concoursec | Family Meeting for the gang / Semi-Closed

Entry tags:

Family Meeting for the gang / Semi-Closed

Characters: Marco, Grell Sutcliff, Thatch, Namur, Espio, and Tobias Hayes
Location: ~Around the Garden~
Rating: Hopefully PG-13. Let's keep violence/sex to a minimum okay?
Open/Closed/Finished: Semi-Closed (if another character wants to grab Marco for something it's available!)
Summary: Tattoo adjustments, family meeting, Marco stepping up as Captain

Sometime after the whole mission with Grell & Thatch, but before Namur also leaves on missions, Marco finally addresses the family cohesion "situation." Okay, so it's not exactly a situation anymore, but he's still concerned and there are things he needs to address with each and every member of the family, and with all of them together. And if there are going to be anymore miniature explosions, he'd rather they were now when he can handle them, then later at a very very bad time.

He hunts down everyone individually to make it clear that this meeting is not optional and if he has to pick them up and carry them there, he will. He also has needles and ink with him... so that might be a bit creepy. He gave himself plenty of time before all this though, since the meeting will be at dinnertime (which he has prepared) and throughout the whole day he goes around hunting everyone down.

Luckily, Namur is probably the easiest -- ironically? -- since Namur already was on the same page as Marco about it, and why Toby would normally be the easiest, Marco had a tendency to fall into a giddy Papabird mode that just wanted to play around with his favorite son whenever he was with the kid. As such, Toby is saved for last, since Marco can just ask him to come.

[ooc: there will be a big family thread everyone can go in any order on, because there are too many to go organized, and then separate threads for everyone.]

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Marco was flustered. Somehow this wasn't how he expected it to go, and part of him felt stupid for expecting any different. Obviously they were all going to want time to process it, and just because he needed to push forward and never look back didn't mean the others wanted that. What the hell kind of a leader was he? He didn't want this job, still. And that was part of the problem. He wanted to puff up his feathers in phoenix mode and kick all their asses. To argue it was an order, except it wasn't, and it never would be.

He watched Namur go, with his own shoulders slightly hunched like a wary vulture about to take into flight and hunt him down. He was going to get Namur, whether the shark liked it or not. A little bit of blood or not, he'd seen Namur go through worse in wars and he needed them all here. Which was selfish, but since when was Marco ever not selfish?

"Perhaps I was trying too hard to be an earthquake," Marco spoke quietly. He sounded deadpan, but part of him was hurt, a little stressed, and immensely worried. Rationally he knew he was in an idiotic panic mode over nothing, but he didn't know how to fix that. "It's not a stupid analogy at all. That's how my Pops was, and I don't know how to lead any other way." He had to find his own path, true. But when his father was the best and strongest leader in the world, how could he not try to emulate the man who did it best?

"I'm sorry," he apologized and set Espio down. He gave Thatch a grateful grin, already knowing some of what was transpiring in the other man's head, and truly relieved by it. Especially since he didn't have to voice anything extra just yet. Thatch knew, Thatch understood, and Marco needed that.

Blue eyes narrowed, Marco had his own resolve, and his own way of doing things, and if Namur didn't like it, he could fight him.

"And thank you. All of you," Toby for his words though they made him incredibly nervous. Whitebeard was only a legend now? Well, he was a legend even alive, but that made the ache worse a little, though Toby hadn't meant it that way. Grell for being first, Thatch for being his rock, and Espio for being Espio.

"I'll be right back," he stated quietly, but in two quick strides he was outside hunting down his shark brother.

---

"Namur," it was a quiet growl, but Marco grabbed either side of shark cheeks in his hands, just in front of the gills and gave the 8th division commander a fierce look. "I'm sorry I overloaded you. I was hoping you'd stay and fight me." Maybe because not all of Marco was as determined to stride into the future as much as he wanted, or maybe because he wanted to bust through the barriers head-on. Namur was doing what Marco did though, and instead of providing opposition, just left so it wouldn't be there. "Blood or not, stay and bite me next time. You got it? You acted like I didn't trust you to handle it, and in so doing, you didn't trust me to handle you. I don't want to be captain, but you still have to trust me to be your equal. You want to fight? You feel that rage? That desire to bite and destroy? Don't run from it. If this is to be my era now, I'm using that and directing it where I want. Got it?" He was fierce about this.

