One Piece 1. Chapter 1

One Piece: The Gold Rush Pirates.

Chapter One: Here We Go Again

A common misconception about fishmen was that because they were an aquatic race that they must also enjoy humid weather due to the great volume of moisture in the air.

Those people are mistaken, Frosty suffered every moment he had to hack and stumble his way through that godforsaken jungle. He grumbled and griped and slashed his way through foliage and fauna, both of which tried to eat and delay him every inch of every step he took. Sweat rolled down his back in waves and his breath came in great gasps. He'd been at this for hours, but it looked as if he was finally nearing his destination.

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath against a vine covered tree. He felt something move behind him and turned jut as a fanged plant sprayed acid on his arm. He gave a strangled yelp and hacked the leafy predator apart in a flurry of mulch cursing with every slice. When he was sure it was dead he took a deep breath and sprayed a jet of water on his arm to rinse it off. He was slightly blistered, but his pride was wounded more.

"Flynn, you better be here or I'm going to murder you straight in the face," he growled.

A high-pitched growl sounded from somewhere in front of him, though it rang a little on the squeaky side he'd learned not to underestimate the calls of anything in this horrid place. Not after what he assumed to be the calls of small birds ended up in him being ambushed by a flock of vicious, scaly birds a few hours earlier. He brought his twin great swords to bear in front of him as he broke through the last of the dense foliage with a wild cry. He was sure he cut an intimidating sight wielding the two massive swords as if they weighed no more than rapiers.

The first thing he saw was a lot of felled trees cut in a perfect circle around him to make a wide clearing. The fallen logs were stacked in a makeshift perimeter that, though broken here and there, was still serviceable. In the center of the clearing was a smoldering campfire lazily trailing smoke underneath a kettle, a patchwork and well worn gray tent with a simple sleeping bag inside kept watch in the middle of the clearing, and a small, worn stool made up a spartan campsite.

However all of these were in the back of his mind as he looked on at the spectacle laid out before him.

There was a scaly reptile about the size of a small cow with it's snout buried in the belly of a tall young man with long black hair and a lean build. The fishman vaguely recognized it as a dinosaur, a young rex if he recalled correctly, it had a long body with two stubby arms, a blunt head, and a set of vicious looking jaws. Frosty was about to rush forward, whether to save his friend or stop the beast so he could have something to bury he wasn't quite sure, until the man turned around to reveal he had the overgrown lizard in a headlock with one arm and using his free hand to clamp it's jaws shut. The man wore a rake-hell grin on his face while his prey tried to desperately shake loose and take a chunk off of him.

"Bad lizard!" he yelled at it as it tried to squirm free, "No biting! Ah ah AH! NO BITING!"

Quick as the eye could blink he released his grip on the dinosaur's jaws and brought his fist down solidly on the top of it's head. The young tyrannosaurs' eyes crossed for a moment before he was released to stumble off. The beast received a kick to it's backside in order to hasten it's pace as it disappeared into the jungle.

"Next time bring someone bigger!"

Frosty sheathed his great swords and shook his head.

"You damn near gave me a heart attack Flynn. I thought that thing had you for a minute there."

Flynn rolled his eyes and examined his shredded gray top and grumbled, "No, but the little bastard owes me a shirt."

Frosty took seat on the only piece of furniture and looked over the remains of his friend's dinner and took a cautionary sniff. Flynn's cooking was legendarily infamous. What was left to congeal in that pot looked barely fit for animal consumption, let alone humanoid. He dropped the spoon in disgust.

"Until I thought dinosaurs existed only in books, but I'm guessing you'll have to skin him before he pays you in anything but animal carcasses. Also, speaking of carcasses, what in the hell have you been eating?"

"I get by," he shrugged enigmatically after sitting down next to the seahorse fishman.

Frosty ran a hand through his long ragged hair, shuddering at the thought of surviving out here, let alone on Flynn's cooking, for any length of time.

They two old friend's settled in a comfortable silence for awhile, happy to be reunited after four years. Only the sounds of predators and prey to keep them company. Though these two had little to fear, the sea taught them long ago that they were the former.

The last time Flynn and Frosty were together was at the base of Reverse Mountain on the border between The east Blue Sea and the Grand Line. That hellish sea tempered, but nearly broke the two lone pirates after they had set out on their own with the blessing of their previous captain. Frosty wanting to break out on his own and determined to keep his friend out of trouble decided to throw his lot in with Flynn as well. So they made a pact to strengthen their resolve, keep an eye out for promising recruits, and to meet again one day after their eye opening journey.

That was three years ago. Then one day, Frosty received a map and a letter bearing only two words.

"It's time."

Flynn Tiberoa reached into his pocket and drew out a broken cigarillo. Grumbling again about bastard lizards, he pulled out two more thin cigars before coming across one that was intact. A moment later he drew in a lungful of fragrant smoke, then he was all business.

"How have the last few years treated you?"

"Well," Frosty replied with a roll of his shoulders, "you'd be amazed how well a three year training sabbatical will do you. Then again," he looked around at the felled trees, "maybe you wouldn't."

The nearly crew-less captain laughed, "No, I don't suppose I would. I can promise you I haven't been sitting on my thumbs all this time."

"I don't know, does lizard wrestling count as training or leisure?" he laughed uproariously at his own joke, right up until the stool collapsed under his muscular build.

Flynn rolled laughing at Frosty's turn of luck, "Karma sucks doesn't it blue boy?"

The fishman glared a moment, then joined in laughing with his friend.

"So," the human wiped a tear from his eye, "I can't saw I found any prospects among the locals here. What about you?"

After a moment of silence, Frosty nodded, "I didn't exactly spend all my time training. Spent a lot of time on Cherry Island, a little place in the East Blue. I found a couple of promising kids. Full of dreams of adventure. One's a winged swordsman and the other, believe it or not, is an honest to goodness Kuja warrior."

Flynn let out a low whistle, "That's a strange combination. How'd you manage to come across them?"

Frosty puffed out his chest and thumped it twice with his fist.

"We mighty of the mighty fishman race are far luckier than you unlucky humans," he said proudly.

Flynn punched him in the arm causing the mighty fishman to yelp.

"Mkay, try not lying to me now," he grinned.

Frosty rubbed his sore arm and grumbled out a reply, "Found them both trying to cash in on a bounty out of their league-"

"Hold up. You're telling me their bounty hunters?"

"Wanna be bounty hunters but yeah. Are you going to let me finish or what?"

"...go ahead."

"So I swooped in with my mighty fishman abilities and beat down the bounty and they practically begged me to train them." Flynn flexed his fingers again, "He, hey it's the truth. The boy, Stratus, barely knew how to wield a sword let alone how to cut someone properly. The girl, Iris Dawnbloom, all she had were her skills with sneaking around and the snake bow of hers but little else. So I split my time between training them and focusing on my own skills. Now he's a pretty darn decent swordsman and she's just about the quietest thing in the forest."

"And you?" his captain inquired.

The fishman placed his hands on his swords, "I can cut through stone now as easily as air, but steel is still beyond me for the moment. Yourself?"

The young man tapped his nose, "Now that would be telling."

Flynn and frosty were silent for a long time. The sun began to set on the horizon covering the jungle in twilight. The real predators will be waking up soon. Flynn rose and dusted himself off.

"Well worse comes to worst and we just knock 'em down a peg and move on. There's plenty of fish in the sea. No offense," he said with a grin.

Frosty sighed at the simplicity of his logic and the terrible joke, but before he could call him on it an ear splitting roar cut through the air and rumbled the ground.

A massive reptilian shape broke it's way through the tree line and through the feeble wooden barricade Flynn had set up. The beast towered over them both well above twenty feet, with a pair of shriveled arms, and a broad head filled with dagger like teeth. The beast's leaned down to stare at them both and breathed a rotten breath of air over the campsite making them gag. Behind the massive dinosaur was a smaller one.

The same one that Flynn was wrestling earlier.

"Crap..." Flynn slipped into a fighting stance, "Well I did ask for bigger didn't I?"

A small bead of sweat rolled down Frosty's temple as he drew his swords.

Right before he snorted with laughter.

"Hey Flynn?"

"Don't say it."

"Karma sucks doesn't it?"

:::::Cherry Island, Icarus Forest :::::

The twelve point stag craned it's head down and to munch on a tuft of grass, oblivious to it's impending fate. Iris Dawnbloom sat perfectly still high on a tree branch and blended completely with her surroundings. Her partner was across the field in another tall oak cutting off the deer's escape route, but compared to her he might as well have been waving a brightly colored flag. He was good, but she was better.

She felt a presence slither past her face and a soft hiss in her ear.

"Good timing," she murmured wrapping her hands around the scaly form of her Kuja snake who immediately took the shape of a bow. Tying a string his neck and tail she then notched an arrow and drew it back. The sturdy snake made no sounds of protest, having been trained from birth for warfare and companionship.

The young woman drew in a long, slow breath, and let fly her arrow.

The stag only had time to raise it's head at the sound of the whistling arrow before it struck him and was felled on the spot, pierced straight through his side and right through the heart. The arrow was fired with such force that it tore clean through the animal and straight into the ground.

Iris immediately dropped soundlessly to the ground and walked over.

Stratus dropped down across the way with a muffled thump and the rustle of wings.

"Took you long enough," he said as he worked a kink out of his back, "I damn near fell asleep waiting on you to take a shot. Thought for a minute there I was going to have come down here and stab the thing to death myself."

"Shut up you drunk," she smirked and her snake hissed out laughter.

Stratus glared at the snake, "You shut up before I make a pair of boots with you."

The snake immediately unhinged his jaw and engulfed his hand sinking his teeth into Stratus' wrist.

"Yeeeooowww! You bastard leggo!" he flailed his arm and flapped his great white wings as he whipped around the six foot long snake.

Iris was doubled over with laughter.

Then they heard the growling.

Immediately Stratus drew his longsword and pistol as Greg Jr. assumed the rigidness of a bow just as she warrior notched and drew another arrow.

The silence was deafening as the scanned the trees.

Two massive tawny cougars burst out of the bushes full of sound and fury.

Before the first one even landed an arrow pierced it through the skull just as a trio of bullets pierced the other. They fell dead before they even landed.

Stratus grinned at her, "Oh hell yeah. Extra cash! That's drinking money right there babe!"

She struck him on the back of the head with her snake bow.

"Only after we clean the deer and return it to Ms. Grunder. Or do you really expect that old woman to hike all the way out here and do it herself before hiking back with the extra deer meat?"

"Hey, it could happen. She's a tough old biddy."

Iris rolled her eyes, "Get to work. One each and we'll be out of here in no time."

"Yeah, yeah."

The bounty hunting team worked quickly and cleanly, but it still took them another couple of hours between them to skin and clean the four animals. By the time they were finished the sun was starting to set and the forest was bathed in twilight, but their packs were full of meat and the pelts of the two big cats.

Suddenly he heard quiet snickering behind him and his first reaction was to sigh, "What did you do now?"

He turned and was greeted by the sight of Greg Jr. wearing a gleaming white cougar skull for a helm. The fangs protruded past his jaw and his yellow eyes gleamed at him through the eye sockets. Iris had removed the bottom jaw to make it easier to slip on and off her companion's head. After she stripped away the meat from the skull she set about cleaning and polishing it thoroughly. She tried a few fittings before she got it right and it now set comfortably on the snake's head making him, if possible, look even more fierce.

Stratus let out a cry of fear and stumbled back landing on his backside.

"Why in the hell did you do that for? Like that overgrown suitcase wasn't bad enough before!"

Greg Jr. seemed to preen for a moment in his new attire.

"Because it makes him happy," she deadpanned.

Stratus groaned.

:::::On an Island in the East Blue:::::

Flynn tore off another chunk of roasted dinosaur meat and leaned back with a sigh of contentment. Frosty had, for some reason, insisted on cooking after making him clean the kill. Ah, who was he kidding. He was a bad cook and he knew it.

"Hey! Are you almost done back there?" he hollered at his reluctant worker.

The massive form of the Tyrannosaur lifted it's lumpy and bruised head and growled at him through a fallen log, "Good now get back to work!"

The beast lowered it's head as it placed another log on the makeshift barrier it had broken.

Frosty sat beside him, having cleaned his plate a few minutes ago.

"So what's the plan captain?" he belched.

Flynn set aside his own plate, "Isn't it obvious? We're going to go back to Cherry Island recruit those kids."

He rose and threw the last of the meat to the baby rex who gulped it gratefully. Flynn walked over and scratched its head.

"You ain't so bad are you lil guy? No you're not. No him not."

Frosty slapped his head against his palm and sighed.

"Maybe...I should have stuck with the old crew..."


	2. Chapter 2

One Piece: The Gold Rush Pirates

Chapter Two: The Silver Cyborg

On a blustery, rain washed night a lone marine captain stepped off his rickety schooner and on mercifully dry land. The corner of his tattered white coat snagged on a particularly sturdy splinter and he tore it free with a curse nearly stumbling on his unbalanced legs. He snarled out a viler curse as he made his way from the port of this insignificantly tiny island and to the town proper. He was single minded in his goal, full of righteous fury on his craggy features, and singular determination in his pale blue eyes. He snorted and spit through stained teeth and wiped his crooked nose with the jagged hook that was his left hand, earning himself a small cut.

He cursed again, louder this time.

As he neared the bar he noticed it was surprisingly well taken care of for a remote island this far into the East Blue. The wood was solid and showed no signs of wear or tear. The windows weren't cracked or broken like a lot of the rundown places he'd visited lately. It never failed to surprise him the idiocy of the people who complain about the draft but never bothered to fix the windows. The view through them looked warm and inviting, but the marine would bet his last berri coin that this place didn't stock a decent beer worth anything. Even the sign well lit by covered lanterns bore a stupid name.

The Cherry Pit, what kind of foolishness was that?

With hobbling and almost jerky steps he flung the door open with enough force to nearly rip it from it's hinges. The bar was built more like an inn on the inside that a dive, which he had to admit surprised him. The chairs were padded and upholstered in rich red cloth. Each table was lovingly polished and shone in the bright light of the fireplace and the numerous candles scattered around. A few people here and there ate from plates of hearty home cooked meals and nope some slop the cooked decided to whip up on the spot. All in all the place looked inviting and was thankfully warm after the long trek through the rain.

Still foolish though, to waste so much time on a place like this, he thought to himself.

Not bothering to close it behind him he muscled his way past the people inside and took a seat on one of the sturdier looking stools to rest his bulk in right in front of the barkeep. He idly ogled the young and attractive looking brunette hair barmaid. His stare caused her shudder. While a more humble man wouldn't think anything of it, the tattered captain cursed her viciously under his breath.

"Welcome to the Cherry Pit. My name is Alfric. Can I help you sir?" the rotund, bespectacled man asked somewhat timidly, stirring him from his fantasy.

The marine hacked and spit upon the clean floor causing the barkeep to wince. He rifled around in his soaking coat for a moment and pulled out two soggy bounty posters, sliding them across the bar with his good hand.

"You seen these two?" he asked in a grizzled voice.

As the barkeep looked over the soggy leaves of paper he noticed the almost fanatical look of apprehension in his eyes. The older man shuddered to think of what would happen to these two pirates if they were caught by this marine. The dark haired man Alfric didn't recognize, but he suppressed a start when he recognized the aquarian features of a seahorse fishman.

