- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
[Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Tue Sep 19, 2017 8:38 pm
A shrill whistle of steam heralded the arrival of the famed Sea Train. White puffs escaped to the sky as it calmly rolled to a stop. Soon a colorful stream of people poured out to the station. These weren’t the rough sailors and average commoners who sailed the seas. No, these were the upper class, the rich and refined who could afford such luxury. …Or at least dressed for the part as was the case with a certain lanky fellow. In his chocolate-brown suit and heavy suitcase, he looked like any honest businessman. Funny how that worked.
Richard Maxwell, the Plague Rat as some called him, covered his mouth from what was hopefully the last yawn of the morning. It had been another hasty departure, this time from San Faldo. The carnival city would’ve been good for business if it hadn’t been for those meddling Marines. Had to get out quick. No better option than an overnight trip on a sea train. Tended to be rather expensive though. Comfort and safety didn’t come cheap, see. Fortunately, some kind soul was generous enough to provide him a ticket. Granted, said soul didn’t know that and was quite likely still feverishly searching for it, but rest assured their contribution was most appreciated.
When it came to train travel, the obvious destination would have been Water 7. Plenty of boats to choose from, destination anywhere. A perfect spot for any traveler. Bit too perfect actually. Richard wasn’t naïve enough to think the Marine from San Faldo would keep his word. If anything, there would probably be a welcoming committee waiting for him at Water 7. After all, the floating city was just a short trip away from… well, best not to dwell on that. Too much stress. Thus he had arrived to St. Poplar instead, the Town of the Spring Queen as they called it. A lovely town really. Beautiful buildings… Pleasantly mild weather… Ah yes and plenty of wealthy, unsuspecting tourists.
Stepping out to the open streets, the rat set down his suitcase and idly rummaged his deep pockets. A lighter clicked a flame and his unhealthy vice started painting a gray trail. Hopefully the soothing smoke would focus his thoughts. You see, something had been bugging him for a good while now. It was that classic, nagging feeling that he had forgotten something integral to the story. "I wonder why I stopped coming here...?" As soon as the idle mutter left the rat’s lips, his wandering gaze stopped on an awfully familiar-looking blue base towering at the heart of the town. Awful was the operating word here. Never had been a fan of that particular shade of blue. "…Right. " He turned on his heels and headed back inside. You know, on a second thought, Water 7 sounded rather inviting right about now.
Unfortunately, Lady Fortuna had a strange sense of humor. Just a glance at the train schedules told the crook more than he wanted to know. Best case scenario, he was stuck here for a couple of hours. Worst case? Several hours. Well, wasn’t this day off to a fine start?
Sweep the area! The pirate must be here somewhere!
One mild heart-attack later the rat found himself hiding behind a convenient pillar of the decorative sort. Clutching his suitcase with both arms, he struggled to swallow a clump of anxiety. A large squad of uniformed soldiers swarmed the station. Their rhythmic footsteps were drowning his thoughts. It could have been a mere coincidence, but considering the past week’s events… Well, let’s just say the dishonest doctor had plenty of reason to be cautious. It wasn’t paranoia if they really were after him.
Carefully Richard peeked from hiding. So… The whole station was now crawling with these uniformed hounds. They were sorting through people, questioning them by the looks of it. One after another. In an orderly fashion, as they said. Nothing had been shut down though. Not yet at least. The ticket lines were still moving. And the exit was… all the way over there at the other end of the busy hall. Just… wonderful. The rat racked his brain for a way out. He needed… a distraction… or a scapegoat… Or at the very least a hint on who exactly was the target here. As it was, the gnawing doubts had him second-guessing every plan that popped into his mind.
Richard Maxwell, the Plague Rat as some called him, covered his mouth from what was hopefully the last yawn of the morning. It had been another hasty departure, this time from San Faldo. The carnival city would’ve been good for business if it hadn’t been for those meddling Marines. Had to get out quick. No better option than an overnight trip on a sea train. Tended to be rather expensive though. Comfort and safety didn’t come cheap, see. Fortunately, some kind soul was generous enough to provide him a ticket. Granted, said soul didn’t know that and was quite likely still feverishly searching for it, but rest assured their contribution was most appreciated.
When it came to train travel, the obvious destination would have been Water 7. Plenty of boats to choose from, destination anywhere. A perfect spot for any traveler. Bit too perfect actually. Richard wasn’t naïve enough to think the Marine from San Faldo would keep his word. If anything, there would probably be a welcoming committee waiting for him at Water 7. After all, the floating city was just a short trip away from… well, best not to dwell on that. Too much stress. Thus he had arrived to St. Poplar instead, the Town of the Spring Queen as they called it. A lovely town really. Beautiful buildings… Pleasantly mild weather… Ah yes and plenty of wealthy, unsuspecting tourists.
Stepping out to the open streets, the rat set down his suitcase and idly rummaged his deep pockets. A lighter clicked a flame and his unhealthy vice started painting a gray trail. Hopefully the soothing smoke would focus his thoughts. You see, something had been bugging him for a good while now. It was that classic, nagging feeling that he had forgotten something integral to the story. "I wonder why I stopped coming here...?" As soon as the idle mutter left the rat’s lips, his wandering gaze stopped on an awfully familiar-looking blue base towering at the heart of the town. Awful was the operating word here. Never had been a fan of that particular shade of blue. "…Right. " He turned on his heels and headed back inside. You know, on a second thought, Water 7 sounded rather inviting right about now.
Unfortunately, Lady Fortuna had a strange sense of humor. Just a glance at the train schedules told the crook more than he wanted to know. Best case scenario, he was stuck here for a couple of hours. Worst case? Several hours. Well, wasn’t this day off to a fine start?
Sweep the area! The pirate must be here somewhere!
One mild heart-attack later the rat found himself hiding behind a convenient pillar of the decorative sort. Clutching his suitcase with both arms, he struggled to swallow a clump of anxiety. A large squad of uniformed soldiers swarmed the station. Their rhythmic footsteps were drowning his thoughts. It could have been a mere coincidence, but considering the past week’s events… Well, let’s just say the dishonest doctor had plenty of reason to be cautious. It wasn’t paranoia if they really were after him.
Carefully Richard peeked from hiding. So… The whole station was now crawling with these uniformed hounds. They were sorting through people, questioning them by the looks of it. One after another. In an orderly fashion, as they said. Nothing had been shut down though. Not yet at least. The ticket lines were still moving. And the exit was… all the way over there at the other end of the busy hall. Just… wonderful. The rat racked his brain for a way out. He needed… a distraction… or a scapegoat… Or at the very least a hint on who exactly was the target here. As it was, the gnawing doubts had him second-guessing every plan that popped into his mind.
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
- GuestGuest
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Wed Nov 01, 2017 3:24 am
Don't cause a scene~!
Alice B. Ronx found himself pressed uncomfortably by the crowd into a wall. His goal was to get on the next train headed back to Water 7, given that it should be around about this time his crew had finally realised he’d left the island. Abandoning them at Water 7 had seemed like a bright idea when he’d boarded the Sea Train for St. Poplar earlier in the morning, but he quickly started having second thoughts. Originally, his intentions were to visit an old amusement from his childhood: the St. Poplar marine base. It hasn’t exactly occurred to him that a over a decade earlier, the marines could make allowances for the mischiefs of children and puffed their chests in pride when their admiring, bright eyes watched the marines’ every move with rever.
The other thing Ronx had somehow managed to overlook was that he now just so happened to be a wanted criminal; an enemy of the law-abiding officers, if one were to be so inclined to put it. However, one couldn’t entirely blame the young revolutionary for forgetting his position every so often, especially since everyone around him tended to forget too. This was on account of his wanted poster being so ridiculous a depiction of him and all the poster ever really served to do was provide a good laugh for himself and those he wished to entertain. So how was he supposed to predict the marines to start chasing him the minute he stepped foot through those doors?
Ronx was incredibly miffed that his marine base tour had been cut off so short, especially given he had only done so in remembrance of his diseased sister, whose dream had been to become a marine at St. Poplar. It had been so long since his last visit to his hometown in Water 7, that such a visit to St. Poplar should only have been expected from the young man. However, he hadn’t been completely out of luck. When he ducked back into the station, Ronx found himself swept in a stampede by another group of marines. Their intent was on another criminal who conveniently wasn’t Ronx, which made it all the easier to lose his own pursuers.
Now, pressed up against a wall with other patrons of the station, Ronx tried to turn away and wriggle free and make for the train waiting on the platform. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was headed for Water 7, but how could he possibly go wrong? Besides, getting on a random train had to be enormously more ideal than the uncomfortable position he was currently in and he had just managed to pull free when a rigid hand clamped over his shoulder. He immediately squealed in surprise and the hand whirled him around to face a marine.
“Evening, sir!” he yelped, straightening and saluting stiffly.
The marine shot him an incredulous look. “At ease,” he commanded, mostly to amuse the young man before holding up a withered brown paper in front of his face. “Have you seen this woman?”
Ronx glanced over the poster, but a voice called from behind him, interrupting him before he could say anything.
“She’s over there!”
The poster was immediately snatched away and the marine abruptly abandoned his questioning with Ronx, his mouth still agape mid-mention of how a woman strikingly similar to the photograph was just several paces away from where he stood. She ducked hastily behind a pillar as a couple marines ran past chasing her phantom. Curious, Ronx slipped through the crowd and found himself crouching behind her. She had his back to him, peeking cautiously around the pillar which provided her cover and from where Ronx crouched, he witnessed an amusing enough scene of two dubious characters, both watching the searching marines from either ends of the pillar. What was more amusing was that they didn’t appear to notice one another.
The female pirate aside, her fellow fugitive was a shifty creature despite his smart dress, and though Ronx knew the man wasn’t the subject of the search, the fact that he clearly seemed to believe he had reason to be arrested made him appear all the more suspicious than the actual pirate in question. Ronx had an inkling he had seen the man before, but failing to recall the exact events or details, he simply pushed the thought away. Instead, he was far more interested to be a part of the fun the two were so clearly involved in.
“Hey, aren’t you the one on the wanted poster?” he asked lightheartedly.
Whether it was on purpose or not that he failed to mention who exactly it was on the poster—the female pirate or the shady businessman, possibly a pirate himself—he certainly received an amusing enough response from the former and the latter would be determined sooner or later. At the sound of his voice, she immediately whirled around, her jaw dropped in a soundless cry and her clear emerald eyes bulging at him. At the same time, she shuffled away as though to distance herself from the blonde man, only to slam the back of her head into the pillar and she finished the performance clutching her head, her body twitching with pain. This only prompted a burst of lively laughter from the young revolutionary.
Yes, this was exactly what he was looking for and with that thought, he completely forgot about the crew he had left on Water 7. The crew currently searching frantically all over the city for their irresponsible captain without quite realising he was on a completely different island altogether.
The other thing Ronx had somehow managed to overlook was that he now just so happened to be a wanted criminal; an enemy of the law-abiding officers, if one were to be so inclined to put it. However, one couldn’t entirely blame the young revolutionary for forgetting his position every so often, especially since everyone around him tended to forget too. This was on account of his wanted poster being so ridiculous a depiction of him and all the poster ever really served to do was provide a good laugh for himself and those he wished to entertain. So how was he supposed to predict the marines to start chasing him the minute he stepped foot through those doors?
Ronx was incredibly miffed that his marine base tour had been cut off so short, especially given he had only done so in remembrance of his diseased sister, whose dream had been to become a marine at St. Poplar. It had been so long since his last visit to his hometown in Water 7, that such a visit to St. Poplar should only have been expected from the young man. However, he hadn’t been completely out of luck. When he ducked back into the station, Ronx found himself swept in a stampede by another group of marines. Their intent was on another criminal who conveniently wasn’t Ronx, which made it all the easier to lose his own pursuers.
Now, pressed up against a wall with other patrons of the station, Ronx tried to turn away and wriggle free and make for the train waiting on the platform. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was headed for Water 7, but how could he possibly go wrong? Besides, getting on a random train had to be enormously more ideal than the uncomfortable position he was currently in and he had just managed to pull free when a rigid hand clamped over his shoulder. He immediately squealed in surprise and the hand whirled him around to face a marine.
“Evening, sir!” he yelped, straightening and saluting stiffly.
The marine shot him an incredulous look. “At ease,” he commanded, mostly to amuse the young man before holding up a withered brown paper in front of his face. “Have you seen this woman?”
Ronx glanced over the poster, but a voice called from behind him, interrupting him before he could say anything.
“She’s over there!”
The poster was immediately snatched away and the marine abruptly abandoned his questioning with Ronx, his mouth still agape mid-mention of how a woman strikingly similar to the photograph was just several paces away from where he stood. She ducked hastily behind a pillar as a couple marines ran past chasing her phantom. Curious, Ronx slipped through the crowd and found himself crouching behind her. She had his back to him, peeking cautiously around the pillar which provided her cover and from where Ronx crouched, he witnessed an amusing enough scene of two dubious characters, both watching the searching marines from either ends of the pillar. What was more amusing was that they didn’t appear to notice one another.
