One again, twisting the minds of people everywhere, the crack-filled Fangirling/Fanboying thread over on the General One Piece section has produced another masterpiece. For random people who just stumbled onto this, feel free to read along and comment, although it might not make as much sense if you haven't taken a look at said thread. Then again this stuff doesn't make sense to begin with XP A round robin between me and Gypsy. Trapped, Charmed, Mette, everyone, jump in already! The more the merrier.
So, here we go guys. Hopefully this will keep the cluster and page count down on the main thread down a bit, although I can't promise anything XD To everyone who hasn't given me their bio yet…. grabby hands I need material to work with people! <3 Ok, so for those who haven't seen it, I've made a list of the known member so far:
! “Tyrant Queen” Gypsy- Head of what is renowned as the most dangerous, despite being relatively small, group, the Ensenadas and their branch family the Fedoras. However they are loyal to their own and to their oaths.
Known members:
”Crimson Diva” Nia- She’s the singer for Gypsy’s Midnight Club who was once a top assassin and dancer and one of Gypsy’s favorites. Before she stepped down from the frontlines she was known as the “Bewitching Lorelei” for enticing and destroying her targets. She refuses to dance for anyone anymore for unknown reasons (fufufu. Secrets, shadowed pasts, deceit. giddy I’m having fun)
”Silent Death” Piratemarimo-A talented spy and assassin for Gypsy (and other allies, if they can pay her price) who’s known to charge steeply for anyone outside her immediate circle of acquaintances. She’s one of the top, but under Kidd and Killer’s reach of power. She likes to take calculated risks and is enjoying a game of cat and mouse with Crocodile at the time. She an Mette also have a bit of a friendly rivalry/competition whenever they meet.
Kidd- No intro needed really XD One of Gypsy’s main bodyguards
Killer- The same as Kidd
”Bloodhound of the Queen” Charmed- Admires and is viciously loyal to Gypsy. Most families and members disregard her due to the fact that she has little experience in combat and is often too emotional. Since she’s Gypsy’s favorite, no one touches her. However, the last family to directly threaten Gypsy was said to have collapsed on itself from within after a visit from the Bloodhound. In reality a master of espionage and sabotage, when properly motivated she can do far more psychological and internal damage than any fighter. Of course, under normal circumstances she never hits that point.
”Reaper” Meta- The doorman for the Midnight Club. As such, most people don’t think much of him. However, what they fail to understand is that he’s the only one keeping people from getting in. And with all the killers, thieves, and scoundrels that try to force their way in, not a single one has ever made it. Or was seen again.
Former members:
"Angel of Death" Skyrius- Formerly the consigliere, advisor, of the Ensenadas. One of the frontline fighters and the first to run into a shoot out. Tactician and head of information, dangerous, unpredictable, and certifiably insane. It's said that meeting the Angel of Death is a one way ticket to hell, the only difference is whether or not she ends up going with you, given her disregard for life. Claims to only want to alleviate her boredom, but never breaks promises. Had a falling out with Gypsy for yet unknown reasons.
! ”Empress of Ruin” Mia: Head of the Vindice (avenger in Italian), the largest criminal syndicate in the city. Unlike Gypsy, Mia takes in almost anyone who’s got the determination to make it and holds countless allies, ceasefires, and treaties of different sorts. No one attacks it because if the family were to actually fall, the ensuing chaos would be impossible for any one person to reign in.
Known Members:
”Calamity Blaze” Trapped- The second-in-command for the Vindice, and in all honesty the one that does the most work. She has a strained relationship with the boss, but underneath the snapping and kicks to the head, respects Mia. She and Piratemarimo are sworn siblings, which is the direct reason for the alliance between Mia’s group and Gypsy’s. She’s nicknamed the “demon” by her underlings for her no nonsense attitude (due mostly in part to Mia’s pushing everything onto her). She no longer joins the frontline often, due to the clerical work. But when she does, the whole fight goes to hell. Her nickname “Calamity Blaze” was from those days.
”Black Wind” Metteminne- One of the top hitman in Mia’s group. He’s rather laid back and prefers not to go through the trouble of most missions. He will, however, jump out of bed at Trapped’s name, which is how most subordinates manage to get him out in the first place. When he gets serious, people start running. He likes to compete with Piratemarimo whenever they cross paths, but they aren't really antagonistic.
”Poisonous Blossom” Masha- An elite spy that specializes in infiltration. She has a 100% success streak. It’s said that not a single one of the deaths she designs can ever be linked to her, making it impossible for anyone to know if they are a target, or pin anything to her.
”Anelace of the Arbiter” Eli- (note: Anelace is a double edged short sword) The one NO one ever wants to tango with. The "Anelace", sword that judges enemy and ally alike. The “Judgment” of the mafia family. Those who break their vows or the commandments answer to her. None escape. But since she often has no work to do, she’s actually quite fun-loving outside of her job. While she's officially allied with the Vindice, her judgment extends to all families. If she comes after you, you write your will up and pray for a quick death.
Former Members:
”Lucid Dame/Aureate Shadow” Pervy- A free flying, unbound informant. There’s no vault she can’t break, no reputation she can’t ruin. Her prices are steep and she only deals with people that interest her. As an informant, she’s the Aureate Shadow. As an assassin of the past, she’s the Lucid Dame. It was said that no one matched her marksmanship, but she disappeared from the battlefield and her family without any warning nor known reason.
! "Lynchpin" Bart- The unallied, uncontrolled king of the black market. His business lies with whoever pays the most, but his favor lies with those he personally takes a shine to. He's rather cryptic, though often seems not serious. Most people who meet him agree that there's no way of telling what he's truly thinking. Currently he's taken an interest in Roger's will, but not the will itself, but rather the vacuum of power and competition that will emerge from it.
! "Thousand Webs" Alice- A former detective, and before that a freelance journalist. After she was wrapped up within the folds of the town of sins and lies, she quickly adapted and transformed her keen sense of insight into an all encompassing web of knowledge throughout the city. It's said that nothing happens in the town without her knowledge. When people need references, connections, or information it's almost guaranteed that Alice will have it. But unlike informants, none of her knowledge is for sale, and she only gives out information in the interest of preserving balance….most of the time. Sometimes she just gives out information to start chaos as a giant "screw you" to Bart, who's her rival.
! "The Doctor" Cyber-Robin- Sky and some others just call him C-R most of the times, but Cyber is in charge of one of the largest medical facilities in the town, or rather, one of the largest hospitals that actually looks after mafia members without turning them into the cops. Most of his patients are rich, corrupt, or both. As such, he's developed a rather dry sense of humor to deal with the type of people he does. You wouldn't know it from the first glance, but he's also quite the pervert, and tends to make inappropriate jokes. Rumor is he used to be a fighter on the streets before an injury took him out of commission for good and he disappeared. His nickname from that time is unknown. (Although Local and anyone who knows Doctor Who should appreciate his current unoriginal nickname as well XP)
! And being the largest group, Mia also has a bunch of misc. OP characters in her family.
! Ok, and some misc. stuff since we haven’t come up with nicknames for all the OP characters yet XD
! Crocodile: Head of Baroque Works, an ambitious and powerful group that’s been picking fights with many of the established families. They’ve recently come to a temporary ceasefire of sorts with Gypsy’s group after Mia got particularly miffed at the destruction of one of her favorite hangouts during one of their fights.
All of Baroque works is under Croco’s command.
! Monkey D. Luffy- Head of the Straw Hat crew, the smallest but undoubtedly most destructive family in existence. They tend to stay out of major fights and just enjoy themselves, but if any of their allies are attacked, it’s hell. Currently un-allied to Gypsy, Mia, or Crocodile.
! Trafalgar Law- King of Hearts. More information to come as Gypsy writes it XD
! Etc etc.
People who's descriptions I have. If you're on this list with a "?" after it, I need your character's description. Remember, you can make up your own or base it off of your appearance in real life. It's your choice.
! Gypsy-
Hair color: Dark chocolate brown (I like that color XD)
Hair style: Until the mid-back in the back, styled in the front (I have a pretty good mental image for this)
Eye color: Brown with gold flecks
Yes, you can trade in your fedora, since you're the leader of the group anyways XD
Piratemarimo-
Hair color: Obsidian (which is this really lucid black, it's really pretty and it shines blue and purple in the right light)
Hair style: A classy diagonal straight cut at shoulder level (bangs to about halfway down your face in length ok?)
Eye color: Emerald
Nia-
Hair color: Red (I imagine it to be this fiery color that shines orange and yellow in the light)
Hair style: Ponytail on the right, flows to mid back length (seems about right)
Eye color: Green
Charmed-
Hair color: Dark brown with blue and purple streaks (why not both :D)
Hair style: Straight sheetlike hair until the shoulder
Eye color: Heliodor (It's beautiful gold-green color and it'll help me differentiate you from Piratemarimo.)
Extra: Freckles on her face
Trapped-
Hair color: Dark reddish brown, more red than brown (somewhat like the color of rust?)
Hair style: Long hair to the lower back, relatively straight with waves at the bottom
Eye color: Unknown by all but Piratemarimo and Mia, wears tinted glasses
Meta-
Hair color: Dark brown
Hair style: Wavy (I see it to be just above shoulder length in my mind)
Eye color: Blue
Mette-
Hair color: Gympsum (another pretty color that's a mix of yellow, brown, and red. You can look it up to see)
Hair style: The sort of spiky bangs in the back
Eye color: Agate blue (it's this wonderful, striking blue color with white highlights. It's certainly hypnotizing XD)
Mia-
Hair color: Midnight black (it's a real life hair color that's really rare. sighs It's so pretty, I'm always jealous >___<)
Hair style: Slicked back (I need to draw this, but I have the perfect image in my mind)
Eye color: Brown
Masha-
Hair color: Warm, light beige caramel
Hair style: Medium length bob cut with curls (sorta like the Marilyn Monroe style, but wavier)
Eye color: Hazel (which is grey with green in real life <3)
Eli-
Hair color: Platinum blonde
Hair style: Very very long hair, attached in a loose braid.
Eye color: Silvery-grey
Extra: Medium size and flat chest
C-R-
Hair color: Red
Hair style: Just hair
Eye color: Green
Pervy-
Hair color: Honey blonde
Hair style: Long wavy hair that curls naturally at the bottom (there, no more curling problems XD)
Eye color: Green
Alice
Hair color: Red. Or something like lilac-pinkish.
Hair style: See pic. Bangs to just above the eyes and mostly straight to the shoulder with slight waves
Eye color: Blue, lighter in the center and darker on the edges Sai
Hair color: Brown, with tints of gold
Hair style: Up to my waist, up in a ponytail, with two long bangs on the sides of my face. (like my chibi)
Eye color: Faded/grey-ish blue-green
Bart-
Hair color: Brownish-red
Hair style: David Lynch like, if you know what his hair looks like
Eye color: Deep brown
! Etc etc. I don't have anyone else's information, so even if I didn't list your name here, you know who you are stares I just got lazy XD There's a lot of you.
! Sorry for all the gemstone and crystal references. I tend to take colors from those since I had a mineralogy class in middle school I loved. Plus gemstones make for wonderful colors that exist in real life.
After digging through 30+ pages, I found Gypsy's original theme for the fic XD Finally. Other themes in general as well. I'm putting them all under one spoiler tag to keep this a bit neater.
! The theme of the fic in general
zv1k8aTpwqU
! The theme of the "town of sins and lies" the story takes place in
h6RSR1cNwU0
! And here's the BGM for the aftermath of a violent fight that I posted….somewhere in that thread.
