Mr. Q, First Swordsman of the Mist

Twisting in a huff of air like a dancer, limbs moving in awkward weird positions Q took the attack quite well. Thrown through the air like a ragdoll by some disillusioned menacing gigantic brat of a baby, he snarled. The mask took in his growl, and mechanized it, deepening it and providing a bass that shook the alley in which the two combatants found themselves sequestered. The light that twinkled into the cool corner of the world, these beings found themselves in reflected off the twisting collidiscope of colors that made up the mask that hid the true features of the man known as Q. The landing was actually graceful following the snarl, which had no doubt reached the other's ears. It was almost as if Q lowered gravity, as his feet twisted to the right angles to hit the pavement below him. Bouncing from that position, the force took him farther backwards towards the alley wall. Not that it mattered, as he would soon reverse it. Shooting back at his attacker after shifting his arms behind him he flipped up seemingly pausing mid air before landing on the roof top above looking down at the other. If the mask had not been concealing himself, a tongue would have then darted out to mock the other Ninja. However the mask was on, and Q knew better than to waste time as his glove shot out pure bolts of power showering the street below in a mass of lightly colored energy blasts.

"I'm still here" a voice shrieked over the din of noise below. Well the noise was below, the voice was above of course shifting the glove up was an easy matter. Knowing that now the other Ninja was close enough, Q shifted his hand from that of a fist aiming, to a palm aim. This in turn began to draw the spirit out of his foe, a painful experience to say the least.

Of course who was this attacker, and why was he attacking? Well thats to be found out later, along with how the rest of the fight goes.
"Yes come in" Q rumbled as he sat lounging on the couch. On the left armrest, Q's skull was resting at a fourty five degree angle, well maybe not exactly but you get the picture. His feet were kicking lightly into the air above and past the opposing armrest as the man looked up at the black door from which the knocking sounds originated. The question now was who could possibly be disturbing him at this hour? The only light was the dim blue glow of the tv within the building the ninja had occupied. The windows, the ones which were not blocked off by the little white monsters of mayhem that can never be pulled to the exact spot you want, portrayed a dark landscape in which only tiny spot lights of seeming lightning bugs fluttered around hundreds of yards away. While those lights were not bugs, but street lights they provided the same amount of illumination. The rest of the apartment, does not really concern me nor do I wish to detail something nobody else cares about. As such I will not explain it, simply the black door that now swung open ushering in a flood of light which scoured the darkness away. It was much like a small child being placed in front of a dam, before that dam collapsed. The darkness stood now chance and was now banished to the corners of Q's room.

"Oh herro" the voice said as the black outline of a small person blocked some of the light from scrubbing away the darkness. Seeing and hearing, hell even smelling the bitch Q got rather pissed off and wondered if it was okay to slam the door in her face, before deciding to do so. With a loud boom, the thing swung the opposite way it just had and probably hit the person in the door sell too. Of course before this Q had jumped up, and jumped again soaring through the air before snapping out a leg in a sweep, slamming the door. While this would have shattered most doors, the iron door was okay especially since Q withheld himself.

The woman, was someone from his past...a person whom he did not like obviously. That much should be apparent to even the most vapid of readers of course.

Sitting there, sipping from his drink Q scanned the room. It was empty for the most part, not that it bothered the ninja to be so. In fact it was much the opposite, the lack of people there was quite good for the goal he wished to achieve. That goal was simply peace, and he had gotten it as he lifted the glass to his lips again. The crimson liquid inside was some form of a cherry energy drink, he believed it was called a Rager, but Q could have been wrong. Regardless the name of the drink, mattered little.

The room was small, but not too small it was average for what people consider to be a coffee shop. The outside was filled with bricks, a window and a door. The door itself was red, and the window was quite large it was big enough to give a view of a quarter of the room or a full body of someone ordering from the counter. Not liking to have his back to the door, Q had picked a table that faced the red thing alternating looks between the two red items which were forefront on his mind.

Although doubting that someone would bust through the door and kill him, the instincts he lived with through his whole life were hard to shrug off. It was much like some gigantic blanket sprayed down with gallons of water layed over the top of him, while he could break out of it, it was far easier to just accept it's embrace and keep it in his life.

