Cold Day, Hot Lead [open]

[Victoria Locke]

Thick fluff of gray clouds covered the sky and occasional rain fell upon anyone willing to go out. Frigid wind further chilled the air. Days like this should've been naturally quiet and peaceful, but today there was a small exception. In a lonely corner of the island of Micqueot, repeated assaults of sheer noise trashed the serenity. It started with brief whirring, like whistling of violent wind, before becoming a storm of rapid-fire gunshots and metal clashing against stone. This ended in what often sounded like a shriek and a curse, followed by a moment of perfect silence. Repeating again and again, it was too organized, rhythmical even to come from more than one single source.

And that source was slowly getting frustrated.

A lone woman with dark ponytail and chocolate skin was facing the bottom of a steep cliff at a rocky beach. She donned a standard marine uniform, only with a black coat, and clutched a strange rifle. Her breathing was heavy, knees wobbly and clothes absolutely soaked, but still her expression retained a sense of stubborn dedication and tirelessness. The stone wall in front of her had dozens of crude, red targets painted on it. Countless shallow holes riddled the wall, more so around the targets than on them. The woman silently swept her gaze across the painted targets, gritting her teeth in wordless frustration. This was nowhere near acceptable.

Her eyes shifted to her unusual weapon, a rifle with a rotating cluster of eight bronze barrels and a short ammo belt hanging from the side. It was still steaming slightly from the last attempt. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, took aim and squeezed the trigger. Again the gun whirred, before unleashing a stream of bullets towards the nearest target. However, after few seconds of firing, the spinning barrels climbed too high and the spray of lead carved a broken line on the stone. To add insult to injury, the marine's foot slipped on the wet stones and the recoil pushed her over in an embarrassing crash. The weapon fell silent once again.

The frustrated marine struggled up, rubbing her aching arms. Each time, she could hold her aim on the target just a little longer before getting overwhelmed. Still, it was far from controlled. Sooner or later, she always lost her grip. As long as she couldn't control the recoil completely, using the gun during assignments was out of the question. In addition to all the safety reasons, she didn't want any extra reasons for her comrades to keep calling her "Trigger-happy Vice". No matter how painfully accurate, she detested that nickname, or at least what people implied with it. That's why she practiced in secret, away from curious eyes.

And unfortunate bystanders...

With that in mind, she grabbed her gun and walked over to rocks where she had left her messenger bag, along with a can of red paint and some premade ammo belts. As long as she could hold her weapon, she would keep training. However, a sudden gust of wind chilled its way right into her bones, making her shudder and reconsider. Perhaps it was time to take a little break. She needed some new targets to accurately measure her improvement anyway. Picking up the paint can, the marine walked up to a bit smoother part of the wall and started painting yet another target. Even with horribly trembling hands, she managed to make recognizable circles.

Unfortunately, the break didn't last for very long as a sudden noise made her heart jump. It had sounded like a stone cracking against another, but the echo made it impossible to pinpoint the direction. Was someone there? It shouldn't have been anyone of her comrades. She had never told them where she went or what she did during her days off. Not even her superiors knew. On the other hand, no one lived around here… No, there was no time to hesitate. She suddenly dropped the brush and spun around, whipping out her revolver. "Identify yourself!" The shout bounced between the rocks, echoing quite far. Her cold glare scanned the surroundings. Something had definitely moved there.

It couldn't have been just her imagination… Right?

[Faust Eisenritter]

At first, there was darkness, the heavy weight of his eyelids refusing to open and a horrible, relentless pain in his skull. It was like his brain was bouncing against the walls of his skull, desperate to escape. He groaned quietly as he tried to force his eyes to open, as though something was holding them shut. Still, he managed to peel his eyelids back only for the sun to shine in his eyes. He groaned again, shutting his eyes as he raised his right arm - a mechanical limb made from a sleek, black metal. It blocked the sunlight from his eyes, allowing him to open them once more. But it was then he realized that there were worse things than the sunlight, which was already being blocked out slowly by gathering clouds - namely, noise.

The pain in his skull grew worse. Every second there was a loud bang - a pop of noise that hammered nails into his skull. What was this pain? What was this noise? He groaned and turned his head, only to inadvertently answer his first question. Glancing down to his left hand he caught sight of a brown bottle in his hand. Raising it up, he glanced at it for a moment before putting two and two together. His headache was a hangover, and wherever he was, he'd ended up there because he was drunk. But why? Normally he didn't get himself that dru-

Memories started flooding back from last night.

"No wonder..." he whispered, wincing as the bangs continued. He began to realize at some point that it was gunfire. Was someone fighting? He wasn't hearing any cries of pain. But then, it was wonder enough he could hear anything over the bangs of the gun. His head was throbbing. He let go of the bottle and grasped his head with both hands, rolling around on the stony ground. When would this stop? When would it end? He needed a hangover cure quickly. He wasn't sure if he could take any of it anymore. But just when he thought he was done for, the banging stopped. There was a silence, but then a voice demanding someone show themselves.

