The Diary of Jades

[Deleted]

(I wrote this in first person for the first session as it's a sort of preface to the upcoming part. Hopefully it's okay to write in this narrative format...)

Entry #1

So I'm really doing this huh?...Hehe. Seems like it's been forever since I had to write my thoughts like this. How long has it been now? About ten years? Longer? Hell if I know. Home seems so far and so long ago it's getting  kinda fuzzy in my head trying to piece all the memories together...But I swear it had to have been like what? At least five years I'd say. I know that without counting...the last two years, I spent some time in South Blue but before that. Shit. Why's it's  so hard to think this far back?..Oh I got it now! 

There was that time when I first got to Pirates' Market. The day that I set things right for myself. Those...what was their crew again? The Storecrust Pirates? Heh, I don't give a shit. I just remember slipping their Captain a nice drink, taking him out back and sticking that pistol right behind his thick, numb skull. I can still remember the bang from that bullet bouncing in his head. That's when it all happened wasn't it? When I paved forth the path to death and destruction with the blood and bones of my enemies...

Man those were the days when I could just strut around the town like a boss, stealing that one armed dwarf's giant trout, tripping those two cyborg twins, and beating the bartender at a week's long game of poker! Ah, Good times...But then all that had to go to shit didn't it? When those - what were they - merchants tried sailing off to North Blue? My god...If I could take one thing back...it would be that trip. That whole mess was the shit that set it off.

I find it kind of funny though. Two years ago, on that shore, I came here to Amino. And fast forward a bit? I'm still here; I can't believe it. What's changed? What have I done all this time? I mean sure there was the whole gang problem thing? Those  goddamn idiot Maelstroms and their goddamn idiot Captain, Kaiser. Oh god if I ever see that fool again? I will go ballistic on his blue scaly butt. Because I can take a hit from Tommy and sure the guy wanted to kill me. But when you got an entire gang surrounding you ready to go in guns blazing on your sorry ass, you can't help but blame the guys who started the damn thing. And who was their leader? Kaiser frickin Spine. That son of a bitch may have a bounty over twice as the one I have...But when I'm done with him, he can add it to mine. That fish bastard.

Ugh, but enough of old acquaintances...Or maybe not? I mean after all, not all the Maelstroms were bad...Like Sora...Geez it's not like I miss the guy. I'm just trying to write out my thoughts y'know? It's not like I wanted to thank the dude or something...Moving on though...But you know as much as I appreciate the guy it wasn't cool of him to disappear like that. Especially when he got me out of that hell hole...That place. That ship. That cell. He got me out. And I just really need to thank him one day.

This is my second to last page from the pile so I guess this concludes my first uhm chapter? Entry? What do you call it for this thing? Actually, why do I call this a diary? Couldn't it be a journal or a log? I mean did I write anything that doesn't seem like a journal or a log?...Hmm. Also why is it called Diary? Die reed? Die uh? Dye a reed? Die uh read? Like it has read in it so could it be that? I don't know...I'm being stupid...Hehe. I started this off with that question, how long has it been since I had to write my thoughts like this? I remember now. Nine years ago. I was thirteen at the time. And I remembered dad was worried about me...And yet I felt nothing. Just like now. Only worse. Because while I felt numb and empty inside as a kid, I at least had my dad to look after me...I wonder though? How would life have been if I did have a mother to raise me? Maybe...Just maybe...No...don't be stupid. She's dead now and that's all that matters. She's dead because of me. She brought me into this world and in exchange I took her out of it. Along with letting Dad die...some daughter I turned out to be.

It's just that...i wish I could tell them how I felt right now...what? What is this mushy crap I'm writing? What is wrong with me? I feel so broken and nothing's going right and everything's a mess and I just...hate myself. This isn't the kinda stuff I want other people seeing...like there's this guy over there looking at me I think? That piece of shit. Leave me alone with my emotions! They're mine for a reason! I DON'T NEED SOMEONE LOOKING OVER MY SHOULDER AND CRITICIZING ME FOR WHAT I COULDN'T STOP! I killed my mother, you happy?! ARE YOU HAPPY DIARY? HAHAHA! ARE YOU SATISFIED YET? AM I CRAAAAAZY ENOUGH FOR YOU, YOU PARCHMENT PILE OF PALAVER?!...

