Chaos on Crescent, Act III - Spiritual Healing

[Vio]

₁

---

There was no wind. Blades of ash grey grass stood still and undeterred, a meadow stretching for untold mileage. The sky was a boundless circle of parchment hue, stained by pallid streaks of cloud that seemed to linger eerily in the above. This place seemed familiar to the eyes of Scarlette Grimm-Rosa, who lay upon her back amidst the ashen brush and stared skyward with chocolate irises and pupils wide. She was breathing, but breathless; a sensation which she could not quite explained being as much a part of her as the white gown she wore. Her limbs leaden and thoughts heady, she sat up.

^{“What is this place?” she whispered:
“I’ve been here before…?”}

Eyes cast to the horizon, the fair femme saw nothing but endlessness vanishing beyond rosé horizons – a strip of colour that nicely blended the worlds of greyscale and sepia and promised nothing but an eternity of wandering. Slowly, her head following this boundless glade’s edge, all the way from left to right. There was not a single break within the bleakness. Neither a single shred of civilisation nor new territory presented itself. That was until she stood and turned, feeling the burden of her weight upon her knees. Some distance behind her stood an enormous tree; the only landmark this landscape presented was something of stark contrast.

Its trunk and bough were black as soot, its leaves a vibrant mix of ivory broken by blossoms of magenta. There was something that drew her closer, forcing Miss Grimm-Rosa to find her footing upon the grasses as she made to approach. Slowly she moved, taking the time to observe the dryad with more scrutiny than she ever would have. There was something about the tree that made her uneasy, but the haze of thought and memory was like a flock of ravens upon carrion; as soon as something started to become clear, it would be plucked away and vanish into an ebon void.

^{“Hmph…!”}

Now close enough to observe it properly, the dark-haired demoiselle could see the features of the bark. Twisted and gnarled beyond recognition, the oaken bow looked almost as if it had been melted, and the roots that ruptured the ground nearby were further testament to it. Serpentine coils seemed to flow and break erratically, vanishing beneath soils of iron chroma. Everything felt wrong about the world around her, for as peaceful and tranquil as it was, it seemed far too dull. Had she died and passed to the Otherworld? No! This was no heaven, but something far less virtuous. At the same time, it was no Hell.

Scarlette’s eyes widened as she looked to the foliage above, for something horrifically familiar hung from the branches. Dangling upon a length of crimson was a pallid humanoid, though anything but human. Skin shinier and fairer than white grapes was etched with rhythmic black swirls, like miniature whirlpools. The source of her power hung quite readily before her, tapered appendages clinging to its own body. Now she definitely remembered this place.

“So I’m just… dreaming again,” she stated. The uncertainty of her voice was clear as day. The Offspring Human took a step back, half out of hesitation and half out of carelessness. Going through this ordeal over and over was an unwanted thorn in her side, but she was at least curious as to the meaning of it all.

“I can’t remember what I was doing before I came here,” Scarlette uttered, turning away from the tree as she began to recap on prior events; “I was… No, Pluto and I were fighting against Octavo? Otacon…? Octavier! I don’t recall; did I use Homunculi? I must’ve done – a big one. Souffler! I remember using that, too, and put all my strength into one Homunculus. But, everything’s black from there. I felt a bit like I was flying… Huh?”

^Thump!

The dazed dreamer turned about, a sound having graced her ears. From the tree, the little morsel had fallen, but it was not so little anymore. Standing almost six feet in height, the Tane Tane no Mi ambled awkwardly towards her, its crimson stalk tailing behind it with an apparent weightlessness. It was a jarring sight, one that made even the sickly siren feel nauseous. It was like she was a young child again, feeling the pungent pang of salt and vinegar in the back of her throat as she had consumed the very fruit that now stared her in the face with spiral eyes.

Grrrrrrrroowwwwwrrrrrrr… Her stomach cried out hungrily at just the merest thought of consumption. The world in which she now wandered seemed to quake and fade as it did so, the veil of rose afar swirling inwards like an ocean’s tide. It hit her suddenly, filling her lungs with breath and knocking her free of her delirious state. The next thing she knew, she lay upon a bed, looking up at a stone ceiling. The wafting scent of various foods danced just within range of her nose, provoking yet another albeit more discreet grumble from her gut…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC}

et us pick up from where we left off! I imagine the banquet would have already begun, so most of the familiar faces from the previous threads are already there, save for Scarlette, Hexton, Quattro, Doctor Cyfer and of course Octavier. Scarlette will be showing up at the banquet hall in my next post, so feel free to set the scene and so on from Pluto's side of the story.

[/font][/sub]

Starring…

_{Scarlette Grimm-Rosa (990000)
Pluto (550055)
Rebecca (33ffff)
Ben (abcdef)
Clara (ff99ff)
Tweiss (ba3b3e)
Octavier (9999ff)
Old James (101010)
Skinny Brother (#7) (ad5a00)
Rotund Brother (#9) (00a5da)
Hexton (#2) (003300)
Quattro (#1) (e62f2f)
Brutish Brawler (#17) (440022)
Percentage Businessman (#19) (00ff55)
Nero Trojan (999900)
Blond Fighter (#24) (d5cf56)
Savage Warrior (#12) (633e09)
Kite (#10) (0ae7ab)
Doctor Cyfer (d5ff95)}

[/ul][/spoiler][/font][/sup][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[BlacKitten]

Every strand of fiber felt sore. Every cell in his body cried out in pain, and the act of moving only amplified it. Even the simple act of breathing caused his diaphragm and lungs to squeal in dismay. Only one eye opened halfway to maintain a blurred vision of the meandering structures above him. Natural forming grooves in the brown and rough surfaces armored its essence, yet the soft green paper-like sheets on its extremities contrasted the hardness. There was balance in this tree.

