Objects.

Space.

Time.

Ok, maybe not time-at least not yet-, but it was still a possibility.

Dimensions.

And Sometimes, even atoms.

In all honesty, she could seemingly control these in whichever way she pleased. No showing off. Objects were obviously the easiest to lift, to bring to life, because they were solid and inanimate objects. No other word could describe them except for 'object'. They were very visible and could be moved by regular hands no less, so gaining power over them was definitely easy. Space might be a bit difficult, but still didn't leave her drenched in sweat. She couldn't actually control space, because space was nothing. Space was just there and, technically speaking, could not be moved by one. It can be created by moving one object to another space, but it could not be really made, because it is nothing. So controlling space is hard to the very most, but that's how she moved objects and whatnot. She created something in the eternally empty space with her mind and moved it along whatever surface she wanted to.

Dimensions. These weren't nearly as difficult as atoms, but the separating and controlling actually could make her drop a few beads of sweat, depending on the size of the dimensions. Cutting down an object, breaking it in half, was no easy job. After years of pondering and meditation, she started to think that maybe she wasn't even suppose to be able to break the objects she controlled. That did not by any means mean she wanted to get rid of that portion of her powers. Making an object break in any which way definitely depended entirely on the objects own solidity and weight. Something like a tree, for example, could most likely be smashed with a few moments. A spoon, maybe more than a millisecond, at best. But, something as large as a building or ship, now that would take much concentration and power on her part. Now only is it heavy, but destroying it would take a regular human quite a few minutes. Despite all that, she could still destroy one with just a thought of her mind and a few hand motions that would make people around her think she was strangling an invisible criminal.

Now atoms. This was possibly the hardest possible thing in the universe that was possible for her to possibly control. Possibly. Most of the time, she couldn't even complete the seperating of them. One of the ways she had impecable control over inanimate objects was because she could see them, she could physically touch them. But one cant see atoms through the naked eye, not for it's true form. So how can one gain power over them without knowing what or where exactly it is? They should logically not be able to. But, with the help of whoever upstairs, she was able to. Sometimes, though, as was said before. She needed the absolute most concentration she could conjure up and some. First step. Then she needed to be able to pinpoint which atom(s) she was 'going after', so to say. After that was a blur. Separating atoms, as most people would know, should know, create large explosions. Large being a total understatement, but you get the jest. Nuclear bombs. This fact also played a part in the fight against her being able to control atom's freely. Since nuclear bombs are known to be loud, horrible, and all-destroying for hundreds of miles, she couldn't exactly use it all the time. She technically never did use it, she just felt in her bones that she could if she really wanted to.

But that all brings everything to the current situation. The situation where a girl impatiently sat near the mouth of a large lake. She had been sitting there for at least three hours now, and since, she had never moved a muscle, save for the scowls and less-than-pretty words that flew out of her mouth every once in a while. Her waist-length, thick black hair flew in the wind behind her, ever so often whipping her in the face. She briefly wondered at these moments why she kept it so long in the first place. Soft brown orbs rested in the middle of the lake, her border-line large lips in a complete frown. Most would call the scene beautiful, but that was anything but near what she felt inside. Anger bubbled in her insides as she kept failing and failing at making something, anything move.

Liquid was absolutely the hardest substance to control in the entire universe, she had decided sometime in the first hour of hoping. Staring. Because it wasn't solid, picking it up with her mind was nearly impossible. It kept slipping through her minds telekinetic powers and frustrating her even more. Water, juice, even the thicker tar have so far been unable to be controlled. Because it was ever moving. If you scoped up water in your cupped hands and there was just the smallest of holes, water would escape. Even in drips, it would leave your hands and drop to the ground or whatever else you were on. That's why she had so desperately tried to patch up all the holes in her telekinetic 'aura', so to say.

Here is how her powers worked. It was somewhat like a gas, if one thought about it long enough(which she obviously did), and worked like gas as well. Except for the obvious invisible-and-actually-able-to-carry-solid-objects part. It was like a spirit, roving around always, always swirling around her no matter what. And when she wanted to move an object, it went and did as told. Only she could see it, of course. She thought at first she was going crazy, but when she realized that what she moved with it others could see the change as well, she realized that she had some kind of weird power. Somehow. But the gas- which she named Calibus- couldn't grab water. It was like Calibus reached with fingers wide to hold it, but it always slipped away. So, out in the middle of nowhere, she was trying to perfect it somehow.

