Chapter 1: Down The Rabbit Hole

Aylin didn't see why she had to get stuck with the task of showing the new guy around; she had books to tend to, not to mention the job of contacting one of their clients about the shipment that was now late...it was probably going to be a long night, she surmised. Not that she had anything else to do. Still, most of her superiors were away on business at the moment and those who remained had ever so graciously delegated the duty of dealing with the newbie to her.

And he was late.

She sighed, arms crossed as she leaned against the cool brick building by the docks. Their trade masqueraded as a shoe factory on Agora Island; she imagined the unsuspecting town of Penndel wouldn't take kindly to the knowledge that deep beneath the immense, otherwise uninteresting structure sat a vast and complex underground operation known as the Blackburn Syndicate.

It was one of the most infamous and successful black market organizations of its time. Due to the protection of the island offered by the great pirate Whitebeard, the marines didn't dare to approach it for investigation. The Syndicate's leader had also been very clever to evade apprehension throughout the years. Even to this day, their identity remained a mystery.

The redhead found herself wondering if perhaps the new guy had gotten lost. Could it be that he'd changed his mind and wasn't coming? She wouldn't blame him for that; her line of work could be rough and certainly was not for everyone. It was a risky, often times demanding business, and with decidedly unpleasant company at that.

Five more minutes passed. She was about to give up and go back inside when she noticed a particularly tall figure divert from the main flow of people on the busy streets in the distance, heading down the cobblestone walkway in her direction.

'That must be the guy,' she thought to herself as she watched him saunter coolly down the path, casually smoking a cigarette...until he somehow lost his footing and unceremoniously fell flat on his back. Aylin groaned inwardly, 'Don't let this be the guy...'

She looked on while the tall man recovered from his fumble. He stood up, taking a moment to pat clouds of dust from his jeans and smooth out his button-down shirt before ambling the rest of the way over to her. Aylin noted that he'd lost his cigarette during the mishap. Drawing closer to where she was waiting, he met her eyes and offered her a sheepish grin.

"Ah... Hi, I'm Rocinante...sorry I'm late!" He held out a relatively massive hand while leaning over toward the shorter woman. His stature was evidently the cause of many of his problems.

Aylin gave him a fairly unimpressed look in return and did not acknowledge his extended hand. Instead, she pushed herself off the side of the building and wordlessly began to head around the corner toward an entrance that she and the other associates used, as not to draw too much attention to their comings and goings. She was ten strides toward the other end of the building when she realized that she hadn't heard footsteps following after her.

Turning back toward him, Aylin raised one eyebrow. "You coming or not?"

Rocinante dropped his hand, jutting his lower lip out slightly. "Uhh...you're not even going to tell me your name?" He paused to light up a new cigarette, taking a long drag on it before following after her. He nearly stumbled once or twice, though it only took him a few strides to catch up. "Miss...?"

Aylin held back an irritated sigh. "You really are a rookie, aren't you?" She muttered. "No concept of discretion..." Rolling her eyes, she continued to lead him toward the back door. Once there, she paused only momentarily to unlock it and then ushered him inside once it was open. It wasn't until the door was shut and locked behind them that she finally spoke. "Aylin. That's my name."

"Aylin," he repeated to himself. "That's lovely!" He grinned at her and then turned his gaze around the warehouse, mentally taking stock of just how big the place was. He noted the low-hanging tiled ceilings and took extra care to avoid banging his head.

They were standing inside a large room of wall-to-wall shelving, presumably filled with boxes of shoes. Aylin didn't linger, walking briskly toward another door in a darkened corner which was hidden behind a row of shelves that had been pushed closer to the wall.

She seemed to ignore his comment altogether as she simply said, "Come on, keep moving."

The tall blond hunched over, following after her as she led him to what he gathered was some sort of secret entrance to where they undoubtedly kept 'the good stuff.' "So you're giving me the grand tour, eh? I'm sure they sent you because you're the nicest, Miss Aylin."

She snorted at that remark. "Something like that," she replied dryly.

Rocinante wasn't exactly trying to weasel his way into her good graces...okay, so maybe he was. He needed these people to like him, after all. He needed to show her that he wasn't just going to be a nuisance, that he knew a thing or two about firearms. The Blackburn Syndicate commonly dealt with merchandise such as devil fruits, illegal drugs, counterfeit goods and even human trafficking, although they appeared to be most notorious for their weapons and arms. In order to advance quickly within the organization, Rocinante knew that he needed to prove himself both knowledgeable and competent...provided his inherent clumsiness didn't get in the way first.

"Look, don't feel like you have to babysit me," he said, nearly stumbling in the darkness once more. "I appreciate your help, since I am new here and all. I'll...try not to knock over anything expensive." He chuckled and gave her a thumbs-up gesture, hoping to earn a smile from her.

