AN: Sorry if this one isn't as polished as the others. I've been working crazy hours and haven't been able to devote much time to the story these last few months. I hope you all enjoy the Orange Town reference and Karmen's quirks.
They arrive at Clouse Island a day and a half later. "Who are we looking for here?" Pierce asks.
Karmen picks out the piece of paper and unfolds it. "One Bleekle Hataan," she says. Law had included directions under the island's name.
This town isn't like the last. The buildings are made from rusting metal and trash litters the streets. She can smell something burning and a cat yowls somewhere in the distance. There are sounds of fighting, drunken revelry, and breaking glass. Down the street, a barrel has been set on fire and a small crowd of shifty looking patrons warm themselves around it. "This place doesn't seem anything like the last," Pierce says.
"I know," she responds, a hint of a smile in her voice. "The honesty of this place is stunningly refreshing. I might grow to like it." She bumps his arm lightly. "Come on. Try not to look like a tourist."
She sets her veil in place and he wraps his wings about his torso, concealing the fact that both his hands are ready on his tonfa. They walk openly in the street. The further they travel, the more eyes they can feel peering out at them from windows and racks in the walls. Pierce doesn't say anything, but from the stiffness of his back, Karmen knows he'd rather turn around and try the third name on the list.
Karmen, however, feels this is a swim in the ocean compared to walking through a room of Celestial Dragons. She's so comfortable in this place that she could skip down the road if she didn't think that would draw muggers. She still has half a mind to, just to get a little exercise in after their long trip. Somehow, she doesn't think this fence will take her very seriously if she skips into his place of business.
Her demeanor seems to justify Pierce's and assures him that he must be doing something right for her to be this carefree in a place where he doesn't want to drop his guard for an instant. He could think this or attribute it to her taking pleasure in dangerous things. For his own sanity, he prefers to believe the former.
As they approach, one of the women by the flaming barrel draws their attention as they walk by. "Where are you headed in that fancy get-up?" she asks casually, eying Pierce's "leather cloak" and Karmen's plain blouse and pants. While they were toned down for Winston's work, but in a place like this where even a clean shirt is a rare sight, the quality of even his simplest outfits shines through. "We have business with a friend of a friend," she says.
One of the men near her eyes Pierce. "The only person around here who would do business with someone dressed like you is-"
"Bleekle Hataan?" Karmen asks. "I do hope so."
All of them look a mix of terrified and shock. Another woman shakes her head. "You must be mad or have a death wish," she says. "He's dangerous to associate with."
Amusement plays in Karmen's eyes. "Oh, that's what I'm hoping for, dearie. The last person we tried to deal with ended up dead. I'm hoping this man is a little harder to kill."
Pierce clears his throat. "To clarify, we found her dead and dealt with the man who did it." The group eyes the blind bodyguard. It's obvious that none of them find Karmen capable of "dealing" with a murderer. She doesn't mind. He's supposed to look dangerous. Being small and unassuming only makes taking out enemies that much easier.
"You should turn back now," one of the other men says. "He doesn't deal with people like you."
Karmen allows her smirk to show in the set of her hips. "Oh, I can assure you, he hasn't met anyone like us."
When the group realizes they can't persuade them otherwise and turn back to their fire, not saying another word. When Karmen consults her map again, the first woman snatches at it, but Karmen keeps it out of her reach, clearly using her haki to predict the woman's movements. By the time she recovers, Pierce has placed himself between her and his charge. "Please," the woman begs. "Leave."
The smirk leaves Karmen's being and it's replaced by a steadfastness that changes the expression on the other woman's face. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that."
The woman looks intimidated by Pierce, but her fists shake with determination. "Are you going to hurt him?" she asks. "Bleekle Hataan?"
Karmen studies the woman carefully, eyeing her with interest. "Would you like me to?"
The woman grits her teeth. "Just leave. People like you only make everything worse!"
