Kincaid

Cyrus stared into the amber liquid of his glass, searching for answers to questions he didn't realized he had ever asked. Here he was again, another bar, another day, same island, no word from the Revolution. Perhaps they had forgotten him, perhaps they were waiting for him to prove his worth. He had gambled on this possibility and risked his neck to recruit a world renowned inventor to the Revolutionary Army. Unfortunately even the inventor was keeping him waiting now. So here he sat in Mock Town yet again, simply waiting for the world to show itself to him.

He had done much since arriving here, gaining the powers of a strange Devil Fruit, infiltrating a Marine Base and several amusement parks and now even aiding and abetting in not only the heist of Sea Train blueprints, but arson and at least several murders linked to the Caprice pirates. He wasn't exactly the mastermind or the poster child behind these events, but if a Marine investigation looked hard enough it wouldn't be difficult to connect the dots.

Still, he wasn't worried about being found out or arrested. In fact, a Marine jailor ship would be a fine surprise for the day, at least it would give him something to do. Instead he simply drank, day in and day out, passing each one in a blurry haze. As he gazed down the bar top at his latest drinking buddies, none seemed all that interesting to him. Occasionally a half decent looking woman might wander in, usually with someone else but that rarely stopped Cyrus from trying his luck. Today though, they either looked like donkeys or were men, and Cyrus wasn't particularly interested in either of those types.

He raised a hand towards the barkeep, signaling him over, One more before I hit the road. The man nodded and turned away to retrieve the bottle Cyrus had been favoring that morning. He sighed heavily and simply sipped at his rum, wondering if the day might open up a bit or if he should just crawl out to the alley for a snooze.

Kincaid

Cyrus would watch as the barkeep poured more amber liquid into his glass, raising his hand to stop the pour. He was feeling it already, he didn't need to go overboard. Just then the man beside him stood and left, having paid his bill he stumbled across the room and out the door. Within seconds the seat was taken by a new face and as Cyrus turned to size his newest drinking buddy up and down, he raised his glass as a nod of respect as the man ordered his wine, Not much of a wine drinker myself, but if you're drinking, we're friends. Cyrus said as he suddenly noticed the furry tail darting behind the man, swishing back and forth in excitement.

Cyrus leaned back in his stool to get a better look at this, an eyebrow raised inquisitively, The hell? He asked, though intended to keep it as an inside thought, realized it was too late by the time it had escaped his lips. Um, buddy it looks like you sat on something...alive. Cyrus said, pointing at the tail before looking up at the rest of the man and really seeing him for the first time. What Cyrus had thought were two tufts of hair happened to be furry ears, the man's teeth were sharp and pointed, wolfish in appearance. Cyrus's face went pale as he stared at this new arrival.
He looked down at his drink, then back at the man, then down back at his drink before finally pushing it away, Yup, that's it, I've had enough of that for today. This is what happens when an alcoholic meets a Mink for the first time apparently.

Just then, a voice behind him caught his attention and Cyrus decided to turn away from the half wolf-half man hallucination and focus on this latest turn of events for a moment. On his other side, two drunkards had been arguing over a piece of paper for what seemed to Cyrus like hours. He had mostly tuned them out until one of them just mentioned,
I'm tellin ya you idgit, One Toe Wally's treasure is here on Jaya, old fool apparently buried over 500 million beli on this island before being captured by the Marines and escorted to the gallows.

Cyrus stared at the two drunkards for a moment, looking down at the piece of paper they were arguing over. A crude drawing of Jaya with various black and red marks dotted the paper. In the top right corner someone had clearly spilled some sort of dark drink on it and in the bottom left hand corner Cyrus could see what looked like a small smattering of dried blood. This thing seemed to be more of a napkin than an ancient treasure map, but then again, time took its toll on everything so who was he to judge.  

Kincaid

Cyrus leaned forward even more, not even trying to hide his eavesdropping. He could now fully view the map. It was crude for sure, poorly drawn and not very well marked, but one thing was easy to make out and that was the coordinates marked on the edges of the crinkled map. Considering Cyrus had never heard of this One Toe Wally fellow before, he highly doubted the man had managed to make off with a five hundred million beli booty, but even five million would be a nice little pay day for the afternoon. Making a mental note, Cyrus memorized the coordinates for where the X was on the map, noticing it was drawn beneath two tress crossed in the tops.
Oye, what in the hell you think you're doing hatman?

