Ugh, my fingers feel funny. I think it's the chemicals :S I'm a chambermaid at a hotel this summer, so my hands are really taking a beating. Typing is kinda difficult right now, so ignore the typos. And I turned off the autocorrect cuz it was annoying the crap out of me. Stupid red and green lines everywhere.

Ok, so here we are back with Nami. We're gonna find out wtf she wasn't on the ship when Luffy and the others came to rescue her. Stupid bad timing. Oh wait, I did that on purpose :P Don't hate me! Love me!

Oh, and when you get to a certain character, it's a Jamaican accent. You'll know what I mean. I can hear it really clearly in my head, but sometimes accents just annoy people. I think they add to the affect :)

Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece. (What? No clever line about how you want to own OP? or how it's in Oda's will? No? Ok then~)

Chapter 8! Hurrah! *throws glitter* - (Ke$ha would be proud)

'What kind of a hellhole is this?' I thought as I unstuck my pole for the fiftieth time. Guck and weeds clung onto it as I yanked it out, creating a suction cup noise. I shook it slightly to fling some of the debris off. A string of slime splattered my face.

"ARRGGGHHH!"

In that moment I swore to never visit another bayou in my lifetime.

I looked down to see if I had gotten any mud on my clothes. I was currently clad in a velvet maroon dress. The sleeves came down about half-way, with tuffs of lace flaring out on the ends. The front was buttoned up with faux pearls, and the bodice pushed my breasts up nicely; revealing but covering just enough to still be tantalizing. Over the entire thing I wore a simple black cloak, which I had lifted up to cover my face.

"Kinda like a vampiress." Tyson had said to describe me. I approved.

I'd been drifting (or more like getting stuck) for a good hour now, trying to find the Dew Drop bar in the myriad of huts and buildings that stood above the water. It was exactly as Tyson had described it: dark and depressing and giving off the vibe that it didn't want you there. Because it was an autumn island I'd thought it would have been beautiful, but it was anything but beautiful. Indeed there were maples and oaks, but they were twisted into disfiguration, their limbs snaking in grotesque shapes. Instead of being bright reds, oranges and yellows, the leaves looked to be in the last stages of brown and grey. This disturbing vegetation blocked out the sun, and the foliage was forever falling to get trapped in the dark murky water below, adding to the layers of muck and decay.

'I might as well be a vampiress. There's no sun at all here.'

I thought back to my conversation with Tyson that morning in my warm, comfortable, swamp-less room.

"Ok Tyson, I shouldn't be later than after dark. I have a feeling I don't wanna be there after the sun goes down." I shivered at the thought.

"What will you do if you don't find the scroll today?" He asked.

"Go back again tomorrow, I suppose. And if I don't find it then, then I'll go back the next day, and the next day, until eventually I find it. The captain never gave me a deadline." I pointed out.

"Well don't take too long, he's not a very patient man." He cautioned.

"Oh don't worry. I want to get out of here as fast as I can. Hopefully I'll be back by evening with it safely in my bag." I packed the last of the provisions I needed into the sack along with my Climatact. I had demanded I be given it back because I was going onto a foreign island, and who knew if I'd need to fight? Surprisingly Cezar had returned it to me, but on the condition that he would drown Tyson if I thought of escaping. Quite the charmer wasn't he?

I didn't plan on escaping. I didn't want Tyson to get hurt because of me. I watched as he checked my bag over again to make sure I had everything I needed.

"Thank you again Tyson. You're the only one I've had to talk to on this ship, and you've been really helpful. I don't know why. I haven't exactly been all that nice to you."

He grinned up at me, reminding me of Luffy for a moment.

"You're not as bad as you think." I pouted. He laughed. "You may act bold and irritated a lot, but under that rough exterior you're a softie."

"Yeah? And what makes you think that?" I drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

His eyes softened. "You talk about your crew all the time, and you even said a few of their names in your sleep." I blushed. "You've told me how you risked your life to save one of them from a government prison, and all the things you like about each of them. Like Sanji's cooking, Luffy's laugh and Robin's reading to you at night." He looked down shyly. "I was wondering, can I meet them some day?"

I was shocked. I had rambled on to him about what I thought was pointless junk, but apparently he had absorbed everything I said. And until he pointed it out I hadn't realized I rambled on about nothing but my crew. I smiled.

"Of course you can. When Cezar lets me go free I'm going to take you with me, whether he likes it or not. I'll steal you off this godforsaken ship if I have to, and you can come with me and meet my crew. Who knows? Maybe Luffy will even ask you to join."

"REALLY?"

"Well he once asked a cyborg, and a talking skeleton, so your chances are pretty good." His eyes went all starry.

"See you later Tyson, don't wait up too late." I ruffled his hair, and with that left the room to board the rowboat that would take me to shore.

If saving my sorry butt and returning to my crew wasn't enough incentive, I was now stealing this stupid scroll for Tyson's sake as well. I unstuck my pole again.

