Finally, it was done. Gil had a condensed serum that he had derived from Jackal's blood. It had taken most of the night, but here it was. A mostly clear liquid which he held in a sphere in his right hand. Gil released some of the binding he had on Bazil's wounds and pressed the liquid against it, massaging it into the affected area. His left hand moved to the man's chest, compressing it to mimic a heart beat. Slowly, Gil artificially circulated the cure around his body. And with this motion, the blue discolouration that signified the venom's grip on Bazil's body slowly wained. It had been hard work, but somehow, he had managed to pull this win out of the hat.

Resting for a moment and letting his mind wander, his black eyes wandered to the window, seeing the first red streaks of dawn begin to bring the sky from it's dark slumber. A soft thump hit the cobbles outside. That would be the morning paper. He went to collect it, a quick flick in and out would bring the rolled paper inside. Unfurling it, Gil would absorb the contents. The marines that had swarmed the island now had full grasp of the media. Every second headline was now some pro World Government propaganda about how the marines had come in some kind of divine crusade against the heathens which threatened them. Every tragedy was an excuse to reinforce the idea that the people needed the marines.

A new batch of wanted posters. Sifting through them he saw familiar faces. The 'Warhead' that lay on his bed now was worth even more millions of beli to the World Government. A description of his bloody transgressions listed below. From all of this to the stories told to him by the folks in Nanohana, it was hard to imagine this man to be anything but the demon that he had been depicted to be. Manic laughter and indiscriminate slaughter. He certainly seemed like he was missing a nut or two. It concerned him that Jackal had gone to such trouble to associate with this character. Gil would return to the bed, leaving a large glass of water and a sack of dried fruit, nuts and a bar of chocolate on the coffee table next to him. He would then move to the sink, turning the tap on and covering himself in as much water as he could hold while gripping it close to his body with pisces paladin. In part this was a bath to wash off the sweat of his labour, and also as a back up. If this really was a madman that he had saved, then it would be naive to confront him without being armed. He would pull up a stool and watch the sunrise as it filtered over the sleeping man, each ragged breath pulling him further away from death's door.

-----

A few hours later, Bazil would be in a good enough state to where he would be in a natural sleep. He would be fatigued, but nothing that a good sleep and good nutrition wouldn't fix. "Oi. Time to wake up kiddo. Eat and drink all of it. Your body needs it after the night you've had." Gil would throw a cushion at the man's head from his position on the stool a few metres away. Gil would be examining Bazil closely to see how he responded. "I want to ask you a few questions about your future. Marines are crawling this island. What exactly do you intend to do going forward?"

skills: pisces paladin
doriki: +3 speed

Bazil’s eyes slowly opened, his mind groggy and disoriented, turning his head about slowly as his vision took a second to catch up, creating a dragging image effect. Blinking rapidly, the pirate rubbed his eyes and sat up squinting at the blurry figure that spoke out to him, his eyes adjusting to the light allowing the pirate to get a good glimpse, “Ahhh fuck..” Bazil mumbled as he buried his face into his hands, “Not again..” He grumbled, checking the left side of his abdomen for an incision, “Sheww, I don’t think I could spare the other one.” The pirate sighed in relief, his eyes now fixated on the food that sat on the table next to him, quickly tearing open the candy bar and wedging it in between his razor sharp teeth, as soon as he turned back to the creature that sat across the room, a pillow slapped him square in the face.

Dumbfounded, Bazil stared blankly for a moment, processing what had just happened before hearing the monster speak to him once more. Before responding, the Red Devil casually knocked the pillow off the floor and held out his hand, a flamethrower nozzle jutting from his palm, and set the feathered pillow on fire. Looking back up to the pillow tosser, “There, now you have one less fucking pillow, happy fuck face?” Bazil asked rhetorically, “As for what I want to do…” he paused, “Pretty much whatever the fuck I wanna do.” He said laughing maliciously, “Now, I gotta ask, why the fuck do you look like that? Was there like an accident or something..?” The words could be barely be made as he inhaled the rest of the food that had been laid out down his throat like a vacuum.

