I scared my beta.
Nov. 30th, 2005 10:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chibi_trillianMy random geeky squee moment of the day: I saw a Kingdom of Loathing bumper sticker on a car. I almost ran off the road.
My painful geeky squee moment of the day: Listened to Great Big Sea's "Rant & Roar" while thinking about One Piece. Snerked soda.
Sanji's Uke-Uke Fruit Adventure: Interlude
Series = One Piece = not mine.
Rated: R. For real, this time.
On a pirate ship deep in the heart of the Grand Line, something is amiss.
The sails hang slack, half-drawn, and the rigging has acquired some most unusual ornamentation that swings gently with the rocking of the ship. The deck appears to be painted a mottled red, and is littered with quiet, still forms. A plague banner stirs in what little wind there is, assuring that the ship will be left alone by all but the most foolhardy and those greedy enough to risk illness to plunder unprotected treasure. In time, the ship will either be taken by unusually bold scrappers, destroyed by Marines, or sunk by the elements.
An illness, the few people who actually care will say later. The one that showed up near Alabasta, the one that drives people mad and causes them to kill themselves. So tragic, and it hits so fast. Everyone is lucky that it has confined itself to a double handful of ships and one small town.
The treasure in the holds is untouched. There is no evidence of any hand other than the crew’s on the ship. In fact, there is only one thing missing on the entire vessel. In the navigator’s cabin, past the slumped corpse of the navigator, there is a case that used to hold three lockposts and one Eternal Post.
The Eternal Post is gone.
****
Gato shivered silently and waited for his captain to notice him.
Once upon a time, he’d been a member of the most cutthroat, most ruthless, most bloodthirsty pirate crew in the East Blue. He’d been proud of it; he’d thought that nothing could frighten him anymore. They and their clever captain with his thousand plans were going places, and no one could stop them.
He knew better now. His so-clever captain was still going places, but they were places that Gato would rather die than reach. He would gladly trade both his legs and one of his arms to be out of here, off this tiny ship, and hidden under a rock so far away that the captain would never find him.
And if the captain told him to speak his thoughts right here, right now, he’d get his death-wish. The captain had been merely cruel before. He was sociopathically ruthless now. The only reason Gato was still capable of drawing breath was because he served a necessary purpose. The second he ceased to have a reason to exist, he would also cease existing.
The captain’s glasses glinted as he turned his head slightly. He made the slight twitch of fingers and hand that meant “Speak.” Thank any and all gods that might be listening, the captain was either in a good mood or tired from his exertion earlier. He spoke rarely nowadays, and anything that made such occasions rarer brought a fragment of joy to Gato’s trembling heart.
“We recovered an Eternal Post to the island of Laguardia this time, sir. We hung the plague banners as usual. We left no trace and found no members of the crew strong-willed enough to resist your commands and require your, um, personal attentions. Even their captain shot himself with very little hesitation, it appeared. The navigator looked like he may have come close, but he eventually drove one of his pens through his eye so it may simply have been lack of available weaponry in his cabin. The wind you bespoke is holding steady and driving us directly towards the island of Dulles. There have been no problems with the ship or the crew worth noting. End of report, sir.”
There was silence in the cabin for a moment. Then the captain leaned forward, picked up the Eternal Post, cradled it in his hands, and purred a single word.
“Good.”
As soon as that word entered his ears, Gato thought he was going to die of pleasure. In some ways, this ability of the captain’s frightened him more than any other that that horrid Devil Fruit had granted. Reward or punishment—either could find you as long as you could hear the captain’s voice.
The captain settled back in his high-backed chair and negligently gestured that Gato was free to leave. Gato staggered out, his body still wracked with the aftereffects of that single word.
As the door closed, Gato saw the captain smile faintly at the tiny compass that was a stepping stone to his ultimate goal and push his glasses up with the palm of his hand.
My painful geeky squee moment of the day: Listened to Great Big Sea's "Rant & Roar" while thinking about One Piece. Snerked soda.
Sanji's Uke-Uke Fruit Adventure: Interlude
Series = One Piece = not mine.
Rated: R. For real, this time.
On a pirate ship deep in the heart of the Grand Line, something is amiss.
The sails hang slack, half-drawn, and the rigging has acquired some most unusual ornamentation that swings gently with the rocking of the ship. The deck appears to be painted a mottled red, and is littered with quiet, still forms. A plague banner stirs in what little wind there is, assuring that the ship will be left alone by all but the most foolhardy and those greedy enough to risk illness to plunder unprotected treasure. In time, the ship will either be taken by unusually bold scrappers, destroyed by Marines, or sunk by the elements.
An illness, the few people who actually care will say later. The one that showed up near Alabasta, the one that drives people mad and causes them to kill themselves. So tragic, and it hits so fast. Everyone is lucky that it has confined itself to a double handful of ships and one small town.
The treasure in the holds is untouched. There is no evidence of any hand other than the crew’s on the ship. In fact, there is only one thing missing on the entire vessel. In the navigator’s cabin, past the slumped corpse of the navigator, there is a case that used to hold three lockposts and one Eternal Post.
The Eternal Post is gone.
****
Gato shivered silently and waited for his captain to notice him.
Once upon a time, he’d been a member of the most cutthroat, most ruthless, most bloodthirsty pirate crew in the East Blue. He’d been proud of it; he’d thought that nothing could frighten him anymore. They and their clever captain with his thousand plans were going places, and no one could stop them.
He knew better now. His so-clever captain was still going places, but they were places that Gato would rather die than reach. He would gladly trade both his legs and one of his arms to be out of here, off this tiny ship, and hidden under a rock so far away that the captain would never find him.
And if the captain told him to speak his thoughts right here, right now, he’d get his death-wish. The captain had been merely cruel before. He was sociopathically ruthless now. The only reason Gato was still capable of drawing breath was because he served a necessary purpose. The second he ceased to have a reason to exist, he would also cease existing.
The captain’s glasses glinted as he turned his head slightly. He made the slight twitch of fingers and hand that meant “Speak.” Thank any and all gods that might be listening, the captain was either in a good mood or tired from his exertion earlier. He spoke rarely nowadays, and anything that made such occasions rarer brought a fragment of joy to Gato’s trembling heart.
“We recovered an Eternal Post to the island of Laguardia this time, sir. We hung the plague banners as usual. We left no trace and found no members of the crew strong-willed enough to resist your commands and require your, um, personal attentions. Even their captain shot himself with very little hesitation, it appeared. The navigator looked like he may have come close, but he eventually drove one of his pens through his eye so it may simply have been lack of available weaponry in his cabin. The wind you bespoke is holding steady and driving us directly towards the island of Dulles. There have been no problems with the ship or the crew worth noting. End of report, sir.”
There was silence in the cabin for a moment. Then the captain leaned forward, picked up the Eternal Post, cradled it in his hands, and purred a single word.
“Good.”
As soon as that word entered his ears, Gato thought he was going to die of pleasure. In some ways, this ability of the captain’s frightened him more than any other that that horrid Devil Fruit had granted. Reward or punishment—either could find you as long as you could hear the captain’s voice.
The captain settled back in his high-backed chair and negligently gestured that Gato was free to leave. Gato staggered out, his body still wracked with the aftereffects of that single word.
As the door closed, Gato saw the captain smile faintly at the tiny compass that was a stepping stone to his ultimate goal and push his glasses up with the palm of his hand.
