about as aware as a pile of rocks. He placed himself near the door at an unoccupied table close enough to hear them even listening. He rocked back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head with eyes closed in a sort of relaxed confidence, as if he hadn’t just swindled himself with Slimy.

Orion has never considered himself a beacon of justice. Most of the time, he was just getting by. He had to admit to himself he didn’t like what he had heard so far. He understood thieving. In Spider Miles that was just par for the course, but their methods left a sour taste in his mouth.

'It’s just another form of oppression.' Orion realized. They hadn’t earned it, the ship. Not really. Not through ingenuity, nor guile. They had used power. Orion had been at the receiving end of such power before, he didn’t care for it. No, he abhorred it.

His life so far had molded within him a sort of al la carte sense of ethics. His foster father Nato, a merchant by trade, lived in the transactional. The only altruism he’d ever seen was through Nato and how he treated Orion and his men. Orion didn’t believe he had the position or the power to provide the same.  

'So I take them down for the victim, and collect the ship as payment.' It wasn’t stealing, it wasn’t oppression, it was payment for services rendered. Purely transactional. If Nato had taught him anything it was that a man had to have a code. Orion felt this line of thought was the makings of his own.

Their voices broke Orion out of his pondering.

“I reckon we got time for another round before the kid reaches the boss and we gotta meet ‘em at our new ship.” Brainface, as Orion was dubbing him in his mind, stated.

[npc=pirt]“One round for you, maybe, with those little sips.”[/npc] BrokenNose jabbed.

“I have an alcohol sensitivity, you know that!”

[npc=pirt]“Bahahahaha”[/npc]

Word Count:

It was just then that the door of the establishment flung open, the pallid-faced intruder’s appearance carried with it the aura of unwelcome authority. For pirates, criminals, and ne’er-do-wells of all sorts, this guy seemed like he was bad news.

The ship thieves quickly settled down, quietly mean-mugging the man as he made his way toward Slimy’s bar. The turquoise-eyed man shot a glare back at the table before putting his hands down upon the bar, and asking in a somewhat loud and exasperated tone:

“You’re Slimy I presume? I’m looking into a matter concerning the recent robbery of a ship…”

The words echoed icy cold down through the rest of the room. The hottest-tempered amongst the pirates bit their tongue for the moment.

“... I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything regarding the matter?’

[npc=misc]“Listen guy, I don’t want any trouble. Would you mind taking your inquiry elsewhere?”[/npc] Slimy spoke nervously, eyeing the gun on the man’s belt and the knife stashed away into one of his boots.

“Yeah! And what’s it to ya punk?” One of the pirates stood up from the table and pointed aggressively toward Luka, his skull tattooed with a realistic brain, and his face clearly red from having consumed too much booze.

“I’ll try to minimize the damages…” Luka spoke casually to slimy, throwing a stack of Berri onto the table before shuffling through his stack of wanted posters and eventually settling upon one page in particular, “... yeah, I thought this dork looked familiar. Brainiac: Ramirez Y. Cofresí.”

“Hey! I heard that! Don’t dirty my name with whatever rumors you’re goin’ around lookin’ for jerkoff! Who the hell are you anyways?” The man drew a knife from his belt and pointed it towards the intruder.

“My name is Luka Tepes, and by the authority invested in me as a two-star bounty hunter, for the crimes of arson, murder, assault, theft and suspected grand larceny, you’re under arrest Cofresí!” Luka whipped his own knife out from his boot and was quick to engage the man in combat, there was no time to waste now that the cat was out of the bag. Luka sprinted toward the Cofresí, and spun his foot into a kick aimed at the man’s “brain” before standing back into a more conventional knife-fighting posture.

“Alright you little shit, you think we’re a bunch of no-name thugs you can just stomp your boot all over? I’ll kill you!” Brainiac took great pride in his tattoo, and was furious to see it sullied with the stamp of another man’s footprint.

Though Luka was a good fighter, it didn’t take long for “Brainface” and a couple of his goons to get the bounty hunter held up by his arms; from that point, it looked like it was gonna be a three-on-one assbeating for the cold-eyed investigator.

Cofresí quickly confirmed that suspicion, throwing a mean right hook into Luka’s kidney.

Word Count:

”Hit him Brainiac!” One of the lackey’s shouted in malicious glee.

[npc=pirt]”Hit ‘em again!”[/npc] BrokenNose didn’t feel the need to rise above the chaff.

”Yeah, hit him!” Orion chimed in from beside BrokenNose. These guys really weren’t aware.

[npc=pirt]”Eh?”[/npc] BrokenNose turned to stare at Orion, who in turn, stared blankly back.

”Eh?” Orion scratched his chin with a finger before grinning.  ”Add headbutt!”

Dome met nose in a crunch and scream. Orion quickly capitalized on the moment, sweeping out his umbrella like a blunt axe and smashing BrokenNose across the bar. Like skipping stones, he bounced before crashing into refurbished furniture and the farthest wall. To add insult to injury, a precariously balanced shelf dropped its payload of musty books and miscellaneous junk in a one-two-three combo.

Silence stilled the quickly escalating conflict and surprise paused it. All until Slimy’s voice echoed in the barren dive.

[npc=misc]”Goddamnit!”[/npc] Slimy expressed his severe displeasure only for Orion to wave him off, albeit with cheek.

”Put it on our tab, Slimes!”

[npc=misc]”TAB?! I don’t know either of you!” [/npc] Rage checkered his face, while his ever immaculately slimed pompadour started to ooze pomade like lava down a soon to erupt volcano.

Orion ignored Slimy’s exasperation with a parent’s patience towards a child’s tantrum. Humming, he completely pretended his anger wasn’t totally justified.

Orion took this moment to get a good look at this ‘bounty hunter’. He wasn’t sure what to make of this man, gaunt and pale but with a confidence that spoke of strength. He had waltzed in and had immediately caused chaos. Not Orion’s preferred method of chaos-making, but… game respects game. It also helped that this man seemed to have Orion’s new mark’s number and Nato had really enforced the idea of taking hold of any opportunity. Merchant-minded, he always said.

Orion reached his hand out to the man to help him to his feet, a toothy smile on his face.

“So… you got a name in that little collection of yours for that guy?” Orion thumbed over his shoulder in the direction of the man slowly and staggeringly getting to his feet.