Despite preparing for anything, the pure abrasiveness of Bazil's attitude unbalanced him. Not that he required or wanted any code of manner from anyone, but it was the seemingly senseless decision to equip every word with a razor's edge. He went from asleep to groggy to laughing to ravenous in the space of a minute. He had spirit, that much was clear. But Gilbard's problem was that he reckoned that this man's attitude may become something of a problem in the not so distant future. However he now doubted his own ability to talk sense.

Getting up from the chair, Gil walked over to the now flaming cushion and stepped on it, putting it out with a puff of steam. "I've heard a lot. Not just from the papers, but from the people. It seems like you've been getting up to a lot of mischief. The sort of mischief that has caused a lot of people a lot of pain." Gil briefly brought his hands together and clasped them, bowing his head as he acknowledged the souls that would find their way beyond the silver sprays. Despite what one may assume, Gil didn't object to the way Bazil took life. Even though as a doctor it was his job to reverse injury, he didn't personally condemn the perpetrators. Gil wondered why from time to time. Maybe it was the view of life that had been instilled in him during his time in the conclave. The chaotic age that they lived in would always find a way to indiscriminately reap life. And in turn, life would reemerge, repairing and regrowing. That meant that souls like Bazil could be considered part of a metaphysical ecosystem akin to the idea of 'balance'.

No, the issue that Gil had was something much smaller and much more local. It was that he was causing trouble that he and Jackal would have to deal with. "The marines are swarming the island. You won't even be able to take one step outside this building without having that famous face of yours shot at. Your actions in part have lead to this. The World Government has responded with force. If you keep going, the situation will keep escalating." Gil sighed. "Jackal seems to like you for some reason. Don't cause trouble for him, will you?"

skills: pisces paladin

The creature stamped out the small fire and proceeded to fire more questions at the young pirate, clearly curious about his motives and actions. At first, Bazil ignored these inquiries, prioritizing the consumption of food over silly banter with a very odd looking creature. Finishing up, he chugged the entire glass of water in seconds, not pausing to take a breath until he had finished. “From my experience, all humans cause pain.” Bazil responded, his voice was uncharacteristically quiet and soft, lacking the edge his personality tends to bring about, for a single moment, he almost seemed humanized. He looked up and noticed the creature bowing his head, his hands held firmly together, “The fuck are you doing?” He asked, essentially shattering the image of an emotional venerable Bazil.

“As for the fuckin marines, if they get in my way ill just fuckin kill em, aint worried abit bout them.” Bazil barked, clearly having returned to his usually abrasive and arrogant self. “They can try all they like to shoot this pretty face, my gun’s always gonna be bigger.” He added, grabbing his junk with his left hand grinning that wide toothy smile of his. Bazil rose to his feet, his legs slightly shaking, grabbing the glass he walked over to the sink and filled it to the brim, guzzling down the entire thing once more. “Ahhhh” He said refreshed, “by the way.'' pausing, “Who the fuck is Jackal?” The pirates face dumbfounded once again, not recognizing the name of his savior.

Gilbard wasn't sure if the man was arrogant or just plain naive. He talked as if he could simply get up and walk out of the shelter, take a pleasant stroll down main street, maybe smoke some marines and be home for an early tea. "He's the mink that brought you in here. He gave you much of his blood, well, more or less. And I am Gilbard." Gil walked over to the window. People would be up and about soon. But the marine lookouts and checkpoints would have kept going all through the night. Maybe Bazil's best chance of escape would be to blend in to the morning crowd. The quiet morning hid the tension that permeated the city.

"You're a fool to think that you can solve the challenge of the World Government with brute force alone. I could care less of your disregard for your own life, but I ask for some consideration of the future. Your recklessness will mean trouble for all of us. I intend to avoid that trouble, one way or the other."

