"Miss Day of Reckoning"
When we are young and arrogant, we feel eternity is granted upon us. At least I felt that way, during those days Carue and I looked into a calm blue ocean reflecting a graceful blue sky, under the Grand Line.
Oh, I have memories of this time, but they are training memories. The reminiscence of a girl who cared more for fighting than companionship, a selfish girl, though that girl was no longer a spoiled brat. Gradually, I pieced together a fighting style, more than simple Kung-Fu, gained splashes of power, and traversed the Baroque Works. As an empowered agent, an agent who shared in the devil's favor, I could pick and choose jobs, unlike the rabble. Carue ('Mr. Racingday') was my only partner, and they called me 'Miss Day of Reckoning'.
I wish.
I called myself 'Miss Day of Reckoning'.
Instead they stuck me with 'Miss Fireworks Celebration' though I successfully gained the 'Day of Reckoning' nickname among the Millions (the name Baroque Works used for their thug-cockroaches). Cannon fodder feared me.
A reputation I earned by beating bands of grown men, wannabe pirates only good for intimidation or dying, fools who entered the Grand Line unprepared. In reality, that stupid Island Whale got half of them, but I shamelessly took credit. At first I thought Laboon was a great wonder of the depths, but after I learned how he scarred himself against the Red Line, I couldn't stand him! An emo whale is not a noble whale. Carue conveyed Laboon was all 'I'm lonely' and 'come back for me' - just a big crybaby. Dumbass crap whale even managed to cut himself with his mountain ramming technique.
I did like Crocus though, he taught me many things about the Grand Line. It was his advice which got my necklace started. But back to taking out the trash.
Baroque Works hated competition, and wannabe pirate rabble joined the 'Millions' or joined the bottom of the sea. My final record on that newbie duty - 25 ships sunk, no ships recruited. Sure, I rescued a few that weren't scum, but they spread my legend.
After the probationary period, my requested position of general troubleshooter was granted, and I found myself fighting against other powers of the devil. The other Devil Fruit users in the organization thought I was a funny little girl, as in 'ha-ha, not a threat'. They were right, and I hated that they were right.
So I took jobs which would help me become stronger.
If I didn't have my Mysterious Powers, I would have been stuck with crap jobs, like hunting sea kings for food, perhaps forced into an unsavory partnership with a man of dubious character. Or even worse, a wannabe prince who wanted to protect me. I spat on the ground inside my mind, because spitting for real would dissolve what it landed on. Stupid Wapol.
But wait. Before I get ahead of myself, I did meet some of the organization's own fruit users, a general introduction. I gained minor abilities, but it was more trouble than it was worth.
From Miss Doublefinger, who dressed like a dominatrix and could turn herself into a pin cushion, I permanently lost the ability to use hair curlers. That skank infected my hair with her spiky cooties. I have never, ever hurt anyone by making my hair into a spike, and I consider this a terrible trade. Like my lips, it is permanent. I received this curse when she felt the need to nuzzle my hair and breathe into my neck about how I should stay away from her supaman, Mr. 1. What a bitch.
I made absolutely sure to befriend Miss Valentine and suck down as much Kilo-Kilo power as possible. The bubblehead can change an object's weight by 5000 kilos with her 'Crescendo Stone', plus she's fun and easygoing with a terrible taste in men I do not share. It gives us something to talk about. As much as she's a follower, that woman was my first true friend. Changing your center of mass in a fight is a fantastic surprise, but unlike Beth, I can only change my own weight, and not by much. We used to go sun-bathing together, and just be girls. The problem with this relationship was her disgusting partner.
Mr. 5. The pig. The man-booger. He held the devil's power to turn any part of his body into an explosive, and he utilized it by constantly picking his nose. Disgusting! Even worse, he actually touched me, and this revealed another new quirk of my Mysterious Powers.
Total rejection.
Maybe it was my will combined with the seastone I absorbed, or maybe the Mystery Mystery Fruit can be fickle. I don't know, and I don't care to experiment.
Basically I loathed the very idea of man-booger - hated him so much - that my body refused his powers. Every time Mr. 5 touched me, my absorber powers totally rejected him. With an explosion that triggered his own ability.
The explosion didn't hurt either of us, and usually launched him a good distance away. Mr. 5 became fascinated by this reaction. He could not stay away, and it totally cut into my friendship with Miss Valentine. Every time, and I mean every time he touched me, a piece of my clothing was ruined and he made a dirty joke about fireworks and 'blowing his load.'
Ugh. Remembering crude asshole booger-man annoys me.
Around that time, I adopted an outfit that concealed most of me. Gloves, mask, the whole ensemble. I was often in proximity to another fruit user, and this stopped unwanted power transfers. Plus it made me look like a boy, a big plus when worthy opponents taking you seriously is a major life goal.
