Dance Number Two: The Railway Rhumba!

[EriChar]

A soft, rising stream of white climbing into the blue all around, the chimney of the train known as ‘Puffing Tom’ bellowed out fluffy smoke as it earnestly dragged its passengers along the sea; riding along the ocean’s surface on rails hidden by the water. It was a crisp, clear day, with only the trailing plume from the sky being the ‘guest’ in the sun’s landscape, and there was an unusual calm on the grand line waters; a great day for travelling. Absent were high waves or freak acts of weather that whipped up tornadoes and snowstorms, and not even plucky amphibians seemed to fancy their chances in delaying the engine in its charge. Whistling cheerfully in response to the idyllic scene around, ‘Tom’ himself seemed to be in high spirits as he tore across the seas; the journey of an hour between the spring queen’s town and the city of water looking like it would take the happy steam engine several minutes less, which was no doubt a joy for the passengers peeking out of its windows. Glass panes filled with smiling faces, the shapes of children seemed to look out through the clear skies and seas toward sights in the distance; gulls and other sea birds diving for prey and galleon sized dolphins arcing out of the water every now and then only to lurch back in with a fierce splash. School out for summer, for those on their way for a break in the warmth, this seemed like an excellent prologue for adventure, even for those who had left school long ago.

I wonder if I could ride one of those dolphins? Eyes cast out over the landscape that stretched for as far as any eye could see with sapphire coloured water, as one of the gigantic cetaceans threw itself under the blanket of blue jewels, the young woman known as Samba Deflor couldn’t help but feel she’d like to see what such an action was like for herself; a wondering whimsy that suddenly left her feeling a little bit sad inside. For several minutes she had sat in a sombre silence after her new friend had fully informed her of the part of her ‘being’ which she had always assumed a curse, but never knew the nature of. While the train was fairly busy, because they had arrived early, they had managed to secure seating together, a small table separating the two of them, and the politeness of other passengers preventing Samba’s unfortunately heated nature from searing any who tried to sit next to her. Clothing changed since her day in Saint Poplar, the various scrapes that she now had bandages on had done no small amount of damage to her bikini and sarong, so now she sported a free flowing summer dress of similar tone; decorated with a pattern of small white spots. Much of the damage she had suffered in the night before had been superficial, and was hidden away beneath the cotton of her clothing, with only a few bandage wraps around her arms now visible. The girl would have looked rather refreshed if not for the expression of unhappiness which she now wore.

Probably not with this curse; the Devils Sea Curse… Samba’s shoulders sagging and a small sigh escaping her lips, the dancing girl looked far from the happy spirit who had gotten on the train; a distant memory from the belle who decorated the Carnivalan Parade in the past. While the woman she travelled with had clearly spelled out what she had always thought to be a curse; devil fruit abilities, her description had also seemed to speak clearly of the permanent nature of the change she had undergone, a simple truth that seemed to strip away any hope of eventually getting better.

“So, I’m going to be like this forever? It won’t wear off?” Expression thoroughly sullen, the girl felt a sting in her eyes and a small bead of water build in the corners of her eyes; surprising even herself in the sudden sadness that swept through her, Samba wiped her eyes to stop herself shedding more, her bottom lip wobbling a little as she ran over the details in her head.
“I’m going to be like this forever…?” Repeating the words sadly as she let them slowly sink into her mind, the corners of her eyes gathered yet another jewel that was ready to fall, her face turned back to the blue of the window as she mulled over what was to happen to her. While some part of the dark skinned girl had always known that this change, the curse she had suffered, was permanent there was another part that had always wanted it to wear off with time. Some curses were like that, in fairy tales and such, and so too had the girl hoped this would be the case.

[Vio]

Ffion van Pierre sat opposite her companion, Samba Deflor, in their cabin of the Sea Train. 'Puffing Tom' cruised across the water with outstanding speed and grace, superior to any standard vessel that crossed the waters, guided by rails that floated just beneath the waves. The mermaid had never seen anything quite like it and had acted like a child on the morn of Christmas before boarding. However, as the engine had begun to pace through the waves, the conversation between the doctor and the dancer took on a more serious tone.

"Once you eat a Devil Fruit, you gain amazing powers, but there are always side effects. All Devil Fruit 'users' share the same basic weakness, though... You'll never be able to swim naturally again." Despite having never met an actual Devil Fruit user until now, the vampire squid mermaid was fully aware of the basic properties of these mysterious morsels. For all her knowledge of medicine and 'magic', it was the supernatural cursed fruits that had enticed her most. While she would never dare eat one, she had spent a lot of time researching them; gathering whatever knowledge she could on the sometimes sensitive subject of their power. Now. Now she had one of these 'cursed' people sitting right in front of her, the woman whose dark skin radiated such an immense degree of heat. This was the power of the Atsu Atsu no Mi.

She looks sad... I can't imagine what kind of trouble her abilities have caused her. Reddish eyes examined Samba from across the cabin, wondering about what secrets her curse still held as the dancer, now clad in a mint summer dress, let out a sigh. Apparently depressed by the stark reality that had been thrust upon her, Miss Deflor's melancholy aura permeated the salty air; what was the scent of the sea now seemed like the odour of invisible tears.
She didn't even know where her power came from. How many Devil Fruit users become so without knowledge? Despite her travelling companion's change of clothes, Miss van Pierre had little change in the way she dressed, retaining her striped tube top and the 'bow' atop her head; fleshy membranes inherited from her nature as a vampire squid.

"So, I'm going to be like this forever? It won't wear off?" As if attempting to postpone the inevitable, the Carnivalan wore a sadness upon her otherwise radiant face, the traces of real tears now forming in the corners of her eyes. Ffion herself, rather empathic by nature, felt almost as intense a wave of depression flow through her body as Samba did. Stifling the negative emotion, the six-legged girl paused a moment, staring out of the window and towards the endless blue of sea and sky, broken only by the white plumes of smoke that erupted from the chimney of 'Tom' as he puffed along.

