Revolutionary Dawn [Mini-Arc]

[Zambezi Long]

Standing upon the dock, the young man brushed his hair away from his face with his hand as the wind blew. His eyes stared directly ahead at the sight before him, an island he'd heard of quite a lot but never seen. At least, before now. A grey, dreary place that reeked, he noted with his keen smell, of blood. This was not a peaceful island, but an island of constant violence. Who knew how much blood had been shed here. Who knew what kind of battles had been fought or what kind of people had grown up here. Brutal warriors hacking each other apart in a screwed up law of "Survival of the Fittest". It was revolting, but it was another sign of just how careless the World Government was. To think an island like this had fallen so low, and the Marines had done little to change it.

"But even in a place stained in blood, there's bound to be those who disagree with its rules. I'll find a crew mate here," he muttered to himself. He was confident, firm in his belief that he would find someone willing to join him in this lawless land. Striding forth, he walked unflinchingly into the town. His coarse skin and unkempt hair made him fit in well with the locals, but those sharp eyes, his jagged teeth, the gills on his neck, they made him stand out. The young man was not a Human, but a Shark Fishman. Even the uneducated knew what that meant - they'd been told of warriors from the far-off oceans of the Grand Line who moved through the water effortlessly and showed might surpassing the expectations of Humans. Normal Humans didn't stand a chance against them.

But the people of Valkyn Arena were hardly ordinary.

The Fishman's grey cloak fluttered in the wind. Beneath it, he remained clad in a white, double-breasted vest with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a brown belt with a silver buckle around his waist and grey, three-quarter-length trousers. His feet and ankles remained exposed, whilst his forearms and hands were clad in blue gloves with metallic plates fixed onto the back, functioning as gauntlets. His eyes stared forwards, not intimidated by the stares of the people around the island as he walked through the streets. Some looked like they were tempted to fight him. His eyes would move left and right, as if in search. He was looking for something. He wasn't one-hundred percent sure what or who, but he'd find a sign somewhere around this place. Possibly a lead to his would-be crew mate.

Little did he realize, however, that within the neighborhood were a group of Marines fresh from the bar, just looking for a criminal like Zambezi to pick a fight with.

The question was, who would get their way?

[CAIRO D. CAELUS]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px] [style=height: 30px; width: 300px; font-family: impact; font-size: 30px; color: 141414; text-transform: uppercase]keeping the peace [/style][style=width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i41.tinypic.com/s67p7b.png); background-repeat: repeat][style=float: left; height: 3px; width: 290px; background-color: 0095A5; margin-top: 30px][/style][style=height: 100px; width: 100px; float: right; margin-right: 10px; border: 2px solid 0095A5; margin-top: -20px][/style][style=width: 170px; height: 50px; font-family: verdana; color: FFFFFF; font-size: 10px; padding: 10px]music over the clouds - alan. words two four zero. notes ... and now i want apple pie ;A;[/style][style=font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; color: D0D0D0; text-align: justify; padding: 60 10 20 10]chaotic. that was the world he would use to describe valkyn arena. it was just a mess of complete and utter chaos. not even tequila wolf in the midst of revolution had been this bad and he could only watch in thinly veiled disgust as some poor fool was mugged, the marines merely thirty feet away simply glancing at each other worriedly before scurrying away like mice from a cat. he frowned, stepping out of the shadows to tap one of the muggers on the shoulder, delivering a well-deserved punch to the face when the man turned around. the mugger's cronies could only stare in shock as he grinned, showing a row of white teeth and asked, "so, whose next?" either their boss had never been beaten before or they were weaker than they thought, because they took one look at him before high tailing it out of there, muttering about crazy monsters under their breath. cairo simply shrugged, turning to check on the man who had almost been mugged, but he had disappeared too. "tch. ungrateful bastard," he grumbled, before glancing at the unconscious man on the ground that had been left behind and rolling his eyes. not really caring what happened to the man, he turned and strolled out of the "alley" (that was more of an actual street, really) into the crowded streets, wondering if there was any place in valkyn arena with some decent apple pie.[/style][/style] [style=height: 30; font-family: impact; font-size: 30px; color: 141414; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: -7px]whatever that means [/style]

[style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style]

[shark]

Tiburon took a sigh that exampled his lack of enthusiasm of the day. Hot blazing sun above head. As a shark nothing was worst than being out of water. Sure he had learned to stay out of water and not die even if he never went back into water, but still being away from it for simply a few short minutes would no doubt leave a shark in a feeling of withdrawal.

