Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
This Bites! (One Piece SI)
- Thread starter Xomniac
- Start date
Sir Plusse
Overly Vicious Quester
- Location
- Kansas
My bet is that she just took every kind of fruit she could with her when she went to kill the hag. I mean, you don't need specifics when you've got one of everything, right? All you need to do is kill the target and then sort through your basket to find which fruit got their power.
Hell, it's apparently a common enough practice to have a nickname.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
Yeah, the implication I got was that the 'Funeral Bouquet' is a basket with one of every kind of fruit which canny Devil Fruit users\pirates 'in the know' about how Devil Fruit work keep around in case of the death of a Devil Fruit user.
Last edited:
- Location
- Indiana, USA
I thought the story called it a 'Funeral Bouquet'.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
You are correct. I probably should have checked the name before posting.
The Halloween Holiday Not-So-Horrorshow!
Xomniac
Clockwork Purveyor of Prose and Originality
Patient AN: An update to our fans: this story is now rated M. Not because of anything in this chapter or anything we have planned; it's long overdue with our use of coarse language and the level of violence we portray. And with that out of the way…
"This story takes place between dream and reality, on a night where the line between the two blurs and opens the way for some things to slip through. Here you have Mister Jeremiah Cross, one more familiar with that concept than most, yet who never seems to learn from—"
THWACK!
"—ow!" Robin yelped as a passing Cross dope-slapped her. She looked at him, trying to appear properly annoyed. "You know, it's less of a costume and more of a generic suit if you don't let me monologue like that."
"I am the last person who wants to dive deeper into The Twilight Zone, Robin. And for the record, no more using Soundbite to listen to the boobtube without supervision."
"AWWW, but I was just about to introduce her to 'WELCOME TO NIGHTVALE!'"
"And in what unholy dimension is that an argument to let you continue?"
The snail, less mobile than usual due to the spider-shaped onesie he was wearing, stuck out his tongue at the tattered zombie carrying him as he went back to putting up more spiderwebs.
"I'll take her haunting our nightmares for the next year if it means more material like this," Boss remarked, flexing in his blood-red martial arts gi, prompting the stiff rat tail that went with the costume to bob in the air.
"You do realize that what you're wearing is from something completely parallel to the horror genre, right?"
"Of course!" Boss declared, looking over his left shoulder to answer Cross while ignoring the facepalm. "But a good idea's a good idea."
"I find it interesting myself…though the correlation is bothersome."
With a small sigh, Chopper moved over beside he skeleton on deck, his suit redecorated in a pinstripe style with a bat bowtie.
"Brook, the nightmares are behind you. This is just another party for us, it's all in good fun," he said gently… before his expression flattened. "Why else do you think I'm putting up with the idea to dress up as 'Emergency Food Supplies?'"
"And what do you have to complain about?" Leo snarked. "You're the dessert course, meaning that the only one who could make a mistake and eat you is you, 'Chocolate Moose'."
"I'M A REINDEER, NOT A MOOSE!" the other three Dugongs shouted before Chopper could, leaving the dark-brown ungulate to grumble to himself.
"Yohohoho…" Brook chuckled, his spirits lifted. "Well, then… how close are we to being ready?"
"Usopp and Franky have got the heavy-duty decorations going on, we've got the rest by now," Mikey called from the air, where he was working his tail off to hang veneers to make the Sunny pass as a ghost ship. Sausage-shaped chains clattered with every kick of his tail.
"Everyone is in their costumes or getting dressed, aside from Rip Van Winkle over there," Leo said, pointing the needle-nose of his costume at the sleeping swordsman by the mast.
"Sanji and Conis are—oh, looks like they're ready!" Raphey said as the pavilion's walls sank down to reveal a small buffet of macabre treats: punch with hand-shaped ice cubes and fruit arranged like eyeballs; meatloaf and ketchup arranged to look like severed feet; spider-shaped sushi cuts on mayonnaise webs…
"Not often I get to put this much effort into the decorations instead of the taste," Sanji stated, scratching at the whiskers painted on his cheeks. "And for the record, I still say I should have gone with Prince Charming."
"And I'd rather be Rudolph than risk Luffy drooling over me any more, but I still chose a costume that was halfway clever, so suck it up!" Chopper retorted, before frowning even further as he felt a wet dripping on his shoulder. "And speaking of which…"
The human-reindeer swiftly palmed (or at least hoofed) a green vial and spun around, ramming it into the mouth of the Monkey (who was looking much more monkey-like than usual) who'd been looming over him.
"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT MADE OF CHOCOLATE, LUFFY!"
"MMRPH!? MMMMPH…Mmmm."
Luffy struggled briefly with whatever Chopper had shoved into his jaws before relaxing with a content look on his face. Chopper nodded firmly in satisfaction, turning back to the cook.
"Hey, Sanji, good news! That ooze-syrup you wanted is ready now!"
"Good!" The chef shot him a thumbs-up before returning to his spread, a hand fiddling with one of the mouse-ears stapled to his toque. "I just hope it tastes as good as it sticks…"
"No worries, San—er, 'Master'!" Conis demurred, curtsying and spreading her skirt daintily. "You're simply the best cook in all the seas, I'm certain it will taste delicious! Miss Conis believes in you!" The gunner maintained the curtsy for a moment before looking up with an expectant grin. "How was that? Am I pulling this off right?"
"HNNNNG!"
"Oh no, Sanji!"
Su, looking a lot more white than normal, leapt up onto one of Sanji's paralyzed and twitching legs, leering down at the stricken chef clutching his heart. "Looks like you're doing just good enough, Conis! Good thing it's not totally perfect, otherwise, he'd be pulling off my look even better than me, Tseeheehee—whoops!" Su's headband slipped down over her eyes, prompting an annoyed bark. "Tch, darn thing, not staying on right… Conis, if you wouldn't mind—?"
"Here you go, Su," Conis offered kindly, re-straightening her fox's headband. "By the way, interesting costume. I don't recognize it, though?"
"Eh, it's based on what people in Wano apparently think ghosts look like," the fox snickered as she waved her paws and tail in a spooooky gesture. "Been reading a lot of books about the place, thought it looked fun! But I should've gotten this thing fitted better."
"٩(θ‿θ)۶!"
"Huh?" Su looked up.
"SEEMS like our paparazzo disagrees," Soundbite crowed, baring his 'fangs' with a cackle. "Which is saying something, since she just came back from snapping pics of NAMI helping Vivi metaphorically and literally WRAP UP."
"WHERE!?" CLANG!
"You'll thank me for that later," Raphey drawled, one hand holding an apple she'd been sucking on and the other replacing the saucepan she'd just clobbered Sanji with. A moment later, as Gif finished with Su and Conis, Raphey returned the fruit to her mouth and did the best she could to look photogenic.
As photogenic as she could look while cosplaying as a roast boar, anyway.
"Pft!" Donny snickered, leaning close to his brother, leafage rustling. "Now there's a costume that works for a lot of reasons! Ha!"
The Fish and Salad courses devolved into unsubtle snickering, Cross rolling his eyes. "And karma in three, two…"
"WHO WANTS TO ROAST FIRST, FUNNY GUYS!?"
"ARGH!"
"Touchdown, we have touchdown," the tactician chuckled as he watched the Main Course chase the sides with her own 'spit'.
"Alright, a little help with our decoratio—WHAGH?!"
And Usopp's entrance got delayed by the chase running past him, spinning him around in place, and sending some of the decorations in his arms flying.
"HEEHEEHEEhoohoohoo… haahhh," Soundbite trailed off, glancing all 'eight' of his eyes upward. "Y'KNOW, this'll be a great party and all, BUT I'M KINDA MISSING OUT ON THE TRICK-OR-TREATING PART. WALKING ARMCHAIR OR NO, IT'D HAVE BEEN A HECK OF A LOT OF FUN!"
"I know what you mean," Mikey said, carefully swimming down to the deck before plopping on his back and reclining on his shell. "Too small a sample size for any good pranks that we haven't used up in the last few months, and not even I'm stupid enough to mess with Sanji's food… anymore. I mean, this'll be fun, but—!"
"You'll get both, no need to pick: have a treat and have a trick!"
"WOAH!"/ "HOLY MACKEREL!"/"SONNUVA—!"
The entire crew jumped in shock, fully unprepared for the spooooky voice that suddenly drifted out of the grinning maw of one of the jack-o-lanterns, carved out to look like a grinning witch.
And the frights weren't finished. The voice picked up once more, this time from a new source.
"You can bat that you'll have a fangtastic night," said a lavender-colored bat decoration.
"No bones about it, this'll be a special Halloween," cackled Brook—no, a decorative skeleton with a fake afro that was dressed in Brook's old suit.
The crew blinked and were about to shrug off the animated decorations—
"EVERYTHING'S TALKING!"
Until that voice spoke up and everyone double-took. Cross ran a hand down his face at the sight of a South Bird perched on the pavilion.
"Why and how are you here?"
"WHAT KIND OF WELCOME IS THAT!?" Terry roared.
"What's with all the yelling?" Franky asked, emerging with some difficulty in his costume. He blinked at the flickering lights and laughing decorations. Then he grinned.
"Now, this is some SUPER! Halloween decorations!" he declared, posing. "Nice job on the voiceovers, Soundbite!"
"…what."
The laughter slowly subsided as Soundbite looked at Franky, smiling too widely.
"Y-y-you're joking, r-right? 'Cause this ain't ME."
And with that a lead weight settled in everyone's stomachs.
"Uhhh… if it wasn't either of you, and it wasn't Usopp, and it wasn't any of us…" Donny said, looking around pleadingly. Terror slowly spread over his features when nobody—not Robin, not his siblings, not even Luffy—spoke up. His line of question died in a whimper as they looked back at the decorations.
And found them all smiling to put Cross to shame.
"All in good fun. Now… mind the DRO~OOOP!"
"NONONONONONONO—!"
The chorus ran from almost the entire crew. Several even twitched toward the edge of the ship, as if to jump overboard. But halfway between petrified and resigned, Cross snapped his fingers before Soundbite's face.
"Attention, passengers. You-know-who has decided to screw around with us, meaning that in a matter of seconds, we will plunge—ship and all—into a bottomless pit. Please make sure to scream at the top of your lungs as we fall, so that it is properly amused and doesn't decide to pull something even worse." The already-pale tactician whimpered miserably as he clung to the rigging for dear life. "I know I will…"
Everything froze, leaving it plain to see when Sunny's jaw dropped in horrified shock - right as the ocean beneath them vanished into a black abyss.
"Thank you and good night," Soundbite whimpered through a broken smile.
And that was apparently gravity's cue.
"AAAAAAAAGH!"
…clay. Yes, that was definitely what it felt like beneath Cross as he stirred awake. That was nice and normal! Though he could also sense that something was wrong.
Well, besides feeling like he had all just fallen off the top of a multi-story tower. Again. And didn't it just say it all when he knew how that felt?
"Arrrrrgh…" Cross groaned, his eyes slowly cracking open. "You know, I don't think it hurt so much last time… huh?"
Cross blinked and tried to sit up, but his muscles seemed oddly unresponsive. Or backward, rather. He pushed away the feeling of dread bubbling up and blinked a few times. His hands rubbed carefully on the surface he was laying on while he confirmed that he was, in fact, looking up at the ship's mast.
"…Franky? Bad news: I think that fall tore off Sunny's lawn."
There was no immediate response. And considering how at least three of the crew would go berserk at any harm to Sunny while at least five others would be angry about damage to the lawn, that was the opposite of reassuring.
"And… we're scattered again, perfect. Alright, who've we got here?" Cross asked, struggling again to sit up—and then feeling several arms pressing up against his front, lifting him off the ground.
"Just Brook and myself, I think, and he's below deck," came Robin's voice. "And I would suggest you hold still. It's a mercy that you're somehow alive with a broken neck, but let me fix it."
"Broken ne—CK!" Cross choked, his senses catching up to him. Robin's arms, sprouting from the ground, were lifting him up by his chest and stomach, while his head was facing up.
"Not moving a muscle, right," he squeaked. "What about you?"
"I believe that I'm bruised black and blue from that fall, but it's a bit hard to tell at the moment."
Robin stepped into view, and Cross blinked several times. But no, he hadn't gone selectively colorblind, his sister had just turned monochromatic. And from there, his mind slowly connected the pieces.
"…welp. Everybody's gonna recognize you as Rod Sterling just fine now," he snarked.
"Yes yes, we've all turned into our costumes, very humorous and potentially dangerous, I'm well aware," Robin scoffed, firmly taking ahold of his head. "Now hold still, I don't want to hurt you any more than you already are."
And with that, she gave his cranium a sharp twist—!
CRACK!
And then froze up quite abruptly when Cross's head snapped off his neck and hung loosely in her hands.
There hung Jeremiah Cross's decapitated head, lifeless, forelorn, all words fled from his mortal coil!
…at least until he blinked in surprise, shooting a hesitant smirk at his beheader. "Robin, not that I'm one to complain, heaven forbid, but, ah, your bedside manner? I think it could use some work. Just a bit is all, you know?"
Robin's eye twitched viciously, a dark, eldritch realization occuring to her. "Your costume was a zombie, wasn't it?" And with that deduction, she tossed his head away.
Or at least, tossed it into the waiting hands of his own body, which had abruptly sat up and grabbed his cranium midflight. "Woo, headtrip!" Cross snickered as he rammed his head back onto his own neck, jerking it right and left to fit back into place. "And hey now, that's racist! We prefer 'living impaired'!…I assume!"
Robin, perhaps the sanest of the Straw Hats and perfectly aware of the scope of their potential problems in the situation, nonetheless had to fight very, very hard not to smile at the wisecrack and imagery.
"Well, if we're not in any immediate danger, let me see where we are and hope that you recognize it. Also, I believe that this came from you-know-who," she said calmly, flicking a folded piece of paper and (likely intentionally) lodging it in Cross's hand.
Cross shook out the paper and read, "'Enjoy the night while it lasts.'" Scoffing and tossing it away, he said, "Well, that confirms that all of this is temporary, everything'll be back to normal soon enough. Thank goodness for that."
His thought of feeling clay beneath him was accurate. However they got wherever they were, the Sunny had taken on his own ghostly costume as they came down. The previously verdant green deck was now mostly barren. Tufts of green grass grew here and there, but spiderwebs and unmarked headstones and crosses adorned the otherwise barren soil. Only Nami's tangerine trees seemed untouched.
"So, what've we got?" he asked, approaching the railing where Robin was already scanning the area outside of the ship, her arms crossed and her eyes closed.
"…the Sunny is atop an odd hill in the middle of a graveyard. A forest is to one side while a town appears to be in the other direction. Everything appears to be thematically dark, crooked, and ominous."
Cross took one sweeping look around, and his eyes widened in realization at the very large moon on the horizon.
"Robin, the 'odd hill' wouldn't happen to be spiral-shaped, would it?"
"Then you do know where we are," Robin confirmed, giving him a serious look. "So, brother dearest, what are we in for? Murderous cannibals? Serial killers abounding? Eldritch horrors from beyond the Nth dimension, here to devour our brains? Which is to say, my brains and simply starve when they come to you?"
"Hilarious. And, honestly? For once, we're in the clear. And I mean that."
"Come again?"
"Nico Robin, allow me to welcome you to Halloween Town! As in, an entire town, if not a plane of existence, dedicated entirely and solely to the holiday of Halloween! Inhabited by each and every ghoul, ghast, and other grim and spooky monstrosity you can imagine. Halloween is actually a pretty nice town."
"You just said it was inhabited by monsters!"
"Who all love the holiday of Halloween for the thrills and chills it brings once a year! And besides, look at us! Neither of us is exactly human anymore!"
"That you aren't, my friends!"
"WAGH!"
And Cross nearly lost his head again as a pinstripe-suited skeleton popped up in front of them, grinning fit to pop his mandibles.
"Geez, Brook, speak up a little sooner next time," Cross huffed. "Though man, that costume is really appropriate, especially given where we—!"
"Ah, Cross?"
Feeling a tug on his sleeve, Cross gave Robin a confused look, before following her finger what she was pointing at. Which seemed to be the space above 'Brook's head… which was currently… afro-less…
The second those pieces slotted together, aided by 'Brook's bony grin growing all the wider, Cross immediately swung down in an exaggerated bow.
"Jack Skellington, thrilled to make your acquaintance, my good ghoul! I'm Jeremiah Cross, Straw Hat Pirate—"
"And Voice of Anarchy, yes yes, so I've heard! Thrilled to meet you dear boy, thrilled indeed! Your patron's told me so much about you!"
… and at that, Cross's expression flattened.
"I'm aware of your passion for the grim and eldritch. But you do realize you're talking about someone whose sense of humor is one step shy of Oogie Boogie's, right?"
The Pumpkin King's smile stretched by several more teeth, and Cross suddenly became acutely aware of the moon's light shining far brighter than it should have. "Ooooh yes, I'm well aware, which is why normally I wouldn't allow that astral ass within a dimensional fold of my dear town!"
And then Jack's expression went back to beatific (as beatific as a smiling skull could be anyways) and the moon's light became a little… well, less ominous.
"Save that he did offer such a delightful design for this Halloween, and I couldn't help but agree that it would be a real scream, so I decided to oblige and host you and all your friends for a wonderful soiree!"
Cross slowly relaxed at that. "Well… in that case, any idea where the rest of the crew is?"
"All across town and enjoying the festivities, along with your other friends, of course."
"Well, then. If we're in agreement," Robin said, sounding rather upbeat. "Let me get a picture before you show us around? Oh, I know!" She beamed brightly as she held up a polaroid camera. "Perhaps a photo to commemorate the—"
SMACK!
An outstretched zombie arm abruptly bashed Robin's camera out of her hands and to the ground, with Cross just staring at her with a distinctly unimpressed glower.
"Hey!" Robin protested, jabbing her finger in his face. "What do you think you're—!…you're…" the archaeologist abruptly trailed off as she caught sight of her own monochromatic countenance, and then blushed (as much as she was able under the circumstances) before coughing into her fist. "I, ah, ahem… nice catch?"
"You're very welcome, Vivi," Cross leered back with a vicious grin.
"Guh…"
The white-washed archaeologist sagged miserably to the deck, both under the weight of the accusation and at the fact that she couldn't actually protest it.
"YOHOHO! Well, if ever I needed any proof that this is going to be a good and fun time, I do believe I've just received it!"
The group spun around and were struck by a sudden sense of déjà vu. Very immediate déjà vu. There stood a near-exact duplicate of the skeleton they'd been speaking to, down to his stylishly-styled suit. Only near-exact, though, thanks to the large afro perched upon the newly arrived skeleton's skull.
"Though," Brook mused, looking down at himself. "I do appear to have made a bit of an inadvertent faux-pas, no? Perhaps I should change my clothes first—"
"Nonsense!" Jack interrupted Brook, sweeping up to him and grasping one bony hand with his own. "Why, I've had plans for a twin-act gathering spider eggs for centuries! You can dance, can't you? Oh, you'll learn! Come come, straight to my abode, we have a script to review, rehearse, and perform! Only ten hours until the show!" And with that, the Pumpkin King swept his new co-star off the ship and away for some spontaneous dramaturgy.
Shaking his head but smiling, Cross made to disembark.
Then he paused and called upward, "Hey, Soundbite? Are you close enough to hear me?"
"And MOOOORE!" the snail(?)'s voices cackled in delight. "I'm MOBILE now, SOOOO MOBILE! CHECK OUT HOW MANY LEGS I HAVE!"
And before anyone could put the pieces together, something crawled onto Cross's face. Something big and hairy and with-a-shitton-of-legs-OHHOLYSHIT!
"WAAAAAGH!" Cross outright shrieked, and did the only sane thing he could think of. Which is to say, ripping his head from his shoulders and punting it clean into the town itself, cackling spider-snail and all.
Robin could only cock an eyebrow as she watched her crew's decapitated tactician's body bolt after his screaming disembodied head before shaking her head with a fondly amused sigh. "Yes, this is promising to be a very Straw Hat Halloween indeed."
…Of course, in a place where everybody's always waiting for the next surprise, far be it for Jack to give forewarning for a good time so long as it was in the typical Halloween spirit. This meant that several denizens were left flat-footed at one of the more… prominent displays.
"A-a-a-ahem," the Mayor said through his megaphone, his face spinning both ways. "Attention, Mi… ah, Ma… Dragon. I must ask you to vacate the premises of our town hall at once."
"AND LEAVE MY TREASURE!? BEAT IT OR GET BURNED!"
"Besides, we're just resting here, don't make us move…"
"This is weird but I don't really care, all my treasure, so sparkly and shiiiiiny…"
"At last analysis, this structure bears six and a half separate other available means of egress and ingress, and my positioning bars not a single one of these routes. I see no reason to mobilize myself from my location."
"—wind speed seven knots, humidity 35%, temperature 50 Fahrenheit, current cloudrange formed primarily of cumulo—"
The two-faced Mayor had nothing on the five-headed dragon that was curled up on the massive mound of gold, silver, and precious things that was lighting up the town square too brightly for anyone to miss.
"Just leave her."
The mayor turned to see a feminine figure walking up to him. Despite her ominous attire and no-nonsense scowl, her appearance was a few shades more graceful and beautiful than was typical for their town.
"Oh heeeeey there, Capricorny!" the white-scaled head laughed, its every breath throwing up billows of wind. "You're looking funny! And horny! But not in the normal kinda horny, a different horny… or is that way the normal way and that other one the different one…?"
"DOESN'T MATTER!" the red-scaled head snapped, flames-aplenty wafting from its snarling jaws. "NOT ONE STEP CLOSER! MY GOLD! MINE!"
"Maleficent would—what did I just say?…never mind. Maleficent would like to remind you that not even your captain would be that stupid. So why would you think that I would?"
The (actually) red head snorted and subsided, though that didn't stop it from turning a gimlet eye on anyone who passed through the area. The now-identified Maleficent(?) turned to the mayor.
"As for me… I would appreciate an understanding of what's going on and where I am."
"I, ah, er—oh!" the Mayor fumbled for an answer before his demeanor abruptly (and literally) pulled a 180. "Oh, thank goodness, Jack! My boy, could you—er…?"
The Mayor's stuttering trailed off as he watched Jack Skellington run past him - with a doppelganger wearing an afro bare paces behind him. The witch's eye twitched, and then she sighed.
"Right, then. The Straw Hats. That, unfortunately, explains more than enough."
She glanced behind her and her expression flattened further at the sight of two pale-skinned creatures in red bodysuits and wild blue hair, one with heart-shaped glasses.
"…almost. Almost enough."
WHAM!
"OW!"
CLONK!
"OUCH!"
CRUNK!
"GYAGH! HOW MANY MORE GARGOYLES ARE IN THIS GODFORSAKEN—!? Answered my own question, didn't I?"
SPLAT!
"OW!…hard landing, but at least I finally stopped. Though who makes headstones out of metal?"
Soundbite's renewed cackling was Cross's only answer. As the really big freaking spider that his partner had become crawled off of his face and allowed him to see, the pirate blinked in bemusement at his situation. His head had fallen onto a tray that a woman clad in a not-quite-revealing sparkling navy dress had been carrying. A woman, whose hair was as blue as her clothes, who was staring down at him with an eye twitching in blazing fury.
"…one of my dearest dreams is hand-delivered to me. And you still manage to ruin it!"
"Oh, bite me," Cross said as his headless body finally caught up and snatched his head off of the—Cross had to choke down a chortle—silver platter that Tashigi had caught him on.
"I actually might."
At the decidedly more animalistic than normal growl behind them, Cross and Soundbite both froze. A mass of smoke coalescing before them, taking the form of a glaring, plume-huffing, cigar-chomping white tiger.
"It was a mistake to dress up in the first place, but now we've been dragged into your dimension-hopping nonsense and dropped into a world of nightmares. And your 'costume' is screaming 'carte blanche on carnage'."
"Meep," Soundbite squeaked, scuttling around to Cross' back. And staring down an angry tiger, Cross couldn't blame him.
Nor could he fight down his own natural instincts. "Hey, in my defense, that was the entire inspiration for this costume to begin with, I'll have you know!"
The tiger and… waitress, maybe? Cross still wasn't putting the pieces together there. Anyway, both gave him distinctly unimpressed stares.
"And how…exactly how," Tashigi bit out slowly, her eye twitching furiously. "Does that work out?"
Cross snickered eagerly as he spread his arms wide, indicating his own dilapidated and decomposing form. "I'm the World Government's worst nightmare twice over! Proof that not even in death will I shut my trap, and look!" The pirate grasped his own head and yanked it clean off his own neck, bouncing his grinning cranium between his hands. "I'm a talking head! Literally! HA!"
His amusement died fast at the complete lack of reaction from his compatriots in revolution. Scowling as he jammed his head back into place. "Ah, fuck the both of you, I'm hilarious."
"You're about to find out if I can kill you twice over if you don't tell me what the hell we're doing here!" Tashigi snarled, pulling Shigure out of… somewhere. Hard to say, really, it wasn't like her outfit left much to the imagination. Shaking off that thought, Cross sighed melodramatically.
"Better not to have to do this more than once. Soundbite, get me Jack."
Trying his best to summarily ignore the feeling of eight unnaturally large arachnid legs tapping against his rotting skin, Cross waited for the click of the connection and spoke, "Jack, sorry to interrupt you, but apparently my… 'patron', as much as that word revolts me, decided to take the word 'friends' to the nth level. I have a lot of very strong, very confused people who need an explanation before they start attacking anything that moves. Can I get you to explain?"
"—too big, not big enough, maybe I'll get some extra spider silk… black and white could clash well, yes—"
"JACK!"
"—WHA—ah, Cross, sorry! Yes, of course, I can take a moment for that."
"Alright, let me just—" Cross paused uncertainly, hand midway to his bag. "…wait, it just occurred to me. Jack, are there any Transponder Snails in Halloween Town?"
"Hm… I don't know about 'Transponders', but we have plenty of other snails! Why, they're used for practically everything around here! Cooking, cleaning, even compost!"
"GRUESOME! I LOVE IT!"
"…don't know what else I expected," Cross muttered, lifting the mic on his transceiver.
"Testing, 1-2, testing…" Cross sighed in relief as his voice echoed out over the dreary, dilapidated blocks. "Right, at least that works. Pirates and Masons, this is Cross-slash-Ophiuchus to shed a little light on the situation. First and most important, there's nothing to worry about."
"Little surprises around every corner, but nothing… INTENTIONALLY dangerous! OR AT LEAST, TERMINALLY!" Soundbite piped in.
"Yeah, that. And with that said, I'll leave the rest to the ruler of this world. You're live, Pumpkin King."
"Excellent! Dearly abhorred citizens of Halloween Town, for today only, we have a group of very special visitors from a faraway land. Please make sure to show them the proper courtesy and help to make this Halloween the most remarkably revolting one yet! And to our guests: I, Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King and Spirit of Halloween, would like to extend a warm welcome to our humble horrifying town. I hope that despite the sudden arrival, you'll find that you can enjoy our holiday to the utmost during your visit. To everyone: it's our celebration, so eat, drink, and be scary!"
The broadcast subsided a moment later, cheering interspersed with cackles and howls echoing from the town. Cross, still smiling, looked back at his companions, whose expressions had turned neutral.
"So, you're saying that after being dropped into another world and…mutated like this, there's legitimately nothing to worry about? This is basically just…a party?" Tashigi offered.
"Pretty much," Cross shrugged. "This world's another story from my home. You can expect to be scared, but it's all in the name of laughs and a good time. Honestly?"
He crossed his arms behind his head.
"It's nice to have a chance to really cut loose."
A pause.
SHING! Schlick!
"…not what I meant and you know it…" Cross groused, his disembodied head staring down the length of the blade that had speared his face right between the eyes.
"All in good, macabre fun, right?" Tashigi asked brightly.
"AT LEAST she's in good… SPIRITS now, RIGHT?"
"So, I think I've got your costumes figured out, but… I think that I'm missing a piece," Cross said, ignoring Soundbite.
"Huu…"
And in a puff of smoke that may or may not have been from the tiger, a familiar rabbit-wolf hybrid appeared on its back - dressed in a black top hat and tuxedo with form-fitting black shoes and white gloves. The mallet he carried was also black with white tips and jewels on the head.
"Ah, there it is," he nodded. "But in that case, shouldn't you be the one being cut in half?"
Silence followed that perfectly innocent question for a few moments before Tashigi kindly removed her sword from Cross's skull and lowered it to her side.
"You have five seconds," Tashigi said.
"Three," the tiger corrected.
Cross was already running again, all without losing his smirk for even a second.
With Cross's clarification, even the most skeptical of his allies were giving the monsters surrounding them the benefit of the doubt. Indeed, a handful of them were rather glad of the opportunity to interact with individuals that truly understood the term 'bloodthirsty.'
"I don't remember the last time that a visitor could truly share in our tastes," the eldest and girthiest of the four vampire brothers said, his brethren eagerly nodding along. "And erstwhile humans, at that. You simply muuuust tell us what you think! We would hate to be improper hosts, after all!"
