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"Must I do all the work?"

"This should go swimmingly."
"Stop bullying me~"
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Search found 7 matches for 9900ff

by Brood
on Mon Mar 01, 2021 1:08 am
Search in: Notice
Topic: [Notice: Contestation Saga][Part I] Eviction Notice: Seafarer's Shindig
Replies: 72
Views: 1489


The unnamed Marine Captain looked onward at the Dead Air, his eyes narrowing as he focused his observation haki towards the large carnival ship. He found himself inhaling sharply, motioning towards his crewmates to get into position. "Show no mercy! Obliterate the hull so that their water intake becomes critical!"

His crew obeyed, getting into formation so that they could unleash righteous fury down upon the Primetime Pirates...

But their underestimation of the Dead Air was a critical oversight.

Unlike most in these blues, The Primetime Pirates prided themselves on a swift and utter domination of any ship that they came across. They didn't need to be the fastest ship on the ocean and they didn't need to be the sturdiest either. The Primetime Pirates were harbingers of complete and total destruction. To that end, the only thing that Brood wanted in this world was to showcase devastatingly overwhelming firepower at all times.

Perhaps he would keep said mantra when he established the new iteration of his crew, Primetime Service and Delivery. It was something that he contemplated the logistics of while his crew found themselves causing mayhem out in the blockade.  Brood looked with disinterest at the display of his crew thus far. They didn't seem to have the flair for drama that he looked for within his crew.
Where the fuck was the passion?

He'd sigh to himself as he'd make a gesture towards one of his crewmates that happened to be cloaked by shadows. "Send the eh-boats..."

Brood peered over towards all of the enemy vessels with absolutely no enthusiasm. He'd raise his hand, flippantly gesturing over to each of the ships that he knew his crew mates had boarded. From either side of the Dead Air, smaller ships that seemed to be powered by wooden wheels that spun against the water, sailed towards each of those vessels. Each manned with two sharpshooters and a person who was responsible for driving the boats.

As Desmond looked over towards the six boats that were coming to retrieve them. He hollered with glee. Leaping up into the air and landing onto one of the boats before it spun around and headed back to the Dead Air.

Erudite and Jackson did the same, each reacting in their own unique way. Erudite was too busy checking her nails to care about being rescued and Jackson was praying to some effigy he created out of spare wicks from his explosives that hadn't completely incinerated the cords.

One ship each approached the vessels that held Leyla, Cygnus and Seraphina respectively.

The one that approached the raft in which Cygnus found himself, merely bobbed on the water. Waiting for him to board and once he did, it would take him back to the Dead Air. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Shipwright! Though I'd make sure your enemy is actually dead first, haha." Stated one of the sharpshooters, who was taking pot shots at one of the nearby marine ships.

The one that approached where Leyla was supposedly located waited nearby the ship. With the navigator of the smaller vessel calling out over a voice amplifying den-den mushi. "We are here for when you wanna go back to the ship, Madame Keket!"

The last of the vessels, approaching Serephina and the twins, found itself waiting nearby to their location as well. "You guys aren't done yet? Sheesh!" Stated a small tsundere-like sharpshooter who started to fire upon yet another ship as well. "Captain wants you guys to finish soon cause he is gonna unleash the Grumble Party soon."

No one was being rushed per say, but they each now had an escape route for once they finished their daring raids of marine property.

(OOC: This is merely how you all get back to the ship, otherwise, continue with your plots/fights.)

{ 617 | 6,939 | 5000 }
Tag Order

Brood's color: #4F94AE - Laugh: Eeeheheheh!
Erudite's color: #75ca9b - Laugh: Splishlishlish!
Desmond's color: #9900ff - Laugh: Pervavava!
Jackson's color: #840a35 - Laugh: Dieyiyiyi!
Sunflower's color: #d98301 - Laugh: Slashuashuashu!
Peytor's color: #bb8598 - Laugh: Businessnessness!
by Brood
on Sat Feb 20, 2021 11:28 pm
Search in: Notice
Replies: 72
Views: 1489


Jackson wasn't exactly the most chatty individual. His priorities were far more sinister than that of his comrades. Especially given the fact that he was known for a far more bombastic approach than even Brood at times. This might have been attributed to his weapon of choice, which he called Trick Dynamite. They were a wide variety of specialty sticks of dynamite that had unique effects. His role within the crew often allowed him to be asked to come ashore so that he could create entrances or cause distractions. But today, today he was given a blessing.

The right to shepherd many wondering souls into the longing embrace of death.

Unlike his other compatriots, Jackson wasn't exactly skilled enough in riding grumble balls, so he immediately slipped off his and fell towards the water's below. Though he found himself surprised the moment that he landed on what appeared to be a sugar-like platform. One that carried him the rest of the way across the wanting sea below and near to one of the dozens of vessels that were waiting on the sea.

The burned man would push off the platform and land onto the nearest vessel, but unlike his contemporaries., who thought the best course of action was to gloat and mock their opponents before they started the slaughter, Jackson took a more practical, measured approach.