Who were they talking about? Did they mean him? Had he been found out here? He pushed against the ground with his mechanical arm, it being the only part of him that didn't feel terrible. He grit his teeth as he forced himself onto one knee before standing up at his full height of six feet and four inches, his arms slowly raised in an attempt to pacify whoever was demanding to see him. Before his figure had been obscured by a large boulder, but now that he stood over it, he could look across and see a young woman with dark hair holding a rifle. Even in his less than perfect state, he noticed that she wore the Marine uniform and relaxed slightly, giving his first smile of the day.

"Ah... Morning, madam," the Admiral spoke, trying to be positive in spite of the horrible pain. "I won't punish you for the noise if you don't tell anyone I was out drinking. Deal?".

[Victoria Locke]

Victoria’s instinct had been right. There was someone else here as well. That someone was quick to reveal himself, standing up from behind a boulder. Luckily, he didn’t seem hostile in the slightest. In fact, he looked quite friendly for someone who could easily be intimidating. Victoria relaxed her stance slightly, but kept the tall man in her sights. "Morning, mister..." While she returned the greeting somewhat coldly, the gears inside her head were turning quickly. She was sure she had seen him somewhere before. That outfit... and his face... Why were they so familiar?

Soon enough, the full realization hit the Marine woman. Her eyes went wide and the trembling got worse. This man before her was... "Admiral... Eisenritter..." Immediately after uttering the fearful words, Victoria holstered her weapon and straightened her back to a full salute, ignoring the pain coursing through her aching muscles. "I’m very sorry, sir! I didn’t know I was disturbing you, sir! It won’t happen again, sir!" Only after the respectful, if quite loud, apology, the Admiral’s words actually sunk in. Out drinking? Was he serious? Despite his smile, it didn’t sound like a joke. Now that she thought about it, something about him seemed bit off.

A seed of doubt sprouted in Victoria’s mind. The Admirals she had heard so much about wouldn’t act like this. They were all living legends and tireless defenders of Justice, not suspicious drunkards who snuck around alone. The fanatically loyal woman didn’t believe even for a second that a highly respected Admiral would even go drinking or suffer from something as petty as a hangover. No, such things were far beneath them. Furthermore, Admirals were busy people, leading countless men and handling incredible tasks, so ending up alone in such a remote place seemed more than unlikely. All in all, this man was nothing like the superhuman image Victoria had painted in her mind.

However, she could come up with one sensible answer for this strangeness. What if this man was an impostor? He could very well be a pirate who was trying to infiltrate the Marines for spying or sabotage. His appearance fit the photos perfectly, but she had never actually met him in person and probably wouldn’t even notice small mistakes. That was exactly what an impostor would count on. Then, after making a good first impression, he would probably ask her to lead him to the base, where he could easily do what he wanted, or he might just stab her in the back outright... Her eyes narrowed at the thought.

What exactly was this man up to?

Stepping closer, Victoria carefully eyed the tall man. "Are you alright, sir?" The honest concern in her voice rang clear, but there was something darker between the words, something she didn’t say out loud. "You look bit... pale..." As much as she wanted to outright call him suspicious, she was smart enough to hold her tongue. If she was right and revealed him right away, he might’ve gotten violent and she was in no condition to fight a man of his size. Worse yet, if she was wrong, accusing the Admiral of being a fraud would’ve been an unforgivable insult. Right now, she had to be careful and gauge his reactions.

[Faust Eisenritter]

The Admiral attempted to laugh a little, if only as an attempt to ease the situation, but the truth was that he was definitely not feeling the best. The lack of gunfire was certainly a plus, but his head was still pounding in pain. Booze was a good hangover cure, but he wasn't sure if he had his flask with him. He didn't remember bringing it to the Nobles' dinner, at any rate. After all, why bring booze when the dinner already provided all the booze you needed? Still, right now he wished he had some. Desperately so. He brought a hand to his head, rubbing it a bit as he allowed his mechanical arm to fall to his waist, his hand resting on his hip. Lowering his real arm from his face, he looked to the Marine and tried to keep a smile on his face, despite the pain that left him wincing a little bit.

"It's no issue, madam. And please, call me Faust," he told the girl as she attempted to apologize for not recognizing him at first. It was one thing to see photos of someone and another thing entirely to meet them, he knew. Still, he almost wished she hadn't apologized - her voice became rather loud as she rushed to correct herself, causing him to wince much more visibly from the pain in his skull. He blinked, forcing himself to continue smiling. He didn't want to bother the girl too much. He watched as the young woman stepped closer, remarking on his appearance. He looked down at his hand to inspect if she was actually right when she said he looked pale. Nodding a little, he looked back to the young woman.

"Yeah, well... I guess anyone would, with the hangover I've got," he attempted to make light of his own situation, chuckling a bit at himself. Hopefully his sense of humor remained intact long enough for him to find his hangover cure. His brain continued to feel like it was bouncing around in his skull, and his eyelids still felt extraordinarily heavy. He was tempted to shut them, but he was afraid of falling asleep on his feet if he did. The last thing a forty-nine year old man needed was for people to start thinking he had already turned into an old man. "I should probably get back to base. The guys are probably worried and I need a hangover cure pronto...".

