candy mountain [o]

[LANCE CHASER]

Drawing out one last desperate sigh, a single unfortunate marine lumbered across the shores of the dirt ridden land named Dawn Island. He felt the marines must have hated him, truly hated him, for stationing him in this unruly junk land. He understood he was an underling and pipsqueak, people seemed to go out of their way to enforce the fact he was below them all the time; but why here of all places for a first chance? His nose was shriveled in distaste, the repugnant scent that leaked from these mountains was far more than his gentle nose could take. He had been ashore for a little less than several hours and he was already crumbling. He told himself to preserve for the sake of the person he held so high.

Legs trembling he trekked forward, all the while vivid tales of this venture played through in his head like a glorious picture book, god how he wanted to be in a picture book. He was a simplistic child, and these small fancies kept him at bay for a subsequent amount of time, a trickle of a smile gracing his face. In trances like these he almost always forgot his surroundings, even the scent wasn't bothering him at this point. It was his perpetual high state, without the actual high.

It would have been appropriate to say the wind was caressing his skin in a comfortable fashion at this point, as he dragged himself around, but with the state of his location it would be a wrong description. A literal land fill was what he was standing on after all, beneath him was layers upon layers of collected junk and gunk did not deserve any serene descriptions. It was to say the least, disgusting, and if Lance retained any consciousness it's focus was on climbing his very way to the city. Absently of course. But he was leading that way, even though his assignment had been to patrol the outer sector. Not to say nothing could halt his travels, but wouldn't that suck?

[FINNIAN D. RAIS]

It stank like shit. Where the hell was he? Finnian’s face was resting against what could’ve been a half-eaten chocolate cake. Only a glimpse was taken as the harsh sunlight beating down on the trash and the resulting gases promoted from garbage below pierced into the grey occuli, forcing the boy the squeeze them shut, and sent him writhing and reeling from the resulting migraine. A stretch of the tongue later, his face was sent twisting from utter disgust as he confirmed the source of smell. Oh no, it was shit, and he had rubbed his face in it.

Blind and covered in faeces, the boy attempted to remove himself from the pile of poop. It soon became apparent that he had been beaten up, and thrown into a garbage dump. He couldn’t help but compliment how his head in a pile of shit had been a nice touch. An uncomfortable lump was pressing into his side, which Finnian felt for and removed. It was his mask. At least that escaped the wrath of his assaulters.

After several excruciating minutes of clawing around, the boy had managed to semi-open his eyes and return to a semi-upright slouch. Brushing himself off, Finnian began to examinate the extent of his injuries. He had his left little finger pointing the wrong way around, his right shoulder was clearly dislocated and there were bruises all over, but even he was surprised that no bones had been broken. What a state he was in, but there was nothing permanent, and most of the damage could be fixed with his ability.

Now that he was relatively alive again, Finnian began to examine his surroundings and attempt at deducing what had happened. The giant mountains of garbage lying around allowed the boy to determine that he was probably in Gray Terminal. The leather bag containing his medical equipment was lying nearby, torn open, and most of its contents had been taken. Memory of the assault soon came back to him. There had been a convention for doctors in Goa city, and the easiest way for a pirate like himself to travel there is from Foosha village. Unfortunately, the hungry, savage inhabitants of the Gray Terminal had seen him clean and seemingly vulnerable. Of course, the boy had put up a fight, but his choice weapon was not ideal against the numerous and desperate and the mass soon swarmed him and beat him into submission.

But that was then, and this is now, and since losing his medical supplies, Finnian had lost his agenda. What should he do now? Revenge would be the natural thing to do for most pirates, but it was illogical. To hunt down and slaughter every one of his assailants, while possible, was frankly not worth his time. So what now? His chain of thought was interrupted as a heavy sigh was heard nearby.

It was a marine, of an age seemingly younger than himself, with golden hair and a demeanour that suggested that this was not his post of choice. They say every cloud had a silver lining, but Finnian would never have thought that this applied to getting beaten up and having your face rubbed in faeces. Hiding the fox mask in his clothes, he clutched his still dislocated shoulder, and groaned loudly and perfectly, as he had heard in his patients many times before.

Time to exploit the system, perhaps.