That was to say that he immediately started to turn into a chuckle fuck whilst tossing out Dynamite at a blinding speed. His voice at a strangely higher pitch as he exclaimed with all of his heart "Dieyiyiyi!!!"

His face adopted a twisted visage beneath all of the bandages. He showcased no knowledge of the word restraint, despite showcasing a high level of skill. Aiming for several of the less than structurally secure areas of the vessel. His goal was very simple, he wanted to completely sink the ship before anyone got a chance to rally their reinforcements or troops. Unfortunately, he wasn't as dominating as Desmond and Erudite. So when the Captain of this vessel arrive, he found himself being sent flying backwards.

Blood spurted from his lips as he made an audible 'ack' noise. The barking of orders could be heard in front of him, though he couldn't focus due to being hit a hell of a lot harder than he had anticipated. They were just in the blues and no one here really should have been a challenge for the Primetime Pirates. But then again, he wasn't one of the stronger members of the crew. Perhaps that was the reason why he found himself being overwhelmed slightly here.

"Don't go passing out on me, Sunshine. Your... cheeky behavior is going to earn you a quick trip to the morgue. So come die on your feet like a man." The thick and burly voice belonged to seven foot tall man with a magnificent orange beard.

This tall individual sported a rather masculine physique, with musculature that could be seen despite his marine outfit. He held a cigar in his mouth and on each of his hands there were a pair of golden knuckle dusters. Though perhaps the most standout thing about this man's visage was that he had a rather large nose, far too large to be on a normal person. To his companions he was known as the Koala fist, even though this specific captain didn't have a zoan devil fruit.

"I won't act like your companions aren't impressive. But it's still more luck than skill and that all runs out here. Now, show me why you guys think you can claim to be the Primetime." The Captain showcased an arrogance that was to be expected of a marine.

Jackson struggled to get up on his feet, eyes narrowing momentarily as he staggered over towards this unnamed Captain. Taking out a stick of dynamite and tossing it towards the beast of a man before him. It had a shorter detonation cord, so the moment it was in front of the man's face, it would blow up. The only issue, was that his opponent seemed to be a vastly superior fighter when compared to the demolitions expert.

The explosive found itself being hit with enough force to send it flying back towards Jackson faster than it had been tossed towards the opponent. As a result the explosion sent the burned man flying backwards instead. Causing his body to roll against the deck before Jackson could gather his bearings. Looking up, he found himself being kicked in the ribs before his face was stepped on.

Jackson would be treated like a a swarm of roaches mere moments later. As the burly man began to repeatedly stomp his foot down onto the poor serial killer's cranium. Not stopping until he heard a noticeable cracking noise. As though something precious was broken.

"You've got to be shitting me. This is the best your crew has to offer? I'm never going to break a sweat at this rate." He mocked before placing his hands upon his waist and surveying the damage he caused to the masked man before him.

Ceasing his onslaught, the bronze-bearded marine lowered himself and grabbed by the loose tufts of Jackson's hair that were exposed by the earlier explosion.

The orange haired marine reared back with his right hand building up tension within his muscles before throwing an extremely powerful overhand haymaker straight into the face of Jackson, causing the man to barrel backwards and slam up against the side of the ship.

Jackson's body had garnered too much velocity, however and he went careening right over the railing, falling towards the murky depths below.

"Alright lads! Correct our course and head straight for the Dead Air. I'm going to take their Captain's head myself!" The large man sounded as confident as he did monstrous and though his crew hesitated, they obeyed their commanding officer's orders.

This action caused a bit of a stir from the main flagship within the blockade, however, as the Captain's snail transponder began to ring. Answering it, he heard none other than Roslyn.

Looking the youth over closely. He could see that the man had a freckled face and deep blue eyes. Dirty blond hair and given the fact that he had a jacket over his shoulders, it was clear that this man was the captain of the ship. Strange... given his age. Desmond stuffed his hands into his pockets momentarily as he looked upon the newcomer with a shitty grin.

"Why the hell are you breaking formation?! You need to protect the vanguard other-" With a click the call was ended. The Captain of this now rogue vessel having grabbed his snail and chucked it into the ocean below.

He couldn't miss the opportunity to take on one of the Supernovas and prove himself worthy of promotion. If the Grasshopper boy was able to raise through the ranks fast, then so to could he achieve greatness. And what was greatness without risk?

Floating like nothing more than a lifeless corpse, Jackson drifted across the waves until he felt something nudge against him.  It was another vessel, but this one seemed to have yet engaged in any fighting. Shaking his head, he began to ascend up the side of the ship. Slowly and carefully making sure that he could place sticks of dynamite into the holes of the various cannons which had yet to fire.

He took his time crawling between each of the ports, making sure that he wasn't caught by the individuals aboard the ship proper. Given that his own explosions were now waterlogged and likely wouldn't produce the desired effects, he decided it was best to just cram as many sticks that he could into their artillery.

He only had enough time to cover the starboard side of cannons before he crawled all the way up to the deck. Tossing himself over the railing and resting momentarily.

Luckily he fell behind a couple of barrels, which obscured the vision of those whom might have been looking for him.

