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One Piece: On Stranger Tides [Interest Check]

In addition to the above questions, would we have access to canon devil fruits (for example the gomu gomu no mi)? Are all players part of the same crew, or would we have separate adventures, being as you described this as semi-sandbox? In the case of being separate, does that mean we'd make multiple characters to fill out our ships? More details in general, please.

One Piece: New Horizons!

Dirk could practically hear Smith nodding in approval over the helmsman's chosen course of action. Having an ally to fight back against "Bullet" Bill would be beneficial, and in his current state of injury should Pike betray them he would be easily disposed. The ninja pat Dirk on the shoulder twice.

"Ideally, as soon as possible, if I understand your question... Damn you talk weird." The marine lit up another cigar, now chomping down on two at a time. "But I have to get the message to my crew that're still loyal to me. Once they know we're ready to make the move, we can coordinate the attack together. That's what I can use you for, since you're so sneaky and got around the men at port."

Pike reached over to one of the nearby pieces of paper that had been tossed about the room as a side effect of his being blasted through the wall, and took a pen to the backside. From the look on his face, he was concentrating fiercely, putting in all his effort into the work. "I'm making a very detailed, highly intricate coded image that only my most loyal men will understand. Make sure that as many of the soldiers see this as possible, and they'll get the message. Ah, done." He handed the paper out to Dirk, who upon seeing it, realized it was a stick figure drawing of a cannon with a big X crossing it out. And not a very good stick drawing either. Like, wow. Man. Don't quit your dayjob. Sheesh.

"I'm going to go see if I can get reinforcements from nearby patrols, or another base. You'll know the signal when I jump out and attack that shitty turncoat weapon." Pike took great effort to move himself toward the door at this point, giving pause just before making his exit. "Oh, and one more thing. Betray me? And I'll see your entire crew at the gallows as the crowd cheers for their deaths. See you soon, pirate scum." With that, he left, walking off to the tower that housed the den den mushis. Joke's on him, since Dirk and Smith had already wrecked that room!

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Wards: How Do You Like Your Coffee?

@Old Amsterdam@Gardevoiran@Lugubrious@yoshua171@BCTheEntity

The alert came in early in the morning, a few minutes before 6 am. Each of the Wards, the four established members and their newest fifth recruit, received a written message on their Protectorate communicators. Whether or not they were ready for the day was irrelevant, as it beeped and beeped with an alert to force their attention. Once retrieved, the communicator relayed a hologram of a written message, which felt unusual. Decoy normally provided audio messages accompanied by a hologram of his body, meaning something was definitely off.
Warning: Do not speak any of the following out loud. Emergency mission for the Wards, approved by Decoy. Details to follow. Meet at the Little Owl Cafe ASAP in civilian clothing. Tiger Lily will provide crucial details on what could be the most important mission of your whole careers.

And that was it. Most critical mission ever? Sounded important. With a public meeting off the books, civilian clothes, and the rest of the cloak and dagger stuff, this certainly came across as serious, if not also somewhat sketchy. What exactly was going on?

---

The Little Owl Cafe certainly lived up to its name. While there were a high number of online reviews praising the place, it was certainly… Cozy, one could say. A fairly small hole in the wall location which would endear it to the locals, or tourists wanting to get that “local experience,” the interior decor was nothing too impressive, yet held a charm all its own. A small drink serving station along with cash register stood perpendicular to the back wall along the left hand side when you came in the entrance. Immediately to the right stood a corner V-shaped bar for sitting and drinking, while a single long table sat in the middle of the room, a bookshelf along the right side wall. The back wall was largely left unused, but decorated in a white/gray marble pattern. Altogether a small, quaint little coffee shop.

---

---

The Jacks: First Class Ticket to Fame

@yoshua171@BCTheEntity@Eklispe@Old Amsterdam@Crusader Lord

Denver International Airport. DIA for short. Being a central hub for air travel in the United States allowed it to grow and prosper until it became the largest airport in the entire country, including the longest plane runway. With nonstop service to more than 205 international locations 24/7, nobody could doubt how vital and important a role it has to the United States infrastructure. Near the entrance stands the iconic Blue Mustang statue, or “Blucifer,” as the locals call it. The evil horse which killed its creator before being placed, having fallen on him. A portent of things to come, perhaps. Then again, that is exactly why the Jacks were tasked with maintaining a presence at this most important travel hub.