At the woman's sudden outcry, Pierce's shoulders square and he steps forward. can even twitch a muscle, Karmen is between them, putting a hand on Pierce's wings and applying just enough pressure to keep them from opening. The woman starts, clearly not having seen her move at all. Karmen looks her in the eye with a calm understanding that causes her to pause. "I am only here to make a deal. I will speak to Mr. Bleekle and see if t'is possible. Either way, I will leave peacefully afterward. You have my word."
The woman looks more scared than convinced. Her lips tighten as she asks, "And how do I know that you'll keep it?"
Karmen gives a small chuckle. "You don't," she states. "I'm going to meet with him, and no one here will be able to prevent that, but I hope you can find some peace with it." She begins walking away. Pierce follows half a second after, making sure his tensed lingering presence is the last thing the group sees before they depart.
"Mistress, would you prefer to fly there?" Pierce forces himself to ask. She gets the distinct impression that he wants to pick her up and bypass these streets and buildings and reach their destination as fast as possible so they can leave at their earliest convenience.
Karmen gives him a soft smile. "No, but thank you, Pierce," she says. "There are things down here that I need to see."
Pierce's eyebrow gives a microscopic twitch, but he silently relents.
They walk silently for a long stretch. Karmen keeps her eyes on the people peeking out of windows and over rooftops and from behind structures. She doesn't make her observations obvious or turn her head. She keeps them in her periphery as Pierce stiffly walks only inches behind. Eventually, they turn down an alley that seems all but deserted, save for one presence.
Karmen looks down at her map and as she does a rock passes inches in front of her nose. Pierce moves to teach the assailant a lesson but Karmen places a hand on his shoulder. "If they meant to hit me, they would have," she says softly. "Isn't that right?"
She leans forward and peers around a trash bin to find a young teenage boy. He's wearing a tattered t-shirt and cargo pants and is covered in dirt from head to toe, making it hard to identify aspects of his appearance. Still, his bright blue eyes watch her fiercely and unwavering.
"Well, you have my attention. How may I help you?"
The kid sniffs and rubs his nose. "Leave Bleekle Hataan alone," he says. "People like you usually cause trouble. So if you're here to cause problems, just leave."
Karmen is glad she'd put on her veil because there's no way she could have hid her smile. Here is this kid and his rocks, ready to take on the world for the man they were going to meet. "What a prosperous man this Mr. Bleekle must be to have the friendship and loyalty of one as noble as you," she says. The boy blushes and looks away.
"But I'm afraid I've come too far to turn away," she continues. "I simply desire to sell him something. If he wants it, we'll conduct our business and my partner and I will leave. If he doesn't, my partner and I will go do business with someone else. I am merely a secretary. I do not actively seek conflict."
The boy frowns as if he really doesn't want to believe her, but he's having trouble not finding her convincing. "You don't look like a secretary," he finally says, as if that's reasonable causation for argument and distrust. Maybe it is. He shuffles his feet, rolling a pebble across the ground. "But I guess you seem nice enough. I'll let you go on, but we'll be watching."
Karmen's eyes give a flash of knowing. "Oh, I would expect nothing less."
As they continue down the marked path, Pierce shuffles his wings. "Back there, you called me your partner," he says when he feels her eyes on him.
"I did," she states. "You are my partner in crime, my right-hand man, my most trusted ally. Does it make you happy to hear me say it out loud in public?"
He is quiet a moment, out of consideration or embarrassment she isn't quite sure. "Perhaps a little," he says in a low voice. "I know you think highly of me, my lady." Nothing changes in his rigid demeanor except for the slightest upward turn to the corners of his mouth.
"More than you know," she says, voice thick with endearment.
They follow Law's map to a gap in a scrap metal wall. On one side, is a dirty, silent, run-down alley. On the other is a market that explodes with sound and activity- a place full of spices, expensive fabric, jewelry, clothing, weapons, tools, building materials, knick-knacks, and food. Karmen notices that the inside of the wall is heavily padded to keep the noise contained as the market is hidden from above by long sheets of thin fabric.
Pierce's stomach rumbles as they continue, but he makes no request to stop for food. The people they pass look a lot like the people they'd met on the street outside, but more relaxed. They look happy.
