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⸶Imagine Dreamers!⸷
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Sideline I
The Wicked Ways of a Witch
X~ = = = = = = = = = = = ~X
[Somewhere in South Blue]
The incessant croaking of hundreds of frogs littering a beach would be enough to test anyone's patience. Croak-croak-croak, on, and on, and on and on and on and on! Screw testing one's patience, this damn noise was grinding her sanity to dust! And utterly ruining her teatime!
Though she had to bear it, seeing as she was the reason for that cacophony in the first place. Unfortunately for her mental stability it was still too early to take back that decision.
"Bit loud here, innit?" her partner for tea quipped, grinning like a loon while sipping her tea like a proper lady of high society. Going by looks alone though, with sharp teeth, voluminous wild crimson hair worn in two tails with barb wire in a style that could only be described as 'aggressive', and her intentionally torn up clothing, one would be sane to assume the woman to be just some punk rocker chick with a deranged sense of style.
They'd be wrong and right on both counts.
"Mad Harlot" Babalon
Disgraced Princess of the Fallen Kingdom of Babylonia
[Bounty: 77,000,000 Berry]
The 20-something woman was very infamous, and dangerous enough that her bounty was far too small for what she had brought about damn near single handedly. Or that was her opinion, at least. The reasons for this escaped her; the Boss hadn't deemed fit to inform her of such details.
One would think a person who was personally responsible for the total destabilization and near destruction of an entire kingdom would have a bounty in the couple hundreds at least.
But such semantics were none of her problem. Leave such minutia to the Marines and the World Government.
She just sipped her cup filled with the darkest liquid one could produce while still being remotely palatable, trying to desperately gain some enjoyment out of the moment.
Babalon quirked a brow, her grin never shifting. "Bit strange, don't ya think? To have a cuppa coffee for teatime?"
"Bite me!" she sniped at her, glaring as hard as possible to communicate how much she didn't want to be here.
"Up-up-up," Babalon waggled a finger at her in lighthearted disapproval. "Not on the first date, luv!"
…
Was it too unreasonable to just kill this crazy psycho bitch? Sure, the Boss would go on about it 'not being a part of his grand design', but surely there were other options out there?
On the other hand, she had to reluctantly agree that it would make all her own effort to get to this point meaningless, making all her work a waste of time. So in the end she just had to bear with it all.
AND THE FROGS WERE STILL CROAKING!
One of the bastards, an ugly yellow one, had been slapping at her boot for a while as if it did anything. She raised her foot and stomped the frog into a pancake. That made the other frogs stop croaking for a few blessed seconds, before the cacophony returned with a vengeance, louder than ever.
The fuckers might be utterly powerless now, but fuck her if they hadn't figured out a way to make her existence hell regardless.
"Ooh~," Babalon crooned, leaning forward and wiggling her rump above her seat. "Don't think they 'preciated you offin' Johnie boy like that, luv." She tilted her head and hummed in thought. "Or at least I think tha' could 'ave been Johnie. Whatcha think, Sally?"
A vein pulsed beneath the green skin on her forehead, her lips pulling back to reveal the gleam of sharp, jagged iron in her mouth. Her fingers curled, the long and sharp iron nails easily digging a trenches into the wooden table between the two women.
"It's. Salem!" she snapped with a snarl filled with all her hate and malice.
"Whatever ya say, darlin'!" Babalon responded with her infuriating pep and manic cheerfulness, returning to her seat, the cup of tea still on her hand. She even had her pinky finger extended, the pretentious bitch. "Now, what's it gonna take for little ol' me to get you talkin' 'stead of poutin'?"
Salem would have felt insulted if that wasn't her neutral state of being. This meeting just made it more pronounced. And she didn't fucking pout!
The green skinned woman with teeth and nails of sharp iron closed her amethyst eyes and inhaled deeply. She tried, honest to god tried to shut out the bastard frogs causing her to slowly inch closer and closer to a one woman apocalypse.
But the god damn FROGS still kept croaking, and croaking, and croaking and croaking and croaking croaking croakin CROAKING CROAKING-!
Faster than an eye could even blink, her hand moved and a handful of five frogs were firmly in her clutches. And then she softly squeezed, not enough to crush them, but certainly make it discomforting.
The hundreds of croaking amphibians stopped in unison. Not at the action itself, but at the literal shift in the surrounding air. It was as if the light of the sun itself dimmed and darkened as a wretched green miasma started wafting off of the green-skinned woman's every pore, blanketing the beach in an air of malevolence.
"If I hear so much as gods damned peep from ANY OF YOU!" Salem screamed, releasing all her pent up fury as the green miasma moves with a will to shroud the five frogs in her grasp.
