Second chapter, and the beginnings of the crew as a whole.
Stuff: None. Aw.
...
The wind blew over the open plains of Antemar Island. A solitary figure perked up, adjusting his sunglasses as he stared out over the ocean. "So, the winds are changing once again. I wonder what they'll send my way…" he mused idly. After a moment of inhaling the sea breeze, a relaxed smile appeared on his face.
"Listen to me, getting so sentimental. I guess you really did rub off on me, Pop." He chuckled to himself, smoothing the creases out of his clothes and looking down at the worn-out book beside him. He flexed his hands, coloured lights dancing between his fingers.
"Time to spread the good word."
OoOoO
"Oi, Nietzche, are we there yet?"
The blond's eye twitched. "As I told you five minutes ago, as well as five minutes before that, we are fighting the current to get there. It's going to take a while."
Jace nodded thoughtfully, his back turned to the front of the ship. He glanced up at the filled sail before turning back to his navigator. "So are we there yet?"
Nietzche tensed, breathing deeply through his nose. "No. No we are not."
"Huh," Jace grunted. "So where are we going, anyway?"
"If I've got our position correct, then we're headed to a place called Antemar Island. It's supposed to be a pretty big fishing port," Nietzche reported. "I'm sure we'll be able to find some supplies there, and hopefully a proper medic to deal with your wounds."
"What're you talking about? I'm fine!" Jace argued, gesturing at the bloody cloth wrapped around his torso. They'd had to cannibalise parts of his captain's coat to stem the blood flow. "I've already got most of the bullets out!"
"…We need a doctor, captain."
"Alright, alright. Maybe we can find one on the island?"
"We can but hope." Nietzche sighed.
"…So," Jace beamed. "Are we there yet?"
OoOoO
Jace pouted as they pulled into the docks, rubbing the bump on the back of his skull. He glared at his crewmate as Nietzche hopped onto the pier with a rope in hand. "You didn't have to hit me…"
"I disagree. In any case, I'm sure a big enough town like this will have plenty of supplies." The suit-clad teenager murmured, almost to himself.
"Nietzche-" Jace began, before getting interrupted by the blond's continued monologue.
"I mean, we'll have to find something to barter with, but with my brains and your muscle, we'll find something."
"Yeah, but-" Jace was definitely frowning now, looking around in confusion.
Nietzche finished tying off their 'ship' with a satisfied grunt. "There we go. Come on, we'd best ask where we can find a doctor before you try and dig out the rest of the bullets."
"Nietzche!" the captain barked, jumping to his feet. "Where're the boats?"
"… What?"
Jace gestured to the completely empty port. "This' supposed to be a fishing port, but there's no-one here. Shouldn't there be someone hanging around the docks?"
Nietzche blinked, following Jace's arms to see the harbour- completely abandoned. "That's… disconcerting," he admitted, squinting as he looked at the town beyond. "It looks like the village is quite busy, in any case."
"I wonder where all the boats are… could they be keeping them underwater?" Jace mused. "No, then they'd be submarines…"
"Come on. Hopefully, we'll be able to get some information in the town itself."
OoOoO
The duo strolled through the town, Nietzche frowning at the surprised and terrified looks they were getting. As he opened his mouth to ask, he glanced at his captain; seven feet tall, covered in blood, with a sword almost the size of a man strapped to his back. Of course.
"Excuse me," he began, approaching a young woman with as much charm as he could muster. "Could you kindly-"
"We don't want any trouble, just please leave us alone." She begged, rushing away before Nietzche could stop her.
"Wow. You are bad at this." Jace observed, blunt as ever.
"That wasn't my fault! There's obviously something going on here," Nietzche hissed back. "And I didn't see you do any better."
Jace held up a finger to silence his navigator, inhaling deeply. "HEY! I WANNA KNOW WHERE THE DOCTOR IS!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the streets and freezing the crowds in their tracks. As he gazed expectantly around, a few shaky hands pointed to a tall, thin building visible even from several streets away.
Jace grinned. "Thanks! Come on, Nietzche!"
"…that proves nothing, I hope you know that." The blond groused, hopping onto the rooftops to follow Jace as the latter barrelled through the alleyways, civilians leaping away from the human equivalent of a freight train.
