ARC.

Welcome aboard... the rowboat

The wheels of the boat go round and round...

arc

task

meeting the jester

       ‘Future Pirate King’, the pirate told himself. Of course, becoming a pirate king on his own would be ludicrous. He would need... the support of others. Others- being that those who consider themselves to be human. While the Jester is no racist, he hasn't been exposed to enough cultural influence to recognize other races other than his own. While talking, he was alone – in solace of his own company. By his side, a large spear named Zeus’ Thunder. It was a reference to the sheer amount of butt- hurt it would cause in the future. The tip rested against the ground. Jester was to be found in a café, the tables near his own were empty – as was his own table.

      A single scroll, laid out across the table would peek the attention of a mercenary every other hour. However, no mercenary was interested enough to join Jesters table. ‘Weaklings.’ A shallow voice spoke from the darkness that was Jesters table. This would be your opportunity to vague manipulate yourself into the story, Sabo – this is a learning moment for you, by taking advantage of me writing that, you can state that you were the one who said that before lopping my head off. After Jester called out, discriminatory towards the remaining vacant of the tavern. Nobody had approached, but maybe… they were going to do just that conveniently after basically insulting everyone there. The sly Nickolas was alone at his table.

      “What the fuck did you just say about me, you little bitch?” The barman said, following up after Nickolas sighed another insult through his teeth. The jester has used the term fuck, sixty-nine times throughout his time being at that tavern- that of which being about two hours. Cunt, plonker, all of which mentioned multiple times. While the barman was yelling, spouting some nonsense about having four hundred and twenty confirmed kills in the navy Jester was distraught. His attention focused on the first person to approach his table, he would look up at them – into their eyes. Considering that Jester was seated down, unless this person was a midget of course, Jester would have to look up to look into their eyes. While responding reactively, had the situation called for it of course.

376 / 250

There, within this bar, sat a strange man. The table he sat at was empty and no one seemed to bother taking a seat and joining him, reason that this man didn't understand. No, this wasn't the man who had a scroll on his table seeking companionship on some job. This was a completely different table, it being behind that man looking for help. Why this man sat here behind another was simply because he didn't want to be the first to help another, there being no specific reason at all for this. Even though he did want to participate in whatever that man with the scroll on his table had.

Oh, but maybe the insult given might get someone to be the first, and defend their honor! Sadly, the hopes of this man not wanting to be the first were for not. As the bartender would the one to respond. A depressed sigh would escape this man as this just added to his woes. Though, it seemed he was too quick to get down as a dreaded boy would begin to speak to the man who needed companionship.

Quickly, he stood to his feet and drug his chair to that table. "Yes, please explain the job." He would say as he would adjust his necktie before sitting down. What this man's name was or what he would most likely go by was Dajjal, a simple and cute nickname he was given some time ago.

Dajjal, wore a special outfit today; one that he only wears for certain events. The most profound and prominent feature of this outfit being the mask. The mask was of a simple design; being just a mischievous smirk running from its cheekbones down to, slightly above, the jawline and arching back up to his opposite cheekbone. Granting him visibility are two crescent-shaped spots flowing downwards, forming a wicked portrayal along with the mouth piece.

Dajjal's upper body is completely covered by a connected jacket with three buttons on either side. The jacket's collars are flipped, giving view to a plant-like design on the inside and several diagonal lines on the higher areas. The jacket's end spots a split cape elongating to his feet. Underneath the jacket, Dajjal also dons a white shirt with many buttons and a small collar, as well as a small bow-tie around his neck. His lower regions are covered by a pair of pants spotting multiple lines jutting downwards. And to finish it he wears an magnificent magician hat that matches the color scheme of this outfit.

ooc: Why you trying to provoke me!!!

ARC.

Welcome aboard... the rowboat

The wheels of the boat go round and round...

the jesters habbits

       ‘Ayh- dog? Arou’ yur neck?’ The foreign-seeming Jester certainly spoke with an accent, one hinting to a more northern place. What was unknown to the man was the ferret that the midget-type tan guy had around his neck, to the uncultured Nickolas – it seemed like a small, midget dog. Which was the logical conclusion he drew. The Jesters weird mannered comment was a follow up after the man with the ferret spoke to him. He, Nickolas, brought his hand to his head to scratch his scalp a little. He was thinking, and thus was showing non-verbal signs that the midget would know what he was doing. Communication was an important thing in a violent world.

       ‘The NAYM is SPOOK.’ The Jester said, in a rather loud tone. He spoke with great charisma, in a jousting manner. After which Jester pulled his hand out from under the table, and spit on it. After doing so… he would extend it to the midget. ‘A sloppie kiss! … we call them,’ this was Jesters way of introducing himself. Spitting on his own hand and shaking the hand of others. He would test strangers using this method, observe their reactions and all that. As he had his hand extended, another voice spoke. As the voice spoke, it carried a chair with it. ‘The JOB, hmmm? The job entails killing ingrates. Ingrates! Infidels!’, he yelled, ‘Brutes and savages!’He leant back a bit. Coughing into his own hand from the yelling before proceeding. ‘Just read the dhamn scroll would you!?’ The scroll on the table would tell them everything they would need to know about his plans. Had they carried more interest in the plans and tasks Jester had then Jester would proceed.

‘We need to STEAL. I mean… THIEF… Or rather CONVENENIENTLY- find a rowboat to get to this godforsaken excuse of an island!’ He stated, grabbing his spear on his side and standing up. ‘Lets get a move on then, huh!?’

A slam against a wooden table, echoing from the distance, the bar man yelling angrily; ‘Oh could you just shut the fuck up already!?’

340 / 250

Dajjal would do as he was asked, even though the guy said it so rudely. What detailed was all boring, but he would retain the information he gained. "Alright, come one lets go!" Dajjal would say. As he would also stand up and follow the guy named Spook. At this time, if anyone, wanted to pay attention to him they would notice that he was short, shorter than Shizu in fact. Why? Well if someone asked he would say he was just a midget or that his Devil fruit powers were currently being used, both being lies but something people would believe. In truth he actually was a child, well he was revert into a child, some thing like a curse being randomly placed on him not that long ago. It was all pretty bullshitty but that was the truth sadly.

Being a child put him on edge and he was already observing his surrounding, and ready to act in anyway. As he was somewhat vulnerable as a child, as there were pedophiles out there that liked little cute boys like Dajjal. Just because he was vulnerable for more attack for shit reasons that didn't mean any skills that he processed when he was older had faded. He could kill still if need be.

'I wonder when this curse or whatever would fade, as this is getting annoying. I'm sleepy and want to take a nap. Maybe after we steal that rowboat I can take a little nap, wait nope. I don't trust theses guys that much, they might try to molest me. I don't want my no no parts touched, mister. So please don't harm me. Yea, that is what I should say when we get on the rowboat. Though, maybe in a cutie manner or whatever.' Derous would think to himself.


ooc: Sorry fro the late post guys