Final Stretch! Dreams of Tomorrow!

[Tori Tori Chopper]

Only a day or so has passed since the event that has been named the 'Hard-Hat Homecoming' had come and gone in all its glory, the marines leaving little time through the weather and destroyed ships that scattered the docks to chase them in force. The weather had come to a peaceful standstill, clear skies and scorching temperatures resting upon the Jericho for the majority of their free sailing. Eimi had no choice but to tag along with her brother after the event, settling in nicely with the crew by sleeping the majority of the time. The dust had settled, wounds had begun to heal and hope for the future had been a topic on everyone's mind, and more so his crew as far as Torin was concerned, the Grand Line awaited, a thing his crew probably wanted more than himself now... Though thoughts of connecting with the ones he calls Nakama slowly came to the front of his mind.

______________________________

'So was this how you wanted it?'

It was by far the earliest Torin had been up in a long time, ever come to think of it. He had been watching the sun rise for yet another day, something he was hardly able to do back when he was underground for most of his day. He found peace in it, an excuse to start anew every time it came back up. New things to do, more people to see, more places to visit... It was all a bit poetic for Torin, maybe he should have just stayed asleep, he was freaking himself out. His sister had woken up after days of solid sleep to sit beside Torin another atop the front of the ship, stitched and bandaged to the best of Torin's and Robin's ability, after all these hectic escapades and adventure it was nice to just be able to catch up with his Sister. 'You remember what we used to talk about? The Old man wanted the world of us..' Eimi was seated almost insecure like, which was weird for the woman, her legs up close and her arms wrapped around them as she sunk her face into her knees. 'He wanted us to be marines, hang around together and reforge them like he would!' Torin put on the Old man's voice as he finished his sentence, a chuckle bouncing between the both of them. 'How's the helmet?' She got a grunt in response, it was a lot harder to repair a triple reinforced metal plated steel woven helmet, in comparison to your normal helmet that is. 'It looks better at least.' Torin sighed at the simple thought of the work he'd have to put into it, only made his sister laugh quietly once again.

'Do they know much about them?' Torin turned to look at Eimi directly, curiosity lighting up his face. 'Mom? Dad? The Old man?' Torin shook his head. 'It's never been important.' His consequence was a light nudge with Eimi's knee, shaking her head with a drawn out sigh. 'I've been with a lot of crews, Torin. If you don't connect with them... You'll be in this situation all the time.' Torin didn't know whether to feel advised or insulted. 'Don't give me that face either, you know what I meant.' Torin gave a light smile, he found it funny how Eimi was always the one talking with them, he only had to make a motion and she knew exactly what he was talking about. He turned to look over the boat, imagining everyone sleeping in there respective places. 'All because of me..' 'They look up to you, Torin.'

'What? No... I'm like the smart guy who assigned himself.'
'You're their captain, how do you think they all got here?'
'I dunno.. I just..'

'Exactly, you just.. You' Torin would have blushed had he not been such a man and control such unmanly feelings... Yea, lets call it that. 'You think they should know then?' Eimi nodded, standing up on the turtles head and stretching one limb after the other. 'I think they should tell you, get to know them, they'll be around longer than you think.' And with that the wise woman departed, Torin giving his helmet a quick tap as the patch up would have to do, taking out his notepad he flipped through the pages and pulled out an unused picture. 'What am I going to do with you guys..' He pressed the picture against his forehead, putting the parent picture back to the book, slipping to the right page and beginning his new ideas... amazing how many ideas can come from blowing up a town. Everything else could wait for now.

They were safe, after all.

[/size]

[Deleted]

"Avast me hearties! You picked the wrong ship to mess with, Torin fetch me my hat... Uh-oh! Look out Darius, I'll save you--"

Perhaps it was the rise of the sun, the muffled talking in the not so distant vicinity or maybe his own mumblings, whatever it was the musician found that he was... regrettably, awake. Groggily his eyes opened, yesterday had been a late night as was frequent for Taro. He rarely slept in his bed at all, preferring the ocean and stars for company. It was an escape from crew life, a time for just him where everything slowed down; it gave him time to reflect. A book lay open on the musician’s chest, what was his songbook was now also a journal, scrawling away throughout the night; he’d managed to summarise his life and the Hard-Hats up until now. It was evidence of such reflecting. Although the perspective maybe a little Taro-centric, that was to be expected seeing as a songbook come journal was nothing if not personal. As such he clutched it to his chest instinctively upon site of his Captain. Part of him wanted the journal read, but a larger part told him that journal was just a word people used to make diaries sound less pathetically emotional. Only the songs would be shared.

Letting out a massive yawn, he alerted Torin of his presence with the monotonous droning of someone just awake. “Mornin’, unusual for anyone else to be above deck so early...”

His eyes were full of sleep, he raised his hands to rectify the problem, but in place of a finger he found instead a metallic cylinder. Clumsily poking himself in the eye, Taro glanced down at his hands and was greeted with the rude reminder of what had happened these past few days, “Oh yeah.” It still didn’t seem quite real, it was like that feeling when you wake up somewhere odd but think you’re at home. Only instead the musician woke up every morning believing that he was an ordinary human, although even without the new fruit powers that wouldn’t be true. Letting out a long, self-pitying sigh the musician’s body lost the will to hold itself together, collapsing into an intangible sprawling mass of limbs and hinges. “Pleh...” was the only comment given as he was forced to enter what he had dubbed ‘heap mode.’ Still it was the forceful awakening he needed, alertness finally arrived and with a small injection of willpower his body reverted to its natural state. He’d been practicing.

Yesterday returned to the forefront of his mind, unwittingly he and Torin had resolved to do the same thing, get to know the crew better. They’d done this sharing thing before, in an awkward and brief manner, nevertheless the guitarist had some base knowledge of both Darius’ and Torin’s pasts, as indeed they did of his. The other crew members were still creatures of mystery, ‘what motivated Robin to join? What did Imuka do to be tied to that post?’ Both questions were in the forefront of the song-writer’s mind. ‘Ah that’s right, Roguetown... I had a song to write.’ Flourishing his pen the musician worked quickly, he’d already mused upon this and had everything basically figured out. Unusually for a musician, Taro preferred to do the lyrics first, for him a song should have a message – the melody always came easily. In a few moments he was done, he looked down at the words and for once didn’t screw his face up in repulsion. He was moderately happy with that. Reaching for Alisha, the song was ready for its trial run. Grasping at his plectrum necklace something odd happened. Numbness radiated up through his fingers as his body began to lose his strength. He relinquished the plectrum and in turn his strength returned. “Weird,” he commented half to himself. He traced his hand around the shell, no reaction. His eye was drawn to the green gem at its centre, slowly he reached out and touched it and was greeted with confirmation. That had never happened before, ‘wait could it be...’ – “seastone?” he finished his question aloud. Why had Pete given him a plectrum with a seastone centre, ‘a good luck charm, could it have been to ward off devil fruit users? Kinda’ ironic.’ No matter he had a few spare plectrums in his wallet. Still he’d ask Darius or Eimi to touch it at some point to confirm what he suspected was true. For now he had a song to work on.

((The Songbook/Journal))

[Cirrus]

Sunlight...

The ball of fire in the sky bled emotion onto the serene sea, which acted as an aqueous mirror for all that looked into the watery soul of the planet on which they lived. The sunlight also fell on something equally as deep, or so he'd tell you. Resting prone on the wooden floorboards of the Jolly Jericho was a black haired teen in a distinguishing striped jacket. With the healing rays of the sun on his skin and sobering contemplation of the time just passed in his mind, Darius Fox, swordsman and navigator of the Hard-Hat Pirates, wanted head of 24,500,000 beri, and currently, recumbent ruler of the arboreal realm, opened his eyes. He had recently been sleeping with intent to let the world around him heal his wounds, but something had stirred within him; the primal force of the internal clock's alarm bells had roused him from his slumber. His tranquil state of insensibility scattered to the winds, Darius clenched his teeth as pain coursed through his body; obviously he hadn't quite fully recovered. It was a dull pain; the kind that claws at bones and gnaws at tenacity, like some dog of damnation whose only twisted instinct is to cause others to fail. And as he tried to get to his feet, the swordsman of the Hard-Hat crew realised that said mutt was out of the kennel, and biting rabidly at his ankles, and his legs, and his chest, and pretty much everywhere.

He wasn't too pleased about this.

