Unseekers (Portgas D. Ace X OC)

Chapter 5| Days of Passing

1077 Days ago:

What Isabelle loved about the Moby Dick were the spacious storage rooms. Storerooms that hadn't stored anything yet. Situated a level below the watchtowers, she could use the space to build a swing to fly around the room and no one would see or hear. No one would know. As appealing as that sounded, she didn't know how to build a swing. Or any equipment.

So she trained instead, practiced with her devil fruit powers. Aiming Beryl shards, she flung them at the messily painted circle on the wood plank. Not perfect, but it lodged with a smooth slice and didn't chip either. Selling gems could land a handsome amount of money.

And Beryl was a gem but, If only she could have sold the devil fruit, she could have earned more than what she would get for selling her Beryl. A shimmering, grey, useless gem with a hardness of 6 out of 10.

This training ground was not free of her art either. A huge piece of white cloth covered the entirety of the east wall, splattered in a bright, vibrate sunset colors, making the whole room smell like paint.

"Your aim is horrible as always, I see," Oliva's smooth voice echoed across the room. She was leaning against the door frame, arms folded in front of her chest. Her fine burgundy locks were tied in a knot on top of her head, accentuating the sharp edges of her sun-kissed face.

"Thanks for the words of support," Isabelle grumbled, flinging another shard.

"No problem, Kid" Oliva made her way towards the slightly ajar window. She gazed out, lolling against the base of the window.

The silence was filled by the sound of Isabelle flinging shards and the fluttering of the curtain with the breeze.

"Why are men so idiotically stupid, Iz?" Oliva sighed.

Isabelle paused. "I don't...Ohh. I wanted to know, what's going on between you and Pineapple man?"

"Who knows," Oliva was looking out the window as if in a trance.

"So...what's the exit strategy?"

"Our what?"

"Sweet. We're all going to die," Izo laughed humorlessly.

"You're overreacting," Isabelle hummed, peering down from the tower. The ground looked a couple of hundred feet below. Perfect for breaking all the bones in your legs if you fall.

At the distance, a mountain in the shape of a skull stood white and tall, as if mocking them from across the island. Hachinosu, also known as Pirate Paradise, was an island known to be a paradise for pirates, and the island said to be the origin of the Davy Back Fight.

It was a small island with a large skull rock towering over the island. A city covered the island and the inside of the skull is carved into a fortress. It was a lawless land where Pirates gambled, partied and had their shady business done. Pops had gone down to conduct some business with Marco.

Isabelle...had dragged an unwilling 17th division commander, Izo and another unwilling Ace and Oliva to participate in a poker game. They almost won too, until the other pirates snagged their barrel of goods from behind their backs and fled.

"No one steals from the White Beards and gets away with it," Isabelle scanned the city streets.

"Picking a fight with the whole pub ain't the right way to go about it," Oliva shook her head.

"There they are," Ace, who was crouching on the very edge of the tower pointed at the moving figures at the end of the town.

"Izo, Oliva. I trust you to take care of the mess in the pub. Thanks," Isabelle rubbed her hands, crouching beside Ace.

Oliva huffed. "Clean up your own damn mess for once,"

Isabelle winked at the older woman, placing a hand on Ace's shoulder. Ace's eyes widened a fraction like he almost saw what he came next.

"What was in that barrel anyway--" Izo had just begun when Isabelle shoved and herself off the tower.

Ace barely had time to let out a sound when Isabelle formed a transparent Berl slide underneath them, shoving Ace forward and jumping after. They barreled down at a thundering speed.
Isabelle whooped, clutching the boy's shoulder while the said boy spewed profanities that got carried away by the wind, while he tried not to land on his face.

With another slippery arch, they launched into the air and slid slowly toward the ground.

"Seriously, idiot. You're going to get us both killed one day." Ace gasped as Isabelle lowered them down with a calmer slope.

Isabelle tousled her locks and stretched her arms above her head. They had landed on the emptier side of the docks, with the robbers' ship in sight. "Did you have any better ideas?"

"Yeah. I could have started with 'Not flying down a hundred feet tower'" Ace rolled his eyes, dusting off his orange hat. His hair was ruffled, face slightly flushed with adrenaline.

"You liked it didn't you?" Isabelle asked, jogging towards the ship. There were voices coming from that direction, signs of the ship being readied to leave the port. "Your inner Masochist is talking to me,"

"You'll just make a scene, Let me," Ace jogged ahead of her and launched himself onto the ship. A sudden blaze of fire and the smell of charred wood quickly followed. Isabelle took her time climbing the steps toward the ship.

The deck was charred, some groaning and burnt pirates laying on the ground.

Ace quirked her an eyebrow. Ever since that day in the cellar, Ace had been oddly...what was the word? Charismatic? Open? Well, he was certainly easier to talk to.

"Now where are those barrels?" Ace sauntered into one of the hallways.

Isabelle followed. "If you have haven't burned it to the ground,"

They found the barrels but Isabelle didn't find what she was looking for. Instead of the ship's treasure filling the barrels, it was full of scented hard cash. Isabelle leaned her weight against the edge of the barrel, letting out a shaky sigh.

Ace whistled from behind her. "Still not worth jumping off a tower though,"

Isabelle snorted. "This doesn't belong to us. But now it does, I guess,"

"You know what that old man...Pops...said that day?" Ace had perched himself on one of the barrels. He pronounced 'Pops' like it was a foreign word. "He said it didn't matter whose son I was. You people are all messed up, aren't you? And that's coming from a guy who grew up with mountain bandits."

Isabelle snorted "You grew up with bandits?"

"Yep," Ace took out a fistful of cash and rolled them inside his pockets. "My gramps wanted to make a Marine out of me,"

Isabelle made for the deck. "Your dear old gramps wanted to make you a Marine and sent you to grow up with bandits? You became a Pirate. Where does he think it went wrong?"

"When he asked me to be a Marine?"

Isabelle climbed up to the deck and approached a Pirate that was trying to get up. He coughed and rubbed his eyes to get rid of the smoke. Isabelle crouched next to him. "Okay, man. Tell me what I ask and that'll be easier for both of us. Got it?"

The man squinted but didn't reply. Isabelle caught hold of his collar and hoisted him up.

"Where are the Barrels you stole from our ship?"

"They didn't say their name," The Pirate coughed. "Four men in black. With those...creepy masks,"

Isabelle released him. "Whatever. They left more than what it was worth."