Yo. This is nerve-wracking. Thank you for reading. One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda. I just own my gremlin of an OC. Rated M for language, bloody violence, and suggestive adult themes.
~X*X*X*X~
:The Broker:
"T...T-Three thousand beri?! Are you fucking kidding me?!"
A verdigris-haired woman with eyes of amber topaz held her hands up with brows raised. "That's all this book is worth, good sir. Even three thousand is a bit of a stretch. But I could make it four if that makes it any better."
"It doesn't! Do you have any idea how much trouble my crew and I went through to get this damn thing?"
"Oh, I'm sure it was quite difficult." She picked up the item in question, bringing it to her button nose. "Do you know what old books smell like?"
"No. Why would I give a shit?"
"Over time, the glue, ink, and paper used in books will break down. Wood-based materials have something called lignin which gives off a faint vanilla scent, a smell many historians are familiar with when dealing with old books and records. Usually undetected by most because of the fragrance of mustiness."
The man was getting impatient. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything. A smell can tell the truth. There's no scent of mustiness or vanilla. It's almost as if someone took a random book, crumbled and burned the pages, damaged the cover, and dipped it in coffee."
When she met the gaze of the man across the desk through the edges of her bangs, he looked like a kid that was caught with his hand deep in the cookie jar. The woman placed the book back in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head to the right. Half of her was expecting the man to jump the desk and attack her, but he didn't. He just grabbed the fraudulent novel and left in a huff, saying she was going to regret pissing him off.
This sort of thing was all too common in her line of work as a treasure broker. Anything from antiques to sunken treasure to old records thought lost. She was the middleman of collectors that don't want to make sure the items are authentic themselves. Usually, it was royalty that were too greedy for their own good. It pays unbelievably well when she doesn't get a fake. But it's more of a front to get close to high society to just tear them down. That's what the organization she belongs to does.
"Another fraud Bramble?"
The woman turned at her name to the owner of the shop. "Unfortunately so. And he tried so hard to make it authentic. I almost feel sorry for him and his crew. Almost."
"I'd be careful. The last one of you people got himself killed."
"Well, I've been here a few months and I'm still alive."
"Consider yourself lucky then."
"Luck is my best friend."
She stood up and headed for the door with a wave. The backroom office of the small two-story bookstore was up on a hill that overlooked a shady but well-known town of the Grand Line. It was known for its markets and trade. Pirates love to frequent this place. They come to the island in hopes of making money from their pillages. This place was utterly popular that eternal poses were usually sold to first-timers. Since she's been here, most of the items she had to review had been blatant fakes. If they had the smarts to go to someone less experienced, the pirates would be rolling in beri. Of course, telling the truth to criminals was rather dangerous. They don't like to be told no.
Bramble stopped in front of the entrance and gazed out the window. Another rainy day. Not that she minded. She prefers overcast days and not the headache-inducing blaze of the sun. She grabbed one of the umbrellas, a dark red one, from the stand of the coat rack and headed out. The soft patter of the rain was comforting. She made her way down the stone steps to the wooden path that led to town with a ten-minute or so walk.
The broker was in a good mood. She twirled the umbrella as she hummed to herself. Not even the breeze that kicked up occasionally could ruin it. The loose, long-sleeved dove grey tunic with a long teal scarf belt softly fluttered around her as she jumped from one puddle to the next. Her loose ponytail bounced with each little hop. She wasn't even bothered by the droplets of water splashing on the exposed fair skin of her legs clad in black capri pants as her ankle boots stomped in small road ponds.
Bramble came to a stop when she reached the outskirts of the west side of town where most of the permanent residents lived on the upper layer of the three-tier layout. The streets were quite busy in the late afternoon. The street lights lining the brick road flickered a bright yellow, illuminating the rain-slicked buildings of dark wood and pale stone. A few horse-drawn wagons sauntered to and fro from dropping off people done for the day from grazing what new wares arrived from long-traveled vessels. She kept on her trek, being careful heading down the few flights of slippery stairs that led to the main part of town.
It was a combination of buildings and massive tents, creating a sanctuary for merchants. The ones closer to the bay on the first layer would have the newer merchandise while the buildings a bit further back acted more like storage for anyone curious enough or were able to leave the harbor markets to peruse. Bramble didn't have anything in mind to buy as she kept to the road that divided the mid-level. Sometimes, she just liked walking through and hearing what new stories the seafarers had. That's if people weren't fighting over haggles. Scuffles were common. It's a rather lawless island without any proper authority. How this place was still standing was a surprise to Bramble, but the all-out brawls worked best when resolving problems here.
