A/N: Enjoy

Rock the Boat

3210

The next few days were a rinse-repeat schedule. Sasha would wake up, eat a couple oranges, drink some water, make sure she was on the right heading, and row. She'd row for a few hours, 'til her aching arms shook and the blisters on her hands ached. Then she'd eat a couple more oranges, drink some more water, and nap. Blue came to visit right after her nap, letting her check his eyes for more hooks before just settling to float along beside her, content to listen to her chatter and sing at him. He even gave her a lift on the second day, carefully balancing her little boat on his narrow snout and shaving at least six hours of rowing off her journey before setting her back into the water with a huff and disappearing back into the depths.

She'd then eat dinner, row until the moon was almost overhead, and then sleep.

Rinse, repeat.

…It's safe to say that Sasha's theme-song has become Fuck I'm Lonely by Lauv and Anne-Marie. To the point that Blue can now croon/hum the tune.

He really was super fucking cool…

Days Three through Six: Survived.

()()()()()()

The first sight of land was a goddamn blessing. Sasha had been hoarsely regaling a fascinated Blue about all the different ways one can die at sea when she saw it and just.

"Oh thank fuck there's land and maybe people and fuck, fuck," she choked off, slumping as tears filled her eyes. Blue lifted his head up to look towards the Island, and it was an Island. A relatively small one, from what she knew, but since she knew fuck-all about Islands beyond some names of them, what did she know? The massive Sea Serpent let out a thrumming croon and carefully nudged her little boat, sending it rocking as Sasha straightened up with renewed energy. She'd barely started rowing again when the Sea Serpent ducked down and scooped her boat up onto his muzzle, something she knew he didn't like simply because he had trouble keeping it balanced for too long.

"Thank you so much, you magnificent bastard," Sasha told her friend tearfully, earning a low croon as Blue carried her little boat rapidly towards the Island. As they approached, the wind from their travel blew back the makeshift hood of her Sailcloth Poncho, making her squint in the sunlight. She'd taken to keeping her hood up as much as possible over the last fucking week, that she'd been stranded at sea. Sunburn was a bitch, after all, and she already had some of that and windburn, to go along with the still-painful head injury. Which was scarring, she realized by the third day, seeing as how the gash that had been hidden by the swelling was healing but not going away, leaving a small but obvious trench on her fucking temple.

But none of that mattered anymore, because, as they approached the Island, Sasha tearfully noted that it had a dock, where there were at least two other boats, both much bigger than her little boat, and there were people, thank fuck…

People who were obviously panicking about the rapidly-approaching Sea Serpent, ah.

…

Aaaaand now they were wheeling in what looked like canons.

Ah.

…

Motherfuck.

()()()()()

It took some awkward flailing, some charades, and Sasha had to convince Blue to let her approach by herself, as the Sea Serpent absolutely knew what a fucking canon was, go figure, but, finally, she was awkwardly parking her little boat next to the dock, where six tense, nervous men manning a big ass canon and holding guns themselves, waited.

"Um, hi?" She greeted, smiling uncertainly and giving a weak-wristed, floppy wave. "Er, I come in peace?" Two of the men closest to her seemed to relax at that, one even rolling his eyes, but the one manning the Canon (and she still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that they had and actual, fucking canon and apparently knew how to use it) remained tense and glaring, eyes locked on the half-submerged form of Blue. "Um, don't mind Blue, please? He's a big ass baby, really, and vain as shit, but, I mean, he's not gonna start anything, so there's that?" She shifted uncertainly in her Poncho, and, finally, one of the other men lifted a hand and waved at the others.

"Stand down, boys," the man grunted, resting his rifle on his shoulder with a considering look on his tanned, scarred face. "Let the girlie up. As long as she means no trouble, we'll give none to her." Immediately, the two men closest to Sasha put their guns away, and one of them, a blond man with bright green eyes and a scar on his chin, offered her a bright smile, dimples included.

"Hullo, Miss," he greeted her warmly, offering her his hand. "Welcome ta Hearths Holm. The name's Marlow." Sasha offered him a bright smile and took his hand, her own looking ridiculously small in his, and let him help her up onto the dock.

"Hi!" she greeted happily. "I'm Sasha! That's Blue!" She added, pointing out towards the clearly-sulking Serpent. "He's my friend, so please don't hurt him?" The newly-named Marlow let out a cheerful chuckle as he steadied her, Sasha's balance too-used to the sea's constant movement.