"Huh? What d'you mean?" the taller man asked, looking confused as his crewmate dropped back down to street level.
Nietzche shook his head and sighed, rapping on the door of the doctor's office. "Never mind. Just let me explain things. You have a bad habit of downplaying the severity of bullet wounds."
The door opened a fraction, revealing a middle-aged woman with grey streaks in her hair. "I don't have any more to give you."
"Ahem. Madam, I think you have us confused for someone else. We are travellers, and we find ourselves in need of medical attention. May we come in?"
"Well… alright, but be quick about it," She muttered, opening the door fully and ushering them inside. "The examination room on the left, please. I haven't cleared up the one on the right yet." She directed them, wringing her hands.
"Ahh, feels good to lie down on something other than a floor for once…" Jace sighed, relaxing as he threw himself on the padded table.
"Are those… bullet wounds?" the doctor breathed in shock as she unravelled the bandages.
"We found ourselves in the crossfire of a marine raid," Nietzche explained. "Just our bad luck that the island we landed on was a notorious pirate hideout. All things considered, we could have been much worse off."
"Right, well… I believe I can treat your injuries properly, but… I can't afford to give up so much of my supplies for nothing. I'm assuming you can pay for the treatment?"
Nietzche froze up. "Well…" he began, trying to stall.
"Of course we can!" Jace interrupted, looking offended at the insinuation. "What kind of people do you take us for?"
"My apologies, sir. I'll get started right away."
Nietzche exhaled in relief. His captain must have had some money stored away in his pockets prior to the arrest. His own wallet had been taken –and he was going to have to rectify that loss of available funds as soon as possible – and he'd resigned himself to having to steal and gamble his way back to a reasonable standard of living.
"Good to hear," Jace smiled. "Nietzche, pay the doctor."
What.
"Captain, what are you talking about? Don't you have any money?"
"No, I spent all my cash getting to Dusk Island! Where's your money?"
"With the damned marines, probably somewhere on the bottom of the ocean by now!" Nietzche snapped, before wincing as he realised that the doctor was still in the room.
"Get out! I can't afford to treat pirates for free, get out!" she exploded, somehow finidng the strength to push both men out of the room, forcing them out of the building.
"Oi! Aren't doctors supposed to treat people? It's literally what you do for a living!" Jace accused, as the woman's hair fell in front of her face.
"Exactly! I need to make a living! If you're not going to pay, then I suggest you see the freak who lives out by the cliffs!" the doctor accused, pointing angrily at the both of them.
"Well maybe I will!" Jace yelled back. "Come on, Nietzche!"
"Wha-Wait! I wasn't serious! He's a monster!"
"You've changed your tune very quickly," Nietzche observed. "What exactly do you mean by 'monster'?"
"It doesn't matter, just stay away from him! He's dangerous, just like-" The doctor took a shuddering breath, visibly restraining herself from saying anything else. "Please, just trust me."
"How're we supposed to avoid him if we don't even know what he looks like?" Jace asked, in a surprising burst of logic.
"Well, alright… he's fairly easy to recognise. He tries to disguise himself, dresses like a priest, or a pilgrim. But he can't hide the tips of his horns, or his evil power over light and illusions. He's a devil, trying to pretend he's a man!" She told them, sounding increasingly hysterical as she spoke, abruptly slamming the door as she finished.
"…Informative. Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Captain?" Nietzche smirked. 'He must be a Devil Fruit user; with this island being so out of the way from major pirating routes, they could go their whole lives without ever learning about the fruits-'
"That guy sounds awesome!" Jace beamed. "I want to see what he can do! Let's go!" Without waiting for a response, the boisterous captain strode away, heading into town.
"Wait! Captain, let's at least find out where he is first!"
OoOoO
"So, there's nothing more you can tell me about him?" Nietzche asked the bartender. The older man shrugged apologetically, wiping down the bar.
"Honestly, we just try to avoid him when we can. You boys should just leave and head to the next island over. You'd probably find a decent doctor over on Dendoro island; it's only a few days' journey. A week at most."
"I'd rather we get some proper treatment before things get any worse. So you said he lives out towards the north?"
"Just head west around the coast and you'll see it. Don't bother going straight across the fields or you could miss him – he always takes that path whenever he comes into town," the bartender sighed. "But for the record, I warned you about this, alright?"