The rest of the room was standard fair for a shop that dispensed beverages, there was a total of ten tables each had four chairs around them. Black and brown affairs that gave a nice dull warm feeling to anyone who came in. The counter was occupied by the other two people in the store, an employee and what appeared to be his girlfriend. They had been talking for the past half hour, mostly back and forth "No I love you more". Needless to say, Q had drown this out as he drank.

At a total of two drinks he was feeling a bit jittery, but he was still within normal ranges of behavior. Not under the threat of bouncing off the walls, Q decided to walk out of the store(having paid for the drinks beforehand). While getting up, he stretched a bit and moved his head from side to side releasing some tension that had built up in his neck. Then he put his hands in his pockets in an odd way, just the thumbs were inside the pocket themselves the rest of the hand covered up the outside of the pockets on the blue jeans he was wearing. Sighing, and then catching one last whaft of the coffee aroma that permeated the building Q opened up the door.

Standing in front of him was an odd person who shoved Q aside before entering the building. The person in question had red eyes, I mention that feature first due to the fact that it was the oddest and that there are reoccurring red objects within this story. The man was shorter than Q by four inches, and had a gray hair that looked as if the color had been drained from it leaving it a monochromatic piece. Clad entirely in the color green, Q had to stiffle a laugh it appeared he ran into an out of shape irish jockey or something similar. Q could not place the name right now, but he knew it was those little creatures who hid gold at the end of rainbows. A horrible spot to hide something, Q thought to himself a bout of attention deficit disorder caused his thoughts to stray to the man hiding his gold.

However something was odd, while the person at the counter had welcomed him he had not welcomed this newcomer. Odd simply because he had been talking to the lady across from him when Q walked in as well. Now this could be due to the distraction I mentioned before but as Q stood outside the door, listening, he heard not a peep from inside. No order placed, no welcome, hell even the talking had stopped. Then suddenly he turned around to see the green man throttling the both of them with four arms. It had to be an illusion, and Q shook his head before he heard faint gasping.

Without a second thought he kicked down the door, well down would be too much he kicked the door in and it swung banging against the wall as he flew in with blinding speed. He wasn't sure that any of them saw him before he tackled the green man in the chest. As they fell their eyes locked, and Q was filled with terror as the face twisted and distorted into weird forms. The eyes did not change, no they pierced into his soul with a burning anger. However soon everything went dark, and Q awoke to the other two shaking him.

That of course was the first time he had seen the creature, he did not like the run in and for good cause. It kept burying itself in his head for a week like some sort of brain worm trying to lay eggs in his grey matter. Nearly puking after the last analogy Q got up out of his bed, and brushed himself off with a shudder. Well today was not going to be fun, unless some random monster appeared. Q imagined some sort of monster bait, but realized he didn't have any and when he thought of ways to rig it by himself he ran into moral obligations. Yawning he scratched his back as the scent of smoke hit him in the face. Perhaps smoking in his bedroom due to being to lazy to go outside was a dumb idea, fanning it with his hands he decided that it was.

Moving out of the cloudy room he arrived in his living room, which was next to his destination the kitchen. Doing a slow run, he jumped up and somersaulted over his couch and landed in a prone position. Like some sort of soldier he crawled his way across the soft blue carpet and onto the hard white tiles of the kitchen. From there he sprung up, and reached out to grab the handle of the fridge. Reaching inside, he went for the simple meal today although he would normally spring for something more fancy. Laziness outweighing the cook inside him he grabbed the milk and decided to eat some cereal. After this he grabbed the cereal, not lucky charms as that would have scared him since the accident but a nice friendly five hundred pound, bipedal tiger named Tony.

As he ate he stared at the box like a man reading a great novel, making oos and ahs through a mouth full of frosted sugar and milk, maybe some corn flakes or something too but that was like ten percent of it. Finishing it quickly he threw it into the realistically clean sink, and put the milk back into the fridge. This was when he decided to clothe himself for the day, and he did it in timely fashion.

Perhaps the timely fashion was aided by the sudden presence of reiatsu, and perhaps Q forgot to zip up his pants. However the ninja was out of his house, and heading towards it at a fast pace. Noting that it did not feel the same as the man's, Q sighed in relief internally. Hopefully it would be a monster so he could get some exercising in and put it out of his memory. Turning around a house he looked over to where he felt the pressure illuminating the darkness of the rest. His eyes lighted up in joy in the crisp air outside as he spotted a monster, it had many tendrils and was the color of brown puke. The short version of the creatures description was disgusting, the long was that it had three eyes that shone with little to no intelligence. Along with that it had a mouth three sizes to big for it's head, coupled with the fat, mudlike body and tendrils and you have an odd looker right there.

