Green hands parted the curtains to look out on the street. Marines were mobilising. Patrolling the street like some kind of military police state. Even though he was yet to catch the eye of the World Government himself, just being a fishman was enough for him to be under suspicion. Wherever he went, he would be watched. Right now in Nanohana, it wasn't a safe place for him. And a much less safe place for Jackal. He wondered where the mink had got to. He was beginning to worry after all of the commotion in Nanohana coupled with seeing his bounty poster in the newspaper. He was sure that Jackal would be able to handle himself in most situations, but we were talking about a full on marine invasion here, and that mink was a little too flashy for his own good.

While hiding out here in Alubarna, he had been working on his concoctions. The bacteria that he hosted in his gut had turned feral for a few days after he had accidentally consumed the wrong type of coral. The fishman walked over to the sink and picked up an unlabeled bottle filled with mysterious grey goop. He sculled the class, and then leaned over to one side to let out a low pitched, whistling fart. This concoction should be enough to let those little microbes settle back down. It was like a tired parent, pushed to their limits, finally giving in to their child's tantrums and buying them whatever had caught their eye. The only problem with this treatment was that it gave him some bad gas. Bacteria often excreted some nasty airborne chemicals. Gil didn't mind it too much, as long as no one lit a match in the vicinity, he would be alright. Overall he was pleased, though. He felt like this particular strain was almost ready for it's dress rehearsal. It had come a long way since the incident with that poor man's arm.

items: spear pistol
doriki: 2 speed, 1 strength

OOC: Since Bazil is unconscious, we are going to split this voyage into two smaller ones.

Gil was also pleased with how his bile acid was coming along. He had figured out how to increase the pH significantly by training his body by inducing stomach cramps to keep his internal juices bottled up. He was always amazed at how well his body adapted. He guessed that he had his zebrafish genes to thank for that. The practical application of the bial was the hard, and dangerous part. Because now that it was of such a high pH, it caused significant burning just by contact and was more dangerous to organics than acid of the same concentration was. Gil trained himself to be able to safely transport the bile up his digestive tract and out his mouth through a series of precise internal muscle contractions. Gil had been testing it on some nearby furniture, melting away a perfectly good chair and burning some ominous words into the wall. It was both scary and inspiring just how powerful a weapon an organism could become.

"Did you miss me?"

"It is certainly quieter without you, that's for sure." The corner of Gil's mouth twitched upward and his eyes crinkled. "I take it that you were discrete in coming here?" Gil asked while he eyed the limp body that was hauled onto his bed.

"I'm going to need you to save that man's life. The man who murdered the King. He's pretty banged up."

Gil walked over to the body and observed it from a few metres away. A sparkle of recognition lit in his eye. "You've brought me a man who has murdered a king?" He knelt down over the bed and rolled the unconscious man into a neutral lying position.

"Also... What's with this dump of a place? You have some really... meek tastes."

Gil croaked, pulling out a bag of tools from underneath the bed, unzipping it, and bringing out a stethoscope. "A little dirt is good for the immune system. I hear some mammals enjoy a good dust bath. You should try it some time." He would remove any clothing that was in the way of his initial inspection. He had shallow cuts on his stomach and other places, but Gil knew that these wouldn't cause an adult to fall unconscious. There was something else at play here. Around the wounded areas, there was a blueish blackness that was traveling up the man's veins like the delta of a river. He put the stethoscope in his ears and held the other end to the unconscious man's chest. There was a heartbeat, albeit a faint one. Gil moved upwards to the man's face. It was rather white and flushed with sweat. He pulled back the man's eyelids and peered into the eyes. They showed no response, and he could see faint discolouration. Looking into his ears, Gil could see a redness, like they were inflamed and a little puffy. He would then open his mouth and peer down his throat. There, at the back of his throat would be a blackish blue discolouration. There. This was no ordinary infection or toxin.

