Winchester Troubleshooting [Batter/Char]

[Deleted]

SPOILER: Click to show

As agreed upon between Char and I, this thread takes place shortly before Strawberry Hill: El Dorado of Adventure.

Staring at his blurry reflection in a porcelain sake cup, Ransom sat in a quiet tavern near the East Winchester docks. Across from him was another young man, around his age but otherwise completely different looking, bald with clothing that at some point in the past had been serviceable sailor's wear, but was now filthy and torn to shreds. The man, Marcus, was one of the Karuta Company's many couriers, and an accomplished one at that, frequently being put in charge of large shipments. Ransom knew him, but not well, and having only stopped on the island for a meal and a night's rest, was surprised to be accosted by him immediately after setting foot on the docks.

"He took everything, Ransom! We knew this area was dangerous, but he cut through the guards we hired like they were nothing! And now it's all gone! The ship, the cargo, even the money I had in my pockets!" Marcus said, literally weeping into his mug of ale. "Speaking of which, you can cover my drinks, right? I know Tenbun pays you pretty good..." When Ransom answered in the affirmative, Marcus launched back into his sob story. "He threw me off the ship, left me to die! I was lucky I washed up here!"

Ransom snapped his free hand up, gesturing palm forward for Marcus to pause his story. "Who's "he", Marcus?" Ransom asked. Marcus rose from his seat and retrieved a piece of paper from somewhere in his threadbare clothing and slapped it onto the table. It was a bounty poster, featuring a closeup of a figure in a steel helmet.

---

WANTED

Dead or Alive

Usurper Rex
Galba N

14,000,000

Captain of the Covetous Pirates. Wanted for general acts of terrorism on and around Winchester Island and conspiracy to attack Fort Stanley. Last known base of operations is Lancer Mansion, West Winchester.

---

"You were attacked by pirates?" It certainly wasn't unheard of for a rookie pirate to make an attempt on a Karuta ship. Regardless of how successful they were, the usual procedure was to send an armed envoy to collect the goods and explain the company's policy of aiding pirates. Tenbun maintained a lengthy blacklist of crews that refused to cooperate, but they tended to be of the kind that wouldn't last very long on the seas even with help. Ransom couldn't recall the company's ships being attacked by such an established pirate, nor had he ever heard of such a major, well protected shipment being taken completely. Ransom knew the route; Marcus' ship was headed for Fort Stanley, and with the strict rationing happening on the island, any loss of supplies would be a huge blow.

"No one's ever disrespected us like this before, Ransom! We can't let it stand! We have to go back to Strawberry Hill and gather up every bounty hunter on the island to take this bastard down!" Ransom's expression stayed frozen in a state of calm even faced with Marcus' sudden burst of enthusiasm. He brought his hand up to the right side of his face and tapped a finger thoughtfully against his cheekbone. "I've never heard of the Covetous Pirates before. Maybe they're new to West Blue? Tenbun's rule is that everyone who attacks us gets one chance to ask for forgiveness."

So we wait for Tenbun to gather up the biggest, baddest crew he can find, and when that tin can won't play nice, they'll blow him away!" Marcus mimed firing a rifle, a thousand revenge fantasies playing in his mind. Ransom gave a small shake of his head. "There's no time, the next shipment will be coming tomorrow. We'll have to speak with him, and if he doesn't return the shipment, we can go to the marines."

Marcus went pale, the bravado rapidly disappearing from his face as he reflexively fled toward the corner of the bar. "There's no way I can do that! I'm injured! I'm traumatized! Can't you tell? Think of my poor little grandma back home! If anything happens to me, it'll just kill her!" he shouted. Ransom sighed. "You're right, Marcus, you've been through enough. I sailed one of the company ships here, take it back to Strawberry Hill and tell Tenbun what's going on." Marcus immediately calmed down and crept back to the table. "Right on, Ransom! I knew I could count on you to help me! You go on ahead, I'm just going to stay here and finish my drink."

Ransom set his empty sake cup on the end of the counter and retrieved a small wad of bills from one of his vest pockets, dealing the payment onto the table like a hand of cards. He folded the bounty poster in half and placed it in his messenger bag, then took his leave of the bar. By offering his boat to Marcus, he had, momentarily at least, stranded himself on the island, but he knew that the small delivery vessel wasn't cut out for Grand Line. He hoped that after this distraction had been dealt with, he'd be able to secure a more suitable means of travel.

Ransom headed west down the city streets, moving as he would during an on foot delivery, with what looked like a fluid, relaxed stroll sped up. He knew that attempting to intervene alone was risky, but he had acted as an envoy before, and it was fairly easy to convince pirates that having a legitimate, well-connected delivery service at their beck and call was a good idea. But in the back of his mind, he almost hoped that things wouldn't go so smoothly. He had come across very few opportunities to use his Devil Fruit abilities, and felt a certain rush of adrenaline when he imagined displaying them to a terrified and unprepared criminal.

Distracted by this fantasy, Ransom nearly charged into a burly old man, sidestepping at the last second. After a profuse apology, he mentally chastised himself and swore to focus on the task at hand. Soon the attractive pastel buildings gradually gave way to more bizarre, decrepit buildings as Ransom approached the border between halves of the island, the drab concrete barrier coming into view before him.

