Brobuk and the Shork

[Smiley]

The monster had been doing his rounds of the sea, just like all other days. Nothing, apparently, could ever hope to escape him if they entered his sights, as no ship could seem to outpace or outmaneuver him and, bit by bit, holes would appear on the bottom, continuously flooding the ship with more and more seawater. 
Eventually, as things would go, the unprepared ship would start sinking and the poor, foolish humans on board, not adept at fighting while swimming, became incredibly easy pickings for the blindingly fast monster. 

The "strong" ones who'd try and stand up to the monster would soon meet meet Davy Jones face to face, even if he always spared them once they reached an inch of their life, while the weaker ones that did their best to flee were, invariably, ignored. What wasn't ignored was whatever loot had started to sink with the ship, be it food, money, weapons and whatever else could be considered to have value. 
This time, a small vessel with its escort was targeted from below, being made to sink relatively quickly and, before anyone could react appropriately, the monster had made away with its treasure:

A large full set of ceremonial armor, meant for a ceremony of sorts of a kingdom's newest head knight - it'd be the center piece, the sign of the man's greatness and accomplishments.

Now, it belonged to the monster.
Bucket - the Pearly Nautilus fishman, who couldn't be happier that the armor actually fit him, even if with a bit of difficulty around the torso. "I founds me a sick-ass treasure! This will sell for good money..~" The man muttered to himself, trying out the armor with a huge smile to his weirdly shaped face, taking a good deal of time just to put it on.

Did you know that a knight's armor, even if ceremonial, takes a stupid amount of time to actually put on? 
At least it looked cool and the gaps on the back plates still allowed him to jet around - and jet around he did, straight to the closest isle of Loguetown, one friendlier to outlaws like him, where he could sell his armor, not for its combat value, but to some savvy, shady dude that might know the sheer value in the precious metals that went into making the piece.

Though, today, since Bucket had a slight paranoia over going the same routes every time, taking his small bounty of seven and a half million (and one) beris a bit too seriously, he started walking through a lonelier side of Loguetown, through one of its many roads, wondering if he'd see something different here.

[pepsi]

Like stealing candy from a child, she thought.
It wasn't clear how confident she was in her ability to break and enter, but she had been enough at it to know the ins and outs of sliding into windows and conveniently open doors. She had been following that couple for at least an hour until finally they decided to stop, kiss in front of the main door, and come in. With them, came in Phoebe.

It had been a rather fruitful night, although most of her findings were sold for much less than their actual value. The pawn shop she made deals in was delighted to exploit her gullible demeanor and her lack of knowledge in addition and subtraction, even going as far as giving back the wrong change. She didn't really care, as all she ever asked was "enough for one more day".

Somewhere inside her mind lied the idea that such life was somehow... wasted. She never gave much weight to the tiny voice that told her she was meant to be something different than a scoundrel and a homeless, but nevertheless, it was there. And so, another morning came. One more day.

She sat by the curb of the largest streets of Loguetown, where many people pass through every day; a small bowl in front of her, meant to collect donations from the passersby. Just covered with a large brown poncho, she looked more or less like a sad potato sack with green hair, thrown by the side of the street. Her eyes, at the very end, caught up on something rather unusual.
It was a man, or so it seemed, wearing steel in a way she had never seen before; she heard stories of people wearing plates like that, but she had never seen one in person. Phoebe picked her bowl, slipping its three coins in her poncho's pocket, and stood up.
She then proceeded to follow the odd fellow from a safe distance, going with the flow of the crowd, wondering how his day would play out.

[Smiley]

Turns out the armor actually disguises him pretty well, since no one had yet to look at him with any sort of fear or hatred. What he mostly got were looks of curiosity thanks to the very pricey armor he had on him, his sheer size seemingly keeping would-be muggers apprehensive, with their second thoughts on whether it was safe or no to approach someone like that. Not like he wouldn't be happy if they did come to him, Bucket always itched to dig his fist into someone who deserved it. 

