A disaster, a natural or unnatural chaos, utmost tragedy of nature with people rushing in and out in order to clean the battlefield.
To put it simply the deck reminded her more of a shipwreck after a murderous tornado with only the steady albeit also having suffered from the attack masts being the standing proof of the victory. The sole remainder of the previous pirates were the specks of blood that left a bitter aftertaste in the atmosphere.
The merchant captain, in all her glory at the age of 55, her dark blue outfit covered with blood from her victims, stood proudly with a stern face at the other end of the deck, a white sling securely wrapped around her left arm. Truly impressive for an old lady like her to stand ground with such fierce attackers, from what Ann had gathered through the floating rumors.
The two girls having come from the left side from the mess hall, pretty much away from the serious conversation between the captain and first-mate, a suntanned guy mid-30s with a saber attacked to his hip, whom they didn't get to know better apart from some basic introductions during their 2-days stay, and two other unknown people.
For now Ann managed to stagger to the railing, being exhausted to stand from probably motion sickness, Erika firmly putting her hand from the grip on her back. Their position was rather close to the giant ship which some parts she saw through the window during the attack yet seeing no danger apart from the curious glance and loud commands to get things in order, she didn't care.
That was when the first information came circulating to the two. Out of a nasty habit Ann strained her ears to the ongoing conversations of the people rushing between them.
"Have you heard-"
"Yea, the Whitebeard pirates-"
"Two commanders helped us."
"Truly a miracle. Now they are discussing something."
"I overheard that they are going to escort us to the next island."
"Probably a mission or something. A lookout or scouting."
"Idiot, didn't you know WB himself recently proclaimed Busket island and the ones around as his territory."
"Maybe that's why they're gonna get us back."
"Or not. They can just-"
"Hey, look the commanders are on our ship."
"No shit, genius-"
With that Ann ceased her little eavesdropping to get a better look at the 'commanders'
"Judging by the titles, the WB pirates must be well-organized. Mighty, powerful and probably resourceful with the islands Whitebeard proclaimed," she analyzed from the rumors and what she saw. Her brain would have to come up with a better 'relaxing' exercise than listening in on other people's talks.
She scanned the people and ship despite its mightiness in form and size. The flurry of the crews, busy getting back their cargo, commands to get back to work, repairing the damages, cleaning the blooded parts and carrying various things or escorting the heavily injured to the infirmary, to which Ann heaved a relief to hear no one was killed and the few ones lazing around for a small pause making small chats between the merchants and pirates.
"So they mean no harm. Good," she noted mentally before adding with a sign. "Better help out." Not that she was any less green in her face or in top form but it would suffice to do smaller things. It was wiser to do something than constantly worrying about bigger unnatural objects, interactions or imagining people like the very blue-skinned man-like creature talking to the captain far in the front of her whilst being on the left side as them.
"No, it's more like a creature-like man," she thought absent-mindedly.
Ann furrowed. Something didn't sit right.
She concentrated on the two unknown people on the other side of the ship, near where the planks connected the two ships which was the main reason as to why she had to put an effort to see through the crowding crewmates hurrying with some wooden boxes, from the WB ship to the direction of the mess hall. She shook her head and looked again, relieved that her view was partially not covered by some other guys.
Something really wasn't right with the seemingly important picture of a conversation.
One of the probably commanders was a tall, at least 2 or 3 meters, bulky man with wide shoulders whereas the other…
"Are these gills?" She tried to get a better look at the people, taking a few steps forward and deeply squinting her eyes. In her numb state she didn't realize the stretching worry on the redhead features or the tightness of a grip on left shoulder or how the mumbled voices of distress of "Miss, are you alright?", "Please, sit down." , "Don't go that way."
"Can you hear me?" At the question a hand waved in front of her face. Yet the motion was discarded for the grating on her nerves thought of these peculiar people.
The all-too familiar feeling of anxiety seemed to have rooted itself into her very core and deep into her every bone.
Coupled with the previous nausea and panic coming from the battle which her modern 21st century mind couldn't comprehend it didn't make for a nice mixture.
Then life and time stopped. At least for Ann.
Her gaze shifted to the man with black short hair.
A long serious face with black stripe-like patterns for a beard and hairstyle, the blank expression void of emotion, at least it looked like that from her position at the railings nearby the far end of the ship yet close enough to get a better look, very visible bulking muscles partially covered by the heavy dirty green and black armour with the red points of shoulder pads and the glint of silver or gold belt and black combat-like boots.