Oh boy, he had been made.
You tryin to steal our treasures? We don't like no thieves round here. The other said before literally spitting into a slop bucket at his feet, the trademark metal tinging echoing across the bar.
Wow, when they talk about staying in school they're definitely talking about you two. Cyrus said without really thinking, this proved to only anger the pair more as they rose from their seats, hands reaching for a sheathed sword and pistol in their waistbands.

What'd you say to Jim-Bob?
Jim-Bob? That's a freaking joke, right? Cyrus said with a laugh, Now I know you're messing with me.
At that moment the sword was drawn and Cyrus felt a very familiar but very cold sensation touch the edge of his adam's apple.
We should gut em like a pig Cletus, serve him up to the fishes.

BAHAHAHA! Cletus?!?! Cyrus burst out, slamming his hand on the bar top in an uproar of laughter. Jim-Bob and Cletus? Oh you two are something else, BAHAHAHAHA!
The pair of inbreds simply looked at each other, then stared at Cyrus, then checked with each other once again. Gaining control of himself and wiping a tear from his eye, Cyrus waved a hand,
Sorry, sorry, where are my manners? You were in the middle of something Cletus. By the way, you're going to want to hold the edge of the sword here, on the jugular. It makes for a quicker, albeit messier death, doesn't really give me time to react you know? Cyrus said, adjusting the sword to sit on his jugular as he had instructed.

Cletus looked back at Jim-Bob, the other redneck simply shrugged, equally as confused with how insane this man in front of them seemed to be.
Oh, and to my fine furry friend beside me, the treasure is probably a farce, but five hundred million or five million, that's still a fine way to spend an afternoon. So if you're interested in joining me for a rousing scavenger hunt, I just ask that you bring the shovel, because I have the map. Oh and by the way, run! Cyrus said as he held the map up in his hand.

When Cyrus had slammed his fist on the table, making a big spectacle of the whole thing, he had let loose a nearly invisible string along the top of the bar. This string crawled along towards the map, now sitting unattended since Cletus and Jim-Bob had decided to rise and grab their weapons. It was easy enough to attach the string to the edge of the map and then just yank the whole piece of parchment into his hand silently.

Now when Cyrus instructed Fenrir to run, a lot happened all at once. First Cletus and Jim Bob's eyes bulged in surprise before their faces turned a deep, deep scarlet red. Fury raged through them as they realized they had been had. Acting on his anger, Cletus attempted to sever Cyrus's jugular as the Revolutionary had instructed him to do. Unfortunately, as he moved the blade, he found it simply wouldn't respond to the force of his hand. When Cyrus had touched the blade, he had wrapped a bundle of strings around it, giving him full control. With a nice hard yank, the blade fell away to Cletus's side as Cyrus leaned back in his stool before kicking outward into Cletus's chest. The surprised hillbilly grunted before falling backwards into Jim-Bob. The two floundered on the floor as Cyrus pulled the old rusty cutlass into his hand and jumped onto the bar top.

Onward to glory! The dramatic Revolutionary shouted, pointing the sword towards the doors with one hand, the map rolled in the other. He then jumped from the bar top to the nearest table and continued this table hopping all the way to the front entrance and out the doors. Whether Fenrir followed this madman or not was entirely up to the Mink, but Cyrus wasn't waiting around to find out.

Kincaid

The duo had made it out of the bar, both clearly faster than the two men they had just stolen from. They were running down the street, taking random side alleys and turns so as to get out of view. Finally, when Cyrus felt it was safe enough to slow down, he ducked into a side alley to catch his breath and take a better look at the map.
Hm? Like a wha- OH! You mean my strings. It's sort of a long story, but basically I stole some fruit with this guy and then when we were eating it he forgot he had one of those Devil Fruits things in his bag WITH the regular fruit. I mean honestly who does that? Anyway, I ended up eating the devil fruit thinking it was regular fruit and now I can control these string things. Cyrus said, motioning with his hands to add emphasis to the story, only to notice one of the strings hanging from his finger tip. He shook his hand again and again, but then remembered they were not only attached to him, but actually came out of his body. Giving up on his failing endeavor, he ceased waving his hand frantically and returned to the map.

In hindsight I guess that really wasn't a terribly long story. He said with a shrug,
Okay it seems like...according to this we need to north towards Mouth Bay. Looks like we're going to have to cut through some jungle on the way there too. Cyrus said, holding out the map for Fenrir to see what he was talking about. He wasn't in the business of hiding information from someone who had decided to join him on a crazed adventure on the spot. Once Fenrir seemed satisfied with the map and what Cyrus had said, he would roll the map up again and place it in his jacket pocket, out of prying eyes unlike those two hillbillies.

