Grand Voyage- Log 20

I hate Dead Week.

It's all about just relaxing and finishing your assignments.

But the problem is,

all it does for me is give me more time

to think about finals.

And don't get me started on those.

-Zeon1

Log 20: Dahlia Part 1
“We’re here!” Sieghart cried joyfully, leaping from the bow of the Marine ship, his feet sinking gently into the sand of on this island’s beach. Kinan followed, though she made a much more dignified and calm landing, with the sand being barely disturbed by her feet. Gerard landed in a similar way, though he still kicked up a fair bit of sand.

The team was standing on an almost miniscule island, only about 20 feet across. Its perimeter was entirely a beach, which went for at least 3 feet before being stopped by a large garden that surrounded a conical, miniature mansion house on all sides. The garden was filled with exotic plants, fruits, flowers, you name it, and the island as a whole gave off a wonderful smell, a perfect mix of the light, cool smell of a beach with the warm, welcoming scent of a rainforest.

“Damn,” Gerard said in amazement, gently kicking some sand, “who the hell is this guy, to get a home like this?”

“He obviously deserves it in some way,” Kinan replied, “if he was in the Marines, that is.”

“Oh yes he was,” Sieghart replied, “oh yes he was. C’mon, we’re gonna be late!”

The trio set off across the beach, quickly finding a small marble-paved path that cut through the garden and lead to the mahogany door that lead into the mini-mansion. The group strolled through the guardian, sniffing a bit, enjoying the smells. It seemed like too little time for them to reach the door.

Sieghart reached up, then rapped lightly on it. The noise echoed inside, and the sound of small footsteps quickly approached them.

The door opened, revealing a somewhat thin, fairly aged man with tan-ish colored hair that hung lower over the back of his head. He wore a long brown travelling cloak with iron gauntlets and gray gloves. Stubble covered his chin. He smiled slightly once he saw Sieg at the door.

“Good evening,” Sieg said, bowing low, “Shiroshuji-sen-”

“SIEG!” the old man cried, tears exploding from his eyes as he pulled the tan-haired admiral into a crushing bear hug, “IT’S BEEN TO LONG! UWWWAAAHHH!!!”

“Err... what?” Gerard asked, sweatdropping, while Kinan simply watched, no emotion showing on her face whatsoever.

“It’s only been five years, damn you!” Sieghart cried, delivering a smashing blow to the old man’s head.

“FOOLISH CHILD!” the old man countered, his fist connecting with Sieghart’s jaw, knocking the Vice Admiral into a nearby pond, “TO THINK THAT I WOULD FALL FOR SUCH A TRICK!”

“Ah!” Sieghart said, noticing the water flying towards him, “Err, umm, err... Terabithian Rope!” A line of emerald arced from his fingers, connecting with a nearby tree. Shifting his momentum, Sieghart used his arms to pull himself over the line, landing neatly on the shore. “Damn, that was close.” He wiped sweat off his brow.

“Oho?” the old man asked, raising an eyebrow, “so you ate a Devil Fruit? The Eme Eme no Mi, I assume?”

“Yep,” Sieg replied, dusting himself off and trodding back to his team, “it’s hard to get anywhere higher than Captain in the Marines without a Devil Fruit. There are exceptions, though, like Kinan here!” He patted his assistant on the head.

“Hello?!” the old man gushed, drool beginning to drip out of his mouth, “what did you say this goddess’s name was?” He rushed towards Kinan, only to be stopped by Gerard’s outstretched arm.

“Disgusting old man,” Gerard muttered, pushing him back. The old man wasted no time and immediately hugged Sieghart again.

“I’m so proud of you, my boy,” he sobbed, “you got the pretty one, didn’t you-”

The old man lay on the ground, a lump forming on the side of his head as Sieghart let the emerald glove dissolve. “W-we should have some tea,” he muttered, crawling back through the door, “p-please follow me.”

“Ah.....” the old man breathed, setting his teacup down, “tea bags imported straight from Sabaody Archipelago. My favorite.”

“Errr, sir?” Gerard asked, having taken a few respectful sips despite his distaste for any drink besides black coffee, “you haven’t introduced yourself yet.”

The old man fixed Gerard with a penetrating stare. “Apologize for your rude conduct,” he said, “and then I’ll answer you.”

“Oh, I see,” Gerard said, “well, I apolo-”

“My name is Murtaugh,” the old man said, taking another sip.

“THAT’S A REUSED JOKE, DAMN YOU!” Gerard cried, scowling at the old man.

The four of them were seated in a small parlor located to the right of the door. Its floor was heavily cloaked with thick wool rugs, and the table they sat on was of the finest oak wood one could find. A large cabinet of the same oak sat on one side of the room, and a large, wine-colored couch on the other. A small, elegant Den Den Mushi sat on top of the cabinet.

“Yes,” the old man continued, ignoring Gerard, “my name is Murtaugh. I was also once known as Admiral Shiroshuji (White Lamb).”

“Shiroshuji?” Kinan asked, “you were in your prime during the day of the Pirate King, were you not?”

“Indeed I was,” the former Admiral replied, “but I got tired of the job, of being an Admiral, and around the time of Roger’s death, I willingly stepped down to Vice Admiral status. It was a good run, but I was done.”

“And you’ve lived here ever since?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not really. I only stepped down to Vice Admiral status, and besides, I stopped to train Sieg-kun when he was a rookie.”