With reports of a possible class A villain attack, the Broker assigned the team with protecting the airport at all costs. It was not difficult to understand why he would want such a goal accomplished. If he were half the businessman he appeared to be, he would have been highly reliant on the airport’s success. As long as it remained standing, he continued business. As long as he continued business, the Jacks would still be funded. It was a decision based in logic and self-preservation, albeit one which would have drastic positive consequences for the citizenship at large.

What was not so easy to understand was how the Broker knew, fifteen days in advance, that a class A threat would be attacking the airport. He did not appear to have any thinker powers himself, or at least any thinker powers that would help divine the future. It made no sense to risk endangering his own profit margins and stop said risk with his own people. Then again, it was apparent he had many employees outside of the Jacks themselves. Could one of them be a thinker capable of determining the future? Such a power was indeed a tremendous asset, ones the Jacks could make use of themselves. Alas, better to focus on the task at hand.

7:14 a.m. and all was quiet. Well, as quiet as you could be in a constantly jam-packed airport, but still, no signs on the outskirts of any trouble. Not yet, anyway. And the outskirts was indeed where the team of villains currently was, as getting closer could prove to be… Troublesome. Sans Alloy, all were on the city’s most wanted list, something the airport would no doubt have been 100% informed of. Naturally they could leave their costumes behind, but that presented its own problem if and when the threat reared up and they had to take it down. Not to mention Raymond relied on weapons that he had little hope of sneaking past security. What to do indeed?

Reign: Kingdom Come

Marque de Bourdeaux

---

Suddenly Marque's eyes awoke to a light faded in the distance. Under normal circumstances such a light wouldn't have been too bothersome, but in the infinite void of nothingness for what could only be described as weeks, the sudden shift felt jarring, and blinding, if only for but a moment. The young man rose to up, first to his knees, then to his feet, feeling aches in every joint. That is when he spotted the two figures that should have caught his attention first and foremost. A cloaked man, shrouded in mystery, and an enormous hound, cloaked in nothing yet by its very existence far more mysterious than the man could ever have hoped to be. It's massive frame dominated most of his field of vision as it took an instant liking to the woodsman, Lorenzo. A more fortuitous boon, indeed. Then the man demanded Marque's attention by way of grabbing his shoulders. Before the young man could protest at this violation of space, the older man's voice brought instant relief... And tears.

"... Gardevoir?" Marque barely choked out, only audible enough for the two of them. The man before him had gone through a metamorphosis of sorts. He was more rugged, more primal, than the clean cut and sophisticated city man Marque knew. Yet this was the same man, of that there could be no doubts.

"Friends?" Marque asked back, confused at first but quickly regaining his senses. The trip through the blackness had temporarily robbed him of reason and memory. "Oh, yes! In a manner of speaking. Traveling companions recruited at the edge of the Glimmer Woods. A temporary arrangement at the time, yet destiny feels differently, it would seem. I have grown fond of them in the short travels shared."

Then Gardevoir addressed the others, referring to the large canine, the animals they had had with them previously (indeed, the horse and dog were missing! Marque nearly forgot!), and assuring them all that time was of the essence. Marque had no idea what the cause for concern could be, but he trusted his mentor fully and completely. Mothers usually had a facetious tone when asking the age old question, "If they told you to jump off a cliff, would you?" However that exact situation had become far more literally relevant than Marque ever believed it would be... And he did in fact trust Gardevoir enough to do so, that much was already proven in action.

"I should follow you to the ends of the earth if request, master. However, my traveling compatriots might not be so inclined, and I find myself curiouser and curiouser. Could you please find the breath to enlighten us as we proceed?"

Gear

• cases of makeup
• Couple masks
• Two sets of clothes
• A wig
• Bag of coins
• "Proof" of affiliation to House Bryce
• Backpack
• 1 days trail rations
• Outdoor blanket
• Flask of water

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Verum Autem Ex

Leonard pulled up to a parking space specifically reserved for motorcycles and slowed to a stop. Without removing his helmet, he spotted Blue on a park bench nearby with a rather pathetic looking middle-aged man. No signs of a struggle, nobody in any danger, and the atmosphere didn't come off as the least bit serious, so Leonard concluded that this man was not, at least in this moment, a threat. Perhaps he had no malice at all. Either way, he needed to further assess the situation and walked forward.

