Sooooo I have had a lot of time on my hands, and my sister thought I should put this up. I have another One Piece OC story, but I might post that one later, especially once I have more written to it.
Anyways, the reason why I'm posting this is because I went and saw the Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug yesterday at midnight, and it's currently ruined my sleeping schedule. Hence this chapter. And you guys better review (I'm looking at you Skitzykat101!).
Anyways, enjoy!
Pirate Tails
by D3athrav3n92
Prologue
I heard the cawing of seagulls and the slosh of a large body of water.
Hesitantly, I opened my eyes, squinting as sunlight nearly burned my eyes out. All I could see though were seagulls and blue.
'What the…?' I pushed myself upright, frowning at the large body of water that surrounded me. That couldn't be right. As far as I knew, I was…I was…
Hmm. I couldn't remember where I was last, or what I was doing. I looked down to stare at my hands. There were long white scars running from the thumbs of my hands to my wrists, and I frowned. I couldn't remember where I got these…and what's worse, they looked new, like they just recently healed over.
Well crap. What the hell was I doing here? Or even better, how was I going to get out?
I straightened, and searched around the small rowboat in hopes of finding something that would keep me alive for the next several days. Instead of a ticket voucher for a free buffet or something, I spotted a bag underneath one of the seats.
It wasn't very big, only about the size of my head. I opened it, and saw a little bit of food for a week, as well as some wrinkled clothes, as if they were hastily thrown in.
I sat back, settling the bag at my feet. Something wasn't right.
I rolled my eyes at myself. No duh something wasn't right! I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a small bag of food and no memory. Things couldn't get much worse right now.
Grimacing, I reached up to scratch the back of my head with my tail, trying to remember what the hell had happened to me. Something sticky landed on the tip of my tail, and frowned, reaching back to pull the extra appendage in front of me. The tip was crimson, bathed in blood that most likely came from my head.
Okay, stuck in the middle of nowhere with a little bit of food, no memory, and a bleeding head. This day was getting better and better.
Hopefully, I'd run into someone before I ran out of food. Or even better, I'd run into someone before I died.
I leaned back, and closed my eyes again.
There was nothing else to do but wait.
A hand fell, and I felt myself scrambling to grab the hand, the panic of not being able to get a proper grip on it increasing as the hand dangled back, a trail of bright crimson snaking down the hand to drip onto my face-
I jerked awake, my chest heaving as I stared up at the starry sky. The moon was making a glow on the waves, and the stars glimmered at me, winking and twinkling up in the dark sky. I slumped back into my seat as I panted, confused and slightly frightened.
What the hell was that? Was it a nightmare? A memory? Or both? I fought back a shiver, huddling further down into the small rowboat. Shit, it was freezing! Who knew the ocean got so cold in the middle of the summer? It was bloody cold, and-My eyes widened, and I paused, mid-thought as the memory surged through my mind.
…A trail of bright crimson snaking down the hand to drip onto my face…
I reached up and felt my face with trembling fingers.
Something crumbled under my touch, and I pulled away to see dried blood again.
I swallowed hard. Something had happened, and I couldn't remember a single bit of it…other than the fact that it was something serious. And it wasn't just a nightmare, either. It had happened, it really happened, and I was staring at the proof of it.
I looked around. Nothing in sight, just endless water and skies. There was nothing else to do other than pray that I'd survive this little voyage to be able to find out more about what happened.
It'd been two months. My rations ran out after a month, and I spent every waking day trying to ignore my shrinking stomach and fighting extreme boredom. I was going crazy it was so boring.
I spent a day coming up with outrageous names, to replace the one I could no longer remember. Eventually, I settled on Hazel, from the hazelnut shells on the bottom of my little boat. It was simple and (I hope) normal enough to pass as a name. Plus, it sounded good, it sounded like it fit.
The next day was spent singing every single song that I remembered, which was surprising considering the number of songs I belted at the top of my lungs. I managed to scare away the seagulls that occasionally landed on my little boat.
The day after that consisted of coming up with silly stories about my past. In one, I was a kick-ass princess, slaying baddies and saving princes. In another, I was a secret agent, spying on an evil warlord and kicking ass. A lot of these fantasies involved me kicking ass and earning a lot of food and money in the process.
