Serious: Pursuit of a Criminal (Closed to the invitees.)

The town of Rhybergard was a rather unassuming place: it had a harbor, of course, and it served as a wonderful pit stop for merchants, marines, passenger ships, pirates... oh that's right, pirates. Yeah, basically every walk of life visited Rhybergard, and man was this town crowded. During the day, it's basically impossible to avoid bumping into someone rushing along to fulfill an errand: as such, a well known pirate or Marine could be walking through this town at the same time, bump into each other, and keep moving as if nothing had ever happened. It's one of those kinds of towns. Now, the roads have plenty of vendors and stalls, but the real gems are in the buildings. There are quite a few decent shops for weaponry (if you like that sort of thing), clothing, costumes, disguises, satan garments... and the restaurants. Well, suffice to say the word 'restaurant' is being a bit generous: most of the well-frequented establishments are the pubs, bars, taverns, and the single brothel on the island.

It was in one of these bars, the Cantankerous Child, the cooks were famous for a bad temper, though their newest employee wasn't exactly... easily angered. He simply worked in the open-aired kitchen, fully in view of the patrons. Though his dishes had been marketed as 'specials', referring to the temporary nature of their presence, they had graduated into full-fledged specials due to their amazing taste. He was a fast worker as well, quickly finishing the many orders he got for his dishes, handing them out to the servers as fast as he could. Quite honestly, he was glad that people were enjoying his cooking so much, though it couldn't be seen on his face: all he had was a straight, unchanging poker face.

Because this man wasn't here for this job, he was here for another reason. His cooking skill was being talked about through the majority of Rhybergard, and that was exactly what he wanted. As a bounty hunter, he knew that pirates really couldn't ignore the allure of good food, and if you added alcohol into the mix (like a bar certainly did), it was like leaving out sugar for flies. Except, in his case, he had flyswatters at the ready: himself and his little sister. The pair of them had come here to catch a rather notorious criminal known as Fredric Gasparde, who was renowned for pillaging villages and killing whomever opposed him: which, most of the time, was innocent civilians. He had a crew of some eight men, though they were small fry: barely recognizable on the radar. Gasparde, however, was a threat to everyone, and this man planned to deal with him.

Mackenzie Smith's biggest problem at the moment, however, was finding Gasparde... the man was a sneaky, sneaky rat.

"I got yer cinnamon right here, Mack," Abigail Jaqueline Smith chimed in, handing her straight-faced big brother the canister of his choice.
The eighteen-year-old grinned up at her sibling from beneath the rim of her Stetson cowgirl hat.

She knew that they weren't really there- in the buzzing harbour town of Rhybergard- to take up the position of bar employees, but all the same, she quite loved the time that she got to spend, working in the open air kitchen with her brother.
He didn't call her "Abigail Jaqueline" of course...and when she was taking and serving the orders of customers, she preferred to introduce herself by her much preferred nickname: "AJ".
After all, Abigail Jaqueline was a mouthful.
AJ? Well that was a lot more..."bite-sized."

The Cantakerous Child's newest part-time waitress, dropped her voice to speak to her brother, not wishing for anyone else to accidently hear their secret agenda. "No sign of Gasparde yet...I ain't talked to anyone who seemed like they'd seen anyone matchin' the ol' rat's description either...I'll keep makin' small talk though..."
Fredric Gasparde was a hazard to all innocent people, as far as AJ was concerned and like her brother, she was bounty hunter, fully committed to bringing him down...

"Don' sweat it, bro...we'll get him," she assured Mack. Maybe he didn't show it, but she could see his furtive concentration and his frustration with the fact that their incognito target was seeming near impossible to catch.
"Have ya got the order fer table five yet?"

The weather was quite enjoyable, the young marine supposed. Yes, quite enjoyable, though he had never been one for going outside.
But that was part of the deal when being a marine recruit, the tiring time trying to find the trouble they were looking for right now.
It was "they" because it wasn't only him, which would certainly have been preferable. At least as long as he wouldn't have to face the trouble they were looking for.
The trouble had a name. Not the trouble next to him, he supposed she had a name, but didn't really bother to learn it, Meg something or the other. Was it Mag? Maybe it had been Mel. Who even cared?
The trouble whos name did matter was Fredric Gasparde. Now that was a name to remember. Not that it was, in itself, much of a dilly denomination, but the man behind it, the young man understood, was. He was the man they had to look like they were searching for, while carefully trying to avoid.


As for the young marine recruit himself, his name was Scott Spencer, which was, in his mind, definitely a notable name, though he did not like to pronounce it, and so had casually skipped the introduction to his partner of the day.
It wasn't like she had tried to take it up, at least not that he remembered. Then again, he was quite good at ignoring anything his partner might or might not have said, with the slight expectation of anything containing the name Gesparde, since that would, of course, require immeadiate action.

The smell of freshly roasted food reached his nose, and he was once again reminded that he hadn't eaten in almost two days. He really couldn't change it... It wasn't like he was on a diet, but that the last results of his training had been, he had to admit, almost prenaturally poor. Not that it was part of the marine program to deprive its soldiers of food, no... the other recruits had taken care of that.

He looked into the direction the smell seemed to come from longingly. Apple, if he wasn't mistaken.
His light eyes searched for the source, and as they spotted it, Scott stopped in his tracks, not because of the food itself, but because he now knew that he would not move another step until he had tried the food in that tavern, or bar, or whatever that was.
The Cantankerous Child. How beautiful. How gorgeous...
Not paying any attention to his partner, he took a step towards it, and could hear his stomach growl desperately.
He was on duty.... But the food!.. But he was on duty... But the NAME!
Scott stood there, lost in thought, simply staring at the building, possibly making some of the guests quite uneasy.

