The Trials of Treegap! Hard-Hat's Grand Arrival!

[Tori Tori Chopper]

The Grand Line, an icon of glory and reward, or pride and title to pirates and marines alike.. The first half of a legendary sea which spans the centre of this world, entered via the formidable calm belt of sea kings, or the famous peaks and mysterious upwards streams of reverse mountain. The Hard-Hat's, a pirate crew of the East Blue, unfortunately found the mile-stone of this passage arguably more troublesome than others. Combined with the injuries they had sustained from a fierce battle in Loguetown days prior, their eventual set-down on the oceans waters had them down and out before the adventure even began.

A week of rest and recovery was well deserved, and despite their success as a crew, others with intentions beyond the Hard-Hat's care-free desires chose this time to depart while others remained occupied by their injuries. Though despite the exit of their Doctor and Navigator.. A certain sister remained, a goal beyond catching up with her brother pulling the ship and remaining crew members along with it to a location beyond first expectations.

--------------------

'So they left, huh..'

'Mm, I didn't ask why, he left this though.'

[/right]
'Ah, I forgot all about it, gonna need it too.'[/b][/blockquote]

The wrist accessory was thrown across the room, caught by an unkept digger sitting upright on his bed, encased in bandages and still rubbing his eyes from waking only moments ago to further examine the item. 'If they've got stuff to do, I'm sure we'll meet up again someday.' Clipping the metallic band to his arm, flicking the pose fixed inside it, he slowly stretched one limb after another before pushing himself off his mattress and wobbling to the open door of his quarters with yawns and scratches of various parts of his body. 'A whole week, huh?' The boomerang wielding sibling followed close behind, to the degree of pushing past him childishly, making a noise to confirm the Captains query. 'Yea, you ain't missed much beside the obvious though.' She was right, nothing had even moved since he last saw the deck, the morning sun slowly fighting away the dark sky, the glint of orange settling upon woodwork throughout the Jericho. 'You 'gonna manage? You're a pretty small crew as it is, now with this..' He wobbled his hand from side to side, using his other to pick his nose while he moved to the side of the ship, leaning agaisnt the vessels boarders. 'Eeeh~ We'll head to the next island, might take a bit more effort without the extra hands, but I'll figure something out.' Eimi's knowledge of how he solved things was avid, chuckling at the thought of Torin trying to solve something.

'Yeea.. About the island? Might be easier than you think.' Torin had slumped over a pile of disorganised valuables, thrown into a heap to later sort when they weren't falling from a billion feet in the air. Swimming about it at first, to then only emerge head-first, a familiar helmet now upon it followed by a sight of relief and a raised brow. 'Easy-er? I thought this place had lots of weird stuff to look out for..' He rummaged amongst his own clothing this time, pulling a small book from one of his many pockets to reassure his assumption of dangerous waters beyond common sight. 'Well, the first stretch to the routes isn't as bad as people think, all it takes is someone who knows what they're doing.. Maybe some devil fruit powers to push it without the whole crew.. And you're outside the Nightmare route and a mile off one of its islands before you know it..' She spoke in some awkward confidence, Torin's head jerking further and further back with every word she spoke until he was near unnaturally suspending himself at an angle with one foot on the ground.. Quickly scurrying nose to nose with her, eyes wide and and a rather comedic expression of fear overlapped in shadow took over his face.

'What have you done..'

'M-Me?! I didn't eve-'

'You do all the things..'[/b]

'What does that even mean?!' Torin didn't have time to answer that question, he was pulling papers and running from one side of the ship to another in attempts to discover exactly where his questionably adventurous sister had moved his ship to. Which was easy enough considering the island in question lay within the horizon like a signal in the distance. 'They said you guys never really decided where you were going, so seeing as I had some business to handle here.. I mean, you think they just wandered off into open ocean?' Torin was about to blitz on her decision, but the logic behind it seemed to add up, at least in regards to Darius and Robins departure. 'Are you at least going to tell me why you want to be here?' Her gradual attempt to ponder over the subject had intangible noises pour from Torin's mouth in response, Eimi strongly nodding in response instead, apparently what the Captain was looking for.

'It was just some rumour spreading around while I was in the east, I went there to get some information and ran into you! Something about a Pirate King wannabe, the new pirate age.. It happens around here every other full moon I swear, but this one..' She delved into a bag around her waist, pulling out a chain of sorts riddled with different carved symbols and trinkets, walking over to the scouting Hard-Hat, passing him the object while taking the constantly falling helmet from his head. 'This one looks like this one see, it may not make much sense to you now, but this ones bad news.. So if this so called Gold Junior is in league with this guy at all? Its gonna be something worth looking into.' She pulled a make-shift seat to her with her foot, effortlessly crumpling upon it while she worked to fix the mess that was her brothers helmet. 'How do I not know any of this..' It was a surprise, Torin knew everything! 'You've got a long way to go, smart-ass.' He would've retorted if a repaired helmet wasn't shoved onto his head, and his face pulled to one side while his facial injuries were examined. 'He really did a number on you, didn't he..' Hard to admit, the self-shovel damage from the unknown marine prior hacked into him deep enough to deserved a mummified appearance over his nose, something which didn't so much phase the Captain in strength, but the fear of more of that guy being on the road ahead.

'I'll manage.. Besides, the ships main priority right now, I'm surprised you even got it here without it splitting in two.' He patted the wooden surface, this thing had been through hell, it deserved a lot more than a simple fix-up, just a matter of finding someone willing to do it. 'Weell~ There is one bonus to being here when it comes to the Jericho.' Eimi had wandered off, and Torin was too lazy to look and acknowledge the random direction-less voice, simply grunting in response while he pulled away at the mounds of items in attempts to reorganise at least himself. 'This place is all about construction and building right now, the trees they have around here are pretty high-end.' This time he turned, nodding with a subtle smile on his face as he moved to set the ship up for the small sail to shore. 'You didn't even know that before you got here, did you.'

'Nope!~'

'Awesome.'

[/size][/blockquote]

[Deleted]

“Have you seen them?”

“Stripe Jacket”?

“Darius Fox?”

“Green dress, known as the Heretic?”

“Her name's Robin, a doctor?”

A series of frenzied questions were left hanging in the air as Taro moved from vacant face to vacant face. This was the fifth platform he’d tried so far and things were not looking hopeful. Grasping the fedora to his head the young musician wasted no time catching his breath before launching back into the canopy. Treegap was a strange place with a large proportion of the town built amongst the trees themselves. His lack of success on ground level, interrogating builder and tourist alike had led his search upwards, where the locals dwelled. Now however, he’d near enough searched the whole of the island and in record time. With the assistance of his Devil Fruit powers, the Hard-Hat first mate was leaping branch to branch, landing heavily before blasting off to the next, giving no care to the slaps and scratches of the smaller branches between. Yet as his desperate search continued he must have missed a step as next thing he knew, Taro was tumbling toward the ground.

