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 Even airheads can be emperors! [Episode]

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Gray

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Name : Gray Starks
Epithet : The Conqueror (Formerly "Black Fist")
Age : 49
Race : Cyborg
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Super Veteran (Former Yonkou)
Crew : Black Fist Pirates (Destroyed)
Ship : Fistful AKA "The Fist" (Destroyed)
Crew Position : Captain (Former)
Devil Fruit : Pressure-Pressure Fruit
Haoshoku : 9
Busoshoku | Kenbunshoku : 9
Attack (ATK) : 750
Defense (DEF) : 600
Reflex (RX) : 655
Willpower (WP) : 600
Level : 100
Experience Points : 10000
Bounty : 2,500,000,000
Income Multiplier : +10%
Berries : 25,000,000,000


Posts : 1163

PostSubject: Even airheads can be emperors! [Episode]   Thu Nov 30, 2017 5:01 pm






Quest Information:
 

"...and then without any warning, she just kicked him in the balls! Gahahahahaha!"

"Chaaaahohohoho!" The fat man slapped the overburdened table repeatedly, his hand clutching at his chest in a miserably failed attempt at self-control. He convulsed in his guffaw as if he were having a seizure, causing some of the less festive guests of the establishment to shake their heads and frown in embarrassment.

This was Mock Town, the port city of Jaya, one of the more lawless civilized islands of Grand Line. This humor-filled ruckus was pouring into the streets from within the walls of one of the most popular taverns of Mock Town; "The Singing Skeleton", it was named, for who knows what reason. The owner of the business, the fat man slamming away at his own property, was short and grey-haired. His nose was curved—akin to a parrot's beak—and his features were withered. Yet, the man seemed full of energy and enthusiasm, as evident from his laughing fit.

The man sharing in this hilarity was uncomfortably tall and broad for the size of the dining hall, seated on the floor for there was no chair big enough for his gigantism. With a charcoal cloak draped over his shoulders—topped with warm and fuzzy tan fur—and no fabric on his torso besides the bandages wrapped around his upper waist, one could almost mistake him for an eccentric homeless man if it were not for his unusually advanced robotic arm. A trimming of his scruffy beard was long overdue, and his shaggy red-brown hair aided this image by no amount. The man also wore unnotable baggy pants and a pair of brown sandals which lent him very little inclusivity in the "respectable gentleman" sort.

His robotic arm winced and squeaked silently within the snorting and howling, barely announcing its existence. The laughter of the two loons stood out within the confines of the building, but they were not the only ones entertained—joined by the chuckles of men sitting around them, their center table surrounded by near half-a-dozen folk listening in.

"Whatcha end up doing wit’ her?" The fat man asked curiously. The man-in-black replied with a cocked brow, "What do you mean what did we do with her? We laughed about it and gave her a pat on the back for having more balls than the nitwit she kicked." The response only amplified the noise.  "Chaaaahohohoho! Chaaahohoho! Stop--Stop it!" Some of the disapproving guests continued to pout and murmur grumpily, clearly irritated by the man's lack of a volume dial. But the discontent was entirely overlooked by the audience of the man-in-black.

The light through the windows was donning an evening hue. And the wind was now restless, the day making its way to an overcast night. The streets without the walls of the Singing Skeleton were not at all lacking in populace. The setting sun meant nothing to the shady, transient residents of Mock Town; many of which were present at this establishment tolerating the unwelcome entertainment of the half-giant and the owner, with no balls to challenge the nuisance.

Word Count: 501
Tags: @Baltroy
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Baltroy

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TrackerBioFighting StyleEquipment

Name : Alice Baltroy Ronx
Epithet : Flying Dart
Age : 22
Race : Human
Faction : New Revolutionary Army
World Position : Commander
Crew : Bonbon X
Ship : Wonderland Hatch
Crew Position : Captain
Haoshoku : 5
Busoshoku | Kenbunshoku : 5
Attack (ATK) : 290
Defense (DEF) : 300
Reflex (RX) : 345
Willpower (WP) : 320
Level : 51
Experience Points : 5150
Bounty : 172,000,000
Income Multiplier : +10%
Berries : 8,300,000

Posts : 95

PostSubject: Re: Even airheads can be emperors! [Episode]   Mon Dec 04, 2017 2:01 am







Don't cause a scene~!





