First Task:

It was bright and early when the large, fancily painted passenger's vessel languidly pulled into the docks in Loguetown. A ship with several cabins aboard designed for more comfortable long distance travel, it even had a single restaurant at it's center. For Flint, it was a new experience. It was more luxurious than even his life back on Karate island. The fact that something so nice could sail the blues so smoothly made the young man smile as he tucked the remainder of his large sum of beli away into his scarf. The prize money he'd won a week ago was burning a hole in his pocket. He wasn't used to having money, he had never had it before back on the island. The concept was so foreign to him, he couldn't bring himself to see how the people on the ship treated each other based on how much of it each of them had.

Wildly swinging open the door to his cabin, he trotted out of the small, well decorated room and into the hallway that connected through to the waist of the ship. His cabin was at the front of it's row on the middlemost of the large ship's three stories. Watching the people around him amble and meander about their way towards the exit of the ship, Flint became impatient. The town was so big, he'd never seen anything like it. The white tiles seemed to light up under the morning sun, and he saw many people of different origins down below, exiting and boarding other ships, going to various shops and speaking in groups on the street. It was the hustle and bustle of a city, something he'd never seen before.

"Alright, outta the way! Geez, why are rich people so slow?" Flint erupted, stepping between a young woman in a nice sundress, and her little girl, clinging tightly to her dolly. "Sorry, I got places to be." He shot the girl a grin, though her height probably prevented her from seeing anything past his scarf. Directing his attention to the dock below, he saw the ship slowly start allowing passengers to exit. He knew he had the time to wait in line, he just didn't want to. He didn't even know where he was, the urge to explore was consuming him.

"Land ho, look out below!" He shouted at the steadily growing group of people on the dock below, exiting the ship. The other passengers surrounding him gawked and whispered between themselves as he caused a scene, many making comments about his strange appearance and loud outburst. Everything from "He looks poor", to "Why is that kid wearing a scarf in this weather?", and even "Young people are so rude these days". Bending his knees for a moment, he cracked the wood at his feet as he sprung forward off of the ship's deck towards the dock, laughing wildly the entire way. Something about flying through the air like this left him enthused. Though he hadn't had the abilities of the spring fruit for very long, he had definitely logged the hours into playing with it and learning, if only for the sake of personal enjoyment.

The crowd below began stampeding off, trying their best to avoid the miraculous flying idiot. Still laughing like a madman as his crash landing approached, Flint didn't stick a perfect ten. Legs still all springified, he hit the white, tiled ground just past the docking area feet first. Usually things that come up, must come down. In a spring human's case, coming down can mean they end up going up again accidentally. The ground cracked and flaked at his feet as the pressure from his landing built up, and he managed to briefly let out a quick "Hmm..." before being launched through the air, over the crowded street, and onto the corner of the adjacent street. He hadn't taken a leap from somewhere that high before, he forgot to consider the consequences of mistiming his transformations, or the impact that would follow.

  Skidding on his rear as he hit the ground, he clamored in pain. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, that hurt! Does anyone know where a guy could get a drink and some food around here?!" He flopped onto his back from his rear, arms crossed over his chest, resting his head on the ground. His ass really did hurt, and he didn't wanna have to get up and walk around quite yet. The people on the streets surrounding him gave him funny looks as they passed by, not a single soul stopping to ask him if he was alright or even bother to answer his completely legitimate question.

Peering back, he noticed a small girl standing above him. Giving her a quick look-over, he immediately noticed her dirty, tattered attire, the bandages that covered her legs, and her lack of shoes. Her orange hair was made even more noticeable by the bright morning sky, and that soon became the fixture of his focus. He had always been poked and prodded at for his lightly colored hair, where on his island most people had darker brown or black hair. It was an unusual sight.

"Sup?" He addressed the obviously young girl directly by tilting his head back further to reveal his full face, although with his head upside down he likely looked silly. The clip that held the million beli he'd earned poked out from beneath his crimson, polka dotted scarf, revealing a stack of bills marked as ten thousand per. It hadn't even occurred to him by this time that the girl could be homeless or poor, despite her attire alluding to it from the get go. On his island, there generally weren't many poor or homeless people since farmers tended to take care of each other, and Martial artists were provided for by the villagers for the protection they granted simply by being around. As a result, there wasn't much crime, or really any thieves to worry about. Flint, none the wiser, had just revealed his phat stacks to an aspiring young thief.

Matching the girl's smile, Flint rolled over from his back onto his stomach, his beli settling deeper into the crevice of his scarf as he did so, and pressed his palms against the ground as if he were about to do a push-up. "Waffles, huh? That's a strange name, but I like waffles." His forearms suddenly morphed into springs that connected into his wrists and hands, providing the required power to launch his body upwards. It was a light spring, just enough to get him to his feet, standing no more than three steps in front of the girl. The height difference between the pair was vast, and he couldn't help but question her age because of it.

He followed the girl's finger as she pointed down the street, where many shops lined each side of the brick road. They seemed endless in both amount and variety, as if one could truly find anything they desired. Many merchants were outside, calling to passersby, promoting their various businesses. "Down there? Well, what are we waiting for?! Let's... GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" He took off running, happily skipping lightly using his springs along the way. As he passed by various shops, he made sure to read the signs above each of them.

Belle's General Clothing Store "Nope." The Doc's Medicine Shack "Nada." Vicky's Lingerie Boutique "Ooohh... Nerp." He shook his head to erase the thought from his mind, the fluffy tufts of his hair billowing as he did so. Turning back to face the girl he'd hoped was still trailing him, he addressed her with another smile, though he wasn't certain she could even tell. "Wait, ain't you s'posed to be leading me? First, we'll need to get some food! I'm sure you're hungry, and I could eat a whole buffalo. Then, I needa take a look at some weapons, I'd love to get some nunchaku. Some of the guys back on my island were so badass with them! Oh oh oh, or maybe some gloves?! I CAN'T DECIDE."

