So, this is where I'm going to dump all the projects that I've only just started, that might never turn into anything. Almost all of them are OC x someone. Tell me what you think!
Still Standing
Iona had only ever wanted adventures. She didn't quite understand what it would take to get them. Marco x OC
"Did you hear? There are pirates on the island!"
"I heard that the one with the swords killed three hundred men!"
"I heard the one with the hat is a living demon!"
"Tch, as if there haven't been enough of those here already!"
Iona shook her head at the gossip that swirled around her. The old women always got this way whenever something happened on the island. They all, save Mrs. Caul, had very firm opinions on pirates. Those opinions being they were nothing but ruffians and thieves who should be hanged.
Iona didn't particularly care. Pirates were people and people she liked. She liked hearing about their lives and the places they'd been, the people they met and the things they'd seen. Things that she would never see. All she knew was this tiny island, she didn't think she would ever get the chance to leave it.
Iona snipped carefully at Mrs. Mul's hair, shortening it just enough that it would bounce the way that she liked. Mrs. Mul was picky, she would never let anyone except Iona's mother cut her hair, and then Iona herself. Dominique and Terry were out of luck.
The women, who had been coming to the salon for as long as Iona had been alive, kept on chatting about their new 'guests' on Marina Islands. Iona finished up with Mrs. Mul before she cleaned up quickly, listening with one ear. She wanted to get a look at the ship before they were gone.
"I'm going to lunch," she announced, running off before Terry could object. The older woman rolled her eyes fondly, but let her go. Everyone knew Iona wanted to leave. She wasn't exactly quiet about it.
She ran down the street, legs stretching beneath her. With a flash of silver light she launched herself up, over the high buildings that took up the city of Mercado. It was a maze of tall buildings packed together, most joined either by a bridge of a couple of feet or a single door. For a city that boasted no more than a few thousand it seemed, to a girl who had never been anywhere else, an endless labyrinth of dead ends and single person streets.
Iona's fingers brushed the shingles above Mr. Torina's flower shop before she dropped to the ground, right in front of Mrs. Lepson and her cat, Tilly, and her daughter, Milly, who was on a leash. Tilly yowelled and swiped at Iona's still-glowing leg. She took no offense, her pants taking the brunt of it.
"Morning Mrs. Lepson, morning Mill, Till," she waved at them cheerfully.
"Iona! Where are you going in such a hurry?" Mrs. Lepson pulled Milly's leash, forcing the troublesome six year old back to her side. The cat was much more well behaved.
"Haven't you heard? There's pirates at the docks!"
"And you're going to see the ship," Mrs. Lepson nodded, smiling a bit at her. "Well get going then, while the lights good. Tell your mother I wish her well."
"I will," Iona promised, before she ran past them, now on a straight path for the shore of Marina. She passed the faces she had known all her life, greeting some fondly. She knew everyone on the island. She knew their parents, she knew their kids, their cousins. She knew which neighbors agreed with each other and which spent most of their time fighting. She knew the ins and outs of every relationship that had happened for the last ten years.
She knew everything about everyone, and they, in turn, knew everything about her.
Iona finally cleared the last of the tall buildings, breaking out of the shadows and into the bright light of the day. For just an instant she was blinded by the light shining off the waves of the sea. It sparkled in her vision, waves winking brightly.
Iona stumbled and bumped into another person.
"Sorry," she smiled at them, her eyes still dazzled. All she could really make out was the purple of his shirt and the blue tattoo underneath it.
"No problem," the person, a man, passed her by, going towards the town. She didn't know his voice. A stranger!
Iona squinted into the sun, her breath catching when she could finally see. The ship was massive. She had never seen a boat so big, with three huge sails towering above a deck that could easily hold their entire town. Instead of a regular figurehead the whole front the ship looked like that face of a great whale. A black flag floated dutifully atop the middle mast.
Her eyes glowed softly and the parts of the ship that were too far to see normally abruptly became clearer. The flat had a white cross made of bones, and skull with a crescent moon over the top teeth. The desk was full of people running around, tying ropes and trading coins.