As if being one of the only women there wasn't enough... They just had to add insult to injury and stick her with the flagpole wannabe. It was like the supervisor was trying to screw her over by pairing her with another misfit. No matter. Mel would show them, one way or another. Someone was gonna have to bag this Gasparde hoodlum, why not her?

Her fingers rapped on the hilt of her sword uncomfortably as she followed behind-

Wait, what was his name again? Oh, right. She never got his name, conveniently enough. At least he was tall enough to move through the crowds with relative ease, until he decided to stop dead in his tracks and stare at some bar like a deer caught in some headlights. She didn't notice his lack of movement until she had already bumped face first into the guy. Figures; not like she should expect any more from such a person.

"Thanks. For the warning. I appreciate it," Mel remarked, her sarcastic tone apparent. She craned her neck to look around the fellow marine and narrowed her eyes to take a gander at what had caught his attention. It wasn't long until she realized that it wasn't so much the view, but the smell. Standing there, not far behind him, she appeared perfectly unfazed by the savory smell looming from the nearby bar. No checking out the local cuisine while on duty, even if the scent was absolutely fantastic. That's what she told herself at least. Her stomach didn't seem to get the memo. It grumbled violently, causing Mel's face to flush in the slightest.

"... It wouldn't hurt to take a peek, would it? It's perfectly legitimate to assume that Gasparde might be in there. There's no reason for him not to be. Good, it's settled!" Before the other man had even the slightest chance to respond, she put her hands up to his back and attempted to shove him inside. The moment she cleared the door, she causally made her way to the nearest open table and sat down. Just a bite to eat, then off she'd go. No harm in that.

Mack wasn't that surprised at his sister appearing at his elbow, merely nodding to acknowledge her presence before accepting the aforementioned canister from her. He sighed, quickly moving to deal with several of the dishes he was cooking at the moment. He moved from one thing to the next, leaving the disgusting meat orders to be dealt with by the other cooks the place had working full time. He handled the many, many special orders... he never offered some of his best creations to just anyone: his special turnovers and crisps only went to him and his sister. Well, unless it was something special, of course...

Which reminded him, he needed to make some of those for before their confrontation with Gasparde. If they didn't prepare, it was likely he'd best them: rather easily in fact. So, he got his hands on several apples, picked up the cinnamon from earlier, as well as several other ingredients, and set to work making some apple crisps and apple turnovers. As he worked, he noted the people who continued to stream into the tavern, watching for anyone who might look like the description given of Gasparde. He also noted what his sister said, nodding again and glancing at her with a look that said 'Great job, sis.'

Her reassurances were really appreciated as well... he was almost beginning to think they wouldn't ever be able to find Gasparde. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards a bit, his version of a smile. He really appreciated his sister being here: he nudged his hat up a little bit, also his variation of 'tipping your hat' to someone. He nodded in reply when she asked about table five's order: he had almost left it on too long. He quickly moved to place some soup into rather large bowls, as well as grabbing the steak another cook had made, and after garnishing it with several spices and veggies for a side dish, he placed the plates, bowls, and assorted other things onto a tray, before handing it to AJ: he knew it wasn't nearly heavy enough to cause her problems.

It was at this point that he noticed someone coming in out of the corner of his eye: a Marine, by the looks of her. She sat down at an open table, and a man who seemed to be a fellow Marine was standing just outside the tavern. What could they be here for? Perhaps they were searching for Gasparde as well? Perhaps they had a similar idea to the Smith siblings... or maybe they just had the munchies. Regardless, it was imperative that they were fed. "AJ... look. Ah think them Marines are lookin' fer Gasparde as well... See if ya can get 'em ta get tha turnovers or tha crisps... we should help them out as bes' we can, righ'?" Wow, that was weird: Mack had talked. AJ was certain to realize this was important, as he gestured in the Marine woman's direction.

He got back to work quickly, making sure he was making the crisps and turnovers properly: now it was more important than ever to make them correctly.

AJ watched as her brother flitted around the worktops, his skill and efficiency when it came to culinary arts never ceasing to astound her and the sweet smell of his delectable special orders acting as a major impediment to actually leaving the kitchen again. The younger Smith sibling smiled up at her brother from beneath her own frayed Stetson, returning his gaze with a look that said: "Nice work? Me? Awh shucks, bro, I'm jus' runnin' my mouth...yer the real star o' this show..."

And it was pretty darn true too. In AJ's eyes, Mack made the other cooks around him look like amateurs. So what if he didn't like to handle meat? It wasn't like he couldn't do well without the use of it.
Especially when it came to making his special turnovers or crisps...and the word "special" didn't just encompass the taste of the delicious apple snack-foods either.
AJ couldn't help but smile when she noticed that her reassurance went down well. She hated to see her brother irked for any reason on a regular basis and since his cooking was so vital to their plan to lure Gasparde into their hands, she especially needed to keep her older brother's spirits up.
AJ flicked a few loose tendrils of blonde hair from her eyes before scooping up table five's orders on to her arm with ease. It was a big order but, as her dear "Big Mac" knew, it was nothing that she couldn't handle.

She was about to give her brother one of her usual: "Good hustle, bro..." glances but he cut her off, much to her surprise, by actually talking.
Mack never spoke unless it was completely important and/or utterly necessary- so from the moment the first words left his lips, AJ knew to stay sharp and listen.
The younger bounty hunter followed his gaze to the two newest additions to the bar-crowd. Sure enough, they were both marines- a man and a woman- both armed, but not outwardly hostile seeming.
AJ nodded. It was a safe bet that they were, indeed, after Gasparde too. Truthfully, the Smith siblings weren't fixated on collecting any bounty Beli or accumulating fame; the two just wanted to see a devious rogue brought to justice and taken off the streets and if it wasn't them doing it- so be it. They were willing to help anyone who fought for their cause, regardless of who the target was or how much money he had on his head.