Crashing heavily into the mossy forest floor, finally he stilled, defeated. It didn’t make sense, none of it. He could feel the tightening in his chest again, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. As he rose to his feet the pirate rookie relaxed his right hand, two pieces of paper fell slowly to the ground. As he stood there, faces of his former crewmates staring up into the sky he found his fist tightening once more. They were gone.

“GOD DAMN IT!”

The strike shook through the base of the tree, travelling up the trunk and into the leaves above. Taro’s balled fist remained where it had landed, splintered bark dripped with fresh blood. Most crew’s virgin to the Grand Line would probably have crumbled losing both their doctor and navigator, not to mention their strongest fighter. That said, they still had the multifaceted Captain and canon-wielding, ex-marine marksman. That at least had to count for something. Turning his back on the fallen wanted posters, the drunkard musician found his resolve and readied to return to dock. Before he could however, he was stopped.

“Hey now, that ain’t what I’d call a smart move, not around here kid.” The speaker was a large man, he wore denim overalls and loose cotton trousers, tucked into thick leather boots. His trunk like arms were wrapped around a significant bundle of wooden planks and his belt was lined with assorted tools. It was not a leap of imagination to see the man was some kind of carpenter.

“Oh no, and why pray tell is that?” the first mates mood was still grim, his mind filled with uncharacteristically aggressive imagery.

“The locals you may’a took notice, live amongst the treetops. The town is full o’ builders true enough, but the trees here ain’t to be touched. They hold them with certain, reverence if you follow? These trees are a part of these people, they care to them and live with them – the wood y’see is from elsewheres.” Taro took the man in properly for the first time, his eyes were emerald green and his grin was missing teeth. The way he spoke and the fact he referred to the indigenous population as the locals, implied he was not from here himself.

“I know a pirate when I see one, what do you care of cultures and customs?” the musician didn’t much desire an answer, what did this island matter – his friends were gone.

“Ah so you does, but it’s not of custom nor culture that I care for – jus’ respect. We ain’t here for lootin' or plunderin’, we’re here to help.” Sure enough, now that Taro came to think of it, much of the town that he had seen so far was thoroughly ramshackle, the dock was full but in a state of disrepair and everywhere was the sound of wooden mallet and saw.

“We?” Taro pressed, his interest slightly piqued.

“Aye,” the large builder began but his eye fell to the wanted posters on the ground. He raised an eyebrow, “a bounty hunter?”

If he was worried he didn’t show it, it was a little unnerving. Stooping his large hand curled around the dropped papers. First he examined the girl; a grin flickered across his face, snide. The folding man thought he saw a flash of derision in the wood-carriers eye. He proceeded to examine the second, his expression changed.

“You’re huntin’ this man?” he asked sceptically.

“Why, have you seen him?” hope flickered back into Taro’s features.

“Not in my life,” came the disappointing reply. “Yet I trouble to see how someone as scrawny as yourself comes to make prey of a forty million bounty head. Even with them fruit powers.”

A chill shot up the fair-haired layabout’s spine. Twice this man had shown himself to be self-assured; there was something worldly about him, something knowledgeable. The East-Blue rookie was unused to other pirates, at least other pirates that were not intimidated by the Hard-Hat reputation. This man seemed to have no knowledge of it. It had been a while since Taro had been in the Grand Line, he’d forgotten what a big world it really was.

“No, not prey... he’s my crewmate, so is the woman – they went missing, well left us somewhere between here and Reverse Mountain. It seems strange that they could just disappear.”

The half-sized giant of a man glanced to the tree and began to join the dots. He looked at the young musician with an understanding expression.

“Aye, not much chance to disappear either but as I said, I ain’t seen ‘em. Interestin’ though, you’re the second green crew to come through here in a short while. Big time blues rookies, but that don’t mean a lot here. Seems like your friends were using ya’ for a lift, not unusual, my advice is forget ‘em. A man’s gotta look after himself on these seas... himself and his crew, no time for leavers.”

Taro had had enough of this man’s talk, Robin was a bit of a mystery and Darius had a past, but neither would abandon them without cause of that he was certain. Still he was amiable enough, he’d warmed a lot since he’d realised that Taro himself was not a bounty hunter. His demeanour was warmer; an element of his cold intrigue had diminished. He outstretched a meaty hand.

“I’m Dozer, Shipwright division. If you ever fancy a drink between scallywags, I’m your man. If ya’ wanna help out, come find us and if your thing doesn’t work out, we’re always looking for hands. A man of your... potential, could potentially climb a long way, given guiding hands.”

“Thanks,” he replied, shaking the hand firmly, “but I’m the First Mate of the Hard-Hat pirates and musician extraordinaire. No matter what, that isn’t going to change anytime soon. I may take you up on that drink though, see you around Dozer. I’m Taro Span.”

The walk back didn’t take long, but now he’d had sometime to cool off, the musician saw the island as if for the first time. The evidence of some recent disaster was clear and despite the repair work that was already well underway, it was obvious much remained to be done. Dozer had mentioned another rookie crew, had they done this? It was unusual for the Hard-Hats to arrive after a disaster. By the time the musician had emerged from the tree line on the dock edge, a dread had returned to the pit of his stomach. Timidly he returned to the now secured Jericho, which somewhat surprisingly wasn’t the largest vessel at the dock. Eventually he climbed back aboard his home; the ship looked almost as beat up as Treegap itself. He sighed and decided to bite the bullet.

“There’s no sign... they're gone.”

[Die]

Treegap. It was hard enough to believe that they had managed to survive Reverse Mountain despite everything that had happened. The Jolly Jericho still bore scars as a reminder of their incredibly hazardous travel up and over the barrier into the Grand Line. From the distance their ship was from the shore though, the island had fared far worse than the ship had in its present state.

Imuka closed her eyes as she sniffed the air while Torin and his sister were having their usual argument. A few seconds later, she wrinkled her brow. Ash and blood. The smell of ash was unusually strong, and given the state of repairs being carried out on the island, it had lingered for quite some time. The Hard-Hat gunner noticed that the docks weren't all quite there as well, still in a semi-state of repair like the rest of the island. But it was not a problem as their ship was still able to dock.

"What...what happened to this island?" she asked herself. As it had piqued her interest, it was now her priority in finding out what had happened. The rumbling in her stomach had reminded her of her top priority. She had been asleep for a while after saving her crew's ass at Reverse Mountain, and she had woken up to an almost empty ship. While the crew's former doctor, Robin, had helped her recover immensely, she could not help but feel saddened at her sudden and unannounced departure. Both she and the crew's navigator had just disappeared during the time she was asleep.

Such was life though. People have their own interests to pursue, and the come and go because of them. Wherever they were, she was sure they had some semblance of an idea as to what they were doing. She could only hope they would come back to them eventually. She missed Robin, and even Darius at this point. She could not lie, he had actually started growing on her quite a bit.