Did Namur really think Marco didn't understand? That Marco never had bloodlust problems? Sure he wasn't a shark, but he was a zoan. There was a reason he had to limit how much meat he ate. This era was to be an era of vengeance back home if Marco had any say, but he couldn't direct Namur if Namur swam off on his own.

"Bite me, but don't tuna out like that again or I'll kick your ass so badly you'll wish you'd bit me first. Understood, number 8?" He couldn't explain all of what was going on in his head. That part of him was such a jerk of a commander that he'd wanted his brother to deal with the blood rage so he could prove he could handle it, so he could show he could use it, so he could show that he would take care of them all no matter what. That was selfish, so selfish. But as a commander, no, as their acting-in captain, he had to be. Pops had been selfish a lot of times too. Even now in death, their father still was. "Don't ever think your bite is stronger than my shoulders. You are still my younger brother, and don't you forget it."

Damn, he'd almost made it to the ocean. Namur could hear it rumbling, just beyond one more wall. A leap, handspring, and a flip away.

"I ain't fergettin' it, damn it!" Marco wanted his rage? He could have it now. In the form of teeth bared to the gums and a full bodied headbutt to the gut. "Wasn't bein' no damn guppy. Was savin' yer dumbass son's life, cuz I swear, that kid opened his stupid mouth one more time I was gonna rip him apart! Maybe yer okay gettin' bit, but he ain't. Even if he tastes like somethin' gone screwy!"

If sharks were prone to growling, Namur would be doing so now. But instead of some audio cue to his changing state, he let off a burst of chemicals, shunting them from his body as he sprang after Marco to let the fight happen. He landed hands- first just short of Marco and spun, aiming to kick him into the wall, then pushed himself into a backflip to regain his feet.

"Said I'd be back an' I meant it. Jus' ain't goin' t' be wantin' t' rip someone t' pieces with Thatch's blood in the air. That's a line I ain't crossin'!"

And just like that, Marco grinned and cheered up. "Okay," he grinned cheerfully, and didn't bother fighting back the fishman brother at all. Just leaned against the wall like he meant to be there all along and quietly messed with Namur's hair. He didn't feel the need to defend Toby's words. They spoke for themselves, frustrating and all. And Namur already knew the intentions behind them, so Marco hardly needed to explain that.

"You're cute when you're angry," he beamed merrily and messed with the hair even more.

Worst captain brother ever.

It was all Thatch could do not to roll his eyes at Grell. Double standards his ass. It wasn't the same. Namur and Espio weren't the same. And anyway there went Marco fluttering after him which--was not what a captain should do. He wasn't a first mate anymore he couldn't just drag people back to where he wanted them to be. He should trust them to come back. If he wanted to do it this way--he should do it this way, but leaving like that undermined his own strength.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his fingers to his lips. But it had happened so Thatch had to figure out a way to fix it. Time first to let it sink in but maybe...

Ah hell-- wait a second. Thatch stood, taking off his shirt completely and throwing it on the chair.

"Be right back," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Unless you want to come for the show."

Because there would be one if what was happening what he thought was happening. He walked out, slower than he wanted so they could keep up if they felt so inclined,and out to where Marco was merrily petting the frustrated Namur. Geeze--

"Fight him, you idiot!" he snapped, bodily hauling Namur back by the back of the shirt and ramming his fist up into the Fishman's gut.

He felt it coming a scant moment before it happened, but Thatch was sneaky and fast and Namur didn't have time to react before he had the wind knocked out of him. He doubled over, but didn't go down. The force of the blow threw him back against the wall, which hurt like hell because his dorsal fin bent to the side.

