[Episode] Sea Anemone of My Enemy

Name of RP: Sea Anemone of My Enemy
Quest Category: Episode
Characters participating: Brood X. Bach, Maxwell, Akihiko Mori (+2 Each)
Important NPC(s) requested: N/A
Planned Location(s): Water 7

Summary: While looking for work, three individuals, Bach, Maxwell and Mori, get caught up in a surprise attack launched by a vicious group of fishman led by an extremist fishman commander known as Salty Sam and his two lieutenants, Scaly Shane and Seafloor Sid. With the fishman ordered to kill as many people as possible, the unlikely trio are forced to help each other survive the onslaught, before taking the fight to Salty Sam and his top goons, driving them off the island. Talk about one way to make a first impression.

Posting order: Maxwell, Akihiko Mori, Brood X. Bach, as requested by Brood.

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Water 7, Blue Station, Far too early in the morning.

Slowly, carefully the morning sun peeked over the horizon. Its rays made the calm waves glimmer. Reminiscent of a massive fountain -or maybe a particularly watery volcano- the famous city shone like a jewel in the middle of the far-stretching sea. A shrill whistle and a huff of steam heralded the arrival of the seatrain. It was the last train of the night, or the first train of the morning for all those hopeless optimists. The ride from San Faldo had been long and blissfully uneventful, lulling most passengers to sleep. One after another they twitched awake as a pleasant voice through the loudspeaker snails welcomed them to Water 7.

In a silent and fancy railcar, a lanky silhouette stirred. Venom green eyes opened lazily and a loooong yawn escaped between sharp teeth. The dimmed lights revealed a gray-haired and sharp-featured man in chocolate brown suit. He rose from the soft seat where he had been slouching. A quick stretch elicited a rewarding crack from his back. Ah, much better... He adjusted his wide-brimmed hat, grabbed his trusty suitcase and simply blended into the crowd. Barely had he stepped outside when his free hand already dipped into his pocket. After some fishing, his fingers caught a pack of cigarettes. Then a lighter. A flame flickered and soon a streak of smoke started drifting to the sky. Richard Maxwell had arrived to Water 7. Once again.

Two conductors were standing at the platform and watching the sleepy travelers saunter out of the train. With their identical navy blue uniforms, equally pudgy builds and round features, they could have been twins. Only their impeccably groomed moustaches set them apart, pointy and twirly respectively. One of them leaned towards the other. His pointed moustache twitched with a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, I heard a rumor there’s a notorious pirate hiding in this train.” Richard’s ears were burning. Eavesdropping was a bad habit, one of many for him. A droplet of cold sweat trailed down his otherwise serene expression. Spotted already? When and how?! He hurried his steps, scurrying out the exit. Maybe he could hide at some nice cafe...

Meanwhile, the other railway worker slowly glanced at the gossip, then at the posh people passing by and back to his buddy. “...You say that every single time.” Without even attempting to deflect the flatly made point, the whispering man gestured vaguely. “But imagine if it were true for once. I would apprehend that criminal. And be hailed as a hero.” His buddy raised a skeptical brow. “...Would you?” Sheepishly the conductor tugged the brim of his decorated cap a little lower. “Well... No... But I would call the Marines. They would apprehend that criminal. And I would-” His hollow boasting was cut short by a patronizing pat on the back. “Be hailed as a hero, yes yes. Come on, hero. The break is over.” With a reluctant groan, the gossipmonger followed his colleague back to work.

Sadly, the rat had missed the rest of the exchange. He was long gone by now. Climbing up a long staircase, he directed his gaze towards the city center. If memory served, there was a nice and quiet coffee shop somewhere around here... Along the way, he bid good morning to the shopkeepers setting up their stalls and getting ready for the day. Though he wore his usual polite smile, his eyes still flitted about nervously. Paranoia gnawed at his nerves. After the incident at Alabasta, every bystander seemed suspicious. Too bad he was just fretting over nothing.

Or was he...?

Climbing the long flight of stairs felt like scaling a mountain. The top seemed so far away, out of reach. Yet one glance back and the bottom seemed rather distant as well. It gave the frightened rat a moment to calm down. To sort his thoughts. His gaze crept across the buildings ahead, the shops opening their doors and the waterways filling with people. Friendly smiles underlined their cheery chatter. Food stalls only showed their freshest stock. Clothing stores displayed their most colorful selection. And weapon smiths racked their shiniest wares. Much like the pristine white buildings, the people here wanted to show their best side to the world. If they had worries, it certainly didn’t show.