But he could do nothing. All thoughts of invincibility had long since vacated his mind as he just lay there on the deck, waiting for someone to encounter him, to rescue him. God he felt so helpless, so pathetic...It wasn't good enough.

Darius, despite the pain, steered his head towards the rising sun. Where were the Arrow Gang right now? The sun, with its international glow, was shining on wherever his old friends were right now. He wondered if they knew about his recent exploits. He wondered if they cared. If he was any one of the urchins from Saint Reia, he certainly would have discarded any care; he had simply up and left them after one bad mission, after one major mistake. He'd tossed them aside for his own goals...his own selfish goals, and for what? For the opportunity to get battered to smithereens, in a state where moving was hell and hell was moving; the marines were constantly after his scalp, and the scalp of his new nakama too.

And yet he didn't regret it.

How could he? Torin, Taro, Imuka, Robin...they were all exceptional people; all life-changing people. They saved his life. What none of them knew was on the fateful day Darius encountered Torin and Taro he was teetering on the brink of despair. Vicissitudes had amassed within his life, tainting every experience like a cancer; swarming his body with listlessness and anguish. Darius was in Fuschia Town to give up. To die. Back then he was a coward; there were no two ways about it. Scared of death, but more fearful of going after life, Darius Fox had been down on his luck, down on his hopes, and down on himself. It was only through witnessing the carefree abandon with which the Hard-Hats, which at that time were a simple duo, operated. Their happiness had rubbed off on him, changing him, saving him. The Hard-Hat swordsman had been to through the darkness and come out of the other end. Happier. Braver. Stronger.

Alive.

And it was that memory that filled his mind, filled his being; that thought that flushed out all others, all other feelings of pain and agony. It was the notion of nakama saving nakama that allowed him to bask in the sun's life-giving rays like the majestic epitome of reckless and insurmountable bravado he was, and culminate his revival, his resurgence, with one simple phrase.

"What's the story, morning glory?"

And glorious he was.

They all were, really; the Hard-Hats had come out of Roguetown alive. They had superseded the might of the marine force in East Blue, and now they were on their merry way to the Grand Line; they were getting closer to the edge of dreams. The edge of glory. And they'd get there, in the end; they'd get there together, as something that transcended friendship, transcended a simple pirate crew. They'd get there as nakama.

Darius walked languidly -- not of his own volition, the pain was much too great for anything faster -- towards where the sound of his nakama talking amongst themselves originated from. As he no doubt came into view, he wondered what they were talking about. To be honest, he hadn't a clue. Despite all the time they'd spent together, they hadn't done much other than fight the tyranny of the marines and blow things up. He didn't really know, really know, much about any of them -- except for maybe Taro. Torin's past was still an enigma, yet the swordsman could remember the hard-hatted captain relating it in some sort of detail. It was at this point he caught the eyes of a new addition to the Jolly Jericho's typical entertainers; yet another girl, and one he'd been in heated combat with: Eimi. Darius neglected to ask the obvious, rather choosing to allow his mind to go down a different route -- was she as much of a mystery as the captain? Perhaps she would be less frugal with the details...

And then there was Imuka.

No doubt wherever she was on the ship she was wearing that typical calcified expression. When they'd found her, she'd been tied to a post by her ex-comrades -- what exactly had she done? Darius' memories of his experiences with the blue haired gunner made him think it was something to do with some fool, that enormous gun of hers, and a whole lot of pain. The first time he'd even come near her, he'd been held up against a wall with her death grip on his throat and her death glare burning with cold fire through his skull. Not the kind of girl, he supposed, that'd be up for a deep meaningful chat.

And what about Robin?

She'd simply been merged into the crew when Torin saw fit; they all needed a doctor and she'd obliged. Why? She had no reason to. Darius wouldn't say this to her face...but she was the oldest. More like a mother than a privateer, Robin had kept herself to herself; the only thing she opened up was a box of medical supplies when one of her boys got into a scrape. But she'd been busy in Roguetown, no doubt...Darius distinctly remembered someone somewhere shouting about another marine, another senior marine, being taken out of the chaos of the affair by one of the Hard-Hats. By way of elimination, it had to have been by Robin's hand that forced whatever marine to withdraw.

And Taro...

Taro was Taro -- nothing much more too him than that. Simple, or at least Darius thought so, and much more of a romanticist than he'd let on at first...Even so, he'd gotten noticeably stronger with that newly acquired hinge fruit of his...it was like he was folding the gap between their strengths in half. This troubled the swordsman -- were they to become rivals? Competitions were never his forte; he always ended up destroying his opponents. Darius had killed two men, such was his need to win. Despite what he might have said in reaction to drunken antics, the swordsman actually liked Taro; killing him wasn't really on the agenda, or so he hoped.

He himself was a mystery...

Spontaneous, zany, wild; they were the building blocks -- of a pretty unstable building, some would say, but a building nonetheless. What shape was the building, wondered the swordsman. Jagged, dark and edgy -- a spire of hatred of the monster he had become; a monster the marines had created through their lies? Or a castle with a lemonade moat and awesome music blaring through the ramparts? He didn't know. He didn't care to know -- such knowledge would be wasted on Darius anyway. Perhaps it would be decided by these people around him...his nakama...

It would all go down, one way, or the other. There was only one constant, one thing that stayed the same regardless or not Darius liked it.

Sunlight...

Somehow, no matter what choices he made, life would go on. The sun would rise, and it would set, but it would always be back again to bring hope to all it watched. Maybe it was that fact that kept him so carefree, so zany; without the burden of hopeless responsibility to weigh him down, Darius could do what he liked, say what he liked, and be whoever he wanted to be. Of course, such blithe optimism would nine times out of ten result in a good thumping from Imuka's raging fist, but the principle remained the same.

[Kurosaki]

As the morning sun streamed through the windows, Robin lay almost oblivious to its presence. As it increased in brightness and the rays focused their sights upon her through the small window of the Jolly Jericho, eye muscles twitched in reaction and her body instinctively pulled away from the light, yearning for more rest tat she undoubtedly needed in order to recover from the trauma of the day before.

And yet there could be no easy retreat for her. Pain slowly flared up on her stomach both from her own motion and from the pain medicine's slowly waning effects. Her subconscious mind begged for her to get up and her dreams dispelled into nightmares as a result.

The face of the man that had walked past and watched her parents suffer as they were crushed. Because they were weak. Weak and couldn't help themselves.

Robin bolted, flinging off the covers. Sweat had broken out on her forehead but it wasn't as a result of her injury. The fever was temporary and began to die down as thoughts of the nightmare faded into the back of her mind; Robin willing herself to forget the memories and to focus on the here and now.

It worked at least for the moment. Pulling back her nightshirt, she checked to see what the bandages looked like this morning and the actual wound. While checking, she found that everything looked like it was healing properly though the healing process itself was slow. After redressing the wound she popped a few pills that she had mixed up the day before. The supplies for the pain medicine though was a little low. She would have to be sure to restock up when they landed on the next island. For now she would use them sparingly but that would be enough for a few weeks as long as it was only her and Imuka taking the meds.

Speaking of which, Robin made a mental note to check on the other female member of the crew as soon as possible. Of course, she meant Imuka. Eimi wasn't an official member and her presence didn't seem to be the same as the others. It was just a feeling that Robin had but she doubted that she was planning on staying as a Hard Hat pirate.

Taking a few tentative steps, she moved outside slowly trying not to make too much noise simply because she didn't want everyone to fuss about her being up and about despite her injuries when they noticed. Then again, they would probably notice no matter how quiet or sneaky she was about it.

Even if she was caught though that would be alright. Mostly she just needed to stretch her legs. Despite her injuries the worst thing she could do was just lay in bed all day. As long as she didn't start doing jumping jack's the stitches in her would hold up fine and she would heal enough to have them removed completely in two weeks or so.

[Die]

The first detonation. The girl twitched.

The second detonation. She shut her eyes tight.

The chain reactions and the bright flames followed by the thick, black smoke. She groaned in pain as she gripped the covers tightly.

The sound of reinforced armor being pierced. The girl clutched her side.

