Author notes:
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The chapter was beta'd by the amazing Gerbilfriend who helped me a lot with grammar and paraphrasing and general ideas. My greatest admiration and respect :D
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Warnings:
English is my fourth language. Warning may change in the future.
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Flowerbelle
Thank you for your review and support.
I work hard on each chapter so I am happy it shows. I try to make it as enjoyable as possible.
I hope you enjoy the new chapter. Let me know your thoughts :).
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Guest (please choose name/nickname next time ^^)
I really enjoyed the conversation and interaction in this chapter! I really hope Marcy has more combat skills than just cheep shots (though they do end a battle) I feel like once they truly hit the big leagues she's going to need to be able to defend herself also I like the spin you put on their journey! Can't wait to read more!
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Thank you for your review.
I am glad to hear that. Marcy did train with Ace and Luffy, and Garp with his training speers, so she does know how to fight, but she is a believer in the fast way to victory, and to do what needed to get the job done fast and with less injures/flare/attention/not to show her cards.
But you are right, she would need to get much stronger to face what is coming next, but for now she is not alone.
I hope you enjoy the new chapter. Let me know your thoughts :).
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Guest (please choose name/nickname next time ^^)
Can't stop smiling and laughing... Love it soo please update soon!
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Thank you for your review.
I am soooo happy to hear that. Unfortunately life gets in the way. But I hope you enjoy the new chapter nonetheless, let me know your thoughts :)
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Guest (please choose name/nickname next time ^^)
MORE PLEASE THIS DID IS GREAT
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Thank you for your review.
Glad you think it is great!
Here is more. I hope you enjoy the new chapter. Let me know your thoughts :).
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Tentaclechan
Thank you for your review.
WB POV does appear here! Let me know if you enjoy it! And do you want more ;)
I hope you enjoy the new chapter. Let me know your thoughts :).
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see notes at the END, IMPORTANT please
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Hope you enjoy,
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5-6 days ago
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"Of course, young master Outlook, don't worry. The whole thing will be arranged as we agreed upon."
He listened to the reply from the other end with gritted teeth and forced himself to relax his jaw. His private doctor told him several times not to clamp his teeth together, gold molars grinding with his remaining normal teeth would grind the latter to dust. He should have had the doctor remove all of his remaining regular teeth and gotten all of them in gold instead. He did like seeing the twinkle of a gold in his mouth each morning in the mirror.
"Worry not, everything will be to your absolute satisfaction."
The smiling face of Bluejam fell as he ended the call.
Dealing with those spoiled-brat nobles was taxing on his nerves, if he didn't need them for his plans, he would have enjoyed seeing them burn like the trash they were.
Sweet revenge, he clutched his gloved hand, feeling the aching burn hidden under it. It was a reminder of the old days and what he had to pay, the sacrifices he had to make to get here. His glove was made from real golden threads as a reminder of the him now.
Of all the power and wealth that he had acquired since the accursed fire. It was finally time now, he intended to use all the power, wealth and connections that he had accumulated to achieve the goals that he had to put on hold for a long time (too long for his taste).
Step one.
Karma, pay back, revenge and all the shit. All of it would be his, he wanted. No, needed. He craved his well-deserved revenge on the brats.
And with the power he wielded now he sure as hell would.
The trick to being noble (to his chagrin and amusement as one) was quite simple: acting noble. It meant being haughty, superior, uncaring, demanding, unapologetic and needlessly cruel. Really! He should have been born under the lucky star, after all he was all of that and more.
In few years, he would correct fate's blunder and have a Celestial Dragon bestow on him a title fitting his stature, maybe a kingdom or two under his command. The Goa kingdom sounded like a good first step, it didn't need too much work to maintain and taking it from the Outlook bastard and his spawn would be delicious.
Thinking about the annoying brat that he spent the last half hour cajoling and coaxing (Really, after all of this! He still had to listen to snotty spoiled brats!), which was an absolute pleasure.
He had to deal with the Outlook brat with kid gloves (and not because of the brat's age! It was really a good thing his right hand was already gloved and would stop the snotty germs from contaminating him). Reminded him of the other shitty snotty brats that he had yet to deal with to his liking, like he had promised himself on that day.
Bluejam would have to call his men later to hear their update on finding those two shitty nuisances, they were ants that he wanted to crush under his feet, but somehow, they were still clinging to life like cockroaches hidden in the cracks, but not for long.
He had strong armed the marines into publishing their wanted posters, needed to use some cajoling from those Celestial Dragons to get it done.
They were very convenient to use, spoiled to the core. Only caring about getting what they wanted, not caring about anything that needed to be done to get it (even if it had absolutely nothing with their desired object). The problem was finding something that they wanted. But if you did…then the World Government and all of it powers were at your beck and call, ready to obey your every whim.
All he had to do was mention that because of those two specific brats, he couldn't get the shipment in time and presto!
The Celestial Dragon hadn't even bothered to look at the pictures and information he presented him, masterly faked (yet he was still worried about the CP0 looking at it too closely) but he needed not worry. Humans (and nonhumans) from any age, gender or race existed for the sole reason of serving them. Getting rid of some commoners in service to their master's pleasure was just a given.
And Voila, the wanted posters were issued.
The Celestial Dragon even suggested sending their pet, the CP0 to quicken the process but he didn't want to overreach and seem too desperate (they were trash, two small trash-brats and their big brother-trash), and he could use the Elite to take care of bigger obstacles for him in the future.
This he wanted to personally oversee (at least that what he had planned, and why he had come back to the accursed island). So, he had announced that the marines (and his men) would surely be able to handle such minor disturbance.
He should have overreached and used the freely given help from his masters. If he had done so, he would have two brats less to worry about, and maybe found more information about their big dear brother, that Fire Fist Ace, and to where the infuriating piece of scum disappeared to.
It had taken him sometime to connect the dots between the shitty small brat that dared not only steal from him but to stand between him and his precious gold (leaving him with the unforgettable memento of a burned hand) and the new rookie to shake to the New World.
He would take care of them, one by one... it was just a matter of time. He would begin by increasing the older brat's bounty. After all, Fire Fist was a notorious pirate with several notches under his belt, no one could argue against such a well-deserved increase, unlike with the two small annoying cockroaches that had not yet done any hideous crime (as they kept telling him) deserving of the high bounties he so desired.