A new fool was in town and it had the lowest of low merchants bustling excitedly. Mock Town might not have been best known for its abundance in merchants and in fact, many preferred to steer well away from dealing business with pirates and it took some guts or lack of brains to do so, but it didn’t stop the fire alighting in the wannabes at the prospect of an easy scam. The fool might have also been an easy target for pickpocketing, but fortunately for him, he had his opponents confused in that aspect.

Sure, he was dressed well enough with a lavish suit, a polished silver brooch glistening on his collar and golden chains holding his expensive-looking mantle to his shoulder. But what was perhaps so bizarre about him was the hand-drawn wagon behind him, piled so high with an assortment of rubbish that looked ready to topple any minute now.

The thieves might have thought twice about robbing this one now, but the sneaky merchants with more refined speeches were ready to try their hand. Who knew what exactly it was that encouraged them: the boyish face despite clearly being well past his teens, the innocent amber eyes that shone at every little interest that passed him or the giant grin plastered across his face even as he skipped over a pile of human dung on the very street he walked.

Whatever it was, all could definitely agree it had to be the way he openly gushed and raved over the strangest of trinkets through the grimy windows of the even grimier shops. A shadow from a cloud lapsed over the town, but it did little to put a dim on the sunshine that was Alice B. Ronx. He couldn’t really help being anything but the centre of attention in a town of crooks, so it really couldn’t be the fault of the crooks if they decided to take his every penny, right?

“Hey, kid!” hollered a weasel-like pirate with a cigarette hanging loosely off his lip. He was crouching over a measly array of blackened coins, cracked plates and even a dirty shoe, ready to be the first in the long line of criminals already plotting their own scheme. “I have just the thing you might be interested in.”

The “kid” was immediately caught. There was no need for hook, line or sinker.

“Show me!” he demanded excitedly and even the pirate was taken aback by surprise to see the mad dash Ronx had made to appear before his “stall” in a flash. He had moved so fast that even the mountain on his wagon had failed to move even an inch. It was almost as though he had teleported.

“Uh, right,” coughed the pirate, before reaching into his bag of graceful words. “Feel free to browse my wares as you see fit, but if I could bring your attention to these beauties here.”

“Oh!” Ronx’s eyes lit up at the handful of crusty coins, blackened with rust. “They are beautiful! I’ll take them all!” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a red drawstring bag. “Here! They look so wonderful I’ll give you everything I have!”

The pirate’s eyes widened with shock and he grabbed the bag, swiftly exchanging them for the dirty coins. Caressing the heaviness of the pouch, he cackled crassly. “Pleasure doing business with you, kid!”

“Same to you!” said Ronx cheerfully, taking his leave with a hearty wave. “Such a good find today!” He carefully arranged the coins into an empty pouch retrieved from the wagon before placing it carefully on top of the growing pile. “Mock Town is such a nice place~”

He had just made it down the street and was ready to turn the corner when he heard an infuriated, “HEY!!”





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Gray

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TrackerBioFighting StyleEquipment

Name : Gray Starks
Epithet : The Conqueror (Formerly "Black Fist")
Age : 49
Race : Cyborg
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Super Veteran (Former Yonkou)
Crew : Black Fist Pirates (Destroyed)
Ship : Fistful AKA "The Fist" (Destroyed)
Crew Position : Captain (Former)
Devil Fruit : Pressure-Pressure Fruit
Haoshoku : 9
Busoshoku | Kenbunshoku : 9
Attack (ATK) : 750
Defense (DEF) : 600
Reflex (RX) : 655
Willpower (WP) : 600
Level : 100
Experience Points : 10000
Bounty : 2,500,000,000
Income Multiplier : +10%
Berries : 25,000,000,000


Posts : 1163

PostSubject: Re: Even airheads can be emperors! [Episode]   Fri Dec 08, 2017 10:35 am






A violent coughing fit was sure to come for the fat innkeeper with these unrestrained humorous tales. And so it did. Huffing and puffing and wheezing, the owner gasped for air. ”Pardon the intrusion”, said the cyborg, only a moment before the unhealthy outburst ceased abruptly. The onlookers, previous audience and miscellaneous alike, stared at the scene with concern and now confusion.