**Wanted Dead or Alive**

**Frosty the Rain Cutter**

**Bounty; 20,000,000**

Alfric recognized the good natured fishman right away. He had arrived a few years ago on his own power without a ship and only the clothes on his back and a pair of swords to his name. As he swam up from the ocean a group of villagers met him to determine his intentions. With Arlong terrorizing Cocoyashi Village elsewhere in this same sea everyone was understandably wary. Frosty was a understanding about the whole incident, saying that he only wished for a place to stay in peace to hone his skills. Over time, the whole community slowly began to warm up to their new resident, but it wasn't until he save a pair of local kids that he cemented himself in the hearts of the townsfolk.

Unfortunately for Alfric the captain noticed his moment of pause.

"This sure seems like a nice place you got here Mister Alfric. I'd sure hate to think of what would happen to you and your lass there," he gave a hate filled stare at the barmaid, "If'fin you were to obstruct the official business of a fine marine captain such as myself. Besides that," he leaned forward and smiled a wicked smile at him, "I've been huntin these boys a long damn time Mister Alfric. As God as my witness you do not want to be between me and them. I can promise you that I won't be held responsible for my actions if you were. Why, you'd be surprised how much of a marine captain's actions are covered up to you normal civilians. All in the name of protectin' yourselves from pirates you understand."

The marine captain folded his hands over his stomach and leaned back with a wink.

Alfric had been in this business for many years, so he could smell trouble almost as soon as it walked through his door. This man did not smell like trouble. He reeked of danger, like a wild animal prowling for a wounded lamb. The barman had no doubt in his mind that whatever this lunatic promised through not so vague threats that he would deliver ten times worse in reality.

So with a heavy heart and a trembling hand he pointed him to a table by the corner.

"Smart move Mister Alfric ain't no doubts about that," the marine captain leaned over and helped himself to a bottle of expensive whiskey from under the counter. He offered him another wink and turned to leave.

"Oh, and the name's Silver. Long John Silver," he said as an afterthought.

:::::A few minutes earlier:::::

Stratus took another long pull from his mug and breathed a sigh of satisfaction when he finally surfaced for air.

"Damn that's a tasty beer! Leyla another round!" he shouted to the barmaid, loudly smacking his lips.

Iris ran her fingers through her dark brown hair, rolled her pale green eyes and sipped daintily from her mug, "With as much as you drink it's a miracle you aren't drunk."

The winged man scratched his black beard and rolled his gray eyes at her, "It ain't about getting drunk, though that's a bonus, it's about drinking in and of itself! What are you gonna lighten up and realize that?" he teased playfully.

"As soon as you grow up and start pulling your weight," she teased back.

Greg Jr's hissing sounded suspiciously like laughter a moment later.

Stratus half-heartedly kicked under the table while the snake half-heartedly tried to strike at him, "I don't need no lip from you ya scaly pair of boots!"

The two companions shared a laugh.

Their pockets were finally full again after a depressing lack of funds lately. Ms. Grunder had paid them handsomely for the deer meat they had scavenged from the forest and, after some embellishment of the tale from Stratus, she had even paid them a little extra for the cougar pelts. So with their pockets jingling with their new found wealth. They kept up one of their most long standing traditions after a successful job.

They went to get drunk at the Cherry Pit.

Though it looked like an expensive place the truth was it was a place open and affordable to everyone in town no mater their station. Alfric had confided in them once that he'd been tired of some of the higher end bars and inns that judged people by race or creed. So he wanted to make a finer place that the common man felt welcomed in after a hard day of honest work. So ten years ago he built the Cherry Pit, where the common man could dine finely, as he was wont to say. Every scrap of wood and every piece of iron he'd cut and forged himself on his own dime. Though expensive, he'd more than made up for it by allowing people from all walks of life in to spend their coin,

Which was why the bounty hunting pair were dressed casually and fresh from the hunt. Iris in her dark blue sleeveless shirt and billowing black pants on her slender frame. Stratus shirtless to show off his, godlike physique as he called it, and sporting a pair of brown trousers. The red and black Kuja snake was curled up around Iris's feet like a dog and resting comfortably.

"So, when do you think Frosty is coming back?" Stratus idly asked.

Iris sighed tiredly, "No matter how many times you ask me that I'm not gonna magically pull the answer out of my ass Stratus."

"He's never been gone this long. I'm starting to worry."

The Kuja warrior nearly choked on her beer.

"Worry? About Frosty? Are you kidding me? He routinely beats our asses into the ground. He can take you ten times out of ten in any kind of fight and he;s sneakier than I am step for step."

"Okay lay off. I was just saying," he grumbled.

Iris hadn't meant to snap, but the truth was she was worried too. Though it was no secret that the it mentor could handle himself, it wasn't like him to be gone so long. Nearly six months had passed and there had been no word or sign of him anywhere. Sure he would leave them alone for a week or two at a time to go hunt an especially dangerous bounty for what he called "sword sharpening," but he had never been gone this long. From what they had been able to glean from the few facts the seahorse fishman had dropped he had been a pirate of some small renown. Surely though, they would have heard if he'd been captured right? Or a least seen a crossed out bounty poster, but all he had said to them before he left was that he needed to be alone for awhile to polish his skills and then when he returned their true test would begin.

Whatever that meant.

"Look," she said far more gently, "he'll be back eventually, then he can go back to kicking our asses like usual. We'll be one big happy family again."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

The two shared a comfortable silence for awhile, content with each others company.

The only thing that spoiled their mood was the foul aura that ragged looking marine was giving off.

Speaking of which...

"Heads up. We got company," Stratus said quietly.

"I see him," she said just as softly.

The two pretended to be engaged in a deep conversation as he approached. Though in reality the were sizing him up.

He was a monstrous man standing nearly eight feet tall and nearly half as wide. Despite his bedraggled appearance most of his frame was pure muscle. He leered at them much like a hound with it's prey finally cornered. His stare was so unsettling it caused them both to reach for their weapons. As Stratus' finger's tightened around his cutlass he noticed the man walked with a heavy limp that made a strange sound with every step. Almost like it was hollow. Iris noticed his eyes passed lewdly over her for a moment before a shake of his head transformed his features into a look of a rage so deep she sucked in an involuntary breath. Greg Jr. raised his head slowly and let out a low hiss of warning, swaying from side to side like a cobra. His agitation was so great that he stiffened into a bow as soon as Iris's fingers brushed his scales.

As the marine sat down across from they they couldn't help but notice their knuckles had whitened from gripping their weapons too hard.

"Evenin' pups," he said darkly, "The name's John Silver. Word is you know something about the fish I've been tryin' to hook."

He grinned at his own joke as he slid the bounty posters across the table with a meaty paw. They two were more guarded then Alfric and made no indication that they knew their mentor when they saw his poster.

"Can't say that we have," Stratus replied cooly.

Iris made a show of squinting in concentration for a moment before shrugging, "All fishmen look alike to me sorry."

Silver smiled that wicked smile, but his hand betrayed him as it clenched around the edge of the table hard enough to leave indents.

"Now, now. You pups wouldn't be lyin' to ole John Silver now would you? It's like I told your barkeep friend over there. You'd be amazed at how much leeway a marine captain can get away with during an investigation. Should someone go missing here or there," he shrugged, "Well, I can't protect all of the people all of the time now can I?"

Stratus took a long sip from his mug before leaning forward, "Buddy, the way you look you hadn't protected much outside a mug of rotgut grog."

Iris shot a glare at her partner as if to say, you had to go there didn't you you dumbass?

Just as Silver rose and pulled his hook back to gut the smart mouthed little pup in front of him the door to the bar slammed shut and a voice rang out making the three sitting at the table nearly jump out of their skins. Two out of fear, one out of excitement.

"I have returned my loyal followers! Rejoice!" Frosty cried ducking down as he walked through the door.

Long John Silver grinned a feral grin as he rose from the table, "Sorry pups, you just became useless to me."

The threw aside the table with a mighty sweep of his hand throwing the pair across the room. Even as they were landing he was halfway to the fishman with a few great strides of his good leg, surprisingly fast for a man his size. In another half second his hand was across Frosty's throat even as the fishman's two great swords were halfway from their sheath. By the time the table crashed against the floor Silver had knocked aside those blades and had Frosty pinned against the wall.

"Why hello there freak, it's been awhile."

"Silver, how have you been?" came a choked reply.

The hand around the fishman's throat tightened with enough strength to nearly cause the large seahorse humanoid to black out.

"Oh, you know. Disgraced, mutinied, lost and arm and a leg, stripped of my rank and dignity, half mad and wholly furious, All because of you and your bastard captain. Tell me freak. Where is old Flynn Tiberoa? It'd do my heart good to spit his head on a pike."

Suddenly Silver staggered forward as a dull metallic sound echoed from his leg. He turned to see the girl had fired an arrow at him with a vicious look in her eyes. His leg was made of tougher stuff though, and the shaft clattered uselessly against the ground.

That was all the opening Frosty needed however. Frosty drew back his fists and buried them solidly in Silver's stomach. The larger man let out a grunt of surprise more than pain and loosened his grip around the swordsman's throat. He rolled away from the disgraced captain and came up with both swords drawn.

Stratus came from the right swinging his cutlass down, which Silver blocked with his jagged hook. A well placed kick to the younger man's gut sent him to his knees. Silver swung down hard, looking to impale the bounty hunter and get him out of the way.

A pair of great swords interrupted the killing stroke with a loud clang, but the force was great enough to cause Frosty to take a step back and dig in his heels.

"You will not touch them!" he snarled, "Your fight is with me alone!"

"Fine by me," Silver glanced to the right and pulled his foe forward just in time for an arrow to lodge itself with a solid thunk into Frosty's shoulder.

The former marine kicked out again burying the hollow end of a prosthetic leg in the Frosty's stomach and pressing a button on the side. With a deafening bang the fishman was thrown backwards and completely entangled in an thick rope net.

Iris looked on in horror a what she'd done, which was all the time Silver needed to pull back a lever on his leg and fire a load of iron pellets at her.

She froze as time seemed to slow and everything took on an extremely sharp definition. The grain on the fallen table next to her. The bright flickering candles. The shine of light across the deadly projectiles. Even the rough scales of her beloved companion beneath her fingers. The sharp cry of Stratus as he screamed he name. He tried to move for her, but he was far too slow.

I'm about to die, she thought fleetingly.

Darkness overtook her then, but it wasn't cold like she feared it would be. No it was warm as it put her arms around her and drew her close. The darkness jerked violently as the buckshot hit with a loud crash. She flinched and held on tightly to the front of the darkness' white shirt.

Wait a minute.

When she finally opened her eyes it was to a pair of pale green ones set in a handsome face framed by long dark hair. He smiled at her showing off shiny white teeth and smelled of fragrant smoke. Vaguely she heard the sound of iron clattering on the floor realizing it was the shot falling off his back with an audible gasp

"Sorry Miss," he said in a smooth voice, "Didn't meant to drag you two into my problems. I'll have it mopped up in a second."

He turned and she saw the ragged mess his shirt and black vest had become. Strangely though, there wasn't a drop of blood.

"_**You.." **_Silver replied straight from the depths of hell.

"Me," came a surprisingly jolly reply, "Now hold that thought just a second."

He turned to his entangled companion, "What the hell are you doing down there Frost?"

"Oh you know, just hanging out," came the sardonic reply, "I thought you weren't coming for another day or two. Not that I'm complaining in any way."

"Got bored," he said simply.

"In that rickety little boat?"

"Yeah."

"How'd you find me? You can barely navigate!"

"Followed your wake. Lost you for awhile, but then I just closed my eyes, then pointed and prayed. Looks like someone was listening," Flynn grinned.

Frosty gaped at him. He couldn't even form words in his astonishment.

Flynn leapt back as the spot in front of him splintered under the force of a blow from Silver's hook.

"Hey! We were talking! I told you to give me a second!" Flynn snapped.

"Oh I'm sorry," Silver tittered out a mad laughter, "Was I interrupting? Well you didn't mind interrupting the use of my goddamned hand!" he snarled as he showed off his hook.

Flynn inspected it a moment, "To be fair you were shooting at me, and besides it looks good on you. Silver right? I see what you did there."

With a soundless cry of rage John rushed Flynn with wild abandon. The much smaller man effortlessly back pedaled and dodged every swing, sometimes with inches to spare. Silver's face purpled with rage until Flynn backed himself into a corner. Seemingly uncaring to the towering machine of rage before him. John cried out in triumph as he raised his blunderbuss prosthetic.

"Okay, I'm done now," Flynn dashed forward impossibly fast and drove his fist deep into the barrel of Silver's leg.

"I have you now you fool!" Silver crowed.

Right before his leg imploded and threw him backwards in a spray of blood. Dazed and shaken he looked up to see the object of his fury and his curse leering down at him. Gone was the playful joviality. The only thing in his eyes was a depthless and frigid apathy.

Long John Silver shivered in fear.

"You see, thing is, I honestly don't care if you come after me Johnny Boy. You are so far beneath me it honestly doesn't matter one way or the other. Hunt me to the ends of the earth and beyond if you want. But the moment you decide to go after my friends to get to me? Now there Johnny Boy, is when you start screwing up. That's when I start to take you seriously and believe me, I am the last goddamned person you want to have set their sights upon you."

Flynn punched him square in the face and shattered the Silver's jaw mercifully knocking the man out cold.

He turned and knelt by Frosty and gave the ropes a sharp tug and snapping them.

"You alright? Looks like you got hit pretty good," he offered Frosty a hand.

The fishman rose on his own and pulled the arrow from his arm., "Mostly my pride and nothing a night of binge drinking won't cure."

"What the hell are you?" Stratus asked.

Flynn turned to see the winged man Frosty was talking about staring at him with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

After a moment's contemplation Flynn grinned.

"You can call me Captain. Because I'm here to ask you to join the Gold Rush Pirates."

**Wanted Dead or Alive**

**Flynn Tiberoa the Headsman**

**Bounty; 35,000,000**


	3. Chapter 3

One Piece: The Gold Rush Pirates

Chapter Three: The Beginnings of Adventure

**Author's Note: I've decided to start posting a little note before every chapter. After this first one I'm going to try to limit it to maybe one to three paragraphs or less. This story came to me through a D&D adaptation of one piece. We play at least once a week and it's been pretty darn successful so far. So, as a way to break back into writing after a long hiatus, I wanted to adapt our One Piece D&D adventures into a story. I'm hoping it will be as popular as our weekly game night.**

**For anyone who's interested I'm opening a character creation page. Please submit your idea to me in a pm and I'll do my best to work it into the story. The story takes place during Luffy's adventures, but it will be mostly centered around the OC crew, but I'm always willing to hear about any OC ideas you submit. Here's the criteria.**

**Name:**

**Age:**

**Description: (Please be as detailed as possible)**

**Personality: (Please be as detailed as possible) **

**Weapon/Fighting Style:**

**Devil Fruit: (Optional)**

**Dream:**

**Race: (Human, Fishman, Kuja, ect)**

**Affiliation: (Marine, Pirate, Merchant's Guild, Thieves Guild, Assassin's Guild)**

The silence contained within The Cherry Pit Bar was a fragile as glass but as loud as thunder.

Long John Silver lay on the floor in a comatose heap, knocked unconscious by the strange young man claiming to be a pirate. Stratus and Iris, the two bounty hunters, were rooted to the spot after the female warrior's brush with death. Many of the remaining patrons peeked over their makeshift cover behind overturned tables and crouched behind walls.. Alfric stood stock still behind the bar, only just now giving in to worry and peeking over to see the state his precious treasure was in. His breath caught in his throat when he heard the young man's declaration.

"A-a pirate?" Alfric said when he was able to breathe again..

Flynn grinned and thumped his chest proudly, "Damn straight I'm a pirate, now I'll take a bottle of top shelf whiskey and a box of South Blue Salazar's!"