VhUNEtV-nPc&p=8EC2C3A7713909B2&playnext=1&index=17
Alright, now for the actual fic.
Part 1 by Gypsy
! The curvy shadow in the frosted glass meant only trouble for detective Mr. 2. He knew this, he wasn’t dumb. When she opened the door smoothly, like drawing a curtain, he thanked it all he wasn’t smoking a cigarette. If he had, he’d of swallowed in shock. Purple dress practically pained on and wrapped in a boa, he made mental note to drag out this case to keep this eye candy around.
! The woman swung her bang onto her shoulder. “You Mr. 2?”
! “I am.” He put a thumb to his fedora. “You have any serious business with me?”
! “Do I look like a Girl Scout or somethin‘?” She sat in the busted seat across from him. “How good are you?”
! Jabbing a thumb to the wall to his left, she slickly rolled her neck to study the odd wallpaper. Newspaper clippings and magazines covered the wall, yellowed and fresh, it was obvious they stated a high success rate. Sly smirk forming on her lips, she looked back to the detective.
! Mr. 2 pulled out a notepad. “Name?”
! “Skyrius.”
! He looked from under his eyebrows. “Your name is Skyrius?”
! “And I’m to believe that your surname is a number?”
! “Touché.” Scribbling down the false title, he tapped the pencil on the desk. “Well? Whom I catching? A dame up on your man? Or perhaps he ran off with your cash and you want me to find where and why?”
! “Not entirely.” She took out a cigarette case for her tiny bag and looked at him for permission. When he nodded, she stick on between her bright red lips. “Actually, I’m in need a team.”
! “Team?”
! “A duo, if you will.” Smoke blew elegantly from her mouth. Mr. 2 gulped. “Heard you’re fairly good at disguises.”
! “The best you’ll ever meet.” He said, removing his hat.
! Skyrius smiled, smoke between her fingers. “Tell me, Mr. 2, how do you feel about parties?”
! Dragging his fingers through his dark hair, he leaned back. “Can’t say I throw many, but I’ll attend them. Why?”
! “I was invited to one by,” She took a photo from her bag and threw it on the table. “This woman.”
! Mr. 2 whistled as he studied the picture. “Quite a looker.”
! “Her name is Gypsy.”
! “She gets a code name too?”
! “We don’t even know her real name,” Collecting the picture by dragging it to her view with her ling nails, she studied it. “As in my friends and I. But we’re in need of information about her.”
! “What kind?”
! The woman dipped her head to one side and smiled. “Blackmail.”
! “I’ve done thousands. What do you want? Love affair? Secret occupation?”
! “Just some dirt.”
! “Why?”
! Exhaling more smoke in thought, she shook her head. “Nothing you’d need to worry about.”
! “So…what are you in need of my assistance for?”
! “I need you to attend this party with me and coach me on how to collect what I need.”
! “I see.” He looked the woman from head to toe. “And you’ll pay me?”
! “Only a foolish man would want to be paid to attend a party with a woman like me.” She ashed on top of the picture of her friend. “Double what your usual is.”
! “That’s a lot of dough.” He smirked. “You got the upfront.”
! “Persistent, aren’t you?” She threw a stack of bills on the table. “You must know, she won’t come easy.”
! “They never do.” He licked his thumb to count the bills.
! “She’s got this man.” Crossing her legs, she sat back in thought. “Big guy. Hell, it’s even hard for her close friends to get close to her without him grimacing over head.”
! “Does he have a name?”
! Her lips parted to a slick smile. “You’re so rude. But yes, we call him Kidd.”
! “Kidd?” He raised his black brow. “That’s gotta be a code name.”
! “Not at all. Plus he’s got this…acquaintance…I wouldn’t even say they’re friends. His name is Killer.”
! “Killer?”
! “And if that’s not enough to make you shake, those two have digits on their wanted posters to send your expensive fantasies to the moon.”
! Mr. 2 chuckled deeply. “You underestimate me.”
! “I certainly hope I do.” She grinned. “Because my prospects are so high.”
Part 2 by Skyrius
! Smooth jazz music flowed across the dimly lit room, like water rolling off of a worn down boulder. The low cello notes and pinging piano alone accompanied the hushed lyrics of the single singer on stage. The crowds around conversed, laughed, teased, blackmailed, threatened in hushed tones. Here was a den of lies and hopes, a facade of geniality covering the true face- a gathering of the corrupt, the strong, and the rich. From the outside, the entrance was a dirty wooden door, at the bottom of a flight of stairs that led to a dimly lit basement, only wide enough to let a single person in at a time.
! Once inside, the only light source was the myriad of overhead globes that glared down on the woman singer on stage, clad in flowing red dress, neither modest nor revealing. The diva in red, from her fiery locks to the blood ruby heels that clicked softly as she walked, red satin scarf hanging from one side. As she descended, slow step by step, the light followed her off of the stage into the crowds, the music never ceasing. The round tables covered with black velvet and each adorned with a single bottle of the finest wine lined the circumference of the half moon shaped room.
! In an unlit corner, rustling so softly that even those less than an inch in front didn't notice until they had been sent sprawling head over heel from behind, was the sound of fabric. The chatter in the surrounding radius immediately ceased. Two men, clad in traditional suits and heart stopping glares walked forwards. The patrons immediately stepped to the side, whispering only once they were out of hearing range. Kidd and Killer. Which meant. All heads turned as a single clop of an immaculately designed heel resounded. The woman walked through the crowds meeting no eyes, the velvet gold flaked gaze fixed on some distant figure those around could only guess at. Her confident strides and freezing air gave the impression of a tyrant queen, as cold and beautiful as ice and would burn insubordination with the heat of hellfire, deigning to walk among the peasants. The feel that both intimidated and enraged those around, which is why her security was the best there was.
! A low vibrato resounded across the low rise ceiling as the song finished. A single shot rang out. The newcomers screamed, diving for cover while the veterans chuckled to themselves, wondering what fool was suicidal enough to fire on the “Tyrant Queen” on her own turf. Gypsy stopped, eyes closed in disdain.
! “Hey hey, little queen. What’s wrong?” a drawl came from her right. A middle aged man, with a slightly ruffled trench coat and tattered hat held a pistol to her temple. His clothes were stained from mud and rain, indicating he had just come in from the downpour outside. Instead of answering, Gypsy only turned her head to glare at the doorman, the silent demand to know how this cur had been allowed in. Meta, used to her refined temper tantrums and accusations, simply chuckled.
! “He knew the password.”
! “Hey hey hey. Come on now, you’re ignoring me babe?” the man to her right perked up again, drawing his face closer, close enough so she could feel his breath. Unforgivable.
! “Nia.”
! The word hadn’t even finished resounding when there was a sharp gasp and gurgle as the man lurched backward, a red satin length of cloth wound firmly around his neck.
! “You’re one hundred years too early to be approaching the queen just yet,” the soft timber of the diva in red practically cascaded off of the walls. She stood behind him, having not made a single noise in her approach. With half lidded, uninterested eyes she pulled the blood red scarf and the man went limp.
! “I hope you didn’t just sully my party with such an ugly death,” Gypsy warned, finally looking at the man for the first time.
! Releasing the cloth with the grace of a dance, Nia stepped back.
! “Of course not, he’s simply unconscious. Kid and Killer can take care of the disposal.” She curtsied and turned back to the stage.
! “Nia.” She turned her head at her name. “Wonderful singing as usual.” To the crowds around it wouldn’t be noticeable, but she knew the queen would notice. Giving the smallest of smiles, she bowed her head and returned to the stage. Already the guests had begun chattering amongst themselves. They would need a distraction again.
! “Tch. You did that on purpose.” Another voice rang out from the shadows, startling those around. Gypsy turned to the speaker, smiling for the first time of the night, albeit in an almost smug manner.
! “I simply didn’t want blood staining my new carpet,” she said with a lilted tone. The cold gleam of steel flashed off of the semi-automatic pistol hanging from her belt as Piratemarimo walked into the light, twirling her black fedora on her index finger in a bored manner.
! “I had it covered.”
! “I know you did.” Gypsy turned to leave.
! “Wait,” the spy stopped and spoke clearly, “You’re aware that we have another turncoat on our hands?”
! “Oh? Another fool has run sniveling to Skyrius?” Gypsy responded with no intention to turn, and her tone of voice made it amply clear, “Deal with it would you dear?”
! Green eyes stared at the back of the Tyrant Queen, as if trying to determine something unknown. A sigh.
! “Fine. You better have a fancy restaurant reserved for me when I get back.” The swish of a trench coat, the slam of a door, and the echoing blues of a new song.
Part 3 by Skyrius
For the record of mafia chain of command:
Boss (Don, or Capo Famiglia)
Underboss (Capo Bastone)
Advisor (Consigliere) These three make up the Administration, the ruling panel.
Captain (Caporegime)
Etc
! Piratemarimo paused for a second, staring out from under the alcove which the entrance to the Midnight Club, one of Gypsy’s many exclusive gigs, was located. The rain hadn’t let up a bit. If anything, it seemed to be getting harsher. A sigh escaped her lips for the second time that evening.
! “I should’ve charged her more. Maybe a fancy restaurant and a date with that Crocodile guy…” she paused and almost giggled, remembering the look of surprise on the rival mafia leader’s face when she had him at a stalemate, pistol at his forehead while all his lackeys aimed at her. Ten to one. She’d had worse odds stacked against her before. But apparently he’d never been in a situation where someone had managed to get past all defenses before. She blew out her breath, watching it freeze in the air, becoming visible. There was a sort of heated appeal to a game of cat and mouse, especially when one wasn’t sure who was which.
! The spy fingered her fedora, lighted atop her obsidian hair, as dark as the cloudy night sky. It would get ruined in this weather.
! “I guess she’ll owe me a new hat as well,” she decided and sprang out into the rain, running with unordinary balance in the slick conditions. The sooner this was over, the better.
–------------
“You’re sure about this?” An exasperated and strained voice floated through the arched hallway. Trapped had just closed the door marking the end of her latest meeting when some new recruit had stumbled in, breathless, babbling about some breach in security. THIS was why she was against using fresh meat as guards to any information at all.
! “Yes sir! I mean ma’am! I mean-“
! “Stop it.” Her voice cut in, cold and annoyed. The recruit bit his lower lip to stop himself immediately. “Yes or no.”
! “Yes…”
! She sighed, putting her fingers to her temple. There hadn’t been this many problems since she stepped down from the frontlines.
! “Send the Black Wind in to deal with it,” she answered curtly, turning heel. Off schedule already because of all these delays. “Tell him to report back to me afterwards.”
! “Eh…? Sir Metteminne….? But isn’t that overkill for something like th-“
! “Did I ask for your opinion?” Trapped stopped, whirling around to face the poor lackey.
! “N-No ma’am!” he jumped, straightening and trying not to meet her glare.
! “You’re dismissed.” Her tone of voice made it painfully clear that if he wasn’t gone within the next five seconds, there was going to be a hole through his head. The greenhorn ran. Trapped sighed, putting her hand to her forehead to slow the coming headache. Why was she in charge of all this again? After all, shouldn’t the leader deal with these sorts of things?
! Laughter rang out from behind her, one she recognized immediately. Speak of the devil. The second-in-command spun around to meet the leader of the largest mafia organization in this town of sins and lies.
