I'm back!

Yes, indeed, I am not dead friends. I'm sorry to say that the reason of my absence is because of an injury I sustained and consequently sucked all the life out of me. I'm doing much better though, and I'm back and ready to go!

Hope you enjoy the chapter,

L & D

Disclaimer: Chapter Title inspired by STP and One Piece is most certainly not mine.

She was a complete, utter idiot.

Anne bolted down unfamiliar and unpaved roads, her breath caught in her throat and a scream crawling its way into her windpipe. She tripped over an untied shoelace, her whole body crumbling on top of itself. Her mouth took in a good chunk of dirt, and her eyes were completely caked. It took a few second to spit out all the grains, and to wipe at her watering eyes, but Anne managed to orient herself, sitting in the middle of the road, completely filthy and lost looking.

A whimper left her mouth, and a shudder ran up her spine as she stumbled to her feet, trudging over to a nearby building that she could sit down and lean against. Her chest was heaving, up and down, up and down, and the very acute sense of distress washed over her.

"Damn it," she said, drawing her knees up to her face, "Ah, I screwed up. I really screwed up." She wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them in ever closer to her torso. "What kind of selfish asshole am I? Oh, that's right, Piques Anne, I almost forgot, winner of crazy bitch of the year award." She sighed, shaking her head.

She looked up, hazy clouds obscuring the starlight, and furthering Anne's bad mood.

"Well, shit. I come here looking for a star reader and there ain't any stars. What a joke."

It was strange to see a town so utterly empty. Anne had lived in a particularly slum-ish part of Loguetown; that said, everything was much more vibrant when it was after daylight hours there. It's almost comforting how dilapidated the building are, with the crumbling sheet rock and roofs in various states of disrepair. Her eyes wander, and a young woman with striking strawberry blonde hair stares back at her through a dimly lit window. The girl's angular face and high cheek bones contrast under the candle she holds in her hand; Anne is certain that the girl is a specter. The woman turns her head, gesturing to someone out of view.

Anne does not expect the beast of a man that appears behind the glass, nor the how the two are rather domestic in how he puts a hand on her shoulder. It was intriguing. The woman waves a hand at her, the man looks, but he rolls his eyes dismissively. The girl doesn't look especially convinced, but she blows out the candle, and everything is marginally darker.

Feeling slightly lonesome, Anne rolled onto her back, splayed out on the ground rather inelegantly.

She closes her eyes, fully intending to fall asleep then and there.

"I'm sorry miss, but it's dangerous to be out here at this hour; the bars are about to close and all the old sailors will have no where to cause trouble but the streets."

The black haired woman cracks one eye open, the sight of a tall, skinny girl greeted her. The girl's wide green eyes assessed an carefully, ruby red lips set in a stern frown, making her feel slightly intimidated. The girl was a rail, so thin that she could have disappeared if she were turned to show her profile; Anne was so unused to such a meager figure that she nearly asked the lass of she had been eating enough.

"Really? That why it's so empty?"

"Yes." The brunette smoothed out her dress-a very sensible blue dress-and nodded her head forward, and gestured to the building Anne was leaning on. "My brother and I run a pub together, and this is it. I know it doesn't look like much, but we have some fairly civil patrons. Could I interest you in a drink in exchange for you not loitering around my business? It tends to scare off the normal people."

Anne laughed, leaning herself towards her knees and promptly sprung up to her feet. Now that she was standing, the height of the other woman struck her like a blow to the face. The girl was nearly a full neck and head taller than her. "Didn't know this town had normal people. Heard it's full'a retired pirates, mystics, and worn down marines."

"That's true for the most part." The girl scratched the side of her jaw while an amused expression quirked her lips, "I'm Poppy, by the way." She extended her hand, and Anne was glad to shake it.

"Anne. It's a pleasure."

She stared up at the dimly candlelit sign that hung in front of the entrance, admiring the absurd name of The Orange Shanty. Anne was always so partial to ridiculous thing that should couldn't help but be fond of the softly peeling orange paint of the swinging doors. The two women make their way up the stairs and Poppy swings open the door to her establishment with ease. "Hey Cotton! I gotta customer for ya!"

"It better not be that woman from the market, or I'll kill you! Stop trying to marry me off!" A loud, but relatively sane sounding tenor voice echoed in the pub. Anne put her hand over her mouth to muffle a laugh, and Poppy snickered.

