Caesar glared down suspiciously.
He stood just within the shadowy bounds of his corner on deck. His head slightly tilted to the side, regarding what sat in his normal spot.
A cheerful white pillow, with oranges of various sizes printed on its case, sat happily amongst the shadows of his corner.
He looked over his shoulder, back at the obnoxiously bright domain of the Straw Hats.
The pirates he could see on deck didn't seem to be acting out of the ordinary. They carried on with their insane antics as usual. He gleaned no particular hints as to who had violated his corner with this cheery monstrosity.
He cautiously approached the pillow. Ready to leap away should it detonate.
He had seen stranger assassination attempts than explosive pillows in Reltia.
Caesar edged forward slowly, squatting down just close enough to be able to touch it. Closer inspection showed that there was no ticking nor chemical vapors issuing from the cushion. As far as he could tell, there were no unknown powders on it. The ground around the pillow had no wires or pressure plates that he could see. His chain rattled as he gingerly reached out with an extended finger and thumb to lift the happy cushion to look under it.
Caesar saw nothing but deck planks.
He waited a moment.
This was good, he still had his hand and nothing had exploded.
It was the little things in life to be grateful for. Like functioning limbs.
He gently put the suspicious cushion back on the deck. Now, Caesar poked the pillow in random locations, looking for hidden blades, needles or vapor capsules. He wasn't able to detect any.
The pale man balanced on the balls of his feet while stooping down, glaring down at the pillow.
He returned to his investigation. Now Caesar used his full palm to press portions of the pillow down. Still, nothing unexpected happened or was found.
Satisfied that the contents seemed safe. He lifted the cushion, inspecting it from all angles. Looking for any hint of danger.
Again nothing.
He laughed to himself.
Leave it to the Straw Hats to give him a bribe and bungle it.
Bribes only worked if the receiver knew who the giver was.
Idiots.
"What the hell are you doing?" Caesar was shocked out of laughing and nearly dropped the pillow.
He turned around as fast as he could, nearly falling over in the process.
Just outside the shadowy bounds of his corner, Muscle Head stood. He leaned slightly to the side and had a hand lazily resting on his white hilted katana. The green haired man was looking down at Caesar with a raised eyebrow.
Caesar had gotten that look enough times in his life to know that his sanity was being questioned.
His face contorted to a snarl and he dropped the pillow.
"Nothing. Just minding my own business. Don't worry, I'm being a good little prisoner. You can go back to lifting weights or whatever other mindless things you do. Don't mind me." Caesar flippantly waved his hand at the swordsman.
Muscle Head seemed to ignore the underhanded insults. He looked between Caesar and the pillow. At last he sighed and rubbed the nape of his neck.
"Whatever. What you do with pillows on your own time doesn't bother me." The green haired man paused and looked back, near the kitchen entrance, where the other Straw Hats were gathering.
Caesar could see the man's jaw muscles tighten as a mental war waged between the two brain cells he had.
Eventually, the green haired man turned back to him wearing a look mixed with annoyance, dread and resignation.
"Follow me." With that, the swordsman walked away.
Caesar got up, not bothering to contest the orders. Muscle Head could easily put him into a world of hurt, if he was so inclined. He gave one last look to the happy little pillow laying on the deck. After a moment of indecision, he picked up the pillow and carried it with him after the swordsman. This pillow, was now technically the one non-essential item he owned on this ship. Though it was a cheerful monstrosity, it was his cheerful monstrosity.
His chains clanked together as he hurried to catch up.
"Where are we going?" The green haired man didn't slow down and simply pointed up towards the crow's nest.
"Why are you taking me up there?" Caesar demanded and Muscle Head huffed in annoyance.
"Because the others want you out of the way today. So my training time takes a hit 'cause I have to babysit you." Caesar frowned in response.
"What are they doing?" The other man shrugged.
"Luffy wants to play some sort of game… tag… and something about turtles… I think. Nami and Love-Cook made me take over watching you today. Something about avoiding 'collateral damage'." They had gotten to the base of the main mast, a very heavy door before them.
Muscle Head pried the door open and went in. Caesar had to scramble, trying to avoid getting smacked by the heavy door.
The mast was hollow on the inside and large enough to accommodate about three or four adults and had similar strip lighting running up the walls as in the brig. Caesar also noted that metal rails that ran up the sides of the mast and that half the floor was wood and the other was a large plate of metal.
Muscle Head strolled over onto the metal plate. He then found a metal flap on the wall and flipped it open to reveal a large green button.
Without even bothering to look at the horned man, he pointed at the metal plate and grunted.
"Stand here, and don't touch the walls." Caesar's face contorted into a grimace.
He really didn't like being ordered about but he didn't have a choice in the matter. Though his intellect seemed as sharp as a particularly large boulder, Muscle Head was still the first mate of the ship.
Caesar's feet dragged as he moved to stand beside the swordsman. The green haired man then used his fist to push the exposed button.
Caesar felt clank of a gear engaging vibrate through the floor.
They began to rise up the mast as the metal platform they stood on began to climb the rails on the wall.
Caesar stood next to the swordsman, holding onto his pillow. Though he didn't show it, he was excited.
He had never been to the Crow's Nest before.
As they got closer to the top, it got brighter. Looking up, he saw a the red painted ceiling of the Crow's Nest getting closer.
At last they stood in the center of the Crow's Nest. The metal platform filling the half circle hole in the floor.
Like most of the ship, this room was obnoxiously bright too. An arching ceiling painted a cherry red above him. Light yellow wood planks made up the floor. Pristine white walls sat beneath the windows that spanned the full stretch of the room. Giving anyone present the ability to gaze out over the ocean in any direction.
There were padded benches beneath the windows, similar to the ones in the aquarium room.
That's where the original function of the room ended.
Caesar inspected the contents of the room and sighed internally. This room was effectively a shrine to the god of gym rats.