As a result, it gave him enough time to take his last stick of dynamite and dry off the fuse. Upon lighting it, he stood up and dropped it over the side of the railing, before taking off in a sprint cross the ship frantically. The marines who now noticed him looked panicked and confused given his erratic movements.

Many began to charge at him, other's began to fire their pistols, but it didn't matter. The explosion caused by his last stick was reserved for taking out a large crowd of people in one go. Not because it was extremely potent, but because it was an immolation stick.

Since it would naturally causes half of the ship to catch ablaze, that meant it would ignite every last stick of dynamite that he had placed prior. Including detonating the munitions that were already aboard the ship.

A crescendo of explosions occurred rapidly. The entire lower deck of the ship becoming a jungle of kinetic force, and the ship itself would splinter and crack before blowing up in every direction.

Burned and in pain, Jackson's face didn't show any dismay. Instead he wore a sickening smile. Showcasing his glee at claiming a great deal of lives as he struggled his way out of the rubble and debris. The ship now being nothing more than a floating island of wood and fire. He'd raise himself to his feet, staggering over towards the top of the pile.

Smoke bathed him as fire danced around his location... and he turned to see both Desmond and Erudite completely finished with their ballets of death and destruction.

His eyes moved around hurriedly, noticing in the distance a single ship getting dangerously close to the Dead Air... the poor ignorant fools.

Jackson wouldn't be awake to see what happened, however, succumbing to his injuries and slumping over momentarily. He wasn't dead.

But he was certainly fucking tired.

{ 1,663 | 6,322 | 5000 }

Tag Order


Brood's color: #4F94AE - Laugh: Eeeheheheh!
Erudite's color: #75ca9b - Laugh: Splishlishlish!
Desmond's color: #9900ff - Laugh: Pervavava!
Jackson's color: #840a35 - Laugh: Dieyiyiyi!
Sunflower's color: #d98301 - Laugh: Slashuashuashu!
Peytor's color: #bb8598 - Laugh: Businessnessness!
by Brood
on Thu Feb 18, 2021 6:30 am
Search in: Rubeck Island
Topic: [Episode] Phantasm's Debut
Replies: 1
Views: 110

[Episode] Phantasm's Debut

OOC: (-eh is a cough; -ee is a weeze)

Many thought the Dead Air to be quite the Queer vessel. It didn't have a traditional look, nor did it have a traditional deck. Parts of the starboard and port of the ship were exposed, but the majority of the deck itself was covered with circus tents. This meant that no matter the weather, most of the crew wasn't exposed to those elements due to the fact that the quality of the ship's build was beyond that of your average sea-faring vehicle. Where the Captain's Quarters where meant to be had once been a doctor's office, however, given the ever growing nature of the crew, Brood turned it into a meeting hall.

Brood took a moment to look upon his commanding officers as he sat upon his makeshift throne, comprised of beer kegs and other loose debris. It sat within the meeting hall and showcased the way that Brood thought of himself, though there was a very defined layout to the room that showed off it's exclusivity. To either side of the throne were padded chairs. Well constructed chairs that were very comfortable and were far more expensive than Brood's solitary throne.

Each of the chairs seemed polished, though it appeared as though many of them were empty. Only Erudite and Desmond found themselves seated on either side of Brood. There were six chairs on each side, evenly positioned between one another. Brood didn't allow the weaker members of his crew to enter here beyond the janitorial staff. Those who had yet to earn his trust weren't allowed in here either.

"We got-ee an eh-infiltration contract.... Desmond-ee... handle it.."

Waving his hand, Brood didn't even bother to look at Desmond as he relaxed in his uncomfortable chair. Taking a moment to look towards Erudite and discuss with her about an upcoming event that the crew was going to be participating in.

Desmond arose from his seat, belching all the while. He showed no hesitation as he made his way outside of the meeting hall and onto the side deck in which his new-found comrade, the desert thief Layla, awaited him. He'd yawn loudly, clutching in his hand a gourd of some strong spirits that he pilfered from the stockroom earlier that day. He didn't seem all that worried about what the day would demand of him, but did seem all the more interested in getting to know more about the mute woman on a more personal level.

Why Brood thought it a good idea to send someone of his asininely large stature on a secret infiltration mission was beyond Desmond's understanding. But perhaps it played into the future role that Desmond would play among this here crew.

"Looks like today is ya lucky day sweet cheeks. Yous and I gonna be doin' the contract for those Rat Bastards. Looks like we doublin' up. Not only is we gonna rob em, we gonna capture dem." His large smile showcased the raw emotional high he got from the sheer idea of causing harm to others. He really did enjoy to cause misery, especially if he was getting paid for it.

The thirteen foot tall juggernaut peered out over towards the far away island with a snort, reaching down so that he could offer his hand towards the woman. "Since ya weak as fawk, I don't want ya ta die. So take ma hand." He sounded less and less like he came from the North Blue the more and more he grew in strength. As though he developed his own unique way of speaking from all the adventures he had throughout the Grandline.

A feat that alone testified to how strong he truly happened to be.

