Chapter 29

Everyone was bound to run out of luck at some point, and as he glanced at the stack of papers sitting next to the sink as he finished shaving, it looked like it was finally his turn.

A familiar News Coo had dropped off the bounty posters - and only the bounty posters - just as he'd been finishing up his turn on night watch. After seeing Vertara's face on the top page, he'd given the bird some fish and an extra five thousand Beri as thanks, gratefully nodding at the bird before the albatross flew off. He'd put off immediately seeing what the damage was in favor of getting some shut-eye, but he couldn't avoid it forever.

The sheaf of wanted posters almost seemed to mock him as he rinsed and put away his razor, fully aware that he was stalling and not giving a damn. Patting his face dry, he sighed. Time to face the music, he thought, heading back into his room to look through the bounties.

First in the pile, the image of 'Man-Eater' Vertara grinned up at him, fangs bared and dripping blood, the lower half of her face and down to her shoulders already covered in red. Her beaded necklace was partially shown, but the picture cut off at her collarbone (which was good, because he thought she might have lost her top at some point before it was taken). Wanted for murder, arson and cannibalism and worth fifty million Beri, not bad.

Next was 'Joker's' Wilde. The brat's picture showed him posing, crouched on a wall mid-escape, head turned so that the photographer got a good shot of his face, smirk clearly visible. Was the kid part peacock or something? Marshall lamented, shaking his head. Wanted for theft and worth sixty million Beri simply due to the value of what he stole.

'Black Orchid' Olivia was an interesting one; worth twenty million Beri and apparently wanted for assault and...grave-robbing? He paused, a bit confused by the grave-robbing charge until he remembered oh yeah, the thing on Melinoe Island. Did it still count as grave-robbing if the owners of the grave said it was okay to take the stuff? He wondered. Shaking his head, he looked back at the bounty picture and snorted, because the image showed her in full High Priestess mode standing in front of several dead trees, fog flowing around her feet, a haughty look on her face. Dressed in a long sleeved black dress with a deep V in the front reaching almost to her navel and a long slit in the right side up to mid-thigh, both gaps bridged by a spiderweb design of almost glowing violet thread, she looked like a dark queen deigning to look upon unworthy peasants.

'Slaughter Sword' Feral was worth forty million Beri. For mass murder. A moment's pause and he admitted that yeah, that fit. Her picture was a side view of her face contorted in an expression of pure rage, several strands of dark green hair flying across her face as the photographer caught her mid-turn.

Even Trax had a bounty, though it was only ten thousand and he was listed as Feral's pet.

Flipping through the pages to search for a particular name, he paused when he got to the end before going through them again, this time more slowly.

Nothing.

Mildly surprised not to see the name he'd been expecting, he lowered the pages and stared blankly at the wall. After a moment, he blinked and said, "Huh." Feeling like he'd just dodged a bullet, he went to find the rest of his crew.

Stepping out onto the deck in time to hear Vertara summarizing some of their recent adventures for the kid (Rune something?) he'd picked up right before his latest rampage, he announced, "right, got a surprise for you lot!" Waving the papers he'd brought with him for emphasis. He handed the bundle to a curious Wilde who quickly spread them out on the deck, stepping back and crossing his arms as the others gathered around the thief.

Happy exclamations and sour complaints rang out, Wilde throwing his hands up with a jubilant shout while Vertara grumbled that she should have been worth more. Trax chuffed as though saying, 'what are you complaining about?', feline face disgruntled at the low number beneath his picture. Marshall inwardly snorted because compared to Chopper's bounty in the future the tiger's was downright decent.

It was Olivia who noticed it first.

"Captain, where's your poster?" The doctor asked, mildly confused as she searched the pieces of paper for his name.

"Don't have one." He answered bluntly, shrugging at his crew's incredulous looks.

"You're joking!" Wilde blurted out, joining the others in gaping when he shook his head and assured them that no, he really didn't have one. Joining Olivia in her search, after five minutes Wilde said, more than a little dumbfounded, "guys, he really doesn't have one."

Vertara was the one who asked, "why doesn't Captain have one? He's Captain!"

Feral growled, sounding reluctant, and Olivia snapped her fingers, nodding in agreement, "Captain doesn't usually leave survivors, and even when he doesn't kill everyone, a lot of details can get lost in the chaos so no one could say for sure he was responsible."

"Right, not many people live after seeing captain doing something wrong and those that do are so grateful captain killed the other people that they'd never turn him in." Wilde nodded, Marshall sending the thief a distinctly unimpressed look as the others made noises of agreement, the new kid included.

Why had he brought the kid with them again?...oh yeah, the whole warning him about the plot to kill his crew thing, right, right, now he remembered. Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, he bit out. "Haki training. Now." Seeing the small smile on the new kid's face, Marshall chuckled evilly, "don't relax just yet kid, you get to join in!"