"Half-human, to clarify," stated the visiting 'vampire' across from them, sipping his own share of the red nectar from a goblet, while a white-furred bat did its best to balance upright on his shoulder. "My other half is more accustomed to raw meat, so these cravings are far from foreign to me. Though I vill—" He momentarily snarled at the unwitting slip of his accent, as well as the raucous laughter it drew from his surrounding 'comrades' "—admit that it is interesting to try the blood on its own."
"I can't claim the same. And even under normal circumstances, I would find this disturbing. Among other… descriptors," commented the foam-covered mermaid lounging beside the menacing (and not MENACING) vampire, drinking from her own, most certainly not crimson goblet. "But… for the sake of my curiosity, however morbid, I do wonder: where did your… beverages come from, pray tell?"
"Oh, merely several of the vorst humans to walk the earth, to be certain," the third brother chuckled, eagerly hefting up a decanter. "This comes from an arsonist, Type A! Smoky aftertaste, most delicious!"
"And this one's from a murderer, Type O!" the second chortled, lifting a carafe. "Had a lot to spare splashed on him when we caught him, it all mixed delightfully well!"
"And the—oh blast this damned sense of balance!—" Hattori squeaked mutinously before pointing a clawed wing. "And what of that bottle there? Zealot? Door to door salesman? Lawyer?"
"Maple syrup," the youngest stated casually, shrugging at the bewildered looks he was given as a result. "Vat can we say? Blood is blood, who says it has to be human, hm?"
The dubiously 'ex'-assassins all opened their mouths to respond - and just as swiftly drank their drinks when they found themselves at a loss what to answer with.
Robin was grinning from ear to ear as she walked through the town. The seamless melding of fun and horror, cheer and gloom, tricks and treats in every direction were reawakening a joy tantamount to when Professor Clover had named her a scholar and when Vivi and Conis had become her students. A childish joy, perhaps, but if there was any place in the cosmos where 'childish' joy at the idea of horror was valid, it was right here.
Although there were other outside elements drawing her attention. The Masons drawn into this world consisted of far more than the leadership roster, leaving scores of pirates and Marines that hadn't bothered to dress up finding themselves lacking heartbeats. Whether time was frozen or they had become zombies was difficult to say since they weren't falling apart like Cross.
"So, WHY are we running if she can't kill you?"
"Because she can try? Plus we needed to look around town anyway."
"OOH, GOOD POINT!"
And right on cue, there he was, with a rabbit magician, his lovely assistant, and his pet cigar-smoking white tiger in hot pursuit.
Robin could only giggle at how so many others, including some of the Halloween denizens, watched the spectacle with dropped jaws or twitching eyes. Then something came to her.
"You know, if you'd like to catch him that much, I could offer you a bit of help."
Tashigi came to a halt, eyeing Robin and the set of black and white keys she was holding out with well-deserved suspicion.
"The vehicle these keys start may not be top of the line, but it's still fast enough that you'll be able to splatter his brains and guts everywhere if you run him down."
But the wonderfully morbid picture that her words painted had her grinning and snagging them faster than you could say 'Model A.'
"Oh, I'll get him now!" she declared, eagerly brandishing the keys high above her head. "Now that I know there isn't any chance of actually hurting him, I'm going to run down that eternally annoying yet oddly endearing bastard of a friend who's ruined my life for the better!"
Robin chuckled 'kindly' as she walked past the Marine. "Yes, well, good luck with that." And with that, she turned into an alleyway.
It was at that point that Tashigi registered exactly what she had just said. More specifically, the fact that it wasn't anything she would have ever dared to speak aloud, and that her fluffy partner and fuzzy superior were staring at her like she'd just gone mad.
"…why did I forget her relation to him? WHY!?" she screeched, kicking up a dust cloud as she sped off after the suit-clad woman and shot around the corner.
"100 beris says she's already gone," muttered a nearby Marine.
"No bet," several others around him answered.
"Yeah, for real," Cross nodded in agreement as he leaned in alongside them. "Her scene was finished, so she exited out. 'Skinda her main move, both tonight and normally."
"RAAAAAAGH!" a shriek of indignant fury roared out of the alley.
"Toldja."
The Marines all nodded in agreement before all doing magnificent double-takes at Cross. "Shouldn't you be running?" one of them asked.
"I was," the zombie shrugged in a 'what can you do' fashion. "But then Tashigi fell behind and I was afraid she'd lose my trail, so I decided to hang back for a bit until she was ready to continue."
"CROOOOOSS!"
"Aaaand I'd say that just about does it for fair play! SEEYAH!" And like that, the revenant bolted once more, the sequined 'assistant' hot on his rotting tail.
"So… you bored with this too?" Smoker inquired, gnawing on the cigars he was balancing in his muzzle.
"Mrph," Popora grunted in agreement, preoccupied with digging around in his tophat in search of a carrot. All he managed to withdraw was a potato, prompting a grunt of disgust.
"Thought so. C'mon." The tiger padded away, flicking his tail for the rabbit to follow. "I think I smell some meat this way. Red, too."
"Mmrph!"
"COME ON, TASHIGI, YOU CALL THAT A HUSTLE? I'VE SEEN GRANDMOTHERS RUN FASTER THAN YOU, AND HALF OF THEM WERE AS DEAD AS I—WAGH!"
"HOW'S THIS FOR A HUSTLE, PRICK!?"
"ACK! OUCH! SONNUVA—Hey, what are you hacking off?! Is that my torso!? IT IS! OH GOD, SOMEONE, HEL—!"
SLAM!
"Finally!" Finkelstein huffed, wheeling away from the window he'd just slammed shut. "So annoying, I couldn't even hear my own brilliance over all that racket. Now then!...ah, wait…" The patchwork professor popped open his cranium and scratched around his parietal lobe for a moment. "Where was I, where was—?" ZRT! A spark suddenly leapt from lobe to lobe, and he jolted upright in his wheelchair, the movement slamming his skullplate shut. "Ah, yes, now I remember! Assistants!"
A hockey-masked figure leaning on an odd staff and a short half-mechanical creature in aviator goggles, both of them hunched over—with hunches visible in their backs—raised their heads in acknowledgment. They stood - loomed, more like - over a sheet-covered figure on the lab's operating table.
"Yeeeees, master?" they intoned as one. Well, the aviator-costumed one intoned, the hockey-masked one could only let out a muffled mumble.
Professor Finklestein snapped his finger skyward. "Puuuuuull the lever!"
"Yeeeees, master!" the pair droned/groaned once more, reaching up to a lever installed in the wall, yanking it down, and causing the ramshackle machinery lining the lab to sputter and roar to life. Tesla coils jolted, pumps pumped, and lightning flowed through the myriad cables and wires lining the ceiling of the place—
KEE-CRACK!
Before a bolt of pure lightning leaped down and struck the be-sheeted figure.
"Uuuuuh—!"
A figure, which slowly rose to a sitting position upon the slab.
"EEEHAHAHAHA!" Finklestein cackled maniacally, wringing his hands with glee. "It lives! IT LIVES!"
Aaaaand it was at that point that Franky lifted the sheet off his head, cocking his brow at the very much mad scientist. "Yeah, no crap, that's the point. The whole idea here is to figure out how. Was that really necessary?"
That very neatly deflated Dr. Finklestein's mood, and it was a much more subdued man who wheeled himself over. "Scientifically, no, but Jack is very insistent about authenticity and proper procedure and tradition. And frankly, I don't disagree. Either way, now we can begin, so open up and let's take a look!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Merry squealed, zooming up to eagerly circle over Franky. She swept off his sheet so that she could more properly observe his far buffer, far more metallic body. "Your normal body's already cool enough as is, I wanna see how far you'll go in two years!"
"Mm-hm!" Usopp mumbled out in agreement, shooting Franky a thumbs-up… or tried to, anyway. It was hard to make sense of him with the hockey mask strapped over his face, and the hook that had replaced his hand didn't help matters either.
"Yes yes, we're all curious as to how the metal man moveth, so let's not dilly-dally." And with that declaration, the mad Professor shoved the cyborg back down onto the slab. "Now then, I feel I should warn you that I'm unaccustomed to having a test subject like you, Mister… Franky, was it?"
"And what's that mean?" the cyborg asked, grinning as he turned his doubly-thick neck to regard the wheelchair-bound mad scientist. "That you're gonna need to dig out your mechanics textbook for this?"
"Nnnoooo…" Finklestein dragged out, slowly withdrawing a scalpel from his lab coat and testing its blade. "More specifically, I mean I'm unused to working on anything with working nerve endings. Which means that all of my anesthesia's long since passed its expiration date. Which means…"
Finklestein's finger snapped down and jabbed a button on his wheelchair, causing—
SMACK!
—an oversized ceramic hand to rotate down from the ceiling and smack him soundly on the back of the head, a second press of the button repeating the hit and knocking him out properly, barely even allowing him to yelp in surprise.
"Goose-egg's gonna hurt later, but not as much as what we're about to do would've done without it," Finklestein muttered, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of what was about to happen.
"You two don't have any issues with this, do you?"
"Hm… on the one hand, loyalty to my dear and beloved crew and family, whom I cherish above all else… on the other, getting to dig through your lower intestine and see how everything's wired… a hacksaw! Where's a hacksaw! I need a hacksaw!"
"Mmph-mmph!"
The duck-billed mad scientist that could've sent Caesar Clown running for the hills grinned madly. "Ah, so wonderful to finally have competent help. Now then… BEGIN THE OPERATION!"
"Y'know, I think I figured out what's bothering me," said a large brown red-cheeked hare as he sipped from a cup of tea.
"About time," snorted a hippopotamus in an oversized top hat, never losing her smirk as she reached for a second cup. "So, is it the fur? The ears? The tail?"
"Honestly, no," the zebra responded, maneuvering a hoof to grab a nearby mug. "Why didn't I get the leading role between the three of us?"
"Oh, that's an easy one: Because you're not as good at laughing as I am! Kyahahahaha!" The hyena punctuated her point by throwing her head back and cackling.
"You're better suited as the March Hare, yes," came the voice of a drowsy mouse swimming in her own pot of tea. Or it may have been a shrew at the moment.
Two snickering witches watched from the head of the table, admiring their work and silently congratulating each other on coming up with the idea.
While a buffet stretched from the pumpkin patch through the town square, the cul-de-sac that housed the Witches' Shop had its own long table with a smattering of guests. Atop an acid green and ghastly grey tablecloth was every manner of drinking vessel, with potion vials as common as teacups. This attraction, while only implemented a few years ago, had gathered a smattering of ghouls every time they did it.
Of course, there were always different motivations for taking part, whether they were seeking fun or a quick makeover. Taking a seat at the other end of the table was a blue-haired crocodile with fury written all over her. The tall witch Zeldaborne raised a brow and came over.
"What's stuck in your jaws? You've got a lovely set of scales there."
She turned to regard her, doing her level best to hold back the inferno in her eyes. Oddly, Zeldaborne felt a sudden gust of wind nearly blow off her hat.
"I intended to represent one of the venerable deities of my country's pantheon. I didn't choose one in particular, and the jackass that dropped me here decided to go with Sobek, when it knows full well how much I would hate being a crocodile. Literally anything else that isn't a reptile, I will take."
And so saying, she grabbed the nearest vial, a blue potion labeled "Mathematician's Assistant," and after a moment of morphological confusion hissed through her new adder's head, reaching for the next one.
"Surprise!" went down next, her tail flicking behind her as she blinked two eyes each bigger than her usual head. "Neksht."
Poof. A turtle head. "Next!"
Poof. A bearded lizard head. "Fuck! Next!"
Poof. The same crocodile head she'd started with. She just rested her head in her arms and took a few deep breaths. This wasn't working.
"Literally anything, hmm? Here, try this 'Essence of Something We Found Beneath the Couch,' then," the shorter witch Helgamine said, proffering a pitch-black vial. "Don't blame me if you end up with too many legs, though."
"I'd rather be a roach than a reptile, I'll take it!" she declared, shotgunning the vial.
Two seconds later, a reptile big enough to tower over all of Halloween Town had upended the table. And nobody was more confused than the witch sisters.
In the town's massive pumpkin patch, the beast's sudden appearance drew the attention of several giant figures. Most notably, the Ettin that a pair of ogres had become and a towering specter with glowing eyes, along with eyelids bearing purple eyeshadow and long eyelashes.
"Wonder who that is," Broggy said.
"Not a Marine, but that's all I'd bet," Dorry snorted as he swung his right hand to smack away his left—
"YEOWCH!
—and caused Broggy to pull it back from the oversized mug of pumpkin mead they were enjoying.
"Dang it, you glutton! Let me have some too! What does it matter which one of us eats what, we're sharing a stomach right now!"
"I still like the taste, and we're not sharing tongues," Dorry spat before glaring to the side. "Hmph… I knew we should have gone as Sleipnir instead."
"I would have been an ass if we had!"
"YOU STILL ARE!"
"WHY YOU—!"
"Bosses, please stop!" came the pleas of a Giant-sized hawk and boar, joined by a slightly smaller bear.
"̸O̷r̶ ̷e̶l̷s̶e̷,̸"̷ hissed the Obelisk beside them, in a distinctly peeved feminine voice.
Half in concession to their crew and half from a well-justified fear of whatever Lola's form was capable of, the two heads grimaced at each other. One hand grabbed the mug that they had been fighting over and raised it to Dorry's lips, and the other grabbed a pumpkin that was almost too big for his hand and sliced it in half, raising one half to his head and taking a bite.
"Mmm… you miss out on a lot of good stuff away from the world for a year," Broggy remarked. "Can't remember the last time I had pumpkin."
"I could live happily on beer and meat, but I'd be missing out on too much," Dorry agreed. "Still, I didn't expect to see non-giants enjoying pumpkins the hard way."
It had been quite a surprise to see that many of the locals ate the pumpkins from the outside in rather than the inside out. It was the only way a giant could enjoy a pumpkin given their size, but it was an acquired taste.
"And I didn't expect pumpkin booze. Is there anything they don't have?"
"Not really."
All attention turned to the quiet gardener, a hulking corpse with an axe lodged in his head named Behemoth. His voice was low and slow.
"Pumpkins are the most important food of Halloween. I grow so many every year, we need to be versatile so they don't go to waste. If you like meat, how about our pumpkin chili?"
"Chili?" Broggy and Dorry parroted.
"Let me guess…" The Entity Named Lola opined, cocking an 'eye' at the titanic corpse. "'It's so hot it's scary'?"
"How'd you guess?"
"My family has much the same style of humor."
The giants exchanged looks and almost immediately agreed to change the subject and never ask. Turning back to the gardener, they gave him their winningest smiles.
"Give us the biggest pot you got, then, we'll give the chili a try! There's nothing in the world that's too hot for us!" Broggy declared.
…and right on cue, a jet of flame shot overhead from the general direction of the town.
"…lemme tag a post-scriptum onto that statement," Dorry warily amended.
"I guess the name was appropriate after all, I didn't have to do much for this diagnosis," a young girl dressed as a physician deadpanned. Currently, she was soaring above the town on the back of a great and mighty winged lizard with a stomach plated (almost) entirely in gold. "The prognosis: the Barto Club's already frayed survival instincts have withered to almost nothing thanks to the knowledge that nothing they do here will result in death. The primary symptom is the victims trying the absolute stupidest stunts imaginable."
She rammed her heel down on the small of her mount's back. "Like provoking the hell-beast ten times your size with five heads, who was already unstable enough as a human!"
"I took a calculated risk, it's not my fault math has changed in the past millennium! So now I'm leaving before things get messy! Such is life!" the dragon huffed without a shred of remorse.
"That way of life is the entire reason why you need to keep reincarnating to begin with!" the temporary Doolittle sniped. "Honestly, even ignoring the stupidity of getting anywhere near that gold-obsessed dragon while you are covered in gold, what were you even trying to do back there anyways, woo her or rob her?!"
"…both? Both!"
"THAT'S IT!" the diminutive doctor roared, ramming down on the dragon's shoulder and sending him into a tailspin.
"HEY, CAREFUL, CAREFUL!"
"OH, NOW YOU CARE ABOUT CAREFUL!"
The two continued to bicker as they tumbled, uncontrolled, through the air. Naturally, they shoulder-checked a roc flying in the other direction.
"HEY! Watch where you're flying, chapapa!" the roc shrieked after them. Grumbling to himself, he eyed the side of his body, where a large patch of feathers had been disturbed. "On the other hand, finally dislodged that stupid monkey. Doesn't he have anything better to do than gnaw on my wing?"
The chorus of screams that suddenly that wafted up from far below was his answer.
"Whoops…" the roc winced, yanking the zipper on his beak halfway shut. "Hope nobody finds out that was me. Maybe I can blame it on Kumadori, like the time I blamed him for shredding that heartwarming and thoughtful letter Jyabura was gonna deliver to that girl he was trying to woo."
"YOU DID WHAT!?"
"…maybe eating through a straw is worth it after all," he groaned, pulling the zipper the rest of the way shut and flapping frantically through the town's architecture, an airborne werewolf and kabuki actor swimming through the air after him.
He lasted all of three seconds before tugging his mouth open again and taunting his pursuers:
"And for the record, you guys' sorry excuses for 'costumes' still suck Sea King shite!"
"DIE!"
"Worth it!"
Sanji's worst nightmare had been the same since he started cooking: no matter how many terrible thoughts crossed his mind, no matter how much he experienced, nothing could be worse than losing his hands or the usage thereof. It said a lot, therefore, that his particular 'mutation' wasn't doing much to slow him down.
"—gently to make it look like a proper web! And make sure that that jack-o-lantern's filling is dry ice, not liquid nitrogen! That's for the grapes!"
Hard to say if that was due to his prodigious skill or that of the particular rat he had become. If the latter, he owed it all to Soundbite.
"SIR, YES, SIR! AND CONIS, MA'AM!" Ever barked, her voice more 'loud' than actually 'angry', even with a gun firmly locked in her arms and ammo belts rattling as she moved. "FOR THE RECORD, I DON'T CARE HOW ORIGINAL THIS IDEA WAS SUPPOSED TO BE, I AM NEVER SWAPPING CLOTHES WITH YOU AGAIN, MA'AM!"
"My dearest apologies, Madame GI Jane, I never dreamed that this could happen. I'm so sorry, and I'll make sure it never happens again," Conis simpered dropping into a quick curtsy - while simultaneously following Sanji's instructions better than she'd ever managed normally. At least being a temporary French maid was good for something other than random word substitutions… and other factors.
"MAYBE STOP CALLING ME THAT?" the army-geared pirate shouted, shoving her helmet up out of her eyes. "MY NAME HASN'T CHANGED, IT'S STILL EVER!"
"Bien sur, Madame."
Or perhaps the two polar opposite women that had volunteered to help him out were the ones due credit.
"My, my," a certain monochromatic woman chuckled as she approached the impromptu kitchen at one side of the buffet. "It seems that you have matters well in paw, Sanji."
"Doing my best with what I have, sweet Robin!" Sanji called in a less-lovestruck-than-normal voice. "But if you'd like to lend me a few hands, I'd be happy! Too many ingredients and not enough finished dishes for a whole town!"
"I can spare some time here, certainly," Robin said, hands sprouting and stirring and setting a cookbook beside the small blue rat. "Incidentally, you might enjoy this book—"
"Pass."
Robin blinked at the distinctly un-lovestruck and unamused chef. She shrugged, pushing the black-and-white book out of sight. Though honestly, she couldn't understand what problem he could have had with the book. To Serve Man, it was quite self-explanatory, wasn't—?
…ooooh. Once Robin recovered from her wince she decided to continue her work, glancing instead at Ever as she yelled again.
"ISN'T THERE ANYTHING MORE ACTIVE THAT I CAN—?"
"HAAAAAAAALP!"
There came a most unexpected sight stampeding by: a dugong-shaped mass of sausages, a bloated swordfish, a brown-skinned boar with an apple in its mouth, and a very large dark brown ungulate with large antlers, followed shortly by a large duck with a head shaped like a teacup, complete with sloshing liquid, and a rather relaxed dugong-shaped mass of salad greens on its back.
Behind these was a large red and blue gorilla with wide eyes and a drooling mouth munching on something as it galloped after them.
And behind him was another giant duck, this one looking rather normal aside from the large gash in his torso and with a look of frustration on his face rather than fear.
"GIMME BACK MY WIVEH, WUFFY!" he barked.
Four bewildered pirates stared after the stampede.
"…Carue dressed up as foie gras, I take it." Sanji deadpanned.
"Oh, dear," Conis said with a shake of her head.
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT… BUT GOOD ENOUGH! I'M GOING APE HUNTING!"
And so she was off, leaving Conis and Robin to aid with the food.
"On the one hand… he's not bothering us," Conis observed.
"On the other, he might actually eat them if we know they won't get hurt," Robin muttered. "And even if they do survive it, they won't stop belly-aching for weeks to come, pardon the pun."
"And for another thing, Braindead Bart'll likely come chasing after Ever if he finds out she's hunting him," Sanji huffed, carefully moving about to taste his dishes.
"Oh, that won't be an issue," Robin chuckled. "The last I saw of him, he was in the graveyard outside of town having a unique spar with Foxy."
That hung in the air for a few moments before Conis turned and tilted her head.
"Madame Ster—er, Robin, would you be so kind as to tell us what their costumes are?"
"I believe I heard something about 'green-faced from drinking insects.' Or it may have been half and half."
Sanji froze in mid-stir and slowly turned a distinctly unimpressed stare on his scarier-than-usual crewmate. "Thank you for all of your help, Robin dear, but I think I'd prefer you help us from… anywhere else. I think we have it from here."
Robin couldn't help giggling at the unamused dismissal.
"Scrub that smug smirk from your face, Rooster! And how about that moss from your ears while you're at it!?" Foxy, green-faced and zoot-suited, cackled, his arms stretching like Luffy's and, out of nowhere, producing a pair of giant soapy sponges to rub them against the other ghoul's neck.
"Back off, ya dumb Goat!" the black-and-white striped Bartolomeo shot back, grinning. "Ya wanna talk about dirty living? You're the one who's got bugs in his ears and ants in his pants!"
"Those pants? Bah! I meant to sell them anyway," Foxy scoffed, gesturing to a clothesline where the pants he'd been wearing moments ago were being eaten by ants. "As for the ears, the wax museums needed curators!"
Bartolomeo stared at the magnifying glass Foxy had held up to his ear, showing off a group of gnats getting a tour of cavernous sculptures of wax by a bipedal beetle. His eye twitched.
"What even are your powers right now? Mine at least have a rhyme and reason to them, even if it's nasty and crude. But yours are just—"
"Whatever I need to outfox literally everyone!" Foxy cackled.
"Go get him, Boss," purred Porche the black catwoman, while a luchador flexed supportively beside her.
"Don't worry, Bart, I'm sure you can handle him," drawled Ghin. He leaned back, relaxed, and pulled out some shuriken to spin around his fingers.
"Feel free to help whenever you want!"
Meanwhile, three troublemakers took in the scene from behind a hedge, preparing to jump into the fray themselves. They had some catching up to do after that scary old hag and the pink bunny with her stole their bathtub and started chasing everyone without a pulse.
After filling the tub up with sulfuric acid, of course. In response to their questioning looks, she had just given them a small smirk and said that she was playing a different Cleaner than normal. They wisely decided to cause mischief elsewhere.
"Literally everyone, huh?" a literal imp snickered, devil mask in place and plunger ready in his hand.
"Something tells me he hasn't met the likes of us; we won't be beaten in pranks," agreed a young witch, twirling her broom.
"It's gonna be a challenge, but we're not gonna lose to tourists!" a third boy in a skeleton costume grinned, stretching out his slingshot.
Whatever their planned entry into the escalating prank war was, it would go unseen. A stray herring knocked them overboard altogether, and the three of them only avoided landing in the river by dint of a large web that caught them just above the water's surface.
"Well, well, well…" Soundbite crooned, his grin stretching the very limits of his elastic flesh. "Three young troublemakers, looking to make themselves the biggest, most hated pests in the immediate vicinity? TRULY IT WARMS ONE'S HEART. ...IT ALSO SOUNDS LIKE A challenge. NOBODY IS MORE ANNOYING THAN I!"
"Oh yeah?" the witch leered back, brandishing her broom eagerly. "I've got doubts about that!"
"You think you're more troubling than us?" the boy in the skeleton giggled snidely into his hands. "Yeah, that's a challenge, that's a challenge right there!"
"And there's nothing we do better than doing our worst!" the imp finished, jabbing his pitchfork in defiance. "So go ahead and do yours!"
"JUST FOR THAT, I'm gonna go A LITTLE EASY on you kids," Soundbite decided… before his SMILE all but split his not insignificant bulk in half with sheer teeth. "ONLY A LITTLE BIT, THOUGH!"
It was an unfortunately short while after that that a certain insect came across the scraps of fabric that had once been a pair of pants. And a few minutes after that, that bug had summoned other bugs and filled the fabric up enough that it could move on its own.
It was an unfortunate fact that it was impossible to truly kill this entity as long as there were bugs in the world. But he could only be a threat again when he tracked down his henchmen to give him his old body back again.
But the least fortunate part of all of this belonged to that entity. After some searching he found the three little ghouls with their backs to him outside the town gate, where they seemed to be setting up a party.
"Looock? Shooock? Barreeel?" he called, his voice not as deep as he preferred but with enough lilt that they could recognize him. "There you twerps are! What's the big idea, making me wait so long, huh? I got big plans, and for that, I need a bigger body!"
"Ooooh? Is that so, Mister Oogie?" Lock sing-sang, a teasing lilt to his voice, though he didn't turn around. "Man, what a coincidence!"
"Yeah, yeah, a real coinky-dink right there!" Shock concurred, swaying back and forth on her heels. "We've got plans for you too!"
"Only, weeeeell…" Barrel's head turned so that he could shoot his mask's rictus grin at their ex-leader. "Something tells us that you're gonna like our surprise a looooot less!"
They turned, in unison, and Oogie froze as, with matching demonic grins, they brandished spray-pumps whose designs could only mean one thing.
"You… you-you-you ungrateful ingrates!" Oogie roared—or at least squeaked—with indignant fury, drawing himself up to his meager but full height. "You dare to betray me? Me!? HOW DARE YOU!?"
"Oh, it was easy!" Lock chortled.
"We got us a new boss!" Shock cackled.
"He's ten times meaner than you are," Barrel finished. "And a hundred times scarier too!"
"…meaner? Scarier?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?" Oogie really roared this time, puffing himself as big as he could go. Which, consequentially, only made him even more full of hot air than normal. "I'm Oogie Boogie! The boogeyman, the king of the creepy crawlies! And you punks dare to look down on me?! To turn your backs on me for some two-bit shyster!?" He stomped his stubby feet furiously. "Who is he, huh? What does he have that makes you think he's sooo much better than me? What does he got that I don't?"
"For starters? A BIIIIIG MOUTH. AND AN EVEN BIGGER APPETITE TO GO WITH IT!"
The not-even-half-baked boogeyman froze in some unrecognizable emotion at the sound of that ominous voice around him.
"Not to mention," it continued darkly. "The biggest talent for mischief-making and malevolence you've ever seen in a body like this… SINCE ANANSI, ARACHNE, AND LOLTH COMBINED."
At that, an emotion stirred in Oogie's guts that only Jack Skellington had ever been able to provoke: fear. Ever so slowly, he peered upward at the source of the voice.
What he saw was a spider with too-big eyes, too many teeth, and all of the above shining right down at him. And just as he was afraid of, the inherent power he had over anything creepy-crawly was failing.
"WELCOME TO my parlor," Soundbite crooned. "I'll be honest, buddy… I truly think AND SINCERELY HOPE THAT YOU'RE NOT GONNA LIKE IT!"
Oogie looked between the monster above him and the ghouls beside him, not liking his chances either way.
"Oh, RIGHT! Anyone else want in on this ass-whoopin'!?"
THUD! "OF COURSE!"
Oogie didn't even glance at whatever had just landed behind him, instead doing the smart thing and skittering away as fast as he could.
"Aww, HE THINKS HE CAN GET AWAY. That's cute. SIC 'EM, BOYS."
"It doesn't seem wise to me for you to invite this much damage upon yourself," the red-haired rag doll going by the name of Sally said. She and a few others were set apart from the party around them while she reassembled a certain zombie thread by thread.
"In my defense? She only went this far because she knew I'd still be alive—for a given value of the word—after all of it," Cross' disembodied head answered.
"And now you're back to zero. Try keeping it that way if you want to enjoy whatever time we have left in this world," Tashigi retorted from her aerial perch above Popora's fluttering paws.
"Is that your only reason?" Sally asked.
"You're wasting your time, ma'am."
The group turned their attention to a neighboring table, an island of calm in the raucous party. They had a chess motif, the one who had spoken resembling a white chess king.
"Agreed," the queen beside him sniffed. "It's nice to see another levelheaded woman, but that young man isn't one to listen to good sense."