He lied on his back with his head rested on the firm soils by the trunk’s bulging roots. His body didn’t feel this agonizing during the fight, but now that the threat is gone, all of the accumulated damage seemed to pile up over him all at once. Deliberately away from the crowds, he desired silence and time on his own to recover and resort his thoughts. It wasn’t as apparent to him from before, but now he could honestly say that he hated Octavier as a person. The man fought with both fists and words with a stacked up complex system of beliefs that guides him. Yet despite all of that, it was infuriating to be unable to understand each other. Knowing the theory of one’s belief is enough to justify oneself, but changing one’s mind sometimes seemed impossible.

Not being able to come to an agreement didn’t bother him by itself. Perhaps what bothered him the most the reminder that Octavier became in his mind. It reminded him that no one could change Scarlette’s mind. She was too far gone. At first, he didn’t care and was content with just making use of her powers, but now, she was really starting to appear like a double-edged blade. If he wasn’t careful, her powers may backfire at him, and just like with Octavier, there would be nothing for him to say that could persuade her. Simply knowing that the girl sees herself as a hero or a saint irritated him. To her, killing was the same as freeing them to the otherworld. How does one argue against that? One can neither prove nor disprove of the existence of the otherworld. She called this world a prison. What should he say? It wasn’t right or wrong, just a matter of perspective. To him, being trapped in her body truly felt like being imprisoned.

Eventually, that day would come, the day where the two of them would clash and settle their differences. They were too incompatible. So far, they merely tolerated each other as if under a stalemate. It could even be said that Scarlette has been spending all of this time, waiting to gain enough power as a means to take him down.

What should he do when that day comes? What would Rebecca say to him? The mind of that girl was way beyond the help of therapy or consoling. Should he kill her? Doing so would certainly save the lives of many in the long run. Such a solution bothered him in only one respect; she wasn’t afraid of death for it equates to being freed. In the end, he didn’t want her to get what she wants. How would one punish such a person? What should one even do with such a person?

If Octavier is a reminder of the treat Scarlette would be in the future, then perhaps he should ask what society would do to handle that man. If that man ends up in prison, then is that the same solution to deal with the girl as well? A prison within a prison didn’t sound like it would change much seeing as she would be trapped either ways.
As a side note, the fights that he participated in today sure were a major disappointment. In the end, he never really managed to measure himself with the other fighters and remained ignorant of how he compared. It felt unsatisfying when it’s an uneven and unfair fight.

“I feel it in my body,” a hand raised skywards, reaching to grasp something intangible. “There’s still much more that I can do. I can surpass my limits once again. After my body heals, it will become stronger than before.”

[Vio]

₂

---

It hurt to move. Her body was stiff and her joints ached, right down to the flexing of her knuckles. It could not be said that she was not familiar with such sensations. On more than one occasion, Scarlette Grimm-Rosa had risked life and limb for some devout and perhaps delusional cause. She had been bludgeoned, slashed, pierced and shot at various points in her life since venturing out on her quest, but nothing seemed to have been capable of beating her so far. Some people might have attributed such resilience to her force of will – an almost insurmountable tenacity – but she saw it as something else. Her continued survival was a gift – a miracle that made sure she stayed on the right path.

“Urgh…” Unfortunately, her physical form did not feel too keen on taking another step any time soon, but she managed to force herself into sitting on the edge of the bed. Where was she? In Crescent Castle, she assumed; the brickwork and architecture looked at least somewhat familiar to her fatigued eyes. This had been the site of numerous battles throughout its history and the latest one to add to that record was perhaps one of the most unusual. Octavier, a man responsible for all manners of evil in disguise, had been defeated. Even so, it did not feel like a victory just yet.

^{How did I end up here…?
Scarlette asked in thought:
Where are Pluto and Rebecca…?}

Exactly where her priorities lay was not clear. The dark-haired damsel’s thoughts were still a hazy mess – delirium still seemed to knead at her mind like an inexperienced baker working fresh dough. Making heads or tails of her senses right now was as difficult trying to stand; a feat which her leaden legs and aching back seemed to deny her from executing. Chocolate irises observed her physique. Clearly she had been provided with extensive medical attention at some point between blacking out and waking up, for her torso was wrapped in tight and restrictive bandages. Her arms and legs were in similar condition, making her look like the subject of some ancient ritual for burying the dead.

She looked to her forearm; the locale of a bite through which she had channelled one of her most risky abilities. Bound almost completely in white gauze, she could barely feel the self-inflicted wound beneath. It did not itch as it had done after its initial treatment, and the numb throbbing of her whole body seemed to mask any other sensations. It was probably a good thing that her tolerance to pain was so high. Anybody else in her shoes would likely still be incapacitated by the burn. Even so, her lack of sense of self-preservation pushed her stand up. Just doing so made her feel a bit woozy.

“My dress…,” the gothic girl grunted somewhat breathlessly. Having been stripped by whoever had treated her, her carer(s) had been good enough to leave her attire with her, laying it out upon a table within the room. The black and white furls of fabric had most definitely seen better days, but despite the chaos of the final confrontation, the garb had come out relatively unscathed. Minor sewing repairs indicated that it too had received treatment, but the work was very subtle and difficult to notice at first glance. With a distinct limp in her stride, she ambled over to it.