Unfortunately, all it got him was about two seconds of her attention and a blank stare before she turned back to the door, unlocking that one as well with another key from the ring full of similar-looking ones.

After six years in the business, Aylin had earned herself a fair amount of trust from the higher-ups, and along with being granted those keys came the freedom to enter and exit the base of operations as she pleased...though she highly suspected that it was not so much the fact they trusted her as it was the fact that they knew she would never betray them.

She led Rocinante down the dimly lit stairwell and then through a couple of short hallways before arriving at a larger, heavier door. Stopping there, she unlocked that door using three different keys. Finally the last bolt clicked and the door swung open.

"After you," Aylin said as she gestured him forward.

Rocinante sighed at the large amount of awkward silence that had passed between them, although truthfully it was unsurprising. First impressions didn't always go over very well for him, but he was determined to get the redhead to warm up to him.

He ducked through the rather small doorway into yet another dimly lit room. Luckily this one had higher ceilings, although the top of his head still brushed the panels above. He bumped one of them as he walked and sent it off-kilter. The noise started him and caused him to duck immediately. Unfortunately, that movement sent him off-balance and he suddenly found himself waving his arms wildly as he attempted to regain his equilibrium. Failing that, he grappled for the nearest object, which happened to be a large wooden table, but it was too late; he went down like a tree falling in a forest, taking the piece of furniture along with him. Documents went scattering into the air when the table flipped. Papers covered in pictures and words fluttered all around him, landing nearby as he lay in a defeated heap on the floor.

Aylin had halted upon hearing the cacophony behind her, turning just in time to see the storm of paperwork fly into the air. She frowned, once again cursing the fact that he had been put under her charge for the day and wondering whose idea it had been to hire this guy.

Rocinante felt his back crack when he sat up and he groaned slightly. "No, no, I'm fine, really. Don't worry about me..." His face began to burn when he heard a chortle from within the room. It was only then that he noticed there were several other people in the vicinity, and he'd just made himself look like a complete fool! He stood up slowly, trying to maintain whatever ounce of dignity he had left.

"This is the new kid Blackburn hired? I'll give him about three days," scoffed a burly man with tattoos covering his bald head.

"Three days? That's generous! Three hours and I'll be amazed!" Another man jeered, smirking down at the new face as he puffed on a cigar.

"Haha! What a jackass," a third chimed in.

Aylin gave the three of them a withering glare. "Save the dumbass commentary for after you've finished unloading the shipment...which, judging by the all these boxes piled up here, you haven't done yet." She didn't wait for them to make anymore comments, instead turning her attention back to the new guy, who had finally managed to right himself and rise to his full height...which served to shut the shorter men up for the moment as he actually towered over them. She shook her head. "Come on, I need to show you where you'll be working..."

Rocinante rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. His elbow accidentally bumped against the ceiling, loosening another one of the panels and he grappled to catch it, to no avail. It fell and broke in half.

"Um...sorry...I can, uh...PAY FOR THAT!" Snickers and hushed jeers followed the unwieldy man as he followed Aylin. "It was nice meeting you all! ...Kinda," Rocinante called over his shoulder before he disappeared into another room.

Aylin couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy for the newcomer, even if she was convinced that he was more than likely going to turn out just the same as all the others.

"Nevermind them. Everyone here is an asshole," she stated in a matter-of-fact way. "You just have to give it right back to them." The room she led him into next was a much larger one. It boasted very tall ceilings to accommodate the rows upon rows of boxes sitting on palettes stacked high. Several workers were carefully maneuvering pallet jacks full of merchandise to and from the loading dock outside.

"Anyway, I don't know what you expected to be doing, but all the new blood start here. It's a lot of tedious grunt-work, but if you do well and don't slack off, you'll find other opportunities popping up." She glanced up at him, noting that as large as he was, he had a youthful face. "You look like a strong kid, so I think you'll be a big help to these guys unloading all the merch."

Rocinante almost snorted in amusement; just how young did she think he was? Either way, it didn't matter. He resolved to let them think whatever they wanted about him. He was going to fit in one way or another. He always did. It was something he was good at, which was why he got so many of these jobs. He was actually relieved to see that most of the people within the organization seemed to be the terrible sort, as it would be that much easier to turn them in once he'd gotten enough information to bring the Blackburn Syndicate down.

After that, he'd be one step closer to being able to pursue his real, ultimate goal: putting a stop to his older brother's madness. They'd been separated for most of their lives, though Rocinante had never forgotten the events that had led him to this point. He'd scoured the news for any small amount of information regarding his brother, keeping whatever clippings and pictures he found in a folder. He vowed to find a way back to Doflamingo one day, and hopefully without having to explain his long absence. There had to be some way...he just hadn't thought of it yet.