Returning to reality, Richard took one more drag and tossed the smoldering stump into the water. Right. No sense in letting some rumors ruin a perfectly good morning. There was still that scent in the air after all... The unmistakable fragrance of opportunity. Water wasn’t the only thing flowing through this city, see? Powerful carpenters brought peace, peace brought tourists and tourists brought money. The thought alone brought his smile back. Now, if memory served, there was a quaint little coffee shop somewhere around... here.

Soon enough, the gentleman had found himself a nice spot at the floating veranda of a cafe. Kofi Seven, the lovingly crafted wooden sign said. Round, white tables had been arranged in a tidy crescent, with a blue-striped umbrella offering shade. He picked the furthest one, right by the street, out of habit. A bubbly young waitress took his order and managed to sell him a piece of cake too. He hadn’t even known he was in the mood for cake, but that gentle enthusiasm convinced him. She waltzed back to the table with said cake and a cup of piping hot coffee. Reflecting back her warm smile, he thanked her and took a sip. Mm, now this was the right way to start a morning.

That coffee was promptly spat out when a man-shaped lump of malice was haphazardly hurled far too close. After hacking out the last droplets, the cowardly criminal carefully glanced up at the imposing figure. Hey... He recognized that man... And immediately wished he didn’t. There was no mistaking those horrid, dead eyes that seemed to stare daggers even out of a bounty poster. “Erm, who, me?” He pointed at himself, as if the fellow could have possibly meant anyone else. Quickly he hurried to dispel the doubts. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, but you must be mistaking me for someone else...” An awkward chuckle masked the furiously boiling worry beneath it. First the station staff and now this. Was he getting sloppy or was it just terrible luck?

Worse yet, the terrifying pirate captain dispatched the offending hurler with ease. Richard’s wide-eyed stare shifted sloooowly between the sweetened corpse and the calm candy man. The question was met with a smile so polite it was hard to believe it was fake. “Oh, you know... Sightseeing and such...” He lifted his half-empty cup, ignoring the brown spray staining the table. “I heard they import some good coffee here, see?” Lies as sweet as candy and hopefully as easy to swallow. Even if they were, technically, colleagues and fellow supernovas, he wasn’t very eager to reveal his true plans. It was bad for business, you know.

Desperate to find any other topic, the rat swept his sly stare over the surrounding people. Much to his surprise, he spotted a group of fishmen floating in the nearby canal. Truly a fascinating species with such colorful bodies and traits. They seemed to be in the middle of a rather heated conversation. He gestured a finger towards them, careful not to rudely point. “Say, are those fish folk friends of yours? They seem to be staring this way.” Just then, the group started swimming furiously towards the sidewalk. As soon as the first one reached it, he bellowed a chilling command. “Avenge our comrade! Kill them!” Richard’s expression went blank. A small mutter left his lips.

“...I don’t like the sound of that plural.”

Richard stared in wide-eyed shock as another fishman fell. Honestly, he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or horrified at the candy man’s killing prowess. Perhaps he was simply glad that he wasn’t on the receiving end here... His thoughts were cut short by a glimpse of white uniforms. Ah, marines... The walking reminder that yes, things could always get worse. Lovely.

The last thing he wanted right now was to be identified as a pirate...

Of course, as luck would have it, the candy man just had to broadcast the fact to the whole world. The doctor adjusted his tie nervously, trying to stop it from feeling like a noose. “I prefer the term entrepreneur, see? Pirate is just... ahem... bit of a loaded label these days. Wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea..” As if his bounty poster wouldn’t already do that and more. His best bet right now was to play the role of an upstanding citizen and get evacuated somewhere far, far away from here.

Before the cowardly crook could simply bail, however, his ear twitched at the sound of opportunity. He aimed a quizzical stare at the drooling bloodhound. Coffee...? Immediately the more sensible side of him hit the brakes. No, nonono, absolutely not. This was a terrible deal and he should not have anything to do with this madman. “...Say, are we talking in cups or crates?” Why? Well, because if it was the latter, he could add some herbs, call it a new blend and sell it at Pucci with a modest markup. About, say, a thousand percent, perhaps? For a brief moment there, his eyes bore a striking resemblance to Berry signs. He had to bite his tongue though. One intriguing offer didn’t mean they were allies.