While she didn't have plans to get anything, there was one thing she couldn't live without. Food. Many of the second-level shops and stalls had food in the center of the row that overlooked a park with the harbor in the background. There were all types of food. From candied fruits and pastries to ramen and takoyaki to pit roasts. Bramble stopped in front of a stall called a yatai that sold pickle fish, her absolute favorite thing to snack on. It was located just outside the park and while it was never busy, there was always a steady stream of food goers. Her stomach growled when she breathed in the heavy scent of broth.
"There's my favorite customer!" The cheery seller greeted. "The fishermen brought in a yellowfin tuna a week ago and I pickled it just for you!"
Bramble gave the older woman a toothy smile as she sat at the counter. "That's too kind of you. But don't spoil me too much. I might not leave."
"You said that a month ago, young miss."
"That's because you're spoiling me."
The seller let out a belly laugh as she poured a warm cup of tea and placed it in front of Bramble. "Anything other than the usual?"
She shook her head no and the older lady began preparing her food. The usual was a large bowl of different oden skewers in a rich broth and a chilled glass of dark beer with a side plate of pickled fish. Any type of fish works for her. Bramble watched the rectangular boiling pot that was divided into little sections. There were fish cakes, tofu, white radishes, mushrooms, and meats like pork, beef, and chicken. A little-known secret were small farms on the south side of the island which was mostly forested. Quite a bit of livestock is usually traded along with fungi and flora found among the trees.
"Here you are!"
Bramble could only reply with an excited nod as she dug into the meal placed before her. Even after eating the same thing almost every single day, it still tasted like the greatest thing in the world. She savored each bite, enjoying the savory taste of the stock seeping onto the tender meat on the skewers. A couple of other patrons showed up, Bramble recognized as fishermen and started merry chatter with the seller as she took their orders. This was definitely one of her favorite aspects of traveling the Grand Line. Going to small food stalls or taverns to listen to the ambiance. Even if most of the stories were drunk-induced lies, she loved the boisterous chatter. For five years she's been traveling the waters. By herself most of the time.
"What's your plan after this, young miss?"
The sudden question aimed at her caught her off guard and she had to swallow the mouthful of sour fish before answering. "Probably hitch a ride on a merchant ship again. I think I've angered enough people. Should leave before an entire armada of those I've pissed off hunt me down."
"Mercer told me you've outlasted the last broker that showed up."
Mercer was the owner of the hilltop bookshop. "From my understanding, the last guy had it coming. It's against the rules to sell our organization's secrets."
She was just one of the many underground brokers all a part of the same group. The network was like a spiderweb and if an island has a big town, chances of finding a member of the organization were high. Some like her traveled alone and tagged along with ships sailing the great seas. Others joined crews, became spies within the Marine forces, or stayed on islands usually hidden within outposts.
The reason Bramble chose to travel was her affinity for flora. She loved going from island to island and studying plants and fungi of all environments. It was her passion that stemmed from childhood. She has a few journals of pressed vegetation and vials of different seeds in her travel pack. She's studied which herbs were medicinal and edible and which ones were poisonous. Some plants looked the same but were two entirely different species. Bramble trained herself to recognize the safe flora from the deadly. It gives her peace of mind wandering forests, grasslands, mountains, and deserts, seeing all the wonderful plant life thriving.
"This is probably the last time I'll eat here," Bramble spoke with a smile and placed the payment down as she stood. "Thank you very much for the meal as always."
The seller placed a hand on top of hers with a shake of her head. "It's on me, young miss. Consider it a parting gift."
That's something that always shocked her. Kindness in this treacherous world. She pocketed the money and bowed in thanks. Now her mood was even better. She opened up the umbrella even though the rain faded into a drizzle and gleefully continued her journey. Maybe she'll go down to the harbors and see what's new herself. As she walked on, a strange smell hit her heightened nose. Seconds ticked by until a person brushed passed her, the owner of the scent. She immediately stopped and turned slightly, seeing a tall man with broad shoulders and green hair walking away. What stuck out the most to her was the three swords by his side. Her eyes were glued to him as he melted into the crowd. She's never come across a man like that during her time here. His smell was of a metallic ocean mixed with a storm.
