Our Blood is Red Too
Nov 25, 2014 5:21:29 GMT
Post by Mizuchi on Nov 25, 2014 5:21:29 GMT
The afternoon sun sparkled across East Blue and painted the small port town of Higan with its golden beams. Higanjima was a tiny island in this vast ocean, but it sat on a key trade route that made it ideal for merchant, pirate, and marine ship alike to stop at for a quick resupply.
The local tavern was a small, blue-roofed shack with a small counter and enough scattered tables and chairs to serve a few dozen people with no need for excess personal space. A handful of locals huddled around a trio of tables, enjoying a tall mug of the island’s famous frothy ale. Their conversations were loud and jolly, and the bartender stood behind the counter, raising his voice to join in on the conversation of his regulars.
A single marine in full uniform sat at the far end of the counter, as far from the owner as possible. A small cup of sake rested on the surface in front of him, half-filled with the crystal clear alcohol. The marine was adorned in full white and blue uniform , and he even continued to wear his cap indoors, the bill pulled tightly against his scalp to conceal as much of his face as possible from anyone not standing in front of him.
Just as the merry scene reached the peak of its volume, a foot breached the half-open door with a loud cracking kick, and a quintet of additional marines filed menacingly into the bar and immediately perching themselves around a table in the center of the building. Silence fell over the islanders’ tables, and the barkeep nervously wiped a dirt mug with a rag before one of the five newcomers spoke up.
“C’mon, man, a round of your top-shelf booze over here! What kind of establishment doesn’t rush to serve their protectors of justice, eh?!”
The man hesitated a moment, his eyes darting between his bottle shelves and the marines.
“Sirs, I’m afraid that I can’t serve every marine that dock in this island for free ever y day, or else there won’t be a tavern to serve anyone at all…”
“The hell did you say?”
The belligerent marine shot to his feet, a pair of his cohorts joining him as they strode to the counter. The supposed ringleader shoved a pair of glasses off the counter, the fragile containers shattering immediately and causing one of the local women to release a quick shriek. The bartender raised his arms defensively.
“Please, sirs, don’t do this. Surely your pay is enough to afford a drink or two.”
“It’s about the principle of the matter, man! Without us, you’d lose more than this crappy bar. This whole island would be under pirate control! Maybe this will knock some logic into ya!”
The marine raised a clenched fist and sent it flying forward. The bartender flinched, but his attacker’s fist remained frozen in the air, a mere inch or two from where the blow had begun. A light gray hand was wrapped around the marine’s arm, gripping it with enough sheer power to leave an instant bruise. The startled marine tried futilely to rip out of the vice grip, but flailed uselessly until his captor released his arm, causing him to fall backwards onto the wooden floor.
“The hell?!”
The four other navy recruits surrounded their fallen comrade and fell into fighting stances facing the stranger who had just knocked him down.
The tall man downed the last of his sake, set the cup back on the counter, and pulled off his marine cap to reveal dark hair, ear fins, and gray skin. Mizuchi smirked, the gleam of sharp, white teeth flashing for just a brief moment. The fallen marine finally regained his footing, his eyes immediately filled with shock and rage.
“It would be you, damned fish! Who the hell do you think you are, laying hands on an ally like this?”
Mizuchi twirled his cap on one finger and shook his head.
“I’m just a normal ensign trying to keep a few fellow defenders of justice from terrorizing an innocent islander. You wouldn’t want this reported to Captain Holden, would you?”
The enraged marine struck Mizuchi across the face with a closed fist, a powerful hit that forced the fishman’s neck to twist harshly to one side and immediately opened a small, bloody wound on his cheek.
“The captain would never take a damn fish’s word over five of his loyal human soldiers! In fact, you were the one causing a ruckus in this here bar, and we had to bet you to a pulp to put a stop to it! Isn’t that right, boys?!”
The other four men nodded and shouted their approval before completely surrounding their fishman target. Fists and feet flew in a barrage of thunderous blows, each hand and foot digging deep into flesh, rupturing blood vessels and sending their target reeling in every direction. The bartender and the regulars watched in horror for a solid minute before the men finally stopped their assault. Mizuchi had long since collapsed to his hands and knees, blood running down each of his limbs and his lips as he coughed up even more of the red liquid. The ocean native had not moved a muscle to flee or fight back during the entire incident.
The now bored marine ringleader signaled his comrades to follow him to the exit, tossing one last exclamation over his shoulder.
“Enjoy the crappy alcohol, fish. You and that place deserve each other. C’mon boys, we’ll raid the good stuff on the ship.”
And with that, they disappeared into the village streets. Mizuchi coughed again and rubbed a blackened eye before letting out a short sigh and hopping up to his feet with unexpected energy. He pulled his cap back down over his head and placed the money for his drink on the counter.
The bartender and islanders watched him in shock, their faces revealing a wish to help him as well as the fear preventing them from doing so. He cracked a small smile through bloodied lips.
“Sorry for the trouble, citizens. Marines should not act in a way that causes harm to the ones they are sworn to protect. Humans, giants, and fishmen alike, we protect the innocents on the sea who can’t fight for themselves. “
A pair of women seemed to have been emboldened enough by his words to temporarily overcome their apprehension and moved towards him, pulling strips of cloth bandages from their belongings. Mizuchi blinked with slight surprise, but did not protest as they cleaned and wrapped his most severe injuries.
“Thanks. I’ll be fine though, fishmen are very hardy and heal quicker than the average human. But our blood is still red, just like yours.”
He tilted his head and smiled beneath his cap.
