Island Conomi Islands

[Lamby]

Conomi Islands #16
@Kaka​

The forest of death, trees rustling blissfully as the smog and sizzling stone of Arlong park polluted the air as an after effect of S's assault. Arlong was devastated at this and his embarrassment and shattered pride quickly turned into a sparkling rage. "THOSE DAMN HUMANS!" He exclaimed.

"HOW DARE THEY! WE ARE THE SUPERIOR RACE, RAVAGING MY PARK; THEY'VE GOT SOME NERVE!"

"Arlong-kun!" Sharply interjected Jimbe. Standing his ground his eyes dug straight into Arlong's disgraceful demeanor. "Wordon had just barely escaped certain death with Sam suffering horrible burns! What use is it to bark and rant whilst your subordinates are in poor condition. Kanung might as well be considered out of commission similarly to Sam. You saw the attack the same way I did, there's a serious threat and yet your leadership skills aren't reflecting what a proper warrior should."

"I didn't come here to rejoin your crew but to enjoy the company of my fellowmen. Give me Sam, I'll take care of him. I won't be staying to help you anyway."

"Jimbe! You can't... I need as much help as I can get." Pleaded Arlong.

"No. Just leave the injured with me. I won't help you anymore than this, your prejudice is misplaced. Times changed, humans don't all view us as less and our powers aren't to be doubted no longer."

"Tch- Even then, the people here. This, GAH!"

"Arlong." Interjected Wordon. "We've got to locate the Enemy, I trust Jimbe with Sam but when it comes to us; we have a common enemy."

Arlong was conflicted; it was just him and Wordon now. Jimbe had chosen his stance on the situation, he laid Sam's unconscious body in the clutches of his whaleshark "friend." He lead Wordon, the treaded back through the forest heading back north to the front of the park, using the flora as cover.

 

[Emperor Cross]

It has been months since Shaarib Hassan set foot on this forsaken island. He first arrived here, as a captain, barely above 170cm. A kid still finding his muscles, a kid still searching who he was. It was the first time our soldier doubted himself since entering the force.

The second time, Shaarib arrived as a messiah, a fresh Vice-Admiral or Real Admiral, a young man, full of himself; after eating a Mythical Devil Fruit. At that time he wasn’t afraid of anything, wounds dissolved at frightening speeds. A finger snap and Shaarib would be brand new. A phoenix, resplendent, illuminating the whole blue.

Each time, he came with a precise objective : Kill Arlong. As a rookie, the whole 169th failed miserably. The second time, Shaarib, in a fit of anger, destroyed Arlong Park and killed most of his crew. But despite his ridiculous powers, the birdman could not get his claws on Arlong. The pirate had ran away. Shaarib left with a bitter taste in his mouth. Telling himself the island would now be free of piracy and the people of said islands would come back.

Unfortunately, it did not happen like that. Focus on other things, it took a call from Fishman Island for the Skypiean to learn the news of Arlong coming back there for a new reign of tyranny. Add-on to that the fact that Jimbe, one’s dear to Shaarib’s heart was rumored to be helping them.

The legendary ensign, assigned to Dawn, stole a boat and navigated toward the island.

@Hiei

Spoiler: Stats

100 x 6 = 600

Strength: 60+(1x10)+(3x10)+5(MA)= 105

Speed: 70+(3x10)+5(MA)=105
105*2=210
-Reaction:105
-Movement:105

Vitality:80+(2x10)+5(MA)+15(DF)=120
120*2= 240
-Durability:120
-Stamina:120

Devil Fruit : 100 + 20

Haki : 100
100*2=200
Armament [Offensive]= 100+20
Observation [Awareness]= 100 +20
Conqueror

Martial Arts: 100=100
100*2=200
-Rokushiki : 100
- Fishman Karate :100
-Dials [PERK]

+20 x 3 = 60
Left : 30

 

[The Fool]

[CONOMI ISLANDS]​

Post 1 - @Emperor Cross ​

The sea is calm. Children laugh again along the village shores, and fishermen set sail without fear. The people no longer walk beneath the jaws of tyranny but the sea never forgets.

And neither does Arlong.

Once, he ruled here Saw-Shark Arlong, the terror of the East Blue, a symbol of Fishman superiority and cruel ambition. His laughter thundered across the waves, his trident planted like a flag of conquest in the very heart of Arlong Park.

But those days are gone.

The walls of Arlong Park now stand half-submerged and shattered, broken coral spires leaning like tired sentinels. The banners that once flew with pride now lie torn beneath creeping vines and salt-blasted debris.

And in the distance, near the shallows, Momoo, the loyal Sea Cow, stares at the sea with vacant eyes, ever waiting.

It all fell apart when Marine Shaarib returned.

Not the reckless pirate Arlong once knew but a hardened blade of justice, cloaked in Marine white and carrying the weight of every injustice he had endured under Arlong’s reign. He didn’t come for negotiation. He didn’t come to warn.

He came to end it.

The Arlong Pirates stood their ground. They fought back with all the fury of wounded beasts Kuroobi, Chuu, Hatchan they roared, raged, struck with all their might. And yet, one by one, they fell to Shaarib’s wrath, delivered with cold precision.

And then came Arlong himself.

