Brawl Nonagon Knockout!

[Einsauer]

Welcome to the colorful and ever-exuberant coastal town of Carnival Cove!

Spoiler: Ambience/Music

The festivities are a staple to everyday life for the people of this island in Paradise, as are the endless waves of tourists that sail from across the entire world to take place in the nonstop party. Music seems to ring out all through the thoroughfares, as fair foods perfume the atmosphere, all competing amongst themselves to tempt those that pass by their stalls. An enormous Ferris wheel sat in the town center, a colorful monolith to Carnival Cove's majesty and wonder. While most came to Carnival Cove for the obvious reasons, some visited to lie low and some visited to snag notable bounties. @Dream @God_Usopun @FELI D AEROM

Performers, barkers and musicians moved confidently through the streets. Children and adults alike moved about with a sense of wonderment and unabashed joy.

While this joyful island city is allied with the World Government, it thrives on allowing guests of all backgrounds to visit their home. Pirates, despite being welcomed on the island, were not granted any sort of safety from pursuit of the law. Still, with all the bustling excitement taking place here it served as a great place to hide away-- at least when you're not known to be there...

"Three members of the Sweet Pirates were confirmed spotted docking one of their ships at Carnival Cove." Came a call through any Den Den Mushi connected with the World Government's private line of communication. "Due to growing bounties on their heads and their recent string of violence their capture or destruction is deemed quite important."

"All marines currently located near Carnival Cove in Paradise are to attempt a swift seizure or execution for Gerald Yopenheimer (@Lamby) , Santiago Bill (@Magimasterkarp) and Rouge C. Sang. (@Infinity)"
The call was received by three rear-admirals, each leading a division of troops throughout the Grand Line. To bring in their collective bounty would certainly look good for their statuses in the navy-- and for any unexpected listeners tapping into the call it served as a call to action to apprehend the bounties for themselves.

With the sun high in the sky, the three marine rear-admirals: Shaarib Hassan (@Emperor Cross) , Viktor Frost (@lophole) and Isolde White (@Einsauer) all arrived at separate ports in the bustling town.

It was time to put a stop to the Sweet Pirates' fun...or shall they escape to continue their rampage through the Grand Line?

___​

 

[God_Usopun]

BGB 1:
@Einsauer ​

The sun was high, casting sharp shadows on the bustling streets of Carnival Cove. Amid the sea of vibrant colors and jubilant faces, a tall, imposing figure slipped through the crowd, his presence masked by the island's nonstop festivities. X, with his cold, calculating gaze hidden beneath the brim of a black leather hat, moved with the practiced ease of someone who knew how to blend in despite his imposing figure.

X's black leather coat fluttered slightly as he walked, the crossed pistols at his belt and his long, black ponytail giving him an air of quiet menace. He had been here before, but his purpose was different this time. This was no raid or plunder; this was a reconnaissance mission. X had heard rumors that Carnival Cove was a haven for those seeking merriment and a place where ambitious souls, potential recruits for his nascent crew, the Nighthawk Vipers, could be found.

The thoroughfares were alive with music, laughter, and the tantalizing scents of fair foods. Performers juggled flaming torches, barkers shouted enticements to their stalls, and musicians filled the air with lively tunes. X's cold eyes scanned the crowd, assessing each face with the precision of a predator seeking prey.

In the town center, the enormous Ferris wheel stood as a colorful monolith, its lights blinking against the clear blue sky. X approached it, knowing that such a central landmark would be ideal for observing and gathering information. He purchased a ticket and boarded one of the gondolas, his movements casual and unhurried.

X had a bird's-eye view of the entire island as the Ferris wheel began its slow ascent. He could see the marines' ships docked at various ports and the distinct movements of troops led by the three rear admirals: Shaarib Hassan, Viktor Frost, and Isolde White. They were undoubtedly here for the Sweet Pirates, but X had his agenda.

From his elevated perch, X spotted a rough-looking group gathering near a game booth. Their demeanor and how they scanned the crowd suggested they were more than mere revelers. X's interest was piqued. As the Ferris wheel completed its circuit, he disembarked and made his way towards them, his steps silent but purposeful.

He approached the group with a calculated smile, his voice low and steady. "Gentlemen, I couldn't help but notice you seem a bit... different from the usual crowd. Might you be looking for some more exciting opportunities?"

One of the men, a burly fellow with a scar running down his cheek, eyed X warily. "What's it to you, stranger?"

X's smile widened, though it never reached his eyes. "Let's just say I have a proposition that could be mutually beneficial. The kind of work pays well and promises some adventure."

The men exchanged glances, curiosity piqued. The burly man stepped forward, crossing his arms. "Alright, stranger. You got our attention. What's the proposition?"

X leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm putting together a crew. The Nighthawk Vipers. We will control the seas, and I need men who aren't afraid to take risks and make a name for themselves."

The mention of the Nighthawk Vipers brought a flicker of recognition to the burly man's eyes. "We've heard of you. You're the one who took Roshwan and Lvneel."

X nodded. "Indeed. And there's more to come. But I need capable hands. Are you in?"

The burly man looked at his companions, who nodded in agreement. He turned back to X, a grin spreading across his face. "Alright, count us in. Name's Brutus. What's the plan?"

X clasped Brutus's hand in a firm grip. "Good to have you, Brutus. Meet me at the tavern by the docks at sundown. We'll discuss the details then."

As X walked away, he couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. His plan was in motion, and the Nighthawk Vipers would soon rise from the shadows. With its endless waves of tourists and festivity, Carnival Cove provided the perfect cover for his operations.

 

[Lamby]

CARNIVAL COVE! #1
@Einsauer​

"TIE THE SAILS! DROP THE ANCHOR and most importantly, GUARD THE SHIP UNTIL WE RETURN!"

Shouted Gerald as he pranced along the deck of the Cotton Blossom. He commanded the swabbies with an akin flare reminiscent of Sweet, he was stern and strong. He didn't wish to be opposed unnecessarily and worst of all... He added an unorthodox goofiness to his tone, raising and dropping his voice for an effect only he'd enjoy!

"It's time to disembark! Sweet left me in charge of the well being of the ship, unfortunately that would also mean my life is at stake; If anything happens to the ship!" He openly uttered paying an extremely particular attention to detail on the word "If". Slung over his shoulder was an invention of his very own, a powerful weapon that had been acknowledged for it's power! The high graded, "Atom Smasher"!

