Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or claim to own it.
Have you ever had one of those moments where you wonder how you got yourself in a certain situation where you have no other choice but go through with it? A situation with only one solution or you're dead? A situation where you have to question your sanity on more than one occasion? No? Well a certain navigator of a certain Straw Hate pirate crew has. Many times. You can blame the captain for that.
It was like any other day on the Thousand Sunny. The best friend trio, AKA the sharpshooter, doctor, and captain, were up to their regular antics, the swordsman slept soundly in the corner, and the chef doted on the lovely archeologist and navigator. Of course, the archeologist calmly sipped at her tea and flipped the pages of her book as she chose to ignore the chef's overzealous compliments.
As for the navigator, the heroine of our story, she was fixated on the log pose strapped to her wrist. With three needles now dividing her attention, she had to determine which island would be safest to travel towards. In most crews' cases, they would choose to avoid the more dangerous option. But, knowing the Straw Hat pirates and their luck, no matter what their decision, danger always seemed to find them. After all, they did have an entire ship full of wanted criminals (even if one of them was only worth fifty Beli).
However, it was not the task of watching over the needles that had the navigator so focused. No, it was the needles themselves. One in particular had taken on a peculiar pattern the navigator hadn't seen yet in the short time she had become accustomed to the new log pose. It was behaving as if it were throwing a temper tantrum. In fact, it had no real pattern at all. It spastically flung itself left and right, up and down, and jerked to a stop only to start the process all over again.
She stared at it concernedly, not quite sure if this was just a show of how dangerous this certain island was or if the needle had simply just been busted. If it was the former, all they had to do was hide it from their captain and avoid the island all together. If it was the latter, she hoped to find someone who could repair it at one of the safer islands. The more she observed it, the more she leaned towards the first option.
Then, suddenly, of course, as if the device were being possessed, all three needles began to shake wildly, almost ripping themselves free of the poles that held them. And just to add to the creepiness factor, they began to frantically twist and turn in time, syncing to each other's motions.
Cue panic attack courtesy of the Straw Hats' navigator.
The panic is understandable though you see, for if the log pose was leading to such a threatening island, the crew would either endure a very deadly adventure or just wind up dead entirely. But if the log pose were just completely broken and useless, the crew would be stuck in the middle of the most dangerous ocean in the world left to fend off the perilous dangers of Mother Nature and other possible foes (such as the other supernovas and the marines). Or if they lasted long enough, they would die of starvation and dehydration due to being in the middle of the ocean. Naturally this painful process could be prolonged if the captain and chef ever decided to follow up on that old plan to use their doctor as the emergency food supply. But of course the navigator was simply coming up with reasons to panic just to panic at this point.
By the time all these thoughts raced through her mind, her face had become as white as a ghost's, her eyes widened in fear, and beads of sweat formed at her brow, slowly trailing down her face. She began to audibly gasp for breath.
And of course the chef noticed the shift instantly. He became frantic, asking the navigator if she was all right, if she needed help. What's wrong Nami-swan? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you sick? What's riled you up so badly? Nami-swan what's-
Maybe, perhaps, if she looked long enough the needles would go back to normal? Maybe the log pose had a fix-it-itself option the guy had simply forgotten to tell her about. Oh, but if it was broken, she could always use an eternal pose. But then again, they didn't have one of those for the New World. Well, shit.
What's the matter Nami-san? Nami-sis? Eh, are you all right? Nami! Oi, Can you hear me? Robin-chawn, do you-
And that was when things became scary.
Her vision blurred at the edges, sounds became distant and muffled as if she were wearing earplugs made of cotton. She could smell her sweat and felt bile rise to her throat as everything around her became black except for the log pose. It was like she was seeing her arm from another person's perspective. She couldn't move her head no matter how hard she struggled, even her eyes seemed to be glued to the dancing needles. It was almost as if someone were holding her in place.
A faint throbbing began at the back of her head and pulsed its way to the front, wringing out her mind of any capable thought. All she could feel was panic, and fear, and pain. So much pain. Someone was yanking at her hair, ripping entire chunks from her skull and forcefully shoving their hands inside her brain, kneading at it like dough. Punching it, rolling it, slapping it, shaping it…
She felt a shiver travel down her spine, shaking her to her core. A light giggle lingered by her ear and then another behind her. Then abruptly, a wave of childlike giggles crashed over her, engulfing her with the eerie sounds of childish delight. But there weren't any children on the Thousand Sunny aside from the doctor (who wasn't really a child to begin with). There was no reasonable explanation for this. But they were suffocating her, shoving their way into her mouth, her nose, her ears, her head. Her body shook with the strain of her frozen state. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't scream.
Then, just like that, they stopped.
She was released.
It felt like the sun had gone out and the world had become an icy wasteland unable to sustain any form of life. She shook and shivered, her body spasming uncontrollably. Her fingers had become icicles, and her hands had turned into snow. Yet despite all that, she was soaked to the bone in sweat and her face felt like the blazing deserts of Alabasta. The sun made its new home where her brain used to be, frying every last ounce of her ability to think.
She was only just vaguely aware of the voices of her crewmates, shouting, frantic. Footsteps. Stomping. Running. Crashing. Echoes, echoes, echoes.
The last thing she heard was her captain's voice and a faint whisper of a giggle.
Haunting.
Lol so it's been awhile guys. Not much of an excuse other than that i just lost interest and now it's suddenly back? I had a really good map for how this story would play out but...I'm gonna try to finish this guys. I can't make any promises with college, work, life, and all that but I'll try.
I'm trying to rewrite plunge in third person so I have more flexibility with the narrative. I really liked how this came out. Literally re-read the entire thing just last night and rewrote this chapter this morning (at like freaking 3 a.m. I work today too what the heck am I doing?) If you want to know/read more about this story, go ahead and check out Plunge. This is going to follow, roughly, the same story line if not for a few tweaks here and there.
Like always please leave a comment if you noticed any mistakes or have any tips on how to fix OoC-ness (or if you just liked the chapter). Always love to improve on those things. Have a nice day!