"I have seen these symptoms before in a merchant that had traveled the desert to get to Alubarna while I was holed up in the palace clinic. I believe he has been paralysed by something akin to the striped viper. It's venom slowly closes down the nervous system until your brain barely functions. The bad news is that this merchant died, and I could do nothing about it except help him leave the world painlessly. The good news is, that since then I have done research into the affliction and heard of a cure. The other bad news is that I have no idea where I could find such a thing. I'm afraid this man doesn't have much time before his paralytic state becomes permanent, or worse."

Gil stood, glancing over to Jackal and then back down at the man. "You say this man killed a king..." Then realisation struck that he had seen this face before. He almost completely missed it due to how different this sick man looked to the one in the bounty poster. "This is that 'Warhead', isn't it?" Gil looked over to Jackal. "I've heard of this man's exploits from the people on this island. Is he your ally? The marines have launched all but a full out invasion of this island partly because of you two. Now you're going out of your way to not only associate with him but to assist him? What the hell have you got yourself into?"

Bazil’s unconscious body laid on the operating table inside of a dingy two story home. Beside him, stood a fishman doctor and the mink who had just saved his life on a whim. Two races who held great hatred towards the humans who have long made them suffer, now about to save this man, no this devil’s life.

His body was hot and flushed, almost completely paralyzed from the poison, the function of his organs had begun to be affected to the point of stopping. Reduced to a now death like state, the once proud young man started to slip in and out of this world, his mind going black from lack of oxygen, his mouth dry as the desert island they had found themselves on.

During this time, Bazil found himself in an open plain underneath the night sky, in front of where he stood, around ten meters away, there was a large rock, atop of which sat a red lion, his body covered in a black flame like pattern and a crown atop his mane covered head. The beast was sprawled out proudly, his long tail whipping back and forth as it hung off the edge, his eyes looking down upon the pirate. “Bazil” The beast rumbled lowly, “I am the ‘king’ that dwells inside of you.” The lion, standing up moved down off his perch, standing on all fours the beast still looked down upon the young man. Swaggering over to him, the lion circled around Bazil, sizing him up with all of his senses. “And that..” The beast trailed off, turning the young man’s attention to the crimson bubbling mass that was forming ten meters behind his current position, “Is the true devil that has taken up residence within you.” The bubbling mass now taking the form of a winged demon, its malformed limbs reminiscent of weapons, rifles for limbs and blades for fingers, the wings spliced together with various makes and models. All while dripping a liquid almost identical to blood. “You were born for great things, Bazil, the power you were born with is far greater than what any devil could offer you.” The lion roared, taking a defensive position next to his ‘master’.

Bazil looked at the blood demon, the creature unable to form audible words, it just extended its lanky red limbs towards the young man, the liquid dripping on the ground, killing the plant life it touched. Spreading its dripping wings out the creature let out a bone chilling screech.

“You are at a crossroads.” The lion spoke up after the creature quieted back down, “Either embrace your role as a ‘king’ or fall into depravity and follow the path of the devil, you must choose” It finished, the world now turning upside down and reforming, almost like someone shook up a snow globe to reset everything. Now standing at a forked path, each twelve meters long, one leading to flame patterned red lion and the other to the blood demon.

Bazil, who had silently been taking the entire situation, finally gave his reaction, a sadistic smile appeared on his face. The razor sharp grin making its appearance, “I guess that means I’ll just have to be the devil king then!” He roared, unleashing a hailstorm of bullets at both of the beings, the blood demon popping, scattering the crimson liquid everywhee, while the lion dissipated into a smokey red flame that hung on the air. Both of which began to gather towards the pirate, entering into his visible orifices. Once again the world shifted around, this time finishing as a blank canvas with Bazil in the middle. The world was now all white, ready to be remade in the pirate’s image.

Looking around the empty space and then down to his hands, a laugh began to slowly build until it reached the point of maniacal outburst, echoing through the vast emptiness his laughter carried for what seemed like forever.