The Admiral turned around, ready to leave. He was ready to take a big step forwards, but then he began to realize that perhaps forwards was not the right decision. All around him was stones and rocks. He could see the shore and the sea, but he had no idea what part of the island he'd ended up on. Which direction was the town? The ship? His memory of the last night was hazy at best, and after leaving the noble's dinner party, all he could remember was wandering into an off-licence and buying a load of booze. Faust sighed, scratching his head. Turning back towards the young woman, he gave a small smile as his cheeks turned a little red in embarrassment.

"Sorry, uh, madam," he began, flushed. "I don't actually know where I am. Which way is the base?".

[Victoria Locke]

On Admiral’s request to use his first name, Victoria just quickly brushed it off with a small headshake. "I can’t do that, sir." As far as she was concerned, calling someone by their first name included the assumption that they were equal. The sheer difference in rank alone made that impossible. An Admiral was leagues above her and calling him by anything else than his rank, title, or sir would’ve been an insult. ...Assuming that he was an Admiral at all. She wasn’t sure about that just yet, which was the other reason why she refused. The fanatically loyal woman had no intention of letting an impostor enjoy the highly respected name.

Victoria’s suspicions kept growing at the same rate as the odd man kept talking. So, he really was suffering from a hangover, or so he conveniently claimed at least. She wasn’t so sure about that. Over the years, Victoria had seen enough Marines who couldn’t hold their liquor. If this man was really as hangover as he implied, then his willpower was something legendary. He was standing and talking instead of trying to crawl into some dark place and sleep it off. It would’ve taken an Admiral to pull that off, but... Well, even the thought was just foolish. The Admirals would’ve never stooped so low.

When the man turned around to leave, Victoria took it as a cue to return to her business. However, she had barely turned to her paint cans when sheer shock momentarily stopped her heart. "The Admiral" said the very thing she had been fearfully anticipating. It immediately set off the alarm inside her mind. He, one of the most important leaders of Marines, supposedly needed directions to a Marine base. That was all she needed to be absolutely certain she was dealing with an impostor.

For a more relaxed person, it might’ve been kind of funny, but not for the loyal Marine... She was now absolutely furious. How dare this worthless, lying scumbag imitate the well-known and loved hero? Utterly unforgivable... Fighting every urge to just pull out her gun and plant a bullet between his eyes for insulting Admiral Eisenritter like this, Victoria slowly turned to face the man. Only for a fleeting moment, her eyes gleamed with a spine-chilling glare.

Within the next second, however, she regained her usual, coldly neutral expression. Her calm words didn’t betray her thoughts either. "I can show you the way, sir. I was just about to return to the base anyway." Walking over to her belongings, Victoria knelt down and started to fiddle with the strap of her prototype weapon. "Just a moment... I’ll gather my equipment..." Indeed, a moment later, she walked up to the tall man again, carrying her bag under her left arm and the rifle on her back. Her right hand was left free to slip into her pocket, but it was also itching to grab her revolver the second she was given an excuse.

"This way, sir."

While calmly heading towards the trail leading away from the beach, Victoria glanced at the Admiral impostor and attempted to casually break the silence. "If I may ask, sir, what brings you to Micqueot?" It was mostly a distraction to keep him busy, though she was still curious to see how he would react. A criminal like him probably knew nothing about actual duties of an Admiral and would just make some flimsy excuse like being here for a party or something equally foolish. It didn’t really matter as long as he thought his twisted plan was working. In the meantime, she would keep a close eye on him and stay ready to foil whatever he was planning.

[Faust Eisenritter]

"... Well, whatever you wish," he responded, rubbing his head. If he were in any other condition he'd argue that neither of them were on duty and were the only ones around, but he wasn't going to push it. She could call him whatever she liked. He shut his eyes as he stood in place for a moment, trying to regain some small amount of composure. It looked like until he got a cure he was going to be taking things very slowly. He swayed a little on his feet, but nevertheless remained standing. She spoke again about leading the way and getting her things but Faust simply nodded mindlessly, too distracted by the throbbing pain. Eventually he opened his eyes, only to find that the young woman had finished packing her things.

Nodding in understanding he began to move slowly, walking with the young Marine. His steps were slow and even paced, trying best to maintain some sort of balance and composure as he walked. The headache was a nightmare and his body felt weak. He was just so fortunate this was not the first time he'd ever had a bad hangover - it gave him a little experience. Experience he would have rather not had at all, but experience nonetheless. As they strode along the trail, moving further and further away from the beach, the Admiral managed to catch the words coming from the younger Marine and nodded to show that he was listening. In spite of the pounding headache he kept up his smile, if only in a vain attempt to keep his spirits up.

"Ah... Well, I remember some aristo... arista..." Faust trailed off for a moment, pausing to recover his wits in spite of the migraine. He began to recall the events of last night, attempting to recount as much as possible that he could actually remember. "Nobles. I arrived in Micqueot. Had my men out patrolling. Some guy wants to have a dinner party, so the World Government has me go... Something about trade relations... I don't remember much after, but I do remember wanting to drink until I forgot".