She winked to her brother, giving him a knowing smile. "Good idea. I'll git right on that, Big Mac..."
After feeding the ravenous customers at table five, AJ headed straight over to the two marines, greeting them with a grin and a cordial tip of her hat.
"Well, howdy folks. Mah name is Abigail Jacqueline- but don't go sprainin' yer tongue on that lil' number, y'all can call me AJ- and I'll be yer waitress this fine day. Can't say that it's not an honour to have two o' the men and women keepin' the sea a nice and safe place, here with us t'day..."

AJ ushered the two marines to a booth, keeping them out of ear-shot of the other customers, before handing them both two of the The Cantakerous Child's rather creased menus. "You two sure do look all tuckered out...hungry
too...Long day, huh?" She tucked her hands behind her back. "Well, yer in luck. The newest cook can make the most fillin' meals in these here parts- th' likes o' which, y'all wouldn't be-lieve! Can I make a suggestion on what migh' be a nice lil' treat to start with?"

Before Scott had any chance to react, his partner for now pushed him towards the bar he had been eyeing, and Scott tensed for a moment as if bein hit. He would have liked to hiss something along the lines of 'Don't touch me, woman!', but left it at a short glare as they were already inside the pub, restaurant or whatever this place classified as. One look around told him that, much like the rest of the island, it wouldn't be very surprising if Gasparde just so decided to drop in here for a drink or a short snack. In fact, it seemed likely, since Scott had yet to meet a pirate who would turn down something that smelled as good as the fragrance coming from the other end of the room.

Well, so this basically clissified as work, right? No harm in checking such a risky place out, right? Not that their supervisor would mind... He was most likely having the time of his life right now in the local bars. Scott could even imagine him checking the brothel, of course for security reasons only.
All that while they were expected to work... Then again, it gave SCott an excuse not to have to go party.

A young lady hurried towards them, blonde with a hat and, it seemed, a bit of a motor mouth, though maybe she was just trying to make casual conversation.
Scott let her usher him and his partner a bit away from the crowd, and almost felt something like thankfulness for this unforeseen happenstance when she gave them the somewhat crumpled menu. He didn't even pay any attention to it, or the circumstance that this sprightly steward didn't even think to ask for the reason of their coming, and just assumed correctly.
Instead, he pointed towards the open air kitchen, from which he could distinguish the smell of apples to come from.
"I want whatever thith guy'th cooking right now!"

It had been what he was here for, after all. Then again, a little consideration wouldn't be amiss, right? Maybe he was missing something. Would be just typical for him, so completely incompetent in anything he trie his hands at.
"Unleth you can offer thomething better."
This was more than he had anticipated to say today, and he didn't really want to speak anymore, he was growing tired of it already, and he could just feel both the waitress and his partner judging him. Too bad he had started a conversation. Stupid!
When he realised was staring at his absolutely clean nails intently, as if trying to find a speck of dirt he could clean off, he shoved them into his pockets. Just what he needed. Moer of a reason to come off as a whimp without self esteem.

As they were ushered to a booth in the corner, Mel gave a partial sigh of relief. Hopefully no one would catch wind of their brief absence. Even as the waitress began her spiel, a mildly paranoid Mel couldn't help but turn her attention to the tables behind the young woman to check for any their superiors that might happen to be there. It was a difficult feat to juggle nodding at the waitress every few moments and peering over the top of her crinkled menu the next. It wasn't until her partner began to speak did she focus entirely back onto their own table.

"So you can speak. Fancy that," Mel mumbled underhandedly with an eye roll for good measure, her nose buried in the menu as she did. She had no intention of bringing up his 's' issue at the moment; he was beating himself up enough for the two of them combined, by the looks of it. That, and her stomach had priority at the moment. There would be a time for mockery later. She then turned her attention to the waitress adapted a much more pleasant tone. "What was it you were going to suggest? I'm sure you'd know better than anyone else here."

Back in the kitchen, Mack was hard at work juggling the assorted orders he had gotten with the turnovers and fritters he was making. He was working hard to make sure that the other waiters and waitresses who weren't his sister were getting the orders they needed. The speed with which he prepared the trays for tables was fairly impressive, considering he normally didn't rush around that much. The hectic nature of this kitchen was really getting to him, and he worried that he wouldn't be spry enough to fight Gasparde today, if they even found him. Hopefully, though, his turnovers would give AJ the boost she needed to compensate for his slowed down reaction times... and maybe he'd even be given a rest.

Of course, in the meantime, he always made sure he was looking at an angle where he could see the Marine pair's table. He didn't like it when AJ was waiting on any male customers. Though he was quite certain of the fact that none of them would try to jump her, given that it was a crowded restaurant and everything, he still never liked it when they got too close to his sister. Every wayward glance, every awkward twitch Mack saw and noted, it was one more thing Mack watched for. Though this particular Marine didn't seem too keen on doing anything strange to AJ... most of what Mack saw him do was more self destructive than it was outwardly aimed at AJ. Huh, fancy that.

Besides all this, Mack's turnovers and fritters were cooking rather quickly, and it was surprising how close they seemed to being done. Though he knew it would take a little while longer for them to be finished... probably at least eight minutes, at the absolute least, it would be easy to pass them off as appetizers to the Marines. Even though the turnovers were really more of a dessert food... oh well, it was important that the Marines were at the top of their game. Gasparde wouldn't have been worth as much as he was without reason... and that was probably because he wasn't easy to take down. No point in over thinking this, though... all he could hope is that his sister convinced the two Marines to get the turnovers or fritters.

AJ flipped out a waitress' notepad from her back-pocket, silently noting with relief that neither of the marines objected to being seated so promptly and at a table so far away from the rest of the crowd.
The woman seemed a little edgy and AJ noticed her eyes flick briefly to the tables around them.
Was she expecting to see someone? Maybe it was Gasparde, she was expecting to see! That would mean that the two marines had the same idea- to stake out the restaurant- as the Smith siblings did.
Or maybe they were just hungry? Hey, marines had to eat too.
AJ briefly mulled over these fleeting thoughts as she waited for an answer.