Donning it nothing short of difficult, it took Scarlette much longer than usual to dress herself, but somehow she managed to do so despite the debilitations she currently suffered from. It was not exactly the most comfortable of processes, but the naïve ne’er-do-well felt better for it in the end. That still did not salve her hunger, however. The need for sustenance grew more and more intense, as too did her need for water, and the tantalising tingle of cooked meals somewhere within the palace seemed to force its way down her throat and nostrils with every laborious breath. Every action a chore, she began a slow and steady walk in search for food…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC}

[/sub]

Starring…

_{Scarlette Grimm-Rosa (990000)
Pluto (550055)
Rebecca (33ffff)
Ben (abcdef)
Clara (ff99ff)
Tweiss (ba3b3e)
Octavier (9999ff)
Old James (101010)
Skinny Brother (#7) (ad5a00)
Rotund Brother (#9) (00a5da)
Hexton (#2) (003300)
Quattro (#1) (e62f2f)
Brutish Brawler (#17) (440022)
Percentage Businessman (#19) (00ff55)
Nero Trojan (999900)
Blond Fighter (#24) (d5cf56)
Savage Warrior (#12) (633e09)
Kite (#10) (0ae7ab)
Doctor Cyfer (d5ff95)}

[/ul][/spoiler][/font][/sup][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[BlacKitten]

His eyes were closed shut while he unintentionally began to doze off into a slumber. As consciousness retracted deep into his mind, a decent power nap seemed quite welcoming. Sleeping out in the open like this was a rare act coming from him, especially at ground level.

In a close proximity, a low, smooth, masculine voice called out, “Why hello there!”

“!” Alarmed, Pluto forcefully sprung himself onto his feet, positioning himself as if ready to pounce or scamper at any given notice. Eyes enlarged; his head pivoted side to side uncertainly until a tall, slender figure stood by his flank. The foreigner wore a black tuxedo without any noticeable wrinkles in the impeccably clean fabric and a red bowtie neatly centered by his collar. His head sported a black top-hat that covered most of his hair, but the strands from the side revealed his hair color to be blond. Hands were covered by those white thin-fabricated gloves. As overly formal as he dressed, the truly disturbing aspect that one could not avoid starring at was the white mask covering the man’s face. It was an oval-shaped mask that masked his rather narrow, thin face with a sharp chin. A long, thin dark crescent slit formed a creepy smile on the mask along with two slits concaving down to form the eyes.

Taking a half-step back, the man bowed slightly as he crossed one arm, “Forgive me for disturbing you. You may address me as Shade. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. One-Hundred-Eight.”

The boy was just about to ask who this man is, but the polite introduction of himself caught him off guard. This politeness gave off a completely different vibe than when Octavier spoke. This one felt more sarcastic and insincere. Along with that blank white mask, countless of signs were warning him to not trust this man.

“I’ve watched you fight in the tournament; it was most… peculiar. The banquet has already begun. Won’t you care to reunite with the others who have partaken in today’s event?”

“What did you mean by one-hundred-eight? There were never that many participants to begin with.”

“Oh, pardon me, my mistake. Let’s see…, your number was eight, correct? One-hundred-eight is a special number to me, so I simply said it on the spur of the moment.”

“I doubt you came all the way here just to tell me all this,” the boy straightened himself up with a cautious gaze.

“Ah, of course, I’ve came to personally invite you,” both arms angled apart to offer a welcoming gesture. 

“I don’t need your invitation. The banquet doesn’t interest me.”

“Oh...," the man who calls himself Shade gave a short pause, "I believe you are mistaken. I was not referring to the banquet, Mr. Eight. I am inviting you to join us, the Revolutionary Army.”

[Vio]

₃

---

“Thff… It’s like learning to walk as a child all over again,” Scarlette Grimm-Rosa hissed to herself. In her bandaged state, the restriction of movement was nothing short of aggravating, and it did not help in the least bit that her twisted mentality compared such a process to an infant’s first steps. O, how tormenting it was being reminded of those days; something considered a grand achievement in the life of humans was – at least to her – an atrocity. Being born in and of itself was a foul fate that should befall no soul, but it was a rule of nature. No, it was no such thing! It was martial law instated by the founders of this prison realm.

She chewed her lip.

“This place seems… different?” Observing her surroundings with curious attention, the girl in Gothic dress noticed a distinct shift in the atmosphere of the castle. Before, the enormous atrium had seemed foreboding and fierce, yet empty and ghastly despite its ornate architecture. Now, however, it seemed a lot more alive. Swept clean, dressed from floor to ceiling with various articles of décor, Crescent Castle seemed like an altogether different building from what she had initially witnessed. It felt grand, yet homely.

I must’ve been unconscious for a while… Coming to the foot of the stairwell, Scarlette gave the vicinity one last look over. There were no signs of Octavier’s presence, nor did his various henchmen seem to linger as one might have expected devout followers to. Indeed, it was so starkly disparate from what had once been that she even wondered whether or not she had been taken to some differing locale. The answer, as she soon realised, was no. This was the same castle, just given a much needed enlightenment. If buildings could achieve Nirvana, this one might as well have done so.

Voices caught her attention.