"Hey ugly" Q said in the most uninspired sentence fragment that ever came out of his mouth. He of course was referring to the monster, and the thing perhaps thinking the ninja would be a good meal came towards him in a shuffling manner. Giving a roar it lashed out with it's tendrils well before it could reach Q, and the ninja activated his glove bringing it up and releasing a quick shot that shredded a quarter of the writhing snake appendages on the right half of the monster's body. Undisturbed the creature continued forward towards the man, and again Q took a shot, this time it struck the thing in the chest and the monster flew backwards about five meters. It opened it's mouth and revealed three rows of tiny saw like teeth, Q knew that even if the thing was set in that position for ten minutes he could not count the number of teeth within. Nightmare fuel just seemed to follow Q around nowadays he guessed, and the ninja quickly took another shot. This time the purple bolt streaked forward, and lodged itself in the stomach of the thing before exploding and taking a hunk of the gross creature with it.

As it continued towards him, Q began to move backwards and soon it was obvious that the monster had no way of reaching him if he continued moving. With a laugh the ninja continued firing until he destroyed the thing, as it vanished Q gave a small chuckle feeling good for what he thought he was doing, protecting people. It was natural for a ninja to feel like that having the upbringing they do, but the thought that the monsters were capable of being saved was just foreign to him.

Selling off children, and raping villagers is such a piratey thing but not something Saracen could ever get the hang of in his travels. For no matter how long the man had voyaged these things just didn't appeal to him, instead he was one who fought for justice. Stealing from thieves, torturing murderers and the like. However that is enough about Saracen's character for now we must focus on what he did on this day on an island in the south blue.

It was known to most as Karate island a place with many masters of the said art, and a place were Saracen would begin his earthy dig. The sun shone brightly as the greyblue hull of his ship rose above the waves. The seas parted from the rounded top of the hull falling off it like a rainy downpour in some long lost jungle. Seagulls quacked their protest as the ship rose above from the azure depths and disturbed their flying patterns. It wasn't a large ship but neither was it small, and soon scurrying could be heard from below and the faux-boat on top would shutter with a creaking from the door that rested on the bottom of the planks. The door was a bright cherry red and was a sharp contrast with the rest of the ship but fit in well with the rest of the faux-boat that was the crow's nest. The inside of the boat was the same cherry red and hid the door quite well, the outside of the faux-boat or the hull was just a simple woody-brown. All in all the crows nest looked like some life boat for a bigger ship. Which was what Saracen wanted.

Speaking of Saracen he emerged from the door and shook his medium length black hair out of his eyes. He was dressed in just black suit pants and had a shovel hung over his left shoulder. Inside his mouth was a cigarette that had just recently been lit giving off its putrid smell, and the cherry matching the color of the door as the ash flew in the wind. The flaky particles would flutter past and move towards his destination a sandy beach filled with white-gold sand that reminded him of his homeland.

Alabasta was something that Saracen rarely brought up, it was a sore subject for him after all. One of the only times he allowed the demon that was rage to control his body was from that time. As such he didn't talk much, and thought less of the place, but the view now brought back only pleasant memories and soon a smile crossed across the pirate captain's face. It was a smirk that was stopped only for a puff from the cancer stick stuck in the man's mouth as he finally ascended the last stairs of the ladder and poked his whole body out into the sun.

Not expecting violence the man hadn't brought his giant cleaver along with him, perhaps that had been a mistake, perhaps not. Only time would tell Saracen told himself as he flexed his back and cracked his neck to relieve the tension built up there by his muscles from awkward sleep. With a yawn he dropped the shovel into a sword position on his left hip and sprung upwards into the air. With a slight twist he landed bare footed in the sand where it was wet from the waves. It seemed like a short leap but the sub was moored more than hundreds of feet off the coast, and the one fisherman who saw him do this stared shocked at Saracen who gave him a little wave.

"Hello sir, would you happen to know the laws about digging on this island here?" Saracen asked his voice with a thick accent of the desert upon it. The voice was like a hot desert wind and sounded slightly raspy yet as smooth as honey.