The pirate had clasped his genitals during the conversation. As far as Gil knew, humans considered the male genitals to be a symbol of ego, representing the male's capability to pass his genes off through reproduction. This gesture puzzled Gil as he was neither female nor human. Did the man not know this? Maybe he had mistaken Gil's dashing good looks for something else or maybe his log pose pointed to a different direction. The most probable thing that Gil could think of was that the man had a hidden wound on his crotch area that Gil had missed. It seemed strange, as he had been rather thorough during his examination of that area while Bazil had been unconscious. "Would you like me to take a look at your penis?"

skills: pisces paladin

The words the creature spoke sunk in, for once, Bazil paid attention during another’s speech. The swamp thing identified itself as Gilbard and Jackal as the mink whom Bazil had met before he stormed the palace, “So that fuckin ears did this…..huh..” The Red Devil mumbled, looking down at his hands, clenching a few fists before returning his gaze back towards the fishman. He slowly closed the gap between the two men, now standing just a few inches away from Gilbard, who himself had just moved to the window. “I aint a fool,” The pirate smirked, “Ima fuckin king and you best remember that.” For a second his immense bloodlust could be felt in the air of the room, his kingly willpower hung heavy. Then, as quickly as it came, the killing intent was replaced with a malicious laughter, “Im just joshin ya, ole’ Gilly! Now, I’m gonna need you to tell me where lil ears went.” Bazil cackled, unbuttoning his shredded khaki pants and dropping them to the floor. Revealing his habit of not wearing underwear, his slightly above average penis in full glory, turning he walked over to a bag on the floor and pulled out a pair of grey training pants, sliding them on and up, covering his genitals. Reaching into the bag once more, Bazil pulled out a red sash, tying it in a knot around his waist. “Plenty of people with a lot more experience seeing human cocks have seen my dick, I think its fuckin good.” Bazil chuckled, referencing his many sexual escapades, though for him it’s all about the power and conquering aspect.

The two now separated by roughly four meters, Bazil quickly raised his right hand, holding his pointer finger and thumb up like a ‘pistol’. His index finger took the form of a gun barrel and fired a shot at the fishman, just as he had thrown the pillow at Bazil to test him, the Red Devil was now administering a test of his own, only his actions reflected his ruthless nature.

The turn in Bazil's composure was noticeable. Gil watched the man clench his fists and slowly walk over to him. It was a clear sign of aggression. The fishman had no intention of letting him get close enough to himself to be within a few inches. Instead, he put out his arm and raised his palm to face Bazil, so as to keep an arm's length between them. He automatically rose to the balls of his feet and rotated his body side on, planting his centre of mass directly over his feet. His head tilted downward and his brow creased over his black eyes so as to challenge Bazil's domineering body language. Gil could feel it, the weight of his presence like there was an increase in the density of the air in the room.

When the pirate switched tact, Gil didn't believe for one second that he was really kidding. To him, this seemed like a man who put importance on his image in other's eyes. It was important for others to cower and submit. He felt a tingling sensation as the weight lifted. Bazil was displaying sociopathic symptoms, which didn't bode well for those who had relationships with him. He began changing, and for the moment, Gil assumed his attempt at dominance had passed. All the same, it was impossible to relax around this man. Grabbing a cloak that hung by the door, Gil would toss it to the ground next to Bazil. "Here. You'll need this more than me. There will probably be checkpoints at the city gate if there weren't already." Gil would wait patiently for him to finish dressing.

