Checking Up [Brand]

[JAVIER SANTANA]

World Eaters. His crew, his new life. His last crew was short lived, and their captain was a complete failure. Where he had fallen in combat, Javier was forced to step up and take charge, avenging the fallen crew. He had made quite a name for himself around these parts, mostly due to his two recent battles and the fallout of his small time crew. No one seemed to blame the man; now, if that was due to fear or respect or honest to good understanding that his position had no part in the crews dismissal, no one knew. Well, maybe they did, but he sure as hell didn't, and as he sat at the oak forged bar, he downed a bottle of rum with a light buzz.

He wasn't drunk, nowhere near it. Others may have thought differently, as his position was slightly fixated upon the glass of alcohol before him. Two blades at his side, two at his back, the man was well armed for a swordsman, and he always made good use of his weaponry. He held quite a surprise in his twin Tsurugi's upon his back; one was a seatone forged max grade blade, the one his left most side, and it was identical almost to the other Tsurugi.

A plume of unique, aberrant smoke filled the atmosphere around Javier as it slowly filtered out of his lips, slowly castrating the lungs within him. He didn't give a fuck. Sitting there, alone in the tavern, people surrounded, and still he sat alone. Rumors had spread through the town of how he had killed a few marine's awhile back, kicked a chef's teeth in, how his crew had disbanded after he dueled Kid the Pirate in the street, taking the kid's belongings, and how the defeater of his previous crew's captain, Zelio Bleu, had been avenged in a single punch by Javier Santana, whom now stood with the World Eaters. How he came about them was unknown to any but he and his crew, but Javier knew that these people were actually on his level. The last crew? They were childs play.