DATE: MAY 15th, 2019 (15/5/19)
Apologies in advance if this chapter seems unnecessary; I wanted to give some kind of context between the character's arrivals (more info on that later). Regardless, here's something I whipped up almost unconsciously. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hope is has some sustenance.
Last night for Brook had been...odd, to say the least. He couldn't seem to find the word to say the most without sounding like a freelancing sailor.
He wakes up in the middle of literally nowhere, talked to a long-as-hell skeleton who talked like it was Brook's long lost Uncle (hell, it even had the same name as him!), fell into an invisible ocean in the exact same void, nearly drowned after an hour of swimming, got woken up by a girl's voice which he really shouldn't have heard, finds this giant ship with a lion figurehead sitting conveniently behind him, gets pulled up a ladder by seemingly nobody, falls asleep on the grass(?) of a deck DURING HIS SLEEP…
...only to wake up soaking. And for some godforsaken reason, it wasn't even sweat, but saltwater. He even triple-checked, appalled and confused. And why was he wearing day clothes?! Wait, why were his pyjamas neatly folded on the end of his bed?!
Something was up. But the tip of his tongue couldn't seem to find why, dry as a desert. As such, here he was; a wet bed not even from his pants, wearing the same clothes as yesterday, with quite possibly the most sane, yet simultaneously unorthodox fever dream possibly ever. And goddamn, did it hurt his head.
Even when explaining this to his father, he merely said "Brook, you may simply feel unwell. Overworking your violin practise, perhaps?" Brook knew this couldn't be it; the whole thing was far too surreal for the answer to be that simple. However, he simply told his father that it was likely that was it (despite loving it immensely, as well as music in general), since he did practise violin for 2-3 hours during most days of the week. He even wanted to believe this himself, just to forget what happened. Maybe it was just being stressed out from this much work. It was a wonder how he'd never gotten tendinitis even once in his life.
"...and you'll be able to do it all again…"
The problem was that, whenever he thought he'd gotten it out of his head, that line would just come back into his head. He still couldn't figure it out. 'Do what again?! What am I meant to be doing?! And why would I have to wait almost 80 YEARS FOR IT?!'
He didn't even realise during his spasm that he had snapped the bow in half. He could only sigh at that, too, before going to grab a spare.
Later that night, he had gotten into bed, grabbing the pyjamas that were left there this morning by...whoever put them there. Likely his mother. As he climbed into the bed, he checked to make sure nobody was there, the window was shut and barricaded, the door was locked (much to his father's charagin at first), and that he and his bed were neat and untouched by anything.
"Alright," A tired Brook muttered to himself. "Last night was last night. Tonight will be better, I'm sure." He then tucked his head into the pillow, pulling up the soft blankets coaxing him, before falling into the slumber he had longed for after today's hangover from last time.
After a few hours, he suddenly needed to stir around a bit. He felt a bit...cold. Then again, considering he lived in the southeast part of the West Blue, this made sense. But didn't he have a blanket on?
As he reached for it, he couldn't seem to find it anywhere. All he could find was...grass? Really soft grass.
His eyes immediately shot open. He looked around him, seeing a lawn of fresh, lime green grass, leading up to a small veranda, a giant wooden pole, the back of a mane that looked like the sun, and above all else, pitch-black darkness as far as the eye could see.
He was back in the void, except he was on the ship where he crashed rather than in the water. (At least he got his pyjamas this time.)
Brook wanted to scream. He didn't want to come back here, despite being grateful that he was put on the deck this time. He wanted to be back in his warm bed back home in the West Blue, not on a brig sloop in this sea of nothingness. He wanted to yell at the heavens for putting him through this yet again.
So as he stood himself up, that's exactly what he did.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
After he let that out, he collapsed back on the deck, his throat burning away as hard as his poor voice box. He was already tired, and he didn't even know anymore whether or not that was a good thing.
He didn't even know what this ship was. Or who it even belonged to. To be honest, just being there terrified him. There are likely other people on this ship. No, there definitely were. And they could get the jump on him at any given moment! He'd be dead in an instant!
But wait. This was a dream. And he was on a ship in the middle of gobsmack nowhere. And there was what the skeleton said the night before.
"When you land, find the 'Sunny'. You'll be safe there."
Was this the 'Sunny' that it had talked about? Was that the name of the ship? And how would he be safe here? Oh wait, he'd be out of the water. Nevermind.
He got up after a bit, throat still a bit sore from screaming earlier. "Hellooooooo?" This was further proven from just how hoarse he sounded when he called out like that. "Anybody here?"
When nobody responded for a good fifteen seconds, Brook figured he'd take the initiative. If he was going to be here for what was likely every night, he might as well look around and see what's here, no?