If he was in a better mood, he probably would have thought about how irresponsible it was that he'd gotten so drunk. Certainly it wasn't a great thing for an Admiral to gain a reputation as an alcoholic. Still, right now he could care less about how much he had drunk. What mattered was that had drunk it, and now he felt like his brain was being torn in two. He continued to half-walk, half-stumble along as he scratched his head. Turning his half-lidded eyes towards the young Marine, he attempted to force a smile.

"Well, it's probably for the best I don't say more. Lets just say nobles aren't my kind of people," he told her as he continued to walk. "So, what about yourself? Awfully strange to see someone practicing on their own. Don't they have targets back at the base?".

[Victoria Locke]

Little puddles here and there splashed under the unsteady footsteps as the duo travelled along the snaky dirt path off the beach. Their pace was slow, but Victoria didn’t mind. She wouldn’t have been able to walk much faster anyway. As expected, the impostor had no idea what he was talking about and was having great difficulties forming an even remotely believable excuse. It took all the self-control Victoria could muster in her exhausted state to keep her cool and not scoff at the obvious lies. No Admiral would ever want to drink until they forgot an important meeting with an honorable noble. Keeping those thoughts to herself, she just nodded and occasionally smiled faintly.

That’s it... Keep talking, scum... And I’ll pretend to believe you...

Much to Victoria’s surprise, the impostor actually bothered to ask something about her. Perhaps it was a ploy to try and get inside her head, but it wouldn’t do him any good. She could see right through him. Since it was part of the plan, she could as well humor him with the honest answer instead of the excuse she saved for her comrades. "They do, but..." A sad sigh escaped between her words. "There have been... numerous incidents... because of me." She gave the impostor a sad, cold glance. "People have gotten hurt. I am dangerous with guns." With any luck, that would stop him from thinking she was an easy target and from doing anything stupid.

Victoria closed her eyes and a memory of a familiar scene flashed into her mind.

When the Marine woman opened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by shadowy shapes. Sunlight was too bright and she could see very clearly. The ashy smell of gunpowder lingered in the air. It wasn’t much, but she still felt like she was suffocating. Her knees had already given in, leaving her sitting on the cold ground. A large figure was slowly approaching. It was a large man, donning the bright white Navy Officer uniform, but something was off. The front of the uniform had been torn apart with countless tiny holes. He calmly brushed his chest and squished shotgun pellets fell from the folds of the shredded cloth.

There wasn’t even a drop of blood.

The figure stopped before the shivering Marine. It looked more and more massive by every passing second. She could feel the sweat droplets running down her neck. The cold sensation was making her shiver. Finally, the man spoke, but not with anger. If anything, his tone was amused and quite mocking. "Well, well, another excellent assassination attempt, Private Locke. Your aim is nearly perfect, but your timing still needs a lot of work." Victoria slowly looked down, only to find herself squeezing onto an old shotgun, her very own shotgun. Few wisps of smoke were still escaping from the barrel. It felt like something cold and sharp stabbed into her heart.

Lifting her gaze, the Marine woman tried to gather her wits for an apology. "I- I a-am very so-sorry, sir. I didn’t t-think-" Her stammering words were cut short by another mocking comment. "You hear that, boys? Private Locke didn’t think before pulling the trigger!" The dark shapes around them, other Marines most likely, remained absolutely silent. Smirking, the officer spread his arms and looked around. "See? No one is even surprised anymore. Hell, I don’t think we have anyone here you haven’t tried to kill!" Other Marines roared in laughter. Victoria’s cheeks lit up with the brightest blush and the sheer shame was burning the cold sensation away.

Victoria opened her mouth to apologize again, better this time, but the officer just waved his hand brushed it off. "Save your breath, Private. I’ve already heard all of your excuses and decided that they are all equally lousy." He offered his hand and helped the still shivering woman up. She couldn’t even thank him when the officer turned around to walk away. "Alright, you pansies, I need to change clothes, but you know the program. Back to training!" The last echoes of laughter ended with a solid "Sir, yes sir!" and the life continued like nothing unusual had happened. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth in wordless frustration. How could she be so damn careless?

Training with others simply never worked out...

Back in reality, the flashback was over within mere seconds and Victoria opened her eyes again to continue her answer with just a small delay. "It’s just better for everyone if I train by myself. Less injuries that way..." Granted, she had never gotten into too serious trouble due to her trigger-happy nature. Some officers had even claimed to enjoy what they had called spontaneous Rokushiki training. She didn’t quite understand it, but it had something to do with how they could stop bullets with their skin or just vanish out of their way. Still, she had no intention of taking more risks. It was bad enough that she had accidentally hospitalized few of her comrades.

Trying to distract herself from the shameful memories, the cold Marine shifted her focus on the impostor again. Luckily, she didn’t have to come up with an excuse to talk as a quite important one conveniently appeared. In the distance, on top of a green hill, a familiar blue fortress awaited. The hill around it only had short grass growing, granting clear vision from and to the fortified position. It was much like tall monument of justice in the otherwise unremarkable area. Victoria lifted a single finger towards the sturdy building. "Over there, sir, the Micqueot Marine Base." They still had quite a walk left, but at least they could see their destination at the end of the lone road.

