One piece Reborn, Fool's Pursuit

[Raron]

He was surrounded by a whirling mass, steel on brass, brass on bronze. Gears spun and steam vented, pistons pumped as coal burned. Everywhere he looked metal glinted at him, heat surrounded it. It was a realm of renewal, of rebirth and looking down he could feel his flesh expand as his old school blazer melt and fall off in droplets and his leather shoes peeled off. His eyes bugged as he saw his hair fell in swaths onto his upraised hands. He raised his head and saw above him a mirror that stretched to the horizon and saw himself in it and saw... an alarm clock as it's hammer struck repeatedly against it's bell. His world filled with bells as the glass shattered.

He startled awoke and sat upright in his hammock strung between two pipes, his eyes darting a bit as his head reverberated with his patent alarm clock system which involved thirty seven different alarms strung around his hammock. His hands by rout began to turn them off in twos, some more violently then others and towards the end it was more along the line of slamming his fist into the top of them then anything else. The noise silenced in favor of the more reassuring sounds of The Heart of the Fool's Pursuit... his territory. A thing of beauty, perfectly designed and upkept by his own two hands. He smiled a bit looked at it before jumping off his bed with the jingle of layers of chain across his shoulders and arms and legs. He took a moment to look at his body, the stretch of new muscles, new control of his powers he could feel within himself as he gazed along the chains from where they wound around his limbs and shoulders to where they disappeared into his flesh through a series of maws built into his skin, these hungry mouth's each a ring of teeth that chewed constantly upon the chains. He patted on reassuringly before getting his naked body into motion and heading for the door while grabbing a pack of cigarettes and lighting one off one of a multitude of pilot lights.

While taking the first drag of the day he opened the door he looked down the hallway at the first mate and then looked down on his own body, a body shorter then average but built strong from sheer work and lately muscle resistance from chains of his own making, a litany of scars criss-crossed his back and shoulders under the chains, his arms under the chains were covered in a mural of tattoos of gears swirling in a sea of tribal curls. He saw the green hairs in his face from his green as-yet-unspiked mohawk as it hung in his face. And most telling of all were... piercings. Very obvious at the moment piercings. He looked up at the mate and sighing went back into his room and watching as the mouths on his legs consumed the chains in a slurping sound he put on a pair of blue jeans. He exited again and looked back at the first mate.

"Look, pants, dere na need ta play dead."

The sneer on his face was loud as he turned his back on he and headed for breakfast. He could smell it in the air and new Reuven didn't like people being late for his meals. He sometimes would hunt them down and force food on them... how a man that big could more that quietly Jax did not know but neither did he care much as he reached into his pocket and took out a dial and from the other a set of headphones and plugging one into the other he placed the headphones around his neck and listens to music that others might call "Discordant Screams and Banging Drums." He also idly wondered if Darkwater was up yet.

[Nemo]

Diana surfaced from the empty void of sleep with barely a sound, and took stock of her surroundings. Where was she? What was this on her back? What was that smell? The question of 'who am I' never arose - she already knew. Always she was herself. There was a moment's apprehension as her head turned this way and that, quick as a bird, blue eyes wide!

No cage. No bars. Just the dull hum of an engine, the soft comfort of her desk chair, and a very drooly book. There was a blanket on her shoulders... And she relaxed, slumping back against the chair's padded back. She sat like that for a full ten minutes, grasping the chair beneath her until her heart had slowed from a whine to a mere purr, and the fear left her. Then Dee sat straight on the edge of her seat, and looked at the book.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected to see - a big stain mebbe, but no, someone (she could guess who) had laid a piece of leather parchment between her and it. She looked up, and saw the bare morning light through the window. Even the lantern bolted to the wall had been snuffed out - And she knew who did that, too. Yes... She was here, on the Fool's Pursuit.