Once he stood a few feet in front of the duo, Leonard lifted the visor on his helmet so that only his eyes would show. "Salutations, esteemed partner. I see you have made a new acquaintance." He held out his leather-gloved hand to the older man. "Leonard Skinner, at your service." Just in case, he didn't want this man to see his face, plus the helmet served as an intimidation tool. There was always the possibility this man was playing Blue, wasn't actually as passive as he seemed to be in this moment. Until Leonard had a stronger grasp of the situation at hand, he wanted to be ready.

Reign: Kingdom Come

Marque de Bourdeaux

---

Trust me. These words resonated with Marque, echoing within the chambers of his mind again and again. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me. And trust he did. Marque bore witness to the stone shine with brilliant power, then manifest that power. A path was born, guided by walls of flame, so that his companions could yet escape. Relief swept over the young man as they approached behind the safety of flame. Yet the terrors has not yet ended.

Before the actor could speak to his traveling companions, something new surprised them all, and darkness swallowed everything. His face stung with the sensation of moving air, as Marque and the others plummeted within the void. Instinct very nearly took hold, but he fought off the desire to scream, in order to calmly accept this fate.

Trust me.

I do.

One Piece: New Horizons!

”Cereal Killer” K. Runch Vs. "Crimson Blade" Howie Tzar: Who is the Iron Stomached Chef!

Howie Tzar nodded, a wide grin slicing across his face like a jagged edge, entertained by his first challenger. ”Hyufoofoofoof! I should be honored to have a fellow chef as my first opponent, I believe. I hear your cereal is as tasty as it is nutritious!”

Runch stood before the man now, one hand resting on the hilt of his spoonsaber. The two met eye to eye, nearly the exact same height. ”The honor is mine, omnomnomnom! But yes, I am your first, and last, opponent!”

Tzar licked his lips. ”Cheeky. We’ll see how long you last with the worst dishes I can possibly prepare!” Dramatically Tzar unfurled his arms, causing his tattered white marine coat to spread apart every which direction, billowing in the wind. This revealed his well sculpted, maintained physique, two long blades attached to his arms, and most peculiar of all, two small white feathered wings on his back, practically vestigial and completely useless.

This action also revealed that his assistant cooks had setup two long tables for each of them to work on, alongside a very large pile of various foods between the tables for ease of access. A fully fledged cooking station sat in the middle of the two tables, with large barrels of water at the ends, fully stocked cutlery, and all manner of other assorted tools.

”Omnomnom! I should warn you, if you plan to make me lose my lunch or gross me out, you won’t get very far! Nothing you could cook will harm my stomach.” The pirate captain pat his belly with gusto. Those looking on could easily see his behavior as boastful, but to those who knew the captain it was something much more. They knew he was actually behaving far more humble than he had any right to.

Tzar squinted with one eye. ”We shall see about tha-OWOWOWOW GET OFF OF ME DAMMIT FRANKIE LET GO OF MY EAR AAAAAAGH!”

As the enemy chef dealt with his crazy bird, the two referees took their positions. A number of assistant cooks stood off to the side, ready to cart in more and more food and spices as it became necessary.

“Aaaaaaand…. Start cooking!” The whistle blew, signalling both to start up. Runch began by grabbing an armful of various fruits, dumping them down onto a cutting board. Tzar whistled and pointed a command, and in response his pet bird swooped in to grab him a large ham.

Runch had been startled by the falcon swooping in nearby, but otherwise kept calm enough to peel the skins from some oranges with great speed and precision. He wondered what the opponent planned to do with that ham? He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Tzar dashed some pepper and some honey glaze over the ham, then more pepper and more pepper and more pepper then a touch of chilli powder to top it off. The fumes coming from the hunk of meat were already causing the chef’s nose to drip! ”Now witness my style! Ballet Cooking, Red Hot Allegro!” Suddenly the two blades attached to Tzar’s arms heated up to red hot intensity. The very air around them wobbled in a haze! The man dipped down, then back up, swinging his leg around, then swiped furiously with his arm blades, slicing the ham into dozens of pieces, each one searing into a perfectly cooked masterpiece as the blade made contact.

”And Sauté!” The man jumped forward, right leg extended up high, left leg bent as far back as it could go. In this motion, he kicked the platter of seared ham straight at Runch’s face, splattering the captain, knocking him over, and sending his fruit high up into the air. It seemed as though the precious fruit would soon hit the ground and bruise, or splatter…

Through some miraculous blind coordination, the spoonsaber shot up from the ground and, guided by its owner’s hand, zigged and zagged through to air to catch every piece of airborne fruit. Runch himself still remained on the ground, face covered in blazing hot ham, but he quickly jumped up to his feet, deposited the fruit into a mixed bowl, and chopped it all into tiny pieces. All this while still blind.