He got up, walking across the grass to the door upstairs. Holy hell, the grass was soft. 'Is this real grass?' Brook thought to himself. 'I thought it was just for aesthetic.' By the time he had got that out of the way, he was already climbing the stairs up to the entrance inside the ship. He stepped through the door, trying to explore what he could before he woke up; best know where everything is for future reference.
10 Years since finding the Sunny
Sweat went down Brook's neck, as he tried to carefully block the movements from his opponents' strikes. He was currently training in swordsmanship under a kingdom a whiles away from his home. To be specific, he was training in fencing, and to be frank, he was not the fastest learner. Then again, it had only been three weeks since he started.
"Come now, Brook!" His mentor/opponent ushered, swiping at Brook's midsection again, only for Brook to parry it again. The mentor was well built, about 6"3' (though Brook was still taller), broad shoulders, strong arms and legs, the whole shebang. He was wearing a protective suit, similar to Brook was, though it could be seen he had a lavender suit underneath. He also wore black leather gloves on his hand, while Brook simply had the protective back-hand pads provided by the kingdom.
"You must have more confidence in your swordplay," The mentor took another jab towards Brook's right rib. "And besides, you're far too defensive. Sooner or later, you'll need to attack, lest you tire out and get killed!" He then swiped across Brook's chest with enough force to knock the latter down rather easily. Brook had always been extremely light. And skinny to boot. His mentor now stood above him, his épée pointing between Brook's eyes. "We wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?" His eyes showed both empathy for wanting Brook to better himself, and yet apathy for showing this wouldn't be an easy road, nor would he go easy on him under any circumstance.
Brook merely chuckled as he pushed the épée away from his face, standing back up and dusting off his training uniform. "Yes," he replied, a bit void. "I suppose nobody would want to die so easily. Sorry, Pierre."
Pierre simply gave him a small smile. "All is well, Brook," he assured the tallest nineteen year-old he'd ever seen, hand on his tiny shoulder. "All you need to do is keep training. Work on your balance with your sabre, uprise more confidence into your offensive capabilities, and I'm certain you'll do just fine."
As Pierre walked away to instruct another student, Brook could only sigh to himself. No matter what he wanted to do, he kept feeling too scared to move into a offensive position. Was it fear of pain? Of dying? No, wait, everyone has that. Then what was it holding him back? A lack of skill? Focus?
Brook shoved these out of his mind for now, opting to go out for the day to see what was at the market near the institution.
As Brook woke up on the Sunny that night, he sat in his cot that he chose in what seemed to be the Men's Quarters. He tried thinking about what he could do tomorrow to improve. After all, he had been spending each night here for the past ten years, doing whatever, be it dance around the deck, looking back over a part of the ship, or even simply sleeping more. Somehow, when he woke up, he never felt tired, no matter what he had done that night.
"Maybe I could cast aside all doubts and strike when possible?" Brook questioned. "No, too risky," He went back to pondering. "Perhaps watch their movement and find their flaws in their own posture? No, I'd still be too much on the defensive. Besides, what's the point of exploiting a weakness if they're already maintaining advantage?" Brook just collapsed, lying back in the cot. He couldn't seem to think of a strategy. Fortunately, he still had about 7 hours of thinking left to do before training again tomorrow. The faster he improved, the better.
"Wait a minute!" Brook shot up. "Couldn't I just train right now on Sunny?!" How had he not thought of that before?! He had been here for years on end, mostly relaxing to himself by sleeping within his sleep (he's never been tired since) or finishing a book, particularly adventure novels. How had he not thought to train?! If he could sleep here and get double the amount needed, why couldn't he just train here in his spare time?
Within mere seconds, Brook had jumped outside on deck, sabre at the ready. He quickly grabbed a training dummy he had found in the Crow's Nest a couple years back and brought it onto the main lawn, placing a wooden stick in its grasp. As Brook slowly drew a breath, he focused heavily on the dummy and where to possibly strike. He also remembered what Pierre had mentioned earlier today: posture. A crucial part to weilding a weapon, especially a blade, was the balance and focus in your stance and movements, as any wrong move could quickly leave an opening, and death could come even faster still. With this in mind, Brook tried a loose, yet poised stance; his right hand forward, sabre challenging the straw body, and his left hand behind him in an open grip. He had seen some of the other students at the institute try this with an average success rate, with his mindset being 'Why not? If it works, it works.'
29 Years since finding the Sunny
"CHIRP!"
Brook turned toward the tiny island whale (which was still bigger fucking huge, mind you) as the 'Little' guy wanted him to play something again. It was understandable since the Rumbar Pirates were essentially a Caribbean orchestra that could defend themselves, but the fact that this baby whale had given up on searching for its pod just to stay with them was something else. It wasn't even just the music either, the whale enjoyed being with the crew within itself, be it its captain, its second in command (yours truly), or even the bloody cabin boys, this thing loved all of them. And they had barely met it a couple weeks ago, still following them through the West Blue.