"Nah, I didn't bring Michele. I could still get you her address though, since you were thinking about her."

"Poppy!"

Poppy laughed outright this time and put a hand on Anne's back as she guided her to the bar. A head full of white hair stuck up from behind the counter, the face of a scowling man front and center. The man (who had been crouching or something like that, Anne assumed) rose to his full height. Which was tall. He was taller than Poppy by a good fifteen centimeters, and Anne wanted to know what these people ate for breakfast.

"Cotton, this is Anne. Anne, Cotton." Poppy hummed, sliding onto a stool, and Anne did the same.

"Nice to meet ya." The man grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry about the shouting."

"You call that shoutin'? That's whisperin' where I'm from."

"Cotton's just being polite. Too polite if ya ask me." Poppy paused, nodding her head as if she were trying to decide if she was going to continue or not. "Well, he's also my brother's so there's that. Maybe he feels like he needs to make up for my rudeness?"

"Yes, that's it," Cotton says automatically, wiping his hands down on his apron. "Anyway, Anne, pick your poison; you came in here for a drink, right?"

She laughed. "I dunno if I'd call it poison, but if you got grape juice on you, pour me a glass."

His eyes went real wide, and Poppy almost cried she was cackling so hard. "G-grape juice? What the hell? Do you not drink or something? Is some religious thing? You look like you drink a bottle of vodka for your goddamn breakfast!"

"Oh my God, I can't breathe!" Poppy screeched as she grasped at her stomach.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?!" Anne replied indignantly, her face immediately set into a scowl, "I ain't no drunk!"

"Wait, what? That isn't what I meant!" Cotton looked frantic as he turned to his sister. "Stop laughing!"

"Holy shit, no!" Poppy fell off her chair.

"What did you mean then?" Anne crossed her arms, growing very annoyed by the situation.

"I-I just meant that you're, uh, tough looking, I g-guess-" His voice raised into a squeak as Anne narrowed her eyes at him. "Like you grew up with whiskey instead of milk-!"

"I don't like alcohol, jackass." The black haired woman sighed, rubbing her forehead tersely. "But if it honestly bothers you that much, splash some rum in it for all I care. That's the only liquor that don't make me as sick as a dog."

"Yes ma'am!" Cotton turned his back on her, his hands fumbling to get her what she asked for.

"Ah, you're funnier than you look, Miss Anne."

"I do try Poppy, but I don't play about my dislike of alcohol." The woman narrowed her eyes at Cotton one last time, for good measure, and nearly laughed when his whole body flinched, and his spilled juice onto the counter. "You're a klutz, aren't you?"

"Only when there are terrifying women sitting at my bar." The white haired man muttered setting her drink in front of her.

"I'm a fuckin' angel." Anne declares loudly, downing her grape juice and rum in one go: "I was raised by farmers'n shit, courteous by nature and whatnot. I ain't a savage."

"Never said you were; I said you were terrifying."

"Same difference."

"Okay, what the hell does that even mean? It can't be the same and different and the same time, it's impossible."

"You're impossible." Anne retorted petulantly, sticking her tongue out at the bartender. "Look, you messed up pouring some juice, don't argue with me mister."

Poppy shook her head, grinning, and stood up. She gently hook elbows with Anne, and lightly guided her away from the bar top, away from a scowling bartender. The back room was quiet, and also a mess, but it wasn't Anne's place to say. She merely waited patiently for her host to inform her was what it was that needed to be addressed. The girl with the ruby red lips hummed at her, smiling in a gentle, but somewhat astute way.

"Sorry," She pulled out a cartons of cigarettes from her pockets and a matchbox. It took less that a few seconds for Poppy to have a lit cig dangling from her lips, the tall woman smiling all the while. "Needed a smoke."

Anne nods, putting a hand up in refusal when Poppy offered her one. "Don't like cigarettes."

"Woman, do you have any vices? Com'on? If not booze, smokes, then what is it? Lust? Power? Glory? There's gotta be something."

"Why are you so interested?" Anne leans against a tankard of beer, her eyes roaming around the area until they settle on the ceiling. "So what if I don't like shitty stuff. I don't need any of it to live. All I need is food and drink in my belly, clothes on by back, and adventure in my future."