”The one whose nose looks like it lost a fight with a wall.” Orion explained. ”Oh! I get it now.”

Word Count:

Luka coughed up a mouthful of blood, looking to the man who had rescued him from worse damage; a single tear welled in the corner of the stray dog’s eye, perhaps from the pain of the internal damage he’d suffered, perhaps from the spark of camaraderie he felt toward the man who had freed him.

Unbeknownst to Luka, this teardrop was quite a fortunate one, as it streaked down his neck, all the way down to his torso where the tear’s healing properties were sufficient to nurse some of the trauma that had been dealt to the young man’s innards.

Though he heard the goofy-looking dude’s question, the bounty hunter didn’t have much time to give an answer before another one of Brainiac’s punches came flying down toward his head.

Just in the nick of time, the darkly-dressed man sidestepped the incoming strike and threw his own arm up into a defensive striking form, seeming to knock the man on his brain before the man went tumbling, cursing backwards:

“What’s your problem jackass? Do ya really gotta keep scuffing up the ink?!”

Luka looked to his new compatriot, speaking to the person he considered most important before turning his attention back to the riff-raff, “Yeah, the guy with the ugly face? Blackjaw, José Gaspar, another member of these guys’ gang: The Weird Science Pirates. He’s a cyborg, that’s about the most I can tell ya about him…”

Brainiac charged towards the pair with a knife, Luka drummed his hands on the holster of his revolver before, deciding it best not to use lethal force. The bounty hunter wrenched the knife out of the man’s hands, and threw the muscled drunkard back over his shoulder before kicking him in the skull.

The pirate, having fought through harsh battles in the proving grounds of the North Blue, caught his fall and immediately stood back up unphased, except his growing frustration with the ongoing disrespect of his tattoo,“You really think you twerps stand a chance against us? Even if you do win, you’ll make an enemy of Lord General Vernon for life! Touch my head again one more time and see what happens you little bastard!”

“... ugh, and do you have a way to deal with this guy? I’m not trying to start a gunfight. For a guy with a big target painted on his head you’d figure he wouldn’t complain so much, the thick-headed moron ought to be used to it by now.”

As soon as Orion was finished responding, “Brainface” appeared right in front of the two almost instantly, looming over the pair with a dark glint in his eye, “who’re you callin’ a moron little man? I’m a certified god damn genius.”

With this, Braniac slammed the two men’s heads together with great force. Luka lurched over, barely clinging to consciousness and struggling to regain his balance, bracing against one of the nearby tables.

Word Count:

Orion would never admit it, but he definitely passed out for a second with that head on collision. The world had lost its focus. He watched his vision go white at the edges and he could fill the pull of a fitful slumber…ba-dump…ba-dump…

Two heart beats, and then the world came screaming back with all the violence of a flashbang. Having your bell rung, as Orion can now confirm, does in fact come accompanied by a ringing.

As his eyes cleared and his surroundings came into crisp clarity once more, Orion took stock of the situation.

To his left; his new compatriot was stumbling and trying to right himself against a nearby table. Back turned and exposed. Orion had stumbled as well, but, perhaps, their differences in height had saved his course, leaving him in a better position to act.

Straight ahead; ‘Brainface. No. Cofresi, the bounty hunter, had called him. He deserved more of Orion’s attention now. That had been too dangerous, and if the man in question wasn’t so busy gloating over his new friend, Orion probably wouldn’t have had this moment to act.

”Heeheehee.. You pissants! You don’t have any respect! You know how painful it is to get a full skull tattoo?! That should be all you need to know… to NOT MESS WITH ME!” Cofresi was practically howling in glee as he stomped toward the bounty hunter. Even Orion had to admit that the Luka fellow really had earned his ire.

”Oi. Brainface!”

Brainiac Cofresi turned at the taunt. Whipcord muscle pulled taut as he exploded forward towards Orion, face promising extreme malice.  

”You just don’t learn…heeehee!”

Orion narrowed his eyes, ignoring the blood that slowly trickled down his brow. Oh, he definitely got hit harder than he thought.

He tensed. This was the tricky part.. He was still getting the timing.

“Yardsale Stance.”

Flourishing his umbrella in a gentle spin, he brought it to rest. Most of its heavy metallic bulk lay against the hardwood. Its canopy pulled closed. The umbrella seemed more like a large bo-staff at the moment and Orion would use it to full effect.

Shift and build, pushing with his mind like he had practiced so many times. He could feel the fruit’s power build on the edge of his awareness, almost like a sixth sense. The umbrella’s surface grew rough, and rougher, and rougher still

Now.

”Antique Collection… Obsidian Axe!”

Burst forward with strong thighs. Umbrella dragging, the friction of its surface wrending a great trench in the hardwoods as the metal grew red-hot from the clash of physical forces at work. Glowing like the embers of a raging flame, the haft of the irregular weapon sang of danger.

Orion was upon Brainaic now. He could see his own reflection in what remained of the polish of his cranium tattoo.

Stop, turn and reverse. Stop his momentum. Turn into the swing. Reverse the friction. Instantly he can feel the tension on his umbrella drop. His vertical swing, once weighed down by increased friction of his own making, now cut through the air–eerily quiet yet screaming hot. Frictionless, like the wickedly sharp edge of a mastercraft blade, the umbrella slashed into Cofresi from waist to clavicle, subsequently blowing him backwards in a shower of blood.

Orion forced himself to relax his stance, he twirled his umbrella as the blood slipped off without resistance before fastening it to his back in a clever application of friction.

[npc=misc]”Not the hardwoods!”[/npc]

Word Count:

The stray dog heard only the sound of something grinding roughly against hardwood followed by the sound of Cofresí’s screaming; one his faculties had returned to him, he looked to the bloody aftermath of the umbrella-fighter’s handiwork.

“Shit! Did you kill him? They’re worth more warm!” The bounty hunter cried, confused, concussed, and a bit distraught. Even ignoring his general preference for nonlethal takedowns, the difference between a dead body and a living suspect could be the difference between being able to afford running water or not for the month.

The two didn’t have long to moralize before their remaining problem made itself evident: standing back up from the wreckage, his arms segmented with fists dangling down from lengths of chain, Blackjaw, José Gaspar. The pirate began whirling his “arms” in large, sweeping circular motions, eventually gathering enough speed to destroy a table that stood in his way as he walked toward the enemies of his crew.

