Post by Jade on Mar 21, 2023 11:33:18 GMT -5
On a certain island, in the New World…
A tattooed hand rose, fingers outstretched and hooked inward. A swirling, transparent ball sprung into existence underneath the man’s palm and began to expand outward. “Room-!”BANG
His arm was pushed back suddenly by the force of the shot - then it dropped to the man’s side, much like his other, similarly bloodied arm. He grit his teeth and glared upward at the towering silhouette of the man responsible for putting him in this situation.
“Kachachacha!” The figure shifted, head tilting dangerously forward on an elongated neck - until the wicked ovular grin of the fishman was visible, his pointy ‘stache, goatee, and teeth almost pushed up into his prey’s face. “What’s the matter? Feeling tired? Maybe starting to see that darkness creep in around the edges of your vision?”
“Seems you’ve got things under control here, ‘Doc’,” came a voice from the fishman’s side. A scruffy man wearing a maroon suit under the white coat of a Marine officer sidled up alongside him, hand outstretched. “Think I’ll be heading out. You just hand him off to my boys once you wrap up - but first, I think you’ve got something for me…?”
The fishman rolled his eyes, but stood upright and produced a neat stack of beri from the breast of his finely-tailored suit jacket. “Of course, of course. Pleasure doing business with you fine gentlemen, as always,” he said. The Marine pocketed the money and retreated, as the fishman rolled his wrist to dismissively wave the officer off. “Now, where were we…? Ah, right, right. Well, from one doctor to another, here’s my professional opinion of your situation, Law…!”
As he spoke, men wearing Marine uniforms moved into position around him in order to cut off any escape routes the young pirate could have taken. Though as Law sat there, in a small pool of his own blood, thoughts of escape were dashed by a moment of recognition. Two figures had moved into position on either side of the fishman - the woman wearing an almost scandalously short maid's dress and goggles, smoking a cigarette, and the man wearing a puffy yellow jacket over his immense frame, with his hair, sideburns, and beard sticking outward from his head.
Both were familiar to the Surgeon of Death, and both seemed to be taking pleasure in the circumstances of their reunion.
“It's time to give up!” The fishman’s neck swung around, letting one bulging eye really get a good look at the terrorized man below him. “The World Government ain’t going to protect some ex-Shichibukai - and you can’t even run off to the Underworld, not with Joker after your head too!”
“...” Law slumped backward. The look of horrified recognition was gone, replaced by a wry smirk. “So he’s the one pulling your strings…?”
“Hah! Hardly,” the fishman waved the accusation off. “Sure, the news about your title being revoked came in from that mutual acquaintance, but he’s not the one with the reward I’m interested in…!”
The first of the Carrier Bats circled over the sole surviving ship. In the waters around it, the blasted, half-sunken hulls and shattered masts of the fleet it had sunk still bobbed in the water, yet to be claimed fully by the sea…
Another bat popped up and over the clouds, panting from the exertion of its steep ascent. After regaining its bearings, the bat twisted about and continued onward, toward the castle that looked like it had been plucked out of a picture book on the landmass drifting through the sea of clouds…
The third of the Carrier Bats swooped through a skyline of towering hotels, fluttering about until it spotted its destination. It dived down toward the open balcony of the penthouse suite and made to fly into the room proper - only to find its wings would no longer move, stuck in an immense web…
A fourth flew haphazardly through an immense structure on a nightless island, all glittering lights and loud noises as people gambled away their fortunes day in and day out. The little fellow was quite lost, and was thus pleased to find what seemed like a tree to hang on for a little rest, growing right beside one of the blackjack tables…
And, finally, one last bat arrived at its destination. Wings worked overtime to hover over a stack of papers atop a desk, allowing the little creature to drop the sealed envelope on top of the papers. The man sitting there did not acknowledge the creature or the delivery, not until he moved to place the paper he had been signing on top of the stack and found the envelope blocking his perfected routine…“Hm…?”
Some time later, at New Marineford…“So, they’re in this room?”