The frogs in question squirmed and doubtlessly would have screamed in horrific agony were their forms able to do so as their soft flesh rapidly decayed and sloughed off until nothing but bones remained in Salem's hand.
The green miasma then seeped into the bones themselves, which Salem dropped onto the table in a messy pile. And within a few seconds a green light sputtered to life in the darkened eye sockets of the skeletal frogs. The dead bones then untangled themselves and moved with the new life breathed into them, hopping into a uniform line in front of the green-skinned woman like a squad awaiting orders.
"I'll make sure that your last moments and beyond will be agony beyond compare!" Salem finished her threat and show of power, the green miasma dissipating into the air and daylight in the immediate area returning to normal.
The rest of the frogs, having borne witness to the horrific deaths and resurrection of their undead kin, stayed blissfully silent. They knew better now.
'Finally!' Salem thought in internal jubilation. 'Peace and quiet!'
"Well, that's a neat trick now, luv!" Babalon quipped, sharing in exactly zero of that fear.
'FUCK!' Salem cursed, because this one she couldn't really intimidate into silence, even if she really wanted to.
"Gotta say, much more 'oomph' than turnin' all me good fellas into toads," Babalon offered her unwanted and unasked commentary with cheer totally unbecoming of the situation. "Very ominous! A real necromancer vibe, ya know. Really sells the whole witch-y thing ya got there!"
"They're frogs. And don't patronize me, harlot!" Salem hissed, infuriated but unable to offer a defense because that's literally what she had going for her.
"For you? Any time you're ready for it, luv!" Babalon replied with a saucy wink and a lean with a wiggle that emphasized her figure and...bounciful- bountiful assets.
Salem ignored her, of course. There was nothing happening to her. She was just...jealous! Yes, envious of the disparity- THAT WAS NOT BETTER!
"Aww~," Babalon cooed, crossing her fingers, bringing both hands next to her cheek to gush. "Yer blush's minty coloured! Tha's so cute!"
"SHUT UP!" Salem stood up and slammed her hands onto the table, making it creak dangerously. She wasn't blushing! She wasn't!
Just because the damn punk princess bitch had big boobs and a thin waist with a hint of abs and a perky butt and thighs like pillows one could fall asleep on and plenty of exposed soft caramel skin and red eye shadow that really brought out her serpent-like slitted yellow eyes- ARGH!
…
Inhale...exhale. Inhale...exhale.
Inhale…
…
…
…Exhale.
Salem needed to calm down. That- that snake of a temptress was getting in her head. Yes, manipulation, that's all this was! And nothing else!
"You...aight there, hun?" Babalon, grinning with teeth as always but feigning concern with her eyes.
"Perfectly," Salem hissed through her teeth, refusing to fall to these...these ruses! So to that effect her mind turned purely to business. "I'm here on the behalf of my Boss, to extend you and your miscreants an offer."
Her hand went into the large sleeve of her black dress with cobalt green lining around the sleeves and hem- the witch-y image completed by a black pointy hat with a green ribbon on her head -bringing out a round object that she rolled across the table to the harlot.
"Ooh, finally talkin' business then?" Babalon grabbed it well before it could roll of the edge and inspected the large round, white ball in her hand. "...Wot? Wanna play pool?"
Salem resisted slamming a palm to her face- that was a good way to accidentally cut herself -and kept her face schooled as she mimed a twisting motion.
"Oh~," Babalon mouthed quietly, twisting the white orb in her hands for a bit before finding a well hidden seam, twisting and popping the white orb in half. The punk ex-princess quirked a brow and removed the object hidden inside to inspect it. "Wot's this now?"
"I am here on the behalf of The Billiards group," Salem spoke, as calmly and professionally as she could muster. "And this" she gestured at the bulbous compass in the young woman's hands, "can be considered your initiation test."
"Aight." Babalon shrugged, inspecting the object like the curiosity it was, before her gaze darted back to the Witch opposite her. "But wotsit tho?"
Salem rolled her eyes, but didn't mock her ignorance. She was tempted though. "That is an Eternal Pose. A special compass made for traversing the Grand Line. It will always point towards a single preset destination."
"Aaand I'm guessin' tha's the base of this pool club o' yours," Babalon quipped, tossing the Eternal Pose in her hand in a manner that gave Salem conniptions.
"Careful with that!" she hissed, the iron nail of her pointer finger aimed at the reckless wench. "Those are rare! And it's The Billiards, capitalized, not pool!"