And she was promptly snapped back to reality when she got one from the man. Though somewhere in the back of her mind, she was gleeful that she might be able to convince them to order Mack's special cuisine- a much larger portion of her mind was suddenly perplexed by/fascinated with the man's odd accent. He did something rather odd with his "s" sounds and though the desire to comment on it burned in her lips, AJ restrained herself from asking about it- after all, the guy looked embarassed by it enough already and plus, there were islands AJ had been to in which she and Mack's speech quirks were considered strange.

It struck her that the two marines probably hadn't been partners for very long, judging by the woman's statement- or at least the man hadn't been very vocal. Maybe it was AJ's imagination but for a moment there, she could sense a few waves of hostility between them.
She looked to the woman with a polite grin. "Better than anyone else here? Honey, you flatter me- and y'all got good judgement skills too." She chuckled. "Yer both in luck. That delicious aroma y'all are sniffin' happens to be Chef Mack's special appetizers..." AJ decided against introducing them as desserts: the faster and fresher the marines got them, the better. "Chef Mack's apple turnovers and apple fritters ain't listed on the menu but if they were ordered by a couple of respectable marines such as yerselves, I'd bet he'd only be too
happy to rustle some up for y'all." AJ placed a hand over her heart. "And trust me. I can guarantee that these here apple-tizers are the best y'all will find anywhere in South Blue..."
She grinned. "So will I put ya both down for an order of turnovers or fritters?"

Scott, still regretful of having talked, and still having to talk, was quiet for a moment.
"Turnoverth would be good..."
He finally said, concentrating on a small smudge on the tables surface. Looking anywhere but at soething that could look back, though his eyes darted to his partner from time to time. So she had a problem with him not talking too much, huh? Well, it wasn't like she had been trying to talk! And to think he had actually believed she didn't mind! If she had wanted to talk, then she could as well have started a conversation, now couldn't she?!
"Obviouthly, thince I am able to thpeak, I have to do tho every thecond of the day, becauthe it'th actually impothible that maybe there are people on thith exiguouth planet earth who don't enjoy continuous converthation. Being able to thpeak, I have to be a ludicrouthly loquatiouth being. I thee that now."
He told the smudge, while trying to eradicate it with his thumb. this day wasn't going so well, he was being tremendously talkactive. But he just couldn't let that small jab pass by without at least some sort of comment.

The waitress, he seemed to have forgotten, now that she had his order, she had lost a bit of her iportance in the conversation, though he would prefer her to leave right then, he just knew she was thinking about how pathetic he was being. she was thinking it right now! And the smudge had to suffer for it!
This day was horrible, it had started out horrible, and it would end horrible. This whole idea had been horrible. but he'd have to go through with it, he knew. Now the only thing left to hope for was that he would be able to do it without talking any more, though he doubted it. Most people found it necessary to snap back at him when he said something.

"Touché..." Mel muttered, one of her eyebrows arching in mild curiosity. He was a surprisingly chatty fellow once he got going. A better person might have laid the subject to rest then and there, but she wasn't about to let him have the last word on the matter quite yet; not without a last minute rebuttal of her own.

"I suppose I understand why someone would prefer to be permanently mute, a person such as yourself at least. At least people could feel pity for you then. Instead, you get to listen to yourself each and every time you screw up something you say. Too bad, hm? " She ended her statement with a soft smirk, although it didn't appear particularly sympathetic at all. It was a somewhat crooked smile, actually. Mel's intentions seemed questionable until her expression changed to a more sincere one, as she turned her attention towards the waitress.

"Fritters for me, please. Oh, and I could use some coffee if you happen to have any." Sighing, she brought up her hand to her opposite shoulder and scratch an uncomfortable itch that started to form. This whole situation was turning out to be quite a drag. Mel really hoped they had some good brew and food on hand. At least that would make something about the trip would be worthwhile.

Mac gave a thieving busboy a light rap on the head, sending the kid scrambling back to his work. He had been trying to sneak a taste of the turnovers, due to the fact that he had never seen Mac making that dish before. Of course, Mac would have none of that: these things were special. Anything else, maybe. He was still doling out an assorted variety of dishes to customers and waiters... it really wasn't unusual for this place to be so busy. However, with people leaving and entering all the time, Mac's attentions never left the door.

Which turned out to be a good thing, when four rather obnoxious men burst into the bar. With less care than Mac would've liked, they moved to a table, and without warning, threw the people sitting there off their chairs. Normally, Mac would've already been in front of one of them, and be busy with smashing their head into the floor, but he couldn't do anything this time: he was still undercover. So he was forced to watch as the men rudely removed the previous patrons from their locations, and took the plates that Mac had just sent out. Unfortunately, the people who brought out the food were not the same people who had received the order, so they had no idea that they new people weren't the correct patrons. Of course, this meant the intruders got the food and not the original patrons.

Now, Mac was fine with this... well, about as fine as you could be with some people bursting into a restaurant, removing some of the patrons, and stealing the food. He really wasn't that upset to be honest. That was, until he heard them talking amongst themselves. "Wow, man, this stuff is crap, isn't it?" "Damn right. I don't see why people like this stuff so much. It's really not that good." "Hey, hey, this stuff is good... to feed to horses, of course." They enjoyed a good laugh, as they continued to eat. Now, Mac could see they were lying. They liked the food. What he didn't like, however, was that they were insulting his cooking. Whether they meant it or not, it was a grave offense. If he hadn't needed to keep undercover...

AJ's eyebrows shot up into her hair at the man's rather uniquely articulated monologue.
His speech was the first of its kind that she'd ever heard- that much was certain. She almost pitied the poor guy for a moment, watching him attack a smudge on the table's surface.
The exchange between he and his partner also told her that whether or not they had known each other for a long time, they certainly were nowhere near ready to co-operate with each other (or at least do so in a friendly, compliant way).