Spoiler: Yopen'Stats

Level 60
60x5 = 300

Strength: 63 +18 = 81
Speed: 63 +18 = 81
Vitality: 58 +18 + 5 = 81
Mind: 14
- Science: 28
Haki: 61
- Armament (Defensive): 61
- Observation (Precog): 61
Martial Art: 41
- Hammering Style: 82

Atom Smasher
O' Wazamono Grade Weapon
+B DPR to Unnamed Attacks

"Mr. Rouge, please come with me. This might be a treacherous journey as; from what I can tell... Some enemies loom nearby!" Gerald asked Rouge. He used his observation haki, to quickly scan the nearby area and he sensed more than the many joyous presences that had accumulated in the crowd. There were marines... @Infinity

Originally, this was a getaway mission; hoping to have a little bit of fun whilst Sweet travelled far and wide to complete her own missions. The blossom was left in the hands of Mikami but... Due to an unspoken hierarchy passed around by the crew, they'd collectively began respecting the strong. In order of how they had came, Sweet was the first; that's obvious since she was the captain. The next came Gerald and after Rouge and another who'd sailed his way onto the ship... (@Magimasterkarp). The likelihood of marines ever being an issue whilst they had landed on the island was something Gerald hadn't thought about, as an inexperienced pirate he was a bit neglectful of the influence of the World Government.

The Marines were here for safety reasons, presumably. Keeping a watchful eye out for pirates whilst they oblivious citizens enjoyed themselves on the cove.

"Gerald, is it a good idea to take the capable of fighters off the ship? Remember you have to secure the Blossom, else the Boss' gonna kill ya. I don't wanna get on her bad side." Interjected the monstrous Mikami; not one of the strongest members of the Sweeties but a reliable and loyal ally to have since he had started following Sweet way before our Gilded Knight.

Edited to change my stats.

 

[Aro]

Carnival Cove #1
@Einsauer @Lamby

Gerald commanded the swabbies with a stern and strong flare as the Cotton Blossom sailed steadily towards it's destination. Rouge's gaze followed the eccentric Floridian as he pranced up and down the deck, seemingly enjoying his captain role a little too much. Today was mean't to be a fun day of sorts, a mission to enjoy themselves while Sweet was away on one of her solo missions. However, the day had already begun on a sour note, as the helmsman had grown ill on the way here. The hood of his trenchcoat was down today, revealing the pirate's messy hair and baggy eyes.

Spoiler: Rouge's Stats

60×5=300
Strength: 63 (Race:+18, Mind: +5)= 81
Speed: 63 (Race: +18) = 81 [Movement: 81| Reaction: 81]
Vitality: 63 (Race: +18) = 81 [Stamina: 81 | Durability: 81]
Haki: = 61 [Color of Armament(Offensive): 81 |Color of Observation(Awareness): 81]
Martial Arts: 41
41×2=82
-Ittoryu:82

Gripping the helm tightly, Rouge followed the current as they drew closer and closer to their destination. Soon enough, the floridian would grab his attention with a question.

"Mr. Rouge, please come with me. This might be a treacherous journey as; from what I can tell... Some enemies loom nearby!"

Rouge sighed before nodding in response. "We should change our attire, keep a lower profile while we enjoy the carnival." He replied in a quieter tone than usual, clear evidence that he was under the weather.

He pulled up to the port smoothly and immediately the swabbies got to work, dropping anchor in order to keep their precious ship from floating away. Rouge made his way down to the deck, where Gerald stood with his Atom Smasher in hand. There, the helmsman would overhear Mikami's concerns about the safety of the ship.

"It'll be fine. Aro's here." He said nonchalantly, gesturing his thumb in the direction of the dog, who sat stoicly at the bow of the ship. "He's as capable as it gets."​

 

[FELI D AEROM]

Carnival Cove #01
@Einsauer
​

Yomai, a competent blacksmith with years of experience perfecting his trade in aquatic environments, has recently transitioned to freelancing in order to supplement his income for recreational activities. Yomai has deviated from his traditional blacksmithing route and is now involved in a wider range of projects. This change not only increased his scope of work, but also gave him the opportunity to experiment with new techniques and problems. Yomai embraces the flexibility that comes with freelancing and is delighted to apply his unique set of abilities to various projects and partnerships, going on a path of creative and personal growth.

His decision to freelance not only supports his recreational activities, but it also allows him to constantly push the boundaries of his skill, instilling a stronger feeling of passion for his work. Yomai's newfound independence allows him to experiment with diverse materials, styles, and methodologies, ultimately refining his craft and solidifying his reputation as a flexible and adaptable blacksmith.

Spoiler: Yomai's Image

Spoiler: Yomai's Stats

60×5=300

Strength: 44 (Race:+12, MA: +5)= 61

Speed: 54 (Race: +12, ) = 66
66×2=132
[Movement: 71 | Reaction: 61 ]

Vitality: 69 (Race: +12, ) = 81
81×2=162
[Stamina: 81 | Durability: 81 ]

Haki: 41 (Race: +18, ) = 59

59×2=118
[Color of Armament(Offensive): 81 | Color of Observation(Awareness): 37 ]

Minds: 31
31×2=62
[Blacksmith : 61 ]

Martial Arts: 61
61×2=122
[ Rokushiki : 61 | Boxing: 61 ]

Spoiler: Yomai inventory

A-rank Armor
Blacksmith tools made of Iron

"So this is the Famous Carnival Cove," Yomai mused, looking around at the colorful tents and buzzing bustle. "Let's check out all the shops; maybe I'll find something interesting," he reasoned, his attention piqued by the array of handmade trinkets and exotic commodities on display. With a sense of excitement driving him, he went through the maze of stalls, enjoying the beautiful craftsmanship of each item he encountered.

"Maybe I even found some pirates with a bounty on their heads," he thought slyly, his imagination running wild at the prospect of meeting famed mariners in such a bustling environment. He pictured the excitement of a high-seas chase, the clash of swords, and the enticement of hidden wealth awaiting discovery.