"Noted. Thank you…" Nietzche trailed off, waiting for the man to finally give his name.
"It's Davydd. Good luck, brat."
Inwardly grumbling about his new nickname, Nietzche nonetheless nodded respectfully as he left. 'So, no-one seems to know anything much about this guy, aside from where he lives. Apparently, he calls himself a 'healer' and talks about some kind of 'Kahana' or something. I really doubt they're right about it being a god of darkness, though…"
He blinked as he approached the bench where Jace was sat, looking out at the ground with a contemplative expression. "Captain, we have our heading," Nietzche announced. "Apparently, the healer lives somewhere to the north, on top of one of the cliffs. Supposedly, he comes down that way every day to talk to people in the village."
"Huh. D'you mean that guy?" Jace replied, jerking his thumb at a man stood in the centre of the town square, loudly addressing the crowds even as they walked away.
The speaker was a lightly tanned man, dressed in a simple cloth tunic and pants, with a pair of sunglasses concealing his eyes and a neatly trimmed goatee and moustache. His head was surrounded by an impressive afro, which along with his wiry frame, made him look taller than he really was, standing at almost six feet. He waved a hand to punctuate his speech as the pirate duo listened in.
"…the great Kahuna teach us to seek enlightenment in our everyday lives. They invite us to find the beauty and the truth in all things!" he spoke in a smooth voice, managing to sound calm despite his volume. "And- ah?" he cut himself off as a child tripped in front of him, bursting into tears and clutching her leg.
"Overdramatic, isn't she?" Nietzche rolled his eyes. "Even if she wasn't obviously fine, that is some terrible acting."
"That poor girl! Why isn't anyone helping her?" Jace boomed, standing up in one sudden movement.
"Oh God…" the navigator facepalmed. He blinked as the preacher dashed through the crowd, most of the villagers stopping short as he passed.
"Excuse me, I'm a doctor!" he apologised, kneeling down next to the girl and holding out his hands. "Don't worry, I'm here to help," he told her, smiling politely. "Just tell me where it hurts, and I can-"
"I got it!" chirped another voice, as a young boy held up a wallet. The girl instantly stopped crying, jumping after her friend as the preacher could only stare in shock.
"Billy!" came a shrill cry. A middle-aged woman strode out, slapping the wallet out of her son's hand. "What have I told you? Don't act like such a brat, he's dangerous! Just come on, and stay away from him!" she screeched, dragging both children away by their collars.
"It's nothing to worry about, ma'am," the preacher assured her, opening the leather to show the empty interior. "I don't have anything for them to steal, anyway."
"You stay away from us! You're dangerous, just like any other demon!" she cried, hiding the children behind her. "Why don't you just leave us alone?" she demanded, before rushing off into the crowd.
"Wow." Came the eloquent commentary from Jace as he watched, his face blank.
"It's unfortunate, but really none of our business, Captain. Far better that we not get involved." Nietzche interjected, frowning. That kind of hostility was unusual, even against Devil Fruit users. There was obviously more to the situation than they'd been told-
"Wait up!" Jace called as the preacher made to leave, looking deflated. The captain ducked around his first mate with surprising agility and coming to a halt in front of the surprised-looking healer. "We've been looking for you!" he beamed, back to his usual self in an instant.
"Oh? My apologies, sir, I'm not used to people seeking me out. How can I…. help… you…" the afro-haired man trailed off, taking in Jace's blood-spattered appearance. "I see. I don't have many supplies with me, so would you please follow me to my home? I'll be able to treat your wounds there."
"Sure thing! Oi, Nietzche, come on! Weren't you the one worried about us not finding the doctor?" the captain smirked, patting the teen on the back and sending him stumbling to the ground.
"There will be a reckoning, Captain. I swear it."
OoOoO
The trio climbed the rough stone steps in silence, the preacher leading the way, Jace following along close behind, with Nietzche at the back. The blond tightened the knot on his bandana, mentally taking in as much information about their new companion as he could.