And that smell... It smelled earthy, somewhat, like... She blinked. Gumbo? Yes, definitely her new Captain's ship. She looked at the chronometer on the dias in the middle of the room, its clockwork humming and whirring even as she watched. One two three four... Five, and a half? It would be breakfast time soon. The cook wouldn't roar at her for beig late (Not after Jax and he had had 'a discussion', and the captain had had to step in) But she wouldn't see anyone get into trouble... Not again. Jax deserved better than that from her.

She got up, and was clean. For her, it was a matter of deciding to be. There was a moment of... I suppose you could call it wetness, a brief interlude with a glass of water taken from the reserves, the formation of a ball she threw into the privy without looking at too closely, and she was clean as a whistle!

Her hair though... that she brushed. The brush wasn't fancy - it was bone, but it was polished and... And Jax had given it to her. It was the first thing she ever owned and she treasured it. She drug it through her hair, wincing once or twice as tangles were worked out, then set it with the little barettes she'd made so the right side of her face was visible, and the left hidden - She just liked how it looked.

And so, Darkwater Diana stepped out, ready to face the day. The cook had breakfast ready every day at six-fifteen, regular - that gave her thirty five minutes or so! She walked quietly down the halls, and set to looking for Jax.

[Raron]

Red, red everywhere as far as the eye could see. He walked alone on the sticky red ground. His bare feet caked with both the red and the dirt under it. His bare brown flesh redder from the sun bouncing off the blood that coated everything. His naked flesh gleaming with sweat as he ran and his feet tore apart the ground with his passage. He opened his mouth but his scream didn't ring out, no sound, no cry, just the sound of his bare feet slapping on the ground again and again as tears poured down his face only to turn to steam. Slowly the scene, himself, everything faded to black as he felt something impact the side of his head and light burned everything away.

Reuven's eye snapped open, his gaze one of glaring fury that never seemed to leave no matter his actual emotion. His eyes traveled to the hammer he had rigged to fall and slam into the side of his head when the clock reached three o clock in the morning and reaching up with one shovel sized hand he pushed it back to it's normal position before levering himself up from the bare wood floor. He moved with surprising quietness for a man who was a little over eight feet tall and almost half as broad at the shoulder. His massive muscled form was huge to the point that as Jax put it "If dat man flexs other muscles have ta get out of da way first." The only bit of what some might call softness was a belly that was definately a cook's belly but even that was harder then some might expect. He wore a simple pair of blue jeans, a white apron, and a red shirt over that flesh and as he stood his other hand reached out and grabbing a clean red bandana he tied it around the top of his head and hopefully drawing attention from his sinister eyes and maybe to the fine goatee he was crafting.

He took a quick peek in the mirror as he washed his hands and then looked away, truth be told he would give alot to be 'normal' to not have a face that cause people to either run or attack him but he just did what he always did. He endured. He did it quietly as to avoid waking the first mate who was curled up asleep under a table. He creeped across the floor and starting grabbing things out of drawers and cabinets and the fridge powered by a cold dial and set to work prepping breakfast including possibly the most important thing of all, the captains coffee. Taking a tray the size of his hand he put a small cup and a teapot filled with his homebrewed coffee on it. The last thing he wanted was the captain resorting to more of his 'green tea'. Reuven didn't think drinking herbs like that could be healthy for him at all. Coffee was what he needed and Reuven's coffee would get you started. It was coffee as thick as syrup, it could just about get a dead man's heart beating. It was something that would get you moving no matter what and he took great pride in it. Despite the fact it had a strange green foam that seemed to grow on it as it cooled, and that yellow steam wafted off it. It was important and as he heard the first mate stir he put the captain's cup and tray on the table just hanging over the edge as was the usual. He didn't even have to say a word he knee she would bring it to the captain as soon as she finished waking. Still.... it was morning so...

"... Morning... Coffee is ready when you are..."

His voice was halting and ground out of his throat roughly.

"...We are having bacon wrapped sausages... coffee... hmmmm maybe half cook the sausages, then pour pancake batter on them and cook them a second time. Breakfast cakes.... That would work.... Do me a favor make sure Jax set his alarms after you check on the captain..."

With that he went back to work cooking the sausages in water that was rapidly turning brown.