Yes, his race did have the stereotype of being violent beasts, yet it was one that felt like a compliment, more than an insult.

Wishes of violence aside, the fishman felt like he was being observed this very moment, not to say that no one was looking at him of course, more that it felt like someone was watching him more intently than others. Those were, of course, worries that were entirely below him since, after all, someone as super awesome as him would have an insane amount of followers, so it made sense that people would just be admiring his awesome self in a suit of awesome armor.

"What am I supposed to be doing here, again?"
The cavernous-voiced man muttered to himself, trying to find a place where he could go and get this armor sold, so that he could get more money for his "secret project". More than likely, he'd try and find the people who most needed it and give them most of the money he earned, being a bleeding heart deep down.
"Ah yes, sell this. Well.." Taking a look around, the big guy started to look around for people that could possibly help him find some shadier folk that would take the armor off of his hands and, since Phoebe did stand out in that way, the big man took his first steps towards her, his pose non-threatening, though his steps were definitely heavy.

More than likely because he, too, is heavy.
And though he was going to just ask her a question, one could safely assume that he was a bad person who would hurt her - which meant that this was Phoebe's chance to run away.

[pepsi]

The man seemed to be doing nothing particularly interesting, at least from Phoebe's perspective. He just wandered the city, almost aimlessly, with that clunky piece of armor making jarring noises at every step. He was much taller than everyone; compared to her, Phoebe thought, he must have been at least four or five times her height.
Phoebe didn't really know multiplications. She never had the time for that stuff, and numbers kept getting confusing after the first few fingers.

While following him around, from safe distance, he suddenly stopped. She didn't think much of it, and took the opportunity to take a breather herself. The long limbs of the guy allowed him to walk at twice her pace at the very least.
And that was when she saw him turn around and come directly at her. She gasped: had she been spotted? Was he going to hurt her? She had been rather careful, but one never knows.
So, instead of making it look more suspicious than it should have been by having an exaggerated reaction, she just turned one-hundred-eighty degrees around and started hopping in the opposite direction; as soon as it was possible, she quickly entered an alley and walked on. If he intended on hurting her, he would have probably followed her in the alley.

[Smiley]

Was she trying to run away from him? Darn, she really must be thinking that he was going to hurt her or something, since it's hard to convey emotion when the armor you're wearing covers the face as well, making sure that he couldn't show his friendly and super cool face. Well, she wasn't fast by any means, however, since he felt weird once he saw her walk in a weird way, he had a hunch that she might just fade away the moment she turned the alleyway by hiding in a spot where he'd never find her.

For that reason, he did something weird. All that Phoebe heard as she neared the corner was a sudden, louder clank, then nothing for a second or two.
What really happened was that, to catch up to her and, of course, play a little prank on the girl, the giant had suddenly gotten into a sprint, one much beyond the limitations of humans or even an untrained fishman, imitating that cool technique he had seen a whole while ago, where some dude was kicking the ground as fast as he could while running.
And, while the trainee might not have picked up on it, it still was enough to teach the big guy how to run so fast that he'd actually disappear from the view of untrained or weaker people, kicking the ground ten times in a split second. 

Such was his speed that, the moment she turned that corner, she came face to face with the armored giant, with his torso slightly tilted forward, head facing directly down at her. With his hands on his hips, he decided to start talking, his cavernous, yet surprisingly energetic and cheery voice coming through that metallic helmet.
"'Sup, new friend! I'm Bucket and I just stole this armor, where can I sell it?~" Either confidently or stupidly honest, the big guy revealed his CRIMINAL identity right away, as well as revealing where he got that suit of armor. 

The identity, however, maybe didn't mean much to her - knowing about a wanted "monster" with an above average bounty wouldn't really help her survive another day.

[pepsi]

She went right around the corner. It was a foolproof plan, in her mind: he would have lost her, she would have had time to blend in the environment, and everything would have been okay. Her mind was so caught up in focusing on where exactly to hide, that she almost didn't hear the loud clanking noise coming from behind her.