Looking back, I think the Mysterious Powers finally settled in because I was actively seeking useful abilities. When I had imprinted several powers, the involuntarily drawing in stopped. Mostly. It began taking effort to absorb, and I actually had to will it, to want it. With my later escapades, especially against Logia, I don't think I could have survived without this saturation.
What powers did I have at this point? Sniff, Eat, Seastone, Ugly Hair, Weight, and Whisper. I'm particularly proud of Whisper. At times it is more useful than my combat repertoire. As much as I enjoy physical conflict, I am a trained diplomat.
Ah, Whisper. Baroque Works sent me on a mission to investigate the Millennium Dragon, having heard rumors about invincibility elixirs and riches. To be honest, no one in the organization took the rumors seriously, but I'd recently taught Carue I'd found it hilarious if he flew over Mr. 5's head whenever he needed to use the Little Duckies' Room. Therefore Miss Valentine arranged everything to separate us before her partner managed Booger Art - One Dead Duck.
This was long before I met the windbags, months before. Apis was a good kid, and the time for the Dragons was not then. So I diplomatically made a friend and grabbed a sliver of her ability, which sounds calculating (I was a selfish girl) and useless if you only want flashy powers. Really, I tried to tell Apis how awesome she was, but she thought I was only trying to make feel better. Kid was lonely. Anyway, Baroque Works never got involved, and I learned how to talk to snails.
Why not Sea Kings? Why not Carue? My super-duck and I already understood each other, and being able to talk to something doesn't mean it will listen. It turned out, learning one animal was the limit of my mysterious powers, so I'm still deaf to nature. Apis told me Sea Kings were snobby and rude; coming from a sweet child like her, it really meant something.
So… snails? Den-Den Mushi are snails. Apis didn't believe me when I told her she could be the most powerful spy mistress in the world. Maybe someday she'll understand.
Anyway, after I got back to the Grand Line I used my snail-whispering ability to find Hercules. More on him later.
While I was around East Blue, I did check out the local sights and kick a marine patrol vessel's collective ass hoping to meet a rokushiki disciple (bad luck, their 'captain' had bought his commission and had no skills). Then I visited the best restaurant around - Baratie. The food was great. The chefs were crap. I still can't believe they banned me for fighting. I actually tried dusting off my persuasive charms, but the blonde-haired waiter went out of his way to flatter women and insult men. I'd dressed in my ninja outfit and looked like a pretty boy, and my adversary took my appearance as a personal insult. It was incredibly frustrating, especially when head chef Zef threw us both out into the ocean before we finished the fight.
The crap waiter just climbed back on the job. Carue fished me out before I drowned; for all my scraps of stolen power, I'm still a hammer.
Still the sharpest memory I have from the time period is the two windbags. I met the second one in a bar on Cactus Island, the one with the graveyard of fools near the end of line (or the beginning, from a Reverse Mountain type of view). Our encounter went something like this:
In my ninja concealment, all black, including a veil, I walked into the low class bar and went right to his table in the back.
"My employers have decide you've been a nuisance lately, Windmaster. They'd like you to move on. One of the Blues, Loguetown, or towards the middle of the Grand Line. I hear the East Blue is full of weaklings; you could easily make your fortune there."
"And they think sending a child will convince me?" The swordsman snorted in disgust.
"Yes. They think sending one of their weakest and least important agents will convince you. In terms of my organization, I'm nothing-girl. It is expected you'll survive me. If you kill me and remain, you'll have to deal with agents of far more power than me."
"Ah." The man nodded, understanding. "What if I kill the messenger and move on anyway? Sounds like they won't care enough as long as I'm gone."
"Exactly." I smiled. "I'd hardly be a proper representative if I died against someone like you. Kill me. If you can, my place in the organization is opened for my murderer."
"I'm not sure if I want to stop working alone, but I'll get to killing you after this drink."
He finished his drink. We fought outside town. He lost. And I never got his name, never bothered. His two swords produced a cutting wind. Okamatachi, he called it. I think. He wasn't happy when I repeated the name back to him, but in easy fights, I just don't care. My Kung-Fu was strong that day; I jumped ten feet split his wind with my bare hands. When I did that, the jaw dropping expression on his face, amazed and frightened, was so beautiful.
I knocked his ass out, stuck him on a passenger ship, and thereby removed him from the Grand Line. (Cheapass had only a few thousand belli; I paid half the fare.) Never saw the little wuss again. I tied him up with my peacock slashers and tried to absorb his powers, but they did not take.
Maybe he was just a swordsman with a fancy trick? I dunno; I still think this second windbag had something devil related, Sniff told me so. Looking back, it may have been an imprinted sword or piece of Seastone. Ah well, I didn't need his wind.