[EriChar]

And that one goes around there… With rope being passed from one hand to another, a young, red-headed woman crouched on wooden boarding as she wound the flexible fastening around the rusted iron anchor of the dock; her pink tongue protruding from the side of her mouth as she did so, like a young boy busy with a very absorbing task.
And then through the loop… Absorbed in her task, while the mind of the woman seemed focused on what she was doing, mentally promoting her next action, her hands told a tale that this was not the first time that they had performed this duty. More like the happy melody of a person at work, the words which flowed through the mind of the rope-securing girl seemed more a mental chirp of good morale than any sort of need to remind of her next step. Like a habit that had become second nature to her, it probably would have felt or gone wrong within the song to keep things comfortable, and so, despite the hands already knowing where they needed to turn and twist, they were kept content by the rhythmic tune that was sang in the mind of the miss handling the line.

“There, all done!” Announcing happily with a sense of pride that she had completed her basic seaman’s task, the scarlet-locked lady flashed the body of her thumb to the other end of the fastening, which was born from a ship with a rather unusually featured figurehead. A woman with a fox’s face and great many tails seemed to intertwine with the front of the vessel which the happy woman had just secured, sculpted into the very material that comprised the ship to form an impartible bond between body and boat. Named for this figurehead, the ‘Kuzunoha’ was linked by both of these features to a story that her designer had heard from a distant land, about a mischievous spirit who became a great protector, and hoped that the ship itself would also protect any who traversed her bow.
Beyond the shape of the mixture of voluptuousness and vixen, darting around the rigging like a party of primates, a trio of individuals were stowing the ships sails and securing the remaining lines, only giving a casual glance and nod in return to the redhead’s declaration. Two young men, and a girl, these three were known by the name of Biggs, Wedge and Jessie, and served as the hands of the would-be pirate captain Anne Brennan; our currently beaming redhead. Perhaps it was hard to imagine that the young woman who darted back up the deck in a bikini top and short-shorts was the type of person to lead a crew of sea-bandits, but I’m sure as you come to know her, you’ll be reassured of her capability. Well, probably.

“OK, this looks like a great place to grab a few more extra bodies for the ‘road’!” Snatching up a charcoal coloured jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders, the captain called up to her crewmen, who had finished their jobs and were now heading back to the main deck.

“So, do you think you’ll be able to find good people here?” The young lady by the name of Jessie being the first down from her task, pulling off the black bandanna she wore and revealing dirty blonde hair dampened by the heat of the day, she headed over toward her leader with a simple query. Anne, who had been a pirate for more than a few years prior to taking up this as her first command, had a loose understanding of safe havens and ‘recruiting points’ in most of the blue seas, thanks to the anecdotes passed onto her by peers of the past, but her crew were not so fortunate. Very much ‘rookies’ in terms of even the most basic acts of piracy, the trio under the authority of Mrs Brennan had been at sea less than a year, and were still only just acclimatising to the lifestyle. With their inexperience, much was deferred to the shoulders of the redhead who headed them up, who felt confident she could handle it.

“Yeah, yeah, this is like, the biggest collection of pirates in this blue; there’s bound to be more than one good hand here.” Smiling and shrugging to her underlings, Anne spoke with conviction as she assured the three ‘young ones’ of their future success here, remembering that the first mate of her former crew had always mentioned ‘the pirate half’ of Winchester to be a good place to get your crew together for future endeavours.
“Plus, since they’re often crapping with the Marines on the other side of the island, they should be handy in a fight too…” Pumping her fist into the air powerfully, Anne was excited at the prospect of having a few more ‘fierce’ bodies at her disposal, as her own seemed currently to make up much of the group’s fighting force. Don’t get me wrong; while all three of her current crew could hold their own against your average soldier or fellow brigand, there were far more threatening powers on the sea that lay ahead, and if the crew was to find much success, they would need to be ready to meet these challenges head on. At least, that was what Anne thought, and why she was here; to seek out the strong and skilled to round her crew out, before making a dash at the Grand Line. One or two more bodies aboard her boat would certainly make for enough hands to guide her ship into the great sea route, and from there, she could bolster her forces even more. That was why this stop was so critical; while she had been lucky in snatching up Biggs, Wedge and Jessie in one swoop, because of their lacking experience, the captain did not quite feel they were ready for the roughness of the Grand Line race.

“So, uh, you guys stay here; it could get pretty rough, so I think it’s better if you watch the ship.” Stroking her bottom lip with a pout, Anne dispensed her orders to the three that would be the guards of ‘Miss Kuzunoha’, before giving a casual wave and strolling off the deck. Walking down the gangplank, and onto the dock, Mrs Brennan was in good spirits as she set off on a search for her new crewmen, feeling upbeat about her prospects of recruitment.

That’s a bit of a strange jolly roger… Glancing up to a ship she passed on her way around the port, the pirate girl couldn’t help but feel that it was perhaps in poor taste to use a white flag when one was a pirate; black was the colour of piracy, and using a blue seagull on a white background just seemed to betraying the very roots that sea dogs seemed to stand for.
Pirates these days… Dismissively shrugging and continuing her journey onward, it was only a handful of minutes later that the woman ran into a rabble that she figured might be useful in finding the kinds of people she was looking for.

“So, where’s a girl to find a few strong pirate heads, eh?” Throwing her arms into the air, before even bothering to recognise the white uniforms and standard issue rifles that this gathered half a dozen men seemed to carry with them, the unobservant pirate girl casually sought the attention of these men, not realizing that they were in fact Marine forces, and the ship she had just spied was their home vessel; while this young woman’s ability to tie a line were excellent, her deductive reasoning was not…

[Deleted]

Ransom transitioned from a run to a walk as he approached the wall that divided East and West Winchester Island. There were no obvious means of passage that Ransom could see from this point, and the structure was far too tall for him to scale. He did, of course, have one very unique way to get around this obstacle, but Ransom was less than completely comfortable with the idea of using his Devil Fruit abilities in public. He glanced from shoulder to shoulder, and it seemed that he was far enough on the outskirts of the city that there was currently no one watching him.