Gil wasn't at all surprised to find himself unter attack. Bazil raised his hand in a gun shape, his finger morphing into the barrel of a gun. The fishman had agreed to heal the man due to Jackal's request, but to turn a weapon on him was too far. Luckily for him, the speed of the attack was manageable, and easily noticed for the alert fishman. A bullet would fly toward the centre of his chest at a non-prioritised speed. Gil would twist his body side on so that the bullet would fly past him and into the wall. He would use his pisces paladin kata to assist him, spraying out a little water from his shoulders and hips to rotate him around, releasing a little condensed water using his turbulent tide kata to accelerate this movement to tertiary from the get go. With another turbulent tide burst underneath his back foot, he would shoot forward and outstretch his forward hand to a metre from Bazil. As this motion started, this hand would rush a tentacle of water to latch onto and cover Bazil's pistol arm and filling the barrel of the gun with his danker domain kata.

Gil wasn't putting much strength into the tentacle of water, instead aiming to submerge Bazil rather than out-muscle him. If he willing to show that he was non-aggressive, Gil would let him withdraw his arm and leave. Otherwise, he would continue to spread his water over Bazil's entire body.

skills: pisces paladin, danker domain, turbulent tide.

Seconds after the pistol had fired, Bazil’s arm wa wrapped up in a tentacle of water. The strength was something the pirate could easily out muscle, but he had a feeling that was done on purpose. As this fishman was a doctor through and through, “Well that’s pretty fuckin cool!” Bazil exclaimed as he looked down at his submerged lower arm. “Aint to fuckin shabby dodging that bullet, either.” The Red Devil Chuckled, clearly impressed with the fishman’s fighting abilities. “You’re an interesting one, aint seen to many bastards that can control water.”

Bazil’s bloodlust subsided completely, no longer entertaining the idea of testing Gilbard, as he had done more than enough to pique the young pirates interest. “Now, if don’t fucking mind?” He said sharply, looking towards his submerged hand once more, the water slowly withdrew back to the fishman it had come from. Shaking the remaining droplets off, he made a few fists to ensure everything still worked properly and moved to pick up the dirty brown cloak that Gil had tried to hand him before and gave it a shake before slinging it over his bare chest and shoulders, walking over to the bed, the pirate picked up his bag containing the treasures from the palace and turned back to Gilbard. “The next time you see that little ears bastard, tell’im I owe him one..” The pirate murmured as he walked passed the fishman, “And the king always repays his debts..” He finished, locking eyes with the doctor who had just saved his life, implying that he also had an iou to stash in his back pocket.

Bazil paused for a moment as he spoke and then continued to the door, waving over his shoulder as he disappeared into a dark silhouette through the doorway. He took a deep breath as he stepped out into the hot Alabastan sun, relieved to finally get out of the dark cramped home that Gilbard had been using as a makeshift clinic. He looked up and down the empty sandy streets, most people on the outskirts had abandoned their homes since the fall of the royal family, leaving just himself and fishman doctor in the ghost town. “Well shit.” He mumbled to himself as he walked off in the direction of the palace, “Now I gotta go find that fatass.”

[Exit]

Gil was standing there for a few minutes after Bazil left, thinking about the peculiar exchange that had just taken place. The temporary home for the fishman was oddly quiet now, it was hard to imagine that he could experience such a quiet after all the noise that the rambunctious pirate had brought to the place. He had to say, regardless of what opinions he had on the guy, he had to be one of the most notable characters he had met on his travels. Humans were a strange bunch, various quirks and temperaments that seemed to come from nowhere and fulfill no purpose.

He began to pack up his stuff. Filling a duffel bag with his stolen medical equipment and the few belongings he had. It was about time that he move on as well. The city of Alubarna had become inhospitable to his kind despite the fact that he had escaped the eyes of the law wherever he had gone. His mind wandered, considering the not too distant future.

Bazil had decided not to take his 'advice', but regardless, Gil felt like he had a good grasp of his character now. The two of them were different as could be. One clung to the shadows while the other bathed in the limelight. He wondered what would come of the man's fate. It would be an interesting ride, if nothing else. He just hoped for Jackal and his own sake that they would escape whatever trouble that would inevitably come. His black eyes watched the sun creep into the sky before pulling his jacket hoot over his face, disappearing into the desert city.

exit