We did it guys. 200 followers as of this chapter. So I'm putting it out much earlier than I planned to because- skjkfdj, you guys are great! I can't believe this stories gotten popular enough to hit triple digits, much less two hundred.
The reviews I've been getting are so, so sweet by the way. They had me jumping in to write this one and finishing it a few days after I posted the last one. Thank you so much.
Also, a lot of people hate the Bartender and Cona. And I am LIVING for it. Because (honestly they're some of my favorite and their story isn't over!) I was totally not expecting it but also wanted it at the same time.
I got a few people saying they liked the longer chapters and while I can't promise them always, next chapter is definitely going to be a long one. I'm only a quarter of the way through it and I've already written so, so much.
Puru Puru.
Puru Puru.
Puru Puru.
Puru- click.
She reached out and quickly pressed the call button again, listening for the familiar sound to start up.
Puru Puru.
Puru Puru.
Puru Puru.
Puru- click.
Again.
Puru-
Again!
Puru-!
-Click.
"I… think that's enough for now." Cona takes a seat in the grass, hands sliding under her skirt, so she can fall onto her knees comfortably next to Salt. The girl doesn't even twitch at her sudden presence. If it wasn't for her shutting down the snail, Cona would've wondered if she even knew she was there. "It's already morning."
The snail hacks and coughs and curls in on itself, disappearing into its shell. Overworked.
A similar image to the girl beside her. Curled into a ball, knees pulled up, head buried, and arms wrapped so tightly around herself that they were beginning to turn pale from stress. "How long have you been out here?"
Since she saw her leave, Cona is assuming. From the dew and moisture ruining her hair and the dampness of her clothes, it would hardly be unsurprising. She's covered in goosebumps.
Cona sighs. And slowly begins to pick up the tools on the ground and place them back in her small toolbox. They're old and frayed and even slightly rusted on the handles, but despite that, they're well taken care of. A set of small and precise tools perfect for working with things like Den Den Mushi harnesses and other small contraptions. "If you leave these out in the rain, they'll get all rusty."
As she makes space in the box, she finds another contraption, small and portable and fitted for a Cameko- a visual Den Den Mushi. Cona can't help but smile. It was a present for her brother, wasn't it?
He liked to take pictures if she remembered correctly.
"Aren't these tools precious to you?"
Salt doesn't lift her head and it makes her already small mumble even harder to hear.
"...What does it matter? They're not worth shit anyways."
"That's not true." She says lightly. "A set like this would go for quite a bit of money in the market."
"Good. Go and sell them then."
"Oh, you don't mean tha-"
"Yes, I do!" Salt finally whips her head up.
Cona grimaces.
Her eyes are outlined in a thick red, there are tear trails and rashes beginning to form and it still doesn't look as if she's done. She's been crying. For a long time now.
"It's worthless-! It doesn't mean anything, not if- not if-!" She sucks in a shaky breath and her lip wobbles and-
Salt buries her head back into her arms.
Cona opens her mouth, in the hopes that she might be able to say something reassuring, but nothing pops into her head. So, instead, she says nothing and just watches Salts hands sneak into her hair and start tugging by the fistfuls. Shoulders and back shuddering with the force of her whimpers.
"...D-Don… Don't do that… You'll hurt yourself."
"I don't care! Did you-" She tugs. "-Did you come here to make fun of me? To laugh in my laugh and say 'I told you so'? That's it, r-right?! That's why you're here!"
"No," Cona places her hand on her back gently, "What would make you think that?"
Salt laughs mirthlessly and slaps her hand away. "Because you all were right! I should've just… stayed home and done nothing. It's not like I can do anything anyways-"
"T-That's not true-"
"Don't lie to me-! You agree with the bartender-" She accuses, "and with all the rest! I'm just a useless waste of space, even that pirate-lady agrees! H-How can I be anything if the things that I'm good at…"
She peeks out from between her arms, eyes glistening and vision blurred.
"...mean nothing?"
Cona bows her head.
And Salt's breaths come out in deep, shuddery bursts.
There's quiet for a long time. Only broken by Salt's whimpers and failed attempts to hold back sobs.
Then:
"...Nobody cares, do they?"
Cona wants to lie. But she can't.
"...No."
She'd been trying to call all night. Hadn't stopped for a moment. Even after the first thirty attempts went nowhere and the hope that had been steadily building- since those pirates proved to be strong, proved to be as trustworthy as pirates could be -all came crashing down around her. Chipped away, bit by bit, as not one person picked up. Even though she was out of range of that damned Horned Den Den Mushi attempting to jam every radio wave it didn't like- and she had made sure of it.
It… Nobody had picked up just because- Nobody was there.
Salt's voice broke, "Why? Is… Is everyone else just more important?"
"-No. No." Cona desperately tried to get her to stop. She couldn't stand thinking like that, not from her- not from a child that had been so determined and passionate just the day before. She didn't want to see someone else break down. "They'll try and tell you that, make excuses, claim that you're less than dirt, that… because of who you are or what you do, you deserve it." She looks down at her hands, fingers squeezing closed. "It's a lie."
"But…"
"No person is ever more important. It doesn't matter if they're a judge, soldier, mother, or even a god. We're all stuck living in this world together and we all make it run, just the same as any other. It's…" Cona takes a deep breath. "It's just that… There's a lot of terrible people out there. That think they're inherently better. They'll try and tell you your worth, don't listen. Oh, god, please don't listen to them-"
She shook her head.
She'd had those thoughts, it feels like everyday of her life- that every minute was just filled with them.
Being a sexworker, she didn't get respect. They didn't think she deserved it. That she was just a commodity, a tool, a piece of… not quite garbage, but something they would have an easy time throwing away. And she'd believe them. Because she always felt dirty and tossed aside and like everything that was making her- her, was slowly getting stolen away with each passing day.
It was the quiet, from the times when she could think to herself and didn't have to hide away, where there were moments of joy and happiness spent with people she cared about- people she wanted to fight for- that she figured out that she had never deserved the words or sneers or the abuse. That she could still have respect, still be looked up to, be somebody worth something- despite the life she'd been forced to pursue.
"So long as you know how much you're really worth, you'll be okay. Because you're already better than them-" She smiled, a bit sadly. "-you're trying to help, after all."
Salt sniffed.
It doesn't fix anything, but at least it helps.
And Kat pushed off the tree he'd been leaning against.