[LANCE CHASER]

The marine wasn’t in the best state for patrolling; he was lost in imagination and could barely pick up his surroundings. If not for his acute hearing he probably wouldn’t have picked up anything in his surroundings, like a wounded man’s groans, but as fate had it he had heard it. His first instincts were to jump, before his eyes went scampering about. The little noise was more than enough to interrupt his fantasy; he didn’t have such unpleasant sounds in his world, so it couldn’t have been from there. And as his fluorescent blue orbs skipped along, surely there it was, tattered and beaten, some person.

Choking back air he staggered over to the brutalized pirate, his face caught somewhere between panic and shock. He was too inexperienced to know what to do in these cases, leaning over the male with a look of complete concern. ”A-are you okay, sir,” his thin digits wavered over his figure, only slightly dusting the air above him as he had no clue where to place them. ”W-where does it hurt?” That seemed like an appropriate question, much better than inquiring about the stench that coated him; a good glance could answer that.

He focused on distinguishing the injuries first, cuts and the finer things that might have him knocking on death’s door. He wasn’t a fan of this, and was forcing back his own gag reflex as he attempted this strenuous ordeal. Oh boy he hoped nothing was too severe, if he died he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

[FINNIAN D. RAIS]

It was obvious from the first glance the fair-haired marine was inexperienced. A genuine look of concern from a marine? That was certainly a new experience. Finnian would've snorted had he not been working hard to keep up a facade. Though the left side of his brain was scarily developed, his right hand side was merely mortal. Thus, having to con was an intensive process. Probably not in this case though, as the grey-haired pirate forced himself not to laugh as he saw the wide, cerulean puppy dog eyes of the kid. He almost felt sorry for what he was about to do next.

Via continentia, Finnian triggered retroperistalsis, compelling the contents of his digestive tract into his stomach, through the relaxed pyloric sphincter. Then he increased his abdominal pressure via contracting the abdominal muscles propelling the stomach contents through his esophagus and mouth onto the boy’s shoes. Nasty nasty, and probably unnecessary, but the pirate just had to complete his social and moral hypnotism, and play the inexperienced lad right into his palms. After all, the boy had heard his groans despite seemingly to be in a daze when Finnian had first saw him. Slacking off during a patrol, perhaps he wasn’t so inexperienced after all.

Now that the strings were attached, it was time to make the pretty puppet dance. Finnian used his misshapen hand to point at the leather bag that used to be his medical kit. ‘Oh my, I am so sorry; I am a doctor, travelling to a convention in Goa City.’ No lies there, the closer to the truth, the easier it is. ‘I was tricked by my guide who had promised to lead me to Goa City from Foosha, where I had a patient. My money and all my research was stolen by the damn inhabitants of this Terminal, please help me find them and get it back, they are oh so important to me.’ Short, hoarse and realistic coughs were made before the grey-haired boy lapsed into silence, seemingly utterly exhausted.

-continentia an ability, check profile

[LANCE CHASER]

If Lance thought his job was bad before, he was dreading it now as the puke splashed all over his marine stationed boots. He brought his teeth down on his lower lip to keep him from squealing, something a man of his position should never do, but it only reduced it to a low whine or squeal. He had to wonder why the world was so cruel, after hours of trying to force back his own vomit he would just get thrown up on by someone else. That was cruel with a capital c. His mind raced between the filth soaking into his boots and the man seemingly bludgeoned to a pulp next to it, and he assumed if he was throwing up there was a definite problem, not that his face didn't prove that already. "S-sir" he sort of boomed in some last moment reaction to his vomiting, like calling out his name might somehow mysteriously help him.

But he didn't look any healthier after the effect, he actually looked worse, but that was just him noticing the whole spectrum of his injuries. He had to bite back another whimper. He knew there were some wrong people out there, but it seemed only that much more wrong standing over a victim of such sickness. This was why he was a marine...sort of. "I-I should take you to a hospital first, you look really bad," he put extra emphasis on really, as if he couldn't feel just how bad it was. He still hadn't made an effort to touch him, what if he touched something he shouldn't and made the man hurt worse? He was contemplating just racing back to town along to snag someone, but then if the thugs came back...he didn't let himself think what they might do during a round two.