The splinters of the table flew back behind the man, as though they had been put through a woodchipper.

Suddenly, the cyborg wrenched his arm into a fixed position, and one of his flail-fists was set loose, flying toward Orion with inhuman momentum. The broken-nosed bastard smiled a wide and toothy grin as he swung to get his revenge on the little rat that had sent him tumbling across the bar.

As Luka saw the cyborg’s bludgeon flying through the air, he returned to full lucidity and tumbled up onto the nearby table, “alright asshole, let’s see how you like this!”

The bounty hunter had little way to contend with a cyborg in a fair fight, so he did what a cornered animal sometimes had to: he played dirty. Luka swept up a collection of glass-steins from the table and began hurling them down toward the arm that the cyborg was still swirling.

A spray of broken glass was sent flying through the air like a cascade of crystalline seaspray; what at first, almost looked beautiful, was shortly punctuated by the sounds of Gaspar’s agonized screaming.

[npc=pirt]“MY EYES! YOU DIRTY BASTARD! YOU SHREDDED MY EYES!”[/npc]

“You should have gotten them replaced. I guess now you’ll have to,” the cold-eyed man spoke with a callous and uncaring demeanor. Looking upon the results of his unconventional fighting with a bit of satisfaction; he’d hit the cyborg the one place it seemed to hurt. It was evident from the rest of the wounds that had been left all across Blackjaw that he was more metal than man, bits of armor shone through from beneath his torn skin.

[npc=pirt]“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW RARE AND EXPENSIVE CYBERNETIC EYE REPLACEMENTS ARE? I’M BLIND FOR LIFE MAN!”[/npc]

“Gurara-naru-naru!…” the stray dog barked out an uncontrollable cackle, smiling wide across his face before speaking back to Gaspar, “... sucks for you man.”

Word Count:

Squatting to the floor, Orion shook his unruly head of light-green hair. His unkempt hair fell about him in waves, with just enough tied back in a lazy pony to keep out of his steel-gray eyes. Eyes which were currently observing the cyborg writhing around in pain upon the ground like a snake with its head removed. In a sense, its head had been removed. Using the finial of his umbrella, Orion poked at the cyborg with all the curiosity of a child observing a jellyfish washed up to shore.

Poke. Poke.

”You’re a pretty brutal guy, huh?” Orion commented towards Luka, more a statement than a question, completely ignoring the fact he had also just partaken in this particular brand of chaos.

Poke. Poke.

Orion looked up at Luka, still standing upon the table from where he rained glassy destruction.

”Name’s Orion by the way. Orion Montgomery. Collector and Antiquarian by passion. Eccentric by choice.”  Orion bowed formally and smiled a friendly grin, his canines sharp enough to give him an almost hungry visage..

[npc=pirt]”Wahh… please stop. Whoever is poking me…please… Haven’t I suffered enough?”[/npc]

Poke. Poke.

”I’m assuming since you are carrying that book of faces you are after these guys. A bounty hunter, yes?”

[npc=pirt]”Whimper…stop the poking. My eyes. Poking. Eyes. Stop. Please.”[/npc]

Poke. Poke.

[npc=pirt]”GODDAMNIT! I SAID STOP!”[/npc] Despite being blinded, the haptic feedback of an umbrella on the cyborg’s metallic skin was enough for him to determine its location and smack it away with his mechanical amalgamation of a body.

”Rude.”

Orion was really tempted to poke him one more time. He definitely considered it, perhaps for far too long, before sighing and rising to his feet. He turned and once more leveled his gaze at Luka. All of his attention focused on the man. Friendly, casual, and relatively carefree despite standing within a center of violence, further, with bare feet on top of blood.

How anyone could be so blithe in such a situation spoke to a past gruesome enough where such a thing had become commonplace. Orion had long ago decided to not let such things weigh him down. Thinking about whether or not this particular brand of apathy would eventually catch up with him, well, that’s for the birds. And Orion hates birds.

”That’s perfect, honestly. I’ve been looking for these guys as well. That captain of theirs... Lord What's-their-face? Yeah… they have something that belongs to me.”

Word Count:

Luka was frustrated with the poor impression he’d obviously made on the man who had intervened in his beating, he never hoped to be known as a cruel man; but in situations like this, playing nice just couldn’t get the job done, he could only wish that he didn’t take so much pleasure in a job well done.

The black-haired man walked over to Orion, eyeing the downed Jose as the young man prodded at him, “Brutal…”

He supposed the characterization wasn’t too off-base. When he’d chucked those glasses at the cyborg’s whirling arm he hadn’t considered just how many chunks of crystal would wind up embedded in the guy’s face.

“... yeah I guess. I don’t have much of a way to deal with the cyborgs and monsters walking around all over the place, so I gotta work with what I got. Speaking of which, nifty little ability you got there; you’re lucky you didn’t get cursed to walk around looking like a giant duck all the time, you’re one of the normal lookin’ power users.”

Luka found the green-haired man’s power rather curious; though the stray dog didn’t exactly understand what the young man had been doing, he could tell that whatever it was allowed him to make use of a simple umbrella as a deadly weapon.

The stray dog was eager enough to have the man’s help on his mission, speaking to answer his newfound ally Orion’s question regarding the stack of papers he was carrying around, “Indeed. Call me Luka, I’m a bounty hunter, I’ve still got business with these assholes, and I still can’t tell if you killed one of ‘em…”

When the turquoise-eyed man heard that Orion had misplaced something with Lord General Vernon. He couldn’t tell if he was dragging a scoundrel into his work, but if the rest of the small-timers on the wanted posters were anything like the first ones he’d run across, he’d need all the help he could get.

“... alright Montgomery, if you’d like to get to the bottom of whatever business you have with these lowlifes follow me. I think we’ve caused more than enough trouble here, best take the gritty business back to the alleyway,” Luka put on a black glove before carefully dusting the man’s chest loose of glass, once he was confident enough that he wouldn’t injure himself in the process, the bounty hunter threw the cyborg pirate over his shoulder and began walking for the exit of the bar.

[npc=pirt]“Why’d it gotta be me?”[/npc] The now blind cyborg whimpered pathetically.

Before departing, Luka spoke a final word back to Slimy, “Consider my part of this covered. I apologize for the glassware, I hope what I gave you’ll cover it. As for the other guy, if he’s dead, I didn’t have any part in it.”