! “Working hard aren’t we?” Mia laughed, patting her on the shoulder. Trapped could feel a vein in her temple throbbing. The “Empress of Ruin”, head of the largest criminal syndicate, was in reality a talented but extremely lazy, carefree, troublemaker who liked to put things off. She glared at her boss.
! “I’m sorry? Working hard? Isn’t that what you should be doing?” she asked in a cutting tone. If anyone else had spoken like that, they would have been dead in a heartbeat. But Trapped was an exception, partially because she was the second in command, but mostly because Mia tended to push everything onto her.
! “Now, now,” Mia continued lightheartedly, “If you keep stressing yourself out like that you’ll get white hairs.” She patted the coppery, sandstone colored tresses as if to prove her point.
! It was all Trapped could do not to explode in frustration.
! “And who exactly is the cause of said stress?” her voice was strained, “In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve had two breaches in high level security in the last week alone. That’s inexcusable. I keep telling you not to let the new recruits-“
! “Oh don’t worry about that,” Mia cut in patronizingly, as if talking to a child, “None of that is actually useful you know. It’d be much easier just to keep everything in a list. I don’t know why you go through all the trouble of making those fancy little combinations.”
! Something snapped.
! “It’s because you never take your work seriously!” A jump kick, a crash, a broken wall. Down at the end of the hallway the passing members sighed. The boss’s daily skirmish with the Capo Bastone, the Underboss and second-in-command, had started. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish who really was in charge here.
! Past the hallway, down a flight of stairs, and two left turns later, a seriously shaken and nervous new recruit hesitated outside of a pair of large, ivory lined double doors. He had been sent to get Sir Metteminne….but there were rumors. That the last man to disturb him had disappeared without a trace, or that bloodcurdling screams emanated from his room at night. He raised his hand to knock, then lowered it. If he went back like this, Trapped would kill him anyways. Taking a deep breath and preparing his will in his head, the recruit knocked hard three times.
! Silence.
! He cautiously pushed on the door, which slid inwards effortlessly, unlocked. Peeking his head through the crack, he saw a high rise canopy bed with a large bundle firmly tangled in the middle.
! “Er….Sir Metteminne?” he called out, hesitatingly. The bundle grumbled and rolled. A sweatdrop.
! “Sir, it’s the middle of the day already,” he tried reasoning, but the bundle simply rolled further away.
! Of course, there were the other rumors as well. That the fearsome and deadly Black Wind was…a lazy bed worm who wouldn’t leave the comfort of his room for anything short of Armageddon. Well, it was worth a try.
! “Miss Trapped says there will be consequences if she’s forced to come down here to get you herself.”
! The bundle shot up, hitting a low hanging beam in the process. Metteminne emerged from within layers of tangled blankets, rubbing his head. He was having such a wonderful nap, but conditioning had practically made it an instinct for him to jump out of bed the moment Trapped’s name was mentioned. The reasons were left to the imagination.
! The recruit faltered. Sometimes the antics in this place felt more like a circus than a criminal organization. But then again, the second-in-command wasn’t called a demon for no reason. He took the moment of confusion to tiptoe away from the door and back up the stairs as fast as he could.
! That was an hour ago.
Piratemarimo melted into the shadows behind her target, who was frantically trying to dial a number on the payphone. There wasn’t a single soul besides them out in this torrential rain. She slid her hand over her pistol, instinctively and automatically checking the holster, safety, and dryness to ensure that it would fire. Wet gunpowder was a pain in the ass. There were other ways to kill someone, but it was so much more of a hassle.
! She had her eyes trained so intensely on the figure ahead of her that it was only years of experience that warned her body ahead of time. Almost by instinct, she dived out of the way at the sound of a gunshot. The shattering of glass rang out and her target slumped down to the ground, dead. She whirled, body moving on its own, hand reaching and pulling her gun just as her eyes found the source.
! The moon poked out from a hole in the overcast skies just long enough to illuminate two people, the cold gleam of two gun barrels pointed parallel to each other.
! “Oh? This is a surprise,” Mette said lightly, though in a rather bored tone, as if he wanted to go back to bed, “I thought the Queen’s little Bloodhound would be the first to jump at the chance to impress her mistress.”
! The Silent Death didn’t answer in words. A shot echoed but Mette had already jumped down. Landing on a windowsill with precise timing and balance, he held his hands up, gun still swinging from his left hand.
! “Woah, woah, hey there,” he waved, motioning, “I didn’t come here to pick a fight. My job’s done. I’m just going to go home and get back to bed, kay toots?”
! Piratemarimo shrugged. She hadn’t expected to hit him.
! “Well, my job was to kill that traitor. As long as he’s dead, I don’t care.” She paused for a second and then twirled her gun, letting it fall back into its holster like an acrobatic act. Mette laughed.
! “Ok, then we’re on the same-“ he was cut off as a second bullet pierced the wall right beside his head.
! “Hey, how much was that bounty on your head again?” his adversary teased. He simply glared at her and jumped backwards through the window, which had been left open. The assassin shrugged. Her job was done. Now to go get a warm meal at a fancy restaurant and a new hat.
Part 4 by Gypsy
! Music trickled through the night club lazily. Easing in and out of conversations, all of which uneasy to Gypsy’s presence. Even the music hesitated before reaching her. Leg crossed and perched on a barstool, her eyes combed the room as she clicked her tongue.
! “…And put it on the rocks.” Kidd finished his order at the bar with a intimidating slap at the table. “Well, Queen. You look pretty blue today, what’s got you shaking on your throne?” He reached for his drink, service came fast for him these days.
! “My mood has a new color today.” She sighed and knitted her brow dramatically as he rolled her hair off her shoulder. “Black.”
! Kidd stopped the glass a inch away from his lips. “Black, huh?”
! The lady blinked slowly, tracing her thigh with the very tip of her fingernail. “Yes, and I fear that I have no way to remedy my foul frame of mind.” Piano plunked into the thoughts that raced her mind.
! This room was in a forced peace. No one dared stir too the disliking of anyone, for there could be any sorts of backstabbers and under covers at each table. Tiny tea candles were flickering shadows of drinks on to the shaking hands of guest. Eyes darting was almost a sport in this place.
! “You know what will lighten my mood a bit?” Tyrant Queen rolled he shoulder back, placing her elbow on the bar. “Martini and turn it topaz, would you?”
! Snorting, Kidd set his glass down with a clank. “Topaz combats black moods, huh?”
! “Alcohol makes anything and everything better.” She said as her crystal glass was set in her hand. “Remember that.”
! Drawing up his dark lips, he studied her for a moment. “Even Winds?”
! A smirk over the glass. “Exactly.”
! Killer leaned from his position to her left, he spoke into her neck in the deadest of whispers. “Silent Death has made her return, Queen.”
! Licking the rim of her glass, Gypsy grinned devilishly at Piratemarimo’s return. The young assassin walked up, shaking her head free of the cool drops from outside. Kidd and Killer both snickered at their underling’s appearance, while the command only calculated her overall air.
! “Your poor fedora.” She said, back of hand holding in a mocking jingle.
! Silent Death threw the hat on the bar top. “I’d like a drink, if you wouldn’t mind?”
! Anyone around the duo stopped breathing. Demanding the purchase of a drink from the Tyrant was like requesting magma from the volcanoes. But before the uneasy eyes could dart away at the bullet being driven into the brain, they’re nerves where loosened by the wind chime laugh from Tyrant Queen.
! “Order away, child.” She reached her fingers to the assistants cheek and patted it like an affectionate mother. “Mama will buy you whatever calms your nerve.”
! “Baccarat.” Silent Death told the bartender. “The glass had better the chilled!”
! “Whisky? Didn’t think you liked the taste.” Kidd craned his neck to her, rolling his glass in his hands. The intricate pattern from its cut illuminated the table from the bar lights.
! “Beat it, Kidd. If you’re going to insert your unwanted opinion.” Silent Death snapped, placing herself on a barstool.
! “Cold.” Kidd stretched his arm to table, showing an array of pistols that lined his waist under the pinstripes. “You sure you want to mess with Tyrant Queen’s number one?”
! “I don’t want any fighting at my party.” Said their barrier, while she clicked her fingers for a new drink. “This should be a happy day, don’t get so worked up, okay?” The same affectionate pat to the face, and her fiery haired underling was melted.
! Piratemarimo held her drink to the light. This caught the bulbs and her upper’s attention.
! “Drug check?”
! “With so many traitors tonight, you can’t be too careful.” She sipped it. “Now…about my payment.”
! “It’s all about what the goods are with you people.” Gypsy put her palms to the edge of the bar. “Outsiders would think you don’t enjoy working for me.”
! Downing a bit more of the Baccarat, Piratemarimo crossed her arms on the bar. “Ran into Mette.”
! Gypsy studied her assistant. “You failed to mention that in your greeting?”
! “Didn’t think it mattered. Traitor’s dead, who cares turned up.”
! “Kidd, be a dear and order me what I like.” The Tyrant Queen let her gold flecked eyes meet the green ones beside her. “It’s time for me to hear a story.”
! “Not with that one around.” Piratemarimo jabbed a thumb to Kidd, who was waving the bartender over with his glare.
! “You know Kidd’s position.”
! “Screwing the Boss?”
! Gypsy dropped the charm from her tone. “There are limits, Silent Death. That’s why me and Pretty in Pink are on such poor terms.”
! “You mean…Doflamingo?”
! “Child, when I say a code name, you best follow my lead.” The drink set in front of her was being traced by her finger. “But yes, he and I have butt heads again.”
! The assassin swallowed. “R-really?”
! “Oh, yes.” She sighed. “I’m debating whether I blow it off or…get rid of the problem entirely.” Folding her fingers beneath her chin, she looked at the bottles in the bar. Piratemarimo tapped her fingers on the bar, waiting the decision of her boss. This meant she was going to have to carry out another job, and she knew it. Her payment had better be a ride a blimp with gold lining the rim of her drinks at this point. Doflamingo had a nasty habit of turning people to do his own deeds. Though a strong will, she was weary of just how he did that.
! The nasty tug in her stomach told her she would be finding out.
Part 5 by Gypsy (I combined them together since they were short enough)
! “Where’d you pick this one up?”
! “Boss, she was snooping around the alley across the road.” Penguin shoved the teen into the dim room with the barrel of his pistol. “Said something about the Queen’s reign.”
! Trafalgar Law closed one eye, letting the other swivel at the shaking girl in the center of his office. The one lit bulb in the collection of three did no justice to help him with his visual investigation. No weapons, if she had them before, they were in that alley now. No doubt she had no idea how to use them at all, but carried it due to facsimile of her idol. “Nice hat. I forget the fedoras were a trait of Queen’s.”
! The girl squeaked and tore the hat off. Law chuckled under his breath and shook his head lazily. “Q-Queen has her…her eye on you!”
! Law cupped his chin in his hand. “Are you the eye she issued?”
! Charmedward gulped deeply, looking ready to sob. “No. I did this out of-”
! “No wonder they call you Bloodhound.” A nudge to the small collection of drinks on a tabletop. “Care for a drink or two?”
! “I don’t drink.”
! “Figured.” He waved a hand at Penguin, who took his position at the door back up. “How’s old Queenie doing these days? Still slinking around with her nose in the air?”
! “She has a right to. She’s the best around!”
! Law laughed. “Bloodhound, you have a warped devotion. I like that.” The King of Hearts lay back in his seat. “Heard she’s on the bad terms with Pretty in Pink.”
