I have never played with a crossover, but I was curious about it.

I do one of two kinds of fics: the ones in which I focus entirely on the lore (The Bigger Picture), and ones where the story is collateral for me to explain the Lore (Revolution, Unbound).

Worm isn't that much interesting to play with in regards to the lore, since it's very well explained, and the story in itself it's kind of fixed, given the nature of Scion that imposes a hard, close end to the Worm book. AU or not, unless the author goes 'ok, in this fic won't happen because I say so', the end conflict must be against Scion.

I don't do that. The whole point of my fics is to explore the existing lore, not creating a new one.

So, these two characteristics simply stop me from starting an SI, or simply an AU with an OOC or new OC. Taylor wins in the end because somehow she manages to force a second trigger and 'trick' Scion.

Here the crossovers come to mind.

I have several plot bunnies for Worm in mind, all centred around a failed trigger of Taylor.

I don't know if it makes sense for anybody but me, but a trigger is a process through which the [ENTITY] plants a shard inside of a human. To do so it must create a connection, but a connection can't be established until the [human] is open to receive said connection. During the Trigger, [human] gets opened to form a connection with [ENTITY] which uploads the shard into the [human] before closing said [human] and thus severing the connection until the death of the now host of the shard.

Why do I think it works this way? Because the two space slugs are seen only during the trigger and forgotten immediately after.

Now, to put the MC in a condition of somehow fight back Scion (impossible unless with a cheated second trigger through Panacea), in my head at least, something must go [ABERRANT] during the trigger: either opening the MC to something different than a Shard, or ... stuff that you'll find out if you read the following fics.

So, while a Naruto crossover it's classical, it's already being done by several authors, and quite well in my opinion, so I'll leave it as it is.

So... I'm left with PJO and One Piece, personally, I find the idea of having a PJO character as a Cranberra's Case would be better than having him or her as Taylor's power.

So: One Piece, in particular, some strange shit is about to go down.

AND YEAH, I ONLY SOMEWHAT OWN THE IDEA OF THIS SPECIFIC CROSSOVER, EVEN IF IT WON'T DO ME ANY GOOD.

AWAKENING

It shouldn't have been possible.

It couldn't even have been allowed.

How could it?

Even for them, this was beyond horrifying.

She had known there was something wrong as soon as she had returned to school.

She knew something had been done to her locker, it wouldn't even be the first time. But this...

She even somewhat expected the disaster inside, but to be shoved in and locked inside said disaster...

From the moment she had been tossed inside, there hadn't been any room for 'I knew there was something wrong' or 'I should have expected it'.

There was no room for thought of any kind, everything was squashed under pain-panic-hate-despair.

Taylor Hebert screamed, only to immediately gag and fail to suppress the urge to vomit as the smells overwhelmed her, to trash wildly when she felt 'them' crawling on her legs, over the open cuts caused by her savage flailing, skittering over the metal doors of her coffin, buzzing too close.

It couldn't be real, but even that last hope found no way to survive inside of Taylor's mind.

The blood on used tampons gave a sharp tang to the air, while the rancid scent of her vomit meshed with a vengeance with the strangling flavour of stale shit and acidic piss. All that happened in the dar, the thin beam of light that managed to climb its way inside the locker from the edges of its door was just enough to give her tearing eyes awareness that something was moving over her. No, not something, several somethings, skittering, climbing, biting, burrowing, tearing, stinging, hurting.

Disgust quickly left the way free for Panic to rise, Fear and Rage both surging forth, the second building after the first as the walls felt

In the smell of vomit and toxic waste, of despair and panic and not-enough-room-can't-breath-help-die-I-wanna-die that completely encompassed the girl, Taylor broke, and her being opened to something... beyond.