“You were trained by a former Admiral?” Kinan asked, glancing at the Vice Admiral.

“Yep!” Sieghart said cheerily, slurping up his tea, “Shiroshuji-sensei sure scared the crap out of me!”

“Good,” Murtaugh replied, “and I hear you go by a different name, eh, Sieg-kun? The Green Knight?”

“It’s just an epithet,” Sieghart yawned, “and I only got it because of the Devil Fruit I ate.”

“He just enjoys the armor he can make with it,” Kinan said simply, “he tries to make himself look like a mecha a lot.”

“Awww, Kinan!” Sieg groaned, weeping visibly, “why’d you have to tell him?”

“Shnahahahahahahahahah!” Murtaugh guffawed, leaning back, “oh, that’s rich! You haven’t changed at all! Shnahahahahahahahah!”

“Shut up, old man!” Sieg yelled, flailing his arms in anger, “it’s none of your business!”

“Then what is?” the Vice Admiral asked, returning to his usual calm position with such speed that it caused the three Marines in front of him to start, “I assume you came for a reason, not for some idle chitchat.”

“Well, yeah,” Sieghart said, recovering, “we just got a mission from the higher ups... and we’re a bit stuck.”

“What’s the mission?”

“We need to hunt this pirate,” Sieghart said, tossing the pic of Knave across the table. Murtaugh picked it up, narrowing his eyes as he gazed at the person in the photo.

“Hmm....” he muttered, eyes narrowing even more, “...Yama.”

“Yama?” Gerard asked.

“A odd island in the South Blue,” Kinan said, quickly flipping through several papers on her clipboard, “the peak of a mountain that has been covered by the rising tide. It’s most famous among Marines for rumors of several black ops operations taking place there in the past.”

“The delectable young lady is correct,” Murtaugh said, sipping his tea again, “I got assigned to a certain cleanup mission years back, involving a certain upstart pirate and his baby son.”

“Who was the pirate?” Gerard inquired.

Murtaugh grinned. “Dhahaka D. Spade.”

“Guys! I see it!” came Knave’s voice from the mast at the front of the Shooting Star. D’Artagnan and Sid quickly burst out of the common room and rushed over to their captain’s side, gazing at the island before them.

Sensui Island wasn’t technically an island. It was much more like a gigantic, ornate fountain, floating in the middle of the sea, only anchored in place by a large, beanstalk like plant. The base of it was a large stone circle, where most of the houses and other living spaces existed. In the center was a large hole, with a pole rising up from it, various arches emerging from near its top. These arches were spread all over the island, coming down in seemingly random places. From the pole’s apex came a massive gush of water, showering most of the city in a very faint mist whilst small aqueducts and canals lead to various areas, distributing the remaining water around the city. The constant spray even created a constant rainbow effect whenever the sun shone.

“Woah,” Art gasped, looking at it, “they weren’t kidding. It’s just like a gigantic fountain.”

“So this is where we’ll find our female doctor, eh?” Sid asked, grinning cockily as he stared at the ‘island’ as well. Art was too impressed to even continue their argument.

“Allright!” Knave said, throwing his hands up into the air, “let’s get ready to dock!”

“Err,” Sid asked, focusing his gaze on the lower part of the island, “how and where are we supposed to dock?”

“Yoyoyoyoyoyo!” came a happy cry, as a large bird swooped down from the sky, landing on the center of the Star’s main deck. A man wearing a cardigan several sizes too big was now visible, riding it.

“Who the hell are you?” Art asked, quickly unsheathing his knives.

“Yeah!” Sid contributed, lifting his leg up. Knave just stared at the man, curious.

“Yoyoyoyoyoyo!” the man went, sliding off the bird’s back and landing smoothly on the deck, “my name is Cardigansempaisama-!”

He even has cardigan in his name, Art and Sid mentally observed, exasperation evident on their faces.

“-and I’m the leader of the Sensui Island Docking Co, also known as SIDC! I’m here to guide you to your docking spot, Dock #14!”

“T-thanks, I guess,” Art commented.

“It’s noyoyoyoyoyoyo problem!” Cardigansempaisama said, saluting happily, “just follow the bird to wear I lead you!” He leaped back onto his mount’s back. “Let’s go, Flappy!”

“Woof!” went the bird, as it spread its wings and began flapping, lifting it up into the sky. The man and bird quickly took off, flying towards what appeared to be a small cutaway on the lower circle. Sid quickly ran to the wheel, trying to steer it after him.

“Ciaosususususu!” Knave said, laughing heavily, “this island’s gonna be loads of fun, I can tell already!”

“W-what the?” an old man gasped, staring as the Shooting Star made its way to port from his vantage point on one of the arches, “M-marimo? Pirates? Pirates?!”

With that, he took off, running with surprising speed, heading as fast as he could towards the town. “PIRATES!” he cried, “MARIMO! PIRATES! MARIMO! PIRATES!”

“Achoo!” Art sneezed, quickly rubbing his nose, an ill expression quickly crossing his face as the pirates made their way to port.

“What’s up?” Sid asked, glancing at him.

“I dunno,” Art said, “I just got the feeling that we’ve just been given a stupid nickname.”

“Oh, come on,” Knave said haughtily, “that would NEVER happen!”

~End of Log~

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