Cold Encounters
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but I do own Draconian.
Draconian sat behind his desk, the pile of wanted papers in his hands. His feet were planted on the desk's top as he leaned comfortably back, rifling through the many papers.
The words of Mr. Seven still rang in his mind from the other day. It seemed that the "company" known as Baroque Works had actually been broken up a few months ago. The unknown leader of the group, Mr. Zero, along with all of his top members, had been beaten pretty badly by a group called the Straw Hat Crew.
Now, this little fact had perked up Draconian's interest quite a bit. This little person known as "Straw Hat" Luffy was making a nice name for himself pretty fast. Draconian just couldn't wait until he could catch up to this strong adversary.
Another interesting fact came up during Draconian's and Seven's little "discussion." After Luffy's crew had taken down Baroque Works, it had been revealed that the leader was in fact on of the seven Shichibukai. Or at least, he was one of the Shichibukai; after hearing about what he had done, the World Government had fired him from his position and arrested him.
A few weeks after getting captured, however, Crocodile had escaped from the marines, going back out to where he had originally headed up Baroque Works, an island named Alabasta.
From there, he had brought Baroque Works up once more, except that this time he could barely get enough people to hold everything together. From what Seven had told him, it seemed that the company was barely holding up nowadays. They didn't have as many members as before, and a lot of the stronger members were taken out completely in the battle with the Straw Hat pirates.
All this left Draconian with the urge to go to the island where Croc was hiding out and take him down. It would definitely be a nice challenge, seeing as the man was formerly a member of the Shichibukai.
And now Draconian sat, searching through his pile of papers in hope of finding a certain picture.
He found the wanted after about a minute of searching. The paper was brown and looked very old, it seemed as if it was about to fall apart. This was expected, though, as it was printed before the man had become one of the seven.
Beneath the picture was printed the name CROCODILE, which stood above a bounty of 81,000,000 beli.
Draconian shook his head roughly and looked at the paper again. After a few seconds of looking at the numbers, he was sure. It said eighty one million, definitely a nice bounty. Of course, now that he thought of it, the man would need a high bounty to become one of the seven.
The picture showed a man with black hair, slicked back, and a large square face. A scar ran horizontally from one cheek to the other, running right over his nose. His face seemed set in a small, relaxed smile, a cigar poking out of his mouth.
As Draconian stared over the picture, he couldn't help but noticing the man's calm expression. It sent shivers up his spine, this man was dangerous, and from what Draconian could tell, very cold in what he did. For him, this only meant one simple thing to Draconian.
This man, Crocodile, was a worthy challenge.
So, placing the rest of the papers down, Draconian got out of his chair and walked around his desk, pinning the paper next to his picture of Luffy.
Walking back to behind his desk, Draconian took notice once more of the giant book which he had taken from Misty Peak. From the title, he'd thought it would produce some kind of map of the whole, or at least a good section of, the Grand Line. Sadly, though, it was just filled with maps of different islands.
Draconian picked the book up and flipped through, staring at the many pictures. Halfway through, though, the pictures stopped, leaving only blank pages.
Not what he had hoped for, but at least it was something, even if it wasn't much.
Draconian plopped back down on his chair, staring at the pages as if he expected something to just appear. He sat like that for a few minutes, until a small thought popped into his head, growing quickly to something big.
He didn't have a log book yet.
Now that the idea was clear in his mind, he started to roll it around, liking it more and more every second. It would be nice to have something like it, just for fun, maybe even to pass on to a child one day. Also, if he came upon a new island, he could just draw it into the book to add some more knowledge; being a pretty good navigator had given him a pretty good skill at drawing maps, even if it wasn't the skill of an expert.
So, giving a chuckle, Draconian turned to the first blank page and took up one of his nearby quills, dipping it into a newly opened bottle of ink and lowering it down to the paper.
Draconian leaned against the back of the dragon head, his eyes concentrating on the sea in front of him.
The last few days had been pretty hectic, weather wise. The temperature had been on the fritz, so to say, resulting in very annoying weather. Quite a few times Draconian was faced with big waves or storms, which he tried his best to avoid.
Thankfully, he was able to skirt the edges of the storms and dodge the waves with ease... well, maybe not ease, but enough skill that he could survive without any serious damage.
Luckily, the weather had calmed down the day before, the temperature even staying steady, although very cold. He had heard about this during his previous travels; it seemed that each island in the Grand Line had a different "season" to it, even being different in time zones for some. And judging by the temperature, the island he was coming up to was going to be a winter one.
At the moment, Draconian was wearing a black leather trench coat, the length of it going down to a little over a foot below his knees. The thing was buttoned up, leaving everything above his waist to be covered and the rest of the coat to casually fall around his legs.
The reason for this wasn't really to protect him from the cold, seeing as the trench coat itself didn't have any inside lining. Instead, Draconian had radiated heat from his body and was using the coat to keep it constricted instead of just floating about everywhere.
Upon putting it on, Draconian had to take the scimitar off his back so the thing would fit. Afterwards, he put it back on, which felt a little uncomfortable at the moment.
With all that taken care of, Draconian now stood at the front of the ship. He didn't really suspect any odd weather, but there was still the chance; besides, it was the Grand Line.
The other reason for being out in front of the boat was so he could spot the island. Seeing as the weather had evened out the day before, there was a good chance that the island would come in view in a little bit.
And just as if it had heard his thoughts, a small thing of solid white appeared on the horizon. Of course, Draconian wasn't able to make out any features seeing as it was so far away, the only thing that the island revealed about itself was the white, which proved his theory of it being a winter island.
With a sigh of satisfaction, Draconian stood up strait and stretched, his body rewarding him with some good cracks from leaning against the ship for so long. Once he finished stretching, Draconian hopped up onto the dragon head, his leg dangling over the side as he comfortably waited to get to his next destination.