^{“How are you awake?” asked a somewhat familiar intonation:
“I’d thought you’d have been out of it for days!”}

Turning, but not before looking around haphazardly, Miss Grimm-Rosa’s eyes settled upon an enormous entity. At first, her initial response was to tense, her vision superimposing imagery of such individuals as Octavier and Tweiss upon a similarly brutish man. However, the figure was anyone but them. Tall, muscular and square of physique, a man dressed in a white tank top and leather jacket with studded epaulettes stood near the entrance to one of the hallways. His short and messy dark hair looked as if it had been trimmed back recently, with some sort of medical patching – an ice pack perhaps – having been secured to his cranium. He did not seem anywhere near as badly beaten as the black-haired belle herself, but he was certainly a fighter of some sort.

^{“Do I… know you?”}

Lethargic and drained in her response, the fellow gave her an awkward glance from beneath his slightly swollen brow. Wracking her brains deemed a waste of effort; she simply stood and stared at him half-heartedly, awaiting an eventual response to break this silent stand-off. It did not take long for him to break and talk again.

“Did you bash your head or somethin’? Oh, wait!” he clapped his heavy hands. “Yes, you did, and right off of mine! I’m Number Seventeen, Johnny Guava, though you probably remember me better as the first guy you knocked out in the preliminaries. You gave my skull quite a shake, little missy!”

^{“I… I don’t remember,” Scarlette replied.}

“Really…? Ah, whatever. I’m just surprised that you’re walking around so soon after all the damage you took – are your bones made of cast iron, or something? Anyway, follow me. The post-games banquet started a little while ago, but it wouldn’t be very good if you didn’t show up, would it?” Turning his back to her, Mister Guava made some sort of ‘come with me’ gesture and began to advance down the hall to a wing of the castle to which she had not yet been. A little hesitant to follow at first, she waited for a moment before abiding and marched an awkward march across the polished stone floor towards the focus of the festivities. The strong smell of food and drink in the air was downright oppressive, appealing somehow to every facet of her body’s need for sustenance and managing to force her footing to become a little faster than she might have liked.

^{“What’s your name, by the way?”}

^{“It’s… Scarlette…”}

“I’ll keep that in mind. Who knows,” Johnny jested, placing his palm upon a partially opened door of great proportion. He turned and looked at her with narrow eyes. “Maybe we’ll meet again somewhere down the Line!”

Creeeeeak… Pushing open the door, the gentleman gestured for her to enter. Tentatively and tiredly, the Offspring Woman did just that, but was immediately overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of what lay beyond the threshold. Out of nowhere, the entire hall – many dozens of yards in length and breadth – turned from casual energy to something powerful. Many pairs of hands began to applaud the awkward angel’s entrance, musicians in the corner even going so far as to silence the melodies of their song in favour of the rhythm of the hand. What was this for, she honestly wondered…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC}

[/sub]

Starring…

_{Scarlette Grimm-Rosa (990000)
Pluto (550055)
Rebecca (33ffff)
Ben (abcdef)
Clara (ff99ff)
Tweiss (ba3b3e)
Octavier (9999ff)
Old James (101010)
Skinny Brother (#7) (ad5a00)
Rotund Brother (#9) (00a5da)
Hexton (#2) (003300)
Quattro (#1) (e62f2f)
Johnny Guava (#17) (440022)
Percentage Businessman (#19) (00ff55)
Nero Trojan (999900)
Blond Fighter (#24) (d5cf56)
Savage Warrior (#12) (633e09)
Kite (#10) (0ae7ab)
Doctor Cyfer (d5ff95)}

[/ul][/spoiler][/font][/sup][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[BlacKitten]

A recommendation? He thought it was weird for anyone to go out of their way to find and invite someone who carried no fame or reputation. No one would bother with hiring a nobody. There existed only one person in mind that could have possibly done this. It was nice to know that he hasn’t forgotten about him. As for why he would have done this sort of thing in the first place, the answer was apparent when seen from the perspective of a true outcast of this world. How much longer can he withstand the force of the Grand Line with a puny alliance with one other person while carrying the burden of protecting someone? No matter which forces he joined, simply being part of a side would lead to other sides being his adversaries. Joining the Revolutionaries meant having the World Government being his enemy, or at least, that would be what a reputable, notorious individual would have to face. What about him? No one knows who Pluto is, and that is precisely why he would be valuable. Keeping a low profile, hiding in the shadows, accomplishing certain mission-like goals, it fitted him perfectly.

No one has to know. No one would know. This will be a secret. I don’t know what sort of connections he has with the Revolutionary Army, but he must have his reasons. Well then…, if he’s involved, then I guess I can accept this.

A small handheld item was slipped into his side pocket.

His eyes had been consistently side-glancing at the masked man with great sense of caution. With the weakened state he was in now, he felt particularly vulnerable to be under attack. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise him if Shade deliberately chose this precise point in time, seeing as this would be the safest moment to speak without any hostility.
They both quietly strode towards the castle’s entrance. Neither had muttered a word to the other in a long while.

“Are my conditions acceptable?” Pluto asked in a low and soft tone.

“Of course, that’s exactly how we would want you to operate anyways.”

“I see. Then we have a deal.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Upon reaching doors behind the room of where the banquet was held and where the combatants would gather, the two of them stepped inside, parting ways as if they had never met. Each walked off in their own separate direction.

Rebecca had standing inside there as if anxiously waiting for him to come. With a relieved look on her face, she dashed forth to reunite with him after all that has happened.