He sprung around in place happily, looking for the girl to lead him. He'd never purchased anything before, he was so excited to see what it was like actually owning something besides the clothes on his back. As he impatiently awaited the girl's response, a shady looking shopkeep on the other side of the street called out to him. "You there, young man. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, pardon my interruption. I take it that you're looking for some weaponry? An idio-.. erm... Energetic man like yourself could probably use some protection. Here at my store, Uso-Tsuki's Armament Shop, we have the finest weapons of every variety. Step right over here, you can even bring your little homeless friend, I don't mind!"

If Flint had any sense when it came to the outside world, he would easily be able to tell that this man was not your everyday honest businessman. Taking the boy and his new young companion for idiots, he simply hoped to make a quick sale. "Homeless... ?" Flint gazed at Waffles for a moment, clearly puzzled, before looking back to the strangely dressed man. Despite being male, he wore a long, black, dress-like robe, adorned with gold necklaces, rings, and other similar jewelry. It was clear this man had made a fortune in Loguetown, probably selling average quality weapons for ludicrous prices to gullible and unintelligent pirates. "Whaddayasay? Leggo. After this, I'll buy you some food. Just lead the way, Waffles. Hey, by the way, you don't have a sibling named Syrup by chance, do ya?" He chuckled aloud as he extended his arm ahead of him, beckoning the girl to cross the street and enter the shop first. He would follow suit after her.

"Yes, yes, right this way! You people do have money, right?"

Waffles mind echoed a single word, ”Shit…” as the Beli cache within the man’s scarf sank a little more snugly in its confines. As the guy’s arm transformed into a coil of skin, her first thought was to wince, yet since it seemed the man felt no pain, that action almost instantly conceded in favor of a wider more toothy grin at the sight of what she thought was the power of the devil. She didn’t know much about Devil Fruit, though she was really no exception, as most people in Lil’ Logue didn’t have much information on such things. Nonetheless the scarce bit she did know had came from her adoptive father and the bandits he hung with when she was a youth. They had always spoken of the Shibui Shibui no Mi, as well as insisting that the reaper didn’t wield a scythe, but a pair of twin daggers instead. Of course the Dwarf didn’t know if this was true or not, the fruit existing or the reaper toting daggers, nonetheless it was her greatest ambition to find out for herself, as it was one of the main reasons she was driven to be a pirate, as well as escaping poverty once and for all.

Chuckling at the happy-go-lucky guys gitty attitude towards her name she replied, ”I like Waffles to. Dats wh’ma (Why my) dad named me dat. Or more so cause I really like breffast in general. Waffles D. Pancakes!” Staring up at the man, she looked at the height gap, causing a slight bit of annoyance to set in for a moment as she both thought about her circumstance of being poor and the huge height gap as she muttered under her breath,”If I can afford breffast…” . She always dreamed she would grow taller, she was a Mink after all, or at least she thought so. It would happen, she was destined for another growth spurt in her mind as she was only twelve. But she had bigger dreams of being able to feed herself properly without having to sift thru garbage sometimes in order to procure a meal for herself and Dandy. It was humiliating to say the least. Yet as she stuck in thought, it seemed the other guy wasn’t, as he hastily began to walk down the cobblestone road, his head switching sides as he attempted to find the shop that was his destiny.

Screaming out, ”Hey! You godda (got to) wait fer (for) me!” Leaning forward, the small lioness began to trot down the road, tail swaying as she caught up with him. As he continued to ramble on about what he was going to do next, Waffles couldn’t help but appreciate his attitude towards things. It wasn’t often you seen any sort of optimism or positive energy on her side of town, so the fact that he was so happy with such small things was a beautiful sight. Nonetheless he wasn’t from here, so he hadn’t gotten his spirit crushed by the Marine’s and town’s folk thinking less of people on the far end of the island. If he did, maybe he wouldn’t be so happy about anything. Regardless, she enjoyed his light nature, as she trotted towards the front of the pack in an attempt to lead him to the dankest food spot in Logue. Ironically it wasn’t even in the “upscale” area of Logue Town, instead it was just some busted diner with a single naked overhead light bulb and nowhere to sit. Despite how rundown it was, they had excellent food.

Waffles trot quickly came to an end, as Uso, a shopkeeper popped out in front of the new guy? What was his name? Then realized he hadn’t even told her. How rude!! Nonetheless, as Uso stepped out and began his speech about his shit quality items, Waffles clambered to an upright position, striding towards him as she hocked up the biggest loogie that she could summon rather audibly. Spitting the greenish-yellow mountain of spit on the man’s shoe, she said, ”Uso you uggy fuck. Dun talk ‘bout meh like’m (like I’m) not here.” Crossing her arms, she watched the man draw back his leg in what would be an attempt to kick her, but it seemed the importance of getting Flint’s money stopped him from doing so. Instead he just gave her an evil glare before putting back on his pretend smile. Turning her head towards the tall scarf wearing blonde, she nodded energetically, his stash becoming less and less appealing to her as the minutes went by. No common mark had ever offered her food before...hell no one in general on the island had ever offered her food before.

Nonetheless she tried to keep a look of toughness instead of wonderment on her face, as she replied, ”Yeppems! And I gotsa (got a) brother named Flapjacks! He’s an asshole...kinna like dis Uso guy.” As Uso turned a bit more red, he gave her a slight sweep of his leg, ushering her in a direction he didn’t want her to see...to his wares. All of that metal and steel, even if it was shit quality, made her face glow as she tried to recall the order that Flint wanted to put in. She wasn’t going to let some good guy give his money over to some low life scumbag like Uso. So as he worried about if the pair had Beli or not, Waffles slank thru the store, weaving between counters as she quickly began to rack up on weaponry. She had never owned a conventional weapon before, but she always wanted to! Mostly daggers, and with Uso distracted with the non-poor person, it seemed to be the best time to do so. One pair of nunchucks, a pair of gloves, and two daggers were taken with less noise than a mouse whistling as she made her rounds, making sure to see where Uso’s eyes were at all times.