He wiped a streak of sweat from his forehead as he came around another corner. He had no set destination and was simply roaming. Although, a fight would have been nice. He was always up for shedding some blood. Ahh the scent of blood, he thought to himself with a smirk. Maybe he could find some helpless marine or civilian to dig his fangs into and taste that crimson liquid.

Either way, Tiburon stopped when he saw a unfamiliar face coming down the street. He hadn't seen him before but he knew a shark when he saw one. He waited for the man to draw closer to him before he spoke with his cold malicious filled smirk, "A little far from home aren't you?"

[Zambezi Long]

The blonde continued walking down the street without any pause, walking with purpose as his eyes continued to scan the streets. Someone who could be his crew mate. To find such a thing was a difficult task. Where did one begin? Where did one look? Zambezi sought out people who could join him and find a purpose in taking on the World Government itself. He sought people who had some belief in justice, some passion in taking what was wrong with this world and making it right. People who gave a damn about the little man and would not tolerate the discrimination and hypocrisy of the current rulers of the seas. As it stood, it was much easier said than done, but that did not mean Zambezi gave up hope. There were always ways.

Then, as it were, a voice called out to him. Just further down the street, a young man called out to him, remarking just how far from home he was. Zambezi stopped, taking a look at the young man as his eyes focused on him. A tall man with white hair, albeit he was still shorter than Zambezi. He spoke so confidently, so sure of himself as he noted how far from home Zambezi was. At the very least, being able to note that Zambezi was a Fishman or that he was from Fishman Island wasn't particularly impressive - he made no attempt to hide his heritage. But there was something about him that felt familiar... Or rather, something about him that felt just like home. Zambezi couldn't put his finger on it, but he chose to ignore it in favor of replying.

"Ah... I have my reasons for coming here," he spoke, not quite as gracefully as he would have liked. Still, nevertheless, he collected himself and stepped towards the man, now that they had begun to converse. "Long. Zambezi Long. Might I know your name?" he asked, deciding to take the simplest option of sticking to social convention. It wasn't terribly difficult to figure out, but Zambezi was a little... Awkward at making small talk. Speaking out against the World Government he could do with ease. Speaking with another person was a little more difficult. It was rather amusing when you saw it happen, but nevertheless he maintained a straight face.

As the two spoke however, some of the residents began to move about a bit. You didn't simply stop anywhere in Valkyn Arena for too long. When you stayed in one place, people began getting ideas. Seeing this guy, even a big Fishman, speaking politely like some kind of gentleman, they got ideas in their heads that he wasn't as tough as his kin would imply. So right now, a skinny, pale-skinned man began to skulk, walking down the street with a hand in his pocket, where he clutched a switchblade knife. It was simple. He'd get close, stab, and take the guy's wallet. That was how the guy thought. It didn't matter if he was talking with another guy - that just gave the would-be mugger an opportunity to get close.

[CAIRO D. CAELUS]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 300px] [style=height: 30px; width: 300px; font-family: impact; font-size: 30px; color: 141414; text-transform: uppercase]keeping the peace [/style][style=width: 300px; background-image: url(http://i41.tinypic.com/s67p7b.png); background-repeat: repeat][style=float: left; height: 3px; width: 290px; background-color: 0095A5; margin-top: 30px][/style][style=height: 100px; width: 100px; float: right; margin-right: 10px; border: 2px solid 0095A5; margin-top: -20px][/style][style=width: 170px; height: 50px; font-family: verdana; color: FFFFFF; font-size: 10px; padding: 10px]music over the clouds - alan. words two four zero. notes ... and now i want apple pie ;A;[/style][style=font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; color: D0D0D0; text-align: justify; padding: 60 10 20 10]he could feel the crowd around him growing restless and he furrowed his brows, disappearing into the crowd like he had done it his entire life which he kinda had. no one noticed, just thinking that he was another street thug from some part of the city and, well, he did have that look about him. though he would need to buy some new clothes whenever he next had the money, but right now he needed to focus on the two fishmen, who kept getting glances from the crowd, and someone who was sneaking up on the blonde one. he blinked before sighing in annoyance. it was one of the muggers from before. "can't they just take a day off?" he grumbled to himself, moving this way and that to get to the edge of the crowd, where he could easily stop the mugger or warn the two fishmen, whichever was more convenient. and right now, it looked like stopping the mugger himself would be the simpler option. sighing once again, he strolled forward and called out in an indifferent voice, "yo" and waved a hand in greeting. the mugger paused, turning a fearful eye towards him, and leaving himself wide open for an attack from either of the two fishmen. [/style][/style] [style=height: 30; font-family: impact; font-size: 30px; color: 141414; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: -7px]whatever that means [/style]

[style=font-size: 8px]made by KING of PRE & OTE[/style]