! “Well…” Crossing her arms behind her back, she tried to feign courage. “Her sense of justice clashed with is.”
! “Queen has too much of a heart.” Rolling his neck, he picked up his drink. “Tell me why she didn’t shoot Handsome Duval in the brawl on Iron Street?”
! Charmedward thought briefly. “Keimi is with child.”
! “Heart…” The man took a long swig of his nameless drink. “Too much of it to be a Boss. Her slip up of not knocking him off has cost Pretty in Pink some information. But, no one can find Handsome to bump him off. My guess is he’s in hiding with his lady.”
! “It’s not like they’d get her if s-”
! “Doflamingo has no respect for the rules.” A deep breath through the nose and he closed the discussion. “You know that.”
! Charmedward went pale. “Are you going to shoot me?”
! “Why? I am but a humble surgeon just wrapped up in this ludicrous gang scheme.”
! “Queen wants to make a deal with you!” The blurt hit the walls and rang the room.
! “A deal?” Law perked up from his slouch, setting the drink to the desk. “Elaborate.”
! “I’m not sure of it myself, but she said the other day that we have business with you! So I came to scope you out and make sure it was safe for Gypsy to come around!” Her fist raised in her person triumph, she smiled. “And I have decided that I did right and you are worthy of her presence.”
! “You were right by spilling her information?”
! Charmedward’s jaw dropped and she started to make choking noises of protest. “I…”
! “Please leave, I believe I have an appointment any moment.” After her frozen stance broke apart to allow her to retreat, he added when her hand hit the knob: “And please tell your Queen that I’d take pleasure in her pretty companionship before long.”
–------------------------------------------------------
! Gypsy blew the last puff from her cigar towards the ceiling of Trafalgar’s office. Biting her lower lip, she let a closed mouth moan break the silence. Killer at the door and Kidd behind her seat, she really had no worry to an ambush. Demands were in her favor today.
! “Might I suggest a drink from you, Law?”
! “Absolutely, it’s not everyday a woman like you is perched in my chair.” He stood up, adjusting the ends of his coat. “I take it you want your Royalist?”
! “You still remember after all these years?” Her raised brows displayed favor.
! “A man doesn’t forget a date like that.” He mixed the drink as Kidd coughed with meaning. “Heard you’ve been causing quite a racket these days.”
! The dark-haired woman folded her hands on her knee. “You’ve been eavesdropping again, haven’t you?”
! “The mess with Duval has stirred your name up like dust.”
! “I couldn’t shoot the man.” She closed her eyes to recall the event. “His wife is about to drop a babe. Could you imagine if my father was shot before I were born?”
! “You wouldn’t be in charge of the Ensenada Group, would you?” He handed the amber drink into the grip of the lady. Setting back into the chair, he withdrew a folder and placed it on the desk. “You could have dumped Duval and his soon to be family in a double-decker.”
! “What a sick man, isn’t he, Kidd?” Gypsy handed the end of her cigar to the man behind her.
! “This racket is about to extend to me, isn’t it?” Said the doctor, sitting down at his desk.
! “You’ve continuously verified to be sharp, old friend.” Holding the drink up towards the man behind her, he took the drink and sniffed it. Swirling it’s contents he tasted it carefully before handing it back to her. “I’m sure with your inside intelligence, you’ve heard of Roger’s Will, yes?”
! “Who hasn’t? Somewhere in this city it’s hidden, that is, unless it disappeared with his late wife.”
! “Indeed.” She pulled up her purse and thumbed through it. “What if I told you I knew where a piece of it was?”
! Law traced his gaze over her, the champagne color of her suit seemed to set off a sort of glow to her aura. A shining answer and threat, he crossed one foot over and balanced it on his knee. The pistol under the leg’s fabric was exposed slightly, his tanned fingers sat on top of it.
! “A page?”
! Tyrant Queen gave him a look that showed no joke was in her yarn. Fluttering her lashes, she knocked her teeth together in consideration of her next words. “I wish this didn’t have to involve guns.”
! Kidd put his hands on his hips, drawing back his black coat. Countless guns were bedecked on his chest like a steel vest. Trafalgar eyed them for a moment, knowing that even with his luck, that it wasn’t best to mess with a man who seemed to be a magnet of weapons. The heavily armed bodyguard pulled his chin into the air. “This is where you put the pistol on the table.”
! Law’s eyes narrowed at the man. Gradually, the straps to his hidden pistol were removed and it was placed upon the table. Kidd looked at it for a moment and snickered, he picked it up. Spinning it on his finger, he leaned an elbow on the head of his Boss’s chair. Tyrant Queen sighed and placed her drink in her lap. “Now that we’ve taken care of that. I’d like to know what you’ve done with the page.”
! “The page, huh?” Law said as she sipped her drink casually. “How long have you known that I had it?”
! “Weeks.”
! “You’ve changed since your La Piccolina days, Gypsy.” King of Hearts rubbed his hand over his mouth.
! “If I were a little girl, no one would listen.” She placed the glass on his desk. “Now, about this will…you’re going to need protection if you posses it, no?”
! “Perhaps…unless the hazard is you.”
! Gypsy let out a chirp of laughter. “Goodness, no! What would I want with a silly will? That’s not what I desire.”
! “Oh, please.” Law rolled his eyes and waved the woman’s words off. “You tell me that, then soon I get a button on my doorstep with a gun between my eyes.”
! “You’d just have that Bepo do the cleaning to anyone who saw you leaving.”
! “Don’t compare my practice to gang!” Law said coldly, standing up suddenly. His rise was met by the swish of a switchblade snapped and Kidd whipping out a gun from under his armpit. Gypsy’s smile faded from her features. The fan overhead was loose and made a small bump routinely, like a metronome for this sickening musical. Once cleared of the smile, Gypsy’s mouth curled into a sneer.
! “As I was saying.” Killer put his blade back into his sleeve, but Kidd kept the gun cocked at the tanned doctor. Gypsy went on. “My covet doesn’t lie within in any document. And if you want to pursue whatever it is you desire, you’re in need of my services.”
! Kidd scoffed. “This is ridiculous, Tyrant Queen. We shouldn’t even bother protecting this man, it‘s obvious that Pink isn’t the only wants his sniveling mouth iced.”
! “The Fedoras are growing restless.” The woman reminded. “They want that paper soon. And if either them or the Galley-La get it, the whole city will become a crime scene. They have their bothersome babbos and cugines out around sniffing for it. I managed to clean what I could for my connections, but you haven‘t done well at all. As we can see by the fate of Handsome.” Gypsy picked up her purse and threw a small card from it at Law. “You’re welcome to call us if you get the sudden urge to live.”
! Law looked form the slip of paper to the back of the woman at his door. “I suspect The Committee will be hitting the mattress soon, eh?”
! Simply, the woman looked over her shoulder and patted her hair twist. “We’ll be clocking you, Trafalgar. Good day.”
! The fan trembled with her leave.
Part 6 by Skyrius
! “B-Boss!” the almost childish shout came bursting from across the corridor as Charmed lurched out of her seat outside the door as it opened. She skidded to a halt as the first one out was Kidd, who simply glared and turned away, not bothering with her. Eyes narrowing, she turned to look behind him. Gypsy glided out, a calm look of satisfaction upon her face.
! “Boss! How did everything go?” Charmed asked as she jumped over to stand next to the leader. Gypsy tilted her head slightly and smiled at the enthusiasm.
! “I’m sure we’ll be hearing from our dear surgeon within the week.” she raised a hand and set it gently on Charmed’s head, stroking her hair once before walking past her. Charmed spun on her heel and trotted after Gypsy, trying to keep up with her leader’s longer strides.
! “I knew it. No one could ever refuse you boss,” she grinned, but then let it fall as she steeled herself to converse on more serious matters, “Boss, I have a report to make.”
! Gypsy inclined her head back the slightest of angles, to motion that she was listening. Kidd and Killer up ahead made no indication that they had heard, but Charmed knew they could. She shook her head.
! “I’ll tell you later.”
! Gypsy’s eyes narrowed, scanning her face. After a moment, she smiled.
! “Of course dear.”
–-------------
! “What’s this for?”
! Iceburg looked over from the construction he was directing as Paulie shuffled through the numerous papers on his desk, plucking out a cream color envelope embellished with a gold lining and wine red wax seal. The mark melted into the seal was the one for the Ensenadas.
! “Ah, that’s an invite.” Paulie glanced over at him.
! “For what?”
! “A party. It seems Gypsy’s hosting one in two days, at midnight.” He paused in his explanation as an echoing thud and numerous colorful curses flew through the air. A low hanging beam had swung in too close to the wooden frame of the building. The decrepit old apartment was being remodeled into a new storage facility for Galley La. There had been a significant set back when it was discovered that the condition of the main foundation and woodworks was revealed to be much worse than expected. Water and termite damage had worn it down to dangerous levels. Iceburg was overseeing the project himself after a few broken bones and one man had been hospitalized in moments of carelessness in the renovation.
! Paulie sighed, breaking the envelope seal to take a look. Iceburg would be too busy to worry about things like parties for a while yet. The letter began in the normal manner, embellished greetings written in flourished cursive writing. The second page was a guest list, in case anyone had any….complaints about who they would be attending the party with. He scanned it over quickly, running down the list. It didn’t seem like any particularly volatile combinations were being invited. Donflamingo was out. Right at the end of the list, he froze, blinking, trying to ascertain that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. This couldn’t be right.
! “B-Boss!” he whirled around, letting the letter fall to the floor out of his hands. If this list were right, there was no way the night would end without someone dead. Most likely many people.
! The dim backlights of the Midnight Club increased in intensity as the last of the guests left for the evening. There was no need to keep things so dim now that the austere atmosphere of the room no longer had to be kept. Florescent lights came on above head, illuminating the nooks and crannies. Their glow ignited a mosaic of colors along the walls, revealing that the glittering star effect that shone in the dark was actually numerous pieces of colored glass melded into the fours sides of the room. The ceiling sloped upwards, with the lowest point being directly above the platform Nia sang upon. From the top, long red curtains flowed down to make an open semicircle surrounding the stage. From there, it curved upwards in a concave hyperbola shape, until the highest point at the edge of the room, arching over twenty feet above the heads of the guest.
! Along the bottom of the walls, adorning the circumference of the half moon shaped room were carvings of plants and animals, real and mythical, lined in gold and silver. Anyone who had an eye for detail would see that a significantly large amount of time and money had been put into the construction of the club. Of course, Gypsy was rather certain that most of the regulars that frequented the club would not have an eye for detail. The slavish detail she put in, such as the crystal chandeliers that dipped delicately into the shape of a peacock’s tail or the ivory handles upon each door inside the facility, was for the satisfaction of her own pride. Luxury was proof of power as well, not just wealth.
! Well, so she would have told any passerby to question, but Gypsy wasn’t in at the moment. Nia sighed as she glided down the steps, deftly removing the ruby high heels she wore. She could never get used to them, no matter how often she performed onstage in them. It was a force of habit from her days in the frontlines, even though over a year had passed since then. She still couldn’t fathom how Piratemarimo could run, flip, and somersault over some poor fool’s head in her heels without breaking an ankle.
! The numerous waiters and maids that had been waiting on the guests’ each whim were now busy folding up the black velvet tablecloths or gathering up the delicate china plates and bowls. She paid no attention to them as she walked across the room, rolling her head to stretch out the neck muscles.