As he threaded among the masses, Yomai couldn't help but feel a surge of exhilaration within him. The air was filled with children's laughter, the perfume of freshly prepared dishes, and loud music that rang around the cove. Every corner held the promise of fresh and thrilling encounters, making him anxious to explore farther and discover the mysteries hidden beneath the vibrant carnival atmosphere.

Yomai became further engrossed in the lively world of Carnival Cove, mesmerized by its allure and limitless possibilities. Little did he know that his voyage through the bustling market would take him on unforeseen adventures and encounters that would forever alter the path of his destiny.


Edit: small error in stats
Edit2: added inventory

 

[Magimasterkarp]

Pulling into a port was always a hectic moment. Not because it was particularly complicated. But there was excitement in the air, as a long voyage was about to end. Not all of the crew manning the ship would be allowed to make landfall on the first day, but they were still all excited to feel solid ground under their feet, and doubly so since this was the famous Carnival Cove they were arriving at. Still, not all went off without a hitch. With all the preparations for the landing, nobody had taken down the pirate flag!
Bill nearly threw a swabbie up the mast to take it down. This was a peaceful excursion while Captain Sweet was busy otherwise. There was no need to alert anybody they were pirates.
Gerald, the golden Knight began barking orders to the swabbies as the shore drew closer. He was really taking to the role of a serious pirate. Quite the character growth from the young lad he met just swimming through the ocean in his armour. A proud smile swung in his voice as he parroted Geralds commands, shouting them into the lower decks of the ship, to cement himself as the right hand of the commanding officer.
Their new helmsman skillfully steered their vessel into the harbour, and Bill heard Gerald mutter

"It's time to disembark! Sweet left me in charge of the well being of the ship, unfortunately that would also mean my life is at stake; If anything happens to the ship!"

"Ah, the foils of youth. An angry captain be nothin' compared to the pain of losing a trusted ship, me lad. Ye'll learn the priorities of a seaman still."
A nostalgic grin on his face, he disembarks. It had been decided that only a few crew members would set foot on the island at first. Even if Bill had not been chosen to be a part of this group, he would have snuck off and enjoyed the festivities anyways. There was not much that could stand between him and an opportunity to drink. It seemed the other two who would accompany him in the merriment were Gerald and the new helmsman, Rouge. They were awfully tense, though.

"Mr. Rouge, please come with me. This might be a treacherous journey as; from what I can tell... Some enemies loom nearby!"

"We should change our attire, keep a lower profile while we enjoy the carnival."

He slung an arm across each of their shoulders:
"Yer just not accustomed ta big crowds. Thar be marines ev'rywhere. Ain't but a few islands without 'em. 'S long as ye behave yerself they ain't gonna bother ya. Don't let them find ya in the drunk tank and yer fine. They ain't gonna know we be pirates if we don't act like pirates."

He tapped at his temple smartly.
"Besides our golden boy, we ought to fit in nicely. We won't stick out."
The sharp nose of Lear, the two meter long taxidermied Spearfish he had slung over his back, skewered and popped a balloon.

"Gerald, is it a good idea to take the capable of fighters off the ship? Remember you have to secure the Blossom, else the Boss' gonna kill ya. I don't wanna get on her bad side."

Bill had been a grunt sailor, a hired goon, a swabbie and a scurvy dog for decades, serving on countless small time crews (In RPG terms, no more than level 10 fodder as captains each time), which had irrevocably colored his view of the world. So it was incomprehensible to him that Mikami, the physically largest member of the Sweet Pirates, was not considered one of the strongest members, even considering his simple nature. He's also never had a bounty poster with an amount worth remembering, so he isn't used to people possibly recognizing him.
"Ya got this, big man! Nobody's gonna be so daft as to start shit with you here!"
He shouted an encouragement towards the large oaf and continued further into the crowds with Gerald and Rouge in search of alcohol, blissfully unaware of what the island had in store for him.

Spoiler: Bills Stats

Level 60*5=300
(Strength 4, Speed 1, Vitality 4)x6
+5 Strength, +5 Speed from MA
Strength 52+24+5=81
Speed 70+6+5=81
- Movement 81
- Reaction 81
Vitality 47+24=71
- Stamina 81
- Durability 61
Martial Arts 81
-Cursed Marlinspike "Lear" 81
-Gunslinging 81
Expertise 36
- Spearfishing 72
Haki 14
- Armament 28 (Offensive)


Inventory (25/30 Science inventory slots used)
1 Science Gun (20 Points) (modified to fit in his other weapon +5 points)

Edited in: Armament is Offensive

 

[Emperor Cross]

Noise, too much noise. Shaarib hated all the cacophony around. The attraction park was hyped around all Grand Line. He wasn’t there for leisure. Work. Honestly Shaarib would prefer to give his monthly salary and not have to work at all.

Government were urging them to arrest a target : Sweet Pirates. Shaarib had met their crazy captain some months ago. A bad experience, she was a fishman, one from their new generation, the drugs addicts. He had to time to lose with them. The Skypiean was gunning to be Vice-Admiral not

Sun was already way up in the sky when Naglfar docked into the port. Our hero let out a sigh, took his coat and jumped on the platform below. It was time to kick some asses.

[Sorry for the length, lost the habit to write on my cellphone. Will post my stat when I get home.]

 

[lophole]

Waves crash onto the carnival island's sandy shore. Despite the great weather, the sea is densely fogged. A figure is faintly seen, seemingly walking on the sea. Onlookers are shocked and worried about who or what this figure could be. As the figure walks closer, the sea freezes. Once he hits the shore, the people see a young man with a marine jacket tied around his waist, which seems to cover twin katanas. Viktor Frost has arrived on the island.​

 

[Einsauer]

The carnival island could be heard across the vast seascape before it could be seen. Joyful music triumphed the sound of the waves crashing in on themselves. Standing tall and looking out expectantly from the foremost deck of a marine vessel (painted white with golden trim), was Rear Admiral Isolde White. Her comrades knew her as a ruthless professional, her division being notorious for tight cleanups of potential disasters.
Whatever could be called the closest to human-perfection was to be expected to serve on her ship as a marine soldier. Isolde had made it known many times before that she couldn't stand slackers or slobs.

Spoiler: Stats!!

