"No, I don't want it," said Gladius.
"Gladius, if you don't refer to Dellinger by his proper name, I'm going to have you tortured," sniffed Jora.
"That makes absolutely no sense," said Gladius.
"Refusing to call a family member by their proper name is harmful, and therefore breaks the blood edict-zamasu," said Jora. "Now watch Dellybean. I shan't be gone long."
It was only after Jora had strolled off that Gladius thought up a witty retort that under those rules, nicknaming the baby should therefore constitute torture as well.
"I still don't like you," said Gladius, glaring at the child behind his goggles while Dellinger cooed.
He strolled around the market stalls full of fruit, vegetables and meat, trying not to entertain thoughts of exploding the child while Dellinger was reaching out with chubby fingers to grab his chin.
A nearby fishmonger sliced the head off a large exotic-looking fish. Dellinger's head swung around, instinctually, and his huge eyes locked onto the fish. Blood seeped out, and Gladius saw Dellinger's already protuberant eyes get wider. He let out a little hiss, his chubby fingers reaching out to the headless fish.
"You're disgusting," said Gladius.
Gladius started to walk away from the fish. Dellinger began to scream, his tiny fingers reaching for the fish. Several people tittered disapprovingly, as Dellinger continued to howl.
Gladius was considering hurling Dellinger at one of the onlookers in the hope they would be gored by his horns.
"It's not mine!" said Gladius loudly, holding the baby at arm's length. He could feel his head swelling up and was trying to maintain his cool. "Really, it's not mine! I'm just holding it!"
"Dear really, you don't just let the baby dangle about like that," said a woman with a pinched face, reaching out her arms. "You have to soothe it."
"No you don't want it- " Gladius began.
"Darling I have five grandchildren, let me show you how it's done," said the woman, taking Dellinger straight out of Gladius's arms and slinging him over her shoulder. She raised a hand to thump him on his tiny back -
"Why does your child have a fin?" asked the woman, perturbed.
"Just give it back," said Galdius over Dellinger's screams, knowing perfectly well Dellinger did not want to be coddled. "You don't want it. Don't touch it."
"Why does your child have a dorsal fin?" the woman repeated, nonplussed.
Gladius never got to answer that question, because Dellinger, clearly distressed at being slung over a strange woman's shoulder, proceeded to bite.
The woman screamed and dropped Dellinger. Gladius managed to catch him.
"No Dellinger! You don't bite unless we say it's okay to bite!"
Dellinger was now giggling happily, having gotten a mouthful of blood. He was now clawing at the woman, clearly wanting more from the fresh cut stemming from her shoulder.
"I told you not to touch it," said Gladius.
"Gladius, what is going on here-zamasu!" demanded Jora, reappearing, hands akimbo. "Honestly I leave you alone for one minute and you give Dellinger to strangers and let him maul people! Were you trying to get rid of him? So help me I will skin you alive-zamasu and turn you into a canvas!"
"Your child BIT me!" the woman shrieked.
Jora regarded the woman's shoulder.
"I've seen worse," she said, holding up her arm to show the large gauze pad taped to her forearm. "I'm so sorry, Dellinger has a rather unusual heritage that blessed him with unusual teeth. Perhaps you'll think twice before manhandling other people's children."
Jora then bought the fish and Dellinger ate the whole thing in less than an hour.
About four months after he arrived, Dellinger realized he could put his hands into his mouth. For most infants this was typical behavior. Except that Dellinger's mouth was full of sharp teeth, and would result in Dellinger biting his own hands and screaming horrendously.
Then of course Dellinger wanted to put his hands back into his mouth to taste the delicious blood.
Which then resulted in Dellinger biting himself again and screaming.
It was a horrendous cycle that Jora attempted to solve by knitting little mittens for Dellinger and dipping them in vinegar.
If Dellinger wasn't eating or screaming, he was usually chewing on something, clothes, dishes, shoes, fingers, the floorboards, Jora's hands.
It was another long, sleepless night, as Jora attempted to rock the child to sleep, Dellinger screaming and trying to stuff his mitted hands into his mouth.
"Dellybean, I cannot let you eat your hands," said Jora wearily, on the verge of tears trying to dislodge Dellinger's mittens from his teeth, yet again. "It's not good for your hands or your teeth. Please just settle."
Dellinger yanked his hand from his mouth and shrieked. There was a small clatter as something fell to the floor.
"What on earth?" Jora murmured.