Adopting a wide stance, Ransom ran a finger along the wall, drawing a rectangle with the zipper that appeared behind it. He kneeled down, grabbing the pull tab and beginning to open the zipper as he rose. When the motion was complete, a portion of the concrete the approximate size and shape of a doorway had come slightly ajar from the rest of the barrier.

Ransom planted his palms on the detached section and began pushing, but was unable to even budge it. It was difficult to gauge, but the wall was obviously much thicker than he had expected, and by extension, much heavier. Ransom, lacking any exceptional strength, decided to stop before he managed to hurt himself. "I guess that would have been too easy," he thought as he closed the zipper, willing it out of existence and making the wall whole again.

Ransom had no choice but to search for another way through, running his fingers along the concrete as he headed North along the wall. He took this opportunity to consider what awaited him; while he had made countless mundane deliveries to the eastern half of the island, he had never personally been to West Winchester, having only heard stories of how lawless and bedraggled it was. He didn't expect to run into any trouble he couldn't avoid, but he knew better than to let his guard down in such a place.

Before long, something came into view in the distance, a structure built into the side of the wall. The white building looked quite striking against the grey concrete, the blue flag of the Marines being flown proudly on top. Ostensibly, it was some kind of checkpoint. Ransom increased his pace again, hoping to pass through with a minimum amount of trouble.

As he came closer, Ransom spied a large Den Den Mushi on the roof of the building as it turned to face him. The shaky voice of a clearly very nervous young man was emitted from the snail at a surprising volume. "S-s-top right there, pirate scum! S-s-surrender now!" Ransom paused, but before he could properly react, a shot rang out, luckily landing nowhere near him. Still, his heart stopped for a moment, although his face was still in its usual expression of good natured contentment.

Ransom raised his hands in a halfhearted gesture that was more mea culpa than unconditional surrender, but it seemed to be enough to placate the Marine, as no more bullets followed the first. Suddenly, the sound of a brief struggle was played over the Den Den Mushi, followed by a deeper, more mature voice. "Recruit, you idiot! You're watching the wrong side of the border!" The unidentified voice cleared its throat. "Sorry for the misunderstanding, civilian! Please proceed to the checkpoint!"

[EriChar]

"BAWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!"

Raucous laughter boomed all around Anne Brennan, as largely unknown to her, she stood now on the cusp of a Marine Patrol Unit, about to go out on their daily rounds. It was perhaps a sense of lacking attention to detail that had led this pirate girl to a situation like this; boldly bearing her intent to find pirates on this, the Marine controlled side of the island. A foolish mistake, of course; even with her own powerful skills, it would be difficult for Anne to defeat the armed to the teeth battalion of soldiers stationed here.
The ‘emissaries’ of the World Government who were stationed on Winchester were by no means your wet behind the ears rookies, or at least, they weren’t for long. The constant battle looming above their head, and sense that any looming weakness would leave the door open to be overwhelmed; even the lowest class of seaman was in a fight for their life in this locale, just beyond the checkpoint that locked off the rest of the island was a land that no man could own, but everyone laid claim to. Perhaps for both sides, it was now more a matter of pride than control; the pirates could have fled the Marine force to safety, and the Marines themselves had little left of this island that hadn’t been devastated by the blows from both sides. Barely anything was left to be ‘saved’, by either party, and yet neither seemed to want to give up the nothing they might earn for victory. No, for now it was a matter of pride and esteem; if the pirates won, they’d have thrown the proud Marines off an island, and if the Marines won, they would have restored ‘justice’ to this battle scarred land. No longer was this a fight to preserve life, but rather one to keep what was left of each side’s respective reputation. Not that Mrs Brennan had particularly thought that deep into the conflict, since she cared little for the effects or results of it. All that the red head currently was concerned with was bolstering her number. It could be from pirate, or maybe even a disillusioned Marine if they were interested enough; really, as long as they were skilled and willing, anyone would do.

“That was a good one, girlie…” Wiping a laughter-born bead of water from the corners of his eyes, the leader of this little group; a man with a bushy set of moustache and sideburns, broke from the group and took a few steps toward her, lowering the firearm across his chest peacefully.
“None of those weak-armed weasels have the strength to break our Marine line!” Anne watched as the man spoke loudly, as if trying to encourage his men with his bold words, and thrust his firearm into the sky proudly; an action that the people behind him repeated. The chap in charge of these fine specimens of soldierly service seemed something of a character, with a strong spirit and devotion to his duty, and the pride in what he did to boast and show a broad bravado about the life of his fellow warriors here.

Marine Line…? It was only when the word ‘Marine’ was mentioned by the men in front of her, that it began to dawn on the young woman that she was, in fact, standing in front of the pirates sworn enemies.
“Ah, this is the Marine side of the island?” Realizing her mistake, Anne muttered the words of her recognition largely to herself, but loud enough so that they could be heard by the white-wearing men around her.

“Yeah, and it always will be, right boys?” Again with his strong sense of confidence feeding his charisma, the squad leader boomed to his ‘boys’, who barked an approval back toward him, like a set of happy little pups. Clearly, this leader was a man who had earned their respect and admiration; perhaps someone who would have gone far in his Marine career already if he hadn’t been stuck in a warzone.