Isolde White
Long-Leg Cyborg

Level 60

Strength- 49(+12)= 61
Speed- 56(+30)= 86
Reaction: 86
Movement: 86
Vitality- 69(+12)= 81
Durability: 81
Stamina: 81
Haki- 56
Armament Haki (Offensive): 81
Observation Haki (Awareness): 31
Martial Arts- 31
Rokushiki: 62

Cyborg- 39
Destruction: 61
Armoring:
Energy: 54
Utility: 41

Rear-Admiral White, being a descendant of the Long-Leg Tribe, stood far above the humans that made up the entirety of her squad.
The woman staked her status with each and every mission she carried out, as she held a perfect record for successful missions. Her execution was decidedly flawless. Her mission was to confirm the presence of The Sweet Pirates and to either arrest or eradicate them.

​

"Small time crooks." She remarked, looking through a small collection of bounty posters. She wasn't one to under-estimate her opponents, still she couldn't help but foresee her incoming complete victory. An extended finger ran across one of many large, golden cannons. Her finger was brought to her face as she inspected for dust, finding nothing she simply waited for her ship to dock at what appeared to the the primary pier of this festive island.

Over the cry of marine chatter, she took out a small notepad and pen marking down a few notes. The ship was stationed expertly without the need for her input; with a sharp whistle the chatter came to a swift halt. With a clear precision in the manner she spoke, she needed not raise her voice to command her men:
"What is expected?" She asked in a manner comparable to a scrupulous drill sergeant.

"Perfection, Rear-Admiral White!" Came the unified response from the saluting collective.​

With a second whistle, six soldiers amongst her squad stepped forward; their uniforms perfectly fitted and cleaned, each of them armed with a pistol, rifle and saber. Their polished boots stamped in perfect harmony as per Isolde White's strictly enforced guidelines.

A third whistle, matched with a stomp click of her long, powerful leg adorned with a white boot that was so skin-tight it could be mistaken for paint, signified another group of six soldiers to step forward (these marines a step back from the original six). It didn't need to be discussed what was expected, their missions were previously stated and they would not fail.

With a final glance at the papers, she turned the papers to face the men aboard her ship. The foremost bounty belonging to one: Gerald Yoppenheimer. "Additional mission note: do not damage this man's armor." Her voice was beautiful, but almost robotic in tone.

"Understood, Rear-Admiral White!" Came the perfectly uttered response.
​

With that she turned her back from her squad, hiding a sneaky smile. While otherwise a wholly serious professional, it wasn't a well-kept secret Isolde had a clear appreciation for all that glitters. She believed her crew to be none the wiser, but it was a painfully obvious to most that knew her. With a sudden mechanical jolt, her legs brought her high into the air and then down to the dock in a swiftly executed manner. The six men first called out before followed behind in a synchronized, yet admittedly far less impressive fashion.

Moving with a cold saunter the rear-admiral ignored the pleasant, cheerful greetings being offered to her by the plethora of colorful characters. She stepped through the mass of civilians as if she were a celebrity amongst her adoring fans, her entourage following closely behind her in a unified march. She scanned the heads passing in the crowd, standing over nearly all the common pedestrians and performers made her job easier.
She intended to waste no time, she intended to clean up the trash that had managed to blow its way into this town. Then she intended to get out of this gauche hell-scape of balloons and ribbon. "So tacky." She couldn't help but utter to herself in disgust.

Carnival Cove had been unknowingly cornered in by separate marine forces from all three main ports. The hunt for the Sweet Pirates begins here.

@God_Usopun @FELI D AEROM @lophole @Emperor Cross @Magimasterkarp @Infinity @Lamby @Dream

 

[God_Usopun]

BGB 2:
@Einsauer ​

As X navigated the bustling streets of Carnival Cove, a persistent unease clawed at the fringes of his mind. The once vibrant sounds of the carnival faded into a distant hum as he honed in on the subtle, unsettling shifts in the atmosphere.

Initially, it was just a feeling, a prickling sensation at the back of his neck, a sense of being watched. But as he continued to weave through the crowds of people, X began to notice something alarming: the number of marines in the area was increasing.

At first, it was just a few scattered patrols, their uniforms standing out amidst the colorful chaos of the carnival. But as X moved deeper into the heart of Carnival Cove, he couldn't help but notice more and more marines appearing on street corners, near entrances, and in strategic positions throughout the area.

His instincts told him that something was amiss. This was more than just a routine patrol. The marines seemed on high alert, their eyes scanning the crowd with a keen intensity that sent a shiver down X's spine.
As he continued to observe, X noticed that some of the marines were speaking into Den Den Mushi, their voices low and urgent. It was clear that they were coordinating something, though X couldn't quite discern what.

A chilling realization washed over him, a wave of foreboding, as he comprehended the gravity of the situation. The marines were not just a routine presence, they were closing in, and X understood that he needed to tread with utmost caution to evade their notice.
With a wary glance over his shoulder, X slipped into the shadows, his senses on high alert as he began to plot his next move. The carnival may have been a place of celebration for most, but for X, it had suddenly become a battlefield, and he was determined to emerge from it unscathed.

Spoiler: Stats

Name: Number X aka "Gunslinger X" or "G-X"
Former Pirate of the Backyard Crew
Captain of the "Nighthawk Vipers" Crew
Race: Human
Height: 6'1

Level 60 Stats:

• Strength: 81
  • Base: 69
  • Level Bonus: 12
• Speed: 81
  • Base: 69
  • Level Bonus: 12
  • Reaction: 81
  • Movement: 81
• Vitality: 81
  • Base: 64
  • Level Bonus: 12
  • Boost: 5
  • Durability: 81
  • Stamina: 81
• Haki: 75
  • Armament Haki (Offensive): 65
  • Observation Haki (Awareness): 85

Fighting Styles: 41

• Martial Arts (MA): 82

• [United States Smash Style]

 

[Lamby]

Carnival Cove #2​

Rouge sighed before nodding in response. "We should change our attire, keep a lower profile while we enjoy the carnival." He replied in a quieter tone than usual, clear evidence that he was under the weather.