Pierce, however, does not. His ears and nostrils are twitching and he's moved closer to Karmen. His wings pull in tighter as people press in around them, pushing to get down the street. He's on the verge of sensory overload and she knows it. Karmen quickly places a hand on his shoulder and guides him forward through the crowd.
"We're almost there," she assures him. She doesn't have to consult the map anymore. She has the last few turns memorized. They push through and emerge on the other side.
As they clear into a less crowded area, she sees a settlement of silken tents. There are small ones in cool colors of purple, blue, and green surrounding a large red one. "At least sell the necklace before you burn the place down," Pierce mutters under his breath when they get close enough for him to smell the fabric over the people.
"I can't burn all the silk in the world," she says regretfully.
She nods towards the red tent. "At least they picked my color. We go to the one in the center." As they travel, people start to become scarce. By the time they reach the tent, there isn't a soul about besides the spear-toting guard barring their way.
"State your business," he says, sniffing as he looks them over with suspicion.
"I've a business proposal for a Mr. Bleekle," Karmen states.
"Trade, purchase, sale, or appraisal?"
"Sale."
"Wait here," he says before stepping inside.
"He didn't ask you your name," Pierce comments.
"No," she responds. "I suspect most of his partners like remaining discreet."
Pierce nods, then waits a few moments before beginning a narration. "He's talking to someone. He doesn't want to let us in. Claims you're shifty and I look dangerous. The other man is telling him that he worries too much and the guard is arguing that the other man is too trusting and that always gets him into heaps of trouble. Argue, argue, argue- Ah. Here we are."
The guard returns a few seconds later, looking slightly befuddled. "You may enter but I must take your weapons."
Pierce discreetly shakes his head, indicating that the man inside had said nothing of the sort, but Karmen only smiles. "Of course. We're willing to show you our good faith. We are only here for business, after all."
Pierce hands over his tonfa blades without hesitation and Karmen unstraps her grenade belt and dagger. She sees Pierce flinch microscopically as she hands over her quills and poisons, but makes no move to stop her. The guard seems surprised by the number and nature of objects she hands him, but he says nothing as he steps inside and deposits them on a table.
When he returns, he ushers them inside. "He will see you now."
They follow him through several curtained entryways and end up in a large chamber. Tables laden with food and priceless artifacts line the edges and thick rugs overlap across the floor. Oil lamps stand in places where the light casts a rosy glow across the silk and causes any metal to glisten.
On a lounging couch in the center of the chamber is a man dressed in silk trousers, roping sandals, and a heavily embroidered coat. He has a thick, wiry beard and mustache that continues up into a mane on his head, peppered with gray. He has bushy tufts of eyebrows above his glimmering coal black eyes. In his heavily ringed hand he holds a smoking pipe, but does not raise it to his thick lips.
"Welcome, friends," he says, waving his pipe as added emphasis to his booming, deep-bellied voice. "I am Bleekle Hataan. My men tell me that you did not eat at the bazaar. Please, help yourself to anything you desire, though I do not think you'll find the chocolates on the gold plates to your liking."
Pierce sniffs. "They're poisoned," he states. Hataan quirks a fuzzy caterpillar of an eyebrow but does not deny it. "The chocolate and smoke cover it well, but I recognize the scent of a plant and snake venom beneath it."
Karmen gives a viperous smirk that Hataan cannot see outside of the slight crinkle of her eyes and steps to the nearest gold plate. "A man after my own heart," she says, picking up a chocolate square. "I was needing another dose."
She watches with amusement as his eyes widen. He stares as she raises the square to her lips beneath the veil and bites off the corner. It is rich and dark and she can identify the poisons the instant it touches her tongue. Karmen hums in delight and takes a larger sample.
"There are few practitioners who consider taste with their toxicity. I admit, your selection impresses me." She eats the rest of the square and gives him time to cover his shock.
"I do aim to please," he says, twirling a portion of his beard that may actually be the end of his mustache.
"I have seen," she informs him. "We were watched from the moment we set foot on shore and several people discouraged us from approaching. Some were even near willing to fight to defend you. You are well-loved by the people here and I can see why you were recommended to me."
