Emanuel D. Angelov
"All Losses in this world are due to a lack of ability"
It was a bracingly crisp, cool night out on the cobblestones of the Commons. The stars were out and it was otherwise pleasant to observe while out on a stroll. The local tailor and cobblers down the street had hung some large, uncut, and husky strips of leather out on their front porch. The Blacksmith was extinguishing their furnace, leaving the earthy, pungent smoke of burnt coal to drift and linger down by the opposite side of the block.
On his patrol route, Emanuel took a cautious glance in the blacksmith's direction before turning and striding down the block, his eyes and ears open for any sign of a disturbance. His left brow rose up curiously as he stopped at the sight of the doused strips of leather. They had been soaked and it seemed the tailor was drying them out for the morning. Nothing unusual, but the corner of each had been scored with a knife to make some interesting markings.
He went along on his way, though took a mental note of the curious markings. On the next block, he was just as judicious and thoroughly went about his job when he came to the northern block at the foremost corner of the Commons. Ordinarily, there were ruffians and other disreputable sorts hanging out around this area. Instead of the casual street thugs, he saw two Marines sitting on a staircase without a care in the world and smoking. In uniform no less. By chance, they were both easily recognizable to him. One was the commodore he had worked with once and the other was another ensign that was slightly his junior (if he recalled correctly).
They passed around what looked like more of the same stuff that he always smuggled in as Emanuel sighed to himself. He hated lazy, good-for-nothing Marines who lazed around on the job and never took this seriously. He could just decide to pass them by and ignore them, but he decided against that option.
"Tired of watching this scene over and over again..." This happened way too much and too often with the same people every time.
Emanuel could be playful and he loved a good time as much as the next guy, but he wouldn't be caught playing hooky on a job. Even if one of them was his superior in rank, he knew from experience that the man had less than half his work ethic. Not to mention, he hardly spoke as much to the other ensign if he ever had at all. Once dug into his memory, he could the white-haired scruffy man's name only vaguely, though he wasn't a hundred percent certain.
The half-fishman took a sniff of the air and then looked back around at the strips of leather that were still strung up on a post and then a devious half-smile touched the ensign's lips. He quickly grabbed the two pieces of leather and then hurried around the house so he came out right behind where the two of them were sitting and looking like they weren't exactly all-there mentally.
Just as the two of them started talking about not getting in trouble, Emanuel would plop his face between them and surprise them before speaking.
"Hope it's worth getting chewed out again by our superiors." Emanuel then promptly dropped the heavy ends of the two chunks of soaked leather on their faces with a resounding 'SMACK' that echoed across the block before getting up and roughly shoving his foot into Nazaki's back.
"You want me to make sure the Rear Admiral knows it was you two shirking on the job again and making the rest of us work twice as hard?"
- Equipment:
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