Title: On the Ocean Blue

Written By: NikoArtagnan

Genre: Fantasy/Friendship/Adventure

Rating: T, will eventually go to M

Summary: An outcast from Earth is flung headfirst into a hostile, unforgiving world, and finds themselves tagging along with a very particular crew of misfit pirates, and the boy who wants to be the King of them all. But this isn't the world of One Piece you thought you knew, and there are terrible things lurking in the shadows...

Chapter-Specific Warnings: Gender confusion, misogyny, mentioned racism

Author's Notes: Kelly's gender identity is rather confusing, even to her. But eventually she will come to see herself as genderfluid (meaning: fluctuating between the genders of male and female), and use terms befitting a person who sees themselves in such a way.

She disguises herself as a man both for her own protection, and because she likes it, though she chafes under the labels slapped on her and the fact she can't make those decisions freely.

If you have questions about Kelly's identity, I'd love to hear them and welcome them with open arms. But please, do not call her a crossdresser. She is not, and will never be, a crossdresser. (Also, it's extremely offensive, so there's that.)

Chapter Five:

initium valebat (The Start of Adventure)

Igaram, Vivi, and Mr. 9 watched the both of them with wary eyes.

"I understand now…" Igaram said. "The Marines must have made a mistake on the wanted poster."

Mr. 9 seemed to agree. "It make more sense if he was the one worth 30,000,000 beri. He must be the real Captain."

"And that ponytailed man who defeated Miss Monday must be his co-captain," Vivi said. "I thought it was odd that a smiley-faced brat would be worth so much. Those two are obviously stronger."

Well, all right then, Kelly thought.

"Still, it's a disgrace," Igaram said coldly. "To have so many of us defeated by a single pirate swordsman and an effeminate man like him? The boss has entrusted us with this town. We'll be held responsible for this."

"Dude, you got a lot of balls telling me I look fucking effeminate, when you look like you've got fucking hair curlers on," Kelly said, feeling tendrils of anger in her belly.

What really got to her was the way Igaram had said the word effeminate. With a tinge of disgust and annoyance. As though he was saying, how dare this man with girly features be able to do the things he'd done.

And that, more than anything, more than the fact that it could, oh, blow her cover, pissed Kelly Lewis straight the fuck off.

Kelly remembered years of people telling her she wasn't a proper girl, a proper woman, and she remembered trying and trying and trying until she couldn't breathe anymore as she tried to become everything that society wanted a woman to be, no matter how wrong it fucking felt, and still got their shame and hate and awful, gritty catcalls and obscenities.

She remembered how nice it felt with Alex and Beth, and for a while Henry and Lien, where she could wear bikinis or tuxedos or whatever the fuck she wanted and act however the fuck she wanted without any shame. She could wrestle with Alex and talk with him about girls without it getting weird, and Beth could curl her hair and do her makeup lightly and they could talk about boys and that didn't feel wrong or weird either.

Kelly remembered all of this in the space of about two seconds, and the homesickness nearly took her down at the knees. She knew her parents, and her friends would be startled by her scaly bits, but they would accept her. They would accept her, all of her, the way they accepted that she was – on the inside – a man as much as she was a woman. And they would tell her that there was nothing wrong with her scaly bits, just like they'd done when she'd told them she wished she was a man, too.

She wished she was home. She wished she was home, where she didn't have to be a she or a he, but…

Just Kelly.

Oh, what did it even matter? Humans would always be stupid about what other humans were when they didn't follow the "norm", which she certainly never did. And considering the fact that she had scales, a little something like gender was the last thing she should be worrying about. "She" worked just well for Kelly, and wishing for more than that was just selfish.

She blinked, coming back to herself just as Igaram began to blow on his saxophone-gun.

…Her mind hadn't wandered off like that in years.

She gently leapt out of the way, landing on the ground, and promptly ducked down an alley. If she remembered the storyline correctly, Mr. 5 and Miss Valentine would be here soon.

Where had Zoro gone off to?

