[color=cyan][h1]Brenda Wirrit[/h1][/color]


The 'Red Devil' sinks beneath the waves from a barrage of fire, it's treasure and supplies lost. The crew swim for shore, clutching anything that floats for support.

The red-haired captain surfaces with a deep breath of air, carrying the ship's sole devil fruit user under one arm, a small sea-chest in  the other, kicking to shore. The stronger swimmers among the crew, or those who evacuated first, help them to shore, hiding out under a jetty.

Brenda regains consciousness as the sea water pours off of her, still weak and shaky. The captain slides the chest over to her.
"Whatever's in here must be pretty important for a hammer like you to risk taking a swim. It's bad luck for the Captain to leave the ship before any crew though." he says gruffly, without letting Brenda speak. "Looks like this is it for the Red Devil Pirates for now... but you're not really one of us. Only picked you up at the last port. You can lie low in town, slip away on another ship when all this dies down." He shakes his head, and shouts "Besides, we're not used to fighting with you. You'd only hold us back. Go on, get out of here!"

Brends slides back when the captain begins shouting, then turns and runs. She doesn't understand all of his words, but the meaning is clear. As she goes, the captain turns to look at the navy ship and his cutlass. "It's bad luck for the newbie to die before the Captain, anyway."



And so, Brenda finds herself running through the town, soaking wet with only the clothes on her back, the tools on her belt and the deeply precious but ultimately worthless treasures in her little chest. She spends so much time looking behind her for incoming cannonballs, she doesn't look at what's up ahead...