"Not if I can help it!" Piping up quite suddenly, the 'alchemist' straightened up in her seat. This sudden outburst was, in a sense, intended to keep herself from bursting into tears at the plight of her cabin partner. Pink eyes that had nearly been flooded by tears of sorrow brightened up, ignited by her ultimate dream.
"Samba. There's no need to be sad about it. Fififi~" Laughing softly, a determined smile grew upon the fair and freckled face of 'Fifi' as her eyes looked into Samba's own emerald hues.
"Do you know why? Because I am going to find a way to cure you!" A usually soft voice was now filled with passionate resolve, every spoken word from the lips of the vampire squid mermaid was richly laced with positive emotions; like an all consuming inferno, the fires of determination purged the sadness from Miss van Pierre and, in all hopes, the despondent damsel who sat opposite.

~~~ Meanwhile... ~~~

Sitting alone, isolated in a smaller cabin near the front of Puffing Tom, a woman of short stature; almost childish in appearance. Looking no older than a thirteen year old, the doll of a girl sat with chocolate brown hair draped across her shoulders. Clad in a black long-sleeved top and white skinny jeans, Leanne Vandella sat with her head in her hands, elbows on thighs. Letting out a small sigh of disappointment, coupled with the twinge of frustration, the baby brunette stared out of the window of her cabin with hazel eyes.

Of all the people you could assign to this, they just had to choose me, didn't they? I didn't sign up for this to become some security guard. They could've at least put some marines here instead of me... Watching as the sleekness of a dolphin arced through the sea and sky with such majesty, the dainty 'Rising Wind' raised her head from her hands and stretched. An exaggerated yawn erupted from her lips, the cold dryness of boredom prevailing like an easterly gale.

[Deleted]

Sighing in boredom, an elegant blonde woman adorned with silky bride dress was staring at the man infront of her. Specialized in manipulation and robbery, she always find delight in robbing people, especially when the people are arrogant fat rich men or those who belongs to nobility or even greedy pirates and bounty hunters. The man next to her is an example of a perfect victim, he wore a perfect suit, sits like a noble man would, and talk with self appointed charisma and arrogance that it hurts her head. While deaf she was able to read the man lips to appear to be "listening" to him. She smiles in interest when he looks at her and replied in series of How wonderful! and As expected for a man of your standard! just to encourage his endless monologue. Making the man talk usually helped her to distract the man of her ulterior motive, which was to rob the man blind, but she usually allow her victim talk in the span of half hour at most. However, she is on a sea train, a six hours worth of distance for her travel, there is no way she could rob him now when they are just in the first hour of their trip and run away with the money without getting caught red handed. Furthermore, it was not as if she could reject the man as he immediately flirted with her, praising her beauty and elegance, she is no fool as to deny the presence of a soon-to-be-victim when presented on a silver platter infront of her. This man better worth at least ten thousand beri for her to stand six hours of his crap, although she could always led him to a hotel with an empty promise of pleasure and steal his well tailored suit and maybe shave him too and sell those hairy hair and beard to the local hairdressers. So for the next five hours or so she just had to flirt and keep him talking.

She jumped at the sudden bump behind her seat, she turned around to curiously find a pair of beautiful girls conversing about... something. Well its none of her business anyway. She looked back at the man in front of her and her eyes slightly twitched, she could particularly see the lecherous smile on his face as he looks at the two girls behind her. While it delight her not to be this dumbass center of attention, she needs to be his one and only interest, she needs money!

Leaning down, she folded her hands under her breasts, raising them up and highlighting her cleavage at the perverted man, and she added a cute pout to her next word, "Mister, are you ignoring me?"

The man immediately looks back at her and... is he slightly nosebleeding while looking at the cleavage? "Oh Olivia-chan~" she almost gag at his way of addressing her name, she should have given him a false name, "I would never ignore you~" She internally rolled her eyes, men....

[EriChar]

“A c-cure?” The tears that threatened to skim down her cheeks as the sadness struck her suddenly stopped by the bold declaration of the doctor, for a few seconds Samba blinked in shock as she stared at her friend; not yet having seen such zeal in the expression that the octopus-woman was giving her. Only friends for a few hours so far, while Miss Van Pierre had seemed nice, the dancer had figured her medically endowed partner for being more the cool and collected type; the sudden spurt of passion instilling a feeling of fiery feeling that Miss Deflor herself was afflicted with. While the doctor was clever and could be cautious and considering, apparently, there were times when she was also a hot blooded young woman with a cause. At least in Fifi’s case, the hotness in her blood was metaphorical, at least.

“Didn’t you say this was permanent, can it even be cured?” While she didn’t wish to throw water all over the fire that had suddenly sparked up in the soul of the vampire squid, Samba couldn’t help but show some scepticism toward the goal of the pink-haired woman; the conversation they had just been having being rather convincing of the permanency of the power. While some might have considered the abilities that the dark skinned beauty had been given a blessing, as far as the girl herself was concerned they were a curse, and one she would prefer to be rid of. Deep down, all the Carnivalan wanted to be was a relatively normal girl, or at the very least, able to display friendship and affection toward others without scarring them for life. Of course she would hope for a cure for this affliction; it was the one thing in the world she wanted the most, but could it be done? The side of the dancer that was negative said no, and yet there was a part of this dancer that wanted to believe. It was an odd sight to behold, the sudden sense of determination and dedication that the mermaid showed, but at the same time, it seemed to instil within the blonde a shared passion; like this was something that regardless of hell or high water, this girl would see through to the end.

“I-I sure hope you can do it…” Heart beginning to flutter at the prospect of being rid of her pesky power, Miss Deflor felt the feelings of doubt sink away as she daydreamed of being a ‘normal girl’; her mind seeing her giving the mermaid in front of her face the biggest and longest hug she could once the cooking issue wasn’t a problem.
I’d really like to hug my friends… Tears threatening to run across the dark blanket of the beautiful mocha skin once more, the heated young woman thought back to all the times that she had wanted to throw her arms around people and stopped herself, craving the day when she didn’t need to be denied by this mental roadblock.

“N-Not just for my sake; imagine, the girl who cured the fruit users?” Hope renewed by the zeal of her colleague, it suddenly dawned on the dancer just how incredible her friend may be; while their battle alliance had shown this woman a capable medic and fighter, it seemed there was more than two strings to the bow of Ffion van Pierre, and if plucked right they were the ideal ‘note’ for Samba’s dance.
“Hee hee, everyone will get to see just how brilliant you are!” A little bit awed by the new level of respect that she held her octopus legged friend in, the dark skinned blonde couldn’t help but feel a little redness in her cheeks; boasting proudly about Fifi as if she were a little sister or daughter, even though they’d only recently met, there was a strong connection building between them already.
I’ve made a great friend, it seems… While less than a day had passed since she had met this doctor, there was an unusual sense of kinship between them that only told the Carnivalan that this was a person she needed to hold onto at all cost, even if she couldn’t touch her without burning her; Miss Deflor was more and more determined not to let go of this travelling companion.

“So, do you wanna ‘cure’ fruit users because of your own affliction?” Entirely filled with curiousity about the girl with which she had formed her first friendship, as she nodded toward the pink mantle in place of legs that the beauty opposite her possessed, it was plain that the nature of Devil Fruits was not the only instance of ‘unusual design’ that this dancing bimbo was unaware of.
“Did a Devil Fruit give you your octopus legs as well?” While she’d heard tales of mermaids, she had no idea that they were so varied that one could be born to resemble a vampire squid on their lower half, and could only assume a common affliction between them. Little did Samba know that while the sea was her enemy, it was a great friend of Ffion van Pierre; the 'hammer' couldn’t compare in the water to the fastest swimmers in the world when it came to the ocean...

[Vio]

"A c-cure?" This was, for several seconds, the only response that Samba Deflor gave to her six-legged companion. Ffion van Pierre, determination now subsiding somewhat to prevent too much exertion of energy, maintained her smile as she attempted to comfort the dancing girl.
"Yes, a cure," Confirmation of her claim backing up her bold statement, the vampire squid mermaid watched as the blonde's richly tanned facial features were painted with awe. For all her calm and gentle mannerisms, the doctor's dreaming heart still burned with the passionate flames of naivete. To most Devil Fruit users, obtaining their power was a blessing; sacrificing the ability to swim was a small price to pay for such strength. However, in the case of the Carnivalan, her 'blessing' was as much more of a curse as the inability to swim ever could be.

"Didn't you say this was permanent, can it even be cured?" A moment of questioning arose in the voice of the woman in mint, a side of her clearly doubting the prospect of being able to 'lift' the curse of the Devil's Fruit.
Can it even be cured? I believe it can, I just need to find the way. Never had the aspiring 'alchemist' questioned her own beliefs, and she was not about to do so, either. In the depths of her very being she knew her answer, one that had been with her since she had first decided upon her goals. Doctors the world over treated people for injuries and ailments that they knew of, but there was always so much more that the world had to offer; positively and negatively. Even if there was no known cure, Miss van Pierre had her mind set upon discovering it. It was her Philosopher's Stone.
"Fififi~ Where there's a will, there's a way!" Assuring words accompanied her giggle of confidence, further reinforcing the foundations of the unusual relationship between mermaid and human. There was little to say that this was not a match made in heaven; the dancer, cursed as a child by the power of the Fruit of the Devil, and the doctor, destined to discover a way to cleanse the curse.

She really thinks I can do it! Excitement welling up inside of her like molten rock raring the erupt from the earth, Miss van Pierre enjoyed the sensation of fiery determination. Fuelled by the words of her fire-skinned friend, the vampire squid mermaid's heart was now set upon standing beside this femme in her times of need; an unspoken pact that was practically solidified between the two youthful beauties.
"So, do you wanna 'cure' fruit users because of your own affliction?" A gentle motion of the head hinted towards the 'skirt' of rose red flesh that linked together the sextet of suckered limbs. Certainly mermaids were well known for their tails, but for the freckled femme a singular fish tail was replaced by something far more monstrous and difficult to define in any other way. An interesting point to make about her history at Sabaody was that the auctioneers could not accurately decide on whether she was considered to have a 'split' tail or not.
"Fiii?" Head tilting to the side, tails of rich pink hair flopped down from her shoulders as Ffion looked questioningly into the emerald eyes of her companion.

"Did a Devil Fruit give you your octopus legs as well?" In a display of naivete that could perhaps only be matched by the optimistic mermaid herself, Deflor, still not entirely sure of the workings of the wide world out yonder, made a plausible mistake. There were existing Devil Fruits that allowed their 'user' to switch between their usual form and the form of an animal; even attaining states between the two.
"Oh? No, no! Fififi~" A soft and friendly chuckle at the innocent belief of her peppery partner, the medicine girl accompanied her response with a gentle shake of the head. It seemed that further explanation was needed.
"I'm not a Devil Fruit user, Samba. I'm a mermaid. A vampire squid mermaid, too!" Repositioning the muscular limbs into a more comfortable position, drawing them together so that they met in the vague appearance of a single 'tail', Ffion van Pierre was very much open as to her heritage. Of course, this fact would come back to bite her in future, just as it had already done in the past.