Imuka’s eyes opened wide as she awoke abruptly. The sounds of the battle from the day before echoed in the back of her mind, but they faded into the sunlight and calm waves of the present. The light streamed in through the window, its warming, soothing qualities offset by the blinding brightness it brought with it. Imuka placed a hand in front of her face to block it out. She immediately regretted that decision however, as a massive wave of pain coursed through her body. Soreness and aches mixed themselves with more serious, piercing pains. It felt as though she had been drilled full of holes, frozen solid, and then hit with a hammer. She clenched her teeth and tensed up, waiting for it to die down. She felt the worst of it down at her side. Bearing the grunt of the pain, Imuka pushed off the bed covers and looked down at her body. Much of her torso had been wrapped in bandages, along with her left shoulder and the upper portion of her left arm. She knew that would have happened after remembering the injuries she sustained when taking down the muscle-bound oaf, Brick. What attracted her attention the most were the bandages and wound dressing on her lower side, as that was where it hurt the most. Quickly, she looked over to the nightstand. It was not hard to notice the small container with “pain medicine” scribbled on it and a small cup of water. She frantically reached for the nightstand, knocking over another vial and grabbed the container, tapping out two pills and taking them immediately with a gulp of water. It took a few minutes for the pain to subside, after which she leaned forward in her bed with her elbow resting on her leg and her face in her hand.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember exactly what had happened. It wasn’t hard at all to remember most of their horribly short time in Loguetown, what with the uproar Torin started by practically demolishing half of the Marine base. She smiled weakly to herself when she recalled beating the living crap out of Brick, that revenge was satisfying in itself. Her smile grew as she recalled how much help she had gotten from her old friend Griff at his machine shop. Everything was fine up until the series of explosions. Those memories were the most vivid, but also the most confusing. The series of explosions had thrown everything into disarray.”F*ck…why can’t I remember?” she hissed in frustration as she lightly smacked her forehead a few times.

The gunner looked back outside the window. It really was bright. She made a mental note to move her bed at her earliest convenience so as to not wake up again with sun in her face. She recalled a saying one of the men in her old artillery team once said, "The night is darkest just before the dawn." She played it off as another one of his elderly proverbs, but looking back on it now, she found it unsettling just how literal those words had become. The last thing she could recall was the loud ringing of something fast slamming into thick metal. After that, nothing. It was obvious from the lack of explosions or loud noises in general that they had successfully escaped Loguetown, and the Marine blockade they would have most likely set-up to prevent that escape.

This unusual silence and solitude allowed the Gunner to do some more much needed deep pondering. She wondered who had managed to successfully drag her back onto the Jolly Jericho. Did her armor make it back with her? Just as importantly...what about her weapon? She stopped herself there. Were those two really that much more important to her than the people she had been traveling with only recently? Who were they really? She had fought alongside them, wreaking havoc on the Marines and the World Government with tons of explosions for only a few weeks now, but she knew virtually nothing about them.

And yet...

And yet they reminded her of her old nakama so much. How was it that they were so similar? Everything had become confusing in such a short time. Out of more frustration, Imuka slammed her fist against the wall just behind her. She regretted that decision as well, as not even the pain medication could stop the pain from her sniper wound radiating in waves throughout her body. She clenched her teeth in pain again. Luckily for her, the pain subsided quickly this time around, due in no small part to the pain meds. Always the restless spirit, Imuka stubbornly got out of bed, despite more logical advice telling her to stay in bed and recuperate some more. She stood up, and then stumbled forward. Whatever the hell had happened to her, it seemed to have robbed her of much of her strength. She knew she wasn't back up to one hundred percent, but that didn't stop her. She took another step. Her foot brushed up against something that rolled off in front of her. It was the vial she had knocked over earlier. Picking it up, she inspected the contents. It was a bullet, but not the typical ball pellets most Marines and pirates used. No, this was larger and pointed. It resembled a much smaller version of the high explosive penetrating rounds she used. The tip of the bullet had been horribly deformed, as evidenced by the warped and twisted appearance and the several fragments that lied at the bottom of the vial. Was this a gift from Robin? Was that what caused the severe wound to the side? She would have to answer all of these questions later. But for now, she slowly left her room, doing so out of caution for not wanting to disturb her injuries any further and because of her currently less than stellar strength. She made off in the direction of the two voices belonging to Torin and Eimi. If she wanted to stay with these people, she would have to get to know them.

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'What am I gunna go with these guys more like it.'

His crew, was it odd that it was his crew? Or the idea that there was a crew in the first place? They had the whole nine yards as far as these pirates crews were concerned, he'd read enough about them in the old days to at least know how to make one, but how in the world was he going to manage one? These were people, from all walks of life following this idiot around as if he knew what he was doing. He pushed out a yawn, a common tell when his nerves were flailing at the ends, turning to face the ship he saw that despite this ridiculous hour a person he'd never guess to be up was wandering the deck with moans and grumbles. He was about to say something when he realised Taro was still half asleep anyway, he wasn't going to get anything out of him in that state. He looked back to Eimi, the silence on the ship something he was usually sleeping through only to realise Eimi had beaten him to it. 'Dammit woman.' He sharply prodded her with the end of his foot, watching her flop to her side and snore loudly in response. The woman just had to be related to him, didn't she? May as well be dead when they were sleeping after all.

One Hard-Hat rose after another, all bearing their wounds from the previous fight. Torin has gotten lucky, a little scratch in his face and a few bumps and bruises only spelled a cool looking stitch on his face which would probably turn into a scar at any rate. The silence however was unnerving, for a person who was so used to it all he could think of was that dark hole of his he linger in not so long ago. Don't get him wrong, the place was wondrous, and silence is golden for someone like Torin. But this silence was that of an aftermath, things needed to be said to these guys apparently... And he wasn't all that good with words that needed to make sense. To otherwise occupy his mind was the two women who had joined the Hard-Hat ranks, as far as he was concerned he was well, concerned. He didn't really have a habit of feeling anything for others outside of humour and small talk, so he couldn't help but shudder slightly when the idea of the two popped into his mind uncontrollably. Was this how it was going to be the whole time though? One of them getting lost or hurting themselves and him just laying around worrying and wanting to help? It was going to be a drag as far as he saw it, but he'll give it a shot.

'Robin, I thought we agreed.' Torin said with a prolonged sigh hidden behind it as their doctor emerged from her quarters. The woman was mad, almost as mad as he was. With that wound she still wanted to wander around the deck, now that sounded like something he would do sure, but it doesn't mean anyone else was allowed to. 'Don't tell me you're out here to stretch either, you could do that in your room.' He turned his head to catch the problem of the morning, that stupid sun! 'Ow! What the! Is this boat trying to kill me!?' The windows shot beams of light into his eyes in every direction mid-travel to Robin, a quick sleepless stumble got him to the ground, rolling with a stupid noise in every rotation found himself looking up at the Doctor with a big grin on his face. 'Hey Doc~' His face scrunched slightly, no doubt ignorant of his intentions as words just spewed out of his mouth. 'You always been so full chested? Huh.. Never noticed.' He hopped onto his feet, taking his shovel from the floor and pulling a stool over from the side, pretty much forcing her onto it before kneeling back down to check her stomach. The guy was a social reject as far as he was concerned, rummaging away at a woman's clothing to see a wound was the least of his concerns.

'Your stitch is a little loose.. Thats what you get for doing it yourself.' He mumbled as the doctor-captain side of him kicked in. fiddling with the loose ends and tightening the sides. 'This is why, if you're still looking for an answer.' He said under his breath once more. He poked the stitch, standing up and being stupid enough to rustle Robin's hair before throwing his shovel back over his shoulder. 'Why I chose you, Best Doctor I know~' He avoided the blush, turning himself to adjust his eyes against the sun, voiding out his curiosities to the party which were present on the deck. 'So how about we take a break, huh?' He didn't turn to anyone specifically, more the general sea-line as he spoke, adjusting his helmet back onto his head. 'No more of this... This., for a little while.' He gestured to himself with widened arms, though he was the better off his was ripped and torn beyond belief, though that's what happens when you just wash your clothes rather than change them. 'Get to.. I dunno, know each other a little better I guess?' It sounded so stupid when he said it, not looking towards any of them helped with it though. He pointed ahead, to the mountain which slowly became a spec in the distance.

'At least until we're a bit over that thing.. Yea?'