The female pirate aside, her fellow fugitive was a shifty creature despite his smart dress, and though Ronx knew the man wasn’t the subject of the search, the fact that he clearly seemed to believe he had reason to be arrested made him appear all the more suspicious than the actual pirate in question. Ronx had an inkling he had seen the man before, but failing to recall the exact events or details, he simply pushed the thought away. Instead, he was far more interested to be a part of the fun the two were so clearly involved in.
“Hey, aren’t you the one on the wanted poster?” he asked lightheartedly.
Whether it was on purpose or not that he failed to mention who exactly it was on the poster—the female pirate or the shady businessman, possibly a pirate himself—he certainly received an amusing enough response from the former and the latter would be determined sooner or later. At the sound of his voice, she immediately whirled around, her jaw dropped in a soundless cry and her clear emerald eyes bulging at him. At the same time, she shuffled away as though to distance herself from the blonde man, only to slam the back of her head into the pillar and she finished the performance clutching her head, her body twitching with pain. This only prompted a burst of lively laughter from the young revolutionary.
Yes, this was exactly what he was looking for and with that thought, he completely forgot about the crew he had left on Water 7. The crew currently searching frantically all over the city for their irresponsible captain without quite realising he was on a completely different island altogether.
- STATS TRACKER:
HP: 250
Attack: 275
Defense: 300
Reflex: 335
Willpower: 300
- 0 TECHNIQUES USED | 0 PASSIVES USED | 0 ACTIVES USED:
- DAMAGE TRACKER:
- TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:
- NPC TRACKER 0:
cait at btn
- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Fri Nov 03, 2017 6:44 am
The crook’s pondering was cut short by perhaps the second worst thing to hear as a wanted criminal. Lighthearted or not. His widening eyes zipped towards the voice. A buzz of questions filled his head. Who, what, how? Gah, he never should have trusted his vague wanted poster to keep people off his tail. Of course someone would catch on eventually. For a moment there he just froze in place with that incredulous look, trying to figure out what was so eerily familiar about this blonde stranger. Silver lining, the fellow clearly wasn’t a marine what with the lack of uniform. Actually, looked more like...
Oh.
Oh no.
The imaginary puzzle pieces clicked into place. Now complete, a recent memory flashed through Richard’s mind. It was the crazy revolutionary from Alabasta. Small world, huh? Though the name escaped him, he never forgot a face, you know, especially when the face had caused him trouble in the past. Something told him this time wouldn’t be much different. See the thing about revolutionaries was that their whole agenda was to upset the order, rock the boat as it were. A terrible idea really. Especially on this particular island.
While the female pirate hit her head, the shady businessman recovered from his shock. ...Still blissfully unaware of the fellow criminal. The venom green eyes narrowed at the blonde. His shaky hands went through a frantic series of gestures, something akin to a big hush and zip it even. Or maybe he was just very eager to borrow some lipstick. Pantomime wasn’t an exact science. Hopefully the noisy fellow would get the hint before things got messy. The last thing either of them needed was a whole base of angry Marines after them. With every unnecessary sound the blonde boy made, a vivid image of a child poking a beehive sprung to mind...
Unfortunately the suspicious people had drawn some unwanted attention already. Hey, you there! Vague though it were, the sudden shout threatened to freeze Richard’s blood. He just knew it was directed at him. True enough, three more of those uniformed hounds marched his way. Wonderful. Exactly the people he didn’t want to meet today. Or ever. The rat was quick to try and scooch further behind the pillar, only to bump into someone. He glanced over his shoulder to find a startled pair of emerald eyes staring right back at him. Today was about to get a whole lot more complicated, wasn’t it?
Oh.
Oh no.
The imaginary puzzle pieces clicked into place. Now complete, a recent memory flashed through Richard’s mind. It was the crazy revolutionary from Alabasta. Small world, huh? Though the name escaped him, he never forgot a face, you know, especially when the face had caused him trouble in the past. Something told him this time wouldn’t be much different. See the thing about revolutionaries was that their whole agenda was to upset the order, rock the boat as it were. A terrible idea really. Especially on this particular island.
While the female pirate hit her head, the shady businessman recovered from his shock. ...Still blissfully unaware of the fellow criminal. The venom green eyes narrowed at the blonde. His shaky hands went through a frantic series of gestures, something akin to a big hush and zip it even. Or maybe he was just very eager to borrow some lipstick. Pantomime wasn’t an exact science. Hopefully the noisy fellow would get the hint before things got messy. The last thing either of them needed was a whole base of angry Marines after them. With every unnecessary sound the blonde boy made, a vivid image of a child poking a beehive sprung to mind...
Unfortunately the suspicious people had drawn some unwanted attention already. Hey, you there! Vague though it were, the sudden shout threatened to freeze Richard’s blood. He just knew it was directed at him. True enough, three more of those uniformed hounds marched his way. Wonderful. Exactly the people he didn’t want to meet today. Or ever. The rat was quick to try and scooch further behind the pillar, only to bump into someone. He glanced over his shoulder to find a startled pair of emerald eyes staring right back at him. Today was about to get a whole lot more complicated, wasn’t it?
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
- GuestGuest
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Sat Nov 11, 2017 2:11 am
Don't cause a scene~!
Ronx watched with great interest at the series of mime movements from the shady businessman. The more he looked at him, the more he thought about how he must have seen him somewhere. But for the time being, the thin man’s performance was far too entertaining to be thinking about secondary thoughts and though the young revolutionary extracted the message clearly enough, he still couldn’t help giggling into his palms. As one could imagine, it was hard for three characters, one as dubious-looking as the next, to remain unnoticed for long when they gathered so conspicuously. This was largely the fault of the fancy-dressed man who had barged in on the other two’s apparent efforts to remain at a low-profile and when an authoritative voice sounded from behind him, the two pirates before him immediately scuffled into hiding. The only problem was that the space they had to work with was incredibly limited and when the businessman shuffled into the female pirate, the two came to a surprising, if not unwelcoming, first impression.
“Watch it!” she spluttered, while simultaneously attempting to secure her own escape.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” shouted the marine and Ronx jumped in surprise when a hand clamped over his shoulder. Again.
He spun awkwardly on heels, only to topple backwards onto the two pirate behind him. The female pirate immediately took advantage of the situation and ducked her head under his mantle to hide herself. Not exactly the most elegant of hiding spots, but she had seemed to realise that she was still safe. For the moment.
“You’re talking to me?” asked Ronx incredulously.
The marine opened his mouth, before pausing and narrowing his eyes as though to examine the revolutionary commander’s face. “No, it can’t be…” he muttered, before shifting his eyes to the shady businessman behind him. “Wait, you too…?” This marine’s eyes were beyond ordinary to identify not one, but two criminals with obscure and unreliable wanted posters and by the looks of the gears turning in his head, he was close to a hefty promotion if he managed to catch all three criminals in one fell swoop. Fancy skill as it was, his mistake was to take far too long snatching so fleeting an opportunity. “What’s your name?” he barked suspiciously.
“My name?” echoed Ronx brightly. “I’m Alice B. Ronx! Nice to meet you!”
Wrong answer. Not moments before the words left his mouth, two things happened. First, the marine’s eyes widened with disbelief and recognition, and he reached for the pistol resting in the holster at his hip. Second, the female pirate hiding under his mantle gasped and dragged herself out.
“Ronx?!” she exclaimed, all but falling over his shoulders in an attempt to obtain a better view of his face. “It’s really you!”
With chaos ensuing front, back and centre, Ronx had trouble deciding how to best allocate his attention, but when the woman jerked his neck to a precarious angle to face her, he had little choice in the matter. “Pardon me, but do I know you?” he asked cordially, despite the aching of his neck.
“No!” she all but screamed at him in her excitement and she shot to her feet, jerking Ronx’s neck even further and forcing him up with her. Something clicked in her mind and released his face, spinning around to the other pirate who had shuffled into her. “And you!” she pointed boldly down at him. “I can’t believe how lucky I am!”
“Hold it! All three of you need to put your hands behind your heads,” came the marine officer’s voice, who now had his pistol firmly raised and pointed at their dysfunctional group.
“Oh, go bother someone else. I’m trying to make a good impression here!” scoffed the woman, flicking her hand dismissively at him. Her words compelled a delighted laugh from the revolutionary commander, a response which the female pirate seemed to receive with great pride.
“I won’t ask a second time!”
“Ah, what should we do?” asked Ronx between chuckles. “This seems like a lot of fun now.”
“Watch it!” she spluttered, while simultaneously attempting to secure her own escape.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” shouted the marine and Ronx jumped in surprise when a hand clamped over his shoulder. Again.
He spun awkwardly on heels, only to topple backwards onto the two pirate behind him. The female pirate immediately took advantage of the situation and ducked her head under his mantle to hide herself. Not exactly the most elegant of hiding spots, but she had seemed to realise that she was still safe. For the moment.
“You’re talking to me?” asked Ronx incredulously.
The marine opened his mouth, before pausing and narrowing his eyes as though to examine the revolutionary commander’s face. “No, it can’t be…” he muttered, before shifting his eyes to the shady businessman behind him. “Wait, you too…?” This marine’s eyes were beyond ordinary to identify not one, but two criminals with obscure and unreliable wanted posters and by the looks of the gears turning in his head, he was close to a hefty promotion if he managed to catch all three criminals in one fell swoop. Fancy skill as it was, his mistake was to take far too long snatching so fleeting an opportunity. “What’s your name?” he barked suspiciously.
“My name?” echoed Ronx brightly. “I’m Alice B. Ronx! Nice to meet you!”
Wrong answer. Not moments before the words left his mouth, two things happened. First, the marine’s eyes widened with disbelief and recognition, and he reached for the pistol resting in the holster at his hip. Second, the female pirate hiding under his mantle gasped and dragged herself out.
“Ronx?!” she exclaimed, all but falling over his shoulders in an attempt to obtain a better view of his face. “It’s really you!”
With chaos ensuing front, back and centre, Ronx had trouble deciding how to best allocate his attention, but when the woman jerked his neck to a precarious angle to face her, he had little choice in the matter. “Pardon me, but do I know you?” he asked cordially, despite the aching of his neck.
“No!” she all but screamed at him in her excitement and she shot to her feet, jerking Ronx’s neck even further and forcing him up with her. Something clicked in her mind and released his face, spinning around to the other pirate who had shuffled into her. “And you!” she pointed boldly down at him. “I can’t believe how lucky I am!”
“Hold it! All three of you need to put your hands behind your heads,” came the marine officer’s voice, who now had his pistol firmly raised and pointed at their dysfunctional group.
“Oh, go bother someone else. I’m trying to make a good impression here!” scoffed the woman, flicking her hand dismissively at him. Her words compelled a delighted laugh from the revolutionary commander, a response which the female pirate seemed to receive with great pride.
“I won’t ask a second time!”
“Ah, what should we do?” asked Ronx between chuckles. “This seems like a lot of fun now.”
- STATS TRACKER:
HP: 250
Attack: 275
Defense: 300
Reflex: 335
Willpower: 300
- 0 TECHNIQUES USED | 0 PASSIVES USED | 0 ACTIVES USED:
- DAMAGE TRACKER:
- TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:
- NPC TRACKER 0:
cait at btn
- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Tue Nov 14, 2017 5:09 am
Before the crook could feign an apology and be on his way, the marine pack blocked the escape route. He tried to keep his head low, to tug the wide brim of the hat just a little further down. Unfortunately, the tell-tale signs of a dog catching a scent were written all over the nosy commander. What they needed to do now was buy time, deny everything... Richard recoiled in wide-eyed, slack-jawed shock. ...And not shout their real name for the whole station to hear!
Worse yet, the marine wasn’t the only one who seemed to recognize the doctor. Unfortunately his reputation seemed to precede him... Smiling wryly, he leaned back from the pointing finger. "Well, that makes one of us..." Lucky. Right. Not the word he would use here, not with these two around. Even in the face of imminent danger, they... dared to joke and laugh. The businessman, however, only managed a flat stare. So, they were both crazy. Lovely. Briefly he had to wonder if they were actively trying to get shot.
While the disaster duo held the marine officer’s attention, the rat was already scooting away. Inch by inch. So very subtly. Until a sharp glare froze him on his tracks anyway. The subtlety was tossed aside as he made a whole show of looking at his watch. "Good heavens, look at the time! I would love to stay and chat, buuuut I really must be going... Eheh, so... If you just excuse me..." All that earned him was the barrel aimed specifically his way. His trembling fingers reached up to try and adjust the tie that suddenly felt two sizes too tight. "Erm, i-if you insist..." He could barely squeak it past the clump of panic growing in his throat.