~~~~~

I bet the others are off having all the fun right now, but I'm stuck here! Lips pouting as she folded her arms, the petite girl, confined to the serene silence of a first class cabin, rolled her hazel hues. Now standing at the desk, the splendid stature of Leanne Vandella was now on display to the emptiness of the room, all one hundred and twenty seven centimetres of it. Sat upon the desk, the small figure of a Den Den Mushi; a rich red body with a shell of black and white.

Bu-ru Bu-ru Bu-ru Bu-ru...

Bu-ru Bu-ru Bu-ru Bu- *Click*

"Morning! Or evening, whichever it is where you are right now." A deep and intellectual, yet somewhat teasing voice emerged from the otherwise minute maw of the Den Den Mushi, the eyes of the transponder snail staring upon the dainty damsel that stood before it. Rolling her own hazels once again, the 'child' leaned forward somewhat, staring into the beady stalks of the living phone.
"Cut it, Tramontane! I don't need your wise-cracks!" Agitated by the current lack of 'excitement' and indeed further by the antics of the mysterious male who went by the name of 'Tramontane', Miss Vandella's patience was wearing far thinner than usual. Her brows furrowed as she gritted her teeth, stifling the aggravation that built up inside her like the pressurised steam of 'Puffing Tom' himself.
"Easy now, Levante, I'm still waiting on the 'bosses' to sort out the bounty of my new mark. Looks pretty pathetic in comparison to some of the big names, though. Not even close to ten million." Clearly disappointed by the fact that his own 'prey' had only a pitifully small bounty on their head, Tramontane allowed the silence to suffocate the air for several seconds, allowing time to idle by for both himself and his frustrated associate, Levante.

[Deleted]

How long can a man talk? Better yet, how long can she last smiling like this to the idiot infront of her. For one thing, all he talk about is his business, the business he proudly bragged had developed and thrived by having low wages workers or even slaves work endlessly, he did not mentioned if there are any victims, though she doubt he cares if there is any. While Olivia likes the idea of money and what it provides to her life, she hates its existence even more, it was money that turn people into devils and demons. Despite her inner turmoil she gave an amuse laugh when the man made a sad attempt of a joke, “Oh monsieur, you are too much~” add a giggle there and she could literally see hearts popping out of the man pupils, oh he fell for sure, he fell so hard.

Feeling tired of speaking out responses to his nonsense she began to flutter her eyelashes, “You have such a fine suit,” she teases with a voice of delight, "Your business must be so incredible for you to afford such a thing. Unfortunately, I have no education background, y'know being a woman and all, could you explain to me more about it?” Ugh, she hates acting like an idiot but if this mean that the man will be repeating exactly what he said half an hour ago with greater detail, all she had to do was nod to every single lips pause he made. And there he goes, wow, this man really love to talk about his businesses.

Ignoring the movement of the man lips she began moving her eyes away from the man, she unconsciously read the lips of the girls sitting behind her, bits and pieces really since she's suppose to be listening to the man in front of her, though the man was too busy talking to notice her slight disinterest. Now that is a conversation that prick her interest. Are they trying to “cure” those with devil fruits? Though she doubt all those who eats the devil fruits want this “cure”, devil fruit after all not only give people freaky power but the ability to heal faster than others. However, such discovery will defeats even the creations made by great Doctor Vegapunk, and from the gossips of her previous client and victims, is the greatest inventor in Grandline and the New World. While she has little knowledge of chemistry or medicines, she has great interest to the biological effect a devil fruit cure would do to a body. Well honestly her dream is technically so much more unbelievable than a devil fruit cure, but if she could find it then it could be the first step to her dream. If she could find the biological secret of how devil fruits could turn people solid body into elemental weapon and reverse the effect, then there is nothing stopping her to find a way to manipulate people body from death to life.

Also, one of the girl behind her need to lay low about her identity as a mermaid, there are racism in this train, including the man in front of her, she could see him leer at the mermaid in mock lust. Olivia narrowed her eyes, while she had no personal opinion about fishpeople she hates when people around her treats them as “the other” or even worse, high-quality slaves. This man better not be telling his servant, who is sitting nearby, another reason why she couldn't knock the idiot right away, to capture the mermaid behind her to be his slave. If he did then she's going to knock him out right now, rob him blind, shave him nude and display him without a stitch and unconscious in front of the train station, she will leave the authority to imprisoned him for exhibitionism.