Up ahead there was a corner, and I panicked momentarily. When trading my rowboat for the riverboat I never asked how to use it. 'How do I turn this thing?' As I neared I got an idea. Standing up I used my pole to push against a tree, slowing the boat until it stopped. I then seized the tree in a bear hug and, using my body as leverage, began to turn the boat with my hips in the direction the waterway had decided to turn. It wasn't very flashy; okay it looked downright ridiculous, but it got the job done. I was now headed in the right direction.

I heard a sudden cackling noise, like someone shaking a pouch full of rocks together. Looking up I noticed I had an audience. There was a withered old hag watching me from her front porch, where she was precariously perched on a rickety old rocking chair. With every rock it seemed she came closer to taking a tumble into the swamp head first. Her wispy white hair would flair momentarily in front of her face, and then fall back again as she rocketed forward, like cobwebs in a fretful wind. As she laughed she revealed a mouth absent of teeth, and her eyes were hidden in folds of brown wrinkles.

"That wath quite thome boatmanship right there!" She lisped. "You're not from around here are you, thweetie?"

She just had to go and add sweetie, didn't she? Even though that sentence had no s's and she would've sounded remotely normal, she just had to say that. And it was so stereotypical for an old lady.

"Thank you." I smiled at her, simply ignoring her question. The less people that knew I was here, and a foreigner at that, the better.

I continued on down the channel, leaving her annoying cackling behind.

I passed many interesting huts, well, creepy is more like it. One hut's porch was completely overcrowded with caged animals. Bats screeched and fluttered in their small confinement. Rats chewed at the bars, toads flopped and overturned themselves, and even a small alligator snapped as I passed. Another porch was vending what looked like shriveled heads, and even a few severed limbs. I shuddered, hoping to god they weren't human.

It wasn't until noon time that I actually found it. The Dew Drop stood apart from the rest of the huts, balancing precariously on the surfaced roots of a gigantic tree. It was still day time, but it was so dark and gloomy the lamps on the front porch were lit anyway. It was a beacon in the darkness, and as I watched people were drawn to the light like moths to a flame. Countless boats were already clogging the water around the establishment, and those who were just showing up rammed their boats alongside the outermost ones. Standing, they clambered from one boat to the next until they reached the expansive front porch and went inside the crowded bar.

Following suit, I drifted until my boat bumped alongside a dingy moss covered craft. Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I began to jump nimbly from one vessel to another until I stepped lightly onto the porch. The lights had indeed attracted actual moths, and I fanned a hand in front of my face to shoo them off. Not knowing what to expect, I stepped inside.

The bar-goers were making a loud ruckus, but it wasn't the jolly sort of ruckus happening in most bars. A group of women in a corner were having a squabble over the best ingredients for a tonic. Men eyed each other warily and shouted threats to any who glared at them too long. Even some of the patrons pets would growl or hiss at passerby. It wasn't really a place to gather and be sociable; it was simply a place to gather.

As I stood in the doorway I attracted a lot of unwanted attention. Pulling my hood up farther over my face, I wandered over to an empty table. Trying to look unremarkable, I began to scan underneath the tables.

'Shoe. Shoe. Clog. Boot. Disgusting bare foot. Boot. What?' I had spotted something that confused me. For a second I thought I had seen a chair with five legs, but none of the others did. I looked closer. The extra leg disappeared under a tattered black cloth, and my heart began to race as I followed the cloth up to a hooded figure sitting alone at a table. They were hunched over, as if they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders, and sipped on a mysterious bright green liquid.

'A peg leg.' I thought. I had found the person with the wooden foot.

I stood, making my way over to the table. Weaving my way through some curious onlookers, I took a seat opposite the hooded figure. They didn't bother looking up. I cleared my throat.

"I noticed you sitting all alone, and thought you might like some company." I said, trying to ease my way into the subject of the scroll and break the tension. The cloaked person didn't respond, but simply took another sip of their drink. I tried again.

"I heard this island is famous for it's practice in the dark arts, and I'm looking to obtain a certain scroll. May I ask if you have any knowledge of any famous rare scrolls around here?" Okay, not my most subtle attempt to learn stuff. This was more Robin's thing. But I was running out of patience.

They still said nothing. Instead the person stood, chair and bones creaking in protest as they raised themself. Revealing a bony hand from underneath it's folds, the cloaked figure beckoned for me to follow, still not uttering a word. I gulped, but decided to follow despite my rising suspicion.

They hobbled out onto the porch, peg leg knocking with every step. The figure led me to the very edge of the porch, in the shadows just outside the glow of the lamps. They fiddled in their pockets.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, no longer being able to keep silent. They answered by turning around and, lifting a withered hand, blew a fine powder directly into my face. I inhaled sharply in shock, taking in a large amount of the powder accidentally. It burned my nostrils like pepper and my eyes began to water. I began to feel lightheaded and the world became fuzzy. I felt myself falling as I drifted into a deep sleep.

The humming is what woke me. It was a sad but eerie melody. It was of things lost, but sought after. I let the notes drift over me, just like I had countless times listening to Brooke play on idle evenings aboard the Thousand Sunny.

