Chapter XIV: The Super Franky Building Co!

The warehouse was not oversized. It was gigantic to be sure, but each and every place Jaune looked was filled with workers running around projects. On each of them was a weird looking uniform: a sleek, black, egg-shaped set of overalls paired with purple gloves and goggles. Dancing around the room, sparks flew choreographed with the slower movement of larger parts. While he looked over the various works, a single thought entered Jaune's head: they all look like boats.

Before long, Franky led them into a room near one of the distant corners. Walls were lined with shelves, metal frames with boards layered within. They were littered with scattered papers and wells of ink; half the wells held an ink pen sticking out. In the center of the room was a desk — or, it was something Jaune could only assume was a desk. It was more alike to a small, box-like rowboat with a board on top than it was any form of furniture. To add to the sight, on the far corner of its surface was a lamp; the body was formed by a boat-esque structure and the shade by coiled sails.

"I'd tell you all to have a seat, but I don't really have the space." Franky gestured across his desk showing that there were only two seats. Before Jaune could properly protest, his crew had decided that it was necessary for the captain to sit. The other seat was taken by Neo who had no desire to stand for too long.

Franky pulled the plans back out and started scrawling some sort of list onto a blank parchment. There was something that could be said about the sight of a punk like man carefully writing with an ink pen.

"I'm not complaining," Jaune tested the waters. "But are you really going to do this for free?" Seemingly amused by his nervousness, Franky smirked a bit while he flipped the first page over.

Another page was flipped before he answered. "If I'm honest with you, I've been trying to find my thing for a while. See, a few islands over is a company named Galley-La; they're known as the best shipwrights on the Grand Line. As for me, if it wasn't obvious, that's what I've always grown up building: ships." He paused, shooting Jaune a knowing look. "Like you, I also don't want to draw too much attention to myself. So, in order for me to be in that business either Galley-La steals all the customers, or I put myself in the limelight by competing with them. It's lose-lose."

Mutual destruction, then. They didn't want the marines after them, and evidently Franky didn't either. "We'll keep quiet if you do too," Jaune offered.

"Yeah, yeah. I thought that was a given." Franky shrugged his shoulders. Briefly, Jaune wondered how the thin, by comparison, biceps could so easily move those massive fore-arms. "The point is, I've been struggling to give up being a shipwright; damn near everything I build ends up a boat. Now this? This is exciting and it gives me something to try. Normally, I'd have to pay to get prints like these. We'll cover the materials necessary. There's this scrapyard over on the coast kept out of view of the train station. While it's mostly junk, the Super Franky Building Co is pretty damn good at recycling. The only thing I have to really ask is if you have any land we can build this on?"

A silent conversation passed between them. Neo, being native to the tongue, was the most verbose. Seeing their answer already, Franky waved his hand. "I have someone I can talk to about it. I'll contact you if anything goes wrong; here."

Franky reached under the desk and produced a transponder snail for them. As they left the warehouse, they were glad that their scrolls would be working soon. The snail was not very appreciated.

"I guess we'll spend our time around here," Jaune mentioned as they headed back to the train station. "Being on land will give me some actual time to get used to my devil fruit."

"Not to mention we don't want to leave the islands behind yet," Blake agreed. "I don't know how possible it would be to get back here."

"We'll head to The Bucket and wait for Franky to contact us," decided Jaune. With no more objections, they continued on.

Back in the warehouse, a quick phone call was made. In response to the chipper and bubbly voice that answered, Franky only asked a single question. "You wanted to know if I was building anything cool, right?"

"Thank you everyone for coming here. I know it's difficult, and I'm proud of all of you for being so brave. Now, if you are willing, let's get into a circle. We'll go around, introduce ourselves, and say why we're here."

The room was designed to be as comforting as possible. Motivational posters were placed on the walls. Yatsuhashi's favorite was the one of a kitten on a branch that said 'hang in there.' He said as much while making small talk with the two Mistralian students they had just met. When Sage asked the other Valean student which one he liked, Fox pointed to the wall. There was nothing there.

Taiyang cleared his throat. It pained him to stop the bonding, but they had met for a reason. "I'll go first. Hi, I'm Taiyang."

"Hi, Taiyang," the group echoed.

"Oh, and this is Zwei. I'm a single father of two daughters. In the recent events, my younger daughter abandoned me to commit piracy against a foreign government, all influenced by my brother in law. My other daughter was quickly after recruited into a foreign military in order to bring back my first daughter." He grew a bit quieter. "It just feels at this point that I don't have anyone but Zwei left."

He received a light applause and encouraging words from the others. The attention moved on. "Hi, I'm Dr. Oobleck." Once again, the crowd echoed the greeting. "My colleagues and superiors abandoned me to be left the sole authority in the academy that I teach in. In order to compensate, I have felt forced to develop a healthy, severe caffeine addiction." Encouragement followed soon after.