"Ain't those the same?" Babalon asked before placing the Eternal Pose on the table, easing the witch's frustration by a mite. "So, you and this 'Boss' bloke o' yours just askin' me and me mates to sail off to the so called 'Pirate Graveyard' to show our mettle or wot?"
"We don't need weaklings who can't survive what the Grand Line brings," Salem stated. "But you and these 'Fallen' are not just some chaff. Your group and you, their leader, are among the rising Super Stars of the world's most wanted. And that has earned my Boss' interest."
"But our lot gotta prove tha' we can back up the hype, eh?" Babalon wondered, looking off to the side at their distant ship and taking a deep sip of her tea.
The ship was large galleon, easily big enough to fit and be manned by Babalon and the some 700 men and women who made up her followers, the so called "Babylon's Fallen". The ship, from what the Boss had deigned to inform her, was the former head of Babylonia's war fleet, the Grand Babel. So named after the towering palace that sat at Babylonia's center. A grand structure said to reach the clouds above and serve as a gateway to the Heavens.
Until Babalon brought the whole thing down, along with the rest of the kingdom. Even the Boss estimated that the ancient relic from the Void Century would take hundreds of years to rebuild, if such a feat was even possible in this day and age.
"And this base o' yours," Babalon started, setting her now empty cup down, rubbing her chin in contemplation. "All we's got to do is reach the island it's at? And then we're in? No other secret tests o' character or summat?"
"Reaching it alive is that test," Salem deadpanned with an eye roll. "The Grand Line will either break and spit you out, kill you...or you persevere and reach your destination. There is no in-between."
Babalon stood up and expressively hummed and hawed for a while, pacing around the table. It took her so long that, out of nowhere, a seagull swooped down and carried off one of the frogs in its beak. The infernal croaking resumed in full force as that incited a chain reaction in the amphibian fuckers.
Salem was this close to just committing a mass murder for the sin of existing, before her attention was marginally diverted.
"Firstly!" Babalon finally spouted out and raised her hand, pointing skyward. "You gotta change me mates back 'fore they become bird chow!"
"As long as they behave," Salem said warningly. With a wave of her hand the skeleton frogs jumped off the table and the green miasma from her skin spread around the area until it was almost impossible to see through it. Within the area the sounds of reignited croaking suddenly transitioned into groans, moans and screams, Salem's [Transfiguration] being canceled.
And then Salem willed to miasma to lift, revealing not a sandy beach filled to the brim with frogs, but several hundreds of living, breathing people, each in varying states of terror, confusion, or grave indignation. All dressed like a bunch of punks and hooligans more at home at a rowdy concert than the sea.
Except the five animated frog-turned-human skeletons standing behind Salem's seat, flanking her like guards. They were nice and obedient, not to mention quiet. The best kind of servants!
One of the Fallen in particular, a person with dull green hair and a crimson headband swore before coughing as their throat reacquired itself with talking. Salem couldn't really figure out whether the individual was a man or a woman. Not that it mattered to her. "Y...Y-you..." the person raised their head, glaring venomously at the Witch, slowly rising and their hand going to the strange bass-axe monstrosity slung over their back. "You vile tongued-!"
"Ferry all o' our mates back to Grand Babel." Babalon interrupted such an action before Salem would make the androgynous individual really regret it.
"...Wha..." the woman's second-in-command boggled at her leader. "My lady, this witch-!"
"Go, Barbelo," Babalon insisted, her omnipresent toothy grin turning a bit sharper as she tossed the Eternal Pose to her follower, who fumbled to catch it. "And get Crowley to have a gander at those maps o' his an' start plannin' a course!"
"I..." the androgynous vice-leader looked like they wanted to argue, but a single glance from the infamous Mad Harlot made their choice clear. "...Yes, your ladyship!" Barbelo whistled to get the attention of the rest of their Fallen. "Everyone, back to the dingies! We're heading back, Lead's orders!"
Some had obvious protests, but did not voice them, while many more moved very fast to get as far away from the Witch as possible. 'Good!'
"Oh!" Babalon added with a wave at the retreating bodies of her followers "An' don't forget to feed Therion! She's been a tad hangry as o' late, so 'ave Seffy make it extra spicy just as the ol' girl likes it!"
While her followers filed out of the beach and boarded their dinghies, Babalon remained behind. The punk ex-princess shot a glance at the five skeletons of her formerly alive crew flanking the green-skinned woman.
Salem's mouth quirked into a wicked grin, her iron teeth flashing in the light. "I'm keeping the bones."
"Aight, have your bone squad!" Salem's grin fell, replaced with a glower. That bitch just had to ruin it. How was this damned woman so unflappable?! "Just got one last question for ya, luv."