It wasn’t like Waffles wasn’t aware that as soon as she stepped foot outside of the store he would check his inventory, and go into a nearly balding, beta rage and cause an uproar. But she didn’t care, nobody called her homeless...even if it was true. As she slank back to the front, she grabbed Flint by his hand, and began to drag him out of the store as she said, ”All of dis is shit, complete udder, shit! C’mon c’mon, lez go!” Tugging on his arm as hard as she could, she hopped that he followed along, as she hurriedly began scrambling down the road away from the weapons shop. As she got meters away, the sound of a Beta yelled thru the streets, ”Thief, thief! Little homeless stealing bandit bitch! THIEF!” Now she was beginning to sprint, as she began pulling items out of her makeshift skirt, procuring the nunchucks and the gloves before releasing Flint’s hand and scaling his shoulder with graceful agility. Tucking the items in the scarf, around his neck and the commotion began, she simultaneously made a play for the stash of Beli, attempting to relieve him of it, as well as creating an accomplice! They both had stolen goods, they were in this together!

As she stored away his items in his scarf, Waffles bellowed loudly, ”Ya gotsta do da ding. Do da jump ding!” That would surely get them out of there, as she held on around his neck with her arms, dirty feet gripping and clutching his shirt so she didn’t fall off during the ride.

Second Task:

Entering the crooked merchant's store, Flint's eyes lit up. He'd never seen so many different weapons before, especially of the bladed variety. It almost made him giddy. "Oooohhh look at all this stuff, Waffles.... Waffles?" He peered around for a moment looking for his new companion, the various shelves and glass covered display cases impeding his sight of the small girl. For a moment, it seemed like she had disappeared altogether. "Ahem, don't worry about her. She's probably digging around in a trash can somewhere, the filthy rat. Now, what are you interested in? A strong young man like yourself, you must be looking for a sword. Or perhaps a hefty battleaxe?" The merchant made it a point to have his voice be heard above all others in his domain, speaking loudly in an assertive manner. It made it really hard for Flint to focus. Not that he was even trying to focus, anyways.

Something about the man's words put him off. She was his guide, of course he should be worried about her. If something happened to her, how would he ever find his way around? He bookmarked the thought, however, after momentarily considering the fact that Waffles knew much more about their location than he, and therefore, the one he should worry about was himself.  Scratching his head, Flint hummed for a second, obviously unsure of how to respond."Well, I'm not really sure. I've never actually seen a sword up close before!" He gave the man a goofy grin, before turning tail and trapsing over to one of the larger stands at the center of the store.

 In it, sat a steel sword almost as large as Flint himself. With a foot long leather covered handle, and a four foot backblade with a wicked curve, it resembled an over-sized scimitar, or shamshir. Although, it's blade was also much more broad, and the dimensions more closely resembled that of a greatsword's. To the more perceptive eye, it would be obvious that Uso took a lot of pride in this blade, as it shone in the dimly lit store as if it were polished several times a day. Flint however, didn't have much of an eye for detail.

"Be careful with that! It's very expensive, stop!"  

Without a second thought, the young troublemaker haphazardly pulled the heavy greatsword from it's holder, gripping it's handle lazily with a single right hand. Of course, without realizing the weight it would possess, he had inadvertently driven the tip of the blade into the solid hardwood flooring that lined the shop, slicing the blade about a foot into the ground without effort. "Well, it's definitely sharp!" Flint cackled, before placing his left hand on the handle alongside his right and tugging lightly. It didn't budge. The blade, being curved, had managed to lodge itself in the thick floor below.

"What are you doing?! You idiot, let go of that, this instant! Uso became frantic, worrying Flint's shenanigans would damage the sword. In truth, it was one of the only genuinely valuable things in this shop, alongside a few other, smaller pieces. Since it and they were made of high quality steel, and the rest of the items in his shop were made with varying, lesser qualities of iron, it was the only piece for sale that was actually worth nearly as much as he was asking for.

"Nah nah, don't worry. I got it, I got it." He beamed, tugging harder than before. The wood at their feet cracked and splintered as the sword was violently ripped from the ground, in an uncontrolled manner. Flint, not equipped to wield a sword of this size, could not control the weight of the blade as he attempted to lift it from the earth. Following through with his motion, he accidentally swung the massive sword in Uso's direction, narrowly missing the now panicked shopkeeper by mere inches.

Before he could even apologize or return the sword to it's place, and before Uso could release his fit of rage, Waffles reappeared from seemingly nowhere. Clumsily dropping the blade as she took his hand, he began following her. "Where were 'ya? Really, that stuff sucked? Maybe you're right, I couldn't even hold that fancy sword thingy, it must have been broken!" The girl's urgency made him chuckle a little bit. Having someone so much smaller than him tug on his arm, it reminded of when he would play with the village kids back home, which left a huge smile on his face as he ran through the city streets behind the girl. They always looked up to the dojo students, but he was one of the only ones that would take time out of his training to interact with them. In fact, his master liked to say he spent more time playing with them than training.

Uso's voice behind them erupted angrily as they slipped in and out of people on the streets, further past the shop they had just left behind. "What's he talkin' bout? I ain't no thief, that's rude. And why's he callin' everyone homeless? Does that mean somethin' around here?" Totally unaware of the situation Waffles had put him in, he kept pace as she climbed his shoulders, although without her tugging on his arm it was almost easier to run. "Ohhh I get it, you can be the lookout from here! Where's next? ... Hey wait, what're you doing in there?" His gaze dropped from the people on the streets in front of him, to the girl's small hands shifting around inside of his scarf.

Highly protective of the neckwear, he was generally alert when it came to anything involving the piece, going as far to wash it when it got even a little blood on it, which was surprisingly often. "What're those? OH NUNCHAKU, FUCK YES."He casually clenched his fist in the air, in a celebratory motion as he continued his trot through the streets, now paying no attention at all to the world around him. When she reached for his beli, he didn't give it many thoughts. Maybe it's because he wasn't clever, or maybe it's because he just didn't care. "Oh right, how much did you want? I don't know how much people usually charge for these things" He was of course referring to the girl's job of showing him around town.