A second later, the ham sucked inward, twisting in on itself as though being forced through a tiny hole into the vacuum of space. It then vanished into Runch’s mouth, where it was chewed up and swallowed without a problem. ”Spicy? Please. Dry maybe, but nowhere near too spicy for me! Omnomnomnomnom! Now try this! Rainbow Fruit Salad!” Using his spoonsaber, Runch flung the bowl of fruit salad back at his opponent, who caught the bowl and began to devour the meal in earnest.

”Delicious. A very good fruit salad. How did you poison it?” he asked, wary of the pirate, and tossing the bowl back, which Runch caught.

”I didn’t! Omnomnom!” replied the captain, depositing the bowl into the sink section of his cooking station. This didn’t sit well with Tzar.

”If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t. It makes little difference, as I will still win!” He pointed and whistled again, causing Frankie to swoop once more into the pile of ingredients, this time retrieving several sausages.

Meanwhile, Runch grabbed himself a bag of flour, some milk, cocoa beans, and other assorted ingredients. Swiftly he mixed it all together and, with a dash of his bori bori powers, created colorful sprinkle top, and threw it all into his oven to bake. This should take a few minutes, but once it comes out, it’ll knock out his taste buds, I just know it!

Nearby, Tzar was marinating his sausages in a bizarre mixture of green chilli, caster oil, wasabi, and… was he straining them using used socks?! ”Looks like you’ll be eating plenty of my dishes while you’re waiting for that to bake! Hyufoofoofoof!” He flipped the sausages out of the socks, up into the air.

”You’ll be getting plenty of good eating while my masterpiece bakes, I assure you! Omnomnom!” Runch was already moving toward the food pile to grab his next set of ingredients to prepare.

”Heh. Ballet style, Red Hot Alegro! And Ballon!” With strange grace, Tzar jumped upward into the air, almost flying like a bird. Several feet high, he became level with the sausages, and sliced them neatly with his red hot blades. The pieces landed onto the flat of his weapons, further searing the meat, which he flung down at Runch before landing with tact, toes touching the ground first. ”Sauté!”

This time the captain was ready, and did not get beaned in the face. Rather, he caught the various slices of sausages using his hands and mouth, near instantly swallowing them before shoving the rest into his gullet. The man didn’t pause or flinch. ”The flavors were unbalanced, Howie-san! Next time I’d suggest less wasabi, and a tortilla for the chili! Omnomnomnom!”

Half the crowd was in shock. That man had just down wasabi covered sock-sausage like it was nothing! The very few of them who could actually stomach their chef’s deadly cooking couldn’t do so without some measure of illness, yet this man made it look easy! It was clear Tzar found this irritating. ”We’ll see how my next dish fares,” he snarled, the underlying threat evident.

”Yes, we will!” Runch agreed, oozing sincerity.

Both men began working on their next culinary creation. Runch applied some brown sugar and lightly squeezed lemon juice to a thoroughly mixed bowl of oatmeal, topped with a small dollop of whipped cream, and a red cereal pellet. It was finished just as Tzar began his flowing dance combat cooking style, a steak slathered in enough butter to give a man a heart attack on the spot garnished with bird feces, and seasoned with rat poison.

”Ballet style, Burning Blue Adagio.” His movements, while still flowing and smooth, slowed down tremendously as his arm blades changed from a glowing red hot to a glowing blue hot. Less than half a second was all that was needed to sear the steak to cooked perfection… Or as perfect as it could get, considering what it has been made from. ”Sauté!”

Once again the man jumped, and once again this led to his “meal” getting kicked straight for his opponent. Runch caught the steak at the same time he tossed his own creation back at Tzar, the two foods crossing paths midair. Tzar downed his oatmeal in a single gulp, fearing whatever Runch had done to sabotage the taste… Only to realize it had tasted fantastic! But the enemy had to have done something, hadn’t he?

Runch however, he was chewing up the steak as though savoring the taste. Many a jaws dropped in the bleachers. How?! was the general sentiment.

“How?!” A random Buccaneer asked aloud, utterly shocked.

”Your chef made a tactical error against my cap’n,” spoke the nearby navigator, Hachirou. His eyes never left the display happening before them, his face remained serious and staunch, yet clearly anybody could see he exemplified confidence. ”If he changed strategy and tries to over feed the cap’n then he might have a chance, but as he is now? Creating dangerous and disgusting foods? There is no food known on this earth the cap’n cannot stomach, and if something new is discovered, he’ll learn to eat that too!”