"Adrenaline junkie?" The green eyed woman inquires as she settles herself on a barrel of sake.

"I suppose," Anne says in responses after mulling it over for a few seconds. The two women stand there, in silence, looking at each other and the haze of smoke that began to fill the room. Anne did not cough, or splutter at the smell or taste, because she had been around it enough for breathing it to be like second nature.

Poppy looks at her real hard, before nodding absently. "So why are you here exactly?"

"Looking for a star reader." Anne holds a hand up before Poppy could get a word in, "I know, dumb idea. Shoulda just stayed the hell away, but I couldn't help myself."

"A star reader, huh. Nobody's looked come here looking for one in ages." The way that the brunette speaks hold a twinge of nostalgia.

"So there aren't any?" Anne laughed bitterly, looking up to the ceiling in frustration. "Knowing my luck, I guess that's how it would be."

"Never said that." Poppy nudged her over slightly to the lone window in the storage room. "A bunch of people here can read the stars, but it's not very useful. Works well enough in the Blues, but it's a wreck in the Grandline. It ain't anything special."

"That so?" Anne leaned forward, propping herself up against the windowsill. "Still seems pretty cool to me."

All the other woman did was laugh, shaking her head. "It really isn't. Anyone can do it." Poppy smiled, walking over to join Anne by the strange mix of sunlight and moonbeams.

"Maybe, maybe not."

Poppy gives her a sideways glance, and hums. "Pirate?"

"Yeah."

"Thought so. You're too loose to be a marine, and don't stink enough to be a bounty hunter."

"I take that as a compliment."

"You should."

Anne paused and ran a hand through her hair. "I really need to be getting back..." Anne says offhandedly. She furrows her eyebrows.

"So soon?"

"It's not like I wanna leave or anything, I just have business to take care of." The ebony haired woman frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. A yawn stretches her jaw open wide, and it cracks loudly. Anne groaned, bringing her fingers to her chin and slowly pulls them back to massage the dip where her ear met her neck.

"Can I expect you to visit again?"

Anne looks out the window at the stars that were starting to fade into the twilight sky, and smiles wearily.

"I don't know."

She knew she had to go back and face Maigo properly. That doesn't mean that she wanted to.

All she can think about is how selfish she had been going into everything; she had only been focusing on the journey, the danger, and not on how she was the captain. She was responsible for Maigo. She had convinced him to board her little red ship, and he followed her. She had to keep him safe.

Anne realized that her responsibilities never ceased, only shifted.

First Roger, then Maigo.

It was foolish of her to think that sailing meant absolute freedom. She still had duties, and there were still rules to follow, flexible as they may be.

She spent her time until full sunrise walking around the painfully small town, admiring the slow progression of dawn into day. Anne found herself in front of the very inn she had fled from merely hours before. She stared at it and really took in how intimidating that dilapidated hostel was to her in that moment. Every shadow was darker, every angle accentuated, and the rotting wood even more menacing. It seemed to her that there was a miasma hanging over the building, weighing it down with darkness and melancholy.

Or maybe she was just being dramatic.

The dark haired woman trudged up the stairs, opened the door, and gave a small bow towards the broad working the front desk. Then came ascending those wretched stairs. One, two, three, four... there were fifteen steps and she was at the door of the room she had left Maigo in far too soon.

She didn't bother knocking. Anne opened the door and peaked her head in reluctantly.

Maigo slept soundly on the raggedy bed in the right hand corner of the room. She let out a breath and slowly tip toed her way past the threshold and closed the door behind her. Her first mate made a grumbling noise and Anne knew she was finished.

"Holy-"

Anne jumped, and Maigo flinched, and they stared at each other for a few seconds. Her first mate looked a bit offended in a very general way, his lip twisting into a sneer and his eyes narrowing into slits. Anne was certain he was plotting her murder.

"What are you doing?"

"Mm." Anne brushed her hair back, not being able to bear looking him in the eye. "Tryin' to think of a way to beg for your forgiveness."

"You're not doing a very good job so far." He noted sharply, Anne clinching as if she had been given a physical blow.

She sighed shakily, and clasped her hands together. "Maigo, I'm tryin' here, I really am. I'm sorry that I acted like a complete ass, and I don't want you to leave, and I don't wanna put ya in danger anymore."