But he was pretty solid on treatment first though, he'd carry him if it came to that, but he needed some treatment. Justice could be delivered later, possibly by someone more capable. "Would you like mind...if I carried you for a bit? J-just to a doctor, promise." He spat out, it would be awkward carrying the male, and if he threw up he wasn't sure if he wouldn't drop him or not, but it was a faster mode of transport.

[FINNIAN D. RAIS]

The fair-haired marine would now dance to whatever song Finnian wishes. Perfect. To be honest, he had no idea what his actual goal was anymore. Perhaps entering the doctor's conference as patience would be a new experience, but who knew what 'experimental' medicine they would use to treat minor, insignificant injuries. The grey-haired boy shuddered, a rare sight, but knew too well about the experiments that go on as he himself had brewed several disgusting concoctions, deliberately to try at this conference. Though he was a pirate, finding willing patients was not often easy, and required Finnian to go to great lengths to make them ‘volunteer’.

The pirate doctor would gesture to notify the marine that he would agree to being carried. However at the first opportunity, Finnian would disarm the marine by removing whatever weapons attached to his belt and back, and attempt to dispatch the compassionate fool. Withdrawing the garrotte from his back pocket, he would wrap the wire around the blonde’s pale neck and attempt to slice off the marine’s head cleanly, followed by a sharp kick towards his spinal cord to detach the head completely.

As kind-hearted as the boy had been, this was not a sea of compassion, and if his attempt had succeeded, he did not belong to this world anyway and Finnian would simply be doing him a favour. If he did manage to survive, however, it would be a rude awakening for the naïve marine and a much needed lesson.

There was no warning to this, and a half-dead man you were carrying to the hospital suddenly turning around to murder you would be the last thing to expect. Unfortunately, the very-real bruises and cuts were actually taking a toll on the grey-haired male, and the fatigue would clearly affect degree of efficiency of his assault.

[/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[LANCE CHASER]

He took the male's gesture as confirmation to pick him up, cautiously dipping his hands under the male he uttered a silent prayer for the best. He was still a little woozy from just being where he was, so he had to put a lot of effort into hoisting the male up, or trying to at least. The male seemed a tad heavier than he had expected. Oops. "Uhmmmmm," withdrawing his hands he made a rather shameful expression, he couldn't lift him. "Well then...I'll just," caressing his hands he waddled behind the male, "do this" he finished as he hooked his arms under the males arms. He would drag him.

He did a weak tug at first, to say how the idea would flow, but then did a slightly harder one to get him actually moving, which if not parried by some resistance, would drag him a little ways and would in turn be rewarded by a somewhat embellished grin from a certain doe eyed marine. For the moment he was ignoring what dirt and grime was rubbing against his uniform in favor of being able to help some poor innocent man. He was saving lives dammit.

And if it meant carrying a man smeared with poo and all those other things then he would be up to the task, nay, was up for the task.

[FINNIAN D. RAIS]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] [style=margin-bottom:-45px; border:5px solid #000000; border-top-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topleft:55px; border-top-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topright:55px; border-bottom-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; border-bottom-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomright:55px; background-image:url(http://i164.photobucket.com/albums/u37/glaciation2007/11-1-3.jpg); width:75px; height:75px;] [/style] [style=float:left; border:5px solid #000000; border-top-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topleft:55px; border-top-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topright:55px; border-bottom-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; border-bottom-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomright:55px; background-image:url(http://i164.photobucket.com/albums/u37/glaciation2007/11-1-1-1-1.jpg); width:100px; height:100px;] [/style]

[style=font-family:georgia; font-size:25px; letter-spacing:-3px; color:#000000; margin-left:-30px; margin-bottom:70px; margin-top:-20px;]Even if the morrow were empty of promises,[/style] [style=background-color:#000000; color:#dddddd; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; text-align:center; padding-top:5px; padding-bottom:5px; margin-left:-25px; margin-top:-50px;]Nothing shall forestall, my return.[/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color:#000000; border-bottom:5px #000000 solid; margin-bottom:-40px; margin-left:-65px; margin-top:25px; text-align:center;]words 428 tag dat avatar notes hi[/style]