The pirate, confused, asked, “I don’t get it. How?”

”The cap’n is no fool in the kitchen, or on the battlefield, and this setting? It’s both. He knows everyone and everything have different tastes, so he makes every possible recipe he can, and he tries them all. A naturally adventurous man. It’s why I follow him.” Hachirou crossed his arms.

“But our chef just poisoned him! You can’t seriously tell me your captain is used to eating poison!”

Hachirou nodded. ”I can.”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!”

Hachirou sighed, clearly bothered by the amount of talking he was now doing. Wasn’t this sort of thing usually Smith’s job? ”You’ve heard of his bori bori powers, right? Heard of the explosive cereal he’s made, the poisonous cereal, the sticky glue cereal? He can’t make new types up on the fly. The cap’n can only make cereals that he himself has already eaten.”

“Wait, are you telling me that this man’s stomach has survived explosive food?! HE CAN'T BE HUMAN!” Hachirou was done speaking to this annoying fly. Rather than address any further questions, he simply knocked the man out with a surprise slap to the back of the head. Problem solved. Now he could get back to focusing on the eating contest…

Down below, Runch and Tzar had made three more dishes apiece. Each of Tzar’s was more disgusting or deadly than the last, but the Cereal Killer happily ate it all up with nary a complaint. Meanwhile, each of Runch’s has been more fulfilling, more tasty. Tzar dared not to savor it, lest some hidden trap be sprung upon his taste buds, but couldn’t deny how amazing it all was. Dammit, what was that pirate doing to these foods, and how could he cover up the taste so well while still being so fantastic?!

”Take this! My most powerful technique! Adagio-“ His movements, slow and precise, setup an array of ingredients unrecognizable by the human eye, one of which might have actually been a human eye. ”-into Alegro!” Quickly he picked up the pace, hacking and slashing with his burning hot blades, transforming the unrecognizable pile of ingredients into… An unrecognizable pile of what could loosely be called food.

”Brisé Volé Maximum! And Sauté!” Once again the “food” found its way into Runch’s mouth, where once again it was thoroughly enjoyed, and critiques on potential improvements. Tzar’s jaw practically hit the dirt, just in time for a small ding to signal that Runch’s big creation, what he had set in the oven at the start of this whole contest, had finished baking.

”Ah, that’s it! Omnomnom!” No sooner had the captain taken out the baking pan did an intoxicating aroma sweep across the field, tickling the noses of everyone. Whatever he had made, it smelled of perfection.

”Here you are, Howie-san, the dish that will end this contest. Myriad Crisp Cereal Bars!” With that, Runch began slicing the baked good into several smaller squares, then stood back as his opponent came to eat the obligatory meal.

Red flags went off in the chef’s head. If Runch had been able to effortlessly stomach the abominations he made, what was in this crisp cereal bar that gave the man such confidence? Slowly Tzar sniffed, desperate for any trace of poison or foul play. He found none.

“A friendly reminder to lieutenant Howie that he cannot go ten seconds without eating or cooking,” a referee called out.

“Six. Seven. Eight.” The other counted.

With no time to waste, Tzar dove right in. My god. This taste. It was… it was… Divine. An orgasm to the mouth! Unable to help himself, Tzar presses his face right into the baking pan, eating more and more as Runch stood aside, laughing as he snacked.

”Omnomnomnom! Glad you enjoyed it! Because now I win!”

Tzar snapped back up. That’s right, his enemy declared victory over this food. He was certain of it. The chef rounded back on the man and gestures rudely. ”What’d you do to this food?” he demanded. ”What’d you put in it? Poison? Gunpowder? Shrapnel?”

Runch couldn’t help himself. Already a naturally jolly man, he belted out a heavy laugh. ”OMNOMNOMNOM! I could never do something like that! My food is my gift! To willingly give someone something I made with my own hands for them to eat, with a nefarious purpose? Why, is have to toss my baking gloves overboard! I could never dishonor my kitchen like that! Not when I see how happy my food has made you! Omnomnomnom!”

Confused, Tzar reeled back, then fell to the floor on his butt. He couldn’t move, he was so shocked! ”Seriously?! Then, you didn’t sabotage ANY of those dishes?! But then how are you so confident that this crispy cereal bar has beaten me?”