“That’s right,” Vice Admiral Tsuru answered as she led the mustachioed reporter down the hall. Two men in uniform saluted her, then hurried to open the two immense doors the pair had been moving toward. As the doors slowly swung open, her eyes moved over to the fidgety man beside her. “Just remember to take the lens cover off this time, and you’ll do fine.”
The reporter looked anywhere but at Tsuru as his cheeks turned a rosy color. “Ah - r-right you are, Vice Admiral…”
The doors came to a sudden stop, pulled open as far as they could be, and the men fell into position, at attention. Tsuru walked past them without a word while the reporter followed a step behind - and he nearly jumped out of his skin as the doors shut heavily once they had entered.
The six individuals gathered on and around the immense curved couch, sat toward the back of the room, carried on - most oblivious to the new arrivals. The man, with a big mane of hair and an ornate saber left to lean against the couch beside him, was leaning forward with his hands on his knees, grinning wildly at what by all accounts seemed to be a tree that had taken root on the couch. “Come on, out with it! You’ve gotta have some great stories from back then!”
The tree shifted - no tree at all, but rather an immense man covered in what looked to be various pieces of the forest. A huge mushroom cap cast a shadow that partially obscured most of his facial features, while a scruffy beard served to hide almost all of the rest. That left only a single, harsh eye to drift over toward the leonine man addressing him. “… Pass…”
“C’mon, Sir Yukon, humor the man!” The long-necked fishman, dressed to the nines in a neat suit, jacket worn over his shoulders, playfully elbowed the tree-like man beside him - only to retreat in on himself as Yukon’s harsh glare was leveled at him. He bounced back quickly, however, looking about at the others there around the couch eagerly. “I mean, no harm in getting to know each other. You’re with me, right, Lady Titania?”
The addressed woman, sleeping atop what looked to be a fluffy cloud supporting her entire body that floated several feet above the back of the couch, pried an eye open at the sound of her name. She let it fall on the lanky fishman, grinning up at her… Then closed her eye and fell straight back to sleep without a word.
Behind the other side of the couch, another woman leaned forward on top of the huge furnishing, one arm left to rest on the couch’s back while the other was raised so she could twirl a finger through the hair covering one of her eyes. “I don’t know - I think Zarach and Morrie have the right of it,” she said. Though her words were addressing the group, it was clear to anyone paying attention that she was addressing only one person: The man sitting on the very opposite end of the couch from the leonine man, almost directly under her. “I think we should take some time to get to know each other better…”
The final person sitting on the couch - an almost painfully average adult man, wearing a smart business suit, darkened glasses, and a newspaper-print tie - sat in either blissful or intentional ignorance of the implications of her suggestion. A rare moment of quiet passed before he cleared his throat. The eyes of all but Titania, still asleep on her cloud, turned to him just in time for the man to raise and tilt his head toward the two individuals who had come to a stop across the room from them. “Good afternoon, Vice Admiral. Is this everyone accounted for, then?”
“It is,” Tsuru answered. “The Fleet Admiral is preoccupied at the moment, so I’ll be the one making sure you youngsters stay in line.”
The man nodded his head, though he made no effort to hide a frown. “Hm… Snubbed by the boss on our first day. Not exactly the best first impression…”
The reporter looked over to Tsuru. When she finally took notice, she tilted her head forward and extended an arm in an invitation for the man to get on with it. He smiled, then turned his attention back to the men and women on the couch. “Hello! I’m Attach, reporter with the World Economy Journal. Thank you all for the opportunity to cover this story - I can’t even begin to tell you how thrilled our president is!” When the men and women on the couch didn’t respond, he cleared his throat and did his best to continue on without letting the lack of response rattle him. “S-so, if you’ll all just… Take up a comfortable position there on the couch, maybe strike a pose… Well, you’ll all be on the front page of the paper, you know? After all…”
He took a step back and raised his camera up into position as the various individuals on the couch settled into their positions.“This is how the world will be introduced to the Daibukai!”
(Art by risaka.)