The Fleet Admiral and his monkey of sidekick (that was kicked for his 'troubles' in performing his job well and loyally) were not too happy with him for such unreasonable demand.
Yet, they had no choice but to obey like the loyal dogs they were so proud of being. Still they dragged their feet while performing their sacred duty until he had to threaten them (mentioning the Celestial Dragons always did the trick).
The Wanted Posters were published a day after but with an insufficient bounty.
"Bluejam... sir."
His nervous assistant squeaked. The third one this month. Bluejam ignored him busy formulating his own plans. He preferred his assistant a nervous mess anyway, it made sure they stayed loyal to him (out of fear of nothing else and it didn't hurt that he paid handsomely), they didn't dare make any unnecessary moves or sounds afraid of displeasing him.
"B ... Bluejam... sir..."
Taking care of only two small brats was taking too much time and effort, he needed to speak with his men about it, to give them the needed incentive to bring him a better and faster results.
"Sir...?"
The assistant was fidgeting nervously clutching several papers and a special Marine Den Den Mushi (specially made for him to connect the Marines' HQ).
Bluejam could smell his sweaty fear, it was pleasant smell that reminded him of the old good days.
"Yes."
He uttered curtly with raised eyebrow above his cold glaring eyes.
His assistant looked even more nervous than usual.
"A call … for you from..." he swallowed, before whispering, "Vice Admiral... Garp."
Ohhh.. what did the Vice Admiral want now, he didn't seem pleased with how his adorable innocent grandchildren were being treated the last they spoke (the old crazy man was being dragged by several high-ranking officials while shouting colorful curses loudly at him that could make seasoned pirates blush, while he surveyed the proceeding, entrained at the old man's plight).
The fact that this was because of a trash scoundrel like him, according to the Vice Admiral's most articulate words, made the old toothless dog all the angrier in his barking. Having the old dog suspended and threatened didn't seem to stop him from making himself a nuisance, like a bug that just wouldn't die quietly (Really! The whole family, damn monkey-roaches).
Bluejam was working on making his suspension a permanent one. Maybe afterward Bluejam would make him into a scoundrel criminal. The hero of the marines as a traitor, No, worse! A fake hero and the truth that Garp the Fist was the enemy number one of justice, the latter had better ring to it if you asked him, a poetic payback.
"Hello, Vice Admiral Garp, or maybe should I call you Garp, after all you are on a long unpaid Vacation."
Garp laughed his obnoxious loud laugh unbothered by the implied insults, or maybe he didn't notice. Subtext was above the brain of this monkey, the monkey in his name was well deserved.
"I should have gone on vacation before. Who knew you can catch some big fishes when you were not actively hunting them, Bwahahahaha."
"Oh?"
He had a bad feeling about this…. Why would this monkey call him if it wasn't ..
"Oh Yes, a big catch! Some slavers that tried to kidnap mermaids intending to sell them in Paradise."
Mermaids, shit, no, no, his precious cargo was supposed to be safe and on the way to the... Those utter trash morons.
He had planned everything to perfection, paid who needed to be paid, convinced (AKA threatened) who needed to be convinced, and everything worked as it supposed to be, their job was only to ensure the cargo arrived to its destination.
His gloved hand clutched the desk. He was going to...
Bluejam forced his body and mouth to relax.
Breaking his desk or ruining his teeth over this would not do.
It was a desk crafted from Adam Wood by a famous crafter and its main purpose was to show his wealth and elegance. It was crafted in such an outlandish and detailed way telling several stories that entwined together, that it was impossible to replicate and was placed in the center of each room (he took as his office for the day) that it was the first thing his visitors saw and in turn it was the first thing they asked about with awe coloring their voices. The price of such delicate feast for the eyes was accordingly high, but first impressions mattered a lot to those shallow airheads nobles, so every Beli was well spent.
Bluejam swallowed several replies and made sure his voice stayed even, even and a bit cheerful.
"Congratulations! even on your well-deserved vacation you are keeping the world a safe place... but why are you telling me this?"
He paused and continued in a dismayed voice, having to deal with nobles for so long made him a master in acting, yet it was a good thing that this was a Den Den Mushi call and not a face to face meeting.
"Are you implying that I had anything to do with this act of folly?"
Garp laughed in reply, his amusement ringing loudly and filling the silent room.
"Of course not, you are respected businessman... It just..."
So, the monkey did understand subtext and he was trying to insult him, the one with all the power. Cute.
"..some of them are ex-employees of you."
Damn those morons, it was good thing that he took precautions against any screw ups.
"Are they? What a shame! To think that previous employees of mine would do something like that. It probably explains why they are no longer employed in such a respected company as mine." He paused and after few seconds trying to decide in the best approach in maneuvering the idiots' blunder.
"Terry! please remind me to speak with our hiring staff and instruct them to check any new employees we hire more thoroughly…" He trailed off.
If the monkey hadn't found anything why was calling him, was he lying and the morons said something, no, they knew better... or was he trying to check if he would let anything slip … or maybe, he was just trying to rattle him, taunt him, gloat that things were not sailing smoothly as Bluejam hoped (again!).
He would need to escalate his plans and make sure that this monkey could never again wear the precious uniform that he was so proud of.
"Oh, if you already found that such scumbags don't work for my respected company, then to what do I owe the pleasure of your call, shouldn't you be enjoying your vacation now that you did such good deed?"
"Bwahahaha, as they worked for you once upon time we had to check with you for any loose ends, and as I personally know you, I volunteered to call."
"How nice of you, especially when you are on an unpaid vacation .." the rude monkey cut him off with loud ear bursting laughter. He distanced the Den Den Mushi's receiver from his person but it was too late, his ears were ringing.
"..Bwahahahaha ... Did you happen to read the newspaper?"
He didn't like that laugh or the voice at all, it was somehow both cheerfully fake and cheerfully real at the same time.
"Not yet. I was quite busy. I was meeting with King of Goa and his future son of law, you know." He intoned, ignoring the persistent ringing in his ears and reminding the piece of shit who held all the power here.
"Page 7."
Garp said and added nothing more, he didn't even add his obnoxious annoying laugh.