Growing a tad desperate, the crook caaaarefully lifted a defensive hand. "N-now, let’s not be too hasty. I’m sure there is a reasonable solution here..." The venom green eyes darted back and forth, searching for any exit. Suddenly his stare widened in utter shock and aimed a dramatic point at the crowd past the commander. "Hey look, a World Noble!" It was honestly a stretch, wasn’t it? No one would possibly- "Where?!" Well, it was just a short slip of attention, merely a quick glance over the shoulder, but... When the briefly distracted and now a little red-faced marine looked back, Richard was already fleeing in full sprint.
Cue complete chaos.
Without wasting a moment, the commander gathered his authority into a deep breath and... "Stop right there, criminal scum!" The rough shout turned heads, civilian and otherwise. A gunshot rang out. People shrieked. Panic spread like ripples in a pond. So much for remaining inconspicuous... But to be fair, running was better than getting shot on the spot.
Worse yet, the marine wasn’t the only one who seemed to recognize the doctor. Unfortunately his reputation seemed to precede him... Smiling wryly, he leaned back from the pointing finger. "Well, that makes one of us..." Lucky. Right. Not the word he would use here, not with these two around. Even in the face of imminent danger, they... dared to joke and laugh. The businessman, however, only managed a flat stare. So, they were both crazy. Lovely. Briefly he had to wonder if they were actively trying to get shot.
While the disaster duo held the marine officer’s attention, the rat was already scooting away. Inch by inch. So very subtly. Until a sharp glare froze him on his tracks anyway. The subtlety was tossed aside as he made a whole show of looking at his watch. "Good heavens, look at the time! I would love to stay and chat, buuuut I really must be going... Eheh, so... If you just excuse me..." All that earned him was the barrel aimed specifically his way. His trembling fingers reached up to try and adjust the tie that suddenly felt two sizes too tight. "Erm, i-if you insist..." He could barely squeak it past the clump of panic growing in his throat.
Growing a tad desperate, the crook caaaarefully lifted a defensive hand. "N-now, let’s not be too hasty. I’m sure there is a reasonable solution here..." The venom green eyes darted back and forth, searching for any exit. Suddenly his stare widened in utter shock and aimed a dramatic point at the crowd past the commander. "Hey look, a World Noble!" It was honestly a stretch, wasn’t it? No one would possibly- "Where?!" Well, it was just a short slip of attention, merely a quick glance over the shoulder, but... When the briefly distracted and now a little red-faced marine looked back, Richard was already fleeing in full sprint.
Cue complete chaos.
Without wasting a moment, the commander gathered his authority into a deep breath and... "Stop right there, criminal scum!" The rough shout turned heads, civilian and otherwise. A gunshot rang out. People shrieked. Panic spread like ripples in a pond. So much for remaining inconspicuous... But to be fair, running was better than getting shot on the spot.
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
- GuestGuest
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Fri Nov 17, 2017 7:33 pm
Don't cause a scene~!
“Hold it!” came the panicked cry from the duped marine, clearly regretting his oversight of such a simple trick. By now, his colleagues had seemed to have caught onto their small commotion and the sound a stampede of marines filled the area, coming to a halt once they had uniformingly surrounded the criminal.
“He...is he trying to be a decoy for us?” asked the female pirate, her eyes glistening with admiration. “Quick, Mr. Ronx, we can’t allow Mr. Maxwell’s sacrifice to come to no use!”
“That was his plan all along?” gasped Ronx with realisation and seemed ready to salute the businessman. Perhaps these marines had rubbed off on him a little too much. “I’m so sorry for thinking he seemed suspicious!”
With a new and reformed outlook of the thin man, who was now completely encircled by several marines like the prey of sharks, Ronx and the female pirate were left virtually unattended and they started to tiptoe around them. Unfortunately, if an escape could have been so easy a thing, they wouldn’t have found themselves in such a position to begin with and soon, each were looking straight into the barrel of a gun.
“Hands behind heads?” asked Ronx, a little miffed with his childish pout, as though he had been caught with his hands sticky and still reaching into the candy jar.
The marines nodded hesitantly, perhaps a little uneasy with his non-confrontational attitude, maybe suspecting the young revolutionary to have some scheme brewing under his mass of spiky, blonde hair. Anyone who knew Ronx half as well as they would have liked to would know that this was hardly the case, but even the female pirate beside him seemed to believe the same idea the marines did. Perhaps this was why the woman seemed so confident as the marines herded the three criminals together into one group again, her hands planted casually over her ginger curls.
“Apologies to let your sacrifice go to waste,” whispered Ronx to the older man, his demeanour not so dissimilar to that of a dejected pup. “I promise to make it up to you later.”
His words only seemed to excite the only female of their group. “So you do have a plan to get us out of this after all?” she hissed excitedly, which only prompted a marine to bark at her, a warning to hold her tongue.
He certainly didn’t have such a plan, but the woman’s glittering eyes seemed to ignite a flame and Ronx was in no hurry to correct her misunderstanding. “We’ll have to see!” he told her with a hint of mystery and the delight in her eyes only made his desire to show off all the more prominent.
Sure, his second companion (whom he had already decided in his head to be a comrade) may have been less enthusiastic, but his inflated ego hardly minded at this point and anymore encouragement might only prove to worsen the situation. And to clarify, not much good could possibly come out of a fickle, flamboyant, fun-loving young man when he was in the mood for some flaunting. Especially when he was in a situation where discretion was often the more preferable option.
Silver cuffs flashed out and three marines approached the group warily, reaching for their wrists.
“Oh hell no!” snarled the female pirate. “You’re not putting those on me!” She lashed out at the closest flustered marine who held her cuffs and then all hell broke loose.
“He...is he trying to be a decoy for us?” asked the female pirate, her eyes glistening with admiration. “Quick, Mr. Ronx, we can’t allow Mr. Maxwell’s sacrifice to come to no use!”
“That was his plan all along?” gasped Ronx with realisation and seemed ready to salute the businessman. Perhaps these marines had rubbed off on him a little too much. “I’m so sorry for thinking he seemed suspicious!”
With a new and reformed outlook of the thin man, who was now completely encircled by several marines like the prey of sharks, Ronx and the female pirate were left virtually unattended and they started to tiptoe around them. Unfortunately, if an escape could have been so easy a thing, they wouldn’t have found themselves in such a position to begin with and soon, each were looking straight into the barrel of a gun.
“Hands behind heads?” asked Ronx, a little miffed with his childish pout, as though he had been caught with his hands sticky and still reaching into the candy jar.
The marines nodded hesitantly, perhaps a little uneasy with his non-confrontational attitude, maybe suspecting the young revolutionary to have some scheme brewing under his mass of spiky, blonde hair. Anyone who knew Ronx half as well as they would have liked to would know that this was hardly the case, but even the female pirate beside him seemed to believe the same idea the marines did. Perhaps this was why the woman seemed so confident as the marines herded the three criminals together into one group again, her hands planted casually over her ginger curls.
“Apologies to let your sacrifice go to waste,” whispered Ronx to the older man, his demeanour not so dissimilar to that of a dejected pup. “I promise to make it up to you later.”
His words only seemed to excite the only female of their group. “So you do have a plan to get us out of this after all?” she hissed excitedly, which only prompted a marine to bark at her, a warning to hold her tongue.
He certainly didn’t have such a plan, but the woman’s glittering eyes seemed to ignite a flame and Ronx was in no hurry to correct her misunderstanding. “We’ll have to see!” he told her with a hint of mystery and the delight in her eyes only made his desire to show off all the more prominent.
Sure, his second companion (whom he had already decided in his head to be a comrade) may have been less enthusiastic, but his inflated ego hardly minded at this point and anymore encouragement might only prove to worsen the situation. And to clarify, not much good could possibly come out of a fickle, flamboyant, fun-loving young man when he was in the mood for some flaunting. Especially when he was in a situation where discretion was often the more preferable option.
Silver cuffs flashed out and three marines approached the group warily, reaching for their wrists.
“Oh hell no!” snarled the female pirate. “You’re not putting those on me!” She lashed out at the closest flustered marine who held her cuffs and then all hell broke loose.
- STATS TRACKER:
HP: 250
Attack: 275
Defense: 300
Reflex: 335
Willpower: 300
- 0 TECHNIQUES USED | 0 PASSIVES USED | 0 ACTIVES USED:
- DAMAGE TRACKER:
- TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:
- NPC TRACKER 0:
cait at btn
- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Mon Nov 20, 2017 9:14 pm
Unsurprisingly, the rat didn’t make it very far before his escape route was blocked. Being awfully outnumbered tended to do that. Coming to a skidding halt just before hitting the marine wall, he took few steps back and glanced around. "Ahem, gentlemen... I assure you this is not what it looks like..." His lie was as hollow as his smile. Slyly he slipped a hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the many glass vials. Before he could grab any, however, the gun barrel poking at his back made him jump with a yelp. So much for improvising.
The sheepish man was quickly herded back together with his new... well, allies was bit of a strong word here, wasn’t it? Perhaps he should have been relieved that they misunderstood his plan to ditch them, but it was a little difficult to appreciate the sentiment with so many guns pointed his way. Upon hearing the boy’s promise, the doctor aimed a flat stare and a sharp comment at him. "...Please don’t." On the off-chance the flippant revolutionary actually had a plan, the crook frankly wanted no part in it. The Alabasta incident was still fresh in his mind and he was convinced anything the blonde maniac cooked up could only end in a disaster.
While the two oddballs kept flirting with danger, and each other, Richard focused on trying to weasel his way out of this one. Warily the venomous eyes darted between the approaching marines. Getting cuffed was less than ideal, but... Resisting was hardly an option anymore. Too many of them. Maybe he could take a diplomatic approach instead and strike a deal with them. Freedom in exchange for information, see? Yes, that sounded like a plan. Violence would only make things wors- His thought was cut short by the lady losing her temper. Right. The violent approach it was then.
Capitalizing on the distraction, the rat suddenly poked the closest marine in the eye. The underhanded maneuver was followed by a rising smack from the hefty suitcase, leaving the poor fellow reeling. Goodbye diplomacy. Seeing the raised rifles turning his way did wonders in hastening his motions. [Autoclave] A red flask was chucked towards the marines and suddenly a searing steam blast opened a hole on their ranks. After the bar incident back in San Faldo, he had made some alterations to the formula. Removing the long-burning components opened new possibilities. And escape routes. Like right now for instance. "Ladies first." The crook hurriedly insisted, underlining the offer with an arm pointed over the downed marines.
Much to the criminal’s dismay, however, the rest of the hounds weren’t sitting idle. He could see those trigger fingers trembling with temptation to ventilate his expensive suit. Each second stretched into an uncomfortable eternity. Cold sweat froze his legs in place. His hand fumbled for a saving miracle from his pocket, an injection to even the odds, but in the heat of the moment he couldn’t find the right one. Oh no. Nononono-BLAM!
The sheepish man was quickly herded back together with his new... well, allies was bit of a strong word here, wasn’t it? Perhaps he should have been relieved that they misunderstood his plan to ditch them, but it was a little difficult to appreciate the sentiment with so many guns pointed his way. Upon hearing the boy’s promise, the doctor aimed a flat stare and a sharp comment at him. "...Please don’t." On the off-chance the flippant revolutionary actually had a plan, the crook frankly wanted no part in it. The Alabasta incident was still fresh in his mind and he was convinced anything the blonde maniac cooked up could only end in a disaster.
While the two oddballs kept flirting with danger, and each other, Richard focused on trying to weasel his way out of this one. Warily the venomous eyes darted between the approaching marines. Getting cuffed was less than ideal, but... Resisting was hardly an option anymore. Too many of them. Maybe he could take a diplomatic approach instead and strike a deal with them. Freedom in exchange for information, see? Yes, that sounded like a plan. Violence would only make things wors- His thought was cut short by the lady losing her temper. Right. The violent approach it was then.
Capitalizing on the distraction, the rat suddenly poked the closest marine in the eye. The underhanded maneuver was followed by a rising smack from the hefty suitcase, leaving the poor fellow reeling. Goodbye diplomacy. Seeing the raised rifles turning his way did wonders in hastening his motions. [Autoclave] A red flask was chucked towards the marines and suddenly a searing steam blast opened a hole on their ranks. After the bar incident back in San Faldo, he had made some alterations to the formula. Removing the long-burning components opened new possibilities. And escape routes. Like right now for instance. "Ladies first." The crook hurriedly insisted, underlining the offer with an arm pointed over the downed marines.
Much to the criminal’s dismay, however, the rest of the hounds weren’t sitting idle. He could see those trigger fingers trembling with temptation to ventilate his expensive suit. Each second stretched into an uncomfortable eternity. Cold sweat froze his legs in place. His hand fumbled for a saving miracle from his pocket, an injection to even the odds, but in the heat of the moment he couldn’t find the right one. Oh no. Nononono-BLAM!