I need help...

Someone please...I'm so cold...and alone...Take me to a simpler place...Dad......

Mom...

Anyone...help me...

I'm losing my mind...I'm losing it, man...BUT AM I LOSING IT THOUGH? DID I EVER HAVE IT TO BEGIN WITH? AHAHAHA! AIN'T I A COMEDIAN OR WHAT?! HAHA...haha.........

...why do i feel dead inside.

[this is where Jades runs out of paper to write on in 'Sins of the Daughter']

---

(Grader's Note: This isn't exactly a flashback. It's more like Jades remembering the last day she spent on Pirates' Market.)

The morning started no differently from any other, with daylight flooding my tattered cotton sheets through the empty, glassless window frame. As usual, the filthy pigeons would fly in and land on whatever creaking, crackling board of wood made up the rest of my windowsill only to litter it with a spot of purity straight from their obscenity. Few minutes would pass until an occasional squeaking of lumber could be heard to the top of me; obviously the neighbors above stirring in their beds to the brightness of a new day. They were sloths, much like myself, only they were fit enough to rise up from their beer soaked mattresses to carry on with the day. I, however, merely lay there in silence with my thoughts trying to sort out the mess of ideas fluttering through the morbid void I dare called an imagination. Scheme after scheme only rolled through the tides of insanity that drove me. Could this be it, I thought at the time. Was my life, as sorry and pathetic as it was, going to be restricted permanently by this insufferable hole I called a home? Well, I wouldn't be at the bar of a casino remembering these days if I were, am I right?

The past in those days for me was nothing but a historical archive of boredom. Days went by with nothing but an occasional task to complete and a handful of beri as my compensation. The thrill of chaos didn't suit me there, the Pirates' Market. As the name suggests, it was the marketplace of pirates, as ironic as that sounded. Criminals, savages, brutes and no-gooders all congregated for a professional, civilized exchange of goods. Now if that didn't scream of fraudulent dignity, I don't know what does. A Pirate is a pirate! I don't buy from the vendors, I steal what I can take. Perhaps that's why I was so often tired of the mundane nature of it all. Perhaps those people were the reason I chose to search out for jobs entailing requirements of violence of the highest order. I was after all never the softie in those days. Murder? Sabotage? Assassination? There was never a shortage of odd jobs whose slots I couldn't fulfill. Yet, the boredom, it pursued me. 

As I rolled out of the paper thin sheets that consumed me and slammed my two delicate feet into the decrepit floorboards, a concoction formed right then and there. Just like any other day, to be honest. The process went a little something like this: a morning of exhaustion followed by the creaking of a lethargic neighbor and inevitably succeeded by some unfruitful plot that I would create in my dreams the night before. There was nothing unusual about it. Much like the day before, I'd go off in search of some errand to complete or perhaps sight see this putrid cesspool of 'crime' that the Navy despises so dearly. Honestly if their intellect was of any sufficient degree they would have seen by now that these so-called Pirates weren't the least bit threatening. In my mind, if you bought goods, you were not a pirate but a customer.

Anyways, after I rose up from the sunlit cotton creases I would typically move on to the restroom for some hygienic purposes before I dolled my pretty self up with the usual attire. To be frank, as perfectly impractical as they are, corsets are a nice fashion statement and I'm not just using that as justification to showcase my assets. My debatable shorts showed those off enough as it is. When I was through arguing with myself over which of the outfits I wanted to wear, it came to my attention that I was in possession of only a single set of clothing. Afterwards, a powder of white, a dash of dark and a sexy streak of scarlet were all essential components I donned to brighten up my day and liven up my face. The morning routine for any sensible woman was after all wake up, makeup, and shake up the town with some sprinkles of mayhem and a dash of destruction...I preferred pinchfuls of pain myself, to be honest. 