Walking away from the scene he'd been an unwanted witness to. Not that either of them knew it.
It was private. He knew that. And he should've walked away, told himself that he would, but… for some reason his feet hadn't been able to move from their fixed spot until it was all but already over. He can hear the sobs of Salt grow quieter and quieter as she's finally able to compose herself and stand back up with Cona. They'll see him the moment they turn around.
So he pretends like he hadn't been an invader and raises his hand in greeting, a smile on his face, "Heyy! I came to get you guys! What're you doing all the way out here? The bartender was getting worried about you two!" Like he's just found them.
Salt hides her tear tracked face and furiously rubs her arm over it. He pretends not to notice.
"What's up? What were you doing?"
Cona laughs, tense. "O-Oh, nothing. Salt was, um… Just telling me about the Cameko additions she was making for her brother! It was rather fascinating actually."
Salt quickly jumps on the excuse. "U-Uh, y-yeah, yeah. He… likes documenting things… so I was making him… an upgrade..." It falls into a mumble near the end there and Kat almost doesn't catch it at all.
"Oh, that's pretty cool!"
He feels bad.
The inner turmoil isn't enough for him to say anything though.
They start walking back. With Salt purposely rushing ahead of them by quite a ways. Kat watches her go, still in sight, but far enough that she's definitely still trying to hide her shuddering breaths and hiccups.
After Quinn had figured out that Ace had taken off, presumably to explore Nest, Kat had watched her, in more exasperation than anything, accidentally hurt herself with the force of her own facepalm. Sighing so hard that she sunk into the seat until there was a bit of talk about what to do, to which Kat couldn't help but be amused by her blaise attitude towards, despite being visibly annoyed, and they'd decided that they'd sail over to Hunting since that was apparently closer and- Quinn had flipped a coin- on deciding between it and Nest.
Then they'd discovered that Cona and Salt had been gone for a number of hours, to the point it was concerning, and Kat had decided to go off in search of them while Quinn said something about stopping and getting groceries for the ship. It hadn't taken all that long to find them, actually. He'd just asked around with their descriptions and someone mentioned seeing Cona head in one direction and he'd been off.
He scuffed his foot in the wet grass.
Truth be told, he hadn't actually wanted to split off from Quinn. She'd been hurt and it felt like it fell on him to make sure that he was at least there, by her side, but he- He had a selfish reason for wanting to talk to Cona. And during a party while everyone was celebrating had felt like the worst time. So here he was.
"Did you…" he kicks a pebble with his toe, watching it shoot off ahead of them, "mean it?"
"Huh?"
No, that's wrong. He- Of course she did, at the time, what he wanted was- Kat swallowed. "If… If I had been different, like you- human -would you have still tried to kill me?"
Cona flinches, whether it's because of the question or the topic, he can't tell. He just knows she isn't happy with it. Good, he thinks, let her be uncomfortable. It's vindictive and unnecessary but he still feels like it anyway.
She looks at her own feet. "...Those powers of yours, are they- are they because you're-" she gestures to her face and arms, where his gills and shark-like skin is, "-like that?"
No. But also yes. Anyone can learn it, it's just harder for humans, hard for half-fish man too. But he would've never learned it if it wasn't for his heritage and once-life on Fishman Island. He didn't think there was a non-fishman instructor that existed, certainly not anyone he knew, and of the fishman instructors he's been told about… None of them would give a human the time of day even if they were interested.
"Yes," he says, tentatively. Because, technically, it's true.
Cona runs a hand through her hair, "Do you… want the truth?"
"...Yes."
"Then. Yeah."
He sags, shoulders slumping. He, yeah, he expected as much. He kicks another rock, harder this time, it leaves a small divot in the tree it hits.
"B-But it's not because of your appearance, I promise you that. I didn't even know what you looked like- you were just a cute kid in a sick mask and-"
It's an excuse. She realizes belatedly and she's ashamed that she even tried to shift the blame away when he casts her a look that's caught somewhere between crippling disappointment and lowering self-worth.
She's just making up excuses. Trying to make herself feel better and she gives a small laugh and feels horrible instead.
"No, no. Sorry, I- You're right. If I hadn't seen what you were capable of, with those water powers of yours, I wouldn't have tried to kill you. I… I took one look at it and thought you were a threat."
"Don't worry about it, I'm… used to that sort of thing." He can't help but sigh, fingers twitching over the mess of scars that marr his gills. She was hardly the first to try and hurt him because she was scared that he might bite back at some point.
Cona opens her mouth, then closes it.
Until, "For what it's worth, if I had known how strong your Captain was or-or about whatever weird power Quinn has, I would've tried to kill them too." She pauses, "I mean, I doubt I would have succeeded but-"
Kat laughs. It cuts her off. "What?! Are you- Are you trying to say that, because of me, I ended up protecting my crew just by taking the brunt of your focus?!" Is that supposed to be comforting? He's not sure. "Can I really believe that-"
He fell silent.
Cona quirks a small smile at the ground. There's a touch of humor there but it's mostly a grim curve of shame and deprecation. "Heh. Well, yeah." She mumbles a bit and says it like it should be obvious. "I was so… I was so focused on you and your powers and how you hid behind a sick mask that I completely ignored the possibility that, hell, even your Captain would be something to be worried about. That's not- That was just stupid of me."
"...So, because you're an asshole who jumps to conclusions, I ended up protecting my crew. That's what you're saying?"
"B-Basically, I guess?"
Huh.
Well, okay.
Kat's not- He's really not sure how to feel about that.
They fall into an awkward silence that has Cona tense and glancing at him from the corner of her eye every few seconds, in the hopes that she might be able to see something, but his expression is unreadable.
"Do you-?"
She's stopped short by Salt.
"C-Cona…?!" It's a rather quiet call, all things considered. But there's a somewhat panicked note in her voice that has Cona immediately searching for the young girl. A feeling of something being not right that makes her spine straighten and her heart beat faster.
"What? Are you alright?" Salt's still dead ahead of them, but she's stopped now. Frozen stiff and looking at something she can't see. And, when Cona runs to her side, it's to find her pale and visibly shaken, and not the result of the emotional escapades from before. "What is…" She follows her wide eyed gaze. "...it… Gh?!"
And freezes just the same.
Kat didn't even notice her run ahead at first. Too stuck in his own head to pay it any mind. It doesn't help that, when he glances up, he can't see what has them rattled either. There's too many trees blocking the way and his mind is half on the thought that he should just ditch them and go find Quinn already. That is until he takes another two steps forward and can finally see enough around the forest that-
...Oh-kay?
