justicereigns | [Voice / Action]

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[Voice / Action]

Age is just a number. 34. 35. Close enough, right?

[There's a drunk slur to his words followed by the clink of rocks being stacked and summarily falling over.]

Damn it! These rocks are defective. [~~As opposed to functional rocks?~~] Tashigi!

[....] Oh right. She's not here. Tch. Maybe a whole rum cake wasn't such a great idea after all.

[This has been a public service announcement. Don't drink and post folks. Anyone looking to find our drunk White Hunter might find him stomping around the dark, looking for non-defective... rocks. He's also carrying around a bottle of Rhum brand rum. And he's a prime target for messing with. Happy Birthday Smoker.]

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GOOD! [He's going to start his approach with a quick dash forward, and wildly swing his sword around because hey, why not?]

Tch. No control. [Smacks the arm with the sword and goes to pin Ky down, though being a robot, this is a lot less effective, how do you hit vital organs with a police club on a robot after all?]

[Well then. Hello, ground. Robo-Ky thinks they should stop meeting like this, so often.

Since Robo-Ky doesn't really have vital organs, hitting him anywhere with the jitte would probably be as effective as anywhere else. Denting him more will certainly hurt his... mechanical pride.

However, he's starting to make whirring noises. As if he had something up his sleeve!] BZZZT.

Had enough metal brat? [Poke poke poke.]

[This will sufficiently answer that question, hopefully. In which case, his lower half of his body is going to be transforming into something like a horse. That may or may not kick Smoker right off of on top of him.

That's what he's aiming for, at least.] HAHAHAH!

[That definitely works because wtf, apparently he's dealing with Franky.]

Unf... [Kicked in the gut, oh pain.] The hell?!

[Then eyes narrow, because the dude is part robo!horse.]

I heard about this attack. Centaur mode. [Mistaken identity, congrats, he now thinks you're a pirate.]

Cyborg Franky! Your reign of pervert attacks ends here! [Smacks with the jitte again.]

[This is more than enough space to sort of squeeze out and get to his feet. But then this bastard had to go and use fighting words.]

I AM NOT A CYBORG--

[--and a direct hit. Robo-Ky needs to stop letting some drunk guy manipulate him into lowering his guard. This guy must be a tactical genius.]

Yeah? So what are you? [An undercut this time for a change.]

[This connects, hitting him and knocking him backwards once again, before even getting a chance to answer Smoker. He really wasn't all that prepared for this fight.]

[Falls back defensively, with the jitte held out in front of him to ward off swords or whatever else.]

... THAT'S IT! [After he regains what little balance he has, he's going to be giving Smoker a "look". One that says that he's going to try and end this, because he doesn't like getting beat up. Or dented, either.

What else does that look say?

Come at me, bro.]

[All right he will. And Smoker lunges in for another pounce, aiming the jitte hard to the neck.]

[Robo-Ky expected this and is glad to see it! He holds his arm out, and then it flips open from the elbow to reveal a gun. Not just any gun, but a shotgun! He isn't shooting, since he's hoping that it just makes Smoker think twice about messing with him.

Ammo is hard to find. Even though he didn't look all that hard and grabbed a few shells and was done with it. ~~He had a ton of things to find when he first arrived, okay.~~]

[Of course, that doesn't actually make Smoker pause though, because getting shot doesn't scare him anymore than it'd scare Luffy.]

That the best you got?

[Smack.]

[That hit is just causing him to fire his round up into the air. Maybe hit a bird, maybe not. Who cares -- he wasted a valuable shot. ;_;]

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?

You started it.

[Maybe. Drunk Smoker forgets. And doesn't care. Also, he's having fun with this. It's been ages since he really beat anyone up successfully.]

[He'll never get his bullet back! Never!]

I'M THROUGH WASTING MY TIME WITH YOU! I'M LEAVING! [But this battle was clearly a stalemate.]

Keep your nose clean punk, no one gets to fuck up my town. [Except the Malnosso, and a a rather long list of those who do anyway.]

I HAVE NO NOSE! [He took that literally, is now turning to leave. He had the last laugh today, Smoker!]

... Idiot.

[Lights up a pair of twin cigars and goes to look for rocks.]

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