To a reviewer a while back who said Delta was a little white... have you seen One Piece? Unless I'm mistaken, Franky, Zoro, Brooke... most characters have white names. Sorry, that just got me really worked up when I read it. No hard feelings.
Also, please review. It makes me very happy and I'm sorry I never update.
Chapter 10
At sea for weeks. Weeks and weeks. Probably.
The food was nearly gone, at least.
And all he'd found was water, water, and more water. And he didn't have a map, not that it'd help. He couldn't read maps.
Who's stupid idea was this, anyway?
He caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. In less than a second, his arm had stretched and rocketed into the ocean, grasping the fish like some overpowered fishing claw. He reeled in, crushing the life out of the fish as he pulled.
He winced. Constantly shoving his arm in the water was starting to get to him. So with one hand, he cut apart the little fish while letting the other arm lounge about, the sun slowly evaporating it's coating of water.
Delta popped the mostly rescaled fish in his mouth, swallowing noisily. Raw fish- not as good as Sanji's cooking, but he took what he could get.
If one doesn't puke, the taste is fine.
Such is the life of a poor, extremely powerful soul, lost at sea in the East Blue of all places. He'd made jokes of the kind before, but he really, really didn't want to die in East Blue, if only because Gol D. Roger had done it first. And Delta was no copier.
A news coo flew overhead.
"Oi!" Delta yelled, waving his hand. "Over here!"
Newspapers usually bored the crap out of him, but hey, desperate times.
The little white bird took a nosedive, easing off perfectly to land on the boat. In its claw, the paper. Delta reached out to grab it, only to be swiped at by a claw.
"Right," Delta muttered. "Payment." He tapped his chin. "Bird, I don't have any money…"
The coo readied to take off.
"Wait! Wait! Let me finish, I don't have any money, but come on, you gotta' be hungry, right? How about I give you a fish, right now. No one needs to know."
The coo, though easing its position, stared at Delta neutrally.
"Okay, I see. You're a tough one." Delta lifted his hands for dramatic effect. "Two fish." Its stare screamed bird annoyance. "Red fish, blue fish? Wait how about three? Four, no five!"
It was interested, he could tell. "Yeah, think about it, five whole fish, right now, for just one measly paper. You like that? Hm?"
It straightened its wings, finally nodding slightly.
Delta grinned. He activated his observation haki, directing it toward the water, and picked out the five closest, decently sized fish.
His arm stretched, much to the surprise of the coo. "This is gonna hurt," he muttered to himself. and he fired, snatching the five fish in a powerful strike by the way that only a Pirate King could. And as he dropped the fish to his feet, panting in hidden agony, he swore the news coo would've clapped had it had hands.
It tossed him the paper, scooped up the fish in its sack, and flew away.
Delta stared at the neatly tied news. His head dipped.
He'd just bribed a bird. He really needed to get out of this ocean.
-o0O0o-
Bore, bore, bore. What a waste of time. Newspapers sucked. Stupid stuff like, Morgan Takes Over as Head of News, and Water 7, Pirate Haven?
Lame. Guess it's not really news if it's in the past.
He almost didn't even turn to the last page. Luckily, his ocean boredom outweighed his newspaper boredom.
And right there, waiting to be seen, was the childhood photo of Nico Robin.
DEVIL CHILD NICO ROBIN SPOTTED IN EAST BLUE!
The breath caught in Delta's throat. He couldn't take his eyes off the photo, even to read the article. Sure, it was her as a child, but it was Robin.
This was the first time he'd seen any sort of anything about his old crew mates since, well, when was he not in the past?
It'd been so long. And he hadn't so much forgotten what they looked like, but little things, like which eye Zoro had cut, or what type of brown Chopper's fur was, they were simply a wispy memory of a before time with no value in his current reality.
They, for all intents and purposes, weren't real anymore. Poof. Didn't exist.
But here was Robin the Archaeologist. Chased by the World Government, friend to none, sole translator of the Poneglyphs, and she was real. In East Blue.
Delta laughed, and laughed, and the laughter turned to tears because he had to remember now, everything he'd lost since coming back here, all the people who'd never met him, and the crew he would never willingly leave behind. He missed them. It didn't matter if it'd been years, they were his crew, and he'd never forget.
He read the article.
The final touches of red were about done fading from his eyes when he looked up. She was on Mango Island.