- Technique used:
- Autoclave (AoE)
Technique Level: Starting
Maximum Base Range: 10m
Maximum Base Radius: 2.5m
Technique Cooldown: 15 posts
Technique Description: Richard throws a red flask that upon impact explodes in a searing blast of steam and glass.
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
- GuestGuest
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Sun Dec 03, 2017 11:34 pm
Don't cause a scene~!
The female pirate was all but ready to swoon at her senior’s performance and she might actually have passed out from sheer deliria when he offered her to proceed first if it hadn’t been for the incredibly rude marine who had managed to come up from behind the two pirates and thought it proper to ruin the moment. A cold barrel pressed between her two shoulder blades quickly shook her from her fangirl moment.
Unfortunately for the marine, this pirate was currently jacked up on a whole lot of emotions and the moment she sensed danger, instead of freezing like most would, her reflexes took over lightning fast and she swept her leg up and behind her. In a crescent moon arch, her leg cut down the marine behind her so swiftly he had yet to even grasp the situation, let alone think of countering. The attack came down on him as heavy as an axe, leaving onlookers—marine and revolutionary alike—briefly speechless.
“Incredible,” gaped Ronx, completely taken aback from such an unexpectedly skilled martial arts move from the woman who had been close to fainting mere seconds ago. Unfortunately, things were never really quite over.
“Watch out!” she shouted, spinning around to both men. She flung her arms around their necks, dragging them to the ground and squeezing her eyes shut, as though to shield them with her small body. But it was too late. The sound of bullets firing rang through the station and the woman winced.
[Icio Pulse]
Reaching around the woman’s body, Ronx sent three waves of darts flying at the marines. The first wave disturbed the course of the bullets, setting off tiny explosions all around the three criminals, while the marines fell to the full force of the final two waves.
When the expected pain never came, the woman tentatively peeled open her eyes before gasping with surprise at the scene around her. Many of the marines who had felt the brunt of the darts had collapsed to the ground along with those who had fallen to the chemical attack from earlier, still having not recovered.
“Wha-” gasped the female pirate, staring around at the fallen ranks.
“Time to leave, don’t you think?” suggested Ronx with a childish giggle. He stood, dragging both pirates together with him before ushering them both past their now fallen enemies.
Unfortunately for the marine, this pirate was currently jacked up on a whole lot of emotions and the moment she sensed danger, instead of freezing like most would, her reflexes took over lightning fast and she swept her leg up and behind her. In a crescent moon arch, her leg cut down the marine behind her so swiftly he had yet to even grasp the situation, let alone think of countering. The attack came down on him as heavy as an axe, leaving onlookers—marine and revolutionary alike—briefly speechless.
“Incredible,” gaped Ronx, completely taken aback from such an unexpectedly skilled martial arts move from the woman who had been close to fainting mere seconds ago. Unfortunately, things were never really quite over.
“Watch out!” she shouted, spinning around to both men. She flung her arms around their necks, dragging them to the ground and squeezing her eyes shut, as though to shield them with her small body. But it was too late. The sound of bullets firing rang through the station and the woman winced.
[Icio Pulse]
Reaching around the woman’s body, Ronx sent three waves of darts flying at the marines. The first wave disturbed the course of the bullets, setting off tiny explosions all around the three criminals, while the marines fell to the full force of the final two waves.
When the expected pain never came, the woman tentatively peeled open her eyes before gasping with surprise at the scene around her. Many of the marines who had felt the brunt of the darts had collapsed to the ground along with those who had fallen to the chemical attack from earlier, still having not recovered.
“Wha-” gasped the female pirate, staring around at the fallen ranks.
“Time to leave, don’t you think?” suggested Ronx with a childish giggle. He stood, dragging both pirates together with him before ushering them both past their now fallen enemies.
- 1 TECHNIQUES USED | 0 PASSIVES USED | 0 ACTIVES USED:
- Icio Pulse:
- Technique Level: 20
Technique Range: 200m
Technique Cooldown: 5 posts
Technique Description: The user sends three waves of darts at the opponent. These waves hit the opponent in three 1 second intervals, creating a pulsing effect on the opponent.
- TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:
Icio Pulse | 5 posts left
cait at btn
- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Thu Dec 07, 2017 11:14 pm
Paralyzed by panic, the cowardly crook could only stand and stare stupefied at the martial arts display. Sadly, they were a little outnumbered here. His mind was screaming at him to move, but his body simply refused to cooperate. As the gunshots rang out, he couldn’t stand to watch. Even if he survived the barrage, the marines would capture him. This was it. The end of the line. He could feel his body collapsing to the floor already, dragged down by a sudden force. Adrenaline was no doubt blocking the pain, but soon the telltale sensation of dripping warmth would leak through his torso as life bled out of him.
...Except such sensation never arrived. Huh.
The venomous eyes blinked open, gleaming with several questions. Frantically the doctor patted his torso all over. Much to his surprise -and immense relief- he failed to find a single hole. Ah, the first fortunate thing today. This suit was expensive, you know. ...And of course he was happy to be alive as well, but a businessman had to have his priorities in order, no? There was no point in living without luxury. Not to mention patching up gunshot wounds was a hassle and a half. Had to dig out the bullets, clean the wounds, gauze and bandage the whole deal... Overall a painful and messy process, alright? Right.
Richard scampered back onto his feet with some assistance. The revolutionary’s suggestion was met with a hasty nod. Didn’t need to tell him twice. He was already half a step over the bodies in fact. "Agreed. This place is bad for my health, see?" Quick steps let him slink past the civilians, to politely snake his way through the mass. This time he kept close to the lady though. He preferred to keep his meat shields within arm’s reach, you know. Fortunately the spreading chaos made it easier to blend in with the scared crowd. The pompous people were much too worried about getting shot to pay attention.
Suddenly the rat ducked behind a bench and tried to drag his... companions... with him. He motioned towards all the people trying to flee, only to be stopped by a surly line of marines. All were forced to prove their identity before being allowed to trickle through. A hushed whisper slithered between the sharp teeth. "The exit’s blocked... We need a way out, pronto..." Naturally, he already had an idea or two on the burner. "I propose we create a diversion and slip out before they can regroup..." Indirect approach was the best approach as far as he was concerned. Fighting rarely solved anything.
However, getting the unlikely allies to follow the approach was a whole different matter. Since they were in this together, for better or worse, perhaps it was worthwhile to get their input. The rat glanced at the blonde. ...On a second thought, not even going to ask. And thus the green gaze settled on the lady. "Unless you have a better idea, Miss...?" He trailed off after realizing he never caught a name. Didn’t really come up back there.
...Except such sensation never arrived. Huh.
The venomous eyes blinked open, gleaming with several questions. Frantically the doctor patted his torso all over. Much to his surprise -and immense relief- he failed to find a single hole. Ah, the first fortunate thing today. This suit was expensive, you know. ...And of course he was happy to be alive as well, but a businessman had to have his priorities in order, no? There was no point in living without luxury. Not to mention patching up gunshot wounds was a hassle and a half. Had to dig out the bullets, clean the wounds, gauze and bandage the whole deal... Overall a painful and messy process, alright? Right.
Richard scampered back onto his feet with some assistance. The revolutionary’s suggestion was met with a hasty nod. Didn’t need to tell him twice. He was already half a step over the bodies in fact. "Agreed. This place is bad for my health, see?" Quick steps let him slink past the civilians, to politely snake his way through the mass. This time he kept close to the lady though. He preferred to keep his meat shields within arm’s reach, you know. Fortunately the spreading chaos made it easier to blend in with the scared crowd. The pompous people were much too worried about getting shot to pay attention.
Suddenly the rat ducked behind a bench and tried to drag his... companions... with him. He motioned towards all the people trying to flee, only to be stopped by a surly line of marines. All were forced to prove their identity before being allowed to trickle through. A hushed whisper slithered between the sharp teeth. "The exit’s blocked... We need a way out, pronto..." Naturally, he already had an idea or two on the burner. "I propose we create a diversion and slip out before they can regroup..." Indirect approach was the best approach as far as he was concerned. Fighting rarely solved anything.
However, getting the unlikely allies to follow the approach was a whole different matter. Since they were in this together, for better or worse, perhaps it was worthwhile to get their input. The rat glanced at the blonde. ...On a second thought, not even going to ask. And thus the green gaze settled on the lady. "Unless you have a better idea, Miss...?" He trailed off after realizing he never caught a name. Didn’t really come up back there.
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
- GuestGuest
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Thu Dec 14, 2017 2:21 am
Don't cause a scene~!
Ronx squeezed through the crowd, taking the rear after the two pirates. It wasn’t difficult maneuvering through the mass of moving bodies, partially because most were eager to make their own escape out of the station and partially because the two in front of him carved brief paths for him to simply follow. Before long, the exit neared and Ronx perked excitedly, only to be jerked back and behind a bench. Yelping with surprise, he fell gracelessly to the ground next to the female pirate who had managed to catch on quicker. At least one of them had their wits. Despite her earlier fanaticism, she appeared to have cooled her head significantly, especially since she had been able to witness both her idols in action and was perhaps finally coming to terms that this was not a dream.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ronx, flailing for a moment before finding his bearings and struggling to a more dignified seating position. He shuffled closer to the bench and peeked cautiously over the edge before hastily ducking back down with wide eyes. “Oh.”
As the thin pirate proposed his plan, the female pirate nodded with determination. “No, your idea is all that I would expect from your ingenious, Mr. Maxwell,” she said earnestly, the light in her emerald eyes almost blindingly bright with admiration. It took her several moments to realise she had yet to introduce herself despite all that had been said and done. “Oh, how rude of me! I’m Clarice and can I just say that I am a major fan of both you and Mr. Ronx?” the speed of her words rapidly increased until they all but merged together. She then turned briefly to Ronx, beaming at both criminals expectantly. “I’ve been following the two of you since the second your bounty posters were released! I can’t believe I am actually meeting the Plague Rat and Flying Dart!”
“Fans?” repeated Ronx, with a small tilt to his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter! Nice to meet you, Clarince and I should still formally introduce myself. My name is Alice B. Ronx!”
He glanced over at the older man, in case he had his own plans to introduce himself. The introductions might have solidified what little evidence there had been that the three were—for all intents and purposes—accomplices, but the matter at hand was unfortunately still at large.
“Mr. Maxwell is right,” continued Clarice, taking up the plans again with a thoughtful rub to her chin. “But we still need to figure out what kind of diversion would serve us best...huh? Where did Mr. Ronx go?”
“Hey, that’s him!”
She poked her head from the side of the bench and her eyes immediately bulged. “When did he get over there?!” she gasped in shock.
The person in question, was beyond doubt the blonde revolutionary, who had somehow managed to find himself standing right before the line of marines blocking the exit. “Hi,” he chirped enthusiastically as the marines started advancing towards him.
[Estuans Cannon]
Ronx lifted his hands, gathering a horde of his tiny darts in the air, all spinning with such fervor that their exterior glowed with a reddish-orange hue. Before the marines could reach him, he flung the darts towards them, the collection of darts dispersing upon impact and searing a flaming hole into their masses. The attack left a circle of flickering flames around the blackened floor and the marines hurried to stamp it out before it could become a potential fire hazard.
“Run!” shouted Ronx and throwing his hands into the air with a whoop, before darting past the frantic marines.
The female pirated gaped as she watched the antics performed by the reckless revolutionary, but there was an undeniable spark still present in her eyes. His loud exclaim momentarily shook her from her revere and she quickly turned back to the thin man beside her.
“Quickly,” she urged him.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ronx, flailing for a moment before finding his bearings and struggling to a more dignified seating position. He shuffled closer to the bench and peeked cautiously over the edge before hastily ducking back down with wide eyes. “Oh.”
As the thin pirate proposed his plan, the female pirate nodded with determination. “No, your idea is all that I would expect from your ingenious, Mr. Maxwell,” she said earnestly, the light in her emerald eyes almost blindingly bright with admiration. It took her several moments to realise she had yet to introduce herself despite all that had been said and done. “Oh, how rude of me! I’m Clarice and can I just say that I am a major fan of both you and Mr. Ronx?” the speed of her words rapidly increased until they all but merged together. She then turned briefly to Ronx, beaming at both criminals expectantly. “I’ve been following the two of you since the second your bounty posters were released! I can’t believe I am actually meeting the Plague Rat and Flying Dart!”
“Fans?” repeated Ronx, with a small tilt to his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter! Nice to meet you, Clarince and I should still formally introduce myself. My name is Alice B. Ronx!”
He glanced over at the older man, in case he had his own plans to introduce himself. The introductions might have solidified what little evidence there had been that the three were—for all intents and purposes—accomplices, but the matter at hand was unfortunately still at large.