If and when she took his hand he would hoist her up so that she could sit on his shoulder. It was easier that way and when the ship was close enough to fire upon the port, he'd merely leap upwards and ride one of the grumble balls (cannonballs made out of sugar) that were fired out of the cannon itself, so that they could make it to the port unscathed.

Since the ball would naturally shatter over the flight above the water, Desmond utilized his leg strength to rocket off the ball even further than the distance would normally allow. Landing somewhere along the beach that would lead them to their destination. It would still take the pair at least an hour to get to their destination, but that was better than waiting for the ship to waft in close enough for it to dock naturally. Not that Desmond minded a little walk. Especially if he was doing so with a fine looking lady like Layla. She had tits and she couldn't talk? Talk about a win-win scenario.

He'd place the woman down softly against the sand before speaking to her. "Alright, we just gotta head west." A simple directive, one that he was allowed to make since he was one of the top officer of the Primetime Pirates. Something that he figured that he should get out of the way in telling Layla now. He was aware she was new to the crew and despite her job as a Quartermaster, she probably lacked the understanding of how the crew itself was structured.

"Was curious, ya on the crew ta stay? Or ya just passin through?" An important question to ask the female, he kept his eyes focused on her so that he could figure out just how she communicated with the majority of the crew itself. He had hoped she brought with her all the tools that she needed. Desmond often only needed his raw physical power to get shit done.

Which begged the question of why they needed this physically weak stealthy bitch on the team. She had best prove herself, or she'd not be making it back to the crew in one piece.

{ 980 | 980 | 5000 }
Salazar The Frenzy's Appearance

Brood's color: #4F94AE - Laugh: Eeeheheheh!
Erudite's color: #75ca9b - Laugh: Splishlishlish!
Desmond's color: #9900ff - Laugh: Pervavava!
Jackson's color: #840a35 - Laugh: Dieyiyiyi!
Sunflower's color: #d98301 - Laugh: Slashuashuashu!
Peytor's color: #bb8598 - Laugh: Businessnessness!
by Brood
on Wed Feb 17, 2021 12:28 pm
Search in: Spider Miles
Topic: [Episode] Burning the Spiders Web.
Replies: 6
Views: 319

[Episode] Burning the Spiders Web.


She decided it was in her best interest to merely follow the man for a time. To ensure that he didn't get in any more trouble. She came to this conclusion due to the fact that he finally introduced himself and it seemed as though his laid-back attitude was a refreshing change of pace when paired up against the rest of the members of her crew. She hadn't been a crew member all that long, but she most certainly had it in mind that she'd like some variety aboard her baby, the Dead Air.

She took her time tracking the man down, of course. Observing where he was going and what he was doing. Making sure that no one was harassing the poor man on his way to apparently get some grub. She heard he was a shipwright and such knowledge was good to know, especially since the big dumbass Desmond decided that he wanted to stop working on ships and start working on music.

This left their ship without anyone to do repairs and given that this big doggy was capable of handling himself against people that didn't seem all that weak themselves, she wanted to see just how far that strength went.

It could lead to a potential alliance.

Seeing the man rag-doll more thugs brought a smile to her face. She figured that she'd go and eat with him now that he cleared the way and followed him after a short while. Much to her shock, he was too large to fit inside of the ship. Which caused the female to stifle a laugh. Approaching him, she waved to get his attention.

"Now there is a problem lots of fellas don't have sugah." She'd giggle momentarily before placing her right hand upon her hip, which she popped out for emphasis. She'd look the mink over before sighing to herself. "If'n you're hungry, we can stop on down by the open grill to the south. But you're fixin' to need to deal with your problem as soon as you can sweetie."

She figured he was smart enough to comprehend exactly what she meant by that. If he didn't deal with his issue he'd cause more criminals to target him. Since it would make him appear as though he was nothing more than easy prey. She didn't often do things pro-bono, it was against the crew motto. But she could work something out with this man if he was willing to put in both the time and the effort. It was their job to make deals, especially when they didn't get contract work in. Given that the captain had yet to set up their crew as an official privateer service... taking these on the fly contracts were the only way they made any money.

They weren't pirates after-all.

"Say... I reckon we could strike up a deal honey. You come fix up my ship for a little while, and I'll help you get rid of your little gang problem once and for all. Might be a bit sudden, but if you're really from Zou, you must have built...or been on one hell of a vessel to make it here alive." She beamed a smile at the man and smacked her hands together.

Looking over towards the horizon, she could do naught but smile as she thought of where she could go with her ship. The places they would see and the chaos they'd bring for the sake of her crew. Those were the things that drove her forward. It had been so long since the last time she set sail with a crew. Joining up with Brood gave her peace... but she had more ambitions to uncover. If she could follow this path, then perhaps it was best to pay it forward to someone whom she saw potential in.

"You don't need to go decidin' on an empty stomach now. Let's catch a bite first." She'd lower her hand towards the larger man, to help him stand regardless of if he needed the help or not.

She wasn't even sure if her hunch was good or not. This guy could have been just another joker making his way to mediocrity.

