Under the Gun

[Shrikeswind]

Hey, folks! Some of you may be familiar with this title, and if so, you'll be pleased, perhaps, to realize I've managed to kick it off again, though not in a way I'd have expected when I started it and that I know you won't have. The following story is less a story and more a compilation of events that are loosely connected, but can really stand alone. The first chapter is a bit lackluster, I'll admit, but it's all uphill from here.[/color]

Chapter 1

The mighty St. Elizabeth had been sailing a week, her destination a week off just as well. Around noon, her lookout saw in the distance a ship.
"SHIP HO!" she cried, rousing the attention of the captain.
"HER COLORS!?" the captain shouted.
"NAVY OF THE FLAME!"
Navy of the Flame? This surprised the captain. The war had ended fairly recently, but the Navy of the Flame had very few ships in these waters, having primarily headed for Port Bismarck.
"DYLAN!" cried the captain. From the lower decks came a boy barely 13. He saluted, hand to his rusty-red bandana.
"Sir!"
"I need you to hail a ship over the port."
"Aye, sir!" and without another word, he rushed to the portside. The captain smiled at his cabin boy's enthusiasm. Dylan's blaze, a massive arrow pointing down at the St. Elizabeth, immediately caught the attention of the battleship, and when he cleared the flame, the lookout could read the ship's name.
"SHE'S THE SEA BUCKET!"
The Sea Bucket. That'd explain it. The Sea Bucket had developed quite a reputation from the amount of battles she'd seen and won, but her purpose was a messenger ship. The Sea Bucket's presence in such unorthodox waters clarified, the captain turned to Dylan when the Sea Bucket pulled alongside the St. Elizabeth. One of her soldiers stood at the railing.
"Sir," the soldier called over to the Elizabeth's captain, "I have a message for one Dylan Robertson. We recieved word that he was signed on this ship. Is this true?"
"Aye," replied the captain. "He's our cabin boy. Dylan, come back here!"
Dylan turned, confused, as he did not hear the conversation.
"Yes, captain?"
"These men are looking for you."
"Sir?" Dylan asked, turning to the soldier.
"Dylan Robertson, son of Sergeant Joseph Robertson?"
"Yes, Sergeant Joseph is my father. Does he serve on the Sea Bucket?" Dylan asked, hope ringing in his voice.
"No, and no ship shall he serve again. I regret to inform you that your father is dead."
"What? When did he die?" Dylan asked, horror in his voice.
"Two years ago at Bismarck. Take pride in knowing this, though, your father didn't go down without a fight, and it took the Demon General himself to put him in his grave."

Dylan had not registered that the Sea Bucket had left, nor that a ship had attacked. In fact, by the time he had finally registered that he was an orphan and could thus return his attention to the world around him, the St. Elizabeth was sinking, all her lifeboats gone. The sound of gunshot rang out, and Dylan realized that he was completely alone. Turning to the stern, he saw that it was submerged, and he was peering into the sea. Sharks had begun to swarm, eating something Dylan could only assume were the corpses of the dead of the crew.
"IS THIS WHAT YOU WERE TO DO TO ME!?" Dylan screamed into the sky, the tears pouring from his eyes. "AM I MERELY A PAWN FOR YOUR CRUELTY!?"
But before he could form another sound came a reply from behind and below.
"KATARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!"
A shark launched from the sea, bloodied and possibly dead, clear over Dylan's shoulder. He turned to see a tan-skinned boy, punching a shark so hard in the nose it may have shattered the skull but certainly killing it.
"WHO DO YOU SHARKS THINK YOU'RE MESSING WITH!? I AM QUINN, LORD OF THE SEAS!"
And even before the ship had finished sinking and Dylan found himself afloat, Quinn had fought off the sharks. He looked Dylan in the eyes.
"You don't have an aspirin, do you? I think I gave myself a headache."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Quinn Legend. Who're you?"
"Dylan Robertson."
"Probably stupid to ask, but you aren't related to Sarge Joe, are ya?"
"Sarge Joe?"
"Yeah, Sarge Joe. Alot of folks call him that. Sergeant Joseph Robertson."
"I knew him. He WAS my father."
"I detect a hint of past-tense there, Dill. Care to explain?"
"He's dead."
"Is he, now? Pity. If half the crap I've heard about the man's true it'd have been nice to meet him. But hell, I met his son and that's awesome. I take it you're for land?"
"I'm for drowning."
"What a way to let your father down, there. The mighty Sarge Joe in all his mythos dies, killed fighting more likely than anything else, and his son's gonna let his father down by not trying to avenge him."
"It was the demon general."
"What's your point? He's man as any, if more evil than most."
"A POWERFUL man. I don't think I can take him."
"No, not as you are now, you miserable little wretch," Quinn joked as he hauled at a rope, pulling a canoe floating in the distance closer. "Now get on, you're young and so is he. We have plenty of time to get your revenge."
As Dylan climbed aboard, he saw the figure of a robed woman walking across the water, coming from several leagues off toward the wreck.

