Daxam

Daxam's Awesome Interest Check of Epicosity (updated as ideas change/form; ignore post count)

Sneezes

Good lord, this thing's dusty. Anyway, after seven-ish years, here's a new bump with some new edits to go with it!

Young Justice

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It was late afternoon, passing into evening and Vincent was in his room. Iron masses and clouds of carbon hung in the air above him, combining and separating or forming complex patterns as he thought about what to make. Images of hot dogs, pizza, and baked potatoes, among other things, appeared and disappeared before an idea that he liked finally came to mind. ”I could go for some curry,” he mused as he sat up. The carbon and iron recombined and returned to his implant as he stood and left his room to walk to the kitchen.

There was already a pot of something bubbling away on the stove. There were bowls of pre-cut vegetables neatly set in rows next to it. A heap of shredded chicken sat lonely on a plate, clearly intended to be added to the boiling broth. It was starting to get dry at this point. If you would lift up the lid you would find that the broth had nearly reduced to half the original amount.

The sleep deprived chef of the well intended chicken soup was hauled up on the sofa in the lounge. Daphne fell asleep with the cook book folded open on the floor next to her. Judging from the state of the kitchen she’d been asleep for at least an hour.

Vincent’s brow furrowed at the state of the kitchen, his kitchen, and was about ready to find whoever left it in such a state to tear into them until he saw Daphne asleep on the couch with a cookbook next to her. He felt his anger fade, replaced by mild irritation, and let out a sigh. First thing he did was turn the stove off, then he walked over to his teammate. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he gently shook her as he said, ”Hey, Daph, wake up. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you were planning on serving dry chicken.”

Daphne startled awake bumping headfirst into Vincent’s forehead.

”Bah!” Vincent exclaimed at the sudden headbutt, more out of surprise than pain.

“Owh..”
She was pretty sure that was going to turn into a bump. Her finger touched the sore spot. Looking up to see Vincent she immediately went into apology mode.
“Sorry Vincent, I must have…..fallen asleep”
“Again….”

“Is your head okay?”
Her soup!

Without waiting for an answer she jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen. When she took off the lid from the pot she was disappointed to see nearly half of her stock had evaporated.
“This is fixable right? I’ll just add more water.” Daphne mumbled to herself.

Rubbing his forehead, Vincent followed Daphne into the kitchen. ”Yeah, that should be fine,” he said. ”It doesn’t look like you left it alone for too long, so it should still be salvageable. That chicken, too, so long as it hasn’t been more than a couple hours.”

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the counter as he watched Daphne for a few moments, then asked, ”I never pegged you as the kinda girl to take a nap in the middle of meal prep. Everything okay?”

Daphne added water to the pot until it was back to being two thirds of the way full of soup. She added the veggies and chicken, stirring the ingredients gently so they could spread out. Vincent saying it would be fine gave her more confidence. He was a talented cook and could also bake pretty well.

She stopped stirring the pot to look at Vincent, letting the spoon rest across the top of the pan.
“Yes I’m okay. I’ve just been having trouble sleeping this past week or so.”

Eager to change the subject to something less uncomfortable Daphne retrieved the cookbook from the lounge. She showed it to Vincent.
“I’ve tried a bunch of things from in here, some of them came out really good, others not so much”

Vincent couldn’t help but get the feeling that Daphne was hiding something, but he decided not to pursue it. He was still relatively new to the team, so he knew better than to expect people to be willing to open up to him, at least not so soon. Even he wasn’t as much of an open book as some might think.

Daphne started to clean up the counter to make space for Vincent.

“Or maybe that’s more me than the book…” She said with a chuckle.

Vincent walked over to the counter and set the cookbook down on the space Daphne cleared. He flipped through a few pages, noting the various marks, dogears, and annotations Daphne had made throughout. ”Nah, I don’t think you’re the problem,” he said. ”Even cookbooks aren’t perfect. Some recipes might call for an extra pinch of salt here, an unneeded splash of soy sauce there. That’s why I don’t use them.”