{ 701 | 2244 | 5000 }
Erudite's Appearance

Brood's color: #4F94AE - Laugh: Eeeheheheh!
Erudite's color: #75ca9b - Laugh: Splishlishlish!
Desmond's color: #9900ff - Laugh: Pervavava!
Jackson's color: #840a35 - Laugh: Dieyiyiyi!
Sunflower's color: #d98301 - Laugh: Slashuashuashu!
Peytor's color: #bb8598 - Laugh: Businessnessness!
by Brood
on Thu Feb 11, 2021 9:17 am
Search in: Notice
Replies: 72
Views: 1489


"PERVAVAVA!!!" A boisterous voice dripping with murderous intent came bellowing from the deck of this particular marine vessel. So loud in his bellow that the wooden planks of the vessel itself waned and cracked under the stress. A large individual, standing at over thirteen feet in height, looked down upon the panicked marines and city guardsman whom had the unfortunate task of attempting to bring this mountain of a man to justice.

They all knew that things were about to get rough and fast. Especially since one of their allies found themselves in a truly uncomfortable predicament. Their head was nestled ever so perfectly underneath the large designer boot of the individual who had invaded their ship. Given the way that their crewmate's eye was both leaking a sanguine fluid whilst also bulging out, it was safe to say that their comrade was dead.

Emerald green eyes peered forward behind darkened shades, glancing across the faces of each horrified individual that had the audacity to try and prevent the Primetime Pirates from taking an ice relaxation staycation here on Notice. Desmond wasn't the kind of guy to tolerate being cockblocked and he took their actions to be that to the nineteenth degree. Anyone that got in the way of his ravenous appetite for booze and beautifies were likely to die.

"Halt! I am-" Desmond blocked out this annoying sound being directed towards him. "...You can call me by my Epithet, the Whirlwind..." Desmond yawned momentarily, deciding to finally look over towards whatever the fuck was mumbling in his general direction.

A plucky yet scrawny young marine officer emerged forward from the crowd. Idealistically looking over towards Desmond with the same aura that resembled a heroes. His voice was indicative that he hadn't even sprouted a few hairs on his balls yet. Though this didn't permit him any sympathy from the giant before him. The younger man didn't showcase any fear however. As though he felt in his heart that he could win.

"...You and your entire crew is under arrest! If you'd kindly surrender that would be appreciated!"

Desmond reacted in a manner befitting his personality to the letter. Looking over at one of the attractive female petty officers and speaking to her in a nonchalant manner. "Want to be a hot young single mother? He gave her a massive grin, a blush across his own face as he adopted a dumb expression. She was perhaps the most important person upon the vessel in his mind. The rest of these hoe were 'fuggin ugly' in his opinion.

"H-How dare you!" She began to speak before the young faced man zipped across the deck utilizing one of the six powers, soru. "Don't underestimate me, sir!" While the attack was surprising and his jab came in right as he appeared, so that he could carry the momentum of his speed into the punch to give it an increased mass. Desmond merely cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow towards the younger man.


"What the fuck do you want, kid? Don't you see I'm trying to go forth and sow some seeds." Desmond stated aloud, puffing out his chest and keeping his eyes trained on the female officer. "Anyway, I know an all you can eat buffet that might suit you, sweetcheeks." He immediately turned his full attention away from the young captain. Which prompted the female to pull up her rifle and fire on him.

Reaching out with his right hand he'd backhand the bullet away, watching it slam into the face of another officer who was apart of the crowd that tried to surround him.

This action prompted an immediate reaction from the young captain, whose eyes narrowed quickly as he rushed Desmond once more, calling out orders to his men. "Everyone retreat, they have hardening busoshoku, our reports were wrong!" His crew normally would have obeyed his order, but they knew that he had a massive ego and a hero streak. So none immediately ran away, some didn't even know that a form of armament haki surpassed basic enhancement.

Instead a great deal of his crew decided to rush towards the man, though all he did was unbutton his shirt and reveal his exposed upper body. Which was now fully covered in jet black gloss. He shimmered for a moment as bullets came raining upon him and swords went skirting across his skin as though they were made of plastic, much to the enemy captain's surprise. He'd throw a punch, only for his fist to be caught mid swing.

"Don't get sad. They call me Big Dirty because I look like I've been stained with so much dirt and muck that I turned black." Within a moment Desmond began to crush the poor captain's hand with his own.

"Bet you thought it was cause I'm a pervert. Yeah, nice try bud. But I've been rocking haki longer than my captain. Let me show you why I deserve more than a 12,000,000 million berry bounty." He'd flick his wrist outward, utilizing his overbearing strength, causing the enemy captain to get slung outwards before he'd pull him forward.

"Wimp Mutilation~."

Using his haki, he'd pull the captain into a lariat, causing the entire skull of his enemy to crack as though it were an antique vase. The resulting attack left the enemy leader on the ground bleeding out of every facial orifice that he had. While Desmond flexed his muscles towards his enemies. Growing a gleeful expression upon his face, he'd charge forward. Moving rather fast, throwing his shoulder into a tackle.  "Testosterone Torpedo!!"

