Okay, so this is the first real chapter, in which you get to know Dragon and Luke (one of my funny OC's) a bit. I won't be revealing everything at once, but I'll tell you that Dragon is very, very special, and he doesn't remember his parents or hometown.
I do not own One Piece.
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Chapter one: CP0 and the Rackham pirates
Dragon strode through the dark halls in the back of the Mariejois palace, where the agents of Cipher Pol "Aegis" 0 were housed.
The walls were sound proof, and one could not find a single window in any of the halls or chambers. The doors were heavily secured, with guards posted in front of the meeting and file rooms 24/7. Even the washrooms were well protected, though Dragon could never imagine why. Perhaps the head of CP0 feared someone would poison the shampoo?
He stalked past several guarded doors to reach his bedroom. It, thankfully, was located in a currently empty hall. He stared at the thin opening under the door. The darkness within the room seemed to consume what little light could be found outside of it.
When he was younger, he'd avoided this room as much as possible. The loneliness he felt when entering was enough to choke and devour him. He'd preferred to sleep in various other places, including the roof and a small cupboard. Anywhere but in there.
He turned the knob, stepping fully in without hesitation and releasing the door so it swung shut with a soft "click."
Automatically, the too-bright ceiling light turned on. He'd used to wonder how they worked, as there was no dial or switch for them anywhere on the walls and his immediate presence hadn't been enough to activate them.
These days, he couldn't care less.
He found the ever-fully-packed rucksack sitting on the floor beside the bed. For the umpteenth time that week, he reached for it and slung it over his shoulder. He reached around and flicked his dark hood up.
He took a look in the small mirror permanently bolted to the wall. That stupid mirror, which he hated even more than the room itself. He saw no necessary reason for it being there other than to serve as a constant reminder to what he had become as an orphan "saved" by CP0.
His overshadowed, angry eyes stared back at him. His own gaze was piercing, scrutinous, in no way resembling the almost-happy child he'd been a long, long time ago.
He felt the sting of old, steaming rage rise in his gut as Akainu's words from years past came back to him:
"... A lifeless brat with a death wish and sick eyes that hate the world."
"Nobody asked you." Dragon rebuked, before shaking his head and pressing a finger against the spot between his eyebrows.
He remained like that for a moment as he shoved at horrific memories and too many emotions before they finally retreated. With his mind cleared of all but his new objective, he let his hand fall to his side. He found himself staring at the glossy wooden tiles, apparently having been waxed not-too recently, and saw his reflection there too. Only with his eyes lost in darkness.
Good.
He made to leave the room, but froze when he opened the door to find two tall, lanky figures blocking his path.
Two of his fellow operatives were there, sneering down at him.
Dragon clenched his free hand while the other tightened around the door knob. Great, just perfect. This was exactly what he needed.
"Hey, kiddo!" Zachary, A.K.A the black reaper, grinned wickedly at him as he leaned against the doorframe on one arm.
"What do you want?" Dragon spat as he imagined a painful, nasty, slow death for him.
"Maaan, don't be so rude!" Dominic, A.K.A. the Ocean Ghoul, ordered aggravatingly. He uncrossed his arms to jab a finger at Dragon while turning to Zachary. "This kid has gotten way too overconfident."
"Yeah, and after all that we've done for him!" Zachary chuckled maniacally, leaning down so he was on the same eye-level as Dragon. "Kid should be more grateful!"
Zachary jerked back, spitting out blood and teeth. The back of his head slammed into the wall with such force it left a small depression behind.
Dragon lowered his foot and shot a daring glare at the one remaining. Dominic gaped at Zachary in horror for a moment before turning on Dragon and attempting to knee his face in.
Dragon saw it all before he even moved. As the attack came at him, time seemed to slow down with Dominic's knee mere centimeters from his skull. Dragon flexed his fingers, and they turned the familiar sleek black of armament haki.
He caught the knee in his hand, gripping it tightly so Dominic couldn't escape.
"Curse you!" Dominic shouted, panicked,angry eyes meeting younger ones full of concentrated rage.