Weights of all sizes sat stacked to one side. Several larger than himself. On the other side, there were machines that could accept the monster weights and stress other parts of the body. Sparring dummies stood grinning to another side of the room. Lastly, a padded mat covered a good portion of the floor with a tiny table to it's side. On the table, sat a bowl with a small mound of grey sand in it and a collection incense sticks beside it.
Without a word, Muscle Head walked away and towards the tiny table. Caesar watched him shed his outer robe and set it on the floor. He removed the swords next, reverently placing them before the bowl.
Next, he picked up three incense sticks, and lit them. The flame flickered at the tops for a moment before Muscle Head cut through the air with them. The flame died and the embers glowed a hungry red. The three sticks were stabbed into the sand, to stand tall, and smoke rose from the embers.
Muscle Head walked away from the table to stand in the center of the mat. Caesar watched with confusion as the green haired man then bowed towards the table.
Every single Straw Hat was loony apparently.
After the bow, the swordsman settled into a wide stance squat. Almost as if he was sitting in an invisible chair. He exhaled while pushing his arms out, fingers fanned so that the index fingers and thumbs touched to form a triangle. Then inhaled as he brought his arms back in, hands folding together as if in prayer.
He continued this and Caesar quickly grew bored of watching the man pose in a weird way and flail his arms.
Caesar slinked to a bench farthest away from Muscle Head. Placing his pillow between his back and the bench's armrest as he perched. He sat sideways so that he could look out the window while keeping an eye on Muscle Head.
It paid to be cautious.
It proved boring watching Muscle Head warm up. Switching from one strange slow moving pose to another. That was fine though.
It was delightfully quiet here.
They were high enough so that the tomfoolery of the Straw Hat's below was almost unnoticeable and Muscle Head kept to himself. Focused on doing the same mindless task over and over again.
The ocean stretched out beneath him, a solid sheet of crystalline blue with bands of glowing sunlight on its surface, for as far as Caesar could see.
The most beautiful things in life were often deadly.
Actually, that was wrong.
Almost everything was either capable of or out to kill you, regardless of beauty.
He knew just how many known and unknown dangers lurked beneath the ocean's surface. That one sudden wave to snatch him down into a watery grave. Massive beasts just waiting to strike. The dangers of the ocean went on and on but there were also mysteries. Shipwrecks with secrets at the bottom. Undiscovered fish and Sea Kings with abilities that went beyond known science. Natural wonders that exposed riches hidden deep within the earth.
There was simply so much out there to discover.
Caesar's gaze dropped to the manacles on his wrists.
Yet, here he was trapped. Wasting what little time he had. Doing nothing but suffering the presence of these flimsy smile pirates. Forced to listen to the lies and fairytales that they believed in with all their delusional hearts.
Suddenly, the utterly heartbroken look Franky had given him sprung to mind. Caesar viciously beat the memory away.
Just because a person believed in something didn't make it true.
A clank of metal caught his attention.
Muscle Head had switched from warmup exercises to practicing swinging a large pole with massive weights on it. With each stroke the weights rattled against each other.
Annoying.
He thought back to the pillow at his back. One or more of the Straw Hats had tried to bribe him. He didn't really care which. He refused to be manipulated into being a docile prisoner. However, this might mean that he could milk things out of them. Make them think he'd cooperate in exchange.
He'd like a notebook. At least then he could work on some theorems. Plan out some experiments. Draw some designs for possible genius devices. Should be a harmless enough request. What was he going to do? Threaten to give them papercuts? Write Dolfalmingo a message in a bottle?
He chuckled at the absurdity.
Which Straw Hat should he try get what he wanted out of?
Red Harpy, Straw Hat and Muscle Head were already off his list.
Long Nose was an option. He could see the marksman agreeing to a trade. Knowledge or help with his munitions in exchange for a notepad. A possibility, but Caesar was a scrooge. He rather not trade precious knowledge away if he didn't have to.
There was also Franky. The Cyborg might give him one for free but that meant possibly risking some super antics, or worse, being danced at. Caesar shivered at the memory of Franky's 'inspirational' dance. No, no. Not worth the notepad.
Then there was crazy Brooke. Caesar snarled at the thought of the Dead Man. Ever since that night, Brooke greeted him cheerfully each morning. Ruffled his hair when he least expected it. Visited him and played racket on his instruments near him. Worst of all was all the questions. About what he liked, what he didn't, his past, present and future. For a man that didn't have a nose, he was infuriatingly nosey. A notebook was not worth the price Brooke would ask.
Nico Robin could get a notepad easily but she was a dangerous mark. She was intelligent and cunning. It would be foolish to be indebted to or owe such a woman a favor.
Chopper was a bleeding heart, he could possibly get a notebook out of the little deer. Caesar frowned, doubts rising. Though the doctor was irrationally kind, he had made it clear that he didn't support the horned man's brand of science. It would be a tough sell to get Chopper to give him a notepad.
Last was Black Leg. Despite the easily provoked reprimands, sharp kicks and reserved attitude, the cook was surprisingly kind to Caesar. Ever since Caesar had been placed on a juicing diet, the blond man had been diligent in figuring out what vegetables and fruits were liked and disliked.
Caesar wasn't a picky eater when it came to foods he could digest, but, kale was just vile. Only to be consumed in the most dire of circumstances.
The cook had actually laughed at him when Caesar recoiled from the drink and indignantly demanded to know what the new revolting flavor was. Black Leg seemed both bemused and saddened by Caesar's general lack of experience with uncommon foods.
It turned out that the pale man had a sweet tooth. He deeply enjoyed sweet fruits, especially strawberries. Problem was that the cook often reserved the sweet fruits and berries for the women on the ship. Caesar didn't even bother considering contesting how most of the fruits went to the women. Black Leg's brain seemed to evaporate when females were involved, becoming deaf to words and reason.