[EriChar]

Engine ploughing through the waves like a stallion, from the narrow glass visor, a set of eyes peered out toward the tracks stretching out in front of him; breakfast of bacon and eggs cooked over the roaring fire of the machine known as ‘Puffing Tom’ settling warmly within the pilots pot-belly as he looked to make sure the way was still clear.
What’s that? A lump that looked like a white hill covered in patches of moss climbing into the sky in front of him, for a second or two the driver blinked and then snatched up a set of binoculars; settling their lenses on the shape that was quickly growing in size in front of them.
It can’t be a sea king, the tracks scare them off… Brow furrowing as the man’s jaw clenched, his hands twisted the optics as he tried to make out exactly what he was looking at. Along the back of the growing mound seemed to run a Mohawk of the lightest sea green tone, and from one end, it seemed like someone had shoved a pair of horns to poke out from either side.

“It’s a… SEA COW!” His jaw dropping as the features filled themselves and made the shape of those massive mammalian beasts that roamed around the mid-point of the grand line, as the train grew closer and the huge monster of the sea began to dwarf the train approaching her, the driver’s jaw dropped and he fumbled over to a lever on a train.
“SEA COW ON THE LINE!” Dragging the long shaft downward with all his might, the railway runner knew that regardless of the pace they were moving, a meeting with this massive frame was likely to make them the loser; it was practically an immovable force, and while Puffing Tom was strong, he was certainly no unstoppable object. The sudden sharp stop would not be comfortable, but it would be a lot more so than a crash…

-~-~-~-

“A mermaid?” Eyes darting back and forth between the upper and lower halves of her friend, it slowly dawned on Samba Deflor that there might be a whole lot of truth in the words that Fifi had said; she certainly seemed to fit the ‘bill’ of the legendary mermaid a lot better than the little the blonde knew of Devils Fruit.
“Wait a sec, aren’t mermaids half fish?” Recalling the tales she had overheard from the seamen that stopped by carnival, more than a few times people had said some of the dancers rivalled the ‘Mermaids of Fishman Island’ in their beauty, though the older women had always told Samba it was just sweet talk. From the rumours, a mermaid was one of the most beautiful things in the world; a gorgeous woman with grace in the water that not even a flying fish could match, and a fishy tail to boot. Ffion Van Pierre was certainly good looking enough to fit that bill; Samba’s eyes not having missed the ample proportions and delicate features she possessed, even if she wasn’t into her in ‘that kind of way’, though the lower body didn’t quite match up.

“So, they can have all sorts of lower bodies, huh?” Once again her focus turning to fascination, unlike the evening before below the decks, this time Samba managed to resist the urge to drop to the floor and poke and prod the skirt-like mantle; perhaps trying to avoid creating a scene and embarrassment for them both. It was very interesting though, and all too soon the girl was giggling as her head filled with images of all sorts of women with strange appendages in place of their lower limbs.
“Do crab mermaids run around sideways? Or- WHOA!” Curiosity wanting to have its way, while the dancing girl would have liked to learn all about the nature of mermaids, current circumstance denied her this pleasure; her frame flung forward with considerable force that seemed to rock every seat around them. The harsh, sudden brakes of the sea train making everyone within the cabins fall toward the front of the train, Miss Deflor’s hair flowed wildly as her body was cast toward that of her new friend; soon making an unintentional but all too familiar ‘glomp’ with the mermaid who sat opposite her, and feeling the world spin around her head. Keenly aware of the contact she had made, even with her the world around her still dancing, the Carnivalan panicked at the prospect of burning the educated woman and flailed her way off the fellow femme’s body, falling to the floor between the rows of seating, and feeling the wounds of the earlier day sting with pain.

“S-Sorry about that, Fifi…” Her body aching from wounds that she had accrued, and the swirling world around her, Samba Deflor flopped around on the floor to try and regain her footing; far more concerned with her friend’s safety than her own…

[Vio]

"A mermaid? Wait a sec, aren't mermaids half fish?" As the emerald hues of Samba Deflor's eyes examined the alternate halves of her body, she presented a perfectly understandable question to Ffion van Pierre. For those who had never been to fishman island, the mermaid was a mysterious entity; well known by name and appearance across the world, yet simultaneously dismissed as folklore by many. While the blonde was correct in her statement, there was more to the likes of merpeople than she could have possibly known.
"Merpeople and fishpeople are half sea creature, not just fish. But humans don't see us very often." Educating the less knowledgeable female, 'Fifi' had no doubt been very helpful to Miss Deflor since their first meeting in the dull depths of the 'party' ship the previous night. Both girls had their gifts; while the vampire squid mermaid was a practitioner of medicine, in stark contrast to the fiery danced, she lacked the energy of the dark skinned Carnivalan.

I must be strange to her in so many ways. It's a shame that humans and fish people are distanced. There should be more humans like Samba is the world. One of the most painful things that plagued the mind of Miss van Pierre was the grim reality that humans and fish people were separated. If not for past events, if not for the abysmal treatment of her kinsfolk by the more prominent members of human society, then perhaps the two races would be leaving in harmony. A second dream of the medicine girl was to heal the festering wound that divided the two groups of people; one day, Ffion van Pierre would bring peace and happiness.
"So, they can have all sorts of lower bodies, huh? Do crab mermaids run around sideways? Or- WHOA!" Perfectly honest questioning was rudely interrupted as 'Puffing Tom', the sea train cruising across the underwater railings, jarred to a halt. Feeling her body judder from the sudden change in velocity, the six-legged squid girl was pressed into her seat; suckered tentacles fanned out again, anchoring to the floor to help stabilise the unexpected alteration in her body's general momentum.