With a heavy heart and a sigh, she donned her characteristic armor and picked up the Var. The gunner walked down the gangplank and onto the makeshift dock. The town, or what was left of it, was busy as workers moved about repairing and rebuilding everything that was lost in the apparent cataclysm that rolled through. Taro had gone off asking everyone where their two beloved crewmates had gone.

As soon as she stepped into the thick of the activity, she could already hear whispers spreading around. Imuka also caught a few glances. It was apparent either her massive cannon blade or the white and blue Marine colors of her armor that drew most of the attention. She shrugged it off, however, as she was used to the attention. It came with her appearance after all.

Imuka was barred from proceeding further by a large, heavyset man who had placed down a large stack of wood planks between him and her. "Hold up there. What's a Marine doing here? You got a lot of nerve showing up now after all that's happened," the man said as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and appeared rather cross.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not Marine, not anymore, she simply replied. "I just arrived here and I want to know what happened is all."

"Really now? Forgive me, but I honestly have a hard time believing that you're not a Marine with that armor you're waltzing around in. You sure as hell look like a Marine to me,"

[/b] he said.

He did not appear keen on budging, remaining stalwart with his hands crossed in front of him. He even stood up tall now with his head up high and puffed his chest out in some sort of display of intimidation. He looked down at the short gunner from his vantage point way up high, as though he was a half-giant.

"Look, I really don't care if you think I'm a Marine or not. But if you really think so , take a look at this,"[/b] she said as she pulled out a folded piece of paper and unfolded it in front of the man. It was her wanted poster, and by now she had accrued a somewhat respectable bounty on her head.

"Well I'll be, I guess I had you wrong," the man said as he loosened up and brought his arms down.

"Yeah, I guess you did," she retorted back. Her piercing gaze had grown into a bored and exasperated look.

The man tightened up again at her snarky remark as though he was ready to strike her. When seemed like a fight was about to break out, he burst out laughing. It was hearty, deep laughter, enough to grab the attention of several more of his compatriots.

"Hahaha! You're alright!" he chuckled. "I like you. You got a lot of spunk for such a small girl, y'know?" he calmed down and stopped laughing, before reaching over and putting a hand down on her shoulder guard. "Look, I'll tell you all of what happened later. My shift is almost over as it is. Meet me by the mess for food and drinks or something. Oh and, you might want to repaint your fancy armor and gun or something. You might give other people like me the wrong idea. Just a friendly advice. Name's Salvatore, Shipwright Division. Sal works fine too, whichever you wanna call me. Just holler and I'll find you, okay? "[/b]

"Alright," she nodded, a bit confused at the turn of events. Until then, she planned on wandering around the area for a bit, looking at the handiwork of a rather infamous female pirate and all Marine attempts to stop her on the island. She passed by a rather defeated-looking Taro as he was apparently on his way back to the ship. She had never seen him look so beaten before, but suspected it had something to do with their former comrades. The gunner began her own investigation of the town and docks while waiting for Sal's shift to end.[/blockquote][/size]

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'There's one thing I regret about making you, Jericho.'

Torin said with a sigh, running his hand across the side of the ship.

'I've made you too freaking huge.'
And with a tug at a strong knot, the anchor went crashing into the sea.

[/center]

A lift of his helmet, a wipe of his brow, a hiss as he forgot for the umpteenth time that his nose had been sliced open a week or so prior.. The Captain of the fore-mentioned monstrosity realised his turtle didn't seem so huge when lined up beside other visitors methods of ocean travel. None the less the reality of manning their own vessel with four less hands on deck struck hard in the form of muscle aches and extra work for an exceptionally lazy Hard-Hat, who's sister in fact continued cleaning up the ships appearance long after Torin had collapsed and started rolling around muttering intangible nonsense. He was eventually stopped when Eimi had finished, placing her foot firmly on his rotating midriff and moving his head-wear away from his eyes. 'Yknow, Taro and Imuka have already gotten off.' Her response was a tounge dangling groan as his lifeless eyes just looked straight up to the sky. 'What are you even doing? you were fine like ten minutes ago!' As punishment her heel sunk deep and hit home, bringing him to sit up and clench his stomach. 'O-Ow?! I'm trying to feel sadness for my departing friends!' He had no idea how to feel or react past complete loss in which he had experienced in the past, its not like Darius and Robin had died or anything, they just left. '.. The others seemed pretty self-contained about it when I told them, shouldn't you kinda group talk it out?'

'What like, hold hands and talk about feelings?'

'You're completely oblivious to the human norm.'

[/b][/right]

She was done with this fool of a sibling, flailing her arms into the air and going about her own business here and there once more, it was her losing interest which perked his. 'You got this far on that, arguably that alone. I'm not sure whether its a lack of conscience or sanity.' Torin considered it a compliment either way, shaking his hand back and forth slightly with a subtle 'Eeeeh' emitting from him. 'But you said it yourself, this ship is too big for us to handle.. It barely got through the mountain with that large a crew.' She pulled a box from the side with her foot, dropping onto it with elbows on knees and hands resting under her chin in a pondering fashion. 'Even I'm not awesome enough to move this big guy around alone, plus its pretty banged up.' Torin saw her point, leaning in unnecessarily close to a crack in the ships frame, prodding it a couple of times before looking back to his horribly confused social company. 'Gonna need to fix this.'

'You're a credit to tacticians of piracy everywhere.'

'Nah, I mean properly fixed, like an overhaul!'

[/b]

She raised a brow, it had hardly sailed enough as it is, and the inventor was already contemplating how to change it? 'l'll make the harder jobs easier, so instead of the multiple hands needed to do big jobs, we'll only need a pair to handle each major task on the ship.' He suddenly seemed quite enthusiastic about it, like he hadn't actually thought of the idea just now. '... But how do I get everything I need..' As is Torin's way, a genius without resource or plan. With that arguably stupid looking thinking face consuming him while he rubbed his fingers agaisnt his chin, he looked out to the amazing island that lay out before them. He hadn't really taken it in since the observation from a distance away, it was unique to say the least, but he was much more in favour of what was under the ground.. Not what sprouted up from it. 'I'll need more crew members.' Eimi nearly collapsed from her seating place, launching from it after regaining her balance and clonking the famous Hard-Hat without fear of its tough exterior, still causing the desired damage. 'You're amazing discoveries are wonderful for the first five minutes Ass-hat!' He simply grumbled, never appreciated for his expert step-by-step planning.

'Alright alright, do you anything else about this place?'
This was apparently the right thing to be asking.

'Besides taking advantage of operation 'Fix the forest' they've got going on here, theres marines, pirates.. Everything a growing Captain needs.'
She always was the 'do it yourself' type.

'So we find someone to fix the ship.'

'With you.'

'.. Of course, then we get out necessities.'

'Maybe a few extra hands.'

'You're stealing my moment.'

'What moment?!'