"Or if he is, it means we're all in trouble," said a white knight, with the other three pieces nodding beside him.
"And in light of this experience, we count ourselves grateful that he's as restrained as he is," said a skeleton beside them. "Of course, I'm not sure I appreciate the changes."
"Well, for whatever it's worth… I think that your costume is really well done, Captain T-Bone. Excellent definition on the jawbones in particular," the knight said.
"…Drake."
"Yes?"
"I wasn't wearing a costume."
"…ah."
THUNK!
"Yoko?" T-Bone asked, eyeing the girl's boot.
"Here. This oughta be easier to shove in your mouth than your own."
"Hweehweehwee! Coulda just gone with simplicity, y'know? It worked with what it got, that's how Blueno ended up a minotaur and Zoro wound up like that," Lassoo, currently a Saint Bernard, snickered, jabbing his paw at the oni draining a cask of booze. "Just a barrel around the neck was enough for me."
"And fur covering my bottom half was enough that I wound up like this instead of a full giraffe," Kaku, resembling a giraffe centaur, groused.
"I was opposed to wearing this in the first place," Law drawled, his hat clashing with the white avian mask and black trenchcoat he wore. As one red-gloved hand continue tossing the torn-away face of a Clown up and down, he added with a smirk, "But I'll admit, I don't mind it."
"Nice to hear there are so many excuses. Think anyone could spare one for me?!" Yoko griped, yanking out the collar of her coat that, for once, actually fit her perfectly. "Seriously, stupid uniform, why couldn't I grow to fit instead of it shrinking?!"
"Because this is clearly funnier! Hweehweehwee!" Lassoo snickered into his paw, while Funkfreed—woolly and wooden as a literal battering 'ram'—tried in vain to hide his own chuckles.
With a flat expression, Yoko raised her hand and snapped her fingers.
BZZZZZZZZ!
And a moment later, a large structure flew off the city wall and into view. It resembled a miniature battleship, but with a prominent horned bowsprit, oars off of the sides fluttering like wings, and a face on the front that, though clearly painted on, looked very much real.
"Boss? Sic 'em."
"YIPE!" "DUMBASS DOG!"
And with those declarations, the animal-weapons bolted, doing their best to dodge Boss Kabuto's blazing salvos.
"You get the idea they've been spending too much time with me," Cross sing-sang.
"And wouldn't have it ANY OTHER WAY!" another voice sang in agreement.
Attention once again shifted to a whimpering bug-filled cloth that tumbled through the gates, followed closely behind by a familiar trio of misfits. A large spider was on Barrel's head, the latter showing no signs of discomfort. If anything, he seemed downright eager to act as Soundbite's bearer.
The watchers observed the chase as it tumbled on and on, right up to the foot of a pinstriped skeleton.
"Hello, Oogie," came a voice promising even more pain.
"J-J-J-J-Jack!? I-I haven't even done anything this time!" Oogie complained.
"Oh, I know that. I can tell by the fact that nothing's gone horribly yet," the Pumpkin King remarked. "And that isn't going to change tonight."
"Y-Y-You… bunch of party crashers!" he complained.
RINGINGINGINGING!
The skeleton and bug sack looked over to Robin who, ominous as could be, was holding out an old rotary phone. "Call incoming for one Mr. Boogie," she said darkly.
And that was the last straw. With a wail of fear and agony, Oogie tumbled and threw himself into the town's central fountain. And that was the end of his newest body.
"What was that one from?" Cross asked Robin.
"Oh, none of them, I just picked it up off a table as I was wandering." Robin tossed the phone aside without a second glance and an impish smile. "I can't help it if someone jumps to conclusions, now can I?"
"Well, you could, but you're never going to, are you?" Cross smiled right back.
"You know me so well."
"And speaking of knowing you…" Cross cast his gaze out over the town square, taking in the ghoulish and ghastly guests that were now his friends - and technically always had been, depending on who you asked. "Just making sure, but everyone accounted for?"
"Hm…" Robin silently counted down on her fingers before nodding. "Very nearly. The only one who isn't here yet is Perona. I saw her on the edge of the Hinterlands, dressed as the most elegant depiction of Death I've ever—ah." She perked up at the sound of trumpets and guitars. "Speak of the morally neutral personification of the afterlife."
And with that, a parade of skeletons came through the gate. As in, a literal parade, with instruments and costumes and everything! Or, well, as much 'costumes' as they could be when the skeletons were only wearing sombreros, but at least the music was nice.
At the back of the procession and being carried in on a litter was a scarlet-clad skeleton, her face ghostly white and made up to make her skull-like visage far, well, cuter than a skull had any right to be! And all the while, a pair of sheet-like ghostly canines eagerly circled around her.
Noticing the on-looking revenant, Perona—now a literal Ghost Princess—waved at him. "Hey, Cross, send my thanks to your gunner. These two have been the only properly cute things I've had for company since I got here!"
"Good boy, Zero!" Jack called out, waving gleefully. This earned him a gleeful bark from his pet.
"Good show, Su!"
"Eh, not my intended part, but I'll take it," Su shrugged, wheeling through the air. "Personally I'd rather go poltergeist, buuut that field's a bit saturated tonight! Oh well!"
"Oh, this is wonderful, just wonderful! A party that's very much raised the dead, and even death herself! A splendid display, Jack!" the Mayor exulted, hurrying up to the town's patriarch. "This is making for our best Halloween yet!"
"Oh, I agree most utterly, Mayor, it's going to be so successful it's horrifying!" Jack concurred, spinning around and spreading his arms eagerly. "And quite frankly, I just don't think I can wait a moment more! Mayor, my good man, I think it's about time to start the show!"
"NOT AGAIN!" Cross roared… before flinching with a sheepish chuckle. "Ah, aheh, whoops. Sorry, wrong show."
"W-what?!" the Mayor yelped, his expression snapping around to pale and terrified. "Already, Jack? But I thought you said ten hours!?"
"Oh, I did, and I was, but no more~!" Jack cheered, all but breaking out into his dance number then and there. "We'll be starting right here, right now, and we'll be going until our bones fall apart!"
"Yohohoho! And don't worry about material!" Brook concurred, mirroring his doppelganger step for step. "After all, that's what improvisation is for! And if there's one sort of bone in my body I'm full of, it's inspired ones! At least, I certainly hope so, after all—!"
"—he's all bone!" Jack finished for him, the two slinging their arms over one another's shoulders and chortling eagerly. "SKULL JOKE!"
"Oi, where's a crook when you need one?" Soundbite mock-lamented, sending his newly acquired posse into a fit of chortles.
"Weeeeell, in that case…" the Mayor flipped right back around, and beamed eagerly. "On with the show! Music!"
"APAPAPAPA!" cackled Apoo, an octopus with wasabi stalks in his hands, positioned over a DJ's table. "Ready for all of you grim, grinning ghosts!"
"Back-up Dancers!"
"We'll show you our moves, this'll be a great time!" Thing One declared, light glinting off his heart-shaped glasses.
"But still, I can't wait to stop speaking in rhyme!" Thing Two agreed, flexing the castanets his brass knuckles had become.
"Aaaand Maestro?"
"Ghouls and ghasts!" Jack cried out, garnering any straying attention to he and 'himself'.
"Terrors of all ages!" Brook concurred.
"Here beneath this full moon, we have only one thing to say to you all!"
The two Jack Skellingtons, one real and one afro-clad, stepped onto the stage and struck mirroring poses. And as the onlooking crowd cheered and howled their heads off—some even literally—a final declaration rang in the night.
"Happy Halloween… AND ON WITH THE SHOW!"
Cross-Brain AN: Hope you enjoyed it. Perhaps next year, we'll revisit and expand on this. No promises, though~
"This story takes place between dream and reality, on a night where the line between the two blurs and opens the way for some things to slip through. Here you have Mister Jeremiah Cross, one more familiar with that concept than most, yet who never seems to learn from—"
THWACK!
"—ow!" Robin yelped as a passing Cross dope-slapped her. She looked at him, trying to appear properly annoyed. "You know, it's less of a costume and more of a generic suit if you don't let me monologue like that."
"I am the last person who wants to dive deeper into The Twilight Zone, Robin. And for the record, no more using Soundbite to listen to the boobtube without supervision."
"AWWW, but I was just about to introduce her to 'WELCOME TO NIGHTVALE!'"
"And in what unholy dimension is that an argument to let you continue?"
The snail, less mobile than usual due to the spider-shaped onesie he was wearing, stuck out his tongue at the tattered zombie carrying him as he went back to putting up more spiderwebs.
"I'll take her haunting our nightmares for the next year if it means more material like this," Boss remarked, flexing in his blood-red martial arts gi, prompting the stiff rat tail that went with the costume to bob in the air.
"You do realize that what you're wearing is from something completely parallel to the horror genre, right?"
"Of course!" Boss declared, looking over his left shoulder to answer Cross while ignoring the facepalm. "But a good idea's a good idea."
"I find it interesting myself…though the correlation is bothersome."
With a small sigh, Chopper moved over beside he skeleton on deck, his suit redecorated in a pinstripe style with a bat bowtie.
"Brook, the nightmares are behind you. This is just another party for us, it's all in good fun," he said gently… before his expression flattened. "Why else do you think I'm putting up with the idea to dress up as 'Emergency Food Supplies?'"
"And what do you have to complain about?" Leo snarked. "You're the dessert course, meaning that the only one who could make a mistake and eat you is you, 'Chocolate Moose'."
"I'M A REINDEER, NOT A MOOSE!" the other three Dugongs shouted before Chopper could, leaving the dark-brown ungulate to grumble to himself.
"Yohohoho…" Brook chuckled, his spirits lifted. "Well, then… how close are we to being ready?"
"Usopp and Franky have got the heavy-duty decorations going on, we've got the rest by now," Mikey called from the air, where he was working his tail off to hang veneers to make the Sunny pass as a ghost ship. Sausage-shaped chains clattered with every kick of his tail.
"Everyone is in their costumes or getting dressed, aside from Rip Van Winkle over there," Leo said, pointing the needle-nose of his costume at the sleeping swordsman by the mast.
"Sanji and Conis are—oh, looks like they're ready!" Raphey said as the pavilion's walls sank down to reveal a small buffet of macabre treats: punch with hand-shaped ice cubes and fruit arranged like eyeballs; meatloaf and ketchup arranged to look like severed feet; spider-shaped sushi cuts on mayonnaise webs…
"Not often I get to put this much effort into the decorations instead of the taste," Sanji stated, scratching at the whiskers painted on his cheeks. "And for the record, I still say I should have gone with Prince Charming."
"And I'd rather be Rudolph than risk Luffy drooling over me any more, but I still chose a costume that was halfway clever, so suck it up!" Chopper retorted, before frowning even further as he felt a wet dripping on his shoulder. "And speaking of which…"
The human-reindeer swiftly palmed (or at least hoofed) a green vial and spun around, ramming it into the mouth of the Monkey (who was looking much more monkey-like than usual) who'd been looming over him.
"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT MADE OF CHOCOLATE, LUFFY!"
"MMRPH!? MMMMPH…Mmmm."
Luffy struggled briefly with whatever Chopper had shoved into his jaws before relaxing with a content look on his face. Chopper nodded firmly in satisfaction, turning back to the cook.
"Hey, Sanji, good news! That ooze-syrup you wanted is ready now!"
"Good!" The chef shot him a thumbs-up before returning to his spread, a hand fiddling with one of the mouse-ears stapled to his toque. "I just hope it tastes as good as it sticks…"
"No worries, San—er, 'Master'!" Conis demurred, curtsying and spreading her skirt daintily. "You're simply the best cook in all the seas, I'm certain it will taste delicious! Miss Conis believes in you!" The gunner maintained the curtsy for a moment before looking up with an expectant grin. "How was that? Am I pulling this off right?"
"HNNNNG!"
"Oh no, Sanji!"
Su, looking a lot more white than normal, leapt up onto one of Sanji's paralyzed and twitching legs, leering down at the stricken chef clutching his heart. "Looks like you're doing just good enough, Conis! Good thing it's not totally perfect, otherwise, he'd be pulling off my look even better than me, Tseeheehee—whoops!" Su's headband slipped down over her eyes, prompting an annoyed bark. "Tch, darn thing, not staying on right… Conis, if you wouldn't mind—?"
"Here you go, Su," Conis offered kindly, re-straightening her fox's headband. "By the way, interesting costume. I don't recognize it, though?"
"Eh, it's based on what people in Wano apparently think ghosts look like," the fox snickered as she waved her paws and tail in a spooooky gesture. "Been reading a lot of books about the place, thought it looked fun! But I should've gotten this thing fitted better."
"٩(θ‿θ)۶!"
"Huh?" Su looked up.
"SEEMS like our paparazzo disagrees," Soundbite crowed, baring his 'fangs' with a cackle. "Which is saying something, since she just came back from snapping pics of NAMI helping Vivi metaphorically and literally WRAP UP."
"WHERE!?" CLANG!
"You'll thank me for that later," Raphey drawled, one hand holding an apple she'd been sucking on and the other replacing the saucepan she'd just clobbered Sanji with. A moment later, as Gif finished with Su and Conis, Raphey returned the fruit to her mouth and did the best she could to look photogenic.
As photogenic as she could look while cosplaying as a roast boar, anyway.
"Pft!" Donny snickered, leaning close to his brother, leafage rustling. "Now there's a costume that works for a lot of reasons! Ha!"
The Fish and Salad courses devolved into unsubtle snickering, Cross rolling his eyes. "And karma in three, two…"
"WHO WANTS TO ROAST FIRST, FUNNY GUYS!?"
"ARGH!"
"Touchdown, we have touchdown," the tactician chuckled as he watched the Main Course chase the sides with her own 'spit'.
"Alright, a little help with our decoratio—WHAGH?!"
And Usopp's entrance got delayed by the chase running past him, spinning him around in place, and sending some of the decorations in his arms flying.
"HEEHEEHEEhoohoohoo… haahhh," Soundbite trailed off, glancing all 'eight' of his eyes upward. "Y'KNOW, this'll be a great party and all, BUT I'M KINDA MISSING OUT ON THE TRICK-OR-TREATING PART. WALKING ARMCHAIR OR NO, IT'D HAVE BEEN A HECK OF A LOT OF FUN!"
"I know what you mean," Mikey said, carefully swimming down to the deck before plopping on his back and reclining on his shell. "Too small a sample size for any good pranks that we haven't used up in the last few months, and not even I'm stupid enough to mess with Sanji's food… anymore. I mean, this'll be fun, but—!"
"You'll get both, no need to pick: have a treat and have a trick!"
"WOAH!"/ "HOLY MACKEREL!"/"SONNUVA—!"
The entire crew jumped in shock, fully unprepared for the spooooky voice that suddenly drifted out of the grinning maw of one of the jack-o-lanterns, carved out to look like a grinning witch.
And the frights weren't finished. The voice picked up once more, this time from a new source.
"You can bat that you'll have a fangtastic night," said a lavender-colored bat decoration.
"No bones about it, this'll be a special Halloween," cackled Brook—no, a decorative skeleton with a fake afro that was dressed in Brook's old suit.
The crew blinked and were about to shrug off the animated decorations—
"EVERYTHING'S TALKING!"
Until that voice spoke up and everyone double-took. Cross ran a hand down his face at the sight of a South Bird perched on the pavilion.
"Why and how are you here?"
"WHAT KIND OF WELCOME IS THAT!?" Terry roared.
"What's with all the yelling?" Franky asked, emerging with some difficulty in his costume. He blinked at the flickering lights and laughing decorations. Then he grinned.
"Now, this is some SUPER! Halloween decorations!" he declared, posing. "Nice job on the voiceovers, Soundbite!"
"…what."
The laughter slowly subsided as Soundbite looked at Franky, smiling too widely.
"Y-y-you're joking, r-right? 'Cause this ain't ME."
And with that a lead weight settled in everyone's stomachs.
"Uhhh… if it wasn't either of you, and it wasn't Usopp, and it wasn't any of us…" Donny said, looking around pleadingly. Terror slowly spread over his features when nobody—not Robin, not his siblings, not even Luffy—spoke up. His line of question died in a whimper as they looked back at the decorations.
And found them all smiling to put Cross to shame.
"All in good fun. Now… mind the DRO~OOOP!"
"NONONONONONONO—!"
The chorus ran from almost the entire crew. Several even twitched toward the edge of the ship, as if to jump overboard. But halfway between petrified and resigned, Cross snapped his fingers before Soundbite's face.
"Attention, passengers. You-know-who has decided to screw around with us, meaning that in a matter of seconds, we will plunge—ship and all—into a bottomless pit. Please make sure to scream at the top of your lungs as we fall, so that it is properly amused and doesn't decide to pull something even worse." The already-pale tactician whimpered miserably as he clung to the rigging for dear life. "I know I will…"
Everything froze, leaving it plain to see when Sunny's jaw dropped in horrified shock - right as the ocean beneath them vanished into a black abyss.
"Thank you and good night," Soundbite whimpered through a broken smile.
And that was apparently gravity's cue.
"AAAAAAAAGH!"
-o- Ladies and Gentlemen, Ghasts and Ghouls of all Ages…-o-
-o- Kindly prepare for a night of thrills, chills, frights, and delights all alike!-o-
-o- Put your tentacles, claws, and various other appendages together fooooor...-o-
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
The This Bites! Halloween Holiday Not-So-Horrorshow!
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
-o- Kindly prepare for a night of thrills, chills, frights, and delights all alike!-o-
-o- Put your tentacles, claws, and various other appendages together fooooor...-o-
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
The This Bites! Halloween Holiday Not-So-Horrorshow!
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
…clay. Yes, that was definitely what it felt like beneath Cross as he stirred awake. That was nice and normal! Though he could also sense that something was wrong.
Well, besides feeling like he had all just fallen off the top of a multi-story tower. Again. And didn't it just say it all when he knew how that felt?
"Arrrrrgh…" Cross groaned, his eyes slowly cracking open. "You know, I don't think it hurt so much last time… huh?"
Cross blinked and tried to sit up, but his muscles seemed oddly unresponsive. Or backward, rather. He pushed away the feeling of dread bubbling up and blinked a few times. His hands rubbed carefully on the surface he was laying on while he confirmed that he was, in fact, looking up at the ship's mast.
"…Franky? Bad news: I think that fall tore off Sunny's lawn."
There was no immediate response. And considering how at least three of the crew would go berserk at any harm to Sunny while at least five others would be angry about damage to the lawn, that was the opposite of reassuring.
"And… we're scattered again, perfect. Alright, who've we got here?" Cross asked, struggling again to sit up—and then feeling several arms pressing up against his front, lifting him off the ground.
"Just Brook and myself, I think, and he's below deck," came Robin's voice. "And I would suggest you hold still. It's a mercy that you're somehow alive with a broken neck, but let me fix it."
"Broken ne—CK!" Cross choked, his senses catching up to him. Robin's arms, sprouting from the ground, were lifting him up by his chest and stomach, while his head was facing up.
"Not moving a muscle, right," he squeaked. "What about you?"
"I believe that I'm bruised black and blue from that fall, but it's a bit hard to tell at the moment."
Robin stepped into view, and Cross blinked several times. But no, he hadn't gone selectively colorblind, his sister had just turned monochromatic. And from there, his mind slowly connected the pieces.
"…welp. Everybody's gonna recognize you as Rod Sterling just fine now," he snarked.
"Yes yes, we've all turned into our costumes, very humorous and potentially dangerous, I'm well aware," Robin scoffed, firmly taking ahold of his head. "Now hold still, I don't want to hurt you any more than you already are."
And with that, she gave his cranium a sharp twist—!
CRACK!
And then froze up quite abruptly when Cross's head snapped off his neck and hung loosely in her hands.
There hung Jeremiah Cross's decapitated head, lifeless, forelorn, all words fled from his mortal coil!
…at least until he blinked in surprise, shooting a hesitant smirk at his beheader. "Robin, not that I'm one to complain, heaven forbid, but, ah, your bedside manner? I think it could use some work. Just a bit is all, you know?"
Robin's eye twitched viciously, a dark, eldritch realization occuring to her. "Your costume was a zombie, wasn't it?" And with that deduction, she tossed his head away.
Or at least, tossed it into the waiting hands of his own body, which had abruptly sat up and grabbed his cranium midflight. "Woo, headtrip!" Cross snickered as he rammed his head back onto his own neck, jerking it right and left to fit back into place. "And hey now, that's racist! We prefer 'living impaired'!…I assume!"
Robin, perhaps the sanest of the Straw Hats and perfectly aware of the scope of their potential problems in the situation, nonetheless had to fight very, very hard not to smile at the wisecrack and imagery.
"Well, if we're not in any immediate danger, let me see where we are and hope that you recognize it. Also, I believe that this came from you-know-who," she said calmly, flicking a folded piece of paper and (likely intentionally) lodging it in Cross's hand.
Cross shook out the paper and read, "'Enjoy the night while it lasts.'" Scoffing and tossing it away, he said, "Well, that confirms that all of this is temporary, everything'll be back to normal soon enough. Thank goodness for that."
His thought of feeling clay beneath him was accurate. However they got wherever they were, the Sunny had taken on his own ghostly costume as they came down. The previously verdant green deck was now mostly barren. Tufts of green grass grew here and there, but spiderwebs and unmarked headstones and crosses adorned the otherwise barren soil. Only Nami's tangerine trees seemed untouched.
"So, what've we got?" he asked, approaching the railing where Robin was already scanning the area outside of the ship, her arms crossed and her eyes closed.
"…the Sunny is atop an odd hill in the middle of a graveyard. A forest is to one side while a town appears to be in the other direction. Everything appears to be thematically dark, crooked, and ominous."
Cross took one sweeping look around, and his eyes widened in realization at the very large moon on the horizon.
"Robin, the 'odd hill' wouldn't happen to be spiral-shaped, would it?"
"Then you do know where we are," Robin confirmed, giving him a serious look. "So, brother dearest, what are we in for? Murderous cannibals? Serial killers abounding? Eldritch horrors from beyond the Nth dimension, here to devour our brains? Which is to say, my brains and simply starve when they come to you?"
"Hilarious. And, honestly? For once, we're in the clear. And I mean that."
"Come again?"
"Nico Robin, allow me to welcome you to Halloween Town! As in, an entire town, if not a plane of existence, dedicated entirely and solely to the holiday of Halloween! Inhabited by each and every ghoul, ghast, and other grim and spooky monstrosity you can imagine. Halloween is actually a pretty nice town."
"You just said it was inhabited by monsters!"
"Who all love the holiday of Halloween for the thrills and chills it brings once a year! And besides, look at us! Neither of us is exactly human anymore!"
"That you aren't, my friends!"
"WAGH!"
And Cross nearly lost his head again as a pinstripe-suited skeleton popped up in front of them, grinning fit to pop his mandibles.
"Geez, Brook, speak up a little sooner next time," Cross huffed. "Though man, that costume is really appropriate, especially given where we—!"
"Ah, Cross?"
Feeling a tug on his sleeve, Cross gave Robin a confused look, before following her finger what she was pointing at. Which seemed to be the space above 'Brook's head… which was currently… afro-less…
The second those pieces slotted together, aided by 'Brook's bony grin growing all the wider, Cross immediately swung down in an exaggerated bow.
"Jack Skellington, thrilled to make your acquaintance, my good ghoul! I'm Jeremiah Cross, Straw Hat Pirate—"
"And Voice of Anarchy, yes yes, so I've heard! Thrilled to meet you dear boy, thrilled indeed! Your patron's told me so much about you!"
… and at that, Cross's expression flattened.
"I'm aware of your passion for the grim and eldritch. But you do realize you're talking about someone whose sense of humor is one step shy of Oogie Boogie's, right?"
The Pumpkin King's smile stretched by several more teeth, and Cross suddenly became acutely aware of the moon's light shining far brighter than it should have. "Ooooh yes, I'm well aware, which is why normally I wouldn't allow that astral ass within a dimensional fold of my dear town!"
And then Jack's expression went back to beatific (as beatific as a smiling skull could be anyways) and the moon's light became a little… well, less ominous.
"Save that he did offer such a delightful design for this Halloween, and I couldn't help but agree that it would be a real scream, so I decided to oblige and host you and all your friends for a wonderful soiree!"
Cross slowly relaxed at that. "Well… in that case, any idea where the rest of the crew is?"
"All across town and enjoying the festivities, along with your other friends, of course."
"Well, then. If we're in agreement," Robin said, sounding rather upbeat. "Let me get a picture before you show us around? Oh, I know!" She beamed brightly as she held up a polaroid camera. "Perhaps a photo to commemorate the—"
SMACK!
An outstretched zombie arm abruptly bashed Robin's camera out of her hands and to the ground, with Cross just staring at her with a distinctly unimpressed glower.
"Hey!" Robin protested, jabbing her finger in his face. "What do you think you're—!…you're…" the archaeologist abruptly trailed off as she caught sight of her own monochromatic countenance, and then blushed (as much as she was able under the circumstances) before coughing into her fist. "I, ah, ahem… nice catch?"
"You're very welcome, Vivi," Cross leered back with a vicious grin.
"Guh…"
The white-washed archaeologist sagged miserably to the deck, both under the weight of the accusation and at the fact that she couldn't actually protest it.
"YOHOHO! Well, if ever I needed any proof that this is going to be a good and fun time, I do believe I've just received it!"
The group spun around and were struck by a sudden sense of déjà vu. Very immediate déjà vu. There stood a near-exact duplicate of the skeleton they'd been speaking to, down to his stylishly-styled suit. Only near-exact, though, thanks to the large afro perched upon the newly arrived skeleton's skull.
"Though," Brook mused, looking down at himself. "I do appear to have made a bit of an inadvertent faux-pas, no? Perhaps I should change my clothes first—"
"Nonsense!" Jack interrupted Brook, sweeping up to him and grasping one bony hand with his own. "Why, I've had plans for a twin-act gathering spider eggs for centuries! You can dance, can't you? Oh, you'll learn! Come come, straight to my abode, we have a script to review, rehearse, and perform! Only ten hours until the show!" And with that, the Pumpkin King swept his new co-star off the ship and away for some spontaneous dramaturgy.
Shaking his head but smiling, Cross made to disembark.
Then he paused and called upward, "Hey, Soundbite? Are you close enough to hear me?"
"And MOOOORE!" the snail(?)'s voices cackled in delight. "I'm MOBILE now, SOOOO MOBILE! CHECK OUT HOW MANY LEGS I HAVE!"
And before anyone could put the pieces together, something crawled onto Cross's face. Something big and hairy and with-a-shitton-of-legs-OHHOLYSHIT!
"WAAAAAGH!" Cross outright shrieked, and did the only sane thing he could think of. Which is to say, ripping his head from his shoulders and punting it clean into the town itself, cackling spider-snail and all.
Robin could only cock an eyebrow as she watched her crew's decapitated tactician's body bolt after his screaming disembodied head before shaking her head with a fondly amused sigh. "Yes, this is promising to be a very Straw Hat Halloween indeed."
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
…Of course, in a place where everybody's always waiting for the next surprise, far be it for Jack to give forewarning for a good time so long as it was in the typical Halloween spirit. This meant that several denizens were left flat-footed at one of the more… prominent displays.
"A-a-a-ahem," the Mayor said through his megaphone, his face spinning both ways. "Attention, Mi… ah, Ma… Dragon. I must ask you to vacate the premises of our town hall at once."
"AND LEAVE MY TREASURE!? BEAT IT OR GET BURNED!"
"Besides, we're just resting here, don't make us move…"
"This is weird but I don't really care, all my treasure, so sparkly and shiiiiiny…"
"At last analysis, this structure bears six and a half separate other available means of egress and ingress, and my positioning bars not a single one of these routes. I see no reason to mobilize myself from my location."
"—wind speed seven knots, humidity 35%, temperature 50 Fahrenheit, current cloudrange formed primarily of cumulo—"
The two-faced Mayor had nothing on the five-headed dragon that was curled up on the massive mound of gold, silver, and precious things that was lighting up the town square too brightly for anyone to miss.
"Just leave her."
The mayor turned to see a feminine figure walking up to him. Despite her ominous attire and no-nonsense scowl, her appearance was a few shades more graceful and beautiful than was typical for their town.
"Oh heeeeey there, Capricorny!" the white-scaled head laughed, its every breath throwing up billows of wind. "You're looking funny! And horny! But not in the normal kinda horny, a different horny… or is that way the normal way and that other one the different one…?"
"DOESN'T MATTER!" the red-scaled head snapped, flames-aplenty wafting from its snarling jaws. "NOT ONE STEP CLOSER! MY GOLD! MINE!"
"Maleficent would—what did I just say?…never mind. Maleficent would like to remind you that not even your captain would be that stupid. So why would you think that I would?"
The (actually) red head snorted and subsided, though that didn't stop it from turning a gimlet eye on anyone who passed through the area. The now-identified Maleficent(?) turned to the mayor.
"As for me… I would appreciate an understanding of what's going on and where I am."