He was facing off with Vivi-hime and Mr. 9, the former of which had a short sword pointed at a sleeping Luffy's distended belly.

It was really odd that it was the sight of Luffy's inhumanly stretched stomach that was, without question, the strangest thing Kelly had ever seen in many years.

Kelly walked behind Igaram, and before he could start shooting, knocked him off the roof with a blow to the back that would guarantee that he wouldn't be a problem, but would allow him to fight against Mr. 5 and Miss Valentine's Day.

She smirked when she saw him crash into Mr. 9, Carue, and Vivi-hime, bowling the unprepared agents over.

"Well, that was pathetic," she told Zoro, who smirked. "Wanna go get drunk? The wine's pretty nice and the night is a fine one for drinking."

It was physically impossible for Roronoa Zoro to turn down alcohol, so his agreement came easily.

They clambered up the side of the building, both of them letting out pleased noises when they found several bottles of unbroken wine, and sat in a companionable silence until the Baroque Works officer agents arrived. They were probably the least weird looking out of all the Baroque Works agents, barring Miss Goldenweek, in Kelly's honest opinion.

"Captain of Arabasta's Royal Guard, Igaram, and Crown Princess Nefertari Vivi…by orders of the Boss, you are to be eliminated," Mr. 5 said.

"You know," Kelly said to Zoro, who watching the tableau with some interest as Vivi took off with the agents close behind, "Your captain's still down there. You should probably go get him."

"I probably should, shouldn't I?"

Kelly sniggered, and thought with some regret that it was a damned shame Roronoa Zoro was a human. He would have been a great friend.

They drank for a while before Kelly stood. "Well, I'm going to go flirt with the Princess. You all good here?" She asked, and got a nod from the swordsman.

"Have fun with that. I'm going to get Luffy and the others," Zoro said with a lazy yawn.

Swinging a bottle of wine, Kelly sauntered off in the direction Vivi had run.

She waited in a dark alley and let out a sharp whistle just as Vivi and Carue raced past. The duck came to a halt and both duck and blunette looked wildly around.

"'ey, Vivi-hime, I'd suggest you come over here before the Baroque Works agents get here," Kelly said, stepping from the shadows and waving nonchalantly.

She stopped, eying Kelly suspiciously. "Why should I, pirate?"

Kelly just sighed. "One, I ain't a pirate, just a long-term guest. Two, the pirates' navigator is just now negotiating with your boy Igaram to get you back home to Alabasta safe. Three, all I want to do is flirt with you. I'm fair certain that's not what Baroque Works wants."

There were a couple of seconds of silence, before Vivi and the duck quickly hurried over to her and hid in the shadows. Kelly helped the blue haired girl off Carue's back, and they both sat against the wall. Kelly noted with interest that Vivi was even more beautiful than the anime and manga version. Her light blue hair fell in waves around her face and her eyes were a simply delicious dark brown that reminded the Magus of melted semi-sweet bars of chocolate. Her dark skin gleamed in the faded light.

Even with the dirt and blood smudging her face, she had a bearing about her shoulders Kelly assumed was the inborn aura of nobility it was said that royalty carried around them.

And unlike most nobility and those of royal blood, she didn't wear it arrogantly or pretend at it. She wore it easily, like most people wore clothes.

It was…interesting. Did her father have the same presence as his daughter?

No wonder the Baroque Works had discovered Vivi's and Igaram's identities so quickly. That presence and that extraordinary blue hair…

Kelly pulled a small handkerchief from her pocket and, cupping Vivi's face in her hand, began doggedly but gently wiping away as much of the grime and blood as she could. The princess immediately started squirming.

"H-hey, what're you doing?!" She demanded, trying to knock Kelly's hands away. Kelly simply ignored her protests until she had gotten off as much as she could, and then tossed the cloth away, and sat back, tilting the princess's face left and right, watching it carefully.

Then she smiled and nodded. "Much better. A princess as pretty as you shouldn't be covered by blood and dirt, Nefertari Vivi-hime of Arabasta."