As he spoke, Tzar tried to stand, only to find that he lost his balance and tumbled down again. Puzzled, he made another attempt, with even less success. Now thoroughly angry, he tried one last time, but only wound up rolling over. And over. And over. Wait, when did he become a big ball?!

Tzar had inflated into a large ball shape, unable to move! Grunting in frustration, he only saw the green grass in his face as his comparatively tiny limbs flailed helplessly. But he could hear everything. ”Omnomnom! I swore none of my foods could hurt you, but I still came to win! All of my foods were made with one goal in mind. Once they all combined in your stomach, the mixture would force the crispy cereal bars to expand inside you! Omnomnom!”

“Eight! Nine! Ten! Howie Tzar is unable to continue! The winner is Bartholomew K. Runch!”

"OWOWOWOWOW FRANKIE YOU STUPID BIRD, GET OFF ME!" Tzar flailed his arms as best he could, but to no avail. He could not stop the falcon from biting at his ear.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Got the media updates for the third timeskip up on the IC 0th post, everyone! Be sure you all give it a read through, and I'll be getting the next "chapter" of the game started soon, probably later this week. This'll be a big one, guys!

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Interlude 3: Master Baiter

”FUCK me!” The loud screech was punctuated by a small fist clasping a knife slamming down hard onto a table. The woman, or young teenager rather, seethed in fury. The figure on her computer monitor had really pissed her off, while the two flunky douchebags over by the door flinched. They anticipated she would take her anger out on them, even though they were ostensibly her bodyguards. Not that this particular young teen girl needed bodyguards.

”No tantrums, Samantha,” ordered the figure on the monitor, harsh as a nail scraping a chalkboard. ”You will do this for me, while we work on finding the cretins who killed your sister.”

Samantha rolled her eyes and slumped back against her chair. ”Yes, father,” she replied, rather unconvincingly. ”But I can find them, and force them to suffer!” Again, her fist slammed into the table, this time so hard her grip on the knife drew blood.

”And suffer they shall, but not by your hand. This requires my personal attention.” If one could see Patriarch’s eyes beneath his mask, they would be narrowed in vitriol and anger. His words barely held any form of composure, like a rumbling volcano ready to erupt.

”Personal? Don’t tell me you’re going to adopt them into the family, are you, father?” She spat out her words, as disgusted as she would have been eating ants on a stick.

Patriarch shook his head. ”No, my daughter. They don’t deserve such a blessing. Lethal Force needs to be made an example. A very public example. You’ll use your power to discover their identities, and pass it along to your sister Sonika. She and Xolotl will make certain they are brought to face my wrath personally. I have the perfect staging ground set.”

Samantha grumbled, grit her teeth, and bit her lips all at once. ”Fine. I’ll ask my power as many questions as it takes before I find out who they are so Sonika can find them. But if I don’t think they’ve suffered enough, I’ll take it out on the city, father! I already had my fun with these fucktards ruined.”

She seemed to only just notice that she had drawn blood, which had dripped in a few small puddles atop her table. Anger was a hell of a pain desensitizer. The Patriarch gave no mind as her eyes darted to the side, acknowledging her self-inflicted wound. ”So long as you do not harm any family members, I don’t really give a shit. Now, back onto the matter at hand…”

Samantha groaned, in part to relieve the stinging pain in her hand, but mostly out of sheer irritation. ”Do I have to take over Fran’s job? All those logistics make my mind spin. I hate it. Can’t Eyeblight or Sonika do it?” To emphasize her point, she rolled her head around, staring up at the ceiling.

”Yes, you do. Your power grants you access to great amounts of information, as long as you word your questions properly. Sonika may have experience managing businesses like ours, but I need her focus on finding the shitstains that think they can challenge my family. Eyeblight is completely unqualified in both skillset and powers. Do not question me again, or you will be grounded.”

At Patriarch’s threat, Samantha immediately quit spinning her head, and sat up straight. Grounded? No, no, had to avoid that. Anything but that. ”Yes, sir,” came her immediate reply, confident and respectful, laced with a twinge of fear.

”Good girl.” The Community leader grinned beneath his mask, enjoying the power dynamic. He licked his lips a bit, some small part of him hoping she would continue to be defiant. How he loved these punishments. ”Now get to work, or father won’t send you any more toys to play with.”

Samantha nodded with another ”Yes, sir,” and the video feed cut to black. She waited a few seconds, making sure he wasn’t going to call back, then let out a deep sigh of relief. As she slumped back in her chair, that relief ignited more agitation. That agitation grew into the embers of anger, which spread into fury. In less than ten seconds she was back to screaming in her room.

