cannibal spectrum [p]

[LUCIAN FAWKES]

wolf laying in the clothes of sheep
the meek shall inherit what the beast don't eat

CANNIBAL SPECTRUM;

Thin rose lips parted to the crisp flesh of a human arm. Lucian dug his canines in, ripping and tearing through tendons as he pull the limb from his mouth. Chewing only once or twice, he decomposed the mass, washing it down with a shot of rum. The liquid flame burned his throat as he tilted the glass back, allowing the high proof alcohol to take effect. Nothing significant, just a minor buzz to get him warm. The night air was cold, a biting chill sending tingles down the spine in its mildly taunting breeze. Flames flickered in the fire before him, and a disemboweled corpse lay in pieces on the ground.

The blood stained pavement began to wash away as rain plagued the night. It gave a dark and ominous feel to the setting at play, and Lucian embarked out into the night. He had previously made shelter of an alley, using a trash can to start a fire and cook the raw flesh of his marine victim. But this narrow gap between buildings provided no cover to the rain from above. Needless to say, rain was no longer any issue, the swordsman was already teeming and wouldn't be provoke by such a insignificant feel such as being wet.

Exhaling deeply, he moved along the sides of city buildings, using overhangs to provide shelter from the rain. The dim lighting allowed enough vision for him to peer into shop windows, and the first-mate contemplated the worth of the products lining the shelves. It was great temptation when he came across a weapons shop of sorts. Hands cupped to the glass, he stared intently on a sword shelved at the top corner in the back of the room. The placement of the sword in the room, as well as its glass casing demonstrated its worth.

Grinning frivolously, his finger tips trailed the hilt of his blade as he pondered the quest. And only when he had decided on it, did he ensue, bashing the pommel of his blade into the glass casing and entering the shop. No alarm would sound, as they had neither the funding nor the wit to anticipate a robbery in the wealthier districts of commi island. He was part way to the blade when he stopped dead in his tracks. Footsteps approached, and Lucian pivoted to the source of the sound, crouching low and gripping his sword. He stepped slowly to the side, lurching in the shadows for his guest's identity to be revealed. Would blood have to be shed?

[MISHKA CANNIBAL]

Perplexed crimson pools stared at the illuminated moon with such passion and praise, for one could only wish to shine as brightly as the moon – well, one like Mishka. He was always one to look deeper into things; a philosopher of some sort, resembling that of his forefathers before him that passed down their knowledge to the commodore. His being could be located on top of an old roof; his frame sprawled across the covering, whilst hands were placed behind his head – digits entwining within the ebony locks bestowed upon his all-knowing crown. This is what he did mostly on his days off; moon praising, but soon his admiration for the moon would be cut shortly by the smell of burned flesh. The stench was strong, sickening, and entertaining all in one, as the marine inhaled the fumes of burning flesh.

The smell caused stimulation to stir within his core, allowing him to ascend from his unperturbed position. Pools scanned the dark town, quickly locating the fire that was roughly twenty meters away from the youth. “This is going to be fun…” His words were calm, yet bared doubt within them – for he never truthfully had fun against anyone or anything, mostly any who opposed him would quiver in utmost fear. The reason for that though was due to the cannibalistic trait Mishka possessed, though he was no Kumate; he still loved the taste of human flesh meeting his tongue and being devoured by his pronounced canine teeth.

He truly hoped that he was going to have fun. A couple of leaps from the edges of roofs, shortly to the surface of the street was all it took to be near the burning flames. They danced lustfully on the human body of what seemed to be a marine, Mishka’s assumption coming from the marine uniform that was slowly burning. “So this is going to be fun, hehe. Been so long since I’ve truly longed for one to meet my desires.” Pressing onward, he trailed the drips of blood that were slowly being washed away by the rain that shortly came down pouring on top of him.