Kelly could feel the fear trembling in the blue-haired woman's body, could practically taste it. But it wasn't for herself, but rather for the man she'd been forced to leave behind at the mercy of the Baroque Works.

"Vivi, it's all right," Kelly said, tilting the girl's face so that she could look directly into her eyes. "It will be all right, I promise you."

'This is strange,' Kelly thought to herself. It had been a very long time since she'd given comfort to another human. But Vivi's eyes were warm and they'd lost some of that fear that had darkened them.

And when a smile quirked Vivi's full lips up, Kelly remembered with sudden, striking clarity-

-…The sun is warm and the air carries the fresh hints of a summer in full swing, the music from the distant festival traveling even as far as the park. Her fingers tangle knots in the floor length skirt she wears, as she looks at Beth and Alex.

It is the first time Beth has been out in public since she'd gotten home from the hospital.

"C-Can I sit here?" Kelly asks, her voice stilted and overly formal, as the dark-skinned woman and Cajun-Russian man watching her with hooded eyes.

She wonders if her guilt is etched on every stitch of flesh she has, her guilt at not being able to save her friend from a fate worse than death, and she can't quite still the trembling in her fingertips.

Then a warm, dusky hand takes hers and pulled her down to the red-and-white checkered blanket at Beth's side, and Kelly feels her heart leap into her throat.

Beth's dark brown eyes are bright with unshed tears, and her hand is tight around Kelly's.

"Of course you can," she says quietly, and it is only pride that keeps Kelly from breaking down in public, from crying until she can no longer breathe, because finally the crushing guilt is beginning to crack and finally, finally she has her only friends in the world back with her.

"Th-Thank you…" she gets out instead, and rests her head on Beth's shoulder, feeling Alex's arms wrap around them both.

And when Beth smiles, it is like the rising of the sun…-

'Well, hell,' Kelly thought, restraining the urge to sigh or break something. 'I'm such a sentimental fool.'

Then she froze, hearing the lightest tap on the roof of the building they sat against, and lunged forward, hauling Vivi into her arms. She kicked off the air and dove out of the alley, Carue close behind, just as Miss Valentine crashed into the ground where they'd been sitting with her Kilo Press.

Kelly skidded to a halt, Vivi clinging tightly to her neck and straightened as Mr. 5 appeared before her.

He looked thoroughly annoyed. "Enough of this nonsense," he said, and began…

…

…picking his nose.

…

…

…what.

Kelly raised an eyebrow as she sat Vivi on her feet again by her duck.

"I'm not one to judge another man's activities," Kelly drawled, putting a hand on her hip, "But don't you think that's not something you should be doing, much less in public? Have some shame, man."

He sneered at her as he pulled his finger from his nose and began rolling whatever he'd found between his thumb and forefinger. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this."

It felt like she was forgetting something. She knew this guy had Devil Fruit Powers, but which ones? Hm…

"Nose Fancy Cannon!" The agent yelled and flicked the boogers at her, just as Vivi grabbed her hand.

There was the instinctual jerk of surprise and rage (how dare she touch me!) but it vanished when Vivi said, "Mr. Kenpo, he's a bombman! He can make any part of himself explode!"

…Oh, so that's what he did.

She turned back to see the speck of (highly explosive) boogers hurtling at them and restrained the urge to facepalm. Now she remembered.

This was going to hurt-

Suddenly there was a green blur in front of them, and the air and ground exploded on either side of them for several yards back, the tortured ground screaming under the assault.

"Mr. Bushido!" Vivi cried out.

Kelly looked on either side and felt both eyebrows raise in involuntary appreciation. "Holy frijoles, that's some powerful boogers," she said with a snort of laughter.

"I had to cut snot!" Zoro whined, and Kelly cackled.

"Aw, poor thing. Is your sword soiled forevermore?" She mocked.

The swordsman glared at her. "Oh shut up, girly-man."

A vein pulsed in her cheek. "Excuse me?"