"You think she'll give up soon?" Her ears twitched as the small whisper made its way towards her. Annoyance began to creep up but she pushed it away, wanting to focus on her training. She closed her eyes to further her concentration.

"Nah. She was at it for over 10 hours when I was watching her the other day." Another replied. There were about 6, maybe 7 men who always watched her when she went training; or when she went anywhere, for that matter. At first, a couple years back at the age of 17, she begged her father to call the guards off. Not only was it disturbing her friends, it disturbed her to no ends. A handful of grown men watching your every move wasn't exactly a dream come true. But, like every other thing she asked of him, he gave her a hard, cold glare and told her he was 'working'. Which in all actuality wasn't a lie, but maybe if he would just leave his job once in a while to come spend time with her, things would be different...

She shook her head to clear her head of those wishful thinking's. She already spent 10 years of her life begging him to notice her, for anyone to show her some kind of attention, but she never succeeded in doing so. No time in between work, in between sleep, in between just being not there for her. Her anger began rising, she could feel it in her chest. Another deep breath. She blocked out the faint voices and continued.

"Water, can be brought up." She spoke. Her throat felt stiff, strained. "Water can be controlled. What lives and what breathes can be destroyed, therefore water can be destroyed, therefore it can be produced, and therefore it can be controlled. I can control it. I will control it." One of her many therapists, when she was younger, told her that everything is in the mind. You can make yourself believe that, for example, you're amazingly wise when you're actually pretty dull. You can make yourself believe in a lie that isn't on any degree the truth. Since Calibus is technically all in her mind, since it's created by her very thoughts, she could eliminate the patches by just believing it. The only thing wrong with that is the fact that she knows that's not true.

"This is going nowhere." The raven-haired girl growled, a soft sigh of disappointment escaping her lips. Another failed training session. She rose from the ground and dusted her pants off. She didn't show it on the outside, but it ticked her off to no end when she wasted a day of training learning absolutely nothing. She raised her head and glanced around. Then she whistled a small tune. It was something one of her old nurses had taught her, before she had passed away a couple years before then. This purpose of the whistle was created by- who else? - her father, so she could always inform her guards when she was making a major transition in her settings. The girl started to walk alongside the river bed.

"I'm heading back to the house." A small smirk played at her lips. "Come, if you can keep up." She lifted a rock by her side with a flick of her hand. It was about 8 feet in diameter, if she was to estimate, and only 3 feet thick. She jumped onto it's surface and steadied herself. While she did this a lot, the feeling of being lifted of the ground and flying always frightened and fascinated her at the same time. When she was completely still on the rock, she sent it soaring forward with a single thought. It headed straight for her house 3 hours away.

***************YO****************

When she started to near her large home, she took a brief moment to overlook it in it's entirety. The whole house itself took up 8 acres of otherwise-untouched island land. It was pretty modern looking, open windows overlooking the great view the island had to offer, with glass basically being the main component in its structure. It stood 3 stories off the ground, a beige color being the new choice of her fathers architect. She internally cursed that man for his boring taste. The house was conveniently placed right by the vast New World ocean, so boats could come and go with either messages or her father, the latter sadly being less often. She glanced at the docks. They were empty. She shook her head in disappointment and lowered her transportation rock closer to the ground. Surrounding her house was a 50 foot black gate that kept out the animals and whatnot of the island. Yes, they had enough monsters here that they needed a gate of that size to keep them from destroying the house when all inhabitants were elsewhere. It curved around the entire building, joining together in a large entrance in the back. That's where her room was located.

She lowered the rock right onto the ground and braced herself for impact. The sudden jerk almost sent her off the object, had she not had practice with this countless times beforehand. Because of the recent rain, the rock skidded against fresh mud. A grin set on the girls face. She leaned on the rock to make it go to the left ever so slightly, aiming for the door. If she was to guess, she was going 10 miles an hour. She weaved her way through all the countless bushes in her backyard with the help of her telekinesis. Finally, she pushed down hard enough on the rock that it flipped itself over. The girl jumped up and onto the now-close porch with a loud thud.