She peered about on the floor to see a sharp pearly object. Jora picked it up clumsily with the oven mitts and examined it.
Dellinger had lost a tooth.
"Good heavens, it's not nearly time for you to loose teeth," said Jora. "What is this?"
She peered into Dellinger's mouth. There, amidst the rows of shark-line fangs, was a hole in his bottom teeth.
A hole in which a tiny, square tooth was crowning.
"Oh sweet Caravaggio," Jora murmured, horrified. "Heaven help me."
Dellinger was teething. And growing human teeth.
"I need toys for umm…uhh, a heavy chewer."
"Of course," said the pet store owner, smiling. "Right over here we have the best selection of bones, rawhide and high quality plastics. May I ask what kind of dog you have, sir?"
Doflamingo looked up blankly from the list Jora had given him; Dellinger was strapped in his snug little harness in front of him and for once, was dozing.
"What kind of dog?" he repeated incredulously. Dammit, why had he sent Jora to Rakeesh?
Teething rings and toys were shredded to pieces in Dellinger's mouth. As if Dellinger's desire to bite wasn't already bad enough, now that he was teething he seemed compelled to chew absolutely anything in site. Plates, tables, chairs, his hands, Jora's hands.
The problem was there was no consistency to the child's teeth. A fang would pop out only to grow another fang within a few days. Human teeth would crown, but barely last a week before they too popped out.
Machvise read up on fishmen and tried to reassure Jora that Fishmen regrew teeth regularly, but what was baffling was the child's insistence to lose his human teeth as well.
"Beheheheh! Neh neh what kind of dog? It's a mixed breed!" gurgled Trebol, leaning in entirely too close to the terrified clerk.
Doflamingo chuckled in spite of himself. "Fufufu, it is indeed a mixed breed. It was a stray when we found it, but we've given it a loving home."
"Oh how lovely!" said the clerk, ducking away from Trebol. "Rescues are the best! I'm sure we can find something accommodating. Right this way."
"Nehneh Doffy, let's get him a muzzle!" Trebol laughed uproariously, holding up a muzzle that probably would have fit Dellinger.
Doflamingo entertained the idea for a moment before realizing Jora would probably throw a fit if she got back from Rakeesh to find Dellinger in a muzzle.
Corazon tripped over a cat that was meandering about the store, simultaneously knocking over a display of dog food.
"Doffy, you know what I want when we get to Dressrosa?" said Diamante, casually stepping over Corazon. "I want a bull. Can we get a bull?"
The long nights got longer (as if they weren't long enough to begin with), as Jora tried to soothe the child's tiny red gums with whiskey and ice. Clearly Fishmen had to have tough mouths to constantly regrow such sharp teeth.
Jora found Dellinger's mismatched teeth to have an oddly charming effect, but she couldn't help but wish the child would pick one set of teeth or the other and hopefully remain comfortable enough to stop biting her and the furniture.
But Dellinger's fishman heritage didn't manifest just in his features. The child was rather enraptured with the sea, and the family could only attribute it to his fishman blood. He was prone to starting out over the water for great lengths of time with his huge, protuberant eyes, and – on occasion - jumping off the railing into the water.
The first time this had happened the family had panicked, as most of the crew were devil fruit users.
Jora, in a fit of hysterics, had shoved a rope into the newly-recruited Trafalgar Law's hands and thrown him off the side of the ship screaming "SAVE HIM-ZAMASU!"
Dellinger was happily treading water with his sturdy little legs and giggling when Law reached him. Law cursed under his breath as he hauled the giggling child back up to the deck.
A small rope was harnessed around Dellinger's middle from henceforth if he felt like flinging himself off the side of the ship, another family member would not have to be flung after him.
"Law just likes getting thrown around!" giggled Baby 5. "First Corazon, and now we're throwing you off the ship!"
Law shot her one of his vicious glares, and she ran to Buffalo.
"Can you believe it?!"
Jora swept through the room, cradling Dellinger in her arms.
"He slept the whole night!" she said, her voice quivering somewhere between exuberant joy and hysteria. "The WHOLE night! My first night's sleep in almost a year!"
She held Dellinger up who gurgled down at her.
"It's true-innn," said Machvise stroking his beard. "I didn't hear anything. Baby 5, Law, Buffalo, you're closest to Dellinger, did you hear him cry?
"I heard Buffalo snoring!" said Baby 5.
"I don't snore-dasyun!"
"Do too!"
Meanwhile Corazon fell face first into his porridge, snoring.