Trepidation flashed across Rune's face, especially when he noticed the sympathetic looks the older members of the crew were sending him.

What had he gotten himself into...?

Rune was ten years old, the boy told him later that night as Marshall made himself comfortable for first watch, the kid slipping out of the shadows like a ghost to settle in next to him.

Dark eyes, dark hair and pale skin, the boy reminded him a lot of Rouge's musician Tabitha. The kid barely reached his knees but exuded the kind of chilly aura that made him think of looking into an open grave. The kind of creeping dread that said death was coming, and coming for you. A bit of practice and how short the kid was wouldn't matter, if he could use that to keep an opponent still long enough to land a decisive blow.

The story the kid told him a quiet, halting voice was about what he expected, but that didn't mean he liked being right.

Born to parents who believed in using poison to treat poison, Rune grew up learning about toxins both natural and man-made. He learned quickly, the island he lived on was rife with poisoners so there was no shortage of learning opportunities due to accident or design. His parents were the best at working with poison, surpassing even the royal family, but they sought knowledge not to harm others but to heal them; the cause may also be the cure, they told Rune, poison treated with poison. It was only when they saved the life of the youngest princess, unknowingly getting involved in a dispute for the throne, that things began to go wrong.

A dark night, a powerful paralytic slipped into food and a single candle was all it took for his parents to die. The only reason he survived was because he was playing around with a muscle relaxant while they ate, Rune whispered, quietly as though confessing to a great sin. Continuing to live after his parents burned alive, perhaps he thought it was.

Treat poison with poison.

Repeating the philosophy until it was engraved in his heart, Rune lived for three years searching for a way to get revenge. The royal family were the poison, and he needed one stronger. He watched as countless ships, pirate, marine and otherwise docked at the island, unknowing of the danger. The lucky ones arrived between festivals and departed none the wiser. Most of them didn't. And then he saw a strange white and purple ship dock, and for the first time in years felt hope as he watched the captain decline the 'welcome' gifts.

The rest of the crew followed his lead, and Rune made his choice.

"You are the greatest poison of all," Rune told him, and Marshall understood the compliment for what it was.

At some point when he wasn't paying attention, his crew had started coating their hair with Armament, and what was worse was that they even had the tiger doing it. He didn't even know animals could learn haki!

Staring at the haki-dark tiger, he deadpanned, "what are you supposed to be, a panther?"

Trax snorted and flicked his tail. 'Please, they have nothing on me,', his smug look said. Marshall was forced to admit that yes, Trax could probably kick most panther's asses, but still.

"No one likes a braggart." He told the large cat, eye twitching when the feline responded with a scoff. It was gratifying when the tiger suddenly froze as if just then realizing what he'd done. Now that he knew animals could learn haki without a Devil Fruit that gave him an idea..."How about some one-on-one training then?" He suggested, smiling cheerfully and delighting in the tiger's terrified whimper.

Good to know his training sessions were memorable, he thought in amusement, eyeing the cowering predator.

"Captain, what are you doing?"

Not looking up from where he was tying the sails up, he answered Wilde's question. "Tying the sails up."

"Why?"

"You hear that rumbling sound?" Hearing the affirmative noise from the thief, he continued, "that would be the Knock-Up Stream beneath us." Ignoring the curious 'the what?' he continued, "since I don't want to have to replace the sails, I'm tying them out of the way so they aren't too badly damaged." Giving the knot he was working on one final tug to make sure it was secure, he called down, "Vertara, you ready on the Dial control panel?!"

"Yes!"

"Good! Make sure not to hit the button until I say so!"

Wilde cut in, Olivia next to him looking concerned as the teen demanded to know what was going on, a panicked look on his face.

A manic grin on his face, Marshall announced, the sea beginning to swell beneath the ship, "brace yourselves for the ride of your lives! We're going to a Sky Island!" Before his crew could do more than grab hold of the nearest sturdy object, the Stream let loose with a thunderous roar, catapulting the Coddi straight up. As the Coddi rose above the clouds, he bellowed. "Now!"

The Jet Dials switched on, lifting them even higher. There wasn't a sea of clouds nearby, but why not have some fun when the Coddi could fly? His crew gradually calmed down when the ship didn't start plummeting towards the sea, looking around in amazement as Coddi sailed through the sky. When the White Sea once more stretched out before him, Marshall threw his head back and laughed.

"Zehahaha!"

The Sky Island they eventually landed at was called Valhallia and populated by the Valkira, a predominantly female race ruled by King Wodin.

A war-loving people, the Valkira respected strength, which would normally be okay except they landed right as Wodin's brother Rankor decided to rebel against his brother and both sides thought they were helping the other. What followed was pure chaos, so it was understandable that something like the date slipped his mind.

It was as he was punching Rankor in the face that he remembered that oh yeah, today was his birthday.