Stars fall out of the skies, words turn into lies.
MARINE
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Jan 22, 2016 4:57:20 GMT 7
Post by Maybird Gremlin on Jan 22, 2016 4:57:20 GMT 7
For some reason, Squad 11 was called to Cactus Island as well. Down in the hold, the C.R.A.T.E. was wide open as Seaman Maybird Gremlin was trying to get ready for inspection. There was the chance she had to go ashore, far away from her weapons so she had to select her gear now before she went up for Morning formation. Her uniform was sharp on on point. The colors and whites brighter than most, because she did her own laundry. For some reason, when she scrubbed clothing they came out cleaner. Seaman Mayes suggested it was because of her ports. Could the Power of Oxygen really make brights brighter and whites whiter? She would have to test that next time she did the laundry for the entire crew. Because she was going to be walking out with two Destroya Pieces, she did not even bother wrapping the other ports. Her uniform was slightly modified so that she had access to the ports in ehr chest, shoulders, thighs, calves, and feet. Each three inch hole could be completely seen through.
She had some choices to select from. She could only take two, but what two? She could take the missile pods, but that would only give her sixteen shots. And when they were out she only had her port blast. Double Double barrels? That would be a lot of suppresion fire, but she had no big blow attacks in case of giants. Then there was two Destroya Cannons. Heavy power but she would lack the suppression fire capabilities. Mix and match would be a good compromise. She already ruled out the missile pods for now, but one Double barrel and on Cannon would work, Turning around, one of the large 2 m cannons attached through her left chest port. The black peg pushed through her chest to the other side and twisted to lock itself in place before detaching from the wall of her C.R.A.T.E. With it hanging behind her like a cape, she moved her right arm over and the double barrel attached through her forearm and secured itself in the same manner, Barrels rotating around to point up her arm instead of an armed and firing position down past her hands. With weapons in place, she straightened her tie and gave her pigtails a twist to make sure the bolts were on tight.
She then heard the whistle call that announced time for Formation. They had to be close. Walking up the stairs to the deck, she hustled to her position in formation towards the rear and stood at attention. Normally one of her height would be up front, but her cannon had a way of blocking the path behind her. Lesson learned from first armed drill on the sea. |
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Jan 22, 2016 5:42:55 GMT 7
Post by Hunter Tarot on Jan 22, 2016 5:42:55 GMT 7
Hunter had had no time to be excited or intrigued about the fact that the Squad was now in the Grand Line. He had been told to be armed and ready in case he was to go ashore, and, in response, the white-haired marine had went back to his bunk and began doing a impromptu check on Temperance. He disassembled the musket at a speed that many of the others seemed to find impressive, checking over every little part of the firearm to make sure it was in tip-top condition, and then promptly reassembled it. In his mind, he felt immense pride in his creation. If he played his cards right, with the materials he used in making the Temperance, the musket would last until he had grandchildren. Well... IF he were ever to have grandchildren. After checking on Temperance, Hunter made sure that every piece of his uniform was on correctly and slipped on his signature circular sunglasses and navy blue newsboy cap. In his own opinion, he thought he looked rather fetching, as much as a 27-year old white haired low-ranking Marine male could.
As he reached for one of his rolls of boxing tape, and began taping up his hands, the chief gunner couldn't help but let his mind wander. Hunter's brain wandered to how his mentor back on Baterilla was doing, what kind of gun would he build in celebration for the squad's first excursion into the Grand Line, and, finally, as to why they had been called to Cactus Island in the first place. It wasn't really his place to question orders, but he had heard something about flyers promising prizes to winning competitors, but he wasn't entirely certain that captain Frederic or the marines were very interested in potentially meager rewards from some small competition. Though, with Frederic, it was sometimes hard to guess his exact motivations. What he figured was more likely, was that they were being called to investigate and apprehend any pirates and criminals that had answered the summons in the flyers.
As Hunter finished taping up his hands, he slung Temperance over his left shoulder and his satchel on his right. The satchel contained all of his vital tools and ammo, so there wasn't much of a chance of him leaving it behind. He could hear mechanical noises (ex. clanging, cycling, etc.) coming from the hold, so he knew that the ship's chief shipwright was busy picking out her 'wardrobe' for the mission. No doubt everyone else was finishing up their preparations as well. Pretty much as soon as he stood up from his bunk, the whistle that called all the on-board marines for roll call sounded. Hunter made his way at a decent pace out of the bunks, and onto the deck of the ship and stood near the center of the gathered marines, as he was only about average height.
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Jan 22, 2016 23:46:02 GMT 7
Post by Kevin Marley on Jan 22, 2016 23:46:02 GMT 7
As per usual, Kevin was up much earlier than really required for him to perform various morning duties, both assigned and otherwise. He silently went about cleaning or prepping various parts of the ship until the sun finally rose high enough to warrant the disciplined rousing of the other crew. Some proud and praise-seeking part of him wanted to say that he did all this as part of his guise of the dutiful and hardworking marine, but it simply want true. In reality it was because the robotic boy simply didn't sleep, or at least not in the same way normal people do anyway. The extra time this afforded him often left him fairly bored. His newly assigned crew and ship was smaller than usual which meant the amount of work required to maintain the ship was also less, but he worked just as hard all the same(much to the pleasure of the few of his crewmates who were afforded extra time because of it).