The bartender gaped at him for a moment before attempting to talk, "Kid, despite how fancy I tried to make this place look, this is just a backwater bar in the boonies of the east blue."

"So no smokes?"

"Afraid not."

"Well I'll be damned...What about the booze?" Flynn sighed dejectedly.

Alfric reached under the counter and tossed Flynn a bottle, it was the least he could do for the young man after he'd stopped Silver's rampage.

"Hey!" the winged man snapped loudly, "I asked you a question! What the hell are you!? Silver shot you in the back but you aren't laid out dead on the floor, and your hand! How in the hell is half of you not blown away by that blunderbuss? And Frosty! How the hell do you know this guy!? I thought you were a bounty hunter now not a friggin' sea bandit!"

Frosty calmly walked over and knocked Stratus across the back of his head.

"Kid I never denied I was a pirate and everyone else branded me as a hunter after awhile. I've always been a pirate at heart. Hell this isn't even my first crew nor is Flynn my first Captain," he turned to look at the shell shocked villagers with a sincerely apologetic shrug, "Sorry if I let all of you think I reformed, but this is just how it is.."

"But you hunted pirates!" someone shouted.

"Yeah, to test my skills and fill my pockets."

"So that makes you a bounty hunter!" Iris interjected.

The Great Seahorse Fishman rubbed his temples in frustration, "Look call me what you want. Fact is that I'm a pirate through and through."

Flynn stared at the exchange for a full ten seconds of silent contemplation before he sat down next to an overturned table. No need to get into his first mate's business if he didn't have to. After a moment's examination of the broken leg he pulled the whole thing closer as well as a small hammer and a handful of nails out of a pouch by his hip and set to work. Gradually the few patrons that remained came out of hiding while the barmaid disappeared into a back room. In the span of a few short minutes the table was mostly good as new. Sure the heads of the few nails he'd needed were visible, but they didn't jut out from the wood to snag flesh or clothing, which was a sure sign of shoddy carpentry. When he was done he moved on to a broken chair pulling out more tools. The feel and sounds of the hammer striking the thin iron nails was familiar and soothing to him.

Not to Stratus though, who felt he was being ignored. A vein of anger throbbed in his forehead.

"Hey you! Don't act like you're not a part of this! I asked you-"

"I heard you, I heard you, keep your pants on. Jeez you act like you've never seen a pirate before despite the fact that you claim to be a bounty hunter." Flynn grumbled, "Truth is I'm Frosty's captain. I used to be the first mate on our previous crew and he was the second mate, and about why I'm not hurt it's because I'm made of a hell of a lot tougher stuff than most people. So let's just say, for now, that I possess certain abilities that let me do the things I do. If you decide to join my crew I'll be more than happy to explain them in full."

When he finished he set the newly repaired table and chair off in a corner and rose dusting himself off.

"As for who I am, my name is Flynn Tiberoa. I'm currently a captain without a crew and I'm looking to recruit. Right now I'm looking at you two."

Iris and Stratus looked at each other, then back at Flynn, then at Frosty who was leaned up against the bar nursing his arm and a drink, then to each other.

Iris was the first to speak, "Um, can we have some time to think about this? We literally just barely survived your mess," she glared lightly at him, "and I think it's important if we, being bounty hunters, should really be making the transition to pirates."

"Look, I already apologized for dragging you both into Silver's crusade, but the truth is he was a marine and I'm a pirate. That's just how it works. Not my fault he was an obsessed and incompetent idiot."

"Doesn't help when you rile him up every chance you get," Frosty grumbled.

Flynn opened his mouth to speak, but felt the cold steel of a gun barrel pressed against his temple.

Everyone froze.

"Marie! No!" Alfric cried.

The young woman with the dark brown hair held an antique flintlock in trembling hands. Her arms and elbows were rigidly locked and she took a wide stance. Her eyes were wild and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. From his point of view, she looked as if she'd never held a gun before in her life.

"If you're a pirate, you're not welcome here," she told him, "Please, just leave. Please..."

Flynn stared her down but didn't move. He sighed softly through his nose and stared straight at the two young hunters.

"This is the unfortunate side affect of being a pirate. All the freedom in the world, riches as far as the eye can see, and wonders that defy explanation, but there are still some people who hate and revile us simply because of what we choose to be."

"I said leave!" she screamed.

He turned to look at her and she pulled the trigger as Flynn murmured a single word.. The bang was deafening.

"Tekkai."

Flynn's head snapped back a few inches and he reached up to rub his head in annoyance. The flattened round fell and clattered against the floor. Black powder coated his brow over a rapidly darkening bruise. A small trickle of blood began to flow down his face. Marie, as well as most of the bar, stared on in horror, then she fainted dead away.

Frosty stepped forward to catch her.

Iris and Stratus stared at him in shock.

"Why did she...?" Iris began.

The bartender raced around the bar and to the fishman's side and gently brushed Marie's hair out of her face. There was heartbreak in his eyes.

"Her parents were killed by pirates when she was a little girl. She's held a grudge ever since. She's never been strong enough to enact her revenge in a tangible way like those two there," he pointed at Stratus and Iris, "but she's always tried to keep them well taken care of in this bar to keep their strength up."

Iris gasped as Stratus shifted uncomfortably. Looking back, the young girl doting on them made a lot more sense now.

"I'm sor-" Alfric began but Flynn cut him off.

"Don't worry about it. I'm a Peacemaine, not a Morgaineer."

"I'm not sure I understand the difference good sir."

"Truth is a lot of people don't. Peacemaine's become pirates for fame and adventure, but Morgaineer's are the ones who give us a bad name. They're the ones who plunder and kill and much worse. Me and Frosty, we're Peacemaines." he said softly and turned to the duo, "If you come with me you'll be like Frosty and I. I'll show you sights far greater than what you witnessed just now. Things the likes of which are only spoken of in wondrous fairy tales and maddened nightmares, but the World Government will forever brand you as threats to justice."

Without another word, he laid a large sum of belli on the table he'd repaired and walked out. Frosty followed behind with Silver slung over his shoulder.

Frosty walked upstairs to find a bed for Marie.

Stratus gaped at Iris.

"What the hell just happened!?"

"I don't know, but it looks like you and me need to talk..."

**:::::Sometime later:::::**

Iris, Stratus, and Greg Jr. sat upon a cliff face overlooking a rocky beach and stared out into the deep blue sea. Behind them was the soft rustling of the forest and the whisper of wind. The waves hushed and and sighed gently as they rolled over the beach. The sunset painted the sky with a master's brush of pink and orange and the fading blue. This was another tradition of theirs after a celebratory visit to the Cherry Pit when the successfully completed a job. No matter how long they spend here drinking in the view, and on occasion rum, neither one had any problems. They both considered it time well spent.

Stratus lay on the grass with his hands behind his head and using his coat as a pillow. Iris sat cross-legged while her kuja snake curled around her arms and neck as she stroked his scales absently. Predictably, her partner was the first to break the silence.

"You know, for the first time, I don't know what to do."

Iris shared a look with Greg Jr. and they both smirked, "Only this one time? I think you're lying just a little bit."

"Shut up," he said, but there was no venom behind it, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she said after a moment's contemplation.

The pair listened to the wind and the waves for a good long time. Each lost in their own thoughts as the time flew by.

The more he thought about it the more obvious it became, despite all of the cons. As much as he loved this island, it was too peaceful. There was no way he'd be able to get stronger on these nickle and dime pirates. Besides, many of the other hunter's he'd met said pirates fight all the time. If he joined up with the Flynn guy he'd definitely improve his skills. Stratus couldn't quite figure that guy out. He was obviously strong, but how strong remained to be seen. Maybe under his captaincy he could even surpass Frosty. When his thoughts drifted back to his life before coming down to the Blue Sea his blood began to boil. He took a deep breath to steady himself. If he stayed here any longer his skills would start to deteriorate. Hell, that bounty hunter from deeper into the East Blue became a pirate with little trouble. What was his name? Zolo? Zoro? Zani?

Eh, it probably didn't matter. Not like he was ever gonna meet the guy anyway.

Iris idly turned a blade of grass over and over in her hands, her thoughts swirling around in her head. The thought of becoming a pirate loomed before her like a great black door. One she wasn't sure she wanted to cross. She was content on this island, but was that really enough for her? Especially considering her situation. There was no way she could she could fulfill her obligation now on this sleepy little island. However, it would catch up with her eventually. Better on the high seas then here on Cherry Island where someone might get hurt. She glanced over at Stratus, but he looked lost in his own little world. She sighed and dropped the blade of grass. Greg Jr. coiled around her protectively, sensing her conflict. Iris clenched her fist in anger. How dare they charge her with such an impossible task simply because she was beautiful?

They shared a look and had their answer.

**:::::The Next Morning:::::**

Flynn tended to a small vessel a the dock Long John landed in last night. If Flynn's timing had been off by merely an hour, well, it's best not to think of what might have been.

Flynn's boat was a small junk ship only able to hold a handful of people. The oaken hull resembled the ribs of a large animal and was darkly stained while showing slight signs of wear, but no leaks or breaks marred the solid wood. The fully battened sails were likewise worn as the rested among two masts and were designed to resemble the fins of a fish. The whole thing was about thirty feet long. It'd be a tight squeeze for four people, but they could easily spread out throughout both decks. Even if the bottom deck was the cargo hold, it was better than sleeping shoulder to shoulder.

A loud splash against the wooden deck signaled Frosty's return.

"Take care of our pest problem?" Flynn asked.

Earlier Frosty had tied Silver up with a sturdy length of rope and dropped him unceremoniously in his small ship. Then he pushed it a few dozen miles out to sea. Hopefully he wouldn't be a problem any longer.

"Oh yeah, talked to a couple of sharks too. Let's say I encouraged them that if Silver tried to sail back here he was free game."

Flynn frowned, "Won't he just shoot them with his foot?"

A sly smile crossed the great seahorse fishman's features and he held up Silver's prosthetic hook and leg, "Not without these he won't."

They shared a laugh as the limbs splashed into the water and sank.

The captain and first mate finished tying off the ropes and went through his mental checklist readying the ship as he went. With both of them working together at a leisurely pace it took forty-five minutes of work to prep the ship to sail. When the two hunters joined and he got them trained up on their jobs they'd be ready to go from island to island a lot quicker.

For there was no doubt in Flynn's mind as to their answer.

Sure enough, the two bounty hunters were soon spotted heading towards them with their packs over their shoulders while Alfric followed behind to bid them farewell.

"The sea is a dangerous place, but keep your heads about you and stick together and you'll have little trouble."

Stratus grinned at him, "Don't worry, I'll make sure she stays out of trouble old timer."

Iris slapped him on the back of his head and nodded toward the barman.

"That roughly translates to I'm gonna miss you in Stratus speak," she informed him.

"Shut up. I'm tryin' to leave cool and you're screwin' it up for me!"

Alfric laughed and patted them both on the back before making his way toward his beloved bar, but now before turning to shout at Flynn.

"You take care of these kids you hear!?"

"Will do!" he cried back.

Flynn watched them approach with a smile which widened smile as they ascended the gangplank.

"Welcome both of you."

Iris and Stratus set their meager belongings on the deck and they both stared him down.

The Kuja was the first to speak, "Don't get the wrong idea. We're coming for our own reasons and not for you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

She held up a hand, "In fact the only reason we're giving you as much credit as we are is because Frosty vouches for you. This doesn't mean we trust you of course. If you even think about plundering a ship that doesn't deserve it me and Stratus are both out of here, but not before we take you down. We clear?"

"Crystal," Flynn said with a smile, "hammocks are below already set up and you can put your things in the chests provided."

Iris shuddered uncomfortably at how confident he was as she went below deck, it was almost like he'd known they'd say yes.

"Alright listen here Flynn," Stratus began cracking his knuckles, "I ain't followin' anyone I can beat with my own two hands. I'm not nearly as easy to please as she is. So you're gonna have to beat me down before I'll call you Cap'n."

Frosty and Flynn looked at each other, then back at Stratus with that cocky determined look on his face.

"If I beat you then I get to be Cap'n."

That did it. Both Stratus and Flynn broke in to deep uproarious laughter.

The hunter's stance faltered ever so slightly, "Hey, cut it out. What's so funny?"

Flynn wiped a tear from his eye, "Kid, nothing against you, but at your current level you can;t even beat Frosty. I'm a whole hell of a lot tougher than Frosty."

"Hey..." the fishman in question said and Flynn patted him on the back.

"I can take you!" Stratus cried.

Flynn slipped on a pair of black gloves he'd produced from his back pocket and took up a fighting stance.

"By all means kid, give it your best shot," he smirked, "first one's free."

Stratus drew his sword and charged across the deck with a wild battle cry. Each passing second brought him closer and closer until be swing his sword down in a vicious two handed strike meant to cleave Flynn in half. The captain was surprised to feel a gust of wind from the blade strike him.

The jarring sound of clanging metal reached the hunter's ears as his hands shook from the might of the blow, but that was all.

Captain Tiberoa stood there unbowed and unmoved as the sword pressed tightly against his chest. Just like the shot from Silver's blunderbuss there wasn't a scratch or a single drop of blood from. the long haired man.

"My turn," Flynn smiled.

The Captain drew back his fist and punched Stratus squarely in the stomach. So surprised from the uselessness of his sword he didn't have time to form a proper defense. Flynn's strike sent him tumbling across the deck and into the water with a great splash.

When he surfaced sputtering and coughing he found Flynn staring back at him with a grin.

"When you get back up here you can swab the deck ad punishment for striking your captain."

"Yes Cap'n," Stratus grumbled as he swam to shore.


	4. Chapter 4

One Piece: The Gold Rush Pirates

Chapter Four: A Pirate's Life For Me

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for the long wait. I just needed to fight back a severe bout of writer's block and to plan out a bit where I want this story to go and how I want the characters in it to act/react. My update schedule will by Mondays and Fridays and hopefully settle into the groove on things. Thank you for being so patient.**

**Also, I don't know much about the routines of a ship but I'm doing as much research as I can. If any of you have any helpful tips of what to do or where to look believe me, I'm all ears.**

To a certain degree, everyone romanticizes life at sea. Pirates proudly spouted tall tales in bars to anyone who would listen, and many did with rapt attention as they jingled bulging sacks of coins. Marines stood backed by their brothers in town squares telling the locals that they too could make a difference on the sea with their bright white uniforms and polished swords.. To many the open water represented a life full of untold mystery, endless treasure, and constant adventure.

Though it was not to say that sailing life wasn't worth it, the vast oceans that covered the world held vast amounts of all three. The wind in your sails, the spray of the sea, and the boundless freedom it represented called to everyone who would listen. The sea was a magical dangerous place filled with wonder and woe. None more so than the infamous Grand Line, the Pirate's Graveyard, said to hold the One Piece, the great treasure of the legendary Pirate King.

To anyone who had actually sailed upon the briny blue, the act of sailing itself was a boring affair filled with endless monotony.

Flynn was by no means a navigator and, as it turned out, neither were Stratus or Iris. Frosty however, was most adept at the role. Every few hours he would hop out of the boat and swim across the ocean floor seeking out deep ocean currents in order to make sure they were keeping to their course. The fishman estimated that it would take them a week to reach the next island. Recommending the slow pace to familiarize the new recruits with their jobs.

The first day was slow going, but nowhere near as bad as it could have been. Stratus had never served on a ship before. In fact he'd only ever been on a ship as a passenger or a bodyguard for fat, lazy merchants. Truth be told, he knew nothing of sailing life. Flynn put him in the crow's nest on lookout until he could learn another job. A few hours later a god awful sound rang through the ship loud enough for everyone to gather on deck.