“Ah, I better get moving now then…” Knowing now that her most likely source of supplement to the number of her crew now lay on entirely the other side of the island, Anne knew that she had to hurry; she was excited, and eager to get her adventure underway, and having a whole island to cross before recruits could even be assessed was not bringing her any closer to such a goal.
Coulda sworn he said 'East' was for pirates... Wondering about the information she had been given, Anne tried to recall the words of her old first mate, but it seemed hazy, and so she gave it up as a bad job.

“That might be a good idea, Miss; the pirate scum are only just west of here, on the battlefront, and it’d be a shame if a stray shot or some such ruined your fine form…” The man with the moustache, and the confidence of his troops, struck his finger in the direction of the island’s ‘frontier’, and took the opportunity to lean a little closer as he admired the figure of our pirate captain; enjoying what he saw as he tried to lay some charm into the conversation as smoothly as he could. It wasn’t hard to see why; for all of her rowdy, tomboyish style, Mrs Brennan had grown into a woman who was not even remotely close to displeasing visually. While she tended to forgo the usual relationships she could have, due to devotion to an admittedly dead husband, that did not deter the interest that her attractive appearance might create, and neither did her style of dress. A bikini top, hot pants, and a jacket were certainly the forms of fashion that would set a hot blooded pulse racing, even if they were worn more because it left her body with more freedom of movement than to suggest such a feeling. Good looks and racy style were an unintentional draw of Anne Brennan, one that she was only slightly aware of, but found useful none the same; to the Pirate Captain, there seemed no end of ‘nice’ men who wished to buy her drinks and lower the price of their wares, for nothing more than in her mind, a sense of altruism.

“Ah, so the pirates are that way, huh?” Completely missing the Marine’s display of charm and interest in her, partly because of a focus on her goal and more because she was not the most attentive of women, Anne ignored the lusty glances she received from the Marine group and instead looked along the directing finger, getting a feel for where she needed to be.
“Thanks for the help, Mister!” Casting the squad leader a sort of salute-like wave goodbye, the redhead flashed his a bright smile of appreciation, before ducking away from the closeness of his company, and instead toward the town between herself and the ‘front’; she’d need to cross both of them to get to the ‘pirate half’. Scurrying across the dock she stood in and toward the closest and lowest structure she could see, the girl was not prepared to waste any time in getting to her destination, so she didn’t have time to move through this settlement in an established fashion.

“Whoa there, Missy, you could at least tell me your name, and let a man buy you a drink as thanks…?” Before Anne could hop up to the roof of the building before her, however, the call of the Marine stopped the woman’s tracks, momentarily at least. Obviously, whatever this man’s name was, he was not deterred by the sudden dash of a girl away from him, still not aware that she was a pirate.

“Ah, sorry! My name’s Anne, and I’m a married woman!” Spinning on the spot, to regard the would-be suitor and snapping her hands together in a clapped apology, the widow shouted her marital status to the male Marine, not wanting him to chase after a goal that was eternally out of reach, before turning once again, and bounding off the wall in front of her.
“See ya!” Zigzagging through the surrounding building, Anne threw a goodbye to the group as she shot around the walls like a loose spring, her well-honed free running abilities once again proving themselves to be invaluable…

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[Deleted]

The atmosphere in the marine checkpoint was incredibly tense. The soldiers not in the midst of their duties stood wide-eyed with weapons drawn, ready to tip the scales of the stalemate that defined Winchester Island at a moment's notice. As the clean-cut middle aged marine that had spoken over the loudspeaker lead Ransom through the building, the courier couldn't help but notice that this quality seemed to be enough to tranquilize the pirates who occupied the checkpoint's single, cramped cell. They simply sat, as far from the bars as they could manage, staring at the ground as if the slightest movement would send their captors flying into a rage. He had seen pirates in captivity before, but none who looked this defeated.

As they walked past, a young marine carrying a tray stacked with wooden bowls of rice approached the cell door. Peculiarly, he slid it through a slot in the middle of the door and simply let it drop, immediately backing away from the door. The prisoners suddenly sprang to life, rushing toward the tray and ruthlessly fighting among themselves over every grain of rice. Ransom felt a twinge of sympathy for them as he watched a man rip a handful of food from another's mouth; it was clear from the shape they were in that they had not eaten in a very long time.

"We're not starving them, if that's what you're thinking. That would be entirely against protocol. They've been like that since we brought them in." The marine opened the door to his private office, ushering Ransom in and shutting the door behind them. The marine set his jacket on the back of his chair before taking a seat, and gesturing for Ransom to do the same. In the corner of the room, facing the wall and shaking nervously, was a slightly bruised and battered marine recruit, ostensibly the one who had fired at Ransom.

"Since a shot was fired, procedure dictates that we file an incident report, then we'll have you on your way in no time!" the marine said, organizing a stack of paperwork on his desk. As the officer looked it over, Ransom's eyes were drawn to the poster hung behind the desk, a map of West Winchester with areas of interest marked by black pins with crude jolly rogers painted on them. One location in particular was circled with pins, a building in the shape of an upturned cone labeled as Lancer Mansion. Ransom took a mental note of its approximate location.