Was whatever on page seven the true purpose of his call? What more could have happened, something worse than his plans being tampered with.
He gestured for Terry to give him the newspaper he had folded in his hands and was clutching for dear life, but Terry was staring at him with bugged eyes, biting his lips, he seemed one step away from shitting himself.
Bluejam glared, lowering his eyebrows and give a curt gesture with his hand. Terry reluctantly moved forward and handed him the newspaper with shaky hands.
Using those pieces of trash (they couldn't do a simple job) was a mistake.
Damn them, he was going to kill them. They were smart enough to keep their mouths shut for now but he would have to get rid of them in some kind of unfortunate accident, just in case.
Bluejam unfolded the newspaper and opened it at the right page while saying.
"You shouldn't have taken precious time from your vacation just to let me know there some news that I should be aware of…"
The Den Den Mushi receiver slipped from his fingers, the sound echoing in the silent room.
His voice involuntary uttering the words loudly.
"What the Fuc..."
Bluejam stopped himself biting his lips hard but he had already drawn blood. Both of his hands clutching the desk in front of him. The cracking sound of the expensive wood was clear in the quiet room.
"Good Luck .. " the obnoxious voice of the soon to be ex-vice admiral was suddenly heard disturbing the stunned silence with its loud and unmistakably gloating quality.
The long pause that followed it was calculated, some part of Bluejam's brain noted.
"...on your business."
Another pause, a short one this time.
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"Bwahahahaha Bwahahahaha."
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Clank.
The unpleasant ear throbbing laugh was his goodbye, but Bluejam didn't notice.
Even his throbbing ears were a minor unpleasantry in front of...
He was busy staring at the paper in front of him, his fingers planted into the broken wood of his Desk.
The cracking sound of expensive wood splintering was never even registered.
Bluejam was staring at the older brat. At his back.
A big picture of his f**king back with some tattoo on it, it was big ugly one.
He read the headline again slowly in his mind, trying to keep the lid on at his boiling rage (unsuccessfully by the big chunks of wood on the floor).
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Fire Fist Ace had officially joined the Whitebeard crew.
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XXXXX
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Now
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Whitebeard took a gulp of sake, shaking his head in amusement at his son's' antics.
The call with two brats had to be cut short when A.O came in and told Ace's siblings that they would be sailing in few minutes, leaving the island to sail back to the New World which didn't sit well with the girl at all!
And she had no issue with telling everyone what she thought about such decision, as well as the fact that it was made without consulting with her first.
Comments like they were a rude, inconsiderate, heedless, unmindful, thoughtless, tactless, and inept bunch was thrown around a lot, and murmuring about some flake she needed to squeeze, and check on some bunch to see of her technique worked and the much-needed manners were installed. Whitebeard had a vague feeling that the last bit was related to the story Ray from A.O's crew told them.
The little brat had a way with words and she used it wisely.
Enough said that the sailing was postponed for another two hours in the hope that brat finished her important business by then to her complete satisfaction. And to this end, the whole crew was enlisted to help the brat finish arranging her important business as quickly and as efficiently as possible.
His son A.O was going to have his hands full with those two. He should make sure that another ship was ready to take them from A.O's hands after they entered the New world for his son's and crew's sanity, and the one here, he thought eyeing the slumped figure of Ace, who was keeping himself busy by doing various manual jobs, trying to fix the damages from the fire as quickly as possible.
A readied coated ship waiting for them at Sabaody Archipelago would be a wise decision.
Who would be better suited to handle these two after A.O, Doma maybe? Whitey Bay? She had some of her men in Sabaody Archipelago already .. Maybe Oars.. He did seem pretty upset that he couldn't go search for them in Paradise.
He should speak with his allies either way to thank them for their help and have them find out more about this Bluejam guy while they were still in Paradise and find which Celestial Dragon was backing him.
He was just thinking that the days here were becoming a bit mundane, taking out a Celestial Dragon trash and the scum with it, bound to make things a bit lively.
He would have to obtain more information before he decided on such move.
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"Wait a minute, repeat that... Eat a lot of meat, only sometimes you can share it, in cases like… slowly Ishilly, we are writing here ... the other party also having yummy meat, or friends, people that owe you, would become... What? Oh... in your debt... "
His son Thatch's voice rung loudly, trying to write down and listen was a bit too much for his hyperactive son. He seemed in high spirits now unlike few minutes ago.
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Thatch was more than little upset when he found out he missed the call from the two brats while he was in the infirmary, doubly so, when nobody was willing to tell him what it was about despite all his pestering and continuous nagging.
Marco, before her left to oversee the cleaning, and repairs, had made it clear to Jinbe and Aladdin that if they breathed a word about the conversation he would ban them from listening in when the brats called again. Aladine had looked unhappy and flustered but he was keeping quiet. Jinbe was in such deep thought that the nagging didn't reach him, but Marco's warning sure had.
His eldest son seemed ever the older, he was worn out and jaded and it showed. Marco was functioning on fumes, and his mild and well controlled temper was neither mild or well controlled anymore.
Marco had practically bolted when he realized Ace was about to make a short call to the Red Hair brat using the Den Den Mushi the brat left to let him know that the two smaller brats were safe. But he returned and stayed besides Ace's side the whole call with an impatient throbbing eye and twitching shoulders.
The Red Hair brat was in the midst of a ruckus party that he had put on 'hold' to speak with Ace.
When the safety of the brats sunk in, the party restarted again even more ruckus, it was an uproar! Toasts in honor of the two brats were yelled, rain of unintelligible questions (probably about the brats) were shouted, laughter and howling made the Den Den Mushi jump and dance on the deck. Marco had no choice but to cut the call off (really, his eldest was waiting for that opportunity!)
Of course, the Red Hair brat called right back, and Marco grabbed the Den Den Mushi with Shanks' face on it and threw it into the sea without any hesitation, to the astonishment of all, he himself was enjoying the spectacle with good sake in hand.
The poor Den Den Mushi was saved by some of his brave sons that jumped after it. It was abundantly clear that the Den Den Mushi had stopped ringing.
It remained to be seen if it was functional after it dried (that was if didn't accidentally fell into the sea again).
Whitebeard eyes, were attracted once again to the figure of his brooding son, Jinbe.