He assessed her with skeptical eyes. "I dunno."

"Please?" Anne was contemplating getting on her knees. "I'm so, so, so sorry that I didn't think'a your safety. I'm the captain, it's m'responsiblity, it's on me alright?"

"Look, I get you're sorry, I do." He shifted, rolling off the bed to plank his feet on the floor. Maigo grimaced, sharply inhaling in a way that made Anne's heart ache. "But can you promise to not do fucked up shit. like this again? At least talk to me first? Then we can see if your fucked up shit has any value."

Anne nearly cried.

"Maigo, I love you and you're beautiful and the best first mate thanks so much-!" She clamored over to him, breathing unnaturally hard and wrapped him in a hug. He squirmed and Anne clutched on tighter. "Maigoooo-"

"Get off of me!"

They go into town to get supplies the next day. It should have been fairly straight forward: food, water, booze, in that order.

Except nothing could ever be that simple with Piques D. Anne.

She walked down the street, arm and arm with Maigo, talking his ear off. Many stopped and stared at the two, but she merely assumed that it was because of them not being locals. That was until she reached The Orange Shanty.

It looked so very different in the daylight. More decrepit, less magical, and a lot more orange for that matter. It was a startling shade, with a strikingly black roof to oppose the outside; it was ugly, if she was being honest.

"Hey Maigo, you want stop for a drink?" She jostled the two of them to a halt, and pointed at the garish bar. "I was hanging around her last night, and the grape juice is fantastic."

"Why the hell would you go into a bar for grape juice? Get some good stuff, you idiot." Maigo sighed heavily and allowed himself to be pulled towards the establishment by the brutish woman. "Did you try the beer? I do enjoy a cool beer on a hot day..."

"Get beer then. Goodness." Anne swings the doors open and marches in with Maigo trailing after her. "Hello? Poppy? Cotton?"

"Yes?"

"Yeah?"

Two head popped up from behind the bar counter at the same time.

"Oh, it's Anne! Hiya Anne! Cotton's still irritated with you!" Poppy waved with a cocktail mixer in her hand.

The white-haired man gasped and shook his sister roughly, "Don't tell the She-devil that!"

Anne raised an eyebrow as Maigo finally took a step that had him standing at her side, "I really don't understand what I did to make him dislike me, Maigo."

"Well, first off, if you were being yourself when you two met, that's probably it."

"Um, rude."

"Not being rude, just right." He said haughtily, grinning at his captain. She sighed very loudly and stumbled over to Poppy.

"Poppy! My first mate is an absolute dick!"

"Language!" Cotton shrieked loudly from behind the bar, flapping his hands wildly. "A lady mustn't use that kind of language!"

"Yeah, what a dick, Anne." Poppy replied suavely, chuckling as her brother foamed at the mouth and passed out. "Now that he's out of the way-" The ruby lipped girl smiled sharply, "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

"What?" Anne blurted out nervously, peering over the bar to look at the man knocked on conscious on the other side.

Poppy leaned back on one of the barstools and grinned, showing all of her white, almost threatening, teeth. "Well, Anne, that 'star reader' you were looking for is me. Except I'm not a star reading, mind you. I'm a proper navigator. I've sailed all across the Four Blues, and ventured into the Grandline once or twice. Take me with you."

"Uh?"

"Take me with you."

Anne jerked her head backwards and scrunched up her face into a decidedly unattractive countenance of skepticism. "Why the hell would wanna come? You could die, you know. Only crazy people do that."

"Good thing I'm fuckin' insane." Poppy flipped both of her twin braids over her shoulders. "When do we leave?"

"Uh, Maigo-?" Anne glanced over her shoulder and saw her first mate nearly weeping.

"Finally, someone who won't get us killed in a storm," He held his hand out, "Welcome aboard, let's get out of this shit island."

"Maigo, we still need food-"

"We can get it later."

"Maigo, where are you going? Why are you dragging Poppy along with you? Hey! Don't leave me behind! I'M THE CAPTAIN DAMNIT!"

In which Anne didn't think alcohol was that bad when she was younger and steadily grew to dislike it because everyone says it's an acquired tasted.

Anywho, look, an actual finished chapter.

sincerely,

L & D