The bulky man stood up, dusting himself off before letting slip a playful “oops”. ”Thanks for that, Gray-san.” The others remained in puzzlement, unsure of what exactly the black-cloaked man was being thanked for. ”You should take better care of yourself, Horace. Don’t be in a hurry to leave Olivia and Ethan all by themselves. Gahahaha.” The cyborg offered him an undersized glass of water, the proprietor accepting it gratefully and downing it in a single gulp before clearing his throat.

The giant’s admirers began to disperse when the conversation shifted away, the two or three servers quickly engaging them to lighten their pockets some more. ”Speaking of the kid, he should’ve been back by now. That little squirt knows sunset is curfew time.”

The cyborg finally raised himself off the floor, his thick orange-brown hair nearly brushing against the low ceiling. ”Why don’t you and Olivia get started on dinner while I go look for him? He seemed excited over the new treasure peddlers in town gathering near the square. I’ll start there.” The host was interrupted by a murmur before he could even respond. ”I know what you’re going to say; quit worrying. I’ve gone four years without having made myself known beyond helping. I’ll keep away from prying eyes.”

“The Conqueror”, “Black Fist” - Gray Starks had journeyed all the seven seas countless times over. As if I’d let myself be caught after all this time. But, the world never had any obligation to bend to his determination. And it’s not as if his continued existence was entirely a secret, especially to a certain intelligence organization known for its behind-the-scenes monopoly of world-shaking information.

Having none of the owner’s protests, Gray exited the building, freeing the evening clientele from his raucous shenanigans. The streets of Mock Town were a litter-fest. There was no mayoral association nor an alliance of regulars who dained to look after the municipal needs of the city. After all, such measures would only introduce the one thing that folk came here to avoid—taxes.

Mock Town was a paradise for divers and scavengers. The many gravesites of ships falling from the skies in an attempt to reach the legendary Sky Islands via the Knock-Up stream made the waters around Jaya a treasure trove for such enthusiasts. And the competition over said artifacts was well known to be fierce and lethal. And, true to its reputation, there were many hawkers claiming to sell artifacts from the Sky Islands when he neared the market. So obviously fake, it’s laughable. And yet, there were always fools who believed the scamming spinsters when they weaved wondrous tales for their star-eyed victims. One such one-eyed swindler was shouting of a new hoard of authentic relics for sale, matching the spirit of an adrift sailor at the sight of land.

Though Gray may have been skeptical of the legitimacy of these happy announcements, it was likely that a curious child like Ethan might be tempted out of his poise if he’d heard the same words. And in hopes of finding this lamb, the shepherd-to-be followed the slowly shuffling crowd of shifty shoppers towards this exhibition of ancient ornaments, calming his senses to probe for the boy.

[Kenbunshoku Passive Toggled]


Word Count: 588
Tags: @Baltroy
Notes: Feel free to introduce Ethan (the kid Gray’s looking for) as an NPC if you like. I don’t really have a personality planned for him (except for the fact that he likes antiques too). Maybe Alice could save him from ruffians, even if only accidentally?
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Baltroy

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TrackerBioFighting StyleEquipment

Name : Alice Baltroy Ronx
Epithet : Flying Dart
Age : 22
Race : Human
Faction : New Revolutionary Army
World Position : Commander
Crew : Bonbon X
Ship : Wonderland Hatch
Crew Position : Captain
Haoshoku : 5
Busoshoku | Kenbunshoku : 5
Attack (ATK) : 290
Defense (DEF) : 300
Reflex (RX) : 345
Willpower (WP) : 320
Level : 51
Experience Points : 5150
Bounty : 172,000,000
Income Multiplier : +10%
Berries : 8,300,000

Posts : 95

PostSubject: Re: Even airheads can be emperors! [Episode]   Sun Dec 17, 2017 1:33 am







Don't cause a scene~!





