If you even find yourself in the famous city of Loguetown, make sure you take a moment to watch the sun rise. People the world over swear that it's the best view you'll ever get of a sunrise in the East Blue. You peer out with watchful eyes as the wee hours of the morning pass you by. The darkness slowly turns to red and orange. The clouds light up. And then the sun rises over the horizon, spilling it's colours across the ocean like a cracked egg. And as it bathes the entire city in it's warm glow, a feeling of promise and new beginnings seems to soak into your bones.

It is for this very reason that the town recieves such a high amount of visitors. There's something about it that really gets into peoples heads. It give them that push to try something new. Many believe the place to be lucky, and like to visit before making a big change. The people lovingly refer to it as the city of beginnings. And for pirates the name is even more fitting. For a pirate, Loguetown was much more than just a nice view and pleasant superstition. It's practically sacred. It is the holy ground upon which the Pirate King was executed. The very place where the golden age of piracy began. The very air is thick with history. All the magnificent famous pirates that aspiring newbies look up to? They all visited this place too. They stood here, breathing in the same air, watching the same sun. For a pirate, there was no better place to begin your journey.

And so, as the sun rose on another beautiful day in Loguetown, many aspiring young pirates were undoubtedly staring down the barrel of their futures' gun with promise twinkling in their eyes. Even if they hadn't watched the sunrise, they would be feeling this excitement. It was in the air, and it was infectious. Because the day had finally come. The day they were waiting for. The day they had picked to become a pirate. The day it was all going to begin.

OOC: Write up a quick post and don't forget to mention where you are and what you're doing. It doesn't matter if you're scattered around the city or located in the same place; whatever floats your boat. You can do whatever you want. I'll start our little game in a while. Good luck!

Eyes closed to the world, Claribel flinched as a beam of sunlight weaved through the building tops and chimneys to smack her in the face. "Hnn?" she groaned as she lifted her head, blinking her blue eyes. Parting her long pink hair, it didn't do much to block the sunlight.

Still not quite awake, Claribel dropped her head back down, thumping it against the wood, before letting herself stay adrift in that half awake state as the sun climbed a bit more. After a few minutes, a voice called out, "Claribel? What are you doing here?"

Lifting her head off the door to her workplace, Claribel stumbled a step away, before yawning, "W-work."

Her mustachioed employer moved to unlock the door, noting, "You're off today, aren't you?"

Eyes snapping open, Claribel gasped, "Eh!? No way!" Pouting a bit, she admitted, "I-I forgot..."

"Well, that's normal, at least for you. Still, I can't complain: at least you're forgetting you don't need to come to work instead of the other way around," the boss said, moving into the store.

Claribel followed, habitually raising the blinds over the window, which was plastered with posters advertising some music groups: largely local, but plenty that had gotten East Blue or worldwide renown. Looking around, she saw the walls covered with hooks, many dangling sets of headset TDs, labeled with prices, a good number of them empty and in need of restocking. There were also a few shelves and ground space dedicated to bigger ones and other music players. While the boss went to the back room, Claribel yelled, "I don't want to go home so I'm going to borrow one!"

"Again? At least write down which one you took, so... Actually, we got a new shipment last night." A few moments later, the boss came out with a yellow and silver TD headset. Tossing it, Claribel caught it as he suggested, "New 'Shin Grasp'. You're good at making recommendations, so give it a listen before you come in tomorrow."

Throwing it over her ears with a smile, Claribel giggled, "Got it!" A bounce in her step, she bolted out the door, out into the town. As she stepped out, she raised her hand, about to start the music, but something came into her head...

She'd forgotten to go to work before, but now she was forgetting not to? Why was that? Did it have to do with the reasons she came her in the first place? This was the one and only Loguetown after all.

Just as she had begun to dwell on it, her finger tapped the button on her TD, music blasting away her worries in the dawnlight.

Even as the sun heralded the arrival of a new day, in some places, the work of the night remained unfinished....

The thuggish-looking man slammed his hand down on the desk, his sizeable nose ring shaking as he did so. He stared daggers at the terrified old man before him with a mocking grin on his face. His equally barbaric cohorts behind him laughed at the elderly storeowner's yelp in reply.

"Come on, Gramps, you know how this game is played..." Nose Ring said with a hiss. "You get a loan from the Spice Boys, the Spice Boys expect to be paid back. How can you call yourself a reputable business if you don't hold up your end of the bargain?..."

The old man stammered as he mustered up enough courage to speak back. "B-But....This interest you're talking about is unreasonable! I-I asked for sixty-thousand Beli and you expect me to pay you back six hundred-thou-"

Nose Ring slammed his hand on the desk again to silence the old man. "Your own fault for taking the deal, old-timer! And we both know you can't reveal to the Marines that you've been dealing with street gangs. Now...I've lost my patience. You can either give us what we're owed, or our muscle is going to have a more personal chat with you....."