Curious! She looked back for a split second. The man seemed to have vanished, much to her relief - that was very scary, she thought.
Imagine her shock when she heard the voice of a man coming from what was practically above her. She turned, only to find a hulking mass of metal towering over her.

Her hair instantly went white; her face, slightly paler. Even her eyes turned to a different shade of blue: for a second, she felt in actual danger.
Any regular person would have probably screamed, and run away. But not Phoebe, no: she was very good at playing dumb to save her skin from situations like that. "Hallo!" she said, a hand peeking from inside the poncho. "Why, yes, friend, I've got one just down the road. Follow Phoebe!" She turned once more, and started walking with absolute tranquility.

She corrected: "I mean, Phoebe is me. I'm Phoebe. Follow me." Switching from one demeanor to another came as natural to her as switching from one hair colour to another; all she needed to do was, simply, stop thinking. She marched on, seemingly unfazed by the height of the man any longer. Eventually, they reached her favourite pawn shop. She just stood there, arms open pointing towards the front door.

[Smiley]

Stereotypes win again! He assumed that the girl he had spotted would know something about places that would accept stolen goods and, now, here he was, following her to the place! A very cute girl too, one that he had now observed had fish features, being more than certain a fishman just like him, as well as a personality that endeared herself to him almost instantly. He wanted to give her lots of headpats at that moment, however, he had to focus more on what he needed to do at the immediate moment, his eyes gazing at the doors to a pawn shop that almost smelled like shady.

"Aw, you're such a helpful little squirt! C'mere with me, I'll need someone to vouch for my intentions." Bucket used that as an excuse to gently push Phoebe's back inside the pawn shop, stepping right behind her to the bewildered dudes at the front.
First and foremost, the big guy broke out of his armor, slowly shedding it down to the last greave, revealing himself to be a shirtless, bucket-headed humanoid beast, save for the very hard-to-see openings on his neck that were actually his gills, as well as a sneaky hole on the middle of his upper back, where he'd inhale water just to expel it out as propulsion. 

Pearly Nautilus stuff and all.

"Hello -- I'm Bukbuk, the Bucket, wanted criminal who stole this armor from some royal convoy. Give me three million beris." The big guy explained in very simple terms, pulling out a wet, slightly smudged yet very much real wanted poster out of his pants, figuring that no one would dare to ask where kept it since his pants had no pockets, showing it to them. 

"WANTED: BUKBUK THE BUCKET ~~7,500,001 BERI~~" 

Though one might assume that he was using his bounty and infamy as a threat, the big guy actually just meant it as a method of showing that he was the real deal, an actual criminal. The dudes at the front didn't dare question the fishman or the armor, though they did start offering him just one and a half million beris.
An altercation ensued, of course, with the huge fishman arguing that just the raw materials alone could net them a lot more than just one and a half million and that the best he'd do would be two and a half million. The pawn shop owners remained solid on the one and a half, until Bucket "capitulated" and offered them one million, seven hundred and fifty thousand beris.

The owners did agree as well, obviously proud of having cut the initial demand in almost half, handing him the large back of money with their cocky attitudes and condescending "Come back again!". 
Once outside, Bucket smiled wider than they had, since he knew that he had overshot it by a MILE and, abusing the fact that such a crappy town in the middle of the weakest seas wouldn't have the most savvy or talented of criminals, hyped what he had gotten with his infamy.

"Fools. Right, little Phoebe? Here, buy yourself something nice." The big man nonchalantly dropped the large bag of money on Phoebe's hands, finally revealing his newest "objective" for that money. Whatever he stole, he usually just gave it away to people he thought deserved it more, relishing in the anger of the royalty and the gratitude of the needy.

[pepsi]

"A helpful what?" she asked in her mind, as she felt his hand push her lightly towards the front door. She didn't resist it, mainly because of the fact that she couldn't. As she came in, the owner immediately recognized her and smirked, thinking of what kind of goodies he would have gotten basically for free. When the other came in, however, all of his confidence dissipated like seafoam.