Ronx rounded a corner, panting heavily. His wagon had seen better days and the mountain of so-called “treasure” was tilted at a precarious angle. However, by some miracle unknown to man, everything still managed to remain intact and he seemingly hadn’t lost a single item throughout the wild chase. He stopped for the moment, his ears perked for the angry pirate still hounding him. When no sound resembling that of a buffalo could be heard, he shuffled past his wagon and poked his head audaciously out the corner, in a show of what he probably thought was a very covert action. Fortunately for him, the scammed scammer was nowhere in sight and Ronx let out a pent up sigh of relief. Until...

“Hey.”

“EEK!! Don’t hurt me!” squealed Ronx, leaping into the air in fright and clinging to his mountain of trash, half protective of it and half hoping it would protect him.

He glanced down to see a boy peering petulantly up at him. He was a scruffy kid; short, thin, perhaps older than he looked and his skin was splotched with dirt, made to seem darker than it really was. However, he had brilliant blue, doe-like eyes, a little too wide for his small face, and his wave of brown curls fell over his forehead as though to do what little it could to conceal them.

“Are you even a man?”
he scoffed rudely. “Men shouldn’t scream like that.”

Ronx cautiously slid down from his wagon and bent down, squatting to get on the same eye level of the child. “Men shouldn’t make fun of other men’s screams,” he retorted with a more childish air than the child he spoke to.

The kid glared at him and an small, unexpected fist collided with Ronx’s head. Taken by surprise, it took the older man several moments to realise the child had assaulted him.

“What was that for?!” he demanded, clutching his head and falling onto his rump with tears in his brimming in his eyes.

“Men don’t cry!!” snapped the boy. So harsh were his words that Ronx found himself immediately complying, squeezing his lips together to seal away the next wail and doing his best to prevent his tears of pain escaping his eyes. The boy then grabbed his senior roughly by the collar. “It pisses me off that you got those coins I wanted from that guy before me! How can a guy like you get treasure when I can’t?!”

“Coins?” repeated Ronx, thinking for a moment before a lightbulb clicked. “Oh, do you mean these?”

He quickly reached behind him with careful fingers to the pouch containing the blackened coins and tipped the contents onto his gloved palm. The boy’s eyes immediately widened and shone with admiration. He studied the coins with such deep adoration that it was enough to even move Ronx’s heart, something that usually became very possessive and selfish when it came to antiques. Honest antique lovers were so hard to come by nowadays, especially in children, and despite the child’s lack of hygiene and proper manners, Ronx couldn’t help seeing in him his own childhood.

“I’ll sell you one for 50 berry,” suggested Ronx and the boy’s eyes lifted up to meet his.

“Really?” he asked in awe, his jaw dropping. The boy immediately began patting his clothes before pulling out a single 100 berry coin from his pocket. “I’ll take two!” he announced proudly, beaming up at the blonde-haired merchant.

Grinning, Ronx exchanged his blackened coins for the boy’s grim-covered berry.

“You’re not such a bad guy, after all,” said the boy begrudgingly after the deal was done. He stared lovingly at the two coins for a moment before suddenly glancing up at the sky. Seeing the sun sinking lower and lower, he began to panic. “Oh no, it’s past my curfew. Pa is gonna kill me!”

The revolutionary glanced worriedly at him, but it was quickly masked and he smiled gently down at him. “How about I walk you home?” he suggested. “I can explain to your parents why you’re late.”

The boy’s panic melted away at his reassuring words and he exchanged a smile of relief with the revolutionary. “That would be great. Yeah, you’re not so bad. My name’s Ethan, by the way.”