[Faust Eisenritter]

Even in the midst of a horrible headache and an uneasy feeling in his body and trying to focus on walking normally without stumbling, Faust still listened as she spoke. He wasn't sure what kind of answer he was expecting, but as he listened to the young woman's answer he found his smile beginning to slip. The young woman - Victoria - her mood dropped considerably as she recounted, bringing up incidents and the danger she posed with a gun. She didn't need to tell him any specifics in order for him to figure out, at least to some extent, what kind of incidents had happened. He'd seen it before. Not anything she had done, but other recruits and officers with their own issues.

He remembered his own young days, back when he was just a teenager who'd enlisted in the Marines. He was only sixteen at that time, but he'd been eager to enlist as soon as he could. First chance he got he took up training and got placed on a crew as a member of the Infantry. If he recounted it he imagined some might find it bizarre - to think that he too was once just a member of the Infantry. But he hadn't always been as high-ranked and strong. He'd had a long career to amass his accomplishments. And at the very beginning, he'd just been a young kid.

He remembered rushing out into battle first chance he got, picking fights with Pirates and rushing ahead during conflict. He remembered getting reprimanded by his superiors for his more reckless, risk-taking behavior. It had been about four years before he moved up and abandoned the ranks of infantry - four years to learn how to cool himself down and act like a real Marine. But it hadn't exactly been easy, he knew, and he knew it must not have been easy for this young woman either. He looked down towards her, his smile gone as he contemplated his own experiences and the experiences she described. He remembered that his recklessness hadn't just been caused by arrogance or a desire to hurt Pirates for what they had done, but his own fears.

"It's a bit difficult at first, I know," he told the young woman, placing a hand upon her shoulder. "Battles are chaotic and frantic. Everything's moving all around you and you feel the need to act quickly, so you try to lunge at everything in hopes it might be an enemy. There's no easy way past it, but you'll get better. Trust me. I became an Admiral, didn't I?".

He gave a small chuckle again before looking to the Marine base that the young woman pointed out. Feeling the headache pound again at his skull, he lifted his hand from the young woman's shoulder and began to hold his head again. Still, he smiled a little at the sight of the Marine base. At least now he could get something for the hangover.

"If only Miguel was here to sing Hallelujah," he joked about his fellow Admiral. Looked like things were finally looking up today.

[Victoria Locke]

When Victoria suddenly felt the impostor’s hand on her shoulder, her fingers immediately wrapped around the handle of her trusty revolver. She was mere seconds away from pulling out her gun and kneecapping the faker. However, his kind words actually stopped her. In all honesty, she couldn’t understand it. Why was this man comforting her? If he was just trying to make her lower her guard then why did she feel like he was taking honest pity on her? Slowly, her grip on the revolver loosened until she sighed and pulled her hand back into her pocket. There was no point in shooting him, at least not yet.

Or so she kept telling herself to keep her thoughts in check.

Finally managing an actual smile, albeit just a small one, the young woman nodded at the odd man. "Thank you, sir. I won’t question your judgment, sir." That would’ve been completely honest if she had actually believed even for a moment that this man was her superior. She never questioned the orders, advice or opinions of her superiors. Some would’ve called it blind loyalty, but Victoria called it absolute dedication.

However, since this man was just an impostor, the fanatically loyal Marine was free to silently disagree with everything he said. It wasn’t just out of principle either. She had been in the ranks for eight years and only managed to climb high enough in ranks to wear a personalized uniform. That along with her record of incidents was more than indication that this was the best she could do. For her, there was no such thing as getting better. No promotions, medals or fame. Many had already openly noted that the only thing inevitably waiting for someone like her was a swift and inglorious death...

And that was fine. Her life belonged to the Government and her superiors. If her death could be useful for them, she was ready to go in a heartbeat. Until then, she would give her everything to her superiors.

Naturally, Victoria had kept a close eye on the impostor actions while they had been walking. However, the way he moved and held his head were unusual. Either this man really wasn’t in a fighting condition or his acting skills were getting better. The distrusting Marine was having difficult time forming a plan. If he was really suffering, then pointing a gun at him at the end of the walk would’ve been bit excessive. On the other hand, she couldn’t afford to lower her guard in case he was just faking it. To make matters more complicated, a tiny doubt in the deepest corners of her mind kept whispering that he didn’t feel like a bad person...

Upon hearing the name, Victoria’s eyes narrowed and the immediate question slipped out as bit more threatening than she had intended. "Miguel...? You mean Admiral Van Helsing, sir?" She couldn’t believe this faker dared to joke about another Admiral so lightly, as if they were friends. Luckily, she managed to stop herself from snapping at him for being so disrespectful. Instead of chewing him out, she faked a smile and redirected her thoughts on the plan to keep the man talking. "I mean... If I may ask, how are things between you and him, sir? Are you two close?" At least it would be interesting to see what kind of lie the man would spin together.