"What the hell is that?" Frosty grimaced.

"It sounds like a dying Sea King," Iris clamped her hands tightly over her ears.

"More like a bear trying to chew another bear out of a trap."

Everyone looked at the captain, who shrugged sheepishly.

"Don't ask me how I know what that sounds like..."

There came a quiet rustling and Flynn's eyes widened in outrage.

"I know what it is," he growled.

Flynn's foot lashed out and struck the mast hard enough to vibrate the deck and Stratus fell out of the crow's nest with a crash.

"What the hell was that for!?" he cried indignantly.

"No sleeping on duty," his scowling captain pressed a net into the bird man's hands, "You're on food duty for the day. I don't want to see you on this deck until that net is full."

Stratus looked to Frosty who merely shook his head. He turned to Iris, who looked away pointedly and whistled a tune.

With a flap of his wings he flew out to sea grumbling and cursing. A few more days of provision duty, and he no longer felt inclined to slack off on the job.

Iris, as it turned out, was an experienced sailor. She flitted to and fro across the deck and in and out of the cargo hold with practiced ease that surprised even the seahorse fishman. Because of her familiarity with bows, she took expertly to tying the rigging and securing the loose cargo in the hold. As well as making sure nothing on deck would fall overboard during a storm or choppy water. Soon enough she settled into an easy routine which she went through throughout the day.

Without a doubt in his mind, Flynn knew she had served on a ship before. The question was what kind and where, and is she knew so much about sailing why didn't her partner?

Two days passed in relative comfort as the bounty hunters turned pirates fell in to their new life.

The two veteran pirates called the two novice's on deck and laid out what was expected of them.

"I'm not a man for speeches," their captain began, "and I'm not hard to work for. Most of the time I'll let you have free reign on how you complete whatever task I give you so long as you do it right," he took a deep breath. And suddenly he was all business, "however when I do give you an order I expect you to follow it asap. Because how fast you follow my orders may very well determine whether you, or more importantly your crew mates live or die. I won;t tolerate anyone on my ship who can't follow orders. Clear?"

"Crystal," Iris said.

"Sure," Stratus muttered.

Flynn clapped them both on the shoulders with a welcoming smile, "Good to have you aboard. Both of you will share the position of Second Mate while you're on this crew."

He started to walk away, before he stopped suddenly and snapped his fingers, " Oh, and before I forget, Frosty do you have anything for them? You've known them longer than I have."

The seahorse fishman nodded and stepped forward, "You've both known me a long time. I raised you, I taught you how to fight, and how to survive in this world. Though neither of you have proven your mettle against anything more than the predators of the forest, I know you won't falter in combat."

He smiled at them both, and they puffed out their chests in pride.

"Why didn't he tell us that on the first day?" Iris whispered when Flynn was out of earshot.

"Hell if I know," Stratus whispered back.

"He's a big forgetful on ship protocol," Frosty told them in a stage whisper to which Flynn muttered a curse right back at him.

Both took to their new jobs well.

Flynn's boat was a little on the small side, so the four pirates occupying it were in cramped, but not uncomfortable conditions. Iris immediately called the entirety of the cargo hold and slammed the hatch in their faces. Her only words on the subject were, "a girl's got to have her secrets" before she set her Kuja Snake to guard the door. Stratus looked to Flynn to kick her out, but the captain merely shrugged and jerked a thumb in the snake's direction.

"If you want to tangle with that mess feel free. I'm more than comfortable sleeping under the stars."

Stratus wasn't sure he was talking entirely about the snake.

So the three male members of the crew fashioned a makeshift tent from the spare sails and slept in hammocks on deck. Aside from the odd wave rushing over the rails and waking them up with a strangled cry, it wasn't so bad.

Iris and Stratus acclimated to their new posts quickly and, by the third day, knew the ins and outs of their small ship as well as their jobs. Putting them through their paces revealed than Iris could batten down the sails in just shy of ten minutes under ideal conditions. Not a great time, but great for a first try. Frosty shot jets of water in every direction from the sides of the ship, and Stratus was able to see seven out of ten splashes when they hit the water. Again, not great, but a great first try.

"These kid's have a lot of promise," Flynn told Frosty.

The first mate scoffed, "Of course they do, I don't waste my time with just anyone."

On the fourth day, boredom had begun to set in and they two new recruits had taken to bugging Frosty and Flynn.

Stratus paced the ship up and down restlessly. He went around and sometimes pushed past his shipmates. He wore a path down from the fore of the ship to the aft until he finally snapped.

"Frosty! Duel me!"

After that ten minutes was up, and the bird man nearly fell out of the boat, he began to walk his beaten path again.

"Flynn! Duel me!"

Flynn beat him in less than five, and banished him to the crow's nest.

"And I swear if I catch you sleeping this time I will make you dive for the fish like a damned seagull!" he threatened.

Iris was a little more bearable than her partner. She sat on the rail of the ship beside the helm and asked questions.

"So, Captain, where are you from exactly?"

"The Grand Line," he said as if weren't the most dangerous sea on earth.

She leapt off the wheel with wide eyes, "Are you serious!?"

"Yeah," he said with a turn of the wheel, "problem?"

"I'm from the Grand Line!"

"Really?" Flynn said bemused, "Small world."

Frosty spit a jet of water off the side of the ship, followed by Stratus's triumphant cry.

"Three o'clock starboard!"

"Good Job!" Frosty pounded the rail proudly.

Iris rolled her eyes while Flynn chuckled softly.

"What brought you all the way to the East Blue?" she asked.

Flynn paused for a long while. Iris was about to ask again when turned to her and smiled, "There's just something magical about the East Blue don't you think? People call it the weakest of the four Blues, but every once in awhile it surprises you. Hell Gold Roger himself came from these seas, as well as that new kid who beat Saw-Nose Arlong."

She frowned and crossed her arms, not really sure how to respond.

"What brings you here then?"

On that matter she remained stubbornly silent.

"Hey, you came to talk to me remember?"

"Fair enough, but I don't feel like talking about my past to someone I just met. Wouldn't you agree?"

He softly smiled, but had to concede him a point.

The sea spray rose around them as the glided through the waters under a favorable wind. An uncomfortable silence descended on them both. Flynn stared straight ahead over the vast blue sea. Iris stared intently at the deck or at Flynn when she thought he wasn't looking. Eventually she leaned back against the rail.

"How can you do the things you do?" she asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

She glared at him in irritation, "You took a blunderbuss to the back. Stratus couldn't even cut you. He's many things, but no slouch with a sword."

Stratus leapt down from the crow's nest with a dull thump and walked over to join the conversation.

"Yeah, I've been wondering that myself. When I aim to cut something I cut it," he proudly thumped his chest.

"Unless of course you're drunk and trying to show off to a loose barmaid," his partner sneered.

"Shaddup!" he snapped, "She was totally into me!"

"Like the last four?" she said smugly.

"They were into me too!"

Frosty gave him a playful shove, "And that's why they all left you without loving you."

"Rokushiki," Flynn said quietly.

"What?"

"Wha?"

"The Six Paths," the seahorse fishman explained and took up the wheel as Flynn stepped aside.

"What the hell is that?" Stratus asked.

Flynn didn't answer at first, he just looked at Stratus and pointed down to the hold.

"Go grab the fishing net."

Stratus seized up and looked fearfully down in the hold, wondering what he'd done this time, "No, no! I'll get right back up into the nest. There's no need for that."

Before he could make his mad scramble up the mast, Flynn caught him by the arm and chuckled, "You're not in trouble, but you will be if you don't go get the net."

Stratus disappeared down the hatch and came right back up with the vile instrument of torture.

Flynn stretched his legs and walked over to the railing. Frosty followed him over, looking him up and down critically.

"I'm not going to have to pull you out again am I?"

"Relax," he waved his hand, "I'm a professional."

"See, that's what you said last time. So, imagine my surprise, when I came back up from the cargo hold to find you sinking like a hammer. I had to dive thirty feet down to pull your showboating carcass out of the water. Then I had to give you mouth to-"

"Don't say it!" Flynn cut him off.

Both pirates suppressed a shudder.

Shaking it off the captain turned back to Iris and Stratus, who stared at them in puzzlement.

"A story for another time, perhaps never."

The partners shared a look, then shrugged.

"Rokushiki," Flynn began, "is a martial art that turns the practitioner into a superhuman fighting machine. There are six disciplines, or paths, that take years to master. Even after a fifteen years of training I don't have it completely mastered. A true master can crush an army single handed."

"Bullshit," Stratus spoke up.

"Nobody can do that, not even with a devil fruit," Iris sounded skeptical.

If Flynn could grin any wider the top of his head would have come off.

"Study closely because the first path teaches you how to fly," and he jumped off the rail.

Then he kept going without ever touching the water.

"Geppou."

Both their jaw's hit the deck as he leapt across the sky, kicking off the air as easily as if it were solid earth. He bounded and back flipped and twisted over the sea without ever touching the water until he dipped down and plunged the net into a school of silvery fish.

"The next path teaches you how to move fast enough to disappear."

As the fish scattered around him, he kicked the surface of the water ten times in a single moment and vanished without a trace.

"Soru."

The watched in amazement as he disappeared and, one by one, so did the fish as they tried to escape the net. Soon none were left and their captain was gone. They scanned the water's all around the boat, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Where are you looking?"

They jumped as he materialized behind them hefting a bulging net full of fish.

"You're already familiar with tekkai, which makes my muscles as hard as iron and the last three I'll keep a secret for now." he winked.

Stratus was gaping at him, not from astonishment, but from anger.

"You mean to tell me that it took me hours to catch half of those fish and you could do it anytime you wanted!?"

"Pretty much yeah," Flynn picked his ear.

Frosty pushed past his irate pupil and grinned, "The captain is a bit of a showoff and a braggart but if you can look past that he's alright."

"Really?" Flynn raised an eyebrow, "Well then fishman how 'bout you show off your cooking skills and fry us up some fish tonight?"

Frosty gaped at him, before he pointed indignantly at his nakama, "Me? To hell with that it's your turn! I cooked last night."

"Alright, sure," he said slyly making a grab for the fish, "I had forgotten how much you liked my cooking is all."

The first mate snatched up the net, fish and all, and raced down to the cargo hold to clean the prize.

"You look a little green around the gills Frost!" he laughed.

Stratus and Iris couldn't help but smirk, it wasn't everyday they got to see their master have one pulled over on him.

The ship lurched wildly to the side, nearly knocking the crew off their feet. The wet sound of something hitting the deck echoed below deck and the seahorse fishman let loose a frightful curse.

"What was that!?" Iris cried.

"What the hell are you doing up here!" her master bellowed as he climbed up the hatch, "I leave you alone for ten damned seconds and you nearly capsize us!"

Stratus quickly ascended to the crow's nest and grabbed his spyglass, scanning the water's for trouble.

Just in time to see a serpentine shape slither under the boat.

"Trouble underneath us!" he cried as a blue fin cut through the waves, "it's moved to the starboard bow!"

"Sea King!" Frosty roared!

"Well this should be fun," Flynn Tiberoa cracked his knuckles, "Go get em kids!"

Then he threw both of them off the boat.

Some days though, boredom was far and few between.


	5. Chapter 5

One Piece: The Gold Rush Pirates

Chapter Five: Learning the Ropes

**Author's Note: I know I said I'd update on Monday's but I may just update on Fridays or Saturdays because I've found that if I wait a day and go back over my work I can add and remove to and from the story a lot smoother. The next one will definitely be up Friday though. I apologize in advance for any typos in this chapter. I usually double check my worth but I was in a hurry at the time. I'm also upping my word count per chapter to 5000. So they'll be a little longer from here on out. **

** I'm also going to be trying a few new things as to how things will look in this story. Mainly page breaks and the writing style itself. I won't be monkey'ing with it too bad though. I just want to see what's most pleasing to the eye and easier on us all.**

The king of the sea rose from the water with a savage snarl and an insatiable hunger reflected in it's coal black eyes. Dagger-like teeth gnashed at the prospect of an easy meal. The scales on it's body reflected the cool blue waves, making the great beast seem like the tide come to life. He let out an ear splitting roar that shook the ship through to every nail and board.

As well as the two pirate prospects flying toward him courtesy of their captain. Iris and Stratus rocketed toward the seaking screaming their lungs out and making spectacular target's of themselves.

"Fight or die time!" Flynn crowed from the ship.

"Idiot!" Frosty roared and knocked his captain aside to leap into the sea.

Frosty was a head and shoulders taller than Flynn and outweighed him by fifty pounds of muscle, but the captain grabbed him by the ankle in mid air and jerked him roughly back into the ship in a tangled heap.

"What the hell are you doing!?" The great seahorse roared and swung at Flynn, "They're going to get killed!"

Flynn spun around the outstretched limb and sent his first mate to the deck with a well placed kick, then pinned the larger humanoid to the deck. When he spoke it chilled Frosty to the bone.

"You got to let them go sometime friend. If they can't beat a seaking then they're of no use to me because they'll die the first time they come across a real challenge."

He reluctantly let the fishman go, half expecting another attack, but Frosty backed down. Anger, understanding, and, worst of all, betrayal marred his features.

"Fine, but if they die so help me," he said darkly.

"Hey, if you really trained them as well as I think you did, then they'll be fine," he smiled patting his friend on the back.

Years of working together had honed the bounty hunting duo's teamwork to a razor's edge. So when Flynn tossed them overboard at that god awful monster, Stratus reflexively spread his wings and straightened out as he took to the air. Iris' arm shot out and clasped his wrist tightly. Stratus had honed his strength for years under Frosty's care and it was more than enough to carry them both around the snapping jaws of the beast and swoop around behind him.

"See what I mean?" Flynn said more than a little smugly.

Frosty still maintained a worried expression.

"Look, if they look like they need a hand we'll step in okay?"

"...I hate you captain."

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"I'm gonna freaking kill that guy," the bird man growled.

"We have bigger problems to worry about!" Iris howled, "Afterward we kill him!"

He ducked and weaved around the dagger-like teeth of the monster as it tried to pluck them out of the air with it's wicked jaws.

"What the hell do we do now?"

"He told us to kill it," she snapped, "so we kill it."

"But he didn't say-"

"We kill it!"

"Yes ma'am."

He hooked his arm up and over and she went sailing through the air, he flew forward with a burst of speed to catch her on his back as her snake bow uncoiled from around her waist. The serpent went rigid in her hands as she tied the string around his neck and tail, readying her devastating bow.

She closed her eyes in concentration and snapped them open a moment later as she pulled a jet black arrow from her quiver.

"Armor Haki."

She pulled back smoothly and took aim, "Keep me steady," she murmured.

"Right," he spread his wings wide and leveled out just as the seaking turned and roared.

Three shots in rapid succession flew with deadly precision. Three shots struck square in the beast's mouth and straight through it's bottom jaw and into it's chest. He roared in pain and fury and fell back under the water.

"Ha! Take that you slimy bastard!" Stratus whooped.

Crimson stained the still waters, but there was no sign of the beast. An eerie calm descended upon them. No sound, not even the lapping waves, reached their ears and even the wind stilled.

"Do you think we got him?" she asked.

"Not a chance."

The sea began to rumble and churn underneath them and they were buffeted by a massive killer intent. A cold dark shadow materialized underneath them and coalesced into the shape of a massive, jagged maw racing up to engulf them.

The seaking exploded out of the sea sending hundreds of gallons of water over a hundred feet in the air. Th triumph of a successful hunt shined brightly in it's eyes as his jaws extended like a shark's to snap up the two morsels out of thin air. The dark chasm of it's throat seemed to go on for eternity.