Ransom produced a Hanafuda deck from his vest and shuffled through it as he answered a few simple personal questions. "Finally, what business do you have in West Winchester?" Utilizing his familiarity with the area, Ransom quickly concocted a bluff: "I'm making a delivery from Pecos Town to one of the weapon shops..." His eyes flickered back toward the map almost imperceptibly, finding an arms dealer that wasn't marked with a pin. "Setting Sun Rifles. I'm a courier with the Karuta Cargo Company." He held his messenger bag up to his chest and pointed at the logo. The officer seemed satisfied by this answer, and Ransom prepared to stand up.

"A-are you crazy? That place is f-f-ull of pirates," The recruit interjected. "With the marines here to keep order, why would I need to be afraid of pirates?" Ransom responded with a smile, and the officer nodded in approval. "B-b-ut our orders were to stay here until that armored pirate a-a-advances on the base!" In a split second, the officer threw a paperweight across the room, smacking the already worse-for-the-wear recruit in the head, knocking him off his feet.

"That's strictly classified information, recruit!" he scanned Ransom's face for signs of a reaction, picking up nothing, but decided to try to pacify the civilian anyway. "I've been keeping those Lancer Pirates under control for years. I don't know what's gotten them so excited lately, but we'll continue by the book and everything will be back to normal soon."

The recruit slowly brought himself to his feet and once again inserted himself into the conversation. "But l-l-lieutenant! Didn't the intelligence r-r-eport say they aren't the Lancer Pirates any more? T-t-there's even a new captain!" This time, the entire desk came flying at the long suffering marine, slamming against the wall and narrowly missing him. "Recruit!" the lieutenant screamed, his eyes suddenly wide with rage. "Are you aware of what 'classified' means?" The recruit returned to the corner to cower, as the lieutenant turned back to Ransom. "Don't worry about him, a few weeks of KP will teach him not to listen in on private conversations." Desperate to prevent any more information leaks, he rushed to the door and began waving Ransom through. "Thank you for your cooperation, you're free to go now!"

Ransom took his time leaving the checkpoint as he processed all of the information he had gained. "I can't rely on the marines to do anything about Galba until it's too late. So much for plan B. I'll have to play this carefully." His shuffling became slightly more erratic as he contemplated the setback.

[EriChar]

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat… Footsteps along a tops of buildings created a decidedly different reverberation to the same motions made across the hard ground below; perhaps it was because, while for the most part the paving, roads, and wild lands were rather solid underfoot, the domicile’s and structures made by man were not? Square caves designed to be hollow to contain all manner of human items of interest, while sturdy enough, the fact that the sound could in some way bounce and echo it’s way around the inside of what a foot pressed off, probably cause the familiar change in timbre that now told Anne Brennan that she now no longer dashed along the floor. It was, of course, a nostalgic sound and sensation that this woman who was once widowed experienced; reminding her of happy times of her youth which were now long passed. Striding between the peaks of houses and shops was something that Anne had been doing since she was a wee teen; running free to get the daily delivery of her father’s freshly baked bread, and waving to the people underneath herself cheerfully. However, these experiences were not what her mind was most strongly drawn when cast back as she crossed the town more via air than by land; what Mrs Brennan was most reminded of as she sped through the slate and the sky was her ‘mister’, and the chases they had.

By the time that she had met the young man named James Brennan, the young Miss Henry as she was known back then, had already become rather adept in the art that some in the world might call ‘Parkour’; making her daily delivery rounds in a fraction of the time a footman might need to follow the floor. However, the male who liked the name of Jim, while spirited, could not compare in his skills. Day after day he seemed to chase her, wanting to make a stranger bond between them, and day after day, he eventually fell down and ‘lost’. In the beginning, Anne had found the Brennan boy to be an annoyance; a pest that interfered with her combined work and hobby, but as time passed by, this began to change. There was something endearing about the lad’s enduring passion to chase her, regardless of the heights he seemed to fall from, and the bandages that swarmed over him due to these mishaps. Eventually, he did indeed catch her, though with tactics that perhaps were more down to Anne’s own lacking attempt to escape, than young James’s ability to chase her; and that was only the beginning of their adventure, even if it did end up being cut short.

Jim, I wonder what we’d be doing together now? Glancing to her side, for a second, Mrs Brennan imagined the sight of her grinning husband darting alongside herself; the pair of them soaring through the skies like a pair of lovebirds. It was with regret that the young pirate woman now had to face reality, and that same pain of her heart was what also steeled her resolve to continue on.
Just you watch; I’ll build a crew that will make both of us proud… Pushing her head downward, the slightest sparkle of a teardrop swept off the girl’s cheek as she forced the feeling of sadness at her beloved’s loss back down, and plunged on with her charge across the Marine-held town’s skies, like a mountain wind rushing over the war torn landscape.

With a speed over the sky that many a migratory bird might have envied, in short time, the widow made her way toward the frame of the Marine Checkpoint, which sat at the edge of the town, right in the middle of the wall that presumably protected the buildings from the worst of the combat that might occur beyond it.
Marines aren’t gonna just let a pirate waltz through their front door… While perhaps not the sharpest knife in one’s draw in terms of mental acuity, Anne was however, experienced enough to know not to push her luck further. The squad from earlier on had not noticed what she was, but the woman had to expect that something as strict as a checkpoint had to be far more stringent in their assessment. Time was also a-waisting, and so Anne did not expect that she would have much of it to spare ‘waiting in line’ while the white-suited soldiers sorted their affairs out. There was only one option now; rather than going ‘under’ the checkpoint, she would need to go ‘over’.