[Faust Eisenritter]

Her mood seemed to be at least slightly better, he mused to himself. He shifted his gaze back to the Marine base, deciding to start walking again - or rather, shuffling. If anything, it was the attempt of a slightly nauseous man trying not to stagger or stumble. As a result his walking pace ended up becoming somewhat slow and labored as he continued down the long path to the Marine base. At least it was in his sights, he told himself. As it steadily grew bigger in his field of vision he'd know he was at least making progress, despite how desperate he was for the headache to just end as soon as possible. As he continued to walk he heard the young woman speak up, asking him about Admiral Van Helsing and how things were between them.

"Of course," he remarked, thinking back to the last time he'd met the Admiral in Lyneel Kingdom. It hadn't been perhaps the best circumstances to meet with the Admiral - in the middle of yet another nobleman's dinner party. A gathering of gentlemen who were anything but mannerly. If Faust were perhaps a more angry, irritable man he'd call them upper class twits. But then, when a bunch of men held big parties to show off their 'servants' it was difficult for a man such as Faust not to feel angry or irritated, even if he never lost his smile. "I... Well, he's not a bad guy. I've spoken to him once or twice, here or there. But he's not the kind of guy who talks about himself much. I'd like to call him a friend but... Well, he keeps his distance".

What was there to say of Miguel? He'd honestly tried inviting the man for a drink, but the Admiral seemed not too fond of alcohol. If Faust could be honest, he'd always been somewhat suspicious of it. Not the declining of alcohol, but the whole... Well, Angel business. Miguel had shown up one day - a complete stranger to everyone - with silver wings like an angel's on his back. He fought and climbed his way through the ranks and, to the public, he was known as a holy Angel working for the World Government. It was hard for a man as old as Faust to not feel suspicious. He knew the World Government very well - he'd learned exactly how far they were willing to go back when he was a Vice-Admiral. Who was to say it simply wasn't propaganda?

"Come to think of it, I never did ask about the wings..." he mused to himself. Oh well. Perhaps some day he'd learn.

[Victoria Locke]

Much to Victoria surprise, the impostor hesitated less than she had expected. His answer wasn’t half bad either. Well, she had never actually met Admiral Van Helsing in person, but the impostor’s description fit the things she had heard about him. This liar was good, yes, that had to be it. However, his last mutter was an odd one. Wings? What was he talking about? Of course, Victoria knew about the stories connected to Admiral Van Helsing. She had just always thought the reputation and title of Archangel were simply a metaphor for how he was one of the guardians of Justice, like an angel sent by heaven. Perhaps this faker was just taking the stories too seriously.

Finally, they arrived close enough to the base to meet a patrol just leaving. Upon noticing the arrivals, one of them gave a friendly wave and greeting. "Oh, hey! Back so soon, Vice? Usually you don’t return before the sunset." Victoria didn’t spare a second glance at him and just kept walking. However, for the sake of the facade, she spoke up. "Admiral Eisenritter here needs a hangover cure. Any of you know anything about that?" One of the Marines perked up visibly. "Hey, leave it to me. I know just the thing." With just that, he took off running back to the base. For all Victoria knew, he was probably just eager to get away from dull patrol duty.

Once the tired duo stepped inside the walls and the gate closed behind them, Victoria’s posture suddenly changed. Her feet took steady positions, body tensed into combat stance and eyes adopted her most chilling death glare. "That is far enough, sir..." The last word was spat out with venomous contempt, like she was trying to get rid of a bad taste. With a swift, well-practiced motion, she freed her trusty shotgun from the straps of her messenger bag, only to immediately aim the barrel at the tall man. "If you take even one more step, I will execute you on the spot." Needless to say, she wasn’t kidding. Haki wasn’t needed for feeling her killing intent.

Just then, the Marine dispatched earlier returned with a small, brown bottle in his hand. By the looks of it, he had really been running the whole time. Nonetheless, he proudly presented the cure to his suffering superior. "Here you go, sir." It wasn’t until an awkward moment later that he noticed his comrade and the confusion set in. Understandably, he was quite baffled. "...Err, Victoria, what the hell you think you are doing?" However, the cold woman remained silent and unwavering. Other Marines in the vicinity took notice as well and gathered closer. Some of them were also readying their weapons. However, they weren’t aiming for the Admiral...

But what they saw as a traitor pointing a shotgun at him. The situation was getting dangerous.

[Faust Eisenritter]

Needless to say, as they neared the Marine Base the Admiral felt incredibly grateful. The pounding headache he was suffering from would finally be put to rest and he could continue the day in peak condition. Or at least better condition than the one he was currently in. As they neared the base a patrol waved to the two of them. In an attempt to be cordial the Admiral gave his own small wave with his free hand, as the other was busy trying to massage his own temples. The throbbing pain was not exactly gone yet, after all. He was fortunate the young woman was willing to speak for him and ask for a hangover cure - he was certain he would have needed a few moments to collect his thoughts.

