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 Bloody Good Service [EP - I]

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Brood X. Bach

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Name : Brood X. Bach
Epithet : Tooth-Decay
Age : 28
Race : Human
Faction : Pirate
Crew : Primetime Pirates
Ship : Big Time
Crew Position : Captain
Devil Fruit : Amai Amai no Mi
Haoshoku : 5
Busoshoku | Kenbunshoku : 5
Attack (ATK) : 510
Defense (DEF) : 225
Reflex (RX) : 300
Willpower (WP) : 300
Level : 55
Experience Points : 5500
Bounty : 225,000,000
Berries : 2,650,000
Posts : 121

PostSubject: Bloody Good Service [EP - I]   Fri Apr 21, 2017 6:37 am





The behemoth of a ship known only as the Big Top, careened towards the docks of this rather lavish and expensively decorated island. It was here that those who operated in this so called "Paradise" found themselves vacationing. Taking time off their various enterprises, both legal and illegal. It was this reputation for excellence that drove the Primetime Pirates to venture here before doing anything major in this...first half of the Grand Line. As the massive beast found itself rest at the ports, the crew aboard the Goliath found themselves to be quite restless. Considering the sheer mass of the crew itself, and the potential influence that would soon come to the crew should they accomplish their own goals here in this variable wonderland, the captain of the Ship was ready to dig into the coffers of the mastodon so that his people could enjoy themselves. As their red-oak drawbridge found itself lowering, a loud craning noise indicative of rusted metal and worn out gears could be heard echoing throughout the airspace.  With a massive thud did the large wooden panel find itself resting upon the pearl white-painted maple that made up the port. The lack of dust kicking up spoke to the quality of the resort itself. The sounds of footsteps could be heard just a little after-wards, however. Thumping without any unison, chaotically. They had arrived.

In his own signature style of clothing, the dark skinned, snow white haired, captain of this veritable whose who of psychopaths, cutthroats and jokers found himself waltzing with enough pep in his step that he could do naught but smile underneath that massive coat that obscured his facial features. The rather sizable captain was not a giant like many in the world happened to be, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. He was imposing in his own way. In a way that was not so distinct and far more subtle. Though he was aware of the very nature that exuded from his figure on a regular basis, he too was overwhelmed by the negative aura that typically accompanied him. Especially considering that the very smile that would so rarely perch itself upon his face had faded as soon as the heat from the overbearing sun found itself beating down upon his brows without mercy. It was clearly a very tropical environment, he wondered what wonders would be at his leisure here. His mind raced as he sought a way to get his name large enough to accomplish his true goal. The very thought of such an event seemed to cause his face to contort into it's usual expression of advanced anger. That bottomless rage that seemed to contrast the child-friendly nature of the madman's powers. It was...unique. So much so in fact that it was starting to become some sort of acknowledged personality trait. Making acting a chore for the male. At any rate, he rarely had any reason to lie. He was a blunt, disastrous man.

Behind him came those who he had partitioned as part of crew with his own exploits. Each one showcasing their personalities in full blast as they followed behind him. To his immediate left walked the blonde bombshell, Sasha "Battle Ballerina" Platypus. Whose crossed arms accentuated her figure underneath her bosom, while her bright red dress draped down close enough to hover only centimeters above the platform in which she walked. She seemed annoyed, which was not too hard to guess once one looked to the two behind her. How unfortunate for the bombshell that she had to deal with listening to the drunken banter of Licorice Larry, accompanied by the egotistical perversions of Dirty Desmond. Who both talked about how excited they happened to be about the selection of vixens aboard the Island that they were able to see from starboard of the ship. Larry held in his hand spiced rum, and wore his large coat over his shoulders like everyone walking down the plank did, save for their captain. He didn't have a shirt on however, exposing his fat belly with the red hair that covered him like a wildebeest. Desmond on the other hand wore a pink muscle shirt that said "Watermelon Felon" on the front of it in green letters. The rest of the crew wore colorful outfits as well. A proverbial conclave of colors and sequins. Mister was in a pink hoodie with booty shorts affixed to her backside, Cotton was in cyan swim trunks, Mama was in a lime green tuxedo. It was quite amusing.

It seemed as though it didn't matter in the end however, for despite their colorful looks, they garnered looks for other things. Their bounties being that very such thing. As the leader of the crew found himself approaching the entrance of the building, he could hear the whispers of those who had heard of the menace of the North Blue. Of the debauched slaughter attributed to his name. His eye's would peel away from one person to another, moving so frantically that he looked even more shifty than he normally would. Reaching back with his hand, Larry instinctively handed his rum towards the captain, who took it and started to drink down the disgusting brew before slamming it onto the ground with force. Entering the building and stopping at the counter. His crew heading deeper inside save for his right hand, Sasha. He'd look upon the receptionist, who was sweating because they didn't want to be...cannibalized...by this upstart. In a deep voice rivaling that of a demonic entity, the volatile captain spoke up. His mannerisms and demeanor made it quite hard to predict what was about to happen. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume that this madman was going to peel this innocent party from skin to bone. In truth, there was little that could be done about it. No one on the island was a considerable threat. "We're checking in. The name should be James McCoy. That is who I am. I trust there are no...issues?" He questioned, to which the clerk said nothing. Petrified by his imagination.



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