"And the crowd goes wild! She made it with a perfect score of a million!" She yelled in triumph. She caught the rock before it hit her back door and flung it somewhere else, as if she was throwing flowers out into an audience of roaring fans. She watched it go into the far distance before losing interest and walking into her house. She looked both ways. Empty, as usual. No pets- those never last long on this island, for some reason-, no maids- well, she always gave them the day off when she was going to be out for a long time-, and no father. No that she expected any of them to be there. She slunk her large sweater off her shoulders and tossed on some nearby couch.

The inside décor of the house was simple, yet it was dubbed 'classy and retro' by the architect. If classy and retro meant boring and dull, than the girl making her way to her room just had to agree. Every room was white. Every room was dark blue. So, every room consisted of only two colors, and they just so happened to be the same exact two colors of the marines. Great. When she reached the dark blue door that led to her room, she pushed it open and locked it behind her.

"Hey, Thresha. I thought you left." She spotted a cat in the middle of the room, elegantly grooming its paws with its little pink tongue. She was a beauty, sleek silver pelt with soft blue eyes. The cat only glanced up as a response to her owner.

"I see someone's in a bad mood." The girl further commented. A moment passed by before something that could be categorized as a sigh escaped the small cat's lips. Thresha fully turned her body to look up to the girl.

"Yes, I just so happen to be, AJ. It's normal for people to feel things called emotions." She meowed.

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly what I would call 'people'." The girl, AJ, replied. A small tick mark could be visible on the cats head if one looked hard enough.

"Low blow."

"Low blow but true blow." AJ watched with a small smirk as her feline friend seemingly growled and decided to turn and stalk away to her house, located in the far corner of the room. As she departed to most likely sleep off her nerves, AJ thought about the first time she had found Thresha. She had been playing in the woods one evening, bored out of her mind, when a flash of silver crossed her gaze. Being only about 13, she had been instantly hypnotized. Long story short, she had come home with an annoyed cat and multiple, bleeding scratch marks. The surprise that she could speak came months later. It was even a surprise to Thresha herself!

"Did you make any progress with your water training?" It seemed the cat was more cheerful than usual, she mused. The raven-haired adult sat on her bed and thoughtful stared into the distance.

"No, not yet. I mean, not that I expected to." Thresha stopped her scratching against a pole and glanced at AJ. A look of annoyance graced her features once more.

"Well how do you expect to do anything if you have an attitude like that?" AJ rolled her eyes.

"Oh whatever. It's a lot harder than you think."

"Maybe so, but I do know that you get nowhere if you don't believe you can achieve your goal. You remember what Jasmine said." AJ cringed at the mention of her old nanny. No, she was more than that. Jasmine had been like a mother to her. Maybe a grandma, basing off the age, but still as close as can be. She taught AJ almost everything she knows about common sense and relationship skills.

"Yeah yeah. 'If you don't know it, you can't have it.'"

"Exactly." Thresha gave a flick of her tail. "If you know it so well, why don't you apply it?"

"I do, Thresha. I do. It's just so difficult to control Calibus. It's like it has a mind of its own!" AJ groaned out loud. She slammed her back into her bed and felt like screaming.

"Well, I'm hungry."

"That's nice."

"... Feed me."

"Why should I? You know how to hunt for yourself."

"You and I both know that the only reason I came with you all those years ago was to discontinue that horrendous act people call hunting."

"You were a cat who never knew civilization before we moved here. How on earth did you manage to not like hunting while hunting was a must for you to survive?" She asked. But she didn't really expect an answer. Anything from before she came to live with AJ, Thresha never spoke of. As a reminder of this, the cat changed the subject.

"Whatever. I guess I'll just starve."

"I guess you will."

"You're abusive."

"And you're passive-aggressive."

And that's how the day went for AJ. Nothing at all.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Impatient taps against hard wooden railing was all that was heard throughout the whole ship. A heavy, eerie feeling had set on all the souls of the inhabitants of the large vessel. They dragged their feet, their smiles weren't as bright, and their jokes were only half-hearted. This is what it was like when someone loved and cherished moved on. Dead silence now took over. A pair of eyes scanned over the whole deck and watched the sluggish movements of his brother and sisters. Hurt was all he had felt for the past two days. Losing a brother was always hard to him, always made him want to puke and stay isolated for days when it happened. But he was the first mate of one of the largest crews in the world. Over 1600 younger brothers and sisters looked to him for guidance, right below his Oyaji. So it was natural that he always suppressed his feelings until he was in the safety of his room. He fought back the tears that threatened to fall with a deep breath.