[Deleted]

"You always been so full chested? Huh.. Never noticed." An audible thump punctuated the sentence, as the musician was forced to face palm out of sheer awkwardness. ‘I swear if he gets away with that, the world is broken.’ Not that his Captain didn’t have a point, in fact to Taro’s surprise it suddenly dawned on him that both female crew mates were quite attractive, ‘how did I miss that?’ The answer was obvious really, he was scared shitless of both women, especially since Imuka had slugged him for so much as physical contact, and so he’d definitely keep his epiphany to himself. Torin continued awkwardly, gesturing and repeating the word ‘this’ whatever this was. That was the real conundrum here. Finally Torin got around to saying what he meant, suggesting that for once the crew took it easy, got better acquainted until they arrived at the now vaguely visible, Reverse Mountain. "This Torin, this is what it's all about."

Unlike his Captain, Taro had no such qualms talking about himself and indeed unsurprisingly he actually kind of enjoyed it. Of course, it wouldn’t be the intimate truthfulness that he intended for only the journal, but in truth he already felt comfortable as a part of the Hard-Hats. Therefore it fell upon him, to break the embarrassment of the whole life stories thing, and what better way than to take the first leap?

“Ah... this again -- Well I’m Taro Span. Born to Water Seven and the son of a shipwright. Initially I was apprenticed to do the same thing, I have some basic carpentry under my belt, but I chose to use my woodworking skills to create a guitar. Not this one, but another, Alisha she was called, but we lost our ship, one we stole from Roguetown the first time we were there and I lost her with it. But I have strayed, music was always my calling – I remember sneaking out every night as a child to head to the Taverns and listen to the musicians. No surprise I ended up enjoying the occasional drink then, I guess. Anyway, I met a guy named Pete and eventually he agreed to teach me and yeah, that’s basically my life story up until much later. Eventually I realised that my songs kinda’ sucked, they had no substance and Pete imparted upon me the most key piece of information I was ever given. Music is in many ways an extension of the self, the best music comes from experience – how can you sing of love if you have never loved, adventure if you have not adventured and so the obviousness of my next step dawned upon me. I had to travel and live to find inspiration. I did just that for two years, mainly I’ll admit this involved hitch hiking and drinking – but you toughen up on the Grandline even if you’re just visiting pubs. Some of the bar fights I’ve seen make those monkeys that pass for marines around here look like children. Anyway, eventually I figure Piracy makes sense, freedom is the prerequisite to experience, and who is freer than a pirate? I came searching inspiration but first I knew I had to find a crew. I wasn’t strong enough to merit a place in a pre-established Grandline crew, so the blues seemed an obvious choice. Everyone’s heard of Roguetown, as the death place of Roger. It seems—seemed, obvious to me that then this would be a great pirate haven and so I came across on a marine vessel, using every beri I owned, plus my entertainment value to pay for the ferrying. That’s it really, my real story began in Roguetown – a story you’re all very much a part of. I know my life seems fairly dull, especially with the backgrounds I know some of you have... but that’s the truth of my life, more or less.”

Taro paused from his lengthy speaking, it occurred to him that this may not make it any less awkward for others to expose themselves, if they had endured hardships which everyone but him seemed to have done, then why would hearing of his mollycoddled, rubbish lifestory make them feel any more comfortable. He plucked a chord, he didn’t know any better ways to try and break tension, surely performance was the real self exposure. “I came in search of inspiration, but I found friends... and well plenty of substance for songs too, but friends are important, right?” Now he was awkward, but his corniness would surely remove the embarrassment aspect for the others, he was happy to play the fool – or in truth, play himself. A second chord sounded. “I wrote this just now,” his hand swept across the strings, intricately plucking as he invented the melody that matched the lyrics he’d already written.

“They killed a man in Roguetown,
He wore a crown of wave and gold,
He passed it from the gallows down,
In the last words he ever told.

Began the hunt for freedom,
And a battle for the sea,
Upon them shone the rising sun,
It ‘twas the dawn of piracy,

That was the gift upon his death,
A hope, a dream... no finite thing,
All given with his final breathe,
And on he lives... the pirate King,

It starts and ends in Roguetown,
The journey for those that dream,
Yes it starts and ends in Roguetown,
The crashing waves of destiny.”

A soft interlude concluded the musician’s song, it seemed appropriate. They had all experienced Roguetown together, some once, some twice, but for all of them it was the start of the real journey, a journey Taro had already witnessed, from the sidelines, the Grandline.

“So that’s my story I guess, but for me the real story lies ahead, over the horizon and passed that mountain. Thinking of which, how do you sail over a mountain? Is there a tunnel?”

[Cirrus]

Darius sauntered over to where his captain, his mother -- or better referred to as the crew's doctor -- and the rest of his nakama resided. Of course, it pained him greatly but the swordsman of the Hard-Hats was much too proud to allow it to show on his face. That's why his visage was a battlefield: combat between his pride and the reality of the anguish seeping up from his bones left pockmarks all over Darius' face -- a grimace here, a twitch of the eye there; all reminders of the events at Roguetown. All reminders of the sacrifices they had made to attain victory. At least nobody killed anybody this time. Well -- at least Darius didn't kill anybody this time. Dark memories of Shell Island flooded his mind like liquid regret, filling him up from top to toe with the bitter sting of self-loathing. It threatened to overflow, to fall as tears; they hadn't actually gone over what had happened, all they'd done was brush it under the carpet, cover it up with smiles and puerile proclamations of awesome. Roguetown had stripped them of the right to do so. Roguetown had doused them in acid, tore away at the falsehood of their adventuring and in doing so brought that long forgotten pain back up to the light where it could fester.

A shame, really, that they had to talk about it.

Darius watched with some interest as his captain 'looked over' the quality of Robin's stitching. How had he not noticed that he was surrounded by beautiful women -- even if one of them was rather motherly! -- for all this time? A smile tugged at his lips when he realised the answer. It was because they were nakama; nakama are only so for what's beneath the surface, what was in their hearts. And now their hearts beat as one, one direction, one goal, one spirit. Said spirit endured it all through the thick and thin. It also wore a Hard-Hat. It also had a hot sister. . .

What were Torin's goals, really? After all they'd been through together Darius still hadn't a clue. He'd joined the Hard-Hats rather selfishly, only looking to escape from the failure that burdened him from his past. He hadn't cared what they wanted, or, even, who they were; all that mattered was that they seemed awesome enough and that they'd have him on board. But he wasn't like that anymore. . . he'd changed, for the better -- the only way he could; before he couldn't get any worse.

The question still stood, but it seemed like it would be a little while yet before Darius could ask it; Taro was busy recanting his life story: the swordsman must have zoned out in his contemplation for he didn't remember anyone asking him to. But then again he wasn't always the most perceptive person at times; it was likely someone had asked and he'd just ignored them. It didn't trouble him -- he'd had enough self-deprecation for one day.

"...Anyway, eventually I figure Piracy makes sense, freedom is the prerequisite to experience, and who is freer than a pirate? I came searching inspiration but first I knew I had to find a crew. I wasn’t strong enough to merit a place in a pre-established Grandline crew, so the blues seemed an obvious choice. Everyone’s heard of Roguetown, as the death place of Roger. It seems—seemed, obvious to me that then this would be a great pirate haven and so I came across on a marine vessel, using every beri I owned, plus my entertainment value to pay for the ferrying. That’s it really, my real story began in Roguetown – a story you’re all very much a part of. I know my life seems fairly dull, especially with the backgrounds I know some of you have... but that’s the truth of my life, more or less." Hmm. Taro's use of fancy words confused Darius, just a tiny part, but he got the gist of it. A 'prerequisite' was something that was. . . kinda needed before something else could happen, wasn't it. . . Yes yes of course it was; he knew that. He was totally smart! Or so he thought. Not that anyone was judging him. In fact, no one seemed to be doing much of anything at the moment; silence had fallen over the deck of the Jolly Jericho. Said silence was soon broken by the melody of a guitar playing, a tune that was foreign to Darius: Taro had written a new song. It was pleasant, really quite pleasant -- awesome even. And yet it carried with it a sense, a strange sense of something stirring in the soul and rising up. But he couldn't quite put his finger on what. Maybe Taro's music had improved, matured, during the harrowing experience of Roguetown.

The music stopped. Taro's contribution seemed to be over.

His time to shine?