As a result he mowed down a great deal of individuals that stood before him. Leaving their corpses as nothing more than stains on upon the deck.

The maneuver was enough for Brood to raise an eyebrow towards his haki-abusing friend. Surprised that the man did something other than throw out the exact same lariat with differing name. Perhaps Desmond was actually starting to take this Pirate shit seriously. It certainly brought a smile to Brood's usually stoic face. His eldest friend in this world was putting in work. Now was the time to witness the fruits of his labor.

Desmond looked with disappointment as he checked the corpses of his victims that he had just mowed down. Noting that the pretty lady was amongst them. Smacking himself on the forehead, he looked over towards the remaining defenders and cracked his knuckles. Many decided to hop overboard, though others decided to charge towards him in some last ditch effort to survive against his onslaught. Though they miscalculated an essential aspect of Desmond's personality.

The man was an absolute glutton for punishment. Though not for himself. This was showcased in a flash. He ran through the remainder of his opponents with ease. For Desmond it was the same as playing with wet toilet paper. He was starting to realize why Brood kept talking about leaving the Blues. Shit was much harder back when they were in the Grandline. This felt like bullying, which wasn't really something that Desmond found to be fun.

Having a child with that lady he accidently turned into roadkill would have been fun. But oh well.

He took the time to start dragging all the corpses over towards one another. Piling them up high so that he could garner a good vantage point out over the rest of the battles. The new members weren't on his level beyond Erudite. That bitch was scary. But he could survey the abilities of the others from up here. Though something odd caught his eye.

In the distance he could see a ship being bombarded from every angle and within the rising smoke and flames stood one Jackson Makarov.

Looked like he finished his task just after they did. Though it still took him longer. Must have been cause he wasn't as strong.

{ 1,368 | 4,659 | 5000 }

Tag Order


Brood's color: #4F94AE - Laugh: Eeeheheheh!
Erudite's color: #75ca9b - Laugh: Splishlishlish!
Desmond's color: #9900ff - Laugh: Pervavava!
Jackson's color: #840a35 - Laugh: Dieyiyiyi!
Sunflower's color: #d98301 - Laugh: Slashuashuashu!
Peytor's color: #bb8598 - Laugh: Businessnessness!
by Brood
on Sun Jan 31, 2021 10:50 pm
Search in: Notice
Replies: 72
Views: 1489



Brood overlooked the progress of each of his potential crewmates, taking some time for himself while sitting comfortably against the railing of the Dead Air. He himself knew that he'd have to take out whatever strong entities lurked further within the island, especially if a blockage of this scope and magnitude presented itself to his crew this early. This was not going to be your average take-over. This place was reinforced.

He knew from his own miniscule information network that Notice had weak defenses and that comparatively he should have been able to ransack this place with little to no resistance. Yet here he was, peering out over what appeared to be a warzone. He knew that his individual commanders would be enough to get past this opposing group. Yet he allowed the Dead Air to get closer regardless. His grunts needed a workout after-all.

Taking a swig of his pitcher of Glögg, a spiced wine that his crew picked up on an unnamed island while on their way here, Brood began to slip into his roll as strategist. In his mind everything grew slower. His enemies were represented by O's and his own team was represented by X's. He'd lean his head to the left and then back to the right, paying attention to the various actions of not only his commanders, but of his fodder.

Once the Dead Air was in range enough for the rest of his crew to start making leaps aboard all of the other nearby vessels, Brood's expression became deadpan. Causing him to reach out and grab one of his men by the wrist before blinking slowly. "Tell two dozen men to stay aboard the ship. We will be boarded shortly." With that command he released his mobster-like underling, who nodded in a panicked sweat before complying.

Erudite found her smug expression swelling with an understated pride as she whipped her water whips outwards towards those foes who presented themselves to her. She moved as though she was participating in a ballet of death, moving with a mixture of gracefulness and aggression that wasn't easily pulled off by most corsairs upon these high seas. Yet she did so with all of the skill and vigor of a woman possessed.

Her foes were completely at her mercy as she crashed the cold briny blue into their ribs, launching them across the deck and over railings, her movements showcasing a melodic and dream-like oppression of those who got into her way. At least, until she felt a pang of pain thumping from her right shoulder. She'd reach out to touch it, dropping her control over her water whips. This allowed for the water to flood against the deck.

Such a lack of concentration causing most to become unbalanced as she checked her wound. Her eyes zipped around the area until it rested upon the man that unleashed hot lead into her. Given his dress and confident, he must have been the Captain of this here vessel. "Ouch. Now that went an' actually scratched me. Who might you be, sugah?" She called out with a seductive voice and a wiry smile begetting her feminine facial features.

"Round here they calls me Captain Goingud and it makes not a hair or tails of a difference what you try to do ma'am. You're fixin' ta' die here." He spat some chewing Tabaco out of his mouth onto the floor. The figure would reach down towards his pocket and pull out a cigar, placing it into his mouth and lighting it up. Taking slow puffs upon it as he trained his weapons onto the fishman warrior. Erudite took a moment to size up the soon-to-be crippled marine.