Stratus tried to fly away, pumping his wings furiously as Iris began to scream but he knew he'd never make it away in time carrying them both. He was strong enough to lift them, but not fast enough.

"Screw this!" he threw Iris far and away where she splashed down into the sea. If one of them was destined to die this day, it would be him.

Not without a fight though. Never without a fight.

He turned in mid air, tucking his wings close and fell toward the monster. He placed one hand halfway down the sheath and the other on the hilt of his sword. The beast was almost upon him dripping buckets of drool into the sea and it's breath was foul enough to make him gag.

"Iaijutsu, the art of the quick draw," he flicked his thumb across the sea shell in the hilt and it blazed into a red hot flame. Spinning around at the last moment he spun around the jaws as they snapped closed on empty air.

"Infernus Strike!"

He dove down drawing, slashing, and sheathing his sword in one fluid motion and drew a line of fire into the massive animal's flesh.

It's keening wail echoed over the water as it's great bulk fell beneath the waves in a tremendous shower of water.

Stratus flew past he beast and dove into the water beside his partner.

Iris swam closer as he broke the surface, and her punch sent him down below again where he sputtered out a mouth of seawater.

"What the hell was that!?"

"Dumbass!" she cried hugging him close, "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

He stared at her dumbfounded for a minute, then he laughed. After another moment she laughed too. The exhilaration of battle was still flooding their veins.

Flynn chuckled as Frosty blew out a sigh of relief as they hauled the pair out of the water.

"Good job you two," Flynn smiled proudly.

An overwhelming sense of dread filled the ship as all three members if the crew turned to glare at him.

"He-hey guys," he backpedaled, "it was just a test. I had to know! I had full confidence in youuuuu!"

His voice trailed off into a wail as they struck without mercy.

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**The Next Day**

A solid week of training the bounty hunters up into would be pirates turned them into novice sailors. They knew more of a lot more than they did, Stratus more than Iris, but only experience would shore up their skills now. Frosty and Flynn had also spent time polishing the duo's fighting skills. The fishman had trained them well, and they had thrived under his care.

"Land ho!" Stratus bellowed from the crow's nest.

Iris and Stratus shared a smile and peered over the rail at the green speck of land a mile into the distance. That was where their pirate adventure began, and for another to continue. Frosty and Flynn exchanged looks with a nod. They were as ready as they were gonna be.

"Curry Island," Flynn said rubbing the numerous lumps and bruises on his head, " an island famous for it's cooking and recipes as well as it's shops catering to ships looking to stock up. Normally three days west from cherry island, but with the seaking attack and the training well..." he trailed off.

"You're not a navigator. How the hell did you know all that?" Frosty asked.

"I do listen when you talk."

Frosty shot him a look.

"Okay sometimes."

Iris hopped down from the rigging, "But what could we possibly need? This ship is too small for a long voyage at sea."

"We'd need a bigger ship than this little tugboat," Stratus called down.

"I'll take care of it," Flynn said decisively, "First thing we do is find a bar-"

"I'm in," Stratus said immediately and Iris snickered.

"Why am I not surprised?" Frosty chuckled

Flynn rolled his eyes, "It's a bit of tradition from our old crew. Captain Blacktide," the captain and first mate shivered at the name, which made the lookout and rope worker glance at each other, "was a heavy believer in the work hard play hard lifestyle. So the first thing we do after a sea voyage or a major battle is unwind with a crew meeting in the first bar we find. Once we get there we'll go over how we're going to acquire a bigger ship."

"I take it acquire means steal?" Frosty asked from his place at the aft of the ship near the wheel.

"Maybe, but don't cause trouble if we don't have to."

"What's this island like anyway?" Iris asked.

The bustling port city came into view, and Flynn kept his eyes peeled for the dock master. There were a few others gliding in port alongside them, but their junk ship was small enough to avoid the bigger ships.

"Curry Island's largest port city is Nikomu City. There's a small marine base here that keeps the peace alongside the local militia. This island is on an important route to be sure, but most people simply go onto Loguetown for a better selection. However, people in a bind like us, usually stop here because it's cheaper and their stock of cooking supplies is much larger."

"Hello there!" a friendly voice called.

Flynn turned to see a rotund, bespectacled man in a rowboat sidling up to them.

"Name's John, are you here to dock or just passing through?" he laughed, "sorry little dock master humor. Thing's tend to get a little boring with few ships inbound. We got to entertain ourselves somehow."

"I would imagine," Flynn called, "how much to dock?"

"We're actually having a special today. Only fifty berries. If you'll follow me to dock fourteen we can get you set up with the proper papers."

"That will be fine," Flynn said tossing him a sack full of berri coins, "dock fifty you said?"

He motioned for Frosty to guide them there. John opened his mouth to protest that he should lead them, but thought twice when he looked into the bag of coins.

"Yes sir, seems I'll be tied up at the back all afternoon," he grinned widely, "I trust you know your way," it wasn't a question. He took off like a shot toward the shore, rowing as fast as his pudgy arms would carry him.

"He seemed awful quick to change his mind," Iris frowned.

"In my experience people tend to look the other way a lot when you pay them to. Everyone has a price, whether it be berries or something less substantial," Flynn advised while looking pointedly at her, "freedom and adventure perhaps?"

She pointedly looked away.

"How much did he cost?"

"One fifty and that included the docking fee," he snorted.

Stratus' jaw dropped, "That much?"

Frosty and Flynn shared a look, then laughed.

Iris, who shared her partner's ire, spoke up, "We can make that in a week and you throw it around like it means so little?"

The laughter subsided, but only a little.

"When you fully embrace the pirate life, you'll understand. What I just gave that man, was less than chump change compared to some of the hauls we've raked in under Captain Blacktide."

The veteran pirates shivered.

"Hell what we're worth is more than what most little town's see in ten years or more!" Frosty declared proudly, "and we're just getting started. Someday, it'll be the same for you."

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Nikomu City spread out before them on a rising hill. The docks, obviously, were at the bottom closer to the shore where the dock workers hailed the incoming sailors and led them safely into the city. Above that were the short, squat buildings of the shopping district which catered to everything from arms to supplies. Everyone, young and old, noble or beggar, pirate of marine, came through here to enter the Island of Curry. Most entered without complaint, but those that made a scene were quickly taken away by the militia and marines.

Past that was the residential district which, like the shopping district, it's building rarely were more than a story tall. In fact, were it not for the shopping being the more colorful of the two, one would be hard pressed to tell them apart. There were a few who sold gaudy baubles at high prices to tourists, but most people here were merely trying to make a living and sold items of good quality to those looking to buy.

The diamond district, as it was so ostentatiously called, towered above it all as the so called "crown jewel" of Curry Island. Most of the rich and privileged looked down their long noses at those they considered beneath them. It was no surprise that all of the best chefs and best shops were located there. The former feeding overfed, self proclaimed nobles gourmet meals for even the most mundane of occasions. Unscrupulous shopkeepers sold them high quality goods for outrageous prices that they bragged about being able to afford.

"This place is enormous," Iris remarked.

"Stick with us, and the we'll show you sight's like you've never dreamed," Frosty promised.

Captain and crew walked beside one another down the streets of the shopping district toward the residential district. According to their navigator the closest bar should be right between the two, or so he figured.

There were a few people who stared at them openly, but most just offered them a passing glance and went about their business.

Iris pulled up the hood of her shirt, while Stratus kept his hand uncomfortably close to the hilt of his sword. By the time they were halfway down the street people were gawking at them and militiamen were glaring distrustfully.

Frosty slapped Stratus' hand away from his blade while Flynn flipped down his partner's hood.

"If you act conspicuous you'll be conspicuous," Frosty reminded them.

"So act natural," Flynn advised.

After that bit of advice things soon went back to normal for the townsfolk.

Eventually they found a bar, which was tucked neatly in between the two districts and aptly named "A Rock and a Hard Place." The outside was made of a polished brown wood and the sign depicted a man happily chugging from a mug as he held a boulder at bay with one hand while leaning against a wall.

They walked into a well lit room with few patrons at this time of day. The strong scent of cooking food and alcohol wafted over them as they sat on sturdy looking, yet comfortable chairs around a low table. Pictures of patrons and previous owners lined the entire wall behind the bar, with the shelves stocked with bottles below that. To the left was another bar near an open kitchen where hungry customers placed their orders. A surprisingly well muscled man greeted then with a friendly wave.

"Welcome to the Rock and a Hard place, today's special is venison steak with spicy potatoes and a glass of ale. My name's Simon. If you need anything be sure to let us know!"

After a quick word they places their orders for four specials, a pitcher of ale, and a pitcher of rum.

"And if you happen to have any South Blue Salazar's I'll have a hefty tip waiting for you," Flynn told the barmaid.

"Right away sir," she inclined her head.

As she left Stratus turned to Flynn and opened his mouth to speak, only to have the older man raise a hand to forestall him, "Hang on a minute kid this is important."

He spent the next few minutes waiting with baited breath. When she returned he'd felt like an eternity had passed.

"Last box in the house sir," she smiled, which only brightened when she saw how big her tip was, "S-sir I can't possibly accept so much!"

He merely waved her off, "I insist, you really pulled my boys out of the fire with these," he patted the cigarillos fondly as she blushed and went to check on there food.

"So what about-" Iris began, but another hand from Flynn stopped her mid-sentence.

"You"ll have to forgive him. Every time he gets a new box he has to go through this little bit of idiocy," Frosty rolled his eyes.

"It's a tradition!" Flynn told him heatedly, "The passing of the old into the new!"

"Did he do this to your last captain?" the younger swordsman asked.

"God no," Frosty laughed, "he'd have been shot in the face...again."

Iris's eyes widened, "He's seems to make being shot a regular habit."

"You can do that with that tekkai of his. At least until the captain found a way to make the bullets sting like hell when they hit him. Anything else though, it would leave a three inch exit wound in."

Stratus and Iris gaped at him.

Flynn ignored them all and opened the box reverently. He passed the combustible under his nose sniffed the rich aroma. Reaching inti his vest pocket he took out his multistrike lighter and flipped it open expertly and lit the tip.

He inhaled deeply and savored the sweet smoke. All was right in the world.

"You done?" Frosty asked.

And the moment was gone.

"I am now killjoy. I ought to have you keelhauled for that."

"Go ahead, throw me over. See how long it takes a fishman to drown."

"...bastard."

Iris coughed sharply, partly to get their attention and partly from the sickeningly sweet smoke, "If we're done _children _I'm sure my partner and I would like to know just what the hell the plan is besides, "pirating,"" she made quotes in the air with her fingers.

"Which we know nothing about," Stratus felt the need to point out.

Flynn sighed and closed his eyes. He took another long pull from his guilty pleasure, and when he opened them again he was every bit the image of a captain.

"First thing's first, is that I'm well aware that you," he pointed at the woman, "are a kuja from Amazon Lily and you," he pointed to Stratus, "Are a Skypiean. Though judging from that tattoo on your arm I'm guessing a Shandian."

They both paled, those were secrets they had only ever shared with each other. Not even Frosty knew where they have come from respectively. Yet this man, whom they had never met had simply stated sat there and spoke as if it was nothing. Iris stroked Greg Jr. nervously while Stratus rubbed the intricate and winding ink on his arm.

"How?" Iris asked.

"Truth is Frosty and I have been to the Grand Line before. What you two are isn;t hard to figure out. Kuja are rare to be sure, uncommon even, but not unheard of. Skypiea is no more than a myth to anyone you'll ask about it, but there are a few pirates on the sea who know the truth. Who've been there."

"You're from the Grand Line?" Stratus asked.

"Spent quite a few years on that wonderful, awful sea," Frosty reminisced, "In fact we were both born there."

The barmaids came with their food, and a momentary lull in conversation followed as they gave their meals the attention they richly deserved. Sailing on dried meat and fruit worked up a hell of an appetite.

"So what happens now?" Stratus asked quietly.

"Nothing." Flynn said simply.

"..Just like that?" Iris said.

"Just like that. I don't care who you were before joining my crew and if I don't care if you don't want to tell me," he smiled at both of them, "I keep an open door policy, so feel free to come talk to me anytime. If you don't feel like talking to me then Frosty will be around too."

"Yep, that me. Navigator, fishman, ship counselor. I'm a regular jack of all trades."

"Master of none though," Flynn smirked.

"I got your ass beat hands down in swordsmanship."

"I got your ass beat hands down in unorthodox swordsmanship."

"Kicking doesn't count."

Iris and Stratus rolled their eyes.

They finished their meals in a comfortable silence, then got back to business.

Stratus took a deep pull from his mug and sighed contentedly. Iris offered the last bit of steak to Greg Jr. and pushed her plate away. Frosty sopped up the last bite of his gravy with the last bite of his biscuit and leaned back smiling. Flynn puffed away on the Salazar and dumped the ashes in he metal tin on the table.

"Alright," Flynn began, "this is the plan for right now. We make a round or two around town and see what we can't learn about the local news. Ships coming in, ships going out. Is there a local shipwright?"

"You're a shipwright aren't you?" Stratus asked.

"Yeah, but a local shipwright has the best news on local ships. Might even have some for sale." Frosty elaborated.

"Oh," he took another sip.

"Then we case the shops, see if they have anything worth buying up once we've got a ship lined out, but only when we've found a ship. Doesn't make much sense to buy anything before we have one."

They all nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Questions?"

"What do we do about the marines?" Iris asked.

"What about a cook?" Frosty said.

Someone laughed loudly across the bar at a bawdy joke and Flynn turned to look before continuing.

"If we get the chance, we find a cook. I won;t have us going down by scurvy. That's just insulting. So let me worry about that for now."

"As for the marines, we ignore em. We don't make a scene and they don't bother us. Frosty and I have been out of the game for four years. To the marines that makes us dead. We didn't have high bounties anyway and you two don't even have bounties."

He took another puff as the barmaid swept past him through the smoke. She was polite enough not to give any sign she'd noticed though.

"But if we do this, and it goes wrong, you will," Frosty said darkly.

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Maybe it won't?" Iris ventured.

"Maybe isn't good enough," Flynn told her, eying both of them, "It's happened a lot to us. You think you have it all lined out, that everything is going to go your way and come up sunshine and daisies, but it doesn't. Thing's can go horribly wrong for the simplest, the stupidest of reasons. That's how I got my bounty," he said quietly.

Stratus was about to ask, but a fierce look from the first mate silenced him.

"Take the next two days as shore leave. Look around, get the local gossip" he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad a berri bills. And split it evenly between the two of them. Their eyes widened at the amount, more than they'd ever seen before.

"Don't think of this as an allowance," Frosty joked, "if you spend it all on useless crap we'll know who we can trust with the money. You don;t want to have to have a chaperone every time you want to make a purchase huh?"

"Because I promise you that your first few will be on bandages, because I'll beat the hell out of whoever waste's my money."

Iris and Stratus laughed. Until they realized he was serious.

"Anything else before we go?" he asked.

They pondered for a moment, surprisingly it was Frosty who spoke up first.

"Why the Gold Rush Pirates?"

"I've been wondering that myself." Stratus piped up.

Iris looked at him expectantly.

"That's easy," Flynn grinned, "We're going to be the richest damned pirates on the high seas. It'll be like we hit the mother load."

There was a raucous cheer from behind them, almost like it was for them specifically.

The barmaid came up to them and smiled, "Is there anything else we can get for you today sir?"

Flynn looked at those before him, his crew, his nakama, then matched the girl's bright smile.

"Nah, I think we're good to go."