“I’m Ronx,” replied the young revolutionary, feeling pride spread through him despite the approval he received was coming from a boy half his age.

“You still have a long way from becoming a man, though!” exclaimed Ethan with a chitter.





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Gray

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TrackerBioFighting StyleEquipment

Name : Gray Starks
Epithet : The Conqueror (Formerly "Black Fist")
Age : 49
Race : Cyborg
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Super Veteran (Former Yonkou)
Crew : Black Fist Pirates (Destroyed)
Ship : Fistful AKA "The Fist" (Destroyed)
Crew Position : Captain (Former)
Devil Fruit : Pressure-Pressure Fruit
Haoshoku : 9
Busoshoku | Kenbunshoku : 9
Attack (ATK) : 750
Defense (DEF) : 600
Reflex (RX) : 655
Willpower (WP) : 600
Level : 100
Experience Points : 10000
Bounty : 2,500,000,000
Income Multiplier : +10%
Berries : 25,000,000,000


Posts : 1163

PostSubject: Re: Even airheads can be emperors! [Episode]   Tue Dec 26, 2017 11:20 am






Scanning through a mass of hooligans and feisty mongrels for a single, relatively innocent child was a challenge even for a man who had spent decades mastering the colour of observation. What a masterpiece they painted on this canvas of auras—the usurers, the trappers, the robbers and pirates, and the scammers and burglars. And yet, within this bottomless pit of rogues and charlatans, Gray felt more at home than just about anywhere else.

He had always enjoyed solid anonymity in Mock Town due to its transient populace and lawless nature. And with many of the guests dipping their mandibles here only for the sake of coin or booze, none seemed to care much for a stranger’s identity unless said stranger had crossed them. (Granted, all it took to cross someone here was an accidental boot on their foot.)

He sauntered through the market, uninterested in the dubitable merchandise, weaving through one army of star-eyed customers to another. He smiled kindly and apologized to any who gave him the odd glare for interrupting their viewing of invaluable relics, successfully preventing them from reviling him for his size—something he had no dominion over.

After a slow and lazy stroll trailing the deliverer of the previous enthusiastic announcement, he reached its author. The tall and sickly thin man wore an imperial purple frock coat with golden accents. Underneath, he wore a neat white shirt, with full sleeves and frilled cuffs. On his head was a dark tricorne hat trimmed with gold also, a plume of a feather sticking out from one of its vertices. Under the hat, his hair was brown and black, frayed and wavy, and his jaws were narrow, his chin and nose curving almost comically. But, the feature he might be most recognized by was undoubtedly his facial hair. His moustache was shaped like a bolt of lightning, erratic and sharp; but the ends themselves did not end in a point. Instead, they curled into a whirlpool of hair, almost entirely cloaking his pale red cheeks.

The moustachioed man called himself “Baron le Tourbillon”, and promised the early crowd an auction of items they’d never seen before. Gray thought it all an exaggeration, for such were the promises of all auctioneers. But, this man seemed more sure of himself than any other in town. And the cherry on the cake was his powerful aura. This was no ordinary small fry.

“You! Monsieur! With the rust-bucket for an arm!” There’s not a speck of rust on it. The pilgrim was diligent in maintaining and oiling his arm, but the metal itself was incapable of oxidizing—or so its maker had claimed. Nonetheless, Gray did not argue and gave the snide call a moment of his attention. ”Yes you! Stick around, mon amie, I have just the upgrade you’ve been looking for!” The cyborg half-smiled, noticing the fanatic gaze of some mecha-lo-maniacs around him who’d surely be looking forward to bidding on such an item. He simply nodded and shrugged, knowing auctioneers had a habit of singling out folk to fuel the zeal of the remainder of the audience.