"How'd you manage that, anyways?" The blond asked her easily. "Sea King's ain't exactly known ta be friendly. Devil Fruit or somethin'?" The man next to him, a large, brunet man covered in thick hair with black eyes and one hell of a stereotypical blacksmiths-beard, grunted lowly.

"Heard Haki can do it," he stated, making Marlow bob his head with an 'ah' sound of acknowledgement, and Sasha blinked at them, bemused.

"I have no idea what either of you are talking about," she informed them easily. "Blue's my friend because we're friends. And is he a Sea King? Is that what he's called? I've been calling him Sea Serpent 'cause, y'know… He a Snek." She then wiggled her hands at them both in a vague approximation of a snake, grinning as she did so. Marlow looked absolutely charmed, while his blacksmith friend snorted in disbelief and turned around to start moving the canon with the other men. The man who'd called for them to back down walked over, and Sasha blinked up at him curiously.

Tall and broad, brown hair with gray temples, blue eyes, and freckles, the older man gave her and her little boat a sharp once-over, those pretty eyes sharp as blades and oh-so-very considering. Sasha almost felt like she was being judged, but, strangely enough, after one thorough once-over of her and her boat, it went from a 'Whomst've the fuck is this bitch' kinda judgement to 'hoe, you live like this?'. Which, y'know, rude.

"You run into some sort of trouble, Miss?" He asked, arching a brow and nodding towards her lean-to; Sasha shrugged with an awkward smile, reaching up and rubbing at the fading bruise around her headwound.

"As far as I know, it was more good luck than trouble," she told him easily. "Woke up after a Ship-Wrecker in my little boat here, headwound and no memory at all. From the wreckage, I'm pretty sure I got nabbed by slavers, but Karma said fuck that, and so they're all dead and I'm alive! Then it rained oranges and I ran into Blue and a cool bird named 420 pointed me in the direction of land and here I am!" She mad jazz-hands at the staring men with a bright grin. "Lucky for that, too, since I only have a few oranges left now, but hey! You guys want some neat fishing hooks? I've got a literal bucket of them and a never-ending supply thanks to Blue so I'm willing to sell and-slash-or trade for them!" She pointed at the barrel full of hooks her daily check of Blue's eyes had steadily filled and grinned brightly at the disbelieving stares.

"…Well, damn," Marlow mused, scratching his chin. "Let's see what all you have and talk some business, then, shall we?" Sasha clapped her hands together happily and reached over to snatch up her barrel of hooks.

"Let's!" She agreed, beaming, and happily followed after the tall blond man, leaving Mr. Judgy-Mc-Judgerson on the dock, staring at her little boat with considering eyes.

As long as he didn't fuck with it, she didn't care how much judgement he was giving it. Her little boat was awesome and she'd fight anyone who talked shit about it.

Y'know, as you do.

Day Seven: Survived?

()()()()()()

So, it turned out that about half of the hooks she'd pulled from Blue's eyes were actually worth money, which was called Beli here? Not a lot, of course, but of the two-hundred-plus hooks she'd pulled in the last week, the hundred-or-so she could sell got her almost two thousand Beli. Which, well, sounded like a lot of money, but by her estimation was only about fifty bucks.

Which was, obviously, way better than no money at all, and meant she had something at least.

As for the rest of the hooks, well, the local blacksmith—who turned out to be the guy from before who had the stereotypical Blacksmith Looks™, named Rocko—was willing to melt them down for her and buy the useful metal from her.

"What happens to the not-useful metal?" she asked curiously as she handed him the much-lighter barrel of hooks; the large man shrugged his shoulders, expression neutral. "Like, can you still use it to do stuff like make little figurines or something?" Rocko furrowed his brows in thought, then shrugged again.

"I'll let you know," he grunted and, unwilling to go anywhere near the tall man's forge, where the heat was making the air warp, Sasha hurried away. Like fuck was she hanging around the devil's armpit out of curiosity, fuck that noise. Instead, the amnesiac flitted around the tiny town, enjoying the soft swish sound her Sailcloth-Poncho made as she skittered about like a stray dog.

Considering she had the spirit of an anxious Border Collie and the ADHD to match, well, the description was apt.