The shopkeeper's eyes fearfully shifted to the figure standing off to the side, behind Nose Ring. A gaunt-looking shape of a man, concealed by a thick cloak, the long hilt of a massive sword held haphazardly in one of his hands as the blade dragged on the ground. From beneath the cloak, the figure made guttural, growling sounds, like a beast.....

"...B-But....I...I-I can't....."

Nose Ring let out a malicious chuckle. "Wrong answer." He took a few steps back, and folded his arms. "Take care of him, Scab."

The old man fearfully fell from his chair and backed against the wall, panicking.

"No! No, please!"

.......

The figure didn't move.

There was a silence in the room, as Nose Ring repeated his order.

".....Take CARE of him, Scab."

.....

The figure didn't move.

"Scab."

No movement.

"SCAB!!"

Nada.

"Scab, WHAT are you doing!?" Nose Ring angrily said as he turned and grabbed at the figure's cloak, yanking it off.

Perhaps it would have been better had the cloak stayed on, as the sight without it was worse: Hideously burnt, scarred flesh, haphazardly stitched together in a shoddy attempt at reconstruction. A dirty, frayed-looking black jacket and a hair of wild-unkempt, equally black hair. He looked more like a zombie out of a horror story than a man; a truly terrifying sight.

...Or, it would be, if he were not so clearly fast asleep on his feet, the guttural noises from before being his snores.

"...Zzzzzzzzz........."

An awkward silence filled the room for a moment, before Nose Ring began slapping his slumbering "muscle."

"HOW THE HELL ARE YOU ASLEEP!?" He shouted petulantly, aggressively rousing the scorched young man from his slumber. He looked at Nose Ring through bleary eyes, blinking a few times before tenderly rubbing his scarred face.

"...Hahh....Hey, sorry, man...." The young man spoke with a quiet, gentle voice and a yawn, "Didn't get much sleep tonight, too itchy....musta dozed off. My bad..."

"We're WORKING here, Scab!" Nose Ring shouted, "What kind of mercenary takes a nap in the middle of a JOB!?"

"...Hey, man, look," Scab replied lazily, punctuated by another yawn. "I told you, the name's Scabbard....Scab-bard...Like on a sword, y'know? Scab's like....a way grosser name."

"I don't care what your name is!!" Nose Ring said as he rubbed his temples in exasperation. "Just go do your job and thrash the old man!"

Scabbard stared blankly at Nose Ring before looking over at the cowering shopkeeper. He walked closer to him, one hand in a pocket, the other loudly dragging his huge sword behind him. He stared, curiously, before looking back at Nose Ring and pointing to the shopkeep.

"...This old dude?"

"Yes."

"....What'd he do again?"

"HE OWES US MONEY!"

"Oh! Right, right, alright....." Scabbard looked back at the terrified (and now mildly confused) shopkeeper as he walked up to him, causing him to flinch in terror. Scabbard crouched down to eye level with the old man, and gave him a dig in the shoulder.

"..Uhh....Take that." He said in half-hearted triumph.

Nose Ring stared at Scab in disbelief as he rose back to his feet. ".....What the hell was that!?"

"...Uh..I hit him!"

"That was BARELY A HIT! Use your god damn sword, maybe!?"

Scab looked down groggily at the massive thing. "...What, this? Dude, I'm not gonna hit the old-timer with this...He's like...old and shit. He'd get squished..."

"So CUT HIM with it!"

"...Ah, no, I can't do that. S'not sharp."

"It's in its sheathe! Take it out!"

"...Oh, uh...I can't do that. S'locked up, and I don't got the key."

"......."

"....Maybe I could knock a chair over?"

Nose Ring looked like he was ready to blow a gasket. And then proceeded to blow a gasket.

"THAT'S IT! You're off! Get the hell out, and you can forget about your pay!"

"Hey, hold on, like, maybe I could...."

"OUT!"

Scabbard was collectively shoved out of the store and into the alley outside by Nose Ring and his remaining compatriots, the door behind him slamming shut. He blinked a few times, staring at the door while processing what just happened, then sighed heavily as it clicked in his head. This was the third time in a month he'd been kicked off of a job he'd been hired to do, by three different gangs, no less. At this rate, his rep would render him unemployable. He scratched his arm in quiet annoyance. Stressful thinking always irritated his skin....actually, a lot of things irritated his skin. Pretty much everything irritated his dry, itchy, burned skin. God, the thing's he'd do for a bottle of lotion right about now, or a dip in a hot spring.....

As his mind sleepily wandered, his eyes got an unexpected hit of sunlight, and he wince. Shielding his eyes, he looked up at the warmly orange sky from the dingey alleyway. The sun was finally up, it was a new day.

With another yawn, Scabbard walked out of the alleyway into the busy streets of Lougetown, his sword rested on his shoulders. The back-alley crook life was starting to become unviable. Maybe it was time to start thinking about the future more, to start figuring things out...