"I, ah, er—oh!" the Mayor fumbled for an answer before his demeanor abruptly (and literally) pulled a 180. "Oh, thank goodness, Jack! My boy, could you—er…?"
The Mayor's stuttering trailed off as he watched Jack Skellington run past him - with a doppelganger wearing an afro bare paces behind him. The witch's eye twitched, and then she sighed.
"Right, then. The Straw Hats. That, unfortunately, explains more than enough."
She glanced behind her and her expression flattened further at the sight of two pale-skinned creatures in red bodysuits and wild blue hair, one with heart-shaped glasses.
"…almost. Almost enough."
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
WHAM!
"OW!"
CLONK!
"OUCH!"
CRUNK!
"GYAGH! HOW MANY MORE GARGOYLES ARE IN THIS GODFORSAKEN—!? Answered my own question, didn't I?"
SPLAT!
"OW!…hard landing, but at least I finally stopped. Though who makes headstones out of metal?"
Soundbite's renewed cackling was Cross's only answer. As the really big freaking spider that his partner had become crawled off of his face and allowed him to see, the pirate blinked in bemusement at his situation. His head had fallen onto a tray that a woman clad in a not-quite-revealing sparkling navy dress had been carrying. A woman, whose hair was as blue as her clothes, who was staring down at him with an eye twitching in blazing fury.
"…one of my dearest dreams is hand-delivered to me. And you still manage to ruin it!"
"Oh, bite me," Cross said as his headless body finally caught up and snatched his head off of the—Cross had to choke down a chortle—silver platter that Tashigi had caught him on.
"I actually might."
At the decidedly more animalistic than normal growl behind them, Cross and Soundbite both froze. A mass of smoke coalescing before them, taking the form of a glaring, plume-huffing, cigar-chomping white tiger.
"It was a mistake to dress up in the first place, but now we've been dragged into your dimension-hopping nonsense and dropped into a world of nightmares. And your 'costume' is screaming 'carte blanche on carnage'."
"Meep," Soundbite squeaked, scuttling around to Cross' back. And staring down an angry tiger, Cross couldn't blame him.
Nor could he fight down his own natural instincts. "Hey, in my defense, that was the entire inspiration for this costume to begin with, I'll have you know!"
The tiger and… waitress, maybe? Cross still wasn't putting the pieces together there. Anyway, both gave him distinctly unimpressed stares.
"And how…exactly how," Tashigi bit out slowly, her eye twitching furiously. "Does that work out?"
Cross snickered eagerly as he spread his arms wide, indicating his own dilapidated and decomposing form. "I'm the World Government's worst nightmare twice over! Proof that not even in death will I shut my trap, and look!" The pirate grasped his own head and yanked it clean off his own neck, bouncing his grinning cranium between his hands. "I'm a talking head! Literally! HA!"
His amusement died fast at the complete lack of reaction from his compatriots in revolution. Scowling as he jammed his head back into place. "Ah, fuck the both of you, I'm hilarious."
"You're about to find out if I can kill you twice over if you don't tell me what the hell we're doing here!" Tashigi snarled, pulling Shigure out of… somewhere. Hard to say, really, it wasn't like her outfit left much to the imagination. Shaking off that thought, Cross sighed melodramatically.
"Better not to have to do this more than once. Soundbite, get me Jack."
Trying his best to summarily ignore the feeling of eight unnaturally large arachnid legs tapping against his rotting skin, Cross waited for the click of the connection and spoke, "Jack, sorry to interrupt you, but apparently my… 'patron', as much as that word revolts me, decided to take the word 'friends' to the nth level. I have a lot of very strong, very confused people who need an explanation before they start attacking anything that moves. Can I get you to explain?"
"—too big, not big enough, maybe I'll get some extra spider silk… black and white could clash well, yes—"
"JACK!"
"—WHA—ah, Cross, sorry! Yes, of course, I can take a moment for that."
"Alright, let me just—" Cross paused uncertainly, hand midway to his bag. "…wait, it just occurred to me. Jack, are there any Transponder Snails in Halloween Town?"
"Hm… I don't know about 'Transponders', but we have plenty of other snails! Why, they're used for practically everything around here! Cooking, cleaning, even compost!"
"GRUESOME! I LOVE IT!"
"…don't know what else I expected," Cross muttered, lifting the mic on his transceiver.
"Testing, 1-2, testing…" Cross sighed in relief as his voice echoed out over the dreary, dilapidated blocks. "Right, at least that works. Pirates and Masons, this is Cross-slash-Ophiuchus to shed a little light on the situation. First and most important, there's nothing to worry about."
"Little surprises around every corner, but nothing… INTENTIONALLY dangerous! OR AT LEAST, TERMINALLY!" Soundbite piped in.
"Yeah, that. And with that said, I'll leave the rest to the ruler of this world. You're live, Pumpkin King."
"Excellent! Dearly abhorred citizens of Halloween Town, for today only, we have a group of very special visitors from a faraway land. Please make sure to show them the proper courtesy and help to make this Halloween the most remarkably revolting one yet! And to our guests: I, Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King and Spirit of Halloween, would like to extend a warm welcome to our humble horrifying town. I hope that despite the sudden arrival, you'll find that you can enjoy our holiday to the utmost during your visit. To everyone: it's our celebration, so eat, drink, and be scary!"
The broadcast subsided a moment later, cheering interspersed with cackles and howls echoing from the town. Cross, still smiling, looked back at his companions, whose expressions had turned neutral.
"So, you're saying that after being dropped into another world and…mutated like this, there's legitimately nothing to worry about? This is basically just…a party?" Tashigi offered.
"Pretty much," Cross shrugged. "This world's another story from my home. You can expect to be scared, but it's all in the name of laughs and a good time. Honestly?"
He crossed his arms behind his head.
"It's nice to have a chance to really cut loose."
A pause.
SHING! Schlick!
"…not what I meant and you know it…" Cross groused, his disembodied head staring down the length of the blade that had speared his face right between the eyes.
"All in good, macabre fun, right?" Tashigi asked brightly.
"AT LEAST she's in good… SPIRITS now, RIGHT?"
"So, I think I've got your costumes figured out, but… I think that I'm missing a piece," Cross said, ignoring Soundbite.
"Huu…"
And in a puff of smoke that may or may not have been from the tiger, a familiar rabbit-wolf hybrid appeared on its back - dressed in a black top hat and tuxedo with form-fitting black shoes and white gloves. The mallet he carried was also black with white tips and jewels on the head.
"Ah, there it is," he nodded. "But in that case, shouldn't you be the one being cut in half?"
Silence followed that perfectly innocent question for a few moments before Tashigi kindly removed her sword from Cross's skull and lowered it to her side.
"You have five seconds," Tashigi said.
"Three," the tiger corrected.
Cross was already running again, all without losing his smirk for even a second.
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
With Cross's clarification, even the most skeptical of his allies were giving the monsters surrounding them the benefit of the doubt. Indeed, a handful of them were rather glad of the opportunity to interact with individuals that truly understood the term 'bloodthirsty.'
"I don't remember the last time that a visitor could truly share in our tastes," the eldest and girthiest of the four vampire brothers said, his brethren eagerly nodding along. "And erstwhile humans, at that. You simply muuuust tell us what you think! We would hate to be improper hosts, after all!"
"Half-human, to clarify," stated the visiting 'vampire' across from them, sipping his own share of the red nectar from a goblet, while a white-furred bat did its best to balance upright on his shoulder. "My other half is more accustomed to raw meat, so these cravings are far from foreign to me. Though I vill—" He momentarily snarled at the unwitting slip of his accent, as well as the raucous laughter it drew from his surrounding 'comrades' "—admit that it is interesting to try the blood on its own."
"I can't claim the same. And even under normal circumstances, I would find this disturbing. Among other… descriptors," commented the foam-covered mermaid lounging beside the menacing (and not MENACING) vampire, drinking from her own, most certainly not crimson goblet. "But… for the sake of my curiosity, however morbid, I do wonder: where did your… beverages come from, pray tell?"
"Oh, merely several of the vorst humans to walk the earth, to be certain," the third brother chuckled, eagerly hefting up a decanter. "This comes from an arsonist, Type A! Smoky aftertaste, most delicious!"
"And this one's from a murderer, Type O!" the second chortled, lifting a carafe. "Had a lot to spare splashed on him when we caught him, it all mixed delightfully well!"
"And the—oh blast this damned sense of balance!—" Hattori squeaked mutinously before pointing a clawed wing. "And what of that bottle there? Zealot? Door to door salesman? Lawyer?"
"Maple syrup," the youngest stated casually, shrugging at the bewildered looks he was given as a result. "Vat can we say? Blood is blood, who says it has to be human, hm?"
The dubiously 'ex'-assassins all opened their mouths to respond - and just as swiftly drank their drinks when they found themselves at a loss what to answer with.
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
Robin was grinning from ear to ear as she walked through the town. The seamless melding of fun and horror, cheer and gloom, tricks and treats in every direction were reawakening a joy tantamount to when Professor Clover had named her a scholar and when Vivi and Conis had become her students. A childish joy, perhaps, but if there was any place in the cosmos where 'childish' joy at the idea of horror was valid, it was right here.
Although there were other outside elements drawing her attention. The Masons drawn into this world consisted of far more than the leadership roster, leaving scores of pirates and Marines that hadn't bothered to dress up finding themselves lacking heartbeats. Whether time was frozen or they had become zombies was difficult to say since they weren't falling apart like Cross.
"So, WHY are we running if she can't kill you?"
"Because she can try? Plus we needed to look around town anyway."
"OOH, GOOD POINT!"
And right on cue, there he was, with a rabbit magician, his lovely assistant, and his pet cigar-smoking white tiger in hot pursuit.
Robin could only giggle at how so many others, including some of the Halloween denizens, watched the spectacle with dropped jaws or twitching eyes. Then something came to her.
"You know, if you'd like to catch him that much, I could offer you a bit of help."
Tashigi came to a halt, eyeing Robin and the set of black and white keys she was holding out with well-deserved suspicion.
"The vehicle these keys start may not be top of the line, but it's still fast enough that you'll be able to splatter his brains and guts everywhere if you run him down."
But the wonderfully morbid picture that her words painted had her grinning and snagging them faster than you could say 'Model A.'
"Oh, I'll get him now!" she declared, eagerly brandishing the keys high above her head. "Now that I know there isn't any chance of actually hurting him, I'm going to run down that eternally annoying yet oddly endearing bastard of a friend who's ruined my life for the better!"
Robin chuckled 'kindly' as she walked past the Marine. "Yes, well, good luck with that." And with that, she turned into an alleyway.
It was at that point that Tashigi registered exactly what she had just said. More specifically, the fact that it wasn't anything she would have ever dared to speak aloud, and that her fluffy partner and fuzzy superior were staring at her like she'd just gone mad.
"…why did I forget her relation to him? WHY!?" she screeched, kicking up a dust cloud as she sped off after the suit-clad woman and shot around the corner.
"100 beris says she's already gone," muttered a nearby Marine.
"No bet," several others around him answered.
"Yeah, for real," Cross nodded in agreement as he leaned in alongside them. "Her scene was finished, so she exited out. 'Skinda her main move, both tonight and normally."
"RAAAAAAGH!" a shriek of indignant fury roared out of the alley.
"Toldja."
The Marines all nodded in agreement before all doing magnificent double-takes at Cross. "Shouldn't you be running?" one of them asked.
"I was," the zombie shrugged in a 'what can you do' fashion. "But then Tashigi fell behind and I was afraid she'd lose my trail, so I decided to hang back for a bit until she was ready to continue."
"CROOOOOSS!"
"Aaaand I'd say that just about does it for fair play! SEEYAH!" And like that, the revenant bolted once more, the sequined 'assistant' hot on his rotting tail.
"So… you bored with this too?" Smoker inquired, gnawing on the cigars he was balancing in his muzzle.
"Mrph," Popora grunted in agreement, preoccupied with digging around in his tophat in search of a carrot. All he managed to withdraw was a potato, prompting a grunt of disgust.
"Thought so. C'mon." The tiger padded away, flicking his tail for the rabbit to follow. "I think I smell some meat this way. Red, too."
"Mmrph!"
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
"COME ON, TASHIGI, YOU CALL THAT A HUSTLE? I'VE SEEN GRANDMOTHERS RUN FASTER THAN YOU, AND HALF OF THEM WERE AS DEAD AS I—WAGH!"
"HOW'S THIS FOR A HUSTLE, PRICK!?"
"ACK! OUCH! SONNUVA—Hey, what are you hacking off?! Is that my torso!? IT IS! OH GOD, SOMEONE, HEL—!"
SLAM!
"Finally!" Finkelstein huffed, wheeling away from the window he'd just slammed shut. "So annoying, I couldn't even hear my own brilliance over all that racket. Now then!...ah, wait…" The patchwork professor popped open his cranium and scratched around his parietal lobe for a moment. "Where was I, where was—?" ZRT! A spark suddenly leapt from lobe to lobe, and he jolted upright in his wheelchair, the movement slamming his skullplate shut. "Ah, yes, now I remember! Assistants!"
A hockey-masked figure leaning on an odd staff and a short half-mechanical creature in aviator goggles, both of them hunched over—with hunches visible in their backs—raised their heads in acknowledgment. They stood - loomed, more like - over a sheet-covered figure on the lab's operating table.
"Yeeeees, master?" they intoned as one. Well, the aviator-costumed one intoned, the hockey-masked one could only let out a muffled mumble.
Professor Finklestein snapped his finger skyward. "Puuuuuull the lever!"
"Yeeeees, master!" the pair droned/groaned once more, reaching up to a lever installed in the wall, yanking it down, and causing the ramshackle machinery lining the lab to sputter and roar to life. Tesla coils jolted, pumps pumped, and lightning flowed through the myriad cables and wires lining the ceiling of the place—
KEE-CRACK!
Before a bolt of pure lightning leaped down and struck the be-sheeted figure.
"Uuuuuh—!"
A figure, which slowly rose to a sitting position upon the slab.
"EEEHAHAHAHA!" Finklestein cackled maniacally, wringing his hands with glee. "It lives! IT LIVES!"
Aaaaand it was at that point that Franky lifted the sheet off his head, cocking his brow at the very much mad scientist. "Yeah, no crap, that's the point. The whole idea here is to figure out how. Was that really necessary?"
That very neatly deflated Dr. Finklestein's mood, and it was a much more subdued man who wheeled himself over. "Scientifically, no, but Jack is very insistent about authenticity and proper procedure and tradition. And frankly, I don't disagree. Either way, now we can begin, so open up and let's take a look!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Merry squealed, zooming up to eagerly circle over Franky. She swept off his sheet so that she could more properly observe his far buffer, far more metallic body. "Your normal body's already cool enough as is, I wanna see how far you'll go in two years!"
"Mm-hm!" Usopp mumbled out in agreement, shooting Franky a thumbs-up… or tried to, anyway. It was hard to make sense of him with the hockey mask strapped over his face, and the hook that had replaced his hand didn't help matters either.
"Yes yes, we're all curious as to how the metal man moveth, so let's not dilly-dally." And with that declaration, the mad Professor shoved the cyborg back down onto the slab. "Now then, I feel I should warn you that I'm unaccustomed to having a test subject like you, Mister… Franky, was it?"
"And what's that mean?" the cyborg asked, grinning as he turned his doubly-thick neck to regard the wheelchair-bound mad scientist. "That you're gonna need to dig out your mechanics textbook for this?"
"Nnnoooo…" Finklestein dragged out, slowly withdrawing a scalpel from his lab coat and testing its blade. "More specifically, I mean I'm unused to working on anything with working nerve endings. Which means that all of my anesthesia's long since passed its expiration date. Which means…"
Finklestein's finger snapped down and jabbed a button on his wheelchair, causing—
SMACK!
—an oversized ceramic hand to rotate down from the ceiling and smack him soundly on the back of the head, a second press of the button repeating the hit and knocking him out properly, barely even allowing him to yelp in surprise.
"Goose-egg's gonna hurt later, but not as much as what we're about to do would've done without it," Finklestein muttered, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of what was about to happen.
"You two don't have any issues with this, do you?"
"Hm… on the one hand, loyalty to my dear and beloved crew and family, whom I cherish above all else… on the other, getting to dig through your lower intestine and see how everything's wired… a hacksaw! Where's a hacksaw! I need a hacksaw!"
"Mmph-mmph!"
The duck-billed mad scientist that could've sent Caesar Clown running for the hills grinned madly. "Ah, so wonderful to finally have competent help. Now then… BEGIN THE OPERATION!"
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
"Y'know, I think I figured out what's bothering me," said a large brown red-cheeked hare as he sipped from a cup of tea.
"About time," snorted a hippopotamus in an oversized top hat, never losing her smirk as she reached for a second cup. "So, is it the fur? The ears? The tail?"
"Honestly, no," the zebra responded, maneuvering a hoof to grab a nearby mug. "Why didn't I get the leading role between the three of us?"
"Oh, that's an easy one: Because you're not as good at laughing as I am! Kyahahahaha!" The hyena punctuated her point by throwing her head back and cackling.
"You're better suited as the March Hare, yes," came the voice of a drowsy mouse swimming in her own pot of tea. Or it may have been a shrew at the moment.
Two snickering witches watched from the head of the table, admiring their work and silently congratulating each other on coming up with the idea.
While a buffet stretched from the pumpkin patch through the town square, the cul-de-sac that housed the Witches' Shop had its own long table with a smattering of guests. Atop an acid green and ghastly grey tablecloth was every manner of drinking vessel, with potion vials as common as teacups. This attraction, while only implemented a few years ago, had gathered a smattering of ghouls every time they did it.
Of course, there were always different motivations for taking part, whether they were seeking fun or a quick makeover. Taking a seat at the other end of the table was a blue-haired crocodile with fury written all over her. The tall witch Zeldaborne raised a brow and came over.
"What's stuck in your jaws? You've got a lovely set of scales there."
She turned to regard her, doing her level best to hold back the inferno in her eyes. Oddly, Zeldaborne felt a sudden gust of wind nearly blow off her hat.
"I intended to represent one of the venerable deities of my country's pantheon. I didn't choose one in particular, and the jackass that dropped me here decided to go with Sobek, when it knows full well how much I would hate being a crocodile. Literally anything else that isn't a reptile, I will take."
And so saying, she grabbed the nearest vial, a blue potion labeled "Mathematician's Assistant," and after a moment of morphological confusion hissed through her new adder's head, reaching for the next one.
"Surprise!" went down next, her tail flicking behind her as she blinked two eyes each bigger than her usual head. "Neksht."
Poof. A turtle head. "Next!"
Poof. A bearded lizard head. "Fuck! Next!"
Poof. The same crocodile head she'd started with. She just rested her head in her arms and took a few deep breaths. This wasn't working.
"Literally anything, hmm? Here, try this 'Essence of Something We Found Beneath the Couch,' then," the shorter witch Helgamine said, proffering a pitch-black vial. "Don't blame me if you end up with too many legs, though."
"I'd rather be a roach than a reptile, I'll take it!" she declared, shotgunning the vial.
Two seconds later, a reptile big enough to tower over all of Halloween Town had upended the table. And nobody was more confused than the witch sisters.
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
In the town's massive pumpkin patch, the beast's sudden appearance drew the attention of several giant figures. Most notably, the Ettin that a pair of ogres had become and a towering specter with glowing eyes, along with eyelids bearing purple eyeshadow and long eyelashes.
"Wonder who that is," Broggy said.
"Not a Marine, but that's all I'd bet," Dorry snorted as he swung his right hand to smack away his left—
"YEOWCH!
—and caused Broggy to pull it back from the oversized mug of pumpkin mead they were enjoying.
"Dang it, you glutton! Let me have some too! What does it matter which one of us eats what, we're sharing a stomach right now!"
"I still like the taste, and we're not sharing tongues," Dorry spat before glaring to the side. "Hmph… I knew we should have gone as Sleipnir instead."
"I would have been an ass if we had!"
"YOU STILL ARE!"
"WHY YOU—!"
"Bosses, please stop!" came the pleas of a Giant-sized hawk and boar, joined by a slightly smaller bear.
"̸O̷r̶ ̷e̶l̷s̶e̷,̸"̷ hissed the Obelisk beside them, in a distinctly peeved feminine voice.
Half in concession to their crew and half from a well-justified fear of whatever Lola's form was capable of, the two heads grimaced at each other. One hand grabbed the mug that they had been fighting over and raised it to Dorry's lips, and the other grabbed a pumpkin that was almost too big for his hand and sliced it in half, raising one half to his head and taking a bite.
"Mmm… you miss out on a lot of good stuff away from the world for a year," Broggy remarked. "Can't remember the last time I had pumpkin."
"I could live happily on beer and meat, but I'd be missing out on too much," Dorry agreed. "Still, I didn't expect to see non-giants enjoying pumpkins the hard way."
It had been quite a surprise to see that many of the locals ate the pumpkins from the outside in rather than the inside out. It was the only way a giant could enjoy a pumpkin given their size, but it was an acquired taste.
"And I didn't expect pumpkin booze. Is there anything they don't have?"
"Not really."
All attention turned to the quiet gardener, a hulking corpse with an axe lodged in his head named Behemoth. His voice was low and slow.
"Pumpkins are the most important food of Halloween. I grow so many every year, we need to be versatile so they don't go to waste. If you like meat, how about our pumpkin chili?"
"Chili?" Broggy and Dorry parroted.
"Let me guess…" The Entity Named Lola opined, cocking an 'eye' at the titanic corpse. "'It's so hot it's scary'?"
"How'd you guess?"
"My family has much the same style of humor."
The giants exchanged looks and almost immediately agreed to change the subject and never ask. Turning back to the gardener, they gave him their winningest smiles.
"Give us the biggest pot you got, then, we'll give the chili a try! There's nothing in the world that's too hot for us!" Broggy declared.
…and right on cue, a jet of flame shot overhead from the general direction of the town.
"…lemme tag a post-scriptum onto that statement," Dorry warily amended.
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
"I guess the name was appropriate after all, I didn't have to do much for this diagnosis," a young girl dressed as a physician deadpanned. Currently, she was soaring above the town on the back of a great and mighty winged lizard with a stomach plated (almost) entirely in gold. "The prognosis: the Barto Club's already frayed survival instincts have withered to almost nothing thanks to the knowledge that nothing they do here will result in death. The primary symptom is the victims trying the absolute stupidest stunts imaginable."
She rammed her heel down on the small of her mount's back. "Like provoking the hell-beast ten times your size with five heads, who was already unstable enough as a human!"
"I took a calculated risk, it's not my fault math has changed in the past millennium! So now I'm leaving before things get messy! Such is life!" the dragon huffed without a shred of remorse.
"That way of life is the entire reason why you need to keep reincarnating to begin with!" the temporary Doolittle sniped. "Honestly, even ignoring the stupidity of getting anywhere near that gold-obsessed dragon while you are covered in gold, what were you even trying to do back there anyways, woo her or rob her?!"
"…both? Both!"
"THAT'S IT!" the diminutive doctor roared, ramming down on the dragon's shoulder and sending him into a tailspin.
"HEY, CAREFUL, CAREFUL!"
"OH, NOW YOU CARE ABOUT CAREFUL!"
The two continued to bicker as they tumbled, uncontrolled, through the air. Naturally, they shoulder-checked a roc flying in the other direction.
"HEY! Watch where you're flying, chapapa!" the roc shrieked after them. Grumbling to himself, he eyed the side of his body, where a large patch of feathers had been disturbed. "On the other hand, finally dislodged that stupid monkey. Doesn't he have anything better to do than gnaw on my wing?"
The chorus of screams that suddenly that wafted up from far below was his answer.
"Whoops…" the roc winced, yanking the zipper on his beak halfway shut. "Hope nobody finds out that was me. Maybe I can blame it on Kumadori, like the time I blamed him for shredding that heartwarming and thoughtful letter Jyabura was gonna deliver to that girl he was trying to woo."
"YOU DID WHAT!?"
"…maybe eating through a straw is worth it after all," he groaned, pulling the zipper the rest of the way shut and flapping frantically through the town's architecture, an airborne werewolf and kabuki actor swimming through the air after him.
He lasted all of three seconds before tugging his mouth open again and taunting his pursuers:
"And for the record, you guys' sorry excuses for 'costumes' still suck Sea King shite!"
"DIE!"
"Worth it!"
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
Sanji's worst nightmare had been the same since he started cooking: no matter how many terrible thoughts crossed his mind, no matter how much he experienced, nothing could be worse than losing his hands or the usage thereof. It said a lot, therefore, that his particular 'mutation' wasn't doing much to slow him down.
"—gently to make it look like a proper web! And make sure that that jack-o-lantern's filling is dry ice, not liquid nitrogen! That's for the grapes!"
Hard to say if that was due to his prodigious skill or that of the particular rat he had become. If the latter, he owed it all to Soundbite.
"SIR, YES, SIR! AND CONIS, MA'AM!" Ever barked, her voice more 'loud' than actually 'angry', even with a gun firmly locked in her arms and ammo belts rattling as she moved. "FOR THE RECORD, I DON'T CARE HOW ORIGINAL THIS IDEA WAS SUPPOSED TO BE, I AM NEVER SWAPPING CLOTHES WITH YOU AGAIN, MA'AM!"
"My dearest apologies, Madame GI Jane, I never dreamed that this could happen. I'm so sorry, and I'll make sure it never happens again," Conis simpered dropping into a quick curtsy - while simultaneously following Sanji's instructions better than she'd ever managed normally. At least being a temporary French maid was good for something other than random word substitutions… and other factors.
"MAYBE STOP CALLING ME THAT?" the army-geared pirate shouted, shoving her helmet up out of her eyes. "MY NAME HASN'T CHANGED, IT'S STILL EVER!"
"Bien sur, Madame."
Or perhaps the two polar opposite women that had volunteered to help him out were the ones due credit.
"My, my," a certain monochromatic woman chuckled as she approached the impromptu kitchen at one side of the buffet. "It seems that you have matters well in paw, Sanji."
"Doing my best with what I have, sweet Robin!" Sanji called in a less-lovestruck-than-normal voice. "But if you'd like to lend me a few hands, I'd be happy! Too many ingredients and not enough finished dishes for a whole town!"
"I can spare some time here, certainly," Robin said, hands sprouting and stirring and setting a cookbook beside the small blue rat. "Incidentally, you might enjoy this book—"
"Pass."
Robin blinked at the distinctly un-lovestruck and unamused chef. She shrugged, pushing the black-and-white book out of sight. Though honestly, she couldn't understand what problem he could have had with the book. To Serve Man, it was quite self-explanatory, wasn't—?
…ooooh. Once Robin recovered from her wince she decided to continue her work, glancing instead at Ever as she yelled again.
"ISN'T THERE ANYTHING MORE ACTIVE THAT I CAN—?"
"HAAAAAAAALP!"
There came a most unexpected sight stampeding by: a dugong-shaped mass of sausages, a bloated swordfish, a brown-skinned boar with an apple in its mouth, and a very large dark brown ungulate with large antlers, followed shortly by a large duck with a head shaped like a teacup, complete with sloshing liquid, and a rather relaxed dugong-shaped mass of salad greens on its back.
Behind these was a large red and blue gorilla with wide eyes and a drooling mouth munching on something as it galloped after them.
And behind him was another giant duck, this one looking rather normal aside from the large gash in his torso and with a look of frustration on his face rather than fear.
"GIMME BACK MY WIVEH, WUFFY!" he barked.
Four bewildered pirates stared after the stampede.
"…Carue dressed up as foie gras, I take it." Sanji deadpanned.
"Oh, dear," Conis said with a shake of her head.
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT… BUT GOOD ENOUGH! I'M GOING APE HUNTING!"
And so she was off, leaving Conis and Robin to aid with the food.
"On the one hand… he's not bothering us," Conis observed.
"On the other, he might actually eat them if we know they won't get hurt," Robin muttered. "And even if they do survive it, they won't stop belly-aching for weeks to come, pardon the pun."
"And for another thing, Braindead Bart'll likely come chasing after Ever if he finds out she's hunting him," Sanji huffed, carefully moving about to taste his dishes.
"Oh, that won't be an issue," Robin chuckled. "The last I saw of him, he was in the graveyard outside of town having a unique spar with Foxy."
That hung in the air for a few moments before Conis turned and tilted her head.
"Madame Ster—er, Robin, would you be so kind as to tell us what their costumes are?"
"I believe I heard something about 'green-faced from drinking insects.' Or it may have been half and half."
Sanji froze in mid-stir and slowly turned a distinctly unimpressed stare on his scarier-than-usual crewmate. "Thank you for all of your help, Robin dear, but I think I'd prefer you help us from… anywhere else. I think we have it from here."
Robin couldn't help giggling at the unamused dismissal.
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
"Scrub that smug smirk from your face, Rooster! And how about that moss from your ears while you're at it!?" Foxy, green-faced and zoot-suited, cackled, his arms stretching like Luffy's and, out of nowhere, producing a pair of giant soapy sponges to rub them against the other ghoul's neck.