"Is that…" He squints. As if his eyes are playing tricks on him. "...a mime?"
He's never seen one in real life but he's read enough books with pictures to figure it out. The black and white stripes, the painted face, the odd short black suit that hugs the thin and lanky figure like a second skin of a man that's too tall to be considered a normal person. He's definitely weird. But Kat's not sure if that's just because mimes were supposed to be strange or not.
"...Y-Yes, it is…" Comes Cona's quiet, terrified confirmation. Barely a whisper, if that.
"Oh…" Well then. "That's cool! Is that supposed to be an invisible box?"
"W-Wait, no, don't-!"
Too late.
Cona slams her mouth shut as unblinking yellow eyes turn on a swivel, finally taking notice of them. Peering attentively down at the red headed teen that was almost skipping towards him, an almost childlike wonder about him. They try not to think about how his body contorts unnaturally, even as it makes them take a step back, because it twists him around fully so he can actually face them now.
Kat's unaware of their reluctance. That, or he just doesn't care. "So like- Are you really not able to talk at all?! Or was that just something I read?" Sometimes it was hard to tell what was true or what was just elaboration.
There's no words that get exchanged. Not even a sound.
Kat can't even really tell if he's breathing or not. Gosh, maybe he isn't, his chest isn't even moving.
"...I'll take that as a yes to the former there!"
There's a sudden shifting of movement. Both Cona and Salt stumble back in an attempt to back away and-
"Gah?!" Kat hops back his own few paces, nearly jumping right out of his skin. "D-Don't come at me like that! You scared me, geez!" His heart had tried to escape his own chest there. "Man, you really take the invisible box thing seriously, huh?" He'd been slightly worried he was actually going to get jumped there. The mime had sprung forward, slamming into its own invisible wall before he could get close, and slid to the ground as if there was actually something there to block them.
"K-Kat, we should l-leave-" Salt stutters.
He ignores her. "Hey, you're pretty good though! What else can you do?"
He watches in interest as the mime taps his chin before holding up a finger, like he's got an idea, and suddenly he's pushing against the air- hands firmly placed in front of him, feet sliding from the sheer effort and back breaking force he was trying to put into it. Trying to break down his own invisible wall. Unsuccessfully.
"Don't encourage him!"
He suddenly tries the ceiling. Oh, it's a good attempt but he's falling to his knees and having to wipe his brow before long. Then he's trying to shove a wall out with his back, no luck there either. Then with his arms. Until both them and his legs are being used to the point it almost looks like he's actually floating, as if there really are walls there. The only thing that throws off the illusion is the toe of his shoe still touching the ground.
"Woah! No way, man!" Kat can't help but cheer, erupting into applause the more he sees. Yellow eyes crinkle in what he thinks is delight. "That's amazing! I've never seen anything like it before in my life."
"K-Kat…"
Annoyed, he finally turns, "What?"
And blinks. Uhm.
Cona and Salt are grasping him by the shirt, practically materializing at his sides, gently tugging at him with their eyes still firmly locked onto the mime still stuck in the invisible box. Nervousness palpable. It was coming off them in waves. "We should go." They insisted with twin hisses.
"Huh- why?! It's just a mime!" He rolls his eyes and tries to slide out of their grips, it doesn't work. Their holds are way too tight. "This is really cool! I wanna see what else-"
"Kat," it was Cona, whispering, "we have to leave. R-Right now."
He's dragged away a few paces before he can slam his feet down and hold his ground. "Hey, no way! This is awesome." He pulls back. "I bet Quinn would like this too."
Salt whimpers and it has him pausing. "P-Please, this is… This is getting more and more dangerous the longer we stay. We can't- We can't be here. Not if he gets out."
Oh, he thought she was being serious there for a second.
He has to snort and roll his eyes.
"Oh, c'mon. It's just a mime! It's not like the box he's in is real. How gullible do you think I am-?"
"That doesn't matter!" Cona snaps, then flinches back when the mime places a hand against his wall, leaning his forehead against it. He looks to be sad and mopey now. Their attitude bringing him down. "T-That doesn't matter because…"
The mime gestures for Kat to come closer.
Salt's grip on him tightens. "Don't."
He gestures at him again. More urgently.
Salt's fingers tighten to the point of pain. "Don't."
Kat doesn't move.
And the mime seems to sag in despair. He doesn't gesture again, it seems like he's given up on trying to get him to come closer.
"-because-"
It slams it's head forward.
They all jump as it bounces off.
Just as quickly it leans back, and slams again.
"-because, so long as he thinks he's trapped in a box, he can't get out."
They wince. It feels wrong to think it but the fact that there's no sound of him hitting something or blood running down his face as a result of his nonexistent wall is probably the oddest thing. Because it feels like, even though he actually doesn't look to be hitting anything, it still seems like his body is reacting to it. And the fact that he's not receiving any damage, despite looking like he should be, is what feels really just wrong about the whole picture.
"But-" Kat feels an unsettling feeling begin to grow in the pit of his stomach. "-he's just a mime? What does that even matter?"
He hits his head. One last time. Collapsing to the bottom of his box in a heap of too long limbs.
They both fail to hide their terrified squeaks.
"A Mime like that-"
"-should never be allowed to roam free!"
And they were both tugging much harder now. Trying to get him to move but Kat still wasn't convinced by either of them. "I don't know…"
"Please! We need to go! So long as he doesn't get a key or figure a way out we'll be fine to-"
Salt suddenly yelps and stumbles back.
Because, as she says that, the mime suddenly starts convulsing on the ground. Chest heaving and legs kicking and arms scrambling to grab ahold of his flat walls, all end in failure, and his body is forced to twist and contort in unnatural and sickening ways. They watch his spine poke from beneath his shirt, digits popping out noiselessly, and bones bend in impossible directions that have them disgusted before long.
There's a twist. And his large body seems to fold at the middle.
Much like folding a large stack of paper in half.
It's gross and elastic in a way that's just… wrong. As if his flesh is a rubber to be bent but his insides are not. A nasty display that was only made worse by the usage of the invisible box, trapping him and stuffing him and forcing him into odd corners and angles.