”GOD FFFFFFUCKING SHIT WHORE!” A chair soon became acquainted with the nearby wall. Once more the two bodyguards flinched, only this time there wasn’t anything more important to steal away the young teen’s attention. She rounded on the two, approaching with the body language of someone thrice her size.

How do I make these two cry like little babies? she thought silently to herself. With practically no delay, instructions relayed into her mind. Step one.

”You enjoy seeing me get my comeuppance? Think I deserve to get knocked down a peg by father?” she shot at them, jabbing a finger into one’s gut. ”Maybe you need to be reminded of your own place, hm? You may be my brothers, but I’m the BIG sister here! And you do. What. I. Say!”

They failed to give her any sort of reaction as of yet, like the British royal guard, trained not to give in to impulse and stand firm, unmoving at all times. Of course, she hadn’t yet fulfilled all the steps yet. Step two.

”There’s a reason I’m the favorite, you know. The two of you are little shit stains and you know it. Especially you, Rick!” Suddenly, Samantha zeroed in on the other bodyguard, abandoning the one she had jabbed. ”You’d know about shit stains, wouldn’t you? Most people grow out of that disgusting fuckery after being toddlers! But I guess you’re still a pathetic baby.”

Rick’s stomach turned sour. Nobody was supposed to know about his incontinence. It was a private medical condition he hadn’t shared with anybody, but now here she was flaunting it in his face and there was nothing he could do about it! Step three, final step.

Samantha turned to the side and jabbed her thumb onto an intercom. It was an override button that took over all the speakers in the building, effectively blaring her words to every member of the Community present. ”Hello little siblings. I just wanted to let you all know that Rick makes shit stains on a daily basis, and Jaime likes to eat them straight out of his ass. Thank you.”

She turned to admire her handy work. Rick’s eyes had already begun to turn red. It took but a moment for the tears to well up. In total shock, he soon realized the gravity of what had just happened. Almost delayed, he slumped onto the ground, sobbing. Jaime moved over to comfort Rick, and began to sob in earnest as well, mostly out of empathy. But there was no empathy in the one who had caused this scene.

Samantha Harris gazed upon two fully grown men holding one another on the floor, dripping wet. She had done that, and it was so… Fun. If they hadn’t been her brothers, she would have had even more fun manipulating them into killing each other! Actually, thinking on it… How do I get these two babies at each other’s throats? As before, instructions began to fill her mind. Beautiful and disgusting instructions to turn two loving brothers into hate-fueled murderers. But alas, she couldn’t used it. Not on them… And not on those fucking monkeys, Lethal Force.

In an instant the joy she had worked so hard to achieve melted away, leaving only anger. Yes, anger. Always anger. Fun was fleeting, but this rage… It was eternal, at least in her experience. And that was the only perspective that mattered.

What are the identities of Lethal Force?

Nothing. Of course. This power, while dreadfully entertaining, had clear limits that she forgot about constantly. It was such a pain, having to work around the power instead of being able to get whatever she wanted.

What is the leader of Lethal Force most ashamed of? Ah, fascinating. That would be helpful in finding out who they were.

What is the most effective way to torment the leader of Lethal Force regarding his name? Hm, not too much information there.

What does the leader of Lethal Force consider his worst working relationships in the FBI? Good, good. Sonika had contacts in various levels of government, she could make use of this.

Samantha leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes. She thought of more and more questions to the sounds of two grown men on the floor, right where they belonged.

One Piece: New Horizons!

Launcher carefully grabbed Chaka's unconscious form and, after clearing the foam from her mouth, placed her mask back on. Never before had all the men become so instantly disinterested and disappointed, but this was the situation they found themselves in. The dodgeball queen walked Chaka through the rest of the crew to take their seats back. One perverted crew member attempted to get in closer and swipe the mask back off from Chaka, but was sent flying across the horizon for his troubles. Mag Launcher wouldn't let any of the fools take advantage while Chaka was out cold.

Meanwhile, whispers swept over the Buccaneers in tides. Whispers of how apart from the captain, only one of the officers was left. If the Red Rums or the Krunches listened in, they'd pick up on all the doubts this enemy crew had begun to have in their team. Only two left, while the opposition had so many remaining? It seemed like a hopeless battle now! Ah, but the morale began to improve when someone brought up how most of those who had won were injured and exhausted to the point that continuing would be a guaranteed win for the Buccaneers. Besides, they still have Bullet Bill, and nobody could possibly beat him, right? Yeah!