"Ow, shit," Namur panted once he got his breath back. He ducked his head and slammed into Thatch's ribs, using a kick against the wall to propel him forward.

Thatch grunted as the full weight of Namur hit him, slamming against the ground and ripping up a dark earthen rocky furrow with his back as they skidded along the ground. He was going to have to wash his hair after this.

"Gonna make you pay for that, fish fry."

He grabbed Namur's pointy little ears to force his head up and kneed him in the gut, then wrenched them over so he was half kneeling on Namur's stomach and headbutted him hard enough to set his own ears ringing.

Namur grunted from the blows, but his head was made for taking impact. After getting headbutted, he kicked his legs up to get momentum, grabbed Thatch behind the shoulders, and flung the man over his head. Namur rolled to his feet and turned, teeth clamped shut. He's started paying more attention to haki now, feeling out Thatch and Marco's intentions, feeling their voices alive and vibrant there next to him. Other voices, more faint, move around the Garden, but they didn't matter as much. They weren't a part of this- whatever it was that Thatch was doing. Namur didn't care what Thatch was plotting, though. It looked like he was bringing the fight, and Namur wasn't inclined to disappoint.

Edited (I accidentally a word. Is that bad?) 2013-08-11 22:20 (UTC)

He knew what was coming a second before it came, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He prepared for it instead, twisting to hit the ground with his shoulder and rolling to his feet. He could sense the shift in Namur's stance. A more serious fight then. Thatch pulled his hair back, keeping his gaze locked on Namur's to catch any sudden movement and then put his fists up, watching, waiting for an opening.

"You want to be a brat and walk out on my captain?" He glanced at Marco briefly before looking back at Namur. "Don't wanna taste my blood, matey?" He bit the inside of his cheek hard and spat out a watery mess of blood and saliva. "Deal with it. Or did you lose your backbone, tuna roll?"

Marco might have had enough hormonal sensitivity to recognize the chemical growl for what it was the first time. Namur did it again, a primal warning ignored by humans on a cognitive level, and charged. He moved to punch, anticipated a block, and instead grabbed Thatch's raised fist and pulled, slamming his own, other fist into Thatch's side.

"Not the first time I've been proven wrong." She did wonder how Marco would handle his brother. Sharks were never the easiest creatures to understand, nor deal with.

Grell raised an eyebrow when Thatch took off his shirt, doing a terrible job at not looking well. She could appreciate a well defined body, couldn't she? "No helmet, darling?" He seemed dressed for a brawl, and she knew how much Thatch cherished his locks. Indeed, she follows, wanting to see how Whitebeards handle their own.

She really shouldn't have been surprised at what occured. Marco acting very cool about it all. Namur reacting as volitile as one would expect from a shark. And Thatch joining in, perhaps not to be left out. No one could argue that this wasn't a good way to relieve some stress, but maybe she could turn up the heat on them.

"Is this by invitation only, boys?" Grell readied a Fire spell and hurled it at their feet, grinning. She could care less if they liked it or not. Invitations were boring, anyway.

Thatch saw Namur coming, getting out of the way just enough so the blow to the ribs was a glancing one, going to leave him with a bruise and nothing more. He grabbed Namur's wrist with his free hand, going to wrap it around Fishman's back when Grell spoke up and the bolt of fire came right the hell out of nowhere.

"Shit!" He wrenched Namur away from it, sticking a leg out to trip him and send him sprawling to the dirt and then pressed a knee to his back, grabbing his dorsal to keep him still.

"Damnit, woman! Butt out! Are you trying to kill us?!"

If Namur were in a more cerebral state of mind, he'd be glad his fin is cartilaginous rather than lined with bone, because even though it hurt it could still be wrenched free when some jackass was trying to use it against him. The knee in his back was a different problem, but Thatch wasn't nearly heavy enough to keep him pinned for long. Namur got his arms underneath, lifted himself and Thatch off the ground and twisted away, gritting his teeth. Once free, he charged toward Grell.

"Damn bastard! Keep that fire shit t' yerself!"