He wasn’t terribly confident in this. In all honesty, the place looked much more brutalized than any of the cash the poor man had cleared out of his wallet could have possibly covered.

Word Count:

Orion watched the bounty hunter pick up the large cyborg, appendages dangling like a kite without string, in a casual display of strength that he wasn’t expecting from the thinner man. Shrugging at Luka’s actions, he laced his fingers together behind his head and followed the bounty hunter out of the dive and into the maze of alleyways that made up this section of Spider Miles.

In the absence of their departure, one spirit-broken bartender and owner stared at the wasteland of what was once their bar. What few patrons they had, had fled in the interim period of the earlier scuffle, none had been interested in the attention it would bring and sought their respite elsewhere.

The whole range of emotions warred across Slimy’s face before settling on defeat. Slimy could imagine a tumbleweed bouncing across the space.

[npc=misc]”What the actual fu–”[/npc]

Meanwhile, Orion had followed Luka towards an alleyway where he had unceremoniously dumped their captive to the ground, as battered as the cobblestones they fell upon. The alleyway was hidden from the main streets and any pedestrian traffic, Orion noted, and the large amounts of trash and factory debris would muffle any sounds. The man knew his trade well.

Orion stewed on Luka’s previous comments.

”If you are looking for a means…You should use an umbrella!” He brightened, his gray eyes glinting happily.

”Oh.. But then we would have to fight. It’s common sense that when two Umbrella Wielders meet, a battle of skills ensues.” Orion explained, dropping his fist into his palm while nodding.  

”As far as the fruit goes, I didn’t really have much of a choice. But you’re right… I’d rather die than be a flipping bird. Cats and snakes are cool though, natural bird hunters.”

Orion stared down at the pirate-borg leaning against the wall, whimpering to himself.

”How do you want to do this? I can’t say I have ever been on this side of the torture dynamic before. Torture-relationship? Torture-ship? Argh… that's gunna bug me.”

Orion subconsciously readjusted the long black scarf around his neck, the extra lengths streaming behind him. He caught himself and hoped Luka didn’t notice the causal movement that revealed the nail length scars covering his neck before the fabric buried them away again.

Word Count:

“Hmm? Torture?” Luka looked down with cold eyes at the slumped ‘borg before turning his gaze back to orion.

“I think the guy’s suffered enough. At this point I doubt we’d get much out of him anyway. No, I have a preferred method for handling these matters…”

The bounty hunter walked up to the slumped man, and swiftly whipped his gun out of his belt, pointing it down at Jose’s head, “... listen bud, your poster says you’re wanted dead or alive, how do you want to do this?”

Now that he wasn’t within the walls of an establishment, Luka felt free enough to use his firearm. Though in truth, he was all but certain that he wouldn’t need to.

With a fearful, trembling voice, the brutalized pirate stammered out his response, [npc=pirt]“w-wait what?! No! P-p-please don’t kill me! What do you guys want?!”[/npc]

Luka narrowed his eyes with a hint of scrutiny as he looked back to his more rough-and-tumble compatriot, “Alright, Orion. You go first, what business did you have with these guys?”

Word Count:

”Hrnnnnn…..” Orion centered his whole being on the cyborg.

[npc=pirt]”Sniffle..huck..huck..”[/npc]

”Oi! Robot Boy!” Orion called out in his best authoritative voice, as he lightly kicked the man’s boot to pull him out of his depressive spiral.  Oriel tried to channel Jeeves and the voice he used to relay orders to his foster father’s staff.

[npc=pirt]”Eeee!”[/npc] Their captive, for what it's worth, immediately came to attention at his voice.

”Where’s your captain?!” Orion asked, not at all stating his business.

[npc=pirt]”Snif…”[/npc] Through sniffles and tears, he replied in a broken manner.
[npc=pirt]”L..lllor…Lord General..V..vv...Vernon, he’ll be at our shi..ship. Dockhouse 5, Smog Pier.”[/npc] Spitting out those words, he grew quiet outside of the whining.

”Wow… that was easy! Nice job, Luka!” Orion flashed Luka a victory sign.

”Your turn, I guess?”  

Word Count:

Luka furrowed his brow as the cyborg answered his newfound buddy’s question; Orion had asked the man just about everything that Luka needed to know, but he hadn’t given the bounty hunter any better of an idea of what exactly his business with these pirates was. He was growing more suspicious by the moment.

“Sure, alright Jose, one last thing. You all still have Santiago’s boat and his daughter, correct?”

[npc=pirt]“Y-yeah! The old guy? We’ve got the boat and his daughter, Vernon’s keeping everything down by that Dockhouse until we set sail!”[/npc] The cyborg was still jittery as he spoke, but once he’d finished giving this answer, Luka lowered his gun from the man’s temple.

“Alright Orion, I’m pretty sure I know the docks this guy is talking about. Can you go back into Slimy’s and grab that guy you might’ve killed, Brainiac? The bounty office is on the way down to those docks, help me carry that guy over and I’ll cut you some of the berri,” the stray dog rubbed his brow with his forefingers, he was frustrated at the money that was leaking out of his pockets at every turn this morning, but hopefully if he could bring the old man his boat back it would all be worth it.

Word Count:

Orion smiled toothily and rubbed the back of his head at Luka’s words.

”Aw. Well, that is awfully kind of you Luka, but I think I am fine without the bounty. No need to cut away some of your profits for little old me. Wahahaha!” Orion laughed boisterously, slapping Luka’s back a bit too excitedly for it to be as gentle as Orion intended.

”I’ll be back faster than you can say– ‘birds are bastards.’” He put up a wave over his shoulder as he headed back towards Slimys.

---

Orion hummed to himself as he looked at the pirate resting against ‘Slimy’s Dime and Dive’ door. ‘Brainiac’ looked hastily thrown out of the bar, as they lay in a heap of limbs. A poorly scrawled note was stuck to his forehead, hiding the now thoroughly scuffed tattoo.

The note read:

[npc=misc]’You know who you are. DON’T COME BACK. You have made Slimy’s Shit List. Leave me and my happy place alone. AGAIN, DO NOT COME BACK!”[/npc]

”What a peculiar guy, that Slimy.” Orion shook his head and chuckled.

Orion decided to leave the note for Luka, and threw Brainiac over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He noted, once Brainiac rested on his shoulder that his body wasn’t cold, and he could feel the slight whisper of uneven breathing.