"Yo, Miss Sasha!" A familiar voice called, and Sasha perked up as she bound cheerfully across the road to where Marlow was, letting the tall blond herd her into what she now realized was a bar. "I figured I'd buy you a meal in exchange for your time, seeing as how you've only had oranges for, how many days now?"

"Seven!" She chirped eagerly, all but vibrating as she was forced to swallow back drool at the plate of hot food the pretty lady behind the bar was setting down. "Seven days of only oranges and water, and holy fuck that looked amazing and you're lucky I'm not in the habit of turning down free food… Actually," she paused, frowning thoughtfully up at the ceiling for a moment in consideration. "That's probably how the slavers got me, if I think about it… That, or they drugged my drink… Rude."

"Slavers?" Came a hoarse voice, and Sasha glanced to the side to see a scowling old man who had enough wrinkles that he looked like he was part tortoise. His hands were large and scarred and had thick, heavy knuckles, and where holding tight to the large mug in his hands. Sasha nodded at him as she sat down in front of the plate on the bar.

"Yep, slavers," she told him easily. "I got a head injury and don't remember the hows or whys, but I got knabbed by them and I guess Karma or a Sea God or something said fuck you in particular and sent a Ship-Killer Storm. I woke up among the wreckage on my awesome little Rowboat, spent a day grabbing up all the useful bits from said wreckage, and rowed all the way here. Been a week now, and if it hadn't rained oranges on my first or second day out, I'd be in much worse condition, that's for sure." The old man grunted and eyed her as Sasha began to dig into the abso-fucking-lutely delicious food.

"Davy Jones blessed you, then, lass," he grunted with a decisive nod, and Sasha hummed, her steady process of shoving food into her mouth semi-politely slowing further in thought.

"Davy Jones," she muttered after swallowing, eyes narrowing. "Davy… Jones…" She set her fork down to gratefully gulp some water down from the glass the pretty lady set next to her, before staring up at the ceiling in thought. "There's a song about that… Him? Them? Eh, anyways… What was the song…" Scowling, she ducked her head then, tapping her fingers on the counter and glaring at her knee, head cocked.

"There're lots of songs about Davy Jones, lass," the old man grunted, gulping from his tankard. "Most of 'em are pirate songs.

"Now, come on, Krem," Marlow said, waving a hand at the old man with a half-smile as he lounged next to Sasha with his own tankard of something bitterly alcoholic-scented. "Ain't no pirates here, and anyone who knows the pirate songs won't sing them. Old Iron Foot would pop up from wherever he's skulking and put an end to it, you know that." Old Man Krem snorted in derision, scowling at the blond as Sasha mouthed a few words to herself, not really paying much attention, although finding out someone was called Iron foot almost distracted her from trying to remember the song that was on the top of her fucking tongue, I swear to god—

"That brat thinks being a retired Marine means he's gotta rite to police people has another thing comin' if he thinks he can boss me around, boy," Krem growled. "I changed that brats nappys and put him over my knee more'n once as a brat, and I'll do it again, mark my words."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Marlow laughed, and Sasha straightened abruptly, slapping the counter sharply with triumph.

"I remember!" She crowed gleefully, before taking a deep breath and beginning to sweetly sing.

"Cruel and Cold, like winds, on the Seas,

Will you Ever Return, to me?

Hear my Voice…

Sing, with the Tide…

My Love Will Never Die…"

Sasha found herself swaying slightly, eyes closed in concentration as she sang, rocking on her stool as the bar quieted down to listen.

"Over waves and Deep, in the Blue…

I will give up my Heart, for You.

Ten Long Years… I'll wait, to go by…

My Love, will Never, Die…"

Sasha shifted her tone, the next part of the song coming out fiercer and stronger, lest soft-sad-lullaby and more slightly-ominous demand.

"Come, My Love, be One, with the Sea!

Rule with Me, for Eternity!

Drown, all Dreams

So Mercilessly…

And Leave, their Souls, to Me…

Play the Song, you Sang, Long Ago!

And, wherever the Storm may blow!

You will find, the Key, to my Heart

We'll Never Be Apart!

Wild and Strong, You can't be Contained!

Never Bound nor Ever Chained!

Wounds you caused, will Never Mend…

And You Will Never

End!"

Taking a deep breath, Sasha slid back into the softer, sadder tone of the song, a small smile on her face, not hearing the door of the bar open, despite how quiet everything was.