[cs=2][style=margin-top:-5px; width:400px; border-left:5px #000000 solid; font-size:10px; color:#000000; text-align:justify; padding-left:10px; padding-bottom:10px; padding-top:10px; margin-left:40px; font-family:tahoma; ]Finnian doubted it at first, raising an eyebrow as the boy attempted to pick him up. Was he serious? He had assumed that an opportunity to murder the boy would arise when the golden-haired boy successfully picks him up. Turns out this boy was a lot more pathetic than he had initially interpreted him to be. The doubt soon turned into utter disbelief. He's not really going to? Wow. Failing to lift the pirate, the foolish blonde marine had the ashen-haired doctor's arms held in position and began an attempt to drag him. The pirate would've burst into laughter of ridicule had he not been so aware of his current predicament. Although it seemed as if the marine's intentions were pure, the actual intentions were to drag Finnian across the dirty, diseased ground of Grey Terminal, with the broken glass and jagged pieces of metal dotted across in close intervals. Was he stupid? The odds of the surviving such an ordeal if one as healthy was close to zero, but it was sure demise if he were to go through this in his existing state. The marine had not only unwittingly stopped his attack, but was now also threatening Finnian's life, all with a grin on completely ignorance on his face, what a monster. Game was over. Finnian had lost interest, although he still had to remove himself from this rather embarassing situation. Thank god for morons. 'What are you doing to me?! Let go you brute! I will have your commanding officer have you lashed!' He would shout frantically in a particular posh accent, arms flailing as a hysterical snobby doctor would. Having been hopefully let go, the pirate shifted the dislocated parts of his shoulder and finger back into place, wincing from the pain. Brushing himself off, he would introduce himself, whilst picking up his fox mask from whence he had hidden it earlier. 'Hello, I don't believe we've met but I am Finnian D. Rais, a pirate, and you sir are a moron. It has been fun, but I think it's time for me to take my leave. The marine would be able to recognize his picture in the bounty picture, which was taken with half his face obscured by the mask. A pirate introducing himself to a marine in this manner was probably unprecedented, but considering what he knows about this particular blonde klutz, Finnian doubted it would be at any personal risk. He would then proceed to walk off in the direction of Goa city, afterall, his face was still covered in faeces.[/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:8px; color:#000000; text-align:center;]created by shiki @ ote[/style]

[LANCE CHASER]

The marine hadn't focused too much on the environment and so had easily over looked the many dangers that could arise while dragging the injured male. He only thought along the lines that he'd be better off away from there. The boy was genuinely acting with good intentions. He had managed to drag him a spare several inches before the out burst, jumping back with the utmost shock. Holy hell mate. And what was this about lashing? He didn't think those really happened, but he quivered at the mention of it.

"S-sorry," he sort of blurted out as he bowed, the sort of bow you learned at a military training camp, arms pinned to the side and all. What? What? What? The little marine had already told him he was taking him to get treatment so why the rabid out burst? His mouth felt dry and his eyes were sort of sequined open, maybe he hit a soft spot? He would most likely tear himself apart for something like that later, apologetically beaming down on the injured male. But the reaction didn't seem right if it was pain.

Then it dawned on him that he had never asked permission to drag him, and of course he thought it must have been that. "If it's because I forgo-" he broke of mid sentence, his expression as lost as moments ago. What? Pirate? What? It wasn't until the mask was introduced that it clicked, it was a grainy image in the midst of his mind, but he could remember. He was standing face to face with a pirate, it must have been a joke. But it couldn't have been, cause the man looked just like the one on the wanted poster.

A hand instinctively reached out for the rifle mounted on his shoulder, this man was potentially dangerous. "H-hold it," with his fire arm drawn he aimed it at the male's back. "I-i have to take you in if you're pirate. You should know that," and he intended to...even if the man was injured.