Unfortunately, the bloodthirsty fish people didn’t care about any alliances. Or lack thereof. They wanted only one thing... Richard snapped out of his coffee and money themed daydream and looked around. “Ahem, gentlemen...” He wore his most disarming smile like a fine suit. “Can’t we talk about this?” ...Evidently not. Without a word, they surrounded him.

However, when one fishman grabbed the rat by the lapels, self-preservation instincts took over. He bashed the coffee cup against the edge of the table, causing a shrill crack. As the violent foe tried to bite him, he haphazardly slashed with the broken half. A crimson spray painted the pale porcelain. The brute cried out and released his grip. He staggered back, covering his bleeding eyes. The torrent of foul words that followed was gruesomely creative. It would’ve made even the saltiest sailors take notes. His allies certainly took note and focused their angry glares on the rat, who meekly hid the bloody cup behind his back. “Sorry, sorry... Force of habit...” Didn’t seem like they were going to accept the excuse.

Approximately five seconds and two slashes later Richard rushed through the crowd, clutching his suitcase. In his wake was a whole squad of angry sea dwellers. “It was self-defense! I already said I'm sorry!” Words weren’t having the hoped effect right now. Weapons and fists flailing they chased the scurrying rat. Dodging and weaving past the fleeing civilians, he tried to put as many of them between him and danger as possible. Much like Brood had dragged him into this mess, he too would share the suffering. Well, to be fair, misery did love company. His brilliant plan, for now, was to let the professional maniac handle the amateur maniacs.

Much to the frightened rat’s growing dismay, the panicking civilians weren’t proving to be much of a shield. And neither were the Marines that rushed in to fight. If anything, their ranks resembled a wounded viper squirming and thrashing about, effective only by sheer accident. Didn’t they usually have a commanding officer or some such to prevent this exact problem? It was a sad state of affairs when he found himself wishing the Marines would actually do their job.

Richard’s toxic thoughts were cut short by a blur of motion in the corner of his vision. Was that a...? He hit the deck, barely in time to avoid the chucked fishman. One nasty crash later, lifeless legs were left dangling from a new hole in the wall. The quivering coward carefully lifted his head. When the maniac screamed at him, a bitter mutter left his lips. “Well, pardon me for wanting to stay alive.” He scampered back onto his feet and hastily dusted his clothes. ...Only to get caught in a splash of assorted fruits as his colleague crashed through a stall. With a heavy sigh, he gave up on trying to look presentable. Today just wasn’t his day.

However, the intriguing offer caught the entrepreneur’s attention. Looking past the insulting nickname, he cupped his chin. “Crates, you say...?” It seemed like the dark swirls in his eyes twisted to resemble a familiar symbol. Well, maybe that part was just imagination. But his greed was real. Flashing a friendly smile he shot his new business partner an approving nod. “Then you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll... help you out.” Unfortunately, that meant no more running.

Richard looked around at the surrounding chaos. As the fishy foes surrounded him, he swallowed the nervous clump caught in her throat. On a second thought... He was not ready for this. “Tell me, boys, any avid readers among us? Anybody here familiar with the book Dr. Kureha and Mr. Tony?” He nervously adjusted his tie and reached slyly into his pocket. Deft fingers dug through the hidden tools. Tried to at least. “...No? Shame. It’s a good read. A classic, really.” C’mon, come on... Why were the simplest tasks always so difficult in a panic? Time... He needed more time.

A hulking hammerhead shark dressed in a white gi stepped close. He snatched the rambling rat by the throat and squeezed. From between the sharp teeth came a growl to get to the point. Evidently the sharp-dressed man still held their curiosity if nothing else. The response was barely a squeak. “Urk... Gah... The point... being...” While one hand clawed feebly at the strangling grip, the other finally found what it sought. “All classic stories... hold a seed of truth... A life lesson, if you will.” A needle shined briefly in the light, before being buried into the doctor’s thigh. His eyes widened. Teeth clenched. Muscles bulged. The surge was like fire tearing through his insides. And it felt wonderful.

Before the foe could realize what was happening, a violent jab caused his eyes to bulge. A pained cough dug up reddish bile. The grip loosened immediately. Beneath the gleaming green eyes, a sharp smile spread across the doctor’s features. Be it the liver, the swim bladder, or some other important organ... Getting sucker punched in certain spots always hurt. “And the lesson here is... Appearances are deceiving.” Hoisting his trusty suitcase, he gave the reeling shark man a good smack. It sent the fish crashing into his allies. Smaller ones were knocked out, while bigger ones struggled to lift the bulky fellow off of them.

