Wafer D. Kite - Taking Over the King Crab!
Wafer D. Kite had all but given up hope. He How long had he been on this ship? The young man sitting in the cell in the brig of the King Crab had felt lost for so long. He'd lost his friends, whom he'd loved as he loved his family back home. It felt wrong to be alive, but he knew he could never face them if he died without a fight. And yet, after 4 failed escape attempted he was bereft of the hope that he'd be able to free himself. He thought that maybe, just maybe, if he could get out and take revenge on the man who'd taken his family he could at least move on. He'd never even made it past the bottom level of the ship though. Much of the crew was little more than cannon fodder. But then, the Shrimp Brigade. Either team was skilled enough to subdue and force him back into his cage.
He'd cursed his weakness day in and day out. Gone were the friends he believed he would one day travel through the depths of hell and back with. There time together had been short, but it meant everything to him. Before him was a wall far too insurmountable for a lone pirate such as himself. His career had only just begun and it was already over. At least that's what he thought.
"Attention crew of the Rum Runner!"Kite's ears perked up at the sound of the announcement made by the captain of the ship he was imprisoned on. He sighed. And so it began again. A battle where life or death didn't matter. The pirates would want to win to keep themselves free and their ship in tact. Krabbe only cared about the bounty, building his notoriety. He didn't care otherwise whether they lived or died unless the bounty stated they must be brought in alive.
"This is John Krabbe, the famous bounty hunter known far as wide as 'The Vice.' You will surrender yourselves to my custody now, or I will press you into oblivion with the might of my ship, the King Crab!" Memories crashed into his mind like a wave along the coast of an undisturbed beach at high tide. He remember Krabbe's warning, followed almost immediately by the deployment of the Shrimp Brigade. Merciless was a word that could be used to describe the man. Although Kite had a number of other words he'd make better use of in regards to the over-sized crustacean.
"You have 2 minutes to raise the white flag, or I will sink your vessel." "Bullshit." Kite growled, prompting a kick to the bars of his cell, the guard on duty uttering a stern "Shut up." The following, mistaken, announcement was about right in Kite's mind as he remembered the day. It looked like he was likely to be receiving a new cellmate or two. He assumed it would be a quick battle, but soon felt the rocking of the ship. Roots began to sprout throughout the lower level. There was commotion above and to his surprise, he was left alone. All hands on deck it seemed. Whoever they were, the pirates Krabbe had set his sights on were more formidable than he'd expected.
And yet, here he was. Kite grit his teeth, clenching his fists. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. The faces of his friends flashed in his mind.
"Booth, Walsh, Ina, Vada, Ransley..." He took a breath, forcing himself to his feet. He still felt pain all over. He'd hadn't exactly been fed much during his imprisonment, and they weren't gentle in subduing him.
"I won't let you guys down." He spoke before the ship rocked again. He fell back, but it seemed luck was on his side. His things which had always been just out of reach toppled over. One of his wrenches slid down toward the cell. He couldn't help but smile. It felt like a sign, some message from his friends that moving forward was not wrong.
The young man scrambled, rushing to the bars. He stuck his arm through.
"Come on... Come ooon." He groaned, stretching as far as he could until finally he could wrap his fingers around the base of the wrench just above the ring end.
"Yes!" He was so happy he could cry. But the time for tears was gone. Now was the time to fight. He turned the wrench pulling it in through the bars and felt the metal on his flesh. It felt almost nostalgic.
"Here's goes nothing." He said as he swallowed and positioned himself before the bars and swung his wrench. There was a loud slam, though it would likely be drowned out by the commotion above.
"Again!" He shouted swinging once more, almost narrating his attempts, trying to pump himself up. He did this over and over until the bars began to shift, coming out of place, likely due to damage done to the ship throughout the ensuing battle. And just like that, the bars fell forward with one powerful final swing. He finally had the opportunity to kick a little ass.
It took Kite, but a moment to gather his equipment. In truth, even fully clothed he felt naked without his wrenches, his gloves, the various tools he usually had on him. One wrench hung from his back, the other in his hand, firmly gripped at the ring in his left hand, resting on his shoulder as he walked. His free hand reached down into the pouch strapped to his right leg, pulling out a cigarette. He rested it on his lips and reached back to pull out a custom black lighter, brandished with the jolly roger his crew had used up til just recently. He flipped the top and lit it, bringing the flame to his cigarette. He took a drag, the cigarette only leaving his lips after the lighter was returned safely to it's place and he could move it with his gloved hand. He blew the smoke out, a satisfied
"Aah~" escaping. It'd been so long since he had a smoke.
He was beginning to feel it again. That familiar feeling reserved for a battle with his friends, though he was alone now.
"Let's have at it you guys." He spoke softly, uttering to himself as he began his ascent to the deck. The cigarette was near its end as he emerged. Kite noticed two women fighting the captain, just as one attempted to jump into the air. He was eager to see how that turned out, but before him was a miniature flood of crewmen. He chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette. He blew another small stream of smoke out. his heavy footsteps, casual attitude and the sound of the metal jingling in his pockets and tool pouches were enough to garner attention though only if you weren't completely invest in the battle.
"Hey! What ar..." A crewman began to speak, hearing Kite approach, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by the swing of a wrench. The cold metal collided with his face, sending him flying back into the crowd of men. For kite, this was payback time. Nothing more, nothing less. But, even if he couldn't take down Krabbe himself, he'd be satisfied knowing the guy'd been cut down a peg.
"Friend or Foe?" He questioned himself as he lifted his leg kicking another crewman back as just as he began to charge. His eyes lingered on the battle between the bounty hunter and the two women even as he spun to avoid an attack and slammed the side of the wrench into the waist of yet another adversary.
"Guess it doesn't matter long as that bastard goes down and I get the fuck out of here." His lips curled into a smirk and without another word he began to focus on the men before him. Soon, they began to slam to the ground and fly into the air, all trying helplessly to face off against the young man who'd built up weeks of anger and could potentially face off against their captain in a one on one were he in top condition. Regardless, Kite would have to settle for releasing his frustrations on the cannon fodder, as he saw them, and leave the rest to his unknown (likely unintentional) saviors.
