high_seas | All fun and games

[Exploring Nuevo Empieza!

The Navy will immediately know the moment the crew reaches shore, so within three or four hours, they'll have a half dozen ships geared. Halfway through the day, those ships will close in on the island. Towards the early afternoon, the soldiers will start hunting down the Spade Pirates.]

[Late evening, after the ambush. The remaining Spade Pirates are called back to the ship by Ace, bloodied and bruised. In his left hand, he's carrying a set of shackles for hands and one's own neck. Around his neck, there's a bloody and bruised impression from where he had been wearing it.

He doesn't say a thing, other than slamming a map down on the deck, drawing a flintlock pistol from his belt. Wordlessly, he shoots the map at a certain location and then discards the pistol.

Right after, he drops the Striker off of the deck and jumps into it, taking off on it. The map is partially of Nuevo Empieza, with another smaller island a few miles away. That second island, the one Ace shot, is simply labeled 'Base'.]

[The Navy Base.

With their prisoners in tow, the Navy sailors take no small effort in dragging their quarry around as roughly as possible. Pirates other than the Spades are gathered as well, being lashed in the middle of the square and thrown back in their cells after their names have formally been called.

Everyone is told that early the next morning, each and every pirate captured will be hung by the neck until death--as formally as that may sound.]

[The sun rises like any other day and...

The entire Navy Base is up in arms, because one of the front-runner galleons owned by the base's Admiral is now up in flames.

Executions are still being drawn out and scheduled, though. Nothing is going to stop the Navy from attempting its gruesome task.

Though, a young man spotted with blood strolls through the crowd of Navy soldiers, walking opposite of their direction--towards the gallows. While other men sought to put it out, he walked right past it, fixing his fancy upturned hat and feather, regarding the gallows with disdain.]

All right, listen up punks!

[Directs and points which way to go.] Left flank, right flank, straight ahead. We'll try to send them scattering, don't separate from your divisions, got it?

[Feel free to completely ignore these directions, most of the Whitebeard pirates always did and Ace was the worst of them about it.]

Ace...

[He moves to inspect the Captain's neck, but then Ace is getting ready to take off again already.]

Oi...

*Executions still scheduled, and here comes the next one. She is dragged along, because there's no energy in her left to walk on her own. This girl, one of her eyes is red and completely swollen shut. On her arms are bruises that suggest she's been grabbed roughly. There are deep scratches on her inner thigh, one of which is bleeding. With each inch she's pulled along by her bound wrists, the figure groans out loud at a hidden pain - that would be her broken ribs. She shows no sign of being able to walk for herself, let alone fight for herself. Seems she's set for the gallows*

Hmph. [Ace stood in the middle of the gangway, sizing up his dagger and axe, wondering if he had time to sharpen them.]

They picked a weird place for an ambush. With those wide streets, we'll see them coming from a hundred different places.

[Off on the island, one of the buildings lost its structural integrity, bathed in flames. It collapsed, sending up plumes of fire, smoke and dust.]

The Sun's yours until I get back, Marco. [His heels touched down on the deck of the Striker and unlike more times, his flames weren't a mellow orange. They were light, burning nearly white and blue.

Ace didn't think he had to say anything else.]

[The procession of pirates towards the walkway and steps to the gallows had been somber. A steady line of men and women made their way up, while another line of navy soldiers had been sprinting with buckets to put out the flames on their current flagship.

One of the admirals leaned against a cannon a ways off from the burning ship, lighting it. There was no cannonball packed--only powder. The Admiral vanished, a trail of flames packing into the barrel of the cannon. The result was considerably more than expected. A 'beam' of flames rocketed in the direction of the execution block, putting a clean, fiery hole through it.

Soldiers cried out, leaping out of the way of the blast. Standing on the block, Ace took off the hat he stole from the Navy admiral he'd beaten within an inch of his life, dusting it off. There was blood on his face and even through his clothes, it was visible. He didn't get much a chance to dress any wounds when he stole them. That lovely uniform he planned on keeping was too far in disarray. Still, Ace kept composed as the soldiers all turned to face him, absolutely confused.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a snail transponder, complete with an attached port which turned into a megaphone. Ace had always been excited to use it for the crew, but never had a chance. Now he had one. Nearly everyone throughout the base would have been able to hear him. For a moment, his eyes found Selphie and his composure was lost. There was nothing but rage in his eyes.]

Navy Soldiers. There's one law I'm going to teach you. Remember it well. Don't you ever lay a hand on my crew.

You've made a mistake you can't take back. What comes next--remember it! REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU HURT MY PRECIOUS CREW!

[His anger pulsed. A rush of wind overtook the stand and twisted the air--the full force of Ace's will striking the minds of every soldier within a hundred yards. The execution block splintered and shook. Many men and women, though not all--began collapsing where they stood, falling unconscious. Most others buckled, shaken and visibly confused. A handful others merely took steps back, abash and surprised to see their comrades fall.]

I give them points for choosing to keep an eye on this island, but they lose them all for bad picking of when and where to attack.

[What's that about divisions? Ikki doesn't know what that is.]

*At first, when she hears Ace's voice, she just assumes that she's hearing things. Then, as she realises that it's really him, Selphie very slowly lifts her face in his direction. She doesn't register much in that moment, just that Ace is there, wherever it was, her mind failing to catch up with her.

Then the man that was dragging her along by her wrists collapsed at once. Without that extra help to prop her up, she falls heavily onto her knees, head bowed forward*

[He shakes his head.] It means they're up to something. The Sun's probably in danger, but they won't expect us to attack back, they'd expect us to just run.

Maybe, but the hill doesn't mean much so long as they remain between us and the sea.

Yeah, you're right. The real danger is gonna be if I have to fight close to it, though. I'm gonna make sure I stay the furthest out so I have less to worry about.