There's froth beginning to bubble past his lips. Saliva that drips down his chin and into the grass in long strands of slobber that ends with him bent over the ground, gagging; dry heaving. Nothing but spit and spittle come up. And it's the quiet that permeates the whole scene that makes it the most frightening. Joints that should be popping, clothes that should be shifting, breaths that should be coming out, everything that should be just isn't. It's completely silent.
"Is he…?"
All too late, they realize that it's like he's vomiting something up.
And they don't get it, not immediately, but his long fingers sort through the wet grass until he picks up something that isn't there. Something that only he can interact with. A key, their minds supply, a tad further too late.
Because, already, the mime is unlocking a small door at the bottom of the box. Too small. Much too small for even a normal child to fit through. But there's a distortion of limbs in the mix of black and white and he's folding his body smaller and smaller until he's through an opening that they can't see. It's a slow and meticulous process that they only see is done once he knocks the door closed with the heel of his shoe and swallows back down the invisible key.
He stands to his full height. Towering over them all easily. And yellow eyes crinkle in what Kat had assumed was delight.
It's not-
It feels like a threat.
Salt's voice is filled with panic and she's practically screaming, "WE NEED TO GO-!"
It's too late.
Kat feels a hand plant itself into his stomach.
Pain. Pain. Everything is-
He gasps to life, blood dripping down his face, and attempts to sit up despite his ribs screaming at him. Distantly, he hears the sound of Cona and Salt running and yelling and there's… Ow. Ow, ow, o- ow.
When he stands he nearly collapses.
The trees he was sent through certainly do. Only delayed by their own surprise. And he tries to take in his surroundings and get his head back on his shoulders. There's about fifteen feet between here and where he last was, the mime is standing over him, and he can't see Cona and Salt but he can certainly hear them and- oh, wait. The mime is standing over him.
The mime is standing over him.
Kat can't get his claws up in time.
-0-
That was an odd encounter.
Quinn frowned, shifting the grocery bags over in her arms. Going from a fit of extreme paranoia over her own appearance to seeing a guy like that- well, it had her feeling a tiny bit better about her whole situation. Because, from the reactions, she could tell that he was way further down the abnormality scale than she was ever going to be.
The man- the Mime -had towered over her. Standing over her, she couldn't even tell how tall he was, but it was enough that she felt like an ant beneath his boot. It was even enough to have her shrouded by his shadow. It didn't help that he was bent so far at his middle, in order to peer down at her face, that he curved over to the point that a quick tilt of his head could have him looking at both her face and the back of her head with ease.
The creepy yellow eyes hadn't helped to curb her mounting fear. Especially when he wouldn't stop looking at her. It was like he was trying to figure out something. And, whatever it was, she found that she definitely didn't want him to find it.
So she'd offered to buy him something from the meat booth.
"Oh, sir, am I in your way?"
Fake smile plastered across her face.
"My apologies, would you like me to buy a treat for you? I can't believe how rude I was to block you!"
Thankfully, that seemed to throw him off whatever it was he was searching for because he'd promptly stood up and walked away. Not even taking her up on her offer.
(Which she was glad for, her wallet really couldn't take that kind of abuse.)
On his way away, he'd stooped down to glare at some red haired man that squeaked and ran away as soon as he took notice of the unwanted attention. Weird, Quinn noted, he'd given the guy the same cursory look over as well, apparently not finding anything he was looking for with him either. Though definitely arriving at that conclusion much quicker than he had with her.
Strange.
"I can't believe this…"
Quinn started to set the bags down, pulling up one of their empty barrels and filling it with her purchases. Wrapping the plastic into a ball and shoving it deep into the corner, in the case that they might need to use it later.
"What kind of person just takes a boat like that? Right off the docks too."
There's some pair of fishermen standing not too far away from where they'd docked. They're both shaking their heads and talking loud enough that she can hear them without even meaning to. They're not exactly trying to be quiet either. Too angry and incredulous to keep their voices down.
"Must've been in a hurry. Just jumped in and started heading out, even laughed at us when we tried to get him to come back."
She jumps out of the boat and starts stretching, loathe to be stuck in the confined space for any number of minutes more than she had to. She can't wait until they get their own- real -ship, one that has space to stretch and walk around and do their own thing without having to worry about kicking one another in the face. With actual rooms and amenities and-
She glanced over.
Huh. She wondered what jerk went and pissed off the locals.
"Fah, bet it was one of those kids that like to steal the fish."
"No. Some muscular guy. Was wearing a bright orange cowboy hat and-"
Wait a second. That's her jerk!
Quinn made a face and started stretching in the other direction.
Ah.
Where was Kat? She didn't want to hang out here anymore!
-0-
It's not as if he's particularly fast. Or, he wouldn't be, but his legs are long and they have a much farther reach than Kat's ever could. It's what makes it hard to get away. That and the fact that the branches whip out to hit him in the face as he shoves them out of the way and rushes past.
He's being played with.
There's not a sound as he slides to a stop.
The Mime smiles down on him.
He feels his chest heave as he tries to catch his breath, arms shaking as he raises his claws up. There's blood dripping down and into his eyes and dark spots in his vision, he has to blink a couple times to get them out of the way. It doesn't provide much in the way of help. Kat tries to keep his defensive stance held firm.
And Salt gasps from where she hangs.
Trying to stay awake, too shocked to scream.
One arm distended at an awkward angle in the Mimes gloved grip. There's not much he can tell about how she got caught, he just knows that his back is aching from all the trees it's been used to break and that Cona has already been knocked unconscious. Tossed aside like a limp doll on a pile of tree roots and forgotten. Her treatment, compared to his and Salt's has him worried that it was them that he was after.
Salt struggles to lift her head up. "H-Help m-me…!"
There's moisture in the grass.
It's not much but it's enough to trip him up when he pulls it out from under him.
Unfortunately, it tosses Salt away also and a terrible scream rips through her throat until it's raw. He winces. It'd twisted her arm a bit further but at least she's on the ground and he can grab her by the shirt and yank her onto her feet, not sparing a moment to even think about the Mime or Cona or- "Move already!"
They're running, sprinting.
Even though they can't hear anything, not even branches being shoved out of the way behind them, just their own gasps for air, Kat knows that there's a shadow that follows. And all too late for him to react, a black and white striped leg sticks out in front of them. "Aahg-?!" Before they're sent rolling to the ground, tripping over it.
Kat barely has time to throw up a claw to meet the incoming foot and his arm shakes as it connects. He's strong. The Mime is definitely stronger.