'THE MOMENT!'

'Torin Vent I swear I will punch you so hard!' He raised his arms in defence as she did in assault, enough to silence the questionable moment. '... Alright, so supplies.' He spoke, but did not move, looking to his Sister once more who had reduce to simply making get along gestures to him. And he was about to do so had his first mate and first friend came back with what could only be described as utter defeat looming over his entire being. 'Who's g- Oooh...' Apparently the disbanded crew to near its original founders struck more of a chord to his musician than his cold and small soul. 'Eimi said it was their choice, after all, for whatever reason.' He had to think of some way to silver line this. 'Uuh.. Darius' thing! Yea! He left it for us, but its not like him to go giving things away for good, right? He'll totally be back for it!' Said wrist dial and its many assorted features that Darius had with it was tightly on his wrist, spiralling away, which led to question. 'Hey, so this resets its field to the next island after a random time based on the islands size and pull, right?' Eimi smiled for once in their whole conversation. 'That's the Smart-ass I know.' She approached the ramp down from the ship also, tapping it as she walked past. 'I'd say about two or three days on this kinda place, then it'll fixate towards the next island.. Or if you just so happen to be a genius inventor, now'd be the time to think of loop holes for that kinda thing.'

'Loop holes.. Hmmmm...' He scrunched his forehead, glaring at the tool as if it would suddenly speak and tell him the answer. 'I've got stuff to do myself besides watch your battered excuse for a ship y'know, but I doubt it'd need protecting in a place like this.' She hopped onto land, stretching from side to side before checking her signature weapons were firmly on her sides. 'If you need me I've left a DenDen in your bag, besides the life and death situations try not to come crying to me about everything Brother.' Salute, snigger and sprint, she could only escape a calculated retort for so long.. Soon..

Torin shook his whole body, snapping himself out of watching his Sister dart into the Greenland of the island . 'Y'know I've never been in a forest before, let alone a whole island of giant-ass-trees!' As if it was genetically imprinted he nearly mimic'd Eimi's preparation, hopping off the ship then running on the spot while turning back to Taro. 'I'm gonna see if I can find the central area of efforts, trade or whatever! We're gonna need some quality stuff to get Jericho rearing to go again!' Nearly tripping as he began to walk backward, he turned to pretend it never happened before he too rushed into the mystical island..

Well, mystical to him.
[/size][/blockquote]

[Deleted]

Fair wisps of blonde hair blew in the sea breeze, pinned between the young musicians head and the fedora atop his head. His feet stood firmly upon the wooden deck of the Jolly Jericho, he was as he felt, alone.

The Hard-Hat pirates had been more than a bunch of people sailing under the same flag, to Taro they had become family. ‘The Grand Line was meant to be our greatest adventure.’ Part of him had always known that the world wasn’t perfect. Part of him had always suspected that one day they’d all wind up dead somewhere. Yet never had any part of him suspected that they would not end up, wherever they ended up, together.

“Here blow the winds of change,” he muttered ominously – draped over the side rail of the Jericho his own sad blue eyes stared back at him. He’d never been good at being alone, not really. It had just taken losing a sense of belonging to realise it.

Meekly raising himself back to his feet, Taro trudged below deck like a sulking toddler. Naturally the musician felt the lure of his instrument; forever the guitar had been an outlet for his emotion. Slowly he navigated the corridor, shooting pointless glares at the rooms of his missing crewmates before finally arriving at his own quarters. To call the place a mess would be unfair, in reality it’s what Taro liked to call alternatively organised. Sheets of paper were pinned to the walls, or scrunched in balls that littered the floor. His work surface was likewise decorated with a mess of half-finished songs, and fully finished glass bottles. Navigating the familiar mess the guitarist found himself reaching out to the axe guitar hybrid, the axe-tar. Then something in his manner shifted suddenly, anger filled his eyes. He grasped the neck of the instrument tightly. ‘This isn't me… this was never me.’

Storming back above deck full of empty purposefulness the guitarist’s eyes flashed with decisive rage, Darius’ face flickering behind them tauntingly. In one sudden, rash turn he ripped the metal guitar through the air and released it sending it soaring airborne. It was almost like he was watching himself watching, as the instrument Torin had crafted sunk into the ocean with a heavy splash.

“Melodramatic idiot…” the first-mate muttered a self-barb.

It didn’t help that the two remaining members of the crew seemed utterly unphased. In Torin’s beautifully broken brain everything seemed always to be just hunky dory and trying to read Imuka’s face was like trying to read a stone. Both had left him here, to stew in his own negativity. ‘To hell with that.’

When music could no longer sooth his spirits, the bottle usually could. Right now not even Taro could bare his own company. Perhaps it was time already to take up that offer; a drink with a stranger could be a good release. With a familiar goal the young pirate un-boarded the Jericho and begun toward the derelict town.

At least… he would have. Pulled from his self-absorbed state by an alien sound, a rumbling like a quiet landslide the musician’s eyes looked up just in time to see a pair of amber eyes collide with his own. In an explosion of blonde hair the musician and stranger summersaulted head over heel as the whole world span away.

“Ooph!~” Taro exclaimed winded, he peered up to see the source of the miniature disaster. A fairly young lady was pinning him to the hard floor.

“Sorry, so sorry… I thought you’d move, they always move. Why didn’t cha’ move?” the fair-haired young flame fired out an apology. Atop her remarkably long mane was positioned a leather helmet that was home to a rather flash pair of blue goggles. The helmet was also decorated with a couple of badges. Around her neck was what appeared to the musician to be a pair of strange looking earmuffs, which was an odd choice given the warm climate. “You have sad eyes” she observed invasively.

Still atop the fallen assaultee, she caught Taro’s hat as it floated slowly back to the ground and pressed it solidly back atop his head. Finally she stood up as the fallen Hard-Hat pirate wordlessly offered his hand and was pulled firmly back to his feet. Only as this happened did he noticed the wheels that lined the bottom of the girls shoes.

“Well… you have pretty hair,” he rebuked half dazed.

Ignoring the compliment the girl wheeled around dramatically, opening her arms widely as if embracing the large ship from afar. “What’s he called?” the girl asked, curiously the same question that the musician had been pondering.

“The Jolly Jericho,” Taro stated simply, invisibly impressed that the girl had naturally referred to the boat by its correct gender.

The young firecracker gave the ship a long hard look and then spinning back to face the young musician, offered a strange frown. “He doesn’t look so jolly.”

“It’s been a rough day or a rough few in his case. Torin will see that he gets fixed up though, he always manages to get things done.” The complimentary words seemed half an insult, but he spoke more to himself than anyone. The young girl had already started wheeling away from the man she’d half wounded, more interested in the vessel than his un-insightful moaning.

Normally perhaps he would have opted to question or even forcibly stop any stranger who simply strolled onto their ship. However Taro wasn’t in a particularly caring mood and besides that, she hadn’t strolled, she’d rolled – there was something weird about her. Starting towards her before changing his mind about something, the musician shouted a question at her back.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“Peria,” she revealed cheerfully.