Sensing that things were close to this nightmare finally being over, Salem stood from her seat to stretch her legs. She was on the home stretch now! "Fine. Out with it!" the Witch spat out, crossing her arms and refusing to face the damnable harlot.
That proved to be a minor mistake as Babalon's grin just then was like that of a cat eyeing a canary as she sneakily slinked over to bump shoulders with the green-skinned woman. "How likely do ya reckon we two's gonna meet face to face again?"
Salem's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she gave the punk ex-princess- who was almost a head taller than her, to the Witch's displeasure -a wicked stink eye. But simultaneously her brow quirked up, confused as to where the hell this question was coming from. "Well, it is our base you'll be seeking, so pretty likely-"
*Smack!*
"-Kyah!" Salem jolted, the witch's hat almost leaping off her head and landing askew, her back shooting ramrod straight and her arms curling tightly against her streamlined bust as her face flushed a bright mint color.
"Bya-ba-ba-ba-baa!" Babalon cackled, merrily skipping past the Witch. She turned heel to face her, even as she continued to skip backwards with a pep to her step. "I'll be lookin' forward to gettin' real closely acquainted then, luv~!" the manic woman chirped, spicily running her surprisingly long tongue over her ferocious teeth with a hearty wink.
Momentarily stunned, all Salem could do was watch the punk ex-princess retreat as her brain rebooted itself. Stare at that...ever more distant back with its supple musculature and the swing of those hips which really accentuated what those booty shorts did to her-
*SLAP!*
"GAH!" the Witch cried as her self-administered smack to the face had the logical possible side effect of one of her nails cutting her face. The pain did help her break out of that damned harlot's snare though, so she did not mind it too much. It would heal soon enough.
And it was not like any of them could bleed anyway...
Exhaling loudly to let out some of the frustrated tension brewing in her system, Salem sat back down by the table and with a gesture had her newest skeleton servants bring her traveling case to her. Following that the skeletal servants- her [Deadfellows] -opened it and brought a large Transponder Snail to the table.
It was a very rare sub-species, specially bred for their purposes. A usual Transponder Snail was about the size of a house cat or smaller and connected to one another through a world-wide shared telepathic network. But this specimen was about three times that size with a smooth white shell that the snail's body hid in like a hermit crab. Along its shell was a complicated rig with small indentations where many smaller Transponder Snails could nestle, connecting via the Network Transponder Snail to a smaller, limited...well, network.
In essence, the Network Transponder Snail served as a means for private group calls. It was all their Boss' idea to facilitate shared communication among the important members of The Billiards without a danger of being listened in on by any Black Transponder Snails.
Banishing any fictitious 'fact' that anything resembling a girly yelp had ever left her lips and swearing to never allow anything to bring such slander to light, Salem flicked a switch on the Network Transponder Snail's rig, sending out the open call signal.
"Puru-puru-puru... Puru-puru-puru... Puru-puru-puru... Puru-puru-puru..."
Perhaps one of the weaknesses of the Network Snail that Salem would acknowledge(but never mention to the Boss' face) was that it took so much longer to connect to their private network than with a regular Transponder Snails. An 'insignificant sacrifice', as the Boss called it.
"Puru-puru-puru... Puru-puru-puru... Puru-puru-puru...Ka-cha!"
Finally! With the main connection achieved the smaller Transponder Snails, each assigned to a different member, also activated. Or, well, the ones that currently had an owner, anyway.
"A-ah...h-hello? Is- d-did I turn t-this on right?" A quiet, meek and nervous feminine voice stuttered through the Snail marked with a purple circle with a 4 within it.
"You did." / "Stop stuttering, girlie!" / "Hey~, no reason to stumble, little missy. Relax~," came three distinct voices from the snail with a red circle with a 3. A composed voice of a man with focus, a temperamental voice of a woman with attitude, and a relaxed voice of a man who clearly wasn't taking things that seriously.
"Ah! S-s-s-s-sorry!" Purple 4 stuttered in response.
"HUH?!" yelled the snail with a black circle with an white 8 in the voice of a decidedly pissed off woman. "I was having a nap! What's so damn important, HUH?!"
"Lower the volume, please." / "Shut the FUCK up!" / "Eight-Ball, baby~, calm your tits!" Red 3's trio of voiced spoke up.
"Don't tell my tits what to do, Ross!" Black 8, or Eight-Ball, shouted back. Salem swore the woman was never not angry about something or other.
"G-guys, p-p-please d-don't f-f-f-fight!" their resident bundle of nerves stammered to little effect.