While he waited, Draconian picked up the Lock Post lodged into the top of the head and placed it into the inside pocket of his trench coat. He would obviously need to bring it onto the island so that it would pick up on the magnetic force.
After placing the Post into his coat, he dug around some more in his pockets and took out his pair of sunglasses, slipping them on over his distinguishing eyes. No need to take the chance of causing an unnecessary stir.
A while of waiting upon the dragon head revealed a little more shape to the island in which Draconian was coming to. The first thing he could make out was three lone shapes, too far away at first to make out. After a good while of waiting, though, they could be made out into three giant cylindrical shapes made out of what was most likely ice. At this moment, Draconian was close enough to the island to make out the snow covering the island and guess at the land's size. Taking that in mind, each cylinder of ice was as tall as a mountain.
Now, at first Draconian's eyes were drawn to the towers, immediately recognizing something like them in the book he picked up at Misty Peak. If he was correct, this was an island called Drum. After a while though, after continually getting closer to the island, his eyes were drawn away from the towers towards the actual snow. At first he hadn't noticed much, but something had caught his eye and once he was close enough he was able to make out what it was.
Much of the snow was pink.
The edges of the island were white with snow, but the farther you got into the island the pinker it got. Of course, there was still white scattered around the pink, but it was still an odd sight to behold.
All the pinkness was kind of hypnotizing, the color mixing with the white boring into Draconian's brain, drawing his thoughts away from the island as he stared into the unusual snow.
It seemed like he could look in the snow forever, pondering the mysteries of how it could turn this color, until an explosion jerked him out of his reverie. He tore his gaze away from the snow and looked around at the island in front of him. The snow had distracted him so much that he hadn't realized how close he had come to the island. By now, it'd only take a few minutes to actually reach the shore.
Smoke issued up somewhere to the left of Draconian's position. At the moment, the place was too far away to make out any clear details, but it from what he could see it looked like there was some kind of ship near the shore.
Another explosion ripped through the air after a small flash from the ship, obviously as a result of a cannon. The smoke was issuing from the land right next to where the ship was docked.
A little voice in the back of Draconian's mind told him that it wouldn't be too good an idea to move his ship over there. That voice was a little something that Draconian called common sense. So, heeding its advice, Draconian got off the dragon head and turned his ship to the right in search for a good place to dock.
After a while of sailing he found an ideal spot in a little inlet leading into the island, much like the one in Misty Peak. It only took him a few minutes to dock the ship, a result of over a years worth of sailing experience, and soon he was off and headed towards the area where the explosions were.
As he walked towards where he guessed there was a battle, Draconian scanned the land to see if there was any sign of habitation. Now and then he would spot the outskirts of a village, a stone wall or maybe some small houses lined up. But no matter how hard he looked he couldn't see any actual people, the same would probably be true even if he actually walked right into the villages.
His steps were calm, casual, as if he were taking a stroll along a beach. Heck, in a way, he was taking a stroll along the beach; this island probably had no sand at all. With the sea to his left, the only reason that this wasn't a hundred percent relaxing was the fact that he was heading towards explosions.
So instead it was only about, say, ninety-seven percent relaxing.
At moments like these, other people would probably be running right towards the fight in worry; either that or running in the other direction. Of course, Draconian didn't really see what was up ahead as something to worry about. Whatever it was, he'd probably get through it just fine. Besides, there wasn't really a reason for him to care anyways, this wasn't a problem concerning him, it was most likely something related to the islanders.
In other words, it wasn't his problem, so there was no reason for him to worry at all or even give a shit.
With these feelings and thoughts in tact, he didn't even flinch after walking over another snow covered hill to see what was going on.
Docked near the shore was the oddest ship Draconian had seen. It was made completely out of metal and looked like a big dome, except for a flat area where people operated the ship. It wasn't a pirate ship, if it was then there'd be a skull and crossbones flying on top. People in padded coats, mittens, and warm hats poured over the railing at the ships edge, while many others stayed at the railing with rifles.
On the ground there was a crowd of people just as big, armed with guns, pitchforks, and many other items. Each person was unique in their look, not as ordered as the ones on the ship, obviously the villagers. They fought back the tides of crewmen with vigor, holding them at the small area of snow.
Wounded bodies littered much of the field, their comrades fighting right on top of them. The villagers fought much harder than the crewmen, taking many down on the ground. However, the crewmen on the railing constantly rained bullets on the battlefield, taking down many a person. This resulted in a standstill.
Draconian surveyed the battle field a little more closely. There didn't seem to be anyone standing out in the crewmen, meaning the captain was standing back. The villagers, however, had a clear champion.
At the head of the procession, standing right where the two groups collided, was a huge man scattering anyone who got close. His body was thick and tall, his biceps wide. Draconian couldn't see his legs, but he was sure they'd be strong. He wore a green shirt with yellow bands completely covering his arms.
But that wasn't why Draconian was interested in him.
Every square inch of skin showing from the clothes he wore was completely covered in black fur. His head was big, stretched a little out in front like a snout. Two short horns stuck out of the sides of his head, curling a little upwards. In other words, he looked like a buffalo standing on two legs.
When Shanks had told Draconian about the Devil Fruit, he hadn't just showed him what one looked like. He had also talked about all the different classes. Draconian himself had an elemental class, or something like that; he was supposed to be able to turn his body into flames so that physical attacks wouldn't do anything, but for some reason he couldn't. This man, however, looked like one of the zoan class; they can turn their bodies into that of an animal. They even have a form between human and animal, which is what this man was obviously in at the moment.
Draconian had definitely stumbled into something interesting, and if the captain of the vessel was a good challenge, then that meant he'd also come into some good training.
With the attitude of someone walking through a park, Draconian jumped down the hill and walked towards the two battling forces.
The battle raged all around him, but Draconian paid it about as much tribute as he would leaves blowing in the wind. Of course, a few times he'd knock one of the crewmen out when they tried to attack him, but all he really needed to accomplish that was an absentminded punch or kick.