The pattern continued with each of the other members. Yatsuhashi said, "My two teammates left together, or rather one right after the other. One of them committing treason in the name of fashion and the other to supervise her. I feel somewhat lost without my friends, and without my leader." Fox gave them a similar story, but that did not dampen the response he received either. Both Valean students were adequately showered with support.

"Hi, I'm Scarlet," the next boy introduced. After waiting for the chorus greeting he said, "At first we thought our teammates were just headed to vale, but then we were told they were going to the Grand Line. We didn't even know where that was until days after we were first told. I dunno, I guess it just feels almost like we were an afterthought."

Then they carried on to Sage. "Basically what Scarlet said. To me, it just almost feels like I'm a side character. Was I put on this team just because my name starts with an 'S,' so we could be team SSSN?"

"Don't think like that, man. There had to be others with names like that, and any that started with an 'N' too. You weren't picked for just your name, man." Now that everyone had their turn, the session evolved into conversation. Anecdotes led to advice, and soon the heavy air lightened just a bit. Zwei was having the best time of anyone there. Nothing could beat having so many new faces to pet him.

The amber liquid in the glass swirled as Ironwood set it down onto his desk. "What?" Elm looked at him with concern in her eyes. The remnants of the Ace Ops had been discussing how to bring the issue to their leader. While most would see this as intimidating, most of their effort went into making sure the general took it well.

"With all due respect sir, this needs to stop." Her point was clear, and Ironwood understood it easily. "It is unhealthy and rumors are beginning to spread. You were seen blatantly carrying three bottles of whiskey to your office: what are we supposed to tell people?"

"That it's none of their business," Ironwood groaned.

Elm held her gaze for a long time, but the general did not raise his head. "Sir, what happened to the great leader who could lead us through anything? There was a time when I would have followed him into hell itself, but I'm not sure I see him anymore."

Ironwood reached for the bottle, but his hand hesitated. "Ozpin left him with more than he could carry, and those that helped him skirted their duties."

Carefully, Elm took the bottle off his desk. "We know, sir. It's been difficult for all of us to cover the work, but it's been the worst for you." A mug replaced the bottle, a steaming, brown liquid inside. "However, this is not an acceptable way to cope with it. I realize it's not the same, but maybe try this."

Gingerly, Ironwood brought the mug closer to him. The sweet, rich aroma surrounded him like a gentle embrace. For a moment, he was young again, holding a cup of Atlesian hot cocoa that his grandmother had made for him. The scent alone sobered him.

Elm watched with a smile and sighed with relief. There had been talk amongst the council for letting him go. It was supposed to be kept low and only between them, but people talked, and the Ace Ops of all people listened. Seeing him like this gave her hope, a sign that the man who once led her was still there. She would be telling the others soon enough, but they didn't need to know about the tears currently running down his face.

Usopp ran through the halls, hurrying to get to his next destination. Man, following in his old man's footsteps was harder than he thought. Training and fighting had been a given, as one would expect when their aspiration was to be a warrior. His childhood had been spent pushing himself to and past his limits each and every day. Those odd times his father had been home were always the best; some of his best memories involved showing off his progress. He even kept his old slingshot, the one now at his side, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. On his fifth birthday, his father had given it to him: a symbol that the greatest sniper in the world knew his son wanted to be like him. As years began to pass, his father would laugh and ask if he wanted to upgrade to an actual gun. He never did, since it became a physical promise to himself — a promise to one day best Yasopp.

Of his many, many skills, he had honed those of a sniper. Accuracy, senses, reading movement, and analyzing weak spots had not all come to him naturally, but he worked hard for them. Nowhere had he trained his stamina to meet what he currently needed. From place to place across the campus, he was sprinting nearly every moment of every day at this point. As he reached the next fountain, he was panting and drenched in sweat. It was a good thing that his morning job was to check if the former water fountains were properly fulfilling their new job: he needed the energy.

As he pressed down the button, sweet, sweet coffee graced his lips. There wasn't enough for him to forget his legs were burning, but it would carry him on. He had to give it to his old man, the life of a huntsman was tough. Deep down he knew this was probably not what being a huntsman was really like, yet the stories he grew up on already made his mind run wild with wonder. Even now, he could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of him. It was a gut feeling that something big was waiting for him just over the horizon. Then again, that may have been the buzz from the caffeine.