Strutting around the island, I crossed my shoulders against past friends and foes whom I came to be acquainted with over various violent occasions of the past. There was Earl Dooly from the wharf, the wotan pirate who had a disturbing craving for seafood that most of his friends, myself included, seldom chose to discuss about. We would occasionally arm wrestle for kicks but I would have to go easy on the guy and hand him a victory from time to time. Otherwise, he claimed, I'd be the next meal on his plate for dinner. On my right I passed Jenny and Jimmy Chillins, the two cyborg co-captains of the Double Dragon pirates. An odd pairing they were, twins cyborgs that were fraternal at birth but identical in augmentation. I could almost guess that their target areas for mechanical development were by no means an accident. Or perhaps it was from the daily beatings they'd give each other that eventually forced the metallic transition? Who knows and who cares really. And of course how could I forget about the lovable, adorable Captain 'Hangman' Barley? Well...no one could truly dash this fellow out of their memory. This freak of nature towered over most of the stores on the island with a height of thirty feet, impressive as we were sure he had no giant's blood in him. A shame though, my eyes would've enjoyed seeing some giant's blood spilled on the day I failed to kill him. And never a day went by when he failed to remind me of that failure. I hated Barley. Hated him then and hate him still.

About half an hour passed until I made my way to the port where dozens of overbearing ships flooded my view of the ocean, no pun intended. These hulking behemoths never failed to bore me. Wood. They were nothing more than oversized shapes of wood with fancy embellishments detracting from the purpose of it all. Transportation, people! If I wanted to liven a ship up, I'd know how to get it done like a true agent of madness would. Guns, cannons, traps you name 'em all. I'd empty out the food storages with ammunition, I'd stock up each knot of the ladder on the way to the crow's nest with a knife and pistol just for precautions and maybe even hide a bomb or two under every single one of the floorboards just in case I wanted to send my vessel to kingdom come. That's how you arm a ship, I thought. That was what I believed at the time what a true monster of a ship should strive to be at the shores of that marketplace. All I saw were pathetic, gold burdened, shitpiles undeniably proving the wasteful nature of humanity when it came to the cutting down of millions of trees. Those were not ships meant for any pirate I ever envisioned.

And so I sat there for a minute or two, pondering on society and its direction for the future. Was I wrong, I kept asking myself. Could it be that I was the one at fault here, who judged them so unfairly and with such extreme prejudice? Truly, truly I thought deep and hard at this matter to the point my veins bulged out from beneath my skin and the tightness of my face could be comparable to leather. The wind beneath me rose my intellect to stages higher than that of advanced enlightenment. I opened my eyes to the possibilities of the real world and was overwhelmed by what crossed me. So intense was my focus that this state of contemplation I held was only endured for so long before my willpower gave out completely, three and a half seconds. There were far more important duties to attend to after all, such as the scheme I brewed up back in the dilapidated loft I called a home. Even back then I was a busy bee. It's also come to my attention that I've focused too heavily on the minute details of that day. Perhaps a wider scope of events will reveal to me what exactly went wrong. That'd be nice to know even though the answer is right in front of me. The merchants...

Starting from the beginning, my day continued like any other day after my morning routine. The walk to the pier, the critique of pirate-kind and my inevitable loss of attention on the matter would then lead into a search for a quest. Any quest would do really, I had just woken up an hour prior and had the rest of the day open to me. So with plenty of time and targets to kill, the first thing I chose to do was head off to my regular client, Lloyd Berryweather, to see which assignments he could offer up. The walk there was free of hazards, if my rant on the deteriorating savagery of pirates didn't make it clear already. Dirt dominated the passages of the Pirate' Market where I operated as it was rarely managed and honestly quite a dump. The locals came around every so often to shop but only a few dozen took residence in that particular district, myself being one of the poor souls included who had to take shelter in some god forsaken space. Rent was nonexistent and the rooms were more spacious than one would expect from a decaying loft but the mold and odor of decade old liquor eternally soaked to the walls drove many out from the living quarters. I sucked it up and dealt with the prior years but even now cringe at the memory of waking up to an olfactory nightmare.

My boots shuffled lazily across the tan yellow ground, my direction occasionally moving aside to avoid certain folks such as Barley or other failed targets. Their glares of malice stabbed my back when I walked past them with an enduring, comical grin but I knew we were all still friends. Who wouldn't want to stay close with me after an attempted homicide? Moving along, I would run my hand through the assortments of various vendor shacks. A lone red delicious sitting atop its bretheren would be plucked out of the crowd and slowly dropped into my stomach, bite after bite. I noticed "Thirsty" Maurice handing out free refreshments as a promotion stunt and happily obliged in testing out his latest product. He scolded me of course on the act of assuming they were complimentary and immediately extended his open palm for an exchange of currency. Of course as friends, we knew not to pay each other in beri so I slapped my hand down on his with a congraulatory cackle and went on the way with an ice cold beverage in my hand. For some reason I can't remember why I heard him swearing over the tumultous crowd as I left his establishment. It must have been the alcohol, I guessed.