AJ mentally sighed and face-palmed.
To a girl whose combat strategies placed such emphasis on teamwork with her brother, the notion of these two marines catching Gasparde suddenly seemed slightly impossible.
"Or maybe I'm wrong," she optimistically and silently reminded herself. "Strangers can surprise ya..."
Deciding not to get hung up on the matter and leave any "assistance" that the conflicting pair might need to Mack's cooking, AJ smiled brightly, noting the order. "Ok, one plate o' turnovers and one o' fritters...and don't worry, darlin'." She grinned to Mel. "Coffee won't be a problem. I'll be right back with yer orders in a moment...fer now, y'all jus' make yerselves comfy..."
And with that, she headed back in the direction of the kitchen.

The pseudo-waitress frowned at the sudden raucous cacophony of obnoxious insults that met her ears as she passed table eight.
AJ was certain that those four men hadn't been there before but gritting her teeth , she had to let her suspicions slide. She was undercover and as such, had no proof of them not being the original patrons and the last thing she wanted was needless trouble.
However, one thing that she could not let slide was the fact that they were insulting her older brother's cooking. Rage suddenly ignited beneath her skin, rippling like flames out to her fingertips and prompting her to clench a fist.
No one insulted her Big Mac around her, undercover or not.

Not as cool and collected as her brother, AJ couldn't resist briefly looking to their table as she passed, one hand on her hip and flicking her blonde hair over one shoulder and saying. "If y'all don't mind me sayin', boys, it'd seem like yer horses got better taste in food then their owners do..."

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it again.
What more was there to say? She had seen. She had known, somehow. How could she have known?
Somehow, Scott felt this was an intrusion. And he felt a bit humilitated, even. He had tried to appear as though he wasn't the person to care about anything, least of all his ...speech impediment, but this girl had seen what he was, what he felt, and she had thrown it right into his face with a calm voice and a small smirk. And the waitress had heard it as well... mark this as "the day I wish I had stayed in bed, number 344".

Scott rubbed his forhead, and looked at his knees, trying to ignore the fact she had obviously hit his weak spot, and taken the victory easily at the same time. Not the first time someone had called him out on his lisp, but normally people were less... cold when... approaching him about it. But she had also gotten a mindblowing vicotry when it came to poignant jabs.

And then there was a bit of shame, not only because she had been right in her assumptions, but also because she had been right to reveal them so coldly. He had it coming, even he had to admit. Maybe he should... apologise... He glanced at her, but couldn't bring up the courage to do so. Hell, he couldn't even think of any good alliterations right now, he wasn't ready to do something as absolutely new to him as apologising.

Scott was glad when the mean men entered the restaurant in a flashy fashion and stole the table away from a group of perfectly innocent customers. Not that such things delighted him, usually they made him quite angry, or, well, let's settle for somewhat irked, but in this particular, it happened to help him escape a situation that was getting more and more uncomfortable, the longer he didn't say anything.

But then there was another problem. His hand was already at his rifle, but.... he wasn't allowed to just shoot anyone, and he sure as hell wouldn't talk to them, after his comrade had the neatness to remind hi of the reason he'd rather have been born without vocal cords.
And if he couldn't talk to them, then either he had to let them be, which would seriously ruin his already bad day, or he had to depend on... her to take the lead, which was almost equally as bad. Still, he looked at her as if asking her to take the talking instead of him. it was a bit like admitting a second defeat...

Along with an improved mood, Mel had a relatively smug look on her face at this point. She rested against the padded booth seat back and threw one leg over the other, crossing them comfortably. While this was probably the reason that her father said she didn't have much luck making friends, any luck really, Mel much preferred this to some sappy dialogue: particularly when she came out on top, like she assumed she had this time.

She remained content until the group of disruptive men burst into the room. The sudden activity was enough to startle her and cause a bit of a jump, but Mel eventually settled down and watched the proceedings with a harsh glare. They had been in there for less than a few minutes, and she was already starting to be annoyed by their presence. Sure, the group was a pain, but should she do something about it? It would have been a quick and easy shot to take the lugs out, if it wasn't for all the civilians loitering around.

Looking expectantly towards the marine across from her her, she saw him reach for his gun. At least it looked like he wanted to do something about it, too. Mel held a brief amount of eye contact with him before she realized that he wasn't planning on saying something any time soon. She should've guessed that.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen..." Mel said calmly, not long after the waitress' own snide comment. "There's no reason to behave like a pack of wild animals. Looking and smelling like some is bad enough." Had what she said made it worse? Probably, but something told her that the men weren't going to behave no matter what she told them. Might as well get this done with so they could get back to peacefully eating their meal.

Mack was, quite admirably, ignoring the self-righteous idiots who had just come in. He had more important things to focus on. Like turnovers and fritters. Luckily, they were basically done. He put the finishing touches on the sweets, before moving them onto plates and preparing to hand them off to AJ. Come to think of it, where was she? He realized that he hadn't been watching any more once the fritters and turnovers had been finished. Mentally berating himself for letting up on his duty, he returned to quickly scanning the room for the sister he always looked after.

He found her, loyal to the last, remarking at the people who had just come in. Oh crap. It wasn't worth it, AJ... it wasn't good for her to get involved with people like this... their opinions, however stupid they were, were theirs, and it wasn't important enough for AJ to bother with. Though, he did appreciate her defense of his cooking... it was a skill he took a lot of pride in, and being told it was garbage was a giant blow to his pride. He did realize that they wouldn't take her comment in stride... He was proven right rather quickly.