	6. Chapter 6

One Piece: The Gold Rush Pirates

Chapter Six: Stepping Out Into the World

**Author's Note: So I've decided for sure that I'm going to update on Fridays now, I say after I missed a couple and am posting on a Thursday. Once I write a bit and take a break for a day or so then come back I can add to the fix and fix my mistakes easier. Sorry for any typos I'm still looking for a proofreader. Hope you're enjoying the story so far. Things are about to get exciting.**

** Also, I apologize for the wait. Please accept this fresh chapter as an apology. I promised myself I wouldn't stop until I felt what I wanted to be told was told.**

**Business District: Stratus and Frosty**

The skypiean and the fishman walked side by side down the bustling streets of Nikomu City. Several people gave them dirty, or mistrustful looks, but not so much as if they went to the Diamond District. The people closer to the docks were used to seeing unusual characters pass through the island, though many of them had never seen a man with wings before. Both pirates ignored them all though and carried on an easy conversation brought on by years of camaraderie.

"So I says to him, that ain't my brother that's my dinner! Koshashasha!"

"Hahehehehe!" Stratus laughed, wiping away a tear, "Come on let's get a bite to eat. I'm freaking starving."

Frosty stopped before a vendor and paid for a basket of fried fish. Stratus grabbed the same watching Frosty with a curious eye.

"Isn't that like cannibalism?" he wondered aloud.

Frosty smacked the back of his head rolling his eyes, "I'm not eating another fishman. I'm eating a fish. There's a difference."

Frankly Stratus didn't see much of one. He didn't eat chicken wings after all. They found a nearby bench and sat down.

"So what do you think of Flynn?" he asked after a few minute's of savoring their food, which was surprisingly good.

"He's a jerk," he said munching particularly hard on a piece of fish.

Frosty laughed, "Let me guess, you're mad because he can fly right?"

"S-shut up! He can't fly! He skips across the air!" he pouted.

"Go ahead, tell him that to his face. I dare you," Frosty grinned showing pointed teeth.

He grumbled and threw the remains of his meal in a nearby trashcan, "Come on. I got some stuff I need to get."

They made their way into a tacky little shop that catered mostly to tourists. Frosty didn't overly complain, for they had visited shop's like this before with his pupil, and if not those then the beaches of Cherry Island. Though, this was the first time in a long time Stratus had to pay for materials, and never outside Cherry Island, so he wanted his mentor along to make sure no shopkeeper tried to screw him over.

They passed the driftwood carvings, the cheap cooking tools passed off as expensive cooking tools, the dried fish which Frosty shot an incredulous look at the young salesman over, until they found what they were looking for toward the back.

The seashells.

They dominated an entire wall spread out among three bookcases entirely to themselves, seashells of every color, size, and shape. From large conch shells to smaller mussel shells. Frosty sighed and leaned back against the wall, this was going to take awhile. He watched his student work with a roll of his eyes. He'd studied the young man once while he incorporated that heat dial into his sword and the flame dial into his pistol. The work was tedious, hand cramping, and time consuming, but the results spoke for themselves.

Didn't keep the great seahorse fishman from being bored out of his skull though. The few times he had tried to help he was met by a snort of derision from the young swordsman.

Stratus was in his element. He looked over the shells with a keen and expert eye. He may not know anything about unscrupulous salesmen, but he knew seashells. Most of these were fake, unusable, but there were one or two that he could make use of. He picked up two small conch shells no bigger than his palm and one whole clam shell. These were the best he could find without scouring the beach. He turned to Frosty with a nod and they headed toward the too cheerful shop keeper.

"Hey guys, name's Joe. Will this be all for you?" he wrapped their gifts.

"Yeah," Stratus said gruffly.

"Can I interest you in anything else?" he smiled with too white teeth and reached under the counter, producing a dried and expanded blowfish.

Frosty recoiled from the sight.

"Buy me, buy me," he blubbered in a watery voice.

"Hell no," Frosty snapped.

"Aww," he pouted reaching under the counter again and produced an object of pure and utter horror. The great beast stared at the fishman with dead black eyes and desiccated lips. The curves of it's tail were stiff and lifeless.

Worst of all, the purveyor of horrors made her dance in front of him taking on a sultry voice.

"Hey big boy, why don't you come over here and see me?" he wiggled and wobbled her in front of him.

Frosty shrieked like a banshee and immediately punched the boy out. Stratus watched open mouthed as the boy crumpled like a sack of bricks.

Stratus, blushing fiercely, threw some money on the table with a quick apology and followed the fishman out through the shattered door.

The younger swordsman found the elder leaning heavily against a wall, gulping in deep lungfuls of air, and shivering uncontrollably. He turned and regarded Stratus with wild eyes.

"Seriously? Again?" this had evidently happened before.

"Shut up chicken boy!" he snapped, "you don't know what it's like having the threat of those man hungry witches hanging over your head every day!"

Stratus rolled his eyes, offering little sympathy, "Yeah, but you figure you would be afraid of seahorse fishwomen not female seahorses. For the sake of the sea Frosty you could eat something that small!"

Frosty gagged violently, fixing his student with a murderous glare.

"You bite your tongue," he snarled, "the thought of one of those...**_things _**inside me," he jumped up thrusting his finger in the birdman's face, "You're not the one who gets pregnant out of the deal! I ain't ready to quit adventuring and settle down! You go to hell! You go to hell and you die!"

Stratus sighed, it was going to be one of those days.

**Business District: Iris**

Iris beat a leisurely path through the shopping district with no real destination in mind. Greg Jr. coiled sleepily around her shoulders like a scarf. The colors and scents of the stalls assaulted her to an annoying degree, and she passed one loud mouthed vendor after another. For the few that met her eyes with a quiet nod and a kind smile she took a few minutes to browse their wares and make small talk. Those that shouted at her or stared lewdly at her manner of dress she ignored completely. She came away with a few small purchases, but still had most of her coin to show for it. She set a simple gold bracelet around her right wrist and slipped a pair of gold hoops on her ears. A kindly old man offered her samples from his stall, and she happily munched on a couple of meatpies for lunch.

This was the first time she had money to blow in awhile so she planned to enjoy herself at least a little. Despite popular rumor to the contrary, kuja were rarely indulgent creatures.

The warrior maiden paused suddenly on the sidewalk, several people passed her and noted a strange mixture of anger and sorrow crossed her delicate features. After a minute or two she sighed, shook off the negative feelings and continued on her way.

The dark look of triumph in her Empress's eyes. The condemnation and, damn it, outright sympathy in her fellow warrior's eyes. Every wave and dip and bob on that hellishly calm sea. The hungry eyes of the giant sea kings and the staring eyes of men with loose morals and women with jealous hearts. She shuddered, suddenly sick.

In Amazon Lily, strength equated to beauty no matter how you looked physically. Iris trained from birth in the ways of haki enhanced archery, rather than bo staff techniques or spear fighting until eventually she secured her place on a pirate crew. Her choice to focus purely on her snake bow normally meant she would passed over in favor of more well rounded kuja. Iris's skill spoke for itself when she was picked over those same warriors who used to mock her for the pirate crew of the Empress herself. However, a certain incident took all of that away from her, and she found herself stranded in the middle of the harshest sea in the world. Then stranded in a strange and unfamiliar land.

She caught the eyes of several of the local men much to her exasperation and the irritation of their wives, who looked at her snake as if they'd never seen one before. Iris ignored them outright, causing more than a few to take advantage of her "inattentiveness" and stare at her slender curves, which the wrapped in a simple loin cloth around her waist and brassier of the same material, left little to the imagination. More than a few men went home that day sporting fresh bruises and enjoyed a miserable night on their couches.

A few men broke away from the throng, and started trailing her. The looks on their faces told her everything she needed to know about their intentions.

Good, she needed a stress reliever about now.

She walked a few more blocks pretending not to notice. She smiled and laughed and seemed oblivious to the world as she bought one or two more trinkets to keep up appearances and seemed to the world like a woman oblivious to the world, admittedly an under dressed one. Though she would take care of that soon enough.

Iris turned down a small alley and hesitated, doing her best to look like a lost, timid tourist. The alley was settled between two close buildings and the sun didn't reach in here except at high noon. She smiled as she walked deeper down. She noticed the adjacent alleyway before the foul smelling idiot walked out to block her path with a leer.

That's what she'd call him. Idiot. As for his friends, she mentally counted them off, Smelly, Hairy, and Fatty. Perfect, she hated beating up nameless thugs almost as much as being underestimated. Unfortunately for this quartet, they fell into both categories.

Playing her part to a "T" she look at him in fright and turned back the way she came only to find the three thugs who had been tailing her now blocking her path. She made to look frozen in shock as Greg Jr. remained motionless like a tacky scarf.

"A-are you here to help me?" she asked hopefully, "I'm lost," she whimpered as they drew closer.

"Oh yea darlin'," the lone man behind her, probably the leader, sneered, "but ain't nothin in this town for free. What say you to a little you scratch our backs and we might scratch yours?"

He grinned at his fellows, who chuckled appreciatively.

Iris grinned in return, albeit in a much chillier fashion.

"I think four little mice have run afoul of a cobra," she sneered and cast out her arm as the snake launched itself off the limb and sink his fang's into the idiot's face.

As he fell back howling in agony the warrior had already started moving. A swift roundhouse behind her incapacitated the second man coming for her back. He fell as his nose crunched painfully against the sole of her boot. To his credit he was back up almost immediately, his eyes burning with rage.

Hairy and Smelly came for her simultaneously as Fatty looked for a chance to strike at her back. Hairy leapt forward with a telegraphed blow that she easily ducked under. She turned and caught a kick from Smelly on her arm and punched him squarely in the jaw knocking him cold. Fatty charged attempting to tackle her to the ground she jumped clear over him and kicked at the back of his knee as she landed, sending him skidding painfully across the ground and into a pile of garbage. Hairy brought both of his fists down to crush her, having gotten behind her while she was dealing with the other two. He would have been much more effective had he not roared triumphantly as he struck.

Not that she was going to give him pointers. What she would tell him though...

"Armor Haki! Punishment of the Valkyrie!" she brought her ebon arm up and caught the much larger man's fists on her forearm. He suffered a moment of shock before her fist plowed into his chest. Something broke, it wasn't Iris. Hand to hand may not have been her forte, but she wasn't a slouch at it either.

He went down, screaming in agony, until a well placed kick silenced him.

Fatty ponderously rose from the trash and peered at her through a rotted banana peel. Then immediately took off running.

The fight was decided in a matter of moments, a fact that surprised her a little. Guess that training with Frosty had paid off more than she realized.

Last but not least, was Idiot. She snapped her fingers and Greg Jr. released the man from his jaws. She picked him up by the scruff of his neck and peered into his beady black eyes. What she saw did not impress her. What he saw was a predator.

"Made a mistake didn't you?" she smirked.

"Y-yes ma-maam," he sniveled.

"You want to live through this don't you?" she asked in a bored tone.

He nodded vigorously.

Her grin widened to cheshire cat like proportions. She was a pirate, so she might as well start acting like one.

"Then give me all the money you got. Empty your friend's pockets too."

**The Harbor: Flynn.**

The Ship Shape Shipshop was located a few minutes from the docks. Half of the building was set right on the open water and featured a large pair of double doors on one end to allow damages ships to sail into, or in some cases be towed into, the warehouse proper, which took up several blocks. The building itself was three stories tall to allow for small skimmers or great galeons to fit easily inside. Sometimes one or two at a time, there was no short of room or workers.

The captain of the Gold Rush pirates walked into the shipwright's office with a considerable spring in his step. The ship master's office was open to all, and had no door, in fact it didn't even have a front wall. Supposedly so he could get outside quicker or keep an eye his workers. He smiled widely, deep in his element now, and noticed several men turned to look at him. Their muscled were honed by years of back breaking labor and their skin tanned from the sun. Many of them sparred him a passing glance as they hefted their tools and got back to work. They scoffed and went back to their individual projects thinking him nothing more than a clueless tourist.

A bored young woman greeted him with a yawn, "Can I help you sir?"

"The ship master if you please."

She perked up a little forgetting herself, "What do you need to see Uncle Mike for?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Mikey O'Riley and I have business. He's an old friend."

She flushed and reached for the den den mushi. A few moments later a stocky, middle aged man with a salt and pepper goatee walked out from the back office. The man walked with a slight limp and his left arm was entirely mechanical. He wore a pair of overalls with varies tools of the trade tucked into the pockets and belts. He stared him down, or rather up due to his shorter stature, sizing him up like all the others. Then his face broke into a wide grin.

He snorted and spoke with a lilt, "Ye dahn't look like mooch of a shipwright."

"Neither do you," Flynn grunted back.

"Ye're too scrawny."

"You're too short."

"Ye're a doombass!" He roared at Flynn with a grin.

"Oh yeah! Well you're a skinflint!"

By now four of the closest burly workers crowded around him cracking their knuckles and glaring balefully. You didn't call a shipwright a skinflint, especially if it was true. One hefted a sledgehammer, another grabbed a saw, and two others bared their fists. Flynn didn't even flinch.

Suddenly the captain and the ship master burst out into raucous laughter, much to the confusion of everyone else.

"Mikey O'Riley how the hell are you?" Flynn was still grinning.

"Oi! Thats Mikey O'Riley o' da Ship Shape Shipshop! Ware we keep yer ship and yerself in ship shape dontcha know! Ya got to say the while tihtal or you don't get the fall impact! And I'm old and beset by idiat tourists ahnd half competent warkers," he turned, "speakin' of get back to work the lot of ye!"

They grumbled and went back to their projects as Mike led Flynn over to a comfortable looking chair. He poured them both a mug of strong coffee that he always seemed to keep on hand and sipped it contentedly.

"Ahhh now dat's the stoof. What brings ye to dis corner of the sea lad? I taught you were in the Grand Line wit young Zeal?"

Flynn shuddered visibly which made the older man laugh to no end.

"Bwahahaha! Yer old cap'n still has dat effect on ya huh?"

"Shut up Mikey you know what it was like serving on that ship!"

Mikey stopped short, he began to shudder as well.

"Don't remind me. The cap'n still keepin that ship well since I left?"

"Far as I know," he shrugged, "Me and Frosty left shortly after you did. Though for different reasons."

"The cap'n still sore at me...?" the stout man asked hesitantly.

"Nah, when we left you were all but forgotten. It was always understood why you left anyway. We all agreed it was right, time even."

"Wasn't cuss I was wasn't happy," he said quickly, " Far froom it. It was just time to go. Places to go dreams tah realize," he shrugged.

Flynn nodded, "Yeah, I needed to be out on my own as well. Thank god Frosty agreed to come along too or I;d have been sunk my first day out! Shakyakyakya!" he laughed

"Bwahahahaha!" Mikey slapped the table with an open palm.

They both shared an easy silence. The office wasn't sparse in any sense of the word, it was cluttered without being messy, with various doodads, blueprints, and work orders scattered about. There were even a few pictures of the old crew and the shipwrights Mikey worked with scattered around. Flynn has no doubt that Mike kept that devastating arm of his in top condition, the man before him hadn't let his body go to pot after his retirement from piracy after all. Behind the desk, etched into the back wall with a wood burning tool, was a small symbol. A skull flanked by two pistols and three bullet holed in the forehead. The same symbol Flynn had tattooed on his right arm.

The symbol of the Black Bullet Pirates.

"Ye didn't answer me question," he was told suddenly.

Flynn shook off the nostalgia with a smile, and leaned forward while steepling his fingers above the oaken desk.

"Truth be told my friend, I'm looking for information."

"Oho? Of what sort?"

Flynn smiled, "I find myself in need of a ship. The sea skipper-"

"You still have that old junk ship!?" he cried, "I built dat when I was first starting out wit you lot. It was barly sea worthy then!"