Judging from his slumped shoulder and the smudged dark bags under his eyes, Jinbe had been agonizing about several matters for a long while. His incoherent explanations in the beginning and his inability to keep level headed and control his emotions and reactions were clear evidence of this.
Whitebeard couldn't remember when he had last seen him look this unsure, defeated, burdened by guilt and wavering.
Jinbe was blaming himself for.. well knowing his son for everything.
Whitebeard sighed. He usually preferred to wait until his sons came to him on their own with their problems, but no, not this time.
If he needed to strongarm it out of him, so be it.
Drowning into your own pit of self-pity and guilt wasn't something Whitebeard could watch idly and quietly by, especially with the alarming recent reports coming from Fishman Island and the look Jinbe had given him when he spoke about 'how the kidnapping might have occurred'.
All the signs were pointing to the possibility that the kidnapping was an inside a job or at least had the help of a fishman or two. Whitebeard was sure Jinbe had more insight on it, and that this issue was a factor to why he looked the way he did.
They would have to tread carefully while handling this, the fishmen and merpeople would not appreciate even the tiny implication that someone from them had a finger, or webbed hand in such a hideous crime.
After they finish listening to the story of those two brats about their time in the slaver's ship, he and Jinbe would talk longly.
He was sure that he and Jinbe have a lot of questions still about the accident to ask the brats, especially for Marcy, the one that had questioned the slavers personally.
Jinbe's first mate, in comparison, seemed to be enjoying himself. He also had a notebook like Thatch, Haruta and several others, and was listening intently while scrawling away. Every few seconds a loud chuckle or snort would emit from his throat, yet every once in a while he would glance at the brooding Jinbe's direction.
"Don't ...eat toma … tomatoes, .. you are sure it is tomatoes not .. cucumber or maybe celery?" Thatch's voice echoed on the deck, the dismay and distress clear in his voice.
"Yeah... yeah, I know that you know how to read… I just need to think about knew sauce for the pasta without tomatoes now... Sauce that's as delicious ... hmm… please tell me that there is no mention of onions or garlic."
His son had both hands clutched in front of the Den Den Mushi as if praying, probably to this new god, some called him Ace or the Meat God.
"Nooooooo, wait! What did you say? Repeat it, I missed it .."
A call had come few minutes ago from Doma's ship to check with them about the current situation, especially because they couldn't get hold of A.O's crew.
Haruta used this opportunity to get Thatch to stop nagging him by asking Doma loudly about the religion and Doma in his turn called Ishilly, and she in turn brought The Book.
Thatch had then the brilliant idea of copying it, in preparation for impressing the new Gods, brother and sister, into joining their humble family.
Whitebeard took another gulp from the sake bottle, musing idly to himself.
The two brats were something else, they were yet to sit foot on the Moby, no, they were yet to meet any of them face to face, and yet his sons and daughters, adults and 'mature' notorious pirates, were sitting around small Den Den Mushi with notebooks and pens, like good little children in school, copying every word their teacher were telling them with anticipation as if they were preparing to the test of lifetime.
"Gu ra ra ra ra ra ra ra," Whitebeard didn't bother holding his amusement at the funny picture they made.
He himself had yet to officially meet them, but from hearing about them from Ace and the two conversations that he had the real pleasure of listening in to he had already formulated clear picture of their true character, and really, he didn't think his impression would change after meeting them.
Where to begin? Whitebeard thought trying to organize his thoughts.
The boy, Luffy D. Monkey, the one to hold his physical legacy (and maybe his spiritual one?!), was a D, maybe the D.
He would have to hold his final judgment until he met him.
If he was the true holder of his whole legacy, then...
No, this wasn't the time for him to build castles of sand. He would only consider what it meant if he was absolutely sure.
The boy might be immature, selfish, idiot and dumb as his big brother and sister adoringly called him in occasions, but he was much more than his happy facade.
Some would think that his sister was the one running the show, but that wasn't the case.
She was running the show according to him, she needed to twist and bend reality to fit his thoughts, needs and wants.
If his family and friends were not in grave danger, he would not have even considered coming to Paradise or even the New world, but his doing so was not from selflessness, but from the selfish desire to protect.
Marcy had said it herself that she needed to drag him all the way, every time she needed something she needed to fight, twist, lie and beg for it, while he never did any of that. No, he just did what struck his fancy while she ran in circles around him trying to anticipate his choices. Sometimes after him and sometimes in front of him to make a way for him (praying that he would not suddenly turn and take another bath).
He was the one with power to lead as had demonstrated when his sister was in distress, his voice was commanding, no one dared argue, everyone just instinctively obeyed his orders.
Whitebeard wished he saw him in that minute, what kind of face he had, what kind of look flickered to life in his eyes.
The brat was not afraid of anything, it was evident by how he took control of things when his own sister was hesitant. He would face anything in his way straight ahead without flinching or even considering the consequences…. No, that's wasn't completely right. He was afraid, but not for himself, never for himself. But for those that were precious to him, just like Whitebeard.
His own worst nightmare flashing in his mind, him, the holder of the title 'The Strongest Man In The World', failing his sons and daughters, unable to protect them. Whitebeard would bet his life, it was the same for the brat.
Even though the brat was clearly selfishly stubborn, he wasn't stubborn for the sake of being stubborn, he was stubborn when it mattered. He did know when, where and how to pick his fights and when to disclose information.
If only by how he handled the matter of his sister's injures. He made sure that she was cornered into giving answers by him and Ace. Whitebeard was sure that the brat asked her numerous time before if she was okay and if it did hurt which she deflected and gave vague answers, and she would have done the same when Ace asked without any of them being the wiser (especially with them being unable to see her) if it wasn't for how the cheeky brat had handled it.
It may seem to others that the brat was only being idiotically childish, but he had done the job in the most natural way. In way that no one had considered that anything had happened out of the ordinary.
He also had no guilt about deflecting an unwanted situation, putting the light on others, his brother and sister in most cases in his own unique childish way.
His intelligence wasn't something that could be measured in a normal way and him being compared to his regular age group was just ridiculous. Even using the most unconventional ways would not give any insight to how the brat's brain worked.