An obvious tension resided in his aura executing a kind of menacing pressure. Or her mind was in a sadistic mood to add more to her rising blood pressure.
That much she could get from her position only affected by the oncoming bouts of shivers and nausea slowly making its way to her.
The picture despite its impossibility due to the shock of his height than his rather unsightly/frightening appearance reminded her of some old pictures of Aztecs or Terakota soldiers.
She tried to shook off the growing apprehension which gnawed her consciousness, so she quickly settled her gaze onto the next person.
That wasn't the best course of action. Albeit more comforting than the previous giant.
Hump-backed with a protruding shark fin, the jaw set to the front with teeth sticking out from the mouth, the very obvious gills on his neck on which a visible black 8 was tattooed, spiky black hair and an equally disinterested yet more lively from the conversation expression. The attire was better to take in as it consisted of a simple white-blue shirt with a red something, from what she could see between the people and some pants though that she couldn't quite see as his shortness made it more difficult to discern his appearance.
But he seemed to have a less pressuring aura around him or it was due to his smaller hefty shape. Though the crossed arms, straight posture and the business-like manner certainly did make up for the lack of height.
It caused yet another internal problem.
She didn't know whether to be glad of her good eye-sight and the short experiences which during her long stay here sharpened her mind regarding looking at details or she should curse her mind for feeding her eyes some strange visions.
She closed her eyes, air pumped to her lungs as she took a breath. Her favourite motion as of recent time.
When she opened them again, the same sight greeted her.
A giant in terms of probably everything and a fish-like man.
Now she didn't know if all her experiences weren't but a simple nightmare.
It just couldn't be possible.
Well, that was also the very first thought when she arrived in this world.
As if these two figures looming there and holding a normal, but serious conversation were a trigger for her mind.
So trivial to all the people around yet so important for her.
It was as though their appearance cracked a damm inside her releasing the pent-up water of her memories since the moment she arrived here. It all came crushing down without a halt.
The first island, the walking on the sand in search of a way to go home, the hunger pangs of going on for the first week without a proper meal, the storm and her bloodied feets, the victory of seeing a town with people after Ann's long isolation, the bailing out and first encounter with Erika, running away and setting sail, the sudden rescue, the nice words and proper help, the ensuing battle and the aftermarth of all the bottled-up feelings of denial which only now realized she had these for the whole time.
Realization dawned on her for the first time, not counting the previous currents of panic and a small yet alive hope of maybe getting back home.
Now that hope simply shattered to pieces. Or vanished without any traces left behind.
Everything came rushing up to her like lava and ice. From something such simple as a giant and a merman in her mind.
Scorching hot to steal her breath yet sending chilling shivers down her spine at the same time.
It didn't make sense at all.
For all that she vowed to keep her cool and try to make the best of the situation. Why would she get another panic attack shortly after the one before?!
Why?
Why?!
She simply didn't know. Didn't know much about this world or the people or the laws of nature. Only that certain rules simply didn't apply to the Earth where she had lived.
Prime example: the people before her very eyes. They talked, breathed and she didn't have to touch them to be sure that they were living beings.
She wasn't sure what her feelings were apart form the untangled mess or whether her decisions and actions were right or wrong.
But now...
She at least was sure, no, absolutely certain of one unwrapped and solved mystery which she hadn't been aware of till this moment.
"It's all real."
Her words mumbled at first to which the forgotten Erika leaned towards her with a pale shade, visibly insecure of what had transpired in her savior's mind to get such a strong response.
In a stupor Ann, her eyes glazed over, repeated as on automat in a louder voice.
"It's all real!"
The reaction surprised Erika as she took a few steps backwards, only stopping at the railing. Her eyebrows shot up, her palms brought up just in case to help or more in an attempt, not knowing what to do.
Additionally Ann's voice gathered some more curious glaces than she would have like if her sanity didn't take such a violent turn.
And with last conviction barely holding back her emotions, with a slight excitement that strangely mixed with the terrifying crack in her voice, she regained her grasp on her new-found reality.
Her face turning a rather nice shade of palness.
"IT'S ALL REAL!"
And like that she leaned over and puked onto the already filthy deck having not enough strength to haul her sorry head over the railing.