In no time he reached the man heading the townspeople, casually standing beside him as if they were in a casual conversation. AS he stood beside him, he was able to see the weapon he was using. It was an odd looking thing; the handle looked like an upside down T, the blade shaped like a broad paddle with a curved end.
Draconian reached up and tapped him on the shoulder, in which he responded with a commanding bark. "What's the status with the rest of the villagers?"
"No idea, maybe you should ask one of the townspeople." Draconian responded back. "Hey, you guys need any help?"
The buffalo man gave a sidelong glance at Draconian, immediately turning back once he had gotten a good look. "Never seen you before, you from a different town or something?"
"Nope, just docked. I saw the battle and thought you guys might want some assistance."
"Sure, we can use all the help we can get, you any good?"
As if on cue, one of the crewmembers took a stab at Draconian with a bayonet. Not even glancing at him, Draconian grabbed the bayonet out of mid air with his left hand. He then yanked it out of his hands and flipped it around, stabbing it back down into the man's knee. As the man fell down to his knees, screaming in pain, Draconian spun around and delivered a hard kick to his head, dropping him completely down.
"Yeah, I'm okay."
"Good, I need some help holding the line here, too many people are getting past in my opinion."
"Hmm," Draconian rubbed his chin in thought, at the same time kicking a guy trying to sneak past. "One thing I need to know first. Where's the captain of this ship?"
A growl escaped the man's lips. "That's no captain; he used to be the king of this island but was overruled. He keeps trying to take it over, but so far hasn't been successful. He's up on the ship, away from the danger like a coward."
"Thought so. Now here's my idea, you and the rest of the villagers stay down here, okay? I'll go up there and get this thing resolved in, say, a few minutes, okay?"
Deep chuckling escaped from the man's mouth. "Sure, I'd like to see you try."
"Glad we agree. Now, what does old kingy look like?"
If the man-beast could've cocked an eyebrow, he would have, but instead settled for giving Draconian an odd sidelong glance. "All you need to know is that he's the fattest person on the ship, he'll be easy to spot."
Draconian gave a small nod and turned to face the ship. "Thanks for the info; I'll see you in a few minutes at the most." He started to turn to face the ship, but looked back. "Um, if I were you I'd duck."
This time he was actually able to cock an eyebrow as he turned his head to face Draconian. "Huh?"
Instead of answering, Draconian's hand snapped out with lightning quick speed. A small whistling whipped through the air, immediately followed by a small thud as Draconian closed his fingers around an arrow; the tip was just an inch away from the man's face.
"Next time I give you some advice, it'd be best if you took it." With that, he squeezed his hand, snapping the arrow in half, and turned once more towards the ship.
He reached up and slipped the sunglasses off, putting them into his inside jacket pocket. Once that was done, his right hand once more reached up and took a hold of the scimitar's handle. It slowly slid out of it's sheath as Draconian bent his knees, putting his left foot forward and his left hand forward, palm out. He took a deep, calming breath as he raised the scimitar above his head, blade pointing towards the crowd as he readied his fighting stance.
With a wild shout, Draconian dove into the mass of rushing bodies. The scimitar flashed in every direction, scattering bodies with each sweep. It took a few seconds for the crowd to take notice of him, which only meant that they lost even more people to the dangerous blade.
As soon as they took notice of him, most of the crowd immediately turned to the black figure of doom striding through their ranks. They tried to attack him, pressing their ranks over his lean body, only to have their attacks dodged by Draconian's speedy and aerobic moves; and then getting blown back from the scimitar's swift strikes or Draconian's own feet and fist.
To someone standing a good distance away, it would look as if there was a train or something scattering bodies as it drove forward. That was how fast Draconian was heading through the crowd toward the ship. It had only taken a quarter of a minute to make it halfway through, not a single scratch even grazing his trench coat.
In less than a minute, he had made it to the shore of the island, the metal plating of the ship just feet in front of him. It would be difficult for him to get up there with everyone crowding around him; so, taking his sword, he flipped the blade upside down. After grasping the handle with both hands, he plunged the cool metal into the ground.
Immediately, a dome of fire erupted from the blade, smashing into the people around Draconian and sending them flying. This left Draconian with a charred clearing a good twenty five feet wide.
Fire erupted from his feet as he pushed off from the ground, launching him straight up. He landed easily on the railing of the ship, left hand holding onto the metal bar for support as his right swept the sword towards the nearest crewmen.
His eyes quickly searched the ship, after a second finding the person that the buffalo man had mentioned. He was definitely a wide figure, probably about as wide as he was tall, although that wasn't saying too much since he was a little shorter than the average person. His whole body was covered in what looked like strips of metal armor, but they looked like they were pretty thin, so getting through them wouldn't be a problem. A cape made out of polar bear fur adorned him, the polar bear's head closing over the top of the man's own. Purple hair stuck out from under the bear's mouth. And as for the man's own mouth, it looked as if it was made completely out of metal, starting from under his nose and proceeding down to a cylindrical chin, the only thing not metal between the two points being his teeth.
Once more fire erupted from Draconian's feet as he jumped forward, launching him over the heads of everyone on the ship. His body went into a blurring spin, the scimitar held straight out.
After getting past everyone on the ship, his body fell down, aiming right towards the former king. The scimitar led the way, angling towards the man's head with the added momentum of the spin. "Dragon Sweep!"
The man's mouth opened wide, bigger than it should have. The top and bottom stretched from above his head to the top of his stomach. The big gaping hole could have probably swallowed a person hole if they went head first.
Before Draconian could finish the attack, the giant teeth clamped onto his scimitar, completely stopping him in his tracks. It was hard for Draconian to tell what seemed weirder, the fact that his attack was stopped like it was or the fact that the man's mouth had just turned into one of those wind-up teeth things. There was pretty much only one thing that could summarize his thoughts.
"What the hell?"