"I agree with Felt, I've dealt with enough noise today to last a week and am getting a headache," Salem decided to back Purple 4- Felt -up, her voice coming out on the recipients Snails with a Green 6 on it.
"Please," the smooth, cultured voice spoke through the main Network Snail with an understated air of authority that shut the argument down before it could escalate further, "calm yourselves, my dear Solids."
"Yes, Boss," they all chimed together. Even Eight-Ball, who grumbled about it.
"Good, good," the Boss said approvingly. "Now, I believe it was you who initiated this call, Solid Six. Your report?"
And order that didn't sound like one, but Salem knew better. After all, she was a part of their group's innermost circle.
"Dark Sorceress" Salem
Solid Six of The Billiards
[Bounty: 300,400,000 Berry]
"Yeah," the Witch confirmed. "I just got done with the prime objective. 'Mad Harlot' Babalon and her Fallen have taken on your challenge, Boss. They should be heading for the Grand Line in the coming days."
"Excellent, utterly excellent!" the Boss gave a subdued cheer and a few polite claps. "Personally, I have a good feeling of this group in particular. We may be on our way to gaining another one of our new Stripes!"
Salem winced. She really hoped that seductress didn't make it. Not that she'd voice such dissent to the Boss' face.
"Oh? So we are finally getting company?" Droned a morose voice of a woman from the snail marked with a green line with 14 in it. "Would be neat, I guess. The metal mutt is getting antsy, and I know I'm not exactly an uplifting presence."
Yeah, that was an understatement. Green 14 was always verging on the line between being apathetic and just straight up depressed. Just her being in a room brought the mood down from a 10 to a 2.
"That will be seen, Stripe Fourteen, though I personally would bet on it!" the Boss stated pleasantly. "And it is a shame to hear that our dear Stripe Fifteen is growing anxious. I'll be certain to pair them up with someone for a mission. Let the old dog out for a walk, so to speak."
Unlike everyone else, Stripe Fifteen, or Maroon 15, did not and never would have a proper Transponder Snail of their own due to their very specific circumstances. Mostly because they had other ways to connect to the private network.
Instead of words, the entire Network Snail setup vibrated and hummed as one, conveying a deep and metallic reverberating sound that resembled a bestial growl, if one interpreted it enough. It sounded inherently dangerous, but with a mild pleased undertone.
"...Freaks me the fuck out," the female of the Red 3 trio quipped with mild nervousness she wasn't generally known for.
"L-l-language..." Felt weakly reprimanded the crude woman, but was largely ignored.
"Such a majestic sin against creation," chimed the uncharacteristically calm Eight-Ball.
"Haah~," the Boss exhaled with slight melodrama. "One step closer to filling our missing ranks. And yet, so many seats remain empty, Solids and Stripes both. If only our Solid 1, was still among us...oh well," the nonchalant shrug was almost audible, "we'll recover them from their captivity in time!"
Salem cleared her throat, "Ahem! That's not...quite everything, Boss."
"Oh?" the Boss audibly perked up. "Well, out with it then, Solid Six!"
"The Fallen are not the only group I've been keeping tabs on recently. I think two other groups could fit the bill, Boss. At least enough to offer the initial test," the Witch reported. "There's a group that started out in West Blue, then somehow migrated over to North Blue through the Calm Belt, and now have through some means I cannot even begin to guess crossed the Red Line and have been traveling the East Blue, gathering more and more people along the way."
"Now that is interesting!" the Boss agreed readily. "Pray tell Solid Six, what kind of pirate crew could pull off feats like that?"
"A cult, actually," Salem corrected. "As far as I understand it, it is a cult of personality formed around a single man. And this man has managed to even convert reportedly loyal and steadfast Marines sent to stop him to his cause. His charisma is said to be dangerous and borderline unnatural, so we may want to be extra careful with him."
"Fascinating..." the Boss murmured.
"And suspicious..." / "Sounds like a scam artist to me!" / "But you gotta admit, all that has to mean the fella has something going on," the Red 3 trio put in their three cents.
The Boss hummed in agreement with(most) of the trio. "And the other group of interest?"
"A criminal gang, originally chased out of the Twin Kingdoms of Derse and Prospit after a failed attempt at a coup. Allegedly the gang was involved, and was thus ousted from the kingdoms," Salem conveyed. "Both the boss and their right hand have pretty high Bounties, [11,550,000 Berry] and [41,300,000 Berry] respectively, despite them keeping relatively low profile."
"...Excuse me if I understood this wrong, Solid Six" the Boss spoke up, "but it sounded like you just implied that the Second of this group has an exponentially higher bounty than their Leader?"