“Mr. Maxwell is right,” continued Clarice, taking up the plans again with a thoughtful rub to her chin. “But we still need to figure out what kind of diversion would serve us best...huh? Where did Mr. Ronx go?”
“Hey, that’s him!”
She poked her head from the side of the bench and her eyes immediately bulged. “When did he get over there?!” she gasped in shock.
The person in question, was beyond doubt the blonde revolutionary, who had somehow managed to find himself standing right before the line of marines blocking the exit. “Hi,” he chirped enthusiastically as the marines started advancing towards him.
[Estuans Cannon]
Ronx lifted his hands, gathering a horde of his tiny darts in the air, all spinning with such fervor that their exterior glowed with a reddish-orange hue. Before the marines could reach him, he flung the darts towards them, the collection of darts dispersing upon impact and searing a flaming hole into their masses. The attack left a circle of flickering flames around the blackened floor and the marines hurried to stamp it out before it could become a potential fire hazard.
“Run!” shouted Ronx and throwing his hands into the air with a whoop, before darting past the frantic marines.
The female pirated gaped as she watched the antics performed by the reckless revolutionary, but there was an undeniable spark still present in her eyes. His loud exclaim momentarily shook her from her revere and she quickly turned back to the thin man beside her.
“Quickly,” she urged him.
- 1 TECHNIQUES USED | 0 PASSIVES USED | 0 ACTIVES USED:
- Estuans Cannon:
- Technique By: Tempestas Telorum
Technique Type: LT
Technique Range: 400m
Technique Cooldown: 5 posts
Technique Description: Utilising spinning force, the darts' outer exterior heat up to extraordinary temperatures. Individually, these darts are capable of dealing minor burns, however using the combined strength of 100 darts can deal the damage worthy of a cannon.
cait at btn
- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Mon Dec 18, 2017 8:13 pm
Though the doctor got an answer, it ended up raising even more questions. Some of them he wasn’t so sure he wanted answered. "...It’s a pleasure, Clarice, Ronx." A lie so natural was a reflex by now. The girl’s name didn’t ring a bell, which was something of a good sign at least. See, the rat had a bad habit of remembering dangerous and troublesome people over others. Especially debt collectors... Regardless, this lady seemed to know an awful lot about him. Always a worrying sign. She claimed to be a fan, a long time one, but who knows... Wouldn’t be the first time a bounty hunter tried to play coy.
Richard was about to voice his plan when the sudden query interrupted his thoughts. Quickly the venomous eyes scanned the scene, only stopping once they found an unfortunately familiar sight. "Oh no." Oh yes. That was indeed the blonde troublemaker over there, right in front of the marine blockade. Lovely. But... Maybe he could take advantage of this... Just run while the hounds were busy... Yes, why not? He could take the girl along too, just in case another bait was needed. Already a slew of excuses were bubbling in the bottles of his mind, ready to be distilled into comforting words, deception for the young lady. Ah, it was regrettable that the bright revolutionary got himself caught, but they could not let his brave sacri...f...ice...?
The rat’s jaw dropped and eyes bulged as the marines got blasted down. What the...? How the...? The voice snapped him out of his shock. Right, running. Well, didn’t have to tell him twice. [Evacuate] Richard grabbed onto his hat and sprung out of hiding with the agility of a man half his age. A trail of dust formed in his wake while he zoomed past the panicking marines. The flowing stream of people gasped, huffed and harrumphed as the brown blur apologetically elbowed his way through them. And not a single glance was cast behind to see if the fellow pirate managed to escape as well...
It wasn’t until the doctor got to a safe distance and behind a conveniently shady street corner that he dared to stop. Harsh breaths scratched his raspy throat. Really should’ve stopped smoking... About 20 years ago... The stray thought didn’t stop him from reaching into his pocket for the pack though. In his defense, he needed something to soothe his frayed nerves. Few sparks flickered into a flame and soon puffs of smoke danced in the air. Slowly the nervous tremors left his hands and his hammering heart calmed down. He sighed and idly wiped the cold droplets from his brow. Even broke a sweat back there... Though most of it was probably from fear.
Caaarefully the crook peeked out from the shadows. Tall, white buildings lined the street on both sides, housing cozy shops and cafes. Carefree people strutted along the cobblestone, cheerily chattering among themselves. The commotion at the station hadn’t quite reached this far, though some were shooting curious glanced towards the distant shouts. Didn’t sound like any marines were headed this way. Good. Gave him some much needed time to consider his choices...
Richard was about to voice his plan when the sudden query interrupted his thoughts. Quickly the venomous eyes scanned the scene, only stopping once they found an unfortunately familiar sight. "Oh no." Oh yes. That was indeed the blonde troublemaker over there, right in front of the marine blockade. Lovely. But... Maybe he could take advantage of this... Just run while the hounds were busy... Yes, why not? He could take the girl along too, just in case another bait was needed. Already a slew of excuses were bubbling in the bottles of his mind, ready to be distilled into comforting words, deception for the young lady. Ah, it was regrettable that the bright revolutionary got himself caught, but they could not let his brave sacri...f...ice...?
The rat’s jaw dropped and eyes bulged as the marines got blasted down. What the...? How the...? The voice snapped him out of his shock. Right, running. Well, didn’t have to tell him twice. [Evacuate] Richard grabbed onto his hat and sprung out of hiding with the agility of a man half his age. A trail of dust formed in his wake while he zoomed past the panicking marines. The flowing stream of people gasped, huffed and harrumphed as the brown blur apologetically elbowed his way through them. And not a single glance was cast behind to see if the fellow pirate managed to escape as well...
It wasn’t until the doctor got to a safe distance and behind a conveniently shady street corner that he dared to stop. Harsh breaths scratched his raspy throat. Really should’ve stopped smoking... About 20 years ago... The stray thought didn’t stop him from reaching into his pocket for the pack though. In his defense, he needed something to soothe his frayed nerves. Few sparks flickered into a flame and soon puffs of smoke danced in the air. Slowly the nervous tremors left his hands and his hammering heart calmed down. He sighed and idly wiped the cold droplets from his brow. Even broke a sweat back there... Though most of it was probably from fear.
Caaarefully the crook peeked out from the shadows. Tall, white buildings lined the street on both sides, housing cozy shops and cafes. Carefree people strutted along the cobblestone, cheerily chattering among themselves. The commotion at the station hadn’t quite reached this far, though some were shooting curious glanced towards the distant shouts. Didn’t sound like any marines were headed this way. Good. Gave him some much needed time to consider his choices...
- Technique used:
- Evacuate
Technique Level: 20
Maximum Base Range: 100m
Cooldown: 2 posts
Buffs: +20% RX
Debuffs: -20% ATK
Technique Description: Quite simply Richard grabs onto his hat and flees for dear life, leaving only a trail of dust in his wake. While not quite on the level many other high-speed movement techniques, this fear-filled special sprint is still undoubtedly superhuman. The distance is cleared in just a couple of seconds. While fleeing, he briefly sacrifices -20% Attack in favor of gaining +20% Reflex.
- Stat changes:
- Hitpoints (HP) : 150
Attack (ATK) : 240 - 48 = 192
Defense (DEF) : 450
Reflex (RX) : 560 + 112 = 672
Willpower (WP) : 100
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
- GuestGuest
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Tue Dec 26, 2017 12:45 am
Don't cause a scene~!
After having done what he could to secure the escape of his companions, Ronx spun in a full circle, having realised a few moments too late that he hadn’t quite managed to do the same for himself. To make matters worse, the tiny embers that had resulted from his thoughtless attack earlier had somehow grown disproportionately. Perhaps they had managed to find something to feed off of, but what was the biggest worry now was the billowing smoke rising and pressing against the ceiling as though in desperate search for the exit. Exclaims and panicked cries from patrons, marines and Ronx alike were filling station. The blonde revolutionary, who was the sole cause of the panic, was arguably making the biggest racket of himself.
“Mummy, mummy!”
He froze, his ears catching the petrified cry throughout the pandemonium. He swept his amber eyes through the crowd, the marines buried and lost among them, currently the very least of his problems. A tiny tuft of black curls appeared briefly through the stampede, pressed frightfully against the wall with a line of flames flickering close by. The child was stiff with fear, his cheeks glistening with a layer of tears, the only thing he could think to do was wail for help.
Without hesitation, Ronx began pushing through the crowd, dodging tendrils of hungry flames as he did so. He reached the boy, threw him wordlessly over his shoulder and began searching around for a way out. The boy only wailed louder, failing to comprehend his situation. Ronx had adopted a new expression on his face, one slightly more akin to the one depicted on his bounty poster, and he suddenly leapt upwards, grasping one of the wooden beams from the ceiling and swung himself onto his. He quickly threw his mantle over the boy’s wet face as they entered the area flooded with black smoke. Ronx covered his mouth with his gloved hand and charged blindingly through the smog. He reached the end of the beam, his eyes burning and he glanced down. Spotting a few marines, he leapt, landing directly on their back and springing quickly off in the direction of the entrance. He broke through to awaiting fresh air and fell to the floor gasping and coughing. He drew his mantle off the boy, whose eyes were wide with confusion but his tears had at least come to a stop.
“Jack!” a voice cried out from the crowd and within seconds, a thin woman with black curls flung herself at the boy. She turned to the revolutionary and appeared ready to express her thanks, when a line of marines wielding rifles surrounded them.
“Ma’am, step away from the criminal!” one commanded sternly, his eyes trained on Ronx.
The woman’s eyes widened and sprang away from him as though she had been electrocuted. She dragged the child away from him, making a hasty retreat. The boy stared at the blonde even as he was pulled forcefully away. “Thank you, mister,” he said hesitantly.
Ronx smiled and waved the boy away.
“Flying Dart, stand down!” the marine shouted again. Ronx frowned, glanced down at the ground where he sat. Stand down? “And hands up!”
He pursed his lips and sighed before complying, much to the marines’ evident surprise. They hesitated for a moment, before the one who commanded them nodded to an officer who lowered his rifle and cautiously approached the revolutionary with metal cuffs. He grabbed Ronx’s wrists and twisted them behind his back before swiftly locking them together, his fingers trembling so much that he failed several times before finally succeeding.
“You’ll get used to it,” said Ronx cheerfully and sympathetically.
“Silence, felon!” he snapped nervously.
“That was uncalled for,” replied Ronx, visibly hurt.
He stepped back and raised his rifle once more, withdrawing back to the line without turning his back to the blonde. Their trepidation was almost amusing.
“There are still two others,” called the commander, lowering his rifle. “Spread out!”
The men saluted before dispersing, leaving only half a dozen marines to guard the prisoner. Ronx glanced behind him at the station, where the flames were being contained by hoses firing jets of water. Another group of marines were holding back the anxious crowd; it was almost as though the entire marine base was here.
“Hey, I heard there was a market here last week,” quipped Ronx, turning back to the marines guarding him. “I was very disappointed to have missed it. How was it?”
No reply came and he simmered down dejectedly. This is boring, he thought, continuing to silently play around with his locked cuffs, poking and wriggling around with two long and sharp darts.
“Mummy, mummy!”
He froze, his ears catching the petrified cry throughout the pandemonium. He swept his amber eyes through the crowd, the marines buried and lost among them, currently the very least of his problems. A tiny tuft of black curls appeared briefly through the stampede, pressed frightfully against the wall with a line of flames flickering close by. The child was stiff with fear, his cheeks glistening with a layer of tears, the only thing he could think to do was wail for help.
Without hesitation, Ronx began pushing through the crowd, dodging tendrils of hungry flames as he did so. He reached the boy, threw him wordlessly over his shoulder and began searching around for a way out. The boy only wailed louder, failing to comprehend his situation. Ronx had adopted a new expression on his face, one slightly more akin to the one depicted on his bounty poster, and he suddenly leapt upwards, grasping one of the wooden beams from the ceiling and swung himself onto his. He quickly threw his mantle over the boy’s wet face as they entered the area flooded with black smoke. Ronx covered his mouth with his gloved hand and charged blindingly through the smog. He reached the end of the beam, his eyes burning and he glanced down. Spotting a few marines, he leapt, landing directly on their back and springing quickly off in the direction of the entrance. He broke through to awaiting fresh air and fell to the floor gasping and coughing. He drew his mantle off the boy, whose eyes were wide with confusion but his tears had at least come to a stop.
“Jack!” a voice cried out from the crowd and within seconds, a thin woman with black curls flung herself at the boy. She turned to the revolutionary and appeared ready to express her thanks, when a line of marines wielding rifles surrounded them.
“Ma’am, step away from the criminal!” one commanded sternly, his eyes trained on Ronx.
The woman’s eyes widened and sprang away from him as though she had been electrocuted. She dragged the child away from him, making a hasty retreat. The boy stared at the blonde even as he was pulled forcefully away. “Thank you, mister,” he said hesitantly.