The saw-toothed tyrant fought like a storm given form tooth and nail, fury and instinct, pride and hatred. His blows cracked the stone beneath them, his roars echoed into the depths, and he did not fall easily. He pushed Shaarib to his limits. He wounded him. Made him bleed.

But Shaarib never faltered.

And Arlong saw it in the man’s eyes not just strength, but clarity. The clarity of a man who had already seen the end, and simply come to make it real.

Arlong did not die that day.

He crawled from that battle battered, broken, bloodied his pride shattered like his trident but not undone. Not yet.

He vanished for weeks into the sea, deeper than he'd ever gone. Some say he fled to the ocean floor, others whisper he sought out old connections in the criminal underworld of the Grand Line.

But then, under the cover of night…

He returned.

To the wreckage of his old dominion. To Arlong Park.

Not to rebuild.

But to remember.

Now, he sits alone in the ruins of his throne, jagged coral in place of his once-polished seat. The silence does not mock him it teaches him. Every echo is a lesson. Every scar is a reminder.

He sharpens his teeth more often now. Not out of vanity but preparation.

He speaks to Momoo, not with orders, but with ideas. Dark ones. Ruthless ones. His ideology hasn’t died it’s evolving. His hatred hasn’t faded it’s growing smarter. No longer does he rage blindly against the world of humans.

Now, he plots.

“The surface forgot what it means to fear the sea,” he mutters.
“Next time… they won’t be so lucky.”

So the people of Conomi go about their lives, unaware that in the ruins just beyond the mangroves, a predator is licking his wounds, not to retreat… but to strike again when the time is right.

Because Arlong is not dead.

He’s waiting.

 

[Emperor Cross]

Shaarib Hassan was happy to have been gifted with tremendous ability in Mantra. He could feel most of the living things around him within a 400-meter radius. When he said feel, he meant he could see colors, the souls of what stood around him, and voices. And the feeling he had since arriving was not welcome.

The ensign stood in the sun, eyes glasses reflecting the rays but he was cold.​

He could feel the sadness and terror the villagers had experienced before their flight. Several months after the defeat of the fish-men, Shaarib stood in the middle of the same carnage he had once left behind. The houses in Gosa Village were still overturned. The path was still destroyed. Not a single person had set foot there. At least, not to live.

Shaarib knew he was being followed; ever since his arrival, he had let those spies soak in his stunning style. Black sandals, black pants, and a black jacket—very original. But what stood out was his blue T-shirt bearing the Kanji for Justice and his trusted law enforcement hat hiding the thick braids on his head. His wings wrapped around his waist, Shaarib was flipping through the many pages of an old, faded, and dusty book, tracing the lines with his fingers.

At first glance, one might have thought the soldier had trouble reading, but upon getting closer, one could see the two scars the bird-man had over his eyes. One could notice that although he seemed to be reciting prayers, his eyes were closed. Shaarib Hassan was blind. But not naïve. Fighters from the Ryugu Kingdom were there. And they owed him respect as a knight of that very same kingdom.

- " Ma ma, isn't it time to come greet me ?" ​

 

[The Fool]

[Conomi Island]​

Post 2 - @Emperor Cross ​

The winds over Gosa Village had not changed. Still dry. Still lifeless. Yet, Shaarib could feel it.

Not the breeze...but the shift.

There were new colors now. New souls stirring at the edge of the carnage. They had not made their presence known directly. They hadn’t needed to. Shaarib, guided by Mantra, felt them the way a blind man feels the sun through cracked glass...muted but present, and warm only with ill intent.

They weren’t villagers. They weren’t scavengers. And they weren’t here for peace.

He stood unmoved, black jacket catching the rays as his fingers traced over the old pages. His wings remained draped, his stance loose, his breath steady. But inwardly, his mind noted them one by one.

The first soul pulsed loudest. Like crashing waves during a red moon.

Kanung. A broad, towering red-skinned Fishman, his frame imposing and sculpted like a stone idol. He wore a casual summer outfit...an open floral shirt over a muscled chest, tattered shorts, and thick sandals stomping dry earth as though it were reef underfoot. From a distance, one might mistake him for relaxed. But his presence betrayed the truth: something violent barely suppressed beneath the calm.

The second was cold and calculated.

Wordon. A Fishman with a swordsman’s posture...lean and disciplined. His dark green hair was slicked back, and his bearing carried the quiet weight of someone forged in battle. A long coat fluttered behind him, and a sword rested lazily at his hip. There was sharpness to him—not just in his blade, but in his soul. One could sense the echoes of other great warriors in the way he moved. He did not walk so much as glide, each step measured like a tactician’s advance on enemy lines.

Then came the third. Smooth. Precise. Controlled.

Sam. Yellow-skinned and dressed in a formal crimson-red suit, worn over a deep blue shirt. His tie was loose, undone like a man returning from a funeral. Hair trimmed clean, shoes polished, his look clashed with the desolation around him...but not unintentionally. He wore elegance like armor, hiding the cruelty in his cold, sea-colored eyes.

They kept their distance.

They watched.

And Shaarib didn’t need to see them with his eyes to know why they were here.

They were Arlong’s.

Not his original crew....but the survivors of his vision. Recruited in the years after his fall, the ones he’d gathered in the shadows of the undersea world. When the world thought Arlong broken, he’d found others like him...those discarded by their kind, twisted by loss, sharpened by hate.