Her enemy was formidable, but not overly so. Being six feet and three inches tall, sporting a muscular build. He wore the standard marine issued outfit, though he had spurs on his boots and white hat that looked similar to a cowboys. His eyes were emerald in color and his face was chiseled with a five o'clock shadow for a beard. A salmon skinned brunette wielding a pair of revolvers that seemed to be gold plated.

"Ooo.~ That is quite a shame, splishlishlish. I reckon yous ain't gon' to live to see th-" She found herself cut off when a bullet came soaring near her face. It was an accurate shot, though she managed to move her head out of the way long before the bullet made it's target. "We ain't got no time fer all dat.." He chided her for taking her attention off the battle with conversation. Though she retorted regardless of the threat.

"Giddy up then, cowboy~" She didn't give the man much time to react as she reached for her hip and swung out her leather instrument towards his right wrist. Catching him, she rolled her leg so that she could use the weight of her rather sizable thighs to press down on the binding instrument. Causing enough force to jerk the marine forward towards her, offsetting his balance momentarily. Following up with a swing of her second whip to try and cut his throat.

Utilizing what little Rokushiki the man had, he was able to lift himself off the ground using Soru, evading the attack and breaking free of her whips grasp for a brief moment. She glared despite her smile, finding herself leaping around as a hail of gunfire rained down upon her. it seemed that he wasn't using a high caliber weapon, since the bullets couldn't rip through the deck of the ship itself. something that she noted while evading most of the incoming hellfire. Though she found her left leg and right arm taking damage.

She had too much pride in her to wince, however. Taking her time to pay attention to how her opponent shot his guns. It seemed as though his weapons held in them a great deal of recoil. For every time he shot at her, he seemed to have his arm jerk up, giving him a window in which he had to readjust to fire the next of his pistols. It was through this window of time that she managed to break through an otherwise mighty guard. Using her ability to make water malleable, she threw up the water in a burst to obscure  his vision.

She'd find herself crouching low, springing upwards and tossing both of her whips out to cut through the water momentarily. One rope went around his neck, the other around his right ankle. With the binding in place, she manage to leap up so high that she overtook his maximum height. Rotating on the core of her body's center of gravity, moving her own axis with enough speed to generate the momentum needed to drag the enemy captain into the air, she allowed him to go soring up above him. If only for a moment.

Using all of her might, generated by her rotation, she send the man soaring back down towards the ship as though he had become a meteor right. Given that she was naturally physically strong due to her race on top of this and it was no wonder that the ship capsized the moment that the enemy Captain found himself being flung into the deck of the ship. She was starting to realize what exactly Brood meant now when he told the crew they needed to go to the Grandline. She overwhelmed this man with little effort of her own.

She'd land atop the sinking vessel moments afterwards, waiting for her opponent to resurface. But the only thing that floated up was his porcelain hat. Reaching into the water, she took the object and set it upon her head. Looking towards the depths below. She was right to assume he died. The man's neck broke the moment his head made impact with the sturdy deck. It was an unfortunate circumstance to be sure.,, if she was empathetic. Luckily, she wasn't. With a smile on her face, she'd look over to see what the other's did. Locking eyes with Desmond as he sat upon a mountain of slumped over bodies...

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Tag Order


Brood's color: #4F94AE - Laugh: Eeeheheheh!
Erudite's color: #75ca9b - Laugh: Splishlishlish!
Desmond's color: #9900ff - Laugh: Pervavava!
Jackson's color: #840a35 - Laugh: Dieyiyiyi!
Sunflower's color: #d98301 - Laugh: Slashuashuashu!
Peytor's color: #bb8598 - Laugh: Businessnessness!
by Brood
on Thu Jan 21, 2021 2:08 pm
Search in: Notice
Replies: 72
Views: 1489



Brood took only a brief moment to peer towards Seraphina. His face didn't change, but he spoke to her through non-verbal communication that was trained up to such a high level due to the closeness he held to her. Good luck, Phi... Despite the situation at hand, he was not wishing her luck because of this opening act, but this was the first time in which he was going to have her acting as his official first mate.

He wanted her to not get overwhelmed and in Brood's absence she was the one that everyone was going to look towards for guidance. To that end, all he wanted was for the woman to feel the sheer weight placed on her shoulders. The crew was her burden to bare. At any rate, he thought of the rest of his crew after taking his eyes off his woman. Something that he wouldn't have done normally.

Oh yeah, that mute bitch won't be able to do anything because she is literally weaker than our attack dogs. Better fix that. Brood narrowed his eyes in anguish as he looked upon his supposed crew members, supposed due to the fact that if they failed this test then they would be asked to leave. Perhaps he could find someone that fit his crew better should they prove to be more nuisance than ally.

The time to worry about such details had long since passed, however. He swallowed the pain of witnessing the homoerotic display by his two furry mink friends. He had come up with the best plan for everyone to showcase their strengths perfectly. "Grumble Drop." That was all he needed to say in order to cause his beloved crewmates to whip themselves up into a frenzy.