Stepping out of the alley, he'd quickly turn back to Fenrir as if he had suddenly remembered something. Removing his hat and putting his hand forward he said, Ah, before I forget I think it's important to know the names of your traveling companions. Especially if they turn out to try to murder you later on, you can have something to properly curse as you lay dying. His words were dark, but his smile showed humor and joy at his little joke, I'm Cyrus Kincaid, pleasure.
Whether Fenrir returned the pleasantries or not, Cyrus would return his hat to his head and move North, out of Mock Town and towards the jungles of northern Jaya.

After walking for sometime, they came across the densely packed jungle and Cyrus paused, Hrmmm from what the map said we have to head north into the jungle and then take a turn at some rock shaped like a skull. Cyrus's bottom lip pouted in thought, I mean, a skull? That seems a little cliche, don't ya think? He shrugged and continued on his way, Oh well, cliche or not, no point in wasting time just standing here. Onward! The Revolutionary declared as they cut their way into the thick jungle.

OOC: I was thinking of having some kind of animal encounter next, so feel free to take that over or I'll do it in my next post. Doesn't matter either way.

Kincaid

OOC: I've told Fenrir multiple times to post so I'm just going to go on without him and wrap it up.

To say the jungle was hot would be an understatement. The massive trees and thick leaves clung to Cyrus as he tried to slash his way through the foliage with his strings. At times the dense jungle fauna felt impregnable and extremely discombobulating. Within minutes of entering, he had already lost his new Mink friend. Turning over his shoulder he stared back at the path he had cut with his threads and frowned when Fenrir was nowhere to be found.
Wolf guy? Wolfy? Cyrus whistled as if calling a dog, Here boy, come here. I'm over here. After a few long minutes of silence Cyrus simply shrugged and continued cutting his way through.
Oh well, more treasure for me I suppose.

After what must have been a solid hour of walking, Cyrus could hear voices off in the distance to his right. He paused, holding his hand steady and, rather than slicing his way through the foliage, began slowly and silently making his way towards the voices.
I just darn think that if the boss wantsted us ta ashually finds ta treasure, he woulda sends more than jus us, ya know?
For the love of Kami above, I told you to shut your trap Jim-Bob. Yer speech impe-impede-your damn fool mouth is givin me a headache. Cletus said gruffly and Cyrus nearly burst out laughing as he poked his head through the brush to find the two hillbillies from the bar struggling to make their way through the jungle.

Issa good thing we's took a picture of that doo darn map, eh Cletus?
Cletus sighed heavily, clearly done with his partner, Yeh, it was one of your only good ideas chicken shit brain.
Oi, whatchu callin me? You best be watchin your mouff.
Cyrus stepped out of the brush and into the make-shift path the two were carving with their larger frames. He brushed the leaves and foliage off of his clothes, looking up to find the two hillbillies dumbfounded by his sudden appearance. He offered a quick wave,
Hey boys, glad I found you here. You haven't happened to see that wolf-person I was traveling with have you?

Oi! You's the ass from the bar. He's the ass from the bar Cletus.
I can see that ya idgit. Cletus said, reaching for the cutlass at his belt.
A simple "no" would have sufficed gentlemen. Cyrus sighed as he waved his hand towards the tree to the hillbillies' left. Near invisible strings would slice through the base of the tree, causing it to sway before falling down to the ground directly on top of the hillbillies.
Timberrrr- ooh. Cyrus winced as a wet squishing noise could be heard from beneath the tree. With a sigh he turned and began making his way through the jungle once more.  

Kincaid

Hrmm according to this I should be somewhere near the shore line soon. Cyrus said, holding the map out in front of him as he walked through the jungle. By now he had already caught about three branches to the face and walked through maybe half a dozen large spider webs, yet still he didn't learn to lower the map so he could actually see where he was going or maybe just stop walking while looking at the old piece of parchment.
Hmm yeah, in about 25 yards I should come across some beach, at least I think this is beach. I guess it could be just more jungle, but that's the water there for sure...right? Who even drew this? One Toe Wally's cook? The revolutionary babbled to himself as he walked.