’What a tough guy. Should help out Luka at least.’ Orion repositioned the man on his shoulder and headed back towards Luka.

---

”Back! Did you say it?!”

Word Count:

With the sharp impact to his back and Orion’s strange turn of phrase, Luka was set a bit off-balance as Orion went to grab Brainiac.

“Birds are bastards?...” Luka muttered the phrase to himself, “... what’s this guy’s problem with birds?” The bounty hunter was honestly a bit fond of the city’s birds, even though he'd had his head shat on by pigeons a couple times, the small murders of crows that sometimes flew the city’s streets were always a welcome sight.

As soon as he’d finished his sentence, the green-haired miscreant had returned as if appearing from thin air, with the unconscious body of Cofresí on his shoulders.

“I– I did say it yeah. Mostly because I’m confused…” now that the duo had apprehended their bounties, Luka began walking and leading the way toward the nearby bounty office, “... what’s the deal with birds? Why do you hate ‘em?”

Meanwhile, Down in the Dingy Dockhouses of Smog Pier

The boat rocked gently against the wood of the nearby docks; bound and held captive, the well-loved vessel almost seemed to be trying to sway away from its thieves, only being prevented from making its escape by the hempen ropes that kept it tied in place. The humble but full-featured fishing vessel carried a name fit for a galleon: the Santa Maria; Santiago had piloted many ships throughout his career as a fisherman, and she had been the culmination of his life’s work: a sturdy, reliable, and comfortable fishing boat.

But now his life’s work, as well as his adopted daughter, were all in the hands of low-life thugs.

Sofia sat in the warehouse, her limbs bound, and tied to a chair; her mouth remained unbound, only for the fact that if she screamed the General’s pirates would quickly silence and beat her. The hot-headed 19-year-old’s mind brewed with fiery proclamations of doom and hatred, but using all of her discretion, the redhead kept her mouth shut.

Still, Lord General Vernon von Voet could feel the girl’s hateful gaze on the back of his neck, the well-armored man turned back toward her; his massive cannon arm-replacement weighted his footsteps to the right as he ambled over to her chair.

“What’s the matter Sofie? Aren’t you excited? Once we’ve got your old man’s ship sold we can leave for the high seas, and you can be my Pirate Queen…” the middle-aged pirate ran his coarse fingers through the girl’s, and leaned in to whisper his next words into her ear, “... stealing little ships like your dad’s is just the beginning of my empire girlie. Our crew’s name, the Brotherhood of Victory, will be known and feared all across the North Blue.”

Sofia wasn’t going to put up with the old creep’s shit. And threw all of her weight into a sharp headbutt to the man’s chin, “I’ll never be your girl, you old slimeball!”

Vernon was sent reeling from the force of the girl’s rebellious attack.

But he was a pretty tough guy, physically at least; emotionally speaking, he certainly wasn’t above hitting a woman. Reeling back with his fleshier hand, the pirate captain slapped the girl hard enough that she and her chair were sent tumbling down to the ground. The impact mark of the man’s palm had imprinted itself well into the young lady’s pretty, freckled, face.

Word Count:

”What isn’t the problem with birds?” Orion practically yelled, appearing oddly offended at the question.

”The smug-looking bastards fluttering around on their high horse.  Free to go anywhere the wind takes them, but they choose…. Choose to be here?!” Orion felt himself heating up, but he had a willing listener so there was no real reason to stop expounding on the virtues of bird-watching. Watching and observing. Observing and annihilating.

”What possible reason would they have to be here if it wasn’t to just look down on us?! Taunting us with their stupid weird, long, pointy, and lipless mouths.”

This tirade of his continues for some number of blocks as Orion follows Luka through the winding path towards the bounty hunter office.

”And they have the gall. Nay! The audacity to just poop wherever?! You know how many good sleeping boxes of mine they ruined!”

And continued…

”I’m telling you… they are only good for a laugh when they fly face first into glass. And even then… Think about the inconvenience of damaged glass!”

And continued…

”They just take whatever they want, Luka!”

Orion was huffing at this point, steam coloring his breath. As much as he loved shitting on birds, as much as they shit on everything else, he had noticed their arrival in front of the bounty office. Now Orion loved playing the fool, he knew he really shouldn’t go in there. Perhaps, it was best to lean even more into this.

”Case and point!” Orion pointed emphatically at a flock of pigeons gathering around a split merchant cart making its rounds.

The stall vendor waved frantically to chase them away, using a broom in an attempt to scare them. As soon as she sent a few flying, others returned during her dogged pursuit of the few to pick at the grain spilled upon Spider Mile’s cobbles.

”Those don’t belong to you!”

Orion searched frantically for something to startle his arch-enemies. Finding nothing within arm’s distance, he did what any logical person would do. Grabbing Brainiac by the skull, he tossed the man bodily at the gathering of birds.

The unconscious pirate skipped against the stone road and hopping over the birds collided with what was left of the stall in an explosion of wood, food, and grain.

”Ah….”

Whistling, nonchalantly, Orion scooped up Brainiac and tried to hurry Luka into the bounty office.

[npc=misc]”HEY YOU! UMBRELLA MAN!”[/npc]

Sweat beaded down Orion’s brow as he turned and scratched his head bashfully, letting out an awkward chuckle. The merchant was positively fuming at the destruction of property. A few loss grains to gravity and birds was no problem, but this was a major setback.

Orion sighed before handing off their quarry to Luka. Making a ‘go-on’ motion behind his back towards his new friend and arbiter of the law, he trudged defeatedly over to the stall vendor and started to apologize while bowing profusely.

In his head, he very confidently believed Luka bought it. ’Whew…’

Word Count:

In all of Orion’s ranting and raving about the freedom and condescension of the avian genus, Luka was mostly entirely lost; however, there were a few points that the bounty hunter found salient.

As the two carried out their “conversation” (consisting of Orion’s ravings, and Luka speaking concise affirmations such as “sure,” and “go off”), a murder of Crows flew overhead. The Stray Dog indeed wondered: if you could go anywhere, why would you stay here?

As they came to the bounty office, Orion began causing trouble immediately; a bead of sweat rolled down the dark-haired man’s forehead, he was embarrassed to be seen with the reckless young renegade. This shame was made all the worse as a gaggle of skilled-looking hunters emerged and saw Orion hand Brainiac back over to Luka.