At the moment, they were all heading to a marine's home located near the end of the New World. The 12th division had scrounged up information from a vice-admiral about where the man who had killed their brother was located.

Even thinking about that man made his blood turn cold. He shook his head and reviewed the plan.

The man's home was to be reached any minute now. Once they were there, they would have permission to wreck havoc as much as they pleased. They always got Oyaji's permission to do anything they wanted to in this kind of situation. After totally demolishing the entire house and everything inside, including the man, if he was there, they would leave and the only trace of their presence would be a spray-painted symbol of their jolly roger.

"Oi, Marco." Said man turned and faced the source of the familiar voice. An orange hat came into view first.

"Hey, Ace." He gestured to the empty space next to him and Ace walked up to it. The two were silent for a moment.

"... I miss him." Ace solemnly spoke first. Those word's hit Marco like a sea-stone bullet to the chest. He had known the fallen commander for decades now, and if he was allowed to say, he was close to him. The Phoenix had fought besides him in countless battles and arguments. He watched him grow stronger and more mature, he watched him as he became the feared commander of the a division in his family. When news of his death reached Marco, the first thing he did was deny it. He kept saying that there was no way he could have died. But, after rushing and seeing the body, along with the entire crew, he was proven terribly wrong. It wasn't anything gruesome, but it still made him want to pass out. Marco could recall the stomach-churning feeling, the hurt his heart could never get use to. The first-division commander sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"So do I, yoi." He replied, voice barley a whisper. He promised himself he wouldn't cry. So he didn't. He straightened up and kept his face hard.

"When we find that man, he will wish he was never born. He'll know to never mess with us, with our family, and think he can just get away. When I find him, he's going to be begging on his knee's for our forgiveness. But, he won't get it. What he did is unforgivable. His kids and hell even his freaking pets will feel his pain." Ace stole the words right out of Marco's mouth. He had a fire and anger in his tone that the older man had never heard before. It would usually scare a normal person into running away with their tails in between their legs, but not Marco. It actually made him more determined to get revenge for his fallen brother. He nodded in agreement and glanced down to the other fire-user.

"You better leave some for the rest of us, yoi." He joked. A small smirk tugged on Ace's lips, the first one seen in ages it seemed like. Marco wasn't aware of all the relationships in the crew, but he was 100% sure the two had been close, if all the two playing pranks and generally hanging out was any clue.

"We'll see." And they left it at that. They left it at that because overhead, one of the navigators bursted through the doors to their working area and shouted something that definitely got the place to look more lively.

"We're approaching the island! 10 minutes and it'll be in view!" He hollered. This got all of the Whitebeard piraets head's to perk up, a look that meant business replacing their sorrow. All around Marco, men and women started unseathing swords, cracking their knuckles, and generally getting prepared to beat some serious you-know-what. Marco himself stood tall and glanced around the boat. His eyes landed on two large double doors, which had just been opened. His heart hardened at the sight of his angered captain, his Oyaji. The large man walked on deck and at that moment, all eyes were on him. Silence. The captain did the same as Marco and looked over all his sons and daughters.

"We are here to bring vengeance on my son, your brother, who was killed on false charges from the Navy." He began, basically grounding out the words. "We are here to make them know that they cannot bring harm to my family and expect to be let off the hook so easily." Shouts started erupting from all around the large ship.

"They'll pay!"

"We'll avenge him!"

"He'll never get away with it!"

"So, as such," Whitebeard paused for a moment. "Do whatever you like to this mans household. We won't let him rest knowing what he did to Blamenco! Now lets go get him, my childrean!"

"HAI, OYAJI!"

First chapter completed! Okay, so first thing first, I AM SO SORRY! I am so sorry that I had to kill him off but I needed a reason for them to show on the next chapter... you'll see. I am SO SORRY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME~!

See, I was trying to make it seem like it was Thatch just to give y'all a heartache for DAYS, cause I know I would have had one if I were you.

So, I guess review please? I'll take anything, I consider myself pretty honest about all my short-comings so I will take everything seriously. THANKS! The next chapter'll be out soon :)

Babyyyyeeee :D