He just smirked. "You heard me, bastard."

"Why are you so persistent?" Vivi snapped, interrupting the argument. She pulled out one of her Peacock Slashers out and started twirling it. Kelly quickly put a hand out to stop her.

"Vivi-hime, stop. He's here to help you…right? You are here to save her, right?" Kelly asked the green-haired swordsman, who nodded.

"Aren't you the swordsman who took down all of those bounty hunters in town?" Miss Valentine asked. "Why would you suddenly start protecting the Arabastan princess?"

Zoro shrugged. "I have my reasons."

"No matter," Mr. 5 said, picking his nose yet again. "You're standing in our way, so that means you're an obstacle. Our enemy."

"I FOUND YOU!"

Kelly felt her smile stretch to Joker-esque proportions as they all turned to see a horribly bloated Luffy a short distance away, face red and nose puffing like an angered bull.

She turned back to Vivi and grinned. "Come on love, let's get you out of the danger zone, shall we?" She began herding the Princess back as Luffy charged.

"They're, they're insane!" Vivi said, her face a combination of outright shock and adorable confusion as the two pirates promptly began beating the ever loving shit out of each other.

"Yeah, probably, but they're your best hope of getting back to Arabasta in one piece," Kelly said, sitting on some crates stacked against a building a short while away from the brawl. She yawned.

"Hey, Vivi-hime, tell me about your homeland." It took a bit of doing, but soon Kelly had drawn the girl's attention away from the fight, peppering her with questions until she smiled again and began to answer, as they waited for Nami to arrive and put a stop to the brawl.

DATE: Later that day… May 30th

MY LOCATION: My room

PLACE: Merry Go

It's been a while since my last entry. Everything went as it should have at Whisky Peak. Nami interrupted the battle between Zoro and Luffy, who thought that Zoro had gotten pissed off at the bounty hunters because they didn't have his favorite food.

(Dear Lord, but that boy's a fucking dumbass. At least that's one thing the anime and manga got perfectly right.)

Nami tried to get a billion beri out of Vivi in return for taking her to Arabasta, but of course Vivi turned her down.

"Eh? But you're a princess, aren't you? It's just a measly billion," Nami said.

"Ah, Nami-chan, Arabasta's about to erupt into a civil war, they can't afford it," I said and got everyone's attention, including Vivi's.

"How do you know that?" Vivi asked. After all, it hadn't been one of the things we'd talked about.

Perhaps I should feel bad about how easily the lie came to my lips, but I didn't feel anything at all as I answered the question and sidestepped, putting the attention back on Vivi.

"Hey, I read about it back in Loguetown, about how the rebel army's growing stronger day by day. It wasn't hard to put the dots together. And besides, why else would a princess be working with a group of bounty hunters? I take it that Baroque Works has something or else to do with the troubles your country is having, am I right?"

Vivi sighed. "You're correct." She went on to explain about her country and the troubles it had been experiencing, coupled with Baroque Works involvement, until she accidentally revealed the BW's Boss's identity. The otter and the vulture – the Unluckies, I think they were called – heard, Nami flipped out, and then the animals drew pictures of Nami, Luffy, and Zoro.

I was sitting in the shadows of a building, out of sight, and they didn't manage to get a close look at me. Which is good.

Everything else went as it should. Igaram looked fucking weird as hell in his disguise, got blown up by Miss All-Sunday (ROBIN! KYAAAA), and then we ran like hell back for the ship, Luffy dragging a thoroughly confused Sanji and Usopp all the way back.

I went and hid in my room, submitted to a scolding from Gin (who of course was worried out of his wits), snuggled with Shere Khan, and finally sat back to write this entry. I don't really want Miss All-Sunday to see me, no matter how cool she is (or how awesome the fact is that it's NICO MOTHERFUCKING ROBIN). If anyone would know of the legends of the Magi, or be able to see that I'm not human and not even male, it would be her.