"That's what I meant, Boss", the Witch affirmed. "I don't have the information to explain it. That's just what the official bounties suggest."
"...Hah!" the Boss guffawed. "Wonderful! Give them the test! I approve."
'Yeah, on a whim,' Salem snarked internally. "Understood. The latest information suggests they're somewhere in the East Blue, so I'll add them both to my list."
"Good, good~," the Boss repeated, and Salem could just envision him tapping his finger together as he schemed some new plan that they wouldn't learn about until it was 'the right time'. Bah! "Take heed, my Solids and Stripes, for this is what proactive efficiency looks like!"
'God damnit, don't make me into an example!' Salem cursed internally, really not up for being held up as a measuring stick for her dipshit kin and co-workers.
"Now! Onto more...grave matters." Salem and probably every other Solid tensed up, sensing the change in the tone of the conversation. Stripe Fourteen and Fifteen probably didn't care as much. "Despite my estimated timeline running its course to the completion of their most recent mission, a full day has passed and, though I lack a reason as to why, there has been no incoming transmission from Solid Zero reporting their success or failure."
Salem blinked, before rolling her eyes so hard. Riiiight! The fabled "Solid Zero"! Their kin that was somehow 'special' in some nebulous way that the Boss refused to elaborate on and sent out for his most secretive 'plans'. And to top it all, none of them had ever so much as seen a hair of the enigmatic fucker!
"U-um," Felt stammered out a question, "w-what exactly w-was t-t-this mission?"
"No, no! Let me guess," Salem cut in with as much sarcasm as she thought she could get away with. "It was to seek out another rare Zoan Fruit!"
"They are imperative, not to mention optimal to the process," the Boss defended his aims with steel in his voice, signaling every Solid to not question him on this.
But you know what? Salem had had a fucking day and she was feeling all kinds of pent up- frustrated- NO! Nettled! She was all kinds of nettled, so she felt like pushing the envelope this one time!
"Well maybe this whole 'filling the ranks' business would proceed faster if we employed other conditions than breeds of devil fruit that are rare as hell and so close to impossible to find it has taken us years to get this far!"
…
The silence from every single other member on the line was deafening. The Boss' even more so.
"...Solid Six: Salem," the Boss's perfectly level delivery immediately made the Witch to regret her decision. Their leader almost never referred to them by their secondary code names. "You step out of line..." The threatening edge to the line caused Salem to wish she could sweat from the nerves. "...However...perhaps you have a slight point."
Salem let out a silent breath of relief.
"It is true that seeking the rare Zoan Fruits is seeking very specific strings of hay in a haystack. But as past experience has taught me- as the current state of Solid Seven should remind all of you -they are the most optimal and stable foundation."
Salem grimaced, feeling appropriately reproached. Solid 7 was...a sad state of affairs. In truth the Witch pitied the poor thing for how...wrong everything had gone down with them. They were probably the sole being she couldn't bring herself to dislike even if she tried.
"That is exactly why I determined, in my infinite wisdom and knowledge, that utilizing Paramecia was far too unpredictable and to be avoided," the Boss continued coldly. "I deal with many things, but what I do not deal with are uncertainties. Utilizing Paramecia or Logia Fruits are likely to produce unwanted results, while the unique nature of the Zoan Fruits provide an element essential for the process."
A moment of silence passed, where no one had the will to say anything, save for quiet muffled whimpers from Felt's end.
"You will not question me again, Solid Six," the Boss stated, with no room for argument.
"Yes, Boss," Salem spoke near automatically. "Sorry, Boss."
"Hah!" Eight-Ball guffawed abrasively, utterly uncaring of the tension as only a violent simpleton like her could. "Get fucked, nerd!"
The Boss did not afford the interruption even a moment of his time, so neither did Salem.
"Good." A moment passed until the Boss cleared his throat. "However, I will allow this to slide, just this once." Oh thank goodness! "Perhaps...Hmm...Thinking about it, I could make certain calls. I've recently heard tell of Joker dealing in 'smiles' lately. Mayhaps that possibility should be pursued..."
Salem had no idea what that meant, except that Joker was the pseudonym of an underground mover and shaker from the Grand Line the Boss sometimes dealt with. It wasn't her 'place' to know, and truthfully she didn't really care enough to dig into it.
"Returning to the original topic at hand," the Boss discarded the entire conversation aside with little regard. "The current status of Solid Zero will need to be confirmed. Their Transponder Snail is unresponsive, so it has likely broken or perished. While I doubt they would be defeated, the possibility does exist. Thus, it is pertinent for one of our own to survey the site of the disappearance."