Black Leg, did seem to like looking after people in more ways than just feeding them. He was often the first to break up an argument or fight, unless it was Muscle Head, then he picked one. Always stood ready to jump into the ocean to fish out his foolish captain. Humored the younger pirates' games and jokes with a dry wit.
Black Leg might give him a notepad at no cost.
He began to imagine scenarios in his head. Possible ways of confronting Black Leg and word choices. Analysing each and attempting to figure out the method with the most success. He liked using threats, but as a prisoner, they had little weight. Appealing to dark desires and bribes were ineffective on the cook. However, asking directly, left the pale man feeling exposed and feeling a distinct lack of control. There maybe was some-
"As obnoxious you act around the others, you're actually pretty quiet." Caesar was jarred out of his thoughts by Muscle Head's offhanded comment.
Cursing himself for being inattentive. His shoulders hunched forward and he looked at the swordsman from beneath his bangs.
Muscle Head was now standing off to the side, by the large machines. Drenched in sweat as he guzzled down water that had been hidden behind the exercise contraptions. After draining half a gallon, the green haired man looked over at him. His single eye, half hooded, yet piercing.
"Better to be quiet than stupid." Muscle Head smirked in response.
"Oh? Wanna run by that by me again?" Though the man's face remained stoic, the lone eye both dared and laughed at Caesar.
Caesar was the first to look away, down at the floor, in defeat.
Muscle Head chuckled darkly and resumed chugging his gallon of water.
The thud of the water jug echoed hollowly as the green haired man set it down and wiped his mouth with the back of his fist. He paused, and gave Caesar a look that seemed to indicate he was thinking.
"You're a logia fruit user right?" At long last, Muscle Head drawled.
Caesar gave the man a flat stare.
"No... No I'm not. I just wear seastone cuffs for fun." Sarcasm saturated Caesar's words and the swordsman frowned.
The brawny Straw Hat, walked over to his discarded robe and rummaged about it's folds.
He stood, and in his calloused hand, was something Caesar had dreamed of and plotted after for weeks on end.
The key to his seastone cuffs.
Caesar felt every fiber of his body tense.
He wanted that key so badly.
"I asked to borrow this." The swordsman stated, in almost a bored fashion, and he lifted the key up higher for Caesar to see.
"We've had tough fights in the past with logia users. Annoying bastards." Caesar hung onto every word the man said, his eyes never leaving the key.
"The others said you put up a good fight, took out Smoker even. I want to fight you. Practice fighting logia powers." The lone eye cut into Caesar, but the pale man didn't react, still fixated on the key.
"I'm offering to let you out of the cuffs for a time, in exchange for a little sparing time. No poison, touch hits only. I don't need Chopper or Franky on my ass. Also, just try to pull a fast one on me, and I'll put you in Chopper's ward for the rest of your stay on the Sunny. Got it?" Caesar was already up, and walking towards Muscle Head.
The swordsman grinned darkly with excitement when Caesar offered up his shackles.
The cuffs came off and Caesar reeled at the sudden return of his abilities.
It was like having lived in a straight jacket and suddenly being released. Euphoric.
The air of the room responded to his will and rushed forward to meet him. Like an overjoyed dog, bounding forward. His body dissolved and turned to gas. The outside air colliding with his core, mixing. Balance and energy, restored at long last.
"Oi" The gaseous mass curled about to look at the swordsman like a snake.
Muscle Head already stood at the other side of the mat, two wooden blades in hand and another clenched in his teeth. Air was swirling in the room due to Caesar's joy, causing the green hair to ripple and the cloth leggings the swordsman wore to flutter.
The lone eye sharpened as the wood blades became black and Muscle Head sprung forward.
Caesar barely had enough time to react.
His gaseous form dove to the floor to avoid the blades that now cleaved through the space he had been in moments before.
Touch hits his ass, that strike would have hurt like hell.
The lone eye of the swordsman was glowing and already following up with another attack. Shit.
Caesar divided himself and tried to get behind Muscle Head.
The swordsman seemed to pause and Caesar hurried to blast pressurized air from behind, in an attempt to send the Straw Hat flying.
He got behind Muscle Head and began to gather the air he needed, then tried to surge forward.
Only to collide with the swordsman's waiting black blade.
Caesar's vision filled with stars.
Despite the pain clouding his vision, he knew more blows were coming.
He surged to the floor again and spread himself as thinly as possible along the surface. A gamble to gain some recovery time.
Muscle Head stood crouched, surrounded in gaseous Caesar covering the floor. His arms tensed, ready to swing his blades. Waiting for Caesar to make a move.
Caesar's vision came back to him and the pain receded.
He snarled to himself, angered over the pain.
No poison, fine. Caesar grinned, he could do that.
Caesar commanded the oxygen in the room to rise to the ceiling. It was always amusing how little of the air was oxygen. Harmless nitrogen stayed behind to be choked on.
To the swordsman's credit, his stance held. The lone eye narrowed and smirk grew into a grin when the stakes rose.
Muscle Head spun low, black blade sweeping the floor.
Caesar surged upwards, to dodge the sweeping blade.
The next blade came in, seeming to already know where Caesar would evade to.
He curled into a flowing stream to avoid the strike.
The last blade was dead center, having predicted Caesar's dodges perfectly.
The strike slammed into Caesar and pain radiated from the blow.
He couldn't out maneuver Muscle Head. He needed to keep him off balance. Wait for him to suffocate into unconsciousness.
Caesar scrambled towards the ceiling and the swordsman was quick to pursue.
This was a small enclosed room, he could manipulate the pressure easily here.
He altered the pressure and sent a blast of air towards Muscle Head in an attempt to knock the swordsman away.
The green haired man easily dodged the first blast but was hit by the second that followed.
Caesar maintained the air stream, trying to pin the swordsman.
Muscle Head had his swords up in a guard position. Slowly, he was being pushed back towards a wall by the localized gale.