"CHIRP! CHIRP!"
Brook had to bring a finger to his lips, calmly shushing the baby. "Calm down, Laboon," he chastised the whale, a small smile on his face. "Ït's still early morning; most of the crew aren't even awake yet," He turned towards the ocean ahead. They were talking about headed to the Grand LIne soon; a challenge, Yorki said. Although, it'd be a month or two away, considering where exactly they were. "We'll prepare a song later on, alright? For now, let's let everyone get some sleep. We're going to need it for the days to come."
"Chirp!" Quieter than before, Laboon seemed satisfied with that answer, smile as grand as ever.
Later that morning, everyone on board was either playing an instrument (as that was the shtick of the Rumbar Pirates), or partying to their heart's content, everyone bearing a smile on their face. At first glance, if not for the bull's skull having crossbones accompanying it, it could be seen as a ballad-for-hire. Even a flying circus if you wanted to get to the unorthodox. And yet, they still did no harm to people, only opposing crews in self defence (with a small exception here and there). To see all these smiles and laughs was nothing less than a joy to see, let alone be a part of.
And Brook couldn't ask for anything more. And as far as he could tell, Laboon felt the same way.
2 weeks later
Late night, most of the crew were hungover from one of their most recent celebrations; Brook's first Bounty. And if he was being honest, ฿47,000,000 was an impressive number considering he wasn't even the Captain, figuring that only the captain would get a Bounty. Maybe all that training in you-know-where was starting to pay off!
Not only that, but they were a mere couple days away from the 'Pirate's Graveyard'. Funny enough, Brook was the only crewmember still awake; never had been a heavy drinker.
Though he wasn't chirping as loudly, Laboon was also still awake, talking with Brook (or at least listening to him and chirping back). The Island Whale had learned to be a bit more quiet after Brook scolding him a couple times and a few complaints from the rest of the crew.
As we speak, Brook was going over some of the days before they met the whale. "...and then when Miles was drunk playing a trumpet, his lips somehow got stuck in it! Yohohohoho!" he silently laughed. From Laboons light chirps and massive smile, it seemed he was doing the same. "It took 2 hours to get him out. When we finally did, he had the largest lips I had ever seen! Of course, seeing as Miles has absurdly high optimism, he went around trying to kiss everyone afterwards as revenge," Brook smiled fondly at the memory. It was a good thing his main instrument was the violin. He had used a trumpet a number of times, but he couldn't bare to think about using that lip-horn all of the time. Then again, he managed to get blisters the size of his lens once from playing the violin for 18 hours straight. Never again.
Brook suddenly had a thought. 'Sunny,' He had spent most of his life being on that ship throughout his dreams. Lonely as it may be, he always had time and space there to do what he pleased. He had practised both his musical talents, which caused him to become essentially the first-mate (the Rumbar Pirates had weird ground rules), as well as his swordsmanship and fighting capabilities, which not only reinforced his title, but even earned him a Bounty, which is incredibly rare for subordinates. Must have left a good impression.
He turned to Laboon, who looked up at Brook expectedly. Seems the little guy knew him just as well as vice-versa always seemed. Laboon knew something was on Brooks mind, and wanted the Humming man to tell him what was wrong.
'He knows me just as well as I do him,' he thought to himself. '...I think I should be able to tell him, even if to just get it off of my chest.'
Brook gave the whale a small smile, It seemed...reminiscent of something. "Laboon," he spoke. "Can I tell you something personal? It's very important to me." For the first time in forever, Laboon's smile dropped, his mouth agape. Smart boy he was, he nodded to Brook, asking to continue. "You see, I may appear strong, or have endless musical potential," Or that's what his crew kept saying about him, ever since they had seen him defend their ship almost single handedly many times. Honestly, it annoyed him sometimes. "But I wasn't blessed with these talents," His smile grew almost tenfold. "Rather, I was blessed with something far greater; something I could never be more grateful for in my life."
"Chirp!" At this point, Laboon's smile was as large as Brook's, and his tail was wagging like a little puppy. It was hilariously adorable.
Now that the Island Whale was interested, he sat himself on the portside railing, getting himself comfortable. "Very well. Let me tell you about the marvelous ship known as Sunny!"
1 week later
What a hell of a farewell party this was.
The Rumbar Pirates had just crossed over the West Blue entrance to Reverse Mountain early this morning. They had said goodbye to Laboon the day before, hoping he'd stay for his own safety, but lord-and-befucking-hold, he crossed Reverse Mountain after them, earning a 'small' scar on his head. Considering he paid it almost no attention, and was rather just chirping at them in happiness, it seems that his attitude hadn't changed in the least, either not hearing their pleads to stay in the West Blue or just flat out ignoring them and going through anyway.