"What did you say, woman?" One of the men indignantly exclaimed, getting to his feet and knocking his chair to the floor in the process. "Who do you think you are, talking to a crewmate of Frederic Gasparde like that?" One of them looked panicked, glancing over at the place where Mel and Scott were sitting. "Dude, shush..." "Hell no, man! If we let her get away with saying whatever she wants without some punishment, Gasparde'll lose all his respect, and where'll that leave us?" "Man's right, Gus, so shut up." A third man said, getting to his feet with less of a rush than the first man had. "What should we do to her, you two?" The fourth asked, sitting calmly on his chair.

The first man gave a wild grin, aware that most people had deigned to ignore what was going on in front of them. "You know... I haven't had fun in a while..." The previously named Gus looked wide eyed, and he rushed to change his crewmate's mind. "Man, can't we just... beat her or something?" "Shut up, Gus. You don't know what you're talking about." Of course, so far, only Gus had noticed the two Marines in the corner with guns at the ready. The others... were blissfully unaware of the law enforcement in the corner. "So, you two... come help me. Gus can get the leftover crap these people call food." He began walking towards AJ, a laughing smile on his face. "I'm gonna start with..."

His sentence was cut off by a calm, but quiet voice. One wouldn't have normally heard this voice over the hullabaloo, but the Cantankerous Child had grown oddly quiet and still. That voice said one word, one word that commanded the entire bar's attention. That word was "No." Mack had sprung into motion, leaping over the bar. "Not..." Mack was closer, running at full speed now, his right arm thrown back behind him in a ready made punch. "...my..." His fist flew out, catching the 'leader' of the group full in the face. His running momentum, compounded with the intense power and burning rage behind the punch, sent the man flying off his feet and smashing out through the double doors leading into the bar. "...SISTER!" Mack ran out of the building, finally jumping into the air and stomping down extremely hard on the unfortunate pirate's solarplex.

The man hadn't even had time to react.

His crew mates, however, had plenty of time to react. Each armed himself quickly, trying to push various patrons out of the way to get to Mack. They moved aside quickly, but for some reason the three pirates never made it out the door... with at least two of them, it made sense. Only Gus was actually trying to get to his fallen comrade: the other two had redirected themselves at Mel. For some reason, the fact that she had a sword, a gun, and a partner who had the same, never really registered in their minds. "And what was that bull about us smelling like animals?" Obviously, Twiddledum and Twiddledee were... lacking in the brains department.

((If this is too hard to work with, I can modify it.))

It was only in the brief moments that the words had left her mouth, that AJ realised that her commentry was probably uncalled for...though it was sure as heck, satisfying.
She couldn't let her brother go undefended. AJ had promised herself that she'd look out for him as a kid and the stubborn young woman had no prior intention of giving up on that promise now.

However, suddenly the men were reacting in a much...snappier way than she had initially expected. But her eyes widened at the mention of Gasparde's name.
"Hot damn...this darn waitressin' gig is jus' after payin' off..."
Her thick eyebrows shot upwards at their exchange, her eyes narrowing in disgust when the first man to speak made his horrific intentions clear.
AJ took a step back, opening her mouth to tell them exactly what she intended on doing if they even tried to lay a hand on her and putting one leg behind the other, balancing herself in a fighter's stance.

But they didn't come close to touching her.

"No."
Mack's voice was low and gruff but AJ's ears could have picked it up, even in the loudest, most raucous of locations and this time, the whole restaurant had fallen silent for him to speak.
"Not. My. Sister."

The first man didn't stand a chance.
AJ watched on in both pride and mirth as her older brother sent him flying out the double doors of the bar.
"That'll teach ya to watch yer darn mouth," she affirmed, putting her tray aside and looking to the other three. One had made a bolt for the door and she quickly decided that that one was a crabapple that could be easily picked off later.
She ran over to the doors to ascertain that her big brother was alright, but she had no reason to worry- Mack was more than too much for these rogues.

AJ frowned when the remaining two turned on Mel.
She rolled her eyes at the fact that they continued to accost her, despite her having weapons on her person- clearly indicating that she was a figure of authority (or at least not one to be reckoned with).

"Wow," she thought, pushing her Stetson hat back a little on her head as she strode over to Mel's side. "Not just lousy, dirty pigs. Stupid, lousy, dirty pigs..."
A certain piece of information the young woman had picked up earlier also pricked against her lips, begging for her to let it slip to this marine woman. Hopefully, Mack had overheard them too.
They were GASPARDE'S men...meaning that it could be possible to squeeze his location out of one of the slimy rats.

She wrinkled her nose. "Talkin' down to a lady again, huh? It's a lady's prerogative to have her own opinion, y'know...So what, is that just what Gasparde teaches y'all to do? Or are y'all jus' too afraid o' gettin' yer tails whipped by a girlie?"

She said Gasparde's name loudly and deliberately, hoping that Mel would catch on.

Scott simply watched most of the interaction, unsure when exactly to jump in since this didn't look out of hand. His partner, for once, proved that she was absolutely horrible when it came to calming situations, that she was, despite that, kind of witty, and that her sarcastic snapping was not something she treated him with exclusively. He doubted it had done any good in this situation, and tightened his grip on his rifle, but at first, they got ignored in favor of the waitress, who, much like his companion (who's name he still could not recall), couldn't keep her trenchant trap shut. (Not that he was one to criticise, seeing as he would have done the same, had he known those lowly men well enough to talk to them.)

The one he singled out as their leader answered the waitress. The first words that sparked his interest were 'crewmate of Frederic Gasprade', naturally, and he sighed inwardly. Just his luck, he cae, or rather, was dragged in here to eat and rest, and work caught up with him. Work he hadn't even wanted...
Outwardly, he took a step forward, his rifle now at the ready, though he was unsure how to alert them to his presence without calling out to them.