Caesar grinned, this match would be his once the swordsman got pinned to the wall and made to suffocate.
Muscle Head unexpectedly dropped his guard and raised his blades. Both above his head as if to strike.
Caesar smirked at the desperate melee attack. There was no way it could hit the gas man when he was on the other side of the room.
"Santoryu… 108 Pound Phoenix!" The green haired man's voice grimly announced as the blades swung.
A blast issued from the swordsman, carving Caesar's stream of air in two and connecting with his gaseous form. Stunning the horned man for a second.
But a second was all Muscle Head needed.
He sprung forward, instantly closing the distance, his blades raining blows on Caesar.
Caesar desperately tried to glide up to and along the ceiling to get away.
In a single bound, Muscle Head leapt up. All three blades up and striking along the red roof of the room.
The blades connected and Caesar went crashing down to the floor painfully.
Before he could recover, Muscle Head stood in the center of his gaseous mass. His blades pressed against his cloud.
The dark gleam in swordsman's eye showed that he knew that Caesar was cornered.
Muscle Head had won.
Caesar released the oxygen and his gases slowly moved away from the swordsman.
He collected himself back into a semi-corporeal form, standing a healthy distance away from the now frowning Straw Hat.
"I know you're not at full strength but… that's it?" Muscle Head spoke in a disappointed voice and Caesar bristled.
"Well! Why don't I take your swords from you and put you in a straight jacket for a few weeks! Then let's fight again after that!" The green haired man shook his head.
"No, your devil fruit power is fine. It's you that's pathetic."
"How does that even make sense!? My fruit is part of me! It makes me strong! I'm not pathetic!" Caesar shouted.
"You have power, but you're not strong. Not even close."
Caesar blinked and suddenly Muscle Head was in front of him.
A black blade speeding towards Caesar's face.
The sword stopped just before it hit.
"Look at you, a damned mess." Caesar was reeling, struggling to compute both the aborted attack and insult.
"Your footwork is shit, too close together, no balance." The blunt blade tapped one of his feet.
"No posture, all curled up. One hit and you're losing ground." The training sword poked his stomach next.
"These arms, all over the goddamned place. Nowhere near where they need to be for a decent guard or attack." The blade smacked one of the wrists Caesar had hastily thrown up in defense.
"Worst of all, absolutely no sense of the battlefield and telegraphing your moves for everyone to see." Muscle Head huffed and walked away.
Caesar was shaking with fury.
Here he was, a prisoner. Chained, and his power sealed away. To get a moment of respite, he had to be this Straw Hat's sparring dummy. Then to be ridiculed.
His teeth began to grind and rage ran amok.
Reason slowly surfaced and began to argue with fury.
Before he had gotten his fruit, fighting had been something that he had avoided at all costs. Even among the other urchins, he had been the weakest. His thieving had been long hours of scoping out and following targets. Learning what he needed in order to make the perfect snatch or ambush.
The two times he had severely miscalculated, had been cornered and forced to fight. He had lost those fights and gotten his Xs.
His hands clenched.
He had fought tooth and nail to get to where he was.
He would continue to make each day better than the one before.
No matter the cost. No matter what he had to sacrifice or if he died trying.
One day, he was going to be at the top and laugh at the hell this world was.
Swallowing his pride this one time was a small price to pay.
He looked up at Muscle Head, expecting him to have moved on, back to training.
Instead, gold eyes met a half lidded eye.
At some point the swordsman had turned and watched him. His body was relaxed, but his gaze was hard, unyielding. He was waiting. For what?
No matter.
He had answers to get. He wondered what this venture would cost him.
"... What does a proper stance look like?" Muscle Head regarded him in silence.
Soon, Caesar looked away from the intense gaze, fidgeting. The air in the room cycled a little faster.
"It changes depending on the opponent, but for you, your feet should be pointing forward and even with your shoulders. One of your arms should holstered at your hip, ready to throw up a block or punch. And the other up in a ready block. Your legs should be bent and ready to move or rise up to guard your lower torso. 'Cause you're stupid tall, your torso is a easy target. Get used to guarding that." The green haired man shifted, now leaning on one leg and arms crossed over his bare chest.
Caesar looked down at his feet and repositioned them. Next, he thought about his arms. He placed one by his hip and another in front of his chest.
He was interrupted by a groan.
Caesar looked over at Muscle Head and the man had his face in one of his hands.
Caesar snarled, he was doing as he said!
At last the green haired man righted himself, he sighed.
"You haven't had any training. You have no idea of what you're doing." The swordsman marched forward.
He grabbed the fist by Caesar's hip and briskly twisted the fist to make the underside face the ceiling. He then lowered the elbow of the blocking arm, making the fist level with Caesar's eyes.
"Straighten out your back and bend your knees more." A wood blade tapped the lower part of his spine and the backs of his knees.
This pose felt unnatural to Caesar. His legs complaining and various muscles tense.
Muscle Head inspected Caesar's stance and then nodded slightly.
"Good enough for now, I guess. Try getting in and out of that for a while." Caesar's lips curled.
"What do you mean 'good enough for now'? What am I doing wrong? Tell me and I'll fix it!" The green haired man smirked slightly at him.
"You're doing alot wrong, but that can't be helped until you have more experience." He paused and pushed the fist by Caesar's waist down a little.
"You were a knife fighter at some point. Picked up some bad habits from that." Caesar blinked owlishly.
"How do you know that?" Caesar asked and Muscle Head huffed.
"You keep overextending your arms and leaning way too far forward. It's what untrained people do to try and make up for a knife's short reach. Fix your right foot." Caesar looked down and fixed the foot that had twisted out.
Muscle Head stood and watched Caesar get in and out of stance. Verbally correcting mistakes.
At long last, he nodded.
"Alright, you practice by yourself. I'll be back to test you." He began to walk away and suspicion uncoiled itself and rose within Caesar.
