Grand Voyage- Log 9

Log 9: Harbinger Island, Part 2
“Marines,” cried a young man with short-cropped white hair, that nearly fell over his eyes, “are the only truly good people on this Earth!”

The young man wore a simple Marine’s seaman uniform over his almost paper-white skin. His red eyes glared fiercely as the small group of Marines who stood around him cheered at his declaration. He took a deep breath, then continued.

“Everyone else, every human on this Earth, are nothing but SCUM! The Marines are god, prophet, and angel of death, all rolled into one holy package! And it is our duty, no, our RIGHT, to destroy those who sin! We are the only ones fit to live on this Earth!”

“Still going on about that?” came a voice from the Marine’s right. The albino marine turned, facing another young man about his age, with wild, spiky blue hair, wearing a simple blue t-shirt with a opened up white dress shirt, as well as some jeans and sandals.

“Oh,” the albino said, sneering, “it’s you again, Sid.”

“Just stop this, Coco,” Sid Cheney replied, “or do you want my father to know you’re doing more than rousing the troops out of hand?”

“I’m just saying the truth~,” Coco drawled, rolling his tongue around in his mouth, “but of course, a lap dog like yourself wouldn’t believe it.”

“Hardly,” Sid countered, “I just know insanity when I see it.”

Tension filled the air as the two young men glared at each other. After several seconds, Coco turned away, throwing his hands up into the air, and placing them behind his head. “Disband for today, men,” he said. The Marines who followed him grumbled and quickly began leaving the area.

Sid watched carefully as Coco walked towards a small door on the side of the room, where the albino paused, then turned his head around, smiling sinisterly at Sid. With that, he walked out and closed the door.

“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!” Knave and D’Artagnan cried, as their ship sailed past the storm clouds, and was now descending at a rapid rate. Tears of comical sorrow ran down their faces as the ship smashed into the sea, submerging the two pirates, before righting itself. Silence filled the air, as a sudden calm came about the area.

Art groaned as he pulled himself onboard, dragging a now groggy (and soaked) Knave with him. Plopping his captain on deck, Art rolled onboard himself, finally stopping several feet away from his captain, panting and still dripping.

With several seconds, the two of them fell into a deep sleep, as their ship, now no longer steered or monitored, began moving wherever the waves pulled it...

“Geppo!”

Captain Falstaff Cheney leaped into the air, his powerful muscles straining as he bounded off the air itself, propelling him towards the very pinnacle of the Marine base on Harbinger Island.

Landing on the sloped roof, the Captain made sure to dig his feet in. Sure, it would leave imprints, but better to have small foot shaped imprints on the roof than a Captain-shaped imprint on the ground below. As an added precaution, Falstaff also kept his hand gripped around the pole that held the Marine flag upright.

He usually came here this time of day, to look over the whole island, to take it all in. It was soothing to his tired soul, and helped him get his mind off the more arduous tasks a Marine officer was expected to accomplish. He closed his eyes, allowing the breeze to pull his hair back slightly...

“Are you going out again, Falstaff?” his wife asked, her violet eyes showing deep concern for her husband’s well being.

''“Yeah,” he replied, a bit gruffly, “they sent me another assignment. I’m to build a base on this new island they found. Conveniently placed too.”''

“And you’re taking Sid with you?”

“Yep.”

''“Well.... be careful.”''

The Captain shook his head. No time to dwell on the past. Glancing downward, he spotted a commotion below...

“I’LL F*CKING KILL YOU, SID!” one of the more burly Marines in the base yelled, bringing his fist down towards the Captain’s son.

“Kami-e,” Sid said calmly, as his body snapped to one side, allowing the blow to fly harmlessly past him, colliding with another unfortunate Marine.

“Hey, what was that for?!”

“Sorry! I was aiming for-”

“Aiming for what? A little lower?”

“No, I mean-”

And then a full out brawl started. While chaos erupted, Sid walked calmly through the now brawling masses, reaching a small locked locker. He bent down over it, looking at the lock’s keyhole. Was it to be finesse, or....?

“Shigan.” With a shot from Sid’s finger, the lock was shattered, allowing the locker to swing open. The teen quickly selected some choice magazines, then stood up and began making his way outside once again.

“Tekkai!” Falstaff cried as he leaped off the roof, flying down to where he judged his son would be in several seconds. And, true to his predictions, his son was there, walking away and whistling casually as his father made impact.

“GRUGH!” Sid cried as his father’s feet plowed into his back, sending them crashing to the ground, a dust cloud filling the air. As it cleared, Sid lay several feet away from his father, groaning and rubbing his back, while the Captain was simply sitting where he had landed, laughing his head off.

“Good, good Sid!” Captain Cheney guffawed, “you’re getting better at activating Tekkai by instinct!”

“But you don’t have to try to break my spine to do it!” Sid snapped, glaring at his father, whilst standing up and dusting himself off.

“The ends justify the means,” Falstaff said, dusting himself off as well, “your Rokushiki training is coming along-” He suddenly spotted the magazines that Sid was clenching tightly in one hand. “AHA!” Moving with blinding speed, he snatched them out of his son’s hands.

“Dad!” Sid cried in anguish, “give ‘em back!”

“So THAT was what all the chaos back in the quarters was about,” the Captain laughed evilly, “you just go do border patrol, Sid.”

“Border patrol?! But I-”

“Rankyaku!”

Sid’s father lashed out with a foot, releasing a compressed energy blade at least twice the size of his son, who paled in fear as it moved rapidly towards him.

“Okay, I’m going!” Sid cried, quickly running towards the “shore” of Harbinger Island.

On the shore, the Shooting Star gently sailed into a small space between two of the more spiky rocks. The tide had thankfully subsided a bit for the time being, so only minute waves were splashing against the ship’s hull.

On it’s deck, two pirates who looked more like dead fish than actual people lay...

~End of Log~

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