X-X-X-X-X
"What is it?" Marco asked the merchant, turning the stone over in his palm. It was about 3 inches across, smooth and perfectly round except for a small indent in one side, shaped just right so he could grip it with his thumb. It flashed a rainbow of colors from blue to yellow to purple to red and white. He held it up to the sun, observing the way the light actually shone through it. Perhaps it was some kind of glass? He wondered.
"It's a switching stone, sir." said the old man, nodding to him. He frowned, not knowing exactly what that meant, but the stone fascinated him and it was cheap. He paid the man and ambled away from the stall and deeper into the market, turning the stone over and over in his palm, watching the way the colors changed.
Perhaps, if he'd been paying more attention to his surroundings, he would have seen the collision coming.
As it stood, he found himself suddenly colliding with someone much smaller than him. He looked up from the stone in shock to see dark red hair and wide, surprised eyes the color of grass, before they were both tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The hand holding the stone was suddenly trapped between them, pressed right over the girl's heart, beating a frantic, panicked rhythm against his skin.
Startled as he was he didn't notice the stone suddenly flash black. But he did notice when his vision began to blur and his mind went cloudy.
He was out before Vista turned the corner.
X-X-X
He came awake slowly.
Groggily, he groped for the clock that usually sat on his nightstand, wondering what time it was and how much, exactly, he'd had to drink the night before, only to realize that he couldn't move his arms. His eyes flew open, expecting to find himself in his room aboard the Moby Dick, but instead taking in the sight of one of the cells in the brig.
Blinking rapidly, he tried to move, struggling in earnest against the ropes binding his arms behind his back. It was then, when he looked down to asses the damage, that a curtain of dark red hair fell over his eyes. That, and he was looking at a rather impressive chest. Which certainly wasn't his.
"The hell..." he squawked, and the voice that came out was much higher pitched than he was used to. Starting to panic, he cast around for something, anything to tell him what was going on.
A door opened and light flooded the cell, making him blink rapidly, before the imposing, unhappy form of Vista appeared at the gate. Marco felt himself relax at the sight of his nakama, until he realized that the other man was glaring down at him. The larger man jabbed a key into the lock and pulled the door open, before striding in, gripping him by the shoulders, and hauling him up and out of the cell.
Vista didn't speak as he hauled Marco above decks, through the tight cluster of the other commanders, and tossed him rather unceremoniously at Whitebeard's feet. He let out a groan at the heavy contact, before lifting his eyes to his father, confusion and fear running through him.
Newgate observed him for a few moments before leaning forward.
"What have you done to my son, girl?" he growled. Marco blinked in confusion, struggling to sit up with his hands still bound.
"What are you talking about?" he finally managed, falling back on his ass without any support to hold him up. Whitebeard actually snarled in rage, and Marco found himself shrinking back. He'd never been on the receiving end of his father's rage before.
"Don't lie to me, brat. He won't wake and constantly cries out in his sleep, as though in pain. What. Have. You. Done. To him?" The Pirate Captain had leaned forward until he was fully out of his seat, kneeling in front of the quivering mess on the deck, glaring down with dark, unyielding eyes.
Marco, unable to comprehend what was going on, stared up into those eyes, tears welling in his own, and whispered:
"Oyaji."
The expression of rage melted from Newgate's face, to be replaced by horrified shock.
"M-Marco?" he gasped.
A sudden explosion rocked the Moby Dick, sending Whitebeard to his feet and Marco onto his back with a yelp. He rolled over just enough that he could see what had happened, and what he saw made his blood run cold.
The door to the lower decks had been blown clean off and lay in a smoking heap some distance away, but it was the blue mass of angry, hissing flames coming towards him that made him shiver. Ordinarily, seeing his own body coming towards him would have just seemed odd, especially without him in it, but now it was utterly terrifying.
Whitebeard made to intercept, but the figure, ringed in blue flames, dodged around him, landed beside Marco, scooped him up, threw him over a shoulder, and promptly leapt overboard. Wings spread outwards as the body underneath him rose higher and higher, taking him with them.
Marco could only watch in horror as his ship, his family and his father, got smaller and smaller as they flew farther and farther away.
X-X-X-X-X
/AN/
Why were you so hard to write, Chapter 2?
And if you're wondering why she was so mad, you try waking up in a strange location, suddenly the opposite gender. It would freak anyone out, I imagine. On another note, Marco is a tearful mess because of hormones, not because he's suddenly a pussy (lol pun). Also, stress does horrible things to birds, so cut him some slack for the lack of composure.
I know it's slow and choppy, but next chapter will have definite character development. I promise. Maybe.