Although he awaited her price in order to barter, something he was also awful at given he had never done it, he was met with a command instead. "Jump? Okay!" He didn't really know why she wanted him to jump, nor did he even remember they were being followed at this point. Luckily for her, he didn't need a reason to jump. It was just so damn fun. Taking a stride onto his right leg, he launched forward, above the few people ahead of them. As he came down, he repeated the process, this time using both feet, launching him even further into the air.

"Watch this, hold on!" Flint called to the girl on his back, as he moved his left hand to the top of her head, ensuring her support for the following aerial stunt. Using the airtime he'd racked up previously, he did a double frontflip in the air. It was quite the spectacle, even the people busy going about their lives on the streets stopped and took a moment to appreciate it, while others shouted about possessed fruits and other nonsense. Planning to stick the landing, Flint extended both of his feet as he neared the ground. Grinning wide, he'd had his eyes closed for most of the descent, enjoying himself a bit too much.

For one unlucky pirate, this meant a broken collarbone, a few broken ribs and a lack of consciousness. The sound of the collision was both humorous and grotesque, as springing and cracking filled the air simultaneously. Having basically kicked this man in the chest on the way down, Flint now stood atop a large, bald man, wearing leather pants, as well as a leather vest. On the very same chest the young man's feet now occupied, there was a tattoo of a pirate woman's face, in great detail. While Flint didn't recognize it, it was the crew tattoo of the infamous Captain Nobeard, who made every man in her crew swear loyalty to her for life. They were essentially man slaves.

"Uh oh." Flint looked down at the man's face, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. It hadn't yet occurred to him to step off of the man's chest, and he was probably suffocating the poor pirate at this point. It wasn't until Flint heard someone yell at him from behind, that he hopped off onto the ground. "What the fuck do you kids think you're doing?!" A gruff, livid sounding voice came from the pair's rear.

As his feet hit the ground, Flint made sure to wipe his shoes off, as if the man he'd just collided with had cooties or something. "You think punks like you can mess with the Nobeard crew? Just 'cause you're kids you act like we won't kill you?! Are you new here, boy? Answer me." Turning to address the man belonging to the voice, Flint felt a little lost. Rather than just a single person being at his back, he found himself a few feet away from 9 pirates, all with the same leather clothing the man he'd landed on wore. Not all of them were bald, though they all also shared the same tattoo. "Waffles, what do these guys want? I can't understand people when they yell."

Enemy Details:

Flint dug into his ear casually using his pinky, noticing Waffles slinking away behind him, obviously frightened or uneasy. Listening to her words, he found himself in disbelief. These guys, bad? They seemed like such upstart gentlemen! Why, they even had matching tattoos of friendship! Although, he wasn't quite sure why they all had the same tattoo of some strange woman's face. In fact, on most of their muscular, scarred or somewhat obese bodies, she looked hideous, whoever she was.

Enjoying Waffles' tall tale, Flint's eyes widened with excitement. The girl was such a convincing liar, she'd even had him fooled. Or maybe it was simply because he was a fool himself. "Ahhh really?! I did all that? I bet it was so cool!" As the story became more elaborate and less believable, the boy started to put the pieces together. "Oh, wait... I mean, of course I did! If you mess with us, I'll treat you just like your friend here. I must warn you, I'm a master of Thugjitsu." He held his right hand out and clenched the fist, taking an obviously lax stance, before bursting into laughter. Flint looked over his shoulder and winked at Waffles in a goofy manner as his portion of the acting came to a close, as if he actually believed he had been convincing. No doubt, his poor acting performance did not help the girl's credibility at all. Not that it seemed she had any credibility among this group of men. To add to their discredit, the child had still been perched on his back the entire time, making their two man show all the more difficult to take seriously.

 Hearing Waffles' backup plan, Flint was filled with emotional turmoil. He was shocked that the men hadn't bought their story, especially after they had worked so hard on it. He even tried looking extra tough. However, he was also excited to see some action, as he hadn't since the tournament. These were pirates? They were supposed to be rough and tough criminals, but these guys just looked like an ugly woman's worship club. Shrugging his shoulders, he began stretching his legs as Waffles scampered back down his body. Leaning once to the right, then once to the left, he exhaled deeply.

"Guess there's no other way, then. After you guys, she'll be... one... two... three..." He used his fingers to count to the men, pointing to each of them individually, while trying to count by holding up the correct amount of fingers simultaneously. As a result, he appeared to be a simpleton. The pirates quickly grew impatient as he went about his scene. In the surrounding area, more and more people began leaving the streets, knowing battles involving pirates were dangerous for bystanders. Nine. Nine men closer to telling the truth." He flashed a large grin, apparently smug at his taunt. "When I kill you guys, do I get to meet the ugly lady? That's how pirates work, right?"

It seemed the Nobeard crew had a short fuse when it came to the disrespect of their captain. All regarding her as some sort of deity or goddess, they didn't tolerate insults of any kind. As Waffles scamped back up to her position on Flint's back, the man at the front of the group that had addressed them originally snapped. "Get em" The man howled, obviously butthurt. Taking a preemptive spring backwards to gain distance as they closed on him, he turned his attention to the girl at his back for a moment. "Know how to shoot that thing? Me neither. Hold on tight." He waited as the first man closed the additional gap, the rest of his crew collapsing just behind in a ninety degree arc.

Taking a swing at Flint with a short cutlass, the first man led the charge. Rather than stepping out of the way, or striking the man back, the young spring human saw the isolated pirate as a chance to set himself up for some sweet, sweet destruction. Springing straight up just before the blade would have slashed his chest, Flint hopped over the man's extended arm and shoulder. As he passed the pirate straight over, he put his feet closely together, pressing on the man's second vertebrae in his cervical spine, using it as a springboard of sorts. The result of the motion was Flint's propulsion forward, towards the rest of the men involved in the scuffle, while the pirate would find himself being forced to the ground from the intense vertical strain placed on his neck and spine. Shaping his right hand into a gun as he did so, while pointing it back at the now beginning to collapse pirate, Flint called out. "Waffles, bang, bang!" He knew she would understand just what he meant, they were on the same wavelength now.