Shaarib didn’t move. He didn’t need to.

They weren’t here for him. Not yet.

But their arrival meant one thing.

The tide was rising again.

 

[Emperor Cross]

The riffraff refusing to move, Shaarib continued on his way. Hand in his pocket, eyes staring into the void. Shaarib was in search of another crew he was looking for Jimbei. Those people weren’t on his side, so if they didn’t come to him, he wasn’t going to waste his time on them. The average fishman, at least the pirate type, had a sense of superiority over the people who lived above the surface. If the three of them were holding back from approaching, it could only mean one thing: they must have known who the Marine was. Shaarib suspected as much. After the destruction caused in the New World against Hody Jones and the damage he had inflicted there, it was predictable.

The Marine had hoped to meet Jimbei or one of his crew members, but he had missed the opportunity. He now had to head to another village. The bird-man feared the knight might side with Arlong. He didn’t want to ask his new ally to choose between his turbulent past under Fisher Tiger and his present as a protector. Shaarib didn’t want it to come to that. Shedding a pirate’s blood was one thing, taking the life of someone respected was something else entirely.

 

[The Fool]

[Conomi Island]​

Post 3 - @Emperor Cross ​

The ocean was calm, eerily so. Whale sharks glided through the deep blue beneath him, silent and massive, like guardians escorting a man with too much on his mind. Jinbe stood atop one of their broad backs, arms crossed, the sun catching on the tips of his wild black hair. The current was gentle, but the weight in his chest was anything but.

He was heading to Conomi Islands. To Arlong Park. The name still left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had heard rumors swirling among Fishman-kind. The ruins of the East Blue had stirred again. A place with too many ghosts.

Jinbe remembered it well. Not just the pain it represented, but the choices made there. His own legacy tangled in the ruins, tied to names and bloodlines he wished had turned out different. The memory of Fisher Tiger and the shadow of Arlong loomed large. Arlong Park was a wound that never healed.

Kanung. Wordon. Sam. They weren’t of Arlong’s original crew. No, they came after the fall, after Jinbe had cut ties and tried to steer his people toward something better. He had met them years ago, long after Arlong had disappeared into the depths following his defeat. They were strays at the time, bruised by the world above and hardened by the one below. Arlong had taken them in, not as brothers, but as weapons. Jinbe could see it even then, Kanung’s rage, Wordon’s blade-silence, Sam’s polished cruelty. They weren’t like Arlong, not entirely. They were worse in some ways. Less ideology, more blood.

Jinbe had tried, once, to talk sense into them. To speak to the better angels of their nature. It didn’t work. Now they haunted the ruins of the Park, like the last rotten echoes of what once was. He had hoped time would wash them away. That was his mistake.

As the coastline approached on the horizon, Jinbe exhaled slowly. He was getting close. He could sense it. Walking ground that still bled history. Jinbe’s heart beat slow, heavy. He did not know what would come of his return, whether it would be a reckoning, a redemption, or something far more painful. But he would go. For Tiger. For the future. For the peace he still believed in.

And if he was asked where he stood, he would answer without hesitation: “I do not stand with ghosts.”

 

[Emperor Cross]

Shaarib left the devastated village, his head slightly turned toward the sea. Unable to see it, he took pleasure in listening to the sound of the waves. The most probable hypothesis was that Jimbe must have moved to another village, one with many more villagers. And so, after one or two hours of silent walking accompanied by the sound of the wind and the soft "toc-toc-toc" his cane made against the ground, our orderly arrived in front of a hut in the forest.

With total confidence, Shaarib approached and knocked three times on the door with the back of his hand. Footsteps could be heard, and an old man came to open the door. A face marked with wrinkles, skin forever tanned by the sun, a hunched back—the man looked every bit the part of an old fisherman. Shaarib could sense that the man emanated no hostility. From the bird-man, however, emanated no hint of hospitality. His stern expression and imposing figure gave him a hostile appearance.

Curiously, the old man invited him inside and made him some tea without asking a single question. He merely encouraged the marine to sit down and have a drink. Shaarib waited a moment before clearing his throat and speaking:

- “Shaarib Hassan. Marine. I’ve come to this land. However, I’m searching for a few small troublemakers…”

- “I see... I see... You’re on a quest, aren’t you? First of all, be wary of the sea, Sir Shaarib. It has been angry of late. The waves cast out horrible fish… Fish stirred up by storms that aren’t natural… You probably won’t find them here, but beyond these surroundings. Neither in Cocoyashi nor Gosa…”

Shaarib nodded, the warning echoing in his mind, but he did not take it into account. Then, with a resolute step, he resumed his journey, his wings softly beating the air behind him

 

[The Fool]

[Conomi Island]​

Post 4 - @Emperor Cross ​

The wind was constant along the edges of the island. From the trees to the ocean’s breath, everything seemed to whisper of what had come before. Among the winding paths and broken remnants of the village, distant figures emerged like memories born from the rubble.

Kanung sat cross-legged beneath the shade of a slanted palm, arms resting on his knees, webbed fingers curling slightly with each rise and fall of his chest. His red skin shimmered faintly in the light that pushed through the canopy. His left eye, forever shut, was crossed by a faded mark he wore like a reminder. Yellow whiskers twitched with the wind. His mind wasn’t in the moment. He was recalling old words, the ones Arlong muttered bitterly about the shameful loss to a certain Marine long ago. Arlong had spoken of it rarely but with venom, always gritting his teeth after long, furious nights of training. Kanung had seen it with his own eyes—the desperation in the swing of Arlong’s punches, the obsession in how he swam against currents for hours, punishing himself for not being stronger.