“Bya-ha-ha-ha! Good goin’ Stray Dog! I wondered when somebody would drag that low-time crook in! We just cashed in a couple of 25,000,000 berri bounties, so hopefully some of the change will be enough to cash in yours!”

The fashionable looking-hunter, Jesse Jim, flashed a stack of the largest Berri bill denominations, sticking out his tongue and tugging his bottom eyelid down to mock the poor loser. His traveling companion, Judge Holden, an enormous, pale-skinned man, grumbled out a low and menacing chuckle as the pair made their way triumphantly away from the bounty office.

Luka quietly suffered the men’s insults as he made his way into the office; as soon as he entered, he could feel the eyes of the more elite hunters present judging him. Though he was a two-star hunter, many people thought that he still belonged at the first rank; he’d never been particularly ambitious with his captures, and it seemed as though it was an act of mercy on the part of the organization to increase his ranking so the povert would be able to cash in bounties at a marginally better rate.

Keeping his head down, he finally came to the desk with his two captives in tow. Letting go of their scruffs, and letting the men fall to the ground, Luka procured the mens’ bounties from his coat and slapped them down upon the surface. Paige, the young woman at the counter, grimaced sympathetically to Luka as she eyed the rather small numbers on the men’s wanted posters.

[npc=bhun]“Alright, is that all Luka?”[/npc] The kind young woman spoke with a bit of hope in her voice that he would have something else to cash out on.

Her hopes were quickly dispelled as the hunter spoke his response, “Yup, thanks Paige. Sorry.”

Though he was curt, Paige heard the shame in Luka’s voice; she hadn’t meant to upset him, [npc=bhun]“It’s okay! Just wanted to make sure! Let me take care of these guys and get you their bounties alright?”[/npc]

With this, Brainiac and Blackjaw were escorted to holding cells within the office, and the Stray Dog was compensated for his meager efforts.

Emerging From the Office…

Luka counted the small stack of berri that he’d earned for turning in the pair of criminals; though he was a bit pleased to see the streets of Spider Miles safer, he’d not made much in the process.

As Orion continued to apologize to the man whose bird problem he had exacerbated, Luka grabbed his compatriot by the shoulder and pulled him away from the mess, “Listen, if he presses charges that sounds like your problem. If you don’t have a bounty yet then you’re not my problem, we need to get a move on.”

Luka began walking down towards the docks, beckoning Orion follow.

“I think approaching this directly is a really bad idea. In fact, I’m almost certain we wind up riddled with bullet holes if we barge in there with no plan. We know exactly what dockhouse they’re using, so I’d bet that we should be able to find a way to sneak in. I want to know what we’re working with before we actually go in there though; you’re a power user, what is it that you do exactly?”

Word Count:

Despite Orion’s intense urge to make a joke at Luka’s proddings to understand his powerset, something like ‘you have to at least take a girl out before you try to unravel her secrets’. He could tell from the tone of the solemn man’s voice that the bounty hunter was intensely serious.

There is a fine line between goofy and obnoxious, and Orion was wearing it pretty thin. Now, usually, Orion wouldn’t care. Usually, it was intentional–disarming even–but he didn’t like these guys' methods. He had a job to do.

Beat down pirates, save the captive, and receive the liberated boat as payment for services.

Orion sighed before sharpening his focus on Luka, his steel gray eyes meeting the man’s turquoise.

”Alright, Bounty Hunter. Let’s talk.” Orion scanned the approaching Dockhouses, almost as if assessing their potential attack points, but in reality he was attempting to organize his thoughts.

”The only people who know about this are people who I hate or love, so despite falling into neither, welcome to a select group… Orion’s tone varied wildly from abject disgust to peaceful bliss as he mentioned those categories. So palpable were his feelings that they seemed to alter the very environment around him. Wood planking at their feet shifted from weather beaten pierworks to splintering caltrops and gnarly spikes to the smooth polish of lacquered hardwoods.

“Now Nato– cough cough. Now Pops and I weren't able to identify the fruit exactly, but we think based on what I remember of its appearance and what I can do that it’s the ‘Arai Arai no Mi’. I’m a Friction Human. Still working on a catchphrase though.” Orion scratched his nose sheepishly, all of sudden feeling really embarrassed and exposed at laying it out so openly. It was unfortunate, but Orion needed to take certain risks to secure his boat.

He hopes he was able to cover up that slip up about Nato, it wouldn’t be ideal if the Bounty Hunter learned of his connection to the Collector. If only because it would make his foster father’s life a bit more difficult.

”Well, your turn. Ah, also I am great at distractions.” Orion flashes the gaunt man a thumbs up.

Word Count:

“What do you mean my turn? I’m not a power user,” Luka spoke erroneously, unaware of his own Devil Fruit powers.

The man gestured to his knife and his gun, “This is all I’ve got. Nothing fancy about it. But you, you can change how surfaces feel? That does sound quite handy for making a distraction, I don’t suppose you can do it without revealing where you are? I’m still concerned that whatever distraction you’re planning to make is going to get you shot.”

As he led the way down to the docks, the smell of polluted saltwater infected his nose; he didn’t care much for the waters surrounding Spider Miles, part of the reason why he’d never discovered the curse of being unable to swim.

“Come this way,” Luka began walking down a dark alleyway between a couple of the dockhouses. They were quickly approaching their target, so from this point forwards it would be necessary to exercise stealth and discretion.

“Once we get to the building, we need to make sure there’s not anybody on the outside and then I’ll see if I can find a way in from above; what about you, what’s your plan to distract them?” As the duo drew near dockhouse 5 of Smog Pier, Luka’s scouting became more rigorous; each time they came to a junction, the Stray Dog would lean just far enough to look in all directions, before retracting back to his hiding place and gesturing when it was safe to pass to the next section of alleyway.

Finally, they were upon it, and fortunately enough it didn’t seem like there was anybody guarding the outside of the complex; even more fortunate: there looked to be a fire escape leading up the side of the warehouse.

“Okay, Orion. Get into position. Let’s take these scumbags down,” Luka spoke these words and nimbly leapt up to the fire escape, hardly making a sound as he made his way up to a door on the second floor of the building.