Dylan was surprised at the amount of time, or rather the lack thereof, it took to reach shore.
"How did you know this island was here?"
"It's actually part of an archipelago. It's not on the maps, the residents don't like visitors."
"Natives?"
"Pirates. I got marooned on this one in particular during a mutiny once. Lucky me, they themselves won't come here for the vicious jungle dragon that lives here."
"J-jungle dragon?"
"Eh, he's harmless, really. I've met him. Just a stupid git who can throw a tantrum so hard the tantrum can be considered its own entity. I think you lost your shoes out there, dude."
"Oh, no, I just haven't worn shoes since I signed onto the St. Elizabeth."
"Here's a question I got. Why would you get a tattoo on the sole of your foot?"
"Hm? Tattoo?"
"Yeah, right foot's got this fire-looking thing on it. What's the deal? You like it hot?"
"Oh, my birthmark. I was actually born with that. I'm not sure where it comes from."
"Hm. I got one too. I can't exactly show it to you, though, it's a touch embarrassing. Okay, screw this, this headache's been killing me since I rescued you." Quinn rushed up the beach and began to dig. Momentarily, Dylan couldn't see him for the hole, and soon afterwards, a crate came flying through the air. Dylan rushed to the side as it landed in the sand where he was just sitting.
"DUDE, WATCH IT!"
Quinn climbed out of the hole.
"Did I almost get you? Sorry!"
When Quinn opened the crate, Dylan took a peek inside as well, where he saw, among other things, two plastic bottles of a yellow liquid, five bottles of aspirin, a large roll of bandages, a machete, and three empty milk jugs.
"Provisions. Just in case."
"And food isn't a provision?"
"Food doesn't keep well underground. The bugs around here are vicious, and if they don't get to it the fungus brains of theirs will soil it anyway. You're better off getting food the old-fashioned way."
"Being..."
"Caveman style. Aside from the pigs, and I don't like pork enough to go for it, there's also fishing, and let's not forget edible fruits, of which this island is packed."
"I'm gonna have to live on fruit?"
"Or fish or pork."
"I'm a vegetarian."
"Ah, I see. Well, then, yes, you'll have to live on fruit."

Five years spent on the island, and Dylan had grown into a strong young man, capable of kicking a boulder to gravel. Quinn himself had spent much less time on the island, and developed quite the reputation, much of which was exaggerated and the stories aren't of much interest. And the dragon? He turned out to be a boy of Dylan's age by the name of Foster, but he really wasn't too competant in the first place so any of his stories during the five years would be so unbearably idiotic as to be untellable.

[kirbychu]

I don't recognise any of those names, and Google isn't helping.

[Shrikeswind]

Yeah, that's because they're specific to this story. However, this IS a fan-fic in a sense, and you'll see what sense in the next chapter, which details the back-story of one of the villains, who is also one of the BEST characters I've come up with EVER. And this says quite a bit, since I've come up with some pretty awesome characters in my time. But he ranks up there with several names. Back to topic, though, for anyone who's read the original comics, I'd like to ask we not talk about the surprise I have in store for those who haven't, including Kirbychu here. You know, the one which makes this a fan-fic. I'd post it now, but I'm heading off in a bit.

[Johans Nidorino]

I guess I remember this.

I loved it in comic form, though. Consider nobody in here posts comics, so you could keep us entertained that way

[Shrikeswind]

Yeah, but remember how it was originally a sprite comic, and I was looking for better sprites? The reason I needed better sprites was because it was made out of game sprites, and I couldn't get 'em to look like they were looking at each other. Besides, as the game universe expanded, UtG had to, as well, and since the game universe expanded as it did, it'd mean that every new character would be in a different style and I'd have to either keep changing to keep it up or to wait until someone dropped the graphics. Or use customs, and there weren't enough customs to fit my needs.

Oh, and chapter 2 is well under way. Warning: Those with weak constitutions may wish to not read it.

[Prince~Of~Light]

I liked the few funny quotes at the start- And seeing from ending, this might lead into a trail of a new story-