Truthfully, the rain didn’t bother him in the slightest on a daily bases. It was due to him not truly be clothed with the accurate attire, for the marine was only wearing his infamous boots, sweatpants, and a black hoodie – nothing more, nothing less. But soon his stress about his clothing would come to a close, by the sudden sound of glass shattering by what sounded to be a weapon.

“Now this is fun!” A burst of speed arose from within and in no time the youth appeared before the broken glass, but came to a halt at the sight of another being. “So it’s you?” Staring at the very soul of this man, Mishka began to smile devilishly – he knew who this criminal was, Lucian Fawkes, the brother of a Pirate Captain; fun was an understatement. Standing ten meters away from him, he spoke yet again to him, his words holding assurance, rather than exaggeration. “I assume you aren’t coming peacefully? Cause if you aren’t I will personally drag your ass into Impel Down and make sure you never come out, you tool.” Things were truly going to get interesting shortly, but the question is – was Lucian up for it? Only time would tell what this pirate was truly about.

[/size][/justify][/font]

[LUCIAN FAWKES]

wolf laying in the clothes of sheep
the meek shall inherit what the beast don't eat

CANNIBAL SPECTRUM;

Taking one step from the shadows, the upper portion of his body was made visible. The fact that the marine identified Lucian from a distance of ten meters was miraculous, but nonetheless, he stopped. Raising his hands in surrender, it seemed as though the white flag was thrown, how lucky for the marine. "Damn," he exclaimed, putting brief emphasis on the word, "you sure got me. You must be a great marine." The sarcasm was blatant enough for any nitwit to pick up on. Lucian might smirk if the marine took his words for face value.

Before the words had reached the marine's ear, Lucian had pivoted, diving behind the shop's counter and disappearing into a doorway. His movements a blur, logic might hint at an exit at the back of the shop; his instincts proved valid, and the swordsman ducked out of the shop onto an empty city street. This was an alleyway between shops, rather large, and it seemed as though the marketplaces offered room for vessels to load shipment into their rear entrances.

Making a sharp right, the pirate hid to the left of the door, which was in fact the way it swang. This allowed for him to remain in the blind spot of his pursuer and possible avoid an altercation altogether if the marine headed in the wrong direction. He would prefer not to kill again, since he'd have to deal with the mess; albeit, he was willing and able to fight if the topic rose to the occasion. Ivory digits twisted around the hilt of his blade, creating distance between the flesh and leather binding, as well as securing his hand beneath the pommel. His other hand held the rim of his ebony sheathe; slowing his breath, he focused on the sound of his surroundings, making crucial note of any peculiarities.

Standing three meters from the sword shop's exit, Lucian hung along the wall, allowing him a twenty-five meter distance from the barrier parallel. The buildings stood at three stories, and offered little to climb upon, save for a few small pipes which seemed rather unstable. The street was made up of granite, showing textured pavement wit a five meter width at the center of the alley. Rain poured in from the crevices above, and doused the ground below in a thick blanket of water. This would be an interesting fight if it played out, Lucian desired to grasp the eyes of at least one marine who could live to tell the tale. His notoriety would spread quickly from then forth, and tales could be spread of the rookie crew. Tartarus had begun it's uprising.

[MISHKA CANNIBAL]

A twisted devilish smirk came across the malevolent façade of the marine, as the pirate's words met his ears; oh how they pleased him. But before he could embrace the compliments given to him, Mishka would without delay perceive his target making a run for it – attempting to make the marine lose sight of him. “Fun! Fun! Fuuun!” His words were stated with the utmost pleasure, whilst he quickly followed suit behind the target; it had been so long since he chased someone down – especially one as corrupted as him. The simple thought of such proceedings caused this one to shriek with anticipation, as it bellowed within his core. Though his speed wasn’t quite on par with his prey, he still attempted to run behind him – losing sight of him completely in the process. Now things were no longer fun, matter of fact, they were quite dull now, strictly due to the lame trick played upon his eyes.