As he flew towards the rest of the eight men left standing, he coiled his right leg and turned his hips, like chambering a bullet in a barrel. "Bane Bane, roundhouse!" Throwing a midair kick at the man most to his right in the now more tightly knit group of pirates, his leg extended forward by creating a springed joint at the knee, making up for the distance between the combatants. Though the pirate attempted to slice Flint's leg before it made contact with his gut, he simply wasn't quick enough to avoid or prevent the young man's shin and upper foot violently bludgeoning his soft underbelly. His ribs were easily broken, as he coughed up blood almost instantly. Sent flying from the impact, he was knocked into another pirate to his right, who in turn fell into the pirate next to him, being impaled on his comrade's drawn blade. As the man impaled was quite heavyset, he fell over dead on top of the ally who'd inadvertently killed him, pinning him to the ground for an unknown amount of time. Blood filled the cracks in the white tiles at their feet as the dead man bled out.

Following through with the kick, Flint finished the rotation of his shoulders, leaving him somewhat crooked in the air as he began his descent. He hadn't accounted for the additional weight Waffles added, and his balance was off as a result. As he neared the ground, he turned both palms into springs and used them to flip himself upright with a small bounce and somersault, returning to his feet again. Maybe five feet from the remaining combatants, he repeated the counting process from earlier, only this time without using his hands. Four were down, there were five more to go. While he would have loved to taunt them some more, the time for playing was gone. The men slowly began to spread out, more evenly surrounding him. They seemed hesitant, as if no one wanted to make the first move. Flint figured at this rate, they would simply wait for the man stuck beneath the corpse to join them, and attack him all at once.

"Fight, you pussies!" He shot one of them a stationary spring punch, merely striking him in the face and staggering him before hopping into the air again, far above their heads. Below, he could hear the pirates bickering between themselves. Landing on the rooftop of a shop just behind his previous position, the shingles cracked audibly. Kneeling to allow Waffles to descend, he yawned. "You wanna try killing one without the gun? It's pretty fun! Or should you run?" He was fully aware that his sentence rhymed, as he'd thought of it as he flew through the air toward his destination. Pretty quick thinking, if you asked him. While he wanted to give the girl the opportunity to defend herself, he also wanted to give her the chance to run if need be. He couldn't guarantee her safety if he kept fighting with her at his back. Hell, he couldn't guarantee his own safety doing anything.

"So, what'll it be? You can take the small fry on the left if you're feeling up to it."

Middle:

Crouching patiently as Waffles scampered off, Flint groaned audibly. "Awww and here I thought you were cool!" He complained loudly, in a playful tone. It didn't matter to him if she ran away, honestly. Without someone to protect, he could have a lot more fun here. Looking towards the pirates below, he called out to them. "You guys ain't gonna chase her? Good, I was worried I would have to rush myself." He rose to his feet, wiping blood from his right pants leg.

If it weren't for Waffles' small thumb peering from behind a building within his line of sight, Flint would have jumped into the fray and begun the fight without any further words. He was itching to fight, and now he didn't have a reason to retreat. Noticing her signal, he shot the girl a thumbs up in return. Although, from below, he appeared to be signaling the pirates themselves. He then sprung from the roof with another loud crack, this time creating a hole where he once stood, about two feet in diameter. While to most it would appear that the young man was falling and in danger, the pirates had already seen his ability. They knew they were the ones in danger.

"Shit, move!" The furthest one back called out, as the group evaded the flying man dropping on them from above in an attempted stomp. In their effort to dodge Flint's attack, the men backed themselves even further towards Waffles. The ground at his feet cracked and chipped, tiles splintering in several directions as his spring legs hit the ground. Unfortunately for the pirates, they were too focused on the scarfed lunatic to notice the impending doom closing in from behind.

Springing again using the inertia gained from dropping off of the roof, he took to the air as Waffles charged in, watching the commotion from above. She was fast. The moment Flint saw her take off, he knew there was nothing these men could do to stop her. He almost felt bad for the first two guys, they hit the ground before he could even really tell what was going on. Watching as a third grabbed her, he clicked his teeth. He sprung off the air above by turning so his head and torso to faced the ground, lunging towards the pair. To his surprise, she'd managed to break free of the man's hold herself, and wasn't in need of rescue. In fact, she'd made a clean escape. Sort of.

As he neared the ground at the group's feet, he outstretched his arms. He sprung from them in a handstand motion while flipping forward to face the two remaining men, who were now in pursuit of Waffles as she retreated to the safety of the building at his back. Barreling towards them, he gripped each of their faces in his left and right palms respectively, and turned them into springs as he pressed his hands violently into their skulls. With his body in the air between the two men, he pushed his arms forward as hard as he could, using the men to stop his aerial momentum. As a result, they were both forced off of their feet and onto their backs, their heads slamming into the pavement tile below. Blood oozed from the backs of their heads as they shattered the ground beneath them, Flint's palms driving their skulls further into the pavement. He pushed off of their fallen corpses with his hands once more, springing backwards uncontrollably, and into the building Waffles was now using to loiter.

Peeling himself from the now damaged wall with a grunt, he shot Waffles a thumbs up just as before. "You're a little killer! Hahaha, I told you it was fun!" He clapped his hands jovially, before he heard a grunt in the distance. Heaving the body of his oversized companion off of him, the remaining living Nobeard pirate rose to his feet, panting loudly. "You kids won't get away with this... When she finds out, you're de-" His words were interrupted as a gunshot filled the air, a bullet flying through his skull. A moment after the blood spewed from his skull, he fell over lifeless.