Daphne let that bit of cooking wisdom sink in. She added the tiniest pinch of salt. The soup was starting to come back to a boil. She lowered the heat so it could simmer.
“So…how did you get into cooking?”

Vincent was quiet for a moment as he cast his eyes upward in thought. After a few moments, he said, ”It was after I got to Bludhaven. The guy who took me under his wing told me I couldn’t mug people for money, anymore, actually told me I wasn’t allowed to fight on the streets at all, unless I couldn’t avoid it. He found me some work in a restaurant as a busboy and I did well enough that the manager let me work in the kitchens. At first, it was just a way to make some money and keep the Old Man off my back, but after a while, I fell in love with cooking.”

With his happy go lucky attitude it was easy to forget that Vincent’s past was rough. Daphne thought back on their picnic a while ago. There was probably so much more she didn’t know. She contemplated on asking him more about his past, the fighting, the old man.

“Who’s the old man? I think I remember you mentioning him before. He sounds like an important person in your life.”

Vincent had been stirring the soup, only to falter for a moment when Daphne asked her question. For the first time since they started talking, he seemed to hesitate, but quickly gathered himself. He resumed stirring as he said, ”He was. I never learned his actual name. Every time I asked him about himself, he’d make me go train or flat out ignore me, but he was the guy who made me into what I am today. He taught me how to fight, gave me tips on controlling my power.” He pulled the spoon out of the soup, then chuckled as he tapped it on the rim of the pot. ”If not for him, I’d probably be dead a hundred times over.”

Daphne flinched inwardly when she noticed Vincent’s subtle reaction to her question. Her heart sank when Vincent told her the man wasn’t alive anymore. She gave him a hug, standing on her tippy toes.
”Sorry….I don’t actually know how to react.”

He really didn’t deserve any of the bad things that had happened to him. It made her sad to know that he had to go through all that.

Vincent looked down, surprised at the sudden hug. In all honesty, he couldn’t remember the last time he was hugged. Usually, any time he had any physical contact with someone, save for that time he flew with Pei, it was during a fight, so he wasn’t entirely sure how to react, either. After a moment, he smiled and gave Daphne’s back a couple of pats and said, ”There’s, uh…nothing to apologize for. I appreciate it, though.”

Clearing his throat, he turned back toward the soup. ”So, uh, anyway, I think this is coming along pretty nicely,” he said. ”Wanna give it a taste?”

”Yes let’s!

Nomadic Odyssey: Find Your Heart

Sean Callaghan

”Ar Aghaidh agus Suas!(Onward and Upward!)”

”Let’s have some fun, shall we?” _____________________________________________________ NAME: Sean Callaghan _______________________________________________ EPITHET: Archmage _______________________________________________ AGE: 23 _______________________________________________ PRONOUNS: He/Him _______________________________________________ HEIGHT: 6’2” _______________________________________________ WEIGHT: 178lbs _______________________________________________ NATIONALITY: Irish _______________________________________________ LIKES: People, studying, experimenting with gravity, taking his time. DOGS. _______________________________________________ DISLIKES: Hurried/impatient/arrogant people, cruelty, cooking.

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OVERVIEW

"So, ya wanna know ‘bout me? Well, gather ‘round, mo chairde!"
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APPEARANCE

"Quite a handsome diabhal, aren’t I?"
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Sean’s everyday wear consists of a white button-down shirt, with or without a light brown vest, and tan slacks, complete with black dress shoes, usually with a flowing cloak or robe draped over his shoulders. When he knows he’s going into a fight, he’ll trade these clothes out for a simple t-shirt, jeans, and street shoes, the only constant being the cloak.

”If I’m goin’ for that ‘archmage’ look, I have to look the part, don’t I?”

He has a tall, lightly toned build on the thinner side, which one might consider unassuming or nonthreatening, especially with that easy, ever-present smile of his. His emerald green eyes shine behind square, wire-framed glasses, glittering as if he were constantly thinking of something amusing, and he has a fiery mane of red hair in loose curls that reaches down to just past his ears. His skin is on the fairer side with a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheekbones.