Ronx smiled and waved the boy away.
“Flying Dart, stand down!” the marine shouted again. Ronx frowned, glanced down at the ground where he sat. Stand down? “And hands up!”
He pursed his lips and sighed before complying, much to the marines’ evident surprise. They hesitated for a moment, before the one who commanded them nodded to an officer who lowered his rifle and cautiously approached the revolutionary with metal cuffs. He grabbed Ronx’s wrists and twisted them behind his back before swiftly locking them together, his fingers trembling so much that he failed several times before finally succeeding.
“You’ll get used to it,” said Ronx cheerfully and sympathetically.
“Silence, felon!” he snapped nervously.
“That was uncalled for,” replied Ronx, visibly hurt.
He stepped back and raised his rifle once more, withdrawing back to the line without turning his back to the blonde. Their trepidation was almost amusing.
“There are still two others,” called the commander, lowering his rifle. “Spread out!”
The men saluted before dispersing, leaving only half a dozen marines to guard the prisoner. Ronx glanced behind him at the station, where the flames were being contained by hoses firing jets of water. Another group of marines were holding back the anxious crowd; it was almost as though the entire marine base was here.
“Hey, I heard there was a market here last week,” quipped Ronx, turning back to the marines guarding him. “I was very disappointed to have missed it. How was it?”
No reply came and he simmered down dejectedly. This is boring, he thought, continuing to silently play around with his locked cuffs, poking and wriggling around with two long and sharp darts.
- STATS TRACKER:
Hitpoints (HP) : 260
Attack (ATK) : 290
Defense (DEF) : 300
Reflex (RX) : 345
Willpower (WP) : 320
- 0 TECHNIQUES USED | 1 PASSIVES USED:
- Kenbunshoku (Passive):
- Passive Bonus (Level 5): Ability to passively detect a presence within 200m.
- DAMAGE TRACKER:
- TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:
Estuans Cannon | 4 posts
- NPC TRACKER 0:
cait at btn
- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Fri Dec 29, 2017 9:21 pm
Slouching slightly against the cold brick wall, Richard savored the smoky breaths. Worries bubbled in his mind. There was no doubt the Marines would sweep the whole city in effort to catch him and his... acquaintances. That meant at least two hours more of spontaneous hide and seek while waiting for the next train to somewhere reasonable. So the best options was to... Unfortunately, the rhythmic running steps echoing from the streets marked the end of his breather. He flicked the remains of his toxic vice away and adjusted his tie more out of habit than necessity. Right, the break was over, back to business.
The crook ditched his hat and jacket, hastily stuffing them into the suitcase. Not the time to be folding them nicely. In return, he yanked out a long, white laboratory coat and slipped it on with routine swiftness. The imaginary bottles were already concocting a plan to get him out of this mess. An invisibility potion of sorts, one could say. Just needed some more components from nearby. No time to be picky, so the list went something like... 1. Thick, round glasses nicked from a conveniently unsuspecting tourist... 2. The end of a messy mop fished from the trashcan... 3. Top it all off with a hunched back from carrying a heavy suitcase... And presto! He was no longer Richard Maxwell, the notorious Plague Rat. Nay, now he was Professor... erm... Usopp, yes, a scientist from... uh... the distant Karakuri Island, of course.
After a deep breath to steel his nerves, the criminal inched out of hiding. Much to his chagrin, the street was already infested with seagulls. The uniformed kind. They were methodically going through the shops and interrogating witnesses. He barely managed to walk five feet when his disguise was already put to a test. Two stern marines blocked his path. "Sir, have you seen this man?" They held out a bounty poster of a rather familiar and sharp-dressed fellow.
Leaning close, veeery close, the disguised doctor scrutinized the bounty poster. Ah, good, they still hadn’t captured his whole face, though his favorite outfit was admittedly a giveaway already. Suddenly his features lit up as if a light bulb had flashed above his head. A single finger sprung up to underline the eureka moment. "Ach, I have zeen him, ja!" The same digit swung to point at the alleyway where he had been hiding just a moment ago. Every good lie held a seed of truth, see. "He vent zat vay in much hurry." He was convinced not even his ex-wife would’ve recognized his voice through the outrageous accent.
At least the hounds bought it, nodding and rushing off. "Thank you for your cooperation!" One of them dug out a tiny den den mushi and shared his findings with someone. "Sir, we have a lead on one of the remaining two..." Richard remained in place just for long enough to catch that bit. Wait, two? Did that mean...? A sharp smile flashed on the rat’s lips. Oh, he could’ve jumped for joy! See, if the hounds already had caught someone, they were more likely to abandon their pursuit sooner. No point in wasting resources when they already had someone to blame, prosecute and execute. Pleased with the idea, he continued shuffling back towards the station. He was in no rush, after all.
The crook ditched his hat and jacket, hastily stuffing them into the suitcase. Not the time to be folding them nicely. In return, he yanked out a long, white laboratory coat and slipped it on with routine swiftness. The imaginary bottles were already concocting a plan to get him out of this mess. An invisibility potion of sorts, one could say. Just needed some more components from nearby. No time to be picky, so the list went something like... 1. Thick, round glasses nicked from a conveniently unsuspecting tourist... 2. The end of a messy mop fished from the trashcan... 3. Top it all off with a hunched back from carrying a heavy suitcase... And presto! He was no longer Richard Maxwell, the notorious Plague Rat. Nay, now he was Professor... erm... Usopp, yes, a scientist from... uh... the distant Karakuri Island, of course.
After a deep breath to steel his nerves, the criminal inched out of hiding. Much to his chagrin, the street was already infested with seagulls. The uniformed kind. They were methodically going through the shops and interrogating witnesses. He barely managed to walk five feet when his disguise was already put to a test. Two stern marines blocked his path. "Sir, have you seen this man?" They held out a bounty poster of a rather familiar and sharp-dressed fellow.
Leaning close, veeery close, the disguised doctor scrutinized the bounty poster. Ah, good, they still hadn’t captured his whole face, though his favorite outfit was admittedly a giveaway already. Suddenly his features lit up as if a light bulb had flashed above his head. A single finger sprung up to underline the eureka moment. "Ach, I have zeen him, ja!" The same digit swung to point at the alleyway where he had been hiding just a moment ago. Every good lie held a seed of truth, see. "He vent zat vay in much hurry." He was convinced not even his ex-wife would’ve recognized his voice through the outrageous accent.
At least the hounds bought it, nodding and rushing off. "Thank you for your cooperation!" One of them dug out a tiny den den mushi and shared his findings with someone. "Sir, we have a lead on one of the remaining two..." Richard remained in place just for long enough to catch that bit. Wait, two? Did that mean...? A sharp smile flashed on the rat’s lips. Oh, he could’ve jumped for joy! See, if the hounds already had caught someone, they were more likely to abandon their pursuit sooner. No point in wasting resources when they already had someone to blame, prosecute and execute. Pleased with the idea, he continued shuffling back towards the station. He was in no rush, after all.
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
- GuestGuest
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Wed Jan 03, 2018 10:48 pm
Don't cause a scene~!
“Hmm…” mumbled Ronx, making no attempt to disguise his concentration. His face contorted at various times when the lock proved to be especially difficult. All the while, the marines only saw his antics as minor and irritating disturbances and he continued to fiddle around with his darts, finding little to no success.
“Ah!” he suddenly exclaimed with excitement when he managed to push aside a bolt inside the lock. “Oh…” but the bolt slipped and his face fell, downcast.
“Will you shut up?” one of the guards finally snapped, squaring the rifle across his chest threateningly. A tactic that unfortunately had little effect on those who didn’t quite understand their position.
“Apologies,” replied the detained man. He fell silent for a moment, much to the marines’ collective relief, but he soon spoke up again. Much to their collective chagrin. “I’m hungry.”
They chose to ignore him, keeping their backs stubbornly turned to him and he sighed.
“She went down there!”
A woman with brilliant emerald eyes dashed around the corner and swiftly leapt into a nearby window, disregarding the fact that it was closed. Glass smashed and she pushed her way blindingly through the room, before emerging out of another window, this one thankfully open. She heard a lady scream and a child cry, but she ignored them and glanced around her at the balcony she stood on. Beneath her, the marines were still on the chase, but had yet to notice their subject above their heads. Taking advantage of this, Clarice tossed back her brunette curls and glanced up. Scrambling onto the iron railings of the balcony, she balanced with cat-like sureness and reached up on the tip of her toes. She was a tall woman and she easily touched the ceiling, but even then her fingers only brushed the base of the railings on the above balcony.
She twisted so that half her body leant out of the balcony and she jumped, grabbing the railings firmly and pulled herself up with a grunt. Squatting on the balcony, she watched the marines continue their search, before realising several had pulled away down a different direction. Had they found the Plague Rat?
She shook her head vigorously, refusing to believe it. Not yet, they couldn’t be caught; she still had use for them…
Click. “Ah!”
“Shut up!!” came the exasperated cry from his guards.
“Sorry,” replied Ronx with an innocent smile as he carefully slid his wrists out of the loose cuffs.
“Ah!” he suddenly exclaimed with excitement when he managed to push aside a bolt inside the lock. “Oh…” but the bolt slipped and his face fell, downcast.
“Will you shut up?” one of the guards finally snapped, squaring the rifle across his chest threateningly. A tactic that unfortunately had little effect on those who didn’t quite understand their position.
“Apologies,” replied the detained man. He fell silent for a moment, much to the marines’ collective relief, but he soon spoke up again. Much to their collective chagrin. “I’m hungry.”
They chose to ignore him, keeping their backs stubbornly turned to him and he sighed.
***
“She went down there!”
A woman with brilliant emerald eyes dashed around the corner and swiftly leapt into a nearby window, disregarding the fact that it was closed. Glass smashed and she pushed her way blindingly through the room, before emerging out of another window, this one thankfully open. She heard a lady scream and a child cry, but she ignored them and glanced around her at the balcony she stood on. Beneath her, the marines were still on the chase, but had yet to notice their subject above their heads. Taking advantage of this, Clarice tossed back her brunette curls and glanced up. Scrambling onto the iron railings of the balcony, she balanced with cat-like sureness and reached up on the tip of her toes. She was a tall woman and she easily touched the ceiling, but even then her fingers only brushed the base of the railings on the above balcony.
She twisted so that half her body leant out of the balcony and she jumped, grabbing the railings firmly and pulled herself up with a grunt. Squatting on the balcony, she watched the marines continue their search, before realising several had pulled away down a different direction. Had they found the Plague Rat?
She shook her head vigorously, refusing to believe it. Not yet, they couldn’t be caught; she still had use for them…
***
Click. “Ah!”
“Shut up!!” came the exasperated cry from his guards.
“Sorry,” replied Ronx with an innocent smile as he carefully slid his wrists out of the loose cuffs.
- STATS TRACKER:
Hitpoints (HP) : 260
Attack (ATK) : 290
Defense (DEF) : 300
Reflex (RX) : 345
Willpower (WP) : 320
- 0 TECHNIQUES USED | 1 PASSIVES USED:
- Kenbunshoku (Passive):
- Passive Bonus (Level 5): Ability to passively detect a presence within 200m.
- DAMAGE TRACKER:
- TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:
- NPC TRACKER 0:
cait at btn
- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Sun Jan 07, 2018 10:12 am
Back hunched and head held low, the Plague Rat crept crept down the long street. With the sudden evacuation of the station, a veritable flood of disgruntled passengers washed over the area. The uniformed hounds stayed afloat thanks to stern authority. Richard, meanwhile, wasn’t as fortunate. His good mood was admittedly dampened as he was beginning to feel like a sardine in a can. The venomous gaze swept the passing people, imaginary whiskers twitching nervously in search of a way out. His usual plan was to find a nice, quiet alley and slip away through the less scenic routes, but he kept getting cut off by idle and ignorant tourists. They just loved to stop and unfurl their map or pose for photos in the most inconvenient places.
The black streaks of smoke rising from behind the buildings in the distance further taunted the frustrated crook. Geh, from bad to worse, eh? More than few voices around him mumbled and complained about the fire at the station and how their holiday was now ruined. He would’ve gladly traded worries with them. What a lousy coincidence to crown the troublesome day. If it was a coincidence… Right after he had been identified and nearly captured, his safest way off the island was mysteriously blocked… What were the odds of that being just an accident, hm? Exactly. He shuddered to imagine what sort of devious, cunning, manipulative mastermind would set an entire train station ablaze...
Somewhere a window shattered, soon followed by a scream. The career criminal had to snuff out the urge to duck for cover. Old habits tended to die hard after all. Instead, he spared a curious glance around like a mere bystander, a look that asked if anyone else heard that. ...Huh, seemed not. Still, paranoia nagged at the back of his mind. He, like most people, didn’t even think to glance upwards. Then again, maybe it was better he didn’t. With all these marines rushing around, the last thing he needed right now was another distraction. Ignorance was bliss, see.