Perhaps it was his irritation at the Gorosei or maybe the knot of anxiety currently swelling up in his chest. Or maybe he was just so—damn—sick of this pathetic half-wit, but Dragon was in an extremely foul mood at the moment. More so than usual. And he was hardly willing to condone the nauseating company of two fools who used to deliver unto him savage beatings every time he attempted to escape this so-called "holy land."
Dragon crushed Dominic's knee in his hand as if it were a rotten banana. The Ocean Ghoul howled in agony and dropped to the ground, gripping his bleeding, broken, mess of a joint in his hands and looking horrified as small tears welled up in his eyes.
Zachary had gotten back on his feet by now, and swung a bo-staff coated with armament haki at Dragon's skull. His eyes zeroed in on the weapon as it advanced, pupils shrinking as it drew closer. At the last minute, he drop-knelt, his fingers ghosting over the tiles before he pressed them to a stop. The hardened staff smashed through the doorway and inched its way through the wall to a halt. The air was full of an odd confetti consisting of splinters and marble.
He jerked his legs forward, stepping into Zachary's shadow and slamming black knuckles into his chin from below.
The Black Reaper seemed to shatter into pieces as his eyes turned round, white and empty. Dragon lowered his fist and stepped back, watching as the man crumpled to the ground to lay besides his comrade. The pair of them were all twitches and gasps.
Dragon stepped over them both, expression hard and heart numb at the thought of what the Red Dog would have to say to him after this.
Whatever, he thought as he adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder. It won't be anything new to me.
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Several days later
"Flint! Captain Flint!"
Luke's brow furrowed in protest at his afternoon nap being interrupted by his boisterous crew mates yet again. Along with the voices there was this incessant knocking that had invaded his subconscious and caused him to dream of an avalanche.
There would be neither peaceful sleep nor dream aboard The Red Throne, pirate ship of Flint Rackham and his noisy, but loyal, crew.
Luke turned his head from where it, and the rest of him, were laying on the ship's railing. His eyes flickered open groggily to see the majority of his friends gathered in front of the captain's quarters, with Thomas (bald-headed, big-hearted, scar faced git) banging his fist on the door.
"Captain Flint, please come out!" Thomas begged, followed by a chorus of "please come out!" from the rest of the crew.
Luke sat up, slightly curious, and threw his legs off the railing so they hung over the ship's deck. He stared blankly at the crew as the door was finally thrown open.
Captain Flint was disheveled. His shirt was both tucked in and hanging out. He was holding his pants up, and his boots were completely gone. He was wearing only one sock, pulled halfway on. His usually neat, jaw-length black hair was a frizzy, curled mess on one side with the other swept into the air.
"WHAT THE HELL IS IT, FOOLS?!" He demanded, all red-faced and beyond cross.
"We can't open—!" They all sang out, with Thomas lifting a large jar into the air. "This pickle jar!"
Captain Flint dropped to the ground, with one leg stuck in the air and twitching in annoyance.
Luke grimaced, squaring his shoulders. He should've known this involved food.
Flint shot to his feet and leaned over Thomas in a mad rage.
"Idiots!" He yelled, taking the jar and twisting it open with ease before shoving it back into Thomas' hands. "Anything else?!"
"Yes, captain!" Every other crew member raised more pickle jars. "Please open these as well!"
Luke chuckled lightheartedly.
Flint threw an arm out at them, waving it up and down vertically with his fingers pressed together.
"Morons!" He screamed, eyes bugging out. "Why do we have so many pickles anyway?!"
"Because we're men, Captain!" They all replied at once.
"Ah! Except for Mistress Bonnie!" Thomas reminded. "Speaking of which, where is she? I haven't seen her around for hours!"
"Captain, come back to bed—!" Called a weary, whining voice from within the Captain's quarters. At the sound of it, captain and crew's eyes bugged out, their eyebrows shooting up. All eyes flickered to Luke.
Luke's blood pressure skyrocketed as soon as he put two and two together. Bonnie's satisfied and eager tone, and the captain's disorganized apparel... It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened.
His grip on the railing was so tight the whole crew could hear the crack of splitting wood.