[Vio]

₄

---

“Why is everyone clapping?” Scarlette Grimm-Rosa asked, quietly and naïvely. Indeed, the applause was grand enough to drown out all but the loudest of cheers, but the gestures of a man at the far end of the banquet hall soon brought silence to the crowds and replaced it with an altogether more contained energy. Many pairs of eyes remained focused upon the fatal femme. Some scrutinised her distinctly dark appearance, while others smiled welcoming smiles that somehow put the girl on edge. To be given such beaming glances seemed an almost alien experience and, while she did not recoil in disgust, she did not make much of an attempt to return the gestures to those so gracious enough to offer them her.

Her stomach rumbled decisively.

This is a pain… Grimacing at her own body’s desire for sustenance, the dark-haired demoness had no choice but to surrender to gluttonous temptation and duly made motions towards the broad array of buffet tables. Platters of various delicacies adorned the hall, ranging from succulent and juicy meats, and fleshly picked and steamed vegetables to sweet desserts of various intricacies. The whole array seemed rather unorthodox and in her observation of it all, the girl from Jigokuchi could not help but apply a sense of excess to whatever the cooks had prepared for this hour. Such extravagance seemed to make her appetite second guess itself.

“Ohohoho! Well, if it isn’t the victor,” chuckled a light voice, drawing the woman’s attentions only slightly away from the foods that her body lusted after. For a moment, her eyes gazed at nothing, up until she allowed her torpid focus to shift down a tad. Before her stood an elderly gentleman – a wizened and at least somewhat familiar figure whose cheery voice seemed fresh in her memory. Greyed, beady eyed and remarkably well-dressed in what might have been the fanciest tuxedo on Crescent, the individual better known as James stood beside Scarlette.

^{“Victor…?”}

“No, James is the name! Oh! I assume that passing out has scrambled your memories a bit,” the stout fellow stated jovially: “What I mean to say is, you – contestant thirteen – are the winner of our Battle Royale! I must say, it’s an absolute honour to stand in the presence of someone who has earned such prestige amongst our people. I’m positively ecstatic!”

^{“But, I…”}

“Ah-Ah! Modesty and humility, such noble qualities in a woman,” James continued indefatigably. “But you must remember, not only did you overcome the trials of the Battle Royale against some of the most fearsome fighters I’ve seen in my years, but you also went on to defeat a devil in disguise. Without you, I fear our fledgling Republic might’ve fallen too soon to the tyranny of a man of false blessings. Octavier! You single-handedly won it all! Marvellous – I’ve not seen somebody of such capability since I met our country’s new governor! I daresay, you might even be a match for him. The man’s a monstrous combatant-”

Does this man ever stop to take a breath…? Otherwise ignoring the remainder of the elder’s incessant ramblings, Miss Grimm-Rosa instead occupied herself with more pressing matters. Despite having a vague recollection of the day’s passing events, she could barely muster the energy (let alone the desire) to correct James’ jabbering. She was not the one to win the contest, nor was she the one to overcome the insurmountable obstacle that was Octavier. In both instances, it had been another soul inhabiting a part of her which had served to surpass all else. In the end, she had been little more than an empty vessel through which others had enacted displays of ferocity, cunning and resolve.

Did James know this? He acted to the contrary.

“Pluto,” the bandaged belle uttered soundlessly. Her carmine hues had long since abandoned the old man, now settling upon an altogether more recognisable silhouette at the chamber’s far end. Having escaped the previous conflict without too much in the way of critical injury, the Zoan was certainly in a much better condition than his Paramecia cohort, though he was most definitely no exception to the rules of brutal brawls. Injured he was, but recovering swiftly and generally presenting his usual aura of empty nonchalance. Quite frankly, Scarlette was not sure which disturbed her more; the cheery welcomes of others, or the cold shoulder of the man with whom she had travelled this far. The latter seemed far less oppressive right now.

Excusing herself from James’ company and, unfortunately and in the process, dragging herself away from much desired nourishment, Scarlette approached her comrade in arms. Sure enough, Rebecca was present. The general rule of the violet-eyed siblings had not been forgotten, despite the madness of previous hours. Somewhat hesitantly, she gave the young girl a quick glance. For all his efforts in protecting her, inevitability had been hot on their heels. Was she injured? Yes, but nothing serious or noticeable. Indeed, of all who had been present during the final fight, she was perhaps the only one to have escaped with little more than a few minor cuts and bruises. Her wounds amounted to little more than the everyday scrapes of an excitable child.

^{“Hnnngh…”}

Grimm-Rosa’s chest tightened, and then sank. What horrid emotion was she experiencing this time? Perhaps the only remotely correct answer was guilt. Somehow, in lieu of Annabelle’s reincarnation’s most superficial of damages, the reaper woman felt as if she had neglected a part of her duty. Indeed, she could not help but express something just shy of an apologetic look to the older brother as she made those final few steps into their midst. Unfortunately, her internal conflict only grew more stressful with the advent of an attempted yet unspoken apology. Why should she render her beliefs null for the sake of another, she questioned wordlessly.