"S-Sorry about that, Fifi..." Expressing concern for the safety of her own companion; it was fortunate that, of the brief contact they shared, the heated flesh of the woman in mint had failed to do any serious harm to the lighter skin of the mermaid medic. Ffion had felt the fiery heat, her body wincing, receptors telling her that she needed to avoid prolonged contact with the searing body of her ally.
"Th-that's okay, Samba. No harm done! Fififi~ Are you alright?" Laughing it off, the 'alchemist' examined the contact areas for any signs of burn damage. Aside from a little redness, there was no damage upon the pristine skin of the pink-haired femme. Outside, the screeching of the train's wheels could be heard, muffled to some extent by the gentle waves of the endless blue.
"Why did the train stop? Are we at Water Seven already?" A freckled face peering down the aisle of the train car, Miss van Pierre observed the other passengers. Some had, like Samba, been tossed from their seats, but everyone seemed to be without injury, much to the delight of the doctor. Holding out a hand to the flopping femme, she looked out of the window; endless sea and sky as far as the eye could see, not a single trace of an island visible upon the clear blue.

~~~~~

"So, any news on the others? Where are you?" Questioning her comrade, Levante calmed her nerves with a deep intake of breathe as she awaited the response of the intellectual. The 'Rising Devil' as she had once been known, knew from experience how difficult the man known as Tramontane was to talk to. Today was no exception.
"Eh? I here Libeccio's got himself a good mark; just hearsay though, something about mass homicide. Merchant vessel was found off the coast of some little island in the East Blue; whole crew was found dead." A momentary pause allowed Levante to consider what kind of monster would wipe out a whole crew, though she was unaware of the fact that her jester of a compatriot had left out the details of the size of said merchant ship.
"Yeah, anyway. I'm on my way to Port West, stopping off at Bravo Bravissimo for a bit first-" The sudden screeching of train wheels permeated the conversation, interrupting the mysterious man in mid sentence. Meanwhile, Leanne Vandella found her petite frame thrown across the private cabin as 'Puffing Tom' decided to make an unexpected stop in the middle of the open sea. Her crumpled form scrambled back onto its feet once the train came to a rest, chocolate hair messed up and hazel eyes ablaze with aggravation once more.

"Levante? What happened?" Levante, picking herself up, stomped back to the Den Den Mushi, slamming an open palm down on the little desk.
"What kind of Sea Train driver brakes in the middle of nowhere!" Levels of agitation rising in her voice, the brunette 'baby' brushed her long hair out of her eyes with her fingers, looking out to sea in the assumption that the reason for the sudden interruption of the journey would be presently in view.
"You wanted some action, didn't you? They'll probably need someone to clear the seaweed off the line." Mocking her enthusiasm for a piece of the 'action' that her comrades always seemed to get, the deep voice on the other end of the transponder snail joked about; always one to tease his partners, Tramontane certainly knew how to get on the nerves of Levante.
"Oh, just shut your trap!" The notable 'click' of the Den Den Mushi signalled the end of this rather peculiar conversation. Inside herself, a degree of excitement sparked; whatever the reason for this sudden stop, it was probably not a good one in the eyes of the passengers of Puffing Tom.

[Deleted]

Olivia winced a bit when the man took note of her disinterest. Whoops, she needs to say something, though the man doesn't look too upset, but she can't let him know that she's obviously uninterested to what he is saying. Well, one thing to do, play a helpless maiden, "I apologize good sir, but I was just a bit lightheaded in this stuffy compartment," add a little flutter of eyelashes and tug her upper dress a bit, revealing more of her cleavage and there you go, he took the bait. She raised her eyebrow a bit, does he have to obviously stare at her breasts that openly? If he is not her target she has all right to slap him silly for sexual harassment and no one will say anything against it even with the man obvious presentation of nobility. She is after all a bride, or at least one wearing the dress of one, the personification of purity, so for her to stay pure until the particular dress was taken off is entirely excusable. Well, unless of course if the man is a tenryuubito then she could get rape and shot in public and the man could get away with it, though she is damn sure he is not one, if he was then he would've bragged about it in the first five minutes of his monologue.

Then the man began to move forward. Uh oh, what is he doing? Is he taking her gesture as an invitation? Well its not! And they are in public! What is the man trying to do? Oh no, he's closing his eyes and… puckering his lips?! Her eyes widen in horror, oh no he's not! What to do? Push him? Rejection will insult and drive him away, which made it so much harder for her to rob him later. But accepting his kiss will not be an ideal situation either! She backed away and the man kept on moving forward. Can this man see how uncomfortable she is with his gesture? Her back touched the glass window behind her and she internally cursed at the close space around her. Her face was one of horrification as the man grow closer and closer and their lips are just few inches apart that she thought of knocking the man out, kissing this man is not worth even a ten thousand beri, unless if the man give her one million beri that is.

Before she could even knock him out or even let him kiss her and find a way to get one million beri from him, the sea train came to a sudden stop. She gave a loud cry as she fell to the ground while pressing against the wall behind her for support. With a delight satisfaction the man in front of her jolted to the side and slammed the side of his face to the seat in front of them and fell down to her lap unconscious. She looked at the man's servant and saw him falling forward and holding onto the seat in front of him for support, she shoved the man to the ground while the servant is not paying attention to her action.

While she is grateful that the sudden stop had saved her from the disgusting kiss, she does wonder what is going on? She slowly stood up and looked around to notice how everyone faces are filled with confusion, worry and even fear. The fear is understandable since they're in the middle of a vast grand line ocean, if a pirate ship appear out of no where they all will be sitting ducks. Sitting down cautiously and palming the window for support she warily look around to read what everyone are saying, most are just a series of 'What's going on?' 'What is happening?' 'Is it robbery?' 'Why is it stopping?' and so on. So basically more questions and paranoia than answers and that does not help her nerve at all. She needs to know whats going on!

[EriChar]

“It doesn’t look like a train station…” Pulling herself back to her feet, the dark frame of Samba Deflor leant forward and closer to the windows of her cabin, staring out into the blue sea that in the minutes before she had been admiring, without a soul or structure in sight.
“Could the train have broken down?” A crease in her brow as she strained to understand the scenario, the Dancer shuffled onto her knees and pressed her body against the glass, her head turned toward the front of the train to try and see if she could see what was happening with the engine. A line of metal and glass leading out in front of her, as the hot skin of the woman warmed the glass it was firmly pressed against, she could see that in the distance there seemed to be something in front of the train; presumably an obstruction that they had stopped so suddenly to avoid?

“Looks kind of like a patchwork hill…” The irregular shapes of green and white wrapping the mound that blocked off the train’s route, Samba thought it looked as if someone had sewn together whatever sheeting they could find and stuffed it with marshmallows and dumped it on the rails.
I guess a train can only go where it’s rails lead it… Straining to make out more detail on the lump laden on their course, Miss Deflor considered that it was perhaps time for herself to take forms of transport with a little more ‘freedom’; the sea train had served as a fast and effective way of getting around for the last few islands, but now the girl realized that her ‘grand adventure’ would be rather limited if this was the only way she travelled. An ocean covered world like this needed a ship to sail her, and as good as Puffing Tom was, he was no substitute for the freedom that a flag and sails offered; a little of her unknown father’s blood rearing its head in her contemplation as she let her mind wander to exotic horizons and unknown islands, apparently it wasn’t just blonde curls that she had inherited from him, but also a longing for the romance of exploration.

“There’s a ship!”

“What, is it pirates?”

“Maybe… No, there’s no crossbones, just a red flag?”

The line of thought that the blonde quietly mulled over broken by voices behind her, the girl turned to see worried faces looking through the window on the other side of the craft; the shape of a large battleship lurching into view next to the halted train.
“W-What’s going on? Are they here to help?” Rather confused by this turn of events Samba slid off the seating on which she knelt and moved closer, trying to make out details on this craft now, letting the matter of the ‘patchwork hill’ slip from her mind.
Pirates usually have black flags, don’t they? The free city of Carnivala welcoming any peaceful walk of life, even since she was a young girl, the dancer had been accustomed to seeing the odd set off sails with a black square whirling around their peak, however; this ship was different. Built for battle and without any of the mismatched charm that the vessels of sea dogs possessed, it seemed more like that of a military vessel, but as far as the young woman knew the Marines favoured blue and white over plain red.

“Do not panic, citizens!” A high tone of attempted authority and discipline barking up from the cabin, other bodies seemed to have joined Samba’s in standing in the aisle, each of them now bearing arms; rifles and swords drawn, people wearing flowery shirts and shorts stood in the rigid posture of soldiers, with their leader apparently looking to take charge of the situation.

“Huh, who are you guys?” Skin beginning to crawl at the sight of their weaponry, the shoulders of the blonde began to tense up as she saw these armed men asking for peace, the young woman instinctively readying herself for a fight even as she queried these men who tried to enforce calm on their group.
It’s pretty rich to ask others not to panic with guns in your hands. Frowning at their use of aggressive tactics against innocents, Samba scanned the worried looks of the holidays makers and forced herself not to get too aggressive; a stray shot or attack might hurt the wrong person.

“We, both the men on the ship and ourselves, represent the Revolutionary Army.” Chirping up to answer her question, the lead ‘officer’ seemed to beam with pride when he announced his affiliation; his chest puffed out and head high, regardless of the wicked tactics they seemed to be using, this man was definitely proud of himself.
“We have no quarrel with the civilians on board, but government forces are smuggling objects that need to see public light.” Adjusting a pair of glasses on his eyes that caught the light, while this man wanted to be seen as a soldier, all that Samba could see was a secretary; he practically screamed ‘mid-boss’ with his put on attempt at bearing.
“Our leader is approaching in his battleship, and asks for patience in this matter…”

[Vio]

Within the carriage of the now stationary sea train, the assortment of passengers discussed and questioned the unexpected stop; men and women and children from all walks of life looked to each other, then out into the blue beyond. Many had taken the journey between islands on numerous occasions, some for work or some just for leisure time, and it was these people who knew full well that Water Seven was still a ways off. For now, the occupants of Puffing Tom had to watch and wait, though not necessarily in silence. The likes of Samba Deflor, the fiery skinned companion of Ffion van Pierre, was now up on her feet, leaning to see out of the window of the cabin. The vampire squid mermaid listened as the dancer commented on what she could see; a mass that she could only describe as a "patchwork hill".

A patchwork hill? In the middle of the sea? Didn't they realise that was there when they built the track? Naive questioning was quickly interrupted by the troubled voices of her fellow passengers; Miss van Pierre altered her richly coloured pink gaze from her dark skinned friend to the opposing windows of the cabin. Beyond the glass panes that separated the innards of the iron serpent from the crisp salty air without, the eyes of the mermaid settled upon the immense form of a seafaring vessel. A ship far larger than any human ship she had witnessed before, the six-legged girl's dainty jaw dropped out of amazement at the sheer size of the craft is it crept into view.

"W-What’s going on? Are they here to help?" Observing the battleship with her own emerald eyes, Samba questioned the intent of the vessel's own passengers as the vampire squid mermaid failed to make out some of the finer details. Suffering from poor degrees of sight, 'Fifi' found it a lot harder to make out the features of the monstrous boat; eyes designed to provide her with impeccable vision in an environment that lacked natural light were ill suited to brilliance of the sunlit surface.
"Is it a pirate ship?" Tilting her head and upper body to try and get a better look at the vessel, the doctor-in-training's eyes strained and struggled to identify the red of the flag that billowed from the mast of the titanic transport. The glare of the mid morning sun upon the windows further impeded her vision, the fluttering fabric appearing to be no more than a dark silhouette of a flag.

"Do not panic, citizens!" Mere moments after the immense vessel sailed into view, several seemingly ordinary passengers stood up within the cabin. Armed with swords and rifles, the men had an air of military uniformity about them, despite being clad in what could be considered as casual clothing. Moving her eyes from the indeterminate flag to the source of the crisp and clear vocalisation, the aspiring 'alchemist' immediately focused upon the conspicuous armament.
They should put those away. I don't want to see anyone else get hurt... Quietly considering the purpose of the weapons held by the 'men in shorts', the freckled femme listened intently as her Carnivalan company asked the obvious question as to their identity.
"We, both the men on the ship and ourselves, represent the Revolutionary Army." Standing straight and proud, the apparent leader of the small team made the announcement of his designation; the likes of the mermaid had never heard of such an army before. Revolutionary? The term meant nothing to the naive nurse at this moment in time.

"Excuse me," Standing up on her sextet of serpentine legs, Ffion made her pink presence known, hair flopping free of her shoulders as her muscular coils came into full view of the entire cabin. A skirt of deep pink, almost a blood red, stretched from her waistline and down to the floor of the carriage, smooth skin shimmering slightly. Each limb supported a good portion of her own body weight; it was even plausible for the damsel to stand on just four of the six cephalopodal limbs.
"What's a Revolutionary?" The stench of naivete washed through the air, the puzzled expression on the face of the vampire squid mermaid matched only by the look of sheer shock that spread across the face of the officer. The majority of the eyes in the cabin were now looking at the mermaid, many not comprehending the fact that this girl had never heard of the Revolutionary movement.