“I’ve got to get back to the ship or I’ll be in even more trouble than whatever those idiots are concocting for me. Until next time, citizens.”
He exited swiftly before anyone could gather the ability or courage to utter a single word. Damage control with his superiors started now…
The local tavern was a small, blue-roofed shack with a small counter and enough scattered tables and chairs to serve a few dozen people with no need for excess personal space. A handful of locals huddled around a trio of tables, enjoying a tall mug of the island’s famous frothy ale. Their conversations were loud and jolly, and the bartender stood behind the counter, raising his voice to join in on the conversation of his regulars.
A single marine in full uniform sat at the far end of the counter, as far from the owner as possible. A small cup of sake rested on the surface in front of him, half-filled with the crystal clear alcohol. The marine was adorned in full white and blue uniform , and he even continued to wear his cap indoors, the bill pulled tightly against his scalp to conceal as much of his face as possible from anyone not standing in front of him.
Just as the merry scene reached the peak of its volume, a foot breached the half-open door with a loud cracking kick, and a quintet of additional marines filed menacingly into the bar and immediately perching themselves around a table in the center of the building. Silence fell over the islanders’ tables, and the barkeep nervously wiped a dirt mug with a rag before one of the five newcomers spoke up.
“C’mon, man, a round of your top-shelf booze over here! What kind of establishment doesn’t rush to serve their protectors of justice, eh?!”
The man hesitated a moment, his eyes darting between his bottle shelves and the marines.
“Sirs, I’m afraid that I can’t serve every marine that dock in this island for free ever y day, or else there won’t be a tavern to serve anyone at all…”
“The hell did you say?”
The belligerent marine shot to his feet, a pair of his cohorts joining him as they strode to the counter. The supposed ringleader shoved a pair of glasses off the counter, the fragile containers shattering immediately and causing one of the local women to release a quick shriek. The bartender raised his arms defensively.
“Please, sirs, don’t do this. Surely your pay is enough to afford a drink or two.”
“It’s about the principle of the matter, man! Without us, you’d lose more than this crappy bar. This whole island would be under pirate control! Maybe this will knock some logic into ya!”
The marine raised a clenched fist and sent it flying forward. The bartender flinched, but his attacker’s fist remained frozen in the air, a mere inch or two from where the blow had begun. A light gray hand was wrapped around the marine’s arm, gripping it with enough sheer power to leave an instant bruise. The startled marine tried futilely to rip out of the vice grip, but flailed uselessly until his captor released his arm, causing him to fall backwards onto the wooden floor.
“The hell?!”
The four other navy recruits surrounded their fallen comrade and fell into fighting stances facing the stranger who had just knocked him down.
The tall man downed the last of his sake, set the cup back on the counter, and pulled off his marine cap to reveal dark hair, ear fins, and gray skin. Mizuchi smirked, the gleam of sharp, white teeth flashing for just a brief moment. The fallen marine finally regained his footing, his eyes immediately filled with shock and rage.
“It would be you, damned fish! Who the hell do you think you are, laying hands on an ally like this?”
Mizuchi twirled his cap on one finger and shook his head.
“I’m just a normal ensign trying to keep a few fellow defenders of justice from terrorizing an innocent islander. You wouldn’t want this reported to Captain Holden, would you?”
The enraged marine struck Mizuchi across the face with a closed fist, a powerful hit that forced the fishman’s neck to twist harshly to one side and immediately opened a small, bloody wound on his cheek.
“The captain would never take a damn fish’s word over five of his loyal human soldiers! In fact, you were the one causing a ruckus in this here bar, and we had to bet you to a pulp to put a stop to it! Isn’t that right, boys?!”
The other four men nodded and shouted their approval before completely surrounding their fishman target. Fists and feet flew in a barrage of thunderous blows, each hand and foot digging deep into flesh, rupturing blood vessels and sending their target reeling in every direction. The bartender and the regulars watched in horror for a solid minute before the men finally stopped their assault. Mizuchi had long since collapsed to his hands and knees, blood running down each of his limbs and his lips as he coughed up even more of the red liquid. The ocean native had not moved a muscle to flee or fight back during the entire incident.
The now bored marine ringleader signaled his comrades to follow him to the exit, tossing one last exclamation over his shoulder.
“Enjoy the crappy alcohol, fish. You and that place deserve each other. C’mon boys, we’ll raid the good stuff on the ship.”
And with that, they disappeared into the village streets. Mizuchi coughed again and rubbed a blackened eye before letting out a short sigh and hopping up to his feet with unexpected energy. He pulled his cap back down over his head and placed the money for his drink on the counter.
The bartender and islanders watched him in shock, their faces revealing a wish to help him as well as the fear preventing them from doing so. He cracked a small smile through bloodied lips.
“Sorry for the trouble, citizens. Marines should not act in a way that causes harm to the ones they are sworn to protect. Humans, giants, and fishmen alike, we protect the innocents on the sea who can’t fight for themselves. “
A pair of women seemed to have been emboldened enough by his words to temporarily overcome their apprehension and moved towards him, pulling strips of cloth bandages from their belongings. Mizuchi blinked with slight surprise, but did not protest as they cleaned and wrapped his most severe injuries.
“Thanks. I’ll be fine though, fishmen are very hardy and heal quicker than the average human. But our blood is still red, just like yours.”
He tilted his head and smiled beneath his cap.
“I’ve got to get back to the ship or I’ll be in even more trouble than whatever those idiots are concocting for me. Until next time, citizens.”
He exited swiftly before anyone could gather the ability or courage to utter a single word. Damage control with his superiors started now…