"Err. . . I'm Darius? Yeah yeah of course I am. Not much to tell I guess. Used to live in South Blue, Saint Reia, but my whole town kinda burned. . . I actually lived on the streets for a while, and then got fed up with all of it -- my gang, I mean. Did I mention I was in a gang? I was in a gang. Actually, it was my gang. We did stuff -- bad stuff I guess, but you had to back then; we were young and there was no money or food or anything. But then I quit and came to East Blue. The rest, as the say, is history." He'd skipped over a few details -- he hadn't expected it to be so hard. For a second he envied Taro and his comparatively uninteresting history; at least then he'd have been able to rattle off a tale of his origins without the stops and starts reminiscent of a temperamental engine not convinced either way of working or breaking down. Still, it wasn't too bad, was it? No, no one was laughing at him. So it was a success really. In reflection it was probably better than Taro's story. Yup. He was the best.

. . . Too far?

Yeah, probably.

“So that’s my story I guess, but for me the real story lies ahead, over the horizon and passed that mountain. Thinking of which, how do you sail over a mountain? Is there a tunnel?” Now here was something he really did excel at. Navigating questions? Leave it to Darius! Confidence exuded from the swordsman's form as he replied with a matter of fact tone,

"Not a tunnel as such. More like a river that flows all the way up and all the way down the mountain. Only the river banks are huge walls of rock." Information divulged and a feeling of use and worth flooding his veins and making him feel warm, fuzzy and better than Taro, Darius finished speaking. He had no musical addendum to give; his role on the crew was that of the navigator and swordsman -- at best the equivalent of the musician's song that he had on hand was a little glance at the Log Pose strapped to his arm and wistful thinking about the sword in his room. And it was good enough.

[Kurosaki]

At first she was unsure what her Captain even met. When he spoke to her she raised an eyebrow until he explained that she could stretch in her room. Shrugging her shoulders, she was about to explain that she felt relatively alright when Torin began to roll around complaining about the boat being after him or some such nonsense.

Robin stared down at him with an unimpressed look.

Was he for real?

When he grinned up at her he suddenly asked if she had always been so full chested. At first Robin just opened her mouth and looked surprised but then it hardened. Just... What the heck was he saying?

A bit baffled and forced onto a stool before she could really begin go start getting angry, Robin managed to continue on to get angry whilst seated. Torin had not only said that about her but went on to check her stitches as though he were the Doctor around here and criticize her stitches for being loose. He fixed the sides and Robin relaxed a bit but still glared at him for his earlier statement. After finishing he ruffled her hair and Robin eyed him as he said something about choosing her because she was the best Doctor that he knew.

Going on to talk, Robin listened to her Captain say something about getting to know each other better. First Taro went, describing his past and then Darius. Robin listened with an interest that actually surprised herself.

As for her speaking about herself...?

Well, she really didn't want to. Her past was full of a lot of things she didn't really want the others to know. Why exactly? Why would she hide things from them? Well, mostly because she didn't want them to know about the one patient in the world that she had actually ended the life of... On purpose.

When it seemed to come to a point when it was her "turn" per say, Robin at first stood up from her stool for a moment, went to punch Torin and then sat back down nonchalantly. If he looked at her accusingly or seemed to wonder why she would only shrug her shoulders and continue on. Really, he ought to know the reason.

"As for me, I was born on Lyneel which is in the North Blue. I don't have any family left. My parents died when I was ten when a restaurant we were in came under some heavy fire from Marines and Pirates fighting outside of it. When the building collapsed my parents were pinned by it. I managed to escape without a scratch though since I was small enough to hide under a table. While my dad died that day my mom managed to live for a few more days after that. The Doctor that took care of her before she died took me in and that's where I learned how to be a Doctor. Doctor Manning was his name and when he passed, since he was rather old, I was twenty-one. I continued his practice for a while..."

Here Robin seemed to paused and then smiled brightly, shifting pace a little and at the same time covering up something but that much wasn't apparent.

"After a while I started for the East Blue to change up my life and I found you guys. I wasn't sure I would ever become a pirate but since you guys are pretty strong I figured it would be good to travel with you all. Well, you're pretty strong when you don't need a Doctor every five seconds."

Of course, the irony was that they always seemed to need her Doctoring skills.

Even so, she saw this crew as particularly strong. They were not a bunch of weaklings. She didn't have to worry so much about them not making it. Somehow she could see them succeeding in whatever they tried. Why she felt this way and managed to trust in something again after the deaths of her parents, she did not know the reason for. Perhaps only time would tell that.

[Die]

By the time Imuka had managed to lug herself onto the main deck of the Jolly Jericho, the other crew members seemed to have gathered around in a little powwow of sorts. Looking over the side of the ship, the pleasant scenery over the tranquil waters were a nice change of pace. It was a complete 180 from the fire, smoke, chaos, and overall collateral damage that the past day had consisted of. The gunner noticed a small speck appearing in the distance. Reverse Mountain was drawing near, and with it the approach of the Grand Line.

Although he did not know it, Torin should have considered himself extremely lucky Imuka hadn't been around when he "complimented" Robin on her bosom or started closely examining her stitches. She would have incorrectly thought he was up to something she really did not like, and decked him in the face like she did to Taro back in Loguetown when he touched her. Although, with the severity of the injuries she suffered, punching him would have been out of the question unless she wanted to open up her wound. She merely hobbled over to the little circle gathering, dragging another stool with her as she was still very stiff and still had to worry about her stitching and such. The gunner took a seat next to Robin as they all started on about their little stories before joining the Hard-Hats.

Torin made a little note before starting that it was a good idea to take a break, especially after from having narrowly escaped Loguetown. They were lucky two of the Marines, one of them directly responsible for most of their injuries, were ambiguously on their side in that they were the ones who allowed them to escape. He also made a point that it was a good idea to get to know each other a little more, a little bit of crew-bonding time. It seemed as though they agreed on something for once, although Imuka hadn't voiced the same sentiment out loud.

Either way, Taro was the first to share his little history. It was a rather interesting one, if not seemingly normal. To top things off he finished it with a rather interesting little ditty. Darius was up next, though his was a little short, as though he wasn't telling all of it. Robin's as well, though she still found the both of theirs more interesting than Taro's. When it came time for her to share, Imuka put her hands together and looked down. A few seconds had passed and she gave out a sigh, resigning herself to the inevitability of having to share a bit about herself as well. As long as they were on the same side of the same page, she could not find a reason not to.

"I come from a farming island not too far from Water 7, we were one of the biggest suppliers for them. Growing up, I guess I was a bit different from the other girls. We were a very traditional community. All of the other girls and their moms would maintain the house, do laundry, making food for the boys and the men when they came back from tending the crops and livestock, and such and such. I always found a way to break away from that and do my own thing...which was tinker around with the machinery. The others always seemed dislike the fact that I broke tradition and did the mens' job, but I was real good at it. Only my mother vouched for me.

Nothing changed much from that, until pirates decided to raid the island for the food stores. We were lucky everyone carried a gun on them and that farming tools made pretty good weapons. Our crops got cut down by a good portion, but no one was seriously injured and we managed to fight them off. After that I realized just how much in danger we were from the pirates and I shipped off to the Marine Academy. The Academy wasn't that bad...there weren't too many women around so I was already at a disadvantage against the guys. Brick was an especially large thorn in my side, that chauvinistic bastard. I think the only thing that allowed me to make a name for myself was that I was just...me. I wasn't there to impress anyone. And it worked. I got assigned to an artillery division and manned the cannons with the other men in the squad. We were just...awesome at it. Eventually it got to the point where we got the attention of the higher-ups and they offered us a new weapon to test out, which was the Var."

[/b]

Imuka's eyes narrowed. "Speaking of the Var..."[/b] she began to say as she looked at the rest of the crew. Surely one of them knew what happened to her most important possession. She had a feeling Torin had something to do with it, but she would ask...or confront him about it later. "We all bickered like a family over who should get to use the weapon. They kinda became my second family in so many ways... After a while my commanding officer had enough of it...and said it should've gone to the scrawniest, shortest member...which was me. It became my weapon that way.

Our final mission came when we were ordered to do a saturation shelling of an island that they thought had survivors from the Ohara incident. They couldn't get a Buster Call in in time so it came down to us. When we learned just how many people lived on it, including women and children, my commander went ballistic and we all organized a mutiny. I knocked out the Captain of the ship we were on and we started firing on our own ships to try and protect the island."[/color]

She looked down, her face growing more and more serious as she gripped her knees, "Those bastards...We managed to hold them off for the longest time we could. But our shells were no match for their numbers... Eventually they overran us, and everyone else in my team was killed and the island was still bombarded and destroyed. They spared me so I could be made an example of...which led me to Organ Island where you freed me, Torin..." Imuka bit back the tears. She was a very resilient girl at heart, and an emotional display like crying would completely betray her tough girl image.