"What are you going to want in return after this?" The swordsman paused.
"From you? Nothing." He resumed walking.
"Why are you helping me then?" The green haired man stopped walking away and turned slightly back.
The two men watched each other. One with narrowed eyes and the other with an eye as hard as stone.
At last, Muscle Head reacted.
His lone eye closed and he smirked.
"I'm told you're supposed to be smart. Is that true?" Caesar bristled and snapped back.
"Yes! I'm a genius! I am going to be the greatest Scientist!" The swordsman grinned.
"Then figure it out yourself." he resumed walking away.
Caesar glared at Muscle Head's retreating back.
How was he supposed to figure out the Straw Hat's motives? Caesar had nothing of value that the swordsman could want. Nothing that warranted a future favor. No mastery of science, black market connections or stupidly cheery pillows would be of interest.
He had made it obvious that training time was valuable to him. Why waste it on a prisoner? A mere pawn? Why!?
It wasn't adding up.
He looked up and saw that Muscle Head had resumed training. He had switched the wood blades in favor of massive bulky metal rods. He swung them about like swords. Moving through stances and attacks with grace and explosive strength.
"Are you going to keep standing there and looking pretty? Or work on your stance?" The green haired man smirked at him around a his training rod.
Caesar shot the other man a dirty look and sunk into his basic stance. Held it for a moment and then got out of it. Then went back into it.
The two continued to train for a time. The swordsman occasionally issued corrections and Caesar accepting them with a grimace or snarl.
The sun glided through the sky as the two worked. Gleaming with a passion down on the slumbering beauty, the sea.
An explosion made Muscle Head pause and look in the general direction of the crew.
"Looks like Franky is starting to get serious in Luffy's game. Alright, time to see what you've got." He grunted and discarded the huge metal rods only to replace them with wooden blades.
He strode over to Caesar and stopped just outside of blade reach.
A courtesy Caesar appreciated.
"So, how hard is it for you to make the air not breathable?" Caesar tilted his head in suspicion.
"Not hard at all. Why?" The gas man asked slowly.
"Even if it's not serious training, I could use more stress training. Make it so I can fight longer without needing to breathe. I'll attack your stance so that you work on your blocks and dodges while making it so I can't breathe. Let's g-" He was cut off by Caesar.
"Wait! You're going to put haki into those blades?" The swordsman smirked.
"Yup. You better develop your own haki or get good a dodging pretty quick or you're going to hurt like hell tomorrow." With that he lunged at Carsar.
The gas man squeaked as he tried to dodge the incoming blades. Only to be rewarded with getting hit several times.
"Get into stance Caesar. Focus." Muscle Head paused his assault to let Caesar collect himself.
"Better. Now the air. Make it not breathable." Caesar rolled his eyes but did as commanded. Oxygen sank and pooled along the floor.
Suffocating himself in the name of training.
Looks like being insane was a core requirement for joining the Straw Hat crew.
What happened next Caesar would easily call torture.
Muscle Head rained blows on the pale man. Caesar managed to evade some, block a scant few but for the most part was utterly failing.
He was now aware how much blocking incorrectly hurt. The force of the blow jarring bones, making limbs spasm.
Caesar praised his devil fruit power. While the swordsman's haki made being intangible to the blows impossible. He could use his power to make the flesh under the strike semi gaseous. Moderately reducing the pain.
Being Muscle Head's punching bag was still a miserable and painful affair even with his power.
Soon, Caesar gave up waiting for Muscle Head to stop or suffocate. Minutes had gone by and the Straw Hat was still going strong.
With each incorrect block and blow, Caesar's anger grew. How was beating him into a pulp helping?
After what seemed like the hundredth strike, Caesar released the oxygen and misted backwards. Putting space between himself and the swordsman. His anger well past the boiling point.
"What the hell?! How is this helping me? You're just beating me up!" The green haired man calmly regarded Caesar.
The pale man ground his teeth when the swordsman chose not to respond. Instead, he walked to the edge of the Crow's Nest, looking out and down at the deck below. Where chaos was in full swing.
"Some of the others want to help you. They think you need help. That we should give you a 'second chance'. I don't agree." He turned and pinned Caesar with an eye of stone.
Caesar's eyes narrowed. He met the swordsman's gaze and hunched forward defensively.
It was fine that the swordsman didn't want to help him. He had gotten this far on his own. He didn't need any help, didn't need anyone. He was a stronger person for it.
"Why, pray tell, do you think I am not worthy of your 'help'?" Caesar sneered.
"Because you're blind." Caesar blinked in confusion.
"That's rich coming from the guy with one eye." Caesar smirked and the swordsman shrugged.
"You're blind in the way that you choose to see what you want to see. Deaf to what does not match what you think. Fine, you've had a shity history, but second chances arn't given out for free. They're earned." Muscle Head stood strong, his words, just as cutting as his blades were.
"Then why help me with my stance?!" Caesar shouted.
"You asked." The green haired man stated, as if that was all that needed to be said.
Caesar fumed. This idiot Straw Hat made no sense.
"You just said that you didn't agree with the others, why suddenly help me just because I asked?!" His arms flailed about with the question and gaseous lab coat writhed about him in frustration.
"Because asking for help is one of the hardest things to do in life. I refuse to help those that don't try to help themselves. You are one twisted bastard but you're driven." Caesar snarled at being called twisted.
Well, excuse him for not being bat-shit crazy like the rest of the Straw Hats.
The swordsman regarded the pale man. His fists clenched, jaw locked, head tilted downwards and glaring at the ground.
He heard Muscle Head sigh.
"You trying to be the greatest scientist right? Get smarter and stronger. I respect that. I'm willing to show you how." The swordsman stopped talking and let the words hang in the air.
Caesar mulled over the words, his anger receding slightly. His suspicion still on guard, trying to find the holes or lies in the other man's words.