Not everything was following routine though. Though it had not been explicitly stated, everyone of Squad 11 could tell what assignment had been given to them. How could they not? After the mass spread rumors and flyers about cactus island had been followed by their sudden and unorthodox dispatch to the Grand Line, only an idiot wouldn't put two and two together. Though his actions did not show it, Kevin was more than excited by the idea of going to Cactus Island. All kinds of curious questions bubbled up from his mind like: What kind of interesting people would the 'competition' entice to appear? Who was bold and powerful enough to so widely announce the competition without World Government approval?
The whistle of morning roll call woke the boy from his mind. Was it that time already? He quickly set down his cleaning tools and trotted to the main deck. Kevin's position in the formation was fairly obvious considering he was one of youngest and smallest of the crew. He stood giddily but formally at the front, the perfect picture of a young soldier... were it not for those bright yellow rubber gloves he seemingly forgot to take off his hands.
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Don't have time for halfass Marines. Step up or shove off. Ha ha!
MARINE
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Jan 25, 2016 2:07:58 GMT 7
Post by Fredric F. Ferdinand on Jan 25, 2016 2:07:58 GMT 7
| [attr="class","yes"]The captain of the unit sat comfortably in his quarters, legs kicked up and resting on his desk. Arms rest on his stomach as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling with a smile on his face. His crew's first outing into the Grand Line. He was sure that for many of them this was their first time sailing outside of the four blues. Fortunately their navigator was experienced enough to navigate the unique environment that is the Grand Line. This meant he that it would be relatively smooth sailing and give him some peace of mind. He worried about some of the fresh blood assigned to his unit, those wide eyed hopeful sorts usually proving to be more of an obstacle than an asset. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the pathetic cries of lesser men as they faced the dangers of the Grand Line. This would certainly be helpful in weeding out the weeds from the wheat.
BUDUP BUDUP BUDUP BUDUP
Eyes slowly opened at the familiar sound, eyes slowly drifting over to the paint spattered dark skinned snail on his desk. Long arm reached over and picked off the microphone, bringing it close to his mouth before speaking. "What is it?" He sat quietly and allowed the report to be given, an excited smile creeping across his face as he was told they were nearing their destination. "Very well. Maintain speed and hold the course. And tell the lookouts to stay sharp. Tell em' that if a pirate gets the jump on us I'll use their teeth as grapeshot." Clicking the microphone back onto the side of the snail he slowly stood himself up, grunting slightly as he stretched his back. He then snatched up his captain's jacket from the back of his chair and the whistle on the desk.
The jacket draped over his shoulders as he made his way to the deck, nodding to the many Marines going about their duties. He didn't bother forcing them to salute his presence, a simple nod of acknowledgement being all that was necessary. Better they keep their hands where they're needed than waste time kissing his ass. Steps stopped at his designated position as he brought the whistle to his mouth, a sharp blow causing it to emit a high pitched noise that traveled throughout the ship. Immediately the area before him filled with sailors, all of them lining up and standing at attention. A few specific faces caught his attention, some sailors who had shown exceptional amounts of potential in is eye. Of course the two cyborgs were of particular interest, especially as they each showed different sides of the technology. One girl almost more machine than human, the other one still holding fast to what humanity they had left. And then of course his new chief gunner, the white haired lad all geared up and ready for battle. He folded his arms across his chest chest, nodding in approval to the sight before him.
"Good response time, sailors. Keep this up and I may not make you sleep on the floor tonight!" He let out a hearty laugh, clearly amused by his own teasing. Though anyone who had been on the ship for long at all knew these playful jests of his were serious warnings. As anyone who laughed with him would soon find out. Clapping his hands together and rubbing them together he gave the crew one more look over. "A lot of new blood here! Firstly, let me welcome you all to the Grand Line! I believe this is some of you folk's first time here, right? I'm sure you've all heard the stories of the glory and riches it houses. Though more importantly I'm hoping you heard of the perilous dangers we'll find here. Because that's what matters to us. We aren't pirates. We aren't here for glory, wealth or power. We're here to snuff out the threats to the innocents. Leave the wealth to those stupid enough to risk their lives for it! We're here for a higher purpose. Don't forget that, sailors."
With that spiel out of the way he gave them all a toothy grin, a hand moving up to adjust his glasses. "Of course, that doesn't mean we can't have fun doing it! And today I have a special treat for you. Think of it as a commemoration of our first time in the Grand Line as a unit. But I'll save that surprise for the appropriate time." Hands moved into his pockets, foot tapping slowly as he watched the crew for reactions. "Given many of you are still getting your feet wet, I'll cut you guys a break. We'll be arriving at our destination very soon. Anyone here got any questions for your captain?" His smile softened, a curious look in his eye as he scanned their faces. He was curious how many would think he was joking at this point.
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LAIKA OF GS! [newclass=.yes b]color:#7a664d;[/newclass]
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