With that out of the way, she tried to take the attention off of her and looked towards Reverse Mountain. "To think we're so close to the Grand Line... I never thought I would have to take the pirate's way back in. Going through the Calm Belt was much easier..." At the very least what she had kept to herself was now known by everyone else in the crew. At the very least her long-term intentions were made clear. She wanted to take down the Marines for committing such heinous acts. No doubt they were going to find some justification for completely destroying her own home island.
[/size][/blockquote]

[SHADE SMASH]

“I don’t remember anything about my parents!”

It was sudden, spontaneous, and said the moment Imuka had finished giving the odd ball group no time to dwell on the girls obviously grim past and turn their attention to…well they didn’t know! The voice was in no way familiar, certainly not belonging to anyone a part of the odd ball grouped, widely known as the Hard-Hats. All that could be told about the voice was that it was feminine and was escalating into a whine as if the person who owned it were on the verge of tears. Last of all, one could tell that the voice came from a spot beside Darius.

“Whenever I try to think back and remember them, I just see misshapen blobs of black and white! There isn’t even any sound! Like a horrendous black and white movie!!! Worse, they handed me off to a particularly irresponsible person and sent me away to Roguetown!!! Who just abandons their child like that?!” When the weird child looked to be ready to bawl and go into a hissy fit at her parents, she began to smile and sniffled once more before continuing. “It wasn’t until I was found by a godly man that I was saved from my despicable predicament. He was super nice and he taught me everything I know! Fighting, cooking, moonshining! I taught myself the way around bartending! Then, you guys want to know what happened?” She looked around with a quaint look on her face, perhaps confusing the crew even further about what she was talking about. Whether they nodded or not, or even both, she continued to the ending.

“His bar was destroyed, obliterated, annihilated, crushed, damaged, eradicated, exterminated, mutilated, sabotaged, ravaged, trashed, wasted, wiped out, wrecked-!!!” With each word, the strange girl became angrier and angrier, before she stopped herself and took a deep breath, clasping her hands in her lap before looking up once more at the fellow crowd. “And, by any chance, are you aware of who did this?” Instead of waiting for an answer by anyone, she jumped up on the stool, causing it to shift under the change of wait plus the waves, it certainly wasn’t a safe place to stand on, but she did so anyway and glared angrily at everyone around her.

“You HOOLIGANS!!! YOU OWE ME OVER A MILLION BERI… no that’s too charitable. You owe me a BILLION BERI! For all the WORK and EMOTIONAL significance that bar was to me!!!” She exasperated rather loudly at everyone there. “The person especially responsible would be the SMART ASS who thought rocketing a man through 12 WALLS was ‘fine’ or ‘ok’ to do!!!” Her voice only got louder and louder until she came to ‘fine’ and ‘ok’ which she said in a sarcastically girlish ignorant way. Once she was finished with what she said, her blue eyes looked accusingly at the crew of five people, and one sister, waiting for someone to confess to their actions. She believed it was certainly their responsibility to do so even though it was over a day ago that all of this happened and the fact that they were already at sea.

Honestly, she tried to do this sooner. A day ago, she was simply minding her own business. Brushing her ridiculous long blond hair and adjusting the thousands of green ribbons scattered across her body. She also wore a red tank-top that had diamond slits on each side of her stomach. She then wore jeans that looked normal up to mid-thighs, but then were ripped into ribbons all the way down until just before the bottom of the jeans which ended by her ankles. A definitely odd sort of wardrobe but one she loved to wear and, oddly, helped her move in times that required fighting.

So there she was, in her bizarre clothing, when a man crashed into her bar not only destroying the wall from whence he came and severely cracking the other side. She was prepared to beat the man to a pulp, ready to put all the blame on him and even get something in return for all the trouble he had caused her. However, before she could do a thing in response to him, he muttered out a word. A word easy enough to understand before the whole of the foundation came crashing down on top of him. She got out of there alive thanks to her reflexes, but not without a desire for compensation for whoever did this, the “Hard-Hats.” That was the man’s last word and as a bar-tender, she had great knowledge on the popular rookies in the sea, and that crew was certainly one of them. She heard earliar that day that they had arrived on the island. Little was she aware that they would do something as horrendous as this to her of all people!!!

She took off and found their boat. It seemed empty, so she jumped on it and decided to go deeper inside the ship, thinking that everyone was somewhere inside. Instead, she got lost. The further she tried to untangle herself from the maze, the further lost she became until she finally found a place to sleep. At times, she even attempted to find the treasure room. She didn’t have the luck for that, however, and instead found herself on top of the ship, above the deck on one of the two rooms. She also saw that the crew seemed to be in the midst of something. While everyone paid attention to Imuka, she came up the complete opposite side of her and silently placed her own stool there and sat atop it, completely immersed in the story.

So much so, she couldn’t help letting loose her own story for everyone to hear, avoiding a few things she wished to keep to herself. Now, here she stood, waiting for someone to say something ANYTHING in this bizarre moment.

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'Its a system of streams and collected water sources which move upwards due to the temperature and magnetism of the area. The area around the mountain is much colder than the seas around it for that sole reason. What with the storms and rapids, we'll just have to keep out wits about us I guess.'

For once his rare words of wisdom reared in the form of an undertone rant as Taro, followed by Darius discussed the mountain of death ahead of them. They seemed to have a story to tell, he gave them that, obviously he had heard Taro's and Darius's history in the small discussion they had after that Bounty hunter incident oh so long ago. Though as friends, Nakama even for use of a stronger word, he felt like they had been through thick and thin in his small life of adventure and didn't know the in's and out's of his companions past. Though he was content with what he had learned so far, filling in the blanks always left Torin feeling happy about listening to it in the first place, being the knowledge hungry little digger that he is. He turned to Robin, no doubt attempting to avoid his own turn though also to raise a brow as she approached him after he had strolled away. He should have known what was coming from those faces and noises that were made from his actions, though he still played ignorant. 'Doc, I though yo- UGH!' The woman's strike was horrific, he had been shot swiped at and smacked by the largest things he's encountered and yet this strike felt like a ten ton weight to the face! 'Dammit Doc! Since when did I-' He set his mind back to not a few minutes ago, he had full on gestured to the woman's appearance and poked around at her stomach without so much as a sensible thought. '- Oh right, never mind.' He still saw no real problem in it, just trying to help after all. Was glad the sister wasn't awake to see it though, he wouldn't have lived it down.

'Yea, you found me on the floor with a bullet in me..' He patted the previous wound, all of that haste before only to end up keeling over in the middle of the street because he didn't put time and effort into it. He couldn't help but give Robin a big grin while his more attentive functions had him scratched the back of his head. 'Really saved me back then, but we're even now huh?' He was referring to the incident recently in fact, though he felt like he shouldn't dwell on it, the look on her face and the state she was in was something strange to encounter of someone so previously calm and composed. But this was exactly what Eimi had been talking about! This shock and awe should be something met with support and courage, not a mess of injuries with nothing but an explosion and an escape to your name. He hated to say it, hell he was even telling himself not to say it to himself. If that made any sense. He needed to be stronger for these guys, he didn't need to hold their hand, hell they were probably better than him in a fight right now... Well maybe not Taro but he knew what he was trying to tell himself, some stupid stuff about bonds and being stronger he got it! He looked back to the group, in his moment of self discussion Imuka had showed up, couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief for her well being in that matter. Imuka was a specific case he was curious of, the girl was hiding something which he knew the moment he met her, the whole marine thing of hers making him feel connected somehow.

'Haha, was so stupid how they had you up there.' He needed to defuse the situation, Torin almost tearing up himself as he watched Imuka lock into her serious face as if holding something back. He had a habit with details, the other might not have noticed, but he did. 'But I'm sure we'll find something to help you along Muka, there's a lot of stuff over that thing apparently.' Though Imuka seemed to be the only one with a proper goal over that damn mountain, the urge to go was all the same. This wasn't even something he'd considered a couple of months ago, and now he was reading every kind of book to make sure they didn't just slam right into the damn thing and make this adventure meet a grim end. He was so pessimistic for thinking that, this wasn't Torin at all, though how could he be happy and cheerful when he knew it was his turn to speak out about his life? Where was he even going to begin? Maybe he could just delay for a little while longer. 'You guys have be-' He was stopped in his tracks once again, this voice.. It was.. Nope, he didn't know it, thought he did. He stood up, walked towards it, sat right in front of it and stared at it. Only this method of deduction would suss as to why a strange hyperactive girl, another damn girl, was sitting on a stool next to Imuka telling a story. It was a cool one though, he gave her that. Something about throwing people through walls. 'That was probably Muka..' He chuckled to himself as he patted the leg of His gunner for her triumph over that idiot. Made him think how much of that battle he had missed taking turns punching Hawke.