The crew seemed to run around frantically as they aimed the canons, with Brood walking over towards the young Leyla and extending his arm towards her. If she took it, he'd grab her and quickly toss her across the sea, so that she'd land on one of the several ships out in the distance.  Meanwhile, the rest of his lieutenants found themselves ready to carry out his simple order.

Desmond, Erudite and Jack each began to stroll towards the railings, leaping off the edge of the vessel right as each of the cannons fired their artillery. All three going in their own separate directions and all three of them arriving in their own unique way, showcasing their distinctive personalities whole they fly over the vast blue ocean and towards their enemies. It didn't matter if the enemy ships where making evasive maneuvers, their clock was running out.

Erudite Graves, The Hangwoman, overlooked the ocean beneath her with utter indifference. As she rode across the ocean itself she held out both of her hands as though she was stretching them out for a hug. She thought of the water below and felt the heartbeat of the ocean thump to life at her behest. She'd raise her hands upwards, causing the water to rise up like two pillars as she neared her destination.

"Typical nonsense." She spoke in her usual condescending manner. Raising both hands high over her head and clapping her palms together, the two spiraling pillars rose upwards and collided against one another.

She'd then swing her hands forward, launching the massive whip of water towards the vessel that she approached, causing the water to explode upon the hull, washing away several grunts and tossing them off from port to starboard.

Peering towards her foes, she found herself amused by the forces that scrambled to sail out here and conflict against her crew. By the time she landed, leaping off the cannonball as it slammed into the waters nearby, she already had her trust whip in hand.

She'd look around at the forces that assembled before her... and she was... surprised. If what Brood said earlier was to be believed, these were supposed to be local forces that caught wind of the Primetime Pirates' arrival. However she could clearly see that there were Marines here... was this island controlled by the World Government? And if so, why the hell did her Captain not inform her ahead of time.

Gritting her teeth, she could do little to ward off the smile that crept up on her face. "Ladies and Gentlemen, you're just in time to watch the spectacle. Front row seats to the end of your lives."

The rapturous laughter that seemed to fill the sky belonged to none other than Big Dirty Desmond Wilkz. His rambunctious nature was symbolized wonderfully the moment his visage was showcased coming over that horizon.

He didn't even bother to stand on the mortar, choosing instead to squat upon it as though he was some sort of yakuza. He salivated at the mouth, eyes growing veins in them as he felt his need for being the dominant chad in the room grow within his very being. He knew that he'd gain everything that he wanted so long as he killed the most enemies and won his fight.

A task that was likely easier for himself than it would be for most of his comrades. Especially due to the fact that he wasn't hindered by any sense of morality. "Whomever is head of this vessel, show yourself. Or don't, won't matter when you're dead."

Landing on all fours, he showcased his fangs towards the closest men to him and began to charge mercilessly at the largest of them, stretching out his arm, a great deal of wind pressure formed around his arm before he swing forward with all his might, clotheslining the air and sending forth a massive gust of wind that would crash into the larger individual and send him flying into a crowd of subordinates.

Desmond would holler, like a beast let off its leash, beating on his chest as his entire livelihood became apparent. "Ah shit, no ladies on this vessel?! What kind of bullshit is that?? Huuuh?? Oh well, guess you guys will have to suffice to satisfy me now. " He was feeling it deep inside of himself. The feeling of hellacious ecstasy.

He knew that he could cut loose and go wild here and now. Destroying any and everyone that got in his way.

Jackson Makarov, the so called 'Representative of Death', found himself praying in complete silence in the same manner as highly-spiritual monks. He was one in a way, especially given the fact that he saw himself as being enlightened to the whims of death.

A shepherd to a flock that needed to be guided into the infinite black, into the eternal frost. The though would bring a smile to his face if he were someone suffering from some sort of mental disorder. But he took no pleasure in his role, nor was he opposed to it. He was merely a tool, carrying out his task with ruthless efficiency.

His methodology wasn't elegant but the results where memorable. He was calm, like a cold and calculated serial killer. He could see that most if not all of the opposition here had finally ran out of time. "....."

His focus was intense, he knew that the lost souls that had gathered here before him were about to be given an amazing gift. Deliverance from existence. If he could showcase excitement he would, alas that was not his own fate. Instead, he crossed his arms and reached for the dynamite that was holstered on his sides.

His unique method of bringing forth the end of life was to utilize a unique chemical that ignited the dynamite whenever the rip cord was taken out of the sticks. That way, he could use the dynamite like a makeshift flail and have it explode at his own behest.

Such a method gave a bit of skill to his maneuvers, but for the most part he was capable of defending himself properly at all ranges due to the unique construction of his munitions. It was this ability that allowed him to leap off the device, swing the dynamite, use it like a rope and swing onto the ship.

He said nothing, but his eyes spoke louder than his words ever could. It was as clear as crystal now more than ever, their time had come. ".....Come."

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Tag Order


Brood's color: #4F94AE
Erudite's color: #75ca9b
Desmond's color: #9900ff
Jackson's color: #840a35
Sunflower's color: #d98301
Peytor's color: #bb8598

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