~~~~~

"A battleship? Ugh." Leaning out of the open window of her private cabin, the childish figure of Levante observed the hulking monstrosity that eased its way closer and closer to the immobile Puffing Tom. Turning her head, the petite woman spied the bulky intruder that was preventing the progress of her passage. Large and white, covered in blotches of seaweed green, the familiar façade of a Sea Cow lay across the lines. Moving such a beast was a difficult task, the World Government associate knew that from past experience; she knew it was much easier just to wait for the monster to move on, though that could take a while.

A red flag? Very few, if any, pirates use anything outside of a black flag. A ship that size could only belong to 'them'. I guess they were right, though; this is where my fun begins. Withdrawing back into her cabin, the agent retrieved her white coat, a key part of her uniform, from the coat rack. Sliding her arms into the leather jacket, the doll sized dame grinned in anticipation of the 'excitement' that she would be allowed to lay down upon the Revolutionary Army. Miss Vandella, known by the codename of 'Levante', was a mercenary by nature, formerly considered a threat to the World Government. Now, she was a 'puppet' to the powers that be, but that would not stand in the way of her having a good time; provided there were no Marines aboard the sea train, that is.

[Deleted]

Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of the battleship. While her body was in full alert she forced herself to relax in her sit. This is not the first time she is in the position against large number of threats, or at least she assume it will be a large number. She kept her eyes on the battleship, well, for one thing its not a pirate flag basing on the lack of jolly roger logo anywhere around the ship, but it doesn't make it less dangerous. And that is when she took notice of the red flag and her eyes narrowed, she knew that flag, Revolutionist... While she had stolen money and a small boat from a revolutionist a long time ago, she has no experience dealing with them as a group... and sober. Yes, the revolutionist last time was alone, drunk and stupid so easy prey. She sighed in frustration, so much for a relaxing trip, then glared at the unconscious man on the ground under her, at least she doesn't need to shut him up herself.

She looked up just in time to see men on the battleship, looking stiff and carrying too much weapon for her liking. She hated being trapped and that is exactly her situation, trapped. The man she assume was the leader began to speak "Do not panic, citizens!" Well isn't he sweet, giving them a little warning not to panic when that is exactly what everyone are feeling anyway, she was tempted to scream at him to get rid of the weapons if they don't want them to panic.

Then he continues, "We, both the men on the ship and ourselves, represent the Revolutionary Army. We have no quarrel with the civilians on board, but government forces are smuggling objects that need to see public light. Our leader is approaching in his battleship, and asks for patience in this matter…" She really want to roll her eyes, of course they are, anyone could guess who they are from their mark.

Cautiously looking at her surrounding to see possible hiding place if the situation ask for it, she was on time to see the loud girl who admitted herself as a mermaid look at the men with eyes full of curiosity and asked, "What's a Revolutionary?" Yeah, this is one of those moments that she wanted to do a face palm, but she had to remind herself, this girl is a mermaid so it may be excusable not to recognize the revolutionist army. She continued to look around and notice that most people are silent, either in disbelief on the question or trying not to wet themselves in fear, maybe both.