As the man left to fetch a hangover cure, the Admiral decided to stay put. He'd already done plenty of walking in his condition - he decided it would be best to just stand still and try to continue rubbing his head in an attempt to soothe the pain ever so slightly. Granted, it wasn't exactly a physical pain like a bruise, but he was desperate enough to try anything. He shut his eyes for a moment as he continued to try and push back the pain in his head, but in that moment the world around him suddenly became much more animated. The young woman suddenly turned on him, drawing from her bag a shotgun and aiming the barrel towards him. By the time he opened his eyes and turned to look towards her, other Marines had begun to take aim with their own guns and mark the young woman, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

"Execute me?" the Admiral remarked, his brows scrunching up in confusion. What was this all about? Execution? He wondered for a moment if this was some sort of insane joke, but the young woman didn't seem to be the kind for pranks. And even if she had been, right now the gaze in her eyes looked to be anything but joking. The Admiral turned silent, unsure what exactly to say as he saw all of the other Marines taking aim at her. What was going on? Was she a traitor? But what kind of traitor used words like 'execute'? In the midst of the confusion the Marine returned with his hangover cure in hand, only to sum up the entire situation with a single question.

What did she think she was doing?

"... Uh, Victoria? Could you... Uh, explain?" he questioned, his voice quiet enough that only Victoria could hear. He'd only known the young girl a short while, admittedly, but she hadn't struck him as some sort of traitor or spy. Granted, the whole point to being a traitor or spy was to not arouse suspicion, but if that was the case she wouldn't have led him back to the base. If she wanted to kill him, she could have done so back on the rocky beach. Or at least attempted to do so. But if she really was a traitor, then doing it in the middle of a crowd of Marines right in front of a Marine Base was not a smart move. So he doubted that she was a traitor. So then what was she? And why did she continue to point a gun at him?

[Victoria Locke]

When the impostor had the nerve to call Victoria by her name, the cold Marine was quick to correct him. "That is Petty Officer Locke to you." She would be damned before letting that friendly façade fool her. This man was a fraud and he would no doubt try to lie himself out of this. That was fine by her. He wasn’t going anywhere from a Marine base. If he got violent, she would gun him down. It would’ve taken an actual Admiral to survive a shotgun blast from this range, but this faker could never compare to someone so powerful. Otherwise he would’ve just kicked in the front gate instead of trying to infiltrate.

One of the Marines stepped forward to protest, voicing the thoughts that were already being whispered around them. "Stop it, Victoria! Are you insane? You can’t treat the Adm-" However, Victoria interrupted him before he could even finish. Her sudden, piercing words silenced even the whispering. "This man is not Admiral Eisenritter." She slowly adjusted her aim from his chest to his face, as if measuring the man. "I don’t know if it’s a really good disguise or one of those weird fruit powers, but this person is just an impostor trying to infiltrate the base. He already had you geniuses fooled, didn’t he?" The crowd started hesitating ever so slightly.

However, they didn’t take their aim off the seemingly traitorous woman.

Victoria briefly glanced around and gritted her teeth. What were her comrades doing? Were they really this blind? She had to convince them before they did anything stupid. "You wanted an explanation? Fine, I’ll humor you." Her cold glare returned on the impostor. "I had my suspicions from the moment you showed up." She remembered how something had seemed off about the man. "Your disguise is good, but your lies were painfully obvious." While Victoria hadn’t dealt much with supernatural, she knew better than to trust things at first glance. This world was full of so many strange things that could defy senses and even the laws of nature.

The loyal Marine took a deep breath to calm her nerves before continuing the explanation. "When you started talking, it became clear you didn’t know a first thing about how Marine officers act." She started slowly listing the biggest points in hopes that her comrades would finally come to their senses. Her trigger finger was twitching more and more with each word. "Going to a party of nobles... Drinking until you forget the whole night... Ending up lost on a remote beach with a horrible hangover..." For her, it was all so clear. Unfortunately, her comrades still didn’t seem to understand and kept their guns trained at her.

Victoria needed another moment to calm down, but it was slowly becoming futile. The venomous agitation was seeping into her words. "No Admiral would ever act like that. They are respected and feared icons of justice, living gods among men... Not some pathetic drunkards who don’t even know the way to the base!" She wasn’t just angry anymore, she was absolutely livid. How DARE this impostor imitate the great Admiral in such a half-assed manner? It was beyond insulting. She should’ve just shot him on the spot and taken the responsibility for not following the procedure later. But no... That wouldn’t benefit her superiors. This fool was only still breathing because he might be useful. Somehow...

In the meantime, Victoria opted swallow her Marine pride and keep her rage dangerously focused. "Now, I will ask the questions... And you can stop pretending to be Admiral Eisenritter. You will never be even half as great as him." Her confidence was absolute. She had this rat cornered and his lies wouldn’t help him anymore. Steeling herself for anything, Victoria finally voiced the two most important questions. "Who are you and why were you trying to infiltrate the base?" She would allow him to move a bit, if he wanted to remove his disguise for example, but if he tried to get closer, she was ready to pull the trigger immediately.