His straightforward attitude and his smiling, easy going personality would fool many into underestimating him. A big mistake, for some it will be the one mistake they can't afford to make, he already knew.
Monkey D. Luffy did remind him of Roger in this aspect.
Those that knew of the Pirate King were scared shitless of him, painting him as the monster, as the devil (the impression that Ace had to grow up with), those that only meet him for brief encounter thought of him as an idiot with muscles and maybe some special power and a lot luck, nothing more.
Those that truly knew him, knew that behind the unwavering idiotic smile hid a fearsome stubborn mind, that worked his way around problems in mysterious ways.
Whitebeard had to meet the brat personally before he made any judgment calls about what kind of D he was. Was he the lost piece, the one they were waiting for.
The boy had caught the attention of not only him, but of Red Hair by the age of seven and of Mihawk 'Hawkeyes' the one blessed with keen sight, if what the brats told was true (and he was sure it was).
Whitebeard hummed under his breath, his eyes losing their focus as old memories surfaced anew.
Whitebeard narrowed his eyes, willing himself to focus on the present, and gulped another long swig of the sake, swallowing the nostalgia with every mouthful, washing it away.
Now to the other brat, Marcy. Her name was a mystery in itself.
It wasn't that unusual to have only a name or nickname as the title of a wanted poster, even as the sole information about a new pirate, but when he had asked Ace about it. It was only for a second, but Ace had frozen. His face showing a flash of genuine fear, anger, hatred...
Those emotions had vanished quickly, Ace only shrugged in answer, refusing any eye contact.
The memory of Ace telling him the first time about his siblings sprang to his mind. Ace had implied then that her upbringing brought about her 'twisted' and manipulative personality. Her biological 'family' wasn't only a sour subject but something of mystery.
Then came the girl herself.
She surrounded herself with air of mystery and ambiguity, but to his sharp mind and vast experience, he was pretty sure he had a good grasp of her personality and attitude. But that didn't mean that he had a 'handle' on her, no, far from it.
Because he knew, he could appreciate how unpredictable and dangerous she could be.
She was smart. No, smart didn't seem to fit here, but he would not go as far as to call her a genius.
She had the intelligence of someone that was well read, planned everything meticulously and considered her options with fine-tooth comb, but she also had the intelligence of someone that read the situation and adapted accordingly and immediately.
She had (or maybe her environment had forced her) to hone her survival instincts to perfection, in the process amplifying her suspicion of everyone and everything.
She didn't care what she needed to do, to keep herself and her brother alive.
To her, it wasn't question of what should I do, but what to do next.
Treasures, islands, people, words, everything and anything can be a method in her arsenal to be utilized if it meant she can survive using it.
She would get angry, yell until her voice was gone, throw tantrums like spoiled brat, have an epic breakdown, cry until she bled, bled until she was in the verge of dying, bow her head and beg like someone that had never heard of the word pride, lie with smile in her face without any ounce of regret burdening her.
Be it the most heinous or shameful, or the most atrocious vile thing imaginable, if it meant she would survive, would move forward, then she would do it.
Not doing it would never ever even cross her mind.
It was really quite simple, if you didn't want to be used or discarded, then never come in her way to begin with.
Her every move was calculated to the sole purpose of her and her brother's survival. If he hadn't seen the care and emotions she showed while speaking with her brothers, he would have thought she was incapable of feeling.
Whitebeard snorted in self humour at the memory of his polite confrontation with her.
It was amusing and quite telling how much she cared for and loved her big brother. She had bluntly threatened him without really using any 'threatening words', if he dared hurt her brother, both physically and mentally, he would have to answer to her and no doubt the other brat too, yet she had the gall to accuse Ace of being overprotective.
It wasn't that she was unfeeling person, pondered Whitebeard.
No, it was more that her heart didn't have a place for that many people in it. Her heart was a fortress, that Ace and Luffy had waltzed themselves into, everyone else was an enemy or pawn, in some cases (such as theirs) maybe a temporary ally.
She was polite while speaking with them either because that would help her get something or because that was expected from her when handling allies of her brother.
Yet, when she was with her brothers, less on guard. She was not afraid of joking and making fun of others, not only of her brothers.
Whitebeard eyed his cheerful son that got burned the most from her teasing (Oh the irony, that his physical burns, even though not serious, were the consequence of her crying).
She had one 'sick' sense of humour, in these few instances some of her true self, buried deep within layers above layers, shone.
Her breakdown (it was as real as it could be) showed that even she had a breaking point, it wasn't the fact that she had forgotten her birthday that had upset her so much, it was merely the boiling point.
For someone so meticulous like her, that fussed about the smallest of details, that methodically calculated every option, to miss her own birthday was something unthinkable.
He had no doubt that her birthday held special meaning to her, beyond the obvious reasons.
It was something that she clearly looked forward to, waited for.
This was evident by her own muttering about her plans for that day. She hadn't waited for others to bring her gifts and wishes, she planned what each one should bring her. She had planned the whole day, plans she made more than three months prior to the happy occasion was to take place.
He could make an educated guess about its importance, it may have symbolized her maturing, her strength, the fact that she was alive, that she was the master of her own fate.
The mention of her age and the missed birthday were merely the catalyzation. Her breakdown was merely a symptom.
This journey made the survival mode she 'lived' with soar to the extreme, it wasn't healthy at all (but really, he wasn't one to judge, the doctors were telling him for years to stop drinking, to feel some kind of pity on his liver. He drank a long toast in the remembrance of their advice).
The challenge of staying alive while forces known and unknown were after you. When every person you may encounter may become potential enemy, especially to paranoid and suspicious person like her. While Carrying the responsibility of her brother survivor in the same care she was carrying her own.
Making sure her body and mind were always in alert. Her body consistently coiled like a spring to attack or defense in the drop of hat, to always to be on guard …. then finally after three long agonizing months the salvation may had just arrived. They had found him.
Finally, she could sleep with one eye open, instead of two. She had just begun to realize that it may be okay to let go just for a tiny bit of the coiled thread she had made her body turn into... and just as she begun to unwind the realization that she was sixteen struck her unprepared, ill-equipped to even remember when her happy occasion occurred, that she had unknowingly sailed by it and that was the straw that broke the tigress' back.
The coiled thread was just released.
.