Wordon stood nearby, arms crossed, pale blue-grey skin catching slivers of sunlight through the trees. His gills flexed slightly on his shoulders. The black coat with its red cloud design draped over his broad back, a sword strapped behind him by a brown sash. He glanced down at Kanung with a scoff.

“You remember the old bastard still sulking over that loss?” Wordon muttered.

Kanung gave a dry chuckle. “He wasn’t sulking. He was sharpening. Every setback made him more dangerous. I saw it. We both did.”

Wordon nodded once, his sharp eyes narrowing. “That night I found him drunk, ranting about revenge... I thought he was done. But he came back harder. Trained like hell. I helped him because I saw it. He wasn’t broken. He was coiled.”

“He always said he’d pay that Marine back,” Kanung said, leaning forward slightly. “And when he left, he swore he'd only return when he was stronger. Looks like that time is close.”

Further down the trail, near the edge of a crumbling village, a sharp, grating voice rose above the murmurs of the wind and sea. Sam Tiger stood tall, his vibrant red suit shining in the light, blue shirt crisp beneath and orange tie slightly fluttering as he raised his arm toward a trembling human man kneeling at his feet. His pale yellow skin glinted in the sun, purple hair tied neatly back, though strands had loosened from his movement. Three rings glinted on his fingers—gold, silver, bronze—each one clenched tight around a rising fist.

“You’ve got one day!” Sam growled, stepping forward as the man scrambled back on hands and knees. “One day to pay what’s owed. Or someone in that pathetic family of yours takes the price instead.”

A crowd had formed quickly, whispers turning into gasps, children crying as adults pulled them back. The man’s wife screamed, but Sam’s glare shut her up instantly. His towering figure, built like a hardened boxer, was enough to silence even the brave. He loomed, fists twitching as if daring anyone to try and stop him.

The human spat blood into the dirt, his lip split from the punch Sam had already delivered. No one came to his defense. Not yet.

Sam stepped back slowly, cracking his knuckles with an unsettling grin. “Tick tock, worm.”

The commotion rippled outward. Others pretended not to see. But the tension in the air was unmistakable.

Something had shifted again in Conomi Islands. And not for the better.

 

[Einsauer]

Two Noses Are Better Than One

Spoiler: Stats

Level 100
Unused Points: 17
Strength- 51 (+40)(+5)(+5)= 101
Speed- 81 (+10)(+5)(+5)= 101
Reaction: 101
Movement: 101
Vitality- 51 (+40)(+5)(+5)= 101
Durability: 101
Stamina: 101
Haki- 100
Armament Haki (Offensive): 100
Observation Haki (Precognition): 100
Martial Arts- 100
Fishman Karate: 100
Chains: 100
Mind- 100
Navigation: 100
Carpentery: 100

Spoiler: NPCs

List: Gochi
Gochi Stats:
Level 70
Strength: 65(+30)(+5)=100
Speed: 85(+7)=92
Reaction:92
Movement:92
Vitality: 43(+30)(+5)=78
Durability:74
Stamina: 82
Haki: 91
Armament Haki (Offensive): 100
Observation Haki (Precognition): 82
Martial Arts: 66
Jawjitsu: 91
Fishman Karate: 41

The warm waters surrounding the Conomi Islands slapped against the small boat being lazily captained by the Grand Line pirate captain, Sweet Einsauer. Her predatory eyes half shut while approaching the known headquarters for the Arlong Pirates, or at least their remnants. The swordfish-woman planned to recruit the notorious captain, Arlong, for her upcoming plans to conquer the seas- currently unaware that her least favorite marine had already taken a foothold here.

After her failed attempt to turn the Kuja on their captors, she decided to move down the ladder a bit to strengthen her relations with her fellow fishmen.

Her energetic cabin boy, swam around her ship, excitedly snapping up any foolish fry oblivious enough to approach the small boat. At least until Sweet's eyes drifted up to the quickly approaching landmass. "Alright." She said calmly, slightly relieved her long voyage with the cannibal fishboy was reaching a temporary end. She slowed her ship and stuck her head into the ocean, peering around for the piranha boy. "Hey, get on the boat. We're here."
The little creature's head snapped to attention and then was propelled up and out of the water with alarmingly swiftness, landing on the boat with a wet slap of his webbed feet on the hard, dark planks. The boy's sea-soaked captain's hat drooped over his face more than it usually did as he grinned mischievously beneath it.
"Do you know where we are, Gochi?" She asked the boy.
"Not a clue." He responded through large, clacking fangs.

She felt an involuntary smile slide unto her face as she gave an answer to her own question. "We're at Arlong Park."
"BIG BRO ARLONG!?" Gochi yelped excitedly. "I'M GONNA MEET BIG BRO ARLONG!?"