Meanwhile, Blissfully Unaware of the Impending Bust…

“Listen woman! We’re leaving for the high seas sooner than later, like it or not you’re coming with us! And I can either make that comfortable and pleasant for you, or I can make your life hell; what’s it gonna be, little missy?” Vernon looked down at the girl, fallen down to the floor and trying to kick loose of the restraints that held her tied to the chair.

The arrogant pirate captain put his foot down on the woman’s head, keeping her pinned down to the cold stone floor of the facility, still, Sofia spoke defiantly back up at the man, “You’re not going to take my dad’s boat, bastardo! I’m sure of it! A storm is coming your way, and you and your dirtbag friends will be lucky to see tomorrow!”

The Lord General wiped his fancy shoes on the side of the woman’s head, grinding her face against the pavement below, “I see how it’s going to have to be. I’m sorry for your sake, Sofie-chan. Boys! Get her packed away with some of the other things; once we’re done with the trade we can call the rest of the crew to come pick us up and we’ll be ready to get this show on the move on!”

Throwing his hand and his mechanical arm up dramatically, the General commanded his army to begin moving cargo, and they were all quick to comply.

Word Count:

"Wellll~, I know I said I was good at distractions but I don’t really have any ideas… Luka?-- And he’s gone." Orion finds himself turning to talk to Luka only to stare at the empty space where a Luka-shaped person once stood. It was only pure luck he looked up to see Luka dashing up the fire escape like a career fireman. The man quickly disappeared over the edge of the dockhouses roof, vanishing into the smog-like haze of a Spider Miles skyline.

Not having any real clue as to the situation, Orion left his hiding place to sneak around the building’s perimeter and glance into the dock house via a side facing window. The thing about friction powers is, without friction objects don’t make much noise and Orion could move as quietly as the best of them. Luka could have benefitted but the man slipped away so quickly and silently Orion probably was unnecessary.

The space within was about what he expected, similar in make and shape to the many other docks and warehouses that make up this part of the port.

The majority of the space was covered by the water lane that ran down the center. Piers perimetered the water lane on three sides while the open side faced out to sea. Currently, the garage was closed to hide the miscreants within. It was easily apparent that this dock house was for much larger vessels than the humble cutter that floated within. In part with how large the lane was in comparison to the ship cleated there, but also due to the many crisscrossing layers of scaffolding that made up the upper levels of the facility for service on taller masted boats. Plenty of places for a stealthy bounty hunter to lurk and drop.

There was a small crew of roughly four people within moving crates and barrels of what Orion assumed was supplies for a voyage from Spider Miles, while another stood on deck waving a giant metal arm around. Orion thought it looked cool, but the man was doing something unforgivable.. They were attempting to take his boat.

After his brief foray into scouting, Orion recognized that just about any distraction would do. They weren’t a particularly large enough group such that they could compartmentalize their tasks. If he made a decent splash, all eyes would be on him. Hopefully, long enough for Luka to do whatever the man did.

Orion considered himself a pretty direct guy. That wasn’t to say he couldn’t be discreet or manipulative, he just found that brand of action bothersome. Maybe enough time on the other end of it would make anyone feel as he did. Call it a hunch, but just being there at all could be considered distraction enough.

---

Knock. Knock.

"Ah?! Aye, Boss Vernon!"

[npc=pirt]"Ahem…"[/npc] Lord General Vernon stared down his crewmate with the expectant look of a lecturing parent.

"...Lord General Vernon, sir!" The crew member said with a subtle roll of his eyes.

[npc=pirt]"Much better! How can I help you, dear peon?"[/npc]

"Yeah. Right, someone's knocking on the door?"

Vernon just waved the man off, flailing his large arm of metal destruction around in a swirl, unbothered by its weight or bulk.

[npc=pirt]"Ah excellent, excellent! Your brothers in arms have probably arrived!"[/npc] He glinted mischievously at Sofie, wiggling his brows, must to her obvious disgust and visible shudder.

[npc=pirt]"It seems we can finally depart, Grugrugrugruguuu!"[/npc]

One shrug later, the crew member swung back the wide loading bay doors after simply unlatching the lock.
Peeking out…

"Ah, right then… Bos–"

Vernon's withering stare bore holes in the crewman's back.

"Lord General Vernon… There is no one–"

"–tage Collection…Gritstone Spear!"

"Here?!"

A mass of stone and wood–debris that appeared remarkably similar to Spider Miles surrounding buildings and storefronts– came blistering towards them. Smoking, soldering, and glowing dangerously hot in all its glory, like a meteor being bowled at pirate pins. The door opener caught a glimpse of something metal glinting in the afterglow of molten metal, before the orb of flaming violence burst in a firework display of chaos. He watched with widening eyes as a shrapnel sized piece of flaming debris spun rapidly towards his face.

---

"Huh… that worked better than I thought it would. It's pretty tricky getting the friction different on so many various surfaces, aannnd keeping them all stuck together." Orion said as he stepped through the charred and discharged remains of his attack dramatically.

[npc=pirt]"What the hell are you supposed to be, barging in here on me and my crew? You think you are some hero?"[/npc]

Orion scoffed before grinning at one remaining large pirate, the man he had witnessed belting out orders stood slack jawed at the unfolding chaos.

Despite everything, the pirate captain still had the presence of mind to aim his large metal arm, which Orion could now definitely tell was a gun, directly at his hostage. She was a fiery thing, waif as she was, and even now struggled against her bindings, regardless of the cylinders pointing lead at her skull.

The captain paid no mind to her though, he only had eyes for Orion.

'Perfect.' Orion thought.

"A hero? No way." Orion smiled even bigger. "I'm the distraction."

Word Count:

Luka quickly unloaded all six bullets out of his revolver into the legs of the men carrying the general’s cargo, most of the General’s subordinates were disabled in a matter of moments as the shots rang out sharply through the warehouse; the rest were stunned, and hesitated to draw their weapons as they saw the Devil Fruit user’s power and wondered where the bullets were coming from.

“W-what?!” Vernon turned away from Orion, looking up to the roof of the warehouse searching to find where the bullets had come from.

He was quick to retaliate against the bounty hunter with his own volley of firepower, blasting several of his high-caliber rounds toward the rafters.

Fortunately for Luka, he was one step ahead, otherwise he would have been blasted to bits…

“STOP SHOOTING INSIDE, IT’S SO FUCKING LOUD!” Sofia screamed from the ground, trying to rock her way toward Orion.