The fisherman gave another tug, and hauled the net up out of the ocean as the sea salt stung his eyes. Wiping the tears away with one sun-browned hand, he gave a glance back towards the shoreline, now only a hop-skip-and-a-jump away. The trawler had been out all night, and had come back with a nice haul. Now he could finally head home, get a nice shower, a hot meal, and some much needed rest.

"HEEEEEEY MIIIIIISTEEEEEER!!"

He turned; was someone calling to him? Who could it be, out here on the water at such an early hour? Another night-fisher coming in?

No. It was a boy, in a dinghy. A...very fast dinghy. A very fast dinghy that was approaching more and more quickly, even though the boy had no oars, and in fact was clinging to the boat and leaning back, his legs rigid in front of him like a toboggan rider who was trying desperately to put his heels into the snow. A nervous smile plastered his face.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE REVERSE THRUST?"

"Reverse what?!" the man shouted, just before he ducked under the awning near his ship's cabin. The dinghy shot by like a bullet, the young man's screams doppler-ing into the distance. The fisherman could have sword he saw a...large hole of some kind, spewing rocket fire, coming right out of the youth's back!

"ME NEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIITHEEEEEEEEERRR!!"

And so Zehst Messerschmitt came to Loguetown, though not at all in the fashion one might have imagined. The rocket propelled dinghy hit the sand and kept going, its hull shedding timbers as it ramped up off a dune and sailed into the air. Zehst looked around in awe at all the houses--the villages back on the Gecko Islands hadn't been near this big--then remembered he was falling out of the sky at something like a hundred and twenty miles an hour.

He'd finally figured out how to make the rockets come out wherever and whenever he wanted. Now he had to figure out how to put on the brakes. He supposed he could always just...turn them off?

Of course, by the time he came to this conclusion--having crossed his legs and put one hand on his chin, nodding sagely--he had already plowed through a line of laundry, an extremely alarmed cat, and some poor old man's cabbage cart. With bits of vegetable and an angry cat clinging to his face, he looked up with a grin and snapped his fingers. The rocket was sucked back into his flesh with a "shwoop" sound, and the boat began to gradually slow down. Of course, by this time there wasn't much left of it save the seat that Zehst was sitting on. As the momentum began to die off the boy found himself spinning in circles, then ricocheting off an uneven cobblestone to crash through the wall of someone's shop.

"Aha-cough! It did--huck, hagh, ew cat hair--it did work! Zehst my man, you're two for two today!"

As the dust and wood chips cleared, Zehst stood up with the cat from before now held in his outstretched arms and several new, apparently unnoticed, scratchmarks turning his face into bloody hatchwork. He looked around the crash site and spotted several people and an old man. One of the big guys had a nose ring.

"Hey, uh...I don't suppose you guys know where I could get a new boat, do ya?" he asked, nervously throwing the cat over his shoulder. It let out a loud yeowl, then in the distance there was the sound of someone's garbage being scattered and glass breaking.

Lucretia squinted her eyes, watching the sun slowly rise over the blue edge of the ocean. This was, most certainly, the earliest she had ever woken up in her life. She had chosen to wake up so early specifically to see the sunrise, as a sort of good-luck charm for her upcoming… endeavor? Her adventure? She still hadn’t decided what to call it -- whatever it was, it was going to be something grand.

...That sun really was bright, wasn’t it? Maybe she could have afforded to sleep in an hour or two, after all. Well, no time for regrets! Now was more the time for action! Now was also, perhaps more pressingly, the time to sneak away before her parents (or her sister…) woke up. She pulled her legs up, standing on the edge of Savaronitelle Manor’s roof. For one last time, she surveyed the grounds, enjoying the feeling of superiority that standing on a tall object gave her.

“Ms. Lucretia? What are you doing up there?”

...Oh dear. Their butler had seen her. Lucretia scowled. Just her luck… “What business is it of yours?” she asked. “This is my parents’ property, I can go wherever I please!”

The old manservant scratched his beard. “Of course it is, madam,” he said, “But it’s not like you to be up so early. Is something the matter?”

Lucretia’s scowl faded, replaced with a certain hesitance. She paused a moment. “How did you even know I was up here? I was doing my best to be hidden…”

The butler pointed a gloved hand to the extended ladder that Lucretia had set up against the wall of the manor.

“Oh,” Lucretia said.

Sighing a bit, she climbed down the ladder, turning to look at the butler. “Well? It’s not a crime to be out this early, is it?”

“Er-- no, but-”

Lucretia smirked, sensing that she had the advantage. “Go back inside. I hate interruptions like this - you’re spoiling my sunrise!”

The butler, nodded, sensing that his job could be on the line here, and hurried back inside without a word further. Lucretia watched him go inside, before looking back up at the manor. She had thought before that she might feel homesick - but she didn’t. The only thing she felt right now was a steely resolve.

“...Hmph… when I come back here, you’ll see.”

