[center][h3][b][u][color=088A85]M a r x o [/color][/u][/b][/h3]

[IMG]http://i60.tinypic.com/drf4uf.png[/IMG]

[color=088A85] “It seems more like years.  ”[/color] , spoke Marxo as he sat across from his companion. The rudeness of the sea had tied these two together. He could think of no better teammate than his .  He turned to speak to the waitress. [color=088A85] “As for me I’d like your best brew and a pack of smokes. I’m parched and my cigarettes are quite soaked.”[/color] With this response he turned his attention to the rest of the bar who stared at the team idly, as if they had made some sort of mistake. Maybe it was the beat up pirate hunter, or maybe it was the marines at the bar. Either way Marxo knew there was someone itching for a fight . He was always happy to obliged in the calmest manner.

Before he could begin to weed out the fighters something caught his eye. It was the only fishman in the tavern. His was stylishly huge and had the features of a great white. Beside him was a beautiful young women . He couldn’t help but stare. Maybe that was why he felt the wrong presence. He began to ask Nabil. [color=088A85] “Hey Nabil. Don’t you find something odd about the fishman and his little companion. I mean their just a little more odd than us, don’t you think .[/color][/center]