His feet carried him through his morning task, letting him mark that all one-thousand-two-hundred-and-thirty-five coffee fountains were in working order. Next he was off to check each classroom. Thus was the main reason the weight of this role was placed upon his shoulders. His admittance to Beacon was not entirely as a student. The official term they used in his documents was 'TA.' Ozpin was well acquainted with his father's team and had been looking forward to Usopp's attendance. The big issue was that his father had been out on a mission during the start of the academic year, and his mother had fallen sick. He stayed home to take care of her until his father returned home, but by then the time to enter Beacon had passed. That was when headmaster Ozpin offered him this chance. As a TA, he could watch his peers and be tutored by his professors while not needing to be on a team.

When Ozpin was forced to leave and Oobleck had to take over, he placed much faith in Usopp. Part of that was what took the majority of his day: gathering homework and taking attendance. As not officially a student, Usopp's classwork followed a different schedule, so it did not entirely inhibit him to be absent from classes like this. On the other hand, it did mean that most days he ran on little sleep. A quick habit was forming that started each day with a thermos of espresso.

The students were becoming more and more accommodating to him for each passing day. In the beginning of it, he received complaints and was often the butt of jokes. It was never every classroom, but if each class had a clown and he had to go through so many, it was bound to happen. It might have been them growing more serious, needing to focus on their now rapid lectures, or sympathy from seeing the bags under his eyes, but something had changed. Every list of names was greeted by a series of 'here's, and it grew in efficiency with each passing day.

He used to wonder what his life as a huntsman would be like, but those thoughts were beginning to be replaced by another query. With the changes Beacon was making, what would the future of huntsmen look like? Usopp didn't know, but he knew one thing for sure: Dr. Oobleck trusted him, and he wasn't going to let him down.

"Really? Oh, finally!" Nora laid on her cot, propped on her elbows and kicking her legs. She had gotten a transponder snail from who knows where and was talking to someone on the other end of the call. Yang watched as Nora twirled the cord to the receiver around her finger and wondered just what the call was about. Normally, these calls were easy to eavesdrop on. She had seen responder snails all around the ship by now, and their usual function involved being permanently on speaker mode. One way or another, Nora had, quote, convinced it to whisper to her instead, end quote.

That being said, Yang was fairly positive Nora wouldn't have a good track record with secrets. "Yo, Nora, who are you talking to?"

The girl had the gall to shush her. "Be quiet, Yang. I'm on a very important business call." Ah, yes, how could she forget? "Anyways, what have you got for me? Uh huh, yeah? So, no puppies? What about the pancakes? Yes, I understand that unfortunately the pancake puppies are off the table, but could you still include the pancakes? Yes, I see. I work all hours, every day of the week, but I should be available in between then."

Yang sighed, throwing her face into her own pillow. Listening to Nora be Nora should have been enough entertainment, but it was starting to become normal. Gods help her, Nora was becoming normal to her. Pyrrha was off in some instructional course meant to help her with the newfound responsibility of being the leader of an active team. She had so many plans that involved getting her to do girly things and seeing how she reacted. Watching the Pyrrha Nikos paint her nails for the first time like a schoolgirl slumber party could have entertained her for hours. Instead, her leader was off being responsible.

Her other option of Weiss was off the table too. The smaller girl was scribbling like mad. On her desk was, in Yang terms, some sort of manifesto to Winter Schnee that might as well be labeled 'Why Whitley Schnee Sucks.' Of course, Weiss had only said it was her informing her sister of what was going on. And now, of all people, Nora was on 'business calls.'

She had nothing to do, and she was pissed about it. Maybe she could teach herself solitaire or something. She watched Qrow play it once, but his version was probably not close to the original. Cursing each time you flipped over a card likely wasn't in the rules.

Emerald slopped onto the beach like a zombie. Her green hair was slicked down resembling a mess of algae. Cinder and Torchwick stared dumbfoundedly at the sight while Mercury waited to see if it was okay to laugh. Regaining her senses, Cinder asked where she had been. A single finger brushed her hair to the side like a curtain.

"Under," she replied. Cinder, who didn't understand, asked her to explain. Emerald pointed at their boat. "I was under." Well, that was a thing. Cinder beckoned them to follow as they searched for some place to have their meeting. At this point, she would take anything away from the town. Gone was the care of covering her tracks, for it was now unnecessary. She could likely tell these hooligans she was going to commit murder but wasn't a pirate, and they would let her go.

Now, without a ship or a crew, they had to start from scratch once more. That was fine — more than fine. She had already faced devastating failure at the start of this endeavor, and she hadn't let that hold her back. No, her power was worth the effort in the end. It was only a matter of making those that inconvenienced her suffer in the end.

On the eastern side of the island was a small bay shrouded by tropical trees. Mercury sat on a rock, Torchwick and Emerald on a log, and Cinder stood. After a brief moment of Emerald pursuing sunlight to shine on her soaked body, Cinder had enough and started a fire. To say she lit it would be a disservice, as she had kicked together a pile of driftwood and promptly combusted it. Once set up, she began with her usual antics. If her minions noticed how strained she was, they smartly said nothing.