And every day after that, I was sprawled out, alternating between sleeping and putting my mind off food. Almost constantly, my mind was on food, or my impending doom. I could see my stomach shrinking more and more with each passing day, and most times, there was the fear that I was going to die out here, alone and without another chance to see anything other than the vast ocean. It pressed on me, the despair and hopelessness rising with every new day, and every day that passed without seeing a single ship or landmass.
Soon enough, my mind was in a haze of muddled confusion as I stared blankly at the seagulls wheeling above my little rowboat.
I wonder if seagulls were any good…
"Hey, there's someone in the boat!"
"Owner, come take a look!"
"…Get her inside. Sanji, get some light broth ready for her, will you?"
"Of course."
"What the-! She's got a tail!"
"What the hell? What kind of person has a tail?"
"Forget that! Owner, what should we do with her?"
"We're going to feed her, of course."
"You shitty cook, she'd probably die with your food-"
"Stop arguing, boys, and get back to work! We have customers to serve!"
"Aye, Owner."
Something smelled good. I mean, really good.
I opened my eyes, and stared blankly at the ceiling in front of before realization sank in.
"Huh. Heaven smells like grilled salmon," I muttered thoughtfully, blinking. Then I wrinkled my nose. "Wait, what kind of heaven smells like grilled salmon?!" Except the smell made my mouth drool like a waterfall. "Mmm…salmon…"
There was a chuckle to my right. "Of course it smell like salmon. We're on a floating restaurant. And who says heaven can't smell like grilled fish?" My head whipped around and I caught a glimpse of a man with a big blond beard and hair before dizziness settled in. I swallowed, feeling the urge to throw up, but there was nothing in my stomach to come up in the first place.
"Take it easy," the man told me sternly, crossing his arms. "You've been starved, so rest until you get your strength back."
I nodded, and I tried to push myself up so I could lean against the pillows, but my arms shook so much with the exertion that they eventually gave out, sending me collapsing back into the bed. "Oomph!" I lay there for a minute, enjoying the super soft feeling of the blankets, before trying again.
"Here, lemme help you," said the man gruffly, and I grimaced weakly, allowing him to pull me into a sitting position. He looked at me with a slight frown, and I looked away in embarrassment.
"Sorry," I mumbled, and the man's frown deepened.
"Brat, don't worry about it. I've been starved before, so I know exactly what you're going through," he said sternly, and my eyes widened, before peeking a glance at his small potbelly. It was a bit hard to imagine, but from the glare on his rough face, I figured that it could've been possible.
"Oh," I mumbled, looking down. That's when I noticed his leg. I gasped softly, and the man followed my line of gaze to his own leg before letting out a deep chuckle.
"I know, awful, isn't it?" he asked proudly, shaking said leg. It was gone, with just a peg of wood to replace it. "I had to eat it, because I wasn't the only one starving."
I blanched at the thought of eating a part of myself, and he studied me before letting out a throaty chuckle. "So, brat, what's your name?" he asked, and I tore my eyes away from the leg to shrug, my mind still coming up with horrific images of me eating myself.
"Hazel," I said distractedly, and he grinned widely.
"Like the nuts?" he asked, and I nodded. He snorted, and I found myself scowling. What was wrong with Hazel? "Funny. Here we are, on the only floating restaurant in the five oceans, and we pick up a girl named after a type of nut." I flushed in embarrassment. There was nothing wrong with the name Hazel!
He slowly stopped laughing, and studied me. "How old are you, kid?"
I shrugged. "Eleven? Ten? I don't remember."
His gaze sharpened. "Don't remember?" he repeated, and I nodded, feeling mostly confident about my answer. I don't remember being any older than eleven. "Hmm…what about your hometown? Family? Favorite food?" At each question, I shook my head no, feeling more and more confused. "That's a bit of a problem, ain't it?" he asked, stroking his beard. "So you don't know how you got those scars or how you have a tail, do you?" he asked, and I frowned.
"What d'you mean, 'how I have a tail'?" I parroted indignantly. "I was born with it!"
"You didn't eat a strange fruit?" I paused, before looking at the man in confusion.
"What do fruit have to do with this?" I asked in confusion, and the man eyed me for a moment before nodding.
"Very well. Do you have anywhere to go?" I shook my head again, and he slumped back into his chair, running a hand over his face.