Now I was in business. The boss of this town for the ones who didn't know it, Venus Jades rocked her strut and glowed like a goddess in the sunlight. Or maybe that was just the mead dripping onto my heavily exposed complexion. That corset wasn't exactly as dry as I wanted it to be by the time my walk was over. Anyways, I managed to find Lloyd's firm in the middle of this urban labyrinth but only by chance since the guy liked to keep it safe and move locations every now and then. He told  me himself that I'd always know how to find him on account of his observations of my behavior. Apparently Lloyd had some people who liked to study me every now and then just so they'd know where to move on the expectations of my movement. It sounds creepy but I'm just flattered he cared that much about me. Maybe I should call him sometime.

Now this part of the story I can't recall perfectly on account of all that alcohol; I'm no heavyweight drinker as unbelievable as that sounds. What I can stitch together from the blurry images dormant in my brain went a little something like this...

First off all, I stomped through Lloyd's door because...f**k the establishment. Honestly had nothing against the man and even now I think he's a lovely guy. It was just in my blood to rouse things up a little, y'know? Anyways, Mr. Berryweather, as he liked to be called, didn't appreciate that stunt but decided to stick to his fancy leather couch and frustratingly rub his eyes instead. "Whoops!" was just about all I could say to him. A frantic waving of his hands gestured me to come inside before the whole town knew of his position. As I walked toward him, I also heard the hammering and sawing of wood behind me, surely the work of his laborers toiling away at the repair of my accident. Approaching the front of his desk, I greeted him with a twirl or two there, the bullets embroidered around my belt clanged melodically to the motion as I went with them. Bent at the waist, I dropped my upper body down to his eye level and stared lovingly at his half open grey eyes. "So Boss, got any hits for me?" I inquired of him. There was a brief moment of silence before he managed to speak up, a silence barely long-lived enough that I could admire his taste in fashion. The man always donned a grey wool suit, highlighted with a dark grey tie and even wore slate grey dress pants above his grey blue boots. What can I say, Lloyd was a fan of grey. After a few seconds,  I just guessed he wasn't in the mood to talk. This assumption was tossed out of the window by what happened next.

He started this dialogue with an irritated sigh. "Jades...You know I value you as a...valuable player in my operation here on Pirates' Market." The words sound almost forced now that I think about it but the thought never crossed my mind when he first told me. All I did was behave like the good mercenary Lloyd expected me to be and nodded my head with glee at his not-so-eloquent compliment. He continued with, "But lately...I've been rethinking our...partnership." That statement shocked me hard but in hindsight I should've seen it coming. All my previous jobs had a success rate of...rate of...Lloyd had every right to be reconsidering his options. But stupid old...young me didn't see it like that. The second I heard him express a tinge of doubt in my abilities - which I now understand were subpar at the time - I was pissed. With a flick of the wrist and flip of the palm, I brewed up a hurricane of trouble in Mr. Berryweather's office for the whole island to see. Grey wallpaper reminiscent of elephant backs was torn from their foundations. The greyware - literally grey silverware - went flying in circles around me while the forks and knives occasionally tore through the wallpaper or trimmed off a piece of Lloyd's hairdo. For a while, I quite enjoyed myself and laughed up a mighty guffaw. That poor bastard hid behind whatever remained of the silverwood desk after my orbital powers shredded its varnished surface to pieces. "Whoah whoa! Hold on, you bitch! S-stop wrecking my workspace!" I barely heard that when I was on the rampage and I honestly don't know for certain if that was what he yelled at me. Again, i was a bit under the influence and this didn't exactly happen last week. Not to mention there was also the impending threat of a miniature tornado standing right in that office. It's kinda hard to hear when you have furniture and silverware being spun wildly around you.

In the end, I left Lloyd alone as a favor from one good friend to another. He simply wanted to sever our business connection and I moved on...but not until I trashed Pirates' Market with the remains of his office the same way those goddamn pigeons littered my windowsill. What a bunch of crap. I walked out angrier than I had ever been before. Because then, not only was I on the verge of losing it after living in that dump for over three years, I was essentially jobless. Lloyd was literally the only guy I had to depend on for jobs and with him kicking my ass into the street, I had nowhere else to turn. Desperate times those were. Dark and desperate times. And in desperate times we called for desperate measures...Not me though!