The large man started stripping away the armor, revealing vast amounts of bare skin. Phoebe was seemingly unfazed by the action, since under her poncho she was almost entirely naked herself. To her, being naked was essentially the same as being clothed, given her own skin acted as wardrobe of virtually infinite attires. A single thought emerged from the usual bundle in her head: "I just realised... We're all naked under our clothes!"

Even after he had said his name and bounty - which, by the way, to her was just a number larger than what she could count - A single finger appeared from under the poncho, pointing at Bukbuk's head. "You missed a spot" she said, looking at the bucket. "And your ass is showing." She clearly referred to the hole in his back.
After that, the shop owner and the Bucket man argued in an almost incomprehensible language for too many seconds. She sat there, looking at one, and then the other, and then again the first, and then the second; it was almost like staring at a badminton match for her.

At the very end, the giant dropped a large sum in her hands, which was much more than she had ever held in her life. She looked up at the bucket, and held the bag higher. "No, Big Bucket, you got confused. These are yours."
"I mean..." she continued "... I don't need this much."

[Smiley]

She almost ruined his serious tone while he argued with those dudes thanks to saying that the propulsion hole in his back was a butthole, though he still kept quiet. It was also weird that she wasn't familiar with his head, partly because he didn't think he was the only fishman like that. Had she met other fishmen? 'Course she had, she IS one!

She didn't want to accept the money. It was a fair and normal thing that people as humble and needy as her would usually say when offered an immense sum of money, though she also seemed to be quite somber about it, in a way. Was it disbelief that Bucket was seeing on the adorable little squirt's face? Had she grown so used to the lack of charity from the already impoverished and individualistic people of Loguetown that she couldn't believe in the niceness of another?

"I know, little Pheebs. It's my money and I want to give it to you." To get on her eye level, he had to actually get on one knee, just so he could bring his huge, strong yet warm arms around her body, bringing her in for an almost fatherly hug, patting the head of the girl who probably hadn't gotten a loving touch in way too long. "I'm a fishman too, just like you. I know how hard it is to live in these streets when everyone else is so different - it must be so scary.." The big guy quietly spoke, having befriended so many people with their own sad horror stories of the human world. Where, if the fishman doesn't have strength or a group of his own, are just liable to exclusion and scorn. 
His heart ached ever so terribly for those people, to the point that they always rested on his mind whenever the first passing shadow of doubt coursed through his mind. What he was doing, struggling for and fighting for was right, of that he was sure.
Helping out a poor, homeless fishwoman was a matter so simple to him that he did not even give himself the room to have second thoughts, showing this by holding her a bit tighter.
"This money is for more than need - it's for happiness. When was the last time you ate something truly tasty? Bought something nice for yourself -- went out to do something fun. Please.. accept it." 

Bucket's convictions lied in the promise that he made when he was leaving the island.
He would give every fishman and every merman a reason to smile and be hopeful for the future - Phoebe was included obviously, in fact, she might just be the first person he actually gets to help. All he needed was for her to accept his help.

[pepsi]

As the man's arm went to wrap around her, she felt instantly uncomfortable - she squeaked lightly, and slipped into the poncho as the grip tightened. What he would have hugged, instead of Phoebe, was a brown bag. A sad potato sack, without the potatoes.

She was revealed to be wearing something that looked more like a white and black skintight suit than anything else, although it was literally just her skin. The color white matched rather well her hair, and that wasn't a coincidence; as she stepped back, it first turned to a light blue, then turquoise, then bright green.

She put a finger on her lips and pouted, pondering. She hadn't seen any Fishman with a butthole on their back. Not even the whale Fishmen had it, as far as she could remember; in her orphanage everyone was required to wear shirts and pants anyeays, so she wouldn't have known. The confused look on her face continued as the man offered ways to spend his money for herself.