[And, because obviously, he wants to make sure he's the last one back on the ship.]

[Ace's footsteps were slow and relaxed. He found Selphie, catching the wrist of the man who had been dragging her. His hands rifled through his pockets in the midst of the confusion, finding his keys. With a morose expression on his face, he began undoing Selphie's chains.

By then, the crowd was beginning to realize what had happened.]

It's their captain! Didn't the head officer kill him!?

Hey. I'm here. [Though, as the words came out, he imagined it would have been very, very little comfort.]

[The Doctor hadn't been present at the ambush, because he'd simply just been lucky enough to be somewhere else. And let's face it, he didn't exactly look the part of a pirate. A creative use of the Psychic Paper had gotten him past checkpoints now, and he'd linked back up with the others as soon as he'd heard. Word on the street was that it was bad, and that a bunch of pirates had been taken for summary execution.

That...well...he wasn't going to stand for that.

So once Ace returned, the Time Lord looked up from his thoughts, eyes on fire. He was well and truly angry now, a furor nobody in this universe had seen in him.]

Where are they and what at the defenses like? Without theatrics.

Edited 2013-11-27 23:26 (UTC)

Like I want her...

[But there's nothing else Marco can say either. He knows Ace won't be stopped, and he's not going to waste anymore words.]

All right, let's go. Follow the Striker as much as possible, but since we're going to lose him, we'll switch to the map then.

Ace. The captain leads, if you splinter, so will everyone else.

Slipping into the base was a simple matter. The guards weren't exactly up to Torchwood's standards of psychic training, so he'd had no problems with the psychic paper. So, while Ace was making things explode like a maniac, a tactic that the Time Lord didn't normally condone...this time he found it all too appropriate. For once, it wasn't him having to light the fireworks, and that was just fine with him. It left him free to focus on more important things.

Very not nice things.

Angry things.

Stepping into the execution yard, the Doctor's eyes ignored the soldiers, his ears ignored the screaming, and his nose the scent of burning wood and death. He was looking for his friends, and when his gaze swept over Selphie it took him a moment to even recognize her. And that was when his temper well and truly snapped. He headed towards here at a slow, deliberate pace, his face set in a furious glare, pinning the men that'd been dragging her in place like bugs to a corkboard. In one hand he held his screwdriver, and in the other an honest to goodness broadsword. It's hilt was covered in blinking lights, and several wires ran down it, disappearing into his long brown coat.

More guards moved to stop him, finally intercepting him a few feet from the battered young woman. One stepped in front, a particularly surly looking, strong willed one coming out in front while his fellows moved to surround the Time Lord.

"Halt, pirate. I don't care what your Captain says, you're not leaving here with any of the prisoners. Stand down and come quietly."

And the Doctor simply ignored him.

He peered around the big man and offered Selphie a comforting smile, his anger temporarily set aside for his friend.

"You alright dear? Don't worry, I'll have you out in a jiff."

Edited 2013-11-27 23:21 (UTC)

There are certain advantages to not sleeping. Not the least of which is a simply the sheer amount of time one has, linear or otherwise, free when one goes without that simple human need. And if you're not human and don't actually need to sleep, then it's even easier to capitalize on the time. Something the Doctor is more than happy to do right now.

Anyone near the Sun would find it hard to miss the "inventor" out on deck rather than squirreled away in his workshop. He'd set up a bit of a makeshift workstation, really a collection of barrels and a board balanced on top, and the whole mess was strewn with wires, little bits of glass, and various bits and bobs that most people would probably consider junk.

And at the center of it all was a sword. Anyone who'd seen the Doctor, spoken to him, or really been around him at all would easily recognize the significance of that. Weapons simply were not in his general vocabulary. But clearly that was not the case today. As the buzzing of a sonic screwdriver filled the air the Doctor barely glanced up. His usual jovial demeanor was gone, and there was a nearly palpable sense of pressure around him as he worked.

Occasionally he would mutter something to himself during a lull in his work, and sometimes snatches of a tune he was humming drifted across the deck, a singsong-y military cadence familiar to one individual in any universe. For the first time since the Great Time War, a Time Lord was going to war. And he was going armed for Dalek.

Early on in the day, the Doctor heads off into town, well before the Navy starts to arrive. He's been holed up for a while now, working on some big project that he's not really willing to talk about to anyone yet. And it's not like he's worried about military action against the Spades. It's not like 'ambush' is the first thing to cross his mind.

He can be found poking through shops, carrying with what essentially appears to be junk that he's collecting. Beads, glass, jewelry, and other assorted odds and ends.

As the day wears on, he's pretty oblivious to the possibility of an ambush, but then...he hasn't really got the look of a pirate, now does he?

Where the bullet is, I expect.

As for defenses...

[Marco grimly inspects the shackles.] Some sort of power repression like seastone.

[Holds them up even more grimly.] Any of you with regeneration or other powers? Avoid these. They're already still cold to the touch and they were on Ace. Think about it, yoi.

Not what I meant.

[He stands up and glowers down at the map.]

Power suppression's great. I don't have anything worth suppressing unless they can somehow make me stupid. Meant more what the bullet hole was referring to. Castle? Moat? No Moat? Bunker with steel doors? Energy screens and kinetic energy dampeners?

[Last one is an exaggeration, but who knows.]

[Marco picks up the map and looks all around it.] Center of a fortified marine base. Looks like standard for my world, Ace has slipped in and out through them more times than I'd like to admit. Probably why he didn't stay long.

No bunker, no castle, just your typical seaside fort. [Rubs his chin.] The hard part is finding the rest of the crew. And if Ace thinks he's doing it alone I'm going to strangle him several times when it's over.

All fun and games

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