Looks like they're not counting on people trying to break out of here… As she closed in on her target, Anne observed that, while the wall was high, it was not terribly distant from the structures within it; if there had been a long jump, she may have been in trouble, but it seemed that if the pirate chose the right path, she could easily hop along the rooftops and over the wall that barred her way.
It’s a bit out of my way… Veering off the beeline she was making for the checkpoint, Anne struck from one rooftop and to another, dancing through the air like a Ninja or some other assassin of legend, ploughing through the tile-tops toward the flat face of the wall beyond.
But it’s still faster. Stopping for a fraction that seemed to cause time to slow and spread the movement into a passing of several seconds, the free runner absorbed the momentum of her previous ‘charge’ into a tight crouch, focusing her movement into the next stage of her ‘plan’.

Like a spring coiled, the stored energy from the woman’s legs was released, and she shot into the sky, much further and faster than the pace at which she had previously been moving. Arcing through the air, for the first time, the captain saw the brown-coloured battlefield that lay ahead of her, stained with the shell holes and blood that had raged between the two sides. There was, however, no time to linger or see the sights, as quickly gravity began to argue with the trajectory that this young woman had intended. The peak of her climb having been passed, Mrs Brennan quickly saw the landscape in front of herself be swallowed by the wall, as her direction became toward the ground once again. Thrusting her arms and feet forward, the acrobatic Anne clawed for the edge of the wall with all her limbs, and snagged its rim with the trained tips of her fingers. Where most ‘average’ people may have felt their grip now loosened, the well-honed digits of this particular dame felt no particular inclination toward allowing the woman’s weight to drop, and instead dug into the stone wall to prevent this occurrence. As her pinkies pulled her body away from gravities grasp, the widow now relied on her lower extremities to finish the job, as heels were dug in to flip her over the cusp of the wall.

Now rolling forward by a new force of momentum, the frame of this femme flicked over the tip of the wall’s top, and once again she began to fall, this time facing the floor.
One obstacle out of the way… Not at all faltering from this fate, rather than panic, the experienced mind and means of Anne kicked into action, quite literally, as the young woman relied once more on her feet to ‘fix’ her falling. Driving her toes into now the battlefield-forward face of the wall, Anne’s movement was changed once more, from a distinctly downward plunge and into something a little bit more progressive. Her momentum now forcing her form both forward and down, the Mrs now moved through the air diagonally, toward the muddy earth in front of her. For a second or two enjoying the rush of the atmosphere around her body, quickly the pirate adjusted herself once more, curling her body into a ball before impact, and instead rolling along the floor like a wild barrel. Spinning like the wheel, as the force with which she travelled began to diminish, this pirate girl slammed her heel into the ground and brought herself into a controlled stop, crouching like she were about to propose.
Well, that could have gone a lot worse… Standing herself up once more, the free runner felt quite pleased with herself as she glanced toward the wall now behind her, dusting off the debris that she had caught on her descent…

[Deleted]

Ransom lingered near the checkpoint's exit for a few moments, but the glares of the increasingly tense soldiers eventually became enough to convince him to be on his way, not wanting to push his luck. Loitering close to the pirate side of the wall, his body gradually shifted into what most would consider a very strange pose; knees bent and angled to the right, head craned to the left. He drew a deck of Hanafuda cards from his vest, then crossed his arms at the elbow and began shuffling through them with apparent ease.

Having adopted a proper pondering stance, he allowed himself to become lost in thought, considering his next course of action. Ransom knew that if the armored pirate captain had serious plans to attack the Marine base, a courier was unlikely to dissuade him. He thought back to the idle fantasy he had entertained of somehow intimidating or defeating the pirates, and felt like kicking himself.

"I should have never gotten myself involved. I'm really not cut out for this kind of thing," he thought, staring into the foreboding no-man's-land that stood between him and the pirate paradise that made up the other half of the island. "But I can't just abandon them..."

Ransom was so busy trying to think of a way out of the tight situation that he had found himself in that he failed to notice the red haired pirate captain flying over his head until she had already landed, rolling to a stop in front of him. He barely got a look at her before his reflexes took over, launching himself roughly forward with a yelp of surprise, but a still mostly blank expression. His limbs flew out of their odd configuration, scattering the cards on the ground around him.

"Did she just fall out of the sky?" Ransom knelt down to collect his cards, but kept his eyes on the figure in front of him. It was difficult to draw any conclusions about her, but she most certainly didn't look like a Marine. He stood still for a moment, unsure if she had seen him or not. It took him a moment to realize that he was already shuffling the cards he had picked up, the telltale clacking sound giving away his presence.

[EriChar]

What’s that; a clock? Eager to move off and get her journey underway, Anne Brennan’s attention was divided between the path that she sought to proceed upon, and the oddly repetitive noise in her vicinity. It was a strange sort of sound, with a regular rhythm similar to a clock, but not quite the exact same timbre to the sound.
Nah, not a clock… Realizing it was unlikely that a clock had been left on the floor in the cannonball scarred land, the young pirate girl’s mind quickly took a step to the side from the immediate thought of a clock, and to what sounded similar to a clock but wasn’t really a clock. Rolling her jaw from side to side, and her lips being forced to sway against one another, the captain scanned the information she had within the rusty trap that was her brain, tapping her cheek with her pointer finger, while trying to figure out what the sound could be if not a clock,
“A BOMB!?” It was perhaps natural to assume that, if not the sound of clockwork keeping time for visual display purposes, that this so constant and curious of noises, was a timer instead to mark a countdown; and on a battlefield, the decrease of figures in a mechanical device usually led up to one thing; a big, bad bang.
Flinching up onto one leg, her hands in front of her face, Anne turned toward the direction that the sound had come from, and instead of the sight of a shell or stick of dynamite, ticking away, she found no such mechanical repetition.