"We're going to meet Arlong-" she corrected. "-and you're gonna keep your teeth to yourself or I swear I'll smash them out of your head." The captain said, still smiling, as she prepared to pull her ship along the island- she planned to take her boat straight to the gates of Arlong Park, or whatever remained of it.
She knew of Shaarib Hassan's previous attacks on the island and she was keen to leverage any ill-will that Arlong might harbor within. Sweet had no respect for the obnoxious marine, she herself wanted him gone- but that would need to come with time, or so she believed. Despite her usual insistence not to anger the marines, attempting to lay far below their radar, it seemed that violence against them often was required against her judgment.

Sweet was hoping to make the visit quick, planning to return to her crew on Water 7 and collect her new ships- however she was unmistakably excited to meet Arlong as well. She was expecting a far easier time recruiting him to her cause than the uppity Snake Princess, Boa Hancock.

@Hiei @Emperor Cross

 

[Emperor Cross]

#At thirteen Shaarib's grandfather took him on an excursion. A little trip to create or strengthen the bond they had or should have. At that point, he was a brooding little bitty monster. He had done everything to leave the island without avail. The people of the curch were always catching him whenever he was ready to jump the wall. On some of the lucky days, he would be able to get into the town, and the few marines would immediately catch his presence.

Each tentative ending in the office of Vice-Admiral Hassan, a man who always made our hero feel at odds. He always kept a certain look when he would ask Shaarib why he would persist in such actions. An indiscernible expression that felt quietly like judgment. Eyes that haunted your souls, that wanted more from you. Eyes that he still sees peering when in doubt.

This trip had been a triggering event for who he was. Unbeknownst to the kid, they went on a hunt for pirates. He had been proud when he was chosen to tie them to a mast. What he regretted later on was when Hajib beheaded a full crew, one by one. Absolute Justice, the means he needed to become a man, to be great.

And years later, he had been indoctrinated, his hands were dirty, sometimes when he dreamt, he would be sinking in a sea of blood. No pirates deserved to live. No criminals should be voguing on the seas. It was for the greater good. But how would Hajib react if he were ever saved by a pirate ? Shaarib had been judged by a divinity and kept on his path. But what could he do when he was spared by an Emperor, when everything he was at that moment of time was due to Red-Haired SHanks ?

How would sparring the lives of the Fishmen here do any good to the citizens of this island ? Shaarib's complacency resulted in Arlong getting away and taking his revenge on the innocents. The blind man could see from far away one of the insects trying to bully the villagers. He was going to try, he was going to be nice with them. Once more...

One step, two steps, on the third, the ensign was already halfway. With the fourth and last step, he would be right on target; he would then decide. #

- "Ma ma..."

 

[The Fool]

[Conomi Island]​

Post 5 - @Emperor Cross @Einsauer ​

Wind swept across the Conomi Islands, carrying the salt of the sea and the weight of old fears. In every swaying branch and every shifting tide, the past seemed to whisper, never letting the villagers forget what had once ruled over them.

High above the coastline, the ruins of Arlong Park still jutted against the sky. Crumbled though it was, its outline remained unmistakable, a scar etched into the land. To the people who had lived beneath its shadow, it was not just stone. It was memory made solid: years of tribute stolen, of loved ones beaten, of freedom drowned in the jaws of a tyrant.

Those memories never loosened their grip. Some swore they still heard his mocking laugh carried by the waves, others jolted awake at night to the phantom sound of jaws snapping shut. Even in daylight, the thought of his rows of teeth could turn the air cold, as if the sea itself waited to reclaim what little they had built since his fall.

Now whispers confirmed what no one wanted to believe. Arlong had returned. His name moved like smoke through the villages, unspoken yet inescapable. Doors closed earlier, shutters rattled against the wind, and fishermen cut their trips short, casting wary glances toward the horizon.

Parents pulled their children close, telling them not to stray near the shore. Shopkeepers tightened their fists around coin pouches, as if payment might already be demanded. Every conversation ended the same way: silence, heavy and fearful, broken only by the creak of wood or the rush of the tide.

It was as though the island itself held its breath, waiting for the first cruel act, the first demand, the first drop of blood to prove that the nightmare had not died. It had only been waiting.

 

[Einsauer]

The small ship carrying two Sweet Pirates rocked lightly as it moved quickly along the perimeter of the island housing Arlong Park. Her eyes looked ahead, awaiting the vision of a damaged Arlong Park- instead her gaze inevitably fell upon an absolute pile of wreckage. Her eyes narrowed in contempt- was she even sure Arlong was still alive?
With a sigh, the towering fishwoman looked to her odd companion for support. "Well... Can you smell him?"
Gochi looked up in confusion. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT BIG BRO SMELLS LIKE." He sniffed at the air from beneath his hat a few times. "THERE ARE FISHMEN THOUGH!"

Sweet sailed the small ship onwards towards the destroyed Arlong Park, her little boat passing through the now permanently open gates. They both hopped from the boat, Gochi first then Sweet. The piranha-boy sniffed around at the ground on all fours like an excited dog picking up multiple trails. The sword-fish fishwoman's long legs stepped over the fishboy, she wandered around lightly analyzing the rubble.