A growl escaped the man's lips, soon followed by a jerk of the head as he tried to snap the blade in half.
Instead of dwelling on the man's odd abilities, Draconian let his fighting instinct take over his body and mind. He pushed off the ground, moving with the man's mouth so as to keep his blade whole. Soon he found himself right above the man as he tried to bend his head completely backwards.
Draconian tightened his grip on the handle, letting the fire inside him flow out onto the blade. Once it completely covered the blade, Draconian increased the amount of fire, moving it into the man's mouth.
The man let out a strangled shout and let go of the blade. As soon as the scimitar slipped out, Draconian brought his foot back and lit it in flames. "Dragon Sledgehammer!"
He brought the foot down and slammed it against the side of the man's head, sending him flying across the deck of the ship and launching Draconian back to land on both feet.
Before Draconian could do anything else, two men stepped between him and the former king. One of them wore warm orange clothes, his hair was puffed up into a black afro and a beard ran along his chin, small balls of hair that looked just like the afro lining it. On his hands were what looked at first to be black boxing gloves, but on closer inspection revealed themselves to be just two balls of the same afro-like hair.
The other man was even weirder than the first. He was decked out in clothes that a jester would wear, the top completely covering his head so that only the circle of his face showed. His face was the stupidest thing Draconian had ever seen, the mouth actually shaped like a big squiggle. In one hand was a bow, the quarrel of arrows on his back.
"How dare you hurt King Wapol!" The jester shouted out in a high-pitched, whining voice.
"Yeah man, you don't just mess with the king like that, we'll have to teach you a lesson." The odd afro man put up his hands in a fighting stance.
Draconian cocked an eyebrow and gave a chuckle. "King? From what I've heard, you aint on the throne anymore."
The former king, Wapol, pushed himself up. "Such insolence, I shall always remain the king of Drum, no mater what anybody says."
"Hmm," Draconian gave a spin of the scimitar and slipped it back into the sheath. "Just curious, how many times have you gotten your ass kicked on this island? No need to answer, I just want to inform you that you'll be adding another number to your list."
Wapol's eyes widened in anger. "How dare you show such defiance to a king! Chess, Marimo, kill this man now!"
"Yes sire!" The jester, most likely Chess considering the pattern of his clothes, reached behind him and grabbed an arrow. As he set it against the string of the bow, the tip lit up in flames. Pulling back the string, he released the thing, sending it soaring for Draconian's heart.
Letting out a bored sigh, Draconian casually raised his right hand. With a small flick of his finger, he sent a small wisp of flame, barely even noticeable, in the direction of the oncoming arrow.
As soon as the wisp touched the fire on the arrow's tip, the flames spread to encompass the whole shaft. The arrow tipped down, heading straight for the ground like a small comet.
With a small clatter, the arrow landed on the deck of the ship, the wooden shaft just a pile of ashes. The arrow head, the flames dying out on it, skidded to just an inch away from Draconian's foot.
Draconian gave a mocking grin. "Ahh, and you were so close too."
The squiggly mouth set itself into what Draconian hoped was a growl, because if it wasn't... well let's just say he didn't find those kinds of thoughts comfortable.
Chess reached behind himself once more and pulled out two arrows, plucking them both on the bow and drawing back.
Draconian held back a small chuckle as he looked at this man's pathetic attempts at attack and distraction. He didn't have his eyes totally on the odd man, he had noticed the other guy's, Marimo, movements.
In an instant, he bent completely backwards so that his spine was parallel to the ground. Two puffy black balls sailed right over his body, passing easily a foot over his face.
As he righted himself back up, Marimo had refilled the two balls of hair on his hands. By this time, the flames on Chess' arrows had come up. Both men launched their two projectiles at the same time, putting them on a collision course.
Each arrow sank into one of the balls of hair, creating two flaming orbs heading Draconian's way.
A cock of the eyebrow was all that Draconian could express for this event. "What, you guys haven't figured it out yet? Oh well, guess I'll have to teach you this the harder way." And, raising both hands, Draconian pointed a finger at each orb and let out two more small wisps of flame.
Once the wisp touched the orbs, the fire grew so that each ball was almost as tall as a person. The balls split up to go to either side of Draconian's body, doing a loop-de-loop to head right back where they came from, their speed doubled.
The men weren't fast enough, so the flaming orbs smashed right into them, sending them flying back to land at the feet of Wapol.
For the second time, Wapol opened his mouth wide. The teeth closed over the bodies of Chess and Marimo, pulling them into the wide mouth. Interestingly enough, they didn't really seem to struggle that much, only giving the odd groans of complaint and "not again."
For one of the few times in his life, Draconian's jaw dropped as he witnessed the event before him. "Oh... my... god."
After a good while of struggling, Wapol was finally able to swallow the two men, sending them down to his stomach.
The look of shock on Draconian's face soon changed to disgust. "What the hell did you just do?"
A deep chuckle emanated from the man's mouth. "Oh, don't worry, you'll see soon enough." After a few seconds, he opened his mouth up once more.
From the gaping hole of his mouth flew out the oddest thing Draconian had seen. It looked as if the two men had been combined. The body was wide and thick, two arms sticking out of each side. It was decked out in what looked like a stretched out version of Chess' clothes. There were two circles of faces, the one on top being that of Mario's, while the one just below being Chess'.
Oddly, the body wasn't covered in saliva.
"Behold, the power of the Baku Baku factory!" Wapol let out a laugh as he gestured at his new "recruit."
Seemingly out of nowhere, the giant figure took out four axes, one for each hand. "Now," both heads said at once, "witness our awesome skill."
The axes swung in a series of movements, ending with each axe swinging outward. The strength of these moves created a wave through the air, heading right towards Draconian and cutting right through the deck of the ship as it passed.
Draconian blew back the left side of his coat, crouching down as he did so and grabbing the handle of the katana with his right hand. Fire already covered his hand as he slipped a little bit of the blade out of its sheath. "Dragon..."