Breaking from his reverie, he gave his superior a smile. "Thanks a lot, Miss Aylin. I gotta say, I'm pretty relieved that I can actually stand up in here!" He laughed awkwardly as he took a look around the room. "I don't mind grunt work, or repetitive work. I know I'm on the last rung of the ladder right now and I'll be more than happy to work my way up." His face split into a grin. "I just hope you all won't dock my pay too harshly for my clumsiness."

He often liked to poke fun at himself during these assignments. He found that doing so made him seem less intimidating despite his stature.

Aylin raised one eyebrow in slight amusement. "I'd say a dock in pay would be the last thing you need to worry about here..." She couldn't help but wonder if he really understood what he was getting himself into. Regardless, it was not her concern. People in this business came and went all the time. The guys in the other room were probably right; this one surely wouldn't last too long.

Turning, she raised a hand to flag down one of the workers in the room. "Hey, Maynard! Got a new one for you."

From across the room, the older, dark-haired man gave a nod in return. "Send him over! Got lots of shit to do today."

"Maynard will take care of you from here," Aylin said as she glanced up at Rocinante. It could have been his imagination, but she appeared rather relieved for the opportunity to pawn him off onto somebody else. She continued, "He can be difficult, but as long as you show him you won't take his bullshit, then he'll learn to respect you." She started to walk away, but hesitated and turned back. In a lower voice, she added, "Just a piece of advice... If you don't stand up for yourself here, then you'll be eaten alive real quick." She nodded a short goodbye before turning on her heel and heading back the way she'd come.

Rocinante watched her leave, letting her last message soak in. He knew that already, of course. These people were always like this; ruthless, selfish cretins who were only in it for the money and the cheap thrills, most of them prone to the drink as their only outlet...along with frequent visits to the red light district. But Aylin...she didn't seem like the typical sort of person who would work for this kind of organization. Call it a gut feeling, but Rocinante sensed that there was more to her than just her rough outer demeanor. Or perhaps that was simply wishful thinking on his part. He supposed that only time would tell.

He made his way over to the man Aylin had identified as Maynard, plastering a cheery smile on his face as if he couldn't imagine anything better than smuggling drugs and weapons that would undoubtedly ruin peoples' lives.

"Maynard, I'm Rocinante. It's a pleasure to meet you. Just show me what I need to do!"

The man uttered a grunt in return, staring the blond up and down in a scrutinizing manner. By the look on his face, Rocinante was able to determine that he clearly was not the most pleasant sort of person to be around.

Maynard gestured toward an idle pallet jack. "You know how to use one of those things?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then get to it. Lots of stuff to unload today. Just don't screw anything up. Whatever you break is gonna come out of your pay!"

Rocinante gave him a short nod before sauntering over to the contraption, taking note of the large open bay to the left that allowed for a good view of the cargo ship that the other workers were unloading from. He supposed he would simply fall in line and do whatever they were doing.

He supposed there would be plenty of opportunities to delve deeper into this operation during his downtime. Gaining inside intelligence on the one called Blackburn, the Syndicate's leader, was especially vital to the success of his mission. Once an organization's leader fell, the rest of them were much easier to pick off one by one...and, hopefully, after their time in prison was served they could all be set on a path toward moral high ground.

That was what Rocinante wished for everyone; a safe, happy home. Something to call their own, something to protect. A family. Anything to keep people off the streets and out of the gutters. And if he had to use his connections with the marines as a facilitator of that goal, well, then it was worth it. That said, Rocinante wasn't sure if he would remain among them forever. Despite his ties to the marines and his debt to the man who had rescued him long ago, he had never really felt like he was one hundred percent one of them, nor could he say that he'd been entirely dedicated to their causes. There was undoubtedly a large amount of corruption among their ranks, and Rocinante often found himself following his own set of ideals.

It was a battle between those deemed lawful and those branded criminals; be it pirate or mercenary, the government and those sworn to protect it saw them all through the same dark lens. These two worlds were constantly at war, and both held their own downsides. It was hard to tell where one ended and one began.

Sighing, he bent to pick up the handle of the pallet jack and nearly tripped over his own feet as he steered it toward the bay, not missing the way that Maynard watched him with critical eyes.

Time to go down the rabbit hole.

Notes: Hi, all! Thanks for taking the time to check our work out. We would really appreciate any feedback you could provide; it honestly inspires and encourages us to keep going c: So what are we thinking? Yes, no, maybe? I hope you guys are prepared because this is going to be a long ride. Hahaha. MWAHAHA. -Kade