He didn't know where Mango Island was, but he would find if it was the last thing he'd do.
He tucked the remaining food he had on the boat into a little sack he brought with and pulled it over his back.
A determined gleam refused to dull as he shot into the air, boat cracking with the force of the air pressure. With speed he hadn't attempted in years, Delta soared through the air at jet like speed, refusing to stop until he found an island.
Lo and behold, with the distance he was covering in so little time, it didn't take long. He paused, looking down at the patch of land. Not enormous, but there was a pretty sizable town down there. Surely someone could direct him.
Delta dropped from the air a little out from the towns range. Wouldn't do to make such a freaky first impression.
As he walked through the town, something seemed noticeably off. Namely, there weren't any people to inhabit it. And yes, they were actually there, he could sense them all with his observation, but the fact that all of them sat locked away in their homes felt wrong.
Course, he'd seen this before. Either the marines were stationed here, or there were pirates.
He was surprised he hadn't noticed the presence of either of them when he landed, but of course he was in a weird state of mind at the time. … nine minutes ago. Maybe he was still in that state. Meh, it'd be fine.
He walked into what looked to be a restaurant, what with the chairs and tables and whatnot, but with a distinct lack of people. Well, at least a mustachioed bartender was still there, a food the room, behind one long table. Not that Delta drank much, but bartenders always seemed to know what was what, and info was currently his main priority.
The bartender had frozen at Delta's arrival, staring with nervous tension, polished glass in hand.
"Hello," Delta said. "You're not too busy, are you? I'm in need of some help."
"Who are you?" the man asked, rather neutrally, all things considered.
"Name's Delta. Now, I got a couple questions. First, do you by any chance know where Mango Island is? Or where I could buy a map? Anything really would help."
"You should probably leave here," the man said instead of answering. "But best avoid Mango Island too if I was you. I hear Nico Robin's been spotted round those parts."
"Well, if I can't stay here, and I shouldn't go there, where should I be?"
The bartender shook his head. "Wish I could tell you, but way I see it, this Pirate Age's gonna' last till there's not a one person without that question in their head."
"That's some pretty smart thoughts, guy."
"Terry, if you don't mind." He leaned down onto the bar, looking up at a clock over in the corner of the room. He sighed. "Whelp, some god must really hate you."
"Why's that?" Delta asked.
"Let's put it this way- there's no need for you to leave now, the danger's come to you."
"And what danger is that?" Of course it was pirates, but confirmation was key.
"It's high noon. Go outside, see for yourself."
Delta nodded, turning and stepping away. The door closed behind him, while he turned to the sound of increasingly loud chattery laughter, the only sound in the whole ghost town.
Okay, so yeah, pirates. Twenty or thirty at least, of all shapes and sizes, wielding guns and swords, ready to loot. And with observation, he saw a ship hastily anchored over at the coast. A few pirates were even still there, doing the finishing touches.
Ah, so that was why Delta hadn't noticed a presence. When he arrived, they weren't even on land.
He pulled his right arm to his torso and stretched. Time to beat up some East Blue punks, then off to Mango Island. Maybe with the pirates out of the picture, the town'd be more forthcoming with directions.
He walked toward the group until they finally noticed him. It took a shockingly long time for that to happen.
Delta sighed. He was in East Blue, he shouldn't be expecting even a modicum of real resistance.
The group stopped, staring at Delta for a long moment. He decided to wait it out, see if his visage intimidated them enough to leave, or if they all were truly as stupid as they looked.
Guess which one it was.
"Our first victim- er, I mean, taxpayer!" the short, chubby one in front guffawed, causing a chorus of laughter to erupt from the others. Shorty raised his sword. "You're a new one, I see. Well, beware the might of the Krieg Pirates!"
Delta's brow scrunched.
Krieg…. ? Wait, he'd heard that before… they were someone… someone weak… hmmmm…
His eyes widened. "You mean big lips, purple hair?" That guy had been around this long?
"Don't mock the Don like that!" Shorty shouted. "He's the most powerful man in East Blue! With a ten million beri bounty, he makes the very sea tremble!" The crew continued shouting and stomping in agreement. A real raucous, really.
"Um… okay. Well, would you all leave please? I need some help and you're scaring these people. And if you don't, I'll have to kick the crap out you, and you don't want that, so…"
Shorty, the only one Delta even cared to look at, glared. "I don't cares if he's a taxpayer, kill 'im."