'Handling' her would be quite tricky, she would not give an inch, while her younger brother would bluntly and loudly share his thoughts, and refuse to budge from them. She would not give her true thoughts and feelings away to begin with except if it benefits her to do so.
It was lucky that Whitebeard loved challenges.
Things were about to become lively around here.
"Pops?"
A familiar voice cut the threads of his thoughts. Speaking about D's, here came another one.
"Hello, Teach. How was your journey?"
"Good but long. Things look lively around here .. Zehahahahahaha!"
"Gu ra ra ra ra ra ra .. Gu ra ra ra ..."
The two brats brought chaos to his home without even trying to do so. Lively was a good word to use.
"Indeed," agreed Whitebeard wholeheartedly, but give no more explanation. He would not take the fun from his sons and let them share the tales of the last few days with the 'new arrivals'.
"Everything went okay in the mission? you took a long time to get back." asked Whitebeard, his eyes narrowed.
Every once in awhile they had a new rookie or another try to take over one of their territories (without directly attacking them), especially the distant ones, thinking this was the best way to climb the ladder of fame.
Taking care of such naive, immature bunch shouldn't have taken much of a time, unless there was something else he didn't know about.
"Yeah, there was more than just the one group terrorizing the islands, it took time to chase and catch them all."
Teach explained to him, his eyes shining with unconcealed laughter at the fate of those unfortunate enough to challenge them.
"I see! You must be tried. You should rest, my son. You can give the report about what happened later. After things calm down here and you and the group have enough rest."
"Thanks pops, I am a little hungry, so I'm going to the kitchen first."
He turned around to look in Thatch's direction, who had his head down, concentrating on his writing.
"Thatch seems busy, I thought I could ask him to make me one of his delicious cherry pies."
His son licked the saliva from his lips before they slid down his chin.
Teach may not have the D Ambition and Drive but he definitely had their Appetite and the love for good food.
Whitebeard sometimes wondered if it was the right decision to have Teach join him. He couldn't help but feel that he was standing in the way of his son's growth, that his presence stopped Teach from aiming high, from reaching and achieving his potential.
"Pity, I will have to ask him to bake me one or two when he is less busy... Zehahahahahaha!"
His son, left laughing his distinct laugh while eyeing the chaos around him with unconcealed mirth.
While Whitebeard's eyes followed the disappearing back of his son, his mind was travelling down the memory lane.
His last conversation with Roger rose in his mind.
.
"What does this 'D' even mean?"
"You wanna Know? ... Fine, I will tell you. It's story from long time ago….
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When the loud voice of his son, Izo, brought him back to reality.
Strange, what could make Izo lose his composure and raise his voice. Izo was proud of his self-control, the only thing he could think that could raise his hackles was...
"What the hell do you think you are doing, Thatch?"
The antics of his other son, Thatch.
What idiotic thing did he do now to earn Izo's wrath.
Whitebeard was still wavering between dread and anticipation, when his eyes landed at Izo, who was desperately angling himself away from Thatch's reach.
"I am trying to deliver you from Evil!"
Thatch yelled while desperately trying to reach him.
Evil? What was his son bubbling about?
Whitebeard looked at the reaction of his scattered sons and daughters that were watching the proceeding intensely. Their reaction ranged from confusion and wonder to uncontrollable laughter.
He heard someone loudly shriek, "Izo is pregnant?" followed by thumping sound.
Whitebeard burst laughing, turning his head from side to side looking around for who had the balls to deliver the happy news.
"By trying to strip me of my kimono?" Izo demanded with irritation, he had clearly not heard the happy news or else his guns would be blazing and his mild irritation would be murderous.
"Yes! Dresses are evil!" Thatch insisted, his grabby hands trying to reach the ends of Izo's kimono, but Izo skillfully danced out of his reach, succeeding in keeping the distance between them.
"What you mean evil? Did someone hit him on the head again?"
Izo's question was directed to the watching masses, Thatch was a lost cause.
Their replies were a hesitant shake of their heads and murmurs of unsure, no.
Thatch had the kind of personality that made you doubt a universal truth, not because of his bright personality, but because of his stupid naivety.
"No, the Gods said so." Thatch tried to explain the insanity.
"Please tell me he isn't high on some kind of mushrooms again." Izo begged in desperation.
Thatch huffed at the uncooperative treatment he was receiving and grabbed a discarded notebook from the floor, flipping it and then he showed Izo a page while he quoted the words from memory, "Dresses are the absolute form of evil and should be burned when encountered, immediately."
Thatch closed the notebook, his hands coming to stay on his hips, daring anyone to argue with the proof he just presented.
His compelling presentation earned him a howling laughter, sniggers, and fits of hysterical giggles.
"We should call God Ace to help bur..."
"Thatch," Izo intoned coldly cutting him, ignoring the ruckus around them.
Some of his sons recognized the tone of the voice and what it implied, and took several huge steps away from the two and hid their laughter behind hands to decrease its volume, watching in delighted anticipation the one sided take down that was about to happen.
Izo with grace of eagle spreading his wings drew the pair of flintlock pistols he was known for wielding from his kimono's sleeves and aimed both of them at Thatch's head.
"You touch my kimonos, any of them. I will make you look like that swiss chess you adore so much."
His son's survival instincts (that he wondered if Thatch had sometimes) had finally and timely kicked in and he froze, yet he still persisted by saying.
"But, I am trying to save you..."
"Thatch, if I ever need saving from you. I will burn my own kimono myself," Izo snapped.
He heard Aladine, who had moved to his side dragging oblivious Jinbe with him, murmur to his dizzy, uncomprehending son, 'he never thought he would say this, but it was truly lucky that mermaids had a tail instead of legs, split tails didn't count in the sea. They need not worry about any dresses to burn'.
.
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"Anyway...kimonos are not exactly dresses, they are traditional full-length robes," murmured Izo quietly to himself, while shaking his head in weariness, dealing with Thatch was tiring. It felt like a punishment, and he had enough punishments for today. He was going back to his room to relax and leave the others to handle all the mess. After all of this, he desrv...
"Oh, why didn't you just say that!" Thatch exclaimed loudly from behind him and grabbed the notebook from the floor again, opening it and began scrawling down something, he stopped and looked at Izo with his big goofy smile and cheerfully added in a reassuring voice.