[FINNIAN D. RAIS]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] [style=margin-bottom:-45px; border:5px solid #000000; border-top-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topleft:55px; border-top-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topright:55px; border-bottom-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; border-bottom-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomright:55px; background-image:url(http://i164.photobucket.com/albums/u37/glaciation2007/11-1-3.jpg); width:75px; height:75px;] [/style] [style=float:left; border:5px solid #000000; border-top-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topleft:55px; border-top-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topright:55px; border-bottom-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; border-bottom-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomright:55px; background-image:url(http://i164.photobucket.com/albums/u37/glaciation2007/11-1-1-1-1.jpg); width:100px; height:100px;] [/style]

[style=font-family:georgia; font-size:25px; letter-spacing:-3px; color:#000000; margin-left:-30px; margin-bottom:70px; margin-top:-20px;]Even if the morrow were empty of promises,[/style] [style=background-color:#000000; color:#dddddd; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; text-align:center; padding-top:5px; padding-bottom:5px; margin-left:-25px; margin-top:-50px;]Nothing shall forestall, my return.[/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color:#000000; border-bottom:5px #000000 solid; margin-bottom:-40px; margin-left:-65px; margin-top:25px; text-align:center;]words 568 tag x notes bam cow use tackle[/style]

[cs=2][style=margin-top:-5px; width:400px; border-left:5px #000000 solid; font-size:10px; color:#000000; text-align:justify; padding-left:10px; padding-bottom:10px; padding-top:10px; margin-left:40px; font-family:tahoma; ]Finnian had no interest whatsoever in the situation anymore. He had predicted every single move the marine was going to do, and it was only overestimation of this blonde that led to his first error in foresight, and the marine had simply climbed back into the 'fucking obvious' category. There had been two outcomes for the introduction he made, either the marine would comprehend how completely outsmarted and been thankful that Finnian decided not to murder him in his state of blissful ignorance, or he would do his 'civic duty' and attempt to arrest him. Well, guess that's the second error the dusky-haired bruise-covered pirate had made, judging by his character, only the latter would've really happened. The ashen-haired doctor listened as he heard the klutz marine's command, only stopping as he heard the sound of a cocking gun. Holding his hands up in surrender, if only temporarily, Finnian would turn his head, attempting to gauge the weapon the marine was using. It appeared to be a standard marine issue rifle, had it been any weaker firearm, the pirate would've just continued walking, but he had heard that autistic people were good at maths, perhaps naive retards were great shooters? It was not a risk worth taking, not against an opponent of this caliber, and having to convince Goa city guards to let him into the city with a gunwound was oh so much harder. Well, the options have certainly opened up. The marine's surprise and indecision prior to threatening him had increased to distance between them to around 15 meters. So many ways to murder this boy-who-left-home-too-soon, but considering his aching body, running away did not seem so bad either. Flight or fight, flight or fight, it was too bad adrenaline would only help him perform the act and not make the decision for him too. None of these options really appealed to Finnian, but he felt as if there was enough deception for one day, so it was really between mauling the marine or running away. On another day, Finnian would've ran. He wasn't a particularly vengeful person, but between being beaten up by crowds of beggars and dragged across a floor of jagged glass and metal, the pirate with the devil fruit really wanted to maul someone or something. Putting his hands behind his head, he would shout to the boy currently threatening him with a rifle. 'Hey, are you sure you want to do this?' It was simply to buy time for regardless of the blonde's answer, Finnian would transform quickly into something akin to a minotaur, albeit covered in a coat of slightly stained white. The devil-fruit user would then proceed to charge the boy, attempting a dodge at every perceived and expected muzzle flash from the rifle. At such speed and power, a simple flick on the marine's forward should in theory suffice to send the boy flying, and that was exactly what he did, shortly before transforming back into the shit-covered human form. Finnian was not exactly a fan of such brute force, but it certainly held its appeal as a form of frustration relief. Stepping on the rifle that the marine would've almost certainly have dropped, he looked the young lad in the eye, gave a condescending giggle, and walked-away once more. The pirate didn't know why, but he half expected the boy the break down and burst into tears.[/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:8px; color:#000000; text-align:center;]created by shiki @ ote[/style]

[LANCE CHASER]

Being the kindred spirit Lance was, he had only flaunted the gun in hopes of making the figure submit. Most people found guns an awfully good reason to give up. Most people. His fingers were pressed tight against the cold metal sheets of the gun, the barrel directed towards the center most area of the male. Even if he didn't intend to shoot, he always had his gun aimed. Swiveling around in his head was a silent prayer that nobody would die in this little altercation, though Lance was pretty if someone died it would be him.