No one would normally think so, not with him built like a beanstalk and looking like his limbs were noodles, but the strength in every blow is abnormal. Kat shudders. Shifting his weight until the sound of his claws creaking and shaking reaches his ears and- he throws his arm back at a painful angle. Thankfully, it's enough to redirect the kick in a direction away from their bodies and he's just barely able to collect Salt and start running again.
"Damn it, he's got too much reach!"
Salt whimpers, cradling her arm to her chest. Even a quick glance tells him it looks wrong. Shoulder sticking out at an angle that it shouldn't.
"What even is his problem?!"
He wouldn't say that it'd been going so good before but, hell, it was definitely better than this!
There isn't much time before the Mime is appearing again, long legs and feet sending up dirt as he slides to a stop in front of them, Kat grits his teeth. They're not going to be able to get away, are they? Not just by running.
"He's trying to k-kill us-!"
"Yeah, I figured that much out!"
Kat doesn't stop running forward, swiping at his chest, the highest he can reach. An attack on the tip of his tongue, "Sleigh-?!"
He yelps and gets tossed back, just barely managing to keep his feet.
"Damn it!"
There's a number of curses he wants to say but doesn't. There really isn't any time for it. Not when he's having to cartwheel out of the way of what would have surely been a devastating hit. Apparently, trying to fight him wasn't going to get him anywhere either. Maybe if they had the homeground of the ocean, but unfortunately, even pulling from the dew stuck in the trees and the blood on his face wouldn't provide more than slashes that he thinks the Mime would only find as blemishes.
"A-Are you okay?!" Salt gasps. "W-We need to- get out of here!"
Kat growls. It didn't help that he had to carry her. "If you've got any ideas, now would be the time to let me know!"
She doesn't.
But she's coherent enough to worry about Cona, even as he takes off running once again, practically sobbing from her arm getting jostled by each step, it's not enough to keep her mouth shut. "W-What about Cona?!" He pulls out a stream of water and throws it behind him. He doesn't think it does anything but it feels like he's trying at least, so he keeps at it.
"Don't care-" Not a good thing to say, apparently, it gets her kicking out in anger. He nearly drops her as his ribs ache from her thrashing. "Look, gah-! He's more focused on us right now! If we go back for her, we'll only put her in more danger!"
It's enough to convince her and she spits out a pained, "F-Fine."
For a long moment, there is nothing. And he keeps running even as he frantically flicks his gaze this way and that, in the hopes of locating the bastard Mime, and, when there's no such luck, it just has him even more frantic. Until the trees have got them all turned around and Kat slides to a reluctant stop. Whipping around in circles before rushing in the direction that he thinks the town is with little hesitation. Shoving branches out of the way, still tossing water even though it'd stopped making him feel better.
He just-
"Where did he go?!"
He's not naive enough to think that he's actually lost him.
That thought gets confirmed when a foot collides with his side and the only thing that keeps him up and moving is his own momentum. "Gak-!" That's, oh, he's for sure cracked a rib. The high pitch and garbled breathing coming out of him told him that much.
Salt yelps, "Just go away!"
He doesn't. Of course not.
Her face starts to turn red. Whether that's because of the tears and pain or simply getting progressively pissed off by the fact that he just wouldn't let up, it's hard to tell. But she's glaring the Mime down with all that she can muster through gritted teeth, teary eyes, and a half-sputtered, "H-How about you go back to whatever invisible box you crawled out of already?!"
Kat feels a knee slam into the ground.
Oh, wow, this is super not good.
That's a... new pain.
"Shi-!"
He can't defend like this.
The Mime doesn't care. Lunges at them, flat palms ready to slam them into the ground, and even lifting one hand up has his torso screaming at him to stop. Despite the pain, he still raises it, in the hopes that he might at least be able to minimize the damage and-
The Mime slams into nothing.
"..."
"...uhm…"
Kat feels a bead of sweat slide down the side of his face. Salt and him share a look, before tilting their heads in unison. "...Eh?"
...It's not that simple.
There's no way!
That. That just can't be right, can it?!
There's a moment taken to breath out their disbelief. And the Mime raps his knuckles against the nothingness and tries to slam into the wall of its own creation. They're all silent for once. Then, he starts up that noiseless gagging again and they're back on the run. "You can't be serious! That worked?!"
Salt gasps between jostled breaths, "I-It's just like Cona said, I think! I-If he thinks there's something there, he'll treat it like it's real! Even if it's someone else putting it in the way!"
He couldn't help it.
Kat started cackling, loud and in sheer disbelief. It breaks down into a weak coughing fit almost as soon as he begins, his sides scream in protest. "This is so weird!" At least they had an idea about how to deal with him now-
Ah, that's an arm coming for his face, isn't it?
…
…
She loosens the rope holding the boat in place. The waves rocking it gently so that it knocks against the dock and she struggles to keep it still with one leg, trying to tie her hair up as she does it. It's probably a little too unstable for her to be doing this without hands, especially considering the shallows could easily be a watery grave for her, but she does it anyway. Keh- besides, how funny would that be?
"Hey!"
"Nhn?"
It's the fisherman that she'd eavesdropped on.
"You look familiar, I coulda sworn I saw your face before."
"A-Ah, no. You must be mistaken. I haven't-"
"No, no. I didn't recognize you at first, with all the bruises, but you were with him earlier weren't you?"
She plays dumb. "I'm sorry? Afraid I don't know who you're talking about."
"The one with the bright orange cowboy-"
"QUINN!"
Oh thank god. Kat.
She hides her sigh of relief and whips around to the call of her name, "Oh, Kat, what took you so long, I was starting to get worr- Are you okay?!"
The relief was short lived at the sight of him. Completely taken aback by the blood on his face, the busted up looks, and the limp that he now carried in his running state. The Salt over his shoulder was ignored in favor of him shouting above the people wandering about their mornings.
She's already trying to figure out what could've gone wrong. Mind moving a mile a minute.
"What happened-?!"
"WE'RE BEING CHASED BY A MIME!"
...Okay?
"...Hey, I'd love to stay and chat about orange cowboys. But this island seems a bit crazy so I'm just gonna…" she tosses both her thumbs over her shoulder in the direction of the sea, "...go."
"HE'S STUPID THOUGH! WE HAD TO KEEP THROWING UP INVISIBLE WALLS, IT'S THE ONLY THING THAT KEPT US SAFE!"