“Ah…” Remaining in the panicked pose she had assumed following her presumption of nearby ordinance, Mrs Brennan remained as one-legged and pink as a flamingo, though the latter more from embarrassment, as she eyed the form of another person occupying the land that belonged to no man.
So, those cards are making that sound, huh? Still standing on one leg, but lowering her arms slightly, Anne stared at the source of the sound she had been slowly startled by; a deck of cards being rapped around by dextrous hands, and found a subtle hypnotism about the echoing noise. While by no means great enough to lull the woman into sleep, or make her susceptible to suggestion, the monotonous sound that the rapped deck made was intriguing in its own way, and to a small level disarmed the woman from her state of previous panic.

“Oh, uh…” Slowly, as if hit by Noroma photons, the pirate lowered her leg back down to the floor and pulled her arms apart, to properly focus on the situation. It was quite unexpected to find another person in the brown and battered area of the island in which she now stood, and combined with the distraction that the card shuffling had provided, proved a temporary distraction for the woman from her dash to find further friends in this land. A little on the absent-minded side, this wasn’t the first time that Mrs Brennan’s quest would be interrupted by something innocent and invisibly ‘shiny’ and attention grabbing to her, and it certainly would not be the final occurrence either.

“Hi. Are you crossing the battlefield too?” Casually, at the sight of the fellow traveller, almost on reflex, Anne tossed out a greeting to the boy; as if she had bumped into him while walking down a backstreet. It was perhaps lucky at this point, with Anne’s current lacking level of attention toward her surroundings, that the Pirate and Marine forces either side of the pair were not currently trading blows and barrages between them. The dirty, crater-filled land that the two now stood in was certainly a reminder that these kinds of skirmishes were not a rare occurrence here; the earth around them was barren, devoid of any sort of animal or plant life, as it had all been burned and blasted away by the bombardment that both parties seemed keen on exchanging. If anything, it seemed a rare occurrence that these lands were not filled with some sort of exchange of fire, fist and sword, which was possibly a stroke of luck for this duo? Or maybe it was an ominous sign of things to come? The two of them could easily now be experiencing that eerie calm that was the eye of the storm, with the real terror yet to pass over them.


“Oh, crap! No time to chat; I have things to do!” Anne did not really pick up on the feeling of tension in the quietness of the battlefield, but did however, realize something; she was standing still. Remembering that she had a whole island to cross, and wanting her ‘business’ in this land cleared up as soon as possible, the absence of the young woman’s mind once again became occupied with her task, and the girl knew she needed to get moving again. At any moment now, the allies of her dreams could be being courted by the charm of another captain.
They could be being snatched out from right under her nose! Admittedly, said snout would have to have been rather large for it to cover any sort of person who was the best part of an island away, but it was more a metaphorical usage of the phrase. And for once, Mrs Brennan actually had the idiom largely correct.

“See ya!” Lifting her knee’s up and down in front of herself, practically high enough that they bounced above her ribs, Anne cracked the same sort of mix of wave and salute to the person she had found in the battlefield, before turning and beginning her charge over the war torn land.
You’re not going to steal them away from meeeeeeee! Imagining the forms of her longed for, but entirely imaginary, new crewman turning to follow the broad back of another leader, this captain gritted her teeth and drove her feet into the ground as hard as she could. Her sprint casting a mist of dry earth behind her, Anne Brennan sped over no man’s land with as much speed as he strong legs could produce, determined not to leave any prospective ally behind her…

[Deleted]

Despite the momentary calm that had overtaken the battlefield, Ransom still had a more than healthy awareness of the danger that the area held. So much so that just hearing the word "bomb" was enough to scare him out of his lurking position, bringing him to his feet and scattering his limbs at odd angles, both knees bent slightly in preparation to leap away. His shuffling grew reckless as he began trying to concoct an escape plan before he was blown to bits.

But as the woman across from him calmed down, he pieced together what had made her so worried. Almost mirroring Anne, he worked his body out of its panicked position, slowly returning to a casual stance, and exhaled deeply, the sound echoing across the barren battlefield.

"Maybe this isn't such a good place for these," he said in a way that he hoped would sound friendly, but the tension of the area around them weighed heavily on his attempt to be disarming. Ransom held a vest pocket open with one hand and flicked the cards into it with the other. He finally managed to get a good look at the woman, his sharp eyes carefully watching her body language. Ransom was taken aback slightly, being unused to examining someone so visually expressive.

He also couldn't help but notice the gold ring on her left hand, shining slightly in the sunlight that beat down on the battlefield. "None of this tells me anything about who she is...probably not a marine, and a pirate would never survive on that side of the island, but if she really made it over the barrier, she can't be an ordinary person. It can't hurt to ask her." Ransom cleared his throat and took a step closer to Anne before introducing himself. "Hello! My name is-" But Ransom had hesitated for too long. Before he could even spit out the first syllable of his name, Anne had interrupted him, and was well on her way, inadvertently spraying him with dirt as she sped off.

"Damn! She's fast," Ransom said as he wiped the dust from his face. "It's not too late to back out, but I'm getting a feeling like I should declare 'koi koi.' Let's see where this leads. He took off behind her, his grin growing subtly wider as he picked up speed. Two steps in, however, he was forced to double back, scooping up the few remaining cards on the ground that he had forgotten.