It didn't dawn on him until the last second, just before he stepped over the edge of the cliff that he had actually broken through the foliage of the jungle and was standing on a barren cliff. Cyrus looked up from the map and gazed around at the bright afternoon sky, puffy white clouds hung heavy in the air while gulls cawed and circled something dead in the water. The clinging stench of jungle was replaced by the crisp salty air of the sea and Cyrus breathed it in deeply. Folding the map and placing it in his pocket he finally noticed just how close he had come to death. Maybe a foot from his own two feet, the ground simply ended and was replaced by a void maybe two hundred feet down. Cyrus let out a low whistle and shook his head,
That would've been a rough way to end the day.

Attaching his wires to the top of the cliff, Cyrus began to slowly lower himself down. At one point he was walking completely horizontal, simply strolling down the cliff face as if he were only walking along a sidewalk. With a tune on his lips and a song in his heart, the eccentric Revolutionary made his way down the cliff and onto the small sliver of beach below.

Retracting his strings once his feet touched sand, Cyrus studied the small sliver of beach head that surrounded him.
Not a whole lot of places to bury a- He paused, noticing just around the bend of the cliff, what looked like the back corner of a row boat. Walking around the cliff and along the beach, he came across exactly what he believed it to be,
Hello, what do we have here? Seems someone's beaten me to the punch. If so...where are they? Surely those idiots in the jungle didn't scale this cliff.
Cyrus worked through these questions out loud as he approached the small wooden vessel. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a vertical crevice in the cliff face. Dislodged rocks and boulders sat around the entranceway, clearly moved recently by the tracks in the sand.
The plot thickens.

Kincaid

Walking into the crevice, Cyrus found it unnaturally dark, though in reality it was as dark as one would expect a crack in a large cliff face to be. Light quickly faded behind him as he walked deeper into the void, his hands out in front of him to stop him from smacking into a wall or anything else. Clearly he had learned something from his time in the jungle. Feeling his way along the smooth stone work, Cyrus could tell this wasn't a naturally formed crevice. Someone long ago had purposefully dug this little tunnel out with tools and made it to look like a natural rock formation. As he rounded a corner, a small, faint light danced on the walls and Cyrus could hear voices farther down.

Crouching down to make himself as small a target as possible, Cyrus made his way down the tunnel and peaked around the lip of the entrance to a large cavern-like room. Inside were three men, two digging with spades and the third standing over them with a torch.

Let's go you two lug-heads. I'm not exactly worried about those idiot hillbillies finding this place. They couldn't have found their way out of a cardboard box, but who knows who else overheard them.
Aye boss, there was that homeless guy who made a big show at the bar and his weird pet. One of the workers said breathlessly, taking a moment to rest on his shovel.
Oi, which is why you two need to get back to work shoveling this shit so we can grab the treasure and hightail it out of here before anyone's the wiser, hear me?
I hear ya boss, might go faster if you pulled your weight. The worker said, the last bit no more than a mumble that Cyrus couldn't fully make out from his position.
Whatchu say? Talking shit?
No boss. The worker said, getting back to his digging.

Cyrus thought silently to himself, going over a plan in his head about how to approach this situation. They clearly hadn't found anything yet and they wanted to keep whatever the treasure was for themselves. The "boss" was armed from the looks of the pistol handle bulge beneath his jacket and the two workers at the very least had sharp spades to smack Cyrus around with. On the other hand, the Revolutionary had the element of surprise with the two workers digging in the hole and the boss's back turned to the entrance Cyrus was hiding in. What to do, what to do, that was the question. A tactical strike would be the most effective, he could at least drop the numbers to something more reasonable.

Making up his mind, Cyrus stepped out of the entranceway and promptly fell flat on his face after tripping over a rock at his feet. The Revolutionary fell in a large heap, pushing a cloud of dust into the air and making a loud groaning noise that echoed throughout the chamber. Immediately the sound of shovels scraping at earth died away as Cyrus looked up to see all three heads staring at him in surprise.
Afternoon fellas.

Kincaid

The hell? Ain't that the homeless guy from the bar? The worker asked as Cyrus got up to his feet. The boss reached for the pistol Cyrus suspected he had and pulled it from its holster but Cyrus was faster, raising his hand and flicking a small bundle of nearly invisible strings at the trigger hand. The gun flew from the boss's hand and deeper into the darkness of the room.
Yowch! The boss declared, nearly dropping the torch in his other hand from the sudden surprise.

There's no need for weapons, I'm not here to hurt you all or steal or anything. Hell, you can keep whatever we find, I just wanted in on the adventure of it all, you know?
Honestly...no, I don't. Who wouldn't want the treasure? The worker asked.
Oi, get back to work you slack-wit. The boss grumbled to which the worker and his friend simply shrugged before resuming their digging. The boss then turned his attention back to Cyrus, his eyes filled with malice and anger at being so easily disarmed.