"That's a bit much for me, considering my background however you are right about that. I have a bounty on my head, thanks to the neat little Radiobroadcast every Monday; the "Magikarp Mondays" segment keeps me regularly entertained with it's questions. Following though, it briefly ran through the current bounties of all the pirates present on the seas, that the world government knows of anyway. Funnily enough, I was flabbergasted when I spotted a poster conveying my existence amongst the menagerie they'd culminated." He replied. This was the keen planning phase of what's to happen during their time on this island, preparations to protect the Cotton Blossom were essential however their focus seemed more drawn to the festivities more than anything... Because the salty-fisher Bill had come to join the conversation!

He slung an arm across each of their shoulders:
"Yer just not accustomed ta big crowds. Thar be marines ev'rywhere. Ain't but a few islands without 'em. 'S long as ye behave yerself they ain't gonna bother ya. Don't let them find ya in the drunk tank and yer fine. They ain't gonna know we be pirates if we don't act like pirates."

He tapped at his temple smartly.
"Besides our golden boy, we ought to fit in nicely. We won't stick out."
The sharp nose of Lear, the two meter long taxidermied Spearfish he had slung over his back, skewered and popped a balloon.

"Is it wrong to feel so targeted purely because of my armor? It's the pride of my lineage!" He replied, sharply turning his head and expressing strong adversity. Though he wasn't aggressive in the slightest, his behavior was light; it was kind. "But if it's for the sanctity of our time here I'll sacrifice it, though... I can't really leave Atom Smasher behind. It's one of my few means of defense, So... You guys can go on ahead. I'll think of something, I'll meet up with you sooner or later." He insisted.

"It'll be fine. Aro's here." He said nonchalantly, gesturing his thumb in the direction of the dog, who sat stoicly at the bow of the ship. "He's as capable as it gets."

Bill had been a grunt sailor, a hired goon, a swabbie and a scurvy dog for decades, serving on countless small time crews (In RPG terms, no more than level 10 fodder as captains each time), which had irrevocably colored his view of the world. So it was incomprehensible to him that Mikami, the physically largest member of the Sweet Pirates, was not considered one of the strongest members, even considering his simple nature. He's also never had a bounty poster with an amount worth remembering, so he isn't used to people possibly recognizing him.
"Ya got this, big man! Nobody's gonna be so daft as to start shit with you here!"
He shouted an encouragement towards the large oaf and continued further into the crowds with Gerald and Rouge in search of alcohol, blissfully unaware of what the island had in store for him.

Mikami still had concerns however these were the strongest on his crew, therefore he had the safe notion to trust them. Bill's encouragement lifted his spirit and Rouge's mention of Aro added security to their safety, all that was left was for the crew to keep a low profile.

"Ah- Then... Ya heard em' boys!" He loudly exclaimed, rallying the swabbies. It seemed as though they had something of their own planned and awaiting to be set in motion.

 

[Magimasterkarp]

Bill was completely unfazed by the crowds of people. He greeted a marine that was looking at him with a small mock salute. Why should he be worried? The double row of golden studs that were keeping his blue and purple striped shirt closed jangled as he walked.
"There ain't nothing illegal 'bout goin' to a carneval. 'Specially if'n ye look like ye might work here, me boy." With a chuckle he adressed Gerald again "Just stand still completely, they'll think yer doin a living statue act. Ye'd earn good money, too. I remember old Stanley "Silverface" Cartwright..." he trailed off, caught in memories of meeting the Carousing Cartwrights, a group of circus performers that frequented the Santiago's Bar and Grill, where he grew up. "Silverface" had been an old master in the living statue trade. He died standing up, and had earned a small fortune before anyone caught wind (literally) that he wasn't just doing an extended performance.
Suddenly something Gerald had said finally registered and ripped Bill out of his recollections.

", I was flabbergasted when I spotted a poster conveying my existence amongst the menagerie they'd culminated."

"Wait, ye got yer own bounty poster? Congratulations! Is the description any good? I once had a poster wit' such a bad description, I handed in a drunk geezer off the street and collected me own bounty. Easiest 10.000 Berry I ever made."
He paused for a second. Now it was clear why Gerald was considering getting rid of his armour to blend in. It was quite conspicuous. It made sense that someone completely clad in gold would be notable enough to get their own bounty poster.

"But if it's for the sanctity of our time here I'll sacrifice it, though... I can't really leave Atom Smasher behind. It's one of my few means of defense, So... You guys can go on ahead. I'll think of something, I'll meet up with you sooner or later." He insisted.

"Maybe you ought to put on a loincloth, you'll look like a strongman with yer hammer. Or a tophat and a red vest. Nobody really looks at the carnie folk, ye'll just be a Ringleader, part of the circus."
With a carefree laught Bill scanned the surrounding booths for one that served alcohol. He was hoping to get smashed. Meanwhile at a public bounty board at another of the three harbours, a new batch of posters was being hung up, including...

@Dream @Einsauer @Emperor Cross @FELI D AEROM @God_Usopun @Infinity @Lamby @lophole​

 

[lophole]

Viktor walks on the beach, eyeing the onlookers and turning to face them with his broad smile. " Sorry if I scared everyone," he says while walking to the island proper. Viktor looks around the fun-filled island until his eyes land on a group of marines. "Hey, guys. I trust your little vacation was fun," one of the marines approaches the rear admiral. "Hey, Viktor. Glad to see you didn't drown. We haven't seen any pirates so far." Viktor nods. "That's good. I'll let you have your fun. Just keep an eye out," Viktor says before walking away.

​

Spoiler: Stats

Level 34 (34,953)
60 X 5: 300
rb hie
Strength: 84+6= 90
Agility: 50+12=62
->Reaction Speed 62
-> Movement Speed 62
Vitality: 23+18+ 5 =88
-> Durability 88
->Stamina 88
Hie Hie no mi: 69
Haki 50+18= 68
-> Armorment 68
-> precognition 68
Martial Arts: 24+5=29
->Ittoryu + Nitoryu 52

​

​

 

[FELI D AEROM]

Carnival Cove #02
@God_Usopun @lophole @Emperor Cross @Magimasterkarp @Infinity @Lamby @Dream @Einsauer
​

As he slowly strolled through the bustling stores, soaking in the sights and sounds of the vibrant marketplace, his attention was instantly drawn to a booming ruckus resonating from the port side, a sharp contrast to the peaceful ambience surrounding him just moments before. He could easily see the unfolding drama at the distant port from his vantage point along the straight path. A large maritime vessel loomed imposingly, dominating attention, while groups of marine troops disembarked onto the island, their controlled movements implying a feeling of purpose and power. Yomai felt a sense of urgency flood over him as he realized the Marines had arrived earlier than intended.