She blinked and the picture zoomed back out. There were more people on that crew than there were on Marina Island!
Iona was giddy. Who knew what stories she could bring back to her mother!
The girl took off to the dock, scrambling down the stairs that lead to the pier. Mr. Fawks, the harbormaster, was standing beside his shanty, watching the countless men and women march off the massive ship. He was incredibly pale.
"Hello, Mr. Fawks," Iona chirped, bouncing to a stop next to him.
He glanced at her, and smiled. Mr. Fawks was an aging gentleman, who's position as harbormaster was less one to keep the peace and more one to holler when someone was docking too close to another persons boat. Their little island didn't see much action, especially considering that it was in the Grand Line. They lived in a tiny bubble of boring.
"Hello, 'Liza. Are you here to see the ship?" as if he didn't already know the answer.
"Mmmm, I'm going to go to Beth's later," she nodded at him. "After I check on Mama. Is Doctor Pat back?"
Some of his smile fell away.
"Not yet. Sorry, little 'Liza," he shook his head.
"It's okay," she patted his arm and smiled back. She wasn't going to worry him. No one else needed to be worried about her Mama but her.
Iona watched a ship with Mr. Fawks for a good half hour more before she finally left, making her way back home. Some of her energy was gone now, so she wasn't jumping roof tops again or making a fuss. She walked the long road that wound through town until she had come out the other side, where the woods were. The Wood stretched all the way across the island, and her house sat right at the edge of it. Her uncle had bought the little house for her parents long before she had been born. He had been a man of gold, her Mama said. As good as his name, he would do anything for family.
Iona had never met him, or even her aunt. They, and her father, had died some time after she was born. She didn't remember them at all.
Iona hopped across the white stones that lead to the front door, shoes scuffing softly on the well worn rock. She patted Polka, their fat spotted cat, on her way in the door. She was quiet when she walked in, slipping off her shoes and going to the first bedroom.
Iona poked her head inside, looking at the still figure on the bed. The part of her that was always terrified of coming home to no one abated and she was able to breathe easier. Iona walked in, shutting the door quietly, and went to sit at the older woman's bedside.
Calico D. Roxie had once been a firecracker, but sickness had stolen her fire. Now she spent most of her days sleeping or reading while her once bright face withered away. Her hair had gone grey, her cheeks had shrunk in and her eyes sometimes looked right through Iona.
The young woman touched her Mama's hand and the silver glow spread from her to the elder Calico woman. Dark brown eyes opened to look at Iona and smile lifted her face. Roxie sat up, grabbed her daughter's hand in hers. Even with Iona giving her strength she was still weak. Weaker than she had been before she'd gotten sick.
Iona shoved the thoughts out of her head, violently.
"Hi, Mama," she said softly. Roxie touched her cheek and smiled.
"Do you have any stories for me tonight, little dove?" she brushed a few strands of Iona's hair back from where it had fallen out of her fishtail. Her fingers had gotten so thin.
"Not yet," she squeezed the woman's hand in her own, careful. "A ship came in today though, it's so big Mama! I'm going to Beth's later to see if I can find any good stories for you."
"When are you doing to go find your own adventures to tell me about, instead of bringing back other peoples?"
Iona looked away before she offered Roxie a weak smile.
"I'll go when you get better."
Roxie shook her head. "You can't be waiting about for me forever, little dove. Go to Baterilla and find your cousin, or get a ship and the world for yourself. You can't lie and say you don't want to."
"I can't just leave you here! Who would take care of you," she objected. She closed her eyes against the sting of them.
"A daughter shouldn't have to take care of her mother. It should be the other way around."
"I don't mind," Iona could barely hear her own voice. Her heart ached.
"I mind," Roxie pulled her hand away abruptly. Iona was so surprised she dropped the glow. "Go, go to Beth's. Find some stories."
The energy left her quickly. Iona tried to reach for her again but Roxie flipped her hand at her, dismissing her daughter and rolling on her side, away from the girl. Iona frowned at her back. She hesitated for a long minute before she finally left her Mama's room and went to get changed.
Maybe a few stories would take her mind away.