“Alright Peria… just don’t break anything.” Warning given it was way past due that a certain thirst was quenched. Wasn’t it?

[Die]

In typical Imuka fashion, the gunner wandered off on her own. It became a regular occurrence within the Hard-Hats at practically every island they had visited thus far. She preferred to maintain some amount of autonomy from the crew despite her growing attachment to them. In some ways, it was for assurance that she was not the cause of whatever incidents that involved the crew as a whole. Taking the blame off of the one wielding a weapon as obnoxiously large as the Var would bring some form of relief to her.

Perhaps the only advantage of color of her armor and the presence of her cannon blade provided at this moment was the fact that most, if not all, of the workers present gave her a wide berth. They were wise not to start anything else with her. This also allowed her to begin her own investigation into the recent events on the island, something that would take her mind further off of the sudden and unannounced departures of Darius and Robin.

Imuka shouldered the Var as she made her way into what remained of the port town. Although a mere few days had passed since the Hoshi's, or rather, Estelle's rampage through the island, reconstruction was already moving at full steam. The scars still marred the land, however. The gunner's boots left deep thuds on the ground, eventually turning into soft rustling as she stepped onto the beach. Her dark blue hair, tied back into the usual long ponytail, flew in the sea breeze. The gunner examined her immediate surroundings.

Despite the noise from reconstruction efforts, Imuka found it almost eerily quiet. Human activity notwithstanding, there was an absence of animal activity around the beach. The calls of seagulls and other shorebirds were nowhere to be found. In fact, they themselves were nowhere to be found. It was as if they had completely abandoned this part of the island. Even the leftover scraps from the workers' meals were not enough to bring them back. The gunner slowly strolled down the beach, avoiding the more damp areas so as to avoid sinking into the wet sand from the weight of her equipment.

She found that the shoreline was littered with debris. Most of it had yet to be cleaned up by the reconstruction effort. Pieces of driftwood, metal, barrels, and crates among other things had washed up shore. Imuka started her investigation here, picking up several pieces and examining them closely. Flies and amphipods scattered from wherever she touched. From the otherwise waterlogged pieces of wood, she noticed several of them had been severely scorched, as though they had been on fire. The tell-tale sea green patterns on some pieces led her to realize that these came from Marine battleships. Here, the smell of blood and ash was the strongest. Even with her steel hard constitution, she wrinkled her nose and placed a hand over it.

After a few minutes of quickly sifting through the wreckage, she came to the conclusion that there was some major battle that took place. She had also found that several scorch marks were not consistent with a fire, but possibly came from something much, much hotter. As she made her way back towards the town, something caught her attention. The gunner quickly noticed the telltale white uniforms of Marine personnel, and quickly ducked behind a rock, observing them but taking great care to ensure she would not be spotted, even with the massive cannonblade behind her. The gunner noticed that something was off about them. From her distance, with her gunner's eye, she could make out pale faces with sunken eyes, as though those men had not slept in days. They appeared to be extremely weary, their glum countenances belied some sort of grim discovery.

Once they disappeared, Imuka gingerly stepped out from behind cover, picked up her weapon, and continued back in town. Whatever wreckage that was probably left over from the rampage had long since been cleaned up and possibly discarded, but the gunner did not need that to continue her investigation. The dozen or so craters that marked the land provided enough clues for her. Stepping around a few workers and ignoring their gazes, she came upon the nearest one.

She spent quite a while examining a few of the craters, taking into account features like size, impact angle, and scorch marks. While she was no forensic scientist, she had more than enough knowledge of artillery and explosives to know that no Marine cannon left impact craters like these. They were not consistent with any ball-firing weapon in existence. Wondering if she could piece together what happened herself, Imuka slid down into the crater, and began digging around for remnants of what might have made such a thing. Without any equipment suited for this job, it would have been a long and tedious process for any normal person. However, Imuka had very good eyes, something that was a necessity for her job. It did not take long before she recovered several metal fragments and stored them in an empty contained latched onto the side of the Var.

Imuka slowly climbed back out of the crater, and went off in search of Sal. By now, she really wanted to now what had happened. Her own investigation had found that whoever had caused this much destruction shared some similarities to an infamous pirate who had participated in the Whitebeard War at Marineford. She only needed Sal to confirm her suspicions now. Returning to where she had encountered the large shipwright, she called out to him, "Hey Sal, are you done yet!?"

A quieter, and much shorter, "Yo." was her answer. Once again ignoring any sort of attention given to her, she entered the mess hall, which was covered by a large white tent. Upon spotting Sal and a few of his comrades, she walked over, propped the Var against one end of the table, and took a seat on the bench. Though once she had taken a seat, she noticed one other person, obscured by Sal's massive size. It was a Marine, and a particularly disheveled looking one who kept staring down at the table and shaking slightly. That did not stop the gunner from reacting immediately as she drew a pistol on him. Sal quickly placed an arm in front of him, grunting and slowly shaking his head at her. He was protecting him from potential violence on Imuka's part. Once she noticed that he did not react to the actions of both her and Sal, she cautiously put the gun away. "He won't be a problem, will he?" she asked.

Sal breathed a sigh of relief as he reached over to his right and slid a tray with a large bowl of stew and half a loaf of bread to her, "Nah. If anything he's pretty darn close from quitting from what he's told me." Remembering her hunger, she promptly dug in, going through it like a school of piranhas on a hapless animal unfortunate enough to encounter them. "Tell me what happened, and what's with the Marine?" Imuka asked Sal, ignoring any formalities and getting straight down to brass tacks.

"You sure love getting to the point," he chuckled before getting started on the story. "Alright so..."

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'Wooooah...'
'Yea, that about sums it up, and I was here too.'
'I heard this kinda stuffs Grand-Line standard though.'

'Guess so New Guy, doesn't mean we can handle it though.' Torin had practically iron-manned through the remains of the districts, desolated prior-inhabited areas and otherwise wrecked environments that one would assume was very recently beautiful natural habitats. He wasn't exactly the most emotionally in-tune individual, the gleam of adventure and drama that this place emitted was something right now only he could see it seemed.. Everyone else were up to their eyeballs in reality of their homes and casualties. The place was a mess, he was all to familiar with the sight of vision-wide construction but, this was something else entirely. The person he had stumbled on in the deeper parts of the island had yet to give him his name, but the guy no older than himself sported memorable dirt, scruff and a can-do attitude about him. 'So despite our efforts to maintain the forests.. We need its power now more than ever.' The trees in which they took the smallest pieces from in attempt to not disturb them were higher than anything the Hard-Hat had ever seen, he could easily compare it to the peak of reverse mountain were he to exaggerate slightly. Around each individual tree stemmed projects and construction, like each one was its own central node attempting to aid the revitalisation of the island, it was quite poetic to the simple onlooking pirate captain.