Naturally, in such a crowd bumping into people was unavoidable. Richard’s streak of poor luck continued as someone elbowed him in the back. One arm flailing and the suitcase weighing him down, he nearly toppled over. Fortunately there was someone to crash into, made the fall less painful. As the daze wore off, he scrambled to pick up the pieces of his disguise before anyone noticed. Much to his creeping horror, a curious child already asked their mother, rather loudly in fact, why that strange man was wearing a mop on their head. Thinking quick, he spun around. "Rude little girl! Thiz iz not a mop, but the latezt model of my revolutionary zelf-cleaning toupée!" While the puzzled kid and her embarrassed mother hesitated, the liar snatched his suitcase and promptly turned his back to them.
"Harrumph, I zay. Zatz right, harrumph!"
The black streaks of smoke rising from behind the buildings in the distance further taunted the frustrated crook. Geh, from bad to worse, eh? More than few voices around him mumbled and complained about the fire at the station and how their holiday was now ruined. He would’ve gladly traded worries with them. What a lousy coincidence to crown the troublesome day. If it was a coincidence… Right after he had been identified and nearly captured, his safest way off the island was mysteriously blocked… What were the odds of that being just an accident, hm? Exactly. He shuddered to imagine what sort of devious, cunning, manipulative mastermind would set an entire train station ablaze...
Somewhere a window shattered, soon followed by a scream. The career criminal had to snuff out the urge to duck for cover. Old habits tended to die hard after all. Instead, he spared a curious glance around like a mere bystander, a look that asked if anyone else heard that. ...Huh, seemed not. Still, paranoia nagged at the back of his mind. He, like most people, didn’t even think to glance upwards. Then again, maybe it was better he didn’t. With all these marines rushing around, the last thing he needed right now was another distraction. Ignorance was bliss, see.
Naturally, in such a crowd bumping into people was unavoidable. Richard’s streak of poor luck continued as someone elbowed him in the back. One arm flailing and the suitcase weighing him down, he nearly toppled over. Fortunately there was someone to crash into, made the fall less painful. As the daze wore off, he scrambled to pick up the pieces of his disguise before anyone noticed. Much to his creeping horror, a curious child already asked their mother, rather loudly in fact, why that strange man was wearing a mop on their head. Thinking quick, he spun around. "Rude little girl! Thiz iz not a mop, but the latezt model of my revolutionary zelf-cleaning toupée!" While the puzzled kid and her embarrassed mother hesitated, the liar snatched his suitcase and promptly turned his back to them.
"Harrumph, I zay. Zatz right, harrumph!"
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
- GuestGuest
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Wed Jan 17, 2018 11:52 pm
Don't cause a scene~!
Emerald eyes flashed, sweeping over the crowd below. Clarice, still perched like a watchful gargoyle on the balcony railing, studied the bulging mass of pedestrians. Despite its best efforts to move, the pandemonium caused by the marines, criminals and the most recent fire gave little relief for the tourists whose only wish was to enjoy a relaxing holiday. The pirate smiled wryly and continued her search. After a moment, she was ready to give up and relent to the idea that her “idols” had been captured, when her ears picked up the admonishment from a heavily accented voice. Her eyes immediately found the owner of the voice: a thin, hunchback with thick glasses. She frowned for a moment, before turning away and continuing her search. Then, she froze, gasped with realisation and quickly turned back. Darn it, he’d already disappeared!
“Stupid, stupid,” muttered Clarice under her breath, reprimanding herself for her own oversight. “And you call yourself his number one fan?”
She stood up and glanced around. It would be impossible to catch up with the Plague Rat if she joined the crowd. Instead, she twisted around nimbly on her narrow platform and began climbing the balconies again until she reached the roof. She peered into the crowd from her new vantage point, trying to find the rat again, but to little avail. Clicking her tongue in frustration, she leapt over to the next building and searched again, until she finally caught sight of the tell-tale mop head and a grin spread across her cheek. “Found you~”
So the restraints were now off and with disappointingly little resistance too. Ronx sat in perplexed silence, ruminating the lack of challenge the cuffs had offered. The marines guarding him were silent too, enjoying the peace the revolutionary finally offered. Behind them, black smoke wafted high into the sky and the fire was still being contained. Ronx was amazed at how the tiny embers from his darts had somehow managed to spark such a massive blaze. He shuffled into a more comfortable position and glanced around thoughtfully.
The revolutionary had half a mind to simply get up and leave the establishment in favour of searching for the two individuals who had kept him so entertained earlier. The marines made sour companions with their rigid stances and their tendency to answer questions with twitchy triggers. Yes, the pirates were always a lot more fun than law enforcers. Cautiously, Ronx began shuffling sideways on the ground. A marine glanced back at him and he froze, his face tightened into a suspiciously innocent expression. He averted his eyes hastily and whistled a chirpy tune. Nothing to see or worry about here.
The marine narrowed his eyes at the blonde, but after several moments turned back. Ronx breathed out a sigh of relief and began his shuffle again. Once he was close enough to the line of bushes to his left, he made a quick leap and ducked under them. There, he hastily pulled himself up and made a run for it. Unfortunately, he didn’t get very far before the marines had noticed his abrupt disappearance.
“Where did he go?!”
His heart leapt from his throat and Ronx scrambled to get as far away as possible. In his blind flight, he hit the wall of unsuspecting tourists who had just decided to stop in the middle of the path to consult a map.
“There he is! Get him!”
Ronx stifled a scream and danced around the tourists, attempting to make a mad dash down the street. Little did he expect human traffic consisting of mainly tourists, but his pursuers fell to the same obstacles he faced too. Taking advantage of the crowd, he focused on slipping between the individual bodies instead of barging through like the brutish marines did. Soon, he twisted around a corner and managed to briefly lose sight of his pursuers. He took refuge behind several empty barrels, taking a moment to catch his breath and quiet his erratically beating heart.
“Stupid, stupid,” muttered Clarice under her breath, reprimanding herself for her own oversight. “And you call yourself his number one fan?”
She stood up and glanced around. It would be impossible to catch up with the Plague Rat if she joined the crowd. Instead, she twisted around nimbly on her narrow platform and began climbing the balconies again until she reached the roof. She peered into the crowd from her new vantage point, trying to find the rat again, but to little avail. Clicking her tongue in frustration, she leapt over to the next building and searched again, until she finally caught sight of the tell-tale mop head and a grin spread across her cheek. “Found you~”
***
So the restraints were now off and with disappointingly little resistance too. Ronx sat in perplexed silence, ruminating the lack of challenge the cuffs had offered. The marines guarding him were silent too, enjoying the peace the revolutionary finally offered. Behind them, black smoke wafted high into the sky and the fire was still being contained. Ronx was amazed at how the tiny embers from his darts had somehow managed to spark such a massive blaze. He shuffled into a more comfortable position and glanced around thoughtfully.
The revolutionary had half a mind to simply get up and leave the establishment in favour of searching for the two individuals who had kept him so entertained earlier. The marines made sour companions with their rigid stances and their tendency to answer questions with twitchy triggers. Yes, the pirates were always a lot more fun than law enforcers. Cautiously, Ronx began shuffling sideways on the ground. A marine glanced back at him and he froze, his face tightened into a suspiciously innocent expression. He averted his eyes hastily and whistled a chirpy tune. Nothing to see or worry about here.
The marine narrowed his eyes at the blonde, but after several moments turned back. Ronx breathed out a sigh of relief and began his shuffle again. Once he was close enough to the line of bushes to his left, he made a quick leap and ducked under them. There, he hastily pulled himself up and made a run for it. Unfortunately, he didn’t get very far before the marines had noticed his abrupt disappearance.
“Where did he go?!”
His heart leapt from his throat and Ronx scrambled to get as far away as possible. In his blind flight, he hit the wall of unsuspecting tourists who had just decided to stop in the middle of the path to consult a map.
“There he is! Get him!”
Ronx stifled a scream and danced around the tourists, attempting to make a mad dash down the street. Little did he expect human traffic consisting of mainly tourists, but his pursuers fell to the same obstacles he faced too. Taking advantage of the crowd, he focused on slipping between the individual bodies instead of barging through like the brutish marines did. Soon, he twisted around a corner and managed to briefly lose sight of his pursuers. He took refuge behind several empty barrels, taking a moment to catch his breath and quiet his erratically beating heart.
- OOC note:
- I'll be completely honest: I'm not entirely sure where to go, plot-wise XD If you have an idea, do let me know and I can steer Ronx in the right direction. Otherwise, I do have half a mind to make Clarice the bad guy and have her pick fights with the both of us. Let me know what you think.
- STATS TRACKER:
Hitpoints (HP) : 260
Attack (ATK) : 290
Defense (DEF) : 300
Reflex (RX) : 345
Willpower (WP) : 320
- 0 TECHNIQUES USED | 1 PASSIVES USED | 0 ACTIVES USED:
- Kenbunshoku (Passive):
- Passive Bonus (Level 5): Ability to passively detect a presence within 200m.
- DAMAGE TRACKER:
- TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:
- NPC TRACKER 0:
cait at btn
- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Tue Jan 23, 2018 7:39 pm
Safe to say that what the eagle-eyed fan picked up, someone else might notice too... The disguised criminal was almost out when someone grabbed him by the shoulder. He spun around to meet the rude person, shocked to find a familiar, decorated marine glaring at him. "Ach, I do not have time for ziz nonzen-!" The aggravated act was cut short when the officer unceremoniously snatched his 'toupée' away. His ill-fitting glasses tilted to the side, revealing a sheepish look. He took a step back, only to find himself bumping into another marine. One glance around was enough to confirm his fears. Surrounded on all sides. "...Erm, gentlemen." His nervous fingers reached up to adjust the tie that suddenly felt just a tad tight.
Before Richard could think of a plausible excuse, the highest ranking officer present already filled his lungs and pointed a dramatic finger. The command to GET HIM had barely been bellowed when the eager marines jumped into action. One could practically see the lust for justice (and promotion) gleaming in their eyes. What started as a quick tackle quickly evolved into a full-blown dogpile maneuver. With a rapid series of thuds and shouts the chaos grew. Dust and curses flew left and right. Someone announced they got the perp by the arm and another declared they got his leg. Everyone wanted their share of the fame in arresting the notorious Plague Rat.
Meanwhile, the ruffled rat barely managed crawl out of the pile. His disguise was gone, abandoned while escaping the clutches of law. His not so brave escape took him past the gawking people’s legs and towards a nice, shady spot. Finally he found refuge behind several empty barrels, the perfect spot to gather his thoughts. Caaarefully he peeked out to watch fury unfold. As soon as there was an opening, he would make a break for it. Though while he scanned for possibilities, he could’ve sworn something moved in the corner of his vision. Hm? What were the odds that someone else was hiding here? For the moment, he only managed a quizzical glance.
"...Oh, hello there."
Unfortunately the uniformed hounds soon noticed something was off. Perhaps the perp wasn’t putting up a fight or screaming like expected. Whatever the reason, they caught on far quicker than a certain crook would’ve liked. As the officer demanded order, the dust was finally allowed to settle. It now became apparent the over-eager group was clinging onto a lonely lab coat and each other’s limbs. Needless to say, they weren’t happy about losingtheir shot at promotion missing out on fame a dangerous criminal in a crowd of civilians. The search would continue immediately! Starting with a sweep of the immediate area! After all, the perp couldn’t have gotten far...
Before Richard could think of a plausible excuse, the highest ranking officer present already filled his lungs and pointed a dramatic finger. The command to GET HIM had barely been bellowed when the eager marines jumped into action. One could practically see the lust for justice (and promotion) gleaming in their eyes. What started as a quick tackle quickly evolved into a full-blown dogpile maneuver. With a rapid series of thuds and shouts the chaos grew. Dust and curses flew left and right. Someone announced they got the perp by the arm and another declared they got his leg. Everyone wanted their share of the fame in arresting the notorious Plague Rat.
Meanwhile, the ruffled rat barely managed crawl out of the pile. His disguise was gone, abandoned while escaping the clutches of law. His not so brave escape took him past the gawking people’s legs and towards a nice, shady spot. Finally he found refuge behind several empty barrels, the perfect spot to gather his thoughts. Caaarefully he peeked out to watch fury unfold. As soon as there was an opening, he would make a break for it. Though while he scanned for possibilities, he could’ve sworn something moved in the corner of his vision. Hm? What were the odds that someone else was hiding here? For the moment, he only managed a quizzical glance.
"...Oh, hello there."