And besides, Miss All-Sunday isn't Nico Robin, not really. She hasn't yet become the stoic archaeologist/historian of the Straw Hats, the dark, enigmatic, but treasured nakama of these pirates. She hasn't yet become the woman they would fight the world for.

I don't want Miss All-Sunday to see me, because Miss All-Sunday is the type of woman who would sell me into slavery (or to the World Government) in a heartbeat. If I had my way, I would hide on this ship until the Arabasta was just a memory of the past, and I wouldn't have to be anywhere near the dogs of the WG, but I…

I don't want them to think ill of me. I want them to continue to think of me as just a flirtatious, powerful guy always ready with an easy smile and a helping hand. I don't want them to see how fucked up I really am, how much blood I have on my hands, and how little I really give a shit about Arabasta's civil war.

Because I don't, not really.

I don't see any of them as real, to be perfectly honest. And that's a little terrifying to think about. I have to keep constantly reminding myself that these are people, with thoughts and hopes and dreams and they're not just fucking characters in a cartoon anymore. If they die or get hurt, it's not going to go away in a couple minutes of brightly colored pixels or a flick of the page.

Why is it that the only things that seem real to me are my cats, my magic and the Daemons? Not even my scales, my martial arts seem real.

It's so damned disconcerting. Gods, I can't wait to get back home, to be in a place where everything makes some notion of fucking sense, and where the people are actually people to me.

I feel like I'm going insane, like my feet are floating several inches off the ground and no matter what I do I can't make them go back down.

I want to feel real again. That's all I want. And I can't do that here.

I'm not going to be able to stay with these guys for very long. Before Skypiea, definitely before Enies Lobby, I'll have to leave. Maybe I'll stick around for Arabasta. I can see about getting a ship away there. If I help her country, Vivi will help me get a ship, or at least help get me on a ship. I'll need to make sure she becomes my 'friend' and trusts me, if that's going to happen.

I can do that easily.

After all, it's not like I'm not halfway to seducing her already, as things stand.

~KL

Meanwhile, in the New World…

The island hummed as its residents came alive for a brand new day, the sun crimson red on the horizon, the waters surrounding the island a gorgeous, crystalline blue. Sea Kings swam in idle circles in the deeper pockets of water near land, while schools of fish and other aquatic life darted in and out of the dark pink coral reefs that formed a hidden barrier around the island.

In the middle of the island lay a large, expansive tropical jungle, erupting with life, surrounded by a circle of pristine white beach. The jungle thrummed with noise, mostly the sounds of the wild fauna that called it home, but the closer one got to the middle of the jungle, one could hear new sounds start to join the animals.

Humans. Voices. Shouting, yelling, crying, singing, laughing, praying.

An immense tree lay in the center of the jungle, spanning several hundred meters in height and still more in diameter. In its branches lay a village, with walkways and bridges leaping from house to house, from shop to shop, from building to building, climbing higher and higher into the tree. Men and women and children of all ages, sizes, and races, wandered about the sturdy wooden walkways, starting their day with yawns and yells, with laughs and smiles, just as any village anywhere in the world did.

But the people here were a bit…mm, a bit different than most humans were.

A light-skinned man dressed in an oversized blue tanktop and baggy grey sweats emerged from one of the huts with a yawn, stretching his long arms high above his head.

"Gods, it's too fucking early for this shit," the dark eyed man said, combing back his riotous mane of dark hair into a low ponytail.

A satchel flew from the open doorway to whack him in the back of his head.

"Stop bitching and get to stepping, you dumbass," a woman's voice said from within the hut, husky from sleep. "I don't have to be up for another hour, and I don't want to waste it listen to you bitch about having to deal with your sugar mama."

"May the Gods preserve me, you naggy old hag, the Lord's not my damn-" He leapt out of the way as a brick crashed through the air where he'd just been standing, and swore. "All right, I'm fucking leaving!"

He took off down one of the walkways, swearing all the way.