"Digging? Whatever for?" croaked the man, he was old and his voice revealed that more than his appearance. The fisherman was balding with a long flowing mane of white hair that dropped over his back and fell onto the dock he sat upon like a coiled snake. The dock he sat upon looked as ancient as the man himself and the water lapped up against it making soft noises which played as background music for the rest of their conversation. The pole the man held in his right hand was made of bamboo, yet Saracen guessed the man had caught some big game before. The twinkly in his eyes betrayed his calmer, old man demeanor. The old man was dressed in hip waders and flannel, but beneath the spindly looking arms Saracen sensed power. However again, only time would tell, perhaps he had some interesting stories Saracen thought to himself as he figured around for his reply.

"A certain fruit" replied Saracen after a brief moment, it was said slowly as the man had paused only to inhale his cigarette or that would be how it seemed to the other contestant in the conversation. He had to be careful with his words from here on as suddenly Saracen got the feeling they were not alone. Perhaps leaving the cleaver was an awful idea.

"Well we have to test those who wish to taste the horrid fruit, you understand don't you?" the old man said his voice turning sharp half way through as he quickly stood up his hair still being coiled on the deck due to its enormous length. As he said this four others seemingly materialized out of nowhere to surround Saracen who now grasped the shovel in both hands and spit out his cigarette.

"Come at me then, if you dare" Saracen hissed as he spread his feet and slightly hunched his back, the cigarette had been spit towards the second man who was now jumping out of it's way. Which was exactly what the Alabastian pirate wanted, and he moved quicker than a bullet shot from a gun swinging the shovel from a lower left position up towards the right in a move that would have clove the man in half from mid thigh to upper ribs had he carried his weapon. As it was now he simply sent the man leftwards towards the other two who were rushing towards him. Stealing a quick glance, Saracen noticed the old man still stood in the same spot, eyes closed as if he were preparing something. That was bad, but for now Saracen knew with a backwards jump that he needed to focus on these three for he doubted the one he hit was out of this battle yet.

Ducking his head Saracen dodged the first quick jab and he brought his skull upwards while the man's arm was still extended with a powerful jump from his legs connecting his skull to the man's elbow in a move that gave off a sickening snap that could be heard across the beach. He hadn't meant to hurt the man that bad and Saracen recoiled in horror before the third man punched him square in the chest sending him flying into the ocean and skipping across the waves like a rock. These guys may have been slower than him but their strength was definitely on his level. With a growl at himself for daring to even let his guard down for once second the man quickly maneuvered around the waves in the shallow part. Luckily he hadn't been thrown too far and his pride hurt more than the strike. Now however he was without his shovel, but all remorse was gone as the sand pirate known as Saracen passed judgement on the "fisherman". They were all guilty in his mind and now he could fight without worry, and he did so now as he sent the shovel flying towards the man he had first hit who was just getting up. It truly was just a distraction to the third man, the one who had hit him. The second was still standing although his arm slumped and it was bleeding through the sleeve. One more hit to the arm and that man wouldn't dare fight again.

The shovel clanged off the man's forehead with a dull thud and he slumped into the sands. Luckily he had been hit with the handle and not the spade, the third followed the shovel's movements and shouted a late wording and Saracen used this distraction to pay the man back with the same attack he had given to the earlier distracted pirate. Saracen's punch however sent the man even farther and may have broken his sternum.

"Stop this now, you're no match for me and you're only hurting yourselves" Saracen said his voice smooth and without any labored breathing. He said this to the still standing men, the one with the broken arm and the one he had talked to earlier. Now all he had to do was wait for a reply.

"Grab your blade, I will not stop this fight before I get my chance" the man roared as suddenly the man he injured before handed a sheathed blade to Saracen. The man looked at him in shock before taking the weapon and unsheathing it. Just in time it would seem as he brought it up to block the old man's downward chop. Saracen looked up with shock as he felt his knees grind against each other. The man was wielding an axe thrice his size. How that was possible Saracen didn't know but he suddenly gave way and rolled off to the left with a quick slash that drew first blood along the old man's left side of his torso. It was merely a flesh wound and something Saracen doubted would stop or even slow down the man at all in fact if he had to guess he would guess the man wouldn't even feel the blood that trickled down his flank spilling it's dark crimson color from a pore just below his armpit.