'Oh, great!' Salem internally complained, even if it wasn't going to be her job to carry out. 'Let's just send someone to look for this guy we've never even seen before! Genius plan!'
"We'll go," spoke the collected de-facto leader of the Red 3 trio, almost immediately followed by, "Wha- don't speak for the rest of us, bitch!" / "Wait, but you're the female-"
"Solid Three, Gerberos," the Boss called the trio out, shutting the other two out via their shared secondary code name. "Your set of skills will be perfect for this duty. Head to Wildegreen Island in East Blue. Search for any clues as to Solid Zero's ultimate fate...Oh! And do take Stripe Fifteen with you as transport. Two birds, and all that."
"Understood." / "Yeah, I guess..." / "Sure thing, Boss man!" the Gerberos trio affirmed with varying levels of enthusiasm.
"Good. Then I declare this meeting of The Billiards over," the Boss stated. "Return to your tasks!"
Before the Network Snail disconnected, there was one last sardonic quip from Green 14 "So much drama..."
Only once the skeleton servants had securely stored the Network Transponder Snail back into the traveling case did Salem allow herself to relax. God, meetings with all these freaks were the worst, and they were even worse in person! Not only did she have to deal with all her kin and their only two(so far) Stripes that contributed damn near nothing, there was also the omnipresent pressure of their Boss looming over all of them.
"God we need better company," the Witch groused. 'Maybe someone who has an interesting personality, a fun attitude, a butt that can-'
Salem shot up, grabbed her chair and with a loud yell of rage smashed it against the table, which she also shattered into splinters with a kick fueled by all her embarras- FURY!
"Screw this!" Clearly this whole place had been contaminated with that harlot's wiles- trickery! She had to leave, asap!
A swipe of her hand and the sands of the beach were disturbed as a large shape rose from where Salem had hidden it in case things got rowdy. It bore the rough shape of a house the sized of a small mansion, but made entirely of varied skeleton parts, a grand construct of bleached bone. Atop the makeshift building a coiling giant spine and a imposing serpentine skull of a Sea King served as a grandiose roof ornament for the three-story building and acted as a testament to its owners fearsome power.
With a crisp finger snap her five newest servants moved her luggage inside, afterwards being assimilated and added to her greater construct. With that done, the "Dark Sorceress" stepped into the closest thing she had to a home.
She hated that epithet, despised it even. It was so generic! She'd have preferred something less basic, like "The Hexagon", but that was already given to some pathetic wannabe magician named Spiel. As if that novice understood anything about the mystic arts!
She was Salem the Witch! Solid Six of The Billiards, who would one day reveal themselves fully to the world at large and make the seas tremble! By the power of the Mythical Zoan; the Human-Human Fruit, Model: Witch, the arcane was hers to command! She was without parallel, unmatched by anyone!
"Move," Salem commanded as her ivory domicile rumbled and rose off the ground, the whole construct standing up on two bird-like legs made of countless bones, human and otherwise, reinforced by her necromantic magic.
Salem's very own [Dancing Bone Palace] strode out into the ocean, and once the legs of the building were deep enough the bones that formed the construct's legs and foundation shifted into a sea-faring configuration, the spine and skull of the serpentine Sea King animating and slithering below the waves to compose the keel with the skull rising above the waves to act as a terrifying bow ornament, transforming the walking mansion into an ivory ship fueled by Salem's Necromancy.
No windless days or waters without currents would impede her, not even the normally insurmountable Calm Belt, the the ivory vessel propelled via bone shaped into fins and oars that propelled it onward, sailing away to her next destination within the neighboring East Blue. God help anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path.
There was a reason her bounty was over three hundred million, as "Dark Sorceress" Salem was never without her ever growing skeletal army, [The Boneyard]...
…
As her journey began, Salem stared at the shape of the Grand Babel from one of her windows as the distance grew greater and greater. There were no deeply buried feelings involved, only spite!
None. At. All!
X~ = = = = = = = = = = = ~X
-Author's Notes-
A look into a perspective outside of our 'Hero' group would naturally belong of the 'Villain' group. It just makes sense, don't it? While our Protagonists continue their travels, so will our Antagonist advance their nebulous plans. We'll keep peeking at them from time to time, usually at the end of arcs.
Salem the Witch, Solid Six of the mysterious group called The Billiards is first on the block. And she has absolutely nothing to be in denial about, no sirree! But her perspective does shed some light into what exactly this organization is about, at least in part.
The name of that group actually cropped up a total of twice in The Chronicler as a part of a more far reaching idea that never reached its full potential. In that continuity all but one(Eight-Ball) of their members were either jailed or executed. Not so much here! In fact, seems like they've yet to be fully formed...