'This looks to be a lot more people than the island's towns could inhabit.' observational as always, the man pointed off the a flag in the distance, waving over a majority of the smaller construction sites. 'Pirates seem to be our greatest asset recently, these guys just showed up not only offering a hand, but hundreds.' The vast increase in able hands was more than lucky for the one guy looking to repair his own ship as opposed to the island. 'Must be a load of really awesome shipwrights and carpenters then.. Huh.' He nodded, scratching his head before tilting it towards Torin, leaning in with an inquisitive brow. 'You're head-hunting, right?' Torin was quick to assume he meant some sort of bounty, not like any marines were around, but people knowing who he was, regardless of the weight his name currently carried? Wasn't exactly preffered from his opinion. He moved his hands up in defence before quickly making it look like he was just adjusting his helmet, the guy must've meant his true intentions, good eye. 'The express-way to this part of the ocean wasn't exactly the most graceful.' The first smile he had seen from the guy sprouted there and then, a quick chuckle escaping and a tear wiped from his eye. 'I've never heard someone actually having trouble getting over that, I heard it basically did all the work for you.'

'Yea well, I guess it was in a bad mood.' Torin scrunched his face, folding his arms to only have his actions cause more laughter. 'Look, around here we're all about helping out, as you can see with out current situation.. But you're probably going to have to find someone not local, or they'll just smack you upside the head for being so selfish.' The man stood from his half built cart, rubbing his chin and looking about the multitude of sites. 'There was this one lady going from place to place. Looked to me like she didn't have any exclusive ties to the work-load around here.' If it was Eimi being a complete ass, they would have words.

'Didn't happen to have like, brown hair, did she?'

'Nah, like, really orange-ish.'

'That's a weird hair colour.'

'Right? Maybe it was like, Auburn.' Torin nodded at the thought. 'Yea, I mean saying a hair colour is like orange would be like saying someone has green hair, and that would be really dumb.' They seemed to agree in synchronisation, judging by their matching constantly moving bobble heads. 'Well, guess I'll go look for her, see if I'm lucky enough to find any others on the way.. With the state my ships in it may need more than just one craftsman.' The new friend of Torin's shook his hands from side to side, making an uncertain noise. 'I've heard she's pretty good, be real handy to have her around.' The Captain'd be the judge of that! And with certain attempts to judge this apparently talented individual in mind, he gave a light salute to the man before backtracking to previous sites with questions of a certain somebody on his tongue instead of just anyone. Funny thing was, every guy he had previously talked to about helping, were now just making him walk closer and closer to his ship in search of this woman.

'Oh! uh, Red haired.. -ish lady?'
'That slightly fits my description.'

'R-Right.. Wouldn't happen to know of a.. auburn-orange haired builder around these parts?'
'Hmmm... Seems like an odd colour for someone's hair..'

'That's what I said! I guess I'll keep this way then, apparently she's around these parts.'

'Good luck with that.' And as they crossed paths, and parted just as fast, the clearing in which the Jericho was stationed came into view, no sooner than Torin stopping in his tracks, clutching onto his helmet and his jaw dropping as close to the ground as it could muster. 'W-What the..' He sprinted over, looking at every re-painted plank and detailed design which coated the previous simple coloured vessel.. Even the Jericho was grinning, cheek to cheek! He must've been standing in awe for more than a few seconds, it wasn't long before the culprit came wobbling back with paint cans and toolboxes stacked past her own height by an unfathomable amount,. Slowly sliding across the ground before nudging into Torin's back. 'Uuh.. Sorry, whoever, I can't really see where I'm going...' She dropped the things on the ground, with a large thump and a few sweat drops as she darted from side to side as if cheering the slowly tipping tower on to remain intact before looking on to her victim.. Who apparently stood, pointing at the ship, eyes twitching and brows raised, his other hand pointed at her.

'Yooooou....~'
'M-Meeeee...?~

[Deleted]

The thick welcoming stench of booze hung in the air, disguising a subtle undercurrent of smoke and general manly musk. Already entirely at home, it had not taken long for the unkempt scallywag to find his man. Dozer was coated in a fresh layer of sweat, no doubt from hauling that wood to wherever it was going – he was also already very much merry.

“What are ya saiyin’? Just cause I said we should share a drink, doesn’t mean I should be buyin’!”

A light chuckle rippled through the gaggle of labourers who had the great pleasure of sharing a table with the raucous Dozer. Frowning Taro took a seat to the left of the hulking shipwright. Next to the other men the young buccaneer looked positively well-kempt and entirely un-macho.

“Yeah, n’ this is a working man’s tavern, should be the workin’ men who are bought the rounds!” The sentiment was met with general agreement before the musician quickly cut in.

“And where are they then?” he made a show of looking around, as if trying to locate such a model employee. Ironically the working man’s tavern saw most its use in what would be considered working hours. However to call it a tavern would be far too generous, at least in the Hard-Hat first mate’s opinion.

The bar was a ramshackle little building, the windows were in place and it had four walls and a roof, but that was about the best that could be said of it. The floorboards were loose and heavily stained, the bar was actually just a large slab of wood positioned over two barrels and much of the furnishings were actually crates and other dock-based miscellany.

Nevertheless, Taro’s little joke also earned a generous few laughs and like that he was accepted into the afternoon merriment.

“Look’e boys, wine” Dozer noticed obviously to a chorus of wooing and whistles. Yet as the waitress went to pour a glass, the irritable guitarist had already covered his glass with a hand. He proceeded to drink deeply from the bottle, his hand clasped familiarly around its neck. By the time he put it down, he’d proved his point. ‘What point was that?’

“So, I’ve been wondering. What are a bunch of pirate miscreants doing helping locals repair their town? Surely that’s just an honest day’s living.” The musician pulled an expression of distaste, the thought of labour apparently much harder to stomach than half a bottle of wine in a few glugs.

“Well it ain’t all from goodwill if that’s what ya’ mean,” the bulky builder began. “For one, the locals here are especially accommodating of pirates, n’ everyone needs sometime with rock beneath their feet. Then there’s for two, we need new hands and we’re usin’ this chance to pick up some of the young boys… and a girl, maybe.” Squinting at his hand Dozer lifted two fingers then three, “and for three, to get to drink in the company of such fine… company.”

“Don’t forget the chance to work with Treegap wood, not many’a shipwright can make that claim.” This man was also a pirate, as far as Taro could tell. By his estimation about half the men here were.

“Mm?” the musician offered a hum of half interest. “Wasn’t it that the trees here were considered sacred, or something? Wouldn’t think they’d go cutting them down.”

“We don’t, and with the lumberjacks gone there won’t be another cut down in my lifetime if all goes well.” Obviously the young fair-haired stranger seemed confused, so the local continued with an explanation. “The lumberjacks had been cutting down trees, and so we have some of that left around, moreover in the fight with the Hoshi’s many more trees were damaged or knocked down. Those that are usable are being harvested, to make special ships for the village.”