Once the baron had moved on to pick on some other holder of an item of interest, Gray unobtrusively reversed himself out of the crowd. With many of the streets emptying into this square, the shepherd had detected his stray lamb. With an invisibly quick leap, he climbed up the tiled roof of a nearby barber shop—one he might’ve patronized if it weren’t for the growling stomach and lingering concern for the young one.

After crossing two buildings, with light steps aided by his ability so as not to collapse the roof under his weight, he loomed over the boy and another. A golden-haired young man dressed in an all too elegant attire was in Ethan’s company. He might’ve thought him to be a scammer, had he not seemed familiar somehow. Then again, he had known many-a-swindler too, so that could very well still be a possibility.

Seeing the outfits of the baron and now this princely figure, it seemed like a day for fanciful clothes, and he felt utterly out of place, despite the expensive quality of his mantle and mechanized arm.

He observed the pair for a while, taking note of their debatably friendly interaction. He couldn’t escape this nagging familiarity he felt towards the prince, failing to pinpoint its origin. And his unquestionably strong aura was even more recognizable than his figure. With his curiosity and his mission intersecting so conveniently, he dropped down onto the street like a cat, overbearing the two from the rear. His friendly smile might have been almost intimidating with his eyes veiled by the shade and his voice grounded by an uncomfortable gravity.

”Won’t you introduce me too, Ethan?”

Word Count: 792
Tags: @Baltroy
Notes: -
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Baltroy

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TrackerBioFighting StyleEquipment

Name : Alice Baltroy Ronx
Epithet : Flying Dart
Age : 22
Race : Human
Faction : New Revolutionary Army
World Position : Commander
Crew : Bonbon X
Ship : Wonderland Hatch
Crew Position : Captain
Haoshoku : 5
Busoshoku | Kenbunshoku : 5
Attack (ATK) : 290
Defense (DEF) : 300
Reflex (RX) : 345
Willpower (WP) : 320
Level : 51
Experience Points : 5150
Bounty : 172,000,000
Income Multiplier : +10%
Berries : 8,300,000

Posts : 95

PostSubject: Re: Even airheads can be emperors! [Episode]   Mon Jan 01, 2018 3:33 am







Don't cause a scene~!





It soon became apparent Ronx wasn’t exactly the most suitable escort, especially when there were dubious merchants—the blonde revolutionary being among them—hawking left and right, attempting to sell whatever dubious goods they had in their dubious hands. It didn’t help that the escortee’s attention was also easily bought and his eyes was constantly lit up at every turn of his head. It might have only been by sheer luck the two had managed to keep from seperating, largely because both followed the same manner of instinct and shared the same taste in antiques: all of them. One pirate would hoot he bore riches excavated from an ancient ruin, two heads would turn; another with heavy dreadlocks covering his entire face like a mop claimed...he didn’t even have to finish his sentence and two boys of the same mental age came dashing to his carpet.

“Stop getting in my way, Ronx,” snapped Ethan, the first to lose his patience. “It’s not like a man.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” contested Ronx haughtily, turning his nose skyward. “I was clearly here first!”

“Noww, now, boyzz, theere’s eenough for evvveryone,” said dreadlocks lazily, his body tilting back and forth like a pendulum. “Whaat’s you boyzz faancy?”

“I’ll give you, uh...these for that necklace!” responded Ethan quickly, forcing himself in front of the revolutionary and holding up his fist.

“Lesseee lesseee,” chuckled dreadlocks, taking what he offered. He uncurled his hands and peered through his curtain of hair at the blackened coins. “Lesseeee…” he mumbled. His rocking stopped abruptly. “What’s this, are you mocking me?!!” he roared, pelting the coins back. “Scram, you nobodies!!”

Ronx screamed and bolted without a second thought—having been in such circumstances more than enough times to know that it was better to run first and wonder later. He grabbed Ethan by the collar, but the scamp was already taking off with his black coins in his hands, sprinting like a gazelle. They rounded a corner and with dreadlocks out of sight, they almost sighed with relief, but when they turned, they came face-to-face with a weasel-like pirate. The pirate’s eyes widened with surprise. Goodness, he looks awfully familiar, thought Ronx, before screaming again. Ethan glanced up at the pirate and echoed the scream.