"She who? Hmmm, who's that? Those uniforms look familiar." Smoke fluttered from the rifle barrel of a marine soldier, as a squadron of ten marines poured in from the street to the left. They had obviously come from the marine base here in Loguetown, although Flint wouldn't have known there even was one. His runins with marines were few, and often displeasing. Back on Karate Island, marines only ever came by to try and take land from the farmers, sometimes by force.

From the street to the right, Flint could hear a small uproar growing. It sounded like a murmur exploding into a roar, as 20 pirates dressed in the same fashion charged into view, trampling the corpses of their fallen allies. The street was a disaster. There were bloodstains, broken tiles, cracked ground, and bodies everywhere. Devoid of civilians, including the persistent shopkeeper Uso, a battle on the ground had erupted.

"Halt, by order of the marines, you're all under arrest. Resistance will be met with deadly force." The marine that had fired the earlier shot calmly called out to the pair of Waffles and Flint, while addressing the large group of pirates simultaneously. The uniformed man seemed to know which option would be chosen, as he'd been eyeing down his sights the entire time, preparing to fire. "Uh-oh" With pirates and marines closing in from either side, Flint knew it was time to relocate.

Springing towards Waffles, he gently scooped her up under his arm and onto his back, before using the building at their backs to spring into the air. Bullets whizzed by the pair as they sprung about, dodging the eminent collision of the opposing factions. Watching the bloodshed below, Flint recognized quickly that the well trained marines were more skilled than the low class pirates, despite being outnumbered two to one. Addressing Waffles mid-air, he asked for her opinion. "Waddya say? Should we play some more, or get lost?" He shot her a toothy grin, his surprisingly white teeth taking over most of his face as they gently landed atop another building. This time he remained standing, rather than ejecting the girl from her piggy back ride.

More bullets found their way headed in the pair's direction. It seemed despite the chaos happening on the ground, men from either side still found time to focus on the pair of troublemaking  rascals. They must have been pissed. "Shit, no fair!" He sprung to the building beside the one he was on, narrowly dodging the light spray of fire. Thanks to their outdated firearms however, the waves of shots were slow and spaced, giving him enough time to spring to another building in the area to avoid them, circling the battlefield. In the process, many of the shops suffered heavy damage, from both the gunfire and Flint's chaotic pattern of springing.

The air was filled with the smell of gunpowder and smoke, and the streets were filled with even more blood and death than prior, as the numbers of the men thinned at a rapid pace. Before he knew it, there were less than half of the original numbers standing for each side. Four marines and seven pirates, to be exact. Many of the corpses were riddled with bullet holes and slashing wounds, indicating the ferocity of the battle that had been taking place. "Now's our chance! Yeehaw!" Flint recklessly sprung forward at the group of combatants, who'd finally swapped focus from the pair and started defending themselves from their opposing faction. The seven pirates were being driven back by the fire of the four marines, as they begun their retreat.

"Git um!" Flint hollered, grabbing the girl from his back and tossing her towards the fleeing pirates with a spring. He knew she could mop them up, most of them had already been shot once or twice. If there was anything living in the wilderness had taught him, it's that once the prey begun to flee, it was already good as dead. Now free from the girl's weight, he touched down with his feet and sprung forward once more, towards the marines. Evading their fire with several linear bounces in a serpentine pattern as he closed the gap, he was soon upon the four men.

The small girl's words rang in his head as he closed the distance between he and the remaining marines. "Things in the scarf?" He pondered momentarily, watching the most forward marine in the pack extend his rifle barrel, aiming it at his chest. "Oh, I know!" Flint chortled, springing forward to grip the rifle's stock with his left hand, he savagely tugged it upwards, forcing the barrel to face the sky. The shot fired into the air as the marine pulled the trigger, the loud noise causing Flint's ears to ring.

He hadn't had much experience with guns. Nobody on Karate Island ever used them, villagers opting to rely on the martial artists for protection. He knew they were dangerous, but he wasn't quite used to the sound of explosives, or the smell of gunpowder. If it weren't for how eager he was to fight, he might have even been distracted by the thundering sound and acrid smell. Digging in his scarf with his right hand, he gripped the iron handle of the pair of nunchucks Waffles had left there earlier, while releasing his left hand's grip on the barrel the marine had relinquished by now. The gun made an audible clacking sound as it hit the ground beneath them, bouncing around for a moment.

The marine at the front drew the cutlass from the sheathe at his left side using his right hand, lunging forward at Flint a single time in a stabbing motion. "Rude!" The boy spat, as he dodged to the left of the blade, fully brandishing a single set of iron nunchaku. Flailing it around wildly in an attempt to look like a badass, Flint hit his own arm several times, before dropping the weapon altogether. "Ow, that's difficult as shit!" He gripped his right forearm with his left hand, rubbing the impact areas roughly. He would definitely have bruises later. As easy and fun to use as the people back home had made them seem, Nunchaku were not for use by the unpracticed.

During this display, the other three marines surrounded the boy at various angles, guns drawn, with their fingers on the triggers. They formed a sort of diamond around Flint, with the disarmed marine at his front, one at each side, and one at his back. The man holding the saber at his front extended his blade to a few inches from Flint's chest, then cleared his throat before speaking. "Now, if you're finished... Notice you're surrounded before making your next decision. You and your accomplice are to be arrested, what are your names?"

Raising his hands above his head slowly, Flint smiled. "Oh us? I'm Flint Eulisses, and that's Waffles E. Marshmallows!" Butchering the girl's name, his voice echoed loudly throughout the streets, as if he were announcing their presence to the world. He heard the commotion behind him as the girl tore into the pirates, the screams of the men being cut short by the ripping and tearing of flesh. Through the gunfire and the sounds of the slaughter, he could hear the girl's laughter. "Aw, she's hoggin' all the fun. Tell ya what, I'll give you guys till I count from one to ten to run. One, two, ten!"