'His clothing is basic but sturdy, nothing special, but it's old – definitely patched up a few times. No weapons, but with a Devil Fruit, that doesn't necessarily mean he's unarmed. He's not aggressive, though, not even in his body language. I doubt he's that good at acting, so he's genuinely willing to help us…"
Jace cleared his throat loudly, the newcomer glancing over his shoulder as the brute of a man spoke. "I just thought of something. We never properly introduced ourselves. I'm Captain Rask Jace, and this is my navigator, Nietzche."
"Honoured to meet you. My name is Dee-Bop. A pleasure." The man nodded, smiling politely at them as they arrived at the top of the stairs.
"Dee-Bop? Really?" Nietzche deadpanned. "If you're going to lie, at least give a proper name."
"Don't be rude!" Jace scolded. "And can you really afford to talk about stupid names?"
"Nietzche is a perfectly fine name!" the navigator shot back. Jace simply glared impassively down at him. "… Fine. My apologies… Dee-Bop."
"It's quite alright," the preacher smiled back, before pointing at a stone cube about a hundred metres away. "In any case, we've reached our destination. Welcome to the Temple of the Great Kahuna." He entered the thatch-rooved building, about the size of a cottage, gesturing for them to follow him inside.
The two pirates walked into a bare-looking hall, with a simple altar sat at the far end. Dee-Bop picked up a small leather case from the altar as Jace sat down on a wooden bench. "I have everything we need in here, Captain Rask. If I may look at the wounds themselves?"
As the medic unravelled the bandages around Jace's torso, he frowned deeply, looking over the red wounds and past them to the faded scars. "What have you been doing to yourself?" he murmured, almost to himself.
"Hey, I'm a pirate, it's practically in the job description." Jace shrugged, ignoring Nietzche's exasperated look.
"A pirate?" The medic asked, swiftly and deftly grabbing a bottle of antiseptic, dabbing it onto the fresher injuries.
"Yep! I'm going to become Pirate King, and have my name remembered forever!" Jace beamed. "To know that the whole world knows my name… that's my dream." Dee-Bop blinked, before returning to Jace's wounds with a half-smile.
"A fitting ideal for a captain, no?" Nietzche commented. "You've got this well in hand, Rask. I'll head back to town and see if I can get us some supplies. From what I can tell, our next stop is more than a week away, and that would be in a proper ship."
"Alright, then. Good luck!" Jace agreed brightly, before pausing. "Be careful, Nietzche. I get the feeling something bad's gonna happen."
"Of course, Captain. Doesn't it always?" Nietzche snarked, vanishing through the open door in a blur of Soru.
OoOoO
The navigator slowed to a more normal pace as he re-entered the sole civilisation of Antemar Island. If he was going to learn the truth about what was happening on the island, it would be far better not to draw too much attention to himself.
His nose wrinkled as he turned towards the port. 'Is that… smoke?' he wondered, frowning as he saw a dark cloud rising from the docks. His eyes widened in realisation as he noted exactly where the smoke was coming from.
"Damn!" he hissed to himself, striding back towards the tavern in the centre of the town. One way or another, he was going to get a straight answer. Especially now that someone had had the sheer stupidity to burn his boat.
OoOoO
"I see…" Dee-Bop murmured, adjusting his glasses. "The bullet's still embedded in the wound. That'll need to be the first thing I deal with, then."
"Alright, if you say so." Jace shrugged, perking up as coloured lights flickered in the medic's right hand.
"Rainbow-Rainbow Pincer!" Dee-Bop declared, the lights reshaping themselves to form a thin set of tweezers, reaching in to pluck out the battered bullet from the wound.
"Holy crap, how'd you do that?" the pirate burst out, a look of awe on his face.
Dee-Bop smiled widely. "Nothing is impossible for a man of faith," He stated seriously, with a rainbow-patterned circle hovering over his palm. "…But to tell the truth, I ate a Devil Fruit. The Rainbow-Rainbow Fruit, to be precise. I've become a Rainbow Man."
"That's awesome!" Jace grinned widely. "I bet you can seriously kick ass with that!"
"I'm sorry to let you down," the medic frowned. "But I'm a pacifist. I've sworn a healer's oath, to do no harm."
"…Huh. What happens if you get into trouble?" Jace asked, suddenly looking pensive.
"I have ways to defend myself without resorting to violence," Dee-Bop replied calmly, removing the final bullet and snapping his fingers. Rainbow-patterned ribbons popped into existence, pulling a roll of bandages into his hand and expertly covering the pirate's wounds. "That's the path I've chosen to follow."