After rambling through her various disappointments and vows for vengeance, she addressed the main point. "Is there any faster way to track someone on this sea, or are we forced to ask another ship for their cooperation?" Her eyes bore down onto Mercury, as he was the one to supposedly know. Yet, an answer she did not receive; at least, it did not come at first. He stayed silent long enough for her to pace about mulling over what it would take for them to redo their actions. They had picked the previous crew specifically due to how easily frightened their captain seemed to be.

By the time she was formulating the necessary steps needed, Mercury finally spoke up. "The marines were talking about a train that connected a few of the islands. We could go there, figure out what path they're taking, and eventually intercept them."

Cinder took a moment to switch her train of thought. "I believe you have skipped a step or two, Mercury. How are we supposed to find their path and how does that relate to a train between islands?"

"Well, there's only a certain amount of paths someone can take on the Grand Line," explained Mercury. "They're set in stone, so if we can find which one they're taking, we can know where they are. We can use the train to go between the paths."

"And how, praytell, would we find their path?"

"With a log pose." The statement fell out matter-of-factly. Looking at Cinder's flat look, Mercury decided it was best for his health to continue. He gave a quick summary of the navigational tools, focussing on how they lock onto each island to create the main form of navigating the sea.

By the end, Cinder was pinching the bridge of her nose. "We've been traveling for how long, and you've only mentioned this now?"

"I didn't think we would be sailing that far." After picking him with a few more questions, Cinder decided their course of action. Steal a log pose here as well as a boat, sail to those islands connected by a train, find reports on Jaune Arc's movement, then steal another log pose linked to that path.

Her heel fell on the pitiful fire they surrounded, crushing the charred logs to ash. "We cannot and will not waste any more time here. Torchwick, fetch us a boat; Mercury, find one of those log poses; and Emerald — pull yourself together."

Jaune laid on his back, panting and blocking the sun with his hand. Who knew that swimming could be so much work? His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst any second. His drill sergeant and personal demon, Cardin, just laughed at him. It would feel demeaning if it wasn't for the kinder, albeit no less cruel, smirk the boy gave him. After letting him catch his breath, Cardin gripped his shoulder and pulled him up, thrusting a water bottle into his hands at the same time. It was gone in seconds.

"You've got the foundation for this," said Cardin, dropping next to him. "Right now, your biggest issue is yourself. Hey, don't give me that look!" Jaune had been glaring at him. "I'm not saying you're the problem or any of that shit; I'm saying you're your own hurdle right now. This isn't about technique, reflexes, or anything remotely close to skills: it's between your body and your mind. Sure, conditioning is important, and Ren will take care of that. I don't want to know what sort of weird health potions he has in mind." Cardin grimaced just at the thought.

"Anyways," he went on. "You need to train your mind as much as your body. Knowing when you can keep going, but also when you can't. Being able to push yourself when there's more left in you, but not becoming obsessed and taking it too far. Your mind will work against you, Arc, and not just in the way you would think. Until you can set that little voice in your head on track, it'll be hell. Don't get me wrong, it will still feel like hell afterwards, but it won't be it."

The last part Jaune kind of understood, but it mostly lost him. There was little time to ponder it as Cardin switched gears. "So, I need your opinion." He pulled out a mace from his bag, one that was haphazardly tied to another with rope. "Does this look cannonball-sturdy to you?" It was now that Jaune realized with his exhausted legs, he was a captive audience. Ruby was training with Neo, something that surprised Jaune at first. Ren was watching the ship, so he also couldn't save him. Luckily, Jaune found Blake's eyes and pleaded to her silently. She took one glance at the contraption in Cardin's hands and returned to her book.

AN:

Hey, another chapter out. I've been taking it a bit slower since it's getting closer to everything I have written, and I've been a bit tired from work. That being said, I'll try and get this all caught up before next Monday.

I thought weekends would be the best for me to update on since I work weekdays, but that's been proven false. Evidently, since my friends know that, everything gets planned for then. Who would have guessed?

Well, Usopp's been introduced, and Yasopp is a huntsman who is home far more often than anime Yasopp. Banchina being sick is a parallel to what happens to her in One Piece, but I had her survive here. I'm not too sure why, I'm sure there's arguments on both sides of whether or not the changes would lead to her survival, but that was just what I decided in the end. You can also go back and see that the student that warned Oobleck that the coffee ran out had an unusual nose.

The support group was an idea that I found hilarious. All of their lives have been impacted by someone exposed to the Grand Line. More will be joining it in the future, some will leave.

Anyways, next chapter: Construction