And here's also me just anti-climaxing a part of my own mystery by just revealing exactly what "Cain Abel" was a part of before the whole amnesia business. Because I can, and this story isn't as much about Mystery as I pretend it is. Besides, it's not like this answers all the questions that still remain.
Also, I wrote Babalon, the most aggressively Bri'ish character I could muster. She's the first of the "Super Stars", rising outlaws who have the makings to be one of the Supernova but aren't quite there yet, who The Billiards are scouting. And Salem is right: Babalon's bounty is suspiciously low for the scope of what she's reportedly done. Curious.
Next chapter we return to out angry crossdresser and dumb tiger girl, promise.
…
But to end this off- just because why not -have some Trivia!
–
[Salem] – The titular Witch. Her name references the infamous Salem witch trials. Her green skin is in reference to the Wicked Witch of the West from the 1939 The Wizard of Oz movie, and her iron teeth and nails are derived to the Slavic folk legend Baba Yaga, who shares these traits. Her powers are part Devil Fruit nonsense, part actual magic. Her Bounty of 300,400,000 Berry is in reference to the 'Witching Hour' a period of time between 3:00am and 4:00am, which has supernaturalconnotations.
[Deadfellows] – The name for Salem's skeletal servants. A reference to the term Goodfellows, which is used to refer to the more benevolent fairies or the fey in general.
[The Dancing Bone Palace] – Inspired by the chicken-legged house of the hag Baba Yaga. The name is in reference to The Dancing Hut of Baba Yaga, the eponymous legendary magic artifact from the tabletop game Dungeons & Dragons.
[The Boneyard] – A collective term that encompasses all the numerous bones that Salem is almost never without. They make up a form of portable army that the Witch can call upon at any moment, adding her defeated foes to their ranks. Boneyard is an old word for a cemetery or a large collection of corpses, making the name apt.
[The Billiards] – A criminal group operating from somewhere in the Grand Line. Lead by their mysterious Boss and composed of the elite Solids(0-8) and the Stripes(9-15) who are scouted and recruited. As of this chapter the positions of Solids Two and Five remain unfilled, and only two Stripe positions(Fourteen, Fifteen) are. Solid One is currently imprisoned within Impel Down. "Cain Abel's" past identity was that of Solid Zero. Their theme is based on the billiards game, with the core members given code names after billiard balls.
[Babylon's Fallen] – Often just called The Fallen. An anarchistic pseudo-criminal group styled after punk rock, loyal to their leader, Babalon. Their name and home kingdom of origin is a clear reference to the ancient Mesopotamian city of Babylon. Their symbol is a seven pointed heptagram with a skull with a sharp-toothed grin within it.
[Babalon] – The Leader/Main Lead/Vocalist/Guitarist of the Fallen. Also known as The Scarlet Woman, the Great Mother, or the Mother of Abominations, Babalon is the name of an occult goddess who is also closely associated with the biblical Whore of Babylon. Her Bounty of 77,000,000 Berry refers to the Seal of Babalon, which is a heptagram, a seven-pointed star.
[Barbelo] – The name of Babalon's First-Mate, and Bassist. Their name is in reference to an entity in Gnostic cosmogony, also called the 'Mother-Father' due being a largely androgynous being. Has the Epithet "Sea Punk" and a Bounty of 33,000,000 Berry.
[Crowley] – The name of Babalon's Cartographer, Navigator, and Second-Mate. He also plays the drums. Named after Aleister Crowley, an English author and occultist whose works featured Babalon prominently. His Epithet is "The Occult" and his Bounty is 15,930,000 Berry, which is a reference to significant numbers from Thelema, an occult movement that Crowley started.
[Therion] – The offhandedly mentioned and ill defined pet of Babalon's. A deity from Aleister Crowley's works, which is somewhat associated with "The Beast" from the Book of Revelation. On an unrelated note, she has a Bounty of 666,000 Berry, in reference to the Number of the Beast.
[Sefirot] – Or "Seffy". The young girl who is the Head Chef of the Fallen with a penchant for spices. She also plays the accompaniment. Her name is in reference to the Tree of Life from the Kabbalah. Has the Epithet "Spice Girl" and a bounty of 10,000,000 Berry, a reference to the 10(technically 11) 'emanations' that form the Sefirot.
[The Grand Babel] – The large galleon/warship of the Fallen, and also the name for the now destroyed royal palace/great tower of the Babylonia Kingdom. A reference to the biblical Tower of Babel, which God brought down as punishment for Mankind's arrogance. It also has a stage on its deck for performances.