The scent of iron was thick in the air not only from the blood and weapons but something else Saracen gathered. It was so thick the desert pirate could taste it upon his lips and tongue it permeated his senses and irked him to no end. Not because of the mystery but because it distracted him as his opponent unloaded with slashes quicker than should have been impossible they came from awkward angles that no man holding that long a weapon could have done. Quickly blocking them and giving up land, Saracen soon once again felt the water wash away the sand that had grown along his feet. The water washed along his feet and cooled down the blood that had become heated during this battle. But that wasn't what Saracen noticed, he noticed that the weapon wasn't truly as large as it seemed it wasn't an axe either. Nay the whole thing was naught but an illusion designed for some reason that Saracen was yet to discern. What he could tell from the attacks however was that it was an odd pole armed that was bladed. Only the lower one eight of the weapon was wooden and non-bladed thus only allowing a hand hold there. Which was why the elder man hadnt slid his hands up to gain more of an advantage when the blades clashed. Someone else may not have noticed this but for Saracen who prided himself with attention to detail it was obvious as a sore thumb or a red flag waving in purgatory the red blossoming from the white nothingness. This was how out of place the style was and as such this gave Saracen a slight advantage for he could play a trick on the man, once perhaps just once but knowing the desert rogue it would be enough.

Now the only decision left for Saracen was to kill the man or not, surely he deserved it for attacking Saracen for this pathetic reason, yet Saracen was sure he killed one if not two of his companions for surely that explained the blood red sand near the man who lay perfectly still away from the battle, shovel still covering him like some make shift gravestone. The man whom he punched was still missing and judging by the time he would have had stumbled back by now but Saracen always assumed people endured like himself. This was rarely if ever the case, however Saracen was only focused on the battle as the waves crashed around them the sound of metal clanging on metal had long since blured into one continuous hum as their blades moved faster than most could watch. Quite frankly Saracen was extremely surprised that he hadn't broke the cheap katana loaned to him by the broken armed man. It would happen soon if Saracen would guess right and as such he needed his opening. Knowing that blades moved slower in water as was true with most surface things Saracen had lured the fisherman deeper into the water and they were at about hip level when he struck under cover of the water. His right foot moved forward then backward in the blink of an eye and tore the water apart exposing the sand beneath for a moment which was when the old man looked down. Using this opportunity Saracen stepped right into where the axe blade would have been and brought the pommel of the bent and battered sword upward in a violent strike that hit the man under the chin and knocked him upward violently into the air as if he were a duck taking flight off a pond. The blow was so powerful in fact that it hit the man back into the shallows, barely any water was there to break his fall.

"Are we done now? Are we finally done?" Saracen yelled at the top of his lungs, through it all that was the most energy he had expelled this whole time. He huffed afterwards and climbed out of the sea, his cigarettes were ruined and that realization just reached him. Much like a fuse running up to a bomb, he no longer cared about these men and their fighting. He should not have been attacked in the first place, it was not his fault for his actions now he told himself. His eyes burst like a solar flare their color switched over from blue to a black with crimson flecks. They widened from their usual lazy half slitted appearance to a now wide eyed look. It was crazy along with the full teethed smile that now shown on his face. Letting loose a maniacal laugh he quickly rushed forward with his blade pointed downward before flicking it upward and throwing part of the sea towards the man who was now holding his elbow and trying to brace it. It was like a lion eyeing up his prey who was this time a mouse. There was nowhere for this mouse to run however no holes for it to crawl in and the lion knew exactly where it was, it would crush it now and here. Saracen's patience had run dry and the pirate had snapped his mental state was now something else, it was not his and the eyes like some bloody sky seemed to devour everything they saw. Like a lion with two snakes for eyes in fact would be a better analogy for this demon who now used the man's body. The wave crashed into the man and hurled him over his companion's body. With a flash that body was now a corpse as Saracen did a downward stab severing the man's spine in a crimson flush springing from the earthy body below. There was no cry of pain for the man had already been killed as obvious from the dent in his forehead where the skull caved in from the earlier attack. Saracen would have pitied this but the demon which held his body cared not, as he brought the blade up and flung the corpse at the man who had been flung by the wave. They both went flying until they hit a tree with a snap. Turning with the speed of a bolt of lighting arcing across the sky Saracen gave a laugh as the old man with the long pole arm struggled to get up. Before he could however in one slash the pirate buried his blade in both legs of the man. Mid thigh down into the bones and with a hard wrench he tore the handle loose from the blade which stuck in the legs and forced the man to flip over himself many times before landing back with a dull thud. The once pristine beach was now filled with the dark red blood from the men who had tested the pirate's strength. Whether or not they intended to kill him was irrelevant, and the demon waited a while before leaving the body of Saracen as he waded back out in the water to get more smokes from his ship.