At that point, they just felt bad.
Come now, for the past few hours, they had been non-stop partying, playing music, drinking, the whole shebang for a musical crew like this one. Even as the galactic blanket of evening draped over the Twin Capes, they refused to stop glowing and shouting with sheer joy alone.
While most were on the shores and the ship, partying their guts over the rocks, Yorki, Brook and Laboon were currently near the lighthouse with its caretaker; a young man in his early 20s, Crocus. For the most part, the two Pirates had asked Crocus about anything he could tell them about the Grand Line, any bits of information or tools they may need, and just overall general talk. The only reason they weren't directly outside the lighthouse was because Laboon wanted to be there as well, thought he did nothing more than chirp in agreement and smile at everyone. By the time Crocus had heard about Laboon's situation, he had already taken a liking to him. "Kid's got spunk." is what he'd say.
After Crocus agreeing to take care of Laboon during their trip through the rough waters, Brook went to Laboon, leaning over the water's edge. "Listen, Laboon, there's something important we need to discuss." Ladoon was immediately all ears, as he had learned that this was when Brook was serious. "The Grand Line is a truly dangerous sea, which is why we wanted you to stay in the West Blue," He then sighed. "But since that didn't work, being the little rebel you are, that's why we're asking you to stay here with Crocus at the Twin Capes until our journey comes to an end."
Laboon noticed Brook shake a bit, and as such, nudged him a little bit to get him back on track. "R-right. Sorry." He then cleared his throat. "Laboon, you know how I ate a Devil Fruit, right? The Revive Revive Fruit?" Laboon nodded slowly. He didn't know where Brook was going with this. "Well, you see, as I said, the...t-the Grand Line is a dangerous place, so we...may...d-die." That was when the gravity of the situation hit Laboon; Brook was warning him that, try as they may, they might not make it back.
As Laboon started chirping aloud, tears starting to form, Brook tried to calm him down. "N-no, Laboon! P-please l-listen before you cry like that!" As Laboon calmed down a bit, he continued. "Now, like I said, we may die in these waters. We're only mortal, after all," He chuckled to himself. "Now then, as I said, I ate the Revive Revive fruit, so I have a theory; if I, or all of us die, and I come back to life, then I will cast aside all that I have done to come back here once again," Laboon's head propped up at this; a beacon of hope. " I swear, no matter what we encounter on these seas, no matter what challenges us, we will return, even if I have to drag my own corpse back to you," Now Brook was beginning to cry. "I-I promise to you Laboon, I will c-come back for you, n-no *sniff* no matter the odds t-that may lay against the Rumbar Pirates!"
Laboon was crying as much as Brook, and yet was smiling just as grandiose and prideful. This was a promise of their return! How could he be sad?!
Neither of them say Yorki nor Crocus approach. "You'd better keep that promise of yours," The latter threatened. "Or I'll kill your corpse myself."
Brook simply wiped his tears with his suit and smiled. "I'd rather kill myself again than go back on such a word, Crocus."
As Yorki laughed aloud, Crocus smirked. "Good. We'll be waiting."
The next morning
As the sun had rose, the morning waves crashed against the Red Line, loudly roaring upon the great divide. Just as loud and numerous was the groan of a couple hundred hungover sailors.
After getting a shouting from their Captain, as well as a pushing from Brook, they immediately shook themselves off and hurried everything onto the ship for their long voyage ahead. By god, this was going to be a hell of a time.
Already, as they had begun to raise anchor, they all said their goodbyes to both Crocus, who they were immensely grateful for the info he had given them, and to Laboon, who was pretty much one of their own.
"See ya, flower guy!"
"Thanks for the help!"
"We're in your debt!"
"Farewell, Laboon!"
"We're coming back! Just watch!"
"We won't be more than a few years! Hold on!"
"Later, little brother!"
"We'll never forget you, Laboon!"
Through all the shouting toward the two, Brook smiled before walking to the stern. "Goodbye, old friend!" He shouted to the whale. "I promise, I will see through our bond to the end. So please, wait for my return!"
"CHIRP! CHIRP!" Laboon basically backflipped in excitement, cheering loudly in excitement. Beside the whale, Crocus looked at Brook with a straight smile, nodding. Brook grinned eagerly in return, as the Rumbar Pirates sailed into the Grand Line and all it held within.
'Please stay strong, Laboon,', Brook thought to himself over the loud cheers of his crew. 'I will return to the Twin Capes. Not even death itself shall hold me down.'
So yeah, there's that. Next up is the next crewmember, so that should be something to note.
Anyway, Read, Rate, Review, yada yada. Have a good day!