Without another word, she turned away, walking out of the front gate of their mansion. She didn’t look back… if only because she was distracted by the strange sight of a rocket-propelled dinghy flying through the air down in Loguetown proper.

And crashing. Into some building.

“...!”

Not wasting any time, Lucretia took off, running at full bore down the hill and into Loguetown - beelining straight for the crash site.

The patrons of the shop all stared flabbergasted at their new arrival, some looking back in disbelief at the hole where once stood solid wall.

Nose Ring, however, had quickly gone from stunned to beside himself. Stomping up to Zehst and forcibly prodding him with a long, bony finger.

"Where the HELL do you get off, interrupting our business!?" He said loudly, prodding Zehst with his finger at every enunciation. "This is the SECOND line of bullshit I've had to deal with in the past five minutes! Can't a guy shake down an old man in PEACE!?"

Meanwhile, along his walk through the city streets, Scabbard had come across the site of the grisly murder of a poor cabbage cart.

"....Woah, what?...."

He slowly approached a nearby cabbage on the ground and picked it up, staring at it with tired, sad eyes.

"....Dude...." He quietly mused to himself mournfully as he took a bite out of it. "Who's got, like,...a veggie vendetta?...."

A large, balding man with a curly mustache and a gut as round as a pig’s let out a heavy sigh as he watched the sun rise over the town. He had his arms crossed and was seated on a crate of cabbages going by the label on the back side of it. There was a long, thoughtful pause after that, and he let the sun rise on his face before finally speaking. As he turned to his right, his expression softened just a bit as he stated, “I think it’s a sign too, Teej.”

Teodore Jay Dugrass was seated atop an empty barrel, his top-heavy physique and younger appearance contrasting with that of the older man. His expression lit up as the old man expressed his approval. “Right?!” He hopped off the barrel and looked back to his former boss with a grin, “It’s gotta be a sign if this happens right when I’m considering leaving!”

The “this” in question refers to the charred remains of a restaurant laying behind the two. Hours prior, the once proud restaurant “Homme Gros” suffered an explosion by the hands of a newbie employee. How exactly they did it boggled everyone’s mind, but containing the resulting fire and saving as much of the building as possible was more important then. Unfortunately, the fire was so severe, the only things that could be saved was the money made that day, a crate, and a barrel.

Flashing back to the present, the portly man let out a groan as he shifted in his seat. “Well, either way it’s just as good for me too. I’m pretty sure running that restaurant was what made all my hair fall out.” He chuckled as he rubbed at the noticeable bald patch on his scalp.

“Heh. A shame that it had to end like this, though,” TJ sullenly replied as he looked back at the rubble.

“Bah. No use wallowing on your “dream resignation.” We both know you wouldn’t’ve left unless I closed up shop myself.”

“True, true. In my defense, it would be unbecoming of a gentleman if I simply left at the peak of your business.”

“Hah! You keep telling yourself that, Teej.” The portly man got off his crate and hefted it up with a groan. “I’ll figure out what to do from here. Maybe I can finally cash in on some insurance. Get me some easy retirement money.” He chuckled again and looked back at TJ, giving him a confident smile, “You should get back home now. I bet you got some stuff to take care of before you set out. Good luck out on the sea, Teodore. You’re gonna need it!” On that note, he finally turned back to the road and started walking away.

TJ wasn’t going to just let his boss of seven years simply walk away without a word back from him, so gratefully he bowed his head and firmly shouted, “Thank you very much, Monsieur Pierre!”

And thus came an end to one chapter of TJ’s life…

Wasting no time, TJ just started making his way back home. He decided to leave the barrel where it was, figuring if he needed it for whatever reason he could always just come back to it. For now, though, he had to pack! He had to get ready! He… probably should’ve asked for a business-starting loan from Monsieur Pierre, now that he thought about it, but what’s done is done.

As he walked out from an alley he heard the sound of something sailing through the sky. Looking to the side, he saw something quickly approaching in the distance. Was that… a dinghy?? And… someone on it?? He noticed it to be an awfully dinged up dinghy the closer it came. That thought couldn’t be entertained for long, however, and TJ let out quite the un(gentle)manly yelp as he recoiled back into the alley, just narrowly avoiding getting rammed full force by what was left of the hull.

"That nearly gave me a heart attack!" he thought. It took a few seconds for him to catch his breath, but when he did he peeked out from the alley. The dinghy was gone, but he noticed that it apparently rammed through a cabbage cart in its wake. Stepping out from the alley, he walked up to the remains of it and sighed. “What a waste…” he remarked.

Noticing someone else also inspecting the wreck, TJ turned his attention to them. He spied with his little eye something black-haired! Something with a huge sword! Something hORRIFICALLY BURNT AND SCARRED. Seeing Scabbard up close all of a sudden elicited his second un(gentle)manly yelp of the day.

"So this is Loguetown, huh?"