"I had a good teacher," Flynn said merrily.

Mikey snorted.

"One more thing, if yo don't mind?"

"Yea?" Mikey raised an eyebrow.

"What do you know about Thunderfist Cortez?"

**Nikomu City: A Few Hours later...**

"Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"Why yes," Stratus said smoothly, "I'm sure a beautiful young thing like yourself hears all kind of things working in a busy shop like this."

She giggled and nodded as a faint blush dusted her cheeks, "Sometimes more than I care to know," she admitted.

"Hahehehe," he laughed pleasantly, "I hear that. I'm a bounty hunter myself. You wouldn't believe how many pirates bawl and howl as the marines come to take em away."

"Oh I can imagine. We used to have a bad pirate problem around here."

"Is that a fact?"

"Oh yes, because we're so close to the Grand Line they would often come here over Loguetown and cause all kinds of problems for the locals."

He nodded making a mental note, "What changed?"

She clasped her hands as her eyes got starry, she looked the spitting image of a fangirl set completely in her idol's camp, "Marine Captain Black D. Cortez."

Stratus immediately hated the man, and so he spoke before his mind caught up with his lips.

"Sounds like a prick."

She narrowed her eyes at him in anger, "I'm think you not to refer to the savior of Nikomu City, nay, this whole island like that. Not please leave," she huffed and waved him away.

Stratus grunted and paid for his purchases. The young woman frowned disapprovingly at his lack of manners as she double checked the bills as he left.

"Still got a way with women I see," Frosty smirked.

Stratus jumped, nearly dropping the bag of his old clothes and whirled around to see the six foot plus great seahorse fishman.

"Where have you been," he paused and blinked at the assault of color, "and what the hell are you wearing?"

Frosty looked down and fingered the fabric of his islander shirt. Solid red with bright yellow coconuts scattered through out with a smattering if green palm trees. His pants were a slightly less blinding shade of blue and covered in pockets. He topped it all off with a newsboy cap and a pair of rounded sunglasses.

"What look are you trying to pull off? Blinding vacational?"

"Koshashasha," Frosty rumbled out a laugh, "I could ask you the same thing!"

Stratus kept his long trench coat with the holes for his wings, but also picked up an angular pair of shades, apples don't fall far from the tree apparently. He picked up a dark crimson shirt with the word "bad" printed on the front. He wore a pair of dark pants over a pair of sturdy boots with hard soles.

"What's wrong with this look?" he asked indignantly.

"You look like a cross between a biker and a cowboy!"

"Like you know anything about fashion you overgrown sardine! Hahehehehehe!"

Several people stopped to look at the pair and shook their heads in both amusement and disgust.

"You both look like idiots," a wry feminine voice announced.

They turned to look at Iris as she approached. She apparently had also been shopping, the Kuja now wore a pair of comfortable brown sandals that wrapped halfway up her shins. She had managed to pick up stiff leather kilt that had been cut into strips for better range of movement. She also wore a light leather breastplate complete with bracers, and Greg Jr. coiled around her waist to rest his head on her shoulder. The cougar skull helmet, with which the snake carried with so much pride, was polished to a gleaming alabaster. Deep gouges from a professional tool scored their way across the pale bone in intricate designs.

"Am I the only one who thought to buy _armor _instead of clothes? You two look like you're ready to go to an alternative bar instead of battle," she smirked.

"Hey! Keep us out of your sick fantasies!" Stratus cried.

The fishman rolled his eyes and slapped Stratus in the back of the head. Stratus opened his mouth again, but Frosty cut him off with another blow.

"I don't even want to know."

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" he rubbed the pained area.

"Because, as usual, you let your lust do the thinking for you? Managing to get very little information from a potential source?"

It was a testament to the partners bond that she cut right to the heart of the problem, despite having only just arrived.

"Correct," Frosty smacked her too.

"What the hell!" she cried.

"That's for being snarky," he chided, "Now step back and watch how a real pirate gathers information."

He disappeared into the store, leaving his pupils to rub their aching heads.

"Least there's one thing we can count on. Frosty will always be Frosty even if he ain't in charge anymore," Stratus mused.

"Speaking of, what do you think of the new boss?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"Hate him."

"Mosusususu," she giggled, "Is that because he's higher than you on the command chain, beat your ass when you first stepped onto the ship, or that you're not the only one who can fly now?" she teased.

"He' doesn't fly!" he shouted indignantly, "he skips across the air like some kind of flying jackrabbit!"

He shut his mouth instantly realizing his error.

Iris said not a word, but it was obvious she wouldn't be letting him forget that slip up.

He wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

Frosty stepped out a few minutes later looking pleased with himself.

"Well?" Stratus grumbled.

"Well Black D. Cortez is originally from the Grand Line, he lost both his arms in an accident when he was a lieutenant, but due to his family being connected to Vegapunk he got himself a pair of genuine cybernetic replacements capable of generating powerful currents of lightning. Hence his endearing nickname Thunderfist Cortez. Thankfully he's away at Loguetown on an inspection at the moment, but his Lieutenant Commander, who also happens to be his brother, is in charge until he returns. Black D. Juarez, who is something of a prodigy with pistols, specifically Blacktide Dragoons. Which is ironic come to think of it," he murmurred.

He paused to let that sink in. Iris looked pale and Stratus shifted uncomfortably.

"Also, "Frosty smiled and held up a small slip of paper, "I got her den den mushi number," he bowed," and that children is how you do it."

He bowed low as Iris laughed while Stratus stared at him open mouthed.

"How the hell did you pull that off!?"

"Mighty fishman secret," he winked.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

**A Rock and a Hard Place Bar**

The whole crew sat around their usual table as the sun began to set on Nikomu City. They had become quite friendly with the staff during their stay there. Which was no surprise, they paid well, on time, and didn't cause too much of a ruckus. The housekeepers also noticed that they kept their rooms as tidy as when they first arrived. With the exception of Stratus of course, the less said about his room the better.

The barmaid, Milda, visited them with a smile and their orders before they had even placed them. Stratus and Iris both received steak and potatoes. Frosty a basket of breaded fish and a loaf of bread. Flynn a fresh pack of Salazar's and the soup of the day.

"I tell you, nothing beats chili and smokes," he lit a new cigarillo with a spoonful of the meaty soup.

Frosty rolled his eyes and spoke up first, "What did you learn from Mikey?"

Flynn sighed inhaling a deep pull and swallowing the morsel, "Must you ruin everything I cherish? He says hi by the way."

"Doing well I imagine?" Frosty asked between bites of fish.

"Very, has his own shop and everything. Same old guy though, barely understand a word he says he talks to damned fast."

They shared a laugh at some inside joke, much to the irritation of the former hunters.

"Much as I hate to admit, you are right though," Flynn spoke, "Alright, down to business. What does everyone have to bring to the table," he gestured to Iris with his spoon, "Ladies first."

She coughed to clear her throat, "I'm afraid I haven't learned much. Far as I can tell the marine base has about a hundred men at the ready to defend the island from attacks. Coupled with the militia of volunteers from the city proper that makes a full fighting force of around two hundred. The marines at least are well trained, but the locals are no slackers when it comes to hard work. In fact several of them were approached by the marines to join because of their skills."

Flynn nodded and motioned for her to sit before turning to Stratus.

"Well, I know that two of the four ships they use to patrol with are out at the moment supposedly escorting a third ship to the island. They're keeping it all under wraps so I don;t know much more than that. Some say it's a criminal exchange, others say fresh recruits," he shrugged apologetically before sitting down.

Frosty stretched and spoke next as he pushed his cleaned plate away, "Learned a lot about the local captain and apparently one of the rare few to actually be a credit to his title. Not just an overblown jackass. He's bad news Flynn and I for one am glad he's away at the moment. A guy like that could give us some real trouble with his lightning abilities. His brother is no better, but easier to deal with. Captain Black is currently an inspection in Loguetown and isn't expected back for another two weeks. So that's something at least."

Flynn nodded and absorbed all of this information. He settled back into his chair and produced a manilla envelope laying it on the table. He opened it and began to read.

"According to marine records the two ships out to see at the moment are The Shield and The Sword. The Shield is a heavy interceptor reinforced with steel plating and spikes along the railing, making it very resistant to both cannon fire and borders. The Sword is a light interceptor that specializes in hit and run tactics. It's equipped with a wide variety of weaponry as well as a new rail system for easier maneuvering of the on board cannons. They're escorting the Titan, a ship built with the best of the best of both and carrying a massive treasure hoard from the pirates it's run across. They'll be making the drop in three days time."

They stared at him in silence.

"How did you-?" Frosty asked.

"As it turns out Mikey built all three. I aim to steal one of them."

"Wait," Iris spoke as the voice of reason, "You;re going to assault a marine base and steal a ship right under their noses?"

"No, we're going to assault the dock as they pull in and steal it from under their noses," he said simply.

"I'm in," Stratus said immediately as Iris blanched, "Come on!" he told her excitedly, "think of the loot!"

Her attitude pulled a reversal after that.

"How the hell are we going to pull this off?" Frosty asked.

The grin on Flynn's face could have lit up the night sky.

"Listen closely my friends, your captain has a plan."

The crew of the Gold Rush Pirates were unanimous on three things.

One was that it was the most reckless thing they had ever heard.

Two, it was also the stupidest thing they had ever heard.

Three, it just might work.


	7. Chapter 7

**One Piece: The Gold Rush Pirates**

**Chapter Seven: Decisions of the Longarmed and Dangerous**

**Author's Note: Hello readers, I apologize for the hiatus but life has a nasty habit of getting in the way of hobbies. I've also just discovered wow so that takes up a lot of my time I'm sorry to say. I will try to stick to a schedule from now on.**

** I will admit I'm not good at introspection pieces, but I'm practicing the art. So if this next bit isn't up to some of your usual standards I apologize.**

**I'll just...get on with it now then.**

**Tor'yyg is another character created for out weekly D&D sessions, Played by the same guy who plays Stratus. Hope you enjoy him as much as we do.**

** Also, for reasons I'm not quite sure of, I put in a slight family guy reference. See if you can spot it.**

**P.S. I don't own One Piece, just my own characters.**

**Nikomu City: Diamond District**

Stratus sighed deeply and wondered, not for the first time nor the last, how in the hell he had gotten mixed up with such an insane crew.

His part in the plan was fairly simple, but it put him directly in the line of fire. As usual he was the first to brag about how many marines he was going to take out, right up until they told him how many marines there were, and that he would be directly in the line of fire and under the scrutinizing eyes of Lieutenant Juarez D. Black himself.

Stratus understandably took exception to that. Had he mentioned yet that he would be in directly line of sight to about a dozen well trained marines and their lieutenant with a penchant for ruthlessness against pirates?

After twenty minutes of begging and cajoling he was offered a barrel of grog and a running tap in his room, but only if it was shut off during the day Stratus countered with ten barrels of rum and a unlimited access to the tap. Once the swelling from the lumps on his head had gone down he'd settled for three barrels of rum and access to the tap on his off duty hours only. Flynn threatened him severely, replacing his alcohol with water a cardinal sin in the young swordsman's eyes, if he was caught drinking on the job.

So now he grumbled and groused as he strode through the Diamond District in search of a food cart, a chef's uniform, enough food to feed dozens of sailors fresh on shore leave.

"Catch us some fish Stratus, wake up Stratus, stop ogling that barmaid Stratus," he muttered.

Why he got stuck with the crap jobs he never knew.

**(:::::)**

Fishmen are widely believed to be the most discriminated against races in the world. The problem is more pronounced in the four blues, where people have never seen humanoids of the watery race before. Though the problem also persists in the Grand Line itself, where humans are far more likely to have seen or even dealt with fishfolk as part of their daily routines. Many oceanic humanoids found themselves victims of price gouging, theft, and even violence. Rarely were they treated fairly or with kindness. Most preferred to ignore them completely if they did anything at all. One other race has the dubious claim to fame of being almost as prejudiced against as the fishmen.

Perhaps it was due to their gangly limbs or strange style of dress. One also couldn't ignore their barbaric practices of slavery, kidnapping, and extortion. There were also the unsavory and downright derogatory rumors many of the more learned, in their own eyes anyway, races spread about them. Whatever the reason was it didn't matter to one particular specimen right now, all he knew was that this was the fifth job this week he'd lost because of his heritage.

Tor'yyg Navoo brought his massive hammer down in one swift stroke and splintered the table he was sitting at a moment before. The thin, weedy excuse for a man tried to get out of the way of his wrath, only to trip and land on his backside with a yelp of both pain and fear. The two bodyguards behind him exchanged a glance, each hoping the other would go first if the applicant went much farther.

"What do you mean I'm denied!?" Tor'yyg roared.

"Th-that's self explanatory," Mr. Evans squeaked in a rare moment of bravery, "You're too hot headed, prone to vi-violence, impulsive, and a lo-"

Tor'yyg's left arm snaked out from his billowing sleeve and snatched the man up off the floor to pull him the full six foot length of the room. His bodyguards stepped forth to do their jobs, but a sharp look from the warrior made them reconsider their course of action.

"Go on," he growled low in his throat, "finish your sentence."

Stephen Evans looked into those dark brown eyes set in that angular face locked in the beginnings of a snarl. His brown hair was elaborately braided in a tight topknot that ran down his back and partially hidden under a simple black chef's hat stamped with the symbol for delicious. He wore a loose red tunic under a gray chef's apron and loose black pants. He mustered what courage, or foolishness, he had left and stared down his long nose.

"A," Tor'yyg clenched his fist in a clear threat and simultaneously cutting off the weedy man's flow of air, "stand up guy with a glowing personality, but we're just not accepting applicants for a chef for House Evans right now," he squeaked with a weak chuckle.

"That's what I thought," he finished with a sneer, dropping him back on his butt with a heavy thud..

He stormed out through the gilded double doors daring anyone to approach as he stalked across the expansive yard amidst the yell's that "head's would roll for letting the freak in."

Tor'yyg didn't wait for the wrought iron gates to open before he drew back his hammer and slammed it against the brick wall encompassing the expansive estate with a resounding crack. Once, twice, on the third strike the wall collapsed outward in a shower of metal reinforcement and brick dust. He took no small amount of pleasure in the shrieks that ensued from the mansion.

With a considerably lighter step he strode through his makeshift door with a salute of his hammer to the stunned gatekeeper.

Tor'yyg Navoo hated this goddamned town, with all it's pompous, prejudiced idiots. The posh white buildings of the Diamond District seemed to mock him with their unapproachable faces. The click of his heels on the paved and swept sidewalk sounded like mocking laughter to his ears. The cloying scent of flowers assaulted him. He walked down the street among the stares and whispers and, often undisguised, hatred and weathered it all stoically. The marines were even less helpful, prone to taking hm in for questioning under the suspicion of pirate activity. Which was a fancy way of saying that when any new pirate group was even rumored in the area, he was the first and only one called in to make sure he wasn't affiliated with them in any way. The only outward sign on his distaste was the white knuckled grip he kept on the metallic hilt of his steel hammer.

Five years ago he washed up on this town after willingly separating from his tribe and remaining family save for his brother. Even among his kin he has a fierce reputation for a surly demeanor and was too quick to settle an argument with fists rather than words. Better that he left on his own accord, before they were forced to exile him. Tor'yyg spent weeks on the sea in the company of his brother and closest companion. In all the world it seemed as if Devo Navoo was the only one who could brave the storm of his temper and come out on top, unscathed even.

One day after a particularly brutal fight that left Tor'yyg a broken mess, bedridden for three days, and his brother wholly unharmed, Devo gave him a piece of wisdom that stuck with him to the core of his being.