Luke slipped off the railing and marched over to his captain in a murderous rage. The crew screamed in horror, throwing their arms in the air as they ran for it. The captain leaned against the door framed as if trying to make himself appear as part of the wall.
"N-Now, now Luke! Buddy! Calm down!" Captain pleaded with a nervous smile and panicked eyes as Luke's arm shot out and grabbed the shameless idiot by his collar. "S-She started it! And, I'm going to take responsibility for it, p-promise!"
"SHUT UP, YOU SOUL-LESS SLIME!" Luke bellowed, making his captain cower down against the frame. Luke pulled Flint's knife from his sheath and pressed the tip into his neck. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY SISTER!?"
"Sir Luke, please calm down!" Thomas begged, approaching him cautiously and holding out the jar. "Here, have a pickle!"
Luke shot him a death glare that reduced the man to tears. Some other crew mates came and helped him retreat back to the crowd, muttering nervously as they went.
"Luke, get your hands off my darling!" Bonnie shouted as she came rushing to the doorway wearing a blanket... and nothing else.
Luke's forehead vein was threatening to pop in his skull, and his eyes held an infuriated glint that made the captain curl his lips back as his eyes turned big and scared. The crew stood by, crying as they waved white handkerchiefs in farewell.
But Bonnie shoved Luke away and stepped between him and Flint. Her fiery, resolved eyes and offended expression allowed her to meet her brothers mad fury eye for eye.
"Luke, kill my darling and I'll disown you!" She threatened, jabbing a finger into his collar.
"Don't give me that crap!" He hissed, practically emitting his own lightning. "Find someone closer to your own age!"
Bonnie pouted. "Humph. Listen to you! What's ten years?"
Luke jerked his head to the side, his hands shaking as he grit his teeth.
"You—!" He growled, on the verge of pulling his hair out.
"Shut it!" She interrupted, taking the captain's limp arm. "We talked it over and we decided that if you weren't okay with it we'd make it up to you somehow, but we're sticking together!"
Luke leaned over her. "Bonnie!"
"LUKE!" She shouted. "Learn your place and stay out of my business! And if you kill Flint, I'll shoot for someone even older than him!"
Luke shuddered. Like twenty years older? Hell no!
He placed a twitching hand over his mouth, lest he say anything that would cause Bonnie to decide she was in love with all the men on this ship. Then Luke would have to kill everyone...
He bowed his head and pinched his nose bridge, gnashing his teeth together. Alas, that small trace of calm brought back memories of what life was like before Flint asked the siblings to join his crew.
They'd been on the run from just about everyone. Too often, they came close to dying of wounds, starvation, or hunger. Until a certain idiotic crew showed up, complimenting their ability to beat down even the strongest rogues. The captain, a good man with morals who was also a pirate, offered them a place to stay and to be free. He and Luke had even drank together, too, which made them brothers in a way—
Which made this feel even more nauseating! Dammit!
But Bonnie's eyes were full of conviction. And he'd always been a sucker for those eyes, caving in to whatever passing whim or life-changing decision she made. She had that effect on him as one of the only two remaining family members he had left.
He let out an aggravated sigh.
"Fine!" Luke spat. "He can live. But this doesn't mean I support you."
Bonnie turned her nose up at him with a smirk. "Ha! Like we need your support!"
"So how was she, captain?!" Thomas asked, beaming stupidly.
Flint grinned, highly pleased. "Quite good! Very—!"
Luke pulled his tongue from his mouth and prepared to cut it off, making Flint scream in horror as Bonnie grabbed her brother's arm to try and calm him down.
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Not far away, in a cheap inn located in a small port town, Dragon peered out the window at the approaching ship.
"The Red Throne, huh?" He muttered.
He turned away from the window and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.
"Luke Read, first mate of the Rackham pirates." He said, letting just the slightest trace of sympathy into his tone. "I hope you're having fun today. By tonight... you'll be dead."
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Alright that's all for now! I am writing a novel and that takes precedence, so don't expect an update TOO quickly. Also, please review. I will be forever grateful for any advice, compliments, and creative criticism. And I will express my gratitude with quicker updates. A lack of reviews may lead me to drop off the map.
