Captain's Log

[Hello Luceti, is the nice little ice storm distracting you from post-Valentine's woes? Don't worry, here's a grumpy marine asking questions to painfully reminds you all.]

Seeing as we're all stuck inside -- [Once again, an usually feminine voice from Smoker's journal account.] -- I've got a question for everyone affected by the event.

Are there normally lines you won't cross in relationships that the Malnosso seem to cross for you? Or do they seem to take those into consideration instead? Since they seem to know us pretty well, it begs the question whether they're using our weaknesses, or if it's completely random.

And if anyone needs help out there in the storm, let me know. This weather is good practice.

[ooc: and feel free to threadjump like the dickens. It might be the only time Smoker keeps quieter than not, seeing as he's a girl now.]

For those who knew her, Grell Sutcliffe has been sent home. She will be missed. [At least by him. For those who were her victims... well.]

For New Feathers, I'm Captain Smoker. [Commodore. Whatever. He doesn't acknowledge that. Especially in Luceti.] And I train jitte outside the barracks. For those already learning, lessons are not disrupted. For group sessions, anyone can drop in and join, those are run through most of the afternoons. I also offer one on one lessons and kickboxing.

We're also still looking to assemble anyone with police enforcement experience, so don't be afraid to speak up.

On a more leisurely note, Ginia, what do you say to having a poker game once a week at the Cloud Nine? [Because he really needs another addiction on top of the others.]

Hello new feathers and old.

First off, I'm Captain Smoker. [Those who know otherwise can point out that he's a commodore, and that it doesn't even matter in this place.] I teach kickboxing, basic self defense, and jitte for anyone who would need it. I can also help spar against swordsmen if they're looking to expand their skills. Every so often a draft goes out taking people at random; kids and civilians alike, so even a little bit of practice can help. There are other self defense classes being taught so I'm sure we could work something out between teachers and create a formal schedule if need be.

Secondly, there's a lot of discussion about putting together a more permanent form of police or watch group to deal as first responders to threats to the village. Since that doesn't seem like something that will get worked out too easily, I'd like to suggest making a safe haven of the barracks. Anyone who can't or doesn't want to fight could safely put there in emergencies and defenders could keep watch.

On a different note; Jack Sparrow I'm confiscating your ship. Your previous acts of piracy here in Luceti have shown you're not to be trusted with one. Now let that be a lesson to other would-be pirates here.

[ooc: yeah, no, even Smoker doesn't expect that to work so feel free to tell him to fuck off. He just promised to give it a try, and he misses beating up pirates =\ Anyways, please do yell at him for overstepping bounds, though he really won't give a fuck.]

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.]

[Apparently Luffy is running around like a madman, smoking two cigars and looking a little huskier than his usual self. Also, he doesn't seem to have his rubber devil fruit, instead every so often, there's a jump with smoke or a dodge to the side, but no stretching whatsoever.]

God damn it! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME! [Oh yeah, and he's being chased by a pair of seastone handcuffs and a seastone-tipped jitte. Payback is a bitch, even when it's justice. Unfortunately even the near endurance master is going to run out of energy sometime, and after slowing down just a little, he trips, gets pounced by the jitte in his back and the handcuffs instantly latch around his wrists. After some wriggling, it's clear his journal is open so he just wriggles over to it.]

Can someone get me out of these fucking things? I have the key, I'm just not that flexible, ironically. [And that would be Smoker's voice, but apparently "Luffy's" head smacking into the ground.] Snow is a lot colder when you're completely human by the way. And now my smokes are running out. Joy.

[For the entire time, Smoker has been trying to control his outbursts. Because manly marines don't sing. Or at least Smoker doesn't. Not that he's exactly had much say in this. At least he'd escaped with no one seeing the skipping. Until now. Because there's just something about that fountain that makes everyone, even those who hate water thanks to devil fruit -- want to sing and dance. Internally Smoker would like to do anything to stop this unfortunate event. But that's not happening. And so it all climaxes to a full out chorus of Tarantaras, complete with "marching" around in a circle. Any psuedo-policeman types are encouraged to join in, because the more you say Tarantara, the more addicting it gets. Besides, the last time Smoker did a cartwheel was... never. And he would like to just crawl into a hole and die. And just when he's quite certain he's lost all respect forever, he growls into the journal.]

Shouldn't this god damn thing be over with by now?!

Tarantara.

Not that I mind having the kids around.

Tarantara Tarantara.

Ugh... maybe if I just never talk again...

[First person to say he sings like a (drunk) angel wins fifty points.]

Bend and stretch.

[Fog doesn't scare Smoker. What does get to him is trying to move in this teddy bear costume when he feels like he's going to fall over from being out of balance. He's just glad Hina can't see him and mock the pudgy tummy. Or that he's not too recognizable until he speaks.]

Damn this thing is hard to move in. [Still, there's Smoker, trying to exercise, because something might come up and he'll need to move fast. Who knows.]

At least there's free weights everywhere. [He picks up one of the cartoonish Tim Burton-style jack-o-lanterns, but then it flares, trying to breathe fire at him and there's a ghoulish laugh. Still, nonplussed Smoker is thoroughly unfazed.] Oh, knock it off.

[As he's already been running around again, Smoker's sounding a little run-down, but on top of things.]

Given all the posts looking for specific people; everyone who's safe and has friends they know are missing, we might as well start up a wanted post. If you've lost someone and can't find them and worry they might still be trapped, report in with where you think they might be and attempts to locate will be done immediately.

Was anyone besides John in the tunnels? [Yeah, it's clear he gives more a damn about certain lost kids than the malnosso. He's a bastard like that.]

And I suggest someone start collecting rebuilding supplies before some other entrepreneuring idiot makes the attempt.

In the meanwhile, has anyone set aside a refugee area for the people now homeless? If nothing else, anyone who appears to be lost can check in there.

Everyone's sure there's no new people showing up? Because I could swear I keep hearing her trip over things. And yeah, I know... everyone else is hearing things too. But her coffee. No one could duplicate that. So where did it come from?

Hn.

Ash, I got a bunch of different things to make various types of omelette. No luck on ketchup yet, but I'll keep looking.

And Kohaku, I have a plant I need you to look at.

Oh and Raph, thanks again for the jitte. It's even sturdier than I expected.