[color=darkslategray]"Boomboomboomboomboom!"[/color] bellowed the deep, hearty laughter of "Bullet" Bill as his body transformed back into a recognizable human form, no longer resembling a cannon. Previously it seemed to be his crew's favoritism toward cannons that inspired the man's epithet, but after seeing his strange and unique power, it was clear the nickname had separate origin. [color=darkslategray]"I was prepared fer a mutiny, but I didn' think it'd come so soon. 'Spose tha's what I git fer lettin' 'im stay on as me first mate, ay?"[/color] The captain smiled broad, hands placed on his hips, but the rest were not so quick to join in his jubilence. The shock that their former captain, the man many had thought be be borderline undefeatable, had been so easily dispatched through the wall, it left them catatonic. Then there were the rest, who still hadn't yet recovered from the idea that Pike had lost in football! Boy, were they in for a surprise as soon as they registered everything [i]else[/i] that had just happened... Bill swept his arm out across the hall, presenting it. A couple of the previous matches had left their mark, dinged up the place, scuffed up the stone here and there, but the last match? The room had been left is a state of complete disarray. Total disrepair. Why, anybody would be hard pressed to take a single step without sinking into a hole or stubbing a toe on some rubble. [color=darkslategray]"As ya c'n see, tha place's a little banged up, na much good fer another round'a competition, aye?"[/color] The large, rotund man clapped his hands together. [color=darkslategray]"So looks like we're headin' ou'side fer our next match! Boomboomboomboom! We'll all escor' one another out ta tha courtyard hedge maze! Which means... Chaka Ram, yer up!"[/color] The Buccaneer officer wearing the gas mask, full body armor, and dusty coat stood up, holding a rifle in their arms. [color=ivory]"Yessir,"[/color] they responded in a curt, calm, and confident tone. The kind of tone used by trained soldiers, those fully thrust into the lifestyle. At least that's what could be made out from the heavy distortion, as the mask had some sort of modulator disguising their voice. Chaka Ram began to lead the entirety of the Buccaneer Pirates, or at least those still uninjured and not attending to the injured, straight out the front gate of the large hall. Warily, Runch's crew also stood up and followed out, save for Runch. He did nothing warily, but threw himself cheerfully into the march, having a grand old time with it all. Of course, each of the Red Rums were encouraged to move as well. Together everyone marched forward, out the door, then down a pathway they had seen on the way up to the castle, but hadn't had the luxury to explore. The walk took about five minutes, and they all arrived to an incredibly large [url=https://deadentertainment.com/uploads/the-rotting-corpse-hedge-maze-5591px9245.png]hedge maze.[/url] Two entrances, side by side, clearly led off in entirely different directions. Just outside the maze stood another set of bleacher stands high enough to see over the entirety of the maze, where everyone was guided to take their seat. Only one remained standing: the owner of this contest, Chaka Ram. [hider=Character Box][center][b][color=ivory][h3]Chaka Ram "The Silencer"[/h3] Sharpshooter of the Buccaneer Pirates Consumate professional. Very mysterious.[/color][/b] [img]https://pre00.deviantart.net/319a/th/pre/f/2013/330/6/4/fallout_4_cosplay_by_sntp-d6vsrzz.jpg[/img][/center][/hider] [color=ivory]"My contest is simple. Paintball. We each get a gun and enter from one of two different entrances you see behind me. The contest lasts thirty minutes, or until we both run out of ammo. Limb shots score five points. Body shots score fifteen. Head shots are worth fifty points. Once the match is over, our bodies are inspected and points tallied. Obviously, the winner is whoever has the higher score. Who will be my first kill?"[/color] Amidst the Krunch Krew, one member shook in anticipation, and annoyance. She stood up tall as she could, and while that was not very tall at all, it certainly was enough to draw attention, for she had such a commanding presence. [color=olive]"Ain't nobody gonna beat me in shootin'! 'Specially not some honky-ass creeper in a freaky mask!"[/color] [color=orange]"We cannot see if they're white,"[/color] Hachirou commented. [color=orange]"We cannot even tell if they are a man or a woman."[/color] [color=olive]"Man, you focus on all the wrong details, bitch!"[/color] The honey badger tilted her hat back and hopped down the bleachers until she came face to knee with Chaka. [color=olive]"I'll put so many caps in yo ass that people'll be drinkin' cola from it!"[/color] [hr][hr] Smith cocked his head as Dirk rambled about, first about directions, then calling himself a worthless coward, finally providing a course of action for the duo to follow, heading that way with the conviction of a zealot. This gave the ninja pause for only a brief moment as he reconsidered following the directions of this clear lunatic. Regret was instant, but Smith had to admit that Dirk's thought process, destroying the cannons along the wall, was a good one. They would eventually be leaving this island, and in the case they were being chased away, it would benefit them to take out the enemy artillery. Dirk could hear Smith grunting and heaving, shoving the cannons from their placements and over the wall, as the helmsman made his way to the next tower of the fortress. His steps punctuated with the crashing of large metal monsters against the stone wall, and rocky outcroppings beneath. He had finally reached the tower and opened up the door when another crash occurred, far louder and drowning out the cannon-destruction of Smith. That was because this crash had happened right before Dirk's very eyes. The tower, which appeared to be a lookout point complete with spyglass, and a small den den mushi (likely only with enough range to cover the island to report to other sentries), had suddenly and irrevocably become wrecked as a large man wearing a tiger print coat blasted straight through the wall! He crashed onto the far end of the room, leaving huge cracks in the stone. His clothing and skin was blackened from some sort of gunpowder based explosion, and one of his legs had been completely shredded, clearing the epicenter of said explosion. It was bleeding out--badly. The man fell from the wall to the floor face first, unresponsive and with white eyes.