"The marines arrived sooner than expected. "I must act quickly to find the pirates before they are apprehended," Yomai contemplated, knowing of the high risks. Determined to find the elusive pirates ahead of the pursuing marines, he set off with fresh purpose, his mind racing with plans to apprehend the fugitives before they slipped past his grip and into the hands of authorities. The necessity to speed up his search weighed heavily on him, motivating his determination to maneuver the bustling island with agility and precision, with each passing second critical to the success of this high-stakes chase.

 

[God_Usopun]

BGB 3:
@Einsauer ​

The sun had set, and darkness enveloped the island. X took advantage of the cover of the night. The docks were heavily guarded, but he had a plan. Disguised as a humble fisherman, he quietly approached the harbor, blending in with the shadows.

Earlier in the day, he had scouted the area and identified a small cargo boat scheduled to depart at night. He knew the boat's crew were smugglers, and with a few well-placed bribes and his sharp negotiating skills, he had secured a hidden spot among the crates in the cargo hold.

As he approached the boat, he kept his movements slow and deliberate, avoiding the gaze of the patrolling guards. His Observation Haki was on high alert, sensing every movement and heartbeat around him. He silently climbed aboard and slipped into the cramped space he had prepared earlier, covering himself with a tarp and empty fishing nets.

The boat started to leave the shore, and soon, they sailed away from the island. He remained perfectly still, listening to the crew's conversations above deck. His heart pounded as they passed through the final checkpoint, but his nerves of steel kept him calm.

Once the boat was well into open waters, he relaxed slightly. He had escaped the island undetected, his mind already plotting his next move. The world was vast, and his journey was far from over. But for now, X savored the victory of his daring escape, knowing that he could overcome any obstacle as long as he kept his wits about him.

 

[Aro]

Carnival Cove #2
@Lamby @FELI D AEROM @Einsauer @Magimasterkarp @lophole

Rouge silently listened to the input of his fellow crewmembers. With Mikami's doubts finally being quelled at last, Bill began to rush into the bustling crowd with reckless abandon. Leaving Gerald and Rouge to follow behind.

"But if it's for the sanctity of our time here I'll sacrifice it, though... I can't really leave Atom Smasher behind. It's one of my few means of defense, So... You guys can go on ahead. I'll think of something, I'll meet up with you sooner or later." Gerald said in the kind tone he was known for. Bill responded with an unbothered laugh. "Maybe you ought to put on a loincloth, you'll look like a strongman with yer hammer. Or a tophat and a red vest. Nobody really looks at the carnie folk, ye'll just be a Ringleader, part of the circus."

Rouge would just sigh in response, gesturing his bearded chin towards the crowded town. "Forget it Gerald. Let's just go. We've already arrived in our giant flagship. If trouble was mean't to come to us, they already know we're here. Make the best of it before things get crazy." With that, he stepped off the boat onto the pier, where he walked in the direction Bill ran off to. He kept a close eye on him with his Color of Observation, not wanting to afford getting seperated so early into the trip. He weaved his way through the crowd of people and soon enough, Bill was in his sights, looking around eagerly for an alcohol booth to lose himself in.​

 

[Einsauer]

Rear-Admiral White was quick to make out unexpected marines amongst the crowd, most certainly belonging to an inferior division. They were all awkward and doughy by her standards; their shirts were untucked and their faces were smiling; unprofessional, embarrassing. Sucking her teeth, Isolde White shifted her eyes back to her task at hand: finding those criminals.
Removing her notepad and pen from an interior pocket in her jacket she jotted down a few notes hastily, but still with exquisite penmanship. She slid the small pad of paper back into her pocket and continued striding through the open squares packed with partygoing guests and inhabitants of the garish island. Her eyes moved from the crowd walking atop the yellow-bricking to the large, multi-colored Ferris wheel that she had found herself nearing.

Happy-go-lucky patrons, from native clowns to visiting lovebirds, boarded and exited the colorful engineering-marvel with cheerful expressions plastered across their drunken faces. Isolde held little respect for these people, but saw (and treated) them instead as what they were to her: 'civilians', casualties to be avoided.

Due to the haste of this mission's presentation to her, Rear-Admiral White had little time to study the island's layout as was her usual modus operandi- instead plunging herself neck-deep into scum littered waters. The six, well-maintained marines at her side looked to her for guidance, the sheer numbers of visitors overwhelming their ability to hunt and remove the scum. She returned their glances and nodded to them, relaying what she had figured with context:
"There's at least two docks leading into Carnival Cove, as expected." She said, fetching a Den Den Mushi from the interior pocket opposite to the prior. With only a single ring and a single word: "Move." the secondary six still waiting on the ship sprang into action beginning to scout along the shore of the cove, hunting down the other port(s).
Hanging up the snail-phone unceremoniously she looked to her men with a knowing smile beneath her golden sunglasses. "Three here, three at the big top tent." She said gesturing back to a large carnival tent they had passed to get this far. "There may be more divisions here, eager to take the trash out before us. Let us not allow that..."

"I shall continue scouting the streets. Be ready with your communicators."

"Understood, Rear-Admiral White!" Came the perfected response like before.​

The rear-admiral's men took off in two directions to station themselves as per orders while a secondary group continued their encirclement of Carnival Cove. Isolde sighed as she glanced around, the numbers were certainly daunting but her inhuman ability to track was no mere rumor, her eyes (while hidden) moved at a pace that would leave a normal human stunned.
Pointless faces locked away into a steel-trap of a memory, the rear-admiral considered her route to success carefully as she scanned; in a hectic playing field like this, things were easy to let slip out of sight and out of mind. Not for Isolde White.

The best option for now was to avoid startling the masses, to continue moving as covertly as possible would prove to be beneficial to her goal. However, a thought brewed in her mind; to repeat the technique of her 30th consecutive success...Surely, this was the perfect situation for the strategy to be repeated- but, that could wait for now.
With a sway of her hips and forward push of her powerful legs she headed off in the loose direction of the Sweet Pirates, if not on instinct than by sheer coincidence; should she continue uninterrupted for too long, she would eventually stumble across their harbored ship sitting blissfully amongst a plethora of other vessels at one of the three major harbors.