Giko shaded her eyes and squinted, peering over the town. From the crashes, bangs, and rapidly-forming crowd, it seemed like some rough-and-tumble sorts were starting a brawl down by the shopping district. Golly, she didn't want to be a part of that. More importantly, it was lunchtime, and that meant Giko had to think about getting some lunch! One couldn't make friends on an empty stomach, after all. Somewhere good to eat, though... The shopping district was crawling with rubberneckers, so that was out. Even if she got through, all the places would probably be shut tight until those hooligans calmed down. Maybe she should ask a local?

She clattered her way around the plaza, accosting passers-by who, for their part, gave her a wide berth and refused to make eye contact, instead glaring at something behind her and muttering something about a pervert. Giko tried turning around, but she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Was it her clothes? Something on her face? Or maybe...

Maybe she had a stalker.

An extremely sneaky stalker who was directly behind her at all times.

It made perfect sense. A fragile young maiden like her, clearly new and unsteady in an unfamiliar land- why, of course she'd have a stalker. That was obvious. So obvious that she now wondered why she hadn't thought of it before, even. She had to report this to the local authorities at once. Evidence, though... It would be tricky to make a sketch if she didn't even know what he looked like. Giko needed, if not a friend, an ally.

Giko moved up next to a girl wearing some sort of shells over her ears- weird fashions, these locals- and tried to get her attention.

"Psst!", she hissed.

"Psst! Hey, you! With the pink hair!"

No response. Clearly, those fashionable shells must have muffled her hearing. Giko would have to get the girl's attention another way.

A limp-wristed wooden hand clattered over Claribel's shoulder, followed shortly by a lifeless, artificial face creeping into view, far too close for comfort. Had it been an ordinary person, this method of approach would have been strange. Done by a puppet, it was downright surreal.

"Heeeeeeeeey theeeeeere~", Giko whispered, giving the girl a wink.

Zehst's expression changed from a bashful smile to a quizzical stare as Nose Ring stomped over towards him and demanded to know why he'd interrupted them. But before Zehst could answer, the man poked him, none too gently, with each shouted word. At first he pushed the man's hand aside.

"Stop that." he said, chuckling. It kind of tickled. The next poke was harder, and Zehst's eyes narrowed. "Stoppit." He lightly slapped Nose Ring's hand away. A harder poke. "STAHP." With the childish exclamation he grabbed Nose Ring's hand and actually pushed it away. But then here it came again, another pointing finger headed for his chest--

"I NEED AN ADULT!"

With a "shoop" sound, a metal cylinder suddenly just grew out of the young man's elbow, at an angle to the rest of his arm as he drew it back. As his fist clenched tightly, the rocket flared to life, sputtering just once before sprouting a bright orange-white flame from its end.

"CRUISE KNUCKLE!"

At high speed and with considerable force behind it, the rocket powered punch headed right for Nose Ring's gut. Zehst was even leaning in, putting all of his shoulder and body weight into the blow. It most certainly would not be a cruise, but then it was named for the cruiser missile, not the popular vacation transport.

Of all of the stores in Loguetown, the old shopkeeper's one that was probably boasting the most action right now; gangsters, more gangsters, and a young rocketeer that crashed into a building using a dinghy, asking where he could buy a new boat.

The question would mark the "arrival" of yet another person.

"I know a store that sells boats." A unknown voice said. Although as far as anyone would be able to see, the voice had no owner.

"I think it's called 'Sink or Sail' or something like that."

As the voice continued to speak, it became increasingly clear where it was coming from. At that moment, one of the lids of one of the few crates that were dotted around the store burst open, revealing a young teenager with dark brown hair and wearing blue and exotic ninja garb. This was Tenmon Tamashi, the weirdo enigmatic teenage ninja that had asserted himself in Loguetown only a few months ago. His appearance from the crate raised several questions: How did he get in there? How long was he in there? Why was he in there? Why did he decide to come out now, of all possible times? What's more, he didn't even seem to properly assess what exactly was happening in the store right now, being focused on explaining where the boat store was to the man who had crashed into the building and broke his dinghy (tee-hee) rather than the brawl now taking place in front of him.

"It's west from here, past the broken execution platform and next to the old Arms Shop." The boy said, pointing roughly in the direction of where the store was.

At least his directions were accurate.

"I AM AN AD-"

Is all Nose Ring was able to say before he was quickly silence in shock at the sight of the boy's arm turning into a rocket. Was his eyes deceiving him!? Was this....

"...the legendary devil frui-!?!"

Was all he was able to say before the Cruise Knuckle impacted his midsection with incredible force. He let out a throaty, gagging cry of agony as fist met gut, before being launched right through another wall, his legs dangling over the bottom of the hole as he lay on the ground outside, bloodied and white-eyed.

The other gang members, who were not at the right angle to see Zehst's arm transform, were at once shocked and angered.

"Oi! This kid's no joke!! Who is he!?"

"Maybe he's a hitman sent by the Sugar Boys!"

"NOBODY puts Peppa through a wall like that 'cept his Ma! You're asking for PAIN, hitman!"