All the while, the wave had passed by most of the deck, leaving a long crack in its wake.
"Slash!"
The sword struck forward, flaming blade crossing paths with the deadly wave. The air exploded in a wind of force on contact, the strike completely destroying the air wave and scattering it like wind scatters leaves.
As soon as all remains of the wave had faded, Draconian started forward in a run. He bent down a little and picked up the arrow head with the middle and index finger from his left hand. Fire immediately erupted along it once the two fingers closed around it.
He drew the arrow head back a little and flung it forward, sending the flaming projectile back to its owner. Before the two could comprehend what he was doing, the flaming arrow head had sank into their right knee, sending them down in a howl of pain.
Draconian already had the scimitar back out and in his left hand, continuing the headlong rush towards his fallen adversary. Both swords came up from his sides as he shouted, "Blades of the Dragon Brethren!"
The two could barely get their axes back up in response, the sudden pain slowing their reflexes against the quick attack. It only made it all the easier for Draconian to smack the pathetic defense aside and strike at their body.
The flaming blades struck in a blur, going every which direction and striking the body in more places than could count. In only a couple seconds, Draconian had run past the two men as if they were just a wall of air, leaving behind a fallen and bloody body.
"You're next, fat boy." He moved the swords so that they crossed horizontally over his chest, the blades sticking out at opposite sides.
Wapol raised his arm in defense, which no longer resembled an actual arm but... a cannon?
Draconian couldn't stop now, he had too much momentum and was already in his attack. The only thing he could do now was finish and hope he could withstand the attack.
He was within a foot of the cannon when it fired, creating a giant cloud of smoke as it did and completely covering Draconian and Wapol from sight.
For a couple seconds there was silence, until it was suddenly interrupted by Draconian's shout.
"Dragon Wings!"
From the far opposite side of the cloud erupted Draconian's body, flaming swords now uncrossed and raised to their respective sides. He was down on his left knee, his body covered in smoke and definitely looking beaten up.
"Note to self," he said, "cannons hurt."
Deep laughing emitted from the now dispersing cloud of smoke, revealing Wapol's shaking body. He turned around to face the beaten up Draconian. "Surprised? That's the power of the Baku Baku Fruit. I can eat anything, and anything I eat I can turn into. So, do you want to give up, whoever you are?"
For a few seconds, Draconian just sat there, gathering his breath. At first, the chuckling came out raspy, slowly gathering strength until it became a small laugh. Casually, he turned his head to look back at the former king, his eyebrow cocked and a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Two thing. One, the name's Dragon, got it? And two, don't be so damn cocky, I'd look down if I were you."
A stupid grin stretched across Wapol's face as he started to laugh once more. The grin, however, completely vanished as he looked down, seeing the line of blood going straight across his chest.
With a speed suggesting he didn't have any injuries at all, Draconian leapt right back up to his feet. He ran straight towards the distracted Wapol, jumping as soon as soon as he was close enough and setting his feet aflame. "Dragon Comet!"
Keeping his body completely straight, Draconian did a front flip through the air, twisting his body to add more momentum, and slammed both feet into Wapol's face. The impact sent him flying back, landing with a big thud on the deck.
Draconian landed in a crouch, bringing the scimitar up to his shoulder and intensifying the flames. "Dragon..."
Before he could even get out the next word, Wapol sat straight up. Various guns appeared along his shoulders, arms, and chest. They all let fire at the same time, sending a destructive wave of bullets in Draconian's direction.
With reflexes befitting a startled deer, Draconian jumped to the side. He frantically switched the position of his scimitar, putting it out in front of him and spinning the blade. "Whirlwind!"
His original lunge dodged a little over half of the bullets, with the spinning blade taking out any more that came close. The fire grew to Draconian's own height, completely blocking him from view and allowing not a single other bullet past.
After a short while of this, the bullet rain stopped, allowing Draconian to lower his defense. Not only had Wapol stopped firing, but Draconian was now facing his wide back as he turned tail and ran towards the shore.
"Hey!" Draconian shouted, "Get your fat ass back here!" He tried to run after him, only to be stopped in his tracks as the remaining crewmen stood between him and their escaping "king." Instead of getting angry, Draconian just surveyed the crowd calmly. "If I were you, I'd get out of the way, otherwise I'll have to make you."
Not a single one of them budged, instead raising guns and other weapons. This caused Draconian to sigh in exasperation. "Okay, I warned you." He reversed his grip on the swords and raised them up. He then rushed forward, reversed blades back, flames growing bigger by the second. "Dragon Run!"
As he hit the crowd, Draconian pushed the blades forward, handles frontward to act as a wedge for the people right in front of him. The swords cut right through everyone at his side or pushed by the handles, clearing a path for him to easily get through.
In seconds he got through the crowd, stepping right up on the rail and jumping back down to the snowy shore. As he went through the air, he noticed Wapol's wide body running to the left.
Once landing on the ground, Draconian took off in the direction Wapol had taken. Instead of forcing his way through the crowd, Draconian would just jump right over anyone in his way, sometimes using their heads as stepping stones.
He wasn't the only one following Wapol. A few seconds after leaving the crowd, the edge of the crowd exploded as a big group of the crewmen were thrown through the air. Out of the mass ran the buffalo man, immediately turning right into his full buffalo form and rushing in the same direction as Draconian.
In no time, the man had caught up with Draconian, forcing him to run all out just to stick close to him. He turned his head, speaking through the buffalo's lips. "Stay back, Wapol's mine and nobody's taking him away from me."
"Well," Draconian responded back, "sorry to burst your bubble, but he's mine, I started the fight with him and I'm going to finish it. Besides, I always get the people who run away from me."
The man snorted and turned his head back to the run. "Fine, if you can get to him before me, then you can have him." And with that, he sped up his feet and started to edge farther than Draconian.