PERSONALITY TRAITS

"I like to think I’m pretty easy to get along with."
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Extroverted:Despite how easily he can enjoy quiet moments alone, Sean is a people person. He enjoys meeting and talking to new people and old friends. That said, he has a tendency to get a little too chummy with people, but all it usually takes is a stern word to get him to back off.

Creative: Sean’s creativity is probably one of his greatest weapons. This creativity allows him to use his magic in ways that not many people might think of, making him a highly unpredictable opponent.

Easy-Going: Not much gets under Sean’s skin and he tends to have a more laid-back approach to life. A very ‘what will be, will be’ kind of guy, it’s rare to see him irritated, much less angry. Should his patience wear out, however, the atmosphere would suddenly feel much heavier in as literal of a sense as possible.

BACKSTORY

”Ah, the who’s and why’s!”
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Sean Callaghan was born on Christmas Day, December 25th, in the town of Kinsale, Ireland. His parents are Erin and Liam Callaghan, the latter of whom was a professor of astrophysics. The little family had lived comfortably, thanks to Liam’s position as a well-respected professor at a nearby university. It was from a young age that Sean had started to realize that he was somehow different from other kids his age, but it wouldn’t be until years later that he would come to understand what this difference was.

He spent his primary and secondary school days in Kinsale, but after graduating, he managed to convince his parents to let him travel the country on his own, having developed an incredible wanderlust. He spent the next year traveling from town to city to village, his amiable personality making it easy for him to make friends wherever he went, many of whom he still kept in contact with. But even as he traveled and met all these people there was still something that felt off to him, an inexplicable urge that he couldn’t quite put to words. At least, he wouldn’t be able to until one fateful day.

He was in Dublin and had been walking back to his hotel room when he heard shouting from a nearby alleyway. His curiosity winning out, he walked into the alley to investigate when he came across the sight that would irreversibly change the course of his life. A woman stood in the alleyway, facing away from Sean, completely focused on the three men in front of her. Two more laid on the ground by her feet, groaning in a barely-conscious stupor. She was tall, only an inch or two shorter than Sean, with short, deep red hair. She wore cargo pants and a tank top, showing arms that were well-muscled and heavily scarred, which told Sean that she spent much of her time in fights just like this one.

The three men all charged at once and Sean felt his eyes widen as he watched the woman react. She was a whirlwind of violence, moving fast enough that Sean had trouble keeping up with her. It was as if he blinked and the three assailants were knocked out. The woman then turned to him, her fists raised and deep blue eyes flashing dangerously, as if she thought he was backup. Sean was about to reassure her he was just passing by when he saw one of the thugs behind her stand up. Something flashed in his hand as he charged and Sean reacted instinctively. He threw his hand out and violet energy sparked around his arm. The man suddenly fell to the ground, the pavement cracking around his body as Sean’s control over gravity suddenly awakened.

After that, and a not-insubstantial amount of pleading from a man who suddenly decided he wanted to be a fighter, the woman, Siobhán, became Sean’s mentor. While his ability to control ki beyond reinforcing his body and sensing others left much to be desired, his grasp of his newly awakened magical abilities was almost a natural gift. He trained for the next three years with Siobhán, who taught him boxing and the art of bataireacht, and her wife, Maeve, who helped him hone his magical skills before he began to wander again, this time at the behest of his teachers, who wanted him to seek out stronger opponents to further improve himself. And when news started to spread about a tournament? He had to jump at the chance.

FIGHTING STYLE & ABILITIES

”Ever wonder what it feels like to stand on Jupiter? I can show ya!”
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SKILLS & ABILITIES

”Athair always told me gravity was the weakest force. I don’t see it.”
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Martial Skills: Sean has a basic grasp of ki manipulation, only so far as being able to reinforce his own body to handle the stresses of how he uses his magic. Outside of that, he’s skilled in boxing and bataireacht, a form of stick-fighting utilizing a shillelagh, which he also uses as a focus for his magic.