He looked up to try and read Muscle Head's face.
A lone eye captured gold eyes.
"I can show you the path, but you must be the one to walk it. The others are telling you answers, but it's up to you to listen to them... Do it or don't. It's your life." The swordsman stood solid, like a sentinel.
Caesar was the first to fold, his eyes darting away. Looking anywhere but at the green haired man.
Muscle Head was stronger than him. A monster on the battlefield. He was offering up knowledge and skills to Caesar for seemingly no price. There had to be a trick hidden in the offer or a hidden motive. However, no matter how hard he looked over the words, Caesar found nothing. His mind reeled in confusion.
"Why are you willing to help me if I ask?" Caesar asked in a defensive tone.
The swordsman took a deep breath, and waited in silence for a moment before responding.
"... You've been told the answer already, not just by me. Think of this like training. You don't have what you need to understand now. Train. Focus on keeping your eyes open. Listen to what the others say and remember it. Think, on it. Expand the boundaries of your mind. One day, you'll understand if you work towards it."
The memory of Chopper beside him, wilting under the weight of memories surfaced.
Caesar violently shook his head and snarled at the swordsman.
"No! Nothing is free in life. What are you after? What do you want in return?!" Frustration with an undercurrent of desperation colored his words.
He was met by silence as the swordsman stood stock still, his face a stone mask.
Caesar was oblivious to it but air cycled in the room with a dizzying speed.
"Fine. Pay me back." The green haired man stated and Caesar rolled his eyes.
"That's what I said! What do you want in return?!" The green haired man smirked and shrugged.
"I'll leave that up to you." Caesar gave the man a disbelieving look.
"Uh, that's not how trades work. You're supposed to name a price or service." The swordsman smirked and began to walk towards his weights.
"You don't say. Hmm, good to know."
He picked out one of the smaller weights, roughly the size of a barrel, and began to do reps on his left arm. Bringing the weight up quickly and then slowly letting it down.
Caesar issued a quiet growl.
Muscle Head wasn't taking him seriously.
A mistake many dead men had made.
He sensed air in his control vanish and a drop in air pressure.
Caesar spun around, looking behind him.
He saw nothing but a brightly lit Crow's Nest.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the green haired man had paused mid way through lifting and stared past Caesar. His eye alert, searching.
Muscle Head, with weight in hand, walked forward to investigate. The bright red benches and shadowy nooks were inspected.
"Huh, that was weird. What did you do?" Caesar sputtered a response.
"I didn't do anything!" Muscle Head continued to inspect the area and Caesar scuttled forward to look about as well.
"You sure? You've been letting your powers go nuts." Caesar now noticed that the air spun in the room with enough speed to feel like a strong gale. Parts of his semi-gaseous form had spilled on to the floor, slowly spreading across and all about the room.
"Even so! I can't just make air vanish from existence!" Caesar felt heat rush to his face as he forced the air to stop cycling.
"Luffy's brother could make fire appear and disappear. Can't you do that with air?" Muscle Head questioned him.
"I told you! I can't! I manipulate or transmute the air. Your flame user was most likely causing the oxygen around himself to burn. No fruit can destroy or create matter. That's a law of physics you know. At best, matter and energy gets shifted around. If there was a fruit that did destroy or create matter, then the user would be a god." The swordsman smirked in response.
"God huh? That sounds like that would be a fun fight." Caesar snorted.
"If you consider having your swords vanish, or better yet, your body vanishing fun, then by all means, fight. I'll even cheer you on." The swordsman surveyed the section of room one last time and then shrugged.
"Don't do that again, I don't like it when my ears pop." Caesar threw up his hands in exasperation.
"I didn't do that! I didn't!" The green haired man was back at his weights. Once more, lifting with an intensity and ignoring the pale man's denials.
Caesar huffed in frustration and examined the room. He didn't make air vanish from existence. Couldn't do that even.
He found the cheerful red benches, sitting innocently. Nothing beneath them. No panels, compartments or doors found. Nothing.
He looked outside and saw various Straw Hats dashing about the deck.
He saw a grouping of Straw Hats that seemed to be talking rather than playing.
Red Harpy, Franky, Brooke, Black Leg and Nico Robin stood in a small circle on deck.
He was too far away to make out their faces clearly. Lip reading was unfortunately not a possibility.
He wondered what they spoke about.
Probably gossiping like a group of old women.
They needed some hobbies. Seriously.
He spotted Chopper running with a turtle held above his head. He then threw the reptile at Long Nose, who artfully dodged.
The marksman carried his own turtle and loaded it into his massive slingshot. Aiming at the Captian that bounced amongst the rigging.
He watched the three younger Straw Hats try to hit each other with turtles for a few moments. He then rolled his eyes at them and went back to searching.
His eyes locked onto the cheerful pillow.
He gingerly picked it up.
It looked the same as it had on deck.
Caesar summoned air into a small but steady stream and fed it into the pillow. Carefully studying if the air stream collided with something unexpected or if it's composition changed.
Nothing.
"You like that pillow? Nami will be happy." The swordsman grunted while lifting.
Caesar paused. Red Harpy had placed this bribe? Interesting. He was stronger, smarter and better connected than her. She had much to gain if they became partners.
Too bad that he hated her.
Still, it would advantageous to know what she was after.
"This is from Nami? Did she say why she gave me this?" The green haired man shrugged in response.
"Dunno, I don't really listen to what she says during shopping trips. I just carry the stuff. If you wanna know, go ask her yourself." Caesar rolled his eyes at the swordsman.
He watched Muscle Head pick a new weight. This one the size of a horse.
"Why aren't you the captain of this crew? You're stronger and smarter than Straw Hat." The question made Muscle Head pause for a moment.
"He asked me to join his crew, not the other way around." Reps with the weight resumed.