'Wait.. The marines attacked us! Well with all dues I fired a cannon at their base which must have made a little stir but, I'm not giving you any of my money! Yo.. You..' His raging gambling persona emerged and took a rest as a whole new question came to mind, finding himself stood up and leaning towards her almost touching noses as he raised his helmet to give her a glance. 'You said you were a bartender... That pretty much means cook right?' He didn't wait for an answer, instead extending his hand and putting a stupid grin on his face. 'You should join my crew, totally join. You'll join right?' This had to be one of the first times he had officially invited someone, didn't even know their name unless they mentioned it in that crazed story of high tones and exclaims.

'Why don't you just get it over with Ass-hat?'
'Since when did you get up.'
'I was just taking a nap.'
'That means you weren't talking! Which is an improvement!'
'What if I improve your face a little?'

His attention was diverted, the hardly imaginative verbal gunfire which shot back and forth led Torin away from the little circle and forehead clashing with his sister as he pulled up his sleeve. 'Am I gunna have to do this for you to? Make sure you tell them the whole story without lying again?' Torin gritted his teeth, pushing away from her as he went back to sit down, oddly enough nearly forgetting the new woman was an addition to the ship let alone the crew. 'I didn't lie! I just bent the truth.' He received a clap to the back of his head, his helmet rattling as the childish beating came to a close as Eimi sat beside him, leaning inwards and gesturing for him to begin. 'Guess it was my go anyways.' 'Twas true, even the random woman had told her story, now he definitely had to tell his. 'Well uh.. Uhm..' For a guy who was always vomiting nonsense, he was an idiot whenever it came to anything serious. 'Old man..?' Eimi got a glance and furrowed brows for the opening title, part of him didn't want to talk about it mainly because it wasn't dramatic enough, long winded even. I mean who would want to know about half of this crap? 'Me 'n Eimi were given away by our parents, apparently they knew that pirate ship was going to be raided soon and it got us in the safe hands of the marines, with the Old man.' He was keeping things simple and clean, no time to beat around the bush he thought to himself, this was a topic he would rather not rant and rave about.

'The Old man was a Vice admiral just retired a long while back before he took me and Eimi in, trained up like little mascots for the cause, taking us around the island whenever I wasn't digging holes and Eimi wasn't making things. He and Nolan, were like a father and uncle to us, and having such a close tie to us they were the ones that started getting the gifts. Mum and Dad would just, send stuff randomly to them after they learned we were in safe hands, and I think it got them unwanted attention even though the knew they could handle it beside their own inside revolt against the marines going all corrupt. And well, I think they killed him, the Old man... Just because he wanted to make the marines a better place for us when me and Eimi joined. Eimi had already hit the road, tried and tested the marines before turning into a pirate and I had just gotten out of my contract. Nolan told me about my parents after that, around the whole spite of the marines telling me and Eimi to do stupid things day in day out even though we had done nothing wrong. Thats what you get for being related to pirates.'

'Then what about her? You totally missed her out.'
'H-Her? She's nothing to do with this!'
'Yea she is! Tell them!'
'They don't even need to-'
'Do it Torin!'

He sighed, placing his hand against his face as Eimi decided to do the honours for him. 'Torin had a girlfriend~' She was shaken on the spot from Torin's single arm flailing back and forth against her. 'Wasn't my girlfriend..' Eimi's response was just laughter, even if the other guys were utterly confused or otherwise at least she found it funny to watch Torin fuss. 'Totally was, now tell them or I will in explicit detail.' Silence followed a grunt as Torin emerged from his face palming position, ready to continue. 'Eva.. We dug holes 'n stuff and then she became some big shot marine because of her father or something then just up and left. That was that.' Eimi sighed, leaning it to tell the story as Torin sat with a scrunched look on his face. 'She has stupid levels of talent, she decided to protest Torin's arguments of the marines being corrupt after the Old man passed and bailed without as much as a goodbye apparently. Little Torin's still torn up about it. So he wants to go find out who supposedly killed our Old man, hunt Eva down and generally make everyone pay for something or other.' She moved to fend off an onslaught which never came, Torin zoned out while looking at the oh so interesting floor only to look up as if nothing had happened, looking to the newcomer with curious look and an extended hand even though the distance was quite large between them now for her to simply reach back. 'So you're gunna join our crew, right?'

'So dense sometimes..'

[Deleted]

The enigma that was Imuka slowly dissolved as she laid her history bare, the clues to her past and militant demeanour were put into a context and suddenly she made some sort of sense to Taro. Unlike the previous two stories that came from Darius and Robin it didn’t appear as if she’d skimped on the details, but in content it seemed no more tragic than the other histories. It was odd then that the musician could detect something in his Captain’s expression, a glimmer of sadness as if biting back on tears or at least fighting some kind of emotional response. The comment that followed shed no light at all on what he’d picked up on; except that he indeed had picked up on something.

“But I'm sure we'll find something to help you along Muka, there's a lot of stuff over that thing apparently.”

Taro’s head tilted in brief contemplation, ‘Huh? Does he always have to be so damn ambiguous?’ Frustration briefly brushed across the features of the fair haired guitarist; despite divulging their pasts all his Nakama that had spoken so far had maintained an aura of mystique. ‘What am I, just a kid playing pirate? Needs of circumstance forced most of these into this lifestyle and yet I happily opted in, is that significant? Is that normal?’ Lost in contemplation, subconsciously he became aware of the words restaurant, cooking and moon-shining, but they didn’t seem overly relevant. Scratching his head it slowly became Torin’s turn to speak. He started awkwardly, or at least reluctantly which came across as strange. For some reason Taro felt like he already knew him and so the amount that had been withheld came surprisingly to his well trained ear. It shouldn’t have, enough was unveiled in Roguetown to alert him to the fact that apparently Torin was quite reserved; he had a secret sister for goodness sakes. After his somewhat stalled but concise life summary all the mystery of the events so far seemed to make proper sense. Yet there was one revelation that came as a bigger surprise than any.

Sliding, broad-grinned and goofily the musician slowly appeared behind the Hard-Hat whilst making a strange noise. “Sooooo~ Girlfriend eh? Hah... didn’t know you had it in you, you sly dog and a marine at that? Perfect. Oh, I’ve been a bad man, are you going to arrest m--” recalling that Imuka the woman who’d slugged him for the slightest contact and who’d single handed brought Brick to his knees was in fact an ex-marine, it suddenly made a lot of sense to shut up. Sliding back to his prior position it didn’t take long before more confusion seemed to envelope Taro. His eyes moved to a stranger and immediately he performed a double take.

“Who the hell is she!?” he barked suddenly, “W-what are you doing?” he questioned his maniac Captain who had a hand extended in invitation. “She could be a bounty hunter or a... chef and a moonsh... wait-a-minute...” Finally the musician’s brain caught him up and his manner transformed from confused and panicked to welcoming and relaxed. “A moonshiner and a chef, friggin’ jackpot! Welcome aboard, I’m Taro Span... the kind of, brains of the organisation? Yeah, oh and the looks too. Torin’s more a figurehead.”

It was at this precise moment that a shadow drew the songwriter’s attention with the increasingly familiar outline of a newspaper bird proving to be the source. Producing a couple of beri from his wallet and signalling the bird with a whistle Taro quickly performed the transaction and almost instantaneously his expression was bursting with prideful joy. Keeping it to himself for a moment, his eyes twitched as he read intently. “Uh-huh... hah... a genius... not much mention of me, but not all that suprisi—wait, wait, wait. Hah!” Finally with a strong satisfaction he flung the newspaper to the ground for all to see and proclaimed cheerily, “Front page! Front page and they got my name right!”

Picture

[Cirrus]

Well, wasn't this an interesting surprise?