The swim wasn't too long, and now Saracen began to ponder the iron smell which had interrupted him earlier. It was odd nothing like that had happened to him before a scent and taste of iron so strong, perhaps it was simply a premonition of the slaughter to come. A warning of the demon to come? In any case it was gone now and Saracen had only to get back to his digging. Soon he would have this devil fruit and he would not care at all about this island which so far had upset him greatly. Pondering for a bit, Saracen discussed with himself about destroying the whole place. While it would stamp out the source of his anger there were far too many innocents here, and too many downfalls as well for him to ever put such a plan into action. Perhaps he would just finish this up as quickly as he could and get out of this cursed island. Yes he decided that would be for the best as he finally climbed his ship. Luckily there was a spare pack in the faux-boat. It was under the brim of the side of the boat and he quickly grabbed that and the lighter he had left behind before giving out a laugh. He had decided to bury the bodies where he found the fruit. It was a twisted bit of dark humor but it was good enough for the pirate captain who quickly lit the cigarette and went back towards the dreaded island.

The shovel was in a pool of blood soaked sand and Saracen quickly picked it up before deciding that would be the first place he would dig. He supposed the men would have told him where the fruit was located but one could never unpick an apple from the tree. Once the cherry red thing had fallen there was no way to reverse it and killing was much like that. The analogy made Saracen laugh again as he continued to dig sending shovelful of now brown dirt flying over his right shoulder. Before long if one looked all they would see is a white column of smoke rise from the hole along with the occasional rain of dirt that seemed to fling itself up almost rhythmically to get away from the man.

Digging, digging, digging that was all the man seemed to be doing for the past two hours, the whole was now so wide he was certain he could have fit a house inside of it. Yet he only felt a bit hungry, the pack of cigarettes he had brought from the ship had long run out but he was determined to find this damn fruit. Who the fuck even knew if there was one here this was all a wild fruit chase a crap shoot, he would have invested his time for nothing. Oh well the bounty from the men he killed would surely earn him a small reputation. Perhaps afterwards he would rob from the corrupt marines, maybe if he was lucky he would be sent against by a couple of their cruisers. That would be the day when the already stretch thin marines would come after the man beneath the sea. Like they would even find him, for now nobody knew who he was. Although he had left his name in blood on the sands, all someone would have to do is cross reference with Alabasta and they would get a picture of him from seven years ago. Of course right behind the name was four of the masters of the island, at least that is what Saracen guessed they were. Regardless of rank each of their heads were propped on their own weapons and their bodies were crumpled lying against the weapons that jutted like crosses in the sky marking the place where they would first rest. If they could, having died such cheap deaths. It could have been avoided had they just let the man do his thing and be on his way but they had to fight him. It was their decision not his, although it is true that the thing that set him off the most had stemmed from a plan of his. Oh well that did not matter what mattered now was the digging of this hole and from deep below Saracen could no longer see the sun. It had passed over the sandy walls of his pit which was now cast into shadow, it had cooled things down but he supposed that it did darken his hunt a bit and if this went on for much longer he would need to get lanterns.

It was curious that nobody showed up so far to see what was happening beyond the palms that blocked this rare part of the island, but Saracen cast this oddity off as reliance on the men who had fell before him. How sad that there was no double checking system, he could have gotten a better bounty. He supposed it was alright however as he did not want to harm any more families with his senseless destruction and slaughter of people. Four was enough it would show that he was not one to be messed with. Oh well bibs and bobs and shiscobobs this is really getting boring just detailing out this shit like this I mean really I'm probably not even going to get the fruit, my that would be sad would it not. Oh well I guess I could try it again eh? Well regardless back to the boring story that nobody will read because it does not pertain to anything except my own character's backstory. Which really who wants to read that, shits boring yo. Anywhom, I don't know how else to put it I am the bad guy kyrptonite the green chronic, demonic yupp yupp don't worry I'm on it. I got it, high fived nick lache, stuck a pin in jessica's head and walked away. And while she floats around the rooma like a balloona I'll grab the last can of chicken tuna out the trash can and zooma. Saracen sighed with a smile as he set back to work shoveling the crypt as he had called it to himself for the past couple hours.