"Fine then," Draconian muttered, "if you want it that way." He slipped his swords back into their respective sheaths and jumped forward. Giving a boost of fire with the jump, he sailed over the man's body and landed on the top of his hand.
Immediately, the man shouted in annoyance and tried to shake him off. "Get off of me! I told you, Wapol's mine, I've waited too long!"
Draconian took a firm hold of the horns and wrapped his legs around the side of the neck to get a firm hold. "Oh, stop struggling, I just need a ride." In response, he shook his head even fiercer, almost pushing Draconian off a few times.
This time it was Draconian's turn to shout in annoyance. "Fine!" He slipped his right leg out from it's hold on the neck and raised it above his head and lighting it in fire. "If you're not going to be cooperative, then I'm just going to have to make you! Dragon Meteor!"
The foot came down and smashed against the man's forehead, making his legs buckle in pain and sending him crashing down to the snow. Draconian jumped off before the body landed, hitting the snow in an all out run and leaving the man behind to struggle to get up.
Fire once more erupted from his feet, giving his run an extra oomph and turning his steps into bounds. It took him a few seconds, but he was finally able to see Wapol's wide back. "Man, he's quick for a fat guy."
At first, he thought that he'd have to chase him for a while more before catching up to him. Those thoughts erased themselves from his mind after he saw the icy ground before Wapol.
He had chased the man up to a ledge made completely out of ice and, from what he could guess, leading all the way down to the sea. It stuck out far above the sea, a giant wedge of crystal extending from the island.
Standing at the foot of the ledge was Wapol, who immediately saw that he couldn't turn around and run in another direction before Draconian got to him. This only meant that he had to face him head on, a fact that Draconian was much pleased with.
So, seeing only one option, Wapol spun around and raised both arms. Each one turned itself into a cannon and let out an explosive blast, smoke coming out of them like two giant snakes.
Draconian leapt above the blast with a blast of flame from his feet. His body started to spin as he did a small flip, adding momentum as his leap took him all the way to Wapol himself. "Dragon Comet!"
This time, the feet slammed into the man's chest, once more pushing him down to the ground and skidding a little across the ice. He got back up quickly as Draconian landed on the ground, guns once more appearing all over his body and firing.
Again, Draconian vaulted into the air, taking the high road to avoid the attack. As the guns turned themselves upwards, he tucked his legs up and moved the scimitar underneath, spinning it to protect from the bullets. With this protection, he safely moved over to Wapol, his body falling from above towards the top of his head.
The spinning blade missed by about a foot as Wapol stepped back. His katana, however, came in fast as a snake to strike at the man's side. A clang rang through the air as steel hit steel, the blade of a sword sticking out Wapol's arm to intercept the katana. A grin spread over the man's face as he brought the guns to bear, even adding a few more to his arsenal.
Oh, if only he remembered the scimitar.
"Dragon Star!" Draconian snapped the scimitar up, sweeping five times with the flaming sword to carve a star into the man's body. The small second of shock and pain was all that Draconian needed to jump a third time into the air.
The guns shot just as his feet got above Wapol's head. As he came down the other side, Draconian wrapped his legs around the back of Wapol's neck, fire erupting along their lengths. "Dragon Whirlybird!"
He leaned forward, twisting his body around as he did so. The fire grew along both of their bodies, spinning around in a mini vortex along with Draconian's twisting body. Draconian pulled Wapol along with him, raising his heavy body up into the air. As Draconian rolled into a landing, he gave one strong pull, twisting his legs back straight as he did so and bringing Wapol's spinning body down hard.
As Wapol started to shakily get back up, Draconian jumped back up and into a crouch, back towards Wapol. "Dragon Kick!"
His foot snapped out and slammed into Wapol's chest, sending him flying across the ice to stop about ten feet from the edge.
With another burst of fire, he shot up into the air, heading right towards the cornered man. He flipped once, bringing his right foot up after completing and increasing the flames. "Dragon Meteor!"
He slammed his foot down just as Wapol ran underneath him, missing the fat man and instead hitting the ice. The force of the blow created a crack that ran from one side of the ice to the other. Draconian frantically backed away as the tip of the cliff fell off.
He turned around quickly, bringing his swords up in a defensive position. Wapol was standing quite a ways back, both arms turned into a cannon and a mischievous grin on his face as he pointed them at the ground.
Before Draconian could do anything, both cannons fired, creating a huge cloud of smoke as the projectiles slammed into the ice. Immediately upon impact, the ice crumbled from beneath Draconian's feet, too fast for him to jump back onto solid land.
Wapol threw back his head and laughed as he saw Draconian's head bob below the smoke. As he laughed, the impenetrable smoke drifted up and pretty much obscured the air right in front of the cliff. He didn't pay any attention to this, just continued on laughing at dropping the stupid kid down to the icy waters.
Only to stop cold as the smoke cleared.
Standing right in front of the broken cliff was Draconian, his arms crossed in annoyance to match the expression on his face. Fire blasted from the bottom of his feet, keeping him afloat in midair. He gave a small roll of his eyes and raised one of his eyebrows, giving Wapol a look that would usually be accompanied with a sneer. "You're an idiot, you know that?"
His answer was an angry growl as Wapol raised both cannons, aiming at the floating Draconian. Before he could fire, Draconian turned to the right and swung his body up, keeping his legs tightly together and completely straight. "Dragon Wheel!"
The cannon blast went right underneath Draconian as his body turned completely upside-down. His legs finished the swing, both coming right down on Wapol's forehead. That wasn't the last of the pain, however, as the swords followed the feet, both slicing from his shoulder to the halfway down his leg.
Draconian abruptly stopped the swing as his body was once more standing on both feet. He reversed the direction of his swords path, bringing them right back up to slash the right side of Wapol's body, making parallel lines to the previous slash.
Before he could do anything else, multiple guns appeared once more along Wapol's body, letting loose with another barrage. He turned his feet to the side and blasted off to the left, slipping his blades back into their sheaths as he did so.