A seasoned foot courier himself, Ransom was no slowpoke, but couldn't match the speed and agility that Anne ran with. Not only did she have a head start, but the Ransom was unused to running on such uneven ground, the no-man's-land having been heavily scarred by the endless battle. The locale did afford him one advantage: with the barren skyline and Anne's vibrant red hair, it was easy for Ransom to keep sight of her. As she had said, her path was seemingly cutting a straight line right to the pirate side of the island. Ransom knew that as long as he could keep the pace, he wouldn't soon lose her, but he had little chance of actually catching up to her.

"I need to catch her attention somehow!" Ransom thought, hopping over a deep cannonball scar in the earth. ""Miss! Please slow down for a second!" It was no use. Either Anne couldn't hear him from this distance, or she was simply too determined to stop. ""Looks like I only have one card left to play. I'll have to use my 'ability!"

Ransom began pushing himself well out of his comfort zone, increasing his speed to the point where he was able to shrink the gap between himself and Anne to just a few meters, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep this up for long. As he ran, a silver zipper quickly crawled up his arm in a spiral pattern, and when he felt the timing was right, he flicked the zipper open partially. "Tanzaku!" Ransom suddenly stopped, throwing all of his strength into a wild haymaker that opened the zipper the rest of the way, the material stretching out as his fist flew from his body.

Anne, of course, was still moving, so for the moment all Ransom could do was hope that he had made his calculations correctly. As the detached fist approached the pirate captain's back, its index finger extended. Rather than landing a punch, Ransom had performed a firm but harmless tap on the back of her shoulder.

Ransom sharply pulled his tethered hand back to him and began closing the zipper, hoping both that he had caught the woman's attention and that he could restore his arm before she realized how he had managed to touch her. He was very much out of breath now, and knew that if this gambit failed, the mysterious woman would speed off into the pirate district without him.

[EriChar]

I… Am… The wind! Darting over the craters, crevices and mounds that littered this brown-stained landscape, while the scene around her could have been considered somewhat dismal and discouraging, Anne Brennan did not seem particularly disheartened by it. Quite to the contrary, as she sped across the land, at a brisk pace that your average others might have known as a sprint, the girl actually seemed to be happy; bearing a broad grin as she strode into the air in front of her. While it might have been a somewhat depressing environment over which she was now running, the sense of optimism that this girl held toward her future task helped to keep her mood level from dipping too low and combined with this, the pirate was actually enjoying the chance to dash around like she was now. While she loved to run from rooftop to rooftop, the source of this sense of enjoyment lay in the freedom of movement that the action presented. In built up areas, the most open space was usually the area above the buildings, the skies and the rooftops were a playground that few explored, but those who did, were rewarded with a world of fun and opportunity. Now, like a dog who had been released from their owners grasp, the experience that Anne had in this pounded by shell flat land was remarkably similar; she could just let herself go, and run without abandon. There were a great many people who found enjoyment in subtlety and complication, but for this pirate captain, it was the simple things which brought her the most enjoyment.

Like all good things, sooner or later, the mad, wild, and fast dash that Mrs Brennan made across the land would come to an end, but in this example; it came sooner than the girl herself might have expected. Hoping she could cross the majority of the island without stopping, keeping her fast pace up so she could sweep across the earth in as little time as possible, and get to her destination all the sooner, the redhead found that her final step in this charge came rather too quickly; not reaching her target, but rather responding to a sensation. Feeling the brush of something firm on her back; what it was she did not know, the instincts of this pirate fighter took over, and quickly she moved to respond to the unwelcome intrusion into her dash. Running at a pace that she could not simply drive her heels into the ground and stop with any level of reasonable response, the instinct of the girl had her instead continue to move forward, but absorb the momentum from her body into the floor. Thrusting her frame forward, the seasoned pirate combatant threw herself over her shoulder, rolling like a loose barrel until the feet which were previously snapping back and forth, stamped into the ground. With much of her previous speed lost to the drag that her downward roll had created, it was now much easier for the young woman’s heels to absorb what was left of her motion, and quickly, the girl was now facing in the opposite direction, in order to catch sight of what had quite literally grabbed her attention.

It was in this search for the source of her disturbance, that Anne saw it; looking behind her, she once again saw the fellow who had earlier been shuffling his cards, but this time, he had a very strange looking arm. Moments moving like minutes, in slow motion, the pirate girl’s slackened jaw plummeted to the ground, as she saw the most bizarre of things; the person whom earlier she had greeted, now seemed to be pulling back an arm that was a good many feet longer than it should have been.
“Huh, did your arm just go all stretchy?” Mystified by the motion that the man’s limb seemed to make, with her mouth still wide like a maw, Mrs Brennan’s focus on the strangeness of this circumstance so much that even her neck began to lose its stability; the widow’s head falling to the side as she struggled to understand what was going on. A woman of the world, this lady with scarlet-coloured tresses had seen all sorts of strange things while she had been in the grand line; users of strange powers that could provide a great deal of odd effects, or even transform themselves into animals. This was, however, her first experience with those rarest of individuals; a Devil Fruit User, within the blue sea. At this precise moment, the amazement that the girl felt overwhelmed her ability to identify it as such, but this wasn’t the first time that this girl had seen an ‘ability user’.

“Ha ha ha, that’s pretty cool; are you like a magician or something?” It was, however, perhaps one of the most interesting one that she had seen so far; body morphing effects were always the best…