"Don't worry I will write that a kimono isn't a dress, so it shouldn't be burned, and make sure the other believers know it too. That's way there will be no more misunderstandings in the future."
For some reason, this didn't make Izo feel one bit better, it actually made him feel worse as he stomped back to his room, leaving a very satisfied looking Thatch behind.
…
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XXXXX
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...
"Here it is," Dracule murmured to himself, he was better known to his enemies and 'allies' alike as Hawkeyes, the Greatest Swordsman in the World.
He was a bit irritated. It took him more time than he expected to track down where Red Hair was staying at this time.
His sharp eyes were eyeing the far shape of the Red Force, the home of the annoyance that he was pursuing.
It was anchored near a deserted island as per usual, he and his crew were most likely celebrating something or another, the man, for a yonko, was too casual.
Hawkeyes looked forward to see the reaction of the easy-going yonko when he heard about the boy and his sister's adventure… with him.
They were a very interesting duo. He understands now why the Red Hair was excited about meeting the boy and why he left him that hat.
He met very few people, Shanks included, that could look him in the eyes for more than few seconds without flinching or averting their gaze.
The boy was truly special, for the whole voyage together, he had never ever had conversation with Hawkeyes without looking him straight in the eyes. It didn't matter what the boy chatted about, he always, always looked him in the eye, not as challenge, but as an equal.
The girl did flinch several times at first, but she adapted quickly. Unlike the boy, she was respectful and always kept a physical and mental distance from him (not that it would help her). She was always weary and on guard (smart choice, still would not help her), but she had the guts to subtly, at first, to try to manipulate him to get them to "safer" island and stay with them for a bit longer (under his protection), and then when she understood that he was able to read her clearly, she didn't back down.
No, she forewent subtly. Marcy then did it bluntly.
He had seriously considered staying with them longer, even helping them find their big brother, just for the entertainment value the two brought.
He really couldn't remember the last time where he didn't need to actively go search for something, anything to allay his boredom.
When he found out several days ago where their brother was, he regretted a tiny bit not sailing with them. He would miss seeing the meeting the duo had with Whitebeard, and he might have just lost a chance to pick a fight with strongest man in the world.
Really! Such a pity! He should have known that their journey would lead them to the most entertaining places.
The duo was truly fascinating, they had each a unique personality, mannerism, and perspective, yet somehow they were able to work as team without a word being exchanged between them. He looked forward to see how both of them would grow and develop in every aspect, but the boy was the one that truly quirked his interest.
The boy, just after Hawkeyes picked his drowning body from the sea, had seriously asked him to join his crew (a non-existing crew at that), to be under his command, without knowing who he was, and even when he introduced himself (which was a new experience to him) and his sister after she get over her shock (very quickly) tried to explain to the boy.
Nothing either of them said affected in any way his cheerful demeanor, and the boy had stubbornly repeated the question, more like demand.
…
"Oh, so you are strong." The boy said tilting his head to inspect him, his hand holding the hat that on his head protectively.
The boy clearly didn't know who he was, and neither did he truly care, what was his criteria for asking someone to join him then?
"Greatest Swordsman in the World."
The world felt dry and flat as he had said them, for him to have to introduce himself... He was not sure he knew to put a specific name or title on his feelings.
"Cool, is that why your sword is so big?"
Oh, now he had a word. Dracule felt extreme bafflement, unsure how to answer, he didn't remember ever being asked that before. In the corner of his eyes, he saw the sitting girl palming her face, and heard quiet desperate murmur of logic and doom.
The boy didn't seem upset when an answer wasn't forth coming, he just shrugged and kept going.
"Your sword looks amazing, so, wanna join my crew?"
The criteria to join his..., no, there was no criteria. It was as random as it could be, no, whatever struck the kid's mood.
For all the reasons in the world…
"Not right now, in another two years." The boy was counting on his hand.
"I am supposed to set sail when I am seventeen, but I already have the best navigator ever and cook …."
.
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"Kukukukukukukuku," Dracule laughed at the memory now as he did then.
The laughter, didn't deter the boy from continuing with his explanation.
So Dracule had waited respectfully and amusedly for him to finish and just as seriously he had refused.
The boy, Luffy D. Monkey basically stared him down when he announced that he would not only find a better swordsman than him as his crew mate that would snatch the 'Greatest Swordsman' title from him, but that he would become the Pirate King.
Luffy, D. Monkey, not only didn't flinch or even blink when he announced this. He said it in so much conviction, it was as if it was a truth that he could see right in front of his eyes.
.
Dracule ignored the scared stares and the murmurs as he jumped from his boat to the shores, and demand form the Red Hair lackeys calmly.
"Where is he?"
None of them answered him, some even tried to demand in shaky voices an answer for the reason of his presence here.
Those adults, pirates, from a yonko's crew to boot, didn't hold a candle to a small boy that stood tall and sure, and calmly, with no hesitation spoke to him as if he was speaking to an old friend.
He had no business with those lackeys, he was about to demand again where was their captain when he glimpsed several pirates running to specific direction, probably to announce his unannounced arrival.
Dracule followed them slowly, ignoring the quivering pirates that moved instinctively aside to open a wide path for him. He used his observation haki to confirm what he already knew.
It took him less than two minutes to find him.
He was sitting on a log in the shadow of an umbrella, as ridiculous as it was for man of his standing and caliber to sit like that, he somehow pulled it off, seeming as relaxed as king sitting on his comfortable, golden throne.
As usual Red Hair had a bottle in his hand and his Nakama were surrounding him, laughing and celebrating whatever struck his fancy today.
Although the expression on his face was dark, not even bothering to look at him, when he greeted him.
"Yo Hawkeyes, long no time no see. I am not feeling too good right now."
The effects of the alcohol no doubt mused Dracule, the man had no self-control when it came to drinking and partying.
The sky around him had been slowly darken, subtly, a regular eye wouldn't be able to detect the change until it was too late.
The voice of the Yonko was as calm as the wind before the storm.
"Did you come to have a fight against me?"
Red Hair had a laid-back attitude, which made people mistakenly underestimate him but they were fools! He was a yonko for a reason.