I know what you're thinking, Cyrus began as he approached the man, reaching into his jacket pocket for his flask, You're thinking, or wondering rather, whether or not you have time to go find that pistol, raise it and shoot me dead before I...what? You don't know what I just did, you don't know how I did it and even though you have too much testosterone to openly admit any emotion other than raw anger, the fact is you're a bit scared of this scrawny ass hobo. Cyrus popped the top of the flask and swigged down some ice cold rum before closing it and tossing it lightly towards the boss.
So shut up, let the boys find the treasure and let's all sit around and have a drink together. No one needs to hurt anyone or pull any stupid shit like that. Make sure your friends in the hole get some of that too, not just for you Gordo. Cyrus said with a wink. The boss regarded him wearily but Cyrus had met few men, pirate, marine or revolutionary that could resist the temptation of a free drink, regardless of the circumstances. The boss quickly popped the top and indulged before handing it down to the other two who followed suit before tossing it back to Cyrus.

Oooh thirsty boys today, eh? Cyrus said with a shake of the near empty flask.
Ah well, I'm sure you earn- Cyrus was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of metal on metal.
Boss I think we got something. The worker said as he began furiously digging around the buried chest.
No shit, hurry up then, get it free and set it up here.

Cyrus stepped forward to the edge of the hole as the two workers attempted to dislodge the chest from its earthen bed. The greed in the boss's eyes could be seen even without the flickering light of the torch.
Here, let me hold that for you. Cyrus said, grabbing the torch as the boss reached down, his second hand now free to pull the chest up out of the hole. The boss quickly turned his back to the men and Cyrus, fumbling with the old rusted lock he simply pulled it free from the chest, crumbling in his hand. He worked like a monkey picking bugs from its companion's fur, feverishly pulling at the chest and attempting to open it. Then, as the third lock fell away to rusted dust, Cyrus's eyebrow raised in curious anticipation as the boss began to lift the lid of the chest, only for the pointed end of a spade to suddenly appear protruding from his own.

Cyrus's head snapped back as he looked down at the two workers in the hole, one holding the butt end of the spade that was currently embedded in the back of their boss.
Well now, I didn't see that coming.
The treasure is ours hobo, not his and not yours.
Yeah no problem, treasure is yours, basically told you that when I walked in. Thought that was covered.
The boss's body slumped over to the left as the worker released the back end of the spade, no longer holding the dead man up.
We've worked for that asshole for too long, treated us like shit. He had what was coming to him, Curly and I, we earned this and we won't let anyone take it from us.
I mean I didn't really ask for your life story but okay, sure. Cyrus said quickly, taking a step back from the chest as the two men rose from the hole in the ground and approached it themselves.

Cyrus watched carefully as the worker bent down and opened the chest only to reveal...

Is that a fucking toe?

Silence in the cavern.

BAHWHAWHAHA!! Cyrus exploded in laughter, doubled over he worried for a moment that he might piss himself from laughing so hard. Composing himself after a long minute of laughter at the stunned faces of the two workers, Cyrus wiped tears from his eyes,
Get it? It's a toe. One Toe Wally's most prized possession, his TREASURE, was his last remaining toe. The old fool must have cut it off and stored it here, knowing he was surrounded by the Marines. Oh boy, that's too good. There's a story I'll tell the grand kids decades from now. Thank you for that one gentlemen.

Cyrus said as he took out his trusty reserve flask (a good alcoholic never travels with just one flask), took a swig before sloshing the contents across the two stunned men staring down at the chest of empty promises.
Oi, what the hell you doin? The worker demanded, the cold liquor suddenly rousing him from his stunned stupor.
Like I said boys, the treasure is yours but your little rowboat out there is mine. Cyrus then tossed the torch at the nearest man, watching he and his friend ignite in a glorious blaze. As Cyrus left the cavern, he noticed their shadows dance across the walls like some sort of demonic puppet show, their screams echoing in the chamber followed him as he stepped out onto the sandy beach.

Cyrus breathed in deeply, closing his eyes and sucking in the crisp salt air. All was peaceful, all was calm, BAWHAWAHAHA, his friggin toe. I mean come on, you can't even make this stuff up. Cyrus said, doubling over again in joyful laughter. Once he gathered himself a second time, the Revolutionary shoved the rowboat back into the water, careful to jump in just before the tide touched his feet and began making his way back to Mock Town.

[exit]