Vast, amidst the star, moving impossibly in a fractal nightmare of twin raising spirals, there was something beyond the realm of human thought, beyond the scope of mortal understanding. But even in that moment of impossible and blessed detachment from reality, that impossibly brief sliver of time, the body of Taylor Hebert failed, her heart stilling over the overload from her panicked vegetative nervous system, her mind blanking out over the convulsions shaking her body, her muscles spasming out of any form of control and limit, she distractedly felt her teeth biting on empty air so strongly that her molars cracked, but by then, Taylor Hebert was dead.

As she died, [ENTITY] retreated the [Queen Administrator] that it was about to load into the cracking being of the [Potential-Host], and if it could have, it would have felt dissatisfaction with the loss of [Potential-host]. As [Entity] abandoned any attempt to complete the releasing of [Queen Administrator], and the equivalent of its attention crumbled away from the [Potential Host - Deceased], something else walked in Taylor Hebert through the open connection left behind.

Taylor Hebert didn't realize that she was dying, how could she? And yet she was aware that something was about to end. The primordial state of [SURVIVE] her mind was into didn't realize anything beyond the metal coffin that was related to the something which was about to end.

No living being truly understands the concept of death, of the end, of no-more. It can't, because the very definition at the base of every living being is to be and to refuse the not-being. Oh, humans have come to realize it in their thoughts, some even think that they accept death once it comes, but it's only a lie built and perpetrated to reassure both themselves and th ones around them.

For the same reason people can't hold breath long enough to die, the [Primal Mind] at the core of the human being doesn't accept death. The human body will always choose life over death. Cells burning resources to live just a little longer, unconsciously gulping when water is poured in your mouth.

As she died, the last corner of conscious thought of Taylor Hebert realized that it was done for, and while it surely refused the idea of death, it scampered through itself, madly looking for anything, a hope, a way out, a secret trick to turn the panic-inducing situation into something that couldn't be real.

As her body trashed out of control, her tongue swollen from the lack of water and the acidic presence of vomit almost suffocating her as she didn't manage to breathe, impossibly, her three dimensional being crossed the opening left from the multidimensional being that she could have glimpsed if she survived her trigger, and she was gone.

"MEDIC!"

"Who is the girl?"

"Don't know, I want to..."

"...w she got on the ship?"

"..relevant, maybe a spy?"

"..hat body? Don't make me..."

"...s said to help her, it's enough... "

"...fficult, I've no idea if..."

"..ry."

The sound washed over her body without causing any sort of reaction, even if the last seconds of electrical signals running in her nervous system reacted accordingly, and some areas of her brain flashed as an answer to the environment's input.

Taylor Hebert was firstly aware of a gentle lull, almost if her mother was once more holding her, singing a lullaby without words, but the realm of unconsciousness never fully let her go, making her feel around her with the same blurry dizziness of those walking the thin line between wake and dream

Her senses, unfocused and swirling, reported said slow lull, along with the sound of scuttering feet over solid wood, a constant crashing sound that reminded her of her walks on the Broadwalk back when she was a girl accompanied by both her parents and... her. Even in the not awake-not asleep state she was in, she decided that her thoughts were straying where she didn't need them to.

Slowly, without her full consent, the other senses slowly trickled in the stream of data her brain was dealing with. After sound, came touch: she felt warmth and a cloth a bit rough around the parts that she felt were almost exposed to the air, while her forearms and feet were clad tightly in what she imagined were bandages of some kind. She felt her chest expanding and lowering against a light weight resting over her, and breathing, she recognized smells coming in. Bitter herbs, smoke, wood, sweat, likely her own, and, deeper, almost hidden in the nook and crannies of everything that entered her nose, saltwater.

Blinking, she discovered that she had eyes, and as the environment around her came to be, her eyes could only recognize warm colours that matched the idea she already had of the room: she was resting over a bed at what she imagined was the far end of a room, but not an ordinary one: given the succession of beds, the smells, and the few people scuttering around, she recognized it as being an infirmary, but with the lulling, she associated the bright round holes in the otherwise dark brown of the walls to portholes.

Why the fuck I'm on a ship? wasn't quite her first thought: given her confused state of mind, lack of glasses, and general soreness, she first thought something along the lines of 'GRUELBGHR?'

