Luffy was starting to get on Franky's nerves. Ok, not starting. At this point, he was practically at the finishing point. You'd think that the cyborg would have a higher tolerance for the childish captain, seeing as Franky was more or less childish himself, but when you've been kicked out of 30 shops in a row, you start to reach the end of your line. 'I mean, yeah, rockets are fun, but did he really have to set off every single one in the shop?' Franky thought, as his captain trotted along side him, craning his rubber neck to take in every single sight and sound. In doing this, he was continuously bumping into someone or tripping into something. 'Is that where that expression came from...?'* pondered Franky, eager to get his mind off the fact that nearly all his money had been spent paying shop owners back for Luffy's nearly insatiable curiosity. He groaned as they reached the final store in the row. The building was large and composed of mostly metal. Imagine an upside down flower pot. Now imagine it in iron, and that was basically the store's appearance. Franky had made some sketches for Luffy, and had a pretty good idea of what the captain had in mind. Of course he already had full-scale blueprints for Brook's present, and he knew exactly what he needed to get, right down to amount of screws. They walked in the shop and were immediately greeted by a small, elderly man. "Hello!" the man greeted them. "Might I do anything today for you lads?" He inquired, looking up at Franky. Franky stared at the visage below him before promptly fainting into Luffy's arms.
oooooooooo
Brook had everything set up. His wooden table was filled with tone dials, and he was poised at his piano, ready to play. He picked up the automatic tuning thingamajig Ussop was always bugging him to use. Sure using the tuner would save the crew from hours on end of seemingly random notes and screeches, and sure he could probably do it in less than 5 minutes with the auto tuner, but usually, he was in favour of the old-fashioned way. Today however, he didn't have much time. The crew was coming back in 6 hours, maybe 8 at the most, and he had to hurry up. So he attached the boxy device to the piano, attached his violin on the other joint, and let it do it's thing. It was quite unsettling to be honest. Hearing the gears whir, and the buttons beeping. Machinery was so... Robotic and... Dead almost. It had no soul. For something with no soul to be handling something that was bursting with it just seemed wrong. To Brook anyways. He sighed and waited for the device to stop beeping and booping. When the light finally turned green, he quickly unattached the machine from the piano and placed it on a table. He sat down at the piano and began to play. He would give the machine some credit. The sound that flowed out of the instrument was perfect. He stopped playing and held out his violin. He slowly pulled the bow back and forth over the strings, testing for any imperfections. He found none. But it lacked something. Technically, the sound was pure, and untarnished. But the instruments lacked soul. 'To hell with this infernal device.' Brook thought, as he started to mess with the tuning knobs on his violin.
oooooooooo
A.N: My sincerest apologies if you were led on to believe that this chapter would be much lengthier. I wished to complete the 'Shopping' process, and was unaware that I would only have 2 segments for this chapter. As such, Brook's segment is simply filled with musical prose and musings. The next chapter, however, will include all the groups. So forgive me, please, for going on a descriptive tangent. I will not make this mistake again.
*Rubber necking is a term used when car accidents occur, and people in cars stop to look at these accidents causing even more accidents by stopping.