Darius, apparently now a cynic, thought. The voice hadn't caused him to freak out and yell with unnecessary enthusiasm, as others may have expected of him. In fact, the Hard-Hat swordsman remained relatively still; perhaps it was because he was in deep reflection that he missed the rant of the bodiless voice, which was mainly aimed at him -- he was, after all, the cause of that place's destruction: when he'd blasted Rose through the apartment flats he'd seen him go for quite a while after. He was getting stronger, he mused, and he hadn't even realised... But now was the time for realisation. Torin, his captain, had realised that he'd had enough of 'this'. That had sent Darius down the deep dark road of depression. What exactly was 'this'? Was it adventure? Thankfully, he'd later discovered that that was not the case; the Hard-Hat himself had been referring to the incredibly destructive nature of his crew. Did he want to lead a life like this -- a life of endless running and explosions? Sure, it was fun but... it was getting prosaic. And, more seriously, it was getting them hurt.

He wasn't strong enough to prevent that.

Not yet.

But that was what this was all about, wasn't it? Getting to the Grand Line, wrecking the place... was it their goal? It was something that definitely wasn't going to go away, at any rate. Speaking of persistence, that girl hadn't quietened down by now. Looked like it was Darius' turn to step in...

"She has to join, right? I mean, there's nowhere else to go. That way's the Grand Line, other way's the belly of the beast although... some people say this world has more than one belly, and like... stuff. Out of the frying pan!~ That's what I mean. And here, in this frying pan, we found a cook. How irony." Such a poetic soul, Darius. Still, he was learning; he had to -- he was the diamond in the coal, after all, and through being around refined, civilised peoples such as the Hard-Hats, maybe he too could become a sparkling gemstone; one synonymous with strength, rather than beauty, of course. The swordsman returned to his taciturn state, content to just let the world pass him by... Heh, that sounded weird. Since when was Darius the passive one? He made the action, more often than not. Still, it was a pressing feeling no longer; he was content to let the world pass him by -- when needed, he'd turn up the crazy, just like he used to, but for now he needed to recover.

... That was what they'd been saying the whole time, wasn't it.

A cursing rasp of breath escaped rueful lips as the swordsman shifted, annoyed that it'd taken him so long to come to the same conclusion as everyone else. Was he far behind, though? Not when it counted, surely; not when he needed to survive. Survival: that was something Darius knew plenty about. He was, after all, here, wasn't he? And after all he'd been through, he'd certainly had to learn to survive. He'd learned how to silence his footsteps on carpet surfaces; he'd learned how to deftly pick locks; how to break in through windows; how to reach just that little bit further than you thought you could... They were all useful skills. But he wasn't a genius, he wasn't a doctor, he couldn't play an instrument, he couldn't maintain a huge cannon thing. And... that was okay, wasn't it. Yes, yes it was, thought the Hard-Hat swordsman -- that was what a crew was for. What would the point have been if they could all do everything required and just travel on without any assistance? There wouldn't have been any sort of point. How hadn't he realised this earlier?

Well, he could answer that one.

Up until now, the Hard-Hats had not been a crew. They had been a means of escape. Escape from the sadness of his own incompetence, they'd been; a distraction from his past. But they'd talked about it back then... and then things had happened -- all 'this' had happened, and then Darius had forgotten all about it. And now they were talking about it; now it wasn't going to go away until he got over it. He had to get over it, thought the swordsman darkly; if he didn't, how could he possibly hope to get over Reverse Mountain? And if they couldn't do that, they wouldn't escape from the marines. So, he had to escape with his escape to get to the grand escape: the Grand Line.

How irony.

Freshly ironed newspaper dropped from the sky, by way of news ku, and landed near the crew's musician, who had busied himself with pulling the wool over the new girl's eyes -- 'Brains of the organisa- Looks of the- Figurehead?!' It didn't sit well with Darius, not at all... And so he stood up. And walked over to that pesky musician he called a rival. And pointed a finger in his face. And shouted. Loudly.

"YOU?! I'm the coolest one here and you know it! With all the fwoosh fwoosh~ And the explosions. The look of the Hard-Hats is fire and grimstone and- and- ME!" There. That sorted it just fine -- every inaccuracy was rectified. Oh, but he hadn't introduced himself yet to their new chef! And so an addendum was added with the swordsman saying,

"I'm Darius, by the way -- Darius Fox. Arrow guy. And you are...?" He spoke with a tone of interest, something that was very intriguing as the swordsman had stolen the newspaper from the musician in the midst of his rant, leafing through the blasphemous pages and wondering if his bounty would go up soon, and, more importantly, if Taro had noticed the 'lamo' sign above his head in the picture.

Oh how he'd laugh...

[Kurosaki]

One by one the others told their tales. Robin listened intently to Imuka's story in particular, gripped by the emotions that she saw flicker over her friend's face. In her shoes Robin would have liked to have thought that she would have done the same thing. To think that the very people that were supposed to protect and serve the people of the World were actually so corrupt. Robin wasn't naive to this idea but the blatancy of their actions was actually a bit surprising.

The Doctor started when the next person spoke up. The voice, unfamiliar, had nearly made her leap out of her skin. She turned now and examined the woman with suspicion. Since when had she been there? Who the heck was she was a more important question, however.

It seemed that whoever she was she was willing to tell them everything about herself and her bar including the fact that it was them that were to blame for its unfortunate destruction. There was no argument against that. Their actions on Roguetown had been reckless, destructive and had probably cost the Island millions in repair costs. Robin looked to Darius, Taro and finally at Torin wondering which one of them it had been. She didn't look accusingly at Imuka though even though Torin eventually laid the blame on her proudly and patted her leg. He then blatantly asked the new person if they would join the crew. At first, smartly, Taro began to protest and exclaimed that they didn't know who she was. Which was valid. Until he was lost at the prospect of having a bartender on the crew.

Robin sighed and rubbed her temples. So much for him sticking to his guns. Still, it was ultimately up to Torin to decide who was on the crew and who wasn't, right? As a Captain that was his main duty. Though sometimes Robin felt that Taro was right. No... Never mind. Robin shook her head to herself dismissing the idea. Darius voiced his opinion that the new woman had to join.

What was with this? Did they even know her name yet? Or how good of a cook she was exactly?

Before Robin could really protest, Torin was launching into his own story with some encouragement from Eimi. Well, actually, a heck of a lot of encouragement, prodding and help.

Parts of Torin's story that he glossed over or "simplified" only seemed to make the Doctor more confused but she seemed to get the gist of what his life had been like up until that point.

The newspaper came after that and Robin waited her turn to take it and look it over. Her face turned slightly pale at the image of all of them. So they all were known? When had this picture even been taken!?

"Well, it certainly is a flattering picture, at least," Robin commented before passing it on to the next person. She still had a suspicion about that photo though.

Her thoughts on that were interrupted by Darius' introduction to the new girl. Once he had finished the good Doctor decided that it was probably the right time to introduce herself as well. Though since she didn't know when exactly the other woman had arrived, she wasn't sure if she had already laid her heart out there about her parents for a total stranger to know about. Robin was the type to mask her real thoughts with fake smiles and the like around people she didn't know. It was only around the Hard Hats that she couldn't really mask her emotions well.

"I'm Dr. Downing but you can call me Robin," she said pleasantly, extending a hand to shake the bartender's. "It would be very nice of you to join the crew. With everyone always overexerting themselves I'm afraid that no one eats properly on this vessel as it is. Though too much alcohol might also be a potential problem..."

The LAST thing that they needed was alcohol to get their crew into even more trouble. Still, proper nutrition was a must. With all the fighting and then not eating properly the crew could run the risk of their immunity to disease going down. Disease, once on a ship, could spread rapidly and with limited facilities (thanks to some of the interruption on Roguetown she hadn't been able to stock up much) Robin wasn't sure if she could contain a bad outbreak. And then there was the issue of scurvy. Robin wasn't even sure if there were any fruits on the ship let alone if everyone was making sure to get their daily dose of vitamin C.

And scurvy was serious business. A case of scurvy could mean lethargy, tissue decay, old wounds opening back up. If left to progress Jaundice, where the skin turns yellow from liver failure, fever, convulsions and ultimately death were common. Of course it would take anywhere from a month to three months with no vitamin C for these things to happen.

If they had a cook she could keep an eye on what each of the members of the crew had. Kind of stalker-like but it would save them in the long run.