! “Rough night?” a voice floated over from ahead. She peered up, opening one eye from her after performance relaxation routine. Meta was standing a little ways apart from the front door, leaning against the bar counter, a small smirk on his face. She rolled her eyes and moved on to stretching her arm muscles.
! “You shouldn’t have let him in.” she responded when she was close enough not to have to shout. Sliding out one of the chairs, she settled down into it, her dress floating down to wrap around the chair legs.
! “Hey, he knew the password. You know how that works. If you want to blame someone, go find the guy who was stupid enough to tell some bum off the streets how to get into this place. Unless of course Gypsy already has someone on that, which she probably does,” he chuckled, reaching across the countertop to pluck one of the wine bottles and two crystal glasses, “Want one?” he inquired.
! Nia didn’t answer, moving on to side stretches. Meta took that as a yes, since she never really answered unless it was to say no. Pouring until each of the glasses was about three fourths full, he slid one of them over to her.
! “You know, you look more troubled than usual,” he commented, turning around so that his back was to the countertop again, leaning against it. His eyes were on the scene in front of him, numerous people scurrying about to clean up any messes that had been made that night. Nia looked down into her glass, facing towards the countertop, away from Meta. She picked it up and swirled it around, contemplating for a minute.
! “How….do you think she’s….doing…” She paused, as if second guessing herself.
! “Are you thinking about Skyrius again?” Meta finished for her, raising his cup to his lips and sipping it, eyes not leaving the scene in front of him. Even without looking at her, he could feel Nia stiffen slightly, tensing. He sighed, lowering the drink and turning his upper body around to half-face her, putting his right arm on the countertop to lean on.
! “That wasn’t your fault. Hell, it wasn’t anyone’s fault here. It was-“
! “You don’t know that for sure!” Nia snapped, hardly raising her voice, but the smooth silk like quality hardened into an icy, jagged sound, “I was the one in charge of the mission. I was the one who should have…should have made the kill…I shouldn’t have let her listen to him…” she trailed off, staring back into her drink again, still untouched. Meta watched her for a second, then sighed, even louder than before and in a far more exaggerated manner. Nia looked up and glared at him, knowing he was doing it on purpose.
! “Listen princess,” he began, his previously teasing and even consoling voice tightening a bit, as if he was scolding a child, “You can beat yourself up as much as you want. You can stay off of the frontlines forever. You just sing your pretty little songs the rest of your life if it makes you feel better, but just know this- it’s not going to change anything,” he set down his wine cup, still half full and turned to face her completely before continuing, “The only question I have is this- if she shows up here again, do you still have the resolve to put her down?” he stared at her, not breaking eye contact, challenging her to answer.
! "Do you?" Nia responded in turn, glaring back at him with emerald daggers. For a long minute, neither of them so much as twitched. Anyone looking on from afar could almost believe that they were two wax statues, perfectly sculpted. Then the moment passed. A loud crash resounded from the wooden door that marked the entrance. Nia didn’t flinch. Meta sighed, turning his attention away to see what the fuss was. The front door was swinging from one hinge, the lock broken in two from having been slammed open. A man, red faced and reeking of alcohol, was stumbling in, a scene normal enough on most nights.
! What drew Meta attention was the self-powered .311 Maxim gun dangling from his right hand. The bulky weapon was a heavy artillery type machine gun, usually seen on the battlefield. Meta could feel another sigh coming, and only stopped himself upon realizing that it would be the fifth time in one night. Dealers these days gave anyone with a fistful of cash and head full of empty a firearm.
! “A’right, e’ryon ‘ands in d’ air!” the man shouted, his tone slurred with inebriation. Meta studied him. In his current condition, he doubted the drunkard could even lift the weapon, much less aim straight. But he’d still have to hear hell if Gypsy came back to find rounds of gunshot in her precious chandeliers or priceless paintings. Behind him, Nia turned away from the scene, finally turning her attention to her drink.
! “I sai’ freeze ‘ou ninnies!” the man yelled out again when none of the workers so much as turned a head to look at him. Meta stepped forwards
! “Hey, jackass. Get out,” he said simply, annunciating each chilly word with a step forwards. The man paused in the middle of his next rant, turning his face to look at him.
! “ Heeeeh? Wha’dya jus’ say to me?” a drop of slobber dripped out of the side of the intruder's mouth. Meta wrinkled his nose slightly in disgust. This idiot was even drunker than he thought. The man turned tipsily around to face Meta, matted hair and rumpled suit. He lifted the gun shakily with both hands, his depressed muscles not functioning at full capacity due to the alcohol in his system.
! “I dare ya to say ‘at one more ‘ime.” He drawled, finger twitching on the trigger. Meta’s eyes narrowed to slits and the air rippled. Anyone there who so much as blinked would have missed it. The sound of machine gun fire ripped through the room, bullets clattering. But they didn’t hit anyone. The self-propelled Maxim gun was now aiming straight up at the roof. There was howling and cracking as the sound of broken fingers crunched. A black and silver blur, from Meta’s suit, had launched itself underneath the drunkard’s extended arm before he could even comprehend what was going on. Meta’s foot had shot upwards, crashing into the hand that held the gun with enough force to shatter all the bones and enough momentum to kick the 50+ pound gun straight skywards when the trigger went off. As a result, there was a myriad of holes in the ceiling, but he figured Gypsy wouldn’t mind too much when he mentioned that he could have kicked the gun into a chandelier instead.
! The intruder was still howling in pain, having dropped his gun and was nursing the broken hand. There wasn’t even time for the pain to completely set in before Meta grabbed the man’s face with one hand, deftly ramming his head into the marble floor in one motion. The ground creaked and cracks blossomed from where the now unconscious man hit the floor, his eyes rolled back and foaming at the mouth. Dusting his hands off, Meta straightened.
! The sound of glass clinking came from behind him as Nia stood up and picked up her empty glass. Meta turned heel and walked back over, lifting his glass up as he passed and walking back towards the sink along with Nia, dumping the rest of the wine on the drunkard’s face as he passed him.
! “Gypsy’s going to complain about the floor.”
! “I’m going to complain about that damn door. Every single one of those things is bulletproof inside the building, and she can’t bother to upgrade the front entrance?” Meta snatched the wine glass from Nia’s hand and set both of them down into the sink.
! Nia chuckled softly, and turned to walk back to her own room behind the farthest door to the right in the main room, “It’s Gypsy’s way of saying that there’s no need for extra protection. You should think of it as a compliment. She respects your strength that much.”
! Meta let another sigh escape and rubbed the back of his neck, craning his head to glare at the limp body on the floor, “Yeah, well I can do without it. Never a peaceful night in this place.”
! Across town, through unlit alleyways where stray cats prowled, through the barred iron doors of a large apartment building, down a flight of spiral stairs, past a vault of titanium doors and finally through a pair of oaken double doors, another mafia member was suppressing the urge to sigh for the umpteenth time that night.
! Mia sat, elbows on the table in front of her and hands interwoven, resting her head upon the net her fingers made, trying to figure out how she had ended up in this situation again. She vaguely recalled Trapped shouting some nonsense about an important meeting and a hurricane of movements as a multitude of hands dragged her through the hallways, brushed her hair, plucked at her clothes, and made her presentable.
! The meeting in question had taken all of 10 seconds to turn sour. The group that had come to meet with her had immediately gotten on her nerves with their arrogance and demand to operate freely in her territory. There were procedures to be followed. Even Mia, with her disregard for rules and tradition, held certain standards in check.
! “Brownbeard,” she started again, inwardly cringing at the ridiculous name, “As I have stated within the first minute of this conversation, and will continue to state, I will not have you running about as you wish within my boundaries.” She paused to glance through lidded eyes at the ring of men sitting in front of her for the slightest of moments. That was enough to chill the air in the room another five degrees, even with the pouring rain outside. The leader, a massive man with an absurd beard from which he took his namesake, simply chuckled, as if he was dealing with some flighty broad, which he personally thought he was.
! “I think you’ll reconsider that girly,” he continued, leaning in so that his coat slipped, revealing the myriad of guns holstered on his belt, “We’re being quite generous here. I know that the Vindice is the largest family around, but honestly it’s just because you pussyfoot around any fights.”
! Mia froze, eyes piercing up, in a rare moment of complete seriousness. Anyone with half a brain who looked at her then would have shut his or her mouth in a second. It seemed the men in front of her didn’t have even half a brain.
! A long knock followed by to short ones broke the silence, and in all likelihood delayed the deaths that had been about to befall the motley crew in front of the Empress of Ruin.
! “Come in” she called out, taking the reprieve to gather up her calm again. The doors slid open and a single woman glided in, garbed in a form fitting red dress with black open diamonds laced down the side (Gypsy! It’s your dress ) bowing her head to Mia for the slightest of moments.
! “Masha,” Mia perked up, the tension in her face melting out at the sight of someone she knew, “you’re back earlier than I expected.”
! Masha smiled gently, curtsying. “I finished faster than I expected,” she responded liltingly, still smiling calmly, “So I thought to hand in my report earlier. Are you busy at the moment?”
! “Shouldn’t you be giving it to Trapped?” Mia asked, untangling her fingers and standing up.
! “She said that I should give it to you,” Masha laughed softly, “Something about you having to take on more responsibilities.” She bowed ever slightly to the men in the room to show that she had noticed them. Browbeard gave a loud guffaw at the arrival and turned to face Masha.
! “Sorry miss, but your boss is a bit tied up with us at the moment.” Masha looked to Mia for confirmation.
! “No, we’re done here,” she asserted, walking around from behind her desk and past Brownbeard, “I have no more to say on this matter.”
! “Hold it there girlie,” the previously jestering tone of voice the mafia leader had taken disappeared as a click rang out, the sound of the safety latch snapping, “I think we aren’t done just yet, don’t you?” Mia stopped in her tracks, eyes closed. The men were now surrounding her in a ring, each holding a gun of sorts to her head. She could feel that sigh building.
! “Gentlemen,” Masha’s soft voice rang out melodiously, “To point a gun at Miss Mia is inexcusable here. Lower your weapons and leave immediately.”
! Half the men turned their heads to look at Masha, who was standing behind them, hands in a cradle shape around her stomach. Brownbeard laughed, motioning with his head for his men to keep their guns trained as he turned around, sauntering over to the light haired girl.
! “Well well, I might consider that missie,” he slurred, stopping right in front of her and leaning in close, “If you were to give us the pleasure of your company this evening.” The men around laughed at his line, barking and sharp. Masha didn’t flinch, simply smiled smoothly and lifted a hand to stroke his face.
! “My dear sir,” she began, pronouncing each word precisely as if it were flowing off of silk, “There isn’t a single woman in the world that would spend a night with a pig like you.”
! Brownbeard froze as did the men around him, choking on anger. His hand shot for his gun, but before it so much as touched it, Masha clenched her fingers in the smallest of movements, nails biting into his skin. There was a beat and an anguished scream erupted from the man. Brownbeard’s men had only a moment to react before a whirl of caramel and ruby was in their midst, fingers alighting upon their skin in the softest of motions, like a bird’s wings brushing a flower. There was nothing more than a prick here, the thinnest of slides there, and soon the room resounded with howls as they fell to the ground, clutching at faces and necks. Masha slowed to a stop besides Mia, bowing down.
! “I’m sorry you had to see such a scene. Please go Boss, I’ll call for one of the recruits to come clean up the mess in here.”