"No violence, huh? I wouldn't know much about that – I'm really good at violence, you know?" Jace laughed, examining the bandages around his midsection. "You do really good work, Dee-Bop!"
"My pleasure, Captain Rask," Dee-Bop smiled back, though his pleased expression wavered slightly under Jace's manic grin. "…Is there something else you need?"
"Yeah," Jace boomed heartily. "Join my crew!"
OoOoO
Nietzche stormed into the tavern, the few patrons within jumping at his sudden entrance. Glancing around the room, he glared at Davydd, who to his credit didn't flinch. "Enough stalling. My captain's not bleeding out anymore, so I'm not leaving without some answers."
The bartender sighed. "I saw the smoke. It's a pity you couldn't get away before they got to your boat. I'll tell y-"
"He's here!" a small boy interrupted, rushing into the bar. He panted breathlessly, pointing out towards the street. "Balido's here early!"
Davydd paled, shoving Nietzche onto a stool and hissing to him in what barely qualified as a whisper. "Just don't say anything or make any eye contact until they leave. I'll answer your questions as best I can once Balido leaves. Please." The pleading tone in his voice was enough to silence any immediate responses, so the pirate begrudgingly acquiesced.
Turning to face the bar, Nietzche blinked in surprise at the sight of several barrels. Deciphering the nigh-unreadable label, his lips quirked into a smirk. At least there was one pleasant surprise to be found here.
"I hope you've got our supplies ready, Davey!" came a bleating cry, as a… colourful individual swanned into the tavern, followed by a handful of virtually indistinguishable thugs.
The newcomer was wearing a bright yellow vest, the woollen curls making him look much bulkier than he actually was. Beneath his visor-like glasses, a cocky grin was all that was visible of his face. But none of it compared to his hair. Bouncy silver curls surrounded his head, with two spikes spiralling out from either side of his head, resembling a set of ram's horns above his ears.
"We decided to stop by a little early today, since we already had to deal with an unauthorised docking. You wouldn't have seen them, Davey? The boys said there were two on the boat, and I'm quoting here; a big stupid looking guy, and a small, fancy looking guy." The man chuckled, obviously the mysterious Balido.
Davydd shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you. If they landed here, they must have gone to explore the island. No one in town ever heads down to the docks, you know that." He muttered in reply, flinching as a bullet slammed into the wall behind him, mere inches from his head.
"Don't try lying to me, Davey. You're no good at it anyway," Balido sneered, his pistol still pointed at the unfortunate bartender's head. "So I'm going to give you another chance. Where'd they go?"
"How rude," Nietzche interjected, taking an experimental sip of the wine in his glass. "Surely you have better options than sheer barbarity?" he mused, inwardly analysing the wine and rendering his final verdict: 'Passable.'
"And who are you to judge? I'm 'Quick-Draw' Balido, second mate of the Butcher Pirates. Why mess with what works?" the gunman shrugged nonchalantly. "You must be one of the tourists, then. Sorry about your boat, but then you never asked permission to dock. And one other thing."
Nietzche blinked as the glass in his hand shattered, the ruby liquid spilling across the floor. He sent a glare at Balido, who just grinned at him.
"That wine is ours. Part of the tribute from the town, to keep our Captain satisfied, you see," The gunman shrugged. "I can't have you stealing it, can I? Now, this has been fun and all, but we must get down to business." He lazily levelled his gun at the blond, who promptly vanished from sight. A sound of cracking wood drew his attention and his guns to the left, where one of his thugs was lying prone.
"I don't care who you think you are," Nietzche grunted, from his position atop the brute's face. "But that was the first decent drink I've had in weeks, and you made me waste it." Balido fired wildly with a second pistol, the projectile embedding itself in the floor as the suit-wearing blond blurred away again, this time jamming an elbow into his target's throat and using him as a springboard to leap away.
"You bastard, stop running!" Balido swore as he emptied both guns at the target, realising too late that he'd shot one of his own troops in the arm. "You damned coward, fight me like a man!" he snapped, tucking one pistol into its holster as he grabbed ammo to reload.