Suddenly, it hit her. Her eyes lit up, as she remembered exactly what she could have done with that money. "OOHHHH!" she screamed, her eyes sparkling, "I can buy lotsa fritters! From the stand two roads down!"
She weighed the sack by wiggling it left and right. "This has to be... at least three fritters." Apparently, three was "lotsa" for her.
As quick as her excitement exploded, it faded. "But..." she continued, her chin dropping, "... but when I eat them, they will be gone, won't they? What good is money when I can only be happy for a moment?"

[Smiley]

Well, guess that she was just so skittish that she wouldn't have any hugs, though the skintight suit on her looked particularly good, enough to make the big guy actually feel a little sheepish. How could anyone leave such a precious little squirt out here to waste away in poverty? Even if he wanted to pamper her forever and steal only for her, he had to get his ideas straight, instead simply looking at her with a smile on the anchor in his bucket head.
"Silly girl. Money like that can buy you three friters three times a day for the next five years, or more!" 

Turns out Bucket knew how to count well and some basic knowledge of maths, though it wasn't his strong point either. Still, he figured that it'd drive the point home and, when she asked him what she'd do with money that could only keep her happy for a moment, the big guy looked down and pondered for a while. It wasn't like he could tell her to use the money to get herself what she needed to start a new life, since she was a fishwoman..
Still, he knew that one place at least would accept her. 
"With that money, you can afford to care about anything else that isn't how you're going to survive the next day! With that new free time and money in hand, you could look for the same organization I'm looking for, the Revolutionary Army! 
I'm looking for them too, so that I can join and make life better for fishmen and fishwomen like me and you! If you join them, you'll finally be with real friends who will care for you and keep you safe and fed!"

She didn't look the fighting type to him, even if their race was naturally gifted with insane levels of strength. Still, the Revolutionary army had a LOT of logistics and accounting to get done in a constant level, an obvious assumption that anyone with half a brain could guess, so she'd surely be able to learn her way into helping out the Revvies in a non-combating way.

"For now.. wanna go out for those friters? I'm hungry, too." The big guy tried to see if she'd accept going with him, hoping that the answer was positive. After all, if everything he had said hadn't endeared him to her, then he surely had failed in bringing some joy to her life!

[pepsi]

The girl looked surprised for a second. "Whoa!" went Phoebe, as she recalled all the days she could have eaten a fritter but decided against it, only to be hungry for one more meal. "I'm not sure I can down three every day..." she nodded to herself "... but I can try."

As the man listed all the amazing advantages of the Revolutionary Army, she looked lost in thought. Her index finger tapped rythmically on her lips; "but why?" she asked. "Nobody at the orphanage cared about making friends" Phoebe continued, "and neither do I". It was a blatant lie, but it was one of those lies one just keeps telling themselves as a defense mechanism. "I can survive here or there, same thing."

Her palms joined and her whole face lit up as the man offered to go. "Yes!" she replied, before extending her right hand. "But can I have my poncho back?"
She felt somewhat like talking as she guided him towards the fritters stand. As a primer, she asked: "So... where did you find that steel dress?", following with "and why do you still wear a piece? I thought you sold it." It wasn't clear why she felt that way, but maybe some in her brain was finally working in the right way.

As they reached the stand, the first thing Phoebe wanted to do was throw the bag on the cart and look at the man dead in the eyes. "Three fritters. Every day. For the next five years or more."
She then turned to Bukbuk, happily waiting for his confirmation. The man on the other side was just confused out of his mind. "P... pardon me, miss?"

[Smiley]

Now it hurt even harder to just see her disregard the need to have friends just like that. A guy like him certainly knew that it was a defense mechanism, but how could he get through to her? This was not his specialty, the delicate issues of someone's mind. Bucket's talent and personality lied in his ability to bring himself and others up, pump them up and send their confidence and energy into the skies.

This.. was not something he could fix with words, though at least, he figured he could be nice to her and let her have fun, so that he could become her friend.

"Here, the poncho." The big guy gave it right back to her, a smile showing on his face once she asked him where he got the "steel dress" and why was he still wearing his "piece", which the fishman assumed to be the bucket on his head. Since she mentioned an orphanage, he had assumed by now that she hadn't been born in the fishman island.