Speak of the devil, Bill stood up to address everyone. "I think I speak fer er'ebody when I say this's bin a fantastic display a'skill n'sportsmanship. Yer up on us, but I'm confidant we'll pull together in the final quarter, as they say. Tzar, yer up. Make it a goodin' one."

The final of the Buccaneer lieutenants previously introduced stood up, a tattered white marine's chef uniform adorning his torso. A falcon stood firm upon his shoulder, regal and proud. This man, Tzar, stood just as proud and regal as his avian companion as he descended the bleachers. His long braid swayed back and forth with each footstep, keeping time like a metronome. Once at the forefront, he spun round on his heel and, in a deep Russian accent, addressed everyone.

"Thank you, captain. I am Howie Tzar, and I shall be your final obstacle, for nobody can defeat me in my chosen contest. There is nothing more proud than the-OOOOW STOP IT! WHAT THE HELL, FRANKIE?! LET GO!" In the middle of his speech, the falcon on his shoulder, Frankie, had mistaken Tzar's long ear for a grub, and had latched on with its razor sharp beak. The man flailed and stumbled about like a loon, desperately trying to pull his companion off.

Character Box

"Crimson Blade" Howie Tzar

Chef of the Buccaneer Pirates
Not as cool as he thinks he is. Likes birds. They don't like him.

After a few good moments of tugging on Frankie, the bird finally let go once it saw a real grub in the hedge maze, and took off after it. Tzar opted to breathe a few seconds, and bandage his now bleeding head. "Yes, well, as I was saying, none can best me in the eating contest! Rules are simple: My assistant cooks will be constantly wheeling out raw ingredients and foodstuffs. I and my competitor will have to design food on the spot, and immediately feed it to our competitor, so we are constantly designing food for the opponent. If either of us takes a break lasting longer than ten seconds, that person loses. If someone passes out, that someone loses. If we run out of food, the one who ate the least loses. If you throw up, you lose. I plan to out eat every single one of you. Now then, who shall be my first victim?"

Immediately all of the Krunch pirates turned to look at their captain. Runch straightened back his hat, stood up, and casually strolled down the bleachers. "Since my fellow captain already got to show off, it's only fair that I take my turn, right? Besides, an eating contest... Well, that just tickles my mustache pink. And with me, I guarantee nobody will be running out of food anytime soon." To demonstrate, he casually dropped a few pellets of cereal to the ground in front of Tzar. "Shall we begin?"

---

"I can't make that sort of deal. You see, I'm no filthy pirate." The man took a moment to light up a cigar retrieved from his jacket, took a few puffs, then blew out a fancy smoke cloud in the form of a seagull. "The name is Captain Lance Pike, and this is my marine base. Everything and everyone around you here are all marine owned."

He took a moment to take another few puffs of his cigar, probably to dull the pain of his shredded leg. "Everything was dandy, being stationed here right at the entrance to the Grand Line. Right out of the gate about 25% of pirates would have to come here to my base, so it's been a great job taking out rookies before they can cause too much trouble. Everything was dandy up until about a month ago when we got a new shipment of weapons, which included a... Special experimental weapon. That blasted cannon."

Pike slammed his fist into the floor, cracking the rock. His knuckles barely looked bruised. "It introduced itself as 'Bullet' Bill, the 'captain.' It's a god forsaken weapon, and nothing more. A cannon, serial number AR-34, but with special properties. I don't understand how exactly, but the higher ups were able to 'feed' the cannon a devil fruit. The hito hito no mi. As a result, it came to life with a human form, and a will of its own. It was supposed to be my best weapon, heavy artillery that can aim itself, reload itself, prioritize targets and follow orders... But that last bit it took issue with. It decided that the marines don't treat it 'fair.' Like a god damn hunk of iron has any fucking rights. It led a mutiny, took my crew stationed here, and turned them into pirates for fun. So no, I will not follow you out to sea for pirating once you help me. I will stay at my goddamn station, as I was ordered to, and continue to intercept and arrest pirate scum that enters the Grand Line. But I'll let you and your crew go without any more trouble. Won't even report to the higher ups that you were ever here."

Pike had finished his cigar, putting it out by rubbing it against the bit of rock floor he had punched. He then looked back up to Dirk with a terrifying, positively menacing grin, and held out his hand. "Deal?"