Word Count: 666
OOC: Dream Sequence, Brosiedons
@Kaito @kappa

No, not every person Gil had treated was an ally of his. In fact, they never were. He hadn't had an ally let alone a friend for a while. But he felt like Jackal was missing the point here. This wasn't some random citizen that they were talking about, it was a highly dangerous criminal. Apparently the mink thought it 'might be interesting to keep him around'. Gil could agree that it would probably be interesting, but it was very careless to say the least. His black eyes fixed on Jackal. He could see that he had made up his mind on this. Gil decided he would have to take it upon himself to figure out a way to improve their odds of surviving, even if it was only by a little.

"So let me get this straight. You are sure that whatever you have taken in is a cure for this scorpion poison. So I would have to derive the agent from your blood and transfer it into someone else." While he talked, he moved the couch over to the bed so that they were laying next to each other. He would then go through his bag and pull out some tubes, fluid bags, needles and syringes, and a bunch of other apparatus that he had nicked from the palace clinic over the past few months. Jackal obviously didn't understand how hard it was to do what he was asking. "One thing is for sure. There's no guarantee. In fact, there's probably not even a double digit percent chance of this working. I am more likely to cause harm rather than help. Lay down." He said, motioning to the couch. If Jackal let him, he would insert a needle into his arm and attach it to a tube leading to a fluid bag. Gil would need a decent amount of his blood. "How many doses of this cure did you take? Whatever you had will have spread throughout your body, meaning that whatever I can take will be diluted. Not to mention that some has probably already left your system." Even if he had access to whatever state of the art equipment and the culmination of the world's knowledge this would be a tough feat. Gil hadn't done something like this before. And he wouldn't think of trying with a hope of succeeding if it weren't such a serious situation. "I'll run some experiments. At least this Bazil may be able to find peace knowing that his body will be donated to furthering medical science."

Gil hadn't addressed Jackal's talk of joining his crew on purpose. It was as he had said. It was a large commitment that would change the course of his life significantly. He wanted to, but there was still much that had yet to be decided.

Gil made his furry friend comfortable on the couch and hooked him up to a bag. Unfortunately, he was going to have a lot drained out of him, but it was his choice to do this in the first place. Gil took it slow, ordering him to drink litres of water so that he may replace what he lost. Gil took each bag in his hands once they were filled and hung them up. It was normal red blood by the looks of it. Was there really something in there that he could find and extract? The fishman watched as Jackal faded in and out of consciousness. It was probably a mix of the blood loss and his own tiredness coming over him. The rest of the bandit squad continually got in Gilbard's way, standing over Jackal with anxious expressions. After multiple verbal attempts at getting them to keep their distance, Gil had to forcibly confine them to the other room. He had everything he needed from Jackal after the first twenty minutes, but he decided to let him nap for a bit. When it came time for serious work, he would need his space though.

At the same time, Gil drew blood from Bazil as well. He wanted a supply of that blueish venom so that he may experiment on it. The option of attempting a simple blood transfusion had crossed his mind, but he had no idea what blood type either of them were and no way to test it. It would be too reckless to try something like that. He hadn't taken much from Bazil, probably about a tenth of a litre. He didn't want to contribute to his gradually worsening state if he could help it.

There was still the issue of the spreading venom in his system. He would like to slow the spread if he could, giving him precious time to find the cure. There was one option, and it was the drug that he had been developing for some time now. It was a strong depressant that worked to disable the body. It was utilised by bearsharks to bring about hibernation during the colder periods. Made from a decomposing seaweed, it was useful for putting a patient into a state where it was easier to operate on them. Gil went over to the sink and pulled out a pestle and mortar. Pulling out a sliver of tree bark and placing it in the mortar, he ground it to dust. The chemicals in the bark would help provide a little antibacterial for his open wounds. Gil would next pull out a few leaves and add them to the mortar, then grind them up too. These would provide a soothing effect to the inflamed area. After gagging once, Gil filled his mouth up with the liquid that he had been keeping deep inside him to mature. It was at the final test stages, but he reckoned that it was almost ready. He took the dust in his mouth and swished it around like a mouthwash so it would mix with his juices into a lovely concoction. Bending over Bazil, Gil would give the unconscious man a deep kiss full of tongue action. He would push the mixture into his mouth and force him to swallow it, avoiding the windpipe.