"If you insist," came a cold voice from behind him. "Soru: Quickstep Barrage." Nietzche hissed, kicking out at the backs of Balido's legs and driving him to the floor. He grabbed the man's hair before he could fall, holding him for a second before driving him face-first into the floor.
"B-Balido? Come on, get up." One of the two remaining thugs babbled, unable to process the sight of his commander being almost effortlessly defeated by a-a child!
"He's not getting up. You should run," the blond commanded, a terrifying glare on his face. He smirked as the duo followed his advice and barrelled through the door. "Oh, for God's sake!" he winced, stumbling as he examined a red patch on the side of his leg. "And I don't even have someone to stitch this up properly. Why can't I have nice things…?" he grumbled, voice trailing off into silence as he tied a handkerchief around the cut as best he could.
"He-he actually took down Balido…" one of the bar patrons murmured.
"Unbelievable – couldn't even see him move!"
"Ahem," Davydd cleared his throat, flinching under Nietzche's half-glare. "While we appreciate you defeating Balido, you should probably leave before his thugs come back with reinforcements."
"I believe it's high time you told me the truth. I haven't heard of these 'Butcher Pirates' before, but I'm guessing they've been holding this island hostage?" Nietzche deadpanned, grabbing a fresh glass and refilling it with wine.
"I- alright then. We owe you that much. The Butcher Pirates arrived about a month ago, and started off by taking hostages and burning our ships. We tried to get them to leave, gave them all the valuables we had, but it wasn't enough for them. Their captain, Hambuta 'The Butcher', made us a deal; we give them supplies every week, and they don't hurt any of the villagers," Davydd murmured. "But if we don't give them enough, or if we try and call the marines, then Hambuta and his lieutenants attack the village. Not just the men and women, but the children too. As much as we hate them, there's nothing we can do, our lives are just playthings for them."
Nietzche stared blankly as the bartender continued speaking, emotion choking his voice. The blonde's expression betrayed nothing of his thoughts as he calmly took another drink from his glass.
"They've taken hostages and locked them up in their ship! If someone can't give them food or medical supplies, they'll take a prisoner until they get some form of payment – everything we own has been taken as fucking collateral! Please. You managed to beat Balido. Maybe you and your captain can help us beat Hambuta."
"Why haven't you tried something already? This is a decent-sized village, you'd outnumber him massively unless he's got a whole fleet," Nietzche pointed out. "And if that were the case, he'd never have managed to stay hidden this long."
"We might have been able to beat Balido, maybe even Vache, their First Mate, but not Hambuta. He's a demon, like the man who lives out by the cliff. Except he doesn't bother hiding it, he'll show his full demon form whenever he thinks he's being disrespected," Davydd concluded, looking utterly defeated. He shook his head, resigned. "I know I'm asking a lot, but if you could get to his ship, he took the mayor's Den Den Mushi. With that, we'd be able to contact the Marines."
Nietzche digested the new information with a nod, placing his empty glass down onto the bar. He glanced at his watch before shrugging. "It's not as though we have any other options when our boat's been destroyed. But I would like to note that I'll be expecting compensation when I return."
"What?" the middle-aged man asked, eyes wide.
"Of course, I'm not unreasonable. I do accept payment in the form of food and wine." Nietzche smirked, hands outstretched in an exaggerated shrug. "Whereabouts are these Butchers hiding?"
"I- Thank you so much. They're on the opposite side of the island. There's one cave big enough to conceal their ship from the outside. You shouldn't go straight there, they'll be watching the meadows and it will be much safer to take the coastline path." Davydd smiled hopefully, grasping the young man's hand tightly in both of his.
"Noted. I will return momentarily, so if you wouldn't mind dealing with these poor fools," Nietzche announced, gesturing to the three unconscious pirates on the tavern floor. "Now. Soru."
OoOoO
"I'm afraid I must turn down your kind offer, Captain Rask," Dee-Bop replied, eyebrows raised as he adjusted his glasses. "My work here is not yet done."
"Aw… What kind of work? 'Cause I could probably help you get it finished." The pirate pouted, nonetheless looking interested.
"There is a sickness in this island. A virus that is slowly crippling the town and its people. If I cannot save them, then it's my duty to help them through it," the medic frowned. "That said, I cannot deal with the source of the problem, despite my powers."