"It's only fair to keep you all warm, since you're all so FIRED UP!" Grell grinned, thinking her pun was so clever. At seeing Namur charge at her, her wide, sharp grin never faltered. It may have gotten wider.

"How'd you know~?" She could blame the mother she never wanted for that fact. Once Namur got close enough, Grell dodged to the side quickly, just far enough to block whatever Namur intended to do. She dug her heels into the ground, balled her hands into a fist and aimed a punch to his side, intending to prove that she wasn't one to be intimidated. Grell wasn't really holding back her strength, but hopefully, if it landed, it wouldn't rupture any organs...

An eardrum piercing whistle cut through the air like a flood of lightning and thunder all at once as blue flames dashed between the three of them.

"Enough!" Marco let loose enough haki to pull everyone apart, though he hardly seemed angry about any of it so much as annoyed. If his deadpan, bored expression could even qualify as annoyed. His yell wasn't even loud compared to the initial phoenix roar of stop.

He lightly kneed Thatch in the chin, pressed Grell back against the wall with a taloned foot, and Namur was ironically the only one left free and untouched.

"You," Marco gave a small glare to Thatch, "Are an idiot, yoi. I already did fight him, you just saw the aftermath." WELL okay, so he didn't fight him for very long. Just enough to get his point across, but Marco was leaving Namur to fight him and that was the entire point.

"But I appreciate your dumbass first mate attempt at protecting my honor."

He turned to Grell, "You, Kitten, are loved already. You don't have to keep acting like you have something to prove and take advantage of the situations to make sure you have a place here." Okay, truthfully... Marco wasn't sure of that. Had he been in Grell's place, joining the fray would have been exactly the right decision, but he was mildly annoyed given the added red chaos and bloodlust making it harder to get everyone under control. Although it was fun. And if she wasn't the kind to insert herself by joining the fray, he wouldn't have married her. Still, those were the words he needed to say as captain, and say them he did.

Marco did not look back to check on Namur, but that was how much he trusted the shark fishman to handle himself himself, or to bite Marco instead of the others. "And Namur already knows the right decision here, he doesn't need anyone else reminding him again, when I've already handled it." Blue eyes softened. He didn't look back to check on Namur, even now, but he trusted him that much. "Right, 8?"

The phoenix snorted quietly and let down his leg to free Grell. This time, he turned to face Namur.

"If I am to be your captain, you know what you must do." Marco didn't move much. Neither to protect or stop Thatch and Grell again, nor to hold Namur down or make any visible gesture. He didn't give any outward indication of the so-called right choice of what Namur would do. Whatever Namur chose though would decide it.

If the haki wasn't bad enough, the knee to the chin sent him falling right on his ass, breaking the fall with his elbows on the cool earth. Damnit. Idiot phoenix. Yelling at him like that. Like a Captain should. It was all he could do not to rest against his leg and thank him for taking it out of his hands.

Instead he sat up, pulling a knee up to his chest and resting his chin on it, breathing a little ragged. His cheek hurt and his ribs did, too, a bit, but Marco had it all taken care of--so he would just sit here and wait to see what had transpired. Though he did manage a faint:

"Aye." To say that he'd heard and agreed to all of it.

The wave of...what even was it... sent her flying back into a wall. She wasn't aware he could do that, but it got the job done. The feeling of being pressed down enough to make her ears pop...she didn't like it much.

Even though Marco looked pretty hot when angry, she really disliked being pinned down by some bird claw! Grell struggled as best she could but...damnit! It wouldn't budge! When he addressed her, talking about some nonsense about acceptance or something, Grell stopped and rose an eyebrow to him.

"Don't be daft! I know my place, and none shall usurp it!" She told Thatch something similar not that long ago, so it was annoying having to repeat herself. Once he let go of her, she straightened out her clothing. Afraid of losing her spot within this family? Sure, it crossed her mind, but not by much. "And stop wiping your dirty feet on me!" She shook her fist at him.

Edited 2013-08-12 02:06 (UTC)

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