^{“We won against Octavier,” the Gothic girl addressed.
It was more a question, but sounded rather matter-of-fact.
“What happens next…?”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC}

[/sub]

Starring…

_{Scarlette Grimm-Rosa (990000)
Pluto (550055)
Rebecca (33ffff)
Ben (abcdef)
Clara (ff99ff)
Tweiss (ba3b3e)
Octavier (9999ff)
Old James (101010)
Skinny Brother (#7) (ad5a00)
Rotund Brother (#9) (00a5da)
Hexton (#2) (003300)
Quattro (#1) (e62f2f)
Johnny Guava (#17) (440022)
Percentage Businessman (#19) (00ff55)
Nero Trojan (999900)
Blond Fighter (#24) (d5cf56)
Savage Warrior (#12) (633e09)
Kite (#10) (0ae7ab)
Doctor Cyfer (d5ff95)}

[/ul][/spoiler][/font][/sup][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[BlacKitten]

Holding up a hand to gesture the youth to halt, Pluto tensed his brows, feeling nothing but an uneasiness as he anticipates the pain that is to come. “Wait! Hold on, stop!” It was too late. A full body tackle landed head on with arms wrapped around from the sides. A hand gripped the wrist of the other from behind, locking her position in place. He couldn’t resist; his body was paralyzed with stings and aching. One could make out his teeth being clenched tight in defiance against the pain, but he could not absolutely nothing to escape his little sister’s hug.

His body grew tense as soon as Scarlette’s presence entered his vision as she approached closer with every step. This person was bad news. It amazed even himself that he has been tagging along with such a plague. Even learning more about her Devil Fruit powers no longer seemed worth it; he felt as if he has learned enough about it already. As always, the way she initiated conversations always ends up being something obvious. In this case, it happened to be 'We won against Octavier'. He wasn't sure if it could really be called their victory given the circumstances. A part of him felt as if they won due to a fluke. Nevertheless, the sound of her very voice felt like it would cause his ears to bleed. He simply couldn’t stand this person for very much longer. The very sight of her continued to remind him of that gory cursed powers and that sick-minded way of thinking which brought nothing but disgust to his stomach.

“We’ll be heading to Blue Lagoon next,” he said decisively before feeling the sudden release of his sister grasp.

Rebecca turned away, with her eyes curiously fixated on the object she pickpocketed just now, “What’s this?” It was a glass orb supported within a wooden structure. A string within the sphere held a narrow strand of magnet at its center. “A log pose?” She questioned before noticing words marked onto the wooden surface that read out as Blue Lagoon.

“Hey! Give that back!” He stretched out his hand towards the item that was far out of his reach. “That’s an Eternal Pose.”

“It’s not a log pose?” The girl whimsically bent her head back to give the item back to the brother behind her.

“No,” he snatched the item back into his possession, “this is more special than a regular log pose. Its magnet does not necessarily point towards the closest island within proximity. Instead, it forever points to one specific island only. As you can see, it points to an island called Blue Lagoon.”

“Where’d you get that from?” Rebecca did not recall ever seeing this item before.

“I found it within the castle,” he secretly lied, “It might have belonged to Octavier.” In truth, Shade was the one who gave this to him prior to entering the castle just a short while ago. However, he couldn’t simply tell them about his encounter with Shade. For the time being, there were many things that ought to be kept a secret, even from his allies.

His eyes shifted towards the crimson-eyed lady, “We’re going to ignore the log pose and follow this eternal pose instead. Is that alright with you?”

I have to be extra careful with what I say to them from here on out. 

[Vio]

₅

---

“We’ll be heading to Blue Lagoon, next,” Pluto answered. Tilting her head gently, Scarlette Grimm-Rosa repeated quietly the name of their next destination, somewhat ignorant of the childish on-goings between the siblings. Her thoughts were still somewhat scrambled by the cacophony of more recent events – the erratic nature of her short term memory was proving more of a hindrance than a help. For a moment, all she could really do was gaze absently at the reddened needle of the ‘Eternal’ Pose. It twitched and spun with every rigorous motion, but remained stoic in its facing all the same. Even if knocked from its waypoint, it quickly snapped back into position, transfixed upon something that was as of yet unseen to her chocolate eyes.

No matter what, it keeps pointing… It doesn’t change for anyone or anything… Finding herself to be arguing philosophy over something as mundane as a compass needle, she stepped back and shook her head. Contrary to how it might have appeared, she did not reject the idea of following the point’s guidance and heading to Blue Lagoon. As far as the anaemic angel was concerned, destination mattered little, so long as she was making progress. Therein lay the current quandary. Was she even making any progress towards her ultimate goal? While the Pose’s needle remained devout to its cause, she could not help but be sodden with a feeling of inadequacy; all these events had continuously worked to divert her from her objectives.

^{“We’re going to ignore the Log Pose.”
Pluto’s words snapped Scarlette from her internal debate:
“Is that alright with you?”}

“I… I don’t really mind,” she replied tentatively. Rebecca gave her an odd, somewhat disappointed look. Through those violet eyes emerged some sort of fierce, somewhat maternal beast. Metaphorical as it was, that was exactly how it felt to be given that sort of glance. It was somewhat reassuring, but at the same time very foreboding. Struggling to swallow, but eventually managing to do so, the girl in Gothic dress cleared her throat and spoke again. This time, her words were more confident and certain: “That’s fine. Blue Lagoon it is! But, when do we leave?”

^{“Oh! By the way!”}

^“…?”

“I believe these belong to you,” said James. The elderly man had, somehow, managed to approach without Miss Grimm-Rosa even noticing. With a snap of his fingers, a somewhat burly man in a dark suit approached. Standing not much taller than the two contestants, he seemed rather diminutive despite his sturdy physique. Admittedly, the haze of remembrance that whirled about the mind of Thirteen was still comparing statures to those of Octavier and Tweiss, whose sizes were substantially greater than the norm. Seeing a variety of average-sized folk was – ironically – something of a system shock. Nonetheless, the second gentleman carried some sort of elongated briefcase, crafted of what appeared to be very thin strips of well-polished oak. James popped the catches of the case as his cohort rested it in a horizontal position across his arms. “I wouldn’t exactly say these are in good condition, but they do belong to you. It’s only right that we return them, but given that you won the Battle Royale, we thought we’d clean them up in the process. One of our blacksmiths even tried to make some repairs, but he deemed the polearm as rather ‘unconventional’ and beyond his capability to repair and reinforce.”