Taro nodded. “It’s almost poetic, rebuilding with the ruins… You should call them phoenix ships.”

“Haha, might be we do.”

As the conversation flowed on, so did the alcohol and soon enough the folding-man was half way through his second bottle and already feeling more himself. Being a member of the Hard-Hats hadn’t entirely curbed his drinking, but neither had he had much opportunity to be around his fellow intoxicants. Soon enough he was hooting at bawdy jokes just like the dock-workers.

“So wait… how’d they get the stains out?” the table leaned in, in anticipation.

“They didn’t,” Taro concluded as a roaring guffaw burst from the small tavern, echoing into the busy docks outside.

FFFRRRRRRUUUUUUCCCCCCHHHHHH!

The musician’s eyes widened as the doorway and surrounding area of wall exploded in a shower of splintered wood. A huge bolt twisted through the air, rupturing through the room as if it were made of paper. With another massive explosion of shattered floorboard the massive arrow buried itself deeply into the ground. As the debris began to settle the guitarist could make out the silhouette of a massive man, with a bizarre arm. It was the outline of some terrible monster. Raising to his feet the drunken youngster readied himself, trying to gain some composure for the potential fight.

Finally revealed was a man whose sheer size made Dozer appear positively puny, without the adjustments he wouldn’t have been able to fit through the door at all. On his arm was mounted a mammoth crossbow, the source of the destruction. His shaggy black hair framed his face entirely, growing down and joining with the thick black beard that hung from his chin. With a single line of dialogue the mystery man revealed his identity.

“Get back to work!”

[Die]

By now more and more workers began to pile into the large tent that was the mess hall. Cooks had begun slowly filing in, heaving large platters piled high in food. Imuka took a notice that at least half of the workers here, both construction and otherwise, appeared unusually burly, as though they all came from the same crew. The gunner raised an eyebrow, making note of the strange sort of uniformity that seemed to pervade the entirety of this "Shipwright Division," or at least the small sample population that surrounded her. Several of them grumbled and shot Imuka and the traumatized Marine dirty looks, to which Salvatore smiled and waved, signalling that they were okay. With what could have been a sticky situation averted, Imuka's attention was once again claimed by her

"Excuse me for sec," she said as she stood up and quickly made her way over to one end of the food table. She picked up a plate and worked her way down, piling on as much food as was physically possible onto the plate. Slabs of meat, pan-fried veggies, and noodles formed a greasy mound of food. Satisfied with what she had, she grabbed a large cup, filled it with water, and sat back down at her table.

"Alright, please continue," she said.

"Actually, I think it'd be better of this guy told you the story," Sal replied as he pointed a thumb over to the shaking Marine.

“Fuck off man. P-please don’t make me do it. I-I really just w-want to forget it okay?” the Marine chided.

”Just one more time, alright? I promise you won’t have to talk about what you saw to anyone else,” Sal said as he procured two mugs of beer from a passing cart. ”I’ll even make it worth your while.”

The Marine glared at Sal for a second before his right arm lashed out and snatched a mug. He began chugging down the beer, stopping half way and slamming it on the table. ”Okay…here goes.”

Even if he was on the side of the enemy, Imuka couldn’t help but feel some sort of sympathy for him. If whatever he had seen was enough to reduce him to a state like this, then they really had something to worry about on the Grand Line.

”We passing by on our way to Nightbeast Island when we received a distress call from this island. I was the one who received the emergency transmission…” he said as he started to chug his mug at an alarming rate before demanding another. After that he stared into the fresh mug as he continued his story, still trembling.

---

”Sir!” shouted a Marine as he clambered on deck with a Den Den Mushi in his hand.

”What is it, Miller?” asked the commanding officer.

”It’s Kugel’s crew, sir!” Miller responded as he handed over the Den Den Mushi.

He picked up the Den Den Mushi’s receiver. Immediately the snail adopted a panicked expression. ”Kugel, what’s your situation?”

”R-reinforcements! Send reinforcements to Treegap! The Hoshi are on this island and have escaped! E-estelle is-!”

The transmission cut off abruptly, ending in more explosions and the sounds of gurgling. Miller looked over to port before a bright flash erupted in the distance, followed by the sounds of distant thunder. A thick, black plume of smoke rose from a faraway location, rising high enough for everyone to see. The commanding officer looked over, eyes wide with shock before he clenched his teeth and narrowed his gaze. That was where Kugel’s crew had been.

”Shit! All vessels, change course for Treegap! Our brothers need us!”

---

”When got there… Everything was over…” Miller continued as he downed another mug and then grabbed another.

---

The ships that had diverted to Treegap as reinforcements slowly pulled into what was left of the docks. The air was dark, thick, and heavy from all the smoke. A sinister red and orange light permeated the entire surrounding. Soldiers had difficulty breathing, resorting to wetting pieces of clothing and placing them over their noses and mouths. Debris littered the area, with more still falling from the sky.

”What…what the hell happened here?” the commanding officer said as he wrinkled his nose. The air hung thick with the smell of burning debris…and flesh.

Miller looked over the side, and instantly regretted his actions as he immediately yanked himself away and crumpled to the deck, fighting the intense retching and heave of his chest. Ultimately, his stressors won as he emptied his stomach all over the deck. It was better there than over the side. He did not want to see what he had seen again. Many others ventured to have a look, severeal of them had similar reactions like Miller, while those with stronger constitutions only stood, staring in horror at what they just witnessed.

Bodies littered the waters surrounding what used to be the docks, bodies of Marines. Many of the corpses were nothing more than charred black husks of what they used to be. Others, boiled by the water, were horribly bloated. Their skin had split and the water around them had a greasy, oily slick on them, most likely their bodily fluids and fats had been boiled right out of them. Their skins were blotched red and white, third degree burns were the norm amongst most, if not all of them. The waters were stained red with blood. Floating with the corpses and debris were what looked like organs. Some of the Marines had been gutted, eviscerated. One corpse bumped into the hull of the ship, which revealed the unfortunate soldier who had his head caved in single-handedly by Estelle.

A look beyond the floating corpses revealed that most of the village was devastated as well. While there were little to no civilian casualties, the damage in itself was enough to instill the idea that no one had survived at all in the minds of the Marines. The commander looked around before spotting the twisted, still burning wreckage of the two ships under Kugel’s command. What remained of one lied right on top of the other, as though it had been thrown right on top.

”This…this is Hell. This is truly Hell…” the commander said to himself.

---

”There is only one person capable of something like that…”

[/color] Miller said. ”I’ve seen what happened during the Whitebeard War. Only one monster could have been responsible for that massacre.”

Imuka’s eyes were wide as she took in and processed all of this information. That had actually happened here? Just a mere few days ago?