! Mia shook her head and lifted one hand to grasp Masha’s, lifting it. As she suspected, they were immaculately done nail extensions. But rather than plastic or glass they were crafted of the thinnest of steel. Knives, tiny enough to fit on the tip of a finger and sharp enough to cut with the smallest of movements. There was a thin liquid coating atop each nail, curare, a preparation made from the toxic skin of the poison dart frogs. Physical effects were instant and death would follow in a matter of minutes from asphyxiation.
! “Never mind, let’s both go. You were going to give me a report, right?” Mia released the spy’s hand and walked past her. The pitter of feet behind her indicated that Masha had followed.
! “Yes.”
! Piratemarimo cursed under her breath. It had been clear all goddamn day. ALL day. In fact, it was dry all the way until a minute before sunset. She had already had one assignment that night, another one was pushing it. Gypsy had better be ready to carve her face next to George freaking Washington on Mount Rushmore for this one.
! She glanced down at the laminated list in her hand, water sliding off of the plastic. Two down, one to go. The last one though…
! Her mind wandered back to less than a week ago.
! “I’ve got one more job to finished up,” Mette had sighed, setting down his gun. Holes riddled the curtain of the room where he and Piratemarimo had just finished their little skirmish. The tables laid overturned and the flowers scattered upon the floor from their vase. He slid down to sit on the floor against the wall, waving for her to come over as well. The black haired woman slid her gun back into its holster and walked over, plopping down next to him.
! “Putting it off again?” she teased, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and pulling one out. Mette plucked it out of her hand and she glowered at him, elbowing him. The cigarette jumped out of his hand and he fumbled to catch it again. She turned and pulled another out, taking out her lighter as well, igniting both of them.
! “Er…you can call it that,” Mette answered haltingly, smoke spiraling from the tip of the roll, “It’s more like…hm, it might be more of a pain to have him dead.”
! Piratemarimo glanced over, interested. Mette hardly ever gave his thoughts on missions, figuring the sooner he was done, the sooner he wouldn’t have to worry about it.
! “Oh? Who is this amazing figure that’s managed to pull an actual opinion out of that skull of hot air of yours?” she chuckled. Mette frowned and stomped down on her foot, which she slid out of way right before it was crushed.
! “Ha ha. I’m perfectly capable of thinking for myself,” he grumbled, chomping down on the cigarette, “I’m just saying that taking out the head of a gang is going to cause chaos.”
! Piratemarimo started for a second, inhaling and coughing, “Wait wait,” she managed between coughs, waiting for it to settle, “You’re going to kill who?”
! Mette sighed, crushing the stub of the still smoldering cigarette under his thumb. He didn’t feel like it anymore.
! “Some guy the Straw Hats have their eyes on as well.” At this the other assassin raised an eyebrow, more interested than ever. This was new. Mia hardly ever went after anyone that another gang had an agenda with. And the Straw Hats, while being a small and normally unobtrusive group, were highly volatile. If someone was on their bad side, it was a matter of time before they ended up smeared against the wall of some alleyway.
! “Who?”
! “I dunno. Some prick named Bellamy.”
! She sighed again, staring out at the rain. Her fedora was already ruined, so it didn’t really matter that much anymore. She had left her hat on the table inside the Midnight Club before she ran out for her next assignment.
! “This is her way of getting back at Doflamingo, huh?” she muttered aloud, referring to Gypsy’s previous run-in with the rival mafia leader that ended in…complications. She was 99% sure that this was Gypsy’s version of a “screw you” to him. And of course, instead of dealing with it herself, Gypsy sent her. Out into the pouring rain. At 3 AM in the morning. On a Saturday night. A street light flickered before sputtering out. She could feel the physical pressure of a loud groan build up in her stomach at the compiling thoughts.
! “I better get a goddamn mansion for this.” She said forcefully, loudly, to the rain, sprinting off again. She’d have a lot to explain to Mette, and a lot of bullets to dance around, once he found out that she was taking his target. Actually, for that matter, that there were three families all aiming for one guy. She almost felt sorry for the mark. Almost.
–-------------------------
! An explosion took out the top half of a high rise apartment building, raining debris upon the men scattered like mice below, sending them scurrying in all directions. The narrow alleyway was only large enough for two people to walk side by side, and even less with the trash cans and dumpsters peppered along its length. The oil based fire blazed high into the sky, even in the harsh rain. Below, underneath an alcove so as to avoid a rain, a single hooded figure tossed a burning cigarette to the floor, smothering it beneath the heel of an Italian loafer. The people around the figure stared, half in shock and half in fear as it walked past them, leaving the burning building in their wake. Exiting the alleyway, the hood was pulled back and a face turned upwards, eyes closed, to bask in the rain for a moment.
! “Il giudizio,” one man whispered, voice harsh with soot. The Judgment. Whatever the poor fool had done was negligent. An appointment had been broken. Under normal circumstances, he would have gotten off with a probation period, maybe a few broken bones. What proof stood here was that he had had the galls to try and resist.
! Behind them, the figure readjusted her hood and continued to walk leisurely, enjoying the brief period of rain in the hot summer season.
Backstory by various (these are snippets written by people, mostly Gypsy at the moment, that flesh out the backstory or personality of characters and plot points in the story. They are set in the past and so set apart from the present storyline; flashbacks are not included here. These are stand alone pieces linked to the main story. Reading them enhances certain parts of the main story, but they are not necessary for understanding of any plot threads in the main story.)
by Gypsy
! “Tom?” Buzzed the crackling voice of the blonde secretary from the call box. Pressing his yellow finger into the button, the fish man answered back with the usual question.
! “Yes, Kokoro?”
! “There is an interview here for you.” Her throat clearly slightly, the sound of her palm meeting the bottom of the phone. “Mister Roger is here to give you an interview.”
! Tom’s eyebrows fell as he looked up at the two boys in his office. The older boy with navy hair was staring at him, his dark mouth open slightly. While the younger, with the lighter hair, was sitting in a chair with his elbows on his knees. He had been playing with his fingernails, but was now watching the call box. Meeting his boss’ eyes he mouthed: “Who?”
! In response, Tom pressed the button again. “Tell him to go grab a coffee and come back. I’m not ready.”
! “Will do, sir.”
! A moment passed before the draw of her breath. “He says he’d like to take you out for this one. He’ll pick you up later.” And the beep of the ending call sounded. A cue for the seated boy to stand.
! “Mr. Tom! Is that the Roger?! Why is he here?! Does he think it’s smart to come walking in here when he knows we’re in hiding?!”
! “Franky is right, sir.” Said the older boy. “If he slips up, the whole town will know by sundown that we aren’t really running a normal penny saver’s newsletter.”
! Waving a great hand at the young men, Tom laughed in his boom jovial. “Come now, Iceberg. I think the heading mind of The Committee knows what he’s doing.”
! “I’d assume so, but what if someone sees him enter?” Iceberg pressed on. “And then we have no interview to dish out as evidence?”
! “We’re screwed then!” Franky called from the coat rack. “We’d all be filled with bullets if a peep of this gets out.” He removed the dark dress jacket from a peg and put it on over his bright colored button up. “Anyone seen my gold chain?”
! Iceberg groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why do you insist on wearing that stupid necklace? You just look like an idiot when you have it on.”
! “Would you hit a guy wearing a chain made of solid gold?”
! “If he looked like you.”
! Franky shot Iceberg a glare of severe caveat, pointing at him ominously. Tom smacked the table in hysterics. “You two kill me! Whahaha!”
! “Anyway.” The eldest went on. “What are we going to do? If he takes us out, we’re goners for sure.”
! “So we say we’re talking to him about a boat he’s selling.” Franky shrugged, heading to the fireplace to hunt for his chain. “Bet he has enough dough to buy one to hold that lie up. Damn, where is it?”
! “Most likely it’ll have drugs or something in the seats.”
! “You’re always one for optimism, Idiot-berg.” Cutty Flam jeered, getting on his knees to search under the tables. Iceberg glared at the back of his head, nose crinkled in irritation. The room stood like this for a moment, with only the sounds of the other workers in the press bustling outside the door and Franky bumping objects and swears. Tom inhaled through his nose and took out a folder from the underside of his desk. Taped there for years, he figured it was time for it to get some air.
! “You two need to watch yourselves tonight. Do not meddle with any decisions I make, okay?”
! A cheer interrupted Iceberg before he even began to question. Throwing up a fist, Franky followed his raised fist with the gold links in one fist. “There you are, sucker! Of course it would be under the drink table.”
! Iceberg punched his friend in the arm to shut him up. “We won’t mess with any decision you make, right?”
! “What? Oh, yeah. Right, Boss.” Franky clasped the chain behind his neck. “Do I look swank?”
! “You look like an idiot.” Said Iceberg, his voice dipping as he tightened his tie. “At least wear a tie for tonight.”
! “Never! The King won’t pick on a guy who wears this!” He threw out his chest and pointed at the glinting jewelry.
! Tom burst into his usual hysterical reaction by pounding his knee. “Boys! You can’t be doing your routine tonight! The King won’t like it too much! Whahaha!”
! “The Baterilla?!”
! “Oh, this is going to be awesome!”
! “Why would The King want to come to a boarder line strip club?!” Iceberg gaped at the flashy sign over the glass doors Tom was heading towards. “Sir, we cannot go in there!”
! “Get a grip, Ice.” Franky threw his arm around his shoulders and pointed. “We’re in our twenties! Let’s grow up and get some ladies!”
! The response was a swift punch from Iceberg into Franky’s crown. “No, you calm down! It’s just going to be a night of girls shaking around! How can we get any business done! King must have a sec- hey! Where are you going?!”
! Franky and Tom had pushed the doors open in unison, the bass from before blasted out, like a flood of musical water. Iceberg didn’t even need to see Franky’s face to know it was wearing the stupidest grin in the world. Slapping his face in defeat, he followed his partners into the club. The waitresses wore more than he expected, but were still in less than normal. Standing stupidly in the arch of the dining room, he looked about the room to see it was classy, with it’s dark wooding and whatnot.
! Browns in dark dyes paneled the room and furniture, each surface with a streak of gold light eerily mirrored across it. Much like the moon over lakes, the enormous collection of glass orbs overhead reflected around the room. Each bubble on it’s pattern frosted to resemble candles inside rather than tiny bulbs. A purple carpet the color of royalty was stretched from under the desk of a few feet from the door, which Iceberg now noticed to have knobs the shape of large crystals. Even the trays carried by the women were crystal.
! A stage was build into the back wall, with an apron extended out and into the crowd. A few tables lined its stretch, each one with a cream table cloth and miniature version of the grand chandelier in the center. Though it was illuminated by tea candles that smelled like linens fresh from the dryer. To his further horror, he saw Franky wildly waving from the table at the dead end of the apron. Whomever would be dancing that night would give the impression that they were walking right at them. Another palm to the face meant that Iceberg gave up.
! “Hey, sugar.” Said a woman with a black bob and a cherry colored dress, tray under arm. “You sitting for one?”
! The help didn‘t match the elegance of the room. It was like when Franky wore a tux. “No, I’m meeting up with those…men down there.”
! “You want me to walk you down there?” Her eyes traced up his chest, he shook his head and marched off. Eye wide in disgust, he scowled at the table. At least, he did until he saw his dinner guests.