There's Kat, proving her point.
"Yeah…" She nods to herself, that seems like a good idea. "Bye!"
"Hey, wait-!"
She'll go ahead and start pushing the boat out already. Best to get away from all the crazies, lest she get infected by whatever's already gotten Kat in its clutches. Ah, so young, and to become a lost cause so soon.
"Good idea!"
"-Keh!"
He crashes onto the deck in a frenzy. Throwing Salt onto the ground, causing her to scream and curl up on her injured arm that- Oh, ow, ow, ow! That hurt just looking! That's definitely been dislocated. Kat breathes heavily, clutching his own ribs. "If we can get out to sea we'll be able to lose him!"
"Yeah, that… was my plan all along…"
Unconvincingly, she glances to the side. As if that might hide the lie.
Kat completely doesn't notice. "You're so smart, Quinn!"
She shakes her head and turns concerned instead. "...You're okay, right?" He looks worse for wear, attempting to wave off her worry with hiccupped gasps. "You still haven't answered me. Besides, what did you mean when… you said… Mime?" It.. Couldn't be that guy from earlier, could it? She'd only just saw him and Kat had definitely been running for awhile.
Quinn bites her lip and turns to take a quick look back at where they'd come running out from-
White. Hand.
Fingers spread, long on an open palm.
Quinn's breath catches as it grows closer and she's completely frozen stiff. Dimly, from her peripheral, she notices that Kat's mouth is slightly parted in shock and his eyes are wide. Even Salt seems to stall. And the hand continues to grow closer.
Creeping.
Creeping.
Creeping.
They're feet away from the edge of the dock now, but still. It keeps stretching. Like some nightmarish abomination with no end in sight.
Creeping.
Creeping.
It's large enough that it may swallow her whole head.
Creeping.
Fingers bend like claws, joints popping without a sound in a way that's not right for even the people of this world, and she thinks that her heart might have stopped. There's no beat or thrum. She can't hear anything. She doesn't even find it in her to blink when five fingertips start to press against her face, almost completely obscuring her vision beneath it's shadow, leaving only one eye able to see and she wishes it couldn't.
Because that yellow eye is unblinking.
They're over ten feet away from the dock and yet the hand still remains.
It- just- keeps- getting- closer-
It suddenly stops.
And the fingers pull away from her face, like a puzzle piece being pulled out of place, as the boat slides just barely a centimeter further. The blood rushes back into her ears and she can feel her heart's rapid pace in her chest, shocked by a burst of adrenaline, yet she still can't remove her eyes from their place.
The hand twitches.
Then, slowly, meticulously, it begins to pull away. Each finger bending separately from one another, as if each small appendage was completely disconnected and had a mind of its own. She can't help but notice that he's hanging over the water, nothing but the toe of his foot keeping him connected to the docks, and that- with his height and the length of his limbs -they'd just barely been able to drift out of his unnatural reach.
Quinn remains standing, somehow, back ramrod straight.
The wind tousles her hair.
He- It-
The Mime.
Stands in a similar rendition of her pose. Only it looks down on her with empty eyes.
...They're mocking her.
"Quinn! Salt won't stop screaming!"
It snaps her out of her stupor and she forcibly has to tear her gaze away from the Mime. Because she doesn't want to lose sight of him. Not even for a second. It feels like- the moment she loses line of sight- he'll be right behind her.
She still does, though. It doesn't keep him out of her head. It only makes the feeling worse.
"...It's been dislocated."
"Oh, wow! Genius! I couldn't figure that out myself-!" Salt snaps out, more tears springing to the corners of her eyes.
"Do you want me to help or not?"
When she glances back over her shoulder, she has to ignore the sickening feeling that settles over her at finding him gone.
-0-
The bartender sits in silence.
There's no one around in the backroom. Just a barely lit room with shaded windows and her reading by candle light even though she wouldn't have to if she hadn't spent the last night drinking, even though she'd known that the sunlight would exacerbate her head the next day- today. But she'd have to live with the past decisions of barely sober her. The finances for this month wouldn't wait for her head to feel better, after all.
She sighed lightly.
That party was a bad idea. She'd known it the moment they started cracking out bottles of rum and other liquors that were already too expensive for them to be buying. But she couldn't have put a stop to it if she tried.
The budget was taking quite the toll. Enough so that she was worried about their plans for the next couple weeks and how they'll even have enough to pay for the-
The door slams open. It hurts her head and she flinches back, trying not to think about the migraine.
"Hey…!"
She trails off.
It's Cona. Bruised and beat up and breathing heavily. It's gotten to be a familiar sight over the last couple days, as much as she didn't like it, but now it was beyond worrying. "What the hell- What happened?! Was that- Was that the damn fish-freak-?!" Her hand twitches towards a weapon, rage piercing her heart as the face flits across her brain. She'll kill him herself-!
But Cona doesn't let the murderous thought continue as she gasps, "Someone… sold the pirates out!"
Something cold and steely slides through her and the bartender feels her face drain of color, heart sinking.
Oh… Oh no.
"I… I don't understand! It- It had to have been one of us, unless we missed a line?" Cona falls to her knees, trying to hold herself up using the doorknob. "No. I'm s-sure of it. We double checked and everything-"
She feels sick. She feels gross. She feels her heart squeeze.
She raises her hand to stop her rambling, feeling her words tremble and taste like blood in her mouth. "It was me."
Cona doesn't say anything for a long time. Too long.
"...What?"
It's barely a whisper and on the border of a hiss.
She tries to keep the sudden tension in the room light. "Come on, you need help, I can take a look at-"
Cona rips herself away. Falling back, off her knees and nearly onto her back. The bartender feels her already pale face grow paler. "No-! W-W-Why-" She struggled to form a single word, much less a sentence, but she somehow does both. "Why the hell would you sell them out?! T-They… They helped us!"
"I know, I know they did but-"
"But what?! They did more for us than anybody else-"
The bartender feels a spot of fury begin to build.
"I know!"
"Look at me, I'm just collateral damage! What do you think they're going to do to that boy and-!"
It explodes. She was thinking of them-?! "Yeah, they took care of our immediate problem! Do you really think the factory would take it lying down?! What about us? What if they found out we were involved-? What if they found out about the people-?!"
Cona hisses.
"I protected us, they would've killed us all!"