And again they flew. “Get back here with my coins, you fake noble!” bellowed the pirate, taking chase immediately.

“Wait, he’s not my problem!” realised Ethan with a gasp, mid-flight. “Alright, Ronx, it’s been great knowing you. You can deal with this, you’re a man aren’t you?”

“Hold on, you traitor!” shrieked Ronx. “Don’t leave me!”

“Ronx...I forgot to mention this, but I have an disease,”
said Ethan grimly, still continuing to run beside him. “It’s called I-can’t-run-from-angry-people-who-aren’t-my-problem-or-I’ll-die disease.”

“That’s an awfully long name,” chirped Ronx, momentarily forgetting why he was even running, just that he was.

“The longer the name, the more ter-ter-” he hesitated.

“Terminal?” offered Ronx.

“Yes! Terminal!” brightened Ethan. “Wait, what’s terminal?”

“I don’t know.”

“Stop right there, you punks!!”

“I remember now, I have terminal I-can’t-run-from-angry-people-who-aren’t-my-problem-or-I’ll-die disease!!” screamed Ethan. “Wait, did he say punks with a plural?”

“Maybe he knows you’re with me,” suggested Ronx.

“Dammit, this is all your fault!!” screamed Ethan angrily. “You still have a long way to becoming a man!”

Several moments later, the two stood panting heavily behind a barber store, bracing themselves against Ronx’s cart. Outside in the din, three men still searched avidly for the runaways, two of which Ethan had crossed earlier when he had spewed insults and words he didn’t quite understand fully himself at a pair of merchants who had refused to sell a rusty old bell for 100 berries.

“I think we’ll be safe for the time being,” gasped Ethan between breaths, while Ronx fretfully checked the contents of his cart to ensure nothing had been lost during the scramble.

Suddenly a hulking shape landed behind them and Ronx felt an overbearing aura radiating from figure, pressing down so heavily, the revolutionary felt his breath catch in his throat. He shrieked. Ethan screamed and leapt into Ronx’s arms.

“Please spare the boy, he’s just a boy,” sobbed Ronx, half clinging onto Ethan.

“Since he insists, please spare me,”
agreed Ethan, weeping openly.

“You traitor!”

“You’re a man! Oh, hey isn’t that Gray?”

“Gray!” gasped Ronx with relief, releasing Ethan and opened his arms almost as though to embrace the giant man. “Oh you know him, thank goodness. I have never been more glad to see you, Gray.”

“You know him?” asked Ethan, glancing up at him in surprise.

Ronx paused, sweeping his amber eyes over the man’s profile, his eyes stopping at his robotic arm, barely suppressing an interested gleam. There was something very familiar about that arm, he thought and for some startling reason, he found himself recalling an old companion whom he had last seen in Alabaster.

“Oh!” he gasped suddenly and spun around, digging into the mountain of antiques on his cart for a moment. He burrowed until only his legs were visible and Ethan eyed the top of the mountain nervously. Finally Ronx emerged again, his golden hair even messier than it had been earlier and in his hand, he held a mask painted in indigo and shaped like the face of a raven. He donned it and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “No, I don’t know him,” he said, failing to recall anything and dropped his arm, but made no move to remove the mask. “Oh, but isn’t this a lovely mask?”

“Yes, it is,” sighed Ethan with adoring admiration. “How much is it?”

“It’s not for sale!” snapped Ronx defensively.

The boy pouted with disappointment before turning back to the behemoth of a man. “This is Ronx,” he explained. “He’s a little weird, but it doesn’t take long to get used to it.”

“Hey! But nice to meet you, Gray.”

STATS TRACKER:
 
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cait at btn





________________________________________________________
Alice B. Ronx at your service~

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Even airheads can be emperors! [Episode]
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Revival Dawn - One Piece RP :: Roleplay :: Grand Line :: Paradise :: Jaya-
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