! Gol D. Roger, or The King to most was seating at the opposite end of Tom with his arms crossed across a crude, yet classy red suit jacket, a large red flower in the breast pocket of it. Next to him set the Dark King, Silvers Rayleigh, with his sandy hair slicked off his grinning face. And, to Iceberg’s wonder, two other boys around he and Franky’s age. One with oddly bright red hair and the other a strange red nose. When he arrived at the table, he gave a bow with his head to the other men.
! “Ah, here he is!” Tom slapped Iceberg on the back, causing his knees to almost buckle. “And this is Iceberg! Good kid, he is! A little uptight, but we need that, don’t we, Franky?”
! Franky was too stuffing complementary bread in his mouth to properly answer. Nodding fiercely, he chewed loudly and looked at the other end to Roger. Swallowing, he said: “Man, this place is great!”
! Roger smiled under his long moustache. “It’s a favorite of mine. And we came on the night of my favorite entertainer.”
! It took all Iceberg’s will power not to let his mouth drop. The King came here to watch the dancers? Turning to Tom, Iceberg started to plead with his eyes to let them leave before he saw this suave gang boss turn into a dirty old man at the sound of a bass line.
! Expectedly, Tom ignored his desperate needs to not see the men around him make him feel like he needed a bath and nodded at Roger. “I’ve heard the dancers here were top notch.”
! “They are.” He replied, unfolding his arms onto the rests of the chair. “Any girl up on that stage is at least a hundred times more appealing than the woman on the floor.”
! A woman approached, their waitress. Setting down their drink orders, she bounced off in her yellow, flounced skirt. Iceberg was sure she made sure she totted with enough spring to keep it lifted up just inches under her rump. Cringing, he looked back at the others.
! “We ordered for you.” Franky said once he had unglued his eyes from the skirt’s dance.
! “What did order for me?” Iceberg sipped the drink and sputtered into his napkin. “OH GOD. What is this?!”
! “A Robbie Burns, dumb ass!”
! Iceberg groaned at his friend’s stupidity, pushing the drink away. “You know I hate whiskey, Franky!”
! Silvers chuckled, putting a hand to his thigh and the other on the table. “I’ll tell you, she’s not dancing alone tonight.”
! “Oh?” Roger looked at his partner. “Shame. Know the other ones?”
! “Eh, read their names somewhere. Lu and Mare, I think.”
! The boy with the clown nose cackled. “Ah, Mare is always pleasant too look at!”
! “Too bad she doesn’t look back at you, Buggy.” The red head snickered, dodging the push his friend executed.
! “Bite me, Shanks!” He pointed a finger at his partner’s nose. “Fifty bucks says I get her number tonight!”
! “I could use fifty to take her on a date!” Shanks retorted, throwing a hand out for him to shake.
! Iceberg couldn’t believe that there was actually two boys who fought just as much as he and Franky did. He looked down to see Franky shoveling more bread into his mouth. Charming. Before he could tell him to knock it off and look professional, Tom piped up and addressed Roger.
! “Your business tonight?”
! The others at the table all held their breath, even Franky swallowed his bread drier than he liked. Simply, Roger sipped the large mug of brandy he had ordered. “Well, how should we start this, Silvers?”
! “From the beginning?” His number one replied, shrugging off his jacket.
! Nodding, The King let his tongue play around in his mouth for a moment in thought. After a lick to his mouth, he grinned at Tom. “I’m in constant danger, you know that. As a business man like me, I’m sure you’re well aware of what we put up with once our deeds are stuck to our names. Well, seems mine has been stuck to one going to the Big Brother’s level this time.”
! “The government?” Tom inquired, rubbing his thick neck.
! “That’s right.” He took a pause to gulp his brandy. “My luck, right? Well, it’s going up and it’ll meet the big guys before we know it.”
! “Shame.”
! “Ain’t it? Well, you see, I’ve got a large fortune I’ve made in my years of business. And, because I’m not going to be around long enough to give it away to a blood, I’m in need of a Will.”
! “A Will?” Tom furrowed his brow. “Who on earth would it go to?”
! “Ah, see that’s the fun part.” Roger put an elbow to the table and pointed to the fish man. The look on his face made Iceberg shiver. “You know I like games. Such a kid at heart, I am. I think we should play a nice game of finders keepers.”
! Tom’s face wore an expression of such intensity, it was almost terrifying. “You can’t be serious.”
! “Oh, I am.” Roger grinned wickedly. “This city is in need of a much better generation of our profession. More better than my self’s work from all these years! Why not spark that want to continue what we do after we’re rotted away with a little fun?” Another swig. “Plus, how brilliant would that be to stick to the government. A whole new mess of troubles.” Throwing his head back, he laughed loudly. While his men smirked and sighed at their boss.
! The other group, however, were in distain of the idea they were just presented. “And you want me to write it?”
! “Indeed. Best writer around, you are!”
! “I take it that this will also stick my name to whatever has yours?”
! Roger’s smiling reply was interpreted by the sound of drums bashing in warning. Buggy and Shanks both straightened up, smoothing out clothes and hair. Silvers laughed with such glee, he looked ten year younger.
! “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Called the voice of an announcer from the stage. “Take a moment to set down your drinks and remove any clothes you don’t want ruined by sweat! We’re about to bring out tonight’s spotlight of Bon Kurei’s finest dancer’s from his studio. Give him a hand for his allowance of his girls to be showcased here! And please, no touching, for this is their exam!”
! “What’s going on?” Franky nudged Shanks and pointed to the stage.
! “Were you chewing to loudly to hear?” He teased. “The performance is about to start.”
! “In other words.” Buggy leaned back to talk to Cutty Flam behind Shanks. “GIRLS.”
! Wildly, Franky grinned from the stage to Iceberg and back again. Iceberg noticed he adjusted his gold chain to show more.
! “And now!” Screeched the announcer again. “Here they are! Lu Clini, Mare Barrel and your own customary beauty…Rouge Portgas!”
! The sound of the final name perked Roger’s attention up, although he sat with his cheek rested to his knuckles. Lights went out, except the candles on the table. From they’re feeble sparkles, Iceberg saw the people around him shift and bump their friends. His back was to Franky, and certainly didn’t want to see his face at the moment. Thinking of shooting a remark about a cold shower to his idiot partner made Iceberg smile, but it was wiped off his face when the music started. Curtains of deep purple drew back, and the dancers started in silhouette.
! Even in shadow, it was obvious they were good at their craft.
! Hoots and hollers were shouted through the air, but none full effected the performers. And even when they were brought to full light, they stayed with the same passionate intensity as they were when hidden. The leading women was exactly as the announcers anticipation build her to be. Tall, slender and far more elegant than a regular dancer of a joint like this. Her hair the lightest of pinks and face dotted with freckles, you’d think she worked in a market selling fruits.
! In her hair she wore a flower that was large and red. But even it’s out of place presence, didn’t distract from the gracefulness her body seemed to move. It was absolutely clear she was skilled years beyond the two other girls behind her. (Who weren’t bad either. Buggy made that clear by the shouts at his bet decider.)
! When the show ended, Iceberg thought he’d go deaf from the claps and shouts around him. Mostly from Franky, who was screaming along with Shanks and Buggy; all three linked in arms. Tom was laughing at the boy’s antics and was repeatedly hammering the table between bleats of laughter.
! “Ah, and here come the reason to my will.” Roger said, standing up at the sight of the showcased woman. Rouge floated over, even lovelier in up close. Her other dancers a few feet behind her, giggling into each other’s shoulders at Buggy’s ferocious waves. “You were wonderful tonight.” He said, pecking the top of her hand.
! “I seem to always be best when you come to see my shows.” She smiled, and looked down the table. “Did you enjoy the show tonight, Silvers?”
! Dark King beamed over his glass of ale. “I’ve seen better.”
! “Then I’ll try harder.” Iceberg noticed her voice was exactly like what velvet sounds like on the skin. He wondered if she sang too. “On business?” She inquired, watching Buggy and Shanks nearly shove the other clean off their feet to get over to the other girls. The two about to fall over in their fit of giggles.
! “Yes, I am.” He cupped her hands in both of his. “But don’t worry about it, their isn’t anything dangerous involved.”
! Her light blue eyes looked over him. “If you say so. Though, even if it’s simple the selling of kittens, you’d make it dangerous somehow.”
! “I like my fun.”
! Beaming, she turned to her girls and waved to their attentions. “Girls, go on back and get ready for the next show. Make sure you check in with Mr. 2.”
! “We should call him that.” Lu giggled, unpinning her brown hair from it’s bun.
! Mare nodded in agreement, eyes not leaving Shanks. “Mmhmm. Ever since we came in second at the nationals, he hates anything referred to being second.”
! “You ladies? Number two?” Shanks laughed with a eye rolling shrug. “Were they judged by the visually impaired?”
! The two girls responded my more chortles and squeals as they walked away. Shanks turned a smug face to Buggy, his wide grin mocking.
! “SHUT UP.” Buggy stormed back to his seat as Franky and Silvers doubled over in laughter at the clown’s misfortune.
! “This means I must go back as well, Roger.” Rouge sang, turning to walk away. But her lover held her hand a bit tighter.
! “Are you sure you’re okay?”
! A sweet smile stretched over her freckled cheeks. “Of course. It’s only a month in…I can go for at least five more before the costumers complain of my belly.” And with a chuckle, she followed after the two younger girls to prepare for the next showing.
! Tom watched Roger, who was staring after the woman. Not like the other men, who were watching her rump sway as she walked or her chest bump against the front of her shirt. But rather like he was watching his favorite song personified. The fish man inhaled through his nose and nodded wordlessly. Iceberg noticed his action with marvel and disbelief.
! “Alright. It’s a Will you want…it’s a Will you get.” Tom said with his usual punctuating laugh. “I can have it done as soon as you need.”
! Iceberg’s gut told him this wasn’t going to end well for anyone.
Extras by Various (anything that's random or one-shots. These are just snippet when the current writer is busy, so they don't have to follow linearity)
by Gypsy
! Staring into the black hole of a barrel is a time of reflection, as Trafalgar Law always taught his nurses and newbie doctors. In a town oozing with so much crime and gang, you want to avoid the sudden meaning of your life. Since, if you got to see the light in the barrel tip, you’d quickly lose it a moment later. Today was his day of reflection, and it brought many firsts for Trafalgar.
! Firstly, he’d never seen a mafia woman before. To the treat of the events, it was the Ensenada’s direct heir: La Piccolina. In other words, the little girl. To his shock, the woman was no letter of the word “little.”
! Secondly, he had just purchased this suit. And never did he have a cigar burn to a new tie.
! Thirdly, this was his first time realizing he didn’t have an answer to his life.
! Squirming under her weight, he sighed into the pistol. “Buttleggings? On my expensive tie?”
! The woman narrowed her brown eyes, reflecting the gold off the silver gun. “You know your cigarettes. You sure you’re not a fanook?”
! “The fact I’ve been staring at your breast since you sat on top of me isn’t an indication otherwise?”
! A dark brow raised, her lips pushed out in deliberation. “You’re controlled. How many women sit on you a day?”
! “I’m a surgeon.” The bulb in the overhead fan flickered. “I see nudity like you see death, La Piccolina. Which further confuses me as to why I’m about to die.”
! “Papa says you’ve got something that we want.” The tip of the gun bore into the doctor’s forehead, denting his shaggy black tresses into his skin. “And I’m here to take it.”
! “Seduction was out of the question?” Law chuckled. “What are you, a babbo?”