Red Hair Shanks was strong, the mastery that he had over his haki was something almost unheard of.
He was his sparring partner as Red Hair used to say, and for very good reason.
Even though Red Hair never considered himself as swordsman in any official capacity, he was skilled. Skilled enough to fight him equally numerous times and keep his life intact.
That was why he scorned the word sparring, he didn't wield his sword for exercises and play, but for bloody battles.
Red Hair coming back without an arm, made him feel a deep loss, he would never admit that especially anywhere Red Hair could overhear by chance (that was what he needed, an emotional drunk yonko in his hands). Hawkeyes lost someone to measure his power against, to challenge himself against.
Even though, Hawkeyes knew the Red Hair now (with only one arm) had no claims about challenging and standing with his sword against him.
But it wasn't the same.
He knew that winning against Red Hair, even with him having one hand wouldn't be easy. It may take several and several long and tiring fights that each one of them would take him to the edge. But it would not be the same. There would be always a niggling spark of doubt that Red Hair only lost to him because he lacked a hand.
So, he was interested and yet holding some kind of contempt for the small boy that made him lose his sparring partner.
Yet, now, having had meet him, maybe sacrificing an arm of an unparalleled swordsman to save this small boy was not such a waste.
"I have no interest in challenging a one-armed man like yourself," he told him flatly while he took out the two wanted posters from the inside of his open coat.
"However, I came across interesting pirates while I was in East Blue, and it reminded me of something you told me a long time ago."
He paused, the posters secured in his hand.
"A story about small village and an amusing little kid..."
Laughter and bright faces greeted him as clear as the sudden blue sky, even before he opened the posters to show them.
"Luffy and his sister, I found about it not long ago and had panic attack," Red Hair told him laughing, not a bit bothered with sharing a weakness with an enemy.
"We just got a call from their big brother they found them and they are safe."
That wasn't the reaction he was hoping for, but he had an ace up his sleeves.
"They should be, I brought them to the Grand Line after all," he told the happy pirate flatly.
The happy faces of the captain and his crew were replaced by confused ones.
"What?" Shanks finally mastered his mouth to utter, before a barrage of questions accompanied with all kind of laughter and cheers were yelled at him all at once.
"You met Luffy?"
"Sailed with him?"
"How was he?"
"Shouldn't you ask if Luffy sailed with him?"
"Who cares for the small details, we are talking about Luffy!"
"What his sister like?"
"Did Luffy steal your food?"
"Did she kick you in the balls?"
"Broke your nose?"
He had their undivided attention, too much of it, what a noisy uncultured group.
He said calmly over the loud noise.
"They crashed into my boat while I was in East Blue, I recognized your hat."
Red Hair's face changed, he was like a man eyeing his prey with inviting smile. His crew feeling the change quieted down.
"Well, then, Hawkeyes."
Hawkeyes raised slightly his eyebrows, not bothering with verbal reply.
"I can't let you go just like that."
Red Hair stood up, threw drown the empty bottle in his hand and took several steps to his right away from Hawkeyes and sat down on the same log while gesturing for Hawkeyes to sat beside him, patting the log, inviting him to sit like he was a mere child.
"Bring more sake... Sit down, sit down..." he laughingly said. Hawkeyes didn't appreciate the treatment or the invitation. Yet it wasn't anything new, this was Red Hair being himself.
"Sit down already," he demanded
Hawkeyes sighed and did, it just wasn't worth it.
"Tell me everything," Red Hair demanded greedily, and then to his crew he asked.
"Where is the sake?"
"I think we finished our supply!" someone answered their captain.
"What? Find us more, we need to celebrate."
"We have been celebrating for the last three days" someone else murmured.
Shanks snatched a cup and bottle, and poured generously.
"Hawkeyes, drink up, drink up."
The drunken pirate told him, cheering and encouraging him to drink.
"We are going to party today."
"You seem to have already done that!" He found himself telling 'Red Hair' that had a red face from drinking to match it.
"Don't mind that, now is this is the real party .. Dahahahahaha."
"Isn't too early for this kind of drinking?" he murmured while gulping the last of his drink.
"Dahahahahaha .. bring everything, we are going to get WASTED... Dahahahahaha.."
Shanks looked at him in the same cheerful and serious manner as the boy had and he demanded in quite voice and eyes sparkling with excitement, "Tell me."
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The sound of the ruckus and laughter could be heard for miles and miles as the yonko crew celebrated.
With the sky clear and the wind still, you even could hear some of their shouts and happy yells from far off.
"He asked you to join his crew...Dahahahahaha…. Crew that has yet to form… Dahahahahaha !"
.
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"Because your sword is so cool … Dahahahahaha!"
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A sudden howling wind carried the voice of a clearly enraged Yonko.
"Don't tell me to calm down, Benny. What do you mean that Luffy isn't meeting me at the sea but meeting YOU instead."
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"Kukukukukukukuku."
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"Hawkeyes, dammit!".
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What are your thoughts? Which POV you liked the most? Best moment? Your thoughts about Marcy and Luffy after WB insight? Do you agree with him?
This is different from what I usually write for this fic, what do you all think? And I revealed a lot of plots points that I planned to keep hidden for a while still.
To tell you the truth I intended to continue the 'conversation' in this chapter, but when I tried to write it (in my infinite nonexistent free time) the chapter fought back (like seriously), and I changed this chapter plan more than five times until I wrote this.
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Annnnnnnnnnnd to happy news in my bad week (like month and a bit):
I finally updated my Shanks's Choice story, go check it out and share the love and any great ideas you have. Seriously go.
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My amazing, most talented friend, the cool and lovely NightsBlackRose13 gifted me with this beautiful picture of Marcy as the cover image. I am lucky to call her a friend! Hope she feel better soon! LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
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I Want to thank my dear friend Black' Victor Cachat that inspired me to write the first part of this chapter, and kept me in high spirits in those shitty times. I would recommend you to go and read his OP stuff, as you know (if you don't then shame on you :D) I am obsessed with Ace's stories, especially Ace survive marineford stories (go read my AaC , shame on you if you hadn't ;)), so I recommend you to go and read his stories in One Piece: Ace Lives, that I had the honor and pleasure to beta.
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Leave a review and help a friend in hard times. ^^