“So you don't know about the revolutionist,” she smiled at the mermaid, might as well make a conversation, they're not going anywhere and its not as if speaking to the girl will lead to any harm. Yes it might bring their attention to her but they are men and she met many men throughout her lives and they have one thing in common, big ego. So if she could find a way to play the nice girl and do exactly what they want then they will have no reason to harm her, though annoyance is a possible reaction they could give her. But since they're not telling the passengers to be quiet then there is no need to sit there like a statue, unless of course they might've said it and she had missed it, oh well.

She then gave an amused giggle, “Aren't you an amusing girl.” She honestly is, not only did she had the naivety of not knowing about an infamous group of people, she also had the guts to allow herself be the center of attention despite the obvious danger, although talking to her made herself the center of attention as well so she really had no right to complain about recklessness. Her eyes then drifted to the mermaid's blonde companion, she looked... uneasy. Its an ordinary reaction for a person to have in this situation, she's feeling uneasy and scared herself and would show such body language if not for her trained poker face. But this girl... she looked as if she's holding on to something, she wonder what that may be.

Her eyes widen in realization, weren't they talking about devil fruits moments ago, could this girl be... a devil fruit eater. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she stare carefully at the blonde girl. Trying to identify the ability she might have if she indeed a devil fruit user. If she is then the situation might get messy and everyone don't have the luxury of space to even hide, unless they count the ocean as their hiding space. She just hope this girl is not a logia user.

[EriChar]

Self-righteous; that was probably the best term that Samba Deflor could come up with to describe this bespectacled ‘revolutionary’, thought she also would have settled for ‘pompous’. Unlike her semi-aquatic companion, the dancer was at least a little in the know about the ‘Revolutionary Movement’, having visited enough islands since leaving her home to hear the murmurs and rumour about them in the back streets and bars.
“Anarchists, or freedom fighters, are the most common viewpoints…” Noting the stark divide between the opinions dependant on person and locale, from the blonde had overheard there was a great difference between the opinions that some had of these people. For many, the news of the Revolutionary Army’s ‘march’ was one of fear and worry; chaotic extremists that would descend on islands and governments and replace them in fierce coup’s. The arrival of the group had become a source of fear for the leaders of the land, like the bogeyman made into a military force. Others seemed to hold them in high esteem; warriors of virtue and freedom that would stand up for the common man, undeterred by the authority of tradition they fought. Samba herself had yet to make her mind up.

“Young ladies, our group represents the one true hope for equality and justice in the world…”

As the ‘leading man’ took off on a flight of wordplay that seemed like it had been rigorously indoctrinated into him, the dancer left him to chatter away like a monkey as she scanned the people around her; far more concerned with the worried faces in the cabin than any sort of ideal used as an excuse for warfare. Another lady having joining them, the blonde couldn’t help but feel a little awed by her beauty. In front of the dark skinned girl a slender blonde in a white dress seemed to have stepped up, with features so perfect that Samba herself felt a little envious of her good looks.
Is she on her way to a wedding, or her honeymoon? Noting the distinctive way in which the fellow blonde was dressed, Miss Deflor found her eyes peeking out their corners at the woman and wandering all over her form; eyeing her curiously as she tried to figure out her ‘story’. Not particularly much of a ‘people reader’, as the incident last night had proven, there was something about this white-wearing woman that implied she was no simple bride. There was a confidence about her, perhaps in the mild degree of haughtiness with which she had spoken to Ffion, which told the Carnivalan that this was someone destined to be something more than a simple housewife.

“…And that is why you can be assured that the safety of the innocents aboard this train is paramount among our concerns.”

Cheeks flushing a little as she realized that her eyes had been lingering a little too long on the woman in her wedding dress, the shyness that still crept into some of the dancer’s actions inflicted a spell of blushing upon her cheeks, and with a flutter of her eyelashes the girl returned her attentions to the train. While some of the expressions around her had been turned to boredom by the overblown monologue that the lead intruder had given, most seemed to retain the worried looks that they had before the uninspiring speech began, prompting the dancer to speak up for her group.
“That’s all well and good, saying you’re the champions of the people, but you’re also the ones with the guns here.” Neither sweet nor shy as she had usually shown, perhaps because the Carnivalan felt a little ‘responsible’ for not only Ffion but all the worried faces within the cabin, she found a boldness within her that usually only reared its head when dancing was involved.
“You go around calling yourself ‘just’ when you're bear your weapons in the face of innocents?” Speaking in a curt snarl, the irritation that Miss Deflor felt at the hypocrisy of their actions was laden in her words as she snapped at the soldiers without any real concern for the weapons they held. Samba was reckless and her abilities meant that she did a lot of damage, but only when provoked; she couldn’t stand the feeling of tension that these guys gave off. Offering people the choice between peace and their weaponry was no choice at all.

“How can you say that? Our actions are for the greater-“ Barking again, this time like an angry little terrier whose bone was being eyed by a bigger dog, the yelping words of the revolutionary were halted by the ham hand of a figure behind him; the presence of such a large and strong mitt seeming to send a shiver down the smaller man’s spine as he seemed to cower out of the way.

“It’s all right, Chuubosu; some people can’t appreciate a noble goal, is all.” The men with the weapons bracing, it was obvious that the real ‘leader’ of the rag-tag gang had arrived; the shadowy shape of a seven foot tall man stepping into the cabin with his legs bowed to accommodate the low ceiling.
“Good morning, everyone. I’m the leader of this operation, Commander Korika Tamaru…” While this ‘Chuubosu’ seemed reminiscent of a Terrier or Chihuahua, from the looks of his boss was far more fearsome. Pleasantries laid out to the crowd in a manner that practically had this physically dominant man screaming sarcasm at the top of his lungs, the leader was grizzled in such a way that one might be left wondering if anything pleasant had ever occurred in his life.
“I’m sure this isn’t how anyone saw there morning going, ha ha, but I guess them’s the breaks sometimes…” A permanent crease in his brow even when he forced a smile, from the looks of him he was born in a battlefield and had only recently managed to pull him out in middle age; looking to be in his forties and covered from head to toe in scars. Face a patchwork of breaks and stitches, hidden partially by a patchy beard and scrap of black cloth over his right eye, there was something piratical about this man and it seemed to imply he should have a peg leg, though his actual bearing seemed more in-tune with a hook-hand. How much of his left arm was missing probably couldn’t be told, but in its place seemed to be a monstrosity of metal. Cybernetics were attached to him that seemed to give off the occasional hiss like a snake, leading down to a claw that seemed to open and close as he spoke. Unlike the yelping ‘secretary’, this man was thoroughly imposing, and it was little wonder that the people in the train seemed to quiver as he spoke; his voice grumbling like distant thunder even as he made the scantest effort of reassurance.

“Now, listen up!” Barking, his voice booming through the ship like a drum and completely eclipsing any sound that surrounded, it appeared that their ‘pleasantries’ had ended, and even Samba winced at his words.
“We’re here for something that the government is using you guys as shields to hide away, and only that. That means, as long as you’re all good little boys and girls, you won’t be hurt. So sit quietly while we get this matter sorted, and we’ll have you on your way in no time...” Expectations laid out without any chance for recourse, as soon as the cabin had been told of the commander’s orders, he quickly bowled out of their rail-mounted room and almost knocked Samba from her feet in the process; marching with authority as he went on to lay his designs out in the next cab.