As he passed by shops, buildings, and the other villagers, he was greeted with the hawking cries of the shopkeepers, teasing smiles and suggestions that turned his ears the color of a tomato, and calls from his friends and acquaintances that he returned with a nonchalant wave.

On the outside of his arms, extending upwards until they vanished under the fabric of his shirt, were burnished red scales, gleaming like chips of ruby in the sun's morning blaze of light. Many of the people here had scales much like him, in every color of the rainbow, along with a host of other oddities that one didn't often see on a human's body, things like horns and wings and fur and everything in between.

"Hey, wassup?"

As his back was to the owner of the voice, the man permitted himself a tiny sigh before he turned to the woman sitting on the railing.

She was easily six feet tall, sinuous and layered with ropey muscles, her skin darkly tanned from hours spent flying under the sun, her bald dome of a head gleaming in the morning light. All she wore were her breast binders and a pair of off-white pants embroidered with daisies.

"Hello Saffron," he said, a tinge of long-suffering annoyance and quiet amusement in his voice.

"Kekekekeke…going to go see yo' girlfrienddddd, Ormr?" the woman asked, dark blue eyes glittering with amusement.

"Kiss my ass, Saffron," the blond haired man growled. "She ain't my damn girlfriend, and talking like that about our Lord is a fucking insult-"

Saffron giggled and held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Kidding, kidding! Don't take my head off, Ormr, you know I don't mean it."

He growled. "You know I don't fucking like the way people talk about us."

She stood from her crouch, her enormous, silver bat-wings folding back so she could step onto the walkway by his side.

"Considerin' who she is and considerin' who you are, I would say that's inevitable, innit?" Saffron said with a shrug, wrapping a companionable arm around his shoulders.

He sighed. "It's still irritating."

"Yeah, well, the price of celebrity 'nd all…" Saffron yawned. "Nah, but for real, did the Lord call you there for a reason you feel like sharing?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. But she's watching over some kids she brought from another world, and she's pretty nervous about it and all."

"Wants you for moral support?"

He shrugged again. "I'd assume…I'm pretty sure they're of her blood, though."

Saffron blinked. "…What, seriously? No wonder she's nervous then, if the kids came from her."

"That's not all… Saffron, one of them is a sanguinem quatuor."

The winged woman stopped dead. He sighed, and leaned against the rope railing.

"…Holy shit," she finally managed to say. "Gods, are you joking?!"

He shook his head. "No, I'm not. You know where our Lord came from, and who her previous consort was. And the ones before that."

"Goddamn, no wonder she's nervous about this. If she missteps, it could mean igniting a war between the Gods," Saffron said softly, running a hand over her bald dome. "She finally did it. Holy shit, she finally created a four-blood? That poor kid will be hunted across the goddamned world, by the Gods. …I'll keep quiet about this, Ormr. Tell the Lord I wish her the luck of the devil. She'll need it for something like this…"

He nodded and she quickly pecked him on the cheek. "Best of luck to you, too, darlin'," she said, her wings spreading open.

"Thank you, Saffron."

As the woman took off, Ormr continued on his way to the house perched in the very top of the tree.

Voices sang in hundreds of languages, as They felt the very fabric of time and space curl and twist under Their fingers, as They plucked the strings of reality as one might a harp, sending ripples across Their mind like a stone dropped in a still pond, as seven faces appeared before Their vision, and Their heart ached with love.

They had seen many fail, and had Themselves failed so many others, but They could not, would not fail these.

"Good luck, my little ones," They said.

The first, sitting in a small room on a pirate's ship.

The second, sitting in a tower high in the sky, praying for help.

The third, running from monsters towards a castle far in the distance.

The fourth, dragged before a white-robed council and condemned to a life of slavery.

The fifth, curled in the immense limbs of a tree that spewed a thickly green gas.

The sixth, trapped in the dungeon of a castle deep in a sea that could be tamed by no man.

The seventh, chained to the side of a man dressed in pink feathers and a cold smile.

The children now rested firmly in the hands of Fate itself. And Fate, as They well knew, was a cruel mistress indeed.