"Back off, ya dumb Goat!" the black-and-white striped Bartolomeo shot back, grinning. "Ya wanna talk about dirty living? You're the one who's got bugs in his ears and ants in his pants!"
"Those pants? Bah! I meant to sell them anyway," Foxy scoffed, gesturing to a clothesline where the pants he'd been wearing moments ago were being eaten by ants. "As for the ears, the wax museums needed curators!"
Bartolomeo stared at the magnifying glass Foxy had held up to his ear, showing off a group of gnats getting a tour of cavernous sculptures of wax by a bipedal beetle. His eye twitched.
"What even are your powers right now? Mine at least have a rhyme and reason to them, even if it's nasty and crude. But yours are just—"
"Whatever I need to outfox literally everyone!" Foxy cackled.
"Go get him, Boss," purred Porche the black catwoman, while a luchador flexed supportively beside her.
"Don't worry, Bart, I'm sure you can handle him," drawled Ghin. He leaned back, relaxed, and pulled out some shuriken to spin around his fingers.
"Feel free to help whenever you want!"
Meanwhile, three troublemakers took in the scene from behind a hedge, preparing to jump into the fray themselves. They had some catching up to do after that scary old hag and the pink bunny with her stole their bathtub and started chasing everyone without a pulse.
After filling the tub up with sulfuric acid, of course. In response to their questioning looks, she had just given them a small smirk and said that she was playing a different Cleaner than normal. They wisely decided to cause mischief elsewhere.
"Literally everyone, huh?" a literal imp snickered, devil mask in place and plunger ready in his hand.
"Something tells me he hasn't met the likes of us; we won't be beaten in pranks," agreed a young witch, twirling her broom.
"It's gonna be a challenge, but we're not gonna lose to tourists!" a third boy in a skeleton costume grinned, stretching out his slingshot.
Whatever their planned entry into the escalating prank war was, it would go unseen. A stray herring knocked them overboard altogether, and the three of them only avoided landing in the river by dint of a large web that caught them just above the water's surface.
"Well, well, well…" Soundbite crooned, his grin stretching the very limits of his elastic flesh. "Three young troublemakers, looking to make themselves the biggest, most hated pests in the immediate vicinity? TRULY IT WARMS ONE'S HEART. ...IT ALSO SOUNDS LIKE A challenge. NOBODY IS MORE ANNOYING THAN I!"
"Oh yeah?" the witch leered back, brandishing her broom eagerly. "I've got doubts about that!"
"You think you're more troubling than us?" the boy in the skeleton giggled snidely into his hands. "Yeah, that's a challenge, that's a challenge right there!"
"And there's nothing we do better than doing our worst!" the imp finished, jabbing his pitchfork in defiance. "So go ahead and do yours!"
"JUST FOR THAT, I'm gonna go A LITTLE EASY on you kids," Soundbite decided… before his SMILE all but split his not insignificant bulk in half with sheer teeth. "ONLY A LITTLE BIT, THOUGH!"
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
It was an unfortunately short while after that that a certain insect came across the scraps of fabric that had once been a pair of pants. And a few minutes after that, that bug had summoned other bugs and filled the fabric up enough that it could move on its own.
It was an unfortunate fact that it was impossible to truly kill this entity as long as there were bugs in the world. But he could only be a threat again when he tracked down his henchmen to give him his old body back again.
But the least fortunate part of all of this belonged to that entity. After some searching he found the three little ghouls with their backs to him outside the town gate, where they seemed to be setting up a party.
"Looock? Shooock? Barreeel?" he called, his voice not as deep as he preferred but with enough lilt that they could recognize him. "There you twerps are! What's the big idea, making me wait so long, huh? I got big plans, and for that, I need a bigger body!"
"Ooooh? Is that so, Mister Oogie?" Lock sing-sang, a teasing lilt to his voice, though he didn't turn around. "Man, what a coincidence!"
"Yeah, yeah, a real coinky-dink right there!" Shock concurred, swaying back and forth on her heels. "We've got plans for you too!"
"Only, weeeeell…" Barrel's head turned so that he could shoot his mask's rictus grin at their ex-leader. "Something tells us that you're gonna like our surprise a looooot less!"
They turned, in unison, and Oogie froze as, with matching demonic grins, they brandished spray-pumps whose designs could only mean one thing.
"You… you-you-you ungrateful ingrates!" Oogie roared—or at least squeaked—with indignant fury, drawing himself up to his meager but full height. "You dare to betray me? Me!? HOW DARE YOU!?"
"Oh, it was easy!" Lock chortled.
"We got us a new boss!" Shock cackled.
"He's ten times meaner than you are," Barrel finished. "And a hundred times scarier too!"
"…meaner? Scarier?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?" Oogie really roared this time, puffing himself as big as he could go. Which, consequentially, only made him even more full of hot air than normal. "I'm Oogie Boogie! The boogeyman, the king of the creepy crawlies! And you punks dare to look down on me?! To turn your backs on me for some two-bit shyster!?" He stomped his stubby feet furiously. "Who is he, huh? What does he have that makes you think he's sooo much better than me? What does he got that I don't?"
"For starters? A BIIIIIG MOUTH. AND AN EVEN BIGGER APPETITE TO GO WITH IT!"
The not-even-half-baked boogeyman froze in some unrecognizable emotion at the sound of that ominous voice around him.
"Not to mention," it continued darkly. "The biggest talent for mischief-making and malevolence you've ever seen in a body like this… SINCE ANANSI, ARACHNE, AND LOLTH COMBINED."
At that, an emotion stirred in Oogie's guts that only Jack Skellington had ever been able to provoke: fear. Ever so slowly, he peered upward at the source of the voice.
What he saw was a spider with too-big eyes, too many teeth, and all of the above shining right down at him. And just as he was afraid of, the inherent power he had over anything creepy-crawly was failing.
"WELCOME TO my parlor," Soundbite crooned. "I'll be honest, buddy… I truly think AND SINCERELY HOPE THAT YOU'RE NOT GONNA LIKE IT!"
Oogie looked between the monster above him and the ghouls beside him, not liking his chances either way.
"Oh, RIGHT! Anyone else want in on this ass-whoopin'!?"
THUD! "OF COURSE!"
Oogie didn't even glance at whatever had just landed behind him, instead doing the smart thing and skittering away as fast as he could.
"Aww, HE THINKS HE CAN GET AWAY. That's cute. SIC 'EM, BOYS."
/╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\
"It doesn't seem wise to me for you to invite this much damage upon yourself," the red-haired rag doll going by the name of Sally said. She and a few others were set apart from the party around them while she reassembled a certain zombie thread by thread.
"In my defense? She only went this far because she knew I'd still be alive—for a given value of the word—after all of it," Cross' disembodied head answered.
"And now you're back to zero. Try keeping it that way if you want to enjoy whatever time we have left in this world," Tashigi retorted from her aerial perch above Popora's fluttering paws.
"Is that your only reason?" Sally asked.
"You're wasting your time, ma'am."
The group turned their attention to a neighboring table, an island of calm in the raucous party. They had a chess motif, the one who had spoken resembling a white chess king.
"Agreed," the queen beside him sniffed. "It's nice to see another levelheaded woman, but that young man isn't one to listen to good sense."
"Or if he is, it means we're all in trouble," said a white knight, with the other three pieces nodding beside him.
"And in light of this experience, we count ourselves grateful that he's as restrained as he is," said a skeleton beside them. "Of course, I'm not sure I appreciate the changes."
"Well, for whatever it's worth… I think that your costume is really well done, Captain T-Bone. Excellent definition on the jawbones in particular," the knight said.
"…Drake."
"Yes?"
"I wasn't wearing a costume."
"…ah."
THUNK!
"Yoko?" T-Bone asked, eyeing the girl's boot.
"Here. This oughta be easier to shove in your mouth than your own."
"Hweehweehwee! Coulda just gone with simplicity, y'know? It worked with what it got, that's how Blueno ended up a minotaur and Zoro wound up like that," Lassoo, currently a Saint Bernard, snickered, jabbing his paw at the oni draining a cask of booze. "Just a barrel around the neck was enough for me."
"And fur covering my bottom half was enough that I wound up like this instead of a full giraffe," Kaku, resembling a giraffe centaur, groused.
"I was opposed to wearing this in the first place," Law drawled, his hat clashing with the white avian mask and black trenchcoat he wore. As one red-gloved hand continue tossing the torn-away face of a Clown up and down, he added with a smirk, "But I'll admit, I don't mind it."
"Nice to hear there are so many excuses. Think anyone could spare one for me?!" Yoko griped, yanking out the collar of her coat that, for once, actually fit her perfectly. "Seriously, stupid uniform, why couldn't I grow to fit instead of it shrinking?!"
"Because this is clearly funnier! Hweehweehwee!" Lassoo snickered into his paw, while Funkfreed—woolly and wooden as a literal battering 'ram'—tried in vain to hide his own chuckles.
With a flat expression, Yoko raised her hand and snapped her fingers.
BZZZZZZZZ!
And a moment later, a large structure flew off the city wall and into view. It resembled a miniature battleship, but with a prominent horned bowsprit, oars off of the sides fluttering like wings, and a face on the front that, though clearly painted on, looked very much real.
"Boss? Sic 'em."
"YIPE!" "DUMBASS DOG!"
And with those declarations, the animal-weapons bolted, doing their best to dodge Boss Kabuto's blazing salvos.
"You get the idea they've been spending too much time with me," Cross sing-sang.
"And wouldn't have it ANY OTHER WAY!" another voice sang in agreement.
Attention once again shifted to a whimpering bug-filled cloth that tumbled through the gates, followed closely behind by a familiar trio of misfits. A large spider was on Barrel's head, the latter showing no signs of discomfort. If anything, he seemed downright eager to act as Soundbite's bearer.
The watchers observed the chase as it tumbled on and on, right up to the foot of a pinstriped skeleton.
"Hello, Oogie," came a voice promising even more pain.
"J-J-J-J-Jack!? I-I haven't even done anything this time!" Oogie complained.
"Oh, I know that. I can tell by the fact that nothing's gone horribly yet," the Pumpkin King remarked. "And that isn't going to change tonight."
"Y-Y-You… bunch of party crashers!" he complained.
RINGINGINGINGING!
The skeleton and bug sack looked over to Robin who, ominous as could be, was holding out an old rotary phone. "Call incoming for one Mr. Boogie," she said darkly.
And that was the last straw. With a wail of fear and agony, Oogie tumbled and threw himself into the town's central fountain. And that was the end of his newest body.
"What was that one from?" Cross asked Robin.
"Oh, none of them, I just picked it up off a table as I was wandering." Robin tossed the phone aside without a second glance and an impish smile. "I can't help it if someone jumps to conclusions, now can I?"
"Well, you could, but you're never going to, are you?" Cross smiled right back.
"You know me so well."
"And speaking of knowing you…" Cross cast his gaze out over the town square, taking in the ghoulish and ghastly guests that were now his friends - and technically always had been, depending on who you asked. "Just making sure, but everyone accounted for?"
"Hm…" Robin silently counted down on her fingers before nodding. "Very nearly. The only one who isn't here yet is Perona. I saw her on the edge of the Hinterlands, dressed as the most elegant depiction of Death I've ever—ah." She perked up at the sound of trumpets and guitars. "Speak of the morally neutral personification of the afterlife."
And with that, a parade of skeletons came through the gate. As in, a literal parade, with instruments and costumes and everything! Or, well, as much 'costumes' as they could be when the skeletons were only wearing sombreros, but at least the music was nice.
At the back of the procession and being carried in on a litter was a scarlet-clad skeleton, her face ghostly white and made up to make her skull-like visage far, well, cuter than a skull had any right to be! And all the while, a pair of sheet-like ghostly canines eagerly circled around her.
Noticing the on-looking revenant, Perona—now a literal Ghost Princess—waved at him. "Hey, Cross, send my thanks to your gunner. These two have been the only properly cute things I've had for company since I got here!"
"Good boy, Zero!" Jack called out, waving gleefully. This earned him a gleeful bark from his pet.
"Good show, Su!"
"Eh, not my intended part, but I'll take it," Su shrugged, wheeling through the air. "Personally I'd rather go poltergeist, buuut that field's a bit saturated tonight! Oh well!"
"Oh, this is wonderful, just wonderful! A party that's very much raised the dead, and even death herself! A splendid display, Jack!" the Mayor exulted, hurrying up to the town's patriarch. "This is making for our best Halloween yet!"
"Oh, I agree most utterly, Mayor, it's going to be so successful it's horrifying!" Jack concurred, spinning around and spreading his arms eagerly. "And quite frankly, I just don't think I can wait a moment more! Mayor, my good man, I think it's about time to start the show!"
"NOT AGAIN!" Cross roared… before flinching with a sheepish chuckle. "Ah, aheh, whoops. Sorry, wrong show."
"W-what?!" the Mayor yelped, his expression snapping around to pale and terrified. "Already, Jack? But I thought you said ten hours!?"
"Oh, I did, and I was, but no more~!" Jack cheered, all but breaking out into his dance number then and there. "We'll be starting right here, right now, and we'll be going until our bones fall apart!"
"Yohohoho! And don't worry about material!" Brook concurred, mirroring his doppelganger step for step. "After all, that's what improvisation is for! And if there's one sort of bone in my body I'm full of, it's inspired ones! At least, I certainly hope so, after all—!"
"—he's all bone!" Jack finished for him, the two slinging their arms over one another's shoulders and chortling eagerly. "SKULL JOKE!"
"Oi, where's a crook when you need one?" Soundbite mock-lamented, sending his newly acquired posse into a fit of chortles.
"Weeeeell, in that case…" the Mayor flipped right back around, and beamed eagerly. "On with the show! Music!"
"APAPAPAPA!" cackled Apoo, an octopus with wasabi stalks in his hands, positioned over a DJ's table. "Ready for all of you grim, grinning ghosts!"
"Back-up Dancers!"
"We'll show you our moves, this'll be a great time!" Thing One declared, light glinting off his heart-shaped glasses.
"But still, I can't wait to stop speaking in rhyme!" Thing Two agreed, flexing the castanets his brass knuckles had become.
"Aaaand Maestro?"
"Ghouls and ghasts!" Jack cried out, garnering any straying attention to he and 'himself'.
"Terrors of all ages!" Brook concurred.
"Here beneath this full moon, we have only one thing to say to you all!"
The two Jack Skellingtons, one real and one afro-clad, stepped onto the stage and struck mirroring poses. And as the onlooking crowd cheered and howled their heads off—some even literally—a final declaration rang in the night.
"Happy Halloween… AND ON WITH THE SHOW!"
Cross-Brain AN: Hope you enjoyed it. Perhaps next year, we'll revisit and expand on this. No promises, though~
Last edited:
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Damn you for uploading so late, I need sleeeeep...
Evil M. Lurker
What Lurks at Midnight
- Location
- The City, USA
Time for my mildly unholy Nightmare Before Christmas/Dead Milkmen mashup!
THIS IS HALLOWEEN THIS IS HALLOWEEN I ran over my neighbor
THIS IS HALLOWEEN THIS IS HALLOWEEN It's in all the papers -
(Lurker is hooked offstage before more damage can be done)
THIS IS HALLOWEEN THIS IS HALLOWEEN I ran over my neighbor
THIS IS HALLOWEEN THIS IS HALLOWEEN It's in all the papers -
(Lurker is hooked offstage before more damage can be done)
This is Halloween, This is Halloween... Pumpkins Scream in the dead of night....
- Location
- The Hub
Um just to let you know, but FFN is eating EVERY chapter that's been posted this November.
Sidestory — Decks of the World EX: Pt. 2
Xomniac
Clockwork Purveyor of Prose and Originality
1 Day to the War: Kuraigana Island
Roronoa Zoro, after a few days sparring with the Humandrills, had needed to get away. He'd gone to the belfry of Mihawk's castle, cut down the massive bells, and then tied them all together. That loop of rope had then gone around his chest while his feet were hooked on the heavy support beam.
He was currently up to fifty-seven hanging crunches out of his first set of 100. He focused the entirety of his being on the motion. On the pull of his muscles, on the sweat dripping down his skin, on the rope biting into his chest.
He focused on those things so he didn't have the attention to think of anything else. Not about how his captain was diving feet first into hell to save his brother. Not about how broken Cross had been, his body fairly rattling for all the pieces the events of Sabaody had left him in. Not about his looming training with Mihawk.
And most certainly not thinking about how he hadn't been good enough.
The rope, slick with sweat along with his chest, slipped, and Zoro had just enough time to pull his chin out of the way as the entire set of improvised barbells went crashing down to the floor.
Panting, Zoro flipped himself over the beam and onto the floor. Might as well call that the set. Taking a deep breath, the swordsman went into a series of cooldown stretches.
And all the while, several Humandrills watched, awed, from the belfry windows.
"…damn it. Now I'm thinking again," he grunted angrily. The stretches weren't enough to distract him… well, he could at least control what he thought about. Forget the past, think about the future.
Sighing and closing his eyes, slipping into meditation, his mind ran through what he knew. He refused the possibility of Luffy dying, but in the end, it didn't really matter for his own training whether his captain wound up with an even bigger target on his back or a mental breakdown. Both results meant that everyone standing beside him, especially Zoro himself, needed to be stronger than strong.
But what could he do to push his two years of training further? He had dedicated himself to breaking any limits he had, but Mihawk was the zenith, even by New World standards. Nothing but more time and more practice could improve on whatever Mihawk could teach him, and more time was out of the question.
There was only one solution: he needed to accelerate his growth rate. And now that he put some thought into it… he knew how to do it.
"…oh, brother," Zoro lamented, shaking his head and grinning as Cross's face flashed in his mind. "If this works, I'll be stronger than ever… but it'll be a miracle if I make it back to Luffy." After another moment of thought, he shrugged and chuckled ruefully. "Eh, why the hell not? I've done stupider things for less. Now, which way to his wine cellar?"
And with that, before the bemused eyes of the Humandrills, Zoro clambered onto the belfry's ladder.
And if any of the apes had been near enough to hear what he said, the fact that he was climbing up would have prompted a round of facepalming.
1 Day to the War: Weatheria
Nami scanned over the abstract of the latest paper she was studying. The Extreme Weather department tended to produce writings of one of two kinds: observations on and theories derived from practical experiments and direct study of natural extreme weather…and purely theoretical texts that made even her eyes glaze over. Still, it hadn't taken her long to figure out how to read abstracts to see which was which, which saved her a lot of time and eye strain.
The door creaked open, and she looked up to find Haredas shuffling in, his body language very nervous. "Miss Nami, I understand you're busy with your weather studies, but the budget committee was very interested in the work you did with the Extreme Weather department, so…" Shuffling forward, he dropped a foot-high stack of paper on the table. "Well, they wanted similar savings in all the departments, and, well, I'm sure you know how anyone reacts to having their budget threatened—"
"Done."
Haredas blinked. Twice. Then once more for good measure. "Beg pardon?"
Nami slid over the stack, which had abruptly gotten a fair bit higher with a stapled sheaf of papers. "That'll explain exactly how much each department can cut and how without affecting their operations. Give me a few hours and I can write up some justifications for your department heads explaining exactly what they need to do."
Now Haredas couldn't stop blinking.
"Ah…should we expect this level of promptness regularly?"
"Only when I'm trying to avoid thinking about something else."
Nami looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes bearing an emotion they hadn't carried since her last return to Cocoyasi. Haredas trembled at the chained hatred in her eyes, the look of someone who wanted to destroy everything around her and held back only because of the futility of attempting.
"And for everyone's sake, I hope this is the last time during my stay here."
Wisely, the old man didn't pry and left without another word. Nami returned her attention to the documents before her. But all the while, her eyes kept straying to the snail sitting on the nearby desk.
2 Days to the War: Boin Archipelago
Usopp was about ready to tear his hair out. With how easy it'd been to track down all the bugs on the island he had not been expecting this much trouble earning their help! There had to be a way that he could manage it without dressing up as a giant beetle like Heracles'n; he had some standards!
Not to mention that the damn slimeball would never let him live it down if he did so…
The only good news he'd had was that the giant bugs hadn't attacked him at all. Unfortunately, that was because they were completely fixated on the island's food, oblivious to everything else so long as they were devouring something tasty. Case in point, the one whose head Usopp was jumping up and down on. Completely ignored him in favor of sucking the juice out of a mangrove-sized mango.
Frustrated, Usopp hopped off and stormed off to find another group. It didn't take long; with the amount of food on the island the population density was very high, and Usopp settled in to watch a colony of rhinoceros beetles. Sized the same as actual rhinoceroses.
"All right… so how do I draw their attention without provoking them into attacking me?" Usopp wondered aloud, rubbing his chin.
Heracles watched from a distance, frowning beneath his helmet.
"At least he's not making the same mistake as before'n," he muttered. "But this is not a good place for taming'n."
Heracles had asked why Usopp was so adamant about his plan, and the sniper gave three reasons. First, his crew had a member that could remove the language barrier between humans and animals (he had accepted 'Devil Fruit' as the explanation) and was, to paraphrase his rant, an incorrigible trickster. As such, Usopp wanted to prove he could tame a beast without his help, and the fact that his prospective companions were insects—like said fellow member—was the icing on the cake.
And on less… demented-cackling notes, his other reasons were quite sound as well: second was the fact that a few of his crewmembers had animal companions that boosted their abilities, and he wanted to try it himself. And third, well, the reason one would want a companion of any sort: someone to be there to help and talk with when otherwise alone.
The sole survivor of the island's ill-fated research team wasn't willing to argue with the final point, so he gave whatever help he could.
"What to do, what to—"
"USOPP'N!"
Such as grabbing his new friend's arm before he could shove a chunk of salmon-tree trunk into his mouth.
"Woah-crap!" the sniper yelped, hastily whipping a bottle out of his satchel and dousing his would-be downfall in a crimson sauce.
Usopp gave the food a tentative sniff before snapping his arm out at full length, a pained grimace on his face. Heaving a sigh of relief, he shot a smile at his new mentor. "Thanks, Heracles'n. You just saved me from turning my two steps forwards into twenty pounds back!"
"Uh… yes'n, no problem, but… if I might ask'n?" Heracles indicated the refused food. "What did you just soak that in and why'n?"
"What, this?" Usopp held up the bottle. "Just some of my personal Tabasco blend. Dousing stuff so it's blazing is the best way I could think of to make anything too delicious for me to resist inedible. I don't mind some spice, but so long as it's 'mouth on fire' hot, I'll spit it out for sure."
"Oh, really'n? Do you mind if I…?"
Raising an eyebrow, Usopp tossed the beetle-armored scientist the side of salmon.
"Ah, wonderful, wonderful'n!" Heracles popped open his helmet's mouthplate and eagerly dug in. "Mm, delicious'n! Now this, this is a taste I've missed all these years'n, mm-mm!"
Usopp blinked in surprise. "You… haven't had fish in years? But can't you just pick up… literally any food on this island?"
"Hm? Oh, no'n." Heracles polished off the last of the fish before continuing. "Not the fish, though that was good too'n. No, I was talking about the sauce'n. Haven't had a spiced meal such as that in years'n! You see…"
Heracles straightened, slipping into his newly dusted-off 'lecture mode'.
"Make no mistake, while the Boin Archipelago is indeed capable of producing truly blazing capsaicin-filled foods, peppers from all walks of life, I have yet to see it produce anything in the way of condiments'n. Not surprising when one thinks about it; sauces and the like are not naturally occurring foods, but rather of wholly human origin'n! You know what they say, 'God created food—'!"
"'But the Devil created—' that's it!"
Heracles jolted out of lecture mode to find Usopp lit up with inspiration.
"I've got it, I know how to get those bugs to listen to me! Food is the answer… it just has to be something that they can't find anywhere else on this island! I have an idea, come on, I need ingredients!"
Grunting uncertainly, Heracles followed Usopp through the foliage to find out what he was up to, and if need be, knock him out and lecture him on why it was a bad idea.
Again.
2 Days to the War: Kamabakka Kingdom
Grimacing, Sanji stared up at the okama he was attempting to beat, Juliet by name. Getting one over on him had at first brought the expected, infuriating reaction of smugness to 'her' face, but at this point, she was starting to look upset.
"Sanji-boy, I don't know what's on your mind. But if you're serious about conquering this island, the only things on your mind should be food, fighting, or embracing your inner woman."
A full-body shudder racked the chef at the last point, not helped by the glint he thought he saw in Juliet's eyes. It was that, more than anything, that prompted him to tell the truth before the okama could follow up on that idea.
"It is food that I'm thinking about. Specifically, how my food could end up killing my captain."
Juliet blinked in bewilderment, and Sanji sighed as he struggled to his feet and withdrew a small book from his coat.
"Each of us had the chance to give Luffy something that could twist the odds of saving Ace in his favor. I've been thinking up a recipe like this on and off for the last nine years. Something designed to bring an army of normal people or one superhuman back from the brink of starving to death. But I'm talking about Luffy here…" He flipped to the correct page, groaning at the list of ingredients and the interactions they'd cause. The ones he knew about, anyway. "I warned him, but how likely is it that he'll really listen?"
"Hmm? May I?"
Sanji looked up to find Juliet giving him a curious look. He held out the book, and the okama scanned over the recipe. 'Her' eyes widened.
"My, my. This is a fasc~inating idea, Sanji-boy," crooned Juliet. "I see why it's dangerous, this load of vitamins would poison all but the most dead on their feet individuals!"
"But it would work?" Sanji prompted.
"Oh, yes, it would work. But I think you miscalculated the dosages a tad." Juliet quickly scribbled something on the recipe and handed it over. "Here, this is how dead someone would have to be to safely eat it."
Sanji took the recipe, looked it over, and blanched. "Maaaybe I should've run this by Chopper before making it…" he muttered, before turning to the Okama. "Please tell me you know how I can refine this."
Juliet chuckled, and Sanji had to tamp down on his instincts at what the motion did to her face. "Oh, Sanji-boy: you've come to the exact right okama."
Turning around and bending over (and that nearly killed Sanji right on the spot), the okama rummaged around in a cabinet before pulling out some sort of machine. "Your first step is learning how to use this!"
'This' was an unholy fusion of what looked like an electric mixer, a glass corkscrew, and one of Chopper's chemistry sets. "What is that?" he asked warily.
"A rotary evaporator! It's for preparing distillates and extracts," Juliet answered. "As you've already guessed for your own recipe, such ingredients are key to making such a dish work."
'I'm not sure I like this future of cooking…' Sanji grumbled to himself.
2 Days to the War: Torino Kingdom
Chopper stood in Heavy Point form, panting and exhausted with a look of acute frustration on his face. Behind him were the birds, silent and motionless, and before him were the villagers, who were likewise motionless. For several of them, that was because they were unconscious.
"You were the ones who kept raising those pile bunkers at me whenever I tried to come and explain in peace. I didn't want to resort to violence, but you left me no choice. So, do you get it now? If I or they wanted you dead, you would already be BIRD EXCREMENT. WE ARE NOT TRYING TO KILL YOU, YOU STUPID HICKS!"
Half in fear, half in reserved shame, both mixed with traces of anger the villagers shifted. Chopper sighed, shaking his head.
"Sorry for that last part, but this week has been a nightmare," Chopper grit out, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slowly shrank back to his Brain Point. "Let me… gnnnnrghh… calm… caaaalm down."
The habitually mad doctor considered it progress when nobody took the opportunity that his new diminutive form (seemingly) presented, and decided that he could speak sanely again. Albeit in a forced calm.
"Now… let's. Start over. My name is Tony Tony Chopper. I am a reindeer who ate the Human-Human Fruit, which lets me understand both humans and animals. The birds aren't after your food, your weapons, or your lives, they just like shiny things. Give them what they want, and the problem goes away. You can even barter with them if you want to collect some of the herbs from the treetops."
Several villagers exchanged looks. Hesitantly, one of them moved to a nearby house and emerged shortly afterward with a golden goblet, holding it out questioningly. The birds' eyes lit up and they nodded eagerly.
"Good," Chopper sighed, about ready to keel over in relief. "Now, as for me… I'm a doctor. I was sent here because I'd heard about your advances in herbology and I'm very interested to learn more. I'd like to compare my notes with yours. Especially about one particular plant."
Very carefully, Chopper extracted a small safe from his backpack. Twisting the lock, he revealed a flower with a Q-shaped bulb.
Recognition flashed in many of the natives' eyes. And after several seconds of stunned silence… one of them fainted, foaming at the mouth.
"That's about the reaction I expected, yes," Chopper dryly remarked.
1 Day to the War: Tequila Wolf
It was, in theory, the perfect hiding spot. Security on the great bridge was, understandably, focused on the construction areas, where slaves could escape and sabotage could be done. There were a thousand and one places where you could set up a little hidden base where nobody would go until the bridge was opened for traffic. In this case, the vanguard of the Revolutionaries had rather easily set up a hidden staircase leading to a hidden room underneath the bridge.