The fire emanating from his feet suddenly went out, dropping him sharply below, his body obscured from view by the edge of the cliff.
Wapol stepped closer to the edge of the cliff and looked straight down, not seeing a single sign of him. Unbeknownst to him, Draconian had relit the flames on his feet and blasted underneath the shelf of ice.
For almost a minute, Wapol just stood over at the cliff's edge looking for any signs of the annoying teen. His nervousness grew every second, not knowing when he would strike. But after so long, he just straightened his body back up, not seeing a single hint of him and reasoning that he probably just fell into the sea.
That was when he struck.
Draconian shot up to Wapol's left, completely jolting shock right through the small man's body. "Left Leg Flurry!" He struck out with his foot, continually smashing the flaming appendage into Wapol's body in a blizzard of fast strikes.
Before he could respond to the attack, Draconian had stopped and quickly flipped to the other side of Wapol's body. "Right Leg Flurry!" And just like last time, he raised his leg up, this time his right, and delivered a barrage of attacks at Wapol's chest, driving the man back.
He tried to get his head straight and fire the guns, but Draconian had already moved on before he could even aim them. His body moved right above Wapol's chest, both legs tucked in as he prepared the final assault. "Both legs, Dragon Stampede!"
Both legs came down, kicking the man's body over and over in a storm of flames. The drive of each kick was enough to almost lift the man off his feet. He was barely able to stand up, his body fighting to not fall backwards as best it could.
Finally, Draconian stopped the barrage, bringing both legs up and tucking them close. Fire twisted up from his feet, wrapping completely around both legs, and for the third time that day, he called out the name of a certain attack.
"Dragon Comet!"
Both legs shot down, slamming square into Wapol's chest and driving him off his feet. A blast of fire accompanied the kick, lifting Wapol straight off the ground and throwing him across the ice.
Draconian landed silently on the ground. As he watched Wapol struggle to get up, his hand calmly moved to the handle of his katana. Fire eagerly erupted along the blade as it soundlessly slipped out of the sheath.
"The katana is quite an interesting sword, wouldn't you say?" He raised the sword up and casually looked over the beautiful blade. "Of course, you wouldn't know much about it now, would you? That's what I hate about your kind, thinking that they can beat anyone as long as they have a gun. There are only a few people in this world who actually have enough skill with projectile throwers that deserve to be called strong. But people like you, physically weak, so you choose to use a simple means of attack so that you don't have to put as much effort into your fighting."
He took a finger and ran it along the length of the blade, the flames licking at his skin. "But the way of the weapon is one that requires much skill. Take the katana for example." The blade snapped down, cutting and melting a line in the ice. "It is said that this particular weapon takes a lifetime to master, but if you think of it so does every other blade. You need to have great skill with it to know exactly how to use it, you need to know exactly how to use it's strike to their fullest potential.
"The strike itself is quite interesting, a basic push-pull system." He casually raised the sword and grabbed the bottom of the handle with his left hand. "Push with the top hand, pull with the bottom, that way you can get a strike powerful enough to cut right through a person's neck while not even moving the head off."
At this point, Wapol was on his right knee, his eyes trying to focus on the swing sword.
"Of course, I wouldn't try and take someone's head off, I don't like killing. But the strike itself is still powerful, and being able to use it in battle when so may things are happening so fast requires much concentration and control." He raised the sword up to his side, the flames leaping about playfully as they awaited their meal of blood.
"At the moment, I'm not sure if I have that much concentration, but that doesn't mean I still can't do it. Here, let me show you." He went into a headlong rush, the sword at his side as he headed towards the struggling Wapol.
His body was burnt, beaten, and just plain weary, there was no possible way he could do anything to prevent the attack. He tried to call upon the various guns he had eaten, but he didn't have enough concentration, and Draconian was just too fast.
"Dragon Slash!"
Pushing with his right hand, pulling with his left, Draconian slashed the blade out in front of him. The sharp edge cut a deep gash right across Wapol's chest.
And that was it. Draconian passed right by Wapol, the sword out in front as he finished the strike. Behind him, he heard the thump as Wapol fell forward, completely unconscious.
Calmly, as if nothing had happened at all, Draconian slid his sword back into the sheath. He then turned around, keeping his casual demeanor, and walked towards the unconscious form of the former king.
Taking a firm grip upon the hem of the man's polar bear cape, he started to drag the man back to the site of battle.
By the time he had gotten back, the battle was already over. All the crewman were lined up on the shore, on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. Many of the townsmen stood watch over them with guns, making sure they didn't try anything.
Draconian could make out about only half the amount of townspeople as there was before, making him guess that all the injured were back at a town. The injured crewmen, however, were just lying unconscious near their comrades.
Off to the side, a group of townspeople were standing around the buffalo person, this time in human form. He was just as tall as wide as in his half human form, his face was square and had a thin beard along his jaw line, with short black hair on top. He looked tough, but at the same time his face gave an essence of calm and kindness.
As he spotted Draconian, the man pushed through the men he'd been talking to, taking quick steps in his direction.
Giving a good yank of the cape, Draconian threw Wapol's beaten and bleeding body at the big man's feet. He then crossed his arms and looked over at the defeated crewmen. "Nice job. So why'd you come back, thought you'd come after me and this fat piece of lard."
A small growl escaped the man's lips. "I didn't exactly have a choice, some of my men ran after me when I gave chase. Once they found me struggling to get back up, they brought me back here to tend to my headache."
"Oh, well, sorry about that. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to..."
"Hey!" The man shouted before he could walk off. "Sorry? You kicked me in the head!"
Draconian gave a few blinks and cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, I apologize. Hey, I beat the fatass for you, you should be happy. Now, as I was saying..."
"I don't care if he was beaten, Wapol was supposed to be mine!" He pointed to himself. "That's the second time he was taken away from me! First by Straw Hat and now by you!"