Again, I was, still am and always will be a pirate. No payment, no permission and no problem. I live by my own laws and rule #1 is take what you can and leave nothing behind. Well then that raises the question, why did I work for money if I never intended on buying anything? Pffft. If you had the opportunity to keep money from circulating, wouldn't you do it? I'm an entropy fan cuz no matter how long it takes, I enjoy witnessing the breakdown of this system. Take for instance this scenario: some poor first mate doesn't have enough beri for a loaf of bread? I would come in with a bag of coins, sprinkle them over my palm but slowly so that he'd feel so helpless at the sight of my wealth. All the stages of emotions that people like him would give just filled me with ecstasy. Suffering, pain, anger and hatred. Oh, how it fuels me to torture others...Only now without a job to call my own, I didn't see a bright vision for the future. I merely counted however many days were left until that filthy loft would see a ghastly pale pirate igniting the building with herself in it to a final inferno of glory. Oh gimme a break. Anyone? My mind did not go so easy on me during my walk home. By the time I had woken up, walked to the pier and walked to Lloyd's it had taken the span of a few hours what with the slow pace I took and the immensity of this island. I looked up for a sign of hope but the morning light that blinded me so early in the day was replaced by a thick grey fog that Lloyd would mistake for a titanic treat of cotton candy, his favorite flavor: crippling depression. Much like what I dealt with after our minor skirmish. 

"Ugh! It's not fair!" I cried out aloud without a care in the world to who heard my plea for attention. As obnoxious as it sounds, I immediately grabbed my mallet out from its harness and struck hard into the vendor stand closest to me. The wooden column propping the sign up split off in two, the subsequent splinters of my impact shooting off in their expected direction with some even landing nearby in a fruit basket being sold next door. The owner of the business didn't take to kindly to that. "Wha-what?! What the FU-" I had no patience to deal with any naysayers at that moment. Instinctively, I took action. With a figure like mine being pumped with adrenaline, I must have looked like the most attractive wrecking machine ever seen. "WHAT THE FU-WHAT!? WHAT WERE YOU GONNA SAY?" My iron passenger still rode along in the tight grip of my right hand while my face leaked of belligerence, figuratively and quite literally. Ohohoho, I was seething in rage without a cure in sight  Unfortunately, I picked the most cowardly vendor to pick on since the only reaction I got after my assertive response was of a soft shelled man scared to fight back. "No-nothing..." Man, as if my past self didn't need a bigger ego. I ate up that hollow victory like a double fudge cheesecake and am ashamed of how stupid I sounded next. "That's right, no-nothing! Don't mess with the best, chump!" Despite being addicted to others' misery, I felt no enjoyment from ruining that man's stand. The rest of the day looked grim and devoid of potential. Until something unexpected occurred.

After I navigated through the maze of bodies, bumped into another few familiar faces, swore at them just because I felt like it and resumed on walking, I found myself standing once again at the site of contemplation. The shipyard. Only now, the sight had become much less saturated in the filth I came to be accustomed to. Only a vast azure valley rolling unto its own surface, folding constantly at sporadic breaking points and crashing back to itself lay before me. The tides played with your mind they did, as their churning waves approached you closer and closer and teased every inch of your skin to the threshold of insanity, they merely receded back and recycled the process again. Maybe that's why I loved the sea so much; it was an endless cycle of repetition much like myself. My own complexion desired a good soak at the time as well. Perhaps it was just the cool calmness of this colossal marine field that did me in. Perhaps I lost hope in my endeavors back in the South Blue and needed to be immersed for all eternity. Or perhaps it was neither of those silly notions. I may have just needed a good embrace from this mobile fortress of water since my clothes were still drenched in dried mead. Speaking of which, I felt my drunk stupor beginning to fade from me. A clear mind did wonders and only then do I think I remember being regretful of my crude behavior towards Lloyd. I wasn't very apologetic in those days, if I recall correctly. But anyways, I stared back at the ocean one more time and began to walk away back to my dup of a house when suddenly I heard the words that would shift the direction of my life...