"Oh, I got that dress by sinking the ship of some rich dude and stealing it! And when it comes to this piece, it's actually my head!"

To show for this, the curve of the anchor in his face slowly opened to reveal a jagged, angler-fish like mouth, with nothing visible to the inside but darkness. In time, however, a whole bunch of thin tentacles wormed out, pointing themselves at Pheebs before retreating back inside, with the big man closing his mouth.

"I'm a Pearly Nautilus fishman! This piece is actually the shell that protects my more fragile parts, like my tentacles and eyes."

Explanations given, he was soon left giggling to himself once she asked for what was basically a shipment of friters, being quick to push her back just a slight bit, looking at the confused salesman. "Just three friters for her, sorry about that."

Turning to Phoebe, he decided that he had to explain how to actually order it, already having realized that sh ewas not good at maths - or that smart either, though that might just be because she's an orphan who was likely never educated once in her life. "You gotta come here every day and ask for the friters, silly. Or go to other places and eat whatever food you want, that money will last you for a long time."

Bucket himself didn't ask for any friters - the concept of eating any fish creature being deeply troubling to him for some reason, even though it was perfectly natural and part of the "food chain" thing that he learned at school.
That's why he limited himself to all sorts of greeneries and land animals, at least he didn't feel weird eating that.

[pepsi]

She had a double take at the true face of Bukbuk under the bucket. "I don't remember any fishman being that gross, but whatevs."

Her lips transitioned into a pout when he stopped her and tried to explain to her how to sensibly make a request. She crossed her arms; "I don't wanna come back here every day..." she mumbled, under her breath. The pout immediately turned to a much more amicable smile when the food was actually handed to her. She went to bite one immediately, and yelped: too hot to bite into immediately. "Careful, miss, they're very hot!" the old man behind the frying pan was something halfway between mortified and amused.

Phoebe kept going back at it, and burned her lips just a cuple more times before understanding that she was supposed to blow on them. With her mouth slightly hurting, she turned to Bucket and said: "Whuh? Yhu dwnt owdw any fw yhuhsf?"
She forgot to swallow her food before talking; she quickly realised that, and corrected her mistake. "What? You didn't order any for yourself?" she asked, translating from Phoebe to common tongue. It was surprising to her: after all, it was his money.

"Big Bucket..." she started, after the fritters were gone, "... there's a toy shop 'round the corner. Can we go to the toy shop?" Her eyes were actually a little bit brighter, thanks to her tummy full with food. Little did she know, the toy shop had recently closed.

[Smiley]

Pride-crushing aside after being called a "gross fishman" by someone like her, Bucket found the little funny gremlin to be quite, well, funny, burning herself several times without even thinking of blowing on the food with all the times she burned herself, at the same time that she tried to actually ask him why wasn't he eating, even though it was "his" money.

"Well, they are made out of fishes and I'm not comfortable with eating fishes or any animal that comes from the sea. It's a personal thing, it's nothing important, new small friend." Bucket assured her, not trying to pet her this time, since his pride was still verifiably destroyed by being called gross.


In the meantime, they had more important things to focus on, namely the fact that Phoebe wanted to go to this "toy shop" which, as he let her lead the way, realized quite quickly that it had been closed - recently so, since he tried to peer through one of the blinds, realizing that there was still a lot of toys inside. Bucket knew that, with it being closed, all that stuff would likely be either trashed or sold off to some rich leech that would just stockpile those - or give them to a child that didn't need it, or worse, try to re-sell it at a much higher rate.
"Oh dear, it seems that those silly shopkeeps are here right now! Let's just take the toys and leave the money." Bucket suggested, raising his right, huge arm, thrusting it against the door in a simple, yet quite powerful punch - not as strong as his tile crushing punches, since he didn't take even a moment to prepare, however, enough to get that thing off of its hinges.

"Go at it, you can buy all the toys here with the money you got!" Bucket assured her, letting her go in first before he entered, making sure to stay close to the exit to make sure that no one would interrupt her.