Of course soon he found the thing that he was looking for, but that was not for another hour. Another boring hour that passed uneventfully as he expanded the whole in the ground that would be his undoing he thought to himself. All this greed for one thing was unhealthy but it was a disease he shared with much of the world and if that was the case he guessed it must have been okay although it was a sin he guessed he could pardon himself from it for now. Sighing he got back to work when he found it and a feeling of relief and euphoria washed over him like a wave rolling in from the sea. An actually wave from the sea as high tide had came and was now slowly invading his domain. With a shriek Saracen quickly jumped out of his pit as it soon became an inlit a part of the sea instead of the island. Saracen wondered to himself if that was considered partial destruction of an island with a laugh. Baby steps was the name of the game and with this baby step perhaps he could get some of that fabled power he had heard so much about. The devil fruit held within some special power, he had no way of knowing what this one had inside but that was the gamble with the fruit. It could be a zoan, parmecium, or even a rare logia hah like he could be lucky enough for a logia and if he did it would probably turn his body into some form of flower. That was another gamble, some powers of the fabled fruit were useless and would actually hinder him. However Saracen had put too much work in it to back out now.

Open the mouth and shove her down, try your best not to frown. It was an old rhyme stated by his elders when he was younger but Saracen found it true now as he shoveled the awful tasting fruit into his mouth. In a flash his life replayed before him and he watched the events unfold, he cherished this moment for the rest of his life as it was another chance to see his family albeit in a memory but he cared not as the tears welled up. All of this happened in mere seconds but to describe it will take far longer...


The young boy sat on a dune with a rusty sword over his left shoulder and a smile upon his face. The sun was setting and he knew that soon it would be time for dinner with his family, his brother probably went all out again like every sunday. With a laugh he turned around and thats when he bumped into someone from town. It was a kid his brother's age, at this time Saracen was naught but twelve and his brother was sixteen and as such the size difference between the two was apparent. To make matters worse this was a bully, and the boy sneered at him before pushing Saracen to the ground.

"So lady-man's brother is going to become a guard huh? Yeah right, and camels will fly too" the boy had an upturned noise that affected his voice and made it nasily like most bully's Saracen guessed he picked on people to hide his own insecurities. That was irrelevant however he had upset Saracen, by calling his brother the person Saracen so looked up to a lady man. He wasn't sure at first whether it was a compliment or an insult, but from the look on the kid's face that is was meant to be an insult. That sealed the deal.

Picking himself up, and dropping the sword he brought his fists up to cover his face and spat at the other boy before screaming out in a small voice "My brother is more of a man than you'll ever be" and at the end of his sentence he punctuated his claim with a quick right hook to the jaw and a left knee to the groin. The bigger boy had not expected the boy to attack and as such he did not raise his defenses in time and felt the sharp sting that jerked his head to the right before crumpling to the ground from the second blow. The next move was only brought down due to the insult thrown to Saracen's family and he brought the right heel of his shoe down on the other boy's genitalia causing him to cough off blood before he picked up his sword and left back towards home the other boy's wailing following on his trip back.

The memory brought a smile before the second one raised another smile to the lips of the now hardened warrior. It was a sort of continuation of the first he saw his family around the table and they were all laughing, but then suddenly they all turned into corpses. The same way that Saracen had left them on that fateful night when he scorned Alabasta forever. The place was no longer his homeland in his eyes, any place that could allow such an act to happen would not be acceptable to be called the homeland of anyone. For that reason the royal family would be taught a lesson soon enough, once Saracen got back to the grand line he would make sure that they payed for what happened to him.

He cared not for a single patriot of that particular country in his bent view he judged them all as guilty , while his point was to torture the royal family he did not care if he had to raize the entire country to do so he would stop at nothing let nobody get in the way of his revenge. However that was later, and this was now.

Saracen looked down at the peel of the fruit he had consumed and glowed with excitement hopefully the transformations would come soon and give him a useful power for his goal. In any case he hoped only that the fruit would help him defend his crew, the friends that chose to sail the seas with him. If that could happen then he would be happy. Yes that would be perfect for him he decided some sort of defensive fruit that would save him friends in their time of need, after all life without friends is not life at all.