Of course, to someone experienced in covert ops it was about as obvious as the Straw Hats on a mission. Or someone who had a hundred eyes and ears that they could deploy at the drop of a hat. Or someone who knew that they were there.
…bottom line, Robin found them almost effortlessly, a smile on her face and a knife in her hand. No need to make enemies if she didn't need to, of course, but she wasn't about to take any chances—
Yeah, no, she was stringing them along for the fun of it.
Muffling a chuckle, she crossed her arms and manifested an arm in a hidden corner of the small base, the limb sprouting an ear.
"—like a bat out of hell. You ever seen him that motivated?"
"No, never. Well, maybe that one time when Koala got most of her clothes blown off in training."
"Ouch, yeah, I remember that. Didn't think bones could be broken so many times. At once, I mean."
Robin smirked at the mental image that conjured.
"Alright… but the ETA of the main body remains unchanged?" one of them asked.
"More or less," the CO answered. "We got one supplementary order in light of Nico Robin's appearance: if she makes contact with us—only if she makes contact with us, not the other way around—we can accelerate our plans if we consider it worth it."
A sigh came from inside.
"Of course, if she hasn't contacted us yet, she's either not planning on letting us in on her plans or she's just screwing around with us."
"She is Cross's sister," the other one huffed. "She's aware of us, that's certain, so she'll make contact at some point. Though honestly, no idea why we can't be the ones to initiate contact."
"Simple, really."
"YEARGH!"/ "SONNUVA SAINT!" the Revolutionaries howled as one as the World-infamous 'Devil Child' abruptly appeared between them. They tried to go for their weapons, but that was a non-starter due to Robin 'holding' them over a foot away from their reach.
"The last time footsoldiers of an organization were searching me out, I did terrible things. Simply…" Robin hissed in a tense breath through her teeth. "Unspeakable, things. And over the years, doing that to anyone who seeks me out has become something of a habit. Which, I imagine, your superiors wanted to spare you from. Honestly, you should thank them. Very much."
"We will, we totally will!"
"We'll buy Koala a gift basket! Ten of them, no, a hundred, just don't hurt us!"
And as the Revolutionaries pleaded on bended knee for her mercy, utterly terrified of her very presence, Robin tilted her head with a contented hum.
"Hm… I'll be honest: despite the tragic circumstances?" she mused to herself, an impish smile upon her face. "I do believe I'm going to quite enjoy the next two years."
Her smile remained in place for a few moments before she sighed, her smile and intimidating aura fading away.
"Before anything else, I trust that you have a Visual snail," she said quietly.
Grimly, one of the soldiers looked towards a section of the room with a screen on the wall and a snail dozing nearby. Robin took a seat on the weathered sofa before it and settled in to wait.
She had distracted herself as long and as efficiently as she could. But the war was upon them now.
And above all else, she needed to know how it would end.
Everyone would.
2 Days to the War: Baldimore
The opening of Vegapunk's lab was something of a momentous occasion, Franky joined by the island council and a large portion of the armed islanders. After all, when opening the long-closed lab of a Mad Scientist, you could never be too careful about the possibility of Abominations of Science that might have survived the long confinement. They tended to be extra ravenous in such cases.
Thankfully, no such Abominations of Science came galloping out to munch on delicious morsels, and after a moment everyone relaxed.
"Well," said one of the councilmen. "I'd wish you good luck, but frankly I'm still not sure how I feel about the concept of you succeeding in your endeavors. Honestly, it would save us considerable trouble if you got blown up."
"Yeah, that's fair. You are not the first person to want that," Franky chuckled with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But, they didn't get their wish and you won't either. I'll see you guys for the first supply run. After I've bumped up the temperature a dozen degrees."
And with that promise, Franky strode into the crucible of the world's foremost genius.
The first thing that struck him was how unweathered everything was. A lab sealed this long, it was only natural to expect some decay, but no, it was as pristine as Vegapunk had left it.
But, as much as Franky was equally impressed and disturbed by the unnatural cleanliness, first things came first. And so, the cyborg set about mapping the place. He wasn't Nami, but you didn't become a shipwright without a good head for spacing, and in any case, he was probably better at enclosed spaces than her. Mostly, though, he got a sense for just how gigantic the laboratory was. The main chamber was reasonable, but there were corridors stretching all across the facility to maintain that island-wide heating system. And that was without mentioning the slew of storage areas squirreled away he had a feeling he hadn't found yet.
Finally, his search culminated when he came to a squirreled-away room whose wall most prominently featured a large, square button with a skull and crossbones on it. "Oh, hey, a pirate symbol!" Franky said, reaching out to touch it.
But no sooner had his hand brushed the button than a memory niggled at the back of his mind. Frowning, he reached into the bag Merry-sis had gifted him and pulled out a note Cross had left him. Most of it was recommendations on how to get stronger, simple enough suggestions really, and quite a few he thought he could implement, but there was one section that had been written in bold, all-caps, underlined multiple times, and was three times the size the rest of the handwriting:
"AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, FRANKY, DO NOT PRESS THE SQUARE BUTTON WITH THE SKULL AND CROSSBONES. IT IS THE SELF-DESTRUCT BUTTON, NOT A 'PIRATE BUTTON' OR WHATEVER NONSENSE YOU WERE THINKING. DID YOU LEARN NOTHING FROM CHOPPER TELLING YOU HIS BACKSTORY!?"
…Yeah, that was pretty clear. But really, did he have to go overboard like that?
It was at that moment that Franky became acutely aware of the fact that his fingers were still touching the top of the button.
…alright, so maybe Cross had under-sold it a bit…
Very reluctantly, Franky put away the letter and started to turn away from the button. But before he could do so fully, he paused as a thought occurred to him. "Honestly…" he muttered himself, turning a wary eye back on the button. "No clue why Vegapunk lived with something like that in this place, but no way am I stupid enough to do it!" He reached for the cables leading out of the button and its panel. "Alright, let's see, how can I kill this thing stone—eh?"
The pirate blinked in surprise as, in the process of shifting aside the button's cables, he found another button, covertly hidden out of sight unless someone knew… where to look…
Franky's eyes widened as he looked from the hidden button to the overt one. "Camouflage the real way into your real lab… okay, I'll admit, now I think he's pretty clever." His face broke out into a massive grin. "But not clever enough to fool me! Inner sanctum, here I come!"
And with that, he poked the button without a second thought. Immediately, a false wall slid away a few feet to the side, revealing a heavy steel door, which promptly sprouted a 9-square keypad.
Oh, yeah, and a hideously loud alarm started blaring.
"This laboratory will self-destruct in 60 seconds," an electronic voice stated.
"…okay, maybe he is clever enough to fool me," Franky deadpanned. No, no doubt about it, Cross definitely hadn't gone overboard enough. But he could mull over that thought when he wasn't in danger of being blown up!
Shooting over to the keypad, Franky saw the bottom-left button light up. He quickly pressed it. The bottom-left lit up, followed by the center-right, and Franky pressed them in sequence too. This continued until the fourth set when he aimed a little too high and hit the wrong button. Miraculously, the mountain didn't detonate at the mistake… but the fact that the buttons reset to zero was a close second.
"Stupid sausage fingers…" Franky muttered as he went back to it, twice as fast as before.
Finally, he finished the fifth sequence, and the keypad slid away…
At which point a chime drew his attention to a card reader on another wall, mercifully close to what looked to be a discarded wallet on a nearby table. Franky grabbed the wallet as he dashed over to the new device, rifling through to find a card, and then pulled it out and hastily swiped it through.
"Too fast. Try again," the machine droned.
Growling, Franky slowed down his swipe.
"Too slow. Try again."
"Oh, are you SUPER kidding—!" He swiped it again.
This time it worked. But the door was still locked, and the alarm still blaring. A scan around the room showed that there was another keypad on the door now, a normal alphanumeric one. A glance at the card he was holding showed a simple 5-digit code. How much time did he have left?!
In all likelihood, not enough to waste looking for anything else. He sprinted back to the door, jammed in the code, held his breath—!
"—two, on—self-destruct system disarmed. Well done. Welcome back, Doctor."
The cyborg let out an explosive sigh, falling back onto the lab's floor. He waited a moment, and then, with no forthcoming threats of detonation or immolation, allowed himself to catch his breath.
"I can't start upgrading soon enough…" Franky wheezed miserably, weakly pounding his fist against his chest. "Because damn do I need a new heart, this one's shot…"
1 Day to the War: Namakura Kingdom
Sancrin and his Longarm henchmen had a slight air of unease as they proceeded again to the village of Harahettania. The unease for what should have been a routine snatch-and-grab came from the way the world had quaked mere days ago. Even with the news of the looming war taking precedence, the damage that those pirates had wrought upon the slavery industry was irreversible. That didn't immediately paint a target on his back, but kidnapping was one step away, meaning allies to his cause would soon be in very short supply. He didn't deal with slaves, no, just ransom, but he knew that wouldn't earn him any mercy if anyone decided he needed to be put down. Or if some overzealous pirate was looking for pocket change even, seeing as that seemed to be the direction the world was going!
The world was changing, and that meant that Sancrin's racket needed to change with it. The only question was how…
Sancrin shook off his doubts and affixed his usual cocksure grin as the gloomy village came into view. Questions like that could wait for later. For now, he had a pack of easy marks to rip off. Granted, this may well have to be his last raid, but he wasn't worried. He would just need to hope that he could find one or two people that could pass as a golden goose this go, and then—wait, what?
"Wait, what?" Sancrin froze as he realized the clear path to his next paycheck wasn't as clear as it should have been. Literally.
The Long-Armed bandits warily eyed the figure coming towards them from the village. Very tall, very thin, and clad in one of the black robes that the villagers had taken to wearing over the last month or two. The face beneath the hood, however, it appeared to be a genuine skull. But that wasn't possible—
"I've been expecting you."
His voice had just enough chill that they found themselves hesitating. And that hesitation turned to genuine fear when he drew a sword out of the cane he was carrying.
"Are you the feckless scoundrels who've been robbing these people blind?" the hooded entity droned, holding his blade at the ready. "Taking them for all they're worth, stealing their friends and family in return for coin, leaving them praying for mercy and salvation from whatever source they might find?"
Sancrin swallowed heavily, sweat coursing down his face. Now he knew just what kind of demon he was dealing with, and though he knew it was a foolish move he knew that this time, lying would only make things worse. And so, he uttered out the best answer he could manage. "…maybe?"
The figure was before them as soon as the word left his lips, unmistakably skeleton hands seizing around the Long-Arms' wrists.
"Good. You're coming with me."
Sancrin felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest, he wasn't ready to die, HE WASN'T—
"Actually, my mistake: I meant to say that I am coming with you. Hold these, would you."
His heart kept pounding, almost not believing his eyes when they told him that instead of any deadly actions with that sword, the skeleton had instead thrown traveling bags into his flunkies' hands.
"Thank you in advance for carrying my baggage. Now, shall we depart?"
"Ah, w-wait, what?!" Sancrin blurted out, trying to wrap his head around this turn of events. "What the hell are you—!?"
"HURRAY! HE'S DONE IT!"
"—eh?" The Long-Arm was cut off by a wave of cheering, turning to see the cowardly villagers he'd been planning on ripping off assembled and applauding, showing more energy than in the entire time he'd been screwing them over.
"THE DEMON LORD HAS DEFEATED THE BANDITS! HUZZAH!"
"OH MIGHTY DEMON LORD! WHAT SHALL YOUR HUMBLE SERVANTS DO NOW!?"
"GO SOAK YOUR HEADS!" the skeleton-man roared back at them, starting to stomp away from the village, and then spinning right back around and jabbing his bony finger up at them. "AND COME UP FOR AIR, YOU MORONS!"
He snapped his head back around to snarl at the Long-Arms. "Get me the hell away from these people before I throttle them."
Very confused and more than a little nervous, the bandits obliged. When the village was out of sight and the skeleton let out a sigh of relief, Sancrin thought it was safe to speak up.
"Uh… who exactly are you?"
The bony visage turned towards him once more.
"All you need to know for now is that I am someone who can help make you very rich. We will discuss the finer details when…" The skeleton faltered momentarily, before turning away and marching down the road. "When the war ends."
There was a grim finality in his tone, and Sancrin decided against pressing his luck, particularly when he was starting to suspect that it was, in fact, finally starting to turn for the better.
And so, once Sancrin signaled for his boys to not bash the skeleton's skull in with his own luggage, they set off back to their base in silence.
2 Days to the War: Alabasta
King Nefertari Cobra laid in his bed, rubbing at tired eyes. Worry of what the Government could have sent—with no indication of what it was yet—had been a source of additional stress to him over the last week, and his health had finally given out.
He was unhappy about being relegated to bedrest, but the fastest way to get past it was to oblige. Closing his eyes, he was just beginning to doze…
"…Daddy?"
When he sat bolt upright in bed, wincing when the action pulled at aching muscles. He strained his ears, listening for the voice he had heard. "Vivi?" he asked tentatively. He'd had that particular experience dreaming far too many times to count, but still, he couldn't help but ask each time, hoping each time he would get an answer.
And this time, he did.
"…Hi, Daddy."
For one second, he was frozen. Then, thoughts of his illness forgotten, he threw the covers off and made to run for the door. "Vivi! Gods above, what are you—!?"
"Stop!"
He stilled with his feet on the floor. That was definitely his daughter's voice, but she sounded on the verge of tears. And for her to tell him to stop, after months-
"Please… Father, please, please don't open the door. I… being here, hearing your voice… already feels like I'm being torn in half, I-I can't see your face right now," she pleaded, and it was clear that she was crying.
That revelation left Cobra reeling, still trying to process what he was hearing, but the idea of it… Shoving that thought processed, he reprioritized, focused on understanding what he could. For starters…
"…Vivi… how are you here?" Cobra breathed, steadying himself against the doorframe. Then he froze. "Wait. Bartholomew Kuma? You were the one he sent here?"
"…yes. Carue too," Vivi said after a moment, her voice still shaking. "He's… it's a long story, but he… he used his powers. Scattered us all across the world. Cross saw it coming. The crew needs to train before they can enter the New World, so Kuma sent everyone to the best place for them to grow stronger. And I… I ended up here."
Cobra's heart clenched at the sheer pain she packed into that one word. "And now… you feel torn because you want to stay here, but feel obligated to return?"
Vivi let out a gasping sob. "…That's just it, Daddy," she whispered. "Cross's note… he said that Luffy gave his full permission for me to leave the crew and come back to Alabasta if I wanted to. I…I'm home. I can stay, I…I…"
And that was apparently as far as Vivi could get. Cobra heard a thump, probably her collapsing to her knees, and she just… quietly cried.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do!" she wailed. "I… how am I supposed to choose? I have two groups of people that I love, that love me… that want me, if not need me… and both of them are telling me that they'll be fine with whatever I choose? I… the only reason I'm here and talking to you at all… is that I've been driving myself insane over the last week. Father…what am I supposed to do?"
Cobra raised a hand to his head, shaking it. Telling her he would be happy whatever she chose was the source of her conflict, that wouldn't be of any help. He exhaled softly.
"…how much time do you have, Vivi?" he asked gently.
"T-Two years. Th-The crew meets back on Sabaody Archipelago in two years," she answered just as softly.
A long time, but it was clear that Vivi was suffering now, and that to fight with herself over this would be nothing short of torture. No, what was needed was to remove the pressure of the choice. Once and for all.
The doors abruptly shuddered, and he realized that his daughter's crying was starting to be undercut with a howling wind.
Cobra swallowed audibly. Not only did he need to calm his daughter down for her own sake, but for the sake of avoiding the mother of all sandstorms as well!
"Vivi," Cobra pressed, doing his best to keep the nascent fear he felt out of his voice. "I know that you've grown into a wonderful, selfless young woman. You've dedicated your life to doing what's best for your home. Tell me… what are your reasons for considering the Straw Hats so strongly?"
There was no bite or accusation in the words. Even still, Vivi choked on another sob.
"I can do so much good, I can help so many people—!"
"And they're your friends."
"And they're my friends and I want to stay with them so much because I love traveling with them and I want to be with them to the very end!" wailed, both with her voice and with the wins.
Cobra winced at the adverse reaction, but continued, "Vivi, you're tearing yourself apart because your two choices are telling you two different things, so let me say this clearly so that you know what to do. Vivi…" The king paused, struggling with what he was about to say, with what he knew he had to say. "I want you to stay a Straw Hat."
"Daddy—!"
"Vivi, my beautiful, wonderful princess," he interrupted, "Your love for our country is boundless, but honestly, your faith is sorely lacking. No matter how you might fret or worry, Alabasta has stood strong and undaunted for eight hundred years now. We can survive without you for a while longer. Be it a few years, be it even a decade, we know that you'll come back eventually. And when you return, you will come bearing years of experience that will make you a greater ruler than myself or any of our ancestors who have come before us.
"But until then… Vivi, you've made me the proudest father alive because unlike so many other unworthy pretenders who bear your title, you have been nothing but selfless all your life. You have put your country, your people, and even your average fellow man above yourself, every step of the way. But now… for once… I'm asking you to take the easy path. To take the simple choice. Vivi, please, just this once… choose yourself."
The gales began to calm, slowly. When the door stopped vibrating, Cobra spoke again.
"You're here for now, Vivi. You will have plenty of time with us before you return to them. And when the time comes, you will leave of your own volition. Not to escape from an unjust law, but to help your friends who will need you. And when your journey is finished, we will still be here for you."
Silence fell on the room. Cobra held his breath as it stretched on, and on. "Vivi…?"
The door flew open, Vivi soaring into the room and embracing her father, carrying him down to the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks but a watery smile came over her face. "I missed you so much, Daddy!" she sobbed, her wavering voice ecstatic.
"And I missed you, Vivi," Cobra replied, tears streaming down his own cheeks as he held his daughter close. And for that brief moment, in spite of the world falling to pieces, in spite of the catastrophe looming on the horizon… all was right with life.
2 Days to the War: Eden's Cinders
Su sat in the darkness, eyes closed but ears open, monitoring Conis' breathing. She hated this, hated that she was planning to abando—leave Conis, even for a short while. But they'd gotten situated—the old bunker they were in was as secure as anything they'd found or were likely to find—and she was anxious to seek out clues to the Children of Inari.
Giving it a few more minutes to ensure Conis was truly asleep, Su stood and, with one last guilty look at her friend, padded for a small gap in the bunker wall. Too small for any human. Not too small for a small cloud fox.
Ooor a grenade. She'd need to remember to conceal the outside of this passage on her way out.
But right as Su poked her head into the hole, she heard a muffled whimper and froze. Slowly, she turned around to find Conis shaking, more of the muffled whimpers slipping out. Su glanced back at the hole, back to Conis, and then back to the hole, a toxic mix of emotions swirling in her gut.
And then one of Conis' hands reached out, blindly grasping at nothing, a burn scar shining on her palm as she grabbed at her phantoms. "N-No… don't… Don't take him away…Please…"
Su stared for a few seconds more before letting her head loll down with a groan. [Fuck it,] she spat. [The Children of Inari have hidden here for centuries, they can wait a few days more.]
Spinning on her paws, she padded back over to Conis, carefully climbed over her, and nestled herself into her friend's arms.
From the tight squeeze she promptly endured (and relished), she knew she'd made the right choice.
2 Days to the War: Davy Jones' Locker
"Inventive."
"Not bad."
"I'm still confused… how is she going to use the corkscrew and electric eel again?"
"You'll find out~"
"…"
The silence spoke volumes, and the contents were music to Merry's ears. A little time, a lot of company, and a big target for her frustration had done wonders for her panic and fear. The first day had been enough to get a grasp on the situation - and stoke a burning rage that wouldn't burn out anytime soon. Over the following two days, she considered and discarded various plans. And after four days of preparation, she was as ready as she would ever be for the clash.
She just hoped that it would be enough, because going at them head-on, however much she was tempted to do so, was not a good idea. Even by her crew's standards.
When the fallen vessels of the Locker had told Merry of the real intruders into this sanctuary of the naval lifecycle, Merry hadn't expected to find much trouble. Maybe some overzealous salvagers like Masira's band, maybe some juvenile Sea Kings or other that were nosing around the wrecks, looking for corpses to chow down on. Either way, simple enough matters for her to run off.
What Merry hadn't counted on was finding a full-blown Fishman pirate war camp anchored at one of the coral trees!
Not an outpost, not a supply depot, a war camp. With barricades, buildings, supplies by the boatload, a sizeable operation established to strip down the fallen ships that should have been enjoying their well-earned rests, and all manned by plenty of well-armed fishmen who were, if not as battle-hardened as they could have been, undeniably well-organized. And more infuriatingly well-established.
And there wasn't anything she could do about that immediately, either. Her advantage was in the element of surprise and the fact that she, and nobody else, could hear the voices of this wasteland of scrap and use them to evade and navigate without any issue. Step out of that and onto their turf? Well… there was a reason that the crew's fight against an army of fishmen wasn't happening until after they trained. Even for her, it was no simple feat: proportional strength of a caravel meant jack all in the face of someone who could crush her like a damp cracker without even breaking a sweat.
But still, the challenge didn't deter Merry even an inch. She couldn't use her strength to dominate? That was perfectly fine, her crew didn't always. Or at least, only relied on brute strength most of the time. And if there was one thing that Merry had inherited from her crew, it was the ability to be a pest risen from the depths of hell.
And there was one group of schmucks oh-so-kindly breaking away from the pack! Merry grinned like a shark that spotted a bare behind and flipped up the translucent and very ghostly veil she'd salvaged from an old passenger ship. Then she followed them.
As the salvagers picked their way through the wrecks, Merry flitted along beside them, picking her route to give them tantalizing glimpses through the holes rotted in the wrecks. And it did a very good job, too. After ten minutes or so, the fishmen had their heads on a swivel, clearly at least mildly unnerved.
Time for stage two.
The fishmen were picking their way around a wreck to a spot with a ship wedged broadside in front of them. Merry scurried over to that ship, and clambered up onto the railing, fully visible.
"You… who have desecrated this sacred place of rest. Long have you caused suffering for the souls entombed here. No longer! I am the Drowned Lady, and I speak for the ships: Leave this place and never return!"
Merry knew she cut a very spooky figure. Aside from the veil, she'd scrounged up a stringy, water-damaged auburn wig and a ratty white shift. Combined with some improvised stilts it both made her look bigger and also made her move quite a bit different from human norms. So she was just a little disappointed that the fishmen, though clearly spooked, decided to charge and attack rather than flee in terror.
Only a little, though, because charging and attacking was probably the better outcome for her long-term plan.
Merry hopped off the ship she was on, wincing at the crashing noises coming from behind her as the fishmen smashed through the old hull. At least that old-timer was actually a corpse instead of just retired, further proved when she heard the tell-tale creak and crash and muffled swearing of the ship collapsing around their ears.
A pause to let them catch sight of her again, and the chase was back on. Now that they were being cautious, Merry gave them the slip by diving into an opening too small for anyone much bigger than her. From there, she watched and waited to coordinate the perfect moment with the nearby ships.
Her opportunity came sooner than she ever expected.
"Oh, waitwaitwait, Marianne's Fury, they're getting close to you!" she giggled malevolently. "Running, running, ruuuunning... aaand!"
BLAM! And just like that, the air was filled with the sounds of both panic and agony.
"SUDDENLY PINEAPPLES, OH YEAH! THANK YOU, USOPP!" Merry cackled before going right back on the observation, her grin stretching from ear to ear. "Oooh, I'm gonna have fun with this! Oh, Height of Glory! Off your starboard bow!"
CRACK! "MY LEG!"
"MWAHAHA! Nasty!"
3 Hours to the War: Sabaody Archipelago
Boss Dugong yawned, sitting up on the lawn of the Thousand Sunny. He'd gone to sleep after the last attack the night before, entrusting the watch to the rotating cast of Flying Fish riders that had enthusiastically volunteered for the task. He ran through his morning stretches, limbering himself for the battles to come, and waddled over to the side. His students had elected to sleep onshore to minimize reaction time.
Then he actually saw his students, and knew that at least one of them hadn't slept at all.
Sighing, he Rip Tided from the deck to the shore, appearing in front of Mikey, who despite his bloodshot stare didn't flinch.
[Mikey, what the hell are you doing.]
[Oh, I was on first watch,] the young dugong answered. [Raphey said she'd take over for me in four hours.]
Boss regarded his student with a very flat and mildly disbelieving look. [Mikey, it's morning.]
[Oh,] the dugong said. [Permission to pass out right now, sir?]
[Granted,] Boss grunted, at which point Mikey keeled over flat on his face and began loudly snoring.
After taking a moment to ensure his student was comfortable, Boss waddled over to the rest of his students, lightly dozing in the grass, took a deep breath, and—
[OHHHHHHH- IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP TIME TO WAKE UP TIME TO WAKE UP NOOOO~OOOOW! IT'S TIME TO—!]
[We're awake, we're awake!] the three no-longer-sleeping dugongs shouted as they leapt to their tails.
[Good,] Boss nodded, before putting on his best 'disappointed' voice. [What was not good was leaving Mikey up all night on watch! Not because it was mean, which it was, but because he was completely useless five hours in! I'd have thought we'd had enough night attacks for you lot to realize that!]
Leo and Raphey looked appropriately sheepish. Donny, on the other hand, raised a flipper and said, [In my defense, I got outvoted.]
Boss narrowed his eyes. [And you didn't wake up Mikey anyway because…]
[I drew the long straw to not have a watch at all.]
Boss nodded again. [Understandable. Regardless, get your tails moving, you three!]
[Yes, Boss!] his students yelped gratifyingly.
As they scampered off, Boss was struck by the sudden feeling that he was forgetting something. And not the sort of something you could just shrug at, something important. Something about the passage of time.
Before he could remember, however, he spotted a Flying Fish Rider out the corner of his eye, tearing towards the Sunny like his ass was on fire. The rider skidded down to the ground, a wild look in his eyes, and with a start, Boss realized he hadn't seen any of them on guard duty like usual.
"Boss Dugong, what are you doing here?!" the rider demanded.
Boss blinked. {Guarding the ship? What else would I be doing?}
The rider opened his mouth, then closed it, muttering to himself, "Oh, right, if anything would make him forget it would be all the attacks they've had to deal with…"
Okay, now this was just getting ridiculous. {Forget what? Speak up and stop muttering, boy!}
"Fire Fist's execution!"
And just like that, Boss went deathly still. Of course. The execution. How could he have lost track of the date? Oh, wait, the rider was still talking.
"The Government snuck onto the archipelago, set up screens in some of the public squares with vis-snail feeds! Everyone's declared a truce!"
A truce… that made sense. Unfortunately, he doubted that everyone left on the island had enough honor to abide by it. As much as he wanted to, they couldn't all go.
No sooner had he thought that than his students blurred into existence in front of him, all wearing pleading expressions. They didn't even need to say anything.
[Go,] Boss said. [I'll guard the ship. And don't forget to take Mikey with you.]
They all nodded somberly and clambered onto the flying fish's back, Raphey none-too-gently throwing Mikey's unconscious form on.
[ONE MORE THING!]
The three conscious dugongs looked back at him to see him fighting a grimace. Actually thankful for once that Soundbite wasn't around, he shouted, [Nobody ever finds out that we forgot. Fights or no fights, I don't want anyone thinking that everyone from Alabasta forgets life-threatening information.]
The three of them winced and nodded. Boss watched them fly off, a grim feeling in his heart.
'So Plan A failed. And Plan B… sorry, boys, but this is going to be rough.'
1 Hour to the War: ■■■■■■■
In the shadows of the world, for a brief and fleeting moment, there was peace.
Not a single movement, not a single sound, not a single sign of either life or death. Simply an absolute sense of nothingness.
And then, in the deepest part of that nothingness, two eyes cracked open. Eyes that were filled with fear and terror, darting about frantically in search of anything and everything that might be looking to end their bearer's life.
And as the eyes blinked and stared into the nothingness, that very same terror intensified at something that only they could perceive.
"Cross," a quiet, quavering voice rasped out. "Something's happening. I… the world is, it's… everything is tensing. Readying. Holding its breath… I can feel it, Cross. It's time."
Silence returned for a few seconds. Then, a second pair of eyes cracked open. And these eyes weren't scared. And nor were they angry, sad or… anything, really. Instead, the eyes just displayed exhaustion. A bone-deep lack of energy, with only the barest hint of concern for anything else.
But that 'hint' was enough. The tiniest wisp of a flame sparked to life in those eyes, and they narrowed.
And slowly, a vindictive glower rose up, and stared into the nothingness.
"…then let's get to it. Everybody to their places. It's time to raise the curtain… on the final act."
And in that nothingness, a single sound rang out…
CLICK!
Which, in turn, triggered the final death knell of the current world.
A knell heard all around the globe… and that had been heard so often before.
"Don don don don! Don don don don!"
Cross-Brain AN: No more trolling; Cross is back, and his next broadcast is going to turn the world upside-down. As for his location? Well… here's a hint for when you'll finally find out. Remember what we asked at the start of Impel Downfall: Who can say exactly what goes on in Hell? And the answer is…
.