While he did so, the talk continued, and got to a more detailed, and absolutely illegal subject. Scott felt sick to the stomach, a feeling caused by a mix of fear, anger and disgust. How could anyone.... She was barely grown up, for gods sake, and seemed such a lively and energetic young lady, not to mention fairly cute, in her own way (Scott would later notice how he would not have thought that way of anyone if not for the situation that made her the victim, and relatable, not to mention in need of protection)... Then again, those qualities were most likely a good reason why...

No time for thinking that over now! Scott, fueled by his anger, took another step forward.
"Don't...."
His heroic action was cut short and left unregarded when one of the cooks, the one who would have made their food, if not for this incident, jumped into action, attacking one of the men. Agh! Civilians in their battle! Actually, Scott was glad for the help, and, though his moment in the limelight had been taken from him, relieved he didn't have to complete the sentence he had started.

After that, things went fairly fast, the young, corageous cook had taken the fight with the leader of the pirates outside, the cowardly one (or, as Scott concluded, the one person in the group with brains), had followed, and the other two had picked up what his partner had said after all, and decided to start a fight based on it. Scotts eyes darted to her for a moment, but he was brought back to another person as he heard her say something.
Wonderful, it was her again. Scott always appreciated girls who weren't afraid to speak up for themselves, mostly because that meant he was saved the trouble to do so, but right now, he just wished the witty waitress would stay out of this and stop putting herself in danger.

"Pleathe, miss, could you jutht..."
This day was bad enough as it was, he didn't need a dead civilian to top it off. Now that he thought about it... He looked towards the door. That was two against one, out there. But could he really leave this to his perturbing partner? Once again, he glanced at her, then at the door, then at the two pirates. She could most likely hold out for a minute. After all, he just had to check... Besides... It wasn't like she was his favourite person in the world, and seeing how she had treated him earlier, he fathomed he wasn't hers either.
"I'll be right back. Take care of the civilian!"
Was the only explanation he gave her as to what he was doing before he followed the young cook out of the doors, making sure to keep out of the undeniably unintelligent fellows way and reach as well as he could. Not that it had mattered that much, they were focused on his contentious comrade as it was.

Mel's smug appearance faded the very instant the men's foul intentions were realized. Eyes a smolder, she brought her hands together and cracked her knuckles to loosen up a bit. This lot was a bunch of criminals, no doubt about it. Dinner would have to wait. It was one thing to goof off while they had no idea where trouble was, but now there was some right in front of them. By the time her partner had already braced himself with his rifle, she had jumped onto her own feet and yanked her sabre from its sheath. She wasn't going to risk accidentally missing a shot with her rifle, not while there were innocent bystanders around.

It was dead quiet at this point, save for the mongrels going on about their vile desires, until one of the cooks came flying out of the kitchen and put an end to that. She could've sworn that she heard something from her partner moments before, but quickly discarded it from her thoughts. Still, the fact that he actually might have done something cool, or even heroic, amused her for that short time. That small moment of possible appreciation was quickly and entirely obliterated the moment he opened his mouth again.

"Take care of? What, do I look like a some sort of nanny?" Mel said with a scoff, waving her fist as she did. She was actually quite glad when two of the lackeys decided to pay her a visit and cure her potential boredom. By the sounds of it, the lugs weren't exactly at the top of their class. It took a hand to the mouth to contain in a cackle of laughter when the waitress made her snide comment. The young lady was respectably sharp-tongued.

It wasn't until the young lady specifically noted it in her statements that Mel had realized what was going on exactly. Hang on a second; these were Gasparde's men? A spark of recognition flashed in her eyes as the gears inside her head lined up flawlessly. This whole restaurant pit-stop seemed to be turning out pretty fruitful after all. Take in one of these guys, and they were bound to know where Gasparde himself was lurking.

"Aww... Gasparde's own henchmen are too scared to take on the big, scary man outside?" Mel drawled rather demeaningly, as if she was speaking to two children that were afraid of imaginary monsters hiding under the bed. "You're gonna wish you stayed home with your mothers today after I'm done with the likes of you."

She took a step in front of the waitress and waited for the men to act, creating a barrier for them to get through before they'd reach the girl. If the fiery lass were to decide to intervene herself, however, Mel wasn't exactly keen on stopping her: she for one wouldn't let such vulgar comments go unpunished if they were directed her way, and would understand if the girl wanted to get her own piece of the action.

Gus was getting the hell out of here. It was bad enough his crewmates were inept, but when he saw exactly how hard that cook had hit, he realized he was really out of his league. At least, if he never had a chance to get his bow strung. He grabbed his quiver as he dashed out the double doors, hiding in the shadows to get a chance to string the bloody thing. As he frantically tried to string the bow, he began laughing to himself. Look at him, Gus McIntyre, freaking out because of a cook with a mean right hook. Dammit, he had set several villages on fire for God's sake, why on earth was this enough to send him into a mad panic. Gritting his teeth and finally putting the last finishing touches on finishing up his bow, he threw the quiver onto a loop on his belt, and stepped back out of the shadows.

"Get yar arse off my subordinate, laddie!" Gus exclaimed, drawing a arrow out of his quiver and nocking it into the string. He tilted the bow slightly to the side: it always improved his aim somehow.

Mack, unfortunately, was not really willing to listen to Gus: the man had threatened his sister with the most intolerable crime conceivable, and it was important that he paid for it. Mac brought another condemning stomp down on the pirate's chest, and only the rasping, desperate gasps for air told Mack that the guy was still alive. It took an arrow grazing his neck and another yell from Gus to finally get his foot off the pirate's chest. "Gasparde. Where is he?" Mack asked, ready to get in a fight with the first mate. "Go ta hell, laddie." Gus drew another arrow out of his quiver and quickly nocked it on the bowstring, drawing the string taught before attempting to take aim again.