Eventually listening wasn't enough, and my eyes wanted to see who was making the music. I opened my eyes blearily, and was greeted to the sight of dried plants. Bunches and bunches of them were hanging upside down from the ceiling. Some were so dry that the slightest breath of air sent particles streaming off them onto the floor. Others seemed newer, still green or bearing tiny little flowers. But together they all blocked out any sign of the ceiling.

My eyes wandered over to the side. I was lying on a small cot, and sitting beside me was a very old woman. She looked to be about three hundred years old. Her skin was like old browned apples, kneaded into folds. Silver hair was braided over her shoulder, trailing into her lap. Her bony withered hands were busy picking up beans, and her long fingernails deftly sliced off the tops. These she threw into a basket on the floor with the rest.

Not halting her humming or slicing she glanced up at me, her dark eyes creasing into a warm smile.

"You are up den, my child? I begun to wonder if my powder was too much."

I was the silent one this time. 'What powder?' And then it all came flooding back to me. The hooded figure at the bar, I followed them outside, and then they drugged me and I fell unconscious. 'But who is this old lady?'

I looked down at her feet, and sure enough in place of a foot there was a wooden peg. She was the mysterious cloaked person.

"Why?" I managed to croak out before I went into a throat rattling coughing fit.

"Dere were too many people child. Dis place is filled with eyes and ears, to see and hear what one wants secret. You were speakin of t'ings that shouldn't be spoken in da open. Besides, I already knew what you wanted."

"How?" I really needed to get past this one word thing. I sneezed this time.

"I saw you comin in my crystal ball. It tell me everthin I need to know. Like why you are here." She leaned towards me. "I know you want da Resurrection Scroll." My eyes widened. "But I cannot give it to you."

"Why not?" I managed to get two words out. The rawness in my throat was wearing off.

"Because dere is too much evil in his heart. He want it for selfish reasons, and that's not the purpose of da scroll."

"Then what is it for, if it isn't for bringing the dead back to life?" I asked.

"It for finishin business, tyin loose ends, makin amends. His story is not finished yet, and dat why I tell him about da scroll in da first place."

"So I was right! It was you who told him about the scroll!"

She sighed and leaned back on her stool, pausing momentarily in her bean cutting. It creaked slightly, as she was anything but skinny.

"Just like I seen you, I seen dat man in my crystal ball. I knew da tragedy that would befall him. So when I see him that night at da bar, I warn him about it. He don't believe me; say that I was insane. But I tell him anyway, about da Resurrection Scroll. He took an interest, but tell me he have no need for it. Well apparently he do now!" She laughed loudly. "But his heart is changed, so I won't give it to him."

She leaned forward again to get a better look at me. She eyed me up and down, and I squirmed under her scrutiny.

"But why send you? Dat I don't understand." I sat up.

"Listen, lady, I really need this scroll! That insane man has captured me, and the only way I can go free is if I get this scroll and give it to him! He separated me from my nakama, and all I want to do is go back to them." I looked at her with pleading eyes. "I was supposed to steal it, but obviously it isn't going to be that easy. But if that's what it takes, I'll try. I'm warning you, I'm getting kind of desperate."

I now looked at her with defiant eyes. She studied me for a long minute, not speaking. Finally she spoke.

"I see no darkness in your heart. Dere is some greed, but dat is all." I sweatdropped. She was good.

She rose from her stool, and walking hunched to a shelf she began to rifle through scrolls and papers. She plucked an unremarkable one from the countless others and shuffled back over to me with it. It was a brilliant hiding spot; no one would have ever found it hidden among the other scrolls. It was like a needle in a haystack.

"Here. Dis is the Resurrection Scroll." I went to grab it, but she pulled it away from me. "But you can only have it on one condition."

Another deal? Man, pretty soon I was going to forget one and screw things up.

"What is it?" I asked exasperatedly.

"You must open da scroll and read it yourself! Don't let dat man even touch it! He would defile it."

I wasn't too keen on this idea, but what did I have to lose?

"Alright, I'll read the scroll. I won't let him "defile" it with his unworthy hands."

At this she handed it to me. There was no magical surge of energy, no voices whispering in my head; it was just a rolled up piece of paper. Pretty unremarkable really. I stuffed it in my bag.

I looked outside the only window in the hut. It had gotten darker, if that were even possible, and I took that to mean that it was now late into the night. 'Tyson must be worried sick.' I pursed my lips.

"It was nice meeting you, and thank you for the scroll, but I really must be going now." I stood and started making my way to the door.

"Good luck, my child. Remember: dere are still stories dat need to be finished."

I chanced one last look back at her. She was looking at me with a knowing smile. She knew more than she was letting on.

With a shiver I turned and walked out the door.

I was going to write this in two parts, but decided to combine it into one because they wouldn't have been long enough separately.

Nami has the scroll! We're finally nearing the end. Idk how many more chapters it'll take to finish this… maybe 3? But I'm not committing to anything! I'll do as many as it takes to make the ending epic! :D

P.S. So that green stuff she was drinking? It's called absinthe. Google it. It was a green drink that could make you like high, and you had hallucinations and everything. Again this idea came from France, but it's illegal now cuz that stuff's too hard core :P

Review please~

Thanks guys!