"Cruel and Cold…

Like Winds, on the Seas…

Will You Ever Return, to Me?

Hear, My Voice…

Sing, with the Tide…

Our Love…

Will Never…

Die…"

Sasha let the last soft, sad note trail off slowly, then opened her eyes to smile brightly at the staring Bar Lady, Marlow, and Krem, temporarily ignoring the others in the bar who were also staring.

"That was pretty," the Bar Lady told her bluntly; Sasha beamed, proud, as she took a quick sip of her water.

"Thanks!" She chirped, squirming a bit in her seat with pride, beaming. "I'm just happy I remembered the lyrics, even if it took me a while! Stupid head injury," she grumbled, pouting, as she reached up to automatically rub the healing-bruises around her head wound. "Still, it's a nice song! It's the lullaby-slash-love song of Davy Jones and the Sea Goddess, Calypso!"

"A West Blue song," a slow, purposeful voice of the Judgmental Guy from the Docks drawled from the doorway, making Sasha blink and lean back on her stool so she could peer over at the stern-faced man around the lounging form of Marlow. "So, at least that checks out a bit with your Slaver Story." Sasha blinked at him, bemused, and someone muttered off to the side,

"Old Iron Foot is at it again with the conspiracies…" Immediately, the already stern-faced man scowled, stalking into the bar properly and accepting an offered tankard of something-alcoholic from the pretty Bar Lady as he deliberately took the seat on Sasha's other side.

"Oh right, you guys were never properly introduced!" Marlow exclaimed with obviously forced cheer as he straightened and turned around on the stool, smiling bright at Sasha as she tentatively started eating again, looking between the cheerful blond and the scowling man. "Sasha, meet Retired Marine Commodore Smith "Iron Foot" Marius! Called such because of his ability to kick canon balls right out of the air!" Sasha paused in her chewing, blinking twice slowly, before leaning back and peering down at the Ex-Marine's feet with disbelieving focus.

"…Specialty shoes?" She asked after swallowing her mouthful, voice considering; the Ex-Marine snorted and took a gulp of his drink.

"Haki and Strength Training," he grunted; Sasha frowned, pointing her fork at him.

"There's that word again," she complained, making the Ex-Marine arch a brow.

"Oh, Haki?" Marlow said, leaning in, and Sasha bobbed her head, now pointing her fork at him for emphasis before getting more food. "Oh, that's an easy one! Basically, it's weaponized willpower!" Sasha stared at him, chewing with deliberate slowness, and made her expression as deadpan, 'are you a fucking idiot' as she possibly could. The scowling Commodore snorted on her other side as Marlow visibly pouted, before he took a gulp of his brew before getting her attention to explain.

"Haki is, as he said, a form of weaponized Will Power," the Ex-Marine stated clearly. "There are three types, called Armament, Observation, and Conquerors. Armaments if physical Will Power," he told her, holding up a clenched fist. Sasha stared, gob-smacked and a little freaked out, as the skin of his hand turned into a blackish, metallic color, what the fuck? "Those trained in Armament can, with the right amount of training and power, stop most physical attacks, including bullets, blades, and, yes, Canon Balls."

"What the fuck?" She whispered leaning forward and tentatively poking the Commodore's hand, making him snort even as he held the blackened fist out for her to poke at some more. "Can you feel me doing this?" She asked, bewildered, as she tried to gently scratch at the metallic-looking skin; he shrugged and pulled his hand back, skin returning to its natural coloring. So fucking wiggy, she thought, a little unnerved, a little fascinated.

"Observation Haki is non-physical," he continued without clarifying his answer about feeling her touch, the jerk. "Those with proper training in Observation can predict attacks enough to dodge, and some with especially powerful or sensitive Observation are rumored to even be able to see partially into the future." Immediately, Sasha grimaced, wrinkling her nose.

"Gross," she stated firmly, shaking her head, making Marlow laugh and Smith—or was his last name Marius? She'd have to ask for clarification—snort.

"Useful," the Ex-Marine corrected firmly.

"Knowing the future is stressful, emotionally and mentally damaging, and causes more harm than good," she refuted firmly, shaking her head and gesturing at him with her fork. "Sure, it sounds neat, like for a fight, I guess, but, who the fuck actually wants to know everything that's going to happen to them? It ruins everything, and, on top of that, there's the whole self-fulfilling Prophesy aspect where you try to avoid the bad things you see but in trying to avoid them you fall right into them, and that's a whole different can of snakes, so, yeah, no. Gross." Marius(?) snorted and took another swig of his drink, shaking his head with a faint smirk.

