A Fairy's Tale (Eustass Kid & OC)

Chapter 36: The Arrival of a Familiar Stranger

Hanma was frantically rowing for what seemed like an eternity. He ignored the bone-deep fatigue in his muscles and kept his gaze focused downward to focus on his speed.

It was some time before he finally dared to look up and was elated to find that the grotesque form of the Kid Pirate's massive galleon was no longer looming over him. It had shrunk to half its size with the miles he'd put between them and showed no signs of pursuit. He wished he could stay and fight, but what choice did he have? He had to flee, he wasn't nearly strong enough to contend with the supernova crew.

The young Marine was just about to pick up the pace again when his eye was caught by a boat a quarter mile out to his right. He recognized the vessel from Windfall Academy's Nautical Studies course; it was a small one man fore-and-aft, built for superior maneuverability and speed. Hanma's heart fluttered with hope as he realized that this particular model was used mostly by Marines on stealth and intelligence missions.
Thinking that he'd found an ally, Hanma yanked in the oars and hastily shot to his feet, tearfully waving his arms in the air as he sucked in a breath to call for aid.

"Hey! Hey, I'm over-!"

In hindsight, it was a rookie mistake. His boat was jostled by a wave the same moment he stood, rocking the whole thing to the side at an alarming angle. Hanma shrieked as he was subsequently launched upward by the rising edge of the capsizing vessel and tossed headlong into the drink. He sputtered as he surfaced, squeezing his stinging eyes shut and clawing at the side of the upturned boat.

After a solid minute of frantic shouts for help, he was abrubtly yanked out of the sea by the back of his coat and tossed onto a hard surface. His savior scoffed when he immediately began blubbering frantically, trying to explain himself while figuring out how many different ways he could say thank you.

"Alright already, geez!" The stranger huffed crankily as Hanma wiped at his blurry eyes. "Hell in a handbasket, buddy, a Marine that can't swim? What kind of bootlick are you?"

Bootlick?? Frowning at the derogatory term for his profession, he squinted up in the direction of the slightly nasally rasp of a voice. As the seawater cleared from his vision, he was finally able to get a good look at him.

A man of average height was standing over him with his arms crossed, foot tapping irately at the bed of the boat. A mop of messy, golden brown dreadlocks hung to his shoulders as he stared at Hanma down the bridge of his angular nose. He was naturally lean, maybe even lanky if it weren't for the wiry muscles of his surprisingly well-built physique.
The man wore a black sleeveless shirt and a pair of loose fitting highwaters. The pants were held up by an inordinantly sized bandolier that was definitely not meant to be used as a belt. The whole outfit was topped off by a tan ankle-length cape that was spangled with cartoonish navy blue stars.

Sirens blared in the boy's head at the distinct lack of fatigues on his person. Not a Marine... but then, how did this outlandish character come to possess a Marine issued stealth vessel?

And why did he look so familiar??

The stranger's eyebrows rose suddenly as he belatedly noticed Hanma's pitiful state. Squinting, he propped his fists on his hips and leaned over for a better look at the bedraggled boy.
"Well shit," he huffed after a moment, "damned if you don't look like a sea king's supper. The hell happened to you? You need help or somethin,' buddy?"

Hanma didn't answer as his attention was suddenly monopolized by the assortment of firearms that decorated the dreadlocked man.
From either side of the bandolier/belt hung two flintlock pistols, one of which was, like the boat, distinctly military grade; the gun on his other hip had been customized to the extent that the original flintlock mechanics were impossible to recognize without the other unaltered pistol as a reference.