The marines looked at each other momentarily, skeptical of what the bumbling idiot was on about. What kind of fool would try to make a move with guns at his back? Putting his feet together to form a single large spring, he leaped over the marine holding the saber in one bound. Bullets from the marines at his sides and rear trailed him as he gained air, missing the spot where he once was. Reaching into his scarf again as he flew overhead, he withdrew the gloves Waffles had given him prior. "Oooh snazzy." He slipped them on as he descended, landing a few feet behind the wordy marine he had engaged prior. They were comfortable, and easy to twiddle his fingers around in, despite being covered in metal plating.

Bouncing from his landing point, he plowed towards the marine who had turned to face him, sword extended to strike at the scarfed criminal. Catching the blade with an open left hand, the scraping sound of metal on metal filled the area, as the glove protected him from being cut. He ran his left hand down to the blade's base, near the guard, and gripped tightly on the marine's wrist, where his hand met the handle. This was done to ensure the enemy couldn't release and flee, and to gain additional leverage, as Flint yanked the man forward. Forcefully thrusting his right hand into the man's gut with a punch, blood spewed from the marine's mouth and onto Flint's attire, as the metal plates dug into the skin at his stomach.

The other marines stood behind their dying comrade, guns drawn, and released a small hail of bullets. Gripping the lifeless corpse in his hand, Flint ducked down, maneuvering the body to be used as a shield of sorts for the first spray of bullets. Tossing the bullet riddled body aside, he bounced forward, wondering if the metal laden gloves would be able to hold up against gunfire as well. He figured there was only one way to find out.

Approaching the marine that was most to the left, Flint placed his right fist against the barrel of the gun in the man's hands, roughly kneeing him in the groin using his right knee simultaneously. As a reaction to the pain in his nads, the marine pulled the trigger. Flint winced as he heard the shot collide with the iron that plated his knuckles, almost expecting to lose a finger or two. To his surprise, the iron held up. Instead, the gun backfired as the bullet failed to leave the barrel, causing gunpowder residue in the old styled gun to heat up and explode, albeit mildly. The resulting heat momentarily caused the iron plating to light up like burning coals, burning Flint's hand within the glove. He loudly proclaimed "Hot! So hot! Guns are stupid!" as he gave the man a quick strike to the face with the scorching glove, tearing into his skull and burning his flesh. The blood spewing from the wound cooled the metal on his fists, providing temporary relief to the howling boy, though he would most certainly suffer a burn wound on his knuckles if left untreated.

More bullets, more springing. It didn't seem to matter how many times the last two men fired at him, they couldn't land a shot that would halt Flint's approach. Targeting the one across from the man he'd just slain in the diamond formation, Flint gripped his face violently, digging the fingers on his left hand into the flesh around his eyes and cheeks. Performing a light jump upwards, he brought his right shin to the back of the man's head, using his hand to propel the man's skull into his leg simultaneously. The result resembled a cantaloupe or watermelon being smashed with a hammer, as Flint twisted about in the air to recover from the motion, and the body hit the ground.

The last man remaining at the back of the diamond formation, scared for his life, dropped his gun and began screaming loudly. "Please! I just signed on with the Marines two months ago, I don't wanna die, let me go!" He cowered, lowering his head and dropping to his knees. Landing on one leg whimsically, Flint hopped about, laughing. "Ah c'mon, you're not even gonna try? Fine fine, get outta here." He rolled his eyes, dashing forward at the man and gripping him by the collar of his uniform, before springing up into the air with him in his grip. At the peak of his small leap, he tossed the man forward with all of his strength, sending him flying down the street. He would be wounded for sure, but he would live nonetheless.

"And tell your friends not to mess with us, too!" He called out behind the sole survivor as he tumbled down the street, then crawled to his feet and limped in the direction of the marine base. Turning back to face Waffles, he looked at the mass of corpses at her feet, and the smile that stretched her face. The streets were bloodstained, it looked like a massacre had taken place. "Hmmm, is that all of 'em?" He pointed to the dead pirates, wondering if their crew had been wiped out. "Where's the ugly tattoo lady?" He inquired aloud, removing the gloves from his hands and tucking them back into his scarf. Glancing at his right hand, he could see the sear marks in the flesh of his knuckles. Scars were supposed to be a good thing among martial artists, as damaging one's body made it stronger over time. Seeing that he had acquired one already made him grin. He would be strong and respected soon, no doubt about it.

Flint scratched his head with his free hand, twirling his finger about in tufts of the fluffy cotton atop it as the girl wrapped his seared hand in the blood stained, tattered cloth from her from her leg. "Really? They're bad people?" He couldn't be so sure. After all, he was sure most people would consider him a bad person, even though he'd like to think he was nice enough. Before he'd been exiled, people from his island called him all sorts of mean things. Monster, murderer, lunatic, you name it! All because he ended a man's life in a completely fair one on one fight. It occurred to him that maybe people simply had differing opinions of right and wrong, and that they were quick to judge. As the girl tightened the wrapping around his knuckles, he thought back to his few encounters with the Marines in his life.

A memory returned to him, one he hadn't thought of for a long time. His parents had been taken by the Marines for resisting their attempted occupation of his island, their beloved carrot farm burned to the ground. If it weren't for his old master, he would have been homeless and starving, likely dead by now. The pieces to the puzzle that only seemed to puzzle him began to fit as he thought about the signs that only now seemed so obvious. Waffles was homeless and starving. It was probably because of those guys, too. The way they spoke seemed as though they thought themselves superior, as though the laws were shaped by their beckon call. Furrowing his brow, Flint's face formed the first serious expression it had in weeks. People shouldn't have control over other people, it was up to individuals to control themselves. Or in Flint's case, to be completely uncontrolled.

"Right. Kill 'em all. What's this for?" He held up his now wrapped hand, turning it at different angles to examine it. The idea of tending to one's wounds was new to him, as his recent time spent living off of the land hadn't afforded him such a luxury. Or maybe it was because he simply wasn't smart or thoughtful enough to care about his own wounds, often opting to leave them open to heal with time. It was a wonder he hadn't died as a result of an infection by now.