"Damn. Wait, is this like a real sickness, or was that a metaphor?" Jace asked, mirroring the shorter man's expression. As Dee-Bop opened his mouth to reply, a crash echoed through the building as the doors cracked under a heavy blow.
"Who-?" Before Dee-Bop could do anything more than speak, the wood splintered and flew inwards. The doctor spread both hands out as a rainbow-patterned circle burst into existence. "Rainbow-Rainbow Shield!"
The doors crashed into the shield, falling apart into wooden shards as a pair of thuggish-looking pirates burst into the temple, one brandishing a massive club – obviously their entry method. "Found you!" one of them jeered.
"Captain wants to see the 'Rainbow Demon', so come along quietly," the other agreed, holding a dirty glass bottle with one hand, the other hand clutched around a lighter. "Or we'll have to break the rest of your stuff."
"My friends, please. Violence is not the way. I will come with you as soon as I finish treating my patient here." Dee-Bop replied calmly, only for the second thug to burst out laughing.
"Oh my God, you're talking like some wannabe priest or some shit like that! Is this supposed to be a church? Hah!" he cackled, lighting the cloth within his bottles. "Let's see if you can pull off a miracle!" he cried, tossing the Molotov cocktails towards the far wall.
"Rainbow-Rainbow Cage!" Dee-Bop cried, coloured lights flying from his palms and wrapping around the bombs as opaque spheres. Two muffled booms rang out as the orbs contained the explosions. "I can't let you harm this temple."
"And what are you going to do about it, huh?" the club wielder smirked, smashing one of the benches into kindling. "'Violence is not the way', huh? Too bad."
Dee-Bop winced as shards of wood flew around the room. 'This is bad… I could probably hold them off, but could I keep them away from Rask as well?' he thought, gritting his teeth, before hearing a dull thud beside him.
"You think you can handle the bombs?" Jace grunted, a dangerous-looking smile on his face as he strode forwards confidently. Dee-Bop blinked for a moment, before nodding.
"I believe I can, yes. But…" 'I can't attack them.' he concluded to himself.
"I've got to say, I never got the whole 'pacifist' thing, and it's not just 'cause I'm a fighter. Y'know, sometimes," Jace continued, picking up his sword and grinning wider as his opponents faltered. "Sometimes, you find yourself in a place where you can't talk things over, where a fight is the only option you got left. You understand that, right?"
"I can't. I made a promise, long ago, to stay true to my healer's oath. Even if it means I lose a battle, I'm not going to let them take my convictions away from me." The devil fruit user retorted, a little more heatedly than he'd intended.
Jace gave him an appraising look, before throwing his head back in a booming chuckle. "Bwahaha! Now that, I can work with! If you can't attack 'em, leave that to me! You're handing defense, Dee-Bop!" he declared, before barrelling forwards into the club-user's chest.
"Hertz!" the Molotov thrower exclaimed, tossing two of his explosives towards Jace. Flashes of coloured light lashed out, diverting the bombs outside, shattering the windows. "What the hell?"
"I will not harm you," Dee-Bop announced placidly. "That does not mean I will allow you to harm my patient. Rainbow-Rainbow Lasso!" he called, a long streamer of rainbows flying towards his opponent, forming a loop around his torso.
"Huh?" the pirate managed, before a second lasso was wrapped around him from above, Dee-bop's deft gestures hooking the other end around a support beam and pulling the captive into the air, arms pinned at his sides.
"Damnit, Bernie," Hertz grunted, hefting Jace away from him with difficulty. "Banhammer!" he snarled out, bringing his weapon down in a heavy swing, capable of crushing almost anything in its path.
Jace snapped his free hand out, catching the club with a muffled grunt of exertion as his arm jerked from the impact. "Call that a swing?" he bellowed, jamming the hilt of his sword into Hertz' solar plexus, knocking the pirate to his knees. "This is a real swing! Vorrecht Smash!" he crowed, bringing the flat of his blade down on Hertz' skull with a resounding clang.
The Butcher Pirate was dead still for a moment, before Jace tapped a finger against his shoulder. The miniscule pressure sent him to the ground, clearly unconscious.
Jace wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Damn straight." He muttered in satisfaction, before a sound like tearing paper drew his attention to the other fight going on.