There he stood, in the very center of the alleyway, five meters away from the door Lucian was veiled by. “I must say, you are quick on your feet bitch! But couldn’t say the same for your pathetic brother! Ha! When we caught him, it was priceless, just like how your mother was, priceless she didn’t deserve to be of any value!” His words bounced off the walls and into the ears of anything or anyone that was in a ten-meter radius. The harsh, cold, and metallic words were meant to cause emotional harm, but did they do what was intended of them? Only time could tell as the marine waited patiently, quietly, and respectfully for the target to come forth; a turtle has to come out of his shell one day.

It took no fool to notice that Lucian was playing the turtle and Mishka was playing the shark. He ostracized waiting for things, but he did what was needed to make things better for him. “Come on, don’t be like this mang. I had more respect for you than this, thought you were a man of action, a man of devouring humans, similar to me.” The heavens began to reveal their anger towards the two, for they didn’t fight, thus meaning – there was no show for the gods to watch, displeasing them greatly. Rain began to fall to earth harder than before, as he waited for his target to show his face to him. It was time to battle like men and not hide pride between legs, as if we were women. It was time for the two to battle!

[/size][/justify][/font]

[LUCIAN FAWKES]

wolf laying in the clothes of sheep
the meek shall inherit what the beast don't eat

CANNIBAL SPECTRUM;

A shark? Ha. The pretentious commodore was nothing more than a rabbit. Quick in all but his movements, his eagerness would lose to the patient turtle. A lousy comparison in any case. His movements masked by the rain, Lucian had repositioned towards the door as it swung open and the marine bolted out. It'd taken him so long to reach the exit, he almost wondered if his pursuer had stopped for a bite to eat along the way. Rain now drenched the earth, the skies thundering above hinted at impending doom.

Listening to the marine made him want to chuckle. His fruitless banters aimed to draw the first mate from his concealment, Lucian would eventually abide, stepping forth out of will rather than to riposte. He announced himself now from behind the commodore, lips parting only to the distance of four meters from one another. "My mother? Ha. How cliche," he cooed, voice penetrating the loud white noise of the rain. Arms crossed in the midst of his chuckle, he burst forth, doing well to retain his balance on the slick ground.

An arm sliding over his domain for protection, the other surged forth with explosive movements. His fist aimed to smash into the throat of his adversary, and the speed that flourished was godly. Lightning was well within the realm of Zeus, but for keepsake, Lucian embraced it proudly. The strike only sought to provoke an immediate reaction, even if his adversary could partially keep track of his movements, he would soon be overwhelmed by their velocity. Shifting to the right, a sweeping kick flashed across the base of Mishka's stability. Uprooting the man from his axis would leave him at a great disadvantage.

He had to speculate at the fighting style of his opponent. In a poorly lit arena, it would be difficult to tell what weapons were garnished in his indefinite arsenal. His hips lay bare and untouched, making evident a prowess manifested in the use of his knuckles or concealed weaponry. Branches curled into a myriad of movements, clutching the onset of an ore crafted arbalest. Legerity and power burst into an upwards casting of his armament, parting flesh in its address.

A foot planted, the swordsman stalling as he capered a small increment to assess the damage of his bladed foreplay. Having just commenced, he could feel the blood rushing through his frame, stimulating them with a sense of warmth and appeal. "Don't go down too easily. I'll be disappointed if your actions fall short of your words," he roared through the pouring rain. Emerald gems donned the look of determination, the furrow in his brow incrementing slightly. To this degree, the commodore had only seen a minor display of his capabilities. It would be fun to see how this played out.

[manafest]

As the two characters had an alluring male orgy a decent sized looking rock dropped upon Mishka Cannibal's head. The object was insanely soft, almost like a plushie. However the outer appearance looked identical to a rock. But the fruit was almost like cotton candy. Bit right into it and savior every bite. However, one obviously doesn't know if it's sweet. After hitting Mishka Cannibal's head it slowly rolled against the ground.