"You did no such thing! You opened us up to be discovered-"
"No, I didn't-"
Cona slaps her bruises and the large palm print that's beginning to form on her skin. "They sent the Mime! Of course you did," she growls, "he'll figure us out if he gets too close! As stupid as he is, he's all they need to completely destroy us. What do you think they're going to do to those pirates?! To that kid and-"
"They're just a group of no-name criminals, nobody would care if they died!" It's the wrong thing to say. The bartender realizes with a twist of her heart. Cona blinks at her with half parted lips and horrified eyes. "No, w-wait, I didn't- I didn't mean it like that-"
"Tha… That's the same sort of attitude that would have us killed." She whispers. "...Or have you forgotten?"
"Of course I didn't. B-But I have to protect our girls first, we all have a dream, remember?" Her hands tentatively reach for her as she tries to save herself with words. It doesn't seem to be working and her voice grows more desperate. "If we get through the now, maybe it'll still have a chance to happen. The girls and us, we can have our tea shop and stores, and we can finally get married-"
Cona looks away. Voice quiet, "If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here right now."
Her fingers twitch and she closes her eyes, sucking in a deep breath.
"I-"
She opens them. Unapologetic.
"I did what I had to do. I'm sorry for that."
"...No, you're not."
They feel a shadow fall over them. And look up.
They're hearts stop.
"...No!"
It's- The Mime.
"What are you doing here?!"
-0-
Hunting Chang.
It's different from Starving. Despite looking aesthetically similar. The buildings are much more compact, small and squished together, to the point that it only really allowed for one road- the main one. Compared to the many alleys and crevices that seemed to make up most of Starving, it was a startling difference.
"Pardon me!"
He says, even though it's someone else that shoves into him. It takes half a second of quick thinking to remind himself to keep the flames down.
"Hey, why does the back of my neck feel hot- WHY AM I ON FIRE?!"
Ah…!
-Annnd he was too late.
Ace feels himself break into a sweat and walks a little faster, whistling like he didn't even hear the yells behind him. "Huh, this place sure doesn't seem like it's got a lot going on, yeah?"
Spice gives a bemused glance over his shoulder but doesn't say anything.
The screams get louder and there's, thankfully, the sound of a bucket of water being dumped over Ace's witless victim and suddenly the streets calm down.
"There's a lot more people here than at Starving!"
By a fair margin, actually; there also seemed to be good variety in ages, too. It's what makes it hard to keep up with Spice. Because the streets are absolutely filled to the point that he's brushing elbows with multiple people all at once and most of his attention is being taken up keeping his flames under control.
"A lot of them moved from over there. Especially the men and children."
Ace takes an elbow to the gut, it would've hurt normally. "Pardon-"
"AH, WHAT IS THIS-?!"
Whoops. Not again. He hides his wince by pulling down the brim of his hat. "I thought people didn't want to be here?"
"It wasn't a welcome move."
"They were forced?" Ace manages to dodge another couple people. Geez, were they trying to get in his way? "This many people?"
"Hunting has the job market. It also has the most food. As bland as the crap they sell here is…" He mutters that last part. "You can force people to do a lot if you're in charge of their paychecks." He thinks he might have explained more than that but Ace is forced to fall back a couple steps as a sudden crowd rushes between them. Oh, well. It didn't sound like something he'd get anyways.
Not through lack of intelligence, but Ace didn't actually have experience with the normal civilian-life, so he didn't really have a good idea about what Spice was trying to say. At least not with how it worked.
"Chehaha! I don't really understand but it doesn't sound great!" Spice eyes the sky with a long suffering look. "I get why all the men and stuff are here. But what's with all the kids?" There hadn't been any on Starving other than Salt from what he'd seen.
"Kids are small and have tiny hands, they can get into small places. Makes them good workers."
Ace looks around. The smoke he'd seen before rises up from the tallest building he can see, a large factory like structure with heavy chimneys. It's grey and pristine and it looks like every bit of money went into it. Ace didn't have to look for much longer to realize that he hated it. Everything else was just… rundown in comparison.
It's what- It brought to attention the fact that the people sorta reminded him of those from Grey Terminal. Some with meat on their bones and strength in their step, the top of the food chain, while others were less fortunate or unable to keep up, and were left barren. Not starving here per se, but definitely underfed. And dreary.
And even though there's so many people up and about, the place seemed to lack life and be bland. Which, for a place that supposedly produced the best spices in the world, felt like a weird dichotomy.
It just… seemed sad.
Someone walks through him. The yells light up anew.
He sighs this time.
Maybe he should start preemptively saying "pardon me" to everyone he sees? That… might actually work. Idea for the future.
"...Are you that bad at your devil fruit?"
"Oy, I'm still trying to figure it out!"
Ace grumbles. Besides, Spice couldn't talk, he didn't seem to be having the same problem he was. In fact, it's like the people were parting for him to walk through. "Hey, what gives?" He tries to walk at his heels in the hopes that it gets them parting around him as well. Thankfully, it seems to work. "Why is everyone making way for you?"
"...Are they?" He hadn't even noticed. "Huh. They must be seeing my gorgeous face and giving me a wide berth. I think I just have one of those faces."
Yeah, somehow Ace doesn't think that that's it.
"Beautiful people like me always have to worry about how intimidating we're coming across."
Ace is doubtful.
Sure, he's a pretty good-looking guy, all things considered, but one glance around has Ace realizing that the people are pointedly looking away from him. It's like they're pretending he doesn't even exist, head downs and everything. "Do they hate you or something?"
Spice blinks. "No? Are… you deaf? Did you not just hear me say that I'm-"
Ace snorts. "No, no, I heard that bit."
"Good. I wouldn't want you to miss out on my lovely voice either-"
"...Right." Ace is- Ace doesn't know if he's messing with him or actually being serious. The deadpan delivery makes it almost impossible to tell. It doesn't help that- is he skipping? He shakes his head. "They're not looking at you though."
"Well, they must be at some point, if they're going out of they're way to walk around me."
"Point."
"Does it bother you, cowboy?"
"Nah, it's just weird." It doesn't really matter. Che. If anything, it was a good thing. Now that he was walking behind him he didn't have to worry about lighting anymore people on fire by accident. The people here seemed… extremely flammable.
Ace made sure to keep at Spice's heels, lest he set fire to the whole place, and watched as the main road started to get less and less populated and even more drab by comparison. They'd walked quite a distance following the main road, almost to the other side of the island, until the factory had gotten to be mostly a lifting smog in the distance. He could still see the ugly- pristine; royal -roof and fixtures but it was a less obvious eyesore.