This day shall proceed perfectly as planned, as every day shall. Isolde did more than manifest her will onto her surroundings, she INSISTED it. Before long Isolde's Den Den Mushi began to ring out: puru puru puru puru, puru puru puru puru~

With a wordless answer from the woman, the caller's voice came in clear and concisely:

"Rear-Admiral White, second port spotted. No targets located, however a marine vessel is harbored here."​

"Inquire which division they are serving, as well as their purpose, and report back." She responded firmly without stopping her stride. Figuring out if this marine vessel was competition suddenly became an important note for her, failure included being out-hunted by another marine of equal ranking or, heavens forbid, a marine of lower ranking.

"Understood, Rear-Admiral White!" Came the expected responses through a thin film of static.
​

With that firm order, three marines in perfect form approached the Naglfar, and by extent: Shaarib Hassan. @Emperor Cross

@Magimasterkarp @Lamby @Infinity @Dream @FELI D AEROM @lophole

 

[Magimasterkarp]

The weather was great, the crowds were loud, and the tents and food stalls were garish. A perfect cacophony of gaudy fun. Bill was in high spirits, and why shouldn't he? He was on a leisure trip to a festival, while his protegé Johnny had to remain back in Water 7 to oversee the construction of a new ship for the Sweet Pirates Fleet, and also wash dished to pay off his bar tab. Bill would have to drink for two.
His search for alcohol was showing first results, as he had spotted a giant bottle of champaigne. It was prominently displayed atop a mountain of stuffed animals and souvenirs, as the top prize in a shooting gallery game.
"Aye, that'd be a nice prelude ta festivities with me boys."
He thought about the two Sweet Pirates that had accomanied him on this excursion. They were so tense, they were probably not used to the life of an outlaw. A little (well, a lot) of alcohol should help them loosen up a bit.
"Proprietor! One round please!"
Bill was sure he could win this bottle. The game, centered around hitting little figures that moved via a water wheel turned by a small brook babbling behind the stall with little water pistols, didn't seem all that complicated. All the people walking away dejectedly must just suck at aiming. He flicked a coin towards the stall owner. "Just grab a water gun and try to shoot the little buggers. Get them all to fall, you win a big prize." came the bored answer from the man who saw millions of confident shots every year. He cranked a litte wheel to make the dancing figures move a bit faster, and to cause the wave decorations in front of them to rise up and down to periodically obstruct them.
The little pistol felt flimsy in Bill's hand, but he was confident his years of experience as a mercenary and pirate had made him a good enough shot that that didn't matter. He aimed his gun, which was hooked up to a water hose, and pulled the trigger, scoring a direct hit!...
...But the little figure, a hunched silhouette carrying a large sack, didn't fall over.
"Oi, these guns are way too weak! They ain't got enough power ta push over a leaf! Yer a scam!"
"The rules of the game are clear, sir. You need to shoot them until they fall over. You're free to try again, if you wish." An answer so oft repeated, it must have left a groove on the proprietors tongue.
"I'll give ye another try alright."
A ticked off Bill tossed another coin over the counter, but deliberately missed the man's hand. As the carny bend over to pick it up, Bill took two steps back and reached out behind him. His hand found the head of the massive Marlin he was carrying on his back, and detached it. Just behind the skull, a grip emerged. The head, with its impressive nose, was a dangerous weapon. A chain rattled at the end of his unique weapon's hilt. It lead all the way down to the tailfin of the massive taxidermied fish, and had been used to sling it across the old man's back. His unoccupied other arm caught the massive body with a trained movement. Bill leveled his Marlinspike against the the clattering game and explored the hilt for a newer addition. A trigger had been installed there.
"I'll give ye a water gun, ya landlubber!"
The Marlins piercing eyes traced a complicated path through the air as the shooting gallery was riddled with projectiles. The shattered remains of the stall's main attraction were wet all over, and one of the shots had hit the water wheel, so all the little figures were thrown everywhere by the broken machine. Most of whatever bullets the aging fisherman had used splashed down harmlessly in the rivulet of water behind the stall, but through quite a few holes in the woodwork you could see small boreholes continuing all the way through multiple other stalls, all dripping water.

Spoiler

Corral Shootout (ranged) (multi hit)
41 Gunslinging DPR C
A barrage of water shots aimed at a single enemy or a group.

81-100: 3. Large Building Level +C= 101-119: 4. City Block Level (We don't need to get that far, though. I forgot to make a D rank attack for this, lol)

The stall owner came back up with the coin he had finally found, only to stare into the eyes of a fierce fish, with some kind of sharp spike slowly encroaching on his throat.
"I think I won." Bill indicated to the man's destroyed livelihood, "I'll take the big bottle o' Champaigne now."
Behind the stall, a child began to cry when the water from a dunk tank that had mysteriously sprung a leak, splashed onto its head.

 

[Lamby]

Carnival Cove #3​

"Maybe you ought to put on a loincloth, you'll look like a strongman with yer hammer. Or a tophat and a red vest. Nobody really looks at the carnie folk, ye'll just be a Ringleader, part of the circus."
With a carefree laught Bill scanned the surrounding booths for one that served alcohol.

Rouge would just sigh in response, gesturing his bearded chin towards the crowded town. "Forget it Gerald. Let's just go. We've already arrived in our giant flagship. If trouble was mean't to come to us, they already know we're here. Make the best of it before things get crazy." With that, he stepped off the boat onto the pier, where he walked in the direction Bill ran off to. He kept a close eye on him with his Color of Observation, not wanting to afford getting separated so early into the trip. He weaved his way through the crowd of people and soon enough, Bill was in his sights, looking around eagerly for an alcohol booth to lose himself in.

Gerald puffed his chest, his right hand nested properly on the puffy-rounded cuff surrounding his waste. He tensed and then strongly relaxed as he let off a strong "sigh" as he followed them with Atom Smasher boldly slung over his shoulder. He followed his crewmates; Bill and Rouge, even though there was a strong prospect that Marines lurked within the crowds, starting a confrontation with this much civilians around were very risky on their part. This was the thought Gerald carried, coping with the fact that he stood out exceptionally so.