With a roar of exertion, Bernie snapped the bands around him and lunged at Dee-Bop, a jagged knife in his hand.
And promptly met a flying bench that slammed him into the far wall, where he bonelessly flopped to the ground.
"Got him!" Jace beamed. His smile fell as Dee-Bop immediately rushed to aid the unconscious men. "What're you doing?"
"On my honour as a doctor, I cannot deny treatment to anyone, no matter who they are," The healer noted seriously, forcing both of the enemies into recovery positions and examining their injuries with practiced ease. "It doesn't seem too serious, they'll wake up in a few hours." He sighed, relieved.
Jace nodded. "Alright then-"
BOOM!
The sudden explosion cut him off, as the entire island seemed to shake from the impact.
"What the hell was that?" Jace burst out. Dee-Bop removed his sunglasses, staring solemnly out of the open doorframe.
"That was the meadow. It means Hambuta's gone after someone else."
The captain grunted, strapping his weapon to his back once more. "Hambone's the guy in charge of these idiots, huh?"
"He's the sickness plaguing Antemar Island," the shorter man sighed. "Between his Devil Fruit and his crew, he's too powerful for any of us to fight. Not to mention how we're too far out for the marines to get involved..."
"So which way're we headed?" Jace asked, before looking out at a plume of smoke in the distance. "Never mind, I got it. You ready?"
"Ready?" came the surprised echo, the duo making their way outside. "What for?"
Jace's grin was positively predatory as he strode ahead. "We're gonna kick Hamburger's ass."
OoOoO
Nietzche darted across the terrain, peering at the distant coastline. A small blob came into view, the blond quickly identifying it as a decently-sized ship, probably a small carrack, or possibly a caravel. "Found you." He murmured to himself, turning towards his captain's location, before stopping short at the sight before him.
A meadow, stretching out ahead for what seemed like miles, the flowers forming waves of white, gold, pink and red as they waved in the breeze. The pirate stood stock-still, a surge of nostalgia welling up before he could stop it..
A laugh, like music, echoing across the field. "Come on, hurry!" the girl laughed, pulling the boy up after her. "This is my favourite place on the island, you can see all the different colours from up here." She explained, gesturing out at the neat rows of flowers planted in all directions.
"Whoa," came the awed reply. "This is amazing. I don't think I've ever been to a place like this before…"
"And to think, there's a whole world full of sights like this. But Father says I'll have to stay here and learn to manage his estates. I wish I could go out and see things, not be stuck here for the rest of my life…" the girl said wistfully, her companion sitting in awkward silence at her words.
"…Hey, Maria?" he eventually piped up, waiting until she looked at him to continue. "When we're older, and we get married, I'm going to get a ship and bring you all over the world!" he declared, determination etched on his eight-year-old face.
"…You promise?" the young girl asked, biting her lower lip.
"A gentleman like me always keeps his promises!" he declared dramatically, before both of them collapsed in fits of giggles.
The navigator shook his head to clear it. He needed to keep his wits about him if-
Ka-click.
Oh, damn it all to hell. That was a landmine. It hadn't gone off yet, but it surely had another fuse to set it off after a few seconds anyway.
Now he regretted not practicing Tekkai more often… but he still had one thing left to try.
"Geppou!" he hissed out, springing upwards and kicking repeatedly at the air below him to gain altitude. The whole world vibrated below him as jets of flame erupted all across the meadow. "Almost-Gah!" he bit out as the flames caught the bottoms of his legs.
The split-second of lost focus cost him dearly, as he lost control of his technique, tumbling head-over-heels back to earth, and landing roughly on his back, only dimly aware of the world around him.
He managed to push himself up onto all fours as a huge shape stepped into view, ears still ringing from the blast. "Jace? Good thing you're here-" he cut himself off as he took a proper look at the man in front of him. Long, greasy hair dangling down from a squashed, ugly face, a barrel-shaped torso on top of comparatively tiny legs, an upturned nose and a sneer on his face.
The man who could only be Hambuta pointed his giant cleaver at Nietzche. The words were still inaudible, but what was said was obvious.
"Now who do we have here?"
…
Done! Any questions, comments, criticisms you guys have, leave 'em in a review.