He looks nonchalant, but there is a gleam in his eye. "And who was it that gave you my name?"
Karmen gives a small, wasted smirk. "An arrogant pirate captain whom I'm fond of," she says. "You can call me Ghost and the man with me is Demon." Pierce's ear twitches slightly, but he makes no other reaction.
Hataan eyes her curiously. "Why do you feel the need to hide your names, Ghost?" he asks.
"I have my reasons, as you have yours," she says in her viper voice. "You do not exist outside of the business, just as we do not exist," Pierce inhales a deep, slow breath. Karmen knows this slight swelling of his chest is the only signifier of pride he will show in front of others, but she still has to bite down a smirk as he does it.
Hataan watches her closely, completely missing the satisfaction ebbing from the pair. "And what business brings you to here today?" he asks, curiosity and hunger burning in his eyes.
"I have something of high risk to sell. I understand you have the coin and the means to find a new place for it."
"You have my interest, though I cannot imagine you have anything more dangerous than what I've dealt with before," he says with an air of arrogance.
"Perhaps," she says, keeping her tone light. "We'll let the merchandise do the talking."
"What is this item?"
Karmen reaches into her sleeve and pulls out the necklace. She straightens the gems and holds it out for him to inspect.
Bleekle reaches under his beard and pulls out a loupe, setting the small magnifying glass to his eye. He sits up and leans in to inspect it closely.
His eyes narrow and his teeth clench.
It's obvious that he thinks it's a joke or a trick, but the longer he looks, the more the visible patches of skin on his face begin to sweat. There's a jolt of realization before his eyes roll back in his head and he falls forward, landing on his face, foaming at the mouth.
Pierce sniffs. "Did you poison him?"
Karmen frowns. "I don't think so," she says. She scans him with her haki while she stamps out the burning tobacco that had spilled from his pipe. "I'm pretty sure he's just in shock. Could you put him back on the couch?"
Pierce picks Bleekle up and drapes him limply over his shoulder, grunting slightly with his weight. It is at that exact moment that the guard pokes his head in. he stops, mid-stride, mouth gaping. Pierce gently lays Bleekle down and checks his breathing, completely ignoring the newcomer. "He'll be fine," he says. "He's already starting to recover."
Anger floods the guard's face and he scowls. "Did you do this?" he asks, voice shaking with a dangerous edge.
"Hm?" Karmen puts the necklace back in her sleeve and looks at him over her shoulder as if she was noticing him for the first time. A memory flashes through her eyes and they narrow with a smile. "I suppose I did- in a sense."
His teeth grind. "I'll kill you for this," he growls.
She blinks at him. "Well, you can try, but it's hard to kill someone who's already dead." She reverses her haki and lightly touches Pierce's arm. The guard blinks as they disappear.
"Why did you say it like that?" Pierce asks as they collect their weapons.
She smiles and hums softly. "Just something Nami said our captain did once, before I joined the crew," she tells him. "The people fiercely love Mr. Bleekle. It's good to have that passion fueled every now and then."
"Wouldn't it be easier to tell them that he passed out when he saw the necklace?" he asks as they step out of the tent, narrowly avoiding rushing guards who take no notice of their presence.
She shrugs. "And damage the image he's created? Have a little professional courtesy," she says. "If he wants to do the honorable thing and admit we didn't do anything to him when he wakes up, I'll appreciate it. If not, we have a little needle to poke him with if we ever need to do business with him again."
"You'd blackmail a man who's backed by an entire island?" he asks as he climbs onto her back.
"It's not blackmail, it's image," she says, climbing up the side of a building. "And I've directly attacked the husband of a Celestial Dragon before. Blackmailing a small-fry like Hataan is child's play."
"I'll cover you, whatever you decide to do," he responds as they climb onto the roof. "How far away is the next person on the list?"
She leaps off the edge and his wings snap open, carrying them towards the coast. "We've got a ways to go," she says. "Enough for us to do some thinking."
"About what?"
"Branching out."