“Jeez, I'm pretty sure this is going to turn from bad to worse…” Muttering as the guardsmen of his forces stomped past her, the dancer now seated once more after she stumbled out of their leader’s way, Miss Deflor couldn’t help but feel their day was going to …

[Vio]

"Anarchists, or freedom fighters, are the most common viewpoints..." Clearly vocalising her opinion, Samba Deflor informed her companion of the 'basics' of the Revolutionary Army. A group who fought for what they saw as the right cause, though their methods were perhaps not always so noble. Regardless, Ffion van Pierre had never once heard of them, utterly unaware of their motivation or goals.
Freedom fighters? Considering what her blonde and curly associate had said, the vampire squid mermaid now wondered about the dreams and ideals of this so-called 'army', even as the bespectacled male began to spout off his indoctrinated attempt at explanation. In a sense, the six-legged girl shared a similar goal; she so desperately wanted to see the rift between her own people and the human race closed. It was a scar upon the world, a festering wound that she wanted to treat, but was currently unable to.

"So you don't know about the revolutionist," Speaking up, as if attempting to make conversation, the figure of a woman finally established herself to the likes of Ffion. Exceptionally beautiful, fairly skinned with attractive eyes of jade, the slender form of a woman in a flowing white dress was now the focus of the doctor's attentions. Irises of deep pink scanned the feminine image of purity that now stood before her, though the finer details of the blossoming bride were more difficult for the mermaid to detect. In the light of day, her vision was lacking; the two most prominent women looked striking similar, save for the obvious difference in dress and complexion.
She looks like Samba... Fiii~ Why do humans look so similar, sometimes? Puzzling over current events, the youthful cephalopod girl tilted her head as she examined the bride, her rich pink 'bow' flopping slightly. Oblivious to the current verbal conflict that now ensued between Revolutionary and Carnivalan, for a moment the fair flesh of the 'fish' girl took on the subtlest tint of curious blue. Photophores flickered softly, their eerie light barely notable in the illuminated environment of the steam train's cabin, as if attempting to shed some light on the current subject.

"Good morning, everyone. I’m the leader of this operation, Commander Korika Tamaru..." Another voice now present, the investigative mermaid was pulled back into the present, head turning to focus reddish eyes upon the source of the rough sound. Incredibly tall, even more so that the mermaid in water, the immense form of this 'commander' appeared to be rather grizzled, plastered in scars from head to toe. Observing every inch of this goliath, Ffion prioritised the stitches upon his face, a sense of guilt welling inside her from the suffering that she believed he must have gone through.
His arm is... Prosthetic? I wonder how he lost it? Eyes now brushing over the unusual limb, the 'alchemist' was quite curious about such technologies for the sake of medical science. Limb replacement; she knew that, unlike herself, humans were not able to regrow limbs to any degree. For a human, if a limb was lost, it was gone for good. That said, she had read about humans who had severed their own limbs to escape death; a brave sacrifice to make, for sure.

"Now, listen up!" From the more subtle and friendly tones, the voice of the gruff commander erupted like a volcano, the quiet mumbles and discussions of others within the cabin completely drowned out by the din. While the likes of her dancing companion winced, Miss van Pierre visibly shuddered, far more sensitive to the vibrations that tore through the air as the officer demanded attention.
"We’re here for something that the government is using you guys as shields to hide away, and only that. That means, as long as you’re all good little boys and girls, you won’t be hurt. So sit quietly while we get this matter sorted, and we’ll have you on your way in no time..." Barely a second passed before the commander advanced, forcing the standing women to retreat to the 'safety' of their seats. Gracefully sliding out of the path of the officer and his accompaniment, the vampire squid mermaid allowed herself to flop gently back into her seat opposite Samba. As the curlier blonde mumbled to herself, Ffion turned to look at the woman in white once more, a question on her mind that needed answering.
"Excuse me. Who are you, Miss?"

[Deleted]

Olivia gave an amused smile at both the blonde girl and the mermaid as they gave her the curious stare. She stared at the beautiful figure both ladies had on them, and those smooth skin are something she would love to touch and feel, professionally of course, she would not dare touch them inappropriately. It had been a while since she use her skill on the body of such lovely ladies, and it would be her first time using her skill on a mermaid, it would be a very exciting experience. If only they could be her preys, then she might have reasons to approach and touch them, but they look like decent people whom she has no business robbing. She raised her eyebrow slightly when the blonde girl had flush slightly and when both girls face the revolutionists once again, she was tempted to face the revolutionists to read what they're saying, but the expression, or should she say, the change of expressions the blonde girl is making is quite fascinating.

Her eyebrow raised when she read the cry of frustration and to her amusement, rebellion towards men she knew are behind her and carrying many weapons. She likes the spark in that girl eyes. While she suspect the girl have a devil power, she had a feeling its not something she could use easily to defeat the men or avoid their attack completely, seeing as she has many tension on her body, though she could also translate that as her way of challenging for a fight with the men, but she doubt the girl is that reckless, at least she hope she's not. She sighed, while its amusing to see the girls' reaction she also need to look back to the revolutionists to read what they are saying.

“...listen up!” Oh looks like she missed alot, a new man had taken charge of the situation and he looks very stern, not that she blame him, that bulk of metal on his missing limb must've been a killer to his nerve. Though she had a feeling his hollier-than-thou attitude may came as a package of being a leader of men carrying weapons. It made her wince at how his metal wires pierce into his skin and coil into his nerve like hungry worms, she hates the thought of the feeling anyone would have when those things attached into their body. Seeing the scars on his body she made a metal note that he might be one of those monsters who could handle pain like its nobody business. While she knew such monsters are everywhere in the sea of Grandline, it always made her shudder in fear at the danger such men pose towards her. Despite her expertise in people's nerve system she is still a human being and as fragile as a glass if she is in a position to fight face to face with men such as him.

She continues to read the words from the man, “We're here for something that the government is using you guys as shield to hide away,” rolling her eyes she mentally groan, Of course the government is using its people like pawns on a very big chess piece, whenever have they not, “...and only that. That means, as long as you're all good little boys and girls, you won't be hurt. So sit quietly while we get this matter sorted, and we'll have you on your way in no time...” Oh how sweet of him, she could just kiss him, note the sarcasm. She sighed in annoyance, and here she thought that she would have a smooth journey and a large cash in her pocket by the end of the day.

She watched as the men walked away and frown in distaste, she doesn't like this situation at all. While she knew that she could act as a good girl and let them do their business it doesn't mean that they will do exactly what they promised. Revolutionists are known for their unexpected actions afterall, so for all she knew they might kill all the passenger by the end of their mission no matter what they do. Since she was not facing the girls to read either of their lips and deep in her own thought she missed out the mermaid's question towards her.

Brushing her negative thought she faced the girls once again, now sitting, they're most interesting in this cramp compartment and she really need a distraction. She blinked when they are wearing expectant faces, oh whoops, did they say something to her? “Um...” well this is awkward, “Did you say something?”