! Piccolina growled and pulled the gun back. Whipping the back of it across the cheek of the surgeon, it sounded a crack when it collided with his face. Bone meeting metal sent a shearing pain up into Law’s temple. His face in pain, he grabbed it with his only free hand. The culprit of the smarting heaved breaths of antagonism out. “I am not a babbo, I suggest that stick in your brain for your next life, Law.”
! “Please, call me Trafalgar.” The stinging wasn’t lifting.
! The young woman gulped and wrinkled her nose. “I’m…Gypsy.”
! “Gypsy, huh? That’s some arm you got on you.” He blew a sigh from his cheeks. “But do you have enough guts to shoot me?”
! He had called her out. Of course, only the blind could not see her trembling arm. Whether from the clash a moment earlier or this being more than expected, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t something she could do, not until she knew why Papa had sent her here.
! “What does my father want?”
! “Father? Can’t you call him Whitebeard like the rest of the world?”
! Gypsy raised her arm in warning of striking his face again, Trafalgar didn’t flinch or jerk at all. Simply, he looked at her brown eyes with his black ones.
! “Papa must really want what you have. Spill.”
! “You aren’t ready to be the Boss. I’m hoping that he doesn’t get a contract put out for him with his babbos about sitting on doctors.”
! “Do you want a turban, Trafalgar?!”
! “And now you have gumption enough to crack my head open? Make up your mind.” Groaning, he shifted his legs. “You’re heavier than you look. Now, all I have of your “father’s” is a payment I never made for protection.”
! “You…owe a large?!” Her jaw dropped, showing lipstick on her teeth. “What do you need protection from to make you owe a large?!”
! Law blinked at her. “That’s not really your concern.”
! “But…I…” Her thoughts were never finished. Law grabbed bother her arm and heaved up, dragging her with him. Slamming her back to the desk, she let out a gasp of hurt and anguish as her pistol flew from her hand. The contents of the desk burst into the air, rolling about and clanking to the floor. Oak felt terrible when brought with force to the spine, Law knew that his move was made. Leaving the woman to groan at the tenderness of her back, he ranked open the drawer to the desk and lifted it’s bottom panel. Pulling out a check, he put it to her hands.
! “That should cover it.” He watched her sit up, coughing to retrieve her breath. “Cugine, you’re alright. I look forward to your days as boss.”
! “You better get a secretary or something.” Gypsy rubbed the back of her neck, check in hand. “Or find a lady to share the double-decker with.”
! “I’ll keep that in mind.”
! “It’s going to take a gun to her head to make her want to have dinner with me.”
! Iceberg leaned back in his chair, his assistant had been in his office for the past two hours moaning over a barmaid he had met a couple weeks back. The endless banter of the worry was begging to grind into his tension. “Paulie, perhaps you should just ask before she thinks you’re an alcoholic.”
! “Yeah, I would, but heard a rumor she’s with a Fedora.”
! “A Fedora?” Iceberg looked from over the rim of his glasses.
! “Yup.” Paulie ashed the cigar in the cup he had next to him. “Therefore, as the Fedora’s number one enemy, she won’t even give me a dance if I asked.”
! He was quite right, the Galley-La Family had been butting heads with the Fedoras for generations. A timeless dispute that involved a money ploy and a run away bride. Where they were to merge at a time, they were driven further apart. The bride ended up back east and married to a cop, both gunned down by the groom’s side. Spurring more hate. The Don of Galley-La swore for no forgiveness for the next six generations. Eight births later, the hate was still fanatical between the gangs.
! Iceberg placed his glasses to his lap. “Perhaps you could…remove the Fedora from her sights?”
! “I ain’t up for bumpin’ anyone off today, Boss.”
! “Charm would work too.” He sighed. “But you youngsters are all about who makes the biggest scene these days.”
! Paulie laughed smoothly, and stood up from the windowsill. “You always know how to phrase things, Boss. Such an old man, you are.”
! “I had the same thing to the man I succeed.” Iceberg smiled in memory. “Though not a blood relation, Tom was the best Don the world ever saw.”
! “Bet he knew where Roger’s Will was, huh?”
! The Gentle Don snapped his glare to the blonde man. “If he did, there is a reason he didn’t tell me.”
! Paulie scratched his head. “Or he didn’t tell you before the meat eater got him.”
! “With all the people going these days, it’s hard to say who knew from the original Committee.” A sigh. “For all we know, it could be in a hot place.”
! “I’ll bet.” Paulie had heard this a million and a half times. Maybe even more, but he’d lost count. Pacing to the door, he took his orange hat from the rack. “I’m going down to the Electric Fairground. Drinks are calling me.”
! “Tell the barmaid I said hello.” Iceberg said as Paulie slammed the door. The blonde man chuckled and put his hat firmly on his crown. His pace was set directly for the swank bar in the dead center of the town. A grand building, only employed by the finest and stalked by the many. It’s large sign was lit up after dusk every night in the rain or the shine. Paulie was only set on the bartendress behind bar five, the one with blonde hair and the desire to be a talk show host. At least, that’s what Paulie had learned from her chats with the other bartenders.
! As he pushed open the oak doors, his neck was immediately seized by a foreign arm. Cursing loudly, Paulie wrestled the grip off and flipped around to the source with a hand on his gin strap. “Oh, it’s you.” The retaliation was a hard sock to the arm from the choker. “Owch! Dammit, Kaku! You mind not making such a fucking scene?” He yanked his friend’s hat down, the bill of it pulled over Kaku’s nose.
! “Ah, don’t be such a stiff.” He used his palm to push the hat back up. “Girls like men who at least look like they’re cheerful.”
! “Like, you’d know.” Paulie removed his hat and put it under his arm. “Whoa, what’s up with Jyabura?”
! The base of a dark braid was pointed towards the ceiling as his nose was pressed to the bar top. Another black haired man was beside him, pushing glasses of drinks towards the facedown man. “Aw, he got dumped by some girl.”
! “Not some girl!” The clearly upset man cried. “THE girl! I will never move on from Gatherine!”
! Kaku rolled his dark eyes and sat down next to the man. Paulie removed his jacket and combed the back of the bar for the target to order a Brandy Julep. He couldn’t wait to see her usually giggling eye roll to his usual drink order.
! “I’m starving.”
! “Boss, you’re ALWAYS hungry.” Trapped rolled her neck to meet her palm. “Can’t you act like there is a reason you’re feared?”
! Mia scoffed and put her hand on her lower hip. Swinging her bag at Trapped, she let her mouth draw down to a look off passive annoyance. “Oh, please. You’ve got to lighten up. You’d think your new found fling with Red Hair would cool you down.”
! Each shade of skin red flashed over the complainer’s cheeks, as he boss whipped her head around for a restaurant. She let her eyes scan around in mock searching, she knew where she wanted to eat. But feared forever teasing if she blurted it before spotting it. After she gave a performance of deciding, she pointed to the tall building with the crude fish head atop the door. Bag swinging, she grinned. “Let’s eat there!”
! “There?” Trapped made an unpleasant face. “But we ate there three days ago! And I‘m going to meet up with Shanks in a cou-”
! But, it was useless. Mia was her boss and was already halfway there by the time she said her protest. Trapped checked the road, before clacking after her. The doorman took their coats from them, taking an extra second to eye the ladies profiles, before guiding them to a table. Low lights hovered over the tables, balls of crimson that made the sugar-white table cloths have a faint shadow of pink in the center. The second her rear hit the white cushion, Mia adjusted every bit of fabric she wore.
! “I love the way this place smells” She said with a struggle, her hands yanking the top of her black dress up. “Like Thanksgiving back home!”
! “Are you sure you aren’t here for that?” Trapped said, pointing from her laced fingers that her chin was balanced on. Mia whipped around to follow the finger’s subject, breaking into a grin, she rubbed her lips together.
! From the distance walked up a boy with lemon colored hair, covering half his vision. Over the only peeper in view, curled his eyebrow. The strip always seemed to the tucked into a questioning position and now was no exception. He perked up from his chat with two other waiters and swayed over, pulling his order pad out from him pocket as he approached. Mia flipped back around, wearing a smile of complacency.
! “Ah, ladies.” The waiter said as he approached, thumbing to the empty page of this notepad. “You seem to quite enjoy the food here, don’t you?”
! Mia had her chin in cupped hand, the elbow dug into the table. Her response was a rather stupid, airy chuckle as she grinned into her nails. Trapped nodded, folding her napkin in her lap. “Very much so, lovely atmosphere you have here.”
! “But with guest like yourselves! The air seems to become sweeter!” He said with a frontal bow.
! “Yeah…sweeter…” Mia gurgled out between snickers.
! “Now, what shall you two like to drink this evening?”
! “I’ll just have a water.” Trapped said, rolling her eyes to his compliment. These were times she wished she were with Shanks, his jealous glare always seemed to tug the corners of her mouth up. “And…she’ll have one too.” She said for her girlishly giggling boss.
! Sanji wrote the order with a flourish and nodded. “I shall be back within seconds!”
! After he trotted off, Mia rolled her head around from it’s gaze to his back. “He is gorgeous.”
! “He is pretty nice looking.” She squirmed, talking about other boys this early in her and Shanks relationship made her a tad bit uncomfortable. Apparently, it didn’t affect Mia that way.
! “I want to make out with him!” She groaned. “Do you think he likes boobs? I can use some of the money we raked in from the large last week to pay for a boob job.”
! Trapped snorted into her napkin. “Miss Mia!”
! “What? Dear, to get boys you must accommodate! Oh, wait.” She gave her a revolting look. “You HAVE a man.”
! “And without the use of plastic.”
! “As much as you punch him around, I’m astonished you didn’t have to. The boy has more bruises from your annoyance than from missions.”
! Trapped scoffed and removed her napkin from her lap. “Speaking of him, mind if I get him here too? This is important matters we will be discussing.”
! “Fine, go find a phone! You’re cramping my style anyways!” Mia smiled as Trapped pushed her seat back to go to the phone in the front. She passed the blonde waiter and heard the giggle of her upper. Making her way to the front, she politely asked the same man who took their coats for a phone. He nodded wordlessly, and handed her a bronze phone. The metal was cold against her ear when she dialed the number to the Headquarters. Ringing dug into her ears as she paced her eyes back and forth over the ceiling.
! At last, the end was picked up by Shanks. “Hello?”
! “Hey, Shanks!”
! “…Trapped? Where are you calling from? Is everything alright?”
! “Why do you always worry about me?” She moaned into the phone. “I’m fine, I can handle myself anyway. So…what are you up to right now?”
! Shanks inhaled on the other end. “Are we going to do this here?”
! “Do what?” Trapped looked up from her nails quizzically, looking at the line of jackets on the wall.
! “Erm…” Shanks cleared his throat. “Are you we going to have that ‘phone sex’ that I’ve read about? Because I’m totally not against it, it’s just early and I don’t even know where you a-”
! “NO!” Slamming her head down on the counter top, her rust colored hair fanned around her shoulders. “Shanks, we are NOT going to do that! I just want to know where you are so you can join Mia and I for lunch!”
! “You just want to go to lunch? Oh, thank it all.” He sighed into the receiver. “Okay, where are you at now?”
! “That horrid restaurant with the fish head. Everyone here is a hick or stupid.”
! “Except you, I bet. Is everyone there jealous of Mia being able to sit with a girl like you?”
! “ANYWAY.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just come down here. We’re going to talk about Gypsy’s latest racket with King of Hearts.”
! “…She got Law?”
! “Of course, well, not officially. You know about that THING they had. He’d gobble up her offer the second she threw the bait.”