.
.
…why, it's the Divine and the Damned, of course.
12 Hours to the War: Impel Down
Tensions were running high in Impel Down, for which nobody could blame the staff. At any second now, they expected to hear that their prisoners had begun the jailbreak attempt of the century, and that was if they didn't try to be subtle about it at first.
Momonga had found himself stationed close to the top of the prison, hovering around the top side of the passage between Levels 2 and 3, and the beasts on the floor wisely gave him a wide berth.
All save for the Minotaurus, who was giving him a notable leer whenever he paced near enough. And a few hours of putting up with that was all that the Vice Admiral could take. Ensuring that he kept to the proper passageways, he stalked over to where Sadi stood at the ready, her scowl deepening when he arrived.
"Your displeasure at the situation is one thing. But since neither of us wants me to be here, would it be too much to ask for you to tone down your animosity? If you need to vent, then by all means, you can use me."
Raising a brow and beginning to smile, she lifted her whip.
"Verbally, you deranged cow."
"Tch. Prude…" Sadi groused, but she didn't lower her whip. Instead, she snapped her attention to the side, causing all the prisoners within her line of sight to tense in terror. "But while the thought is on my mind… guards, the keys."
Momonga watched with antipathy as the Floor's guards opened the doors to about a dozen cells and prodded the prisoners out into the open, where they were surrounded by the Beast Hell's slavering denizens.
"Alright darlings~, here's the deal!" Sadi barked out, voice equal parts playful and menacing. "Anyone who doesn't suck and suffer the most and manages to amuse me enough for the next few minutes doesn't get their rations cut in half! Sooo basically, usual game night rules! Have fun~! GET TO IT!" And with those last words belted out, she cracked her whip—
"GROOOOAR!" "AAAARGH!"
—and screaming and rapid footfalls filled the air. Background music that only a torturer could love.
Case in point, Sadi was visibly calmer when she turned back to Momonga, her expression (or the half that could be seen) as sober as Momonga had ever seen it.
"When you get down to the bones of it, our world's justice system is simple: catch the criminals, convict the criminals, punish the criminals, all while protecting the ones who abide by the law," she summarized. "And while we here in Impel Down do keep up with the news, we haven't had much reason to focus on the activities of the Navy or the Government. Not for centuries. Not until the SBS began."
Momonga's eyes narrowed, and a far too familiar headache bloomed in the back of his skull.
"The first broadcast? That merely had our interest. A strange piece, but at least it was an interesting diversion. But once Cross decided to guarantee himself a penthouse suite in the deepest pits of living hell we could manage, we've made a point of not missing so much as a single broadcast, no matter how trivial. And after cross-referencing it with the newspapers and by asking the prisoners that we've received the right questions… Well." Sadi's lips twisted in a vicious scowl. "You can imagine that we were quite concerned that for once, a pirate mouthing off about the injustice of the World Government wasn't speaking out of his ass."
Momonga's already attentive posture somehow became even tenser, and he leveled a full-blown glower at the Chief Guard. "That. Is a very dangerous opinion to have."
Never mind that it was one that he himself had been entertaining over the past week. And by the slight lengthening of her face as if she were raising an eyebrow, she had heard what happened to Level 3's abomination. After a moment, he spoke again.
"Assuming that your opinion has some basis," he said, choosing his words carefully. "You realize what living by it would mean. Not only in the context of your own life, but your occupation. How can you be so composed about that statement of yours…" His gaze turned to regard the moshpit of violence that was ongoing mere feet away. "When it means that even as we speak, you could be responsible for the torture and suffering of innocent people.
In direct contrast to Momonga's lengthy deliberation, Sadi didn't even take a second before responding with a flat "Meh," and waving him off dismissively. "That's no concern of mine."
"No…?" Momonga stared at her, only the last vestiges of his discipline keeping him from going the extra mile of gaping at her.
"No concern, yes," Sadi confirmed, casually inspecting her nails. "Obviously, I'm not going to intentionally inflict mind-warping aaaagony~ upon innocent people, mmmm~ but even you must understand how effectively a wolf can make itself look like the most innocent lamb that ever sailed the seas. We wouldn't make any attempt to stop someone who we knew to be innocent from leaving, but that kind of certainty could only come if someone had been born here. We are jailers and enforcers. It has never been our job to act as judge, jury, nor even executioner. The burden of proof, innocence, and now guilt?" She casually waved her hand in his direction. "That's always been yours."
"And if you want to talk about innocence? I have words on the subject."
Both spun to find Domino standing behind them, a crossbow in one hand.
"Impressive stealth," Momonga muttered.
"I have to keep up with the likes of Mistress Sadi and Hannyabal somehow, and psychological terror is one of the many fields we practice in our domain. Now." She flicked her glasses up, catching the light just so. "If I may continue?"
"By all means," the Vice Admiral invited.
"Then as I was saying, it is rare but possible for prisoners to appeal to us. If they make a sufficiently convincing case, we submit a report to issue them a retrial." Domino's professional frown twitched down in disapproval. "A process that has done nothing to help the Government's case. Nobody in living memory has ever had their case overturned… that is, until we had almost a dozen successful appeals during the last four months. A time period that just happens to be the exact length of time those very retrials have ceased being conducted upon Enies Lobby. But even then, with any failed retrial our job has always been to assume that they're very skilled liars and punish them accordingly. And that the World Government bears incontrovertible proof of their guilt, justifying whatever happens to them as a result."
She then slid past them. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just passing through. I need to fetch more poisoned bolts, just in case."
Sadi harrumphed slightly before looking back at Momonga.
"As Little Miss Oh-So-Perfect explained, Impel Down is a prison. It has never been in our job description to verify the innocence of every person brought here when. Even if Cross is right, the majority of our prisoners are guilty as charged. There's never been a case of a member of our staff knowing with certainty that the person in question was innocent. If there were, we would not stop them from leaving. We are those who have dedicated ourselves to making criminals' lives a living Hell. And you are the ones that are supposed to be dedicated to making sure innocent people never end up here."
Her frown deepened. "My 'displeasure' with the situation, as you put it before, is how deep the problem runs. There will always be mistakes in the process, and they're not our responsibility. But when it comes to something like this… this much evidence, this much proof that the problem is deliberate, endemic to the point that the World Government is no longer trustworthy…"
She stepped close to him, enough that he could see traces of her eyes through her locks. And of the unholy fury that burned in them.
"I hope you realize I'm only telling you this much because I can see the same feelings in your eyes," she hissed, almost twice as sultry as she was menacing. "Because things going that far now, as they have, has made us feel something that we haven't felt in centuries. That we never should have been given cause to feel. A little emotion called… rebellion."
"And you… do not see any problems with confessing such a thing to a Vice Admiral?"
"Oh, of course not~! After all, if I thought for even one second that you would make an issue of this…"
A heavy hand fell on Momonga's shoulder, and he tensed furiously as an air-rumbling growl rippled out from behind him.
"Then you'd be dead where you stand."
She chuckled and turned her back to him.
"I am very good at perceiving pain. And I can see clearly, no torture I could muster now would be worse than how much your sense of honor is shredding you from the inside out. And it is simply marvelous~"
The conversation ended there, and after a minute, Momonga returned to his post more frustrated and conflicted than when he had left. And the tense confrontation before he left the prison three hours later did nothing to make him feel better.
Roronoa Zoro, after a few days sparring with the Humandrills, had needed to get away. He'd gone to the belfry of Mihawk's castle, cut down the massive bells, and then tied them all together. That loop of rope had then gone around his chest while his feet were hooked on the heavy support beam.
He was currently up to fifty-seven hanging crunches out of his first set of 100. He focused the entirety of his being on the motion. On the pull of his muscles, on the sweat dripping down his skin, on the rope biting into his chest.
He focused on those things so he didn't have the attention to think of anything else. Not about how his captain was diving feet first into hell to save his brother. Not about how broken Cross had been, his body fairly rattling for all the pieces the events of Sabaody had left him in. Not about his looming training with Mihawk.
And most certainly not thinking about how he hadn't been good enough.
The rope, slick with sweat along with his chest, slipped, and Zoro had just enough time to pull his chin out of the way as the entire set of improvised barbells went crashing down to the floor.
Panting, Zoro flipped himself over the beam and onto the floor. Might as well call that the set. Taking a deep breath, the swordsman went into a series of cooldown stretches.
And all the while, several Humandrills watched, awed, from the belfry windows.
"…damn it. Now I'm thinking again," he grunted angrily. The stretches weren't enough to distract him… well, he could at least control what he thought about. Forget the past, think about the future.
Sighing and closing his eyes, slipping into meditation, his mind ran through what he knew. He refused the possibility of Luffy dying, but in the end, it didn't really matter for his own training whether his captain wound up with an even bigger target on his back or a mental breakdown. Both results meant that everyone standing beside him, especially Zoro himself, needed to be stronger than strong.
But what could he do to push his two years of training further? He had dedicated himself to breaking any limits he had, but Mihawk was the zenith, even by New World standards. Nothing but more time and more practice could improve on whatever Mihawk could teach him, and more time was out of the question.
There was only one solution: he needed to accelerate his growth rate. And now that he put some thought into it… he knew how to do it.
"…oh, brother," Zoro lamented, shaking his head and grinning as Cross's face flashed in his mind. "If this works, I'll be stronger than ever… but it'll be a miracle if I make it back to Luffy." After another moment of thought, he shrugged and chuckled ruefully. "Eh, why the hell not? I've done stupider things for less. Now, which way to his wine cellar?"
And with that, before the bemused eyes of the Humandrills, Zoro clambered onto the belfry's ladder.
And if any of the apes had been near enough to hear what he said, the fact that he was climbing up would have prompted a round of facepalming.
-o-
1 Day to the War: Weatheria
Nami scanned over the abstract of the latest paper she was studying. The Extreme Weather department tended to produce writings of one of two kinds: observations on and theories derived from practical experiments and direct study of natural extreme weather…and purely theoretical texts that made even her eyes glaze over. Still, it hadn't taken her long to figure out how to read abstracts to see which was which, which saved her a lot of time and eye strain.
The door creaked open, and she looked up to find Haredas shuffling in, his body language very nervous. "Miss Nami, I understand you're busy with your weather studies, but the budget committee was very interested in the work you did with the Extreme Weather department, so…" Shuffling forward, he dropped a foot-high stack of paper on the table. "Well, they wanted similar savings in all the departments, and, well, I'm sure you know how anyone reacts to having their budget threatened—"
"Done."
Haredas blinked. Twice. Then once more for good measure. "Beg pardon?"
Nami slid over the stack, which had abruptly gotten a fair bit higher with a stapled sheaf of papers. "That'll explain exactly how much each department can cut and how without affecting their operations. Give me a few hours and I can write up some justifications for your department heads explaining exactly what they need to do."
Now Haredas couldn't stop blinking.
"Ah…should we expect this level of promptness regularly?"
"Only when I'm trying to avoid thinking about something else."
Nami looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes bearing an emotion they hadn't carried since her last return to Cocoyasi. Haredas trembled at the chained hatred in her eyes, the look of someone who wanted to destroy everything around her and held back only because of the futility of attempting.
"And for everyone's sake, I hope this is the last time during my stay here."
Wisely, the old man didn't pry and left without another word. Nami returned her attention to the documents before her. But all the while, her eyes kept straying to the snail sitting on the nearby desk.
-o-
2 Days to the War: Boin Archipelago
Usopp was about ready to tear his hair out. With how easy it'd been to track down all the bugs on the island he had not been expecting this much trouble earning their help! There had to be a way that he could manage it without dressing up as a giant beetle like Heracles'n; he had some standards!
Not to mention that the damn slimeball would never let him live it down if he did so…
The only good news he'd had was that the giant bugs hadn't attacked him at all. Unfortunately, that was because they were completely fixated on the island's food, oblivious to everything else so long as they were devouring something tasty. Case in point, the one whose head Usopp was jumping up and down on. Completely ignored him in favor of sucking the juice out of a mangrove-sized mango.
Frustrated, Usopp hopped off and stormed off to find another group. It didn't take long; with the amount of food on the island the population density was very high, and Usopp settled in to watch a colony of rhinoceros beetles. Sized the same as actual rhinoceroses.
"All right… so how do I draw their attention without provoking them into attacking me?" Usopp wondered aloud, rubbing his chin.
Heracles watched from a distance, frowning beneath his helmet.
"At least he's not making the same mistake as before'n," he muttered. "But this is not a good place for taming'n."
Heracles had asked why Usopp was so adamant about his plan, and the sniper gave three reasons. First, his crew had a member that could remove the language barrier between humans and animals (he had accepted 'Devil Fruit' as the explanation) and was, to paraphrase his rant, an incorrigible trickster. As such, Usopp wanted to prove he could tame a beast without his help, and the fact that his prospective companions were insects—like said fellow member—was the icing on the cake.
And on less… demented-cackling notes, his other reasons were quite sound as well: second was the fact that a few of his crewmembers had animal companions that boosted their abilities, and he wanted to try it himself. And third, well, the reason one would want a companion of any sort: someone to be there to help and talk with when otherwise alone.
The sole survivor of the island's ill-fated research team wasn't willing to argue with the final point, so he gave whatever help he could.
"What to do, what to—"
"USOPP'N!"
Such as grabbing his new friend's arm before he could shove a chunk of salmon-tree trunk into his mouth.
"Woah-crap!" the sniper yelped, hastily whipping a bottle out of his satchel and dousing his would-be downfall in a crimson sauce.
Usopp gave the food a tentative sniff before snapping his arm out at full length, a pained grimace on his face. Heaving a sigh of relief, he shot a smile at his new mentor. "Thanks, Heracles'n. You just saved me from turning my two steps forwards into twenty pounds back!"
"Uh… yes'n, no problem, but… if I might ask'n?" Heracles indicated the refused food. "What did you just soak that in and why'n?"
"What, this?" Usopp held up the bottle. "Just some of my personal Tabasco blend. Dousing stuff so it's blazing is the best way I could think of to make anything too delicious for me to resist inedible. I don't mind some spice, but so long as it's 'mouth on fire' hot, I'll spit it out for sure."
"Oh, really'n? Do you mind if I…?"
Raising an eyebrow, Usopp tossed the beetle-armored scientist the side of salmon.
"Ah, wonderful, wonderful'n!" Heracles popped open his helmet's mouthplate and eagerly dug in. "Mm, delicious'n! Now this, this is a taste I've missed all these years'n, mm-mm!"
Usopp blinked in surprise. "You… haven't had fish in years? But can't you just pick up… literally any food on this island?"
"Hm? Oh, no'n." Heracles polished off the last of the fish before continuing. "Not the fish, though that was good too'n. No, I was talking about the sauce'n. Haven't had a spiced meal such as that in years'n! You see…"
Heracles straightened, slipping into his newly dusted-off 'lecture mode'.
"Make no mistake, while the Boin Archipelago is indeed capable of producing truly blazing capsaicin-filled foods, peppers from all walks of life, I have yet to see it produce anything in the way of condiments'n. Not surprising when one thinks about it; sauces and the like are not naturally occurring foods, but rather of wholly human origin'n! You know what they say, 'God created food—'!"
"'But the Devil created—' that's it!"
Heracles jolted out of lecture mode to find Usopp lit up with inspiration.
"I've got it, I know how to get those bugs to listen to me! Food is the answer… it just has to be something that they can't find anywhere else on this island! I have an idea, come on, I need ingredients!"
Grunting uncertainly, Heracles followed Usopp through the foliage to find out what he was up to, and if need be, knock him out and lecture him on why it was a bad idea.
Again.
-o-
2 Days to the War: Kamabakka Kingdom
Grimacing, Sanji stared up at the okama he was attempting to beat, Juliet by name. Getting one over on him had at first brought the expected, infuriating reaction of smugness to 'her' face, but at this point, she was starting to look upset.
"Sanji-boy, I don't know what's on your mind. But if you're serious about conquering this island, the only things on your mind should be food, fighting, or embracing your inner woman."
A full-body shudder racked the chef at the last point, not helped by the glint he thought he saw in Juliet's eyes. It was that, more than anything, that prompted him to tell the truth before the okama could follow up on that idea.
"It is food that I'm thinking about. Specifically, how my food could end up killing my captain."
Juliet blinked in bewilderment, and Sanji sighed as he struggled to his feet and withdrew a small book from his coat.
"Each of us had the chance to give Luffy something that could twist the odds of saving Ace in his favor. I've been thinking up a recipe like this on and off for the last nine years. Something designed to bring an army of normal people or one superhuman back from the brink of starving to death. But I'm talking about Luffy here…" He flipped to the correct page, groaning at the list of ingredients and the interactions they'd cause. The ones he knew about, anyway. "I warned him, but how likely is it that he'll really listen?"
"Hmm? May I?"
Sanji looked up to find Juliet giving him a curious look. He held out the book, and the okama scanned over the recipe. 'Her' eyes widened.
"My, my. This is a fasc~inating idea, Sanji-boy," crooned Juliet. "I see why it's dangerous, this load of vitamins would poison all but the most dead on their feet individuals!"
"But it would work?" Sanji prompted.
"Oh, yes, it would work. But I think you miscalculated the dosages a tad." Juliet quickly scribbled something on the recipe and handed it over. "Here, this is how dead someone would have to be to safely eat it."
Sanji took the recipe, looked it over, and blanched. "Maaaybe I should've run this by Chopper before making it…" he muttered, before turning to the Okama. "Please tell me you know how I can refine this."
Juliet chuckled, and Sanji had to tamp down on his instincts at what the motion did to her face. "Oh, Sanji-boy: you've come to the exact right okama."
Turning around and bending over (and that nearly killed Sanji right on the spot), the okama rummaged around in a cabinet before pulling out some sort of machine. "Your first step is learning how to use this!"
'This' was an unholy fusion of what looked like an electric mixer, a glass corkscrew, and one of Chopper's chemistry sets. "What is that?" he asked warily.
"A rotary evaporator! It's for preparing distillates and extracts," Juliet answered. "As you've already guessed for your own recipe, such ingredients are key to making such a dish work."
'I'm not sure I like this future of cooking…' Sanji grumbled to himself.
-o-
2 Days to the War: Torino Kingdom
Chopper stood in Heavy Point form, panting and exhausted with a look of acute frustration on his face. Behind him were the birds, silent and motionless, and before him were the villagers, who were likewise motionless. For several of them, that was because they were unconscious.
"You were the ones who kept raising those pile bunkers at me whenever I tried to come and explain in peace. I didn't want to resort to violence, but you left me no choice. So, do you get it now? If I or they wanted you dead, you would already be BIRD EXCREMENT. WE ARE NOT TRYING TO KILL YOU, YOU STUPID HICKS!"
Half in fear, half in reserved shame, both mixed with traces of anger the villagers shifted. Chopper sighed, shaking his head.
"Sorry for that last part, but this week has been a nightmare," Chopper grit out, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slowly shrank back to his Brain Point. "Let me… gnnnnrghh… calm… caaaalm down."
The habitually mad doctor considered it progress when nobody took the opportunity that his new diminutive form (seemingly) presented, and decided that he could speak sanely again. Albeit in a forced calm.
"Now… let's. Start over. My name is Tony Tony Chopper. I am a reindeer who ate the Human-Human Fruit, which lets me understand both humans and animals. The birds aren't after your food, your weapons, or your lives, they just like shiny things. Give them what they want, and the problem goes away. You can even barter with them if you want to collect some of the herbs from the treetops."
Several villagers exchanged looks. Hesitantly, one of them moved to a nearby house and emerged shortly afterward with a golden goblet, holding it out questioningly. The birds' eyes lit up and they nodded eagerly.
"Good," Chopper sighed, about ready to keel over in relief. "Now, as for me… I'm a doctor. I was sent here because I'd heard about your advances in herbology and I'm very interested to learn more. I'd like to compare my notes with yours. Especially about one particular plant."
Very carefully, Chopper extracted a small safe from his backpack. Twisting the lock, he revealed a flower with a Q-shaped bulb.
Recognition flashed in many of the natives' eyes. And after several seconds of stunned silence… one of them fainted, foaming at the mouth.
"That's about the reaction I expected, yes," Chopper dryly remarked.
-o-
1 Day to the War: Tequila Wolf
It was, in theory, the perfect hiding spot. Security on the great bridge was, understandably, focused on the construction areas, where slaves could escape and sabotage could be done. There were a thousand and one places where you could set up a little hidden base where nobody would go until the bridge was opened for traffic. In this case, the vanguard of the Revolutionaries had rather easily set up a hidden staircase leading to a hidden room underneath the bridge.
Of course, to someone experienced in covert ops it was about as obvious as the Straw Hats on a mission. Or someone who had a hundred eyes and ears that they could deploy at the drop of a hat. Or someone who knew that they were there.
…bottom line, Robin found them almost effortlessly, a smile on her face and a knife in her hand. No need to make enemies if she didn't need to, of course, but she wasn't about to take any chances—
Yeah, no, she was stringing them along for the fun of it.
Muffling a chuckle, she crossed her arms and manifested an arm in a hidden corner of the small base, the limb sprouting an ear.
"—like a bat out of hell. You ever seen him that motivated?"
"No, never. Well, maybe that one time when Koala got most of her clothes blown off in training."
"Ouch, yeah, I remember that. Didn't think bones could be broken so many times. At once, I mean."
Robin smirked at the mental image that conjured.
"Alright… but the ETA of the main body remains unchanged?" one of them asked.
"More or less," the CO answered. "We got one supplementary order in light of Nico Robin's appearance: if she makes contact with us—only if she makes contact with us, not the other way around—we can accelerate our plans if we consider it worth it."
A sigh came from inside.
"Of course, if she hasn't contacted us yet, she's either not planning on letting us in on her plans or she's just screwing around with us."
"She is Cross's sister," the other one huffed. "She's aware of us, that's certain, so she'll make contact at some point. Though honestly, no idea why we can't be the ones to initiate contact."
"Simple, really."
"YEARGH!"/ "SONNUVA SAINT!" the Revolutionaries howled as one as the World-infamous 'Devil Child' abruptly appeared between them. They tried to go for their weapons, but that was a non-starter due to Robin 'holding' them over a foot away from their reach.
"The last time footsoldiers of an organization were searching me out, I did terrible things. Simply…" Robin hissed in a tense breath through her teeth. "Unspeakable, things. And over the years, doing that to anyone who seeks me out has become something of a habit. Which, I imagine, your superiors wanted to spare you from. Honestly, you should thank them. Very much."
"We will, we totally will!"
"We'll buy Koala a gift basket! Ten of them, no, a hundred, just don't hurt us!"
And as the Revolutionaries pleaded on bended knee for her mercy, utterly terrified of her very presence, Robin tilted her head with a contented hum.
"Hm… I'll be honest: despite the tragic circumstances?" she mused to herself, an impish smile upon her face. "I do believe I'm going to quite enjoy the next two years."
Her smile remained in place for a few moments before she sighed, her smile and intimidating aura fading away.
"Before anything else, I trust that you have a Visual snail," she said quietly.
Grimly, one of the soldiers looked towards a section of the room with a screen on the wall and a snail dozing nearby. Robin took a seat on the weathered sofa before it and settled in to wait.
She had distracted herself as long and as efficiently as she could. But the war was upon them now.
And above all else, she needed to know how it would end.
Everyone would.
-o-
2 Days to the War: Baldimore
The opening of Vegapunk's lab was something of a momentous occasion, Franky joined by the island council and a large portion of the armed islanders. After all, when opening the long-closed lab of a Mad Scientist, you could never be too careful about the possibility of Abominations of Science that might have survived the long confinement. They tended to be extra ravenous in such cases.
Thankfully, no such Abominations of Science came galloping out to munch on delicious morsels, and after a moment everyone relaxed.
"Well," said one of the councilmen. "I'd wish you good luck, but frankly I'm still not sure how I feel about the concept of you succeeding in your endeavors. Honestly, it would save us considerable trouble if you got blown up."
"Yeah, that's fair. You are not the first person to want that," Franky chuckled with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But, they didn't get their wish and you won't either. I'll see you guys for the first supply run. After I've bumped up the temperature a dozen degrees."
And with that promise, Franky strode into the crucible of the world's foremost genius.
The first thing that struck him was how unweathered everything was. A lab sealed this long, it was only natural to expect some decay, but no, it was as pristine as Vegapunk had left it.
But, as much as Franky was equally impressed and disturbed by the unnatural cleanliness, first things came first. And so, the cyborg set about mapping the place. He wasn't Nami, but you didn't become a shipwright without a good head for spacing, and in any case, he was probably better at enclosed spaces than her. Mostly, though, he got a sense for just how gigantic the laboratory was. The main chamber was reasonable, but there were corridors stretching all across the facility to maintain that island-wide heating system. And that was without mentioning the slew of storage areas squirreled away he had a feeling he hadn't found yet.
Finally, his search culminated when he came to a squirreled-away room whose wall most prominently featured a large, square button with a skull and crossbones on it. "Oh, hey, a pirate symbol!" Franky said, reaching out to touch it.
But no sooner had his hand brushed the button than a memory niggled at the back of his mind. Frowning, he reached into the bag Merry-sis had gifted him and pulled out a note Cross had left him. Most of it was recommendations on how to get stronger, simple enough suggestions really, and quite a few he thought he could implement, but there was one section that had been written in bold, all-caps, underlined multiple times, and was three times the size the rest of the handwriting:
"AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, FRANKY, DO NOT PRESS THE SQUARE BUTTON WITH THE SKULL AND CROSSBONES. IT IS THE SELF-DESTRUCT BUTTON, NOT A 'PIRATE BUTTON' OR WHATEVER NONSENSE YOU WERE THINKING. DID YOU LEARN NOTHING FROM CHOPPER TELLING YOU HIS BACKSTORY!?"
…Yeah, that was pretty clear. But really, did he have to go overboard like that?
It was at that moment that Franky became acutely aware of the fact that his fingers were still touching the top of the button.
…alright, so maybe Cross had under-sold it a bit…
Very reluctantly, Franky put away the letter and started to turn away from the button. But before he could do so fully, he paused as a thought occurred to him. "Honestly…" he muttered himself, turning a wary eye back on the button. "No clue why Vegapunk lived with something like that in this place, but no way am I stupid enough to do it!" He reached for the cables leading out of the button and its panel. "Alright, let's see, how can I kill this thing stone—eh?"
The pirate blinked in surprise as, in the process of shifting aside the button's cables, he found another button, covertly hidden out of sight unless someone knew… where to look…
Franky's eyes widened as he looked from the hidden button to the overt one. "Camouflage the real way into your real lab… okay, I'll admit, now I think he's pretty clever." His face broke out into a massive grin. "But not clever enough to fool me! Inner sanctum, here I come!"
And with that, he poked the button without a second thought. Immediately, a false wall slid away a few feet to the side, revealing a heavy steel door, which promptly sprouted a 9-square keypad.
Oh, yeah, and a hideously loud alarm started blaring.
"This laboratory will self-destruct in 60 seconds," an electronic voice stated.
"…okay, maybe he is clever enough to fool me," Franky deadpanned. No, no doubt about it, Cross definitely hadn't gone overboard enough. But he could mull over that thought when he wasn't in danger of being blown up!
Shooting over to the keypad, Franky saw the bottom-left button light up. He quickly pressed it. The bottom-left lit up, followed by the center-right, and Franky pressed them in sequence too. This continued until the fourth set when he aimed a little too high and hit the wrong button. Miraculously, the mountain didn't detonate at the mistake… but the fact that the buttons reset to zero was a close second.
"Stupid sausage fingers…" Franky muttered as he went back to it, twice as fast as before.
Finally, he finished the fifth sequence, and the keypad slid away…
At which point a chime drew his attention to a card reader on another wall, mercifully close to what looked to be a discarded wallet on a nearby table. Franky grabbed the wallet as he dashed over to the new device, rifling through to find a card, and then pulled it out and hastily swiped it through.
"Too fast. Try again," the machine droned.
Growling, Franky slowed down his swipe.
"Too slow. Try again."
"Oh, are you SUPER kidding—!" He swiped it again.
This time it worked. But the door was still locked, and the alarm still blaring. A scan around the room showed that there was another keypad on the door now, a normal alphanumeric one. A glance at the card he was holding showed a simple 5-digit code. How much time did he have left?!
In all likelihood, not enough to waste looking for anything else. He sprinted back to the door, jammed in the code, held his breath—!
"—two, on—self-destruct system disarmed. Well done. Welcome back, Doctor."
The cyborg let out an explosive sigh, falling back onto the lab's floor. He waited a moment, and then, with no forthcoming threats of detonation or immolation, allowed himself to catch his breath.