Gochi twitched as he picked up a scent. A scent he could SWEAR he had picked up before, a smell that was new to him at the time... A little different now, but the peculiar scent tickled his nose. A bit acrid, meaty, and with a blood not yet tasted. New, yet... When had he smelled this before... He giggled to himself, overwhelmed momentarily by the excitement of a new food, forgetting his original train of thought and instead announcing: "I SMELL SOMETHING NEW, BIG SIS!"
"Ignore it. We're looking for fishmen, not something new." Sweet responded coldly while looking at a piece of rubble she held in her webbed hand. The little blue pirate scowled at her disinterest in cuisine, but obeyed reluctantly- trying to track the scent of unfamiliar fishmen. The birds chirped peacefully in the trees and the sun met their skin tenderly as Gochi took multiple moments to bring in the scents around him.
Then, with just a quick word: "OKAY!" The little blue blur took over like a wild animal, Sweet dropped her rubble and sighed following behind at a safe distance. Her hefty chains rattled quietly whilst coiled up her lanky arms.

Sweet thought over what she knew about this place, was all that destruction from Shaarib Hassan? Her eyes passed around her environment, according to the news Arlong had survived multiple attempts on his life from the marine- but his base was in complete wreckage...
Shew scowled as she looked ahead to the plume of white fluff connected to Gochi's hat. The fishwoman sighed knowing she was currently relying on child with the mind of a starved dog. Her grimace tightened a little as the plume started to get smaller as if sensing her thoughts just before, he was speeding up; she quickened her pace to keep him in view. "What the hell?-" She muttered.

@Hiei @Emperor Cross

 

[Emperor Cross]

Further down the trail, near the edge of a crumbling village, a sharp, grating voice rose above the murmurs of the wind and sea. Sam Tiger stood tall, his vibrant red suit shining in the light, blue shirt crisp beneath and orange tie slightly fluttering as he raised his arm toward a trembling human man kneeling at his feet. His pale yellow skin glinted in the sun, purple hair tied neatly back, though strands had loosened from his movement. Three rings glinted on his fingers—gold, silver, bronze—each one clenched tight around a rising fist.

“You’ve got one day!” Sam growled, stepping forward as the man scrambled back on hands and knees. “One day to pay what’s owed. Or someone in that pathetic family of yours takes the price instead.”

A crowd had formed quickly, whispers turning into gasps, children crying as adults pulled them back. The man’s wife screamed, but Sam’s glare shut her up instantly. His towering figure, built like a hardened boxer, was enough to silence even the brave. He loomed, fists twitching as if daring anyone to try and stop him.

The human spat blood into the dirt, his lip split from the punch Sam had already delivered. No one came to his defense. Not yet.

Sam stepped back slowly, cracking his knuckles with an unsettling grin. “Tick tock, worm.”

The commotion rippled outward. Others pretended not to see. But the tension in the air was unmistakable.

With his third step, the blind soldier finally arrived in the village.



He already knew where to go; one person was radiating fury, his aura, like his clothes, was full of red. Shaarib did not know who the pirate was; he might have been one of Arlong’s recruits. They were repeating the same modus operandi, bullying folks and beating them into the ground to instill fear into the other villagers.



Small trash, complete in themselves, acting like they were kings in the weakest sea of the blues. It did not take much time for Shaarib to appear at the Yellow Fishman’s side. Each hand already crumpled as a fist, one arm already elongated be him him. With a movement of shoulder, Shaarib’s arm came back as fast and deadly as a bullet ready to tear through the bully’s head.

- « Gomu Gomu no Pistol ! »

[9.Small Country at 120 speed.]

 

[The Fool]

[CONOMI ISLANDS]​

Post 6 - @Emperor Cross @Einsauer ​

The air shifted the moment Sam stepped forward, boots sinking slightly into the ruined soil of Arlong Park. The wreckage around him still whispered of old fear, the kind of fear Arlong had carved into this place long before his fall. Even with the sun rising above the shattered towers, the villagers watched from a distance with a trembling kind of dread. Arlong’s shadow still lived in them, and today that shadow felt as though it had returned.

Sam steadied his breathing. He could feel something closing in fast. A presence. Pressure. Like the air itself tightened around his ribs. There was no warning, no sound, no killing intent leaking ahead of time. The attack came without the courtesy of announcement.

A blur cut the air.

Sam barely saw the fist before it struck him. A shockwave thundered across the clearing, dust exploding upwards in a violent plume. The impact hit him square in the chest like a cannon fired point-blank. His body folded around it and the world snapped sideways. His back smashed into a jagged slab of rubble and the stone cracked beneath the force.

Pain sharpened, bright and unforgiving, lancing through bone and muscle. For a moment, his vision flickered white.

He pushed one hand against the ground, teeth clenched, the metallic sting of blood rising in his mouth. The villagers gasped from hiding, convinced the stranger had been killed outright. Sam refused that possibility. He forced himself upright, breath shuddering but steady enough.

The dust thinned just enough for him to see the figure standing ahead. Calm. Centred. Unflinching. Whoever this fighter was, he had never intended to strike Sam. He simply had, by sheer speed, caught Sam in the line of fire.

Sam wiped the blood from his mouth and forced his breath to steady. The dust parted just enough for the silhouette ahead to sharpen into the shape of the man who had struck him. His eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from shock to a cold, rising disgust.

He pushed himself fully upright, shoulders squared despite the pain hammering through his ribs.

"Who just did that?" he demanded, his voice low and edged like a drawn blade.

His gaze locked on the man responsible, disgust settling deeper into his tone.

"What is your problem?"