"So what? Why haven't you become captain yet? Or is it Nico Robin that will become captain?" This made the weight stop mid way, and Muscle Head gave Caesar his full attention.
"He's my captain. He's going to be King of the Pirates. I'll cut down anyone that stands in his way. I gave him my word and he gave me his." The swordsman's eye sharpened to a dangerous degree.
Caesar's body shifted further away from it's solid state under the glare.
"How are you so sure? Some fortune teller tell you so?" Caesar's voice was weak in the face of the swordsman's ire.
The question hung in the air.
Caesar relaxed when Muscle Head resumed his reps.
"Fortune telling is all a load of bull crap. Luffy is going to be King of the Pirates on his own strength and with his crew beside him." The green haired man stated resolutely.
"That doesn't explain why you're so sure." Caesar said with exasperation.
"I'm sure because Luffy is Luffy." Caesar gave the other man an exasperated and confused stare.
That didn't make a lick of sense.
"What kind of answer is that?! That doesn't explain anything!" The swordsman sighed.
"It explains everything. He's Luffy, my captain, and he's going to be King of the Pirates." Caesar sneered.
"You know, if he wasn't immune to poison, I could have and would have killed him on Punk Hazard." The swordsman didn't even pause for a second.
"No, you wouldn't have been able to. Luffy is strong and you're not." Caesar snarled openly back.
"Look at me! Look at what can do! Look at what I've created! Look at what I've done! And you call me weak?!" Caesar flailed his arms and the air churned violently to match his temper.
"I told you, power and strength arn't the same thing."
"Yes they are!"
"No, they're not."
"Yes! They are!"
The swordsman stopped his rep and leveled a stern look at Caesar.
"They're not." Caesar growled in response.
"Then what's the difference!?" The swordsman resumed lifting weights.
"Power, is the ability to do things. Make things happen." Even deep breaths punctuated Muscle Head's words.
"Strength, is to stand strong when pushed. To look someone more powerful than you in the eye and tell them to f- off." Sweat made the swordsman's skin shine as he paused before continuing.
"From what I've seen from you. You don't have any. You're always the first to give. The first to run." The swordsman spat out the last part like a curse.
That made Caesar's hackles rise and responded in a low and cold tone.
"Forgive me, for wanting to keep living. Next time, I'll make sure to die instead." The swordsman sighed.
"That's not what I meant." Caesar glared at Muscle Head while he continued.
"While I would never run from a fight and, I'm not telling you to never run, but, how you always run, always give in, is a sign of a bigger problem." The swordsman stopped and paused, a steady eye, making sure he had Caesar's full attention.
"You are controlled by fear." Caesar gave a blank stare in response.
Then the horned man then dissolved figuratively and literally in laughter.
How utterly preposterous. Laughter consumed him. In the brief moments he was semi-solid, his arms clasped his torso, trying to hold together a chest that felt it would burst with mirth. His gaseous form spun in place, out of control. Vision fled and his laughter echoed in the room.
After what seemed ages, Caesar found himself kneeling on the floor. Gas pooling about him. Still trembling slightly from his fit. His chest, aching from both laughing and the sword blows from earlier.
He looked up with a grin and saw that Muscle Head had returned to his weights, completely ignoring the antics of the gas man.
Him. Controlled by fear? Ha. No. He was master of his own fate now - Or would be, if it wasn't for the temporary inconvenience of these crazy Straw Hats.
Dolfalmingo would make short work of them.
Caesar slowly gathered himself back together. The swordsman spoke.
"You done? Good. Time's up. Put your cuffs back on." The swordsman's voice was unyielding. Any and all amusement in Caesar shriveled and died.
The horned man looked at the cuffs sitting at the edge of the room. He wasn't able to suppress the whimper in his voice.
"Now? Is there anything I can do for more time? Anything?" Caesar unconsciously rubbed the rings of bruises on his wrists.
Muscle Head was silent for a moment, weights going up and down smoothly.
Eventually, the lone eye opened to regard the hunched form of Caesar, who gazed at the cuffs with a mix of hate and dread.
The green haired man sighed.
He put his weight down and walked to the edge of the room, looking up at the sky to find the sun.
"I was going to meditate 'till dinner, but that's about two hours from now. I can't clear my mind and watch you at the same time." He looked away from the window and back at the horned man.
Caesar bit his lip to hold back a biting comment. How does one clear something that's already empty?
Anything for more time outside the cuffs.
"I can keep you out of the cuffs longer but you have to earn it. You'll have to go another round of sparring with me." Caesar nodded frantically and quickly assumed a stance.
The swordsman smirked as he too sunk into a ready pose.
The two men clashed again.
Same as before, the blades seemed to know where Caesar was going or what he was trying to do.
He tried to pull every dirty trick he knew on the swordsman. Sudden air pressure changes. Gusts of air into his eye. Gaseous silhouettes. Everything.
All he got for his efforts was smirk or chuckle accompanied by a stinging blow from the swordsman.
The swordsman was right.
He was going to hurt like hell tomorrow.
But it was worth it.
Soon Caesar was soaked in sweat and panting from exertion. To his irritation, Muscle Head looked only slightly winded.
Caution cried in a dark corner of Caesar's mind as he coiled himself up for a charge at the swordsman.
Rather than being blocked and smacked to the ground, the green haired man stepped aside and let the horned man carreen past.
Caesar barely managed to stop before slamming into a wall.
He about faced as quickly as he could. With a hasty guard up and snarl in place.
There was no swordsman bearing down on him, instead, the Straw Hat was walking away calmly.
"Alright, that's enough for today. Cool off. Water is over there." The green haired man gestured vaguely towards the weights as he walked towards the small alter.
Caesar mentally threw curses at the Straw Hat's back while he dragged himself over to the water.
His body was a tired and aching mess, even his gaseous wisps failed to curl and just hung in the air limply.
Caesar watched Muscle Head as he took a moment of silence before the little table, the three incense sticks long burnt out, and made a deep bow.