Unfortunately -and unsurprisingly- the stunt only irritated the fishy mob further. Angry glares turned towards the doctor. Blades were drawn. Stances were taken. Richard promptly took a quick step towards Brood, hoping to hide behind the maniac’s back. “We’re a team now, right? Right. Of course. So you can lead the charge and I’ll, uh... I’ll watch the rear.” Well, to be fair, he was a doctor. Front-line fighting had never been his forte. Having chemical courage coursing through his veins didn’t change that.

In a matter of moments, the chaotic situation got a whole lot worse. First the rat found himself without a shield between himself and the angry fish mob. Second, said shield had the absolute nerve to tell him to ‘deal with their captain’. It left him almost speechless. Almost. Honestly, he had just one thing to say to that. “...Pardon?” He watched in stunned disbelief as the violent candyman went on to start a brawl. Gah, and just when he had told the fellow... You know what, never mind. It was only the berserker brew bubbling in his veins that stopped him from turning tail and running. Adrenaline was whispering violent suggestions into his ear. Right... His new friend wanted him to handle the captain... Very well then. He felt fantastic right now. Unbeatable even!

Meanwhile, something slithered up from the canal right behind the rat. Slimy tentacles reached for his feet. He barely noticed something tugging his pant leg. “Hm...?” With a sudden yank, they dragged him off-balance and slammed him against the pavement. [MT - Octolock] [UT] It knocked any delusions of invincibility out of him along with his breath. ”Geho-!” Acting on pure reflex, he stomped the offending tentacle. [LT - Sucker Punch] The slimy grabbers started squirming violently. Two of them surged around him and wrung him like a wet rag. [LT - Wring] In his desperation, he flailed, kicked and even bit them. [LT - Eye Poke] [UT] That last one seemed to do the trick. With a hefty fling, the tentacles discarded the rat right into the crowd. [LT - Takoyuck] The resulting crash sounded a lot like pins falling over.

Wobbling weakly, Richard struggled back onto his feet. His eyes were spinning. For a moment there, he almost thought he saw a huge eel riding an octopus the size of an elephant... The strange hallucination even laughed at him. “Zazazazazap! Serves you right, landlubber!” He shook the dizziness out of his head, but the odd vision persisted. Indeed, a massive, brown octopus towered over him. On top of it sat an eel fishman with a fancy coat and a tricorne on his head. All around them, the rampaging fishmen stopped to point and whisper. Salty Sam, the big boss, all the voices praised in unison... Meanwhile, the rat simply stared at the creature... Rubbed his eyes... Stared some more...

So, apparently this was now happening.

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Total: 3016

While the rat was still baffled by the strange, aquatic combination, he got blindsided by a swinging tentacle. [LT - Tent-A-Tackle] It tackled him to the ground and started quickly wrapping around him. [LT - Grabbity Squeeze] [UT] A panicked shriek hitched in his throat. He had read enough sailor stories to know where this was going... Squirming furiously, he managed to free a hand. Said hand dove into his pocket like a rodent seeking shelter. It rummaged desperately, until finding promising shape. He pulled out an injector sloshing with ominously murky liquid. Without further warning, he jammed it into the tentacle. [HT - Euthanasia] Bluish blood sprayed. [LT - Shiv] [UT] The wrapping stopped... And enraged thrashing started!

Richard managed to slip free from the sucker-filled grasp just in time. Another tentacle had coiled into a deceptively convincing fist shape and took a swing at him. [MT - Ta-KO] He narrowly avoided the hit, but his poor hat took the brunt of the monster’s rage. For something that was now terribly poisoned, the octopus sure seemed awfully energetic... As he stopped to catch his breath, the chemical cocktail coursing through his body worked to fix the scrapes and fractures he had collected so far. Unfortunately, it couldn’t keep up with this kind of abuse... At this rate, he would need a booster shot soon. But do you have any idea how expensive those were to make? He wasn’t made of money, you know...

Meanwhile, the slimy eel couldn’t hold back his strange laughter. “Zaaapzapzap! Keep running, pathetic human!” He leaned back in his makeshift... Throne? Saddle? ...Seat, his makeshift seat. His sharp teeth twisted into a smug grin. “You have to get lucky every time. But we just need to catch you once and drag you under! You’ll drown like a rat!” His insults went somewhat unappreciated, not that he let that stop him from gloating. All around them, the rampaging fishment formed a natural barrier that stopped his prey from escaping. He wouldn’t have to lift a fin while his lackeys and warmount did all the work.

Words: 331
Total: 3347