 

[Einsauer]

Lanky legs carried Sweet Einsauer easily over the underbrush that the little fishboy had chosen to run through rather than any sort of path or road. Gochi had chosen to neglect to mention that the source of the fishman scent also was the source of the mysterious smell that intrigued him. His heartbeat, as well as his little webbed feet, quickened as the scent of blood hit his nostrils.
"Will you quit running ahead?!" Sweet barked out to no avail. Faster and faster the little creature moved and more and more she was forced to run after him, soon his body began to blur into a feverish tornado tearing through shrubs and tree trunks, she could tell-- he smelled something alright.

​

Soon enough she could make out, in the ever-nearing distance, what he was running towards: a town. She grimaced and attempted to lasso her small companion with one of her heavy chains, however Gochi unwittingly sped out of her range and into the little grouping of houses to investigate the smell. Sweet watched as the little menace disappeared into the town using an odd alley rather than the obvious entrance. The pirate captain began coiling up her chain as she began walking at a more comfortable pace- she should've kept him on a tighter leash...

Gochi blasted through an alley, reducing a trashcan in his path to scrap metal, the scent was so strong now he could hardly stand it. He stopped for a moment to take in his surroundings before hurrying off towards the scent he couldn't yet identify-- but was unmistakably rubber...
The little, blue boy "looked" around at the few straggling citizens casting nervous or contemptuous looks in his direction. He ran ahead towards a large grouping people, finally knowing he was in the vicinity of this new smell.
He pushed through the nervous crowd and rather than prioritizing the scent of blood as usual, he instead to first go to the new scent. Gochi frantically danced up to Shaarib Hassan, a Vice-Admiral in the Marines.
"SHAHAHAHA!" He laughed, saliva strung from his top teeth to his bottom. His oversized sleeves covered his hands as he approached wide-mouthed with hands out expectantly. "WHAT IS YOUR SMELL?" @Emperor Cross

 

[Emperor Cross]

A blur cut the air.

Sam barely saw the fist before it struck him. A shockwave thundered across the clearing, dust exploding upwards in a violent plume. The impact hit him square in the chest like a cannon fired point-blank. His body folded around it and the world snapped sideways. His back smashed into a jagged slab of rubble and the stone cracked beneath the force.

Pain sharpened, bright and unforgiving, lancing through bone and muscle. For a moment, his vision flickered white.

He pushed one hand against the ground, teeth clenched, the metallic sting of blood rising in his mouth. The villagers gasped from hiding, convinced the stranger had been killed outright. Sam refused that possibility. He forced himself upright, breath shuddering but steady enough.

The dust thinned just enough for him to see the figure standing ahead. Calm. Centred. Unflinching. Whoever this fighter was, he had never intended to strike Sam. He simply had, by sheer speed, caught Sam in the line of fire.

Sam wiped the blood from his mouth and forced his breath to steady. The dust parted just enough for the silhouette ahead to sharpen into the shape of the man who had struck him. His eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from shock to a cold, rising disgust.

He pushed himself fully upright, shoulders squared despite the pain hammering through his ribs.

"Who just did that?" he demanded, his voice low and edged like a drawn blade.

His gaze locked on the man responsible, disgust settling deeper into his tone.

"What is your problem?"

Shaarib let his cane fall to the ground, his face showing no emotion. The fish-man had survived his punch. He deserved praise for that — or maybe the soldier had unconsciously held back. He didn’t know. But the Skypiean was certain of one thing: his opponent must have realized the difference in stature between them.

The yellow-skinned man spoke, and Shaarib instantly knew he had overestimated the fish-brain. The bandit claimed he had been taken by surprise, so Shaarib felt compelled to correct the situation.

Because of his height, he was used to bending down to look at the people around him. But now and then, he had to take advantage of it. The marine straightened his posture, his shoulders stiffening, his back rising tall. The bird-man removed his glasses and cleaned them with a cloth pulled out from who knows where, giving the spectators time to observe the hideous scar carved across his face.

After a brief moment, Shaarib put his glasses back on and prepared to answer when the air around him suddenly shifted.

He pushed through the nervous crowd and rather than prioritizing the scent of blood as usual, he instead to first go to the new scent. Gochi frantically danced up to Shaarib Hassan, a Vice-Admiral in the Marines.
"SHAHAHAHA!" He laughed, saliva strung from his top teeth to his bottom. His oversized sleeves covered his hands as he approached wide-mouthed with hands out expectantly. "WHAT IS YOUR SMELL?"

A ball of energy had launched itself toward him: a little blue monster, drooling at the thought of eating such a fine bird. The blind man, meanwhile, kept his “gaze” fixed on someone else entirely. Not yet near them, but in the vicinity. A woman, also a fish-woman, as slender as she was malevolent. He knew her. Her presence was going to disrupt everything. But Shaarib was an actor. A predatory grin rose to answer the shark.

- "That smell in the air, boy?" he began in a light voice, totally ignoring Sam Tiger. "It's badassness, Name Shaarib Hassan, Himothy the 2nd." he finished a mischievous smile on the lips.

 

[The Fool]

[CONOMI ISLANDS]​

Post 7 - @Emperor Cross @Einsauer ​

The air around Sam thickened into something sharp and suffocating. Two figures closed in on him, their presence alone heavy enough to make the nearby crowd retreat in a jittery shuffle. Sam turned slowly, jaw tightening as he took in the sight of the Skypiean standing tall and unreadable, and the small, twitching creature beside him whose strange aura sent a cold ripple across Sam’s spine.