Unfortunately the uniformed hounds soon noticed something was off. Perhaps the perp wasn’t putting up a fight or screaming like expected. Whatever the reason, they caught on far quicker than a certain crook would’ve liked. As the officer demanded order, the dust was finally allowed to settle. It now became apparent the over-eager group was clinging onto a lonely lab coat and each other’s limbs. Needless to say, they weren’t happy about losing
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
- GuestGuest
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Sun Jan 28, 2018 11:10 pm
Don't cause a scene~!
His pounding heart had only just slowed back to normal when something—or someone—moved beside him. His heart skipped a beat, but when he met the familiar eyes of the man he had been quick to label his ally, he visibly relaxed.
“It’s you!”
But the heartwarming reunion would have to wait. Already, the marines the two were taking refuge from had finished reorganising themselves from their previous blunder and were beginning to close in. The time for their capture—or recapture for one of them—was imminent. Having already been cuffed once today, the revolutionary was in no immediate hurry to get back into them. It was then did he have another one of his notoriously ingenious plans, the ones that made his crew shudder at the mere thought of them. He peeked out from the top of the barrel, in a way only he considered to be cautious before ducking back down and grabbing his companion by the shoulders, squaring him up to that they were face-to-face. He wore an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.
“I have a plan,” he said solemnly, his amber eyes glimmering with absolute seriousness (surely repeating how “serious” he is makes it believable, right?). “But you’ll have to trust me, alright?”
Without even waiting for a reply, the young man transferred his grip to his companion’s elbow, if he would allow it. With or without the older man, Ronx then leapt out of hiding...and landed right in the middle of the searching hounds. It took several moments for him to be noticed, mostly because his presence in their midst was too outrageous to believe.
“Oh, hello,” he said cheerfully, before flinging his hands upwards.
[Noctis Spica]
The marines were rattled and had yet to fully comprehend the revolutionary’s surprise appearance—some even rubbed their eyes in disbelief. Their weapons lifted at the ready too slow but then a black shadow suddenly loomed over their heads. A sense of foreboding and dread rippled through the mass of marines. Fortunately, the citizens and tourists had been pushed to the edges from the marines’ shoving and searching. Fortunate...or calculated? Heads turned upwards, briefly forgetting the criminals. And that was all he needed. If the pirate had allowed himself to be dragged by the revolutionary, Ronx would have then made for the tiny opening left by the distracted marines with or without his companion in tow, otherwise beckoning him to follow. As they left the vicinity, the black cloud looming overhead suddenly dispersed into a hailstorm of stinging darts and they left the screaming marines in their wake.
“I’d say that went well,” chirped Ronx, without glancing back to check on the physical or mental wellbeing of his ally. “Oh! This looks promising!”
He had spotted a beautiful canal with sparkling water and gentle waves. Only seconds had passed before he unexpectedly shoved the pirate—if he had followed—into the water. Whether or not the older man would be taken by surprise or recover himself before he could tumble into the canal, Ronx would spring into the air and curl into a cannonball. He hung suspended in the air for a moment before rocketing straight down and making an impressive splash with a loud whoop. Behind them, the marines were catching up again. But by then, the water had already swept the reckless revolutionary out of sight.
Clarice burst out laughing, watching as the water carried her revolutionary idol—and possibly her pirate idol too—away, before realising they had also escaped her. Cursing, she let her delight settle, before another explosive bout of laughter took over her body again.
“Oh no, I have to find them again,” she snickered, clutching her stomach as she tried to contain herself. “Pfft!”
This went on for some time, but eventually, the red-haired lady was able enough to be on her way again. She wasn’t in any particular hurry. After all, she knew the canals well enough—at least better than the marines—and could surmise where the idol/s would stop.
“It’s you!”
But the heartwarming reunion would have to wait. Already, the marines the two were taking refuge from had finished reorganising themselves from their previous blunder and were beginning to close in. The time for their capture—or recapture for one of them—was imminent. Having already been cuffed once today, the revolutionary was in no immediate hurry to get back into them. It was then did he have another one of his notoriously ingenious plans, the ones that made his crew shudder at the mere thought of them. He peeked out from the top of the barrel, in a way only he considered to be cautious before ducking back down and grabbing his companion by the shoulders, squaring him up to that they were face-to-face. He wore an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.
“I have a plan,” he said solemnly, his amber eyes glimmering with absolute seriousness (surely repeating how “serious” he is makes it believable, right?). “But you’ll have to trust me, alright?”
Without even waiting for a reply, the young man transferred his grip to his companion’s elbow, if he would allow it. With or without the older man, Ronx then leapt out of hiding...and landed right in the middle of the searching hounds. It took several moments for him to be noticed, mostly because his presence in their midst was too outrageous to believe.
“Oh, hello,” he said cheerfully, before flinging his hands upwards.
[Noctis Spica]
The marines were rattled and had yet to fully comprehend the revolutionary’s surprise appearance—some even rubbed their eyes in disbelief. Their weapons lifted at the ready too slow but then a black shadow suddenly loomed over their heads. A sense of foreboding and dread rippled through the mass of marines. Fortunately, the citizens and tourists had been pushed to the edges from the marines’ shoving and searching. Fortunate...or calculated? Heads turned upwards, briefly forgetting the criminals. And that was all he needed. If the pirate had allowed himself to be dragged by the revolutionary, Ronx would have then made for the tiny opening left by the distracted marines with or without his companion in tow, otherwise beckoning him to follow. As they left the vicinity, the black cloud looming overhead suddenly dispersed into a hailstorm of stinging darts and they left the screaming marines in their wake.
“I’d say that went well,” chirped Ronx, without glancing back to check on the physical or mental wellbeing of his ally. “Oh! This looks promising!”
He had spotted a beautiful canal with sparkling water and gentle waves. Only seconds had passed before he unexpectedly shoved the pirate—if he had followed—into the water. Whether or not the older man would be taken by surprise or recover himself before he could tumble into the canal, Ronx would spring into the air and curl into a cannonball. He hung suspended in the air for a moment before rocketing straight down and making an impressive splash with a loud whoop. Behind them, the marines were catching up again. But by then, the water had already swept the reckless revolutionary out of sight.
***
Clarice burst out laughing, watching as the water carried her revolutionary idol—and possibly her pirate idol too—away, before realising they had also escaped her. Cursing, she let her delight settle, before another explosive bout of laughter took over her body again.
“Oh no, I have to find them again,” she snickered, clutching her stomach as she tried to contain herself. “Pfft!”
This went on for some time, but eventually, the red-haired lady was able enough to be on her way again. She wasn’t in any particular hurry. After all, she knew the canals well enough—at least better than the marines—and could surmise where the idol/s would stop.
- STATS TRACKER:
Hitpoints (HP) : 260
Attack (ATK) : 290
Defense (DEF) : 300
Reflex (RX) : 345
Willpower (WP) : 320
- 1 TECHNIQUES USED | 1 PASSIVES USED | 0 ACTIVES USED:
- Noctis Spica:
- Noctis Spica
Technique Level: 20
Technique Range: 200m
Technique Cooldown: 15 posts
Technique Description: The user sends as many darts into the air as he can, creating a giant cloud that blackens the sky. These darts are then sent raining down on those within the area of effect
- Kenbunshoku (Passive):
- Passive Bonus (Level 5): Ability to passively detect a presence within 200m.
- DAMAGE TRACKER:
- TECHNIQUE COOLDOWNS:
- NPC TRACKER 0:
cait at btn
- Maxwell
[tracker=/t139-richard-maxwell#516]
Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 49
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species/Tribe : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Bounty : [bel=r] 243,000,000
Quality Score : S+
Income Bonus : +0.20 (to all allies); +0.11 (from turf)
Shop Discount : -10%
Balance : [bel] 2,204,829,125
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]][[berryprinter]]
[[identitytheft]][[identitytheft]][[improviseadaptovercome]][[logia]]
Turf : [turf=/t353-turf-details-rubeck-island#1168]Rubeck Island[/turf]
Posts : 321
Re: [Abandoned] [Open] What are the odds?
Wed Jan 31, 2018 2:23 pm
Richard had never been much of a believer, but right now he could believe Lady Luck was giggling gleefully at this turn of events. Of all the possible people... Why? What had he done to deserve all this? ...Don’t answer that. When the words finally sank in, a colorful concoction of responses swirled in the criminal’s mind. A part of him wanted to sneer, another to scream. There were so many words he was dying to use here... and trust was not one of them. What ultimately came out was an awkward sort of smile and hushed whisper. "Ah, well, you see, I really need to be going so..."
Too late, already getting dragged along.
Against all better judgment, the rat found himself in the middle of a wolf pack. Disbelief and terror had him frozen stiff. Eyes bulging, nose running and mouth stuck agape, he could barely crane his head enough to aim an empty stare at the reckless revolutionary. If this was supposed to be a joke, he wasn’t laughing. Rather, he could feel the black shadow of death looming over him. Welp, this was it then. They were dead. Practically dead. Not that it made much difference at this point. If the hounds didn’t shoot them on the spot, they would be captured and tried for their crimes. Punished. Put down. Made to dance the hempen jig.
Only a splash of cold water snapped the criminal back to reality. He really needed to stop spacing out like that. It happened so quickly. His fall had been anything but graceful, like a life-sized rag doll thrown over the edge. And the following belly flop wouldn’t win any competitions either. By now the chipper words had gained a mocking echo in his mind. Went well, he said... Looks promising, he said... "Blub blub blub", Richard respectfully disagreed. While the flowing water swept the dysfunctional duo away, one of them wasn’t floating all that well. The criminal splashed and thrashed, but his head just couldn’t break the surface for a gasp of precious air. He just kept sinking until only his weakly squirming hand was visible. See, something large and heavy was dragging him down... Yet his greedy grip refused to let go.
Even if it killed him.
Fortunately, the drowning rat managed to bang his head against a maintenance ladder and somehow got trapped against it too. Silver linings. The endless flow was eager to drag him further towards the sea, but he decided this was his stop. The squirming, gloved hand found a grip on a sturdy rung. Beneath the surface a pair of legs did the same. Finally, through sheer stubborn effort, the criminal’s head popped into view. He spewed out a spray of water and panic spittle before getting a taste of fresh air. And it tasted like freedom.
While gasping for breath, the disheveled doctor scanned his surroundings. Questions rapidly bubbled in the imaginary bottles. Where was he now? How far were the marines? And where did that troublesome revolutionary go? His venomous gaze traced the canal’s path. Right, going with the flow would eventually dump him into the sea... At the harbor, no? Finally that sharp, scheming smile returned. Plenty of ships leaving, lot of people coming and going. Nobody would ask too many questions from a fellow with beli... And a gun. Oh yes, now there was an end goal worth pursuing.
A ticket out of this island.
Too late, already getting dragged along.
Against all better judgment, the rat found himself in the middle of a wolf pack. Disbelief and terror had him frozen stiff. Eyes bulging, nose running and mouth stuck agape, he could barely crane his head enough to aim an empty stare at the reckless revolutionary. If this was supposed to be a joke, he wasn’t laughing. Rather, he could feel the black shadow of death looming over him. Welp, this was it then. They were dead. Practically dead. Not that it made much difference at this point. If the hounds didn’t shoot them on the spot, they would be captured and tried for their crimes. Punished. Put down. Made to dance the hempen jig.
Only a splash of cold water snapped the criminal back to reality. He really needed to stop spacing out like that. It happened so quickly. His fall had been anything but graceful, like a life-sized rag doll thrown over the edge. And the following belly flop wouldn’t win any competitions either. By now the chipper words had gained a mocking echo in his mind. Went well, he said... Looks promising, he said... "Blub blub blub", Richard respectfully disagreed. While the flowing water swept the dysfunctional duo away, one of them wasn’t floating all that well. The criminal splashed and thrashed, but his head just couldn’t break the surface for a gasp of precious air. He just kept sinking until only his weakly squirming hand was visible. See, something large and heavy was dragging him down... Yet his greedy grip refused to let go.
Even if it killed him.
Fortunately, the drowning rat managed to bang his head against a maintenance ladder and somehow got trapped against it too. Silver linings. The endless flow was eager to drag him further towards the sea, but he decided this was his stop. The squirming, gloved hand found a grip on a sturdy rung. Beneath the surface a pair of legs did the same. Finally, through sheer stubborn effort, the criminal’s head popped into view. He spewed out a spray of water and panic spittle before getting a taste of fresh air. And it tasted like freedom.
While gasping for breath, the disheveled doctor scanned his surroundings. Questions rapidly bubbled in the imaginary bottles. Where was he now? How far were the marines? And where did that troublesome revolutionary go? His venomous gaze traced the canal’s path. Right, going with the flow would eventually dump him into the sea... At the harbor, no? Finally that sharp, scheming smile returned. Plenty of ships leaving, lot of people coming and going. Nobody would ask too many questions from a fellow with beli... And a gun. Oh yes, now there was an end goal worth pursuing.
A ticket out of this island.
________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
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