I'd already drained Erik the Windbag from East Blue. Also known as 'I'll Never Need Nailpolish Again' power guy. (The purple wasn't a bad color, it went with my hair.) Sure he had a bunch of ships and followers in his own little pond. The Grand Line isn't a little pond. Heck, I wasn't even a fish back then, more like a baby dugong who could do tricks.
Our battle was more like it.
It took place on one of those islands my later group never visited. A volcanic island, stuck in the winter-time. Plenty of air currents for a wind-user to play with, and it made a perfect Grand Line exploratory base for Erik the Whirlwind.
Baroque Works hated competition, especially competition which attracted Marine attention. I could only play around in East Blue that one time because I was way far away. So when Windbag set up a beachhead, they sent Miss Day of Reckoning to disabuse him of his base. Maybe just abuse him.
I wanted to go alone, but they made me take a bunch of the Millions, because why waste a perfectly good base? Yeah, part of my orders were capturing the landscape. Pillaging.
I made the captains they gave me produce tons of assault plans, and picked the one which drew Windbag out alone for a one on one battle. It suited all of us. Keep the fruit users from wrecking the valuable real estate, and keep them away from the troops. I just wanted to steal power in private.
In hindsight, it's amazing how well the plan worked, or that it worked. Maybe it's the company I keep now, but I've never had one of their plans actually do such a thing - work.
So anyway, Erik was drawn out into the winter forest, away from his base, probably to attack our beached ships or some crap, I can't remember now. The plan worked, Okay?
Carefully, I pulled down my black ninja mask, and inserted the seastone end of a blowgun into my mouth. I chewed the orange peel for five seconds, before it could totally dissolve, with a great breath I spat through my unreliable weapon.
My target, Erik the Whirlwind, glanced contemptuously at the missile and waved his hand. My own acid, which I was not immune to, flew back at me. I ducked behind a tree. After this battle I would retire the blowgun. I didn't need it against fodder, and the interesting ones turned it against me, and when they did, a clue about the limits of my powers emerged.
My peacock slashers were next. He tried cutting them with his windy, fancy fingernails, just like every two bit swordsman whose ass I'd kicked for years. I mean come on! The cables are nearly indestructible. I've tied up giants with them.
We danced around the forest a while, knocking down pine trees, scaring the crap out of mountain goats, that sort of thing. He was good, but not as good as I'd expect from a disgraced Marine captain. He relied too much on his powers and didn't know of the rokushiki. Sure I had to use my instant weight adjustment to keep up with him, but he didn't have super strength, just that one trick. It was a good trick, and I would make it mine.
He shredded the sleeves and legs of my outfit, blew off my veil, cut my left cheek. One of his wind blades left a clean scar on my outer right thigh. I broke his nose, dislocated his left knee with a hard slasher pull, and gave him a few friction burns. We fought hard, without mercy.
Carue provided the opening, and it ended. Great fight.
Baroque Works stole Erik's base, half his men, and got a fat ransom too. He got sent back into East Blue to do whatever he did next, but not before he offered me a job. I declined. Let it be known, I never actually called him 'Windbag' to his face. He was an arrogant slime ball, but I respect a great fight.
So anyway, I was not idle during these months of little combat, but the espionage stuff is damn boring. I got my evidence of how Baroque Works was behind the Ararbasta's Powder conspiracy, and more too. What I needed then was a cadre of minions, people who could back me up. I could probably count on Miss Valentine and her asshat of a partner to look the other way, but they wouldn't help me. That left the rest of the fruit users in Baroque Works.
If I was clever and lucky I still doubted I could do much against the best of my organization.
I couldn't handle Crocodile. Mr. 0 knew of my ability, and had drawn his own conclusions. I was an anti-admiral back-up plan, but since I had never absorbed a logia power, his sand-ability might be in danger if we ever met. Thus, I was forbidden from going more than three islands up the Grand Line. Ever. My wonderful necklace of eternal poses only dealt with starter islands on different routes.
I needed someone who could use water, or ice, or at least keep him occupied while I set something up with his own Dance Powder. Trap sandman in poetically draining rainstorm? Sounded like a bad plan. Well, it was what I had to work with. I didn't want his powers, because I still remembered the crying man in the Green Fedora from that auction, long ago. He'd warned me, if I took on a logia only the parts of me in contact with the powers would be affected. Logia users were death-traps for me.
Anyway, I began taking jobs closer to Loguetown, waiting for the right type of idiots I could negotiate with or dominate. I still had Dad's account with a few million belli. I even considered trying to pry Smoker loose from his home base, now that I could resist his ugly power. Ok, let me rephrase - now that I *thought* I could resist his power. Baroque only had paramecia fruit users. It wasn't a serious plan; if my resistance failed, my lungs would become smoke, and I'd die.
But then they came along, and everything changed.