They said nothing, yet their intent hung in the silence like a drawn blade.

Sam wiped the corner of his mouth. His pulse beat louder than the murmuring crowd, louder even than the distant waves. It was the kind of silence that invited violence. The kind he knew too well.

He stepped forward, boots grinding against the dirt, eyes narrowing as he centred himself in front of both intruders.

"So that is how it is going to be" he muttered under his breath, every muscle bracing. His posture lowered, ready to spring, ready to retaliate, ready for whatever came next. "Fine."

Still, the two remained still, watching him with a focus that felt almost predatory.

Sam’s irritation simmered into something darker. His hand twitched at his side, the instinct to strike itching beneath his skin.

"Who just did that" he demanded again, eyes locked on them. The disgust in his tone returned, stronger now, sharpened by the realisation that neither had any intention of offering answers. "What is your problem?"

A tense hush spread through the onlookers. The three of them stood locked in place, the standoff beginning in earnest.

Every breath after that felt like it might be the one that ignited the fight.

 

[Einsauer]

Gochi licked his lips as Shaarib spoke, clearing off the excess saliva coating his chin. The heavy sound of sniffing slowed from beneath his hat as the little fish-boy processed the birdman's comment.

- "That smell in the air, boy?" he began in a light voice, totally ignoring Sam Tiger. "It's badassness, Name Shaarib Hassan, Himothy the 2nd." he finished a mischievous smile on the lips.

He smiled in the general direction of Shaarib and nodded. "LIKE A GULL!" He responded regarding some of the notes he was picking up. The piranha fishman took a step toward Shaarib. "ALSO, I'M A MAN, NOT A BOY!" He barked in response. "ALSO A PIRATE CAPTAIN THAT'S CONQUERED HALF THE WORLD ALREADY!"
Gochi's hands, from beneath oversized coat sleeves, sassily hit his hips. "MY NAME IS GOCHI, DON'T FORGET IT!"
The pungent scent of fresh blood finally overwhelmed Gochi's weak attention span. His oversized head snapped to the source of rich, metallic smell- a bruised up fishman. An involuntary cackle escaped his lips as he stepped towards Sam a bit now. "SHAHA!" He said with a smile. "YOU'RE DEFINITELY NOT BIG BRO ARLONG!"

In the distance Sweet entered through the main entrance to the town rather than the weird alleyway that Gochi had elected to take. She could hear the frantic babbling belonging to her cabin-boy bouncing off the buildings. Her eyebrows furrowed as she attempted to tighten her focus on what was being said, however it was only two or three steps into the small town that she felt eyes on her, more fearful and even contemptuous than usual, which was definitely saying something as a fishman. She knew to expect it, but a rush of adrenaline hit her as she realized she was in power here.

All the humans feared her, just as they would at sea. It was intoxicating for her. A confident smile stretched across her face as she took in all the pathways and buildings, as well as the faces of nervous humans cowering beneath her. She intentionally kept from the scene that Gochi was causing for the moment, choosing to instead figure out who or what he was yapping first.

@Emperor Cross @The Fool

 

[Emperor Cross]

He smiled in the general direction of Shaarib and nodded. "LIKE A GULL!" He responded regarding some of the notes he was picking up. The piranha fishman took a step toward Shaarib. "ALSO, I'M A MAN, NOT A BOY!" He barked in response. "ALSO A PIRATE CAPTAIN THAT'S CONQUERED HALF THE WORLD ALREADY!"
Gochi's hands, from beneath oversized coat sleeves, sassily hit his hips. "MY NAME IS GOCHI, DON'T FORGET IT!"

Shaarib let out a little laugh. The kid was funny. If it were any other marine in the blues, they would've let the small fish go with a little tap and a smile. The little ball of gluttony was as strong or even stronger than the yellow goon standing next to them. The marine needed to find Arlong so he knew fighting the man named Gochi wasn't a good decision. Especially for how child-like he looked. The birdman didn't need any bad PR these days. As slowly as he could, Shaarib reached out his free hand in a sign of peace.

- " Enchanté, manly Gochi."

"Who just did that" he demanded again, eyes locked on them. The disgust in his tone returned, stronger now, sharpened by the realisation that neither had any intention of offering answers. "What is your problem?"

The pirate was starting to get angry; you could tell he didn’t appreciate being ignored, especially after receiving a punch in the face.

The pungent scent of fresh blood finally overwhelmed Gochi's weak attention span. His oversized head snapped to the source of rich, metallic smell- a bruised up fishman. An involuntary cackle escaped his lips as he stepped towards Sam a bit now. "SHAHA!" He said with a smile. "YOU'RE DEFINITELY NOT BIG BRO ARLONG!"

However, the criminal’s intervention caught the little fish’s attention; he ignored the extended hand and, as his nature dictated, immediately revealed his plan. A surprise for Shahrub: the man named Gochi was after Arlong. Shaarib, too, if he played his cards right, could walk right up to his target and finish what he had started a year ago.

- "Although I am here for the same reason as my dear, I can't accept rats like you trying to bully the weak. " Interject the blind man." Either show me where Arlong is, or get wrecked, my yellow fishman.