Reaching out, Scarlette placed her fingertips upon the snaith of her scythe, letting out a sigh of relief as she did so. The weapon had been out of her grasp for quite some time now – more hours than she would have otherwise allowed – and being able to wrap her digits around it again was oddly comforting. She even went so far as to try and lift the weapon from its current place of residence, but the weight was just a little too much for her to support in her current condition. Instead, she opted against such things, letting it lie. The small arrangement of knives, too, had been stowed within a set of pockets attached to the innards of the case. All in all, nothing looked out of the ordinary.

“However, there is one small matter I would like to address,” the old one continued merrily. “The Crescent Moon Islands are home to a blacksmith by the name of Neith – a man whose talent in the forge is perhaps matched only by a select few fellow smiths throughout the Grand Line. As both the victor of our Battle Royale, as well as a key figure in the defeat of Octavier, I have received orders from the Grand Council to offer you this. As a token of our people’s gratitude, Neith himself will forge any weapon you desire. What do you say?”

^“No.”

Her answer rather hasty and abrupt, the dark-haired demoiselle seemed indubitably decisive in her response. However, James seemed anything but surprised at her answer. Rather, he just nodded and smiled his ever-present smile as his company sealed and set the case and its contents by the woman’s feet. “That’s fair. I suppose you’ve already proven that you don’t need such trivial weapons to put up a good fight! Anyway, please – all of you – enjoy the celebrations. This marks yet another turning point in Crescent’s admittedly tumultuous history. For however long you decide to stay, know that you are welcome! I bid you adieu…!”

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC}

[/sub]

Starring…

_{Scarlette Grimm-Rosa (990000)
Pluto (550055)
Rebecca (33ffff)
Ben (abcdef)
Clara (ff99ff)
Tweiss (ba3b3e)
Octavier (9999ff)
Old James (101010)
Skinny Brother (#7) (ad5a00)
Rotund Brother (#9) (00a5da)
Hexton (#2) (003300)
Quattro (#1) (e62f2f)
Johnny Guava (#17) (440022)
Percentage Businessman (#19) (00ff55)
Nero Trojan (999900)
Blond Fighter (#24) (d5cf56)
Savage Warrior (#12) (633e09)
Kite (#10) (0ae7ab)
Doctor Cyfer (d5ff95)}

[/ul][/spoiler][/font][/sup][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]

[BlacKitten]

“Mission complete. He’s now on our side,” a low voice spoke closely to the Den Den Mushi.

From the other end of the connection, a vibrant, confident male tone replied, “Excellent, I was afraid he’d refuse. And? How is he doing? Is he strong? It’s been so long since I’ve last seen him.”

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to see him fight seriously. He stood out as one of the strongest fighters in the first round, but the final round was quite disappointing. It was almost as if he has completely forgotten how to fight. The two rounds were quite inconsistent to the point that I began to doubt if I was even looking at the same person.”

“Eh!? That’s awfully strange. This is someone who even Berserker –someone on my side- acknowledges.”

“This person that you asked me to recruit… he seems to be allied with another Devil Fruit user. Practically everyone here acknowledges her as the one who took down Octavier. Should I invite her as well?”

“Oh, you must be referring to the girl that Cerberus fought against. How’d she do in the tournament?”

“She’s a clumsy fighter in her first round with little skill in hand-to-hand combat. Her Devil Fruit power is what made her stand out. However, in the final round, all of a sudden, she became quite proficient in hand-to-hand combat. Just like the boy, the showcasing of her skills was also extremely inconsistent. I’m not entirely sure what to make of any of them.”

“Huh? That’s odd. Who’s this Octavier?”

“Octavier, The Exorcist, is a man with a bounty of 35, 000, 000 beri. I’ve heard of suspicious activities on this island that traces back to him. Besides that, I know very little of him.”

“Mmm…, interesting…, in any case, did you give him his first mission?”

“Yes, his next destination should be Blue Lagoon.”

“Good, I hope you continue to keep an eye him. I have faith that he’ll be a valuable asset on your side.”

---

“Hmm?” His eyes wandered around the room, skipping across the faces which he could barely recognize. The masked man was gone.

“What are you looking for?” Rebecca tilted her head. Something felt off. Ever since the conclusion with the struggle with the man who can swap people’s bodies, her brother simply seemed different than before.

“Nothing,” Pluto responded before closing his eyes shut.

[Vio]

₆

---

“What are you looking for?” Rebecca asked, to which her elder sibling responded dismissively. More thankful for the return of her armaments, Scarlette Grimm-Rosa paid little mind to her company’s curiosities, instead allowing her attentions to be stolen away by other things. Trivialities could only be pushed aside for so long and – with a rather unpleasant reminder from her gut – she was soon directed towards the buffet tables to which she had initially been drawn. Though she still found it all rather excessive, the desire for sustenance was more than enough to drive her hands, taking up a plate and soon stacking it with as much as she could muster the strength to carry. No surprises, but it mostly consisted of red meats and leafy vegetables, all rich in iron…

^-~-

^{Crescent Central – Rooftops}

“Are you certain, Agent-soyo?” asked an otherwise unassuming voice, soft as the wind and without any sense of urgency. Upon the flattened roof sat a compact array of communications equipment – a Den Den Mushi and one of its less commonly seen snowy-skinned brethren sat side by side. The latter seemed to eye the horizon lazily, occasionally shifting its wary gaze to the upper levels of nearby buildings. Its more colourful cousin, however, had long since assumed a smooth and rather indifferent appearance.