[/i] staff decides upon various members whom have posted and devised plots and puts them in a random raffle for devil fruit and haki prizes. consider this our thank you to you. as per devil fruit rules, you may eat it (pm me if you choose to.) you may sell it, or you may uptake a mission searching for a scientist to release the information to you. have fun, and again, thank you.[/ul][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[MISHKA CANNIBAL]

Optics darted speedily in the direction of Lucian’s, their crimson hues giving off a rather eerie charisma. Cautiously he studied every aspect of the pirate, height, weight, clothing, and weaponry – everything about this very man. “Your mother pro-!?” Soft-spoken words were cut short by the ability to see tension within muscles, muscles belonging to the enemy, whom was readying himself to dart forth. A simple shift in direction (five meters left and back) was all it took to get out of lethal range, but that did not mean he was gracefully in the safe zone. Lucian was by far faster than the commodore, causing things to be much more difficult for the youth than expected; whilst attempting to flee, the blade belonging to the pirate, had grazed the right arm of the youth. “You’re fast, I must admit that.”

Scarlet fluids extracted itself from the cut, trickling down as it damped the shirt of the youth – things were getting interesting. The sheer thought of battle was all it took to arouse the cannibalistic nature for flesh and blood, but soon the feelings would be nullified by the random object landing on the youth’s head. It was round and rather devilish in the sense, yet it allured the marine – something about its nature. As the fruit rolled into the lustful hands of Mishka, pronounced canine teeth dug deep into the fruit. The taste was rather disgusting, horrifying to be exact, causing regret to enter the complex mind of the marine. He strongly disliked horrible tasting things and this by far was the worst thing ever.

He stared in the direction of his foe, quickly tossing the fruit in his direction, “What is that to you?” He cooed in query, assuming that the pirate would know of the fruit’s origin. His feet rather oblivious to the actions that just took place, but he wouldn’t use them just yet, for now he needed to know what the hell he just bit. “I know, you know Lucian. Just tell me and we can get on with this battle.” His question was stated bluntly, not a single trace of beating around the bush was shown or came to light. Things were getting interesting.

[/size][/justify][/font]

[manafest]

You've eaten the JIKI JIKI NO MI ^{magnetism magnetism} (eustass kids unnamed devil fruit) however aren't indepth with all its abilities. Enjoy it and have fun.

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

[LUCIAN FAWKES]

wolf laying in the clothes of sheep
the meek shall inherit what the beast don't eat

CANNIBAL SPECTRUM;

To presume that Lucian would allow the time vital to the commodore's feed was foolish. A hand occupied with the full mass of the fruit approached the barred fangs with greedy intent. Seizing the moment, for which had been lead up to by a swift advance, the swordsman cast out armament with a subtle flick of his wrist. A furrowed laceration would be the ultimatum of plunging his canines into the devil's fruit. A worthy price for that which he would be cursed with.

The haste of his retreat would no longer warrant any gap. The corsair plunged forth his blade, brought to fruition from the chest of he. Extending fully his limb, more so than the increment separating the likes of them, agility sought an impending doom. Piercing with the velocity of a bullet, the fulcrum of the blitz contrived a new course in the situation of a befitting defense. A silver edge catching flesh again meant to birth a vast scar tissue onto the chest of the adversary. Evasion next to nil, the fight could be over in an instant.

Not only had the advance aimed to draw blood, but to cause haste to the beat of his heart. Adrenaline and fear peaking in the climax of their fray, Lucian was quick to gain breadth apart from his assailant. His mind was made, and resolute actions materialized. Leaving Mishka to feel both the pain of setback, and the curse of the devil, the distance was set to fifteen meters over a short lapse of time. A diagonal slash would cast crimson from his blade, and the weapon would slide back into it's sheath.

"That is a devil fruit. You are now both bound to the sea, and condemned from it. Make of it what you will: curse or power," he cooed. And like that he turned, walking in the opposite direction. With his head tilting back, he called out once more to the marine, "You better not die. I will be the one to kill you!"