The men all drew their weapons on Zehst, ready and willing to use them. The tension however, soon gave way to an awkward silence as they all witnessed Tenmon Tamashi stealthily rise from his crate.

"......."

One of the thugs leaned towards another.

"It's that weirdo ninja again...."

"What! You looking for a fight, too!?" One of the thugs said as he turned his sword from Zehst to Tenmon Tanashi.

Meanwhile, back at the destroyed cabbage cart, Scabbard looked up from his cabbage breakfast at the ripped fellow who just let out a very un(gentle)manly yelp right next to him. He stared at him incredulously, raising a thin, black eyebrow.

"...Dude....Did that just come outta you?..."

Head bobbing lightly to the music, Claribel was completely engrossed, her feet trumping along without much rhyme or reason to her approach.During a lull in between songs, she let out a giggle: she'd have to keep this one. Sorry, boss man.

Feeling something on her shoulder, she realized how wrapped up she was getting. A bit groggy, she lifted one side of the TDs, turning to look at her caller.

"Heeeeeeeeey theeeeeere~" the voice of the firm face spoke out, a wooden shutter clunking closed over one of the eyes.

"GUHEEEEE!" Claribel cried out like some kind of rodent, thoroughly spooked, bouncing a few steps away. Landing on her feet, her eyes were wide as she stared at the girl puppet and...uh...some guy.

Tapping the button on her TDs, pausing them, her expression was vacant as she blinked, looking over the pair. W-was this some kind of show? There really wasn't anyone else around: Claribel stuck to quieter areas when listening to music, whether on purpose or not.

Raising a hand, she greeted, "G-good morning?" Actually, had Claribel eaten yet? She was just gonna steal her boss' lunch but that wasn't happening today...

That shriek confirmed it. Giko definitely had some sort of pervert lurking just outside her cone of vision. How terrifyingly clever! Loguetown deviants were really something else!

"Shh, don't react! We don't want to provoke him.", She whispered, "I need to ask you something. Act. Natural."

She put her other hand overtop the first to steady the pink-haired girl. From her demeanor, it was clear: This stalker was not just any everyday stalker but some sort of highly-advanced superstalker who terrified even witnesses into silence. Definitely not someone to be trifled with. She'd have to navigate this scenario with extreme caution. Giko withdrew a sketchpad and a carpenter's pencil from a bag hanging at her hip, preparing to draw.

"I need you to describe the person standing behind me. His face, especially.", she whispered slowly, "-Can you do that?"

Name: Chamber R. Wesson
Location: Logue Town - Outside the Store
Mentions: @MacDuffy@Poke@Zeroth

---

The vicinity about the store became assaulted by a noise—a musical noise that sounded cheerful and uplifting, and at the same time strange for someone was…yodeling. The yodeler appeared outside the hole where the gang leader known as Nose Ring laid in an unconscious stupor. The man wore a black long coat over a white tunic-like shirt. In his right hand, he carried a long musket and in his left, he held a poster. His teeth came together in a brilliant grin as his yodeling ceased. His blue eyes scrutinized the etching on the poster and the man at his feet.

“Well, what do you know, the works all done for me,” said the gunmen. He reached down to flick the massive nose ring that stretched the scumbag’s nostrils. What was the point? Why would anyone sacrifice beauty for a bull ring? He didn’t understand it—not to say the guy was beautiful to begin with.

Chamber straightened and peered inside the store to see several of Nose Ring’s possible henchmen surrounding two other individuals. He raised a hand to his head, his fingers reaching beneath his settler’s hat to scratch his blue hair. Did he want to get involved?

…

Grinning and waving to the individuals in the store, Chamber quickly bade: “Thanks for the freebie!”

Snagging Nose Ring by the ring of his nose, he started quickly dragging him away to turn his big-ass in.

What was supposed to be a typical shake down, had turned into quite the commosion in a matter of minutes. Although apparently saved, the shop owner did not look releaved. As a matter of fact, he appeared a bit more anxious that he was before. His eyes frantically kept count of the individuals in his store along with the curious bystanders that gathered outside.

“This isn’t good; not good at all.” The old man thought to himself as he began to profusely perspire. A gallon-worth of cold sweat suddenly trickled down from his entire body. It made you think, what had him so worried?

Trembling and in a panic, the shop owner rushed towards Chambers. “Faster, faster. You have to leave!” He said as he forcefully kept on pushing on the gunman’s back.

“Everyone, out!” He even motioned the rest of the Spice Boys to head out the door. The day was supposed to be simple; he’d get beaten up and lose some money, that was the worst case scenario he had thought of. Sadly, he was obviously mistaken.

With the series of events that had transpired, the unconscious Nose Ring along with his lackies were left stupefied for a few moments. The mercenary they hired was lousy, their boss was puched through a wall, random kids keep popping out of nowhere, and now the old man they were about to beat up was ordering them get out of the store.