He hadn't noticed the trot of the small army until it was almost already upon them, more of the men in leather strolling out onto the streets in a strange formation, sweeping up the bodies of their dead comrades. Flint made an audible oohing sound as the men piled in, one after the other. Taking it upon himself to count their ranks, he ran over each of them with a finger, pointing to the men slowly. He lost count several times in this process, and double counted a lot of the men, before giving up in a breathy, disappointed groan.

As the captain showed herself, he clapped excitedly, hopping around in place with a smile. "It's her it's her it's her, tattoo ladyyyyyy." He jovially said, in a sing-song voice. This was the moment he'd been waiting for, the mystery would unravel itself! Or, what he thought was a mystery. Really, he was the only one left out of the loop. Everyone who frequented Loguetown knew who Captain Nobeard and her crew were. It was said that when she walked down the streets, pathetic men would throw themselves at her feet, pledging their loyalty, while the smart ones ran for their lives, to avoid inevitable slavery.

He quietly examined the interaction between the amazon sized woman and his new companion, humming to himself all the while. Immediately, he could tell this woman was full of shit, likely delusional. If she thought she or anyone else could tame Flint, she was dead wrong. Many skilled fighters had tried and failed to instill discipline in the unruly, wild blonde, and none found success. There wasn't a way in hell he would become a slave to a woman who couldn't even maintain a competent crew. Seriously, these men were pathetic.

As Waffles burst into tears, Flint gently placed his bandaged palm atop the crown of her head, before crouching beside her and giving her a smile at eye level. "A pirate, huh? That's whatcha want? Sounds fun. Let's do it." He tried to sound as comforting as he could, while still maintaining his upbeat attitude. It was decided, they were to become pirates now. After all, it was the only decision that made any sense. Flint's goal was to become as strong as possible and one day return to his island with the fame of a renowned martial artist, to be accepted among his people and master once more. There was no way he could accomplish such a thing without sailing the seas. Plus, piracy simply sounded fun.

Rising to a stand again, he fiddled with the bandage on his hand, clenching his fist several times. He wondered if it would stay on while he clobbered these guys, as he listened to Waffles' outburst. "Atta girl, loud and proud" He muttered, struggling to count the men surrounding their ill-mannered captain. There were at least thirty of them from what he could see, not including the two men she'd killed herself. In his mind, he couldn't help but be disgusted with how her crew allowed themselves to be treated, as if they were animals or dogs. Though he had been taught to respect his opponents, he knew it was something he could no longer do, at least when it pertained to the Nobeard crew. They weren't men, they weren't fighters. They were just fodder to be brushed aside, and if he didn't do it, their own captain would.

"Hold them back? Easy enough. Just wait for them to leave her open." He calmly stated, stepping in front of the girl, approaching the group of men who were surrounding their Captain. He figured he wouldn't want to hurt the woman anyways, so this worked out wonderfully. Extending his hand and pointing like some kind of idiot, he shouted at the woman captain as the stampede of men approached him. "I'll show you low quality, lady! When we're done with you, you'll be as ugly as you look in tattoo form!" The men steadily approached, forming an infantry square of sorts, with seven men per row, and four per column.

Twenty eight of the weaker men led the charge in the bulk of the square, swords, clubs, and pistols drawn. In the back sat five pirates with rifles, who approached more slowly, cautiously eyeing their captain's flank. Taking note of these five men, Flint made it his goal to disrupt them, to allow Waffles to pass through or around their numbers safely, without drawing fire. "You'll need more people than that!" The young man shouted, springing straight into the square recklessly. He needed to draw their attention, even if it meant overwhelming himself momentarily.

The first man he collided with in the second column took a haymaker to the skull from above, forcing his face into the tile beneath his feet. Flipping over his shoulder as he followed through with the motion, Flint extended his legs using springs, kicking the man behind him in the row with his right heel, and the man behind him with his left heel. The resulting shockwaves from these spring kicks sent the man at the rear of the column flying, colliding with one of the stronger pirates at the back, and knocking his gun to the ground. Now knee deep into the center of the square formation, Flint immediately bounced upwards the moment his spring legs felt pavement, narrowly avoiding being bludgeoned by a pirate to his left, and impaled by a pirate to his right as they attempted to converge upon him. As a result of his sudden disappearance, the men attacked each other by accident, killing each other.

The square of men broke formation, turning into a clusterfuck of bodies below, waiting to attack Flint as he reentered their range from above. The men holding pistols on the ground kept their eyes fixated upwards, popping poorly aimed shots at Flint as he soared through the sky, using their low grade weaponry. The riflemen ambled forward, joining the group in taking shots at the bouncing man they considered suicidal. The one that had been knocked over had now recovered and ambled back to his feet, although his rifle was buried beneath his comrade's body, and so he drew a dagger and joined the mosh pit of angry men up ahead.

Springing from the air itself in various directions, he avoided their fire without much worry. Though he detested fighting in such a manner, it seemed he would have to take to a hit and run style to thin their numbers out without getting too hurt. Between bounces, he shot spring loaded punches at the men he noticed had firearms, before changing direction and darting off again, never settling in one spot for too long. His strategy was to eliminate any of the men with ranged weapons first, so he could later go in and mop up the men using melee weapons at once. He hoped he could buy Waffles enough time, and that the men were too focused on surviving him to target the girl as the no doubt found a sly way to attack their captain.

As this pattern continued, he thinned their numbers. With each strike, he attempted to attack in a way that would leave them unable to aim and shoot properly should they even survive, such as targeting their eyes, or breaking the fingers on their gun hand. Darting to the ground behind the group as the number of gunmen fell below five, he swept seven men off of their feet with a well placed spring roundhouse, breaking a few of their legs in the process, before leaping over them and stomping on two of their skulls, one with each foot. The audible squishing sound filled the air as his boots were stained with blood, the rest of the men turning to face him. No more than eighteen of the original thirty three men still stood in fighting condition, though many pistols and a few rifles lined the tiles at their feet. Among their numbers, three rifleman still stood, shakily aiming their weapons at Flint. It was clear they were intimidated.