Her ears were ringing, and she could barely hear what she was saying as she called to Orion, “Hey tough guy!! Get me out of this chair?!”

… dropping down to the cargo below, Luka quickly began thumbing new bullets into the chambers of his six-shooter’s barrel. Throwing himself behind cover, the man waited for his next opportunity to go on the offensive; he and Orion were outnumbered and outgunned, they’d gotten the drop on their targets, but things were going to be life or death from this point forward.

“I see you bastard!” Vernon unloaded another couple of high caliber rounds into his cargo, at this point he was well aware of the stakes of the battle as well. Luka’s cover was blasted into splintering shrapnel in an instant, but by running a couple of steps up the wall and then backflipping over his own line-of-cover, he was able to dodge his opponent’s hail of bullets.

“What are you doing, men?! Do something!” Vernon called to the three members of his crew who weren’t completely indisposed, each of the men pulled a single-shot pistol and a cutlass; one of the men headed to flank Luka, whereas the other two trained their guns on Orion.

With another pirate on his flank, Luka was forced out into the open.

“GOTCHA! YOU’RE DEAD KID!” The Lord General unloaded the rest of his magazine toward Luka, he was certain that this round of shots would kill his mark by the sheer number of bullets that he fired out of his implanted weapon. He only stopped firing once he’d heard the empty clicks of five consecutive dry firings.

As the horror of the fight unfolded before her eyes, Sofia wasn’t content to sit idly by, throwing the weight of her body into a chair-bound tackle– she got close to Vernon’s leg and chomped down on his calf– just above his boot.

“You bitch!...” Vernon kicked the girl off of him before procuring a bullet from a pouch at his waist and loading it into the next chamber in his gun, pointing his arm cannon down at the woman who had dared to defy him, “... I’ve had enough of your shit young lady! Say goodnight!”

“What?!” The woman cried back, her ears still ringing.

Word Count:

[npc=pirt] “... I’ve had enough of your shit young lady! Say goodnight!”[/npc]

Welp… Things had gotten out of hand. How swiftly it had devolved into chaos. Luka has done a stand-up job in Orion’s opinion, disabling a majority of goons. There were only a few left, two rounding on Orion and another chasing down his impromptu partner.

The two approaching Orion weren't a major concern. The captain, however, killing a hostage on his boat would complicate things. Based on the cyborg's information, it was apparent that the hostage was the daughter of the boat holder.  How could Orion honorably take the boat as payment if he allowed the owner's daughter to be harmed in the process? He needed to earn his keep.

The pirate minions leveled their single shots at Orion and pulled the trigger. Orion acted rather than thought. With a flourish he spun with his umbrella, opening its large canopy during the spin and jacking up the roughness across its metallic webbing. The outer face of the canopy faced towards the attackers and shielded his body from the blast of two concurrent pistol shots.

Friction was an interesting thing, increase it high enough and it can absorb the forward momentum of something as swift as a bullet. Orion would have to buff out the slight warping in the frame from the weight of the force later, but it was a minor thing in comparison to disabling the attacker's greatest threat.

Continuing his motion, Orion kept the twirl going. Reversing the surface's roughness until it was as frictionless as he could make it, he folded the canopy back into the umbrella's body and like a hunter would before throwing a spear, changed his gripping along its haft. In one smooth motion, Orion chucked the umbrella at the leveled gun-arm aimed at the hostage.

It spiraled through the air silently, the smooth surface limiting air resistance to near zero. Cutting through the space like a scythe through wheat. Smashing into the augmented minigun, the umbrella's collision was met with the sound of rending metal, its haft sinking deep into the gun before the density of the gun's metal could resist the blade-like smoothness of the umbrella-turned spear.

Weaponless, Orion did the only thing he could do. He charged the last pirate mook in a full body tackle of tangled limbs and hoped Luka had seen enough to handle what was left of the captain.

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“Yipe!” Sofia squeaked out a surprised exclamation as she saw the weapon that was being leveled at her head suddenly skewered by a rogue umbrella.

“What the?!” Lord General Vernon turned to face the man who had destroyed his fine work of custom implant weaponry; he was a bit confused, as it seemed that the man who had just attacked him had already turned his attention to one of his underlings.

As the devil fruit user tumbled to the ground with the pirate, Vernon picked up Sofia’s chair and sat her looking toward Orion; with a wide and cruel grin on his face, the captain called down to the man on the floor, “You really think your weird little umbrella is going to be enough to stop me you stupid bastard?! All you’ve done is make sure she dies a more painful death!...”

Raising his heavy mechanical arm into the air and preparing to bring it down on the redhead’s skull, the man shouted out a pre-emptively victorious warcry, “... after I beat her to death, I’ll make you tell us who put you up to this! The Weird Science pirates will live on, and once we’ve replaced our wounds with cybernetics it will be as though your pathetic little attack never even happened!”

Shit, he’s probably got some armor under that chest…[i] feigning death, lying amongst the wreckage of Vernon’s onslaught, Luka knew what he had to do to settle the matter with the cybernetically enhanced crew; and he was about to lose himself a [i]lot of money, “... think fast ‘borg! I bet I know one place you haven’t enhanced!”

Luka fired a single shot at the large augmented man.

“Aiieee!” Sofia screamed as she prepared for her skull to be crushed beneath the man’s mechanical arm.

Sofia’s skull was not the one that was destroyed. Toppling over backwards, Lord General Vernon fell to the ground with a bullet wound bleeding from his forehead, and a chunk of lead lodged in his prefrontal cortex.

Leveling his revolver at the last of the pirates, and helping Orion wrangle the last man into submission, Luka collected all the still-living members of the Weird Science Pirates, and tied them up in a pile sitting next to the crew’s remaining unloaded cargo.

“It’s over! Wait! You guys did it!...” Sofia cheered to the men, shouting extremely loudly to compensate for the ringing in her ears, “... now can one of you please untie me?! I have to go tell dad where his precious ship is!”

“Sure…” Luka procured his knife and began sawing at the woman’s bindings before speaking back to his newfound comrade, “... good work Orion, thank you. I don’t think I could have done this alone. We should work together again, you’d make a good bounty hunter. What is it that you’re doing now?”

Luka patiently awaited the man’s response as he focused his attention on cutting through the thick hempen rope holding Sofia to her chair.

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