A clenched fist suddenly crashed into the face of the old, forcing him to the ground with his nose bleeding and broken. All he coud do was cry out in pain.

“Not sure whatcha tryin’ to pull here, but we still gonna be takin’ yo money, gramps!”

With their boss temporarily out of the picture, it seems the grunts had become proactiv. Their job was simple though, get the cash and beat up whoever gets in your way. The atmosphere was getting rowdier and the fact that more goons were entering the store didn't make things any less troublesome.

"Don'tcha worry kiddos. After we're done with him, you guys are next. You gonna see firsthand what happens when you mess with the Spice Boys.

Simultaneous laughter and chuckles filled the shop as various types of weapons were being brought out; chains, swords, pipes, brass knuckles, daggers, you name it. Although muscleheaded, these mooks meant bussiness.

"Trash the place!"

OOC: Since these are small update, I plan to type up more as soon as people start to post. I know its kinda boring now, but we'll get to the juicy stuff eventually. Anyway, there's an unlimited amount of fodder you can take out if you want. Or maybe you want to help out the old man? Or maybe just run away from the place if you don't want to get involved in a fight this early into the story. Up to you. Have fun!

Somehow, things had managed to go extremely badly in the span of a few minutes; the shopkeeper was knocked out, the gangsters had become restless, and more of them were entering the store by the second. At this rate, the Marines would take notice and turn the fight into an all-out war.

"Huh. Things have gotten interesting." Tenmon said, narrowly dodging a sword swing from one of the gangsters.

"Die, bastard!"

The Spice Boy goon took another swing at Tenmon. The young ninja jumped over both the blade and the gangster, his feet planting themselves on the shop counter. He briefly considered using his powers right there and then, but shook his head as he dismissed the idea; that would just destroy the old man's store even more. Tenmon needed to get outside before he started using his Burst Technique™.

"Ninja Arts: Flash Step!"

Tenmon took a low stance and darted forward, systematically stepping on the shoulders and heads of the various goons as he made a move for the door, deftly avoiding the series of weapons that were swung as the brawl continued. Dashing through the exit, he could've sworn that he accidentally stepped on someone that wasn't a goon there... Bah, forget it - they'd be fine.

Tenmon smirked. He was outside now. He could go all out. Some of Nose Ring's thugs were already outside, and more of them had followed Tenmon from inside the store too. A group of the thugs ran towards Tenmon with their weapons drawn, aiming to beat him to a pulp.

"Ninja Arts: Chi Burst!"

Tenmon thrust both of his hands outward toward the mob, releasing two explosions from his palms that enveloped the gangsters and sent them spiralling backward, with scorched bodies and white eyes telling of the teenager's mass K.O. The noise from the explosions rippled through and shook a portion of the town, alerting those nearby that something was going down in the shopping district.

The boy turned to face the remainder of the gangsters around him, drawing his ninjatō and taking another low stance which would foretell his next move.

Zehst smirked as he punched the guy with the nose ring through the wall. That'd teach him to be a weird pokey person. The young man listened to the exclamations of the two henchmen with a raised eyebrow. Hitman? What was that? Well, he had hit the guy...and he was definitely a man, last he checked...Zehst nodded to himself. He probably was a hitman! Then the crate next to him burst open, as a mysterious voice told Zehst where he could find a new boat. Who was this mysterious individual, who brought the good news of new dinghies to those who had no dinghies left?! It was...it was...

Zehst honestly had no idea who it was, but his outfit looked neat.

The thugs must not have thought so, though, because they turned their weapons on the new guy too. Zehst frowned. He had no idea where the Arms Shop or the Execution Platform was, so he would probably have to ask for directions. But he couldn't do that if these guys used their weapons on the new guy to chop him up! He would have to--

"WHAT IS THAT GODAWFUL NOISE!?" The rocketman suddenly shouted, clapping his hands over his ears. Someone was walking towards the shop, someone who was...emitting some kind of sonic weapon from his mouth! Zehst's eyes bugged out of his head. Who was capable of such destruction?! Even the weapons his parents invented hadn't been so...so...

Annoying!

The guy grabbed Nose Ring by the...nose ring...and said something, but Zehst didn't hear it because he still had his hands over his ears. When he noted that the strange reverberations threatening to break his brain had stopped, however, he let his hands drop back to his sides. Suddenly there was a lot of commotion as the old man told them all to leave the store, but the other guys weren't having any of that. In fact, more of them came in, and things were starting to get really violent.

"Well, this looks like fun!" he said. The fellow in the cool outfit seemed to agree, and promptly proclaimed his Ninja Arts before leaping into the air. He stepped on Zehst's head, prompting an "oof!" from the rocket man before he repeated the process with several more heads, leaping out of the store.

"Hey, you--" Zehst started. Then there was a big boom. As Zehst stood there, a horrified expression growing on his face, a white light seemed to envelop everything around him, reducing his surroundings to black lines like they were in a manga or something. Seconds later all the color came back, but the explosion had wiped several of the Spice Boys out.