Magic Skills: Sean’s true area of expertise is magic. The particular field of magic he considers his domain is gravity manipulation, wherein he can control the force of gravity exerted on himself and others within his ten-foot range. Though he had only been practicing with his magic for a few years, he already has almost a master-level grasp of it.

SIGNATURE MOVES

”Light as a feather or heavy as lead, I can do it all!”
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■ Fall / Titim

Sean alters the force of gravity on himself to allow for movement through the air. Rather than true flight, he increases, decreases, and shifts gravitational pull to change the direction and speed he falls in.

■ Radial Push / Brúigh Gathacha

Sean inverts gravity around him to repel projectiles and melee attackers. Purely a defensive ability, Sean has to focus to keep the inverted field activated. In addition, attacks that come in too fast or abilities that are light-based, since light is unaffected by gravity, can push through the inverted field and still make contact. Due to the amount of focus needed, the radius of this field is only a third of his usual range.

■ Trajectory Alteration / Athrú Uillinne

Sean’s most reliable countermeasure against non-light-based projectiles, he creates points of powerful gravitational force in the air or around himself, causing the approaching projectile to veer off course. By adjusting the strength and duration of these points, Sean can also cause projectiles to fly back at the attacker.

■ Heavy Strike / Stailc Throm

By reinforcing his body or shillelagh and increasing the force of gravity, Sean can increase the weight of his attacks, letting him hit much harder than he would be able to, otherwise. Ki reinforcement is a necessity, otherwise his shillelagh or even his bones could shatter.

■ Gyrokinesis / Giocrainéis

Sean uses gravitational fields to carry objects (such as debris from battle) in the air around him. These fields let him manipulate the objects freely, using them either defensively by absorbing attacks or as an offensive long-distance attack by throwing them.

■ “Super Strength” / "Neart Feabhsaithe"

By decreasing the effect of gravity on an object, Sean can lift and throw objects that are usually prohibitively heavy, giving himself a sort of simulated enhanced strength. He likes to use this, as well as Heavy Strike, to keep his opponent guessing about what his true ability is.

SUPER MOVES

”You want my best shot? Fine. Hope you don’t regret it.”
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■ God’s Hammer / Casúr Dé

Sean creates an area of extreme gravity and slams it down on his opponent(s), immobilizing or outright crushing them while also cratering the ground underneath. For Sean to be able to use it at full power, he would need to focus on it completely, which would leave him vulnerable to attack. He can charge it passively, freeing him up to defend himself and use weaker versions of his other abilities, but doing it this way takes him much longer to charge and it isn’t as potent. In addition, when charging and activating God’s Hammer, violet energy marks the affected area beforehand.

■ God’s Spear / Sliocht Dé

Sean narrows his focus to a straight line, increasing his range by a wide margin, then fires a projectile of concentrated gravity outward. The projectile, itself, is invisible, but the violet energy that envelopes it is enough to give an idea of where it is. The projectile also has enough power to shatter most materials. If it hits something or travels the full distance without hitting anything, the projectile will disappear, launching whatever it picked up outward in a wide area like a shotgun blast. By adjusting the strength or speed of the projectile, Sean can also cause it to dissolve early. Like with God’s Hammer, the Spear can be charged passively, letting Sean defend himself in exchange for reduced potency.

WEAKNESSES & LIMITS

”What? Not everyone’s perfect.”
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The stronger an ability, the more focus it takes for Sean to use it. Abilities such as Freefall or “Super Strength” require very little focus or none at all, making them the most effective weapons in Sean’s toolbox. Conversely, God’s Spear and Radial Push, for example, require quite a bit more, meaning that if Sean were to mistime these abilities, he would be left vulnerable to a counterattack.

Beam attacks are also a big weakness of his. Beams have properties similar to light, which is largely unaffected by gravity, except for in the most extreme cases.