"If you say so, kiddo." Now it was Sasha's turn to snort and shake her head.

"I'm twenty-nine, thank you," she drawled back sassily. "If I'm a kiddo, that makes you gramps, doesn't it?" Marlow next to her choked and almost spewed his booze, wheezing and coughing explosively as Marius sent her a disbelieving look. Sasha, in turn, offered him a bright, slightly-bitchy smile and folded her hands under her chin in a cutesy pose. "I have a baby-face that makes me look sixteen, I know, believe me, I fucking Know." The Bar Lady coughed slightly, immediately getting Sasha's attention.

"Ah, um, I'm sorry for the confusion," she said, smiling sheepishly at Sasha. "Thought you were a teenager, so I didn't bother offering anything with alcohol. You want something besides water?" Sasha blink, before grinning cheerfully at the woman and shaking her head cheerfully.

"Nah, n alcohol, not while I'm malnourished as I am, but thanks!" She chirped back. "I will take some milk or juice if you have some, though?" The woman bobbed her head, smiling sweetly as she moved away.

"One cup of milk, coming up!"

"Hell yeah," Sasha muttered, rubbing her hands together. "Motherfucking moo juice!" Marlow's coughing, finally settling down, burst into choked, ragged laughter, utterly helpless, as he tried to choke out the words 'moo juice' at her side, clinging to the bar to keep from falling. "Fuck off, blondie, I literally can't remember the last time I had milk, but it sure as fuck has been longer than the week I've been stuck at sea with only oranges and water."

"Do you still want to know about the third form of Haki or should I see myself out," the Commodore asked wryly; Sasha sent him an impish grin as she took her glass of milk from the pretty Bar Lady eagerly. "The third and final form of Haki is Conquerors Haki, and it isn't something you train to get, but have to be born with."

"That's the one you guys thought I used on Blue, right?" Sasha asked, slurping on her milk. "That or the weird fruit thing?" Marius nodded calmly.

"Those who have Conquerors Haki can use it to knock those of weaker Will Power unconscious, and can temporarily tame Sea Kings with it, allowing them to have their ships or boats, in your case, towed along by the beasts. That 'weird fruit thing', as you called it," he added, with a grimace at her obviously brilliant terminology, "is a special fruit that's said to be cursed. Eating it gives you a power, unique to each fruit, but takes away your ability to swim in response." Sasha slowly lowered her almost-empty cup of milk, staring at the Ex-Marine in disbelief.

"Magic power from fruits," she said slowly; he nodded once, sharply, face serious. "…You're fucking with me."

"No," he replied immediately, before gesturing at the pretty Bar Lady. "Amelia here ate the Sake-Sake Fruit, which allows her to make any type of alcohol that she's ever had to drink, and also makes her immune to alcohol." Turning, Sasha stared at the woman in disbelief, and the Bar Lady offered her a wink and held up an empty mug, which, with a snap of her fingers, rapidly filled with what smelled strongly like whiskey, which she then passed to Old Man Krem.

"That… Holy shit, that's an amazing superpower for a bartender, holy shit!" Sasha blurted, waving her hands around. "Like, oh my god, you lucky bitch! You're super pretty and have the best superpower for your job? Hoe! What the fuck?!" Immediately, Amelia and Marlow started laughing, and, this time, the blond hit the ground. Even Marius and Krem started chuckling, as well as a few other patrons, as Sasha just flailed for emphasis, disbelief fading away.

Someone a few minutes later started up a drinking challenge that Krem goaded Marius and Marlow into joining, and Sasha got another plate of food to enjoy as she cheered the steadily drunker crowd on. She had no idea what was up with the superpowers, and any of her memories about them seemed to be about fictional characters, but it was obvious that they were real. So, maybe the characters and stories were just that, maybe she just didn't have the prerequisite memories, none of that mattered.

All she knew was that she was never eating one of those fruits, because there was so much ocean out there and, drowning? Sure as fuck not something she wanted to do.

…Even if she would have like the chance to scream "I have the power of God AND Anime on my side!" before fighting someone but, hey!

You win some you lose some!

Day Seven: Survived!

A/N: The Davy Jones song is really pretty, btw. Enjoy