"Wait a minute. Isn't that…?" She trailed off with a tilt of her head, If that really was who she thought it was then that means…
Bramble felt a buzz in her stomach as she hurried to the bay harbors. But that burst of curiosity was going to have to wait. She barely took a few steps out of town when several men stopped her. One of the six she recognized as the man from earlier who tried to sell her a fake. Only her eyebrows rose as she kept a straight, uninterested face. The man she knew stepped forward, looking beyond vexed. He brandished a pretty little dagger at his side when he was inches away from her.
"Found you, bitch. You're going to pay me my money or I'll kill you."
She cocked her head to the side with a foxy grin. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
The man's upper lip twitched and his nostrils flared. "Don't fucking play games with me. Give me the money I deserve for the book."
"Book, book, book hmm," she muttered, tapping her finger on her jawline. "Ohhh you're the guy that tried to sell a fraudulent piece of shit right?"
Without warning, the man lashed out with the dagger at hand yet he slashed the air. Bramble had swiftly stepped aside to avoid his attack, her grin never leaving her face. The person directly behind her tried to grab her, but she hopped a little bit forward which caused the attempted attacker to stumble. The fake book seller swung at her again. She went into a crouch, glad she still had the umbrella opened when she heard a pained shout and smelled blood. She tossed the now ruined item and quickly jumped up, back flipping onto the wooden fence and balancing on the pole like an acrobat with her smile still plastered on her face.
"You...You fucking bitch!"
"Sticks and stones, darling."
She crossed an arm over her chest with the other outstretched and bowed. Four of the men attacked her at once, all of them falling over each other when Bramble hopped to the next pole. She raised a hand, giving the lovely gentlemen a wave, and jumped up to one of the second-story balconies that were almost leveled with the fence of the middle layer. She climbed up to the top, walked over the roof to the front of the building, and jumped down. She headed down the road a bit and ducked into an alleyway between a fabric store and a jeweler when she heard the angry yapping of her pursuers. She blended into the shadows as they passed, oblivious to her position. She carefully crept out as their shouts became distant mumbles.
"That's that then."
Well, at least she was closer to her destination. No one was bothered by her being chased because most of the late afternoon goers were busy watching a fight happening. Bramble shrugged at the crowd forming on one of the docks used for repairs. Some of the dock workers and fishermen greeted her as she walked by. The ships she saw were ones that had been here for a while already. Then she saw a pale wooded caravel in the last dock. It looked so small and helpless compared to the others. The figurehead adoring the front was a cute ram head and the flag softly fluttering with the wind proved her suspicions.
The Straw Hat pirates were on this island and that man was none other than Roronoa Zoro.
"What brings you here, little lady?"
The gem-eyed woman turned her attention to the old and grizzled harbormaster. "When did these guys arrive?"
"Bout a couple of days ago. They had an eternal pose from here on them."
"Really?" Of course, they would should up when she was out for a week working on appraisals from the influx of ships. "Then that means they might be leaving soon."
"The youngsters seem the type to strictly follow a log pose. Once it's set, they don't overstay their welcome and leave."
"Did they have anything interesting to say?"
The elderly man stroked his snowy white beard. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just seemed like everyday pirates."
Except they have a well-known bounty hunter on the crew. She kept that to herself. "Those are the ones you have to worry about the most."
The harbormaster chuckled. "You're right about that. I heard you're leaving soon."
"News sure does travel fast around here. And yes hopefully. I have some people I should meet up with soon."
"Safe travels then."
He gave her a hardy pat on the back and left her to her thoughts as she stared intently at the little ship. A crew with not even ten members aboard had the Marines in a tizzy. Their last known offense really put them out there in the world though only three of them have bounties on their heads. The crew was vastly different from those she came across in her travels. It was more like a misfit group of friends braving the dangerous waters simply because they can. Though she doesn't doubt their strength from what she's heard. At least a few of them. The namesake of the crew and the captain Straw Hat Luffy. Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. And a dark brunette woman referred to as Demon Child.
Two hundred and thirty-nine million beri collective bounty for a crew of seven. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't impressed. She has met crews with fifty, seventy-five, a hundred crew members and they don't even get close to the Straw Hat bounties. What sort of beginnings did the crew have? What led them to the vast blue oceans of the world and travel the dangerous road of the Grand Line? As curious as she was, she set those thoughts aside.
It was time to find riverbed mushrooms.
~X*X*X*X~