That got Draconian to raise both eyebrows up. "Straw Hat was here? Now that's definitely interesting. You know where he went?"
"What? That's all you can think about? I'm yelling at you here and you don't even care!"
A sigh escaped his mouth as he rubbed his temple, his other hand resting on his hip. "Can you please just shut up about your damn issues. I don't really care if you wanted Wapol or not, but at the moment it looks like your island is okay, so be grateful. Besides, if you still want the guy, he's still right here. You can take him into an empty room and still have your way with him."
They both were silent for a while. "Yeah," Draconian said, "that last part didn't exactly come out right, but you get the idea of what I'm trying to say. Now, as for the matter of money..."
"Woah woah woah." The man interrupted. "You want us to pay you?"
Draconian's body slightly shook from his laughter. "Of course not, I'm not an ass. I'd just like to raid this guy's ship for some cash, just enough to get by till the next island. You guys can have the rest, I'm pretty sure there'll be enough left."
"Oh." He went silent and bowed his head a little. "Sorry, but I've known a few people to do this kind of thing before."
"That's alright," he gave a dismissive wave, "I can easily understand. There are a lot of cheapskates out there. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get myself some cash."
He then turned towards the ship and jumped, fire blasting from his feet to push him right onto the deck. Once on, he started looking around.
It took him a while, but he finally found one of the doors that lead below deck. As he had guessed, these lead him to where they kept their money and other treasures.
There were a few chests filled with many coins and paper beli, this was where he headed first. After taking all he needed from one of the chests, he searched around the room for anything interesting.
Shelves held many different things like crowns, decorated daggers, and other expensive things. It also held some odd objects that probably weren't worth much but were still interesting.
One thing caught Draconian's eye. It was a glass orb just like his Lock Post, an arrow hanging in it. It was inside a wooden stand, like something that would hold an hourglass but smaller. On the bottom stand was carved the word ALABASTA.
Interested, Draconian picked up the object and headed outside.
He jumped down to the shore, still inspecting the orb. "Hey," he walked towards the big man, "Do you know what this thing is?" He passed the orb over to him.
After a few seconds inspection, the man gave the thing back to Draconian. "It's a thing called an Eternal Post. It locks on to a specific island's magnetic frequency, like a Lock Post, and never varies. It's quite a useful tool in the Grand Line. Looks like this one's locked onto Alabasta. If I'm correct, I believe that's where Straw Hat was heading."
"Really?" A grin spread across his face as he inspected the thing once more. He then turned around and headed back to the inlet his ship was at. "Thanks for the info, I'm off."
"Wait!"
Draconian turned around at the shout. "Hmm?"
"You know, you haven't told me your name yet."
A chuckle emanated from his mouth. "My name's Draconian Mihawk, but you can call me Dragon. And you?"
The man planted his hands on his hips. "My name's Dalton, I'm the protector of this island."
"Well, that's not surprising. From what I saw, you fight well." With that, he turned back around and headed back towards his ship. His voice called back through the cold air. "You and I should spar some time, I'd like to come back here and learn of your pink snow."
For a while, Dalton was silent. After a few seconds, deep laughter started to rock his body, echoing through the night air to be heard by Draconian all the way to his ship.
On the edge of the giant, broken ledge of ice sat two people watching Draconian's ship sail out of the island. One was a short, old lady with frizzy hair. The other was a big, dull looking man with a big cannon on his back.
The man turned over to the woman, his lips slowly forming the word in his mind. "Wwwwwhhhyyy..."
"Why'd I place the Post there?" The woman quickly shot back at him, her voice sounding annoyed. "God you're slow! Because, you duh, he's a threat! We don't want to risk another event like with the Straw Hat! So we bring him to our turf before he can do anything and take him out! Simple, simple, simple! Why can't you understand, you duh! Duh! You're stupidity makes my back hurt!"
The man slowly turned his head back to the ship. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."
Sorry for the wait, people. I'd decided to take a long break to "study" up on One Piece. Now, I've read every single chapter and have ideas for many more of my own chapters. I promise that I won't take any more breaks from now on that will last... actually, I'm not even sure how many months ago it was that I actually last wrote. Oh, I'd also like to apologize on my Lock Post mistake, when I wrote the chapter, I was at the point where I thought that they calculated the magnetic field thing, I didn't know it locked on. I promise not to make these kinds of mistakes in the future. Now, on to the reviewers!
Yachtzee: Rude? Nah, you're not rude. All criticism is accepted, as long as it's not actual insults just because you like things differently, you're fine. And I don't mind you not liking dragons, I just like doing dragon themes a lot. I'll try to fix the descriptions and sentences, but you have to realize that after improving my writing from Forces of Elements to what I am to now in only a year, it's going to be difficult to refine things. Finally, don't apologize for long critiques, I always find they're one of the bests that there are.
too lazy to log in: First things first, just out of curiosity, who are you? I'd just like to know specifically what member you are. Okay, first I'd like to address the Marie-Sue part. I apologize if he seems stronger than you think he should be, but if you think about it, Luffy pretty much beat everyone that he fought too, and the crew didn't have too much to do with it, they just beat the second in command people, who Draconian should have no problem with. But, don't worry, he will have tougher challenges in the future. Also, I know this will sound stupid, but I never really got the full meaning of Mary-Sue, I just haven't picked it up yet. Again, I'll try to work on the other things, and never feel bad for criticizing a person. If someone gets angry because you did it then they're just self-centered idiots who don't understand that you're trying to help.
H-girl.1: You know what's funny? You started reviewing around the same time that I started to write this chapter. Weird, huh? Actually, I believe he's 18, 17 was when he got the fruit. And yes, he does believe chivalry is dead, but he'll still be polite to a nice girl. I'm not really too sure he's a flirt, but the girl was literally hanging on his arm, how else would he react eh? I think I have just the place to put your idea, it should be in Ch. 13 I think.
Well, can't wait to hear your reviews, I'll TTYL.