"I can't start upgrading soon enough…" Franky wheezed miserably, weakly pounding his fist against his chest. "Because damn do I need a new heart, this one's shot…"
-o-
1 Day to the War: Namakura Kingdom
Sancrin and his Longarm henchmen had a slight air of unease as they proceeded again to the village of Harahettania. The unease for what should have been a routine snatch-and-grab came from the way the world had quaked mere days ago. Even with the news of the looming war taking precedence, the damage that those pirates had wrought upon the slavery industry was irreversible. That didn't immediately paint a target on his back, but kidnapping was one step away, meaning allies to his cause would soon be in very short supply. He didn't deal with slaves, no, just ransom, but he knew that wouldn't earn him any mercy if anyone decided he needed to be put down. Or if some overzealous pirate was looking for pocket change even, seeing as that seemed to be the direction the world was going!
The world was changing, and that meant that Sancrin's racket needed to change with it. The only question was how…
Sancrin shook off his doubts and affixed his usual cocksure grin as the gloomy village came into view. Questions like that could wait for later. For now, he had a pack of easy marks to rip off. Granted, this may well have to be his last raid, but he wasn't worried. He would just need to hope that he could find one or two people that could pass as a golden goose this go, and then—wait, what?
"Wait, what?" Sancrin froze as he realized the clear path to his next paycheck wasn't as clear as it should have been. Literally.
The Long-Armed bandits warily eyed the figure coming towards them from the village. Very tall, very thin, and clad in one of the black robes that the villagers had taken to wearing over the last month or two. The face beneath the hood, however, it appeared to be a genuine skull. But that wasn't possible—
"I've been expecting you."
His voice had just enough chill that they found themselves hesitating. And that hesitation turned to genuine fear when he drew a sword out of the cane he was carrying.
"Are you the feckless scoundrels who've been robbing these people blind?" the hooded entity droned, holding his blade at the ready. "Taking them for all they're worth, stealing their friends and family in return for coin, leaving them praying for mercy and salvation from whatever source they might find?"
Sancrin swallowed heavily, sweat coursing down his face. Now he knew just what kind of demon he was dealing with, and though he knew it was a foolish move he knew that this time, lying would only make things worse. And so, he uttered out the best answer he could manage. "…maybe?"
The figure was before them as soon as the word left his lips, unmistakably skeleton hands seizing around the Long-Arms' wrists.
"Good. You're coming with me."
Sancrin felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest, he wasn't ready to die, HE WASN'T—
"Actually, my mistake: I meant to say that I am coming with you. Hold these, would you."
His heart kept pounding, almost not believing his eyes when they told him that instead of any deadly actions with that sword, the skeleton had instead thrown traveling bags into his flunkies' hands.
"Thank you in advance for carrying my baggage. Now, shall we depart?"
"Ah, w-wait, what?!" Sancrin blurted out, trying to wrap his head around this turn of events. "What the hell are you—!?"
"HURRAY! HE'S DONE IT!"
"—eh?" The Long-Arm was cut off by a wave of cheering, turning to see the cowardly villagers he'd been planning on ripping off assembled and applauding, showing more energy than in the entire time he'd been screwing them over.
"THE DEMON LORD HAS DEFEATED THE BANDITS! HUZZAH!"
"OH MIGHTY DEMON LORD! WHAT SHALL YOUR HUMBLE SERVANTS DO NOW!?"
"GO SOAK YOUR HEADS!" the skeleton-man roared back at them, starting to stomp away from the village, and then spinning right back around and jabbing his bony finger up at them. "AND COME UP FOR AIR, YOU MORONS!"
He snapped his head back around to snarl at the Long-Arms. "Get me the hell away from these people before I throttle them."
Very confused and more than a little nervous, the bandits obliged. When the village was out of sight and the skeleton let out a sigh of relief, Sancrin thought it was safe to speak up.
"Uh… who exactly are you?"
The bony visage turned towards him once more.
"All you need to know for now is that I am someone who can help make you very rich. We will discuss the finer details when…" The skeleton faltered momentarily, before turning away and marching down the road. "When the war ends."
There was a grim finality in his tone, and Sancrin decided against pressing his luck, particularly when he was starting to suspect that it was, in fact, finally starting to turn for the better.
And so, once Sancrin signaled for his boys to not bash the skeleton's skull in with his own luggage, they set off back to their base in silence.
-o-
2 Days to the War: Alabasta
King Nefertari Cobra laid in his bed, rubbing at tired eyes. Worry of what the Government could have sent—with no indication of what it was yet—had been a source of additional stress to him over the last week, and his health had finally given out.
He was unhappy about being relegated to bedrest, but the fastest way to get past it was to oblige. Closing his eyes, he was just beginning to doze…
"…Daddy?"
When he sat bolt upright in bed, wincing when the action pulled at aching muscles. He strained his ears, listening for the voice he had heard. "Vivi?" he asked tentatively. He'd had that particular experience dreaming far too many times to count, but still, he couldn't help but ask each time, hoping each time he would get an answer.
And this time, he did.
"…Hi, Daddy."
For one second, he was frozen. Then, thoughts of his illness forgotten, he threw the covers off and made to run for the door. "Vivi! Gods above, what are you—!?"
"Stop!"
He stilled with his feet on the floor. That was definitely his daughter's voice, but she sounded on the verge of tears. And for her to tell him to stop, after months-
"Please… Father, please, please don't open the door. I… being here, hearing your voice… already feels like I'm being torn in half, I-I can't see your face right now," she pleaded, and it was clear that she was crying.
That revelation left Cobra reeling, still trying to process what he was hearing, but the idea of it… Shoving that thought processed, he reprioritized, focused on understanding what he could. For starters…
"…Vivi… how are you here?" Cobra breathed, steadying himself against the doorframe. Then he froze. "Wait. Bartholomew Kuma? You were the one he sent here?"
"…yes. Carue too," Vivi said after a moment, her voice still shaking. "He's… it's a long story, but he… he used his powers. Scattered us all across the world. Cross saw it coming. The crew needs to train before they can enter the New World, so Kuma sent everyone to the best place for them to grow stronger. And I… I ended up here."
Cobra's heart clenched at the sheer pain she packed into that one word. "And now… you feel torn because you want to stay here, but feel obligated to return?"
Vivi let out a gasping sob. "…That's just it, Daddy," she whispered. "Cross's note… he said that Luffy gave his full permission for me to leave the crew and come back to Alabasta if I wanted to. I…I'm home. I can stay, I…I…"
And that was apparently as far as Vivi could get. Cobra heard a thump, probably her collapsing to her knees, and she just… quietly cried.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do!" she wailed. "I… how am I supposed to choose? I have two groups of people that I love, that love me… that want me, if not need me… and both of them are telling me that they'll be fine with whatever I choose? I… the only reason I'm here and talking to you at all… is that I've been driving myself insane over the last week. Father…what am I supposed to do?"
Cobra raised a hand to his head, shaking it. Telling her he would be happy whatever she chose was the source of her conflict, that wouldn't be of any help. He exhaled softly.
"…how much time do you have, Vivi?" he asked gently.
"T-Two years. Th-The crew meets back on Sabaody Archipelago in two years," she answered just as softly.
A long time, but it was clear that Vivi was suffering now, and that to fight with herself over this would be nothing short of torture. No, what was needed was to remove the pressure of the choice. Once and for all.
The doors abruptly shuddered, and he realized that his daughter's crying was starting to be undercut with a howling wind.
Cobra swallowed audibly. Not only did he need to calm his daughter down for her own sake, but for the sake of avoiding the mother of all sandstorms as well!
"Vivi," Cobra pressed, doing his best to keep the nascent fear he felt out of his voice. "I know that you've grown into a wonderful, selfless young woman. You've dedicated your life to doing what's best for your home. Tell me… what are your reasons for considering the Straw Hats so strongly?"
There was no bite or accusation in the words. Even still, Vivi choked on another sob.
"I can do so much good, I can help so many people—!"
"And they're your friends."
"And they're my friends and I want to stay with them so much because I love traveling with them and I want to be with them to the very end!" wailed, both with her voice and with the wins.
Cobra winced at the adverse reaction, but continued, "Vivi, you're tearing yourself apart because your two choices are telling you two different things, so let me say this clearly so that you know what to do. Vivi…" The king paused, struggling with what he was about to say, with what he knew he had to say. "I want you to stay a Straw Hat."
"Daddy—!"
"Vivi, my beautiful, wonderful princess," he interrupted, "Your love for our country is boundless, but honestly, your faith is sorely lacking. No matter how you might fret or worry, Alabasta has stood strong and undaunted for eight hundred years now. We can survive without you for a while longer. Be it a few years, be it even a decade, we know that you'll come back eventually. And when you return, you will come bearing years of experience that will make you a greater ruler than myself or any of our ancestors who have come before us.
"But until then… Vivi, you've made me the proudest father alive because unlike so many other unworthy pretenders who bear your title, you have been nothing but selfless all your life. You have put your country, your people, and even your average fellow man above yourself, every step of the way. But now… for once… I'm asking you to take the easy path. To take the simple choice. Vivi, please, just this once… choose yourself."
The gales began to calm, slowly. When the door stopped vibrating, Cobra spoke again.
"You're here for now, Vivi. You will have plenty of time with us before you return to them. And when the time comes, you will leave of your own volition. Not to escape from an unjust law, but to help your friends who will need you. And when your journey is finished, we will still be here for you."
Silence fell on the room. Cobra held his breath as it stretched on, and on. "Vivi…?"
The door flew open, Vivi soaring into the room and embracing her father, carrying him down to the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks but a watery smile came over her face. "I missed you so much, Daddy!" she sobbed, her wavering voice ecstatic.
"And I missed you, Vivi," Cobra replied, tears streaming down his own cheeks as he held his daughter close. And for that brief moment, in spite of the world falling to pieces, in spite of the catastrophe looming on the horizon… all was right with life.
-o-
2 Days to the War: Eden's Cinders
Su sat in the darkness, eyes closed but ears open, monitoring Conis' breathing. She hated this, hated that she was planning to abando—leave Conis, even for a short while. But they'd gotten situated—the old bunker they were in was as secure as anything they'd found or were likely to find—and she was anxious to seek out clues to the Children of Inari.
Giving it a few more minutes to ensure Conis was truly asleep, Su stood and, with one last guilty look at her friend, padded for a small gap in the bunker wall. Too small for any human. Not too small for a small cloud fox.
Ooor a grenade. She'd need to remember to conceal the outside of this passage on her way out.
But right as Su poked her head into the hole, she heard a muffled whimper and froze. Slowly, she turned around to find Conis shaking, more of the muffled whimpers slipping out. Su glanced back at the hole, back to Conis, and then back to the hole, a toxic mix of emotions swirling in her gut.
And then one of Conis' hands reached out, blindly grasping at nothing, a burn scar shining on her palm as she grabbed at her phantoms. "N-No… don't… Don't take him away…Please…"
Su stared for a few seconds more before letting her head loll down with a groan. [Fuck it,] she spat. [The Children of Inari have hidden here for centuries, they can wait a few days more.]
Spinning on her paws, she padded back over to Conis, carefully climbed over her, and nestled herself into her friend's arms.
From the tight squeeze she promptly endured (and relished), she knew she'd made the right choice.
-o-
2 Days to the War: Davy Jones' Locker
"Inventive."
"Not bad."
"I'm still confused… how is she going to use the corkscrew and electric eel again?"
"You'll find out~"
"…"
The silence spoke volumes, and the contents were music to Merry's ears. A little time, a lot of company, and a big target for her frustration had done wonders for her panic and fear. The first day had been enough to get a grasp on the situation - and stoke a burning rage that wouldn't burn out anytime soon. Over the following two days, she considered and discarded various plans. And after four days of preparation, she was as ready as she would ever be for the clash.
She just hoped that it would be enough, because going at them head-on, however much she was tempted to do so, was not a good idea. Even by her crew's standards.
When the fallen vessels of the Locker had told Merry of the real intruders into this sanctuary of the naval lifecycle, Merry hadn't expected to find much trouble. Maybe some overzealous salvagers like Masira's band, maybe some juvenile Sea Kings or other that were nosing around the wrecks, looking for corpses to chow down on. Either way, simple enough matters for her to run off.
What Merry hadn't counted on was finding a full-blown Fishman pirate war camp anchored at one of the coral trees!
Not an outpost, not a supply depot, a war camp. With barricades, buildings, supplies by the boatload, a sizeable operation established to strip down the fallen ships that should have been enjoying their well-earned rests, and all manned by plenty of well-armed fishmen who were, if not as battle-hardened as they could have been, undeniably well-organized. And more infuriatingly well-established.
And there wasn't anything she could do about that immediately, either. Her advantage was in the element of surprise and the fact that she, and nobody else, could hear the voices of this wasteland of scrap and use them to evade and navigate without any issue. Step out of that and onto their turf? Well… there was a reason that the crew's fight against an army of fishmen wasn't happening until after they trained. Even for her, it was no simple feat: proportional strength of a caravel meant jack all in the face of someone who could crush her like a damp cracker without even breaking a sweat.
But still, the challenge didn't deter Merry even an inch. She couldn't use her strength to dominate? That was perfectly fine, her crew didn't always. Or at least, only relied on brute strength most of the time. And if there was one thing that Merry had inherited from her crew, it was the ability to be a pest risen from the depths of hell.
And there was one group of schmucks oh-so-kindly breaking away from the pack! Merry grinned like a shark that spotted a bare behind and flipped up the translucent and very ghostly veil she'd salvaged from an old passenger ship. Then she followed them.
As the salvagers picked their way through the wrecks, Merry flitted along beside them, picking her route to give them tantalizing glimpses through the holes rotted in the wrecks. And it did a very good job, too. After ten minutes or so, the fishmen had their heads on a swivel, clearly at least mildly unnerved.
Time for stage two.
The fishmen were picking their way around a wreck to a spot with a ship wedged broadside in front of them. Merry scurried over to that ship, and clambered up onto the railing, fully visible.
"You… who have desecrated this sacred place of rest. Long have you caused suffering for the souls entombed here. No longer! I am the Drowned Lady, and I speak for the ships: Leave this place and never return!"
Merry knew she cut a very spooky figure. Aside from the veil, she'd scrounged up a stringy, water-damaged auburn wig and a ratty white shift. Combined with some improvised stilts it both made her look bigger and also made her move quite a bit different from human norms. So she was just a little disappointed that the fishmen, though clearly spooked, decided to charge and attack rather than flee in terror.
Only a little, though, because charging and attacking was probably the better outcome for her long-term plan.
Merry hopped off the ship she was on, wincing at the crashing noises coming from behind her as the fishmen smashed through the old hull. At least that old-timer was actually a corpse instead of just retired, further proved when she heard the tell-tale creak and crash and muffled swearing of the ship collapsing around their ears.
A pause to let them catch sight of her again, and the chase was back on. Now that they were being cautious, Merry gave them the slip by diving into an opening too small for anyone much bigger than her. From there, she watched and waited to coordinate the perfect moment with the nearby ships.
Her opportunity came sooner than she ever expected.
"Oh, waitwaitwait, Marianne's Fury, they're getting close to you!" she giggled malevolently. "Running, running, ruuuunning... aaand!"
BLAM! And just like that, the air was filled with the sounds of both panic and agony.
"SUDDENLY PINEAPPLES, OH YEAH! THANK YOU, USOPP!" Merry cackled before going right back on the observation, her grin stretching from ear to ear. "Oooh, I'm gonna have fun with this! Oh, Height of Glory! Off your starboard bow!"
CRACK! "MY LEG!"
"MWAHAHA! Nasty!"
-o-
3 Hours to the War: Sabaody Archipelago
Boss Dugong yawned, sitting up on the lawn of the Thousand Sunny. He'd gone to sleep after the last attack the night before, entrusting the watch to the rotating cast of Flying Fish riders that had enthusiastically volunteered for the task. He ran through his morning stretches, limbering himself for the battles to come, and waddled over to the side. His students had elected to sleep onshore to minimize reaction time.
Then he actually saw his students, and knew that at least one of them hadn't slept at all.
Sighing, he Rip Tided from the deck to the shore, appearing in front of Mikey, who despite his bloodshot stare didn't flinch.
[Mikey, what the hell are you doing.]
[Oh, I was on first watch,] the young dugong answered. [Raphey said she'd take over for me in four hours.]
Boss regarded his student with a very flat and mildly disbelieving look. [Mikey, it's morning.]
[Oh,] the dugong said. [Permission to pass out right now, sir?]
[Granted,] Boss grunted, at which point Mikey keeled over flat on his face and began loudly snoring.
After taking a moment to ensure his student was comfortable, Boss waddled over to the rest of his students, lightly dozing in the grass, took a deep breath, and—
[OHHHHHHH- IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP TIME TO WAKE UP TIME TO WAKE UP NOOOO~OOOOW! IT'S TIME TO—!]
[We're awake, we're awake!] the three no-longer-sleeping dugongs shouted as they leapt to their tails.
[Good,] Boss nodded, before putting on his best 'disappointed' voice. [What was not good was leaving Mikey up all night on watch! Not because it was mean, which it was, but because he was completely useless five hours in! I'd have thought we'd had enough night attacks for you lot to realize that!]
Leo and Raphey looked appropriately sheepish. Donny, on the other hand, raised a flipper and said, [In my defense, I got outvoted.]
Boss narrowed his eyes. [And you didn't wake up Mikey anyway because…]
[I drew the long straw to not have a watch at all.]
Boss nodded again. [Understandable. Regardless, get your tails moving, you three!]
[Yes, Boss!] his students yelped gratifyingly.
As they scampered off, Boss was struck by the sudden feeling that he was forgetting something. And not the sort of something you could just shrug at, something important. Something about the passage of time.
Before he could remember, however, he spotted a Flying Fish Rider out the corner of his eye, tearing towards the Sunny like his ass was on fire. The rider skidded down to the ground, a wild look in his eyes, and with a start, Boss realized he hadn't seen any of them on guard duty like usual.
"Boss Dugong, what are you doing here?!" the rider demanded.
Boss blinked. {Guarding the ship? What else would I be doing?}
The rider opened his mouth, then closed it, muttering to himself, "Oh, right, if anything would make him forget it would be all the attacks they've had to deal with…"
Okay, now this was just getting ridiculous. {Forget what? Speak up and stop muttering, boy!}
"Fire Fist's execution!"
And just like that, Boss went deathly still. Of course. The execution. How could he have lost track of the date? Oh, wait, the rider was still talking.
"The Government snuck onto the archipelago, set up screens in some of the public squares with vis-snail feeds! Everyone's declared a truce!"
A truce… that made sense. Unfortunately, he doubted that everyone left on the island had enough honor to abide by it. As much as he wanted to, they couldn't all go.
No sooner had he thought that than his students blurred into existence in front of him, all wearing pleading expressions. They didn't even need to say anything.
[Go,] Boss said. [I'll guard the ship. And don't forget to take Mikey with you.]
They all nodded somberly and clambered onto the flying fish's back, Raphey none-too-gently throwing Mikey's unconscious form on.
[ONE MORE THING!]
The three conscious dugongs looked back at him to see him fighting a grimace. Actually thankful for once that Soundbite wasn't around, he shouted, [Nobody ever finds out that we forgot. Fights or no fights, I don't want anyone thinking that everyone from Alabasta forgets life-threatening information.]
The three of them winced and nodded. Boss watched them fly off, a grim feeling in his heart.
'So Plan A failed. And Plan B… sorry, boys, but this is going to be rough.'
-o-
1 Hour to the War: ■■■■■■■
In the shadows of the world, for a brief and fleeting moment, there was peace.
Not a single movement, not a single sound, not a single sign of either life or death. Simply an absolute sense of nothingness.
And then, in the deepest part of that nothingness, two eyes cracked open. Eyes that were filled with fear and terror, darting about frantically in search of anything and everything that might be looking to end their bearer's life.
And as the eyes blinked and stared into the nothingness, that very same terror intensified at something that only they could perceive.
"Cross," a quiet, quavering voice rasped out. "Something's happening. I… the world is, it's… everything is tensing. Readying. Holding its breath… I can feel it, Cross. It's time."
Silence returned for a few seconds. Then, a second pair of eyes cracked open. And these eyes weren't scared. And nor were they angry, sad or… anything, really. Instead, the eyes just displayed exhaustion. A bone-deep lack of energy, with only the barest hint of concern for anything else.
But that 'hint' was enough. The tiniest wisp of a flame sparked to life in those eyes, and they narrowed.
And slowly, a vindictive glower rose up, and stared into the nothingness.
"…then let's get to it. Everybody to their places. It's time to raise the curtain… on the final act."
And in that nothingness, a single sound rang out…
CLICK!
Which, in turn, triggered the final death knell of the current world.
A knell heard all around the globe… and that had been heard so often before.
"Don don don don! Don don don don!"
Cross-Brain AN: No more trolling; Cross is back, and his next broadcast is going to turn the world upside-down. As for his location? Well… here's a hint for when you'll finally find out. Remember what we asked at the start of Impel Downfall: Who can say exactly what goes on in Hell? And the answer is…
.
.
.
…why, it's the Divine and the Damned, of course.
12 Hours to the War: Impel Down
Tensions were running high in Impel Down, for which nobody could blame the staff. At any second now, they expected to hear that their prisoners had begun the jailbreak attempt of the century, and that was if they didn't try to be subtle about it at first.
Momonga had found himself stationed close to the top of the prison, hovering around the top side of the passage between Levels 2 and 3, and the beasts on the floor wisely gave him a wide berth.
All save for the Minotaurus, who was giving him a notable leer whenever he paced near enough. And a few hours of putting up with that was all that the Vice Admiral could take. Ensuring that he kept to the proper passageways, he stalked over to where Sadi stood at the ready, her scowl deepening when he arrived.
"Your displeasure at the situation is one thing. But since neither of us wants me to be here, would it be too much to ask for you to tone down your animosity? If you need to vent, then by all means, you can use me."
Raising a brow and beginning to smile, she lifted her whip.
"Verbally, you deranged cow."
"Tch. Prude…" Sadi groused, but she didn't lower her whip. Instead, she snapped her attention to the side, causing all the prisoners within her line of sight to tense in terror. "But while the thought is on my mind… guards, the keys."
Momonga watched with antipathy as the Floor's guards opened the doors to about a dozen cells and prodded the prisoners out into the open, where they were surrounded by the Beast Hell's slavering denizens.
"Alright darlings~, here's the deal!" Sadi barked out, voice equal parts playful and menacing. "Anyone who doesn't suck and suffer the most and manages to amuse me enough for the next few minutes doesn't get their rations cut in half! Sooo basically, usual game night rules! Have fun~! GET TO IT!" And with those last words belted out, she cracked her whip—
"GROOOOAR!" "AAAARGH!"
—and screaming and rapid footfalls filled the air. Background music that only a torturer could love.
Case in point, Sadi was visibly calmer when she turned back to Momonga, her expression (or the half that could be seen) as sober as Momonga had ever seen it.
"When you get down to the bones of it, our world's justice system is simple: catch the criminals, convict the criminals, punish the criminals, all while protecting the ones who abide by the law," she summarized. "And while we here in Impel Down do keep up with the news, we haven't had much reason to focus on the activities of the Navy or the Government. Not for centuries. Not until the SBS began."
Momonga's eyes narrowed, and a far too familiar headache bloomed in the back of his skull.
"The first broadcast? That merely had our interest. A strange piece, but at least it was an interesting diversion. But once Cross decided to guarantee himself a penthouse suite in the deepest pits of living hell we could manage, we've made a point of not missing so much as a single broadcast, no matter how trivial. And after cross-referencing it with the newspapers and by asking the prisoners that we've received the right questions… Well." Sadi's lips twisted in a vicious scowl. "You can imagine that we were quite concerned that for once, a pirate mouthing off about the injustice of the World Government wasn't speaking out of his ass."
Momonga's already attentive posture somehow became even tenser, and he leveled a full-blown glower at the Chief Guard. "That. Is a very dangerous opinion to have."
Never mind that it was one that he himself had been entertaining over the past week. And by the slight lengthening of her face as if she were raising an eyebrow, she had heard what happened to Level 3's abomination. After a moment, he spoke again.
"Assuming that your opinion has some basis," he said, choosing his words carefully. "You realize what living by it would mean. Not only in the context of your own life, but your occupation. How can you be so composed about that statement of yours…" His gaze turned to regard the moshpit of violence that was ongoing mere feet away. "When it means that even as we speak, you could be responsible for the torture and suffering of innocent people.
In direct contrast to Momonga's lengthy deliberation, Sadi didn't even take a second before responding with a flat "Meh," and waving him off dismissively. "That's no concern of mine."
"No…?" Momonga stared at her, only the last vestiges of his discipline keeping him from going the extra mile of gaping at her.
"No concern, yes," Sadi confirmed, casually inspecting her nails. "Obviously, I'm not going to intentionally inflict mind-warping aaaagony~ upon innocent people, mmmm~ but even you must understand how effectively a wolf can make itself look like the most innocent lamb that ever sailed the seas. We wouldn't make any attempt to stop someone who we knew to be innocent from leaving, but that kind of certainty could only come if someone had been born here. We are jailers and enforcers. It has never been our job to act as judge, jury, nor even executioner. The burden of proof, innocence, and now guilt?" She casually waved her hand in his direction. "That's always been yours."
"And if you want to talk about innocence? I have words on the subject."
Both spun to find Domino standing behind them, a crossbow in one hand.
"Impressive stealth," Momonga muttered.
"I have to keep up with the likes of Mistress Sadi and Hannyabal somehow, and psychological terror is one of the many fields we practice in our domain. Now." She flicked her glasses up, catching the light just so. "If I may continue?"
"By all means," the Vice Admiral invited.
"Then as I was saying, it is rare but possible for prisoners to appeal to us. If they make a sufficiently convincing case, we submit a report to issue them a retrial." Domino's professional frown twitched down in disapproval. "A process that has done nothing to help the Government's case. Nobody in living memory has ever had their case overturned… that is, until we had almost a dozen successful appeals during the last four months. A time period that just happens to be the exact length of time those very retrials have ceased being conducted upon Enies Lobby. But even then, with any failed retrial our job has always been to assume that they're very skilled liars and punish them accordingly. And that the World Government bears incontrovertible proof of their guilt, justifying whatever happens to them as a result."
She then slid past them. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just passing through. I need to fetch more poisoned bolts, just in case."
Sadi harrumphed slightly before looking back at Momonga.
"As Little Miss Oh-So-Perfect explained, Impel Down is a prison. It has never been in our job description to verify the innocence of every person brought here when. Even if Cross is right, the majority of our prisoners are guilty as charged. There's never been a case of a member of our staff knowing with certainty that the person in question was innocent. If there were, we would not stop them from leaving. We are those who have dedicated ourselves to making criminals' lives a living Hell. And you are the ones that are supposed to be dedicated to making sure innocent people never end up here."
Her frown deepened. "My 'displeasure' with the situation, as you put it before, is how deep the problem runs. There will always be mistakes in the process, and they're not our responsibility. But when it comes to something like this… this much evidence, this much proof that the problem is deliberate, endemic to the point that the World Government is no longer trustworthy…"
She stepped close to him, enough that he could see traces of her eyes through her locks. And of the unholy fury that burned in them.
"I hope you realize I'm only telling you this much because I can see the same feelings in your eyes," she hissed, almost twice as sultry as she was menacing. "Because things going that far now, as they have, has made us feel something that we haven't felt in centuries. That we never should have been given cause to feel. A little emotion called… rebellion."
"And you… do not see any problems with confessing such a thing to a Vice Admiral?"
"Oh, of course not~! After all, if I thought for even one second that you would make an issue of this…"
A heavy hand fell on Momonga's shoulder, and he tensed furiously as an air-rumbling growl rippled out from behind him.
"Then you'd be dead where you stand."
She chuckled and turned her back to him.
"I am very good at perceiving pain. And I can see clearly, no torture I could muster now would be worse than how much your sense of honor is shredding you from the inside out. And it is simply marvelous~"
The conversation ended there, and after a minute, Momonga returned to his post more frustrated and conflicted than when he had left. And the tense confrontation before he left the prison three hours later did nothing to make him feel better.
Last edited:
- Location
- Wishing I was somewhere much colder, I asssume.
Oooh, I can't wait to hear Cross' next broadcast.
Wonderful preview of what people are getting up to.
I especially enjoyed the last part and the Among Us task references. A combination of the most asinine tasks is something I can see someone in this world using for security. Or even any kind of identification system really.
I especially enjoyed the last part and the Among Us task references. A combination of the most asinine tasks is something I can see someone in this world using for security. Or even any kind of identification system really.
Evil M. Lurker
What Lurks at Midnight
- Location
- The City, USA
...big, shiny, candy-like button...
- Location
- USA
Can someone explain for those of us less informed?
Aloquaki
The World's a laptop screen on a dusty day.
- Location
- Between Imagination and reality. Floating
- Pronouns
- He/They
Like are ya asking 'bout the fact that some people believe that *** **** ** ******** is the hell of darkness, and now he's in
with the clue that of divine and damned mean he's now either in Castle PANGAEA where the elder stars live, or Gallows. The holy lands is the reference to Pangaea. That's what I believe, and what some others believe as well.