“I’ve determined that this is indeed the woman we’re looking for, Sir,” a slender man replied, dressed in business suit. The contestant formerly numbered as ‘Nineteen’ knelt upon a neatly woven portable Tatami, holding a fine china saucer in his left hand as – with his right – he tipped the matching cup to take a sip of its warming herbal contents. His glasses glinted faintly in the light, hiding the hue of his eyes as he continued to address the snail before him. “Her appearance closely matches that of the photograph, though her outfit of the time appears to have been replaced with something far more ornate. Furthermore, it appears she is not travelling alone.”

^{“With whom is she travelling-soyo?”}

“Their names slip my mind, but she is in the company of a young man in his late teens and an even younger girl in her early teens,” the agent answered. He paused, taking another sip of his tea. “Both are of medium height and slim-to-average build, dark-haired and possess distinct purple irises. The boy is also an ability user – a model of the Batto Batto no Mi. His mastery over such a power seems to be well-developed, though whether or not he will actually pose a threat is yet to be determined. He is powerful, intelligent.”

^{“Hmm… What are the chances that he would be swayed-soyo?”
The voice asked:
“Does he seem particularly attached to her-soyo…?”}

“I’ll admit he’s almost impossible to read. I’d wager an eighty-seven percent chance that his affiliation with her is purely situational – if circumstances change I believe he is more than likely to turn his back on whatever agreement they might have,” Nineteen, Percival, explained. Once more, he raised his cup, but hesitated. “I was able to passively aid the Crescent Moon Republic during this investigation, Sir. The power those two possessed was enough to overcome Octavier – thirty-five million does not do the man’s strength and cunning justice. Nonetheless, he has received the justice he deserved, even if by unorthodox hands.”

^{“I see-soyo… Frank and Deck have been deployed-soyo…”}

^{“I’ll arrange transport on my end, then, Sir.”}

“Agent Percival-soyo, what did you say the chances of it being the target were, again-soyo?” quizzed the mysterious male, his voice whistling slightly as he spoke; even through the Den Den Mushi’s lips. A moment of strict silence went by, Percival taking the final sip of his herbal brew before setting the cup and saucer down beside him. He tapped the frame of his spectacles with his forefinger – three times exactly – before adjusting the lenses slightly. His green eyes shone briefly.

^{“I have never been more sure, Sir,” he said strongly:
“Chances are… one hundred percent!”}

^-~-

^{Marshfield Bridge – Northern End}

“Are you sure I don’t know you? I can’t help but feel I’ve heard your voice somewhere before,” asked a burly man, currently holding the reins of an impressive Curly-Tusked Boar. The enormous pig seemed quite content, marching along whilst chewing upon something tenacious. It had no problem towing the large rickshaw along in its wake as it came to the far end of the bridge, where the mangrove-like trees of the Crescent hung their sleepy branches in the fast-waning hours of day. Back to the driver and facing to the darkening silhouette of Crescent Central, a darkly cloaked and hooded figure remained mostly silent, drawing laboured breaths.

^{“Not much of a talker, are you?”}

“I’ve… Learned it’s often better to keep your mouth shut,” the shadow answered wearily. “You never know when something you say will make others turn against you… Not until it’s too late…”

“Good advice, I’ll heed,” the driver nodded, tightening his grip on the reins and giving a gentle tug. The harnessed boar grunted, beginning to slow its pace down to a slow trot as it crossed the threshold of the bridge and set hoof upon firm ground. With surprising grace for its size, the beast steered the wagon around in a soft circle, coming to rest beside a small outpost of sorts where a couple of guardsmen were seen. The one gave the driver a nod, whilst the other seemed far more fascinated by the newspaper in his hands. News had travelled fast across the islands of Crescent and the presses had wasted no time, the headline read:

^{FUTURE TYRANT PLOY UNRAVELLED
CRESCENT STANDS BRIGHT AGAIN}

The robed figure disembarked from the wagon, placing scrunched up notes and cold coinage into the taxi man’s palm. The driver squinted, counting the change quickly in the dimming light, but the cloaked one had disappeared like a phantom by the time he looked up. Scratching his temple, he quickly sorted the fare from the excess, pocketing the latter for himself before offering the behemoth of a boar some extra leaves. As he turned, he could have sworn he’d caught a glimpse of a rippling cloak hobbling into the woods…

_END

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{OOC}

[/sub]

Starring…

_{Scarlette Grimm-Rosa (990000)
Pluto (550055)
Rebecca (33ffff)
Ben (abcdef)
Clara (ff99ff)
Tweiss (ba3b3e)
Octavier (9999ff)
Old James (101010)
Skinny Brother (#7) (ad5a00)
Rotund Brother (#9) (00a5da)
Hexton (#2) (003300)
Quattro (#1) (e62f2f)
Johnny Guava (#17) (440022)
Percentage Businessman (#19) (00ff55)
Nero Trojan (999900)
Blond Fighter (#24) (d5cf56)
Savage Warrior (#12) (633e09)
Kite (#10) (0ae7ab)
Doctor Cyfer (d5ff95)}

[/ul][/spoiler][/font][/sup][/blockquote][/div][/div][/div]