The weather was great, the crowds were loud, and the tents and food stalls were garish. A perfect cacophony of gaudy fun. Bill was in high spirits, and why shouldn't he? He was on a leisure trip to a festival, while his protegé Johnny had to remain back in Water 7 to oversee the construction of a new ship for the Sweet Pirates Fleet, and also wash dished to pay off his bar tab. Bill would have to drink for two.
His search for alcohol was showing first results, as he had spotted a giant bottle of champaigne. It was prominently displayed atop a mountain of stuffed animals and souvenirs, as the top prize in a shooting gallery game.
"Aye, that'd be a nice prelude ta festivities with me boys."
He thought about the two Sweet Pirates that had accomanied him on this excursion. They were so tense, they were probably not used to the life of an outlaw. A little (well, a lot) of alcohol should help them loosen up a bit.
"Proprietor! One round please!"
Bill was sure he could win this bottle. The game, centered around hitting little figures that moved via a water wheel turned by a small brook babbling behind the stall with little water pistols, didn't seem all that complicated. All the people walking away dejectedly must just suck at aiming. He flicked a coin towards the stall owner. "Just grab a water gun and try to shoot the little buggers. Get them all to fall, you win a big prize." came the bored answer from the man who saw millions of confident shots every year. He cranked a litte wheel to make the dancing figures move a bit faster, and to cause the wave decorations in front of them to rise up and down to periodically obstruct them.
The little pistol felt flimsy in Bill's hand, but he was confident his years of experience as a mercenary and pirate had made him a good enough shot that that didn't matter. He aimed his gun, which was hooked up to a water hose, and pulled the trigger, scoring a direct hit!...
...But the little figure, a hunched silhouette carrying a large sack, didn't fall over.
"Oi, these guns are way too weak! They ain't got enough power ta push over a leaf! Yer a scam!"
"The rules of the game are clear, sir. You need to shoot them until they fall over. You're free to try again, if you wish." An answer so oft repeated, it must have left a groove on the proprietors tongue.
"I'll give ye another try alright."
A ticked off Bill tossed another coin over the counter, but deliberately missed the man's hand. As the carny bend over to pick it up, Bill took two steps back and reached out behind him. His hand found the head of the massive Marlin he was carrying on his back, and detached it. Just behind the skull, a grip emerged. The head, with its impressive nose, was a dangerous weapon. A chain rattled at the end of his unique weapon's hilt. It lead all the way down to the tailfin of the massive taxidermied fish, and had been used to sling it across the old man's back. His unoccupied other arm caught the massive body with a trained movement. Bill leveled his Marlinspike against the the clattering game and explored the hilt for a newer addition. A trigger had been installed there.
"I'll give ye a water gun, ya landlubber!"
The Marlins piercing eyes traced a complicated path through the air as the shooting gallery was riddled with projectiles. The shattered remains of the stall's main attraction were wet all over, and one of the shots had hit the water wheel, so all the little figures were thrown everywhere by the broken machine. Most of whatever bullets the aging fisherman had used splashed down harmlessly in the rivulet of water behind the stall, but through quite a few holes in the woodwork you could see small boreholes continuing all the way through multiple other stalls, all dripping water.

Spoiler

81-100: 3. Large Building Level +C= 101-119: 4. City Block Level (We don't need to get that far, though. I forgot to make a D rank attack for this, lol)

The stall owner came back up with the coin he had finally found, only to stare into the eyes of a fierce fish, with some kind of sharp spike slowly encroaching on his throat.
"I think I won." Bill indicated to the man's destroyed livelihood, "I'll take the big bottle o' Champaigne now."
Behind the stall, a child began to cry when the water from a dunk tank that had mysteriously sprung a leak, splashed onto its head.

Gerald was uncharacteristically silent, an empty mound of moving armor that loomed close-by the festive old man who had just spent a few on quick game. He watched in amazement but the strong and powerful emotion that held him back wasn't fear... It wasn't anxiety of Marines, it wasn't that he was a spoil-sport and thus didn't know how to properly enjoy himself; it was something completely adjacent to all these notions. Gerald...

...WAS AN INTROVERT!
He watched keenly, and continued to ponder as Bill seemingly enjoyed himself.

As you can see, He is shaking in his boots.

 

[Aro]

Carnival Cove #3

Rouge and Gerald silently followed behind of Bill. He cut his gaze towards a gaming booth, realizing the old man had found his target. A massive bottle of champaigne, sitting atop a mountain of prizes. All the pirate had to do was win the shooting gallery game and it would be his for the taking. Rouge watched in amusement as Bill paid for his turn and took the tiny water pistol in hand.

"You've got this!" He said enthusiatically, giving his companion a simple thumbs up.

Bill fired, hitting the target with expert precision. Rouge gave a small smirk in response. The old man didnt disappoint. However, his smirk quickly transformed into a raised brow. The target did not fall. A scam! Bill protested, calling out the store owner dor his treachary, however the man would just give an uninterested response.

"The rules of the game are clear, sir. You need to shoot them until they fall over. You're free to try again, if you wish."

Rouge rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Let's just go. We can get alcohol somewhere else without having to play an annoying game."

Still Bill persevered, clearly irritated by the situation. He paid the man, distracting him with a missed throw of a coin. He took a few steps back and violently unleashed his weapon, firing a blast of water droplets that completely destroy the stall, as well as any ones unfortunate enough to be set up behind of it. When the owner's focus returned, he was met with sharp spike aimed at his throat.

"I think I won. I'll take the big bottle o' Champaigne now." Bill said smugly.

However, Rouge was less than pleased. He stormed in the old man's direction, ignoring the crying sounds of a child in the distance. This was not how things were supposed to go. He grabbed Bill's shoulder and turned him around, before grabbing him by the collar fuming.

"What the fuck was that Bill? What happened to 'S long as ye behave yerself they ain't gonna bother ya.'? And 'They ain't gonna know we be pirates if we don't act like pirates.'? That was a blantant example of acting like a fucking pirate!" He growled. The stall collpased behind of them, leaving the cheating stall owner in tears.
A crowd began to gathering, whispering among themselves and casting angry glances.

Rouge's eyes wandered around him. "...We should make ourselves scarce. Now."​