Unfortunately, Mack was a bit too quick for him. Mack had already dropped lower to restrict Gus's firing range, before driving forward to try to bury his shoulder into Gus' stomach. Much to Mack's surprise, Gus had removed his arrow from the bowstring, moving his hand to catch his bow as he flung himself to his left, sticking out his left arm. Gus managed to pull off a one-handed cartwheel of sorts, causing Mack to barrel full-steam and trip, falling and tumbling to the ground. As he landed, Gus dropped his arrow, catching it in his hand and nocking it back into the bowstring. Quickly realizing that Mack was too close for him to pull the string back and fire the bow properly, Gus just ran forward, slashing at Mack with the arrow as Mack tried to pick himself back up.

((Before you call out that it's impossible, I want to say that Gus' agility is freaking off the charts, so... yeah, that's why he can do this.))

Back inside the Cantankerous Child, the two remaining members of Gasparde's crew were not amused. The constant barrage of insults from the two women was infuriating them, and they weren't willing to put up with it for much longer. One of them seemed to have the rarely used lightbulb that was his brain light up, as he realized what, exactly, Mel was. "Dude... we gotta kill the one in front of us. She's a Marine." "Aaaaah, crap, you're right... let's get it over with. You deal with the waitress. I'm sure Gus is handling the ass outside." He pulled his sword back before thrusting it forward, trying to stab right through Mel. The other tried to move around him and throw his elbow into AJ's face.

AJ considered throwing a hard punch into the first ruffian's face for referring to her big brother as an "ass" but she decided quickly that it was best to leave his sorry behind to the marine woman standing beside her.
By the looks of it, Mel was more than capable of handling herself and certainly capable of handling that piece of low-life scum.

Instead, she focused on the man attempting to disarm her, dodging his elbow by leaning back and grabbing the curve of his arm instead. She shoved him away and then took advantage of his imbalance by delivering a swift kick to the back of his right knee.

By the looks of it, Scott had made it just at the right time. Well, there would have been nothing wrong with being there one second earlier, but one second later would definitely not have been preferable.
As of now, the courageous civilian was in grave danger! Scott knew he had to react quick, but even he was surprised at just how quick he did react.

He felt the slight sensation in his hand before the thought had even formed, as if his devilfruit had taken over thinking for him. Like pins and needles, and very cold ones.
He stretched his fingers out so that they wouldn't touch the hollow, and drew his hand back a bit. Only a bare moment later was his phantasmal pal next to him, and, with a thought from Scott, on his way to the dangerous menace attacking the innocent individual. Most likely, the attack would not come as a surprise to aforementioned menace, since the hollow, even after a whole year of training, still insisted on continuously making sounds whenever summoned, sounding a bit like "Horohorohoro", but Scott was used to that by now, and thus, was already aiming for the cirminal himself.

He should be thankful to have the ghostlike creature as a warning to the marine even being there.... Not that scott praised himself about being good at shooting, or even anywhere near talented, but, he just realised, he had ruined his own surprise attack... Well, maybe the hollow would hit... or maybe the man would be so distracted by a ghost suddenly coming for him that he wouldn't even notice Scott.
The young marine intetnly hoped so as he fired, aiming, or at least trying to do so, for the mans shoulder (after all, he wanted some information from him, so killing would be a bad thing to do right here).

A visible frown of distaste slid its way onto Mel's face as men began their attack. The moment the first man pulled his sword back for a stab, her eyes followed the blade as she prepared to react. By the time he started moving his sword forward, Mel was able to intercept it with her own sabre and deflected it harmlessly to her left side.

She considered to counter-attack, but quickly decided to take care of the one facing the waitress first. Civilians were priority after all, no mater how competent they may be. Mel abruptly swiveled around to face the second man, who was appeared to be quite preoccupied with the young lady already, and she thrust her blade forward in an attempt to run it straight through his midsection. "Coup de Pointe!" she muttered sharply as her arm extended.

Gus was really quite close to Mack... he was just about to stab Mack with his arrow when he heard... something. Something that seemed to be aimed at him. He turned towards the source of the sound, his arrow still in his hand. Of course, he quickly realized that turning his back on the man who both he was trying to kill, and who was trying to kill him, wasn't really the good of an idea. Though, since he was already in the middle of it, he figured he should just... keep going. He'd waste his time otherwise. Anywho, back to the situation at hand. The sound.

The sound was a man coming out of the Cantankerous Child... oh god. It was the Marine from earlier, and now he was coming to arrest Gus and save the cook from inside the bar. How wonderful. He brought his arrow up to nock it into his bow, but then was hit in the stomach by this wierd white... thingie. What the... He dropped his bow and his arrow, before dropping to his knees himself. And then he began to cry. Gus happened to have a minor variety of bipolar disorder... however, instead of happiness and depression, it was high and low self-esteem. And he had been hit in the middle of a low self-esteem cycle. Brilliant.

Now that Gus was unarmed and unable to defend himself, he received a gunshot wound to his shoulder. Gripping the wounded limb with a groan, he choked out, "Oh, for the sake of f*ck!" through his tears and the pain. Of course, that wasn't the end of his misery: Mack had gotten up and spun, smashing Gus in the back of the neck with his forearm. Gus flew forward, knocked unconscious from the force of the blow combined with the intense lack of will generated by the Negative Hollow. Mack then grabbed Gus' wrist, dragging the poor fellow over to Scott. He pointed into the bar, saying simply, "Arres' him. Ah'm gettin' mah sister." He dropped Gus and then went towards the bar, being stopped by a mass of people both watching the fight inside and trying to escape the bar.

The first man was taken aback by both Abigail's strength and her determination to stand up to him. He decided to change from just killing her to... worse things. That was until she kicked his leg out from under him, driving him to his knees with surprising ease. As he attempted to stop himself from laughing because his misfortune rhymed, he felt a stabbing pain in his stomach. Looking down, he saw a rapier jutting out of his stomach. How wonderful. As he dropped down further and slid off Mel's sword, the other man had been maintaining his spinning momentum, bringing his sword around to try to decapitate Mel with a broad sweeping stroke.