"...Ahm tellin' ya Morty, Amino's da place ta get a quick rich AND have sum fun!" Immediately, I stopped in my tracks. Fun? Rich? Were these men psychic, I thought to myself. I curiously turned my gaze toward the direction from where this voice came from. "I-I-I...I just don't know about this Skipper! The North Blue's not exactly next door, y'know?" A breath of excitement was all I could exhale. My chest burnt with passion, convulsing in anxiety and shortening each intake of oxygen my little lungs could take. I felt my palms moistening up so wet that I wanted to find a towel to dry the sweat off on. But I couldn't, not with this sort of news going on around me! So patiently I stood there, even with my legs on the verge of collapsing, I stood there and eavesdropped on the dialogue that would change my life. "Morty, ya dolt! We ain't got a bounty and no Marine's gone chasin' aftah us! We're in da clear! To them, we're just a regular citizen merchant ship deliverin' goods to da North." With my eyes focused on the talking two, I could now distinguish who was who. Skipper, the man who had just finished talking, resembled a high class penguin. He had on a short black top hat  laced with a scarlet rose that was plugged tightly around the top of his presumably bald scalp. The man looked middle aged at best but his monocle and graying facial hair argued my deduction. Befitting of a waddling arctic bird, he donned on a fancy white buttoned black suit complete with an eggshell dress shirt underneath and a smooth black velvet tie. The rest of his outfit was all pure black but a lack of pigment did not detract me from their obvious high quality. Hehe, I remember admiring this classical look over Lloyd's mundane monochromatic attire.

"Well when you put it that way...I guess we should go!" And now here was Morty. For someone to timid in voice, he was  surprisingly quite mature in appearance. The guy was at least a head taller than I was and that spoke levels of his actual height since I had the upper ground when I looked at him. He had bleached blonde hair and a chiseled face that didn't quite match his squinted hazel eyes and short button nose. His lips were paper thin and bright red but I swore those things didn't have a natural shade to them. The attire that Skipper probably gave him were of significantly lower quality than his own. Morty wore faded green rags that barely hung on to his broad shoulders and his poor trousers were riddled to the brim with frayed holes and tears. He didn't even have shoes! From what I saw, Skipper may have had money but Morty was the sorry fool who actually deserved a quick rich. This is my own current opinion as back then I cared naught for the sorry state of some sea-bound stranger by the shipyard. "That's the spirit Morty! To Amino it is, the island of entertainment awaits!" Skipper and Morty were finally down for this desperate monetary endeavor. Standing at the shore, I saw the two of them just patted each other on the back as they made their way back into the ship, leaving my view...But not for long.

As I stood there petrified by the stupor of excitement, I was overwhelmed by the tantalizing situation they had offered me. Though my feet were frozen, the warmth of my imagination coming up with so many ideas to have fun on this Amino island was hot enough to thaw out the ice and get the gears in my joins running in action. Slowly, slowly, slowly I made my way toward the merchant ship and noticed along the way that the rope used to anchor the vessel to the pier had been recalled back to its storage. It clicked in my brain from this detection that I didn't have time to be traversing toward that transport with slow soles but with hasty heels. They could be sailing off without any notice which meant I had no time to waste. I picked up the pace and hurried off toward their ship despite my boots clanging hard against the pier's wooden surface. Luckily, the buzzing of the market was still busy enough to drown out whatever noise I tried to make. By the time I arrived at the platform bridging the dock to the deck, only a few seconds had gone by but the overall trip for me felt like it had taken hours to transpire. I'm not sure even now if this was out of some pathetic nostalgic sentiment but...I turned back one last time to see the landscape of this cesspool of crime. In the distance I could make out a rubble pile painted in thick splatters of avian white, most of them prevalent around my windowsill. It disgusted me, all of it. This island, these people, the culture of it all was sickening. Back then it felt like the new chapter of my life was about to start. A whole new island, a whole new sea, a whole new world. My eyes retraced their attention back to the ship in front of me. Without a thought, I smirked and made a late response to Skipper's enthusiastic statement made seconds ago. "Entertainment you say?...Count me in!" My right foot crossed the pier of Pirates' Market and landed back on the platform to that damn merchant ship. And so it began, the most regretful decision I ever made in my life...The story of how Venus Jades came to be the worthless sack of shit she is today.