They charged.
-o0O0o-
BEEP BEEP IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: THE BATTLE WAS SO LAME THAT IT'S NOT EVEN WORTH WRITING. AND ONCE DELTA FINISHED WITH THEM, HE WENT TO THE SHIP, BEAT UP THE OTHER PIRATES, AND SUNK THEIR SHIP WITH ONE FIST. SO AFRAID, THE PIRATES TOOK A TINY LIFEBOAT AND ALL PILED INTO IT IN ORDER TO ESCAPE. BEEP BEEP ANNOUNCEMENT OVER.
-o0O0o-
Well, that wasn't at all interesting, Delta thought as he walked back to the town. Standing outside, staring with wide eyes, was Terry. And a bunch of assorted townsfolk.
"What are you?" Terry asked in awe.
"Delta, the pirate. But see, I'm a good pirate. Not a hero, but a good pirate." He laughed. It felt good. He really didn't laugh enough anymore. He used to be so chipper.
"You know Terry, you seem tough. You should be a good pirate too. The Mustache Pirates, with you as captain, sailing the high seas, drinking as much as you want and doing whatever you want. I see it."
Terry looked away, a speculative look on his face.
To the rest of the growing crowd, Delta yelled, "Hey! Does anyone know how to get to Mango Island? Maybe a map? Maybe someone who can read maps?"
As the crowd began yelling various answers simultaneously (how unhelpful), Terry placed his arm on Delta's shoulder. "If you're a pirate, that mean you have a crew?"
Delta smiled softly. "Used to. Now, it's me, myself, and I."
"Got a ship?"
"Used to. But I had to ditch it, and flew the rest of the way here."
Terry's mustache twitched. He ignored that last bit.
"Lucky you, I got a ship an a bit o' map skill myself. If you want, I could get you to Mango."
"Sounds like a plan. But seriously, you're not joining my crew. You gotta' make one yourself. Later, obviously."
Terry frowned. "I didn't ask. And you don't have a crew."
Delta grinned. "Exactly. And, at least for now, I'm keeping it that way." He turned away, walking dramatically down the street. "Still, doesn't mean I can't have a temp or two."
"You're going the wrong way," Terry called.
Oops. Delta turned around to find that everyone was watching him. "I'll follow you then."
"Sure you don't want to stay for the night?" He jabbed a thumb at the crowd of excited folks behind him. "Way it sounds, there's'a be a party tonight, what with the pirates gone and all, and you could be the guest of honor."
Delta shook his head. "No can do. I really do have to be at Mango as soon as possible. I'm meeting someone there, but I really don't know how long they'll stay there."
"Nah, I gecha," Terry said, waving his arm. "Let me just grab some of my good stuff and we'll be off."
A few minutes later, Terry walked out of his bar with a sack full of what looked like bottles and bottles of alcohol.
"And what's in the bag?" Delta asked.
"Essentials. Clothes, some water, bit o' food, and a couple bottles of liquors."
Delta sniffed. "I can smell the alcohol from here."
"Tad more than a bit, then." Terry began to walk off. "You need to be there soon, right? Then let's go!" He laughed.
It was a fishing vessel, vastly bigger than his old boat, not that that was much of an accomplishment. It even had four hammocks below deck.
"Pop used to be a fisherman, taught me everything about sailing I know. When he passed, he passed it on, and here it's sat ever since." Terry gently stepped onto the boat, causing it to moan out a creak. "I don't use it much, so be careful walking about. Who knows if one of these beams have gone weak after so long."
Yeah, it wasn't a great ship. Nothing like the Sunny whatsoever, or even the Merry. Not even close. But it had charm. And he was sailing with Handlebar Terry, future pirate extraordinaire, towards Mango Island to find Robin.
Delta laughed again for a good long while. And he really didn't laugh enough anymore. Maybe he could change that.
Terry stood at the helm, gripping the old wheel in his hands. "By my estimate, we'll be at Mango Island in, dunno, half a day maybe? Bit less?"
Delta's eyebrows shot up. "We're that close? Awesome!"
Terry chuckled. "I said earlier a god must hate you. Maybe I was wrong."
Delta laughed again. It was such a good feeling. "Maybe."