"Wake up Jackal." Gil would say while he straightened up and wiped the nasty drool from his lips. "I need to get to work now. Take your men and give me some space. Feel free to come back late tomorrow. By then he will either be on his way to recovery or dead."

Gil would start working on the drug then, working late into the night. Hours would pass and experiment after experiment would fail. The fishman wracked his brains and pulled on every piece of knowledge he had accumulated over the last few years. He was a caveman with a bunch of sticks and stones trying to create a car. Luckily, thanks to his experimental batch of Sleeping Beauty, Bazil's blood flow had slowed significantly. Thanks to his ability with fishman jujutsu, Gil could stick his hand in Jackal's blood pouches and feel the mixture. He had the ability to manipulate the chemicals into partitions but he was essentially doing this blind. He knew what he wanted, but he didn't know how it felt. If he had made the cure himself this process would be a cinch. Which blade of grass in this vast field was the one he was looking for?

Gil managed to prove that the cure was still in there, to some extent. When he mixed one part of Bazil's blood with twenty parts of Jackal's blood, the discolouring made by the venom disappeared. This was a relieving discovery, and showed him that there was a chance. However, as much of the mink's blood as he had, he certainly didn't have enough for twenty humans. This meant that the option of a simple transfusion and hoping that the blood was the correct type as a last ditch effort was not viable any longer.

The idea came upon him that he could try filtering out everything that wasn't the cure to increase the concentration. But he didn't have a good enough filter. He had simple filter paper, but that didn't do much to the blood mixture other than remove some of the blood cells. It was not discriminant enough to pull out the cure from the rest of the blood. And then, a breakthrough in thinking. This chemical, whatever it was, moved from the blood and into tissue, for this is how the paralysis occurs. This meant that this chemical had to be able to make the transportation between capillaries and the tissue cells. And what better filter than the body itself? Gil had an idea that could work in theory, but it involved going further than any other doctor was willing to go. Going over to the sink, Gil turned on the tap and put his foot in the sink. He covered his foot in water and began to wiggle his toes. Kappa Kata number ninety gave him the ability to shape water into razor sharp strings. The fishman would use this, turning a string toward his stomach. Like a vegetable peeler, Gil would take off a layer of epidermis off the top of his own torso. The control of his tool was such that he drew only a couple of layers of cells into one clean sheet of skin. It wasn't deep enough to hit any nerves let alone draw blood so it didn't affect him at all. What Gil finished with was a mostly transparent film made of his own green skin.

Carefully, he would use this as a filter for the blood. With a slow and methodical kneading of the blood against the skin, a slow drip of clear liquid was produced on the other side. Gathering this in an eyedropper, he then went over to a test tube with the venom inside. Squeezing the rubber nub, the clear liquid squirted into the beaker. Black eyes zoned in on the process, searching for any indication that there was something happening. And there, at the top of the test tube. The bluish colour was slowly fading away and being replaced with a healthy red. Gil watched as the cure slowly diffused through the blood sample. This was it. He had managed to isolate the cure as well as whatever other small chemicals were able to move through the filter. It seemed as though that with this highly concentrated sample, the cure worked with much better volume efficiency than with the transfusion trials. He was glad that the cure was simply mixed in with the plasma as this would mean it could easily be transferred and be absorbed into Bazil's system. But to treat the man, he would need much more than a few drops. He would then continue the filtering technique as well as simmering the filtrate over the kitchen stove top to bump the concentration even further.

Every so often, his eyes would dart over to the sleeping pirate. He still had to decide what he was to do about the dangerous situation that he and Jackal now found themselves in. The mink was now being actively hunted by the marines so it wasn't like they didn't already have enough problems without harbouring such a dangerous man such as Bazil. Gil was worried about what was to come.

exit