OTHER

”My turn to cook? Sure, just call the hospital and tell them to ready the stomach pump. Trust me.”
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Sometimes, he’ll call his abilities by their Irish translation.

He’s an awful cook and likes to joke about the time he burned water. People (read: victims) who have tried his food find it very likely he’s telling the truth.

His weapon of choice is a five-foot blackthorn shillelagh, which he also uses as a focus for his magic. Combined with the fact that he likes to dress in robes or cloaks, it’s little wonder how his epithet came to be.

Nomadic Odyssey: Find Your Heart

Yep, just joined up lol

Nomadic Odyssey: Find Your Heart

<Snipped quote by Daxam>

We’re looking for the coolest of the cool.

@Punished GN

Oh, okay, I'll see myself out, then.

I'll have a CS up soon as possible lol

Nomadic Odyssey: Find Your Heart

Hey, you guys still looking for people?

Young Justice

Vincent and Pei

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Vincent’s bare fists slammed against the punching bag, each punch fueled by his anger. At first, his mind focused on the debriefing, how almost everyone was so ready to, the way he saw it, punish KJ for something he didn’t do. In hindsight, however much he didn’t want to admit it, he knew they were right. It would be best if he didn’t join them on any missions, at least until he could get…whatever that was under control. But that wasn’t why he was pissed.

He knew why he was angry. The real reason. He was furious with himself. Furious at letting himself end up in the position he did, furious at the way his ribs screamed at him with every breath. He was angry that he had let himself be weak, again, like he was when his parents were killed or when he didn’t stand up to himself when his cousins were being cruel, or when–

He grit his teeth and let out a roar as he slammed his fist into the punching bag with all he had. He felt his knuckles split open as the bag bounced on its chain, but other than the warm blood that seeped from his knuckles, he hardly felt it. He stood there, breathing heavily as he glared at his shaking hand, irritated that he couldn’t tell if it was shaking from anger, pain, or something else.

Pei peeked around the corner of the gym. When he wasn’t in the training area or the infirmary, she guessed he might be in the gym. He didn’t seem to be the type to lock himself in his room. Compressing her lips, she saw the emotional state he was in. Screaming and punching himself bloody. Not great signs. A far cry from the happy-go-lucky guy she first chatted too about fighting Nightwing. It was a little scary. She stepped back, took a deep breath to compose herself, and then stepped into the gym.

She walked slowly, meanderingly, taking steps to the side. Slow, unsteady progress towards him. ”Hey, buddy. How, uh, how ya holdin’ up?” She asked.

Hearing Pei’s voice, Vincent looked up from his hand. Pulled from his thoughts, his body reminded him that he was injured and he winced. Unsure of whether to rub his knuckles or his ribs, he settled for both, rubbing his ribs with his injured hand while he placed his other hand on top. ”Peachy,” he grumbled. He was quiet for a few moments after that, then asked, ”Did you guys decide what to do?”

Locking and unlocking her fingers, Pei grimaced. ”Well, yeah. We gotta bench him, Vincent.” She said quietly. ”Are you mad?”

A long sigh, then Vincent spoke. ”No. No, not about that. It sucks, but I understand why we have to. I just hope he understands, too.”

He walked over to one of the benches against the wall and slowly sat down with a groan. ”Damn ribs,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. To Pei, he added, ”Sorry I blew up like that. I’ve never had the greatest handle on my temper and I’ve got shit on my mind, so…yeah.”

Pei brightened. Vincent had given her an opening. She planned on taking it. She plopped herself down next to him, swinging her legs a little. Reaching into a zipped bag in a belt around her waist, a fanny bag if you will, she produced a first aid kit.

”So, you’re not mad about that. But if I had to hazard a guess, you’re definitely mad about something. That shit on your mind; Could I take a look?” She asked, absent-mindedly fiddling with some soap to clean Vincent’s cut knuckles.

”Gonna have to take a look at that, too.” She murmured so quietly Vincent could barely hear her.