[Faust Eisenritter]

"I'm... The impostor?" Faust wondered, staring down the barrel that was now aimed towards his face. It took him a few seconds to fully grasp exactly what was happening, not helped by the horrible headache he possessed. It seemed the young woman had taken him for an impostor attempting to fake his way into the Marine base and impersonate the Admiral. But that still left him with questions - like why was the young woman convinced he was an impostor? Had he done anything suspicious? He tried to gather his wits and think, but fortunately the Petty Officer was willing to indulge him and explain her reasoning at length.

Despite how wrong it was, he was beginning to see her point.

He certainly had gone on about how much he'd drank and how he'd disliked dealing with noblemen. He did just show up with a bad hangover on a rocky beach. She remarked at length how convinced she was that it was all a complete lie - a terrible attempt at faking his way into a Marine Base. After all, she explained, what Admiral would get so drunk they end up on a rocky beach with a hangover? Was that the kind of behavior an Admiral exhibited? She certainly didn't seem to think so - in her own words, they were gods amongst men. Not pathetic drunkards as she called him. It made him flinch slightly. It wasn't every day you were chewed out for your behavior when you were an Admiral. Still, more than anything else, he was worried. Not just for himself, but for her.

"I'm not pretending," he spoke softly and calmly, trying not to get a sudden reaction out of the young woman. The last thing he wanted was for her to suddenly shoot him in the face - especially since it would no doubt be followed by her getting shot to death by everyone else. Still, what did you say in this kind of situation? The Admiral had been in all sorts of tough situations in the past, but this one was certainly not like anything he'd done before. He stared down into the young woman's eyes, his own green orbs looking rather desperate. "I can see why you might be suspicious, but I really am an Admiral. But I'm not a god amongst men. I'm just me".

What else could he say to try and calm the young woman down? How could he convince the young woman that he was alright? That he wasn't a fake or an impostor? He paused for a moment, glancing down at the young woman. What could he do to prove his innocence?

"What can I do to prove I'm not an impostor?" he asked, knowing it was unlikely he'd get much of an answer. But he had to ask. Right now, he was struggling to think of any answers. In an attempt to prove his innocence he began to list off things that, he figured, only an Admiral would know. He sincerely hoped it would work. "I can tell you where the Golden Den Den Mushi is located if you want. Or I can tell you about my... Uh, 'secret stash' of alcohol...".

For once in his life time, the Admiral was getting desperate.

[Victoria Locke]

It wasn’t even a small surprise that the impostor didn’t yield. Dropping his act would mean he had lost after all. However, Victoria wasn’t going to give up either. When the man claimed he was just a human, but still an Admiral, her eye twitched and teeth grinded together. She wanted to at least slap him from implying what she thought he was implying, but decided against it. His ridiculous lies had to be debunked one by one, in orderly manner. He wanted to sow chaos and confusion, obviously, but he wasn’t going to succeed. Also, she wasn’t sure if she could even reach him before her comrades ventilated her...

First, Victoria scoffed at the man’s offer show the item of honor given only to the highest ranking officers. "Tch, showing off a Golden Den Den Mushi won’t solve anything." She was quick-witted enough to back up her claim before anyone could protest. "It’s safe to expect that anyone skilled enough to pull off that disguise also knows how to make a convincing replica. Since we can’t test it under any circumstances, it’s impossible to know if it’s real or not." For once, it felt like the people around her agreed even if only on the last point. No one wanted to take a risk with a trigger of mass destruction.

Then, there was the point of his secret alcohol stash. The mere idea made Victoria lost her cool for a moment. "And stop insulting Admiral Eisenritter! I don’t care where you got that stupid idea, but he is not some lousy alcoholic who hides booze." She couldn’t even understand why this fool was so insistent on sticking to that laughable story. Was he actually trying to get a rise out of her? If so, he was doing a dangerously good job at it. "He is a loved hero who fought against a Yonkou and survived. Don’t you dare claim otherwise..." She practically snarled the last words before finally regaining her cool.

Slowly, the exhaustion from the earlier training was getting to the Marine woman. She could feel her thoughts getting slower, while the irritation was constantly growing. If she wasn’t careful, this snake of a man would get to her. Still, she refused to break the eye contact. "Give up already. There is nothing left to prove. I know you are an impostor." Defiant confidence burned behind her gray eyes. She was going to stand by her stubborn decision until the bitter conclusion. "These ever so bright soldiers should know it as well, but they are just afraid to admit it. I suppose I should congratulate you on an effective disguise..." The Marines around them remained silent, unsure what to do.

Taking deep breaths, Victoria tried to gather her thoughts for a counterargument. "Besides, if you really were Admiral Eisenritter, you would’ve taken me down the second I aimed my weapon at you." After all, weapons were irrelevant when the level in strength was great enough. "A real Admiral wouldn’t allow a mere subordinate threaten him, no matter what. Loyalty must be absolute. Traitors have only one fate, as all Marines should know." While it may have sounded unnecessarily cruel, it was how Victoria saw the matter, how she had been taught to believe. "But you can’t do that, can you? Instead, you are desperately searching for an escape route." A malicious smirk appeared on her lips.

"What are you so afraid of anyway, faker? ...Jail? ...Dying? ...Or me?"