"This is the last time I pick up strays," he muttered to himself, but my ears picked it up. "Fine. You can stay here, earn your keep. You can be the dishwasher girl once you get your strength up."
"Yessir," I replied automatically, cheerfully. Then I paused. "Wait, do I get paid?"
"No." At the blunt refusal, I wilted. "But you will get free food and board."
I grinned brightly. "Yes!"
At that moment, the door opened, and another blond stuck his head in. He had his hair covering one of his blue eyes, a tiny bit of stubble on his chin, and a curly eyebrow that kept drawing my attention. There was also a cigarette stuck in between his teeth, smoldering faintly. "Ah, you're awake!" he said, pushing the door open all the way with his foot. His hands were holding a small tray with a steaming bowl.
"Sanji," said the man, standing with a grunt, "you take care of her. I need to run the business."
Sanji scowled at the man. "Fine," he snapped, and the man nodded, stumping over to the door. He paused, however, at the entrance before he glanced back at me.
"Glad to have you aboard, brat," he said, smirking at me. "The name's Zeff. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask one of the workers around here." And with that, he stepped out, shutting the door behind him.
Sanji sighed. "Shitty old man," he growled, before turning to me, his face lighting up almost immediately. "I'm Sanji! I'm the assistant head chef here, so if you ever need anything, don't be afraid to find me, even if it's something small!" He said this all very enthusiastically, and I found myself wondering if he had mood swings, or just a weird personality.
I bobbed my head shyly. "Thank you," I mumbled, and he beamed.
"It's no problem! Now, we'll have to take things easy here, because your body won't be able to handle much more than broth," he told me, pushing the chair Zeff was sitting in over to the bed with his foot before taking a seat and balancing the tray on his lap. He took a spoonful of broth, and obediently, I opened my mouth, allowing him to feed me.
I was really embarrassing, not being able to feed myself (my arms were too weak for that), but the feeling was forgotten when I tasted the rich flavor of the broth.
"How is it?" Sanji asked as I swallowed, and I felt tears spring in my eyes.
"It's amazing," I whispered.
Sanji grinned. "I can imagine. After being starved, everything tastes great."
It sounded like he was speaking from personal experience. Was he the one with Zeff when he ate his leg? I found myself cringing a little at the morbid thought. Ewwwww!
"Everything okay, miss?" Sanji asked me, pausing in the middle of feeding me another spoonful, and I hastily shook my head.
"Ah, yeah, it's great," I answered, and he nodded, grinning and returning to the bowl.
Sanji continued to feed me, and once he was finished, I said gratefully, "Thank you."
"It's no problem at all!" he said, beaming. "It's honor to help a little lady such as yourself, miss…" My cheeks flushed.
"Hazel," I replied, and his smile grew wider, almost splitting his face in half.
"That's a pretty name," he commented, and my blush deepened. "Well, Hazel-chan, I'll let you get some rest. I'll be back in an hour or so to check on you, okay?" I nodded, and he stepped out of the room, the door clicking softly behind him.
I sank down into the sheets of the bed, feeling pleasantly full for the first time in days.
Tears streamed down my face as I gripped the sheets weakly. "I'm alive," I whispered, realization and relief sinking in. "I'm alive! Oh hell, I'm freaking alive!"
I grinned wildly through the tears, slowly drifting off to sleep.
Sanji quietly opened the door an hour later, peering in to see if there were any problems with Hazel. She was a pretty little brunette, and he knew that she was going to be a total knock-out when she got older.
He couldn't wait.
He noticed that she was asleep, and smiling, he went to close the door again, when something caught his attention. He stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind him, and crept over to the bed.
Tear tracks ran down her thin and sunburned face, but she had a massive smile plastered across her lips. Sanji smiled too, reaching forward to brush the tears away. He remembered doing the same thing when he realized that he was still alive, back when he was a kid.
He tucked the blankets around her, before leaving the room and smiling.
She was in good hands now.
Just so y'all know, this is going to be a NON-ROMANCE NAKAMA-SHIP STORY. There might be crushes (because she's thirteen - well, eleven in this chapter!), but there's not going to be any romance. The only character that's even close to her age is Chopper, and I'm not into that sort of junk. So deal with it. There'll be fluff, there'll be good morals, but no romance.