After the bow, he collected his robes and swords.
Caesar eyed the katanas on the man's hip. Unlike the wooden training blades, those would cut him into grisly ribbons.
Caesar resolved then and there to be a, more or less, well behaved prisoner while in the sight of Zorro.
Caesar didn't much like the state he was currently in. Drenched in sweat. His hair even spikier and chaotic than normal. He could now feel his body aching from all the punishment the swordsman had doled out that day.
The pale man was sitting on the floor, well on his way to draining one of the water jugs, when the green haired came to his side. Seastone manacles in his hand.
Caesar felt himself wilt at the sight of the horrid cuffs. Dread pooling at the bottom of his stomach. He leaned away till his back hit the wall.
The swordsman held out the manacles expectantly and Caesar just stared at the vile contraption with hate and utter loathing.
Silence hung between the men, neither moving.
At last, Zorro shook the chains, making them rattle. A noise Caesar knew all too well by now. Caesar's glare deepened.
"Time's up for real, ero-cook will be coming out with dinner soon. We skipped lunch and if we skip again, he'll be on our case with Chopper backing him up. I dunno about you, but I don't like it when those two team up on me. Come on, let's go." He held out the chains further and the cuffs bumped into Caesar.
He hissed in response, feeling that biting touch for a moment.
Yes, he had to wear the cuffs again after some time.
But he hadn't promised to make the swordsman's life an easy one.
Also, there was no way, save threatened violence, that Caesar was going to put those terrible cuffs on himself.
No. Not happening. Nope.
He now let his burning gaze flicker between the manacles and the swordsman.
The swordsman sighed, noting the defiance and hate that gleamed in Caesar's eyes.
Zorro leaned down, his hand reaching out to grab Caesar's wrist.
A line appeared between the swordsman's brows when his hand passed through Caesar's arm. Gases swirling where an arm had been. The horned man smirked devilishly.
Zorro's eye hardened as the skin on his hands blackened with haki. This time he grabbed the pale wrists and unceremoniously slapped the seastone cuffs in place.
Caesar's world shrunk.
He could no longer feel the atmosphere, the air as it traveled and ricocheted off the environment. The outer portions of his body solidified into clumsy flesh. He could feel his strength pouring out and into to seastone on his wrists.
Caesar snatched his arms away from Zorro once the latter finished locking the manacles. He curled away and snarled at the swordsman.
Zorro met the malice radiating off Caesar with an even stare.
Neither man yielded and Caesar mentally raged at the Straw Hat.
Zorro sighed.
"Stop it, it's not like you can't have time out of the cuffs later." Caesar snapped back.
"When? And what do I have to do for that?" Caesar watched Zorro through narrowed eyes.
The muscle bound pirate shrugged.
"Dunno, up to you. When do you think you'll be ready to come back up here and go another round with me?" Caesar frowned, he already was hurting from today's beat down. Tomorrow was going to be a special kind of hell for him.
He groaned internally. The pain and dealing with Zorro was worth the temporary respite from the seastone several times over. He'd be back in the Crow's Nest, as soon as being able to move wasn't an issue.
It seemed that the swordsman had no trouble reading his face and smirked down at him.
Suddenly a fist was speeding towards his face.
Caesar squeaked in alarm and recoiled from the incoming blow.
It never came.
He cracked his eyes open and saw that the fist had stopped a few inches away from his nose.
"If I squint, that almost looks like a block, better. Next time, if you close your eyes, I'll give you two hits for the price of one." With that the swordsman turned away and began to walk towards the elevator plate in the center of the room.
Caesar blinked and then scrambled to get up. He didn't want to be left in the Crow's Nest.
He hustled over to the edge of the room and collected his cheerful monstrosity of a pillow. Stumbling when exhausted muscles spasmed.
By the time he turned around, happy cushion in hand, the swordsman had already disengaged the platform and it was starting to descend.
Caesar rushed over to hole in the center of the room and looked down. He found Zorro smirking up at him.
"Better hurry up and jump, or I'll tell Sanji that you want kale in your drink tonight." Caesar snarled.
The descent was slow, platform roughly ten feet below him, getting farther away with each moment that passed. He didn't have his powers, a drop like that could hurt him. Or better yet, a little push from Zorro and Caesar would be dead with the convenient cover story of an accident.
Kale was seriously nasty though.
"Too scared to make the jump?" Zorro's calm voice floated up.
Caesar saw the challenge gleaming in the lone eye.
Hell would freeze over before he just let anyone win without a fight.
"If you tell Black Leg that, and I'll say you want herbal tea for dinner!"
Caesar made the leap.
Author's Notes:
3AM - One Piece is a long journey, though I have some qualms with a few decisions, I can easily say that I have enjoyed watching this band of misfits set out and I have become a better person for it. It is a great amount of fun till the time skip. Ah, will there be romance? Depends on where my muse decides to go and what reviewers say. At this point in time, Caesar is quite jaded and not capable of things like trust, hope and other more noble aspects. Without these things, love would be quite difficult. However, I'm nowhere near done, maybe the Straw Hats will manage to beat these things into Caesar.
Holy Guacamole Batman! - Wow, I thought I had gone way off the deep end with last chapter but you folks really liked it! Zorro here didn't get much Romanticism, I don't think the word 'romantic' is even in his vocabulary. He's rather gruff and stand-offish so it doesn't suit him, but once he decides to move, he gets things done.
One Piece Treasure Cruise - Dudes! This mobile game is like Pokemon for this fandom! The perfect game to play when you have five min before a meeting or you're standing in a line. If you haven't downloaded this game yet, I urge you to try it out!
General - You guys have been amazing. Your feedback and support has helped me weave this tale more than I can ever say. I read and treasure every review. I keep them in mind when I plan future chapters. Next up, Luffy, Future King of the Pirates!