Then she spoke up again. ”My dad says: Words have weight. You gotta say the words you’re thinking, otherwise your head’ll get too heavy and you’ll fall over. Something like that, anyway. Kind of like a bunch of people were doing out there in that AAR. Just hopefully less scary this time.” She said with a little smile.

Vincent looked at the soap in Pei’s hand, then down at his own hand before he held it out to her. ”Go nuts,” he said with a shrug. A moment later, he added, ”Thanks, I mean.”

”Oh, uh. Okay. We’d have to get it washed and stuff, too.” She muttered, wrapping his hand with some Justice League supplied bandages. ”If nothing else it’ll stop all the dripping.”

After that, he was quiet for a little while. On the one hand, he hardly knew Pei and he wasn’t sure about baring his soul to someone who was essentially a stranger. Though, on the other hand, after their first one-on-one talk, he could consider her the first friend he made since he had joined the team. He sighed quietly, then said, ”I hate feeling weak. If I have to die, I don’t mind it so long as I’m on my feet and I can do something about it. But when I was pinned on my back, underneath whatever Kila had become…I was as helpless as I was the night my parents died…”

Pei bit her lip. She set her hand on Vincent’s shoulder and stared into the middle distance, trying to choose her next words carefully. Both the AAR and her conversation with Kila after the bank had been playing on loop in her memory. Clearly, if she was capable of choosing the right words, she hadn’t done it yet. Her heart rattled against the bars of her ribcage. Do something right for once! It can’t be that hard, right?

”Uhh…hey. I’m sorry that happened.” Pei said. Still not really sure what else to say to someone’s trauma. But she still felt like she had something to offer. ”But no way you’re weak. I don’t really buy that. Losing doesn’t make you weak, y’know. When you’re a superhero, you’re taking hits for people who can’t take them for themselves. That means you’re gonna fall over sometimes.” Pei said.

”Maybe even a lot times.” She added.

”I get what you’re saying and I appreciate it,” Vincent replied, ”but it’s not just the fact that I lost that’s getting to me, it’s the way I lost.”

He sighed and looked at his hand. ”The Old Man got me as far as he could, he quietly said. ”I wouldn’t be who I am without him and what he did for me…but it’s not enough, not anymore.” His fingers curled and he clenched his fist. ”I need to talk to Nightwing. If anyone can help me get stronger, it’s gotta be the bat’s first sidekick.”

”I mean, go for it. By all means.” Pei said. ”Nothing wrong with, y’know, training montages. Running up and down mountains, doing handstands on wooden poles at the top of a mountain. Carrying water in two pots up a mountain. Lots of mountains. Maybe if you found a training mountain- y’know we live on a mountain now.” At that last revelation Pei gasped and smacked Vincent’s shoulder with the back of her hand.

”Still might lose, though. In embarrassing ways. Like running into a burning building, bonking your head on one of those pull-up bars some people put in their door frames, not realizing it dislodged your mask and then passing out on the stairs. Just uh, y’know, as a hypothetical example.” Pei said.

Vincent looked at Pei for a few long moments before he finally burst out into laughter. ”Can you…can you imagine? I go flying into a fight, like at the docks, ready to fight, and get taken out by a fucking crane?”

Pei grinned wide, doing an exaggerated shrug. ”I dunno! It could be dark!” She laughed.

He probably laughed more than he should have, but given how he had been feeling since the previous night, he didn’t care. He felt himself relax and the anger he had been feeling all morning fade, not completely, but enough to not be so intrusive at the moment. He wiped his eyes, gave Pei a pat on the back, and said, ”Thanks, Pei. I needed that.”

Pei was over the moon. ”Always happy to do a help. To help.” She said.

”Think you might be done with boxing practice for the day, or..?” Pei asked.

”Yeah, I think so,” Vincent said as he looked down at his bandaged hand and added, ”I gotta go get this treated and figure out lunch for everyone. Might cobble together a pizza or something. Other than that, thanks for coming to check on me, Pei. I appreciate it.”

Pei stood up and saluted. ”What are friends for, right? Good luck with the treatment. And the cobbled pizza.” Pei said. ”I’m gonna head on out.”