He drove his gaze straight into the back of the male, pleated blue orbs begging for a simple surrender. Maybe if he just left him alone it'd be all fine, but he felt it was too late for that, and he was dangerous. The marine wasn't completely ignorant, and he had heard about some of his doings, and was also clearly aware that he possessed the power of a devils fruit. Letting him go was just a luxury he couldn't afford to have. He tried to imagine it, the devil fruit's power, vague images of demons wearing human skill filtered through his mind. It was both disturbing and creepy.

And then, boom. As his distractedness often went, the marine had been caught off guard by the sudden sound and then click, his finger had tugged against the trigger. The marine sucked in a sharp breathe, shocked at his deed, shooting a man in the back, how low had he just gone? And he wasn't even sure what the man was going to say, he could have been surrendering, and he shot him. shot him. The gun jangled in his grip. There had been no thought at all on actually firing the gun, he could have done so many things, but actually shooting was not in his calendar. It was such a risky move.

The motion had already passed though, and there was no taking that back. If he had successfully shot the man then that would be on his conscience for the longest time. He swallowed his pride like someone might swallow medicine, just one giant gulp, and prepared himself for the worst.

[FINNIAN D. RAIS]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] [style=margin-bottom:-45px; border:5px solid #000000; border-top-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topleft:55px; border-top-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topright:55px; border-bottom-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; border-bottom-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomright:55px; background-image:url(http://i164.photobucket.com/albums/u37/glaciation2007/11-1-3.jpg); width:75px; height:75px;] [/style] [style=float:left; border:5px solid #000000; border-top-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topleft:55px; border-top-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-topright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-topright:55px; border-bottom-left-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomleft:55px; border-bottom-right-radius:55px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright:55px; -webkit-border-radius-bottomright:55px; background-image:url(http://i164.photobucket.com/albums/u37/glaciation2007/11-1-1-1-1.jpg); width:100px; height:100px;] [/style]

[style=font-family:georgia; font-size:25px; letter-spacing:-3px; color:#000000; margin-left:-30px; margin-bottom:70px; margin-top:-20px;]Even if the morrow were empty of promises,[/style] [style=background-color:#000000; color:#dddddd; font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; text-align:center; padding-top:5px; padding-bottom:5px; margin-left:-25px; margin-top:-50px;]Nothing shall forestall, my return.[/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; color:#000000; border-bottom:5px #000000 solid; margin-bottom:-40px; margin-left:-65px; margin-top:25px; text-align:center;]words 320 tag x notes madcowdisease[/style]

[cs=2][style=margin-top:-5px; width:400px; border-left:5px #000000 solid; font-size:10px; color:#000000; text-align:justify; padding-left:10px; padding-bottom:10px; padding-top:10px; margin-left:40px; font-family:tahoma; ]Errors and anomalies. Things that could not be deduced via extrapolation from his mental graphs of human personalities. Finnian knew he had made a grave error when the crack of the gun sound as soon as he spoke up, the sound enough to dispel the pirate from his daydreaming. The marine must've phased out and shot on instinct to any reaction he had, bastard. On slightly delayed reaction, the ashen-haired man dived to his right, limiting his The pirate would wince as jagged trash in the junk heap he had just dived into also cut his arm pretty badly. No more playing around. Half shielded from further shots by pieces of assorted trash protruding from the junk heap, Finnian permitted the power of his fruit to transform him into a hybrid of man and bison. Standing over eight feet tall, immensely ripped and covered in white fur, he trash heap seem to shrink beneath the growing behemoth. With a gutteral growl, the pirate in bestial form would tear out what would appear to be a fridge, long seemed consumed by rust. Almost effortlessly, giant arms would launch the oxidized kitchen appliance at the marine. During this time, the marine would've had the opportunity to retreat or further his attempt at slaying the pirate. However, more than a few bullets would be necessary to stop this beast, as another piece of discarded furniture would be torn out, this time half of what used to be a dining table, made of hard oak and the varnish long worn out. Using it as a shield, similar to a one-man roman phalanx, the pirate would march towards the gunman. Having been shot at, the only intention remaining was to beat the blonde senseless. He was no sadist, but the anticipation of crushing the aggressor still gave him thrills and the adrenaline now coursing through his veins certainly helped suppress his growing pain and fatigue.[/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:8px; color:#000000; text-align:center;]created by shiki @ ote[/style]