A fancy building surrounded by ruin. Ace was used to it, didn't mean he had to like it.
"Are you coming or are you just going to stand there with your mouth hanging open?"
"Huh?"
He'd slowed down just enough for Spice to pull ahead and stop by a small house. It was quaint even compared to the rest of the smooshed together buildings. A bit older-looking too, with peeling yellow paint and cracked wood with half-thrown together reparations nailed onto the wall. There was a small girl digging in the dirt outside it. Curly light brown hair and even darker skin covered head to toe in freckles that puts his to shame.
"Hnf, hnff! Where's it… where's it…?" She's got her tongue sticking out and is muttering to herself, lisp heavy to the point that her 'S's dragged and muddled up the other syllables. "C'mon, I gotta find it before-"
The girl notices them, hazel eyes blinking. Huh, she looked a lot like that Salt-kid and- "Ah! You're home!"
Spice glances down at himself, "I noticed." He says dryly.
"Um, um." She glances around, looking sweaty all of a sudden. "I'm not- I'm not looking for anything-! N-Nothing at all. There's nuthing here!" She quickly starts to pat the ground back into place and-
"Che!" Ace snickers.
She looks like Luffy when he's failing to lie.
"I see." Spice nods slowly, then gestures towards the home. "So when I walk inside and open the drawer, I'll find the ladle exactly where it's supposed to be."
"I…"
She's looking at her feet, swinging back and forth.
"Maybe not… exactly where it's supposed to be."
Spice raises a single eyebrow. "And where would that be?"
Oh, the guilty concious has taken over completely now. "Momma likes it, okay?! It's not my fault that she likes to bury it-!" He continues to stare down at her, unblinking. Her face continued to get redder and redder as it screwed up. "And I just wanted to play and- and-" She's fallen into a mumble now, cheeks puffed out and flushed. "I made a mistake. I forgot that she likes messin' with me."
Ah, she finally cracked.
Spice sighs, low and slow. "That's alright. Just remember to dig it back up."
"Ugh!" Ace snorts as she shrieks, clasping her heart. "Sis, says that it's even worse when you're not angry! She was right! It feels even worse!"
"If it makes you feel better, I made a mistake too."
"Ehh, no way! You never get anything wrong!"
Spice sniffs, dramatic. And Ace jumps as his hand falls to clasp him around the shoulders, "My perfection was sullied, by this incessant cowboy."
The girl- his sister, he could reasonably guess -looked at him in all her six-year-old glory and didn't seem convinced. It was an easy blow to the old ego to see that she also looked increasingly less impressed the more she took in. Ace frowned. "What did I do-?"
"Yeah, what'd'he do?"
"I made the mistake," he pointed to his hair, "of thinking that his braids were done by a hairstylist."
Ace greets her stare with his own blank look. Uh. Wondering what the hell Quinn was going to get him into without even being there. He could hear her laughing at him now.
She takes one look at him.
Points.
And then laughs.
"Y-Y-Y-You thought whoever d-did that was a hairstylist?!"
Ace pulls the brim of his hat down, "...I take it she's the one that likes doing hair?"
Spice pats him on the back. "Wow. Way to go, got it in one. I don't know how you do it."
…
…
Cinnamon had been busy preparing dinner while her youngest sister dug around for the ladle that Momma had gotten obsessed with sometime years ago, always attempting to run off and bury it somewhere they couldn't find. She thinks the old lady liked to watch Pepper run around and fret over the lost item- the only ladle they had and, while it would be easy to replace, Pepper didn't know that. And she- well, all of them -thought it was too hilarious to stop.
"Oh, Momma, you're too old to be having that much fun."
The old lady huffs at her, grumbling, before burying her head back in her large pillow to continue her nap. She never did like it whenever they brought up her age.
The coot.
Cinnamon shook her head, even if it made all her thin and beaded braids smack her in the arms, walking around to collect her dishes and bring them back to the sink. Listening to the shriek of Pepper realizing that Spice had caught her in the act of searching for the ladle. Ah, she brought it on herself. Indulging Momma's obsession and taking the ladle to go and tempt her with concepts of play and running and games. Only to lose it and miss where Momma buried it.
It was her own fault.
Cinnamon tilts her head to listen in from the open window.
"Your hair sucks though! It's completely falling out an' everything!" Oh, apparently she's also found someone to make fun of. Cinnamon feels herself unable to help but also start giggling at the absolutely raucous laughter that Pepper belts out. "What made you t-think that was by a hairstylist?!"
There's Spice, scratching his head.
Cinnamon has known her older brother since the day she was born, so while most people would find his expression impassive and blank, she can't help but notice the light dancing in his eyes. Playful and mischievous. To strangers, he must seem a little peeved, "I don't know hair, Pep. I thought it was-"
She's cackling and pointing now. "Y-You're so stupid-!"
"...Ooh, I like her."
That's someone she hasn't heard before. Cinnamon opens the window and leans out to try and get a better look, hands on the sil carefully balancing her as her legs lift off the ground the more she leans forward. "Hey, who're you-?" She blinks. Yellow shirt, freckled face, and a colorful… "Is that a cowboy?"
"Chehaha. Sorry, but no. I'm a pi-"
He grunts as Spice's hand pats him on the back. "Yes. Yes, he is." And watches the cowboy's face turn unimpressed towards her brother. "He's been following me around for the last couple hours." Apparently, they'd gotten into a fight as well. She eyes the cuts and messy state of them both.
Ha. He must be good if Spice let him hang around!
"Ooh~?" She mused, mouth quirking into a pretty smile. "What's got you so interested, huh?"
Cinnamon watches the freckled face pause long enough to grin widely at her, teeth showing brightly. "I want him to join my crew!"
It gets Pepper to stop laughing.
"What? NO!"
.
.
.
Bit of a dark one, innit?
There we go. First chapter of us finally, finally making it to Hunting Chang and I'm so excited for this section of the Twin Isle. I already wrote parts and pieces back when I was still writing the first few chapters which was- wow, a long time ago. A lot of stuff has changed since then but yeesh- there's still so much that's the same and I can't wait to get into it all and I can't wait to see what you all think or guess is going to happen! What do ya'll think of Cin and Pep so far? I like them a lo~ot. Even if you've only seen a little bit right now.
As always, I can't wait to hear what ya'll think!