"Oh, you're awake!" a blurry shape declared at her side: "The doctors cleared you up three days ago, but you've been on the line for a while, come, hop-hop, Pops will want to get a look at you."

Her eyes didn't quite manage to make out the exact shape of the man that was talking to her, but she thought that Pops was a strange name for a boss to have: "Pops?"

"Yeah, well, Pops for us, you'll likely know him better as Whitebeard." she could feel the sheer pride that the man felt when speaking the name of his 'pops' and still couldn't quite figure out what the hell was going on.

Taylor awoke to beeping sound that was all kind of annoying, and unfortunately not one she was unfamiliar with given the fights she survived by the skin of her teeth, when she opened her eyes, she failed to understand where she was. And that more than everything else that could have forced her to take an immediate stock of her situation, made her brain jumpstart its functions, shedding the last mist of her dreams and allowing her to properly observe her surroundings.

She wasn't home.

There was no lull, no familiar smells, no heartwarming presences blazing with strength and inner fire.

Her hand moved and found a pair of glasses exactly where her other senses had told them they were, on a bedstand near her head.

As her eyes finally managed to see properly, she realized she was in a hospital room, and as she rose to her feet, she felt smaller than she was used too, and yes, that included her chest, it was almost like...

A single thought of impossible terror blanketed her mind for a second, causing her head to whip towards the window and take in the city below: Brockton Bay. A weight settled on her chest, causing her to fall kneeling on the ground as her mind tried to come up with a reason to justify losing everything she had, it hadn't been real... it hadn't...

Then her eyes fell on her hands: a round scar on her hand that she remembered taking in her first week with her family, when a stray bullet passed it from side to side as she ran around like a headless chicken, not knowing what the hell was going on.

The knowledge that she had indeed been shot, paradoxically, calmed her down, and as she checked within herself, she found that, while her body felt weak and feeble, she was still herself. Stumbling, she rose to her feet and basically crashed through the door that led to the bathroom in her room, where she quickly untied her hospital gown and stared at her reflection in the mirror: her front was as littered with small scars as she remembered, proof that she had survived the worst the world could offer facing it like her father, and as she turned, tears of relief rose without control to her eyes: proudly standing in the middle of her back, there was a Jolly Roger with a half-moon right over the grinning teeth, with a manji proudly covering the rest of her shoulder blades, upper and lower back.

It had been real.

My family is real.

AN

Originally, Withebeard's Jolly roger was put over a 'manji' = 卍 which is the mirror of a swastika (卐).

In the manga, for commercial purposes, Whitebeard' Flag had always been portrayed with his Jolly Roger over a bone-cross, and Oda had been forced by the higher-ups at Shueisha to change the flag of the Whitebeard Pirates in order to match the one in the anime from Chapter 434 onwards.

And since I'm a hardcore regarding freedom of speech for all the artists that clearly aren't spreading hate messages, I kept the original flag in this fic.

And it's also a clever and subtle expedient that allows me to set up a shitload of stuff down the line. Shut up and stare in wonder at my smooth plot-introducing skills!

So... I've blatantly jumped over the years that brought Taylor from awakening on Whitebeard's ship to carry his Jolly Roger on her back, along with the gaining of several scars. Why?

1) I'm not sure about her devil fruit, if giving her the Phoenix, the Yami, or Fujitora's one. Leaving out the story allows me to leave her powerset secret for now and play around with character-building immediately, justifying her modus operandi and mentality through flashbacks forward in the story. (Ideas for her Devil Fruit?)

2) I felt like it.

I'm not sure about keeping this fic going, but I really wanted a OP-Worm crossover, and this one is a good starting point.

My alternate one is with the my MC from Unbound trying to escape the One Piece's reality after he has conquered the seas and I can't squeeze anything else from his story, and only to not make him OP from the get go, I picture him being snatched up by [ENTITY] and dropped as a power-shard into Taylor with my standard starting chapter for Worm-crossovers.