Rounding the corner and out of Vincent’s sight, Pei pumped her fists. ”Yesss!” She raised them victoriously. ”Iceburn!”

JRPG-inspired magic school RP with a heavy focus on story and characters!

Hey, I know you've got a bunch already interested, but is there room for one more? This kinda thing really seems right up my alley.

I'll be able to get a CS written up after work tomorrow!

Operation Eclipse

Hey, if there's still room in this, I'd like to throw my hat into the ring. Seems like it could be pretty fun!

One Piece: The Devil's Due (Always Accepting!)

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It was early morning when the island came into view. Like the briefing said, it was a small island, the most dominant features being the large forest that gave it its name, as well as the tall lighthouse that dominated the center of the island. The light was out, though whether that was the work of the pirates or simply because the sun had started to rise, Sol wasn’t sure.

“The island was deserted when we claimed it,” Lieutenant Nelson said. She and Sol stood at the bow of the ship and watched the island, silhouetted by the early morning fog, as they approached. “It became a small observation post, manned by a handful of Marines and their families. Their job is to report on the comings and goings of all sorts of vessels, civilian and pirate alike. If need be, the lighthouse is fitted with cannons on each level, all the way around, so they could fire on threats from all sides.”

”According to the report, the pirates made their approach early yesterday morning, when the fog was at its thickest, just like we are,” Sol said. ”It explains how they were able to sneak up on them, given that our men would have a full 360 degree view from that lighthouse. I just hope we aren’t too late.”

Suddenly, his ear twitched as a low rumbling reached him just before something splashed into the sea to their portside. “Cannon fire!” a crewman yelled.

”Evasive action!” Sol yelled as he stepped closer to the railing. He glanced at the rising sun behind them, getting his bearings, and added, ”It’ll be hard for them to get a bead on us with this fog, but stay sharp,” he told Nelson. ”You’re in charge. I’ll go on ahead and try to draw their fire. Tell the helmsman to keep heading due west and you should find the port pretty easily.”

Before Nelson could argue, Sol kicked off of the air and, using “moonwalk,” he quickly ascended above the fog. He drew his sword, the very same one that the young man from the day before dueled him for, and felt the weight in his hand. It wasn’t a heavy sword by any means, but it never felt right for him to wield it. The rapport of a cannon rolled along the sea, drawing his attention back to his job. He kicked off of the air and shot forward as a cannonball hurtled toward him. With ease, he swung his weapon and cut cleanly through the cannonball.

Sol passed between the two halves and continued his approach on the island as more cannons roared to life. Each cannonball met the same fate as the one before it, cut cleanly in half while Sol practically waltzed through the cannonfire. On one hand, he was protecting himself, but his own ship and crew were never far from his mind, often going out of his way to cut through a cannonball that may have hit his ship, otherwise. Before long, when Sol had reached the halfway point between his ship and the island, he let out a breath. ”Shave,” he said.

One moment he was there, but the next, he was gone, a soft boom left behind in his wake. As the defenders in the lighthouse peered through their viewports, trying to see where he went, Sol moved with incredible speed toward the lighthouse, combining his moonwalk with the speed of his “shave” ability. Combining the two techniques made his legs cry out in protest, but Sol ignored it for the few seconds it took him to reach the lighthouse. ”Symphonic Blade: Prestissimo!”

He lashed out with his sword, slicing through the stone wall of the lighthouse as easily as if it were paper just as he crashed through. The pirates on the other side cried out in surprise, suddenly face-to-face with a Marine captain. Sol slowly scanned the pirates gathered around him, noting the shock and fear on their faces. ”My name is Captain Maxwell Rackham. Take me to the one who commands you and I promise we’ll be lenient,” he warned.

Those words seemed to shock some sense back into the pirates, many of whom reached for their weapons, though the look of fear never left their faces. Interesting. They’re more afraid of their own captain than they are of me, he thought as he readied himself. I’ll find out why soon enough, I suppose.