"Stinger Strike!"

With the by-now familiar sound, a metal funnel shape blossomed from Zehst's left shoulder like a flower bud, and within it a fire bloomed before he was rocket propelled out of the shop, his feet sliding on the ground as his right arm pointed his elbow at his target. It looked a lot like some kind of martial arts strike, but really Zehst had just naturally felt like this was the best movement for what he had intended to do when he first practiced this move.

He surged forward, attacking--not the Spice Boys, but the mysterious man!

"What weapon did you use just now!?" He demanded. "Who designed it!?"

Natural?

Claribel pondered on that as the puppet held up a sketchpad. There wasn't much natural about this whole scene in the first place, so if she was supposed to act like this was natural...hey, this was getting interesting. Stepping forwards, Claribel got a closer look at the guy: he had a bit of facial hair, and his clothes were on the muted side, but one of his arms was definitely inside the puppet girl.

Claribel giggled, waving her arm in front of her own face, "Eh? There's no one behind you! You just spooked me." Getting closer, she looked over the pair, before grinning, grabbing the puppet by one of her arms. Stars starting to shine in her eyes, she glowed, beginning, "Anyway, what's your name? What are you doing in the quiet part of town?" As she asked, she thought she heard some rambunctious echoes from closer to the sea somewhere else in town. Probably nothing.

Excitement getting the best of her, Claribel's stomach let out a rumble. Claribel puckered her lips, before turning around, moving to pull her along. "Let's get some food!"

“Haaah… haaah…”

Lucretia staggered towards the shop, out of breath. She stopped by a wall, watching the new gangsters file into the shop.

“Oh… oh, dear. There really are a lot of them,” she mumbled to herself. “Perhaps this wasn’t such a--”

She stopped. That ninja… was he the one on the flying boat? He had to have been, it certainly wasn’t one of those thugs there… Well, that put a wrench in her plans. How was she supposed to recruit him into her Very Own Pirate Crew if he was busy beating up some dirty street gang? There was only one solution she could see here--

Her train of thought was more or less interrupted by the massive explosions. She balked. This mysterious figure… he had some kind of special power as well! That settled things. If she wanted to get him on her crew, then she would definitely have to--

Lucretia’s scheming was once again interrupted - this time, by some kind of ‘rocket-powered man’ attacking the ninja from within the shop! Perhaps he was the one on the boat all along? Lucretia shook her head dismissively. Her first day as a pirate was already far more chaotic than she ever expected. But, of course, that only meant it was time to restore order -- didn’t it?

She scowled. As far as special powers go, she really did get the short end of the stick - why couldn’t she turn into something nice, like a cat or a giraffe? Oh well. She focused, growing taller and - well, greener. By the end of it, she stood nearly eight feet tall, with weird bug eyes, a set of antennae, and two inordinately sharp, blade-like claws jutting out from her arms. Without further ado, Lucretia rushed towards Zehst and Tenmon, bowling over any gangsters that happened to be in her way.

“Both of you boys - whatever you’re fighting about,” she yelled, “Stop it right now! I’ve got a business proposition for the two of you!”

As Tenmon prepared himself to cleave through the many gangsters ahead of him, he was interrupted by the shouts of another.

"Ninja Arts: Sweepi—"

"What weapon did you use just now!? Who designed it!?"

It was the rocketeer again, but he was... charging? At him? Tenmon knew it: he did step on somebody that wasn't a goon! The young ninja tapped his palm with a fist as he made the realization. At that moment, another non-goon arrived. It was a... giant mantis? A talking giant mantis? Were those native to Loguetown? Were they native to the East Blue even? A series of questions rushed through Tenmon's mind to the point where he barely processed what the mantis-woman was saying - something about fighting? He didn't have time to talk about fighting; he was fighting!

"Hang on talking mantis, I have to defeat these gangst—BLEUGH!"

Amidst the commotion of gangsters and giant insects, Tenmon had forgotten that he needed to dodge the attack from the rocketeer. The elbow thrust struck Tenmon in the face, sending him spiralling into the air — seriously, he must've spun like, 10 times during that 2-second airtime. It was fine though, Tenmon could easily stabilize his landing; he was a ninja after all. Well, he would've easily stabilized his landing if he wasn't being knocked straight into Nose Ring's gangsters. Sure enough, the young ninja barrelled straight into the thugs, inciting yet another explosion to take place as he collided with them head-on. Colour was removed from the area yet again as both light and smoke bellowed from the site of impact, obscuring both Tenmon and the gangsters he had been shot into.

The smoke began to dissipate, revealing a pile of knocked-out gangsters and Tenmon, who was laying atop the pile - still conscious. He sat up almost immediately, justifiably angry that he was just attacked by the same guy he gave directions to.

"Hey, Rocket Man! Why are you attacking me for!?" Tenmon shouted, hopping off of the pile of gangsters as he did so.