It wuzzz the Nightmare Valkyrie…Estelle Ridden,” Miller revealed. ”The villagers confirmed that.”By now his speech was growing slower, and more slurred. He downed the final mug before resting his head on the table. ”Now…l-leemee alone. I…I don’t wandoo remember.”[/color]

”Well, that’s pretty much what happened. My men and I got here shortly after. By then those Marines had scooped up and buried most of their buddies. Pretty grisly stuff, I tell ya. I wouldn’t ever want to go through a mass burial like that. I hope you got what you needed out of that, little miss.”

Imuka’s widened gaze was focused straight through the table. Despite the rock hard constitution she had a reputation for amongst her crew in the Hard-Hats, even this had visibly shaken her. It would have been even worse if she was there to witness the aftermath of the massacre. Quickly her gaze narrowed as she looked back up at Sal, ”Yes, that helped a lot. Thank you.”[/color]

”No problem at all, little miss. Glad I could help.” he chuckled, giving off what seemed to be his trademark grin.

The gunner, given vital information, stood up. Her quest for knowledge and hunger fulfilled, she thanked Sal again before departing. With the Var in hand, she slowly left the workers’ camp. As soon as she left, her pace quickened. Normally she would have been fine, but hearing about someone like that worried her. ”Why? Why are there monsters like that here at the beginning of the Grand Line? I’d better warn the others.” She stopped for a moment, realizing the sort of responses her news would elicit from them. They would probably be their typical laid back comments displaying no sense of urgency or initiative in bolstering defenses in the event they encountered someone like that on their voyage. Regardless, the ex-Marine opted to at least tell them what happened as they too wanted to know what transpired on Treegap, without giving a warning. [/size][/blockquote]

[Tori Tori Chopper]

'Your friend seemed cool about it s-'
'Taroooooooo..~'

'No! Its not like he asked me to do it, I jus-'
'Yoooooou?!~'

'He just looked like he needed some attention, and I was aro-'
'Jerichooooo!~'

'Its not the ships fault, you butt!' Torin's hands had become a tangled mess in attempt to point at all suggested culprits of this questionable paint job. Uncoiling like an overdone wind up toy with his arms flailing in all directions before coming a wobbly and stable end at their original, naturally intended positions. The new female company seemed relatively stunned, maybe not expecting a crazed mad man to come about looking for trouble, Torin's speciality sadly enough. With all said and done in the insanity department, for now at least.. Torin turned back to the victim of this currently untitled crime of yet to be decided nature and degree. 'It looks.. Interesting?' Despite the threat of her maybe being stabbed or bludgeoned by the shovel that rested on the diggers back, she edged around her dropped tools and towards the Captain, leaning in close beside him with a wide eyed stare over her work. 'He's really happy, the colour choice was a given, as for the structure..' Torin turned to her, who was at the same moment an inch from his face with a smile to match her relatively ecstatic expression, stumbling back and nearly falling in the process with his arms up in defence of come what may. 'Y-You spoke to my ship?'

'Its more Jericho spoke to me, vibes.' She tried to express what these vibes were through wiggly arm motions close to her chest, it seemed the placement of fear over one another's actions had made a switch-er-roo somewhere within the last ten seconds. 'So its happy.. To be bright orange.' Kind of a silly question to ask, considering her other decal work involved making the turtle vessel look like it was about to explode with laughter. 'And that Grin..' She looked to place he was pointing, a bit of confusion on her expression as she titled her head from side to side. 'I didn't do that..' So the ship had magically started smiling by itself?! What witchcraft had befallen them upon docking at this isla- 'I'm messin' with you, course I did it, dooooi~' Torin had never wanted to push down a girl so badly, besides his sister maybe.. Imuka? He probably wouldn't survive the attempt now that he thought about it. 'What's got you randomly sprucing up peoples transport? You don't seem the type to slot into island-wide reconstruction.' Her orange get up coupled with nearly to knee length hair, skirt and roller blade's made it hard to imagine his assessment would be taken as an insult.

'Its cute, right? The blades help with getting around this place too.' Was she just taking pieces of his conversation to answer that suit her? 'Blades huh.. Straight forward design, sure.. Can't say I've seen them used before though.' She angled them from side to side, pushing herself closer to the ever inquisitive inventor. 'Be interesting to see what you could do with your feet slightly off the ground at all times, huh.' It got him scratching his chin, that's for sure.. Suddenly in realisation that he had slowly drifted from the fact that this crazy solo artist woman person had gone and made his ship near florescent. This issue still in need of addressing was apparently no longer the woman's concern, she'd vanished from his sight in the small moment he had zoned out, attempting to slowly shuffle her tower of items back up towards her upper body.

'S-So where are you going now?' Unaware that once again her tower of utensils and tools blocked her vision, she spun around on one heel to face Torin, only to be using boxes to speak for her once more. 'You've made it pretty clear, you don't want me painting up anything around these parts, let alone fixing.' No one said anything about fixing, but Torin hadn't really given the girl a chance to state her case after all. 'Wait, uuh. Girl? Lady person?'

'Peria.' She stopped in her tracks, letting her pile of goods fall to the floor once more, placing her hand on it gently to lean off it and stop it from collapsing on one side all in one fluid motion. She extended her spare hand, as if this whole time expecting the Captain to eventually crumple and ask for her aid, before he had even said a word on the matter. 'Nice to meet you..?' He rubbed his temple, extending his own spare hand to shake hers, it didn't take a genius to know and feel played, even in this smallest sense.. After all, he's usually the smartest in any company he's kept, a subject open to debate at any time. 'So I take it you know your way around the tools in that tower of.. Stuff.' She nodded, quickly looking to take each box off the one below it, and out on display. Her choice of tools was interesting, from the perfectionist designers perspective, bits 'n bobs of much more simplistic design, though then again this is from the mind of a guy who things a Hammer needs to be improved in effectiveness. 'I've got my own stuff on the ship, so I guess if with mish-mash our resources this should take half the time.' She nodded, rummaging about her belongings, not even questioning that she hadn't actually offered to help.

'You good with designs?' The question made her giggle, taking the drawing tool from her ear and spinning it around between her fingers on one hand, a content grin on her face. 'My speciality, naturally.' The Captain nodded, rubbing his hands together in thought now that he had made some progress on the reconstruction of his vessel. 'Right, I was thinking to make it more efficient for a smaller crew, like multi-tasking stations of levers and such.' Some strange spark fo enthusiasm covered his face, a smirk strong on one side. It had been a while since he could talk lingo with someone with them actually understanding. '.. You mean like, up and down things..' Maybe not so much on the lingo part. 'I'll get the plans, you can see what I mean.' kicking up off the ground to get a quick start on climbing the front of the ship out of impatience, he dangled to look back to Peria's random noises of attention. 'You didn't tell me your name, still.'

'Torin.'

'Right, I'm Peria.'

'.. You already told me that..'

'Felt cooler to say it like this.'
'.. Lets just get to work.'