"I used to be just as angry as you, but then I learned to cook. The searing heat tempered my passions, the meticulous preparation and attention to detail quieted my soul, and the sheer variety of dishes keeps my busy. Because of this I found my nakama. Today, I shall begin passing on my skills to you in hopes you find somewhere that you can be at peace."

One year later Devo left and here he was today. His hopes nearly crushed and his talents wasted by disuse. All because of the hatred and suspicion on the hearts of men.

So much for inner peace.

The only thing that made this town remotely bearable was a small diner/bar run by kindly old couple. They took him in, despite the jeers and protests of the other townsfolk, and gave him a place to stay. A purpose and place to practice his craft. Sure not many would eat food prepared by someone like him and he even offered to hide himself for their sake, but they wouldn't hear of it.

"People would come around eventually or not at all," they said," if they don't then they didn't want such closed minded fools in their restaurant anyway."

That was a month ago, and they had been steadily losing business ever since. It was the main reason he wanted to leave, so that they could prosper again.

Damn this wretched town and it's ugly-

He stopped short and stumbled backwards, which is more than he could say for the shorter man who ran into him. He opened his mouth to offer a rare apology, but was cut off.

"Watch where they hell you're going you blind idiot!" Stratus yelled at him as he stood and dusted himself off.

Tor'yyg tensed visibly.

"Look, I-" he began stiffly.

"What are you doing running down the middle of the street anyways? You the mayor here? You own the street?" his feather's ruffled in agitation.

The chef's last nerve was beginning to fray. His next words were forced through clenched teeth. "If you'll just lis-"

"Ah, look who I'm talking to," Stratus waved a hand and turned away," Just another idiot in a town of idiots."

That did it. The mere notion of being compared to anyone in this godforsaken town sent his last grip on restraint flying away like an umbrella in a hurricane.

The full six feet of his arm shot out like a snake adding to the impact of the hammer as it crashed into the young swordsman's back and bore him into the ground. Stratus rolled, unsheathing his sword and bringing it up instantly to guard against another attack. What he found was the man who was distracted a moment ago absolutely wrathful and prepared to strike him again.

"You have the misfortune to have caught me on an incredibly bad day. I'm frayed to the last raw nerve. My patience is at an all time low and some preening jackass is in my face practically begging me to shuffle him off this mortal coil! So let me tell you what you're going to do. You're going to sheathe that worthless piece of tin you call a sword, step out of my way, and continue on your life devoid of anything resembling taste or pallet before I de-bone you like a chicken!"

Tor'yyg was well beyond livid now, he was fast approaching frothing at the mouth enraged. There was a dangerous tick under his left eye and his face was an ugly shade of purple. Veins stood out in his neck and forehead like pressure valves ready to blow. Several onlookers began to run as fast as they could in the opposite direction of the longarm's intended target.

Unfortunately for everyone involved Stratus had never in his life possessed the twin gifts of good judgment and tact.

"Make me," he sneered.

**(:::::)**

The long-armed bastard struck him like a bat out of hell. The hammer shattered his guard like a dry twig and had enough force left over to send him flying down the street and crumple against an iron fence. All he could do for a moment was lay there as his world exploded in pain and he gasped for air.

Tor'yyg was upon him in an instant.

Stratus rolled away from the mangled remains of the fence just as the hammer fell to pulverize that was left of it into useless scrap.

The winged man stumbled to his feet and brought up his guard again, for whatever good it would do him. He immediately activated the heat dial imbedded in the hilt of his blade. If this guy was going all out so would he.

"What now you long armed bastard!" he crowed.

Tor'yyg watched him carefully, or rather his sword. The chef knew heat almost intimately after many years working a kitchen. The glowing hot blade held no fear for him, after all, seared cuts of meat had better distributed heat.

He snorted in disgust and rushed forward, "Fire does not frighten me little fowl!"

Stratus had to concede two points. First, this bastard was fast. He all but teleported in front of him with ridiculous ease and raised his weapon before he'd even seen the bigger warrior move. Second the bastard was strong. Stratus was no pushover himself, that had long since been beaten out of him by the stronger fishman, but this guy was different. He didn't strike with the restraint the swordsman was used to and didn't seem to follow any set pattern. The longarm tribesman was trying to crush him plain and simple. For every shallow cut he gave the man he was rewarded with a punishing blow from that wicked hammer.

Stratus knew immediately that he was in trouble.

Blow after blow was rained down upon him by that relentless weapon, Stratus backpedaled wildly, trying to find an opening in the offensive man's defense. Nothing came to him. His sword began to crack under the pressure as the sparks began to fly wildly around them. His arm shuddered and began to spasm with each attempt to keep his guard in place. The sound's of a blacksmith's forge rang loudly around them, except Tor'yyg wasn't working them metal into a specific shape. Each strike was precise and with increasing ferocity.

"Your blade will break soon," Tor'yyg informed him grimly.

Stratus couldn't muster the strength to reply, much less disagree.

The next few moments seemed to pass at a quarter of their usual speed. Stratus saw the hammer fall precisely on the widening crack near the hilt of his sword and pass right through. Every hope and dream he had seemed to evaporate before his eyes as the flat of the weapon raced toward his head. He saw a false god laughing at him and the grief of a wise old man. The smiling face of his longtime friend and partner, the fishman whom he admired and respected, and the captain that changed his world forever.

His eyes widened in denial, he couldn't die here, not with so much left to do.

"RANKYAKU!" someone screamed.

Something sliced past his face and slammed into the hammer with a deafening screech. Tor'yyg's hammer missed Stratus's shoulder by mere inches and buried itself all the way up to the shaft in the bricks of the street.

Stratus feel to his knees, utterly spent, and breathed a silent prayer of thanks to that wizened old fool as he passed out.

**(:::::)**

Tor'yyg turned, ripping his hammer out of the ground in one fluid motion, to face the newcomer.

He was a finely dressed man in wearing black pinstriped pants and black boots. He adjusted his light blue vest and dusted off the cuffs of his white, long sleeved shirt as he jumped down from the two story building he had been standing atop. He reached out smoothly and caught the black bowler hat before the wind could blow it away. The look in his eyes was positively murderous, as murderous as Devo's had ever been.

Tor'yyg found that he couldn't entirely suppress a shiver, but fear had never stopped him before. He brought his hammer up in a stance that could quickly attack of defend.

"Let me guess, you're this guy's master huh? Come to avenge his defeat perhaps? What good will that do? Especially if he doesn't have the strength to stand for himself? Better to leave him to live or die by his own merits rather than come to his rescue every time he stumbles," he spat, raising his hammer in defense.

"Nothing, but you do have a point there. Well at least in part," he said, much to the surprise of Tor'yyg Navoo.

"W-what?" he whirled as the man seemed to disappear, materializing right behind the chef. Tor'yyg whirled intending to knock the man aside, but he was already a dozen feet away with the unconscious swordsman in tow.

"Truth is I'm not the kind of man who coddles weakness or encourages foolishness. I let the people on my crew gain strength on their own. However," he held up a finger," If someone should happen to harm a member of my crew, I have a policy to fall upon them like the wrath of an angry god," he smiled pleasantly.

Tor'yyg readied himself for another fight, but the man stopped him short with a piercing look.

"I am merely his captain though, not his master. So, it isn't me you have to worry about."

Tor'yyg froze as he heard the soft rush of air behind him. He whirled just in time to catch the edge of a great sword on the flat of his hammer.

The shock of the blow drove him to his knees and cracked the street around them. The chef roared and tried to push back, but the fishman was stronger.

If the look in the other man's eyes had been murderous, this one's was positively battle crazed. He stared down at his prey with slitted eyes, fully in the throes of the infamous blood rage.

"No one beats on my students but me!' Frosty snarled.

The flat of another great sword slammed into his ribs before Tor'yyg had time to counter. He rolled away and came up with his hammer held high in defense, but his guard was instantly broken by the weight of of that terrible wrath. Tor'yyg was once again driven into the street, but this time with twin cuts on his shoulders to show for it.

He managed to lash out with his long arm and strike the fishman squarely in the chest, he fell back a step with a grunt, but brushed aside the hammer as if it were a mosquito.

"What are you?" Tor'yyg gasped at this stark reminder of Devo.

"Fishman Water Technique; Tsunami Striker!" was his only answer.

The seahorse fishman drew back his arms with one sword over each shoulder. The water vapor in the air condensed and surged around the sharpened metal until it sounded like the roar of a vengeful sea was at the fishman's command and he held a pair of maelstroms in his fists. He lunged forward a step and released twin rivers of slashing water like whips attached to his hands. They snaked across the distance separating the two warriors and descended upon Tor'yyg in an instant.

Far too fast for Tor'yyg to act even if he'd wanted to.

They struck with the ravenous power of starving sharks.

**(:::::)**

Flynn winced as the last of the raindrops from the artificial river splashed down. He hadn't seen Frosty wail on someone that hard since their time in Blacktide's crew. Flynn shook off a chill and raised his hand to get his first mate's attention.

"You alright there champ?"

The first mate didn't speak for a long moment. Instead he took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow sigh. With one fluid motion he sheathed his blades. When he turned away from the swampy scene of carnage his eyes were just beginning to expand away from the slits that indicated a fishman rage.

"I'm fine now cap'n," he said quickly walking away from the downed warrior, "but the marines will be here soon after that last attack. I'm sorry," he looked sheepish.

Flynn waved him off," I've been there before so I won't hold it against you."

"What do we do with him?" Frosty jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

Flynn smiled with a wicked gleam in his eye, "You let me worry about him. Proceed as planned, but you'll have to take care of Stratus's shopping for him. Hopefully he'll be up to speed tomorrow."

"If he isn't?"

"Then we improvise."

They were gone long before the marines arrived at the scene.

**Nikomu City: Business District**

Tor'yyg awoke several hours later in a daze. Every part of his body throbbed or ached, sometimes both, and he had a splitting headache. Instinctively he looked to the right for Devo, for surely it was him who administered this righteous ass beating, and was surprised to find his beat up old dresser across the room. He rose, feeling the rough bandages around his chest and shoulders, and took another look around. A small lantern lit the small, but serviceable, his bed was slightly wobbly because of a broken leg, there was a sliver of light coming from under the door. He sniffed and was greeted by the slight smell of frying food, as well as the soft patter of conversation.

How in the hell did he get home?

He threw the covers off and glanced out the small window, the sun was starting to descend in the sky, so he had been out a few hours at least. He coughed and leaned against the bedpost as his wounds settled into a dull ache. He shook his head slowly, as not to jar his headache and made for he door.

All six of The Black Flag's round tables were all empty, save for one guest talking with the old couple who ran the eatery and sitting at the polished oak bar. He sat comfortably chatting and drinking from a mug full of dark liquid, the good wine, and sharing a laugh with the couple. The older man, Kano, sat beside him drinking the house grog and laughing along with the man. His wife, Kana, was pouring drinks and sharing stories of her own, mostly of her clumsy husband much to his chagrin. Kana waved him over causing the young man to turn around.

The same bastard in the pinstriped pants from the Diamond District.

"Afternoon!" he called loudly between puffs from a pleasantly fragrant cigar, "I was beginning to wonder if I would have to come back tomorrow," he grinned showing off pearly teeth.

Tor'yyg merely scowled.

Kano leaned over and spoke in a stage whisper, "Don't mind him. He's a lot more friendly than he looks. Kana nodded and drafted another glass of grog for their employee.

This did nothing to lessen his mood, but he sat down anyway. Far away from the younger man though.

"Why are you here? Where are all the customers?"

"Chased 'em off, bought the whole place out for the day," he said cheerfully.

"You can't just-" he sputtered.

"He did," Kano nodded, " heck of a lot of berries too, and here I was thinking we should close down early today," he scratched his stubbly chin.

"Like a gift he was," Kana tilted a mug back through painted lips.

Tor'yyg looked at the newcomer with trepidation," Who are you?"

"Flynn Tiberoa, Captain of the Gold Rush Pirates," he held out a hand that was left hanging, "Pleasure's all mine I'm sure..."

"A pirate?" Tor'yyg asked.

"Yup, going on eight years now."

'What are you doing in a place like Nikomu?" he all but spat the word.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Flynn countered over the rim of his glass.

Tor'yyg rose, slapping the mug out of Flynn's hand, 'Don't play games with me sea bandit!" he roared.

The captain held out a hand and snapped his fingers. Kana provided him with a drink and an apologetic shrug as he slid her a substantial amount of berries.

"You'll have to forgive him son, he's had a rough time here." Kano said.

"I can imagine..."

"No, you really can't," Tor'yyg swore.

"You're persecuted because of your race? Mistrusted? Hated? Even feared? People walk across the street to avoid you yet judge you by the lack of opportunities they themselves have denied you? Marines are hounding your every move if they aren't down right abusing your right's as a citizen? No," he said dryly and taking another swig from his fresh glass," A pirate would know nothing about that."

The chef was loathe to admit he had a point there.

'You still haven't told me what you want," he admitted with growing frustration at this off putting man," Or why you're here."

Flynn reached down beside his barstool and brought up Tor'yyg's hammer. He continued on as if he hadn't even hear the other man speak.

"Now this, is a mighty fine weapon. Especially to have held my first mate at bay for as long as it did and not have warped under the stress," he twirled the weapon easily much to Tor'yyg's surprise, a normal man shouldn't have even been able to lift it as much as it weighed.

"Give it back," he demanded and Flynn did.

"I've come to make you an offer. Long story short I want you on my crew."

The silence could be heard around the world.

Kana and Kano exchanged looks, expecting something like this to happen. When the young man had burst in with Tor'yyg over his shoulder like a child they were ready to attack him themselves. Tor'yyg was a godsend around here and they treated him as their own. When some of the other customers began laughing at Tor's fate and offering to finish the job he promptly kicked every single one of them violently out the door.

That's when they knew he was different, even before he paid them a week's worth of wages like money meant nothing to him.

Tor didn't lash out, he didn't shake his head in disbelief or laugh. What came out surprised them all.

" Why? Why me?" he spoke softly.

"Because I need someone like you with me on my crew," he said simply.

"How can I trust you?" he asked in a tone somewhere between an instinctive snarl and a genuine plea.

"You can't," Flynn replied simply, "because you don't know me and aren't sure if you want to know me. All I can ask is that you take a chance, come on an adventure with me and maybe I'll be lucky enough to call you my nakama. I'm not asking you to give your life for a stranger, or even fight though you clearly seem capable. All I'm asking for is someone to fill the position of chef on my pirate ship."

Tor'yyg looked lost for the first time since coming to this restaurant. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off when Flynn Tiberoa rose from his seat and walked toward the door.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, so think on it alright? I've got a very small window of opportunity to fit you into this outfit so take your time, but take it fast okay?" he waved as he fled out the back door.

Strange, he'd looked awfully pale...

Kano looked after him in confusion, and not a moment later the front door burst open and the sound of a dozen booted feet stomped upon the hardwood floor.

"Oh look, the marines are here," Kana explained.

A man in his mid twenties walked in amidst the sea of blue and white cloaked men. He was a head taller than the rest and wore a wide brimmed had to cover his long blonde hair. His brown eyes were set in a rugged and scowling face. Unlike the others he was dressed in a pair of blue jeans, hard soled boots, and a long brown coat. Everyone stood a little straighter as he inspected each of them in turn. His eyes lingered on Tor'yyg Navoo.

"My name is Juarez D. Black, and I'm afraid I have some questions for you about Flynn Tiberoa Mr. Navoo."


End file.

One Piece, Adventure